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suwya · 4 years ago

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Till the Stars Had Run Away - Prologue

Summary: Killian Jones was a voyager. Actually, he was many things, or at least he had been - a lieutenant, a brother, a loving boyfriend - until everything had turned upside down and his life had hit an all time low. So, he gave up. Aboard his spaceship he abandoned Arcadia, his planet, navigating the stars and other solar systems in search of... well, he still didn't know what he was searching for, but his rule was "never remain in the same place longer than necessary."

Rating: M

AO3

A/N: I started to write this story two years ago, but I never found the courage to post it. Until something happened.

I read some of the brilliant fanfics written by @thisonesatellite, and commenting them with her, gave me the pleasure to getting to know this amazing person. She is the reason why this fic sees the light of the day. And she is also my beta: I will be forever thankful to her for all the help she gives me, I owe her so much!

Happy birthday Stephanie! I hope you’re having a wonderful day, because you deserve the best!

Prologue.

And a softness came

from the starlight

and filled me full

to the bone.

(W. B. Yeats)

Fucking ice bitch is not so icy after all. Killian thought while he was crossing the Royal Palace's limits. And yes, he was probably drunk, but not enough to forget that he didn't want to stay on this ridiculous planet another day more than necessary. He needed to repair his ship and fly far, far away from here as soon as he could. He would be damned if he didn't.

***

Eight full moons before.

The room was too bright for his liking; it was big, neat and decorated with minimalist furniture, just a double bed with a couple of night stands.

Killian shook his head; this was a mistake, a huge mistake, one that would pester his soul for the rest of his life. He knew better. Why am I even here? He thought. Oh, yes, because of the bloody money. If there was any chance to leave this damn place, this was it. He needed the money to repair his ship.

Killian Jones was a voyager. Actually, he was many things, or at least he had been - a lieutenant, a brother, a loving boyfriend - until everything had turned upside down and his life had hit an all time low. So, he gave up. Aboard his spaceship he abandoned Arcadia, his planet, navigating the stars and other solar systems in search of... well, he still didn't know what he was searching for, but his rule was "never remain in the same place longer than necessary."

When a rock had collided with his ship, Killian had made a forced landing. New Tolemac seemed a quiet place to lie low for a while, at least at the beginning. But, the ins and outs of the Royal Government of this planet weren't aligned with his philosophy. Long ago he had sworn to himself to serve no king and live by his own rules.

There were only two things that stood between him and his next destination: A new gimbal block for the engine of his ship, and the money to purchase it.

He stood at the end of the bed pondering over the best outfit for the occasion. He wasn't exactly attending a Royal Gala, this was a commercial trade... sort of.

In the end, he stuck with his usual attire: a black vest over a dark grey long sleeved shirt, black jeans, and boots. He was in contrast to the place he was staying. Everything was white: the blankets, the walls, the pavement, even the door.

He didn't flinch when that door suddenly opened. “Here we go.” He said to himself and tried to put on his best poker face.

Through the door frame, he could spot three figures. Two of them were Royal Guards with black and maroon uniforms, helmets hiding their faces, and the characteristically rounded blades around their waists. Killian wished he had his automatic harpoon with him as well, but of course, no foreign arms were allowed inside the confines of the Royal Palace.

The third person of the group was a lithe, young girl with straight blond hair tied in a complex braid. She was wearing an elegant but simple white dress with thin straps that was long enough to hide her feet. She was the only one who entered the room; the guards closed the door behind her.

So this is the famous Princess Emma, Killian thought. Well, she was beautiful, indeed, and young, so very young. Nobody had ever seen the Princess in public, not the common people at least. Raised by the Royal Family in the utmost secrecy, she had never crossed the barriers of the Palace and its gardens. Protected like the most precious treasure in existence, she held the future of the entire planet in her hands.

And that was exactly why Killian was in that room with her.

She stopped a few steps in front of him, her chin raised and her arms crossed in front of her, in what Killian would have defined as the typical arrogant Royal attitude.

"Let’s do it quickly. I have a pretty busy schedule today," she stated.

"Well, that's a shame, Princess, because I do like to take my time around a woman."

"We are not here because of what you like," she replied. "During the last few weeks, you have been thoroughly tested by a highly professional medical team, and you've been selected as the most capable for the role, and that is what matters to get the most satisfying result," she explained in an unsentimental tone.

"Capable sounds good, but it's probably not the adjective I would choose to describe myself." Killian tilted his head and hooked his right thumb in one of the loops of his belt, then made a step towards her invading her personal space. His flirty innuendos usually had a certain effect on women. "Regarding the satisfying results…" He added in a low sultry voice "well, love, you don't have to worry about that."

"I'm not worried and I'm definitely not your love," she huffed impatiently and he immediately realized he had not impressed her. "Now, if we are finished with the preliminaries, I'd rather get to the point," she added, indicating the bed near them. "As I said before I have a busy schedule. Some people have responsibilities."

"Believe me, Princess, I haven't even started with the preliminaries." He grinned, blinking at her.

"Mr. Jones..." she started what seemed to be a petulant comeback, but he lifted a hand to stop her.

"Killian will do," he smiled. “Or Captain, if you prefer something more formal.”

"Whatever." She went on, "let me make this clear: you're expendable. You're here just because you were the first name on the list, but that doesn't mean that I can't discharge you and choose the second one."

Killian remembered who the ‘second one’ was. Some bloke full of bullshit named Cassidy, whom he had met while waiting for a test to run. The thought of that piece of work and this beautiful young lady in the same room sent an unexpected shiver down his spine. He suddenly felt like he had to protect her, but why? "Oh, but you won't, because Royals never settle for second best. Besides, you don't intimidate me, Princess. I believe you're the one who's going to lose here." Confidence had always been his most effective weapon.

"You're so full of yourself, but at the end of the day I will fulfill my duty. You, on the other hand, will end up with no reward at all. And I've heard the paycheck is quite alluring. Wasn't that why you applied in the first place?" Damn woman, he thought. She knew how to push his buttons.

Something about the Princess captivated him but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He studied her. She was guarded, she clearly didn’t want him to look through her barriers. But it wasn’t all due to her status, it seemed more of a protective measure.

He decided it was time to stop with his demeanor; he shouldn't have even started from the beginning. What was he thinking? Flirting with a girl so young. But innuendos and suggestive remarks had always been his coping mechanisms in a thorny situation.

A muscle clenched in his jaw and with a more serious tone of voice he asked, "How old are you?"

"Excuse me?" Her eyes widened for a brief moment. She looked him up and down as if she was wondering who he was exactly.

The fleeting crack in her stance she had just shown him confirmed to Killian that there was much more behind those pompous Royal walls of hers. "You are way too young. How old are you?" He insisted.

"Not much younger than you are." The Princess put her hands on her hips and immediately stepped back. Her posture was rigid, her mouth set in a firm thin line, her eyes cold and challenging.

"Appearances can be deceiving. I'm quite a lot older than you can imagine. I’m not from here, and I’ve been in many lands where time runs differently."

She seemed to consider his words for a few seconds. "I'm seventeen." She answered, but before he could react she went on to explain,“and tonight the three moons of New Tolemac will align with the northern star, which makes the best scenario for me to conceive a Royal Heir.”

“This is the most preposterous nonsense I've ever heard.” Killian knew what he was supposed to do in that room, but this was insane. The girl was only seventeen years old, she had a whole life in front of her.

"I don't expect you to understand. As you said, you're from another planet. In this realm, we follow the rules. And my parents raised me to be a reliable part of the Royal Family, who in spite of my age can assume the responsibilities of a pregnancy, and consequently raise a child to be our future King."

"The same sweet dear parents that locked you up in a room to be fucked by the first random guy of the week, I presume?"

"It's not locked. I can go out whenever I want." She answered in the same pragmatic tone with which she had been speaking the whole time.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing, how could she agree to these methods? But maybe, if it was true that she had been raised for this purpose, the King and Queen had probably done everything in their power to not let her think otherwise. "But you won't." He stated as a matter of fact.

"Of course, I won't. I'm here to fulfill my duties." She replied, and it didn't slip by him that it was the second time she had used the exact same words, as if they were a memorized speech.

“Oh, come on, don't tell me you've never imagined a grandiloquent wedding.” He tried to tease her.

“I will marry a suitable candidate when the right time comes, but it's definitely not on my agenda at the moment.” She explained as if it was the most obvious thing in all the worlds.

“A suitable candidate? No knight in shining armor who will rescue you from your miserable existence?”

“I'm no damsel in distress, Captain Jones.” She answered, emphasizing his rank, “I don't need to be rescued.”

“What about love?” He needed to probe her limits, to know what was behind her walls.

“Love is overrated. We are at war. There's no time for such trivialities.”

That surprised him. “I had no idea New Tolemac was at war.”

“Maybe not right now, but the Lepka Industry is pushing forward, and we all know the consequences.”

Killian definitely knew something about those consequences. I've seen with my own eyes what that monster is capable of. He thought to himself. Invading a peaceful planet and depleting all the resources until it ends up imploding with no safe getaway for its inhabitants. It was a painful memory he had spent years trying to avoid and eventually forget. “I’m well aware of The Industry’s methods.”

“Then, you of all people should understand the importance of some good defensive measures.”

“But The Industry is very far from here.” He wasn’t sure why the Government of this planet was so intimidated by a faraway menace.

“For now. But we have to be prepared for every possibility. And the population will need their rightful ruler when the time comes.” The Princess explained. “So, if everything is clear, I'd like to get started.” She added.

Killian stared at her. He was starting to understand. She seemed so young and somehow vulnerable, but behind that fragile appearance she was a tough lass, and he liked it. Still, he believed that this was a terrible mistake. “I'm not going to touch you.”

“What?” She asked outraged. “This is not what you've signed on for.”

Killian shrugged. “I've changed my mind.”

“Why?” She inquired with wide open eyes, and he couldn’t decide if she was shocked by his refusal to follow an order, or if it was the rejection that was hurting her.

He stepped forward, and now they were so close he could spot some golden flecks in her emerald eyes. “Because no woman in any land should be treated like this, no matter how noble the reasons are.” He almost whispered.

“I'm not being treated in any way.” She replied in the same low voice. “This is my choice and my duty. My planet needs an heir that will be able to lead it.”

“You are the heir.” He stated and made a step back. Then, he lifted a hand to his head as if he was suddenly remembering something and added in a mocking way, “But oh, I forgot, you're a woman, which means that you can't govern because of some stupid rules.”

“You don't understand.” She hissed through her teeth, now clearly annoyed. “This is the only chance I have to save my people.”

“Well, then, do whatever you have to do, savior, but not with me.” Killian bowed to let her clear that the conversation was over from his point of view. “Sorry Princess, but as appealing as it may look, I'm not going to have sex with you.”

"You're wasting my time!” She didn’t raise her voice, but she definitely looked furious now. “Guards!” She shouted, and when the door opened she ordered: “escort this man outside the Palace's boundaries."

***

Eight full moons after.

Taverns in New Tolemac were scarce, leisure activities were not banned, but not happily welcomed either. The Crimson Crown was probably the worst tavern Killian had set foot in, and he had been in many of them. A band was trying to lighten the atmosphere, but the music was awful and the acoustics even worse. Killian didn't mind; his gaze fixed on the bottle he was grabbing. The glass long forgotten, he was swirling the amber liquid inside, or what was left of it. His senses were with him: the cold crystal in his hand, the out of tune string in his ears, the sour taste in his mouth; but his mind, his mind was in a place very, very far from where he was sitting.

"In which galaxy are you right now?"

He had completely zoned out and forgotten he had company. "Come again?" He tried to focus on the presence beside him.

"What's bothering you? And don't tell me it's nothing, 'cause that look on your face speaks volumes."

Robin was his best friend, his only friend would be more exact to say. He wasn't from around here either, but he had been living in New Tolemac for much longer than Killian. The two of them had known each other since Killian had landed on this damned planet.

Two foreigners, two lonely souls with no attachments, maybe that's why they connected so easily.

But Killian was in no mood for conversation, not tonight. He was going to finally leave this planet once and for all: he had bought the last piece he needed to fix the engine of his spaceship first thing in the morning. A couple of days more just to arrange everything and he would pack his things and fly away.

He had asked Robin to go with him, to search for a better life in a more hospitable place, and his friend eagerly accepted the invitation. They had ended up in that tavern to celebrate it. Killian should have been euphoric. But his guts were clenching. Why wasn’t he so happy to leave as he was supposed to be?

Nine months had passed since his unfortunate landing. So many more than those he would have stayed if he had had the chance to leave. Eight months since the day he met the Princess.

No, no, no. He thought, shaking his head. Don't let your mind go down that path again. He warned himself.

Killian drew the bottle up his lips, but a hand stopped his movement.

"Easy. Don't you think you've had enough for tonight?"

"There's no such a thing as enough alcohol." He grunted, but the hand didn't relent. "Fuck off, Robin!" He exclaimed.

"Your enchanting behavior doesn't work with me." Robin retorted ironically. "Come on, let's get out of this place." He added tugging at Killian's arm.

The air outside was thick and humid. "Bloody summer" Killian cursed while stumbling over a little rock. As he regained balance he realized that maybe his friend was right, and even if he could hold his rum, he might have had too many drinks.

They walked silently side by side for a while, since one of the perks of having a best friend is that you don't need to entertain the other person all the time. So Killian's mind started meandering through a road he had tried to avoid just a few minutes before.

"It's completely bad form." He exclaimed eventually.

"What is?" Robin asked, probably taken a little aback at his abrupt words.

"I just wanted to help her. Why didn't she accept my help?" Killian went on without many further explications.

"Wha...?" Robin started to ask, but then realization clearly struck him. "After all these months why are you still thinking about her?"

"Fucking ice bitch." Killian cursed.

"I beg your pardon?" Robin was having problems in following his friend's thoughts.

"It's the moniker I chose for her, don't you think it's accurate?" The other said as if it was the most obvious thing.

Robin shook his head. "It's not like you to talk this way about a woman. You must be really wasted." And after a moment of silence, each of them lost in their own inner world, Robin asked: "Are you sure you can get home safely by yourself?"

Killian stopped and realized that they had arrived at a crossroad where their paths back home diverged. "I'm fine, mate." He replied with a little persuading smile.

"I'll call you in the morning... or not. You tend to be a bit irritable when you're hungover."

"Good night to you, too." Killian answered back ironically. And they went separate ways.

The night was still young, at least for Killian's standards, so he decided to walk a bit more, clear his mind, and his feet brought him near the water. The sound of the ocean waves crashing into the shore had always calmed him.

He inhaled deeply the salted breeze and for a while he just stood there staring into the horizon that was clearly visible due to the bright light of the three full moons. After a while lost in his thoughts, he was almost ready to call it a night when he noticed a presence not far from where he was standing.

Someone was sitting on a large rock in a meditative position with straight back and crossed legs, hands resting on the knees. It was the Princess, as if she had somehow materialized from his thoughts. But how could it possibly be?

Maybe he had already passed out and was now dreaming, he thought, or maybe he was simply hallucinating because of the high level of alcohol in his veins. Otherwise, he would never have trespassed the Palace's limits without being aware of it, which could only mean problems.

He should turn back home, he knew it. But as a moth is attracted by a flame, he was drawn by her. While approaching her silhouette, he could make out her closed eyes.

He didn’t mean to startle her, so he cleared his throat to announce his presence. The Princess opened only one eye; if she was surprised to see him she didn’t show it. “I’m trying to concentrate.” She closed her eye again and went on with whatever she was doing.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” He asked nonchalantly, disregarding her statement.

“Do you need help finding your way back home, Mr. Jones? From the smell that precedes you, I assume you may not have realized that you entered a property where you’re not welcome.” She said without changing her position.

“You remember me! It’s always a pleasure to know I did a good impression!” He exclaimed cheerfully. “I mean, it’s quite some time we haven’t come across each other.” But after a deeper glimpse at her, he realized that the curves of her dress weren’t the result of the breeze. She was very much pregnant. "And you clearly let that bastard fuck you." The words left his mouth before he could even think about them.

She didn’t move, didn’t even open her eyes. He hadn’t exactly approached her with the intention to start an argument, but now that the cards were already on the table, there was no point in going back on his words, so he went on. "Of course you couldn't disappoint mom and daddy. But let me tell you one thing, no mother or father would ever do something like that to their own daughter.”

She was making an effort ignoring him if the sudden increase in her breathing rhythm was a hint, but that was all he obtained from her. “Don't you see it?” Killian insisted. “They are not some loving parents, you're just a pawn in their hands. They don't have a legitimate heir to the throne, because, oh what a shame, you are a girl! So they raised you just to give them what they've ever wanted: a boy."

He knew he was hurting her. She hadn't moved a muscle during his speech, but he saw her bottom lip trembling in spite of her efforts to remain untouched. Nevertheless, he couldn’t give a damn. He had nothing to lose at this point. At least she would listen to everything he had needed to tell her since the day he left the Palace eight months before.

"Do you really think they will let you take care of your child? Don't be so naive. They will probably discard you as soon as you give birth. They have locked you inside this prison for all your life, a shiny beautiful cage, that is, but still a prison. You don't have a life of your own. They didn’t let anyone near you. Nobody knows you, and nobody will care about you when you will be expendable."

At those words she finally opened her eyes and if looks could kill he would be instantly dead. She was angry, he could see that, probably furious with him, but there was more, her eyes had become a little watery and a turmoil of feelings was passing through them, he could read it. He held a hand up and didn't let her speak "No need to call the guards this time. I'm going to walk myself out of this miserable place with great pleasure."

Fucking ice bitch is not so icy after all. He thought while crossing the Royal Palace's limits. And yes, he was probably drunk, but not enough to forget that he didn't want to stay on this ridiculous planet another day more than necessary. He needed to repair his ship and fly far, far away from here as soon as he could. He would be damned if he didn't.

#cs ff #cs au #Till the Stars Had Run Away #alternate universe - science fiction #space au #my writing

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raccdog · 5 years ago

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UNHEALTHY COPING MECHANISMS (PART 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

(Quick notice: I’m not tagging as many people from now on as I was doing before because it takes so long -previously tagged will keep being tagged don’t worry,- if you want to keep up with the updates please just follow me or the tag #unhealthy coping mechanisms or #UCM. Just know that your support is super appreciated and motivates me a lot! I always try to check all notes so don’t be shy and leave a comment, critique, theory, or simply ask, my asks are open! Thank you again for all the support guys. Now onto the juice)

Fuck Hawkmoth. That was the only thing Chat Noir was able to chant inside his head. It was late in the evening and the sun had already come down, the Parisian lights having lit up hours ago.

Of course there had to be an akuma today, at this hour, just as he’d been in the middle of a date with Kagami. Well, not exactly a date date. Sure he found Kagami attractive -not because of her similarities with Ladybug, he didn’t have a type,- and wanted to spend more time with her. But he couldn’t bring himself to do datey stuff like kissing or embracing each other. He wasn’t ready. He was sure he’d get into it as time went on. That’s how it was for everyone right? They started dating and then developed feelings. At least that’s what he hoped for.

The date was probably ruined by now anyways, having had to ditch Kagami in the cinema’s cafe after the alarm had went off.

A flash of red in the corner of his eyes caught his attention, making his heart do somersault inside his chest. He hated how much power she hold over him. He hated how his emotions did pirouettes because of her. He hated his own traitorous heart the most, for he was trying, really trying hard to move on, but it seemed fruitless every time, a piece of him seemed like it would always belong to her.

He landed on a rooftop, facing the Louvre Museum’s plaza, where the akumatized villain seemed to be causing chaos. Ladybug landed next to him five seconds later.

“Hey Bug-” He bit his tongue. “Hey Ladybug,” he corrected himself. He had to constantly remind himself that pet names weren’t appropriate anymore.

“Hey Chat,” she answered softly. He turned to look at her in concern. Ladybug didn’t use that tone of voice normally. Her mask covered most of her face, but he could still make out the exhaustion in her eyes and pale cheeks.

“You ok Ladybug?” He questioned worriedly. “I’m fine Chat I’ve just been…busy.” She said dismissively. He couldn’t help but frown. He knew his lad- Ladybug like the palm of his hand. She was hiding something and not confiding in him, once again. Ladybug keeping secrets, what a surprise. So shocking. The thought came to him involuntarily, so quickly and full of bitterness he couldn’t stop himself. He needed a break. This week’s events had affected his humor too much. He shook his head, trying to dispel some of the sour mood he found himself in. He knew it was petty of him to think that way. Ladybug wasn’t at fault here, even if he’d like she’d rely more on him.

Another crash and more screams made both heroes focus in the akumatized victim again.

“Ready to kick some akuma butt Ladybug?” He smiled, hoping that his voice sounded more cheery than he felt. A loud boom as he went to stand up made him loose his balance, almost toppling over the side of the roof. He looked at Ladybug once again. She was pulling a weird face.

“I think we’ll need help for this fight.” She admitted.

“But who, Master Fu is MIA and he’s supposed to have the miraculous!”

“Not all of them,” Ladybug started running in the opposite direction. “Distract the akuma Chat, I’ll get help!”

“If it isn’t Dragon-girl!” Chat Noir called when he saw Ryuko landing behind Ladybug. He dodged a shot from the akuma and back-flipped until he was next to the other two superheroines “So what do we do now?” He asked, twirling his baton to repel another shot directed towards them.

“You two try to get closer and keep the akuma distracted,” Ladybug announced. “I’ll call my Lucky Charm from afar and then just follow my lead,” she commanded, zipping away with her yo-yo. Chat turned to see Ryuko, her eyes in complete focus. He had to contain a chuckle. Kagami was always so serious. He did felt bad for ditching her before, he’ll have to apologize. “Looks like it’s just us now Firecracker,” he joked, jumping to the side to evade an attack. Kagami whirled to look at him, surprise and shock written on her face. Shit, he had called her with a nickname. “Don’t call me that ever again,” she growled, narrowly dodging another beam. He couldn’t do it anymore. She was just so much fun to tease. “Sure thing Firecracker,” he smirked, looking at her directly.

“Chat look out!” Then suddenly everything was bright.

“What were you thinking you dumb cat!” Ladybug cried, dropping beside him, akuma purified and the Miraculous Cure performed. “What could possibly be so distracting that you don’t dodge a direct attack to the face?” She screeched, pulling lightly at her pigtails in rage.

He opened his mouth to defend himself but Ryuko spoke before he had the chance to say anything. “Apparently calling me Firecracker,” she growled, brows contorted in rage. Ladybug whipped her head around to look at the dragon hero. “He called you what now?” She asked incredulously. She then turned to glare at him, her eyes seething and grounding him against the concrete tiles on the floor.

“How can you be so irresponsible?” She reproached. “You could have been badly hurt! And for what? Just so you could flirt with someone?” She continued to berate him while pacing. “Also I’m pretty sure Ryuko doesn’t appreciate you calling her pet names just like I told you to stop before!” Chat Noir felt his own eye twitch at her, rage building quickly inside of him.

The heroes the noticed the growing crowd surrounding them. It wouldn’t be long before the press got here.

“Notre Dame in 5 minutes,” she growled to him before facing the other heroine. “Come on Ryuko, follow me,” she directed, whipping out her yo-yo as they both jumped away.

Chat Noir landed briskly on the church’s tower, his previous anger still flaring. When he saw the figure of Ladybug touch down he marched towards her. The look on her face told him he probably should be careful, that he was treading dangerous waters, but at that point he couldn’t care less. The pent up frustrations from the week too much for a hot-headed teenager. He stopped in front of her, so close he could feel her ragged breath on his face as he towered over her. He could tell she was angry too, but he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care. He was angry too.

“What were you thinking,” she started, not moving even as he stood so close. She wasn’t one to back away after all.

“What’s the matter Ladybug,” he sniped. “Jealous?” He saw with satisfaction as her nostrils opened and her eyes narrowed. “You know that’s not what I-”

“I can call her or any girl whatever I want!” He interrupted. “No you can’t if it’s gonna affect your concentration!” She exclaimed. She shoved a red-clad finger in his chest. “Besides, Ryuko already has someone she’s romantically involved with, you shouldn’t even-”

“Does she now,” He cut once again, knowing it drove her up the walls whenever he did so. “Why should I believe you? To me it seems like you are jealous and making things up,” He accused with snide. He was lying through his teeth, he knew. After all, the person Ryuko was involved with was himself. But he couldn’t help it. The satisfaction he found in causing her to react was too great. He knew he’ll probably feel guilty in a few hours after the rage haze had dissipated and he’ll cry himself to sleep but at this point in time he couldn’t think straight.

“I am not! Goddammit Chat I’ve told you time and time again to stop calling me nicknames-”

“Oh I’m stopping alright!” He sneered “I’m not calling you anything other than Ladybug ever again!” He chuckled humorlessly as he hissed right in her face. “You aren’t special anymore, Ladybug.”

He realized he may have acted too cruelly when he saw her flinch, stepping away from him as if he’d electrocuted her. The rapid movement made him catch a whiff of a strange smell coming from her, but he didn’t ponder on it too much as he looked directly at her. Her expression was unreadable and Chat Noir couldn’t decide if that was better or worse. He wanted to apologize but the stubborn pride inside him rebelled at the idea. The sensible part in him knew he had gone too far and wanted to rush to her side, retract what he’d said and hug her.

He didn’t have time to choose on what to do, because she turned around and neared the edge, ready to go, yo-yo in her hand.

“Get some rest, minou,” was the only thing she said, softly, before she zoomed away, leaving him alone on the tower’s roof, her voice weighing as heavily as his heart felt.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

TAGS UNDER THE CUT

@delacz1234 @rocketspunch @shionshetrr @supertomboyprincess @mcheang @clawloversims @kindastupidbutkindanot @the-no-one-in-the-corner @teresarosiadeviluke2112 @starberry-mina @vivilakitty @vixen-uchiha @superrrpc @two-faced-biatch @schrodingers25 @marichat00 @i-have-social-skills-jackass @elspethshadow @yin-390 @silvergold-swirl @jjustjoy @arthxrmxrgan @bowser14456 @literallytryingmybestbutok @interobanginyourmom @deerestaurelia @akanague @laureena18 @muggleborn12 @teresarosiadeviluke2112 @marinahrasauce @random-reblogs-daily @internet-lesbian-mom @varikasnuori @everyusernameisalready-taken

#unhealthy coping mechanisms #UCM #miraculous ladybug #miraculous spoilers #miraculous ladybug spoilers #ml season 3 #ml spoilers #ml loveater #ml love eater #ml miracle queen #ml finale #my fic #miraculous ladybug fic #I like to make my favorite characters suffer ok?#Part 4 coming very soon

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hottestthingalive · 5 years ago

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Bluebells (1)

Chapter 1: Seeds

AO3 Link here.

Chapter 2 here, finally!

Notes: So, to those of you who saw this post about my WIPs which mentioned this having background Roceit and Intruality in later chapters of this story?

...I accidentally became way too invested in the idea of Virgil making fun of Patton’s new boyfriend being called Prince. So you get that now.

The name of the chapters comes from an interesting fact I learned about bluebell flowers while researching this story: they take at least five years to grow from a seed into a bulb, which they have to be before they flower. The first chapter takes place six or seven years before the events of the main story, so I found it very appropriate. This story should only be three or four chapters long, but who knows -- I have lots of ideas for these boys.

Plot: Logan encounters a strange boy in the woods. His name is Anxiety, and he's hiding in the flowers.

Relationships: budding romance analogical, hinted dukeceit, royality in later chapters, remile in later chapters, platonic DRLAMP

Tw: Cursing, faeries, mention of death, mention of kidnapping, dead parents. (If I missed anything, let me know!)

---

He didn’t understand, and it bothered him to no end.

Logan first saw the human in May, when the sun stayed long and the moon appeared less. The flowers had started to bloom, the trees green and vibrant, with alternating days of hot sun or torrents of rain.

The faerie quite liked May. He preferred winter, of course, being Unseelie, but some nights in the spring he could look up at the sky and see every single star, and stars fascinated him to no end. Besides, there was no one telling him to do his job in the warm months (for there was no snow or cold, blustery winds in the time of the Seelie), and without the pestering to summon winter he could be alone. Logan enjoyed his solitude.

That is, he had, until the human child had stumbled into a flowered field in the small section of the forest the Unseelie had managed to mark off for himself.

The boy (or at least Logan guessed he was a boy; he had never been good with human age or gender. Fey just were, and though Logan had known he was male early on, many didn’t care about such things. It was such a human concept, after all) was carrying a black book in one hand, a knapsack slung over one shoulder. He sat down in the field, and suddenly he was gone, hidden in the bluebells.

The fey squinted, trying to see the strange mortal in the flowers, but the boy had achieved almost perfect camouflage.

Logan had never seen him before, not in the forest. Humans rarely dared tread in the woods, for fear of its elven inhabitants. This one was an anomaly, and it was positively fascinating. Especially one so young -- he appeared to be less than Logan’s own age, making him maybe seven or eight.

This went on for some time. The strange male would appear in the field, plop down among the bluebells, and stay there for some time, while Logan watched from the branches of the trees. When he finally left, Logan would check the place where he sat, searching for a sign as to how this mortal could hide so thoroughly.

It was on the seventh appearance of the sun that he found something strange: a piece of white parchment, with a sketch of the forest. The detail was quite good for the hand of a child, Logan had to admit, but it wasn’t the quality of the drawing that bothered him. It was the face in one of the trees, undoubtedly his own, with a line of scribbled human glyphs scrawled beside it. They took but a second to translate.

Just come say hi.

How had the mortal seen him? It was undoubtedly dangerous, Logan’s instincts told him. Best to abandon the area, warn his court, and allow the Seelie to deal with the small human intruding in the fey woods. Nevermind that the spring and summer fey were notoriously thoughtless, and might kidnap the child. Nevermind that they would likely forget that humans did not live as long as fey, despite (in their early years, at least) growing at the same rate. Nevermind that, eventually, after often forgetting to provide food or care for their pet human, they would throw him out for aging, or keep him till he died.

No, Logan was to disregard all of that.

The next day, Logan found himself creeping through the field, inching his way towards the bluebell patch. The faerie found his pride in his magic: he was quite good at it, and so he expertly used the flora to mask his presence. There was no possible way he could be noticed.

“Hi,” the boy said, looking up and straight into Logan’s eyes. The human’s own irises were green, a deeper green than he would normally expect from a mortal, the color of grass and oak leaves. “Finally! I thought you would never talk to me.”

Well. That wasn’t right.

“How did you spot me?” he demanded, dumbfounded. He found himself adjusting his black shirt subconsciously, in a state of mild shock.

“It’s a secret,” the child grinned. “What’s your name?”

How rude, Logan thought.

I shall never speak to him again, the rational part of his brain decided. He probably has magic, and is a danger to me and all others of my kind.

But he’s fascinating, said the uncontrollable, irrational, annoying part of his brain that was always championing silly matters like friendship and personal interests over actually doing his duty, which would logically be to report this at once. And I do occasionally get lonely…

“You may call me Logic,” he heard, realizing a second late that the words had come from his own mouth. “Which is an alias, of course, but it is the only name you shall get.” Logan had gone by the name for years, choosing it just as every other child did, in this world where true names had power.

“I figured,” the mortal smiled, with his green eyes crinkled and the absence of one of his front teeth distinct. “I’m Anxiety.”

“Why choose ‘Anxiety’?” Logan asks, years later. He receives that same smile, although the adult tooth has long since grown in.

“Why’d you choose Logic?” the male in front of him asks in turn, and Logan responds by blinking.

“I don’t believe I know,” he replies.

“Exactly,” his compatriot shrugs. “It just felt right.”

“Are you a witch?” he queried weeks later, sitting cross-legged besides Anxiety and holding a book in his hands.

“A witch?” Anxiety repeated, looking up from his sketchbook.

“Bluebells are sometimes called harebells, especially in Scotland,” he said, “because witches are supposed to turn into rabbits to hide in the flowers. It is almost impossible to spot you without knowing if you are here; maybe you’re a witch.”

“Last I checked, I can’t turn into a rabbit,” the boy laughed. “Maybe I summoned you, though, by ringing the bluebells.”

“They are not literal bells, Anxiety.”

“My dad used to tell me that if you rang bluebells, faeries would come,” he shrugged. “But if a human hears a bluebell ring, that means someone dear to them will die.”

“You humans have such morbid myths,” he told his mortal companion, looking at the flowers. “A bluebell cannot make a sound, anyways, so if one hears something it would be purely coincidental.”

“It’s fun to think about though,” said the human beside him, and Logan looked over at Anxiety, who was sprawled on the grass, staring at the clouds in the blue sky. “Hey, that one looks like a cat eating pasta out of a bucket.”

He looked at the cloud in question, and had to admit it did appear so, as odd the image was. “Why do you humans engage in these flights of fantasy?” Logan asked, despite himself.

“Coping mechanism, probably,” he replied, with the air of a child that, despite their age, knows enough about the world to call themself Anxiety. “Don’t you?”

“The Seelie, perhaps,” Logan sniffed, “but my court is far more realistic in our views than those sparkly fools.”

“Fair enough,” laughed the mortal.

Logan soon found himself spending the spring and summer with the boy called Anxiety, sitting in the field. Anxiety brought him books written by humans when Logan got bored of fey texts, and in turn, the faerie deigned to ‘show off’ a bit, demonstrating his magic one day by summoning shadows and a storm. He couldn’t deny the fact that he had been quite happy to see Anxiety wasn’t scared at all, instead laughing as the rain fell around them and Logan scrambled to save their things because “We must save the books, Anxiety!” Once everything was stashed in a hollow tree, however, he managed to get a good look at the boy he had started to think of as a friend, and a laugh was shocked out of him. Anxiety’s bangs were plastered to his face, covering his eyes.

“You look as though a mop has adhered itself to your skull,” Logan informed him, unable to hide his smile.

“What’s that weird thing you’re doing with your face? Are you okay?” Anxiety asked, sarcasm negated by his own grin. Logan rolled his eyes. He knew he did not smile often, but still -- those levels of cheek were unwarranted.

He learned Anxiety was ten, older than he would have guessed, and only a month younger than Logan himself. That he loved poetry and sewing and art but didn’t think he was really good at any of them, and would be mocked for these interests. That his parents had died when he was quite young, and he now lived with his elderly grandmother, who let him run off anywhere as long as he was in his bed the next morning. She had homeschooled him for his early years, and would only send him to an official establishment next fall, which told Logan why Anxiety wasn’t with his fellow human children in their brick school during the spring. It also explained why he’d been allowed to enter the fey woods at all, what with the healthy fear the locals had developed of the place.

In turn, ‘Logic’ had revealed his love for the stars, (which led to Anxiety sneaking out one night to stargaze with him in the bluebell field), how he’d kept a lizard as a pet one summer, but released it at the end because a cold-blooded creature likely wouldn’t survive the winter months, and how he reported directly to the Unseelie ruler, because all fey had a job, young or old. “It’s just the way it is,” he explained. “I have responsibilities to my court, as do all fey children.”

“Bit like child labour, though,” Anxiety pointed out.

“For humans, maybe,” he conceded, “but we mentally develop much faster.”

“But you live longer, so shouldn’t you get to embrace your childhood before your infinite adulthood?” reasoned the other, watching the ladybug that was clinging to his sleeve.

“Not infinite,” Logan replied, and Anxiety raised his head in interest. “We live a very long time, to be sure, but all fey die eventually. When we run out of magic, we age and perish.”

His friend considered that -- and Logan considered the human boy his friend, now. That notion had snuck up on him, it seemed, surreptitiously changing his label of ‘acquaintance’ to one of friendship.

He didn’t really mind.

Fall came in colored leaves and bursts of chilly wind, of flowers wilting and apples ripening in the trees. Logan attended the passing of the seasons, or the transfer of control, from the Seelie Court to that of the Unseelie at the equinox. It was in the deepest part of the forest, the part that joined the realm of the fey to the human world.

Logan wasn’t entirely happy about their regained dominion. He should have been, he knew: logic dictated it! With winter, his powers increased, and he gained structure and work he loved. Why would he not be glad?

Well, remarked the treacherous little voice in his head, we can’t spend time with Anxiety in the winter, now can we?

It was true, he mused as the crown of the fey on the podium shed its vibrant flowers and its green leaves turned red, orange, yellow, and brown. He’d be very busy, for one. Talyn, leader of the Unseelie, had promised him greater responsibility this year. And besides…

The woods were dangerous enough when the Seelie ruled. But Logan’s court had a tendency to be vicious, and they did not attempt to hide their darkness like their flowery counterparts.

Were Anxiety to be discovered in faerie woods in winter…

He didn’t want to think about it.

“Logic!” called a familiar voice, and he turned to see two identical faces waving to him.

“Prince, Duke,” he nodded. “I trust you are well?”

“Oh, Lolo, don’t be so formal with us,” Prince grinned, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “We’re friends, after all!”

“Or are we making you nervous?” smirked Duke. “No, something else is! You’ve got a secret, don’tcha?”

Logan’s lips thinned. He’d forgotten how alarmingly perceptive the Unseelie half of the brothers could be.

Prince and Duke were oddities among the fey, the children of parents from both courts. Prince was Seelie, Duke Unseelie, but they had remained close even when the courts did their best to seperate them. Now, they had achieved a sort of notoriety. Joan, leader of the Seelie court, was said to be molding Prince for his own role, and Talyn had already offered for the Duke to study under them. He had rejected the offer, saying that he didn’t want the vulnerability of fey leadership, and a faerie called Deceit had been selected instead.

Secretly, Logan suspected Duke’s reservations had less to do with every faerie in both courts knowing his true name (which was a requirement for Talyn and Joan, just as it had been for all fey leaders before them) and more to do with the restrictions being trained by Talyn would put on him. He loved his chaos, after all.

“I don’t see what my personal affairs have to do with you,” he said, rather coldly. “No offense meant, of course.”

“Oh, Logic, you break our hearts!” Prince cried dramatically, clutching his chest. “How could you say such things to your bestest and oldest friends?”

“Advice’s by far the best of my friends.”

“Oldest friends!” Duke countered.

“I have known Deceit for far longer than either of you.”

Duke colored at the name (could he be any more obvious with his little crush?) and Prince exclaimed, “Friends!”

“...Dubious,” Logan said, turning back towards the proceedings.

“C’mon, Logie, we both know you’re bored out of your mind having to watch this mind-numbing shit,” Duke told him, grinning. He was missing three teeth. Fey aren’t supposed to lose teeth, the tiny part of his mind that hadn’t given up yet pointed out. “Let’s leave, and then you can tell us all about your little secret.”

“I will not be telling you anything,” he sighed.

But he ought to. He knew that. It was why he had been avoiding Advice lately, who had gotten a little too good at reading people after beginning his job as a healer. It was why after the meeting Logan threw himself into his work, so as not to cause any issues, any reasons for his court to keep an eye on him. It was why he began following Anxiety when the human boy left the forest each day, making sure he couldn’t be taken on his way home.

Winter came and Logan began to change, as the power of his people’s season grew within him. His features, already pronounced, became sharper, hair longer (more wild, Anxiety said, as he attempted to braid the dark locks), ears, nails, and teeth more pointed. He changed his clothes for winter, of course, wearing a night-blue cloak lined with rabbit fur over his usual dark attire, and grudgingly trading bare feet for boots. Anxiety laughed at him a fair bit, for that (“What’s your problem with shoes?” he had cackled, as Logan sulked besides him) but after he had to switch his sweatshirts for a heavy black parka, the human joined the fey in petulant anger.

One day, Anxiety asked why fey changed appearances in the winter, gingerly examining Logan’s sharp nails, which bore an uncanny resemblance to claws. Logan replied that they didn’t -- they changed for summer, or Unseelie did at least. His winter form was his true one; the one the human had first encountered was a disguise of sorts, a way to blend in among the Seelie, a defensive relic from when the two breeds of faerie were at war.

He was afraid, then, looking at Anxiety, that he would flee. Unseelie were always the evil fey in human stories, not the playful tricksters but the monsters in the dark, and this human seemed to know every story, reciting them from memory to Logan as they lay in the field, watching clouds in the sky.

But Anxiety simply hummed quietly, looking up into Logan’s eyes. “Those don’t change,” he said, motioning to them. “Must be pretty easy for the Seelie to recognize, huh?”

“Why would my eyes be easy to recognize?” he asked, blinking.

“They’re beautiful,” the human shrugged, far too casual, and returned to his study of Logan’s nails. “Hey, maybe I could paint your nails. My friend Morality’s been teaching me how.”

(And if the tips of the faerie’s pointed ears turned red, his cheeks dusted with a similar colour, Anxiety was kind enough not to mention it.)

He knew it was dangerous, still meeting the human, but Logan still found himself entering the clearing each day, even though the bluebells had all wilted by August and the other flowers followed quickly, even as the grass turned brown. Sometimes, Logan told himself that it was because he wanted to learn from Anxiety, or because he wanted to interact with someone his age, or because he was simply ingrained in his habits. Always a new excuse. Nevermind that the information the human could teach him was nothing compared to his own vast reservoirs of knowledge, that Deceit, Prince, Advice and Duke were all his own age, and two were even of Logan’s court, that he was a faerie, and the fey did not do routines, as creatures of the wild.

The truth was, he found a certain amount of joy in meeting with someone who seemed to understand Logan’s reluctance to conform to the standards of his court, who was kind and laughed easily and shared stories and secrets and songs without any cost. The truth was that he was just a bit selfish.

Logan’s selfishness would come back to bite him.

It was fall on the cusp of winter when it happened, a crisp afternoon in early November, and a Wednesday. This meant that Anxiety could only come later in the day, and carted along a backpack holding papers and books and math. As far as Logan could tell, math was a game with numbers with many nuanced rules, that he rather liked and Anxiety hated.

To make sure that the human managed to reach the clearing safely, Logan had begun to meet him on the path that was Anxiety’s way through the forest, using his magic to mask the two of them from the Unseelie patrolling the woods. Anxiety found it funny (he didn’t seem to quite understand the true danger the forest posed him) but a bit irritating, so Logan grudgingly met him halfway down the path instead of at the line of trees that seperated the forest and the town.

So he sat in the woods, that Wednesday, high up in the branches, and waited, lost in thought. It had been several months since they’d met in the beginning of May, spending time together almost every day. He had expected the human to have run away in fear by now, to have stopped coming into the forest, to have been scared off by the magic or the changing of shapes or simply by the power Logan held. But the aptly named Anxiety (he was scared of so many things, of sharks and snakes and clowns and drowning and dying and blood) wasn’t afraid of Logan at all, it seemed.

It was nice, not being feared -- even among his own people, he was treated with a healthy amount of caution. Faeries did not trust. They found security in favors, in debts, and even family, like Prince and Duke, eyed each other with suspicion. But the human boy believed so easily, never asking for a favor or a name, giving and never asking for anything in return. It did not match with what Logan knew, of humans or of fey.

...Anxiety was late.

He held out for two minutes longer, before he finally stood and darted through the branches, feet finding footholds that should not have held them, moving through the air and ignoring the fact that occasionally he never touched the branches at all. Such was being a faerie.

Later, he would think back on the moment and thank the forest he had been so lucky. If he had waited a minute longer, had decided to run along the ground instead of in the trees, if he had listened to Anxiety when he rolled his eyes the day before and said “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me,” when Logan had told him to be careful…

Logan found his human (sometime in the past months, the human boy had become his. When, he didn’t know, but it had happened so easily, Anxiety sliding into his life with his drawings and poetry and laughter and settling in like he had always belonged. If he believed in things like that, Logan would think it was fate.) standing frozen in the dirt path, eyes glazed and unfocused, books spread around him and backpack lying in the dirt. Unseelie had swarmed him, two of them examining the human in their midst as one -- Deceit, Logan realized in shock -- worked his magic to keep him in a docile trance.

“Why did he come here?” another faerie asked, one Logan vaguely recognized. From his recollection, he was named Raven. The third he had never met, and seemed a fair bit older than the other two and Logan himself -- Deceit, Raven, and Logan were all young fey, Raven the oldest at maybe fourteen and Deceit almost the same age as Logan himself. This faerie, however, despite appearing to be in their early twenties, had an air of age, and he would guess the mystery individual to be in their hundreds.

“It doesn’t matter,” the older Unseelie smiled, a grin appearing on their face. “It’s just a human boy. Kill it or take it.”

“He -- He’s our age, Lady Belladonna,” protested Deceit, his brow furrowing. “A child. Shouldn’t we just send him away?”

“Oh, not he,” the apparently female faerie snarled, reaching out to grip Anxiety’s blank face in dark nails. “Humans… humans are beasts. And they call us creatures of the dark! It has no more rights than an animal, age or not. Maturity has never affected the ways of the fey.”

“But Lady--” Raven protested, looking as disturbed as Deceit, but he never got the chance to finish his sentence. Logan had heard enough.

Lady Belladonna, whoever she was, had been correct. Maturity had very little to do with fey; age meant time, and a faerie scorned time, even physically. So Logan, young as he was at barely eleven winters (Logan had turned eleven just a few days ago -- Anxiety had given him some of the mechanical pencils he had liked, as well as a decorated case. He had said it was a ‘birthday gift’.), had power, power enough to reach out to the minds of the three fey and push them into sleep.

He’d always been good at manipulating the brain -- better than even Deceit or Advice.

The three Unseelie crumpled to the ground, eyes shutting even as they tried to resist, pushing back against his influence. The clearing soon quieted, silent but for the sound of quiet breathing and the wind in the trees.

Logan knew he had succeeded when Anxiety blinked and the haze over his eyes disappeared, Deceit’s control gone. The human gasped, stumbling backwards, and at that moment Logan finally emerged from the branches to pick up the backpack and the books, nodding in greeting.

“Logic?” Anxiety asked, sounding small, staring at the fey slumped around him. “What -- what happened? Are they…”

“Merely sleeping,” he replied, motioning to the rise and fall of Raven’s chest. “They will be alright.” His face hardens. “They deserved worse. What do you remember?”

“All of it, I think. They surprised me, and that one that looks like a snake did something -- I couldn’t move, I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t scream.” He hesitated, staring at the female faerie. “She wanted to kill me?”

“Or take you to our realm,” Logan said, straightening, Anxiety’s backpack in one hand and his books in the other. “Here. I need to make sure they don’t remember this encounter.”

The human took his belongings, watching as Logan crouched by the sleeping fey, touching his fingers to their temples. It took only a few seconds to alter their memories, to make them believe their enchanted sleep to be the result of a backfired spell by the Lady. (He takes special pleasure in placing the blame on her.)

He altered first the memories of Raven, then Belladonna, and then he reached for Deceit.

A yellow-gloved hand reached up to grasp Logan’s wrist.

“Logic!” Anxiety exclaimed, a fearful squeak, rushing forwards, but Deceit spoke before he could aid him.

“Thank you,” the young Unseelie whispered, eyes forcing themselves open.

“What?” Logan asked, unable to keep the shock from his voice. Deceit was one of the few faeries that could lie without repercussions, but the thanks seemed genuine. Whether he had become far better at lying than Logan had thought, or…

“She would have murdered him,” Deceit laughed, a harsh sound. “Probably would have made me do it, a test for Talyn’s protégé. I definitely would have been able to casually murder a kid my age.” Sarcasm practically dripped from his words, before his tone softened. “So, thank you, Logic.”

“You released Anxiety from the spell, didn’t you?” he realized, blinking down at the barely-conscious faerie. “You’re going to get yourself killed, Deceit.”

“Wipe my memories,” he shrugged. “I’ll be fine. But be careful, okay? Belladonna isn’t alone in her views. There’s fey from both courts that are now advocating for violence against humans. Your boyfriend will need to be cautious.”

“He’s not my -- we aren’t -- we are far too young to be courting!” Logan protested, knowing full well his face was as bright as a rose, ears burning. Anxiety was in much the same state, although Deceit simply rolled his eyes.

“Of course you are,” the faerie sighed. “Just… keep an eye out, Logic. This forest has gotten dangerous, as of late.”

His eyes fluttered shut. A few seconds later, his breathing evened. Logan was rather impressed -- Deceit’d held out against the spell for far longer than he would have expected anyone to be able to. Luckily, the strange resistance didn’t carry over when he moved to alter his memories, and soon he stood to face Anxiety.

“It… It would be understandable if you decided to terminate our friendship,” he finally muttered, unable to meet the human’s green eyes. “You have now seen the truth of my people. We are vicious, and killers, and-”

“And you rescued me,” said Anxiety, voice startlingly calm. “And that other faerie -- Deceit, right? -- he didn’t want to hurt me either. I don’t think you’re vicious, or a killer.”

“Anxiety, you’ll be in danger if you continue visiting me. You could lose your life!” Logan exclaimed, motioning to the fallen faeries around him for emphasis, because the stupid human didn’t understand, didn’t get that he might die or worse!

“That was always going to be true, dummy. We’re in a faerie forest. I’m a human,” Anxiety deadpanned. “C’mon.”

They walked through the woods to the clearing in silence, Logan working his magic to render them invisible to prying eyes, Anxiety staring at the dirt under his sneakers. The forest was still, for once.

The two arrived in their typical spot, standing near where they knew the bluebells would grow again in spring, hearing dead grass crinkle underneath their feet. The human set down his belongings, and hesitated, suddenly still.

“Are you alright?” Logan asked, glancing over. Anxiety was staring at the ground again, arms wrapped around himself in a sort of makeshift hug, bangs covering his eyes.

“I… You saved my life, Logic,” the other said, voice choked, and there were glistening tears streaming down his pale cheeks. “I would have died.”

Logan had never been good at feelings. He’d be the first to admit so -- they were Prince or Advice’s department. Still, he found himself moving forwards, pulling Anxiety into a hug, ignoring the tears wetting his cloak as he did his best to replicate what he’d seen Advice do for distressed fey.

“I don’t want to die,” he heard, whispered into his shoulder. “I don’t want to die, L.”

“I won’t let you,” promised Logan, and heard from his own mouth, before he could even think about saying it, “I’ll protect your life with mine, if it comes to that.”

Anxiety let out a laugh at that, his grip tightening. “Well, that’s not very fair. You’re not allowed to die either, okay? I’ll protect you too.”

Logan had a response on the tip of his tongue (“You’re a human, how would you preserve my lifespan in any way?”) but a searing pain through his left eye interrupted him, and nothing more than a gasp of agony escaped the faerie. They seperated, Anxiety clutching the right side of his face.

The feeling disappeared as quickly as it had manifested, and Logan immediately looked up, searching for their attacker, and instead found the human’s previously green eyes.

The right one was a bright, shining purple.

Anxiety’s mouth was open wide. “Logic, your eye--” he began, before reaching into his bag and fumbling for his communicator square. (Phone, he called it. Logan did not quite understand, but avoided touching it anyways -- it appeared to be made of metal, and he would not risk contact with iron.) He turned it on, before switching to a screen that reflected both of their faces.

Logan had only ever looked at his reflection to ensure his presentability. He knew his eyes were different from those of humans, of course; Anxiety’s had circles of green around a black center, set on a white background, but Logan did not have those divisions. Color spread across the whole surface, lacking in whites, pupil, and iris. “Your eyes look like the night sky,” Anxiety had told him once, and he supposed the human was correct -- normally, they were a dark purplish blue color, with pinpricks of pale light across the surface. Still, he hadn’t understood why Anxiety had seemed so fascinated. (“Is it accurate?” the human had questioned. “Is the placement of the stars right?” Logan had eventually flushed red as the other tried to find constellations in his eyes, Anxiety had noticed and retreated, and that had been the end of that. He’d never brought it up again.)

But now his left eye was crossed with a pattern of greenish blue, like the aurora borealis in the Unseelie realm that his parents had taken him to see when he was very small, vibrant against the indigo background.

“What happened?” Anxiety asked, staring at himself on the screen of the phone, reaching up as if to touch the purple ring, ensuring it was truly there. “How -- why -- what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Logan said slowly, staring at his newly heterochromatic eyes.

Perhaps this is the price of befriending and saving a human, he thought to himself, meeting Anxiety’s panicked eyes with his own. Perhaps it is a curse, or a punishment from the gods. A physical marking of my shame, of forgetting to take a name, a favor, a price, as is my nature.

“It’s okay,” Anxiety said, reaching out to take Logan’s hand and squeezing it gently. “It’s okay, L. We’ll figure it out. Besides, it looks cool as heck, right?”

“...That it does,” he nodded after a beat, returning the gesture, a wan smile stretching his lips despite the situation.

“Let’s… Let’s not worry about it for now,” suggested the human. “We’ve got better things to do, right?”

“Definitely. We had best get started on that math homework.”

Anxiety let out a laugh at that. “Ew. How about we just cloudwatch for now?”

They sat in the empty field, where their flowers would grow again come spring, and watched white fluff form in the blue sky through mismatched eyes. He glanced over at Anxiety, who smiled and reached out with his hand. The faerie took it.

If this new coloring is a curse, it’s worth it, decided Logan, flashing a smile at his boy of the bluebells before returning his gaze to the sky.

At first, the change took getting used to. Fey whispered Logan had made a deal with the forest, had become vain and done it cosmetically, had been cursed. Humans said much the same about Anxiety. As time passed, however, and the colors didn’t change, those inside and outside the forest learned to accept the change. No one questioned it anymore, and eventually the two learned to forget the day in the clearing, to pass it off as a spell gone wrong in Logan’s case and an eye injury in Anxiety’s.

Neither of them found an explanation for it either, but it soon became apparent they didn’t need to. They had each other.

That was what mattered.

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coffee-writher · 4 years ago

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“How will we ever get out of this labyrinth of suffering?”

- Yana Layno

Going back, you might wonder how will we ever really get out of this labyrinth of suffering. Unfortunately, there is no way for us to get out of it, but we can survive it everyday. It is by learning to forgive people and ourselves, “we need to forgive in order to survive the labyrinth.”We need to forgive ourselves for the things we didn’t become, for the people we hurt and have hurt us, the things we regret not doing and the things we regret doing as well. Stop beating yourself up for elements of your life that are outside of your control such as death. Forgive yourself and others for the unfortunate things that happen in life and accept what is. We have to accept that certain things are out of hand, and we need to continue forgiving ourselves for the things we are not in control of.

If you’re an avid reader of John Green, I assume that the title is very familiar to you and you know who’s question came from. Well for some who have no idea, these lines were from the book “Looking for Alaska” published in 2005 by John Green. To be honest, at first I didn’t see this movie/books as interesting as it is. But the moment I started watching it, it easily caught my attention. The beginning of the movie is cliche but I like how the story runs. It gave me butterflies and the minor sexual content of the movie somehow gave me deprivation, especially that I watched it during ECQ/GCQ months. But let’s get to the topic straight, to be honest I’ve been seeking answers on how we can ever get out of suffering, and no matter how many ideas and words of encouragement that people throw at me, still, it is not enough to ease what I’m dealing inside. Maybe that’s one of the factors why this book/movie caught my attention very well.

Based on the movie/book, one of the cast “Alaska” who’s known as a young, wild, moody, unpredictable and enigmatic girl who suffers from severe depression due to her PTSD when she witnessed how her mother end herself when she was a kid, and her father blamed her for this and that’s one factor that gave her guilt in herself. While “Miles Halter” is the novel's main character and narrator, who has an unusual passion in learning famous people's last words and is seeking his great perhaps as well.

Alaska used to ask “When will we ever get out of this labyrinth of suffering?” Based on the story, that question was from Alaska’s favorite author “Simon Bolivar.” She’s not asking it just because she read it from one of her favorite books but for me, it was what exactly she’s seeking for answers. She hides her pain with those peaceful smiles and graceful laughter, with those beautiful hazel eyes and mysterious personality but in reality, she’s seeking for ways and answers on how she will ever get out of the sufferings she’s dealing with for a long period of time.

Her friends were not aware of what she’s hiding inside for a long time until she can’t contain it anymore and let it out. And by this, it made me realize that a lot of dark thoughts can be hidden within a smile, laughter, and energetic vibes. That sometimes suicidal thoughts are present in the most brightest and calming hour of the day.

For me, this question was one of the most enigmatic questions to answer. And perhaps, a lot of people tend to seek answers on how we will ever get out of these sufferings and even I have failed to seek answers for this as well. Some say that, “Happiness is a choice, so choose it.” but in reality and for me, choosing happiness is easy to fake. We can fake our smile, laughter, our opinions towards other people just for them to see us happy. Or for some, this is just their coping or defense mechanism to survive and forget the sufferings but for me, if we keep on faking it, these sufferings will just repeatedly haunt us.

Looking back when I was a little younger, I used to plan ahead of time and want everything to be polished, but life wasn’t as easy as it was. I made a lot of mistakes and I became a coward to face those, to the point where a lot of bad memories were being stored at my hippocampus. However, no matter how hard we try to forget things that made us feel bad about ourselves, these memories will keep on haunting us for as long as we don’t face it and accept it. Honestly speaking, I’m still sorry for the things that I didn’t become. Goals that seem impossible and hard to reach now but, I am learning to accept everything and forgive myself everyday.

After two years of circumstances, I can say that those tears I shed, walls I built within myself and those sleepless nights I missed due to school works were all worth it. I remember every time our professors ask me why I took Journalism as my program, and my answer will forever be this “I want my passion to be my profession.”Perhaps, one of the reason why my professors didn’t gave up on me, my parents somehow didn’t gave up one me, but the most proudest thing I did was not giving up on myself.

I realized that, there is no ladder to success nor a straight smooth path on achieving those, I am lucky to be one of the people who encountered hardships along the way. I believed that “when you know and look back at those tears and hardships you’ve encountered, you will never give up on your dreams easily.” So here I am, still reaching for that goal. “Baby steps are still considered a step” and I am proud of those steps I’m taking.

#labyrinth #looking for alaska #john green #novel #review #personal #life #love #forgive

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thorne93 · 5 years ago

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Unforeseen Chasm (Part 59)

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Word Count:4275

Warnings: Language, bad coping mechanisms, grief, depression, lack of motivation, feelings revealed, relationships at stake, tension is high, start of endgame movie, losing hope, hope is brought back, Song for this part: I’ll never love again- Lady Gaga Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my novels). It’s a collaboration with the amazing @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo. It started as a funny “What if…?” and it evolved and got huge. This took two years to write. We are both proud and happy and we hope you enjoy it. It follows from Thor 1 to Endgame in the MCU. Some of the timelines may be off in order to fit certain people, and some characters may show up earlier or in different ways than they have in the movie. But for the most part, it follows the MCU. It also has a bit of crossover with some other Marvel characters throughout the story.

Masterlist for Unforeseen Chasm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, before dawn, you were out of bed. You started a new simulation to try and find Thanos. While the simulation ran, you went outside to practice. Shannon was right, even if you did find Thanos, what then? You needed to practice, to train. So that’s what you did.

Your powers were like Wanda’s and Remy’s combined. You were born with the ability as an Asgardian goddess to charge potential energy and launch it. The mind stone had given you electrical dark energy that you could launch from yourself as a bolt of energy, or use it as an extended limb, like Wanda. Using the dark energy, you could fly. Using the electric part of your energy, you could electrocute things, like Thor. You learned illusions and trickery from Loki. By all stretches of the imagination, you should be the most powerful one in the room at all times, save for Shannon who could absorb any power, not to mention her natural healing power.

But being powerful meant nothing if you didn’t know how to use it well. So for the next twelve hours straight that day, you practiced. You learned how to create a shield around yourself using your purple energy. You learned how to send shockwaves through the ground like Thor. You practiced charging objects and throwing them, as well as creating powerful energy shots and launching them. You practiced flying. You hadn’t done much of it since the New York attack and you wanted to be sure that you felt comfortable doing it.

Shannon left you to it, knowing that you wouldn’t want to be bothered, but Steve checked on you. He asked what you were doing and if you needed help. You explained you were gearing up to fight Thanos and you didn’t want Steve to get hurt. He didn’t say much but nodded and left you alone. Natasha watched you and she wanted to say something, offer something, but she didn’t know how. You two weren’t close at all. You liked Natasha, by all means, but she didn’t know how to comfort you in something like this, so she let you grieve the way you needed to. Bruce felt sorry for you. He desperately wanted to help you. He felt he could take anything you threw at him, but his concern was with Shannon and finding Tony. Bruce and you were a bit closer, and he understood better than most the healing factors isolation and being alone could have. Thor… well you and Thor could hardly stand to look at each other. You’d lost the same thing, and you both felt responsible. You didn’t blame him, and you hoped he didn’t blame you.

You didn’t fault any of them for not coming to see you. You knew they all had their own grief they were dealing with, their own personal missions. This was yours.

This became your new routine. Rising at early hours, running tests to see where Thanos might be, running scanners for him using the stones again, then you’d set out to practice your powers until late at night. You were at least sleeping now and eating at least one meal a day. It wasn’t ideal, but it was an improvement. You logically knew you couldn’t fight Thanos if you were malnourished and tired.

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

A few days after Shannon had visited you that night, she didn't feel like being at another one of those meetings with the faces of the vanished and seeing Tony’s and Parker’s faces. There’s only so much she could take. So here she was in bed hiding under the covers with Lucky being the little spoon. When there had been a few light knocks, she hoped they would leave her alone.

“Hey,” Bruce said softly as he poked his head in. “I know you probably want to be left alone, but I think we should all be together at a time like this. I also brought you something to help calm your nerves.” He held up a small tray with two cups of tea. “It always keeps me calm.”

“Thanks, Bruce, but I think I'd rather stay here in bed with Lucky.” She came out from under the covers. “There’s no way I’m going in there and see Tony’s or Parker’s face.” She shook her head.

He nodded as he sat the tray down. He rubbed his hands nervously before stuffing them in his cardigan pockets. “Yeah, yeah, I get that. It’s hard to see his face. I told them to take their faces down because we don’t know if--” He stopped himself, choosing his next words carefully to not upset you further. “Well we don’t know what’s happened to them, if anything. Hell, you know Tony. He could be on his way here, right now. He might’ve just wound up a place a little bit away from here.” He tried to add cheer to his voice.

“Bruce, thanks for trying but I can feel how uncertain things are until we find out more.” She took the cup of tea from the tray.

“Well isn’t that just it? Things are uncertain, so don’t lose hope, okay? If you lose hope, all we have is Cap. I mean his motivational speeches are great and all, don’t get me wrong, but we need you… I need you.”

“But what can I do? I’m not Tony or Steve. They both have things I cannot be or give so what now?” She put the cup back. “I just need someone to take over and be the one in charge for once”

Bruce nodded. “I don’t know how or if that’s gonna happen, sweetheart. Nat might. You know they all look up to you. It isn’t to pressure you. You don’t need to be anyone but you. Your optimism and quick thinking is what gets us through. You’re the glue of this team, don’t forget it. But… I understand if you need a break. Steve, Nat, and I can take over for a bit. At least until we hear something on Tony or Peter…”

“That would be great, really, I don’t know what I would do without you, Bruce.” She touched his hand and she became so overcome with his emotions that she shed a tear. “I’m so sorry, Bruce. I didn't mean to get in tune with your emotions, that power has been really strong since that day.”

“Hey, first off, don’t apologize to me, ever. Secondly, of course it has been. You’ve lost a lot and you have no idea what happened to Tony. Your power of emotion is bound to go haywire. Besides, I don’t mind you having a peek at my emotions every now and then,” he stated, almost sheepishly.

“Is that a hint of a blush I see?” Shannon joked, putting her hand on his cheek feeling how warm it got and was getting hotter by the second. “I don’t mean to pry but I felt a few things when I touched your hand, mind telling what they were about?” She looked at him seriously.

“Shannon,” he started uneasily, “you already know what it is you feel,” he said softly.

“It’s one thing for me to feel a person’s emotions, it’s another thing to know what or who they are directed to,” she calmly explained. “If this is making you uneasy we could change the subject,” she suggested. She partially knew but she wanted him to confirm her suspicions.

He rubbed his neck, feeling more nervous and awkward by the second. “Damn, I never wanted to do this. Let alone while Tony’s...well... missing but...Ah, damn. Shannon… I’m in love with you. Alright? I know the timing is terrible. I know you’re married. I should’ve said something before, but you’re so happy with Tony, and he’s my best friend and I didn’t want to ruin any of that. I can’t hide it anymore though. With the way the world is now… I think it’s now or never, you know?” He peered at her, guilt, hope, worry, and relief all rolled into one.

“Umm… wow, I... I don’t know what to say Bruce—” She got quiet for a bit processing what her friend had told her all that time ago at the mansion about Banner having feelings for her. She didn’t think that it was true. “I’m flattered that you feel this way about me, Bruce...and I know we’re in a spot that’s between a rock and a hard place but until I can know for certain what’s happened with Tony, I don’t think I can act on this.” She placed her hand on his, feeling his emotions and tried to not let them confuse her. She knew she had always had a soft spot for the man but she married Tony and she couldn’t betray him like this. What if he comes back… no, she needed to stop thinking.

“You’re right. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you. I never wanted you to know. I never wanted to put you in any position of choosing him or me. Just… with things the way they are…” He shook his head. “Just think on it? I’m not saying we need to do anything now or anything soon at all. Just… give it some thought.”

“This is my fault. If I hadn’t felt your hand we wouldn’t be in this situation but you’re right we ca—” Just as Shannon was about to answer the man, you walked into the bedroom, making the two jump apart and causing the dog to look up.

“Shan, I want--Oh, I’m sorry,” you said quickly as you watched your best friend and Banner break apart rapidly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back later,” you offered, already making your way toward the door.

“No! No, that’s fine, Y/N you can come in. Bruce was just trying to convince me to go to the meeting, which by the way you're late to.” She waved you in and then pointed to the time on the clock. “You know Steve is probably looking for you, you better go.”

“Right,” you agreed uneasily. The energy in the room felt off. “Yeah I think we should go, don’t you, Bruce?”

“Huh? Uh. Yeah. We should get down there.”

You eyed him for one more moment before you and he walked down for the meeting, leaving Shannon to think in her room.

———————

You knew Steve, Nat, and Shannon had been watching the pager that Fury left behind. It was constantly paging something or someone and they wanted to find out who. You had to give it to them. They never stopped. Steve and Nat, no matter how broken they were or devastated, they stuck to the mission, the cause -- to get back what we’d lost.

But you couldn’t do it. You just didn’t have it in you anymore. The fight was gone. All you had was finding Thanos, and you had no idea how long that would take. Each passing second you didn’t find him chipped away at your soul, but this was all you had. It was your only hope, your one shot at maybe getting Loki back, getting everyone back, so you had to do it.

Thor...he was beyond pissed. He felt that it was his fault. For the first few hours after it happened, he just kept muttering, “What have I done?” “It’s all my fault”. Some tiny part of you wanted to believe that. You wanted to blame this all on Thor for not aiming for his head. Or blame Wanda for leaving Vision. Or blame Shannon for not fighting harder. Blame anyone, everyone. Someone had to be at fault, right?

But the fact of the matter was, it was your fault. Wanda fought like hell to get to Vision. According to Steve, she held back Thanos (with five of the stones on his hand) with one hand and killed Vision with the other hand. Wanda was only human, her power forged from the mind stone and she was nearly all powerful.

But you? You were a goddess of Asgard. You had the physical strength of Thor, the born powers of bio-kinetic energy, and your purple electric energy was granted by the mind stone. There probably weren’t many out there stronger than you -- but you couldn’t get to Thanos -- at least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

This was your fault. If anyone should’ve been able to kill him, it was you. Wanda, with even less power than you, was able to hold him back successfully. Thor with his new axe could battle the stones and kill him with brute force. There wasn’t one reason in the world you couldn’t kill him.

You should’ve let Nat and Okoye take care of Proxima. You should’ve abandoned the battlefield and waited for Thanos. You should’ve been by Vision’s side and not Wanda.

If any one of those small things had changed, maybe this all would’ve been different.

You heard footsteps approaching and you tensed. You didn’t want to speak to anyone. You hardly ever did. It was almost as if talking would break you. You were lying in bed after a day of training just wishing for some good news.

“Y/N?” Shannon’s soft voice filled your room and you slightly relaxed. “Someone is here. A Carol Danvers? She may be able to help.”

You furrowed your brow before rolling over to get up. You padded down barefoot in your pajamas, your hair unbrushed, but you frankly didn’t give a damn.

Thor, Steve, Nat, Bruce, and Shannon surrounded a blonde woman you’d never seen. Or they faced her at least.

“Y/N, this is Carol. She’s…” Shannon started to explain then it seemed words failed her.

“Long story short, I’m here to help and I’m a friend of Nick Fury’s,” she spoke, filling in the gap.

“So what are you doing here?” you asked, all animation gone from your voice except for a slight wonder. Your hands were stuffed in your hoodie pockets.

“We think she can help find Tony and the rest of them,” Steve stated.

“So you guys said he was in a spaceship? What’d it look like? I can try to track it.”

“Titan… He was going to Titan,” you interjected.

“You’re sure about this?” Steve questioned.

You nodded. “When I was his slave, he talked of his home quite a bit. If Ebony Maw took him and Strange… And he sent Proxima and Corvus to Earth then chances are he wanted them to meet him back on Titan.”

“He told them that,” Thor concurred. “Just before he blew me up with the power stone. He told everyone to meet him on Titan.”

“Alright. I’ve got a starting point,” Carol said with determination before she started to walk away.

Shannon stepped in front of her. “Please, bring Tony back to me. He… I…” But that’s all she could get out before she started to sob. You took a step closer to her and wrapped her in your arms. You gave a look to Carol that granted her permission to leave.

With that, it seemed as if a tinge of hope filled the atmosphere, at least for the rest of the Avengers. Not so much you… well, not you at all.

You walked Shannon back to her room and now it was her turn to grieve. She’d been holding it in for so long, you thought that maybe the idea of hope now was maybe sending her over the edge. If she hoped for Tony and Carol didn’t find him, or worse, found him dead or one of the vanished then she would be crushed. But if she didn’t hope then she felt like she was letting Tony down.

“What if she doesn’t find him?” she asked as she got into bed and you pulled the cover up around her.

“Don’t talk like that,” you gently ordered. “We can take some solace that at least someone out there is looking for him.”

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

It’d been two weeks since Carol showed up and there was still no word back if she’d found Tony or not. Shannon had taken to going outside to look for signs of a ship or refreshing her texts to find out anything. She’s on the verge of giving up. She knew she shouldn’t but this feeling of being useless was getting to her. She’d been seen walking around in Tony”s unwashed shirts and hoodies and some shorts around the compound. No one had the heart to tell her anything. She knew they all pitied the situation.

From her phone she heard Tadashi. “There’s still no signal reaching the transponder, Mrs. Stark.”

“Thank you, Tadashi, please keep searching.”

“Will do, Mrs. Stark.”

While she sat on top of the compound, on the roof, a door shut behind her suddenly. She was going to turn to see who it was, but he spoke quickly, letting her know who it was.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I had no idea you were out here,” he apologized. “I can leave you alone if…” he let the offer hang in the air.

“Hey there, big guy, there’s no need. I”ve been out here alone for too long, keep me company?” She looked up at the man. “Unless you came out here to be alone then I’ll go somewhere else—” She started getting up.

“No. Hey, I interrupted you. Sit,” he gently ordered. He came over and sat beside her. “I thought I’d come out and see… well see if there was any sign of… you know. Had to get some air from trying to find Thanos.”

Shannon flinched at the sound of that name. She didn’t know if she would ever be okay from all of this. “Yeah it’s been heavy with everything lately. Had to leave that building or else I knew I’d end up fighting someone.” She leaned on him taking in his scent of herbal tea and mint. “It’s nice out here, helps clear the mind.”

“That it does,” he agreed looking at the sky. He then dropped his gaze to the rooftop. “Shan… I know I said I’d let you think on this. But.... It’s been two weeks now and… I don’t know. I thought maybe… I just wondered if we don’t hear anything about Tony… in four months, would you want to try a date? If I’m right, I think you feel similarly to how I feel about you. It’s a compromise. I can’t go on wondering, and you shouldn’t go on feeling guilty or wondering if or when you should move on.”

Shannon hid her face inside the hoodie she was sporting and took a deep breath thinking of Tony in that moment. “Well you’ve never been wrong about anything before, I do love you too, Bruce, but I’m still married to Tony…” She looked up at the man. “But if in four months there’s no news from Carol about...you know… then yes I will try going out on a date with you but you have to promise me that I’ll get time to mourn.” She had looked down at her hands fiddling with her ring.

It felt wrong to even be talking about Tony as if he was already gone, as if there was no hope, but Shannon could see with some clarity that these were dark times. Times where every moment was precious and she couldn’t spend it always wondering and holding out hope that may be wasted. While she adored Tony and loved him with every fiber of her being, she also knew she loved Bruce, and had for quite some time. She didn’t see a reason or purpose to rob herself or Bruce of a potential future in a world where futures seemed rather bleak.

“Of course,” he assured. “I’m not trying to get rid of Tony or gloss over your love for him. I know you love him, I know you love him more than me. I just… I don’t want to waste any more time, for either of us, if we can be together. I’ll give you all the time you need. I just needed to know that there was even a chance for us or if… well if I needed to move on.”

“Oh, Bruce, I’m sorry for putting you through all of this.” She had moved to face him properly. “Thank you for being so understanding of this. You’ve been such a stability for me these past two weeks.”

“Of course,” he vowed as he held her tightly in a hug.

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

You were still searching, running calculations, practicing, strengthening... You showered at least, and Shannon forced some soup down you a few times. She said she couldn’t have you dying along with everyone else. You didn’t want to break her heart any further so you ate it, and again, you remembered nutrition was important to your mission.

No news had come from Tony or anyone he might have been with so you dwelled on your anguish. Much to your surprise but not Shannon’s, Steve stopped in to see you. He asked how you were but all you did was start crying - you couldn’t help it. You hated it, you hated him seeing you like this, but at this point, what did it matter?

When you finally gathered yourself, and Steve was rubbing your back soothingly as you leaned over your lab desk, you finally turned your head slightly to face him.

“Steve… I’m so sorry for Bucky and Sam. I hope you don’t hold yourself accountable. You did everything you could. Hell you did more than most.”

He bobbed his head, as if he were wagering whether or not he really did. “I appreciate that. I’m sorry about Loki and Strange.”

You nodded, not wanting to verbally acknowledge them. You knew you couldn’t without bawling, so you just nodded. “And I haven’t said it before, but I’m sorry about New York,” you emphatically said, changing the subject slightly. It’s something you’d wanted to say for a long time.

He waved it off with that all American smile at first but you shook your head.

“No, I’m serious. I’ve never apologized about New York to you and I want you to know it’s something that has haunted me every day. I hope you know that you, Shannon, all of the Avengers… you’re all my friends, you know? Loki… Loki and I, we were brainwashed and if I could take all of it back, believe me, I’d give about anything.”

He nodded, his smile more sincere and sweet as he slowly closed his eyes, his hand still on your back.

“I know, Y/N. I know,” he assured. “I forgave you a long time ago. Both of you. Speaking of things we’ve never said. I don’t think anyone has ever made you an official member of the Avengers, but I’d like you to know I consider you one. You’ve been one since Ultron.”

Your gaze softened on him before you pulled him into an embrace. “Thank you,” you breathed.

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

Shannon had entered your room. It was late, which meant most of the Avengers had gone their separate ways for the evening. It seemed the only time you two could speak was late into the night, probably because you were both obsessed with searching during the day and they were precious hours.

“Y/N/N,” she started solemnly, softly as she sat on the edge of your bed, her eyes on her hands. “It’s been twenty days since… since Thanos… And Tony, Carol… They aren’t…”

“Shannon, you can’t--” You swallowed. “You can’t give up hope. If you give up then I have nothing, okay? Do you hear me? Nothing.”

“I know, but it’s getting so hard since--”

Just then, a rumbling cut her off. The two of you looked at each other as it got closer and louder. After a few seconds, you two realized it might be Carol, so you threw the covers off yourself and you two began running outside. Once you looked up, it was easy to see what had made all that ruckus. A rather large spacecraft was being brought in by Carol. As soon as the craft was sat down, the hatch opened, exposing a very weak Tony leaning on a blue woman. Steve rushed forward, going to Tony’s aid.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You finally felt some semblance of happiness. Tony was alive. Thanos didn’t kill him. He didn’t vanish. He was okay… That could mean that…

But you stopped yourself before you let the thoughts run too wild.

Shannon ran forward to greet him. The two fell into each other’s arms, embracing, kissing briefly. The image sent a surge of warmth through you as well as seething jealousy. Of course you were happy for them. You were thrilled, honestly. But it was hard to be happy for her when you’d lost everything.

Everyone was concerned with Tony’s return, as they should’ve been. Bruce got him hooked up on fluids, Shannon had given him a shower, Steve helped find him some clothes. Everyone agreed that he needed to rest, as did Carol and Nebula before anything was discussed.

None of this was said to you though, because as soon as Tony arrived, your emotions ran wild, forcing you into your room. As soon as the door closed behind you, you broke down. You knew Shannon wouldn’t leave Tony, not tonight, not for you, and she shouldn’t have to.

But you couldn’t help it. This was too painful and somehow… somehow you were bitter and resentful over it all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno @rda1989 @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr @kaelingoat-blog @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo @damalseer @heyitscam99 @yknott81 @sorryimacrapwriter @glitterquadricorn @xxqueenofisolationxx @little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama @bittersweetunicorm @alyssaj23 @sea040561 @princess76179 @thisismysecrethappyplace @sarahp879 @malfoysqueen14 @ellallheart @breezy1415 @marvelmayo @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @cocosierra94 @hardcollectionworldtrash @capsmuscles @marvelloushamilton @paintballkid711

Loki: @lostinspace33 @ultrarebelheart @lenawiinchester @esoltis280 @tngrayson @wangdeasang @harrymewmew @jayfantasyatyourservice

UC: @lokis-high-priestess

#unforeseen chasm #loki fic #loki x reader #Loki Laufeyson #tony stark x ofc #tony stark fic #tony stark #carol danvers #bruce banner #steve rogers #mentions of natasha #mentions of nebula #thor #mentions of tony #mentions of bucky #mentions of thanos

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mrs-dragneel-stark-solo · 5 years ago

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Unforseen Chasm (Part 59)

Part 59 of Unforseen Chasm

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together. Word Count: 4275 Warnings: Language, bad coping mechanisms, grief, depression, lack of motivation, feelings revealed, relationships at stake, tension is high, start of endgame movie, losing hope, hope is brought back, Song for this part: I’ll never love again- Lady Gaga Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my other fic series). first major Collab with my best friend @thorne93 what was first a simple “what if” moment turned into a two year writing session and I’ve never been more prouder of myself than when i started my first series. goes through most of the MCU plots there are some changes to accommodate for what we wanted and there is a bit of a crossover between the MCU and other characters. I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.