#seeing someone i love and always took as a granted fact of my existence slowly losing her autonomy due to dementia and regressing

[femmeterypolka]

ok the thing which fucked me up the most with mouthwashing is anya and how giving curly his painkillers triggers her so much. because of my extremely personal issue problems.

[evco-productions]

“The Lone Ranger” (2013) and the Origins of This Blog

It was July, 2013. I was about to go into the eighth grade. Let’s take a moment and let the ‘Nam flashbacks pass.

Now that we’ve done that, at this particular point in time, I was slowly but surely starting to cultivate my interest in movies. I was going to the theater more frequently with friends and family; even though it was only to see mainstream stuff like the next Mission: Impossible or Despicable Me or Marvel chapter, I was still going.

One movie I was particularly excited for that summer was the remake of The Lone Ranger. Yes, that remake. The one starring Johnny Depp and Armie Hammer (this movie was doomed to fail from the fucking start, wasn’t it?) that you forgot even happened.

I was excited for this movie because I liked Westerns. I’ve always had a special place in my heart for Westerns. In fact, if you track back to my early childhood, that was probably where my love for cinema actually started. Every time I went over to my grandparents’ house, my granddad would have a John Wayne or a Clint Eastwood movie on and he would watch them with such interest that I couldn’t help but do the same. To this day, whenever I find a good Western, I experience such strong feelings of delight and excitement. If you ask me, there’s still no more thrilling a trope for an action movie to do than a quickdraw shootout. That long moment of intense silence where both you and the characters know someone is going to die, and then finally the lightning-fast movements of both characters followed by gunfire…it captures my full attention every time.

We also had the first season of the old 1950s Lone Ranger show on DVD, so unlike a lot of people whom Disney no doubt wished would have seen this movie, I actually knew a little about who the Lone Ranger was as a character.

So, I went to the theater and I saw this movie. And then I saw it a second time. And then a third time. Three times in all. I think that was the first time I’d ever seen a single movie in the theater that many times.

I kid you not: when the credits rolled, there was a standing ovation every. Single. Time. That is completely true. There’s pretty much no way for me to prove it…but it’s true.

And I think that was it: I think that was the moment the seed for this blog was planted. Because I looked up at the screen and behold, I saw a movie reviled by critics both professional and not-professional. But those critics were faceless. Not to say they aren’t people existing in the same dimension as you and me, but nevertheless they weren’t there. But I was there in a theater full of people who enjoyed themselves so much they had to clap to let it all out even though no one who had anything to do with the making of the movie was in the room to hear it. And I didn’t have the words as a thirteen-year-old kid, but if I had, I would have asked myself, “How is this not valid?”

Obviously, this doesn’t just apply to The Lone Ranger. I won’t die on that hill. You don’t have to like that movie. But how many dozens of other movies are out there whose tale of woe is exactly the same? And the chances that you would agree with the critics out there and despise all of them? Pretty much nonexistent. Everyone has missed out on a good movie at some point in their life because they took someone else’s review for granted. Why do we do that? Why do we let other people tell us what to like? Even worse…what to try to like? There’s nothing wrong with sharing and comparing opinions. If I thought there was, I wouldn’t be writing this. But to take those opinions at their word just…because? That doesn’t sit right with me. Maybe because if we’re willing to take total strangers at their word when it comes to our entertainment…what else might we be willing to take their word on?

You can’t ever put knowledge in a bottle and twist the cap closed. Knowledge is infinite. You’ll never know everything there is to know. I’ll never see every movie there is to see. That’s why it doesn’t matter how little or greatly you choose to diversify your watchlist. Whether you only watch American-made movies or you throw a little French new wave in there doesn’t make a difference. You’ll never be an expert, it’s not about that. It’s about why you’re watching what you’ve chosen to watch.

Are you watching it because you’re interested in it or because someone told you that you should be? Are you not watching it because you’re disinterested in it, or because someone told you that you shouldn’t be?

If you’ve never asked yourself those questions, I encourage you to begin now. Don’t miss out on good movies just because someone else doesn’t think they’re good.

[kyrodo]

If there's anything I learned from 2020, it's take your time with people. Granted I was depressed angry and not in a good mental state back then which is why I ended up in a lot of cyclical rants that I could not stop myself from doing almost every day. But it doesn't change the fact that you can't force your way into someone else's life. You can't act familiar with people you just met or only barely started interacting with. You can't expect welcoming treatment from people that don't want you there.

I had a heart. I fell for someone out of desperation, out of this wanton desire to find someone to fulfill a void left behind by moving away from all the friends I used to hang out with. And that made it very difficult despite all the times I tried to delete or lock my account to avoid stalking the person I liked. The feeling was fresh and strong enough that the curiosity always got the better of me, and my emotional state was in some ways relieved to an extent by being able to see the other person's posts and activity.

It also holds true for EnternodeCS and VeraLycaon and TuccLux that I've had crushes on since that event that I did not attempt to confess to. Whenever I like someone for whatever reason I want to check up on them. And those kinds of activities can be frowned upon and reacted to very negatively, especially once you've worn out your welcome. And being blocked or someone locking their account should ideally be the point at which I stop trying to contact someone. Logically anyway. Emotionally I didn't feel like I had much choice. Emotionally the thoughts were so strong, the curiosities were so strong, and what little signs of interaction we had were so vivid that I had to keep checking if there was anything directed at me. And usually there always was. I had no such similar interaction with any of the aformentioned crushes since then.

The fact that I confessed is also the biggest issue. The fact that I committed and acted upon my feelings and put all my hopes on them giving a positive response. That act alone doomed me to continue, and amplified my emotions out of control. Gave me this spark of hope that was very much ill-conceived. And the fact that I knew so little about the person that I liked did not help my case at all. It put me at the complete mercy of them always being kind with me. And most of the time they weren't. And to be fair I wasn't acting very mature about my feelings nor about the overhead of having an existing mate. I wasn't acting mature in general. Everything about how I was behaving and how I was portraying myself. How extra I was being was extremely unattractive and not indicative of a healthy relationship being able to form from it. And I always went from 0 to 100 in most cases. My anxiety was always on full display. And yet I was still trying to push forth something that I didn't make look feasible. I didn't like all the times I was being blatantly gaslighted but I should've taken that into account before I continued attempting to interact. I should've taken that as a sign that this was not meant to be.

And things obviously went extremely well with Choskey. I still have Red I've been slowly attempting to smooth over Red's side of things more. He acts passive aggressive way more often ever since his father's death. Choskey very much embodies receptive love in every possible way it could be expressed. It's been 2 months and I'm clearly a drug he's addicted to and incredibly happy about. And it's so natural. We can't stop expressing how we feel for each other and that's incredible. Even with Kara, I always felt like I was overdoing it when I always took too long to say good night and tell her my romantic feelings. With Red, it ended up being Red who did most of the love expressing before I could get to it, and that was a welcome change. But trying to do it back was a bit harder because of the dynamic of master and pet and me being the lower submissive one. I couldn't treat it the same way I approached it with Freedom/Kara/Miranthia.

With Choskey it feels so natural. That we can fully express how we feel and do it constantly and just feel happy every time we express it and not feel like we're doing it too much. Choskey again expresses it more than I do but I can approach it in a way that I'm taking care of him rather than being taken care of. And that offers me a way to express love in a way that I can't do as easily with Red. I like having both. I like being on both ends and that's why it's a very good thing that I have them both.

My journey to Choskey's heart took a lot longer than it did with my 2020 crush. I never pushed for anything. I never pushed him into anything. In fact I didn't even confess, it was him that did it instead. I didn't come to him spouting my entire life story to him. He did learn a lot about me, but it was paced. It was bits at a time as we took our time with each other. I've always taken my time with him. I've always held my tongue even when I was mad usually due to his gaming banter. I've always been patient with him, I gave him all these first time experiences and helped him a lot with his class work. But there were no conditions. He stayed in call with me on our discord server of his own accord. Everything we did together was always of his own accord. And that made a world of difference.

In a sense that was indeed what my earlier crush tried to get me to do. Everything was always of my own accord. But I was always punished for it, in excess. Sometimes without any warning, sometimes with every sign that things were going to go well by the crush themselves beforehand in the indirect ways we communicated. But I can see a lot of problems in the way that I was acting to the point that sometimes it's easy to see why. Why I was such a volatile thing to juggle around for them with these grandiose reactions to everything expressed in overly extra ways.

I was very careful with Choskey. So careful. So mellow. So toned down, so down to earth, so simple and straight forward and always so polite and kind. To the point that besides my imperfect gaming skills, I was basically perfect to them. The person that I wish I could've been far earlier I get to live out and see how much better things really are. Choskey is easier to deal with than Ult in a lot of other ways including overall temperment, but the biggest thing is I was better. I was always a good friend to him. I always took my time with him. I was always patient with him. I was always easy to talk to and share everything with. I always listened to him.

I always did my best for him. I always tried to show my best side for him. And even when I was mad at him, I displayed it in a way that made him think more about his side of things rather than mine. I always pulled my punches, show self respect but kept my doors opened rather than closed. And from that true love grew. I excite him every time I speak. He loves every little thing about me so wholly and so fully. He embraces me so readily and so strongly. I proceeded in a way that Red could still be with me. And I've more than outdone myself. And there is a solid path forward. And I've experienced immense happiness. These feelings are so raw and so powerful and so received and welcome. I feel the butterflies inside and they glow so warmly, so vividly. And it is so clear that we can get along so well, gaming banter aside. It is so easy to be around him and bask in this deep romance with him. It is so easy to excite him and press his buttons too. We are meant for each other. I've wanted this so bad, and he's wanted this for his entire life. And I can be the one to love him.

It is very clear to me everything that went wrong on either side of things back then, but there are things I can do for myself that make things socially so much more successful. Always take your time with people, and never try to be where you don't belong. Kindness, patience, flexibility, understanding, communication, these are all things that you can't do without when you want something to go well. Things you need in abundance. And to Choskey I embody every single one of those things. What little competition I had fell away very quickly and this is very much why. Our love is so incredibly secure that we would stick together in multiple lifetimes. And this is how it's done. There's literally nothing I could do better. And it's sustainable, it feels so natural, it's easy, it's satisfying, and this is my life now.

[sansaorgana]

— THANK GODS (II)

PART ONE

PAIRING — Marc Spector x fem!Reader // Steven Grant x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Marc knows that in order to make this relationship work, he cannot lie to his girlfriend and must confess the truth about Steven. He quickly realizes that maybe his alter is actually a better match for her than him, which leads to a misunderstanding. Will Khonshu and Sekhmet save their relationship once again?

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I am still shocked that the first part got so many notes, I am grateful! 💗 Many people told me they’d like to see the Reader meeting Steven and I loved the idea of that as well, so here we go! 😊

WORD COUNT — 4,380

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THANK GODS (II)

Marc Spector never expected to love and to be loved in return. This whole thing still felt brand new and completely overwhelming to him. How he was always welcome at (Y/N)’s flat and how she seemed to always be waiting for him. How she – understanding very well what it meant to be an avatar – gave him his own space and didn’t insist on seeing him every day. How her flat seemed to change in order to suit him better as well, he noticed. There were always freshly baked cakes or cupcakes and she emptied a few drawers in her wardrobe just for him.

When she opened the door one day; with flour on her cheeks, wearing an apron with an adorable flower pattern, embarrassed that he witnessed her in such a state… Something broke in Marc that day because he thought he didn’t deserve his own luck and despite that he still managed to lie to her.

Sekhmet had told (Y/N) a lot about Marc but because she had told her about his childhood and his job, (Y/N) already assumed that was everything there to know. She didn’t know about Steven and Marc wanted it to stay this way. In fact, he wanted to ditch Steven for her and pretend that he had never existed.

However, he couldn’t. Steven had been the most important person in his life for such a long time that he couldn’t just abandon him. Also, considering the fact that Steven still had no idea about Marc, he would often take over the body without asking for a permission.

Instead, Marc started to slowly work on his relationship with Steven. He made him realize about their situation and he hoped to tame his alter this way. But Steven was taking a long time to grow trust and Marc couldn’t blame him.

“It’s about this girl, Steven. I don’t want to lie to her,” Marc explained.

“Well, then don’t lie to her,” Steven’s reflection in the mirror shrugged his arms.

“How do you even tell a girl about such a thing?”

“You just tell her and if she reacts badly, you turn it into a joke, dunno.”

“Brilliant advice, buddy,” Marc gritted his teeth.

And there he was, standing in front of (Y/N)’s door, squeezing the flower bouquet in his hands, feeling like an idiot. He had never expected to buy any woman flowers like that without occasion. What would she even think about it…?

(Y/N) opened the door and froze at the sight of him before letting out a chuckle.

“Marc Spector? Unlikely. Has someone switched bodies with you?” she giggled and pulled him inside, not aware of how sweaty her comment had made him.

“I… Well, I just… I wanted you to have them,” he handed the bouquet to her quickly like an awkward school boy but she found it adorable.

“That’s… That’s very kind of you. I’ve never gotten a bouquet from a man before,” she confessed.

“Buy her more flowers. Noted,” Marc thought.

(Y/N) took the flowers to the kitchen to put them in a vase. Marc took a deep breath in and followed her reluctantly to lean on the doorframe.

“Hm?” she asked.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he swallowed thickly and her heart froze in her chest.

She hated herself for it but her eyes immediately filled with tears. She had spent so much time hating this man and now, when he was hers, she couldn’t picture her life without him.

Marc Spector didn’t know about that but he had brought sunshine to her life. Yes, he was grumpy and quite distanced emotionally but for her it was more than enough. Every day at the bookstore seemed to be nicer now when she had a man to think about, remember his touch and sweet kisses. She was coming back home without any burden on her shoulders nor any worries. She hoped to see him after work and even when he wouldn’t come, she was cleaning the flat and baking him pies. She finally had a purpose in life. She had somebody. It felt too good to be real… The end of all that loneliness. Such things only happened in the movies after all, didn’t they?

“Y-yes?” she sniffled her tears back and refused to turn around to face him.

Marc furrowed his brow and took a deep breath in. She seemed to be upset. What he was about to tell her, would only upset her more…

“Khonshu wants me to go on a mission for a few days. Just me this time,” he made up a lie quickly and closed his eyes, feeling like an absolute idiot.

“Congratulations, mate,” Steven’s ironic voice filled his head.

“Oh!” (Y/N) sighed with relief and turned around to put her arms around Marc’s neck and hug him tight. “It’s alright! Just please, send me text messages, okay? I’ll be worried sick and I’m going to miss you!”

“Yes, of course, baby,” he hugged her back, cursing himself in his thoughts.

(Y/N) had a few days only for herself, thinking that Marc was in Egypt when in fact, he was spending all his days in his flat and feeling like a complete asshole.

She took this opportunity to walk around the city a bit and visit her favorite spots that she lately hadn’t had time to go to; too occupied by her relationship with Marc.

One of the places was a small vintage store nearby the Museum. She walked inside and started to look at all the trinkets when Steven Grant spotted her.

He went there after work to look for this one specific book about ancient Egypt when he saw her one alley away, tracing a little porcelain figure of a cat with her fingertips. His heart froze in his chest. Shit, she was Marc’s girlfriend.

He tried to leave the store as fast as he could without gathering any attention but on his way out he clumsily tripped and pushed one of the shelves with his hip accidentally, which ended up making lots of noise.

(Y/N) turned around to spot the source of that sound and when she laid her eyes on Steven, they both felt and looked like deers caught in headlights.

“M-Marc…?” she stuttered out and approached him quickly. She wasn’t sure because although this man looked like Marc… at the same time he didn’t. There was something completely different about him, including his clothes.

“Um… No, love, I’m Steven,” he didn’t know what to do.

“What’s with that accent?” (Y/N) laughed. “You were supposed to be in Egypt…?”

“Marc… Help! Help!” Steven called inside his head but Marc wasn’t present at that time. “You useless prick.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steven could feel his cheeks burning. “I don’t believe I know you anyway,” he blurted out and left the store in a hurry but the image of (Y/N)’s surprised and quite devastated face was haunting.

He stopped himself and took a deep breath in before going back to the store and facing her; still standing in the same spot as before like she was a marble statue.

“Okay, listen, we have to talk,” he told her. “I’ll explain everything because that knob Marc doesn’t seem to have enough balls to do it,” he said.

“That’s… That’s confusing…” she whispered.

“I know, love, I’m sorry. Let’s go, come on. There’s this nice cafe nearby…”

“I know!” her eyes sparkled suddenly. “It’s one of my favorites! It’s so cozy and quiet.”

“It’s one of my favorites, too,” Steven smiled gently.

God, he shouldn’t have such thoughts. She was Marc’s girlfriend but… she was adorable.

“So… I’m supposed to treat you like two different people?” (Y/N) took a sip of her coffee and batted her eyelashes at Steven.

God, she shouldn’t had done that. She was Marc’s girlfriend but… Steven was so charming and the fact that, well, he kind of was Marc anyway… No, those were just stupid excuses. What was happening to her?

“I know it’s a lot, love,” Steven sighed. “You don’t have to do this. Marc will understand.”

“No!” (Y/N) protested. “I won’t give up on him so easily,” she stated. “That would be cruel. Relationships are hard work and I am willing to accept Marc the way he is because he did the same to me,” she added softly.

Steven made puppy eyes at her unwillingly. Marc was so fucking lucky.

“It’s just a lot for me to process now,” she explained. “I think I’ll go home and think it all over,” she stood up from the table. “Will we meet again?” she bit on her lower lip.

“I think so. I don’t know. Maybe Marc will want you all to himself.”

(Y/N) only nodded and gave him one more smile before going out of the cafe.

Marc visited (Y/N) on the very next day in the morning since it was Sunday and she wasn’t working. He already knew about what Steven had done and as much as he was grateful that the truth had come out, he was still terrified and wanted to have a word with his girlfriend.

“Oh, hi,” she greeted him after opening the door. Of course it was Marc; she could recognize him by the look in his eyes alone. But he also had different clothes than the man she had met on the previous day and he had a different posture. He looked quite intimidating, meanwhile Steven looked very quiet and shy. “How was it in Egypt?” she teased and crossed her arms.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he winced at the words like it was difficult to say them. “I was scared, I lied to you. I wasn’t in Egypt.”

“No shit,” she raised an eyebrow.

“So you won’t let me inside?”

“What? Oh…! No, no, come in,” she finally moved aside so he could enter her flat. (Y/N) closed the door after him and she hugged him immediately after. Marc was surprised by that and stood still, petrified. “You don’t have to be scared of me, Marc Spector,” she whispered with her face nuzzled in the crook of his neck. “I take you the way you are.”

He took a deep breath in and finally wrapped his arms around her to pull her even closer, to breathe in her scent and let himself feel at peace for the first time since he couldn’t remember when. Perhaps the first time in his whole life he had someone accepting him fully.

“I like him, by the way,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“I like Steven. He’s very nice and kind and oh…” she took a step back to look into his confused eyes, “it makes me love you even more, Marc, knowing that you created a person like him, he is so joyful and pure and therefore, you must be, too, somewhere here,” she placed her hand on his chest to cover his heart.

“Oh, that… Yeah, I mean, I don’t know…” he blinked a few times to dry his fresh tears. “I’m glad you liked him. I know you two have more in common…”

“Don’t say that, baby, you’re my boyfriend,” she cupped his face to give him a dozen tiny kisses. “I only wanted to say that you don’t have to hide him from me, you know?”

“Come to my place,” Marc proposed suddenly and (Y/N)’s eyes sparkled. She had never been invited there. “It’s actually Steven’s place, you know. Come,” he insisted and pulled her sleeve.

“Okay, okay! Just let me feed my cats so they won’t be hungry for the whole day! And does he have a nice kitchen, that Steven? I wanted to cook something for dinner,” she left his side to approach the fridge and take out a can of cat’s food.

“We’ll order something,” Marc said and (Y/N) nodded.

She was walking around the flat and shaking her head at the mess, muttering something about living like an animal under her breath and Marc found it adorable. Other than that, she loved Gus and she loved how everything in that flat seemed to be about ancient Egypt. Even the phone case of Steven’s phone.

“Are you sure he doesn’t mind me lurking around?” she asked Marc.

“Actually, he’s very excited. You can spend some time with him if you want to,” he smiled gently.

“Oh, really?!” she almost jumped up from the joy as her eyes lightened up. She didn’t mean anything bad by that but Marc noticed and it made him both sad and happy at the same time. Happy that Steven would finally get what he deserved the most but sad because he would lose her soon. However, Steven’s happiness was more important than his.

“Hi, love,” Steven took over the body and greeted her as she giggled. “You look bloody gorgeous today, you know?” he dared to say and, surprisingly, Marc’s voice inside his head remained quiet.

“Oh, please, look who’s talking,” (Y/N) laughed. “So, I believe you’re really into ancient Egypt? Why is your fish named Gus? Why is it so messy here? Would you want me to clean the place a bit?” she sounded overexcited and Steven started to fall in love. Hard.

So overwhelmed with the fact she was having in fact two boyfriends, (Y/N) didn’t notice that Marc gradually stopped fronting. And when one night her lips joined with Steven’s in a sweet and gentle kiss, she didn’t even feel guilty because she thought that was what Marc wanted – for her to love them both. However, after that night Marc stopped showing up at all. It was only Steven.

“Is Marc angry at me?” she asked Steven the other day.

“What? No! I think he just needs some time for himself, you know what he’s like sometimes,” Steven chuckled nervously.

“Yeah, I know…” (Y/N) sighed. She missed Marc and she could feel that something was wrong but after all, Steven knew him better than anyone.

Meanwhile Steven couldn’t really tell what was wrong with Marc because Marc seemed to be very quiet these days. It was almost like he had disappeared for good.

“Let’s go to this new exhibition at the museum,” he proposed to cheer her up. “And after that, we can get veggie burgers.”

“Oh, sounds lovely!” (Y/N) kissed his cheek and grabbed his hand.

Having her around made Steven feel like he was suddenly ten feet tall. His heart was so full it would explode any given moment. He had a woman for himself, a woman to love and take care of, a woman that was so good to him, baking cakes for him and cleaning his flat even when he was practically begging her to leave it; he hated to see her doing that. But she was stubborn, and kept saying that he and Marc couldn’t live like this.

Oh, and the fact she was an avatar of Sekhmet? It was making everything ten times better. He couldn’t believe that a woman so badass wanted a clumsy lad like him around but she seemed not to mind at all and, in fact, she never missed an opportunity to compliment him to boost his self-esteem and he returned the favor.

They were made for each other.

“What’s troubling you, kitten?” Sekhmet sighed and sat on the edge of (Y/N)’s bed, watching her avatar getting dressed for work.

“Nothing’s troubling me,” (Y/N) shrugged her arms. “What do you want?”

“I might need you to skip work today because there’s other work to do,” the lion-goddess informed her and (Y/N) sighed.

“What work and where?”

“Well, not so fast. You might need Marc Spector for that,” Sekhmet stood up to stand behind her avatar.

“Marc doesn’t want to see me,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “He's been like that for some time now, I don’t know what his problem is.”

“We will need him,” Sekhmet whispered. “You will need him.”

“What are you on about? Is that part of your scheming again?!” (Y/N) turned around angrily to face the goddess. “Stop messing with my private life!”

“I want you to be happy. You were happy with him.”

“I’m happy with Steven, too. Marc abandoned me without a word, he doesn’t want me,” (Y/N)’s eyes filled with tears. “I gave him nothing but love… All of him… And he just left without a word.”

“Therefore, I think working together might give you an opportunity to talk it through,” Sekhmet pointed out. “He will come. Kohnshu will convince him.”

“Why do you two care so much about it, huh?” (Y/N) wiped her cheeks with the palms of her hands.

“You were right on that night when we made you sleep with Marc,” Sekhmet looked down and (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “We feel through you.”

“Oh! Brilliant! So me and Marc, our feelings and wants, they don’t matter! You both just want us to be together so you can feel through us when we kiss and when we… Oh my God, that’s actually gross!” (Y/N) yelled at her. “And it’s called manipulation! All this time I thought you actually cared about me, you know?!”

“Don’t be upset, kitten. I know you truly love him and he truly loves you. You weren’t manipulated into love,” Sekhmet tried to calm her avatar down.

“I will do that work for you because that’s my duty as your avatar and if we need Marc Spector then fine, but I won’t sleep in the same hotel as him and I will only meet him at the place of our work so you two can’t mess too much again,” (Y/N) pointed her finger at the goddess.

Wrath Lioness. That’s what (Y/N) was being called like when she was Sekhmet’s avatar. The goddess of destruction and war. (Y/N) felt very small wearing that suit because she knew perfectly well what kind of people had used to wear that suit centuries ago. Warriors and priestesses of noble blood filled with rage and the need of revenge, hungry for the fervor of the fight. She was just (Y/N)... She worked at the bookstore.

She still didn’t know why Sekhmet chose her out of all the people.

However, there was something powerful about the suit, too, and she didn’t mean its healing abilities by that. It was a golden armor with a lion’s head engraved on the chest. There was a golden headband that looked like two golden snakes with scarlett eyes were wrapped around her head. There was a dark red cape and two very vicious weapons – long and curved scythes made of gold; like lion’s claws. Wearing that suit made (Y/N) feel like a goddess herself.

And when she was running, she felt like a lioness indeed. She was fast and her jumps were spectacular as the cape fluttered behind her. Dark red cape like dark red was the blood of Sekhmet’s enemies leaving a trace behind her.

She kept on running through the desert, knowing very well already that she was late but what would Marc do? He had no other choice but to wait for her.

He was in his Moon Knight’s suit but without his headpiece on. He looked impatient when she spotted him… and totally pissed. Typical Marc Spector from the times before they had been together.

(Y/N) furrowed her brow and jumped down from the edge of the hill. She landed on her fours next to him and got up graciously like a real feline would.

“Sorry I’m late,” she greeted him.

“Thirty minutes. Not your record, though,” Marc pointed out coldly and she could feel her heart squeezing in her chest.

“What’s wrong with you, Marc?” she asked and he furrowed his brow. “Yes, I’m talking to you. What the hell? Why are you acting like this? Like there was never anything between us? Like we’re back at that point where we hated each other?”

“I don’t hate you, I never did,” Marc crossed his arms.

“Me neither,” she pointed out. “Baby, I don’t know what’s going on and Steven doesn’t know either, but I miss you,” she dared to approach him and put her hands on his wrists. “Why did you leave me? At least tell me why so I don’t spend my nights overthinking.”

“Because you fit Steven better. You like him more, too. And to be honest, I think you were always destined to be his and not mine,” Marc swallowed thickly and looked away. “Let’s go to work now,” he added and tried to get away from her touch.

“Wait, no!” she squeezed him tighter. “I thought you wanted me to love you both? That we would all share? I’m sorry if I misunderstood…” she bit on her lower lip as tears filled her eyes. “Oh God, it’s all my fault, isn’t it? I messed up…”

“No, you didn’t. Steven is happy and that’s all that matters to me,” Marc sighed. “Listen, we must finish the work before the sunrise.”

“I don’t care about that stupid work!” (Y/N) sniffled. “Do you know they are using us? Khonshu and Sekhmet? They want us to be together because they feel through us, I knew it.”

“What are you talking about?” Marc froze and furrowed his brows.

“She confessed that to me! That’s awful, isn’t it? But I really love you! I love you, I miss you, I don’t want to choose between you and Steven and I didn’t know I had to… I’m so sorry, I messed up!” she burst into tears and finally let him go to hide her face in her hands.

Marc sighed and stood still for a moment, overthinking everything.

He couldn’t believe she actually wanted him, too, when she already had Steven. Steven was perfect for her and what was he but a grumpy addition that kept hurting her all the time?

“I don’t mind sharing you with Steven, baby,” he held her hands to move them away from her face. Oh, how it hurt to see her like that “I just wanted to give you both some space. I didn’t expect you to miss me, that’s all.”

“B-but I love you… How could you think that…?” she gasped. “Oh, Marc Spector, I would give everything for one day where you could see yourself through my eyes and realize how much I love you!” she cupped his face to bring it closer to hers before kissing him. “Please, don’t you ever leave me again, please, please, please…”

“I won’t,” he whispered back and cupped her face as well to wipe her wet cheeks with his thumb. “I won’t, baby.”

“What will we do about Sekhmet and Khonshu, though?” (Y/N) asked. “I don’t like being manipulated.”

“First time for you?” Marc laughed a bit and she cracked a smile. “That’s what gods do.”

“And why are you so angry about it again?” Sekhmet’s sigh made them both turn around.

She was sitting on a rock and wiggling her legs. Khonshu stood behind her and they both chuckled.

“Haven’t we saved you once again, idiots?” she added.

“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” (Y/N) snapped at her. “Better tell us what’s the job.”

Sekhmet and Khonshu looked at each other before laughing out loud.

“What’s so funny?” Marc barked at him.

“The job’s done,” Sekhmet shrugged her arms. “You finally explained everything to yourselves and oh, look at you, so adorable together. Such a deadly power couple in those cute suits.”

“You’re really a bitch,” (Y/N) gritted her teeth.

“Oh, am I?” Sekhmet raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you’d fix this mess by yourself?”

“N-no…” the girl admitted and looked down where her hand was intertwined with Marc’s.

“Now, shoo, back to the hotel and celebrate or something,” Khonshu added and Marc gave him a deadly look.

“Do you need my help with that, baby?” Marc asked, concerned, although he was already holding two boxes.

“It’s fine. It’s almost empty and don’t forget I’m an avatar of the warrior goddess,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and put the box down on the carpet. Her cats were running around, sniffing everything and looking up, making wide eyes.

“I hope they won’t eat Gus,” Marc put the boxes down as well and scratched the back of his head.

“We’ll put Gus in a safe place, don’t you worry,” (Y/N) approached him to put her arms around him and place a kiss on his cheek. “You’re so adorable when you worry.”

“I worry all the time,” he sighed.

“Mhm. Exactly, so adorable. Although I wish you weren’t so stressed. Everything will be fine, baby,” she tried to convince him.

“I’m just… You know how messy Steven and I can be… I don’t want you to be angry at us.”

“Then stop being so messy!” (Y/N) giggled and kissed the top of his nose. “Anyway, it’s not a reason to throw my favorite boys out, is it?” she teased. “Now it’s time to unpack all of Steven’s books.”

“Ah, yeah. He’ll help you with that. I honestly don’t know what to do with them,” Marc winked at her and she could feel his body tensing before relaxing in her arms again. “Hi, love, need my help with the books, I’ve heard?” Steven asked.

“Yes, I emptied a few of my bookshelves but you have to put yours there on your own. We all have our own pattern of that. Oh, also, I think I found a good place for Gus, you know, where my kittens won’t eat him.”

“Ah yes, those monsters,” Steven laughed and crouched down to pet one of the cats. When he looked up, (Y/N) was standing in the middle of the room, petrified. “H-hey, I was joking…”

“I know,” she smiled softly. “I just… I don’t know… I’m so happy,” she confessed.

“We are happy, too, love,” Steven smiled back at her widely.

Oh, how wonderful it felt to move in together and to realize that the days of heart-wrenching loneliness were about to end for them all.

MASTERLIST

[tranquil-turbulence]

SasuSaku Month ‘22 Day 25

Day 24 | Day 26

Day 25 Prompt: Watch

-Canon Divergence, Shippuden-

"You shouldn't be here."

Her voice was so soft she could scarcely be heard, yet he turned his head her way as she took her seat in the treetop, feet swaying lazily back and forth.

Sakura didn't spare him a glance even as he took a step closer. Her visage was set, lips pressed into a grim line and eyes narrowed on the horizon. Her hands, though relaxed, still rested at her sides in a silent warning: try anything, and we fight.

Sasuke almost wanted to laugh at the sentiment; her skills were hardly comparable to his own in any formidable way. The path she walked was a more innocent one, of home and safety and friends and love - and he was molded in the darkness, empowered by it and steeped in potent hatred.

He had flourished. Yet so had she.

He could see it in the ways her alert gaze swept across the forest floor, in the way she quickly, quietly, cast a genjutsu about the area and went to work setting traps to deter unlucky shinobi aiming for a quick and easy kill. He could see it even now in the way she spoke to him with no ounce of affection or longing, voice cold and flat as if she were speaking to just another enemy to defeat.

What had happened to her since his departure? A part of his heart, one still stubbornly clinging to existence, mourned at how his sweet, innocent teammate had shed that persona. He immediately stamped it back down.

"You shouldn't be here," she repeated slowly, each word emphasized with a weight that she never used to carry for him.

"Aa," he finally responded, just as quietly as she.

Sakura didn't answer his goading, didn't stoop to get angry at him for 'using non-words' like she would have five years ago.

Instead she heaved a silent sigh through her nose, and finally turned her head to look at him.

Her eyes granted him no reprieve - internally he tensed as soon as they locked gazes, sensing the latent anger kindling within. Her hood still shadowed most of her face, but her soft pink hair fell about her neck, a familiar sight that seemed so solemn now that they were finally within each other's radius.

He had chosen his side.

The diamond she bore on her brow glowed faintly in the shadows, a soft mint that called to mind her own master's incredible healing. It thrummed with power, pulsed with a chakra so strong it subconsciously tugged at his own. Unconsciously, he pushed back against it - and her eyes narrowed in warning, fingers twitching at her holsters.

She chose hers.

"Why are you here now, Sasuke?" She questioned scant louder than a whisper. "To taunt me? To kill me, as your master killed mine?"

Why are you here?

He could not answer.

At his silence, she scoffed a laugh. "I should know better. Forgive me of expecting any answers out of you. You've never been one to grant me even that."

His own brow furrowed in irritation. "Don't substitute my words for your own, Sakura. You know better than this."

"Do I?" She challenged, her body scooting across the limb as she turned fully to face him. "I'm not sure I ever did."

"In fact, I never knew you, or Naruto," she continued sardonically. "I never knew the pain of loss. I knew neglect, I knew bullying - but I never knew the kind of loss you did. I never knew you."

Flashbacks echoed across his mind; flashes of Sakura, young and timid, hiding behind pillars and poles and just watching. Always watching. Her young, innocent gaze burned even as he remembered now.

"I never knew what it was to lose someone who loves you..." she paused, swallowing. Her eyes did not water. "I never knew... not until my master died."

The Slug Princess, Orochimaru had sneered in disdain once. Head full of dreams, heart full of fire - yet there was never enough room for bravery. She died a coward, he'd claimed - and a fool, for believing for so long in a Will of Fire.

It seemed painfully ironic, now - Tsunade's face had reminded him so much of the Sakura he knew. Stubborn and defiant until the end, never once giving up hope, never once willing to lie down and die. It had truly panged emptily in his heart when Orochimaru killed her; the lack of any remorse on his master's face gnawed at that tiny piece of his heart that remained, whispered, is this what you want to become?

Do you truly want to kill the last of your bonds?

Four years ago, he'd have confidently said yes, without any shred of doubt in his mind. Five years ago, he'd have wavered, unsure of himself and his motives, but eventually might have said no.

If he'd said no... would Tsunade still be alive? Would his heart not feel so frozen and empty?

"I don't love you anymore," Sakura stated, a flash of pain in her eyes as she reached for where her heart should be under her robes. "I don't."

Her words rung hollow. Did he believe them? Did she?

"You killed the last of my hope with Tsunade-shishou." Her voice, trembling, a whisper, made him take a step closer.

"She was weak," he heard himself spit. "Her faith was hollow and shakable. It's no wonder she lost so readily to Orochimaru."

The pinkette's eyes burned with an anger so hot he could feel it even down below, a flash of heat against the cool of the night.

"Do not speak of her that way," she snarled, and there it was; there was the hot-tempered Sakura he knew. "You would know nothing of faith, Sasuke. Not with how easily you gave it up."

"I was a fool," he snapped back, hands clenching. "I foolishly clung to dreams and hopes and it shadowed my eyes to the true nature of this life. You hang on so desperately to your pitiful Will of Fire and allow it to blind you to reality. Had I stayed - I would have been just as weak as you still allow yourself to be."

"Do not," she said quietly, firmly, "call me weak."

"Are you still scared to hear the truth?"

"Nothing scares me more than seeing the monster you've become, Sasuke!" She exclaimed.

In one movement, she leapt from the branch and landed before him. Her eyes blazed with a deep fury as she raised a hand and stabbed a finger into his chest. The dull pain ebbed away just as quickly as his surprise at seeing her move so fast.

"Did our year as a team mean nothing in the end?" She questioned. "Don't answer. I don't care to hear any excuses of weakness or complacency. You had a life with us, Sasuke - you had a better life. Naruto adored you - he always wanted to be just like you! Cool, calm, collected, powerful - not a day goes by that he doesn't mention how desperately he wishes he knew where the two of you stand. He doesn't just want to fight you - he wants you to let him in!"

"Naruto is an idiot," he spat.

"The only idiot here is you!" She shouted, poking him again. This time, it stung a little more - she must have used chakra. "Damn it, Sasuke, has that horrid snake brainwashed you so deeply that you reject even the idea that you might have been happy in Konoha?!"

Her tirade abruptly stopped with a choked gasp from her throat as he snatched up her hand into his, fingers clenching down tightly around hers in an almost crushing grip.

Their lips met, a bruising kiss full of frustration and power, and an indignant squeal rippled through her throat that he ignored in favor of yanking her hair through his fingers and pulling her closer.

She beat on his chest with her free hand, each blow more painful than the last - and all at once he let go of her with a sharp grunt as pain exploded between his legs.

Sasuke crumpled to the ground with a hiss through his teeth as Sakura stepped back, eyes wide and full of emotion.

"How..." her voice trembled with something. Anger? Fear? "How... dare you?"

"How dare you?" She shouted, cracking her knuckles. "Orochimaru really has brainwashed you, if you honestly believe that's going to work on me!"

"You would not..." he grunted slowly, "... have reacted if your words were true."

She stopped short, mouth open, and he could practically feel her taking a mental step back as she slowly closed her lips and stared at the ground with shaking fists.

"I don't love you anymore," she spat, almost as if trying to convince herself. "You helped kill my master. You killed the only woman who has ever said she was proud of me and meant it. Not even Kakashi-sensei treated me that way. How dare you take away my last sense of happiness?"

"Life is far crueler than I," Sasuke retorted as he slowly staggered to his feet. Luckily the flash of nausea and white-hot agony between his legs was almost abated. "If it wasn't myself, or Orochimaru, it would have been something else."

"God forbid you feel even a shred of human empathy for a miserable idiot like me!" She barked a laugh, turning away. "Just go. Go and I'll forget I even saw you. I'm sure the last thing you want is for the Leaf to ignore you, right? Now that you've succeeded in your goal."

"What the Leaf does or doesn't think of me, I don't care." He walked closer behind, until he could see the prickle of goosebumps on her legs. "My ultimate plan is to kill the snake. If they have any sense of self-preservation, they'll leave me be."

Sakura's entire body tensed in quiet surprise. He could almost hear her questions, even as she turned her head slightly in response. "Wh... what?"

"He's of no use to me anymore," he replied simply, voice flat. "Now that I've succeeded in killing Itachi, I have no need of his training or promises of leadership within Oto."

"Why..." she swallowed, turning even more so that they were eye-to-eye. "Why are you telling me this?"

"You assumed that I wanted Leaf's attention," he answered, gaze burning into hers as he stepped even closer. "You also assume that granting you closure is far beneath me. What's given you that idea?"

"Are you kidding?" She scoffed, gaze flickering between his eyes and lips and back. "You've always hated me. You always had some criticism of how I acted, how I trained, how I even held my weapon - and even on the night you left you had nothing to say except that I was annoying. How could I ever think otherwise?"

Sasuke let out a long, quiet sigh through his nose. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he leaned in - and ignored her tensing figure as he began to whisper.

"Ninja learn to read beneath the underneath, Sakura," he spoke, her name rolling off of his tongue in a pleasant way that he'd all but forgotten it could. "After all this time... you still don't..."

"Stop confusing me," she spat, raising a kunai knife to his neck. "What is it you're trying to say?"

"For as book-smart as you are, you are really naïve," he grumbled as he pulled back just enough to stare her in the face. "I didn't need to pull on pigtails to get my message across when we were genin."

She blinked, staring back at him, uncomprehending.

Shaking his head, he stepped away. He ignored the subtle, barely-there clenching in his heart as she visibly relaxed.

Turning, he said, "Tell that idiot that the next time we meet, I'm kicking his sorry ass back to your pathetic excuse of a village."

A shout raised itself in her throat, an indignant, angry thing - and then she stopped short, realizing what he'd just said.

Her lips curled into a wry smile, and she chuckled. "You two never stop, do you? Neither of you are killing each other on my watch. I'll see to it that I get to you first."

An almost invisible smirk surfaced on his hidden face, even as he teleported away in a puff of smoke.

[diavolosthots]

Hey dear! I hope that you have a good time! I want to make a request, but please delete it if you don't feel like doing it.

I saved that request in the notes and been waiting for you to open them 😊

For request

First fight with brother (any of your choice) and one of them (I mean MC or that brother) thinks that it's end of relationship (because never had anything serious), but they reconciled in the end. I want some heavy angst with happy ending. MC can be GN if that is OK.

If you don't mind you can do for Mammon, but feel free to choose another one if you don't feel like write for him. Or if that would be better to write as headcanons for all the brothers. That's up to you!

I haven't been doing requests for ages. Please don't hate me if there is something wrong! I've read the rules, and I hope I haven't missed anything.

Anyway, sorry for long ask. And thank you for your writings!

(I forgot to look if you did anything similar, and remembered it at the end of writing that ask. Sorry if you already did something like that!)

Hey babes ❤ I did end up doing HCs for all of them because I thought it would be cooler (or more like I know someone is gonna request separate fics for all of them if I dont and I'm saving myself that trouble lol) I still hope you like it ! ❤ also this got SUPER LONG so its under a cut

Warning: angst -> happy ending-ish

THE BROTHERS in a fight with MC and thinking that they’re over (yikes)

Lucifer:

Everyone always says Lucifer is quick to lose his cool but he’s honestly been nothing but patient with you. He may have hinted at several things he doesn’t condone and he definitely has that ‘look’, you know the disappointed dad look, but he has held back a lot so as to not ruin the beautiful relationship you have with him. Everyone snaps, though, and when he finally did, it was ugly. He did NOT call you names, but oh he didn’t. He went straight for your feelings and pointed out every mistake you ever made for as long as he’s known you. Ouch. In his defense, you weren’t nice either. The argument ended nasty and ‘I hate you’s!’ were definitely thrown around, but none of them were meant, right? Goodness, he doesn’t know. After you left, he threw himself on his bed, literally, and just stared at the ceiling. His anger slowly fled away and he began to feel… guilty. Not necessarily because of the argument itself, but because he delivered some low blows and he knows that. Are you over? Done with him? You haven’t texted or called or talked… you’ve been actively avoiding him and he doesn’t like that, but his pride is such an issue, goodness. He can’t straight up apologize, that dickhead, but he’s sending you flowers and standing in front of your door with a sad face that says it all. 

“Forgive me? I made reservations at your favorite’s? We can talk over a nice dinner?” 

Mammon:

Mammon is known to get mildly agitated over the silliest things, let’s be real. He’s also quick to revert to the “are you dumb?!” argument, which is never effective. But he loves you and he would do anything for you so even if you do do something that he deems ‘dumb’, he usually bites his tongue. Doesn’t mean that doesn’t get on his nerves, though, and he definitely has a short temper, although people tend to overlook that. You just managed to push his buttons today and he used the “are ya stupid?!” argument, to which you obviously defended yourself, and rightfully so. This ended in a massive screaming match and him saying “Then leave! Ain’t nobody keepin’ ya with me!” He regretted it the minute those words left his mouth and you could see his eyes grow wide in shock at his own words, but that didn’t mean you stayed. “MC!” he tried running after you immediately but you were faster and honestly, who can blame you? He fucked up, and he knows it, and he feels terrible about it. Honestly, he’s crying just at the mere thought of you taking his words seriously and he can’t… he can’t bear to lose you, you know? What’s he gonna do? You’re the light of his life, as pathetic as that may sound to some…. So he won’t let you run away. Homie will hunt you down and beg for forgiveness. 

“Please, MC! Forgive me! I’m dumb, not you!!! Don’t leave me…” Don’t leave him. He will continue crying. 

Leviathan:

His constant need to put himself down is frankly, quite annoying. To you anyway. But you put up with it and just reassure him that, at least to you, he’s the most amazing demon that ever existed. It’s just facts. But a person only has so much patience, right? You can’t always spend your days trying to lift him up when all he does is dig himself a bigger hole. Who has the emotional time for that? You sure don’t. “Oh my God, Levi! Shut up! I can’t take it anymore!” Followed by “See! You’re just like everyone else! Leaving me!” and then you slamming the door to his room shut. It’s frustrating and understandably so. It makes you feel awful that you can’t even make your own boyfriend feel good about himself and get at least a little bit of self confidence and it’s so, so, so very draining to have to constantly listen to that. At this point, it’s affecting your own mental health and you just… you just can’t…. But Levi can’t lose you because he knows you’re right. He has to work on himself if he wants to keep someone as amazing as you with him and that’s why he’s crawling back to you now. 

“Look I… I know you’re right… I’m sorry. I promise I’ll … I’ll try. For you.”

Satan:

For being the Avatar of Wrath, you always admired Satan for his ability to keep cool. He prefers the relaxed and easy going life much more than the type of life people expect him to live, and you respect that. That doesn’t mean his constant need to one up Lucifer, through whatever means necessary, didn’t bother the hell out of you, though. You tried talking to him about it once or twice in a calm manner, but you always got the same answer “Pfft.. it’s Lucifer. Who cares?” And it never sat right with you. Just today he decided to pull a prank on the eldest and you had enough, standing in front of Lucifer and letting the bucket of cursed green slime land on you instead, to everyone’s shock. “What are you doing?!” Now that you’re thoroughly green from head to toe, you were also beyond pissed. “What am I doing?! What are YOU doing?!” But Satan matched your anger tenfold, accusing you of favoring Lucifer over him and oh! “You probably got an affair with him, too!” Which was a stupid thing on his part, but it looked like it the way you defended him. Anger doesn’t even begin to describe the emotion you felt running through you and had it not been for Lucifer, you probably would’ve physically fought Satan for such a dumb accusation. Lucifer took you to get cleaned up and lifted the course, giving you your natural skin and hair color back within a few days and plenty of scrubbing, and Satan felt like shit. You’ve always been there for him and, rationally speaking, he didn’t have a reason to doubt your loyalty to him, but he just can’t help but feel insecure beside Lucifer…. He decides to come apologize anyway, a deep blush on his face and guilt in his eyes 

“I’m… sorry for accusing you. It wasn’t my right to speak out of anger and jealousy…” 

Asmodeus:

How can anyone fight with the Avatar of Lust? Seriously, the guy is super easy going and he loves pretty much everyone. Not as much as himself, but almost. You on the other hand… you didn’t. Well you didn’t NOT love him or yourself, but you were just… you. You didn’t spend 4+ hours in the bathroom trying to get ready when you knew you were only going to the kitchen down the stairs. Like?? Although you never brought it up to Asmodeus, he constantly bothered you about skincare and what foods to eat and what not to eat, etc… It’s quite annoying, honestly, and at some point you just gave him a passive aggressive “Okay, whatever. Can we move on now?” To which he didn’t take lightly. He was still nice and sweet, trying to convince you that at least one of these things will make your skin glow brighter than a unicorn’s ass but you just had enough. “Can you stop?! You’re indirectly saying I’m ugly without that shit ton of product in my face and a diet that would make me starve before it helped me! If you want a skinny VS angel that barely holds onto their skeleton, get one!” It was more hurt and frustration speaking than anything, but your outburst still shocked him and he was taken aback for a moment. And then you ignored him for a week straight and as someone who thrives off of attention, especially the kind he gets from you, he can’t handle that! So he showed up in your room in sweats and a tshirt and messy hair and no product on his skin. 

“You’re right… we’re all naturally beautiful…. Wow that… that really hurts to say MC but can you forgive me?” 

Beelzebub:

Oh the sweet, sweet angel. He’s far from innocent and you know that. We all know that. But for this story, I will give him the benefit of the doubt. His reliance on Belphegor is just really… annoying. Belphegor this, Belphegor that. “Belphie used to…” or “Belphie said….” or “one day when Belphie and I….” Like why does everything have to include his twin? It’s so annoying and so rude when your significant other is right here !!! and planning their own future with you, Beel, thanks. It makes you feel less than and like Belphegor will always come before you. It makes you feel like shit, quite frankly, and who is to blame you? “Hey MC did I tell you what Belphie---!” “No! Shut up! I don’t care! It’s always about Belphie! The day you come to me and don’t let that name drip from your tongue is the day Jesus comes back to save me and we both know that will be never! I’m tired of always being stuck with Belphegor! We are not equals!” Granted, you shouldn’t have yelled and Beel was more than confused at your outburst, but you wouldn’t talk to him anymore after that so he left you alone. He thought you may need an hour or two, maybe a day tops, but that day turned into a full week and he even lost his appetite just because he knows you’re angry with him. It’s been a week, does that mean you’re over? His heart aches just at the thought… 

“I’m sorry for bringing Belphie up… I don’t want you to feel less than, MC. You mean a lot to me and so does Belphie, but you’re not Belphie and I need to learn that…”

Belphegor:

Honestly it’s a miracle he hasn’t lost his temper at you yet. Well, he partially blames it on his own laziness because if being angry or getting upset didn’t take so much energy out of him, maybe he would’ve snapped by now lol, but he tries really hard not to because he thinks your relationship with him after everything is pretty good, considering yall kiss and snuggle and fuck on a regular basis. But anyway, that’s exactly the issue. Considering everything, you’re still holding *that* against him. It’s never direct either, which makes it worse. It’s always said in a joking manner and something like “haha look it’s just like that one time you killed me” or “Beel’s grabbing that ham like you grabbed my throat” or “I remember seeing jesus for a moment there” and it agitates him. It makes him so angry, and he finally snapped. “I know I fucked up MC! Stop holding it against me! What do you want? A medal of honor? A survivor's certificate? Maybe a pat on the back for developing some sort of Stockholm syndrome that made you come back to your abuser?!” And then he left. And you may have cried both from confusion and your own anger, he isn’t quite sure. It’s just so…. Aggravating. He can’t deal with it. He knows it was a mistake spurted by his own insecurities and survivor’s guilt which ultimately led to his hatred but please, stop holding it against him.. He can’t keep putting up with it from the person he’s grown to love. He’s the one ignoring you and he won’t budge either because he’s a stubborn ass, but maybe if you come up first… 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you… I’m just so tired for it being held against me… I love you, and you should know that, and I do feel guilty about what happened.” 

[imkylotrash]

Searching For Calm

Pairing: Sky x Stella. Sky x reader. 

Request: Maybe you could write a Sky one where reader is always there for him and he just sees Stella. So the reader (mind fairy) shuts herself out and it takes some time for him to notice. Anonymous

A/N Ignore the text on the gif. I couldn’t find one I liked for this fic. 

“Are we still on for tonight?” you ask knowing what’s coming but hoping you’re wrong. Sky doesn’t notice your face fall when he shakes his head.

“Sorry, I promised Stella she could come over. She had a rough day.” You want to scream at him that every day is hard for you. Every day you wake up and feel every emotion that runs through Alfea. Happy, sad, lonely, scared. Some days you can’t even figure out which feelings are your own. You want to confess how the only calm you ever feel is when you’re with Sky, but it doesn’t matter. He only has eyes for Stella. 

“Yeah, no problem. Talk tomorrow then?” He never has the chance to answer. Stella sits down on his lap stealing away the short time you and Sky had alone. You literally feel her dislike as she turns slightly your way. 

“Oh, I didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah. There’s a lot of things you didn’t notice,” you mumble hinting at the five empty chairs around the table but they’re already to consumed by each other to pay any more attention to you. 

“Bye, Sky.” There’s no reply, but you didn’t expect one. It’s been 2 months like this ever since Stella decided that Sky was good enough for her despite her dumping him over the summer to spend time with other boys. A fact they’ve both decided to ignore. You put on headphones hoping it might help you drown out everyone’s emotions. You know Farah told you to focus on shutting other people’s emotions out, to only feel them when you want to. But lately, you haven’t been able to focus and you have a suspicion it might be related to the way Sky’s been treating you. 

“They’re locking tongues again. It’s getting disgusting.” Riven appears next to you with a sour look on his face. The one person who just might hate the relationship more than you. 

“I know. He cancelled on me again.” 

“He’s treating you like trash.” You sense his anger more than you see it. You’ve been a trio since you were young and Stella has gone ahead and ruined that. She dislikes you and Riven and for some reason Sky always chooses her. You guess love really does blind people. 

“He treats you like trash too,” you counter not ready to face the truth yet. 

“Yeah, but most of the time I deserve it. You, however, doesn’t ever deserve it.” He’s radiating affection as he looks at you. He’s well aware of your crush on Sky and he’s made his feelings clear on more than several occasions that you deserve someone who actually cares. He’s like your big brother, always looking out for you. 

“I was thinking I might just take some time to myself. See if he misses me.” It’s a very cruel game that you’ll be playing with yourself because you know he won’t notice. Not as long as he’s dating Stella. Riven puts his arm around you as you walk down the hallway. 

“I think that’s the smartest thing you’ve said in months.” You nudge him lightly but regrettably have to agree with him. In the next couple of weeks, you stay away from Sky. And even though you already knew his reaction, it still feels like someone is pulling at your heartstrings when you see him being just fine. It’s like he doesn’t even realise that you’re not around. Riven tries his hardest to cheer you up, but now that you’re without any comfort from your powers, you feel the toll much more than before. You start sleeping in Riven’s bed whenever Sky stays over at Stella’s. There’s nothing more than friendly comfort in it. Slowly, Riven becomes your escape from everyone else and it feels so good. You know you shouldn’t depend on others to help you cope with your feelings but it’s all you can do right now. Tonight is one of those nights where Riven has the room to himself. Or at least that’s what he’s been told by Sky but for some reason he stumbles through the door in the middle of the night. 

“Y/N?” He sees you first. There’s no missing the feeling of betrayal going through him. You know exactly what he’s thinking. Riven? Really? It’s all over his face and you hate it. You hate that he gets to judge you when he hasn’t talked to you in weeks. 

“I thought you were going to be with Stella tonight?” Riven starts to stir next to you.

“We got into a fight. What are you doing here?” 

“I’m sleeping.” You know you should tell him that there’s nothing between you and Riven but there’s a small, petty part of you that really likes how he feels right now. 

“Yeah, but with Riven? Are you dating or something?” He’s trying to act unbothered but you’re both painfully aware of your ability to feel everything he feels. 

“That’s none of your business, man.” Cue Riven who’s ready to provoke Sky. He’s been upset with him for a while and with the way Sky is acting right now, Riven can’t help himself. This is going to end in a fight if you don’t get it under control. 

“I can’t sleep alone, okay? I haven’t been able to for a while. Riven calms me.” You thought you were defusing the situation but somehow your comment just makes everything much worse.  

“He calms you? So I’m not good enough anymore?” His voice almost breaks and in turn something breaks inside of you. He doesn’t get to be the one with the broken heart. He let you go and forgot you even existed. He spent the last four weeks in Stella-land and now that they’ve had a fight, suddenly you’re good enough. You’re about to tell him off but Riven beats you to it. 

“You haven’t been here! She’s been going through shit and you’ve been so caught up with yourself that you didn’t even notice that you guys haven’t talked for weeks. If anything you should be thankful, I’ve been here!” The situation is escalating much faster than you thought possible. They both radiate feelings overwhelming you. It’s difficult to keep track of which feelings belong to who. 

“He’s right, Sky. Ever since you and Stella got back together, all you’ve seen is her. You cancelled all of our plans and completely cut me out.” You want to cry or hit Sky right in the face and you’re not sure which feeling is your own right now. Instead of doing either of those you get up and run away from the situation entirely. They both call after you but you just need to find a quiet place away from people’s feelings. You run outside and down the field. There’s a tree at the very back that you’ve crawled up more times than you remember. It’s always been your safe spot whenever you needed to get away. You’re hoping that Sky doesn’t remember it and after an hour alone you start to feel safe. But then you feel it - or more precisely him. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s coming right at you.

“Y/N, I’m coming up.” You want to scream at him to go away but suddenly you’ve gone mute. 

“I’m so sorry. I’ve been a dick.” You don’t argue with that statement. He really has been a dick.

“Riven really set me straight after you left. And when he started pointing it out, I realised that I haven’t been myself. I’ve been distant and cold, I’ve taken you for granted,” he says and you feel his regret just as much as you see it on his face. 

“I never meant to do that. I got so caught up in Stella’s web and because of that I hurt the person who means the most to me.” 

“You took away my calm,” you mumble blinded by tears. It sounds so childish saying out loud but he was the one person who could make you feel normal. His energy cancelled out everyone else’s. You look over at him blinking several times before being able to focus on his face. 

“I’m really sorry.” He takes your hands in his and you let him. It’s that heart of yours that’s betraying you. It always beats a little faster when he looks at you. 

“I can’t do this again. I can’t keep losing you over and over again,” you admit dangerously close to just owning up to your feelings. How he takes your breath away just walking towards you, how he makes you smile even at your worst moments, how he makes your palms sweat whenever he’s near. You want to admit it all because you’re so tired of having to hide your own feelings when everyone else can have their feelings heard. 

“You won’t have to. I ended things with Stella before I came out here. When I saw you with Riven,” he pauses to take a deep breath, ”I felt my heart crack. I hated the idea of seeing you with anyone else.” You stop breathing. For once, you use your powers to reach out and feel his fully. You feel like screaming when you notice the very feeling you’ve been consumed by yourself. 

“Did you just-”

“No!” You say it too quickly. He knows what you did but he doesn’t seem to mind it. He smiles as he takes your hand. 

“I know this is really poor timing and I hate how much it took for me to realise that what I feel for you is way beyond how I should feel for a friend. But if there’s even a small part of you that cares for me like that, I’d really like a second chance.” You’re pretty sure you’re dreaming because there’s no way you went from being ignored by him to have him confess his feelings for you. It doesn’t change how fast your heart is beating in your chest or the blush creeping onto your cheeks. 

“You just got out of a relationship, Sky.” Even though your heart is all for jumping into his arms and riding off into the sunset, the logical part of your brain can’t help but recall how he was in a relationship up until an hour ago. 

“I’m too late, aren’t I?” 

“I really like you, but I also feel like I don’t know you anymore. I look at you and see the face of my best friend, but I also see a stranger.” You don’t know how to explain it properly but somehow Sky gets it. 

“How about we start out easy? Get to know each other again.” He cups your cheek as he looks into your eyes. He opens his mind to let you know that he truly means everything he’s said. You can feel his feelings yelling to be heard. 

“I’d like that.” 

[bukojuiice]

rose-colored boy

ೃ pairing: (eren jaeger x fem! reader)

ೃ  tags: college/modern au, fluff, humor, love at first sight cliché, mikasa is your cute little sister, armin, sasha, jean, and connie are your besties, and eren is a himbo who works hard and has terrible friends.

ೃ warnings: strong language and mild suggestive content

ೃ part 1/??? of my (eren x reader) college au!

ೃ word count: 3000 words

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist 

ೃ This is my very first snk x reader fic! so i hope you bear with some errors! qwq 

i’ve been following the anime ever since it was released in 2013, and this is the first time i’m  going to be writing for it.  this month’s manga chapter really took me out so why not channel my sadness thru writing an fluff! eren fic? 🤧 i hope you enjoy either way!

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!)

ೃ  in which (Y/N) (L/N), 20, still in school, and regretfully-unregretfully-her little girl scout sister's assistant, meets eren jaeger in an embarrassing too innocent door-to-door cookie sale whilst a humiliating party was going on.

cookies, suspicious maybe-maybe-not pot brownies, meddling little sisters and friends, “oh my god they were roommates” vine on replay 24/7, homework, tears, and fairy lights bring them together.

“I’m going to enter now.”

“Ahhh yes, please!”

“Shut up, please.” Eren muttered to himself as he tossed and turned around in his bed, but still couldn’t get to sleep. “When will they ever stop doing this?” Why did Eren’s next-door roommate and his girlfriend have to do this five times a day? They had a lot of stamina for 21-year-olds who didn’t have anything better to do.

Eren’s thoughts eventually brought him to his parents.

His parents- did they even exist?

For pretty much 14 years of Eren’s life, they had been out of town or out of the country. His older brother, Zeke, blonde, bespectacled, tall, and sometimes too far up his own ass older brother who Eren is able to confide in from time to time, recently got a girlfriend whom he’s hopelessly in love with (they’re even thinking about getting married which isn’t really a problem since the girl is genuinely nice to his older brother so Eren is good with her.), so… things in the family had been a bit rough and busy to say the least.

Communication with his parents wasn’t always the best.

Eren would study late at night back when he was seven, because no one bothered to help him with homework. Along with the fact that he wasn’t the brightest kid in class, and he knew that very well, but he had ambition and he was determined to make it big in the world. He focused more on sports, particularly Soccer in middle school and high school, and tried to balance that with his studies.  After being granted a Sports Scholarship from Shigashina University, Eren decided to rent and share a flat, living with his batchmates who he met at a mixer party (before Uni started as this whole meet and get to know each other kind of thing) and whom he was so quick to call his ‘friends’, just so that he could get out of the hellhole that was his own house.

But things turned out much worse than expected.

Eren thought that the ��College Life’ was to focus more on pursuing your future career and make a name for yourself but… it was the other way around.

He thought that after Freshmen year, everyone would take things seriously. Sure, have some drinks, get wasted after finals, or have house parties from time to time. But he was unfortunately, dragged into the wrong crowd. After attending around 5 parties in the first few months of being generalized as one of the infamous and pompous freshman archetypes present in every university, he called it a year and spent the rest of his nights doing homework, projects, playing video games, staying at the school soccer field until 10PM while his roommates were probably smoking crack and not caring about the number of units they needed to take for each of their goddamn subjects.

 He was ~living the life~ and now that he regrets most of the decisions he made in freshman year, the only option that he has left was to wait until his third year and move to a different apartment.  

 Now, here he was, Sophomore year, nearing the end of the semester, and very much eager to get the hell out of here and also study for his upcoming finals on Constitutional Law II, as his professor, Mr. Erwin Smith, was going to throw hands if one of his students score below average on the exam.

 “EREN MICK JAEGER! BROOOO!” Eren winces when he hears the shrieky and annoying voice of his flatmate Thomas Wagner, calling out to him. “Wanna go and party with us?” Eren smiles halfheartedly, shaking his head, “Ah, no thanks. I have a game tomorrow and finals coming up on Thursday.” Thomas smirked and wrapped his arm around Eren, “Oh fuck that, live the college life ya spoon.”

“No, really I have to study.”

Thomas frowned and groaned, “Oh god, you’re such a killjoy. Fine, if that’s what you want. Don’t blame us if we tell you to buy some beer down the block.”

Eren cracked an obviously fake laugh and pushed Thomas away from him, “You’re an ass. That only happened once and that was when we first met. Don’t you even dare try to ask me to buy you shit again.”

“Woah. Woah. Woaaaaaah. That was a joke Eren. Loosen up will you?” Thomas raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the brunette’s sudden aggressiveness. He hums Moves like Jaeger by Maroon 5 as a way to spite Eren whilst passing by him down the staircase.

The brunette shook his head, tying his hair into a bun carelessly and sprinting into his room without uttering another word.

Eren just wanted to study. He really did.

Instead, his roommates, all of them, mind you, were all partying in the lounge and the music was too loud and Eren was too annoyed.

They did manage to bring him out and make him stay in the kitchen where he mindlessly glared at anyone who came in. He sighed and tapped his pen restlessly amongst the insane amount of books on the table.

There was a knock.

His roommate, Floch, came in the kitchen with his girlfriend who Eren couldn’t even name with all the women he has brought into the apartment. She was hanging onto his arm and giggling. Floch’s eyes were red and his speech very slow and lazy. "Eren!" he said with a sly grin.

Eren raised an eyebrow, shooting him an irritated look. "What now Floch? Are you here to tell me to take a shot again?" The ginger-haired’s girlfriend giggled once again and kissed Floch’s cheek. Floch laughed and swatted her away, though he missed by a long shot. "Someone's at the door," a thumb pointing to the den. "wouldchumind ge'in it?" another giggle. The girl nodded sloshily. "Yesss! Erenieee get 'em door, please. Be a dearrrrr."

Eren frowned and stared at them menacingly, earning no reaction from the two as they were mad drunk. "You were just in the den," Floch’s eyes widened. "My lovey wovey-we was in the den?" His girlfriend’s mouth went into an O. "Di'nt notice tha'!"

Eren sighed and stood up. He miraculously got through the throng of bodies and to the front door. "Yes?" he called out exasperated, not knowing who was outside.

"Do you want cookies?"

Eren turned and looked to see a little raven-haired girl, a girl scout no less, a blonde-haired boy pulling on a trolley who looked significantly shorter than him, wearing rimmed glasses, and an overall appearance whom his “friends” would immediately label as a nerd they had to be a few feet away from if they saw him and lastly, a girl who looked very tired and very done with life.

Beautiful (h/c)-colored hair, her eyes looked like the starry night sky, twinkling as he catches her gaze and a smile that looked forced, but warm all the same.  

A girl who was just absolutely fucking gorgeous.

Eren was captivated. His heart was beating like crazy and he could feel his ears turn red. He would make a fool of himself if he looked red as a tomato right now.

"Um," The girl peeked inside and grimaced, squeezing the hand that was her little sister's shoulder and catching Eren’s gaze. "Mikasa, I don't think these kinds of guys would want cookies."

“Unless they're pot cookies,” Eren almost said. Mikasa pouted and widened her eyes at Eren.

The older girl crouched down and frantically covered her little sister’s eyes. "Nopenopenope, Mi, don't pull that on him."

"But (Y/N)!"

(Y/N).

Her name was (Y/N).

Eren smiled sincerely (for the first time today) and leaned back inside to the drawer by the door to grab the extra cash he and his roommates put there for emergency pizza and stuff. "You know what? You're absolutely brilliant at selling cookies. I'll take one."

Mikasa smiled back at him cheekily and tugged her older sister’s hand. "See, (Y/N)?! He wants some! Go get 'em!”

The raven-haired girl then turned to the blonde teen, practically jumping up and down. “Armin look! We sold another one!"

“We did!” The boy who was apparently named Armin, clapped his hands together, then gave the little girl a high five. “You’re a natural at this Mikasa!”

(Y/N) looked at Eren, then Mikasa, and sighed. She grabbed a bag from the trolley Armin was dragging around and pulled out a box of cookies. Eren grabbed them slowly from her, their hands almost touching as he gave (Y/N) a small smile. The (h/c) girl blushed lightly, though not visible enough for the brunette to notice.

"Hope to see you again!" Eren called out when the siblings said their thank you's and bid farewell.

And, this time, even for the slightest moment, Eren’s serotonin levels were going straight through the roof. His heart was still beating loudly, almost in sync with the trash music his roommates were blaring on the speakers. and for a moment, even just for a moment. 

He felt genuine happiness that he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

 The three of you continue to walk animatedly, now that the coast was clear and the guy from earlier wasn’t within earshot, your blonde friend just had to break the silence.

 Armin smiles, pushing his glasses up to the crook of his nose. “(Y/N), you did see how he looked at you right?” The blonde chuckles softly, catching his best friend off guard.

 You blinked. “Him?” You try to stop yourself from smiling, blushing profusely. “Geez Armin, I don’t even know his name yet.”

 “I’ll bet you 100 bucks that he goes to our Uni.”

 “Even if he does, it’s not like we’ll talk to him or anything. Judging from the place he lives in and the people he was hanging out with, we’re in two completely different worlds.” You shook your head in denial, holding Mikasa’s hand, your interlocked arms swinging playfully. Armin gives you a knowing look in response.

 Mikasa continued to wave back at the boy whom they had just sold cookies too. (Y/N) looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Wasn’t he nice (Y/N)?” Mikasa asks her older sister. (Y/N) returned her sister a small smile, “He was.”

 "I hope we see him again!"

"I'm sure we will."

 The day of Eren’s dreaded finals finally arrive.

He has prepared tirelessly for this. Hours upon hours of hard work. But, before he finally gets his well-deserved sleep, he has a few more hours to cram and absorb more knowledge for his exams.

So, what better way to do so than head straight to the library as soon as it opens at 6 AM?

This time, no one was going to bother him. No annoying roommates and no distractions.

Eren heads over to a table near the coffee and snack machines. He puts down his bag on a seat next to him, and begins to study once again. Looking through the course materials and the lessons that he still didn’t quite understand. Eren was so absorbed with studying and relying on his gut feeling that no other student in this university would think of going to the library at 6 AM on the day of finals… then he’s wrong. Very wrong. 

 “Sasha, should you even be eating mashed potato this early in the morning?” Armin asks the brunette worriedly, a huge tone of concern in his voice.

“Armin! Don’t chu worry! I ate heavy breakfast! Bacon, Eggs, and Toast! Did you not see me in the kitchen!?” She reassures her blonde friend, continuing to scoop up the mashed potato on a reusable cup.

“Liar.” Connie hissed, narrowing his eyes. “I was awake since 4 AM. Not once did I see you sneak into the kitchen until (Y/N) woke you up.”

“Atatata. Can we… stop with the negative vibes for a second?” Jean tries to become the mediator by holding his hands up against his two friends who were about to start an argument. “It’s finals week. We have to keep a clear mind, body and soul-“

“Jean, you know that’s BS.” You yawn widely, still practically half-asleep.

“Oh, come on! Can’t you just let me be positive just this once!? If we fail this exam I’m going to blame you!“

The five of you continue to talk mindlessly on the way to the library. Connie pushes the glass door open, very much excited to have this huge library all to yourselves.

Until…

There was someone already there.

Your eyes immediately come into contact with Eren’s. His radiant jade eyes staring into yours, mouth practically agape, his hands holding on to wooden chopsticks as the hot air of instant ramen breezes through his face.

“Oh?” Connie blinks. “Guess we aren’t the first ones here then.” He whistles.

“(Y/N)!” Armin nudges you in the arm in an attempt to tease you. “Guess your wish came true huh? We did see him again! By himself too!”

“W-what am I supposed to do exactly?” You turn to Armin, speaking in a hushed whisper.  

“Say thank you to him! Offer him to go on a boba date or something!”

“You got the Sasha seal of approval (Y/N)! He’s hot!” Sasha motions you a thumbs up and you can’t help but feel yourself already wanting to die of embarrassment.

The four of them slightly push you towards his table. With your friends cornering you like this, there was no way of escaping this.

All you had to do was talk to him and properly thank him for buying cookies from your little sister.

That was it.

No need for any extra ad-libs or poor and bad attempts of flirtation.

Just thank him (Y/N).

You can do this.

You breathe a hefty sigh then approach his table with confidence. The brunette continues to look up at you whilst turning the page of his reviewer that he wasn’t even looking at.

“Hi again! I just wanted to thank you properly for helping my sister and I, out the other day. Mikasa really appreciated the gesture you did for her, and she couldn’t stop talking about you to our parents since we saw you. You see, none of the other girl scouts want to be paired up with my sister because they think she’s an emotionless and monotonous freak. They’re really mean to her but she really wants to continue being a girl scout so my friend and I accompany her whenever she has to sell cookies!”

“It’s N-no problem!” Eren quickly replies, running a hand through his hair. “Why would they say such horrible things to your sister like that? Judging from the way she acted in front of me, she was quite the opposite. In a positive way of course! Those kids are just assholes who are intimidated because another girl their age is seemingly better than them.”

You giggle in response. “Thank you. I’ll tell Mikasa that you said that!” 

There was short silence for a few seconds until you realized that you forgot to say something. 

“Ah! I’m (Y/N) (L/N) by the way!”

“Eren.” He smiles, reaching his hand out to you for you to shake. You grip his strong and calloused hand firmly, and Eren could feel his ears turning red again while you were about to blush as red as a tomato.

You hear your friends snickering in the background and you took this as a sign to go back to your table. “I guess, I’ll see you around campus?” You ask, tilting your head. For, you actually really wanted to see him again after this.

“Yea! I’ll be seeing you!” He grins widely, watching you leave where he was seated. His smile then envelops into a frown as soon as you went away then he goes back to studying.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” Connie whispers loudly, calling you over by waving his hand. Why was this dunce being so painfully obvious? “Ask him if he’s looking for an apartment or if he wants to live with us!”

“Already!?” You ask in disbelief, a bit shocked by what Connie had just said. He scoots to the left, as you take a seat between him and Sasha. “Guys, you’ve known him for like… 3 minutes. Only Armin and I actually interacted with him before this.”

“He has to pass the vibe check first.” Jean shrugs, sipping on an iced expresso. “But, yeah, he does seem alright from a few feet away.”

“Come on (Y/N)! Ask him!” Sasha nods approvingly. “It’s weird that he’s studying alone like this while we’re in another table trying to remain unaware that he looks lonely as hell.”

“UMmMM… maybe he wants to study alone because that’s the only way he can focus? That’s a thing that normal people do, Sasha.” You remark sarcastically, trying to think up of more reasons to not approach him again.

Armin clears his throat, “Look, (Y/N), it won’t hurt to try right? Besides, don’t you feel a tiny bit sorry for him? He does seem lonely and you do have a crush on him so… more ways to interact with him right?”

Your shoulders slump and you breathe a defeated sigh. “Okay okay fine.” You make your way to Eren’s table again but before you do, you turn to your friends. “By the way, I don’t really have a crush on him just yet. I just find him cute okay?”

“Yeah yeah.” They say in unison as you continue to walk back to the brunette’s table.

“Hi again Eren!” You wave and try your best not to fumble or look painfully obvious that you were infatuated by him. He looks up and you try your best not to smile like a weirdo.

“Hm?” He hums.

“Would you like to come over to our table and study with us?”

To be continued.

[pandaluc]

Throughout the pain, I will stay

Pairing: Tohma x g!n reader

Genre: Hurt, Fluff, Modern Au

Warnings: Slight mentions of abuse and bullying, not proof-read

You asked the universe to grant you the chance to become friends with Tohma, and so the universe did. But world surely is so cruel. You stayed only to be replaced by someone new. Oh how you wish for him to come back in your life.. You had fallen deep in love with him.. Perhaps, the universe will once again hear your cries and wishes?

You and Tohma have been friends for a total of 4 years now. It all started back in High School, where the both of you got paired for this one science subject. You were so happy back then because Tohma had always caught your eye. He seemed kind, gentle, charming and intelligent. It was a struggle, however, to talk to him first since you don't think that you have a place in his life. But alas, the universe had heard your prayers and manifestations. The universe granted you what you've always wanted, a guy friend that you could always rely on.

But now, as you think back to those moments, you somewhat get a feeling of regret. You are indeed happy with Tohma, you really were. You found him as one of the best men one could ever meet in this world. But you can't stop yourself from asking where you have went wrong. Were you that awkward around him? Or were you too annoying for his kind? You can't help but think. Was it wrong to spend so much time with him? Or perhaps, was it wrong that you had befriended him in the first place?

Because now, you seem hopeless. All of those years seemed to be replaced by a person Tohma just met last year. Normally, it does not hurt you to see Tohma with somebody else. Especially if they are one of the reasons you are able to see Tohma's cheeky smiles. But you had fallen for him. You grew feelings towards him ever since the both of you reached college. You know very well that you are nobody but a friend of Tohma. And you also know that as long as Tohma is happy, you are happy.

But you didn't expect to hurt this much. The moments where you saw Tohma holding somebody's hand. The moment you saw Tohma pecking somebody's lips. The moment you heard Tohma's declaration of love towards somebody else. That is when you realize that maybe you are more selfish than you thought. For all you could think of is you. That you want to be that somebody. That you want Tohma for yourself, and only for you. But what could you do? It's been three months since Tohma last said a word to you. It's been five months since Tohma actually had a conversation with you. You had lost him. You took him for granted, thinking the he will stay forever by your side. You forgot that everytime you had thought of a plan to confess to him, time was ticking very fast. You were late. You were now replaced.

And now, all you could do is sit on your bed. Hugging a pillow you wish is Tohma as you bawl your eyes out. You did know that Tohma was special to you. But only when he had left you realized that he was more than special. His importance in your life was indescribable. You continue to wait for a call or a text, just hoping that Tohma would at least drop a "hi" or ask how you are doing. The universe had acknowledged your wishes again, though you wish that it won't turn bad this time. A notification popped up on your phone as you were eating. It was a single "hey there" from Tohma. You don't know whether you should answer or not. You don't know if you will feel joyous or hurt. Will he finally realize that you exist? Or will he just ask you for advices for the person he loves which is not you. Nevertheless, you texted back a "hiii" not caring anymore if you are desperate or blindly in love. Whatever happened next was something...interesting. His partner broke up with him since last month, a reason why he needed some time alone. There was a spark of joy in you, how weird. There was also a part of you that felt bad for what he had went through. But was it that bad compared to what you had been going through? Either way, he said he wanted to meet up with you and finally talk to someone about his problems to get things off his chest. You felt nice. The fact that he had thought to talk to you first about this aside from anyone else was enough to make your heart flutter. At this point, any attention from him is something you'll greatly appreciate.

After minutes of driving, you finally arrive to the destination where the both of you will meet. "Archons..." you breathe out. You see Tohma for afar, sitting on a bench waiting for you. All you could think of is how beautiful he looks like. But you snap back to reality and told yourself that you must not let your guard down. He could hurt you anytime, after all. And even if you hated how much power he had over your emotions, you somewhat love the fact that you will do anything and everything for him.

You then walked up to him. There it is. The smile he had always been giving to his ex-partner. The voice you've been wanting to hear for these past months. The eyes you've always wished that would look at you again. You admit that there was a glimpse of pain in his features, but you're just happy that you had finally saw him. The both of you had a conversation, a long one. To your surprise, he did realize the loss of your presence in his life. He also realized how stupid he was to just suddenly leave you because his ex-partner told him so. He apologized, with tears on his face, thinking that he was such a jerk. The more you heard his story, the more you realized how his ex-partner was quite abusive and manipulative. How you wish to prevent all of these from happening. The bruises in Tohma's arms, the redness of his eyes all from crying... if only you could go back in time, you know you would.

You then decided that Tohma won't be able to recover from such traumatic experience alone. You decided to help him, the same way he helped you back in high school when you were getting bullied. The both of you agreed that he could stay in your house. You took good care of him. Slowly, but surely, you make effort see it all again. His smile that is purely out of joy. His eyes that are genuinely filled with shimmer. All of these...leading you to where you are now.

A ring on your right hand. You wait outside the big doors, nervous yet excited. How time flies by~ It all felt like yesterday when Tohma confessed his love for you. When he hugged you oh so tightly yet gently the moment you told him you love him back. When you and him had your first kiss as a couple. When he went down on one knee, proposing to you as he speaks of his love with tears on his face. And now, just a few minutes more, you will be married with your one and only.

Just this morning, Tohma told you... "Thank you because you stayed.". In which later, in front of many people, you will site loudly your promise you had been keeping for these past years... "Throughout the pain, I will stay."

Author's Notes

Nobody had posted a Tohma x Reader for quite a while (well, at least when I was writing this) so I did this.. It's my first time writing these type of things so I hope it wasn't too bad or too ooc. Also, what do you exactly call these type of writings? Headcanons? Imagines? Fics? Drabbles..what are drabbles anyways?? Either way, if there is anything I could do to improve, please say so! Thank you so much for reading and have a good day/evening <3

[previousloversandmuses]

Slow Burn - Prologue

Part I | masterlist

A/N: This is a “must read” precursor to the whole series. Please read it to know what the origin story is. 

Pairing: Y/N x Obi Wan Kenobi

Words: 2048

Warnings: None. Brief mentions of violence. Low self esteem.

I am always one to experience emotions at a heightened frequency. Dangerous for a Jedi in training I know, but the council never took it as a sign of caution, just a minor set back. Happiness is bright, and beaming, even painful. My cheeks hurt for days after, smile lines sculpting my skin too early in life. Anger is powerful, my skin becoming vicious, and hot. Ripping through me like a silver bullet, and tearing my already unrelenting gut apart. I am loud, I am violent, and most of all, passionate. I would later become grateful of this curse, turning it into a blessing. Sadness is so deep. Tears crash like an ocean, and my heart would ache in my chest. The physical symptoms of my despair become overwhelming, and make me sick.

A fresh eighteen myself, my graduation is only a year or so away. Compared to other padawans, ones that don’t deal with the same struggles as myself, have already been graced with knighthood. They make their masters proud, and have already completed more missions at sixteen than I think I ever will in my entire career. 

I had the choice to become independent, to take my morals by the throat, and shove them deep down inside me, never to be seen again- but it really just isn’t that easy. See, I’m taking this time for meditation, or even a “behavioral therapy” of sorts. I have meetings with other council members, more powerful, and more prominent than my own master, who is often off tending to matters elsewhere. A mighty general he is, but they see me as someone who would cause more of a distraction, so I stay here at the temple left to my own devices. Sometimes I think it may be because I’m a woman, and other times I just take a good look in the mirror and recall the outburst that has stained my face only minutes before. 

Today was like any other; wake up, meditate, exercise, study, combat training, study, try and find time to eat something, and study. I walked down the main hallway with Master Yoda. He spoke to me about how he once struggled with his emotions as well, but with enough meditation, learned how to keep them at bay. Looking down at him and his vacant expression, I was surprised he had ever even felt an emotion a day in his life. That was until seconds later…

Stopping in my tracks, my hand flew over my heart. I recalled feeling out of breath, like my heart had physically stopped beating in my chest, or at least was trying to catch up with the rest of my body. I was shaky, yet somehow managed to take a knee. Something was off, that feeling in my chest grew and grew until I was faced with the blackest black I had ever felt. The darkest emotion to ever run through my body, as cold as ice, and heart stopping. It was deep, I felt it within the darkest abyss in my soul. It wrapped around my insides and nestled itself a home deep within the most shielded corners of my subconscious. That’s when Master Yoda felt it too. His hand flying over his heart, and steadying himself on my own shoulder. His face morphed into a snarl, gasping at the sudden pain that now infected his unwavering calm aura. 

...

After a painstakingly slow recovery, I sat on the edge of my bed. My quarters were neat and tidy. My bed, usually made up in the morning, because I have always been one for a routine. My walls weren’t bare, in fact they were almost completely covered in photographs I have taken from my travels as a Padawan. I'd go to the library, and butcher borrowed books, clipping photos of different words, and alien fauna. But today, those bright colors capable of producing fantasies for hours and hours, seemed black and white. 

I had been staring at the floor for sometime, desperate in trying to heal the ache in my chest. It felt as if I had a cold, like the burn after a deep cough. I felt so tight, so tense, an actual living embodiment of rigor mortis. Yet, at the same time, I hardly felt all there. It was as if my existence was floating all around me, and my shell was sitting vacant on an uncomfortable mattress. The knock on my door was enough for me to engulf myself again. 

“Y/N, are you decent?” The voice asks. 

“Yes,” I reply, rolling my shoulders back. 

“The council has requested an audience. Please report downstairs within the next few minutes.”

I nod my head, as if whoever was behind the door could see me. 

“An audience,”  I think. “Let’s add another year to that training plan, shall we?”

...

Walking downstairs to the council room, I can’t help but feel that all eyes are on me. They cut through me like a hot knife, slicing me thin. I feel so vulnerable. Like everyone around me can feel what I feel, and if I’m being honest, they probably do. A good Jedi who is in tune with the force, and especially in tune with others, can sense an intense emotion from a mile away. I’m sure at this moment I pretty much equate to an open book. No reason to try and hide it, force knows I struggle with concealing even an inkling of agitation. 

Seeing the council room in sight, I take a deep breath. This is it. I’m done for. This reaction was way too over the top. I’ve scared people, I’ve scared Master Yoda. Might as well just turn in my saber now and call it a day.

I walk into the door. Only a few masters sit scattered around. Master Yoda of course perched dead center, Master Windu waiting patiently to his right. But my master was nowhere in sight. You’d think if they were going to terminate me, that maybe my own mentor would be among them? Shaking his head, sending me glares that one could only compare to fucking daggers. He was tough on me for sure, maybe he was too ashamed of what I’d done to even bear to see me in this moment. 

“Coming here so quickly you did,” Starts Master Yoda. “Grateful we all are.”

I smile and bow my head. 

“Y/N,” Master Windu starts. “We’re here to discuss the events that happened earlier.” 

Oh god here it comes. This is it. I’m totally done for. I can’t even keep myself calm now. My face, getting hotter and more red by the second, is going to be the biggest tell. At least let me go out with some dignity. 

“Your reaction, what you felt at least, was not just brought on out of the blue. Master Yoda had the same experience, as did all of us on the council, and most Jedi and padawans in the temple.”

“I don’t understand.” I say. 

“At around 1 Coruscant time, an enemy bomb was detonated on Nal Hutta.”

Then it hit me. My heart sinking, I began to shake my head. 

“Unfortunately, Unit 505, and Master Cato were all killed on impact.”

My ears ring. Slowly, I move over to a chair, bracing myself. 

“That’s,” I start, trying to find the words to say. “He would’ve felt it, all of them would, I don’t understand.”

“We have a feeling it was planted by a Sith. That’s the only way it would’ve clouded any judgement.”

I slump into it, my vision going black, my head spinning. 

Master Cato has been with me since I was a very little girl. Although rough, tough, and brutally honest, he has done nothing but be a father to me time and time again. Everything I do is a reflection of him. He had been so busy at war, fighting day in and day out, I caught myself missing the commands, and demands I once so passionately despised. I took our whole relationship for granted, and now, is this the price I have to pay? The last time we spoke he told me how disappointed he was in my outburst in my Alien Fauna lab. I was being stubborn, I was bratty, and rolled my eyes. We had argued that entire call. He didn’t even attempt to say goodbye. Now, for an eternity, I will have to face the catastrophic guilt of my actions. Live with the fact that I never, ever told him how much I appreciated him. And even, how much I loved him so. The closest thing to family in my life, gone, in the snap of a finger. 

Both Master Yoda and Master Windu continued to talk but it all felt like empty words. I couldn’t hear them anyway. 

“Although this situation isn't ideal, we and the rest of the council applaud you for being able to feel something most of us haven’t been able to experience yet.” Claimed Master Windu.

I don’t listen. I stand up again. 

“What am I going to do? I don’t feel comfortable with being knighted yet. I had- we were working on so many things I-,” I stumbled on my words. 

“You’ll get placed with a new master.”

“There are no new masters. And even if I had been trained a certain way, I don’t know how to learn otherwise.” 

There is silence. 

“The force works in mysterious ways. Meant to happen, I feel.” 

I scoff. “Meant to happen,” what an evil thing to say.

I begin to walk off, stopping of course, only to get in the last word. 

“Not only have you told me that my master has been killed, but you lack any empathy. There is no emotion in your eyes. Nothing.”

“We mourn your master y/n, just as much as you do. You know what we stand for. You know our view on attachments.”

“He's like-,” I choke. “He was like my father.”

I can’t even begin to explain the pain I feel. Disgust in myself, I should’ve been better. I could’ve been better. The last few years of our relationship I’ve just been behaving poorly and rebelling, and then getting angry at him when he made me face the consequences. Like I wasn’t aware of the job I was made to do. I should’ve been nicer, I could’ve been nicer. It’s all going in a circle, all the things I should’ve done just morphed into things I couldn’t do. Maybe I was too emotional. Maybe my tears that fell leading up to this moment was all part of the plan, the final kicker to show that I wasn’t apathetic enough for this job. My empathy, my burning passion will always be my biggest flaw. This hole that gapes inside of me will never be filled, and now it grows bigger. It’s like a disease. Am I enough? Will I ever be enough?

“Put you with Master Kenobi, we will.” States Master Yoda. 

Master Windu is quick in turning his head. He glares at him. 

“Master Yoda, General Kenobi has just finished his training with Anakin. It is far too early to give him a new Padawan, if at all.”

Yoda nods, almost giggling. 

“Yet so freshly knighted, a Padawan Anakin already has. Obi Wan will have no problem with taking on a student. Graduates soon, she will.”

“But General Kenobi and I have two completely different methods of combat, let alone ideals.” I scoff. 

“All Jedi have the same ideals.” Adds Windu. 

“He is a Jedi guardian, I am a Jedi sentinel-“

“Train with General Kenobi you will. Not long ago he also lost his master too soon.”

Master Yoda nods to me. He stands up and walks over to the large windows behind him. Looking out over Coruscant, he takes a deep sigh of relief. 

“Master Windu,” says Yoda. “Get in contact with the 212th battalion.” 

I watch on as my fate now rests in a stranger's hands.

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 9

You Love Him

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: bucky is consolingly, y/n feels shit

Warnings: implied NON CON, smut (the whole chapter is basically smut, you’re welcome), feelings and shit, blood, death of unnamed character, swearing

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

I flinched as the blood sprayed, splattering across my face sickeningly as the dagger plunged into his neck. The body fell limp, collapsing to the floor with a hollow thud, a sound that barred me from ever going to heaven.

Of course, I wasn't the one who was holding the knife. In fact, the whole scene could be seen as rather comical if a man hadn't lost his life. The melodic tune I'd hummed as he'd lifted the knife to his own neck, the fear in his features as the jagged point pressed to his skin. But it was the sight of the life leaving his eyes, the splattered blood that made the whole thing so...sinister.

I stopped humming the little tune, checking over my make-shift scene before swiftly exiting the building through a back window - making sure not to remove my gloves until I reached my bike.

That was the true beauty of my power, or at least in HYDRA's eyes it was. The fact that I could simply stand by, and make my victims - their victims - do all the dirty work for me, and when all is said and done to everyone around them it looks like they'd killed themselves.

Id made the man scrawl a quick little note first, as to try and convince his family and friends it was a suicide and someone didn't hold him at gun point or something.

I can't live like this anymore

That's all the note said. Not too short, but also not so long it instantly because unconvincing and obviously forced. I mean let's be honest, if you were to off yourself would you really drag it out or would you be so desperate to go already that you'd find the quickest way out? I know what I'd do. It's not like I'd thought about it since joining HYDRA...but let's just say the thought hasn't entirely avoided me.

...

It was almost like my ritual, every time someone died at my hands. I would arrive back at the compound - where two guards would search me (arguably much too thoroughly to the point that every time it happened I seemed to feel nauseous after) and I'd be sent straight off the the shower room.

From there, I'd let the cold water wash over me, usually spiking my skin into goose bumps before my eyes would become shellacked with tears and my mind would start to numb. That's when I'd slowly sink to the floor, head held in my hands as sobs wracked my frame.

If we're still being honest, I never actually new how long this lasted. It could be minutes, that only seemed to stretch for hours, or it could in truth be hours that were just as long as they felt.

There is one thing I know, though. It's always the soldier who brings me out of it. The warm touch of his flesh hand against my shoulder, the shivering cold brush of his metal one before he's pulling me to my feet and engulfing me in his beefy, yet welcoming, arms. Again, I have no idea how long this lasts, but I sure hope it lasts for hours.

When he'd pull away, my eyes would remain glued to his plump lips, my tongue trailing along my own as my eyes would burn with a hunger. If I'd looked up into his eyes too, I'd find a similar hunger blazing there.

He initiated the kiss, as he always did, lips desperate and hard against mine, almost bruising as his teeth nipped at my bottom lip to beg for entrance. And I always grants it to him, moaning at the feeling of his tongue curling over mine, his hands tangling in my hair, roaming my body, playing me like an instrument he'd been practicing for years.

The soldier pushed me against the wall, lips sucking and kissing along my neck - sure to leave a mark but neither of us cared. In fact, I'm sure he rather liked it, having me marked as his.

I let out a long moan as his fingers - the metal ones - found their way to my core, tracing over my slit and up to my clit to collect some of the wetness there before they were plunging into my heat.

"Fuck! Soldier!" I cried, heat thrown back against the old tiled wall as he worked his fingers at a punishing pace inside me, working me open so I could take him. He was curling his fingers just right, hitting that one spot inside of me that sent shivers down my spine and made white spots form over my vision when I came apart. The soldier smirked at me, detaching his lips from my neck and bringing his digits to his lips before sucking my juices off them right in front of me.

The sight was sinful, really, and all I could do was keep myself standing as my legs shook with arousal and the remnants of my previous orgasm.

"Delicious." Was all he said, before the soldier's lips were back on mine is a bruising kiss and him large hands were cupping my ass and pulling my legs up around his waist. I moaned against his mouth, tasting myself as his tongue swept its way into my own mouth before stroking over my tongue. There would surely be bruises decorating me whole body when this was done - not an unusual occurrence - from how hard the soldier was gripping me, but the pain only amounted to the pleasurable sparks setting my body alight at that very moment.

I reached down blindly, not wanting to break the searing kiss as I felt around for his aching cock. Of course, it wasn't very hard to find, and once I felt it I took ahold of it with a hand wrapped delicately around him. I pumped the soldier's length a few times, a long, low groan slipping into our kiss as I lined him up with my entrance. My head was once again thrown back when his tip nudged my clit, sending my eyes rolling back in my skull and forcing a scream from me when he plunged in in one thrust.

"S'tight." He grunted against my neck, pulling his hips back slowly before snapping them forwards with enough force to make me thick there could be cracks in the stone wall behind us. It was torturous, his pace, so slow yet so hard I felt as if the air was being punched from my lungs with every thrust.

"F-faster." I moaned, hands holding onto his muscly shoulders for dear life as he begun to fail into me. My cunt was stretched to its limit around the soldier's girth, yet the sinful burn just felt like more pleasure as the pace of his thrusts distracted me. My eyes were constantly rolled back into my skull, legs jelly around his waist and if it weren't for his hands holding me up my my ass I would be sprawled on the floor in that moment.

My brain turned to mush, and I could even remember my own name, let alone enough words to tell the soldier how good he was making me feel. So instead I opted for a long, drawn-out moan as his tip kissed my cervix with ever pump inside of me. The soldier looked down to see where our bodies were connected, his eyes glittering with lust at the slight of my wetness dripping from his cock and liger coating both our thighs and most probably the floor in my slick. What made him smirk even wider, though, was the bulge in my stomach every time he thrusted, his cock so deep in my you could see it.

The soldier pressed down on that point, a new wave of arousal flooding through me at the thought of taking something so big.

I could feel myself clenching down on him like a vice, my second realise so close I could almost feel it. From the way his hips faltered and his thrusts stuttered to the guttural, wanton string of moans that escaped his lips like a symphony, I could sense he was close too. I reached down, rubbing furious circles over my swollen clit, trying to push myself over the edge at the same time as the soldier.

I don't know who's orgasm triggered whose, but from the way they ripped through us, it was apparent that one caused the other.

...

I sat mindlessly in my cell, the only thing I was able to do was stare back into the blue eyes already trained on my own body. I didn't want to admit it. I couldn't admit it.

I shook my head, trying to shake the thoughts creeping through my mind, clawing at me and begging me to accept them. But the idea made me feel slightly sick, I think. Well, it could be more that it should make me feel sick, but try as I might, it wouldn't.

I couldn't stop that little voice, the one literally screaming the words at me every time my eyes slid over him, every time the soldier was in my sight: you love him.

[qitwrites]

⬅ Previous || 19 || Next ➡

It isn’t unusual to see Uraraka in the gym. It isn’t unusual at all to see her going at it against a punching bag, striking it with ferocious jabs and strong kicks, well-paced and well-timed.  It isn’t unusual in the least to see her wearing sweatpants and a sports bra, hair pulled out of her face as she sweats it out alongside her classmates.

It is unusual to see her face scrunched up like she’s on the verge of tears though. It makes something in Midoriya’s gut clench unpleasantly.

‘Hi,’ Midoriya says, wiping away the sweat on his neck with the bottom of his tee shirt. Uraraka simply nods, but her eyes don’t leave the bag. She does a one-two combo move, the bag making a satisfying thump with every hit.

‘Are you ok?’ he ventures, crossing his hands over his chest. He keeps his eyes trained on her face, and his gut twists when he sees unshed tears brimming in her big, round eyes. Uraraka wipes at her face with the inside of her elbow before she goes back to the bag.

‘I’m fine,’ she bites out between clenched teeth, and Midoriya knows she’s not okay. He decides not to push it too much though, instead moving to stand behind the bag and hold it steady for her as she pummels it. He can feel the force of her punches through the material, and her face continues to twist and contort till there are tears running down her face.

‘Uraraka,’ Midoriya finally murmurs, voice low, ‘are you hurt?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You’re crying, you’re not fine-‘

‘I said I’m fine! Leave me alone Deku, just- I’m fine.’

The last time Midoriya had a gut feeling like this, he’d left Iida alone after his brother got hurt and nearly lost him. The last time he’d let his guard down, Bakugou had been kidnapped from right under their noses. And the last time he hadn’t fought to understand, he hadn’t persisted in his efforts, he’d let go of Eri and allowed her to be in harm’s way, an act he would never, ever forgive himself for. So now, Midoriya has a bit of an issue letting go.

‘We don’t have to talk about it right now,’ Midoriya grunts as Uraraka kicks the bag hard enough to jostle him. ‘But you have to talk to someone. Please don’t bottle it in, you know it’ll only get worse.’

Uraraka stops punching then, chest heaving as her eyes find Midoriya’s, and they’re filled with a plethora of emotions- pain, anger, embarrassment, rage, and so much sadness. They look defeated.

‘I am fine!’ Uraraka growls, thumping both hands against the bag. ‘I am fine because I have no choice but to be fine! Because the moment I stop being fine, I will lose. So, all I can do is punch a bag, shed a tear or two in private, and move on with my life because this is a battle I cant lose.’

‘You don’t have to fight anything alone Uraraka, you have all of us.’ Midoriya gestures at the gym, littered with some of their classmates. It’s not packed to capacity, but there are people around, their good friends.

‘I do have to fight this alone though. And I certainly can’t fight this with you.’

‘I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Please talk to me Uraraka, tell me more.’

‘There’s no point Deku. It won’t change a damn thing.’

‘But I want to understand anyway! Just humor me.’

Uraraka barks out a laugh before staggering away from the bag, her body angled towards Midoriya.

‘Fine, you wanna know so bad? Ok, let’s talk.’

She starts unwrapping her left hand. ‘Did you know that for every article or piece of news that goes up about my heroic deeds or my fighting, there are 8 others that talk about my measurements, which colors suit my skin tone, why I am in desperate need of losing weight, or something along those lines?’

Her right hand continues to methodically unwrap the tape with trembling fingers. ‘Every news channel I go to, no matter where, I have to read about how a female heroes’ love handles were showing while she was taking down a villain. Or how someone’s hair wasn’t perfect while they put their life on the line to do their job. And do it damn well.’

She finally finishes unwrapping one hand. ‘And did you know, that for every article written about your heroics, or Bakugou’s, or Iida’s, of which there are so many more than our female classmates’ by the way, there’s maybe 3 articles about things that don’t concern heroics? And they’re always respectful, not too invasive, somewhat curious.’

Uraraka moves to unwrap her other hand, but her fingers are shaking so bad, she can’t even find the end. Midoriya finally stumbles forward and pulls her right hand into his own, unwrapping it gently. He gives it a firm squeeze, urging her to go on.

‘I know the advice- stop listening to the tabloids, let it roll off your back, it’s not important, it’s not relevant. And I get that Midoriya, I do. I will continue to do my job. I will continue working towards being a hero. I will always do my best to save lives and defeat villains and keep everyone safe. I will.’

Her voice cracks, ‘But I also get tired, you know? I get tired of seeing people talk about me like I’m not even a person. I am so tired of seeing the female heroes objectified all the time. For them to be glorified for their looks alone and not their skills. We’re saving lives too, we’re not here to look pretty. We’re here to kick ass.’

Midoriya finishes unwrapping her hand but doesn’t let go, holding it lightly between his own. Uraraka stares at their hands and continues, ‘I want to be taken seriously. I work just as hard as you guys, and I want to be awarded that same respect but I’m not. And I don’t get to say Hey I’m tired today, if someone is disrespectful or puts me down because I’m a female hero I’ll let it slide because every time I do that, we take 3 steps back. I have to fight this fight all day, every day.’

Uraraka pulls her hand away and sinks down, resting her head on her bent knees. She slowly turns to look to the side, and she has a faraway look in her eyes.

‘I have been stared at since I was maybe 10 years old. And it’s not just me, it’s all girls. All women. We’re just stared at. Doesn’t matter what we wear, what we’re doing, where we’re going. I’m stared at. I could be in uniform, could be dressed to go to the mall or enjoy a day at the beach- I will be stared at. People, and men especially, look at me like I’m a piece of meat. I can feel it on the back of my neck, and yes, I can protect myself, but that fact that I even need to, why is that ok?’

Uraraka finally pauses, inhales deeply and a few more tears slip out.

‘I am tired, Deku. I am so tired. And I will continue to fight this battle, I will continue to stand up for Momo and Tsuyu and Mina and Hagakure and Jirou. For all the female heroes. For all women, everywhere. But I am tired of having to fight that battle in the first place. I’m just a little tired today. That’s all.’

Uraraka exhales deeply, and her entire body deflates. ‘I want to be able to walk out on the streets without my guard up because I’m a woman. I want to walk around wearing what I want and not have to worry about catcalls and judgement. I want to exist without the need to be perfect because when I’m not, it feels like I’m letting so many people down. I just want the freedom to exist as a human being, the same freedom so many take for granted. I want to talk about it, I want all of us to fight for it, I want to achieve it so someday, a little 10 year old girl can walk to her convenience store and not worry about the old geysers around the corner leering at her.’

Midoriya doesn’t move to interrupt her, not once. He listens, he absorbs, he aches. Because he knows- everything she says is true, and he can’t relate. He doesn’t face the same treatment. Granted, he faces his fair share of criticism, but his hero persona Deku does. And it’s usually for the way he fights, how reckless he can be, or sometimes how silly his bunny ears look. But never about his body. Never about his personal life. Never about his measurements, at least not in a sexual way.

And Midoriya has never been stared at, especially in a way that makes him feel small or hunted.

When Uraraka makes no move to continue, Midoriya sits on the floor, legs crossed and hands resting in his lap.

‘What can I do? How can I help, if at all?’

Uraraka mirrors his position, and for the first time since he spoke to her that day, there’s a ghost of a smile on her face. It’s a genuine one too, soft and barely there, but honest.

‘You’re a good guy,’ she says, smiling a bit wider. ‘You’re kind, you’ve never made me feel small or objectified or anything. And you don’t speak that way about other people. You speak in terms of strength, and you acknowledge everyone, regardless of gender or other parameters. You’re doing good.’

Uraraka looks to the side, and Midoriya follows her line-of-sight to see Bakugou doing crunches while Kirishima shouts encouragements at him.

‘In an ideal world, people would think more like Bakugou did during the sports festival.’ When Uraraka sees the expression on Midoriya’s face, she bursts out laughing.

‘I’m not saying we need more Kacchans around Deku, don’t worry,’ she reassures him, still giggling. ‘I’m saying he didn’t hold back; despite the backlash he was receiving. He did his best against me because he knew I was strong, and he took me seriously. We need more of that, of being taken seriously, of being on the same ground as all of you. That’s what we crave- being acknowledged as equals.’

‘Uraraka, what’s wrong?’ Iida says from somewhere behind Midoriya. Uraraka quickly rubs at her eyes, trying to get rid of the tear stains.

‘Nothing, nothing,’ she murmurs, shooting Midoriya a look. ‘We were just talking about some stuff.’

Tsuyu sits down beside Uraraka and pulls her into her side. ‘You need anything?’

‘This is good,’ Uraraka says, leaning her weight into the frog hero. Tsuyu tightens her grip protectively, and the girls speak to one another in low voices.

‘She’s fine,’ Midoriya says to Iida as he stands up. ‘We were just talking about how differently we experience the world as male and female heroes.’

‘Ah,’ Iida says, voice subdued. He pushes his glasses up his nose. ‘I’ve read the statistics, it’s honestly disheartening. The number of female heroes ostracized from the hero community for absurd reasons, the number of hate crimes committed against them, it’s outrageous.’

Midoriya doesn’t even realize he’s gone into one of his mumbling rants as he says, ‘Is there anything we can do, like right now? How can we make a difference in the position that we’re in? We are still quite a while away from being pros. We do have licenses though, and we are known in the community. We also have students from affluent families that could help make a difference. But tackling the media is always a delicate matter and-‘

‘Start by taking steps yourselves,’ Jirou says, placing a hand on Midoriya’s shoulder. ‘Of course, all of what I’m about to say doesn’t really apply to you since you do it anyway but speak of us the way you speak about your male counterparts. Treat us with the same respect. Talk about us like we’re human beings with feelings. Just- it’s so systemic, all our biases and all our assumptions and how we treat and view women in society as a whole, so change will take time. We just have to take it one step at a time.’

Jirou takes her hand off Midoriya’s shoulder and shrugs, ‘We don’t want to be coddled, we don’t want special treatment, we don’t want any advantage or upper ground. We just want to level the playing field.’

‘In the meantime, when one of us is tired of fighting the system,’ Tsuyu says, getting Uraraka to her feet, ‘ice-cream and some queer-eye can’t hurt anyone, kero.’

That gets a smile out of Uraraka and Midoriya. The group slowly makes their way out the gym, nudging each other and cracking silly jokes. Jirou confirms that there’s 2 tubs of ice cream in the freezer, and Iida offers to make them popcorn even though he isn’t personally that fond of it. 

There’s an unpleasant clench in Midoriya’s gut, but that’s ok- identifying the problem is the very first step towards fixing it.

And when he looks around him, he thinks they have a pretty good shot at getting it right.

[chibivesicle]

Golden Kamuy - Kikuta really deserved better [part 2] 277-279.

Can you tell by my title that I’m a fan of Kikuta and I have some choice words for Noda?  Chapter 277 starts out with an introduction to the regional politics of Meiji era Japan.  The entire political shift occurred with the marriage of convenience between Choushuu and Satsuma (the Sat-Chou alliance) and how that is playing out in government and the military. With Hanazawa on the Satsuma side a commanding officer is having Tsurumi deal with the damage control.  That being Lt. General Okuda (and Kikuta’s boss)

He discloses how he’s the person who helped to cover up the scandal for Hanazawa and more of the regional politics comes into play as he pulls Tsurumi into this.

Recall that Tsurumi is from Niigata and we know he is from a family that lost power and wealth due to political changes.  He assumes that of course Tsurumi would hold a grudge towards those from the Sat-Chou alliance.  Usami is also from a fallen samurai family in Niigata and we know that Ogata is from Ibaraki and also from a samurai family on the losing side.  Tsukishima is from the island of Sado where unwanted people were dumped in Niigata so he is also an outsider.  We learn of his ‘true’ feelings as the tells his core group his opinion on things.

I love how we get unhinged Tsurumi calling it all a farce and he’s over Central.  But most importantly Okuda confirmed his own intel about the gold he learned while in Russia at some point in time.  His gold plan can slowly move along.  So Tsurumi becomes in the Hanazawa scandal cover up looking for the young 2nd Lt. and Kikuta, working under Okuda’s direct orders.

Despite his best efforts, Kikuta’s plan is revealed by a secretary at the Military Academy, while we know that Sugimoto and Kikuta are en route to the engagement dinner.

Hanazawa panics and sprints out to determine what is happening. Right on his tail is Tsurumi and his key team of Ogata, Tsukishima and Usami.  Clearly this is going to become a huge mess.  The next few pages are amusing, but really don’t add value to the plot.  I am impressed that Kaeko has an excellent plot to get Sugimoto naked and I commend her efforts!  GK is never short of strong female characters.  Who enjoy sex.

This sets up a hilarious moment where he’s naked and trapped in a bedroom while she leverages the potential scandal to her advantage.  By that point Tsurumi has caught up to them.  What is most interesting is when Usami addresses Ogata as Hyakunnosuke and asks him what he thinks about meeting his brother.  It is clear this isn’t out of concern from Usami’s part, we know he hates Ogata to his very core.

But as usual, Ogata doesn’t respond and we just see only a part of his eyes, not even a glance of his lips to give us an idea of what he’s thinking.

Kaeko and Sugimoto continue to talk as she reveals what she knows from Hanazawa Hiro.  She had been a nurse during the first Sino-Japanese war so it has allowed her to reflect on the impact of war on individual soliders.

This tells us a few things;  Hiro’s patriotism is more nuanced.  If she were being selfish and just saying she doesn’t want her son to go off to war without experience it, that would be one thing.  Instead, she knows being a military spouse first hand what happens - no one could say she didn’t do her own duty and go likely above and beyond.  Ultimately, she wants to protect her son from her own experiences and observations and be a mother.

Sugimoto then realizes he needs to bail and leaves poor Kikuta confused.  And then bam! The 27th is there.

Of course this leads to the most Sugimoto situation of all time!  Tsurumi threatens Kaeko with his handgun and Ogata asks where Yuusaku is.  Of course Sugimoto flies out of the bathroom naked sans Kikuta’s hat and Ogata is just amused beyond belief.

This would be complete if he were relaxed eating a box of popcorn or something like that. 278 continues this absolute chaos and lots of fan service for Miss Kaeko!  I really don’t think the fight scene needs much meta.  Ogata just finds it amusing (and btw sucks at hand to hand combat) while Usami rumbles with Sugimoto.  Tsurumi realizes he’s not Yuusaku and Kikuta rushes in and gets shot in the shoulder by Tsukishima.

Somehow, Kikuta is able to get the rest of them to flee but not without running into the actual Hanazawa Yuusaku.  Awkward.  Tsurumi only then realizes that Kikuta was doing his job and they run out into the street.

Kaeko tries her best to convince Sugimoto to marry her.  Granted he is a very heroic figure and he fought to protect her.  However, reality wouldn’t allow that to happen and Sugimoto decides to join the army - thinking he won’t starve that way.

Kikuta looks so sad and disappointed when he hears this.

He’s definitely thinking of his younger brother who died b/c he told him to join the army with him.  I loved the fact that we learn that Kaeko got to be a successful woman who was also compassionate to others. 

There is a quick exchange that shows the first encounter between Ogata and Yuusaku.  Yuusaku notices Ogata and salutes him as a cadet.

Ogata doesn’t even return the salute and he look he gives him out of the corner of his eyes.  What is he thinking?  I’d say Yuusaku doesn’t know who Ogata even is.  But something has him very suspicious to be this leery of him.  This also makes me think of this previous encounter between Koito and Ogata in chapter 200.

This time Ogata is bolder when he walks by Koito who is also currently still in the Army Academy.  Except unlike Yuusaku who doesn’t seem to pick up on Ogata’s vibes, Koito does!  And the two of them stare each other down.  I think that this in part shows that Koito has more innate awareness of things and could be considered more of a ‘natural’ in the military.  Which Yuusaku isn’t.  We have no evidence Yuusaku has any sort of military talent or skills. 

The chapter ends with Kikuta asking Sugimoto if he’s serious about joining the military and how he’s already fated to go to hell based on what he’s done in his life.  279 continues the conversation between Kikuta and Sugimoto and he flat out tells Sugimoto about how his brother died of illness in the army during the Sino-Japanese war.

Sugimoto then becomes Kikuta’s younger brother telling him that it is time to move on.  This continues the trend in GK where a character that is speaking becomes someone else to the listener.

This is most evident with Asirpa when she becomes Yuusaku on more than one occasion to Ogata.

But this facial expression from Kikuta [sobs].

No wonder Kikuta worked so hard to save Ariko’s life!  He can’t just always be responsible for the deaths of others.

Sugimoto convinces Kikuta that he’ll be alright in the army and he relents and lets him keep the cap.  This shows that Kikuta has moved on from the death of his brother - a big deal!  In an unusual way, Sugimoto has helped Kikuta move on and take the next step in the healing process. Kikuta reports to his commander in the 1st.  Okuda wants him to keep an eye on Tsurumi.  Obviously, he knows now that Tsurumi interfered with Kikuta’s plans for Hanazawa rather heavy-handedly so he would need someone else to balance it out.

It then reveals that Ogata is also working for Okuda in the 1st.  This explains why when the two of them crossed paths in the brewery they did not engage but nor did they appear to exchange any information.

I can’t help but feel like something is still off with this.  Ogata does have skills from working in intelligence with Tsurumi.  He’s observant, makes himself invisible and can get others to talk easily.  But Ogata being a 100% willing spy - it seems like he wants something else out of this. Kikuta’s character screams secret agent - but Ogata, he’s something else.  I’m not sure if Ogata’s choice to be a spy on Tsurumi was a real choice.

When Ogata and Tsukishima had their shoot out in Yubari at Edogai’s, Tsukishima told him he was a pet cat for Central.  Ogata replied that they were part of a rebel element.  We know that Ogata was working with Tamai at the beginning of the manga.  I struggle to see how Ogata has loyalty to anyone honestly.  He seems to be moving throughout this game with again his own mysterious objective.  Ogata is cynical and has no belief in the nation state nor does he harbor any sort of deep patriotism towards Imperial Japan.

Since Okuda is friends with Hanazawa and is based in Tokyo, he may have known Ogata since his birth and has kept tabs on him after the Ogata grandparents took him back to Ibaraki with his mom.  Ogata’s existence might be a sort of trump card that Okuda is keeping . . . but others found out as well like Tsurumi.  Did Okuda have Ogata tell or leak information that Ogata is Hanazawa’s first son? The chapter jumps to the 203 meter hill in the war and we see Yuusaku fallen on the battlefield.  Ogata watches from distance, his face cut off while other members of the 27th run out to help Yuusaku.

This finally reveals Yuusaku’s eyes!  Not the anticipated reveal - I kept thinking this was something that Ogata was going to see but it shows us clear eyes.  Which look sort of similar to Asirpa’s eyes.

So many thoughts are jumping around in my brain about this reveal.

1.) These eyes are not the ‘trademark’ Hanazawa eyes.  Dark black orbs with those eyebrows!  This indicates his eyes aren’t from his father.

Seeing this, I can’t help but think that Yuusaku is not Hanazawa’s son.  Instead, Hiro had an affair with someone else.  A major theme in GK is that the children inherit the skills of their parents.  Asirpa is able to do many things as she inherited the intelligence of Wilk.  And that Ogata is the true inheritor of Hanazawa’s military skills.

Recall this from chapter 58.  Ogata leads the crappy local gang against Hijikata and acts like a commander.

We know that Tsurumi’s lie about Ogata wanting to avenge Hanazawa is to keep Nikaido in the dark.

This would also explain why everything we learn about Yuusaku is terrible at military things.  If he also isn’t Hanazawa’s son it would make it even more reason for Hiro to try to prevent him from entering the military since he’s not even genetically related to this great line of Hanazawas.  I wish we knew more about the Ogata side of things - I think we’ll also learn that the Ogata side had competent military men on it as well.  2.) Yuusaku’s eyes are the same as Asirpa’s and indicate their sort of innocence.  In this case, it would perfectly explain why Ogata sees Yuusaku instead of Asirpa when he has the fever and then the melt down on the ice floe.  Yuusaku kept himself naive and innocent to meet his father’s expectations.  A man who I don’t think is even his father at this moment.  Therefore, Ogata’s guilt on killing Yuusaku is tied to his sort of innocence in these situations and why he can’t seem to shake his mental confusion when it comes to Asirpa.  However, unlike Yuusaku, Asirpa has never forced herself on him to do things or guilt tripped him so it leaves things open for him to not link her to Yuusaku.

3.) Yuusaku was going to blow Ogata’s cover working for Okuda.  Now that we know that Ogata was working for Okuda while in the 27th it means he’d have to keep his role quiet.  If Yuusaku found out that Ogata was working for Okuda, I could see him going to Tsurumi and telling him this information.  Therefore, to protect his status, Ogata used this as his rationale to kill Yuusaku on the battle field.  I have never figured out if Ogata was nudged to kill Tsurumi by his ‘don’t kill him right now.’ comment as one of Tsurumi’s backwards motivations that lead Ogata to directly killing him. So many possibilities!  I want more Ogata backstory dammit!

Anyhoo, to not make this meta super long let’s get back to the action. Asirpa begins working out how to try to break the code.  Hijikata notes that Wilk could have used something other than kanji, since he’d know the Latin alphabet for Polish and Cyrillic for Russian.  Shiraishi makes a clear point that this could be a message from Wilk towards her, though it feels like he’s channeling Kiro.  Out of many of the Japanese characters Shiraishi time and time again comes out much more sympathetic to the minorities than others.

Asirpa begins to wonder how the coin is linked to the skins. She’s thinking things through and is on her way to solving the puzzle.

After saving Ariko, Kikuta is returning to Tsurumi’s group in the church.  Oh Roger, this is why I love you so much.

Look at that smirk with a slightly watery eye.  At the same time Tsurumi is also looking at the coin and realizes he’s figured it out.

Kikuta approaches the rest of the group and comments on if he’s found the location.  Tsurumi states that things are just getting started.  He casually pulls out his gun and fires two shots into Kikuta at point blank range.

And with this I am deeply saddened and shocked.  How dare you do that to Kikuta!!!  He was my Kiro replacement and now he’s also going to die.

First Boutarou died and now Kikuta.  [cries].  We know that Tsurumi is a shinigami but this is just brutal.  The bear death trio died early on in the manga.  Ogata escaped.  Kikuta now is the next link to Central that goes down.

[messrmoonyy]

35 for sylki on that touching list. Please

Ah, another prompt I tell myself I’ll keep short then go off on a tangent for that is you squintttt you’ll see the prompt lmao. Anywho. Enjoy my sweet anon.

I’m gonna start posting these requests to my AO3 too if you prefer to read there!

Prompt from this list

Prompt: kissing their bruises and scars

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Sylvie Laufeydottir

Warnings: mentions of injury, mild language

Check my masterlist for all my other writing, requests are always open for prompts from lists or not!

Finding Sylvie again had been just as difficult as Loki had imagined. She’d spent her entire life hiding from people and only letting them find her when she needed them for something. And amongst the madness of new timelines popping up by the second…. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. But Loki had been determined. In fact it had been his one and only point of negotiation when Stephen Strange had caught up to him, agreeing to work with him and fix the mess… only if they could locate Sylvie first.

He wasn’t sure she’d even want to see him. She’d cast him through a time door after all. But he believed he understood her reasons, her motives. She had spent her entire life looking for the man behind the mask, the person in charge of the TVA, the reason she’d been plucked out of Asgard all those years ago. And she’d finally found him. There was no way she was going to simply walk away from that. So he kept looking for her, determined to find her and hoping his thoughts were correct.

Though she didn’t seem to want to be found. Every trail they found ran cold, but there was always a little something that made Loki know she’d been there. So maybe, just maybe, she was waiting for him after all. Leaving him clues but needing to keep moving. Situations on some timelines were getting rough and he found his fear peak everytime he found a trace of her, wondering if she was hurt. She had survived in apocalypses, he knew she could take care of herself. But this was something else.

Loki felt himself almost waiting for Stephen to tell him they weren’t going to look any longer, that clearly she had fled and wasn’t planning on coming back. But he held up his end of the bargain and Loki helped him regain order on some of the timelines they came across, looking for Sylvie in the process.

Though as time went on and Loki lost track of the amount of timelines they had crossed, he could feel his hope beginning to slip. Only still going forward on pure stubbornness alone. Stubbornness to not want to lose someone he loved again. He’d lost everyone he loved up until this point. Frigga was dead. Thor believed him to be dead. Mobius didn’t even know who he was anymore. He had no friends. No family. Just her. Just Sylvie. His Sylvie. So he would remain stubborn and keep searching for her.

And stubbornness clearly payed out.

“ as far as I can tell there’s no Kang variant here. We should be safe for now. But don’t get too comfortable “ Loki looked around the planet they had arrived on. He got the strangest sense of de Ja vu as he looked at the small village in front of him “ this planet seems peaceful enough but nothings usually peaceful for long anymore “

“ where are we may I ask? “

“ planet called… Lamentis-1. It’s completely wiped from existence in a few hundred years time. That’s probably why Kang had no use for it and left it alone “ Loki wanted to laugh to himself, of all the planets. All the timelines. They had to end up there.

“ she won’t be here “ he was still balancing on the knifes edge of wondering if whether or not she hated him or not. And if she did, she wouldn’t go back to Lamentis. The place their connection was established. The place he felt that shift in his chest by the lake. Had she felt that too? Had her heart dropped deep into the pit of her stomach as she sat there holding his hand, looking at him as if he were put on the earth solely for her? had she felt that too?

Or had he simply over reacted about the entire thing, his purely desperate need for affection simply clawing it’s way out in the fear of his impending demise?

“ well we’re here. So. Let’s look around I’m not wasting my time “ Loki gave a nod and followed him through the village. He remembered passing through there with her, but it had been deserted before. The neon sign he had ‘foolishly’ suggested she tried to charge the tempad with, was glowing brightly by the side of the road. It made his head hurt and he turned away, suddenly feeling too bright for his eyes, instead looking at the people that didn’t know their planet would be nonexistent in a few hundred years. At least those on it now would be long dead by then.

“ why did you think she wouldn’t be here? “ Stephen asked as he dodged a man carrying a large stack of boxes of some exotic looking fruit. Loki hesitated for a moment and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“ I er- we. We have been here before. Myself and Sylvie “ Stephen glanced over at him as if silently probing for more information “ when I first met her… we escaped the TVA and I accidentally brought us here. Right on the day the aforementioned ‘wiping from existence’ happened to be in full swing. We were very nearly wiped out with it “ if he thought hard enough he could remember every moment of that day. Right down to the smell of the ash that filled his nose, the feel of the soft seats on the train, Sylvies fingers on his neck in her attempt to enchant him.

He shook his head slightly to free himself from the thoughts.

“ our… ‘ connection’ was first established here. It created a rapid branch on the timeline. The TVA showed up right before a chunk of rock could take us down “ Stephen hummed slightly in understanding and then came to a stop.

“ then you might have an idea of where she would go if she were here? “ the lake. His head told him immediately though he knew it was stupid. She might still hate him, why would she go back to such a place? But… he guessed it was worth a try.

After telling Stephen his hunch they stepped through one of his portals, much more simple than the previous trek he and Sylvie had made across the planet.

He stepped out of the glowing ring, coming to an immediate halt. Partially because the lake looked a lot more beautiful when it wasn’t being destroyed by parts of a planet. But mainly because there was a woman stood there at the edge of the water. He knew it was her simply by her hair and the same black leather outfit she’d had when he last saw her. Even if it was a little more ragged looking now.

“ Sylvie “ he practically gasped her name, shock and relief washing over him at the thought he’d finally found her. The woman froze stiff for a moment before turning around quickly, arm outstretched with a sword pointed towards him. Her face was bruised, her lip split in one corner, blood dried around her nose and a gash through her eyebrow. She looked a mess quite frankly.

But it was her. It was her. Sylvie. No mistaking. Even under the purple of her bruises. He’d not forget a face like hers, he’d been dreaming of it for.. how long had it even been since he’d last seen her? He wasn’t sure.

“ Sylvie “ he tried again, more confident and strong than before “ I’m not going to hurt you. It’s okay “ her eyes were wild, filled with confusion and fear and she didn’t drop her sword “ Sylvie “

“ How do you know my name? “ her voice was the same, If a little hoarse. Exhausted. How long had it been since she’d slept properly? Drank? Ate? He wanted to scoop her into his arms and take her back to the sanctum sanctorum, protect her from what ever had caused her harm.

“ you told me it yourself. Right here on this planet, granted it was a few hundred years ahead of now. It’s me, truly “ he racked his brains for a few moments to think of some way to prove it to her then remembered what was in his pocket. He carried it around with him everywhere just in case he finally found her. His TVA tie. She’d only ever known him in his increasingly grubby TVA uniform. So he assumed it was a good place to jog her memory of him.

He raised his hands in a surrender, the tie in his hand, before taking a few more steps closer.

“ close enough “ she grumbled when he was close enough to be only a few centimetres from the end of her outstretched sword.

“ alright. I understand “ he lowered his hand slowly and draped the tie over her sword. She took a sharp in take of breath at the sight of it, holding it in her hand and looking as if she might cry “ I’ve been looking for you. For a long. Long time “

“ why “

“ because I- “ he cut himself off with a short sigh, deciding now was not the time for him to be making deep proclamations of his love for her. Not when she had a sword pointed at him “ I wanted to make sure you were okay “ he opted for instead.

“ I sent you away “ she said, her eyes darting up to meet his. Clearly she didn’t believe him.

“ to the TVA. A place you believed me to me safe, back to my friend “ he wasn’t sure if he was totally believing that himself as he said it, more so using it as a way to see if that was truly what she’d done. Or if she had just pushed him across space and time to get him out of her way. Kissed him as a mere distraction.

“ but you’re not safe. You’re here “ he nodded again and chanced another tentative step towards her.

“ things are a little… complicated. But we have a safe place. So just come with me, you’ll be safe now Sylvie. Stephen- “ he nodded backwards to where he was still stood observing the two of them “ - is helping us fix our mess “

“ our? “ she croaked, her eyes welling up. It was breaking his heart to look at her in such a distraught manner.

“ yes. Our “ she dropped her sword then and fell into his arms, clutching at him as if he were a lifeline. And he guessed, from the looks of her, he probably was. He held her back just as tightly, trying his best to voice to her that she was safe now. She was home now.

“ we should get back “ Stephens voice attempted to break their moment but Loki refused to let her out of his grasp. He placed a kiss to the top of her head and then shuffled around her slightly so that his arm was tightly around her back, never letting any points of contact drop. To his mild surprise she let him help her walk through the portal, leaning into him slightly and trying and failing to hide a limp in her leg. He’d almost expected her to bark her orders that she could very much walk on her own. But she didn’t.

If fact she was quite quiet after that. Not speaking a word as Loki explained where they were now and that it was safe, talking to her like one would talk to a scared child. He felt as if that was what she’d needed. He didn’t expect she’d had much comfort in her life and he was more than happy to offer it to her now. She didn’t protest when he suggested they get her cleaned up, or when they did just that and she fumbled with the buckles of her leathers and he silently went over to help her. She looked even smaller and afraid without her armour, just the torn undershirt and her trousers.

She was still uncharacteristically quiet as he went to work cleaning her wounds. Sitting her down on the edge of his bed and wiping away the dust and debris of wherever it was she had been. She was Asgardian after all and had her own magic flowing through her veins, so most of her smaller wounds had already began to heal themselves. Though he found a few that were a little worse and silently patched her up.

“ I’m sorry “ she said as Loki finished up, so quietly he wasn’t even sure he’d heard her correctly at first “ I’m so. So sorry Loki “ he looked up at her to see her eyes already on him, tears spilling down her cheeks. Loki reached out for her, his hand cusping her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears.

“ what happened to you “ was all he said, still shocked by how much weaker she seemed. So vulnerable. So afraid “ Darling, tell me “ the name fell past his lips before he could stop it, but she simply leaned into his touch more at the name. She was simply as starved for affection as himself.

“ a lot “ she said with a sniffle, closing her eyes and letting out a shaky sigh “ a whole lot of shit” Loki waited for her to continue, getting her to open up wasn’t a particularly easy thing he’d learnt. So he wasn’t about to try and push and break what he’d seemed to be building on now with her “ after I killed him. I thought. I thought I’d feel brilliant. I’d have some magical awakening and feel like I’d finally accomplished what I had to. Some relief. And I did. For the briefest second then I just…. Nothing. Just pure regret and remorse, hit me so hard I felt sick with it “

Her hand came up over his in her cheek, pulling it down into her lap and holding it tightly. He’d noticed she had thing for holding his hand. He wasn’t exactly against it himself, he wanted to contact as much as she did. Needed the contact as much as she did. If he focussed enough he could sense the magic thrumming below her fingertips, he’d always been able to sense magic. But it felt stronger with her.

“ I ran then “ she continued after a few more moments of silence “ only thing I’m good at. I wanted to look for you. Kinda missed having you being a total arse by my side “ he smiled at that, knowing she had missed him too. It hadn’t just been him pining for her after all “ but the timelines…. It’s mental out there now. People trying to take over and growing more powerful everyday…. Plenty of you out there you know. Right evil bastards some of them “

“ they did this to you? “ he questioned. She shrugged. That was a yes then.

“ some of them. Not all as smart as you’d think. Ran rings round them “ she looked up at him then instead of their intertwined hands “ I didn’t think you’d want to find me again… or if you did you’d just want to kill me. Get me back for what I did “

“ I could never. You had your reasons. I understand “ she seemed to hesitate for a moment before her free hand reached up, her fingers gently grazing over his cheek and his jaw.

“ I missed you, you know “ she said softly “ you absolute arse “ he chuckled slightly and his smile grew when one tugged at her own lips.

He couldnt help but think how beautiful she looked, even with the bruises and scrapes littering her skin.

“ you’re staring “ she commented quietly, her fingers creeping closer towards the nape of his neck and toying with the curls of his hair.

“ I am “

“ narcissist “ she teased, clearly returning back to herself again. He preferred it.

“ maybe “ just looking at her was making his chest tighten. He wondered if his past self would have been quite annoyed at him turning to mush about a woman, found the whole thing funny. But he found that he didn’t even care now. Because hisself that lived on the sacred timeline had a different purpose. A different glorious purpose. But his? It was her

“ what are you thinking about? “ she asked quietly and he struggled to find the words to tell her. He’d never been the best at voicing his emotions. Especially something like this.

“ I- Sylvie- “ he cut himself off with a frustrated sigh and she raised an eyebrow at him before pressing gently to the back of his neck, the faint prickle of magic on his skin. He looked at her and understand what she was asking. And for the first time he didn’t block her as she dipped into his mind, let down the walls he used to keep her out and let her swim around through his thoughts. She closed her eyes, focussing on the clearly difficult task of scrambling around inside of his mind. He tried to keep his mind as clear as possible, the one and only simple thought of I love you floating around on the top. And a minute or so later her eyes snapped open again.

She looked at him as if trying to figure out if he was joking or not. There was a moment of silence between them before her fingers at the back of his neck applied pressure again, this time tugging him into her just as suddenly as she had done the first time. All that time ago back in the Citadel.

He’d wanted to be the one to kiss her the second time though he wasn’t complaining. But when she began to pull away he pulled her right back in again, revelling in the way she almost melted against him. She was still tugging at his hair in a way that was almost painful, but it was all very… Sylvie. So he didn’t even mind. His hands were cautious on her, in the way they always had been. Always careful not to touch her unless she wanted him to.

He pulled back from her lips slowly, trying to savour every last millisecond. Then found his lips moving to brush over the purple bruises that were littered across her face, the cut that sliced her brow, following the landscape of injury over her pale features and down her neck. He finished with a lingering kiss to a fresh scar on her shoulder, having touched every mark of hurt and hatred he could see with love. Every angry moment replaced with a tender one, shifting slightly then so his forehead rest against her shoulder.

She turned her head to the side, nuzzling her nose into his hair, her hand sliding up to cusp the back of his neck again and hold him in place. Neither of them spoke for a few moments longer, not really needing to. Just holding each other, being thankful to finally be back by the others side.

He lifted his head after a few minutes pressing his forehead to hers instead, his thumb brushing across her tear stained cheek.

“ I promise you, with all my heart, that I won’t let anyone hurt you again “

[cardentist]

I know this is Beyond late to the party, it’s been years since I first started simmering on it, but I was reminded of it a bit ago and I think it’s gonna chew a hole in my brain if I don’t find a way to do something with it

the broadway version of be more chill is an adaptation of an adaptation, the rework of the script and the music and the differences in performance choice gives it a Very different tone despite largely being the same story on paper. and this isn’t necessarily a bad thing ! I’d say it’s mostly a give and take, with some things working better and some things working worse between versions and your mileage with both mostly being down to taste.

I loved the passion that clearly went into it, I was interested in the new way the dynamics played off of each other, and I was drawn into the new additions to the score and how it explored and expanded upon a different side of jeremy. I was waiting for the new version to grow on me, to give me the same inspiration that the new jersey production gave me (or rather, a different flavor that I could treasure just as much), and it just. never happened.

I’ve sat on this for a Very long time, I want to like the broadway version, I was Happy to see it given another chance. but my problem isn’t with the music or even with it being Different, my problem is that I think they fundamentally changed the protagonist Without changing the story around him, which creates problems with how the story comes across and sits with you.

the new jersey version worked, for me, because jeremy was fundamentally a good person before the squip influenced him, and he never really stopped being that person. he’d hurt people and he made mistakes, but when you see him make up with christine and michael by the end you’re left with the impression that they’re already set on the path to a healthy relationship with each other. they have things to work on, conversations that need to be had, but you can Believe in the happy ending that it wants you to buy into.

and part of this is achieved by leaving things up to the imagination, by keeping jeremy Simple but implying more by presenting him as a real person. jeremy doesn’t Want to be popular he wants to be happy, but he trusts the authority figure that tells him that it knows what’s best for him more than he does. it’s this level of innocence that makes him genuinely likeable despite what he ends up doing.

the broadway version sought to explore jeremy in more depth, to explore the feelings of self hatred and isolation, the themes of depression and anxiety, in more explicit terms, they complicated jeremy heere. this isn’t in itself a bad thing, I really like “loser geek whatever” as a song, but it shifted the balance in what made the ending work. a moment that used to be jeremy asserting to the audience that he’s never Wanted to be important, that he never wanted popularity or fame, but that he’s giving in to the lead of something else because he’s been convinced that it’s what’ll make him happy is now a ballad that asserts that it’s what jeremy thinks he Deserves.

don’t get me wrong, this new version of jeremy isn’t an inherently bad person, he isn’t even necessarily a fundamentally Different person. they’re both steeped in self hatred and isolation, broadway jeremy Is new jersey jeremy at his core, but broadway jeremy has pointed that inward turmoil Outward. he thinks of himself as the problem, that there’s something wrong with him and always has been, but at the same time he’s actively trying to convince himself that he wants what the squip is offering him because he’s Owed it.

this isn’t a problem on its own, I really vibe with “loser geek or whatever,” it has some Very poignant lines that gel with what jeremy’s always been even with the shift happening with his mindset here, but it’s unfortunately not a change that exists in a vacuum.

I could pick apart the whole musical and lay out all of the differences, but the change that’s prevented me from being able to enjoy the broadway version is “the pitiful children,” on a musical level but most importantly on a story and characterization level.

jeremy’s change in mindset in the broadway version Very Unfortunately leans into the entitled nerd boy trope, which didn’t necessarily have to detract from it (in my opinion, the charm of be more chill in general is how its characters are all tropes presented as real people, who are likeable because of how Human they are. you slowly grow into them the more you realize this), but the pitiful children just shifts jeremy Too Far into that trope in a way that the story never really recovers from.

the original version was the squip’s villain song where he took jeremy pointing out flaws with his actions (letting people get hurt despite having been able to help them and meddling in jeremy’s life in a way that made his relationships Worse) and convinced him that the problem was other people’s free will. he did this not by appealing to jeremy’s own desires, but by presenting other people the way that the squip had been presenting jeremy to Himself this entire time.

jeremy is a character that hates himself, that was so eager to find a way to “get better” because he sees everything that’s happened to him as being tied to some inherent flaw with who he is. the squip took this and reinforced it, convinced jeremy that he’s completely worthless without him, all while presenting himself as a savior figure to jeremy that was going to “fix” him. the pitiful children is the squip insisting that all people are like that, that all people are fundamentally broken and unhappy but that they can be Saved. jeremy going along with the squip here is presented as being tied to both his own self hatred And his desire to help people. the squip took advantage of his Kindness and that colors our interpretation of him as a person.

the broadway version of this scene is, a shell. it’s a mistake. in some ways it’s built on that same basis, it exists On Top Of what it used to be, but it paints jeremy completely differently. it is, quite literally, jeremy putting christine’s agency under his own desires. Now instead of the squip playing at jeremy’s self hatred, it’s convincing jeremy that christine doesn’t want to date him because there’s something wrong with Her Specifically, and the rest of the school is just kind of tacked onto it. it’s jeremy choosing his own desire to date christine Over her freewill while pushing everyone else’s fate to the side (when he knows that they’re Also going to get zombiefied in the process).

it’s a weaker villain song in general, the storybeat of convincing someone that humanity is fundamentally flawed but can be “fixed” is far more chilling than convincing someone that the girl they like is fundamentally flawed because they won’t date them. but it also just changes jeremy’s relationship to christine in a way that can Never be addressed because Jeremy’s the only character that knows it happened and it’s never a conversation that they have together.

it’s even worse in the live version (as opposed to the cast recording) because jeremy is an Active role in the broadway version when he’d had a passive role in the original. in the new jersey version jenna approaches jeremy, opening up about her own unhappiness after he asks her how she feels, the squip tells him that he can help her and Then jeremy gives her a squip. jeremy Watches her immediately become more lively and happy, with her joining the song and dance to convince him that this is the right thing. in the broadway performance jeremy approaches Her, he offers her a squip of his own accord and he brushes her off after she opens up to him in response. it’s no longer a beat reinforcing that the squip is taking advantage of his kindness, but him Openly Dismissing someone else’s suffering while he’s focused on getting what he wants. he’s dancing and singing along with the squip.

both versions of jeremy were manipulated, both versions of jeremy were stripped of their agency, but only one of them had a true villain arc. but their endings are the same. broadway jeremy isn’t an unsalvageable person, he Can grow and get better and I do think that he’s in the right direction for it. but he and christine are Not ready for a relationship, he’s Not at an ending point for his character growth. he did choose her agency in the end, but the fact that it was ever a question for him makes the saccharine tone of the ending feel Wrong in a way that I’ve never been able to move on from. 

broadway jeremy was complicated in a way that made him less likeable as a person but the Ending wasn’t made to accommodate this. the big flashy showdown Worked in the original Because it never convinced us that jeremy wasn’t a kind person. he needed a wake up call and time to heal, broadway jeremy needs therapy. (granted, new jersey jeremy Also needs therapy for the Definite ptsd that he has, but that’s a separate issue).

the broadway version opens a conversation that it wasn’t interested in closing, they left their happy storybook ending for a story that Needed a serious confrontation that challenged their protagonist not just on the fact that they were Wrong but on the fundamental flaws with how they treated and thought of other people. it wasn’t necessarily jeremy’s Fault but he needed more solid character growth than what he was given and it’s a weaker story for it.

I think if the pitiful children had been left largely the same I might’ve been able to grow to like the broadway version and all of its differences, but it’s just the Weaker version as is and it Needed to push the changes harder than it did if it was really committed to this change in direction.

[kuroopaisen]

ripples. (kita shinsuke)

➵  you take up a part-time holiday job as a miko at the local temple. little do you know, you have the same face as the woman kita once loved. 

wc: 5.2k

warnings: f!reader, reincarnation!au, kitsune!au

a/n: remy my love, this one is for you! i love you so so much, and i hope this feeds your need for more inarizaki content. 

A storm pelted against the wooden roof, the sound melting with the tinkle of a woman’s laughter.

An August storm, late summer, heady and heavy.

Kita used to hate weather like this; it meant that everyone else stayed inside, that the swaying fields were out of reach, that tomorrow would be stained with mud. But recently, he’s been enjoying the storms. They meant that, if she was with him, she’d stay.

She sat across from him, her long dark hair pulled behind her shoulders as she bent over the chawan. The little black bowl had seen much use, but it stood strong. In her hand was a little whisk, kneading the matcha at the bottom of the chawan.

Dark splotches under dull eyes. A vacant expression. Rehearsed, mechanical actions. A kosode arranged a little more haphazardly than usual. Her entire form was damp from running through the beginnings of the storm on her way here.

But she had a warm smile for him. She always did.

“Are you getting enough sleep?” Kita asked, straightforward as always. 

She sighed as she raised her head to look at him. She was trying to smile with her eyes, but the light wasn’t quite reaching them. “I am quite fine. Thank you for your concern.”

Kita’s features softened with concern. “You do not have to be so formal.”

“Ah, well,” she smiled, returning her attention once more to the whisk. “I hope you can forgive me.”

There is nothing to forgive, he thought. But he’s sure she’d laugh at him for saying something like that.

“How’s your family?” He asked, grasping for some topic of conversation.

She nodded slowly, eyes still on the bowl. “My younger sister is engaged to be married.”

“Is this something to celebrate?”

“I’m not sure,” she sighed, the slightest of trembles in her hand. “But father is pleased with the match.”

“Rich?”

“And powerful,” she scoffed, shaking her head. “Father expects that this gentleman will be very influential in the coming months.”

Kita knew things were changing, outside his little shrine. By how much, he wasn’t sure. The human world was beyond him, a realm of blood and darkness that he didn’t quite understand. A world that hurt her. Part of him hated it for that.

“Will he expect you to get married?” The question escaped him before he could think about it.

She caught his eye, smiling. “Not as far as I know.”

He breathed out slowly.

“I can stay with you, for now,” she murmured, reaching over and placing her hand over his.

Something was wrong. Something was off. She’s tired. She’s distant.

And he was afraid.

That fear grounded him for a moment in eternity.

✧ ✧ ✧

Kita was better at handling loneliness than most. But even he suffered under the weight of four hundred years. Especially when he’d known what it meant to love.

When she passed, he had taken the time to travel. He only moved during the night, dodging humanity when and where he could. But as the years rolled on, the night began to get blotted with lights – first by fire, later by bulbs.

So, he’d crawled back to his little shrine, hiding himself away in the nooks and crevices. This was his place, and it always would be. His duty was to remain here, as something of a guardian spirit. So he would do just that, even if it brought him little enjoyment.  

Sometimes, he let children catch a glimpse of him. Usually, he could mirror their joy, their wonder. But even that hadn’t been lifting his spirits as of late. He’s been reticent, perhaps even melancholic.

But he hung around the shrine anyway, letting the days ebb on into an endless eternity. It hounded him, that never-ending existence that stretched out before him. He’s wise enough to recognise the irony in a kitsune feeling existential, but he’s always felt more human than most.

Today, he made his way to the shrine, slipping through cracks under doors and the gap where wooden planks meet each other. It’s easy for him to move around in his spirit form, more a mist than a man.

He slipped into the central shrine, duty-bound as always, to accept whatever offerings had been laid forth.

He hadn’t expected what lay in wait for him.

A miko, dark hair drawn back in a ponytail and red hakama tied over a white kosode.

You were sweeping the floor, mind seemingly somewhere else. You were humming to yourself, and Kita couldn’t help but feel this was awfully familiar. Something about your shrine had the echo of what he’d seen long ago, one of the dances the miko at his shrine would perform.

The miko had made a return, apparently. In the last few decades, they’d become something of a cultural icon. A lot could change in four hundred years.

You turned around, and Kita finally caught a glimpse of your face.

He froze.

It was her face. The woman he’d loved, adored, mourned. The woman who had left such an impact on him, who had engraved herself so deeply into his very being that he still felt the ripples of his love for her all these centuries later. The woman he had spent so many stormy afternoons with, cooped up in each other’s warmth.

He was more keyed into the secrets of the universe than most, being a kitsune and all, but even he was dumbfounded.

Kita took a deep breath, settling into his fox form. You most likely wouldn’t trust some random man coming up to you and insisting that ‘yes, actually, I am the patron spirit of this place.’ But he was sure that his fox form would grant him some authority on the subject.

He padded to the centre of the room, sitting himself down on his haunches. He wasn’t really aware of it, but it was quite regal. His four tails swished around him with a slow rhythm, each one tipped with black. His pale grey fur gave off a brilliant shimmer in the sunlight that fell between the window slats, creating a real sense of grandeur as he sat there.

He stared at you for a long moment, blinking his large brown eyes.

You stared back, gormless.

Maybe he should say something—

You thrusted the broom forward, waving it in front of his snout. “Shoo!”

He jerked his head back, stunned.

Had you not noticed his tails? Did you think he was just some average fox, scuttering in from the cold? Would he have to show you his human form?

It’s worth a shot, he thought.

He transformed in a flash, body morphing into something adjacent to humanity, fur knitting itself together as an edo-style haori.

You watched him change with wide eyes, knuckles blanching as you gripped the hilt of the broom.

Kita gave you a little wave. “Hello.”

You screamed.

Kita flinched. Why were you screaming? Wouldn’t people come running?

He took a step towards you, hands outstretched. His first instinct was to comfort you, to let you know it was all okay – after all, you had her face. “It’s okay, I—”

You whacked his hand with the broom.

Kita faltered, staring at you with wide eyes.

You… hit him? A kitsune? With a broom?

You blinked at him.

He blinked at you.

He traced your face with his eyes, his mind swirling with images of her. A beauty as fresh as the petals that bloom in spring, as clear as a spring, as bright as the morning dew.

Her face. You had her face.

You made a solid jab at his chest. Kita stumbled back, eyes wide. What were they teaching mikos these days?

He didn’t get the chance to ask. You fled, dashing out of the room with a small billow of your hakama.

He stood in dumbfounded silence, unsure of how to process what had just happened. You were the spitting image of her. But, you weren’t her. If you were, you wouldn’t have screamed. She had never run from him, never screamed. She had always treated him with respect, with a sense of reverence that came with her role as a miko. You… well, you were quite the opposite.

But you had her face. Her voice. Eternity shuddered to a stop, blocked by her – or was it your – face. Each memory flashed through his mind with startling vibrancy, coupled with a swell of emotion he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Oh, he realised. I’ve made a terrible mistake.

✧ ✧ ✧

A dozen web articles and a trip to the library later, you’d come to the conclusion that you had most definitely done something quite heretical on sacred ground.

Presuming, of course, that the man you’d whacked in the shrine was, in fact, a kitsune.

Your immediate instinct had been to run far, far away from that place; maybe even skip the country for a week or two. But then you’d considered the consequences of that. Would you be cursed? Did kitsunes inflict curses? You certainly hadn’t treated him very well. You’d hit him, actually. You thought that, at the very least, deserved an apology.

So there you stood, in the middle of the shrine, wrapped bento box in hand.

You weren’t quite sure why you’d come back. Maybe to prove to yourself that it was real, and that you weren’t just seeing things. Maybe because it might’ve been a practical joke, and you wanted the closure. How someone could’ve pulled such an elaborate ruse, well… that was beyond you, for now.

But going from seeing… that, to trying to pretend that everything was normal? That didn’t feel possible.

You’d only taken up this position as a holiday job. The extra cash didn’t hurt, and you thought it was an interesting way to spend the winter…

“Hello.”

You flinched, turning around. How on earth—

No, you shouldn’t be so surprised that he’d managed to sneak up on you. Not when a real kitsune was standing right there. A kitsune that you’d hit with a broom.  

You bowed, almost at a perfect ninety-degree angle. “I am so sorry.”

The kitsune blinked at you for a moment, but you don’t see it. “It’s okay.” His voice was soft, perhaps even comforting.

You stood up and held the bento box out to him with stiff arms.

The kitsune raised his eyebrows at you.

“I, uh… I did some research, and…” You swallowed, hoping you weren’t about to make a fool of yourself. “Kitsune like inarizushi? Apparently?”

He stared at you for a very long moment. It was a little rude, truth be told.

You stared right back. Was this the right thing to do?

“Yes,” he cleared his throat, giving you a small bow. “Thank you.”

“It’s an apology,” you blurted out, your face feeling a lot hotter than you would’ve liked it to.

“What for?” The kitsune asked, tilting his head at you.

“For… for hitting you.” You could feel your cheeks growing hot. God, this was already a bit of a disaster.

“Oh,” he smiled softly at you, shaking his head. “It’s okay.”

“I wouldn’t have done it if I’d…” You took a deep breath, unable to meet his eyes. “If I’d known you were actually some kind of yokai.”

An amused glint sparked in his eyes. “You’re at a shrine. What did you think I was?”

“Well I…” You opened your mouth, braving a look at his face. “I don’t know.”

He was smiling now. And it made him quite beautiful. “You’re a miko.”

“Well, not really…” You bit your lip, glancing down at the bento box. Your arms were starting to ache, stiff as they were. “I didn’t really… believe in any of this before a couple of days ago. I just needed a part-time job over the uni holidays.”

He stared at you.

That was certainly different. She’d been deeply spiritual, seeing her role as intensely important. And yet you, the girl with her face, did not.

“I see,” he murmured, glancing at the floor. Uni holidays… was that university? Sometimes he struggled to keep up with the evolution of language. And that was to say nothing of the spattering of English words he heard people use. That was a whole other beast.

But that was of no matter. He looked back at you, a gentle smile on his face. “What do you study?”

You stared at him, silent.

He tilted his head at you. “Are you alright?”

“Well I—I guess I just didn’t think that, you know…”

You bit your lip.

He’s a kitsune. A yokai. Oh shit, did that mean Inari existed, too? Was this guy linked to Inari? What if he was Inari? Was that possible?

“Oh, the inarizushi,” he murmured, his eyes now on the bento box. You’re not sure why he suddenly decided to focus on that, almost as if to give you a reprieve in your little verbal breakdown, but you were more than delighted for this opportunity to change the conversation.

“Yes!” You sounded more enthusiastic than you would’ve liked, but hopefully this would smooth things over. But if anything, you needed appeasing more than he did.

You handed it over tentatively, deliberately trying to not let his fingers brush against yours. This was a whole new world for you, and you didn’t understand the consequences of such things. Better not tempt fate. 

The kitsune settled himself down on the floor, folding his legs beneath him.

You raised your hands to shoo him off, driven by instinct. You weren’t going to let him leave crumbs.

The kitsune blinked at you, brown eyes round and quizzical. “Is there a problem?”

You paused, hands raised in front of you. Well, it was his shrine…

“Sit with me, if you’d like,” he smiled softly, nodding at the floor next to him.

You let a moment pass, watching his face closely. He gazed at you, tilting his head to the side. He looked genuinely confused. Did he… want you to sit with him?

You sat yourself down on the floor with a sigh. You thought it best to adopt the seiza position, knees on the floor as you tucked your legs underneath you, folding your hands in your lap.

“Please, relax,” he nodded at you with a smile. He unwrapped the bento box, picking up the chopsticks with a certain kind of elegance.

He smiled down at the inarizushi in his lap. You had no idea that he was comparing them to the ones she used to make him. Hers were neater, more delicate. Yours had all the signs of inexperience; rice was spilling out of one of them, and the casing looked a little too thick. But, you’d put in the effort, and that was enough to touch his heart.

You were just observing him quietly, your mind wandering off in its own direction.

If you’d told your younger self that you would be talking to a real, breathing kitsune, you would’ve spun some romantic fantasy of what that kitsune would be like. Skin like lily petals, hair white as snow and soft as silk, elegantly pointed ears, a face with all the sharpness and grace of a fox. That’s what you would’ve expected.

It wasn’t that he was a disappointment. It was just that there was a gravity to him; and yet, a sense of ethereality that you’d never seen before.

“So,” he hummed, picking an inarizushi up between his chopsticks. “You didn’t think my kind existed.”

You blinked at him for a moment. “Honestly? No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?” He popped the inarizushi in his mouth, chewing at an unhurried pace.

You didn’t really have an answer for that. “I just… didn’t.” Frankly, you just hadn’t thought about it. Nothing more to it.

He gazed at you, tilting his head. There was rice stuck to the corner of his mouth. “And now?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think now?” He said, gesturing to himself.

“Well, you’re…” You looked him up and down once. “You’re certainly real.”

He smiled at that. “Anything else?”

Was he asking for your opinion? “I guess you’re… different. From what I might’ve expected.”

“And what is that?” There’s a playful lilt to his voice.

“I… I don’t really know,” you admitted, twiddling your thumbs.

The kitsune just smiled as he picked up another inarizushi. “These are good.”

“Thank you.” You give him a half-bow, relieved that your efforts paid off. At the very least, you hadn’t angered him. Although, you weren’t quite sure if you could imagine this man as anything other than composed.

“Could you make me more?” His voice was gentle, halfway between a command and a question.

“Uh… not… not right now…”

“I meant for tomorrow,” he said.

“Oh.”

Right.  

“Could you, please?” He leant forward, and you caught your breath.

There was such sincerity in his voice. Quite honestly, you still weren’t sure how to process everything that was happening. Kitsunes were real. One was sitting right in front of you. And he’d enjoyed the lunch you’d made him. So much so that he wanted you to make more.

Was it right to deny a spirit?

You took a deep breath, clenching your fists in your skirt. “Well, if I’m going to be bringing you lunch, then I may as well introduce myself.”

He smiled, tilting his head to the side. “Yes, that’s a good idea.”

You made your introduction quick, trying your best not to stutter through your own name.

But he smiled, repeating it back to you in a melodic cadence.

“What… what should I call you?” You asked.

A certain softness entered his eyes. “Call me Kita.”

✧ ✧ ✧

“Would you like some?” Kita held the bento box out to you, tilting his head to the side.

You were sat across from him on the ground, safely shrouded by a wall so that no-one else would see the two of you. He’d implored you to sit with your legs crossed this time, and you’d complied.

But, you certainly weren’t comfortable enough to intrude. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to take away from your—”

“Please,” he nudged the box towards you. “You seem hungry.”

You tilted your head at him, unsure of how to respond.

“You’ve been glancing at my lunch ever since I opened it.”

“Oh.” You lowered your head, suddenly embarrassed. “Right.”

“Are they not feeding you?” Kita frowned, looking around the room.

He’d shown up, without any warning, while you were preparing omamori. Trying to explain to your superiors why such a piercing shriek ripped from your throat that didn’t involve the sudden appearance of this strange kitsune friend of yours had perhaps been the most challenging part of your entire miko experience.

“No, it’s not that!” You waved your hand at him. “They treat me quite well.”

“But you’re hungry.”

“I just… forgot to eat lunch, that’s all.” It was the truth – you were hungry only because of your own mindlessness.

Kita held the chopsticks out to you, placing the bento box on your lap. You took the chopsticks from him tentatively, giving him a half-bow. “Thank you.”

You picked up an inarizushi with the chopsticks, popping it into your mouth. Even just the feeling of food in your mouth gave you a sense of relief. You nodded at him again, smiling.

He smiled right back, his hands folded in his lap.

“Hey,” you swallowed, your gaze flitting downwards. “Can I ask you some questions?”

“Of course,” he nodded.

“Thank you, Kita.” You gave him another small half-bow.

He blinked at you. He hadn’t expected hearing you say his name would make him feel so… odd. But, you’d said it just as she had, all those years ago, inflection and all.

“How are kitsunes born?” You asked, shovelling some rice into your mouth. It was the opposite of elegant, but Kita almost found it charming. Almost.

But, your question made him blush. “I… would prefer not to answer that.”

Your own cheeks burned in response. Maybe that was a bit too much. “Okay… how long have you been alive?”

“Do you remember how many tails I have?”

“Uh…” You frowned, trying to remember that very eventful day. “Four, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“So… four hundred years?” That’s what those many hours trawling the internet would indicate.

“And a half,” Kita smiled.

He’s just happy to be talking to someone. To be seen, heard, felt by someone. 

He’d been warned against reaching out to people by some other yokai, but Kita had been unable to quell that curiosity. There was much delight to be found amongst humans and their lives, and Kita had always enjoyed observing them. And they really were delightful to speak to, whenever he could. Besides, was it not his duty as a spirit to maintain good relations between the two worlds?

But ever since she had passed away, he’d been reticent. He’d gained more understanding of where that advice came from. Advice that perhaps, came out of a profound sense of loss. Something he now understood much too well. 

Maybe it’s foolish of him, sitting here and talking to you so frankly, simply because you looked just like her. Was this some kind of reincarnation? A coincidence? Maybe it was just a cruel trick of the universe – or an expression of its fundamentally uncreative and cyclical nature. 

“That’s… a while,” you nodded slowly.

“Some kitsune may say that I’m barely an adult,” he chuckled.

“Really?” You frowned.

“I’ve much more life to live if I want to be considered wise,” he said.

You gazed off for a moment, blinking slowly. Four hundred years sounded like an awful long time to you, but… well, you weren’t immortal. And this man sitting with you likely was. An uncomfortable feeling crawled its way through your chest, your mind circling with thoughts and questions you didn’t feel quite ready to grapple with.

The conversation needed to move on.

You frowned, tapping your lips with the tip of the chopsticks. “Okay, so.”

“Yes?”

“What’s been your favourite decade to live in?” 

He paused, doing some quick fact-checking in his mind. “The fifteen hundreds, I believe.”

“Why?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Kita murmured, looking away from you. How would he even begin to explain that? ‘I was in love with someone who looked and sounded exactly like you?’ He prized honesty, but perhaps that was too honest.

You blinked, biting your lip. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” 

“It’s okay.” He turned to give you a weak smile. 

A tenuous silence stretched between you, and he almost regretted being so terse. Almost. 

“Are other yokai real, too?” You asked, poking at the rice. 

“Some of them.”

“Only some?” You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“If you ever get yourself a cat, you better keep an eye on its tail.” 

You swallowed, unsure if he was joking or not. “Are… ghosts real?” 

“Perhaps it’s best if you don’t know the answer to that question.”

“Uh…” You turned the thought over in your mind for a second. “I’m not sure.” 

You turned your attention back to the inarizushi, popping a few more into your mouth and chewing away contentedly. After a few moments, you gestured to the bento box, your mouth full of food.

Kita nodded, holding his palm out. 

You placed the chopsticks in his hand, blushing as your fingers brushed against his.

“Tell me about yourself,” he hummed, setting the bento box in his own lap. 

You swallowed, your face growing hot. “There’s not really anything interesting to say.” 

“Why did you choose to be a miko?” 

“It’s just a part-time job,” you shrugged, playing with the fabric of your skirt.

“But you could have chosen from a whole range of jobs,” he persisted. “But you’re here. Why?”

You paused, turning the question over in your mind. “I don’t know… it seemed interesting?”

Kita nodded. “Why?”

“I… I guess I thought it would be a fun way to connect with the culture,” you shrugged. “Because it’s… very traditional.”

“Have you enjoyed yourself?”

“I have.” You could answer that question confidently, at least.

“That’s wonderful to hear,” he smiled softly.

“I should get back to work,” you sighed, rising to your feet.

“Be sure to take care of yourself,” he nodded, getting up himself. “Don’t overwork yourself.”

You cocked your head at him. “Huh?”

He shook his head. “Nevermind.”

Those were the words he’d say to her, all those years ago. Words that she never heeded as much as he wished she would.

But, he had to remind himself, time and time again.

You’re not her.

✧ ✧ ✧

“You’re very good at making those.” Kita sat on the floor next to you, watching as you arranged little omamori into the categories of a large wooden box.  

“What, these?” You held one towards him.

“Yeah,” he nodded, taking it from you gently. He turned it over, the sky blue silk soft beneath his touch. 

“Thank you,” you blushed

“I don’t recognise this colour,” he murmured. “What are they for?” He asked, deciding that he’d hold on to this little omamori. You’d made it yourself, after all.

“That one’s a love charm,” you nodded at his hand, smiling as you organised a set of gold silk rectangles. “Apparently they’re very popular during the New Year.” You pointed at another group of pink and blue charms in the box. “The one you’re holding is for single people, but these ones are for couples.” 

He swallowed, turning it over in his hand. A love charm. She had made him one, all those years ago. Albeit, she had given it to him with a lot more intention.

“Thank you,” he murmured, tucking it into the sleeve of his kimono.

You grinned at him, eyeing his sleeve. “Hoping it’ll help you out?”

“I—” His cheeks bloomed red as heat crawled up his neck. Perhaps he’d been thinking about love more often, these days. But he wasn’t quite ready to process all of that. Was he so obvious?

“I’m just teasing,” you giggled.

He fought back the urge to pout. He was glad, at least, that you felt comfortable enough to say something like that. But, it saved him at least a little bit of embarrassment.

You’d been visiting him for the past few weeks, bringing him inarizushi every shift you’re in for.

And it made him so, so happy. He’s being seen. Being noticed. And, he liked talking to you. Maybe more than he should. More than he wanted to.

“When was the last time you’ve been to town?” You wondered, looking at him.

Kita frowned. “Uh… a couple hundred years, maybe?”

You gaped at him. “What?”

“Well, I…” He stopped, tilting his head at you. He didn’t quite know what to say. Yes, it had been a very long while, but he’d only just found the strength to open himself up to the human world like he once had. He’d been an observer for the past few centuries, but it had been quite a long while since he’d engaged like that. And besides; ‘town’ must be very, very different.

You scratched the back of your head. “Do you want to?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you want to go to town?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m going to a festival this Friday,” you said, smiling at him. “It’s nearly New Year’s.”

Oh, right. New Year’s. 

Would you leave him, once the year turned over? 

He swallowed the thought back. No, he wouldn’t think about that. He didn’t want to. 

“Come with me on Friday,” you smiled, placing your hand on his shoulder.

Kita froze, feeling a certain kind of warmth in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. A type of warmth he hadn’t felt since her. A type of warmth that was at once exhilarating and terrifying. 

“It’ll be fun, I promise!” You beamed. If you’d noticed his reaction, you didn’t give him any indication.

“Okay,” he mumbled, suddenly much more interested in the omamori in his sleeve than before. 

“Yay!” You clapped your hands together, your face full of joy. “I’ll see you Friday!”

Kita swallowed roughly. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. But he didn’t want to say no to you. Not when you were smiling at him like that.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Are you alright?”

Kita blinked, looking at you. “Hm?”

“You look… uncomfortable,” you said, tilting your head at him. “I mean, I think that’s discomfort on your face.”

He swallowed, looking down at the ground. “It’s just… there’s a lot of people.”

The two of you were stood at the edge of the crowd, just out of the light of the lanterns. Kita knew that there was going to be a large throng of people, but he hadn’t expected it to be so busy.

“We don’t have to go if it’s too much,” you smiled, folding your hands behind your back.

“No,” he shook his head. “I want to try.”

You nodded, looking over the crowd. “We’ll go when you’re ready, okay?”

Kita gazed at you for a moment. He was glad that you shared her kindness. But, it was also very much your own; a sense of compassion that you’d cultivated yourself.

He took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. A myriad of scents flooded his nose – lanterns burning, tea brewing, fish cooking. It was almost overwhelming, the entire area laced with such dense, powerful sensations.

“I’m ready,” he murmured, opening his eyes.

“Wonderful,” you cheered, hopping into the lamp light.

“Try not to get lost,” you said to him, glancing at him over your shoulder. Your face was bathed with golden lights, your eyes glittering in a way that made his heart ache.

Kita nodded, gazing over the crowd. There were so, so many people; more than he’d seen for centuries.

There was life in front of him. Humans, chatting, laughing, glowing. Each of them was a ripple, a reinterpretation of someone who had come before. But they were also individuals; people with their own lives, dreams, hearts.  

Kita took your hand, an action taken partly on instinct, partly on desire. He didn’t want to lose you in this crowd, to watch you disappear into the mass of heads milling around the street and leave him alone. But he wanted to be close to you too. To feel your warmth. 

You turned and smiled at him, and his heart felt light. Lighter than it’d felt for centuries.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew why.

He felt seen. Understood. No longer a ghost flitting between the corridors of a shrine, full of aimless yearning.

You were smiling at him with her face, her eyes. But, you were not her. No, you were someone else entirely – someone just as wonderful.

The feeling of your hand in his. A sharp memory, yet something new. Something that felt like a possibility.

This little affection, this small gesture, anchored him to the present. Even if just for a second, you chased away eternity.