#i hate my brain constantly fighting against itself!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hgtmigirlxx · 1 year

Text

Where I Went: A Statement

So . . . it’s been a hot minute.

If I recall correctly, I last posted in 2018. Despite the rapidly aging cells of my brain wishing to believe otherwise, that was five years ago now. I essentially disappeared from everywhere-with the exception of my Youtube channel-five years ago. In saying that my Youtube channel was an exception, even it evolved past the theming and topics that the people who followed this blog watched my videos for.

I feel compelled to say I’m sorry. I don’t believe that I had anyone on tender hooks wondering where I disappeared to or why I vanished at all. However, my inbox is full with more than one hundred messages, ones which would feel far too odd and far too late to directly respond to now. So I figured that an update was in order.

TW: Mental health; self harm

The Fandom Side

It’s important to note that for the majority of my usage of Tumblr, I was a minor. I turned 18 in 2016, so was only an adult for a year before I left.

The truth of the matter is that Tumblr became an unhealthy environment for me. This site has come so far in so many ways in terms of user behaviour since the day I left, but I think anyone who was on this website during the difficult periods know exactly the type of toxicity that used to run wild here. And I am not totally blameless. I was complicit, and I think that that realisation contributed to my decision to leave.

I was getting involved in fandom discourse and drama on a regular basis. It began in my Hunger Games days and continued into my Shadowhunters era. When it came to the fandom side of Tumblr, there was always a fight to be had. Drama was always just around the corner and if you didn’t word yourself correctly or god forbid shipped something the majority considered wrong, then you were opening yourself up to attack. And I was on both sides of the attacker and the attacked. I think most of us usually are. No one is totally blameless. Whether I was white knighting Claudia Trisac against the Joshifer shippers or being the Anti-CC provocateur in order to big up Shadowhunters, I was always inserting myself into drama in defense of what I thought was the moral and right side.

It got to the point at times where I was constantly checking my blog notifications to make sure no one was reblogging me with a nasty comments or sending me hateful asks. It was interfering with my mental health, and my mental health had already taken a huge hit in 2017. That’s not to say that genuine debate didn’t take place from time to time. However, this wasn’t common. I advocate for proper debate on my Youtube channel and I think part of the desire to do that was because of how disagreements on this website usually went down. Of course, it also happened on Youtube and across all platforms, such is the nature of social media, but I have lessened my contribution to such behaviour. I’m satisfied with the strides I’ve taken with this. I definitely feel like I’m a lot more responsible with my media consumption.

Mental Health and Autism

A year before I left this site, in the summer of 2017, I had a mental breakdown. A pretty big one, to be honest. I quit college and became a shell of a person due to a severe case of generalised anxiety disorder. Doing anything that went outside of my everyday norm and routine caused extreme distress. My anxiety expressed itself very physically, such as vomiting, trembling and on occasion passing out. This resulted in me being taken into A&E for self harm that Autumn.

I spent the proceeding years pretty much just trying to cope. Trying to survive. Mental health services suck, especially when you’re an adult struggling. The hospital gave me six sessions with a counsellor and a pat on the back. Once those six weeks were up, I was expected just to get on with my new medication and no problems. So I did. Or tried to. I didn’t go back to school, nor did I get a job. It felt like I was just existing, and it still does in many, many ways. There were some benefits, though. I helped my sister raise my nephew and I developed an unmatchable bond with him because of this; a rare connection that I doubt I will ever have with another child (unless I have my own, obviously). That was round about the time I disappeared from this blog. I made my post about my book-which we’ll get to-and then sort of vanished.

In 2019, I put myself in to be put on a waiting list for an Autism Assessment. Being twenty one at the time, many asked why I was doing it. What was the point if I wasn’t a kid anymore? I always say the same thing in return. I needed answers. An anxiety diagnosis did fit me but I always felt like there was something else. Like I had only gotten half an answer instead of a full one. Events and behaviours that traced back to my childhood that couldn’t possibly have been anxiety. I wasn’t anxious when I was five. I was actually incredibly outgoing. So why did I hate fireworks and discos and crowded shops and struggled so much trying to make friends? Why was I so focused on these fandoms in my teenage years? Why was I so obsessed that I couldn’t put the phone down and separate myself from that world? That wasn’t anxiety either.

Last year, on May 31st, I was diagnosed with autism. Hearing those words felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I had an answer. Everything suddenly made so much sense. This anxiety I had been diagnosed with in 2017 was very much still anxiety, but it was an anxiety that stemmed from something much larger. Something much larger that had been a part of me all this time, but had been neglected for twenty three years.

Co. Down Woman Opens Up about Being Diagnosed with Autism at 23

Now, I’m not using autism as a shield for the fights I used to get into on here. That was all me, whether I was knowingly autistic or not. My neurodivergence doesn’t excuse me from that. In fact, I cringe at the idea of someone excusing my previously argumentative nature just because I’m autistic. It is not a protective blanket; an excuse to throw at people to avoid culpability. All it did, for me, was explain a great deal of stuff such as why I did certain things, or behaved in certain ways. But an excuse? Absolutely not.

The Seven

My final post on this blog before I became Houdini and vanished into the ether was about being published. This did happen. In April 2019, my debut novel The Seven released on Amazon. It’s an LGBTQ+ urban fantasy, and centers around seven characters who have supernatural abilities based on the day of the week they were born on. I never got around to doing an official announcement before I decided to stop posting, which is a shame because there are some congratulations messages in my inbox that I feel terrible for not responding to. I appreciate you, even though the chances of you seeing this are incredibly slim.

Just last year, The Seven became an Amazon Kindle exclusive and can be read for free if you have Kindle Unlimited. Sorry, that feels like a shameless plug but I wanted to let you guys know that the book I last posted about did happen. It wasn’t a pipe dream, or a lie, or bait before I left.

The Seven ebook

If you’ve been following this blog since my fanfiction days, then this is a really nice achievement to be able to share. A “heh, look, I actually did it!” type of moment. I could have done it earlier. I potentially should have done it earlier. But the time never felt right to come back. Better late than never, I suppose? If you do ever decide to read my word stained pages, drop me a line or an ask and let me know what you thought, yeah?

The Future

I want to come back to this website, but I will be doing so hesitantly. I’m going to take my time and gauge how my psyche behaves. If I sense myself becoming unhealthily obsessed again, or if I feel myself falling back into old actions, I most likely won’t return for good. But at least I will have this post here to fill you guys in on where I went and what happened in the period of time I was away. I’ll probably do a bit of rebranding on here regardless, because I have outgrown hgtmigirlxx and some of her quirks.

Most of all, I want to thank everyone who made my Tumblr experience so enjoyable. Despite everything I said here, I loved this site and my blog and my mutuals. It was fun, and it was silly, and it was good. To the insane fellows who are still following this dumb blog, I see you guys and I love you. You’re all so important to me.

If you made it to the end of this stupidly long post, you deserve a medal of perseverance. But thank you for bearing with me! Your dedication is admirable and you’re amazing.

Kind regards,

Erin

Where Else to Find Me

#update #blogupdate #whereIhavebeen #wherehaveyoubeen #shadowhunters #thehungergames #fandom #mentalhealth #autism #authors #writing #thankyou #iloveyouall

5 notes · View notes

beep-beep-robin · 1 year

Text

i just told my mom i hate constantly having to fight against my own brain

and she said „yeah i overthink a lot as well“ and god bless her heart i feel horrible for her because overthinking sucks but i actually mean it in a „fighting against my own brain because it has convinced itself that something specific is a rule even though i rationally know it‘s not and i could easily change it but my brain is convincing me i will panic and die if i do change something about it even though i want to do something that is against that rule“ kind of way

#personal thingy #isn‘t that fun #autism #autistic #asd #anxiety

3 notes · View notes

birdsagainsthumanity · 2 years

Text

I'm going to have a real conversation for just a moment,

tw for self harm, open discussion of harming and habits, discussion of addiction. please do not read if this may trigger you

So... as someone who has struggled with self harm for a long ass time, I need to discuss something people really don't talk about regarding it, and that's the addiction of it.

Self harm is addictive. Hands down. Like any addiction, you can relapse. And the things that make you relapse can be different from person to person. But people seem to treat self harm like a one-off kinda thing and just - ignore the fact that it is genuinely, legitimately an addiction the same way drugs or alcohol can be.

I started self harming when I was a teenager and I am now 29. Now, of course, age doesn't mean much. Some people harm from a much younger age - as often things other than cutting are overlooked as self harming - or much, much older. But my particular flavour of self-abuse was the 'traditional' cutting myself.

My mental health is still somewhat shaky. Anything can truly trigger a full on relapse - usually having a really bad self-hate episode will be enough to actually cause me to start cutting again. (Of course, this isn't discussing the other forms of self harm - I'm only speaking from my own experience here.) but the fact is that it goes deeper than just the act of hurting myself.

I am constantly fighting the addiction itself. For a long time, I wouldn't trust myself around sharp knives. I wanted to always have someone with me when I was working with knives at work so that I wouldn't just - attack myself. I physically miss the sensation of it, and it's hard for me to break away from that. I just gave in and bought a craft knife for my art doll making, and my brain is constantly desperate to feel how a knife that sharp would be against my skin, the risk of using too much pressure with a new knife and bleeding to death -

and my brain wants that

See that's the insidious thing. I'm sure anyone who's fought an addiction will tell you, that desire is - immense and terrifying and exhilarating. I hate that I want to use my craft knife to hurt myself. I'm not sure I'd be able to use it for it's purpose if I did. And of course, if I did, then I'm relapsing, which will break the streak I've just started building up again. But the desire doesn't go away. Whilst my mental health is good and I'm in control of it, then it's much easier to suppress the urge, to see it as my addiction talking. But when my mental health is down, and every part of me is screaming to hurt myself? It's so, so much harder.

Please be kind to people who have self harmed. Please understand that addiction is almost impossible to truly get rid of, only to control. Please respect how fucking hard it is, the same way you would someone who is overcoming alcohol, drug or smoking addictions. Please. It is... so hard. I am constantly fighting my brain.

I'm sorry this got so long and rambly but tl;dr -

Self harming is an addiction the same way other addictions are. Please respect how hard it is to control addictions and be kind to SHers who relapse. ty.

#self harm #cutting #uhhhh what else do I tag this w #addiction

4 notes · View notes

graveyard-thoughts · 4 months

Text

Sometimes I think that nothing I do is enough. No matter how much I investigate, work and study I always fall too short, flunk and stumble about like a fish out of water. It happens in my day to day life constantly. It's something that I have struggled with since I was but a child and even then I always felt like a disappointment to everyone around me as well as myself.

I can't human the way other do, no matter how much I try it always comes out clanky, just too off and painfuly weird. I get looks by just being myself but it gets worse if I try to interact like a human for a while and then revert back to myself. I am barely tolerated as I pretend to human jet as soon as I quiet down and become myself I can feel the way others are uncomfortable around me and how I'm just something that's off, something wrong in their life.

It eats me up inside. I fill my head with insecureites, my stomach with dread and claws at my nerves. I am not enough. Yet I am too much. I am nothing more than an Unwanted guest in the lives of others, no matter how much I try.

In my previous job I thought I had made friends. I really thought we were close and could continue being friends once I left that job. I did what I could to try and interact with them, I went out of my way to talk to them fighting off my anxiety and dread. But it should not have surprised me that they preferred my best friend over me. It was something that has happened before, as they are a wonderful person that knows how to interact with others and has more likes that are common and known by others than me. It happened before, I was and still am a second choice next to my bff. I don't blame them they are my bff for a reason yet it hurts. It hurts like someone has taken a knife and plunged it to my chest and is slowly carving my heart out. Even after all these years of practice of knowing I will never be the first choice either as a friend or a partner it still hurts. It still feeds my insecurities and drowns me in rejection. It's the tinder to the flames of my self hate. It carves at my brain and digs into my depression feeding it these reoccurring insecurities that keep being re affirmed time after time.

Yet even if I try to interact with others alone it doesn't change the feeling of me being other. I don't know how to human. I am terrible at keeping contact and talking to others as I feel as if I am too much and don't want others to be bothered by me.

I wish I was content with the fact that I have a small group of very close friends. I used to be content with that, they are good people and they care for me as I do for them yet recently I've been feeling empty. I've been feeling the loss of not being loved as easily by others like my bff.

I've always wanted to be loved in my entirety. I wanted someone to look at me and through me and see that I am broken, scarred, terribly flawed and still fall in love with me in my entirety. Someone that will want to take care of me the way no one else ever had. Someone who will be my partner and support as I bumble my way through life as I am theirs. I just want to be loved. Loved the way they do in books and movies. In their entirety no matter what.

It's something that knocks my breath away out of the blue. It's an ache that makes itself known randomly only to have the ache pulse dully against my entire being as if it's a drug the my body craves even though it's not something I've ever had before.

It used to bring me comfort that even tho I will be alone I have my friends. But it doesn't anymore. So, I am trying to come to terms with the fact that I will be alone in life again. That I am too much and not enough. That I am strange, weird and off putting. That I don't like anything. That all I like is bad, strange and weird. That I can't talk to people. That my personality is violent, grating, blunt and terrible. That I act like a mother to others but not enough to be seen as someone who cares so deeply that I am constantly droning in my emotions. That I am nothing more than a place holders for others and a skipping stone for the rest. That I am so much that my bff is my handler. That everyone goes to them instead of me to talk about me. It burns at me, it feels me with sorrow and rage that others are afraid of me or pity me or whatever they think that they prefer to go to my bff as if I am just a wild animal they can play with but anything of importance had to be passed through my handler ad they are the one that have the power.

I need to be fine with being unloved.

I need to be fine with being treated like I am a monster that is being kept by my handler.

I need to learn that I will never be enough for anyone, including myself.

I have to learn to stop wanting more...

I just want to be loved.

Like they do in books

Like in the movies

#rant #mental health #sad thoughts #i feel empty #im so tired

0 notes

mieohmy · 3 years

Text

𝖢𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝟣𝟢𝟣 | 𝖫𝖾𝖾 𝖩𝖾𝗇𝗈

PAIRING: lee jeno x reader

GENRE: angst, fluff, humor, comfort, established relationship au, college au, this rly is just a self indulgent fic kjasdfk

WC: 2.1k

NOTES: slight argument/fighting ?? , cursing

SUMMARY: jeno wants your attention, your comforting presence, your love- he simply wants you.

for the bday boy that i treasure sm! happy birthday to puppy jeno <333

ღ

The phone next to you lies untouched, and practically has been for days- or has it been a week already? I mean, it wasn’t your fault that upcoming finals had been taking you to the depths of hell, and you had no choice but to lock yourself at home to study for a week on end.

Which brings you to day 7? 8? of being holed up in your room all day, memorizing a bazillion tiny printed words and trying to cram as much information as possible in that overworked brain of yours. Getting about 4-5 hours of sleep a day, you couldn’t remember anymore- or even care to remember. Not to mention the added stress that came along with being any normal college student. Wasn’t life just wonderful?

You feel bad for everyone that has tried to contact you over this stressful period in your life (since you completely turned your phone off to eliminate all distractions), but the urge to stop studying completely and just check up on the real world and all its happenings grows stronger. You breathe in -out, constantly chanting ‘self-control’ over and over again in your head. Then your eyes slowly open, and you slap yourself one last time as if to say ‘get it together' before diving back into the books.

Just two more days. Two more days and you can finish and not have to stress about finals until results come out.

At this point, you were surviving off of coffee, tea, random stolen snacks that your boyfriend would bring over from his dorm.

Damn, when’s the last time you had a proper meal? Monday?

And then you frown. What day even is it today? You glance at your calendar and-

Goodness grief, it’s Sunday already.

You almost have a midlife crisis over wasting basically a week doing nothing but sitting at your desk and looking at words, but then again at this point- you’re just over it and want to be done as soon as possible.

But soon, a weird feeling arises after you recall today’s date- like you were forgetting something. You place a hand over your forehead. Was there something important today?

And as if the universe read your mind, the doorbell rings.

A giant wave of confusion washes over you. Was someone supposed to come over today?

-and you just completely wiped it from your mind?

You’re still running through your memories as you walk to the door. No, it's not Chae since she has finals too...

Opening it, you’re not at all expecting who was behind it.

“Jeno-?”

He blinks back at your wide eyes, expression turning concerned, and you rub your temples in exasperation and defeat.

“Oh, did we have a date today or something? I’m so sorry- I totally forgot.”

His eyebrows furrow. “No, I was just supposed to come over to hang out with you....”

“It’s been so long since we last talked, baby. You haven’t responded to any of my texts. What’s going on?” He promptly adds, staring intently at you.

You let out a sigh, and jeno notices your tense shoulders and dark under-eye circles. “I thought you knew. Finals are coming up so I’ve been stuck at home cramming for about a week now actually.”

His frown deepens. “I did know. And still, y/n..” he says in a warning tone.

You know what his voice implies, you’ve heard it plenty of times at this point, but right now you don’t have to energy to listen to his nagging. “ I know, I know. Just- come in, I guess.....”

To be completely honest, you wanted to send jeno back home- there was still a lot more information left to cover and you obviously weren’t in your best condition, but he was the one who actually remembered your ‘date’ and drove to your place, so you would feel even worse making him go all the way back to his dorm.

Jeno easily follows you in, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back any comments while examining your place even though barely anything has changed since he last visited- mostly because there was nothing to change when you were in your room all day.

You walk to the kitchen, getting your boyfriend some water while yawning. Meanwhile, your mind is drifting away, thinking about what topics are left that you have to go over later. “What are we even doing today?”

Jeno plops on your couch, arms behind his head. “I don’t know. A movie?”

You hide your grimace, immediately thinking of how much time would be wasted watching one, or possibly even more if jeno was feeling it. In the one to two hours of a movie, you could be done with chapter two and three-

“Y/n??”

Your head snaps up. “Yes?”

“Are you gonna come over here or just stand there in the kitchen all day?” he teases.

You shake your head to clear the fog and join jeno on the couch. Scrolling through the options, you automatically snuggle up next to him, eyes blearily watching the moving tv screen.

He decides on this one animated film, and you’re too drained to pay attention so you simply nod and let the movie begin. But even though you try your best to focus on the storyline and what’s currently going on, your mind keeps wandering off to other, more boring things- your studies, obviously.

The number of chapters you covered, the slight of chapters you have left, how long you would have to stay up to finish going through your planned amount of information -all the stressful thoughts swirling in your head, and it only exhausts you more.

You let out a sigh, and jeno turns to you. “Are you okay? You’ve been sighing nonstop since we started the movie.”

You clear your throat, biting back a yawn. “Oh- yeah, sorry. I won’t do it anymore.”

Your boyfriend stiffens but doesn’t say anything, attention returning to the flashing screen in front of him.

You did try. You really did. But your eyelids keep drifting shut and your head keeps slowly lolling forward and snapping back up -it’s not until your forehead accidentally knocks against jeno’s chest that he finally speaks up again.

“Y/n. You need to take a break and get some sleep. Now.” His tone is sharp and commanding.

You snap your eyes back open, vision blurry. “No- it’s fine. I’m good, let’s keep watching.”

The immediate switch in the air is scary, jeno swiftly reaching for the remote and pausing the movie to look at you dead straight in the eyes before setting it back down with a loud, clattering noise. “You need to rest. I can tell from how tired you look, and I know you’ve been studying for so long, so why is it that hard to just relax for a little?”

You groan, distress breaking through. “I can’t, okay? You already understand how stressful school is and how important my upcoming tests are. I know you’re just trying to be kind and thoughtful but-“

“But what?” He cuts you off, the frustration he’s been hiding for a while finally revealing itself. “Taking a rest from burning your brain out isn’t going to kill you, y/n.”

Your hands at your side clench and unclench, a wave of emotions overcoming you. “I know that. But I can’t afford to have a break now.” Everything suddenly feels overwhelming, and your voice comes out strained and uncontrolled.

“I’m almost there, jeno. It’s so close, and if I stop now, I’ll feel like a failure.”

He laughs a short and echoing bark. “How do you think I feel? I was trying to brush everything aside and act like it was all fine, but it’s certainly not when you’re like this.”

You falter.

Jeno gets up, making direct eye contact with you even though his body is trembling and his voice is shaky.

“I spent the past week just lying in bed and worrying about you- if you were eating okay and getting enough sleep. I was constantly texting you reminders to take care of yourself, only to find out from your friend that you turned your phone completely off. Do you know how shitty of a person I was feeling? I didn’t want to be a distraction to you because I know how much you care about your grades, but it’s killing me, y/n. I want to be there for you, but instead, I end up feeling like the worst boyfriend in the world.”

He shudders before continuing,

“And then I come here, brushing off all my worries since I was super excited to finally be with you after so long, and then I have to see you in such a bad condition. Barely taking care of yourself, barely even surviving on your own just so you can pass your exams that I know you’ll already do well on no matter what. As your boyfriend who wants to help and be here for you, do you know how much my heart hurts?”

He finishes, but not before wiping away the frustrated tears that appeared in his angry rant.

It takes one beat -two beats, before you immediately spring up, rushing towards jeno and throwing your arms around him.

He accepts it, burying his face into your shoulder and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

The guilt courses through your body, and you understand. The consequences of your actions hit you, hard, and you know you deserve it all. Jeno just wants to know that you’re here. You’re here with him.

“I’m really sorry,” you murmur into his hair, “I’m really, really sorry, jeno.”

You hate the fact that you can still feel the slight wetness of his tears soaking through your-technically his- shirt. You pull back, looking straight into his eyes to make sure he knows you’re being genuine.

“I promise to pay more attention to myself, and I promise I won’t ever let it happen again. I won’t shut you out anymore... and you can come over to take care of me whenever you want, okay?”

Jeno slowly nods, and you softly wipe away the corners of his red eyes of any wetness.

He pulls you closer to him again, inhaling your scent one more time, and you finally let yourself go.

After about a minute of just enjoying each other’s warm embrace - one that you feel like you haven’t felt in so long- you allow yourself to smile and pull back just enough to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Was my baby just lonely and missed me too much?” you sing in a soft voice. He lets out a disgruntled noise in response, shaking his head against your body.

But you both know what the answer is.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed.” You tug his arm easily to your room, putting off your studies, at least for today.

“You’re really gonna take a break this time?” Jeno asks, eyeing you carefully.

You grin. “Yes? Besides, I know you’re always down for cuddles.”

You drag him to the bed, taking his arms and wrapping them around your body as exhaustion quickly fills you.

You fight yourself to stay awake as long as you can to enjoy jeno’s presence, but he notices and hugs you even closer if possible, whispering softly, “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And before you finally drift off, you sleepily murmur, “I love you, jeno. Like, a lot.”

Even after you fall asleep in his embrace, he stares down at you, softly kissing your forehead.

I love you too.

bonus bc i adore jeno too much :

“Jeno- for the last time, you’re not a bad boyfriend.”

“I know.... but-“

You shut him up with a quick kiss.

“You’re the sweetest.”

Another kiss.

“Funniest.”

Peck.

“Handsomest.”

His ever so growing smile freezes. Jeno looks at you, a surprisingly solemn look on his face.

You raise an eyebrow, confused.

“......even more than Nam joo hyuk?”

Ah. He had to go for the favorite actor.

You swallow, battling an intense internal war before begrudgingly nodding. “Okayyy...fine. You are.”

He crosses his arms. “I’m what?”

You roll your eyes, whining. “I already said it!”

Jeno shakes his head firmly. “Say the whole thing.”

You take a deep breath in, internally apologizing to your beloved actor. “......you, lee -verymuchanannoyingbaby- jeno, are more handsome than Nam joo hyuk.” Your sentence is finished swiftly in one breath, words slurring together. It actually pains you to say that. But it’s good enough for your boyfriend.

Jeno delights in the squeal you let out when he picks you up in his arms to spin you around.

“Fuck yeah- take that, nam joo hyuk!”

ღ

a/n: anyways im going to go hide away and cry over jeno now ^^

#cznnet #kpopscape #nct #nct dream #jeno #nct jeno #jeno x reader #lee jeno x reader #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #lee jeno imagines #jeno fluff

441 notes · View notes

xxdragonwriterxx · 3 years

Text

🔥You Are Human, And Damn It, You Are An Important One!🔥

A/N: Hey everyone! I’m back! It looks like my tags finally decided to sort themselves out so I wanted to (finally) post a new story! I’m still working on requests though, so don’t worry, those are coming soon! I just wanted to post this in the mean time while I edit those and test if my tags are really fixed on one of my originals so that any requested fics will actually be seen later should an error occur. Thank you so much for your continued support and patience, you guys are so amazing! I hope this makes up for my temporary hiatus! This one actually has a bit of a heavier tone to it but I think I’m finally happy with it! Thanks again for the support, and don’t be afraid to talk to me! Shoot me a message or just spew random bullshit and I’ll still respond 😂. Enjoy!

(Warning: themes of non-con & abuse. This is set in a brothel, but there’s nothing explicit, it’s just mentioned or implied. Just wanted to put it out there! Viewer discretion advised!)

🐉Song Recommendation: “The Gardener” By: Sarah Sparks 🐉

Word Count: ~7k

~~~

It was that time of year. The time of year that Levi hated the most. The Underground Market Festival. It was the time of year in which merchants from all around would come down to the Underground City, away from the prying eyes of the Military Police, and sell anything and everything to the nobles who weren’t exactly looking for orthodox materials. The normally filthy, mostly empty streets would be filled with members of the wealthy, dripping in jewelry, cash, and lavish clothing as they paraded around the sorry excuse for a city, boasting of their wealth and privilege as they bought enough food and luxurious goods to feed three times the number of people in the Underground while sharing none of it.

The days were starting to blur together. Levi honestly couldn’t tell if it had been a day, a week, or a month as the drugs in his system continued to work just like the brothel owners wanted them to, rendering him practically inoperative and perfect for use. His head pounded, swimming with confused thoughts. His gaze was unfocused, warped, and his whole body felt suffocatingly hot despite his lack of cover, his legs shifting as his body instinctively searched for a relief he didn’t even want. But that was exactly how they wanted him.

The sound of his door being unlocked made him look up slowly, his eyes taking a few seconds to fully focus on the man standing in the entrance of his room, a wide, malicious grin on his face. Levi couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose in disgust. The man smelled of sweat and stale alcohol, and his unkempt appearance made Levi itch, even when drugged out of his mind.

“Oh, Levi…” the man cooed, making Levi shudder. “I have another customer for you.”

Even though Levi had been through this time and time again, even though he had been trapped in his filthy room since he was caught stealing from a merchant friend of the brothel owner at age twenty, even though the drugs in his system were making his body scream for what this new customer could give him, he still couldn’t help the wave of dread that washed through him, the fear. Levi didn’t fear much, having grown up on the streets of the Underground alone since he was abandoned by Kenny at the age of ten, but this? This he was scared of.

He thought back to the wretched old man that had abandoned him as a small child and wondered what he would think of him now. Would he be disgusted? Unsurprised? Angry? Not that it mattered. Levi knew he would never see him again. But even so, his brain couldn’t help itself from going down those roads, asking questions of “what if?” no matter how many times he reminded himself that it didn’t matter. He was just some bastard thug turned whore in the Underground. Nobody was going to even remember him, let alone care about who he was or who he may be in the future.

Levi was once again brought out of his daze when the pig in the doorway moved to the side, letting a noble woman saunter into the room. She had a wicked grin on her face as she approached him, ignoring the brothel owner as he slammed the door shut behind her, giving them some privacy. She was covered in glittering jewelry, and although the dress she wore was extravagant, it was very tight fitting and low cut, barely considered decent, her large breasts one breath away from spilling out over the top. Her hair was pinned up in a lavish braided style, twisting and coiling tightly, and held together with real gold pins that Levi knew must’ve cost a fortune.

“~Well, hello sexy,” the woman purred as she approached the raven-haired man.

Levi had to force himself not to grimace, even with the effect of the drugs, when she slithered her way over his thighs, her hands reaching up to cup his face. The smell of whatever custard perfume she had on was overwhelming, making his eyes water and his throat close up. Her hands felt clammy from all of the lotions and creams she had slathered over her skin to make it look shinier, making them feel like dead fish rubbing against his cheeks.

“Well? Aren’t you going to ask my name?” The woman demanded in a sickly sweet voice, making Levi close his eyes in barely suppressed agony.

“What is your name?” Levi asked in a low voice. He felt the woman preen above him at the sound of his voice, knowing she thought his deep tone was for setting the mood rather than the effect of his despair.

“My name is Lady Clarissa! What’s your name, hmmm?”

“Levi,” He said quietly.

“Oooh, Leevviiii, I like that,” Lady Clarissa practically moaned. “Say, Levi, you were quite expensive. That must mean you're really good at what you do. I can already tell that you fulfill my personal tastes in terms of appearance, so why don’t you convince me of the rest and give me a good time. Don’t make me regret spending my good money on you. Don’t make me punish you.”

Levi gritted his teeth when she ground her hips into him, trying his hardest not to fight back. He knew it would be difficult, the drugs making his movements and mental processes much slower, but at that moment, all he wanted to do was shove her off of him. Swallowing the bile in his throat, Levi reached for her as she leaned down to force her tongue into his mouth.

It was that time of year. The time of year that (Y/N) hated the most. The Underground Market Festival. It took everything in her to avoid groaning in annoyance as the people she was expected to call her friends dragged her down into the filthy Underground City for a day of “fun”. (Y/N) would much rather be back at home, reading a book in the library, or relaxing with the horses in the barn, or secretly practicing her sword fighting skills with the guards of their estate. But her father had forced her to go when her friends had shown up at the house, begging for her to come with them. He claimed she needed to get her priorities straight and actually present herself, show the honor and pride that came with being part of the (L/N) family. (Y/N) thought there was very little honor and pride in parading their wealth around like they owned the world, especially in front of people who constantly struggled to survive on a daily basis.

(Y/N) walked slowly down the worn cobblestone streets, suppressing the urge to gag at the sight of other nobles walking around, looking and acting as if they were rulers of the walls. She barely looked at anything, only stopping to occasionally buy food when she noticed the hungry children hanging around, looking for a scrap to steal. She could tell they were wary of her, but she never stopped trying, always offering them the food in some way, even if it meant leaving it in a secluded space for them to find later.

Her friends constantly tried to get her to engage, running up to her with crystal jewelry, silk clothing, and delectable foods, attempting to entice her, only to get pushed away. (Y/N) wanted no part in any of it. Even her attire spoke volumes about how little she wanted to be there. She knew that to the people of the Underground, the dress she wore would be considered something of utmost value, but when compared to the nobles around her, she looked underdressed and plain. She wore nothing more than a subtle red dress covered with a black leather jacket, paired with black combat boots and matching gloves, no jewelry to be found except for the simple white earrings she wore in her lobes.

Her father had been less than pleased with her appearance, but stopped arguing when she announced she was leaving, the lord just happy she had at least agreed to go to the festival. She knew he was disappointed in her, annoyed that she wasn’t like the other noble ladies who loved to flaunt their luxurious lifestyles and bend to the every whim of the lords around them, looking to marry early for money and power. (Y/N) wouldn’t be surprised if the entire reason her father wanted her here was so she could possibly win over the affections of a single lord milling about, one that was rich and influential. It was for that possibility alone that (Y/N) had originally thought to wear something that made her look underdressed, having to swallow the bile that rose in her throat at the prospect of catching some snobby noble’s attention.

“Yeah, her name is (Y/N)! She’s the one right over there, I think she could use a good time.”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up when she heard her name, her eyes shooting over to where her friends were standing in a group in front of a large building. All of them were looking at her, covering their faces with their hands to hide their giggles. Dread filled her to the brim when she saw the sign in front of the building, her face paling in horror.

“That one, eh? I think we can arrange something like that,” the brothel owner said, a smug smile on his lips as he stared at her, his grin only widening as her cheeks flushed a brilliant red. “Don’t worry, I’ve got one in particular that could give you a good ride. He’s expensive since he’s my most popular, but he’s worth it.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to argue, her cheeks on fire as her brain fought to think of something, anything to get her out of this situation. She didn’t want to fuck some random stranger for no reason, but she especially didn’t want to have sex in a brothel. She found them vulgar, repulsive, and horrible. The way they treated their “workers” was appalling. Just as the words finally reached the tip of her tongue, one of the girls she had come to the festival with cut off her impending argument.

“Damn, I’m jealous! If he’s that good I’m almost tempted to take him myself. But she needs this. She hasn’t loosened up the entire time we’ve been here and I think this might help. She’ll take him.”

The greasy man smiled and wrote her name down, happily accepting the roll of cash her friend handed him before getting up, supposedly to let the man know that he had another customer on the way. (Y/N) tried to escape when she could, but her friends rushed up and caught her before she could slip into the shadows, dragging her over to the brothel and shoving her towards an open door where the brothel owner stood, a creepy smile still plastered on his face.

“Guys! I don’t want this!” (Y/N) whispered frantically as she was dragged towards her doom.

“It doesn’t matter if you want it or not, you need it!” One of her friends said with a laugh. “Besides, you’re going to have a fun time. Don’t make us regret spending that money for you!”

(Y/N) was practically thrown into the room, stumbling as she fought to catch her balance, before the door was slammed shut behind her, the loud sound of the lock being latched reverberating around the room with the finality of a death toll. Huffing in anger, (Y/N) stood and brushed herself off, smoothing out her dress and straightening back up to her full height, fighting off the panic slithering up her spine.

A low groan of pain coming from behind her made her whirl around in surprise, her eyes landing on a shorter, pale skinned man with stunning silver eyes and raven black hair. Gods he looked pathetic. She could definitely tell he was attractive, it made sense now as to why he was a popular choice, but he looked sickly, his cheeks hollowed out, dark circles under his eyes, and a muscled yet neglected body starting to wear thin from years of hunger and constant overuse. The sight made her want to be sick. How could anybody be cruel enough to force themselves onto this obviously abused man? How could anyone willingly pay money to fuck him rather than help him?

“Um, hello,” (Y/N) said quietly. “W-What’s your name?”

The man raised an eyebrow, not used to the soft, kind, almost shy way she asked for his name. The women and occasional men he dealt with most of the time were demanding, controlling, and sadistic, knowing they paid for a man they could use, and their voices usually projected that. Yet, this woman looked as if she had been forced to do this, further supported by the way she had been nearly thrown into the room by whom he assumed was her friends.

“Levi,” he said quietly, waiting for the usual routine to start, no matter how much his gut twisted in disgust at the thought.

“Hi, Levi, I’m (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)...” Levi murmured softly, training himself to memorize it despite his swimming brain, knowing she would want him to scream it out later. Whether in pain or in pleasure, he wasn’t sure yet.

“Um…” (Y/N) was about to speak, her mind scrambling for something to say when her eye caught sight of a large bruise on his neck. Her eyes widened and suddenly started scanning his entire body, her stomach roiling more and more the longer she stared. Now that she was really paying attention, (Y/N) could see painful bites, hickeys, and splotchy bruises littering his neck, jaw, chest, and thighs. Her eyes narrowed on the long, bloody scratches running down the length of his chest and back, and she noticed blooming red patches of skin all over him that were raw and aching from being slapped hard and rough over and over again.

He was wearing a loose pair of worn boxers as his only cover, and (Y/N) could only imagine what other horrors the thin cloth was hiding. Glancing down, she saw him shift uncomfortably, his boxers tented by his arousal. The sight made her growl in anger, knowing that to keep him going after he had already had so many customers for the day, a drug was being used to make him insatiable, forcing him past the point of pain and probably clouding his judgement and mental process as well. It made her want to go cut up the brothel owner and serve him to a pig.

Without thinking, (Y/N) rushed to him, reaching out to him, only to freeze when he flinched. She heard him curse at the involuntary movement, knowing it was his job to appear as unaffected and sexually appealing as possible, and it made her heart clench even harder, her hatred for this place and the people who ran it increasing tenfold.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) immediately slowed her movements, trying to appear as calm and unhurried as possible. Her gaze softened and glazed with unshed tears when he closed his eyes, his arms reaching out as he prepared for her to sit on his lap and have her way with him like she knew every other man and woman who used him did. Gritting her teeth against the fury she felt, she carefully slid her way across his thighs. She felt him force himself to relax under her as he leaned forward to let her kiss him.

When he felt nothing, and heard something click, Levi cracked open his eyes in curiosity, only to have them fly open all the way when he felt something cool and wet against his neck. Looking down at the woman in his arms, his lips parted in shock, watching in confused awe as she leaned back and soaked a small cloth in some water from a bottle, rinsing the fresh blood from the fabric. Looking to the side, he saw a small first aid kit by her feet, the container open to reveal a variety of medical tools inside.

(Y/N) leaned forward again, raising the towel to his neck to dab at his abrasions, washing them carefully, reverently, almost... lovingly. Levi opened and closed his mouth but no words came out as she continued to work on him, delicately cleaning his jaw and neck before carefully moving on to his chest. Was this some kind of strange ritual she always performed during sex? Did she just find him dirty and want to clean him up before putting her lips or her pussy on his skin? His mind was running a million miles a minute as she worked on him in silence, only pausing when he hissed quietly at the feeling of his gashes being washed.

(Y/N) frowned as she gently swiped the cloth along the red gouges in his skin. They were deep, most likely caused by the long, sharp nail extensions some ladies liked to wear, or the dull blade of a man with violent tendencies. It didn’t surprise her, a lot of the men and women who used people like this did have sadistic qualities, but it didn’t help to quell the now roaring fire in her blood, wanting nothing more than to fight against the injustice of this man.

“W-What are you doing?” Levi finally managed to ask.

“Cleaning your wounds.”

“Why? Is this some kind of-”

“Preparation? No. We aren’t going to do anything. I just want to help your injuries heal.”

Levi felt like his brain was full of static, like his mouth was stuffed with cotton. He wasn’t complaining, far from it, but he couldn’t get a reading on this woman. Why would she, a noble from the surface, want to help him, a hopeless whore from the Underground?

“Wha-”

“Before you ask what my intentions are, I’m just going to tell you that I didn’t even want to do this. I was forced to come to this festival because my father wants me to become more of a proper noble woman. But since I wasn’t too thrilled about having to be here, the people I came with thought I could use an opportunity to loosen up, and paid for me to do this with you in the hopes that I’d start having fun with them afterwards. But I have no intention of doing any of that. I hate how everyone in the Underground is treated like shit, and the last thing I want to do is take advantage of someone who obviously isn’t in control of his situation. I just want to help.”

Levi closed his mouth, all of his protests dying on his tongue. He still had questions, a lot of them, but he decided those could wait, her explanation making him feel surprisingly relaxed for someone who had trained himself to never take the word of a noble at face value. He had never met anyone like her. Even before he was forced to whore himself out, all he had ever known of nobles was their complete lack of humility and egotistical sense of self-importance.

It was silent for a moment, but this time, the silence was more comfortable, both of them starting to relax a little as (Y/N) continued to patch him up. Levi felt himself loosen up a bit, his muscles unwinding as his hands settled on her waist, keeping her securely balanced on his lap as she worked. Pride swirled in (Y/N)’s chest as she felt his tense muscles soften, her eyes sparkling as she started to work her way towards earning his trust.

“What’s your happiest memory?” (Y/N) asked suddenly.

Levi quirked an eyebrow in suspicion, “Why should I tell you, brat?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” (Y/N) said, shaking her head and stifling a giggle at the nickname. “I only asked because I figured we may as well talk while we do this. Not only that, I feel like you could use some happiness right now. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, so if you don’t want to talk to me, you don’t have to.”

Levi was silent for a minute, the cogs in his mind turning as he tried to make what he believed to be the right decision despite the fog clouding his judgement. Just as she had promised, (Y/N) waited patiently, not pressuring him to answer, or even bringing up another question. She merely sat in silence, her clear (e/c) eyes narrowed on his injuries as she worked to make him feel better.

“There was a time when I was with my friend Farlan, a few years back. We were doing a job, trying to get rid of a troublesome merchant for a client of ours when we found out the merchant had a cat. We were hiding around the corner, waiting to strike when that damn cat jumped up onto Farlan’s lap. I’m fine with cats, but that was the day we found out Farlan had some kind of allergy to them. He was trying to hold back his sneezes but finally lost control right when the merchant came around the corner, and Farlan ended up sneezing really violently in his face. That merchant got so scared he must’ve jumped at least three feet in the air, and even managed to piss himself before he took off. We still had to finish him off later, but in that moment, when Farlan was mortified and our target was running for the hills because of a cat induced sneeze, I couldn’t help but laugh a little.”

(Y/N) had paused in her work to listen to him, and couldn’t help but smile when he finished his story. Going back to work, (Y/N) didn’t ask what happened to Farlan, not wanting to drag him back down after she had finally gotten him to talk to her, about something so personal no less.

“What about you?” Levi asked.

“Hmm, I think I’d have to say when I got my horse for my birthday,” (Y/N) said. “I was never around the horses, wasn’t allowed to be in the barn because it wasn’t “proper for a lady”. But I loved them, loved seeing them on the streets when other nobles would come visit my father or when the soldiers from the Survey Corps would come back from a mission. I couldn’t stay away, so no matter how much my father tried to squash my love of them, it just wouldn’t happen. My mother eventually convinced him to let it go, and surprised me with a little chestnut filly that I named Sashay when I was about sixteen years old. Now, she’s my best friend. We’ve been through everything together, and she’s the only one who doesn’t try to force me to be something I’m not. Aside from the royal guards, I guess. They learned a long time ago to stop trying to get me to sit still and look pretty when I beat all of them in the sword fighting ring.”

Levi’s brows shot up into his hair at that, his lips parting in surprise. “You know how to sword fight?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Yeah, not what you were expecting, huh?”

“No,” Levi said. “I’ve never heard of a noble woman who could fight, let alone with a blade. Are you any good?”

“I tend to think so, but that all depends on who I’m up against,” (Y/N) said with a cheeky smile.

For some reason, Levi couldn’t help but smile back for the first time in years. His lips felt chapped and strained from disuse, but it felt good, a light feeling flooding his chest with warmth. “You said earlier that your horse’s name is Sashay,” Levi said, suddenly changing the topic.

“Mm hm.”

“That’s weird.”

(Y/N) giggled at his bluntness, making another fluttering feeling swirl in his chest. He had never met anyone other than Farlan who saw his language as something other than rude.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” (Y/N) said. “But I named her that because she is a sassy chestnut mare. I like to imagine that if she were human, she’d be someone you wouldn’t want to mess with, someone who wouldn’t take shit from anyone, but would do so with a spicy attitude. So I named her accordingly.”

Levi huffed a laugh at her response but almost immediately regretted it when the movement of his chest caused the rough gauze at her fingertips to brush against his injuries a little harder than before, the stinging sensation making him hiss in pain.

“Sorry!” (Y/N) said, quickly retracting her hands and holding them up, waiting for him to give her the signal to continue.

“Not your fault,” Levi mumbled, motioning that it was alright for her to get back to work. “Thank you, by the way. I don’t think I said that before.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “You don’t have to thank me. I want to do this.”

Levi wanted to ask her why but remembered what she had told him at the start of this and decided to trust her word, swallowing the question and instead changing topics. “Why do you even have this? Do you always just carry a first aid kit around?”

“Only when I come to the Underground. I want to have it available for those who really need it.”

“You do know that at least half of the people down here would kill you without a second thought to get to that medicine. Or they’d kill you if they thought you were pitying them.”

“I know, but I’d like to think I can handle myself a bit more than the average person. Even so, I usually keep it hidden unless I really want or need to use it on someone, and it’s only for quick patch-ups anyway. I can’t really fix anything major.”

(Y/N) finally finished with his front and carefully slid off of his thighs, moving slowly to begin working on his back. She made sure he was okay with everything she was doing before settling herself down onto the edge of the bed behind him, her hands reaching up to start her work once more.

Levi wanted to know more about her. He felt as if he could talk to her for hours, as if he had known her for years. He wanted to know what made her laugh, what made her cry, what her vision was for the future. It was insane, so much so that Levi idly wondered if he’d fallen off the deep end. But he couldn’t deny it. She was just too intriguing, so surprisingly kind, so genuine.

What was your childhood like? What are your favorite things to do? Do you come down here often? When will I see you again?

The questions continued to rattle around in Levi’s head as they once again lapsed into a comfortable silence but he forced all of them back, not wanting to seem either too desperate to get to know her, or be seen as coming on too strong.

After debating with himself for a while, Levi finally settled on, “You’ve mentioned your father a lot, and how he doesn’t want you to be yourself.”

(Y/N) tensed a little, her face twisted in a grimace behind Levi’s back. “Yeah… he used to be better about it, but ever since my mother died, he’s been like a tyrant. He’s upset he didn’t get a son in the first place, but now that he’s stuck with me for a daughter, he’s even more disappointed that I’m not someone he can easily make profits off of by marrying me off to someone. Not only have I been adamant about not allowing it, but no nobleman wants a woman who can think for herself. A woman who can ride a horse, go toe to toe with her soldiers, has an opinion, and is knowledgeable about current conflicts. They want someone who will dress up all pretty for them and be in bed, ready to satisfy them when they get home from gambling and drinking all day while sitting on their parents’ money.”

Levi scoffed and (Y/N) huffed in agreement. “I’m just not that kind of person. Every suitor that has ever met me has run away from my casual attire and sailor’s mouth.”

“Your father wasn’t like this when your mother was alive?” Levi asked.

“He was, but he wasn’t as bad. My parents were in an arranged marriage, but they got along alright. At least my father loved my mother enough to listen to her most of the time when she told him to lay off of me. I honestly think she’s the reason why I have such a strong fighting spirit.”

“I’m sorry she’s gone,” Levi said awkwardly, not used to providing words of comfort.

“Thanks,” (Y/N) said genuinely, a warm smile gracing her beautiful features.

“I didn’t know my mother that well,” Levi said haltingly, still unsure why he felt comfortable telling her about things he hadn’t even talked to Farlan about. “She died of a disease when I was four years old. She was a prostitute, like me, so I never knew my father. When she died, I was picked up by a man named Kenny, who I thought might’ve been my father for a short while, but as I grew older, I realized he wasn’t. I don’t have any proof, I just know. When he abandoned me at ten, I was alone for a few years before I met Farlan.”

“So… you didn’t get stuck doing this because of your mother?” (Y/N) asked carefully, almost afraid to ask in case it made him shy away from her.

“No,” Levi said slowly. “I was twenty years old when I was caught stealing from a rich friend of this brothel owner. I had made a mistake and there was no way out. He figured out who I was, a thug who was known at the time for carrying out favors for people, whether that meant stealing or killing depended on how much they were willing to pay. Unfortunately, this led them to Farlan, and he gave me a choice. Me, or my best and only friend.”

“And you chose to save your friend at the expense of yourself,” (Y/N) finished for him in a hoarse whisper, filled with horror and unbridled fury at what this man had been through. She figured she should’ve been alarmed, he had just admitted that he had blood on his hands. He was a thief, a thug, a criminal, a murderer. But (Y/N) knew those things were nearly requirements for living in the Underground and no matter how she thought about it, she couldn’t think of anything that would make this man deserve what he was going through.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to say something just as she put the last bandage in place when a loud pounding on the door startled them both. “Time’s up, you two!” The brothel owner shouted through the door.

(Y/N) shot up from the bed and rushed around to where the water and first aid kit sat, quickly packing up the little box of supplies and splashing her face with water, trying to make herself look sweaty enough to look convincing. Once everything had been packed away, (Y/N) stood and shrugged off her leather jacket, throwing it to him.

“Here, take this, it’ll keep your boss from seeing the bandages and trying to get rid of them. It’ll also give your injuries a little more protection from the bacteria in this room.”

Levi wanted to refuse, tell her he couldn’t accept a gift like this, even if it was temporary, but no words would come out as he watched the beautiful woman in front of him mess up her hair and swipe her fingers across her lips, trying to make herself look as wrecked as possible. When she finally looked the part enough to seem convincing, (Y/N) made her way to the door, turning one last time before she opened it to throw him a wink and a sweet smile.

“~Goodbye Levi, I hope we can see each other again soon.”

The lilt in her voice was fake, an act for anyone who may be listening on the other side of the door, meant to be taken as a sickly promise of more sexual endeavors to come, but he could feel the genuine emotion in her statement.

“I hope so too,” Levi said quietly after she had already left, the once comforting quiet of his room now making him feel lonely and empty.

The sound of pounding on his door woke Levi abruptly, making the raven-haired man growl in anger and annoyance. It was rare that the poor man got to sleep, not only because customers could come in at almost any time, day or night, but also because of the horrible insomnia that often plagued him. It made him even more irritable to be woken up, his body sore and his mind groggy as another round of pounding roused him further and prompted him to swing his legs over the side of the small cot he was provided when not busy fucking, and make his way to the door.

“What?” Levi snapped when he swung open the door, genuinely surprised that the pig who owned him hadn’t just burst into his room like he always did, raving about yet another customer for Levi.

“Get your shit, you’re going to the surface.”

Levi blinked. This had to be some kind of joke. The brothel owner never let anyone under his foot leave the brothel, let alone the Underground. Even the highest class noble women couldn’t request for him to come to them, the old man not trusting his prostitutes to be sent back. Especially Levi.

“Oi, your ears gone to shit now? Grab your pathetic bullshit and get out of my sight,” the man snarled, his small, watery eyes narrowed on Levi like he was the scum of the world.

Shaking himself out of it, Levi didn’t hesitate for another moment, rushing back into his room to grab the pitifully few things he had with him, including the leather jacket he had gotten from (Y/N), draping it over his shoulders to hide his healing injuries just in case it was a trick. The festival was still going on afterall, this could just be some ruse the old man set up to make the experience more interesting for the men and women who paid for him.

When Levi returned, the man pulled a gun from his jacket pocket and jerked his head, signaling Levi to follow him. Levi knew better than to risk running. In his full health he could’ve easily escaped from the man’s clutches, but with little more than a half hour of rest, his injured body, weak muscles, and the remnants of the drugs still working through his system, Levi didn’t trust himself to outrun a bullet, and knew the pig wouldn’t hesitate to fire, no matter how valuable Levi was to him.

Even though Levi kept expecting the brothel owner to turn down a secluded street and lead him right into an ambush or trick of some sort, he never did, leading Levi right to the stairs exiting the Underground. When they reached the guards at the base of the stairs, the man took two slips of paper from the inner pocket of his worn brown coat and showed it to the guard. When he was cleared to continue on, the brothel owner turned and motioned for Levi to stay close as he stomped his way up the stairs, grumbling incoherently to himself all the while.

Breaching the surface, Levi brought an arm to his face, shielding his eyes from the intensity of the sun as it attacked his face with warm, bright light. He eventually got used to it, slowly lowering his arm and rushing to catch up with his boss, who was impatiently grunting for him to hurry up.

Passing through what appeared to be a busy market square, Levi followed the brothel owner along the lively cobblestone streets until they reached a quieter part of the town, stopping along the edge of a beautiful flower field, the grassy meadow filled with colorful blossoms that secretly took Levi’s breath away.

The sound of horse hooves caught his attention, and Levi looked up only to have the air fly from his lungs when (Y/N)’s bright face came into view, the stunning woman seated astride whom he assumed to be Sashay and flanked by two armed men.

“Right on time,” the brothel owner grumbled, his little pig eyes narrowing when he saw her passive aggressive smile.

“Of course I’m on time, this is my deal, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the man growled. “Are you sure you want this one? He’s my most popular, I’d hate to lose him.”

“Yes, he’s the one I want. Besides, I believe the money I’ve paid you has far exceeded the profit you have earned from having him around. I’m sure you will be able to manage.”

The man sneered at her but didn’t respond, using the muzzle of the gun to push Levi forward and digging in his pocket to fish out the same pieces of paper he had shown the guards on the stairs, handing them to (Y/N).

“Thank you, sir. I believe we are done here.”

The brothel owner slunk off, casting dark looks at her but refusing to argue as he hunkered off to head back down to the Underground, where he would continue to rot like the rat he was. Levi watched him go before turning to (Y/N), surprised by the bright smile she flashed him when he met her gaze.

“(Y/N)? What’s going on?”

(Y/N) smiled even wider and held up the pieces of paper she had been handed. One of them was the file labeling him as a slave to the brothel owner, keeping him from escaping, and the other was a bill of sale. His eyes widened when he saw her signature on the bottom of both pages, officially registering her as his new owner. He opened his mouth, about to speak when she took both pages in her hands and ripped them in half, letting the torn pages float onto the street below, forgotten, useless.

“There, you’re free now.”

Levi was at a loss for words, his mouth gaping open. “(Y/N)? What-”

“Before you ask me what my intentions are, I’m just going to tell you that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t stop thinking about your life, your sacrifice, your pain, and I decided I could do something about it. You are human, and damn it, you are an important one! I couldn’t just leave you there. Now, you won’t have to work for anyone but yourself. You won’t have to cater to anyone else’s needs and you can fulfill whatever dreams you have.”

“But, that must’ve cost you a fortune, to cover more than the amount of money he’s made off of using me? What about-”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Levi. I want to use my funds for good, put them towards the people who need it the most. That includes you. Especially you. I couldn’t bear the thought of you having to stay in that shit hole for even a second longer than necessary.”

“What do I do now, then?” Levi asked, trying to focus on keeping his voice steady.

“Well, you can do whatever you want now. You’re a free man, you can find a house and settle down somewhere, or you can go back to the Underground and pick up your life where you left off. You can join the military, or you can start a small business here in the square. It’s anything you want. You get to choose your life now.”

“And what if I don’t want to do any of those things?”

(Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that flashed across her face then, her heart filling with warmth. “Like I said, it’s your choice, you can do whatever you want, carve your own path, but if you want to come with me, you’re always welcome to.”

Levi’s lip twitched and he took a step forward, reaching up to pat Sashay’s muzzle as he got closer. “Alright, I’ll follow you.”

(Y/N) beamed before turning around to nod at each one of her guards, dismissing them. When they had left, presumably returning to (Y/N)’s family estate, she reached down for him, her hand extended for him to take. Placing his rough palm into her warm hand, he allowed her to help him up into the saddle behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist to keep himself secure as (Y/N) kicked Sashay into an easy canter. Sighing blissfully, Levi let himself relax, his chin coming down to rest on (Y/N)’s shoulder as they made their way home, together.

Levi had never expected to see the day when he would willingly go with a noble, but then again, he never thought he’d ever meet a noble like (Y/N). Now, as he felt her warmth soak into his chest, he knew he’d made the right decision.

Levi finally felt the remnant effects of the drugs in his system fade away as the sun beams broke through the fluffy clouds in the sky, leaving his mind clear. He was making this decision all on his own, nothing left to impair his judgement, and no matter what, he knew he would never regret the path he chose to take just so long as (Y/N) stayed by his side.

152 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

could we see coops first big fight when they’re married? (essentially pure angst)

Yes, we can! Don’t worry, I got your follow-up ask about a happy ending as well--there are no sad endings on this blog, just some bittersweet ones, and this is very soft and fluffy. Hope you enjoy!

Combined with prompts for...

1. Another of Coops’ serious talks

2. Remus overworking himself to keep up

3. From @colored-rain: Sirius sleeping at Dumo’s for a night

4. Slow dancing in the kitchen

TW for couples fighting, suppression, and marriage issues

“Do you think we got married too fast?” a quiet voice asked in the darkness.

Remus paused for several heartbeats before opening his eyes and turning over; Sirius was staring at the ceiling, wide awake. “What?”

“Do you think we got married too fast?” Sirius repeated without looking at him.

“Do you?” Remus countered. Something panicky was starting to buzz in the back of his brain and he tried to keep his breaths steady. Sirius wasn’t breaking up with him. They had only been married for a few months. Things were really, really good—as far as he knew, they were both happier than they had ever been.

Sirius sighed through his nose. “I don’t know.”

“What?” Remus sat up against the headboard, wide awake. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I—” Sirius shifted to sit up as well and crossed his legs. “I don’t know! People usually date for a lot longer than a year and a half before getting married, right?”

“We’ve known each other for seven years, Sirius.”

“Yes, and I love you, and you’re wonderful, but everything happened so fast.”

Remus wasn’t sure if his heart was trying to crawl out of his chest or dissolve into a puddle of pain. “Are you—Sirius, are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” Sirius said immediately. “I just said I love you, what the hell?”

“People can love each other and still break up!”

Sirius grabbed his hands, holding tight even when Remus tried to pull back and let his panic overtake him. Grey eyes locked on his, as solemn as he had ever seen them. “I’m not breaking up with you, Remus.” The clock on the nightstand beeped midnight and Sirius pressed his lips together. “We have early practice.”

“We need to talk.”

“We need to sleep.”

“Promise we’ll talk tomorrow, then.” We need to talk right now, actually.

Sirius squeezed his hands and kissed his cheek. His cheek. “I promise.”

Remus didn’t sleep much that night. His cheek burned with the memory of Sirius’ lips.

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

Their morning routine was stilted and quiet. Practice was awkward, and though neither of them let the previous night’s events influence their performance, he knew the tension was palpable. “Y’all good?” Leo asked under his breath as Remus filled his waterbottle up.

“We’re fine,” he answered, exhausted.

“Loops—”

“Stay in your lane, Knut.” He regretted the words as soon as they escaped his mouth—the kicked-puppy look on Leo’s face was more than enough to make guilt spike up—but he kept on moving down the hall and tried to wash the bitter taste from his mouth.

The ride home was worlds worse than he could have expected. Sirius turned the radio off the moment it started to play and kept his eyes firmly on the windshield the entire time, tapping his thumb against the wheel in the tic that always appeared when he was nervous. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t help us fix whatever’s going on.” Remus wasn’t angry, per say, but he was really fucking frustrated with Sirius’ sudden inability to communicate. “Talk to me. What happened?”

Sirius chewed the edge of his lip. “I was just thinking.”

There was a long stretch of silence between them. “Wow, thank you for that incredibly helpful information,” Remus said sarcastically when it became clear he wasn’t going to continue.

“You don’t have to be mean about it,” Sirius muttered.

“I’m not trying to be mean—”

“Well, you kind of were—”

“Then maybe you should talk about your problems for once!” Remus snapped before he could shove it back down. Sirius’ jaw clenched. “If we’re going to work through this, then you have to tell me what the hell happened to make you so worried and upset. Do you regret getting married to me?”

The response was immediate. “No.”

“Thank you.” He leaned his head back against the seat rest and closed his eyes. “Thank you, that was what I needed to hear.”

“Do you think we moved too fast?”

Remus scrubbed a hand over his face. “I used to. I don’t, anymore. There’s no rulebook for any of this. How long have you been thinking about that?”

Sirius started tapping the wheel again. “A couple weeks.”

He may as well have opened the passenger door and booted Remus from the car. A breath punched out of his lungs. “A couple weeks?” he whispered. The world was spinning, the floor was open, hell itself was coming to swallow him up. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I figured it was normal marriage stuff. That it would pass.”

“Oh my god.”

“I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”

“And I do?” Remus said incredulously. “News flash: this is the first time I’ve ever been married, too!”

“Please don’t be angry.”

“Being married means you share things, Sirius, not keep them bottled up for two weeks! Especially when they concern the other person!”

Something stormy came over his face. “Oh, really? So when were you planning on talking to me about the fact that you haven’t slept in six days?”

“I literally sleep next to you!”

“You toss and turn all night, and then you get up and run drills for an hour before coming back to bed. Every time I ask how you slept, you lie to my face, Remus. That’s not okay.”

Remus was speechless. He had done everything he could think of to be quiet and careful so Sirius wouldn’t know. “I…”

Sirius glanced over at him, eyebrows raised. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Be an adult. Be an adult. You’re married. Be an adult. “I’m still worried about catching up to the team.”

“I figured. We’ve talked about this before, Re, it’s not safe for you to do that to yourself—”

“You don’t get it!” Sirius pulled into their driveway and turned the car off. “You have no idea how it feels to constantly be catching up to people! I’m fine, it’s not like I’m doing any damage!”

“I’m sorry, did you forget who you’re talking to?”

Remus clenched his teeth and got out of the car, grabbing his duffel from the backseat before slamming the door. He felt a little guilty—the rising memories of hushed confessions of hours of exercise to his father’s whistle meant Sirius understood better than anyone. Then the front door closed behind them both and the indignance on Sirius’ face sent his temper flaring up again. “You never bother to talk to me about anything that’s going on with you, so why should I even try?”

“What happened to ‘marriage is a partnership’?” Sirius followed him into the kitchen. “Have we moved on to the hypocrite stage yet or are we still clearing the air where nothing ever gets solved?”

Remus reeled back like he’d been slapped. “Fucking excuse me?”

“Every time we fight, you start all sarcastic and defensive, and then you get preachy like you’re reading something out of a fucking self-help book!” Sirius ran a hand through his hair. “Christ, Remus, it feels like I’m talking to a therapist instead of my partner!”

“Husband!” The ring on his finger had always been a comfort instead of a lead weight. “You can’t even say it?”

“I don’t regret marrying you!

“Then why are you so upset about us being married young?!”

“Because it’ll fall apart!” Sirius shouted back. “We’re going to be insufferably happy for a while, and then somewhere along the line we’re going to hate each other, and then it’ll be cold looks when we pass and different beds and all our friends will have to pick sides because we can’t stand to be in the same room together!”

“If you’re so sure about that, then why are you trying to fucking hard to keep us together?” Remus’ heart pounded like he’d run a marathon. Hearing his own fears thrown in his face was the most terrifying thing he had ever experienced.

“Because I love you.” Sirius’ voice broke. They were on opposite sides of the kitchen island, but Remus could see the pain on his face. “I love you, and I don’t want some—some impulsive decision to ruin that forever.”

“I love you, too.” Tears clogged the back of Remus’ throat. So stop pushing me away.

“Then I’ll be at Dumo’s.”

Remus nodded silently as Sirius walked past him toward the stairs; the moment he was out of sight, he headed into the downstairs bathroom and sat down with his back to the closed door, burying his face in his forearms. There was a rustle outside, and the front door closed with a click.

It wasn’t until his face itched with drying tears that he remembered Hattie. Guilt and panic stabbed through him and he scrambled back out, sprinting to her bed and then to the backyard. “Hattie?” he called, frantic with worry. “Hattie, c’mere!”

He closed his eyes and thought back to the events of the day. They had left her in the house for practice, and he vaguely remembered hearing her in the other room while they were fighting, and when Sirius left—

“Oh, you bastard,” he said aloud. The rustling of Sirius grabbing his duffel and whatever else he packed had been accompanied by the pattering of Hattie’s paws. “You took our fucking dog.”

Part of him was grateful that at least somebody had remembered their baby. The other part was absolutely furious. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a few deep breaths as the tone played. “Hello?”

“Can you pick me up?”

“Re, are you okay?”

“Not really. Can you pick me up?”

Concern dripped from Lily’s voice. “Where are you?”

“At home.”

“…where’s Sirius?”

“At Dumo’s.”

“I’m on my way.”

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

Harry Potter had been alive for less than two years, and he had been cried on by about half the Lions. Finn had started referring to him as ‘therapy baby’, and Remus was inclined to agree—it was hard to feel anything extreme when he was holding the pudgy little angel to his chest.

“So you fought?” Lily asked gently from the armchair across from him. Remus nodded. The whole story had spilled out in a gross mess of sobbing and baby snuggles until he laid down on his back, holding Harry to his chest as he dozed.

“I feel like an idiot,” he said miserably.

“Don’t.”

“It was awful.”

“I bet.”

Remus sniffled and kissed the top of Harry’s head. “Thank you for getting me. I didn’t want to be there alone.”

“I’m glad you called.” She took a sip of tea and gave him a look that he never liked. “Re, can I be honest with you?”

“Always.”

“I was kind of waiting for this to happen.” At his stricken expression, she folded her hands around the sides of her mug. “I don’t think you got married too early, because neither of you do big things like that on impulse and you love each other so much. However, I do think that you have a habit of trying to protect each other from the shit you carry with you. James did the same thing to me, and it sucked.”

“It does suck,” Remus agreed. “I hate the thought that he can’t trust me.”

Lily held her finger up and shook her head. “Nope. It’s not an issue of trust, is it? Why didn’t you tell Sirius that you were having trouble sleeping?”

“Because I didn’t want to worry h—oh.” Harry wiggled around for a moment and Remus adjusted himself so he was leaning on the armrest. “I think I get it now.”

“You guys need to talk about that at some point or it’s going to keep coming up.”

“Is that what you and James did?”

“No, we let it fester for, like, a year and then broke up for two weeks.”

Remus made a sympathetic face. “I forgot about that part. I should call him, huh?”

Lily shrugged. “It’s up to you.”

“I want to apologize,” he said carefully. The sore spot in his heart and chest still twinged. “But I’m still really upset. And hurt. And a little angry? Mostly worried. There’s so much happening, I just want to hold your baby.”

“Go for it, he’s having a blast. Lover?”

There was a shuffling sound from the other room before James appeared in the doorway. “Yes?”

Remus snorted. “Simp.”

“Yes, and? What’s up, darling?”

“Can I have some more tea?” She batted her eyelashes at him with a dimpled smile and he sighed, then took her mug with him into the kitchen.

“You only love me for my kettle!” he called over his shoulder with a grin.

“Maybe!”

Remus turned his head to look at Lily while he ran a hand over Harry’s back. “Lils?”

“Hmm?”

“Am I preachy when I’m upset?”

She frowned. “What?”

“Preachy. Like—like I’m reading out of a self-help book.”

With a heavy sigh, she stood up and walked to the couch, leaning over the armrest to kiss his forehead. “No, Re, you’re not preachy. You like being right, but you’re not preachy.”

“Sirius thinks we’ll end up like his parents.”

“I’m not surprised about that, either.” She brushed his messy hair off his forehead and braided a small strand along the front, then gave it a little tug. “Guest bedroom’s yours for as long as you need it, okay?”

“That might be a while.”

She shook her head and patted his shoulder. “It won’t.”

“Could be.”

“Remus.”

“Sorry. Sleep well, Lils.” He sat up slightly and covered Harry’s ears. “And you, eavesdropper!”

“Love you!” James laughed from the other room. Lily picked the sleepy baby up and ushered Remus into the guest room with a final ‘goodnight’.

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

“Am I an idiot?” Sirius asked.

The bed creaked as Dumo readjusted his legs. “No, mon fils, you’re not an idiot. You are a young man going through his first marriage spat.”

“I hate it. I hate it. I said horrible things to him.”

“It sounds like you’re both to blame.”

“No, I brought it up first.” Dumo huffed, and he let out a slow exhale into the pillow. “Okay, maybe—maybe we were both in the wrong.”

“Fights are rarely one-sided. You have a visitor.”

Something cold prodded Sirius’ ear and he groaned, then curled on his side to let Hattie onto the covers next to him. “Bonjour, sweet girl. Thank you for the cuddles.”

She licked his nose and he smiled, petting the velvety top of her head. “Are you staying here tonight?”

“I was thinking about it. Re’s got the house to himself for a bit, then, and he knows I’m here.”

“I’m glad you’re taking the time to calm down a bit,” Dumo said as he stood with a final ruffle of Sirius’ hair. “That’s a wise decision. Bonne nuit.”

Sirius mumbled a response and made more room for Hattie, then settled in for a restless night. He never wanted to sleep alone again.

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

By some miracle, practice was more bearable the second day. Remus still ached somewhere deep inside, but it wasn’t like he had anything else left to suppress. Seeing Sirius was a relief; it surprised him at first, considering the explosive nature of the previous evening, before sliding into something that soothed him. If he could still find peace in Sirius after all that, they would be okay.

He knocked lightly on the side of Sirius’ stall after he returned from the shower. “Knock, knock. Ca—”

“Who’s there?”

Remus’ heart stuttered as Sirius looked up at him from the bench with an apologetic tilt to his mouth. Something clicked into place. “Can I get a ride?”

“ ‘course you can.” Sirius stood up just as Remus stepped forward, and they met in the middle for a tight hug. He tucked his face into the dip of Sirius’ collarbone and breathed in his shower-fresh smell, as well as the trace of laundry detergent from his shirt.

“Love you,” he murmured.

“Let’s go, mon loup.” Sirius pressed a kiss to his hair and they headed out toward the parking lot together; Remus caught Leo’s eye and saw him smile.

“How’s Dumo doing?” Remus asked as they turned out of the parking lot. Start slow, start easy. “Did you drop Hattie off at home before you came to practice?”

“Yeah, I did. He’s good, and Celeste sent me back with some brownies.”

Remus tentatively reached over and rested his hand on the side of Sirius’ thigh—his chest visibly caught before he relaxed into it and reached down to put his own overtop. “Harry’s doing well. Lily says he’s almost started running.”

“Did you go see them?”

“Stayed at their place last night.” He shrugged one shoulder. “It felt weird being there by myself.”

“Re—”

“I’m so sorry.” The words spilled out in a rush, despite his best efforts to keep it in until they reached home. “I’m sorry for everything I said to you, and especially for how I said it. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about how I was feeling, too. It should never have gotten to that point.”

“Apology accepted.” Sirius sounded a little choked up. “I don’t think we got married too soon, if that means anything.”

“Of course it means something,” Remus half-laughed as he wiped the dampness from the corners of his eyes. “It means everything.”

“I thought it might be too late.”

“Can you pull over for a second?” Sirius obliged, and as soon as he turned the car off, Remus turned to face him. He linked their hands, making sure Sirius was looking into his eyes. “It is never too late to talk to me, okay? I’m sorry if I ever made you think that it was.”

Sirius unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over for a brief kiss that sent bubbling warmth throughout Remus’ entire body. “I’m so, so sorry for yelling at you. And for keeping everything in, even though we both promised to stop doing that. All that shit I said, it—it wasn’t true, Re, and I wasn’t thinking.”

Remus rested their foreheads together and wound his fingers in the short curls fanning Sirius’ face. “Honey, we’re not your parents.”

Sirius swallowed hard. “I know.”

“So you don’t have to be afraid that we’re going to hate each other out of the blue, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“If—” His mouth went a little dry and he faltered. “If you want to take a break, or take things slower, I totally respect—”

“Nope, no, no, no,” Sirius interrupted, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him in for another fervent kiss. “I love you. I’m happy with you. I let my head get away from me, and I’m sorry.”

“All’s forgiven, love.” They sat in silence for a minute longer as Sirius traced his jawline. “Let’s go home.”

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

Sirius woke up in bed alone, which would have scared him if he didn’t know exactly where his husband was. He smiled to himself and got out of bed, grabbing a hoodie off their dresser before heading downstairs.

The kitchen light was on and music played quietly from Remus’ phone over the sound of running water. “You’re up late,” he said casually from the doorway.

Remus almost dropped a pot. “Jesus Christ!”

“Just me.” Sirius wrapped his arms around his waist as he set the pot on the drying rack. “Stressed?”

“A little. I forgot to do these earlier and didn’t want to leave them overnight again.” Sirius hummed his agreement and rocked back and forth, then took Remus’ hand and spun him in a slow circle. “Oh, are we slow dancing to the Billboard Top 100 now?”

“Very romantic, I know,” Sirius laughed.

Remus shook his head with a wide grin as they swayed, much too slow for the actual song but absolutely perfect. He was beautiful in the low light of their kitchen, puffy eyes from and all. “You are ridiculous.”

I’m the luckiest person alive. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Sirius leaned down for a series of quick kisses, pulling him in until their chests pressed together. Remus let go of his hand and draped both arms over his shoulders, tangling his hands in his hair. “I know we can’t exactly control it,” Sirius said against his lips. “But let’s never fight like that again.”

“Deal.”

233 notes · View notes

blossomingimagines · 3 years

Text

Of A Broken Heart

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Stark!Reader

Word Count: 5,339

Summary: You never thought you would see her again. Never thought you would feel your heart skip a beat because of her emerald green gaze again. Never thought that you would let her back in. You also never thought that you would have to think about planning your brother’s funeral either. (Set after and during (sort of) Infinity War.)

Notes: Everyone requested a second part of Requiem... so I thought I would make one. I hope that you all like it. (Also the reader was under the assumption that Tony had returned. She wasn’t aware that Tony wouldn’t have a way back.)

Tag List: @username23345 // @stephanieromanoff // @ima-gi--na-tion // @chickenhavewisdom // @hi-i-1 (I’m not sure if some of you wanted to be tagged but you mentioned a part two in Requiem... so I thought I would do so just in case.)

Warnings: Mentions of alcoholism.

Your gaze was leveled with the sky. Tracing over the sparkling stars and the distant worlds dotted between. Worlds that you would never be able to make out with your naked eye. Even though you knew that they were there all the same.

Was Tony on one of them? Your mind cries out. Tears coming unbidden to your eyes as you tried to quell the incoming sobs. Was he all right? Was he already dead?

The thoughts were familiar to you. Looping constantly within your head like a taunt. Images of your brother’s dead body flashing across your mind. Hollow brown eyes, normally filled with so much life, staring into your own. Never to have the same spark again. To have mischief lurking within their depths as various emotions played through his brilliant mind.

Clenching your hands against the railing you were leaning against, you lower your head as you take in deep breaths. Ever since Tony had disappeared with the ship you had been left in an almost fugue state. Barely being able to interact with anyone. Barely allowing yourself the pleasures of living.

Eating had become a challenge because Tony could potentially not be doing the same. How could you possibly enjoy your meal if Tony was starving? How could you allow yourself the simple pleasures of Earth if Tony was suffering away from it? Away from you.

The thought of Tony truly being gone hadn’t fully set in. You had dealt with this before. Had lived with the knowledge that Tony could be lost to you. Afghanistan had been hell for you and for everyone that loved Tony. You hadn’t given up hope that he would be found. That your big brother, the only family you had left, would be returning to you.

You had less hope now. At least when Tony had disappeared in Afghanistan he had still been on Earth. Now you didn’t know what galaxy he was in… let alone the planet. His absence became more and more obvious the longer it went on. The days slipping past you like water through your fingers. The knowledge that Tony may truly be gone this time crushing you.

It didn’t help that you were surrounded by the people that hurt you the most. The people that you thought were your family but ended up being your biggest heartache. Closing your eyes once more, you crane your neck back. And even if you couldn’t see the stars you knew where you were looking. You had long since memorized the layout of the sky above your terrace in the Compound. It wasn’t the Tower but you didn’t think you could bear to set foot in it. Not without Tony being there to greet you.

You could hear the distant murmur of voices beneath you. No doubt the others trying to figure out what to do. The sound causes yet another stab of pain to lance through your heart. While you wouldn’t wish what had happened on your greatest enemy, you couldn’t understand how they survived when Tony didn’t. How they could be using the things he made for them after everything they had done. Didn’t understand why you had to see them every day and not Tony.

You still remember, with perfect clarity, seeing them again after so long. Remember seeing her again after everything.

You wished that your heart didn’t still react the way it did.

Stepping off of the QuinJet, you pull your jacket tighter against your body. Your eyes taking in the various faces as you went. Desperately searching for something familiar to ground you. You needed something to make sense. You needed to have someone you love be okay.

Spotting a familiar face, you break out into a run. Relief interlacing itself within your shout. “Wombat!”

At your yell, Rhodey whips around and pure relief flashes across his face. His arms are already opening for you as you barrel into him. Burrowing against him as you clung as tightly as you could.

“You’re okay,” you choke out with tears falling from your eyes. “You’re okay.”

Rhodey’s arms tighten around you at your choked statements. The pain he was holding back showcasing itself within the shaking of his arms. By the way, he followed every minute movement of your body as you shifted in his embrace. Finally, after a few moments, you take a small step back. Making sure that you maintained eye contact with him through it all. You needed him in your sights at all times. You don’t know what you would do if he disappeared too.

His pained gaze flits to various points behind you. His throat bobbing up and down as he tried to form his question. “Di-” He clears his throat. “Did Pepper make it?”

You nod. “She’s on her way now.”

Rhodey hums but his gaze still hadn’t returned to yours. Causing your own to narrow as worry started to fill your chest. “Rhodey.” You wait for him to turn back towards you. Even if his gaze wouldn’t stay solely on your own for long. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head but doesn’t offer an answer. Something that only causes your worry to grow that much more. Rhodey had made it his life's work to deliver the hard truths to family. You didn’t want to think of what this meant that he wasn’t able to tell you.

Stepping closer, you place a light hand on his chest. “Rhodey,” you implore gently. “What happened?”

There’s a tense silence until he finally meets your gaze. Tears finally begin to fall from his eyes as a pained sound escapes his mouth. “Sam.”

He didn’t have to say anything else for you to understand. You had already seen so many people you knew crumble before your eyes. Seen innocent bystanders disappear with the breeze as their remaining family watched in shock. The screams for help and the mournful howls of grief following soon after. New York City quickly became a desolate wasteland of what it used to be. The City That Never Slept growing quiet.

Wrapping your arms around Rhodey, you offer him another hug. There were no words that you could say that could take away his pain. No words that would ever make the grief go away. That would ever erase the image of ashen faces crumbling against the wind. Faces of loved ones, of people you didn’t even know, forever seared into your brain.

Raising your head, you meet Rhodey’s gaze once more. A small frown furrowing your brow.

“Where’s Tony?”

“We’ll have to take another jet to scope the area for more survivors. I thi-”

Whatever was going to be said was immediately interrupted by your entrance. Not that you cared for anything he had to say. Your gaze honing in on his baby blue one as you made your way towards him. While he didn’t look the same you could still see the self-righteous asshole underneath. Something that caused your anger to grow even more.

You didn’t notice the other occupants of the room. Didn’t notice the way pained green eyes followed your every move-- even though there was worry interlacing the expression. Didn’t notice anything except for Steven Fucking Rogers.

Even the splitting pain that erupted across your hand as you punched him did little to detract from your anger. All you could feel was your pain. Your grief at what had happened. No amount of physical pain could ever measure up to your emotional trauma.

“You asshole,” you snarl. “This is exactly what Tony was afraid of. This is exactly what he tried to protect the world from.”

Steve didn’t make any move to protect himself from your shoves. His blue gaze turning sad; almost remorseful.

“I know, Y/N.” He turns his head away as shame colors his face. “I know that this is what Tony was afraid of.”

“Don’t you dare say his fucking name like you’re still his friend. Don’t you dare act like what you did didn’t happen.” You scoff as you take a step back from him. Your gaze finally looping the room for the first time. Only briefly pausing over Natasha’s silent form. Hating the relief that flared through your body at the sight of her. An emotion that you were sure crossed your face by the way something shifted in her gaze. By the way, her stance loosened ever-so-slightly. Turning away from her, you meet Steve’s gaze once more. “Tony knew this was going to happen. It’s why he fought so fucking hard for the Accords. Why he fought so hard to keep the team together.”

Anger finally graces Steve’s face at your words. “The Accords were going to treat us as servants, Y/N. There was no way we could sign them.”

An incredulous laugh falls from your lips at your words. “This isn’t the forties, Rogers. You can’t just do whatever the hell you want and expect to get away with it. There have to be limitations on what people with your abilities are allowed to do.” You shake your head as you turn your back on him. Moving towards the door. “Tony was going to fight for your rights. He wasn’t going to let your humanity be stripped from you. But there had to be fail-safes in place to protect the innocent people of Earth.” You shoot him a glance over your shoulder. Withering with its intensity-- with your anger. “Or is one person truly worth more than the millions of lives you destroyed? Or the billions, maybe even trillions, that are now gone because you couldn’t see past your loyalty to him?”

“This isn’t my fault, Y/N.” Steve replies. “This is because of Thanos. He is the one we have to stop.”

A small smile quirks your lips at that. “Still the idealist I see.” You shake your head. “We all made mistakes, Rogers. Could have done things in a different manner. But never forget that you were the one that split the team-up. That you were the one that decided Barnes’s life was worth more than everyone else's.” You chance one more glance towards Steve. Your eyes are sympathetic because you already knew what happened to him. “I’m sorry for your loss. No one deserves to see their loved ones perish like that.”

Even though it’s better than not knowing...

Moving closer towards the door, you place a gentle hand against the wooden surface. Your gaze turning somber as you meet Natasha’s gaze once more. Maintaining eye contact even though you were speaking to the room as a whole. “Maybe the people we should have been protecting the Earth from were you.”

You don’t wait for a response as you’re already gone. The thunderous echo of the door slamming behind you being all that was left of your presence.

You find Thor outside with an anthropomorphic raccoon. Something that barely causes you to pause as you settle down beside the god. Your gaze remains level with the horizon even as you felt Thor’s gaze on your face. His electric blue eyes like a weight against your skin.

His deep rumbling voice soon breaks the silence. “Y/N.”

“Thor.”

A silence settles over the three of you. Your gaze never wavering from the setting sun. The silent fields rolling with the wind. A hollowness exuding from the world that left your stomach churning with nausea.

“Is the Man of Iron, all right?” Thor breaks the silence once more. His deep voice is uncharacteristically soft. “I haven’t seen him.”

At the question, your mouth thins into a line. Finally breaking your gaze with the horizon as you met Thor’s. “Tony isn’t here, Thor.”

The revelation causes Thor to reel back. His shock etching itself across his features. “Friend Stark was dusted?”

You shake your head; trying to ignore the pain that struck your chest at the very thought. “No, Thor. He went after Thanos with Peter.”

The God of Thunder’s brow furrows. “So you do not know if he lives?”

You shake your head once more. “No, Thor. I don’t know if Tony is alive or not. I may never know what has happened to him.”

There’s another moment of silence before another voice speaks up. Your gaze shifting towards the raccoons. Deep brown eyes, that reminded you so much of Tony, stare back at you.

“He’ll be all right. If he’s in space then that means he’s run into my team.” His pointed snout looks back towards the sky with a hint of longing across his face. “They’ll take good care of him.”

At his words, a breath of relief falls from your lips. Your shoulders loosen at the sheer confidence within the raccoon's tone. That is until Thor interjected once more.

“But what if they were dusted too, Rocket?’

There was no answer. Only the silence of the world, a world that would never be the same, settling over the three of you. Your eyes once again returning towards the sky.

All with different levels of longing interlaced within.

Staying in Wakanda was stifling. While it was a beautiful country with astonishing marvels, you couldn’t help but be weighed down by everything. From the silent grief that permeated the air because T’Challa was gone. To the dark looks directed towards the sky whenever an airship flew overhead. Not to mention being surrounded by Rogers and his team.

Pepper’s arrival was like a breath of fresh air. You weren’t sure you were still capable of smiling, with true joy, before she appeared. Her bright blue eyes meet your gaze across the yard. Her own bright smile, with unshed tears filling her gaze, appearing as she rushed towards you. Her slim arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. The familiar floral scent of her perfume calming you.

You hadn’t been around when Pepper had seen Steve again. Hadn’t seen the colossal fallout that had occurred but you had definitely heard about it. Thor had been all too happy to tell you the tale of ‘Lady Potts decimating her star-spangled foe’. Something you were more than eager to hear.

Which is how Pepper had found the two of you. Laughing over Thor’s depiction of events. Her own agitation quickly falling away at your joy. And, while it didn’t last long, you were thankful to Thor for allowing it to appear all the same.

Returning to the United States, to New York City, was like stepping into a nightmare. At least while you were in Wakanda you could pretend that billions of people weren’t dead. That it hadn’t been something that affected half of the universe. Seeing the empty cars on the side of the road. The few people littering the street looking lost. Faces pale and emotionless as they shuffled aimlessly from place to place.

It was a sight that you would never forget. Yet another thing that you were going to have nightmares about.

The Compound wasn’t any better. Echoes of days long passed hitting you with full intensity as you made your way through the silent halls. The laughter that sounded so foreign to your ears now ghosting across your ears on a phantom breeze. Distant chattering that only seemed to fade the closer you got to it. Memories haunted the halls of the Compound. But nothing would ever be worse than the Tower. The place that you and Tony had built together. A great marvel that was forever placed within Manhattan's skyline. Knowing that he wouldn’t be there when you arrived caused you to stay away.

You didn’t think you would be able to handle those memories. Of lazy Sunday afternoons lounging around in pajamas while Pepper was taking various calls. Tony doing his best to make her break away from her no-nonsense CEO facade. Only succeeding once before Pepper shot him a withering look that held no heat behind it. The sound of his laughter bouncing off the hallways as he cheated at Mario Kart. Your own expletives joined in soon after as you were hit, once again, with a shell.

Knowing that the Compound did this to you; even though you rarely visited it. How could you possibly set foot in the Tower? The one place that had made you feel truly at home.

Drinking helped ease the pain. Helped quiet the memories that kept surfacing as you stayed in the Compound. You know that it wouldn’t be what Tony wanted. That he never wanted you to have the problems he had, but as the days passed. As the pain, the grief, continued to grow, you found it harder and harder to resist the amber liquid. Tony wasn’t there anymore. He wasn’t there to tell you a joke when you were feeling low. He wasn’t there to tell you that he loved you in his own special way.

He wasn’t there.

So you settled for the numbness and the sound of his voice in the distance. Always there in a dark corner but never obtainable.

Anything would be better than not having him with you.

On the second week of your stay in the Compound, the others appeared. The sound of the QuinJet only pulling your gaze towards the yard for a moment before you looked back down. You knew that they would be coming sooner or later. The world needed protectors. And they had just lost their greatest. The people of Earth needed to have someone to look towards.

It was only a matter of time before they called on them.

You didn’t even raise your gaze when you heard them enter. Their voices petering off when they noticed you sitting on one of the many couches with a StarkPad in hand.

“You didn’t think I would just let you stay here by yourselves, did you?”

Your question was only met by silence. You were hoping that they didn’t question you on how you knew. That they didn’t notice the dark shadows under your eyes from lack of sleep. Or the empty decanter on the glass table before you.

Steve was the one to respond. “We didn’t but I wasn’t aware it was going to be you, Y/N.”

Glancing up, you narrow your eyes. “Well, I’m the only Stark left so it shouldn’t be that much of a surprise, Rogers.”

You don’t wait for a response, suddenly finding it too hard to be in the same room as him, as you stand. Trying to ignore the way the room spun ever-so-slightly at the motion. Easily gathering your bearings as you made your way out of the room.

Trying to ignore the way an emerald green gaze watched you as you left.

You weren’t surprised when she found you-- annoyed maybe but not surprised. Sometimes you hated that she knew you so well. Hated that she could still read you like a children's book.

You didn’t bother to turn towards her as she stepped onto the terrace. Your gaze remains level with the horizon. Hoping, no matter how much it hurt, that you would see something. Anything. A single sign that Tony was coming back to you. That he was alive.

Feeling her warm presence settle beside you should have caused you to tense. Should have caused you to move away at the closeness. It should have caused you to do a lot of things but you don’t. You simply stay rooted to the spot as Natasha leveled her gaze towards the side of your face. Her keen green eyes took in everything that she could see.

You tried not to tense when her eyes flickered down towards your hands. Towards the glass that, by some miracle, hadn’t broken due to your tight grip. The amber liquid glowing softly underneath the moonlight.

She doesn’t say anything for a long while. Simply standing with you underneath the moonlit sky. The only sound passing between you being your breathing.

Until her husky voice finally breaks the silence. “He wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself, Y/N.”

You tense. “And how would you know what Tony wants Natalia?”

You didn’t have to be looking at her to see the wince that you caused. Your own heart feeling heavy at your acidic retort. But, unlike most people, she didn’t shy away from your anger. She didn’t even seem to be fazed by it.

“Because, despite what you may think, I still consider you and Tony my family. I know how much Tony loves you, Y/N. I know how much you love him.” She grows silent for a moment before she continues. Her tone much softer than it was before. “And I know how much I love you.”

Your eyes slip shut at the quiet admission. A painful lurch of your heart telling you what you had been trying to ignore for the last two years. That you love Natasha Romanoff. That you always would… no matter what.

“That’s not fair,” you whisper. Finally turning your gaze to meet hers. “You can’t just come back into my life after two years and say those things to me. You can’t just say you love me like it’s going to fix anything.”

Her eyes flash. Turning razor sharp before your eyes as she steps closer. “It could change everything, Y/N.” Emerald green implores you to listen to her. To actually hear and understand what she was trying to say. “I love you, Y/N Stark. You are the love of my life. You are the only love of my life. I hate myself for hurting you. For breaking us apart because I couldn’t see the bigger picture. You are the only woman that has ever made me feel cherished. The only person that has ever made me feel truly loved.”

You shake your head. “You left, Natasha.”

“Because you told me to,” Natasha cries. Her green gaze grew even brighter because of unshed tears. “Do you think I wouldn’t have stayed? That I wouldn’t have fought tooth and nail to keep you? That I wouldn’t have let this whole world burn if it meant I could be with you for one more moment? You told me to leave, Y/N. I had already broken enough that day. I wasn’t going to stay and break your heart even more.”

“And you think this time will be any different?” You ask with an incredulous frown pulling your brow down. “You think that I don’t have nightmares about my parents death? That I don’t see my mother being murdered while my father couldn’t do anything but watch? You think that I’m not haunted every single fucking day that the love of my life kept that from me. That you lied to my face about one of the single most important things in my life.” Moving away, after setting your glass down, you run a hand through your hair. Your mouth thinning into a line. “You don’t think I wanted you to stay too?”

At your admission, Natasha moves towards you. Her gaze desperate as she took your hand in hers. “This time I will, Y/N. I won’t let you go again. Doing so last time almost killed me. I promise that I won’t ever lie to you again.” She shakes her head as she takes another small step closer, her hand resting gently against your cheek. “I promise that I’ll love you the way you should be loved until our last dying breaths.”

Your eyes flutter shut at the touch. It had been too long since you had felt her. Felt the way her fingertips ran across your cheek. The simple elegance that she always exuded being interlaced with her love for you. But you couldn’t forget what had happened. Your heart lurching in your chest as you remember the sting of betrayal once more.

Pulling away from her, you take a few steps back and fold your arms over your chest. You needed to have distance between your bodies. You wouldn’t be able to think clearly if she was near.

“I need time to think, Natasha.” You finally say after a tense stare off. “I need to come to terms with a lot of things in my life.”

Nodding, Natasha takes a small step back. Even though it looked like everything in her body was telling her to move towards you. Her green gaze glowed with a gentle warmth. “I’ll wait for as long as you need, Y/N. I’ll be damned if I lose you again.” Turning away from you, Natasha pauses at the door. Her gaze meets yours once more with a small smile quirking her lips. “And, just so you know, I had nothing before I found this family. Before I found you.”

Then she was gone. Leaving only you and the echoing of her words behind.

Now…

You haven't truly spoken to Natasha since the exchange. She had kept true to her word about waiting for you. Her gaze always finds yours the moment you enter a room she was in. Always making it clear that you could approach her whenever you wished to. Though she never forced her presence onto you. Maintaining a respectable distance from you at all times. Not far enough for you to not know she was there but not close enough for you to feel crowded.

You had tried to come up with ways why you couldn’t let her back in. Her betrayal being the main factor but even you knew that it wasn’t valid any longer. Even Tony had told you to look past it. That Natasha was so head over heels for you that her reasons had been honorable. Severely misguided, maybe, but honorable.

Oh, Tony, if you were here I wouldn’t feel so lost. You would just tell me what to do. Give me your patented smirk and berate me about my head being up my ass. Lowering your gaze, you run a frazzled hand through your hair. If I get one sign that you’re alright I’ll give her one more chance. I’ll make it work because I know that this is what the universe wants. That you returning to me is a sign that I’m supposed to be with Natasha.

At your eternal declaration, you glance towards the sky. Hope fills your chest as you observe the moonlit sky. Only to quickly be crushed as the minutes ticked by and nothing happened. Your heart breaks even more in your chest at getting your hopes up.

Stepping back from the railing, you decide that it would be best if you headed in. Maybe drown your sorrows with a few glasses of whiskey before turning in for the night. Pressing your hand against the smooth glass of the door, you have to squint at the sudden light from behind you. Your eyes barely being able to focus through the brilliant blaze. Glancing behind you, your eyes widen at the sight of a spaceship being placed down onto the ground. Your breath catching in your throat as you leapt into action.

You didn’t even register your mad dash through the Compound. Didn’t notice the confused looks or the shouts of your name. Didn’t register the cold grass against your bare feet as you rushed across the lawn. All you could see was the spaceship.

All you could see was the hatch opening and two figures exiting.

All you could see was the exhausted face of your older brother. His dark brown eyes meet yours through the darkness. Relief flooding his expression as he hobbled towards you. Disconnecting from the blue arm that was keeping him steady.

All you could register was the feeling of having him in your arms again. Your nose pressing into his neck as you clung to him. Soft sobs rip from your throat as his calloused hands gently run through your hair.

“You’re alive.”

It was like a mantra that you brokenly repeated over and over again. Each time making it even more real that Tony was actually there with you. That he wasn’t gone. That you could still see, touch, and hear him.

His answering response never failed to bring more tears cascading down your cheeks. “I’m here.”

You could hear the others as they approached you. By the tensing of Tony in your arms you know that Rogers was at the front. Pulling back, you touch Tony’s face. A soft sob falling from your lips at how emaciated he looked.

Offering him a watery smile, your thumb gently rubbing against his cheek. “We’ll have to get some food for you. I don’t think the space diet suits you, Tones.”

He offers you a small smile in return. The familiar spark reigniting in his gaze before fading away. His next words came out in a dull whisper. “I lost the kid.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. Your own shock filled you as the devastation in Tony’s eyes became apparent. You had known for quite some time that Tony thought of Peter like a son. That Tony would do anything to keep him safe. You viewed Peter as a little brother you always wanted. A warm presence that filled your life with meaning once more. His childish antics brightening your day and bringing a smile to your face. Knowing that he was gone? That you would never hear his horrible jokes again? Or his anxious rambles? It broke your heart. For both losing Peter and for Tony having to witness it.

“I’m sorry, Tony.” You shake your head. “He was a good kid.”

“Yeah he was.”

Opening your mouth, you’re about to respond but a shrill cry breaks through. “Tony!”

Turning, you could see Pepper rushing towards you both. Her blue gaze locked with Tony as she ran. Without thinking twice you move aside as Pepper takes your spot. Moving away to give her and Tony some privacy. Or however much one could get in an open lawn.

Not realizing how close you were to the others, you flinch at the sudden presence at your side. Your gaze meeting Natasha’s. Her green gaze filled with warmth and happiness. A small smile quirking her lips as she observes the scene before her. Pepper’s strong hold on Tony not wavering in the slightest even as Rhodey appeared too. Both taking their turns in showering the genius with hugs.

Shifting, your hand gently brushes the back of Natasha’s. Her eyes shifted towards yours for a moment before returning front and center. Biting your lip, you deliberate on what to do. As Natasha had clearly just given you the sign that the ball was in your court. That however you reacted to this situation would be all up to you.

You could step away. Pretend like nothing had happened. That it had been a simple accident and nothing more.

Or you could take her hand and finally accept what your heart was screaming at you. What it had been trying to tell your stubborn mind for the last two years. That Natasha Romanoff was the love of your life and you were never going to find anyone like her. That despite all this tragedy you could learn how to be happy again because she was by your side.

I did promise the universe, you muse with amusement dancing across your mind. And I don’t like breaking promises.

So, without breaking eye contact with the scene in front of you, you take Natasha’s hand. Allowing a small smile to quirk your lips at the way she immediately interlaced her fingers with yours. Noticing the warm smile that was now curling her lips through your peripheral.

Squeezing her hand, your heart leapt in your chest at the answering squeeze in response. Your body singing with happiness at having Natasha returned to you.

Despite everything, despite all the hardships you would now have to face, you would be able to do so.

As long as you had Natasha by your side you could get through anything.

And nothing would ever change that.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #black widow x reader #black widow #avengers imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow imagine #avengers #infinity war #of a broken heart #avengers x reader #reader insert

170 notes · View notes

stay-midnight · 3 years

Text

Royals. I

Hyunjin x Male Reader

(Late Hyunjin Day Special)

a/n: Look at me and my late ass post again 💀, Anyways, this would be split up into two or tbree parts cause it’s gonna be a bit long than my other fics. So enjoy this for now 🤧 Smut would be on the second part which would be posted in a week or two (No promises though cuz 🤡)

Things to note: Royal AU!, Insult Fight, Implied Changsung (BinxSung), All of skz is here/mentioned, Implied Hookups, TXT is mentioned, Y/N’s a bit of a dick, Hyunjin is barely mentioned here yet, Minho is also a bit of dick, flirty Minho, Minho and Y/N tension, maybe some Seungmin x Y/N here and there too-. Prince! Felix, Jeongin, Changbin, Jisung, Hyunjin, Seungmin, Y/N and Knights! Minho and Chan. Y/N’s last name here is "Hyangsu"

W.C - 2.9K

A prince of the Hwang Kingdom is having their 21st birthday and you were invited, you were a bit salty about this since you really just wanted to relax after these past weeks of taking different lessons from your oh-so-called studious teacher.

As a prince of Hyangsu Kingdom, you were called to attend the Hwang Prince’s birthday ball, and attending this party was of your at most displeasure since you just wanted to have a relaxing break from your studies.

It was a 21st birthday after all, the age where you’re supposed to find a possible suitor and you just didn’t want to see girls fawning over someone.

You sighed in annoyance as your butler comes rushing with different clothes from your wardrobe, ranging from the royal-tailored attire, elegant clothing to a more casual one.

“Just pick me something that looks presentable as Prince, please.” you mumble to him as you glared him down causing him to tremble at your passive-aggressive tone.

You didn’t even know why they’re so serious about this, you’ve went to many royal banquet and events before, and none of them have ever got your parents or workers so.... worked up.

Is it because the Hwang Kingdom was one of the most powerful in the continent? You wanted to scoff at that thought but you may not be wrong.

In the end of playing a game of picking clothes with your butler, he picked a white suit with gold lines tattered over it, it had a gold plating at the shoulder, a red silk belt matching with the red silk long half-blouse, and white pants accompanied by white boots with a red sole.

After getting dressed you walked down to the lounge, waiting for the caravan to arrive.

You were a bit rude and snappy to people, you hated if they interrupted you one bit, not to mention you were sarcastic and people find it hard to win arguments about you. The only things people really liked about you are your looks and brains, you actually had a brain, unlike those snobby rich prince and princesses — who thinks they own the whole world, and the only aspect that are important to them are looks and money.

You sigh as you wait for the royal caravan to arrive.

. . . .

After minutes and minutes of waiting, “Sire?! The caravan is here, the carriage you are going to stay in is ready outside the palace gates.” your butler said fast, fixing his tie and cleaning his monocle afterwards.

You nodded and stood up to walk over to the gates, without command or words exchanged — the guards opened it as soon as they saw you walk down the path. Bowing respectfully at your presence which you answered with a simple “Thank you.”

You hum at the sight of the royal carriage — colored white with intricate designs and patterns made with real gold and of course, the family crest at the side of it.

A knight in a silver suddenly came out of the royal carriage, removing his helmet and smiling as he waved at you.

You let out a small smile back to him, Ah, the one and only Lee Minho, “Minho.” you spoke, reaching out to shake his hand, to which he gladly obliged.

“Y/N. Always a pleasure to see the prince. Well, if you were a bit more excited about this.” He teased, letting out a few snorts. Petting your head while constantly laughing amusedly.

“I’ll stick a fork in your eye one of these days, you stupid knight.” You gave him a death glare as a warning.

“Ah, Prince, you’re so kind~” he grinned, winking at you too, you rolled your eyes at his behaviour. He was always like this, flirty and sometimes egotistic. You didn’t mind it though since he is an amazing duelist and mentor. He isn’t a King’s guard for no reason.

But one day, his cocky attitude is gonna bite him in the ass.

You grumbled and moved forward to the royal carriage, “Lino, you should move, we can’t be late remember?” You tsked, giving Minho a smirk.

“Whatever.” He spoke up in an sassy tone, you snorted at him, to which he glared at you.

He entered inside the carriage, with you slowly following right after.

After entering inside, you sat down at one side while Minho sat near you. It was spacious inside as expected and a small window was also in place.

You had no interest in staying awake for 3 hours during the ride so you decided to take a nap.

“You could use my shoulder, you know?” He teased, patting his shoulder while smirking at you.

“Shut up.” you mumble as you shifted a bit so your head could rest more comfortably against the wall.

As much as you wanted to just sleep laying down at the long couch-like thingy where you’re sat at, you can’t because this stupid knight is watching you.

And the last thing you want is him, teasing you for being less than ‘formal’.

Slowly, the sounds around you seem to deafen itself out causing you to relax your shoulders and fall asleep regardless whether Minho is there watching your every move.

Opening your eyes as you felt someone poke your cheek, your eyes drifted slowly to the side. You were eye to eye with the knight, faces inches apart.

Your recently droopy eyes from sleeping — shot open in panic, “W-What are you doing!” you stuttered, leaning back from him which made him grin.

“We’re at the city, prince~” He pets your hair, running his hand through it softly.

You glowered and slapped his hand away, “Ugh, keep your hands to yourself, Lino.” you tried to glare the knight down.

“Ah, Feisty.” he smiled back at you to which you responded with a scowl making him laugh loudly.

“No need to be so aggressive~” Minho winked making you just look away and give up, you ignored him and looked out through the window, finding the surrounding endearing.

The loud chattering from the outside is muffled by the walls of the carriage, from at first glance, this was a very happy city.

It has a warm and vibrant tone to it.

. . .

The carriage comes to a sudden halt after riding in what seems to be a hill due to how it felt riding it earlier, the ground was sloped upwards.

The coachman driving the carriage suddenly spoke up, “We’re here, sire.” he spoke up, muffled by the wooden walls but you caught it.

With a sigh, you opened the door and slowly stepped down — your eyes widening at the sight of the towering castle.

It had a wonderful structure, the stone bricks perfectly fit into one another and of course the Hwang family crest adorned the flags that were raised.

Your kingdom’s castle was in no means small but it pales in comparison to that.

Looking around at the surroundings, you saw that a lot of royals were around, some you recognized and some that you had no idea where they came from.

You looked far and noticed the view of the capital at the city which you saw while taking a ride.

“...Prince Y/N.” After getting lost in a little bubble after staring at the refreshing view, Minho was nudging your shoulder.

“Hm? What is it?” you said, looking at him with raised eyebrows as you fixed the tie of your suit.

He rolled his eyes, “Did you even hear what I said?” he glared, tapping his foot on the ground multiple times.

“Would I be asking you if I did?” you shot back, clicking your tongue in annoyance as you waited for his answer.

He groaned at your attitude, “You have to sign up to enter the castle. Lose the attitude too, prince.” he said in a careless tone, looking at you with his icy glare.

“Who are you to talk like that to me, knight..?” you scowled at him as you stood your ground firmly.

What was happening now was in contrast to earlier, this was a more serious battle between you and Minho. These were times were usually one of the houseworkers back at your kingdom, steps in to stop both of you and succeeded most of the time.

To be honest though, this fight shouldn't escalate at all.

. . .

From the distance though, someone was watching both of you in amusement, “The party hasn’t even started and they’re bickering all ready.”

“Chan if you could stop them, please?” The man with long black hair commanded to the person next to him.

The knight fixed his posture and nodded, “Of course, my prince.”

“You can call me by my name, you know? We’ve been friends for a long time.” the long-haired man chuckled.

“Still need to use honorifics, sire.” the shorter smiled at the taller before leaving to stop the heated glare-down and exchange of insults at the entrance.

He took one last glance at the royal that was bickering with a knight, finding him amusing but at the same time, he found him interesting.

“Might need to keep an eye on that one.” he hummed to himself before going back inside the castle.

. . .

Minho just recently called you a brat and undeserving of being called a prince of your kingdom, he even mentioned your brother, the crown prince — next in line to the throne — he says of how your brother is just better than you in every way. This sends a devastating pang to your heart as this was not only hurtful to your pride but in a way, he also disregards all your hard work.

“Fuck you. You have no rights to tell me this. You are not my brother nor my parents. You are merely a fucking knight!” you said, shouting the last part.

Your own eyes are tinted with anger, wanting to choke the life out of your escorting knight.

“What, isn’t what all I said was t—”

An applaud was heard from the near distance, cutting Lino off and causing your head to turn to the source of sound.

The man with the curly locks and a pretty face bowed to your direction, “The opening ceremony of the party is starting soon, Prince Hyangsu Y/N. I suggest you sign the guest book and head on inside.” he smiles at you, dimples shown causing you go soften your look.

“While you,” he said sighing after, pointing to Minho with a finger.

“...Fellow knight, let’s chit chat for a bit.” he coughed and grabbed Minho’s hand — dragging him away despites the struggling knight's protest.

You looked around and noticed some of the royals still outside, staring at you with a hint of disappointment probably because of your fight with Minho.

You grumbled, annoyed and angry at the disrespectful knight — you'll most likely have to talk with Minho after this god-forsaken party.

. . .

A yawn almost slipped out of your mouth as the host of the party or ball, at this point you question which is it. The speech lacked any entertainment of the sorts causing you to just listen with half-lidded eyes.

Then came the introduction of the Prince that is having their born day.

A tall man suddenly came out of the curtains, aura filled with confidence and pride, gleaming and filling the room. You inspected his face and not gonna lie, he was indeed pretty, prettier than most princes you have seen — Long black locks neatly tied up in a ponytail, alluring eyes, thick and kissable li— You snapped out of your little bubble after noticing that you were checking the Hwang, this is not good.

You turned away from the center of attention and looked for your small group of friends but felt as if someone was boring holes into your skull.

Turning back, only to see no one staring at you but instead just the continuous blah blah blah’s by the Hwang Prince.

Sighing, you continue to scout the palace room for any signs of a certain fox-eyed brat, someone who dressed too dark and a ray of sunshine.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance when you still haven’t spotted the trio.

. . .

The Prince finally stopped talking and just announced that the dance will start in about an hour, giving his guests — free time to converse with one another.

After going through a sea of screaming princesses that want to marry him, you sighed in relief and just wished to leave this place. That is, until you finally caught a glimpse of a familiar royal. Finally.

You poked the shoulder of the foxy prince which startled him, almost causing him to spill his red drink over his royal wear. “God, Y/N, couldn’t you just approach me like a normal person.” he tutted.

Then returned his dimpled smile, he hugged you with one hand unable to engulf with his arms due to the drink he was holding.

“I thought you didn’t go to this clownfest.” you sighed, your words having a sarcastic tone.

“Me? Yang Jeongin wouldn’t miss a ball, especially one that is hosted by one of the richest kingdoms.” he laughed, taking a sip of his drink.

“Is that wine or juice? Also, why are you talking in third person?” you stared at him with confusion.

“This is red water.” he sassed mockingly causing you to roll your eyes and flick his forehead a bit too hard with your index finger.

“Ow!” Jeongin squinted his eyes at you.

He pulls on your ear at payback which you took easily before yawning and looking at the clock impatiently. You wanted to return home and sleep, and also give Minho a lecture.

“Where’s Bin and Lix?” you piped up before taking a seat at the small seat near a pillar, curiously scouting the again for signs of them.

He sighed and sat down right next to you, “Felix-hyung is hunting for more exotic food, since he liked the Shark meat a bit too much and well...” he trailed off, taking a sip of his drink and clearing his throat.

“Bin-hyung is getting flirted slash hitted on again by Prince Jisung of the Han Kingdom. I thought the he already gave up but nope. He still pursuing the Bin booty.” Jeongin chuckled, calling over a roaming waiter for a refill to which the worker happily obliged

You laughed at that since Han has been shooting hearts at Changbin for a long time and always had flirted with him at different parties. Changbin had always rejected his advances though.

“Also they sent a new representative from the Kim kingdom. I’ve never seen him before. Looks cute though, might be your type.” Jeongin said, nudging your shoulders and pointing at a specific direction. Your eyes raked over the prince’s form, charming and handsome but at the same time cute — He was leaning back at the wall, also drinking something.

You grumbled though, this is once again Jeongin trying to hook you up with someone again. It didn’t end well last time — The last prince, Jeongin hooked you up was Prince Yeonjun — All he wanted was sex though, causing you to immediately cut off ties with said prince, leaving a bit heartbroken at that since he only said that he wanted sex after you already spent the night together.

“Not this again, Innie.” you tsked, crossing your arms around your chest.

“Come onnn~.. I thought Yeonjun liked you a lot, he stared at you a lot during Taehyun’s party” Jeongin mumbles since he knows, that you don't like fooling around with people who didn’t even have a single interest on being on an actual relationship.

He felt bad matching you up with him, since he thought that was time you actually would get out of the singles’ list.

He nudged you and tilted his head to the Kim prince’s direction, “He’s walking over here.”

Your head immediately snapped to him, “Did he notice me staring at him earlier?!” you whispered nervously.

He raised his shoulders as he doesn’t know but you could already hear his evil mind spouting not-so-good ideas when he let out a grim grin.

“Well.....~ Y/N, I have to go find Felix, I kinda wanna try the shark meat, Ok byeeeee~” he said as if he was in a rush but this was just a part of his scheme.

“Jeongin, wait, don’t lea—” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he was out of sight, the man was already extremely near you, his eyes never leaving your own.

You gulp, not knowing what to do in this situation.

In a mere second, you were face to face with the unfamiliar prince. He looked down at you with a emotionless face before sitting down next to you.

“My name is Kim Seungmin, yours?” He spoke with a honey-laced voice crossing his legs as he looked at you with curious eyes.

A smirk was starting to form at the corner of his lips before you opened your mouth to speak.

But nothing came out

He was attractive but he had soft features and an aura that resonates well with his features. He had this cute puppy-look to him but by that smirk he isn’t all that rainbows and sunshines.

Now, this is totally not good.

Little did Y/N know someone was watching this interaction in the distance, a prince than seems to be allured to you ever since he saw you within the crowd. He doesn't seem happy though~

~ tbc

#kpop x male reader #stray kids x male reader #hyunjin x male reader #male reader #lgbtq #skz #hwang hyunjin #skz fics #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz aus #royal skz #kpop scenarios

201 notes · View notes

ephemerlskies · 4 years

Text

constant craving | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

⇢ genre: drabble series, angst, unrequited love, idiot!jungkook, idiot!oc, basically everyone's an idiot

⇢ word count: 1.7k

⇢ warnings: unreciprocated pining, explicit language, themes of hopeless romanticism (!!), (slightly) unedited

⇢ summary: your best friend decided to confide in his best friend on how to win his girlfriend back after a fight. you tell him exactly what to say to her, however he is unaware that what you were saying was a sincere delivery of your once undeclared love.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: hello my little loves!! this was definitely ;) not ;) an impulse write and release ;) ;) sorry for being so inactive lately. i've been focusing on myself (i know how cliche that sounds but it's true). anyway, enjoy this incredibly angsts fic i wrote at 2 am for absolutely no reason at all other than i'm an emotional sadist and a masochist. love u!!!! <3

part one: control

He was coming over for the third time this week. Third time. Three times is two more times than he'd gone over his girlfriend's house, but you did everything in your power to convince your inconvincible heart that it meant nothing. Friends see each other more than their girlfriends, right?

It was making a racket in your chest, that muscle that strained much harder for a man who had his pumping for the girl of his dreams.

But, he was coming over for the third time this week.

The first time he said this visit ranked, in his words, 'out of the question' on the degree of necessary that he come over and show you Star Wars. You played a good game of reluctance when asking if it was the entire series or just one movie, and in your head, you hoped to God it was the entire series. For him, you'd watch the series four times over if it meant you sat through this outrageously nerdy movie next to the even more outrageously nerdy love of your life.

The second time was particularly funny to you. He called while you were cooking dinner, almost as if he was in stride with you in a way that was an ounce too synchronized to be platonic, and asked if you were whipping up a delicious meal that he could mooch off of. Knowing he was a terrible cook, plus the fact that when he begged so politely you felt your posture unbind into to a puddle, you more than happily obliged.

This time, the circumstances made it harder to say yes, but not yet impossible. And it was a second or two before you heard that knock on the front door that had your once pounding heart come to a complete halt. It was still, waiting for you to make a decision.

Since it was Jungkook, of course, you'd say yes. And your heart would continue beating. Beating, as in sending sharp jabs that stained the inside of your chest with bruises. Beating, as in when the time came, the final blow of your constantly craving heart would devastate your entire being.

"Thank you so much, ___. God, I'm such an idiot." He walked in with all the confidence of someone who was a bit too familiar with your company. Jungkook's feet reintroducing themselves to your floors in the same manner as he would the night before, and the night before that, and the countless nights you kept secured in your collection of memories. As if he belonged there; as if he was coming home.

"An idiot with a great friend." That last word nearly withdrew the bile you had been ever so gracefully holding in.

"Yeah yeah." And he was comfortable with that same word, 'friend', that deepened your bruises into scars. He had absolutely no clue. Idiot. "I can't believe I broke up with her. I was so angry and acted on that instead of logic. Fuck, why would I do that to myself? I love her."

"Well, you never know. Maybe..." You hated yourself for not resisting the selfish temptation that was about to fall from your lips. The words you've been internally screaming to him to leave her and fall in love with you instead were diluted to something much more tame when your tongue formed them into sound.

"Maybe it was for the best. Maybe you guys are better off apart? To, um, grow or whatever."

"No." He said that with too much certainty and too little hesitance and just enough conviction to sink another wound in the organ exhausting itself in your chest. "She's the one. I know it"

"Jungkook."

He looked at you with all the earnestness of a man who carved his utmost and unchanging dedication to her. A look that any love-induced sap would kill for. A look he would never direct towards you.

Your eyes weren't under your control as of now. The glue that held them to his eyes, his lips, his hair, and every other part of him you dreamed of was more than a marathoned yearning. It was an adhesive twelve years in the making, not showing the slightest sign of wearing away.

"The way you love is something to die for..." And then he smiled at you, but still not for you.

You were utterly crushed.

"She'll take you back in a heartbeat. I mean, she has a brain, so of course, she will. Anyone would."

I would.

"I hope you're right." The couch was four feet wide at most, but there was an impressively vast space between you and the man who was sitting next to you. "Can you tell me what to say? You know I suck with words."

"Uh... Yeah. Of course. Anything."

If breaking hearts were a crime, then Jungkook would have much to atone for. You'd be convicted as a willing accomplice for holding on this long. Up until this point, you've let every small glance, every shy smile he sent your way, every eyebrow twitch conveying a meaning only you knew well enough to retrieve him from whatever awkward situation he needed rescuing from, every accidentally brush of his hand against yours, every purposeful embrace that lasted so long your tears stained his right shoulder string you into a knot of miserable, unrequited love.

And up until this point, you had hope he would choose you.

Each ring of his phone worked in tandem to reduce your undying devotion to Jungkook into a compressed seed of denial.

I don't love him. He's just my best friend.

Your pulse pronounced itself loudly in your ears, as a not-so-gentle reminder of how much you hated him for loving him. Somehow, your heart beat faster. Then again, anything was possible when it came to him. Anything except the miraculous event of him hanging up, declaring his love for you, and living in the land of happily ever after that only existed in your deluded imagination.

"Hey Irene! I'm so fucking glad you picked up."

He gave you that look. With the arched eyebrow, his widened doe eyes, and the slightly hung jaw, you read each feature better than words and nodded to signal you knew exactly what he needed.

"I'm sorry about what happened." You said, in a whisper, though the deflated volume of your words carried no implication of the unbridled sincerity sealed in them.

"I'm sorry about what happened." He repeated, laying down that same Irene-contrived smile on you that fostered a smile of your own, knowing fully it surfaced as a reflex from hearing her voice.

"It might be crazy to try this, because I don't know how you feel."

If the thing people say about your life flashing before your eyes during encounters with death, then you were sure your heart was about to consume its last pulse of blood. The scenes of you and Jungkook spending your Friday nights when you were a ripe city dweller in your shoebox apartment doing everything and nothing at all had convinced you that you were certainly about to go into cardiac arrest.

"It might be crazy to say this, because I don't know how you feel." Jungkook was so many things, however emotionally perceptive was not one of them.

"But I love you. I have loved you since the moment I met you." Those words tasted sweet despite fermenting in a chamber of your heart you kept preserved since, as you said, the very moment you met him.

"But I love you. I have loved you since the moment I met you."

"No matter what, I'd choose you. It doesn't matter how mad I am or how annoyed I am, I will choose you because if I know anything in this damn, cruel, punishing world, then I know that I'd rather be angry, annoyed, or anything else with you than without you."

He repeated your words, but dehydrated all of your sentiment from them. You were left with the remnants of the feelings, and none of the words from him you were so desperately starved of. He took them right from your throat, along with the very breath that seemed to keep returning because of Jungkook, molded them into his own, into a sequence of sounds that were meant for Irene. You were left hungry, breathless, and forever wanting.

Irene must have been smiling right about now. Who wouldn't smile hearing those things from someone like Jungkook?

"Because with you, I'm complete. My story can't end if I'm incomplete. Please, choose me back. Complete me. That's all I ask."

Then, you began to ask yourself another question.

If you make me complete, Jungkook, will my story ever end?

You knew the answer to that. You swore your heart beat in a morse code that told you everything you needed to know.

"Because with you, I'm complete. My story can't end if I'm incomplete. Please, choose me back. Complete me. That's all I ask."

Jungkook looked to you, before Irene could form the proper response, and smiled. It was the third time he smiled at you today because of course, you were keeping track. You knew it was his own physically linguistic version of a 'thank you' or a 'you're a life saver' but somehow, to you, it translated to something similar to a 'goodbye'.

Your legs miraculously rose and carried you to the back porch. The sun was just beginning to dip in the horizon, proliferating a warm orange that was about to subside to an indistinguishable and unpredictable dusk. Whatever color came after the sunset, you were ready to accept it, to memorize how it reflected against a world without the possibility of him. And even though the night will always embody undertones of orange, it was time to focus on the colors around it.

It was time to let go.

a/n: i might make this into a drabble series!!! if anyone would be interested in that please let me know :)) thank you for readinggggg <3

#bangtanarmynet #btsgoldnet #ficswithluv #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts writing #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #bts drabble #jungkook drabble #jungkook #constant craving #rubycoast

1K notes · View notes

nincompoopydoo · 3 years

Text

DEBRIS AND MISERY

SAME OLD LOKI ; PART 6 / ?

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 3.3k (oops) SUMMARY: You find yourself venturing deeper into finding the Loki variant on the loose with the help of Mobius and Loki while maintaining your temper around the God of mischief and fighting with your own demons. A/N: Downtime apparently lasted for more than a week. I had absolutely no motivation to write but I eventually came around. There’s alot going on in this. Please tell me what you think, what you love, hate and look forward to. Thank you so much for showing so much love to d&m. gif from this gifset by @sersi WARNINGS: Swearing. Imagery relating to death (i think?). You and Loki’s relationship fluctuating like the goddamn economy. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERPOST ; MASTERLIST

Blue. Your flight suit is blue.

Your eyes sting with worry, ticking to a pair of hands buckling the straps that lay across your chest. A man secures it tightly, forcing your back against the cockpit chair. Your gaze drifts to the concentric steel rings of yellow, red, and white that stretch overhead and around you—being suspended within a 3-axis gimbal sends another churning sensation within your abdomen.

You hear a voice. It courses through the room and vibrates within your ears like fluttering echoes in a tunnel. It’s a man. He calls out your name from below.

“You ready?”

In your periphery, you see him, tall with slicked-back hair, standing with other men that adorn similar flight suits of blue. You nod, inhaling deeply as your hands reach for the controls. Suddenly, a metallic clang echoes through the room and the machine whirrs to life. The rings begin spinning in tandem, tossing your body in all directions. Your grip tightens around the controls, clicking with every push and pull as you struggle to analyze the spin. But, the machine spins faster.

Faster and faster and faster.

The machine continues to whirr. Your hands are still shifting the controls.

Faster and faster and faster.

Your eyes begin to droop, nausea taking hold of your body.

Faster and faster and faster.

You only hear your breaths; every inhale and exhale—they're loud.

Faster and faster and faster.

Too fast.

Stop.

...

Click. Click. Click.

Footsteps. Not the clicks of the controls. You hear them clicking against tile floors from afar. From darkness, your eyes meet the color brown, shiny and polished—it’s wooden. The sound of the vast building’s acoustics hum in tune with the occasional chatter and echoing thump. You recognize the ambiance and it comforts your hasty thoughts as your brain tries to wreck itself in comprehending your current surroundings.

It’s one of those dreams again. The ones that kept you awake at night since the Sakaar incident, as if reliving the memories of another life. It isn’t yours but the realism to it makes it so complex that your brain cannot even comprehend the experiences during these dreams that occur.

To see, touch, hear, smell, and taste. Do dreams exceed the limit of disconnection and logic? Are dreams to be so immersive that it feels more like a memory, an echo of the past?

Through the turmoil of parsing between what’s real and what’s not, a tap on your shoulder hauls you back to reality. You turn to see Mobius, looking ridiculously exhilarated. Behind him lingers an amused Loki, hands tugging into the pockets of his jacket. The analyst says your name with a tone of equal exuberance to his manner.

“I thought I’d find you here. Do you always sleep at the archives?”

You snort, seizing yourself up as you wipe your face with your palm in hopes of feeling slightly more awake and alive than you were before. “No. Sometimes, I sleep at my desk too.”

Exhausted and sarcastic. Typical you.

Mobius rounds the table to sit beside you, gesturing Loki to his previous spot before he got up and ran away from you without any explanation. He shoots you a smile, lips pressed together, almost hesitant to sit across from you. You watch him through narrowed eyes as you address him with folded arms. “And here you are, back here again.”

Loki cannot fight the growing grin upon his lips, knowing all too well that you're referring to how he led you into an unnecessary chase down the corridors of the TVA for the sake of his entertainment. Well, it was not unnecessary. Things were turning out to be a bore and with the sudden thought of a proposition to help with his case, it doesn’t mean he has to drag out the fun of irritating the hell out of everyone else.

And you are not a bore.

“Loki! Where the hell do you think you're going?!"

You’re outright screaming at him but his long legs only stride faster than yours could handle, slumber still clinging to your face like a thick, waxen mask. He’s so quick, weaving through tangerine hallways, skidding across the tiled floors.

He saunters down the hall with quick feet but doesn’t sprint, clever enough not to draw any attention.

He ought to answer you. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he flashes you a cheeky smile. He swears he saw flames burning in your eyes for a moment.

As you wind another corner, you already see him making one last quick dart through the elevator doors that slide open as it dings unceremoniously. Through your wide-eyed gaze, you signal him with eyes that carry a warning.

“Don’t you dare close that fucking door.” you snarl, voice booming from down the hallway and so does the clicking of the heels of your Oxford shoes as you march towards him like you’re on the hunt for prey.

Loki jams his finger onto the button to close the doors, unable to wipe off his grin. “Don’t you trust me?” is all he says to you, sending you a wink through the closing gap of the elevator doors as he raises his palm to wave you farewell.

You decided Loki wasn’t worth the time he has already taken from your assigned paperwork. So, you returned to your desk with a trace of bitterness in your tongue while attempting to suppress the regret for actually feeling sorry for Loki. Only because you know how it is like to be alone.

That’s the thing about Loki. He gets inside your head, makes you think that for once, he may be worth not pruning. He makes you think he is capable of change, capable of compassion. He makes you think he cares from the way he looks at you with those eyes that flicker the spark of hope in you. This Loki is the same old Loki.

Well, maybe the one in Sakaar had a good chance of earning your trust. But that’s gone now.

You shift in your seat, elbows now leaning against the edge of the table. “And to answer your question, no. I do not trust you. And I never will.”

Famous last words of the variant turned analyst.

Nobody trusts you either.

Except for the grey-haired analyst with the obsession for jet skis and you never understood why. Maybe, it’s because you’re the only one who is willing to put up with his ramblings.

Mobius eyes you and Loki’s interaction as the two of you seem to fall into the rhythm of making things even more complex than it appears. It's all part of his grand plan. Mobius knows you well enough to know you are possibly enjoying Loki's company no matter how much he irritates you. And Loki, it's clear how he admires you and how you constantly surprise him every time he crosses paths with you.

“What would I ever do without your trust?” the God sneers, each articulation of every word wrapped in mockery paired with dramatically placing his hand to his heart. Your eye twitches, the spitfire of your personality ready to fire back with a probable nasty insult. Yet, Mobius places his hand on your shoulder, while the other outstretched towards Loki as if trying to keep the two of you apart.

“Okay, okay. No need to get all riled up now. We only just had a breakthrough in the case, and I’m not letting you kill each other just yet.”

Your anger seems to immediately wash away, replaced by curiosity. You blink at your colleague. “Breakthrough?”

“Yes, and it was surprisingly Loki’s theory. Now—”

“Why do I smell...sulfur?”

You cut his sentence short as a strong whiff of a reeked scent began to descend upon you, billowing in the air. You inhale deeply, brows furrowing in concentration and confusion. An overpowering scent of a decaying body, faint but strong enough to seem out of the ordinary. The archives never smell rotten, always floor polish. Mobius and Loki share a look. Mobius is the one to speak up, attempting to distract you from your sudden strong sense of smell. “Sulfur? What, like when there’s a demonic manifestation? I mean, we are in the presence of Loki—”

“You went to Pompeii, didn’t you?”

In all of the time he has spent with Mobius who had a constant laid-back and confident nature to him, he has never seen him so red in the face. As the situation unfolds, he wonders why Mobius has made it a point to hide that information with so much eagerness which now has proved to be useless. You’re not only intelligent but also quick—only in terms of the mind rather than your physical capabilities.

You can hardly run, but your brain outshines everyone else he has met in the TVA.

Mobius is now waiting for the imminent chaos and mayhem you’re about to bring. You’re going to call him insane like every other time he has suggested an out-of-the-ordinary idea. Causing a scene is one of your talents. He has his hand on your shoulder again.

“You hate Pompeii, Mobius. Why the hell would bring him—Wait.” Your eyes are wide and blinking. “You went to Pompeii. Alone. I know that from the look on your faces. Which means no reset charge...No Nexus event.” You pause, pursing your lips. Then, you avert your gaze to Loki who watches you curiously. “Are you suggesting the variant is hiding in apocalypses?”

Mobius’ laugh comes off like a puff of air. He pats you on the back like a proud uncle. “Back on the game, Agent!”

Loki is slightly impressed. Only slightly.

“Okay, you two stay here. I’ll go get the files. Great work, you two.” Mobius gestures to the both of you with an outstretched index finger, grin so wide as he scurries off. Mobius loves a good case, especially when there’s a breakthrough. And with you finally familiarizing yourself with working together with Loki, everything is finally starting to look up.

The two of you end up finding each other’s gaze and for the first time, you smile at him. It’s small but genuine.

“You know you could have told me.”

“I would have, but you don’t trust me, remember?”

You hum, raising a brow. “And running away was supposed to gain my trust?”

Loki chuckles, eyes flicking to the table. “I never said anything about gaining your trust.”

Your smile grows wider, and Loki decides how he prefers you like this—relaxed and amused.

He oddly sees his mother in you. It’s the way you look at him. Like you know him.

Right, you have met him. Once.

“What was I like? The one you met at Sakaar.”

You blink, slightly taken aback by his sudden question that hasn’t got to do with insinuating you.

“The same as you—barely tolerable,” you say tightly, heaving a sharp exhale. ”Just…a lot sadder.”

You hadn’t mentioned how he willingly helped escape your execution because a part of you still believes it all to be a lie. The TVA has your complete fidelity but ever since the Sakaar incident, your trust in the way the system works has been swayed. After years of being trapped in your mind, the question of whether your capabilities in logic have been damaged due to loneliness still begs. Judge Renslayer believes in your incompetence but you believe she hides a secret about the Time Keepers.

The three beings, creator of the TVA, personally convicted you as innocent, allowing you to maintain your job. Nothing of this makes sense.

Maybe Judge Renslayer lost all her faith in you, her second-best analyst because your Nexus event relates to Loki. The one variant that has been causing havoc to the Sacred Timeline. And this Loki, the one that seems to be very curious about your place in the TVA and the Time Keepers, is no different than the others.

You find yourself feeling an uncalled sense of sadness that dwells in your chest at the thought of leaving the only friendship you secretly wished to have maintained back at Sakaar. Before you let yourself fall into the abyss of melancholic wishful thinking, you swiftly direct the conversation elsewhere.

"I’m sorry Mobius referred to you as the devil,” you say coyly. “You really aren’t.”

Loki, who seems to catch on with the sarcastic tone of your voice, leans farther into his seat. “Really?”

A smirk returns to your face. “You're worse than the devil." He snorts, noticing the vague hint of crimson growing upon your cheeks and how your eyes seem to crinkle a little more than usual.

He finds himself swallowing under your stare, fiddling his fingers in an attempt to calm his sudden erratic heartbeat. A stutter under your now kind gaze—no one ever stares at him with a smile. "You are not the first to say that."

There’s another pause; Loki’s face is set with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You feel a pang of guilt in your chest in remembrance of how you’re not the first to have treated him the way you did. He’s dangerous but, there’s no reason for animosity. Yet, it all boils down to the lives he has willingly taken. It doesn’t differentiate him from the rest of the TVA.

Mysterious variant.

The devil is always in the details.

Strangely, the work of the devil may prove to be useful in times of cul-de-sacs as an idea comes to mind. “I think...I think I know where you’re at right now.” Your voice is light, distracted by your now running thoughts. You’re on your feet, chair squeaking as you push it back. Your pen is in your grasp and you wave it in the air, reflecting the gears that turn at high speed within your brain.

Frankly, you’re not making any sense. Loki furrows his brows, slowly standing. “What do you mean? I’m right here—"

“No. The other one. The variant. And it has to do with gum.”

You’re still not making sense and it’s clear that in your eyes, he is invisible. You’re the only one in that frenzied mind of yours.

“What?”

You don’t answer him, feet quickly bringing you down the passageway along the vast rows of shelves that stretch along with the floor’s pristine balcony of white and the two of you are back to playing chase and run. Only this time, the roles are reversed.

Mission Haven Hills: not successful.

Really not successful. Far from successful.

You witnessed the doom of bombing the Sacred Timeline, firsthand. Employees scramble at the controls as you watch the screen that looms over the control room. What was once a single line, running along with time has now grown like a tree with fruits of chaos, caused by Nexus events scattered across time and places.

You wished the dust would settle and this was all simply a dream but you realize this was his plan all along.

Bomb the timeline. Distract the TVA.

There is one thing you know about Loki. He is moved by revenge and resentment.

As if you possess some sort of telepsychic powers, a part of you feels that danger itself is within the vicinity of the TVA. The variant is here, you just know it.

You hope Mobius is okay.

Scurrying down the winding hallways, past the hurried time hunters, and past the time theaters, you find yourself heading towards the golden doors of the Time Keepers’ chambers. In a time of uncertainty, your gut is your only source of guidance.

At the end of the hallway, you see bodies on the ground, nearly lifeless—time hunters, either unarmed or batons missing. You plucked one of the sizzling batons from the ground as you cautiously stepped around the laying bodies. You clutch it tightly to calm the blood rushing to your head, pounding along with your heartbeat as you take on the venture into the foyer of the grand chambers with secrets not wanting to be unveiled.

You round the corner, following the wooden panels for walls laid along the entrance. The glowing end of the baton within your grasp reflects off the black porcelain tiles beneath your careful feet. You hear voices, grunts, and shouting as if in combat.

Then, you see them. Loki in his variant jacket and a woman with locks of blonde and streaks of black. She adorns a headpiece of golden horns—one broken off.

Isn't Loki supposed to be at Haven Hills?

Recognizing the presence of another, the two turn to you, daggers still held to each other's throats. Loki eyes you with wide eyes, a silent plea whether to help or stand down, you’re unsure. Your gaze shifts to the woman once more who watches you with an equal resemblance to the other.

Then, it hits you. You recognize the dark emerald cloak she wears. You know exactly who she is. You just never thought it would be a she.

“You!” Your exclamation is bitter, and it’s directed towards the woman who seems to be strangely expectant of your remark as if she already knows who you are. She is L1190, a Loki variant. The one who slashed you with the TVA’s baton, scaring your left cheek. The one who hauled you through the time door and left you stranded in Sakaar for thousands of years.

You know exactly what she has done. She knows what she has done.

“You did this to me!” you gesture to the scar on your left cheek, eyes fixated solely on her, nearing the two with caution. You’re angry. Very angry. All pent-up rage begging to be set free.

Before Loki could even perceive the current situation he landed in between two women who very much want him dead, you’re already swinging the baton to her face with full force but she blocks it with her sword but slightly staggers in her step. You glare at her. She seems a little surprised. In an instant, you take a step back and go for another strike to her rib, but she blocks you again, sliding away and dodging your hit by a mere second. You growl out of frustration, seething through your teeth, and without hesitation, you strike again. The fight goes on—strike, block, strike, dodge. And with every blow, your intensity escalates, each a little harder than the one before. Loki stands there, watching, speechless and frozen.

You strike again, the baton crackling less than an inch away from her face but she dodges just in time, swinging her sword across your face. It grazes your cheek, now a gash of crimson on top of your scar, and with the sudden blow of searing pain, you lose your balance.

The variant spins into a kick that sweeps your legs out from under, knocking you hard onto the ground. The baton rolls out from your grip. Your hand flies to the gash, trickling with blood.

“Hey!”

The brawl comes to a halt. You seize yourself up from the ground, back and head aching, turning to see Judge Renslayer accompanied by two hunters, batons held up in defense position. You were about to reach for your own that was a stretch away when suddenly, you felt a hand grip you by the collar, hauling you to your knees. Her sword held to your neck.

“Come any closer and I’ll kill her.”

“Go for it.”

Your eyes are wide in shock, all anger towards the variant now turning into this churning feeling of betrayal that resides within your abdomen. Judge Renslayer doesn’t look at you, focus fixated on the two variants—it’s like you’re not even there.

The three start to charge towards you and you involuntarily shut your eyes. Then, as quick as a rattlesnake, Loki grabs the tempad hung at her waist and sends the three of you falling through the ground.

That’s the thing about Loki. He gets inside your head, makes you think that for once, he may be worth not pruning. Now, with your back landing hard on top of him, all you could think about is wanting to strangle him to death.

TAGLIST:

@lareinedususpense

@poubxlle

@mystoragehatesme

@the-maroon-panda

@kashasenpai

#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson imagine #loki imagine #loki series #loki spoilers #sylvie #mobius #ravonna renslayer

60 notes · View notes

siriushxney · 3 years

Text

⊱┊ easily !

pairing — sapnap x gn!reader

wordcount — 2k

warnings — angsty, arguing (happy ending)

song — easily | bruno major

note ! — this is my second time reposting, because tumblr hates my guts and decides to make things repeat/disappear so :|

nothing was easy about love. then again, if love didn’t have it’s bumps and bruises — could it truly be considered love? the act of loving someone is something that is both a blessing and a curse wrapped into one. you see their best, and you see their worst — you deal with, and take all the blows that they take.

and in with love — arguments flare.

some over stupid things, like who would do the dishes, if the other did the laundry, what you were having for diner — but some were harsher. words that neither meant, thrown at the other without care or thought behind them, and actions that despite being little, spoke thousands.

when love begins to bring stress from the arguments, it brings along doubt, anger, and fear. the nagging feeling at the back of your mind that is constantly telling you that you don’t mean anything to them, that you can be easily replaced, that quitting is a valid choice — distance makes an appearance between the two of you.

but when one pulled away, the other reached and pulled them back. it was what love was.

—

sapnap and you had always been an honest couple. sharing everything and anything, never scared to speak your mind, and not afraid of confrontation. but with the both of you being strong willed and blunt, things could get tangled and rough in a matter of seconds — and as of lately, things were rough more than they were enjoyable. fights happened daily, food was consumed in silence, and you had gone to sleep in the guest bedroom. the distance that was now between the two of you was easily notable — even his viewers had noticed something in him had shifted.

with your laptop sat one your lap, you typed away — the assignment that was due in merely a week adding to the already present stress. everything had seemed to be going wrong lately — the topic you were given to research happened to be one of the topics that you had not been quite able to grasp, you had somehow lost your favourite pair of shoes, and everything with sapnap.

you love him, that wasn't something you questioned — but the thoughts of if it was worth it with the direction that the two of you were heading in, plagued your mind. did you want to put yourself through the pain that would come eventually? or did you want to protect yourself from it to the best of your ability?

the words you typed appeared on the screen quickly, but just as fast as they appeared, you were quick to erase them. everything you had typed didn’t quite come out the way you wanted them to — but no matter how much you deleted and retyped them, nothing else came to mind. it almost reminded you of sapnap and your relationship.

after every fight, an apology would be said, but nothing would change. within the next twenty-four hours or less, another one - just like the previous - would take place. you were backspacing, and then rewriting the same thing, over, and over again.

with a frustrated sigh, you closed the laptop and pushed it aside to where your books laid. your hand came up to harshly rub at your sore and tired eyes, wishing that a calm and restful sleep would overcome you. but that was simply a figment of hope that your brain came up with. you had too much to do, to be resting.

the thump of your feet hitting the ground, the loud cracks and pops from stiff joints, and a small grunt filled the room. after sitting in one position for hours, you'd expect your body to be stiff.

“stupid professor, and his stupid assignments,” you huffed as you exited your room, turning your head quitioningly towards sapnap’s recording room, waiting and listening for any sign of him streaming. with no sudden shouts, curses, or screams, you assumed he wasn't — that meant either two things, one, he was in your shared room, or he was downstairs. you hoped it was the previous.

tiptoeing down the stairs, you attempted not to make a noise in the case that he was on the main floor, not wanting to face him after your most recent fight. but the universe seemed to be working against you, as you saw his frame laying on the couch with a movie playing quietly on the tv.

despite being as quiet as you possibly could have been, he had noticed your entrance — his head tilted in your direction before turning his attention back to the movie with a now present frown.

he’s such a child.

then again you were no better.

this game of he said, they said was annoying to you — but in this situation, you felt as if you were correct, just like how he felt like he was correct. neither of you would admit that the other was just as right as you were, both desperate to take a win over the other.

grabbing your keys from the counter top, you started for the front door — your shoes easily being slipped on before you grabbed for the door handle.

“where are you going?” no movie could be heard playing anymore, making it easy to hear sapnap’s voice — something that had been spoken with an emotion that you refused to believe was there — worry.

“I’m just going to the convenience store.”

a small thump, followed by quick footsteps towards your directions caused an unwanted smile to appear on your face. but as quick as it appeared, it was wiped off. sapnap came around the corner, grabbing his shoes and not bothering to put them on — simply holding them in his hands as he gave you a shooing movement.

“c’mon. I’ll come with,” sapnap pushed passed you, through the front door, and towards your car in a haste.

“... okay then.” you closed the door behind you as you stepped out, making sure to lock it before heading to the drivers side — sapnap already sat comfortably inside with his knees and head facing his window.

he was still going to be stubborn, huh?

—

the drive was silent — not that you expected anything else. the music wasn’t even playing loudly — merely soft background noise to keep the both of you from going more insane then you already were. the drive itself should’ve been only six minutes top, had turned into ten — every light being red rather than the preferable green.

your car lurched forward as you angrily slammed your foot on the brake at yet another red light — sapnap and you being abruptly launched forward before coming back and hitting the seat.

“jesus, calm down would you?”

“don’t even start with me,” you didn’t have to look at him to see the way his eyes furrowed and frown deepened.

“what the hell is your problem lately-”

“what the hell is my problem?! you — you're my problem lately, sapnap!” you whipped your head over to him, watching the immediate look of hurt cross his face before it contorted into one anger.

“you know I’m trying here — I thought that us going out somewhere we usually go to would help us, but apparently I was wrong!” sapnap through his hands up in rage. “you make everything so difficult! why can’t you for once in your life, just stop arguing with everything I say and do?!”

the red light still shone brightly — no sign of it changing. and with no cars other than your own on the road at this time of night, there was nothing other than the deep breathing, and the quiet music playing from your radio. neither of you said a word — both of you still trying to wrap your head around not only the others, but your own words.

words that you never meant to, or should’ve said.

you turned your head away from him, trying to hide the way your eyes gleamed with fresh tears — but when they tried to make their way down your face, you brought your palms up to your eyes and pushed. the pressure of your palms helped keep not only the tears, but your anger in.

“Y/N i’m-”

“please can we just not?”

the apology was on the tip of his tongue.

“what are we doing?”

sapnap could feel his mouth run dry, and his chest tighten.

“what?”

“I mean… what are we doing?” your words came out strained and low, the effects of yelling and being yelled at hitting you full force. “this- us — what are we doing here?”

he didn’t know how to respond — the answer for your question had never crossed his mind. to him, despite the arguing and yelling, him and you would never end — it was the two of you till the end. but with you questioning everything right in front of him, he couldn’t help but panic.

“I’m- we’re-” he tried to put words together, but nothing made sense. he wrote and rewrote a script in his head, pleading for something to make sense, or at least help him bring you out of the hole of doubt and questioning you’ve dug yourself into.

nothing comes easily — not skill, not life, not love. you had to work for everything you have, and you will fall, and get scraped, and fail — but things could always be improved, as long as you fought for it.

“we’re doing something that is right — we’re right,” his words were not enough to make you look at him, but he saw your head lift slightly. “we’re not easy — we’re messy, and mean, and for some reason, stupidly stubborn… but that doesn’t mean that we aren't right — arent perfect in our own way,” your head turned more towards him. “we’re not easy, and to be honest, we never will be. that’s just us. and right now, we're in a rocky part — but just because it won’t come easily, doesn't mean that the road we’re on won’t even out once again. you need to trust me, just like I need to trust you.”

a green light shone down onto the two of you, telling you to go — but just like before, no cars were around. it was just him and you.

“I love you Y/N — and don’t you ever forget or doubt that. I’m an asshole sometimes, but I’d never lie to you about that.”

you wished that the seatbelt that held you stills against your seat could vanish so you could tackle him with a hug — but your place on the road, and the now approaching car from behind stopped you from doing so. pushing lightly on the gas, you went through the green light, and pulled into the convenience store that you had been on your way to.

sapnap watched as you pulled yourself from the car quickly, the sense of ache and worry taking over his body as he pulled himself out of the car after you. “look, I’m sorry-” a body crashed into his own, nerely knocking him to the ground — harsh, shaking shoulders and wetness was felt against his chest.

“I’m so sorry — for everything,” you didn’t try to hide your sobs — with the heat of everything going on, you knew it was better to let everything out then to bottle it up. “and I love you so much, you don't even know — everything sucks without you by my side.”

he couldn't stop the tears that filled his own eyes — finally able to hold you again despite the circumstances and what it took to get here. burying his face into the side of your neck, he let his tears fall — the both of you standing, swaying slightly as you let everything go.

you don’t know how long you stayed in the position, but you didn’t care to keep track — your only focus being the boy pressed against you, holding you tightly to his chest, as he whispered soft words of love and apologies.

it wouldn’t come easily, but the least you could do was try.

#::a love like this #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #dream smp imagine #dream smp x reader #::sapnap #sapnap imagine #sapnap x reader

123 notes · View notes

lucientelrunya · 3 years

Text

Like a lonely house pt 2

Chaotic me deciced to switch back to present tense (already edited part one) and I'm still quite clueless how to tag. But it gave me so much joy to see people enjoy my little idea.

Please feel free to point out any mistakes you spot, I'm always trying to improve my writing and stop myself from agonizing over every sentence and constantly rewrite everything...

I think Zhang Rishan might be a tad bit dramatic in this part, but I hope you enjoy this anyway :)

The blackness and cotton in his head only slowly recede, permeated by the sound of muffled voices Zhang Rishan knows. The voices carry an urgency, an impalpable sense of importance that drags him back to consciousness with a sudden harshness. Still it takes more effort than it should to blink his eyes open and for a moment he is confused why there is a stone ceiling above him and why little white flakes are clinging to his lashes. He rubs at his eyes, his movement sluggish and his arm feels heavy, a dull ache that causes the memories to come rushing back. The strange tomb, the force controlling him, the ritual, the pool - Ba Ye. It’s not a dream - nightmare? - or at least not all of it and he sits up way too quickly for his body to adjust. Thankfully someone grabs his shoulders - again - to keep him upright.

It takes Zhang Rishan another long moment to blink away the black spots and recognize Luo Que beside him, offering him an already open bottle of water, which is considerate and much appreciated. He really needs to drink something, at least to get the taste of copper and something he can’t even begin to describe out of his mouth. The strange pale liquid has dried all over his skin and clothes like some sort of clay, cracking and peeling off in flakes and powdery dust when he moves. He opts to ignore it for now, content with getting it off his lips and out of his eyes.

Luo Que doesn’t say anything and patiently waits for him to gulp down most of the bottle before he sits back again, letting go of Zhang Rishan’s shoulders and looking at him with a barely there question in his eyes. And, yeah, Zhang Rishan would like to know what’s going on here himself, thank you very much. With his vision mostly free of black spots and blurring edges he dares to look around him, having already spotted Zhang Qiling’s black clad legs next to him from the corner of his eye. He is lying on a sleeping bag right next to him, with Huo Daofu examining him quietly and unhurriedly.

And Zhang Rishan’s brain is still mushy enough to take a long moment to truly comprehend what he is looking at when he finds the source of the voices. Liu Sang and Pangzi arguing is not some rare occurrence (as he has learned in the last two days), although it's not really arguing and more of a friendly stage of bickering, but Liu Sang and Wang Pangzi arguing with Ba Ye is not normal, not in the least. So it really hasn’t been a dream or his imagination.

An illusion then, maybe? A hallucination, like the meteorite inside the tomb and Er Ye getting back his dead wife? Maybe he is still in the pool and all of this is just a hallucination? But back then the whole fake world had frozen once Ba Ye had started to doubt and Zhang Rishan is absolutely doubting the possibility of this being real. It feels too much like Er Ye’s illusion of getting Yatou back and Zhang Rishan has lived long enough to know that there is no way to truly bring a dead person back to life.

No one freezes and no one vanishes, not even when he puts his hand on his arm to push a thumb into the wound beneath the bandages and elicits a spark of pain that is absolutely and undeniably real. It quickly vanishes again, his body cataloguing it under ‘inconvenient but not life threatening’ and opting to ignore it like he had been trained. But it leaves Zhang Rishan fairly confident in his assumption that this is not an illusion.

He must have been staring, lost in his contemplation of what is real and what isn’t, because suddenly Ba Ye is turning towards him, a look of relief flashing over his face. “Lieutenant! You are awake! Please, please tell these people who I am!” He sounds worried but also a little irritated and whiny, and so much like the Ba Ye Zhang Rishan remembers. For a moment he allows himself to just watch Ba Ye come over and squat down in front of him. He had obviously tried to wipe his glasses off on his equally stained scarf resulting in smudged pale lines all over his glasses and his face.

And he has to fight the urge to reach out and touch, to convince himself that Ba Ye is real, because he has been dead and gone for almost 80 years. Even if they never found his body, even if he had been hidden somewhere by Qiu De Kao for whatever reason there is just no way for him to be alive right now, alive and the same, he is no Zhang, he has no qilin blood.

Wu Xie kneeling down beside him, half on Zhang Qiling’s sleeping bag, breaks the moment. “You know him” and although it’s not a question Zhang Rishan nods. He glances at Wu Xie, who looks worried but also curious and intrigued, always drawn to mysteries. Pangzi and Liu Sang come over, too, placing themselves behind Ba Ye like they are prepared to grab and restrain him if he tries anything, but they look at Zhang Rishan. With at least 5 pairs of expectant eyes on him, probably six, he has to squish the feeling of vulnerability and helplessness that wants to crawl out and drape itself all over him. Instead he consciously straightens his back, squares his shoulders and shifts to sit cross-legged.

He has no idea what’s going on here, no idea how to tell Ba Ye where or rather when he is now (because right now he can’t fight the acceptance that this is a living, breathing Ba Ye who just hasn’t aged a day) or what happened in the pool or if everything did really happen like he thinks. If that being had been there, in the pool and had granted him a wish he hadn’t ever put into words, had made a fleeting thought into a new reality. Each of them is looking at him like he has all the answers and he hates that he is sitting here on the floor of a dimly lit cave, on a sleeping bag someone else has rolled out for him, with bandages around his arms and feeling so utterly helpless. He can’t suppress the bitter thought that Fo Ye would have known what to do.

Taking a deep breath he decides to start with what he is sure of, which is the answer to Wu Xie’s “You know him”. “I do know this man, his name is Qi Tiezui, also known as Ba Ye”, and the name and the title should mean something to at least Wu Xie and maybe Huo Daofu, even if they obviously don’t recognize him from old photos. Maybe because they never paid attention to those pictures, which are faded and grainy compared to what even the simplest smartphone camera is able to capture nowadays or maybe because Ba Ye looks like he took a mud bath. Maybe both.

On to the second thing he is quite certain of: “As to what happened, I’m not really sure myself. As soon as I entered the tomb some force took over my body and I suppose Zhang Qiling's as well and we came to this cave to enact some kind of blood sacrifice ritual for whatever deity they are worshipping here.” No need to point out he had been meant to be the sacrifice, that bit is quite obvious, although he is not sure why Zhang Qiling is the one still unconscious then. “There was chanting, but I wasn’t able to understand it”, he adds, which makes Liu Sang nod at him. “Yeah, I heard you through the wall, but wasn’t able to identify the words either.”

Zhang Rishan considers asking why they hadn’t followed them into the cave and tried to stop the whole thing, if only to give him a little more time to try and find words for what happened after that, but he doesn’t have to voice his question. “Yeah, almost broke my damn nose trying to follow you two through that convenient little magic wall that suddenly turned into a real wall after you two went through, and we couldn’t find a mechanism or another entry or hear anything. Imagine our immense joy at hearing this idiot here say there’s ‘eerie chanting’!” Pangzi grumbles and there is no need for him to add that the use of some explosives had been on the table. Or had they used explosives?

“Did you blow a hole into the wall?” Zhang Rishan asks, eyeing a pile of broken stone in the vicinity of the wall, but Pangzi shakes his head. “Nah, I wanted to, but then the ground started to shake and - poof - the entrance was back and actually visible.” It takes Zhang Rishan another moment to realize the rubble is what’s left of the statue he had only glimpsed upon entering the cave. Had the earthquake destroyed it? Had it even been an earthquake?

Wu Xie humms beside him, following his line of sight for a moment before he points to the wall behind the rubble. “There are some murals depicting locals worshipping a deity that I have never seen before. But it seems to be for protection against droughts or bad harvests, your garden-variety-harvest-god to ensure plenty of food and the likes. Nothing that can bring dead people back to life.” Ah, right back to the burning question.

Ba Ye sputters quite helplessly at that. “Dead? What do you mean dead? Do I look dead to you? Lieutenant, what is going on here, who are these people?” Considering that Ba Ye’s face is still mostly covered in white it wouldn’t be that unreasonable to mistake him for a ghost. But beneath that he doesn’t look dead or like a walking corpse, he looks just like Zhang Rishan remembers him, just like the last time he had seen him before he had vanished. And he still has no idea how to tell Ba Ye that everyone he knows is dead. Well, everyone except Zhang Rishan.

“I’m Wu Xie, this is Wang Pangzi, Liu Sang, Luo Que and behind me are Huo Daofu and Zhang Qiling.” Wu Xie blindly pats Zhang Qiling’s lower leg when he says his name, his eyes never leaving Ba Ye’s face, gauging his reaction to two familiar family names. And Ba Ye doesn’t disappoint, confusion clearly written all over his face. He is mouthing ‘Wu’ and ‘Huo’ while his eyes scan Wu Xie’s face before he looks at Zhang Rishan with a mixture of confusion, incomprehension and helplessness.

“He is Wu Laogou’s grandson”, Zhang Rishan says softly, because their relation is the most obvious to emphasize how much time has passed and the most obvious in terms of resemblance, Ba Ye must have seen that. And Zhang Rishan holds his gaze until Ba Ye looks down, takes a deep breath, closes his mouth and lets himself plop back down to sit on the ground, his whole body curling inwards. This would be a lot to take in for everybody and Zhang Rishan would like to give Ba Ye a moment to compose himself without everyone else staring at him. There are things he hasn’t told them yet, but he is still not sure how to put any of that into words.

“Did the murals say anything about something being confined here?” Zhang Rishan asks Wu Xie, who just looks puzzled. “Confined? What do you mean?” And he really has to try and put it into words, there is no way around it, is there? He takes another deep breath through his nose. “For the ceremony I was kneeling in that pool and when the tremors started I fell into whatever liquid is in there, and it was like - like there was something in there with me. Like it was a living thing with a consciousness and whatever we did in that ceremony it set that thing free.” He can already feel some doubtful looks but nobody starts to interrupt him and Wu Xie actually nods thoughtfully like he can imagine that, so he continues: “It was communicating with me, not with words, more like with feelings and impressions,” and he just waits for Huo Daofu to interrupt him, to say something about blood loss and hallucinations, but he doesn’t, he just doesn’t - “It made very clear that it had been imprisoned here for whatever purpose and that it was just so very thankful that I set it free.”

Everyone is quiet, mulling over those words. There are still so many questions, like who or what had controlled them to enact this ceremony? Had it been the imprisoned being? Or something else? But why? And who had sealed the tomb? And why?

“So you set some ancient being free and someone from your past turns up. What if he is no human but that being in the shape of someone it saw while it was inside your mind?” Liu Sang questions, looking at Ba Ye thoughtfully who stops his calculations to stare back incredulously. “What? First I’m dead, now I’m some preternatural being? Let me tell you, I’m just a fortune teller!” He acts and sounds just like Ba Ye, but Liu Sang has a point, that being had looked into his mind, had probably had access to all his thoughts and memories. It makes his head hurt even thinking about it.

Pangzi and Liu Sang start bickering about how to test that theory, to find out if someone is human and it only gets more chaotic when Zhang Qiling wakes up and Wu Xie starts worrying over him, asking him how he feels and if he is alright while Huo Daofu tries to rule out a concussion. Zhang Rishan tries to ignore them for the moment, even though he would like to get Zhang Qiling’s version of the ceremony. He feels torn between the possible explanations for this situation, but why would some ancient being that had been trapped in a cave for centuries if not millenia take human form and stay with them? To play tricks on him? Or maybe-

“Lieutenant, if so much time has passed that the grandson of Wu Laogu is at least as old as I am, how come you haven’t aged a day?” Ba Ye’s question jolts him out of these thoughts. “It’s a Zhang-family-thing”, he answers, because Ba Ye already knows so much about their family that it should be enough. Ba Ye nods, visibly brightening at the answer, as if he had hoped for something along those lines. “So, why don’t we just ask Fo Ye for help to prove I’m just a normal human? I mean, if that being was in your head and knows what you know it doesn’t know everything about me.”

Of course he would think of Fo Ye as the answer to everything and of course Zhang Rishan has to say it now. He shakes his head slightly and forces himself to watch Ba Ye’s face and catalogue his reaction. “No. Fo Ye is not with us anymore.” It’s cruel, so cruel to tell him like this and Zhang Rishan hates it even more than he hates saying the words at all. Ba Ye’s whole face crumples but he visibly tries to hide his distress. “How on earth am I supposed to prove I’m just a normal human, then?” he bristles, obviously trying to distract himself with anger. “Tell me! What should I do!” Those last words are directed towards Pangzi and Liu Sang behind him who actually stop their bickering and have the grace to look embarrassed.

“Why would that being even want to stay here? What could be in it for... it?” Pangzi voices Zhang Rishan’s thoughts from before. “Maybe it needs help to leave the cave?” Wu Xie suggests, joining the conversation again after assuring himself that Zhang Qiling is fine aside from a cut on his forehead. “Or maybe it’s just lonely and looking for some company?” Huo Daofu throws in and Zhang Rishan isn’t sure if it’s meant to be a joke or a real suggestion. But if they are just casually throwing around theories he can add one, too.

“Maybe it’s an illusion.” Even if there is no meteorite around and even if he had set that theory aside before. Ba Ye inhales sharply at that suggestion and slaps Zhang Rishan’s knee a little harder than necessary. “Aiya! An Illusion? Does that feel like an illusion? Is there a meteorite around that you haven’t told me about? Shouldn’t you be able to tell the difference?” Ba Ye slaps him again and Zhang Rishan just lets him, flinching only a little. It makes Luo Que beside him tense noticeably, like he contemplates grabbing Ba Ye’s arm and stopping him from hitting his boss, but in the end he doesn’t move and just watches.

“Should I? I mean you were the one who realized it was an illusion back then, and you guided us out of it.” Ba Ye harrumphs at that, knitting his brows. “It’s not an illusion”, Wu Xie says and the certainty in his voice makes it easy to just accept it. After all Wu Xie had come with him and should be a real person, even if they stepped into some fake world at some point, just like Fo Ye, Ba Ye, Er Ye and Chen Pi had been real people who stepped into the meteorite.

“Thank you!” Ba Ye says, giving Wu Xie a small bow. “And if you let me, I can show you that I am perfectly capable of leaving this place all on my own.” Which leaves them with: a lonely godly being looking for company (or a bored godly being looking for some fun?) or the possibility that it is really Ba Ye.

For a moment everyone is quiet again and Zhang Rishan takes the chance to ask Zhang Qiling how he had experienced being possessed or remote controlled or whatever it had been. His answer is disappointingly simple and his experience almost the same as Zhang Rishan’s, except that he had not been in contact with another consciousness but had been knocked out really hard by something as soon as the cave had started to shake. Which confirms Zhang Rishan’s suspicion that there had been something with him in the pool.

He gets up, startling both Ba Ye and Luo Que with the sudden movement, making them stand up with him as if they are preparing to catch him again. It’s endearing and disconcerting at the same time and he opts to ignore the way it makes him feel for the moment, but tucks the feeling away to pick it apart later.

The pool is surprisingly dry and empty, but covered in the same white flaky residue both Zhang Rishan and Ba Ye are covered in, which is reassuring because it means there had been something before. For a moment Zhang Rishan just stares at the empty pool, trying and failing to find a hole or a crack in the stone through which the liquid could have vanished. Surely it did not just evaporate into thin air? His memory is not clear enough to dispel the thought that maybe the liquid had not vanished but changed its shape and made itself into a human being.

“Huh? Why is it empty?” Pangzi asks which makes Zhang Rishan release a breath he hadn’t even been aware of holding. “It wasn’t empty when you could get in?” he reassures himself, looking at the other man. “Hah! Wish it had been, do you have any idea how hard it was to get you out of that stuff?” Pangzi snorts and points at the smudged edge of the pool, where a very visible track of white covers the ground all the way over to their sleeping bags. It also makes Zhang Rishan notice the white smudges all over Pangzis clothes only to find the man grinning at him when he looks up again. The corners of his mouth twitch involuntarily in quiet amusement and he nods his thanks, which makes Pangzi grin even more.

With the pool providing no answers at all Zhang Rishan walks over to the wall to look at the murals, soon joined by Wu Xie who points to the parts of the murals he had mentioned before. It shows a group of people in clothing Zhang Rishan has never seen building this tomb. Maybe some minority? They have no idea how old this tomb is, after all or how long it had been sealed. In the next part of the mural it almost looks like they are summoning the unknown god and not merely worshipping and some part of Zhang Rishan’s mind resonates with that thought. The ceremony looks just like what the two of them had enacted, one person in the pool and the other at the altar with a dagger. But it almost seems like the sacrifice on the mural dissolves into the pool, a thought he really doesn’t want to dwell on.

After that the mural gets quite confusing, depicting the statue that is broken now and people celebrating rich harvests, without any clear connection. He looks back at the picture of the god, tracing the faded lines with his fingers trying to recall everything the being in the pool had tried to tell him through thoughts and feelings and suddenly he understands. Or at least he thinks he does.

“They didn’t worship the god, they captured it and confined it in here because as long as it was here everything around it would be thriving, rich harvests, no sicknesses, people living long and full lives.” As soon as he says it he knows it’s true and he finds Wu Xie nodding next to him. “So, you set that god free and as a gesture of thanks it returned a dead person from your past?” And Zhang Rishan knows dead people don’t come back to life, but this is a god they are talking about and it had made everything else grow, had kept people healthy and strong. Maybe it could do this too?

“I’m still not dead and I was never dead!” Ba Ye protests from beside him and reminds Zhang Rishan that he still doesn’t know what happened when Ba Ye vanished back then, how or when he died. He looks at him and contemplates asking just that but somehow he is afraid of the answer. “Maybe you died and you just forgot.” Pangzi says, pushing at one of the larger rocks left over from the statue with his foot.

“How would someone forget his own death, this is ridiculous! An hour ago I was just in my room, enjoying a nice cup of tea and suddenly I find myself in this cave, almost drowning in that pool!” Ba Ye gestures wildly and angrily with his arm, almost slapping Zhang Rishan in the face in the process, but Pangzi is unimpressed. “How could you not forget your death? Or the fact that you died. Maybe you just dropped dead drinking your tea, things like that happen. Who knows.”

“He didn’t drop dead, he vanished without a trace, leaving everything behind”, Zhang Rishan interjects. If Ba Ye had just dropped dead there would have been a funeral and it would have been just as sad and hard, but there wouldn’t have been a mystery, no reason to wish to know what happened.

“Well, maybe he did drop dead and that god plucked his body from the past, brought him back to life and put him here”, Wu Xie shrugs, “I mean, my terminal lung cancer got healed by magic golden coffin water in thunder city, so it’s not that far-fetched.”

And - oh, oh - realisation hits him like a punch to the sternum, taking his breath away, almost making him double over and sink to his knees. It had been him. Ba Ye never just vanished, had never been kidnapped by the Japanese or Qiu De Kao. He had never died, he had been snatched away by this being - god - whatever - and placed here and now, with Zhang Rishan, because it had wanted to give him something he had lost. But Ba Ye had never been lost, he had been stolen, stolen because Zhang Rishan is selfish and thoughtless and cruel and - He has done this. He has done this to Ba Ye. And to Fo Ye. And -

He can’t breathe. How can he ever say this? How can he ever tell Ba Ye? He can never be forgiven for this, there is no way, absolutely no way. Look out for Ba Ye, that had been his order, the one most important to Fo Ye and thus the most important to Zhang Rishan. And he had failed, miserably - no, he had done the opposite! And for the first time in quite a while he wishes Fo Ye was the one with a long life and not him. Fo Ye would never have done something so stupid.

Unbidden he remembers the illusion he had fallen victim to below the Chen tree, Fo Ye with his gun pointed at him, disappointed, so disappointed and he wishes it had been real, that he had died that day so he would have never been able to come here today. But Ba Ye had been missing before, he had vanished before Zhang Rishan had ever been to this tomb and shared his memories with a god. There would have been no reason to wish to know what happened that day if nothing had happened. And that really makes his head hurt, how is it even possible? How does this work, today and the past linked like this? Like it had always been meant to be this way?

#I wrote this instead of sleeping #dmbj fic #mystic nine #zhang rishan #qi tiezui #fuba #wibbly wobbly timey wimey #ba ye

25 notes · View notes