#for the fact that I’m always willing to consider that I was wrong | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xaviers-star-tassel · 2 months

Text

⭐️ silent cry

✦ pairing: xavier / gn!reader

✦ genre: hurt to comfort

✦ warnings: probably badly written breakdown, feeling of emptiness and loneliness

✦ word count: 1.6k words

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ: there was never no need to hide your tears and feelings behind a fake smile. not when he was always there for you

⋆˙ ✦ note: as a huge stay and a silent cry lover, i couldn’t help myself but write this. this was probably the most fun i had while writing, though adding the lyrics into the story was harder than anticipated. stan stray kids y’all!! not proofread!

you had never been one to burden others with your feelings. perhaps it was that loud voice in your mind that kept on shouting to not annoy others around you, or just the fact that concerning people close to you filled you with guilt. you’ve always been told you were strong, and strong people don’t cry, right?

oh, how wrong everyone was. nobody knew that behind the smile you wore, behind every “i’m okay” you uttered, your poor heart was sobbing loudly. you dared not to show your vulnerability to anyone, not even the ones you considered friends, or even family. to be seen as disappointment was burdening your chest like an anvil.

that happy mask you always wore, simply to make others happy, seemed to shatter the moment you stepped foot in your dark room. the mental heaviness of your body and thoughts left you only sighing into the darkness, your frame harshly hitting the mattress. there was no joy in your eyes. you, who used to smile brightly, felt like you were slowly dying.

no one knew, yet a part of you felt glad. they didn’t deserve to be burdened by your troubles. even if no other person was there to listen to your nightly sobs and cries, you had made peace with that. for all you know, it was meant to be this way.

so there you were. in your room, dimly lit with the light radiating from your desk lamp, silently bawling your eyes out. your head laid on the pillow, the material of the sheet stained by the salty droplets of your tears. you weren’t aware of how long you had been crying, or why you even felt like it. it just happened, and there was no way to stop it. no matter how hard you tried, how much you tried to hold the tears in, it only made you cry more and harder.

your eyes burned, head was throbbing like it was repeatedly hit by a hard piece of metal. you could barely see the outlines of the furniture with how blurry your eyesight was. you wish you could just turn it off, to never feel again. or… to have someone you could cry to. but there wasn’t a person like that.

no one knew how you felt. at least, that was what you thought. one person knew all too well.

xavier was painfully aware of the pain in your eyes. the exhaustion behind your every smile. you were like a body without a soul, your gaze dull and almost empty. he wasn’t someone to notice other people’s feelings, moreover, he didn’t particularly care about the others.

but you weren’t just other person for him. you were special. he wanted to be your support, the shoulder to cry on. he was willing to be of help to you, no matter what would make you happy. truly happy.

yet you never approached him, and xavier couldn’t understand why. wouldn’t it be easier for you to let go of everything you held in? he would listen to your silent cry, that much was something he made clear to himself. your happiness was the most important thing to him, so why wasn’t it yours?

he was standing by your door, trying to listen to any sound coming from behind them. but your apartment was eerily quiet, as if you weren’t even there. but he knew better. he knew you were inside, suffering on your own.

as you laid on your bed, aggressively wiping the uncontrollable tears flowing down your cheeks, a knock erupted through the space of your abode. in panic, you jumped up, running to the bathroom to look at yourself.

the sight wasn’t pretty, it was anything but. your eyes were red, your hair a mess and face fully wet from tears. just the sight of yourself made you tear up even more. you bowed your head down, splashing handfuls of ice cold water on your face.

once you dried your face, you stumbled toward the door, possibly knocking something in the process. your hand made contact with the handle, and with a last deep breath, you swung the door open to reveal xavier.

“xavier! what are you doing here?” you mustered up the energy to smile brightly, hoping he would look over the red rim around your eyes.

you glanced down to notice a small box in his hand, and you immediately knew it were the macarons you liked the most. it was the packaging of it that gave away the content, and it made your heart flutter with genuine joy. even though it was a sparkle, it was enough.

“can i come in?” xavier asked with his usual calm tone.

the question surprised you, but you let him in anyway. with how dark your apartment was, his step to your room was careful, mindful of his surroundings. you quietly followed behind him, silently wishing he would explain his visit.

once you stood by your bed, xavier placed the box on the nightstand, right under the lit lamp before facing you. that was when you noticed the knot in between his eyebrows, not very far from a frown.

before you could say anything, his hand grabbed onto yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. your gaze fell down to your intertwined hands, then back at him. your eyes were round in surprise, and you barely bit back a gasp that threatened to fall from your mouth.

“why are you smiling when you don’t feel like it?” he whispered quietly, his free hand going up to cup your cheek.

he could feel the dried pathways of your tears beneath his palm. the cold water that you splashed your face with earlier didn’t get rid of the evidence of your tears fully, as it appeared. the pad of his thumb grazed ever so gently against your skin, drawing soothing circles over your cheekbone.

“what are you talking about? i’m okay,” you lied with a smile, though you could feel the tears prickling behind your eyelids.

“you always say that, but i can see how your heart sobs,” xavier’s voice was but a mere whisper as he drew you closer.

the forced smile began slowly faltering from your lips, and it was soon replaced by a quiver. without even realizing, a sob rippled through you, making it hard for you to hide your tears. one by one, like pearls falling from a torn necklace, tear droplets ran down your face. you couldn’t continue pretending to be alright, not when xavier was around.

a wave of relief washed over the man standing in front of you. he smiled softly as he engulfed you in a warm embrace, letting your tears stain his sweater. he didn’t mind. at least you weren’t alone in this, you had him now.

“don’t be the only one hurting,” he murmured into the crown of your head, earning a choked cry as a reply.

you tried to muster up a response, but nothing more than a sob came out. xavier shushed you gently, wordlessly saying that words weren’t needed.

careful with his movements, he settled on your bed. back leaning against the headboard, his arms reached out to pull you down on his lap. you had no energy to fight against it, in fact, you didn’t even want to. his warmth was soothing, and somehow nostalgic.

xavier’s arms held you tightly, like you’d slip away from his grasp if he let go. you cried and cried, body trembling and tears falling. loud sobs and pained whimpers filled the room, the dark place of all your deep sorrows.

even in his arms, it still hurt. why did it all have to hurt so much? and what was it that hurt? you weren’t even sure anymore. you couldn’t even tell if you had a reason to cry at all. it all felt useless, and utterly pointless. it felt unfair that xavier had to deal with your feelings, wrong even. you should push him away, right? you were a deepspace hunter, his partner. you were meant to be strong…right?

just as you were about to pull away, still crying heavily, you felt xavier’s slender fingers on the back of your head, gently pushing your head onto his chest.

“lean on me. i won’t let you go,” he whispered close to your ear, his lips brushing against your temple as he planted a gentle kiss on it.

xavier sat there with you, not uttering a sound as you let every tear out. his left hand gently caressed your hair, untangling the knots with a gentle touch, while the other drew soothing patterns on your back. his sweater was pretty much soaked by the time you were done, but he couldn’t care less. his favorite piece of clothing meant nothing compared to your happiness.

“thank you,” you managed to whisper, your voice hoarse and almost gone.

“you don’t have to thank me,” he shook his head, looking into your still teary eyes. “i’ll listen to your silent cry. always.”

his lips touched your forehead, calloused hands cupping your cheeks. he softly brushed the tear trails away, keeping his gaze on you. his touch was gentle, comforting. this man, the one who killed wanderers without mercy, treated you with upmost love and care. as if every crevice of your body was made of the most fragile glass.

“when you lose strength, i’ll hold you. i’ll say ‘it’s okay’ to you. just don’t cry alone, not when i’m here. not when i’m near,” xavier said in a quiet tone, leaning your head down to let you rest on his shoulder.

the heat of his body completely relaxed your muscles, putting your mind at ease. his chest slowly rose and fell as he breathed calmly, lulling you to sleep. your eyes began to close, and within a moment, you were asleep.

xavier didn’t leave your side, he wouldn’t dare. he stayed with you the whole night, occasionally waking up from his slumber to make sure you were sound asleep. as much as he valued his sleep, he valued you more.

he loved you more than anything.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfiction #l&ds #l&ds x reader #l&ds xavier #lads x reader #lads xavier #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace xavier #otome game #xavier fluff #xavier love and deepspace #xavier

261 notes · View notes

tripleyeeet · 5 months

Text

MY LOVE IS MINE, ALL MINE (15)

SUMMARY: Astarion insists that you rest.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 2,987

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of death and dissociation, a whole lot of fluff and comfort as an apology for all the angsty chapters. :^)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ha-ha, hey do people still care about this fic? (Sorry I went MIA, my brain got bad)

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST

It feels odd having Astarion around.

For days, his hands are almost always attached to you in some way. Gripping tightly onto your arm as he guides you out of the bed, drawing patterns into your back each night he quietly lays next to you —anything to make you feel like he’s some sort of extension of you. As if he’s another set of limbs there to help you heal.

It’s nice, at first. Comforting. And for a while, as you exhaustively lay amongst the sheets and pillows, tucked against the side of his torso, it helps you forget about the world around you. How just beyond this realm of soft looks and tender touches, there’s a war raging on, developing day by day as you tirelessly drift from bed to bath and back again, trying your best not to get too restless.

Which is easier some days than others.

For example, the first few felt like a breeze. Nothing more than a collection of hours that quickly whizzed by before you could even blink. With Astarion there to distract you, time seemed to slip from your grasp entirely. Exiting your mind in the form of lengthy naps spent latched onto your partner’s frame.

It was blissful. A much needed break from all the chaos but it was obvious it wouldn’t last. Nothing more than a blip in an otherwise more momentous event, you could feel the restlessness of the future seeping in. Taking hold of your mind, ripping through the cavernous well of missing information that occurred during your death. You couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. How the group managed without you —how Astarion managed.

Based on the lack of space given during the healing process, you assume badly. Considering he’s never touched you like this —like you’re the most fragile thing he’s ever placed his hands on as if at any moment one wrongful slip of his fingers might shatter you all over again— it’s apparent something within him changed. Shifting in a way that, even now, nearly a week later his presence is still stagnant.

And for the most part, it is nice. A welcomed change amongst all the bullshit. Having him there with you —seeing the lengths he’s willing to go to make sure that you’re safe is unparalleled to anything you’ve ever felt. A dream within a plague of nightmares lulling you to sleep each night he holds you close, telling you that everything’s fine. At least, until it isn’t. Then it feels like suffocation. Like his once-loving hands are now wrapped around your throat, reminding you of what little time you have left. Forcing you to realize that, instead of lying around living in ignorance of the task at hand, you should be helping —working alongside the rest of the party to complete your common goal.

“I need to move, Astarion,” you tell him. Almost angrily, you press your hands to either side of his face, narrowing your eyes, watching the way he rolls his own and frowns.

“Zamrie said—“

“Oh, my Gods, forget what Zamrie said!” Before he can even protest you’re on your feet and moving towards the door, ignoring the way he huffs in response. Blocking out the sounds of his angered protests as you begin to pull on your boots. “I swear, if I don’t get out of this room I’m going to go insane!”

Surprisingly, he doesn’t do anything other than try to talk you out of it. Relaying each point of criticism with facts to back up his claims, watching the way your face twists in annoyance the longer you realize he’s right.

Because despite mentally feeling alright aside from the lack of stimulus, you’re still exhausted. A feeling you hadn’t anticipated to take so long to recover from. Assuming you were under the hindrance of any other common illness, you figured you’d be back to normal in a few days tops. No longer feeling numb or shaky. But then again, you were dead. And for a while too, so unfortunately it makes sense as to why as you finish tying your first boot you’re already out of breath. Heavily panting against the warm air of the inn’s top floor as you glance to see Astarion’s smug look.

“You know I’m right,” he says, and all you do is awkwardly walk back to the bed with your boot still on, collapsing face-first into the mattress with a groan.

“I’m so bored.”

“And what do you want me to do about it?”

In response, you merely grumble, feeling him roll you over so that he can untie the laces of your shoe, kneeling at the edge of the bed for better access as you let out a huff, unsure what to say.

Because really, there aren’t very many options left. Already you’ve read every book your party has and then some thanks to Gale and his lengthy trip to Sorcerer’s Sundries, as well as exhausted all your conversation topics. At this point, there’s nothing left but card games and sleeping and Astarion frequently cheats which leaves you with the most boring option. The one you’d rather suffer through the pain of activity than submit to, prompting you to look at Astarion with pleading eyes, praying that just this once he’ll give in.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

You narrow your eyes and wiggle your foot as he eventually discards your boot, quickly moving to kick his face in annoyance only to have him catch it before you make contact.

“If you don’t stop I’ll cast hold person on you,” he threatens then, moving to grip your knee and pull you towards the edge of the bed. Smirking at the sound of you squealing in amusement at the sudden shift in position.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” you tease, but all he does is slowly maneuver himself above you, slotting his hips between your already spread legs. Ignoring the way your face contorts to showcase the sudden nerves that erupt.

“I would because then you’d actually rest.”

“But I am resting.”

“Hm, are you?”

“I’m laying down aren’t I?”

“That’s different than resting, my love.”

“Is it?”

Somehow he’s managed to distract you with conversation long enough for you not to notice he’s looming above you. Pressing his palms against the spaces next to your head —shifting the lower half of his body to lightly press against your own.

Upon noticing this, you swallow hard and try not to smile. Forcing down the anxiety of Astarion’s mischievous gaze exploring your features —taking in the obvious temptation that’s begun to surface.

“You don’t seem very tired,” he tells you. Teasing you in a way that has you rolling your eyes, allowing it to happen because, while you’ve exhausted a lot of options to entertain yourself, sex isn’t one of them. Considering the two of you have been too busy reuniting and making sure everything about your resurrection continued to go smoothly, the thought really hadn’t occurred to either of you.

Far too lost in the simple touches of each other’s company, up until now it felt more important just to coexist. To relax and monitor rather than jump into something that could only result in complications.

Which is a thought that sits at the back of your mind. Even as he leans down, nudging your nose with his —saying something flirtatious that you completely miss due to the passing thoughts that stroll through your head— you can’t help but wonder if it’s a good idea.

“Are you sure we—“

He cuts you off with a gentle kiss. One that lingers for a couple of seconds before it’s over and he’s grinning above you, moving to glide his thumb along your cheek. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.“

“No, I just —is it right?”

He scrunches up his face, looking at you in confusion. Making you realize how offensive your words probably sound. “Sorry, I don’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

You take a minute to put together your thoughts, ignoring the way he longs for your answer. Feeling him shift slightly backwards in anticipation of your inevitable rejection.

“Is this the right time to be doing this?”

He raises his brow and sort of laughs. “Do you mean that morally or?”

“Kind of?”

All you do is scoff in embarrassment, moving your hands to cover your face. “I just mean that… should we be having sex while the others are doing all the work?”

Astarion really laughs at that, his voice practically rising a full octave as he swats away your hands, watching your annoyance only increase at his actions. “Seriously? That’s what you’re concerned about?”

“I feel like it’s a valid concern.”

“Well, it’s not.”

“Okay but I think—”

He steals another kiss, ignoring the groan of protest that hits his lips. Opting to instead grab your cheek again, gliding his fingers against your skin. Feeling the way you almost immediately settle into his touch the moment he pulls away.

“Darling, you and I both know the other’s don’t give a shit what we do. So long as it’s somewhat legal and doesn’t disturb their sleep.”

Moving your hands to his torso, you practically sigh in defeat, pinching his hips with frustrated fingers as you lean up and kiss his chin. “I don’t know. I think Gale might be jealous if he comes back and sees us.”

As you fall back down he chases you instantly, enveloping your mouth in his a third time, knowing then that you’re surrendering. That instead of fighting the urge to make excuses, you’re allowing yourself to enjoy what he’s offering. To experience that connection without the added baggage of not knowing whether or not there’s feelings involved.

Because now that you’ve admitted it —now that both of you have said those three little words, it feels completely different. After travelling and talking and experiencing that unfortunate blip of separation there’s a whole other dynamic that takes place.

For example, somehow his touch is gentler. And not because of your current physical setbacks. No, there’s something tender about it. As if the care he has for you has extended from his heart to his palms, guiding them in ways that make your chest tighten with newfound anticipation. Against your flesh, his fingers are delicately placed, slipping to grip the back of your neck, sprawling out to cover as much surface area as possible.

Sighing into him, your thoughts wander to different positions. Imagining all of the ways the two of you might end up, you can feel your stomach twist with excitement. Your mouth curling up into an empty-minded smile, unaware of the joy that radiates between you. Too distracted by the happy sound he makes when you grip the waistline of his pants.

“Does this serve as a good enough distraction for your boredom?”

You hum and kiss him, eventually pulling back to nod. “Only if it’s okay.”

For a moment he pauses, his expression turning from playful to serious. His eyes softening at the weight of your words, realizing that you mean it. That for once in his life he’s in control of his own pleasure.

“I promise you, I wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t,” he eventually tells you, and all you do is beam. Moving your hands to his face, you look at him with affectionate pride, running your thumbs along the highpoint of his cheeks —pressing down as you pull him back to rest his forehead against yours.

“I love you so much,” you say, closing your eyes, hearing him softly hum in a way that rips the air right out of your lungs. Feeling the way he stiffens before he ultimately melts beneath your touch, allowing the full weight of his body to press against yours.

“You mean the world to me,” he responds, moving to kiss your cheek before moving to the other before you open your eyes again to see him hovering above. “When I lost you I—“

You don’t interrupt him. Instead, you just press your lips together and offer a nod, watching his mind work through the blockage.

“Losing you felt like losing hope. Like I was being shoved back into that blasted mausoleum all over again.” He pauses to swallow, watching you stare into his eyes, refusing to break the contact even though it’s obvious he wants to. “I don’t want to feel like that ever again. I can’t —I won’t.”

Your hands move towards his shoulders, slowly weaving their way around his neck to pull him close. To let him feel the pounding heart inside your chest and how its pace quickens because of him.

“I know it may seem like I’m ungrateful a lot of the time —that I’m brash or unkind but don’t think for a second I take for granted what you feel for me.” His lips press against yours for a second before they’re separate again. “I love you and I won’t let anything more happen to you.”

As soon as he finishes you can’t help but pull him against your chest, placing a kiss to the crown of his head before resting your chin on top of it. “Mm, you really have a way with words don’t you?”

All he does is chuckle. “I would hope so after all the mindless chatter I’ve done over the last two centuries.”

“I’m sure you’ve swept your fair share of feet with that beautiful voice of yours.”

He cranes his neck to look up at you. “My voice is pretty beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s like music to my ears, darling,” you tell him, partially mocking him as he scoffs in response and reaches for the nearest pillow to smother your already giggling face.

“Don’t mock me.”

Awkwardly moving to shove the pillow aside, you feel him shift against you as he sits up, grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them above your head. “Actually, you know what, I take back what I said —I actually hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

You scrunch up your face in fake annoyance as he leans down again, giving you a chastising look. “I do. So much so that I don’t want to have sex with you anymore.”

“Oh, really?”

While nodding your head, you try your best to get him to release your wrists but to no avail, eventually sighing in response. “Yeah, I’d rather take a bath instead, I think. Get you to wash my hair or something.”

Without even protesting he just kisses your nose and rises from the bed, readying the bath. Taking it upon himself to focus on the task at hand rather than your lingering eyes staring at his dishevelled hair and the way his clothes have shifted out of place thanks to your roaming hands. Something that shouldn’t annoy you but does as you crave his attention. Finding yourself wanting desperately to keep him connected any way you can.

Because despite knowing he’s here with you, sometimes he isn’t. Instead, sometimes he’s lost in far-off lands, travelling by himself in fear, trying desperately to get back. Behind his eyes, you can always tell when he’s absent because his eyes sort of shift out of focus, dismissing whatever’s directly in front of him in favour of relieving whatever awful memory’s been triggered.

It breaks your heart. Ultimately spurring you to stand and move behind, wrapping your arms around him as he finishes up the bath.

“C’mon, get it before it gets cold.”

Despite wanting to playfully protest, you listen. Taking a reluctant step back while releasing his frame, you slowly begin to peel off your clothes, feeling his fingertips reach for your stomach as you throw your tunic over your head.

“Can I help you?”

Looking down at his hand, you see his fingers draw patterns into your flesh. How they practically dance their way down to your waist before his other hand slips to the buttons of your trousers.

“Other way around.”

You look at him, confused, prompting him to laugh.

“Figured you could use a hand with these.” He tugs the button through the hole with one quick swipe, causing you to bite back a smirk and roll your eyes, allowing him to slowly drag the fabric down your legs. Watching as he moves to his knees along with it.

Once there, he motions for you to step out of each pant leg, discarding the fabric entirely. Grinning up at you once you’re left only in your underwear.

“Gods, you’re…” He doesn’t finish. Instead, he just kisses the inner portion of your thigh as he plays with the edge of the fabric, looking up at you with pleading eyes. The kind that you merely nod at, suddenly feeling nervous.

Because it’s been a while since he’s seen you like this. And even so, it continues to feel different. More intimate somehow as he moves at a leisurely pace, kissing your skin while exposing your sex. As it happens, you have to look away and take a breath, feeling everything shift past your thighs and knees, eventually moving to your calves and feet before there’s nothing against you. No fabric or hands or lips —only the suffocating air of the inn hitting your bare skin, forcing you to uncomfortably squirm as you look down.

“Beautiful,” he mutters, and suddenly it feels like your heart is bursting against your chest, watching as he leans forward to pepper a few kisses along your upper legs, reaching for the scars that line your stomach —ignoring the way they twitch beneath his fingertips as he traces over them. “How about we get you into the tub before the water gets cold, hm?”

Almost nervously you nod, feeling him grip your hips for support as he moves to stand before guiding you into the tub without another word.

TAGLIST:

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo @jjfchk @idiotsatan @bluestuesday @bloopthebat @art-by-greenie @heneralmoon @sukunababe @dreamingaboutyousworld @ranfithegood @haniscrying @liadamerondjarin @the-lake-is-calling @marina-and-the-memes @rookieoftheyear @zraloci-cpr @kaetmo @snickerdoodle-daydream @wowowwild @d1anna @raswiet @conniesbbymama @venus-wrts @demonicthorns @kihten @sanscas @spammypasta @leighsartworks216 @rose-gold-blue @p1ssmagg0t @hellish-writes @ghostinvenus @otayz @sexysquatch @sleepyeclair @colorful-anxieties @alina-exe @lillifer @girlwiththepapatattoo @acelin-ginsberg @pinkuranium @catrad0rable @scarletrosesposts @qwnamidala @itsrosebabe @bunnyperi @queenofcarrotflowers-s @tatumadams20 @spkyxszn @chlort @f3v3rs @awkwardwookie @joy-the-reader @warm-milk-with-honey-blog @vertigocrime @iyis @wildpiper @pebblethestone @tillywasneverhere @bex-03 @revemiya @staticspouse @itzagothamcitysiren

(taglist continued in reblogs)

#my love is mine all mine #astarion fan fic #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #a lover's folly #summer writes

257 notes · View notes

izvmimi · 2 months

Text

cw: crack but also cute, i think. reader has a specified magic, and she and mash are friends (for now). reader's a bit preoccupied with his diet. a bit of medical talk.

Mash is three bites into a cream puff when you put away the last of your pantry essentials, and turn to look at him, a slight frown on your face.

He’s done the legwork of your grocery shopping run, bringing everything into your apartment in one trip, and now, baked good in hand, he’s looking idly in your direction. You can tell you’ve exhausted him all morning with your chatter, but he’d deny it if you asked him, claiming he’s content to hear whatever you have to say.

You are now tasked with the job of convincing yourself that that’s true, but Mash doesn’t lie, and it is particularly hard to lie to you anyway. You lean over your counter as you watch him sit atop your barstool, kicking his feet practically, and when he catches you watching him finally, his eyes soften as he inquires what you have to say.

“Mm?”

You almost feel bad for spoiling his happiness when you say, “Mash, I think we should talk about your diet.”

He blinks, and takes four more bites, rapidly in succession. He knows exactly what you mean.

“There’s nothing wrong with my diet.”

He’s eating faster now, and before you can open your mouth the cream puff is gone. There are at least three more stowed away from the supermarket bakery this morning, sitting in your fridge, that he absolutely plans to leave with. Not that you can stop him, or would.

But it’s your duty to say something.

Moving in closer to talk to him, you pull up the other barstool and rest your elbow on the counter to prop up your chin. Now you’re eye to golden eye, and his expression is unchanged, neutral as always but he’s focused on you.

“I know you like them, but you can’t live off of flour and sugar, Mash.”

He blinks again. “Why not?”

You scrunch your nose. “Diabetes? Which leads to heart disease, stroke, poor arterial circulation, retinopathy, renal failure…” your fingers tap the desk with every disease, but your voice trails off as you can see his eyes glaze over and you let yourself sigh internally before stopping. “I’m wasting my time with this, aren’t I?” you say, not annoyed but somewhat defeated. You’ve looked away for a moment, but when you look back, you’re not sure when he moved, but there’s another cream puff in hand.

“Mash!”

“Mm?”

You grit your teeth. “At least consider what I have to say for a second.”

Through bites, he insists, “No, you totally have a point but my nutrition is fine.” He swallows, then pats his left chest. “Mike and Kevin have not brought anything to my attention.”

It’s your turn to give him a blank look, but Mash never ceases to surprise you, and if you don’t say something fast, he’ll tell you about the rest of his muscles’ thoughts and feelings.

“Right but long term, Mash.”

“Mm.” He smiles, accepting your concern for him. “Show me where I’m unhealthy then.”

Mash stands and raises his arms in a T-pose, and unable to help it, you burst out laughing. Of course, you can’t find any flaw - every extent of his body remains as chiseled and developed as the day you first met him, and the fact that he even looks so seriously willing to participate is so laughable.

“I-” you’ve run out of ways to defend your stance, but then you shake your head.

“You know that’s not what I mean-”

Somehow in the time that you closed your eyes and shook your head to recollect yourself, he’s started doing push-ups. You give him an appraising look, then go to the fridge and pull out a cabbage from the crisper.

Without bothering to ask, you settle down on his back once he’s slowed for a moment, and he continues, this time slow enough that you won't topple off of him.

“Okay, how about if I turn this choux into choux cream?”

He pauses in the up position, and cranes his neck up in your direction.

“I’m listening.”

“Good.” He descends again, and you make yourself more comfortable on his back, tucking your legs in.

“I use my magic to make you feel like you’re eating a cream puff, but it’s actually a nutritious vegetable.”

“Mm.”

He stops, and you jump off of him, and then he takes the cabbage from you in his right hand as you stand before him. Looking from the cabbage to you, he asks:

“So you’ll replicate the entire experience of a cream puff in this cabbage?”

You nod. “Like this.”

You touch his hand gently, whisper your incantation, and in Mash’s eyes, the cabbage now has the appearance of a perfectly appetizing cream puff in his hand, far better appearing than the one he just had, and far too eager, he brings it to his mouth, spitting out immediately when it’s a raw cabbage and not his favorite food in his mouth.

“Unpleasant.”

You grimace.

“Shit, I think I need stronger magic,” you murmur to yourself. Scratching your chin, you realize that taste might require a bit closer contact.

“Mash.”

Mash has set the half-bitten cabbage back down and is now in your fridge to cleanse his palate with another cream puff.

“Wait!”

He turns to the sound of your voice, mouth full, and you sigh. Walking towards him, you take the cream puff out of his mouth and set that on a plate too, right next to the cabbage.

Moving to the sink to wash your hands, you ask, “Can you let me try again? I just need permission to touch your cheek or tongue in order to make sure your taste buds get involved in the illusion.”

You turn and look at him, once your hands are dry, and you shake them out, and he looks at you contemplatively.

You raise an eyebrow.

“Can I or-”

Suddenly he steps forward, and gently takes your face in his hands, and before you know it, he’s kissed you. Tongue in your mouth, sweet and swirling quickly; it’s over almost as quickly as it began.

You hold your breath, but he’s reached for the cabbage now, and bites into it.

“It worked.”

The look on his face is pleasant and unfazed, unlike you. Your heart races for a moment, but soon you remember to breathe and air fills your lungs again.

All that’s left to say, your cheeks warmed, is, “I’m glad.”

#mash x reader #mash burnedead x reader #daydreams: mashle #mimi's notes #shmimi

173 notes · View notes

honeybleed · 5 months

Text

— ★ SOFTEST PLACE ON EARTH // ONYANKOPON

content & warnings: female reader, black-coded reader, ony is black british here cos i said so (think john boyega), reader is a postgrad student, hange is referred using they/them pronouns, hange is reader’s professor, ony is hange’s teaching assistant, reader & ony late twenties, hange early thirties, smut (shower sex) so mdni

author’s note: alas, my entry to my event. this song suits ony so bad hehe.

word count: 2.4k

To call your professor Dr. Hange Zoë kooky would probably be an understatement. They were an enigma.

You still enjoyed their lectures. It was clear as day they lived and breathed anthropology.

They would bustle in about five or ten minutes late, gabbling apologies.

It was endearing almost, knowing they’d apologise regardless considering the fact the students took advantage of Hange’s tardiness.

Hange’s lectures were always full to the brim. If you wanted to attend something that wasn’t a snoozefest like Erwin’s or be told to do the reading and get lost like Levi’s, Hange’s hall was where to go.

Always thought-provoking insights and discussions, Hange had this allure and aura about them that enthralled people. It was magnetic.

You were thankful to have been in their classes since your undergrad, in a way you’d grown up with Hange.

They had a soft spot for you, always letting you know they’d be more than welcome to read drafts of your essays and give feedback despite how hectic their schedule was.

Hange had watched you go from an anxious student, always second guessing yourself and afraid of getting something wrong to an assured and confident young woman, willing to take risks and striving to better understand the world.

Seeing you flourish filled Hange’s heart with admiration and pride.

In the upcoming weeks of Christmas, Hange introduced their new assistant. There were a few murmurs, mainly because he was so handsome.

He was towering over Hange, as the two walked to the front of the lecture hall.

“Alright, alright! Simmer down.” Hange called out as they clapped. “This is Onyankopon. I never really had the need for a teaching assistant since I’m just soooo amazing at multitasking-”

There were some titters and uneasy laughs at Hange considering how all over the place they were sometimes when it came to grading and replying to questions.

“Cut me some slack!” Hange gasped, faux offended as their hand was on their chest. “Anyways, Onyankopon will be here since I’ll have my hands full with my research proposal. That all good?”

Onyankopon’s eyes scanned the vast lecture hall. You swallowed a little thickly as your eyes met.

He had a commanding figure in a way. He seemed so nonchalant as he smiled while Hange had introduced him.

Weeks passed, and as your deadlines approached Onyankopon took the reins Hange had previously had on your learning.

You were growing very close. So much so, you struggled to repress the physical attraction you had to him.

He was fun to talk to. You’d been so busy with your studies, and you can’t even remember the last time you felt this way about somebody.

Wanting to see them every day. Wishing them good morning and good night. Spending hours on the phone talking about anything and everything in your free time.

But the thing you adored the most about Onyankopon is that he always pushed you to focus on yourself. You’d die before you’d admit to Hange that Onyakopon’s feedback was a lot more insightful than theirs.

On a Thursday afternoon, you had a step in your walk as you made your way to Hange’s office. Lately, Hange was away since they were busy with the research proposal they mentioned.

“Oh!” You gasped, a bit surprised at Onyankopon’s absence when you were meant to meet him. “Hey, Professor. What are you doing here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be in my own office?” Hange snorted, their legs on their desk as they had files in their hands.

“It’s just that Ony is supposed to meet with me.”

“Ony?” Hange echoed, amused at the nickname.

When you realised Hange had caught on, there was a slight unease stirring within you.

“You think I haven’t noticed you eyeing up my assistant?” Hange chuckled, causing your eyes to blow wide with alarm as your cheeks heated up.

You weren’t being that obvious, were you?!

“I haven’t-”

“Oh relax, Y/N.” They snorted. “I think it’s cute. Been a long time since there’s been some puppy love brewing in this office.”

“Huh?”

You were thinking too much into it. But did Hange insinuate it was mutual? Onyankopon liked you too?

“My girlie’s all grown up, huh?” Hange cooed. They threw their legs off the desk to stand up and pat your back.

You both turned to see the door open again, where Onyankopon was standing.

“Did I keep you waiting?” He chuckled.

“Oh no, it’s fine. Don’t worry.” You said coming across a little stiff since you felt exposed under Hange’s knowing gaze.

“What’s with you, huh?” They chuckled as they slapped your back. “I take it back. Acting like a blushing schoolgirl cos I caught on.”

“Hange!” You hissed.

You let Onyankopon in. He dragged his tongue over his bottom lip as he took in her appearance.

"Aren’t I lucky?” He remarked.

“Better count your blessings, hm?” You remarked as you shut the door behind you and linked arms with him.

You were invited to a faculty office party, but things quickly went awry with a mishap after you got out of Onyankopon’s car.

“For FUCK’S SAKE!” You screamed as the double-decker bus splashed water on both you and Onyankopon.

It sank in that he had out of reflex yanked you behind him in an attempt to shield you, but the water drenched you both.

Onyankopon attempted to hold back his laughter at your reaction but it was no use. Laughter overtook his body.

“It’s not FUNNY, ONY!” You barked whining as the water began to seep into your suede heels and your shimmery dress clung uncomfortably to your skin.

“Nah but you make it funny.” He guffawed as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m the one who took most of the hit.”

“May TFL perish.” You seethed.

“Come here.” He said, pulling you close against him. Your heart began to pound at the sudden closeness of you up against him.

You looked up at him through your lashes as his index finger stroked your cheek gently.

“Ony…” You said breathlessly as he gazed at you. The look in his eyes stirred something in your gut.

“Let’s just ditch the party.” He snickered as he gave you a smile. “All love to Hange but I’m not too thrilled on the idea of being cooped up with the faculty staff with Christmas music.”

“Yeah…that sounds kinda hellish. Don’t know what I was thinking.” You chuckled. “Got dressed up for nothing.”

“Not true. Spin around for me.” He grinned as he took your hand and you took a step back.

“I’ll look dumb, Ony.” You said a little bashfully.

“We both already look dumb.” He chided. “Do it for me. Please?”

His voice was so smooth, and the tug at the corner of his lips was just so irresistible. You couldn’t turn him down.

“…Fine.”

And you followed his request, the streetlights gleaming off the sequins as he spun you around and then pulled you back against him.

“That’s my girl.” He said tenderly as he gazed at you. “Would I be jumping the gun if I took you back to my place?”

You had to be dreaming. All those moments you’d shared culminated in this very moment. His eyes were raking over you hungrily, his voice had a hint of lust.

“I guess. But I like to live life on the edge.” You quipped, trying to recompose yourself with how flustered he got you.

As Onyankopon ushered you into his apartment after he had driven you home to collect some things since you were staying overnight at his (which was more ideal since the last thing you wanted was your roommates to relentlessly bully you the next morning) you were antsy.

He was being polite, offering to make you tea to warm you up, wash and dry your soaked clothes, and telling you to shower but quite frankly him inviting you over gave you other ideas.

But you suppose it wasn’t in his nature. He was a very gentle person under all the teasing. He always puts your comfort and well-being first. And if anything that makes you want him more.

“Is Hange mad we ditched?” You giggled as you saw Onyankopon stare at his screen after he told you he shot them a text saying the two of you weren’t coming.

“Nah, but they threatened to kick my ass if I broke your heart.” He chuckled as he shook his head. “I’ll just put your clothes here.”

“…Ony.” You said, voice low as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. Panicking deep down. You were going to cross the line tonight. But you had to.

You had to jump for what you wanted. And you wanted him.

“Yeah?”

“Join me.”

Onyankopon’s mouth went dry. He couldn’t believe what just came out of your mouth.

“W-what?”

“I mean, if you wanna.” You stuttered, instantly regretting it.

“Are you sure?” He cut you off, and you simply nodded. Not wanting to have your foot in your mouth again.

He made his way towards you, closer and closer. You held your breath in suspense, pupils dilated as your back was pressed against the wall.

It felt like years as he edged closer to lean in but his lips finally touched yours, very gently and softly. As if he was testing the waters almost. This was the first kiss the two of you shared, after all.

He tilted your chin up with an index finger and sucked on your lips, your mind went completely blank. His lips were so plump, his toned body pressed against yours, and the breathy sighs in the air made it seem as if it was going faster and faster.

Only in a towel, there was a coil beginning to form in your stomach, a pang of need. You gasped when you felt his large hand settle on the bare skin of your hip bone.

“Ony…let’s…shower…” You said between kisses. He nodded as he pulled away completely breathless and nudged his forehead against your own.

You unbuttoned his shirt and pulled off his belt as he pushed the towel, leaving you exposed.

You pushed him backwards until he slammed into the bathroom's door causing the two of you to dissolve into laughter.

“You’re a maneater, huh?” He chuckled. “Go easy on me.”

“I’ll try.” You replied.

You pulled away from his grip, as he shrugged off what was left until he was fully nude. It was your turn to shamelessly eye him, just like Hange said you did which made him smirk. You switched the hot water on and the shower head shot a jet of water.

You looked at the steam tentatively. He slid his hands onto your bare waist and began to suckle on your neck unexpectedly which made you let out a groan.

It was slightly cramped because of Onyankopon’s towering figure. You began to soak your hair and turned to face him as he was slotted behind you and the wall.

His face nestled into the crook of your neck and you felt his large hand cup your breast, then pinch your nipple which made you jolt, swatting him away.

Within an instant, you felt him trail his plump lips from your neck, and he took your earlobe between his teeth.

He spent the next minutes, which felt like hours, kissing every part of your body, you had goosebumps everywhere and were truly a mess, you felt your inner thighs becoming sticky. He left no place untouched.

Blooming love bites and marks, he instantly hauled you up, lifting you up the tub and pressing you against the wall. You wrapped your legs around his lower back and your arms around his neck as the water pattered down on their skin.

“Ony…please.” You mewled almost pathetically.

“What, baby?” He asked, almost tauntingly.

“Please fuck me..” You gasped out.

“You’ve got it, baby.” He brushed his lips against your skin as he lined himself up with your wet heat. “Gonna make you feel every inch of me.”

You felt yourself going dizzy almost as he slid into you effortlessly. He couldn’t help the low guttural grunts. You were so soft.

He thrusted himself inside you in one swift motion, burying himself deep as he began to pound into you with abandon.

"You're so wet, so fucking tight...wish I could stay inside you forever." He grunted as his hands roamed over your body.

“Ony!” You cried out. “You feel so good, mhm!”

“You feel good too, baby.” He panted, the slick and wet sounds from the two, skin slapping together and your moans and whining bounced off the bathroom walls.

You began to scratch his back and accidentally drew blood which emitted a groan deep from his chest.

It was almost as if the two were in your own universe, but soon enough his movements began to become jerky and sloppy as he was approaching his high.

He blurted out your name. Your eyes widened at how raw and hoarse it sounded. You cradled the back of his neck and head, with a tired smile.

"I’m here baby, let yourself go." You said soothingly, as he let out a groan, as he spilled inside of you. You gasped at the warmness filling your womb, biting your lip, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He shut his eyes, plump lips bitten and swollen and blood trickled down his skin from your scratches as well as bite marks.

You both slumped against the tiles.

“Better than Hange’s dancing and crappy punch…am I right?” He chuckled, a little out of breath as his chest heaved.

He draped an arm around you, pulling you against him as you nestled into his side. He planted a few kisses on the top of your head as you let out a content sigh.

“Yeah. But it’d be funny to see Levi and Erwin drunk and dance.” You chortled at the imagery.

“Can I see you again?” He asked, a little lowly as he tucked a strand of wet hair behind your ear as he gazed into your eyes.

“Well…I’m not dropping out anytime soon.” You snorted.

“You know what I meant.” He chuckled as he leaned in to kiss your chin and trace along your jawline which made you squirm and giggle.

“Okay, okay! A little out of my usual dating protocol but you can be an exception.”

“I’m honored.” He said with a wry laugh.

author’s note: TY FOR READING IF U GOT DIS FAR HEHE REBLOGS N INTERACTIONS ALWAYS APPRECIATED 🙏🏽

#aot x reader #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon smut #onyankopon snk #aot x black reader #aot x y/n #aot x female reader #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon fluff #⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ nara scribbles

286 notes · View notes

paigeswrld · 1 year

Text

Heart of Ice pt. 2

Azriel x Archeron!reader

Warnings: mentions of depression, angst, longing, I think that’s it??

WC: 2.8k

A/N: you guys are all so sweet, thank you for all the love on the first part<3 that was my first time ever writing anything, and when I started writing it I had no plan, just started typing. The fact that I got so much love blew my mind! There will be a third part to this, I think that will be the final part. I decided to just tag everyone that commented..(I’m new to tumblr so idk if it’ll work) Thank you guys for the support! I know I didn’t reply, but I saw every comment and I can’t begin to express how happy it made me to see that people actually liked it??

I’m always welcome to constructive criticism<33

****************************************************

After the night that Azriel promised to help you with your powers, you two spent a lot of time together. He tried taking you to the House of Wind to train, but you refused. You couldn’t stand to be around the others, not yet anyway. So, you began training in the woods.

Today was the start of the second week of training. Like yesterday, you spent an entire hour on silly breathing exercises for the mind, claiming that if you learn to control your mind then you can control your powers. Afterwards was spent doing physical training. With your lack of muscle, even the smallest things left your legs shaking and lungs gasping for air. Luckily, your new fae body had you gaining muscle much quicker than when you were human. Once you were entirely exhausted, he had you work on controlling your powers.

You still hadn’t managed to do more than conjure up a few snowflakes, and when you did manage more than that, you had trouble controlling where it went. Right now, Azriel wanted you to focus on making small, controlled patches of ice using water already in a puddle. It’s easier to use what’s already there then create something out of thin air, he had told you.

“Why do we do this last? Shouldn’t I practice when I have my full strength?” You turn to him after unsuccessfully trying to turn the small puddle to ice.

“If you learn to harness your powers while worn out, it’ll be easier at full strength. Besides, if you're tired, then your powers will be weaker, and there will be less risk of something going terribly wrong. Now try again.” He’s leaning against the tree, a casual day of pushing you to exhaustion.

You huff and turn back to the puddle. Deep breaths Y/N. Focus. It’s just a small puddle, you can turn it to ice. You willed your mind to stay calm, to focus simply on the puddle. You dig deep inside of you, invisible hands grasping the ice inside you and pushing it out, towards the puddle. It didn’t work. You hear a crackling, and a grunt from Azriel. You turn to him, only to find his legs frozen in a chunk of ice.

Never had you seen such shock on his face, which quickly turned to annoyance as he said, "Y/N, get me out of this damn ice."

You tried so, so hard to choke back the laugh that rose in your throat, but to no avail. Soon enough, you were doubled over in laughter. The sight of Azriel, the all mighty shadowsinger, stuck in a block of ice was quite possibly the most ridiculous thing you had ever seen.

Azriel, however, looked far from amused. "Y/N, you need to focus. Melt the ice and then you can laugh all you want, but my feet are getting cold." Even though the shadowsinger tried to look angry, you could still hear the hint of amusement in his voice.

“Okay, okay fine.” You took deep breaths, calming your mind, before putting all your focus on turning the ice to water. You weren’t entirely convinced it would work, considering you couldn’t manage the puddle.

“I’d rather not lose my toes to frostbite, so if you could speed this up, that would be great.”

You sent a glare towards the male. “You know, I could just leave you here. Leave you to find your own way out of the ice.”

He smirked at you, his arms crossed, “You and I both know you’re not going to leave me. We’re miles from home and out of range of Rhys’ daemati powers. You have nowhere to go.”

Story of your life.

With a sigh, you focus again on that stupid chunk of ice. Despite being trapped in the ice, Azriel still thought it okay to taunt you, even though he relied on you to get out of his situation. What a fool. You were beginning to regret letting that stupid, arrogant, handsome male train you…

Suddenly, there was a crack of ice and the splash of water, your shoes becoming soaked.

You looked at Azriel, who was now free of the ice, everything below his knees soaked. Despite the cold of his legs, Azriel was grinning at you. Grinning at you like a madman.

“You did it! You did it Y/N!” He rushed toward you and before you could react, he threw his arms around your waist spinning you around while laughing, “I knew you could do it, I just had to get you mad enough!”

Finally, he put you down, that adorable grin still on his face. You looked at him confused, “What do you mean ‘get me mad enough’?”

“Like most people, your powers tend to react more to negative emotions, including anger. I figured if I was able to annoy you enough, you would be able to use those emotions towards changing the ice to water. I was right.” That smug smirk was back on his face.

Rolling your eyes you said to him, “Does this mean I have to make myself angry every time I want to use my powers?”

“No, but in the beginning, it might help.”

You nodded. What Azriel said made sense. Your magic did tend to act up when you were feeling a negative emotion, like anger or fear. But with that numbness still deep in your heart, it was hard to muster up any emotions, even negative ones. Your time with Azriel was the only reprieve you had from that feeling. With him, the ice caging your heart melted just the slightest bit, slowly melting more and more as the days with him went on.

Finally pulling yourself out of you thoughts, you realized Azriel must be freezing. “We should probably go, wouldn’t want you to get that frostbite you were talking about.” And with that you two were off, back to the city of Velaris.

As you lay in your bed that night, it dawned on you, that was the first time you had laughed in months.

***

As the weeks flew by, you began to master your powers. You could conjure up snow storms in small areas, trap people in ice, throw ice daggers, and that was just the surface, according to Azriel. Yet, you still couldn’t shake the freezing cold that followed you wherever you went, no matter how hot the fire or the amount of blankets you piled upon yourself.

While spending time with Azriel helped tremendously for that numbness that had been plaguing you, it wasn’t the cure. There were days, like today, where it was worse and you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of your bed. Azriel had knocked on your door twice now, but you had simply pulled the covers over your head and attempted to block out any and all light.

Darkness. Darkness was what you wanted. Darkness would welcome you with open arms, it would hold you as you fell back into that deep, dark, bottomless pit of numbing depression. You would stay there forever. If you stayed there, you wouldn’t have to face your sisters again. Or the inner circle. Or the feelings for Azriel that were becoming harder and harder to ignore. None of it would bother you, and you would rather lay here and rot than face those things head on.

To your dismay, the Shadowsinger walked in, creating a crack of light in your dark pit. “What are you still doing in bed? We were supposed to start training 20 minutes ago.”

You decided to just ignore him, pulling the cover farther over your head.

You feel a dip on the edge of the bed. “Did you stay up too late last night?”

Finally, you give him a response, “No.” In fact, you had fallen asleep right after you got home, neglecting dinner and a bath.

He sighs, “Then what’s going on? You need to talk to me.”

You try to come up with an excuse, to think of anything that will get him to leave you alone. You almost told him you had your cycle, but if that were true, he’d smell it on you.

“I’m just… not feeling well today. I think we should cancel training for the day.” Your voice came out muffled by the covers.

“Do you need to see a healer? Are you sick?”

An easy out. “Yes, I’m sick. Nothing serious, just need to rest for a day or two. Then I’ll be fine.” You stayed under the covers, not trusting that you’ll be able to keep up the lie if you look into those hazel eyes.

“When Fae get sick, it’s often very serious. We should probably get you to a healer. I’ll have Rhys get Madja.”

“No!” You sit up all of a sudden, pushing back the covers and your eyes wide, “I don’t need a healer. Please don’t call Rhys in here, or anyone for that matter. I just want to be left alone.” You pick at your nails, not having the courage to look him in the eyes.

Ever so gently, he takes your chin into his scarred hand and brings your eyes to his, “Tell me what’s really going on sweetheart. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” Concern laced his features as he looked at you.

You look to the side, struggling to keep eye contact. “I just… I get this feeling sometimes. Where I no longer care about anything. About myself. And I just want to lay in bed forever, in the darkness. It’s like I can’t get myself to feel anything but numb, more so than usual. I don’t want to leave bed, I don’t want to talk to anyone. I used to be afraid of the dark, before the Cauldron, but ever since I was Made it’s the only thing that makes me feel safe, it’s comforting.” You could feel your cheeks turning red at your confession, you’ve never been so vulnerable with someone.

Azriel’s voice is thick with emotion as he says, “And does anything help you to get out of these moods?”

You shake your head.

“Very well.” He stands up and walks out the door, and the feeling of rejection seeps into your bones. You had scared him away. Only a couple minutes later he returns, having changed out of his leathers into a t-shirt and sweatpants. Your eyes follow him as he walks over to your bed and pulls back the covers, placing himself right next to you.

“What are you doing?”

“We will spend two hours here, in this bed, and then we are going to spend the day outside, maybe have a picnic. Is that okay with you?” He settles down into the bed and turns on his side to face you. Unable to find the words, you merely nod your head.

“Good. I know that this is hard, and that being told that it will pass isn’t what you want to hear, but it’s true and it will. Until then, I will be by your side, helping you every step of the way. But Y/N,” you meet his eyes then, and he puts a hand on your cheek, “I can’t fix you, I can only be there to support you. This is something you have to do on your own, nobody else can do it for you. Okay?”

You could almost feel the ice inside your chest melting away. Tears were starting to form in your eyes, and your voice wobbled when you spoke, “Okay.”

A small smile formed on Azriels lips. He pulled you into his arms, and to your surprise, gave you a delicate kiss on the forehead. “Go back to sleep sweetheart, we have a picnic to rest up for.”

As your eyes drift close, Azriels shadows create a veil of complete darkness around you both. It seemed at that moment, something akin to love began to push its way through the ice in your heart, and not once did he mention the chill on your skin, or how his arms seemed to be the only thing that kept it at bay.

***

It had been three months since the day Azriel comforted you in bed. He has continued to do so anytime he found you nestled under the covers, refusing to leave. Some days he would hold you while you told him all of your thoughts, exposing every corner of your wretched mind. Other days you two would stay completely silent, allowing the darkness to be your only source of comfort.

But there was that one day… that one day that Azriel told you everything. He had laid his heart bare for you to see, showing you the darkness that lurked inside. He told you of his childhood, the story behind his hands, the fears and nightmares that still haunt him. The worst one, he had told you, was that voice in his head, his fathers voice, telling him he would never be enough. Telling him nobody would ever love him, for how could somebody love a monster such as Azriel? He wiped away your tears, and you his, as you told him that anyone would be lucky to have him as their own, that they should feel honored. You couldn’t help but see the resemblance… how you both never felt like you were enough. You hugged him tighter after that, and he drifted off to sleep shortly after.

It was that day that the bond snapped for you, as you looked at Az peacefully asleep in your arms. You let out a gasp, not loud enough to wake him. You could feel it then, that golden tether linking you two together for eternity. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the male you’d grown to love being yours for the rest of your existence.

There was one problem, you realized. You still hadn’t forgiven your sisters, and they you, and you weren’t sure you ever could. How could you ever get over such a thing? That feeling of love quickly turned to a feeling of dread as you realized, Azriel would have to choose. These people were his family, and even if you were his mate, that didn’t mean he would pick you. You had decided then that you wouldn’t tell him. You knew that if you did, you would lose your mate forever, and you would rather love him as his friend than not get to love him at all.

***

It had been a week since the bond snapped, and you now stood skipping stones in front of a small pond as Azriel tried to convince you to attend family dinner at the House of Wind. He’s been trying to do so for the past couple weeks, claiming everyone wants to see you.

“I’ve already told you Az, it’s too much. What if something goes wrong with my powers again?” Not turning to face Azriel as you threw a stone at the water, sending it skipping across the pond.

You could almost hear the frown in his voice, “You have full control over your powers now, you can’t keep using that same excuse. They all want to see you, they miss you.”

You turned back to face him as your face scrunched up in anger, “Don’t lie to me Az. They don’t know me well enough to miss me. Those that do don’t care about me, they just want me to show up and act like everything is fine so they don’t have a guilty conscience. I won’t put myself through the pain of having to act like I’m okay just to soothe their selfish worries about their character.” You were almost chest to chest with the Shadowsinger, temper rising as you stared him down.

“If you just gave them a chance, Feyre and Elain both ask about you every time I come home, and even Nesta has asked how you are doing. What they did was wrong, but they’re trying to make things better. Shouldn’t you at least hear them out? If not for them, then for you. Give yourself that closure.” You could see the pleading in his eyes, begging you to do this. For you. For him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say no, not as he looked at you with those big, beautiful eyes. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes before looking back up to him, “Okay. One dinner, and you have to promise that if I want to leave at any point— even if we just stepped foot through the door— you will get me out of there. Deal?”

He put his hands on your waist, pulling you even closer, “It’s a deal.” As you looked at him, triumph written all over his face, you began to wonder if maybe, for a chance at being with him, you could look past all that your sisters had done.

And so it was settled, two days from now you would be attending the Inner Circle’s family dinner.

***************************************************

Taglist:

@illyrian-dreamer @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @venussdovess @fall-myriad @mischiefmaryon @lana08 @aetherl0l @anniestar2 @nobody00sthings @goldenmagnolias @booksboysandbaklava @letspretendimnottrash @xiangping-28 @nemesis6666 @im-bili @brekkershadowsinger @feyretopia @katcandy @valeridarkness

#azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #acotar

639 notes · View notes

lynxgriffin · 1 year

Text

Theories on Kris’s soul and Ralsei’s identity

Hey everyone! This is not my usual thing, but after thinking on it a whole bunch, I decided I wanted to fully write out my theory/backstory explanations based on the last two short Deltarune comics. I usually express theorizing through fanworks rather than just talking through it, but since it's still stuck in my brain even now I figured it'd be fun to also just describe it all. I hope you all find it interesting! Who knows what future chapters will bring us, and anything can (and likely will!) happen, but as of right now I'm pretty convinced this is how things are with Kris and Ralsei. It's long and there's lots of screenshots included, so check below the read more for everything. And huge thanks to DemoPhone for getting all these screenshots for me!

So, Kris is adopted by the Dreemurrs at a young age. As the only human in a town populated by monsters, they already stick out significantly. Considering Toriel checked out a book from the library on how to care for humans multiple times, the Dreemurrs were likely going through a big learning curve with Kris, too.

Kris is not just different physiologically from everyone, but they’re quiet and weird, often mischievous, and just don’t fit in. As a kid, they wear a headband with red devil horns to try and fit in with their adoptive family, and especially to emulate their older brother Asriel, who seems to be everything that Kris isn’t.

He’s popular, kind, well-loved by the town, and is always willing to make friends and do the right thing. Despite how different they are, the two kids clearly care for each other, and Asriel in many ways is Kris’s anchor to this town and this life.

Growing up, the Dreemurrs are friends with the Holidays, and the four kids spend lots of time together. Dess appears to be the more bold and outgoing of the two Holiday girls, but is tempered by Asriel’s responsible nature. Everything between them is going well until one day, when out exploring in the woods south of town, they come across the hidden bunker, and something goes wrong. It’s not clear yet exactly what it is…but it resulted in Dess going missing. Of the four kids, Dess seems to be bold, Asriel responsible, Kris mischievous, and Noelle fearful…so it seems likely that Dess and Kris investigated something in the bunker that the other two stayed away from. Kris witnessed or may have even been involved in what happened to Dess. Dess currently appears to be lost in a dark place, perhaps a place between Dark Worlds, perhaps “stuck in the code” of the game itself. Whatever it is, Dess has gone missing and may even be presumed dead by her family, and Kris witnessed it and may feel directly responsible. This is why they’re still nervous around the bunker, and perhaps even why they’re apprehensive about the appearance of the dark world in the school supply closet.

Dess’s mother, the Mayor, is not going to blame the little kids for what happened…however, she IS going to place responsibility on Asgore, who was chief of police at the time and clearly should have been watching the kids more carefully. Asgore loses his job, and as things slowly deteriorate between the Holiday and Dreemurr families, he also loses his marriage.

The kids stop hanging out together so often, and when they do, it’s more strained. Kris will be playing with Noelle when they stop, getting hit with the memory of what happened, and wander off to the piano to try and play out their feelings.

Kris builds up years of these feelings…underlying guilt for messing up the friendships and even marriages of the monsters that adopted them. Their interests are weird, their habits are offputting, and they can often only express a desire for attention through pranks.

Despite the fact that the monsters in the town act friendly towards them, they still feel outcast and misunderstood. Their popular and beloved brother Asriel is their one solid anchor to everything, and Kris often wonders “wouldn’t things be easier and better if I was just like him?”

But eventually, Asriel gets old enough and leaves for college. Kris is left alone in the town with all their feelings, but no anchor. In some ways, it gets worse, as the other townsfolk continue to talk about how great Asriel is with him absent. And Kris agrees with them…but that doesn’t help at all how they feel.

To top it off, a new girl arrives in the town, who immediately presents herself as a troublemaker. She seems to have some deep problems of her own, perhaps stemming from her own rough upbringing, and takes out her aggression on Kris, the only human in the town. Despite the bullying, Kris takes it all in stride, even amusement. Susie isn’t saying anything about them that Kris doesn’t already believe about themself. If anything, Kris admires how unapologetic Susie is about her behavior, and sees a kindred spirit in her. They’re both outcasts, after all, with gross and offputting interests. And it is pretty funny how clearly Noelle is infatuated with Susie, too.

And yet, Susie doesn’t seem interested in actually being friends now, and while Susie is admirable, she’s not helping Kris’s long-standing guilt, loneliness and depression. They start resenting how things have gone. They start looking for unconventional solutions. Perhaps they try the church, but the church doesn’t seem to have answers, so they look elsewhere. Maybe things would just be better if someone else was running their life. Maybe someone bigger than them can fix these seemingly insurmountable problems. They start looking up how to do magic online. How to summon demons, stuff like that.

When that doesn’t work out, they turn to the local goth girl for help. After all, they’ve done occult spells with Catti before…protection spells for Noelle; something to ease Kris’s worries so that Noelle doesn’t suffer from the same misfortune Dess did.

One night, Kris asks Catti to perform a spell to summon a spirit. And surprisingly…something seems to happen. Kris is suddenly confronted with a strange figure who seems to be the devil. The figure says that it can bring Kris what they want: a spirit that can possess them and potentially even solve all their problems. But the figure requires something in exchange: their soul. Kris is at first reluctant, but the devil figure promises that the arrangement is only temporary: they’ll get their soul back when the spirit is no longer possessing them. So Kris agrees, and gives up their soul in exchange for another one.

The deal supposedly goes over, but Kris finds that it doesn’t seem like anything has changed once the spell ends. They’ve gotten a new soul, but it doesn’t seem to do anything. If anything, everything becomes harder. They start operating on autopilot…saying very little, only doing what’s required of them, and sleeping for huge amounts of time.

The joke around town now is that they seem like a walking corpse. Sure, they’re not dead, but it often kind of looks like it.

Maybe this spirit was just a total dud? Maybe that devil cheated them out of their own soul after all and they didn’t get anything in return. They try more than a few times to remove the new soul on their own, in the hopes that maybe taking it out by force will get them their own soul back. They find that they can remove the red soul with great effort! However, without it, they’re even slower and it’s even more difficult to move or act in any way. Removing it at least grants them a small degree of agency, and it seems to prove that their own soul is definitely around somewhere, because they’re still alive. But they can’t go for too long without putting the new red soul back in, because moving without it is such a strain.

Meanwhile, Kris’s request for something to possess them has worked, just not in an obvious way. The player experiences the passage of time very differently than the game characters they’re playing as, after all. To the player, they’ve suddenly gotten an invitation from an unknown character that they suspect they recognize from another game they’ve played. They don’t know what the invitation is for, but they’re more than ready to find out, even if it means downloading an unknown and potentially shady “survey program.”

Conveniently enough, this invitation and download become available on Halloween. A bit of an odd day to choose if you want a lot of people to download and play your game right away, since it’s a major holiday and most people already have plans. However…Halloween is a great time to summon a demon.

And to Kris, they wake up one morning exactly a week before their brother is scheduled to return home for a visit, and suddenly find that something else is moving their body for them. That new soul wasn’t a dud after all.

No time to even get really used to suddenly being physically possessed, as Kris and that school bully they admire just go to pick up some missing school supplies and get swept up into a strange place that Kris feels might be distinctly familiar. Once there, they meet someone else who, strangely, already knows who they are: Ralsei.

While Kris has been shambling around town with their player soul not in use, their own soul still needs to be kept in good condition. You can’t just leave a human soul out on its own for a long period of time. It at least needs some kind of container…a vessel. And the devil figure works out a perfect vessel for it…an object close to Kris, that they have a lot of sentimental value around. Something that symbolizes their desire to fit in with their family, and be just like their brother. Kris might have given it to the figure willingly, or it might have been taken without their knowledge, but the result is the same.

But hey…why not make things even more interesting? A dark fountain can bring objects to life in their own dark world. What happens if you were to take an object currently carrying a human soul, and bring it to life with a dark fountain? What would it look like if Kris’s soul, filtered through an object that symbolizes their desire to be just like their beloved brother, was given its own form and identity?

You get Ralsei. A “lonely prince” who looks an awful lot like Asriel, but seems to more closely match Kris’s age and stature. He seems to be more like a remixed version of Asriel than identical to him. He already knows who Kris and Susie are, and he knows where things are located in the light world…because Kris knows all that.

He’s able to travel between different dark worlds without being affected by them the way other Darkners are, because he carries a Lightner’s soul.

While it’s unclear if he is talking directly to the player, just to Kris, or to both, he is at least aware of an entity distinct from Kris, since he names the castle town after the player. It would certainly make sense for him to be aware of the player’s presence and influence because he was a part of that whole exchange between souls in the first place. There’s even implications that Ralsei is, perhaps, communicating with Kris in ways that don’t involve speaking aloud to them. When asking Kris to pick up the items from the classroom, he uses parentheses, which typically seem to indicate a character’s thoughts rather than dialogue.

Since the player is able to read other characters’ thoughts, Kris can even respond to them if no one is speaking.

If parentheses for Ralsei indicate thinking rather than speaking, he is perhaps aware of how to communicate with Kris and/or the player in ways that other characters won’t hear…or perhaps is only even capable of it at all because he has Kris’s soul.

He is always deferring to Kris, even when Kris makes questionable choices. While he’s eager for friends, he seems desperate for Kris’s approval in particular, and takes great pains to not upset them…or allow other things to upset them. He seems to be confident in who Kris is, but struggles more with his own identity.

For Kris, seeing their own wish to be like their brother come to life, and then to have the spirit possessing them keep directing them to hug him…well, it’s kind of awkward.

Just to speculate on the future, if it is true that Ralsei has Kris’s soul, this has the potential for some serious drama, and even setting Ralsei up as an antagonist without him being generically “evil.” Ralsei hasn’t had contact with anyone before meeting Susie and Kris. However, as they go on adventures together, he’s meeting lots of new people and gaining new perspectives. He’s steadily growing more independent from Kris, and establishing his own identity apart from them. What happens if Ralsei comes to the conclusion that Kris was right to trade him away all along…that not only does Kris not need him, but that he’s just fine without Kris? That he, perhaps, prefers being Ralsei to being Kris’s discarded soul?

Considering the player can’t keep playing the game forever, and Kris really can’t be left the rest of their life with a nonfunctional soul that leaves them on eternal autopilot, they’ll have to get their own soul back eventually. And after several chapters of the player themselves getting really attached to sweet and friendly Ralsei, that opens up the potential for some truly heartwrenching conflict.

#deltarune #deltarune theorizing #kris #ralsei #red soul #and a lot more references and such #haha somehow I'm more nervous about this than I am usually posting comics!!#I hope it all makes sense!#I think there's even other theories that can branch off from this #but they're even more speculative #I guess we'll see eventually!!

722 notes · View notes

bokettochild · 2 months

Note

if i may ask, for febuwump if u don’t mind, day 15 twilight asking “who did this to you” to a whumped legend? and then protective big brother mode activate

Oh boy, I had SO many ideas for this one! Apologies for it being (checks wrist only to realize I'm not wearing a watch) late? By....time? Anyways, here's some brotherly bonding! (And copious amounts of Twilight having friends because I can!)

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: 5,792

Summary: Being a big brotehr is stressful, and sometimes, Twilight just needs a break to go and be a person. When one of his brothers needs him most though, he's willing to drop everything. Although, in the end, it's not all bad.

(Warnings: References to alcohol and social drinking)

As a rule, Twilight loves his little brothers.

No matter who it is or what they’ve done, or even how much they might drive him up the wall on any given day, he loves them all the same and will always be there for them. Still, he’s only a man. Sometimes, as much as he loves those who he’s found as family, he also wants to get away for a bit and be not just a big brother, but more.

At Telma’s, he’s the hero, but he’s also the country boy who doesn’t know the city well yet. He’s the daredevil, because they've never met Wild or Warriors and they don’t know how much worse it really could be. To his friends, he’s the wild one, and for once, he’s not responsible for watching out for any of them. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he’d guess they all feel the need to keep an eye on him. Ashei definitely does, all things considered, and Auru likely does as well. Considering he’s the youngest of the group though, son to one and young enough to be the child or grandchild of two others, it makes sense.

So, naturally, after a long day on the road with the other heroes, one where Wild has been not quite a pain in his ass but definitely a challenge, no one can blame him from wanting to get away from the champion a bit.

“It’s not that I don’t love the kid,” he tells the others, “But Ordonia’s Horns, does he try my patience some days.”

“What did he do?” Ashei’s dark stare flicks over him, lips twitching in what, for her, is a greatly amused smile. “Climb up a freezing mountain without proper gear and nearly get killed?”

His tankard hits the table harder than is really necessary, and he’s definitely not pouting as he stares back at her. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

She just blinks at him, face unchanging.

Twilight sighs, running his free hand over his face and shaking his head at the same time. “No. He’s a smart kid, amazing at survival an’ he’d never make that kind of mistake. Well, not now.” Brows raise, but he quickly explains. “I’m sure near the start of his adventure he had to learn somehow, but as young as he is, he’s pretty exceptional in all things survival.”

The familiar clucking of Shad’s tongue announces the arrival of the scholar, who drops without a care into the free seat beside him, smile loose and, to anyone else, haughty. Twilight knows that smile though, knows it means mischief, and he’s not wrong. “And yet we got stuck with you, when we could have had someone so capable!”

Maybe, in the earlier days, he would have smacked the other for those words. In the early days he certainly would have wanted to, and he would have meant it too. Now, the urge to jostle him like he does with Warriors when the other teases him is still very much there, but he resists it. Shad may be close in height to the captain, but he’s not accustomed to taking blows, and a smack from the ranch hand may or may not actually leave him still sitting in his chair.

Instead, he settles for knocking his boot against the man’s ankles, staring at him pointedly. “Yeah, I’d love to see him launch yer skinny ass up to the sky islands. Don’t know if you’d survive the trip though.”

“But he’s a hero, saved a princess didn’t he? You expect me to believe he doesn’t know how to handle other living people?”

He snorts. His understanding of the younger hero is filtered through uncanny dreams that, apparently, show him things that actually happen between them in the future, in the cub’s era, but even if he doesn’t hold them as memories of his own (not quite yet) he does know how Wild treats his princess. “I once saw him push his princess down a mountain, so...”

“What?” Auru stares at him, and Twilight is abruptly reminded that their present company is not just people his own age who the shock factor works on, but also elders who might actually experience heart failure at some of the stories he could tell about his cub. “She was standin’ on a shield an’ they were doin’ this thing called shield surfin’. Worst she got was a face fulla snow when she skidded into a bank.” Somehow that doesn’t assure the elder very much. “She was laughin’ when we got her out, and she pushed herself down the next time.” He adds, watching Auru relax at least slightly at the words.

“Well then, it’s clear they were doing it in good fun,” Shad answers. “He doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Are you a princess?” He teases back. “Gee, Shad, I must have missed the tiara! Where you been keepin’ it?”

Unlike himself, Shad takes no issue with smacking him for his jesting. Unfortunately for the scholar though, he can take a hit, and at worst it just feels like a slight stinging from the impact. Shad, on the other hand, cradles his hand like it’s been broken.

Ashei shakes her head at the man, sipping from her tankard with a sigh. “You really should know better by now.”

“I forget!”

“You forget he’s a wall of muscle when you’re looking right at him?” Telma teases, waltzing over with a drink for Shad and offering a warm smile to all of them.

Twilight takes the opportunity to flip the glasses of his friend’s nose. “You need a better pair of these if you’re that blind.”

Shad squawks, fumbling for the fallen spectacles. It takes a moment, and his flailing almost ends up with them falling in his drink, but Ashei catches them neatly and offers them back. It's only when they're on the scholar’s face again that he turns to Twilight, huffing. “Why must you do that?”

“Because I can.”

And this is just what he means. He’s not the elder sibling here, he’s not in charge, he’s not the reliable one. To these people, he’s the young pup who beat Ganon, the country bumpkin up from Ordon who sees the city as a wonder and a giant. He’s just Link.

Not that he resents his brothers for needing him. No, he’s glad to have a place and to know what’s expected of him, to be able to do something for them. Still, sometimes he doesn’t want to be the level-headed, well-behaved example for the younger ones to emulate. Sometimes, he wants to be as crazy as his protege. The problem is, he can’t do that with them watching, he can’t when doing so jeopardizes the trust Time has in him to help keep the younger ones in line and out of danger from their own crazy exploits.

Here, he can be a bit crazy. Here, he can let loose. Here, no one can see him being a wild young man in his twenties. So, he enjoys it. He laughs and he teases and he and Shad go back and forth for the next hour or so with jabs and jests that have the others all rolling their eyes or sighing at them, stares heavy but not nearly as cold as they might appear to a onlooker.

It’s a good night all told. By the time they’re all getting up to leave, Auru’s already gone home, and Telma’s getting a start on cleaning up the bar for closing. Shad’s had a bit too much, although not enough to leave him a babbling mess, just a tired one, and Twilight and Ashei are left to shoulder the scholar and haul him back to his own home.

“I could haul him myself.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Ashei hums from where she has Shad’s other arm around her shoulders, “but we’d never hear the end of it if he found out you princess carried him down the street like a maiden.”

He sniffs. “If his pride’s that sens’tive, that’s his fault.”

Her lips twitch into a little half smile. For Ashei, that’s the equivalent of a cackle. “It’s bad enough being seen with a country boy who could crush him, being treated like a woman as well hardly helps his masculinity.”

“Again,” he chuckles, maybe slightly tipsy himself, “ain’t my fault he’s fragile.”

Dark eyes slide to stare at him, but his friend says nothing ore on the matter. There's not much more time to say anything either, since Shad lives relatively close to the bar anyways, so getting him home is hardly a lengthily journey. Getting into his place to drop him off is a bit of a mess, as Twilight does have to support the scholar long enough for Ashei to pat him down for his keys, but once she’s got them and unlocked the door, he does take the chance to sweep the smaller man up in his rms and carry him through the door, even as the swordswoman watches while shaking her head.

Once Shad’s laid in his bed, shoes off and tie loosened only because Ashei is a dear and not because of any kindness on Twilight’s part, they step back out into teh street together, pulling the once more locked door closed after them.

“He’s going to be pissed.”

He chuckles. “He can live with it.”

A gauntleted arm nudges against his, protected against impact unlike the scholar’s hand, and much stronger too. “You say that because you’ll be gone by morning and don’t have to deal with it.”

“You could be too,” he reminds her, “he’d never dare follow you up into the mountains.”

This time, the rough nudge actually makes him stumble. Maybe he is tipsy. He’s about to protest at teh rough treatment, or tease, he’s not sure exactly what it is that’s on his lips because it slips away in an instant when a soft noise, a familiar sound that is his utter weakness, sounds on the flagstones of the alley not far from him.

Ashei must see his ears prick up, face turning towards the sound, and she already knows, because one perfect brow raises with all the grace and authority of the captain. “Cat?”

His moving feet are his only answer.

She sighs. “Do you have to pet every one of those things that you see?”

“Yes.”

Despite her protests, she trails after him, watching as he peers around the alley, crouching low to find the fluffy creature. “I don’t understand why you like them so much. Aren’t you a wolf? Shouldn’t you prefer a dog’s company?”

“I can enjoy both!”

Ashei sniffs. “Dogs are better.”

He turns to her, affronted and maybe, slightly offended. “They are not!”

“You turn into a dog,” the words are flat, “shouldn’t you take that as a compliment?”

“I’m not a dog,” he sniffs, “I turn into a wolf, and I’m still me under the fur, so it’s different anyways. Most dogs don’t act like that.”

“You chase your tail.”

“I had to learn to blend in so people wouldn’t suspect anything!”

He doesn’t deign to meet the look that’s fixed on him, but he knows precisely what it is: brows raised, chin lowered, eyes flat and simply waiting for him to cave and admit she’s right. Uli pulls the same face on Rusl when he says something dumb, and he’s seen Telma do it too. He’d say it’s a woman thing, but he’s pretty sure he’s seen Warriors do it too, and Four as well, so saying that would be a very good way to get his ass kicked. Shad might be unable to do much damage, but Warriors can and has thrown his ass across the camp, and could probably do it again.

Instead of saying anything, he keeps his eyes open, ears flickering about to catch any further hint of where the critter in the alley is hiding he thinks it’s a cat, but it was a muffled and very brief sound to begin with, so all he knows for sure is that it’s something small with paws. Crouching low and clucking his tongue softly usually draws them out, but this time there are no such results. He’s almost about to give up and accept that the sweet little thing had maybe slipped away already when Ashei’s hand catches his shoulder suddenly, grip firm.

“What-”

“Look,” her other hand points down at the flagstones underfoot, “blood.”

Playfulness and excitement bleed away to a firmness he usually only takes on in battle, and he turns his attention to the spattering on the stone rather than the slight shuffling he’d thought before, although he doesn’t dismiss the noise either. “Fresh too.”

Dark eyes meet his own, a silent question.

Usually, he’s against using his crystal in public spaces, but it’s late eough at night, and in a seedy enough part of town that he doubts anyone’s lingering around the area to see, and if they are, they’re no good anyways. He shifts, fur and claws taking over in a now familiar twisting and aching. It doesn;t hurt anymore, no more than like stretching an unused muscle, and it only takes a moment to settle into the wolf’s body that’s as much his by this point as the hylian one he prefers.

“I’ll follow you.” Ashei tells him, hand drifting to her hip and the sword hanging there.

She’s ready for trouble, and he is too as he sets his nose to the ground and tries to follow the trail that is invisible to human eyes, but clear as day to him as it winds and twists around the small space they linger in. Whatever left the trail isn’t human, he knows that quickly. The scent trail springs off of walls and rubble in the streets in ways only the most skilled of fighters could achieve, and even then, likely not when injured. It’s fresh still though, like he said, so it’s not as though it fades out quickly, and it’s only a few minutes before he finds it’s end amidst some fallen crates around the corner.

Something from within the pile of discarded containers shuffles, the same slipping of paws against stone, and rapid little breathes that sound in time with a pitter pattering heart.

He shifts back. Wolf form is easier to use to track things, especially when his head is slightly fuzzy from alcohol, but for small animals, it’s not always the most welcome sight. A hylian with kind hands and gentle eyes is easier to accept in his experience.

“Here?” Ashei asks, brows raised.

He nods. “Not human.”

She relaxes. He doesn’t. Animal death isn’t anything she worries about; she’s a warrior, a fighter, if the animals die, then they do. People are her priority. He, on the other hand, would prefer to avoid any unnecessary death if he can help it. Maybe it’s because he knows what it’s like to be on both sides of the matter, but unless strictly necessary, he doesn’t care to be a witness to or cause of death.

Her hand slips from her sword and she stays back as he crouches low again, carefully shifting the crates and clucking softy. “Hey there, little ‘un. You okay?”

The air seems to go still for a moment, and somehow, he knows his voice has made the creature freeze, but a moment later, as he shifts the boxes, wary lest they suddenly shift and crush the little injured thing, it seems to settle again, and the softest little questioning ‘mrrrp?’ sounds from within.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, voice lowering, a soft rumble that rolls gently off his tongue and through his throat. Usually, it works on most animals, unless they have bad experiences with men specifically. Here, it seems to have the preferred result, and the softest brush of paws on stone touches his ears as he moves another crate.

As the wood lifts away, he nearly drops it again at the sight that lies before him.

“What’s wrong?” Ashei’s hand is moving to her sword again, likely as a result of the tension that’s jumped back into his shoulders, the way his ears have flicked back to press against his skull in horror.

He doesn't answer her. Instead he’s all but throwing the crate away and reaching into the space between splintered wood. The motions are maybe too sudden, he reminds himself belatedly, for handling an injured creature, and the flinch away from his touch drives the point home. His heart wrenches somewhat at the way long ears press back and little paws stutter against stone, violet eyes squeezing shut in a wince.

Two thoughts flicker in his head. How is Legend a rabbit, and what is he doing looking bleeding out in an alleyway as a rabbit?

“Shhhh,” he tries to soothe, “it’s jist me, jist me, okay?” His eyes flicker over bloody pink fur to dark eyes that stare up at him, shining with a fear he’s never seen from the other before as a fluffy little chest rises and falls with breathes that would be dangerously fast for a hylian, but even for a small rodent are concerning.

There’s a lot of blood, and he means a lot.

“Who did this to you?” He can’t help the soft sigh in teh words, the almost coo. Small animals are most definitely his weakness, and small injured animals, even if they’re actually grouchy teenage boys, are definitely worse. His brother just looks so breakable and delicate, and the crimson matting fur together and staining the stone is just making his heart clench up even more as he reaches out.

From behind, Ashei’s feet pad softly over, wary, but knowing her, she’d know he wouldn’t address anything threatening in that sort of voice. Still, she does recoil slightly, shock briefly flashing across her face as he manages to get a hold on his brother’s changed form, carefully lifting Legend up into his arms. “Is that a pink rabbit?” Her voice catches slightly, which is frankly impressive; she’s usually never so expressive.

He nods, and while last time Legend had protested loudly at being picked up and handled like an actual rabbit, this time the animal form of his brotehr nestles down into his arms with a soft shudder, head resting on the crook of his arm even as wary eyes lift to stare at the swordswoman who’s likewise fixed on him.

“What in Hylia’s-”

“He’s hurt bad.”

“It’s a rabbit in Castletown, are you shocked?” Reason seems to be slipping over to cover shock as she turns her eyes, flat once more, up to stare at him instead of the critter in his arms. “There’s dozens of dogs in this neighborhood, and while most have probably ever seen a rabbit before, they’re still hunters by nature.”

The words twist in his gut. Not because he hadn’t realized; he’s changes into a wolf, he knows what sorts of urges come with the canine form, and while he might laugh it off, there’s still a part of him that, when in that form, lunges at the chance to chase small things, to get his teeth into them and shake them. He’s more man than beast of course, so he doesn’t really give into it unless he’s starving for food and a hunt is truly needed, but even then, there’s still part of him that recoils at his own actions. He’s been the one hunted before though, chased and tracked and lunged for by those who’d rather use his pelt to warm their families then let him so much as walk past them in the street.

Still, as a wolf, he’s got teeth and claws to fight back, if he wanted to. The creature in his arms, his brother, doesn’t have that option. Legend's teeth and claws can barely draw blood, and by the time he’d gotten close enough to even try, a dog’s teeth would already be snapping around him before he could do anything.

His arms tighten around the shivering form in his arms. In the back of his head, he can almost hear Uli, back when he was a kid still new to Ordon, still new to trees and animals and anything that wasn’t sand and swords. He shouldn't scare little things, ever, she’d told him. She’d been holding a rabbit in her arms, one she’d somehow managed to catch while they were out having a picnic in the fields with him. He’d been in wonder of the glossy fur and tiny paws, but moving too fast, too harsh, and it was hiding it’s head in her arms to avoid him. ‘They’re not made to handle scary things,” she’d murmured to himself and an equally awed Colin, who was only three at the time. ‘their little hearts might explode if you scare them too much.’

It’s slightly an irrational fear, considering Legend isn’t actually a rabbit, just transformed into one, but the words still ring in his head as he cradles the broken little body in his hold.

Ashei’s stare is blank as it turns back to his little charge, lips twitching downwards briefly. “You’d be better off putting it out of its misery, Link. It can’t survive here, and you can’t take it with you.”

The very idea makes his stomach, heart skipping up into his throat as he recoils from his friend, body shifting by instinct alone to shield his little brother from her cold stare and colder words. “No!”

“Link...”

“He’s not just a rabbit!”

“How much were you drinking?”

The implication hurts a bit. He can hold his alcohol better than that, and he hadn’t had very much at all. He knows better! He knows Sky would have words for him if he came back drunk, especially after the trouble they’ve been having with keeping certain heroes sober. “No, I’m serious! He's....” the words slip outr of his head for a moment as he turns his gaze down to dark eyes that are squeezed closed in pain. “He’s...”

“I’m not a rabbit.”

He’s never seen Ashei’s eyes widen that much in his life, nor her move so quickly, sword half drawn and feet scrabbling back in shock at the fact that rabbit in his arms just spoke.

“He’s like me,” he tries, soothing one hand down blood matted fur, and realizing at the same time that he should probably do something about the damage done to the vet.

“A shifter?”

“A hero,” he corrects, attention now on finding the source of the blood. “And yes, he transforms when exposed to dark magic.”

“Can he turn back on his own?” She moves closer, apparently assured by his words, even though her eyes are still fixed on the pink rabbit that can talk, likely wondering how much more insane her night is going to get.

Twilight shakes his head. “Not without a source of light magic.”

“But you-”

“I have control over the crystal, and practice. He’s...different.”

There, he’s found it, the source of the blood. His heart twists up more, somehow, when he identifies the familiar marks left by sharp teeth. It could be his own work if it was a size or two bigger, and that particular thought has his stomach lurching yet again. There’s more bites than one too, and one paw seems to have been crushed, hanging oddly and when he jostles it there’s a bitten off cry of pain from his brother’s altered form.

“He doesn’t look good.” Ashei states grimly, ow crouched at his side and staring intently at the injuries and violet eyes that squeeze closed as rapid little breathes shake the tiny body in his hold.

She’s right. “Is there some sorta animal doc ‘round here?”

Raised brows. “We aren’t a country town, Link.”

“But even city folk have horses and shit, right?”

Ashei frowns, gaze slipping free of his own. “Horses, yes, but smaller creatures-”

“What about Agitha?”

A flat look. “She’s a child, and her interest is insects.”

“Small beings that she believes are magic,” he corrects, already shifting to his feet, cradling the fluffy form in his arms with all the care he’d use with Uli’s littlest. Legend doesn’t protest the movements either, although that might just be because he’s in too much pain to do so. “A talking pink rabbit is going to make her night.”

Following his lead, the swordswoman stands, dusting herself off with a little sigh. “It’s worth a shot, I suppose.”

The path to the self-proclaimed princess’s house is a short one, which is the main cause of his choice to see her, that and, like he said, her love of small magical beings. A rabbit and a butterfly are very, very different, but he’s counting on the quirky nature of the girl to overrule that logic like it does with most things. Sure, putting his hopes on a twelve-year-old with questionable logic isn’t maybe the best choice he’s made in his life, but considering he took the advice of a warrior killed in battle on how to beat Gannon, no one can exactly argue that his logic is sound either.

If anything, Agitha is awake, and when Ashei knocks at the door, it swings open quickly, revealing swinging pigtails and a bright smile that’s just slightly off-putting. “Ah, brave knight! You’ve returned!”

The look Ashei levels him with could probably kill a lesser man.

The bug princess swings the door open wide, smile even wider as she cocks her head on one side. “Welcome! The Princess of Bigs is happy to let you enter her kingdom!”

“Thank you,” he bows his head slightly. The best course of action here is to play along. He’s not sure why Agitha is like this, but going along with her game doesn't hurt anyone, even if it used to drive Midna crazy. Still, she’s a kid, and he’s used to kids, good with them too. “I come seeking the princess’s help.”

“A knight needing help from a princess? How queer!” She giggles into her hand, but then stops. It’s like her whole person stalls for a moment, eyes falling on the bundle of pink in his arms. “Oh my, what’s this you’ve brought here?”

He exchanges a look with Ashei, and in return, she just stares.

“This is an enchanted warrior,” he tells the girl, “he’s been cursed into this form, and injured badly. We thought, since you are princess of the creatures of the small kingdoms, that maybe you might be able to aid him, even if he isn’t one of your subjects.”

He can feel the groan building up from his companion, but she doesn’t release it, thankfully. Agitha probably wouldn’t notice if she had though, gliding forwards slowly with features pinched up into an honestly adorable pout. “Oh, the poor, poor little warrior!” She coos. “Yes, I am not princess of the mammal world, but I do not have a heart of stone. Here,” her arms are thrust out, open and waiting, “allow the Princess to help him!”

He’s more hesitant than he’d like when handing over the vet’s beaten form, but Agitha handles him with surprising care, shushing and cooing as she strokes back long ears, whisking around to head off deeper into the room. Twilight trails after, leaving Ashei at the door, as the woman does not appear to be at all interested in plunging further into the insect castle. He’s cautious with where he puts his feet and keeps his distance, also wary of his surroundings. Meanwhile, Agitha lays the vet’s rabbit form on a tabletop and, with quick kiss to the brow that would be very ill advised considering the blood there, she darts off to grab something from one of the many nooks and crannies about the room.

It’s honestly impressive, considering her age and the general doubts he has for her sanity, how efficient the insect princess handles the injuries presented to her. She shows little worry for the blood that gets on her dress and many accessories, humming softly to herself as she set bones with ease that’s almost scary and binds up wounds with care that he’d almost mistake for the skill of an actual healer. Once she’s done though, she’s scooping up Legend’s little body and settling him back in Twilight’s arms, a smile on her face as she winks up at him, one finger pressed to her cheek with a coy little smile

“Lucky for you, Mister Captain Hero taught me a thing or two on treating wounds! He’s all fixed now! Make sure to let him rest and give him lots too eat, okay? And lots of pets!” She claps her now blood stained hands, smile still shining. “He’s such a darling thing! He deserves all the pets in the world! Oh, I wish you could pet bugs, but there’s so little of them to pet, and butterflies die if you pet them...”

His smile is stilted, but he manages to bob his head in thanks all the same. “Thank you, princess.”

“Of course, brave knight,” he’s answered with a charming smile and a little curtsy, one that leaves bloody fingerprints on pink skirts. “If ever you find another such wounded warrior of the magical world, do bring them here. Princess Agitha will take care of them!”

Ashei hurries them out the door before ‘Princess Agitha’ can say much more than that. Honestly, he’s thankful. She’s not a bd kid, but she’s kind of off-putting if he’s being honest. Legend’s face buried in his arms indicates that he too finds the girl somewhat off-putting, even if he hadn’t spoken at all since they alley.

“That child is insane.” Ashei pronounces once they’re safely away again.

It’s strained, but he finds himself laughing slightly, hand dragging over long ears as he walks and resisting, strongly, the urge to rub his face into long fur. “Yeah, prob’bly.”

A side glance is fixed on him, feet not stopping on the well known path back past the bar. “Will you be going back to your inn now?”

He nods, glancing down to find Legend is staring up at him as well, gaze hazy from either pain or exhaustion, he’s not sure. “Yeah. It’s pretty late, an’ i still need to get him changed back before the others realize he’s missin’.” And then, as an after thought, he adds, “I know the way back.”

“You had a bit to drink.”

“Ashei,” he laughs, strained, “no one’s gonna try anything on swordsman wearing wolf’s pelt, not if they have an ounce of sense! ‘Sides, it’s not far off.”

Her stare is heavy.

“I’m fine. If anythin’ as the man here, I ought to be offerin’ to walk you home!”

Weight is nothing in comparison to the sharpness in those eyes. “Watch it, Ordon.”

“Yes, miss.”

She shakes her head, dark hair somehow not so much as swishing with the motion. “Have a good night.” And then she’s heading off, not even bothering to wait around for his echo of her farewell and instead disappearing around a corner up ahead, pace faster than his own as he tries to keep steady and not jostle the brother in his hold. With her gone though, it’s just Legend and himself, violet eyes truned up to stare blearily up at him.

“We are gonn talk about this later,” he warns, even as he sets off towards the inn again.

Legend shifts, ears flicking slightly in answer, but he doesn’t talk. If anything, the rabbit in his arms curls in tighter, defensive.

“I’m not mad,” he’s quick to assure, foddling long ears gently, “but you scared me there, vet.”

Still no answer. He resigns himself to silence as his feet carry the two of them down the mostly quiet streets of Castletown and back to the inn, one hand still running through silky fur, careful not to catch on where it’s still matted with blood.

“Here’s hoping Sky doesn’t have our heads for wakin’ him.” He sighs as they come to the door, and he has to stop his petting of pink fur to push it open. “Hopefully the rest are also asleep, cuz I ain’t got an answer for any of this.”

The rabbit in his arms snorts, but th head that’s been lolling into the crook of his arm raises to butt against him gently. It startles him.

So many years ago, Uli said that was how rabbits indicate affection, or ask for more pets. Good grief, how out of it is Legend: Mister-Don't-Touch-Me-I-Will-Bite-You? There’s no way to know though, but he doesn't look a gift bunny in the mouth, and he’s only too happy to continue his petting as he takes the stairs up to their room, nodding briefly to the wide eyed inn-keeper as he goes.

Tomorrow, he will have to ask Legend what happened. Tomorrow, he will have to adopt being a good, responsile big brotehr who gets to the bottom of things, but for tonight, he’s simply content to try and turn his brother back to a hylian, get a potion down his throat, and head to bed, leaving the adult stuff to future Twilight. That’s easy enough too. Sky has questions, but is too tired to slur through them, and while feeding the vet a potion is hard with the other slumping against him so heavily, but they manage. They manage and then he’s slumping himself back into the bed left open for him. He sort of expects Legend to slip away after, but belatedly, he realizes that’s just impossible. Maybe it was the petting, since he’s been there and he gets how much it turns his muscles into jelly, but pink hair hits his chest the moment his back has settled into the mattress, and the hand that catches in the front of his tunic further cements that Legend isn’t going anywhere.

Ah well, if Legend’s going to take up space in his bed, he reserves the right to keep running his hands through fluffy pink. If Legend doesn’t tell him to stop, he won’t. The vet doesn’t eitehr, just hums softly, curling in on himself and nestling into his side with a soft sigh that would almost, almost fool him into thinking his brother was still in his beast form.

Tomorrow will be interesting. Explaining the blood on their clothes, where they’d been, and all else won’t be fun. But for tonight they can have a little more peace. The scare is over, and Twilight’s free for just a little bit more. And hey, the brief panic was worth it, especially considering he’s getting cuddles out of the deal!

#asks and answers #linked universe #linkeduniverse #febuwhump2024 #febuwhump #ketto writes #lu twilight #lu legend #ashei tp #shad tp #telma tp #auru tp #twilight princess resistance

87 notes · View notes

hbyrde36 · 10 months

Text

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 2

Ch 1 ao3 link

*Eddie - 1986*

Dustin burst in the door without knocking. A habit Eddie had been trying to break him out of for years. One of these days he’d do it at the wrong time and see something he’ll wish he hadn’t. Maybe then he’d learn his lesson.

“So, don’t freak out but…”

“Ugh” Eddie groaned, pushing his face further into his pillow. “It’s never good when you start a sentence like that. At least let me get some coffee first.”

“Fine.” Dustin relented, stomping back out into the kitchen of the Munson trailer.

Ten minutes later and with coffee in hand, Eddie motioned for Dustin to continue with whatever nonsense he’d woken him up for this morning.

“I told the guys about Steve, about you knowing him.”

“Dustin!” Eddie shouted, incredulously.

“What? It’s not like it’s some big secret or something!”

“You didn’t know!”

“No, I didn't. But I should have realized, and I shouldn’t have said what I did the other night about him. That wasn’t cool. That’s why I told them, because I felt bad, and because I was thinking that maybe we could do a little investigation of our own?”

The kid meant well and it was sweet that he wanted to do something to make Eddie feel better, but what did he think he and a bunch of teenagers would be able to do about it?

Eddie shook his head. “I already told you man, his parents are loaded. I’m sure they left no stone unturned. What could we possibly do that they haven't already tried?”

Dustin’s face spread into a cocky grin. “For starters, Mike talked to Nancy. Did you know she dated Steve for a little while right around the time Will got lost in the woods?”

He had known that actually. In fact he vividly remembered catching the two of them in the boy’s bathroom that one time. He’d never thought about it in reference to Steve’s disappearance before though. The couple had broken up a few months before it happened.

“Yea, okay. So, they dated. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I'm not sure if it does, but the police never even talked to her. Mike said she was willing to talk to us about him, if you want.”

Eddie couldn’t believe he was actually considering this, but it was hard to deny how intrigued he was to learn more about Steve. Even if it didn’t lead to any answers about what had happened to him.

“You know what? Fuck it. Let's do it.” Eddie declared, slamming his now empty cup down on the table for emphasis.

“Language! I am a child!.” Dustin gasped, in a dramatic impersonation of his mother.

“Shut it, nerd.”

“You literally play D&D with children! Who’s the nerd now?!”

Eddie had never really had a full conversation with Nancy. They said hi in passing, and whenever he came to the house to play with the boys of course, but that was the extent of it. Now he was supposed to sit here in the Wheeler’s basement, like it was any other day, and talk to her about her ex boyfriend. Awkward.

Or, maybe not.

According to Dustin, Nancy knew all about their game, including how she, Steve, and many others were used as characters in it. She understood their curiosity. She herself had always thought that there was something suspicious about the whole thing. That maybe there was more going on in Hawkins than a single missing boy.

“Do you remember the day in the cafeteria, when Steve got into that screaming match with Tommy and Carol?”

Eddie shook his head. “No, but I heard it was brutal.” He’d skipped out early that day to meet up with Rick for more product. The whole school was buzzing about it the next day, he could have kicked himself for missing the show.

“It was. I was shocked. I had never seen him act like that. I know he and I hadn’t been together that long, so I could be wrong, but It seemed so out of character. I mean, everything he said was true, and those two probably deserved it, but the three of them had been best friends for years. He never stood up to them before, so why now? It felt like it came out of nowhere.”

She paused, taking a breath and gathering her thoughts before continuing.

“I remember him looking at me, just before he stormed off when it was all over. He didn’t look mad, it was more like.. I don’t know, scared, maybe?”

Well, that was a little ominous. Eddie and the younger boys shared a look as Nancy got up from her seat on the couch and started pacing.

“He called me later that night and asked me to come over so we could talk. When I got there, he stepped out onto the porch instead of letting me come inside. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but looking back, it was a little odd. We sat on the steps and he said that he was sorry, but he couldn’t see me anymore. I asked him if there was someone else, but he said no. He just wanted to be single for a while and concentrate on other things. It was fine. I don’t think either of us were too upset about it. We hugged and said our goodbyes, and that was the last time I spoke to him.”

She stopped pacing, standing directly in front of Eddie as she finished her story.

“I still saw him around, of course, and heard about how he quit the school teams. Which seemed weird, because, what was this more important thing he was focusing on? Clearly it wasn’t sports. Then he started skipping school, so it wasn’t about his grades either. I started to wonder if maybe he had gotten into drugs or something.”

Or, he could have just been lying to let you down easy, Eddie thought, but that wasn’t very kind. Instead he said, “If he was, he wasn't getting them from me.”

Dustin gasped. “Wait, dude, are you really a drug dealer?”

Fuck. “Um. No?”

“You are! You’re totally a drug dealer!” Dustin said, bouncing in his seat and pointing a finger in Eddie’s face.

Eddie groaned. “Please stop yelling ‘drug dealer’ before Mike's parents hear you and kick me out!”

“Does that mean you smoke pot?” Lucas asked.

“Can we smoke pot?” Mike added quickly, grinning.

“Absolutely not!” Eddie and Nancy shouted, simultaneously.

He turned to her, hands raised. “For the record, I don’t sell anymore. Not since my supplier went to jail.”

Dustin’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh shit, is Reefer Rick a real person?”

Nancy gave Eddie a hard look.

“What?! We all used people from our life in the game!” He said defensively. “Look, guys, I think we’re getting off track here.”

“Is there anything else weird you remember about Steve from before he disappeared?” Will asked Nancy, speaking for the first time. Eddie threw him a grateful smile.

“Not that I can think of.”

“What about his parents?” Lucas asked.

“I never met them, but he always said his dad was an asshole. The way he talked sometimes, it sounded like they weren’t around a lot.”

The image of it flashed in Eddie’s mind for a moment. Steve, all by himself in that big empty house of his. Haunting its hallways in the middle of the night. He shook his head roughly to clear it.

Maybe it was silly to think of it that way. What teenage boy wouldn’t love having the house to himself? No one hassling you or telling you what to do. He couldn’t explain why, but somehow he didn’t think Steve liked being alone.

Eddie was startled when Nancy placed a hand on his arm. She looked at him, face pinched with concern. He realized suddenly that they were alone. He’d been so lost in thought that he didn’t realize the boys had left. She saw him looking around and explained.

“I sent the boys upstairs for lunch. It looked like you needed a minute.”

“Yea, sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.” He got up to collect his things, and headed towards the basement steps.

“It’s the time of year. I get it, I've been thinking about him a lot too.” She said, following him.

Eddie shook his head. It wasn’t the same, she was allowed to think about Steve. To miss him. What right did Eddie have? “That’s different. You dated the guy. We weren’t even friends.”

“You’re allowed to miss him, Eddie.”

“No, I'm not.”

“He thought you were brave, y’know.”

“What?” He stopped walking, but couldn’t bring himself to turn around to face her.

“He told me once, the first time I sat with him for lunch. You had jumped up on your table, ranting and raving about whatever had bothered you that day.” She sounded amused at the memory. “Tommy and the others sneered and complained, but not Steve. He smiled as he watched you. He said, ‘sometimes I wish I could be brave like that. Just stop caring about what everyone else thinks and be free’.”

He finally looked back at her over his shoulder. She smiled at him kindly, it seemed genuine so he returned the gesture.

“Thanks, Wheeler.”

Eddie didn’t stay to join the boys for lunch, though he did make plans to meet up with them the next day. He needed some time alone to process what they’d learned so far. He did his best thinking in the van, so he drove around town aimlessly, blasting Metallica and trying to sort through it all.

Eventually he made his way to Loch Nora, slowing when he reached Steve’s street. He’d never been inside the Harrington house, but he knew where it was. There was no car in the driveway, so he rolled to a stop in front of it. A ‘For Sale’ sign was stuck in the grass a few feet to the right of the mailbox.

He hadn’t realized Steve’s parents were selling the place. Good, Eddie thought. It would make his next task that much easier. He’d come up with a plan, of sorts, as he cruised around Hawkins. The first step? A good old fashioned breaking and entering.

*Steve - 1983/1984*

Two days after finding Eleven out in the woods, Steve cut ties with all his friends. He made a big scene out of calling Tommy and Carol assholes in the middle of the cafeteria, to really drive the point home. He turned himself into a social pariah overnight, anything to keep people from wanting to get close to him.

He let Nancy go. It was easy enough. He found that he wasn’t even all that upset about it, he knew she wouldn't be too sad either. He’d seen how she looked at Jonathan that day at school, when the news broke that Will was missing. They would get together before too long, he was sure of it.

He quit the swim team, basketball, and only continued going to school because dropping out would be too suspicious. He started skipping days a lot.

Eleven, who he’d taken to calling El for short, needed her own space. He would have loved to decorate the guest room for her, would have let her paint the walls and everything. Unfortunately, his parents still came home on occasion, and it would be too hard to hide. Instead, they worked together to fix up a space for her in the attic. Even when they were home, his parents never went up there.

He didn’t know anything about little girls, but neither did El, so they figured things out together. He set her up with a T.V. to keep her company when he was gone during the day. He gave her a bunch of catalogs to look through, and told her to take a marker and circle anything she liked. Clothes, bedding, curtains, toys, he bought it all. Perks of the Harrington name, and a credit card with a high spending limit.

By the time her attic room was done, she finally felt secure enough to sleep in her own bed. She felt safe in the knowledge that her new brother wouldn’t abandon her as she slept, or lock her inside. Sometimes though, he would wake up to find she’d come into his room in the middle of the night. Almost always when it rained.

They quickly became a little family, he and El. Steve didn’t have any siblings, hadn’t thought he even liked kids, and certainly never knew how much he wanted a little sister until she came along. He taught her what he knew about the world, and in return he learned the importance of patience and kindness. Together, they discovered unconditional love.

For a few wonderful months, life was good. There was a little hiccup in January of ‘84, when eleven accidentally knocked a vase off the counter in the kitchen. It was fine. She caught it with her mind before it hit the floor, then levitated it back upright on the counter. It was the first time she’d used her powers in front of Steve. Powers he had been completely unaware of.

He’d hyperventilated for a while, but once he recovered he explained to her that, ‘No sweetie, I didn’t know you could do that, but it’s fine. I promise. No, I'm not afraid of you. It’s just another part of you, and I love who you are.’

It was another turning point for them, a catalyst that compelled her to explain more about where she came from. What sort of things they did to her at the lab, and she finally told him all about Papa and the other children.

Steve had never pushed her on any of it, happy to just keep her safe, and wait until she was ready to talk. Once she did? Well, he was fucking livid. It was all he could do not to go to the newspapers, or Chief Hopper, and blow the whole thing wide open. Hell, he would have found the place himself and burnt it to the ground if he didn’t know for a fact that there were other kids living inside.

In the end, he did nothing. Too afraid that if he was caught, or worse, there would be no one who knew about El, or where she was. There would be no one to take care of her.

It was all his fault. He should have known better. It was his job to take care of her, and he had failed in that task spectacularly. It was spring break 1984, Easter Sunday. He’d just wanted to take her out to breakfast, something he could remember doing with his own parents for the holiday when he was young. Back when they at least pretended to give a shit about him.

They were as safe about it as they could have been. He picked a small restaurant two towns over, where no one would recognize them. She looked so happy when she smiled at him over her massive stack of waffles.

He didn’t see it for what it was, when the two nondescript white work vans pulled into the parking lot of the diner. Movies had him envisioning a legion of fancy black town cars pulling up on him one day, a swarm of dark suits surrounding him, demanding to know where the girl was. He should have known that Papa would be a bit more subtle.

The bell above the main entrance door dinged as a new customer entered. El looked up reflexively at the sound and her eyes went wide. It was the only warning Steve had before a tall man with white hair and an impeccably tailored gray suit slid into the booth next to him.

“Hello, Eleven. You’re looking well.”

Steve watched as she curled in on herself. Turning back into the little girl he found in the woods right before his eyes.

“Papa.” She gasped, bottom lip trembling.

The man turned to look at Steve. “I’m Dr. Brenner. Now, don’t go getting any big ideas, young man. I have people on every door to this place. You’ll never make it to that pretty car of yours in time, and I can assure you that if you try, they will not hesitate to... deal with the situation.”

Steve froze, not remotely prepared for this scenario. He didn’t know what to do and was scared of making a misstep. He wasn’t afraid for himself, he didn’t care what happened to him, but he was terrified for El, and the possibility of losing his sister forever.

“Here’s what's going to happen.” Brenner continued. “Eleven is going to leave this place with me, right now. You, Mr. Harrington, yes I know all about you, are going to go back to your life and forget that any of this ever happened. If you so much as think about telling anyone what you’ve seen, we will know, and we will come for you.”

“I’m not going to just let you take her.” Steve protested, heart pounding.

“You don’t have a say in the matter.”

“If you take her then you’ll have to take me too!” Steve raised his voice a little too loudly, drawing the attention of the other diners.

“That’s not an option.” Brenner hissed. “I have no need for someone like you”

Steve lowered his voice to a whisper, knowing that angering the man further wasn’t going to help. “I’m not leaving her. I’ll die first. You’ll have to kill me right here and now in front of all these people. Do you really want to make that big of a scene?”

Steve could tell the man was considering it. “Please.“ He begged. “I'm sure you can find some use for me. I’ll do anything.”

Brenner sighed. “Very well. You will both follow me outside. Leave your car keys on the table, Steven, you won’t be needing them.”

The man slid out of the booth, threw more cash than necessary on the table, and walked out the door.

Steve scrambled out of his seat at the same time El did, and they collided in a desperate embrace. She was shaking, crying. Steve ran his fingers through her short curls.

“I'm sorry El, I'm so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

She looked up at him, blinking through tears. “It’s not your fault, they would have found me eventually, one way or another.”

“I’ll get us out of this somehow, I promise.”

She took a small step away from him and shook her head. “No, Steve. You have to let him take me. Only me. You have a life, parents, a family.”

He shook his head, taking her small hand in his. “You are my family El. I’m not leaving you. We’re in this together. You and me, always.”

Chapter 3

@penny00dreadful @buckleybarnes @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @goinsteddie @brbsoulnomming @the-s-is-silent @paintsplatteredandimperfect @estrellami-1 @herebedragons404 @epiclazershark @iaminmultiplefandoms @adaed5 @mentallyundone @hardboiledleggs @hotshot9 @manda-panda-monium

#steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #ao3 #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #fanfic #ao3 link #life is a game #Canon is just a crazy game of D&D #alternating pov #Eddie Munson and Dustin Henderson are cousins #Steve Harrington and Eleven taking care of eachother

205 notes · View notes

hard-core-super-star · 11 months

Note

Hi! Could you write reader having a bad day and all they want is hailee but she’s filming for something. Then hailee surprises reader by taking off early and it’s just really fluffy. Hailee comforts the reader and uses a lot of pet names :)

coming up for air [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: when you're drowning under the weight of your thoughts, hailee is the life jacket that keeps you afloat.

warnings: so much fluff; mentions of anxiety (but nothing overly specific or graphic); petnames for days; abrupt start + slightly cheesy ending; too many drowning/storm metaphors

wordcount: 1.6k

a/n: i'm sorry this took so long but i hope it's everything you wanted and more! this was actually really soothing to write for me so i hope it does the same for you. [don't hesitate to send in more requests, btw!]

* * * * * * *

You lay in bed staring at the ceiling above, your thoughts moving faster than you can begin to comprehend. You’re not sure what’s wrong but you are sure that the way your heart is racing isn’t normal. It’s like you’re powerless against a growing wave of anxiety that keeps building with every second that passes.

The fact that you’re alone isn’t helping in the least but your girlfriend is busy shooting another collaboration with Core and you don’t want to interrupt her work. She’s been so excited about the opportunity and the last thing you want to do is ruin it by being clingy. So, against your common sense, you decide to stick it out by yourself, convincing yourself that you are more than capable of beating the storm of thoughts by yourself.

That is definitely easier said than done, considering how overwhelmed you feel already. A few minutes go by before the thundering silence of the room is interrupted.

You almost jump out of your skin when you hear the familiar sound of your phone ringing. You immediately recognize the ringtone as Hailee’s and your heart drops down to your stomach.

If you were feeling like your normal self, you would be filled with excitement at the idea of getting to talk to your girlfriend. Instead, you’re filled with a sense of dread and anxiety as you begin to rack your brain for the excuses you’ll need for your girlfriend’s inevitable questions.

You sit up in bed and hesitate for a few seconds before grabbing your phone. A loud sigh escapes your lips before you gather your courage and answer the FaceTime call from your girlfriend. “Hi, Haiz. How’s the shoot going?”

You hope she’ll go into detail about her day so you don’t have to talk about yours or the storm of doubt raging through your head.

“It’s going great!” She replies, an excited grin on her face. “Everyone’s been so nice and the pictures all look amazing. I can’t wait for you to see the finished product.”

You give her the most authentic smile you can muster. “I’m glad to hear that, babe.”

A beat of silence goes by while her eyes look you over. You already know what she’s going to say before she opens her mouth. “What’s wrong?”

“Can’t a girl just miss her girlfriend?” You say while you turn your head to the side a little in an attempt to hide the deception behind your words.

“Baby, why are you lying to me?" Her eyebrows furrow, clearly not believing you.

"I'm not," you reply, willing your voice not to crack. "I'm just tired."

She doesn’t immediately reply and you feel far too exposed as her brown eyes stare right through you and your unconvincing lies. Even over the phone, Hailee is far too good at reading you. “Listen, you can tell me whatever it is that’s bothering you. I’m always here for you, y/n.”

Any other day, her words would be reassuring but today, they make all sorts of insecurities rise up within you. You’re not sure why pushing Hailee away seems to be the best idea to your overwhelmed brain but you don’t have the strength to fight back against it.

“I know, Haiz. But I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me, I know you’re busy.” Your voice holds more exhaustion than bitterness but you can tell your words hurt her just the same. You feel the guilt rise up within you at the sight and the only thought in your mind is leaving before you make everything worse. “I’m going to go take a nap, okay? Call me if you need something.”

You don’t give her a chance to reply, your thumb pressing the red ‘end call’ button almost as soon as the words escape your mouth. Nothing about what you just did takes away the guilty feelings or the overwhelming sense of panic settled deep in your chest. If anything, they reinforce the doubts that won’t leave your brain alone.

You throw your phone somewhere on the bed before laying back down on your side. You’re not sure how much time you spend like that, curled up on your side and succumbing to the negative voices in your brain.

You’re so caught up in your own head, you don’t hear the sound of the door opening.

You do, however, notice the way the bed shifts and the arm that wraps itself around you. “Hi, baby.”

You almost break down crying just from the sound of her voice. A few seconds of silence go by as you try to regain control of yourself and your thoughts.

When you finally do speak, your voice comes out quiet and shaky. "You're back early."

"My girlfriend needed me," she replies as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

She doesn't say anything else but the arm around your waist tightens its hold on you and you can feel the soft kisses she presses to the back of your shoulder. She doesn't need words to comfort you and with every kiss she presses to your skin, the more weight that falls off your tense shoulders.

A long time goes by before she eventually speaks again. Her voice is barely above a whisper when she does. Almost as if she’s afraid of scaring you away. "What's wrong, love?'

You shrug, not fully able to put what you're feeling into words. It's like everything is wrong and yet nothing is wrong at the same time. Hailee waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts, her fingers gently running through your hair.

"It's just…everything is so…loud and heavy…" You trail off, frustrated at your inability to explain what’s going on with you.

Your girlfriend came back home early for you and you can’t even give her a good explanation why. You’re just wasting her time.

Like always.

The brunette speaks up, almost as if she knows exactly the kind of thoughts that are running through your head. “It’s okay, baby. I know what you mean. You don’t have to worry, alright? I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. You can already feel the tears filled with burning shame gathering in your y/e/c eyes.

“Don’t apologize.” Her tone has a firm edge to it even though it remains soft. “It's okay not to be okay sometimes, y/n.”

“But it's so stupid-” You take in a shaky breath as your voice cracks under the weight of it all. “I made you come back early and I don't even know what's wrong.”

“Baby, baby, listen to me: you didn't make me do anything. I did it because I wanted to. Because you're important to me.” The kisses to your shoulder make a comeback, the touch of her lips against your overheated skin helping to ground you a little. “You're the most important person in my life. Don't doubt that, okay?”

You let out a little hum to let her know you heard her but you don’t respond with anything else, your brain already getting to work on contradicting your girlfriend’s words. Your thoughts are moving at lightning speed, each one louder and more intense than the last.

You don’t realize you’re shaking until Hailee speaks again, her voice as soft as ever.

“y/n? Can you turn around for me, darling?”

You let out a little groan at the question. The thought of turning around and facing those soft brown eyes of hers seems almost impossible to fulfill right now.

Hailee’s fingers draw random shapes on your arm while you gather yourself. It takes a few more seconds before you give in to both her wishes and your need for reassurance.

Her hold on you loosens while you turn around to face her and you feel incredibly small as her eyes look down at your face. You don't know where the sudden burst of insecurity comes from but you do know its effects are clear on your features.

"It's okay, darling. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere." She grabs one of your hands and places it on her chest, right on top of her beating heart. “You feel that? As long as I’m alive, this heart will always beat for you.”

“What about after life?” You ask, the ghost of a smile on your lips as you reference her song.

Her eyes seem to glow at your words. “I’ll stay yours even when my heartbeat stops, baby. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” she replies with a small nod. “I love you, y/n. Nothing will ever change that.”

She leans down to press a soft kiss onto your forehead while you keep your hand on her chest, using that touch to bring yourself out of your thoughts and into the present moment.

Hailee keeps up the soft kisses, slowly moving down your face while you focus on your breathing. She doesn’t rush you in any way as she goes. The silence between the two of you continues for a while until you eventually manage to gather yourself again.

“Thank you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, the exhaustion clear in your voice.

She leans back a little with a small smile on her face. Her eyes search your expression for any lingering signs of anxiety as she speaks. “You don’t have to thank me, love. Are you feeling better?”

You hum in reply. “Yeah…I don’t…know what that was about.”

“That’s okay, baby.” She gives the tip of your nose a quick kiss, unable to hide how happy she is that you’re okay again. “I’m just glad you made it back to me.”

“Always.” You offer her a shaky smile before you scoot forward a little, your head slotting itself underneath your girlfriend’s chin. She holds you close and your eyes flutter shut as you’re filled with a deep sense of peace. A feeling you haven’t had all day. “I love you, Lee.”

She lets out a soft sigh, her eyes falling shut as well. “I’ve got you, y/n. And I’m never letting go.”

#hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld x female reader #hailee steinfeld x y/n #hailee steinfeld x you #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfeld fanfiction #hailee steinfeld fluff #hailee steinfeld #kate bishop #marvel #mcu #wlw #wlw fic #writing

197 notes · View notes

altruistic-meme · 1 year

Note

Am I the only one who actually likes Marcus in the beginning? Like I thought "oh he seems like a nice dude I want Simon to be with wille but this isn't so bad ig" and then when Simon tried breaking up with him his response????? Was so WEIRD? like it just felt off to me that he refused to hear Simon and just went on saying that they should still be together and brought up his dad. Like that was weird as hell. Maybe I'm wrong but if someone's breaking up with you you should just ... Accept it? And let them? It's one thing to try and convince them to stay bc you're so heartbroken, which is acceptable, but with Marcus it felt like different, like he was lowkey being manipulative. It felt like he wasn't listening to Simon at all. And I mean I'm not blaming him for Simon cheating on him with wille but dude you know this guy doesn't really wanna be with you lmao what did you expect

hello anon i love you.

Trust me, you are NOT alone! This was literally my exact reaction as well. I actually kind of like Marcus at the start, and then during that argument my opinion completely flipped. Because you are very right: it was pretty manipulative of Marcus, and it wasn’t the only time he exhibited that behavior either.

For the sake of “I’m not here to start drama”: I’m going to speak from personal experience and about my personal opinion on Marcus. I am always open to hearing other peoples thoughts on this as well, if you agree or disagree, just please be respectful about it. I have been witness to two different, incredibly manipulative relationships. I’ve done quite a bit of research because of this. So that’s where I’m coming from.

Now, you sent me this right before my first rewatch of s2 which means i was paying lots of attention to Marcus when i watched it and I definitely took notes for this so let’s go!

Episode 1 (around 37:00): my first red flag in Marcus’ behavior was how he was pretty instantly overly-friendly and familiar with Simon despite the fact they’d only had 2 interactions. He greeted him with a hug, kept getting very close to him, and was hanging off of him during karaoke. Which isn’t always a red flag, because sometimes people are just Like That, but I still think it’s worth noting considering his later behavior. It just rubs me the wrong way that he is putting himself into Simon’s space so quickly.

Episode 3 (around 22:40): the actual argument that you mentioned

Like you, I was perfectly fine with Marcus until this scene. I got bad feelings pretty early on.

Simon tells Marcus that he “isn’t ready for anything serious” and Marcus tells him that it’s okay, but then proceeds to immediately twist the situation in his favor. He pretends to accept what Simon says to begin with so that Simon won’t just shut down, but he does still put up arguments.

“I’m not like [Wille] … I won’t hurt you.” Bad Sign Bad Sign Bad Sign. Saying that he isn’t like Wille to catch Simon’s attention and to build trust. Simon’s trust in Wille is broken, and Marcus seems to understand that, so he’s using Wille as a gateway to establish a trust that he would otherwise have to earn.

Simon basically telling him “that’s not what it’s about, it’s not about you, I just can’t do this now” was another chance for Marcus to step back, but instead he continues to push the issue.

Him bringing up Micke was a trick as well. Telling Simon that he doesn’t really understand how relationships should look gives him free wiggle room. Because it makes Simon lose trust in his own judgment, and now he will look to Marcus to see if what they are doing is good and healthy.

TOUCHING HIS NECK during the conversation made me furious actually. It built a connection between them, something intimate, again to build Simon’s trust.

Reinforced by hugging him as well.

“I know you don’t want to destroy something this beautiful” is also a very bad sign. Because now he’s telling Simon that what they have is healthy and good, piggybacking off of the doubt he created earlier in Simon’s judgment.

“Let’s just take it slow” now he’s repeating this, telling Simon what his own terms are while actively ignoring Simon’s decision to end it.

And finally for this scene, he gives a “reward” for Simon’s agreement. He offers to go cheer Simon on at the competition.

Episode 4 (around 7:45): he expresses no interest in going to the ball, which is fine on it’s own, but it’s him shutting down what Simon wants immediately followed by proposing what he wants instead, to go to his house.

Also Episode 4 (around 36:00): last one, this one also is a huge thing imo. “[Wille] seems nice. He’s not at all stuck-up like when he was shooting with Felice.” this is a direct attempt to paint Wille in a bad light. It’s an attempt to make Simon believe that Wille was only nice to Marcus because Simon was there, and that he is entirely different - even rude - when Simon isn’t there to impress.

This is all to say that, whether it was intentional or not, I think Marcus was absolutely trying to manipulate Simon. So much of his behavior can kind of be waved away (“oh some people are just overly-friendly” “maybe Simon needed to hear that” “Wille did hurt Simon” etc) but also one of the major aspects of manipulation like this is that it can be easy to wave away. The person who is being manipulative doesn’t want to be clocked manipulating someone, it’s not supposed to be overt and noticeable. But it’s still there. In many little things and sometimes in a few bigger ones.

This was something I noticed on my first watch, and the rewatch only further cemented it in my mind. Do I think Marcus was all bad? No, absolutely not! But then again, neither are most manipulators. I did enjoy him as a character as well, and the actor did a wonderful job. But yeah. I don’t think he did Simon any good.

#so many thoughts so little time #i need to actually sleep today :')#this is probably only semi-coherent but it is what it is #i wanted to give you these thoughts while i still had them fresh #also most of the quotes are paraphrasing rip me i can only handwrite so fast #while ALSO trying to pay attention to the scene #anyway this is my opinion and while i am pretty solid in my belief of it i am open to hearing other's thoughts!#young royals #yr s2 spoilers #anon #askers #shh ac

428 notes · View notes

theteasetwrites · 2 years

Text

Reassurance

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 5 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT—thigh riding, rough sex, missionary, swearing ❧ Word Count: 5k

❧ Requested by anonymous (this request)

❧ Summary: You are reunited with family friends, the Monroes, and Spencer has always had an unrequited infatuation with you. When he confronts you about your relationship with Daryl, it leads to some self-doubt for the archer. Can he redeem himself?

❧ A/N: I saw an opportunity for jealous Daryl smut and I took it. It's not super dramatic jealousy, since Spencer is just being an asshole (I love how Spencer is the de facto character used for jealous Daryl stuff lol he's always getting shit on in fics but no one likes him that much so it's fine), but Daryl does get super insecure and wonders if he even deserves Reader, so I classify this as jealous Daryl. I packed a bit of fluff in here too so I hope y'all enjoy that. Oh, what a cute little possum he is...

What are the odds? you kept asking yourself, as though it even mattered at all. The odds were slim, of course, but it had happened regardless: somehow, you’d been thrown back into your old life, a life you thought you’d left back in Washington D.C.

Politics were never your strong suit, but it was in your family from day one. Your father was a renowned lobbyist at the capital, and your mother was a Virginia senator at some point, you didn’t care much to know the exact years. All you knew was that you wanted nothing to do with it, and that suddenly, you were being stared in the face by a woman you knew as a close family friend: Deanna Monroe.

“So, (Y/N),” she said, delicately swirling the red wine in her glass as she made eye contact with you, studying you across the dining room table in her house, the nicest one in Alexandria, you were sure. “How’d you like it here so far? I noticed Rick’s having you all stay in one house.”

You straightened your back to respond. You were always so intimidated by her, despite the fact you knew she had a liking towards you. At least, she did, at one point. “Yeah,” you sighed. “He’s just playing it safe… I like it here, though. It’s different, that’s for sure.”

“Not really,” replied Spencer, eying you from your right. You wished he’d stop looking at you the way he did, always as if expecting something from you. “It’s more or less like how it was before, I mean. But I guess, you were out there. It’s different out there.” He shoveled a forkful of salad into his mouth, crunching it sharply under his teeth.

“Well,” said Reg, thankfully saving you from having to speak directly to Spencer, “I’m sure you have some interesting stories. Some harder to tell than others, of course.”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “We were basically out there from the beginning. You all are lucky, having this place for so long.”

“Have you encountered other communities like ours?” asked Deanna.

“No,” you answered. “Nothing like this. We’ve come across communities, but they were hostile, or tried to take our resources. Those places are gone now… Messed with the wrong people.”

There was an air of warning to your voice, betraying the slight distrust you felt towards Alexandria. Of course, you knew Deanna and the Monroes, family friends as they were, but perhaps spending almost two years or so with a target on your back, along with the rest of your group, made you a little less willing to trust than once before. It was hard to trust anyone these days, to be sure.

Spencer raised an eyebrow, with a slightly smug grin on his disturbingly handsome face. He looked more like a Ken doll than a human being, you always thought. Typical pretty boy, and very self-assured as a result. “Wouldn’t wanna mess with you, huh?” he asked. “You must be pretty good out there, fighting… walkers? That’s what you guys call them?”

“Yeah, walkers,” you said. “I’ve fought a lot… People, too. It’s what you have to do out there. Didn’t think in a million years I’d learn how to shoot a gun.”

“Especially considering your parents’ stance on the subject,” mused Deanna. “I remember your father lobbying for gun control back in the nineties. He was so passionate about it. Your mother, too.”

“So how did you learn how to shoot, anyway?” asked Spencer.

He knew what he was doing, of course. He had to have known.

Anyone could see the relationship you had with Daryl, the man who’d taught you everything you knew when it came to dealing with walkers, people, and other threats to your survival. Surely, Spencer must’ve known, too. The way Daryl had stepped in front of you that day, keeping you close to him as your group stepped through the gates of Alexandria for the first time, how he whispered tenderly into your ear, urging you to stay close to him for fear that something might happen to you in this unfamiliar environment… Indeed, Spencer must’ve known.

You shrugged as you took a sip of your wine. Liquid courage.

“Just sort of… figured it out, I guess,” you said with a light chuckle, as if that could deter Spencer, the guy who’d pretty obviously had a thing for you since you were teenagers, from asking you any more questions. “Comes in handy to know how to shoot a gun when there’s two dozen walkers surrounding you.”

“But your people helped, right?” Spencer asked.

“Of course,” you replied. “We protected each other. Like family.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow. “But I'm sure you are closer to some of them more than the others, though, right?”

“Spencer,” chided Deanna.

“What? Just making conversation… That, uh… Daryl guy, what’s he like?”

The wine must’ve emboldened him, as the Spencer you thought you knew was at least a little more subtle with his… attraction to you.

“He’s great,” you said. Of course, he was more than great; you loved him, but something told you Spencer knew that. “In fact, he’s sort of like Rick’s right hand man. He’d never admit it, but he’s invaluable to our group… He’s a good man.”

Spencer scoffed, about to say something before Deanna could stop him. “I’m sure. Spencer, why don’t you and Aiden fetch another wine bottle from the pantry? We’ll clean up and get dessert ready.”

Oh, thank God, you thought. You could take Deanna, but Spencer’s attitude was unbearable. Still, after dessert he had followed you onto the front porch, stopping you before you could leave.

“(Y/N),” he said, his hand grasping firmly around your wrist. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

You huffed. “Sure,” you said, though there was nothing you really wanted more than to get back to your family across the street, to get back to Daryl, who was having a difficult time adjusting to the new world you’d all stumbled into just hours ago. “I gotta get back, though.”

“Yeah. Gotta get back to your… What is he to you, anyway?”

“Spencer, I don’t want to—”

“No, (Y/N),” he interrupted. “After all the shit you put me through, I think I deserve an explanation.”

“An explanation? An explanation for what?”

He pushed closer, evidently angered by your supposed ignorance. “For why I was never good enough for you.”

You shook your head at the statement, though you had expected him to say something like that. He always liked being the possessor of an unrequited love. He seemed to play the part well, even if it frustrated him. You were certain he didn’t love you at all, but that he had been brainwashed by his mother into thinking that the two of you were a “match made in Heaven.”

You let the young man escort you to one debutante ball and suddenly you’re engaged to be married in the eyes of every political family in your social circle, only you never saw him that way. Not in the slightest.

“I never said you weren’t… good enough for me,” you said. “Spencer, I’m just not interested in you in that way. I’m sorry.”

No matter how many times you had told him that in your life, it didn’t seem to get through to him.

“So you’re with some white trash, redneck loser now, right? That’s the kind of guy you’re interested in? Christ, (Y/N), I saw him gutting a possum earlier. It’s disgusting. I mean, I get you were out there for a while, but now that you’re here, you need to remember your worth. He’s not worthy of you. Not a guy like that, some dumb country bumpkin. You deserve better.”

His words sparked indignation, and hurt at the thought of Daryl being perceived in such a way. You knew in your heart of hearts that Daryl deserved you, that he was the perfect man for you, but it didn’t mean you weren’t hurt by what Spencer said, the way he belittled such a wonderful man who’d cared about you long before you developed an intimate relationship with him.

“How dare you,” you said, the words coated with disgust rising from the pit of your stomach like bile. “You don’t know him, and you certainly don’t know what he’s done for me and my group, so don’t you tell me what I do and don’t deserve because you don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

You turned to walk away, stepping down the porch steps until you reached the sidewalk, but Spencer quickly followed, spinning you around to face him as he forcefully held your wrist.

“Spencer,” you warned. “You better let me go.”

If you didn’t know Daryl was more than likely within close enough range to hear your screaming, you would’ve been much more frightened by that look in Spencer’s eye, but had you screamed, you were sure he’d be there in a flash, as he was known to do.

“I’m not letting go until you tell me why I’m not good enough for you and he is.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” you said. “Now let go of me, Spencer. If you don’t let me go I’ll scream bloody murder.”

He huffed and loosened his grip, and only let go completely when a much stronger grip held onto his shoulders, pulling him away from you with the swiftness of a whirlwind.

It turned out you didn’t even have to scream for Daryl to come to your rescue—he was already one step ahead.

“What the hell?!” barked Spencer, pushing Daryl away from him.

It only enraged Daryl more, pushing him to grab the younger man’s collar and jut his face forward until they were very nearly nose-to-nose.

Daryl’s reply was simple, and made even more gruff by the rage causing his nostrils to flare in righteous indignation. “Don’t touch ‘er,” he said. “Or I will knock your teeth out, you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he huffed. “Yeah, I hear you.”

“Good,” Daryl replied, pulling his collar tighter. “‘Cause I’m sure you don’t wanna have to tell everyone that some dumb country bumpkin beat you to a pulp, right? That’d be real embarrassing.”

Spencer swallowed hard and nodded, at this point willing to say anything to get Daryl to let go of him. “Sure, man,” he said. “Just let me go, huh?”

He relinquished his collar with a push as his eyes narrowed to a sharp point. “Go,” he growled. “‘Fore I change my mind.”

He gave you one last look before retreating back into the Monroe house, slamming the door shut to send an echo through the empty moonlight street.

“Hey,” said Daryl as he moved towards you slowly. “You okay? Did he hurt you?”

“No,” you said. “I’m fine… Were you watching us?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Got worried when you didn’t come back. Was waiting out here for ya.”

“Thanks,” you sighed. “I didn’t want you to hear all that, though. He said some awful things.”

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Don’t matter to me what that asshole thinks. Come on.” He held out his hand to you as he pivoted his body towards the direction of the house your group had been given by Deanna. “You should get some sleep.”

He’d already set up a little corner for the two of you in the living room, amidst the sleeping bodies of the others in your group, all of whom had agreed to sleep in the same room until you could all be sure Alexandria was safe.

You tiptoed around them, holding Daryl’s hand as he guided you closer to the sleeping bag.

He made sure you lowered yourself down into the warm fleece of the sleeping bag, and leaned down briefly to kiss you before standing back up, much to your dismay.

“Daryl,” you sighed. “Where are you going?”

“Keep watch.”

You scoffed. “You know that’s not necessary, right? There’s people on guard on the wall. You don’t have to do that anymore.”

“Better safe than sorry,” he replied. “You sleep now. I’ll be back soon.”

He’d usually never been this eager to leave you alone. As he turned to face the door, you realized something was bothering him, and you were sure it had to do with Spencer.

Of course, there was no way you’d be able to get Daryl to come to bed and talk about his feelings like you wanted him to, so you’d have to be a little more creative, drawing on his inability to resist you in order to get him within arm’s reach again.

“Dar,” you whispered sweetly into the air of the night. “Please… Don’t leave.”

He turned to face you, almost pouting with your sullen features. You already knew he’d be putty in your hands, based on the way his eyes softened.

“I need you,” you said, playing on the exact heartstrings you needed to. Besides, it was true: you needed him. “Just hold me, like you did back at the prison… Please?”

He trudged back over to you, gently leaning his crossbow against the wall before settling down beside you, tucking himself into the warm caress of the sleeping bag.

You immediately slotted your body against his, and though he let out a huff, you could tell his body was allowing itself to settle into yours, wrapping his arms right around you and resting his chin gently on your head as he rubbed your back beneath the warmth of the sleeping bag. The soft fleece insulated the bare parts of your skin, and the immense warmth from his body seemed to radiate all around you in your shared cocoon of comfort.

“Thanks,” you whispered. “I love it when you hold me, you know.”

Love holdin’ you, he thought, but his words were tangled up in the more oppressive thoughts of what Spencer had said, and nothing could come out but a short grunt of acknowledgement.

It occurred to him that he shouldn’t have been holding you, that perhaps it should’ve been someone like Spencer holding you, that he didn’t deserve to hold you, even if it felt so right, so good.

“Daryl?”

“Hm?”

You narrowed his eyes to get a better look at his features, illuminated by the soft light of the porch lantern pouring in gently through the slats of the blinds. Your fingers raised to tuck loose strands of silky brown hair behind his ears. He smirked in slight amusement at how intensely you focused on him.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked.

He was determined to circumvent the topic of discussing what was really on his mind, so instead he revealed to you the other topic weighing heavily on his mind, as usual.

“How damn beautiful you are,” he said. “And all mine, too.”

All his, but should you have been? Maybe you’d be better off with someone else.

“That’s sweet,” you said, tickling his skin as your fingertips delicately traced his jawline up and down. “But that’s not what you were thinking. Tell me… Is it Spencer?”

“Nah… It ain’t that.”

That was a lie, and you knew it, too.

“So what is it? And don’t tell me I’m beautiful again, even if I love to hear it from you.”

He huffed and shook his head, coming to terms with the fact that he couldn’t really keep anything from you. “It’s just… What he said, about how I don’t deserve you… How you should be with someone else… How you should be with him.”

“Daryl…”

It hurt so much to see how much he was hurting, how much Spencer’s words had affected him. It was odd, too. Daryl never cared much about what people said, so if what Spencer had said had gotten to him, it must’ve been pretty bad.

You snuggled closer against his chest to kiss his neck, where you nuzzled your head to tickle his skin with the ends of your hair. Your arms wrapped tight around him, keeping his body snug against yours to the point he couldn’t move even if he wanted to, and he certainly didn’t want to.

Your embrace was so potent, and exactly what he needed to feel. He needed your reassurance that you loved him, that you needed him and no one else. Spencer or any other man could never feel the love you had in your heart. That was reserved for him and him alone, just as his love was for you and no other woman. Did he deserve your love? He could never be sure, but in this moment, he knew at least that he still had you.

“Don’t ever say that,” you said. “If anything, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. Everything you do for me, for everyone… You’re wonderful. Guys like Spencer are just jealous of how brave and selfless you are. He could never be anything like you, and that bothers him. It’s not even about me. Spencer doesn’t care about me, he just wants to… He wants to make me feel bad for turning him down back in the day. Get some kind of revenge. That’s all. And you know what? It’s not working. I’ll never regret turning him down. You are so much better than him in every way. No comparison. You’re perfect to me.”

As usual when you made him feel this way, he was rendered speechless. He couldn’t even think of the words to say, all he knew was what he felt, and what he felt was such a powerful beam of light streaming through him, manifesting itself in the most potent form of love he’d ever felt. Your words were more potent than anything he’d heard Spencer say that night, and they were enough to reassure him.

“You okay?” you asked, smiling softly as you tried to figure out exactly what he was thinking. He always had some inscrutable look upon his face. “Daryl—”

His lips came crashing down on yours, this time with more pent-up passion than usual as his hands quickly roamed down your sides, squeezing and caressing your curves he’d come to know so well. He found comfort in the familiarity of your body, how beautiful it felt under his hands and how pliable you were for him, always willing to let him lead you where he wanted.

His tongue slipped eagerly around your mouth, and his hands started rubbing you feverishly under the confines of the sleeping bag, desperate to touch every inch of you to the extent he could in this setting. You giggled into his mouth, trying to match his fervor by moving your hands all over his back and shoulders, then up to his head to tangle your fingers in his silky brown mop of long hair. He growled at the feeling, secretly hoping you’d pull his hair just a little, to show how desperately you wanted him.

It’d been so long since the prison, when he made love to you last. Now, in the aftermath of your heartfelt words, all he wanted was to show you just how much he loved you, too. If he couldn’t vocalize it, he’d demonstrate it. He’d rip those gorgeous moans and sultry whimpers from your sweet lips until your vocal cords were shot. He’d get his hands wet with your arousal until his fingertips wrinkled like raisins. He’d ride your body into oblivion, so in the morning you might be a little sore from his weight on top of you. He’d let you touch and kiss and lick him like you owned him, and you did. You owned his mind, body, and soul, and all he could think about in the wake of his insecurity was how much he needed to show you that.

When his body overtook yours, on top of you as his mouth devoured you, you felt his erection semi-hard against your thigh, and his grunts of passion soaked your tender lips in eagerness to feel more of his body. Still, you heard what seemed like bodies stirring nearby, reminding you that you were not alone, but surrounded by your group, as usual. They might have been asleep, but any sounds of passion the two of you would make would surely wake them, and embarrassment would turn your lovers’ embrace into one of slight shame.

“Mm, Daryl,” you moaned into his lips as you pulled him away by the cheeks. His lips still attacked yours, pecking them while you tried to get him to focus on your eyes instead of your mouth. “Baby, we can’t do this in here.”

He looked like he’d just been awoken from some strange, alien-abduction-induced trance, but his rationality quickly kicked in.

“Yeah,” he huffed. “Where can we do it?”

You laughed, amused by his desperation. “Well, um… There’s a bedroom upstairs? Nice big bed… More private… How’s that sound, stud?”

Once he had you in that room, he wasted no time in unbuckling his belt, watching you pull off your shirt with intense interest. Your bra flew somewhere into the darkness of the room, while his pants and underwear hung around his ankles, dragging on the floor as he moved to grab your waist.

He pulled you in for another kiss while your hands grasped at his semi-hard cock. You pulled on his length gently, but with enough strength to elicit a deep, guttural growl from his mouth that poured directly into yours.

As you massaged his cock, warm and beginning to throb, he yanked at your pants to remove them until they hung around your ankles, along with your panties, nearly soaked through already.

“Come ‘ere,” he said, gesturing to his bare thigh. “Rub yourself on me.”

He didn’t wait for you to move on your own, instead taking one of your legs and wrapping it around his back, and forcing your bare crotch to rest on his bent thigh.

You wasted no time in doing as he asked, moving your hips back and forth in a sensual rhythm until your clit felt the pressure of the friction. Skin on skin gave way to pleasure, and an intense tingling just barely beginning to build up in your core.

“Oh,” you moaned into his lips. “Dar…”

His lips ghosted over yours as he watched you writhe and wriggle on his thigh, your naked body held and supported by his. Your hands clinged to his shirt while you hugged him tight, demanding his closeness as your pleasure got closer and closer to taking over.

“That’s right,” he whispered as he tugged on his cock. “You like that, don’t you? I know what you like, sweet thing.”

His breath tickled your neck and sent you into a delirious state of giddiness as you giggled between moans. “Mhm… My perfect man…”

You lowered your hand now, removing his from his cock and demanding your own time with it. You pulled up and down, back and forth as your body grinded against him. His hands now held your lower back to keep you steady, and to increase the pressure on your clit as he manually rubbed your core on his thigh.

“Don’t stop,” you moaned. “Please don’t stop… Daryl…”

“I won’t stop,” he panted. “You gotta come real good for me… Right on my thigh. You gonna come, sweetheart? Just for me?”

“Y-yes.” Your eyes closed tightly as you concentrated on the shocks reverberating through you, getting closer and closer to the most intense burst of pleasure. Your body rutted faster against his thigh, and soon you couldn’t tug on his cock anymore as your orgasm came at full speed. “Oh, God! I’m coming…”

Your body became tight and clenched, and yet loose and shaky all at once. You tucked your head right into the crook of his shoulder to ride out your orgasm, humping his thigh as each pulse seemed to become even more intense.

If you weren’t in such a state of bliss, you might’ve noticed Daryl’s fingers inside you now, feeling the clenching of your twitching walls squeeze his digits in the most beautiful way.

He pulled his fingers back and forth, each time going deeper and deeper until he was so tightly wound up inside you that you could feel his fingertips in your lower abdomen, penetrating your deepest point.

“Ah!” you moaned, laughing in slight delirium at the feeling. “Oh, yes… Yes, that was so good…”

But it wasn’t anything compared to his cock, you knew. He pushed you forward once he couldn’t feel your twitching anymore, and tugged off his vest and shirt until he was fully naked, a gorgeous specimen of a man with broad shoulders and the most beautiful, sweaty chest you’d ever seen. His hair was disheveled and shagged out all over his face, but even through those unkempt strands of deliciously dark hair, you could see the sheer lust in his narrowed, penetrative eyes.

Those eyes gazed over your body, draped lazily over the edge of the bed as you, too, eyed him, that perfect man of yours.

Your breasts heaved, as you were still winded from your intense orgasm. Your legs spread apart slowly, giving you enough space to touch yourself, sloppily circling your clit with your fingers as you daydreamed about him, despite how close he was to you. Just not feeling his touch was enough to make you miss him.

His eyes lowered to your engorged, open pussy, dripping with the evidence of your arousal while you humped your enthusiastic hand. He touched himself, too, but it wasn’t going to be able to match the real thing.

“Oh… Fuck me, Daryl,” you groaned, almost in agony at how badly you needed him inside of you. “Please. Fuck me so good, the way only you can.”

He could never say no to you. Well, not that he wanted to.

He quickly straddled your waist and brought his cock to your entrance. After just a few moments of teasing you, trailing his tip along your slit, he couldn’t handle it anymore. He spat on his hand to lubricate his sensitive shaft before plunging into you, quickly meeting your hilt.

His arms stretched up to hold yours above your head, pinned to the mattress as he began to ride you, fast and hard and without a semblance of a break between intense, blissful thrusts.

You didn’t mind the pace, though, not when each thrust filled you perfectly as far as his cock could go, and hit the most amazing spots inside you. As another orgasm began to form, Daryl watched your supple breasts bounce with each powerful thrust he delivered, and that was nearly enough to send him over the edge, until you came again, and the clenching of your pussy around his throbbing cock began to milk the start of his orgasm.

He pulled out swiftly and moved off of you and back, letting go of your hands so you could pull his length to finish.

Still in the throes of your second orgasm, you leaned forward to eagerly stroke him as your sensitive body rode out your high, complete with intense whimpers and moans of pleasure.

“Oh, shit,” he grunted. “I’m gonna come.”

You angled his cock towards your breasts as spurts of white exploded from his tip, a great heavy load that coated your breasts in droplets of warm cream. He was quick to push you back, pressing his lips to yours as he rubbed the cum all over your soft, gorgeous breasts, gently pinching your nipples all the while.

You laughed into his mouth, and he laughed, too, a strange occurrence for the usually serious man, but sex (and you) brought out the less serious side, the one that could forget about petty words spoken by unrequited lovers.

Sweat and cum pooled between your chests as he laid over you, kissing your face at every possible angle until he reached your lips again, pouting and raw from all his attention.

“Feel better now?” you laughed.

“Yeah,” he sighed against your cheek before kissing you there once more. “I needed that… Reassurance.”

You smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Reassurance for what?”

“That I deserve you,” he said, almost ashamed of his insecurity.

You tilted your head and smiled sweetly in understanding. “Of course you deserve me. You deserve anything that makes you happy. I just… hope I make you happy, Daryl. That’s all I want to do.”

Funny, that’s all he wanted to do, too—make you happy.

“You make me so happy,” he said. “You’re everything to me.”

“Ditto,” you giggled as you made an attempt to fix his disheveled hair. “Thank you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

You shrugged, almost bashfully. “Screwing me.”

He scoffed. “Don’t gotta thank me. Couldn’t wait any longer. Was about to get blue balls.”

“Mm,” you hummed in amusement. “No wonder you were so grumpy.”

“Pfft… Yeah, well had I been any worse I might’ve beaten that prick to death for touchin’ you. Don’t care whose son he is.”

You bit your lip, amused as you watched him pontificate. “You’re kind of cute when you’re jealous, Dar.”

He rolled over and shook his head as he looked up at the ceiling, slightly smirking. “Ain’t jealous of no one. ‘Specially not that douchebag. Tell ya what, possum might be white trash but it’s damn good when you ain’t had anythin’ else in almost two years.”

You laughed and turned on your side to snuggle into his chest. “Are you my little possum, Daryl?” you cooed teasingly. “My amazing, white trash possum? Possums are so cute…” Your hand lowered to his belly to tickle his soft skin.

“Stop it, woman,” he scolded half-heartedly, with a hint of a laugh at the feeling of your tickling. “I ain’t a damn possum.”

“Oh, but I like possums. Can you be a possum for me, please? You know, they’re very tough, resilient animals. They play dead, so they’re smart and sly. They’re also adorable, like I said. I think you’re a possum.”

“And you’re a pain in my ass… But I love you.”

“I love you, too, possum.”

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Masterlist

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fic #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd fanfic #twd #twd fanfiction #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus x reader

1K notes · View notes

ya-zz · 10 months

Note

If you have the time of course and are comfortable, could you write something about Ramattra with someones who like despises themselves, not just their body but their personality and everything? Thank you so much <3.

Quickly uploading this before a meeting - thank you so much for requesting! ♥ Love a soft Ramattra

Ramattra x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1522

Ramattra, being the observant omnic he was, noticed things when others did not. Slight changes in tone, body movements, eye contact - he saw the subtle changes. You, however, were an odd case, someone of which he hadn’t been around before.

He thought nothing of it at first. The self deprecating jokes were a little confusing for him at first to understand, but after awhile, he realised it was just a part of who you were. However, over time, he noticed you acting strangely. The jokes were a little more sensitive and he could hear the pain behind your voice as you spoke.

The others didn’t take note of it, or if they did, they didn’t say anything, but Ramattra knew. He just kept watching and listening, trying to figure out if it was all a part of some act. Only when a joke about yourself caused you to wince as you said it, did he realise that there was something deeper, something eating away at you.

Being a ravager, he didn’t have the best approaches, so he gave it time, waiting for a way in, one that wouldn’t bring attention to you or himself. If he had to wait days to be able to speak to you, then he was willing to wait that time. He was patient and he didn’t want to do anything you would be uncomfortable with but he also knew how unnerving it would be to just open up to him about anything that was going on, especially considering you hadn’t exactly spoken to him away from others.

You would always be with the group, friends of human and omnic alike, Ramattra sometimes next to you, sometimes across from you. His optics would scan you briefly, as if looking for something to hate, something hostile within you, but he couldn’t find anything. In fact, he started caring, listening to you more and noticing the way you acted. So when the jokes got more personal, more painful, he wanted to make sure you were ok.

As the laughter died down and people started parting ways, hugging and saying goodbye, Ramattra stayed behind with you, eyes locking with yours for a moment before you broke that contact.

“I should head back too, it’s getting late.” You say, taking a small step back.

“Allow me to walk you back.” Ramattra bows his head slightly.

“You don’t need to-”

“I insist.” He steps closer to you. “If I am being honest, I want to get to know you better.”

You nod, gesturing for him to walk next to you. “You gonna ask me out or something? I wouldn’t even date myself.”

“Why would you say that?” His head cocked to the side as he walks next to you.

The sudden question caught you off guard. “I- Well, who wouldn’t date me? I’m not exactly the best person.”

“Nobody is perfect.” Ramattra stated. “Including myself.”

“I know, never said I was. I’m far from it anyway.”

“How so?”

There was a silence as you kept walking, avoiding his question.

“[y/n]?” He places his hand on your shoulder, firm but not threatening. “What is going on?”

“What do you mean?” You keep your gaze away from him as you stop walking, his hand preventing you from taking another step.

“You have been acting rather strange lately.” His body turns to face you as he removes his hand, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable.

“I have? I haven’t noticed.”

“Yes, and I have noticed.” He pauses for a moment. “Tell me, what is weighing on you?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Another deflection.” He sighs.

“What?”

“You do that when people ask you what is wrong. I want to help.”

“Why?”

“Must you always question everything?” His optics look over you.

“Habit, I guess.”

“You have been spending to much time with that scientist.” He chuckles. “[y/n], I want to help- and don’t ask why.”

You look up at him. “You must have your reasons.”

“Yes. Is it wrong to help a friend?”

“No,” You take a moment to think. “I just- I never really had someone to talk to. It’s complicated.”

“Then tell me your complications. I will listen.” Ramattra notices the unease within you. “Perhaps we could go somewhere else to talk?”

“Sure. My room is just ahead, we can talk in there. Just, don’t mind the mess…” You smile awkwardly at him before walking forward, Ramattra following behind.

There was a silence around the pair of you as you walked, neither speaking up until the door opened and you walked in, Ramattra following you inside and closing the door behind him.

His optics scanned the room, taking in the decor. A quiet sigh escaped him, the room was very you and it matched you perfectly. The mess you had spoken about didn’t affect him in the slightest as he sat down on the sofa, waiting for you to join him.

After a moment, you did, sitting across from him, a slight anxiety running through your body as you faced the omnic.

“What is going on, [y/n]?” He asks, head tilting to the side. His sensors picked up the rise in heartbeat within your chest.

“I don’t know… How do I even start this?” You let out a nervous laugh, looking away. “Kinda feels like a therapy session.”

“I can assure you it is not a therapy session.” He chuckles alongside you. “You start however you would like. I will listen.”

This sounds exactly like a therapy session…

You stare at him, thoughts running through your mind.

Ramattra breaks the silence. “Perhaps you would prefer if I start?” His question gains a nod from you and he continues talking. “I have been around many different kinds of humans, back before the Monastery, during Null Sector and now here, but none of them have puzzled me quite like you.” He’s scanning you for some sort of discomfort and when he notices nothing has changed, he continues. “While it was confusing at first, I learned that it was just who you were. The joking about yourself, your… trauma I would assume. However, recently, I have noticed that there is a slight pain behind that.”

“You’re observant.”

“Always have been.” He goes to speak again, but your voice stops him.

“Why do you care?”

“Why do you keep deflecting help?”

“Suppose I never really had anyone care.”

“I do, and I want to help.” His tone is gentle, a slight hum of static alongside. “Do you hate yourself?”

“I-” Your eyes widen slightly at the bluntness. “Yes. Always have done.”

“Why? I see no fault with you.”

“I see all the faults with me.”

“There is nothing wrong with you.” He denies your claims. “You have no faults. You are not broken.”

“I feel broken.” A shaky sigh escapes you. “Have done for years… I’m not good enough for anyone. Won’t ever be.”

“If you keep thinking like that, then yes, you won’t be good enough for anyone.” He looks at you, noticing the hurt in your eyes. “However, I have seen the good side of you. The truthful side of you. Believe me, there is nothing wrong with you. You are not broken. You are human, a good human at that. Has someone made you feel this way, or is this just a self sabotaging thing you humans do?”

“I do it to myself…”

“Why?”

“Because then others can’t hurt me.”

“But you are only hurting yourself.” He pauses, thinking for a moment as he looks around the room until an idea strikes him. “Come here.”

He stands, holding out his hand to you. As you take it, he pulls you towards the mirror you had set up against the wall. Ramattra pulls you in front of him, hands resting on your shoulders as he makes you look at yourself.

“You know what I see when I look at you?”

Your eyes look up to him through the mirror as you shake your head.

“Someone who is strong, in both body and mind. I do not know of your past, I don’t necessarily need to, but I see someone who doesn’t entirely hate themself.” His hands gave your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “No matter what you say about yourself, it will not change my mind. All the jokes you make about yourself may gain a few laughs, but I see the pain.”

You stare at yourself, heart racing in your chest.

“You, [y/n], are unique. Do not listen to the thoughts inside of your head. You are better than that, you are far better than what the thoughts say.” He kept his tone low and gentle as he spoke to you. “Do not hate yourself, no matter the circumstances.”

He watched you through the mirror, noticing the small tears in your eyes.

“No matter what anyone says about you, know that I believe in you. I like you for who you are. You are a friend to me, no matter what is going on in your life, come to me. I will help.”

You nod, letting the tears fall.

“You are not broken.”

#ramattra #ramattra x reader #overwatch #overwatch ramattra #ow #fanfic #overwatch fanfiction #reader #ramattra x you #ramattra fanfic #overwatch 2 #ow2 #yazzfics

91 notes · View notes

mavsstar · 1 year

Text

｡･ﾟ𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔

Summary︱Andy's twin, Ransom, came into town for the holidays but hasn't left. The two of you have gotten particularly close. After Andy made you mad Ransom recommends a certain type of training to blow some steam off.

Pairings︱Ransom Drysdale x Virgin!Fem!Reader, Andy Barber x Virgin!Fem!Reader

W.C︱3.4k

Warnings︱It's Ransom, cursing, kissing, pet name: kitten, daddy kink, cheating, oral (m!), handjob,

Author's note︱This is part 2 to Oh Brother but you can read it without having to read Oh Brother. I hope you guys enjoy! Also thank you for the 3k :D Because it is valentine's day it is longer and pure fluff towards the end! Follow my side blog @mavsstars-garden!

Ransom always got what he wanted. New car? Got it. New watch? Got it. New one night stand? Got it. No matter the price, cash or morals, he always got what he wanted. There was only one thing Ransom truly wanted and was willing to work for.

You. Except Andy took you away from him.

Ransom had no morals. To him there was no wrong. It simply didn’t exist. He could easily take candy away from a baby and even be proud of it. He could stroll past a shelter of little puppies begging for a new home and he wouldn’t even bat an eye. The man was capable of cheating, lying, manipulation and so much more. Ransom had become such an amazing liar that you often can’t tell when he’s telling the truth and when he isn’t.

When he informed you about Andy’s infidelity, you half bought it, half didn’t. You wondered if he was telling the truth. After all they were twins and considering how close they are it would make sense they tell each other everything. Though Ransom didn’t directly say Andy told him. Unfortunately it still didn’t change the fact that he said it.

6 years ago

Ransom despised picking his cousin, Jacob Thrombey. It was nothing but a waste of his time. Jacob was the living reason he never ever wanted kids.

“Little shithead,” Ransom cursed as he looked down at his watch. Jacob should’ve been out already. Having waited long enough, Ransom stepped out of the car and shut the car door and walked towards the front doors.

Then you came out with Jacob in front of you. Ransom stopped in his tracks as he heard your voice. Jacob was on his phone, doing god knows what on it and completely ignoring you.

“Try to get the project in by Monday! It’s really important you get it in,” you told Jacob as he walked towards Ransom’s car.

“Mhm,” he hummed, uninterested in what you had to say.

“Have a great day!”

“Yeah, you too,” Jacob waved you off.

You turned to glance at Ransom, sending him a sweet smile and a wave. Ransom sent you his infamous smirk, lowering his sunglasses to send you a wink. Your smile turned into a bashful one as you walked away.

The sudden slam of a car door broke Ransom's trance. He whipped his head and saw Jacob had just gotten in the car, no doubt slamming the door.

“Hey! Don’t slam my door!” he exclaimed as he lightly jogged back to his car.

“Who was that?” Ransom asked after he got in the car. “Hello?” He asked after there was no response.

“That’s the substitute teacher for Mrs. Penny while she’s on maternity leave,” Jacob blankly answered.

“And…” Ransom trailed off, wanting to know more.

“She’s nice I guess, doesn’t make us do a lot of work,” Jacob replied, not peeling his eyes from his phone. “She’s single if that's what you’re wondering.”

The entire car ride Ransom thought about you. He wondered what your name was and why were you a substitute teacher? Why did you have to be such a hot substitute teacher? Oh what he would’ve given to be a fly in your room while you changed. After he dropped Jacob off, he immediately called his brother.

“Andy, you’ll never believe this.”

“Are you in trouble again? I already told you Ransom, I’m not going to-”

“No it’s not that!” Ransom cut Andy off. “I just saw the hottest woman today.”

“This is what you called me for?” Andy questioned, very unamused at this. “Seriously?”

“No you don’t understand,” Ransom began, “I picked Jacob off today and his hot substitute walked out with him. I can’t even begin to describe how she looks. I’ve found my future wife.”

Andy laughed as he shook his head. “Yeah right. You say that about every girl with a nice pair of tits you come in contact with.”

“I’m 100% serious Andy.”

Ransom and Andy have very distinct tastes for women, 99% of the women Ransom found attractive, Andy didn’t. Though the way his brother rambled about the woman, Andy’s intrigued. It couldn’t hurt to look. Right?

The next day he offered to pick Jacob up from school. He leaned against his car as he waited for him to walk out. Andy didn’t like picking him up either, Jacob liked to take his time and was always the last one to walk out.

When Andy heard the front doors open his head perched up. There you were, walking side by side with Jacob. There had only been a handful of moments where Andy was left speechless, this was number three on this list. His own body suddenly brought him closer towards you and he met you halfway. It felt like you were calling out to him, bringing him with an invisible rope you tied around his body.

“Hello!” you greeted Andy, shaking his hand while you said your name.

“Hello, I’m Andy Barber,” Andy eagerly repeated back. He couldn’t believe the beauty that was standing right across from him.

Rarely did Andy ever go after anything Ransom wanted, he always preferred to take a step back and let his brother enjoy it. This time was different. Ransom couldn’t have you, no. Not this time. Andy for once was being selfish.

“I hope this doesn’t sound too forward but what are you doing Saturday night?”

“What’s going on in your pretty little head?” You heard Ransom ask you as he tapped your head three times with his pointer finger.

“Nothing,” you mumbled.

“Really?” Ransom sarcastically questioned. “Because the popcorn was done 3 minutes ago and you’re missing your favorite part of the movie.”

“I’ve seen the movie a million times already, I can replay the scene in my head Ransom.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact that everytime you watch it you recite the entire scene word for word,” Ransom said. “You were thinking about Andy weren’t you?”

You remained quiet and bit the inside of your cheek. “What's wrong with that?” you questioned as you walked past Ransom to grab a bowl to pour the popcorn in. “He’s my fiance, I’m supposed to be thinking about him. It might be a surprise to you but when you’re in love you think about your significant other.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all flowers and cuddles and all that colorful bullshit,” Ransom waved off. “Lately you’ve been in a bad mood, Kitten. Does Andy have to do anything with it?”

“No,” you lied.

Ransom snuck up behind you and firmly pressed his front to your hack. His hands were placed at your sides, trapping you in. “What have I told you about lying to me, Kitten?” You could feel his breath fanning over your ear.

“You don’t like it when I lie.”

“Exactly, daddy doesn’t like it when Kitten lies to him now does he?”

“No,” you measly squeaked out. “I won’t do it again.”

“You’re such a good girl,” he cooed, placing a delicate kiss on the tip of your nose. “I’ll rewind the parts you missed, let's go.” His hand intertwined with yours as he was leading you out of the kitchen.

“Honey?!” Andy called out.

You immediately snatched your hand away from Ransom and took 3 steps away from him. If you weren’t so panicked you would’ve noticed the flash of disappointment on Ransom’s face. You missed the warmth of Ransom’s hand even if you only held it for a couple of moments.

“There you are!” Andy exclaimed when he entered the room, “I’ve been calling you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t hear you, I was watching a movie with Ransom,” you replied. You noticed he was in a suit he normally wore for certain occasions paired with the watch you gave him last year as a birthday gift.

“Why are you in your suit?”

“I got a call, there’s an emergency meeting.”

“An emergency meeting? At 7:45 pm on a Sunday?” you questioned with your head tilted to the side. “But you never work on a Sunday.”

“I know Honey, I’m really sorry,” Andy began to apologize, “but I really have to go.”

“But you promised-”

“I know I promised but,” Andy looked down at his watch and mumbled under his breath, “Fuck I’m going to miss the res-.”

“You’re going to miss what?” you asked Andy with your arms crossed around your chest. When Andy didn’t respond you asked again though you got no response again. “Andy, I asked you a question.”

“I’m really sorry again Honey,” he apologized again. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“What time will you be back?” you asked him yet another question, frustration building up inside you from him ignoring your questions.

“Don’t know but I really really have to go,” he quickly said. Andy placed a kiss on your temple, “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Andy?!” you exclaimed, following him to the front door but in response all you got was the door slamming shut. You quickly opened the door and stuck your head out. “Andy!”

“Bye!” Andy yelled as he frantically got in his car.

“This is great,” you exasperated as you came back through the door. You turned to look at Ransom, “I can’t believe he blew me off for work. Again.”

“You don’t actually think he had an emergency meeting do you?” Ransom asked you.

“Well….yeah,” you answered with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Oh Kitten,” Ransom sighed. He then patted the empty spot next to him on the couch, “c’mere.”

You silently obeyed and walked towards the couch. Just as you were about to sit down, Ransom pulled your hips and sat you right on his lap. “Ran!” You squealed, trying to leave his lap but his hold on your was firm. “Ransom! Let go!”

“Or what?” Ransom challenged, “Andy is going to see us?”

You gave up on fighting to get out of his lap and relaxed into his touch. “Why would he leave so abruptly?”

“Because he’s out to see the other woman,” Ransom bluntly responded.

“Really?” you asked.

“Kitten it’s obvious! Andy is showing textbook signs he’s cheating on you.”

Ransom felt your body tense up from the anger. He began to kiss your neck and you shrugged him off. “I’m mad Ransom,” you protested, “let go.”

Ransom ignored you and continued to place kisses on your neck. “I know Kitten but just relax,” he murmured. “And I know just how to do that.”

“How?” you asked, trying to pull away from Ransom.

“Training always takes my mind off of things.”

“Training?” you asked in disbelief, “Ransom I don’t want to work out.”

“No, not that type of training Kitten.” His right hand left your hip and slithered his way up to your throat. “This type of training,” he said, lightly squeezing your throat.

You turned your head and looked at him in bewilderment, “do you mean….”

“You know exactly what I mean Kitten.”

You gulped. To say you were nervous would’ve been an understatement. You were as clueless as one could be when it came to sex. Truth be told you were glad you would wait until marriage, it gave you more time to avoid giving a blowjob to a man.

It wasn’t that you found it disgusting. No. You found it terrifying. You were scared you would do it wrong. Or accidentally bite down on it. Or even worse, accidentally throw up. You’ve heard stories from your friends how they hated giving blowjobs and all the horrors it came with. Now it was your turn to dance the tango.

“I-I don’t know if I can do it,” you nervously stuttered out.

“Relax Kitten, we’ll go nice and slow just for you.” Ransom's left hand began to massage your thigh sensually. “I’ll stop whenever you want me to stop.”

“You want daddy to feel good, don’t you?” he added.

“I do,” you replied.

“Help me take off my pants,” Ransom demanded. As you began to get off his lap and unbuckle his belt he continued talking. “It’s not hard Kitten–well not yet–but think of it as sucking on a popsicle. You have to hollow your cheeks out.”

“Will it hurt?”

“No but your jaw will be sore,” he chuckled. “Oh and when I tell you to open your mouth, open wide and stick your tongue out.”

You nodded along to what he said and took mental notes. Once his pants and boxers were pooled at his ankles you sat back on your feet and waited for his next instruction. Ransom was already hard, his cock was thick and oozing with precum. Just looking at it made your body tingle.

“Open wide Kitten,” Ransom instructed.

You immediately obeyed and opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out just how Ransom told you. He slapped the tip of his cock onto your tongue. It was heavy and you could taste his precum on your tongue. The action was dirty but god you loved it.

“Okay now swirl your tongue on the tip.” You swirled your tongue on the tip of his cock. His eyes fluttered shut from the action and his head slightly leaned back. “Kitten, keep your eyes on daddy.”

You peered at him through your eyelashes, your eyes looked innocent but your mouth told a whole other story. Ransom’s hand went to your cheek, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your cheek.

“Now listen very carefully, if you can’t take it, tap my thigh three times. Got it?”

“Got it!” you said.

“That’s my girl,” he praised. “Remember to–”

“To hollow out my cheeks like I’m sucking on a popsicle,” you finished for him. “I’m ready.”

Ransom grabbed the base of his cock and began to guide it in your mouth. When you felt the tip go past your lips you knew your jaw would be sore the next day, it was so thick. As his cock went further into your mouth your nails dug into his thighs and you could feel the tears brimming your eyes. The second Ransom felt you gag around him, he stopped. He didn’t pull out but he wasn’t going to go any farther.

“How you feeling Kitten?’ Ransom asked through a strained voice. Your mouth was warm and so inviting. You couldn’t give him a verbal response so you opted for a thumbs up. “Good–Shit your mouth feels so fucking amazing.”

You were beyond tense. You had no idea how you were going to be able to do this. Scratch that, how were you going to take all of him?

Without any warning Ransom’s hand went from your cheek to your head. He then guided your head up and down on his cock. It wasn’t fast but it wasn’t slow either, it definitely took you by surprise.

Ransom couldn’t form a proper sentence, all that left his mouth were incoherent words. He tried his best to keep his eyes open but they would just flutter shut. You had no idea a blowjob could be so messy. Salvia was trickling down your throat, your mascara smeared your eyes and tears ran down the sides of your face.

“I know you can take a little bit more,” he groaned out, pushing you further down on his throbbing cock. “You’re doing a good job for Daddy. Jesus Christ.”

You tried to push back the gag reflex as best as you could. Anything to hear Ransom and make him feel good. By now you had taken only half of him but you could only do so much. You tapped on his thigh three times and Ransom quickly pulled out of your mouth. A string of saliva could be seen connecting to the tip of his cock all the way to your mouth. You gasped for air while you wiped the remaining salvia you had left on your mouth.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, still gasping for air. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“You did perfect for your first time Kitten,” Ransom assured you. “That’s what training is for, so one day you’ll be able to take all of daddy’s cock in your pretty little mouth.”

“I still want to make you feel good daddy,” you said. “You didn’t finish.”

“You’re so eager to please daddy, aren’t you?” Ransom asked, to which you nodded frantically. “Then give daddy a handjob.”

You knew what a handjob was for two reasons. One, you saw it in a movie. Two, Ransom gave you a very detailed and filthy explanation to you one day.

Your dominant hand barely wrapped around the base of his dick, having a nice firm grip. You began to pump him up and down, making sure you got from the tip down to the base. Though you still felt like it wasn’t enough. You kitten licked the tip of his aching, leaking cock ever so slightly causing Ransom to jerk in pleasure.

“Oh fuck!” Ransom groaned out. “Do it again.”

You did it again and again and again. The sinful noise Ransom let out spurred you on. The way his body reacted to your touch made your pussy flutter. You never knew what desperation was until tonight. The moans Ransom would let slip out made you desperate for his dick.

“Kitten, I’m so close.”

You went faster and ignored the cramping in your hand. Instead of continuing licking his tip, you opened your mouth and sucked on it. The sudden feeling of your mouth made Ransom cum almost instantly. You pulled back and watched as his cock oozed with cum and hit your chest. You watched, amazed how his cock would bounce with every spurt of cum. By the time he finished, your chest was glistening with his cum.

“That was…fuckingamazing,” he slurred, drunk off of pure pleasure. Ransom grabbed his phone and took a picture of your swollen lips and cum covered chest. “I’m going to treasure this forever.”

“Ransom! Delete that!” you scolded him.

“Yeah right, next time I have to record you,” he said, “you know to make sure you’re making progress.”

“I’m not letting you record me,” you replied.

“It’s not about what you want Kitten, it’s about what daddy wants. What daddy wants he gets,” he said in a low tone. “Let's get you cleaned up before Andy comes home and sees his fiance covered in-”

“Alright!” you cut him off, making Ransom laugh.

The next day you woke up alone in your bed. Andy had to leave early for work like usual and he left a card on your side of the nightstand. It was a simple card saying how much he loved you. You thought something was better than nothing, though you were still disappointed. You figured you would get ready anyways and spend the day doing something besides staying in the house.

You had chosen the perfect valentine’s day outfit picked weeks ago. Just because Andy wasn’t going to take you out like you had originally hoped for didn’t mean you weren't going to wear it.

“Don’t I look pretty this fine morning,” you said to yourself in the mirror, twirling around.

“Indeed you do,” Ransom whistled.

“When did you come in?” you asked Ransom, looking at him in the mirror.

“5 minutes ago,” he replied, “you know you take forever to get ready.”

“I’m so sorry Ran,” you sarcastically apologized, “I guess I just like to take forever knowing you were going to pick me up in my bedroom.”

Ransom playfully rolled his eyes. “Something is wrong with the t.v and I don’t know how to fix it and yes I did unplug it and plug it back in.”

“You can be such a grandpa sometimes,” you joked as you walked out of the room.

“What’s wrong with the…” your voice faltered as you saw the array of different colored roses in the living room.

“Happy Valentine's day Kitten,” Ransom said.

“Did you do this?” you asked him with a smile on your face.

“Of course I did,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He walked past you and grabbed a certain bouquet of pink roses, “read the card.”

You grabbed the card from the banquet and opened it. “Happy Valentine’s day Kitten, you’re my favorite girl in the world,” you recited, “p.s thank you for sucking my dick–Ran!”

Ransom roared in laughter, “you should’ve seen the flower boy’s face when he was writing it!”

“You can be so dirty sometimes.”

“Yeah but you secretly love it,” Ransom shrugged. “We should get going though.”

“What for?” you questioned.

“We’ll be late to brunch and quite frankly I would like to spend as much time as I can with you today before Andy whisks you away.”

“Andy won’t be back until 6,” you reminded him.

“Thank god!” Ransom cheered, pulling you into his arms. “That means we’ll finally be able to go to the mall and get you the necklace I’ve been telling you about.”

“Ransom I don’t–”

Ransom shut you up with a searing kiss that left you breathless. “I said I’m getting you the necklace. Now let's go before we’re really late.”

#ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale #knives out #knives out fic #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans characters #chris evans character x reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber #andy barber x y/n

348 notes · View notes