#the “take care of the monster” signs in the air vent are so funny to me; who put them there

[raeofalbion]

Stellar Blade screencaps | part 2 of ? Levoire

[dark-mnjiro]

the monster [who tells lies]

Rating: Teen or up - nothing too serious

Warnings: betrayal, ending friendship, attempted/faked s*icide, angst, hurt, lies, heavily a venting fic, bakugou x f!reader friendship/established relationship, midoriya x f!reader friendship/established relationship (heavily friendship)

Author’s Note: this is heavily based on L’s famous monster speech in Death Note and a venting fic regarding a person in my life that did nothing more than hurt and use me. I apologize if this one shot is terrible and horribly RUSHED. I was on a roll and I needed to get these feeling out.

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the monster [who tells lies]

Whipping around the turn up the stairwell, you could hear a siren alarming overhead. You quickly wiped the sweat from your brow as you looked behind you to find your fellow classmates quickly following you, Bakugou leading the pose. Exhaustion was starting to set in as you tried to catch your breath before he stepped closer, grabbing your wrist.

“Hey,” he said, his voice going stern. “Slow down. We’re all behind you. We’re going to catch them this time.”

Nodding, you turned as you continued to make your way up the staircase with him matching your pace. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the sheer loyalty your friend had entrusted you with…

“You’re sure the traitor went that way?” Midoriya called out from the group. “I don’t see any signs of-”

“If y/n said the traitor went this way,” Bakugou snapped at his classmate. “I believe it!”

A giggle bubbled from your throat as you thanked Bakugou for his faith in you as you managed to finally reach the top floor of the school. You glanced at your best friend before earning a smirk from him as he forced the door to the roof open. You both raised your arms, shielding your eyes from the bright sunlight glaring from overhead.

As the group’s eyes adjusted to the sudden change in lighting, you looked out into the roof before taking a step outside. The corners of your lips dropped into a frown as you could hear Bakugou growl in frustration. You walked toward the railing, gripping the metal tightly within your hands as you made sure to keep your back toward your friends to avoid the look of disappointment in their eyes.

“I’m confused?” Midoriya asked, following as his head darted around. “Where’s the traitor! Kaachan! Did they escape?!”

“Deku! I can’t tell!” he snapped. “Idiot!”

“I don’t see anyone nearby!” called out Uraraka, who floated high above the group, using her gravity quirk.

“Are you sure you saw them, y/n?” Midoriya asked again, frowning. “I’m sure they were moving too quickly—”

You closed your eyes as a smirk curled over your lips as your head fell forward. A small laugh erupted from your throat before you turned toward your 1-A classmates. “Can I let you in on a little secret?” you asked, playfully.

Frowning, Bakugou took a step toward you as his eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong? Hey-! What are you doing?!”

“There are so many different types of people in the world,” you said, beginning to walk toward him as your smirk grew wider. “So many monsters in his world. So many evils…”

“Y/N,” Midoriya whispered, frowning more. “Hey calm down. What’s wrong? Maybe we can help you.”

“We should head out of here before the other Pro-heroes arrive,” Denki said, trying to ease the situation.

“Yeah let’s—”

“Y/N!” Bakugou shouted, rushing toward you as you began climbing the metal railing. He faltered as he watched you balance your body on it. “Get the hell down from there! You could fall!”

Tilting your head, you flashed him another playful smile. “Oh Bakugou,” you cooed. “Have you learned nothing?”

“I said get down! This joke isn’t funny anymore!”

“Yes please! Get down! This is dangerous!” Midoriya shouted, standing next to Bakugou now as they both attempted to plead for your safety.

Another giggle erupted from you as you looked out onto the city. “Monsters can’t be trusted,” you said simply before glancing back at the two students. “They always tell lies.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“God dammit! Get down from there before I drag your ass back down the stairs!” Bakugou shouted at you.

You tutted him before wagging your finger. “Now now Bakugou,” you teased. “Temper, temper.”

“Kaachan,” Midoriya said, softly as he reached out and grabbed his friend’s shoulder. “I think—”

Bakugou’s red eyes flashed dangerously as he jerked violently away from Midoriya before turning his attention. “That can’t be true!” he shouted, angrily. “You would never do that to us! To me!”

All you could do was smile. “How clever, little Midoriya…” you said, applauding his observation. “I’m impressed.”

He frowned, trying to restrain Bakugou from rushing you. “Just tell us why,” he said, wincing at Bakugou’ aslee of swears and shouts. “Why did you betray us?”

“Why?” you repeated, as you began to stroll on the metal railing, holding your arms out playfully balancing yourself. “I’m not sure I even know why…”

“But we were your friends!”

“What are friends other than simple tools to use,” you continued. “I told you, little Midoriya. I’m nothing more than a monster. A monster that tells lies.”

“Shut up!” Bakugou nearly screamed. “What about-?”

“You were just a means to an end Katsuki…” you teased, giggling at the pain that flashes in his crimson eyes. “What sweet lies I fed you too… and you believed… every. single. word.”

“Shut up!” he repeated in a pain stricken voice. “Shut up!”

“It’ll be over soon Katuski,” you cooed. “And you’ll never hear from me again… and this time, you can trust me.”

“What-?!”

“Oh god-NO!” Midoriya shouted as he and Bakugou raced toward you as you smiled at the two friends before taking a step back and off of the railing. You watched as they leaned over the railing calling outside your name.

Your eyes slowly slid shut as you relaxed into your free fall, welcoming your upcoming death with welcome arms. There was nowhere to go after admitting you were, in fact, the traitor who had informed the League of Villains just where the UA students were training. A vengeful child, just trying to find some ounce of justice for your parents who lived in constant poverty until their death thanks to the corruption of the Heroes Commission.

Memories flashed through your mind, replaying like a small, silent movie. If you weren’t a top hero… you were nothing. And quite frankly, you were sick of it. Watching your parents work themselves to death for what? Nothing, but their own death certificates handed to you after sacrificing themselves for a city that never cared for them.

“It’s finally over,” you whispered to yourself.

But the bottom never came, until you felt your body almost slow as you slipped through a familiar, purple portal before your back slammed against the hardwood of a bar. The air in your lungs was forced out of your chest as you gasped for air. Your eyes snapped open before sitting up, groaning in pain.

“Oops…” you heard a voice say from behind the bar as you groaned again. “I didn’t slow you down enough. I apologize.”

Your eyes narrowed at Kurogiri. “Took you long enough to even show up!” you snapped at him.

“I had to make sure they really believed you’re splattered all over the street. If I had made a portal too early, they would’ve caught on,” he explained as he continued to shine a glass.

Shaking your head, you forced yourself to your feet. “I could’ve managed my way out of that anyway. They would’ve believed anything I’d tell them with my quirk.”

Kurogiri chuckled. “That Sweet Talk quirk of yours is something to be impressed with,” he said.

Grinning, you dusted yourself off. “I’m quite proud of it.”

“And you should be,” he said, before patting you on the head lightly. “Now get yourself cleaned up. The others will be here soon. We must go over the next phase of our plans.”

“Perfect.”

[border-spam]

Leech Lord - Nobody loves me like you

It was so late it felt like time itself had passed out, that void somewhere in the AM between being tired enough to fall asleep where you stand and feeling the nervous energy of dawn approaching.

The air in the Mechanicum was crisp with night chill when the E-Dev in her pocket vibrated, and Saint Ur-Machina's heart sunk in her chest as she grimaced under her welding mask. No need to check who it was, she'd known before he'd even sent the message.

The God-King was angry.

She sighed, rubbing oily hands into oilier overalls, and frowned at how pointless a gesture trying to clean them had been at all, picking bits of filth out from under her nails as she leaned against the rough wall of the hangar. Pointless maybe, but a distraction, and Seifa needed one of those right now.

The God-King was angry with himself, and that meant the people he cared about the most would take the rage.

The workfloor clock read 3:56AM where it hung from the rafter above her station, clunky ticking echoing across the empty bay. No one but her still working, and she shouldn't really have been there either considering the hour, but that had stopped feeling like it mattered a long time ago. She was always there now. Always working, like she haunted the place. Funny, she used to be so good about managing her time...

The welding mask threw a cloud of sawdust as it bounced across the floor towards the machine she'd kicked it at. She didn't even know what to call the horrible thing that loomed in front of her, some juggernaut of sleek metal she'd been ordered to run performance checks on, jagged lines illuminated by the sickly floor lamps she'd arranged around its skeleton.

Warmachines. Unnamed projects with stacks of paperwork marking them as highly classified, Troy's insignia and the same word she kept seeing over and over in confidential documentation - Uroboros. Tasted like a bad idea, reeked of poor decisions, and she'd always sniffed those out like a Skag.

What the hell did Seifa A'Rosk know about warmachines anyway? They used to build Technicals here, outriders. COV custom Cyclones for stream events, this wasn't what she signed up for, none of it was. Managing the engineering crew should never have shifted into whatever the fuck THIS was.

The steel monster in front of her bled oil silently into the sawdust, refusing to give an answer. Whatever this was, it was for Gods and Sirens, and that was a world she wasn't part of, not really. She wasn't a Saint, she was just a ghost, caught repeating the same mistakes over and over till she faded away.

The E-Dev in her pocket vibrated again, and she tapped the back of her head against the plate steel wall, trying to convince herself she wasn't ready to vomit as she squinted up towards the hangar's ceiling, lost to the night murk the lights around her couldn't quite cut through.

She figured she should answer, making him wait was just going to make this worse.

Jak-Knife had already warned her, a curt ping earlier today to "sstay ou t of his way it s bad seiifa". Ven too when he'd dropped by in the afternoon with the excuse of worrying about if she'd eaten yet and half a bag of something spicy and dripping in grease. He'd said the Cathedral staff were noose tight and whispering nervously about an incident a few hours before, something had gone wrong in a talk with visiting sponsors - with the twins. Word on the rumour mill was it had nearly turned vicious, the suits looking ready to brick themselves as they'd all but ran through the meeting room's doors after Troy had flung them open hard enough to unhinge one, and according to priests who'd been on hand? Tyreen had really embarrassed him.

Sei had winced as Ven explained, both painfully aware of this behaviour pattern and what it meant for everyone he was close to. Why the God Queen had been going out of her way to put her brother down in front of high-value clients recently was impossible to guess - no one could really get into her head or understand her decisions lately, but this wasn't the first time, and if anything it was getting worse. Little insults. Little knife-sharp jokes that weren't jokes at all, and mockeries masked behind a paper thin smile like it made them less deadly. She'd imply he was a burden, or undermine his expertise in ways so cleverly worded that the officials would have no choice but to laugh awkwardly as Troy seethed while his twin continued with negotiations.

Today she'd apparently told him to make himself actually useful and fetch their guests some drinks, right in front of servant crew and moments after he'd finished a grueling breakdown of growth projections and profit expectations for this quarter to a rapt audience. It's hard to tell if him snapping had actually surprised her or had been exactly what she wanted, but the staff who'd been there were terrified, and insisted the Vault Mother had looked genuinely shocked when the desk he threw had missed her head by barely a few inches.

He'd stalked out of the meeting and vanished into the upper cloister, and now it was the middle of the night and her E-Dev pinged for a third time.

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe out the fear coiling through her ribs in a shaky exhale. She knew exactly what was happening, it was the same as always with him. Enraged, dripping with self-loathing, and lost somewhere in that toxic mood somewhere between vicious and pitiful - looking for something to hurt, looking for a way to vent the pain as he paced like a snarling monster, muttering like he was arguing something with himself, a back and forth of accusations and desperate apologies to something no one else could see.

Tyreen couldn't eat him alive with her powers but she could do it with her words... and maybe that's what had changed. Maybe she'd realised a new way to control her twin with manipulations that left him so emasculated and damaged in confidence that he wanted to tear something he loved apart just so he could turn the hatred on himself after.

Of course it was going to be her.

The same dance every time now, the same frustrating steps that she'd memorised by this point, trying to break him out of his deadly spiral as he'd rant at rave at her, till he'd attack her somehow, then skulk into the shadows when he was done foaming at the mouth, leaving her to carry everything he'd piled onto her shoulders - the threats, the hate, the aggression, only to beg for her forgiveness the next day and be ignored.

He'd spend a week desperately apologising, showing how much he understood how pathetically wrong what he had done had been, sending ridiculous gifts to the mechanicum where he knew they'd have to be accepted under his sigil, reassure over and over in messages that it wouldn't happen again, that he'd just been under so much pressure, that he'd just snapped, that it wasn't right and she hadn't deserved it and how much her friendship mattered.

The E-Dev pinged one last time, and Seifa straightened, dusting off her overalls and adjusting the toolbelt slung around her waist.

God-King Calypso demanded a sacrifice - self harm masked as a blade he'd lash at someone he loved so it would cut him all the deeper. She'd take it, better her than someone else. She could handle him. 

She always had.

It was raining again, felt like that hadn't stopped at all this month. Pandora had wet seasons, it's just that the water never seemed to go anywhere. The acrid dust absorbed it almost as fast as it could fall, but in the city it flooded the streets as it rushed down gutters. Neon light reflected from gaudy signs in pools of colour that swam across the uneven paving stones as she slowly made her way towards the Cathedral, a waterproof canvas thrown around her shoulders protecting from the downpour.

Even at this time of night, the city was still alive. It never really stilled anymore, too many deals going down in alleys and money changing hands in clubs for it to ever actually sleep, and as she picked her way past huddled locals far too engrossed in their own business to pay her any mind, Seifa wondered when it was things had changed like this.

This place had been a shanty town, hadn't it? When she'd arrived to take over the engineering division there had been maybe one, two thousand COV followers camped around the cathedral in rickety shelters. Bandits mostly, erecting camps and functional living quarters with expertise alien to any outsider. It was a city now, fuck, it was a metropolis. She'd overseen the building of half of the major apartment systems in the inner ring around the holy quarter, so how did it still feel like it had grown of out nowhere?

Sei huffed out a steamy breath into the chill night air as the cathedral began to come into view, bass music and laughter fading as it was swallowed into the drumming of the rain on the buildings she left behind her.

She used to be so proud when she saw it, the awesome majesty of its twisted spires and jutting angles framed against the rocky outcrop that loomed behind it. Nowadays it just looked like something grotesque, a mirror of what it contained maybe. The COV was rotting from within, and everyone knew the source.

She'd been warned by friends more willing to face the harsh realities of the twin's decline that time was running out.

Tonight, tomorrow, a week from now, it didn't matter why it was going to happen, just that it would, and as much as she hated admitting it to anyone, Seifa knew she wasn't strong enough to do this much longer.

He was killing her.

Anything could set him off now, it was constant. Numbers under-performing this week, an underhanded comment from Tyreen that tipped the balance, not enough sleep, too many stims, not gaining weight, an article mocking his appearance, anything. It could have been any of them he had summoned, her, Ven, JK, the why or who was inconsequential because the desired outcome was always the same.

Troy wanted to hurt himself, not them, but he didn’t know how. The pressure would build and build till he broke down, lost logic, went wild-eyed and shaking in barely controlled rage. He hated being Troy Calypso so much there were times he wanted to tear his own skin off, he'd told her as much on nights alone and open in shared sadness, but there was no escape. It was this, or starving in a manner she couldn’t even comprehend, and when he'd asked before if maybe that would be the better option?

...She'd not known what to say. She'd failed him then, tripping over the words catching in her lungs as he desperately waited for an answer that would make sense of things, and she'd never been able to give one. Just sat next to him as they both sank deeper into the trap of their titles and the horrible reality that there was no clear way out.

He was waiting in the throne room for her, just like she'd imagined. Pacing back and forth across the dias as the city light streamed through the stained glass windows, glinting sharply off the rattling gold spines his ritual gear was decorated with as he moved.

She'd stood in silence, watching, trying to catch what he was asking himself as he'd snap a muttered retort in spite, but not able to ever make out the questions. Like an animal snared in gilded chains she figured, or something else maybe - an idol pretending to be something living? A shiver had ran through her as she waited for him to turn his frantic attention to her, quietly waiting for the blow to come. No one had even been there to greet her or open the doors to the throne room, they were ajar, the staff knowing better than to risk being in his presence when he was like this... she smirked, knowing better than her, anyway.

He'd shifted attention to her so smoothly it felt like the rant he'd been hissing to himself just continued directly into her as he'd turned, beckoning her closer with a quirk of those horrible claws. She'd bit her lip and swallowed down how much that enraged her, being summoned like a fucking dog when this man so often made clear he viewed himself as dirt in comparison to her, but months of dealing with him had tempered the reaction. Easier to go along with it, placate him, nod and let him vent out the bile till he realised how much of a fucking asshole he was and came crawling back later.

It was the same dance as usual, the exact same steps. She could feel where he was going with each shift in direction, jumping topic to topic in an attempt to place blame and becoming more enraged with each simple refute she could offer. She never made it easy, that wasn't her nature in the end, she'd calmly reply back to each accusation with logic that left him shaking harder as the fury built, like a caged predator or roid-mad Psycho desperate to attack but not getting the opening. She could play this game for hours, long enough to make sure he worked for the satisfaction, even if it left her exhausted.

She'd always been petty, after all.

He threw snarled jabs at Mechanicum performance, raised complaints that she knew weren't true, accused "concerns" about output she could disarm easily, the same as always, till suddenly he shifted.. and everything went wrong.

She could handle him with spines raised and teeth bared, she could stand unflinching as he aimed blows that he never really landed, but she hadn't been prepared for him to suddenly relax. He'd stood straight, rolling the weight of the prosthetic on a shoulder all casual and friendly like suddenly he wasn't seething under the grin his snarl melted into, and she'd felt a jolt of fear. This was something new, this was something... worse, she could feel it like electricity crackling up her spine, and for the first time that night her heart began to pick up a stuttered pounding as cool sweat beaded down her back. He took a step closer, and for just a second, there was a question flittering across the back of her mind that screamed something she couldn't ignore before it vanished into her practiced calm.

For a split second, Seifa questioned if this was Troy.

"You know, it's funny, Sei..."

She opened her mouth to warn him to stop, the atmosphere was at fever point, he was going to go too far, something in how terrified his eyes looked against he vicious curve of his smile sent panic through her chest.

"Troy" her voice cracked "Come on, Troy you know you shouldn't keep going, this is -"

He cut her off with a tsk and raise of a bladed finger, bending to lower his face closer to hers from where he towered above her.

"Rude Seifa, I was talking."

He was near enough to feel the body heat glowing from his chest, and her voice choked in her throat as the point of a talon tapped gently against her nose as if he was chiding some kid.

"Funny isn't it?" He cooed, and it wasn't.

"You used to have so much time for me, didn't you. We used to really spend time together..." the lack of his stutter was a warning she knew him too well to ignore.

"... but nowadays you're so desperate to get out of my presence that I can literally see your skin crawl while you're forced to be around me. It's happening right now Sei... ain't it."

That was a lie, and she wanted to slap his hand away from where it pointed towards her chest, push him back towards the throne behind him and tell him how stupid an attack that was. She's always had time for him, she gave him infinite time, she gave him so much of herself that she'd been crumbling, she wanted to tell him the truth of it, that how much she gave him had been killing her, but she couldn't, he didn't give her the chance.

"You've got allllll the energy in the world for your little friends though, don't you. You've got laughter and happiness to pour all over them, fill them up with, show them how much you care, but not me, not anymore. And you know, that's got me thinking recently!"

The smile was fake but the monster behind it wasn't. He may as well have been snarling, and she was fully aware he wasn't really attempting to hide that at all.

He stepped a fraction closer again, close enough for her to reach and press a warning hand against his chest as he leaned further down to meet her eyes, the veneer of his calm cracking under the weight of the now haggard, panting breathes he whistled through that vicious smile, the terror in his eyes. She didn't understand any of this, why was he so afraid when it was him pressing this onwards, why was he so panicked when the act was so calm? His skin was like fucking fire under her hand and the push she gave to try and move him back did nothing.

"Made me realise, maybe I was never your friend really - maybe I was just something you held onto like a lifeline in the storm of your shitty life choices, huh?" She felt tears rise, this wasn't fair, this was too real now, this was being aimed at his friend not his employee, but he wouldn't stop.

"Taken for a ride while you lead me on all these years. That would explain it, right? How much you got for them, how much you'll give them, when I'm just a burden to you. Or..."

His mouth was next to her ear and she wanted to beg him to stop before it was too late, before he did what she knew he was about to do. To stop before he decimated everything, but the words were caught behind the sob she refused to let spill as he drove the knife home with one last twist.

"Maybe the real problem here Seifa, is they are more than friends, hmm? Because that's your real operation method, isn't it. That's how you get what you want, everyone knows it. Maybe they met your standards, but you just never saw me as good enough to fuck."

The crack of his jaw against her fist echoed through the stone throne room for long enough to make the silence that came after all the more horrible.

She remembers that, that noise and the pain ripping through her hand in burning waves, but she doesn't really remember the rest. 

She doesn't fully remember what she saw, the flash of those glaring, monstrous eyes that burned down on them both as Troy reeled in horrified shock, cradling his face in confusion like he couldn't understand why she'd just hit him, she doesn't remember the flicker of Siren wings or the laughter that echoed somewhere in the back of her mind but made no sound.

It's a daze. Whatever he whispered pleadingly after, teary-eyed and shaking, she didn't hear.

She doesn't remember leaving and how she stormed down the Cathedral halls and into the freezing night air, doesn't remember who saw her or if clergy had been there. Doesn't remember the way she'd mindlessly picked towards the hi-rise Ven's quarters were in before realising she was walking the wrong way, or how effortlessly she'd flipped the ignition in her ship, or how prepped she'd been to jump out of Pandora's orbit soon as she hit safe distance, doesn't remember any of it.

But the pain in her hand and the look in his eyes after, she fucking remembers that.

[haileygarciasunshine]

Far From Home

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,440

Warning: Swearing

Summary: The reader is assigned to go with Peter on his trip to Italy.

Peter Parker Masterlist

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A/N: Part of my 100 New Followers Celebration!

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Posted: October 11th, 2020

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Might make a part Two?

"Y/N, I need you to go to Italy with Parker." Letting out a frustrated sigh, Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. "I would let him know, if he'd quit ghosting me!"

Everyone in the room, let out a silent laugh careful not to get in trouble with Nick.

"On it." You spoke, standing up, heading to the exit.

"Oh and Y/L/N?" Nick spoke. "Not a word of this to Parker, until I can tell him."

"Of course." You nodded.

"Y/N!" Maria called, jogging to catch up to you.

"Hey, Maria." You greeted, nodding at her.

"So you and Peter, huh?" She questioned with a smirk.

Letting out a groan, you rolled your eyes. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"Because the both of you are practically conjoined at the hip." She bumped yours for emphasis.

"No we're not!"

Maria rolled her eyes in return. "Come on, lets' get you packed. You're leaving tomorrow."

                                                         ___

"Y/N!" Peter yelled, as you were dragged into the water by the monster.

Peter's voice was the only thing on your mind, as you seemed to get pulled farther and farther below the depth of the water. The monster was strangely stronger than you thought possible.

Before long, something shot into the water causing the monster to disappear. Swimming as fast as you could, you were met with Peter grabbing your hand, yanking you above water.

"What were you thinking?" Peter hissed from beside you.

Still gasping for air, you shot him a glare.

"What? It's an honest question. Why would you do that?"

"Because." You gasped out. "Couldn't let." You continued gasping. "The world needs." Gasp. "Peter Parker."

"That was stupid, Y/L/N." He never called you by your last name. "Even for me." Before you knew it, Peter was gone.

Groaning, you shook your head. Something was going on with Peter, but you weren't sure what.

"Y/N!" Ned and Betty called. "Are you okay?" "Here take my hand."

Taking Ned's hand, he and Betty pulled you out of the water. MJ was quickly in front of you. "Are you okay?" She asked worriedly.

"I'm okay, I'm okay." You reassured them, attempting to offer them a warm smile.

"Peter!" Betty yelled. "Where have you been! You missed the water monster that almost killed Y/N!"

"Yeah I saw it." Peter scoffed. "That was a stupid move, Y/L/N." Peter spat bitterly, not caring to let it go.

"Peter." "What's wrong with you!" "Your best friend almost got killed, and that's all you have to say?"

"It's okay guys." You spoke. "I'm...I'm gonna head back to the hotel. I'll catch up with you guys later." You muttered, leaving the group before anyone could protest.

As you rounded the corner, you were met with Nick and Maria. Their faces none too pleased.

"What the hell was that!" They both spoke in unison.

You shrugged. "I was just trying to help....Besides, the monster would've taken Peter, under water."

They groaned.

"The world needs, Spider-man, more than it needs me." You stated softly. "I...I made a promise to Tony. That I wouldn't let anything happen to him, if I could help it."

Maria, shot Nick a sympathetic gaze.

"I aint dealing with this shit." Nick stated, raising his hands. "I'll see you both at dinner."

"Come on, kid." Maria spoke. "Lets' get you cleaned up."

You nodded your head in agreement.

"Do you think we should invite Peter to dinner?" She questioned, smiling.

Sighing, you shook your head. "No. We should let him be." Your voice was filled with sorrow.

"Alright, then." She nodded. "You'll get to officially meet Quentin Beck."

Raising an eyebrow you gazed at her skeptically. "Is there a reason we are trusting this Beck?"

                                                  ___

It started to feel the more time you spent in Italy, the more monsters and villians you had to fight. The only team that was assembled while there, was you and Beck. You often, voted leaving Peter out of it, so he could enjoy his trip that he talked so much about.

Much like your two predecessors, you had gotten your power from the Infinity Stones. Wanda, got her powers from the Mind stone while you and Carol got yours from the Space stone. You were strong enough to take on the monsters alone, which most of the time Beck, let you do. However, you were quickly growing exhausted.

Rubbing your eyes, you groaned as you made your way down the stairs. It was an early meeting that Fury had called everyone to. While being exhausted and not watching where you were going, you ran into someone on the stairs.

"Hey watch-" Ned's familiar voice rang through your ears. "Y/N?"

Whipping your head towards his voice, you gazed at him with confusion. "Ned?"

"Where are you going so early? Should I wake Peter?"

"No!" You exclaimed, slightly panicking.

Ned raised his eyebrows and hands in surrender.

"S-Sorry." You huffed, rubbing your face. "It's...It's just, Peter wants to enjoy this trip."

"And you don't?"

"No. I mean, yes. I mean..." You groaned. "I don't know anymore."

"Is everything alright?" He questioned. His voice was filled with sincerity.

"Y-Yeah."

"Y/N."

"Fine." You huffed. Glancing at your watch you saw that you still had some time to kill. "I don't have long."

"Let's sit."

Sitting on one of the scattered benches in the hotel lobby, you debated venting to Ned.

"Come on, Y/N. I'm one of your best friends."

"It's just that Peter's been acting weird lately."

"He was worried about that water monster getting you."

Scoffing, you crossed your arms along your chest. "He has a funny way of showing it."

"No, I mean, even before the trip." You reminisced.

"I-He-" Ned let out a frustrated huff. The type of huff, you let out when you know more than you can tell someone.

"Ned." You raised an eyebrow. "You know something. What is it?"

"I...I can't tell you."

The small glimmer of hope that bubbled up, quickly popped letting the exhaustion set back in. "Right. Well I have to get going."

"Y/N?" Ned questioned.

Turning around, you gazed at him. "Yeah, Ned?"

"I...Just don't let Beck make you do all the work anymore alright? I'm worried about you."

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me." You fake smiled. "Keep Parker, in line for me will ya? Make sure he gets that kiss with MJ."

"Y/N-"

Not letting Ned finish his sentence, you were already out the door.

                                                    ___

Groaning, you exited the car Maria had picked you up in.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Maria asked filled with concern. "I...I can take you to a hospital?"

"No, I'll be alright." You offered a weak smile. "It's just a few scratches."

Limping through the hotel lobby, it felt like your whole body was on fire. You had taken harsh hits, this time around with Beck nowhere in sight. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, it felt like they grew by more than hundreds of steps. Sighing, you glanced at the elevator that had a not in service sign on it. After, what felt like hours, you were finally at the top. Letting out a determined huff, you limped over to your room.

Opening your door, you let out a shriek of surprise before you quickly covered your eyes.

"Y/N!" "Holy shit."

"Uh...Here." Ned quickly came in front of you, pulling one of your hands down allowing him to place his room key in your hand. "P-Peter's out. You can use my room."

Not bothering to respond, you rapidly left before racing as best as you could to Ned's room. Opening the door, you were met with a semi dark room. The TV screen being the only illumination. Shrugging, you figured Ned forgot to turn it off before he left. Leaning against the door, you closed your eyes. You wanted nothing more than a hot shower and sleep.

The sound of someone clearing their throat, along with the lights being switched on, caused you to jump.

"Peter?" You questioned, squinting at the sudden light. "W-What're you doing here?"

"Uh...It's my room?" Peter's voice came out much harsher than he intended. He didn't miss the flinch that came from you.

"Ned said you were out." You muttered. "I...I'm just gonna...Go." Turning around, you opened the door.

Peter's hand clasped around your wrist, preventing you from leaving.  "Stay."

"Are you sure?"  You asked, not daring to close the door. "You haven't wanted to be anywhere near me."

"I..."

"I'll stay. But on one condition."

"What's that?"

"We don't talk to each other."

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

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[c-c-cherry]

Brutta Nottata

Giorno is tired. Bruno is a good mom.

This is purely self-indulgent vent shit that I wrote. TLDR; Today was not fun, I feel like garbage, and I just want someone to wrap sad bb Giorno up in a blanket like a burrito because no one will do that for me. THUS! THIS FIC WAS BORN!

Word Count: 1865

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The moon shone in through the windows, illuminating the living room in a calming grey-ish light. The pitch-black skies littered with stars showed there would still be many hours until sunrise and the entire house was filled with a peaceful silence.

Giorno sat on the couch with his knees pulled up to his chest. His body felt exhausted but he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. It was as if his mind wanted his body to move, pumping adrenaline into his system and the calmness all around him only made him feel too fast for this world.

His body wanted to collapse, he was worried that if he stood up, he would fall and never come back up. His bones ached desperately for sleep, but his mind was running circles around him, only allowing him to sit begrudgingly and stare off into nothing.

He could feel his eyes getting drier and heavier by the second and he craved some kind of relief, but it felt as if they were being clamped open against his own will.

On day one, he didn’t pay any mind to it. On day two, he was slightly concerned. On day three, he felt anxiety kick in.

Now he didn’t know what day it was, and he could barely feel anything.

Giorno’s heart clenched for just a moment before he willed it away and continued sitting in chill neutrality. He had promised Mista that he would sleep tonight. Everyone--he had promised everyone that he would try. But he just couldn’t. He didn’t have the energy to try. Even so, he knew that failure was around the corner anyway.

Maybe he was just tired of trying.

Giorno tried and tried until his heart lost the battle and his spirit slipped away from him. He tried to be perfect, he tried to be what everyone wanted him to be, but now every time he closed his eyes, he could see nothing but his past mistakes.

The blonde blinked and felt how heavily his eyelids were. It felt like they could unhinge at any moment, leaving him nothing but an inhuman monster that could never close his eyes again.

Giorno in the day is extremely different compared to Giorno in the night.

Daytime was the time that things could get done. Day Giorno cooperated with his team. Day Giorno was charismatic and quick-witted. Day Giorno completed task after task and it wasn't a problem. Day Giorno was useful. Everyone loved Day Giorno.

Night Giorno thought too much. He sat in bed and thought about all of the things that he never had time to in the day. Night Giorno remembered his mother and step-father. Night Giorno wondered how many people he killed and how many hit lists he was at the top of. Night Giorno couldn’t do anything. Night Giorno was useless. He couldn’t even sleep properly.

It’s funny, he thought. His name was literally the definition of ‘day’. Maybe it was for a reason. Maybe this was always his fate. Maybe this was his sign that hope was useless by now.

He could hear a soft breeze hit the window, and Giorno felt the room light up in an eerie glow as the wind blew away the clouds that blocked the moon. Breathing in deeply, his words went with the wind.

I’m sorry…

He didn’t know who he was apologizing to. Maybe it was himself. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t perform such a ritual human duty. Maybe he was apologizing to the world for being such a good liar.

His room was worse to be in at night. Everything in it was screaming at him to go to bed but he was sickened at the thought of lying down and closing his eyes. It was something he desperately wanted but his brain would never allow. Not with all the thoughts and emotions swirling around in his head.

He thought about what could happen if he would just close his eyes. If he willed himself hard enough, he knew he could do it. But something was keeping him from doing it. Fear that he would never wake up? Fear that even if he did try, he would stay awake forever?

He didn’t know which one he feared more.

*

Lights didn’t come on downstairs, but Giorno quickly noticed the presence of someone else downstairs with him. Mista? Narancia? He honestly didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care about anything right now and it scared him.

Giorno made no motion to acknowledge Bucciarati as he entered the room slowly. Seeing the man in his pajamas and without barretts in his hair was rare and Giorno would have thought to laugh, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

“Giorno?”

Bucciarati looked around the room hesitantly, examining Giorno from top to bottom before softly calling out his name. What was it...sympathy? Disappointment? Giorno couldn’t tell, but even so, he felt a small surge of guilt flare up in his chest.

“Giorno…”

The blonde blinked again slowly, this time feeling the eyebags under his eyes move up and down with his eyelid. He must look disgusting right now. He was disgusting.

“You look exhausted,” Bucciarati said quietly. Giorno didn’t know if the man was genuinely concerned or angry. His tone was too quiet to tell, “Aren’t you tired, Giorno?”

He didn’t know how to answer so he slowly shook his head, his exhausted gaze not bothering to look in Bruno’s direction.

He could hear Bucciarati suck in a breath before walking over to the armchair and picking up the light grey blanket that lay draped across it. He made his way to the couch and sat next to the boy, who’s gaze still remained on the same spot on the wall.

Bucciarati really did feel for the kid. No matter how much he managed to hold himself up during the day, he knew that Giorno had struggled during the night before. Insomnia sucks; especially for someone as young as Giorno, but the fact that he put himself down because of it was even worse. It’s not like it was something he could control.

Bruno smiled in sympathy and draped the blanket carefully across him, careful to fully cover him from head to toe in the thin blanket of warmth.

He watched as the boy’s eyes widened ever-so-slightly in surprise and quietly jumped out of his thoughts, staring up at the older man in confusion.

When Giorno gave him that pained, glassy-eyed look, Bucciarati’s heart melted. His hair was tousled, his usual style crumpled and undone from running his hands through it too many times, his glassy eyes gave that far-away stare that someone gives when begging for sleep, and his eye bags were darker than normal. Giorno wasn’t just exhausted, he was completely mentally and physically depleted.

He looked like he could snap at any second.

Bucciarati stared into the blonde’s eyes and tried to find something besides his dull, emotionless gaze. A slight flicker of his eyes caught his attention, and he placed a comforting hand on Giorno’s shoulder, who seized up as if he had never been touched before. But he didn’t try to back away.

“Why didn’t you tell me it had gotten this bad again?” he asked quietly.

“I didn’t want to make you worry,” Giorno turned away, his voice thick with guilt. He was fine. He had been fine for months. It was as if the problem had never even existed.

Until it did again.

There was a silence that hung in the air until Giorno sighed shakily and pulled the blanket further over his head.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Giogio.”

Bucciarati was about to say something else when a small sniffle came from beside him. Frowning, he pulled the blanket off the blonde’s head and grew even more concerned when he didn’t try to turn away or fight back.

Giorno bit his lip as thick tears pooled in his eyes. He blinked and bit back a small sob as tears freely streamed down his face and dribbled onto his chin. He swore quietly when he felt a drop on his hand, but didn’t make any motion to stop it.

Bucciarati rarely saw Giorno cry, and usually, when he did, it was over a death of someone dear to him or something equally as serious. But the thought of the kid crying solely because he was too overwhelmed to keep himself together brought pain to his heart

Motherly instincts kicked in, and he wrapped the boy up in a tight hug, one hand on his back and the other one on the top of his head. The touch only made his tears accelerate and he struggled to swallow back another sob at Bucciarati held him close.

“It’s okay…” he whispered, rubbing his back soothingly as he felt a cry get muffled into his chest, “It’s fine, Giorno...you can let it out…”

The sound of Bucciarati’s voice only made Giorno cry harder, and the older man wrapped the blanket around him and leaned up against the end of the couch to give Giorno more room to lie down.

“-I’m--such a disappointment-” he sobbed quietly into Bruno’s pyjama shirt, “I-I promised Mista I’d sleep tonight--I promised you I’d keep it together-”

His voice shook as he explained his woes and Bucciarati ran his hands through his hair as he did.

“You don’t have to promise us anything, Giorno. You can’t make yourself fix things that you can’t control..” he reminded the blonde.

“I-I know-I’m just so-” he paused, taking in a breath, but didn’t finish his sentence. Bucciarati already knew what he was going to say. So tired. So overwhelmed. So exhausted.

Giorno cried for some time before it started to slow down. Bucciarati’s shirt was soaked with possibly months of pent-up emotion when Giorno’s tears finally ran out. The blonde still compulsively sniffled with every other breath, but Bucciarati assumed that this was the last of the waterworks for now.

“Sorry,” he heard Giorno sniffle. He looked up at Bucciarati and he noticed how puffy his eyes had gotten. His eyes were red and still a bit teary-eyed, but the emotion was back in them. That was a start.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me...I just couldn't…”

“It sounds to me like you needed a cry, didn’t you?” Bucciarati replied, watching as Giorno’s face heated up. The blanket was still wrapped around him and Bruno smiled when he noticed that his eyes were growing wearier by the second.

“You’re not telling the others about this...are you?” he asked quietly. Bucciarati shook his head. Giorno mumbled something that sounded like ‘good’, but Bucciarati could barely hear him.

They both sat there in silence. The room slowly darkened as clouds covered the moon once again. As soon as Giorno was breathing steadily again, Bucciarati opened his mouth to say something, but peeked down at him first. Pulling back the blanket slowly, Giorno’s eyes were closed and his breathing was even and slow. As it should be.

Bucciarati smiled and carefully moved wisps of blonde hair out of his face.

Buona Notte, Giorno.