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scyllas-revenge · 1 year

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Leap of Faith

aka an Only One Bed headcanon with no context whatsoever

because this popped into my head and I wanted to be able to write and finish something for once god damn it. @the-girl-with-the-algebra-book this is for you 🥰

Legolas/Human Reader (gender-neutral)

Word count: 663

Rating: G

Read on AO3

New!! There’s a part 2 here!

Legolas is instantly flustered at the sight of the single bed, his eyes darting between you and the pillows and back again. Despite himself, he’s half-contemplating diving out the window to freedom—but at the look on your face, he forces himself to take a shuddering breath.

You’re more than happy to share the bed, you reassure him: there’s plenty of room, and you’re a heavy sleeper, so he won’t disturb you. But he rejects the offer smoothly. Elves do not sleep like mortals, of course, and he need not lie down to find his rest as you do.

For the first time, he regrets it.

Legolas is a gentleman: he turns away quickly as you slip out of your traveling clothes and boots and slide under the covers, but the rustling of your garments and slide of fabric against your skin is so loud in the silence of the little bedroom, so intimate, that his heartbeat lurches in his chest. By the time he risks a glance back at you, you’re buried in blankets and pillows, looking more at peace than he’s ever seen you.

And now there is nothing to do but wait for dawn.

He pours water over the coals in the fireplace as your breathing evens out in sleep. He paces quietly. He sighs. Time slips by, and his eyes dart to you more and more often.

He’s curious. That’s what he tells himself, anyway. Legolas has so rarely been around mortals, and the way they sleep is fascinating. You’re deeply, wholeheartedly asleep—no wide-open staring eyes, no mind still active and wandering, elf-like.

He’s curious. Your chest rises and falls under the blankets, your breaths even, calm. In through the nose, with the slightest snore, then out through the mouth in a warm puff. He finds himself stepping closer to the bed, transfixed.

He’s curious. That’s all. His elven eyes can make out the darting of your pupils beneath their lids, the slight parting of your lips. He leans closer, unconsciously. Perhaps you’re dreaming—and he hopes, with a sudden jolt, that you’re dreaming of him. And as though in answer, your lashes flutter restlessly, a single word escaping your parted lips: “Legolas.”

Oh, fine. He’s far more than just curious.

Legolas is perched on the bed beside you before he is aware of it, his heart in his throat. Perhaps it meant nothing—very likely it meant nothing, for rarely was there sense to be found in mortal dreams. He should move away, and stop staring longingly at your sleeping form. You would hardly appreciate it if you knew.

Or would you? You had invited him to share the bed with you, after all.

Thoroughly defeated, Legolas slips under the covers to join you. Even in sleep, you’re enough to overpower him. And even in sleep, you turn toward him, clutching at his torso and pressing yourself close. His breath hitches.

Your hands clutch tight to his tunic as you nuzzle into his side, and Legolas curls against you, your legs tangling together. A shudder runs through his body.

He breathes in and out as evenly as he can, in imitation of you, and closes his eyes against the pillows, just as you did. Perhaps he can sleep as you do, just this once, so he can survive this overwhelming closeness. Keep his eyes shut tight and his mind closed off from the world, so he can outlast it.

It frightens him for a moment—the uncertainty of his tight-shut eyes, the lack of awareness of the wider world. How odd this mortal sleep is. It feels like a leap of faith. But your breath is warm and even against his neck, your hair soft as it splays against the exposed skin of his neck and collarbone, and his heartbeat slows, sleep—true sleep—stealing over him at last.

This leap is an easy one to take, for he has faith in you utterly.

#legolas #lotr fanfic #legolas x reader #only one bed #oh god i've written in the present tense for real this time #what have i done #this started out as bullet points BULLET POINTS at least i've polished it a bit more than that

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oblonger · 13 days

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@sincerely-sofie I will try and make some more Shadow Virus or Body Swap AU chapters after this one. I promise. (Unless I have another good idea lol)

Grovyle is Tired

Keeping track of infinity is pretty difficult when the most formative years of your life were defined by finite things.

Grovyle walked through the ever-shifting, halls of the space between time. Yawning so hard that it made him feel light-headed.

Grovyle pulled out his notes from the satchel he wore. And yawned again. He irately pulled out a chesto berry to eat as well.

He stared at the notes while taking bites out of the berry. His vision was blurred from sleepiness, but it quickly dissipated as he took more bites of the disgusting, overripe fruit.

Ugh, he remembered a time when those were his favorites. But now he felt like puking whenever he even thought of the taste.

Still better than Lum berries.

He briefly reminisced of a time when his notes were much more specific. Diving into excruciating detail of when and ‘where’ timelines were located. Taking note of every possible danger he might face.

Nowadays, it was just a few, hastily written bullet points.

He figured he didn't need to write down the ‘where’ of the timelines, he only messed up one other time. And that also led to another timeline being fixed, so whatever.

This timeline had something written down about an apocalypse that turns mortals into mindless monsters? He didn't really care that much. It's just another job.

It's not something Grovyle likes. Far from it. He hates it.

It's rotten work, but it needs to be done.

Grovyle yawned again as he approximated where the timeline was. His thoughts briefly shifted to wondering if he could take a nap with how all the timelines in danger of crumbling have a while before he needed to fix them.

The passage between times opened. Grovyle stepped in, briefly thinking of sleep and of how Twig would take naps near him. Back when he wasn't a legend.

*********

Grovyle stepped out. Late at night. His eyes took a moment to adjust.

He's standing near the entrance to Sharpedo Bluff. Right on the edge of Treasure Town.

But, things weren't what he expected. The town looked a lot bigger than what he would have expected from a timeline plunged into an apocalypse.

The passage closed behind him. The lack of a light source from it lent better to his vision.

In fact, from this far away, he could see lights in some of the windows.

He'd learned a long time ago to never assume anything, but seeing Treasure Town in a similar state to how it was when he left his original timeline, in a timeline that had supposedly been ruined beyond repair…

It didn't make any sense-

“Clover?” A soft, shaking voice asked behind him.

Grovyle's heart leapt in his chest. He spun around and was face-to-face with a mega Charizard.

Why was she mega evolved? Was she wanting to fight him? Why was her tail flame a dark maroon color? Were those spikes around her neck?

… Why were there tears in her eyes?

“Clover? Is- is that really you?” She asked. Her voice shaking, tears started streaming down her face.

Ah.

He'd recognize her voice anywhere.

This is Twig. Or someone with Twig's voice at least.

Why did she look like this?

… On second thought that's not any of his business.

“Look. I'm-”

Grovyle barely got started when she bolted forward and wrapped him in a tight hug.

“Oh Arceus! I've missed you so much!" She sobbed.

Grovyle stood there for a moment, letting her hug him. Before he pushed her away.

Grovyle stared at the ground, even though he knew the way she was looking at him.

“Clover?”

Grovyle folded his arms and sighed. “I hate explaining this.” He muttered under his breath.

He looked at her.

“Twig, right?” He asked.

She blinked in surprise. Then nodded.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Right. Of course you are.” He whispered under his breath.

He hated how she flinched. Grovyle looked back up. Sighing deeply.

“Look. I'm not your C- Grovyle. I'm from a different timeline.”

Twig pulled her head back in surprise. “But. Celebi told me that she can't move people to and from different timelines.”

Grovyle huffed. “I’m an exception.”

Twig's eyes widened. The two stared at each other for several seconds. Grovyle then sighed, and turned so his side faced her.

“Now with that out of the way, I realize that I came to the wrong timeline. So leave me alone for about ten minutes to recharge, then I can leave and you'll never have to see me again.”

The two stood in silence. A growing sense of worry rose in Grovyle's chest the longer he looked at Twig's expression through the corner of his eye.

Eventually, he looked at her. “Do you have any questions?”

Twig pursed her lips. “Did you-... Did you kill your Celebi?”

Grovyle flinched so hard he stumbled backwards. “How did you- Did Celebi tell you? ” He breathlessly asked.

Twig closed her eyes, a few tears escaping, and shook her head.

“No. I just- I figured it out myself, just now.”

Grovyle stared at her like she had just grown a second head, before his brow furrowed. “Why on earth would you assume something like that about me?” He growled.

Twig paused for a moment, then huffed. She lifted her arms and motioned to herself. “Have you ever heard of a legend named Darkrai?” She asked.

Grovyle's eyes widened as he pieced together what had happened to her. His vision fell to the ground.

“Oh.” He voiced.

The two stood in an awkward, mournful silence.

“Do you… Do you want to talk about it?” Twig asked.

Grovyle pursed his lip. “Not really, no.” He responded.

Twig stood there and stared at him. “Then… Do you just want to like, hang out?” She asked. Her voice shook slightly.

“No.” He said. Turning around so his back was facing her.

Twig's breath caught on itself briefly. Sending a pang of guilt through Grovyle.

“Clover. Please. I-”

“Can you stop calling me Clover?! I'm not Clover!” He snapped.

Twig paused for a moment. “Right. Sorry…It's just-” She hyperventilated. “It's been so long since I've seen you- um, Clover. That I- I just-.” She choked up on her tears and couldn't finish.

Grovyle bit down on the inside of lip. Then sighed.

Curiosity got the better of him.

“How long has it been since you've seen him?” He asked.

Twig took in a shaky breath. “I think like, a hundred years?”

Grovyle pinched down on his arm.

“I'm sorry.” He said gently.

Twig sighed. “It's okay. I'm sorry for assuming you were him.”

Grovyle felt a bitter anger well up inside him. Not unfamiliar, but different from what has been driving him for so long.

The two went back to standing in silence. One that he was more uncomfortable with the more time that passed between them.

Grovyle's arms dropped to his side, and he sighed. Then walked past Twig to the entrance of Sharpedo Bluff.

He turned back to look at her after stepping down a stair. “Are you coming?” He asked.

Twig flinched a bit. “I thought… I thought you didn't want to talk to me?” She asked innocently.

Grovyle bit down on the inside of his lip again.

“Frankly I don't really want to. But I need to wait to recharge so I can open another passage between times. Not a whole lot else I can do…”

Twig stared at him, and then nodded. Following him inside.

*********

Gosh, when was the last time she'd cleaned in here? It was a mess of old decorations and mystery dungeon gear. He could see dust gathered on just about everything, save for the couch cushions, and a clean path, one that was noticeably smoother than the rest of the floor, in straight lines between the couch, kitchen and exit.

“Sorry it's such a mess. I haven't had guests for a while.”

Grovyle looked at her. “Why? Aren't you friends with Celebi?”

Twig shook her head and forced a smile. “Oh no! We are friends! I just, visit her, and not have her visit me. You know?”

The two stared at each other for a moment.

“Uh-” Twig started. “Why don't you have a seat? I'll go make us some tea.” She briskly trudged into the kitchen.

Grovyle slowly walked towards the couch. Looking through the various piles of stuff strewn about. Some corners had pots of dirt that were so dehydrated, that no weeds were growing from them. Even in Grovyle's presence.

He sat down on one end of the couch and was startled by just how far he sunk down. It had a noticeable dip near the middle seats, but he didn't think it would sink down this far.

How many years has she been sleeping on this thing?

Wait, if she took on Darkrai's powers, then she can't sleep.

If that's the case then does she just, lay on it?

Grovyle glanced around in silence as he could hear the clattering of dishes in the other room. He spotted a glass frame with several lunar feathers inside. He counted four. Maybe five?

He sat on the couch and waited for several seconds. Tension grew with each moment as he thought about just how much time he was wasting by being here.

He repeatedly tapped a claw against the armrest.

He'd experienced a small eternity before, but this felt even longer.

Eventually, Twig stepped out from the kitchen.

“Sorry it took so long! I had to clean the dust off the kettle… and the cups and tea leaves. You don't mind Oran leaf tea right?”

Dust on the leaves??? Well now he doesn't want to take it.

“I don't mind.” He responded. She nodded and handed him his cup as she sat down on the opposite side of the couch. The wood inside it creaked in such a way that he was worried it would fall apart.

The two sat there and sipped on their tea in silence.

Well the tea was better than that berry he ate.

Not much better, it still tasted awful, but it didn't make him want to vomit so that's a positive.

They finished their drinks.

And then continued sitting in silence.

Deafening silence.

The only sounds being their breathing, and the distant crashing of waves on Sharpedo Bluff.

Grovyle glanced over at her multiple times.

He wasn't sure what her expression was.

The silence continued. Dragging on and on.

Were it not for the occasional crackling of Twig's tail flame, and the rhythm-less sound of waves outside, he would have assumed they were somehow put in a loop.

Grovyle's thoughts start to run in their own loop. Thoughts of how this won't amount to anything. How doing this is so much less important than going and helping other timelines get fixed.

“So… Uh… You wanted to talk?” Twig finally broke the silence. Her eyes continued to stay locked to the floor.

Grovyle sighed. Right.

“I'm sorry for getting angry at you.” Grovyle responded, then paused. Deliberating over what to say next. “I… know how you feel.”

Twig huffed. “Right… How long has it been? Since, uh. You know…”

Grovyle rubbed his eyes. That Chesto berry was starting to wear off.

“I dunno.” He mumbled. “A couple of centuries at least. I think. Too long.”

Twig sadly hummed in acknowledgement.

The silence fell between them again.

It was starting to get infuriating.

Like, what is he supposed to say!? He hated it. It's been so ridiculously long since he's talked to anyone, much less any Twigs, like this that he didn't even know if he could talk to her.

Should he be talking to her? It's not like he can fix her. His whole thing is fixing timelines. Not other people's problems.

Then what about other you's that were about to commit to what you did?

Grovyle killed the thought. That wasn't just his problem. It would be everyone’s. That's an exception.

Grovyle's thoughts swirled in spirals. It's a good reason.

“So… um…” Twig voiced. Grovyle glanced at her. Her lips pursed, brows furrowed, and her eyes looking in every direction except towards him.

Grovyle waited for a few seconds then sighed. “Say it.” He grumbled.

Twig paused for a moment. “What's it like? Looking ahead in the timeline I mean.”

Grovyle shot her an angry look, one he was hoping she was looking away for.

She wasn't. Their eyes locked. Her's widened.

Grovyle sighed and leaned back before she could apologize. He then began.

“It's… Hmm. It's like you're given a…”

He pondered for a moment. Trying to think of a way to conceptualize this. He briefly thought of a Human Twig he had adopted once, and how she explained her math homework to him…

Until she grew up, and then…

A wretched feeling twisted in his gut. He pushed the thoughts away.

“Number line of sorts.” Twig looked at him with a strange sort of surprise.

“There aren't any kind of markings on it, but you can see yourself moving along it.” He continued. “But you can like, zoom into it. And then it branches out from that point, and you're given a list of things that can happen.”

He paused again. “I guess it's more like a combination of a sideways family tree and a list, than a number line.” He paused again. “What about you?”

Twig pulled back a bit. She forced a grin and raised her hands. “Oh, I never really tried to use my powers. Those lunar feathers Celebi gave me, meant I didn't need too! So, it's fine, really.”

Grovyle narrowed his eyes on her. He's met Darkrais from before they tried to end the world. He knows for a fact that what she's referring to is that nightmare aura.

So, it's fine, really.

He was thoroughly convinced at this point that Twig is a terrible liar in every timeline.

He was about to call her out on that when she hurriedly spoke.

“Well, if it shows you every possibility all at once? Doesn't that get super overwhelming?”

Grovyle shelved the thought. It's not like he was going to see this Twig again after this anyway. He was just waiting to leave.

“Well, not really.” He responded. Twig tilted her head in confusion.

“It's like… how to phrase this…” he mumbled. “Like, you pick a specific thing to think about. Then you can see a list, I guess? Sorted from most likely to least likely. In other words, we only see the two or three most likely possibilities and their consequences at any point. Significant ones that split the timeline being 'highlighted' so to speak."

“Ohhh. Okay. That actually makes a lot of sense…” Twig's somewhat satisfied expression fell. “So is that how it works for you?”

Grovyle nodded. “Not the first time. But yeah. It is.”

Twig flinched a bit. “What… What was it like the first time?”

Grovyle shrugged. He leaned back in his seat and folded a leg, to rest his foot on his knee. He stared at the wall to his side.

“I didn't know about all that stuff about lists and branching timelines and stuff. Turns out that's more of a rule that Celebis’ follow than how it works. So the first time I did it, I saw everything.” He casually mentioned.

“... wwwhat was it about?” Twig asked.

Grovyle sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “I wanted to see what would happen to my Twig. So I tried looking ahead. I watched her live long, fulfilling lives, and die peacefully in her sleep. And watched her die from a random heart attack milliseconds from when I did that. I watched her die countless times in countless ways. All in the span of a few seconds.” Grovyle stopped for a moment and took in a breath. Twig was silent.

Grovyle shrugged again. “Obviously I'm okay now. In fact, it's better that I did that since I do it all the time now. It's a whole lot faster than cherry picking which branches to look down. I got used to the flood of information. So, yeah. It's fine, really.”

The silence returned. Grovyle continued staring at the wall as his skin started to prickle.

The tension felt absurd. Why was the air so heavy?

“Twig?” Grovyle asked. He turned his head to face her. “Are you oka-”

He stopped when he saw her face. Her eyes wide, and her mouth hung open in complete and utter horror. Tears silently ran down her face and fell onto the couch.

Twig stood up off the couch and stepped towards him, and then wrapped Grovyle in a tight hug, as she repeatedly took in shaky breaths.

He then realized he just told her what he'd never told anyone before.

Grovyle felt wrath rising in his chest

He tried to push her away. Her arms tightened.

“Twig!? What are you doing!? Let me go! I need to leave!” He demanded.

He kept trying to push her away. He even tried using his legs. It didn't work. She was shockingly strong.

Grovyle stopped struggling after nearly a minute of this.

“Twig?” He asked.

“I'm so sorry that happened to you.” Twig sobbed.

Grovyle felt a bolt of shock run through his heart.

To hear her say what he knew the Celebi would say if he told them. He dreaded hearing them say it.

But her?

Twigs arms wrapped tighter.

“W-what happened to you wasn't okay.” She choked out.

Grovyle froze. Then he returned her hug.

It felt so nice.

He was finally hugging Twig again.

What happened wasn't okay.

The phrase repeated itself in his mind over and over.

He was barely holding back tears.

It wasn't okay.

And then the tears started running down his face.

Grovyle was choking back his sobbing. He would allow tears. But not sobbing. He won't cry like that in front of her.

It wasn't okay.

It's not okay.

None of what happened, should have happened to you.

A sob escaped Grovyle's mouth.

You're not okay.

In an instant, all of the walls Grovyle had standing for hundreds of years came crashing down.

Then he sobbed some more.

And then he sobbed and wept and wailed and screamed.

That ugly, bloody viscera that had been pulsing, filling him with a dull ache for so long had just been torn out of his chest for her to see.

And despite that, she was holding him in her arms like a crying child.

The way he would comfort the abandoned Twigs he used to search for.

He clutched at her. Pulling her closer to him crying even harder at the thought.

He cried for hours. Releasing centuries of pent up sorrow out for her to hear.

You're not okay.

But, maybe you will be.

*********

Grovyle's eyes stung badly as he tried to open them. The sun shining across his eyes was what woke him up. His stomach ached with sharp pain.

The memories of what happened last night returned as he pushed himself into sitting upright. Groaning at the effort it takes. His entire body has never felt so heavy.

He barely remembers anything after crying for so long. Did he pass out?

“Hungry?”

He glanced up to see Twig holding a plate of food. Smiling at him.

Grovyle pursed his lips, tears once again filling in his eyes as he nodded.

Tears silently ran down his face as he ravenously ate this, his second, and his third servings of this food. He didn't know what was in it, but it tasted greater than anything he could imagine.

He almost started sobbing again when he realized he truly did forget just how good real food can be. Not that grimy food or the chesto berries or the occasional apples.

Real, genuine, cooked food.

Twig began talking after he finally told her that he wasn't hungry anymore.

“Gosh Grovyle. When was the last time you ate or slept? You've slept for an entire day.”

Grovyle tilted his head, and glanced backwards into the timeline.

It was morning, but the day after. He'd slept for nearly twenty-seven hours straight.

Grovyle weakly chuckled. “I dunno. I've been going this long just by eating Chesto berries.”

He tried to chuckle again, and it sounded like it was mixed with a sob.

He glanced around to avoid Twig's gaze, and saw that most of the clutter in the room was missing. It was far from perfect, but it actually looked like a living space now.

Twig sat down on the couch next to him. It creaked, but didn't seem like it would give up the ghost just yet.

The two sat in silence for several minutes.

This time, he didn't want to leave. It wasn't uncomfortable. He wanted to stay here forever…

But he had work that needed to be done.

“Twig.” He started.

“I know.” She responded. “I wish you could stay here too.”

He pursed his lips again. That wasn't what he was going to say. But it was what he wanted to say.

She gently pulled him towards her, and he leaned towards her. Resting his body on hers. She slowly rubbed her hand in circles between his shoulder blades.

“I'm going to miss you Grovyle.” She broke the silence eventually.

He glanced up at her eyes, then looked at the ground.

A few tears escaped his eyes as he choked out; “Can you… Can you call me Clover?”

Twig leaned towards him and pulled him into a hug. “Of course I can, Clover.” She responded.

He hugged her back, and they stayed like that for a few minutes.

Clover eventually spoke. “I'll miss you Twig.”

Twig sighed. “I will miss you too, Clover. Promise you will come and visit me?”

Clover pulled her in tighter. Tears fell down their faces.

“I promise.”

#pmd eos #text post #mortality exchange au #fanfic #pmd2 #i also took a bit of liberty with the implied mechanics of the timelines.#fanfic of a fanfic #pokemon #the present is a gift au #writing #pmd #where they dont split at every possibility. since that would mean that there would be infinite L!Grovyle's running around #And how he doesnt accidentally create more by simply existing.#Only ones that cause a significant difference in the course of history. mainly deaths and births #didnt know how to make it come out naturally. But his real name /is/ Clover. this is the same Grovyle from all the other ones.#I mostly think of it this way because its really hard to come up with a satisfying answer for why there is only one L!Grovyle

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