#not that it was forgettable it’s just I felt so much second hand embarrassment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blooblooded · 2 years

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Yancey's Plans

LEE

“You should probably do something about your glasses,” Yancey told him dismissively and out of nowhere one afternoon. “It’s starting to distract me.”

Lee rolled over. He wasn’t wearing any clothes and already felt self conscious about the way he looked. There wasn’t anything special about him, it was why he took so much care in the way he dressed. His hair was mousy brown and his eyes were bad. His teeth were crooked. His body was OK but his stomach was too soft. “What’s wrong with my glasses?” he asked.

Yancey was already at his desk, going through his homework. He was 26 and in his second year of Grad School, on the chemistry track, so he always had a lot of work to do. Lee was only a Junior in college but he was behind, he had started two years late. “I don’t understand why you don’t just get the surgery to get your eyes fixed. You could always make yourself better.”

“I don’t need them all the time.” He only wore them to see things up close or to read. Most of the time he kept them folded up in his front pocket. It was also embarrassing, they were broken and he had to glue them back together all the time. “And uh, that surgery costs thousands of dollars that I don’t have.”

He must have said something wrong because Yancey started ignoring him. It wasn’t like he was all that good looking either. Yancey Gallo had a bland, forgettable face, he was pale, his black eyes always looked dead. He didn’t understand fashion and wore the same khaki trousers and white button ups every day. He cut his own hair, he didn’t moisturize. It was like he didn’t care about what he looked like at all.

Still, all Lee wanted was for him to pay attention to him and tell him he was doing a good job. He had never met anyone so smart. He felt small and stupid in comparison. They had met when he was 17 and had just been released from the Youth Detention Center and immediately he had been transfixed. Obsessed. Yancey would talk to him all the time and it had excited him, Lee would feel a little thrill every time he sent him nudes while he was still living at his foster parents’ house. He was everything Lee wasn’t. He was smart and likable. He did well in school without even trying. He was so driven and never took any breaks. There was something special about him, he acted like he didn’t care about rules or what was right or wrong. He only cared about what was in front of him.

It was time to get work done. Lee looked around for his clothes. When he found his shirt, he saw that there was blood on the collar. He put a hand up to his neck and winced. Yancey had bitten him. He always did that. He liked to leave marks and there was something else too, he liked to make him bleed and then lick up the blood. Oh well. At least that was better than when he told Lee to pretend like he was dead and just lie there.

He pulled on his clothes and pushed back his hair. It took him a long time to cuff his pants at the ankles in just the right way. Maybe Yancey wanted him to leave. If he started making fun of him, that was usually a sign to leave.

“Are we having a UPLF meeting tonight?” He asked. The meetings were what got him through the monotonous weeks and crushing poverty. They gave him hope for a better life, a life where he didn’t have to be poor and looked down on. The rich people, the Artificials of the intelligentsia class looked at Lee like he was trash. Even his appearance marked him as different from them. They lived their comfortable, happy lives while people like him slaved working 3 jobs just to get by. Only radical action could change Eden, and the United People’s Liberation Front made him believe that could happen.

Soon all of them would be sorry.

Yancey typed on his tablet and didn’t look up. “You and Omo have the meeting covered. I have to go to my internship at the Capitol.”

He wanted him to be proud of him. Just one little word of praise would be enough. “Kip Nguyen’s still attending the meetings. He’s really getting involved. Reads Marx and everything.”

“The Police Commissioner’s kid?” Yancey scoffed. “You get the access codes to the School District yet, buddy?”

“I’m working on it. I don’t want to scare him off.” In reality, part of Lee liked slowly working on Kip and breaking down his defenses. Kip trusted him. He didn’t want to hurt him, he didn’t want to push him too far. Kip was…well, he was sensitive. If he realized that he was only using him to get the access codes it would obliterate his self-esteem. “He’ll give them to me.”

Then Yancey did look up. He raised his eyebrows. “So why’s it taking so long? We need those codes by the time Malena gives his speech in April. What are you fucking around for? Don’t you have your creepy little psychic Ability that forces people to want to like you?”

Lee froze. Was he angry at him? He was doing everything that he asked. Last week he and Brently had stolen a couple hundred pounds of fertilizer in order to start assembling the bombs. He put his own life in danger. “I’m working on it,” he said again, lamely.

“Maybe you should work harder. Are you fucking him yet? Usually teenagers do whatever you want if you take their virginity.”

It wasn’t that Lee didn’t want that. He liked Kip. Kip was bright and funny, he liked the way he smiled and laughed. Hugging him felt good, he always squeezed as tight as he could. He would probably be good in bed too, considering how thoughtful and attentive he was. He definitely wouldn’t bite him. It would be nice to be on top for once, between Yancey and Ajax Gutierrez, it had been a while since he had done that. But truth be told, Lee was a little scared of what might happen if he took it any further. Kip’s mean little friend Marty had it out for him, and if Marty ever found out that he was banging an 18 year old– a perfectly legal 18 year old– he would undoubtedly inform the Police Commissioner.

So that was the thing. As he broke down Kip’s defenses, he had to break down Marty’s too. That was easier to do. Marty was already isolated.

Lee laughed awkwardly to lighten the mood. “Is that what you were thinking when you first slept with me?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” Yancey’s face was blank.

There was no way of telling if he was being sarcastic or not.

He didn’t have class that afternoon, and the UPLF meeting wasn’t until 5:00, so Lee pulled out his tablet and started to work on his own homework. A paper on ethics was due 3 days from then. He hadn’t even started. Between his job at the student paper, his responsibilities in the UPLF, and his socialization with Kip Nguyen and his friends, his academic life was falling by the wayside.

At this point was he even going to graduate? Did it matter? If they set the bombs and changed the very fabric of society in April, then why would a college degree even matter?

After 30 minutes, Yancey went into the kitchen to fix himself something to eat. It smelled good, like frying meat. Lee hadn’t realized how hungry he was. Usually he suppressed it by drinking coffee or vaping.

It was too much to ask for that he shared. Yancey never shared.

He came back with a plate of what looked like roasted pork and set it down at the desk he was working at. The way Yancey ate was like a man who was starving. It seemed like he was always hungry.

“How do you even afford that?” asked Lee. He could not remember the last time he had eaten real meat. Prosperity Inc was the only distributor of animal products in Eden, and their prices were so exorbitant that the working poor were unable to buy it. Another unfairness.

“It’s human flesh,” said Yancey with his mouth full. “There’s a woman’s body in my deep freezer.”

Lee laughed. He liked his dry, sarcastic sense of humor. Just as long as he wasn’t making fun of him. “Yeah? Is that why you’re always biting me? Tasting me before you eat me?” It seemed like a funny joke. He wanted him to laugh. You like me, you like me. You think I’m really funny.

It never worked.

Yancey’s dead black eyes slid over him. He swallowed. “Scared meat ruins the taste. You’re too thin to even bother.” For a moment he just sat there with his fork and knife in his hands. A glimmer passed across him in the confusing way it sometimes did. “You wanna try it?”

Were they playing a game now or something? Truth be told, Lee did not fully understand Yancey. He could be weird sometimes. If they were playing a game, joking or roleplaying or something, it meant that he wanted him to stay. Sometimes he could be so mean and abrupt. It shouldn’t matter, it wasn’t like they were dating or something. When they first met, it had seemed like Yancey really liked him and was interested in teaching him. They used to spend a lot of time together. Now he was dismissive and made fun of him. They spent less time together, less than even friends would. He only wanted him around to discuss the UPLF’s plans to bomb the bourgouisie or to do weird stuff during sex.

Well, if Yancey was playing a game, Lee wanted to play too. And he was hungry. He pulled himself off the bed and crossed to the desk. When he reached for the fork, Yancey curled his lip like he was a dog who had done something embarrassing. Instead of just handing him the silverware like a normal person, he cut a piece of meat himself and lifted the fork to Lee’s mouth.

Why was he so weird? Lee ate it anyway. It had been a long time since he had eaten real meat. Fucking Prospases, they were starving Eden. He hated them. Even looking at Rome made him want to bully him, but Marty really got angry whenever he went near the yellow-eyed freak. The meat Yancey fed him tasted good even though it had been cooked hastily and slightly burned. He could not remember the taste of pork.

“You like it?”

Play along. You like me, you like me. Lee wiped his hand over his mouth on the off chance that any grease had gotten into his carefully groomed beard. “Pretty good. Uh, so what cut of meat is it?” Saying that out loud made him realize he didn’t like playing this game. It wasn’t sexy, it sounded stupid.

“It’s from the rump. Looks like you do like eating ass after all, huh bud?”

Ouch. Why did he have to be such a prick sometimes? It was only funny when it was directed at someone who was not him. Lee pulled out his phone.

Yancey continued his meal. He had no table manners and the way he held his fork was the way that someone who is unaccustomed to using one does. “Do you wanna hear a story about eating people?”

No matter what he said, he was going to tell him anyway. Yancey was full of weird stories. Lee sent a couple smiley face emojis to Kip and asked him how his day was going. Kip replied immediately. He had probably been waiting all day. “Sure.”

“The rate of cannibalism increases in nutritionally poor environments. A way of ensuring survival and decreasing a population. Any animal will do it.” Yancey extended a bite of meat on the fork again. Lee took it. A bubble of hard fat burst between his teeth. “Once there was a place where hundreds of people were trapped in the darkness. There was nothing to eat other than squirming salamanders and roots. What do you think happened to those desperate, starving people?”

“They ate each other.” Was this some kinky new thing he was into? Lee hoped that it wouldn’t lead to more biting. He liked looking a certain way and didn’t like having to cover up the marks.

“Right. The problem with that is that there was never enough. A body weighs what, 150 pounds? There could never be enough. Hunger makes people do crazy things. Sometimes they would cut off parts of their own bodies and eat their own flesh. There was a monster that lived in the darkness that looked like a man but was empty on the inside. Something that came from beyond the stars used to live inside of it. It would drag people away and open up their bellies with its teeth. They worshiped it as a god anyways. They never tried to leave and they never did anything to fight back.”

Maybe Yancey was the one who should be the writer.

“One day a boy got so hungry that he decided that he would try to kill and eat the monster. He tried to crush its head with a rock. It cut his throat with its claws and left him to die. But the boy didn’t die. He got older and hungrier and every day he thought about killing the monster. He did everything he could to make himself better, and when the opportunity to leave came, he took it. But he never forgot the taste of flesh.”

“Sounds like the people were the monsters too,” commented Lee. Kip sent him a picture of himself licking a vanilla ice cream cone. Some of it was smeared on his lips and his tongue was out all the way. He smiled. So desperate. Kip was practically throwing himself at him. “What a creepy story.”

Yancey finished his meal and set the fork down. “So do you understand why I think you should fix your eyes?” he asked. He shrugged dismissively. “People who don’t try to make themselves better are no different than the ones in that story. Like starving animals, doing nothing to improve their circumstances, waiting around to be eaten up by monsters.”

Sometimes Lee wondered if he hated him. He put a hand to his neck.

Maybe he had already been eaten up by a monster.

ECHO

It sounded like Eden was crumbling into pieces. The bombing had started almost 24 hours ago and the sound was still constant. It wasn’t explosions, not anymore. It was buildings that were collapsing in on themselves, their structure weakened by powerful explosives. Buildings and metro lines, maybe even the foundation of Eden itself was falling in on itself. Echo didn’t know. They were locked inside of a windowless bathroom located on the Residential District of the Mid Levels and had been since 10am the previous morning.

They knew that the situation outside was dire though and understood this because when they turned the sink on, it ran brown. Some of the pipes must have busted, or wastewater was draining into the system from some kind of hole. So they hadn’t been able to have anything to drink. Not that it mattered. They figured they were going to die soon, for no other reason than their own bad luck.

When the bombs had started going off at 7:45 am the previous day, every Internal Operations secret police agent had been sent out to the different districts. None of them had brought weapons, which looking back on it, had been very stupid. Their purpose had been to help rescue people who needed rescuing, who had been crushed or injured by the explosions, and to evacuate the Residential Districts to the metro stations which acted as make-shift bomb shelters. Echo had moved quickly and effectively through a very normal looking apartment building, knocking on doors, yelling at people to get out and telling them where to go. It had been fine, it had been just fine, there had been no bombs anywhere near the section of city they had been ordered to go so Echo had been safe.

Until they reached apartment 405, on the 4th floor.

They didn’t know who lived there, but he had to be some kind of crazy person or serial killer. Echo had banged on his door, just like they had banged on every other door in the building. The man had taken one look at them in their uniform, his eyes had blazed with something akin to fury, and he had hit them hard enough in the face to knock them down onto the floor, then dragged them kicking and screaming inside and wouldn’t let them leave.

That’s when Echo had known that they were in real trouble. The man had looked perfectly normal, perfectly unremarkable, but his black eyes had been fever-bright and he had acted crazed. When they tried to fight back he had overpowered them with ease, impossibly strong and fast, fighting in a method they had never seen. He had knocked their helmet off and started to strangle them, it had seemed like he was going to kill them up until the point that Echo had duplicated themself to try and even the odds. The man had looked at the duplicate, laughed like he couldn’t believe what was happening, then hit Echo in the stomach until they dropped the dupe and started to cry.

They should have tried harder to fight back. But they were only 14 years old and very small and scared. And now they were locked in a bathroom, waiting for...who knew what.

Crying was no good. Crying didn’t help. They had pulled the lid off the toilet tank and were ready to use it to hit the man who had kidnapped them whenever he came back. If Echo was just able to get out of the bathroom, they would be able to get out of the apartment, and if they were able to get out of the apartment, they would be able to get back to the dorms.

Hopefully they wouldn’t get in trouble. Hopefully the staff would understand.

Something far below them rumbled and crashed. Echo held onto the lid and waited for the door to open.

They did not have to wait long.

The man who had trapped them unlocked the door and stood at the threshold. He was white, maybe in his mid-twenties, with dark hair, a bland face, and a relaxed posture. He had an average body that should not have been capable of the monstrous strength and reflexes he had exerted the day before. What was he? Not an Artificial, he looked too plain and ordinary, too poor. He stood with his hands in his pockets. When the crashing below them intensified, shaking the entire building, he did not even react.

“You better not try to hit me with that, buddy,” he said casually, as if he was not talking to a scared teenager he had trapped in a bathroom. “Put that thing down.”

Echo did not put down the toilet tank lid. They gripped it tighter and shifted their weight.

The man kept his hands in his pockets. “Sorry I hurt you. I thought that you people had figured it out and had come to kill me— I’d heard that Omo and Brently were already dead. But they got caught with the bombs. You were just trying to get people out of the building, huh? You were just trying to help?”

It didn’t make any sense. Echo didn’t waste time thinking about what they were hearing. It was all a distraction.

Serial killers weren’t unheard of in Eden. 6 months ago some guy had been caught with the bodies of eight young women decaying in his crawl space. He had been doing weird sex stuff with the corpses. From what Echo had seen of this man’s house, it seemed pretty normal and un-serial killer-y. But they couldn’t think of any other reason some guy would trap someone in a room unless he was planning on doing something bad to them.

They weren’t about to die like that. The months they had spent in Internal Operations hadn’t been ideal but it was better than that.

“Can we start over?” asked the man with the dark eyes. Why wasn’t he scared? Everyone else in Eden had to be living in terror, cowering in the metro stations and mourning their dead. This man practically ignored the noises coming from all around them. “My name’s Yancey. You wanna tell me your name?”

Echo shook their head and did not let go of the toilet lid that they were planning on smashing down on him.

“You don’t wanna talk?”

The problem wasn’t that Echo didn’t want to talk; they wanted to yell at this man, Yancey, who had trapped them. They wanted to cuss him out and ask him why he had done this to them when they had only been trying to make sure that he was safe. But there was something wrong and there always had been. Some kind of fear or awkwardness that made it impossible for them to get any words out, especially when they weren’t comfortable. Sometimes they could when they really had to, when it was serious, like when they had been yelling at people to evacuate. When Echo had first been Recruited, right after their memories had been wiped, the handlers had made them go to the Infirmary, where the nurses had said that they had some sort of anxiety thing that would get better over time.

Yancey had his hands in his pockets. When he saw them looking, he kept smiling and took out his hands, empty. “See? I’m not gonna hurt you again. I just wanna talk. I know you can talk, I heard you scream.”

Something very bad was about to happen, but Echo wasn’t sure what.

Then, Yancey took a step back so that he was no longer blocking the door. “Are you thirsty? There’s something wrong with the pipes, Omo set off a bomb by the water treatment center. That was stupid, but I wasn’t thinking. I can get you something to drink if you want?”

They were thirsty. Their mouth was dry and after 18 hours, dehydration was beginning to set in. Echo hesitated, wondering how stupid it would be for them to accept a small kindness from a man who was keeping them locked up against their will.

But then, weren’t they being kept in the Program against their will? Hadn’t they already been kidnapped? Hadn’t they already been harmed? This was only different because it lacked the clear structure of IODE.

And Echo was very thirsty. They nodded. Yancey nodded back. He walked away but left the door open.

After a moment, Echo walked out of the bathroom. They left the heavy toilet lid behind. Stupid. So stupid. But they did not want to have to carry the heavy thing around, especially if they intended to make a break for it.

It was a studio apartment, an oversized square. A bed in one corner. A small kitchenette in the other. There were no windows; this was the kind of place where the poorest of the poor lived-- a concrete box, almost completely unfurnished. Yancey was opening the fridge and pulling something out. He did not appear to be paying attention.

Echo crossed the small apartment as fast as they could and tried to open the door. It was stuck. They tugged on it again, undid the deadlock. It would still not open. Locked. Of course it was locked. Nothing was as easy as that. Still, they kept yanking on the door, as if that would somehow allow them to escape.

“Yeah,” said Yancey from the kitchen, as he poured a carton of juice into two glasses. He didn’t look up. “It’s rigged. I’m not as dumb as I look.”

Something very nearby crashed with deafening power. Echo flinched and covered their head as the apartment shook and dust fell from the ceiling. What if the whole thing came down on them? Would that be better? Would it be better to be squashed by a falling building than stuck in a locked apartment with a man who almost certainly had bad intentions?

They wondered if they were going to start crying again, tears were already pricking at the corners of their eyes. They were scared. They were just a kid. This wasn’t fair.

Even though it was pointless, they yanked on the door again.

Yancey took a sip from one of the glasses of juice, cool as anything. How was he not panicking? He picked up a remote from the kitchen counter and pointed it at the television on the opposite wall, almost as if he was bored.

On the TV, a trembling blonde reporter gazed into the camera, glistening with sweat and dust. She shared the screen with visuals of the smoldering, battered remains of Eden’s Central bank. “Center right now is just beginning to work on this story, o-obviously calling our sources and trying to figure out exactly what happened. But clearly, something d-devastating happened yesterday morning all across the Colony. And again, there are unconfirmed reports that more explosives have gone off throughout the night and into this morning. We are trying to provide more information on the subject as it becomes available to us.”

The bank had been completely destroyed. Once it had stood 10 stories tall in the center of the Mid Levels and unlike the majority of buildings in Eden, had been made of white stone. The crumbled chunks of stone on the screen had been burned black and smoke still rose up from beneath them.

“Cool, huh?” Yancey commented, without looking away from the TV. He had a wide, almost sensual and hungry mouth, and now it curved up into a wry smile. “Nobody here realizes how quickly everything can just fall apart. Hopefully all this pain and chaos accomplishes what I intended.”

Echo began to shiver and shake again. They were still unaware of just how bad the damage done to their Colony had been, but the images on the TV frightened them. A terrible thought now occurred in their mind: what would they do if the Capitol building had been destroyed? What would they do if the dorms had been blown up, if many of the other Internal Operations agents were dead? If they were able to get out of this apartment, where would they even go?

The reporter sniffled and wiped her eyes. “W-we take you now to Mayor Jay Malena, and his address to the surviving people of Eden.”

The camera cut to Eden’s Mayor, a tall thin man with gray hair and a severe face. Echo had seen him before on TV, and usually he was all smiles, always flashing his big square teeth. Now though, he did not look scared or weak, only sad and a little angry.

“Good morning,” said Mayor Malena. “Today all of us, our homes, and way of life came under attack in a series of deliberate and deadly terrorist acts. The victims were our friends and neighbors, coworkers and leaders, children, moms and dads. Thousands of lives were suddenly ended by despicable acts of terror. The images of buildings exploding, fires burning huge-- huge structures collapsing have filled us with disbelief, sadness, and unyielding anger. These acts of mass murder were meant to frighten us, but they have failed. Our Colony is strong.”

He continued to talk but Echo zoned it out. They did not have time for this, no time to sit around watching TV. They had to get out of this apartment.

If they tried to get the jump on Yancey, he would only hurt them again. Echo knew this now. Maybe if they played nice, tried to acquiesce, did whatever he wanted from them, they would be able to wait it out and figure out how to escape.

Yancey nodded his head at the TV. “Did you know his son Harper died 8 months ago? Weird, right?”

Echo did not know. They stared at Yancey and tried to imagine all the horrible things that he could do to them.

“‘Cuz you’re his spitting image, bright eyes.”

This was stupid. Echo tried the door again. Yancey laughed. He had a mean laugh, like he was making fun of them and how scared they were.

In the background, the Mayor droned on and on about how Eden would rebuild better and stronger.

Yancey picked up the other glass of juice, then walked over and held it out to them. Echo considered it for a moment, took it and had a cautious sip. It didn’t taste weird. Something logical in the back of their mind told them how stupid they were being, but the whole world was falling apart around them and they hadn’t had anything to drink in nearly a day. They drank the rest.

“I’ve never seen anyone make a copy of their own body,” said Yancey, watching them drink. He seemed almost bored when he said it, but there was a small spark of curiosity in his face. “Is that common in the secret police or are you the only one?”

It wasn’t like Echo was going to answer him, but they were the only one, as far as they knew. Their Ability was the only reason they were A-Class; they weren’t as strong or as smart as everyone else, but they could create clones of their own body. It was difficult though, and sometimes it didn’t work. Sometimes the duplicates came out...wrong, with crippled arms and legs or with features that were in the wrong places. It could be useful, just not as useful as being a powerful psychic or telekinetic.

“Still don’t wanna talk?” Yancey’s mouth tightened. “That’s not very helpful. I’m gonna start feeling annoyed if you don’t answer me.”

“Fellow citizens,” said the Mayor on TV, “We’ll meet this violence with patient justice, assured of the rightness of our cause and confident of the victories to come.”

Echo wished that they hadn’t been stupid enough to leave the bathroom, to leave the heavy toilet tank lid. At least then they might have a weapon.

A weird glimmer seemed to pass over Yancey’s face and the bland banality of it dropped away, leaving him appearing sharper, paler, and more cruel. An illusion? The blackness of his eyes changed to a milky, filmed-over pink and an old purple scar was visible on his throat. Psychic, of course he was a psychic. There was one psychic who worked with illusions in the Program, but Echo had never known Wicker to apply those Abilities to change his own appearance.

“You know, I just got an internship in Research and Development,” said Yancey. He no longer appeared human. “So I know. I know all about how it works. I could make sure you get back safely. I could make sure you don’t get in trouble for running away. I know they don’t like it when you IODE kids don’t come back. Don’t they hurt you guys when you act up?”

They hadn’t run away. They had been kidnapped. This wasn’t fair.

“Do it again,” Yancey told them. His filmy-pale eyes were terrible and unsettling, the eyes of something that has lived in the dark for a long time. “Duplicate yourself.”

Echo shook their head. Their vision was blurring and becoming fuzzy and their body felt foreign to them. Everything started to numb. Suddenly their hands were no longer worked and they dropped the glass. It fell and shattered on the floor. Stupid. So stupid. That’s what they got for being trusting. Of course the juice had something in it. So stupid! That’s what they got for believing that this might turn out OK.

They stumbled a little and struggled to stand up straight. When they tried the door again, their fingers could not grasp the handle.

“Yeah,” said Yancey, watching. Something in a level far above them crashed and more dust fell from the ceiling. He didn’t even flinch.“That must be frustrating. Don’t worry, it’s just an anxiolytic. I find that it helps people act more obedient.”

All of their thoughts were becoming disorganized, slow, like each synapse was moving through oatmeal. Even the panic was fading away, and that panic was what they needed to hold on to in order to stay alive. Fear was good in certain situations. Fear keeps you sharp. Echo stumbled again, then fell down, hitting their knees and hands hard. When they tried to rise up again, their body wouldn’t listen to the signals their mind was sending.

“Woah, careful.” Yancey crouched down beside them. “Are you gonna listen to me or am I gonna have to motivate you?” He flicked their forehead, which was probably meant to be playful, but seemed intimidating.

“Stop!” Echo begged. The drugs had cut through the crippling anxiety that made it so difficult for them to speak. Their nose was starting to run and they kept blinking away tears. “Let me leave! I don’t understand!”

“So you can talk, huh?”

“Why are you doing this?!”

Yancey flicked their forehead again. There was something wrong with the way he looked and moved now. It was furtive and jerky. His illusory Abilities had been covering it up. More animal than man. The purple scar on his throat stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin.

Something inside of Echo told them that this person was not from Eden.

“Duplicate,” he told them again.

“No!” They didn’t know why he was so interested in their Ability, but understood that it may have been the only reason he hadn’t killed them when they had first met. The interest they saw in him was unnatural and they knew that whatever the reasons behind that interest were, they couldn’t be good. At this point they didn’t know whether he intended to murder or sexually assault them, or something worse, but they didn’t want to play along.

Far away, probably in the street outside the apartment, a woman was wailing like her heart was broken. Grief and loss and fear permeated the very air. How many people had already died, crushed by falling buildings or torn apart by explosions? And all Echo could think about was how they didn’t want to be next.

Then Yancey sighed, like this was taking up too much of his time. “Whatever. OK, Harper.” He grabbed them by the front of their uniform and hauled them up to their feet. Despite being a man of average build, he was able to do it without much effort. When Echo tried to push him away, he popped them in the nose. “Quit that.” He started to pull them back across the tiny, square studio towards the bathroom.

“Stop!”

“Will you calm down?” Yancey hauled them into the bathroom but didn’t shut the door. When he dropped them, Echo was unable to pull themselves back up, it was like their body and their mind were completely disconnected. Had it not been for the anxiolytic, they knew that they would be hyperventilating, but every process in their body had slowed significantly. Ignoring them now, Yancey twisted the stopper in the bottom of the tub and turned on the faucet. “You know, I listened to grown ups when I was your age. I would have been eaten if I didn’t.”

Water rushed into the tub, filling it. Echo listened to it rush, listened to their own blood rush through their body. Everything felt heavy and even breathing was difficult; maybe they were too numb to even cry or do much more than blink.

They didn’t know what was happening, only that it was bad. Echo had endured bad things before, they had endured psychics hurting them inside of their own mind, they had endured humiliation and mistreatment from dormitory staff. But at least there had been reasons for that! At least Echo had known that they were being punished for stepping out of line or doing something bad. Here there was no reason. Here there was only this man, Yancey, who made no sense.

“Please don’t hurt me!” begged Echo, trying one last time, their tongue numb and heavy in their mouth.

“Why would I hurt you?” asked Yancey, looking down at them with his filmy eyes. He sounded genuinely curious, it showed itself in a weird lilt of his voice. “I think I was supposed to find you. Why would I hurt you? This day has been a real disaster, you know? I made the mistake of working with some real idiots. Everything that could have gone wrong went wrong. Then you showed up, you and your gift of a replicated body. I’m lucky like that. Duplicate yourself, I want to see it.”

The only reason Echo could comprehend someone would be so interested in endless repetitions of one body was a sexual one, and they did not want to give this stranger the satisfaction.

Yancey turned the water off. He sniffed. “Be like that,” he said, then hauled them up again and shoved them rag doll-like into the bathtub.

The water was cold, gray and foul from the contamination of the wastewater pipes. Some of it got into Echo’s nose and mouth as they struggled with the weakness of their body to keep their head up. As they started to spit and cough, Yancey shoved their head down beneath the dirty water and held them there for 15 seconds, maybe 20. When he pulled them back up again, Echo used the last of their strength to splutter and wheeze and panic, their body reacting against the desires of their mind. They could not fight him. They couldn’t even get out of the tub.

It went beyond what they had imagined. Yancey appeared less bored now, as if having someone’s life literally in his hands provided him with some kind of sick amusement. He raised his eyebrows as he watched Echo fight for breath. “Gonna keep dunking you until you cooperate with me,” he said.

Echo wanted to cry but couldn’t even do that. Couldn’t even do anything but try to breathe. They were able to suck in a couple gasps of air before Yancey pushed them underwater again. This time he held them down for almost a minute. When he pulled their head up, they swallowed a mouthful of filthy water and started to choke.

Was Yancey the type of person who would be willing to drown a kid with his own hands? Echo’s gut told them that he was. Those filmy, subterranean eyes held no empathy.

Water had gotten into their lungs, chilling them. Were they going to die? Were they going to die here?! “Stop!” they wailed. “Stop, stop, I’ll–”

Yancey pushed them under for a 3rd time. It seemed like a long time. Long enough for it to hurt. Long enough for them to get really scared.

When he pulled them up, weakly struggling and splashing, they looked up into his face. Beyond the bored cruelty, Yancey’s face had the kind of driven determination Echo had never seen before. It was clear already that he had something to do with the bombings. A man who was willing to do that was willing to do anything. A man who was willing to do that was the kind to set morals aside in order to achieve his goals.

Whatever those were.

Echo did the only thing they could.

They duplicated.

The process did not hurt. It was as painless as cutting your own hair, and took about as much concentration. A second body, nearly identical to them in every aspect, split wetly from them. Arms and legs, a torso and a head, simply grew out from the original parts and separated. Sometimes, if Echo did not pay attention, parts would get stuck. The arms or fingers would not come out correctly and would just stay connected to them. This was not one of those times. The duplicate splashed out into the tub beside them, tangled up with their own legs. It didn’t move. It couldn’t do anything on its own, of course it didn’t move.

Immediately, Yancey took his hands away from Echo. He crossed his arms and gazed at the duplicate. “Good job,” he said. “Good job, Harper. Do you think it has a soul like you?”

Echo just tried to breathe. The water that they had swallowed made them cough and hack. They wanted to pull themselves up out of the tub but were too scared to, settling on pushing the dupe away instead to make more room. Its body wasn’t right, soft and gummy to the touch. When they pushed it, it just flopped to the side limply. To answer the man’s question, they just shrugged.

“When I first saw them, I didn’t think Artificials had souls.” Yancey’s voice became thoughtful and contemplative. Something about his eyes softened, the glimmer passed over him again and they returned to the dull black they had been before. His flesh softened. Once more, he became the bland, normal looking man he had once been, no longer a monster. He leaned over the tub and placed a hand on the duplicate’s chest. “I didn’t understand how a person can be grown in a lab. You know? But they do. If you take them apart, they have the same spark as me or you.”

Take them apart? There was only one thing that could mean. He was talking about killing people. He was talking about cutting people up. Echo trembled more violently, more out of terror than because of the cold. They wished they had died. They wished they had died during the bombings instead of being stuck here with him.

“Something without a soul can be a vessel for something else,” said Yancey. He gave the duplicate a little push and watched as it looked up at him blankly with a face that was the same as Echo’s. “You think that’s true?”

“Please let me go,” said Echo.

“It is true. I used to see an empty, soulless body all the time when I was a boy. It used to host something my mother told me came from beyond the stars. Maybe from beyond the universe. Can you imagine that? We used to let it pick us off one by one, in the darkness. I told myself I couldn’t let that happen again. I told myself I had to kill it— but how am I supposed to kill something that’s formless?”

“I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll do what you want, just please let me go!”

“Gas is without form too, but what happens if you trap it inside of a balloon? You can touch it. You can move it around. The shell gives you power over what’s inside.” Yancey gave the duplicate another little push, then put one hand on the toilet tank cover. “I can figure it out. I can learn how to trap it, I can learn how to kill the demon, or send it back to where it came. It’s here, you know? Formless, bodiless, whatever. I can sense its presence.”

Echo cringed down lower into the tub as if the water would somehow protect them. They did not understand what this man was talking about. It was beyond them. The intensity, the cadence of his speech was quasi-religious and fanatical. They were aware of things that were inhuman in Eden, the crawling creatures of black slime that only people with Abilities could see. But this? Whatever he was talking about was beyond any of it. “I don’t understand,” they said.

Yancey lifted the toilet tank cover in both hands, then brought it down into the duplicate’s face hard. The force crushed its head like an egg in an instant and the false body Echo had created collapsed into masses of black jelly. The bodies were fragile and lacked any real bones or nervous systems, but there was no way Yancey could know that. Slime splashed onto Echo, getting into their eyes and mouth. The pain they felt was brief but just as agonizing as if it was their own brain matter getting splattered. Screaming would have taken too much effort, they could only whimper.

In that moment, they did understand. For reasons that were beyond them, this man was filled with a single-minded conviction that what he was doing was right. Whether that meant participating in the destruction of Eden or kidnapping and hurting a teenager, he would do whatever he had to in order to follow the path he had set for himself. You can’t persuade a person with an indomitable spirit. You couldn’t even argue.

Whatever was in store for Echo, they knew that it was worse, much worse than this.

Yancey’s dull black eyes were like holes in the very fabric of the universe. “You don’t have to understand,” he said, watching liters of slime float upon the surface of the water. “You just have to do what I tell you.”

ESTHER AND ROSIE

“Here’s an idea,” Esther told Rosaline, as they made their way through the Upper Levels Industrial District towards the building that had once been her mother’s laboratory. “We kill him. He’ll never see it coming. We can just kill him and nobody will even care.”

Rosie looked tired. Her wavy brown hair was still damp from the shower she had taken to try and wake up. They had only been married for a year and some change and she seemed more exhausted every day. “Stop saying that, Babes. Nobody is killing Lee. I don’t think it’s even possible. And like, we need him.”

“We really don’t need him. I don’t even know why we decided to keep him around. He can talk about how he’s grown and changed all he wants, but he hasn’t. Ayda agrees with me.”

“That’s fine but we can’t just try to murder someone for making us a little uncomfortable.”

Esther didn’t agree with that at all. She didn’t forgive and she didn’t forget. She would never forget how Lee had tricked all of them when they were just teenagers. Why had they been so stupid back then? It made her so angry! He had hung out with them alone for months and none of them had even realized how much danger they were in. He had given them alcohol, he had given her little brother and sister alcohol and they had only been 14 years old! She had thought Kip had died because of him! And now Kip was back, he was finally back, and he was so...broken.

She knew whose fault that was.

When Lee had driven up to save them all while they were wandering and starving in the wilderness, they had needed him. Now they didn’t need him. Now she wanted him to die.

“I want to hurt him.” Esther stuck her hands into her pockets. The prosthetic arm was clumsy. After an Internal Operations agent who happened to be Kip had crushed her arm from the elbow down with an energy bubble while they were trying to escape Eden, she didn’t think she would ever get used to it. Now it was just as much a part of her life as Rosie was.

“Hurting him isn’t gonna change what happened. It’s not gonna make Kip better.”

Why did she always have to be so good? She was right, but it brought Esther no satisfaction.

They continued walking. Most of the people who worked in the Industrial Districts didn’t even look at them, all they cared about was their work. The one on the Upper Levels was nothing like the ones down below, there were no stinking, noisy factories here. There were labs and research companies, all run by members of the intelligentsia class, mostly Artificials. Esther had always assumed she would end up working here. Now she didn’t fit in.

Well, it didn’t matter that she didn’t fit in. Breaking herself down to become the best that she could be just wasn’t worth it. She was happier that way. She had never been able to be her Mother’s perfect little doll. Since the day she met the Nguyens as a kid, she had wanted something else.

A late-stage Artifical with an eerily perfect face passed by them, tightening his lips as his eyes passed over Rosie. Esther was not the only one who did not belong here. The strictly enforced class system in Eden separated them all. With the constantly rising popularity of genetically modified children in the Upper Class, people’s differences were all out in the open. It only took one glance to know whether or not someone came from money. It only took one glance to pass judgment.

Esther took her hand, her flesh and blood hand, out of her pocket and held Rosie’s as they walked.

It didn’t take long to reach Mom’s lab from the subway terminal. Compared to some of the other buildings in the District, it was of a modest size, only two stories. It was built from gray concrete in the same sharp, Brutalist style that dominated the architecture in Eden and had green vines growing up a trellis on one side. Esther felt a chill when she looked at it. Some of her worst childhood memories came from inside of that building.

Part of her was glad that Mom had died while she and the others were gone. It was easier that way. It was easier that she didn’t have to see Dad’s grief. But part of her, the part that was just as harsh and cold as her mother wished that she was still around. If she was still around, maybe she could help Rosie understand the changes that had been made to her body. There was so much that they didn’t know.

“Is Evangeline already there?”

“She’s been there since 5.” Ever since returning to Eden last month, a new fear had overcome Esther. This place and its expectations were breaking her little brother and sister. They weren’t even out of Grad School yet but it seemed like the pressure of high achievement was making them crack.

Mom’s lab had no security, not even an access code to get in the door. What kind of idiot would break into a place where the wealthy paid to genetically engineer their embryos? In the past, anti-Artificial fanatics from the Weil Church had protested outside, and Mom had called the police to shoot them with rubber bullets. But the technology inside, the bodies inside were worth more than anything in Eden. If Esther was a thief, this was where she would start. Imagine kidnapping something that had not yet taken its first breath.

The glass doors slid open, leading to a long white hallway that smelled of chemicals. A crew of cleaners came twice a day. It was imperative that no outside pollutants affect the growing embryos. Mom used to make Esther and the twins scrub their hands before coming inside.

For some reason she felt comforted by this place. How strange. It used to scare her. Now it felt normal. Compared to all the strange and terrifying places she had been, compared to the wilderness, the Northern Territories, the Lost Colony, it was normal.

There were a few techs scurrying around the halls. They didn’t even look at them. Too busy. Esther did not recognize any of them. A lot had changed since her mother ran Evophene.

“4th door on the left,” said Esther.

“I’ve been here before, you know,” said Rosaline.

Esther knew that. She didn’t like to think about it. She held her wife’s hand a little tighter.

The lab was a big white room full of glass and metal. The back wall was lined with shelves that held the little globes containing genetic material and embryos at their first stages of development. After the appropriate modifications were made in the lab, the embryos would either be taken to the vats on the second floor, or be destroyed. In the middle of the room was a long metal table covered with computers, beakers, syringes, and chemical compounds.

Evangeline sat at the table, pushing a needle into something gooey inside of a Petri dish. She looked up when her sister and Rosie walked into the room. She wore her red hair clipped back from her face and plastic goggles over her eyes. For a moment she looked exactly like Mom. “You’re late,”she said. That sounded exactly like Mom. “Nobody followed you here, right?”

“Anyone who would follow us has bigger things to worry about right now.” Yesterday the blood magic cult known as People’s Heaven had killed two young women and left the disemboweled bodies in front of the Central Bank. It was all over the news.

Things were getting worse in Eden. Things did not feel safe. Fear and discontent were bubbling up everywhere. Crime was on the rise and it went hand in hand with brutality from both the police and Internal Operations. The government could not control itself, the economy was in shambles. Months ago, when the Northern ambassadors had arrived in Eden, Florence Gauthier had been shot. Now there was talk of flat out war. It would be easy for chaos to overtake the Colony.

Riots kept breaking out. Ever since Valentine Prospas’s interview on AGA news about what really went on in Internal Operations, people were on the edge of all out revolt. Of course they were. They wanted to keep their own children safe and could no longer trust the government to do that.

Things were really bad. But at least she had Rosie. That’s why they were doing this.

“Were you able to find Yancey Gallo’s research?” asked Rosie. She walked towards the table. She was hiding her discomfort with this place but Esther could see it in her.

“He still comes here, you know,” Evangeline said nervously. “I don’t know why Mom even hired him on as a contractor. He doesn’t even have a PHD, he’s just a chemist. But I can’t get rid of him.”

Can’t or won’t? It was no secret that the company was in shambles. Its stock had lost half its value and a handful of competitors had sprung up during the time Esther was gone. But she didn’t have any say. The twins were the majority shareholders, not her. Once they finished school, they would run it themselves.

Not that she wanted anything to do with this place. It seemed evil to her now.

“Do you know when he comes in?”

“On the weekends. I think he teaches chemistry part time up in the School District.”

He did. Ayda had recognized his name, even though she worked with middle schoolers and he worked in the high school. She hadn’t remembered much about him other than that he was quiet and kept to himself. Rosie and Lee had different perspectives.

That was the other reason they kept Lee Harlan around. His body had been violated in the same way Rosie’s had. They had been injected with the same otherworldly substance. Why then were they so different? Rosaline’s changes were external, she could twist and change her body, growing stronger, larger. It made her look like a monster. Lee’s changes were hidden. He could not be killed and when he slept his mind went to the Void. Was it because he was psychic? What was the difference between them?

There were others too. Esther had seen them in the Lost Colony and that was almost too horrible to remember. In the North, Olive Vernier had told them about the North’s dead Princess, whose body had been changed by the blood magic cult of Blagodat. It seemed as if this knowledge had originated outside of Eden. So where had it come from?

Too many questions. It was frustrating. Maybe here they could find some of the answers.

Evangeline pushed aside her petri dish and peeled off her gloves. She typed something on the keyboard beside her and turned the screen towards Esther and Rosie. “Go ahead and look at his records. He’s not great at documentation, I already read through it all. There’s nothing you guys would be interested in. Most of his work is on chemistry-to-gene screens in the family ichneumonidae.”

“Ichneumonidae?”

“Parasitoid wasps.” She pushed her goggles up to her forehead. Red indentations ran across her nose and cheeks. “You know, the things that made Darwin question his belief in God.”

Esther scanned through a couple of Yancey’s abstracts. There was a lot of terminology she did not understand. He seemed most interested in the chemical aspects of the ichneumonoid’s reproductive cycle, where the insect injected its eggs into a still living host. There was a difference between the kind that paralyzed the hosts and the kind that allowed them to continue to move as the eggs grew inside of them. In both cases, the ichneumonid larva fed on the bodies of the still living hosts before pupating.

“Doesn’t that sound like the Book?” said Rosie nervously.

“There’s no way this guy knows about all that. The only people in Eden who know about the Book are us and Cihad Tariq.” said Esther, frowning. As she continued to read, the coincidences grew more and more evident.

In addition to general host quality, ichneumonid females are able to differentiate between parasitized and non-parasitized hosts and are even able to distinguish hosts pre-parasitized from those previously parasitized. In general, pre-parasitized hosts are rejected more often. If females decide to oviposit nonetheless, fewer offspring and higher relative numbers of males are produced. The means by which ovipositing females assess the parasitization status of hosts has not been identified yet, but chemical messengers are likely involved. Watkins(AR 865) hypothesized that female venom injected into the caterpillar during oviposition might act as a cue and Harvell and Goodman (AR 867) recognized changes in the hosts' hemolymph composition after the injection of venom.

The image of a wasp penetrating a caterpillar to lay its eggs inside was vivid and disturbing in her brain. It did remind her of the Book. When it was inside of Kassidy, it sapped her energy and wasted her from the inside out. In the Lost Colony it had tried to pass from her and into Tony, claiming that he was its ideal host, he was the body that it needed. Esther scrolled through the rest of the abstracts. “Is this all there is?”

“Creepy,” said Rosaline.

It didn’t make any sense. “Mom was letting him use her CRISPR all these years to study insects?”

“Well I’m pretty sure they were having an affair, so there’s that,” Evangeline said stiffly. She pulled on a fresh pair of gloves and picked up the needle to begin prodding at her Petri dish again. “It’s not just insects. A couple weeks ago he brought in some genetic material and registered to start creating viable embryos. I had to sign off on it and everything.”

“Yancey doesn’t seem very parental,” said Rosaline. She gestured at the computer. “More like an insect.”

“It’s not like we can afford to properly vet potential parents anymore.” Esther’s sister pulled down her goggles. She was so brittle now. Overworked. Too much pressure. She was only 24 and had been forced to take over the company. Did she even want it? “Anyways, he’s not even paying to modify the embryos. Says the genes are already good.”

Something about that gave Esther a chill. She thought about the ichneumonid wasps and their similarities to the Book, the similarities between what they did to caterpillars and what it wanted to do to Tony. Was it even possible for Yancey to be aware of that? There was no connection between that and what he had done to Rosaline, to Lee.

No connection apart from the invasion of another person’s body.

It was so weird that a person like that wanted to be a teacher, even part time. It seemed a little predatory.

“So this was pointless,” said Rosie. “There’s nothing here about what he did to me. Or the others. I mean, there have to be records.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. Sorry, I guess. He’s a contractor, he’s probably working out of half a dozen different labs. He used to talk about going into Research and Development too.”

“There’s no way for us to even get close to that place. It’s crawling with secret police.” Rosie’s frustration was palpable. Her eyes had gone from brown to amber.

Esther clicked out of Yancey’s files and accessed the embryo request form database. There were hundreds of requests there. Hundreds more children just like her would be created that year. Every year Artificials were becoming more and more unnatural. She was starting to feel like it was wrong. ‘G’ for Gallo. She clicked on the request.

“He’s using his own sample?” She grimaced.

“What, like it’s hard to jerk off into a cup?”

Rosaline rested her arms on the table. She pushed a microscope away from her. “Yancey didn’t seem like the jerking off type. I always felt like he was dead.”

That wasn’t true either. Lee had told them otherwise. Probably to shock them, maybe to try and squeeze some pity out of Marty. He had told them all about exactly what had happened to him when he met Yancey Gallo at 17. It got no pity out of her. He made it seem like Yancey didn’t care about or understand Eden’s laws surrounding that kind of thing. Maybe that was why Lee had turned out the way he did.

Egg retrieval was more difficult than semen collection because a large needle had to be inserted through the abdomen, all the way to the ovaries. From there, the eggs were gently suctioned out. Because of the pain, the donor was always put under sedation. Sometimes there were complications, mostly air getting trapped inside the body. None were noted here though. Her eyes passed over the donor name and she froze. She read it again.

The name of the donor was Cynthia Tariq.

Esther felt her back stiffen and her breath go shallow. She read the name a 3rd time, just to be sure. There was no other information listed in the request, no date of birth, not even blood type. How common was that name in Eden? Another coincidence? Another connection? She had to stay calm.

Her mind returned to the parasitoid wasps and their hosts. The unrelenting and violating ovipositor. The squirming caterpillars.

Hey Rose,” she said. Her voice sounded as cold and heavy as a stone. “How old is Tony’s daughter?”

“Cynthia? I think she’s in high school, why?”

Her blood went cold. Of course. And Yancey Gallo taught chemistry part time at the high school. Convenient. It was convenient that he had experimented on Rosie and Lee’s bodies, injecting them with an alien substance from the same place as the Book. It was convenient that he was studying parasites and their hosts. It was so convenient that he had collected the genetic material of a girl directly related to a man who the Book wanted to use as a host, whose mother had died as its host.

And he wanted to create a child using his DNA as well. Why? Tony said that Cynthia was different, that her body was changed as well but naturally, that just like Rosie and Lee, she was partially human and partially…other. Esther didn’t know, but it had become instantly apparent that Yancey knew about the Book as well. Where had he come from?

This line of thought was cold and she knew it. At the heart of the matter was a little girl. Best case scenario, she had been stuck with a big needle. Worst case? She didn’t know.

Suddenly the stuff Lee had told them about Yancey messing around with him when he was 17 didn’t seem too funny.

Esther looked down at her hands. The prosthetic one gleamed metal in the harsh light of the laboratory. She stood up like she was in a trance and walked to the shelving on the back wall.

They were labeled alphabetically by the name of the person who had sent the request. Esther went to ‘G’ for Gallo. She slid it open. The air inside was cold, it had to be kept cold to maintain the integrity of the genetic material housed there. Each sample was stored in a small metal canister with liquid nitrogen inside until the fertilization process took place. She looked over dozens of canisters.

“Hey,” said Evangeline sharply. Her pale, pointed face flushed. “Get out of there, those have to stay cold.”

“Babes?” Rosie looked confused.

She picked up the canister with Yancey’s name on it. The cold metal chilled her to the bone. The anger she felt was cold as well. Cynthia was a stranger to her. She had never met her. Despite this, there was the urge to protect her.

How did Tony not know about this? Had Cynthia learned how to conceal herself from the Sight? Was that even possible?

She unscrewed the top of the canister. A burst of white condensation puffed out of it.

“Don’t do that!” Evangeline stood up, shocked. She put her hands out. “Seriously, are you crazy? That belongs to someone, that’s going to be someone’s kid!”

No it wasn’t. Not if she had anything to do with it.

Esther looked at Rosaline. “I think Yancey knows about the Book. I think everything he’s been doing has to do with the Book.” She reached inside of the freezing canister with her prosthetic arm and pulled out what was inside. Two little glass vials. One was filled with a white substance and the other one was clear with bloody specks. Holding it made her stomach churn. “Why else would he be trying to make a baby with Tony’s daughter?”

“What?!” Rosie put her hands over her face. “That’s–no, what?”

“Esther, put it back.” Evangeline slowly edged towards her. Her eyes were very wide. “Don’t get me in trouble.”

She didn’t care. This wasn’t something she had to think about. Esther hurled both little glass vials down onto the tile floor. They were fragile and smashed instantly, glass shattering, the liquids inside splattering. She stomped down on them for good measure. It felt good. It felt a little bit like revenge. He had taken something away from Rosie. Now she was taking something away from him.

There would be more time to figure out what he was doing, but she felt like she was on the right track.

“Creepy fucker,” she said, clenching her teeth.

“What’s going on in here?” someone asked mildly. It made Esther jump. She turned toward the laboratory door.

It was as if he had appeared out of nowhere. He was a bland looking white man in sensible, utilitarian clothing. His eyes were black, as was his hair, which looked like he had cut it himself. His posture was relaxed and did not exude any ill will. He was holding a lunch box.

Rosie made a small, scared sound, and stepped back towards Esther.

Static built up in her body. Her hair started to rise.

“Mr. Gallo,” said Evangeline, who had frozen in place. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Yeah. I forgot my lunch box.” He held it up, like that was an explanation. His black eyes slid over Esther and Rosie. “I told you to call me Yancey, kiddo. We’re practically family now. Who are your friends?”

Was he fucking with them? There was no way he did not recognize Rosaline. It had only been a couple years. Esther grabbed her wife’s hand. As far as she knew, this man was not a physical threat. If she had to, she could really hurt him.

She might really hurt him even if she didn’t have to.

“Come on,” Rosie told him. Some of her bones cracked. No, no. Not here. Not where people could see.

Yancey shrugged. “I’m bad with faces. My mother used to tell me it would get me into trouble some day.”

“My sister and her wife.” All the blood had drained from Evangeline’s face. “They were just leaving.”

“I thought your sister got shot by Internal Operations a couple years ago.” Yancey squinted down at the floor, at the shattered glass and splattered genetic material. He frowned in the stilted way someone who is not used to emoting does. “Uh. Am I going to get my deposit back for that? I mean if you give me some time and promise not to check my internet history, I could give you another sample right now, but it’s going to be another week or so before my lady friend ovulates again.”

This was too much. Esther wanted to smash something else. “You better stay away from that little girl,” she said, and now her voice sounded like her mother’s. “What do you even want? Why are you doing all this? Is it the Book? You’re working for it, aren’t you?”

Yancey’s eyes were like black holes in his face. A strange glimmer passed over him. Lee had said that he was some kind of illusionary psychic, like Vega Pelanato was. He could control people’s perceptions, appear boring and harmless. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “No need to get so aggressive.”

More of Rosie’s bones cracked. Her arms were slowly lengthening.

“Lee told us all about you.”

“Lee Harlan?” Yancey laughed. It was a short, barking, unnatural sound. He straightened the collar of his shirt. “Ew. I wouldn’t listen to that guy if I was you, Esther. Your name is Esther, right? No, he’s completely insane. Has he told you about what he does at night when his mind wanders to the Void beyond the stars? Nasty stuff. Don’t get yourself so worked up over assumptions. You know what they say about assumptions.”

Now the hair on the back of Rosie’s neck was growing longer. “Was what you did to me an assumption too?”

He frowned again and shifted his lunch box. “I don’t even know who you are. Looks like someone injected you with ichor and you survived it. Good for you. 99% of people don’t.”

This motherfucker.

He just stood there, looking at them. The glimmer passed over his face again. He was so normal. “Anyways, I’d love to stay and chat but I have to teach a class on ionic bonding in an hour, then get back up to Research and Development. I was just here to get my lunch box.” He smiled. It was as unnatural as his frown was and his teeth looked...red. They were stained, just as the survivors in the Lost Colony’s teeth had been stained from chewing on the roots that grew there in the dark. “I’ll see you guys around. Don’t mess with my samples again. I really don’t want to have to create an embryo the old fashioned way.”

And he turned and left, as easy as that.

What was wrong with her? Why hadn’t she done something? He had been right there, so polite and disarming. It would have been easy to smash his face into the ground and he deserved it. That was just for the things she knew he had done for sure! His involvement with the bombings, twisting Lee into a monster, hurting Rosaline, and now Cynthia? He hadn’t even denied it!

Seeing him had thrown her off. There was something about him that kept her from wanting to hurt him.

Those teeth. Just like in the Lost Colony. And Tony had said that the old woman there had told him to look for her son…

“Babes?” Rosie was still holding her hand. Her broad face was solemn. “I’m pretty sure he was here the whole time.”

That fucker.

She needed to know more.

She looked over at her sister. Evangeline was pale and trembling, holding herself. Why was she so scared? She wasn’t the one who needed to be scared. It wasn’t like she knew what was really going on. Esther intended to keep it that way. Her family did not need to know about the Book when there was so much more to worry about. Rosie was the one who needed to be worried. Cynthia was the one who needed to be worried. She sighed, suddenly exhausted.

There was too much to do.

But first she was going to have to call Tony.

#writing

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

between lightning and thunder|harry styles.

summary: he’s your best friend’s boyfriend, you have feelings for him, you know the drill.

“In thunderstorms, you count the seconds in between the lightning and thunder, the more you counted the furthest the lightning had struck. 5 seconds equals 1 mile. In matters of the heart, and considering this situation. The more you counted, the closer you were.”

word count: 7k

pairing: Harry Styles x reader

warnings: alcohol mention, a bit sad, Little Prince, some songs.

PART TWO: thunderstorms and shooting stars PART THREE: stars and fate

So, here’s my first official Harry Styles one shot (kind of two-part one shot), thanks to @peachybloomss and @laurieteddy for helping me out with beta reading. Yes, there will be part two if you guys want it. I’ll see if you like it, please send feedback, reblog, be kind.

The rain pattered against the asphalt, now bright and dense, reflecting the tinkling lantern that barely gave an excuse of light to the street. There you were, in that corner, shading the sidewalk with those sneakers that used to be white. You were getting wet, that was an understatement, you knew you would have a cold the very next day. You clutched your dark blue umbrella as you waited for a miracle.

You saw the sky light up and counted the seconds.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

The lightning struck with such a crash it made you shiver.

It seemed like it was the worst day of your life. It probably wasn't, but that's how it felt. It is difficult to understand why a relationship ends. It’s even more difficult to understand when you’re an outsider. You were not one, though, not really. You wished you were.

Your best friend’s boyfriend, now ex. Probably ex.

Harry.

You saw him, right outside of the building where you were supposed to be in, leaning to give a shoulder to your friend. You would, of course.

But you wondered what would happen if you didn’t. If you instead went to him. Of course the imagination can go as wild as we let it go but this was just not what you needed.

Harry.

It felt weird, and you didn’t know if she’d seen her. He was pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to breathe in. They’d probably had another fight. One of those loud arguments where both of them made absolutely no sense at all. The relationship both of them were fighting for but there was barely any relationship to be saved at all.

Harry.

There are secrets in life we all like to keep. This was one you’d kept for a long while right now.

But you didn't know how longer you could keep it. You were in love with your best friend’s boyfriend. Probably ex now. Who wouldn’t be?

It was the same old story, coming of age kind of story with no happy ending whatsoever and which led to this absolute mess, with every day your feelings growing deeper. It was your fault for becoming so close to him.

You saw him again, cursing at the rain as his hair was soaking, he only cursed between his teeth again as he was debating whether or not to go back into the building, he kicked the puddle forming in front of him and groaned. That’s when he saw you.

With your dark blue umbrella, and coat. Calmly watching him, not moving, not doing anything at all.

You wondered if he knew.

If he’d ever notice how your eyes brightened up when he was in the room. Maybe he had, all those years, with you in the shadows.

When you met him, him sitting down with some friends, they’d introduced you to one of his, and Sierra had insisted on pairing you up with that guy. Teenage years, when one escapes to parties and tries not to come back home drunk for your parents to notice. A Halloween party, you’d dressed up as Wednesday Addams, he’d dressed up as Elton John.

You had noticed him first, his green eyes had crossed with yours. It wasn’t really his zone, it had seemed. Sierra had caught his eyes, though.

You barely remembered anything from that party, it was like any other party from that time. Drunk teenagers, gathering around to smoke and play a bare excuse of beer pong.

It had been raining but it had stopped, that you could remember. You had gone outside, tired from the buzzing music that you could barely recognize, just loud strums and unnecessary words put together. Songs talking about material things and partying. Not feelings.

You remembered walking outside to the wet grass and you avoided some other people making out on the floor, Britney Spears making out with Frankenstein, that was something. Some other kids yelling through their phones as they assured their parents they weren’t drunk when they clearly stung like warm cheap beer.

You didn’t remember why you had walked out. But you did remember seeing him there, too.

“Got bored of the games?” He asked you, he was leaning against the wall.

There it was, the reason you went outside. He had intrigued you, why hadn’t he stayed with his friends? Why was he staring at the night sky? Was he that drunk?

You had crossed a few words with him throughout the party, nothing important or particular. Very… forgettable. You’d played beer pong against him and his friend, the one Sierra had insisted that he liked you.

But nothing too important.

However you’d seen him walk out. It had awakened something in you.

“I’m terrible at beer pong,” you admitted. “Not even risking playing.”

“That’s the fun of beer pong, though,” he commented. “Ge’ing your ass drunk enough.”

You chuckled. “Well why aren’t you playing anymore?”

“I’m too good,” he sassed. “Ain’t nothin’ fun in that,” he pointed out. “So, Wednesday Addams, huh?”

“Yes,” you smirked. “Be afraid, be very afraid.”

“You’re too smiley to be Wednesday, very pretty smile,” he grinned.

“Thanks, Elton,” you grinned. You didn’t know if the warmth in your body was from embarrassment or if it was the effect the alcohol was having on you.

He winked at you. “So, no beer pong for me.”

You rolled your eyes, and laughed a little. “I’m sure that’s not the reason why you’re here outside, your friends are having fun.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I just came here to see the sky—That sounds so pretentious.”

“It does,” you conceded. “But I’ll give it to you, it’s pretty, can’t judge you, I partly came outside for it, too.” Although you hadn’t. It was no secret his eyes had staggered in your mind for the whole night and that the constant smiling had caught your attention.

He had smiled, you still remembered it to this day. “Haven’t had a clear sky in days,” he commented.

You shrugged, “haven’t noticed.”

“You haven’t noticed,” he sounded incredibly offended, “didn’t you miss this?” He pointed at the sky, he was just slightly tipsy you could tell. “The stars?”

That had made you smile and even laugh. “Oh, yes. I missed it, I just hadn’t realized how much.”

“You hadn’t noticed how much you missed this beautiful night sky!” His movements were big, hands up in the air. He even caused some of the other teenagers to stop making out.

“Shh! You’ve interrupted them!” You pointed out as the couple walked away angrily.

“Tha’s great! Look at the sky fellas!” He reached out for them.

You laughed. “Oh my god.”

“Huh, they can be horny teens else here. Why ruin m’moment with the sky and a beautiful girl,” he grinned at you. “This only happens in the movies!” He yelled again.

You couldn’t help but blush and cling to the red cup in your hand. He was drunk.

“In the movies though, the guy isn’t as drunk,” you mocked.

“I’m not even that drunk love,” he said. “I’m just concerned how you haven’t noticed the stars.”

“I had noticed the moon was gone,” you admitted. “Bigger fan of the moon, alright?,” you said. “Right up there, see it?”

“She’s gorgeous,” he grinned. You stared at it, bright and round, and you turned to him shining bright enough in his nose. “She’s the love of my life,” he stated.

You had chuckled. “It’s a shame she disappears once every month.”

“She’s reborn,” he chuckled. “Maybe we should learn from ‘er, huh?”

“Really?”

“Each month she rises up again and she’s beautiful in each one of her stages,” he commented, “no matter if she’s on her way to the darkness, she’s stunning.”

You only scrunched your nose. “We’re getting a bit too poetic, are we?”

He laughed. “Maybe,” he admitted.

“I’m kidding, I like that,” you’d said. “We should all be like the moon.”

“Hm, but if we were, who’d be the stars,” he commented. “It’s funny, we take the stars for granted but y’know what?” He chuckled. “Each one of ‘em is very particular.”

“No one would notice if a star was gone,” you pointed out.

“I would, the sky would look sadder,” he said. “And even if I love the moon, everyone does really, the stars are what paint the night sky so beautifully.”

“Well the moon works hard to be seen,” you grinned. “I think we should compliment her effort.”

“What about the stars? They’re so far away yet they’re freckling the dark sky,” he smiled and then turned to you.“This does feel like a movie scene, innit?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“It’s not one,” he added. “Or else you would’ve kissed me.”

You coughed, blushing. You had felt butterflies. The kind of butterflies that hadn’t disappeared in all those years. “Yeah, it’s not—Not a movie scene.”

You should’ve kissed him, though. But he hadn’t kissed you either so maybe that was the answer you needed.

“Is it the Wednesday Addams in you?” He wondered with a chuckle.

“Maybe,” you shrugged, trying to get as serious as you could.

He blushed. “What would you do if a guy worshiped and adored you? Who'd do anything for you? Who'd be your devoted slave? Then what would you do?”

“I’d pity him,” you quoted Wednesday.

He laughed. “You do know her, great.” He kept staring at the sky. “It would be great if a shooting star passed by, would add to it.”

“Shooting stars, are they like the moon?” You asked.

He chuckled. “No, they’re one of a kind and shall be treasured. If you miss your shot then it’s gone, you should take the chance when you get it.”

“Never thought of it that way,” you admitted.”hm who would’ve thought a drunken teenager dressed as Elton John would teach me of this.”

“A wise drunk teenager dressed as Elton John,” he corrected. “You’re a lil’ bit tipsy yourself huh.”

You grinned. “Yeah, just a little.”

“Besides, you proved my point!” He chipped. “You hadn’t noticed the stars!”

You smiled. “Now I will, I guess, thanks Elton.”

“I love the stars,” he pointed out. “Shame they’re barely seen.

“The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart,” you said.

“The Little Prince,” he grinned. “You know that book?”

“Everyone knows it,” you chuckled. “But yes, it’s my favorite.”

“But everyone barely does,” he grinned. “It’s my favorite book, too, read it each year.”

“Me too,” you beamed. “Helps me out when I’m lost.”

“I always learn something,” he said.

You grinned.

“I’m Harry,” he had introduced himself to you. “Harry Styles.”

And it rolled on the top of your tongue every now and then, that named you crushed and cursed. It had lingered until now. Of course his stupid name was perfect, too.

You should’ve kissed him or ran along with his—had he attempted to flirt? Was he trying that? You knew you had liked him. One of those stupid connections, like he’d said. It had felt like one, one of those coming of age films. But it wasn’t.

Short conversation that you couldn’t quite put your head to it. Didn’t make any sense, if you were honest. You should’ve kissed him, and to this day you still wondered what would’ve happened if you had.

The story of how Harry and Sierra had officially met was his favorite to tell. He’d say it over and over, how a beautiful girl dressed like Puglsey Addams, because of course best friends always match, had accidentally ran to him and he’d spilled his drink on her moments after meeting you. How he had helped her in the bathroom to clean herself and they’d instantly laughed. How he had fallen in love with her the second he’d met her.

Funny.

They had walked out of that party, they’d probably gone for a walk. You remembered it. How since that day you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

How since that day you always stared at the night sky and watched the stars.

Funny thing, he was the one to call you out for being in love with the moon and never paying attention to the stars, yet he had never noticed you. Taken you for granted.

You couldn’t blame him, after all, the moon was the love of his life.

You’d grown fonder of him, and Sierra had made sure you both got along.

“My best friend and my boyfriend have to get along.”

You shouldn’t have, though. Because with time you both were hanging out a friendship was forming, from his side. And then a growing feeling in yours.

Had he ever noticed?

Each time Sierra dragged him so you wouldn’t feel left out, but it was counterproductive because you’d fall for him. Because it seemed that his jokes were just made for you, and you couldn’t help but think that you were meant to be.

Maybe he’d noticed that time near her birthday, years ago, when he’d call you to bake cookies together for your friend. He probably had noticed then. Maybe he had felt something, too.

Licking a spoonful of cookie dough, and laughing against each other, how he would hide his smile, and how he’d give you those shy green eyes before avoiding a laugh when you’d said a very bad joke.

How both of you were tiptoeing and dancing in the kitchen, music playing loud, as you were sitting on the counter and he leaned against it, scrolling on his phone as he played songs.

“Okay, so this,” Harry had said, “this is one of my favorites,” he said before a guitar started to play.

“The Zombies, She’s not there!” You guessed quickly. “A classic, please, you have to be kidding me, play something difficult.”

“How do you know it?” Harry frowned, jokingly turning to you. “I swear—“

“I love them, what do you mean?” You chuckled.

“But you’ve guessed every single song I’ve played,” he pointed out very dramatically. “Every single one, I swear Sierra wouldn’t have guessed one.”

“Sierra has bad taste in music,” you pointed out. “I love her, but really, but she’s got great taste in cookies so she’ll love this.”

Because you knew him. Sierra dated him but you knew him. And sometimes you wondered how Sierra couldn’t really see his magic.

You couldn’t stop thinking about it, back then, how you fit so well together. How your laugh would synchronize with his and how every single joke he’d make, no matter how stupid, was funny to you. The way you’d try to hide some smiles, and how the tension would be broken when she arrived. She whom he loved.

A usual friend. Should’ve remained as friends. You still were. You felt dirty each time they looked at each other, it hurt, so much. And they talked too cute, and they were always adorable.

You had to stop thinking about him.

Except you loved him, and you had realized it, that one time, around Christmas, one of those Christmas parties that you always had with your friends in which eventually Harry had joined in. You remembered how you got his name in Secret Santa.

Cozy night it was, they were cuddling each other.

You remembered how he had opened it, Love is a Dog From Hell by Charles Bukowski, a book he’d constantly mentioned, a book he loved. He had thanked you and hugged you and it had been the perfect Christmas present.

You knew that.

You saw them, kissing under that mistletoe that he’d jokingly placed on top of them. You wished you were her. Sierra being pretty and lovely. And Sierra having him.

But then he’d decided to give everyone presents, maybe for accepting him on your Christmas party, or whatever he meant. How he was the life in the party, and how he had made you smile.

And everyone got presents, and each of them proved how much he put thoughts into it, because he really wanted to make them. How he had given that one friend some brushes so they could paint, or a new camera to that other one.

You remembered how perfectly unevenly wrapped yours was, with that silly wrapping paper that had little Santas on it. He probably had wrapped it himself, you could see how it was cut, and the tape all over it, with a hand-made bow, so pretty. It felt warm, and it felt like him. You opened it, he told you you could rip it off, and you hadn't, you had so slowly opened it, you still kept that wrapping paper to this day. The Little Prince. As if he was joking with you.

He had only winked at you, probably unaware that he was digging a deeper way into your heart.

And you kept loving him, watching him from afar as they kissed over and over again.

How you’d help her with gifts for him, when his own birthdays came around, like when you told her to give him more rings for his fingers, because you knew him. And how he would share his news with you first because he knew you’d listen.

You wondered if Sierra ever noticed he was more than the guy who had nice clothes, and the guy with that pretty smile. Did she ever stop to listen to his thoughts? Those that came at 2 in the morning. Those you’d been able to listen to at a party, where both of you were away from the crowd as Sierra was partying with some other of your friends.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Harry had asked you, that New Years party. They had kissed at midnight, of course. He had brought his guitar, a new habit that he had earned over the time. You loved every time he sang, raspy and quiet. Over the years he’d sing more and more with you, and less and less with crowds. He thought nobody wanted to listen, you did, you always wanted to listen.

You only looked up to see her, she was. Dancing as the lights were jumping around with her, the music bouncing with her. Harry had his fingers brushing against the strings, barely stroking it, as he was so mesmerized watching Sierra. You always wanted to be seen that way, you never would.

You could never be Sierra, and of course, why would Harry ever turn to love someone like you? When Sierra was so perfect and lovely.

You’d never say anything, maybe Sierra did notice. But she trusted you.

“Yeah,” you had answered. You had been cold.

He could tell, you knew that.

“You’re cold,” he pointed out matter-of-factly.

“I am,” you admitted. “Tis cold, though.”

“You’re never cold, though,” he pointed out.

“I am today.”

“I’m not cold,” he had said. “Want my jacket?”

And he had given it to you, and Sierra had seen it. And she didn’t mind. Because Sierra trusted you, and she trusted him.

So she didn’t mind when Harry had taken your hand to shove you into the dancefloor with him. Sierra had said it once: ‘he sees you as a best friend, I think he’s claiming you’.

And you remembered being silly while dancing with him, how he put his hands in fists and shook them in front of his chest, giggling to himself, and gave you that damned smile. And by then by that time you aready had your own way with him, always singing to each other, being stupid really.

Heroes by Bowie was playing, a song he loved, and you did too.

“Just for one day.”

You still thought it was your song.

And though you were the one to wear the sweater, she’d be the one to go home with him. So in love. It didn’t matter.

But life goes on, the birds sing, the sun keeps rising.

It had been a long time since you thought of him that way, he was just one more, another broken heart. And you knew it, that life does not stop, she did not either. And crying for a love that never had a chance to be sounds foolish, insensitive and useless.

At some point you did move on. Because you had to, and you wanted it to pass but then it would always come, how he’d smile at you and you’d think of it, the start that one time when you should’ve done something.

And it was weird listening to Sierra talk about him, she was so desperately in love with him. That’s what mattered, they made each other happy. And so, so happy. And though it hurt, you knew it had to be that way.

You were the one to listen to both of them, whenever they had a small fight or whatever, both sides. You usually agreed with both, honestly, but always took Sierra’s side. She was your best friend, after all.

And you couldn’t tell the world that he made you oh so happy, and you new Sierra probably didn’t even think of it, because you weren’t obvious and you had dates of your own, you dated other people of course, but you always ended up wondering what would happen between you and Harry.

It probably didn’t ever occur to Sierra. Not to Harry either, probably. Because everything was so platonic. Like when he picked you up in the middle of the night just because he wanted to drive around the city, whenever him and Sierra had a fight and he needed to understand her and he knew that the way to understand her was through you. And you’d end up sitting on the trunk of his car, watching the stars, listening to him, making him laugh until the sun was rising.

You knew everything about him, meaning behind every single tattoo, favorite movie, favorite song. You always had to stop yourself, so patient, but sometimes you couldn’t help it, your hand would brush his hair and you’d think about it, if you could only kiss him. Would it feel the way you dreamed of it?

An indentation between you and him, always stepping back. But then he’d smile at you and you’d want to close it. Please, please, please, just once. How would it feel? To seal the notch, close the gap.

And once it had happened. Nothing serious, really. A few years ago, around spring, nothing serious. Not at all. It was an accident.

Really was, of course.

Harry had been excited about Spring, and Sierra always said that whenever spring came around love was in the air, and Harry wanted to plan out a picnic for Sierra so of course he asked for your help.

It had been so stupid, an accident. He had asked you to go to the supermarket with him, and you were prancing around, laughing and having fun. He was always so sweet when it came to be so domestic. He was singing in the hallways as he was choosing the pastries, picking out the wine.

“Something in the way she moves,” he sang along to the song, hand movements as he reached out for a feeling with his hand, exaggerated movements as he threw his head back.

“The Beatles,” you said, matter of factly. But you knew the Beatles weren’t singing that version. It didn’t feel like a usual supermarket song, but he was moving his head and singing.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “However, they’re not the-”

“Not the ones singing, I know, that’s a woman,” you answered before he could fight back.

He giggled, “Yea, this is Phyllis Dillon,” he pointed out. “Such a song. I’m impressed, y/n, you didn’t know her.”

“Didn’t, now I do,” you grinned. “Unusual song for the supermarket.”

He watched you, tiredly with that bright smile that could light up the entire world. Sunlight.

“This is going to sound rude,” he said.

You raised your brows at him.

“But like, if Sierra and I ever break up who’s gonna keep you?” He joked.

You had laughed. “Like a dog?”

He scrunched his nose. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Oh, I’m most certain you did,” you teased.

“Did not.”

“Well I don’t think you guys will break up,” you had said, and you had meant it, because you really didn’t want them to. He made your best friend happy and your best friend made him happy. All that matters.

He smiled, “you think?”

“Yeah, I’m making sure you don’t,” you winked at him. “Also, that wine, Harold?” You asked before putting it back and choosing a better one.

“Thanks for helping me,” he had said. “Y’er always such a good friend.”

“Just making sure everything is—“

“Perfect for Sierra, I kno’,” he smirked. “And you always make sure tis perfect for me too.”

You grinned. “I'm the mastermind behind the relationship.”

And the problem was he had leaned over to kiss your cheek, you guessed in an attempt to thank you for being a friend, but it had been an accident or maybe you had turned to him, subconsciously longing for your lips to meet his. Barely a peck. Yet it had felt… electric. As if a lightning had just struck you.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

And he had backed away.

Had he felt it? That buzzing and flickering spark? That thunder You’d kissed.

In a grocery store. Planking a picnic for his girlfriend. Your best friend. This was wrong.

“I’m—sorry,” both of you had said at the unison.

“I—was going to—“

“I didn’t know—“

But both of you knew it had been four seconds. It’s funny, someone had once taught you to count the seconds between thunders and lighting. In thunderstorms, you count the seconds in between the lightning and thunder, the more you counted the furthest the lightning had struck. 5 seconds equals 1 mile.

In matters of the heart, and considering this situation. The more you counted, the closer you were. 4 seconds had been until he had pulled away.

4 stupid seconds.

Could mean a lot of things, could mean nothing.

Harry and you had stopped talking for a while after it happened. Neither of you told Sierra, but she had noticed you were avoiding her boyfriend which brought her to doubt him. No she didn’t think you had kissed. She thought you had fought or whatever she had come up with.

“Don’t you like Harry anymore? Why are you not hanging out with us anymore?” She had asked you.

“Maybe I don’t want to third-wheel anymore,” you snapped. “Enjoy your boyfriend, Sierra. I don’t have to be around twenty four seven.”

That’s when the problems had started. Not between you and Sierra, but him and Sierra. It was no secret you had been the “mastermind” behind their relationship. But you had walked out of there. However it had been coincidental, or so you told yourself. It didn’t really have much to do with you walking out.

Or had it?

You had guessed you’d feel that way each night, with the light of your phone illuminating your face while the dark room paled your tears. You’d see his initial on the screen, and doubt if calling was a choice. He was never a talker, really. He barely liked to speak up. He was more of...actions. So whenever he didn’t do anything, you knew something was up. He wasn’t... really, he wasn’t like this.

At least a text but he didn’t like texting. Nothing. His silent treatments were like others. The ‘H’ is silent, you thought to yourself.

Funny.

Sierra had mentioned he had been distanced. It was around the time you started dating Daniel. Danny.

And you saw Sierra arguing over and over through the phone, and coming back crying to your shared apartment. Giving her your shoulder to cry on.

She said that Harry had told her he wasn’t sure about it.

Which led to the first breakup.

One that didn’t really last. But you remembered it perfectly, you were at a museum, date with Danny. Nice, romantic.

And then you’d received a call, Harry. He hadn’t called you in a while and you weren’t sure why he had called you.

You had looked down at the caller ID. He wasn’t a texter, you knew that, but—you answered the phone.

“Hello? Harry?” You answered, with fear.

Danny hadn’t questioned you.

“Sierra and I broke up,” he stated.

You felt cold. “Oh.” Your first instinct had been to call your friend. See if she was okay.

“I—“he sighed. “I… can I see you?”

“I—sure but—“

“Okay, I’ll pick you up in ten,” he said. “Please don’t—“

“Oh, Harry I’m on a date right now.”

“You—what?”

“Yes I’m here with Danny,” you had said. “On a date.”

He had gone quiet, dangerously quiet.

“But-I’ll call you when I get home, alright?”

“Yeah.”

When you got home, Sierra had her door locked and didn’t want to talk to you.

“I need some time alone.”

And you had called Harry but he hadn’t answered.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four calls until he answered. Before you knew it, you were with him, driving again, he liked to drive, you knew that. To watch a sunset. As they said in The Little Prince, you see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad.

And he was sad, and he was quiet. ‘Could it Be Another Chance’ by The Samples was playing in the background.

“I guess Sierra told you,” he had said, gulping.

“She didn’t,” you said.

He hadn’t dared to look at you. It felt weird, you hadn’t talked to him a while and seeing him standing there with tears wanting to come down.

He coughed. “Well.”

“What happened?” You didn’t know.

He hadn’t answered, and there was that usual frown upon his face, thoughtful, very thoughtful and dark if he wanted it to be. He was sad or disappointed. You didn’t blame him, of course, breakups are hard enough.

“Dunno,” he admitted. Endless nightmare when he didn’t actually say what he wanted to. He actually had that habit, but he usually showed it, with his eyes.

“Then?”

“Are you afraid of me, y/n?” He blurted out the question.

“Why would I?”

“Not in the--scary way,” he said quickly. “But in the way that we both know each other,” he said. “The way that it feels off.”

“I’ve never felt off with you,” you admitted.

“That’s the thing,” he sighed. “That’s the thing,” he repeated. “I don’t get it,” he said.

“Did you feel off with Sierra?” You asked.

He didn’t answer. Maybe he should’ve.

“We haven’t talked for a while so I have no inkling on where you were standing,” you admitted. “Not from Sierra’s perspective, either.”

He shook his head. “That’s the thing,” he said for the third time. “That’s the thing.”

He had only turned the music louder, and sang along to it.

“Danny, then?” He asked eventually. “Danny?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“And do you feel off with him?” He asked.

“I don’t.”

He had clenched his jaw. “Is it going anywhere?” He asked. “Or is it like any other guy you’ve dated?”

“No.”

“You like him, right?” He asked.

You smiled, slightly, feeling warm on your cheeks. “I-”

“When someone blushes, doesn't that mean 'yes’?” He asked.

You didn’t answer.

“I’m just, I’ve been wondering I’ve always wanted to feel with Sierra the same way I feel with you,” he had said. “Not in-”

“Harry that’s-”

“Sounds mental, doesn’t it?” He sighed. “To want a friend in someone you love.”

“Someone you love should be a friend,” you said. “But I…”

“Did you ever wonder about it?”

“About what?”

He shrugged. “If that night I had ran into Wednesday instead of Pugsley.”

“You did run into me,” you pointed out. “It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Yeah, could’ve been.”

But it had you thinking. Maybe it had been stupid, but you had broken up with Danny after a few weeks of thought. Or maybe led Danny to break up with you because you had been off. And it had felt off, and it hadn’t but with one simple question Harry had made, it had you thinking.

And maybe it was stupid to think that now that Harry and Sierra had broken up you could simply get your shot, but he had been the one to say it, hadn’t he?

Shooting stars are chances. And he was one and you hadn't taken it.

Just after you’d walk in to your apartment with Sierra, you’d seen them kissing again. They were back together.

So there was your chance, gone again but then again it was stupid to think that you could get a shot, besides it was Sierra’s boyfriend.

Yes, heartbroken you were.

And it continued, for a long while. They were fine again and you had to be quiet again. Halloween, Spring, New Years, Christmas, Birthdays, parties, every single season they were there. All the time. And they were fine. For most of the time, other times not so much, and the second, and third breakup came around. Yet, they always got back together, even with all the fighting and yelling which you never understood, not really. Why would anyone stay in a relationship like that?

You guessed that at the end of the day they still loved each other, and their fights were simply stupid and they always, always, always got over them. You didn’t, you remembered them yelling and fighting and just searching for an excuse to stay together, and then they’d kiss and forget it and they’d be calmed.

It still ached, to have him around nd think of the stupid ‘what if’ that would certainly never come because even if you were given the chance, you’d never take it because Sierra was and would always be your best friend.

Did she know? Had she seen it? The way your world stopped when Harry was around? How you’d make time for him or how whenever he was around you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Your bright and true smile, and how you’d listen to every song he told you to, or how you’d always be there to listen to him, no matter the time.

How you looked away each time they kissed and how you wished you could find someone like him and yet it wouldn’t be enough because it wouldn’t be him. Because his mind was the place where you wanted all your secrets to be hidden. His lips were the only one thing that could make you feel, or so you thought, that could make you get to paradise. His voice was supposed to tell your story, and his ears were meant to listen to you.

Yet, it was Sierra.

Not you.

Sierra.

And Harry would tell her. He loved her, he lived for her, spared his entire life and love for her. And though you knew they weren’t happy, you wondered if you were allowed to tell them. Maybe you were biased, and you did hear them say how they loved each other but then it… You could tell it was off.

The moment you had given up had been barely a few weeks ago, finally given up. You remembered how he had asked for your help.

“I’m picking out a ring, y/n.”

“Another one?” You had chuckled. “You’ll need more fingers, Harold.”

“For Sierra.”

“Oh, she’s not really a ring person-” you had started.

“No, I… y/n I’m asking her to marry me,” he had blurted.

You had paused.

“Seems like it’s time,” he said. “And she’s been hintin’ it. Doesn’t get any better than this.”

It hurt. But you had gone with him.

Walking through the store, seeing rings and rings, jewelry.

“I dunno anything ‘bout marriage,” he admitted. “It’s ironic, I love rings yet this one I can’t seem to know….”

“This one is pretty,” you had pointed out at one.

He had made a face, scrunching his nose. Always making faces.

“Why are you doing this?” You had questioned.

He had looked up at you. He knew why you were asking. Because things hadn’t been right but he probably thought this was the way to make things right, but he probably wanted you to question him. Harry couldn’t be tied, yet this seemed like he was tying himself.

It made you sad, how he had lost what made him oh so beautiful, oh so perfect. His freedom. He was willing to take away his freedom. Not because marriage per se was taking away someone’s freedom but for Harry this particular decision seemed like it was.

He didn’t smile anymore, not that much, he wasn’t as silly.

“She’s my moon,” he had said.

“Yet I remember you were a bigger fan of the stars,” you had called him out.

“The shooting star passed, y/n, this is what’s meant to happen, I lost a shooting star, but I love the moon,” he said. “The moon is meant to be loved.”

“Marriage won’t solve your problems.”

“I know, but it might make me get back to my senses, I’ve spent all these years with her, I love her, that’s it, no other explanation, and that’s--”

“Harry.”

“it is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important,” he quoted.

“Love doesn’t mean wasting time.”

And the conversation had continued and you kept playing it over and over your head, and tried to understand if this was your fault, which you were sure led to the fourth breakup, to the one you probably were witnessing now.

To this day, of you standing with your dirty sneakers, with two options. To offer a shoulder or to finally try and fight for something that probably would never work. To risk everything for once.

Standing with your umbrella, watching him staring at you. Wondering what could’ve happened if it had been Wednesday instead of Pugsley. Wondering what would’ve happened if you kissed him. Wondering what would’ve gone by had you made a wish to that shooting star.

You were willing to do it. Risk it all to count the seconds between the lightning and the thunder.

part two: thunderstorms & shooting stars

part three: stars and fate

I’ll tag some friends who might like this:

@saintlavrents @annathesillyfriend @tanyalooovesyou @harrysrightchelseaboot @harrysleftchelseaboot @wholesomestyles @whatevsholland @eerieharrie @pparkeramorr

#harry styles #golden #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles ff #bl&t

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Lost In Your Current (P.4)

Title: Lost In Your Current (Part Four) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark. After the snap, the team realizes that certain males were given Alpha status and certain females were assigned as Omegas, all across the galaxy, as a way to control procreation. Only Omega can give birth now. Both are marked and their DNA is tied through their marks. Tony lost Pepper and fell into depression after being rescued by Carol. Even the information that he could have happiness again could not pull him out. Until the loneliness and his new Alpha gene got to be too much. When Steve contacts him that his Omega had been found, Tony cannot resist to collect her. Words: 3,057 Warnings (for the whole fic): Dub-con, a/b/o elements, smut, forced mating, 18+ as always Warnings for this chapter: Controlling behavior

Part Three || Part Five || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You ventured out of the closet timidly as the smell of fresh food being cooked downstairs hit your nostrils. Your stomach was rumbling loudly, and you grabbed the throw blanket off the end of the guest bed to wrap yourself up in. You were still bare and even though there was slim chance anyone would be looking through the window, you still felt better with it on.

Sitting down at the table, you watched Tony work. He had sent a glance your way when you padded in, the blanket dragging along the ground as you walked.

It was quiet as he worked, and you sat patiently.

When he put the plate in front of you, your mouth practically watered. Grabbing the fork, you thanked him as you were already bringing a forkful up to your mouth. He took his plate and sat next to you. You slowed down, embarrassed about how much food you had already put away before he even had sat down.

“I’ll get you set up on the streaming accounts so you can watch things,” he started to say. “And if you tell me what books you want, I can have them ordered and delivered here.”

“Okay,” you said quietly, in between bites. You were just going to let him talk; you did not want to ask any questions just yet. You were still feeling him out; you had only been around him for a handful of days before you had fallen into your heat. There was still much to know about his personality, what was expected of you.

He saw you were almost finished, and he picked up his pace to finish his plate with you. As soon as the two of you were finished, he picked up the plates. In the process, his hand brushed over yours and your hair stood on end. There was a fleeting smirk from him – he had done it on purpose, testing you. He was scenting you again and seeing how you would react and you just stared at him, still, waiting to see if he was going to do it again. He gestured for you to give him the fork and you had barely noticed you were still holding it. You held it out and his fingers brushed yours again and you bit at your cheeks.

Tony was proving to also be testing the boundaries with you.

Dropping the plates in the sink, he turned back to you, “You need to shower. So do I. Come.”

You got up obediently, holding the blanket still tight around you. You followed him upstairs into the master bathroom and your eyes widened at the large tub. There was a waterfall shower in the corner, complete with what looked like jets for a massage, and a detachable shower head too.

Tony called out as he went to one of the tall cabinets, “FRIDAY, run the jacuzzi.”

The water in the tub began running, startling you. What the hell was FRIDAY? You should not be surprised about the technology in this cabin though, it was Tony’s after all.

Tony came back with body gel, shampoo, and conditioner, a brand you did not recognize. He placed them besides the tub as you asked, “Who’s FRIDAY?”

“The AI system that runs the house,” he answered. “I need to program her to respond to simple commands from you. Lights on, lights off, run the shower, you know, simple.”

His hands were on you as you stood staring at the bath filling up. He pulled the blanket from you, tossing it onto the floor a bit away. With you bare again, his hands fell to your sides, and your breath quickened. His fingers were gentle as they traced over your skin, dipping as your body curved. His bare chest pressed against your back, and you barely held back a soft moan. His scent was clouding you and you were acutely aware you were slipping under its influence. You tried to move away as it became too much but he stopped you firmly.

“Omega, I told you that you need to shower.”

“T-that’s a bath,” you pointed out weakly.

“That it is. Fine, you need to bathe. Is that better, love?”

“But—”

“Quiet, Omega,” Tony cut in impatiently and you felt compelled to follow his order, despite the anxiousness he was igniting with all his touching. He meant to bathe with you. And you were still coming down from your heat. He could stoke the fire again and maybe that is what he wanted to do. Alphas you had heard were notorious for squeezing as much out of an Omega during their heats. “Get into the tub. Leave me room.”

Sinking into the water, you held yourself close as the water turned off, the tub full. Tony pulled his boxers off and followed you in, settling down behind you.

He was gentle, using his hands to rub away at your shoulders and down your chest. You felt calmed with him washing away the remnants of the last few days away from you. Alpha was taking care of you like he should. And you could not deny a good scalp massage was sorely needed, further relaxing you.

Tony pulled you in between his legs and you leaned back against his chest. His fingers trailed down your stomach and to the apex of your sex. Relaxation dissolving in a moment, you clenched tight, and he sensed your tension. He only slipped a single finger in between your folds instead of the two that had been sliding down. You mewled and he kissed softly at your ear. The one finger circling your clit.

“Knees up, precious,” he ordered. You did as he asked, and he added a second finger, delving deeper.

Your pussy was sensitive after the last few days, but his touch set you alight, and you shuddered against his touch. Tony hummed in approval, caressing at your nub. You began rocking your hips, trying to increase the contact. Tony tsked you, nipping at your ear and you let out a disappointed whine. He was working you back up and you were just focused on getting more. You wanted him inside you.

“There are gonna be rules and you just need to follow them. You get to stay here. With me. Safe. Loved.” His free hand came up to touch your stomach. “Hopefully become round sooner rather than later…”

“Alpha…” the thought of that sending you even further down the spiral.

His fingers entered you and he kissed at your cheek, vowing in a whisper, “I’ll keep you safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

<><><>

The front porch creaked, and you thumbed the page of your book, calm, thinking it was Tony coming back inside. But then there were a second pair of footsteps and hushed tones. You froze. There was a loud knock on the front door, and you sat up in alarm. Your book dropped to the floor as you got up quickly. Who was here? No one had come here in the weeks you had been here. And Tony had not told you anyone was coming. The hair on your arms was on end at potential danger.

Thankfully, the blinds were drawn on the living room window. You could not go up the stairs though because that was by the front door and the person – whoever they were – would most certainly see you since the door was open, letting the fresh air come through the screen. Tony was outside getting the boat prepped. He was going to take you out on the lake with him while he fished.

Another loud knock came, and you hesitated. The cabin was out in the middle of nowhere. And if someone was knocking… that was a good sign, right? If someone meant harm, they would not take the time to knock.

Tony had told you specifically to not answer the door though.

But… you were curious. You had not seen anyone else for weeks. Your bond tugged at you, jostling deep inside as you turned back towards the door, considering to ignore your Alpha’s direct order. The bond was warning you to be good. But…

<><><>

Outside the cabin, Carol peered in through the window, scanning the front room.

She shrugged, looking back at Natasha. “There’s no one inside that I can see from this window.”

“Well, he’s obviously here if the door is open and his car is here.”

“Maybe they’re upstairs…?” Carol said, hinting at the bedroom activities they were sure Tony would be engaging Y/N in if he had not already.

Natasha exhaled sharply, turning from the door, and going back towards the stairs. She spotted the boat house and also the large shop on the property. He could be in there as well. She sure as hell was not going to be entering his cabin without his permission for fear he had not mated Y/N yet. Or if he had mated her and Y/N was pregnant. Even if she was Beta, he would be threatened by her presence, especially without being invited.

Just as she stepped onto the gravel, she heard Carol behind her say, “Oh, Y/N. Hey.” Natasha stopped on a dime and whirled around on her heel. “Remember me?”

There she was behind the screen door. She looked healthy enough, like she had been eating and drinking enough. But she was timid, not opening the screen door. She still wanted that barrier between her and Carol.

Y/N must have answered Carol, but so quiet Natasha could not hear as she approached because Carol asked, “That’s good. I hope I’m not forgettable. Where’s Tony?”

<><><>

You eyed Natasha as she came back up onto the wrap around porch and looked back at Carol, answering, “In the boathouse. He was getting it ready to take it out for lunch.”

Noticing that both of them had stolen a glance at your exposed shoulder, you shifted uncomfortably. You knew they had been seeing if you had been mated. That was apparent in your tank top; there was no hiding the mark at the base of your neck.

They both acted unperturbed by it though, carrying on with pleasantries.

“Tony fishing. That’s something I wouldn’t expect to be happening,” Natasha chimed in, giving a small smile. “But times have changed.” She looked over her shoulder towards the boat house and she asked you, “Mind if we go out there to talk to him?”

She was… asking you for permission?

You shrugged in response, “Yeah, that’s okay.”

“You wanna come with us?” Carol offered. She was trying really hard to be friendly and gentle, and you appreciated it.

But you shook your head immediately, “I’m not allowed outside without Alpha.” You had already broken one of his rules by answering the door, there was no need to press your luck.

“Even on your own property?” Natasha asked before she could stop herself it seemed.

Carol gave her a vexed look, chastising her with her eyes. Natasha cleared her throat sheepishly before tossing another look to the boathouse. You knew it was silly and what she said was right. You wanted to go outside on your own, lay down in the grass. But Tony did not completely trust you on your own yet; you feared he never would, especially if you were pregnant. That would make him all the more overprotective.

“Well, looks like I won’t have to stretch my legs,” Natasha commented, and you peered between the pair of them trying to follow her gaze. “He’s coming to us.”

You could not see him, but you could sense him, the irritation rattling your bond. He was displeased and you could think of a handful of reasons why. You had hoped they would have gone to find him before he realized they were here but there were a lot of windows on the boathouse that had a clear view of the front porch.

“Tony,” Carol called out in greeting about the time you were able to see him coming up the path.

As he came up the stairs, Tony was staring you down and you sunk back into yourself.

Natasha and Carol could sense the tension and they both took a step back away from the door and subsequently away from you. The movement did not go unnoticed by him, his eyes following their shift.

“Tony, afternoon. We were just checking in to see how it was going. You know we have to,” Natasha told him calmly.

Tony’s stare was piercing you, and you averted your eyes, not wanting to challenge him with direct eye contact. “Well, it’s apparently not going without bumps. Y/N, I told you specifically to not answer the damn door!”

“I’m sorry,” you said timidly, flinching at him swearing at you.

“I don’t care if you’re sorry. You’re supposed to do what you’re told!” He snapped his fingers, pointing back behind you and ordered, “Go make lunch. Now!”

You refrained from mentioning that you had already done that, wanting to be ready whenever he came to fetch you to go out on the water. You left the door and decided you might as well make extra sandwiches for the two women to busy yourself and be hospitable.

<><><>

When Tony turned his attention back to Natasha and Carol after Y/N had retreated back into the cabin from view, he was met with a dispassionate look from Carol but Natasha on the other hand, she looked miffed.

“Can I help you with something?” Tony asked dryly.

“We’re here to check up.”

“And?”

“And… discuss something.”

Tony wagged his finger, “There’s always a catch. Well, lay it on me. And do it quick. Y/N and I are going out on the lake for lunch.”

Carol cut right to the chase, “There’s talk about either taking samples from Omega—” That already was setting Tony on edge, that was clear as day in his expression and tense body. “To try to figure out if there can be a cure given to people who should be able to have children and can’t.”

“Absolutely not,” Tony said immediately. His tone was firm.

“Or,” Carol continued ignoring his outburst. “They want to use Omegas as surrogates.”

A muscle in Tony’s jaw twitched at that, his eyes hard.

“There’s talk of it. High up in the government,” Natasha added. “Thought we would come talk to you about it.”

“For?” Tony spat. His brow pinched a split second before he gave them a belittling laugh. “Wait, did you two think I was going to agree to this? That’s what you wanted to come ‘talk to’ me about? Giving Y/N up to the government?”

“You won’t be giving her up—”

Tony cut in forcibly, “This is not even a conversation. I don’t know what two think you’re playing at.”

Natasha countered quickly, “You always were advocating for protecting Earth.”

“And it is protected. What’s not protected here?”

“Tony.”

“What? We took a stance and we got royally railed. Bent all the way over the table. I almost died in space. Did you forget that?”

“No, I didn’t for—”

“So many people died. Just… disappeared out of existence! Blink of an eye. Well, Thanos got what he wanted and he’s dead now! Earth is going on and there are no more threats from up above. Everyone’s too busy reeling with what happened themselves on their own planets to even care about trying to come here. No, we’re doing fine. I mean, maybe the US government isn’t doing fine which is no new news there. But we are fine”

Carol tried to persuade him now, “We aren’t fine. People are grieving everywhere, and people want to be able to have children again to bring some sense of happiness into their lives and they can’t. So—"

“You’re not taking her,” Tony spat defensively.

“I’m not asking to do that,” Carol said, standing her ground despite Tony’s aggressive stance and the wild look in his eyes.

“Then what is it you’re asking?” Tony asked, his tone dripping with condescension. “Cause that’s sure as hell what it sounds like.”

“I’m asking you to consider the possibility in the future—”

“And I’m telling you, not gonna happen,” Tony declared, cutting her off.

“I thought you were insufferable before,” Natasha scoffed, completely done with how quickly he had become pugnacious at the mere mention of anyone else laying a finger on Y/N.

Tony fixated his death glare on her now and sneered, “I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

Carol cleared her throat and said, “Fine, we’ll leave.” She almost turned but implored him once more, “Just keep that on your mind that it’s being spoken about in the government.”

“So, maybe you should do it on your own accord, Tony, before someone forces you to. Because I know how much you love being told what to do,” Natasha quipped coldly as she did begin to walk off. Carol followed her.

“Tell me. Did Cap agree to it?” Tony called out after them, taunting. Natasha and Carol both refused to answer which was answer enough and Tony let out a wry laugh. “That’s what I thought. You two are nuts.”

Natasha slammed the car door so hard, Carol was worried it was going to fall off when she tried to open it to get out. Natasha glared at Tony through the windshield. He was still standing on the porch, pacing slowly, eyes right back on her. He was making sure they were really going to leave.

Shaking her head, Carol turned the car on and said disappointed, “I thought this would be easier.”

“I didn’t. I expected to want to knock his head off his shoulders. Just like Steve. And any other Alpha we are going to talk to about it. It’s going to be futile to convince any of them to let their Omega carry another person’s child.”

“Well, let’s hope we find others that are more open. Because I don’t want this becoming a mandated thing from the government. Things will really get ugly then. I’ve read Handmaid’s Tale,” Carol sighed as she backed out of the driveway.

Tony and Natasha kept eyes on each other until Carol turned the car around and started driving back down the long driveway towards the main road.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl

#tony stark x reader #dark!tony stark #dark tony stark #dark marvel #my shit

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nkogneatho · 3 years

Text

ONLY IF YOU KNEW- Gojo x gn!reader

Masterlist

A/n: This is the first serving of my Pasi's April Angst week. Hope you like it.

TAGLIST IS OPEN.

Prompt no: 2. First kiss + 9."Only if you knew how much you meant to me"+ 28. Y/n is drunk.

Requested by anon

I was walking down the same street we used to. It felt so empty even with all those people around. How can they move on so easily? But again. It's not their fault.

Memories came rushing down in my head when I glanced up at the bar we used to go. What a lovely coincidence? I feel like drinking my pain away and here I see our bar, I thought.

Lovely coincidence? More like a tragic one when my eyes witnessed them. Dressed casually, drink in one hand, holding hairs in another.

They didn't seem to be themselves when I mustered up the courage and seated beside them.

"HIE", a loud and high pitched voice greeted me. I never thought they will ever propose the conversation first after what we have been through.

"Hello", I greeted them back.

"I am y/n. Nice to meet you", seemed like they didn't remember me in that half conciousness. Was I that forgettable Y/n?

"I-.......I am Satoru. Nice to meet you too", I wanted to lie about my name but I didn't. Maybe we can clear the doubts if they remembered me.

"Satoru.....that's a nice name. Although I hate it", they rolled their eyes.

"Why?"

"My ex had the same name. And I DESPISE HIM WITH ALL MY HEART", my heart stopped for a couple of seconds. I know it's valid for them to hate me. I wanted to know their point of view though. "You hate him that much?"

"Asshole left me. And the worsts part......didn't even tell me the reason", their hands moved, stirred the ice and the drink. "I am sure he left me for that Shoko chic. I saw them together, crying, holding hands and hugging the day at the party", an ironic chuckle left my mouth. Funny how I was just discussing with her that how will I propose to the person in front of me.

"Maybe he had a crucial reason", I tried to defend myself, even there was nothing left.

"Then he could have told me. It's not like I wouldn't have understood. I was understanding when he got his nipples pierced. Why wouldn't I be in this?", I was embarrassed when the bartender heard it and laughed. Worst part? He knew we both dated and used to come here and THE SATORU they was talking about was actually me.

"What are you laughing at? He is MY ex. and there's nothing funny in that", they almost picked a fight him.

"Sorry sorry. My bad madam/sir. I was just laughing at something else", I knew what it was.

I had my eyes closed when I stirred the drink, sipping down it my throat just when I heard them mumbling.

I looked. Head resting on the counter, hairs ruffled, hands never left the glass.

When I proceeded to take the drink away y/n's hand, my ears heard it. Them mumbling curses at me. But it wasn't for the hatred that I left them. It was the concern.

"You stupid! Dumbass. Asshole. I would have made you stay with all my heart if I- if I knew you would flee away without telling me", I saw a tear dropping from their eyes, following the other and then the wooden plank.

"I hate you Sato. I hate you. But I love you", they gritted their teeth, forehead covered in wrinkles, I could clearly see their pain too. My heart skipped a beat when I heard that name. No when except them called me Sato

"I love you too. I had to do what I did Baby. Only if you knew how much you meant to me", I wish they knew.

Their face was so peaceful, why wouldn't it be? They just cried themself to sleep.

"You look so pretty. Prettier than when I used to get to see this evey night", I whispered. Maybe it was the pain of not getting to see the same, calmed sleeping face again.

"Remember, our first kiss.", I felt nostalgic for some reason even if there was none. "Right here in this bar. You were trying to ignore your ex and then stumbled into me. My drink ruined your dress but you didn't complain. Instead pulled me into a kiss.", I chuckled. It was funny. It still is.

"《Sorry. But I am dating him》, you said with all that sassy look. I was surprised. Why wouldn't I be when a stranger comes up to me and just declare that we're dating. But you later explained and apologized", their hairs started sticking to their skin, covering their eyes too. I slowly tucked them behind their ears.

"As much as I hate myself for leaving you because of my family matters, I am still glad that we met. You're perfect. You made me worthy.", I mumbled, trying to swallow the ache.

"Stay. Please Sato", they fisted their hands, shedding thick tears. So did mine. Seeing they wanted me to stay. But things had changed. I hurted thema lot and they didn't deserve any of that. So I left. Forever. Never went back there.

Y/n. I will always love you. You deserve so much more. I hope you've found the right person by now.

Taglist: @httpsukuna

201 notes · View notes

h2bakugou · 3 years

Note

Hey, I saw requests were open and got realll excited I wondering if you could do a little angsty/fluffy scenario for Bakugou where it's his s/o's birthday and him and the class starts ignoring her but their actually trying to surprise her?

a/n: hiya!! awe this is super cute and soft, and i think it’s time to break out soft bakugou again, skfjdskf thank you for the request hun!!

summary: with your birthday coming up, you half expected bakugou to at least send you a text but when it seems like the entire class is constantly avoiding you, you can’t help but feel a little bummed out, that is until...

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, some angst

word count: 1.8k

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

Waking up the day before your birthday was always a little nerve-wracking. You were a little anxious to see if anyone would notice. It wasn’t like you expected a big grand celebration, but you’d been stressing, even a little upset since you asked Bakugou if he would be free the day of, to which he declined.

You were almost certain he knew of your birthday, you know you've at least mentioned it a few times to him, and his mom, who has stated multiple times that she wants to have you over for cake or whatever you’d prefer the weekend of your birthday.

You were about ready to just go celebrate with Bakugou’s parents since they seemed to be the only ones who remembered, the text that had come through earlier in the morning furthering your proof of Mitsuki’s knowledge on your date of birth.

What stung a little more than the fact that Bakugou hadn’t even acknowledged the fact that your birthday was tomorrow, was the way he didn’t even think it was within the week, or even the month.

You wouldn’t have been nearly as upset if maybe he’d guessed the date wrong, but now things were just starting to make you feel upset.

It didn’t feel like something you should be so upset over. You felt a little selfish, wondering why something so small, such as acknowledgment of your birthday from your boyfriend, was bothering you so much.

Deep down, however, you were excited. For your birthday. And the warm feeling of birthday wishes, from anyone, especially your significant other, always felt ten times warm and fuzzier inside.

But you trudged on, went to class, and tried your best to keep a smile on your face. Even during lunch, Kaminari, who seemed to do nothing but run his mouth, was quiet.

Everyone was. It felt, strange.

And now, you were wondering if maybe it was something deeper. Had something changed during the week? Were you not caught up? Why did it feel like everyone at your lunch table despised you, Bakugou leading the group as he barely even looked at you when he was sitting right beside you.

But when the day was over, you didn’t even bother sitting in the commons until most everyone went to bed. You finished your homework early and sat in your dorm, trying to cheer yourself up.

And as the clock passed midnight, you wished yourself a lousy happy birthday before tucking yourself into bed.

Nothing prepared you for what was to come when you woke up.

The ear-deafening alarm on your phone woke you up to nothing. A blank screen. One single notification about a software update on your phone. You hadn’t expected your parents to text you this early, they were probably still in bed.

Their messages came in around the time classes started.

But getting dressed and meeting up with Bakugou, you tried your best to hold your head up high.

“Hey ‘Suki.” You smiled, standing beside him as he slung his bag over his shoulder, getting ready to leave the dorms to head to school.

“Hey.” Was all he said. You nodded and sighed, staring at the ground.

“Today’s gonna be a fun day, don’t ‘cha think?” You tried to hint at the topic but nothing seemed to give.

“What, you think tests in algebra are fun?” It was like a slash to your heart.

“No, it’s my birthday.” You whispered, gathering your things and walking away, walking straight out the door to the school.

Bakugou’s heart stung. In truth, he’d arranged a whole party for you. Everyone was kind of shocked to hear the words ‘I need your help’ come from his tight lips.

He was flustered and trying not to kill Kaminari who was already making fun of him. But he’d arranged the whole thing, planning it out down to a t.

He’d asked for everyone, especially Kaminari not to say anything about it, and he didn’t think much of it. But now his heart hurt, watching you fight back tears as you felt like he’d forgotten, as if everyone had forgotten.

Bakugou wanted to chase you down, pull you into a kiss, and wish you happy birthday, but he didn’t. The surprise would be coming up soon enough.

Sato presented the cake he’d made the night before and everyone was shocked to see how beautiful it looked.

“Oh, she’s gonna love it!” Mina cheered, helping the class pull out some of the decorations.

They’d be tasked with putting up decorations during lunch and after classes let out when Bakugou would keep you in the library for at least another hour.

Bakugou would make it up to you in the end if you still felt upset. But he was counting on this being the best damn birthday surprise, especially since he thought of it.

You were the first one to class. Slumped in your seat, you noticed Present Mic walk in.

“Happy birthday! Would you like a super awesome birthday track played on my show tonight?” Mic was genuinely surprised to see you break down crying after saying something so happy.

“You’re the first person to tell me happy birthday today.” You wiped your eyes, embarrassed to be sappy in front of your teacher.

“Oh, well then an extra special happy birthday! If you’ve got a song you’d like to play, just stop on by the studio!” Mic smile before exiting. You couldn’t think of a song you’d want to broadcast to the entire school on Mic’s radio show but if something came to mind you might just have to stop by, he seemed like he could be pretty fun to party with, if maybe he weren’t your teacher.

The thought of spending your birthday moping alone with one of your teachers didn’t sound at all like the dream you’d had about today.

No, you wanted to be hand-in-hand with your boyfriend talking a walk through a pretty park, or stargazing under the night sky, or spending time at some sort of amusement center with your class, having fun.

But as students piled into the classroom, not a single happy birthday left any of them.

Not even Bakugou who now knew.

Getting through class was about as fun as watching paint dry. But when it was done, everyone rushed out, leaving you confused.

“Where is everyone going?” You asked, stopped by Bakugou who’s hand landed over yours on the top of your desk.

“Hell if I know.” He stared down at you, books in hand.

“You don’t wanna go with them?” You looked away, pulling your hand out from under his.

“Don’t tell me you already forgot.” You mumbled. Bakugou tugged you along to the library, silent the entire way.

Sitting across from him, you didn’t even have a clue as to why you were here, but not even thirty minutes later you were being tugged right back to the dorms.

“What’s your problem?” You stop, about three minutes away from the dorm.

“Huh? The fuck are you talkin’ about?” Bakugou stopped, his hands slung in his pants pockets.

“It’s my birthday Katsuki. And I told you that earlier, and you couldn’t even remember for a couple of hours? Am I that forgettable to you?” You sniffled, staring at him as your eyes began to sting with tears.

“I was busy. Had to focus for all that work.”

“And you still avoid saying it! I just, I just wanted to hear it from you. Is it so selfish of me that I just want to hear my boyfriend tell me happy birthday?” You felt like digging a hole and crawling into it.

With shut eyes, squeezed so tight so you couldn’t see anything, you felt a hand land in yours, fingers intertwining with yours.

A finger under your chin lifted your head up, tear-stained cheeks and all, and a warm pair of cinnamon-tasting lips landed on yours.

“I never forgot, dumbass. I just wanted today to be special.” Bakugou whispered against your lips. Suddenly his free hand landed over your eyes as he tugged you along, your hands now gripping at his arm.

“Hey! Wait, what’s going on?!” You shrieked, confused as you moved unconsciously.

“Just hush for five seconds.” Bakugou sighed, pulling you up to the dorms, shoving you inside.

Removing his hand, Bakugou landed his hand on your shoulder and your eyes opened.

Your once rapidly spinning world was now standing still.

“Happy birthday!!” Your peers cheered. Familiar faces of your classmates, friends from Class 1-B, the Big Three, Eri, even Mr. Aizawa, and All Might were standing there in cheesy party hats.

“Wait...” You sniffled harder, tears now pouring from your eyes.

"Ah, don’t cry, idiot!” Bakugou shook your shoulders from behind you.

“I thought you all forgot! How could I not cry?!” You wiped your eyes with both of your hands, trying not to laugh at yourself.

“You can thank your boyfriend for the party! We were all gonna get you gifts but Bakugou suggested a party!” Kaminari finally blurts out.

“You were all so quiet, because of this party? And it was all your idea?” You turned to Bakugou. He sighed and nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

You gave him a big hug and pressed a cute kiss to his cheek, earning a few ‘awes’ from some of your peers.

“Thank you. Thank you all.” You tried to stop crying, but it felt impossible. Bakugou just nodded, ushering you to go and give some people hugs.

The festivities lasted pretty much all evening, from opening gifts to eating the delicious cake Sato baked for you.

You had a fun time with everyone, and after thanking everyone for the time, you sought after Bakugou on your way back to your dorm with all of your things.

“I’m sorry. For earlier.” You apologized, feeling a bit embarrassed for seemingly going off on him.

“Don’t be. I’m sorry for acting like a dick. I just wanted to surprise you with the best fuckin’ party.” Bakugou’s intentions weren’t vile, and you couldn’t be mad at him. You shook your head and pulled him into your dorm as you set your things down.

“Can we watch a movie together, and cuddle? I think I could take that as an apology.” You smirk.

“I know you’re not mad. But if that’s what you want.” Bakugou gets into his usual position, under your covers, waiting for you to join him. You stood speechless.

“Wh- I went off on you! Of course I was mad- But- I-” You huff and crawl into your bed beside him.

“You’re not still upset is what I’m trying to say, dumbass. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.” Bakugou kissed the top of your head. You snuggled into his side and smiled.

“You really planned that whole party just for me?” You looked up at him as he selected a movie to watch.

“I wouldn’t be the best fucking boyfriend if I didn’t.” He said smugly.

“All for you. And I would do it again.” Bakugou glanced down at you.

“Because you deserve it. I love you.” Bakugou mumbled his ‘I love you’ a little softer, but you heard.

“I love you too.” You lean over and peck his lips, smiling as you snuggle into him, ready to unwind after having so much fun.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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officialtrashbusiness · 3 years

Text

Hidden Gem - Katsuki Bakugou

info : fluff, cursing, gn! reader, ( kinda? )self indulgent , mostly bakugou’s pov

word count: 1889

synopsis: You’re the quiet and forgettable student in class 1-A that is until you tell Katsuki Bakugou to ‘shut the fuck up’.

Amongst the eccentric students of class 1-A, you were a part of the quiet and reserved minority-- including but not limited to: Shoji, Tokoyami and Koda. Compared to your quieter (and shyer) classmates, you were physically plain. You could say the same about your quirk as well. It was not eye catching compared to the heroic and whimsical wonders that were your classmates. If the people outside of class 1-A were to have a sudden fascination with you, they would conclude that you were part of general education-- the much blander courses of UA. These variables formulated a simple conclusion: You were forgettable, and you were fine with that.

So it wasn’t much of a discovery when the infamous firecracker of a blonde had zero fucking clue as to who you were. So much so that when you had uncharacteristically told him to ‘Shut the fuck up’, after some built up tension of one bad examen score and his constant yowling that you had to deal with as you sat in behind him, he was stunned alongside the class of 1-A. His bubbling brain tried to place the crude nickname that he so humbly gave you just like he did with every bumbling idiot in the classroom.

But his brain turned out blank.

His scrutinizing, carmine eyes traced your complexion as he tried to spit up some basic yet negative nicknames for you that are usually attributed to your physical features. He couldn’t find a defining detail that he could dub you with. It fucking irked him.

What the fuck? He thought. Who..

“Who the fuck were you, hah?” Bakugou snarled. His back was slightly hunched as he leaned forward towards you. His fingers slightly curled at his side as if he was threatening to trigger his quirk in the classroom. His pose and threatening scowl were used as tools to intimidate you. The quirk of his lip exposed the canine of his teeth while his hair seemed to bristle with vexing rage.

Kinda like a cat, you inwardly chuckle as you try to ease the trepidation riddling your brain. The unusual amount of eyes on you were unorthodox and felt like a sunburn. The murmurs and giggles amongst the students of class 1-A had turned your brain into mush. You did not mean to say that out loud.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You shot back without thinking.

A howl of laughter makes you jolt as well as the sudden realization that hits you once you have processed what you had said. Bakugou’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before transitioning into a jaw clenching growl. You could see his whole being vibrate with rage.

The class president marches up from the other side of the room. His instincts pull him from his seat as he predicts that Bakugou’s going to have hissy fit with one of the (supposedly) quietest students in class. His sense of responsibility did not want a scorch mark on the walls.. Or on your face.

“Enough, you two!” Iida scolds as he towers over the both of your sitting figures. “We do not tolerate inappropriate language!” His hand slices through the air, ashamed as he has to scold the two students for fowl language. He turns over to the spiky haired blonde, “I expected this kind of behavior from you, Bakugou but (L/--”

“Shut the fuck up, glasses!” Bakugou spat out as his glare was now pointed at the dutiful class president. Iida’s eyes widen behind his glasses with offense. His mouth parts, ready to fire another scolding towards the mouthy blonde. “Quit your fucking nagging! I’m tired of your uptight ass!”

“(L/N),” Sero calls out. His laugh cuts through the argument and grabs your attention. “I never knew you had it in you to tell Bakugou off!” He tilts his head back with laughter.

Kaminari pats a hand on Sero’s shoulder. His body doubled over with snorts and howling. “Yeah!” He snorts before wiping a fake tear away causing Sero to giggle. “We all thought you were shy and stuff! You’re always so quiet!” He points an accusing finger towards Bakugou. “You even got him to shut up for a second! You’re a miracle worker!”

You chuckle before giving the two jokesters a smug smile and shrug, feeling your heart lighten at the sudden praise.

“Shut the fuck up! This nobody didn’t do jack shit, you fucking dumbasses!”He fumed before hearing the chimes of your giggles enter his ear. His ego deflates as his body bristles. He whips his head towards your direction. “What’s so fucking funny, extra?!” He screamed.

“I just didn’t expect you to listen to me.” You smirked.

An unexpected acquaintanceship between you and the two knuckleheads from Bakugou’s group began to slowly form after that-- much to Bakugou’s chagrin and your surprise. They’re stuck to you like a pair of parasites feeding off of you for nutrients, Bakugou mentally grumbled. He instantly knew the relationship between the three was reminiscent of him and the other parasites in his group. You had grown to warm up to the two boys after they relentlessly poked and prodded you, just like Bakugou did-- although, he would be caught dead admitting any positive comments relating to his group.

By the time you had opened up, the rest of the group had followed suit and made friends with you. It was only natural seeing that you have been recruited by one of the two dumbasses of the group. Having two friends from the group, you naturally melded in.

The quiet demeanor you held in front of class seemed to unravel once you had made your home in the sociable group. You had separated yourself from the distant and shy minority and began to feel more secure conversing amongst your fellow classmates. Although you weren’t friends with everyone in the classroom, you had the ability to smile and approach them with ease.

Amongst all of this, Bakugou was the outlier of the classroom. In contrast to everyone, he talked to you even less than before. His pride and embarrassment impelled him to ignore you, in which you did back-- you didn’t have the gall to bother him. Although the communication between the two of you was dead, he would watch you from afar.

Bakugou identified people by physical appearance but never by name. His mind was too busy bustling about becoming the number one hero for him to care about names. He always remembered faces and the different (most of the time negative) facets of people’s appearance, but he didn’t remember yours. He had never seen your face and he couldn’t deem a nickname based off of the quirks of your appearance, and it pissed him right the fuck off.

So, he watched the way you move, the tone of your voice and the way you talked. He watched your hands move as you talk confidently with his little group of stalkers from the corner of his eyes. His ears picked up the loud chime of your laughter and noted your thoughts and opinions as you broadcasted them to the group.

He had noticed that you were honest and straightforward when the time really appreciated it to be. You were a bit opinionated, but held an air of understanding. He wants to laugh at the fact that you’re a little mean hearted despite seeming to always lend a hand when there was any sign of needing one.

You were different from what he perceived. You weren’t some plain wuss of an extra, and he didn’t know what to think of it.

You were a diamond in the ruff, an intruding thought whispers.

Bakugou stomped away after an excruciating match with Todoroki. His usual hunched back was heavier and the trample of his feet was louder than usual. His heavy set growl seemed more menacing as he grumbled out curses. His red eyes glowered at the floor.

He found himself under the shade where the bleachers were. He snatched his plastic bottle from where it resided underestimating the weight as he realized it was empty. He rips out a growl of annoyance before tossing the bottle into the large blue recycling bin near him.

“You want one of mine?” An all too familiar voice called out.

He whipped his upward to see you sitting two benches up. The upper half of your body was slightly hunched as one of your elbows rested on your knee. Your face leans against the heel of your palm that is being supported by your knee. The arm closest to him is extended towards him as it tries to offer him a cool bottle of pocari sweat.

For the second time, he pauses. His eyes blink as he observes your sitting form, trying to slew some sort of nasty nickname at you, but it comes out blank. Your eyes are a bit sleepy from the sun’s beating and the harsh one-on-one between you and one of your classmates. Your expression is relaxed and seems a bit spacey (or maybe a tad bit soft) as you look down at him. Your cheeks look pillowy as the hand against it pushes out a subtle pout from your lips. You let out a soft ‘here’ before tossing the bottle at him, which he snatches from the air effortlessly.

This was his second time directly talking to you, he thinks to himself as he stares down at the bottle. You had only made comments about him, but never talked to him. He starts to wonder if you also observe him from the corner of your eye or listen to his snappy remarks.

“It hasn’t been tinkered with, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He can tell by the tone of your voice that you were joking, so he looks up to see if there’s a sleepy smile on your face. There was one. “I bought an extra one because I noticed that your bottles are always almost empty as soon as the hero's class is over.” You stated honestly.

Bakugou realizes he’s been too quiet, so he tuts and looks away. Your hotheaded classmate reluctantly twists the white cap as the air around his face begins to warm up.

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t need you to be my fucking mom.” He hisses before taking a swig as he tries to avoid the pressuring gaze of your eyes before turning to glare at you as he tightens the lid.

“No need to be embarrassed, Bakugou.” A smug smirk appears on your lips as you chuckle at him. Your sleepy eyes look unintentionally sultry as it accompanies your smirk. It doesn’t help that your relaxed pose enhances the way you. His stomach tightens. “I’m just trying to be nice.”

The flushed blonde reddens even more, realizing that his reaction had been caught red handed. “L-Like hell, I’m fucking embarrased!” He exclaims.

You mirror the wide eyed expression on his face at the realization of his stutter. Your smiles widened as you let out a laugh. It dawns on him as he watches you laugh as to why he couldn’t find a kink in your appearance. The blissed out look on your face as well as the melody of your laughter makes his heart stutter.

You’re fucking beautiful and he hates it.

Please Reblog if you enjoyed it! I might make a part two, but only if y’all tell me to!

#✨👁.writes #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #mha #mha x reader #mha imagine #imagine mha #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero x reader #katsuki bakugou #fluff

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floralseokjin · 3 years

Text

⤑ made-up love song drabbles

First date: Seokjin’s POV

kim seokjin x reader warnings; none! words; 2,196 words

↪︎ read the series here / and drabbles here

Seokjin felt like a drink. It was nine o’clock in the morning, so absolutely out of the question, but it didn’t stop him from craving it. Whiskey. Definitely whiskey. Nana’s PA had just been to pick up Arin for the weekend – Thank God. Finally she would be able to spend time with her mom after a month, which he was over the moon about, and selfishly, that meant his date with you could go ahead. Even if he was so nervous he could throw up.

Work had been a great distraction for the past two days but once he’d woken up this morning the realisation had dawned on him. He was going on a date tonight. His first in a decade. He still couldn’t believe he’d actually gone through with it and asked you to dinner. He’d faced his fears, possibly made a fool of himself and shared too much about his personal life in the process, but you hadn’t seemed to mind at all. You were so easy to talk to, it was refreshing. He’d felt brave for the first time in months – years. But it still didn’t stop him from being on pins as soon as he’d opened his eyes this morning.

He’d showered early, just after Arin had woken up and then he’d helped her get ready for the day too, allowing her to eat her breakfast in front of the television as he tried to swallow down his bowl of porridge too. It tasted like cardboard – but then again, it might have been his cooking. Misook usually made the food around her, when he wasn’t dining out or ordering take out of course.

Arin had noticed his strange mood straight away. Obviously.

“Daddy, what’s wrong with you this morning?” She’d asked, looking over at him warily before hesitating. “I am spending the weekend with mom, right?”

“Of course you are, sweetie” he’d rushed, shaking away the surge of anger he’d felt. It pained him to know she was always expecting the worst lately. “Your mom just text me to say Jia is on her way.”

She’d smiled then, her face lighting up and he couldn’t help but match it, his nerves disappearing for a while. That was until he was left all alone, the house now empty and silent. He eyed the bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter (where he’d left it after his small nightcap last night) and shook his head. He should drop you a text, just to check in and see if you were still on for tonight. He needed to find out what time to pick you up anyway. He probably should have messaged you the day before, he panicked suddenly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled his phone from his sweatpants pocket. Oh well, there was no time for regrets, that’s what his father always said.

It took him at least ten minutes to figure out what to say. His first draft sounded too cheerful, too false, he was trying way too hard and had added an examination point. His second was too formal, fifteen years of sending business emails back and forth obvious. He settled on something in the middle – he hoped.

Unknown (9:32am) Hi Y/N, It’s Kim Seokjin, Arin’s father. Just wondering if you still want to have dinner tonight? If so, please let me know and I will send through the restaurant details. We can decide on a time for me to pick you up. Regards, Seokjin

Only, reading it back after he hit send he began to second guess himself. Of course you knew who he was, his confidence might be lacking a little right now but he knew he wasn’t totally forgettable. What an idiot. Not that he could do much, there was no turning back. He’d committed.

He busied himself with a bit of Saturday morning cleaning while he waited for your reply, and by that he meant straightening up the pillows he and Arin had been sitting against earlier. When he returned to the kitchen, your message was waiting for him.

You (9:43am) Of course, send the details. I trust your taste!

See, exclamation points suited you. It was cute. He could just imagine you saying it in person, your dazzling smile, maybe that little giggle you’d made a few times on Wednesday. He felt something warm in his chest as he got lost in his thoughts, nerves easing once again. You were excited for tonight, he told himself. Maybe you were even just as nervous as him possibly…

He spent yet another few minutes composing his reply. A lot more casual this time, signing off with just his name. He didn’t always text like this, Namjoon could vouch for him, but he didn’t think you were both quite there yet. He wanted to show his best self after all. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to make you like him as much as he liked you.

Seokjin (9:50am) The sudden pressure… The restaurant’s name is KIM. I hope you like it. Is 7 alright to pick you up? I made reservations for 7:30. Seokjin

In truth, this restaurant was one he co-owned with his brother. Seokchul was the executive chef and they were both very proud of how successful their business venture had become. He knew taking you to such a place might seem like a cop-out – or worse, a brag – but that wasn’t the case at all. He wanted to treat you in a place that meant a lot to him. He could have chosen multiple restaurants, he was a regular at quite a few and could easily get a great table, but see, that did seem like he was showing off and he did not want to give you that impression at all. It was the complete opposite of his personality. KIM was a good choice, he was sure of it, and it helped that his brother didn’t work weekends, so there was no risk of bumping into him. Although, he had let him know about the date (and had begged him not to spill to their mother).

You (9:52am) I will. 7 sounds perfect. I’ll send through my address. See you later!

You followed up with a Google Maps link to your home, and he sent a quick thank you – sans his name this time. With a quick sigh he pocketed his phone again, it was time to get on with his day. He had some paperwork from yesterday to complete by Monday morning so he should probably make a start. He stopped to order a light lunch at midday, ate it as he scrolled through his very limited social media before getting back to it.

He called it a day around 3pm, a call from his mom interrupting his flow. He spent an hour talking, their weekend phone calls were habitual by now and he enjoyed them immensely. He loved his father of course, but their conversations mostly revolved around work. Despite stepping down as CEO three years ago, he was still a vital member of the company, and Seokjin continued to consult him at every opportunity and lean on him for support when things got stressful. With his mom, she was the woman he could still be a kid around. They could talk about anything and everything, but for her own benefit he left out his plans for tonight. He knew what she was like, she’d get way too excited and overwhelmed and before long she’d be sobbing down the line while simultaneously asking to meet you. She’d been wanting him to meet someone new for so long, much like Mrs. Shin. It was a surprise the two women weren’t conspiring behind his back.

No, he’d keep it a secret for now. If things went well tonight, then possibly his mother would get to find out. He wasn’t getting his hopes up though – or at least he was trying not to.

It was just after four when he got off the phone, too early to start getting ready just yet, so he sat in front of the television and tried to concentrate on a series he’d recently started. (It wasn’t going well. He was on about one episode a week out of a nine season TV show.) It was no use though, the nerves were rearing their ugly head again.

He decided to choose his outfit. Seokjin wasn’t much of a thinker when it came to fashion, he just grabbed whatever he saw first that morning, but tonight he wanted to at least put some effort in. After much deliberation he decided on a navy two piece paired with a white dress shirt. It wasn’t over the top, he thought, but nice enough to make that impression that was so very important to him. He kept his hair simple. He’d managed to squeeze in a haircut yesterday so it made things easier, but upon closer inspection in the mirror he noticed those pesky grey hairs of his glittering in the sunlight. He grimaced, worried now. He didn’t know your exact age yet, but it was obvious he was a few years older than you. He was no spring chicken, especially with those wrinkles around his eyes. He had been called handsome all his life, no stranger to it, but right now he was dubious.

He pushed his trivial concerns away and concentrated on the next decision. What car he would take. He didn’t want to go too flash – again with the showing off thing – so the Aston Martin was definitely off the cards. He hadn’t actually driven that one much, going through some sort of so-called midlife crisis when he’d bought it straight after his divorce, so he made a mental note to take it out next weekend. He decided on the Mercedes convertible (roof on, of course). It seemed like a suitable choice, not too flashy at all really. He didn’t want to run the risk of putting you off him or overwhelming you with showy displays. He was well aware of the differences between your lifestyles, not that he cared at all, but it didn’t stop him from understanding. The things that seemed slight to him could very well be enormous for you. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, shape or form.

Shit, on second thoughts maybe his restaurant was a bad idea…

Seokjin was always punctual, he prided himself on it, but tonight it made him nervous. He’d said 7 but it had only just gone quarter to. He couldn’t very well stay in the car for fifteen minutes, you’d spot him out the window, so ever so slowly he opened his car door and stepped out, his heart thudding against his ribcage. He was sure he noticed his hand shaking as he closed it behind him. He was such a mess it was embarrassing.

You lived in a nice little neighbourhood, it seemed quiet, and he admired your pots of flowers in the patch of garden you had as he made his way up the path that led to your front door. He took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell, adjusting his suit jacket as he waited for you to open up. It’s fine, Seokjin, he told himself. It’s just dinner. You’ve done much scarier things in your life. Pull yourself together, man.

A few seconds later the door opened in front of him and you came into view, looking as beautiful as ever. I’m fucked, he thought immediately.

“Hi,“ he forced himself to say as he smiled. He was probably staring but he couldn’t help himself. You looked stunning, your dress deep red in colour and incredibly flattering. His throat felt dry and he swallowed quickly.

“Hey,” you greeted back.

“You look beautiful,“ he couldn’t help but awe, hoping he wasn’t stepping out of line with his compliment.

"Thank you,” you smiled almost shyly. It was adorable. “You look…really good.“

He couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that, aware the sound was probably highly unfaltering, but he couldn’t help it. "I’ll take it. Thanks.” He tilted his head to the right then, composing himself. “Are you ready to go? I’m a bit early, I know. Sorry about that."

He really couldn’t tear himself away from your beauty, but luckily you didn’t seem to notice, busy nodding as you clutched your purse to your side. "I, uh… I would invite you in to kill time but my best friend’s embarrassing.” Your voice raised as you continued, your head turning slightly down the hallway.

He raised an eyebrow, a little confused, but he guessed said best friend was in the house somewhere? He smiled and shook his head. “It’s fine.”

As you stepped forward, a breath of a chuckle slipping from your throat, he moved to the side, outstretching his arm to let you lead the way. You accepted with a brief nod of your head, your gazes catching for a split second. God, you were gorgeous.

His nerves might have eased a tad, but his heart was still beating just as fast – if not more.

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #mls:drabbles #fic:mls #floralseokjin:writings

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doexoeyes · 3 years

Text

Of Finches & Firsts

Ok so here’s a fic I actually have on Wattpad and AOO3 but I decided to bring over here. On those sites I wrote a character for this story, but on here it’s gonna be Draco x Reader ♡ Only thing to note is that your last name in this story would be Finch (so to make sense of the title and some other little parts of the story) as well as you’re a Hufflepuff. Sorry to the other houses,I adore you all but Draco and a Hufflepuff is just to juicy to pass up (in the first book he literally say’s they’re the worst) so just trust me when I tell you that it’s all for the story. Anyways I hope you enjoy and if you’re interested in reading the original, here are the links:

Archive Of Our own link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26707513

Wattpad link:

https://my.w.tt/ZoUHpu1e59

Summary: "A Hufflepuff? Crushing on a Slytherin? Sounds like the start of a terrible joke to me, but ok." You’ve harbored feelings for Draco Malfoy since your first year at Hogwarts. Secretly, of course, and very much from afar. But when you’re finally taken out of your role of being a background character in his life, will it be what you always wanted, or what you wish you never knew?

Chapters

Chapter 1 ♡ Chapter 2

Chapter 1: The Firsts Of Many

The first time you ever saw Draco Malfoy was at the sorting hat ceremony your first year at Hogwarts. You thought he was striking upon first sight, with his silver grey eyes contrasting with his nearly white hair. You knew he would leave a lasting impression upon whoever looked at him, and you very much envied him for it. You felt like you were as plain a Jane as they came, especially when compared to him. You couldn't keep your eyes off of him for the rest of the night, drawn to, not just his features, but the mysterious aura that surrounded him.

When your name had gotten called for the sorting, you were incredibly nervous for many reasons:

1. For the house you were going to be sorted into that would shape your life for the next 7 years.

2. For the several hundreds of eyes watching you go up the steps.

3. For the white haired boy who you seemed to have developed the tiniest little crush on.

Thankfully, you made it up without tripping and making a complete fool of yourself and were pleasantly surprised to find out that the house you'd be sorted into was:

"Hufflepuff," the storing hat declared, and a thunderous applause followed suit.You smiled, looking towards the table with the yellow cladded students as they cheered and waved you over. You couldn't wait to tell your father, who was a proud Hufflepuff himself, that you were now one, too.

When it's Draco's turn to be sorted, you made sure to pay very close attention. A small silly part of you wanted to cross your fingers and hope that he'd somehow be sorted into Hufflepuff just like you.

Of course, that was a very optimistic wish.

"Slytherin," the hat announced, and all those hopes quickly came tumbling down because if there was one house you knew you weren’t going to be able to fit in with, it was Slytherin.

There went your chances of being potentially noticed by Draco Malfoy.

Letting out a sigh, you were able to manage a small smile as you clapped for the boy along with the rest of your fellow schoolmates.

You spent the entire year making new friends, learning spells, studying up for exams, and never having the opportunity to talk to Draco, your only regret of the year.

For Draco, his first year at Hogwarts consisted of him developing the reputation of being the school's bully. Most of his antics we concentrated heavily on Harry Potter and his friends, but he truly didn't spare anyone that wasn't a part of his Slytherin crew.

Still, this didn't lessen the small crush you had on him since the day of the sorting. Despite his actions, you really felt that the boy was much more than what he projected to the world.

The first time you ever got to talk to Draco Malfoy was during your second year, when you had accidentally run into him as you rushed to your potions class.

You were too busy worrying about making it in time to class, really not wanting a reason to make Snape chastise you, that you had forgotten to pay attention to your surroundings. A disastrous recipe for running into someone, which was exactly what ended up happening.

"Hey!" he said with a grunt as his books fell from his hands.

You, mortified, hardly even noticed it was Draco at first, as you immediately leaned down to pick up his books.

"Oh I'm so sorry! I'm a complete klutz. I should've been paying more attention, I just-" as you got back up from the floor, books recovered & in your arms, you froze as your eyes made contact with his striking silver ones.

"Yeah, you definitely should have! Next time, try not to run into your superiors, first year," he said in distaste, brushing off the sleeves of his robe.

You stood there, shocked into silence, feeling your cheeks warm and mentally trying to coach yourself through the moment.

Take a breath, don't sound so nervous.

"A-actually, we're in the same year. I...umm...I first saw you at the sorting, but we had History of Magic together. I sat a row ahead of you," you corrected, biting your lip.

He tore his gaze away from his sleeves and locked eyes with you again, a chill going down your spine.

"Really? Strange. I don't remember you. Then again, you Hufflepuffs are so forgettable," he stated with a roll of his eyes.

"I'll take those," he said as he grabbed the books from your hands and walked off.

Just like that.

No 'thank you', no apology. Not even an offer to walk you to class which you happened to share this year as well.

You watched him walk away, cheeks definitely as red as Gryffindor's robes at this point, feeling dejected and absolutely embarrassed. You always imagined what your first conversation with Draco would be, as pitiful as that sounded, but in your head it definitely never went like this.

You ended up late to potions class and got lectured by Snape in front of the whole class, including Draco himself and wondered if he remembered who you were, or if he once again erased you from his head and permanently labeled you as a 'forgettable Hufflepuff'.

The rest of the year went on as normal after that, nothing too special.

The first time you really understood what your feelings for Draco Malfoy were was in your third year, on the train ride to Hogwarts.

You watched from the window as the train passed through the lush scenery of grand trees & clear blue skies, hands fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. Your best friend, Mauve Ambrose, was seated beside you, gossiping about potential romances ("I think Ginny is head over heels for that Harry Potter kid and everyone knows it. Except, you know, that Harry Potter kid.") and who was to have the 'biggest glow up' of their entire year group ("My money is on Longbottom. Remember that I called it, ok. I want a witness to prove that I said it first.").

Hearing the candy trolley pass by, you perked up and politely excused yourself from your friend, walking out of the compartment. Your eyes searched for the trolley, determined to make it to it before the last of the chocolate frogs were taken, and caught it making its way towards the back of the train.

When you approached the trolley, you waited for the attendant to continue on along with one of the students as they picked out a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. Once the attendant turned towards you, you smiled wide, ready to request a chocolate frog, when you felt someone approach from behind you.

"A chocolate frog for me, yeah? And make sure it doesn't have Dumbledore's card. I have like 10 of that old bat," said a familiar, snarky voice.

You turned and your breath immediately caught in your throat; it was Draco Malfoy.

"You're in luck, there was only one left. Although, I can't really confirm if this one has a Dumbledore or not..." the attendant said, handing him the box.

You frowned a rather sad frown, disappointed. Perhaps one would blame the Malfoy boy for taking your turn (you did get there first after all) but in truth, he wanted what he wanted and he wasn't afraid to get it.

In your mind, all was fair in candy and war.

"Hey, aren't you the girl who ran into me last year? The Hufflepuff?" he asked, eyes looking you up and down.

You felt so small in his presence. Although you were both about the same height your first year together, he towered over you at this point in time.

"I...y-yeah. That's me. Umm...my name's Y/N, actually. And congrats on the frog. I came to get one but you managed to get the last one," you said, trying to keep it cool on the outside when on the inside you were a mess of nerves.

You really wanted Draco to like you. Not in a big, important way, no. Just enough to remember your name, at least.

He continued on staring at you silently, even when you finished talking. His gaze felt like a microscope on you and you could feel your cheeks heat up.

"You have weirdly shaped eyes," he says bluntly after a moment and you really wished you knew a spell that would have the floor swallow you whole.

"Umm...." you were unable to come up with a response.

You wish you were witty or funny or charismatic, but socializing did at times become quite difficult for you, and you weren't gifted with a quick mind or a sharp tongue.

"Anyways, I'm gonna go enjoy my frog now," he said as he walked away.

You were not surprised to feel the slight sting of tears forming in your eyes. You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down. You hated the fact that you were actually so sensitive. Your parents tried to make you feel better about it, stating that it just meant that you had a big heart.

“Well,” you thought, “if having a big heart meant it was easy for me to cry, then it didn't seem like a very good thing to have”.

Keeping your tears at bay (at least until you could sit down and put your sweater over your head so no one could see), you walked over to your compartment.

It was when you were nearly there that Draco's head popped out from his compartment's sliding door, startling you. You let out a small yelp, putting your hand over your mouth almost immediately after.

"Here, have this," he stated simply, as he reached his hand out towards you.

To your surprise, it was the chocolate frog box Your eyes widened, staring at it before cautiously retrieving it from his hand, switching your gaze back to him.

"I only wanted it for the card, and it's another stupid Dumbledore one" he claims, and before you could say anything, he slides the door shut, leaving you standing alone in the middle of the walkway, chocolate frog in hand.

It was then that you noticed that the box had its wrapping still in tact, meaning it was never opened in the first place.

Once you made it to your compartment and sat back down in your seat ("Nice! You got Celestina Warbeck," Mauve stated excitedly as she opened the box for you), You realized that your little crush on Draco Malfoy had turned into an actual one.

The first time you ever got to experience what it was like to fall in love with Draco Malfoy was in your fourth year at Hogwarts, a few weeks before the Yule Ball.

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco imagine #Harry Potter #draco lucius malfoy #imagine #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter imagine #draco x hufflepuff!reader #hufflepuff #slytherin #draco x huff

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ravireyes · 3 years

Photo

ravi’s instagram — the 2020 birthdays, part iii. — rafael femenias jr

rafael, i don't think enough people know how warm you are.

i can't find a better word for it right now. i wanted to say "good" but i don't mean it like that. i know the world is built on grey matter, i know nothing is black or white, good or bad. i have a word for it in spanish (we all know how bad i am at it, but this one i know): acogedor. it means "welcoming", if you google it, but that's a shallow translation. acogedor feels warmer -- like comforting, like something that embraces you, takes you in.

you know, whenever i see you, i always remember my first time having dinner with the femenias bunch. first time being introduced as marcus' partner to the family. i hadn't been anyone's anything in years, and meeting the parents is always a nerve-wrecking experience; but meeting the parents, the sister, the cousins, the uncle? of one of the most famous families in town? i wasn't even operating on the same plane of existence as the rest of you, i was so nervous.

you and i had already sorta met, back when i worked at femEn, but we never talked much. you were still a stranger that night, someone else to impress. about an hour into the evening, we found ourselves alone together by circumstance, everyone else distracted by something in the other room. and then my dumbass, who was holding a glass of wine, tripped on thin air and spilled wine onto the rug beneath us.

horror. pure horror. i was mortified, i couldn't believe myself. it's the first time i visit my boyfriend's family, and here i am, ruining a rug that's probably worth more than all of my savings. i stared at the stain, the stain stared back at me, and i felt the overwhelming embarrassment already burning up my nose.

and then, you. before i could even fuss, before i could make a sound, you so carelessly filled up your lungs and called out, "papa! i spilled wine on your rug!"

you didn't even think before you said it. it was a split second reaction, it seemed like second nature to you, like habit. you took one look at the desperation in my eyes and you didn't hesitate to take the blame. and you didn't even know me by then. your dad groaned from the other room, you were grinning. i just stood there, still mortified, shoulders up to my ears, feeling like a kid who's about to be yelled at. you gave me a tap on the arm and went to join everyone else.

i waited for the other shoe to drop, for a long time. for you to make fun of me (you could, you can now), or hold it over my head, or remind me, or something. but nothing happened. you never brought it up again. eventually, i figured out that that's just the kind of thing you do.

i'm not even sure if you remember it. it might've been just that for you, an everyday act of kindness, a funny, but forgettable moment in the grand scheme of all the good you do. i know it's a silly thing, i know there were no real consequences to this stained rug, i'm not trying to say this was a big deal. no, it really was just that. a tiny act of compassion, a favour, a hand offered without second thought. and i was never used to that. it was, actually, a big deal for me.

the rug got cleaned up eventually, but if i squint hard enough, i can still see the faint outline of that red stain. sometimes, when i visit the estate, i get right on top of it and stand there for a second. i guess it reminds me of that feeling. of feeling welcome. not just a guest passing by, but a part of the family. you always treated me like that. from day one, you looked at me like i'd always been there. i don't think you know (i don't think you can) how much that means to me.

rafael femenias junior, you really are a name for the history books. i know i don't say it much, but i appreciate you, even when you annoy the shit out of me. you are kind, warm, and you are good. don't ever change that about you. don't ever lose sight of it, will you? and if you ever actually spill wine on a fancy rug somewhere, well, i still owe you one.

happy bday, @rfjofficial !

ps: of course you had to be a leo, our lionhearted man. can you hear me rolling my eyes. i hope so.

#( with : rafael )#musings ;;#edit ;;#u said pick a silly or sexy photo and i said no <3 #i will pick a cute one <3 #but honestly thinking of ravi taking this pic makes me soft???#also disclaimer i love you all equally raf's post is just longer bc its practically a drabble at this point #ravi just create a blog and stop crowding ur insta captions #in the horsemenrp universe instagram does not limit captions

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pridewhatpride · 3 years

Note

"rival"

There you are. You. Asking for a GX Rivalshipping drabble with 'Rival' as a keyword. Here you go. I hope you're happy ;; The length is around 2k words.

Special thanks to @deadkura for proofreading, but I note that any and all mistakes are on me. They were just... my poor lab rat. Apologies, my friend.

That aside, there are no warnings that need to be given, this is light-hearted in tone. Nobody dies and nobody gets hurt, aside from Shou who happens to be there at some point and just succumbs to the need to get on with some semblance of a plot.

... It's on Ao3 because why not. Here.

The story is below the cut! Enjoy (or don't)!

____ ____ ____

Manjoume could vaguely remember the first time he’d watched the Battle City recordings. He couldn’t remember when it had been exactly, but he did know he’d been at a classmate’s house with a bunch of other kids. He had a faint memory of being pressed up against other children, all of them shouting and cheering along as the duel between Seto Kaiba and Yugi Mutou came to a roaring end.

… It had been noisy. And he’d found himself mildly annoyed. Not that the duel didn’t have him on the edge of his seat- quite the opposite. He was completely mesmerised by the unforgiving tornado of grace that was Seto Kaiba, most of all. Perhaps that was why he’d found the others to be so bothersome in that specific instance. It seemed very rude to him that they would take him out of the experience with their screams. Was that fun? Was it supposed to be fun? Was he simply out of the loop? Should he have been screaming, too?

The thing he could recollect with a surprising amount of clarity was some kid who’d grabbed his arm to get him off the couch. To this day, he still had no clue what his name was.

“Jun! Come on, I want to play Yugi! You can be Kaiba!”

He remembered muttering something about the suggestion being extremely stupid. The kid wasn’t Yugi Mutou and neither of them possessed any Duel Monsters cards. What was the point of just replicating what they had just watched on screen? They could just… rewatch the scene. But the kid had seemed to be very set on the idea and when Manjoume looked around to see expectant looks on the others’ faces, he ended up giving in. He remembered thinking something along the lines of: ‘Why me?’ And even in retrospect, it made very little sense. He’d never played with this specific kid before. He was a friend of a friend- or a friend of someone he thought was a friend at the time.

“Why do I have to do this?” He had ended up asking, not hiding any sign of his annoyance. “Because you’re like Kaiba!” “I am?” “Yeah! You always say mean things like him! And Taro says you’re like… super rich.”

The rest was a bit of a blur, but he remembered being the ‘Kaiba’ of the group, for as long as it lasted. Which wasn’t a very long time, admittedly. But it had been the one and only ‘friend group’ he’d found himself being a part of, up until he’d entered the dueling circuits, when people started sucking up to him either because of his early successes or just to see what could be squeezed out of the youngest of the Manjoume brothers.

Reminiscing about things like that was… weird, to say the least. He wondered why he’d been that stuck up, even as a kid. He just couldn’t figure out what exactly had made him believe that acting like he was above everyone else could get him anywhere at all. Of course he was aware of the futility of the act, now that he’d grown up and a few years had passed, but it turned out that knowing something on a rational level does not, in fact, equal being able to put it into practise.

… He knew why he was doing what he was doing, anyways. It had stopped being meanness for the sake of being mean when he knew he could get away with it and had stepped into habit territory. And he hadn’t been allowed to go to Duel Academy so that he could make friends who shared the same hobby. He had imagined that 3 years could go by in the blink of an eye if he got involved as little as possible. All that mattered was winning duels, right? And the last thing he needed in order to do that was to start caring about his opponent’s feelings, really.

The thing he hadn’t really considered was that, maybe, his winning streak wouldn’t last forever. He should have known that the outcome of a duel did not depend entirely on how driven one was. It was still fucking annoying to have to see everyone’s surprised- no, incredulous faces upon seeing him finally defeated. Finally, yes. Clearly people had been waiting for nothing more than to see him brought to his knees. It turned out they had firmly believed he had no actual merits outside of his family connections. They had their long-awaited confirmation. He’d lost a single fucking duel. Obviously he was nothing but a blowhard.

Well, good. Whatever. He couldn’t have cared less.

What did infuriate him, however, were the words that the idiot who’d defeated him had exclaimed, entirely unaware of the fact that he’d just completely crushed everything Manjoume had tried to build for himself.

“That was a fun duel! We have to do this again some time!”

He hadn’t cared to stay behind to listen to anything else the other had to say. The guy clearly hardly had a clue where he was or what he was studying to become. Who had allowed that moron to smile like that while trampling his pride? How the fuck had Manjoume let himself be defeated by someone like that?

May the fucker go to hell. Him and his dumb red uniform. Everyone in the Academy. They could fucking die for all he cared. And Manjoume would have probably laughed at the sight.

He really thought he would have. And yet.

As he was going over his deck, sitting with his back against a tree, doing his best to avoid anyone and everyone, he heard footsteps approaching, accompanied by two voices he felt he knew.

“Aniki, I still can’t believe you beat that guy- he’s an Obelisk Blue- and the top ranking first year at that!” … Is this- “He is? Well, that checks out, he was pretty tough.” That’s- Yuki Judai. No doubt about it. “But you beat him.” … Because that needed to be pointed out, how insightful. “Doesn’t everyone lose at least once?” No. “Not against Osiris Red students!” Exactly. “… Why does that even matter in the first place?” It just fucking does, asshole. “Because! A top student isn’t supposed to lose against just anyone, Aniki! I don’t think he took that well.” … Who the fuck would. “Why, though. He didn’t duel poorly or anything. We were pretty evenly matched, there shouldn’t be shame in that.” “Doesn’t that just make it worse?” “… Does it?”

He’d known they were about to pass him, but didn’t bother getting up or making it look like he hadn’t heard anything. He’d clearly been right about this Yuki guy. A complete idiot who clearly understood nothing of what it meant to be a duelist. He glared at the two as they walked by.

… Ah, so the other was Marufuji. A failure younger brother, much like him. How ironic. The boy looked absolutely devastated to see him, too. What, wasn’t expecting the woods to have ears, eyes and a blue uniform?

He furrowed his eyebrows as Yuki abandoned his carefree walking posture, disentangling his fingers from behind his nape and letting his arms drop to his sides. And then proceeded to point straight at him, as if he’d just seen a mythological creature prancing about. Tch.

“It’s Manju!”

… Was that supposed to be a joke? Why was his first thought that that would make for an awful pet name?

After a second of silence, he decided there would be no harm in responding as he usually would to his name being tossed around improperly. “It’s Man-jou-me,” he corrected, making it a point to hold a hand up to count the three syllables as he spelled them out. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not actually food.”

Marufuji’s hands shot up to cover his face, at least he had the decency to be embarrassed for his friend. … But Yuki just laughed. “What! My name isn’t so forgettable that you’d just mistake it for dessert, asshole!” And laughed harder. “I-“ he paused to catch his breath. Manjoume looked on, entirely unimpressed. Hopefully. “Look- look, I’m not the best with names, I didn’t-“ a loud exhale. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you, I swear.” “… Sure you didn’t.” He tried to keep his voice as hostile as he could. But he… couldn’t fully bring himself to shut the guy down. He supposed his laughter was just contagious.

“Glad that’s settled!” He turned around to face a barely still present Marufuji. “See, Shou? The guy isn’t so bad!” Ah. Right. It had almost slipped his mind. “Aniki- please, I get it, there is no need-!”

“I’ll be winning the next one, anyways,” he said as he got up. And that, apparently, was enough to get both boys to gape uselessly. For half a second. Because before anything else could be said, Yuki shot him a thumbs up and a wide smile. “I’m counting on it, Manjoume!” He couldn’t stop himself from smirking back.

It didn’t take long for rumours to spread about a supposed rivalry between himself and Yuki Judai. It turned out that most off the students of the Academy had very little to do aside from gossiping about such things, which was honestly just a disappointment. Perhaps that was why Judai ended up growing on him, despite everything. While he wasn’t necessarily serious or studious by any means, he was… passionate. He meant it when he said that he was looking to have fun and, to an extent, it was admirable. Enjoy the game no matter the outcome. Easier said than done. But in a sense it was… pleasant to get along with and play against someone who was so different from him.

On one specific evening, they had ended up staying out, discussing strategies and dispensing sarcastic advice- or at least that was what Manjoume was doing. Judai actually seemed quite intent on asking how he’d built his deck and why he’d chosen certain card combos rather than others. They had had a match a few hours prior and Manjoume had surprised him with some new faces. Manjoume Jun was a lot of things and predictable wasn’t one of them. And if the way Judai’s face lit up whenever he pulled a surprise play was anything to go by… it was clearly a trait he appreciated immensely, which it was something that made him swell up with pride. To the point where, when switching out cards, he would often find himself thinking about what Judai’s reaction would look like upon the big reveal of his new strategy.

“It’s always my pleasure to be your lab rat, Manjoume.” The response came in the form of a light shove. “Oh shut up, I like testing out things and, clearly, so do you.” Judai’s laugh rang out, light and unintrusive. “You’re right about that, at least.”

They spent some minutes silently studying eachother’s decks. Manjoume had been about to comment on the card ratio, before Judai blurted out something that made him forget all about it. “We’re kind of like Yugi and Kaiba.” And then a necessary addition, judging by the urgency in his voice. “If they had been actual friends, that is.” … Huh. One of his eyebrows shot up. “Don’t tell me it’s because you win most of the times and I’m a stuck up asshole who also happens to be rich.” Judai laughed, as he always did. And it was only fair that after being shoved earlier he’d playfully punch Manjoume’s shoulder. “That could be one way to look at it, I guess.”

A small pause followed. And the increase in intensity of the sound of shuffling cards suggested that Judai was… nervous. “What I meant to say is that we’re rivals. Like them.” Majoume scoffed, without any actual bite, his eyes set on a Polymerisation copy. “That isn’t specific to them. Isn’t it just… normal? To have someone you want to defeat, I mean?” “Hah, so you admit I’m the role model you’re striving to overcome!” “I didn’t say anything of the sort, dumbass.” “… Well, for me… playing with you keeps the game fun.”

Manjoume actually looked away from the Elemental Heroes he’s been adamantly staring at. He turned to face Judai, who seemed to have been looking his way for some time.

He would do that a lot. Make a joke, get a snarky reply and immediately say something serious afterwards. What an idiot.

Fun he said, huh? “Not that it isn’t fun in and of itself, but it’s different, I guess. I find that I actually do want to win, when I’m up against you.” Judai’s hand moved to play with his bangs. “I didn’t think I’d ever think twice about a lost duel, but I… kind of do, now.”

“Oh yeah, sorry- Welcome to the magical world of normal people who don’t necessarily win every single time.” “You speak like I’m not the only one who’s beaten you.” “So do you, asshat.” Judai’s expression morphed back into a smile. “It’s refreshing to have a genuine challenge. If you were to quit I would probably lose my interest in playing, too.”

Ah. That part of the Yugi-Kaiba rivalry. He felt like he started to understand.

“Keep dreaming, Judai. I’m not quitting anytime soon. I vowed to never let you off the hook.”

He thought of what he could or should say next. A part of him suggested: ‘You make it fun for me, too.’ That wasn’t in his style, however.

“But I have to agree. I’d get really bored if winning were to become too easy. You’ll die before I allow you to quit, Judai.”

#ygo #yugioh #ygo gx #yugioh gx #gx rivalshipping #manjoume jun #jun manjoume #chazz princeton #yuki judai #judai yuki #jaden yuki #ulri's abysmal fics #@ deadkura if you'd rather i untag you i will

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