#feelings n having to navigate when things improve n the person gets better n what ur supposed to do when yr basically

[ev1lmorty]

feel v mean calling out soecific meta but im still kindve fuming over a post i saw w a bit too much engagement a few months ago implying erick couldve never gotten physical w emorty bc if he had emorty wouldve not put up w him as long or wouldve easily been able to defend themself actually it was a poll like. rallying abt what kind of abuse everyone thought emorty had endured like placing bets on how badly rick brutalized him. have we lost the fucking plot lol

[wandaromanova]

Lost

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of cancer, death, cussing

A/N: hello! i’d like to put a disclaimer that i am not in any way knowledgeable of the medical field and all of the terminology and information used in this fic was found through research! happy reading <3

anon requested: hiiiii !! can i request like an angst into fluff natxfem!reader one shot where the reader has a really bad day and takes it out on nat and hurts her feelings and so they go to bed angry. but the reader realizes their mistake and the next morning just wakes her up by showering her with love and then takes the whole day to do cute little date things with her? like making her favorite meal or like dancing in the kitchen to their favorite song late at night or just super fluffy things? if not, that’s okay!! have a good day <3

Summary: The heavy weight of her profession gets to Y/N and she takes her anger out on her loving girlfriend; Natasha Romanoff.

Word Count: 3K | navigation

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

Becoming a doctor was no easy feat.

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Once high school is completed, one must receive your bachelor’s degree before taking the MCAT exam and applying to medical school. After four years of medical school, you must endure a year as an intern before being promoted to a resident. 

Depending on what specialty one has selected, residency can span from three to seven years. Fellowships follow after but are typically an optional course that provides extra training. 

Yes, there are a lot of necessary steps to take in order to set foot into the medical world, but somehow, the years of foreplay could never compare to being a full-fledged physician; and you knew this all too well.

You are a pediatric oncologist and your job was to diagnose and provide treatment to children and teenagers who had cancer. You specialized in hematology; the treatment of blood disorders.

You were the head of pediatric oncology in a Manhattan hospital. You dealt with a lot of patients, but a two-year-old little girl named Sarah was secretly your favorite. 

Despite being diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, Sarah’s positivity and playful personality never faltered.

Even if she didn’t understand the circumstances because of her young age, you knew she was suffering. Regardless of it all, every session you had with her was endearing.

You met with the child once a week to administer chemotherapy. Her enthusiasm never failed to have you awestruck. Most of your patients were exhausted from the treatments, but not Sarah. 

She was a hyper child who would attempt to sing Frozen songs, performing as you tried to fight a smile from taking over your features. She had a stuffed Olaf doll that she brought with her to every visit and it was heartwarming to see her hug the doll close to her chest. 

Sarah would even bring you drawings every week that you would keep in your locker. You’d admire each and every one of the drawings, even if you couldn’t really tell what they were.

You’d grown fond of the little girl in the past two months you had been treating her. You were also relatively close to her parents, who were probably the kindest people you’ve ever encountered. It made sense that Sarah was the ball of sunshine she was, she obviously got it from her parents.

Most times, parents were on edge and extremely short-tempered. If parents saw you often, that meant that their child was diagnosed with some form of cancer. Understandably, they would be rather hostile whilst interacting with you, but you never took their behavior personally. 

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If you were in their shoes, you were positive that you wouldn’t be very friendly either. 

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You had grown fond of the beaming child. You were aware that growing emotionally attached to patients was unprofessional, but how could you not? 

You adored children and for that very reason, you had chosen a specialty that allowed you to help kids as much as medicine would allow. You always had a soft spot for kids and you found joy in helping them as best as you possibly could.

Sarah had a very good chance at pulling through. With consistent treatment and her young age, her survival rate was around 68%. Those were considerably good odds in these circumstances. Not to mention, the chemotherapy seemed to be paying off. At the rate she was improving, she was predicted to be out of the woods soon enough.

However, the child had developed a bacterial infection. Since she had been receiving chemotherapy, the treatment had damaged her white blood cells which are responsible for fighting off infections. 

All you could do was provide antibiotics to try and fight off the infection. You had monitored her for some time in hopes of seeing any sign of improvement, but unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. Her immune system was extremely vulnerable and there wasn’t any way to reverse the damage. 

Your heart was torn to pieces when you delivered the news to her parents. They broke down in the hallway outside of Sarah’s room as you informed them of Sarah’s rapidly shortened life expectancy. It was only a matter of time before the young child would pass and honestly, this was what you hated most about your job.

You hated that you couldn’t help every single patient. You hated how cruel the world could be to take away an innocent child from their loving parents. 

You allowed her parents to spend time by her bedside. They laid on either side of her bed, clinging onto her for dear life. What broke you the most was the paleness of Sarah’s once glowing skin. Her smile was still present but didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to. 

Her parents quietly sang ‘Love Is An Open Door’ to Sarah. You felt your heart clench in a bittersweet way as you silently watched. Normally, Sarah wouldn’t hesitate to join in, but her lack of breath prevented her from doing so. All she could do was close her eyes and lightly nod her head along to their voices. 

Sarah passed hours later and it was an extremely somber experience. Hearing the cries of parents who lost their children wasn’t easy and it never would be. Your job had its pros and cons, and this was the biggest negative.

You fought back your own tears as you exited the room, giving the two mourning parents some privacy after you recorded Sarah’s time of death. You found the nearest restroom and allowed the tears to fall down your face. 

A pure soul had been ripped away from the world, never having the chance to experience the great things life had to offer.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

4 Hours Later

You trudged into your loft, immediately taking off your coat and hanging it up before tossing your keys on the small table by the front door. 

Your girlfriend, Natasha, had heard your arrival and quickly exited the bedroom to greet you, a wide smile on her face. However, her smile fell when she noticed your defeated state. 

Your shoulders were slumped as you slouched slightly and your eyes were dripping with sadness. 

“Honey? What’s wrong?” Natasha approached you while you stood frozen in front of the door. Her hands came up to cup your cheeks as she stared at you in concern, her eyes scanning over your features. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I lost Sarah.” 

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Natasha’s eyes widened and her heart sunk at your words. She was aware of how much you adored the two-year-old. Once a week, you would rave about the child and how adorable she was at the dinner table. You would go on and on about how Sarah would sing to you, draw pictures for you, and bring along stickers to place onto your coat.

The redhead loved how happy you looked whenever you spoke about any of your patients, but most especially Sarah. It brought Natasha some joy of her own to see you speak animatedly about Sarah; your happiness was her happiness. 

So, the news hurt her almost as much as it hurt her. She knew how much you loved Sarah, despite never saying it straight out.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I know how much you cared about her. Are you okay?” Natasha’s voice was oozing with sympathy. You couldn’t help but feel irritated by her question. 

You tore her hands off of your cheeks and walked past her and into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water as the redhead watched you intently. 

“Am I okay? I’m fine! It’s not like I lost an extremely young patient today or anything. What kind of stupid fucking question is that, Natasha?” You took a sip of cold water to try and calm yourself damn, but your attempt was futile. 

The redhead made her way into the kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the island as you took another sip of water, eyes burning a hole into her head over the rim of the glass. 

“I know, that was a dumb question. I just want to help you, Y/N/N.” Natasha remained calm and patient as she spoke to you. She was no stranger to the loss of a person she desperately tried to save and knew all too well the sadness and anger that accompanied the tragedy. She was an Avenger, after all. 

“I don’t want your help and I don’t need you!” You slammed your cup onto the counter as you raised your voice. Honestly, it was surprising that you hadn’t shattered the glass with the amount of force you exerted. 

Natasha felt an ache in her chest as you yelled at her. She knew that you weren’t in the right state of mind and didn’t take it personally, but that didn’t make your words hurt any less. 

“You save entire cities and I can’t even save a single fucking person!” You were turning red at this point, tears of frustration streaming down your face. The redhead hated seeing you cry, but she knew better than to approach you at this moment. 

“Babe, you save so many pe-” Natasha’s tried to speak, but you quickly interjected. 

“If you’re going to try and spew some philosophical bullshit to me right now, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear another god damn word from your mouth.”

The redhead looked down defeatedly. She had never seen you so upset, let alone direct your frustrations towards her. Her eyes fell down to the marble counter between you both before looking up at you. You were breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. 

Without another word, Natasha retreated back to the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind her. You watched her until she was out of your view and let out a sigh. Your hands gripped the edges of the kitchen island, supporting your weight as you shut your eyes. 

You brought a hand up to your face and pinched the bridge of your nose. After a few minutes, you made your way into the living room, chucking off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch. You didn’t feel like interacting with Natasha anymore tonight, knowing that you most likely wouldn’t be able to control your temper. 

You were just so fed up with the painful losses you had to endure from your profession. 

You knew that being a doctor was more dark clouds and thunder, than sunshine and rainbows, but you just wished that for once, the weather forecast would work in your favor. 

The emotional day had finally caught up to you. Your body relaxed as you sunk further into the couch, eyes fluttering shut as you succumbed to a much-needed slumber. 

Unbeknownst to you, Natasha was still awake. She laid flat on her back and stared up at the ceiling in thought. She was mad at you, as much as she didn’t want to be. Natasha had gone through the same thing and never lost her cool with you as you had with her. 

The redhead calmed down slowly, turning on her side and facing the empty space beside her which you normally occupied. She reached one arm out, her skin colliding with cool sheets, already missing the warmth of your body. 

Natasha hated sleeping without you by her side, She didn’t feel complete when you weren’t steadily sleeping next to her, your arms wrapped around her body. However, she hoped that things would improve in the morning.

And with that thought in mind, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, clutching the sheets firmly in her hand. 

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

 The Next Morning

You awoke to a blinding light, the morning sun shining through the windows and landing directly onto your face. You let out a groan and slowly sat up, stretching out your limbs with a groan. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, you were aching everywhere. 

You sat there for a moment as the events of the day before caught up to you. Not only had you lost Sarah, but you upset Natasha. You immediately felt guilty as you recalled the harsh words you spat at her in a fit of rage. You felt like a complete asshole, and rightfully so. 

You quickly stood up and entered the kitchen, retrieving some bacon from the freezer and eggs from the refrigerator. You grabbed two separate pans and washed your hands, making sure to get the coffee pot running before you began cooking.

Your girlfriend absolutely loved bacon, eggs, and coffee. She described the combinations as a ‘party in her mouth.’ So, this was going to be an ‘i’m sorry for being a bitch last night’ apology breakfast. 

You got started on the meal and by the time you finished up and had the stove off, Natasha stalked out of the bedroom slowly. She eyed you carefully as she approached, you sent a soft smile her way.

“You made breakfast,” Natasha spoke and you shyly nodded your head. You moved away from the stove and rounded the counter. The redhead stood in her spot as you wrapped your arms around her waist, her arms reflexively going around your neck.

“I was an asshole last night.” You stated and your girlfriend nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, you were a total pain in the ass, the absolute worst.” You rolled your eyes at Natasha’s teasing tone.

“I’m sorry for how I behaved. I was just so upset about… Sarah. I didn’t mean to take it out on you and I can’t even begin to tell you how bad I feel for yelling at you when all you wanted to do was help me.”

Your voice was full of emotion, your eyes boring into her emerald irises as you poured your heart into every syllable you uttered. Natasha smile gently at you, her fingers lightly tugging on the baby hairs on the nape of your neck. 

“It’s okay. I know you weren’t mad at me.” You let out a sigh of relief as the redhead stared at you softly. She let out a small chuckle at your dramatics before continuing.

‘I understand how you feel. The team and I, we try our very best to save as many civilians as we can, but sometimes it’s completely out of our control. It’s the exact same situation.” 

One of Natasha’s hands found its way to your cheek, gently cupping the skin as you leaned into her touch. You were listening intently to her every word, mesmerized by the calming rasp of her voice.

“Don’t dwell on what you couldn’t do, but give yourself some credit for everything you did do. I may not know what happened, but what I do know is that you tried everything you could, no?”

Natasha questioned you and you nodded your head. “I gave her antibiotics to fight the infection, but it was too severe.” The redhead rubbed her thumb against your cheek. 

“All that matters is that you did your best and that’s all anyone could ever ask for.” Natasha ended her little speech as she placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. You couldn’t help but smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness taking over. 

“Thank you. I love you and your… what was it?” You furrowed your eyebrows in concentration before your face lit up. Natasha raised an eyebrow at you. “Philosophical bullshit. That was the words.” The Russian let out a laugh, shaking her head from side to side at your antics. 

“Seriously though, I’m so grateful for you. You’re so amazing to me even when I don’t deserve it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Natasha’s laughter died down as your tone turned serious. Your eyes were so full of love and adoration as you stared into her eyes deeply. 

“Well, let’s hope you never have to find out.” Natasha smiled once more and you couldn’t resist pressing your lips against her plump ones. Your mouths moved in tandem at a slow pace, enjoying the rawness and love that accompanied each movement. 

You broke the kiss when air became an issue. Nat’s eyes fluttered open as you wiggled your eyebrows at her playfully. 

“So, are you ready for some breakfast? Maybe after we eat, we can go on top of a rooftop and I’ll serenade you with a rendition of ‘Sorry’ by Justin Bieber.”

Natasha’s head flew back as she laughed uncontrollably at your words. “What? Do you not like the Biebs? If you want, I could play ‘Baby Come Back’ by Player from a boombox and hold it over my head, instead.” The redhead continued to laugh profusely and you soon joined in. Your arms tightened around her waist as your giggles subsided. 

“I think cuddling on the couch and watching the Kardashians eating ridiculously large bowls of salad will do.” You nodded your head in agreement but didn’t make a move to release Natasha from your grip. She didn’t let go either. 

The two of you just stood there, basking in each other’s embrace, a comfortable silence falling over you both. 

Natasha never failed to say the right things to pull you out of the dark abyss that was your mind. She was completely right, as always. There would always be bad days, patients who were progressing one day and deteriorating the next. 

However, there were also good days, and you shouldn’t allow the bad to overshadow all the good you’ve done. Like with Natasha, she wasn’t always the superhero she is today. She took her dark past and turned it into a bright future. 

Nat didn’t let her bad days define her and neither should you.

Of course, you would always remember every single patient you had lost, but now, you would take the pain and turn it into motivation; motivation to improve yourself, not only in your professional life but in your personal life as well. 

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You would do right by the ones you’ve lost and the one who stuck by your side; Natasha Romanoff. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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[watchyourbluesturngolden]

howard stern

I'M BACK BESTIES!!!!! i'm not totally back to my normal writing, but I finally got through a whole piece! anyways I really liked this and i hope you do too :)

warnings: howard stern being a bitch, talk of weight & body image

word count: 2.1k

"Hello Harry, how are you doing today?"

"I'm well, thank you," Harry answered with a smile. He was on the Howard Stern Show, his first interview since Stevie had been born. He hadn't really wanted to; Howard was kind of a prick. Everyone knew this, but Jeff was convinced this was the right move. He said it would be good for Harry to get back into the swing of things, and no one else was available on short notice. In the end, Harry only agreed because you had pushed him to, reminding him it wouldn't be a very long interview and then he wouldn't have to interact with the abrasive man again for a long time.

"That's good to hear," Howard said. "How have you been these past couple months? Have you been getting anything done?"

"Not much that's music related, honestly," Harry laughed. "I've been busy with family things."

"Yeah, you've kind of been hiding away from the world for a while here, what's that about?"

"Well, as I'm sure you already know, my wonderful wife had a baby recently, so I've been pretty busy... just navigating the world of fatherhood." A smile crept onto his face at the mention of Stevie.

"That's a lot, isn't it? Babies are awful at that age," Howard chuckled.

"Uh- I wouldn't say awful," Harry's smile dropped a little and he sighed internally. He already knew how the rest of this interview would go: thinly veiled insults, questions that were way too personal, and having to pretend he didn't want to get up and walk out of the room. But he knew that wouldn't be a very good look for him, so he gritted his teeth and tried to think of happy things. Specifically, the fact that he would get to go home to his wife and baby in less than two hours. "She's a very sweet baby, we're completely in love with her."

"Yeah, sometimes they're cute, but mostly they just cry and wake you up in the night, don't they?" Howard asked smugly, as if he knew Harry's baby better than Harry did.

"Well, of course she wakes up in the night sometimes. She's hungry, can't blame her for wanting food, can I?" Harry asked, trying to speak lightly and with a smile, but he could feel his patience slipping. He was ready to go home and he was not in the mood to pretend to be happy when this man was clearly insulting his child.

"Sure, I just wish babies could be a bit less annoying when they want something."

Harry nodded, plastering a smile that hopefully looked real on his face.

"So, besides the annoying baby, how's the family? Everybody healthy over there?"

Harry nodded. "Everybody's happy and healthy. A little sleep deprived, of course, but we're managing well, i think. And by we, I mean Y/N. She's truly... just amazing. I have no idea how she does it- she's the one keeping everything together. There's no way I could do any of this without her."

"Yeah, she seems pretty great! I remember though, at first we were all a little uncertain about her. She's not exactly like the other women you have a history with, is she?"

"She's-" Harry started talking, but Howard cut him off.

"I just mean, we were used to seeing you with models and actresses and the like, so it was a bit of a shock to see you with one of us commoners, you know?"

Harry huffed a small laugh, still trying to sound polite. "When you love someone, that's all that matters."

"Right, of course, but don't you get bored sometimes? You stopped going out so much when you got with her, almost like she was keeping you captive or something," He laughed.

"Are you asking me if my wife forced me to stop hanging out with my friends?" Harry squinted at the man.

"No, of course not, but..." He leaned closer with a malicious gleam in his eye, like he was about to hear some big secret. "Did she?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "She did not."

"Okay, okay, if you say so," Howard put his hands up, but then he leaned in again and spoke in an exaggerated whisper. "Blink twice if you need help."

Harry played it off with a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He's good," Howard laughed loudly. "Anyways, let's move on. Since you two are supposedly so happy-" He paused again, as if he expected Harry to cut it and give some dramatic confession about how terrible his relationship was behind closed doors. Harry only raised his eyebrows, signaling him to continue talking. "Tell us about that. When did you two get married again?"

"Almost 2 years ago," Harry said with a smile. "Our anniversary is coming up, actually, it's in 3 weeks."

"Oh wow, you guys moved fast with the whole kid thing, huh?"

Harry nodded. "We both knew we wanted kids and were ready to have them, so... yeah."

"Yeah, no point wasting time, right? How was Y/N after having the baby- Stevie, right?"

"Yeah, her name is Stevie," Harry smiled. "She was good. Again, she's amazing for going through that. She's- i'm just so lucky to have her."

"Did she bounce back right away?"

"I'm sorry?" Harry's brow furrowed.

"You know, did she get her figure back fast? I know that's a big issue for some women," He laughed again.

"Are you-" All traces of Harry's smile were gone now.

"I just mean, I hope she's working to get rid of the baby weight," Howard said casually, as if his words weren't extremely rude. "Just to make sure she can fit into her old clothes!"

Harry cleared his throat. He knew he had to speak very carefully, since this was something you had been very self conscious about. "Well, the two of us are concerned with the new life she brought into the world, not some old clothes, but she looks as beautiful as ever. The amount of pressure women face to live up to certain standards is disgusting to me, and it's especially bad for new mothers. My wife just went through an incredible process, she grew an entire human being in 9 months, then went through labor and the delivery, and she's being told to worry about her figure? That's wrong."

"Right, right, of course," Howard smiled, but Harry could tell he was annoyed at how he couldn't be tricked into speaking badly about his wife.

"I'm really over the whole thing, honestly," Harry said. "And I'm not even the one going through it."

Howard laughed nervously, seeming to finally take the hint that Harry was uncomfortable and annoyed with the topic. "Let's talk about your latest movie, why don't we?"

Harry was closed off through the rest of the interview; anyone could see that. He laughed less, his arms stayed crossed, and his answers were short. He was professional, but it went no farther than that. There was no more playful joking or easy conversation, just Harry trying to get through the interview as fast as he could. When it finally came to a close after his final song, Harry couldn't pack up fast enough. He made sure to say a polite thanks and goodbye before he hurried out to his car.

He sighed deeply before picking up his phone to call you.

"Hi baby!" your happy voice came from the other end. That was good, he assumed that meant you hadn't listened to the interview yet.

"Hi love," he smiled, his mood already improving just from hearing your voice. "Did you listen to the interview?"

"I have been- I couldn't right at the beginning, Stevie was crying, but I caught the end. Why?"

"Why was she crying?" Harry ignored your question, instantly worrying about his baby.

"Sometimes babies cry for no reason, Harry. She's okay, I promise. Anyways, what's up with the interview?"

Harry sighed. "Just the normal for a Howard Stern interview- he asked some very personal and rude questions. Just prepare for that."

"What else is new?" You laughed. "Are you coming right home?"

"Yeah, unless you need anything?"

"Nope, I think I'm good. See you soon!"

"Love you, bye," Harry said, ending the call and starting the car to begin the drive home.

-----

"I'm home," Harry called, removing his coat as he walked in the door.

"We're in here," you responded, not moving from your spot on the couch where you were nursing Stevie.

Harry walked in, a small smile on his face as he looked at the two of you.

"Hi," He sighed, plopping down on the couch next to you.

"That bad, huh?" You asked, taking in his dejected tone.

He hummed in response, leaning his head on your shoulder. "Those interviews are... always something."

"Yeah, I only caught the end, but you sounded pretty upset. What did he say?"

"He just..." Harry shook his head. "I don't think you should listen to it."

You turned your head to look at him. "Why not?"

"He's just very rude and pushy, as always."

"Yeah, i figured, but I wanted to hear your songs," you argued with a small frown. "Did he say something really bad, or...?"

"He just makes some very impolite comments about you and our family."

"Oh," You nodded lightly. "I think I'll be okay, baby. I appreciate you trying to protect my feelings, but I'm used to it at this point, and I really couldn't care less about his opinion of me."

"Alright," he sighed. "If you're sure." He pulled out his phone, checking his email and going through some messages while you started the interview from the beginning. You could hear him grumbling under his breath and huffing every time Howard said something rude, but you ignored it, just laying a hand on his leg to calm him down.

By the time it was over, Harry was clearly not too happy. "I can't believe I went back on that show," he shook his head. "I'm never doing that again. I'm so sorry about what he said about you, I honestly should have just left-"

"It's okay," you cut him off with a smile. "Also, it was kind of hot to hear you get mad at him."

"Yeah?" He smiled back. "I thought I was very tame, actually. I wanted to say some other things, but I figured that wouldn't be a very good look for me."

"Right, but the way you attacked him but stayed professional... very hot," you laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," He smiled, turning his head to kiss your cheek in return. "Is she done? I really need to hold her after the day I've had," He sighed dramatically, throwing his head back.

"I'm sure," you laughed, handing Stevie over to him and pulling your shirt back into place. "She's all yours."

"Hi baby," he cooed, holding her close to his chest. "I missed you so much."

Stevie yawned in response, cuddling into him.

"Oh, you missed me too?" He grinned. "See that? She missed me."

"She did," You agreed. "She was looking around when she heard your voice on the interview, she wanted to know where you were."

"I'm sorry," he pouted down at her. "I'll never go away again, and I'll never let the bad man be mean to you again."

"I don't think she's too upset about it, Harry," you laughed. "She is only 3 months old. She didn't exactly understand anything that went on."

"Excuse me," he said, looking very offended. "She may only be 3 months old, but she's very smart."

"Right, she's a genius baby, how could I forget?"

"I don't know," Harry shook his head at Stevie. "How could she forget how smart you are, hmm?"

Stevie yawned again, stretching her arms above her head.

"She's ready to take a nap," you said.

"Can I just hold her? I know it's not a good habit, to let her be held to sleep, but I don't want to put her down yet," Harry said, looking up with such pleading eyes, you couldn't possibly say no. Not like you would have said no anyways, but he didn't need to know that.

"Of course you can," you stood up, kissing his forehead before you turned away. "I'm gonna do the dishes, then we can watch something if you want."

"No, let me do those," he immediately protested.

"Harry, it's okay, I haven't done anything around the house since she was born-"

"And I'm not about to let you start now," he cut you off. "Come back here, please? Let's start that new show we were looking at the other night."

"Fine, but later I'm going to help you with the dishes."

"Fine," he smiled, agreeing with your compromise, even though you both knew he would argue later. "Now come back here."

[maximotts]

♡ 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘵. 𝘪𝘪 ♡ {𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘵}

pt. i || pt. iii

a/n: ahaha remember when I said all would be fixed in this part? Turns out I lied. Part 2 was getting way too long and I didn't want this to feel rushed so part 3 will be the final part, but fret not, I'm finalizing part 3 as we speak because I didn't want to leave y'all at another painful cliffhanger. That'll be up right after this one before I go to bed tonight

warnings: angst, another semi-argument, Wanda reading Natasha's thoughts, a gallon of hurt feelings, panic attacks (Wanda)

summary: Natasha can't give Wanda space anymore after an Incident. aka the Secret Softy finally realizes she misses the Small Sunshine

words: 3.1k

masterlist. || navi. || request info/rules. :open

𝘮𝘰𝘺𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘬𝘢𝘺𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘬𝘢 = 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭

𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘬𝘢 = 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺

𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘰𝘺 = 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵

✣ ✣ ✣

It’d been three weeks. Three weeks since she’d seen Wanda, eaten any meals with her, watched her dark hair fall gently over her shoulders as she laughed, or felt her soft hands brush against her fingers for reassurance or in a silent request to be held. Safe to say, Natasha missed Wanda terribly. Even more so, the guilt from how deeply she’d hurt the person she cared about was eating her alive. She saw Wanda’s wounded face almost as frequently as she blinked and she longed to reach out and hug her until it was all better.

She had made attempts. The night of her blow up, Natasha knocked on Wanda’s door for a good five minutes. It was obvious she was in there, sitcom laughter emanating from her television. After a while it was clear she wasn’t ready to talk and Natasha understood; she wouldn’t want to talk to her either. She resigned herself to seeing Wanda at breakfast the next morning, hoping maybe a friendly smile from across the room would let the girl know she wasn’t mad at her. But Wanda was nowhere to be found. Two days of missed meals later and having tripped over a dirty sandwich plate in front of Wanda’s room and Natasha realized she was purposely avoiding even the possibility of having to sit next to the redhead when she ate. Again, Natasha couldn’t blame her.

Now three weeks in, Natasha settled on just walking in. Wanda rarely kept her door locked when she was inside, she and Natasha were the only ones with permanent rooms on the female residence side and there was never an issue with Nat coming in unannounced- until now of course. An hour’s worth of hyping herself up behind her, she took the ten steps next door to where she’d hopefully be able to fix her awful mess. Still she hovered outside, hand outstretched, hovering as she took one last deep breath.

Her hand never reached the doorknob.

Before Natasha could make contact with the metal, a hot spark of red zapped her hand and she jumped back to avoid further attack. “Wa-”

“Don’t even think about it, Natasha Romanoff.” The first time she heard that voice again, she didn’t expect it to sound so dangerous. Natasha expected anger, but she didn’t know Wanda could sound so threatening.

She’d be a fool to try the knob again, it’d only upset her further. Nevertheless, it was important she at least got part of her message out. “I know you’re upset, Wanda. I’m upset with myself too. I was wrong, so wrong. I never should have hurt you like I did, I should have just talked to you. That’s on me. I want to prove to you I’m sorry, maybe even earn your trust back eventually? Whenever you’re ready.” Natasha sighed, twisting her still tingling hand in the other. “I miss you, but I ruined us. Not you. I’m sorry, Wanda.”

Unbeknownst to Natasha, Wanda had wandered closer to the door as soon as she noticed the other pacing outside of her doorway. She wasn’t ready to talk to her; she couldn’t find a way to face her yet without fear of looking like she was coming crawling back without having heard an apology, but before she could think too hard on it, Natasha was speaking. Her heart grew heavy with the weight of Natasha’s words. She wasn’t one for feelings or true emotions and although fairly clumsily uttered, Wanda knew sincerity when she heard it. Swayed as her heart was to run into the arms of the woman she missed for the past week, her brain instantly reminded her of other words.

You still want her after she told you how clingy you are? She’s right. You are pathetic.

The ache was back, stinging just as sharp as the day she’d first heard. She couldn’t yet.

Wanda’s back hit the wall, sinking to the floor with her knees huddled close to her chest. She knew Natasha had just been angry when she lashed out, that she wouldn’t typically be so public with her outbursts, much less direct them towards her, but there were some true feelings within those poison laced words and Wanda didn’t want to have that conversation yet.

“Well.. you know where to find me.” Wanda hated how sad Natasha sounded; she must’ve been tearing herself apart. She despised not being able to fix things. Soft footsteps told Wanda she was fully alone again and although that should have let her relax, she groaned with how empty she felt once more.

✣ ✣ ✣

Another week went by with no exchanged words and Natasha was beginning to give up hope. She’d ruined everything between them seemingly irreparably; asking any of her teammates yielded a non-committal response, none of them were spending tons of time with her either. She’d given up on knocking, having only met silence or words of warning. All she could do was wait.

For Wanda’s part, she felt like she was going to burst. Her skin felt like it was on fire, nervous energy sparking right under the surface. She’d closed herself off to everyone, opening herself up to Natasha was a mistake, it must have been. Her last words to her had been apologetic and kind, but the hurtful ones still lingered and she felt stuck. It was tearing her apart. Even more so, today’s training left her disoriented- earthquake simulation. As the fake ground shook under her and buildings fell, Wanda was spiraled back to childhood and more recently, Sokovia, and although she played it off as nothing with others, as soon as she was back in the safety of her room she fell apart.

Before she would seek out Natasha, whisper her worries against her skin from under the safety of a warm blanket. She couldn’t do that now, couldn’t ask such a thing from Natasha after what she said and after near radio silence for a month. Wanda huddled in her own bed, tired eyes staring longingly at the wall separating her and Natasha’s room. The person she wanted -needed- was so close, but so far. “You’re fine. You’ve dealt with this alone before.”

✣ ✣ ✣

Natasha couldn’t sleep. Not for lack of exhaustion; she’d been training longer these days in hopes of catching more glimpses of Wanda, just to make sure she looked okay. It was working and thankfully from what she could see, Wanda was alright. The past few days were different though; she looked more tired, dragging along more and more, and now today she’d survived the earthquake simulator. To anyone else, Wanda looked like her normal self, quiet and to herself, but Natasha saw the girl’s hands shake, watched her stance go slack in a way she’d warned Wanda against many times. Afterwards, Wanda was off to her usual seclusion before Natasha could reach her from across the room so she settled for giving Bruce a stern talking to instead. He should’ve known better than to shove Wanda in that simulation, especially by herself.

She left a properly admonished Bruce, heading in the direction of Wanda’s room. Arguments be damned, she wouldn’t let Wanda explode alone, even if she hated her for intruding after. If her repeated self-reassurance weren’t enough to convince her by the time she reached her destination, the moans and whines from within set her mind. Natasha hovered again, weighing the consequences, but Wanda let out such a sob that she couldn’t ignore. “Wanda? Can I come in please?” Her hand landed safely on the door, an improvement from last time.

“It’s just me, I wanted to check on you after training.” No response, but no rejection either. She turned the knob, grateful Wanda seemed to have forgotten to lock the door. Whether it was a mistake or a silent hope for Natasha’s intervention, she didn’t know, but she would use the opportunity. She could barely find Wanda in the dark room, but her eyes settled on the small form in the middle of her large bed and Natasha was by her side in an instant.

“Wanda? Sweetheart, hey, it’s me. What’s wrong?” Her eyes were unfocused, pupils blown wide with fear. Natasha longed to scoop her up, but she couldn’t startle her; she didn’t even know if she’d want her there once she realized who she was. Still, it hurt so deeply to have let her get this bad; she could’ve helped if Wanda trusted her enough to reach out. Natasha waited for what felt like hours until Wanda noticed her, crouching by a bed was rough on her tired knees, but she’d stay like that forever if need be. When Wanda finally made eye contact, she only stared at the redhead, as if figuring out whether the woman in front of her was real or not. She took a daring step, holding her hand out to Wanda, keeping it in her eyeline as long as she could until her palm reached her head. Her thumb moved, ever so softly, over her scalp as a test. Anything she could do to soothe her. “I’m here, Wands.”

If Natasha weren’t so strong, Wanda would’ve knocked her over. She’d thrown her full weight onto her in an instant, clinging to Natasha for dear life while her lower half still hung from the bed. There were so many things tearing at her, so much emotion she needed to unload, but she was too overwhelmed. Natasha had come to her. Had ignored their month of silence and hurt feelings to try to aid her and it left her stunned. “Tash- Natasha.. I-I’m so sorry..”

“Ah, no none of that,” Natasha stood with a grunt, taking Wanda with her to set them both on the bed. She navigated her way to the top of the bed in the dark, only stopping when her back hit the headboard, letting Wanda hold onto her, “This is my fault, I’m sorry. I should have been here for you.”

Wanda shook her head slowly, burying herself as far into the crook of her neck as deep as she could. “No. I should’ve been able to handle training today. You were right, I can’t do anything myself. I’m weak and pathetic and..” Sobs took over any chance of coherent words, shaking against the warm body she’d missed so much. Part of her screamed to move away, to suck up her tears and prove to Natasha she was just fine on her own. But she couldn’t pretend. She was fine on her own, she could handle it, but she needed the comfort of someone she trusted too. Someone she could relay her thoughts too instead of bottling them all inside until they got the best of her.

Before she knew it, Natasha felt tears rolling down her cheeks as well. She hated crying, couldn’t stand being so outwardly vulnerable with someone else, but if Wanda could be with her then she owed her the same trust. Toned arms pulled the small woman trembling against her closer, pressing frantic kisses to the crown of her head, anything to show her apologies. “You’re not weak for your emotions, detka. It’s one of the strongest things you could do to allow yourself to open yourself up and trust me.. I should have given you that same trust and been honest from the start.” Natasha cradled Wanda’s head to her chest, rocking her as sweetly as she could. She knew she was holding her a fraction too tight, but she couldn’t help it. Reassuring fingers brushed through long brunette hair, keeping her as close as possible.

“Can you forgive me?” The muffled voice from below temporarily shook Natasha from her waterfall of revelations and she remembered why they were in this situation.

“Moya sladkaya detka, you were forgiven weeks ago. You were trying to help me and yes, we need to talk about how I deal with the aftermath of long missions because I do sometimes need time to myself, but nothing, nothing you did warranted how I hurt you.” Wanda froze and for a moment Natasha was scared she would pull away, but she nodded slowly. “Can you forgive me?”

That was a loaded question. Wanda fought to clear her thoughts, organize them in any way that could possibly make sense. She wanted so badly to simply accept and stay in Natasha’s arms. It wasn’t that she thought Natasha was lying to her; she truly believed she was sorry for what she did, but that didn’t mean those words didn’t still swirl through her head everyday since she’d first uttered them. It was hard to think so close to her. Wanda pried herself away from Natasha, not missing the way Natasha kept hold on her hips as if letting go meant she’d lose her forever. “I want to forgive you, Natasha.”

It hurt, but it was fair. She didn’t expect an easy apology and didn't deserve one either. “There’s a but coming, right?” Wanda couldn’t meet her eyes; she only avoided eye contact when she had more to say and was biding her time. “You don’t have to forgive me, Wanda. I’m willing to do whatever you need to make you feel safe again, no matter how long it takes.” And she meant it. Natasha would put in the work for Wanda, she was more than worth it.

She knew what she needed. It was the only way she could think of easing her mind. Still, Wanda promised she wouldn’t do it again unless she had to, but… she had to. “I need to feel you.” A hesitant ring-clad hand reached out, tapping Natasha’s temple to finish the thought she couldn’t speak. “Nothing traumatic, nothing too deeply buried.. hopefully, at least.” Rarely was it hard for Wanda to search out thoughts in someone about a particular person who crossed their mind regularly. She hoped it was more than wishful thinking that Natasha had her in her thoughts with some frequency. “Please, Tash… I need to know you feel more for me than just ‘clingy, weak puppy.’”

Natasha opened her mouth to retort, to try to take her harsh words back, but she knew it wouldn’t help. The thought of Wanda searching through her mind again scared her still. Last time left her shaken for weeks, months, after what she’d dug up, but back then Wanda was looking to hurt her and damn, she was great at it. She had to trust she wouldn’t do that now. Trust was so hard. A promise was a promise, though. Natasha took Wanda’s free hand in both of hers, a lifeline to hold while she gave herself to the woman she cared so much for. “Okay.. be gentle?”

Wanda let out a chuckle; Natasha’s sensitive side was so very cute. “I would never be anything but, dorogoy.” Natasha nodded, swallowing her fears with reassurance. Wanda was only ever kind to her, too much at times; Steve and Sam never missed an opportunity to poke fun at Natasha when in the early days Wanda was practically exploding with nerves around the redhead. Eventually they figured out it was less that Wanda thought Natasha was going to beat the pulp out of her and more that she wished the older woman would crush her with her thighs- but the two men waited for Natasha to figure that one out on her own.

“Go ahead, Wands. Just be quick about it, alright? I don’t want to spill all my secrets right now.” Wanda agreed with a quiet hum, shaking her head and straightening her spine before moving her fingers alongside Natasha’s head. It reminded her of the first time they’d officially met; a bittersweet memory of how stunning she felt her then enemy was, but bringing her trauma to the surface before those steadfast blue eyes caught sight of her. Now though, Wanda was careful. Only going deep enough to look at Natasha’s memories and thoughts about her. How surprised she was that Wanda was as powerful as she was. Her instant and ongoing distrust of her when she and her brother came to aid the Avengers in Sokovia. Natasha’s annoyance at her stolen red jacket, with an added and apparently shocking sense of possessiveness brought on by seeing her in her clothing. Interesting. Wanda would note that little fact for the future.

Red ringed eyes shone in the darkness, both locked onto Natasha’s and staring far past her. She wanted to be open and honest, that was the whole point. Consequently Wanda let Natasha see what she was seeing and with every twinge of irritation her past self felt towards Wanda and her initial attempts to gain trust with her new team, specifically with herself, her current self cringed at her behavior. But slowly things shifted. Resentment shifted to reluctant endearment, then care and protection and finally into where she longed for Wanda’s calming presence when she was stressed or wanted a confidant. The weight of vulnerability felt like being flayed alive and despite the hand Natasha held using one finger to stroke reassuringly at her palm, she squirmed as they approached that night Natasha came home a month ago.

“You’re fighting me.” The brunette’s eyebrows furrowed, pushing harder at the memory Natasha was keeping away from her. “Stop it.”

Red curls shook as Natasha hung her head; she didn’t want to live through it again. Every night it haunted her. She should’ve just talked to her, given her credit for being one of the most understanding people she’s ever met, having her see it again would just push Wanda further away- “I can still hear your thoughts, Natasha.” Her racing concerns rang loud in Wanda’s own brain, blocking out any hope of unlocking that dreaded outburst until she could get her to calm down. “Trust me, please. You have to let me in.” True, Wanda could forcibly rip the memory from her with ease. It would take such little effort, but she wouldn’t- couldn’t. She needed Natasha to let her see, allow herself to be this forthcoming with Wanda. That would speak louder than anything.

It took everything in Natasha to take her next breath, “Okay, do it.” Wanda breathed a sigh of relief, Natasha’s agreement giving her hope of progress. She slipped her hand from Natasha’s warm grasp, ignoring the small sad noise she was sure Natasha didn’t want to talk about. Instead her hand went to the back of Natasha’s head and brought it forward to rest on her shoulder, her nose promptly burying itself in the crook of Wanda’s neck. Her gentle floral scent settled Natasha’s worries; it’d been too long since she was allowed so close. “I trust you.”

[cazimagines]

Born to be wild - Chapter 5

Synopsis: Joining F1 as one of the first female drivers you knew was going to be a challenge but you weren’t prepared to deal with one particular asshole on the tracks. With the urge to win so strong within each racer, will romance pave the way? Or will it destroy everything?

Word count: 1.4k

Author update: I have a lot of important things starting to come up so updates might be a bit slow but I am determined to get one out at least once a week if not more.

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Previous chapter

Every time you thought about that day, you felt the anger towards Niki swarm over you again, like a fiery itch in your veins. You couldn’t believe the arrogance of the man who not only rudely gave you advice but said advice being for his own benefit so you wouldn’t crash into him. You had half a mind to swerve directly into him in the next race, but you knew he would just use that to argue how he was right and that you were an inferior driver.

That thought weighed heavy upon your mind throughout the next few races, though. Were you an inferior driver? Was Niki right? That first race where you came 4th was your best position so far. In all these other races, you were lucky to get into the top 10. You wouldn’t even see Niki and James on the track with them being too far ahead of you. Patrick told you not to sweat it, and you will find your speed again, but you couldn’t help but feel depressed about the whole ordeal.

Yet, it made you more determined. You were determined to fix your car to your needs no matter what Niki said about you wrecking the engine. You grew up fixing cars; you certainly knew more than a rich boy who paid his way into F1. You pulled the underside apart, rewired the engine, changed the fuel consumption, chose better tyres, different metal to use on the outer side and slowly, you started to see an improvement in the car.

It was certainly faster, but it still wasn’t enough. You were missing something, something important, which would improve your game massively. Deep down, however, you knew it wasn’t a problem with the car but instead your own driving, which was holding you back.

Things took a turn for the better, however. A silver lining approached you, a ray of sunshine through your gloomy clouds, which turned out it would be the match to start your fire of a legacy. And that came in the form of James Hunt.

You were on your break for the afternoon before the next race tomorrow. You were eating your sandwich when you heard footsteps as he jogged up to you. Seeing him approach your field of vision made you glance away nervously. The last time you had spoken to him was the night of his party. The night where you had become so drunk, you made the rash decision to make out with him. Since then, you hadn’t spoken to him, feeling embarrassed about the whole situation, and you were hoping he wasn’t approaching to bring it up.

Seemingly James understood you didn’t want to speak of it, or he had been so drunk he didn’t even remember as not once did he mention it as he started to talk to you. Instead, he said something else which grabbed your attention.

“Do you want to go out on a ride around the town?” he asks you as he leans on the wall by the side of your table, looking down at you with that classic smirk.

“You...want to take me out on a ride?” you reply, suspicious of his motives.

“It’s a nice place we are at, plus I could show you a few tricks I know about how to handle the cars. It might help you.”

Instantly you perked up, excited to think that you might be able to learn tricks from the F1 master. Quickly putting the rest of your food away, you followed James over to his car, which was over the top representing his personality. Still like the gentleman he apparently was, he opened the side door for you and let you into the car. Then he jumped over his door into the car without even bothering to open it.

Showing off, he made the car shoot down the empty roads as you left the garage, definitely going over the speed limit. Despite all of James’ recklessness, he was a good driver, and as you observed the way he steered the wheel or pushed the gearbox, you began noting down ways he managed to control the car in a way you hadn’t figured out.

James felt your eyes upon him, and he smiled when he noticed what you were doing.

“If you give two tugs to the gearboxes here, it can give you a little boost which is useful if you are neck in neck with someone and you need to get ahead,” he tells you, demonstrating it, and as he says the car shoots forward with a quicker speed for a few seconds.

“I had no idea about that!” you say, feeling gleeful in realising how much you were learning from James.

Continuing down the road, James proceeded to show you more little tricks he had with the car. He talked you through each one and told you how he had managed to figure them out, and eagerly you hung onto his every word. You two didn’t even notice how many hours went by as he drove you around the town, just getting lost in your conversation till the sun slowly started to sink beyond the horizon.

By the time you and James pulled back up at the garage, only a few lights were still on, and the silence was broken by the laughter of the two of you. James jumped out of the car and jogged over to your side to open the door before you could, and jokingly, you gave him a curtsy for thanks. James opened his mouth to say something, but he chose to turn and look behind himself, and instead of words about how he enjoyed this afternoon, a groan left his lips.

“Well, if it isn’t the rat, I had heard they were nocturnal. Truly living up to your name.”

“You are never usually around the garage at this time, James. Are you planning on sabotaging my car?” the familiar Austrian accent rang out.

“I was just showing y/n a few tricks I have picked up over the years.”

James now moved out of the way, and Niki was brought to the awareness of your presence. He was holding a suitcase in his hand, but after seeing you, he crossed his arms over his chest and gave a displeased look which in turn pulled a frown onto your lips.

“Now it all makes sense. Do you think it’s a smart choice to show the opposition, though I doubt your tricks are worth much”

“Yes, yes, go and be the condescending twat that you usually are. You can’t seem to comprehend the thought of being nice and helping someone,” you mutter, moving forward to stand by James, copying Niki’s movement by crossing your arms.

Niki just scoffed, however, and rolled his eyes, “I heard what happened at the party. This seems to be more than just being nice and helping someone.”

You felt a blush spring on your cheeks as the words left his mouth. Your mouth hung open in shock, your eyes wide. You knew people would likely talk about you and James drunkenly kissing, but the fact that someone like Niki even knew made embarrassment course through you. How would you ever prove yourself if people thought you were just trying to get with an F1 driver?

“Leave her alone, Niki,” James said, stepping forward, and Niki instantly took a step back, uncrossing his arms to raise his hands defensively.

“I was only saying what I had heard, what everyone is talking about.”

Niki, deciding it was best to leave before James forced him, started to walk away from the two of you. James muttered, “come on”, and started walking in the opposite direction, but you had to say one more thing to Niki.

“Why are you always being so rude to me? Simply for one mistake?” you yell at his disappearing figure. You weren’t sure if he would bother to turn around and dignify you with a reply; after all, to him, you were just an idiot, but he did.

“Do you think if you were a guy, James would have taken you out today? I treat you and everyone else here like an asshole. They all treat you like something special so they can get their dick wet. I would have thought you wanted people to treat you the same as everyone else, but it seems like you enjoy the special attention.”

Niki’s eyes flicker back to Jame, who had turned around and was glaring at him.

“Now run along; your toy for the evening is waiting.”

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[getofy]

how he loves you | k.tamaki (hawks)

request: can you do this post but with hawks?

—a/n: yes i can, dear reader. yes i can. apologies if the characterization is off! i’ve never written for hawks in this kind of style before xx.

pairing: hawks x gn!reader | pronouns: none used | cw: so much sarcasm<3, brief mentions of marriage, i write h3ll once, no spoilers | genre: fluff, but it’s lowkey kinda angsty in the beginning so my bad | wc: 884 | sfw

synopsis: in which keigo tamaki loves you in the most direct ways he can (without actually admitting to it).

—Keigo Tamaki has loved you since the very moment he laid eyes on you.

You made him feel like a child. What, with the way his chest filled itself to the brim with giddy excitement every time you walked into the room. You’d nearly stunned him into silence (an incredible feat) the first time he saw you— you were dazzling, awe-inspiring, and everything else in between.

There was something about you that moved him. Something about you that made him want to do his absolute best. Both as a hero and as a person.

Needless to say, as far as first impressions went, you made an incredible one on him.

Without even trying, you had won him over. Keigo fell in love with you unexpectedly and hard. Somehow, you had managed to get his heartbeat to speed up with a simple smile and a nod.

There was no beating around the bush about it, he was rom-com level head over heels for you. He was like the cool-headed, charming protagonist and you were his sweet, alluring love interest.

(He’s totally that kind of protagonist, and you’re definitely that kind of love interest, by the way, because who else would you both be?)

So yes, he likes you (loves you, even), and he believes you may like him too.

However, hero work is dangerous, and asking you to shoulder the burden of being the significant other of the #2 hero would be much too selfish of him to do. Keigo was nothing if not a firm believer in the importance of relaxation, and dating him would never allow you to have that basic necessity. He’s too fond of you to force you to deal with the annoying—and sometimes life-threatening—side effects of loving someone in his position. Having you worrying sick about him and endangering your safety were two things he absolutely did not want to do. Ever.

He lives to protect people, not to harm them.

Still, Keigo tries his hardest to give you the love he believes you deserve because although you are not directly his, there are still many ways he can love you without explicitly stating that he does.

(He’s not exactly the kind of person who prefers going about things so indirectly, for your information. So he’s making quite the sacrifice for you by doing these sorts of things.

That was a joke...sort of.)

Keigo loves you subtly, in numerous ways, from afar.

He loves you when he side-eyes you after he makes a particularly good one-liner (bonus points if your eyes meet because you were already looking at him).

He loves you when he lets you cling onto him a little longer than “friends” probably should cling onto each other.

He loves you when he flashes you a genuine grin—meant for only you to see. The sincerest of smiles only come when you were around him, he’s noticed.

He loves you when he invites you to lavish events he hates going to but knows you’ll love.

(Keigo lives for the bright look in your eyes when he waves tickets under your nose and equally enjoys the slight pout that graces your mouth when he pulls them out of your reach to mess with you.

Don’t worry; he always caves and lets you hold them.

Always.)

He loves you when he teases you just to see that cute blush of yours paint your perfect face. He appreciates the array of pinks he can make you turn — salmon, rouge, hell, even fandango (Did you know that that’s actually the name of a shade of pink? He didn’t, but ever since your cheeks had brought the color to his attention, he finds it incredibly amusing. Almost as amusing as seeing you flustered.

Almost.)

He loves you when he sneakily uses a feather to make a guy who was looking at you a little too intently for his liking fall flat on his face (His job might be to protect people, but a little pettiness never hurt anyone, right?).

He loves you when he tries to make you smile after he notices you’ve had a partially hard day. Granted, he’s probably had a hard day, too, so his motivations are a bit selfish — but could you fault him? Your smile could light up the world if you wanted it to.

He loves you when he whispers your name to himself at night because it might as well be the most beautiful word in existence. Keigo might not be the most serious guy in the world on paper, but the sound of your name coming from his lips makes him feel like he should maybe get his act together and ask you to marry him already.

He loves you when he works hard to improve the world for you — and for himself, too — because the sooner he makes the world better is, the sooner he can finally be with you.

And what a dream that would be.

Keigo Tamaki loves you in ways he cannot yet articulate into words, but one day, he hopes he’ll find himself in a situation where he’ll be able to proclaim his affection for you in such a way that you can't help but fall as deeply for him as he has for you.

One day.

*do not repost my work without proper credit and my explicit permission | reblogs are appreciated

masterlist -> …

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[cherrysung]

lesson learned

pairing: nerd!jaemin x reader

genre: smut / slight fluff

warnings: language, unprotected sex (stay safe!), riding, thigh riding, grinding, finger sucking, dirty talk, slight degradation

prompts: none

summary: tinted cheeks and sheepish glances might’ve been a delight to observe every time his eyes scanned intellectual phrases on books, but as your words reached dangerous levels, you realized not all is what it seems.

requested by anon.

word count: 2.5k

note: anonnie... I think I got carried away with this a lil bit, oops. I hope you enjoy this though, thank you for requesting! jaemin with glasses is superior oof

cherrysung’s navigation

Na Jaemin. Pink cheeks and flushed neck and ears, thin-rimmed glasses that rested peacefully on the bridge of the most perfect nose you’d seen, and his sharp eyes that appeared narrow and hooded as they scanned over way too complicated words that showed up unnecessarily in fiction books.

He wasn’t the stereotypical nerd, in fact, he quite honestly debunked endless labels and beliefs that people like him had endured for years. Unlike portrayed in movies or anywhere else, Na Jaemin was impressingly handsome if you said so yourself. Masculine yet soft features adorned the smooth of his skin like a freshly painted artwork, facial structure built with a jawline that you’d mistake to be carved out by the gods themselves if you didn’t know any better, and an overall physique that even the most athletic guys at college envied. How come the school’s certified nerd was also the biggest hottie? Pair that up with a well-mannered and gentle personality—you get the sweetest boy at heart.

Conservative and reserved most of the time, with his second home being the local library, Jaemin was almost always indulged in some sort of imaginary world. Although popular for his looks, nobody dared approach him, as everybody knew how much he overflowed with shyness, and even oftentimes unintentionally blocked out the social souls that made an effort to utter a word to him.

It didn’t come as a surprise that his grades were also astronomically A+ class and more. There was no need for him to search with concern over universities and a promising education, because unlike you, they actually chased after him. On the other hand, though you did an okay job at even the most challenging subjects, it wasn’t enough to you or to your demanding and irritable parents. Given that, your teacher thought that if you really wanted to improve, getting Jaemin assigned as a tutor seemed like a perfect idea.

Indeed; it was.

Somehow the smartest and quietest senior also turned out to be picky. His looks weren’t the only thing he was popular for—his constant declines on those who wished desperately for his help was too. To say you were shocked that he agreed to lend you a hand, was an understatement.

You officially met Jaemin on a Monday afternoon when the bell rang loudly throughout the empty halls and students escaped tiredly the dull classrooms as if they were prisons. Your calculus teacher called you and the boy over to her wooden, polished desk, where piles of papers that were filled with red marks stacked up. Jaemin carried himself gracefully at all times, dressed in black sweatpants and a white t-shirt with black shoes, you genuinely wondered how such a simple outfit suddenly looked expensive. Not only did his clothes seem to be put together, so did his life in general. He would never miss a day of college even if destiny wanted him to, and his schedule was so precise you felt like an absolute shame next to him.

“Mr. Na Jaemin,” the teacher cleared her throat, hands twirling a red-inked pen between her fingers as she smiled at the boy standing next to you. “At this point, I don’t know why I bother with you anymore, you always seem to decline. But, I thought I should ask you if you were up to helping your fellow classmate over here. She surely has potential, but is clearly struggling.”

You shifted nervously on your feet, cheeks becoming a faint tint of rosy red as your teacher slid over your calculus test towards Jaemin. It read D+. Nearly the entirety of the front page was marked in red, multiple comments explaining why your answers were wrong and circles pointing out your hideous mistakes all for a genius to judge.

His eyes skimmed over your answers, a smile threatening to creep up on his pink lips at just how ridiculous and senseless your processes could get. “I see. Yeah, she seems to have an idea of the topics but probably gets confused easily.”

Ouch.

“Well, would you do me the favor of maybe tutoring her every week for, say, a month?”

He glanced down at you for a split second, gaze returning back to the test in his hands as fast as he had looked away from it. His words sounded direct, leaving his lips with security and firm knowledge; yet, you were sure you could feel his timidity from classrooms away.

“Sure.”

Two weeks later, Jaemin had been tutoring you patiently, sharing his knowledge and tips as best as he could. You discovered, conversational skills and socializing definitely weren’t Jaemin’s specialty, his words spilling from his lips in stumbles and stutters that sounded adorable nonetheless. Contrary to the way he spoke whenever you casually asked him something about him—whether it be his personality, where he’s from, the things he enjoys—to the way his sentences flowed flawlessly whenever he was explaining how a math problem worked, was intriguing to you.

There was something about him that felt new, and mysterious. He was introverted, quite protective of his surroundings and himself; though, somehow the way his middle finger elegantly pushed his spectacles up a tiny bit, and the way his hand occasionally brushed with yours whenever he turned to a new page on your alarmingly huge calculus textbook was doing things to you.

“So, Jaemin,” you interrupted him, his head rising up in question at your sudden intrusion, hand holding a pencil he had been using to point out esencial steps for Definite Integrals. The two of you were currently sitting at your study desk in your bedroom, home alone on a slightly rainy Friday evening, with papers lying around the table and the floor that had infinite math practice tests he had obligated you to do. “How are you so good at calculus. Well, everything, honestly?”

The tip of his ears flushed a deep shade of pink at your indirect compliment, visibly swallowing as his Adam’s apple swiftly moved up and then down. “Uh, I don’t really know. I guess I’ve always practiced a lot as a kid? Maths is my favorite subject so it’s not hard for me…”

His attention was never on you, instead, his eyes shifted awkwardly as long as they successfully avoided your own. You were enjoying his confusion more than you’d like to admit, collecting your thoughts and speaking up once again before he returned to explaining boring equations or graphs. “Why’d you agree to help me? You never help.”

He wordlessly shrugged, hand scratching the back of his head with what appeared nervousness as his eyes solely rested on the paper before him and the paper alone. You thought his face became progressively warmer, a light smile etching across your face. “Are you sure you don’t know?” You glanced at him, turning your chair around to face his side profile directly. “I think there must be a reason.”

“There’s none.” He muttered through gritted teeth, the apple of his cheeks becoming impossibly redder by the minute. “Let’s move on to the next topic—”

“Oh, but are you sure there really is no reason at all? ‘Cause you seem to be hardcore blushing right now.” Your finger moved under his chin, gently guiding his eyes towards yours. “Am I the reason for your obvious struggle, Na Jaemin? Do you, maybe, have the hots for me?”

“Y/N, just—you need to, uh, continue practicing.”

“I don’t want to practice anymore.” A giggle left your lips, face nearing the boy’s hot ears. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I think you are so handsome, and I can tell you like me too. Or don’t you?”

“Y/N—”

“Don’t you, Jaemin?”

A quiet curse rumbled throughout his chest and out his lips, hands quickly snapping up to grasp your own. “You really don’t want to bother me right now. Stop.”

“I do want to bother you. I know you’re not some innocent, saint boy, Jaemin. Stop putting up that pure act with me, it’s not working.”

“Alright,” Jaemin mumbled, eyes sharply boring into yours, “then you asked for it.” He roughly pulled you towards him, your wheeled chair sliding back at the impact as your legs almost instantly straddled him. With no more words said, his hands softly kneaded your ass, pressing his hardening member directly on your heat as he began rapidly guiding you up and down his covered length.

Whimpers stumbled off your lips at his movements, hands flying up to hold onto his shoulders for balance. Quite frankly, you never thought Jaemin would do this.

“Cat got your tongue suddenly, princess?” Your breath hitched at the pet name, and Jaemin could only smirk at your reaction. “You were all talk and no game? Where did that confidence go? You are such a needy, little bitch. Be a good girl and ride my thigh like the desperate slut you are—wanting to fuck me instead of practicing your math equations.”

He parted his legs, and you were quick to take off your shorts, sitting on the textured fabric of his denim jeans as your hips continued their previous ministrations with Jaemin’s harsh grasp. Moans were leaving you in an uncontrollable mess, feeling so little and helpless under a boy’s gaze whom everybody believed is a harmless child. There was a look plastered on his features that you wanted engraved in your mind forever; pearly whites sinking tenderly into a swollen, red bottom lip, glasses hanging lowly on his nose, and a hooded stare due to the growing wetness on your sheer panties that seeped out onto his jeans.

Fuck, did those glasses make him look so sinful.

“Jaemin,” you stuttered, “I need to cum.”

“Already? We just started the fun, princess.” His actions contradicted his words, hands moving your hips faster on his thigh as he squeezed the muscles, igniting louder sounds of pleasure from you. “Are you close?”

You nodded frantically, no longer giving care to the huge wet patch you had created on his pants, allowing his hands to move you as fast as he wished, pussy clenching around nothing every time your clit ran over the coarse fabric.

“Go ahead, princess, come all over my thigh, you fucking dirty girl. Make a mess.”

His whispers were enough to bring you to your climax, legs shaking unstoppably as your hips stilled abruptly. Jaemin rubbed your back softly, bringing your chin up to lock lips with you. Ardent, and full of lust, the feeling of his tongue running over your bottom lip brought another wave of heat that pooled between your legs, and he could surely feel it. Pulling away, with a string of saliva attaching the two of you, Jaemin unbuckled the leather belt before unbuttoning his jeans, only pushing them down enough to release his dick. It sprung proudly out of his briefs, gently hitting his belly and begging to be played with.

Jaemin smirked at your wide eyes, your gaze running up and down the veiny cock, with a final touch of an angry and red tip at the top that was leaking with pre-cum.

“Can I suck you?”

“Not today, babygirl, do that some other time,” he shook his head, fingers moving your panties to the side and placing you on top of his hard length, “right now all I want is to feel your dripping, pretty pussy. Ride me.”

You silently obliged like the good girl he thought you were, wet cunt sinking on his dick as your walls instantly welcomed him with endless warmth.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he lowly cursed, “such a fucking good girl. Why don’t we teach you some basic math while you ride my dick? Come on.” His index and middle fingers tapped your bottom lip, your mouth wrapping around them. “You’re going to answer while you suck on my fingers as if it were my cock.”

On cue to his words, your tongue swirled around his digits experimentally while he ruthlessly thrusted up into your tight pussy with a never ending pace.

“What’s seven plus five, princess?”

You whined on his digits, finding the task harder than you expected as his dick was everything you could think about. Jaemin filled you up so well, fingers occasionally driving into the back of your throat as you choked around them. Tears had begun pooling in your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment as you gagged around his digits once again. “Twelve!”

“Good job,” he delivered a particularly hard thrust, hitting on your sweet spot successfully and earning himself nearly a scream from you. “What about eighteen plus nine? What’s the answer?”

At this point, he was doing all the work, dick sliding in and out of your walls so fast and deliciously. The only sound you could hear around your bedroom was both your skins’ slapping, and sometimes the choked up cries that left your lips whenever his fingers reached too far back in your throat. Your thoughts only revolved around how good Jaemin was fucking you, and how good the glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose looked as he bit his lip. “Twenty-seven!” You struggled to answer, but managed to regardless of his merciless thrusts.

“Four minus nineteen? You got three seconds to answer, sweets.” Jaemin smirked, free hand reaching down to circle rapidly around your clit, his hips speeding up even more. “One.”

“Jaemin, I’m so close!”

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, drool running down your chin as he wiped his digits on his shirt. “Answer me, or you don’t come.”

Your thoughts were absolutely jumbled, puzzled and confused, searching hazily for a simple answer you couldn’t remember.

“Two.” The movements of his fingers on your swollen bud were beginning to slow down.

“Jaemin, wait!”

“Three—”

“Negative! Negative fifteen, the answer is negative fifteen.”

He cooed at you, speeding up his actions once more as you cried out, head resting on his shoulder tiredly while you slightly bit into the flesh, eliciting hisses that flew from his lips.

“Fuck, I’m so close. Princess, can I fill you up with my cum?”

“Please,” tears ran down your face, your cries muffled as you nuzzled your face into his neck, “please do. Come inside of me, Jaemin, fill me up so well.”

Your desperate pleads and the frantic clenching of your pussy were enough to bring him to the edge, your release following not much long after as his warm cum completely coated your walls white, some seeping out from your cunt and onto his member. Jaemin eventually slowed down his thrusts to a stop, chest heaving up and down as pants left the two of you.

“For your information, I do have the hots for you, too.” He exhaled out a laugh, pulling your body closer to his and gently pecking the top of your head.

“I can’t believe everybody calls you a nerd,” you chuckled, “you literally fucked me into oblivion.”

“Well, you were riling me up. I hope you learned your lesson, little miss.”

“Yeah, I did.” You admitted with a giggle.

“Well, you better keep that pretty mouth closed, we don’t want people knowing the school’s nerd wrecked you so bad, right? Besides, I don’t think I want this to just be a one time thing.” Your head rose at his confession, eyes looking into his own for an answer. “How about a date tomorrow?”

You smiled, sweetly pecking his cheek. “I’d love that. How about I suck your cock after that?”

Jaemin smirked, “your house or mine?”

[nice-kill-tanaka]

🌄Hikaru + Tease Crush🌌

Summary: Aaaa idk tsundere hikaru brain go brrrrrr,.

A/N: Lowkey, I’m not too sure about this one. But, how good it is comes down to how well it’s received by you guys. It’s in your hands now tumblr!!

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🌗Hikaru Hitachiin🌗

You, a new second year at Ouran Middle School, happened to meet Hikaru and Kaoru in a once in a blue moon situation

✨Separately✨

You and your parents were commoners from another region of Japan. But, due to trying times, you were sent to live with your impossibly wealthy grandparents to finish your education while your parents got back on their feet

So, you clearly had no idea how to navigate what felt like the world’s biggest campus

Taking initiative, you decided to take a free period to mentally map out at least the middle school campus. You were not about to be late to every single class again, lest you start getting detention

You were somewhere near the courtyard when you heard soft, delicate sobs from around the corner, followed by fast footsteps leading away from you

You quickened your pace to at least see what was going on, and the scene you walked in on told you everything you needed to know

The sobs were coming from a girl in your year, who seemed eager to get away from the courtyard. And leaning on the pillar on the bend, was a tall redhead who looked far too satisfied with himself. At least if your assumptions were correct

You decided not to go off on the boy right away, so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself

“Ah...Did I intrude on something?”

The boy apparently hadn’t noticed you until you said something, but quickly regained his composure

“Nah, you had good timing. We were just finishing up.”

“...We?”

Hikaru suddenly remembered

You were new to Ouran. And at this point, you probably haven’t memorized faces yet. Even if they were identical

That, and the fact that Kaoru was still behind a bush watching everything play out, was enough for Hikaru to try something new

“Me and that girl you saw, I mean.”

“Yeah, alright. What’s your deal with her, by the way? She didn’t sound too happy.”

Hikaru shrugged, “Dishonesty, disloyalty, stuff like that. I just gave her a piece of my mind and she couldn’t handle it.”

“Hm, I figured she couldn’t. She’s crying pretty hard.”

“Then she shouldn’t have been trying to sneak around with other guys.”

Alright...you halfway understood the guy. If you were in his shoes, you’d at least want to do something similar. But, going out of your way to emotionally decimate someone that clearly isn’t worth your time? Seems a little excessive

‘But, hey,’ you thought. ‘To each their own.’

You kept your composure around the boy, shrugging and turning to walk away. “I get that. What did you say your name was?”

“Mm? Hikaru.”

“Hikaru. If that girl’s really as horrible as you say she is, I think it’s hilarious that you’d give her pathetic ass the time of day.”

That jab technically wasn’t aimed at Hikaru, but the way you said it. The way you turned back slightly to flash a shit-eating grin at him. It was clear your comment was meant to say more about Hikaru than the girl he told off

In short, Hikaru ended up not liking you

Meeting Kaoru went a bit more smoothly

Since you were in Class B at the time (you were to transfer to Class A next semester), you didn’t actually gather that the asshole you met the other day had a whole brother. So, that case of whiplash was particularly strong

During a lunch period within the same year, you decided to sit alone. Nothing personal really, but being around twenty-four other kids your age with such a high amount of tunnel vision gets suffocating at a certain point

Not too far away, Hikaru had gotten up to use the bathroom, leaving Kaoru to his own devices for a bit

It wasn’t long before he found a familiar face in you, sitting alone and looking rather bored

Of course, Kaoru hadn’t personally talked to you yet. The only things he heard about you were from Hikaru, which still wasn’t much, considering that his brother seemed too embarrassed and pissed to say anything beyond: “They’re an asshole. They’re not worth talking to.”

But, regardless of Hikaru’s first impression of you, Kaoru thought it would be fun to mess with you for a bit

I’m fully convinced you have the eagle eye, because you noticed Kaoru before he even said anything

“If you’re still pressed about what I said the other day, Hikaru, trust me, I was just messing with you.”

Damn at least let him speak 💀

Kaoru noticed that even though you thought he was Hikaru, your posture and tone held no animosity. You seemed relaxed, even sending a half smile Kaoru’s way

Your aura felt overall likable, so what could you have said to Hikaru to tick him off so much??

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I actually almost forgot about that.”

Immediately, something didn’t click with you

“You sound different today, man. Everything okay?”

...What??

Kaoru wasn’t sure how you figured it out, but no one was usually able to tell the difference between his and Hikaru’s voices and speech patterns, period. Let alone upon hearing both twins once separately

“What do you mean...? I’ve always sounded like this?”

“Hm, must be a bad case of laryngitis then. How’s your twin doing, by the way?”

Kaoru’s expression didn’t betray much, but your knowing and lighthearted smile sure did

He originally wasn’t going to tell you the whole truth. But, you seemed like you’d be too much fun (given some time) to pass up getting on your good side!

It almost felt strange, inviting someone else into his and Hikaru’s little world. But, even if you were just a toy for now, you were someone Kaoru wanted to keep around 

Kaoru introduced himself with his real name while he explained his relationship with Hikaru, and your face was priceless

Sure, you knew that the boy in front of you wasn’t acting like the Hikaru you met a few days back. But, the twin brother thing was a complete shot in the dark!!

But, Kaoru laughed and dragged you and your lunch to his and Hikaru’s table

Ooh, when I say Hikaru was NOT thrilled??

He was seething when you gave him that same look as before

“Hey there, Heartbreaker. Nice to see you again.” 😊😊🙃🙃

Hikaru flushed as Kaoru tried to hide his giggles behind his hand

Yeah, that kind of sums up your dynamic 😂

From then on, whenever you were around the twins, you drove a clear wedge in their “identical” personalities. Just by the fact that you treated them both differently

Kaoru was your partner in crime, playing along with your jokes and often taking more agency in making decisions than usual. You were both mature, yet mischievous, so you were often on the same page

We stan compatible friends 👏😌

Hikaru...was kind of your sentient punching bag

From your first conversation with him to now, you gathered that Hikaru had a weirdly prominent petty streak, with some emotional constipation on the side. All of this, manifesting in a semi-childish, stubborn mess with a hair-trigger temper (At least, when it comes to you and Kaoru poking at him)

You weren’t exactly intent on improving those flaws (Since it’s technically not your job to fix the vices of others), but you most certainly let Hikaru know that those qualities weren’t something to be proud of. Especially when he let them get the better of him

And you did just that by teasing the hell out of him

“Aww, is little Hikaru upset that Italian isn’t being served at lunch today??”

“Ooh, don’t get too angry! You might pop a vein.”

“Y’know, you’d think a normal human being wouldn’t blush as much as you do. Are you really that bothered by me?”

Yes! He was!

He felt bothered and threatened because you dragged out every single flaw that no one (not even Kaoru) dared to call out until now. Not that he could give a name to that feeling an the moment

You were surprisingly clairvoyant for someone that strategically abused that fact. You always had an upper hand, and that wasn’t something Hikaru was used to

But, after a while, his frequent showcases of embarrassment began happening for a different reason

In between all of the teasing, you were never downright mean to Hikaru. You were just as nice to him as you were to Kaoru

Hikaru often enjoyed the bentos you made the twins on random days (Though, he failed to admit it on a regular basis)

When the teacher was going a little too fast, you’d always let Hikaru copy off of your notes

And man, you sure did look good at the beginning of the day...when the morning sun lights up your eyes, and-

Oh...

Oh no.

So, that’s why every time you’d get on Hikaru’s case, he would get flustered and look away. He liked you??

Hikaru can’t let anyone know about this. Especially you.

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[🌌Take this for your travels, bud. Don’t worry about paying me or anything, everything’s on the house! Though 🍁likes🍁 and ☘️reblogs☘️ are appreciated!🌄] — Reagan

[babypandawrites]

Allies, Pt. 9

The Northern Air Temple 

Pairing: Sokka x F Reader Warnings: None Word Count: 3,813 Summary: You thought that the chance of there being Airbenders other than Aang was too good to be true, sadly you were right. 

Note: How I completely forgot about this until now I'm not sure but! Another piece of this series I’ve done for the fun of it is outfit designs- If that kind of things in fics isn’t your cup of tea then feel free to act like these don't exist! But for those who are interested or who might just wanna see; here you go.  This is just what I personally envisioned while writing, again feel free to ignore it if you want, but I figured I might as well share :)  I was also going to wait until tomorrow to post this bc Wednesdays is my upload day for it on Ao3 but I’m also a chapter ahead there and wanted to get my tumblr uploads caught up- so back to back post today and tomorrow :) Yay 

-Navigation- | -Atla Masterlist-  -Last Part- | -Allies Masterlist- | -Next Part- 

Taglist: @boomeraangin​ | @brokennerdalert​​​

“So, travelers, the next time you think you hear a strange large bird talking, take a closer look, it might not be a giant parrot, but a flying man! A member of a secret group of air walkers who laugh at gravity and laugh at those bound to the earth by it!”  Aang smiled. “Aren’t airbender stories the best?” “Was it realistic? Was that how it was back then?” Katara questioned.  “I laugh at gravity all the time. Haha! Gravity.”  A pair of hands holding a hat suddenly appeared in the space inbetween Sokka and Y/n. The storyteller shook the hat, the jingling of coins being heard.  “Jingle, jingle.”  The two searched their pockets for any money. Y/n didn’t have anything, and the only thing Sokka pulled from his coat pocket was a small ball of lint and a bug.  Y/n offered the storyteller a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”  “Aww. Cheapskates!” The man left them, going to ask other audience members for donations.  She turned to look at Sokka, a disgusted expression apparent on her face at the bug that wiggled around in his hand. “Why… was there a bug in your coat?”  “Hey! Don’t question a man and his bug.” The bug rolled over, and started to crawl up his hand. Sokka yelped and shook it off.  Her expression twisted into amusement. “A man and his bug, huh?”  “It’s not my fault we can’t afford to keep him fed.” 

The next morning, the group found themselves on the way to the Northern Air Temple. Apparently, the airbenders in the story they heard were seen the previous week. It seemed a little too good to be true, that there might be airbenders other than Aang still out there, but Y/n wasn’t going to be the one to crush the kids' hope.  That was Sokka’s job, not hers.  “Hey, we’re almost at the Northern Air Temple! This is where they had the championships for sky bison polo.”  Y/n looked at Aang with a smile. “Sky bison polo? That sounds fun.”  “It is fun! So much fun!”  Katara moved to sit next to her brother. “Do you think we’ll really find airbenders?”  “You want me to be like you, or totally honest?” Sokka asked, focusing on whittling a piece of wood.  “Are you saying I’m a liar?” Katara crossed her arms over her chest.  “I’m saying you’re an optimist. Same thing basically.”  “They’re not the same thing at all.” Y/n commented. The boy just shrugged his shoulders.  “Hey guys, look at this!”  Appa was starting to approach the Northern Air Temple. It sat up on a sheer peak, several people flew around it, and smoke rose from a few pillars.   “Huh! They really are airbenders!” Aang leaned, crossing his arms unhappily. “No, they’re not.”  Sokka pointed up at the people flying around. “What do you mean they’re not? Those guys are flying!”  “Gliding maybe, but not flying. You can tell by the way they move. They’re not airbending. Those people have no spirit.”  Y/n tipped her head to the side, watching the gliders. “I mean, they look like they're flying to me, but you would know best.”  As she finished speaking, a glider passed over the group's heads, nearly taking them off. The glider’s pilot laughed, turning to pass by Appa again. Getting a closer look at the kid, it could be noted that his glider was built out of the wheelchair he sat in.  Katara pointed in the glider’s direction. “I don’t know, Aang. That kid seems pretty spirited!”  The glider made another pass, and soon Aang was standing up glider in hand, before taking off. Another glider flew in front of Appa, startling him and causing Katara and Y/n to fall backwards into Sokka. The three grunted at the impact.  “We better find some solid ground before it finds us!”  Appa made a landing on one of the temple’s outer terraces, the trio getting off him and watching as Aang and the boy in the wheelchair glided through the sky. Aang eventually came down and landed next to them, the other boy also coming to a landing. A few kids came other and detached the glider from his wheelchair, before he wheeled over to the group.  “Hey! You’re a real airbender! You must be the Avatar! That’s amazing! I- I- I’ve heard stories about you.”  Aang rubbed at the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Thanks.”  “Wow! This glider chair is incredible!” Sokka rushed over to the kids who had the glider setup, inspecting it.  “If you think this is good, wait until you see the other stuff my Dad designed.”  He began to wheel away, the group following. They were led through the huge main gate of the temple, into the main chamber. The room was dominated by steam-powered machinery with many wheels, gears and pipes.  “Wow!” Sokka ran forward, looking around the room excitedly.  “Yeah, my dad is the mastermind behind this whole place! Everything’s powered by hot air. It even pumps hot air currents outside to give us a lift when we’re gliding.”  Aang took a look around. “This place is unbelievable.”  The boy in the wheelchair smiled. “Yeah, it’s great isn’t it?”  “No, just unbelievable.”  Y/n tried to hold back a laugh, clearing her throat to force down her laughter.  “Aang used to come here a long time ago. I think he’s a little shocked it’s so… different.” Katara said, before following after Aang when he walked off.  “So better!”  Rolling her eyes, Y/n elbowed Sokka in the shoulder. He gave her a look.  “Come on, you don’t think this is cool at all?”  “Not really.” 

Soon they followed the boy, Teo, to another part of the temple. This time it was a courtyard of sorts, it was untouched, and there were statues of airbenders.  Aang was much happier about this, than he had been about the other room. “It’s nice to see even one part of the temple that isn’t ruined.” He spoke, as him, Y/n and Katara looked at a huge statue of an airbender monk.  “Look out!” A voice shouted out, shortly before a wrecking ball crashed through the statue. The three flew backwards with the debris, and everyone started to cough from the dust. As the dust settled, several people could be seen through the hole that’d been created. One of the people walked forward, a middle aged man with a mostly bald head who wore a monocle, a green tunic and an apron.  “What the doodle! Don’t you know enough to stay away from construction sites? We have to make room for the bathhouse!”  “Do you know what you just did? You just destroyed something sacred! For a stupid bathhouse!” Aang, clearly upset with the man, took on an airbending stance.  The man waved a hand in front of his nose. “Well, people around here are starting to stink.”  Aang pointed at him. “This whole place stinks!” He slammed his staff against the ground, sending a strong gust of wind through the hole in the wall, knocking the wrecking ball and it’s rig off the building's foundation. “This is a sacred temple! You can’t treat it this way. I’ve seen it when the monks were here. I know what it’s supposed to be like.”  “The monks? But you’re twelve!”  Teo wheeled over. “Dad, he’s the Avatar. He used to come here a hundred years ago.”  Aang walked closer to the man. “What are you doing? Who said you could be here?”  “Hmmm… doing here… A long time ago, but not a hundred years, my people became refugees after a terrible flood.” He gestured his arms for effect, before moving to stand behind his son. “My infant son, Teo, was badly hurt and lost his mother.” Sniffling, he held back tears. “I needed somewhere to rebuild and I stumbled across this place. Couldn’t believe it! Everywhere pictures of flying people. But empty! Nobody home! Then I came across these fan like contraptions!”  He held his arms out as if they were wings, making flying motions with them as he walked about the courtyard for a short moment. He stopped in front of Aang, who was clearly still upset.  “Our gliders.”  “Yes, little light flying machines. They gave me an idea. Build a new life for my son, in the air! Then everyone would be on equal ground, so to speak! We’re just in the process of improving upon what’s already here and after all, isn’t that what nature does?” Aang was still upset, while Sokka and Katara stood behind him, teary eyed from the story. Y/n rolled her eyes at the siblings, before moving to stand next to Aang, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Sure, the story was sad, but to her the boy’s feelings were more important.  The Mechanist turned to look through the hole in the wall he’d created. “I suppose that’s true. Unfortunately, progress has a way of getting away from us.” He looked down in a bout of sadness, before his head snapped up to look at an odd candle device..? A bit aways from them. “Look at the time!” Three candles burned brightly on a stone pedestal, each separated into their own sections. Next to the pedestal, a large mallet rests, sitting head down. The Mechanist turned to one of the scribes behind him. “Come the pulley system must be oiled before dark.”  Sokka approached the candles, observing them. “Wait, how can you tell the time from that thing? The notches all look the same.”  “The candle will tell us. Watch.”  The candle’s flame snapped four times in a row.  “You put spark powder in the candle!” “Four flashes, so it’s exactly four hours past midday, or, as I call it, four o’candle!”  Sokka let out a laugh, as The Mechanist looked at him, seemingly pleased he was interested. “If you like that, wait till you see my finger safe knife sharpener!” Y/n’s attention moved to the man at the mention of that, watching as he held up his left hand, where three of his fingers were made of wood. He detached them from his hand, before tossing them to Sokka. “Only took me three tries to get it right!” Sokka let out a scream, as he caught the wooden fingers. “Follow me!”  The Mechanist turned to leave, the men who were with him and Sokka quickly followed. As the boy passed by Y/n, he grabbed onto her wrist and dragged her along with him. She offered a quick goodbye wave to Aang, Katara and Teo as she was dragged away. 

Quiet steps echoed through the narrow hallway, as Y/n, Sokka and The Mechanist descending a narrow staircase. Each of them held a lantern, glowing with sparse blue light.  “These lanterns are terrible! I can’t see.”  Y/n ran into Sokka’s back, as he abruptly stopped to open the jar to his lantern. She flicked the back of his head, as he continued to speak. “Why would you want to use fireflies for light- Hey!”  She snickered, watching the firefly that escaped from his lantern.  The Mechanist turned to look at them. “Hey, close that up! They’ll get loose. Fireflies are a non-flammable light source.”  “Are you meaning to say that something down here is flammable?” Y/n asked, as they all continued walking.  “Well, why else would I need a non-flammable light source?” The Mechanist offered a chuckle, as they approached a door. The edges of it were blocked by some sort of sealant, which he felt around, probably to check for leaks.  After checking he turned back to them. “Cover your nose and hold your breath.”  Once they’d done so, The Mechanist slid open a panel in the door, which they all looked through. It just showed a dark and empty room. “Okay, so you brought us all the way down here to see an empty room.” Sokka spoke with a somewhat confused tone.  “Wrong.”  Eyebrows furrowing together, Y/n watched as the panel was slid shut again. “You brought us all the way down here to see a room full of flammable explosive gas?”  “Correct! It’s filled to the brim with natural gas. Came across it my first time here. Unfortunately, I was carrying a torch at the time. Nearly blew myself and the whole place even more sky high. Thought my eyebrows would never grow back! Anyway, there’s a vital problem that needs solving. From time to time we have gas leaks and they’re nearly impossible to find.”  Y/n took a few steps back, as Sokka helped check the door for leaks. “So this place is an explosion waiting to happen?”  “Yes, until I figure out how to locate something I can’t see, hear, smell or touch.”  “Right, is it safe for us to be around this gas? Should we be wearing masks or something, in case we come across a leak so we don’t, you know, inhale it?”  “Oh don’t worry, we should be fine.” The Mechanist paused for a moment, straightening up after finishing checking for leaks. “Well, as long as you aren’t a firebender or something- hah!” He let out a laugh, which Sokka quickly shared.  Sokka nudged her in the arm, as they started walking back. “Oh come on, that was funny. You know that was funny.”  “Yeah, hilarious.”  He threw an arm over her shoulders. “Come on, loosen up. We’re gonna be fine, even if we do come across a leak.”  She put her hands up in defense. “Okay, okay.” 

The Mechanist led the pair to his workshop, and very clearly told them not to touch anything, before going to look over some papers on his desk. Sokka, of course, did not listen to that and started poking through things the moment the man's attention wasn’t on them.  “Sokka, he said not to touch anything.” Y/n whispered, smacking his hand away from something he was about to mess with.  He gently pushed her away a bit, before going right back to poking around. “Calm down, it’s fine. It’s not like I’m going to break an-” Sokka cut himself off, as he knocked some stuff over. Grimacing, he tried to keep it from falling to the ground.  “I said don’t touch anything!”  When The Mechanist spoke up, Sokka dropped the things to the ground. Y/n crossed her arms over her chest. “Not gonna break anything, huh?”  The Mechanist came over, to help Sokka pick the things up. “Oh, don’t worry, that experiment is old and that egg was just part of last week’s lunch.”  Y/n kneeled down to help them too, as Sokka sniffed the air. “Ugh! Week old egg smell!”   “Quick! Find that egg!”  The three started to crawl around, looking for the egg, but none of them were having much luck.  “How could something that’s so small you can’t even see it make such a big stink!?” Sokka complained as they looked. The Mechanist perked up at the comment. “That’s the solution to our problem!”  “Yeah!” Y/n looked at the two, confused, as they faced each other with excitement. “What?”  “If we put a whole mess of rotten eggs in the cellar where the gas seeps up..” Sokka started the thought, which The Mechanist continued.  “The gas will mix with the smell of rotten eggs…”  “Then, if there’s a leak…”  “You smell rotten eggs! Then you just follow your nose to the place where the smell is coming from..”  “And plug up the hole where the gas is escaping!”  “You’re a genius!” The two spoke in unison.  Still, Y/n looked between the two with a confused expression. “ What? ”  Suddenly, a large bell started to ring, and The Mechanist was quick to get up and rush from the room. “Something’s wrong I’ve got to go.”  “Wonder what that’s about.” Sokka said, getting up himself. He helped Y/n up, grinning. “We should follow him.”  “Always a snoop, huh?” Laughing softly, she shook her head. “Alright.”  Grasping onto her wrist, he dragged her out of the room to follow after The Mechanist. They’d followed him to another room, one that was filled to the brim with different war machines branded with the Fire Nation’s insignia. 

“You make weapons for the Fire Nation!?” Sokka was clearly angry with his words, rightfully so. Y/n was pretty mad about this development as well. She pointed a finger at The Mechanist.  “You! You're terrible. Horrible terrible!”  The Mechanist looked at the ground in humiliation and shame.  Teo looked at his father angrily. “Explain all this! Now!”  “It was about a year after we moved here. Fire Nation soldiers found our settlement. You were too young to remember this tale. They were going to destroy everything, burn it to the ground. I pleaded with them, begged them to spare us. They asked what I had to offer. I offered… my services. You must understand, I did this for you!” Teo turned his wheelchair away, clearly upset. The Mechanist turned on his heel, and walked back down the hall, leaving the five kids in the room.   Teo shook his head. “I can’t believe this…. This is terrible.”  “I know..” Aang looked at the weapons with disdain. “There’s so much here.”  Y/n crossed her arms over her chest. “The Fire Nation could be coming for this soon…”  Aang breathed out a sigh. “Your right… I’m going to go figure it out.”  “I’ll come with.” Teo said, as Aang started to leave the room, before following the boy.  With Aang and Teo’s return, they found out that the Fire Nation was coming soon. And they were intending to burn this place to the ground. They were all outside on one of the walkways, trying to figure out a plan.  “This is bad! Very bad!”  Katara looked over to Aang. “Aang, what are we gonna do? How can we possibly keep them all away?”  “I’ll tell you how.” He pointed to the sky. “We have something they don’t. Air power! We control the sky. That’s something the Fire Nation can’t do. We can win!”  “I want to help.” The Mechanist approached the group, as he spoke up.  Aang offered the man a smile. “Good, we’ll need it.” 

“We finally got the war balloon working, thanks to Sokka. This boy’s a genius!”  “Thank you. You’re a genius!” “Thank you!” Y/n rolled her eyes at the exchange. “Can we get on with this?”  Sokka cleared his throat. “Right. See, the problem with the old war balloon was you could get it airborne, but once you did, it just kept going.” He demonstrated with a model that flew up and hit the ceiling. “You could put a hole in the top, but then all the hot air would escape. So the question became, how do you keep a lid on hot air?”  “Ugh, if only we knew.” Katara commented. Y/n, Aang, Teo and Katara herself all laughed at the remark.  Ignoring them, Sokka pulled the model down from the ceiling, now showing off the mechanism to open and close a lid on the top. “A lid is actually the answer. If you control the hot air, you control the war balloon.” He demonstrated again, but this time the model didn’t fly up to the ceiling, thanks to the lid that could be pulled open with a string.  Katara crossed her arms. “Hmm. That’s actually pretty smart.”  “Okay, we’ve got four kinds of bombs. Smoke, smile, fire and-”  The Mechanist cut Sokka off. “Stink. Never underestimate the power of stink!” 

“We’re going to have to modify this to the new design, and fast.” The Mechanist said, as him, Sokka and Y/n worked on bringing the War Balloon he’d already constructed outside. “With both of you helping we should be able to get it up and running pretty quickly though!”  “Yeah! And I’m pretty sure Aang and Katara will be able to hold off the Fire Nation with everyone’s help.”  Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. “They’ll be able to hold them off, but we can’t count on them too for too long, even if we have the skies. The Fire Nation’s army is huge, who knows how many soldiers will show up.”  They got the balloon set up to do the necessary modifications. “Oh she’s right, time is not something we have on our side right now.”  Sokka nodded in understanding. “Right. It’s only one modification though, so it can’t take terribly long, right?”  “Let’s hope not.”  Getting to work on the War Balloon, they probably could have gotten things done a little faster. But nonetheless, they got it done, and just in time too apparently. While Sokka and The Mechanist got ready to take off in the war balloon, Y/n went to find the others to see how they were holding up.  “How are things going out here?” She asked, once she found Katara, Aang and Teo. The three looked at her with slight concern.  “Not well.” Katara started. “Please tell us Sokka is coming with that war balloon soon.”  Before she could give an answer, the war balloon rose up from behind them all, and started moving towards the battle field. From where they all stood, they could see Sokka and The Mechanist dropping giant slime bombs onto the Fire Nation soldiers. The bombs that they had didn’t stop the soldiers, however, and they were starting to advance closer to the Temple.  Katara put a hand on Y/n’s shoulder, to get her attention. “What are they doing..?”  She squinted in the direction of the war balloon, trying to see what was going on. “I’m not sur-” She cut herself off, watching as something fell from the basket of the war balloon. Was that the balloons fuel source? “Did they just push out their fuel source..?!” “What?!”  A sudden explosion set off, a really really big one. The entire Temple got clouded in a ginormous wall of grey smoke. When the smoke dissipated, it was revealed that the Fire Nation was retreating.  Aang pointed to where the army was leaving. “Look! They’re retreating!” Everyone started to cheer at the success, but the joy was cut short, as the war balloon started heading downwards quickly. Thankfully though, Aang was able to get Sokka and The Mechanist before the balloon crashed below.  Currently, they all stood outside on the main terrace of the Air Temple.  “You know what? I’m really glad you guys all live here now. It’s like the hermit crab.” Aang spoke, as he carefully picked up one of the hermit crabs near them all. “Maybe you weren’t born here, but you found this empty shell and made it your home. And now you protect each other.”  Teo offered a smile to the boy. “That means a lot coming from you.”  “Aang you were right about air power.” Sokka pointed to the sky. “As long as we’ve got the skies we’ll have the Fire Nation on the run!”

[juniorgman187]

The Bones (Reid Series) Part 1

Summary: Almost a year after Maeve’s death, Spencer reaches out to the recipients of Maeve’s donated organs to reconnect with his lost love. However, when the receiver of her heart, Reader, doesn’t write back, Spencer goes on a poorly-motivated mission to find her. 

Playlist: “The Bones” by Maren Morris & Hozier   (BONUS: song includes major foreshadowing)

A/N: There is an OC in this story because to me, writing “(y/n)” over and over again cheapens the story and doesn’t flow well. It was a personal decision, and to anyone it sincerely bothers, I’m sure there’s a way you can insert your own name instead. This fic is also inspired by “Things We Know By Heart” by Jessi Kirby. Category: Series, Soft Angst, Eventual Smut + NSFW content* Pairing: Spencer Reid POV x Fem!OC Content Warning: allusions to death, mourning, loss, recovery, arrhythmia (this is an intro chapter, so it’ll get more interesting from here I promise) Word Count: 2.2k

This will be a multi-part series.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

It all started that first autumn after Maeve’s death - just five weeks past a year since I parted with her. I was absentmindedly reading when, rather out of the blue, Mary Donovan called to inform me about a Mrs. Rachel Larsen. 

Although we didn’t learn her actual name until later, she was first known to us as the recipient of Maeve’s liver. Not a single one of the three of us - Maeve’s parents and me - had expected a recipient to be in contact with us. That inability to predict such an event was caused by my neglect to remember Maeve was an organ donor. It wasn’t particularly relevant in the grand scheme of things, and for that forgetfulness, I was truly ashamed, but after reading Rachel Larsen’s letter together with the Donovans, it all came back to me. 

Every single thing. 

You see, despite the anonymity of the person writing to us, it was as if I could actually feel Maeve’s soul coming alive again, as strange as that sounds. 

She was still here with me ... in some form. 

Later that night, when I would return to an empty apartment, I would wonder why I hadn’t thought of reaching out to the recipients before. Even though I’d already started writing a thank you letter back to Rachel, the thirst for more of Maeve became increasingly insatiable. 

While I did have fond memories of her to live by, I couldn’t thrive off of them in the way that I did with that letter. Our only moments together worth reliving were those spent over the phone, a time when I didn’t even know what she looked like. But that letter from Rachel Larsen ... it was somehow more wholesome and pure than any memory of the living Maeve that I could cultivate.

You could say I was doing this to ease my mourning, meaning it should’ve made me feel better, but that didn’t stop the guilt from eating away at me piece by piece as I wrote letters to the rest of the recipients. 

The Donovans had no idea I was doing this, but I reasoned to myself that they would appreciate the surprise. Though they were still undeniably riddled with grief, smiles embellished their sullen faces when they read about Rachel’s quality of life now with a new liver. So maybe, just maybe, hearing from the rest of the receivers would be good for us all. At least, that’s what I told myself.

In one of those rare moments when inspiration strikes and it courses through your veins at the speed of lightning, I found myself being more productive than I had been in nearly a year. By midnight, I’d successfully composed five letters, each dedicated to the receiver of one of Maeve’s major organs - none of which, though, included my identity.

Given the fragile process of contacting the transplant coordinators, getting consent forms, and premeeting counseling, it would be months, if not years, before I would be able to really speak with these faceless people. Nothing against Donor Family Services - I’m sure they do the best they can - but for me, their best wasn’t good enough. So instead, I enlisted the help of someone I knew could never let me down. 

“Are you sure you want me to do this?” Penelope peered up at me from her seat, her pinky finger hesitantly hovering over the ‘enter’ button. 

“Yes.” 

With just one click, she discovered the addresses of each one of those faceless people. This singular operation, albeit somewhat unethical, was the final piece to my puzzle. All there was left to do now was send the letters to them, with the tenuous hope they might send one back. 

Luckily for me, not a single recipient questioned how I managed to find them or why this process wasn’t being handled by Donor Family Services, but I suppose if they did wonder those things, they didn’t feel comfortable asking me. Especially not after they learned who I was in relation to their donor. I didn’t intend to guilt-trip anyone with what I wrote in my letters nor did I want to take advantage of anyone’s empathy, but how could you possibly make a foe out of your organ donor’s grieving boyfriend? Exactly - you can’t. So you don’t. Instead, you send an inviting letter back, telling me you’d love to meet. Which is what four of them did.

Only one person didn’t reply, and while an 80% success rate was great, I simply couldn’t let this one go. Trust me, I would have ... had it been any other organ. 

For quite some time, I was the one with Maeve’s heart. 

I just needed to see where it was now.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

The heart has several definitions and corresponding connotations. 

Scientifically speaking, the heart is a hollow muscular organ that pumps the blood through the circulatory system by rhythmic contraction and dilation. However, figuratively, the heart can be seen as the central or innermost part of something. The heart of a city, for example. But in literature, the heart is symbolic of love. It is often regarded as the source of all knowledge, which is where the comparison between the head and the heart comes from. The head operates logically, whereas the heart functions emotionally, but despite the rationality the head holds, the heart is what people advise you to listen to because it holds the ultimate truth. 

The heart, because it is equipped with your truest feelings, supersedes any logic and reason the head might hold. 

But you see, I only ever knew Maeve’s mind. I could understand the inner workings of it - I’d probably be able to navigate through her consciousness if I entered it given the fact that our intellect matched one another’s - and I shared nearly identical thought processes with her, but that was all that I ever knew. 

And if that was how much knowledge she held in her head alone, then, undoubtedly, her heart held so much more.

Science defines the heart as an organ. Figurative language uses the heart to establish a focal point. Literature likens the heart to love. But I compare her heart to the ocean. Like the sea, Maeve’s heart was 80% undiscovered, and exploration was simply calling my name. 

For that reason, and that reason alone, I couldn’t abandon my pursuit of it. 

That’s not to say I wasn’t ashamed of this mission, though. If anything, shame for the man I had become in the face of Maeve’s death was the only feeling I was truly capable of anymore. Any other emotions were fleeting or insincere. 

Unfortunately, that slimy, disgusting feeling was only amplified times ten when I found myself driving two hours and forty-five minutes to get to Virginia Beach. 

No sane man would drive this far on a weekday for even their most prized possession, and yet here I was, exactly 180 miles away from home, seeking out someone who hadn’t had the courtesy to even write me back, let alone agree to meet with me. Who knows if she’d even give me the time of day. 

She being Valerie. 

“Valerie Elise Bishop was born on August 5th, 1988 in Henderson, Nevada, to parents Andrew and Sara, but when Valerie turned seventeen, she was diagnosed with arrhythmia,” Garcia explained to me over the phone on the car ride here. “It’s when-”

“When the electrical impulses that coordinate your heartbeats don't work properly, causing your heart to beat too fast, too slow or irregularly,” I accidentally cut in. Realizing I interrupted Garcia, I brought her back into the conversation by asking, “I know there are more than 3 million cases per year in the U.S, but isn’t it usually common for ages 60 or older?” 

“You are most certainly correct, Boy Wonder. It is more common in ages 60 and older, however, her maternal grandmother passed away from arrhythmia, so the family history increased the likelihood.” 

At the sound of this news, I had to pull the car over and physically stop just so I could grasp the weight of what I was really doing. 

“In Henderson, Nevada ... maternal grandmother passed away ... family history increased the likelihood …” Garcia’s voice rang in my head. 

It was then that I came face to face with the gravity of reality. 

Valerie wasn’t just a faceless name or a recipient of Maeve’s heart, she was a person. And her humanity only became more apparent to me the more Penelope spoke. 

For god’s sake, she and I grew up in the same state. She and I saw the same sunsets from the same little corner of the earth. She drove down the same highways and byways - we might’ve even crossed paths at one point or another! Not to mention that she lost her grandmother to the same disease that she was suffering from, and if there was one thing consistent about arrhythmia, it was very likely she’d been living with it for decades, if not her entire lifetime. It’s a long term disease that takes years to improve but only seconds to kill. All it would take is just one irregular beat, and she’d be dead. How can you possibly live with that constant fear looming over your head? 

She is a person. I had to remind myself. Not just a means to explore more of Maeve. 

“Hey, Garcia,” I turned the car back on. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” 

“What do you mean?” I could just feel panic begin to rise in Garcia. 

“No, I’m not talking about life, I’m talking about this.” Though she couldn’t see, I grandly gestured to the location, the car, and the passenger seat that was cluttered with files on Valerie. “I don’t feel right invading her privacy like this. It’s just selfish.” 

I wasn’t the only one mourning something here. 

“Are you sure?” Penelope clarified. Which was ironic considering she was the one who was unsure of doing any of this, to begin with. What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have dragged Garcia into this. Something as immoral as this was totally against her character, but she did it anyway because her loyalty to her friends conquers all. 

Like I said, my shame multiplied times ten. If not for Valerie, then certainly for Penelope. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m heading home.” 

“Okay,” She softly returned. “Be safe.” 

“Oh, and Garcia?” I asked before ending the call. “Thanks.” 

“Of course. Anything for you, Dr. Reid.” 

By the time I ended the call, the sun was already setting - that’s how long I’d been on the road for. The nearly-three-hour drive I would have to make for the second time today meant I wouldn’t be home in time to beat the pitch-black sky, so considering I was already in for a long night, I made a little detour for the one thing I couldn’t go home without.

A piping hot cup of coffee. 

I felt something as rewarding as caffeine was well deserved for the self-restraint I demonstrated minutes ago. And maybe it was my exhaustion, both mental and physical, that brought me to the near conclusion that I would truly let this go, but I was honestly feeling like I could accept this. An 80% acceptance rate. Not bad, right? 

Though I was basically half-asleep while waiting for my coffee, I could not miss the barista when she said, “Valerie! Your order’s ready!”

What are the chances?

A jolt of energy surged through my body and brought me back to life, causing me to whip my head around at the slightest semblance of movement. On instinct, my gaze gravitated to the woman walking towards the front counter. My pull to her was so strong that even if I hadn’t studied file upon file on her that included pictures of what she looked like, I still would’ve recognized her in a heartbeat.

I just knew. That’s her. 

I had no plan whatsoever for how I should approach this, and yet I still rose from my seat, motivated by nothing more than the single belief that I needed to.

Was this the universe telling me that I was meant to run into her after all? That I needed to meet the woman with an oceanic heart?

But when I finally got to where she was, she glided effortlessly past me, not paying any mind to my presence. Why would she though? To her, I was no one. To her, I was the faceless person. 

“Excuse me!” I bolted to the front counter after realizing I might’ve just missed my opportunity. The barista, stunned and concerned, furrowed her brows while she waited for my question. “Is that girl a regular here?”

“Valerie?” She pointed in her direction, to which I nodded rapidly. “Oh, yeah. She comes in here all the time. She works just across the street.” 

When I came to this coffee shop, it was simply by chance. It wasn’t even the closest cafe, but it was the one I chose to go to for some inexplicable reason. 

I’d like to think it was fate. I was meant to be here after all. Because right behind me stood the storefront of a building I had only briefly read about in Valerie’s file.

The Bones,  Art Gallery & Studio

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

PART 2 HERE!

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[tunedtostatic]

galaxies of my heart

Vikady, also featuring Sana and a brief Krejjh cameo

CW: injury, aftermath of torture, painkiller drugs, brief domestic violence mention (not named characters), food, discussion of medical trauma & painkiller controversies

As she speaks, one of her hands makes what could be the beginning of a motion to reach for Arkady, then folds back into her lap. Arkady wonders if Sana gave her a crash course on Not Touching Your Loved Ones Without Warning After They’ve Been Tortured Because They Might Freak Out, or if that was something she already knew from her time as a medic. Either possibility feels depressingly plausible.

I finished my first tscosi fic! In which injuries are cared for, miscommunications are miscommunicated, assumptions are countered, and kisses are kissed. Title (and lyrics referenced in the fic) are from “space girl” by Frances Forever, even though it’s kind of a fluffy song relative to some of the subject matter, but not to worry, I have a permit [unfolds a sheet of paper that reads “I was working on my Vikady fanmix in the morning the day I started this fic and got it stuck in my head big time”]

Edit: I realized 9k is a little long to be easily navigable in post form so I archived this as well. I just learned when attempting to post a credited picrew that Tumblr is still hiding posts with links, but it’s at archiveofourown dot org, /works/31851859.

Edit the second: Re-reading “adrenaline makes you do stupid things” by jaggedwolf and I'm 90% sure I accidentally stole a couple things from there rather than the general primordial soup of my brain (the line "That can't be comfortable" and maybe the general concept of Arkady making sure she gets hurt before the person she's been captured with), so adding this to give credit where due to a really great fic that you should definitely read if you haven't already.

~

The first time Arkady surfaces, everything around her is still coated in a haze as though she’s dreaming. The room is quiet, and when she takes a sharp breath in, all of a sudden Violet is leaning over her, her hair swinging near Arkady’s face.

“You’ve got very dynamic hair,” Arkady says, or at least tries to say, and then she’s asleep again.

The next time she wakes up, she wakes up completely, although her mind still feels a little foggy. Her body aches, and—yeah, based on that ceiling, she’s definitely in the medbay of the Iris 2. Which means that they made it back to the ship, or at least that Arkady did—

Fear surges through her, and she peers back and forth. Her eyes land on Sana, who is sitting to the right of her bed, crocheting something that sprawls across her lap in chaotic loops.

Her intention is to say Sana’s name, but she can’t even make it through the first syllable, emitting a sound that sounds more like the “Ssss” of the litter of feral kittens Brian and Krejjh found that one time. Great job, Patel, you’d make a better hissing kitten than a first mate. Krejjh is going to have to stop calling you First Mate Patel and start calling you Feral Kitten Patel—

The thought of Krejjh is enough to make Arkady’s whole mind flinch. Krejjh—

The feral kitten hiss must have been loud enough for Sana to hear, though, because she’s dropping her crocheting to her lap, looking toward Arkady.

“Kady,” she says warmly, at the same time as Arkady croaks, “Krejjh—”

“Is fine.” Sana’s hand comes up to rest on the pillow next to Arkady’s cheek, a steadying presence, though she doesn’t touch her.

“They were with me.”

“They were.” Sana nods. “But they’re here and they’re not hurt. Hanging out with Brian in the kitchen as we speak.” She glances through the medbay door before her gaze bounces back to Arkady, and it’s such a familiar Sana kind of motion that Arkady feels the remainder of her panic fade slightly. Speaking of octopuses of myth and legend, that’s Sana, one mental tendril keeping track of the approximate status of each member of her crew at any given time.

“How are you feeling?” Sana continues. “Park said you were in a lot of pain before you passed out. Violet has you on a painkiller drip, but she’s using the minimum the way you always want. If you’re in pain, we can raise the dose.”

Arkady turns her attention more fully to her body. Pain and sensation are present, but muffled, as though they are far away. Ribs: hurt. Arm: hurts significantly. Legs: hurt, but only a little.

It’s bearable. “I’ve had worse.”

“Kady—”

“I’m fine, Sana. Just feels like…what do you call them…colors, purple, ouch…bruises.” She shakes her head, then stills with a wince. “The others?”

“Everyone’s safe.” Sana pats the pillow where her hand rests next to Arkady’s cheek. “Park found you and Krejjh before anyone laid a finger on them. He got out fine, too. You’re the only one who was hurt, Kady.”

Arkady studies Sana’s face. “How…bad is it?”

“Six fractures, no serious tissue injuries.” Sana’s voice is gentle but matter-of-fact. “We’re going to pick up some skeletal accelerators next time we’re on-planet. Violet thinks that with those in the mix, the worst,” she gestures to the cast on Arkady’s right wrist, “should be mended in about two months.”

Arkady closes her eyes. One day, everything is fine, the next, a few backwater IGR assholes get the drop on them, and now she’s going to be out of commission for two months.

Still. Better her than Krejjh.

The thought is an icily familiar one, although yesterday she was limited to the grimmer Better just the two of us than the others. Krejjh was tied up on the other side of the room, and when the IGR goons got bored beating on Arkady, or kicked her in the wrong place and just killed her, they’d move on to Krejjh, and there was nothing Arkady could do about it—

Arkady’s eyes fly open, and she turns her head to nudge it clumsily into Sana’s hand. Sana cups Arkady’s cheek in her palm, thumb brushing over her cheekbone, wiping away wetness. When Arkady exhales, her breath is shaky. Stupid. They’re all safe now.

“They didn’t hurt Krejjh?” Her voice doesn’t sound like her own, unsteady and small.

“They didn’t hurt Krejjh.”

“Can I walk? Before the two months?” Her voice is still so small. Stupid.

Sana brushes Arkady’s temple with her fingertips, her calloused palm still warm against Arkady’s cheek. “Violet says she thinks you’ll be able to use a walking cast in three or four weeks. Or a little earlier, depending on how quickly the accelerators work their magic.”

Arkady keeps her eyes closed. “Those aren’t cheap.”

“That’s what rainy-day funds are for.”

“Do we even have a rainy-day fund anymore?”

“I will shake Other Violet down for loose change if I have to, Kady.” Sana’s fingers caress her temple again, and there is steel in her voice as she says, “This is my ship, and when one of my crew needs something, I find a way.”

“I know you do.” Arkady opens her eyes, though she finds that her eyelids seem to have grown heavier in the intervening minutes. She blinks sleepily at Sana. “You’re such a good octopus.”

Sana beams. “Thank you, Kady! I…have some questions,” she adds, “but they can wait until later, I think.”

Arkady’s eyelids are so heavy, but there’s one other thing she needs to ask. “Vi’?”

“Violet’s okay, too. She’s been taking care of you since yesterday, but I shooed her off to get some sleep.”

Arkady smiles. “’nks, S’na.”

Sana smiles back. “We’re all okay,” she says tenderly, “and if anyone out there tries to change that, I will demolish them.”

Arkady nods against Sana’s hand, straining to keep her eyes open.

“We’re all okay, Kady,” Sana repeats, and Arkady lets herself slip into sleep.

~

There are hours of restless dreams, and a dreamlike interlude where someone gently shakes her awake, holding her head up and helping her drink a medicine cap of chalky fluid, before she slips back into dreams that finally segue into deep sleep.

There is quiet music playing the next time she wakes up. She can remember where she is this time, and she lies with her eyes closed for a minute, enjoying the sound of the instrumental jazz track she recognizes from Krejjh and Brian’s Infinite Space-Themed Playlist. In the darkness behind her eyes, she doesn’t have to face the fact that she can’t walk, or run, or kick, or punch, or protect the crew, or—

Okay, maybe the space behind her closed eyelids isn’t as restful as it could be. Arkady opens her eyes.

Violet is sitting beside her bed with one leg tucked up on the chair, reading a tablet. A few strands of hair have fallen from behind her ear to brush against her cheek, and she’s biting her lower lip the way she sometimes does when she’s focused on something. Brian’s little retro radio music player is sitting on the bedside table, continuing to ooze soft jazz as Violet lifts an absentminded finger to tap to the next page, then curls her hand back into her soft sweater.

Yeah, eyes open? Definitely an improvement.

She should probably say Violet’s name, regardless of how endearing it is to watch her read. Before she has a chance to do so, though, she must breath loudly or make some kind of noise, because Violet looks up, her face crinkling into a tired smile.

“Hey,” she says softly.

Arkady smiles. “Hey, Liu. Good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you, too.” Violet’s smile quavers for a second. “Really, really good.”

Arkady tries to make her voice reassuring. “Hey, I’m okay, Violet, huh? It’s gonna be okay.”

Violet rolls her eyes, a small smile blossoming on her lips. “You’re the one in the medbay bed, Arkady. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

As she speaks, one of her hands makes what could be the beginning of a motion to reach for Arkady, then folds back into her lap. Arkady wonders if Sana gave her a crash course on Not Touching Your Loved Ones Without Warning After They’ve Been Tortured Because They Might Freak Out, or if that was something she already knew from her time as a medic. Either possibility feels depressingly plausible.

“It sounds like you have been taking care of me.” Arkady smiles again. “Sana said you were here with me all night until she made you get some rest.” She thinks back, trying to pin down a faint memory. “I remember seeing you, leaning over me?”

“Yeah, you woke up really briefly last night.” Violet wrinkles up her forehead in that adorable way that she does. “You said something that sounded like, um…‘You’ve have hair’?”

Arkady grins. “Well shit, Liu, you sure do have hair, don’t you?”

Violet laughs, shaking her head back and forth. Her hair bobs around as though a breeze is passing through the medbay, and Arkady laughs too, then winces as the pain in her ribs flares.

Violet stills instantly. “You have some fractured ribs—”

“Yeah, kinda put that together.” Arkady tries to breathe with the minimum possible amount of motion.

The expression on Violet’s face makes it look like she’s in pain herself. “Would you like me to up the dose on your painkiller drip?” she asks softly.

“Nah.” Along with the flaring pain in her ribs, both of Arkady’s legs and her right wrist have that same itching, burning ache. The rest of her body is just sore, like she’s covered in bruises, which she probably is. “Uh, speaking of which, though. Could I get a rundown on what’s, you know, busted? Sana said I had…six? seven?...fractures, but we didn’t get into specifics beyond the two-month limit.” She grimaces a little at the thought.

“Six,” Violet confirms immediately, before adding, with an abashed smile, “I mean, not that that makes things that much better than seven?”

Arkady resists the impulse to laugh again, confining herself to a snort. “Can’t argue that point.”

“In answer to your question,” Violet begins, slipping into her calm medic tone of voice, “you have two cracked ribs and fractures to your left foot and right ankle. They broke your right wrist pretty badly, and I’m going to need to be very careful about injecting any accelerators there, especially if we can’t find an actual doctor on-planet to do it, so it might be a little more than two months before any, uh, heavy use, but you should have the hard cast off earlier than that.”

“Right.” Arkady inhales through her nose; exhales through her mouth. “Could have been worse, right?” At least she isn’t blubbering the way she was with Sana, but her voice still drops too small and quiet on the last word.

“It could have.” Violet’s own reply is almost a whisper, and Arkady silently swears at herself for her choice of phrasing.

When she looks up, though, Violet doesn’t look weepy.

She looks furious.

“Hey, you okay there, Liu?” Arkady stares at Violet’s clenched jaw and balled fists. “You look like you’re about to blow a gasket.”

Violet laughs a little, flexing her fingers and curling her hands more loosely back against her sweater. “Did you pick that one up from Tripathi?”

“That’s not a mechanic expression. Everyone uses that expression.”

Violet gives her a skeptical look.

“Okay, yeah, I may have picked it up from the captain. It’s still a normal-person expression, though.”

Violet chuckles, and they both lapse into silence.

This is nice, Arkady tells herself. Spending time with Violet is nice. It’s nice, it’s pleasant, it’s a way to distract herself from the itching, burning ache in her limbs and the creeping dread of knowing that if the ship is boarded, Arkady can’t even run, much less protect anyone else.

“Speaking of Tripathi,” Violet says with a smile, “I should give you an update on the latest, ahem, on-ship situation. Our captain has declared that next time she has a free moment she’s going to tear out that weird shallow closet in the hall next to Park’s room and put in inset cabinets for towels and stuff so Park and RJ and I don’t have to cross the ship for them. But when RJ found out, they said…”

Arkady tries to listen to Violet’s narration of Sana and RJ’s stalemate about the cabinets, smiling at the appropriate points while keeping a lid on the sinking feeling of knowing that for not days but weeks, she’ll be able to do jack-all do protect either Sana or RJ, or Violet, who is sitting here smiling at Arkady with love and trust in her eyes as though half the universe isn’t out to get them here in their one fragile ship that Violet wouldn’t even be on if Arkady hadn’t tricked her onto it in the first place—

She shoves the thoughts away, focusing on formulating a reply to Violet’s story. “Well, if it devolves into fisticuffs, Sana could take them, but if Sana calls a vote, I’m pretty sure Brian and Krejjh will side with RJ about the sheet music, and I don’t know what or whether Park would care.” She grins. “So, even odds.”

Violet snorts. “Well, I’ll keep you apprised, assuming none of the combatants wander in here to make their case to you themselves.”

“Medbay and a show?”

“On this ship? I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Arkady grins again. “I don’t know why Krejjh thinks being an outlaw is boring. The way we live, we practically produce our own shampoo.”

Violet snorts again before adding, in the kind of giggle-whisper Arkady most closely associates with grade-school gossip, “I can’t believe they got RJ into Sh'th Hremreh.”

“I know.” Arkady bites back another grin. “I mean, I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. Krejjh can be very persuasive.”

“If by ‘being persuasive’ you mean ‘talking loudly and enthusiastically about a piece of media until everyone in their general vicinity is compelled by gravitational media force to watch the thing in question,’ then yes, I guess you could refer to it that way.”

“I notice it hasn’t worked on you yet.” Arkady raises an eyebrow. “Or has it?”

“No, I have not dipped into Sh'th Hremreh.” Violet raises an eyebrow. “Yet.”

Arkady bites down on another chest-killing laugh before it can escape, glancing toward the radio on the bedside table. “Speaking of Brian and Krejjh creations. The notorious Infinite Space-Themed Playlist, huh?”

Violet smiles, gazing at Arkady tenderly. “You seemed a little restless in your sleep, and I’ve always hated total quiet when I’m sick, so I thought maybe it’d be nice to put on some background music.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Arkady pushes away an obscure flash of annoyance at the sentimentality of Violet taking the time to put on this playlist for an asleep Arkady as though something as trivial as music is a priority when Arkady is down for the count and Krejjh is doubtless drained from yesterday themself and the whole crew is going to have to figure out how to scrape by and cover piloting shifts and handle everything with no security officer and a stressed pilot and a tired medic and—

She shoves the annoyance aside, telling herself not to be an ass. There are literal studies showing that music is good for mental and physical health, right? And she sure as shit could use as much distraction as possible from the ache of her ribs and her ankle and her messed-up wrist. Having a playlist on is nice. This is nice.

Holst’s The Planets has come on, making for a somewhat grim background compared with the rest of the playlist, and Violet leans forward to jab irritably at the advance button until a benign rock song begins.

Arkady gives her an inquiring look, and Violet sighs, biting her lip again.

“I am so angry,” she says finally. “About what they did to you.”

“You and me both, trust me.”

Violet sighs, slumping in her chair. “You and me aren’t the only ones who are. Krejjh was pretty…shaken. Brian and Sana have been there for them, obviously,” she adds hastily, “and they’re doing fine. We can take care of each other. We are taking care of each other. The last thing I want to do is make you worry about us. But…” She trails off. “This isn’t just another day on the Iris. Not for any of us.”

“Well, that’s why the IGR does what they do,” Arkady mutters, closing her eyes. “Torture gets results.”

Violet sounds startled. “Every credible study in the universe has shown that torture doesn’t work. You said yourself—”

Arkady opens her eyes. “Torturing someone to interrogate them doesn’t produce reliable information. People know that. That’s not what it’s for. Torture is popular across the universe, through history, because it punishes people. Controls them. Their families. Whole societies.” She wouldn’t have to explain this to Sana. “When it’s on the table, you live your whole life under a threat. The actual torturing makes the people doing it feel powerful and good, and in the environment it creates, everyone else is easier to control. Win-win.”

Violet’s eyes have gone all huge and empathetic. “Arkady—” she whispers.

Something about that look always gets under Arkady’s skin. “Calm down,” she snaps. “I know you’re incapable of not freaking out when I talk about my childhood, but no, I’m not implying I was beaten up as a kid. The guards mostly just beat on adults; I think they knew that if they went after kids too often, enough people would’ve stood up against them regardless of losses. Or hey, maybe it was a vestige of human decency. Kinda doubt it, though.” She gestures vaguely with her good hand, careful not to pull at the IV. “I mean, of course I got beat up by other kids a few times, but just in a normal way, not in a torture way—Point is, yeah, I’ve known this stuff for a long time, but it’s not like you’re a stranger to it, right? You’ve spent your entire adult life under the IGR. You knew what was happening to some of the people who were disappearing.”

Violet is staring silently at her with that look of horrified concern, but hey, at least Violet’s overempathetic mind jumping directly to Cresswin as an explanation of Arkady’s knowledge on this subject is arguably preferable to her thinking through the percentage of Arkady’s life spent in Special Forces and then as an IGR guard herself, a train of logic that she finds herself hoping Violet doesn’t follow.

But that isn’t the right way to think about it, is it, her brain points out a moment later, the way it does whenever she considers discretely concealing the most hideous parts of herself from Violet. Violet is dating her. She deserves to know what she’s gotten herself into.

“It was never like…this,” she starts. “It was never me in a room with a helpless person, hurting them. But you know I was Special Forces during the war. You know I was a guard on Telemachus. Yes, I grew up on a prison planet and it’s all very sad but once you get over your latest shock about that—you’re a scientist, you can do the math and figure out that I don’t only know how this works from one side of it.”

Violet’s eyes are getting progressively wider, and Arkady drops her gaze to stare fixedly at her own hands. “They didn’t train us on the details of it; not…techniques. I mean, I don’t doubt they had people for that, but that would’ve been above my pay grade. But me, us, those goons who got the drop on us yesterday, we’re instructed pretty clearly in, ha, ‘maintaining control over a noncompliant population.’ Not like it’s just a few backwater goons breaking bones, either. When I was a guard—”

It isn’t even that her voice breaks, not really. It’s more of a stumble over the sudden realization that her voice should be breaking, or shaking, or anything other than steady and clear.

“When I was a guard, we all knew that some of the people we were guarding would be ferried to the more, ha, specialized options. Zone Z isn’t a secret.” Her voice, still flat, is rising. “And during the war…I can’t pretend that what I did in combat was better. I killed a lot of people, Violet. I killed a lot of people and they will never be alive again. You can’t say that that’s better than being a professional torturer. I can’t pretend that, and I can’t pretend some of my unit and some the people leading us…I can’t pretend that they didn’t do…” She stares down at her body. “This kind of thing.”

Silence. Arkady forces herself to look up.

Violet is staring at her in horror, but, for once, Arkady at least agrees that it’s justified.

She can feel herself breathing hard, and her face is wet again, which is frankly an indictment of her as much as anything else in this conversation. Crying to your girlfriend for sympathy about the horrible things you’ve done to other people isn’t exactly a good look.

“Look,” she says. “Some of this will haunt me until the day I die, and that’s good. It means I’m still human; it means…it doesn’t matter what it means. It’s what I need to do whether it means anything or not. I should be haunted. I think even Sana would agree with that.” She sighs. “I can figure out a way to live with this shit, and I do, but you signing up to…you know…see…someone who you knew was a smuggler and a killer doesn’t mean you thought through the implications of the IGR part of the equation before you asked me out.” Her voice is rising in irritation even though Violet is the last person in this medbay who deserves it. “I’m not the most mobile right now, but this is your medbay, I think you can find the door—”

“Arkady.”

Arkady looks up again. Violet is making steady eye contact with her. The horror hasn’t all gone out of her expression, but her voice is firm, not panicked. “I knew, when I started going out with you, that you had been a soldier with the IGR.”

“Okay, but you also assumed anyone who’d fought in the war was a ‘war hero,’ so you’ll forgive me if I have my doubts that you grasped what—”

“Arkady.” Violet’s voice is louder now, but still very level. “In case you need the reminder, I was fully aware of both your history and what the IGR was capable of the day I asked you out. You know, the day we were fleeing New Jupiter in a stolen IGR ship? That day?” A faint note of humor has entered Violet’s voice, though it disappears as she continues, “I’m going to leave for five minutes, to go to the bathroom and splash water on my face, not for good. I’ll have my communicator if you need anything.”

“Oh.” Arkady stares at her. “Okay?” she manages.

Violet walks out of the medbay, and Arkady stares blankly at the ceiling until her footsteps reenter. As promised, the hair around her face looks damp, but she looks calmer, more settled. She sets a glass of something on the bedside table.

“I brought you some juice, which you should be able to have now that you’re up and talking, but—” She sighs. “We should probably discuss this first.”

Arkady watches her.

“Arkady, I…” For the first time since her calm monologue before leaving the room, Violet looks uncertain, then presses on. “Like I said. I did know that you had been a guard with the IGR, and I did know more or less what that meant. And I knew—” She rubs her face with one hand. “Well, I didn’t know, it’s not like you can ever know with anyone, when I was a paramedic I saw cases of domestic violence where you never would’ve—anyway. I thought that I knew that you weren’t the kind of person who hurt people for your own satisfaction, and that felt like enough.” Her eyebrows crease together. “You make me feel safe. You always have.”

Arkady can feel her face beginning to get soaked again. All the things that she feels are careening around inside her, as though her heart is a ship in a bottle and somehow, within the glass, someone has conjured a storm.

“And it…sounds like I was right?” Violet lets out a breath that could almost be a shaky laugh. “You never…you’re saying you never did to anyone else…the kind of thing that was just done to you.”

She opens her mouth again, then hesitates, her words becoming slower and more contemplative.

“You’re right, though. I’m not sure I…that in the time after I’d realized the IGR was a lot less than less than perfect, I’m not sure I ever thought through the degree to which you, as a guard, would have been complicit in…those things. And…” She sighs again. “You’re right. I do think of people who fought in the war as heroes. I mean, I never really had a chance to—or, no, I can’t sit here and claim that I never had a chance. I never let myself think about how likely it was that some of the people fighting for us were…how did you put it. Specialized at things that make me sick even to think about. But also…”

She drops her gaze to her lap.

“I…I know that you killed Dwarnians. People. I know that a lot of soldiers killed a lot of people. I mean, that’s what war means, right?” She gives another shaken almost-laugh. “And I’m not—I’ve never been the kind of person who celebrates other people dying—”

“I know you’re not, Violet.” Violet is a biologist and a medic. Her work is the stuff of life, not death.

Violet slumps lower into her chair. “Yeah. But…because those deaths feel…felt…feel…partially justified to me, because the Dwarnians were trying to conquer us…maybe I let that make me forget a little that those deaths are still…deaths.”

She lifts her face, looking Arkady in the eye, and Arkady isn’t sure what she sees there. “Sometimes I wonder whether, irrespective of everything else about our lives—” Violet makes a swirly motion with her hand, as though to encapsulate the distances between worlds. “I wonder if you always would have been the kind of person who doesn’t lose sight of the death part.”

“Interesting theory, Violet,” Arkady says, once she can get herself to speak. “Doesn’t change that I was the one of us doing the killing.”

As she says the words, she realizes that they sum out to something snarkier than she intended, but there’s no bite to her voice, and Violet seems to register that.

“No,” she says simply. “It doesn’t.”

Arkady watches Violet in silence as she scrapes tendrils of drying hair off her forehead, straightening back up in her chair.

“Anyway. I’m not walking out that door, Arkady. You’re right, I hadn’t truly thought about what it meant that you were Special Forces. There are probably things about the war that I need to…well, I’ll probably never understand them completely, but things that I need to acknowledge.” She sighs. “But I meant what I said earlier. When I asked you out, I was asking you, not some hypothetical better you. Besides,” she adds quietly, “it’s not like I don’t have my own regrets.”

There’s a pretty big difference between ‘keeping your head down and getting a college degree’ and ‘actively killing people,’ but Arkady doesn’t feel like getting into it.

She lets herself sink back into the pillow. The room feels calmer, like the air on a planet after a storm.

No, it doesn’t, Violet said, and somehow, that feels like an anchor. Violet isn’t so horrified by the things that Arkady has done that she needs to pretend that they don’t exist.

“I. Uh. Okay.” Arkady attempts a smile, though she has a bad feeling that she’s making more of a weird grimace.

Fortunately, Violet doesn’t seem to mind, giving her a smile of her own that’s only a little shaky. “I’m glad we, uh, talked about this, but I’m guessing it isn’t doing your pain any good and I’m ready to shelve it for now if you are?”

“Shelving, uh. Sounds good.” Arkady nods vigorously. “Yeah.”

“Also, you owe me an apology for snapping at me,” Violet says calmly.

“Oh.” Arkady stares at her for a second. “I…shouldn’t have done that, should I?” Great job restating the obvious, idiot. “I…” Jesus Christ.

Violet is watching her silently. Arkady takes a breath.

“Violet, I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have snapped at you about something that had almost nothing to do with you. I mean, I shouldn’t shout at you in general, that’s broadly speaking a dick move, but in this particularly context I definitely, especially shouldn’t have—”

Shut up, shut up, shut up. What is a good apology even like? Sincere. Doesn’t make it about yourself.

“What I mean is—I’m sorry.” She bites her lip. "And, uh…thank you. For, um, not holding me to a lesser standard because I was hurt.” Or because I’m someone who has hurt other people. “Not that you should have to remind me I owe you an apology, but…” She squirms. “You had enough faith in me to know I’d. You know. Want to. So. Uh. Thanks.”

So much for not making it about herself. She coughs awkwardly. “So. Yeah. Uh. You sure there’s not anything…more that you want to talk about? Because I, uh, just freaked out and dumped a ton of my garbage right into your lap, and if there’s anything else you need to say, or ask, or whatever, I’m here. I mean, I kinda can’t go anywhere else right now, but—you know what I mean.”

“Thanks.” Violet smiles a little. Arkady nods, trying to smile back and hoping this one isn’t too grimacey.

Staring at Arkady as though deep in thought, Violet says, “I don’t think there’s anything else, right now. I still want you to talk to someone about…all this…at some point. It doesn’t need to be a civilian counselor. Just…someone. But…”

Violet bites her lip. Her pained look from when Arkady hurt herself laughing is back, if it even ever left. “You have multiple broken bones and you’re stuck in bed and in pain, and right now more than talking about anything I just want you to be able to rest.”

“Oh,” Arkady manages. Helpfully, she follows it up with, “Ah.”

Violet smiles again, then hesitates. “Though, there is—"

She is staring at Arkady very intently all of a sudden, and Arkady can practically see the gears turning inside her head. She feels her own body tensing, a runaway voice inside her warning her that reminding Violet about so much of her past all in one go might mean that this is the day Violet finally does walk out the door for good.

But when Violet speaks, it’s not about the part of the conversation that Arkady was expecting.

“So…you’ve always known that torture, um, works. Ever since you were a kid.”

“What? Yeah, I—you grow up on a place like Cresswin, you get a pretty firm grasp of what torture is used for, yeah.”

Violet is biting her lip as though in deep thought. “So…when I was on the Iris…and you’d just stopped pretending to be Kay Grisham, and I accused you of wanting me to get in the cryo chamber so you could torture me for information…you said ‘We don’t torture, it doesn’t yield reliable results,’ and then you said, ‘Also, it’s wrong.’ But you believed…you knew that torture did work.” Violet’s voice is slow, her face still screwed up as though she is working something out. “Even if not for the exact purpose I was accusing you of. So…when you said all that…the reason that you, the real you, didn’t torture, that the Rumor crew didn’t torture, is just because it’s wrong.”

“Gee, Liu, glad you’re having a warm, fuzzy realization about how heartfelt and wholesome it is that our crew doesn’t torture people.” Arkady’s pent-up dread gives way to a fervent eyeroll. “Have you met Sana? Like, held a conversation with her? At any point in time? For more than thirty seconds?”

Violet sighs in annoyance. “That isn’t what—” she fires back, then stops, her voice going gentle again. “That isn’t what I meant. Do you want to try to have some of the juice now?”

“Liu,” Arkady says, a slow grin spreading across her face. “Are you keeping a lid on the snarky repartee because I’m all injured and convalescent? Because if I can say anything I want while you nobly go easy on me, can I just comment that the way that you put cereal in your milk a little at a time ‘so it doesn’t get soggy’ is mind-blowingly—”

“You’re making me. Want. To be a lot. Less. Noble. About it.”

Arkady snickers, then smiles, holding out her bruised but less-busted left hand. Violet stops mock-glaring and reaches across Arkady’s body to take it in a careful, awkward clasp, smiling at her as though…

Well, shit, Arkady doesn’t know how to put it into words, or at least not into words that aren’t all dramatic and weird. Violet is smiling at Arkady as though Arkady is some wonder of the universe that Violet can’t believe she gets to have the privilege of seeing, like a star or a comet or…whatever it is that biologists rock their socks about, a really cool bug or something.

It’s weird and kind of overwhelming, but kind of in a good way, and Arkady just wants to sit here and hold Violet’s hand, and look at Violet, and let herself be looked at by Violet like the wonder of the universe that Arkady knows that she is not but that she could, as Violet watches at her, almost believe herself to be—

“Violet,” Arkady says, wrinkling her eyebrows. “How many painkillers do you have me dosed up on right now?” She squints at the IV bag above her, dropping Violet’s hand and trying to shove herself a little more upright against the pillows. “Also, does a convalescent gal get to sit up around here? I kinda want to try some of that juice, and maybe someday even do something horribly taxing like read an update on our ship’s computer systems.”

The corner of Violet’s mouth turns up in a smile. “I’ll raise the bed. Let me know where you want to stop.”

“Right.” Arkady lies back as the fancy Iris 2 medbay bed hums its way upright. “Okay, stop.”

Raising her head from the thin pillow, she tips her stiff neck back and forth, peering around the medbay, which looks pretty much the way it always does. Sana’s multicolored crocheting bag is slung over the back of a chair.

“Let’s see, I think there’s—” Violet leans somewhere behind her, pulling out a fresh pillow and reaching forward to tuck it gently behind Arkady’s head. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“In answer to your question,” Violet says, still in her calm, attentive medic voice as she continues to adjust the pillows, “you told me back when I was taking down medical info on the Rumor that you prefer minimal use of sedative painkillers, and even the Iris doesn’t have any of the good non-sedative intravenous stuff, so I’ve been using the minimum of the intravenous sedative painkillers and transitioning you to our standard orals. That should mean you’re less groggy, but also that we’re blocking less of the, well, pain, so let me know if you want me to adjust the dose. It’s not all-or-nothing; I can fiddle with it a little without instantaneously sending you to another dimension,” she adds, a note of warm humor in her voice as she sits back in her chair with smile.

Arkady blinks, still stuck on the first part of that. “You did?”

“Did…” Violet frowns, visibly parsing which of her words Arkady is referring to, before her face clears in understanding. “Did stick to the minimum end of the range I considered safe and reasonable?” She gives Arkady a look Arkady doesn’t quite know how to interpret, sort of alarmed and sad. “Your medical decisions are your own, Arkady. I’m not going to override your wishes just because I care about you and seeing you in pain isn’t easy for me. Or any other reason.” Violet’s eyebrows furrow. “No one should,” she adds, in that quietly defiant tone of voice that she uses when she’s declaring something and has realized that she wants the whole universe to know it’s what she believes.

“Oh.” Arkady swallows. “Yeah.”

“We’re coming up on the next dose of the orals in a quarter of an hour,” Violet says, her voice businesslike again as she checks her watch. “In the meantime, are you ready for juice?”

“I didn’t even know we had juice.” Arkady eyes the glass with interest.

“There was some concentrate in the pantry. When Tripathi and I sorted the food, we tucked some of it away in case someone got hurt and needed easy fluids.”

“That was very forward-thinking of you.”

“On this ship, not really,” Violet mutters, holding the glass to Arkady’s lips.

Drinking from the glass as Violet holds it turns out to be somewhat complicated and require both of their full attention, but once Violet sets it back down, Arkady leans back against the pillows with a smirk. “Hey, we’re dashing space rogues. A few bumps and bruises are all part of the job.”

“‘A few,’” Violet returns, but without rancor.

“It’s my job, Liu,” Arkady snarks back cheerfully. Between the juice and the strains of one of Krejjh’s actually-good Dwarnian jazz tracks and Violet’s reassuring presence next to her, Arkady is beginning to feel more like herself than she has in a while, the helplessness of yesterday starting to feel a little further away. Even the pain is…okay, the pain is still pretty painful, actually, a constant burn at the edges of her mind.

She hesitates.

“Violet?”

“Yes?”

“Could you maybe…” Arkady licks her lips. “You said you could fiddle with the painkiller drip a little, right? Because my shitty bones kinda hurt a lot and I wouldn’t mind if they, uh, didn’t.”

“I can do that.” When Violet meets Arkady’s gaze, her voice is calm and serious. “I’ll start with a small increment. It will take about thirty seconds to take effect. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah. Yes.”

Standing, Violet adjusts something.

Arkady waits.

“Do you feel anything yet?”

The relief is noticeable, the pain in Arkady’s chest and limbs cooling down a notch. “Better. Wow. Better.” Arkady hesitates. “You, uh. Said that that was a small increment? I think I could use another small increment.”

“Okay.” Violet makes another adjustment.

This time, the relief is almost total. Arkady stares at the ceiling, feeling tears of relief prick her eyes as the burning ache eases to almost nothing.

Everything feels a little foggier, too, but she’s still here, and able to form mental sentences, and the pain is all but gone.

“That’s good.” She bites her lip as Violet sits back at her side. “That’s really, really—the pain is almost gone. Now.”

Violet swallows visibly, staring at Arkady in relief.

Arkady feels a tear coalesce and run down her cheek, and Violet reaches forward with gentle fingers to wipe it away.

“I’m glad, Arkady,” she whispers. “I’m so glad.”

Arkady lets a long breath out, looking around the room again. It’s almost like being in a new room, a room-without-pain, during a new day, a day-without-pain.

“Sana will be glad, too,” she comments wryly as her gaze lands on the crocheting bag again. “She gets all twitchy whenever she manages to have good food or meds or supplies on hand and someone doesn’t use them.” She grins. “It’s her whole octopus thing. You know, I think I called her an octopus yesterday? Krejjh won’t shut the hell up about octopi now that they’ve found out they’re, gasp, actually real, so I guess I just permanently have octopi on the brain now, and I was thinking about how Sana has her whole multitasking thing where she’s got an eye on the status of the whole ship and everyone on the crew at all times, and—damn it, I should have called her a ghost squid. She would have hated that.”

Violet is giggling helplessly. “I can’t believe you called Tripathi an octopus.”

Arkady grins lazily. “Yeah, well, now she’s gotten to enjoy living with the mystery of what the hell I was talking about. Even sedative-induced grogginess has the occasional upside, right?”

Speaking of twitchiness, Violet’s twitchy question face is back, though Arkady can tell she’s trying to hide it.

“You didn’t override what I told you, okay?” Arkady says. “You didn’t dose me up, even when I couldn’t have done anything about it, because I’d told you not to. So I figured you wouldn’t take a mile if I gave you an inch.”

“Oh.” Violet sits back in her chair, looking at Arkady with that same expression she was looking at her with earlier, sadness and something else Arkady can’t parse.                                                                

Arkady sighs. “During the war. When you got injured, they knocked you straight out. It made it easier on the medics, I guess—no panicking soldiers, just unconscious bodies to take care of until they got better or didn’t. And easier on the medics meant less medics per ship, which made it easier on the brass. I mean, I guess that was why, though I wouldn’t put it past just being a power trip for some of them—”

“I know.”

“—but it isn’t like you can easily say when it was that and when it was—” Arkady blinks. “Huh?”

Violet sighs, her eyes dropping to her lap. “That’s not just a wartime thing. When I was a medic out by O-11, some of my colleagues used too much sedative on people they thought were being a problem. Or who…might be a problem. Aggressive, scared, not ‘compliant,’ whatever. Of course, if you paid attention to who they were more likely to think was a problem…”

“I’m guessing there were patterns?” Arkady offers.

“Yeah.” Violet bites her lip. “The irony was that…this was less of a thing out in the field, but pretty often when someone was actually in the hospital, they’d be denied painkillers because the staff decided they were lying or exaggerating. It was…” Violet twists her hands in her lap. “It wasn’t just those problems, either. When you have a lot of people living in poverty, the power dynamics with whoever is in charge of access to medical treatment get…bad. It was not a good situation, and I was—you know. There. Being part of it.”

Arkady blinks, staring at Violet. Maybe the reason she didn’t know how to interpret the look in Violet’s eyes earlier was because it wasn’t actually the panicky huge-eyed way she looks at Arkady what feels like every time Arkady mentions some detail of Cresswin, but a look of recognition.

“I never thought about what it would be like to be a medic under the IGR,” she says quietly.

Violet finally looks up. “Part of it was the IGR, but a lot of my older colleagues had come up doing the same thing. It’s like you said. Republics aren’t perfect, either.”

“Oh.”

Violet licks her lips, hunching further into her chair. “It’s like you said about the war. Yes, sure, once I wasn’t a trainee and it was me and some colleagues out on a call, we were never the ones who gave those injections, used more than was needed. But that doesn’t mean that the ones I was with were always great about other things, or that others weren’t…” She sighs. “Just because I didn’t do anything especially bad myself doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have…you know, tried to do more than I did.”

Arkady stares at Violet, considering offering her her less-busted hand again, but decides against it. If she were Violet she wouldn’t want someone pawing at her trying to offer comfort about something that can’t really be comforted.

Violet’s work is the stuff of life, she thought to herself blithely only a few minutes ago, somehow not thinking about how much being a medic had to do with death and utterly traumatic shit. And-or, apparently, standing aside while your colleagues hurt and traumatized other people and then having to live with that.

“Jesus,” she says.

“Yeah.”

They sit quietly for another few minutes.

“Well, on a lighter note,” Arkady says awkwardly, “when it comes to your current cool, awesome medic job with our little band of dashing space rogues…can I, uh, have some more juice?”

The worst of the haunted look slides off Violet’s face as she smiles. “Of course.”

When the glass is empty, Arkady does reach her less-busted hand toward Violet, tugging her forward when she takes it. “Come here.”

She thinks Violet might go for a kiss on the forehead, depending on how fragile she’s thinking of Arkady as being right now, but Violet kisses her on the lips.

Their lips move together gently for a few seconds, then Violet settles back into her chair, smiling. “Your lips are sticky.”

“Excuse me, Liu, but I feel I should point out that your lips are now also sticky.”

“Touché.” Violet grins as she stands up again. “How’s your pain? We should still be transitioning you to the orals, so I’m going to get that ready now.”

“Still good.” Arkady smiles, wiggling the fingers at the end of her cast as Violet heads for the medbay sink.

“I know you and Sana are going to grump at me and Krejjh at some point for covering you and RJ instead of running,” she calls, “and then grump at me even more for making sure they hurt me before Krejjh, but if it had to be us, you are lucky you got me as a patient instead of Krejjh, trust me. They got completely freaked out when we tried to introduce them to Necco wafer candy a few years ago and still make grim remarks about ‘humans eating chalk.’ Dissolved pills would not be an easy sell.”

She’s expecting Violet to banter something back, but Violet looks downcast when she returns to Arkady’s side.

After Arkady has knocked back the chalky goo, she watches Violet carefully as she returns to the sink. That look could be about any number of things, but Arkady has the strong feeling that she’s seen it before, the first time Violet was bandaging her up after her gunshot wound on the Gay Louisa.

“Are you mad at me?” she asks, hesitantly, when Violet sits back down.

Violet’s face crinkles up in concern as she looks at Arkady. “Mad?”

Arkady grins weakly. “You know, because I went out and got myself hurt again?”

Violet’s forehead smooths out, then re-crinkles itself a second later. “I—no, Arkady, I’m not mad that other people tortured you. Or, I mean, I’m mad, I’m—furious, but at them, not at you.” She pauses. “And yes, I’m…‘mad’ isn’t the right word, but…it makes me upset that you got badly hurt to protect me and RJ, and it makes me upset that you think it’s good for it to be you who gets hurt instead of the rest of us. But you know that the times I chastise you for getting hurt, I’m not angry at you. Right?”

She smiles on the last words, in that specific abashed way that she smiles when she’s asking for reassurance about something that she thinks is just her anxiety playing up and probably not something she should actually be worried about at all.

When Arkady just stares at her, though, a look of alarm passes into her eyes. “You do know that, right?” she asks in a smaller voice. “I would never be really angry at you for getting injured.”

“Oh,” Arkady says. “Yeah. Of course I know that.” Did she?

Violet looks like she isn’t particularly fooled. “Well, now you do.” She sighs, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry. If—hypothetically speaking, I mean,” she adds, her lips twitching in the ghost of a smile. “If you’ve ever thought I was actually angry at you for being injured in a bad situation…I’m sorry.”

Arkady blinks at her, finally managing to muster a nod.

Violet smiles a little, reaching out and smoothing Arkady’s hair. “I’m not mad at you, Arkady. There’s nothing about you being hurt and in pain that I would ever be angry about.”

“Well, not nothing,” Arkady points out. “You just said that you were upset that I try to put myself between the rest of you and danger.” She can’t resist adding, “You know, my literal job?”

“Your job is being first mate.” Violet’s voice cracks slightly.

Time to see how prohibitive this wrist cast is. Arkady lifts her hand to Violet’s face, brushing a tear from the corner of her eye. “It’s a job with a lot of facets.”

Violet sniffs wetly, lifting her own hands to gently support Arkady’s wrist as she lowers it to her lips and brushes a kiss against Arkady’s fingers.

“I’m not mad at you for putting yourself between other people and danger, Arkady,” she whispers. “In fact, it’s probably one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”

Arkady can feel her face getting hot as she stares, dazed, at Violet. “But…”

“I think it was a very brave and good thing that you did yesterday, and it scares me and makes me angry how okay you are with getting hurt to protect other people. I can feel both of those things at the same time.” Violet smooths Arkady’s hair again.

“Oh.” Arkady clears her throat awkwardly. “I. Oh.”

Violet chuckles, reaching up to dash a tear from her own eye. “You know what I feel, right now, more than anything? I’m just glad to have you back safe with me.”

“Oh,” Arkady says again. “I. Um. Hhh.” Get it together, Feral Kitten Patel. “I’m…glad to be back with you too. Um. Really glad.”

Violet smiles through her tears, and they gaze at each other in silence for a while.

“You know,” Arkady says wistfully, “I’m not exactly thrilled I can’t use a gun, or a knife, or punch anyone, or—” She cuts herself off. “Uh, you get the idea. But what I really can’t wait for is to be able to scoop you up, carry you to bed, and hold you in my arms all night long.”

“I.” Now Violet is the one blushing. “You…”

Arkady smirks, and Violet seems to regain the ability to form sentences, reaching out and caressing Arkady’s cheek. “Well, the scooping me up in your arms part will have to wait a little longer, but you should be able to relocate to your real bed some time in the next few days, and then there’s nothing stopping us from a whole lot of careful cuddling.”

Arkady smiles. “Sounds like a plan.”

“As for right now…I can’t exactly crawl into bed with you,” Violet says, sounding regretful, “but we could try…”

Pulling the chair with her, she moves so that she’s sitting as close as possible to Arkady’s shoulder, then carefully lowers her upper body to the bed so that her lower left shoulder rests just below Arkady’s right one, her face nestled into Arkady’s neck. Her left arm is presumably squashed under her, but her right hand comes up to rest on Arkady’s shoulder, thumb gently stroking Arkady’s shirt.

“Liu,” Arkady says, trying not to laugh, “that can’t be comfortable.”

Violet’s mutter against her neck sounds almost sleepy. “You’d be surprised.”

“Whatever you say.” Arkady tips her head to lean her temple against the top of Violet’s head. “Are you gonna fall asleep like that?”

“No,” comes the immediate response. “Or. Actually, this is more comfortable than I thought it would be, and I shouldn’t leave you alone for more than fifteen minutes while you’re still on the drip, and alarms are fallible so maybe I should…” She raises her hand to her comm. “Violet Liu to Iris Cockpit.”

“Attem—”

“Hello, Science Officer Liu!” sings Krejjh’s sunny voice. “How’s the patient?”

Arkady can feel Violet smile against her neck. “She’s doing pretty good, Krejjh. Hey, can you send someone down here in twenty minutes to poke me awake? First Mate Patel and I are at risk of engaging in some romantic tandem sleeping.”

“Iiiii sure can, Science Officer Liu!” The grin in Krejjh’s voice is audible, and Arkady feels a lingering echo of fear fading from her mind at the sound of them alive and well. “Aaand I’ll let you get right to it. Krejjh out.”

Arkady snorts. “I have no idea why you’re eager enough to cuddle with me that you’re willing to risk getting shaken awake in situ by a pilot making disgustingly enchanted faces at how ‘cute’ we supposedly are.”

“It’s a high price,” Violet says solemnly, her voice sleepy, “but it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

Arkady snorts again, trying to ignore the growing feeling of sunlit happiness in her chest. Violet’s hair is soft against Arkady’s face and her body is warm against Arkady’s side, and Arkady stares up at the ceiling, trying to comprehend how and why she has gotten ridiculously, disgustingly lucky enough to be here, now, with Violet’s hand curled around her shoulder and the steady rise and fall of Violet’s breathing against her.

In the kitchen, someone or something makes a subdued crashing noise, and someone else cackles loudly. Arkady can feel Violet’s amused sigh, and she smiles, letting her eyes drift closed.

“I hope you play this song someday,” croons the radio, “and think of Earth girl who loves space girl…”

A gentle current of air from the vents stirs a strand of Violet’s hair against Arkady’s ear, and she wriggles her head minutely to dislodge it before tucking her head back against Violet’s. As she closes her eyes again, the feeling of sunlit happiness is so strong that she wonders if she’ll be the one to stay awake even as poor tired Violet falls asleep. That would be ironic, wouldn’t it?

When Krejjh enters the medbay eighteen minutes and twenty-seven seconds later, they have to bounce back and forth from one foot to the other in silent agony for several seconds at the sheer adorableness of the sight of their crewmates cuddled together on the medical bed. First Mate Patel’s forehead is smoothed out in sleep, a smile on her lips, and even when Krejjh nudges Science Officer Liu awake and she disentangles herself from her girlfriend, Arkady curls her head into the indentation Violet’s cheek has left on the pillow, as though even in sleep she knows that any space that Violet takes up in the universe is a place where she will be safe and sound.

[five-rivers]

Long Night in the Valley chapter 9

“But what if it’s the hospital?” Inko asked, still staring at the phone, cheek cupped in one hand.  “What if it’s an emergency with one of your patients?  It could be important.”

It wasn’t.  Mostly because nothing could possibly be as important as dealing with Midoriya Inko.

Without a doubt, the woman was the most difficult to deal with person in the entire world.  It was no reflection on her personality, of course, but rather on her unique position.

Garaki could cope with rabid villains.  He had handled heroes cursing him.  He could even converse normally with All for One.  

But then, compared to this woman, All for One was easy. As long as she wasn’t part of the picture, all Garaki had to do was follow orders.  When she did, every interaction became a balancing act between All for Ones previous orders and not upsetting her.  

Garaki was too valuable to All for One for the man to kill him, which only meant that Garaki had been on the receiving end of some truly creative punishments in the past.  

Also, Midoriya Inko once threatened to pull his pancreas out of his nose if he ever spoke ‘like that’ to her son again.  Truly, she was a match for All for One, who had threatened much the same thing only hours later, despite the fact the results presented had been ordered by him.  

This was truly a terrifying situation, and he had to face it without even little Johnny at his side.  How pitiful…

“Really,” said Inko, “I think you should answer it.  Maybe it’ll give you some idea about how we can help Izuku.”

That seemed unlikely at best.  Even so, it would be unwise to go against the wishes of All for One’s chosen queen.  

He smiled tightly.  “I’ll have to step out,” he said.

“Of course,” said Inko, nodding.  

He stepped out if the dining room and checked the phone.  It was Shigaraki Tomura.  Because of course it was.  Normally, he would have scrambled to answer, but…  He looked over his shoulder, to make sure Midoriya Inko hadn’t spontaneously appeared there.  

One way or another, he feared, he was going to die today.  

No, he told himself, focus on the positives.  

For example, Midoriya Inko seemed to have taken quite well to the longevity quirk All for One had slipped her while they were dating.  Very well indeed.  He’d already known that, of course, but it was good to see it in person.  All for One’s youngest son was now in conflict with the heroes, even if he was still clinging to All Might’s emaciated skeleton.  The call from Shigaraki Tomura meant that Gigantomachia hadn’t killed him while Garaki was distracted.  

Overall, this day was going wonderfully.  

He answered his phone.  

“You f—”  

Ah, so it was Shigaraki Tomura.  

“How did you and Sensei manage to lose an entire-a—” And there he went again.  “—ing feral child?”

Wait.  Garaki knew about Midoriya Izuku.  How did Shigaraki Tomura?  “Er, what feral child?”

“The green brat!  Except he’s not green anymore.  He died his stupid puffball hair white—”

“—honestly, I always thought it was more broccoli—HA! He’s a cauliflower now-!”

“Shut up, Twice!  He was wearing a suit, using Eraserhead’s quirk.  Did you guys think I was stupid or something?”

“What?”

“Do you not have the news in your crappy lab?”

“Erm.”

“What are you even doing, that it took so long for you to pick up your phone?”

“Well…”

“Never mind.  We need a fast travel out of here.  This place is crawling with heroes, and the giant boss is going to wake up soon—”

“I can’t,” said Garaki.  “I’m not in my lab.”

It wasn’t quite silent on the other side of the line.  

“What do you mean, you aren’t in your lab?”  A pause.  “What are you doing, old man?  Where are you?”

“I have to go, now,” said Garaki, feeling oddly detached.   The phone beeped as he hung up on Shigaraki Tomura. He opened his news app.  

Masterfully, he avoided crying as he read through the top local stories.  The real shock was that All for One hadn’t broken out of prison yet.  

Oh, and Eraserhead’s quirk, because he absolutely shouldn’t have been able to do that.  The quirks of the past users, yes, fine, that made sense.  The mechanism between All for One and One for All was presumably sufficiently similar.  But Eraserhead’s, that was a different story.  

Unless…  The remnants…

Garaki found that he was very afraid.  

He replayed the video of the incident.  Mentally calculated the trajectory of All Might and the younger Midoriya.  Perhaps… perhaps rather than taking a phone call, he should be making one.

.

“’S like Ragdoll,” explained Izuku, as the pair of One for All members limped through the forest.  “Shiretoko-san, I mean.”

“Mhm,” said Toshinori, lifting Izuku over a spot that would give his sprained and swollen ankle some difficulty.  

“Even though she can’t use Search anymore, there’s still remnants.  She can- She can keep track of a lot more objects at once.  Her organizational skills, visual acuity…  Some things have actually improved, now that she’s not using that part of her head.  The point is, not all of the support structures disappear when the quirk does. And I think- I think not all of the quirk itself goes away, either.”

“I’m not sure I follow you on that part.”

“It’s—It’s a, um.  All for One, I think, physically, obviously, there has to be psionic component as well, the way it works is by destructively copying the quirk and the quirk factor of the target individual.  It’s like—Like if there was a copier in a shredder?  I guess?  Can’t copy without destroying the original.  But, yeah.  There has to be a mental component.  So, my—So, what, I mean, I mean what I—Hmmnnng.”

“My boy?”

“My head hurts.”  He swiped ineffectively at his sluggishly bleeding nose.  

Toshinori pressed his lips together, concerned.  Izuku rarely admitted to feeling pain, no matter how beaten up he was.  This must be serious.  

“We have some painkillers,” said Toshinori.  

“No,” said Izuku.  “I’m okay.  What was I-? I was saying…  Quirks.  My quirk when he—There’s still remnants, and the emergent behavior—” He took a deep, shuddering breath.  “The bits left behind when he took my quirk, with One for All—assuming that’s what happened, and they’re not wrong—they let me access the past users’ quirks, and also since Saito-san’s quirk seems to interact with quirk ghosts, at least partially, it can use that to pick up Aizawa-sensei’s quirk.  Probably could get the others’ as well, although I’m less confident about mutant quirks like Iida’s.”

For a moment, they let the conversation lapse.  

“I think we’re handling these revelations very well,” opined Toshinori.  

“I know, right?”  Izuku giggled like someone at the edge of a very tall cliff.  “Anyway, One for All uses more of a passive copying mechanism, but I’d guess there’s something wrong with its writing mechanism, unless the stockpile quirk just takes up all its time, or something, or there was a problem with interpretation?  Or, or! The others are wrong about me ever having a quirk, and it’s really just One for All finally processing and writing in the other quirks.  Maybe because I’m genetically closer to One than any of the others?” Izuku’s breath caught.

“Izuku?”

“Toshinori,” he whined, “it hurts…”

“What does?”

“Everything,” said Izuku.  “My head.  My eyes.” He’d mostly relied on Toshinori’s vision while navigating through the forest.  Since using Aizawa-sensei’s quirk, he’d barely opened his eyes.  

“We’ve made some distance since we landed,” said Toshinori. “Why don’t we rest for a little while?”

“We can’t,” protested Izuku.  “We’re still too close.”

“Izuku, you’re suffering from quirk exhaustion.”

“Oh,” said Izuku.  “Oh. I guess I never felt—Never felt it before?  Because I’d just break my bones first.”

Toshinori visibly cringed.  “If I understand what you just said correctly,” he said, taking Izuku by the shoulders and guiding him gently towards a fallen tree, “what you did back there with young Aizawa’s quirk was akin to running a race with a broken leg.”

“W-well, I mean, only if—only if—they’re right about it being my quirk.  And n-not just something One for All can do.”

“Mm,” said Toshinori, dubiously.  “Even then, it isn’t something quite natural for you, is it? And this right after receiving Float.”

“It,” said Izuku, frowning, and letting himself be directed. “Actually, it felt…  Good?  Right before it started hurting.  Like… satisfying, almost?  Like when I used One for All for the first time…  Well, before I realized all my bones were broken.”

“It wasn’t quite all of them, was it?”

Izuku shrugged.  He blinked slowly as he sat down on the log.  “It’s cold.”

“It is December,” said Toshinori, unzipping his coat.  “Let me see here, I had some winter clothing for you in here somewhere…  and we should take a better look at your ankle.”  He sat down next to Izuku, who immediately leaned towards him, not quite touching.  

On impulse, Toshinori wrapped the open edge of the coat around Izuku, pulling him close.    

Izuku rested his head against Toshinori’s chest and brought up his knees to hug them.  “This’s warm,” he mumbled.  

“How about,” said Toshinori, “you just rest for a few minutes. Then we can sort everything else out.”

“Okay…”

.

“Well,” said Recovery Girl, entering the conference room the hospital had lent them, “no one is in any danger of dying.”

“But?” said Hitoshi, bracing himself for bad news.  

“No but.  They’re all fine, beyond not waking up, but you all already knew that.  So.”  She hopped into a seat at the table they’d all squeezed around.  “What have you found out?”

She directed the question to Hizashi, who had his head in his hands, his elaborately styled hair almost hitting Jirou and Kaminari, who were seated across from him.  

“Midoriya has a sentient quirk and no one bothered to mention it.”

“I’m not sure Midori knew,” said Tsuyu.  “It does seem like something he’d mention.”

“I don’t know,” said Kaminari.  “He’s, like, weirdly cagey about his quirk.”

Tokoyami crossed his arms.  “Hm.  He may have been hiding it.  Possession of a sentient quirk casts one into the shadow of the commission’s regard.”

“Huh?”

“People with sentient quirks are monitored by the Hero Commission,” said Hitoshi.  “Just like people with ‘villainous’ quirks.  

“He was not hiding, mes amis,” said Aoyama.  “That’s absurd!  He was simply a late bloomer, like myself.”

“Does it really matter if he knew or not?” asked Jirou.  “Everyone has stuff they’d rather not tell other people.”

“She’s right,” said Kayama-sensei.  

“Well,” said Yaoyorzu, “we’re going to try to help him, aren’t we?”

There was a murmur of agreement.

“But how?”

“Overthrow the government?” suggested Jirou.  

“Start a social media campaign?” said Kaminari, at the same time.  

They looked at each other.  

“And you call yourself an anarchist,” scoffed Jirou.  

“In my defense, I have never once called myself an anarchist.”

“As much as I like the idea of overthrowing the government, the social media idea is probably more doable,” said Hitoshi.  “I mean, there’s only fourteen of us here.  What are we going to do against the government?”

“As much as I hate to say it,” said Kayama-sensei, “we do have more resources than just the people in this room.  Like the person who sent us to extract you in the first place.”

“You mean,” said Shouji, voice hushed, “the rat god?”

Kayama-sensei blanched.  “Where did you hear that?”

All the students, including Hitoshi, pointed at Hizashi, because, really, she should have known that.  Actually, wait, one of them hadn’t and had instead buried his face in his hands.  That was… Kouda.  Yeah. Kouda.  

“What’s up with him?” asked Hitoshi.  

Mineta snickered.  A baleful collective glare was turned on him.  

“What?” he whined.  

Aoyama sighed.  “Midoriya once asked him if he could control our fantabulous Principal Nezu, since Principal Nezu is technically an animal.”

“Ever since then,” continued Yaoyorozu, “he has a crisis whenever the principal is brought up.”

“Man,” said Kaminari, nodding in Hitoshi’s direction, “I bet that if Midoriya was here, he’d be asking you if you could control Principal Nezu, since he’s not human.”

… That was a good question.  

“Speaking of Midoriya,” said Satou, as if they hadn’t been doing exactly that all along, “I don’t think we can overthrow the government without him.  He’s our plan guy, usually.”

“Even with Nezu?” asked Hizashi.  

The members of class 1-A seemed thoughtful.

“Maybe.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Mineta, “we’re serious about that? I thought it was a joke.”

“Okay,” said Yaoyorozu, “perhaps we should discuss our other options first.”

“Oh!” said Aoyama.  “We could become vigilantes!”

“What…  What would be the point of that?” asked Hitoshi.  

Aoyama did not have an answer.  

Hizashi’s phone started ringing.  “Oh, no,” he said, “it’s him.  Does he know I’ve been calling him the rat god behind his back?”

“Probably,” said Kayama-sensei, “but I don’t think that’s what this is about.”

Hizashi answered his phone.  “Heeeeeyyyyyy, Principal Nezu, what-?  Oh!  Oh, yeah, yeah, we were planning on that, but we weren’t sure—yeah, yeah, I’ll tell them, and –” He went pale.  “You already knew about that, huh?  Haha, yeah, yep, okay, okay.  See you soon?”  He cringed as he hung up.  “He wants us all back at school before the commission decides to interrogate us. Also, he said to check the news.”

“It’s just going to be more slander of Midoriya,” said Jirou, looking at her own phone, “why both—Oh.”

“Still can’t believe they think Midoriya kidnapped All Might,” mumbled one of Shouji’s free mouth hands as Hitoshi unlocked his own phone.  

“I know.  Do you remember when he came into the cafeteria to ask Midoriya to eat lunch with him?” asked Kaminari.

“Which time?” asked Dark Shadow, cackling.  

“It was cute, kero,” said Asui.  “I have pictures.”

“We can use those for the social media campaign!”

Hitoshi’s news app loaded.  He looked up and met Jirou’s eyes.  Judging by her pale face, what he’d seen wasn’t a hallucination.  

.

“Am I a dog, a mouse, or a bear?” chirped Nezu as he answered his phone.  “One thing’s for sure, I’m Principal Nezu?  How can I help you, Mr. Hero Commission President?”

“I’m sure you’re following the news,” said the president.

“Of course,” said Nezu, patting Eri’s head.  She’d been staring at his phone like a predator faced with prey since he answered.  They had, indeed, been watching the news.  

“We need Midoriya Izuku’s medical records and the blood sample you have from him. You should have it ready by the time our investigators arrive.”

“Oh?  Investigators?”

“To search Midoriya Izuku’s personal effects for clues. You should also prepare Chisaki Eri, Togata Mirio, and the teachers involved in Midoriya Izuku’s education for questioning.”

“Thank you for giving me a heads up, Mr. President.”

There was a suspicious silence on the other end of the line.  “What are you planning?”

“Nothing at all!”

“You aren’t going to win this fight.”

“What fight, Mr. President?  Aren’t we both on the side of heroes?”

“If you get in our way, I will make sure your precious school goes down with Midoriya.”

“Oh-ho!  Is that a threat, Mr. President?”

“A promise.  Public opinion isn’t something you can think your way out of, and UA has been on thin ice since the attack on the USJ.”

“I see,” said Nezu, fighting against the urge to bare his teeth and snarl.  “In any case, I will not stand in the way of the law.”

“Good.”

The line went dead.  “Oh, dear,” said Nezu.  “He really doesn’t understand me at all.”

“What areya going to do?” asked Eri.  

“Follow the law,” said Nezu.  

Eri scowled.

“Bothering by the book, sir?” asked Togata, who had been hiding in Aizawa’s kitchen, baking.  

“Oh, yes.  The good heroes who were here earlier had the authority to request a piece of Midoriya-kun’s clothing, but what Mr. Hero Commission President is asking for is quite different.”  

“How?” asked Eri.  

“They need certain forms and paperwork in order to force me to do so much as let them in the front gate.  Which cannot, of course, be opened to outsiders by teachers without my express permission.  And if I am involved in an emergency involving one of my wards at the time…”

“That’s me!” said Eri, bouncing on the couch.  

“Indeed, it is.”

“So,” she said, “I’ve got to be an em-er-gen-cy?” she asked, carefully sounding out the word.”

“You don’t need to do anything,” said Nezu, “except say that I was occupied with you when the commission representatives arrived.”

Eri nodded very seriously.  “Can we watch Deku kick the bad guy again?”

Nezu chortled.  

“Did I say something funny?” asked Eri, her face pinching again.  

“Not at all, not at all.  I’m just imagining how others might react to you calling Hawks a bad guy.”

“He’s fighting Deku, so he’s a bad guy.”

“Immaculate logic, young lady,” said Nezu, patting Eri on the head.  

.

Izuku walked through Nana’s misty memories, searching for her and Suzuki.  

Hopefully, Nana hadn’t reached through the dream to kill the guy in real life.  He didn’t like Suzuki.  In fact, he pretty much hated him.  But murder was still, well, murder.  

He had some things to talk to Nana about.  

The far more comprehensive connection he currently had to One for All, thanks to Saito-san’s quirk, meant that he knew far more than he usually did, about One for All, the others, All for One, and even himself.  Enough that he was twitching for his notebook and pencil, because he was afraid he would forget once the quirk wore off.  

One of the things he knew now was that One for All had usability adaptations.  Little things that tweaked the user’s body and subconscious in such a way that made the quirk actually viable.  Required secondary powers, to use an older term.  

A common one was the heat and burn resistance most fire users had.  Bakugou had lighters in his palms to set his sweat off.  Tokoyami had amazing night vision.  Hagakure was resistant to cancer.  

One for All read the DNA of potential recipients, to see if they could handle the quirk.  One couldn’t go shoving quirks into random people all willy-nilly, even if the quirk in question was One for All.  That’s why the noumu were so messed up.  All for One didn’t have that compatibility-checking adaptation.  

But since compatibility here was a function of both mentality and DNA… that meant…

“Were you ever going to tell me that we’re all related?” he asked Nana.  “Speaking of which.”  He pointed at the memory-shade of a young Gran Torino.  “How is it that everyone I’m related to is so tall?  Why are Mom and I midgets?  And where did the green hair come from?  I’m having a crisis.”

Nana chuckled, but it was a sad sound.  “Thanks for trying to cheer me up, kiddo.”

(The effect would have been better if her boots weren’t stained with blood.)

“Okay, but seriously,” said Izuku, sitting on the railing next to Nana.  They watched the memory play out.  “You guys all knew.  Why didn’t you say anything?  I think Toshinori’d be happy to be related to you, even if it’s only tangentially.”

“But would he be happy with the other part?”

“Huh?”

“Being related to him.”

“I think he’d overlook that.  I mean, One was related to him, too.  So it doesn’t really matter.  And I’m…”  He faltered. They had yet to confront this particular thing.  

“You should talk to One and Four,” suggested Nana, gently. “Their perspective is probably closest to yours.”

“Will I have time?”

“As long as we’re with you, eventually,” said Nana.  “This,” she gestured at the dreamscape, “changes things.  You know this feeling, now.  You won’t forget.”

Izuku nodded.  “Should I call you grandma, now?”

“That makes me feel old.”

“You are old.”

“Ouch, kid.  But sure.”

“That aside, I do want to know where the green hair comes from.”

Nana sighed.  “It’s from me.  I used to dye my hair.  Then I got a stylist to permanently change it with a quirk.”

“But… why?”

Nana slumped sideways.  “The kids at my school…  They were always saying, ‘Oh, Nana, you’re so green.  Just like your name.  Green Vegetable Nana.”

“Name related trauma is something we have in common.”

“Unfortunately.”

“So.  Suzuki.”

“Under that rock.”  She pointed to a massive boulder.  

Izuku sighed.  “What are we going to do with him?”

“Your call,” said Nana.  

“Does it have to be?”

.

Gigantomachia shrugged dirt and trees from his shoulders and sniffed the air.  The radio around his neck crackled as the doctor stopped transmitting.  This, he decided, catching the scent of the Little Lord, was a joyful day.  

Only once before had he received the privilege of smelling this scent.  That day was eternally carved into his memory.  The Little Lord had been so small, but so smart!  So cunning!  So much better than Shigaraki Tomura!

Machia wondered if he would still be small, or if he had grown up to be as big as Lord!  Or even Machia!

Probably, he would not be as big as Machia.  Still!

How wonderful!  

Machia wondered if the Little Lord would smile at him again. That had been nice.  

[thewebcomicsreview]

Homestuck 2 has updated! Christmas is ruined!

Previously, on Homestuck 2: Literally nothing happened, and a non-trivial portion of the patreon supporters gave up and quit. Can this update pull a Christmas miracle and right the sinking ship of Homestuck 2? Probably not, but let’s find out! 

We’re back in Candyland, having completely skipped over Karkat and John talking about Dave’s apparent death, because this comic is only interested in long conversations when they’re boring and not about anything at all. That’s alright, I got the gist of it.

When Karkat is finally gone, John still doesn’t move. It isn’t as though he has nowhere else to go, since there are quite a few places he might attempt to make himself useful, for better or for worse.

So, it appears to be morning now, meaning that John’s son has been missing in a war zone for almost 24 hours and I guess John literally forgot Harry existed?

Prediction: This conversation is going to end in some variant of “Where is our son?” “Oh shit!”

ROXY: hey john can u do me a quick solid

ROXY: actly idk how quick itll be but its definitely solid

ROXY: harry anderson says i just missed u being here but could u skip back on over?

What.

So, I went back and checked, and apparently nowhere is it explicitly said that Harry Anderson was also looking for the Vriskas, so I guess he....stayed home? Which makes sense, I suppose, but maybe a “Stay here I’ll go look for them” would’ve helped. I wasn’t the only one who thought Harry was out looking for Vriska too. 

ROXY: sup

ROXY: follow me

ROXY: well were just going to my room so i guess technically u know the way

JOHN: haha ok.

John follows, trying to shake the ominous feeling he got from what she’d just said. He’d been in and out of this house a lot in the past few days. Why should this be any different?

Is Roxy....horny? Is the solid she’s looking for John’s dick? I mean, that’d make her saying Harry wasn’t available kind of weird, but I think this framing is a fake-out.

...

What the fuck is that lamp, Jesus Christ it’s awful. Just a cat’s asshole, facing the door.

ROXY: r u kiddin me rn egbert

JOHN: i’m not? unless you were, in which case yeah lets say i was also kidding.

JOHN: oh my god, i’m sorry, i don’t know why this making me freak out.

ROXY: i remember our past boot knockin with fondness but that is a situation im not interested in revisiting

Oh hey, it was a fakeout. Good job, Homestuck 2. You successfully implied something just through the art. Art which, by the way, looks a lot better than the last chapter. There are backgrounds and everything. I wonder if Chapter 15 was rushed out due to Hiveswap and that’s why it was so weak?

He’s almost embarrassed by how relieved he feels. So what if his ex wife wanted to hook up? Shouldn’t that be a situation he could navigate? Don’t people like to find solace in human physical connection during dire times? Why did the idea of it make his mind white out in panic more than, say, any number of the traumas he just experienced?

I’m not the biggest fan of the way the narration is going JOHN IS AFRAID OF SEX WITH ROXY LIKE HE’S A TEENAGE VIRGIN AGAIN (LIKE IN HS1!) AND IT DOESN’T REALLY MAKE SENSE PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IT’LL BE IMPORTANT LATER, but okay, noted.

ROXY: u said ur house is gone??

JOHN: yep.

JOHN: completely.

ROXY: jeez

Heh. I like Roxy, still. 

JOHN: so i just sat there, watching, trying to figure out why watching my house burn down felt like i was being released from prison.

If this comic actually uses the phrase “home” and “stuck” in the same sentence I’m turning this blog around and we’ll go right back to Winnipeg.

ROXY: aight then no wind bending just use your mangrit

Roxy flexes, the corner of her mouth pulled up into a familiar grin. John feels his guts, so recently calmed, twist up into knots again. Her eyebrows shoot up and the smile loosens. He must have shown something on his face.

ROXY: ok or just like push when i push

ROXY: we both got sick muscles

ROXY: no other adjectives necessary

I feel unqualified to talk about how hard Roxy is pushing the June Egbert thing.

....Is that the fucking portal from Hiveswap under a tarp? Also hi Candy Callie, appearing in HS2 for the first time. One of the Calliope’s is nonbinary, I think, but I honestly can’t remember and I think it’s Meat Calliope? 

JOHN: do i get to know what that big thing under the sheet is?

ROXY: hmmmmmm no

JOHN: oh ok.

JOHN: are you sure? i mean, it seems like a pretty prominent feature of the room.

JOHN: space.

JOHN: wherever we are.

ROXY: and a totally mysterious n COMPLETELY inconspicuous feature it will have to remain for now

ROXY: we r kinda in a hurry here fyi

ROXY: and by that i mean

ROXY: we are in precisely the amount of hurry that means im excused from having to a that specific q rn

JOHN: right, sorry.

JOHN: i will pay no attention to the object behind the curtain.

ROXY: u catch on fast egbert

Oh thing HS2 has not been great at is that it has a lot of plot mysteries that are supposed to keep us enticed but they don’t really get implanted into the audience’s head (Remember Vrissy mysteriously collapsing that one time? Probably not, she did it off screen and the boys kind of laughed it off). This one’s hard to miss.

JOHN: so... this is all downstairs?

JOHN: it seems like you had a lot of work done.

ROXY: well no not x actly

ROXY: were in the old meteor

It’s kind of weird how this meteor keeps popping up like this. 

CALLIOPE: besides, hUman divorces are even more fascinating than i had ever imagined, and being able to witness yoUrs in motion was an honoUr.

This is an unexpected but not unwelcome direction for Callie to have gone.

CALLIOPE: ah right, right. yoU're probably a little cUrioUs as to where the dickens we are.

CALLIOPE: how much do yoU know aboUt black holes?

Oh, wow, we’re going right there, then. This does seem like a bit of a reaction to complaints HS2 wasn’t shmoovin’ enough, but maybe I’m reading too much into it.

CALLIOPE: no, i mean, what if oUr whole WORLD was inside a black hole.

JOHN: ok.

A’ight, that got a laugh out of me

JOHN: ugh, i fucking KNEW it!

JOHN: i'm so sorry.

JOHN: i'm so sorry that i put the earth inside a black hole everyone. ):

I like this conversation a lot. 

ROXY: iirc at least part of y u got so weepy was the fact that u couldnt believe a version of earth existed where ppl got 2 watch more mcconaughey films than you

JOHN: listen.

JOHN: i simply don't think you all appreciated the gift you were given.

Quite a bit, in fact.

ROXY: ur not gonna enter a weird time vortex and change the trajectory of a little girls life with the power of love

JOHN: aw.

Roxy and John have a good dynamic. 

CALLIOPE: bUt Upon her departUre, the rift closed for good. as far as i can see, there's simply no way for Us to commUnicate with the world oUtside the black hole.

CALLIOPE: i woUld certainly be very sUrprised to find oUt that anyone had managed sUch a thing!

JOHN: ...right.

John’s phone has very good coverage, since he was able to talk to Terezi in the epilogues, as we’re being subtly reminded of here with that ... before the “right”. I wonder if it still works after alt-Calliope left.

CALLIOPE: oUr exclUsion from the overarching coUrse of events which governs all reality means that oUr existence here is liable to dramatic and violent Upheaval.

CALLIOPE: to pUt it another way, becaUse nothing in here "matters", we are likely to be sUbjected to things which are a bit bats in the belfry, for no reason other than it's totally insignificant to the wider canon of reality.

CALLIOPE: and mUch thoUgh i am personally titillated by some of the conseqUences of this predicament, it is a degrading way for Us to live. u_u

Okay, so we are now being explicitly told that living in the black hole is fucking with the characters and is part of the reason they make such baffling decisions, like Rose not telling Kanaya about Yiffy, or naming her daughter “Yiffy” in the first place.

CALLIOPE: we need yoU to free vriska from the clUtches of oUr misgUided friend jane, and bring her here, to the singUlarity.

ROXY: weve been calling it the plot point

CALLIOPE: yes, the plot point is a key part of oUr plan

CALLIOPE: as far as we have been able to sUrmise, the only remaining method for escaping oUr grim confinement depends on leveraging the UniqUe properties of this location to create an event of sUch catalcysmic proportions that it simply cannot be contained within the black hole any more.

CALLIOPE: something SO dramatic, so hyper-relevant, that it becomes ontologically impossible for anyone to ignore it.

CALLIOPE: for that, we need an individUal of sUfficient narrative cloUt, so to speak.

CALLIOPE: and to liberate her, who better than the embodiment of the aspect of freedom itself?

So, the plan is literally for Vriska to be such a Huge 8itch that the black hole itself gets sick of her and yeets Earth C out of its own event horizon to freedom.

This is actually a great plan. 

And that’s Hamsteak. This definitely feels like a bit of a reaction to complaints about HS2, but hey, I dig it, I guess? Definite improvement over the last chapter.

[themadlostgirl]

In Your Charge

*This one was fun to write! Felix fluff is always nice!*

Prompt: Felix has a crush on the new girl but she’s always surrounded by a group of mean girls. That all changes when Peter puts Felix in charge of her. Fluff ensues.

Requested by: Anon

Warnings: language

~~~

This new girl was beginning to be a problem. Felix was never particularly close to any of the Lost Girls on the island. They were fine but he kept his distance from them most of the time. It was also made easy since the girls seemed to avoid him. Whether they were scared of him or just didn’t like him he didn’t really care.

Then the new girl came. She dropped into Neverland with a sharp smile and even sharper tongue. She was a quick thinker and light on her feet. Felix had taken notice immediately.

It started innocently enough. He’d watch her during training admiring how hard she tried even after getting knocked to the ground a hundred times. She was stubborn if nothing else. Then he was watching her at camp when she danced around the fire. It was effortless the way she moved and he was lost to the sway of her hips and the wide smile that adorned her face as she spun around the fire. He was lost to her completely.

Now relationships between the Lost Girls and Lost Boys was nothing new. They would get together and break up and get back together all the time. Out of all the Lost Boys though Felix was never one that the girls approached. At first he hadn’t minded since, again, he hadn’t really cared about them one way or another. Then Y/N came along.

Before he had always been too nervous to approach her but when he did work up the courage he was blocked by the girls surrounding her. He wasn’t naive to what those girls said about him either.

“He’s such a beanpole!”

“That scar on his face is so gross.”

“He’s always so grumpy. It’s actually kinda freaky.”

“Doesn’t he ever smile?”

“He’s probably sad because he knows he’s not as cute as any of the other boys.”

“No one is ever gonna want to be with him.”

Who were these girls to say such things about him? If there was any saving grace it was that Y/N stood up for him as best she could. She’d tell the girls to shut up and stop being so mean.

“Have any of you even talked to him?” She would shoot at them. “You don’t even know him.”

It gave Felix hope when he heard her defending him.

“Another day admiring the view, Felix?” Pan stood next to him. Y/N was sitting in a circle along with a bunch of the girls. “You do know you can go talk to her, right?”

“I can’t get close enough.” Felix scoffed, “Those girls are like attack dogs. They won’t even let me near her.”

“I think I have an idea around that.” Pan smiled in that way that let Felix know he was plotting something.

~~~

I sat with my friends in the middle of the camp. Ever since I landed in Neverland the Lost Girls had adopted me as one of their own. They were nice and fun to be around but they were so unnecessarily mean to the boys. Well...one boy.

Felix.

Oh Felix…

I had no idea why the girls were so against him. He was a tall, lean, blonde with bright eyes and a sexy scar running down his face that made him look dangerous and mysterious. Not to mention that he was also one of the best fighters on the island and Pan’s second in command.

She hated when the girls made fun of him. It was almost like a game to them. We would be talking about something else entirely but the second they saw Felix come within earshot the conversation would pivot to rag on him.

At first I didn’t know what to say or do about it. I didn’t know Felix. I wanted to but I was too scared to go talk to him. One thing the girls got right was that he was almost always scowling by himself which made him hard to want to approach. So I stayed silent.

Then came the day where I spotted Felix out by himself. I had gone off on my own for some quiet time and found Felix relaxing in the shade of a tree with a small serene smile on his face. He was drumming out a little tune on his thigh with his fingers. I stood for a moment mesmerized.

Everything about him drew me in. But it was that one moment of piece that truly cemented the growing feelings I had. I had a crush on Felix. After that I would tell the girls to shut up when they started ragging on Felix but it never stopped them for long.

I was trying to plot a way to get Felix alone so I could talk to him when Pan called me over away from the girls. Everyone went silent assuming that I must be in trouble. I can’t understand how though since I hadn’t even been here a month. “Walk with me,” he ushered me away from the camp, “You too, Felix.” Pan called over his shoulder.

Why was he bringing Felix? He was his second in command so it shouldn’t have been too shocking. Maybe this is a good thing. If after Pan is done with me I can talk to Felix before we go back to camp.

“This should be far enough.” Pan stopped and addressed the Lost Boy and Girl in front of him.

“Am I in trouble?”

“No, new girl. You’re not in trouble.” Pan assured her, “But I have to say that I am concerned. You have been here a month and you still cannot defend yourself. You struggle in training and cannot beat even our easiest of combatants.”

“I know. Fighting is something I’m not used to but I have been trying my best to improve.” I said.

It was embarrassing really how badly I just didn’t get fighting. I kept getting up but it didn’t stop the fact that it took no effort on my partner’s end to take me back down again. It’s part of the reason I was always with the girls. They were better at defending themselves so if we ever ran across pirates or wild animals in the jungle then they could fight them and I could keep safe in the huddle. It was embarrassing but necessary until I got better.

“I understand but I need you to progress faster. Which is why Felix is here.” Pan motioned him closer, “Felix is the strongest and best fighter on the island, second to me of course. From now on he is in charge of your training and will be your escort around the island.”

“What?” Felix and I said at the same time.

“Pan,” Felix took him aside, “This is your grand idea? Are you insane?”

“Shut up and go with it.” Pan told him. They turned back towards me. “I assume that this won’t be a problem for you two.”

“No. Not at all. I just don’t want Felix to have to waste his time following me around. I have the girls and they work just as well…” What am I saying? This is what I wanted! Someone stop my stupid mouth from spouting this nonsense!

“Those girls coddle you.” Pan said, “They’re making you soft. You will stick with Felix for the foreseeable future. It’s not like he has much else to do anyway.”

“Pan…” Felix stressed.

“Have fun you two. Do not leave her side, Felix.” Pan pointed at them and then left leaving the two of them alone.

“I’m sorry,” I said automatically, “I bet you wish you didn’t have to get saddled with me, huh?”

“Oh no,” Felix rubbed the back of his neck, “I don’t mind.”

“At least this’ll give us a chance to get to know one another better. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten the chance to really talk to you.”

Felix’s features softened. “Nor I you.” He looked away, “Since you’re in my charge now how about we go for a walk? I can give you some pointers I know the girls probably hadn’t told you.”

“Sure, that sounds nice.” I smiled. This was almost too good to be true!

We spent the rest of the afternoon walking aimlessly around the island. Felix gave me a lot of advice about fighting and little things to help improve my form. He promised that we would go over them more in depth tomorrow at training. Soon the conversation turned into more casual things. Personal things. We talked about where we were from before Neverland and what things we liked. He told me funny stories and adventures the Lost Boys had gone on before they started recruiting girls on the island.

I didn’t even notice it was getting dark until Felix started searching for a good enough stick to make a torch. There wasn’t a lot of vicious animals on Neverland but still it was unwise to wander about in the jungle without any light. I couldn’t really see anything in the dark but Felix navigated the jungle like it was perfectly lit. I suppose that must come from years of living here. To make sure I didn’t get lost he took to holding my hand. I tried not to read too much into it but after spending all day getting to know one another I couldn’t help the giddy excitement that bubbled up inside of me.

Felix had just lit a torch when we heard something moving in the jungle. Felix scanned the dark shadows of the trees. “Stay close,” Felix whispered, his grip on my hand tightening, “Something’s out there.”

“Okay,” I followed him as we started moving back towards camp. Every so often Felix would stop and listen, scanning the darkness for any sign of movement.

“Don’t be alarmed,” Felix whispered as they walked, “But someone is following us.”

“What do we do?” I whispered back.

“I’m going to put out the torch. You keep ahold of me and do not let go. We’re gonna make a run for it.”

“Are sure that’s safe?”

“Safer than if we get surrounded pirates. You can’t fight and while I can hold my own I don’t want to wander into an ambush.” He reaffirmed his grip on my hand. “Ready?”

“Yes.” I took a deep breath. Felix extinguished the torch and then we were running. I was stumbling trying to keep up with his long strides. More than once I tripped over roots and rocks I couldn’t see. Felix kept me upright. I could hear who was chasing us now. Their footfalls crunching quickly after us. It sounded like they were on all sides.

My lungs burned and my legs ached but we kept running. My foot caught another root and this time my hand was ripped from Felix’s as I went down. “Y/N!” Felix ran back to collect me.

I felt a pair of hands haul me up. The people chasing us were right on top of us now.  I could hear them surrounding us. “I’m sorry,” I said as I tried to catch my breath, “I tried to keep up.”

“It’s okay,” Felix shoved me behind him, “At the first opening you make a break for it, okay?”

“But--”

“No arguing!”

Our pursuers closed in. I huddled closer into Felix. Suddenly there was light all around us and the sound of laughter. It wasn’t the raucous laughter of pirates though. I looked up and saw the girls holding torches and their stomachs as they doubled over with laughter.

“Girls!” I shouted at them, “What the hell?! You scared us! We thought you were pirates!”

“Oh calm down,” One of the girls waved it off, “It was just a bit of fun. After Pan disappeared with you earlier and you didn’t come back we went out looking for you. Imagine our surprise when we saw that you got saddled with Felix. You poor thing, come with us. We’ll get you back to camp.”

“Now hang on--” I started but Felix silenced me.

“She’s not your concern anymore.” Felix told them. “She was put under my charge. You can head back by yourselves.”

“Your charge?” the girls started whispering amongst themselves. “Oh dear, Y/N, is this a punishment? Did Pan stick you with him as a lesson or something?”

“No. He’s meant to be helping me.” Y/N said, “I’m not being punished at all. Also, I don’t know what your problem is with Felix but he is incredibly strong and fierce and even kind. He is the best damn fighter on this island and does not deserve the constant disrespect you jerks hurl at him!”

“Doesn’t change the fact that he’s not that nice to look at.” One of the girls mumbled.

“Shut up, Maria! Just because your boyfriend looks like a baked potato doesn’t mean you can go around insulting Felix. What’s wrong with him? Is he too tall? Too muscular? Too handsome? Is the scar on his face not simultaneously attractive and cool? What’s your problem?” I shouted at them, “So bugger off and leave us alone!”

“Oh my god,” the girls muttered, “You like him. Look at how red their faces are.”

“Piss off!” Felix yelled at them. The girls finally scattered leaving Felix and I alone again.

“I’m sorry about them. I really don’t understand why they act like that around you. They’re so mean for no reason.”

“It’s fine.” Felix shrugged. “Not like they matter anyway.”

“Right.” I nodded. Felix peered down at me. We had come to a break in the trees and I could faintly make out his face in the moonlight. “Did you...did you mean what you said? About me?”

“Oh…” My face started burning anew, “I mean, yeah. You’re Pan’s second in command after all. Everyone else knows how good a fighter you are and--”

“You think I’m handsome?” He grinned slightly and my stomach flipped. That really wasn’t fair. He towered over me, encasing me completely in his presence.

“Yes…” I mumbled.

“Well that certainly makes this a lot easier.” He grabbed my hand again. “I guess this means you don’t mind me following you around as your kinda bodyguard, huh?”

“Not at all. I was actually rather pleased when Pan assigned you to me. I’ve been trying to get a moment alone to talk to you for a while now.”

“What a coincidence, so have I. So…” He trailed off.

“So what?” I asked.

“So I guess this makes me your bodyguard, teacher and your boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?!” My heart started hammering in my chest.

“Yeah, isn’t that what you wanted?”

“No! Wait--I didn’t mean no as in ‘no’ I mean it like yes. Yes I would very much like that. I would like for you to be my...oh god I can’t talk right.” I groaned.

Felix chuckled softly and pulled me closer. He planted a small kiss on my cheek. “Come on, let’s get back to camp.”

“Okay,” I couldn’t help the huge smile that spread across my face.

We strolled back into camp some time later. Word must have spread about Felix being put in charge of my protection and training cause everyone was watching us. The whispers and murmurs grew even louder when they noticed us holding hands. Their wide, disbelieving eyes following us as we sat down near the fire. Felix put an arm around me that was as sweet as it was possessive.

Pan spotted us across the way and smirked. I would need to make sure to thank him for this later.

[faulty-writes]

Soulmate Sensations

Warning: A few swears, physical violence, blood mention, and 18+ Fem! (Some sexual acts) No minors please. 

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

This is a prompt for Discord group: MHA & Readers 

[Part Two, Part Three] 

(In this Soulmate AU you are a lucky third-year student in the support course. Yes, unfortunately, you couldn’t quite reach your goal to become a Pro Hero. But even so, the last thing you suspected was for a villain to be your Soulmate but looking upon Dabi, it would explain those sensations you’ve been feeling throughout your life.)

soul mate/ˈsōl ˌmāt/ 

noun:

a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.

In this day and age, you would think quirks to be the most unique aspect of human society, but depending on the person, you might find a disagreement. There was yet another unique feature beyond that of quirks and it was soulmates. You had always heard the stories, the way two souls would find each other. Some were blessed enough with a timer, others with something as simple as a matching tattoo. But you... you were a tad bit different. 

Sensation. The ability to feel your soulmate’s pain. At first, you didn’t understand it. But piece by piece, the puzzle formed. It had all started, however, when you were small. You were playing in the backyard, it was a sunny day and flowers were poking out from the ground. You were happy, giggling as you run through the grass. Not a damned care in the world until you let out a cry, crashing to the ground. “y/n are you alright!?” your mother shouted as she ran to your side, her comforting arms scooping you up.

But you couldn’t respond, your body racked with intense burning. Everything from your face, to your chest, down the length of your arms and the tips of your fingers. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced like your very flesh was set on fire and beginning to melt. You couldn’t even breathe, your face turning blue as your mother cradled you closer. Shaking with fear, she cried out. “Help! Someone help my child!” you couldn’t remember much after that, apart from the few tears that rolled down your cheek before the world turned black.

In the beginning, it was scary. The pain would come and you’d scream out before eventually collapsing. But as you grew older, the pain, the burning felt more controlled. It would course through the top of your arms and to the tips of your fingers where it felt most intense. But you found yourself not only getting used to the feeling but looking forward to it. Of course, you had to keep that fact well hidden, especially within the walls of U.A. High. You always feared that people wouldn’t understand, despite the fact you had come to know your friends and teachers to be trustworthy.  

Though love and romance were permitted between students as a member of the Support Course you typically didn’t have time for it. It was your job to create gadgets, weapons, and hero attire that would improve the function and capability of a hero’s quirk. Really, there was no time for daydreaming and despite the fact, the burning would come even when you were in the Development Studio. Hero work was your life.  

Though most looked down on the Support Course students, having the belief that they did nothing but stay on the sidelines. Oh no, that was not true. You were currently in your third year, 18 years old and frankly, had become well known to a few select agencies and a handful of Pro Hero’s had even reached out to you with offers of becoming a valuable sidekick. Though you politely declined, especially now that you were volunteering for more missions and focusing on schoolwork in general. 

Apparently, Aizawa had the idea that Support Course students needed to learn certain combat skills and experience real missions alongside the Hero Course students in order to better their own experience and better understand just how important it was to continue their craft. Of course, you already had a passion for what you did, it wasn’t Hatsume level but it was up there. So it was a little unnecessary that Aizawa thought you had to relearn your love for the craft. 

Still, you went along with it. Though you weren't as brave as the heroes when it came to missions and yet when you woke up this morning, you felt a little more excited than usual. Today was the start of one of the bigger missions you had signed up for even if Aizawa was a little weary of you volunteering for it at first. You had managed to convince him after all the last couple missions only landed you in the hospital for a couple days and it was just a few broken bones and skin tears. 

The mission itself was very clear, The League of Villains was planning to intercept a local drug distributor that was in possible connection with the rumored quirk enhancing drugs. It was you, Midoriya, Togata, Ochako, and Amajiki that were put in charge of containing the area and halting any possible transactions. However, you should have known something was off when that burning came. Coursing through your veins, through your bones, to your very core. 

Yet, you had decided to play it off, hoping your fellow teammates didn’t notice the way you were clenching your fists. But it was highly unlikely they’d catch on considering how well you managed to hide your dilemma. You were almost grateful that your position was to play the part of the lookout and only engage when your fellow heroes truly needed it. That is if you saw one of them get hurt. Perhaps fall or get knocked unconscious  

You knew the basics of how to defend yourself and others. But you had enough confidence in your teammates to know they could handle themselves, after all, they were the strongest heroes you knew. Especially Deku, considering the strength and courage he always showed. Not only that but the encouragement he gave others was something you admired. You tried to keep his influence in mind as the mission began, at first it was slow. 

The fellow heroes had taken their positions, surrounding the area and ensuring no means of possible escape if things went haywire. With your communicator nestled in your ear, you relayed what you witnessed from your position. Despite the fact that hours had passed before you actually saw something important. Headlights illuminated the ground and it only took a few moments to see a large truck come into view. 

“y/n can you see who's in the truck?” Deku’s voice sounded in your ear and you narrowed your eyes. “It appears to be four subjects, all of them male,” you replied before something caught your eye, your fingers burned just before you noticed it. One of the males produced what looked like a blue flame, it crackled in the palm of his hand. Your heart raced a moment as you glanced down at your own palm, there was a faint warmth radiating from it along with the pain. 

Your breath hitched, was he ...no, no, no. This was a coincidence! That’s all, just a coincidence. A lot of people had fire quirks but ...your fingers curled into your palm which was still warm. “...y/n...y/n!” you snapped out of your thoughts, your head whipped back up and you noticed sparks of ember in the air. “What happened!?” you cried out, standing from your position on the rooftop. “Now isn’t the time to get distracted y/n!” came Togata’s firm voice but you were too focused on the industrial building that was now set ablaze. 

You almost felt embarrassed, were you so distracted by your own thoughts you became absent to the world? You continued to watch in awe as the building burnt down, the blue tint was almost memorizing and despite your best intentions as a hero. You couldn’t help but feel an almost blissful emotion take over, a sort of happiness. Wait, what? You groaned and clenched your fists, hitting the sides of your head. 

Snap out of it! You clenched your jaw as pain coursed through your arms. Focus on the mission! You took a deep breath, you needed to remain calm. That’s how a mission was complete. Focus your mind on nothing but the mission. You dropped your arms and leaned over the rooftop, pulling your goggles down. Hatsume offered to make them for you and you had to admit, they worked. There were different lenses installed which were designed to help you navigate through various conditions, like dark, fog, smoke and so on. 

“y/n, do you have any pin on the villain locations?” came Midoriya’s voice, “Give me a second!” you replied, turning your head to scan the area. “Lemillion, you have two on your right. Deku there’s one heading straight for your location,” you warned though one was still missing. “No problem! Lemillion is on the case!” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, Togata was a trip sometimes. “Go, hero ...go.” you replied in a sarcastic manner. 

“Deku, be careful too. There’s still one missing. Ochako, Amajiki keep your eyes peeled.” you warned, ignoring the way your hands burned as your grip tightened on the metal railing of the roof. You continued searching, the smoke in the air was beginning to grow thicker. Why would the League of Villains go through so much trouble to get their hands on some quirk enhancing drugs? Well, maybe it was for the same reason the building continued to burn. Maybe it was a mere distraction to lure the heroes away from the real issue.  

You narrowed your eyes. “What are you up to ...” you whispered to yourself, it seemed another aspect of hero work was piecing together the very few clues the villains left behind. Not always an easy task. You gasped when you heard a noise and turned on your feet. Your stance was tense, your fists clenched. Ready to pounce if you needed to, however, no one was there. Your stance dropped for a moment, though a good hero should know never to let their guard down. 

“Those other heroes have you distracted.” you gasped when you heard that voice, it was low and raspy with little emotion. Your arm trembled, burning just as you saw it coming. The blue flame headed straight towards you. “Ah!” you cried out, just barely avoiding it with a cheap but effective maneuver. But even so, that didn’t mean you dodged the heat. The fireball was scorching and though it hadn’t touched you, your clothing still let off a little smoke. 

Stumbling back onto your feet, your free hand reached to grasp your arm that was just now cooling off. Your eyes set forward as a man appeared from the shadows, the first thing you noticed was his wild black hair. It was short but styled out in short spikes. The next was his eyes, even in the darkness you could see they were a deep blue. That followed down to his skin and those unusual metal like staples embedded into it, almost like they were holding his skin together. 

In addition, it looked like parts of his face, chest, arms, and hands were burned by something. It reminded you of when you were small, the feeling of your flesh burning. He seemed to notice you were daydreaming, lost in your own thoughts and his eyes drifted to your arm which you were still holding. He tilted his head back, raising an eyebrow before a wicked smile came to his face. “What’s the matter doll ...hurt your arm?” you growled in response, though he wasn’t wrong. 

Your arm did hurt, but it wasn’t from any injury. “Who are you?” you demanded with a hiss, taking a step back. However, this only seemed to amuse the stranger, the villain. That soft chuckle he gave made a shiver run down your spine. “Name’s Dabi, dollface,” he replied before bringing his hands up, palms wide open and a blue flame sparkling to life. “Shit ...” you hissed under your breath, you were getting tired of this. Maybe if you clenched your hand's tight enough you could ignore the pain. 

Either way, this wasn’t good and you had already decided it would be best to play defense, distance yourself from those flames rather than stay and continue to converse with Dabi as he called himself. “y/n status!” Suneater’s voice came through, though it was a bit hard to hear. More than likely he had joined in to help Lemillion fight off those two villains. “I’m a little busy right now!” you replied before a metal beam came out from the Hydraulic Bracers Hatsume allowed you to borrow. 

You were thankful for such a giving classmate, especially now that another ball of fire came hurtling towards you. “Ah!” you cried out as the metal beam toppled over the roof and sent you crashing towards the ground. You would have grabbed something, anything to stop yourself from getting hurt. But that would leave you vulnerable for Dabi’s continued attack and your arms were currently disabled. Feeling as though they were melting off the bone. 

“y/n, are you alright, what’s happening?” came Uravity’s voice but you had little time to respond as you crossed your arms, hitting the ground and rolling in an attempt to reduce any damage taken. Though your shoulders took most of the beating, despite the fact you had special hover pads installed in the soles of your shoes which now thinking it over, might have been a better option than attempting a suicide jump. Still, you got onto your feet quickly and looked up at the rooftop. 

There was Dabi, that ripped long-tailed jacket of his blowing along with the wind and making him look even more menacing. Though the way he was hunched over, it was similar to how you felt at the current moment. Your shoulders were still aching and pulsing with a faint pain. For a brief moment, you could have sworn those eyes of his lit up and you watched his lips move but no audible words came out. Was he talking to himself? 

Still, it was short-lived as you watched a smile come to his face. It was a little eerie to see those staples move along with those lips. “Heh, so the little kitty knows how to jump.” you couldn’t help but growl, feeling a mix of emotions. Those flames and how he looked, the burns upon his skin and the connection between his quirk and your body. A villain ...why would fate do that? Well, it didn't matter because you wouldn’t accept it. You couldn’t accept it. 

“What’s a matter ...kitty lose their tongue?” Dabi mocked as he held his arms out and your eyes widened, oh no. Your jaw clenched, your nails digging into the palm of your hands which were a little too warm for your own comfort. “Don’t you dare!” you shouted, anger booming in your voice. Dabi paused a moment before chuckling which only made you angrier. What the fuck was his problem!? “I don’t think it’s your place to tell me what to do, little hero ...” his flames went up, illuminating his wrists and hands.

It crackled with rage and you hunched over, your own arms trembling. Damn him. You knew this was bad, you needed to move. Another chuckle came as he pulled his arms back, his blue flame blowing with the wind. Move now! He smirked, obviously overjoyed to be causing this destruction and when he released that fireball, your body went frozen. Damn it! Move! Your eyes couldn’t look away as it grew closer, once more you could feel the heat that came with it. You shook your head and closed your eyes, almost like you were ready to accept your fate. 

However, much like before your Hydraulic Bracers sprang into action and forced you to move. The metal pole embedding itself into the ground and causing you to get pulled back, your shoes grazed the ground temporarily. The resulting flash from the fireball colliding with the ground made you cry out, your hands coming up to shield your eyes from the brightness. Embers sparked but you hardly paid attention to that. When you hit the ground again, your body skimmed across the dirt. Your shoulders pulsed with more pain from the harsh landing, damn it. How did other heroes make falling look so graceful?

Your knee had gotten cut and your clothes were ripped in various ways. You felt as though the wind was knocked out of you but even so, you forced your body to sit up. Shooting pain coursed through your arms making them violently shake and your legs seemed to refuse your commands. You looked back at Dabi, fear as clear as those flames in your eyes. You swallowed and began dragging your body, your fingers digging into the soft ground. The sound of Dabi’s laughter came, apparently, he found it amusing to watch you crawl for your life. 

But the smoke from the building was still going strong, thick enough for one to hide in. If you could just get there, maybe that would be enough to avoid Dabi until you found a safer location. You kept at it, crawling faster and faster. Though you felt your heart sink with fear when the sound of Dabi landing on the ground came, it was unmistakable and soon footsteps followed. “Shit ...shit ...shit!” you hissed under your breath, willing your legs to move. 

Your knee was throbbing, blood oozing from it and you could hear Dabi’s steps becoming more strained as you continued to try and move your bleeding limb. Pressing your teeth together, you somehow managed to stumble onto your feet. But you were unbalanced and pain shot through you, despite the fact you tried to take a step forward. “Come here doll ...” Dabi said though it seemed forced as if he too was trying to push through the pain you felt. 

You didn’t look back and decided to try and foolishly kick off the ground. Even if it was with your good leg, as soon as your damaged knee came forward. You yelped in pain and fell to the ground once more, your arms outstretched in front of you. So close, yet so far. You took a breath, ready to try again when you felt him grab your shirt collar. You yelped as you were pulled back, your heart racing with fear when Dabi leaned down. 

His hot breath along your ear made you shiver and coincidentally you swore you saw Dabi give the same shiver. But it seemed he was better than you at ignoring it, damn him. But what more did you expect from a villain? “So dollface,” he began, somehow making your breath hitch. Though your lungs were beginning to burn from being so close to the smoke. What the hell were you thinking? Your eyes were even beginning to water, you couldn’t hear anything but the building slowly falling apart in front of you. 

Your communicator must have fallen out when you jumped from the roof, so you couldn’t even call for help. Brilliant. Damn it. Maybe this is why heroes were truly the only ones meant for missions. You had already messed everything up. Why? What was so different about this mission, well that much was obvious and at that moment Dabi only seemed to confirm the very thing you were trying so hard to deny. 

“Seems I finally found you, but I guess it’s safe to assume what we’re both thinking. This is fucking shitty.” you felt your mouth go dry and your heart sinks in your chest, yeah ...it was a disappointment. Jesus, everyone else. Everyfuckingone else got their happy ending, got matched well with their soulmate. The one they were ideally and utterly meant for. But here you were, fate fucked you hard. What possible reason could it have for pairing you with Dabi?

You were a hero ...well close enough anyway. Besides that, a soulmate was supposed to treat you like a God or Goddess. But here was your supposed soulmate meeting and you were injured and bleeding. You felt like crying, but you refused. Willing all your strength, you swallowed and parted your lips. “Yeah ...s-so you’re responsible for all the pain I’ve been feeling ...the burning. All that hurt. I-It was you.” Dabi almost seemed amused, you could already picture that smirk on his wicked face. 

“Yeah, it wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies for me either, doll.” he released his grip on your shirt causing you to jolt forward, palms pressing against the ground again. “That’s the problem with all you goddamn heroes.” Dabi began and part of you wanted to interject, but another wanted to see what else he had to say. “You’re so high on your pedestals that you always blame others for your own problems, do you think that’s brave? Frankly, I think it’s plain stupidity.” 

He shook his head and continued, “Even so, I can at least point the finger at you for my bones aching and my body feeling like it’s been bruised. As if I need that fucking baggage.” he finished before wrapping his fingers around your neck. Your hands immediately went up, scratching at his wrist. “L-Let go!” you cried out, but Dabi only tightened his grip making it harder for you to breathe. You felt utterly hopeless, you weren’t a hero like Midoriya, you weren’t brave like Togata, you couldn’t find inner-courage like Amajiki. 

What the hell could you find besides failure? You squeezed your eyes shut, continuing to struggle against Dabi’s grip. “Baby doll, you better quit that,” he replied and you gasped when you felt that quick dose of fire against your skin. It was only for a moment, but even so, the heat alone was enough to make you freeze. More than likely, your neck would have burns on it. But that was the furthest thing from your mind, your breathing halted and you kept silent which seemed to please Dabi. 

“Heh, maybe you are a good little hero when it comes to taking orders.” he chuckled and you wanted to lash out at him, but you knew you couldn’t possibly do anything to him. Even if you tried, he had you at checkmate. “Now ...” Dabi grinned and leaned over, releasing your neck. “Fuck ...” you hissed as the hot air hit the burns Dabi had created. You clenched your jaw, that bastard. How the fuck would you explain this?

“You better enjoy this ...” Dabi spoke before pressing a kiss to your neck. His lips felt wet and crusty against your skin and it made you cringe. But once again you were reminded that you couldn’t do anything, even if you tried to escape those flames of his would burn you to a crisp. “Frankly, you’ve made my already fucked up life worse. If that’s even possible, so I think it’s about time I got some pleasure out of you.” his words made your stomach twist, you felt like you could vomit at the picture he painted. 

Why the hell would you ever ...EVER do anything he wanted? “Ah ...stop it!” you cried out when those lips pressed against your neck again, peppering kisses along the skin between the crook of your neck and jaw. It burned, but at the same time, you could feel tingles beginning to spread. A pant or two leaving your lips. “Mm, do you really want me to, doll? Let’s feel something good for once ...” Dabi insisted as he continued his assault and damn it all. You found yourself beginning to give in, was this a part of it? 

For those that were truly mix-matched, for the souls that seemed opposite of each other, for the love predestined between two individuals. Did their touch, their lips, their essence make a difference? Make the truth be known that they were the only for you? Did they truly have your mind, body, and soul from the beginning? Your thoughts were jumbled as you leaned your head back, feeling those lovebites Dabi created throb along the length of your burnt neck. 

You hated to admit, but you were beginning to feel aroused. Was this part of Dabi’s plan? Was he somehow excited about this? “Ah!” you cried out when those teeth sank harder into your neck as if you didn’t feel enough pain. You squirmed, Dabi’s saliva was making your tender skin burn like hell. But, you couldn’t help but shift your legs. Despite the pain and humiliation, you felt something gathering moist. 

You knew it wasn’t your own feeling, you couldn’t ...you wouldn’t get high off an assault like this, “Dabi ...” his name left your mouth in a soft whimper and you gasped when those large hands wrapped around your waist, taking upon themselves to travel towards your chest. “Mm, you feel it don’t you? Despite everything, this soulmate bullshit. I know there’s no escape from this tie, so I might as well have fun with fucking around.” with that, he cupped your breasts. Squeezing them harshly which made you cry out again. 

You felt your breathing grow heavy as Dabi massaged them, pinching your hardened nipples that were straining against the fabric of your shirt. “You might be more fun than I thought, doll.” he chuckled in your ear, though unlike before you found the sound endearing. His hands went back around your waist and you could feel his own legs spreading. Gasping as you were pulled back, your legs felt like jello but that dulling pain of your knee could still be felt. Guess that was a good thing. 

Dabi positioned you between his legs, allowing your back to rest against his chest and allowing him to have full access to you. He grinned and resumed his dirty work. He loomed over you, laying his head on your shoulder and snaking one hand up your shirt. You gasped as you felt his fingers graze over your bra before pulling it down. “W-What are you -ah!” you cried out once again as he cupped your breast, teasing your nipple. Pinching the sensitive nub between his thumb and index finger. 

His other hand reached further down, brushing against the Hydraulic Bracer you had. A minor annoyance, but not one that interfered with Dabi’s goal. He only paused briefly before slipping his fingers underneath your waistband. He chuckled as he felt the moist fabric of your underwear, “The big bad villain has such an influence over the little hero. How fun.” you could only whimper in response, you were a hero, yes but at the current moment, you were nothing short of a hormone-filled mess. 

You squirmed as his finger ran along the slit of your underwear, teasingly circling your clit. “Ah ...Dabi please ...” you cried out, which made him smirk. “Glad you’re enjoying this, feels good to be touched like this by your soulmate hm? Or better yet, do you just enjoy being touched by a filthy villain?” you shook your head, yes every fiber of your being was screaming that Dabi was a villain but this connection. Could you truly fight it? 

You took a breath, though it was strained. “I ...t-the ...c-connection do you fee-” your words came to a halt when you felt Dabi’s warm fingers brush against your dripping slit. When did he snake underneath your underwear? Well, it didn’t matter, you could feel his fingers collect your slick before pressing hard against your throbbing clit. You squirmed and once again cried out, “Dabi!” your voice echoed through the air and just before you felt his finger dip into your folds. 

“y/n!” Midoriya cried out and your head whipped up, seeing the hero himself soaring right above you. That familiar green and yellow aura surrounding him and he looked a little beaten as per usual. But the look in his eyes was fierce and his lips were turned up in a snarl. “Get away from them!” Midoriya warned as he reeled his fist back, more than likely for his famous smash move. Though nowadays he used his legs more. 

“Deku wait!” you cried out, holding your hand out but it was clear there was no stopping what the young hero was going to do. You gasped a moment later when you felt something slimy wrap around your waist, looking down you saw it was one of Amajiki’s tentacles. “Ah no!” your hand was still outstretched, as if you were planning to grab something, anything to prevent being ripped away from Dabi. 

But everything happened too fast, one moment you were being pulled through the air, the next Amajiki’s arms were around you, then you were running through the forest. You could hear the impact of Midoriya’s punch and the trees shook as Amajiki continued to run with you cradled in his arms. You took a breath and reached up, grasping onto Amajiki’s cloak. “No! Please Amajiki, S-Suneater you have to turn around!” you begged you didn’t feel any pain so it was likely that Dabi had moved out of the way in time. 

But still, you felt your heartbreak in your chest and Amajiki was not going to give in to your request. “Y-You’re injured ...w-we need you to go uh ...we n-need to get you help ...” he insisted and you promptly beat his chest with your fist. “No! I need to see Dabi!” you cried in response and watched Amajiki look at you with a raised eyebrow. “D-Did you hit your head y/n? Y-You’re pretty bruised up ...” which was true, you had a banged-up knee, various bruises across your body and face. 

A few visible burns scattered across your skin and your clothes in addition to being ripped were covered in dirt, blood, and soot. Not exactly the ideal image of well-being. Still, you struggled in his arms, your hand outstretched again and you silently prayed to feel pain. The burning flesh, anything to know Dabi was okay, God ...were you going crazy? You clenched your jaw again, which dully throbbed with pain and tears slowly streamed down your face. Were you going to see him again? 

The mission was called a failure, though the heroes had fought bravely. The villains had gotten away with the quirk enhancing pills and you were scolded at for being so careless, however, you were the only one who ended up with severe injuries. Aizawa had visited you in the hospital, though it was only to further scold you and put you on probation. You were not allowed to volunteer for missions until further notice, though you were still permitted to continue your support course work. 

Though what could gadgets and hero attire do for you now? You felt isolated and the only thing you could think about was Dabi. Laying in your hospital bed, you stared at your hands. Your fingers twitched but you couldn’t feel Dabi anymore. Not his flames, not his pain. Nothing. But you secretly hoped he could feel the hole in your chest, despite it being a short meeting and despite what had happened. The way he injured you and then pleasured you. 

Your heart called out to him and most would probably laugh if they found out that you longed to be with a villain. But those were probably the same people that had gotten lucky with their soulmate, no villains attached. “Damn it ...” you sighed and leaned over, running your hands through your hair. These thoughts were beginning to frustrate you and you were afraid at this rate you’d end up doing something you’d regret.

Then again, would the hero world really miss you if you decided to take a break? You were a little angry that Aizawa decided to give you a strict punishment instead of inquiring if you were truly okay or about the details of what happened. But even so, you would prefer to keep it a secret. You sighed and sat up in your bed. Allowing your feet to dangle over the side before you stood up and walked to the window. 

Pulling the curtain back, you glanced out at the city. Down below people were walking, some chatting with their friends, some walking with their children. But what stood out the most to you were those couples who were holding hands, laughing together. Another sigh left your lips as you focused your eyes up. Staring at your own reflection in the glass, you looked tired. Bandages surrounded your neck and knee. The rest of the minor injuries had gauze pads held in place by medical tape. 

You pressed one hand against the glass, fingers spread and you noticed that there were burn scars there too. Must have happened when you grabbed at Dabi’s wrist. You felt your heart sink again, did you miss Dabi? That sad truth was, yes you did. Your hand curled into a fist and you glanced down. A determined look flashing in your eyes, “I have to find him again ...” you resumed watching the people below, just going about their lives. 

It might be a challenge and frankly, you didn't know where to start. All you knew about Dabi was ...his name, his association with the League of Villains and that you two were soulmates. Eventually, you would have to cross paths again but you could really just sit and wait? At the moment it looked like you had no choice, U.A. kept a strict eye on their students. But one way or another, you had already decided what you wanted and damned be anyone that dares get in your way.