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rickmandowneyjr · 3 years

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Cuts to Cope

Angst, fluff Pairing: Severus Snape and Student!Reader (platonic) Warning: talk of self-harm, mentions of character's death Word Count: 2348 A/N: This is a little piece I wrote a while ago but didn't know if I should post or not. After re-doing certain bits, I decided to upload it. Hope it's not too difficult to read. As always, the ending is a little abrupt and not too detailed, leaving it sort of up to y'all as well :) Sorry if there are any typos (I only ever get the time to write when it's quite late nowadays)

Yet another day at Hogwarts - waking up at 6:30 am, showering, getting dressed in your robes, and heading to breakfast. Wishing everyone you passed a good morning, wearing your signature smile as you did.

You were a 7th year, one of the few returning ones after last year's incident with Cedric Diggory. He'd been your best friend, or at least that's what people thought. Cedric Diggory and you had been dating for the last 7 months before his death. You didn't want anyone knowing because being star students meant eyes prying into every aspect of your relationship.

People praised you, a model student and now, prefect, who set an example. An example of how to be strong and cope no matter what life threw at you. Little did they know, you harboured a little secret. A dark, horrifying, and disturbing secret that would never let anyone look at you the same way if they ever found out.

Your first class for the day was Potions. You were a brilliant student, especially at Potions, yet Snape still had something against you. You didn't take it personally, though; he wasn't really fond of anyone. You walked into class, taking your regular seat at the front. Snape walked into class a little while later, slamming the door behind him, commanding everyone's attention.

"Turn to page 420," he drawled. You opened the book to find the recipe for Amortentia. Your heart felt a tug at the name of the love potion, never having been able to find out the answers with Cedric.

Snape's deep voice brought your focus back to class as he said, "Since it takes a week to brew, I've already completed most of the process. All you need to do is the last day's work," making the class sigh with relief. "However," he continued, "The last day of brewing is crucial and not easy. So, I expect your attention to be fully on the task at hand."

You began brewing the potion, following the steps perfectly. Snape sat down to grade papers as the class worked. He looked at you and said, "Ms. [L/N], roll up your sleeves while you work. I'd hate for there to be mishaps in my class because of one student's carelessness."

You hesitated, but then did as asked. You weren't the best at wandless magic but had made sure to perfect this spell solely for such instances. As you rolled your sleeves, you subtly waved your hand over your forearms, mumbling, "Illusiont," and casting the disillusionment charm.

You saw Snape narrow his eyes at you and panicked for a second before you saw him shake his head and return to grading. Breathing a sigh of relief, you returned to the task at hand and continued brewing.

After a while, you'd finished, and were the first one to have done so. Snape walked over to your desk and took a whiff of the potion, raising an eyebrow before giving you a single nod of approval, letting you know that it was perfect. Once everyone was done, he walked around, starting at the back, and asked everyone to announce what they smelled. You hadn't smelled your Amortentia yet and hadn't planned on doing so either, feeling quite relieved when Snape hadn't asked that question earlier.

Your heart rate quickened as you began to worry about how your body and mind would react to smelling it. You couldn't do it last year, since the Triwizard tournament had led to a bunch of classes being cancelled. As you thought about how excited you had been at the prospect of sharing the experience with Cedric, Snape's voice pulled you back to your potions class.

"Ms. [L/N]."

"Yes, sir?"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "What. Do. You. Smell," he spoke, irritation evident in every word.

You swallowed hard as you leaned forward to inhale the scent. Your pupils dilated, your heartbeat quickened and your knees threatened to give out at the all-too-familiar fragrance. Your throat went dry as you stopped the tears from forming.

"Well? We haven't got all day, class is to be dismissed soon." He raised an eyebrow at you, asking you to hurry up since you were the last one.

With every ounce of energy, you calmed yourself and stopped your voice from wavering. "Old books, butterscotch and... vanilla," you sighed. Your breathing was erratic and you knew you needed to get out of class and get to the abandoned girls' washroom.

As if on cue, the bell rang, dismissing the class. Snape gave you an odd look and was about to ask you what was wrong but you had already gathered your belongings and were marching out the door. He decided to follow you since he'd never seen you act like that before and was wondering what had happened to you all of a sudden.

You made your way up the stairs, hurrying before you had a breakdown in the middle of the hallway. As you reached the washroom, you started rummaging through your bag since the hallway was empty. You took the small blade that you carried around out, pushing the door to the bathroom open.

Snape's POV

I followed her out of the classroom. Though not my favourite, [Y/N] was an incredible witch and this wasn't normal behaviour for her. She'd marched out before I had even dismissed class which concerned me even more, given her usually 'perfect' behaviour. She paced through the hallways and up the stairs so fast that I could've sworn she was moving around faster than I did on a normal basis. There was an urgency in her stride and I don't know why, but it concerned me.

She finally turned into the hallway leading to the girls' washroom on the third floor, which was odd. No one used this, as far as I was aware. I was a little embarrassed, considering I'd just followed a young girl to a washroom. In an isolated area, at that. I swear I never would've imagined myself going even further and following her in, but what I'd seen had shocked and concerned me enough to do just that.

End of Snape's POV

As you entered the bathroom, you had missed Snape, whose eyes were wide with shock. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. [Y/N] [L/N], the golden girl of Hogwarts, had just walked into an abandoned washroom after pulling out a blade from her bag. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, he rushed in, wanting to confirm what his eyes had just seen.

As you were about to enter a stall, the door to the bathroom, swung open, making you jump. You hid the blade by making a fist, unintentionally cutting into your palm. You winced at the unexpected pain but didn't let it show.

You turned to face Professor Snape, and he was eyeing your hand. 'There's no way he saw it, is there?' you thought.

"Ms. [L/N], care to show me your hands?"

You panicked. He knew. You tried to divert his attention. "Sir, this is the girls' washroom."

"I'm aware," he stated. "Now... Hands," he said as he glared at you, letting you know that he wouldn't fall for any attempts to change the subject.

You sighed and opened your hands, and saw his gaze soften. He walked to you taking your hand in his as he gently pulled the razor out. You winced as it came out, knowing this would impair you for the rest of your classes.

"What were you thinking?!" He scolded, startling you. He reached for your arm, rolling up your sleeves once again and muttered, "Finite."

The scars on your arms started showing up and you couldn't do anything but look away, your eyes resting anywhere but his gaze.

"So that was the Disillusionment Charm I heard you use, earlier."

You stayed silent, still refusing to meet his eyes. Of all the professors, it had to be him. Sure, he wasn't fond of you, but you had immense respect for the man, and to let him see you in this light... it took every bit of you to not lose your composure.

"Look at me," he said.

You turned to face him. His usually cold eyes showed too much concern and the uncharacteristic response from the potions master was proving to be a lot to handle. Tears stung your eyes as he stared at you.

"Why?" He asked, his voice so genuine that you couldn't help but let your emotions spill, creating a mess that you couldn't be bothered to care about anymore.

"I can't do this anymore," you sniffled. "I don't want to. He was everything to me and it just hurts so much."

"Who?"

"Cedric."

"Ah, yes. I'm aware you and Mr. Diggory were best friends. I'm sorry, [Y/N]."

"No," you said, finally being able to talk to someone about it. "He was my boyfriend. And... I never got to tell him I loved him... because I wasn't sure. Today just made it worse when I smelled him in my Amortentia. It confirmed that I did and I never got to say it." You were sobbing now, not caring what you looked like, what a mess you probably were, or what Snape was thinking of you and your confession.

You felt him awkwardly wrap his arms around you as he pulled your head to his chest. Your cries got louder and your wails of agony echoed in the empty washroom as your hands clutched the fabric of his robes. The feeling of someone comforting you was overwhelming. You'd always had to keep up this image of a perfect student, reliable friend, someone who could never have such horrifying tendencies.

Even then, as you cried out loud, your instinct made you bury your face in his chest, muffling the 'ugly' sobs. Snape's heart broke as your thoughts flooded his mind. As you struggled to breathe, he turned your head slightly, making you audible again. He didn't hush you; just stroked your hair as your tears soaked his robes.

It took a while, but you finally calmed down, your sobs reducing to soft whimpers before they died out entirely. Your throat was sore, and lips, chapped from all the crying. Your eyes were red and puffy, and the reality of the situation finally came crashing down on you.

Your secret was out. More than one, at that. One of the professors knew, and the strictest one too. You had just spent Merlin knows how long crying into his chest, which was now soaked with your tears.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your voice, hoarse. "Your robes are all wet now," you said, trying to move away.

"That's the least of my worries right now," he said, keeping your head in place as he continued, "I understand what you're going through. Better than you'd know." It sounded like it was painful for him to talk about it, the tone of his voice giving the vulnerability away. "But this is not the way to deal with it," he said as rubbed your back.

"Does it go away?"

"I'll be honest," he sighed. "It does get lesser with time if you allow yourself to heal. However, it never goes away entirely. A part of you will always love and miss him. I'm sorry," he said.

"No, I'm glad. I don't want to forget him. Or my love for him. Cedric Diggory was and will always be - my first love."

You finally pulled away from his chest and looked him in the eyes as he gave you a gentle smile. You managed to muster a somber one and sighed.

"Do any of your friends know?"

"Merlin, no!"

"Why not? They're your friends. They could-"

"I can't have this getting out. Everyone will-"

"Who cares what people think?" He raised his voice. It was silent for a while before he sighed and spoke again.

"[Y/N], I want you to promise me something."

You knew what was coming. You gulped and nodded softly.

"I want you to promise me that you'll stop this. Cedric wouldn't want this for you."

"I know, and I've tried before. It's not that simple-"

"I know," he said, cutting you off. "Which is why, the next time you get the urge to do this, you'll come to me. No matter what the situation might be."

You were surprised at his words. It was incredibly nice of him to offer this to you, and you nodded, accepting his generosity.

"Also," he continued, "Please stop going to such great lengths to please others and worrying about what others think. It's not healthy."

"But-"

"But nothing. Your health is suffering and you can't even bring yourself to tell anyone because you're so busy keeping up this little charade of 'everything is fine'."

You stayed silent. There was truth in his words and you couldn't refute his accusations. You just looked up at him, once again, finding the uncharacteristic concerned look meeting your gaze. Nodding softly, you agreed. How could you not when someone had shown you such consideration and compassion?

A small smile graced his usually stoic face as he helped you up, and you both made your way out of the bathroom. He escorted you back to your dormitories, ensuring you were alright before the two of you parted ways.

The rest of the school year passed and Snape stayed true to his word, and you to yours. Every time you felt the urge to hurt yourself to relieve the pain, you'd find Snape. He was patient and helped you every step of the way. Slowly, but surely, you were able to overcome your urges and also found yourself living for yourself, rather than up to others' expectations.

By the time you graduated, you had overcome the habit and thanked Snape in your graduation speech, never giving away the details as to why. A lot of people had assumed there was something between the two of you, especially since you went to meet him all through the school year, but you didn't let it bother you, because... Who cares what people think, right?

P.S. - Sorry I've been a little slow with the writing. My college assignments have started rolling in and I'm currently swamped. Also, I'm working on a little something (announcing it in 2-3 days so make sure to check in lol). Rest assured, I'm slowly and steadily making my way through requests. Thank you for understanding <3

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 302: As the Todoroki Turns

Previously on BnHA:

Today on BnHA: We have a very fun chapter in which (1) Shouto grows up lonely on account of his parents being worried that his siblings will literally try to kill him, (2) Natsu and Fuyu grow up neglected on account of not being special and/or self-destructive enough to attract attention, (3) we get to revisit all of that exciting spousal abuse from chapter 39, and (4) Touya burns to death right on cue, pretty much exactly like we expected it to happen. Thankfully since this is a shounen manga, Horikoshi finds some hope in all this misery as the Todoroki family rallies together, with Shouto getting his long-overdue credit for being a perfect sweet angel who put up with all of this shit for sixteen years and somehow came out of it strong and kind and empathetic and determined. Anyway, so that flashback was a barrel of laughs. But now that it’s over, we can put all of that angst behind us, and move on to... well I guess, probably, more angst. Look, we’re short on variety at the moment. Bear with it.

ouch. we knew this was coming, but still

A+ parenting move there. “ho boy, our eldest just tried to murder our youngest, now what? hmm how about we isolate our youngest from all human contact”

though in their defense, we probably shouldn’t have expected this rabidly strength-obsessed fire man and his wife who was groomed since childhood to obey her family’s whims to have any idea of how to raise stable, well-adjusted offspring

SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS

this is a perfect example of Enji’s tragically self-revolving viewpoint right here. just because being a hero is your entire world doesn’t mean you can just excuse yourself from anything outside of that and act like it’s out of your control. “alas, all I care about is hero stuff and my son can’t be a hero, we are doomed to inhabit two different worlds” no you jackass, it’s called having more than one hobby?? figuring out how to spend some time with your son that doesn’t involve training?? the same exact thing you were telling him to do last week, while ignoring that you’ve never done that yourself in your life??

that said, yet again we have that complexity though because it’s obvious that Enji at least on some level is aware of his own flaws, even though he seems unwilling or unable to confront them. honestly, from what we’ve seen so far, Enji’s obsession with surpassing All Might might be more accurately called an addiction. he literally can’t let go of it even though he’s fully aware of how it’s slowly destroying his life. and so in the same way that a lifelong smoker or alcoholic might tell their child to stay away from cigarettes and booze, Enji tells Touya not to follow down the same path as him, even though he himself doesn’t know how to leave that path. so yes, it’s hypocritical as fuck, but there’s also an element of helplessness there as well because Enji literally doesn’t know how not to be like this

though all the same he sure could stand to put in more than just a token effort. but it is what it is, and we already know how much he’ll come to regret it

and meanwhile Baby Shouto has frozen his sleep bubble with his quirk lmao. so I guess his quirk did come in early. that’s a recipe for chaos right there

once again Shouto is ruining every single dramatic panel in this flashback

this was so dark and intense... and then I spotted the lil bubs in the corner. Horikoshi please control yourself

“some hero you are, running away” and then all of a sudden, “FIVE YEARS LATER” lol what. OKAY THEN

(ETA: love the confirmation that eight-year-old Natsu comes from the Iida school of puberty and is basically a fully grown man, and meanwhile Touya comes from the hobbit school of puberty and has been perpetually eight for the past five years.)

“HEY BIG BRO WANNA COME RECREATE AN ICONIC FLASHBACK SCENE WITH US. WE’VE GOT THE SOCCER BALL RIGHT HERE, BUT HURRY UP OR WE’LL BE TOO LATE FOR SHOUTO TO WALK ON BY AND STOP TO LOOK”

lol and that’s literally the next three panels. but Horikoshi did add this extra bit after Endeavor starts to drag Shouto away

seriously Enji what the hell did you expect was going to happen here. “Touya went nuts and tried to kill his little brother out of jealousy, so let’s make it clearer than ever that Shouto is the important child and all the other children are just rejects. this will definitely not make the problem 100x worse, and will surely lead to Touya giving up and living a happy life, having been emotionally abandoned by the person he admired more than anyone.” good for you pal you figured it all out. no need for that plan b, “we all just go to therapy”

anyway so he’s telling Shouto he can’t play because he needs more endurance training. and meanwhile Touya’s patented Todoroki Drama Genes are going through puberty as well

definitely the face of a happy, emotionally stable child who’s not still plotting to murder his younger brother in his sleep

“WELL ACTUALLY MAKESTE” lol I stand corrected??

apparently during the five year interim Touya actually stopped blaming Shouto and realized Enji was the one at fault. good for him! a bit inconsistent, given what we know happens later, but I assume we’ll get to that in good time

anyway. “yeah man I agree that dad sucks, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m only eight and you’ve been monologuing for the past two hours bro”

LMAO

the manga is making my jokes for me, only better. fine then

looks like someone’s still miffed about that disagreement he had with his baby sister back when she was like four

“Fuyu doesn’t get properly riled up like I want her to so ranting to her is annoying.” okay but having been in Fuyu’s shoes, it really is just a different way of coping, and I can guarantee she’s not as fine with the whole situation as Touya might think. but making your peace with something is often a decision that’s made for emotional self-preservation reasons. and I sure as hell don’t fault her for trying to shut out a situation that she had no control over, and trying to make the best of it, and scrape together as normal a childhood as she could manage

and now in Touya’s defense as well, that is of course easier said than done, and I’m sure if there was a “push this button and instantly get over all of the trauma in your life” switch readily available for Touya then he would have pushed it too. unfortunately it’s not always that simple

so now Rei is pleading with Touya not to go train up on his little emo hill again, but it doesn’t seem like much has changed since he was eight

I don’t think he gives two figs about being a hero; he just wants his father to look at him again with pride. fucking hell, stop doing this to me you damn Todorokis

guh, they keep telling him the same thing over and over again

even if we hadn’t already known he was gonna go melt his jawbone off soon, I wouldn’t have expected a line like that to go over well

yep. fuck

that Todoroki puberty angst, though. nothing else quite like it

“you have a part in this too, Mom” ooooooh man

okay but look, he’s not entirely wrong. like, I’m not saying any of this is Rei’s fault at all! she’s in an impossible situation where she’s afraid to stand up to Enji (who by this point has shown that he’s willing to physically attack her if things get too heated, which is terrifying), and doesn’t really have anywhere to turn for support. her parents aren’t helping much if at all, and Japan in general is just a terrible country to be in when you’re in a domestic abuse situation. everyone’s expected to put on a brave face and deal with their problems all on their own in private. Rei is basically completely isolated at this point, and she doesn’t know what else to do, and so she’s just trying to keep the situation as stable as possible for the kids

but on the other hand, “for the kids” is also where that argument starts to break down a bit, because at this point Shouto is also being physically abused by his father, and the other kids are continuing to be neglected (emotionally if not physically), as they have been for years. so the situation really isn’t stable at all for them. and as a kid, what you end up learning in that type of situation is that you can’t rely on either parent. not the abusive one, certainly, but also not the other one who can’t protect you from any of it. even if they love you and they’re trying, they’re just as helpless as you. Rei is struggling to deal with all of this with one hand tied behind her back, and I get it, and I’m not blaming her at all. but all the same, particularly given that she’s (understandably) putting almost all her focus on Shouto, the end result is that the other kids have basically been left to fend for themselves

so yeah! a shitty situation all around. and one of those cases where it’s not really anyone’s fault (aside from Enji’s), but I can understand the resentment Touya is feeling all the same. and I’m so glad Horikoshi is acknowledging this, because it’s something I probably would have been too uncomfortable to bring up otherwise. as it is it’s still an incredibly heavy subject, and one that I probably have too many personal feelings about

anyway, so once again the whole “we’ll try talking to him and then just shrug our shoulders when it doesn’t work” parenting strategy doesn’t really pan out for the Todoroki fam

sob this boy is Anakin Skywalkering before our very eyes. all that’s missing is AFO to come and start whispering in his ear. any minute now...

“anyway so then he got taller and his fire changed from red to blue”

guess we’re getting pretty close then huh. this is the part of the flashback that I really don’t want to see, but also unfortunately the part that I’m most curious about :/

oh for fuck’s --

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IGNORING HIM FOR FIVE YEARS DIDN’T ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM” sob. back to the drawing board I guess

I thought he got taller, why is he still only like a third of Enji’s height here

oh fuck me these are armor-piercing feels. this is the heavy artillery right here

ENJI I’M BEGGING YOU PLEASE STOP AND THINK FOR ONE MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE BEFORE DOING SOMETHING YOU’LL REGRET FOR THE REST OF ALL TIME. your child just told you that he still thinks beating All Might is the only thing you care about, and that he believes his existence is a mistake unless he finds some way of doing that for you. please stop for a moment to contemplate that and choose your next words with care and grace and oh who the hell am I kidding

-- OR WE COULD JUST BLAME REI

go on and blame everyone but yourself then!! that’s a great solution!! jesus christ man I know this is Endeavor at his literal worst but still this is fucking hard to watch

POOR BABY SHOUTO IS YELLING AT HIS DAD NOT TO HIT HIS MOMMY THIS LITTLE BRAVE BOY NEEDS SO MANY HUGS OH MY GOD

AND MEANWHILE THE OTHERS ARE HUDDLED IN THE NEXT ROOM TRYING NOT TO CRY AH FUCK

(ETA: Fuyu covering Natsu’s ears cuts RIGHT TO THE CORE OF ME. Horikoshi if you’re really not gonna get these kids some therapy then at least consider giving your readers some. what is this.)

you know it’s bad when you’re starting to think the part where the kid burns to death might actually be a less traumatic thing to cut to right now

holy shit, actual Rei thoughts

“I was the one who ultimately made that choice” well there we go, wonder if that’ll put that whole argument to bed at last. I doubt it, but you never know. actually who am I kidding it’s not gonna settle jack shit lol

oh thank god, they decided it was getting too intense and cut away back to the present to narrate this next (final?) part

get ready to cue up that Alicia Keys. THIS BOY IS ON FIREEEEEEE

yeah I think that’s one thing we can mostly all agree on. neither of them had any clue what the fuck they were doing pretty much at any point. though I will say that the hypocrisy of him being all “WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HIM” followed by him IMMEDIATELY DOING THE EXACT SAME THING is a bit rich

(ETA: and he still has this problem, doesn’t he? he froze up when Ending snatched Natsuo, and again when Dabi was attacking Shouto. he’s so afraid of doing the wrong thing that he ends up not doing anything, which of course is exactly what led to Touya’s death. damn Enji I guess you’ve still got some additional character development to unlock.)

and of course neither of them could possibly have known how badly it was going to turn out. like, the consequences here were WAY disproportionate even for the shittiest of parenting. no one expects “I didn’t know how to talk to my son” to snowball into “my son burned to death and then somehow came back as a villain and murdered thirty people”

ohhhhhhhh fuck me

LITERALLY INCINERATED THE ENTIRE HILLSIDE. fuck. and I am so not ready for the scene of Enji finding the remains of his jawbone afterwards. at least we were spared anything super-graphic (for now at least)

I feel like the timeline here is off, btw?? wasn’t Touya’s death supposed to happen after Rei got hospitalized? this might be the first actual retcon of the entire flashback. although I think it makes more sense this way tbh

I do appreciate that ten years later Enji is finally reflecting on the fact that if he’d just given up his stupid obsession he could have stopped his family from crumbling apart. that probably sounds sarcastic as fuck, but it’s not. there are countless jerks out there who would have still managed to find a way to blame literally everyone and everything under the sun except for themselves. at least he finally figured out how to take responsibility, even if it came too late to stop his son from dying and being radicalized into a villain terrorist organization

and speaking of, it seems to me we’re missing a third and final part to this little tale of woe, and one which only Touya himself will be able to shed any light on. so we’ll see how that goes

oh man seeing the other kids blaming themselves even though none of it was their fault hits hard af. Rei wasn’t kidding when she said they’d been bearing that burden of guilt far longer than Enji

SHOUTO I SWEAR TO GOD IF THE NEXT PANEL IS YOU APOLOGIZING FOR BEING BORN, I WILL... WELL I’LL BE VERY SAD, I GUESS. SO DON’T DO IT

oh good he’s just being quiet. good. it absolutely is not your fault lil bean. it’s not theirs either, but feeling guilty about things that aren’t your fault is a time-honored shounen tradition

goddammit I braced myself for the angsty Shouto panel a page too early. gotta do it all over again now lol. okay here goes

;_;

well well well would you look at that

imagine that. talking things out with your child before they make a rash decision. looks like the Todorokis’ parenting skills are finally leveling up

OH MY GOD

holy shit. this is the most quintessential moment of father/son Todoroki bonding in the entire series. for me it even tops the “nice scar” scene lol. Enji sobbing at the fact that he still has a chance to set things right. and Shouto offering his hand in what is actually the most mature and selfless gesture I’ve ever seen, and being all “we’ll stop him together” to his dad who he hates, but also doesn’t really entirely hate anymore. and all of that is incredibly moving... BUT ALSO HE STILL REFUSES TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AND HE WOULD LIKE HIM TO STOP BEING SO FUCKING DRAMATIC ALREADY IF YOU DON’T MIND. “WHEN YOU’RE DONE CRYING...” fkjldsk

OH MY FUCKING LORD

(ETA: wouldn’t be a Todoroki drama fest if there wasn’t somebody listening in on the whole thing in secret just around the corner lmao.)

“you think we should have waited somewhere else?” “yeah, probably.” “are you feeling a lot of secondhand embarrassment too?” “god, you have no idea.” STFU HAWKS IT’S NOT EMBARASSING TO BE MOVED TO TEARS BY YOUR FAMILY ALL COMING TOGETHER IN YOUR DARKEST HOUR TO GIVE YOU HOPE THAT YOU PROBABLY DON’T DESERVE BUT ARE NONETHELESS INDESCRIBABLY GRATEFUL FOR

and anyway you chose these guys as your found family, bucko. too late to back out now. next time go get yourself adopted by the Iidas then

AND MEANWHILE NO WORD ON THE WHOLE “HOW DID A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SURVIVE A FIRE THAT COVERED HIS BODY WITH HORRIFIC SCARS AND MELTED HIS JAW OFF, AND HOW DID HE SOMEHOW THEN MANAGE TO GO INTO HIDING FOR TEN WHOLE YEARS, AND WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT INTERIM TO CHANGE HIS GOAL FROM ‘SURPASS ALL MIGHT TO IMPRESS MY DAD’ TO ‘KILL ALL HEROES TO MAKE MY DAD SUFFER’.” as if we don’t know the answer to that. but still, would it kill Horikoshi to just confirm AFO’s involvement in all of this already. at this point it’s basically just a formality

so here’s hoping next week we’ll either get that, or more Hawks action, or (DARE I EVEN SUGGEST, I’M AFRAID TO JINX IT) finally cut back to Bakugou and Deku and All Might omg. either way I’m hyped

#bnha 302 #todoroki touya #dabi #todoroki enji #endeavor #todoroki rei #todoroki shouto #todoroki natsuo #todoroki fuyumi #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #my sincerest apologies for this absurdly long recap which is barely funny at all!#THERE WAS VERY LITTLE HUMOROUS CONTENT IN THIS CHAPTER #congratulations horikoshi you win this round

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nocturnalwildflower · 3 years

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hurt; asher adams

summary: y/n finally opens up to asher about suffering from mental illnesses and self-harming

warning(s): SELF-HARM, depression, anxiety, cursing, mentions of parents dying, trauma, asher being cute af (not a warning but prepare yourselves hehe)

wc: 5.0k

A/N (PLEASE READ): I hope you all enjoy this and I lowkey got the idea from my own struggles with depression and anxiety, and I wanted to shine a light on self-harm although I haven’t experienced it personally. Please do not read this is self-harm or depression is a trigger for you as the whole basis of this one shot is self-harm and depression and the demons you face. Remember it’s okay to talk, and if you’re suffering, PLEASE get help. This one shot is an in-depth reality of depression that most people don’t know about and the aftermath of a depressive episode

masterlist ♡ prompt list

It was no secret to the Baker family that Y/N suffered with depression and severe anxiety because of her past. When Y/N’s parents passed away in a horrible car accident when she was only 6, Laura and Billy had no hesitation when it came to adopting her as one of their own as they were best friends with Y/N’s parents. It became apparent early on that Y/N suffered from depression and anxiety due to the trauma she had experienced, therefore the Bakers’ tried everything they could to make her feel safe, welcome and happy as well as sending her to therapy. The majority of the time, Y/N had a really good handle on things and went years without having a depressive breakdown, however, this year marked 10 years without her parents. The closer the day came, the more breakdowns she suffered, and Y/N couldn’t help but wonder why her parents had to die that day.

Not that she didn’t appreciate everything the Bakers’ have done for her, but she couldn’t help but wonder how much happier she would be if her parents didn’t die in that accident; how she wouldn’t be suffering and feeling like the only release was self-harming. She was too embarrassed to tell anyone how she was feeling, so she just resorted to self-harm as a way of releasing the pain, which seemed to be working. Her thoughts were interrupted when Billy knocked on her door and peaked her head in.

“Hey sweetie. No school again today?” he asked in a heavyhearted tone. Honestly, it broke his heart to see Y/N suffer with depression and begin her spiral into a depressive episode. He knew that there was only so much they could to for her, which included getting her a therapist whom she sees off and on depending on how bad her depressive breakdowns are. Y/N let out a sigh before responding.

“Next week, I promise!” she said in a somewhat cheery tone. Billy knew that this was just a ruse to get him to leave her room, however it did the opposite and he took a seat next to her on the bed.

“Sweetie, I think it’s time we put in a call to Dr. Morales and get you some appointments set up. We all love you so much and we hate seeing you suffer like this … please consider it,” he said, and Y/N’s eyes began to fill with tears. She knew that things were getting out of hand if he was suggesting therapy again, and she knew it meant she was going to have to face her demons yet again. Her lip began to quiver before she let out a cry, burying her head into his shoulder while he consoled her. She continued to sob, not knowing how to control her emotions and letting out as many tears as she could to get rid of the pain, even if it only a temporary form of release. Eventually, she had calmed herself down enough to speak to him.

“Billy, thank you so much for everything you and Laura have done for me over the past 10 years. I know this is hard to deal with, having a daughter with mental health issues, but I’m trying so hard to battle these demons like I have all the other times, it’s just too hard for me to do this alone …” Y/N said while wiping away her tears.

“You’re not alone Y/N. You have all of us here, and we will continue to support you until you are better. You know how much we love you and you know how much you’ve impacted our life, in a good way, but I think maybe it’s time to be honest with Asher about it … he’s going to find out eventually, and maybe if he knew what was happening, he could help you through this with us,” Billy said. He knew that having her boyfriend by her side through this battle would help her drastically; Y/N looked at him with a sorrow look in her eyes before responding.

“I-I know I need to tell him … I’m just not ready for him to see me this vulnerable yet. I promise, I’ll tell him when I’m ready,” she replied in a raspy voice. He smiled before giving her a kiss on the forehead and leaving her alone to be with her thoughts. No one knew she had been self-harming, so it was easy for them to leave her alone for the duration of the day; she hadn’t done it in a few days, and although there was a small voice inside her head that kept telling her to just pick up a blade and do it. She waited until she heard the front door close, signaling everyone was gone, before getting up and heading towards the bathroom. Y/N inhaled sharply before she opened the drawer where she kept her tools, staring at the blade for a few seconds, contemplating if this was the right thing to do and thinking about what Billy said to her. “We all love you so much and we hate seeing you suffer.” They loved her and they had given her so much, so why couldn’t she just let this go and stop? She inhaled sharply before picking up a blade, bringing it to her skin, and cutting, letting out a small whimper as the blood began to come out from her skin.

Back at school, Asher knew something was up with Y/N. The twins kept telling him that she was sick, but she had been dodging his calls and texts all week. He knew something was wrong because even if she was sick, there was no reason why she was avoiding his calls; usually all she wanted when she was sick was to cuddle with him and spend time with him. He decided to pull out his phone and text her one last time to see if maybe she was in the mood to talk about what was going on.

Hey baby, I know we’ve barely talked at all this week but I just wanted to say that you’re an amazing girlfriend and I can’t wait until you’re better so I can come see you!

He knew she more than likely wouldn’t respond, which wasn’t like her at all. To his surprise, his phone vibrated, and his face lit up when he saw that it was Y/N’s contact. The text was just a simple “You too,” but that was enough for him to have some concerns … she was always one to use emojis for almost everything and would usually get upset if he wasn’t using them enough.

“Okay guys, seriously what’s happening with Y/N? It’s almost like she’s fallen off the face of the earth, she’s hardly answering any texts, and she hasn’t been to school all week… I know she isn’t sick,” Asher said as he caught up to Jordan and Olivia after the final bell rang. Jordan let out a sigh, knowing that it wasn’t up to him and Olivia to tell him what was really happening with her however he knew they had to tell him something to get him off their backs.

“Asher, it’s just best that you talk to her yourself, it’s not up to Olivia and I to tell you what’s going on with her, it’s her choice on whether she wants you to know. I’m home by myself tonight, why don’t you come over and see her for yourself?” Jordan replied in a somewhat annoyed tone.

“Sounds good,” Asher said before getting into his car. He knew Jordan had a point, it wasn’t up to him and Olivia to tell him what was happening with his girlfriend. He hadn’t told her yet, but he was in love with her and cared about her more than anyone even realized. The boys on the team constantly made fun of him for how much he cared about her, but now he was beginning to think something else was going on with her. Was she cheating on him and couldn’t tell him? Did he come on too strong and force her into a relationship when she wasn’t ready? Did she want to break up and felt like couldn’t say anything to him about it? These thoughts kept flooding his mind from the time he walked in the door of his house until the time he left to go hang out with Jordan and get to the bottom of this behaviour.

Later on that evening, Y/N was sitting quietly watching her favourite show when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. She already knew it was Jordan because he was the only one home that night, so she closed her laptop and told him to come in. He peaked his head in before opening the door wider to reveal her boyfriend Asher, angering her.

“Jordan, I said I didn’t want any visitors. Asher included!” Y/N said angrily. Jordan just shrugged before mumbling a quick ‘sorry’ and turning around to exit her room, leaving Asher alone in her doorway. She rolled to face the opposite side of the room in order to avoid looking at him, hoping that he would get fed up with her and leave, however this act did the complete opposite.

“Y/N, you’ve been couped up in this room for over a week now … You’re dodging everyone’s calls and texts, skipping school, sulking away in your room and shutting us out. This isn’t like you at all, what is happening?” he asked in a soft, loving tone. Asher wanted her to open up about why she was feeling this way, even though he knew it was because the anniversary of her parents’ death was coming up. He had seen it before, she usually got sad for about a week but was okay otherwise, however this was different and something he had never seen before; he has never seen her shut her friends out and completely isolate herself from the rest of the world.

“Asher go away,” Y/N mumbled to her boyfriend as she sat up, staring at him with a somber look. Asher moved closer to her, eventually sitting on the end of her bed and staring into her gorgeous eyes. He could tell something was wrong with her; her hair was up in a bun that looked like it hadn’t been taken out in days, her eyes were puffy, the colour in her face was gone and she looked like she hadn’t eaten in days either. He hated seeing her suffer like this and knew he had to do something about it.

“Y/N, please tell me what’s happening. I want to be here for you, but I can’t unless you open up and tell me what’s wrong,” he responded, keeping his eyes on Y/N.

“It’s been 10 years Ash, 10 years since I last saw or spoke to my parents and I can’t even explain to you how much pain I’m in because of it. I’m so fucking embarrassed that it’s come to this, I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone about how I was feeling and tell anyone how bad my depression had gotten, so I found another way to cope with the pain …” Y/N replied in a somber tone. She inhaled sharply before lifting up her sleeve hesitantly and exposing her forearm. Realistically, this was not a conversation she was prepared to have with him; quite frankly she never wanted him to find out and she was hoping this would all blow over before she needed to tell him. Y/N tried her best to keep the tears from rolling for her face, but they slowly started to fall from her beautiful Y/E/C orbs. She felt like she was being weak, risking her relationship with Asher by being vulnerable and showing him how much she was struggling.

Asher kept his eyes fixed on Y/N’s forearm. There was a slight discolouration where she had cut her arm with a razor blade recently as well as some faded scars further up her arm. He felt completely infuriated with himself that he let his girlfriend go through this alone and that she felt like she couldn’t come to him for help. He knew something was up when she never wanted to spend the night with him, but he blew it off because he didn’t want to pressure her into anything she didn’t want to do. He began to ponder about why she never came to him for help, until he realized that he had been so focused on keeping his endurance up during the off season and focusing on the next football season that he completely neglected her. Asher took Y/N’s hand into his, interlacing their fingers while gently lifting her chin so their eyes met.

“Y/N I’m so sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me with this. I’m so angry that I let you go through this alone and made you believe that I wouldn’t support you. I want you to know that I’m still here, and I don’t plan on leaving. I’m here baby, you don’t need to hold on to this alone anymore because we’re going to get through this together. You have no idea how much better my life is because you’re in it, you have no reason to ever doubt this relationship and I’m not going to lose you because of your mental health,” he said, bringing his lips gently to her. More tears began rolling down her face as he continued to kiss her, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her closer to him. She gently pulled herself away from him before speaking up.

“Ash, you were so busy with training and I didn’t want to bother you with this because-” she began before Asher cut her off.

“Y/N enough. You and your mental health are much more important than anything right now, I’m here for you and we’re going to get through this because I love you so much it fucking hurts. Watching you spiral into a depressive episode is not something I want to see happen and I would do anything for you, you know damn well I’m not letting you go through this alone,” he replied with a smile. Y/N felt the butterflies in her stomach when she heard him say it. Those 3 little words. The words she thought she would never hear anyone tell her. I love you. She couldn’t believe that Asher Adams actually said that to someone like her when he just witnessed her in a state of depression. Y/N tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and looked at him with loving eyes.

“Y-you love me?” she asked in a quiet tone. Asher gave her a confused look and laughed.

“Who wouldn’t? Y/N, you are hands down one of the best people to be around and you always make sure everyone is always having a good time. You’re smart, kind, caring, beautiful … the list could go on all day. You have no idea how happy I was when you agreed to go out with me, and I’m so thankful for everything you’ve done to help me and how happy you’ve made me. Now it’s time to get you back to being as happy as you were when we first started dating. I’ll say it again, Y/N Y/L/N I fucking love you, despite the demons you are currently battling” he said in a soothing voice, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers again. Y/N gently placed her hand on his neck and pulled him closer so that he was laying on top of her. She had to admit that it felt good to finally have this burden off her shoulders and she felt so much better now that Asher knew the truth. He pulled away and looked her up and down before speaking.

“Why don’t you spend the night at my place? You’ve been couped up in this room for over a week and a change of scenery might be good, plus if you’re up for it we could talk about all of this. Like I said Y/N, we’re going to get through this together because I love you,” he said in a soft tone, caressing her cheek and leaning in for one more small kiss. Y/N looked at him with loving eyes and smiled before she responded.

“I love you too … please take me home with you, that’s all I want right now babe,” she whimpered out in a soft voice. Asher proceeded to pack her a bag with everything she needed to spend the night at his place and grabbed her hand, gently leading her down the stairs and into his car. She had to admit that even something as small as leaving her bed made her feel better to some degree, but she knew this was only one small step towards beating this illness.

As soon as they walked in the door, Asher sat her down and made them both something to eat, making sure her meal was full of food that made her feel happy, however the smile on her face quickly faded when the food was placed in front of her. Demon #1: having to eat your first meal after a depressive breakdown. Asher picked up on this behaviour rather quickly and placed his hand in hers, grabbing her attention.

“I know it’s going to be hard for you to eat after that depressive breakdown, but you haven’t eaten in days baby. You need food in your system, please just try,” he said in a heavyhearted tone, earning him a half-smile and a small nod from his girlfriend. Truth be told, she didn’t want to eat; she was too embarrassed about what had just happened and was so emotionally exhausted to think about anything, her mind kept drifting and she kept thinking about how much she wanted this moment to be over so she could sleep the pain away. Y/N finished about half the food her lovely boyfriend had made for her, however this was more than enough to satisfy him, he was just proud that she tried for him.

After they finished eating, Asher took it upon himself to de-tangled Y/N’s hair from the bun it had been in before leading her to the shower and helping her strip down, knowing that she was too emotionally exhausted to do it all herself. He joined her in the shower, helping her wash her hair and comb it out, in addition to making sure her body was clean. He always kept a bottle of her shampoo, conditioner and body wash as his house, just in case she ever needed it while staying there. He made sure he had a warm towel for her afterwards and helped her brush her teeth; he picked her up bridal style, bringing her into his bedroom and gently laying her on the bed, staring into her eyes that were still as beautiful as the first time he looked at them.

Y/N laid her head on Asher’s chest, eyes focused on the movie that was playing on the flat screen television in front of them. He was too busy admiring her, thinking about how much he loved her and how lucky he was to have a girl like her, despite what she was going through. Her breathing was stable and somehow, she seemed to look even more perfect than earlier; she was playing with the hem of Asher’s shirt and turned to face him, catching him staring at her. She gently pushed herself up, closing the gap between them and bringing their lips together when his hands found their way around her waist, positioning her body on top of him. Her hands found their way to his head, ruffling his hair up while he pulled her in tighter, moving his lips from her mouth to her neck while mumbling a quick ‘I love you’ and placing his hands on her bum, before she stopped him.

“Asher I can’t … I can’t have sex with you this just isn’t the right time,” Y/N said in a fearful but quiet voice. Demon #2: being intimate with him after he just saw you in a vulnerable state. She began to tremble and proceeded to let out a small cry, releasing the tears she was holding in and placing her head in the crook of his neck. He began to slowly rub her back and coo in her ear to calm her down.

“Woah Y/N, that’s not what I was doing my love. Of course I want to have sex with you and show you how much I love you, but right now if definitely not the time. You don’t owe me anything, especially not your virginity, I love you whether we have sex or not. Just come here, try to stay calm and breathe babe,” Asher cooed as he let Y/N sob into his neck. He continued to rub her back, knowing that the only way she was going to progress towards success was by letting her release all of her emotions appropriately and he continued to coo in her ear until she began to calm down. His shirt was absolutely drenched in her tears, however eventually, she had stopped crying, pulling away to look at her boyfriend before she took a deep breath and began to speak.

“I’m sorry Asher I-” she began before he cut her off.

“Y/N, no apologizing please. Are you okay? What do you need me to do right now to make you feel safe and comfortable?” he asked in a soft tone. She put all her focus into taking nice, big, deep breaths as he continued to rub her back until he was given any sort of direction from her.

“Just lay here with me and hold onto my tightly, don’t let go until I fall asleep,” Y/N responded in a calm tone. Asher happily positioned himself so that their bodies were in the perfect position, he wrapped his arms around her and held on tight as she sighed in relief, giving him the impression that this was perfect; they laid there peacefully and quietly until they both snoozed off.

The following morning, Y/N woke up alone in Asher’s bed, knowing he was downstairs making her breakfast; he knew she hasn’t been getting a lot of sleep due to her anxiety and knew she would appreciate catching up on her sleep. She sat up on his bed and stretched, rolling onto the other side of the bed to check her phone; as expected, she had a text from Laura telling her that Billy and Jordan had filled her in on what was going on and reminded her that she was so loved in their family. She smiled, knowing that she had a wonderful family that will help her through this and an even more amazing boyfriend what would be by her side through all of the struggles. She shot a quick text back to her mom thanking her, just as Asher came around the corner with 2 plates of breakfast, placing one in front of Y/N. She noticed that her plate had a tad less food on it than his, which didn’t cause her much anxiety given the fact that she didn’t finish all of her food the previous night. He sat next to her on the bed and watched in awe as his girlfriend was eating, free of any nervous expression and looking like she was actually enjoying the food. He stayed quiet and let her enjoy her meal in peace before he spoke up.

“So your dad called me … you know that this means you’re going to have to call your therapist and start seeing him on a regular basis again right?” Asher said as his girlfriend took a sharp breath in. Demon #3: speaking to a therapist for the first time and admitting what you had was a depressive breakdown. She knew that this was coming, she just didn’t realize it would be so soon; Asher picked up on her body language and gently kissed her cheek while moving her chin with his finger so that she was facing him.

“You know that I’m here baby, you don’t need to go through this alone. I promise I will be here for you to make sure you take that little pill every day … hell I’ll even drive you to all of your appointments if I have to. Whatever it will take to help you get through this,” he said in a soothing tone. Y/N had to admit that he was taking this much better than she thought he was going to, and she kept hoping that he was going to genuinely keep his word to her about being there through all of this.

“I’m going to call them on Monday and make the appointment,” she replied in a low voice, resulting in a grin being plastered on his face. Asher slowly closed the gap between the two of them, bringing his lips to hers and caressing her cheek with one hand, while the other snaked around her waist, pulling her in closer. He couldn’t help but fall in love with her even more each time she found a new demon to battle and knowing that with all the love and support she was receiving from her family she was more than capable of beating them.

“Y/N, if you ever feel like you don’t trust yourself to be alone please call me. I don’t care if it’s 3am on a school night, if you don’t feel safe being alone I will come and get you, or I’ll stay on the phone with you as long as you need to me. I’ve said it 100 times and I’ll say it again, I love you so much it hurts, and I don’t want anything to happen to you,” Asher replied giving her a kiss on the forehead and holding her close. It still absolutely broke his heart that she had been going through this for weeks without anyone knowing and she was still too scared to tell her own family that she self-harmed; but he made her a promise and he fully intended on keeping it.

Throughout the day, Y/N’s mood seemed to improved little by little, although it wasn’t exactly where Asher wanted it to be, he was still thankful that Y/N was trying her best. The couple had just decided to lounge around Asher’s place, listening to slow music and enjoying each other’s company while Y/N opened up to her boyfriend a little bit more about what had been going on with the depression. He was extremely proud of her for finally opening up to him about her situation and he was grateful that she trusted him enough to come to him so he could support her. The couple was currently dancing around his kitchen, being natural and goofy like they always were.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited JJ, Spencer and Jordan over to hang out with us for a little bit later on tonight … if you don’t want them coming I can tell them not to,” Asher mentioned while he and Y/N were cooking dinner. Demon #4: returning to socialization with your friends after you have a depressive breakdown. Although this made Y/N nervous, she knew that it was something that had to be done in order to get her back on the right track with her mental health; she nodded her head and pulled her boyfriend in for a loving kiss, when they head the doorbell ring.

“Speak of the devils,” Y/N joked with a smile. Asher reciprocated the smile as he went to the door to greet his 3 best friends. Obviously JJ pulled her in for a friendly hug and made some kind of joke about how he feels like he hasn’t seen her in a while, not knowing the real reason; mind you, Y/N wasn’t ready for anyone else except for her family and Asher to know what was happening. The boys had skipped along into the kitchen and sat down, however, Jordan stayed behind and had a proud look on his face.

“I’m glad this happened Y/N. I’m proud of you for being honest with Asher about what was going on and you know we’re all going to be here with you when you battle this disease again … no matter how many times your depression comes back, we’re here for you,” Jordan said in a small voice so no one else would hear their conversation. She gave her brother a hug, muttering a quick ‘thank you’ and letting a couple of tears fall from her eyes. She gave him a smile as she pulled away and quickly wiped away her tears, taking a deep breath, and joining the boys at the table outside.

As Y/N laughed at one of the lousy jokes JJ made, Asher couldn’t take his eyes off her and was genuinely happy to see her laughing and having a good time, even though he knew that this boost in energy and confidence wouldn’t last all that long; he was just happy that in that moment, she was truly enjoying herself. He knew that helping her battle her depression was going to be an uphill battle and he knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but he was planning on sticking to his word and staying by her side through this fight. He knew that his life wouldn’t be the same without her and all he wanted was for her to be better so they could move on to the next chapter of their lives together. All he wanted to do was help her beat this because he loved her, and he would do anything to prove to her that he was here to stay, no matter what it took.

#cw #the cw #all american #all american imagine #all american one shot #asher adams #asher adams imagine #the cw all american #asher adams one shot #asher adams x reader #asher x reader #jordan baker #jordan baker imagine #jordan baker one shot

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jjyusmile · 3 years

Text

enchanting | hwang inyeop

pairing: badboy!hwang inyeop x {gender-neutral} reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

warnings: suggestive nature, alcohol, an almost accident, fwb if that makes you uncomfortable!

word count: 5.1k

taglist: @katinthemoon

A/N: happy true beauty season finale day! I hope you enjoy this dedication to our favourite second lead <33 give inyeop lots of love on his socials because he deserves it!!

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you couldn’t help but think to yourself.

was it the way he walked? the way he held his head so high that his fluffy hair almost touched the clouds? was it the way he thought the world revolved around him? his cocky aura screaming ‘look at me! look at me!!’?

and yet, he was nothing like you had imagined. saying that second “yes” completely warped your world – how much longer can I stick to this friend with benefits thing?

the thought spurred a memory of how you first met. somehow… you ended up in his clutches. he was the boy who wandered the corridors, his disciples in toe, and nobody could touch him. except somehow… you did. well, kind of.

you remember it clear as day. it was a thursday night, your fluffy socks rested against the hard wood of your coffee table in front of you as you chatted on facetime to your parents. when your stomach grumbled, so loud that maeum, your fluffy chow-chow, lifted her head from against the armrest with curiosity as to wear the sound came from. such inquisitive eyebrows for a nonchalant pup that barely batted an eyelash unless you were filling her dinner bowl.

“even we heard that…” your dad’s smile filled the screen, a light teasing in his tone. you thought to yourself when the last time you ate was… it hadn’t been today.

“why don’t you head out and grab something good for yourself from the convenience store? I know you don’t cook for yourself, my baby.” your mother’s disapproving tone caused your eyes to roll -- miles away and she still nagged about the fact you ate nothing but instant noodles if you could be bothered.

“okay, ma. I’ll go do that. thank you for your concern.” short and snappy, your patience wore thin. probably because she was right and you were absolutely ready to devour some food.

a few air kisses later, and you were gliding the zipper up to just beneath your nose, the sherpa material insulating all heat it could as you brace yourself for the bitter cold. maeum’s tail wiggled excitedly in anticipation, her harness wrapped snuggly against her fur. “come on then,” you giggled at the way she span around energetically as you unlocked your front door. she practically knew the route to the convenience store by now… for a 6-month old chow, she was very intuitive.

out the door. down the hall. press the call button and wait for the elevator with patience. get into the elevator (you had to carry her if it was too busy but she didn’t mind too much). leave your apartment complex and turn left and keep going until the bright lights of the store appeared with a ‘fresh food prepared daily’ sign like a saving grace.

the owner didn’t mind of maeum came into the store, often bending down to give her treats and pets. maeum always leaned into anyone’s affection. it was her favourite time of day.

your airpods blasted your hype playlist, something you did when you needed self-reassurance. walking out of the store, maeum in toe, you rummaged through your bag of snacks, pulling out one of the many samgak kimbap you picked up. the crisp evening put you off sitting outside with a hot meal, plus maeum would attract too many people for your isolated personality to handle. the coo’s and aww’s often got worse as the night went on.

it wasn’t too long of a journey home, but something about the evening air caused you to walk slower and appreciate the serene surroundings. high school kids stumbling out of the noraebang that you often frequented in your days. being drunk on sugary snacks and endless cokes while you sang your little heart out. the snack in your hand tasted almost nostalgic as you remembered the nights you sat for hours outside the convenience store, hoping a kind stranger might sneak you a bottle or two of soju. those were the days you had friends to hang out with, but since you moved closer to seoul for university, they hadn’t bothered to keep in contact. you spent your days sitting alone in class, hoping your professor wouldn’t tell you to pair yourselves up. you were the only person that sighed in relief when they mentioned that they’d pre-assigned partners.

a low growl sounded over your music, with maeum halting in her tracks. it was only as maeum barked so loudly that you paid attention to what was happening. the bike headed straight for you. the rumble of its engine overwhelmed you as you realised you had stepped into the road without checking for oncoming traffic. yelping, you jumped back, pulling maeum abruptly, just quick enough for her to be missed. but it sent you flying onto your ass, a dull throb aching at the impact.

“are you okay?!” a shout from the direction of the motorbike filled your ears, the engine shutting off and footsteps getting closer.

“I’m fine,” you huffed, using your arms to twist your body with difficulty. your tailbone really throbbed as your face morphed into instant regret. you were turning to face the person clad in a helmet and biker jacket that hugged their body tightly in the frosty air.

“umm - I wasn’t talking to you.” you could just make out their eyes in the gap, slightly squinted in apprehension. when they turned their attention to maeum, you realised that look wasn’t for you. maeum, who sat sweetly with her tail wagging, front paws perched on their knees began to lick the helmet off them, only finding purchase in the gap that showed their mysterious eyes. traitor.

it was only when you heard the low chuckle that your attention turned back to the owner of the bike, heart stopping in its tracks for a small second. they reached out to ruffle the abundance of fur that framed maeum’s face, carefully checking for any scrabs or marks from the almost accident.

“hey there, friend! i’m sorry I almost hit you,” their tone emphasised the frown hidden by their helmet. it was only then did they reach up to lift the helmet off their head. and the breath you were about to let out hitched in your throat.

this mysterious biker wasn’t a stranger. he was the notorious bad boy that walked your universities halls, his minions in toe and never batted an eyelash to anyone who showed an interest in him. the one whose name you feared would be called out after yours in pairing for a class project. the one who probably didn’t even know you existed.

he was hwang in-yeop. and your bulging eyes that almost fell out of their sockets told him that you knew that already.

but, little did you know that the moment his leg flung off his bike to check you were okay, he realised who you were too. the one who sat at the front of the class with their pencil knocking in a continuous rhythm against the desk, a sound he realised rang inches louder in his mind compared to the rest of the class. he noticed the way your eyes glistened as you focused on what your professor was saying. he also figured out you never paid attention to anyone else, you sat alone with no intention to allow anyone into your bubble unless they were forced to. he actually hoped his name would be called out after yours.

his question of concern died in his throat when he saw it was you. those glistening eyes still sparkling despite the obvious annoyance in your expression. so he trailed off to pay attention to the adorable fluff beside him, luckily he adored dogs.

your embarrassment flushed in the apples of your cheeks, the heat almost melting the rim of your glasses that rested against the bridge of your nose. “maeum - come on, leave him alone.”

you lifted yourself up, trying not to show the pain. gathering your spilt snacks back into the bag, you stood up stretching your legs. but it difficult not to look at inyeop. his head was tilted slightly as he gazed up at you, this time the apprehension focused on you. was he concerned? he should be! he almost knocked you over!!

quickly, he stood himself, handing maeum’s fallen harness back to you.

“thanks,” you took it back quickly.

“you’re welcome.” his attention was still focused on maeum, who was jumped up at the bag in your hand hoping there was something inside for her.

the silence was excruciating. in the two years you’d known each other, this was the first time any contact had been made. and it was almost unbearable.

“uhhh- thanks again, sorry we almost got you into an accident,” you tried again, reaching into your bag to pick out a snack to give him as a peace offering. although he annoyed you, you realised you should’ve been looking where you were going - at least for maeum.

he took the can that laid flat on your palm slowly, afraid you were just teasing. but you let him take it without reluctance.

“do you- uhh…” he started.

“hmm?” your head raised sharply to turn your attention to him, the snacks in your bag long forgotten.

“do you… do I.. know you?” he tried again. if he was nervous, you could barely sense it. although he was stumbling over his words, his eyes were narrowed in scrutiny, analysing your every feature. he knew exactly where he knew you from, the flick of your pen ringing in the back of his mind. any excuse to keep you beside him longer.

“probably… you’re in my criminology class. although I doubt you’ve ever actually paid attention to anything in that class, let alone me.”

he scoffed, eyes rolling up into the heavens. you really were bold. “that’s quite the assumption.” a smirk so prominent it has sketched its way into your brain, all the way down to the subtle shading of the dimples that outlines the corners of his lips.

you ignored him, focusing on maeum for a moment as she sat beside your feet in a fluffy ball, eyes glittering expectantly at inyeop. you followed her gaze, landing specifically on the creases that lined his eyes as he analysed you. you huffed. “which way are you headed?”

he tilted his head to look over your shoulder at his bike sitting idly on the side of the road. “well, before I was interrupted I was on my way to a party.” and then his eyes met yours. “why? do you want to come?” his signature smirk appeared, the one you caught glimpses of every so often.

you hesitated, the thought of being anywhere remotely sociable filling you with dread. you became nervous in seconds “I- uhh. I was going to say I’d treat you to dinner because of the accident I almost caused…” you were shy, you admit. he couldn’t understand how someone who can barely look him in the eye could be so bold.

your offer caused his heart to do a single backflip; that was more of a reaction than any other, he couldn’t recall this kind of reaction from anyone else. to say the least, he was intrigued by the person who sat at the front of class. “do me a deal.”

“hmm? a deal?” shimmering eyes, etched into his mind.

“you treat me to dinner, and I’ll take you to the party.”

he was met with silence, searching your eyes as you lulled over the thought in your head. right now?

it was almost like he could read your mind. “we could make it a recurring thing… you can make up for me almost hurting not only you but this gorgeous ball of fluff” your heart leaped when he crouched down to rub between maeum’s ears with affection, even more so when he looked back up at you. “… and I’ll teach you how to be sociable.”

“oooh! kinda like a friends with benefits thing?!” you grinned, excited by the fact that you may not have to feel so alone anymore.

his grin widened at your exclaim, certain you weren’t sure exactly what you had just said… “sure… like friends with benefits… are you in?”

and that was how you ended up in the clutches of the notorious bad boy.

»»——————————-——————————————-««

those around you witnessed a flourishing friendship; you were attached at the hip. your five o’clock walks by the beach were met with his bubbly personality, maeum pleased with having someone else to chase the waves with. you finally had someone to sit beside in class, his signature smirk plastered on his face as the whispers of students wondered who on earth their designated bad boy was sat beside.

it got to the point that you remember the little things. he always ordered extra cheesey tteok because you always added extra onto your own. you packed extra heat packs when you knew he’d be joining you. he started turning up three minutes early because he knew that was how long it took you to get from your apartment to the lobby, where he’d be waiting for you with an extra coffee for you in hand. he knew to wear an extra sweater to the party because you always left without a jacket and would complain of the cold despite the countless shots you had consumed. you noticed that when his foot began to tap as the horrifically drunk girl in front of him continued to run her hand down his bicep, he wanted out, so you always stepped in to play the jealous ex.

as the little things continued to build up, your feelings flourished alongside them.

not that you ever did anything about them.

until one night it was clear that things weren’t as they used to be. inyeop had dragged you into an unoccupied room at the party, away from the sleaze who was hitting on you.

“what the fuck are you doing?!” you cursed, something you didn’t usually do. it must’ve been the alcohol that coursed through your veins, and the slight haze that the drunk guy’s breath washed over you.

“what am I doing?! what were you just doing out there?!” he grabbed your arm again, you swayed slightly, trying really hard to focus on his eyes.

you smiled at his tone, it was flittered with desperation. “why… what was I doing?”

he couldn’t fight off the annoyance that washed over him at the light smirk that graced your lips. you had been spending far too much time with him, his cockiness was starting to rub off on you.

“you were literally throwing yourself all over that guy!! everyone was watching you!!!” although he knew you weren’t stable on your feet, he shook your shoulders with emphasis.

and the moment you may have changed everything. his face was so close to yours that you could feel his exasperated breath against your cheekbones.

“were you watching?” you shot back.

his eyes widened so much his eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. “what…”

it came out as a whisper, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. his eyes began to glisten, the only hint of innocence he could ever show. you turned his world upside down more than he could have ever imagined.

“I was just having fun, yeop.” your taunting was over.

his head shook abruptly like he was trying to shake the thoughts from his mind. your finger reached up to tap the tip of his nose, the bright smile forming on your lips was impossible to not mirror.

he sighed drastically, a giggle escaping your throat. “can we just go back now… I’ll drop you home. I want to see maeum.”

and like that, you were being dragged out of the house quicker than your feet could keep up. along the way, he had slid his leather jacket over your shoulders as he always did. the walk home was silent as you matched your steps along the path. the low hum of the city began to sober you up, inyeop quietly singing to himself.

since that first party on the night he almost crashed into you, inyeop made it a habit to walk you back. at first, you thought it was because he parked his bike outside your apartment complex. you soon realised there was a caring side behind his bad boy facade that kept everyone else hooked. they clearly didn’t see the soft bean that was for your eyes only. he had become your best friend, and he cared about you just as much as you did him.

he sensed your aura change from beside him, head turning to see the smile light up your face. “what are you grinning about?” his own lips quirked in response to your happy expression.

“not much… just remembering the night you almost sent me and maeum flying.”

he halted abruptly. “hey! you admitted that night was entirely your fault!”

you held your hands up in mocking surrender, “okay! okay… I did admit that…”

he went silent for a moment. and then said something that shocked you; not because of ill intentions, but because you finally realised that that night didn’t just change your life.

“I don’t regret it.”

his eyes were genuine. and you returned the small smile he offered in silent appreciation for one another.

and then the heavens opened.

the mad dash to your apartment was filled with laughter and shrieks from you both. feet slapping against the puddles on the ground as you passed through the lobby doors. your hair clumped in damp strands over your eyes as you began to ring out your damp clothing. inyeop’s jacket became heavy on your shoulders.

“you can’t go home in that. come up for a minute while it settles and you can dry off a little.”

his eyebrows wiggled suggestively in response earning a shove from you.

maeum was overly excited to see inyeop. almost as if you were scotch mist. as he crouched down to give her affection, you headed for your cupboard, pulling out a couple of warm towels for you both to dry off.

you found inyeop lying on his back by the front door, shoes half off with maeum lying on top of his chest giving him her utmost attention. he was mumbling away to himself and giggling.

“what are you laughing about?” the towel landed on his face, earning a scowl from his raindrop stained face.

he then started laughing to himself again.

“what?!” you exclaimed.

“nothing!” he defended, the smile still evident on his lips. you waited, eyebrow raised in questioning.

“it's just… what you said down there got me thinking about something.” you waited again, the silence beckoning more of an explanation for his madness.

he shrugged his sweater off, pulling it from the scruff of the neck over his head. one small flutter.

he proceeded to rush the towel through his hair, biceps flexing in the process. two small flutters.

the whole time, his eyes never flickered from yours. it was the ultimate taunting staredown that caused the third flutter.

you broke the silence first. “thinking about what?”

he neatly folded the towel and placed it over the back of the chair to dry off, his hair sticking up in all sorts of directions. in two quick strides, he was stood in front of you, toes touching and fingers reaching for the dry towel you held tightly in your clutches.

quietly, he ran the towel through your hair, careful to focus on drying it completely so that you didn’t get a cold. from just below his chin, you had the perfect view of his features as his eyebrows etched in concentration. you were dying to know what exactly was going through his mind. you cleared your through in an attempt to drag him out of his thoughts.

“well. downstairs you said something that reminded me of something you said before.” you nodded, indicating for him to elaborate. “when we first met, the night you walked out into the road. you asked me if we could be friends with benefits.”

a deep pink flushed in your cheeks as your hands flew up to cover them. his eyes met yours as the embarrassment washed over you. gotcha.

“I did not say that?!” you tried but the bellow that came from inyeop proved just how much he was enjoying seeing his best friend squirm. he knew back then exactly what you meant, but the thought that anything more could ever come between you haunted him since that day.

“that was what… half a year ago now. you were so innocent back then.” his hands dropped from drying your hair, but not within brushing under your chin quickly in taunt.

you were annoyed. you knew inyeop enjoyed teasing you but surely this was too far. your thoughts drew back to early that night when he pulled you away from the guy you had flirted with because you saw him watching. when you teased him, it was the only time you’d ever seen him hesitate. and you enjoyed it.

“I’m not innocent anymore,” you taunted. eyes narrowed into your own, inyeop focused on read your thoughts as he tried not to react. but he couldn’t help it. for the last few months, you played with each other until you almost crossed the line. but the thought of crossing the line, even just once, left a dull burning in his stomach.

“is that right?” he retorted, eyebrow raised as his face seemingly inched closer to yours.

“mmhm.” it was all you could say. your nose filled with the cologne he was wearing, it was a mix of warming vanilla, swirls of cinnamon and just… him. “how enchanting,” you muttered lowly, he didn’t hear anything.

he was too focused on the way your eyes flickered between his, searching for some kind of each. you were in the same position, you always were. seeing which one of you broke first. but he also knew it would be him. so then came his next words.

“okay… prove it.”

a gasp escaped your throat, a mixture of shock and a sudden craving for touch. “what?” it came out as a whisper.

“prove you’re not innocent. maybe we can expand on that friends with benefits deal we made.” he wasn’t holding back. he had done for far too long, constantly tiptoeing on the tension that could light up this entire apartment building.

your fingers inched closer to him, both for support in your knees that were about to buckle, but also with the overwhelming desire to make contact. his white tshirt clung perfectly to his torso. one night couldn’t hurt.

“okay,” you agreed. but held your hand up to his face quickly to stop him from leaning in. “but! it’s a one time thing. you said you could teach me things so we’ll treat it as that.” excuse after excuse poured out of you before you could stop it, fear that your feelings would multiply the moment his lips met yours.

his lips quirked slightly as he nodded in agreement. but as soon as he got a taste, it was like something was yelling from within, a burning desire that laid idly for so long threatening to overflow. his fingers grappled at the curve of your jaw to keep him grounded. your own pulled at the hem of his shirt, a silent begging for the moment you had both thought about but never acted upon.

your body flushed against his, he barely let go to pull his shirt over his head with one hand, the other planted in a grip at your waist. your lips parted momentarily only to be chasing after one another the moment the white material met the floor. he guided you blindly, knowing your apartment by the back of his hand, your lips locked in a desperate embrace.

the moment your knees hit the end of the bed, you fell backwards hitting the comforter softly. inyeop stood over you, quietly taking in your appearance below him. his eyebrow quirked with his signature smirk making an appearance.

“you sure you just want this to be a one time thing?” his fingers traced up your thigh in taunt.

you groaned and pulled him down to you, “shut up.”

and the night went on, whispers of affection, lips tracing across the plains of each other's skin as he showed you how the gods lived, and you proved to him your innocence melted away at the flick of his fingers. you decided then that you were wrong. it couldn’t be a one time thing. because the moment his lips reached for your own, any unease washed away as you were met with the melting pools of his eyes.

this was something only the two of you shared. the subtle touches and flirtation from the previous months finally adding up.

the clock flashed in the darkness, indicating that you were approaching the fourth hour of the day. inyeop’s fingers traced down your sides subconsciously as he pressed delicate kisses into your shoulder. you had laid in silence for what felt like hours, basking in each other’s warmth and sudden bursts of giggles as you reached for each other. you were wrapped up in everything about him - his delicate touch, his intoxicating scent, his plush lips that barely left any part of your body untouched.

it was him that broke the silence, pulling you to turn into his embrace, noses brushing as your heads rested against the same pillow. “that was fun.”

you giggled against his lips, his bluntness causing flowers to bloom in your chest. “it was.”

he exhaled slowly, fingers coming up to push your bangs away from your eyes, fingers grazing over your eyebrows. he realised his fingers moved subconsciously to smooth out the frown lines that were usually there… but were far from it in these early hours of the night.

“what do you think… about all this.” he questioned, hoping you didn’t regret the last few hours.

“it was… interesting.” you giggled as the worry on his face faded at your response. “we could… uh- make it a thing.”

“a thing?” he wiggled his eyebrows for the second time that night, suggestively hinting to you.

“yes, a thing.”

“like.. our thing?” his the pads of his fingers wandered the high points of your cheeks until he met your lips, brushing over them nonchalantly.

“sure. our thing.”

he was mesmerised by how your lips moved under his touch, silently scolding himself for not being this bold sooner. you were merely adding another layer onto your friendship, no strings attached.

but his eyes focused solely on your lips, the way they curved when you smiled, only at him. “how enchanting.” he whispered.

and that was how your arrangement began. best friends outside of these four walls. best friends with a twist the moment you stepped in through the door.

you often found yourself making excuses to remain in your apartment. simply sitting together and reading was enough for you, subtle touches coming with time as you tried to focus on the page in front of you.

but, trying to get his attention once he was engrossed in a book was difficult. you never expected the so-called bad boy to be a softy for mysterious quests and fending off evil. then again, that was one of the raging stereotypes inyeop constantly diminished.

maeum rested her head against his shoulder as she laid across the top of the sofa, tiny beige fur tickling his neck as she stretched out but he didn’t mind. maybe if you gave attention to maeum he might get a little jealous?

your intense stare, that was supposed to be for her, was often warped by the way his eyebrow quirked at a funny line, or his jawline sharpening abruptly as he stretched his neck from sitting in the same spot all day. his fingers grazing your ankle didn’t help the situation at all. until he caught you staring.

he lifted his head that was previously buried in Legends of Condor Heroes, his hand falling to his lap as he turned to you. his head hit the back of the sofa when his gaze pooled into your own; they glistened, his eyes, something it took you a long time to notice. he’d tell you it happened the moment you said yes… but you’d argue that it was there all along, the walls he built up disguising it from the world.

“what are you looking at?” he quipped, eyebrow raised as a subtle smirk rested on his lips. the way the corners turned up right at the edges formed a fuzzy feeling right in the pit of your stomach. and that’s why he did it - inyeop lived for the reaction he got from you.

“nothing,” you turned your head back to your own book. legs sliding back to your chest as you wrapped your arms around them; your chin rested against your knees while you tried to focus on the words on the page. you had his attention now – bingo.

a sudden jolt almost knocked you off the plush cushions, inyeop had lifted your feet to drape them back over his lap “where they belonged”. the novel he was so concentrated on before was now placed neatly on the armrest, the dog-ear bookmark on the corner resembling maeum’s. a small smile washed over his features when he realised what you were doing, fingers reaching up to tuck your fallen strands behind your ears. you weren’t expecting it; he barely flinched when he pulled you closer. you could see why everyone at school constantly stared, he wasn’t on the weaker side. it was growing more difficult to fight off the rush of emotion that came over you and swelling in your chest each time his eyes crinkled, intensely gazing into your own; his bad boy persona was diminishing little by little before your very eyes.

this arrangement made subtle touches toward each other a very normal thing. you found it difficult to keep your hands to yourself, especially in public. moments as you were walking down the street, your fingers would gravitate toward his.

“hi.” the crinkles around his eyes becoming deeper as he smiled. “someone wants attention.”

“aren’t you supposed to be going on a date soon?” you quipped, remembering that he wasn’t just yours to share.

he hummed, finger coming to his chin exaggeratedly as he stared off to the side in pretend thought. he did, but he knew where he’d rather be.

in response, your book was flung across the room, but not before he delicately folded at the corner of the page you were on. his fingers gripped onto your waist as he inhaled slowly, eyes wandering over your features like it was the first time he ever saw you.

“fancy a quick one?” that signature smirk was hard to say no to.

»»——————————-——————————————-««

A/N: part 2? ;)

#hwang in yeop #inyeop #hwang inyeop fluff #hwang inyeop suggestive #hwang inyeop angst #han seo jun #han seojun #true beauty #true beauty seojun #second lead syndrome #hwang inyeop #hwang inyeop au #hwang inyeop fic

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

The Oncoming Storm Part 9: Shadows

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

So much has happened this night that it's kind of hilariously ridiculous at this point. AND YET we are just beginning. Was that kiss a tease? Maybe. Is this still slow burn? Absolutely. Will it be Fun and Complicated™? Yes. Thanks so much for reading! Next update is Thursday. Going to try to push for another double update this weekend! As always, open to suggestions and if I like them I will integrate them~ Hope you're all doing well.

Part 8 Part 10 Chapter Index

“I’m really okay, Liu.” Your voice was tired and shaky. Words were difficult after that. How were you supposed to reset and leave that moment so quickly? Liu Kang had managed, but you imagined it had to do with the fact that his hand was covered in your blood and worry and guilt had taken over.

He showed you his hand as if to prove a point and you adjusted against the wall. The hanfu was still tangled behind you, stuck halfway down your arms so you slipped it off the remainder of the way. Then you pulled up your shirt to show him the wound. It was bleeding through the gauze.

“…I don’t think this is proving the point that you want it to prove.”

“Fine.” You pulled the gauze away and the wound, while ugly, was mostly still closed. A few stitches had pulled and blood flowed freely but it definitely could have been worse. “See? Not that bad.”

“I feel like you aren’t taking this seriously, Y/N.” He showed you his hand again, scooting closer. His fingers, warm, brushed around the wound and you shivered. Your hands were still shaking, your heart was still racing. How were you supposed to relax after any of this? You’d had a vision for the first time in years and then Liu Kang had kissed you! Not just kissed you, he’d kissed you and you weren’t sure it would have stopped at that if you hadn’t been bleeding.

“I am. Look, we need to speak with Raiden. I… whatever it is that I saw, Liu, it’s important. If you think that he can decipher it then best to do it right now while it’s fresh, right?” You were afraid to tell him the truths of your childhood illness. This was all too familiar now and saying any of it out loud meant accepting it as reality. Like you would be willing it into the world with words. “I know my limits, Liu Kang. You have to trust me.”

“I do trust you, Y/N.” He reached to touch your cheek again but spotting the blood on his fingers he pulled back before turning his gaze. “You’ll tell me if you’re feeling sick, right?”

“Yes. I’m tougher than I look, I promise.”

“You’re so pale. And freezing.” He held his hand in front of you with the flame again and you winced at the overwhelming heat. In contrast to the cold you were feeling, it was blazing. He frowned.

“Please stop doing that. I’m not going to crumble. I’m not fragile, Liu.”

“Raiden. Then the infirmary.” Liu Kang stood up and offered you the hand that wasn’t on fire. The heat of the fire was killing you. It was too hot. Everything was overstimulating right now. Liu, the fire, the cold, your spinning head, your throbbing side. It was too much. You took his hand and got back to your feet. Your legs were shaking beneath you but you took a second to focus on your posture, on the weight of your body on your feet, and steadied yourself.

Liu Kang extinguished his fire and slipped his arm around you then urged your arm over his shoulder to support you. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you didn’t need him to do that. Besides, that kiss hadn’t ended the way either of you had wanted. Being close was a comfort until you could talk about it though talking about it seemed like this distant, scary thing already. You walked in silence for a time and you slowed your pace as you made it up a flight of stairs.

“Not too late to go to the infirmary.” Liu Kang was avoiding your eyes.

“We’re already almost there.” You stopped walking and pulled out of his arms to lean against the wall. This didn’t help Liu Kang’s worry. You were certain that what he’d seen happen to you had been traumatic. Then all that he’d done after that... That was a lot for you to consider, you were sure it was just as much, if not more, for him.

“I’m uncomfortable with this.” Liu slipped his arm around you again and urged you away from the wall before you were ready and you nearly collapsed into him. “Very uncomfortable.”

“I know you are, but please just humor me.”

“If you pass out, I’m taking you to the infirmary. Also you’re going to owe me an apology at this rate.”

“If I pass out then I will happily apologize, Liu Kang. I’ll tell you how right you are and make it up to you. I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that.” You caught a small smile on his face and were relieved for that. The tense air was exhausting. You made it up the last flight of stairs before the hall with the electrical sculptures and were met by a monk who hurried up to you and bowed.

“Lord Raiden requires isolation for the night. You must turn back.” He seemed nervous to approach you. Probably because of Liu Kang, you guessed. You were nobody. “What’s going on?” He looked between you and then at the state of you. You were both covered in ink and you were covered in blood.

“We must speak with Lord Raiden. It’s urgent. Whatever he’s doing can wait.” Liu bowed his head in spite of his assertion. The monk hesitated and then nodded before disappearing down the hall and out of sight. Liu Kang helped you to the end of the hall and you stood waiting. He didn’t need to hold you, but still he did and it took all of your self-control no to rest against him, not to bring up what happened. There were more important things, you told yourself.

Thankfully, the monk didn’t leave you waiting long. “Please, follow me.” He led you through the doorway that he’d come through and then bowed to you. “Wait here. He will be with you as soon as he can.” The monk bowed and then walked through the door that he’d led you through, leaving the door open and the two of you alone. Liu helped you into a chair near the back wall and then took the seat next to you.

You leaned your elbows on your knees and sighed. When you sat back up, Liu Kang was facing you. He brushed his fingers over your cheek and pushed your hair back. Then he checked your pulse and felt your forehead for a fever. The frustration he’d radiated with you for not going to the infirmary was gone. Only worry and curiosity remained.

“I’m okay, Liu,” you whispered reassuringly and grasped his hand, pulling it away from your face. He nodded but the look of concern didn’t fade. It wasn’t pity, but it was pretty close. Worry was becoming exhausting. You wanted him to trust you. He said he did, but it was hard to believe it when he was so concerned. It was traumatic, you reminded yourself. You needed to talk about it and there just wasn’t the time in that moment. “Really. I’m okay.”

“You’re still so cold.”

“But I’m also okay.” You snatched his hand back as he felt for your pulse again and offered him a tired smile. Despite your racing thoughts, you understood his worry. You just needed to talk. So much had happened. The door leading into the room from the back left opened and Lord Raiden walked in. His presence commanded your attention. You let go of Liu’s hand, feeling as though you were a child who had done something forbidden.

“What’s happened?” He folded his arms over his chest and approached the two of you. Liu Kang stood and bowed before Raiden. You heard the prayer beads shifting into his palm again.

“Lord Raiden, I’m sorry to interrupt you so early in the morning when you’re in isolation but Y/N has had a vision.” Liu didn’t lift his head as he spoke. “A vision of our future.” He went on to explain how he had found you in the fight pit and how your arcana had attacked him. You went pale. He hadn’t told you that! You’d attacked him? You hadn’t even asked him if he was okay. How selfish of you!

Raiden walked around Liu Kang who turned with him and stood before you, imposing and intimidating. “What did you see, Y/N?”

“I…” You hesitated with nerves. The vision really was jumbled up. When you were a kid, you’d struggled to relay what you’d seen to anyone and when you had managed, you’d gotten in trouble. This was no easy task. The times that you’d spoken with certainty had been during your fits and completely without your permission. It was as though there was something else inside of you doing the speaking in those moments. “It’s fuzzy. There was a man with long dark hair, armor, a cloak and his… his eyes went completely black and there was all this… smoke and shadow.” You caught Liu Kang’s gaze fixed on you and locked eyes with him. He had volumes hidden behind them. Raiden caught your shared gaze and you looked away.

“Could you go get some water, Liu Kang?”

“…of course.” Liu seemed as though he didn’t trust this was a real errand but did as he was asked, disappearing from the room. That left you alone with Raiden and he took Liu Kang’s seat and clasped his hands in front of him.

“Now, tell me.” He turned to face you and while his face was severe, he seemed oddly sympathetic. “Please.” That was the first time Raiden seemed like more than intimidating and you were grateful for that. The comparison to the harshness of your father faded from your mind.

“We were in the pit… well they were.” You went on to explain the details of what you had seen, at least what you could remember. You told him about the warriors who had been training with Liu Kang and Kung Lao, the ones you didn’t recognize. You told him about the pillar of smoke that the dark man had conjured and led his armies through. You told him about the visions of pain and fear.

“Who are these other warriors?”

“I don’t know but I can describe them… there was a woman, an American, I think. There was a man with a series of scars all along his face… They were fresh.” You traced the lines over the side of your face and closed your eyes to try and recollect the vision. “A man… with…” You winced and held your head in your hands, a sharp ringing rattling through your ears. You could picture the others, but there was a disconnected between your thoughts and your mouth as if the words were impossible to form. “They were in so much pain, Lord Raiden. I’ve never seen Liu’s…” Your voice cracked and you covered your mouth. The sorrow was overwhelming. Raiden placed a comforting hand on your back. “I don’t know who any of them were. I don’t know where I was. I’m…” You spoke quickly and frantically, the words pouring out of your mouth faster than you thought them. Where were you in those visions?

“It’s okay.” Raiden urged you to stop and so you did. You felt suddenly spent and weak, resting your arms down against your legs and hunching forward. “Breathe, Y/N.”

You did as you were asked and were grateful for the reminder. Liu returned with a pitcher of water and a cup. He crouched before you and set the glass and pitcher aside on the floor. Then he looked to Raiden as if to ask him what happened.

“How long has she been feeling this way?” Raiden stood.

“Feeling what way?” Liu took the seat next to you again and Raiden placed a hand upon your shoulder. His eyes went completely white and electricity rang through the air. Then he pulled his hand back in surprise, as though you had been the one to shock him.

“…darkness looms over you.” He tilted his head curiously. Your heart dropped. Raiden was haunting to watch. “Something dark from your youth.” He turned his back to them and walked away. “You cannot fight. This affliction will make you weak.”

“No.” You stood and while your legs wobbled, you fought to prove that you could. “I want to fight. I can fight. I’m fine.”

“As you are? It would only lead to your death.” Raiden turned to face you but seemed curious of your determination to defy him. You’d been told no almost your whole life and you had rejected it time and again. This would be no different. You would fight. Nothing would stop you.

“This shadow over you is one I cannot place. It will drain you. It has drained you. Made your blood thin. It is unnatural.”

“Lord Raiden, Y/N’s arcana is strong. It can fight for her if she cannot.” Liu bowed his head before Raiden but the look on his face made you turn away. Fear. You felt your stomach rattle with nerves. What if Raiden was right? What if you couldn’t fight? You would try but the fear you saw on Liu rattled you. What shadow was it that hung over you? Was he talking about your ability to see? Something that you had thought you’d lost in your youth. It had never felt particularly dark other than that it had made you terribly sick.

“I’m afraid that without understanding of this shadow then it might be impossible.”

“We’ll help her train with her arcana, Lord Raiden. We will make certain that no shadow will control her.” Liu Kang’s fear had faded and was replaced with determination, thank god. That was a huge relief.

“Oh? Then I will entrust you with this task, Liu Kang. You and Kung Lao. Make certain that you are careful.” Raiden looked back to you. “This affliction runs deeper than you think. If her arcana is beyond her control as you claimed tonight then it could cause you both great harm. And just as terribly, if this wound was worse than a scrape from Kung Lao’s hat then she might not be here at all.”

Devastation.

You slumped back into the chair and furrowed your brow, holding your head in your hands. You’d fought it and won once before. You would fight it again. You had to hold onto hope that whatever this shadow was, whatever this affliction was, it was temporary. You didn’t want to believe that this was the end of your journey as a warrior.

Liu’s familiar hand fell on your cheek, warm and comforting. You leaned into his touch.

“We’ll find a way. Don’t lose faith.” He assured you and you were thankful for his kind smile. Out of habit, you placed your hand over his. You felt Raiden’s eyes on you, observing you. Your cheeks flushed.

“One of the monks woke me and told me something happened.” Kung Lao walked through the doorway before you could comprehend that he’d joined you. Liu Kang pulled his hand back very quickly. “I stopped by the fight pit on the way over and it was covered in ink. I was worried.” Kung Lao walked toward you but Raiden stopped him and pulled him aside to fill him in on what he knew. You watched the guilt wash over him. He stole a glance at you then turned back to Raiden. His eyes kept flittering over to you. He was battling an internal war, blaming himself for the wound on your side.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You straightened your posture and collected yourself the best you could. There would be plenty of time to dwell on the difficulty of the situation later. Right now you had to pick yourself up and move forward. There was no point in feeling down. “This isn’t anyone’s fault. I’m going to be fine.”

“For now you will recover.” Raiden placed one hand behind his back and walked away from the trio. “When you are feeling better, then we will decipher your vision using my gift. That way we can try and understand the truth of what you’ve seen.”

“And the shadow?” You weren’t sure what that even meant. You wanted to know more.

“We will see what we can uncover.” Raiden assured you. “For now you will be taken to the infirmary.”

“I’m fine.” You didn’t get to argue with them. Honestly, it was almost like you weren’t there and had no say in what happened next.

“I’ll take her there.” Kung Lao lifted you out of the chair without asking for permission or waiting for a response, cradling you in his arms.

“I can walk. My legs work fine.” The further you were from your visions, the more normal you felt. You were certain you could make the journey.

“Just humor me, will you?”

“Fine, but I’m annoyed,” you whispered but even looking at Kung Lao made your face hot. Liu Kang had turned away from you but the memory of the kiss they’d shared in the hall was still in the forefront of your thoughts. Boy, that had made things instantly more complicated than they’d been only a few hours ago.

“I’m willing to deal with that.” Kung Lao bowed his head to Raiden and then carried you out of the room.

***

Liu Kang listened to the footsteps of Kung Lao carrying you back to the infirmary. He gripped the prayer beads around his hand and felt their round shape press hard into his flesh. “How bad is it, Lord Raiden?” Liu Kang was grateful not to be left alone with his questions.

“It is unnatural, this affliction.”

“You said that but I know for a fact that she is not the first to speak prophetically in your temple.”

“Not her visions, Liu Kang. The shadow that hangs over her because of them. There is more to it than meets the eye. Something else. Or someone else. A creation of another world, I would guess.” Raiden walked past him. “I can see into your heart, Liu Kang.”

“What do you mean something or someone? A creation from another world? Can it be fought?”

“I will try to uncover the truth.”

“Why would anyone create this? And why her when there are many others with such a gift?”

“Because of what she has seen, Liu Kang. She saw a warning. If she saw more warnings and could communicate them then they would be valuable weapons against our enemies. More valuable as one who foresees than a fighter. Think of what we could prevent.”

“I will protect her, Raiden. From any shadow.” Liu Kang placed his fist to his palm and bowed.

“Of course you will. She is in more trouble than any of us have yet realized.”

“If we can get control over her arcana, then she can be that much stronger.”

“Yes, Liu Kang. There’s a storm coming, unseen, this is but the calm.” Raiden hung his head. “Liu Kang, about…”

“I know. I know that it’s complicated.” He was deeply uncomfortable discussing this with Raiden. It wasn’t Raiden’s place but if he thought you were of value as a seer, then he could see why it would concern him. “I cannot explain it. There is a thread of fate between us. Some greater purpose.”

“All I was going to say, Liu Kang, was to be careful.” Raiden smiled knowingly.

Liu Kang bowed again and then left without another word.

#liu kang x reader #kung lao x reader #mortal kombat movie #mortal kombat 2021 #ludi lin #max huang #liu kang/reader #kung lao/reader #mk liu kang #mk kung lao #fanfic #fanfiction #slow burn #romance #fluff #love triangle #angst

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anxiouslyfred · 3 years

Text

The Stone Gaze

Summary: Virgil hates that he can temporarily turn people into stone and hopes that whatever the mirror superpower his soulmate has is able to counteract it.

He wasn’t quite expecting the energy and impulsiveness of Remus when they met in an Art Exhibition.

/\/\/\

Virgil hated his powers. He hated a lot of things really, but the power he had was the number one thing he hated and that barely even counted as self-hate or self-deprecation given a lot of the reasoning for it was how his powers impacted his life.

The only time he'd come close to thinking his 'superpower' (as society had deemed things not everybody could do) was when they were studying mythology and had covered Medusa. She had turned people to stone permanently as a gift to protect herself from those who would idolise or attack her. Before they learnt the ending that had seemed like a pretty cool thing to be able to do, but then she was killed as part of a heroes journey and Virgil realised how little people would think of his power should they learn about it. It was mythologically a villains power after all.

Hiding his powers wasn't enough to keep Virgil from the attention of bullies. They picked on him because he always wore his father hoodie after they lost him to illness. They'd call him names because he'd learnt to keep his hair, especially his fringe long enough to cover his eyes so nobody would get accidentally turned to stone. Eventually they'd even harass him to do their homework because his Dad pushed for good study habits.

Refusing to react to their insults or requests only reached the point they tried to beat him up once. When the leader of that group had shoved him against a wall his hair had fallen backwards, leaving a clear gaze directed to the bullies. As soon as the leader became stone the other kids had fled, crying for the teacher to come help.

Virgil's Dad had been called to the school to pick him up and explicitly direct everyone's attention to what had clearly been happening, given the position the boy had been frozen in while refusing to allow any punishment to be given to Virgil. Even once that was accepted by the teachers and school they tried to demand that he wore sunglasses or a visor to school for the safety of staff and children alike.

“I will not police the clothes my son wears because your staff cannot respect someone who doesn't meet their gaze directly. He has found that the long fringe is enough to counteract his powers and given the years he has attended this school without incident that should be perfectly suitable to carry on with.” His Dad has lectured the head teacher that day. He'd given more evidence that Virgil hadn't listened to, but the sentence stuck in his head. Once more his powers were up to him to control and prevent from being used and it felt like an even heavier weight to carry than he'd already found it.

The days of his schooling after that were lonely, isolated as he feared anyone he might befriend would try to meet his eyes. The only hope he had for getting through his life was that somewhere in their world was his soulmate; a person whose powers would mirror his own, and possibly, on the nights Virgil was willing to dream impossible things, counteract his gaze that turned people to stone.

/Over to Remus\

Roman had been the one to bring Remus into exhibiting his work. Honestly, Roman had been the twin to get them both into the art world in the first place. The charismatic, charming artist, whose painting were filled with energy most paintings couldn't capture and dreamt of finding his soulmate. When the art world had discovered he had a brother just as skilled in sculpting they were pulled around and paired together for exhibits constantly.

Remus had originally tried to explain the truth, that their works looked like they held more of life in them because that was what their powers did. Roman could bring paintings to life temporarily, and had often painted portraits of his friends and family so he could still talk to them while they were away. Remus in contrast brought sculptures to life when he touched them with a wish to talk. They'd always be in different positions than he'd awakened them from by the time the power wore off so he got praised for how realistic or believable his positions were.

None of that praise meant anything to Remus though. He sculpted things to feel less alone, to have people to talk to that wouldn't react in disgust or turn away when he said something a little more twisted than society was used to hearing. Each model he made had a mouth to talk and their own way to express their reactions so he could for a while feel accepted by someone other than his brother.

Today he had actually listened to Roman's claims that it's better for their exhibitions when the artist spends times at the display. Of course that didn't mean he was going to dress any differently that normal, just throwing on the torn skinny jeans and an off the shoulder top, with a jacket draped over his shoulders for when the air conditioning got too cold. Art Galleries always seemed to keep the space too cold, Remus swore on it.

“You can't be in here Mate.” An angry voice said, a hand accompanying it yanking him around to face a tall suited man, scowling down at him. “This is an art gallery and I don't care what the fuck you did to sneak in here you're gonna be-”

Remus had already started glancing for a nearby sculpture to reach for when the words cut off. The man whose voice had slowly been raising had now turned to stone, finger raised to point out the door.

“I'm the artist?” He blinked, properly turning now to try and find who else was in the gallery that might have done it.

A few metres directly behind where Remus was, there was a man looking like he would run any second, staring at the floor as though ashamed. “Sorry, I didn't mean to do that.” He mumbled, “The yelling startled me.”

“You're okay, dude. No harm, no wild birds around here.” Remus nodded, reaching back to poke the side of the angry man, focusing on him being alive and calm now.

“Apologies, I probably shouldn't have yelled, but seriously, homeless people aren't allowed in art galleries.” The man who had been yelling declared, having taken a deep breath as the stone released him.

Remus just raised an eyebrow at that. “Just because I haven't dressed all posh like you doesn't mean I'm homeless. And given I'm the one who sculpted most of the statues in this gallery, I believe your judgemental attitude can be taken elsewhere, or shoved up your ass since that seems to be where the rest of your personality is kept. Have your fun in hell, not in my gallery.” He spoke quickly, already directing the man away from the gallery, and nodding to the security guard that wandered between their exhibits.

He didn't delay any longer than that, caring more for the man who had turned him to stone than anything more that could be said. That had to be the complete opposite to his own powers, whether it had been a permanent transformation or just a temporary one, he wanted to know.

Luckily the man was still stood there, blinking at the spot where the angry fellow had been frozen. “He- he shouldn't... That never wears off that quickly.” He was mumbling to himself, not realising Remus had returned.

“Hey there modern day Medusa, you doing alright?” Remus tapped his shoulder, tilting his head when the acknowledgement was for the man to stare at his neck rather than look at him.

“F-fine. Sorry about that though. It really was an accident.”

“Why are you apologising for helping me calm the situation down before he did more than yell? I got him out of the stone and sent on his way. It's all hot stuff in heaven today.” Remus was genuinely confused over what was upsetting the man in front of him. Everything had been sorted out so surely they could move on to talking about soulmates already.

There was a quick glance up, to stare at his ear now, or maybe something over his shoulder. “You got him out of the stone? That wasn't my power just wearing off more quickly than normal?” There was a plea in his voice, as though scared of his own power.

“Yep, and while I can't really prove that here, given everything is already photographed and needs to remain the same to be sold, you can come see my works in progress. I'm Remus, by the way, Remus Windsor.” The offer was easy to give. No matter what people believed about needing to test contrasting powers in public to understand if they're completely opposites, he just wanted to calm this person down. Roman would understand that and hopefully leave to paint in the park or some sappy shit like that.

“Virgil and, yeah, please can we do that?” Virgil nodded, holding a shaking hand out towards him, while the other started pulling the hair that had fallen to his ears back in front of his eyes.

As Remus took his hand he was finally able to meet Virgil's gaze and grinned, tugging on it so they could run out of the gallery together, looking something between art thieves making their escape and teenagers causing mischief.

/To the art gallery\

“Princess, you better get your fat ass and any talking paintings the hell out of here. I've got my Medusa and we need to confirm this shit without an audience.” Remus barged through the doors still tugging Virgil along behind him.

Virgil was astounded by what had occurred in the last hour. He'd only visited the art gallery on a whim, curious over just how lifelike a sculptures positioning could be compared to what he'd seen when accidentally using his own power on people. He hadn't expected to almost add to the exhibition temporarily or to meet someone who could be his soulmate there as well.

Now he could only look around the studio that Remus had explained he shared with his brother. The walls were covered in paintings in various stages of completion. Some looked finished but missing the energy that the paintings back in the gallery had held, others were clearly completely done, but held back. A few canvases were merely sketches or only had their backgrounds coloured in.

Then there was the stone. There were throughout the entire studio several large boulders, some chipped into enough that a hand could be seen reaching out, or the nose of a dog. A few were just legs waving into the air, vague shapes for the rest of the body chipped away but the lips immaculately carved. There was even a potters wheel at the opposite end with a few vases and ceramic models left on a table beside it.

“Remus, seriously, you cannot just kick me out. I'm doing an oil painting.” There was a man identical to Remus stood in front of the only Easel in the gallery, now turned to them frowning with his brush poised to the canvas.

Virgil dithered for a moment before stepping forward. “Oil paints don't exactly dry quickly. You could spare a few minutes for us to figure our if we're soulmates couldn't you?” He muttered, for the first time in years looking up as someone turned to him. He wasn't going to deliberately use his powers without permission now, but having some evidence that Remus actually can reverse the medusa affect straight away would seriously take a weight from his mind.

The painter watched him for a moment before stepping closer, setting his brush down. “I'm Roman. Wouldn't it be more useful for you to prove this on a real person? Although I can understand the uses of turning Remus's sculptures back to stone at will. There's been a few incidents where they've been even worse than he can be.”

“Roman's volunteering to be tortured. Let's do it, see how long we can keep making him stone and real again in quick succession.” Remus stage whispered at him, cackling when Roman flipped him off.

Virgil just nodded, “Only once. I want to know if Remus actually can reverse this.” He cautioned, but turned his head enough to properly meet Roman's gaze, watching as grey stole over his body in a second.

Before Virgil could worry over how Remus would react to seeing that done deliberately, he was leaning forwards to shove his brother backwards, giggling along with the action. Roman was human again by the time he hit the floor, now scowling up at Remus.

“Okay, Rude. I offer to help my darling sibling confirm their soulmate is theirs and you shove me to the floor. I cannot work in such a hostile environment. I'm taking my leave of you, pray it won't be permanently.” He stood up, throwing the glare at them and leaving with all the dramatics of a pantomime dame.

Virgil had to snicker along with Remus as the door was slammed shut. Honestly, half of it was that he had to laugh or he might just burst into tears. In all his wildest dreams he hadn't thought his soulmate would be so excited to have his powers with them.

“Let's try on my figurines! I'm trying to make a dragon witch I can set lose to torment Roman when I'm heading out, and already have my Cthulhu baby, just waiting to be given life. Wanna see if you can turn them back to stone if I wake 'em up?” Remus was once again holding his hand and tugging him to the other end of the room as soon as he finished laughing.

“Before we do that, are you wanting a romantic soulmate, or a platonic one? I don't really care which we have but I'd be happier if we got to know each other first.” Virgil hesitated a moment, tugging back on his arm.

Remus waved off the question. “We'll cross that bridge when we reach it. If you want sex or not I'm making models I can sleep with anyway. They're funny to talk to if they realise how I made their bodies. Come on, meet my Cthulhu baby!” The whine was emphasised by bouncing and Virgil's arm being jumped up and down rapidly.

“Okay, okay, guess that explains why some are so twisted around as though trying to hide their bodies.” Virgil laughed, walking once more towards the table.

Virgil hated his superpower, and probably always would, but perhaps Remus can help him find a couple of things it's good to be medusa for.

#dukexiety #soulmate au #creativitwins #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders

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forbiddensoul562 · 3 years

Text

Contagion

I could have sworn I’d published this, but I found it in my draft folder this morning... So... I apologize that it hasn’t gone through a rigorous editing process, but I hope you enjoy anyway!

Two years ago I sat on a train in Taiwan, headed from Taipei to a small, remote place called (I think) Wufeng. As I sat there, I thought about a post-apocalyptic zombie Meronia fic I’d read somewhere on here. It was very good, but I had no luck tracking it down again, and I thought that was a damn shame.

So, I pulled out my notebook and wrote a test first chapter of my own version during the whole two hour train ride.

It’s not much, and might not have much substance to it. But I’d love to get anyone’s thoughts on it’s start.

Working Title: Contagion

The moment they appeared their existence made national news�� The world screeched to a halt, all attention on these things. Humans… turned diseased, feral, or perhaps something else entirely. No one knew for sure where they came from. It was as though one moment the world continued spinning like normal, and in the next… these things began flooding the streets. The initial confusion of news analysts and reporters slowly began to turn to fear. It took only an hour before the first bite was reported... The victim turned, becoming one of the diseased.

That was the moment public fear began to turn to panic, catching like wildfire.

As Near watched, from secluded inside his high tower, he was acutely aware that he was witnessing the turning point of human history.

By the second hour after the first report had hit the news, Near had decided that what he was witnessing was potentially the unravelling of human society. He was a detective… trained to solve the world’s mysteries. But this… There was no training for this, and even if he wanted to act, the pandemic was spreading far too fast.

By hour three Near found himself trying to name these things based on their condition – should he refer to them as the Sick, infected initially by some kind of widespread contagion? The news began to report them as simply ‘undead,’ and while Near understood that such a title effectively, and most simply communicated to the general populace what these things were doing, based on common knowledge from mass media, Near could only roll his eyes at how unoriginal and unfitting the term appeared to be.

At the tenth hour, local news agencies began going off the air as it was too dangerous to stay and try to report. It made sense, they had themselves and their own families to think about. It was in that moment that fear suddenly began to take the place of Near’s previously more pragmatic thoughts. A new, chilling terror of encroaching total isolation the outside world seeped into his bones.

It was then that he decided it best to make the one call of utmost importance in the dying world, before cell towers began to completely fall off the grid.

Rester handed Near the phone and the detective listened to the ringing tone as he pressed it to his ear, an unspoken panic brewing in his center and he couldn’t decide if it was premised in his worry for lines of communication, or something much more morbid. ‘Pick up,’ He mentally pleaded, desperately. ‘Come on, answer your phone…’ Of all the times to be ignored…

But then, as if by command, finally the other end of the phone ceased the repetitive tone, replaced instead with a simple, abrupt, “What?”

“Mello.” A heavy breath was released that Near hadn’t realized he was holding, momentary relief taking its place. “You’ve seen the news?”

[More beneath a ‘keep reading’, just in case Tumblr isn’t showing it...]

There was a brief pause from the other end, and Near felt his heartrate quicken in response. Time was just too precious for delays of any kind. Every second that crucial information wasn’t being conveyed was another second that Near felt his panic increase, worried that the call might drop and he might never get to say what he needed to.

“It’s starting to be chaos here, too.” Mello’s tone was somber, quieter as though speaking any louder would make the events all the more real.

“I see.” Near reached for a strand of hair, though the repetitive twirling sensation was proving to do little to calm his nerves, as it once had. This was just becoming too big of a catastrophe for his simple rituals to pacify his worry. “The world is ending, Mello.”

“Strangely dramatic of you.” The older successor muttered, but was quick to add, “You think I don’t know that?” There was an irritated edge to his tone, yet still Near couldn’t help cracking a small smile at Mello’s underhanded, and perhaps unconscious, implication that they both truly were not above dramatics. Though, perhaps he was reading too far into it, searching for a sliver of normality in a world that was quickly falling crumbling.

“No, of course you would already be aware.” After all, Mello was much more heavily involved in the world, or at least connected to it on a far more personal level than Near was. “No doubt the grid will be going down at some point. Maybe in a few minutes, maybe in a few hours, or days… So to that effect I wanted to contact you first over anyone else.” Near’s motions in his hair stopped, the white strand unravelling around his index finger. His vision and even his attention to the rest of the room seemed to blur as he focused entirely upon his connection to the only other person of importance Near had, in a world that was falling apart. “If things continue as they are, to the best of my ability I plan on attempting to create a safe zone within my tower. Right now it has the resources to survive here for at least a year, but I aim to build on those.”

When Mello said nothing in response, Near continued, rambling still, but this time more to the point, “What is happening right now is far greater than you or I, Mello, and on our own I do not think we will make it long. You lack the resources and I lack the physicality. But together, we-”

“Near, don’t, I’m not-”

“Mello, please.” He could hear the pleading in his words, “Just listen to me a moment.”

This time, the blonde remained quiet on the other end.

“If you can make it from your present location in California to here in New York… I would greatly benefit from whatever you have to offer to survival efforts. Neither of us will make it if we’re split up. This is not like anything else we have ever dealt with, and because of that I don’t think it makes sense to hold onto lingering animosity. Think of your survival.”

Near shook his head. Logic wouldn’t work with Mello… So he added quieter, “I need your help, Mello.”

There was a long silence between them, then, the words and residual antipathy culminating between them into that one moment of silence which seemed to hold all the necessary potential to be both of their ruin, not to mention all the others Near had every intention of trying to help. Everything hinged on this single moment… of being able to put aside disputes, and endless history for a greater good. It had never worked before. Yet this time, Near held his breath.

Finally, “I’ll do what I can.” The words were vague, but of course both successors understood the weight and challenge associated with attempting to travel from one side of the country to the direct opposite in the current collapsing state of things. But if Mello was as willing and able as his words alluded to, then Near was willing to hold his breath a little while longer.

Near nodded, “I look forward to your arrival, then.”

The detective was ready to end the call while he had Mello’s agreement and thus his own sense of hope, but of course Mello broke in before he could, “Yeah, you say that, but you’re not the one having to go out and deal with this shit. It’s a risk, Near. At this rate, who knows what the country will do in response...”

Near could read between the lines: Mello thought he might not make it.

But Near had to stay positive, even if he was feigning it for both of them, now. The thought of being alone to go going through what was shaping up to be the apocalypse was troublesome at best, and truly terrifying at worst. “Getting into and climbing the ranks of the Mafia was a risk, too.”

There was a short, curt chuckle from the other end of the line. “Yeah, well… we’ll see. I’ll try.” The younger successor didn’t like the tone latent in his voice. He didn’t like hearing Mello be anything other than his loud, over-the-top self that exuded confidence. But then, nothing was good about this situation or provided any reason for the blonde to hold onto his normal demeanor… Still, it was jarring and was almost worse than seeing the reports on the news.

But Near forced himself to nod, “Right, I’ll see you soon, then.”

Yet another pause on the other end, followed by a simple, “Yeah.”

In that moment Near found himself reluctant to cut their connection. There were so many things he wanted to say to the blonde successor… just in case this was their last time ever speaking. Years of harbored words flooded his mouth like bile, yet burning his throat with the knowledge that no matter how much he wanted to let it all spill out, Mello wouldn’t stand such talk. Not now. Maybe not ever. Though, perhaps it was better this way. He didn’t want to say anything that might prove a distraction to Mello’s journey across the country to get to him.

So he instead swallowed it all back down, promising himself that he would make time to pour out all of these words to Mello when the older successor made it to him.

He could only bring himself to whisper, “Good luck. Be safe. Please.” It was the closest thing to a prayer Near thought he could ever formulate.

“You too, Near.” Mello said much quieter. “Don’t... let anything happen before I can make it there, alright?”

“I won’t.” He shook his head. “I’ll be here waiting.” With that, he pulled the phone away and hung up.

#fsfics #Death Note #Meronia #MelloxNear #MelloNear

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shaolin-spin-doctor · 3 years

Text

Midnight Terrors

Kung Jin is awoken by someone sneaking past his bedroom. Fearing an enemy attack, he gives chase, but finds out the intruder's identity and motives are completely unexpected.

Kung Jin jolted awake upon hearing the sounds of hurried footsteps outside his room.

They weren't loud at all - in fact, if the Shaolin monk wasn't so well-seasoned by the numerous sneak attacks he and his fellow Special Forces teammates had been subjected to in their visits to Outworld, he might've just missed them entirely. Whoever was out there knew how to move quietly, regardless of the evident panic in their uneven stride.

Someone with such skill sneaking around the temple in the middle of the night couldn't possibly mean anything good.

Kung Jin sprung out of bed, snatching his staff and wasting no time in darting out of the room. He was relatively unprotected, sporting only the plain tank top and shorts he usually slept in, but he couldn't afford to slow down and let the intruder escape; whoever was out there was fast, and there was no telling of what they might do if left unchecked... That is, if they hadn't already finished whatever job they were sent to do.

Shaking his head in an attempt to clear the dark thoughts forming in his mind, the Shaolin warrior continued to run through the moonlit corridor, the feeling of the cold marble tiles beneath his feet dispelling whatever traces of sleepiness still lingered within him. He could hear muted noises right ahead - they resembled voices, but they sounded distorted and out of sync; they had an almost sinister, yet desperate feel to them, and Jin had the disturbing feeling they were somehow familiar.

Slowing down as to avoid detection, the monk tracked the strange sounds to a huge, slightly open wooden door on one side of the hallway. He recognized it as one of the many meditation rooms in the temple - he himself visited it quite often, being the one closest to his own room and in relative isolation from everyone else in the temple. It was the perfect place to lock yourself in if you didn't want to be seen... or caught. Tightening his hold on his staff and channeling his energy until he felt the familiar heat of fire forming inside the metal dragon's maw, Kung Jin drew a deep breath before pushing the door open and stepping inside, ready to confront whoever - or whatever - was on the other side.

What he saw caught him completely off guard, and whatever hostility he had felt died down in a split second.

A man was down on his knees in the middle of the room, pose askew as if he had carelessly - or perhaps, despairingly - thrown himself into the floor; his long, graying hair was a mess, free from the braid it was usually styled in, and his frame shook everytime he attempted to breathe, making it apparent he was struggling to do so. His warped, echoing voice recited a choked prayer, the ominous sound doing little to mask the sheer fright dripping from every word, and the faint glow cast by the pulsating yellow veins stretching throughout his ashen skin revealed trails of blood leaking from nail-shaped wounds in his arms. Kung Jin let out a light, anxious gasp, lowering his staff and staring at the figure in front of him.

"Lao?" He asked softly, failing to stop his voice from trembling at the end. The revenant flinched at the mention of his name and curled further into himself, his voice growing more desperate and desynchronized as he struggled to continue his plea - a chant used to purify one's spirit, Jin noted. The young Shaolin moved to his uncle's side, kneeling next to him to try and get his attention. "Easy there, old man," he murmured, moving his hands in a placating gesture, "It's me, Jin. It's okay."

Kung Lao turned to face the other warrior, blazing eyes wild with dread despite his nephew's reassurance. Whatever words he was trying to say died in his cracked lips as he frantically gasped for air, and Jin, recognizing the older man's struggle, placed a firm hand in his back in an attempt to ground him.

"Breathe with me," Kung Jin instructed, inhaling slowly and exaggerating his motions so they'd be easier to follow. It took a few attempts, but Lao understood soon enough and began following his rhythm, eventually managing to calm down enough to shoot him a grateful look. Jin nodded.

"You did great," he said with a soft smile.

Kung Lao shook his head, looking away. "I'm sorry. I... lost it," he whispered, bitterness lacing his words. The younger Shaolin frowned.

"What are you talking about?" He inquired. Lao drew in a sharp breath, refusing to look back at his nephew.

"I had a nightmare." The revenant stopped for a moment, running a hand down his face. Jin noticed traces of dry blood trickling down his blackened nails and into his palm. "I was beating your team up, really badly. I tried to stop myself, but the more I struggled, the worse it got, and then I..." he shut his eyes tightly. "I killed you, one by one. Cassandra, Jacqueline, Takeda... And you. I ended your lives with my bare hands, and I was laughing, and it felt so real, and I... I panicked. By the elder gods, I was terrified. I thought... I thought I had actually hurt someone."

For a moment, Lao looked down at his hands, studying the dried trails of crimson running down his fingers. He then huffed, his face twisting into a disgusted snarl.

"That doesn't change anything, though. I did hurt people - committed unthinkable atrocities. It doesn't matter how hard I try to hide it..." He drew in a shaky breath and clenched his fists tightly, long nails digging into his skin with enough force to draw fresh blood. "I'm still a monster. Am, and always will be."

The sinister, out of sync echo of the revenant's voice only amplified the vitriolic self-loathing present in his words, and Kung Jin's chest ached at how familiar the whole situation was.

"Is that all you think you are?" he asked quietly, tawny eyes locking with his uncle's fiery ones. Kung Lao was taken aback by the sheer hurt written all over his nephew's face. "You do realize it wasn't your fault... right? You were under Quan Chi's control. You couldn't-"

"I enjoyed it!" Kung Lao growled, interrupting the other warrior. "I tried to stop it, but it felt good. No matter how hard I fought, how much I tried to resist, it felt good, and I couldn't control it. I-"

"It wasn't you," Jin cut him off, a solemn edge to his voice. "It was never you."

The revenant let out a trembling exhale, a pained expression taking ahold of his face. He closed his eyes and curled into himself. "I should've tried harder. I... should've been stronger."

Kung Jin didn't think twice before wrapping his arms around Kung Lao's frame, pulling him into a hug. The older Shaolin was unsure of how to react at first, stunned by the sudden contact - he couldn't remember the last time he had been embraced like this, and the unexpected display of affection seemed almost alien to him. It took a while, but he eventually returned the gesture, allowing himself to give into it completely. Jin sniffled.

Despite Lao's unnaturally cold form, it almost reminded him of the last time they bid each other farewell all those years ago. Before the world came crashing down for both of them.

"No, Lao." The younger warrior said, finally breaking the silence. He felt like a child, clinging desperately to his uncle as if the older man would somehow disappear if he let go. "It wasn't your fault. None of it was." He broke away from the embrace to look at the other warrior in the eye. "Anyone else would've succumbed to the darkness, but you? You made a conscious effort to come back once you broke free. You fought to get your life back, and you did, and you're so, so strong for it."

Kung Lao opened his mouth to protest, but Jin shot him a warning look and raised a finger to silence him before he could say anything. "Don't blame yourself for things you had no control over. What matters is that you're here, now, and you're being true to yourself despite everything. You're not a monster. You..." The young Shaolin looked away for a moment, carefully considering his next words, and when he looked back at his uncle, it was with a fond smile on his face. "You're a hero."

Lao stared at his nephew as he processed his words. The other man's genuine expression filled his chest with an overwhelming feeling of warmth, and he forced himself to rub his eyes with the back of his hand in an attempt to hide the moisture building in them. "Just a hero?" he asked, shooting Jin a knowing look. The archer rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion.

"Fine," he huffed dramatically. "My hero."

Kung Lao chuckled. "I thought I was just another thing in your way."

Jin snorted and shoved him jokingly. "The only thing you're in the way of is my sleep schedule. C'mon, I need rest, and so do you." He punched his uncle's shoulder softly and gestured for him to stand up. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"Wait," Lao said , stopping Jin dead in his tracks. "I can't go out like this."

"Didn't stop you from waking me up," the younger warrior shot back, causing his uncle to pout. "Plus, I doubt your spirit can settle down when you're hurt and covered in blood." He shot the other man a devious look when he groaned. "Tough luck, gramps."

Kung Lao sighed dramatically before standing up. "You sure have a way with words."

Kung Jin shrugged as he picked up his staff and followed suit. "It's a Kung thing."

The two men approached the wooden door, and Jin was about to hold it open when Lao spoke up out of the blue. "Jin?"

"Hm?"

"... Thank you."

The archer looked back at his uncle, and they locked eyes. Gratitude was written all over the revenant's expression, and, despite his inhuman features, Kung Jin could see the soft smile on his face was genuine. He grinned back.

"You're such a softie. C'mon, old men first."

#yes kung lao only appears human when he's Chill and yes he also has trauma. dont @ me it isnt my fault nrs left all this up in the air #Kung Jin #Kung Lao #hat fics

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uncurlinglikeflowers · 3 years

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Queer Trauma, Coming Out, & the Long Road to Self-Love and Healing

As I’ve reflected on my past, I’ve discovered that my adolescence may be one of, if not THE most traumatic time of my life thus far as a queer person. The last few months with my incredible therapist have made me realize that the years of anxiety, panic, fear, self-loathing, confusion, and depression have scarred me deeper than I had previously thought. She also made me realize that this is at least partially because I have never really talked about it openly and in depth in a healthy and productive way before, which is what inspired me to start this blog to share my experiences with others that are currently struggling with their identity, or to allow those that are also currently healing from the trauma of their previously closeted life feel a little more seen.

I knew from a VERY young age that I was different, but didn’t know how or what it meant. I was a lonely kid for a lot of my childhood without many friends. I didn’t want to play football with the boys during recess. I sought companionship at lunch with a table full of girls more often than not, which in itself also made me feel incredibly self conscious at the time as well.

I asked, (with incredible shame) for the “girl’s toy” from the backseat in the McDonald’s drive-thru because I loved to play with the mini-Barbies and craft entire storylines for them. They were easier to hide in my room than regular sized Barbies. I spent most summers off school alone playing video games and reading book and book after book. I didn’t really click with the boys down the street. I was obsessed with Britney Spears and the color purple. I was lonely without really knowing what it meant.

I feel as though that fear I felt in my childhood and adolescence held me back from SO much. Middle school in particular was absolute hell. I hated it. I always felt constantly insecure and uncomfortable. I had absolutely zero confidence or self love. I hated my body and how I looked.

While other kids experienced their first relationships and first feelings of romantic love, I was convinced that it was just not a possibility for me. On top of being deeply closeted, scared, confused, lonely, and in deep denial, girls didn’t go for me anyway. I was the awkward chunky guy struggling with his identity feeling like he had to make up for it by working extra hard to get perfect grades and give himself 100% to other people. I tried not to think about it too much, but hearing about relationships, seeing people kiss in the hallways between classes, and girls talking about what they liked in boys which was the complete opposite of me... it was hell.

To make my self consciousness worse, I felt supremely uncomfortable in gym class and the boys’ locker room in particular. I was ashamed of my body and also self conscious for wanting to look at the other boys; terrified that they would catch on and beat me senseless. Hearing them consistently call each other f*g in a very VERY negative context drove me deep into the closet as the identity I already felt shame for was directly correlated with being a ridiculed outcast, and something that was inherently, disgustingly wrong and unacceptable. The worst insult teenage boys could deliver to each other in the safety of an unchaperoned locker room in a hick town often not kind to queer people or those that were different. I SO desperately wanted to fit in with the other boys instead of being any version of who I actually was.

Part of that façade of blending in with my hetero peers involved having a girlfriend for two months in 8th grade. We didn’t even kiss, let alone approach any sexual situations. I’m sure she had her suspicions. I was utterly obsessed with the concept of blending in by having a girlfriend like the other boys and just having someone special in my life, even if we really didn’t even do any couple things.

Upon reflection, I don’t think the concept of ever being sexual with her ever crossed my mind in the slightest. Even the idea of kissing her scared the hell out of me, and not just from first kiss nerves. Deep down I knew it wasn’t right for me. Don’t EVER tell a kid they’re too young to know. Fast forward to modern times, my first kiss with a girl was with a close friend YEARS after I came out. Go figure.

The idea of caring about and loving myself was non-existent at that time. It’s a very VERY new and ongoing journey for me. I didn’t really care about myself at all. I hadn’t learned how to. Mom was in and out of cancer treatments, and would later pass during my senior year of college and kick off my coming out process, but that’s a whole other post for another day. Spending pretty much my entire childhood watching mom deal with being sick, I didn’t want to cause my family any more discomfort. I was full of self loathing, fear, and confusion, but it seemed irrelevant and unimportant because I didn’t want to be a hindrance.

Instead, I tried so desperately to be the perfect kid and son by befriending my teachers, being a model student, and joining band and a bunch of organizations to stay as busy as possible to stay distracted and impress everyone else.I didn’t love myself because I didn’t think I was allowed to or deserved to in my own head. While I did finally make more meaningful friends in high school, I continued to go through the motions to make my family proud to make up for the scared closeted kid who thought he had to make up for his queerness as though it were a shameful weakness, and it seemed to be the only thing that could possibly matter at the time.

Non-surprisingly, I never really knew any openly queer boys in grade school. It probably legitimately wasn’t all that safe to come out in that environment. I’ll never forget the two boys I saw holding hands in a Wal-Mart that absolutely shook up my entirely reality, because I had never seen romantic same-sex affection in person before.

There was a lesbian couple at my school, but people said awful, degrading things about them behind their backs constantly and acted like they were the biggest freaks. Another boy in my grade in high school hadn’t come out yet officially but was very flamboyant, and thus was treated just as awful as the lesbian couple, if not worse. Other kids just regularly said despicable things about him without even knowing him at all. I even heard parents make blatantly homophobic jokes about him.

His life had to have been hell, and as a fully out queer adult, I still regret not being able to stand up for him more. That definitely forced me deeper into the closet. He wasn’t even out but got talked about like he was some disgusting abomination. How could I ever assume that I could ever come out, let alone kiss, date, and love another boy? I HATED the idea of any attention being placed on me, so I just wanted to survive school at that point.

I had multiple people throughout high school ask me if I were gay just as though it were the most casual question rather than a triggering inquiry that sent me into a mental frenzy every damn time it was presented. Having one of the jock boys ask me such a deeply personal question in passing on the way to my seat in Algebra class was traumatizing. I of course always said no, as at the time I was still convinced it was a passing phase and that I couldn’t actually be gay.

At home, in the days of Myspace, I got anonymous messages telling me they were pretty sure I was gay. The anonymity was arguably worse in some ways.

At a young age, I became hyper aware of how I carried myself, talked, and acted. I loathed hearing my voice or seeing myself in pictures, for fear of sounding too feminine or standing or emoting too gay. I obsessed over the concept that boys and girls carried their books a certain way, or the boys would be labelled as queer. I was paranoid about where I shopped for clothes, the colors I wore, and the length and fit of my shorts.

In middle school, I got a lilac colored trapper keeper for school that I ultimately had my parents take back to the store for a different one because I felt so self conscious about it all day. At home I played with my little Barbies, but didn’t dare tell the kids at school for fear of rejection and isolation. Overall, I felt grossly incompetent, irrelevant, and unimportant in my own mind. Unworthy of love and of course, deeply ashamed for my attraction to the other boys.

I never had anyone whatsoever to help guide me through the coming out process, because I didn’t know a single queer person who could. I’ve now dedicated a good amount of my energy trying to be that person I desperately could have used then for anyone else that needs that role to be filled, and for someone to tell them that someone is incredibly proud of them. An obscene amount of queer people don’t ever hear “I’m so proud of you!” when they really need it the most.

I also didn’t have any good queer representation on TV or in movies, so I really did feel completely alone at times. Most queer characters in media existedly solely to be made fun of and mocked, ratcher than celebrated, properly represented, or God forbid, given a legitimate love story, and the public’s reaction was so frequently one of such repugnance and disapproval.

This was also probably about the time that a close family member told me that he had punched a gay guy for hitting on him when he was younger, a story he again felt the need to share with a now ex-boyfriend and I when we were dating, as though that’s not a horrifying thing for an already scared and closeted queer to hear from their own family.

I think during middle school in particular is when my anxiety and depression issues started, but I assumed either that I was being a baby and that my feelings were invalid, or that it was just teenage angst. The idea that boys and men should mask their emotions and feelings and feel shame rather than expressing them was, (and seemingly appears to continue to be) a very real thing in small towns and society in general.

It didn’t occur to me at the time that I was experiencing varying levels of almost daily trauma that would fuck me up well into adulthood. If you take anything at all from this post, let it be that the conversation around mental health, (and men in particular in this instance) NEEDS to change.

Another particularly noteworthy event in my queer adolescence was when two of my friends, (both girls, shocker) discovered gay porn on my computer. While they pestered me about if it were mine while they laughed, I of course lied. I felt a deep shame and utter humiliation. On reflection, fucking IMAGINE if they had been able to be gentle and understanding with me and told me they loved me and still would even if I were gay. From then on I was terrified that they would bring that day up to our other friends as a joke. Perhaps they did a time or two, I don’t recall. These same friends made jokes about the queer kid I mentioned earlier, and both parents of one of the girls regularly gossiped and made homophobic jokes about him when I was at their house

By the time school dances rolled around, I knew I would never be able to go with anyone but friends. Even if I weren’t still deeply closeted, I’m pretty sure my school still had pretty strict rules against bringing same-sex dates to Prom. While I definitely had fun with my friends at the dances we went to, I so desperately longed for a world where I could dance with a boy who loved me like everyone else was able to.

The loneliness and isolation I felt at the end of those nights could be unbearable because it didn’t seem possible for me, even as I looked into the future. I was fully convinced I would live a very lonely life without anyone to love me the way I craved. I didn’t belong in that world, and wouldn’t ever be set up for that kind of happiness, joy, and feeling of content. I would live for everyone else but myself because that’s just the way the world worked for us queers.

I wish I had had just one single person then who gave me full permission to be my authentic queer self on any level. Someone who could hug me and tell me life after high school and college could and would be vastly different. Someone to tell me I wasn’t an unlovable disgusting freak, but rather a kind-hearted boy who deserved a deep love someday because I was a valid and gentle soul who deserved the world. I certainly deserved more than the shame and pain that constantly haunted me.

Maybe then I wouldn’t have thought about death before 30 so much and obsessed over it well into my college career. I might have realized that I needed to learn to be gentle with myself and take care of and prioritize me and my own happiness. So many people let me down and convinced me that I was a filthy sinner and an over-emotional kid with invalid perspectives and feelings. As most of my closest friends, (that I cannot stress enough have been the ones to save my life and encourage the authenticity that I present so proudly today) came into my life after I had already come out fully, they weren’t around during those dark early struggles.

Sometimes as an adult I still wonder what it would have felt like and how profoundly different my life could be if someone had held me close and sincerely told me they’re proud of me for what I survived and overcame, and told me that they can’t wait to see my eyes light up with the love I’ve always dreamed of in a boy, and that I still continue to seek.

Young, baby gay Travis would be in absolute awe if he knew what life had in store for him back then. To see a future version of himself painting his nails, wearing whatever he wanted, dancing with strangers at pride festivals, having the time of his life at drag shows with his queer family and falling in love with boys? Proudly holding a boyfriend’s hand walking downtown in a busy city? Openly telling his dad about the cute boy he’s going on a date with? Going Facebook official with a boy? Being a super vocal advocate and inspiration and mentor to not only queer family, but to people he hardly talks to but manages to influence and inspire just by unashamedly being himself? Genuinely looking forward to kissing his new husband in front of family and friends on his wedding day, knowing it’ll be one of the happiest days of his entire life?

Holy. Actual. Fuck.

Travis of six or seven years ago wouldn’t have even dared to dream this big, let alone baby gay Travis. He probably would have been utterly mortified but SO comforted to see that future life when he didn’t believe it to be any level of possible.

I’m so fucking proud of myself for this journey, and no one will ever take that away from me or water down my trauma or the grueling work I’ve put in. Genuinely, this is the one thing in my life that makes me absolutely burst with pride.

I think I want to learn how to keep baby Travis in mind with this pride without having to revisit the trauma in the process. Look back at him with open arms, excited to see him learn and blossom into his actual self someday. Even if he could have desperately used someone like the me I am today, he survived then, and continues to persevere today.

He’s queer as fuck, and proud to shout it from the rooftops. He’s a voice and an advocate for the voiceless. A shining light and beacon of hope for those still navigating their terrifying escape from their closeted life. He’s going to meet a man someday and love him so deeply in the way baby Travis always dreamed of. Above all, he’s going to continue to make that little guy so incredibly proud because he knows now the importance of loving himself in the process.

I’m so proud of that scared little boy. I just wish he could have known then how proud he would make himself one day.

As you talk with the queer people in your life, please keep in mind that just about all of us have incredible trauma directly tied to our identities. Talk to them with love, compassion, and understanding. Tell them how proud of them you are for pursuing their own happiness in the face of oppression and rejection.

Demand better from elected officials. Advocate for us. Shut down homophobic ideals, even if you think it’ll make your family and friends uncomfortable to hear. Support queer content, artists and creators. Be a proud ally, but don’t ever allow yourself to take the spotlight away from actual queer people or our queer spaces. Mourn, love, and celebrate with us.

Understand why pride is SO fucking important to us, and why you never have to worry about needing your own pride events. Listen to us and love us for exactly who we are, and were always meant to be. Love is the most incredible, beautiful, and often rare human experience we’re able to experience during our short time on this planet, and it should always be celebrated.

Happy Pride!

#pride #gay #lgbt #journaling #love #queer #coming out #coming out stories #queer trauma #adolescent trauma #self love #healing #trauma

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peeterparkr · 4 years

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perfidy;tom holland|8

chapter 8: the focus

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: y/n’s fears and tom’s thoughts.

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention, drama

word count: 6.7k

here’s a playlist

social media before you read (IMPORTANT FOR THE CHAPTER) : Tweets & Instagram

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist

wanna be tagged?

Stay safe and here’s a doc where you can find out how to support BLM

How wonderful is it that life makes us coincide with people. How wonderful is it that two people with all of the odds of never seeing each other find each other. How amazing is it that two people can feel absolutely everything. How incredible is it that two people can fall in love?

How stupid was it that she had to make that person be Tom.

Y/N was currently debating to herself: did she really want to go there?

She stared at the blank document in front of her. She typed in some letters but there was something bothering her. She’d written a few pages already but this really wasn’t where she wanted to go with. She held her coffee in between her hands as she tried not to squint at the bright screen. She’d put on some big white t-shirt that was hanging around as some

shorts. She’d already taken a pill to help with the headache but there really wasn’t any pill that could soothe her morals. Or her heart for that matter.

And there was no pill that could calm down her thoughts. Because she had felt that spark in her eyes, that stupid smile and that gentle butterflying in her stomach. Sure, she could blame the alcohol but she really knew she couldn’t.

And it came back to that night, the yellow flowers.

She remembered how it felt. The heartbreak, the last one she’d experienced. How hard she’d fallen into that very dark place. How vocal she had been about it when being alone.

Having to pretend everything was okay because she was not supposed to be in love with him and how she was not supposed to care about him. How she had to swallow up her feelings but come home to tear herself apart.

How much her stomach hurt and how barely she could sleep. How she couldn’t talk. How she’d break down in random moments, in the shower, in the bus. and at school and pretend it was something else. Blame it on everything.

How disappointed she was. How nothing made sense. How she’d cry until she fell asleep, but she didn’t sleep at all. Waking up in the middle of the night to think about everything, to call herself a fool for even coming up with it. Losing her breath. How she would need to scream to her pillow. How somehow she’d lost a bit of herself with him.

How the days had turned grey, so grey and so long, nights seemed too short and if they ever came the moon would only get ever so brightly to wash her body to keep her awake. How she had cried so much she’d run out of tears.

How she’d changed her style. How she’d try to be more feminine. Or how she tried to comb her hair in a different way. Or her makeup. Change herself. How she had tried to change her personality. . How she couldn’t know why he couldn’t love her. What was wrong? her perfume? The lipstick? Was it her music taste?

What was wrong with her? Why did he hate her that much?

The thought would remain on her head for hours and hours. Days and nights. Weeks. Months. Years.

How she had isolated and found comfort in movies, and scenes and brightened up her day. But they didn’t make any sense, at all. Nothing did. Not even her favorite song or her favorite movie.

How nothing would make her smile. And how she’d listen to sad songs to make herself sadder and how she had to deal seeing him parade around and keep mocking her. How she had to keep on an act. Keep ok with a life when she had been so broken-hearted. How she had given so much and it hadn’t been enough.

How hard it had been because everything simply would bring it back. Like a random song on the radio, a movie scene or a book. And how hard it was seeing him everywhere, and how she had had to block his name from coming up. How she had to distance herself from his family, his friends. Her friends and her family.

How no one knew. And no one could know. What did she win by saying a man had screwed her over? What would she win by saying that man had been Tom?

She’d cried for a complete month, even more. Her tears had dried out. Not knowing if she was crying out of pain because he’d hurt her or she was crying out of self pity, because what a fool had she been.

Because she knew, she had warned herself. That he was a rock. That Tom would never love her, that he hated her. She was well aware that he had a stone cold soul, that his heart was not reachable. Not for her, at least.

She knew he was poison, she knew he was the devil in disguise, that he was no angel. That he’d break her.

And yet, she’d fallen in love with him. But that’s what she got for ignoring her own advice. She remembered the day she’d promised herself she would stop trying.

All because of yellow flowers.

She stared at the script she started and she thought about it: she couldn’t go through another heartbreak caused by Tom. She couldn’t go again through it, she couldn’t cry mid workouts, and she couldn’t shut her thoughts. How dumb she had felt, and how much it simply hurt. She needed to have her heart locked up, she couldn’t let herself feel anything.

And she didn’t. She really didn’t. She didn’t want to be hurt again. Because the last time he broke her heart, he broke her completely.

Maybe he didn’t know about it. No one did, really. Each heartbreak had been different. With Tom, there was a constant. She had to be quiet about her pain. Even when she wanted to scream and yell, she couldn’t let him know he’d won. No one could know that she was crying over him. No one could know about her frustration.

It made her nauseous thinking about it. She couldn’t go back to that place. But she needed him to go through it.

But even after the darkest storm, the sun comes out. She’d met Timmy. And he had saved her from drowning. Even after the drought. Even if it had been a crime.

Because Timmy showed her that she could be loved for being herself. Because Timmy loved every aspect that made her. From the way she liked to let the tears dry on their own or how she always had post-it’s hanging around for her notes. Because Timmy loved that y/n liked to watch the vinyl roll as it played, and because Timmy loved the way she’d run out of breath whenever she laughed.

With Timmy, she’d stare at windows and enjoy walks in the rain. It was calm. And she was breathing again. even underwater She didn’t have to worry about her makeup, or anything. Timmy had shown her how to love herself. Maybe that’s why he was still hanging on the Polaroids. Because he had learned to love her when she was down and he managed to pull her up.

Not that Tom had ever told her anything about herself but y/n with her complicated mind, only could wonder why he hated her. Why did the person she’d loved the most hated her so ardently? Why couldn’t he love her? Why wasn’t she enough?

Timmy had taught her something, loving is simple. Timmy had taught her she was enough.

She was more frustrated this time, not only would she get hurt if he didn’t fall in love with her but she’d have no script. Still, she was writing,

Eventually, he finally walked into the kitchen bare chested, he’d wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her shoulder, her neck and finally ended on her cheek. She’d been quick to close the document and then stared at him, and expected him to throw in something that would break her again. Hadn’t she met Timmy she’d probably already be crying. But maybe she’d built up a shield so high that she wouldn’t be bothered by him anymore. Even if she felt the pain on her chest.

“Morning,” he sheepishly said as he continued to pepper her neck with kisses.

“I made you coffee,” she whispered as she closed her MacBook.

“Sh, you’re being too loud,” he nuzzled into her neck. “I’m never drinking wine again.”

She chuckled. “Here ,” she pushed a box of aspirins towards him. “I wasn’t going to give you anything, thought it’d be a good way to attack my enemy. But I guess, having some pity is a benefit we should have.”

He grabbed the pill and then chuckled as he searched for his water, he downed two glasses before he took the pill.

“Your fans have made their way to my Instagram, by the way, haven't checked any of the notifications and I really don’t want to,” she admitted.

“Sorry.”

She didn’t say anything. She waited for him to speak, to destroy her and somehow make her insecure again. Even if the glance he was giving her could make anyone believe he liked her, she was just waiting to be stabbed.

“You have a lot of Polaroids,” he commented.

“Not all of them are actually Polaroids but I edited some and printed them out, they’re important,” she mentioned.

He raised his brows. “What is the importance of them?” As he sipped from the bitter coffee.

“Moments, memories, things that made me who I am,” she shrugged.

“And Timmy made you who you are today?” He chuckled.

She watched him. “In many ways, yes.”

He scrunched his nose. “So you’re not taking them off?”

“Why would I?” She questioned as she reached over to the cookies she’d baked the day before, pulling the plate towards her.

“You broke up,” Tom pushed. “You should hate him.”

“I don’t hate him, besides even if I did. Wouldn’t take him off. I hate you and you’re up there.”

“You have the worst pictures of me,” he pointed out.

“I know,” she smirked. “But you’re up there... even if I don’t like to admit it, Tom, you’re a very important part of my life.”

“Am I?”

She looked at him. “I grew up with you. Yes.”

“What would make you take a picture off?”

“I’ve taken some off for some time,”she admitted. “But it meant that I really, really didn’t want to see their face.”

“What’s your favorite picture there?”he grinned.

She smiled to herself. “I’ll show you,” she said as she headed back to her room. He followed her with curiosity. She looked up for the picture, one of Tim’s, the one with the raincoat as he’s looking up in the rain.

He rolled his eyes. “Why?”

“What?” She frowned.

“Why this one with Tim. I see all these pictures and some of them, I know you were the happiest.”

“It’s the moment I knew I was truly, madly deeply in love with him,” she explained as she sat down on her bed again. The moment she was finally breathing again.

“The moment you knew? Look, I… I think love is something gradual, there’s not a moment that you wake up one day and realize you’re in love.”

“No, but there is a moment you realize it,” she pointed out.

He frowned, sitting beside her. “When you realize it?”

“Yes, it’s like that climax point in a movie, it was that one with Tim,” she stared at the picture. The way he was smiling, the way the rain covered him down.

Tom leaned over to see it. “Really?”

“You know those scenes in movies when everything just… makes sense as they’re perfect?” She smiled. “How even though there is probably a lot going on, the lights are hitting the main character perfectly, the focus is only on them, and how the music is subtly playing just building up the emotion, and how their own feelings fade in, maybe a close up, and you know it as everything falls into place.”

He frowned comprehensively. “Right.”

“Well, that day…. I felt it, I saw it, and he was that focus and I knew it. I was so in love with him.”

“When was this?”

“It was autumn.”

He chuckled.

“Don’t laugh,” you wanted.

“No, I won’t, sorry. It’s cause I hardly believe you could feel something as inspiring… with Timothée,” he pronounced his name with such venom.

She ignored him. “We had been walking around, it was a date and I remember holding his arm, it was cold and it was raining just slightly, but we would go to this tea house…”

“Did you get pneumonia?”

She rolled her eyes. “and we were heading to this library first but it started to rain harder but...everything fell into place, we tried to run for a place to cover ourselves but then… something magical happened as if it was straight out of a movie,” she grinned. “a guy opened his balcony window and started to play the cello… You know that Bach song everyone knows?” She grinned.

Tom blinked.

“And I found cover under a perfume shop’s shade and I called for him but he was… too entranced by it, I remember he looked up to the guy in his balcony and he just smiled…and he called me out to go in the rain with him, and I had to take a picture because the look in his eyes and… the way he was the main character…I just knew it then. I was so in love with him.”

And even if she wasn’t raining, she had finally found a way out to breath.

Tom cleared his throat. “You’re too poetic sometimes.”

“Well haven’t you ever felt it? I know you’ve been in love,” she pointed out.

“Yes but it’s never worked out,” he clenched his jaw. “And it didn’t work out for you either.”

“A break up doesn’t necessarily mean it didn’t work out,” she debated.

“Well mine didn’t.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t… I… look, that conversation is definitely not included in our benefits,” he scowled as he stood up searching for his phone.

“Sorry I thought since I told you—“

“You thought wrong,” he grunted.

She closed her eyes. “Of course.”

The doorbell rang just in time to make this less awkward, she left her room as he plopped down back on the bed to stare at his phone.

There needed to be a way to know what had him falling in love, of course that would take a while. Maybe a little more wine, get him all turned on again and he’d be spilling it all.

But she walked to the door, it ran again, triggering her headache.

“Coming!”

She slightly opened the door to see who was there, and little did she expect… him. She almost fainted as she saw his pretty face, with his curls falling down his green perfect eyes, as his hands held pastel colored flowers.

“Oh my god,” were the only words that had come out. “Tom—I mean… TIMMY!”

“Y/N!” He started but y/n closed the door. “Y/N?” He called out again.

And she remembered, they had agreed on having brunch together. She cursed under her her breath every possible bad word she knew.

She opened the door again to see a confused Timothée.

He frowned, “y/n.”

Then she cleared her throat. “Give me a sec—“

“Y/N—“

But she’d closed the door again and rushed to pick up any trace of last night, then she ran to her room to see a half naked Tom with his cup of coffee, scrolling through his phone. She threw his clothes at him.

“Hey!” He complained.

“Shut up!”

“Who was it—“

“Sh!” She jumped slightly in frustration. “It’s Timmy.”

“Timmy.”

“Oh my god, he can’t know,” she chirped. “I—“

“What is he doing here?”

“I’m having brunch with him and then we’d go together to Harry’s…”

“He’s coming?” Tom frowned.

“Emma invited him,” she was so nervous.”but oh my god he can’t know about this so you’re going to stay quiet and hide.”

“C’mon y/n—“he laughed, “why can’t he know?”

“You want me to tell your brothers and friends too?”

“No—“

“Then?”

“Fine, I’ll stay here. I’ll be quiet.” He frowned. “But why are you going out with him?”

“It’s—my business, and I don’t think asking those kind of questions are included in our… benefits,” she searched in for some clothes, picking out a pretty dress. “now I’m gonna go let him in and I’m going to take a shower and I need you to—“

“Is that an invitation?” He asked with a smirk.

“No, you’re ugly,” she answered. “And I need you to stay here quietly.”

“C’mon babe,” he laughed.

She shot him a death glare and threw a pillow at him, “shut up!”

“What was that For?”

“Keep quiet.”

“Babe,” he grabbed her arm.

“Fellow associate,” she frowned as she watched him.

He only pulled her over to kiss her. She didn’t kiss him back.

He blinked as he pulled away. “Hey.”

“Keep quiet.”

He rolled his eyes, watching her leave the room, closing the door.

He then heard her: “Timmy! Hi, sorry I’m… you can come in, sorry, I uh… I’ll be quick alright?”

“Yeah, of course—Uh, These are for you.”

“They’re beautiful, Tim, thank you… now uh, I… you can hang around here in the kitchen if you want to—I’ll just take a shower“

“Yeah,’course—“

Tom rolled his eyes, as he mimicked Timmy. He was fumed. Disgusted.

Tom could hear the water running now from the shower. Y/n’s apartment was very small, that made it cute but it was very small that there was no wonder why she had asked him to stay quiet.

“So, y/n.” Tom heard Timmy say. “Busy night?”

Tom smirked to himself.

“Hm?” Y/N answered. “Not really! Very calm actually!”

Tom frowned.

”really?” Timmy pushed. “I saw Tom was here.”

Tom frowned. How did he know?

“How did you—Yeah he came for dinner, nothing special we went over his schedule.”

“With wine?” Timmy asked.

“You really think I would stand him without it?” Y/N yelled back with a laugh. “But he was long gone.”

“And then you got drunk by yourself—“

“I—what?” Y/N asked.

Tim laughed, “you posted a… very nice picture.”

“I—what?”

Tom frowned as he went straight to Instagram. And he saw it, the picture he had very well snapped of y/n. She posted it. Of course Tom was nowhere in sight but if people connected the dots… of course people would think stuff. Thankfully, Tom knew, Harry probably was at Emma’s, and he hadn’t noticed that Tom hadn’t slept home. But Harrison.

He’d have to deal with Harrison.

“Aaaah,” y/n said. “What did I post? I actually did get very drunk by myself…”

Tim didn’t answer.

Tom cursed under his breath. He had to leave now, because he didn’t really need to give an explanation to Harrison. Haz probably already was up. Did Harrison know he was not home yet?

Tom even stopped listening to the awkward banter between y/n and Tim. He didn't care anymore. He had his own reasons to freak out. And y/n and Timmy started a very dumb conversation. Even if it wasn’t, Tom was annoyed by Timothee.

Even if the guy had done nothing wrong. But Tom did have his reasons to hate him. Being bloody perfect for y/n was the biggest reason, of course. And that y/n was so smitten with him. If y/n ever looked at him the way she stared at Timothee, and if she listened the way she listened to Tim, Tom would never ever be able to say he hated her.

Tom didn’t even realize when y/n had walked into the room, also freaking out about the picture.

“We need some damage control,” that’s all she said before handing him the keys to her apartment so he’d close it up.

Before Tom knew it he was quietly walking into his place, with his t-shirt stained with wine, and probably stained with the infamous walk of shame. Tom was praying to himself that he wouldn’t see Harrison. And he thanked everything in existence that Harry had stayed at Emma’s and that the party would be at her place so there was no reason as to why Harry would know.

Tom quietly tiptoed his way in but little did he know he was expected.

“Good morning!” Harrison greeted him.

“I—went to my—car.”

“Are you gonna tell me you went to your car which clearly wasn’t here all night? And probably was at y/n’s just like you were.”

“No-uh.”

“Amazing walk of shame you’ve got going on there,” Harrison sassed. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on? Or are you gonna invent something like y/n did last time and claimed she watched porn? Did you watch porn at her place now?” Haz smirked as he took a sip of the tea he had in his hand.

Tom was screwed. He couldn’t lie to his best friend.

“I—“

“Nice t-shirt, is it designer?” Haz chuckled. “Is it by the same designer of y/n’s glass of wine in her last picture?”

“It’s nothing—“

“Is it really nothing?” Haz laughed. “Just like the fact that when I was on set I might have seen you sneak a kiss on her cheek?,” Haz smirked. “I didn’t mention it but I might as well do it right now before you come up with any stupid excuses.”

“I—“

“We ain’t got all day, Tom,”Haz insisted.

Tom squinted. “It’s nothing—“

“Nothing?”

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

Harrison frowned. “Sit down, Thomas. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

Tom had to sit down and deal with the pounding headache he was facing not only because of the alcohol he had had last night but now because he really had no excuse to give to Harrison.

“So?” Haz crossed his arms.

“I… well.”

“You slept with her, we both know that,” Haz sassed.

“I…. did.” Tom cleared his throat.

Haz expected him to elaborate.

“Twice,” Tom continued. “Yeah, once when… a few weeks ago, and… well last night.”

“How did it—“

“The first time?” Tom gulped. “I may have… hinted at it, I think it just… led to it. We made out in the car and we’d been flirting all night. And… we have… we have been having this whole game I dunno, when we were teasing each other, and I don’t know… we made out a few more times but… last night, we were talking about everything, we had had dinner, we had laughed, and then I just kissed her and it escalated and—I dunno it just happened.”

“Just happened.”

“And… well, I don’t know, we agreed on being enemies with benefits.”

“What even is that?”

“Means that we can continue hating each other but we get to fuck I guess,” Tom looked away. “Sounds stupid don’t even know why I accepted it.”

Haz raised his brows. “Well… why did you?”

“I just did.” Tom gulped.

Harrison frowned. “Your brother was bloody in love with her and you hate her,” he said condescendingly. “Tom this is—“

“What if I don’t?”

“You don’t—what?”

Tom stood up. “I’m very bloody aware he was in love with her but he’s with Emma now. And I’m spending time with y/n… and we are both single and so far the sex has been great.”

“I guess it’s not a crime Tom, but this is insane…You hate her.”

“I don’t alright?” Tom admitted, he was sweating. “I’ve been bloody in love with her my whole fucking life and now I… Harry moved on.”

Harrison watched him. “Well that’s… such a turn of events.”

“Yes I loved her okay? Is it that big of a crime?” Tom scoffed. “And I—I also do hate her because I wasn’t supposed to love her alright?” Tom rubbed his face. “I never wanted to hurt Harry and okay, had she been in love with Harry instead of me…”

“She loved you at some point, didn’t she?”

“When we were younger, just a crush,” Tom continued, well aware that y/n had told him only last night that he had been her first love. “But I hated her because I…”

“You hate her and you’re in love with her.”

“I hate her because I shouldn’t be in love with her, not when my brother loves her too and he deserves her, and she deserves someone like him. Someone who treated her right, who didn’t bother her to get her attention.”

Harrison watched him, curiously. He was slightly shocked but not really. “I’m… this isn’t.”

“And look, maybe it’s stupid but Harry moved on and now she’s not dating that stupid Timothee—and I thought hey this might be my chance, but the only problem is still Timothée, that dumb man.”

“You don’t have to come for Tim-“

“But look, she’s not over him, she literally woke up, and left to have breakfast with him—“

Haz watched him. “You’ve literally treated her so badly her entire life—“

“I know, I've been an asshole my whole life, I guess I tried to make her fall in love with Harry instead,” Tom sighed. “Look, I know she’ll never be able to—I noticed it, she doesn’t look at me the way she—God, just this morning when she saw a picture of Timothée, her eyes lit up, he’s her bloody everything.”

Harrison watched him. “But you’re in love with her.”

“Yes and I know I can’t—I know I can’t have her because I have fucked up so many times and if I did do anything, Harry would be devastated even if he’s over her…” I can at least have this, this whole enemies with benefits bullshit.”

Harrison watched him. “And would you try anything else?”

Tom sighed, “maybe,” he coughed. “But it’s—when I’ve kissed her, she—I know she doesn't feel anything.”

“Do you? Have you shown her?”

“I don’t know how, and this—this has only been full of lust and I know… this doesn’t feel like it’s supposed to feel like alright? It feels like we are in a place where we only want to hurt each other.”

“Hurt each other? Don’t you love her?”

“It’s a matter of habit, I guess…” Tom gulped. “Old habits that didn’t wear out. It’s in my nature I guess.”

His friend stayed quiet, trying to process the information he was just given.

“Well change,” Haz said. “If you love her—“

“I won’t. I’m okay with this,” Tom lied. He cleared his throat. “But look Harry can’t know because even if he doesn’t know I love her he’ll think I’m just using her and if he knew I loved her he’d encourage me to try something and in any way that’ll break his heart…”

Harrison rolled his eyes. “I won’t tell anyone,” Haz sighed. “But Tom you’re just playing with something that—I don’t know man, maybe try something?”

“Why?”

“Harry wouldn’t mind if he knew you dated her, he’d mind if he knew you were doing this,” Haz pushed.

“But she won’t—give in,” Tom sighed. “I know.” Tom paused. “I know but… maybe I’ll just… I’m just scared that all my life I’ve told her that she’s always found a way to make every wrong decision and I know I’m just another one, alright? I’m another mistake she’s making.”

Harrison raised a brow.

“Gee, I’ve been talking too much with her. I'll be getting all poetic like her but—I know that Timmy or Harry would be right for her but I really don’t want her to see that. I want her to choose the wrong option. I am the wrong option here.”

Harrison watched her. “I don’t know man, just be careful because you might end up hurting several people in here… now go get dressed and presentable, we need to head to Harry’s party.”

Somehow telling Harrison had not soothed any of his thoughts. Because Tom knew this was a wrong turn and that anything that would lean on from this. He was incredibly confused.

Tom knew that he’d hurt y/n in very many ways, sometimes he’d meant it, some others, mostly he hadn’t. But we can understand that love is so complicated. He had never seen her cry in front of him, not really. Sure he knew that she was hurt but she always looked back like saying; you'll get my revenge. Maybe she had been incredibly good at hiding it or maybe she’d never been hurt at all.

Just as they continued to grow up y/n would show less and less importance to Tom. Even this morning when she’d refused to kiss him back, as if saying you’re not going to win this one.

And Tom wanted to prove her wrong. He wanted to show her how a real kiss should taste like, and he wanted her to choose a different path. Because he saw y/n had always been struggling while climbing up the same tree. The same songs. Stuck in a place where she wouldn’t get out of.

But that made her. All the small details. when you’ve been in love with someone you notice the little details that make a person.

Maybe Tom wanted to show her a different part. And maybe he had just by last night having genuine fun with her. Not meaning about sex of course, but everything else.

The way he had heard her run out of breath from laughter or the way she had offered him a spoonful of the cookie dough. So simple. So real.

Love is strange. Because what Tom hadn’t told Harrison was that Tom was also waiting to be stabbed. He was also waiting y/n to betray him. And y/n could hurt him more, because she had also been so good at hurting him.

Because y/n had hurt him too. Not in the ways one would expect it. But also in the same way that he couldn’t really look at yellow flowers anymore. Because he’d regretted it and she had shut him out. And… he couldn’t be thinking about that.

Not when she was standing right in front of him, with her hair flowing as she laughed so melodically. The light was hitting her just in the spot. Everyone in the party was moving but she was the only focus. Her floral dress matched her pink lipsticks. Pink lips. Everything around her had stopped. She was the only spotlight needed, even if Timothee, Emma and Harry were laughing with her. They went silent to Tom

They were laughing at the cookies y/n had made, with the flower petals she’d put on. The aesthetic had been more important.

And Tom had to look away because he was staring too long. And he’d been transported back to a few months ago, when Tim and Y/N were still a thing. And just seeing them made Tom realize that they probably still were. Not dating but this…

It hurt. It hurt knowing he wasn’t the right choice. Yet… y/n looked up just once and gave him that stare. The kind where she basically undressed him with a glance.

He wondered how she was feeling because she had been, even if she was laughing, she had been extremely weird.

Though Tom had only had one same thought the whole day. He needed to buy a Polaroid. But that was the least he should care about. Because his brother had ignored him, all day long.

And y/n had arrived with Timothée, and she had been laughing all this time. And Tim had given him a weird look, but Timothee had been so cocky this evening as if he knew a secret that Tom didn’t.

But y/n and Tom were normal, mocking each other, rolling their eyes at each other and acting like usual. Nothing to suspect there. But y/n had kept on a little game, if she ever walked behind Tom she’d brush a hand on his lower back, or the way she’d sometimes stop and look at him, biting her lip slightly.

She was driving him crazy.

Sam had asked Tom about y/n’s night, and Haz had stepped in.

“Yeah, y/n must have been so tired of Tom that she probably had to black out to forget them, Tom came home pretty early.”

And everyone was around Harry and Emma couldn’t take her eyes off of him. They would miss him.

But Harry had been quiet. Harry hadn’t looked at Tom. He had talked to anyone else but Tom. Was he angry?

Tom walked over to Harry, Emma, and Tuwaine.

Tim, Haz and Y/N were talking to some other friends of them.

“I thought they had broken up,” Tom commented with poison as he eyed them.

“They’re still friends,” Emma commented, “and if we are honest they’re gonna get back together any time soon.”

“Wouldn't say that,” Tom insisted.

“You wouldn’t?” Harry wondered. “Did she say that at your dinner last night?”

Tuwaine laughed. “I’m impressed you guys haven’t killed each other by now.”

Emma laughed, “I don’t know how y/n is dealing with it, my girl, she is so strong, having her ex and her worst enemy in the same room…”

Tuwaine scrunched his nose. “Poor y/n.”

Harry chuckled. “Yes.”

“But they…” Tuwaine watched them. “They seem like they’re alright.”

“I don’t really understand why they broke up. They’re so perfect together,” Harry agreed, watching them.

Emma shrugged. “Dunno, and besides this whole best friends dating each other best friends was amazing.”

Tom coughed. “Right.”

“But no, I’m sad to tell you,”Harry chuckled. “I know y/n, and she’s…”Harry gulped. “Let’s say they’re not at the same place you and I are,” Harry grinned as he kissed Emma. “God, I love you.”

Tuwaine and Tom gave each other a glance and decided to walk away. They truly didn’t want to be in their way.

Tom wondered if Harry was so in love with Emma why had it bothered him that he had had dinner with y/n? What bothered him? Emma was so in love with him. And Harry was so in love with her. Emma was like… anything Harry had wished for.

But the party continued.

And Tom and Tuwaine ended up talking about the movie, about Tuwaines life and about everything that was going on.

But Tom kept looking at how Timothee hadn’t left y/n’s side.

“It’s not me, right? Tim is extremely annoying,” Tom pointed out.

Tuwaine laughed. “What? The guy’s a sweetheart.”

“He’s not, he’s boring, and—“Tom rolled his eyes as he saw everyone laughing exactly at something Timothee had said. “And he's really not handsome.”

Tuwaine frowned. “I dunno about that, I just know he’s too… what was the word y/n used? Dreamy.”

“He wouldn’t appear in dreams, he’s a nightmare,” Tom scoffed. “What did he see in him?”

“I don’t know,” Tuwaine chuckled. “I—why are you asking me this?”

Harrison approached them. “What are we talking about?”

“Why Tim is so dreamy,” Tuwaine laughed. “Look at his eyes,” Tuwaine chanted laughing.

Haz glanced behind him and then raised his brows at Tom. “Really?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Probably because he treated her like he was the only girl in the room and he looks at her so nicely and he hasn’t broken her heart multiple times and he’s not an asshole, and doesn’t constantly mock her,” Haz sassed.

“What?” Tuwaine laughed. “That sounds so specific.”

Haz laughed. “I know.”

Tom rolled his eyes as he turned to y/n again and she locked her sight with him and then slightly motioned away. She excused herself from her friends and headed to the restroom, Tom waited for a decent amount of time before heading after her.

He knocked on the door, “it’s me.”

Y/n opened it and before checking it was cleared she dragged him inside, locking the door.

“How’s that damage control going?” She asked him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. “Hi.”

“Thomas, not the time,” she rolled her eyes, but her hands landed on his chest anyway. “What did you do with Haz?”

He scrunched his nose. “He didn’t notice,” he lied.

“Good, Tommy—I mean,” she blinked, “Timmy did ask but I told him a lie.”

“Don’t you ever dare confuse me with him again,” Tom threatened.

She smirked. “Or what?”

Tom pushed her up against the wall, “or else…” his lips connected with her neck. She instantly closed her eyes.

But someone knocked on the door and y/n instantly pushed him away.

“Uh… coming!” Tom said.

“What?” Y/n mouthed.

“Oh okay, sorry!” It was Harry. Tom and y/n panicked. “Hey Tom, did you see y/n?”

“No I didn't, why would I? I’m in the bathroom man, and I’m definitely not up for a conversation,” Tom snapped.

“Right, sorry, I’ll… should I call her?” Harry asked.

“No, no man…”

And y/n quickly pulled out her phone and silenced it before anything else could go wrong.

“I—Tom, actually can you come out already? I need to talk to you.”

“Man. I’m kind of… busy,” Tom said again. Tom licked his lips, as he then pointed to the shower.

“What?” Y/N mouthed again.

“Hide there,” Tom whispered.

Y/N frowned but got into the shower and hid behind the curtains.

Tom washed his hands and walked out to face his brother, closing the door.

“What?” Tom wondered.

“What happened last night?” Harry asked.

Tom cleared his throat. “I went to y/n’s place, had dinner, we discussed the schedule and that’s it.”

“Tom, don’t play with her,” Harry begged him.

“What?” Tom frowned.

Harry took a deep breath. “Look… I… we both know you guys have your relationship but I really don’t want you hurting her anymore, okay?”

“I’m not—doing anything.”

“Tom but you know how she used to feel about you,” Harry pushed. “I don’t want you messing her up anymore because okay, if you make her cry once again I’m not gonna be there and—“

“Harry, Harry, Harry, I genuinely am not going to do anything to hurt her, things have changed okay, we are… kind of friends.”

Harry sighed. “Fine—I am just worried okay?”

“Yes okay.”

Harry cleared his throat. “Well I’m—“he pointed to the bathroom.

“Aaa—-ahhh, hey good luck there Harry! Going into the bathroom! Good for you! What are you—what are you doing there?”

“Peeing, thanks for asking.” Harry scowled.

“GOOD LUCK IN THE RESTROOM WHILE YOU PEE!” Tom yelled again.

Harry frowned and punched Tom in the shoulder, but got there anyway.

Tom chuckled to himself, before taking out to text y/n, warning her.

But before he knew it y/n had come back to the living room and glared at him.

They gathered up to say their goodbyes, and good luck to Harry. It really wasn’t sentimental, maybe only coming from Sam and Tom, wishing their brother their best good and congratulating him. It was just people happily giving their advice and nice words.

“Thanks to everyone I—this is very nice coming from all of you,” Harry chuckled as he was looking at Emma. “Uh—well, tomorrow it’s completing a dream one and—I… but my dream wouldn’t be complete without Emma here, my love.”

Emma grinned as she stood up, taking Harry’s hand.

“Well we have another announcement,” Harry said nervously. “Well uh—“

“We’re engaged!” Emma announced showing her hand up as a big ring was adorning her hand.

“What?” Was the only word that was spreading around the room.

And suddenly the focus was only on that ring.

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auty-ren · 4 years

Text

The Offer: Chapter 2

Touches

Pairing: ClanLeader!Mando x fem. Reader

Rating: T (Mature for future chapters)

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Injury, Touching, Insinuations of sex, Cursing (just a tiny bit), Fluff, Yearning (a lot).

A/N: I’m having so much fun writing this. Please let me know what you think! Comments and feedback appreciated always. It’s also on AO3. Hope y’all enjoy💕

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Mandalorian lore via mandoa.org (I dont own it)

ClanLeader!Au created by @magichandthing

Gif by @coredrive

Summary: You finally get to speak to Clan Leader Djarin again.

Your nose was definitely broken.

The elder assessed that much on her initial exam of your face.

The bile in your stomach churned and nausea flooded your senses at the thought of having to reset the broken cartilage. You knew they would have to realign your nose otherwise it would never grow back properly. However, your stubbornness took hold and you wouldn’t let the elder anywhere near your face. You knew the pain that was eventually going to happen, but you dreaded the process. You wanted to postpone it for as long as you could. You tried to rationalize other options, internally debating and trying to come up with excuses for Mira and the Elder. Maybe if it was left alone, your nose would heal just fine; it seemed like a probable outcome you just hoped Mira would see it that way and leave you be.

Mira, of course, had different plans.

It took Mira straddling you, completely immobile due to her weight pressing into your chest, and the strength she held your arms with for the Elder woman to be able to fix your nose from its dislocated position. When she finally did, you're sure your scream reverberated off the walls.

“We underestimated your strength ad’ika.” The woman joked after giving a final dose of a bacta shot. Your eyes were still watering and you just huffed in response, causing Mira to chuckle from across the room.

Mira’s company started to grow on you, even though at first your time together was filled with silence. She often busied herself around the hut; shining her armor, cleaning her assortment of weapons, tinkering with different pieces of mechanics that littered the shelves. You would offer to help and she accepted, reluctantly at first, but you were starting to think she enjoyed your company as much as you did hers.

Most of the conversation was you asking questions about Mira and her people. You had some knowledge of the ways of a Mandalorian but Mira always explained it better. She always answered you with a sense of patience, explaining everything to you in detail you could understand. You appreciated it, the last thing you would want to do is offend her people with ignorance. She seemed to enjoy your enthusiasm for learning about Mandalorian culture.

“Ba'jur bal beskar'gam, Ara'nov, aliit, Mando' a bal Mand'alor, An vencuyan mhi.”

“What?”

“It is a rhyme taught to children, so they can better understand our way of life.” She put down the tool she was cleaning her armor with, handing you the piece to polish. Before you could even ask, she recited the same phrase to you in basic.

“Education and armor, Self-defense, our tribe, Our language, and our leader, All help us survive.”

Days bled into weeks and you started to lose count of how long you had been with Mira. Your injuries had healed fully thanks to Mira and the elder that visited you. Light remains of your still healing bruises were all the evidence of the encounter. As you felt better, Mira invited you to accompany her into the village. It had almost become pleasant, the little routine you two had. The fresh air always felt nice, and Mira filled the time telling you more stories of her clan.

“That man,” you paused, debating whether or not you should even bring up the topic. “The one who I met when we first arrived, who was he?”

Ever since then you found yourself wondering about him more than you liked to admit. He and Mira had been the first people to treat you with kindness in a long time, so you figured the reaction to him was just grateful. Your curious nature made it almost impossible to not want to know more. You had learned much about Mira the last few weeks, and the persistent thoughts of him would certainly cease at knowing more of him. At least that's what you told yourself, but it was hard to forget that blooming you felt in your chest when he first spoke to you. How the deep timbre of his voice felt like honey that settled in your bones. You caught yourself daydreaming how his voice would sound without the mask of his voice coder, just as rich and deep but something new and soft against your ears. It probably felt heavenly to hear him whisper things to you, his breath gentle in your ear.

Mira turned to you and watched as you waited for an answer. It was as if Mira could read your thoughts from the way her head tilted to look at you. You were thankful she didn't pry, that was a conversation you didn't want to have.

“He is the strongest and conscientious of us all, which is why the High Elders chose him to lead and defend our clan. Each of the pendants he wears is a testament to his fortitude.”

You listened intently, hanging on to every word Mira spoke.

“They say he received his signent by hunting a Mudhorn that terrorized the village and killing the beast with a viro-blade as his only weapon.”

“Oh,” was all you could say, your voice just a whisper in the silence left behind her words. As much as you will yourself to be satisfied with this information, it only seemed to stoke the fire that had been set ablaze by him. You wanted to know so much more, the desire to be around him was something you tried hard to ignore.

—

Much to Mira’s protest you mostly stayed to yourself, already feeling so out of place. Aside from her, the elder, and the brief encounter with the clan leader Djarin you hadn’t spoken to anyone else since being here. She tried all she could to get you to attend their weekly dinner, a celebration every clan member attended, she insisted. You eventually caved to her persistence. So you sat with her at one of the long wooden tables, chipping away at the plate full of food in front of you. Every so often you stopped to pull at a loose thread in your sleeve, somehow hoping the action would ease the anxiousness you felt.

The clan had given you new clothes shortly after settling with Mira. She presented the garments to you one night, explaining that the leaders agreed you would feel more comfortable in them. A simple, deep red, long sleeve tunic, and a long brown skirt that flowed around the movement of your legs. It was similar to the attire you’d seen some of the women in the village wearing. It felt unusual at first, you were so used to wearing the same few articles, almost threadbare in places from the years of consistent wear. These clothes seemed almost new, soft to the touch, and fit your body perfectly. The gesture nearly brought tears to your eyes, no one had given you such a thoughtful gift since you were a child.

It was so refreshing to see that not all the hope had been purged from the galaxy. Mira's people were just as legend had described them, fierce warriors with integrity and strength that rivaled entire battalions of soldiers; but there was also love and kinship that was deeply rooted in pillars of their society. It seemed almost surreal, this warrior race had taken you in; had healed and cared for you. It was something you had to witness first-hand, no amount of stories could convey the community the Mandalorians had, at least no one would believe you if you had tried.

You opted to observe the events of dinner, not wanting to cause any more trouble than you felt you had already. Mira had not lied when she said everyone would be there. The tables were filled with people laughing and enjoying the company of each other. It felt so peaceful, and the unsettling feeling in your stomach subsided as the dinner went on. The evening eventually started winding down when dusk had settled over the village. You thought it would be rude to leave without Mira, so you waited patiently on the sidelines wanting to return to the hut.

“How are you feeling?”

Din leaned his shoulder against the wall behind you, his arms crossed and his head tilted to the side. You jumped, you hadn't even heard him coming towards you. He seemed amused at your reaction, letting out a huff that slightly jolted his shoulders.

“I’m fine,” You felt that same pull start in your chest. “Mira has taken very good care of me.”

“Good.”

He became silent, watching the clan mingle like you were. This was exactly what you had been hoping for, to be alone, to be able to talk with him, and ask all the things you had been pondering since your initial meeting. But now you felt so small, every word you had readied was lost on your tongue, swallowed by the intimidation you felt. He was the noblest warrior of his clan, strong and authoritative in his ways but he made your heart flutter in a way you didn't know could. It was suffocating, being around him but you craved it nonetheless.

He moved to sit next to you, straddling the bench you sat on. You could feel him looking at you, but you didn't dare tear your gaze from in front of you. You felt your face flush all the way to the tips of your ears. He hadn’t said five words to you and you were already a mess.

“I should find Mira,” you broke the tension, hoping to escape so you could finally breathe again. “It's late.”

Before you could distance yourself he spoke, halting you in your tracks.

“I can return you to your hut,” he paused pushing himself to stand. He considered you for a moment as if to debate his next words.

“If that's what you wish.”

—

“I haven’t seen you since your arrival.” It wasn't really a question, more of an observation. You turned to look at his helmet, still trained on the path in front of you.

“Mira forced me to break my isolation.”

A huffed laugh came through his helmet, effectively melting some of the tension that had built up. Your own smile stretched across your lips, he still made you incredibly nervous but he at least had a sense of humor.

You didn't exchange any more words, silence falling back over you both. It felt just a little different than before, the tension wasn't drawn so tight. A light airy feeling replaced the energy that flows between the two of you. You could feel your muscles relaxing just the slightest bit, the bubbling worry in your stomach replaced with a dull ache.

Your senses focused back on your surroundings, cool darkness had enveloped your path, lit only by the torches mounted against the huts. People still congregated in the street, groups exchanging wishes of sweet dreams as most of them prepared for sleep. As you passed, side by side with their leader, each person stopped to give a small bow. Some of their gazes lingered on you, not in a judgemental way, most of them just seemed curious in nature. It was probably odd, seeing some strange woman being escorted by the most respected man in their village. If he noticed their looks, he didn't make it known.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a small flash of bright color, sticking out noticeably against the neutral tones of the earth. You stopped and tucked in between two of the homes lining your path home, was a small flower bed. Some of the buds had yet to bloom, the new petals poking through the green shell that encased them. Others were full and brilliant, ranging from every color under the sun. You kneeled down to gently caress the buds in the palm of your hand.

Din didn’t realize you had stopped at first. He noticed the absence of your footsteps and turned around, watching you admire the flowers. He walked closer to you, essentially blanketing you in his shadow. Like before, you failed to notice his presence behind you.

“Sorry,” you apologized once you realized he was waiting for you. Standing up and brushing the dirt from your knees. You awkwardly clasped your hands together in front of you, waiting for him to respond. He stood still, completely static and it felt like a standoff of who would move next. You thought of saying something, anything to get him to act again but before you could he cut you off.

“You like…” He seemed to carefully consider his next words, in some ways it almost seemed meek the way the syllables rolled off his tongue. “Flowers?”

You turned your head to glance at the bed behind you. Realizing now how odd you must've looked, stopping to smell flowers like some child. You looked forward and he had yet to move still staring directly at you, at least that's what you assumed it was hard to tell with his visor.

“Yes, um…” Your mouth felt dry and tightened around your words. You know he didn't ask for an explanation but you gave one nonetheless, trying to ease your embarrassment.

“My mother used to have flowers on my home planet,” You turned your face down to your hands, rubbing your thumb at the juncture of two of your fingers. “I haven't seen any since the day I left...”

It had been a long time since you had thought of your old life. Ever since the war it had become painful to even entertain the good memories. Your parents had become ghosts of what they once were. Their faces were just flashes in your mind, reduced to the few reminders that stuck with you. The smells of cedar and earth reminded you of your father, his clothes always permeated with the smell of the outdoors. Sometimes you could recall how kind his eyes were, seeing a glimpse of them in your dreams. You remembered your mother’s flowers, how they grew during the warm season filling beds of green with vivid, swirling color.

“I didn’t realize they still grew.” You tried your best to keep the emotions these memories held from finding your face, but Din sensed them nonetheless. He hesitated for a moment before gesturing for you to follow him again.

—

“Thank you, for walking with me,” you said turning to him with a small smile on your face as the hut came into your view.

“Of course.” He stopped just a few feet away from you, turning to mimic your position.

“Goodnight,” you said, turning and walking up the few steps of the porch to Mira’s home.

“You never told me your name,” he said, causing you to stop just in front of the door, you turned back to face him.

You told him, giving a slight smile at the end of your words. He parroted your name, climbing up the stairs becoming level with you again. He moved closer to your body, leaving just a few inches between your chests. You looked up into his visor, your reflection more noticeable with the close proximity of your bodies.

He repeated your name, his hands going for one of the necklaces resting against his chest. He lifted it away from him, bringing the necklace around your neck, the cool metal of the pendant resting just above your breasts. You looked between him and the mythosaur skull, the same one you saw plastered on nearly everything in the village. You wanted to say something, your mouth opening, and closing while trying to focus long enough to string a few words together.

“You’re so beautiful.” He leaned his arm against the door behind you, pinning you between him and the wood of Mira’s hut. His other hand came up to trace along the length of your neck, his knuckles stopping when they reached your chin.

You felt like you were on fire, your blood running white-hot under your skin, leaving a blushed tint in its wake. You didn’t dare look up at him, afraid you’d melt under his gaze that seemed to bore straight through you. You kept your eyes fixated on the expansion of chest level with your eyes.

“Have you thought about staying?” His fingers gripped your chin, bringing you to look directly at his visor.

“Stay?” You were a little taken back, your voice coming out as a squeak compared to his. “Here?”

“Yes, here.” He chuckled, his voice dropped mocking the whisper in your tone. A smile threatens the corners of your lips and you bite on the inside of your cheek to stop the spread. He thought it was entertaining, watching you become giddy under his attention. You turned to look just past his shoulder, willing the flush you felt on your face and neck to subside. You had wanted his attention and now you had it but you were failing miserably at being anything but at his mercy.

“Do you like it here?” He said sensing your hesitation, forcing you to focus on him again.

“Yes, of course.” It was true, you enjoyed your time. But to stay? What place did you have here? They had made you feel so welcome but you were an outsider and you had yet to offer any contribution to their way of life. You had felt better than you had in years. Like a familiar version of yourself had taken over again, replenishing the life you so desperately tried to find before. It felt invigorating but you knew it couldn't last forever, and with your injuries in the final stages of healing, you knew that time was coming to an end.

“Then stay.” His voice was firm but held a sort of gentleness that made your heart flip in your ribcage.

He grabbed your hand, leading your palm to rest in the middle of his chest. Your fingers instinctively spread over the warmth of his skin, he interlocked his fingers with yours, effectively trapping your hand behind his.

You couldn’t see his face, but it felt as if you were staring right into his soul. You imagined the depth and piercing look of his eyes. You imagined they were just like the rest of him, fierce and intriguing but with a softness hid behind them. Mesmerizing you and making you want nothing more than to fall deep in their hypnosis. You wanted to kiss him, to feel him against you, flesh and bone to be explored by your fingertips. You wanted to be encased totally by him, to drown in the warmth he exuded, to feel nothing but him for the rest of your days.

With a newfound boldness, you slipped your hand away from his slowly trailing down the center of his chest. The pads of your fingers moved over the toned muscle of his chest, doing exactly what you had daydreamed about since you met him. His skin was a beautiful tanned color with scars scattered, telling the story of his battles. You traced a few, fingers delicately moving across the raised skin. You felt his breath released from behind his helmet, so quiet you may have not noticed if it weren't for the rise and fall of his chest. You continued your movements, traveling down until you met the trail of hair that peeked out from his trousers. He abruptly grabbed your wrist, a groan filtering through to your ears. His grip was firm, stopping your actions but being careful not to hurt you.

“You should get some rest.” His voice was so low, gravelly, barely registering with the voice coder of his helmet. He released his grip, moving your hand back to your side.

You were afraid you had fucked up, misreading him and crossing some forbidden line. Shame flooded your mind, causing your gaze to drift to your feet. He reached up to your face, pushing the hair that fell in your face back, revealing the timid look that fell on your features. He held his palm against your face for just a moment longer than necessary. As his hand fell from your face, you were back to staring into the darkness of his visor, surprised by the tenderness of his actions.

“Goodnight,” He whispered, turning back to walk down the steps, leaving you stunned and missing his warmth.

“Goodnight.”

—————

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handonshipper · 3 years

Text

If I Knew Then What I Know Now: Chapter Three

Hope headed downstairs after putting her father to sleep. The voices in her head caused by the Hollow were getting to her. It was getting harder and harder to manage. The most relief she had gotten since she took in the Hollow's magic again was when she was spending time with the waiter from the Mystic Grill, Landon Kirby, yesterday. Something about being around him was different. A little distracting at least. But she was dangerous to be around right now, and she knew it. Which was why she did not consider going to find him.

The tribrid wondered what exactly the waiter was doing in New Orleans, her home town. Was it merely a coincidence or something more? She felt drawn to trust Landon and felt comfortable around him, but she had also recently been betrayed by Roman, her ex boyfriend, which resulted in her mother's death. At the thought of this, the voices grew, and she struggled to ignore them. She breathed out slowly and entered Rousseau's bar. "Declan, hey, I need a favor from the bar." Suddenly her body froze as she spotted a familiar face, her anger flaring up again. Elijah Mikaelson. Her uncle. "What are you doing here? Killing my mom wasn't enough? Now you've come for Declan?"

"That's not what I'm here for." Elijah disagreed, but Hope didn't care. She just wanted to be angry at him. To not let her own guilt sink in. It was painful enough the brief moment it had while she was with Landon. It was easier for her to be angry with Elijah instead of facing all of it. And the voices in her head certainly weren't helping.

"He killed her" Declan said, stunned.

"That's not what happened." Elijah defended

"No, but if you weren't there, she'd still be alive." Hope said, and her rage fueled the voices, causing then only to get louder and louder. She clutched her head. "Stop! God, stop!"

"What's going on with you?" Declan asked, confused and concerned at what was happening to her. He moved to go towards her but stopped as Elijah grabbed his arm.

"Stop! Shut up! Shut up!" Hope shouted. Their voices certainly weren't helping the situation.

"What did you do?" Declan interrogated Elijah. Elijah grabbed him by the neck and pinned him up against the bar.

"Hey, don't hurt him!" Hope said, moving closer, momentarily distracted from the voices by the scene before her.

"I won't. We can't do this in front of him."

"Okay, fine." She waved her hand and put Declan to sleep. The human then fell to the floor. "Now it's just the two of us."

"My memory was gone. I didn't know who she was."

Considering everything the tribrid was feeling at the moment, that wasn't a good enough excuse. "Well, now you do. How does it feel?"

"Like the worst pain I've ever experienced."

The whispers got more intense in her head, and she put her hands on her head and looked around a little, trying to force away the voices. She lowered her hands and looked at her uncle. "I hate you."

"I hate me, too." Elijah said, self loathing obvious in his eyes.

Hope knew she shouldn't blame him, but right now she needed to be angry with someone, and it was easy to be angry with him. "You let her die." In a flash of rage, consumed by emotions and the hollow's magic, Hope waved a hand, cutting him magically repeatedly as though she was clawing into him until he collapsed

"Hope" spoke a familiar voice, but the tribrid didn't give herself a chance to process who the voice belonged to. In a flash of rage, she waved her hand back and caused a deep gash across the person that entered. "Hope" the voice repeated, though now it had a groan, and the tribrid suddenly realized who the voice belonged to.

Landon Kirby.

Landon was walking down the street as he thought about everything that happened. He wanted to make sure Hope was alright. He hadn't seen her since the day before. But he also did not want to interact with her, no matter how much he wanted to. He knew that he was no longer the same Landon Kirby he had been before he melted into a pile of goo. Before he had been sent to Malivore and lived what felt like years in complete isolation, Before he had to fight monsters in the prison world to survive.

He knew he was darker, fought with both brawn and brain. He attacked first and didn't let himself worry about the consequences. He just needed to fight and kill. That had been his mindset for the past several weeks since he got out of Malivore. And now he was here, surrounded by people.... It was a lot, and he wasn't sure that he could manage it well enough not to end up being a burden on Hope or anyone else.

Suddenly, he heard Hope's voice from inside Rousseau's as he neared it. "Stop! Shut up! Shut up! Hey, don't hurt him!" There was a little bit of a pause "You let her die!"

A concerned Landon Kirby stepped into Rousseau's and called out her name to get her attention. "Hope" Suddenly, without really paying attention to who it was, Hope waved a hand back. Suddenly, a large gash cut across Landon's chest magically, and he stumbled back a bit, leaning against the wall as blood started soaking his shirt. "Hope" he repeated, groaning a little in pain. This wasn't a wound he could exactly stitch up.

"Landon?" Hope questioned, her eyes widening in horror at what she had done. "Oh god" she said as Landon slowly slid to the ground, putting pressure to his own wound. She grabbed something sharp from nearby and cut her palm. "Here, drink this", she said, putting it near his mouth but not on it.

Landon shook his head, not wanting to risk being sent back to Malivore. He wasnt sure what exactly happened. But he also didn't want to take any chances.

"It can heal you. Drink" Hope said, looking at him, her eyes wide in concern.

Landon shook his head again. "Not you" he said, forcing back a groan of pain

A hurt expression flickered across her face, and she moved her hand away. He could see her wound closing up. Her uncle, Elijah, was healing from his own wounds at the moment.

"Hope. What happened?" Klaus questioned, walking inside the bar.

"I uh. I attacked Elijah, and Landon came in. And I accidentally hurt him too" Hope said. "And he's refusing to drink my blood. I don't know why. I told him it would help"

Klaus walked over and bit his own wrist before feeding it to Landon forcefully. Landon drank some of the hybrid's blood. He coughed some of it up, anxious about how vampire blood would affect him. But the blood already started to heal him. His eyes drifted shut and Landon lost consciousness.

Hope was pacing downstairs in the Mikaelson home, trying to keep herself calm and have as much control over the whispers as she could. It had died down after she hurt Elijah. The pain wasn't as bad as it had been before. But she knew it was only temporary. She looked up as her father came downstairs after putting Landon.

"How is he?" She asked immediately.

"He's alright, just sleeping. He's getting a bit feverish, but it's mild." Klaus said, looking at his daughter. "Who is he?"

"His name is Landon, and he's human. He, uh, he used to serve me milkshakes at the Mystic Grill. He took a trip here. I'm not sure how long he is staying. He says it depends on if he has reasons to stay."

"What was that? You won't take my help, you reject the bracelet, you're throwing Elijah around" Klaus said, looking at his daughter with worry.

"It stopped the voices." the tribrid admitted, trying not to sound as vulnerable as she felt.. She had all of this power and she knew it was killing her. And the voices were so intense, part of her wanted to scream and take out all of New Orleans to feel better.. But she didn't want to hurt people. She never wanted that. It was why she worked hard to control her magic so she never used too much. Never used more than necessary for a given occasion. Though she hadn't exactly been following her own rules lately.

Her father looked at her, stunned "What?"

"Ever since I took the power back, the whispers... I can't think, I can't sleep, I can't even breathe. But right now, it's silent. Is this the rest of my life? A rage that can only be quieted by violence?"

"Hope, if violence is what you need to feel better, then you have the perfect father. We'll handle this. In the meantime, you should probably keep your distance from your friend. Landon"

"I was thinking the same thing." Hope said, looking at him. "Thank you for bringing him here and making sure he was alright."

"You're welcome" Klaus said.

"I saw Landon yesterday" she said, trying to talk to him before the voices grew too loud again. "We talked for a bit, and I showed him around New Orleans"

"You could manage it? The voices?"

"It was... I don't know, easier around him. I can't explain it. It was still there and bothersome but it wasn't as bad. I have no idea why" Hope said as she followed her father upstairs to her room. "I thought I could handle it. I really did."

"You're handling it as best you can, and I'm gonna be here with you every step of the way." Klaus promised as he looked at his daughter.

"Will you stay with me awhile?"

"Of course I will. So do you like this boy?"

Hope was silent for a moment, but she was grateful for the focus on Landon instead of the voices constantly in her head. "Even if I did, it doesn't matter"

"What makes you say that?" Klaus questioned curiously.

"My last love interest betrayed me. I dont think I am exactly the right person to be dating"

"The first person I was truly involved with is currently under a sleeping spell in this very building." Klaus pointed out with a slight smile. "Do you like this boy"

"Yes. But I can't think about a relationship" Hope said. She never would be able to. She could feel herself dying. It wasnt fair to him. It wouldn't be fair to get involved with anyone while she was dying. Though she couldnt exactly say that to her father. "He's human. Our family gets ourselves involved in a lot of dangerous situations. And mom just-" She shook her head

"Your mother would want you to be happy"

"I know she would." the tribrid said simply but she had already made up her mind. She wanted Landon to be safe. Not be killed like Camille, Hayley, Jackson, and many others had been while close to their family. If he was genuinely as nice of a guy as he seemed, then she definitely didn't want to ruin his life, which is probably exactly what she would do if her family got involved with him. Invaded his life. He already got hurt because of her. Hope wasn't sure she could avoid that happening again if he didn't leave.

Hope was confused on why he was pushing her to be in a relationship, especially after how he reacted whenever anyone else got in a relationship. However, after looking at him for a moment, she recognized the reasoning from his expression. He wanted her to have hope. To find something to live for and to look forward to. Something to fight for besides family.

#legacies #cw legacies #legacies cw #hope mikaelson #landon kirby #klaus mikaelson #legacies fanfic #legacies fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #handon #hope x landon #landon x hope #If I Knew Then #if i knew then what i know now #if i knew then chapter three #if i knew then what i know now chapter three

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 4 years

Text

Snowed In

Y'all, the quarantine hit hard. This fic is 100% self serving but I'm posting it in case it makes anyone else feel better? To add some spicy self loathing to my day? who knows.

No legit pairings, a tiny bit of hinting angstiness, for the sake of form, Geralt x fem!reader

Warnings: defs big warning for anxiety and depression. I don't think there's anything else? Lmk if there is and I'll edit this.

__________

“Snowed in?” you repeated, having just packed everything up and saddled both Roach and your horse Beau.

Geralt nodded grimly, “We’ll just have to hope Jaskier hears of the weather before he tries to make it here. The mail carrier is refusing to ride the pass.”

You heaved your saddlebags down with a slightly over dramatic grunt before turning to face him, “Is it a passing storm or do they think it’s headed for us?”

He shrugged and began untacking Roach, “You’ll have to ask the innkeeper. I just heard from someone who was turned back.”

You both finished putting the horses back in their stalls, throwing a little extra hay over the side in case you didn’t want to face the cold after dinner. The innkeeper looked frantic, attempting to deal with about five angry customers, so you headed for the connected tavern instead. In your experience, bartenders knew more scuttlebutt anyway.

Surprisingly you two were the only ones in the bar. The pretty blonde poured the two of you a beer and slapped a loaf of bread down between you before you could utter a word of request. Something rather unusual since traveling with Geralt.

“How long do you think this will last?” you asked, handing the woman a couple of gold coins.

She shrugged, “Last year it was mild. Just a week I think? But the year before that the town was stuck for almost a month.”

“Hm- huh? What day is it?” you mumbled as Geralt shook you awake.

“Twenty-three. Get up.” He ordered. The process had become routine. The two of you were stuck in a rather small room together due to overcrowding and you weren’t handling the idle time very well.

Geralt seemed completely content to meditate by the fire and meticulously repair his armor for the rest of eternity. While you had quickly become catatonic.

You sat up only because you knew he would lift you out of the bed completely if you didn’t do it yourself, “Ah yes, what a beautiful day to feed the horses and drink our weight in ale.”

The sarcasm dripping from your voice only earned a stern look from your roommate. The inn had run out of the drinkable stuff last week and they were rationing little the piss water they had left.

You scratched at your hair, your hand recoiling at the feel of grease. There was nothing to do, the floor space between the bed and the fire was barely big enough for Geralt to sit cross-legged, let alone for you to do any sort of exercise to keep your mood up. Not that you would if you could anyway. Any motivation to keep some sort of normalcy had left your body around day ten. The innkeeper had let some guests spar in the lobby around day six but everyone scattered when you had attempted to join. Something about ‘the witcher’s girl’ and how ‘she might gut you out of habit’. People could be stupid, you weren’t a witcher any more than they were and even so, Geralt was calmer and more restrained than all of them combined.

So, embracing the numbness, you stayed in bed well into the afternoon and long after Geralt had left his side of the bed.

“Did I miss breakfast again?” you asked, not making a move to get any farther from your warm blankets.

Geralt nodded, pointing to the small table near the door where some bread, cheese, and dried meat sat waiting.

You picked at it for his benefit, though you hadn’t really been hungry for a few days now. The storm raging outside was just about as strong as the one raging through your hollow insides. This inaction, the unknowing, the vulnerability was killing you.

“Y/N, you need to eat more than the crumbs.” Geralt urged, moving to sit in the chair opposite to you.

“I tried.” You sighed, “Can’t I just lay back down?”

He shook his head, “No. You’re letting this consume you. You’re tougher than this.”

You scowled at him, wanting to throw the bread in his face, “Fuck you. Nothing bothers you.”

“Your behavior is bothering me.” he countered, staring at you with a mix of worry and annoyance.

“Well isn’t that touching.” You sighed in mock flattery. Abandoning any idea of food, you got up to sit by the fire, poking at it aggressively with an iron rod and making a point to face away from him.

“What in the spheres is your problem?” He growled.

“Being stuck here with nothing to do?” you offered, your tone reminiscent of the young spoiled princess the two of you had saved from a wraith a few months back.

“That’s not it. I know when you’re lying Y/N”

Your limbs felt like they might float away into the air if you didn’t curl up into a ball, “I don’t want to talk about it Geralt. I’m sorry for snapping. I just need a couple of minutes.”

“You’ve needed ‘a couple of minutes’ for the past two weeks. Time to talk.” he argued.

You snorted, “That’s rich coming from you. You didn’t tell me you’d been stabbed until right before you passed out in Temeria.”

“I’ve tried learning from my mistakes.” his tone was one of convincing the both of you, “What's bothering you? Really.”

“I don’t fucking know Geralt.” you hissed, getting very tired of his prying.

You heard him sit back and cross his arms, “Not good enough.”

You felt the words leave your throat before you could think of their meaning, spewing out with vitriol and fire, “I’m fucking tired. I’m tired of you telling me what to do. I’m tired of watching snow pile up out the damn window. I’m tired of the stupid couple that fucks all night next door. I’m tired of this worry that feels like it will rip me apart at any fucking moment from just not fucking knowing. I’m tired of worrying about Jaskier. I’m tired of worrying about the horses getting stocked up when there’s nothing I can do to help them. I’m tired of the glares from the other guests. I’m tired of feeling powerless. I’m tired of having no decent outlet for this anxious energy I’m stuck with. I’m tired of not knowing when this feeling will go away. And I’m absolutely fucking exhausted by the thought that it’s only been twenty-fucking-three days yet I feel I’ve been trapped here for a god-damned-eternity.”

The last sentence broke your resolve to stay angry. Upon pushing the last words from your lungs, you heaved a deep breath and let the sobs tear your chest apart, giving in to the hopelessness that had been building for weeks now.

You heard a shuffling that registered in the back of your mind as Geralt sitting behind you, but even so, you flinched when a hand rested on your shoulders. He scooped one hand under your knees and pulled you onto his lap, pulling a blanket from the bed and wrapping it around the two of you. He let you sob until the sobs turned to whimpers.

“I didn’t realize, I’m sorry Y/N” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your hair, sending a flood of warmth to your cheeks.

“You don’t need to be.” you croaked, leaning into his affection.

“I didn’t need to pry either.” He argued.

You just hummed in reply, too much of your energy spent on purging your system of those hideous sobs. You did make a noise of protest when he lifted you from his lap and set you beside him on the floor.

“Stay by the fire, I’ll be back.” He instructed, the tenderness of his voice surprising you.

Minutes later, as you were beginning to pull yourself back together, he returned with a terry cloth robe and what smelled like fresh jasmine soap. Without a word, he hoisted you into his arms and carried you across the room to the bathroom. He set you on your feet and handed you the robe and soap before turning his attention to the lever pump hanging over the ceramic tub.

“A bath?” You tried to bring your usual playful tone back to life and failed miserably.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?”

You shook your head, “I’m just…” slightly disoriented? you finished the sentence in your head, not sure how to phrase it.

“Not used to anyone accommodating your emotions.” he finished, a knowing look in his eyes reminding you just how much he knew of isolation and pain.

As you nodded you had to mentally remind yourself you have to let people help you, that it’s okay to let people help you.

You didn’t bother waiting for him to leave before you peeled off your riding breeches. Melitele only knows how long you’d gone without changing them. You had more trouble unlacing the cinched waist blouse you’d been wearing the last four days. The restless tossing and turning you’d done instead of sleeping had it knotted four times over. When you’d finally rid yourself of every last thread the tub was full.

Geralt traced a sign in the water, sending ripples over the surface and steam up in the air, “Shouldn’t be too hot, but test it first.” He mumbled, making an effort not to stare at you too long.

It was rather hot but you had exposed yourself enough for one day. You took the hand he offered for balance and sank into the nearly scalding water without hesitation.

He knelt next to you, “If you wish to be alone-”

“No.” You interrupted, not having the courage to look up at him, “Please don’t go.” The words barely escaped your mouth, but Geralt heard them perfectly fine.

He wet a washcloth and lathered it with soap before handing it off to you. With the rest of the bar, he began washing your hair. At first, his hands were hesitant, as if he was afraid to hurt you. He paused when you gave up scrubbing the sweat and dirt from behind your knees, but only for a moment. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. His nails scratched at the base of your skull, coaxing a sigh from your lips. As he massaged the soap through the tangled mess he took his time with the tension in your temples, then the pressure points behind your ears, even working out the knots in your neck. You did your best not to moan, but a couple of gasps and pleased grunts may have slipped out. He rested a hand between your shoulders and guided you back, dipping your hair into the water to rid it of the froth he’d created.

You peeked up at him through your lashes. If he noticed he didn’t show it. His face was relaxed, almost serene, as he raked his fingers through your hair, gently tugging on the bigger tangles. You hadn’t ever taken the time to look at his eyes before, he seemed uncomfortable over them when you’d met so you left him alone about it. Looking at them now, you regretted it. They were a beautiful mix of honey, sunflowers, and glittering gold. And they were so kind. The idea that people spat at him when they recognized his eyes made your heart ache.

With a slight nudge from him, you sat back up, all the tension in your body having melted in the hot water or under his touch. You pulled your knees to your chest, resting your arms across them and your chin on your arms. The events of the day had you feeling like a child who’d gone too long without a nap being soothed back to sleep. If you were being honest with yourself you missed the feeling of safety that came with someone taking care of you.

Geralt brushed your favorite oils through your hair, doing his best not to pull through knots too roughly, but it was in the same bun for about four days.

You let your tired mind wander as you watched snow fall out the small port window above the tub. The comb had failed to detect any knots in your hair for some time but it seemed Geralt was just as lost in thought as you.

Eventually the water grew cold and you had to accept this couldn’t go on forever.

“I think I might need to get out soon.” you mumbled, inspecting your pruney fingers. Everything in you was telling you to stay. Stay in this safe place with your gentle guardian. But you knew if you didn’t get out soon you’d never warm up, fire or not. Not to mention you knew you were taking Geralt’s actions more to heart than they were meant. He simply felt guilty for pushing you too far.

That didn’t mean you wanted him gone though. You were more than happy to live the lie for a little while longer.

"I'll go check the horses." He offered, placing a towel and the robe within your reach.

"Thank you, Geralt. For not… I don't know? Laughing at me?" You refused to look at him, being vulnerable enough as you already were.

"Y/N…" he said your name like it meant something but you couldn't figure out what, "You never have to thank me. I owe you so much more than a hot bath and kind words."

You turned your head to argue but when you saw his expression the words died on your tongue. All you could offer in response was a small smile.

It seemed to be enough for him and he nodded before disappearing through the door, leaving you to ponder what he'd meant.

_________

Part 2 here!

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