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timelesslords · 3 years

Note

prompts: could you write an in canon verse (so like gods and stuff are real) fic with amnesia? it could be post TLO or it could be one of them coming out of anesthesia and feeling wonky. i just love a good memory loss fic.

@halfbloodcarrie was instrumental in making this happen!!! Her adorable fluffy idea was completely paid dust in favor of making this angsty as hell but I blame her for me getting it done at all <3

read on AO3

Everything was dark. And everything hurt. His head especially was throbbing, but he couldn’t make out any other feeling. He could hear something; vague at first, just a ringing. But if he struggled, and he did, he could start to make out faint voices. His eyes refused to open, they wouldn’t even blink, but the noises were getting clearer by the second.

“What if he doesn’t wake up?” a worried voice asked. Something about it felt familiar, but he couldn’t even pry his eyes open, much less figure out who it belonged to.

“He’ll wake up,” a second voice said, male this time. He sounded confident, assured. At least he thought so.

“There was so much blood, I thought… gods.”

The first voice again, though this time it wavered. It sounded scared, terrified even.

“He’ll be alright, Annabeth. He’s got a thick skull.”

That made the first voice laugh, watery as it was.

“Don’t I know it.”

Some feeling was starting to return to his limbs, slowly but surely. He tried blinking again, but it felt sluggish, slow. Suddenly he realized he could feel his arms and fingers, and there was a hand in his, gripping it so tightly it was a wonder he hadn’t felt it before.

“Percy?” the female voice asked, hopeful. He groaned. His head was pounding like nothing he’d ever felt before. Actually, he wasn’t sure if that was true, because he couldn’t remember his head pounding before, ever.

Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember anything at all.

He blinked again, this time managing to pry his eyelids open a fraction of a degree. The light streaming in hurt like a bitch, and he groaned again, closing his eyes.

“Percy,” the first voice said again, more frantically, “Can you hear me?”

She seemed to be talking to him, though he wasn’t quite sure. He couldn’t remember his name, but she’d said Percy twice, so that had to be it, didn’t it?

He tried to say something to the girl, but it came out as a strangled groan of pain.

“Will,” she said, a little desperately.

“He’s maxed out, Annabeth, I’m sorry,” the other voice said.

The girl (Annabeth?) muttered something under her breath in-- was that Greek? And how did he know that? More determined than ever, Percy blinked again, this time managing to crack his eyelids open and keep them that way.

His vision was blurry, but a few more blinks and the vague shapes in front of him started to sharpen into focus.

“Percy?” the girl said again. Percy squinted, trying to focus on her.

The first thing he noticed was that she was-- well, pretty didn’t quite describe it. She was seriously beautiful. Her eyes were a dark grey color, currently wide with concern, her hair framing her face in cascades of golden curls. Her nose was small and button shaped, dotted with freckles.

Even if Percy didn’t currently feel like a small blacksmith’s forge was hammering on the inside of his skull, he was pretty sure he would’ve been rendered pretty speechless.

“Hey there, sleepyhead. You were out for a while,” she said, smiling. She did look relieved, but Percy didn’t miss the genuine worry behind her eyes either, the little waver along her lips trying to maintain an upbeat expression.

“I… what’s going on?” Percy asked. Annabeth bit her lip, looking over her shoulder. Percy glanced upwards, properly seeing the other person in the room for the first time. He was a teenager, with shaggy blonde hair a shade or two lighter than the girl’s. He was wearing a white lab coat over what looked to be an orange t-shirt and jeans, which didn’t exactly instill Percy with a lot of confidence in whatever medical care he was receiving.

Of course, the fact that he had no memory didn’t help matters.

“You sort of got hit in the head,” Annabeth said, wincing as she did.

“Really hard,” the boy added.

Percy reached up tentatively, to the place where it felt like his skull was splitting inside out. Instead of skin he felt something else, some thick sort of fabric.

“Ow,” he said, a little unhelpfully. The girl smiled again-- crap, how was she even more beautiful when she smiled?-- but it still had an edge of sadness to it.

“Yeah. Discus accident,” she said.

“Discus accident?” Percy asked, confused.

“Yeah. Those stone frisbee things, remember?” the other guy said.

“No,” Percy said, pushing himself into a sitting position. It made his head throb, but he couldn’t stand lying down anymore. “I don’t-- I don’t remember anything.”

“You mean-- you mean you don’t remember the accident,” Annabeth said, a little forcefully. Her grey eyes flashed, and Percy didn’t quite recognize the expression, but something in his gut told him it was not good.

“No, I mean I don’t remember anything,” Percy repeated, figuring it was best to get it out of the way sooner or later, “I don’t know where I am or who you are or who I am.”

The girl took one very long look at him. He didn’t know what exactly he had said in particular that had triggered something in her, but the concern fell from her face in an instant. She dropped his hand, something sharp overtaking her expression.

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” she said. Her voice was a little thick, but Percy couldn’t tell if she was crying, because in the next second she stood and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Inadvertently, Percy felt a twinge of something sad in his chest, though he couldn’t quite place why. He didn’t know Annabeth, but she clearly seemed to know him, and what he’d said had clearly set her off.

All of this was really not improving his headache, which had resumed its throbbing with reckless abandon.

“I didn’t mean to…” Percy trailed off. To what? Upset her? Make her run away? But all he’d done was tell the honest truth-- he couldn’t remember shit. The guy was giving him a look that was bordering on disgust.

“Dude, that’s really not funny,” he said. He sounded pissed, though if Percy wasn’t entirely mistaken, there was a hint of fear behind his bright blue eyes.

“I’m not trying to be funny, I literally don’t know what’s going on,” Percy said, starting to feel a little frantic. Why was everyone here acting like they knew him? And why did he not even know him? He felt nerves and something else tugging in his gut, an insistent, terrifying pull--

Without warning, the glass next to his bed shattered, spraying water and glass everywhere. Percy flinched away from the table, whirling around to look at the boy. His eyes were wide and surprised.

“What the fuck was that?” Percy asked, alarmed.

“That was… you,” the boy said, staring at Percy like he had just grown a second head, “Styx, you’re not making this up, are you?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t know what’s going on for you to believe me?” Percy said, still staring wide-eyed at the place where the cup had shattered. For his own sanity, he decided to ignore the boy’s declaration that he had caused it.

“Four, apparently,” the boy said, rubbing his forehead like he could feel a headache coming on, “Unless you want to make it five for good measure?”

“I have absolutely no memory,” Percy repeated.

“Great. This is just-- this is awesome,” the boy said, sighing heavily.

“Yeah, I’m having so much fun over here,” Percy said dryly.

“Right, sorry,” the boy said, wincing, “Your name is Percy.”

So Percy had guessed that correctly. Good to know.

“My name is Will,” the boy continued, oblivious to Percy’s thoughts, “The girl was--”

“Annabeth,” Percy finished. Will perked up, hopeful, but Percy shook his head.

“I heard you say her name,” Percy explained. Will deflated.

“Oh, right,” he said. He sounded inordinately disappointed, way more disappointed than he’d been when Percy hadn’t remembered him.

“How exactly did this happen?” Percy asked, doing his best not to rub his forehead again. Will sighed.

“Some newbies were messing around with the discuses on the strawberry fields-- which is stupidly dangerous, by the way, we have an arena for a reason-- but it went a little off course and almost hit Annabeth in the face. You shoved her out of the way but it clipped your forehead pretty good.”

Percy tried to process all that, piece by piece. He didn’t know what a newbie was, and apparently wherever this place was had strawberry fields that he and Annabeth had been in together? But the strangest thing of all was that Percy didn’t feel at all surprised that he’d gotten injured trying to get Annabeth out of the way. That piece felt strangely right to him, even if everything else was messy and confusing.

“So me and Annabeth are friends, then?” he asked. Will gave him a strange look, his face paling slightly.

“You guys… you’re close. Really close.”

Percy nodded. That made sense. He didn’t know why Will was being weird about it, but he believed him regardless.

“She was mad at me,” Percy noted. At this, Will winced.

“Yeah. Memory loss… it's kind of a sore subject for her.”

“Why?” Percy asked. Maybe it was a little invasive, but this was all stuff he was supposed to know anyway, wasn’t it?

Will sighed, rubbing his face in his hands.

“Gods, I’m so not the person to be explaining this to you,” he said, “But a few years ago you sort of… disappeared. And you lost all your memories. Except you remembered her. But it was really, really tough on her, she had no idea if you were gonna know anything or not when she found you.”

Percy blinked, trying to take all that in. He had a feeling that was the hyper-condensed version of what had gone down, but it explained the situation well enough. Annabeth hadn’t considered the fact that he genuinely wouldn’t remember her, so she’d assumed it was a bad joke. Percy wished it was a bad joke, because he would give absolutely anything to remember more about her.

“Got it,” Percy said, trying not to frown, “So how did I get my memories back last time? Can we do that again?”

Will grimaced.

“I think last time you drank gorgon’s blood, but we’re fresh out of that.”

Percy stared at him, unsure if he was joking or not. He looked serious, but Percy didn’t want to press it. Clearly last time had been a different sort of deal.

“So what do we do? I can’t go around like this forever.”

“Well, hopefully it's just temporary. Your head injury, plus the mortal pain meds we gave you, plus the nectar--”

“The what?” Percy asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Will said, a little hurriedly. “The point is, your brain is processing a lot of stuff right now. My best guess is that it overloaded a bit, and the amnesia is a side effect. If that’s the case it should go away on its own eventually.”

“And if it’s not the case?” Percy asked, dreading the answer a little. As predicted, WIll grimaced again.

“It could be from the initial injury. In which case it would be… more permanent.”

Percy’s mouth went a little dry.

“Goodie.”

“It probably isn’t,” Will said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“So what do we do?” Percy asked again.

“You could try going to sleep. It might give your brain a chance to readjust, chill out a little. Or…”

Will trailed off, clearly unwilling to finish his thought.

“Or?” Percy prompted.

“Or we could try to jog your memory with stuff you might remember,” Will finished. Percy didn’t understand why this option seemed to be so unpleasant to Will, since it made the most sense to him. He felt disoriented as hell, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to calm his mind down enough to sleep anytime soon. Plus, he was pretty sure he’d been unconscious for a good long while.

“How long was I asleep just now?” Percy asked.

“A while,” Will admitted.

“So let’s try the other thing.”

Will swallowed heavily, his fingers gripping the sides of his white coat a little too tightly.

“Yeah. Okay,” he said, still not sounding happy about it at all, “I’ll-- ugh. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Percy did not move, mostly because he didn’t think he could get up from his bed if he tried. Being alone gave him the chance to observe the room he was in a little bit. It was small but clean, sort of a cross between a normal bedroom and a hospital unit. The walls were made of old looking hardwood, and if he craned his head back a little bit he could almost see out the window. It looked green out there, but it was kind of hard to tell.

Nothing about this place felt familiar, but that didn’t mean much, given nothing Percy had experienced since waking up felt familiar.

Nothing except for those few flashes of feeling he’d gotten about Annabeth, anyway.

Will was gone for a long time, a lot longer than Percy had been expecting. He couldn’t tell time very well and he didn’t see a clock anywhere, but it felt like Will had to have been gone at least half an hour, maybe more. Just when Percy was about to give up and try taking a nap, the door opened again. Will was there, but this time Annabeth was in tow too.

Percy tried not to read too hard into the fact that she didn’t look happy to be there. If he wasn’t mistaken, her eyes were puffy and red from crying, though now they were narrowed in barely constrained anger, her arms folded over her chest.

Will, for his part, looked extremely nervous. That didn’t give Percy a lot of hope about how this was going to go.

“It would probably work better if you could get up and walk around, but well…” he trailed off, but Percy knew exactly why that wasn’t possible. Just keeping his eyes open had been a struggle, and he was pretty sure if he tried to stand right now he was gonna black out.

“Yeah, sounds like a bad idea,” he agreed. Annabeth said nothing, just kept staring with her jaw clenched tight.

“I figured-- you know, you remembered Annabeth last time,” Will said, still sounding nervous, “And you guys have known each other for years, so if anything is going to jog your memory… well.”

“Okay,” Percy said, easily.

Annabeth remained silent.

“I’ll leave you guys alone,” Will said, looking like he absolutely couldn’t wait to get out of the room. He did a second later, slipping out the door and shutting it behind him.

Annabeth looked extraordinarily unhappy to be there. Any care that she had displayed for him when he first woke up was apparently gone. She said nothing as she looked at him with nothing but ice in her eyes.

He didn’t know why exactly she was so pissed-- it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t remember anything, and wouldn’t it be worse for him anyway? But she didn’t seem keen on speaking to him anytime soon, and Percy figured it was up to him to break the ice.

“So, um. Are you single?” Percy asked. It was dumb, sure, but he didn’t remember shit, and this girl was pretty and she seemed to care about him and well? Might as well shoot his shot.

Annabeth muttered something under her breath, something that sounded suspiciously like I’m going to kill you. Cool. Definitely did not make her hotter to him, not even a little bit.

“I’m not single,” she said, practically glaring at him.

“Got it. Sorry,” Percy said. For just a second her eyes ducked away, sadness replacing anger. But then she looked back up, and her previous expression was reinstated.

“Why don’t we just stick to you,” she said.

“Sure,” Percy said. He didn't want to make her mad again, because he had a feeling if that kept happening it would not end well for him. He wasn’t sure what could be worse than complete and total amnesia, but looking at Annabeth he was pretty sure she could think of something.

She took a deep breath, a little unsteadily.

“Your name is Percy,” she said, “I guess Will already told you that, though.”

Percy nodded. She moistened her lips, staring down at the ground.

“Okay. What else do you want to know?”

“Where are we?” Percy asked. It wasn’t his most urgent question, but it felt like a safer one to ask. Then again, from the look on Annabeth’s face, maybe that was a miscalculation. She was biting her lip, the anger in her expression softening slightly. It seemed to be replaced by something sad though, and Percy found he almost preferred the anger.

“It’s… a little hard to explain. But we’re at a camp. A summer camp. It’s-- it’s where we met.”

“Why are we here now?” Percy asked. Annabeth shrugged.

“We’re just visiting,” she said.

“Together?” Percy asked. She stared at him, swallowing heavily.

“Yeah. Together,” she said, though she was clearly unwilling to elaborate.

Okay then. Time for a new line of questioning. A safer line, one that hopefully wouldn’t put her on the verge of tears.

“What’s my favorite color?” he asked.

“Blue,” she said, instantly.

“Favorite food?”

“Anything blue,” she said, just as fast.

“I eat blue food?” Percy asked, confused. She smiled for the first time since he’d told her his memory was gone. It was small, but it still made his heart flutter.

“Yeah. It’s sort of an inside joke with you and your mom,” she said. The smile faded just as fast as it had come, but her answer had inadvertently given Percy more information than he’d expected.

“So I’m close to my mom?” Percy asked, unable to help it. Annabeth nodded again. She took a tentative step forward, sitting back down on the chair beside his bed.

“Who else?” he asked, without thinking. Annabeth frowned, a little confused.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean--” Percy started, realizing this might be a little too much too soon, but wanting to know so badly he couldn’t help but ask anyway, “I mean, who else am I close to?”

Annabeth didn’t answer for a long minute. She was looking down at the ground again, her hands gripping her own shoulders, arms shielding her chest. She seemed to be contemplating something, though what it was, Percy wasn’t sure.

Maybe he shouldn’t have asked that question. Maybe it was too personal-- with a start Percy realized that Annabeth was probably a pretty high priority for him, given the scant details he knew about their relationship, and him not knowing that intrinsically had to hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “Just forget it, tell me something else.”

She finally looked back up at him, though she still seemed upset and unsure.

“No, it’s fine,” she said, though she was clearly forcing her voice not to waver, “Like I said, you’re close to your mom, her name is Sally. You have a sister named Estelle and a brother named Tyson. And your best friend is--” she stumbled, but found herself again, “His name is Grover.”

Percy noticed that Annabeth’s own name was conspicuously absent from that list. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut, all things considered, but his curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to know this more than anything.

“What about you?” he asked, voice quiet.

It took her less time to answer than he expected, but she was still quiet for a minute.

“You asked me if I was single,” she said finally, eyes ducked down, a rosy blush growing in her cheeks, “And I said no because-- because we’re dating. We have been for a while.”

“Oh,” Percy said. He could feel his own face getting red, even though this was kind of great news-- or maybe not so great news, considering his stupid brain still couldn’t remember shit. But it still felt right, like a puzzle piece slotting into place. Of course he was dating her. That was just correct, an inalienable fact he felt dumb for not knowing, despite not knowing anything at all.

“Yeah,” she said, “But you don’t remember, so… so I don’t know anymore, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said, and he felt it. He felt like an idiot, both for trying to flirt with her earlier, and for not putting the pieces together sooner. The hand holding probably should have given it away, at the very least.

To his surprise, Annabeth gave him a small smile, even though her eyes were a little red. She wiped them on her sleeve, clearly trying not to do it in an obvious way.

“Sorry, it’s just-- that’s so you,” she said, sniffling a little.

“What’s so me?” Percy asked. He felt stupid, oblivious, but she just smiled again, a touch wider this time.

“Apologizing for something that isn’t even your fault.”

“I really am sorry,” Percy said, and he felt worse with every word, “I want to remember, I do, it’s just-- all of it’s gone.”

“I know,” she said. She sounded defeated. “I guess it would be too much to ask for you to remember me twice, huh?”

She said it like a joke, but Percy could feel the real pain behind her words. He felt an ache in his chest, like a phantom pain he couldn’t quite place, something in him mirroring her own hurt. He wanted so badly to comfort her, but he didn’t know how.

Or maybe he did. His brain was a jumbled mess, but he did know the only things that had made him feel anything since he’d woken up had to do with her.

“I… I almost get flashes,” he admitted, glancing up at her again. She wasn’t quite meeting his eye, looking somewhere over his shoulder, but he continued anyway. “When you say or do things… It’s like my body knows what to feel but my mind doesn’t know why.”

She glanced up, her eyes finally meeting his own. They were still shining with tears, though not as intensely as before.

“Like how?” she asked, simply. Percy swallowed heavily, not exactly sure what to say. It was hard to describe, given he’d barely recognized his own feelings.

“Like… like when you left, before. I was upset but I didn’t know why. I didn’t know you but I knew… I knew that was supposed to hurt, somehow. And when Will told me about how I got hurt in the first place, how I was trying to keep the frisbee thing from hitting you-- that felt right, but I don’t know why.”

She had graduated to crying in earnest now, tears slipping out of the corner of her eyes and falling down her cheeks. Percy felt the inexplicable urge to reach out and brush them away, but he knew he couldn’t. And that hurt too for some reason, a hollow aching in his chest he couldn’t quite place even though the reason for it was standing right in front of him.

“And right now,” Percy continued, even though maybe he shouldn’t, “You’re upset and I just feel this urge to do something, and I can’t because I don’t know how.”

“Percy, please--” she said, still crying, her voice rough with tears. He didn’t know what she was begging for, but he couldn’t help his next words slipping out, like his tongue knew more what to do than his mind.

“I don’t know anything about me, but I know-- I know I love you. I can feel it. I’m not just saying it either, I swear I can feel it.”

“Percy,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper this time.

“You have to help me, Annabeth. I don’t know what to do,” he said, and this time it was his turn for his voice to get thick, a lump in his throat obscuring his words.

“I--” she started, swallowing heavily, eyes welling with tears again, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes you do,” Percy said, and he was sure she did, something in him just knew, “You always do, don’t you?”

That felt right too, even if he couldn’t place why, but it seemed to mean more to her than to him. She stared at him, eyes wide and scared. She was so close now, close enough that he could see every freckle on her nose.

Annabeth looked so panicked that for a second a second, Percy thought she was going to hit him, but then she did the opposite. She leaned over and kissed him.

Her lips were soft and sweet, and she tasted like strawberries and salt. His lips seemed to know exactly what to do, moving against hers like they’d kiss her a thousand times-- and maybe they had. His hand moved, almost of its own accord to her hair, tangling in it, pulling her a fraction of an inch closer--

And then it hit him. The scent of her shampoo, lemony and sharp and familiar.

He gasped, not meaning to, but she pulled back, grey eyes wide.

“Percy?” she asked, hopeful even as she tried to hide it.

“Annabeth,” he said, trying not to panic as things started to float through his mind-- more than things, memories. Her face and her voice and her words, the feeling of her hand in his and her smile against his lips, it all started to flood back like it had never left.

“Are you--” she asked, her hands on his shoulders, gripping tight, too tight, but he didn’t even care.

“Annabeth,” he breathed, saying her name like a revelation, because it was, “You’re Annabeth Chase, you’re my girlfriend and an architect and you’re scared to death of spiders and you still sleep with a teddy bear--”

She cut him off at that last point, throwing her arms around him and hugging him harder than she ever had-- except for maybe that time she’d thought he was dead for two weeks and he’d crashed his own funeral. Percy hugged her back just as hard, because he actually remembered that.

It hadn’t all come back-- things were blurry, most things, actually. But Annabeth at least felt clear in his mind, a shining beacon welcoming the rest of his memories back. He was already starting to get a headache again, but he didn’t care. They would come back. And even if they didn’t-- he had her. That was enough.

She pulled back from her bone crushing embrace, keeping their faces so close their noses were almost touching. She seemed scared that if she pulled away he might too, even though he had no intention of doing so, physically or mentally.

“So you’re back? Really?” she asked, sounding scared to know the answer.

“Sort of,” Percy confirmed, wincing as he did. He really was starting to get a pounding headache. “I remember you. And bits and pieces of other things, but mostly you.”

Annabeth breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes for a long moment.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she whispered, her hands trailing up his neck, just barely scraping his hair.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he breathed. And he did know, now better than ever. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since he’d woken up without his memory, but he knew every minute of it had to have been hell for her.

Annabeth sighed, pulling back further, so he could see her whole face. Her eyes were still red from crying, and her cheeks were still flushed from their kiss. But he could see the barest traces of humor in her expression, a slight tug at the corner of her mouth where a smile was being repressed.

“What?” he asked, but she just shook her head.

“It’s nothing,” she said, but her smile had grown.

“Come on, I just had amnesia. You have to tell me.”

She laughed, a light tinkling sound. It was just on the edge of being hysterical, but she deserved it, after the day she’d been having.

“Fine. I was just thinking-- Hera couldn’t make you forget me but a glorified frisbee could?” Annabeth said.

“Hey, it was heavy!” Percy protested, but he couldn’t help but grin as he did. He would probably stay grinning for the rest of his life, actually.

“You’re such an idiot,” she breathed, pulling him into a hug again, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Percy said, hugging her back. And now he knew he did, in a permanent, tangible way.

There was still a lot missing, but he had the most important bits down. His name was Percy Jackson. He was twenty years old, and in college and a demigod, and lots of other things that would surely return with time.

And he loved Annabeth Chase more than anything in the world.

#this is so cheesy and so long <3 #bon apple teeth #percabeth #percy jackson #percabeth fic #pjo #annabeth chase #pjo fic #percabeth fanfic #i already have more prompts in my inbox than i will realistically every finish #so on a technical level i am not taking more #but if you send one and i like it i might write it anyway lmao #no guarantees though!!

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unknown-writing · 3 years

Text

It’s hard doing this on my own...

Summary: You’ve gone into another Depressive state...This time. It’s far more violent than the last Depressive spell.

Warning(s): TRIGGERING CONTENT ABOUT EXTREME DEPRESSIVE EPISODES! DO NOT READ IF YOUR NOT COMFORTABLE! Ends with fluff. No gifs.

Word count: 2.9k+

A/N: I’m ok.

Luffy has always known you were...Different, than the others. Sure, everybody in the crew went through some tough times in their past but, they made up for that time to make them and their friends smile more. You however...Struggled with genuinely smiling these days again.

It concerned him how distant and emotionless you became. You kept yourself locked away inside that room, to protect the others from being hurt or feeling guilty...All he saw was that you were locked away in a Cage of Sadness that he couldn’t seem to pull you out of no matter how hard he tried too.

Tonight was no exception to his daily routine. He placed the food that Sanji had made on the floor so you could grab it whenever you were ready, then sat down beside your door on the floor of the ship. “Y/n-san...Dinner’s here....” He said loud enough for you to hear, but not enough to startle you.

Nothing....Just silence.

He waited for a few more minutes before getting worried that you weren’t opening the door for the food, but before his worry could worsen. Your door slightly opened wide enough to drag the tray back in...He wanted to see your face again...He missed it. he missed /you/. Shockingly enough, you /didn’t/ close the door after grabbing the food. Which confused him to say the least because you never allowed him to see you So Sad.

“Y/n-san?” he called out, stepping up to walk into the room, only to pause when he sees you...So....Hurt. It hurt /him/ seeing you like this. His body moved on it’s own and he hugged you tightly, quite literally wrapping his arms around your body.

You didn’t do anything...No smiles, no tears....Nothing.

That worried him.

“Y-Y/n-san?...” He calls out to you as he still held you. You looked up at him with dead, red eyes from crying so much before now. “Sorry...Luffy...” You weakly started then gave an expressionless chuckle that lacked any kind of excitement, worrying him further, “I can’t feel anything....”

That hit him like a two ton truck. “Can’t feel anything?” What did that mean? Was his hug not working?...He hugged tighter...No real response other than a grunt from being hugged tighter., It didn’t irritate you. It was just uncomfortable and hard to breath properly. Luffy got sad when you didn’t show any response towards his hugs like you used too. So he let go to let you breath better. “You can’t.....Feel anything y/n-san??” He asked again as he held your face, staring dead in your emotionless, empty eyes.

“No....Sorry....” You simply responded, only feeling his hands /slightly/ on your face. Luffy frowned, he was confused on why you were so numb and emotionless now. Was it the Depression you mentioned before? Or was somebody taking your feelings from you against your will? All he could do was sigh and then lift you up bridal style, it hurt not seeing you get flustered about it, but instead, look limp and dead-like in his arms. You seemed a lot more heavier than he expected as well.

He went to chopper, asking for help on what to do, the whole crew was there with you as you just...Quietly sat on the chair you were placed on, and stared at the floor while absorbing everything in. “She’s broken?...” Luffy asked, confused on how you could be broken “Well...Not exactly....But, it’ll take a VERY long time for them to gain their feelings back to normal....They’re hurting.” Choppers words affected the crew, as they were all friends with you. But more importantly, Luffy was affected the most since he was your boyfriend.

Several months later, Luffy did his hardest to try and make your life just a little bit easier for you. Protecting you during battles. making sure the crew respected your wishes when it came to privacy. Making sure that you ate and slept a healthy amount of each thing so you wouldn’t hurt yourself anymore than you were.

The crew was celebrating another Team-Up mission with the Heart Pirates, they knew that Law was a Doctor so, they confirmed that you did in fact, have Severe Depression...And it started getting REALLY bad over time, but that a shift was going to change after a while. Which surprised Luffy to say the least but, he didn’t force you to change for anything.

You were off in your own corner with Zoro, as the two of you had gotten to be close friends before your Depressive state. Luffy was sitting with the two of you since he’s gotten fairly protective over you, over the last several months. You just drinking some Tea and had some of your favorites out of this feast that Sanji and the Heart’s crew had prepared for everybody, minding your own business as you absorbed everything.

You felt....Lighter...MUCH lighter than before...It’s not 100% happiness but, it’s /something/ to say the least. Zoro saw the slight shine that came back to your eyes for a split second, but didn’t comment on it and just left you be. Meanwhile, Luffy was reenacting his fight with a recent enemy that was super strong, you listened in every now and then, but heard that Luffy nearly got killed.

That worried you...Your face warped in concern but, went away fairly quick when he said that he managed to make it out somewhat alright thanks to the crew. You were thankful for them keeping him alive. He was your boyfriend after all.

Your boyfriend........

Your Boyfriend.....

The thought of the fact that you nearly lost your boyfriend to an enemy hit you like a two ton truck. You sat there deadpanned, but you felt something Wet falling down your cheeks. You didn’t move or say anything. Luffy paused when he heard a faint sniffle from your throat...You were crying.

He started to panic, wondering why you were crying all of a sudden. You rubbed your face and held up a hand to make him pause, “I...I’m ok....I’m ok...” You repeated, “How are you ok y/n-san!? Your crying!” he yelled, worried that his story may have triggered you into a relapse. Once you started calming down, you chuckled, albeit it was very soft and awkward, “Sorry...I’m Sorry...It’s just...The thought of losing my boyfriend got me more upset than my Depression that I started crying...” You admitted, now shocking Luffy and the crew that could hear you.

Luffy paused, somewhat stunned by you just admitting that outright...”Y/n-san?...” he asked while waiting for a response from you...You weren’t exactly back to normal, but the very, /very/ small smile you gave was Bright enough for him to notice that you were coming back from being so numb for so long. Luffy was ecstatic to say the least. Even if your smile was small and awkward. You still /smiled/ after so long of being unable too.

Luffy shouted your name out when he flung into your lap, startling you, which caught /everybody’s attention/ this time and turned to see what was happening. Much to their surprise. There you were. Giving a soft smile as your boyfriend hugged you tightly, keeping you close to him. The crew sighed in relief that you were starting to express emotions again.

----------------------------------

Sanji was always in-tune with your emotions. He could sense that something would be eating at you before you even mentioned it, he made himself become synced with your emotions so that way he could be there for you in any way possible, even if it’s for a short time.

However, when your too quiet and distant. He can’t really do much to help you out. He can’t guess what your feeling that day because you’re avoiding him and the others. He can’t be there for you for emotional support if you’re not willing to accept it from him.

Soon enough. After a couple of months of realizing this familiar pattern of yours, he knew what was up. He knew that you were having yet another Really Bad Depressive episode again...Only this time, it seemed to be FAR worse than what happened the last time. Lasting a longer time than usual...It affected him quite a lot. He felt guilty that he couldn’t hold you or kiss you goodnight/good morning. He couldn’t so much as see your face because you refused to let him see this Ugly Demon of yours.

Today was different. It felt off to him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but, while he was out shopping for food supplies on this small Island with the others. Nami had left YOU to take care of the ship. Sanji had to force Usopp to stay behind and help in case the ship got attacked while they were gone.

“--anji-kun??” Nami called out, “SANJI-KUN!!” She yelled, snapping him out of his worried trance over you. “H-Huh?? Sorry..What were you saying??” he asked, snapping back to reality. Nami could only groan in irritation, sighing as she rubbed her face. “Look. If your that worried about y/n-san. Then go back to the ship. Give me your grocery list and I’ll do the shopping for you.” She says while shooing him.

You weren’t expecting to be outside of your room...But it’s not like it was your fault to begin with. You gave an irritated scowl as the guy held you in his bigger arms, practically choking you in the process. You were being used as a hostage to calm down Usopp, and hopefully lure out the other Straw Hats to collect their bounties and turn them in.

“Right...We’ll be taking this lovely lady as well with your treasure...” The guy starts off, but saw that Usopp was about to fight back, so he held out a gun to your head and chuckled. “Don’t even try anything...You move, this girl gets her head blown off.” He threatens before going into a chuckle fit. You looked up at him with your expressionless eyes, a smile was there but, it was creepy. “Sure...go ahead and kill me....But, I don’t think you got the stomach to handle that.” You teased, giving out a small Pfftt sound effect afterwards when he cringed and released you, just letting you fall on your knees.

“Y-Y/n-san! Don’t give him any ideas!!” Usopp shouted, scared for you. All you could do was sigh sadly, “As I thought...” You paused to look up, “You didn’t have the guts to shoot...” You teased again, making the Pirate Hunter flinch again and re-point the gun at you face in point-blank range. “Creepy girl.” He insulted.

But before he could shoot, his head got kicked in and his aim barely missed your head. You sat there, wide-eyed when you saw your boyfriend Sanji, He looked angry as he was literally on fire. You then saw his face up close when he started to fight the other guys, kicking them off the ship or sending them flying into the deeper part of the ocean. By the time he was done, the main leader of the Pirate Hunters had been placed underneath his foot, Sanji was holding his face there, you could see the other guy’s face warping in fear for his own life

Sanji then lifted his leg up, and then a loud /thump/ rang in your ear. he crushed the guy’s skull in, killing him right in front of you. “DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT HURTING /MY/ Y/N-SAN!” He screamed, which made the last remaining few of the Pirate hunters run for it, jumping overboard as they panicked in fear from Black-Leg Sanji.

You stayed still. Shocked as to what exactly had happened. You were about to be killed while you were Depressed....You /wanted it/..You /craved it/....But even so, the feeling of being rescued by your boyfriend...Overwhelmed you. You stayed still and started to cry out loud, startling Sanji out of his anger-trance to go to you and hold you tightly. At first, you didn’t do anything. But after a while, the crying got worse, you clung to him for dear life.

You /wanted to die/...But even so...Being saved by him made you thankful for the save he just did. “T-Thank you Sanji!! I....I thought I w-was gonna...Gonna die!” You panicked, somewhat yelling within your hiccupped sobs. Sanji kept you close and did his best to calm you down from your meltdown, cooing you as he ignored Usopp and his surroundings. “I’m just glad that your feeling better y-y/n-san...” He says, knowing that you weren’t 100% there but, you were alive regardless.

---------------------------

Despite how Zoro is. He instantly knew that you weren’t.../There/ mentally for the last while the first minute he saw that you hadn’t woken up with him in his bed this time.

This time however....Had gotten pretty bad. A lot of your old habits started showing themselves but, they seemed to be doubled over time. At first he decided to just....Leave you be, in case if you just needed the time to yourself so that way you can focus on getting better. But...Over time when this started to become a constant with your routine. That’s when his panic really started to kick in.

Today marked the 34th day that you kept in your room. Sure, you’d peak out for food and something to drink or snack on, but that was way in the beginning. It’s been three weeks since you barely showed up. Zoro paced back and forth in front of your room, softly mumbling to himself on what he should do. Should he knock on the door? No, that’d startle you..Should he just barge in if it’s unlocked? No..You’d probably hate him if he did that..What if you were blacked out? Or sick? oR DEAD!? “Zoro....If you keep pacing back and forth like that...It won’t fix anything...” Nami said in a worried tone of voice, seeing her friend pace back and forth with worry. Zoro only scoffed and shooed her out. so he could focus on helping you somehow.

Suddenly, a loud /thump/ echoed your room when he listened in, that was enough to get him to just slam the door open in a frenzy, worried out of his god damn mind on what was happening. “Y/n!?” He called out....Nothing. he looked around your small room and noticed that it was a complete disaster. it seemed like you had fought somebody in here. he clicked his tongue, disappointed in himself for being unable to be there during one of your meltdowns when you needed him most.

He paused when he saw your body on the ground, panicking, he started calling out your name loudly. You weren’t dead...Thank god. But you were very weak...Too weak. Zoro yelled to get the other crew member’s attention as he lifted up your weakened body. You were breathing but, it was heavy. “The hell happened??” He asked, feeling a sense of guilt start to wash over, before he moved further though, he felt something tap against his boot. “A bottle?” he turned it over so he could get the label and read it’s content.

He couldn’t fully read it properly but, he got enough of an idea that it completely shocked him. Before the others had arrived, he rushed with your limp body to Chopper’s “office” so he could check up on what was happening with you from a professional...He had an idea but, he didn’t want to assume either.

“Y/n was trying to overdose on something.” Chopper said bluntly while looking at the content from the blood he took from you. He sighed and noticed that it was a medicine that he used to numb his patience when they need severe stitches. “But...They’ll be ok....Luckily you caught them just in time Zoro. Anymore of this could’ve killed them.” Zoro didn’t say much. he just thanked Chopper for the hard work and patted his head gently.

It took a while for you to get back to normal after that night. You felt extremely guilty and kept apologizing to both Zoro and the rest of the crew for what you tried to do. At first, they where angry but after a while, they understood what you were going through and left you alone. Zoro on the other hand, was NOT happy....Not one bit. He wasn’t /livid/ either but, he wasn’t too pleased with what he saw. The scene of him finding your nearly dead body kept playing in his mind. he was terrified of losing you, so terrified that it actually scared him.

Eventually though, you and Zoro were able to talk a little less awkwardly now. The two of you stayed in the workout room just talking about random stuff. A small silence filled the air after a while...You sighed, rubbing the back of your head awkwardly. “...Thank you...” You say quietly, but loud enough for Zoro to hear. “...For saving me that night...” After hearing you thank him for saving you. At first, he wanted to be petty and make you sit in that guilt for a bit.

But after a short few moment, he caved in and wrapped his arms around you tightly. You didn’t say anything but, you could tell he was upset, as he shivered a bit within the hug. “Don’t ever do that again y/n...” He starts off then paused to inhale, “If you need to talk to somebody. I’m here. I’ll always be here.” he lets go so that way he can kiss your forehead and put you on his lap to cuddle you again. “I can’t stand the thought of you not being by my side.” he admits, which really warmed your heart.

You sighed and patted his head gently, “...I promise to turn to you from now on.” You say as the two of you cuddled then fell asleep in each others arms.

#tw// depression #tw/ suicidal attempt #tw// heavy mental themes #Do not read if your uncomfortable #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #one piece x reader

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mygodyouredivine · 3 years

Text

The Hell In Your Eyes - 2

Summary: Loki doesn't meet her until two weeks after his initial imprisonment, but he knows he hates her. He has to hate her. Because the way she talks to him and helps him and saves him meals can't mean anything. She is too soft to deal with Loki, who is hardened with pain, pain, and more pain. And Loki hates soft things.

Have you ever seen the hell in someone’s eyes and loved it anyway?

Characters: Loki Laufeyson/(f)Reader

Warnings: mild blood

Word Count: 3498

Previous Chapter

It’s 5 in the morning.

The sun isn’t even out yet and you’re standing in the kitchen, dressed in your pajamas, preparing smoothies. You thought you’d be used to waking up early, considering how you always used to make smoothies before everyone else woke up, but apparently your recent ‘break’ has thrown off your internal schedule. In fact, if not for FRIDAY’s not-so-gentle reminder of your morning plans, you wouldn’t have gotten up in time.

You shake your head, tightening your grip on the mason jar you’re holding.

It won’t happen again.

It can’t.

Not when you’re already in everyone’s way, always leeching off of Tony’s money, always causing trouble for Steve and making Bucky worry. Not when Natasha always feels a need to look after you and Wanda constantly checks in. Not when Sam and Clint feel obligated to train with you and Thor treats you like you’re going to break — going to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces and then cut and bleed all over the tower’s expensive, clean floors.

No. If you can’t even do something as simple as making smoothies for the people you’re always inconveniencing, what use are you?

Your fingers tighten and you can feel your nails digging into the hard glass of the mason jar. For a second, you wonder if it’s possible for you to scratch the class. You clench your fingers — hard — in an effort to break the glass. Just once, you want to break something else. But as you loosen your grip, you’re forced to come to terms with the fact that the jar is just as pristine as it always was.

Not a single crack. Not even a scratch.

The jar is fine — the jar is always fine. But your fingers are dented and your joints are sore and you’re so tired of this. Of always being the one who is damaged. The only one who is ever damaged. Everyone else is always unscathed and no one else ever breaks.

You drop the mason jar.

Shit.

It falls to the ground and you watch as it shatters all over the floor.

Maybe Thor is right. Maybe you are going to shatter one day, just like that mason jar.

But it’s not going to be today. Breath quickening, you furiously remind yourself that it’s okay.

It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.

It’s not you on the floor. Maybe one day it is going to be you, lying there broken and useless and fractured and gone, but right now, it's not. You’re still full and whole and not broken and the glittering glass fragments on the floor aren’t you. Looking back down, your eyes catch on droplets of red. Your breath stops and the air in your lungs still. Sure, the glass on the floor isn’t your ground-up soul, shattered and crushed, but the blood is yours.

There are specks of blood splattered amidst the glass, staining the kitchen’s pristine floor. And you know it’s your blood because you can feel it dripping from your fingers where the glass cut into your skin and you can’t help but stare as a drop of it rolls off your middle finger and falls to the ground and you flinch as it lands in a little crimson circle.

It’s pretty, though.

And you can’t look away as another drop falls, landing directly on top of the previous one, doubling the size of the puddle. For a second, you wonder how much blood it would take to cover the entire floor — and if your body has enough.

But then you hear footsteps approaching and you hastily kneel onto the ground, furiously attempting to clean up the mess you made, to fix it. More blood trickles from your fingertips as you desperately grab at the broken pieces. You’re making it worse.

The glass blurs and you frantically blink, trying to rid yourself of the tears beginning to form in your eyes. The last thing you need is to cry — for your tears to mingle with your blood — for you to appear even weaker than you already do.

But you are weak. You can’t even win this battle — against yourself, and you feel the tears overflow and you watch as they fall, turning the dark red into a lighter pink.

It's a pretty pink.

It’s a pink that reminds you of the first lipstick you ever bought. You and your best friend had gone down to the convenience store after school, sneakily carrying the lunch money you’d both saved. You remember counting the coins together and excitedly running towards the makeup aisle, where the both of you promptly agonized over the perfect lipstick for the better part of an hour.

Eventually, you settled on a sparkly little tube of lipstick — more of a chapstick really, and you can distinctly recall how it smelled like heaven and tasted like strawberries, and how it always tinted your lips just the slightest bit pink.

But right now, the pink you’re staring at isn’t lipstick, and you can very clearly make out two feet standing before you. Looking up, you meet a pair of eyes. Blue, like the sky on a sunny day. It’s a blue filled with promises of picnics and lemonade and daisies, of innocence and childhood, of strawberry lipstick. And in this moment, you want nothing more than to drown in that blue.

Maybe if you bleed enough blood and cry enough tears you can drown in it. Maybe you can drown in the perfect shade of pink while staring into the perfect shade of blue.

______________________________

For such a muscly man, Thor’s fingers are surprisingly soft.

The god is currently standing before you, carefully bandaging your cut hands.

“My lady, I thought you specifically told me that blood smoothies were not appetizing.” His attempt at humor brings a smile to your face, but you can’t do more. Shrugging, you answer.

“Well, I guess I’m just a hypocrite.” His eyes squint, his eyebrows furrow, and you can tell he’s about to reassure you. You hurriedly continue. “Even the best of us make mistakes, Lord of Thunder.”

Thor’s eyebrows relax again, and the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles. Relief courses through your veins. You wonder if Thor can feel it in the blood that is still leaking from your fingers. Gently, you tug your hands out of his grasp, just in case. Sending out a silent prayer of thanks to whatever prompted you to wear your black sweatpants today, you try not to grimace as the fabric brushes against your injured legs. At the very least, they conceal the blood.

Thor doesn’t need to know about those. It’s bad enough that he’s already seen you dissolving into an emotional puddle earlier, not to mention how the literal King of Asgard had cleaned up the mess you made and is now attempting to inspect your hands again.

“Were you planning on making the smoothies this morning, my lady?” Thor’s voice interrupts your thoughts and you look up, meeting his poorly-disguised-concerned gaze.

“Yup.” You nod, popping the p . “I’m glad to be back, and I wanted to start making you guys smoothies before your morning workouts again. I know for a fact that whatever concoction you made yesterday was an absolute disaster.”

Thor looks sheepish as he smiles, his hands running through his short blonde hair. “My brother would agree with you.”

At this, you suddenly remember. You need to get Loki’s smoothie preference, as well as the time he wakes up. You know everyone’s preferred flavors, as well as their morning routines, to ensure your smoothies are always as fresh as possible.

“Speaking of Loki, when does he wake up?”

Thor shrugs, a confused look flitting across his face. “Truth be told, I don’t really know. Loki and I haven’t inhabited the same space in quite some time, and I am not familiar with his routines.”

“Oh.” That would be slightly hard to work with. “Uh, well do you know what type of smoothie he might prefer?”

Thor’s lips turn down into a pout. “I don’t think Loki would like any type of smoothie, my lady. Yesterday he made his distaste for smoothies quite clear."

Before you can interrupt and remind him that his smoothie most definitely tasted nothing like your smoothies, he continues with a wink. "But I suppose if anyone could make a smoothie Loki does approve of, it would be you, my lady."

You know Thor is somewhat disappointed by Loki’s lack of enthusiasm towards his smoothie. It’s easy to detect, even under his charming antics. Thor’s lips turn downward when he is upset, and he always picks at his nails. Sometimes he will suck in his cheek, and that’s when you know he is truly in a mood. But Thor never stays sad for long.

His expression has brightened up again, and Thor is back, his ever-chipper energy once again emanating from within his warm eyes. There’s not a single trace of conflict in his eyes, and you wonder, for the hundredth time, how he does it. Thor has seen so much death — caused it, even — and been through so much pain, yet he is always able to hold it together, always able to smile and laugh and come back stronger.

Thor is the embodiment of the word 'golden'. No matter how much dirt and grime Life layers on top of him, nothing could ever dim his luster.

You think you're closer to being the dirt and grime than you ever were to being gold.

“Thanks Thor.”

______________________________

In the end, you settle on making Loki Thor’s favorite smoothie. After all, Thor is the only other god here who has dined on the finest Asgardian delicacies, and if he likes your chocolate-strawberry smoothies, you just hope Loki does too.

The only difference is, Thor prefers his smoothies absurdly sweet. Whether it’s his insane metabolism or the ten thousand calories he burns a day, he never seems to be affected by the hundreds of grams of sugar you’re sure he consumes.

You’re carefully pouring the smoothie into two mason jars when Nat comes into the kitchen. You smile and motion towards her drink sitting on the counter. Natasha prefers a green smoothie, packed with kale and spinach and cucumbers and ginger — not the best tasting thing you’ve ever made, but it must do something , ‘cause Nat looks like she doesn’t understand what the word ‘bloating’ means.

The redhead raises an eyebrow, motioning to the second mason jar you’re carefully pouring. “Does Thor drink two of those every morning now?”

“Well, no. This one's for Loki. I don’t know what he prefers, so I thought I’d make him Thor’s favorite for now. Except without the whipped cream and excessive number of chocolate chips.”

Nat’s other eyebrow raises. “You’re kidding right? Angel, stay away from Loki. He’s a dangerous man. He’s deranged and unstable and selfish. He’s not going to appreciate your smoothie.”

And with that, all the self doubt rushes back in. The self hatred that Thor’s fingers had smoothed away, the shame that bled from your fingertips, it all rushes back in, pumping through your veins and into your heart.

“Do you appreciate my smoothie?” You hadn’t meant for it to come out, and you certainly hadn’t meant for it to sound so insecure.

Nat’s eyes widen, and she hastily retreats. “Nono Angie, that's not what I meant. Come on, you know all of us love your smoothies. What I’m trying to say is —” her fingers meet her forehead in a gesture of frustration “ — we appreciate and love you for all that you do, but Loki won’t. He’s too arrogant and he definitely thinks we’re all beneath him.”

With that, she moves closer to you and envelopes you in a hug. Natasha means well, you know that, but she doesn’t realize how her words come off — how she just backed up the little voice inside your head, repeatedly telling you that you’re worthless. You wonder if she even wants your smoothie, or if she just humors you. And then her arms retreat from around you, and she steps back.

“Sorry Angie, but I’ve got to go now. I love you — we all do. You know that right?”

You nod, and smile. “Thanks Nat. I love you too.”

______________________________

Natasha’s smoothie has separated. The blended ingredients have floated to the top, and the green liquid has settled below. The abandoned smoothie sits on the edge of the counter, where she left it, only reaffirming your suspicions that she didn’t really want it in the first place. Dimly, you consider dumping Loki’s smoothie out. Maybe Natasha is right. But you don’t really want to waste any food, so you move to put his smoothie in the fridge. Maybe Thor will drink it later.

(If he even likes them.)

But as you open the fridge door, you notice the plate of leftovers you snagged yesterday is gone. The saran wrapped plate is missing, and you don’t think anyone would have taken it, except…? You look around for the plate. It’s not in the sink or left on the counter, nor lying in the dishwasher. You find it in the cabinets, placed directly on top of its companions.

You’re confident that no one in this tower would clean their plate after eating, except maybe Steve. But Steve isn’t here — he made his famous lasagna last night because he was leaving for a mission early today. So really, that just leaves Loki.

Is it possible that Nat was wrong?

Did Loki take the food you left for him? And ate all of it? And cleaned up?

You suddenly remember yesterday, walking in on Loki scrubbing blood off the floor. You can’t say you were surprised Thor had left a mess, but you were somewhat surprised Loki was cleaning it up. Maybe it is possible then.

So you decide to bring the smoothie to Loki.

First, you make a quick stop at your room. Your legs are really starting to sting, and you don’t want the sweatpants to dry onto your skin. Damn. You’re going to have to wash these again, and you just did laundry. But it’s okay, and soon you’re walking out of your room, clad in another pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, holding Loki’s smoothie.

You take the elevator and press the familiar button of Thor’s floor. Mentally, you’re once again debating whether or not this is a good idea. You’ve almost decided to just turn back when the elevator doors slide open and you make eye contact with Loki, who is standing awkwardly in the doorway of his room, one foot inside the door and one foot in the plush carpet of the Odinsons’ shared living room.

His eyebrows are raised comically in an expression of surprise, and for a second you don’t see the intimidating god.

But then the moment passes, and he straightens, eyes narrowing, eyebrows drawing together in a frown. “Can I help you?”

A part of you — a large part of you — wants to leave immediately. To apologize for disturbing him and go back to your room. But another part of you, the one who caught a glimpse of Loki before he threw up his defenses, roots you to the ground.

“Actually, yeah. I made you a smoothie.” You stick out your hand, ignoring the way it trembles slightly. “I know Thor’s smoothie probably tasted like shit, so I thought I’d make you one to show you how it's done.”

When he doesn’t move, you step further into the living room and set the smoothie down. One of Thor’s hoodies is lying haphazardly across the coffee table, so you pick it up. Loki is staring at you.

There’s an awkward silence, and you wish he would say something. Anything. But the raven haired prince is as stoic as ever. His eyes are still boring into your own and you can’t help but notice how strikingly different they are from Thor’s.

Somehow, you’re engaged in a staring contest with the god — and you don’t really want to lose. In an effort, perhaps, to prove to yourself that you’re not weak (especially after the morning’s incident) you resist the increasing temptation to blink. You don’t want Loki to think you’re scared of him, even though you may be a bit wary , and you continue to stare into his eyes.

They say eyes are the windows to the soul. If that’s true, Loki has a very — empty soul. It’s neither warm nor cold, just vacant . It’s almost as if you’re staring into the eyes of someone long dead.

With that, you shiver, and surprisingly, Loki breaks the intense eye contact. He looks away then, and his head tilts downward.

“Right then. I’ll just be on my way.” You hold up Thor’s hoodie. “I’m going to do some laundry. Do you have anything that needs to be washed?”

You hope he doesn’t ignore you. You really don’t need that today. You just need to be productive. To do something — to help someone. And maybe he senses that, because Loki actually nods and walks back into his bedroom, leaving you to stand awkwardly in the middle of the lavish living space.

A few moments later, Loki reemerges, effortlessly holding a laundry hamper.

“Would you like me to take this down?”

You’re a bit stunned by his unexpected and considerate offer, but your desire to prove yourself shines through.

“Nah, I got it. Thanks.”

With that, you lug Loki’s hamper and Thor’s hoodie out of their room, leaving Loki’s smoothie — and an intense hope he drinks it — behind.

______________________________

Loki is an unbelievably neat person.

His dirty clothes are folded — inside his hamper. And organized by article, as well as color. You don’t think he realizes how — awkward — it makes the entire process. After carefully shoving his button downs, slacks, sweaters, and jeans into the washer, you’re left with an interesting assortment of clothing.

His undershirts are ridiculously soft, and you resist the urge to snag one. This isn’t Thor, you remind yourself. After piling them in, you stare at his hamper. Loki has folded his socks, which are paired together. You sincerely hope the washer doesn’t decide to eat one of them, as you doubt he understands the Midgardian concept of missing socks.

Below his socks are… Loki’s boxers. You wipe away the mental image your mind involuntarily conjures and quickly dump the rest of the clothing into the washer, without touching anything.

With that, you throw in Thor’s hoodie and your sweatpants, start the cycle, and leave, shaking your head.

On the way back to your room, you realize that Loki has a very limited closet. All of his laundry had barely filled up his hamper, and you notice how most of his clothing consisted of somewhat uncomfortable items. You haven’t seen him around due to your break, but from his clothing you can assume that Loki has a very different fashion taste than Thor. Mentally, you make a note to slip him some of your oversized hoodies when returning his clothes.

______________________________

You’re immensely thankful for Thor. He always seems to have the best — or worst — timing, and this time he has saved you from a rather embarrassing situation.

You’re pulling Loki’s clothes out of the dryer (having already stolen Thor’s hoodie), and you’ve just started to fold his clothes. So far, you’ve shoved a forest green hoodie at the very bottom of the hamper, and you’re in the process of carefully layering Loki’s sweaters over it. Thankfully, the dryer is still mostly full, and you haven’t been confronted with the dilemma of handling Loki’s underwear again.

Luckily, Thor walks in before you have to.

“Are you doing Loki’s laundry, my lady?” His voice startles you and you jump, but manage to not drop Loki’s earthy brown sweater.

“No,” you deadpan, “These are all mine.”

Thor smiles that smile you’re so familiar with, and you can’t help but grin back. “Well, let me take it from here.” His grin falters for a moment, and he looks more serious when he continues. “Thank you Angel, for giving Loki a chance. I know he can be — difficult. And I wouldn’t blame you if you only saw the villain.”

You meet Thor’s eyes, always filled with emotion — whether that be happiness or warmth, sadness or anger, and you think back to another pair of eyes. Soulless. You think of Loki, and you think of how you’ve seen those soulless eyes before; every single time you look into a mirror. And for a second, you let yourself believe that maybe Loki’s soul wasn’t voluntarily taken from him either. Maybe his cruelty is his defense, just like yours is the fake-happiness that you wear as a shield.

“It’s no problem Thor.” You smile, your shield intact. “I couldn’t let him suffer with your smoothies forever, no matter how villainous he might be.”

______________________________

Cruelty is just loneliness disguised as bitterness.

- Tom Hiddleston

______________________________

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Taglist: @spacedaddydinn @doct0rstrange

#loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x reader #loki series #the hell in your eyes #thiye #loki x you #friends to enemies to lovers #reader insert #loki fic #jouce writes

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mintmatcha · 3 years

Text

10 Months

Matsukawa and Hanamaki

Part One

CW: mentions of death and illness, ANGST

Today’s just another day at work. Someone’s dead and someone else is talking about it.

The worst part of the job, Mattsun decides, isn’t consoling the grieving or dealing with the aftermath of death: it’s listening to these shitty, repetitive speeches. There’s only so many times a man can hear about God’s plan and how much better someone is now that they’ve entered the great beyond before he goes numb. Sure, yes, logically, he understands this is all sad, but before all else?

It’s boring.

Has he always been this bitter? Has he always been this good at choking down his feelings? Probably.

Mattsun looks away from the speaker at the front of the room, who's droning on about some shit while practically draped over the coffin. He does a precursory scan across the room, making sure everyone was properly teary eyed and mourning, before pulling out his phone. Maybe it’s unprofessional, but it doesn’t matter. No one’s looking at the funeral director during these things. If they were, it was something for them to discuss later during the reception.

'Did you see that employee?'

'No, I was crying.'

'He was on his phone!'

'How horrible!'

Just before he can open Twitter, a glimpse of unforgettable, bright strawberry blonde hair catches his eye. For a moment, he ignores it off. He’s used to imagining things, used to his brain searching for hints of pink wherever he goes. He's used to turning his head to see it was a trick of the eye.

But this time the color doesn’t fade. Instead, it comes into focus, catching the light that pours through the stained glass windows, rainbows painted across pale skin. All at once, the presence becomes real, and Mattsun feels like he’s seen a ghost.

Not a literal one, but, fuck, he might as well be.

It’s been years since he’s seen Makki, longer since they actually talked, but there he was, standing at the back of the parlor with an obituary in hand. He loathes himself for the way excitement bubbles inside him and his heart gets caught in his throat… and then immediately drops as he processes why Makki would be here. He tries to remember the last name of the deceased, hoping the last name wouldn’t be familiar. Makki’s dad was never in good health, could it be-

No, he definitely would have recognized anyone else with the last name Hanamaki.

That’s when it hits him that Makki isn’t dressed for the funeral. In a sea of black, he’s wearing some raggedy sweatshirt with coffee split down the sleeve and a loose pair of jeans, ripped in all the wrong places. Frankly, he looks like shit, but he’s just leaning against the door frame, standing there like he belongs, with a tiny little grin on his face.

Makki never looks over, too involved in the speech, but he’s aware of Mattsun’s presence. His torso is angled to face his old friend, chest broad and inviting. Mattsun hates that after all these years, he can still read his body language and understand what it means. It’s an invitation to come over.

Mattsun has to stop himself from going over there. Time has passed, he’s made his choices. He can’t just drop his work for an old friend.

No, not a friend. Stranger adjacent.

He’s made his choices.

He stays where he should be, in the corner, for what feels like hours, autopiloting through the rest of the service. By the time it’s all over, and the lights are dimmed, Makki’s already gone.

Mattsun hates that he knows exactly where to find him.

They find each other behind the parlor, wedged between the building and the dumpster. Makki’s sitting on the curb, legs folded up under him and pressed into his chest. That signature smile hasn’t faded, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He pats the empty space next to him, but Mattsun just shakes his head and stays standing.

“Just like high school, huh?” Makki says, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pouch. He taps the bottom four times, then shakes it, hard. Waking up the cancer, making sure it’s out of bed, he used to joke.

“Except we aren’t hiding from teachers anymore.” Mattsun kicks at a crumpled soda can and watches it bounce across the asphalt. “And you’ve changed brands.”

“Now we’re hiding from your boss.” Makki pulls a stick out and waves it, “And Iwaizumi’s not here to bitch about it.”

“Dude,” Mattsun tries not to sigh, but it sneaks out. The casual act was unsettling; Makki was pretending that past 3 years never happened. “I’m happy to see you and all, but I’m working right now.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Makki pats his pockets frantically, then pulls out a small pink lighter. It's not the same pink as his hair, but it's close. He brushes it against his pants, back then forward, opening it and lighting it in one smooth motion. He holds out the cigarette, twirling it between his fingers, “Help me light this, why don’t you?”

Mattsun blanches, scoffing in annoyance at the thought. There's the flash of a memory, Hiro's fingers against his lips, holding the cigarettes for him as he breathes in, skinned knees brushing against each other, but he pushes it down.

“Hanamaki, I-”

“I’ve been demoted to just Hanamaki, huh?” he places it between his teeth and sets it alight, sucking in until the end glows orange. He holds still, savoring the moment, then lets out his breath, smoke seeping out through his teeth. “So, it turns out that I need to plan a funeral.”

Mattsun lets his apathy break, just for a moment. He runs his hands through his hair, completely fucking up the slicked back style as he processes this. “Fuck, dude, I’m sorry.”

“Eh, don’t be.” Makki shrugs, “Not the end of the world.”

Mattsun blinks, trying to shake off the initial shock. He just lets his work persona take over. “Well, we would be happy to help you plan. We can scheduling for next week in my office, if you want-”

“There’s no rush, don’t worry.” Makki leans back and faces the sun. Even though he’s sitting on the ground, no more than 5 feet from garbage, he seems so peaceful.

“Who’s it for?” Mattsun asks the obvious question and Makki grins wider, like he’s been waiting for this moment. He waggles his fingers in the air, like he’s celebrating.

“Me.” Makki says. He rolls his head forward and that pleasant air about him fades. It strikes Mattsun that he’s lost weight since high school; his already sharp features are more sullen, sunken into his face. “I’m dying.”

How hadn’t he noticed earlier? He spent so much time looking at Hiro in high school, so much time studying his features…. How could he miss such a dramatic change? Even now, he can remember exactly how the curve his cheek felt under his thumb, how smooth his skin was. Mattsun doesn’t realize he’s sitting until loose gravel bites into the palms of his hands.

“Fuck, dude.” he can only look straight ahead, focusing on nothing, “Are--- are you sure?”

“As sure as medical science can get,” he has the audacity to laugh, “I got brain cancer.”

Brain cancer. Mattsun knows what that means in a vague sense and yet it means almost nothing to him. Questions bubble up in his mind, all of them swimming around, begging for any sort of information to make this all make sense.

"How long?" He wanted to ask anything else, but that’s the only sentence he could form.

" 'bout 7 inches.” Makki pauses for affect, “Oh, you meant how long do I have left to live?" he's grinning wildly at his own joke, waiting for Mattsun to react. When he doesn't he just takes another drag of his cigarette, smile never fading. "I thought it was funny.”

"It was a little funny." Mattsun relents, gesturing for the butt. It's passed with brushing fingers, knuckle against knuckle. It's been years since he's smoked- since third year of high school- but each pull still burns all the same. "How long?"

"Well, two months ago they told me I had years," he says, like it's nothing, "But the doc did a rescan and it's way worse than they thought.” He taps his temple, “Apparently, three lil fuckers in there."

"How long?" Mattsun can’t stop repeating himself.

"10 months." he wobbles his hand side to side, “Give or take.”

Mattsun takes another drag, harder this time. It’s unfair that he’s this upset about it, that this isn’t just another funeral to him.

“Whoa, don’t hog the whole thing!” Makki grabs for his cigarette, opening and closing his hand like a small child, “You’ll get cancer from these, you know? ”

Mattsun doesn’t laugh. He just watches the ember fall on to his slacks. They flare of a quick moment before dying, leaving little discolored burns in their wake.

“Both of us can’t get cancer- it’d be like wearing the same dress to a party. So embarrassing.” he finally just snatches it out of Mattsun’s hand, “So, are you going to help me?”

“H-help you.” he repeats back. Nothing that’s happening right now feels real.

“With my funeral. Duh.”

“You want me to plan your service?” Mattsun asks.

“Well, us. Not just you. Duh.”

Duh.

“Why?” Mattsun breaths and yet he feels like he’s suffocating, “Why me? After everything I did-”

“I don’t want my dad to worry about it.” Makki kisses his teeth and pulls himself into a ball, “He almost had a heart attack trying to figure out my mom’s and I …. I just don’t want him to worry.” Makki breathes out through his nose- it’s how he dispels negativity in his life, just like how he did in high school. “Besides, if I plan it, it doesn’t have to be some fucking boring ass pity party. We can make it fun. A fun-eral.”

These all just seem like words. There’s meaning behind them, sure, but they don’t seem to mean anything when they’re strung together like this. Mattsun wonders if this is shock, or some weird form of it. He’s seen it before, in the eyes of family’s blindly choosing and planning. He always thought they dumb, not knowing how to react, not knowing if they should be sad or angry or …. Something.

But he gets it now. The news doesn’t always sink in.

“I don’t know what to say,” he admits after a long moment, “I don’t… I don’t think I’m processing this.”

Makki pushes off of the curb and stands, brushing off dust from his pants. “I get it. It’s a lot to hear.” he flashes a peace sign over his shoulder as he starts down the alley, “Think about it and get back to me.” A thin puff of smoke curls into the air, “My number’s the same as it always was.”

Mattsun sits there, hidden between the dumpster and his work, and tries to process as he watches Makki walk out of his life once again.

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webtable · 2 years

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and 29 for amyleanne maybe

literally in love with them--was this even the right prompt?. sorry that this is late and also So short but i just. i <3 yeah. (i think the idea that the folgers + relatives were a predominantly eye-aligned family is very interesting and also wonder how that would effect leanne later on in her (strange) life)

Leanne does a silly little curtsy when Amy steps out into the backyard, taking in the sheer amount of space that’s there. “Welcome!”

She says this with an intoxicating smile on her face. Something that just can’t be falsely replicated unless you really try. Not that it would be difficult for Amy to find out if it was a lie, per se. Just that she appreciates the sincerity.

“I try to spend a lot of time out here when I can,” Leanne says now, a little more timidly. Amy can see why though, there’s a big old tree and some old patio furniture that would be hard to get anywhere nowadays. Handed-down antiques that have been well taken care of over the years. It’s… quaint. She decides that she likes it.

“I can see why.”

They’re just far enough away from the city that the amount of stars that shine on them is kind of… dazzling. Way better than she thought it ever would be. Amy can’t remember her last drive out of the city.

They sit next to each other on chairs that have been left out in the rain and sun so many times that they’ve been permanently bleached and damaged, creaking under weight. Everything about the sky right now feels perfect. Everything about Leanne and her backyard is just right. So right that Amy can’t even remember why she ever felt nervous in the first place.

“So,” Amy starts. This is the first time either of them have said a thing in what feels like ages, fingers fiddling with an old lighter. Green. “How’d you manage to afford this place?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Leanne’s face twists until it forms a sad little smile. “I… my grandpa left it for me. I lived with him most of my life, can’t imagine being anywhere else, really.”

Amy nods.

“Basically my surrogate father. And my cousin did a lot of caring for me too.”

“I’m, uh…”

“You don’t have to say it, it was a while back now,” her hair covers most of her face. She pulls it back behind her ear like she’s been programmed to do so. Amy can’t help but be fascinated by her profile.

She nods.

Leanne leans in close, so close Amy could count every single one of her eyelashes if she tried. If she could take the time. “Between you and me, I think it might be haunted.”

She can’t help but smile. “Yeah?”

“I mean, like–” Leanne pulls out a cigarette, lighting it while she figures out what to say. “--come on. You went in there, can’t you feel those eyes all over your back? It’s a family curse or something, happened in literally every family members’ place I’ve been in.”

She breathes in, shakier than before. Hair dropping back in front of her face.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I got upset.”

Amy can kind of feel the way that she’s leaned over the arm of her seat, and how her teeth have gritted in a way that can’t really be reversed easily unless she opens her mouth. “No, it’s fine.”

“I just… it was supposed to be silly.”

“It’s fine, honestly. I get it,” in the back of her mind, Amy remembers a very, very, similar time. “I have an air of extreme trustworthiness that makes people feel like they can be vulnerable with me at any given moment. It’s a blessing.”

Leanne cracks another smile.

They fall back into silence after that.

As it slowly gets colder, Leanne huddles into herself more, breath slowing down like she was made for this kind of weather. A dampy springtime that never seems to end. Amy can’t help but watch.

Every rise and fall of her chest, the way she holds her breath when smoking (like she absorbs more nicotine that way), how the veins in her hands rise against the cold. Her legs crossing and uncrossing. Shaking.

And it’s tough fucking luck that Amy likes her like this, because they’ll probably never be able to have a normal life.

Especially not if Leanne ever wants to leave her haunting behind.

#does this one seem repetitive? probably. sorry </3 i just. yeah.#partially based on a scenario that i half remember from two years ago where me and a friend were in my backyard and #we got into family ghosts #like as a topic #asked and answered #lover-ish #fic tag #leanne denikin #amy patel #tma

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sadachmesarthim · 3 years

Photo

towers for your honeycomb chap 2: more meany pants tony

part one

content: tony’s being a dick again, mention of Peter’s Family Problems, confined spaces, smoking, @carelessannie is a character and Has A Boyfriend That Is a Real Person I Know, tony calls peter a turtle, crying

word count: 1.5k // square filled: locked in a closet!

song for this chapter here -> that’s not a good excuse - eli.

It was late, it was cold... mid-December nights were usually slow, but not no-car-in-sight-for-hours slow. Peter didn't handle any of those well on their own, but all three?

Working with Tony the entire time didn't do much to help, either.

They'd clocked on together, they'd be clocking off together - it was his worst nightmare. There wasn't anything to do, either - they'd already finished half of the closing list and every single chore. Annie had FaceTimed her boyfriend after finishing her chem homework - hell - the girls'd made a snowman outside the front of the stand, for fuck's sake!

Time was barely crawling. It made Peter irritable - apparently, it made Tony irritable, too.

⁘|||⁘

Annie hung up her FaceTime call with Sebastian, excited at the prospect of food. She turned, ready to take orders from the three that were now in front of her. "Okay - Panda Express - what is he bringing us?"

Courtney piped up first. "I'll just do another of what you're doing, A." She went back to her phone, more interested in her boy of the week than the rest of the conversation.

Annie typed it into her texts, looking back toward the boys. "You two - what is he getting you?" Tony spoke next. "I'll do the same thing. I'm easy." Peter scoffed a bit at that, covering it poorly with a cough. Annie shot him a look. Don't start shit.

"Peter, anything?" She knew him too well to ask. "Nah babe, I'm gonna eat at home."

That suddenly got Tony's attention. "What, you're not eating? We still have two hours left, and you look like you're about to fall over." Perfect Parker timing, his stomach growled - audibly enough to justify Tony's comment.

Peter shoved past him, making his way toward the back. He didn't want to engage - he wanted to- to- to text Resa, pour himself into some chores, maybe dive into a snowdrift - literally anything but continue the conversation.

Tony on the other hand... he didn't know when to stop. "What's your deal, Parker? The man is bringing us food, on his own dime. You really gonna be rude enough to refuse?"

Peter closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. "It doesn't matter what my deal is, Tony - maybe I just don't like Panda. Maybe I don't want something that heavy on my stomach. Maybe my mom has food waiting for me at home. You don't know shit - so why don't you just leave it alone?" Mmm a bit harsh, Parker, take it down a notch.

Tony scoffed. "We both know you don’t have anything waiting for you, anywhere, Parker. Quit talkin' big and just accept the generosity."

Both Courtney and Annie gasped at that one. It was common knowledge around the stand that Peter's home life was off-limits. Hell, everyone's was - leave your shit at the door applied to everyone else's shit too. Apparently, Tony didn't get the memo.

"Okay, nope. I'm not listening to this conversation. Both of you, fridge!" Courtney - taller and stronger than both of them - grabbed the boys, practically tossing them into the walk-in. The door slammed behind them, something jamming it from the outside.

Her voice was muffled, but they both understood - they weren't getting out until they figured this out. They'd been fighting off and on for months, and it was causing serious issues in the stand. The girls were uncomfortable - sure, it was fine if they were separated during shifts, but that couldn't go on forever.

This just happened to be everyone’s final straw.

Peter pressed his forehead into the door, not wanting to face the other man. This wasn't exactly how he'd planned on spending his evening - and now that he found himself here, he was going to do everything he could to avoid avoid avoid any further confrontation.

His mouth hadn’t caught the memo.

“That’s two.” Shut the fuck up.

He couldn’t see them, but he could practically hear Tony’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Two what?” He was still seated, from what Peter could tell. At least he wasn’t about to get his ass beat.

“Two apologies you owe me. Me and the girls. For being rude, and talking shit in the stand.” God damn it Peter, shut your mouth!

Tony scoffed. “You’re still on about that? Come on, Parker, can’t you just let it go?”

He tried. Peter tried really, really hard to hold himself back, he did. But it just... it wasn’t like him, to take shit like this. To allow someone like- like- like Tony Stark to make his life a living hell. Mob connections be damned, he wasn’t going to take it anymore. It was exhausting, and Peter was tired of coming to work every day dreading his shift.

He got up, turning to face Tony. He might’ve been shorter than him normally, but with Tony sat on the foot-tall milk crate, there was quite a difference. It was childish, but it made him feel like he had the upper hand.

“You- you- you can’t keep pushing me around like this, Tony. You’ve been a dick to me for months, and I’m sick of it. All I wanted was one stupid, little apology, and you can’t even give me that!

“I left you alone! I tried to make our shifts together easy, I stayed out of your way! I begged Courtney to never schedule us or rotate us together. Do you know how difficult that is?? Especially in a stand this size, Tony, it’s nearly impossible.” He was near tears at this point, voice close to breaking.

“And then you have the audacity to come here, in my stand, and talk about my- my family - which was not fucking okay, by the way. It just- it’s so cruel, Tony! I’m done!

“I tried to be nice, I really did. But you make it so fucking difficult. So forgive me for not being able to just let it go.”

⁘|||⁘

Peter was always an ugly crier. Snotty, red eyes, uncontrollable shaking.

He was also an angry crier. The two tended not to mesh well.

It didn’t help that people tended to not take him seriously anyway. He was small, entirely not intimidating. Couldn’t hurt a fly. The second you get him even remotely upset, and he bursts into tears?

He wasn’t expecting sympathy from Tony.

⁘|||⁘

He was done sobbing by this point, but the damage was done.

He’d thoroughly embarassed himself in front of the man he’d just... just demanded so much from. It wasn’t his lowest moment, but it was close. Nice going, P.

Peter was convinced he couldn’t be locked in the fridge with anyone wor-

There was a hand on his shoulder.

His head shot up, grabbing Tony by the wrist. “Don’t touch me!” It came out louder than he’d intended, and the look of fear written on Tony’s face did make him feel a bit bad. Peter hadn’t let go. “Just- don’t- just ask first, fuck.”

He released his grip, turning to dig his head back into his arms. He’d tucked himself into the far corner, drawing his knees up around him so he could get as far from the door as possible. He wanted to sink himself straight into the floor, mesh with the concrete, never show his face at work again -

But there Tony was, looking down at him like he was a startled puppy.

He plopped himself down next to Peter, facing in toward the center of the fridge. He tilted his head, making contact with Peter’s left knee. “Would you look at me?” Gentle.

Peter sniffled, trying to clear his nose. He knew he wasn’t the most presentable right now - wet spots soaking both of his sleeves, nose probably bright & cherry-tinged. He shifted, just barely peeking past his forearms.

“There we go.” Peter sniffled again.

Tony looked like there was a war going on inside him. Peter’d never spent this long looking at him - certainly never this long at his eyes. There was so much to them, so much hurt and understanding he’d never seen before. So much he recognized.

Tony was drawing circles into his shin, now, steady movement bringing him back to the present. “Come on, little turtle, come outta that shell for me.”

Peter’s eyebrows drew together. “’m not a turtle.”

Tony laughed. “What, then? Hermit crab? Clownfish? What else hides when it’s upset?” It was a sad attempt at breaking the tension, and he knew it.

Peter wasn’t phased by it, either. His glare stuck.

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry. No animal nicknames. I got it.” He smiled as his hands came away from Peter’s body, pulling up in a defensive position. “Plain ‘ole human insults, then, promise.”

Peter let out a huff. “How hard was that?”

“Was what?”

“You said sorry.” Oh.

“I... I guess I did.” Tony’s hands came down. He pushed himself to his feet, crossing toward the door. “Consider it an accident.” His entire demeanor had shifted - he was back to his normal, standoff-ish self.

Whoever Peter’d spent the last couple of minutes with was gone.

“N- Tony I-”

“Forget it, Peter. Seriously.” He pushed at the handle of the fridge door, thankful it was free to open. He bypassed the girls, grabbing the rest of his shit and tearing out the door. The cigarette barely lit with how fast he made the trek to his truck, lighter burning the side of his thumb.

When did he get so soft?

Fuck.

tag list: @longlivestarker @bluestarker xoxo

#sfsummerbingo21 #starkerfestivalsevents #starker #peter parker/tony stark #peter parker x tony stark #.mine #.fic #i wrote all of this save the last bit of dialogue a week ago #i just couldn't find a place to end it #i found a place apparently #coffee shop au #more enemies babey

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0gasstationcoffee · 2 years

Text

LWA rewatch episode 23

· Oh lordy the last three episodes LEGGO

· This is the one with Chariot backstory

· Also like how the episode before is called “Things we said today” and this one is “yesterday” showing how we’re going back in time

· Starts off with Lotte and Sucy going to Diana cuz Akko is missing

· Lotte is so concerned oh baby girl

· Diana comforting her with a kind smile on her face, how sweet

· “I think it would be best if we first inform Professor Ursula.” SHE WOULD BE THE FIRST PERSON TO INFORM IF HER DAUGHTER WAS MISSING YES BUT TODAY IS DIFFERENT

· Diana volunteering to go to Ursula cuz she knows the truth

· Lotte sees that it’s snowing and gets more worried PROTECT LOTTE AT ALL COSTS PLEASE WORLD

· CHARIOT BACKSTORY CHARIOT BACKSTORY

· WITH BABY ARCAS OMG THAT IS SO CUTE

· “Since I was a child, I had a dream. To become a witch that would make everyone smile.”

· Don’t even get me started at how adorable baby Chariot is. Baby Arcas too

· ALSO WHY IS SHE SO LITTLE AND AT LUNA NOVA WHY

· IS THIS WHERE THE THEORIES THAT CHARIOT WAS AN ORPHAN AND RAISED AT LUNA NOVA COME FROM???

· So she always had a talent for illusion magic

· “I wanted it more than anything. Even so, my abilities were less than stellar.

· Young Croix: Believing in yourself is your magic. GODDAMMIT CROIX

· “No matter how many times I failed, my dream to fill people’s hearts with excitement and joy kept me going. Eventually, a Rod with seven stars appeared before me. I was told that once the seven words were revived, one would have access to the powerful world altering magic. Surely, magic like that could make everyone happy. With guidance from Professor Woodward, I began my search for the seven words.”

· Oh man and young Croix just looking on in envy

· “I was able to find and revive six of the seven words. However the last word eluded my grasp. I thought, if I hoped with all of my heart to make everyone smile, perhaps that would be enough to revive the seventh word. Believing in yourself is your magic.”

· SHE JUST WANTED TO MAKE PEOPLE HAPPY THAT WAS ALL

· SHE JUST WANTED PEOPLE TO SMILE

· I REMEMBER SORT OF WHAT THE SEVENTH WORD IS AND I THINK IT’S VERY IMPORTANT AND SYMBOLIC ON WHY CHARIOT COULDN’T GRASP IT BUT AKKO COULD WITH CHARIOT.

· Older, kind of sleazy looking dude approaching a teenage girl to make her a star I AM DISCOMFORT

· Also Croix fucking wearing a red cape as a teacher, goddammit

· “I wanted to make more and more people happy. I toured all over the world. Eventually, negative comments began to emerge.”

· Negativity on social media is such a big part of this show, it’s hella interesting. The traditional witches at Luna Nova can deny it all they want but technology and social media have become a part of their lives and with it, the toxicity of the internet

· Chariot getting upset looking at the comments DON’T HURT HER

· “You gotta make your magic acts more entertaining.” HUSH MR MANAGER

· So this is literally while she’s still at Luna Nova?????? Holy shit

· Also speaking of how young Chariot still is while she’s performing (she’s still in school!) it makes her manager extra sleazy given how revealing Shiny Chariot’s outfit is. Granted it’s an awesome fucking outfit but I dislike very much this older dude managing a teenage girl and having her outfit being almost corset like while revealing a lot of cleavage and having a very short skirt

· Is this why we see Ursula in a lot of track suits later on? Is she not only trying to blend in better but she doesn’t want to feel that exposed anymore?

· In lighter news, Akko absolute wears her skirt so short because Shiny Chariot did as well

· “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” “Croix!” Ah okay so this is Chariot’s senior year then if she hasn’t seen Croix in a minute. Croix must have graduated

· Also sad how they were so close, so so close and drifted apart because of the Shiny Rod

· “I’m trying to find a new type of magic, something nobody’s seen before.” Oh baby girl

· Croix: Well there’s something I’ve been researching that you might find useful. But it’s still in the early stages of development. It’s called Dream Fuel Spirit. It converts the energy of dreams into magical power. By using it, you could boost your magic power and put on more extravagant shows.

· No mention of what it would do to the audience huh Croix

· Of course Chariot would agree, this is her Croix. And it’ll help her fulfil her dream of making people happy, which is what she thinks will help her get the seventh word? Of course she’d do it

· “And so, my act reached new heights.” God her shows were so fucking cool

· Oh no they’re in the dressing room, is it heartbreaking reveal #2 time?

· Chariot is so happy my poor baby has no idea what’s coming

· “Did you see all the smiles on those faces out there?!” She just…she’s so pure

· Also there has to be such a deep inner sadness in her that all she wants to do is make people laugh.

· “That was amazing! So much unbridled power. There’s no doubt in my mind this will help put the magic world back on top where it belongs.”

· Oh Shiny Chariot also wears a choker necklace like Ursula

· “When you compare it to everything people stand to gain from this, the sacrifices are worth it.” BUT CROIX YOU MADE CHARIOT AN UNKNOWING TOOL IN THIS AND THERE WAS DEFINITELY ANOTHER WAY

· “Sacrifices?” Chariot baby

· “Dream Fuel Spirit operates by stealing the energy of dreams and converting it to magic power.” “Wait a minute, you never told me it stole them!”

· “Didn’t I?” CROIX YOU ASSHOLE “Well, it’s of little consequence.” NO IT AINT

· “But if that’s true, what happens to all of those people?” Oh god Chariot’s heart is breaking and you don’t know if it’s because Croix tricked her or because of what she unwittingly did

· “They simply lose a fraction of their magic talent, that’s all. Ordinary people have no use for that talent to begin with. So they won’t miss it. Now I will say, if someone from a witch’s family were there, then it might be a problem. Though I sincerely doubt anyone like that would be attending a performance of this nature.” Croix just likes to launch as many heartbreaks as she can at Chariot

· “You lied to me Croix. Tell me, why on Earth would you do this? If that’s the price to pay, then I don’t want it.” “Even if it grants you power? You naïve little girl! It’s because of that idealistic attitude that you can’t find the last word! You have a sacred duty to uphold and that’s to obtain the world altering magic yet here you are, wasting all your time on this stupid show! Just what are you thinking?” “You’re scaring me.”

· Nevermind NOW she’s lobbing as many heartbreaks as she can at Chariot good grief

· Chariot saying she doesn’t want to use that magic even if it helps her achieve her dreams is exactly like Akko saying at the beginning of the show that she doesn’t want to burden others while she tries to reach her goal of being like Chariot

· Sorry just had to get that out there before diving in

· Croix you are also so fucking wrong

· Akko was able to unlock so many words in a few months time BECAUSE she had Chariot guiding her, even if she didn’t know it. Chariot did not have the benefit of having the Rod’s previous owner helping her. She still managed to find 6 of the words and thought she could unlock the seventh word by making people happy!!!

· It’s Chariot and Akko’s believing hearts that let them fully breathe life into the words

· Also what hurts the worst is Croix saying all of these things and backing Chariot into a corner and all Chariot can say it “You’re scaring me.”

· Also is this confirming that the Dream Fuel Spirit was only used once? That is absolutely Akko’s luck

· “Why’d you call it the Shiny Rod? How idiotically childish. Do you really think the [proper Shiny Rod name] chose you so it could be used for such a juvenile display? Why? Why did it choose you and not me?”

· I know this is entirely beside the point but it really does look like Chariot is standing there in lingerie in front of Croix and I managed to pause it on the funniest screencap of Chariot in her revealing clothes and Croix just staring down directly at her boobs

· “I don’t know the answer to that. I just know that I want to use magic to make everyone happy. That’s all I know how to do.” Shoot me in the foot it would hurt less

· “You really don’t get it. A show like this will fade away and be forgotten. Just like the fate of magic in this world.” It won’t be forgotten by those who genuinely love magic, like Akko and Diana

· “I can’t help you any longer, I need to follow my own path. Goodbye.”

· So that was their last meeting huh. Ouch

· “After that, I refused to use the Dream Fuel Spirit ever again.” She’s so good

· It breaks my heart watching her look at people not paying attention during her show

· “Is it true, will magic be forgotten?” CHARIOT’S NOT EVEN WORRIED ABOUT HERSELF, SHE’S WORRIED ABOUT MAGIC

· Oh there’s Croix attending one of the shows, I wonder if Chariot knows?

· Oh man the people in the audience being so ungrateful, of course she’s gonna snap

· Chariot casting the spell and Croix saying “That’s amazing!” Had she not seen that spell before?

· OH HERE WE GO SHE’S GONNA SHOOT THE MOON

· Not gonna lie I do think that’s fucking hilarious

· Good lord how STRONG must that spell have been for her to blast a hole in the moon

· I mean we know Chariot is strong from everything we’ve seen but GDAMN

· Well at least Croix is doing something good “I have to erase their memories!” As much as she tries to convince herself she doesn’t care about Chariot, she still helps her not get into trouble and goes chasing after her when Chariot falls at Wagandea

· It’s just…buried underneath a lot of bad actions too

· And the Rod just withers away as Chariot looks at the moon in horror

· Speaking of, it’s interesting that Croix was never able to touch the Rod but even after Chariot uses it to blow a hole in the moon and loses it, she can still hold it in the future

· And here we are, back in the present with Chariot of course staring at the moon

· Diana going to Ursula’s to tell her Akko is missing

· Diana: no one has seen Akko since she went into town. Chariot: pikachu gasp

· “Do you know anything?” Oh lord Diana get ready for storytime

· Chariot saying “I’m so sorry” and Diana not knowing she’s apologizing because of Akko

· Gosh she’s so sad here

· Diana wants to finish their talk from earlier and Chariot’s like “Sorry I’m busy” Yeah too busy drowning in self hatred and guilt

· “I know there’s no record of a student here names Ursula Callistis.” Diana just cutting through the BS and getting to the point, love that

· “Your real name is Chariot Du Nord.” I do wonder how Diana figured that out. Realizing there is no Ursula is one thing but putting together who she actually is, I wanna know how she researched that

· “You’re Shiny Chariot.” “I am.”

· “And you were with her earlier? Please tell me what happened!” I’m glad it was Diana who went to visit her because it’s a big deal for her too to meet Shiny Chariot

· Oh so she tells Diana the whole story???

· “It really upset Akko when I told her everything.” I hope she at least told Diana she didn’t know what the Dream Fuel Spirit would do

· Diana’s upset because Chariot didn’t go chase after Akko

· I totally get it and I’d be upset if I were Diana too but it also wasn’t a conversation between Chariot and Akko that Akko ran out on, it was a big fucking confrontation that was probably traumatic for both Akko and Chariot

· “I’m sorry, I can’t be of any help to her now.” She’s just given up hasn’t she? She thinks Akko is better off without her

· Of course Diana’s pissed

· “I’m sure that she needs you now more than ever!” Listen to her Chariot SHE’S RIGHT

· “I can’t, I have to take care of other matters right now.” “ You want me to believe that something could possibly be more important than Akko right now?” You go Diana!

· It’s so sad because Akko is so important to Chariot and Chariot thinks the best thing she can do for Akko is to stay away from her. But Diana knows the truth is the exact opposite and can’t believe Chariot can’t see that

· I’m also guessing the other matters Chariot has to take care of is stopping Croix or die trying

· “I’m disappointed in you. Not about who you were then but who you are now.” OUCH DIANA I mean I understand BUT YOU ALSO DON’T KNOW HOW TRAUMATIC THAT ROOF SCENE WAS

· But true Chariot you gotta go find your kid

· Chariot takes off her glasses

· “Please, take care of her for me.”

· YALL THAT WAS THE SADDEST THING I EVER HEARD

· IS CHARIOT ACTUALLY GONNA DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO STOP CROIX, INCLUDING DIE, CUZ I WAS KIDDING BEFORE CHARIOT BABY DON’T DO IT

· Akko and Chariot are having real shit nights I gotta say

· Green team showing up for their friend!!!

· Jasminka not eating that’s how you know it’s serious

· Lotte: Did you find anything out? Diana: Storytime part 2

· Amanda: The reason Akko can’t fly is Chariot’s fault? THAT’S NOT ENTIRELY TRUE THOOOO

· Sucy: The way Akko loves Chariot she must have taken that really hard. SUCY

· Amanda: you gotta wonder if she’s even gonna come back. I MEAN SHE IS JUST OUT THERE GETTING FROSTBITE SO

· POOR LOTTE BABY she cares about Akko SO MUCH

· Sucy: There’s something I don’t get, how does Ursula know about all this? Of the red team, Sucy was always the one asking how Ursula got all this information about Chariot

· Oh so Diana doesn’t tell them??? She at least knows this is a huge secret for Chariot

· Everyone making their plans to find Akko, she has good friends

· SUCY GRABS THE SHINT ROD

· DIANA GRABS HER CHARIOT CARD, KNOWING WHAT IT WOULD MEAN TO AKKO

· The green team all searching in the snowy town and Amanda just missing her Chaos Friend “Come on Akko. If you don’t come back I swear I’ll never forgive you.”

· More Akko and Amanda stories please

· SUCY GOING BACK TO THE BRIDGE WHERE SHE FIRST MET AKKO BECAUSE WE KNOW IT’S ONE OF HER FAVORITE MEMORIES

· “It figures, Akko always did have a way of getting us to follow her.”

· LOTTE THIS POOR PRECIOUS BEAN

· “It’s too much, thinking that she might be gone. I can’t! Til’ now, I didn’t even think about the possibility that one day she might be gone. What do I do? What do I do if Akko doesn’t come back?”

· TW: SUICIDE

· Okay I have to point this out and it’s a little dark but Lotte’s dialogue and the way she says it makes it seem like Akko might be dead, as if she thinks Akko learning the truth about “Chariot” taking away her magic would be enough to make Akko want to kill herself. The red team is around Akko the most and they would know firsthand the extent to which Akko loves Chariot and why the truth would be devastating to the point of Akko trying to commit suicide. I know they try to bring it back to Akko being gone as in leaving Luna Nova but that’s not the tone of that scene/Lotte at all

· It also reminds me of the earlier scene where Chariot takes of her glasses and says “Please take care of [Akko] for me” in such a lifeless voice, as if she’s not expecting to come back from her fight with Croix.

· It’s sad and heartbreaking and it’s so fucking interesting

· And here’s Diana looking for Akko

· Goodness Akko ran so fucking far in the snow, I wonder if she even realized it or was just so numb and sad

· Oh yeah Akko on the bench, she’s numb. Her eyes are dead, she’s not looking at anything, it’s freezing out and snow is collecting on her and she’s not even moving

· Good lord this is the exact opposite of the Akko we know. She is destroyed

· “It’s freezing out. I can’t believe you were actually sitting out there this entire time.” Akko truly did not care, she was too hurt

· Diana telling Akko she knows the truth

· Omg the way Akko just looks at Diana’s card and says “A premium Chariot card?” with none of the excitement she would have normally had, oh god

· Oh good, at least Akko is talking to Diana about Shiny Chariot. But there’s none of the happiness in her voice like there usually is

· I have to say, I want these fucking Chariot cards they look cool as fuck

· And considering how much merchandise she has, there had to be a long length of time where Shiny Chariot was super popular

· Diana’s mom sending Diana to Japan so she could see Shiny Chariot :’)

· I do love that they saw the same show, even with what happened

· Ah Akko remembered Andrew talking about how Diana couldn’t use magic

· At least Akko knows that there is hope for her, if Diana was able to become the witch that she is

· But I also need to know, can anyone decide to be a witch????? How does that work. Akko was clearly not from a witch family but she still is one. I’ve asked this in a previous post and I’m still so confused

· Akko has a lot of self doubt and it’s only natural but it still hurts

· Aww showing the Chariot show from Diana’s POV

· This was all Chariot wanted, she made these two amazing witches smile and LOVE magic and it all got twisted

· “That amazing feeling she left me with gave me the strength to keep going.” It was Diana’s love of Chariot that helped her keep trying MY GOD

· Oh man when she talks about how she had to distance herself from Chariot because of the expectations on her, ouch

· DIANA DID GO TO LUNA NOVA BECAUSE THAT’S WHERE CHARIOT WENT

· Lmfao Diana: to be honest I didn’t much care for you when we first met. Yeah dear we know

· “Your magic had a strange charm to it” That’s cute

· Lmao Diana wanted to leave Luna Nova to get away from Akko??? Gay thoughts too strong

· “Because I knew you were closer to Chariot than I would ever be.” Oof that hurts. And is also so true in more ways than one

· SHE GAVE AKKO THE PREMIUM CARD GOOD LORD

· LOTTE RUNNING IN AND TACKLING AKKO

· She was so worried about losing Akko, they are so sweet

· Akko’s back!!!!!!!

· Lmao Sucy just shoves the Rod into Akko’s back. So Sucy

· The green team is here! Can we get a group hug?

· Aww the magic shopkeeper guy giving them drinks on the house

· Lmao Amanda teasing Akko about crying

· OMG Sucy and Diana joining in

· OHHHHH SHIT

· OH SHIT

· CHARIOT JUST WALKING UP THE NEW MOON TOWER

· NO DEFENSES, NO NOTHING SHE’S JUST WALKING UP AND GOING INTO THE LAB

· That Noir Rod is huge.

· Croix: I have you to thank. I was able to perfect it with the data collected from the dream fuel spirit. CROIX STOP RUBBING IT IN

· Chariot is just not in the fucking mood

· She doesn’t even have her glasses, just the blue hair

· HER HAIR IT’S BACK TO RED

· THAT WAS SO BADASS

· “I’ll stop you here and now.” WITH HER GLOWING RED HAIR THAT MATCHES THE COLOR OF THE NOIR ROD GOD SHE’S SO SEXY

· Also yep she’s gonna do whatever it takes to stop Croix right now

· Oof gosh that was a tough episode and there’s only 2 more left

#lwa #lwa rewatch #little witch academia

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yslkook · 3 years

Text

#by the books (5)

#corporate masterlist

summary: seokjin helps you come to several epiphanies. you wrestle with your growing fondness with jungkook, while determining how to talk to him. word count: 5570 warnings: cursing, parental death, discussion of mental health, some alc a/n: this is part 2/3 of being in tokyo!

SUNDAY

Seokjin knows something is wrong when you don’t respond to his texts for over fourteen hours. It’s well into Sunday morning, closer to the afternoon, when he makes the executive decision to camp out outside your hotel room until you let him in. He knows you’ve been on your phone- you’ve been on Instagram. You’re just avoiding him, and probably the rest of the world. As you usually tend to do, when you’re upset.

You don’t know what to do. You’ve never yelled at someone the way you yelled at Jungkook last night, much less literally ran away from someone like that. Embarrassment colors your memories, internally cringing when you replay the night’s events in your mind. It plays like a movie, the same moment mocking you incessantly. Jungkook’s heartbroken, doe eyes haunt you- you’ve barely been able to sleep because you’ve struggled coming to terms with the fact that you put that look on his face.

The reflection in your mirror disgusts you. And yet, you still do nothing about it, burying yourself under the duvet and ignoring anything that wasn’t sleep. It’s easier that way.

Your phone rings again- it’s Jin. You ignore his call. That’s your first mistake. He nearly screeches your name outside the door to your hotel room, menacingly knocking on your door. He’s clearly on a mission to piss off everyone who had the bad luck to be staying in the hotel rooms adjacent to you.

“I’m sleeping,” You shout easily, your voice muffled from the comforter.

“Open the damn door,” Jin demands and you groan. He won’t stop until you let him in, much to your chagrin. You just want to wallow in your self-pity for a bit, is that too much to ask for?

So you finally force yourself out of the bed and drag your feet to the door. “You look like fuckin’ shit,” Jin remarks, taking in your bleary eyes and the permanent frown on your face.

“Thanks, Seokjin. Just what every girl wants to hear,” You mutter and burrow yourself in bed once more. Without a moment’s hesitation, he gets under the covers next to you, curling into your side. Like he’s done a million times before.

“Leave me alone, Jin,” You mumble, without any real heat in your voice, “Yuna wouldn’t like this. Your girlfriend wouldn’t like you to be in bed with another girl-”

“Shut up, stupid. You’re not just another girl,” Jin dismisses you, only tightening his hold around your waist.

“Go away,” You try again, rather weakly. Instead, you let your hand sit on top of his. You both lay together in silence like that for a while. His presence always calms you down, brings you back up a few notches.

“I did something awful last night,” You finally say, voice hoarse from disuse.

“What did you do?”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I yelled at Jungkook in front of my favorite ice cream shop… and then ran away from him.”

“What did you yell at him for?”

You tell him- you tell him how he told you he couldn’t keep up with you, how he called you his dream girl, how you screamed at him that your dad died and that you dropped out of school because you couldn’t handle it, how just seeing Jungkook reminded you of when you were happier.

“I’m such a fuckin’ idiot, Jin,” You mutter, pressing your face further into your pillow, “A-and how can he say I was his dream girl, I’m just such an-”

“Shh,” Jin says, muffling your mouth with his hand. Once you stop your self-deprecating train of thought, he pulls his hand away. Jin lays with you in silence once more, only running a hand over your upper arm to soothe you.

“Let’s go get lunch,” Jin suggests and he already hears the protest about to erupt from your lips, “You look like shit and I know you haven’t eaten. Go shower and wear something new. I’ll wait.”

You groan before forcing yourself out of the bed and dragging your feet into the bathroom. Jin rolls his eyes when you shoot a death glare in his direction. Jin was right- the hot water against your skin was soothing. You welcomed the stinging of the water as it pelted your skin with open arms. Feeling a little better coming out of the shower than you did going into the shower, you change into day clothes.

“Lookin’ better already,” Jin says, pulling you into a side hug.

Why is Jin friends with you, when you can’t stand yourself some days? You don’t know what he sees in you. Not when you seem to hurt everyone around you, so selfishly, as if it’s second nature.

But he keeps you close to him, his arm tight around your shoulder and those thoughts don’t throb in your mind as much as they usually do.

Jin sits across from you in a small, quiet ramen shop. You’re in a corner, away from most of the other patrons. There’s only four other people here, including the waitress. Jin says nothing about your outburst at Jungkook from the night before, only noisily slurping his ramen and then screeching with he bites his lip accidentally.

“You eat too fast,” You admonish, shaking your head when he rubs his bottom lip gingerly. Jin immediately takes his phone out to take a selfie and sends it to Yuna, claiming that he needs a kiss to make it better. You roll your eyes fondly and smile at him.

Puppy love is cute on him.

“So,” Jin finally says and your heart races. His tone has instantly shifted to a little more quiet, a little more serious.

“What do I do, Jin?” You whisper, shoulders slumping and avoiding his eyes, “He didn’t know. The kid didn’t know why I left, that Appa died- a-and I don’t know why he’s so hung up over it either. ‘Snot like we were friends like that back then anyway… God, Jin, you should’ve seen the look on his face before I ran away, like a fuckin’ coward.”

You hold your head in your hands above your half finished bowl of ramen and groan. “What a mess. I’m a fuckin’ mess.”

“Jungkook considered you friends back then,” Jin says slowly, “As far as I know, at least. I mean, I remember him being excited to see you every week for those mentor mentee sessions. And how grateful he was when you pulled him away from mean girls. He’s sensitive, you remember at least that much, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” You laugh despite your misery, “Used to call him Bambi back in the day. He’d get so flustered. But… I just- like, I told him it hurt too much to even look at him. Because he reminded me of when I was happy. Who fuckin’ does that?”

“But are you happy now?” Jin asks bluntly, slurping another mouthful of noodles.

“I don’t… know,” You murmur, “I think I can be.”

“Happy isn’t a constant thing. You won’t be happy all the time, the same way you won’t be sad all the time. But the last few years have been so hard. Let yourself be happy, sweetheart,” Jin says, reaching over to squeeze your hand, “Happy back then doesn’t have to be the same as happy now.”

“How do I just be happy?” You wonder out loud, making a mental note to talk to your therapist about this.

“I don’t know, but for starters, talk to Jungkook. He considered you both friends. You hurt his feelings when you left without a word. And he’s hurt now. And… I know you spent a long time blocking out the last few years, blocking out all of the bad. But there was some good, too.”

“Can’t believe he called me his dream girl. What does he know?” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest but you feel a little lighter.

“You gonna tell me you didn’t like that?” Jin asks smugly.

“I didn’t!” You protest unconvincingly. Jin says nothing, only eyeing you with a knowing smile.

“You’re fooling no one. Eat your ramen, stupid.”

And so you do, the spicy broth curling in your belly as if it’s your home.

It feels like it’s been too long since you had spoken to Grandma, so you call her the minute you and Jin part ways. You tell her about the events of the past few days- how you had met up with friends you hadn’t seen in years. And how you had screamed at Jungkook undeservedly-

“I miss Appa,” You mumble, eyes watering, “He would be so upset with me. For the way I’ve been acting. Like he never existed, never talking about him…”

“He’d just want you to be happy, honey,” Grandma says kindly, “And to forgive yourself. To allow yourself to love and be loved.”

And then you cry some more. Grandma does, too.

Later, when you drive Jin, Jimin and Hoseok to the airport, all three of them wrap you up in tight hugs. As if you wouldn’t be in the same city as them in less than 48 hours. You promise to keep in touch with Jimin and Hoseok. Maybe they believe you, because they both hug you again with bright smiles.

MONDAY

Today’s the day. It’s the day that the Seoul team meets the Tokyo team face to face for the first time. Excitement brims in your blood- you’re certain that you have a lot to learn from this team. They’ve been a part of more submissions than your smaller team had been, and it had been a big surprise that Namjoon was named as the main lead of the project. But he was more than capable, as he had shown in the last few months.

The Tokyo team consists of Lisa, Irene, Minhyuk and they’re led by Mark. Mark, who you’ve known for about as long as you’ve been with the company. He had started with you in Seoul, in the same position and had quickly moved up in the ladder. Which seems to be the case for a lot of people, namely men, around you. He had actually beat you out for the job that he currently had. It had left a sour taste in your mouth for a long time- what did he have that you didn’t? But slowly, with time, you had gotten over it. After all, the job was in Tokyo, and you don’t think you were ready for that kind of move at the time. Everything happens for a reason, or so they say.

The company office in Tokyo is a little older than the one in Seoul- after all, the Seoul office had been recently renovated. If there was a word to describe the Seoul office, it was sleek and modern. You quite liked it.

Minhyuk had picked you, Jungkook, Sana and Namjoon up in the lobby to take you to the conference room that you would be working in. He’s a chatterbox, telling you about the history of the building, how long he’s been with the company and how grateful he is to be part of this team.

Jungkook tunes him out, nodding when needed and asking questions when appropriate. He casts his eyes over to you despite himself. You had put on a little more makeup today than usual, trying to conceal the puffiness of your eyes. Not that Jungkook could tell. He thinks you’re pretty. And the way you chew on your glossy bottom lip as you listen to Minhyuk- he thinks you’re cute, too.

You’re hyper aware of Jungkook’s presence next to you as you walk through the hallways and finally reach the conference room. He sits across from you, and for the first time since Saturday night, you allow yourself the luxury of looking at him. Despite a room full of new faces, the only person you want to look at is him. His dark hair is softly tousled over his forehead, barely there dimples dotted in his cheeks when he smiles at his new team members.

His gaze is transfixed on Mark and Namjoon, as they introduce themselves formally to each other and the rest of the team respectively. Mark’s eyes brighten when he sees you, but he keeps it professional, only shaking your hand with a smile that borders on a smirk.

Irene and Lisa eye you almost warily, until you introduce yourself to them with a warm handshake and a warm smile. You’ve been told you have an intimidating persona when people first meet you- in fact, your boss is the one who always tells you to smile more. What a jerk.

Mark and Namjoon both present on the mission and the objectives of the submission, and then what each individual team will be responsible for. You take a sip of your coffee, and cast your eyes around the room. Irene, Lisa, Sana and Minhyuk are intently listening to Mark and Namjoon and taking notes. While you’re staring at Jungkook.

And he’s staring back at you.

You pull your eyes away first, heart doing almost painful somersaults in your chest. You don’t mind being caught at staring at him, but you just feel like there is so much you need to say to him.

Like apologize. You need to apologize for unloading and dumping on him when he didn’t ask for it. But then, his smile fades and his doe eyes are sad. Because of you. It’s all because of you.

You and Namjoon present your slides for your team’s plan going forward, with details on the timelines and deliverables. Jungkook and Sana will be working on the logistics piece to organize another face-to-face workshop, and for the next one, the Tokyo team will come to Seoul.

Despite the heat of Jungkook’s gaze on you, you speak clearly and confidently. Jungkook loves the sound of your voice, the way it floats out into the room and wraps itself around him comfortingly.

Even when you had yelled at him outside of the ice cream shop, about how your Appa had died, about dropping out of school, and about how seeing him reminded you of when you were happy… Even then, he could never wince at the sound of your voice.

Jungkook was pissed that nobody had told him- that he had gone this long thinking so selfishly about you. He could have never have fathomed the gravity of your circumstance. He had yelled at Jimin the next day, but Jimin had only yelled back at him-

“She dropped off the face of the earth! She wanted nothing to do with us and it was her thing to tell!”

“So she was all alone that whole time? Because you all thought it was her thing to tell?”

“Don’t act like you’re better than all of us just because you didn’t know! You and I didn’t reconnect until recently, how was I supposed to tell you? And we tried to reach out to her. She shut us out, literally. What could we do if she ignored us for five fuckin’ years?”

You were alone. With your Grandma and with Seokjin. But still, alone, and possibly thinking that nobody was checking on you. Even if there is truth to Jimin’s words, Jungkook can’t help but feel like he’s too late. If he had known…. Well, what would he have done?

This crush of his feels more and more childish as days go by. And yet, when you look at him, the way you’re looking at him now. With softness lined in your irises, he can’t help it.

He can’t help but look back at you. Maybe you can see his apology in his face.

“Hi,” A voice comes from your left side. You’re at the coffee bar, refilling your second cup of coffee before noon. His voice is reserved, almost shy. Your heart seizes up immediately at the sound of it.

“Morning, Jungkook,” You say breathlessly, grateful for the coffee cup in your hand for something to hold on to. To channel your nervous energy into.

“Morning,” Jungkook says softly, “Can I talk to you later? Maybe after the happy hour?” He asks, hope shining in his voice and sparkling in his eyes.

No- it was supposed to be you who would reach out to apologize. After all, you were the one who had screamed in his face and ran away. He’s probably only reaching out out of pity, you think cynically. Nevertheless, it throws you off.

And apparently, since you’re the keeper of bad decisions, your response to him is predictable. Despite every synapse in your heart screaming at you to say something else.

“Uh. I don’t think I’m going to the happy hour. I’m not really feeling great,” The lie blooms from your painted lips easily. His face falls and you pretend like your heart doesn’t ache over his doe eyes.

“Oh, okay. Feel better,” Jungkook says and you give him a barely there smile, passing him to head back in the conference room.

A headache is beginning to brew in the back of your head. It’s the last thing you need.

Why does it bother you that Jungkook had been the one to reach out to you first, rather than the other way around? After all, you were the one who caused a scene. What reason does he have to want to talk to you? If anything, you’re the one who needs to apologize, right?

You stare at the shifting trees in front of you, hoping that if you stare hard enough, the leaves will whisper an answer to you.

Maybe you’re just overthinking it. Maybe he just is that good, to want to speak to you just because.

You’ve been sitting here, at Appa’s park, for the better part of an hour. You’re hoping for an epiphany, or some type of sign. It feels strange that Jungkook is weighing so heavily on your mind. You’re not used to this feeling.

A whistle of wind rustles through the collar of your thin jacket, curling around you in comfort. With a loud exhale, you stand up from your bench.

“Oh, fine. I’ll go to the stupid happy hour,” You scoff into the sky. As if the sky can hear your complaining. And so you turn on your heel and leave the park, begrudgingly making your way to the happy hour venue.

Usually, showing up to work events like this alone was a breeze. It was easy for you to think about these things as just being something to check off in your list of things to do for the day. You stayed to say your hellos and made some small talk before leaving, all within an hour.

But today feels different. Your carefully put together nerves are beginning to fray at the seams. You take a deep breath before swinging the door open to enter the bar. Namjoon and Mark had rented out a corner of the bar for your teams to have your own space. High tables of appetizers and drinks surrounded the bustling voices of your teammates.

Your hands are inadvertently balled into tense fists. This place is littered with people and still, you feel so alone. You wish Jin was here. You wish Jin was here.

Jungkook sees the crown of your head the minute you walk into the bar, even with the dimmed lighting. He had been sulking before, barely interested in the conversation that he had forced himself into under the pretense of ‘networking’. Not that anyone would be able to tell- Jungkook has mastered the art of making it seem like he was present. He would never jeopardize an invaluable opportunity like this, and he’s never been one to allow others to surpass him in settings like this. He knows what the stakes are. But he’s become adept in the art of multitasking.

Your lips are pursed, eyes darting across each side of the room. It feels overwhelming, like too much. Maybe you shouldn’t have come…

You cross your arms and dig your nails into your cloth covered bicep nervously. Before you can calm the thudding of your heart in your ears, you turn your head and see Jungkook walking towards you with a smile.

You can’t help but smile back.

“Jungkook,” You exhale, “Hi.”

“You came,” Jungkook says, eyes crinkling at the sight of you. Has he always had those deep laugh lines around his eyes when he smiled? For a second, you’re breathless but you break his gaze, not wanting to let your eyes linger over the rest of him for too long. At the risk that you’ll be sucked into his warm, brown whirlpools.

“Yeah,” You say faintly. Jungkook can sense your nervousness- you can’t help your eyes darting around you at the number of people surrounding you.

“Wanna get a drink with me?” Jungkook asks, gesturing towards the bar with a flick of his fingers.

“Really? You wanna get a drink with me?” You ask incredulously, with a raise of your eyebrow. How could he possibly want to spend time with you, when you had treated him the way you had?

“It’s on Namjoon and Mark’s company card,” Jungkook shrugs and you laugh. He leads you towards the bar. There are a few people seated at the navy blue leather bar stools surrounding the bar, a few of them eyeing Jungkook curiously. It doesn’t surprise you- he looks good in a form fitting black turtleneck and black slacks. Rings adorn his fingers and small hoops sit in his earlobes, a soft smile peeling across his face when he looks at you.

Yeah. You’d stare at him, too. If you didn’t have the fortune to know him.

“What can I get you?” Jungkook asks, relaxing with his elbow on the bar top.

“You mean what can Namjoon and Mark get us?” You say, pulling a laugh from him. Your heart sings at the sweet sound. “Hmm… I’ll have wine, I guess.”

“Red or white?”

“White?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Jungkook teases and your cheeks heat up.

“Telling you! I’ll have a… chardonnay,” You reply, turning your head towards the bar so he can’t see how flustered you are. But he does, and he pockets the information for later.

Once Jungkook orders two glasses of chardonnay for both of you and you’re both holding the wine glasses in your hands, you gently clink your glass with him. It makes you a little nervous, how easily you find yourself talking to him. How comfortable you feel around him, as if you were old friends. As if you hadn’t been so mean to him only the night before.

You don’t know him well. But you remember that he’s always had a big heart, offering his forgiveness to those who didn’t deserve it. Would you ruin him? But maybe a little selfishly, you want to chase this feeling.

“I went to this park earlier,” You murmur, swirling your wine in your glass, “It’s really pretty and quiet. I used to go there all the time when I was younger.”

“You’ve been to Tokyo before?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah,” You nod, “I used to come here a lot when I was a kid and spend summers here with Appa. Sometimes Grandma, too. Appa taught me Japanese from when I was really young, it’s probably why I’m even on this team…”

“That’s not true, you’re on this team because you’re really smart and good at what you do! And I know Namjoon values your opinion a lot-” Jungkook protests, an annoyed furrow in his brow. Is that really what you think of yourself?

You laugh and give him a grateful smile. With a breath of seemingly transient courage, you part your lips- “Jungkook,” Your voice is soft and small and nothing like what he’s used to, “I want to-”

And then you’re both interrupted by both Sana and Namjoon slinging their arms around your shoulders. Jungkook gives you a reassuring smile, a promise that you’ll talk later. You wonder if you’ll lose your courage by then.

Namjoon pulls you away from Jungkook and Sana, introducing you to some people that you’ve never met. You recognize them as higher ups, Hyo-Jin, the head of submissions for all of Asia and Hae-ri, the head of business development. The realization makes you take a few generous sips of your wine and straighten your back.

You can hear Jin’s voice in your head, telling you to make a good impression. Namjoon easily pulls you into the conversation, giving you plenty of opportunity to insert yourself in-

“She’s my right hand woman, though I don’t think even that is a good enough term to tell you what she is to me,” Namjoon says. Compliments like that always fluster you, and this time is no different.

“Namjoon speaks too highly of me,” You brush him off, “I’m just glad I have this opportunity, I mean being on the submissions team has always been one of my favorite parts of the job.”

“Oh? Do you see a future for yourself in submissions?” Hyo-Jin asks curiously, with a quirk of an elegant eyebrow. She’s a no nonsense woman, you can tell just from the five minutes you’ve had with her.

“I definitely want to lead submissions teams one day. I mean, Namjoon is a great teacher,” You grin, elbowing him, “But even more than that… I’d like to oversee an entire product line end to end later down the line. And I think it’s important to invest in our young talent, too-”

“Young talent? As in people development?” Hyo-Jin asks.

“Yeah, I mean they’re our future leaders, aren’t they? It’s important that they have the tools to succeed now and beyond,” You say vehemently.

Hyo-Jin says nothing, only nodding and taking a sip of her drink. “And you? Do you have the tools to succeed now and beyond as a future leader?”

The question makes you stumble. Do you throw your boss under the bus? But you’ve never been a liar, and you sure as hell won’t start now.

“No,” You say bluntly, “I’ve learned so much with Namjoon and being part of this team. And in general being part of regulatory and submissions projects. But I don’t think my skill set is being effectively used in my current role. If you want an honest answer.”

You can practically hear Jin scolding you from far away. But you won’t build a professional relationship on a fallacy. To your surprise, Hyo-Jin smiles.

“That’s refreshing,” She says, her painted lips splitting into a smile.

“What is?” You ask, feeling rather stupid.

“Your honesty,” Hae-ri chimes in, “People aren’t always honest with us, because of our titles. Like they have something to prove.”

“Yeah, well, maybe people are rightfully more concerned about making a good first impression than I am,” You joke, gripping the handle of your wine glass tighter. Hyo-Jin and Hae-ri both laugh with you, telling you to put time on their calendars to meet with them virtually when you go back to South Korea after the trip. With that, they both slip away from you, making sure you know that they appreciated your presence. And then you let out a breath.

“Holy shit. I fucked that up,” You mutter, “My boss is going to kill me, Joon. What the hell is wrong with me-”

“Relax,” Namjoon says easily, his dimples on display, “They loved you. Trust me, they loved you. They already knew who you were, you know.”

“What? How could they possibly know who I was?” You gasp incredulously, “I’m a nobody!”

“Seokjin’s right. For someone so smart, you’re dumb-”

“Hey! That’s unprofessional of you,” You say, but a smile threatens your lips.

“They never tell anyone to put time on their calendars unless they like them. So just trust me. And this submission has the eyes of all of the higher ups. Our good work doesn’t go unnoticed.”

“I just,” You sigh, “I’m used to it going unnoticed. So I guess… Thank you. For your leadership, your guidance… and your friendship.”

He smiles at you brightly and clinks his glass with you. “C’mon, let’s go find Mark.”

Jungkook can’t help but cast his eyes in your direction every so often. He knew, he knew you were about to say something poignant at the bar. All of the signs were there- your serious eyes, the way you forced yourself to look him in the face, the barely there nervousness that he could taste.

It seems that everyone suddenly wants a piece of you- you flit around with Namjoon, taking it all in as he introduces you to people. Jungkook is beyond happy for you, that you’re finally getting the recognition you deserve from the company.

But still, he can’t help but crave just a minute alone with you. Especially when he sees Mark’s face light up at the sight of you, pulling you into a too-friendly hug. And you don’t even realize it, it seems. Only offering him a smile in return, surprise coloring your face when he hugs you so tightly.

Jungkook tries his best to stay present in the conversation he’s in, with Sana and a few other members of the Tokyo team. But he has such a nice view of you that he can’t help his eyes drifting every so often. He can’t help noticing the way your pink pants sit on your hips, and the way your black blouse is tucked into them. More than that though, he can’t help noticing Mark noticing.

Do you know? That Mark sees you in that light? He’s so obvious about it, and yet. It seems like you’re oblivious.

Namjoon eventually excuses himself from both of you, claiming that he can hear Sana calling for him. You think nothing of it, shrugging and continuing your conversation with Mark.

“Hey, you did great today,” Mark compliments, stepping just a hair closer to you.

“Oh! Thanks, I know,” You wink at him, “I have a great team, I mean it.”

“Well,” Mark says, taking a sip of his soju, “You’re pretty great, too.”

“Oh, stop,” You wave him off with a roll of your eyes, “You don’t need to butter me up, Mark. Save it.”

“C’mon, you know I mean it. We’ve been through a lot, you and I,” Mark says with a crooked sort of grin. You understand why people fawn over him, that smile could get anyone to do anything but you roll your eyes.

“Have we, Mark?” You ask dryly.

“We go way back,” He says self-assuredly, almost cockily.

“No, we don’t,” You mumble under your breath, and he hears you. You subtly take a step back from him, turning on your side. Only to find Jungkook already looking at you.

“You wound me,” Mark murmurs, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. You roll your eyes, but still give him the same grin. It’s polite, nothing more, nothing less.

The way Mark looks at you teeters on the edge of something more than friendly professionalism. It’s clear that you both have known each other for a while. Maybe through work? Maybe something else? It bothers Jungkook, and he knows it shouldn’t. Especially when Mark leaves you for a minute, only to return with a refill of your wine.

An irritating ember settles in the pit of Jungkook’s stomach. Perhaps he has an ulcer, he thinks dryly.

Mark has your phone number, from other projects you’ve worked with him on. He does text you every so often, maybe once every few months. You’ve never thought much of it, only responding to him out of obligation since he is your colleague and technically your superior. You don’t think it’s malicious- he’s always been a charmer. Even when you first met him when you first started at the company.

By the time you manage to shake yourself of Mark, Jungkook has disappeared. How long has it been since you’ve been here? You look outside of the windows quickly, taking in the darkness of the sky and the moon hanging from it.

“Hey, you ready to head back to the hotel?” Namjoon asks, Sana already in her coat next to him.

“Yeah, where’s Jungkook?” You ask, craning your neck to see the top of his fluffy hair.

“He left a bit ago. Said he wasn’t feeling well,” Sana says, fastening the buttons on her coat. The bitter pill of regret settles in your belly. How ironic that he had left happy hour saying he wasn’t feeling well, when that had been your excuse to not attend.

So still, even when you are in your hotel room after the happy hour, changed in your pajamas and about to watch a show to end your night, you think nothing of it when Mark texts you later that night:

Mark: it was good to see you tn :)

Despite Mark’s name lighting up your phone, you feel an ache in your heart. Over the fact that you hadn’t had the chance to speak to Jungkook. He’s somewhere in this hotel, and you could, you really could just ask Namjoon his room number and talk to him. But the bolt of courage from earlier seems to have fizzled out long ago.

So you text Mark back instead. Thinking nothing of it.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook fluff

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kstewdeux · 4 years

Text

Scars On My Heart

Orginally Posted on FFN and Ao3 for @superpixie42

"It's just a stupid cut," InuYasha snapped as he tried to scramble backwards without wincing, "It'll get better in the morning. I don't need you to clean it."

"Oh yes. Whatever could go wrong," Kagome countered scathingly as she watched the black haired boy literally back himself into a corner, "Why bother cleaning a dirt covered wound? It'll just seal up all that dirt in the morning and you'll get blood poisoning. No big deal."

Inuyasha smirked despite himself before his glare returned full force.

"You just want to see me naked," he tried hoping her embarrassment would get her to leave him alone.

"Oh. You got me. That was my plan all along," Kagome bit back sarcastically before giving him a withering glare, "Shirt. Off."

"Make me," he snarled and Kagome sighed.

"You're so immature."

"You're immature."

"Great comeback," Kagome snorted, "Doesn't sound like something a child would say at all."

"I'm not a child!"

"Then stop acting like one," Kagome clipped back as she raised an eyebrow, "You want to keep going? We've got all night and I'm not backing down until you let me see your wound."

The stare down that followed would've sent chills down even Naraku's spine before InuYasha admitted defeat and began shrugging out of his clothes.

"Not like dirt even got on it," he muttered scathingly, "Stupid woman. Being all dramatic."

Kagome ignored the insult as she collected the linens and disinfectant she had laid out. Scooting towards the seething man sending daggers at her with his dark eyes, she gently wiped away the smeared blood before her hand paused. Wiping again, she realized that some of the dark pink streaks weren't blood smears at all.

"What are these?" Kagome whispered as she traced a few with her finger and Inuyasha's angry countenance faded as he looked down.

"Nothing," he replied indifferently, "Hurry up already. That shit burns my nose."

"They're scars," she whispered as her eyes traveled across his chest. It was littered with them. How had she never noticed before?

"Are you blind? They've been there woman," he hissed as insecurity welled in his chest, "Like I said. They're nothing."

"I've never seen them," she replied softly as her gaze drifted upwards to his neck. Several purplish jagged lines adorned his throat. Like multiple someones had tried to slice it at one point or another. A shaky sigh escaped her lips.

"When did these happen?" she asked quietly as she traced a particular nasty one on his throat with her finger causing him to shiver. Not because it felt good either. He'd always assumed she'd been able to see them. A cold feeling of dread settled uneasily in his gut.

"Years ago," he admitted nervously as his eyes searched her face. She looked so sad. He swallowed thickly and unfortunately the movement accentuated the pale purplish lines causing Kagome's eyes to widen incrementally.

There were so many of them. Not one or two or even three. Dozens of people had tried to slit his throat. Dozens.

Forcing his chin up so she could inspect them more thoroughly, she really should've seen what followed coming. Hell hath no fury like an insecure half-demon.

"Get the fuck off" he snapped as he roughly pushed her away before instantly regretting what he'd done when Kagome fell onto her back. Her head making a soft thump as it made contact.

"Wait. Shit. Are you okay? I didn't mean..." he hissed as he scrambled forward and gently helped her back up, "Sorry. I just..."

"It's fine, InuYasha," she sighed as she rubbed the back of her head. He looked more miserable and horrified than she'd ever seen before.

"I hurt you," he whispered as his human eyes seemed to scan her body for injuries before, finding nothing worrisome, he finally relaxed. Kinda.

"I tried to pop the personal space bubble," Kagome laughed softly, "Should've known better."

"The what?" he blurted before the rest of what she'd said registered.

"You think I'd hurt you," he accused as his heart broke and she shook her head.

"I'm not saying that," she comforted as she gave him a reassuring smile, "Just saying I shouldn't have tried to do that."

Whatever she was doing was having the opposite effect of what she wanted. InuYasha suddenly looked so incredibly lost and scared and unsure of himself. Obviously unnerved by what he'd done and upset about what she'd said. If it wasn't so sad, she might've laughed at the uncharacteristic behavior. It was weird. Just...weird.

"Do you want to look at them?" he finally asked as he cast her a quick glance. He could fix this, he thought. He needed to fix this. He'd hurt her. Oh god he'd actually hurt her.

"The scars you mean?" she clarified and he nodded. His mind still replaying the last excruciating minute over and over and over. His self loathing building until he very seriously almost puked. Stupid human emotions. Making him do shit and feel.

"Do you want me to?" She asked hesistantly and he shrugged in reply. Truth be told, no. No he didn't. He didn't like being stared at on a good day. Especially when those stares focused on part of himself that were different.

All this time he'd assumed she saw them. Even on occasion when he felt like punishing himself, he almost thought she found him attractive despite his married skin, and demon traits. The demonic traits she obviously wasn't bothered by but the scars she clearly had never noticed before did. They seemed to bother her a lot.

Was she disgusted by him now? He had just gotten used to her genuine acceptance too. Assuming that she really didn't care about his appearance but now he knew the truth. It was entirely possible her vision was so bad she just didn't know.

Maybe she couldn't see what he looked like at all. That would explain a lot actually.

Either way he needed to fix all of this. He needed to fix it now.

Swallowing thickly, he nodded as he moved back into the corner and waited for the doom that was inevitably coming.

"Why don't I see these when you're normal?" Kagome asked as she scooted forward and began looking at the scars of his chest more closely. The small line over his heart that had clearly been placed there by Kikyo's arrow. The deep purple puckered one where Sesshomaru had thrust his hand through his stomach. But there was a series of healed gashes wrapping around his side that had her particularly concerned.

"I dunno," he muttered awkwardly. Being examined so throughly made him uneasy. She seemed so intrigued by those marks on his skin and not in a good way. Had she really never noticed before? What else had she not seen?

"I normally have dog ears, ya know," he muttered in an unsure tone that had her looking up at him instantly in amusement.

"No duh," she giggled, "What do they have to do with these scars?"

Well that was one less thing bothering him. She wasn't blind as a...

Wait, what the hell? What did she mean what did his ears have to do with...

"Are you really that stupid? I only have these because of those ears. Because of what I am," he snapped angrily as he glared down at her.

"I didn't mean..." Kagome groaned as she sat back on her knees and gave him a patient glare, "I was just wondering why you said that."

"Because you're acting like this," he gestured to his exposed torso, "Is new. Like it hasn't always been there."

"I've seen you literally naked before and you don't have these when you're your usual self," Kagome pointed out with an amused smile that fell when he merely looked confused, "At least to human eyes, I guess. Can you see them all the time?"

He let out a shuddering breath as he tried to get his anger back under control. Why were emotions so much harder as a human?

"They're lighter normally. More silver," he admitted finally as he awkwardly shifted his weight. He'd always assumed...

Maybe the others couldn't see them either. The scars invisible to human eyes. Shippo noticed. InuYasha knew he had. There were times the stupid brat seemed a little too focused on the worst of these blemishes when he thought no one was watching.

"Maybe that's it then," she hummed as she glanced over her chest before her eyes drifted back to those deep grooves wrapping across his stomach from the back.

"What's this one?" she asked quietly as she reached out and ran her finger across one of the shockingly deep valleys. He cringed and sat up a little straighter so his back was nearly flush against the wall. The scars on his chest, though numerous and ugly themselves, were the least of his problems. His chest wasn't a veritable topographical map complete with enough sprawling grooves that someone might mistake it for tree bark. At least the part she was looking at now had some smooth areas.

"It's a scar stupid," he clipped back hoping that the insult would end this line of questioning before swearing silently when her hand suddenly slipped behind him and her eyes widened in horror.

"Let me see your back," she breathed and he shook his head.

"I'm still bleeding," he pointed out as he desperately tried to change the subject, "You need to finish what you started. What about blood poisioning?"

"The bandage will have to wrap around your middle which will require me seeing your back," she pointed out with a knowing look.

"It's not that bad," he argued weakly, "Just put one of those bandaids on it."

"InuYasha," Kagome warned, "Don't make me say it."

"You wouldn't dare," he sneered although she could hear the genuine fear in his tone. She didn't sit him when he was human for a very good reason. The miko had done so once before when he was human and the spell had straight up broken his nose. Blood had gushed out all night after Sango had set it and the resulting bruise took two full days to disappear. To call the incident unpleasant would be an understatement.

"Then lay down and let me see your back," she challenged and the glare off began. Growing in intensity as they shot daggers and screamed at each other through expression alone. The problem he had was that he knew she would never let this go if he didn't fold. Might even be afraid to touch that part of him if she thought it might aggravate injuries long since healed. Kagome riding his back was definitely not something he had any intention of giving up. Which caused a conflict of It's own. If she saw, she might not want to touch him at all. Might be disgusted by the memory of seeing the mottled, disturbing sight.

"I just want to see," she finally asked in a soft, pleading tone as she batted her eyelashes at him and pouted prettily. His resolve wavered at the dirty trick.

"You're still you Inuyasha. I feel bad that I've never noticed before," she tried again in the sweetest, least cheesy tone she could manage and he folded.

Damn her.

Sighing, he slowly sprawled out on the floor, wincing when his still unattended injury hit the gritty floor. So much for worrying about the previously not covered in dirt wound.

Kagome's soft gasp felt like a thousand daggers in his heart. He turned his face away from her and rested his cheek on his arms. She'd never look at him the same again and a part of him grieved the inevitable loss.

"What happened?" she asked as her fingers trailed down the heavily grooved flesh. How could she have missed this? His back normally felt so smooth and this was far from the first time she'd tended to an injury.

"What do you think happened?" he chuckled darkly, "I got hurt."

Clearly, Kagome thought miserably as her eyes followed a strange series of wide loops. They had obviously been stretched over time. As he had grown, the skin had been pulled to match his larger stature.

"These are from when you were small," she whispered as she traced the asymmetrical grooves that were much, much deeper than they looked and were to blame for the wrap around blemish as well.

"Yeah," he sighed heavily. He knew which ones she was referring too. Those had been the first ugly marks he'd received.

"Are they from a whip?" she asked cautiously and he nodded.

"Why?" she asked quietly before huffing in frustration and backpedaling, "I mean I know why, why but I just..."

"My grandfather tied me to a post after mother died," he explained softly, "Something about the plague. I can't really remember."

She let out a shuddering breath and her fingers stilled for a moment.

"Is that how your mother died? She got sick?" Kagome asked as her fingers began lazily tracing the elaborate purplish groove once more and he nodded. Truth be told, it felt nice to have her touch him so intimately. When she usually tended to his injuries touch was just a means to an end. Deliberate and purposeful. This was...

He shivered slightly at the sensation.

"Sorry," she cringed as she retracted her hand, "Did that hurt?"

"No. Just cold is all," he lied softly, "You can keep looking if you want."

"There's so many," she murmured sadly as her fingers splayed out against his back and he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning. This wasn't bad. This wasn't bad at all. Why had he fought her again?

"What's this one?" she asked as one finger pressed lightly into a crescent shaped groove above his shoulder blade. He shrugged and the movement caused the marred flesh to crumple around her fingertip.

"I get injured a lot Kagome. You can't expect me to remember each time," he sighed.

"I..." the miko began as she lifted her hand and leaned over to look at his face, "I've been working on using my power to heal injuries. Since you're human right now, would you mind if I practiced? Maybe I can fade some of them. If you want."

The prospect of Kagome basically giving him a massage was very, very tempting. Whatever she wanted to try obviously wasn't going to work but who was he to say no to a pretty girl wanting to run her hands all over him?

He nodded before a satisfied hum escaped him when her palms suddenly pressed against the base of his back, applying slightly more pressure as they began sliding upwards before running down his sides. Again and again and again until he was panting slightly.

His mind lazily drifted into a less than innocent direction as he allowed himself to pretend that she still somehow found him attractive and her hands were running over him for an entirely different reason. It was especially easy to fantasize when her fingers trailed over his hip bone. A little too easy.

This needed to stop before he did something else to fuck up the best thing that had ever happen to him.

"I think that's enough," he sighed as he pushed himself back up into a sitting position.

"I got rid of a few," she offered with a proud little smile that had his heart melting.

"Did you?" he laughed before his face fell and his insecurity peeked out its head in his mind. He needed to get ahold of himself before he got his hopes up.

"I still can't do deeper scars but..." she admitted before trailing off when she noticed how he was withdrawing into himself.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked before mentally smacking herself upside the head. She was just winning the asking stupid questions game tonight, wasn't she?

"I have a scar too," she offered and he glanced at her in confusion, "Do you want to see?"

Before he could respond, she was pulling her shirt up and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head as smooth creamy flesh he'd never gotten a good look at before was exposed for his viewing pleasure. Not only was he allowed to look, he was expected to look and his little, very male heart could barely handle it.

"See? Where the jewel popped out," she commented oblivious to his inner struggle. It wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it was but it was still rather deep. The hot pink puckered blemish the only thing even remotely flawed about her stomach. His hand moved before he could stop himself. His calloused palm resting on her waist as his thumb gently caressed the mark. Trailing up and down over the scar while the sensation of his hand on her skin overwhelmed his system.

His eyes trailed over the light tan curves of her stomach. His mind trying to commit the sight to memory. Counting every freckle and taking note of every minute detail.

"Still beautiful," he whispered more to himself than her before he inhaled sharply and retracted his hand like it burned. He hadn't meant to say that out loud dammit. He hadn't...

"You...you think I'm beautiful?" Kagome asked softly and his heart plummeted to the bottom of his stomach as he waited for the axe to fall. Her hands lowering her shirt slowly as her sapphire eyes tried to read his mortified expression.

Smiling softly, she scooter closer to him and he flinched.

"You think I'm pretty," she teased and his humiliation only grew as he glared at the floor to his side. That was a stupid thing to say. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. St...

He gasped softly when her lips suddenly were pressed against his own. Each meeting slow and lingering and coaxing him to respond and with a soft groan he did.

Panting heavily several long heated moments later, he stared at her in utter confusion.

"Why'd you do that?" he managed to breathe.

"Because I think you're pretty too."

InuYasha snorted before pulling her in so he could kiss her again.

#Inuyasha FanFiction #Inuyasha #Kagome #InuKag #FFN #ao3 #fanfic writers #inuyasha fanfiction #inukag fanfic #i'm lazy #second verse same as the first

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lookforthefuture49 · 3 years

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Yo!

I got a fanfiction, finally. I don't expect it to be read much here, but here are the links to fanfiction.net and Ao3 pages for it respectively:

Ao3

Fanfiction.net

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13947355/1/Universal-Wars-aren-t-fun

Ok now I can paste it.

Enjoy <3

[Note: this story is only to be on Archive of Our Own/Fanfiction.net under the username DoubleKKookie and on Tumblr under the username Retrooutlaw. IF YOU SEE IT ANYWHERE ELSE, PLEASE SHOOT ME A PM! This is also kinda meant for funsies, obviously.]

Note note: half created by AI Dungeon. Yay for Ai Generated fanfiction lol

[Universal wars aren't fun//1//Battlegrounds]

Izuku's hair ruffled in the wind, the view of a crumbling city crossing his vision. It was odd, how one minute the world was peaceful, and the next an inter-dimensional war decided to happen. During this war of many universes, most of his world was ravaged. Izuku figured he would probably be safe, at least for now. His world might be a battleground, but he wasn't in the midst of the fight. He wouldn't hurt people from other worlds just because some of their worst villains wanted to attack other places. In fact, Izuku just wanted an excuse to help these new people, to stop their worlds from being ruined too. His plan was to travel between the worlds.

Except, all he got was a dazed sense of incompleteness as the world around him seemed to flicker. For a moment, it seemed as if he were home again visiting his mother over a break, excited to see what his friends did. He could feel a couple of tears form, but of happiness, of joy. However, just as quickly as this flicker came, it left, and he came to the realization he was just remembering the past, that he was still alone in the forest, and that seemed to worsen his sad state.

Izuku turned and took a few steps. He had to get moving, and he had to get moving now. He didn't quite know where he was going, but he knew it was far from his home. All he knew was that he had to keep moving, and find a new reason to fight. So, Izuku decided to just keep walking. He made his way through the forest, dodging branches and occasional bokoblins.

Bokoblins were odd, as he'd never seen them before the inter-universal war began. They hadn't even kinda existed in his world, but now he felt like he was fending the creatures off every other step. He never attacked them, but it seemed like he was constantly running from them, even if they were obviously weak.

This rural area he'd found himself in looked to be nearly untouched by the war. Still, there was this odd sense of unease, and Izuku felt like he was being watched. Like he was being watched every step of the way.

Fearful of this feeling of a watchful eye burning a hole into his back, he began to speed up, getting to the point of running. Running as far as he could, as fast as he could.

The more he ran, the faster he felt himself becoming. He couldn't tell what time of day it was, but he knew that it had to be night.

He ran for what felt like an eternity before stopping, legs buckling under him

He fell to the ground, trying not to cry out. He stood back up, deciding if he was going to be upset about a stupid war, he was gonna do it where it was safe, so he stumbled away from the wide open area he was in, and eventually found a flat-topped building, which he entered before reaching the roof and staring out at the more rural area he had found himself in. What modern building were there, such as this one, were overrun with vines and ivy.

He sat down on the roof and wrapped his arms around his knees, finally letting everything soak in. This situation was garbage. He'd been left behind by the civilians who escaped, he had no idea where his friends were, and he had no way of contacting any heroes or any of his peers to come to his aid.

Izuku didn't want to think about the possibility that they were all dead, but looking at the modern buildings being overtaken like this one, he couldn't help but think such a thing. If the entire town was this destroyed, how on earth could THEY be ok?

He didn't understand how something so bad could happen. How the world could ever go back to normal after what was happening right now, Izuku didn't know. But, all he could do now was try to help, and help he would. The moment he saw a portal open, it was his door to purpose, to other people, whoever they were.

He didn't care what world he stepped into. He didn't care if he died, he just wanted to make a difference. It was no longer about this world, about him, or any of the pro-heroes he once loved. Now, if it meant death, he'd stop this war. He decided right then and there he'd do it for his friends, for his family, for All Might, and for whoever he met on the other side of the portal he was adamant on finding.

He wouldn't fail. Lifting his arms from his legs, he rested his face against his knees and took a deep breath. He lifted his head up, staring to the sky.

"I promise, I'll save everyone. No matter what."

...

Izuku sat on that roof for several more minutes before deciding to resume his search. He stood up, left the roof, and began to walk again- until he heard something. Multiple people, a fair distance away behind him. Judging from what he was hearing of the conversation, they hadn't noticed him yet, and were rather focused on someone who sounded distressed and wanted to get away from them. He hid behind the building as the group of people came into sight, listening into their conversation closely.

"LET ME GO!" He heard peirce the air, and when he could see the group, he noted the man who yelled it was being dragged by the arms by two other people, and this man also looked.. unexplainably odd. His appearance didn't matter now, though. What was important was the predicament he was in.

"Would you just put me down already!?" He snapped again.

His supposed captors looked even angrier than they had initially.

"Our leader says that's not allowed, bucko." One of the two people holding him said. His voice was gruff and southern.

He had a goatee and his hair was slicked back. The other one was female, model-esque.

She had long, curly blonde hair, calm blue eyes and slick red lipstick, which was weird for someone to be wearing in this kind of situation.

"Our orders are very clear. Boss wants you."

"I DON'T KNOW WHO YOUR STUPID BOSS IS BUT I CAN ASSURE YOU-"

The southern-sounding captor pulled a lighter from his pocket, and with it lit, rammed it into the torso of the man. He let out a blood-curdling scream and then didn't say another word afterwards. he, nor his clothes, had caught on fire, oddly enough. The southern guy snarled at the man. Izuku wasn't entirely sure who was good or bad in this situation, but he was irked by the entire scene. The only hard part was deciphering if the one who was captured by these two was good or bad, as saving a villain in the midst of a crazy war would be pretty counter-productive. From the way this man's captors were talking, however, he figured he was either a hero like him, or just in the moral gray trying to stay out of things.

Taking a risk, he stepped out from the shadows...

"Stop!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. They turned to look at him, and their eyes went wide.

He pointed at the man. "You two! Release him right now!"

"What do you think you're doing?" The southern one hissed angrily. "This is none of your business, kid! Go back to where you came from!"

His eyes flicked to the man, who seemed to be either knocked out or unresponsive, as he hadn't even twitched when Izuku shouted in his general direction.

"I don't care! He's being mistreated! I won't stand for it!"

The model (At least, Izuku assumed she was a model) whisper-hissed something at her comrade, who just scowled and shook his head. The two started arguing in hushed voices, as the man they dragged here was now beginning to stir.

When he did open his eyes, fear was clear in them immediately, probably thinking the glare Izuku was directing at his enemies was for him. He calmed after a moment, however. The pair seemed bugged but opted to leave without the man now that they'd been found by someone else. (Maybe that's what they were arguing about) They dropped the man harshly, although he didn't seem to be bothered by this at all. He seemed more bothered by the burn mark just below his chest, which, while small, seemed to be quite painful. It was hard for Izuku to gauge what the man was feeling, though, since he looked dead. Not just figuratively, but quite literally rotten and dead. It was strange, but Izuku decided not to question it, for that wouldn't help either of their situations. He instead walked up to the man, hoping to maybe initiate a conversation.

"Hey, um..." Izuku wasn't really sure what to say to him. He didn't know his name, for one.

The other was that he looked like he'd been through hell and back. He had a multitude of scars, both old and new, on his face and body. They were either dark purple, black, or was a hole, which revealed an empty vessel underneath. In fact, his entire complexion was purple, which struck Izuku as off. Any normal person, quirk or not, definitely was not supposed to be dead and purple.

"Are you alright?" Izuku decided to start with. Simple enough.

"Yeah, I'm perfectly fine." (That comment definitely didn't pan out, but Izuku didn't know his life. Maybe this was normal.) Izuku noted a prominent British accent, one he hadn't noticed while the man was shouting angrily, which was odd, because he probably should have. Taking a closer look at him, the strange man was thin, mangy, and also lacked hair. His pupils were glowing, which also really was strange, and the whites of his eyes were now, instead, pitch black. It was somewhat unsettling, but Izuku tried not to think much of it.

"What was all that about?"

"Frankly, I dunno. One minute everything was normal and I was sitting at home, and the next those two were dragging me along to their 'boss'." He replied.

"I tried to get away, but it wasn't exactly easy. I kinda miss having muscles." He said this in a very nonchalant way, shrugging. Evidently, this man was missing vital body parts, who knows how many, and he was acting like it was completely fine.

"I... see," Izuku said, though he wasn't sure what else to say.

"So, what about you, kid? What's your name?"

"Izuku. Call me Deku, please." He stuck out a hand.

"Michael." The other shook his hand, and Izuku noted that he felt no bones in his hand, like it wasn't solid. It was strange, completely empty. "Uhm, do you know what's been going on lately?"

Michael did not reply immediately. "I dunno, something about some war? It didn't seem to pertain to me until I was dragged into a different world entirely, but feel free to explain."

"All I'm really sure of right now is that there is an Inter-Universal War going on right now, and I want it to end. Mostly because it's left my home a wreck, and I don't want that to happen to anybody else's."

Michael nodded in understanding.

"I can appreciate your feelings on the matter."

...

"How long have you been here?"

"Probably only a little over 2 hours."

Izuku had given Michael the choice to stick with him or go off on his own, and, not knowing what else to do, he agreed. Now they walked aimlessly as Izuku tried to explain a bit about what his world used to be like, and just make small talk. Izuku had decided the moment Michael agreed to tag along that he would not question his purple complexion or the lack of internal structure. It seemed like it might be rude, or bring back bad memories if he said the wrong thing, and he didn't want to cause that.

"I see."

They continued in silence for about an hour, before Michael spoke up again.

"I think I prefer this place over my home, truth be told."

Izuku was a little surprised that he would say something so out of nowhere. "Why?" He asked.

"I could go on for days about the terrible things that happened there." Michael sighed. "I don't particularly like dwelling on the past, so I tried to block it out. But here, it's all right. Even the atmosphere feels less oppressive, even if it's obviously still chaotic here."

Izuku frowned. "That's a pretty deep feeling to come up with so suddenly.

"I've had plenty of time to think, and this is the only conclusion I've come to."

...

The night took a long time to come, and Izuku still could find no portals, nor salvation in another world. He would have to wait another day. The pair sat down, and Izuku found himself falling asleep quite quickly...

It seemed like only seconds had passed when he felt something pulling him back to reality. He opened his eyes, and saw that the sky was beginning to turn pink.

"Get up." Michael whispered.

Izuku squinted, kind of annoyed. "Why?" He whispered back.

"I hear a large group of people coming, and I don't want to risk anything."

"Alright." Izuku nodded.

He stood up, as quietly as he could, and stretched, yawning. He was about to head off when he heard the sounds of many feet marching nearby. They were getting closer every second. He halted said stretching, and opted to climb up a tree. Michael made an attempt to hide, slipping behind a tree, but he was pretty easy to spot if one simply looked a little.

Izuku looked down at the group of men, as they marched by. His only question was why they were marching along together like this, and here of all things. They almost looked like soldiers, marching along with random weapons in hand. They were of varying species, although Izuku did not pay mind to this. When they passed and were far enough, Izuku leaped down and gestured for Michael to follow him as they tailed the group to see where they were going.

"What is this?" He hissed. They were headed towards a large open area. The group marched on, keeping pace, until they were they were the size of ants in distance. Izuku looked out to the open, treeless plains ahead. It took a minute to click in his mind, and he realized as Michael caught up what the plains were.

They were in the midst of a battlefield.

That's a wrap :D

#fanfiction #fnaf #five nights at freddy’s #my hero acadamy #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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peanut-in-the-goal · 4 years

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@kielemarie Okay look. You’re sad I get that, but ily. We all love you. Your mutuals here, we’re like your team I guess. We love you, and we’re there for you. Always. (also I’m sorry, I was thinking of you and I couldn’t hurt him. I still hope you like it, I’m willing to try again if you don’t)

Logan was sad. Really sad. And it kind of broke Leo and Finn. It broke the team who could see him so upset..

They didn’t know what they could do for him, or how to help, but they weren’t going to leave his side. That was for sure.

They were going to stay there with him, they were going to love him, and support him. They were going to be strong when he was down, they’d build him back up when he fell.

They wouldn’t let go. No matter how much he fought it, how much he pushed them away. They saw through him, they saw Logan.

They saw his goofy grin, bigger than life personality, his instinct to protect those he loves. He just didn’t seem to realize that he was trying to protect them from himself…

But of course, Leo and Finn wouldn’t let that happen. Because underneath the fierceness of his words, they saw the sadness in his heart.

And they couldn’t have that, could they? Of course not, they loved him far too much. His sisters loved him far too much. Cap, his brother, loved him far too much.

So they’ll love him. They’ll care for him, and hug him, and make sure he’s okay. Because he comes first, always. And he needs to know that.

_____________

“Okay Tremzy, come ‘ere.” Leo walked into their bedroom, rolling the sleeves of his old hoodie up to his elbows. Logan made a mumbling sound, pushing his face further into the pillows, and hitching the blanket up higher.

“Don’t wanna,” he grumbled. He hugged his pillow tiger with the sweater paws that came along with Leo’s well worn, oversized hoodie.

“Okay then,” Leo said. Logan could hear the smile in his voice. Before he could lift his head to see what he was on about, he felt Leo’s strong arms lift him up. Blanket and all. He shrieked in surprise, before immediately curling closer to Leo.

“Knutty,” He groaned. Still, he couldn’t help the slight laugh that slipped through his mouth, he felt lighter than he had in days. Literally.

And gosh, did Leo miss that laugh, and that crooked grin that Logan seemed to always have on.

He couldn’t help it, Leo had to lean down and kissed him.

Logan laughed again, and Leo swears that he’s never heard anything more beautiful. He’s never seen anything so beautiful, the way his eyes shone brighter than he’s seen in a while. It made room for hope. Still, they weren’t as bright as usual, something was bothering him.

Leo spun him in his arms, Logan’s arms twined around his neck, holding on for dear life it felt like. In more ways than one.

“Knut if you drop me…” he trailed off, eyes glued to the floor as he clung on tighter. He knew Leo was a giant, but how was he this tall?

“Come on,” Leo said, dropping a kiss to his forehead as he walked them to the kitchen. Leo placed on the counter gently, turning and rifling through their freezer.

“Nut?” Logan moved to sit up and jump down, off the counter. His bad mood remained, the thoughts that were screaming in his head were still there. But they weren’t as loud as before, not as insistent looking for a way out.

Leo always had that effect on him it seemed, he made him feel whole again. Both him and Fish did. He was happy that they hadn’t given up on him yet. Apparently, they saw something in him that he couldn’t see in himself.

Leo turned, placing a tub of ice cream next to him. He smiled fondly when he read the label. Cookie dough, his favorite.

He looked back up, meeting Leo’s kind but determined eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off.

“You’re sad,” Leo said.

Logan snorted, “Way to be blunt Nutter Butter.” Leo fixed him with a look that said he wasn’t done talking yet. Leo placed both his arms on either side of Logan, trapping him in. Logan sighed, twining his arms around Leo’s neck again.

“You’re sad, and I want help. Me and Harzy both do. So,” He started again. “Since Fish isn’t home, we’re watching Disney movies and eating ice cream until you fall asleep.”

“Wha—” Logan spluttered. He definitely wasn’t expecting this today, but it was much better than his plan of laying in bed, wrapped in Leo’s hoodie and Finn’s sweats. (It smelled like them, and he wanted all the comfort he could get.)

“Tremzy…” Leo swiped the pad of his thumb over Logan’s cheek, softly caressing his face. “You don’t have to be strong all the time… It’s okay to not be okay. Comprenez vous?” He asked softly.

Logan felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Tears welled in his eyes.

“It’s so hard to pretend all the time.” He whispered, the lump swelling in his throat making it harder and harder to speak.

“I know,” Leo said. He moved, his arms wrapped around Logan’s torso, pulling him closer to the edge of the counter so he could bury his face in his neck. “I know,” Leo said again. “And you don’t have too, not with us okay?”

Leo felt the small nod from where Logan was soaking up comfort in the crook of his neck. He dropped a kiss to Logan’s hair when he felt the first of the tears fall.

He’d stay here all night if that’s what Logan needed. Standing there in the kitchen with Logan in his arms while he cried himself to sleep. He just hoped that the ice cream wouldn’t melt.

Leo would move mountains for Logan, cross oceans, anything. Because Logan deserved the absolute world, and Leo was going to do his damn best to give him that.

And yeah, maybe the ice cream did melt, maybe they didn’t get to the movies. But Logan felt lighter than he had in days, weeks maybe. Like a weight had been lifted off his chest, he could breathe, and suddenly his troubles weren’t worrying him anymore.

That it was okay to not be okay all the time. He didn’t have to act tough. He was allowed to be sad, that would go unsaid. Some days it was harder to accept that than others.

He was so used to hiding, it was a breath of fresh air when he remembered when he was safe here. Then again, he always felt safe here, right here, back in Leo’s arms again. And maybe he’ll be down again one day in the near future, maybe he’ll be sad, and that’s okay.

And when Finn came home that day, he found Logan asleep in Leo’s arms. A melted tub of ice cream beside them, soft snores coming from the green-eyed boy. Leo smiled tiredly at Finn when he walked through the door, looking ready to fall asleep standing there, but not giving into unconsciousness until he was sure that Finn got home alright.

They often wondered how they deserved Leo Knut.

Finn and Leo smiled down at Logan. Happy that he was finally asleep after the few rough nights he’s had.

“I love you,” Finn mumbled, as Leo scooped up Logan, talking him back to their room. Finn right behind them. He laid Logan in the middle of the bed, who whined in his sleep until Leo embraced him again, laying on his left, while Finn laid against his right.

They stayed there for a bit, quietly so they didn’t wake Logan. Both Leo and Finn fiddled with Logan’s hair, dropping soft kisses there as well.

“Ohana…” Finn said absentmindedly. Leo looked up at him.

“Hmm?” He hummed, fighting the sleep that was trying was trying to pull him into unconsciousness.

“Ohana means family right?” Finn asked, his eyes were drowsy, he struggled to keep them open. “You guys are my Ohana.”

Leo chuckled fondly, reaching over to lace their fingers together.

“You’re mine too.”

@lumosinlove

#GG writes #O'Knutzy #Marie is an amazing human being #SW #c2c #lumosinlove

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muddyhippy · 3 years

Photo

A Tangled Problem

Adorable artwork by the ever-lovely @smolghostings

Updated on AO3 here

Lily padded into the common room still quite sleepy but with a single goal in mind. She’d got up out of Jonny’s bunk whilst he was still fast asleep, carefully extracting herself from his cuddling arm determined to get washed, dressed and make a nice breakfast for everyone.

She’d had another bad nightmare and Jonny had stayed up late with her telling stories and singing. He made her feel safe and cared for enough that the nightmares stopped being horrible and scary in her head for the rest of the night so she wanted to let him sleep and make a tasty breakfast. Her plan was going quite well when she washed and dressed but was too excited and distracted by recipe ideas when tackling her locks and then quickly got stuck, literally, when it came to brush her hair.

Lily’s hair was a thick mass of candyfloss-soft silvery tangles at the best of times but last night’s upset had obviously made it ten times worse.

Her brush got stuck and no matter what she did it wouldn’t come free.

It hurt when she tugged and pulled and struggled. Enough to make tears prick her eyes.

So she headed to find the one person who’d be probably best to help.

Without ceremony she headed directly to the person she wanted who was sat on the sofa where they usually were this time of a morning, making use of the quiet, completely absorbed in their music to the point they didn’t notice her approach until she climbed into their lap.

Tim physically startled to suddenly have a lapful of Lily appear between his chest and his guitar and stare intensely at him.

“Um hello Sweetness?” he began, thoroughly on the back foot.

“Tim! Help!” She pleaded by way of greeting, tears already spiking.

He tensed, fully poised to unquestioningly murder the shit out of whatever that had prompted this response.

She pointed.

Tim’s eyes alighted on her very tangled-in-hair brush caught up in her tresses. His eyes ran a quick diagnostic that helpfully returned the report ‘Ouch’.

“Oh.” He considered why she was showing him this and came up with nothing, “Um why—?”

“Because Jonny’s asleep,” She explained simply, “and you’ve got the prettiest hair, you tangle it all up in your goggles but it always ends up nice and untangled again so you’ve got to be good at hair-brushing.”

That, that was an impressive leap of logic he had to give her that.

“But Raphaella…?” He began weakly.

“She has really pretty hair too and it’s even longer than yours but it’s never tangled! Yours does so you’ve got more practice at fixing it. Please?” She sniffed, “I’ve tried and tried and it only hurts more.”

Tim took pity on her, that snarl up did look painful and it was obvious everything she’d tried had made it worse.

Plus, she was doing the look that Jonny warned him about, the whole ‘her-eyes-take-up-half-her-face-look’ that made his insides get twisty and him want to fix whatever the matter was every time she pulled it.

He suddenly understood why Jonny was willing to do as much stuff as he did. Lily was bloody hard to say no to when she looked like a particularly sad octokitten.

“Um, alright then.” He carefully put down his guitar to give the small, miserable child his full attention.

It really was a disaster. Tim considered his approach whilst ignoring the growing warmth in his chest at the idea that the little girl who’d joined them not that long ago apparently trusted him enough to ask for help with something personal that had left her vulnerable. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. Probably Bertie. Best not think about that then.

“Okay Sweetness, can you turn around for me so I can get to the brush please?”

She sniffed again, “Okay, thank you Tim,” she pressed a heartfelt kiss to his bearded cheek before turning around obviously utterly convinced that he’d got this and she trusted him implicitly that he’d make this better.

Fuck, he hated Jonny for not being awake.

Tim, not for the first time since Lily joined them, regretted being an only child with absolutely no sibling experience to deal with situations like this.

Ah fuck it, he’d do his best.

Using his enhanced vision, the patience he used when cleaning and repairing his weapons and the comb he kept in his coat pocket but would never admit to, he very carefully, painstakingly, detangled her hair.

After half an hour he managed to free the brush from her head then proceeded to comb all her locks clear so she would be tangle free for the next five minutes at least. Maybe he’d have to ask Ashes to show Lily how to plait properly since he’d seen Ashes wear some excellent styles over the years and their hair length was closer to Lily’s than Raph’s was.

He’d never bothered to learn, he liked having long hair, it was something that was his own rebellion after strictness at school and whilst he was completing his mechanical engineering apprenticeship. It was easy to tuck it up under a cap after all.

He’d tried not to show how heartbroken he’d been when he’d been conscripted and shorn short again. Bertie had known of course and told him he was still just as handsome. During the time in the tunnels his hair had grown out again since no one was really paying attention to uniform rules in the depths of the war.

He’d kept it long ever since. He wasn’t sure if it was out of defiance or as tribute to Bertie who’d never been able to keep his fingers out of it when they were alone together.

Tim mentally shook himself, now was definitely not the time to start down that track. That route led to months locked in the armoury, building non-stop. Or murdering Jonny repeatedly for being a dick (or just being present). Neither of which were viable responses right now.

“Right then, I think we’re done, turn around for me Lily.”

The little girl shuffled around on his lap to face him, she shook her head slightly, smile immediately blossoming across her face. “It feels so nice! Thank you!”

Little arms engulfed him in a grateful hug, enveloping him like the octokitten she masqueraded as half the time.

The master-at-arms was unspeakably relieved he’d not fucked this up, “You’re very welcome Sweetness, now, let’s show you how to brush your hair without it getting all tangled up. Sound good?”

“Yes please! Jonny helps me a lot but he doesn’t know as many tricks.”

“Jonny doesn’t have as much patience, he’s had longer hair a few times but mostly because he couldn’t be bothered to cut it.”

“Did he have hair as long as yours?”

“No. Just to his shoulders.”

“Oh.” She considered, “Mine’s already nearly that long.”

“I had noticed.” He couldn’t help grinning, as she tried assess the length of her hair first by tipping her head forwards to see, realising that wasn’t working then using her hand to feel the end of her lengths whilst trying to look out of the corner of her eyes. Her little tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth in solidarity and concentration.

“I want to grow mine more.”

“Oh yes?”

“Yes! So I can be as pretty as Raphaella and you!”

Tim felt both the blush and lump rise.

“That’s, that’s kind of you to say Sweetness, but you’re lovely just as you are. You don’t have to look like anyone else to be better in some way.”

Lily paused and thought about it.

“Well, I won’t be exactly like you and Raphaella,” she conceded, “my hair’s a different colour.”

He couldn’t argue with the statement, she was a lot lighter than even Raphaella, “That’s very true.”

“But I still want it long. I think it’ll be even nicer long.”

Tim couldn’t help but smiling at that very familiar conviction, “Then I best show you how to look after it then shouldn’t I?”

Lily beamed, lighting up the way she did whenever any of them took time to show her something. It was why they all, without exception, took time to demonstrate things to her. They might be immoral, immortal space pirates but none of them were above wanting to feel like a hero for teaching a kid to tie her shoe laces, flip pancakes or make belt holes. “Yes please!”

Which is why Brian walked in twenty minutes later looking for his fellow chef to find Lily and Tim in the middle of a hair brushing lesson, The child sat on the master-at-arms lap facing him, little tongue was back poking out in concentration, a long hank of Tim’s glossy tresses held reverentially in Lily’s tiny hand, her other carefully brushing it through as Tim talked her through the method of working in stages, his hands guiding hers, starting at the bottom and slowly working up to the roots.

Brian cleared his throat

Mechanised eyes zeroed in on the pilot, “This isn’t what it looks like—” Began Tim, colour rising dramatically in his face.

Brian raised an eyebrow.

“Tim’s teaching me to brush hair properly so my brush doesn’t get all tangled up in my hair again because that hurts!”

Tim sighed, utterly defeated.

“You know,” commented Brian, attempting to sound innocuous, “that looks exactly like what’s happening.”

Lily looked puzzled, “That’s because it is.”

“Quite right too,” Agreed the pilot, “looks like you’re doing a good job.” Brian took closer notice of their youngest crewmember, her usually wild mass of waves looked decidedly neat with that glossy sheen that only came with extensive grooming. “Did Tim do yours earlier?”

“Yes! He’s really good! I got my brush stuck in my hair and he got it out and brushed it really nicely! I asked him because he has really pretty hair and is good at getting tangles out of it after he wears his goggles. He’s really gentle and clever at it!”

Brian was amused to watch battle of emotions war over Tim’s face pride, pleasure, embarrassment and fury all crossed his face, clearly annoyed that this moment of softness with Lily was being witnessed.

Brian found he didn’t care all that much for Tim’s comfort, this was more important. Tim and Lily were bonding over something other than guns, completely unprompted. This was good progress. The fact that Tim was obviously trusted enough by Lily for her to ask his help and that he’d clearly given it freely said a lot about how comfortable they were becoming together which wasn’t bad for barely three weeks on board for Lily. Then again, last week her nightmare-stricken visit to Tim’s room that night she couldn’t find Jonny had probably cemented him as a ‘safe’ adult she could go to when the first mate wasn’t available.

Brian hoped the rest of them would become as easy to approach eventually.

It was nice to be reminded that deep under everything, he and his crew, at a push, could remember how to be kind.

“Right well, I’ll leave you to finish. Would you like me to start breakfast Lily?”

The child paused, looking conflicted.

“I am more than happy to.” Brian clarified.

Relief flooded her little face, “Oh um, yes please.”

“Did you have a plan?”

“Scrambled eggs and bacon and pancakes.” She recited her intended feast immediately. Jonny liked pancakes, said his mummy made them for him sometimes when she had the time and they were still his favourite if he had to choose.

Bacon had been a completely new food for Lily, but she loved how the saltiness of the slices complimented the sweetness of the pancakes, she wanted to learn how to make the syrup Ashes liked to go with it too. Eggs were very special because they were a treat on her ship, they had a few sealed cartons that they opened for very special events. On Aurora she could have eggs for every meal if she wanted AND they were fresh! In shells!

Brian had explained gently that eggs were more of a breakfast food and it was better to have them in one meal a day rather than more because she might get bored of them. (Also he was worried how much more omelette/poached eggs/boiled eggs/scrambled eggs/frittata/fried egg combinations the crew could endure with a smile and he really didn’t want to put off their newest member from the job she liked. Thankfully Lily took instruction and hints with equal grace).

“Sounds good to me!” Approved Tim, feeling that she shouldn’t feel all that bad about not cooking one meal.

Brian smile widened, pleased she was deciding to spend more time with Tim, “Me too, right then, I’ll get started, you can join me when you and Tim are done. See you later.” He left the scene as the two continued their lesson.

“Right then, reckon you can do the rest before Brian finishes?”

“Yeah!”

Tim arrived to breakfast on the table, Lily holding his hand, the two looking decidedly neater than normal.

As the others began to gently tease and pass the pancakes Brian looked over the group, his family, and couldn’t help but smile.

#the mechanisms #gunpowder tim #lily of many names #drumbot brian #the mechanisms fanfic #the mechanisms fanart #I've added a bit to this little fic #Happy New Year #Here's a hair brushing fic because I can

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justoneday-namjoonii · 4 years

Text

jk!mafia drabble #2 | it burns, doesn’t it?

⇁ [anon request]: Im a sucker for the petty angsttt, can you write more about JK & Jiyoon 👀 like, Y/N finds out more stuff about them. 👀👀 its all up to you, anything you write is a masterpiece💜

series: 18/? - It burns, doesn’t it? pairing: Jungkook x reader author’s note: this is a mess but enjoy! thank u for requesting, I got a little creative, I think my recent Taehyung obsession is showing 👀 lol warnings: idk what this is tbh lol, major manipulator themes, slut-shaming (idk kind of not sure if it qualifies but I thought I’d warn you anyway), speculated infidelity, might be triggering to some proceed with caution

You sit across from him at the diner booth, eyes are narrowed at the scrambled eggs greasy bacon. You don't want it.

"Eat a little," Jungkook takes a bite of his bacon, "it's not bad."

"I'm good," You shake your head, insistent on satisfying yourself with the small bowl of grapes. He glances out of the window, not wanting to upset you today, he wants to start the day off right. He offered to take you out of the house for breakfast and you were fine with it. Maybe you two can finally go back to hw things used to be, when the love was young and sweet on the tongue. It’s still sweet, but it’s grown far more complex than what was initially expected. These days, trust is something you have to remind yourself that you need in order to make this work. It’s tough, but you’re trying.

What Taehyung said keeps coming to your mind.

He is a lot of things, but he's not a liar.

***

You were in the garage trying to take the guns apart and put them back together. Jungkook showed you about five times before he left and made sure to take the bullets out so you could practice. You were laser-focused so you paid little attention to the person entering the garage.

"The slide is loose," The gun is lifted from your grasp swiftly, "and the barrel should be placed like this,"

Taehyung promptly puts your attempt to assemble the weapon to shame. When he places the gun on the table in front of you, it's apparent how much practice he's had doing this.

"If you tried to shoot that thing, it would blow your fucking face off."

You lower your head, shy hands picking up the firearm to dismantle it again.

"So, you convinced your daddy to let you play with his toys," He mocks, plundering through the drawers on the walls, "you're moving up, Y/n."

"Piss off," You grimace, resisting the urge to throw something at him, "it's not like that."

"It's just you and me here, everyone else went out for the night, but they should be back soon," He pulls up a chair to your little table and your stomach turns at the proximity.

"Then why are you here? Where's Hoseok?" You remain focused, taking the gun apart with calculated movements. "Why aren’t you with him..."

"I had to come back to get this," He shows you a box but not the contents inside, "didn't think you were still here, Jungkook said you were gonna go with him."

You stare down at the dismantled gun and then up at him. He recently changed his hair, it's out of his face and lighter, making his appearance less ominous than before. But you know better, his looks can't change who he is or what he's done to you. Yet, you sit across from him, choosing not to judge him for his sins. You've killed before, out of defense but you still did it. You don't deserve to be here but grace precedes you somehow—you're grateful.

"Somehow we keep getting the house to ourselves," He sighs, taking out his phone to tap on it mindlessly, "gives me time to get to know you."

"You already know enough about me," You turn the gun on the table, trying to put it back together with the last few steps, "I don't know much about you though."

"You want to?" He crooks a brow.

"Why not? Might as well," You shrug, it couldn't hurt to hear more about who he is. Maybe you'll better understand why he is the way he is, "for one, how did you get into torture?"

He sighs, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I like to think of it as hands-on interrogation. I'm fascinated by the mind, how it can be manipulated to work against itself. I think it’s interesting to break someone down, to hear what I want to hear. If I do it right, they end up forming an attachment to me- Well, not me but to the persona that I choose to subdue them with, like you."

"I'm not attached to you," You frown, "you're mistaking be me being traumatized for submission..."

"It's the same to me, I get the result I want either way."

You are about halfway through assembling the gun but Taehyung suddenly takes it again, stirring frustration in your chest. You try to grab it back but he holds it out of your reach, "Give it back!-"

"Ah, ah," He waits for you to sit back, "I know something that you don't know about Jungkook," He says that like a child, "do you want to know what it is?"

"What're you talking about?"

"He and Jiyoon had a little run-in when you were gone, that night he was going through it. You've probably never seen him like that but it is a sight, I'll tell you that."

* * *

He moves his foot against yours, a grin on his lips that speak pages of what he’s thinking.

"So, I wanted to talk to you, about something," You swallow, dropping the grape back in the bowl.

"About something," He repeats in a cute little mocking tone, "about what beautiful?"

"Did you ever, I don't know...Blackout when we were separated?" You know that sounded pretty vague but he knows what you mean.

"Blackout?" He tilts his head, mentally he rakes through the countless lonely nights. "I might have had too much to drink on some nights, maybe...Why?"

"Because that's the only reason you would touch Jiyoon again...You wouldn't actually do that if you were conscious. I heard you were seen with her..."

"Why are you talking about her?" He frowns, sitting back in the booth.

"Taehyung told me you were on a downward spiral one night and you didn't come back until the next morning, were you with her?..."

* * *

"You have to admit, you're not what anyone would have thought he'd end up with. Jiyoon literally sleeps around as apart-time job, she's good at it so I don't know how you could compete with that and win."

You feel like you're decreasing the more he talks.

"He may not act like it now, but he was crazy about her years ago. I mean, she's beautiful, she worked for his lifestyle and they had a mutual understanding. When you came around, they had broken up with each other about a year prior, he got over her fast though."

“I know that..." You knew Jiyoon and Jungkook had a lot of history, but you made peace with it and you know he loves you.

"I ran into her after that night, she said he acted like you two weren't together anymore. He let her have it like he used to," He looks up at you, waiting for you to look him in the eye but you seem to diminish in size while avoiding eye contact, "that's what she claims."

"What do you mean?" You press your lips in a flat line.

"You know what I mean," He jeers, swiping a tongue over his bottom lip. "unless you really are that innocent, which I don’t think you are."

"He wouldn’t do that..."

"Well, it would make sense," He stands to his feet suddenly, gun still in hand as he paces around the table, "what did you expect? You were fucking with Jimin, it’s what you get."

"It wasn't like that!” You surprise yourself when your hear your raised tone of voice, “Jimin is a friend, that’s it, I wo"

"Maybe you were mad at Jungkook, and you might have just subconsciously tried to replace him. If you would lay down with Jimin, well I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted a piece of the others, that would be interesting," He is just being mean now, he knows that would never happen, not even if you wanted it, "or even me. You seem to drop everything for men who can protect you,"

"Shut up, you’re disgusting...I don’t want any of you like that. And even if I did, that part of my life is none of your fucking business.” You hiss, fists clenched tightly. “I wouldn’t do something like that/”

“Of course you haven’t done anything too crazy, what would Jungkook think about? If he still wanted you, he would probably take you in front of anyone he wanted just to prove a point-”

You sling your hand across his face with enough force to leave it burning. His cheek is bright red and you’re fuming. You look him dead in the eyes, "Fuck you."

“Shit, Y/n,” He genuinely laughs, setting the gun on the table so he can hold his burning cheek. "Jungkook can go off and do whatever the hell he wants but you? You don't have that luxury, he leaves you here for me to play with, and this is how you treat me? isn’t that just sad?"

"Shut up!" You pick up the gun and before you know it you're throwing it and it misses his face by a centimetre. "I'm in a twisted situation and you make it a hundred times worse. You torment me knowing Jungkook cares about me, you want me to hate him. You want him to hate me. The same crap you tell me, you probably tell to him too."

He takes a moment to think over his response before walking up to you slowly. Instinctively, you take a step back and stand firm.

"Ask him." He dares. "Ask Jungkook if he remembers what happened that night."

"I don't have to, I trust him." You want to disappear. You don’t believe what’s coming out of his mouth or yours.

"Okay, just know that I don’t blame you for wanting any other man...You were both lonely, Jungkook had his fair share fun while you were away too."

He’s messing with your head, that’s all he’s ever done to you.

Right?

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incandescent-creativity · 4 years

Text

Malufemi Confession Scene

the angel and the demon are officially together!

~ MALUKA’S POV ~

“Kiss me.”

I recoil. “What?”

“Kiss me,” Olu repeats, as if it’s the most simple and expected thing in the world.

I don’t know what to say. I can’t say anything. How many times has this damned angel kept me up at night? How many times have I wished, have I wanted, only to remind myself that giving in will literally destroy their life as they know it?

One of their hands rests on the side of my face. “Please?”

I shut my eyes, and shake my head. God, I’m in too deep. “I can’t do this.”

I can’t. That’s it. I cannot kiss them while they don’t know what I am, while they don’t know how different I am.

“Why not?” Olu’s voice is soft, gentle, pleading. If I open my eyes, I know their expression will be heartbreakingly similar. I keep them squeezed shut.

“Just trust me, I can’t. You don’t know what it will do to you. There’s so much you don’t know.”

Their hand pulls away, and I open my eyes to track it. It curls up into a loose fist that rests on their chest. It’s a sad, thoughtful pose that I want nothing more than to solve by taking that hand up into my own.

“What don’t I know, Mal?” they ask quietly. “What don’t I know about you? You are kind, perceptive, fun, and confident. You care more deeply than anybody I know, despite not wanting anybody to know that you do.”

“Stop,” I whisper. Don’t make this harder than it already is, damn it.

“You are breathtakingly intelligent,” they continue.

This makes me laugh a couple of times, despite how close to tears I am. “I am not.”

“You are,” Olu insists. “You’ve thought and talked your way out of more situations than I probably know about. You know people, Mal, and that’s an intelligence I will never master. Plus, you can recite any Bible verse on command.”

That isn’t as impressive as they think. Most demons can—we study the shit out of that thing, in case it holds a key or a cure or something.

Olu must take my silence for some sort of argument. “I mean, if I asked for a verse on judgment, I bet you could deliver.”

They smile encouragingly at me, and I can’t deny that smile. “Second Peters, chapter two, verse four,” I give in. “For if God did not spare angels when they sinned, but sent them to hell, putting them in chains of darkness to be held for judgment.”

Probably not what they meant, but it’s the only way I can think to warn them.

“Hell isn’t a place,” Olufemi disagrees, a hint of playfulness to their voice.

That’s what they think. Hell is standing right here, a foot away from them, with enthusiastic and consistent consent to kiss them, and still not doing it because I’m so fucking in love with them. That’s hell.

“Besides,” they continue, “I was talking about the judgment of others.”

I sigh, looking down. “I know. Like, John 7:24. ‘Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment.’ Right?”

“Yes,” Olu says primly, as if I’ve proven their point. “Exactly.”

“But how do you know what judgment is right?” I ask desperately. “You can’t quantify that.”

“My judgment is right,” Olufemi says, their voice iron and absolutely confident. “I am enough to judge what I want,” they continue, “and you are what I want, Mal.”

A tear finally slips down my face, and I brush it away with an angry, “God, damn it.”

“Blasphemy,” Olu reminds me, their voice so full of love I want to puke.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter!” I yell. “Christ Himself can manifest in front of me if it bothers Him so much, and you know what? I still wouldn’t listen to Him, because I’m already a demon, so what else can He do to me? Huh?”

I’ve blown it, and so I cover my face with my hands and try not to sob.

~ NEW CHAPTER: OLUFEMI’S POV ~

“—I’m already a demon, so what else can He do to me? Huh?”

I see a brief moment of horrified realization, and then Mal covers her face and begins to break down.

I step forward and let her forehead dig into the center of my sternum. I wrap my arms around her and pull her in close, and I would use my wings to do the same if I felt like it wouldn’t be a terrible reminder of our differences.

“You know,” I say quietly, one hand resting on the back of her head, “that’s a very good point that I hadn’t considered before now. I suppose you may take a name in vain whenever you so please.”

After a brief pause, Mal’s head rises.

I take a step back out of respect; she has stayed away from me thus far. Plus, it helps me get a better look at her outright incredulous expression.

“I confess to you,” she says slowly, “that I am a demon… And you are focusing on the logic of my argument on blasphemy?”

I can’t stop the corners of my mouth from twitching up in a smile. “To be fair to you, it’s a good argument.”

“Are you on crack?” Mal explodes. “What is wrong with you?” they follow up quickly. “Who gives a flying fuck what I think about blasphemy, or clean language, or any of it!”

She swipes at her face again, though she doesn’t try to hide away from my gaze again. Instead, she is glaring directly into my eyes as she rants.

“You should be horrified!” she tells me. “You should be getting ready to defend yourself, you should be trying to kill me, you should be angry and betrayed and confused and upset! Why—why aren’t you upset?”

Her voice breaks from the combined strain of yelling and of emotion, and I am compelled to answer.

I step forward and take both her hands in mine. I see the minute movement of her body where she wants to flee by stepping back when I go forward, but my arms are long and my touch is firm.

Holding them tightly, I maintain eye contact and say, “Maluka, I am not upset because I have known.” Her eyebrows pull together. “I have known since the day we were together on the roof of that club, and I was healing your hands. These hands, that I hold now, that were bleeding all over me and my clothes.”

She glances away from me, not getting the point. “I’m… sorry I ruined your outfit?”

I laugh again, still quietly delighted by her. “Mal, angels don’t bleed.”

Her breath catches, and her eyes go wide into mine. Since I am still gripping her hands in mine, I can feel her knees go weak. Knowing she is unsteady, I help us sit down and wait for her to process.

“You… Are you talking about the day I fell on a bottle of rum?” she asks.

“I think I pushed you onto it,” I correct her, sheepish. “But yes, that day.”

After a brief pause, she leans back and explodes (in a less angry way), “Are you kidding me? That was so long ago!” Rocking forward, she is still staring into my eyes. “Olufemi! Seriously! You’ve known for this—the whole time, and you didn’t think to just… let me know?”

The relief is evident in her voice, which is lighter than it has been for our whole conversation. She is not condemning me in the slightest; instead, Mal is rejoicing.

I join her. “I thought it something that you should tell me in your own time, I don’t know.”

“Don’t ever do that again,” she instructs me, taking one of my hands and pressing it to her forehead as if needing support to collapse. “Do you hear me?” she asks, sitting back up again.

“I hear you,” I say, relatively solemnly. “As soon as I figure out your other grand secrets, I’ll tell you what they are right away.”

This makes her laugh, and she slides a hand down her face. “You better.”

We sit on the floor in silence, both of us simply breathing and decompressing in the light of our new understanding of each other. But I have not forgotten where we started, and when the time feels right—before the air between us curdles into awkwardness—I ask again.

“Maluka. Will you kiss me?”

She smiles, and I know her answer before she starts moving. When she does, it is first to scoot forward, and then to hook a leg on either side of my crossed ones. Her hands land on either side of my face, as mine so often do to hers, and then my demon pulls me in for a kiss.

Interested in more?

Check out the wip page or maybe the worldbuilding masterpost or maybe even the Comic Sans Presentation!

#my writing #my excerpt #lies in a holy tongue #inspo: liaht #ship: malufemi #character: maluka #character: olufemi

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