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happy-emmdings · 1 year

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Survivor’s Heart

on AO3 Category: one shot, missing scene, canon compliant

Summary: Emma and Killian have a long conversation after his heart is back where it belongs. Honest explanations lead to some long needed revelations. More walls are brought down to bring them closer than ever before. Set at the end of episode 4x11.

Word count: 3 462

Author’s note: This has been sitting in my drafts for quite some time… Anyway, Regina can do shots on her own, Emma just almost witnessed the love her life get murdered. No one will convince me that she didn’t stay with him longer after that.

Holding a beating heart in her hands is such a strange sensation. Holding his heart. She cradles it, gently with both hands, marveling at the bright red glow, even if stained with some inky splotches swimming inside. It beats gently and steadily. It's warm and smooth and she's afraid she'll drop it. She can't help but ponder the fragility of it as well as the incredible resilience with which it has survived despite everything. She can't get the image of what happened earlier out of her head. Killian powerlessly sinking to his knees, screaming in pain as Gold squeezes his cruel hand. The feeling of being frozen in place and rendered utterly powerless to stop it was the worst part. A few more seconds and had Belle not turned up... She doesn't even want to go there.

She looks up at him, fully aware of how vulnerable and trusting he is being with her in that moment. His smile is genuine, his eyes so soft as he nods a little, letting her know he feels safe with his heart in her hands.

"You know I've never really done this before, right?" she bites her lip nervously.

"Held my heart? You've done it longer than you know," he teases.

"You know what I mean," she rolls her eyes despite the seriousness of the moment.

"Just be gen-"

Too late. Emma plunges the heart into his chest, deciding to do it quickly – like ripping of a band aid. It knocks the wind right out of him. Ooh, it looks like it hurt.

She goes to apologize but he cuts her off midsentence with a passionate kiss. And there's no doubt in her mind, it's all of him again. Her back hits the wall and she continues to kiss him as he leans in closer. They both savor the moment. Precious and intimate. The relief is almost intoxicating.

He pulls away ever so slightly, their foreheads and noses still touching. She reluctantly lets him, biting her lip and smiling.

"I told you, Swan," he whispers into the gap between their lips, holding her gaze with soft, reassuring eyes. "I'm a survivor."

—

They make their way upstairs to have some privacy. They are both relieved to be safe and alive but there's still a lot to talk about and they are aware of that too. Killian invites her into the room where he has been staying ever since he brought her back to Storybrooke, since he doesn't have his ship.

It's pretty bare, except for the old-fashioned furniture and shoddy decor, the room has little personality. He didn't exactly bring luggage with him from the Enchanted Forest. It reminds her of the time when she first arrived here, before she even moved to Mary Margaret's and stayed in a room just like this.

He takes his leather jacket off and hangs it on a chair, then pulls out a second chair and offers her to sit. He sits opposite her on the bed. Suddenly, anxious tension settles on his shoulders. He looks down at his hand fidgeting with his hook and lets out a deep breath.

"I- " he says quietly but fumbles.

She reaches out to hold his hand encouragingly, letting him know he can tell her anything. She supposes this is how she learns why he was in that whole mess in the first place. On the walk to Granny’s, he only briefly explained that Gold was trying to free himself from the dagger and crushing his heart was part of it, but he hasn't said much else. She suspects his heart has been out of his chest for longer than just tonight. She recalls the moment earlier that day when he brought the news of the portal, acting so bizarrely unlike himself. The absent look in his eyes, the fleeting, dispassionate kiss, the way his hand held onto her as if it had a mind of its own, fighting against an invisible force, gripping her so tightly as it shook... like a drowning man grasping his only lifeline.

And she starts thinking back, searching her memory for earlier signs like this. She feels a sharp pang of guilt. She let him down. She should have... she should have been able to save him. She was so preoccupied with everything while Gold was playing this sick game of his and she didn't notice. And she almost lost him. God, she almost lost him.

"I suppose I owe you some explanations," he says.

"Yeah," she says softly, "you wanna tell me how this whole mess started? How long did he... you know, have your heart?"

He cringes, probably as he recalls the events, he is about to relay to her.

"Remember the other day... when you were about to give up your powers? At the seaside mansion?"

"Oh my god," she frowns. She feels another bite of guilt. Gold had been doing this to him for days and she hasn't noticed until today. A knot forms in her stomach at the idea of Rumplestiltskin ripping out Killian's heart, while she was... she stops in her tracks, as it dawns on her.

"Wait. But that was Gold's idea. Was that... some kind of trap?"

Killian scoffs bitterly, looking down at their joint hands.

"Luckily, you were clever enough to not walk into it," he says with a hint of a smile. "Unlike me, that's for sure. I was a bloody fool, Swan. I made so many mistakes."

He looks up at her and the look in his eyes is raw and scared and tinged with anger. Not at her, but at himself.

"Killian?" she prompts him to continue but waits patiently.

"I suppose I should start from the beginning," he says, caressing his hook like he's remembering something.

"The beginning?" she gives him a confused look.

"Our date. My... hand. That's how I got myself entangled in all kinds of shady dealings with the crocodile. That's how I came to know his plans. How I walked into his trap."

"I remember. You had your hook back the next day, you said the Dark One's magic wasn't what you expected."

"Aye," he smiles bitterly and takes a deep breath. Emma senses a story coming and braces herself.

He spills his guts. He tells her about blackmailing Gold into giving him his hand back so that he could hold her with both hands. He tells her how Gold told him the hand would bring out the worst in him, make him the violent, ruthless pirate he once was. He didn't listen. She aches for him when she realizes how he still misses being able to use two hands, despite being used and well-adjusted to his hook for centuries. Why was it the date that prompted him to make such a request to the Dark One? Did he feel like holding her with one hand wasn't enough? Was it not enough for him or did he think it wasn't enough for her? She recalls all the throwaway remarks people – unfortunately including herself at a few occasions – have made about him only having one hand.

She struggles to find the right words, instead she just takes both his hook and hand in her hands. She wants him to know she accepts him as he is, that she never thought less of him for the lack of a hand, that she's actually fond of the hook, that he's enough.

He recounts the run-in with the thief in the restaurant and his fear of losing control. She takes it all in. This is where the story gets darker.

He explains how he didn't want to revert back to the man he used to be, how he wanted to be better, how he wanted to be someone he could one day be proud of, how he wanted to be someone she could be proud of too. The thought of that being ruined by a foolish deal with the Dark One was something he couldn't bear. He admits he tried blackmailing his way out of it but Gold outsmarted him and he ended up making a blind deal.

Emma leans back a little when he tells her he helped Gold capture some old man into a magical hat that sucked power out of people and pulled them in too. Gold finally rid him of his hand after that, but kept the security tape for blackmail.

"I should have just told you, I'm sorry," he says.

Emma doesn't react right away. She's taking it all in. Mixed emotions swirl in her head at those revelations. The way he went about it was wrong, she knows. She's a little mad. But there's one more thing she realizes. Killian was so desperate to be a better man, that he begged his enemy to take his hand away, again. He had wanted it back so badly, but the moment he felt like his progress was threatened, he was willing to do anything to set things right. Ironically, resulting to some morally questionable behavior. It was all so crazy and ironic. But the fact that this man was willing to give up his hand to make sure he would be a better person makes Emma stare at him in astonishment. He made so many mistakes, of course, but his heart was in the right place. At his core he is a good person and she finds it hard to believe anything could undo that. The Dark One is full of nasty lies and tricks.

"You're right. You should have told me. I would have forgiven you, you know. But I don't understand how this led to Gold taking your heart."

"I think he would have stolen it either way, since he needed it for his wretched schemes, but... when you called to tell your mother about getting rid of your powers... I remembered the magic hat and what it did to the poor old man. I realized the crocodile was planning to do the same to you. I called you and said all of this in that, you know, uh...voicemail. But the bloody crocodile erased it. I found out where he sent you but when I got there, he was ready for me."

Emma gulps. This is when it happens.

"He... was going to make me watch as you used the hat on yourself. But you didn't. Because you're bloody brilliant and so is your magic, Swan."

She blushes despite everything.

"So then he...?" she trails off.

"Aye."

He puts his hand over his heart as if to check it's still there, wincing slightly as he remembers the pain and how it felt to have his body invaded by the man he hated most.

"But why did he let you go? I mean... why did he wait until tonight to..."

He gets what she's asking.

"Well, he needed to fill the bloody hat with magic first and he kept going on about the stars in the sky aligning with the constellations on the hat and whatnot. My heart was only one ingredient... because I'm the only living person who knew him before he was tied to that dagger. First, he needed me to do his dirty work. Like capturing the fairies in the hat. Aye, that was me. Or him. When he... had my heart... he was fully in control of me."

A shiver goes through his entire body. Emma stands up from the chair and comes to sit next to his side. Her hand rests on his hook.

"I couldn't fight it. I couldn't do anything he forbid me to do. I had to listen to every command. I wasn't in control of myself. He made me a bloody slave." His voice is thick with emotion, especially the last word lingers in the air.

"Killian, I..." she cups his cheek in her hand and gently turns him to face her. "I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry?" he asks incredulously. "For what?"

"I don't know, I should have done something. I should have... noticed."

"You did, though, didn't you?"

"But it was almost too late," she shakes her head. "When you... when you talked to me earlier today and it wasn't you, when you grabbed onto my hand and tried to warn me... I knew something was wrong. I knew, I... Every part of me was screaming to do something, to follow you, to find out what the hell is happening. But I didn't. I didn't, because I thought I could check on you later. I thought I could resolve the case at hand and then I could check on you..." it takes every one of her metaphorical walls to not break down as she says that and tries not to think about what almost happened. Her voice is raw and husky but she holds it together.

"I didn't die," he reminds her. "And I'm not going to any time soon."

She smiles and strokes his cheek.

"Can you forgive me?" he asks, looking at her with uncertain eyes.

She leans in and kisses him softly on the lips. She tells him that yes, she forgives him for what he did before Gold had his heart and that whatever he did after is not on him. What she doesn't tell him is that she can feel herself falling deeper in love, the pull of his gravity growing stronger than ever. She finds herself loving him even as he reveals his flaws. Not that she ever thought he was flawless. She knew what she was getting herself into from the start – which is more than she can say for any of her other past relationships, she thinks bitterly.

She has held his heart in her hands today. She saw how bright and red it was, she also saw the dark spots inside it. Still, she found it strangely beautiful just the way it was.

She thinks she might truly love him. Because his darkness doesn't scare her away. His goodness pulls her in. Anyone could clearly tell which color was dominant in his heart. She embraces him despite his mistakes, including his mistakes.

But she can't say it out loud, because it scares her just how intense and real that feeling is, how strongly her heart burns as he lets her read him like a book, uncovering pages he would rather rip out. She doesn't think she's ever felt this way about anyone, not even Neal. After all, Neal never let her in like this. It's confusing and scary and she almost wants to run away. So instead, she kisses him, hoping to leave no room for thought.

"I'm glad you're okay," she whispers when they come apart to take a breath.

"I'm glad you are. And that I'm free again," he admits and there is something in his voice that she can't quite decipher. Something is still bothering him. She pulls away to get a better look at him.

"What is it?" she asks.

He leans against the bed frame and takes a deep breath. She sits opposite him, watching him attentively.

"I was a slave," he says so quietly she's not sure she hears correctly.

She's a little confused. He's said that already but this time it sounds a little different.

"To Gold? You don't have to worry about him anymore," she comforts him.

"No, I mean..." he hesitates.

She leans in, frowning in concern.

"I mean when I was a child... It was so long ago, I know it shouldn't bother me anymore but..."

"Did you say when you were a child?" she interrupts him.

He doesn't look at her, only nods his head slightly.

"It’s been so long, I know. But while Neverland keeps you young even for centuries, it's not exactly a place where you can forget your early years. And now... the last few days have stirred up some unpleasant memories."

"I thought," she fumbles, "I thought you were in the royal navy. David said... in Neverland..."

"I was," he nods. "But not always. Liam was the one who made that possible for us."

He laughs bitterly, reaching almost reflexively to where he keeps his flask, but then his hand jerks back.

"If it had depended on me, we never would have made it. I owe him so much. He never gave up on me," he smiles, his eyes glistening.

There's fondness in that sentiment, there's pain too. After all these years, he still loves his brother and misses him just like he has missed his first love for so long. He's not one to let go easily. Emma understands that all too well.

"I never realized there was slavery in the Enchanted Forest," she whispers. "That's awful."

"Maybe not anymore in your parents' era. But two hundred years ago, yeah."

"Were you... born into it?" she asks, afraid she might be getting too bold, too personal, that he will shut her out.

He shakes his head. "No. No, I have my father to thank for that actually."

The scorn on his face when he speaks about his father could rival his disdain for Rumplestiltskin.

"He was a cowardly bastard. When Liam and I were little, he secured passage on a ship for the three of us, fabricating this fantastical tale about going to travel the world. Turned out he was lying through his teeth. One night I woke up and he was gone. He sold us for a boat to save his arse from soldiers waiting for him in port. I never even learned what crime he was running from. Didn't matter though, because the cost of his freedom was Liam's and mine to pay."

Emma stares at him, horrified, but trying not to look like she's pitying him. Somehow, she isn't surprised that he is no stranger to abandonment. Yet another thing they have in common, another thing that makes them understand each other so well.

They all share the same look in their eyes. The look you get when you've been left alone.

I just wanted to let you know that I, too, know what it feels like... to lose hope.

Perhaps the wounds that are made when we are young tend to linger.

Believe it or not, I was once a child.

The little moments start to come together like pieces of a puzzle and she realizes it was in front of her this entire time. She feels bad for dismissing him before. She didn't expect this.

"I never want to be someone's servant again," he confesses under his breath.

"That's horrible," she says.

"I'm sorry for... spilling all this on you," he apologizes nervously, afraid he might have revealed too much.

"No," she stops him. "It's okay. I mean, thank you for telling me. I know it's not easy to talk about things like that."

"Yeah," he smirks knowingly.

She scoots over to sit next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You can talk about it if you want," she assures him softly. "Or not. I'm not going anywhere."

She can almost feel a wall crumbling down between them, bringing them closer. She's not sure if the wall is hers or his. Probably both. But it's down now. They're stepping into a new territory, taking a leap of faith. There is a new kind of understanding that somehow makes it easier to breathe.

They talk for hours that night, well past midnight. They just sit together and talk. About serious things at first. Killian describes staring at the ocean the first few weeks after his father left, trying to convince himself it was a lie, looking for a sign of him on the ocean's surface or a glimpse of his face in the crowded harbors, hoping that he would come back for them, until one day he started hoping his father was dead. Emma recounts her first few foster homes, the way she always let herself hope that she could be loved there... until the concept of it started to seem unbelievable.

After a while, they leave the traumas behind as the conversation organically shifts to more pleasant topics. They even end up laughing at the end until there is no tension left in their bodies. Emma kicks her shoes off and leans her head against his shoulder, her hand rests on his chest over his beating heart. She doesn't know when she falls asleep but she wakes up in his embrace to a quiet, sunlit room, still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. As is he.

It’s a new bright day and they are both free. There is no Dark One in town and the past is put to rest, at least for now. She rests her head on his chest and listens to his steady heartbeat.

#ouat fanfic #ouat 4x11 #captain swan fanfic #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #CS one shot #once upon a time season 4 #i’ve always loved the scene where she returns his heart with a burning passion #and i’ve always wished there was more✨#guess i have to do it myself #one shot #missing scene fic #nya writes

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tutuandscoot · 1 year

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📍Worlds 2017 Post FD

I don’t think I’ve ever seen this moment.. discussed, and as I was watching this comp to make another post recently I got stuck on this moment I’d seen several times, but it hit me in the feels more significantly this time round.

First let me set the scene (which you can go watch for yourselves on the full video here starts at 3:30:40).

Once the competition has finished, VM make their way from backstage under the stands to the k+c/ marshalling area for the medal ceremony. But before that they are to give an interview. A camera person has followed them out to this area and there are a few different people wanting their attention. First, someone from the US fed/team who shakes their hands (says congrats) then one of the competition officials asks them something, then the lady who congratulations them and tells them she will do their interview. They can’t go straight to the k+c yet however because the team who competed last (right after VM), HD are still there (and after a disappointing skate are still being consoled by their coaches). So VM patiently wait off to the side. Then it’s here when this gif starts.

TS only had Marie with them in the K+C, however both Marie and Patch watched their skate and knew they had won- despite not being the last team to skate, they had a large enough lead after the short to essentially render them unbeatable (even with his misstep). When they left the K+C after their skate, they unlikely watched the final team or knew the final result as it pertained to HD, so as they came out for their interview they were probably not fully aware of what was happening in the K+C- obviously they saw they were sad but maybe didn’t know their final placement. Both Patch (and that other coach I don’t like) were with HD in the K+C, so Patch comes from there over to VM.

Now, let’s not kid ourselves, we all would like to admit that there is nothing ‘wrong’ with two men embracing like this- and we’d be right- there absolutely is not. But inevitably just bc of.. society (more so social norms of the past- it’s hopefully changing now) this is not the most common thing to see, and therefore, at least for me and I would assume many others, illicits more of an emotional reaction just bc we don’t see it all the time. It shouldn’t be weird- it’s not weird, but it’s still not something you see everyday.

So with that out of the way… what a truly beautiful moment this is.

I’m not gonna go all on again about Scott and what he was dealing with personally that season (iykyk if not hmu and I’ll tell you/look at some previous posts), he’s said even by earlier 4CC that season he was emotionally wiped, so by now, with the relief of the season finally being done, they had won, there was no needing to hold it all together for the sake of competition anymore. You could tell in the K+C after their skate how drained he was, at least to me it seemed it wasn’t just exhausted from the skate or the misstep, it was a culmination of things.

We’ve looked at previous posts the wonderful way T took care of him in those moments in her own quiet way and just being herself- being there with him was everything he needed (being with her (holding her hand/looking in her eyes) was the only time he felt ok 🥺).

But of course they were not alone in this comeback- and they made sure everyone knew that. The support they had from their team was as important as the support they gave each other, and it’s interesting the different ways that support is displayed- the similar yet different ways between T&S and either of them with a coach.

As I said-in the k+c, he was so obviously drained of energy, emotion, I felt so bad for him but also so proud of him and them for achieving what they did that year, and bad that it wasn’t as excellent as they wanted that final skate to be. Here waiting off to the side, it may be the lighting on his face but he almost looks like he’s about to cry, just so depleted of energy. It may have been that he saw Patch walking over and that was the look of near tears.. The way P seemingly doesn’t even say ‘congrats’ to him/ them. Obviously all skaters/athletes in general have special relationships which their coaches so it’s not like this is whole exchange is unique, but just the way there is communication without words- same thing S has with T but in a different way that is unique to them. The way S almost falls into P, like he just needs someone to hold him up bc he’s so exhausted. P goes to him like ‘here, let me hold you’- that’s what S needed to ‘hear’ in that moment rather than ‘congrats’. Also to see two men embrace like that (& esp when you know the relationship in this case is very special). It’s not a hug of ‘congratulations’ because he doesn’t really need to congratulate them, they don’t need that from their coaches, or more they don’t need it verbalised in that way. They have a deeper connection with them and for P+S, P knows what S needs in that moment is to just be cared for as a human.

I’m so freakin attracted to S for this reason- that he’s so open with his emotions and accepting and giving of affection. Describing him/them often as ‘soft’ isn’t a joke- it’s what they are and it’s an umbrella term to describe their affection and sensitivity.

Then if all that wasn’t beautiful enough, the way T just gently steps back a little to give them space. She is not being excluded, P is of course going to hug her as well, she does not find this awkward. She knows S needs a hug from P and so she gives them that space. I’m really not explaining it very well but I know what it says when I watch it and I’m just hoping y’all reading are getting what I’m trying to put into words.

This all goes back to TS’s just unbelievable level of knowing of one another and now having coaches who they trust enough and want them to be on some sort of level of knowing with them. The way she can be part of that hug without being part of that hug. How they can support each other with out being the one hugged/doing the hugging. The way they are so gentle with their emotions towards each other and create a safe space for each other to feel what they need to feel.

#I don’t think I actually said what I wanted to say but hopefully y’all get my drift #I won’t subject you to any more babbling on this #just watch the gif and feel the softness and emotion #worlds17 #soft bbys

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linksthoughtbrambles · 2 years

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Ok for the 200 followers, congrats again by the way!! 😄 You’re amazing.

In a very very hot day, Zelda goes for a swim in a nearby pond, while Link stand guard (reasonably close) after a while Link takes off his shirt (very hot day) to which Zelda screams and runs away.

Comedy/romance will be great.

Thank you in advance.

P.S. English is not my first language, so sorry if there is any misspelling.

Very slightly nsfw.

Erroneous Resistance

In the intense heat of northwestern Faron, Zelda’s riding suit stuck so tight, the neck sat so high, and the air hung so stuffy it was all she could do not to snap at Link every few sentences (truthfully an exaggeration, since she hadn’t said a word other than some matter-of-fact statements regarding flora and fauna they’d encountered as she made notes in her compendium—why not make use of the trip to the spring?); she couldn’t resist when they came upon a well-shaded pond fed by a tiny waterfall, commanding her appointed knight to stand guard while she took a brief dip to refresh.

Zelda debated how much of her sweat-and-humidity-soaked clothing to strip off, and decided on all of it (her underthings were soaked, and she loathed the idea of wearing them beneath clothing in such a state—she’d packed changes)—she may not be comfortable around her knight, but she did trust him—so she advised Link not to look her way while she sank into the (quite warm) water in attempt to refresh her body and spirit; she tried to sink into relaxation, but the temperature of the water meant it provided little relief unless she exposed her wet skin to the air—she did so fully after a good long while resisting, turning to assure Link could not see her and drew in a scandalized gasp, for he had just pulled his own sticky shirt over his head, revealing a headily-toned torso that rendered Zelda incapable of further motion (though she apparently could still salivate).

She knew immediately how serious her error was, for her gasp alerted him to danger—he snatched his sword from its sheath where he’d leaned it and spun to fend off whatever had frightened her and he froze, every single muscle except his eyes, which lingered first on her chest, then moved downward as if dragged by some force from the underworld much lower, stopping where- where- where; Zelda shrieked and ran into the cover of the ample ferns, half-hidden behind a tree trunk while her knight stammered at least a dozen starts to an apology with eyes squeezed shut, finally settling on, “Princess you’re beautiful, you’ve nothing to be ashamed of and I'm so so so so SO so so sorry, please what can I do do you need a towel I have one somewhere well sort of not really a towel more of a large cloth but if you want it it's yours I'm so sorry...” which far from negating her embarrassment, warmed her in an entirely unfamiliar way—she resisted the sudden desire to shout, ‘Turnabout is fair play, knight,’ for it would be morally reprehensible for her to insist her handsome, adorable, knight disrobe as punishment, and instead emerged to rummage for her dry clothing, resisting whatever force kept attempting to lure her eyes back to Link’s exemplary torso.

------

[Thanks for the ask, wolflinkpaws! Hard to resist any excuse for Link to ramble in panic 😆].

#200 followers celebration #200 followers #3 sentence fics #botw #zelda #zelink #loz #breath of the wild #legend of zelda #fanfic #comedy #romcom #pre-calamity #pre calamity #silly #is naked bathing an official trope #i bet it is #the title comes from the fact that neither of them should have resisted any of this #just go for it you dorks

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rosaren2498 · 1 year

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EDIT: THIS TURNED OUT SO MUCH LONGER THAN I INTENDED; I'M SO SORRY

I think... it's time. Ever since I saw the show, questions have plagued me. And I guess I just need to get them out. This is going to be an absolute mess but it's really just me trying to get my thoughts out. It mostly covers Hob, Morpheus, and The Corinthian because I have the most questions regarding them. I'd also like to preface this with the fact that I've only seen the show.

So, let's start with Hob and Immortality. How the actual fuck does his immortality work??? Hob says they tried drowning him as a witch and it makes me wonder. Does he just... drown, die, wake up, repeat? Or is he just stuck underwater, water in his lungs but no relief to be found unless he passes out? Can he pass out from lack of oxygen? Does he even need oxygen anymore? He still needs to eat, and feels hunger still, so it's likely he still needs to breathe, but that implies that basically, he spent who knows how long just drowning over and over like Stefan did in The Vampire Diaries, which is horrifying to think about. Fanon claims he can technically die, but that his soul doesn't leave his body seeing as Death won't take him, that it's more like falling unconscious and just waking up when his body is healed enough.

In the same vein, he cannot die, but Dream tells him he can be hurt. So... does he heal, then? If he gets a cut on the palm of his hand, does he have regenerative capabilities? And if yes, what is the extent of them? He can't actually die so could he, theoretically, survive without a head? Is he like Deadpool? Deadpool's regenerative capabilities are so advanced that he was once disintegrated and he healed from it. He's been ripped in half, and had his head removed and all that happens is he passes out for a bit and then wakes up, fully capable of moving and reattaching limbs (like his entire waist and legs in the video game, even reattatches them incorrectly aka backwards) Can Hob do that????? What is the fucking limit to his immortality? Is there a technical limit? Or is he, functionally, Deadpool? I really need to know because we see what the AoP (Amulet of Protection) can do so... Hob can't die so what would happen if the AoP was used on him????? Would he be rendered a smear of blood and muscles and other stuff, only to slowly be pieced back together? Would his entire body just... reform, leaving a mess behind???

In the same vein, but now moving to Morpheus. Fanon claims that he can only be hurt if it's what he wants (ie love bites, hickeys, bruises left on hips or thighs etc), and while I have no idea if that's true in Canon, because the show doesn't fucking talk about it (no show or movie ever goes into details about stuff like that and it never fails to drive me up a wall), we'll take it anyways because I have questions about that. And we'll use the scene Cori stabs him as a basis, though removing Rose from the equation, leaving Morpheus at full power.

If he cannot be hurt unless he wants it, then what would've happened when Cori tried to stab him? I've got 3 different ideas about it.

1. Cori tries to stab him and his skin is hard like a twilight vampire, so the knife either bends, or shatters (which admittedly would be kind of funny)

2. Cori tries to stab him and his skin opens, but there is no blood, nor any pain, and the 'wound' reseals almost immediately

Or the one I think is most likely:

3. Cori tries to stab him but the skin refuses to bruise or break. Like poking someone, the skin pushes in, it indents briefly, but it doesn't break, doesn't split open, doesn't even fucking bruise (because he won't bruise unless it's what he wants). I just imagine Cori trying to stab or cut him and its like using a plastic blade lol

On a slightly different topic, to take a break from things driving me crazy and turning to something I'm merely idly curious about... Morpheus gets big in episode 5. He holds John in his fucking palm and he's about the height of a quarter maybe a half dollar, and Morpheus is huge (not as big as Arishem in Eternals, but still!) Is that as big as he can get? Is there a limit to his ability to change size in The Dreaming? Obviously in the Waking World, there are limits to his capabilities, especially because he has to pass as human, but in The Dreaming? The imagination is the limit so, theoretically, could he get as big as Arishem?

Onto my questions regarding Dreams and Nightmares. Seeing as The Corinthian is the one we get to see the most, I will be using him in my examples.

First and foremost, he screams when the AoP destroys him. Is that actual pain he's feeling, or is it just a mental thing? He thinks it should hurt and so it feels like it does, but really it doesn't, kind of thing? Second... okay so the AoP is used on Cori. We get to, sorta, see his insides as he gets destroyed, and then again as he reforms in The Dreaming. What is he made of and what exactly is his anatomy??? Right before the flesh (???) reforms, there is what appears to be some kind of metallic structure vaguely reminiscent of bone that reforms, most clearly seen as his outstretched hand reforms, and something else underneath it, like he's made of 3 layers. It's really intriguing. Does he have organs beyond his mouths? Also, Fanon likes to claim his ocular mouths have tiny tongues (which is cute af) and I need to know if that's Canon immediately.

Furthermore, does he breathe?? Morpheus gets trapped in a sphere (I feel like fishbowl is too rude, like it's taking how fucking serious and traumatic that was for him and just... 'ooh funny' so I refuse to call it that) made of glass and iron for over a century and according to Google, the average amount of time for air to run out in a sealed area is 12 days. Less than 2 weeks. He spent more than a century just... not breathing because after 12 days THERE WAS NO AIR.

Which implies that he either A, doesn't need to breathe at all and does so out of convenience (you need air to speak, Burgess you fucking dumbass) and maybe habit or B, because he cannot die, he feels the need to breathe but it just... won't kill him. Which means he spent over a century with all the terrible symptoms that a lack of air provides, including a constant burning in his lungs and his head feeling like it was going to explode...

But all that to say, does that mean Cori doesn't need to breathe? Does he even have lungs??? WHAT IS HIS ANATOMY??? HE CLEARLY HAS A DICK SINCE HE USES IT THROUGHOUT THE SHOW! What else has he got??? I just... I want concept art or something similar that shows his insides and what he's made of, as creepy as that probably sounds. I need to know how human he is on the inside. My morbid curiosity will not be satisfied without these answers man. Also, random side note: why tf is his hair platinum blonde when he enters Burgess' manor?? When Morpheus confronted him before, it wasn't platinum, and at no other point is it platinum blonde. Why just THAT scene? It always vaguely irritates me because it's weird.

Also... what, exactly, is The Darkness? Because if it's what I think it is, that is the cruelest thing Morpheus could fucking do. It sounds like it's a fucking void where your consciousness sits, no body, just you and your thoughts, alone, no ability to see, or speak, or breathe, or touch, or fucking feel anything and... God I'm about to go into a fucking panic attack just THINKING about it, wtf Morpheus! Just pitch black NOTHINGNESS, more of an absence of everything than anything else, the goddamn VOID.

Back to Hob though, is he the kind of guy who will eagerly tell you about all the ways people have tried to kill him, completely casually, maybe even laughing at some of them no matter how bad they are, or does some of his almost-deaths haunt him? Does he have an uncontrollable fear of bodies of water because they tried to drown him??? Does he have PTSD and recurring nightmares from all the War he's seen, or does his immortality render his brain incapable of 'breaking' under pressure? Orrrrr has his brain 'broken' multiple times from all of it, but because he's immortal, he always comes back from it?

I ALMOST FORGOT!

Morpheus tells Rose that he 'failed in his duty, an entire universe was lost' uh... wtf does that mean? This is at least the 2nd Universe the Endless have been in and I want to know if they just... went to another one once their previous one died (which, Death says something about shutting the door behind her when she leaves so maybe???) or if they pulled a Futurama and just waited for another universe to form around them. You know, that episode of Futurama where Fry finally gets a date with Leela, but the Professor built a time machine THAT ONLY MOVES FORWARD IN TIME and Fry doesn't have much of a choice and gets dragged along and they fuck up and end up going through 3 different universes before they finally stop moving forward in time and Fry just barely makes his date. Is it like that???

Also, Morpheus says he holds 'the entire collective unconscious'... is that just Earth, or the entire Universe? He doesn't say human unconscious, partly because we know most animals on earth can dream and so he holds their collective unconscious as well, but is it the ENTIRE UNIVERSE? Because the human population on Earth alone is 7.837 billion. That isn't including ANY of the animals that can dream. It's no wonder he has such strict and rigid rules! That's a LOT OF PEOPLE AND THAT'S JUST HUMANS! Even if you say there are only 5 total planets in the INFINITE universe with beings capable of dreaming, one is ours, and the other 4 only have half our population, that is still 23.511 billion beings (including our 7.837 billion) that he holds the collective unconscious and STILL doesn't include our animals or any potential animals on the other planets. That's just 5 planets. The universe is fucking INFINITE

#the sandman netflix #hob gadling #morpheus #dream of the endless #deadpools regenerative capabilities #the corinthian #mentions of ptsd #kind of graphic?#morbid curiosity #burning curiosity

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tallbluelady · 1 year

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6. What was their "flirting stage" like?

Oh no. I went VERY in depth on this, woops.

Their "flirting" stage is like, Post-Stormblood all the way through base Shadowbringers. Anything before then is like, timidly approaching and then jumping back before the other responds. It's not until the first Heavensturn after Ala Mhigo is liberated that they finally feel comfortable with the concept of each other to even TRY anything. And even then, they're almost playing chicken with each other, trying to get the other to make the first move because they're too afraid to approach them themselves. Urianger had purchased a gift for Rowan - a gold and glass rowan branch from the Goldsmith's guild - and he was going to give it to her with a letter to open that conversation. Alas, G'raha called again and nabbed him and Y'shtola to the First.

AND THEN EVERYTHING GETS MORE COMPLICATED ON HIS END. G'raha gives this grand scheme to Urianger, trusting him to do whatever it takes to see the plan to fruition. And now Urianger has to lie to Rowan to keep the plan working, save the Star, and to get them all home. He knows that the whole thing is going to be mentally and physically hard on her, so... he figures that he could offer relief by flirting and being romantic. He then fully expects her to dump him once they all return to the Source for his deceit. So with that in mind, he spends three years with the fae and gets some gender stuff figured out, the plan eating at him as he creates White Auracite to mayhap render the whole thing obsolete. It doesn't but it does help in the end.

Rowan, back on the Source, is distraught at the loss of her comrades. She does stumble upon the branch and letter, and the whole thing swirls around her mind for the weeks they try to get her to the First. She is as shaky as a newborn deer at the idea of it. She couldn't quite get herself to open up to Aymeric and that has been haunting her for a while. She's afraid of losing Urianger entirely because he's been such a steady presence in her life and he's handsome and kind and... It's scary.

So when Urianger Careless Whispers his way down the stairs and asks what Rowan thinks of his appearance she's relieved. He hasn't had his feelings change in three years! He seems more confident in himself too, which just adds more to her attraction to him. He's steady and attentive and funny and it helps Rowan relax. She's still shaky as hell at the whole relationship, because she can feel some hesitation on his side for whatever reason. But she's going to let the flirtation happen for a while because it's genuinely nice to hear that you're pretty etc.

Then Mt. Gulg happens and... Urianger is more guilt than man at that point. He has his grovel point and he is ready to never have any romantic interaction with Rowan again. But then she forgives him! Because A) G'raha asked him to lie and B) she loves him! (Not that she's ready to say so!) So they have this weird give and take of they both know they like each other, but Urianger made it weird. He actually works with Moren and Grenolt to create weapons to help vent some of the Light within her. And it's VERY MUCH appreciated.

I haven't quite ironed out every detail when they're in Amaurot, but Rowan REALLY wants to kiss him right after they defeat Hades. The problem arises when G'raha has to be all sad boy about everything and then they have to make it to the surface and then go to the Crystarium and celebrate and then sleep. Only Rowan can't sleep, and Urianger is Urianger and usually doesn't sleep anyways. They talk and cry over tea and FINALLY KISS OMG. And also give each other an "I love you" and an "I love thee". Then they cuddle for the night and that is the end of their "flirting stage".

So uh... thanks for the excuse to ramble about this XD.

#ask meme #aether and anatomy #rowan argentas #urianger #urianger x wol #um.#yeah #this is like #why i am writing fic #i have to be weird about it and write out the entirety of the game first tho #so it's gonna be a while before we see all of this

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x-heartofthecards-x · 2 years

Text

@numberoneduelist

Seto’s worries begin to ease as the other man’s face begins to change color. They’re eradicated when the waterfall of content begins to spew forth. It takes a second to process, but he gets the gist quickly enough. Yugi likes him, too. The relief is like a cascade. His worries had been unfounded. Normally, that would be annoying.

Right now, he feels pretty alright about it. A small smile worms its way onto his face.

Warmth spreads from his chest to his extremities, lava - or honey, if you like the sweeter approach - working to relax his limbs. He hadn’t realized exactly how tense he’d gotten there. He almost sinks into the back of the couch. He’s not about to admit to the man that he’s also been stressed about this whole thing.

That much is probably already obvious.

Okay, good. Tomorrow at eight, he’ll show up at Yugi’s door and they’ll have a... date. Has he ever actually had one of those before? He can’t seem to recall one. At least - none that were ever intentional. He’s done the dinner, the activities, et cetera. But they’ve all been for other purposes. This brings about a small amount of apprehension, but it isn’t enough to sour his newly-lifted mood.

They’ll do this and it will go fine, or it will go poorly. Either way, it’s going to happen - they’ll just have to play it by ear as things come up. He’s usually pretty decent at that.

He gives his own little nod in response and his fingers begin flitting across the keyboard again, eyes torn from Yugi. Part of him wants to end the meeting right now - how does one refocus after a pause like that? But they really should finish up before heading their separate ways. It’ll only be a little longer anyway. He does his best to compartmentalize.

“Yeah. This quick version is still going to have some edges, but when we assign someone to the task of rendering, they’ll have more time to smooth it out. Anything else?”

Yugi felt a similar sense of relief wash over him, particularly as Seto’s body language began to shift so subtly beside him. It was clear that this was something that had being weighing on the CEO, which was actually incredibly flattering. It made his chest feel incredibly warm.

The smaller man pulled his legs up on the couch to sit cross-legged as he watched Seto make those final tweaks to their game for the day. Really, it was looking wonderful. Better than he could have ever imagined that it ever would. Certainly better than he could have ever made it on his own.

And yet, it only actually occupied a small bit of his mind at that moment.

He was actually far more concerned several what ifs that circled around in his head as they sat side by side. Would Seto actually like having a date with him or would he be incredibly disappointed? He had never actually had any kind of legitimate date before. Even the one almost date with Anzu had been Pharaoh piloting. Did this mean that they were going to end up kissing? Would he be okay at kissing?

There was a lot to stress over.

He focused back up at the man as he was addressed directly and shook his head as he replied with a chuckle, "No, I don't think so. It looks really good so far. I am sure that it will be super amazing when it is fully rendered. But I can't really think of any other basics that need to be handled right at this second. Unless you've thought of a name."

#numberoneduelist #seto kaiba #closed roleplay #roleplay tags:#numberoneduelist3

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bokettochild · 3 years

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Request: Fairy Hyrule, Minish Four and Bunny Legend cuddlefic? Mostly because I love the idea of hugging a bunny ten times your size. THINK OF THE (literal) FLUFF AND SOFTNESS

So... I got a bit caught up in the WHY of them all being Small, and... this happened.

It all got deleted halfway through and I had to rewrite it from memory, but it turned out okay (although I don't like the flow as much this time through), bt it's... a bit long. This baby was ten pages, and it took forever to get to the cuddling bit- sorry about that.

Anyways, Anon, here is your (long overdue) Tiny fic (it ain't tiny).

The others are laughing and it’s making him mad. Usually, he’s just smack them over the head (a much good as it would do, curse his weak arms) but usually he can reach that high.

Right now, he can’t.

Because right now, he’s a freaking rabbit

He’s a little pink rabbit sitting in the middle of a circle of heroes who are all laughing at him, and more than anything he wants to hop his freaking furry tail over to Warrior’s horrid choice of footwear and bite the shit out of the captain’s ankles; he deserves it (the rancher does to).

“How did this happen?” Hyrule wheezes out, and even though he wants to be, Legend finds that he can’t be mad at the healer, not when the kid’s face is flushed with laughter, his smile bright and carefree, golden gaze watery under the force of his bell-like laughter as it pricks at Legend’s sensitive ears.

“I don’t know!” Twilight wheezes from where he’s leaning against Time, hearty chuckles exploring from him unabashedly as he looks down at Legend. “We were scouting around the camp and when I turned around,” He gestures weakly to the veteran, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Rabbit!”

Legend scowls. He doesn’t even know what happened. One minute he was walking and the next he was tumbling head over paws on the pathway. He’d refused to let Twilight carry him back to camp (if only to try and maintain whatever dignity he had left) and had waited hopefully for Twilight to retrieve the Master Sword for him, only for Warriors to stumble upon him with the darkest expression he’s ever seen on the captain’s face.

Warriors’ expression at seeing a rabbit might very well haunt Legend’s dreams for ages to come, and had prompted a squeak of fear from him that had sent Sky darting up from his seat. “Legend!” The Chosen Hero had shouted, concern in his sky-blue eyes as he had skidded to his knees at Legend’s side, cautious hands scooping him up and inspecting him for injuries in the brief moment where he was too shocked to protest. Of course, he wouldn’t stand it for long, and after pawing at Sky’s fingers with angry huffs and squeaks that he was going to hope the others would forget about, he had been released back onto the ground.

Which landed them where they were now, surrounded by cackling heroes as they stared down at the fluffy pink ball of fur that was their salty veteran.

“Wow vet, I’d’ve never guessed, a rabbit?” Warriors wheezes, eyes full of mirth. “No wonder we don’t get along!”

He rolls his eyes and growls as best as he can as a rabbit (not like he can growl anyway, but he tries none-the-less). “Just hand over the Master Sword so we can get this shit over with.” He squeaks, ignoring how his growls sound more like honks and chitters than anything threatening.

Sky looks at him oddly, as do several of the others, none of them (save Twi and Sky) apparently expecting him to be able to speak in this form, but the Chosen Hero obliges regardless, reaching back for the Master Sword and carefully settling it within Legend’s reach.

The cool cross-guard is comfortable under his paws, even if it is too big, and he sighs in relief as the power of the blade flows over him. In a moment, his form will disappear into the light and reappear, whole and Hylian, and fully capable of kicking some rancher ass.

Just a moment....

A second more...

He blinks his eyes open, violet flitting across the blade in mounting concern as he takes in the fluffy pink paws that are where his hands should be. Why isn’t it working? Why is he still a helpless rabbit?

“That’s weird.” Twilight and Sky both murmur, exchanging a worried glance as the Skyloftian retrieves the blade. He lunges after it though, not giving Sky a chance to inspect the blade and instead startling him with the weight of a rabbit in his lap as pink paws reach up to grasp the sword hilt again.

“Fi, explain.”

The sword spirit’s voice rings clear and cool in his head as Sky lowers the blade further, better into his reach. He hardly processes the motion, so focused on the words, which is perhaps why he doesn't question the stabilizing hand that lowers onto his back.

“Young Master,” Fi chimes softly in his mind. “The forces which have transformed you are not dark in nature. There is a 76% chance that they are in fact, of nature themselves. As such, my blade is unable to undo the curse. You will likely have to wait until this curse runs its course.”

“How long.” He grates out, nose shivering in irritation as his ears flick back, brushing gently against the Skyloftian's fingers and making Sky gasp softly.

“Processing....There is a 49% percent chance that this curse will fade and return you to your Hylian form in approximately three days' time, and there is a 27% percent chance that it will take a week for said change to occur. Additionally, there is a 15% percent chance that the curse will not fade, and a 9% chance that this curse will make you explode.”

A strangled screech escapes him and he doesn’t even realize his paws have released the sacred blade until they are grasping at his ears, tugging with all of the pent-up emotion inside of his body as he processes the words. Never mind the exploding bit, he might not turn back? There’s only a fifty-fifty chance that he’ll turn back in the next few days?

Sky’s long fingers drag through his fur gently, rubbing soothing circles over his back. “What did she say?”

“Three days!” He tugs his ears again. “Three days of being utterly useless and helpless, and it’s not even certain that I’ll turn back! I could be stuck like this forever! I could explode!”

“Exploding doesn’t seem likely-” Twilight attempts to calm him, but it only makes him tug his ears harder.

“Fi said it might happen!” He shouts back, high pitched and squeaky, and hating every second of it. He buries his face in the fabric beneath him, his rabbit heart pounding with panic and cold dread washing over him as the words continue to spew from his mouth. “And if Fi said it could happen than it might! And we were about to go into battle too! What’ll happen if someone gets hurt? I can’t help anyone and there's absolutely nothing that stupid bunny could do and-”

Someone’s scratching his ears.

Long fingers rubbing just right between them and Legend is helpless to tell them to stop because he’s too busy melting into a puddle in Sky’s lap at the sensation. All thoughts flee as he lets Sky’s hands drive away all worries. Should he be worried that he’s rendered speechless and vulnerable by something so simple? Probably, but Sky seems to know just how to place his hands and Legend can only hum in appreciation at the feeling, a squeaky purr escaping him as he leans into the sensation as Sky hums something soft and soothing under his breath. The vibrations carry down his fingers and tingle down Legend’s spine, calming him further.

“Cute.” Twilight's voice breaks him from his thoughts, and he’s pulling back from Sky’s hands and glaring up at the rancher with all the fury he can fit in his now tiny body.

“He’s not wrong, Kit.” Time chuckles soft and low, and Legend whips his head around to stare at the man.

“Oh no, you are not giving me a nickname!”

“Yeah Time,” Sky’s voice is low and mirthful as he speaks, hand once more settling on Legend’s back as he lifts an arm to block the vet from launching himself at their leader. “He’s my descendant, if anyone should be giving him a nickname it’s me.”

“How about Nibbles?” The sailor grins, leering into Legend’s space with enough mischief in his gaze to kill a Lynel. “I mean, the vet is always chewing us out.”

He forgets for a moment that his growls sound more like chirps in this form, baring his teeth at the sailor as he attempts to frighten him off. It doesn’t work, rabbits aren’t made to scare off bigger animals “So help me sailor I-”

Large hands scoop him off the ground and suddenly he’s being cradled in Sky’s arms. Like a baby. The indignity! “Calm down, Bun, he’s just kidding.” Sky’s crystal eyes glimmer with genuine concern as he looks down at Legend. “And we’ll find a way to change you back, I promise. The goddesses wouldn’t have let you change like this if it was for the worse. You’ll see,” Sky bops his nose with a smile entirely too pure. “It’ll be fine.”

Legend would like to argue that point, the goddesses have never shown any particular interest in what’s best for him before, and most of them seem to find humor in ruining his life time and again (except the Golden Trio, they’re alright he guesses, especially Din), but Sky looks so certain and Legend’s honestly too tired to start a big fight about Hylia again. (Heaven knows the last time he made Sky mad he nearly shat himself at how terrifyingly defensive Sky could get about those he loved). It doesn’t matter anyway, he supposes, as Sky’s already standing and making is way back to their main camp, gait just smooth enough not to jostle his reluctant passenger as Legend slumps in place.

He might as well let this happen, at least until he can figure out how to fix it.

It’s official.

Legend hates being a bunny.

They’ve settled down for dinner and as if to mock him and all that he loves, Wild has been struck with the inspiration to make his absolutely heavenly radish stew. The one that Legend would literally sell some of his rings for because it is that good.

And he can’t eat it.

He tried, and that attempt resulted in both himself and Sky covered in broth, the thick liquid clinging to his fur now as he sits on the ground with some raw fruits and vegetables instead. He doesn’t know that he’ll ever be able to eat it again without being forced to remember nearly drowning in the stuff.

He feels like a baby and he hates it.

He’s soaked himself and his ancestor and food and Warriors still isn’t done tittering about it.

He really hates being a bunny.

The others have nearly stepped on him numerous times, simply because they aren’t used to having to watch underfoot, so every time someone walks over to Wild to get seconds (why did the Champion sit next to him and Sky in the first place?) he has to back-peddle onto his haunches to avoid being crushed under heavy boots and even heavier feet.

Add to that that Wild and Wind both subconsciously reach out to pet his bedraggled fur every few minutes and he’s absolutely fed up with this shit!

At least the Champion was willing to lend him something to dry his fur off with, and even if he hates it, the spare brush Warriors has on hand does a decent job of detangling his fluffy hide. If he melts a little in Twilight’s lap as the rancher goes over him with the brush than no one says anything (although both Sky and Time have infuriating matching smiles on their faces).

But then it’s bedtime and Time is sorting through his things to try and make sure that no one person will have to carry all his stuff, and he’s reminded once again how utterly useless he is in this form. It only makes things worse that he knows that the others will be burdened with his bags, and considering his top speed at the moment can only be held for short sprints, he’s pretty sure the Old Man is going to have someone carry him too.

The very idea makes him puff out his fur in irritation.

At the very least though, he doesn’t have to worry much about how he’s going to handle the cold nights, Sky’s already taken his beloved sailcloth and bundled it into a little nest, and the minute Twilight is done with his fur the Chosen Hero is scooping him up and laying him in it (absently, he wonders if Sky might have a stronger paternal instinct than Time and if his own small form is triggering that). The fabric is warm though, and it’s nice. If Sky curls up around him in the middle of the night though, well, he supposes there’s not really much he can do about that.

Sky does curl around him and he’s trapped.

The Skyloftian may look soft and cuddly, but he’s got an iron grip when he’s asleep, and it’s only by the pure squishability of his current form that he’s able to escape (Sky will be disappointed when he wakes up, he knows, but even so, Legend doesn’t intend on staying a rabbit, not for a whole week, especially when there’s monsters out there.

Perhaps the thought of said monsters should dissuade him, but it doesn’t. He knows now what triggered this change, and he’s determined to hunt it down and trick it into changing him back, he just needs to escape his babysitters for a hot tic in order to do so.

It’s a lucky thing that Four and Warriors are both so drowsy that the feather light step of a rabbit doesn’t catch their attention as the two sit on watch, and Legend’s able to creep over to his bag (positioned with Twilight’s things) and dig through it until he finds what he needs.

You can’t go making deals with the fae unless you have something of value, or those tricksters will rob you blind and steal your first born. Not that Legend ever intends on having kids, but on the off chance that he ever did he’d rather they didn’t have a shitty life because he made an error in dealing with a forest sprite.

Come to think of it, how powerful are the forest people of this time?

Warriors looks seconds away from walking up to Sky’s sleeping form and throwing Legend as far as he can into the distance, and it’s making Four nervous.

Rationally, they know that Warriors wouldn’t consciously do such a thing, but they also know how much Warriors hates rabbits in general, and that the captain’s initial instinct at seeing them is to toss them away from himself as far as possible (never mind how rare a real rabbit is, Warriors’ time is apparently full of them and Warriors hates them). They’ve heard the story, how the captain was made to hunt rabbits down across his world and return them to their homes, the fact that he did so by throwing them is a bit concerning considering the delicate bone structure of the animals, but it’s not Wars’ fault that he doesn’t know that.

All the same, Four would feel a bit more secure if they knew that Wars wouldn’t be doing such a thing. (Rationally, they know he won’t, but rationality is only so much of the equation).

“I’m gonna check on the vet.” They murmur softly to their companion. Somethings not right and they hope it’s just Warriors’ previous retellings of his own rabbit-escapades eating at them and not something else. “Sky’s got a grip like a vice when he sleeps and I don’t want him getting crushed.”

Never mind that being small sucks when it’s this cold out. Four desperately hopes that it won’t rain tonight (although the air tastes right for it).

“Rabbits are tough little things,” The captain chuckles. “I’m sure he’s okay.”

Vio wrenches control from the others, gaze flat as he stares out at Wars. “You do know most rabbits can’t survive being thrown, right? They’re not like cats, if they land wrong their done for.”

The captain pales slightly but doesn’t say anything, and they take that as their cue to stand and make their way over to where Sky and the vet had bedded down for the night. Sure enough, Sky is curled up around the sailcloth nest he made for Legend like a child curled around their favorite stuffed animal (or Red with any of the rest of them), but at the very least it doesn’t look as if Legend would have been smashed, just caged. They wince, the vet doesn’t sleep well on a good night, but waking up to being trapped? That is...not good. There’s a reason they never force him to join everyone else when Red takes over and calls for a cuddle pile; everyone knows that the most Legend will stand is letting Hyrule hold his hand while he sleeps, and even then, the vet will still pull away when he finally does fall asleep.

Sky shifts (he’s a heavy sleeper, but all the same he moves a lot), arms wrapping tighter around the bundle in his arms. Tight enough that the sailcloth gives way. Sky’s face screws up in his sleep, wrapping even tighter around the bundle as if seeking out some form of resistance.

Four panics. Bunnies are delicate creatures and Sky is strong, did he just crush Legend?

Only, looking closer, Vio points out that there isn’t even a hint of pink amidst the fabric, and when Four dares reach out to test the bundle himself, they find that there is nothing within its folds.

“Four?” Warriors’ voice is tinged with concern as Four stand back up from his crouch, brows pinched together as he scans over the camp. “Is something wrong?”

“Legend’s missing.”

The captain’s brows shoot up, but thankfully he doesn’t bother with questioning them, instead hoisting himself to his feet and making his way around the camp, an ever-growing frown marring his features as he looks around. “Did he choose to sleep with Hyrule instead?” It’s a soft murmur, likely only spoken aloud because Wars is too tired to stop it before it reaches his mouth, but Four’s eyes flick over to where the Traveler sleeps regardless.

“I don’t think so.”

“Look,” Warriors groans softly, not loud enough to wake the others, stopping at Twilight’s bedroll and motioning to the bags stacked near the rancher's pillow. “His bag is open.”

“You don’t think he climbed inside of it, do you? We’d never find him!”

The captain gives him a look, blinking once before shaking his head. “No! But he was clearly trying to get at something.” Royal blue eyes turn to stare out at the forest. “What are the chances he went back out there, alone?”

Four hesitates, fingers drumming on his thigh as the colors swarm in his mind. “I don’t know, but I should probably check.”

“We need to watch camp.” The older hero frowns.

“You watch camp, I’ll go out there.”

“You can’t go alone, Four, it’s not safe.” Wars reminds him, concern glinting in his gaze as he turns back to the smithy.

“Fine.” Blue’s the only reason they roll their eyes, they swear. “I’ll take Hyrule. If the vet’s fallen down a hole or something then we can take care of it immediately.”

A smile breaks out across Warriors’ face, even if it is slightly strained. “Funny how that’s even a risk now.”

“Don’t I know it.” Besides, at least Hyrule seems to have a second sense for these sorts of things. Like Sky and Twilight, he has a knack for tracking down the others, especially if he needs to find Time for whatever reason. Four’s seen it themselves, it’s uncanny, but incredibly useful, so they’ve never really questioned it (Vio has, Vio has questioned it enough to give them a head-ache).

It’s the work of a minute to shake the traveler awake, as he’s one of the lightest sleepers of them all, and it takes even less time for them to be off, the simple words “Legend’s gone” being enough to send the traveler springing up and following closely after Four, one hand on his sword as the two of them make their way back into the depths of the forest.

Legend should know better than to try and make a deal with the fae.

Hyrule can recognize the look of a fairy about to claim her prize in an instant, and it appears Legend is about as clueless as a bunny can be about the loophole that he must have left open in whatever twisted deal the two have concocted. Anger burns in his blood as a whisper-hisses through his teeth, a few words all it takes before he’s zipping between the two of them, wings beating furiously as all six of his eyes stare into those of the other with nothing short of pure fury.

“Mine!” He hisses, darting forwards in a fake charge at the other, wings whirring angrily as his eyes stare at them “Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine!” His voice contorts and buzzes, his aura flickering brighter and sharper as he zooms down to hover over Legend’s ears. “MINE.”

“What is your claim?” The other chimes smugly. “What promise or service marks him as yours? Where is the Mark that makes a mortal the charge of a fae, hmm? Show it to me and I will release him to your care.” Glistening teeth glimmer as multiple eyes glisten with malice, jealousy over a potential catch making the fairy’s gaze spark dangerously. “Else ways, leave us be, our deal is near set and you have no business to interrupt it.”

“His true form,” He hisses. “There is my Mark on his hand. The Triangle, my symbol.” He hisses through bared teeth, every eye slitted and glimmering with fury. He can’t lie, not even if he tried, but he’s fae and they’re more skilled than anyone at finding tricks to get around things. The triforce is his symbol, something he’s recognizable by in his world, but it’s not only on his hand, the others bear the same mark and even if it isn’t Fae in origin, it's from the Scared Realm and none can deny that it sets them apart. Anyways, the Fae know mortals by their markings, this should be enough of a claim to make her renounce her dealings with Legend.

No fae dares mess with the Charge of another.

“What is your proof? Can you show me?” She taunts.

“My power isn’t that strong.” He hisses. “You do it and then you’ll see!”

“And give him what he asks without receiving my due? Oh no little Half-Blood.” She glares at him. “Give me Good Reason or leave alone.”

“He is goddess born.” He hisses out finally, grasping at straws. Mother only taught him so much of Fae law, but surely there’s something against touching those blessed by the heavens, right? “Hylia’s child descended. To touch him or any other of Mine is to plead wrath from the Scared Realm.” A sly smile slides over pointed teeth. “Would you wish that on Yours?”

She pales. “Mark your own in all forms, Halfling. This would not happen if you did.” It’s all she cares to say though, zipping away without another word.

“Do I want to know what I just avoided?” Legend’s voice croaks up at him, faint and pitchy all the same as he looks up to the fairy above him.

“I don’t know. But never, and I mean NEVER, make deals with fae again. Not even me! You can’t break promises or be too careful, you never know what they’ll do.” Two of his eyes glance over his shoulder to ensure that the other Fae is gone for good.

“I was trying to be careful.” Legend huffs, his breath sending Hyrule higher over his head for a moment before the fairy regains his balance. “They’re clever little-” He cuts off, violet eyes narrowing and bunny nose shivering as he looks up at Hyrule again. “You’re a fairy.”

His aura dims slightly, wings drooping ever so slightly as he looks down at his mentor. “Yes.”

Legend stares, violet piercing and sharp. Hyrule has never noticed the hint of gold that bands his irises, nor the flecks of blue that glisten under the effects of a fairy’s glow, and it only makes the Veteran’s stare all the more intense.

“Huh.” The bunny huffs softly. “That’s pretty neat, ‘Rulie.” There's no anger, no accusation in his tone, and when Hyrule brings his gaze up to meet that of his mentor again, all he sees is fondness and intrigue. “Is this new? An item? Were you- no,” Legend’s ears prick forwards, his interest obvious as he leans forward. (Hyrule wonders if the vet realizes that he's smelling him.) “You speak like They do. This isn’t new.”

It’s not a question.

“I’m, uh, half fairy.”

Legend nods slowly. “And you didn’t think to tell anyone?” At the dimming of Hyrule’s glow the vet pulls away, eyes flashing with panic for a moment. “I don’t mean that as a bad thing, ‘Rule, just-” He cocks his head long ears flopping to one side sloppily. “It’s not something I’d think you’d want to hide. Seems pretty useful to me.”

And by useful, Hyrule knows Legend means cool.

“I told Four.” He nods to the Hylian standing over them. The smithy’s eyes flicker various colors, his lips pulling aside into a slight smile as he crouches to be closer to their height.

“Now I’m taller than both of you.” Four chuckles softly, crimson tinged gaze sweeping over the two of them.

“Don’t get smart.” Legend huffs. “This is a curse, not my true form, you’d be tiny too if you were cursed into an animal form. Probably smaller than me!”

There’s a knowing look in the smithy’s gaze, but he holds his silence, smile still present as he carefully looks over the both of them. “Well, if neither of you were harmed in that little exchange, we should get back to camp. Wars will be in a huff if we don’t back with you soon.”

Legend huffs his own huff, but doesn’t object, gathering up the glimmering item he had brought as a toll (Hyrule thinks it might be a precious stone of some sort) and slowly hopping after the Smithy as he turns back towards camp.

They’d have made it to camp rather quickly too, if the sky hadn’t chosen that moment to weep out it’s sorrow with the world and the evils within. Great sheets of rain, the likes of which they usually only expect from the Champion’s Hyrule, flood down over them, and Hyrule thanks all things Holy that Legend is there to break his fall as the water soaks his wings and sends him careening towards the earth. Four yelps in surprise, hands fumbling for his hood as he tried to fend off some of the wet (it does little good, they’ll be soaked in seconds in this downpour.

“In here!” Legend squeaks, the rabbit hero already darting into the nearest hollow he can see that isn’t clearly inhabited. It’s a tight squeeze, and Hyrule nearly knocks his head on the bark of the opening, but Legend gets the both of them under, and despite the mushrooms that seem to fill the space with a soft light, it’s a comfortable fit for the two of them. The ground beneath is laid with moss, purposefully it would seem, and Hyrule lets himself side down into it with an appreciative hum.

“What about Four?” He murmurs softly, looking out of the crevice through which they entered. It’s still pouring buckets, and unlike them, the smithy has no dry place to hide (heavens knows the camp will be soaked. He feels terrible for the others).

“What about me?”

Violet and gold turn upwards as twin gasps escape the two. Four, in all of his minish glory, waves back at them from where he’s perched on top of one of the mushrooms. “Minish portal.” He smiles cheerily (but Hyrule can Taste the nervousness rolling off of him).

“Wait, both of you get small?” Legend’s ears stand up straight, brushing the roof of their shelter. “Smaller?” He corrects himself.

Four rolls his eyes. “It was get soaked or get small. I don’t fancy catching a cold, so I chose small.” He wrinkles his nose (it will never stop being cute), hopping down from the mushroom and free falling into the dampened fur of his rabbit-companion. “Now shut up and let me warm up, you’re bigger than I am and since you left me out there to soak I think I can get away with using you to warm up.”

Hyrule’s laughter rings soft and sweet through the hollow, Legend’s vaguely offended expression only adding fuel to the fire as he flits closer. “The vet doesn’t really mind cuddles, do you Ledge? Besides,” He lets his wings fall still, embracing the warmth of Legend’s soft fur as he lands in it lightly. “We just saved his ass.”

Legend turns his head to stare at the two of them, but even in rabbit form his lips twitch with amusement as he shoves him nose into Four’s personal space, making the minish-hero tumble down into the moss with a faint yelp. “You’re soaking.”

The smith grins back, plunging right back into the warm pink fur. “That wasn’t a refusal.”

“One time.” Legend huffs, ears flicking briefly. “One time only, smithy. Enjoy it while you can.”

“Trust me,” Four sighs, plonking down against the vet and leaning into the plush fur around him. “I will.”

It takes mere seconds before Four has drifted off, and Hyrule is reminded that the smith was keeping watch for most of the night before they had gone out looking for Legend. Guilt, sickly-sweet, yet bitter, taints his tongue as Legend stares down at the tiny form curled against him. Hyrule sighs. “I guess he was more tired than I thought.”

Legend only huffs, ears flicking back and nose shivering as he noses the smithy’s sleeping from. Four’s dropped off like a stone, completely dead to the world as Legend curls around him (not dissimilar to how Sky had curled around him earlier that night), easing the gentle shivers of the smith, who noses deeper into Legend’s pelt. Tiny paws coming up to catch hold of pink fur as Four curls up, feather-like tail brushing against the top of his tiny nose, moved only by tiny snores that make Legend’s ears twitch and Hyrule giggle softly.

“The rains still pouring down.” Legend hums, gruff as he can be in his current state, but Hyrule knows it’s all an act. “You might as well get some sleep too, ‘Rulie.”.

And while any other time Hyrule may have argued, Legend lifts his head to offer the space next to Four, and if Legend is offering cuddles, especially with his silky soft fur as a barrier against the cold, Hyrule knows he can’t resist it.

Four’s paw catches hold of him the instant he settles next to the smithy, and before he knows it the two of them are both bundled up in each other while Legend curls himself around them, breath soft and soothing as his heart pit-patters away inside of him.

That’s how they wake the next morning.

Wolfie’s nose shoved against the crack in the bark is what pulls them back from the land of dreams, and the soft snuffling bark followed by Time’s voice is what gets them up on their feet. It’s an awkward thing, emerging into the light again to find five heroes and a wolf staring down at them in a mixture of confusion and concern, but nobody seems to be able to bring themselves to scold when Four sneezes.

“We got caught in the storm.” Legend huffs when he sees the soft expression on Time’s face.

Wolfie huffs, and, much to the surprise of the currently shrunken heroes, they can hear the laugh in it. “Of course you did.”

Hyrule’s mouth drops open, all six eyes bugging out in shock as he turns to Four. The fairy’s whisper is high and shocked, but too sharp a noise for Hylian ears, although Legend, Wolfie and Four can all hear him quite clearly. “Wolfie is Twilight!”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #fluffics #lu legend #lu twilight #lu hyrule #lu sky #lu four #lu warriors #fairy hyrule #bunny legend #minish four #minish four has friends!#fairies can taste emotions hc #Fairy Hyrule has six eyes #shut up and let me have eldritch hyrule!#wolfie linked universe #wolfie

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Caught Red-handed

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing, Struggling with migraines

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having suffered from migraines all their life, Y/N knows better than to give them much attention or let them hinder their work too much. However, their boyfriend is a lot more worried than they are and has taken it as his personal duty to ease their pain as much as he possibly can.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to get to it, write and post it, but here it finally is and I hope you come across it and read it! I’ve never experienced migraines nor have I known someone who has so if I’ve misrepresented or written any misinformation, anyone who catches it, feel free to let me know either in the comments or in my inbox/messages! Love, Vy ❤

The first time I got a headache was in the middle of math class in eighth grade. I remember it so distinctly because I had never before experienced such sudden and such intense pain. I got to go home early that day and spent a good portion of the day trying to sleep it off but to no avail.

Since then I’ve grown used to having to deal with a pain so strong it renders me unable to function for a whole day about two times a month. Sometimes, I even try to be stubborn with it - I try to push through as much work as I can despite the migraine, but that never works out for a long time considering it ends up crippling me in the end. That’s never kept me from trying over and over again though!

Now, to contrast my nonchalance and even annoyance with these pesky attacks, is my boyfriend Corpse’s concern over them. I’ve tried explaining to him that I’ve grown used to them and that I try not to let them bother me and that he shouldn’t stress over them so much but I may as well be talking to a wall because all he has to do is see me squint my eyes or cringe and he enters concerned-mother mode. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it to no end, I just don’t want him worrying over something so small. Also, a minor convenience: if the migraine doesn’t hinder me from tending to my tasks, Corpse will. He’ll make sure I’m off the task I’m working and transported into bed in an instant.

That’s why I’m now clenching my jaw, struggling to maintain a poker face as I work on an important project I have to send to my boss by the start of next week. I’ve got plenty of time, but I like to stay on top of my work so it doesn’t pile on top of me, you know what I’m saying. Corpse is sitting on the couch next to me, casually glancing at me every now and then while remaining quiet as to not disturb me. So far so good, he hasn’t noticed anything and, if I didn’t know any better I would sigh in relief. There’s nothing to trigger the pain to arise any further - the lights are dim, I’m staying hydrated, and I downed two painkillers in the bathroom about an hour and a half ago - so I’m sure I’ll be in the clear at least until dinner.

“Wanna watch a movie when you’re done?“ Corpse asks, “Unless you’re tired or anything...“

I flash him a grateful smile, giving his knee a squeeze of reassurance, “I’d love to, babe. But I can’t promise that I won’t fall asleep.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I know you’ve got a tendency of doing that.” Giving me a side-glance he adds, “It’s cute.”

I roll my eyes, already sensing a blush creeping up on my cheeks and neck which I hide by turning to face my laptop screen. One thing I can’t hide though is the wide grin that’s spread across my face as I mutter: “Shut up.”

Just then, a particularly sharp jolt of pain courses through my head, testing that ability to maintain a resting face. Thankfully, Corpse is turned in the opposite direction, searching for his phone, so I allow myself a brief cringe at the discomfort.

Guess the painkillers are dying down on me, I think to myself, a second away from sighing exasperatedly at the thought that I have to down two more. It was wishful of me to think I could enjoy the luxury of a dull ache until dinner, now the migraine is straight up mocking me.

I quietly stand up from the couch and make my way to the bathroom so I can take another dose of aspirin because I don’t think I’ll be able to focus on my work for very long if it keeps hitting me with this intensity. Opening the door to the small cabinet above the sink, I automatically reach out for the bottle of pills but stop when I see a surprise.

Directly in front of the bottle stands a note written in, you guessed it, Corpse’s handwriting.

‘Already losing effect, huh? When are you thinking of coming clean?‘

Well shoot, am I that transparent?

I sheepishly exit the bathroom, walking back into the living room where Corpse greets me with the same stance as a parent greeting their kid who’s gotten home past curfew: legs crossed, arms folded over his chest, one eyebrow raised, the whole nine yards.

“Yeah, they’re already losing effect.“ I admit, a small apologetic smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks burning with an embarrassed blush. “And I wasn’t gonna tell you at all.” I hurry to add: “Please don’t be mad though.“

Corpse shifts slightly, his gaze giving me a onceover as he contemplates how to pursue the case. I’ve already got several arguments/defenses ready - the perks of working for a lawyer - but I know he’ll dismiss all of them no matter how strong they might come off as in court. Bottom line: even statements that would fly in court can’t fly with Corpse sometimes. Especially when my health and well-being are the topic of observation.

“What have we said about lying?“ He finally asks, causing me to cringe and ball my fists in guilt.

However, I still have my arguments ready: “You never asked me so I never technically lied.” One might say I have quite the audacity to plead not guilty right now, even though I’ve been caught red-handed, but what can I say, I’m stubborn in nature. And Corpse knows this, he’s just testing me for his own amusement.

“Poor excuse, Y/N.“ He says with disapproval, shaking his head and fully embracing his disappointed parent persona. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. So, as punishment for hiding the truth from me, you are to ditch that project you’ve been bugging yourself over and come cuddle and watch a movie with me. Bonus points for you if you fall asleep.“

I needn’t be told twice - not only will it wipe that look off his features but it’ll also get earn me a movie night with the additional benefit of cuddling with my boyfriend? - how could I refuse?

I can’t help it, I just gotta push my luck here and poke the bear with a stick, “If the punishments are so sweet I might start being dishonest more often.“

Corpse rolls his eyes, scooting on the couch and tapping the space he’s freed up for me, “I said I was feeling generous, don’t bet on it happening often though.”

Alright, enough luck-pushing, I should be grateful for this generosity instead. I should be using it to the max.

So, what’s stopping you from doing just that?

Good question, brain, good question.

Head still pounding just not as intensely, I slip under the thin soft comforter to find myself not only wrapped in it but also in Corpse’s arm, his warm embrace bringing me instant comfort, walking me on the tight-rope of falling asleep right away.

“Sneaky bastard.“ I attempt to mutter, yawning halfway through.

I feel his lips on the top of my head, placing a quick and gentle kiss in my hair before he says, “You’re welcome, babe.”

Count your lucky stars, Y/N. You’ve got one of the good ones.

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

Hi! So I would like to request a Seb x reader one shot if you have the time ☺️ I just got diagnosed with Endometriosis today and am in need of some soft Seb... Could you write smth where Seb finds out that reader is always in pain during sex and never said anything, though he knows she has Endometriosis and usually cares for her during her period... and he then encourages her to get surgery to try and fix it? Only if it's okay though, I know it's very precise, sorry!

A/N; I am so sorry to hear about this hun, i hope there’s something that can be done, no one deserves to go through that kind of pain. I researched endometriosis and it certainly sounds horrible, I’m sending you all my love and support 💙

Endometriosis - Sebastian Stan x reader

Masterlist Link

Summary; based on the request, I changed it a tiny bit so I hope that’s okay, I just feel like if r was in pain seb would notice, I hope you like it hun 🤍

Warnings; endometriosis, smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), 69ing, mentions of sex toys, illness, mention of alcohol, fluff, pain, swearing

divider by @firefly-graphics

It hurt like a bitch, there was no way to put it, or at least it was a simpler revelation of description at the prying of your womb had you near to tears. You laid your head down into the pillow, mushing it into the fabric, as you wanted the pain to dwindle down into nothing, and thus you tried to ignore your own suffering, as you turned over to be on your back, severely wincing by the change in position. A groan came from the other side of the bed, as the man that was laid there began to shuffle, in the midst of waking up.

“Morning.” He spoke with a hoarse voice, the steadiness obliterated by his blatant hangover that was haunting his form. Sebastian rubbed a hand over his eyes as he fully awoke, stretching his back as he reached his arm out, swiftly hooking it around the back of your neck as you allowed yourself to lay on the muscle. “Guess neither of us got laid, did we?” He laughed lightly, shaking his head, as he tipped his chin up, blinking his baby blues up to the ceiling.

“Considering that we’re in the same bed, and that you’re not a stranger to me, I guess not.” You laughed to your close friend, whom was aware of your condition, but not the extent of it. “Looks like you’re going to suffer from no morning sex Stan, I’m sure that sucks for you.”

“Usually it’s someone else doing the sucking.” You smacked his arm at his off handed comment, pulling a smirk out from the man as he turned to face you, pulling you closer by the contact that he had upon you. “I’m guessing your disappointed that you’re not waking up to some muscular, blonde haired and blue eyes patriotic punk.”

“If you’re describing Evans, i swear that I will punch you in the dick, I said he was attractive once.” You put emphasis on the amount of time(s) you had ever mentioned it. A pout quivered his lips, as he shuffled beneath the covers, angling his hips in a more comfortable position so that they weren’t being crunched down on the mattress.

“You can punch my dick, on the agreement that you kiss it better.” Seb allowed a hollow smirk to mull over his handsome features, as you swatted his bicep once more, an unhumored frown conforming its position upon your face.

“I’m not one of your hook ups, I’m not gonna get on my knees for you buddy.” You bantered back, raising a brow at his inquisition. No, you were not a past sexual partner of his; it was a constant of him never having a serious relationship, he opted for flings rather than any long engagements, you suspected that he had feelings for someone else, but you were not sure of whom.

The thought alone of him being endeared with the image of one woman brought a pain to your body, separate from your medical suffering. Though your opinion wasn’t fair, considering that you as well, or had your time of sleeping around before the pain in your inner walls became too much, and that was one of the many things that you had given up, more or less.

To support the montage of your body’s self torture, you had a mixture of hormone and tablets that helped reduce the unexplainable sensation that willed around in your lower half, swarming around like an internal snake bite in your own body.

“69 then?” He joked, but it felt so serious. You knew he wasn’t being truthful, it was the relationship the pair of you had, though his face had moved closer, his breath fanning over your face, making your heart prominently race as you thought about such a scenario. “Having mentioned Evans...” he began to change the conversation, having felt the heat that had radiated from your body.

“Go on.” You pried at him, interested in hearing what his friend had opted to say about the pair of you. It wasn't every day that you heard celebrities gossiping about you.

“He thinks we’ve hooked up.” Sebastian stated, making your neck reel slightly back as you took in the fact, of well, the perceived view point of a world renowned, household name, actor. A part of you was slightly embarrassed, you held your own cheek as the words that Chris had passed on sunk in on you.

“We, no, never. Okay, I’m exaggerating, that would not be so bad, but it would definitely be weird. But like, why does he think that, of all things?” You asked whilst partially laughing. It made you partially aware of yourself, and the prospect of you possibly having made your feelings obvious, but that however hadn’t been the case as Seb scratched over the stubble that he had on his chin, and did that awkward Bucky smile that had became humorous in his new marvel show.

“Of all things; it’s like you’re trying to break my heart babes.” With one diverging look from you, he knew he was done for. It always pained him to keep secrets from you, and this was the one that he had been hiding for so long. “You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you? Okay, fine. I still can’t believe that you haven’t caught on, after all this time, but this just shows that you haven’t noticed how I try and scare away every guy with my money and power.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” Lightly you scoffed, having many memories of such a situation. It was a pattern that kept repeating itself, but to you it had just become normal, and to say you were fine with it was not incorrect. It gave you hope that he could reciprocate the emotions that you held towards him, though having a wish like that was altogether hopeless. He was just protective, that was all, he probably saw you like a little sister, or something of the sort, that really put a drab annotation on the prospect of romance.

“Ever wonder why?” Ever, more like all the time, but you allowed him to continue without disruption, by doing so more would be unveiled by that mouth of his, and you were eager to learn more, yet a little hesitant. “It is because I am so tired of being your friend, I love it, don’t get me wrong but...” you were dreading what was to come out of his mouth next, you squeezed your eyes shut, almost as if you were unable to see, the pain would not render upon your specimen. “I love you.”

“You what?!” Eyes snapping open, you were blatantly shocked by his confession. “That can’t be right Seb, you’re you, and I’m me, and-“

“We’re us.” He finished for you. As he noticed you relax from his contingence, which allowed him the time gap to slide closer, his warm and soft hand running up the side of your face as he watched you gasp from the sensation. It was not the first time he had touched your cheek, but it was the first instance in which he done so intimately; you were rather fond of the treatment.

You nuzzled your face into the curve of his hand, your brows lightly directed in a downwards motion as you lulled in his touch, and that was when you realised that he had frozen. “Shit.” You stopped him from moving away, pausing the sadness in his eyes for the current second. “I should have responded, that was my bad. I love you too, I’m not just saying that, so you know.”

“That’s a relief.” Sebastian sighed, falling back onto the mattress, bringing his face accidentally closer to your own. The tips of your noses were touching as your eyes ogled deep within the pools of one another’s, it was impossible not to seek a closer vicinity, and thus, you slunk closer, bracing the tips of your nails against his scruff, as your lips worked their way onto his.

“How would you like another kind of relief?” You pulled away, stroking down the smooth course of his shirt covered chest, prompting a suggestive dialogue in your tone. His brow raised as he thought about it for a moment, but then he remembered a rather distinctive matter he didn’t want to cause any obstruction to.

“What about your, you know?” He was referring to your endometriosis, having the knowledge about the unfortunate illness that interfered with your life. Through it all, the doctors appointments, the encouraging you to take your medication on days that you weren’t feeling particularly well, he was there. Now it made sense why.

To reply, you softly shook your head, combing your hands over his shoulders, as you answered him. “If it gets too much, I’ll give you the signal.” You spoke, leaning down to peck his lips, though you still saw the reluctance that was embedded on his forehead in the form of strict lines. “I promise.” You persuaded him, meaning the sentiment, as his eyes trailed down, his hand scourging a fierce, passionate grip upon your hipbone as his tongue weaved its way back into your mouth.

You moaned into the atmosphere of his mouth, grabbing onto his cheeks as you heaved breaths into the internal beyond of this man, rolling on top of him, as you swept your crotch down against his own, extracting a sinister sound out of his guttural throat. It was only turning you on more, and you knew that if you didn’t do something, even despite the recommendations of your doctor, you would be sufficed with a lack of pleasure, and that was all you currently craved.

It wasn’t fair how you had been dubbed with the condition. So many people in the world could have sex whenever they pleased, yet you were forced to commend under the sentence of experiencing a discomfort when all you wanted was the comfort of being intwined with another human being. That connection, it felt mandatory, however you were denied it, for every time that you proceeded to bed a stranger, or a partner of any sorts, the stretch of anything in your walls pursued you with a fracture of pain.

You’d even had to throw out your vibrator, whilst it felt good on the outside, the clenching of your empty walls sparked physical and mental hurt, and reminded you of the fact that whenever you were filled by any length, your body could not function to emit pleasure, instead it was the opposite that you were tasked with contracting. The thought and reminder often spewed tears in your eyes, but you held them back as you got lost in Sebastian.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He admitted sentimentally, and your heart both became full and broken. It was sweet and scorching to the arousal between your legs to know that he was that concerned about your well being; he wasn’t just prioritising getting his dick wet. He resumed pressing succulent kisses on your lips, he lulled in the notion, he too wanted to be close to you, but he wasn’t willing to do inadvertently so to the expense of you being in pain.

That was the opposite of what he wanted, even as your hand wandered down his firm and pheromone driven body, that bucked in your grip, as your hand hooked around his bulge, your thumb stroking over his round sack as he grew beneath the layers of his soft sweats and underwear. “69 then?” You reiterated his earlier words, causing his pupils to blow wide, and his blue irises to darken into the juxtaposition of stormy skies.

“Will that be okay?” You confirmed it was, even if you weren’t completely sure yourself. The angles, the penetration, it was all elements, that combined gave you an equation that you had yet to figure out. The only way to do so was to try it, even if it concluded in an error, and not a sensible answer. To instigate the next step, you roused your sleep shirt from your body, leaving you in nothing more than your causal panties, but Seb didn’t seem to mind.

In fact he rather preferred the normalcy of your actions and undress, it made the strategy of shifting from friends to intimate lovers into one of relaxation, there was no absurdity nor discomfort yet, for either one of you. Your fingers dipped in the sides of your underwear, teasing the band, as you cocked your head towards Seb, licking your lips as you took in the view of him entranced by your being. “Am I going to be the one naked or...”

You were grateful that he took the hint, and stripped himself from both layers that kept his goods confined. He rapidly removed them, leaving his uncut cock open to your gaze; it wasn’t anything massive which was a relief, but it for now, it was to be attained in the confinement of your mouth, rather than the realm of your cunt, so that slight stretch could await. As you thought of that, you reached your hand out, dancing your fingers lightly over his shaft.

Seb emitted a soft huff from his obtainable lips, he dragged you to be laying atop of him, as your thighs surrounded his length on either side, it was warm, and rested perfectly below your where your cunt was hovering. How you wished to just sink down on it and- “Turn around.” For a moment you took time to refrain your memory to perceive what you had said before. And then, whence your words caught up to you, it was simple to do so, especially with the motivation of what was going to happen.

As you spun around, to be facing his lower half and have your own above his mouth, you watched his cock twitch, as it rested heavily upon his abdomen. You could feel your nerves kick in; it was a substantial difference from anything that you had ever done together, from looking at the stars and watching cheesy movies, to sexual actions, it was quite the leap. But a welcome one, you had waited so long to acknowledge your feelings to him, you'd be damned if you were not going to act on them.

A shiver rippled up your spine as he paved a lick through your slit, it made you tense up for a moment, and you try to register any diagnosis of pain, you coiled when he put one of your lips in his mouth. It felt good, which was a relief, and you took that as a sign to reap your front forwards, and focus on his throbbing hardness that was oozing precum against his perfect skin. The drop of essence looked like liquid moonstone, catching the ambience of the snooping sun that eyes through the crescent opening of the closed curtains, creating a luminescent light against the contrast of his skin.

Leaning forwards, as the initial shock of Seb using his tongue on you had settled in, as a faint plea from inside of you derived away in your eternal being, your tongue glided over the patch of fallen precum, your eyes fluttering at the heavenly, yet rare taste, it wasn’t every day that a man’s cum was relatively nice on your buds. Some perceived eating junk food as a lifestyle, caring not for how the receiver of their sperm would taste within the mouth of a giver on the other end. Sebastian hummed against your slick folds, as he danced his hands around your ass, grasping your cheeks firmly.

His fingers swept through the outside of your cunt, fooling around with your labia as his tongue swirled your bud, making your face grimace on the edge of pleasure, as your warm lips wrapped around the head of his cock, whirling your tongue within his slit, as your hand rested around the rest of his length, jerking it in your grasp, as his hips lightly heaved upwards against your face. He teased a finger around your entrance, running the tip along the wet flesh that mimicked your breaths as it clenched prosperously.

“Shit!” Tears webbed in your eyes as he entered the finger, though he considered that a resonating profanity of pleasure. To your dismay, it indeed was not though, the entry of the digit weighed heavy inside you, prying sorely against your walls as your giving to him paused, as you harshly gripped his thigh. “Shit, that hurts Seb. Fuck!” In an instant, he stopped, extracting his finger out from within you, as it caused you further pain, and helped you turn around, and lay languidly upon the bed.

“Oh my god, fuck, I’m so sorry y/n/n.” He panicked, immense guilt wavering his body, as he grasped your face, staring with sorrow into your seasoned expression. “I didn’t mean to- didn’t want to hurt you, shit, I should never have tried to-“ soothing his conflicting emotions, you stroked his shoulders, kissing him to ease his words into silence. He felt guilty, but so did you, you were the one whom had encouraged to pursue the rhythm of your shared sexuality to one another, deducting the poise of your actions with tear beaded eyes.

“It was my fault; I said it would be fine. I should have known it shouldn’t have, I’m sorry.” You reasoned with him, knowing that you had told him that it was to be something that you could manage, but from experience, you should have had better knowledge of how things would turn out.

“Don’t you ever apologise, you’re perfect, the only thing that I want to ease is your suffering. Is there any news on the operation that can be done, should I get you your medication now?” He wanted to be certain, to ensure that you didn’t put the accountability of your situation completely on yourself, he should have asked if a finger would have been fine, he shouldn’t have been swayed by your persuasion. “I could talk to someone, see if I could get the thing moved up, I can pay for it, get you further up on the ladder.”

“No.” You smiled, pressing an ample kiss upon his scruffy cheek. “I don’t want that, many other people are waiting for the op too, and I can’t have you paying for it. That would just be inconsiderate of me, you have already done so much for me, I can’t ask more. You’ve been there through everything, just wait with me whilst I wait for myself.” You pulled the sheets over your breasts, staring opulently into his serene eyes, shuddering as he swept his lips over your mouth once more, deriving you breathless for a moment.

“It’s okay to be selfish, if any of them had that chance, then they would take it. I can afford it, and I would want nothing more than to pay for it, it’s not just about sex, you know that. I love you so so much, you’re my best friend, the girl of my dreams, I’ve waited for you, I just want the pain that you live through to disappear. Out of all people, it’s not fair that it’s you, but it is, and this is the one way to fix the reductive searing of hurt that you live through.” You gulped, water glazing your irises as you stared at her, trying to diffuse your light sob.

His words brought acceptance to you within the scenario, as you took a deep breath in, confronting the trigger that had set off inside of you. It was difficult to handle and attain to, as you curled in his bare arms, exasperating your soundness close to him, as he competently cupped your face, kissing the tip of your nose. “Okay.” You agreed, nodding sincerely along with your words. “Okay, I’ll do it for me. It’s the right thing to do.” A smile raved his face, as you convinced yourself of doing so. It was to be a long road, but Sebastian would be there holding your hand, travelling down this path alongside you.

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hes-writer · 3 years

Text

All Too Well

Summary: right person, wrong time

Warning: sweet fluff and angst

Word Count: 4519 words

A/N: listen to ‘All Too Well’ by Taylor Swift first as there are some references throughout the fic. I also added time stamps as this occurs over the course of one year. I’m sorry if it’s confused—I tried my best to make it as coherent as possible ❤️

also, covid doesn’t exist in this au!

‘~~~’ = flashback, ‘—‘ = cut scene

November 2020

Y/N scrambled through the many articles of clothing sprawled in her drawer. The fabrics mingling with each other into a giant mess. It didn’t even include the pile of clothes sitting on the mattress and dripping on the floor.

That was the thing with Y/N. She had a habit of keeping things she didn’t need. She wasn’t a hoarder—although, Y/N did keep more things in favour of their sentimental value. It was her thing.

The fact that she could cradle a t-shirt in her palms and tell someone exactly what happened on a day that moulded the story of that specific shirt was her skill. Y/N liked to think that you could tell a lot about a person on what kind of clothes they wore—whether they were seeking affection or isolating, but not lonely.

In fact, her clothes didn’t just hold meaning for herself—it catered pieces of places she went to wearing the outfit. The things she thought of while adorning it, the emotions that she felt as it covered or—barely—shielded her skin. It was especially important to her to remember the people she spent it with.

Like that oversized, knee-length coat hung near the back of her closet. Y/N barely wore it now but seeing it beneath the splayed doors of the wardrobe, she could see flashes in her head about the last time she had worn it.

The way the pea coat flowed behind her as she twirled in a gentle circle, twisting the fabric slightly and catching tiny drops of littered snow. Y/N could picture the bulbous hat she wore on her head. A tiny pompom weighing every which way with the direction of her head. Her hands were in warm mittens that rendered her fingerless. The snow boots on her feet were crunching with every step of the crisp white snow beneath her feet.

It was truly a winter wonderland when the white weather sprinkled down on her—on them.

Y/N could just about feel the same large grin replicating her face when she snapped out her memory. The ghost of the hung overcoat literally hunted her as it rested in the shadows of her closet.

Y/N blinked twice, slouching her shoulders as she stayed frozen on her knees. The carpet wasn’t doing much to protect her taut skin, but she was in search of something and intended to find it. Except, she couldn’t find it anywhere.

She was sure that there was absolutely no way that she could lose it. It was a loud patterned scarf that frayed at the edges. It was, quite possibly, the ugliest design Y/N had laid her eyes upon. Though, a certain someone had reassured her that she looked beautiful regardless. Besides, the air was way too chilly to think about fashion choices that day.

~~~

December 2019

“Why don’t you pose for me, love?” Harry suggested, holding his phone tightly in one hand. That same hand was pulled free of the warm confines of his leather gloves as he insisted on capturing a few photos of his girl.

“You got it, mister,” Y/N replied, bending down to ball a glob of snow in her mitten-covered hand. She could just barely feel the iciness radiating off the protective layer. “Mind if I add some props?”

She lifted her hand, a raised brow quirking up her knit beanie.

Harry chuckles, “Go right ahead,”

He tilted his phone, ignoring the way his fingers lost feeling at the fingertips in favour of watching the woman of his dreams throw the patch of snow in the air. He captured the picture, admiring the way her back looked. Y/N really was beautiful from all angles. It was kind of counterintuitive, really, since it was snowing after all. But Harry was way too enamoured to question the questionable actions of his lover.

Besides, the gleaming smile on her face was enough to wipe his mind clean of anything other than her.

“Great! Why don’t you turn around?”

The woman looked over her shoulder was a subtle roll of her eyes, “No way,”

“C’mon, love. ‘S not even tha’ ugly,” Harry urged, commenting about the scarf wrapped around her neck.

She scoffed, “The fact that you have to reassure me is proof that it is ugly,”

Y/N played with the thin ends of the fabric, smiling to herself as she heard Harry groan loudly behind her. They were staying at Gemma’s house for the holidays and Y/N had purchased the first scarf she had seen at the store. She had nearly forgotten it if it weren’t for Harry calling her the night before to ensure that she would be warm during their stay. Not only was it cold, but the chilliness was just a tad too crisp to leave the cozy home without some sort of neck protection.

So, here she was dressed all cute from head-to-toe except her shoulders. It was a bit stupid to care so much about an ugly scarf design but Y/N guessed it had something to do with wanting everything to be perfect.

“I don’t think it’s ugly,” Harry quipped, sounding much closer than he had before. “‘Think it’s really nice. Especially the cutie who’s wearing it. Mind if I borrow it some time?”

Y/N couldn’t help the appearance of her love-struck eyes, smiling again when she felt his bundled arms snaked around her waist. Harry was warm, as usual, and he was sturdy as a rock both literally and metaphorically. Standing still in the snow gave her a bit of a shiver but having Harry’s body close was a breath of relief.

He cradled her between his arms, resting his own scarf-covered chin on her shoulder. Y/N knew that he must’ve been bending at the knees to reach that height. She clutched his naked hand between her mittens, directing it to a pocket in the confines of her coat to keep warm.

“Are you talking about me or the scarf?”

“How about both? Make it a two-for-one deal, yeah?” Harry’s voice was a bit hazy.

He felt as though he was captivated in a trance, watching the snowflakes rest gently on the slope of Y/N’s lashes. Her eyes glancing at their joined, mittened and gloved, hands.

She sighed, “Why not?”

Harry gave a silent cheer, leaning little ways into peck her cold cheek with his lips.

“Alright, now why don’t ya’ twirl for me, Y/N?” He instructed, taking cautious steps back in the snow.

“Like this?”

Harry nodded, thumbing the red button on his phone to press ‘record’. He watched as Y/N gracefully spun in a circle. Her pea coat flailed just at knee-level. Her boots squelched the starch white snow.

She did a full 360 before fully facing him with a bright grin. Harry couldn’t be sure how much his heart could take. He switched the setting to capture a photo.

“Exactly like that,”

He wanted to remember this.

~~~

Upon realization that Y/N would not get hold of that specific scarf—at least not for a while—because it was at Gemma’s home miles away from her, Y/N forced herself to clean up the mess she had made. Maybe it was the sudden strike of sensitivity coursing through her but Y/N felt much more emotional than she did before.

Perhaps it was the match-strike ignition of burning memories that flickered through her brain because once she started; she couldn’t stop.

It started with the frosty memory of twirling in the deep snow. Then, it was the flashback of driving from the grocery store to pick up ingredients before heading back to Gemma’s.

Y/N couldn’t deny the butterflies she felt playing that particular memory back because it was one of the moments that cemented a deep-rooted emotion in her.

The feeling of being beautiful—captivating, charming and alluring that Harry failed to notice the red traffic light switching to a reflective green. (‘Oi! Eyes on the road’)

She could still see the blush on his pale skin, realizing that he had been caught staring. And, by the way, the car behind them honked when Harry failed to move through the intersection. (‘Sorry, got distracted’).

And Y/N didn’t want to say anything but she could feel his tiny glances over her when Harry thought that she wasn’t paying attention.

———

November 2020

It has been nearly a year now.

Only a few more weeks until the dreaded date looped around to a full year passing. This time, Harry wasn’t around to celebrate the festivities with her and that ugly scarf was an article that Y/N had desperately missed. Ironically.

It would be just under a year when Harry had taken Y/N to his childhood home—now Gemma’s house as Anne had moved to a smaller place. It was where he excitedly showed her his room—the posters on his walls. The comics he used to read and the CD’s he used to listen to piled on his desk.

~~~

December 2019

“Quite an improvement,” Y/N commented, sitting on the edge of his twin-sized bed. She was referring to his King-sized bed from when she had slept over a couple of times.

“I’d say,” Harry agreed. The wood creaked under his weight as he sat beside her.

They both stared at the wall in front of them, feeling a sense of intimacy as Harry shared the remnants of his life to her.

The day continued when Anne had called the both of them down for hot cocoa, paired with a striped red, green and white candy cane dipped in the mug.

This was the part that hurt Y/N the most. It was almost too painful to remember—to reminisce because it was proof that the couple were so close to making a future together.

It didn’t happen, though.

Despite Anne and Gemma’s stories about a once upon a time, dorky Harry in his glasses (‘He still is’)—his family couldn’t stop referencing Y/N as his future.

“Hope your kids don’t take after his naked habit”

“Maybe your garden will have wild roses”

“Reckon you guys will get a small home?”

It made Y/N’s cheeks heat up. His family already thought of her as part of their family. And one sneaky look at Harry ensured her that Anne and Gemma weren’t the only ones thinking of their future because Harry caught her gaze long enough to give her the answer she was subconsciously searching for.

And when salutations had to be said, Harry and Y/N said goodbye to Gemma and Anne as they were to return to their respective London homes.

It was also the day that Harry had asked Y/N to move in with him.

——

It was exciting, to say the least. Moving in with your significant other was a big step in any relationship. The fact that Harry was a world-renowned superstar almost disappeared from Y/N’s mind because even though his home was a million times larger than her tiny flat—it immediately felt like home.

Harry wasn’t one to dwell too much on changes. In fact, he often referred to it as a sign that things were moving forward. There was no use being stuck in the same place when the universe had so much to offer. So, he was quite glad when Y/N made herself comfortable in his—their—home.

She managed to make the large place feel cozy. The decorations and tiny trinkets she had placed all over the house were really just pieces of her heart sprinkled in a home in which they’d build a life together. He would look at a pastel-coloured tea kettle and question when he had gotten the appliance before realizing that it was Y/N’s. Harry would use the tea kettle to boil water instead of using his Keurig.

___

Their schedules wouldn’t always line up. But Harry and Y/N were too loved-up to care how little time they spent with each other. There was no use in complaining when they could use that time to appreciate each other—for sticking around. For being the same when things moved too fast. For being the rock that both of them needed when times get rough.

Harry’s late studio sessions ran through the early morning when Y/N would be cooped up in their shared bedroom. Fast asleep and hugging his scented pillow. Sometimes he would find her bundled with a blanket on the living room couch. The soft glow of the television highlighting Y/N’s beautiful features. One look at her was enough to release Harry of the tension he felt on his joints and shoulders.

Y/N’s night shifts were the same too. She would return to a quiet house because Harry had fallen asleep. Despite his attempts to stay awake, he was not a night owl at all. Not only to stay up past ten in the evening unless he was out to do work. She had reassured him countless times that she would be okay on the drive home and that he should sleep when his body grew tired.

Harry tried to stay awake. He really did. And Y/N could tell because as soon as she crawls to her side of the bed, Harry’s right arm immediately pats the cold sheets for her as if sensing that she was nearby. He would mumble a quiet murmur of her name, “Y/N? Tha’ you?”

He would receive no verbal response, nor would Harry be able to see his love in the dark of the night even because Y/N hadn’t bothered to switch her bedside lamp on. Y/N was aware of Harry’s sensitivity to light, especially if he was in the dark for a long period of time. Despite that, Harry would hum in satisfaction when Y/N’s body would etch perfectly against his in a silent greeting that yes it is her.

They would fall fast asleep cuddled into one another.

If they managed to stay awake or if sleep failed to come, Y/N and Harry would trudge down the stairs for a midnight snack, squealing loudly as one playfully chased the other down the staircase.

Sometimes it was Y/N walking in on Harry munching on a few biscuits (‘Not such a health nut anymore, huh?’). Sometimes it was Harry catching Y/N making a fruit salad—an array of fruits and vegetables laying on the counter (‘I take credit for this’, he would say.)

But it would always end the same.

With both of them dancing goofily with each other. The refrigerator light was the only source of illumination because neither would be bothered to turn on an actual light. Not when the fridge served as a light source and a container of a variety of edible choices.

One night would end with Y/N slow dancing in Harry’s arms. His hands-on her waist, grazing her skin when her pyjamas too lifted. Their bodies would rest against each other like a stacked jigsaw. Harry’s chin on her head, hers on his broad shoulder. A pair of their hands clasped tightly on one another while the other found purchase with their bodies.

Harry would hum a light tune or sing softly so that they can find their rhythm. They would sway across the kitchen—slowly—crying out in pain and laughter when one would bump their hip on the marble counter. Y/N would listen to his heartbeat thrumming beneath his chest and even though she could only see a bit of him—it was enough.

One night would end with Y/N and Harry goofily flailing their limbs every which way. Boisterous laughter filling the room as Harry practically wheezed at Y/N’s admittance of performing a mean Dougie.

And with the fridge light catching the bits of it, Harry would slap his palm on the counter to catch himself before his knees gave out below him (‘There’s jus’ no way you’re that good’). She proved him wrong.

Neither of them knew when it would be the last time these moments occurred. Until they stopped completely.

——

It was the small changes that brought them closer together. And what would inevitably drive them apart.

It was the fact that even though the couple didn’t see each other much, they still cherished the time they had together because that was enough.

The relationship was built off of mutual trust, respect and honesty. Time was essential but Harry and Y/N didn’t necessarily need a lot of it. They just needed the reassurance of ‘always’. That no matter what happens, however far away they were from each other physically, however, the time they spent apart—that Harry would always come back to her and Y/N would always run home to him.

——

It was late-August when they broke up.

Leading up to it, Y/N had been promoted at her workplace and Harry was no longer spending late nights at the studio. He was sleeping in the studio instead of coming home.

Y/N was understanding. He was on a time-crunch since his second album was due to be released at the end of that year. She wanted to be as supportive as she had always been—if not, more. Harry didn’t need more pressure from her—his partner—who was supposed to be his solid ground in a cracking centre.

It was okay. It was okay. It was okay.

It was fine that they were spending less time than they normally would—not that it was a lot in the first place.

He was still trying. She was still trying. Messages, video calls—hell, even emails were there. The rare times when their schedule would actually coincide were spent peacefully sleeping on the bed. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Then, Y/N got promoted. More responsibilities. Training her colleagues. Interviewing assistants. Typing detailed emails. Double-checking spreadsheets.

At the same time that Harry was being pulled left and right to make decision after decision. Finalizing next year’s tour dates. Promos. TV shows. Modelling campaigns. Photoshoots. Interviews.

And like any other, answering later turned into a message left on ‘read’. A missed call manifested into an unopened voicemail. A desperate-measures email was only one of the many in each others’ inbox.

Harry wanted Y/N to come with him on tour the following year but it was a stretch waiting to be snapped.

She couldn’t.

Y/N was starting to build her life, building her career and she wasn’t going to give that up for him just yet. He could go on tour and she could visit when time allows. They knew that. Harry would buy her a ticket and she would be off to see him—when she can.

~~~~

June 2020

“I can’t go. You know that,” Y/N sighed, rubbing a palm over her face.

Harry leaned his shoulder against the doorframe of the bathroom. “I knew that. ‘Was worth a try though,”

They shared a comforting smile with each other. A hint of reassurance when uneasiness prevailed. There was something about the shift from spring to summer that simmered in their chests.

“Promise you’ll come to visit?”

“Of course,”

~~~

London may be Harry and Y/N’s home but LA was calling for him. Hence, why he spent the summer on the other side of the world. On another continent, across the pond, as some people might say.

It’s just a few months. He’ll be back before you know it, Y/N thought.

Harry will be home for the holidays and they would drive up north to spend it with Anne and Gemma as they did the previous year. The year when Y/N had met them for the first time and despite that, attained their approval to build a future with Harry.

Just a few months and then Harry will be back with her. The same Harry who will gently loop an ugly scarf around her neck. Teasing her about its hideousness before reassuring her that it was ‘as stunning as the woman wearing it’. . .or something. Harry always complimented her.

Yet, Harry never came home a few weeks shy before their scheduled road trip as they had planned. And Y/N did not visit him like she had promised to do.

Though, none of them blamed the other because they were too busy with their own lives to keep up with each other. What once was a loving and caring relationship was not a liability pushed to the back burner.

One might say that Harry and Y/N’s love was a case of wrong timing. They were perfect for each other—but just not now.

Because Y/N had a lot of things going for her and expanding her career. Harry was becoming more and more popular and successful by the minute. It wasn’t like they meant to ignore each other or be oblivious that they were still very much in a relationship with each other. Both Harry and Y/N just had a lot on their plate to even think twice about a relationship.

It wasn’t anybody’s fault—really. Even though their phone call says otherwise.

——-

August 2020

“Y-you what? Y/N, love,” Harry spoke through the phone.

Y/N’s breath hitched at the sound of the beloved nickname. It had been a while since she had heard it.

“I want to break up,” She repeated.

“Why?”

The woman picked at her fingernails, distracting herself from going back to the spreadsheet in front of her. She was in the middle of a break up yet her body urged to continue working.

“What do you mean why?” Y/N sighed exasperatedly. “It’s been months since we’ve seen each other, Harry. You said you’ll be home before Christmas so we can see Anne and Gemma but—,”

“We don’t have to see them! Y’can fly out here and spend it with me,”

“You know, I can’t,”

Upon letting those slip past her lips, Y/N was starting to question if Harry had disconnected because of the eeriness over the phone.

And as he said that night months ago with the alteration of Y/N’s word, “‘Know y’cant. You promised, though.”

Harry’s voice cracked and Y/N wondered if he was gnawing on his lip like he usually would when tears overflowed the ducts of his eyes. In the distance, Y/N heard a door close shut and she wondered if he had been working—the same as her—before she had decided to call and he had decided to answer.

A knife pierced into Y/N’s chest, guilt seeping in her veins as she recalled the words she had uttered to him. A promise that she would visit if he gave her the ticket. But that was then and this is now.

She wasn’t the head of her department then. Y/N had a lot more responsibilities now and she couldn’t just up and leave whenever she wanted to.

“And you promised to come back. Did you?”

He didn’t.

“Look, can we talk about this later? ‘M in the middle of recording and—“

“When are you not?” Y/N cut him off absentmindedly, splitting her attention on the Excel sheet in front of her.

“Excuse me?” Harry quipped, faintly hearing the clacks of a keyboard. “I know I work a lot but y’do too. Barely even respond to my texts anymo’”

“Says the one who doesn’t answer my calls,” Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes.

And there it was again. The defeat of silence that proved no matter how much they retaliated against one another—neither of them would win because both of them were at fault.

“I was busy,”

“I am, too,”

“Y/N—“

“What?”

“I-I don’t want to lose you. . .”

The ache in Y/N’s chest grew tenfold. Her fingers momentarily paused over the keys of her laptop board. There was nothing to lose. Not when they’ve already thrown it away.

“I don’t want to either, H. But don’t you think breaking up is better than waiting for something that will never happen?”

“What won’t?” He asked, genuinely curious.

Y/N pushed her chair back, staring at the view of the city from her office.

“Us. Our future. It won’t happen because you’re busy and I’m busy. There’s no right time for us to start, Harry.”

“Who says there has to be a right time, huh?”

“Says, everybody! How are we supposed to build our relationship further when there is no relationship to work on?”

The waves of emotion came crashing down. For months, Y/N had suppressed the feeling of loneliness inside of her. She missed Harry so badly that it hurt her to admit so she went with the temporary bliss of balling it up until it became too much.

“We just need time, Y/N. We don’t need to do it at the right time. Y’know that,” Harry whispered, wishing so badly that this conversation didn’t take place over the phone where he was currently locked in a bathroom stall.

He continued, “You were there, weren’t you? Barely saw you but y’were there. You know how I feel about you and I know you feel about me. We jus’ need time,”

Time.

Because time is when Harry and Y/N would slow dance in the kitchen at god-knows-hour of the morning.

Because time is when Harry and Y/N blissfully spent their time in the cold, watching her throw the bundle of snow in the air as if it was in slow-motion.

Because time is when Harry would look at Y/N and swear that it has stopped because nothing else mattered except her.

“You know it, you know it,” Harry gulped, breath hitching over the phone. Was he crying?

“All too well,” Y/N responded underneath her breath. She knew that he was right—that all they needed was a chance to reconnect and rekindle the flame put out by distance.

She hated how familiar every memory was to her. She hated how easily she was brought back to the moment it all happened with just the breath of his whisper.

There was no denying the emotion she felt wearing his hoodie and red and black plaid pyjamas at three in the morning. The affection she received wearing those pieces of clothing from the man who owned them. Her sock feet glided against the cold floor. Everything came flashing back to Y/N and it hurt because there was no way she could grant his wish.

“You’re asking for too much, Harry. I-I can’t give you that. You can’t give me—us—that,”

“W-what are you saying, love?” He whimpered, clutching the device in his hand as a last resort to hold onto something that was drifting away.

He knew that she was right. Y/N couldn’t give him that and he certainly couldn’t either.

“We can’t be together. At least, not now. We’re not the same anymore. We want the same things but we’re headed on different paths,”

“But we’ll meet again, won’t we?” Harry’s hoarse voice exemplified that he was—indeed—been crying. And Y/N’s wet cheeks were proof that she was as well.

“Always,”

_____

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing

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xxdragonwriterxx · 3 years

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🔥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.

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lavenderdaisyhoney · 2 years

Text

Chapter 3

Word count: 2152

Warnings: blood, action, weapons, spoilers ?

Pairings: Armin Arlert x Reader, Reiner Braun x Reader

Chapter Summary: thoughts and questions are pondered during a night wagon ride. Things take a dangerous turn.

A/N: Chapter three is finally out 😭 thanks for your patience. I kinda got lost with this series as I had no idea which direction I wanted to take it in but now I have a clearer vision. I hope you enjoy 💕

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 ||

It was Reiner.

Armin’s words repeat themselves in your head as you’re sat in the wagon, surrounded by darkness.You felt some sort of relief as you knew titans were rendered immobile after sunset. You glance over at Arina, who is fully asleep in the bed of the wagon, thumb in her mouth. You’ve been trying to get her to stop doing that, but Armin promised you she would grow out of it soon.

You remember how your mother would put some lemon juice on your fingers when you wouldn’t stop sucking them. You smile fondly for a moment before a wave of sorrow washes over you as it always does when you think of your mother. She was a good parent, did the best she could with what she had. Unfortunately, she always fell for the worst kind of men. Case one being your father. There are just some folk that do not deserve to be a parent and your father is evidence of that.

He didn’t believe in a love approach when it came to raising kids, oh no. He was hard. He had you holding knives at the age of seven. The memory of how he would train you from dusk to dawn holds you hostage.

You look at your daughter once again, guilt eating you on the inside for not raising her to be tough but you also promised yourself that you would give your children what was never given to you.

Armin has been a great help with that. He is currently on high alert, eyes shifting to patrol everything around you. Hange is reading a map, a lamp being their only source of light. You pull your gaze to Levi, who is sitting there with his usual scowl, arms crossed. His narrow steel eyes shift over to you, causing you to smirk in return.

“Tch.” He spits out as he glares even harder. His eyes move down to your hand where your ring sits, the lamp causing it to shine at times. “How’s that going for you?”

You look down at your ring, shifting it around your finger. The simple silver band wasn’t expensive but it was yours. “Better than I ever could’ve imagined.”

His head tilts to the side, as if he doesn’t believe anything you just said. “That’s funny. I always thought you would end up like me.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure how to break this to you Captain, but not a lot of us want to be like you.” You tease.

Levi shakes his head and glances off to the side. Armin still hasn’t said a word as he’s still on guard. “I wanted that once.” Levi admits, shocking the hell out of everyone on the wagon, Hange dropped their map. “But with the life we live, it’s hard to think about settling down. We look death in its eyes every single day, barely escaping its grasp.” Levi sighs. “One day, our luck will run out. I just think it’s better my departure doesn’t hurt anyone but me.”

Hange looks over at you, equally shocked that Levi

is talkative tonight. None of you say anything as the silence creeps alongside the terrors that hide in the night, filling the space with fear and curiosity. Levi’s words set in nicely as you always thought the same before. Before you met Reiner. How ironic that the one who helped build your world was also the one who tore it down.

You take the moment to look around, seeing nothing but everything. Sitting in the back of a wagon brings back many memories, most of them unpleasant. A heavy weight starts to form on your chest, as you think about the days when you were just a cadet. Bright eyed and eager to save the world. What a joke. Part of you wishes you never enlisted. The other part scolds you for thinking such a thing.

“She’s pretty cute, you know.” Hange pulls you from your thoughts. You look over at them and notice they’re smiling lovingly at your daughter.

You smile, and nod your head. “Armin and I, we did a good job.” Armin pauses on his patrol to look over at you, a smile on his face. He turns to look at Arina and quickly turns back to continue his patrol.

“Yeah, so you and Armin right?” Hange inquires.

You look over at them once again as their question has you feeling wary. There’s no way they could know but Hange always had a way of knowing things. Things that people wanted hidden deep down inside of them. “I never thought you two would get together.” They add, wave of relief washing over you.

You’re about to reply when Armins stands up in alert, shocking you. “I hear something.” He whispers.

Hange looks around, excitement and alarm clear on their face. “Is it a titan?” They ask, eyes sparkling in excitement.

“I think it's abnormal. It’s almost like it’s stalking us.” Armin answers.

Levi stands up, swords in hand. “I’ll go take care of it.”

Armin nods his head. “I can’t do anything. If I transform, I’ll kill everyone here.” He admits.

Levi disappears in a flash. You grab your swords and crouch in preparation. Hange shakes their head. “Are you doubting your captain, Y/N?”

“It’s not doubt. It’s the worry of a parent. The minute you become one, the feeling of imminent danger never goes away.” You reply, eyes shifting around.

You can hear the clash of Levi’s swords, and the hiss of his odm gear but you can’t pinpoint an exact location. Hange taps on the wagon, telling the man to speed up a bit. You start to take deep breaths, counting down from ten like you always did as a cadet. The countdown is your way of bringing you to a state of complete focus.

Armin has your daughter in his arms, still asleep surprisingly.

“Incoming!” You hear him shout, but you’re already in the air. The familiar feel of the wind as you’re soaring through it starts to energize you. How dare a mere titan come after you and your family? Anger starts to course it’s way through your body, powering you up even more.

The titan is fully focused on you, it’s ugly face showing some excitement at the sight of you. You don’t take the time to be confused as to how and why its so active at night so you just focus on the kill. Only on the kill. You switch gears, making a sharp left into the trees. You need leverage. An advantage. You finally spot a tree tall enough and head that way but before you could reach it, something barrels into you from the side. You hurtle down and hit a couple of trees. Branches whip you left and right, scratching your face and hands. You can see the titan down below, mouth open as it waits for it’s feast.

Not a chance in hell. You weren’t the second best cadet for no reason. You gas up, causing a speed burst that pushes you back on your original course. You take a quick look around, not seeing what it was that hit you before. You know it wasn’t the titan as it was in your line of sight the entire time. You make it to the tree and perch like a bird. The titan is attempting to climb the tree but it’s disfigured limbs make it impossible. Where is Levi? If you squint, you can just make out the wagon heading towards the trees. You need to take care of this titan before they enter the cluster of trees.

Your eyes scatter about as you try to focus on what hit you. You weren’t alone in this forest, aside from the titan. Levi? Hmm, no. It’s strange that the captain suddenly disappeared and that this titan is still alive. Is the old man losing his touch?

Something lands on the branch right next to you, causing you to swing your sword but what you didn’t expect was for your sword to meet another.

The hooded figure takes off the hood, revealing their face. For a second you think the darkness is playing tricks on you but you’re sure that is….Jean? The handsome face smirks in response. “Hey there, Y/N.” Jean greets you.

“Was it you that hit me earlier?” You ask, eyebrows burrowed in a scowl.

“Nah, sorry about that. That was me.” You hear another voice respond. You turn around and see your old friend Connie standing behind you. “I kinda got my gear messed up.” He admits whilst sheepishly scratching his close shaven head.

“What..what are you guys doing here?” You breathe out.

“Protecting you from afar, that’s what.” Jean pauses and looks down at the titan below. “Is someone going to take care of that problem or are we all going to gossip up here?”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” You jump off the branch, the downward fall helping you concentrate as you wait for the right moment to do your famous slash move across the neck of the titan. The move consisted of using your two swords like scissors, decapitating the titan in one move. The titan opens its mouth wider in anticipation. Not today, buddy. You put your swords in position, in that same move your father taught you with knives and you swing. All right. Looks like you still got it. The titan drops down to the ground in one big sad pile of steam and blood.

Connie and Jean land beside you, shaking their heads at your antics. “Still the same I see.” Jean observes.

“Looks like motherhood didn’t soften you one bit.” Connie adds.

Levi finally appears, covered head to toe in blood. “There was more than one. Now there’s none.”

You nod your head. “Nice of you to finally make an appearance, Cap. What I wanna know is how they were active at night?”

“Because they’re evolving, Y/N.” Hange adds, their hand pointing to their brain. “They’re capable of learning! Isn’t that exciting! Well, to be frank, they’re still very basic creatures but they’ve been responding better than ever to stimuli that are not human.”

You didn’t even notice they were standing next to you so you try your best to hide the fact that you were startled. You clear your throat and look around for your family. Your heart eases when you spot them in the wagon, a couple ways behind you. Armin is covering Arina’s eyes from the sight no child should ever see. You silently thank him for being a good father. He blushes to let you know not to worry about it. Regret flushes in when you realize this situation makes it seem like you’re following in your father’s footsteps.

“Are you okay?” He mouths. You nod. He sends you a small smile filled with relief. The little intimate moment between you two is interrupted by Levi.

“Of course they respond to you. You’re probably an enigma to them. Wanna elaborate on your theory, four eyes?” Levi inquires.

Hange rolls their eyes. “I’ve been studying their biological energy and it seems like they’re drawing less and less power from the sun.”

Jean shifts in place, arms on his hips. “What does that mean for us?”

Hange glances at him. “Oh hi there handsome. Didn’t see you there! Well, to answer your question, it means we can no longer move safely throughout the night.”

Hange moves to the wagon carrying their mindless pet and taps the side. The blanket covering it is pulled back, revealing the titan in a slumber. Hange kicks the side of the wagon, waking it. Its eyes start to shift wildly until it concentrates on Hange. “Heyo! Look at those eyes. Kinda cute, right?”

You all glance at each other. Looks like Hange is still one screw too loose. “Your point, Hange.” Levi says impatiently whilst wiping some blood off his forehead.

“Oh yeah! My lovely pet here, who still remains nameless by the way so if anyone has any suggestions, I will gladly take them. Anyways, it can be sort of a warning system. I noticed earlier it started to move when the titans were following us.”

“And you didn’t think to say anything?” Jean asks.

“It escaped me at that moment. I was focused on our route. Plus, they always shift around but it seemed a tad different this time around.” Hange says as they tap their glasses.

You tune out the back and forth between everyone as you focus on the dead titan once again. You didn’t expect to get right back into action that fast but as it steams, the familiar rush you felt while being in the scouts hits you full force.

You missed this.

Taglist: @porcoqalliard @coffeeforday @lue-arlert @fierydiamond @sinnerofthewalls @reiner69er @oh-theseus @levis-hazelnut @usernamehere91 @maddieschai @honeyspalette @daichisbunny @sashatanaka @pockcock @therealbisexualjesus

#armin arlert x reader #attack on titan armin #armin arlert #reiner braun x reader #attack on titan reiner #attack on titan fanfic #aot #snk

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softluci · 3 years

Note

hello yes can i just say i l o v e d your gen z hcs and may i acquire more

for starters, i am not religious, but i am PRAYING you don’t think i was ignoring your ask. i’ve been thinking about it since i got it, it’s just that i’m a college student with worms for brains, so hopefully you understand. this is something that i’ve had on my mind for a long time [i’ve been at this on and off for months], and it most definitely can be associated with/attributed to gen z.

for a fleeting, wonderful period of time, there was a trend on tiktok that went, “buss it, buss it…” are you familiar?

that should be enough of a summary, right? ah—for future reference, “o7” is like a saluting emote, for anyone who might not know. reader is g/n as usual, enjoy!

[a/n: so because this is so long, this part is going to be, like, the lore, and then the actual headcanons will be right here]

trendy

the two things most corrosive to the human spirit are easily named—capitalism and boredom. while it would be easier and less taxing to explain the former, the latter was the problem at hand. it’s not that there was nothing to do in the devildom—quite the opposite, actually—it was just that you wanted some time to yourself every now and again. the trouble with trying to take time for yourself in a completely new location, the residents of which are always enamored with you in one way or another, is that there isn’t anything to do. the house was full of adventures for you to take—the trap door under the rug in the library, the other trap door under the dining room table, the small door behind the couch in the living room, and whatever other poorly hidden doors your seven roommates thought you didn’t know about.

trouble was, you didn’t want to leave your room. you, intelligent creature that you are, knew that the chances of you running into mammon or satan or beel or asmo were all too high, and even higher were the chances of you agreeing to spend time with them if they asked, and you knew they would. what were you to do?

you stared at your ceiling from your bed, d.d.d. resting on your stomach as you let your mind wander. your d.d.d. was full of things for you to do, the devildom’s ethernet at your fingertips, but you weren’t interested in finding new things right now. you wanted something familiar, like—like your phone.

what was the point of lucifer taking your phone, anyway? it’s not like you could use it—being here rendered it a useless brick of glass and metal, so it wouldn’t have been a big deal if you still had it. it was funny, though, that you couldn’t use your actual phone when it was still possible to access the human internet from down here.

at least, you assumed so.

how else would levi be able to keep up with his human idols, get tickets for their shows—the works, you know? luckily, you were fully capable of asking.

d.d.d. now in your hand, you rolled onto your stomach and found your messages with levi, nails clacking against the glass as you tried to reach him.

hey, you texted, can you help me with something?

his reply came faster than you expected: ?? what do you need

how do i access human websites and apps, you asked, rolling onto your side. you know how to, right?

lololol, it’s not possible :p

a grunt, more aggravated than you’d care to admit, escaped from the back of your throat.

don’t lie.

a few minutes passed with no response, and you wondered if you were too harsh.

“he’s a sensitive guy,” you mumbled, inhaling deeply. “i probably came on too strong or something.”

just as you started typing out an apology and a, “forget i ever said anything,” you got a response.

a vpn and a proxy site.

a smile crept onto your face as air came out of your nose, the closest thing to a laugh you could muster.

can you set it up for me?

after another few minutes of no response, you sit up, wondering how you could’ve possibly fucked up a second time, your d.d.d. buzzed.

levi sent you a file and a link, with a host of instructions.

click on the file and it’ll take you to the vpn you need to download. don’t worry about bugs or anything, i made it myself.

you let out a low whistle, flopping onto your back once more.

“this guy gets up to more than i thought,” you said, eyebrows raised. “someone get this man some physical affection.”

you continued to read, growing more fond of him with each sentence.

once you install it, pick the country whose network you want access to. from there, you’ll have a list of that country’s most used applications available for you. again, don’t worry about bugs.

what’s the link for? you asked, excitement getting the better of you.

for when you download internet applications. it’s added security, paste the link in before you search anything or you’ll trigger the firewall alarm.

you blinked.

you’ll trigger the what?

i’ll trigger the fucking What?

levi’s response was the fastest one yet: the Fucking Firewall Alarm. barbatos’ design. he has no idea i know how to bypass it. just do what i said. don’t try to solve any potential issues on your own, come to me for everything.

roger that o7, you replied, thanks levi ^_^

yeah, yeah. come to my room for a hxh binge tomorrow night.

you snorted. what a fucking nerd—in the greatest way possible.

of course bestie :] ily

ily2 normie -_-

in his room, unbeknownst to you, levi felt like he made a mistake of some kind. it’s not that he didn’t trust you, it’s just that you had a tendency to end up in undesirable situations, even if it wasn’t always on purpose. he was probably just worried over nothing, or so he tried to tell himself, but whatever. this isn’t even about him.

you sat up once more, this time leaning against your pillows as you started setting everything up. everything went so quickly that you barely wondered if all of this—subverting hell’s firewall, personally designed by a man eerily similar to a 2D crush from when you were in middle school—was worth accessing a few silly apps from the human world.

a few minutes later, your d.d.d. now a much, much cooler copy of your phone, any and all thoughts of regret and hesitation were absent from your mind.

your first order of business on your upgraded d.d.d. was logging into your tiktok account, however surprising it was that you even remembered the password. you put your headphones in and adjusted your volume, going back into the dumpster fire that is your for-you page with open arms.

after around half an hour of stifled laughter and small, offended gasps from being targeted by the algorithm, you came across a rare dancing video. the person on your screen was in casual clothes, making minor, silly dance movements as the music dwindled, only for them to drop into a squat in time with the music, suddenly dolled up. you shot forward, taken aback by their transformation and by their dancing post beat drop. did you watch it on a loop for a few minutes? well, that’s nobody’s business but yours. you clicked on the sound in hopes of finding similar videos, and much to your relief, there were plenty. about ten videos in, a smile still on your face, you got an idea.

you slipped your headphones out, arbitrarily looking around your room, before whispering to yourself, “i could—i could do that. i could totally do that.”

and you were right. you had nice clothes and makeup from various shopping occasions with asmo. your room had led strips, courtesy of levi ordering the wrong ones and being so kind as to give them to you. you could do it.

levi was the only person you’d spoken to since you retreated to your room a few hours ago, and the lights have been off the entire time, which meant that if you worked quietly enough, everyone else had reason enough to assume you were asleep. good! how could you possibly explain what you were doing getting all dolled up at, like, 11:00 on a wednesday night? you couldn’t, even a little bit—not in a way that convinced anyone, anyway.

come midnight, you were sitting cross legged on your bed, watching your final product. not to be vain or anything, but you were looking very respectfully at yourself. since when could you move like that, anyway? the wonders of being alone, you supposed.

you didn’t post it publicly, electing to save it as a draft just so it would save to your d.d.d. maybe you’d post it once you were back in the human world, when your friends wouldn’t swarm your comments asking where the fuck you were.

yeah, lucifer told you, “everything was taken care of,” but regardless of whether or not you believed him, you knew it wasn’t a good idea to risk finding out if he missed something.

boredom creeping up on you again, you elected to go through the messages on your d.d.d. it would be better to make yourself laugh before you were fully bored again, right? you stood up and stretched, opening the group text with the adults. luke doesn’t know about it; he thinks the one with everyone is the main one, and everyone lets him think that so he feels included.

walking around your room in small circles, you scrolled up to the older conversations and read through them, rolling your eyes and chuckling to yourself. very rarely did they talk about anything of importance. it was mostly diavolo, barbatos, and simeon making quips and jokes at lucifer’s expense for everyone to see. it was gold in its purest form.

you contemplated sending one of the many cursed things sitting in your camera roll, just to keep them on their toes, but just after opening your gallery, you resigned not to, figuring it would be best to leave him alone.

you stretched again, the hold on your d.d.d. a bit looser this time. it nearly slipped out of your hands, but you caught it, tossing it onto your bed. as soon as you resigned to start getting ready for bed, you turned back around and picked it up.

there was no rhyme or reason to your actions; if someone in that moment were to ask you why you did it, you would’ve said, “just ‘cause.”

human intuition is a wonderful thing.

your d.d.d. was still on, still open to the group chat. you’d sent something, evidently a second ago, as indicated by the time stamp. the thumbnail was of you, in casual clothing—the casual clothing you were wearing before you got dolled up, actually. huh.

huh.

the weight of your mistake came crashing down on you in full force, a chill sinking into your skin and running up your spine.

you were suddenly acutely aware of the concept of time, how it was of the essence and you had absolutely none to waste.

what were you to do? it wouldn’t be long before your favorite person saw it. you had to do something.

you could say nothing. you could tell the truth and say it was an accident and that you were embarrassed, but that was even worse than saying nothing because it meant you were set to be the target of teasing you didn’t even wanna try to imagine. you could say it was an accident and be confident about it, telling them, “enjoy!” but that was a dangerous game to play, and you knew it.

well, i do admire you for taking time to think, but, unfortunately, there was a checkmark next to your message. oh, a number as well—eleven. you just can’t catch a break. what were they all doing up at this time, anyway? it was a school night🤨.

#FUCK #this took FOREVER im so glad im done #one day i'm gonna know how to write consistently i promise #i hope u enjoy!#obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me!#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor

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