#i wish it were a simple enough issue that there were specific steps i could take to make sure i'm being healthy about it
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I'm fretting about the whole is-my-attachment-to-Dallon-too-unhealthy thing again 😮💨
#dru speaks#dru vents#i just worry that everything i do relating to him is a step too far#i wish it were a simple enough issue that there were specific steps i could take to make sure i'm being healthy about it#but it's not#and i wish it weren't such an embarrassing topic to bring up to my therapist!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#what evar </3#i want to do whatever i want but i don't want it to be bad for me :[#</33
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An AO3 app? -- The next installment in my AO3 posting.
I'm going to preface this by telling you that I don't entirely understand the urge or need to have an app for everything, but then again, I am closer to 30 than 20, so maybe that's the difference. Moving on.
So I've seen a lot of people saying that they wish there was an AO3 app. Presumably these people read AO3 on their phones or tablets. The thing is, there is NO AO3 app. If you see an app in the App Store or the Play Store claiming to be an AO3 app, it is fake, and you should not download it.
Say it with me kids:
"ao3 does not have an app and will not have an app."
The thing is, there's a really good reason why it will never happen. If you've been on this site (tumblr) long enough you'll either remember or have heard about the great tumblr porn ban (aka the ban on "female presenting nipples"). Believe it or not there was time where the tumblr (official) policy on adult content was "go nuts, show nuts. whatever." <-- actual quote btw.
A big reason why the tumblr porn ban ever happened was because of the tumblr app, specifically, the tumblr app for iOS. Apple decided one day that they thought that the tumblr app contained too much "sensitive content" and they banned tumblr's app from the Apple App Store, until such time as tumblr took what they believed sufficient corrective action for this "issue." Apple also believed that tumblr's app was hosting CP, which they considered a violation of their TOS.
So, in response to Apple banning them from the app store (which did not effect current users of the tumblr app, only potential new tumblr users), tumblr rolled out the adult content ban, so that they could get re-instated on the App Store. Like many other new "features" and "updates" to this site, the roll out was clunky, badly done and deeply unpopular. It was easily one of the worst changes for this site, in no small part because of how clunky it was; lots of innocuous posts were incorrectly flagged, and many bloggers found their entire blogs flagged, with little recourse in the initial wake of the ban. Critically, this event saw a great many users on tumblr leave this platform for twitter. How this affected site culture is up to debate.
Why am I telling you this? Well, as I am sure you, as an AO3 user are well aware, AO3 hosts a great deal of "adult content," of many persuasions and forms. They are explicitly against censorship of any kind. The app store is NOT against all censorship. These are two conflicting values. Since AO3 (and by extension OTW) has no interest in purging content from their site on behest of a megacorp (which btw is also why they rely on donations only and don't serve advertisements), they have no interest in developing an app, given the potential for restrictions.
Besides, AO3's website is simple, clean, and mobile responsive. Why fix something that ain't broke??
But, wait, if you're the target audience I'm hoping to reach with this post, you still want an app for AO3 on your home screen!
Never fear, my app loving youngsters! There is a way for you to create an "app" icon on your iPad or iPhone's home screen for AO3 (or any other site you like really) Apologies Android users; I don't have an Android, so I can't show you something analogous to this on Android, and don't know if they have it. Ditto on Kindle Fire.
This tutorial will use both safari and Firefox*. I won't show you Chrome (derogatory) because I don't have it and don't use it.
*Side note, switching to Firefox today is a great thing that you can do for yourself. You can easily import all of your Chrome bookmarks if that's what worries you.
In Firefox:
Step 1. Visit AO3 in the Firefox browser.
Step 2. Tap the hamburger menu in the right hand side of the top ribbon to reveal the browser and page settings and options menu, and locate the "Share" option (highlighted in blue below):
Step 3. In the "share" menu popup, locate and tap the "Add to Home Screen" option (highlighted in blue below):
Step 4. Give your new "app" (secretly just a bookmark) a title. You can leave it as the default, but I suggest shortening it so that the entirety of it shows on your home screen. You can name it whatever you want.
In Safari:
Step 1. Visit AO3 in the Safari browser.
Step 2. Tap the share icon in the right hand side of the top ribbon and scroll down until you find the "Add to Home Screen" option (highlighted in green below). Tap this option.
Step 3. In the "add to home screen" pop up, type whatever name you want in the name field (highlighted in green below). You can leave it as the default, but I suggest that you change it to something shorter so it displays in full with the icon on the home screen.
Either way, you should end up with an icon on your home screen that looks like this:
This is not an "app" BUT it is an icon on your home screen. When you tap the icon, it takes you to the home page of AO3, in whatever browser you created the bookmark in. You can move it around however you'd like, just like a real app, and put it any folder you'd like.
So that's all I have for this chat.
See you again next time I get inspired to write an ao3 chat/tutorial post for newbies!
Final note, If any of my followers have Android devices or Kindle Fire devices and want to add a photo tutorial for this on those platforms to this post, please feel free to, since I don't have any devices with either of those OSes, and thus could not do that myself.
#archive of our own#fanfiction#ao3#ao3 how to#iPad#ios#long post for ts#ao3 chats#ao3 for newbies#margaret babbles#mine
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monday, june 26th, 2023 / 7:14 am / the velari penthouse
Adelaide Velari woke up, and the world shifted.
That isn’t to say that she hadn’t woken up recently, because she had. Her life, for almost as long as she could remember at this point, was merely a series of beds and pillows and a persistent pain in her body that rarely allowed her to move. Ever since giving birth to Elias, her most beloved boy, something inside of her had shifted. Broken down. Gone was the woman with the straight back and round cheeks. The beautiful hair, and the glistening kind of smile that lured people in. There was a time when some would describe her as enigmatic. As though something about her lips promised that she held secrets in them.
That had all been washed away, leaving instead something entirely changed in the wake of an unnamed disease that no one could figure out. She was withering away, her voice, her thoughts, all of the beauty that life had gifted her—now it was gone. Only when she opened her eyes that morning, she could feel the change. As though suddenly enough, all of the pain and torment was gone, and the only thing that remained from that dreadful nightmare was the knowledge that it had happened at all.
Even more alarming was the simple fact that none of her previous ailments seemed to bother her. Without any assistance from a hapless maid, or a devoted son, Adelaide sat up in bed, her eyes taking in her surroundings with the kind of calculation that was better served for a general. Everything seemed to be in place. Laundry folded in the corner. A machine hooked up near her, alerting anyone if she was having a particularly bad day. They had always been worried about her heart giving way, but Adelaide had the distinct knowledge that it would no longer be an issue. From here on out, illness couldn’t possibly touch her. A corner was turned, and something new was taking root.
And then she stood. What should have been atrophied legs were instead perfectly toned vessels, allowing her to move with the kind of grace that befitted a ballerina, not a previously bedridden woman who hadn’t walked at all in years. Adelaide knew this should have surprised her, but it didn’t. She took the information in with ease and understanding, as though the moment she awoke, all of this was preordained information. Just another step in some kind of understanding that was embedded in her mind. And why should she mind? She could move. She could jump. Adelaide could dance if she so wished, or she could run out of the door, find her son, and hug him for all she was worth.
She didn’t get the chance before her husband appeared before her in all of his glory. The suit he wore was expertly tailored, expensive, and quite obviously worn for this specific occasion. Alistair always did love dressing himself, especially when it came to grand moments where he could reveal just how smart he was to the world. Everyone always seemed to underestimate him, even when he had the island eating from the palm of his hand.
“Addie,” he stated warmly, the kind of love in his eyes that should have made sense when looking at his wife, but there was something different in that love. It was one born more out of creation than any kind of desire or romance. She should have known then what had happened, but she didn’t. She couldn’t have.
Instead, she raised a smile on her face, the gesture appearing the moment she thought it. “Alistair, how darling it is to see you. I was just on my way to find you. I feel, well, I feel excellent. It’s a miracle, isn’t it?” She had the sudden urge to spin, to prove that her days of being sick were over. That now a new Adelaide had taken hold, one that would never be so fragile or broken again.
Alistair stared back, triumph on his face. “A miracle, yes. Exactly.”
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I know I normally ramble on about MDZS on here but today I’m going to ramble on about Naruto and you guys are my unwilling captives.
So, first things first. Naruto has a lot of nostalgic value to me as I’m sure it does to a lot of other people. And I had a lot of fun watching it which is why I’m now going to enjoy putting it under a microscope. So spoiler warning if people haven’t seen Naruto or Shippuden.
Most of the issues I have with the story are in Shippuden and are compounded by just how good Naruto was setting up to be early on but I do have some issues with the first part as well.
The handling of Naruto’s and Sasuke’s relationship is one of those things for me. It felt very… forced? Or rushed? To me? I could see the progression of Naruto beginning to grow fond of Sasuke and building a rapport with him but at no point did I understand or relate to what drove Naruto to have such an attachment to him.
And maybe that’s just because I was never Sasuke’s biggest fan. I could be (probably am) biased. But the only way I can make sense of it in my mind is just by chalking it up to Naruto’s complete unwillingness to give up on anyone—not Sasuke specifically. And maybe also the result of some attachment issues on Naruto’s part.
(Though I would have payed to see what it would have looked like if Naruto was forced to give up on Sasuke or forced to kill him and how that would have affected him. A lot of missed opportunities there.)
Ironically though most of the things I like about the Naruto series are the things Shippuden threw out the window by the end.
I really like a lot of the fight scenes in Naruto because more than anything else they had to be clever when they fought and constantly deceive their opponent. It felt like a fight between ninja because they constantly had to be two steps ahead of their opponent. Zabuza vs. Kakashi and briefly against Sasuke and Naruto kept me on the edge of my seat because I never knew what was coming. I rewatched Shikamaru’s fights more than anyone else’s in the series because it was utterly fascinating to watch him play 3D chess with an opponent that was more often than not still on checkers. Every move was thought out and every battle a mind game.
By the end of Shippuden most of the fights were boiled down to ‘throw bigger chakra blasts at each other’. And make no mistake, I cheered as hard as anyone else when I was swept up in the moment. But I’ve also never thought about those fights ever again because there was nothing mentally stimulating enough to make me go back to them.
The beginning of Naruto was about impressing how harsh the reality of being a shinobi was against Naruto’s more idealistic view. It was Naruto having to accept the truth of his life while still holding onto his convictions. It was Naruto seeing how the ninja world broke people—Haku seeing himself as a tool; Tsunade, despite being one of the greatest ninja’s and healers to live, off drinking and gambling with a crippling fear of blood because everyone she loved died; Neji being oppressed by his own clan; Naruto and Gaara suffering as their villages’ biggest secret and weapon—and becoming determined to fix it. Naruto and his ideals were always constantly being challenged just be virtue of how the shinobi system worked.
And it was great to watch! The set up was all there. And yet a lot of what should have been big pay offs never really came through or had satisfying conclusions by the end of the series—instead focusing on Naruto’s relationship with Sasuke. Outside of some flashbacks the internal strife of the Hyuuga is never brought up again. Naruto gets a cop out for achieving world peace because the Nations need to unite anyway against a common enemy. Naruto and Gaara’s friendship is one of the best things in the series honestly though I do wish they got more time to just, idk, hang out.
And I’ll be honest, Naruto was interesting because nothing about their lives was ever really as clean and simple as Naruto seemed to think it was at first. In the first part the biggest overarching enemy was always the shinobi system and how it effected individuals. And then that all gets brushed away in favor of bullshit chakra goddess to never really be addressed again? Boo. Boring.
I dislike how Naruto and Kurama’s relationship was built even though deeply I enjoyed watching their partnership. Most of Naruto’s interactions with Kurama consisted of him either demanding or taking his power (and Kurama trying to manipulate him in turn) aside from, what, Naruto throwing out one line about helping Kurama someday? Wtf. I would’ve told Naruto to go fuck himself.
Naruto showed Kurama basic empathy once and Kurama’s down to be nice after a whole flashback about how humans only want to use him? As Naruto uses Kurama’s chakra—that he took by force and without permission? What, no. In what world does that progression to “mutual” partnership make any sense. There is literally nothing on this earth that could convince me that this makes any kind of sense no matter how fun of a team they make while working together. If anything I think this is just Kurama finally developing Stockholm Syndrome.
I hated the Indra and Ashura plot line for Naruto and Sasuke because it felt like it completely undermined all the blood, sweat, and tears Naruto and Sasuke had to spill to even get the scraps of a relationship they had when they were younger and how hard it was for them to get there.
The chakra goddess plot line was boring and I honestly having else to say about it. I literally fast forwarded through those episodes okay? It just… did nothing for me. I could not have cared less about it.
I hated every romance in that show except Asuma’s and Kurenai’s and I honestly think that’s just because they were shown so little before Asuma died that Kishimoto had next to no way to fuck it up.
Okay, and with that out of the way here’s the things I actually like about Shippuden.
Asuma’s death and how they handled it and Shikamaru’s growth from it was absolutely perfect. It reminded me what I liked so much about Naruto before. It was tragic and heartbreaking and revenge was sweet. And Shikamaru eventually helping Naruto cope with Jiraiya’s death was also really nice touch.
Shikamaru period. He’s one of the characters that got the most development that made sense in the entire show. I was more interested in him than I was in anything else happening in that show honestly. Him realizing the responsibility that came with leading people after becoming a chunin and seeing people get hurt on his orders and vowing to do better—it was perfect. Him looking out for Kurenai after Asuma died and their kid—perfection. Shikamaru’s growth from being unmotivated and uninterested in being a ninja to the competent shinobi we see later is fantastic.
I really liked Sakura’s reintroduction as a competent medic-nin that could punt people through walls until Kishimito fell back into the habit of sidelining her with an occasional side of Bad Decision Making. I was hyped when she was treating Kankuro. Literally vibrating in my seat at the character growth she showed.
I really like the Akatsuki and all it’s colorful members. I could watch a show just about them. I even liked Obito being revealed as a shadow leader even if I thought their entire masterplan was stupid and shouldn’t have existed.
I really liked Pein’s attack on Konoha and how absolutely devastating that would have been if Kishimoto hadn’t been a coward and actually left people dead. I still stand by that even if I was ecstatic to have Kakashi back. If we see them die-die then they should stay dead.
And… yeah. I think that’s everything. And none of my negative points stopped me from finding enjoyment in the series. I had a lot of fun writing this though and of course everyone’s entitled to their own opinion about the show. Things I hated someone else might have loved.
#naruto#naruto shippuden#thank you for coming to my ted talk#i wrote this at 3 in the morning#i think my main problem with shippuden is how many cool concepts it had and failed to execute
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CONTINUED ⇢ @oathofpromises
Ever had it surprised him how attentive the Scions are. Often times, what many women considered normal, X'kijin felt was them getting too close to him, be it a handshake or simply standing next to him. His sense of what was too close was smaller with men, as well as girls nearer the age of his baby sister. Reasonably, he knew that most women meant him no harm, but that rarely stopped him from startling—or panicking, but that was more often an issue of the past than the present, thankfully.
The Scions, however, were another story. There were many women in their ranks. That wasn't something he could change nor should he want to. They'd unravel at the seams if Tataru so much as took a vacation, much less an extended leave because the Warrior of Light was a rampant gynophobiac that could barely stand any of them.
The sound of another pebble reminds him of that. It reminds him of how far he's come, both from the terrified little boy that arrived in Gridania all those years again with a fresh cut across his face to the grown man that would so often say things in fear that sounded like hatred.
When he looks up to seek out who had come out all this way to look for him, despite the celebrations going on, he finds none other than Lyse.
This was a woman he was surprised had never decked him, most especially when she met him back in the Shroud. Then again, that was supposed to be Yda, perhaps Lyse might have. Not that he would have blamed her for it.
Lyse is gentle, almost too understanding when she asks after his departure from the celebration, points out that he seems distracted. When he doesn't answer, locked in debate about whether or not he wants to, she continues.
Gratitude she speaks of, something that bites into his skin like the chakrams at his side. Gratitude, they all keep expressing, but a part of him wants to scream: This is my home.
He wants to scream that they shouldn't be grateful to someone that should want his home freed, much as he did not wish to return. He wants to scream that one of the people he had gotten so used to being around wasn't returning with them.
But he doesn't. As is typical of X'kijin Lyzej, he keeps quiet, keeps to himself, green eyes turning downcast to the lake illuminated by moonlight.
She sits down near him—near enough to suggest there's a conversation to be had, but not so much that it would bring him discomfort. Yet again, the women of the Scions proving gentle and kind in their respect for what most considered to be a silly boundary, at best.
"I managed to grab a couple drinks, if you would like one?"
Such a simple question, one he truly does mean to respond to with a simple answer. He intends to say yes, but what comes out is a confession, one that does little to answer the question he's seen in her eyes a dozen times.
Why doesn't he want to go to Ala Mhigo?
"I'm Ala Mhigan."
He blurts the words out so quickly, he thinks them a dream for a moment, that perhaps he did not say them, that it was a figment dreamt up by a weary mind.
"The X tribe... we're from Ala Mhigo. Some inside the city, some not, but near enough to claim it all the same," he explains, knowing it offered few answers. He loved Gyr Abania, loved Ala Mhigo. What he hated was his tribe, who had turned a blind eye; what he feared was the moment the woman who birthed him heard that he was here, that he helped.
"It's… It's hard to hear, everybody thanking me all the time for helping them, like it's not…" A sigh of frustration slips from his lips. Though X'kijin did not specifically seek to hide his origins from his closest companions, the part he played in it was obvious. He did not speak, did not voice the whys and wherefores.
If there was fault, it was with him, not the people cluelessly thanking him.
"It's just… It's been a lot. So I had to step away from the celebration."
A humorless laugh spills from his lips, then, before he finally says what he meant to: "I'll take that drink."
#✧ ▌ in character : x'kijin lyzej.#oathofpromises#// ooc. IT'S GREAT I HOPE THIS IS AN OKAY REPLY!!#// ooc. was trying to finish it before raid but then basically rewrote the whole thing SO I DIDN'T MAKE IT LMAO
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Built in extra night in between the events of Alea Iacta Est and those of In From the Cold, to give S'ria a moment to process what all has happened that day.
Warnings for discussion of suicide and, of course, 6.0 spoilers (specifically for quests up to Alea Iacta Est).
As much as S'ria did want the refugees to be moved to camp as soon as possible, he was deeply grateful that he could finally end this day early. It was already late at night, even colder, and with little visibility – trekking with these weak and injured individuals should wait until the sun rose again. They were at least able to leave enough ceruleum to keep the heaters running at full blast again, some food, and could begin administering preliminary medical aid immediately.
S'ria being able to just teleport immediately back to Camp Broken Glass and rest was a blessing, though it was unfortunate the aetheryte would not work to transport the people here without attunement first. He'd return in the morning, of course, to see to their safety.
It'd just been… far too long of a day since arriving at Camp Broken Glass, and he was just hoping to fall into some citizen's abandoned bed and pray that his bones hurt less in the morning. G'raha had expressed some sort of very soft-hearted guilt at the idea that those had been people's homes – S'ria could understand the sympathy, but it wasn't as though they were doing anything worse than taking shelter (and even doing some repairs.) Should these villagers return safely someday, they would find their homes intact and none the worse for someone having slept there.
S'ria's anticipation towards having a half decent bed instead of sleeping mere ilms above frozen ground was dwarfed by the relief upon an Ishgardian machinist happily informing him that heating in at least half the buildings had been restored. S'ria was not a religious man, but he wanted to thank at least some higher power for that mercy.
G'raha hovered nervously near him as he got food and began to wind down for the night, as outside began to fully empty except for the night watch, and S'ria began to wonder what additional thing may be occupying him. S'ria finally placed it as “uncertainty” and smiled at how simple and mundane of an issue that was compared to everything else today.
“That sleeping arrangement from the tents is still an option, if that's what you're dwelling on.”
G'raha startled. “Wicked white, was it that obvious? I – with the heaters working, I did not wish to assume...”
“The heating will keep me from freezing, but all things considered, I'd like to be warm.”
G'raha finally relaxed his shoulders. “Full glad am I to donate my services as a space heater, then.”
Huddling by the fire was so cozy that S'ria almost didn't want to brave the cold journey to travel inside and wait for the room to warm up. Still, it was necessary.
The building they'd been directed to was a tiny two-room place, with a warm fire burning in the hearth – as well as two twins flopped across a couch and one Thancred occupying the floor. S'ria had more than a light enough step to sneak past, but G'raha luckily managed to avoid disturbing them as well.
The bedroom was (predictably but unfortunately) barely warmed by the fire in the other room. S'ria turned on the ceruleum heater in there immediately, huddling on the floor by it and waiting for the warmth to begin radiating. G'raha sat down next to him, weathering the short wait together.
“I am sorry. While none of it has been firsthand from your mouth, all I've heard sounds as though today has been… very unkind to you.”
S'ria made a noncommittal noise of acknowledgement and leaned into G'raha's shoulder, sitting in silence for some time longer.
Eventually S'ria turned towards him, cupping his face in gloved hands. He tried not to let his body's shivering shake G'raha as well.
“Is it okay for me to…? I-I don't want it to go anywhere, though.”
G'raha closed his eyes in an affectionate blink. “‘Tis always okay – and it does not have to.”
S'ria relaxed and leaned to kiss him, G'raha's lips feeling just slightly warmer than his own. S'ria had always thought he ran a bit cooler than the average person, but it was nice to have proof. It was a pleasant enough way to occupy himself while he waited for the heater to fully kick on, the layers they both still wore a comfortable barrier for S'ria. A part of him worried about this, kissing G'raha somewhat less than chastely with the intent to crawl into bed together after – but he did trust G'raha.
(And besides, should that trust ever be shattered, Thancred was a light sleeper.)
S'ria pulled away and the room was finally warm. He stripped out of his boots and coat and crawled into the bed. The sheets were still cold, but that should hopefully pass quickly. He zoned out for a short while until his reverie was broken by the feel of the bed dipping under G'raha's weight. There was a very brief moment of panic at that sensation. Pulling G'raha against his chest, though, reminding his senses that none of the scents are right for whatever was scaring him – S'ria was able to get past the worst of that feeling.
S'ria was very exhausted, the fear he'd just felt was mostly abated, and the warmth of molding himself to G'raha's back was settling in… and yet, sleep felt malms away. His heartbeat just wouldn't quite settle – not pounding but never reaching calm – and he wondered if G'raha could feel it against his spine. Despite just finally getting warm, he had the twitchiest impulse to go run laps around camp before trying to lie down again. He made an effort to stay still for a while, before G'raha spoke up.
“You are…still awake. Is there aught that I can do?”
S'ria flinched as if he'd been caught. “Am I keeping you up? My mind is just a bit busy.”
“I would not be surprised, today seemed painful for you.”
S'ria chuckled humorlessly. “You'd think it'd be one of the worse things eating at me but, no – it's about Quintus… I want to feel glad that he's dead, but I don't.”
“If you feel the urge to mourn him or simply just do not rejoice in his death – there is nothing wrong with that.”
S'ria stilled and then slowly shook his head, ruffling the back of G'raha's hair with the movement. “That's…not the way I mean it. I fear I may be a much worse person than you are assuming.”
“I very highly doubt any of your thoughts will lead me to that conclusion – but you may speak, if you'd like me to confirm or deny that judgment?”
S'ria's arms tightened around G'raha's chest. He was silent in hesitation for a while, but once the words began to flow, they did so unimpeded.
“I'm not upset that Quintus committed suicide, I'm angry at him for why he did. The things Garlean soldiers do, once the dust has settled and the adrenaline and powertrip is still in their system – that is indignity and humiliation, not whatever he was experiencing.” S'ria made a conscious effort to relax instead of squeezing G'raha too hard and continued.
“And to receive the barest hint of that which he's inflicted, a far kinder truce than they've ever offered, that's too much? His damn pride couldn't take even that? He spoke of collaring me and dared to make this about dignity?” The words were spat out and S'ria could feel a brief anger ripple through G'raha's frame as S'ria mentioned the collars. It made him feel just the tiniest bit validated. “I need to live with my shame, have remained alive despite the suffering of it all, and then–then he thinks it's all well and good to die at the first hint of – !”
S'ria made an uncomfortable wheezy exhale, drastically lowering his voice before he could wake someone. “See? It's bad.”
G'raha brought his arms up to lay his hands over S'ria's, taking some time to consider his response.
“None of that makes you a bad person. It is unfair, all of it – and your thoughts alone can hardly do any harm just from thinking them either.” He gently squeezed S'ria's hands and added, quietly, “and I'm very glad that you've remained alive.”
Whatever response G'raha might have received died under the weight of that near-desperate addition. S'ria curled more closely around G'raha's back, shifting to press his face into his neck. The first hitching sob was muffled into fabric, as were the next few, but it was impossible to mistake the sound for anything else. S'ria wanted to be doing almost anything except starting to cry while cuddled up against G'raha. If he drew away, though, G'raha could look at him in the dim lighting, and that would be too much. If he stayed like this, hiding his face, maybe they could both pretend it wasn't happening.
The worst part was that it felt good despite it all. Much-needed, if nothing else. The bitterness and anger quickly burned off of him for at least a time. Nearly the same moment the tears finally tapered off, S'ria fell into a restful and dreamless sleep.
#ffxiv-oc#snow-system#ffxiv oc#writing#ffxiv-reactions#give S'ria ONE MOMENT to exist first#let him sleep in an actual bed and have a cathartic cry#it ain't much but it's something#i have many thoughts about this conversation
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You Made Her Shine
Summary: The reader is having issues internally dealing with her past truamas. One specific person decides to go on air and twist a story for his liking. Stephen does not approve of this message. Reader is 34 and Stephen is 44-45. Based after Endgame, before NWH
Part Two here!!
Word Count: 2,020
Warnings: Angst, childhood trauma (absent father, maturing young), Fluff at the end, i think thats it?
A/N: This was something i had to put together. Writing is therapeutic, and i can help myself release these emotions in a safe space. This origin is slightly based on my childhood (not 100% of it is true), but just enough for me to see a part of myself in it. Also, the gif used was created by @cumberbatchlives as per the credit in the bottom left.
Father's day weekend wasn't always her favorite time of the year. There was nothing against the time of year or anything. It was just a simple reminder to the woman that she missed out on so many different life lessons from having an absent father. It was something she struggled with internal, keeping it from the people in her immediate life. So when her biological father was seen doing an interview about her, she watched it with seething rage for him.
"So, what was it like to raise, Y/n? She's a superhero, having been found responsible for saving lives in New York three years back and then being a part of the Avengers to defeat Thanos! That must be remarkable." The woman interviewing him was doing her job, and Y/n understood. What she couldn't understand was why he looked so damn proud, sitting on a couch and wearing a suit. It looked expensive, worth a lot of money.
"Where to begin?" The man chuckled. "Y/n was the apple of my eye-"
"Was?" The interviewer asked.
The man chuckled, pulling at his collar. "Life comes with different stages. When she was little, we were inseparable. After she turned eleven, she became her mother's daughter. They were two peas in a pod, joined together at the hip." He spoke, grinning the whole time. "Not many people get to say that their daughter is an Avenger, working fighting alongside Kings, Gods, and super soldiers. I wish there was footage of the fight against Thanos so I can point her out. I can say, Hey that's my daughter."
"Yeah, you would like, wouldn't you?" The woman whispered to herself, watching the screen intently.
That was when Stephen walked by, seeing her watching the interview. Her right leg was bouncing, her fingers interlocked together tightly as she sat on the edge of her seat. He knew something was wrong. He looked to the screen, seeing his name in a banner below his image. Rick Swann, that was his name. The woman dropped his name long before he could ever remember, picking up her mother's last name while still attending grade school. He watched as the station played videos of Y/n saving people from debris, collecting children who were separated from their families, and fighting the bad guys. He could see the resemblance between the two of you, nothing more than your hair and eye color. Just enough for a logical guess.
"Mr. Swann, tell us, how did you feel when Y/n contacted you after the fight? Certainly, the both of you checked on each other."
There was a slight twinge in the man's neck, but he played it off by running his hand across it. "I called her, and we cried. It had been so long since I heard her voice. I told her how much I loved her, and how proud I am to be her father."
"LIAR!" The woman yelled, standing up and throwing the remote across the room. She worked herself up a little bit, waving her hands in front of her to turn the television off using her mystic arts training.
Stephen stepped into the room, holding his hands out in front of him. "I don't think the remote deserved that." He replied, getting her attention.
The woman turned around, seeing Stephen dressed in his comfortable clothing. It was a nice change of pace from his Masters Robes. She looked at him for a few moments before turning her face to the side, relaxing her shoulders as she slowed her breathing down. "I'm sorry."
Stephen watched her as she tried to calm down, sensing there was more to the story. "No need to be." His voice was calming, something that the woman loved about him. He was a gentle giant in her eyes. He could do wrong, nobody was without imperfections, but Stephen's soul was unique. "What was that about?"
She looked at him again, watching as he walked over to where she had been, appearing interested in her outburst. She took a step to the side, sitting back down on the couch, giving him room to sit as well. She rubbed her hands together, trying to figure out the best way to start her story. "I don't know how much of that you saw."
Stephen sat down next to her, tucking one leg under him. His right foot rested under his left knee as his left hand reached down to rest on his right calf. "What I saw was somebody struggling to tell the truth."
The woman met his eyes, her normal light-hearted and enthusiastic stare was now one of gloom and hatred. They were wet as if he interrupted her from crying. "That's an understatement." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"You can tell me if you want."
She knew Stephen wasn't the type to demand information from his friends or the ones he cares about. He was much more relaxed than the man who was on the screen minutes before. She shook her head, her eyes darting down quickly before catching his again. "The man is promoting himself as a loving, caring father. A father who was honored to have their daughter fight to save the world, be known as a public figure for helping the innocent."
Stephen nodded slowly, his right arm resting on the back of the couch near her shoulder, and his thumb and index finger reached out to rub the fabric of her jacket. A soothing gesture to help her relax. She appreciated it, he could tell when her eyebrows began to relax from their once pursed expression. "But?"
"But he never was." She responded, almost defeatedly. "He never cared about me. He never cared about my mother or my brother. He was always at the office, pinning the next intern who entered his office. He only showed up to events where he would look good if it was known I was his daughter. Award ceremonies, championship volleyball games, my high school graduation, and my college graduation. He didn't live with us. He had an apartment-" She exhaled deeply, feeling frustrated that she had to explain to Stephen something that she never worked through herself. She looked down again, her eyes clenching shut as she tried to keep her composure.
Stephen gave her the time to gather her thoughts back. How he wished he could change those memories for her, or find her quicker in life so she may not have always focused on the pain.
Y/n continued on. "He was the first man to break my heart. My heart broke years before I even realized what happened. I lived with the guilt that I wasn't a good enough daughter for him. I thought that I was an embarrassment. I never saw him much growing up outside of major events. Even then, I didn't see him for long. I was there for my brother growing up. I took him to get his tuxes for his events." She laughed a little, recalling a memory. "I made a dinner for him and his prom date, both years. I set up our patio and decorated it, giving him and his date a special memory to have. I taught him how to tie his tie. I taught him how to ride a bike. I took him out for driving lessons on the weekends." Then the regret set in again. How much it hurt to have to grow up so young and help her mother raise her baby brother.
Stephen watched her as she rolled through the emotions. "Y/n, I'm so sorry. I never knew-"
"I never wanted anybody to know," somberly she admitted. She looked back up at him, the tears welling in her eyes. "I thought that the fight to bring everybody back was going to be my biggest fight. It will never compare to how I fight every day with myself to never make somebody else feel the way he made me feel." She was truly broken, beyond what she ever thought was possible. "He waited until my brother was dead to say those things. He knows that if he was around now, that interview would have never happened." She began to cry, placing her hands in front of her face, and beginning to lean forward.
Stephan caught her, wrapping his arms around her. He loved Y/n so much, having developed quite a relationship with her before he disappeared in the blip. She met him shortly after he became the new Guardian of New York and the sorcerer supreme. He helped to train her, and she taught him so much more about getting a second chance, so much more about life. From everything he knew about her, he would have never imagined her start in life was so broken. "It's okay now. I've got you." He whispered in her ear, pressing a quick kiss to her temple.
"It's not fair. He broke my mother's heart and gave her money to raise us instead of owning up to his responsibilities. Why marry her when he never loved her? Why have kids when he was never going to commit?" She asked him, resting in his tender embrace.
Stephen held her, rubbing circles into her back as she found comfort in his arms. "I wish I could tell you, Y/n. I wish I could have been there, but we both know we can't change the past. For whatever, messed up reason, you were meant to live through that. But look at you now! You're a master of the mystic arts! You saved billions of lives from mass genocide. And, you have me now."
The woman pulled her head back, looking into his eyes. He never had to remind her of her accomplishments. He never once had to speak about her achievements. None of that mattered to her. What he did say that mattered to her though? She had him. There was no fault in his voice, no twinge of muscle or tendon, no need to pull on his collar. He was certain, his body language reassuring her. But it wasn't enough to be sure. "What if you meet somebody better?"
Stephen looked at her, bringing one hand up to wipe the tears that fell from her face. "I have met better. I met you. I met you when you were at your worse, and you still didn't act like you were the world's most pitiful human being. You care for those around you. For some reason, you decided to care for me."
The woman searched his face, feeling all the negative emotions leave her body and allowing for all the love he was giving her to take over her thoughts. "I love you, Stephen Strange. Please don't leave me."
Stephen pressed another kiss to her forehead, his lips then trailing down to kiss the tip of her nose. "I would never want to leave you, Y/n." His reply caused her to cry again, this time in happiness. He was angry with the man who was on the screen, angry that he acted the way he did. But if it weren't for his actions, he would never have Y/n as his person. "I think that we should go out tonight." He suggested.
She sniffled a little before looking at him again. "Really?"
Stephen nodded. "Yes, well, the world is saved again. The population was brought back, thanks to you and your thinking with the other Avengers. We haven't had a proper date night since the fight. I'll pull out one of my expensive suits too, nothing like the fake trash he was wearing."
Y/n licked her bottom lip, nodding to everything he had to say. "Yeah, a date sounds good." She loved the thought of seeing him in his suits, knowing he had a preference for Armani. She loved him in his casual clothes too, like the ones he was currently wearing. But to be able to dress up in one of her dresses to show off how soft and delicate she could be was a nice feeling too. "Thank you, Stephen, for everything."
"Thank you, for trusting me."
#stephen strange#stephen strange x reader#stephen strange x y/n#doctor strange#doctor strange x reader#doctor strange x y/n#marvel
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IC Persona Chart Observations
Venus in the 12th - What you found pleasurable, toys, video games, plushies, etc may have been harder to access compared to other kids. There was less venusian energy, thus possibly less pretty homelife, parents had marriage issues, money issues, and/or one or more parent was more strict/protective when it came to you dating. Another way this could turn out is parents showing less 'lovey dovey' moments
Jupiter in the 6th - Can show someone who had a lot of pets. If not all at once then they had a good amount over the course of their childhood
Planets in the 12th - These show what planets qualities were more absent at home than the other planets. Uranus, personal freedom/independence, technology, no friends over to hang out, etc. Mars, more uncommon fights, aggression, competition, energy, pests etc and so on
Planets in 12th - Can also show a parent who used some sort of escapism. Drinking, smoking, drugs, etc
Jupiter in the 3rd - Can show religious people going to church sometimes
Between siblings charts - You can easily tell which one possibly got more attention or had an easier time coping with their childhood. I looked at a friend of mines chart and their siblings + mine. I just saw the pattern and ended up noting this here
Jupiter in the 9th - Have seen this make someone go on a lot of trips and travel during childhood. For some families this can show religion being important
Uranus in the 12th - Specifically I've seen it be alcoholic females. My mom has this and her moms an alcoholic, my moms sister has this as well. I've also read up on it awhile back somehow on the internet, not sure where unfortunately
Wherever lilith is - Shows where you wish to be independent or free but had some sort of restriction or problems. Typically I've seen wherever lilith is placed it creates a negative effect. SIGNS ARE IMPORTANT TOO
1st House - wanting to express yourself, self-esteem issues, want to be energetic/playful a lot more, physical attention (ex: hugs), wanting to go to a playground to play
2nd House - Wanting to spend money, wanting toys/pleasures that you liked, finance issues, wanting to eat more but couldn't for whatever reason, weed problems and/or grass and plant issues in the yard (if you live in a city and had plant pots then possibly some type of issues with keeping them alive and etc)
3rd House - Sibling relationship was messy or changed often, can show a step sibling, parents could have yelled at each other so communication was stiff, a household where you might have been hushed more often from playing too loud. Being scolded if you didn't get good grades in school, maybe even having things taken away and restricted if you didn't try hard enough in acedemics. 3rd also rules younger siblings (if I can remember correctly) so maybe their was something up with the connection if you have them or the younger sibling has restricted you in someway (EX: you had to babysit them often and could never find time for yourself - EX2: Everytime you tried to tell your parents what your sibling did wrong they would gasp and be like "our baby?? Be nicer to them" and stuff like that!)
4th House - Home life might've been reckless in someway. Mother could have been made inferior or she had to stand her ground in some way. This aspect overall seems to create a home with issues or a mess from what I've noticed. Having to speak up or stand your ground to be heard by the parents can show here too
5th House - Getting to play or do simple fun things was possibly difficult at times. Being interested in the occult things and mystical side of life when young. Having crushes you were hardcore drawn to. Couldn't express your feminine side at times and might have had to become more serious/masculine every now and again
6th House - Some people here possibly had a guard dog that's job was to protect rather than be a lap dog 24/7. This can indicate having a pet on a chain or in a cage more often for different reasons. Self-esteem issues on body can also be seen here. You probably know what it's like to see people ill as well, which is why you stand up for them. This placement sometimes shows in the charts of those who actually had to fight an illness or got sick easier (Also a family member could have since this is the IC) Warning//Violence -> can also indicate animal abuse if it's harshly aspected by certain planets and the person had an animals.
7th House - Some people with this aspect have divorced parents or at least parents with a lot of marriage issues. You saw what a bad marriage looked like at least at some point. If you got into relationships in teen years there could have been a bit of issues related to them. The rulers placement of this house can really dictate what kind of relationships. Some could have wanted to try makeup but weren't aloud. Since this is a Venusian house I'd say things related to pleasures of life might have been harder to get in some way or you might have had to fight just to get a certain object that a parent said "no" to
8th House - People with this placement could have experienced death young. It doesn't matter by what (pets, family, friends, car accidents etc) also people here wanted to be free in life, they may have felt as though like was always throwing obstacles and issues one after another (Pluto being powerful changes) whatever sign is in the house is what could have changes a lot in childhood. Possibility of wanting to express their sexuality, especially in teen years, but we're restricted. May have wanted to dabble in the occult side of life but someone didn't approve. This is all I can think of for this house as of rn
9th House - Didn't travel as much when they were younger. Maybe they wanted to go to the park but were not aloud. This house is a positive house, these kids could have been restricted from rough housing and playing around loudly etc. Religion wasn't their choice, if their parents had a different religion than them, then their parents disagreed with theirs. Sometimes some of these kids wanted to date someone from a different ethnicity and they weren't aloud by someone or maybe tradition. If they wanted to go to college then the couldn't study what they truly wanted or they couldn't at all for different reasons. Very rarely this could mean someone's was born into a different culture and moved to another country that didn't speak their language or do their tradition so they felt like outsiders or restricted. If these people studied random topics and spoke about some of them then they could have been talked down to or told they were wrong by someone in the family
10th House - Be restricted from acting as you want in public. Parents may have scolded you in public for not acting 'proper' or something. You couldn't express yourself freely at times. A parent could have been too stern or serious so the feeling of restrictions came from this or not being able to be as free from the energy. Parents could have worked often and you felt as though they were only tied to their job rather than family/support. If someone's famous then they would feel restricted because they can't go out with their famous parents often or something because of the public eye. Homelife gave a feeling of work and no play at times
11th House - Wanting to protest was restricted. If you are apart of the LGBTQ+ in childhood then it wasn't supported by the parents or someone in the family. Some people with this placement had bedtimes or were restricted from being on their electronics too much. Some people here didn't have as many electronics as others. If you wanted to be in certain groups of friends then their was some blockages, thus being "that group of people look immature, go to the other one" and etc. If some people have an older brother or step brother then some here couldn't see them often or if they could then the connection or relationship was a bit off or stagnant. Actually the older brother could have been the one restricted you on 11th House stuff! This House can rule finances too so money also may have been low or you couldn't spend it often
12th House - Being restricted from sleeping in when you wanted to. (Since you were young probably school days off lol) you could have had parents that were the ones to say "just a cut? Ohh you're alright" and look at things as less than what they are, therefor not taking you to the hospital when you thought you needed to go. Parents probably didn't put any importance to mental health. Feeling restricted to your own mind, thoughts. Now there is literally a 0 to 100 here, you could have either been super lonely and felt restricted to that side or you could have been the opposite where the parents made you socialize or you never got a break so you wanted alone time but never got it as often! Sometimes this placement can show not being able to do artistic thing but wanting to (EX: You: "Hey mom can I join the school band?" // Her: "no") feeling restricted to karma or basically "ongoing bad luck" is how a kid would probably describe it. Occasionally this shows people who were bed bound in hospitals or just really sick/Ill and they felt restricted in that way. Feeling at the hands of the universe, nothing in your control (kinda like an 8th House influence too!)
Saturn opposite Mercury - Speech from the father figure was strict or serious from what you saw often. Father also had some sort of effect on your communication skills/style
Moon opposite Pluto - Mother was irrational and had mood changes often most likely. This can show a difficult relationship with the mother from what I've noticed
Lilith harsh aspects to Moon/Saturn - if you had a bad relationship with one or both of the parents then this aspect could've made you want revenge at some point
Lilith opposite moon - possibility of showing a feminist mother or your emotions were very much in your own path per say
Saturn in 4th - strict, serious, traditional father and home
Lilith positive aspects to Moon/Saturn - If you had a bad relationship with one or both of the parents then this aspect can show you growing a rebellious quality about yourself. Liliths house will tell you what quality. This aspect can make you more independent
Sun/Moon/Rising - Can show a lot about how you acted and were in childhood. This can also be how your parents tended to view you and you appeared to your siblings. (EX: Capricorn Sun, Gemini Moon, Libra Ascendant - Attractive kid, hardworking, smart, easy to get along with, moody sometimes, funny, serious/respectful // Aquarius Sun, Aquarius Moon, Aries Ascendant - Unconventional, quiet but energetic at times, made a ruckus, standing up for what's right, black sheep, distant in some way, quirky ETC)
Aries/Mars in 1st - If in good tides indicate an energetic child or parent(s) which could have been into fitness or were competitive. If in bad tides then this indicates a parent who could have been quite aggressive and home life was basically like a "war" per say, a overlly assertive parent or parents probably yelled often. Doesn't matter if it was at eachother or at you. Oh also if in bad tides this can show bugs/mice/pests that may have came in from time to time
Very specific
Jupiter in the 6th opposite venus which sits in the 12th - is in friends chart and I found out they found comfort in their animals. Their animals gave them healing if they couldn't get it at times! Interesting but bittersweet aspect 😯 so this peaks my theory-
Venus opposite a planet - possibly shows where you found comfort. Venus = comfort -> (planet in it's house) = what it was that gave us it (EX - Venus opposite from mars, with mars being in the 5th can show feeling comfort from dancing, playing sports, letting all your creative energy flow when you could etc) take the zodiac sign into account to tho! 👀
In siblings charts - I have seen patterns for sure. Like an example is one had neptune in the 2nd house alone and the other had their neptune in the 2nd alone
Sun conjunct Mercury - something was loud. Positive or a negative outcome depends on the person. Also house/sign will show what it was that was loud or something along those lines (EX - 3rd = Siblings, you while communicating with siblings or family, you in school // 4th = homelife, parents, relatives, mom (however it's sun conjunct Mercury not moon so actually your dad could be the loud one or both!, put it how it resonates!)
Chirons placement - of course, as usual, shows where we had issues- struggles- wounds in childhood. Can actually show where some people's trauma could have started at. For this I won't elaborate much, since it's quite simple, I will say that looking up chiron through the houses gives a straight up answer. I even checked a few charts just to make sure it still added up. Sooooo have fun! 👈😏👈
Moon opposite Neptune - I've seen a persons mom neglect them when they were young. Their mom was also an "escapist"
Chiron in the 6th - Okok I know I said I wasn't gonna explain much on Chiron because there's really nothing more to explain that's not out there. However I have seen Chiron in the 6th take the route of someone who had to be responsible for a lot in childhood. Like taking care of people, doing household chores, work and etc more often than others. Having to grow up fast in a way 🥺
Saturn opposite Sun - *traditional stereotypical dad noises* in a good way (unless it's in bad tides of course 👀)
Ceres opposite/positively aspecting Saturn (sometimes Sun) - finding comfort from the dad figure. Good relationship
Ceres opposite/positively aspecting moon - finding comfort from the mom figure. Good relationship too!
Mercury in the 5th - could have enjoyed writing, been good at liberal arts in school. Witty kid when given the chance. Singing could have been a talent or hobby. Same with just driving to town or the park, simple but a good pass time
Vertex in the 8th - has prominently shown up in the charts of people who had instability in some way in childhood. Ongoing changes, rough times etc. It's quite sad but it's there to help you grow!
Neptune in the 1st - can feel alone in childhood at some point. Like studying abroad, fending for themselves. It can vary
#astrology#zodiac#all zodiac signs#astro community#astrology observations#astro notes#astroblr#astrology community#astro observations#astrology notes#persona charts#persona chart#astro chart#astrology chart
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So I'm currently unemployed because I got fired for taking too much sick leave (it was legally sketchy blah blah blah but in the end I just can't work and take care of myself and investigate my mystery health problems at the same time). So I've been spending more time writing!
I really admire your writing and loved Hunger Pangs. I'm looking forward to the poly elements developing and I'm wondering if you have any advice for writing about poly. I've made one of my projects a snarky take on "write what you know" ... Apparently what I know is southern gothic meets Pacific northwest gothic, chronic illness pandemic surrealism, and falling back-asswards into threesomes.
I know this is a very open-ended question and I don't expect an answer, I'm just curious about it if you have the energy. As a writer, trying to write honestly / realistically about polyamory/enm, I'm curious if you have any thoughts on what's different about portraying monogamy or nonmonogamy in books, romance or erotica or otherwise.
I'm trying to read examples but it's hard to find examples that fit the niche I'm looking at. Excuse me if this question is nonsense, it's the cluster headaches.
I'm sorry to hear you've been dealing with all that and solidarity on the cluster headaches. But I'm glad you're finding an outlet through writing! And I hope you're happy with an open-ended ramble in response because oh boy, there's a lot I could talk about and I could probably do a better job of answering this sort of thing with more specific questions, but let's see where we end up.
There's definitely a big difference between writing polyamory/ENM (ethical non-monogamy) and what people often expect from monogamous love stories.
Just even from a purely sales and marketing standpoint, the moment you write anything polyamorous (or even just straight up LGBTQIA+ without the ENM) you're going to get considered closer to being erotica/obscene than hetero romances. It's an unfair bias, but it's one that exists in our society. But also the Amazon algorithm and their shitty, shitty human censors. Especially the ones that work the weekends. (Talking to you, Carlos 🖕.)
So not only do you start out hyper-aware that you're writing something that is highly stigmatized or fetishized (at least I'm hyper-aware) but that you are also writing for a niche market that is starving for positive content because the content that exists is either limited, not what they want, or is problematic in some fashion i.e. highly stigmatized or fetishy. And even then, the wants, desires, and expectations of the community you're writing for are complex and wildly varied and hard to fit into an easy formula.
When writing monogamous love stories, there is a set expectation that’s really hard to fuck up once you know it. X person meets Y. Attraction happens, followed by some sort of minor conflict/resolution. Other plot may happen. A greater catalyst involving personal growth for both parties (hopefully) happens. Follow the equation to its ultimate resolution and achieve Happily Ever After.
But writing ENM is... a lot more difficult, if only because of the pure scope of possibilities. You could try to follow the same equation and shove three (or more) people into it, but it rarely works well. Usually because if you’re doing it right, you won’t have enough room in a single character arc to allow for enough growth, and if ENM requires anything in abundance, it’s room to grow.
And this post is huge so I’m going to put the rest under a cut :)
There's also a common refrain in certain online polyam/ENM circles that triads and throuples are overrepresented in media and they may be right to some extent. Personally, I believe the issue isn't that triads and throuples are overrepresented, but that there is such minuscule positive rep of ethical non-monogamy in general, that the few tiny instances we have of triads in media make it seem like it's "everywhere" when in actuality, it's still quite rare and the media we do have often veers into Unicorn Hunter fetish porn. Which is its own problematic thing. And just to be clear, I’m not including this part to dissuade you from writing "falling back-asswards into threesomes." If anything, I need more of it and would hook it directly into my brain if I could. I'm just throwing it out there into the void in the hope that someone will take the thought and run with it, lol.
I’d love to see more polyfidelitous rep in fiction, just as much as I’d like to see more relationship anarchy too. More diversity in fiction is always good.
Another thing that differs in writing ENM romance vs conventional monogamy is the feeling like you need to justify yourself. There's a lot of pressure to be as healthy and non-problematic as possible because you are being held to a higher standard of criticism. Both from people from without the ENM communities, and from the people within. Granted, some people don't give a shit and just want to read some fantastic porn (valid) but there are those who will cheerfully read Fifty Shades of Bullshit and call it "spicy" and "romantic," then turn around and call the most tooth-rottingly-sweet-fluff about a queer platonic polycule heresy. That's just the way the world works.
(Pro-tip for author life in general: never read your own reviews; that way madness lies. I glimpsed one the other day that tagged Hunger Pangs as “ethical cheating” and just about had an aneurism.)
And while that feeling of needing to justify yourself comes from a valid place of being excluded from the table of socially accepted norms, it can also be to the detriment of both the story and the subject matter at hand. I've seen some authors bend so far over backward to avoid being problematic in their portrayal of ENM, they end up being problematic for entirely different reasons. Usually because they give such a skewed, rose-tinted perspective of how things work, it ends up coming off as well... a bit culty and obnoxious tbh.
“Look how enlightened we are, freed from the trappings of monogamy and jealousy! We’re all so honest and perfect and happy!”
Yeah, uhu, sure Jan. Except here’s the thing, not all jealousy is bad. How you act on it can be, but jealousy itself is an important tool in the junk drawer that is the range of human emotion. It can clue us in to when we’re feeling sad or neglected, which in turn means we should figure out why we’re feeling those things. Sometimes it’s because brains are just like that and anxiety is a thing. Other times it’s because our needs are actually being neglected and we are in an unhealthy situation we need to remedy. You gotta put the work in to figure it out. Which is the same as any style of relationship, whether it’s mono, polyam or whatever flavor of ENM you subscribe to* And sometimes you just gotta be messy, because that’s how humans are. Being afraid to show that mess makes it a dishonest portrayal, and it also robs you of some great cannon fodder for character development.
Which brings me in a roundabout way to my current pet peeve in how certain writers take monogamous ideals and apply them to ENM, sometimes without even realizing it. The “Find the Right Person and Settle Down” trope.
Often, in this case, ENM or polyamory is treated as a phase. Something you mature out of with age or until you meet “The One(tm).” This is, of course, an attempt to follow the mono style formula expected in most romances. And while it might appeal to many readers, it’s uh, actually quite insulting.
To give an example, I am currently seeing this a lot in the Witcher fandom.
Fanon Netflix!Jaskier is everyone's favorite ethical slut until he meets Geralt then woops, wouldn’t you know, he just needed to find The One(tm). Suddenly, all his other sexual and romantic exploits or attractions mean nothing to him. Let's watch as he throws away a core aspect of his personality in favor of a man.
Yeah... that sure showed those societal norms...
If I were being generous, I’d say it’s a poor attempt at showing New Relationship Euphoria and how wrapped up people can become in new relationships. But honestly, it’s monogamous bias eking its way in to validate how special and unique the relationship is. Because sometimes people really can’t think of any other way to show how important and valid a relationship is without defining it in terms of exclusivity. Which is a fundamental misunderstanding of how ENM works for a lot of people and invalidates a lot of loving, serious and long-term relationships.
This is not to say that some polyam/poly-leaning people can't be happy in monogamous relationships! I am! (I consider myself ambiamorous. I'm happy with either monogamy or polyamory, it really just depends on the relationship(s) I’m in.) But I also don't regard my relationship with a mono partner as "settling down" or "growing up." It's just a choice I made to be with a person I love, and it's a valid one. Just like choosing to never close yourself off to multiple relationships is valid. And I wish more people realized that, or rather, I wish the people writing these things knew that :P
Anyway, I think I’ve rambled enough. I hope this collection of incoherent thoughts actually makes some sense and might be useful.
----
*A good resource book that doesn't pull any punches in this regard is Polysecure by Jessica Fern. It's a wonderfully insightful read that explores the messier side of consensual non-monogamy, especially with how it can be affected by trauma or inter-relationship conflicts. But it also shows how to take better steps toward healthy, ethical non-monogamy (a far better job than More Than Two**) and conflict resolution, making it a valuable resource both for someone who is a part of this relationship style***, but also for writers on the outside looking in who might have a very simple or misguided idea of what conflict within polyam/ENM relationships might look like, vs traditional monogamous ones.
** The author of More Than Two has been accused of multiple accounts of abuse within the polyamorous community, with many of his coauthors having spoken out about the gaslighting and emotional and psychological damage they experienced while in a relationship with him. A lot of their stories are documented here: https://www.itrippedonthepolystair.com/ (warning: it is not light material and deals with issues of abuse, gaslighting, and a whole other plethora of Yikes.) While some people still find More Than Two helpful reading, there are now, thankfully, much, much better resources out there.
*** Some people consider polyam/ENM to be part of their identity or orientation, while others view it as a relationship style.It largely depends on the individual.
#long post#writing#ethical non-monogamy#relationship styles#relationship models in fiction#also that kindle link is an affiliate link#because fuck giving amazon free recs
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A Pirate's Life for Me
Cover Art Done By: @fridaydev-draws and @friday-dsv (Dreamsmp x reader) Pirate Au! Love Interests: C!Wilbur, C!Techno, C!Dream, C!Sapnap, C!Quackity, and C!Schlatt
~~~
Salt burned your lungs as you tossed open your window with a loud bang, the seagulls perching on your flower boxes screeched in protest and flew from your window. “Fucking sky rats get the fuck out of here you heathens!” You snarled out the window shaking your fist at the bothersome birds, the sounds of the ocean crashing on the shore filled your ears as well as the chatter of the dock workers. You let the breeze blow back your hair and you heard someone calling your name from down below.
“Good morning (Y/n)!” You glanced below you and grinned,
“Morning Eret!” They waved back enthusiastically their dress spilling around their ankles, a basket of fruit was balanced on his hip. “Opening early today? I'm sure your patrons would be happy to start their drunken stupor early,” She held a hand to his mouth snickering and you shot them a look.
“If that gets more money in my pocket then so be it, I won't complain too much.” You shrugged, “Will I still see you later tonight?”
“Always do dove, how can I resist a drink from my favorite bartender.”
“You can’t it’s my charm.”
“Will the both of you shut the fuck up!” Another man’s voice growled from another open window, “It’s too early for your bullshit.” You saw Eret click his tongue but smiled up at you despite the man's protests,
“I’m heading to the market anyway. These fruits won’t sell themselves, I'll see you later.”
“See you soon!” You closed your windows once more, but not before urging your daisies to grow one last time. You tossed open the curtains allowing light to spill into your cozy home, a small carpet was in the middle of your room. It was a deep red and the pattern was made of gold yarn, aside from that everything in your residency was made of dark wood. Your shelves were littered with books and empty cups, and your old worn journal sat open on your desk. It was filled with childhood memories and you continued to write in it to this day, it was easier then, things were simple and everything was innocent and new to you. Now your days were filled with sea fairing idiots who liked to drink themselves stupid, but you could handle yourself, you always kept your father's dagger on your thigh at all times. Those who were frequent customers knew not to mess with you and those who were new learned their lesson within the first ten minutes of meeting you. You inherited the bar from your father, a kindhearted man who died a few years before today, leaving you with the bar and the dagger you had on your hip. You fished through your closet pulling out your clothes for the day, your dress was a gorgeous light coffee color and came down to your ankles. The bottom was flared and had dark brown panels on the sides, it faded inward to a light green then back to the coffee color. The corset around your waist was a dark brown with light green trim, you tied it tight with a small huff making sure your waist was sinched perfectly. The sleeves came down to your elbows allowing you to move your arms freely while making drinks. The top of the dress ended just below your collarbone, you strapped your dagger to your thigh before lacing up your knee-high black boots.
You thought back to your tavern downstairs, you were fortunate enough that you weren’t running this entire operation yourself. You ended up hiring help and they were like family and you knew they saw you as such as well. Most of the girls didn’t have a family of their own so you gave them room and board, also money, of course, you weren’t a terrible boss! You opened the door to your room, you watched Cecil, the tavern’s mascot trot out of Juniper’s room. The border collie liked to switch up which rooms he stayed in protecting every one of your girls when you couldn’t be there for them.
The first of your girls was Adelaide or Addie, she was one of the first to fall under your care. She was around your age, a motherly type, sheep hybrid, who cared for the girls, and always gave the drunk patrons with mommy issues a shoulder to cry on. Her long brown hair always hung down her back, she typically worked tables, served food and drinks, and always got a generous tip from patrons.
The next girl was Judas, a squid-enderman hybrid who was taller than you could ever wish to be, although intimidating you couldn’t meet a kinder woman. A jack of all trades the woman helped out wherever she could, black-ish purple hair curled around her shoulders and some people came specifically to hear her sing. Her voice was like rich velvet and lured men and women in like a siren.
Juniper was after Judas, a demon hybrid who was naive but you’d be a fool to underestimate her. She worked beside you at the bar, she can make some mean fruity drinks, Eret always preferred her drinks over yours. Freckles adorned her face and shoulders, her light brown hair curled down to her middle back, purple horns sprouted from the top of her head. You wanted to adorn it with gold jewelry and you were saving up to gift some to her.
Yeti was a human woman like yourself, she didn’t bother with those who were rude or obnoxious. She kept to herself only really talking when she was spoken to or when there was an opportunity to crack a rare joke. She typically stayed on the sidelines, out of the scenes and Yeti liked to help Judas decorate her sets.
Zig was a kind young adult, they got along with everyone who came inside the tavern. Soft emerald eyes drew people in, and they tried to make sure tensions within the bar didn’t rise and start a fight. There would always be one or two that’s just natural, but one look at Zig and his magic words and they seemed to disperse, not wanting to hurt the kid’s feelings.
Vendetta was the tallest member of the group you had taken in, she was stunningly beautiful and didn't take shit from anybody. She was a guard dog if you will, making sure no one fucked with any of the girls in your tavern. While Zig did their best to keep people under control sometimes they couldn’t win. That’s when Ven would step in and ‘kindly’ escort them off the premises with or without force.
The youngest member here was Luvena. She was a moo-bloom hybrid with soft brown hair that sprouted flowers, her cow ears would twitch when she was excited and followed Addie around like she was her daughter. Addie took her under her wing and was training her to be a perfect little waitress, absolutely warming customers’ hearts. Luvena also loved to give out flowers, she was a fan favorite bringing new life into the tavern.
Cecil barked seeing his mama and scampered over to you, you poured food into his bowl as Juniper wandered into the hallway. Her head rested on the doorframe as she gave you a tried wave, “Morning (Y/n).”
“Morning Juni, We’re opening a little early today. Take your time I’m not expecting a big rush of bar patrons this early.” You assured her and she gave a sleepy nod,
“I’ll be down as soon as Ven’s out of the shower.” She yawned, “This beauty doesn’t come naturally.”
“Hardly darling you’re gorgeous just the way you are.” You reassured with a wink, Juniper flushed a little, happily laughing beside you.
“Just go wake the others will you, you flirt!”
Tossing your head back you gave a happy laugh heading down the hallway to make sure everyone was awake and ready to go for later. Addie and Luvena shared a room so she was in charge of waking up the youngest member of the tavern. Judas was already awake making breakfast for everyone when you headed downstairs, Zig was sitting on the counter beside her, they were the designated taste tester.
“Good morning Miss (Y/n)!” Zig chirped, the young adult hummed fondly, “Sleep okay?”
“Absolutely. What about you both? Thank you for making breakfast Judas.” You hummed fondly and Judas had a shy smile on her face.
“I slept well thank you.” Judas hummed softly, “Also it’s my pleasure. Want to make sure everyone’s healthy and alright.” She let out a little squeak as you wrapped your arms around her body, you barely came up to her chest,
“Judas please marry me,” You complained, “Your breakfast is always heavenly and you care for everyone. Please be my wife.”
“(Y/n)! Please.” She sputtered face turning a dark purple, Zig made a noise of protest and held his hand in the air.
“If she won’t marry you I will!”
“Zig! I’d be honored!”
Their entire face lit up with excitement and they hopped off the table to hug you tightly, you hugged them back and pressed a fond kiss to the top of their head. “I got to open up the tavern, you mind setting the table for me Zig?”
“Sure Miss!”
You sent Judas a kiss in the air which her face burned at, quickly going back to her cooking. You smiled eagerly and unlocked the door to the tavern, you shoved a bucket in front of the door to keep it open. The salty ocean air wafted through your nostrils and your eyes sparkled wondrously.
Today is going to be a good day.
Almost immediately a particular bastard caught your eye,
“You’re here early.” You mused raising an eyebrow,
“Heard you were opening early today sweetcheeks,” His voice was a low baritone, rough from years of smoking and drinking. Horns curled around his fluffy ears that stood out against his gruff exterior, he was a ram hybrid at its finest. “Figured I’d take the opportunity to get a special drink from my special girl,” He mused looking you up and down drinking in your figure. You scoffed at the retired man, he dressed like he was cosplaying captain jack sparrow, the gun’s in his belt just added to his costume and so did his large ruffled shirt, he was never one to forget his gold jewelry.
“Where’s Quackity?” You ignored him sitting him at his usual table, he frowned but you knew he was taking it as an opportunity to stare at your ass. He slid into the stool and put his feet up on the table, his boots were muddy but you could only control him so much. He was too much of a regular to get scared off by your threats and scolding.
“He’ll be in at his normal time. He’s not much of a day drinker, although can’t say I’m complaining. Having all your attention on me and all, considering I’m the only one in here. That being said, I’ll have my usual sweetcheeks.”
“Stop calling me that,” You scolded with a certain fondness that was reserved for the man. “You’re lucky you’re my favorite regular Schlatt,” you gave his ears a fond pinch and he bleated. He sent you a scalding look as you walked away, although the look soon fell as he got a good look at your ass once again.
“I’m your only regular sugar tits!”
“Schlatt feet off the table.” Addie criticized whacking his boots with a rolled-up menu, he rolled his eyes but dropped his feet to the floor. “You should know this by now, we go through this every day.”
“Yeah, yeah little lamb I’m on it. Judas here?”
“She’s always here,” She huffed spreading the menu down on the table. “Do you want your usual or something different? Should I get Quackity’s drink ready too?”
“Nah just stick with mine, for now, tell Judas I’d like to see her.”
Addie clicked her tongue and placed her hand on her hip, “fine. But if you’re just going to grossly flirt with her as you do with (y/n), then keep it to yourself.”
“You’re not the boss of me. Just because you look like an old hag-” The way she glared at him sent a chill down his spine, “shit babe take a joke will you.”
Eventually, people began to file into the tavern, as the morning faded into the afternoon and then into the evening. The tavern was bustling with life, Judas’s elegant voice traveled through the crowds and her voices seemed to float above the voices. Quackity joined Schlatt by his side seemingly irritated by a conversation they were having, Schlatt was about five drinks in at this point, which was much less than his usual, and Quackity on his second.
“What are they talking about?” Luvena asked swinging her legs as she sat on the bar beside you. Her moobloom ears twitching every so often as she tried to eavesdrop on their conversation,
“Vena it’s impolite to eavesdrop.” You scolded bopping her on the head lightly, she whined and rubbed the top of her head.
“I wasn’t!” She argued as you rolled your eyes, you looked over at the two men to find Quackity looking over at you. His hand was raised in the air, one finger was up summoning you to get him another drink.
“I’ll be back, why don’t you talk to Ven while I’m gone. She’ll keep an eye on you.”
“I don’t need a babysitter!”
“Good thing she doesn’t want to babysit your ass either, now shoo.” You motioned her to hop off the bar and she did so with a long, dramatic sigh. You looked over at Ven who gave you a silent nod, letting you know she’d watch out for the youngest member of your band of misfits. Meanwhile, you grabbed Quackity another drink and walked over to the two men at the table, “Someone order a drink?”
“Aye! Mamacita! Fancy seeing you here.” Quackity purred a bright smile spreading across his face seeing that you were the one to deliver his drink,
“Hey Big Q,” You greeted placing the drink in front of him, “You doing okay?”
“Better now that an angel walked into my sight,” He flirted and you rolled your eyes. “What? It’s true! You always brighten my day you know? Ow!” Schlatt hit his ex-first mate over the head,
“Take a breath lover boy. Thanks for the drink sugar tits.”
“You’re welcome, what were the both of you talking about if I may ask.” You hummed grabbing some of Schlatt’s empty glasses, an uncharacteristic frown came over both their faces. “Oh? Touchy subject?”
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Just dishing out some old problems, most of which are better left unsaid.” He aimed that statement at Quackity, his jaw seemed clenched and Quackity’s brow furrowed in annoyance.
“Well I just want to remind the both of you,” You passed the tray of empty glasses over to Addie as she walked by, she took them swiftly. You grabbed the side of both their heads and pressed them against your chest, not that you knew but both men’s flushed to the tips of their ears. “No physical fights are allowed in this tavern. If one starts I won’t hesitate to kick your fucking asses. Got it?” They looked over your chest and locked eyes with one another, after years on the sea they could read one another’s facial expressions rather easily and at that moment they shared the same thought,
‘They should fight more often.’
“I said, got it?”
“Yes ma’am,” The repeated simultaneously as you pulled away,
“That’s what I like to hear-”
“(Y/n)!” Vendetta’s velvety voice called out from behind you, you turned and saw a group of newcomers file into your bar. Your body tensed momentarily,
Pirates.
Schlatt turned his head to follow your gaze and he tensed from behind you, “fuck me.” He growled and Quackity raised an eyebrow at his captain, he turned to look over his shoulder and his face lit up.
“Sapnap!”
The pirate who had a white bandana tied around his forehead glanced over at him and a smile lit up across his features. “Quackity? Is that you?”
“My man!” He stood up from his chair heading over to wrap the man in a hug, “I haven’t seen you in years, man.” You zoned out of their conversation eyes locking with a few of the other pirates who walked into the tavern. Vendetta and Addie both greeted them, but everyone who was under your care knew to keep their guard up around pirates. From what you could gather there seemed to be two crews, a crew of what only seemed to be two, Sapnap was included. The fire demon was still talking with Quackity, while the other man took in the view of the tavern, he had shaggy blonde hair, and had a few scars across his face. A porcelain mask sat on top of his head, a forest green cloak was around his shoulders, his hood was lowered around his neck. A sword was strapped tight against his hip and there was another dagger that seemed to be tucked against his side. His eyes gazed towards you and he winked teasingly with a coy smile, you scoffed looking over at Addie.
“Seat those two gentlemen yeah? Be careful, I’ll tell Ven and Yeti to keep an eye.” Addie looked at you, concern written on her soft features but she nodded. While Addie departed, you noticed Ven talking with the other group. Luvena was hiding behind Vendetta’s long legs, although a tall blonde boy seemed very keen on talking to her. You smoothed out your dress and moved towards the group of three, you eyed them up casually. The blonde looked to be around Luvena’s age, he had a shit-eating grin on his face and his uniform matched that of the second tallest in the group. The second tallest was clad in a light blue jacket with large golden buttons on the red collar. He had a cream-frilled shirt underneath and a black belt holding up his brown slacks, those were tucked into black boots. On his back seemed to be a guitar and was the only one of them not holding a weapon, but you knew better than to assume with pirates. His curly brown hair seemed to bounce every time he talked, he seemed to be the ringleader but there was no doubt that the real ringleader was the hybrid standing beside him. He was taller, on par with Vendetta in height, he had long pink hair that was tied in a ponytail on top of his head. A few pieces framed his face elegantly, there was no doubt he was the captain of the little crew that was in your tavern. He had a white shirt on with a deep low cut ‘V’ it showed off a good portion of his scared chest, around his shoulders sat a deep red jacket but his arms were outside of it and crossed over his chest. He seemed content on letting his second in command do all the talking, his red eyes were the only ones to meet yours. His head tilted upwards and before Vendetta could stop him he walked over towards you,
“You own the tavern?” His voice was a low monotone and it sent an array of pleasant chills up your spine.
“I do,” You raised an eyebrow crossing your arms over your chest, “Names (Y/n). You are?”
“Captain Technoblade of the ship Odyssey, I was hoping you had a few rooms and a table available. My brothers and I are pretty exhausted, we’ve been sailing all night.”
Brothers, they certainly didn’t all look alike, but then again you certainly had a mix of girls in your care. Your tongue swiped against the top row of your teeth, “Why don’t you and your brothers take a seat at the bar for now. Juniper will be happy to serve you, I’ll see if we have some free rooms available.”
“Thank you, once you return I’ll introduce them to you if you’d like,” Technoblade bowed his head before turning back to get his brother’s attention.
“I’d like that thank you.” You gave a nod motioning for Vendetta to follow you as you slid behind the bar with Juniper, Judas had also taken a spot sitting on the bar. You figured you’d let her know as well, considering she was another adult figure in the group. You knew either Juniper or Judas would fill in Addie considering the three were close. “Ven, can they be trusted?”
“Not too sure about the masked man, the one Quackity seems to be familiar with seems decent enough. He’s a fire demon though, could smell him from miles away, we all just need to be cautious.”
“Agreed,” Juniper added tapping her finger on her chin. “We should just try to curb all fighting if at all possible, what did the captain of the other group ask you?”
“They want a room, I’m about to check to see if we have availability. Thoughts on that?”
Judas let out a low hum her eyes followed both sets of pirate groups around the tavern, “I say if we have availability let them stay. They seem harmless so long as we don’t mess with them, which we’d never do.”
“Plus I can always stay awake to keep an eye on them.” Vendetta tapped her nails against the table,
“You sure.”
“As if I’d let anything happen to any of you, you’re my family.”
You all smiled softly, and you noticed Judas’s eyes widen, “Zig! Get that out of your mouth this instant!” She shot up from her spot and over to the person in question. The three of you laughed fondly at the nonsense, meanwhile, Juniper saw the three brothers sit at her bar. She moved away from you to greet them, you immediately could tell she was taken with the second eldest brother.
He seemed to be an absolute lady killer.
Vendetta ruffled your hair before going back to stand at her place by the door to keep the peace. You headed up the stairs to the rafters to check on the extra rooms you had, “Excuse me?” You tensed visibly turning around to face the man in all green. His eyes were mesmerizing, a fierce jade green to contrast his cloak, “Do you happen to have two rooms available?” The man held up two fingers to clarify his request,
“Do you usually start introductions with a blatant request like that?”
He chuckled a smile spreading across his lips, “I’m Dream and you gorgeous?”
“(Y/n), it’s your lucky day I’m about to check and see if any are available. My tavern is a hot commodity tonight.”
“Well, I can see why,” he spoke and you raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side.
“Oh?”
“It has the hottest owner around. Word spreads fast.”
You couldn’t believe this man was making your cheeks burn, he chuckled softly taking a step towards your figure. “Oh really, word spreads that fast on the open sea, Captian?” It was his turn to turn light pink, but he covered it up quickly with a chuckle.
“Touché.”
“I’ll get on that room for you and your friend. Take a seat, for now, this part is for guests and staff only you know?”
“So I have you all to myself?” He cheekily mused, he stepped towards you and before you knew it you were pinned against a wall. His hand suddenly brushed against your cheek, it was cold in comparison to your warm cheek. You felt Dream’s thumb brush against your cheek slowly, “You know...being on the open sea alone does something to a person.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” You mused pushing your forehead back against Dream’s, “All alone with only your crew with you.” Taking his other hand within your own you slid it up to your hip, you saw his entire face turn red as he stared down at your chest. “You’re probably missing a little love in your life, aren’t you Dreamy?” He nodded dumbly, his eyes still not leaving your chest,
Perfect. You weren’t going to let some pirate boy get the better of you.
He let out a grunt of pain as you spun him around and pressed his head into the wall with your elbow, your other hand has his pinned behind his back. “This hallway is for staff and guests only,” You purred in his ear before letting him go and swinging your hips before heading up the stairs fully. From behind you, Dream’s face was a deep, dark red and he had to clear his throat. Dream wasn’t going to let you go after that, I mean look at you, tough and able to hold your own, it awakened something inside him.
After checking up on the rooms you headed back down into the main hall, three-room keys in your hand. Glancing over at the scene in front of you, you saw Juniper dancing in the middle of the tavern the flirtatious brother at her side. Judas was sitting beside Schatt and Quackity at the bar, Addie was tending to Technoblade and the blonde at their little table. Dream and Sapnap were whispering to one another in the corner but still seemed to be enjoying the show. Vendetta was smiling softly by the door, beside her were Luvena and Zig both playing various instruments. You noticed Eret was also amongst the crowd, she had a brilliant grin on his face, it was flushed pink with alcohol and you smiled to yourself.
It was peaceful, and for a moment you forget half the patrons were scoundrels or pirates.
That was until the man dancing with Juniper locked eyes with you, his eyes lit up and he spun Juniper off into Addie’s arms. She giggled snuggling into the mother sheep’s arms, you heard a distressed “Juni! I’m holding glasses!” Before your vision was overtaken by the handsome flirt.
“Hello love,” He hummed, “May I offer you a dance?”
You were about to refuse but you saw Yeti, who finally made her appearance as it was getting closer to Judas’s set, giving you a big thumbs up “I’d be honored.” You responded taking his hand within your own, he pulled you out onto the dance floor and you felt his other hand politely hover on the small of your back. He allowed you to lean into his touch as he began to elegantly spin you around the dance floor, you were almost embarrassed to say felt like a princess. “Maybe I could get your name?” You asked above the music, “Since it seems you’re my dance partner this evening?”
“Wilbur Soot my love.” He hummed proudly, “The first mate of the ship Odysseus at your service. Plus I play music on the side.”
“Well now you need to play for us,” Wilbur twirled you around in a circle,
“Maybe one day. If you give me your name?”
“(Y/n) (L/n).”
“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”
“I was right.” You commented biting the bottom of your lip trying not to smile,
“About what?”
“You.”
“Ah? Already talking about me I see? Is my manliness and gentlemanly qualities that renowned?”
“Not exactly.” He picked you up slightly and pulled you into a low dip, “I was right in thinking you a nothing but a flirty playboy.” Wilbur almost dropped you, you squawked grabbing onto his neck. He began to laugh as you clung to his chest,
“Alright love. You caught me red-handed.”
Wilbur set you on your feet hands on your lower back, you were pulled close to his chest. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“I get them for free hon. I own the place.”
“Oh...oh.” He paled a little, “I didn’t fuck up our chances of getting a room did I?”
“Nah lucky for you and your brothers, I have you covered, same with your buddies over there.” You motioned to Dream and Quackity’s friend, Wilbur’s face paled as he felt the chilled room key get placed in his palm. “What’s your little brother’s name?”
“Tommy.”
“Tell them both we serve breakfast free from 7 am to 10 am.” He nodded as you walked past, Wilbur meanwhile turned to look at Technoblade. It seemed he had his red eyes on the couple the entire time they were dancing. He held up a room key, it was labeled 205; Technoblade nodded his head before leaning back and talking to Addie once more. “Dream!” You called throwing a hand up into the air, instead of Dream, Sapnap looked up he nudged Dream with his elbow. The man was now wearing his mask, but at least you could tell he was looking at you,
“Well hello, darlin’ you must be (Y/n). Name's Sapnap. Dream told me about you, so you have good news for us I hope?”
“Pleasure, I'm sure he told you all about me,” He nodded, his eyes taking in your body especially your ass. “Got you both a room key, your neighbors. Across from the other crew of pirates. Just don’t fight and we won’t have any problems.”
“You mean those jackasses are staying?” Sapnap complained loudly, looking over your shoulder at the other crew members.
“You both didn’t think you were the only patrons, did you? This is a business after all.” You, tossed the keys their way, Dream caught it with ease and Sapnap fumbled it only a little bit. After they were in their hands, you waved them off with a flutter of your palm you turned around to go speak with Judas about her set but before you could take a step you saw Schlatt stumbling up from his seat. “Ah shit,” You knew what was about to happen, you weren’t paying attention to the ram hybrid so who knew how many drinks in he was. You felt responsible, for a while you and Judas had been trying to help Schlatt with his addiction. You couldn’t help but wonder what exactly set him off for him to get this drunk, Quackity caught him in his arms with a grumble. The man was a drunken mess, and as you approached you could hear his slurred speech and could practically smell the alcohol on his breath. “Schlatt,” You spoke carefully and as soon as you got close Schlatt detached himself from Quackity and lunged at you. His head was buried in his chest, he almost purred like he was very happy to be there, you rolled your eyes and ran your fingers through his hair. You were mindful of his horns but he seemed pretty eager for you to touch them,
“(Y/n).” He whined although it was muffled against your ample chest, “Why do pirates have to fuck everything up?”
“What are you on about Schlatt? No one likes pirates.”
“They’re gonna take you away from me, sugar. You’re my safe space, this tavern is my safe space.” You sighed listening to his drunken ramblings, you grabbed his horns and pulled him away from your chest.
“This is my life Schlatt, I’m not going anywhere trust me. Plus my family is here, they need me. So try not to worry okay?” You slicked back the hair on his forehead before planting a fond kiss there, everyone in the tavern narrowed their eyes at the scene. Even your girls were green with envy, at the sight of their lovely boss kissing someone who wasn’t them. He leaned against your lips eyes fluttering closed,
“Well, well, well if it isn’t Captian Schlatt? Or ex-captain if I remember correctly.”
“What?”
You turned your head and felt Schlatt’s arms wrap around your waist and held you close to his chest. The touch was protective and you felt your heart skip a beat, why was he protecting you, and why did you actually feel protected?
“Has the drinking finally caught up to you? Or was it the fact that you lost your so-”
Was that Dream's voice?
“Shut the fuck up.” He snarled and you were shoved behind him into Quackity’s arms, you felt less protected. “I’m not that person anymore and you fucking know that,” Vendetta came to stand beside the both of you a hand was placed on your shoulder protectively. You knew she was desperately wanted to step in and you held up a hand to stop her.
“This isn’t good…” Quackity murmured, “They’re going to fight. Schlatt’s going to get himself fucking killed.”
“Calm yourself. We won’t let it get that far.” Ven grumbled eyeing you waiting for your signal. But you were lost in the conversation or argument, the two were having, you couldn’t believe Schlatt was a pirate. He was so...he just didn’t...he was a drunk okay? That didn’t exactly shout feared pirate to you!
“Oh, are you sure? I remember that look, that’s the look you’d get before you stomped someone’s lights out. No wonder your son disappeared under mysterious circumstances-” Dream was shoved against one of the poles holding up the building. He grunted and Schlatt’s arm was pulled back ready to punch, but his arm was stopped by smaller hands,
“Pardon me Mr. Schlatt but you know how we feel about fighting in our tavern.” Addie bubbled, she had a smile on her face but it wasn’t kind, it was full of warning.
“Get the fuck off me, sheepie. This doesn’t fucking concern you.” Schlatt shoved her away and as soon as his skin made contact with her body he made a sound of distress.
“(Y/n)...” Addie murmured quietly, your father’s dagger was embedded in Schlatt’s arm,
“Fucking hell you bitch!” He snarled baring his teeth, you glared at him twisting the dagger he yelled in agony.
“Touch one of my girls again and next time this dagger is going right into your back.” You ripped the dagger out, splattering the floor with blood. He grabbed his arm tightly and looked at you with slight betrayal in his yellow eyes. “I mean it Schlatt, Quackity take him home.” The man nodded looking at you longingly, he muttered a quiet ‘Sorry’ before escorting him out of your tavern. “You,” You glared harshly over at Dream, “Go to your room.”
“You’re not my mother.”
“Then find another play to stay.” You spat, he turned away and you looked over at Addie, “Are you alright?” Your voice turned tender as you cupped her cheeks. She nuzzled against your palms and nodded her head,
“I’m fine. You didn’t need to-”
“Yes, I did. No one messes with you. With any of you on my watch.”
The sheep hybrid made a little sound as her bottom lip trembled, she wrapped you in a tight hug which you accepted without hesitance. Judas walked over next and wrapped you both in her arms, pretty soon you were surrounded by your girls and Zig.
All of them had the same mindset: comforting both you and Addie.
It was good to be loved.
Wilbur watched the scene curiously and glanced over at Technoblade who stood up from his chair.
“I think that’s our cue to leave for the night.” He looked over at his first mate, Wilbur nodded in agreement grabbing his guitar from the chair beside Technoblade.
“They...Techno were they talking about Tubbo.” Tommy whispered to his brother, his brow furrowing in concern as they all climbed the steps up to their room, “You don’t think-”
“It just might be Tommy.” Technoblade tilted his head to the side, “Guess that’ll be something we ask him when we get back to the ship tomorrow.”
“Well, this trip is going to be way more fun than I thought.” Wilbur snickered lighting a cigarette, taking a long drag, before letting the smoke curl out of his mouth and up into the rafters. ~~~
Tag List: @v01dw4lk3rz, @jam-bombs, @abovenyx, @glitterydigitalart, @phoenixaesthetic19, @luluwinchester, @boiled-onionrings, @pastelmoonwitche, @roxy3457, @alovestruck-fool, @victory-is-here, @mack4676, @fiorenc, @theoneandonlyyeti, @bloodrose0723, @sandyy-woo,
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This is a little specific so feel free to give it a pass if you're not into it, but would you like to like to do season 2 Lunch Date Era jonmartin with the 'friendly hugs' prompt? Thank you, and have a good day!
specific prompts are actually really nice, they give me something solid to work off of, so this was actually perfect! I had a lot of fun writing this one. thank you and enjoy, anon!
____________
Jon can't stop bouncing his leg.
He keeps forgetting that he's doing it, and then noticing again, and then forcibly stopping himself, but it never lasts long. The cafe is crowded and loud, which is distracting enough on its own, but Martin is also there, sitting across from him and tucking into a sandwich, gamely trying to engage Jon in conversation even though Jon keeps getting distracted and bouncing his leg.
"Jon? You there?"
Martin's voice fades back into Jon's awareness, and he shifts his gaze back to him. "Sorry," he says for the fifth time that lunch hour, "um, say that again?"
He feels bad. He does. Ever since he found out about Martin's CV, Jon's been kicking himself over how paranoid he'd been, thinking that Martin was out to get him, shouting at him over what turned out to be nothing. Jon doesn't want to be that sort of boss, that sort of person, but he'd just been so overwhelmed. He could hardly believe it when Martin asked him to join him for lunch, after all the things Jon's said to him. Still, he's grateful for the olive branch. It's too bad he keeps messing it up by forgetting to listen to Martin when he talks.
Speaking of--
"Oh, damn," Jon mutters, interrupting whatever it is Martin is trying to tell him. "Martin, god, I'm so sorry, I just got--"
"Distracted?" Martin says, and to Jon's surprise he doesn't seem annoyed, just . . . concerned. "I've noticed. Jon, are you feeling alright?"
"What? Yes, I'm fine." Jon eats the last few bites of his salad so he doesn't have to meet Martin's eyes.
"Sure? Because you seem really anxious." Martin's voice has that soft, worried lilt to it that Jon used to get annoyed by. It doesn't bother him so much anymore. It's . . . sort of nice, really, to be worried over, sometimes.
Not now, though. Because right now Jon doesn't need to be worried over. "I'm not anxious. Just . . . it's distracting in here. It's loud."
"Oh, well, let's go then," Martin says, finishing up his sandwich and standing up to gather his coat. "It's not too cold out. We can walk around downtown until lunch hour is over."
"I--" Jon wants to protest, but he realizes that yes, getting out of this small cafe would be very welcome. "That's . . . that's a good idea, actually."
His leg can't bounce when he's walking, and the early winter air is cold but not biting, and the walkways aren't crowded. Jon can feel himself calming down by the time they get a block away from the cafe. Maybe he had been a little anxious, after all. This was a very good idea. Martin has very good ideas, he thinks.
"If that cafe was too much," Martin is telling him, and thankfully Jon is actually able to listen to him now, "there's another place we could try next time. New Indian place, right around the corner from the Institute. Tim says he goes there whenever he has a PT appointment, to treat himself."
Jon wants to go back to the fact that Martin wants there to be a next time, but for now there's something more pressing to address. "Tim's still doing physical therapy?" he says. He'd thought he was finished weeks ago.
"Yeah, he says it's just follow-up appointments. He's mostly okay, they just need to make sure he's improving, I guess." Martin shoots him a sidelong look. "I thought you and he were close."
"Not, um . . . not so much anymore." Jon stuffs his hands into his coat pockets, ducking into his collar. "We don't really . . . talk."
"Oh," Martin says. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah." Jon doesn't want to get into it. Thankfully, Martin doesn't press the issue.
"Are you still going to PT?" Martin says instead. "You don't have to tell me, obviously. I just . . . I never see you outside the archives anymore."
Jon bites the inside of his cheek. "I, um . . . I sort of . . . stopped going. After the second appointment."
Martin stops short in the middle of the sidewalk, and Jon has to double back. "Christ, Jon!" he says, not angry, but aggravated. "You can't just skip out on that stuff, you could do permanent damage--"
"Martin, I'm fine," Jon says. "See, I'm walking around and everything. Trust me, if it was bad, I'd have kept going, but the whole thing was a waste of time and I had work to get done--"
"Your health comes first," Martin says, with finality, before his demeanor softens. "I'm not an idiot, Jon, I notice you staying late and coming in early, I notice when you skip meals. You're running yourself ragged. It's a job, Jon, and trust me, I know how important this work is, I get it, but none of it, alright, none of it's more important than you."
Jon blinks at him. He wants to protest, but every half-formed rebuttal sounds either defensive or outright silly. Martin is right, after all. Jon just wishes that he weren't, because then he wouldn't have to reevaluate everything he's been doing for the past two months.
Martin goes on, taking a step closer to him. "Just . . . you don't need to keep throwing yourself at a wall, Jon. At least give yourself a break every once in a while."
"I can't just walk away, Martin. O-Or, I don't--" Jon's voice has gone shaky. He clears his throat and tries again. "I--I don't really know how. There's just . . . there's so much, and I don't know where any of it leads, if it's leading anywhere at all, and . . . I just . . . I've no idea what I'm supposed to do about all of it."
Martin gives him a look that Jon doesn't know how to place. It's not pity, or condescension, which Jon would expect from most everyone else. He just looks . . . sort of sad. His hands are clasped in front of his chest, tugging restlessly on his fingers. "Jon, would you . . . um, that is . . ." Suddenly Martin thrusts his open arms out towards Jon and blurts out, "Would you like a hug?"
Jon's speechless. What a thing to be asked, he thinks, and especially by a coworker, no matter how well they know each other, it's completely unprofessional, and even if Martin were his closest friend, which he isn't, but even if he were, why on earth would Jon of all people need a hug? Sure, he's not doing all that great, but Martin doesn't need to know that, and anyway how is a hug supposed to fix anything, especially a hug from someone who doesn't know the half of what Jon's been going through lately, or how scared and confused he's been, or about Jon's very serious problems that are complicated and terrifying and can't be fixed with something as childish and simple as a--
"Yes, please," Jon says, the words coming out in an exhale of pent-up tension, and he all but collapses into Martin's open arms. His face lands just under Martin's chin, half-tucked into his shoulder, and he's just barely able to wrap his arms around Martin's midsection as Martin hugs him back tightly, squeezing him against his chest, and Jon had never known how strong Martin was, how much he had been hiding beneath those soft jumpers of his. His arms, all muscle beneath fat, feel as though they could fight off an army if they really wanted to, and despite his nagging paranoia, Jon can't help but feel utterly protected by them. He feels himself relaxing, bit by bit, sinking into the softness of Martin's chest, letting him hug him closer, just tight enough to be secure without hurting. As he leans into the hug, he doesn't feel any concern about Martin losing his grip or slipping backwards. Martin can take his weight; he knows this. He is as solid and reliable as a wall, and just as stubborn, and he will not drop Jon. Jon lets out a deep sigh, his breaths evening out and slowing, tension seeping from his limbs until he feels entirely relaxed. He feels cared for. He feels safe. It's been so, so long since he's felt safe.
He doesn't even notice that he's closed his eyes until Martin's arms shift around him, and Jon realizes they've been hugging for probably way longer than is normal. His eyes snap open and he backs off, hands sliding away from Martin, clearing his throat awkwardly. He tries not to miss the gentle security of Martin's arms.
"Um," Martin says, sounding like he's about to apologize, but Jon interrupts him.
"Thank you," he says, trying to keep his voice even. "That was--I, um. I needed that." When was the last time he'd hugged someone? Jon can't even remember. "It was really nice," he says quietly. Another one of Martin's brilliant ideas.
Martin nods, looking relieved, and perhaps a little fond, though it may just be Jon's imagination. "Anytime," he says, and Jon thinks he might mean it. He hopes he does. "What are friends for, eh?"
Jon blinks. Are they friends? How long has that been the case? He looks at Martin, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, a small smile on his face, and he thinks that yes, maybe they are friends. It would be nice to be friends, anyway. If Martin says they're friends, Jon won't correct him. "Yeah," he says, and he's very glad to see Martin's face brighten at the word. "I, um," and Jon needs to clear his throat again, "I-I'll try. To have a break once in a while."
"Promise?" Martin says, and Jon can't help but laugh.
"I promise."
Martin nods. "Okay. Good."
"This, today, lunch I mean, this was nice. I'd . . . um. I'd like to do it again."
"Oh! Um, sure. Definitely," Martin says, smiling.
"We can go to that Indian place," Jon says.
"Sure," Martin says. "Tomorrow?" His look is hesitant, but Jon's answer is immediate.
"Yes," he says, letting a smile run over his lips. "Yes, Martin, I'd like that very much."
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RQ: He’s upset and needs comforting
Masterlist
Ya'll want angst? Because I have some angst.
Very hurt/comfort
Set platonically and within the group since there was no specification. Hope that’s ok! Sorry it took awhile, it got away from me again. I think this may be a trend.
Scenario under the cut! It’s super long so take caution!
Sky
It took a while for you to notice but eventually you do.
Sky has been acting weird all day.
It was only clipped responses at first, then it was was the lack of attention where Sky would have been the first to comment or act otherwise. What really tipped you off finally was how he seemed to be evading the whole group. Not necessarily stepping away and out of sight but he didn’t interact with anyone and when they approached him, he didn’t make eye contact, seemingly trying to cut the conversation short.
No one has said anything.
You mention it to Twilight about his out of character behavior but he says that it maybe a bad day, or he slept wrong, or some other reason that you stopped listening to because it didn’t make any sense.
Sky was always trying to be friendly no matter his mood and it took a lot to shake him up.
What was eating at the Chosen Hero?
Soon, the uncertainty begins to eat at you too and you wait for night fall, once everyone is asleep to strike.
Strike up a conversation that is.
Sky usually takes the last watch because he’s usually the first one out regardless of what activities for the day so you strive to wake up early.
It works for the most part, your internal clock doing what you want it to do when you blink your eyes open. Part of you begins to drift off again so you sit up and nearly fall asleep that way.
A hand comes up on your back and rubs a small circle. “Nightmare?”
It’s Sky and he’s looking at you with mild concern.
You smile and shake your head. “No. I’m alright but I think I’ll stay up with you if you don’t mind.”
“I wouldn’t mind the company.” He moves out of your space and back to where he sat.
You follow, still groggy from just waking from your slumber but succeed in not stepping on any of your friends or waking them up as well with the added noise. you sit next to the Hero of the Skies with little fan fare and let the moment settle on the both of you before looking skyward.
“Can I ask you something?” You don’t look at Sky and continue star gazing even if they’re a little harder to spot as the sun travels closer for it’s shift.
Sky hums in agreement and follows your gaze upwards.
“Are you ok? You seemed a little off lately.”
Sky doesn’t say anything for the first few seconds and you suspect that maybe he didn’t hear you. With him spacing out so much and the fact that you whispered for the sake of your still sleeping friends, you’re inclined to repeat yourself but Sky answers in time.
“Just thinking a lot, I suppose. Nothing serious.”
“Yeah?” You don’t look his way. This is casual. This is friendly. This is not a big deal. “Rupee for your thoughts?”
“It’s not that interesting.”
You shrug. “Hit me with it anyway. It’s got to be something if it’s throwing you off your rocker. Maybe a new perspective will help clear some of it up?”
Sky frowns at your attempts, once again retreating into his mind. You let the offer hang in the air and let it sink in.
You’re disinclined to bring it up anymore. Your brain is still tired and you’re wondering your effectiveness when half of your thoughts are still muddled with sleep and fatigue. You could have totally slept in some more. What on earth made you think this was a good idea?
“Time mentioned something earlier that I can’t seem to let go of.” Sky begins.
You hum back and let him keep talking.
“I never fought this Ganon guy they all so talk so much about. I fought the God Demise. Before I could land the final blow, he cast a curse on me, on us, that some cycle would continue. His hatred would last forever and my blood line and Zelda’s will be cursed to deal with constant darkness caused by him.” Sky admits, looking now at his intertwined hands. “I finished him soon after that but... I wonder... Am I the cause-... Is this all my fault? Am I the reason that we’re all here right now? That everyone has gone through so much? So many thing happened that should have never occurred. Time and Legend and Wild have all suffered so much.... more than I can possibly ever imagine and it seems like it’s never ending. Everyone starts they’re adventures so young... If I had killed him sooner... If I had just got it over with... If I had just shut him up-”
“Hey.” Your hand lands on his shoulder, cutting off his tirade. “None of this is anyone’s fault. The only people to blame are Ganon and now, this Demise guy. You did what you could. You still got the job done and no one here will ever blame you for what has happened to them or to Hyrule. You were young too... you’re still young. Give yourself a little kindness and understanding, just as you do with everyone here. You didn’t deserve it either. It’s not like you asked to fight a God.”
“Well...”
“Sky you know what I mean.”
“I should have been faster. If-”
“There’s no use in worrying about what if’s.” You shove him slightly. “This is our life. Even if you ask, no one is capable of giving you the answers. I get it. It’s hard to know if the path you took is the right one if it’s all you’ve ever known and you can’t see where the other would have lead... But... Even if horrible things happen, I’m still glad to have met you. I’m glad I met the others. I’m happy to be here with you and with them, and I’m glad that it’s not just me anymore.”
You let the words sink in before leaning down wards and trying to get him to look you in the eye. “I can’t answer your questions. But what happened, happened and the best thing we can do is learn how to play with the cards we’re dealt.”
He take a deep breath and finally looks in your direction. “I know you’re right.”
“Naturally.”
“But I can’t help but feel responsible for being-”
“But you’re not responsible for their pain or any of this Sky. If Ganon has anything to do with Demise then it’s all Demise’ fault. His and his only. Understand?” You stress. “I wish... I wish I could do something more to help.”
Sky places his hand over yours where you still have it on his shoulder and sends you a small smile. “I know. Me too.”
Wild
“Zelda, would you please drop it!” You hear the Champion yell, his voice carrying over the wind and somehow getting louder. “We’ve had this conversation before and it’s not the time to have it again. I have things to do excuse me.”
Wild storms into his house and shuts the door behind, blocking it with all his weight and waits for the indignant shrieking on the other side to go away. The voice ends with a frustrated huff and after a moment of silence, Wild relaxes and steps away from the door and further into the house.
You’re almost scared for the moment. You’ve not known Wild to yell, even less so for a Link to be on bad terms with Zelda no matter the universe. To make matters worse, you were the only that was actually within the house at the moment and you weren’t entirely sure how to proceed from here.
“Trouble in paradise?”
That probably wasn’t the way to go, if you were being honest with yourself.
Wild groans, loud and exaggerated and sits at the table in front of you with as much fan fair.
“Do not...call it that.” He sounds tired.
“Sorry.” You amend with an apologetic shrug. “That-” You reference to the scene outside. “-Didn’t sound ideal.”
“No. It’s not.” Wild sighs and places his face in his hands with his elbows on the table. Bad table manners, a small voice in your head pipes up. But it’s his house, so you bite your tongue.
“Can I ask what it was about?” You hesitatingly venture.
Wild takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “I wanted to live a simple life.” He starts. “Everything was over now, right? That was the idea I had. Defeat the evil and get to finally live as a normal man. Maybe explore more of my home and show Zelda all the cool things I’ve seen and done. Everything I knew, everything I remembered is gone and has been gone for a while. No one alive misses it. No one alive even knows about it. This is the world they were born into and they wouldn’t have it any other way. I was prepared to accept that and join them.”
Your face twists in sympathy as you nod along. “I take it that’s the issue here.”
“When I defeated Calamity Ganon and reunited with Zelda, she seemed so full of hope and purpose.” Wild continues. “I saw it in her eyes. She wanted a different thing to what I wanted.”
“And what’s that?”
Wild gives you a pained look. “Zelda wants to try and rebuild the kingdom. Make it into what she remembers it to be. She wants to strengthen relationships with the other nations and reestablish the royal family and a whole lot of other things that I cannot begin to think of how long it would both take and last considering all the damage that already been done. She wants to be Queen. And over what? Hyrule Kingdom is no more. Can’t be a Queen without a kingdom to rule and there’s not a lot of Hylians left that would agree to being ruled over or even enough of them to count as a kingdom to begin with.”
“I suppose it’s not a bad goal to have but you do make a point.” You try and add to the conversation, feeling wildly out of your depth. “Does she know that you-”
“Yes. And she thinks I’m crazy for it. She thinks that I’ve given up on my friends and the past and the future and- uugghhh.” Wild leaned forward and slams his head on the table with enough force to make you jump.
“That look like it hurt.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“I believe you.” A small smile covers your face.
A beat passes before Wild continues to talk with his head still on top of the table. “I don’t think she realizes that I’ve changed after everything. Maybe if I had my memories to begin with, or maybe if I had managed to defeat Calamity Ganon sooner, I’d be more inclined to agree with her, but I’ve experienced so much and done so much that I don’t want to go back to how things were. I’m a different man now.” Wild looks up at you. “She’s different too but I don’t think she’s ready for that conversation.”
“So you’re stuck with this one?”
“Yes.”
“That sucks man.” You shift in your seat. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Not if you can change the past.” He pouts.
“Shame. I’m fresh out of past changing wishing powder.”
“That’s not a thing.” He pouts even more.
You chuckle at the display before sobering up ever so slightly. “Do you want me to talk to her?”
“What good will that do?”
“Maybe a third person party has to step in. It could be that it’s because you’re the one who saying that she isn’t listening.” You shrug. “I think you’re right but I’m willing to give her chance to tell her side of the story while you cool down in here. I can be a distraction so you can sneak out quietly and she won’t know you’re here anymore! It’s a win win! And maybe you guys can come to an agreement when you both see each other again with new perspectives.”
Wild gives you another tired look and leans into his hand. “I doubt it would work. Zelda is incredibly stubborn, one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. But if you think it would help, I won’t stop you. I’ve run out of arguments and I’m done hearing hers.”
“Ok.” You say getting up and moving around the table. “I think it’s worth a shot. There’s a saying where I’m from that goes, ‘it’ll all be alright in the end, and if it’s not alright, then it’s not the end.’”
You give Wild a hug around his shoulder and squeeze him tight. “I have faith that you’ll pull through and get to live peacefully, but until then, you’ve got us on your side ok?”
He leans in your direction and wraps his arms around your own. “I know. I figured as much.”
“Good man.”
“I’m definitely sneaking out of here though.”
“That’s fair. Go hide.”
“I will... And thanks for listening to me. I didn’t mean to go off like that.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
Four
"I'm sorry, what?" Four snaps his head up to stare at the Champion.
"What?" Wild tilts his head. "What? There's no stuff in the grass in my Hyrule. Just crickets and lizards...you know normal stuff. I don't know why there's tools and rupees in all of yours."
"You don't-" Four cut himself off with a click of his teeth, a piece in his mind clicking into place. He stands suddenly, clearly upset and tense as he processes the information.
"Four?" You call out to him but he doesn't respond to you, nor does he look back.
"Four!" Hyrule calls as well. "Where are you going?"
No reply.
"I'll go with him. Just in case." You stand up in a rush and nearly knock over the equipment at your feet in the process. "Don't wait up for us."
You follow him.
Four is fast and quiet and it takes very little time to lose him- or rather, for him to lose you.
Before you knew it, there's no trace of him and there's nothing within the forest that would give you a hint to his whereabouts.
"Great." You hiss and look around.
Nothing.
"Four!" If he won't show himself, you'll just have to make some noise. "Four! Four! Show me a sign so I know you're not dead!"
You wait.
"Don't make me get Wolfie!"
Nothing.
"Four!" You scream a little louder and begin to run. Now that you've said it out loud, despite being a joke in the beginning, the thought of Four being dead somewhere spikes your panic and anxiety and it fuels your quest.
It's only been a few minutes and Four can handle himself just fine but you don't think about that.
"FOUR!"
"Why are you screaming?" A voice come just beyond you.
You sprint toward it and find Four in a small clearing, crouched down and appearing to hold something in the palm of his hand.
"I was calling you." You don't know how you find it in you scold him. "A response would have been nice."
"Sorry." He shrugs. "I was having a conversation, it would be rude to drop it."
You get on your tip toes to look around him and find nothing. "With... With what?"
Four looks down into his hand and places it, ever so gently, on the ground, pausing and standing up to see you. "You can't see them?"
"See who?" You step over to him. "Four? Are you ok?"
His face twists in annoyance before sighing. "I'm fine."
"No offence, but I doubt that."
"It... a group of creatures that can only be seen by good children. They were important on my quests and have helped me greatly. Children usually stop seeing them around the time when they turn sixteen."
"Would it be easy for me to chalk it all up to magic?" You bit your lip.
"Probably. If it'll help you sleep at night." Four sighs and looks down to the ground, a small smile on his lips before it twists into a painfully and... he looks seconds from crying.
"I did so much to help them... and they helped me.... They leave gifts in the grass to help travelers and us heroes alike and yet... Wild says it doesn't happen anymore..." Four gulps and looks away from you and what ever is by his foot. "They wouldn't stop.... They're incredibly kind and hospitable and... There's no reason for them... Why are they gone?"
"Four." You reach out and place a hand on his shoulder.
"What happens to them?" His Adam's apple bobs a bit as he sucks in a breath. "It just means there was no one to help them."
"Oh Four." You pull him into a hug and nearly crush him with it.
"There's nothing I can do to help them, is there?" He sniffles into your chest.
"No, I... I don't think so Four. Not that far out into the future." You shake your head and begin to rub circles on his back.
You don't think he's crying but he might be fighting it because he does begin shaking.
He doesn't say anything else and you're loath to let him go when he's so emotionally charged. So you hold him. You hold him for as long as he needs and you wait for him to pull away first.
When he does, you keep your hands on his shoulders and he stays within your reach. Four begins to take deep calming breaths with his eyes closed and you instinctually run your hands through his bangs and push some of the loose hairs from his face.
Minutes continue to pass and the sounds of nature around you fill the void.
"I'm sorry." You say. "I wish I could help you but I don't know how."
Four nods and rubs his eyes. "I don't doubt that. Thank you. I'll be ok."
You don't think he's ready to go back to the group just yet, not after all that. "Tell me more about these friends of yours. How did they help you? How did you help them? What are they exactly?"
It earns you a small laugh and he grins up at you with a watery smile. "Sit down. And let me tell you about the Picori."
Twilight
“You almost died and for what?!” Twilight screams at Wild for the umpteenth time.
It startles you to hear his voice reach such volumes but you’re inclined to agree with him this time around. After Wild’s stunt with taking a hit to the head for Wind, you’d been on the look out for his more... self sacrificing behavior. You knew he wouldn’t think twice to do it and you tried to make it so there wouldn’t even be a chance for him to make such a decision.
This time though, in this last fight, you took your eyes off of him for only a moment and that’s when he broke his streak of uneventful fights.
Twilight, of course, is livid and has no regard for the poor creatures of the forest that have to endure his tirade as he unleashes his concern and worry in the form of rage and over exaggerated gestures.
When Hyrule finishes healing your more minor wounds, you slink away from the soon to be screaming match since Wild is very much still conscious, if a little roughed up. You don’t intended to stray as far as you go but you don’t find it in yourself to care for the time being.
Being around so many people for so long is taxing. You make the executive decision to remove yourself for the time being while tensions are high, to both cool off and to avoid getting hit in the crossfire.
There’s a small creek nearby, you find, and decide to make a small space for yourself there until dinner comes rolling around. The birds and the babbling waters calm your soul and snuffle out the last of the adrenaline. You don’t know how long you sit there, but you can faintly hear the screaming match in the distance that you dipped out of.
You don’t regret it.
More time passes and you find that you may or may not have taken a small nap in the meantime. If the position of the sun is anything to go by.
Despite the pain in your back from sleeping against a tree, the slight ache in your neck from the angle you slept in, you feel better. Clearer, even.
You hope your absence wasn’t entirely noticed but you can’t seem to regret leaving either.
Footsteps creep closer to you and you huddle into a small ball out of habit to avoid detection.
It’s Twilight.
He walks near the creek and takes a heavy seat next to it. He looks both pale or red faced at the same time but exhaustion is laced in his entire body from what you can tell.
He doesn’t notice you.
You uncurl and set your legs out in front of you. Leaning forward a little, as quietly as you can, you see that he’s upset. It doesn’t surprise you. But seeing as you don’t how to deal with an upset Twilight and you can’t really sneak away without crossing his line of sight or making any miniscule noise, you still yourself and wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Twilight calls your name. Quietly and hollow- like he’s not all there. Or in the way one would talk to a memory.
It’s immediately unsettling. Both in how he sounds and how he knew you were there without you doing anything. But you suppose Twilight can just sense things like that from times to time. It’s certainly not the first time he’s done it.
“I’m here.” You reply.
“How long?”
“A few hours I think. Longer than you were here that’s for sure.” You shrug and slowly crawl out of your hidey hole. “I think I fell asleep....The sun wasn’t over there when I first got here.”
Twilights hums in what you think is agreement but it’s really only a sound. “It’s a nice spot.”
You smile. It’s tense and little fake, but he’s not looking at you so you don’t care for authenticity. “Good thing it’s big enough for the both of us huh?”
“Yeah.” He looked into the distance again, noting that the sun is beginning to set and takes a deep breath. “Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?”
“Can’t say that I have.” You move closer to him, aiming to sit by his side. “I’ve always enjoyed sun sets and I find them calming to watch but hearing someone finding them sad is a new one. Do you feel sad as dusk falls?”
He hums again. “They say it’s the only time their world interacts with ours.”
“Whos?”
“Lingering spirits I suppose...” Twilight tilts his head upwards before twisting it to look at you. “It’s nothing. I’m just reminiscing about my life before my adventure is all. My... father told me those words and I haven’t forgotten them since.”
You hum this time and lean back to mirror him. “Wanna tell me why?”
“That Champion reminds me so much of myself and yet... he’s ten times worse.” Twilight falls backwards with a soft thump. “I know why he does it but I...”
“You care about him and don’t want to see him hurt.” You shrug. “It’s not exactly a new concept.”
“Tell that to him.”
“Maybe I will. He gets just as upset as you do when this happens, you know.” You shift your weight to make it easier to stand up later.
“Does he? You’d think that he’d get the point to stop doing then.” He growls.
“Maybe he’s scared of losing more friends.” You blurt before you can stop yourself. That was something Wild told you in confidence and while he didn’t say you couldn’t tell anyone- that was kinda implied.
Twilight stills for a moment, the fight leaving him again in a single breath as he considers your words. They don’t seem to be new news to him.
Wild is pretty close to Twilight...Maybe he already knew.
“I still think I’m entitled to not like it.” He settles.
“It’s not he’s asking you to be ok with it. I know I’m not.”
“I guess that’s fair then.” Twilight sits up again and stands up in one fluid motion that you envy. With a turn on his heel, he holds his hand out to you to take.
You take it and feel him effortlessly lift you off of the ground with that one hand.
You don’t comment on it.
“Come on.” He says. “I’m going to need you for moral support.”
“Why?”
“If I yelled in front of him of the whole group, I should apologize to him in front of the whole group.” He admits and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “But I might need an excuse to get close to him again after all the things I’ve said.”
“I get your desert and you’ve got yourself a deal. I left to not get involved and here you are... involving me.” You tease. “I demand payment.”
“One desert? I can do that.”
Hyrule
“I can’t do this.” You snap your head to the sound of the voice and see Hyrule with his arms cross and shaking.
“What? What’s happening? Hyrule?” You step closer to him as you’re the only one within arms reach. “What do I need to do? How can I help?”
“There’s nothing. Nothing you can do, that can make this better.” Hyrule takes one ground step before throwing his arms down. “Don’t you see them? With all their tools and experience and then there’s- me. Just me. Some magic later and a old man with a sword and I found myself trying to save my princess and defeat some evil, but these guys...”
You look around, trying to see if Legend or Sky are close enough to give you back up, or better yet, take over. You suppose it’s better than a panic attack but it’s so left field that you’re stunned and floundering to catch this hot potato of a conversation.
He keep talking.
“For all that is good and holy, they are heroes. Do you see them? Some of them have training, and families and skills and I....was just a boy in a grave yard. How can I even compete with them? I don’t, that’s how. But how can they consider me an equal? When I was in town and listened to the elders and their stories, they would tell me of a legendary hero from the past who courageously defended our home until the very end and who was virtually undefeated in all his adventures. And then I meet Legend....and he’s so much cooler than all those stories combined.”
“Link.” You call out to him and back to the real world. “You need to slow down for me honey because you’re too fast for me to keep up. What do you mean how can they see you as an equal? You defeated Ganon just as they did. You stood up for your home just as they did. You did it all on your own just as they did. Why wouldn’t they consider you an equal? No one cares about where you’re from, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
“But they can do so many things even without the sword!” He exclaims. “They all have a place to go to, a person who cares about them, a title or a skill and a world that’s not on the brink of collapse-”
“Ok, whoa, hey.” You step into his space and take his face into your hands, bringing it up for him to look you in the eyes.
“I have no idea what brought this up but I won’t stand for anyone talking bad about you. And that includes you. We... can talk about your home with clearer heads later, ok? Maybe the others can help with that when we get there, yeah? And well....” You’re sinking. You don’t know what to do with all this information and you have even less of an idea about how to address it.
“Good golly, when it rains, it pours with you lot, doesn’t it?” You hiss under your breath and bite the bullet. With a strong grip, you wrap your arms around the Traveler and pull him close. You try to keep your grip strong without fear of hurting him, but it hits you then how thin he is. How light he actually is. You can feel the hint of armor under his tunic and it does little to quell your fears.
“Clearly there’s a lot on your mind. And... I’m probably not the person to help you through this. If you want to talk about not belonging though, I’m free to listen. I’m the only one here who’s not a Link, if you haven’t noticed.” You try to joke but it falls a little flat. “You though... You belong here with all of us... all of them... And if you need more convincing then I’m bringing this up with Legend who’s is over the moon proud of you and what you can do and he told me himself that he couldn’t be happier to have you as his successor-”
“Really?”
“Not in those exact words admittedly,-” You gulp as the word vomit continues to bubble out of you in waves of panic. “-but I know that’s what he meant because he doesn’t stop talking about how cool you are.”
“Hm.”
“And everyone has a different background, ok? Everyone has skills and people that the others don’t have. That’s ok. It’s not a competition. I get worried that one day you guys are going to create some game out of all your trauma. Like... who had it worse and just go around in a circle listing off all the things that happened to each of you... Whoever runs out of things to say or can’t think of something as bad or worse than the others is out. Last man standing wins.”
“Don’t give them ideas.” You feel him chuckle. It’s breathless and small and it doesn’t reach your ears despite your closeness but you feel it.
“Good thing it’s just you and me right now.” You sigh a little in relief and loosen the hug. “Look, just.....whatever you think you can’t do, just know that there is someone who is confidently doing it wrong right now. In the group or not, just keep your eyes and watch. They don’t plan on doing it better either and people are celebrating them for it. Please believe in your own excellence as much as they believe in their mediocrity.”
“Big words.”
“You’re awesome for trying. Others are not and don’t plan to. You’re already better than them.” You amend, stepping away to look him in the eye again. “The group can’t do magic like you can. That’s all you. They all have items sure but no one can do what you do... and you’re self taught, right? That’s incredible! You have just as much as a reason to be here as the others. I swear it.”
Hyrule sighs and gulps. He doesn’t believe you. It’s not enough.
You knew it wouldn’t be and it’s definitely doesn’t scratch the tip of the iceberg of the bomb he just dropped on you but... step by step. Little by little. you have a plan.
“Screw it. Let’s catch up with Wind and Warrior and get them to tell you how awesome you are, since you won’t listen to me. And if you’re still a nonbeliever then we move on to the next pair. We’ll go down the line if we have to.” You nod and grab his hand, beginning to drag him along.
He laughs after you, a little hysterical and in disbelief. “You’re crazy.”
“That is not new information.” You reply, hiding your grin. “I say it’s Hyrule loving hours and I’m gonna get everyone to join.”
“You’re not joking are you.” It’s a statement. He already knows the answer.
“Nope!”
Legend
It was your turn on watch for the night. In an hour or two you were supposed to wake the Veteran for his shift and finally catch some sleep.
The others snored and slept away without a care in the world. It was just you and cackling fire that was active but you’d kill for something to help your mind get passed the boredom.
Anything but monsters or an attack that is. You’d hate to jinx your good luck so far.
In the corner of your eye, while fighting to keep your head up, you see Legend shift. Not necessarily unusual. You’re inclined to ignore it.
But then he shifts again, whimpering like he’s been hurt and a white knuckled grip on the blanket.
You still and begin to wonder what’s your level of care here.
Part of you, in kindness, wants to go wake him. The lack of sleep seems more merciful than letting him suffer a prison of his own making.
But you also don’t know how he’ll react.
You know he’d hate to be seen as weak for whatever normal reason and he’s been inclined to wake up swinging in the right circumstance.
Twilight suffered a broken nose for the whole night because he was disinclined to wake up Hyrule or take a potion.
Not you’d make the same decision and suffer the whole night in the same manner but it certainly fails to sound appealing.
Just as your about to appeal to your better nature and force yourself to go wake him before it gets worse, he shoots up into a sitting position with a strangled scream. The job seems to have been done for you- but in the worse way.
He’s breathing hard with his hand gripping his chest. Legend begins to frantically look around and slowly begins to piece together where he is and what’s happened. He never looks behind him, where you are, before running a hand through his hair a little harder than you think reasonable and getting to his feet.
You cough slightly, leaning away from the fire and back into previous position. You hadn’t realized you leaned into his direction as you watched him, inches from putting your face into the flame.
He startles at the sound and whips around, one hand poised to reach the sword he’s not equipped with.
“It’s just me.” You wave. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
He calms somewhat and you can see his jaw flex. “Well, goodnight to you.”
His voice is croaked- from disuse or an overwhelming emotion, you’re not sure.
“For me maybe. But you? That was quite a scare you gave me as well.” You play it off. You can at least pretend that you weren’t watching him. That you would have saved him a little earlier and took your sweet time doing it. You offer a peace offering to your morals. “Want to talk about it?”
“What’s there to talk about?” He snaps, furiously rubbing his face. “It’s nothing new. We all deal with it one way or another.”
“True. But it’ll be easier to let it go, and let the experience float up into the air and never return. Otherwise it’ll fester and grow.” You shrug. “But I won’t force you. I know you’re not exactly fond of me.”
Legend glares into the fire as you talk and refuses to look at you. Once you finish though, he moves his head away, still not in your direction but visually drops more tension from his shoulders.
He doesn’t say anything.
“There’s a spot next to me with your name on it if you want it.” You offer. “A little company wouldn’t hurt.”
He takes more time to respond and you resolve to go back to staring at the fire.
A moment or two passes and you hear the faint sound of crunched foliage. It takes of your will power to not look up as he approaches and even more so when he decidedly sits next to you.
The fabric of his tunic brushes your leg for a minute and it strikes you odd that he sat that close despite the rest of the log at his disposal.
It must have been bad if he wants to be close to someone right after. The thought enters your mind. Once it’s there you don’t chase it away and instead casually lean back with your hand behind you.
If the angle causes you to lean closer to him in the process, you don’t say anything.
And if Legend notices, he doesn’t say anything either.
A moment of time passes in silence, the only sounds through the whole forest are crickets and a passing owl with the occasional whisper through the trees.
“How do you do it?” He asks.
“Do what?” You tilt your head in his direction.
He’s still not looking at you.
“Keep going.”
The answer shocks momentarily but you’re not surprised that it’s coming from him out of the whole group. “Legend-”
“I’m tired.” He says instead. “I hate this. I hate that sword. I hate that pig demon. I hate that I can’t be done.”
You hand comes up to his shoulder and you force him to look at you.
He lets you and he looks up to you with tears building up in his eyes and for a moment you’re struck by the odd balance of how old he sounds but how young he looks- is.
You stuck floundering for a response to answer him with but he asks one more thing. “Why can’t I be done?”
You pull him into a hug before you can stop yourself. “I don’t know. I don’t know Link.”
You find yourself wanting to cry as well once Legend collapses into the hug. He’s not hugging you back but he’s being held for the first time in... you don’t know how long. Your grip tightens.
“But I do know is that you’re not alone. Not anymore. And maybe....maybe this is the final fight. That’s why we’re all together right? A darkness so evil ahead that every hero is required and then....rest. For each and every one of you.”
You sniffle, carding your fingers through his hair without a moments hesitation. “If it’s not then I’ll fight everything for you from then on. I’ll take your place you hear me. I’ll take your job and title and you won’t have to do this anymore.”
“I’m the Hero of Legend. That’s not exactly an easy thing-”
“No. I am the hero now. I’ve decided it.” You hide the tears in his hair to the best of your ability.
Legend snorted, loud and wet but you elected to ignore it just as you were ignoring the ever growing wet spot on your shoulder. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“It does now. I said so.”
A beat.
“...Ok.” He sniffled and rubbed his head on your shirt. He took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the night take over the atmosphere again. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
He nods once, definitive and final. Your expecting him to let go now and return to his roll, already electing to take over his shift as well and just push through the next day.
Except he doesn’t.
Legend calls your name, testing the waters and lifts his head up ever so slightly. “...It’s not that I’m... not... fond of you-”
“Save it for a rainy day.” You grin. “I think you’ve had your fill of emotions for the night.”
He nods and eventually slips into sleep with his head on your chest, no doubt lulled by your heartbeat.
With tearful eyes, you stare back into the fire.
Time
Time marched from the stunned group the same way a parent does after making a scathing remark instead of a lecture.
You know the one.
“I’m not mad. Just disappointed.”
The poor boys suddenly didn’t know what to so with themselves or how to get back into Time’s good graces.
You felt for them and their awkward meandering through the camp. So, with your pride swallowed, you follow in the vague direction where Time went off to and decided to at least talk him down.
He is... decidedly harder to find than you previous imagined.
Just as your starting to think the Old Man doesn’t want to be found, you hear subtle swing. It’s to your left and it sounds heavy.
So naturally you follow it
Which leads you to a small clearing just beyond a bunch of bushes.
Time is there, full armor still on and swinging his giant sword forcefully, each swing stronger than the last. It’s as if it weighs only as much as Four. You’ve wondered in the past what it would like if he decided to actually throw the smallest ones of the group but out of fear, do not voice your ideas.
Just because Time won’t doesn’t mean that the others won’t try.
It’s hard being the responsible one when there are nine Links to take care of, each as much as a gremlin as the last. It must be hell on Time’s back to carry the group.
You see where he’s coming from and yet...
“You can stand to be a little more patient with them.”
The words are out of your mouth before you can actually stop them.
Time stops abruptly, in both the figurative and literal sense, before the man turns to you with that same face of neutral disappointment.
“They are heroes.”
“They are also children, Time. I think that it’s because they are heroes that they deserve to act their age every now and then.”
“Slacking won’t divert the evil away from our home.”
“Running face first into the problem won’t solve it either.” You sigh and walk up the man. He tenses as you approach and slowly lets his weapon down. The Hero of Time is an intimidating creature but you refuse to let that dissuade you.
“Look, I know why you’re upset. I get it. It’s hard to get a job done when you feel like you’re the only one it’s important to... But have a little faith in our group. Please.” You plead and stop right in front of him. You have to look up at him slightly due to the angle but he was forced to acknowledge you here.
His arms cross and he opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off.
“You’re right, they are heroes and there is a job to be done and an evil to be done away with. But they were even younger when they earned the title. They still vanquished the darkness even for their age. You have to trust that they will do the same here.” You reach up and put your hands on his shoulders, getting onto your tip toes to look him in the eye better. “And they will. Because they are heroes. Because they have the spirit of courage. Because they are Link... Just like you.”
He softens his stance ever so slightly but he still doesn’t look pleased.
“It’s not easy I know.” You get down again. “But they look up to you. I think all of them do. And I can’t stand to see how hurt they look when you get upset when they act their age. It’s not like they can help it.”
He takes a deep breath and uncrossed his arms. He takes a minute to respond. Time stared at you intensely before he drops all the tension in his body and finally lets his weapon go. A single hand comes up to pat your head.
“Let’s head back to camp.”
He says nothing else and continues to walk past you and back the way you came.
You don’t ignore the sense of accomplishment and refuse to dampen it when you catch the tiniest slivers of a smile before he turns away from you completely.
Wind
You’re lying peacefully on the dirt when you hear someone sit beside you with more power than would ever be needed.
You don’t open your eyes for the sake of the other person, not really thinking much of it and even forgetting that they were there until you heard the smallest of sniffles.
Now, you’re sitting straight up with wide and concerned eyes locking directly onto the crying form of your beloved pirate.
It’s hard not to feel for him and while you’re not sure what sprung this up, you don’t have it in you to turn him away, or to ignore that he was upset.
Neither of you say anything and you’re almost afraid it make the picture in front of you a little too real.
Instead, you move yourself closer to him and open up your arms.
Wind doesn’t hesitate to throw himself onto you and let his body sag with unwanted emotion.
As sobs silently rack his body, you begin to feel yourself rock back and forth for both his comfort and yours. Soon you start running your hands through his hair and rub small circles on his back.
He cries for a long time and never once gives you a clue why.
You don’t ask either.
Still, once the moment has passed, you continue to hold onto him. He doesn’t make any moves to let go of you any time soon and you’re happy to be there for as long as he’ll let you.
That doesn’t stifle your concern over the cause but you’re loath to bring it up.
Minutes pass with the boy in your arms and it’s only when you shift positions, does he look up at your face. His eyes aren’t as red anymore with the amount of time that’s passes since he’s stopped crying but his face is still a little puffy and his cheeks are both stained in tears and incredibly red.
A small smile creeps onto your face when you look back at him. “Feel better?”
“A little.” He admits and sniffles the last of the tears away, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Thanks.”
“For you? Anytime.”
Warrior
It struck you as odd that it was dinner time the group seemed to be missing someone.
Earlier that day the group had split up to take down some troublesome monsters on the border of some tiny town defenseless town and that was that.
It didn’t seem like big deal nor was it a particularly hard thing to do. The monsters weren’t infected and they didn’t have numbers on their side so your group took care of the pests in a matter of moments.
And yet, when everyone regrouped there was a visible tension.
Some thing had happened on the other side of the fight and no one wanted to fess up, even less so when Time mentioned it.
It worried you.
Now, as it stood the tension was still there but Warrior didn’t want to come out of the wood work. He had left earlier claiming to need to check up on his appearance and no one had questioned him. No one offered to go with him.
It was always dangerous to go alone.
“Hey, has anyone seen Warrior?” You glance around again, hoping it was just a miscount on your part. “It’s been awhile since he left.”
“He takes his sweet time.” Legend snapped. “And you know how narcissistic he is. He’s probably trying to get every single little hair in the right place and working out every little blemish in his stupid uniform-”
“I’m going to look to him.” You stand, placing your cooling food down by your foot. You don’t know what happened or what caused it but at least an idea begins to form. “It’s been too long regardless. Keep my food warm for me, yeah?”
You don’t wait for a response and walk away into the tree line where you think Warrior might be.
“It’s getting dark. Be careful.” Someone calls from behind you, mouth clearly full of food.
“Yes sir.” You reply.
You march on.
When you’re sure you’re far enough away, you begin to call out to Warrior.
It takes a minute to get any results but you’re starting to worry about your friend. The sun is lowering in the horizon as time goes by and you’re beginning to feel silly and frustrated and-
“I’m here.” A tired voice replies.
“Oh thank goodness.” You cross the distance between you two. “I was really starting to worry.”
Warrior puts on a brave face and a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes greets you when you stop in front of him. His look a little puffy and you think his eyes might be a little red but it easily be the lighting- or lack there of.
“Are you ok?”
“Obviously.”
You doubt him and it must have shown on your face because he immediately begins walking away. “Well look at the time. Crazy how fast the sun goes. Let’s get back to the group and eat. I’m starving-”
You grab his wrist as he pasts you and get a good look at him. “Are you ready to go back to the group? They can wait a little longer if you want them too.”
It irritated you that it’s come to this. How no one went to check on him. How no one offered to go with you. How no one seemed bothered by this. How long that he was alone dealing with something that’s been bothering him. How it took you so long to do something.
“No. It’s fine.” He says. Lying. It must have really bothered him, usually he’s better than this. “It’s about time to head back anyway.”
“They can wait.” Your grip tightens. “The sun can wait. We’re not obligated to be there. What’s wrong? ...If you want to talk about it that is...” You trail off uselessly. It only occurred to you that near the end that he may not even speak about with you. You weren’t the closest in terms of grouping but you can’t stand the thought of someone hurting alone.
“I’m fin-”
“You look like you were crying.” You cut him off. “If you don’t want to talk about it with me, that’s fine, just say it. But you might need more time before you head back anyway if you actually want them to believe you when you say you’re fine.”
He sighs and runs his hand through his hair.
“Warrior?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
“If it bothers you then it’s not nothing.” You push. “But....fine. I won’t force you to talk to me. I just wanted to see if you were ok... You’re not but it’s better than seeing you bleeding I suppose.” You grit your teeth, annoyed by the lack of results. You did tell him that he didn’t have to talk to you and you don’t hurt him further but part of you wants to fix this. Even if you don’t know what it is, your heart calls for justice at his pain.
But he is unwilling.
“Camp is this way by the way.” You mention, looking at the ground. “You were actually farther away than I thought, so it’s a bit of a walk.”
“I just think it’s easier for people when I’m not around.”
You still and slowly turn to face him.
He’s looking at the ground as well, unable to say it and look you in the eye. It’s not what you were expecting and you’re not sure how to follow after that.
It’s a rare moment of vulnerability for him- even rarer that he’s showing it to you and you don’t want to squander the show of trust.
“Back home...there was a lot of... attention on me. A lot of blame... for starting the war. Or at least being the cause of it.” He admits, scuffing his shoe against the dirt. A little bit kicks up and sticks to the toe. He does nothing about it. “People listened to what I had to say because I was some destined hero. At first I didn’t think anything of it because I had thought it was one big mistake and sooner or later people were going to see that I was just some soldier not worth the time of day. It happened to be pure luck that Impa got it right when she gave me this uniform. Zelda made me a captain because of it and suddenly I had all of these men I had to give orders to. And if anything failed or if we lost, it would all have fallen on me. The blame, the guilt, the responsibility of the war...and then we found out why Cia was even opening these portals to begin with-”
You hug him.
“Please don’t cry.” You say into his chest. Your throat is tight and it a little hard to breath but you power through. “I’m not good at this. I never have been.”
“I’m not going to cry. It’s not worth crying.”
“I’ll cry for you then.” You admit and hug him tighter. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It was no ones fault.” Warrior hugs you back and rests his head on top of yours. His voice seems a little tight too and you’re sorry for all the things that he must have gone through.
You hug him for as long as you deem appropriate before letting your arms go lack and stepping away.
Or... at least you try to.
Warrior suddenly has a grip on you and refuses to let you leave.
“Please... Just stay a little longer.”
You do.
#linked universe#linkeduniverse#linked universe x reader#I had no idea where exactly to go with this one#believe it or not I wrote Legends first.#I didn't know it would get as long as it did#are these a bit generic?#yes.#warrior's is also very long#sorry not sorry#should I have split this one?#probably.#did I?#no.#it took days ya'll#next time I'll split it again
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Dream A Little Dream of Me: Norman x Reader (Part Three)
-part three is here! I had to slice it in two because apparently there's a certain word block limit (at least on mobile). So get ready for part four!
Summary: You can’t remember anything.
Month four, 08:00
The last thing you recalled was the face of a boy with light hair. His eyes were bright, swirling with love and affection you looked for everyday. Whenever you woke up, you couldn’t remember his name, or his sweet voice that called out to you in your dreams.
All you had was the light of day and the rising sun. It made you sad to look upon it alone in your room. Someone else were supposed to be by your side, right next to you. But who?
And then there was the absence of a motherly figure--a woman you only recalled through song. How was it you remembered that melancholy tune but not a name or face? You wished you knew, and you prayed everyday to whoever was up there to give you another chance. Another go at life--with the people you never knew the names of.
“Good morning, Letha.”
You met the old man’s gaze with a simple nod. His crinkly voice was one of the things you actually didn’t mind, even if it was hard to hear at times.
The old man, Alex, was kind, but the most you conversed about were your lost memories, your insane knacks for weapons, chess, and lastly, intelligence.
Time wasn’t friendly, and a month passed uneventfully. It turned into two, which turned into three and so on. Every now and then, you wondered if you’d stay like that: a blank slate. Alex said there was this one philosopher who called it a ‘tabula rasa’. For some reason, that fact reminded you of someone long ago.
Dark hair, the smell of old books, dust hidden between bookshelves...
You began to make out the image of a boy. He was no older than you, with cool eyes, a warm, yet small smile. Who was he? His name was at the tip of your tongue, yet it wouldn’t come out.
Ren? Reylo? Tired Cyclops? No, that wasn’t it. Obviously.
It hurt to think too much about it, and before you could grasp onto it, the memory faded, along with the name.
“Don’t think too hard,” Alex warmly said. “I’m sure it’ll come with time.”
He hoped to help you recover your lost memories, but in the meantime, he’d do his best to support you, just as he’d done with his long, dead daughter. For that reason, he felt it was time to bring you to the world outside. In this town you both resided in, everyone died in a war.
Alex was the only survivor.
For that reason, he was the only person you ever got to know these past seven months. There was no one your age around here, and it wasn’t like you went far anyway. Every now and then, Alex brought you a few towns over to experience a nice train ride to his favourite shops. Then he’d buy you something and take pictures.
But now? He felt it was time to take it a step further. He wasn’t sure if you’d like the idea, but it was worth a try.
SEVEN MONTHS LATER, 06:28
“Come again?” you inquired. Alex took a sip of his coffee and stood from the chair. The wooden floorboards of the cabin creaked under his weight. He waddled over to the window, drawing open the plaid curtains. Warm rays of sunlight fluttered upon your face and Alex smiled warmly like he always did.
“It’s time you get out more,” he said, “and experience the world outside this old town. I want you to look across the horizon because there’s more than the cabin.” You knitted your brows together. You didn’t like how cryptic he was being. It reminded you of someone you once knew, someone who you held close to your heart.
“Gramps, what are you trying to say?”
Alex heaved in a long breath, as if he were afraid of saying it himself. “I want you to go to school. College, if you want the specifics.” Your eyes doubled in size and you hoped, prayed, that he would take it back and say it was a joke. College? You didn’t need a degree! And besides, it was expensive. You couldn’t afford something like that. But alas, Alex wasn’t one to joke about serious things like that. He was an old man, so he always meant what he said.
This time was no different.
“You mean it,” you practically whispered. “That you want me to go to college.” Alex nodded, absentmindedly running a hand through his thick, white beard. There was a long pause and you took the time to sip your tea. Would school benefit you in some way? Was it worth the time? The work?
It didn’t make sense. You were smart. Alex said it himself: “I haven’t met anyone as smart as you”. So why did he want to send you to school? It had to be more than just to “meet people” because you did that all the time on the train every few days.
“What’s so good about college, Gramps? We can’t afford to pay for something so expensive. I don’t want to see you in debt just because of me.”
Through your calm façade, Alex noticed the spark of uncertainty in your eyes. Throughout the long days he got to know you, he realised one thing: you were never keen on showing your emotions.
“I want to give you an opportunity to find yourself,” he finally replied. “If the people you knew are around your age, then going to school might bring something back. You know, jog your memories. Besides that, I want you to have a life more than that I can offer. There’s nothing in this small town.”
“I don’t know about that. I have you here. You’re all I know, Gramps.”
Alex knitted his bushy brows together. “I know, but I can’t always be the only one you know. Don’t you want to see the world?”
It wasn’t that going to college was excruciatingly disappointing, only that it was a means of giving out false hope. How could you cling onto something so child-like and unreliable?
Hope could only get people so far. You were no different.
That night, you lay in bed, wide awake. A nagging thought kept pulling at the back of your mind, repeating itself over, and over, and over again until you couldn’t stand the phrase. But as soon as you repeated it with your own lips, it vanished as if it never existed.
You lay in bed for a little longer, fighting the lull of sleep. It pulled on your eyes, and your head nodded as you forced down a yawn. Sleep was for the weak. If you stayed awake a little longer, maybe you might remember something, right?
-----
The grass tickled your bare feet. If it were any normal day, you would have liked to lay down in its warm embrace with Emma, Ray and Norman. You could watch the clouds together, and wonder about life outside these concrete walls.
But that was stupid to think about, wasn’t it? The liberty to relax and do absolutely nothing had been striped from your very being, like the air that you gasped and chocked on. You held your shoes tightly to your chest and frantically glanced past your shoulder. Good. All clear, just how you liked it.
Norman and Emma lay a couple hundred meters behind. They were your eyes, the two little owls that perched high above with all-seeing eyes. With a grunt, you hopped over a thick tree root and tossed aside your shoes. They landed somewhere in the brush, right where the trees parted.
You came to a stop and glared at the concrete wall towering over you. If you completed your mission and everything remained as straight-forward as you wanted it to be, then you’d escape with everyone. Just like Emma wanted. Just like you tried so hard to believe.
But what if something happened? What if Don and Gilda were caught? Or worse, what if Mama suspected that Ray betrayed her? Surely she wouldn’t go as far as to eliminate him on the spot...
...right?
You clenched a fist so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Stop. Stop it, you told yourself. You had to have faith in your family. They were just as capable as you, maybe even more, so they’d have no issues. You had to focus on your job so they could do theirs.
“My, so this is where you’ve run to?”
You sucked in a sharp breath.
No, that couldn’t be. You made sure she wouldn’t know where you were. You told all the precautions, too. Were Emma and Norman okay? What about Ray? And Don and Gilda?
“I’m surprised you managed to make this far.” Mama stiffly said. “You never were as strong as Emma, or fast either.”
It was like the sun stopped shining. Your blood ran cold. The warm rays turned to ice.
“It’s not too late to turn back (Y/n).” Her voice was silky smooth, tempting almost, as if she were coaxing a frightened sheep to the slaughter. “You’ve improved, my dear, but is it enough? Once your plan crumbles, what will you do then? It wouldn’t be a bad idea to become a mama. It’s the reliable path. You will survive and you will be happy.”
For a moment, you wondered if she actually cared about you. Maybe her love was all fake from the beginning and she didn’t care about you. Or your family. Or anything but survival in this cruel world.
You never loved us.
That was what you wanted to say, yet the words stuck in your throat like glue. If she didn’t love you, then why did she hold you so tightly when you had a nightmare? If she didn’t love you, then why did her eyes shine with pride when you got perfect scores?
“Come, my dear,” Mama coaxed. “Let’s go home.”
The sudden urge to laugh bubbled in your throat like lava.
Home? This was a prison in disguise.
It’s not too late to turn back? A lie.
It wouldn’t be a bad idea to become a mama? As if.
You couldn’t afford to betray your family. Not after all you’ve done, and not after all the effort. They relied on you. You weren’t going to let them down.
You turned on your heel to face Mama. She smiled at you, but it wasn’t a nice smile. It made your stomach twist and turn, reminded you just how much of a danger she could be. Your gaze focused past her shoulder, where a familiar head of orange stood.
Emma peeked out from behind the trees and held up the bag of rope. Norman stood from a cluster of bushes and motioned the the wall. They were going to climb it while you distracted Mama. Perfect.
A bright grin broke out onto your lips. “I’m sorry Mama.” you began.
She stood like a statue with wide eyes. “Are you now?” she inquired. You were finally conceding in this fiery war of wits. After all that fuss and now would she have you back by her side? She opened her arms to welcome you. It was all she could do with her prized little girl. Finally you were being smart. Finally you were choosing the reliable path. You were going to follow in her footsteps. Survive. And outlive everyone in this house like she had.
But then something happened. Emma burst from the bushes, followed by Norman who helped throw the rope up a nearby branch. That triggered you into action, and you lunged at Mama with all the strength you could muster.
“I will never--!”
You wrestled for her watch.
“--ever--!”
Mama tugged on your little arms.
“--leave my family behind!”
You yanked the stupid watch out of her hands, but just as you stood, Mama grasped onto your leg and tugged. Hard. She gave it a squeeze, and a sickening crack echoed in your ears. You screamed. Your ears rung and you heaved in a strangled breath.
“You should have taken the reliable path.” Mama’s calm voice made you want to vomit. “None of us would be here if you had listened to your mama.”
-----
Your eyes shot open and you jolted awake. The faces, the voices, the senses--they flashed before you in a whirl of colours and sounds. Why couldn’t you recall who they were? Or what their names were? You knew every single one of them by heart, yet your mind lay completely blank. Again.
The urge to punch your mattress overwhelmed your senses.
“Good morning,” came Alex’s crinkly voice. That snapped you out of your frustrated stupor. He stood in the doorway, a warm smile on his lips and a spatula in hand. “Pancakes are almost done. Today we’ll get you settled in your dorm.”
Oh. Right. Gramps was sending you to a boarding school. The thought of leaving your beloved bed left you queasy and sluggish. Why should you go somewhere so far away from this cozy, little cottage? It was only recently that you settled here too. Maybe Gramps was taking it too fast.
With a heavy heart, you lugged yourself out of bed and threw on a pair of warm clothes. The unforgiving climate of this land was not one you would challenge. Ever.
The moment you emerged from your room was the moment you understood Gramps’s insistence. He meant well, you knew, but in a way you didn’t appreciate. Going out gave you a higher chance of meeting whomever you knew. It was completely logical.
“Are you worried?” Gramps began, placing a stack of pancakes on your plate. “I’ve already informed your school teachers of your amnesia, so they’ll understand. As for your dormitory, everything has been set. And don’t forget your breakfast, lunch, and dinner plans, as well as your--”
“You seem more anxious than me, Gramps.” you said with a subtle smile. He stared at you, wide-eyed until he mirrored you with a chuckle. “I suppose you’re right. I just want to make sure the transition goes smoothly.”
“Of course.”
“And that you’re safe and okay.”
“Gramps--”
“And that you won’t have to worry about a thing.”
“--the pancake’s burning.”
That set him off. He jolted out of his chair faster than his age and capabilities should have allowed. It was a miracle too, because the poor pancake was seconds away from catching fire on the pan. A long sigh left Gramps’s lips as he turned off the stove. “I think I’ll give this to the birds.”
“You best do that, because I won’t eat that piece of charcoal.”
You shared a quick chuckle between each other, savouring the warmth and comfort that came. If someone else had found you that day in the field of endless grass, you weren’t sure if you’d be so lucky. It was by chance Gramps was the one to discover you, so you couldn’t imagine life otherwise.
Once your pancakes were gone and your bag all packed, you traveled to the train station in the early rays of sun. Gramps was the type of enjoy the silence of nature, but to you, it was excruciating.
It didn’t matter where you went. Each time, you looked past your shoulder, to the fading mountains, to the little rabbits that scurried by. It was like you were on survival mode. But why should you be when there was nothing out here? It was so peaceful, so wonderful that you couldn’t imagine anything coming out to get you.
Smile. It’s okay, I promise. I’m here.
You froze and glanced past your shoulder towards the rolling hills and the fading grass. That voice--you knew it. But had you dreamed it up? There was no one here but you and Gramps. A short sigh left your lips and all Gramps could do was ruffle your hair comfortingly.
The train ride was nice. With the calm chugging and the way it swayed, you didn’t mind it at all. Every now and then, your eyes fluttered open and closed. Maybe you were tired. Maybe you weren’t a morning person. Whatever the reason, you submitted to the lull and closed your eyes.
-----
Not a single soul moved for what felt like centuries. The moment Ray, Gilda and Don arrived at the scene, it was clear that nothing else could be done. Mama smiled at her children viciously. She wasn’t here to play nice any longer. Today, she was the hunter and her children the prey.
“It was a clean break. She will recover smoothly,” Mama curtly announced. “And Norman?”
You didn’t like the way she looked at him, or the way her grip seemed to tighten on your limp arms. Her gaze dangerously narrowed and she said, “Your shipment date has been set.”
Your heart stopped and your blood ran cold. Norman’s shipment date had been set? No, that couldn’t be. Your plan required at least another week until everything fell into place. Norman was the core of it all. Without him, what would you do?
And speaking of which, he was going to die.
Die.
Die.
Die.
He was going to die.
You squirmed in Mama’s grasp, hoping--praying that you could maneuver around this. Norman wasn’t going to die. You wouldn’t let him.
“Let me--let me go!”
It was reckless and it was stupid to think he’d be able to evade Mama’s sight just like that, but you had to try. Didn’t Emma say you’d all leave here together? “Norman--!”
He blinked as if he’d woken up from a long dream. The forced smile the sprouted on his lips looked painful. Don’t struggle, it said.
Don’t struggle? How did he expect you to sit around and do nothing? If anyone should be shipped out first, it should be you. Why? Because you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you let any of your family go.
Mama glared down at you with a cold smile. “You can’t fight me more than you can stop the sun from setting,” she said, heaving you higher off ground. Your leg hit her arm and a cry escaped your lips. Norman flinched and Emma remained frozen in place.
You were always the strong one, not Emma, not Ray, and not Norman. Because you were one of the eldest, it was your responsibility to be the shoulder to cry on and to stand when no one else could. To see you holding back tears and gritting your teeth tight enough to make your gums bleed made Norman’s little heart break.
He didn’t care about his shipment date. All he wanted was to see you safe.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of faces, voices and regrets. The sharp pain in your leg long faded, leaving only a dull throb that stayed as a reminder of your failure. Yes, that was what you were, right? You couldn’t complete the plan even with Don, Gilda and Ray distracting Mama. You were pathetic. A waste of space.
The door creaked open and you sat up a little straighter. You smiled at the trio as they entered the room. “Hey guys.”
“How are you feeling?” inquired Norman. He took a seat by your bedside and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Ray pulled up another chair. He hid his face behind his fringe to conceal his grim frown. It didn’t work though, and you merely smiled at him. He huffed irritably, as if he didn’t want you to know he worried so much.
“I didn’t think she’d go that far.” Ray quietly muttered. You knitted your brows together with a absentminded shrug. “And to think I was that close to getting her watch.” Emma’s shoulders sagged. “I wish I had--”
“It’s fine Emma.” you said with a warm smile. “Broken bones heal, it’s not permanent.” She looked like she wanted to say something, but with the warm smile on your face, she couldn’t gather the courage to. Instead, she settled for a tight hug.
It was hard to look her in the eye anyway. The sadness she tried so hard to force down only added to your guilt, and you weren’t sure if you could think straight with all the regret.
“I’m sorry this happened.” you began. “Now that I’m hurt, you’re worrying for me.”
Emma pulled away as Norman gave a firm shake of his head. “None of this is anyone’s fault.” he stated. "None of us saw that coming, and even if we did, I’m not sure we’d be any good outwitting Mama on the spot like that.” He offered a gentle smile that made you feel just a little bit better.
-----
Gentle smiles. A warm summer breeze. Soft kisses. Tender touches. That was what reminded you of the boy in your dreams. Although you couldn’t recall his face every time you awoke, you remembered the fact that he was handsome and kind.
Gramps offered a warm smile. “Good morning.” You covered your yawn with a hand. “I’m assuming we’re here?”
He nodded. “Are you excited?” It was obvious Gramps knew the question. He only wanted to hear the answer from your mouth rather than from an assumption. As much as you wished to be excited for such a grand opportunity, you weren’t sure you’d like school. Well, how could you guess when you’ve never been to school in the first place?
At least from what you could recall.
“I still don’t know how to feel about this,” you quietly say. Gramps guides you along the walkway and out of the train, where you step out of the station and to the bustling streets of the city. You frown. Gramps said you were going to a boarding school, was it supposed to be somewhere as crowded as here?
From what you read, boarding schools needed large spaces to accommodate dormitories, classrooms, and sports fields. Was there such a thing as space in this congested collection of skyscrapers?
You shook your head to yourself and followed Gramps down whatever path his old-fashioned map led him to. He walked slow. Too slow for your liking. Not only that, but with all the people around, you couldn’t bear not to stick close to his side. What if he got lost? What if you got lost? Or kidnapped and sold on the black market for organs?
Maybe you were just paranoid.
The looming skyscrapers offered no comfort, and the cool breezes that sent shivers down your spine weren’t helping either. You hopped over a patch of ice and pulled your jacket closer just as Gramps came to a stop.
A lot of land stood in the middle of all the skyscrapers, where a pale field of grass stretched out over the acres of land. Buildings that looked like castles peppered themselves out in the form of classrooms, mess halls, and corridors.
You stood in the shadow of the tall brick walls. It separated the school from the rest of the city. An overwhelming feeling of bittersweet hope filled your system, as if you’ve stood in front of a wall like this before. Had you been here? No. You were sure this was your first time seeing the school.
“Take care Letha.” Gramps said. “Don’t forget to eat and exercise, as well as make some new friends. I expect you to call at least once a week, just so I know you’re doing fine.” You smiled a little, cheeks warm in embarrassment. “Gramps, I’m old enough to take care of myself.”
“I know, I know. Just...this is a big step for you.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“Be careful, and have fun. Even if you don’t remember anything, as long as you have fun, it’s fine.” He wrapped you in a tight hug. “And most importantly, I love you Letha.”
You basked in the warmth of his arms. You didn’t need to worry about your memories in that moment because you had Gramps. He was your world. Your family. What more could you ask for? But then he pulled away, and the warmth didn’t linger.
You were still incomplete.
The next day, you found yourself wandering the halls aimlessly, picking apart each detail and escape route in sight. The hall to your left had an exit to the school courtyard, a peaceful place with metal chairs and picnic tables. To your right sat another hall, which also had an exit to another courtyard. Then in front of you stood the front entrance, where the side exits fanned out in the halls next to it.
“Hey, you’re the new girl, right? Letha Meek-aye...Mikhaylov?”
You spun around faster than the speed of light. In front of you stood a girl, perhaps a year older with an unfriendly frown. She wore the generic school uniform: black skirt, long socks, white blouse, gray sweater vest, and a tie. Her bright, red locks stood out like a sore thumb. They curled past her shoulders in beach waves, framing her narrow, freckled face in rouge.
For a moment, you blanked out. When was the last time you spoke to someone, much less a teenager your age? Even though this girl wasn’t intimidating, it wasn’t like you wanted to talk to her. The point of coming here was to figure out if anything jogged your memory and then leave. It wasn’t playtime. “I’m new.” Your voice came out calmer than you felt. “Is that an issue?”
Despite the pointed look on her face, you had a feeling she was one of the nicer people in the area. She had a soft look in her green eyes, as if she understood what it felt like to be a new kid. “I’m Flanna Morris,” she said with a small smile. “Nice to meet you Letha.”
Flanna had an accent. By the hard ‘r’s and the elongated ‘oo’ sounds, you guessed she had to be from Ireland. Gramps told you it wasn’t too far from here, but still a while away.
You sent Flanna a cautious side eye. She was being too friendly. “Yeah, nice to meet you too...Flanna.” A hearty laugh that bellowed in her stomach echoed in the quiet corridors. “Look,” she said, “I’m not here to bully you. I just wanted to offer some help.”
Help? Yeah right. No one in this world offered help without asking for something in return. Besides Gramps maybe--but he was a special case, it didn’t count.
“Come on, I’ll show you around Letha.” The look on Flanna’s sweet face made it hard to decline. If you weren’t interested in seeing if there were any places you missed, then you would have declined. But perhaps Flanna could show you more than the shallow surface of this boarding school.
You passed to through the quiet corridors, where the sun shone through the windows overlooking the street. The sun rose over the horizon and up the edge of the skyscrapers’ base. Cars bustled about, and even through the thick brick walls, you heard all the honking and yelling of the early morning traffic.
“So, where’re you from?” Flanna inquired. You tugged on the strap of your bag’s shoulder strap. “Far away.”
“What do you mean by ‘far away’?”
“I mean the countryside.” you clarified. Flanna ‘ohhh’ed. “The city must be a huge change for you then, I know it was for me.” You knitted your brows together. So she was from the countryside in Ireland? That’s more than a simple change of scenery. No wonder Flanna wanted to help you.
“Okay, so here’s the science hall. Ms. Darsey is one of the best teachers you can have around. You’re a juniour, right? I’m a senior--if you couldn’t already tell...”
Flanna talked a lot. No, she didn’t just love talking, she loved explaining all her experiences with x, y, and z teacher, as well as what classroom and what day of the month it was. She had a wonderful memory, you had to admit, but that made her stories long. Her energy was like a breath of fresh air, and that red hair of hers sparkled like jewels in the morning light.
Flanna’s hair was fiery just like a girl’s you used to know. Her face wasn’t clear in your mind whenever you thought of her, but the joy she always brought you stayed. It made your heart warm. Flanna seemed to have a similar effect, but not as strongly as the girl you once knew.
“You have Mr. Dursley for English,” she noted. “Make sure you don’t stick out. He’s a big pain and if you’re late, he’ll give you a detention.” You raised a brow. Mr. Dursley detained teenagers for being late? What kind of nonsense was that? You decided to phone Gramps later and ask him if that were true. He’d know. Hopefully.
The look on your face made Flanna chuckle, but you had a feeling she didn’t understand your thought process. “Don’t worry,” she casually said. “You’ll be fine. I bet’cha Connor and James will be the first to get a detention. They’re both trouble makers--little devils. Especially James.” You stared up at Flanna’s bright, green eyes. They sparkled like the sun against her hair. You’ve seen that look before, the one of unsaid love and adoration. Long ago, someone looked at you like that.
But who?
You wracked your brain for answers. It was on the tip of the tongue. Right there--just in front of you. Yet it was as if something were preventing you from seeing the truth. The one postulate you knew stuck throughout the days you’ve forgotten who you once were.
Backtrack. Backtrack.
A boy. Light hair. Soft eyes. Kind smile. A laugh that was like music. And the calling of your name.
“(Y--n)!”
Yes, that was the sound of his voice, right? Or maybe it was a stranger’s instead, someone’s you’ve heard on the street. Then whose name was that? Was it even a name to begin with? Maybe it was a word instead and you misheard it as a name. That thought made your heart throb in the worst way possible. Ice filled your veins, and you found yourself pausing to stare out the crystal, clear windows.
“Something wrong?” Flanna inquired. You blinked away the haze and turned to her with a shake of your head. “Just nervous.” A bright smile burst onto Flanna’s lips. “Ah, I see. No worries, you’ll do great. And if you don’t it’s your first day, right? Nothin’ wrong with messin’ up a little.”
You wished you could believe Flanna, but something deep in your heart said otherwise. A slip-up could cost someone more than their reputation. Possibly their life. You couldn’t speak from experience, but you were sure you’d seen a sacrifice. Long ago. Far away in the distance.
Flanna stopped in front of your first period class. “We still have about fifteen minutes before school starts. Everyone’s probably in the cafeteria eating breakfast or fooling around in the field. I recommend you come early to class so you don’t get caught up in the crowd.” And with that, she waved, turning on her heel to hurry away. “I’ll see you during lunch! We have it together, so I’ll come find you in the cafe!”
She rounded a sharp corner and disappeared, leaving you alone in the quiet hall. You peeked in through the open door. At a long desk sat a teacher, who stood at the notice of your presence. She wore thin glasses on her old squarish face, a white blouse with a tie, a woolen navy blazer, and black trousers with heels to match.
The teacher had a kind face, with eyes that were soft with years of wear and tear. The smile on her lips said it all--she had seen things. Many things. “Welcome, I assume you’re Letha Mikhaylov?” She had a crinkle in her voice like the edges of her eyes when she smiled. It complimented her kindly face.
“Yes.” you replied. “That’s me.”
“Well I’m Mrs. Walker.” She motioned for you to come in, that sweet smile still on her lips. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve been informed that you have amnesia. May I ask how much you remember?” You folded your hands together. It was the least you could do to look less nervous.
“I remember skills, knowledge, and the arts. I do not recall my original name or what my life was like before, but I am still highly-functional. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Walker. ”
The way you worded your sentences was off-putting to the teacher. It wasn’t normal for high school students to be so in-line, much less well-off with their manners.
From the report she read, you were taken in by Alex Mikhaylov, a writer who lived in an old, deserted town. He claimed he’d been trying to help you re-gain your memories for nearly a year, but from the looks of it, there wasn’t much to go off of.
Mrs. Walker took a seat at her neat desk. A pencil sharpener sat at the corner along with a tissue box, stapler, tape dispenser, and a plastic name plaque. In bolded letters it said, Mrs. Walker. Of course, in cursive. A few photos were cramped by her computer, where she stood there, smiling with a young girl and a man. Mrs. Walker looked to be around twenty-eight to thirty in that photo.
You stood by her desk awkwardly. Were you supposed to sit in the back? Near the window? Or in the front? The sinking feeling of unfamiliarity plagued your mind as you ran a hand through your locks.
There weren’t any other students here besides you.
“You may take a seat wherever you’d like Letha,” Mrs. Walker said. “I do not assign seats in this class, but if there is an issue, I can if you’d like. Is there anything I should know about you?” You shook your head and took a seat by the window. The football fields, frost-bitten and white, stretched out as far as the eye could see. A little to the left of that were the dormitories. Red brick walls and sparkling clean window panes, just like every other building at the school.
Winter was a wonderful season, but you wished it weren’t so cold all the time. Maybe if there were a bit of snow, it would cheer you up, jog your memory even. “I’m not sure if I have anything of importance.” Your voice echoed in the deserted classroom like a bell. “But I hope I can do my best.”
A smile broke out onto Mrs. Walker’s lips. “Don’t hope, do.”
And so you did. You vowed to do what you could with whatever you could. You weren’t going to hope to do your best, or hope to find your memories because you would. They’d come back to you, and you were going to do everything in your power to get them back.
PART FOUR COMING SOON [GIVE ME LIKE THREE DAYS TO ADD A BONUS PORTION BECAUSE I LOVE YOU GUYS] -->UPDATE: PART FOUR HERE <--
#tpn#tpn norman x reader#tpn ray#tpn emma#ynn norman#ynn emma#ynn ray#ynn isabella#ray the promised neverland#emma the promised neverland#norman the promised neverland#the promised neverland x reader#anime x reader#x y/n#fanfic#tpn fanfic
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Having surgery scars
Masterlist
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Bang Chan
° You had no idea about Chan's crush on you, not many people did. The only person who knew about his crush was himself and his best friend Felix. You never thought he could love you due to how you saw yourself.
° You never wore cropped tops or anything that had the chance of rising up too high, even during the summer. He knew about your scar, but never saw it or knew how much you hated it.
° One day he was going to visit you by surprise, using the spare key you gave him to his advantage. You walked out in a cropped pajama shirt and underwear, not expecting your best friend/crush to be in the room.
° You scar was on your stomach, it was deep and noticeable to whoever walked by when itt wasn't hidden under clothes. You thought it gave off a negative impression, while Chan thought it gave you a unique beauty.
° Before you could cover yourself up, Chan gently embraced you in a hug. Calming your conscious, his fingers gently tracing over the scar. He placed multiple kisses to your head, asking you why you are so self conscious.
"Why can't you see how beautiful you are?"
Lee Know
° You were very clumsy all throughout your life, constantly falling and running into things. But the worst scenario bad to be when you fell and someone kicked you straight in the face.
° This led to you having to get surgery on your broken nose, leaving a scar on the right side of your bridge. It wasn't overly noticeable unless you were very close to your face, which Minho happened to be.
° He wondered how he never noticed this scar before, especially since he loves giving you kisses on the top of your nose. He knew you were clumsy, but wondered how your only scars ended up in such a specific place.
° Minho gently traced over the scars, finding it cute how you scrunch your nose immediately at the touch of his fingertips. Before you scrunched your nose, he noticed that your nose must've been stitched.
° He assumed you did this by accident, by either falling or hitting your face with something. Minho was surprised to hear that someone did this to you intentionally, wondering why someone would hurt you.
"I'm losing hope in humanity at this point."
Changbin
° You has multiple scars on your arms due to an accident you had as a child, this is why you'd constantly wear long sleeve outfits. Feeling that people may become worried or grossed out if they ever saw them.
° But after being asked out by Changbin, you knew you couldn't hide your scars from him for too much longer. He didn't seem suspicious of your long sleeves, until you spent your first summer together.
° You were both sweaty messes who were slumped in front of multiple fans, he was just in his boxers while you had no pants but still your long sleeve shirt. You were turning red by how hot you were becoming.
° He looked at you astonished as how you hadn't passed out from the heat yet, but Changbin was mostly worried since he knew it wouldn't be long til you hit that point. So he moved the fan closer to you.
° You had enough of the heat, telling him to look away as you took of your shirt. Turning your back to him once you said it was okay to look. Changbin noticed your arms even if you tried to hide them, they were gorgeous.
"You will always be a super model to me."
Hyunjin
° You had a few scars on your neck, and you were embarrassed to admit where they came from. Even if you were close to Hyunjin and loved him dearly, you still felt silly admitting it came from a drunk bar fight.
° Hyunjin was curious to where the scars came from, but didn't want to pressure you into telling him in case it was from something traumatic. So instead he would just press soft kisses along the scars.
° You felt bad when he admitted ab embarrassing story of his to you, since he was revealing a moment that stuck with him in a bad way. Yet you were still hiding your scar story from him as he waited patiently.
° His puppy eyes and sweet smile made its mark on your heart, the story leaving your mouth hesitantly. You couldn't look him in the eyes, your cheeks were bright red from embarrassment. You felt stupid.
° He stroked your heated cheeks, turning your head so you'd make eye contact. All of your worries washed away when there wasn't a hint of judgement in his eyes. Only pure love and adoration were held in them.
"I won't judge a simple drunken accident."
Han
° You had scars all over your hands from a burning accident with a kettle, you were self conscious of your hands. But tried to hide those feelings when around other people, not wanting to make them worried.
° But your best friend Jisung noticed when something bothered you, your shimmering eyes would dimmer whenever someone would give you nicknames like 'Freddy Kruger' or 'The human torch'.
° Jisung loved you, even if you were too dense to catch onto that fact. He loves you and wouldn't let someone make you feel like garbage, which led to him defending you countless times throughout the years.
° You had this one fake friend that always rubbed him the wrong way, she would go out of her way to make fun of you and praise herself. Calling you ugly, and getting grossed out whenever you touched something.
° During a game of truth or dare, she dared anyone in the room to hold hands with you. No one was stepping forward, until Jisung crawled over. He didn't just hold them, but he also placed kisses along your knuckles.
"I would've done this without the dare."
Felix
° You were never self conscious over the scars on your legs, if anything Felix usually had more self doubt moments about himself than you did about yourself. Which led to you giving this angel SO MUCH LOVE. (He deserves the world ngl)
° But when visiting Felix back stage, a make up artist mistook you as an idol and suggested finding something to cover your scars. This left an unfamiliar sting to your heart, never thinking it was an issue.
° You say in one of the chairs back stage, placing your coat over your legs as you awaited your boyfriend. It wasn't long before Stray Kids were ushered to where you were sitting, all of them hyped and energetic.
° Felix knew you well, immediately suspicious as to why you were hiding your legs. He had many scenarios in his head, you were cold, period problem, hiding a present, no underwear. His mind was racing.
° But when he saw your sad smile, he knew it had something to do with your scars. Someone must've said something insensitive, and they hurt his favorite person. This wasn't the first time this happened.
"Don't hide your beauty from me, lovely."
Seungmin
° Seungmin witnessed how you got a scar on your back, you were running to catch the bus when you tripped over your feet and rammed into the glass of the bus station waiting area. Causing many gashes to appear.
° He rushed you to the hospital, watched the stitches and bandages go on, helped you up from the bed, helped you go to sleep, gave you medication for the pain. He made sure you were in perfect condition.
° Seungmin felt terrible that you got so severely injured, even though he couldn't do anything to prevent it from happening. He still felt guilty, even when you reassured him that it will be okay and will just leave scars.
° Scars were left on your back, and everytime he witnessed them he felt a slight ping to his heart. Wishing he could've done something to help you, but he doesn't want to relive that moment so he tries to ignore it.
° You asked Seungmin for a massage after a long day, laying down on the couch as he sat on top of your legs. His hands traced down your scars, rubbing the oils onto them gently as if they still hurt you.
"You look like a cute little tiger cub."
Jeongin
° You sometimes forgot that you had scars on your thighs, only remembering them if you see them. They don't effect you in any way, especially since they came form a bike accident when you were very young.
° You and Jeongin both had long days at work, so you both wanted to have a relaxing bath together. This was one of the moments where you forgot about your scars, until Jeongin pointed them out.
° He was worried they were recent, concerned if someone did this or if you did it to yourself. But you calmed him down with a kiss, before explaining it was from an accident with a bike when you very young.
° Jeongin covered you in bubbles, before cupping water in his hands and washing them away. He started around your thighs, rubbing them lightly after they were washed off. He felt a bit bad for bringing them up.
° You did the same treatment for Jeongin, relaxing in his arms for a while until the water was beginning to cool. He dried you off, playfully whipping your thighs with the towel, giggling as you stared in shock.
"It's part of my drying treatment baby."
#stray kids#kpop#changbin#skz scenarios#stray kids reactions#han jisung#hyunjin#jeongin#lee know#bang chan#felix skz#skz seungmin#skz requests#skz reactions
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the wishlist (m) - 4
“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”
> genre : smut, fluff
> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)
> total words : 4.7k
> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; sextoys talk; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity ; awkwardness
previous - next
The issue is that Jungkook -and you're not a bitch for thinking that- is a little bit of an idiot.
He can be very smart. He can be wise and present unsuspecting resources and knowledge. He can teach you things you don't know anything about, figure out others you struggle to -but not during stressful times like for say an escape game because during those, he turns absolutely, utterly useless.
But he is an idiot too. An idiot that sometimes shapes situations and conclusions and ideas in a very peculiar way that is very singular to him.
That’s precisely what happens then. He plays his role right, to its full extent, with great dedication and commitment. Except he missed a memo, misread the script and ends up playing a role that's not the one you planned for him. He believes that he’s your new adult toy provider (as if there is such a thing).
When you think he’s coming over to share a meal or play some game or binge-watch a series you promised to wait for him to experience together, he has a box hidden in his pocket or carried under his arm.
He has the decency to not comment on it the first time around. He just set it down on the coffee table, between the bowl of chips and the one filled with guacamole. You see the logo on top of it. You recognize the design, reffined, minimalist with the pretty pastel matte colour.
He probably identifies the shame and the annoyance on your face, painting your cheeks and reshaping your eyebrows, and doesn’t say anything. Simply smiles to himself and starts talking about the series’ new episode that’s about to start.
It takes a lot of efforts, coming from you, to ignore the conspicuous object sitting just in front and in between you. But eventually, probably because more than a decade of friendship with this guy have grown impressive mind muscles on you, you manage to make abstraction of it.
It just stops existing for a while until he leaves and you’re curious to see what’s inside. And again you have the same old intentions as before. The same ones.
You won’t use it.
It’s curiosity. And it's fine for you to be curious because he’s the one buying it and gifting it to you. Why should you be blamed?
Freshly hopped in bed, just done reading the notice hanging over your face, you’re yawning and sending your eyebrows high in interest. Again you won’t use it but it sounds very interesting. That’s when you get a text from him.
Guk
So about the toy!
As if you were waiting for his explanation. As if the conversation got cut short and you were expecting him to pick it back up whenever possible.
You won’t entertain him.
You
I said not to buy me this.
Guk
You never said that! You said something about me being crazy but never about buying one again
Because you're mostly made of petty bitch material, you scroll higher quickly, wishing to find something, any text that would corroborate what you’re saying.
You don’t find anything though. Because you never actually told him to not buy you other toys by text, and now that you come to think of it, you probably never did out loud either because you didn’t fucking know that he would even consider doing so.
It’s not even Christmas anymore. It’s not your birthday. There’s even less of a valid reason for him to get you this therefore, of course, you did not explicitly warn him not to, you didn’t think it would be necessary.
You
It’s not even my fucking bday why???
Guk
I told you the lady at the shop
But who the hell is that lady?
Guk
She talked about a lot of products and they all seemed cool and because you liked the other one I thought I’d get you this one too
You
Jungkook
This simple response says a lot, you hope he can read between the pixels of his screen the desperation, the irritation, the frustration, the silent insults.
Guk
Listen it’s super cool it's supposed to mimic the touch of a finger
Jungkook then proceeds to explain to you how it works. The original idea being a system with a tiny ball rolling under a silicon skin, to place on your clitoris to have the illusion of a finger's touch. And it’s interesting and innovative surely and sounds intriguing as in, you wonder if it’s accurate, but you’re tired and it seems like you’re wading in some sort of swamp you can’t escape from. There’s a fire burning your skin from your cheeks to your chest. You’re both hating this conversation and unwilling to just draw a final period to it. This asshole.
You
I can read
Guk
So you opened it already??
There’s a bunch of excited emojis that follows his last message and fill up the empty space your lack of response leaves.
Why and how can he be so eager?
Here comes the delusional part of your brain. It’s a very wide, very deep hallway covered in bookshelves filled to the brim with stupid interpretations and beliefs and sometimes even memories you’ve shared with him. Often next to the laters are pinned an article from a teenage magazine or the jacket of a romance movie, specifically there to validate that yes, indeed, it must have meant something.
The door of that corridor just creaked opened. You can discern the sound, you can feel the particular atmosphere without even having to take a step through.
Is it really that normal to be so excited about that? For him? As a friend?
It’s the most frustrating part: you are friends. Friends who supposedly can tell each other everything. Friends who can ask each other anything.
You should be able to talk about it. Just ask him. If there’s anything behind this whole mess, if he means to tell you something, if it’s wholly mindless, if there’s no hidden agenda.
It should be fine. There’s only trust and affection in this friendship.
You are still too scared, you are terrified that he’d start linking dots, ask himself some new questions, potentially answer them himself, and have you all found out.
You'd have your barely well-worn cover thrown completely away.
You send the blank emoji. The one with even the eyes closed. It summarizes your actual state pretty well, speechless, relatively annoyed.
Guk
She said you could try it on other parts of your body too
Guk
At first
Guk
Like on your lips or your nipples
You want to die.
Now.
No, better, you wish to have never been born.
Why is he talking about your nipples? Why?
And through all that, you still feel like something is wrong with you, along with your feelings.
Turns out you are so overwhelmed by his clueless inadequacy, you need a good half an hour and a random shot of tequila to get through it. When it’s gone and exhaustion of a long day and alcohol have knocked nervousness and panic out, you fall asleep, forgetting about answering his outrageous last texts.
“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”
Min's finger stops midair, above the cash register she's been working on. She needs a good minute to get back to her senses and while you wait, anxiety invades you. Maybe you should never have brought it up.
But this question, the torturous thing is slowly killing you.
Min finally turns her head to you, eyes squinted and eyebrows drawn low. She sucks in her pretty red lips before opening them to start formulating, with it seems a certain struggle, an answer.
“I don’t think I quite understand.”
It’s a pretty straightforward, relatively easy question. That’s what you'd want to say but you’ve reached the state of bashful regret and decide not to press it. Some things are better just left alone.
“Who talked about your nipples?” She ends up asking the one thing you wished she wouldn’t because there is no way you’re giving his name.
“Doesn’t matter.” You mumble, turning around slightly, getting back to the task you were here, paid, to do -wipe the shelves clean and not talk about your “““love””” life.
“I think it does. You wanna know if it means something? Like the guy's into you?”
“Something like that.” Your cheeks are aflame now. No doubt about it. You silently curse at your manager who refuses that you don’t wear the ugly hat that holds your hair back because having a curtain of hair to hold behind, as a help to keep some of your remained, sparse dignity would have been peachy.
“What did he say exactly?”
Silence. You’re not elaborating. She sighs, defeated.
“Well, I suppose... he’s considered the fact that you have boobs. If it’s a straight guy, that’s a good sign, I guess?” She shrugs.
You don’t like the answer. It’s exactly what the wrong, defective part of your brain, the one directly wired to your heart, wanted to hear.
She doesn’t even have the context, anyway. It doesn’t mean much, doesn’t hold much power in your court of sensibility.
She stares at the side of your face, clearly attempting to drill holes in your head to try and find some answers. You’re awfully silent, have said too much yet not enough and she’s dying to know the whole story. You won’t give in and she can tell. There’s no way you’re sharing the whole thing. The most, probably, probative point of the whole story: the sex toys. It’d turn her into a devastating tsunami of nonsense and misinterpretation and drown you in its wake and you can’t, when you’re already struggling to stay afloat, allow that.
Tag list: @fangirls94 @realswimshaddy @safi4x @pnkd @somewhereinthestarss @kpopfandomftw @kai-kai-bookshelf @pasteljoonie @ggukkieland
A/N: Don’t forget to click on the next button on top, two parts are being posted simultaneously :)
#btswriterscollective#networkbangtan#ggukienet#bts smut#bts fluff#bts angst#bts fanfic#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#my writing
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Melting Wax, Crawling Vines: Part 11 (Vincent Sinclair x Fem!Reader)
<- Previous Chapter
Warnings: smut, oral, fingering, cum-eating, trauma, blood/gore, hypersexuality as a way to cope my dudes
Word Count: 3846
The smut chapter I promised is finally here
It had been a month and you'd been thinking about it. You knew you shouldn't have. That it did nothing to help you. That going over the events over and over in your mind would only bring back more pain. But, like a wound on the inside of your cheek, you couldn't help but touch it.
You were pouring your cup of coffee, thinking about the blood. The gore. The broken face and his final cry. You thought about what he'd been trying to tell you, what he'd been trying to get at. The wax bodies all over town. He'd mentioned your type, and, for a moment, you wondered if you really were just attracted to crazy. You shook your head. Vincent wasn't crazy. Bo on the other hand. Maybe. But Vincent was lucid. And he still did the thing he did. You bit the inside of your cheek. Okay, maybe your track record wasn't amazing. And maybe if you'd listened to him-
"Shit." You said, feeling the hot coffee touch your hand. Your thoughts had gone elsewhere for too long, to the point where you'd overfilled your cup until the coffee spread across the counter and down onto the floor. You were quick to grab some paper towels to clean up your mess, and Vincent was reaching over to help you. He quickly signed,
"You okay?" And you gave him a nod. It wasn't a lie. Physically, you hadn't been hurt more than a minor shock of the initial burn. Mentally, however? That was another story. You ended up dumping out a little bit of your cup, just so you wouldn't end up spilling it on your way down to the workshop.
You spent all of your time with Vincent. You went down to his workshop with him, carrying your coffee and your breakfast. You were going to spend some time reading, maybe take a nap, and try your best to hold onto your slipping sanity. Vincent, despite his hobby, was a big help. He understood that the whole event was traumatizing, and your hesitance to really leave the safety of the workshop. It was away from the rest of the world, perfectly hidden and the perfect place to recoup yourself. He would let you lay in his bed, reading, sleeping, or even prepping for some more lessons for the others.
But, after you finished eating, you couldn't find it in you to pick up the book you'd left on the side of Vincent's bed. You knew you could try your hand at drawing, as Vincent had offered to let you use any of his notebooks and had given you some of his own lessons. After a moment, you asked for some of his pencils and he was quick to offer you a variety of drawing tools. Charcoal, pencils, pens, markers. You almost wanted to ask if he had crayons. You chose a simple pencil, before you reached for one of his notebooks and began flipping through the pages. Vincent always let you use whatever you wanted. He had plenty of notebooks, plenty of tools. It was rare that he'd ever need all of them, and he always told you that it was all at your disposal.
So, you hadn't expected to find what you did. You knew that Vincent drew you. Hell, you'd posed for some of his drawings. But this was not the usual portraits you found. You flipped further, quickly figuring out that this notebook seemed to have one specific purpose. Part of you wanted to just tuck it away and pretend you never saw anything. And another part of you wanted to tease him ruthlessly for it.
Finally, you decided on the former. You tucked that particular notebook away, looking for a different one for you to begin sketching in. As much as you just wanted to draw whatever came to mind, you found the only thing that came to mind was Vincent.
You and Vincent had kissed and done some light touching, but your original path had been undoubtedly slowed by what happened with your ex. Vincent didn't want to push, you knew. So, the most you'd done was a few light kisses that you'd initiated, and it was always nothing more than something to relieve some of your stress or to bask in the comfort of the early morning. You were aware that Vincent was inexperienced, but it was almost reassuring to see that he did desire you. Even if he planned on keeping it to himself.
You stared at him for a moment. You watched the way his hands moved, how they moved with the utmost precision and certainty. How his movements were both gentle and sure, like a well oiled machine. The muscle you knew he possessed was covered by a sweater that hung off of him, and his long black hair was tied back at his neck. You wished for this morning to return, wished that you'd spent more time running your hands through it. Well, you knew you'd get to play with it when you settled for bed.
You drew him until Vincent was done with his pet project, a lamp for the upstairs bedroom. When Vincent came over to peek at what you'd been drawing, you thought you could see a crinkle in his eye and you watched the way he played with his hands. He was embarrassed, you could tell, and, after a moment, he signed,
"Me?" And you gave him a smile and a nod. He turned away, busying himself by fixing his ponytail. But you knew he was pleased. You smiled to yourself. Even if it wasn't as good as Vincent's, he still liked it. He grabbed the lamp, holding it with one arm. You were quick to say and sign,
"You're going upstairs?" And he gave you a nod. After a moment, he moved it in his arms to comfortably sign,
"You don't have to come." He said, and you bit your lip. You knew that he knew you liked to avoid the House of Wax as much as possible. After everything that happened there, he understood. You frowned. It had once been your favorite place in all of Ambrose. You glanced down the hallway. But you didn't really like being alone in the basement either. You sighed, deciding that you'd rather face your issues than stay alone in the basement.
"It's fine. I'll come." You said, and you pulled on your slippers and one of Vincent's sweaters over your pajamas. You couldn't ignore how Vincent seemed happy, even if he wouldn't say anything. He held out his hand for you, and you took it and gave it a squeeze.
He guided you through the underground tunnels, even if you'd been going through them long enough to know where to go. He walked up the steps, and you absentmindly reached out to touch the faces carved into the walls as Vincent walked in front of you. You were following him like a lost little puppy, your mind elsewhere as you tried not to let memories of what happened the month before flood your mind. Surprisingly, you were able to find a pretty good distraction.
You thought about the images that Vincent had drawn, all the positions he must've imagined. Even if he was inexperienced, he definitely had quite the imagination. As Vincent guided you and you trailed behind him silently, your mind flooding with different images of all the ways Vincent could take you. On your back, one your stomach, on your knees. You tried not to blush as you thought a particular angle that made it clear Vincent had been imagining something slightly more self serving.
It made it so you could completely ignore all the terrible reminders of what you'd done, up until you were in the wax bedroom Vincent had created. You glanced at the bed, immediately imagining Vincent in-between your legs. And then you in-between his . It was almost unfair. Vincent seemed to know about every little dip and curve you had, how he knew that you'd figure out another time, but you had barely seen anything. A couple of flashes here or there, but Vincent was shy. He kept his clothes on even when you did some experimental touching. You bit your lip, just before Vincent signed,
"You okay?"
***
Vincent knew this was a bad idea, but he didn't want to force you to stay in the basement. Any time you came up into the House of Wax usually didn't end well, and his nerves only grew as your silence stretched on.
He watched how you bit your lip, refused to meet his eyes. How you seemed far off and in your own head, millions of miles away from him and where you were. He thought the flush on your cheeks was just from the heat of wearing his sweater. Why would it be from anything else?
Even when you nodded and assured him that you were fine, Vincent didn't believe you. He knew this was a bad idea. He knew he should've just waited until you went to take a nap. Then, he could've slipped away and been back before you ever knew the wiser. Instead, he'd brought you here and now you were- His self deprecating paused as you reached a hand under his sweater.
His hand instantly went around your wrist, but he didn't pull it away. It was out of surprise more than anything, but his grip quickly relaxed. Still, his bigger hands circled your wrist as your hand moved. It was just the lightest of touches, your fingertips barely brushing against his skin. You were touching the flesh of his side, before your hand was sliding up and you were moving your palm across his abdomen. Feeling his happy trail, before teasing the edge of his sweatpants. He stared down at you, watching as you gazed up at him. You were still biting your lip, your cheeks were still flushed, but he finally noticed the way your pupils had blown out and- Oh . Vincent wasn't the most experienced. It's probably why it took him this long to figure out what you'd been thinking about. Or what he assumed you were. A quick thought told him he was being silly, that you couldn't possibly want that.
Even as you leaned up to nip and kiss at his collarbone, as your hands pushed his shirt up further and felt the expanse of his chest. Even as you leaned forward to suck a hickey into his chest, leaving him practically trembling. He didn't believe you could want him like that up until you whispered,
***
"Vincent, can I touch you?" You watched as a look of surprise was quick to flit through his eye. He gave you a nod, almost a jerk of his head compared to his usual slow movements. You gave him a grin, before you were sliding your hand under his pants. You'd never been so bold before with him, but you couldn't help it. You wanted to know. Wanted to feel the weight in your hand. On your tongue.
You barely had to brush your fingers against the front of his briefs before you could feel that he was half-hard already. A few more light brushes and he was straining against the material of his underwear. Vincent let out a soft noise, the sound of a puff of air hitting his mask. You had barely touched him, but he already looked half-wrecked. It occurred to you then that Vincent probably wouldn't last long, and it was strange to you. To hold power over someone.
You pushed his sweatpants down his narrow hips, sinking onto your knees in front of him. He practically jumped when he realized what you were doing, and you quickly asked,
"Is this alright?" But he was quick to nod. He leaned back, resting back on the dresser he'd made. He motioned for you to continue, and you smiled up to him as you leaned forward to nuzzle the crotch of his pants. Your nose bumped along his clothed cock, before you were giving it an experimental lick through the fabric of his underwear. You heard him sigh again, and you watched as he tightened his grip on the edge of the dresser. "You're so handsome, Vincent." You whispered the praise, kissing along the waistband before you were tugging his underwear down. You looked up, seeing that his flush was heading down his neck and towards the tips of his ears. Once again you asked, "You're okay, right? You'll tell me if you want me to stop?" He'd started to fist his sweater, to bring it up to hide his face. He gave you another quick nod and you pulled him free. You gave him a few experimental pumps, leaning in to lick along his shaft to lubricate your hand. You watched how Vincent shivered at the feeling of your wet appendage, and you had to bite back a satisfied grin. After that, you didn't waste any time wrapping your mouth around the head of his cock.
You sucked him off slowly, flattening your tongue against the underside as you bobbed your head half-way. He was big, as big as his height and the size of his hands may have suggested, and thick. Even if you were more experienced than him, you found it difficult to fit him completely down your throat.
His hands tugged and pulled at the fabric of his sweater before one of them was cupping the back of your neck. He tilted his hips forward, rocking his hips ever so slightly with every bob of your head. This was the most noise you ever heard Vincent make. He let out little groans and sounds, half-keened whines and breathless gasps. He shivered and trembled with every flick of your tongue. You held his hips, thumbing them as you stared up at him through your lashes. He was keeping his head tossed back, his eye firmly closed from what you could tell. But when he'd finally looked down at you and made eye contact with you, you practically felt his resolve snap.
His hand moved from your neck to the back of your head. He only pressed your head down farther for a few thrusts, ones that practically slid his cock all the way down your throat, before you felt him tense. He held your head, doubling over as he slid his cock down the back of your throat. You could feel his cum hitting the back of your throat, giving you no choice but to swallow around his cock. You could feel tears in the corners of your eyes, and you tried to blink them away as you focused on trying not to gag. He let out a strangled sound, no doubt feeling the muscles of your throat work around his cock. His hips stuttered, before he was pulling out with panting breaths. He leaned back against dresser, his head falling back and strands of his hair falling out from his ponytail from where he'd gripped at it. You almost wished you could take a picture.
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, watching him as he calmed himself down and you helped him tuck himself away. You lifted yourself to your feet with his help, and he signed a simple,
"You okay?" And you nearly laughed. Vincent seemed to ask you that at least five times a day.
"I'm fine. Are you okay?" You asked, prodding his chest. You heard him laugh, a soft and raspy sound. He gave you a nod, even if it still seemed like he was collecting himself. He reached out, running a hand through your hair before settling his palm against your cheek. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, running over the sensitive skin. You hummed, parting your lips and sucking his thumb into your mouth. You barely realized what you were doing before you did it, but you gave his thumb a slow suck as you ran your tongue over it. You watched as his eye darkened once more, and you squeaked when he pulled his hand away and tugged you up like you didn't weigh a thing.
You squealed and laughed when your back hit the wax mattress, which, despite looking comfortable, was only slightly less forgiving than if he'd shoved you against the wall. But you barely had time to think about that. Vincent was quickly pushing his mask away from his face and you shut your eyes out of habit. You felt his lips clumsily press against yours, and his confidence was either from the month of practice or from the rage of desire that was flooding his system. He boxed you in with one arm, his other hand quick to trace all the parts he'd already memorized. You giggled. You couldn't help it. You'd never felt Vincent so eager, so confident . It sent the rush of a thrill through you, and you were wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest against his to get him as close as possible.
"Touch me, touch me, touch me," You practically begged, your legs curling around his hips and drawing him closer. He groaned at the press of his front against yours, undeniably sensitive from before. He drew his lips from yours, mouthing down your cheek to your jaw until he reached your neck. His fingers weren't moving fast enough, and you pressed your chest against his hand to urge him further as he fondled you through your shirt. Even as he slipped his hand underneath, teasing and gently twisting your nipples, you knew it wouldn't be enough. You rolled your hips against his, trying to get any sort of friction as you tugged on his black strands of hair. He moaned against your skin, before his lips were attempting to clamp back onto yours. You begged for more, and Vincent wasn't one to keep you waiting. His hand rubbed you through the fabric of your bottoms, and he swallowed the moan that left your lips. He traced your heat through the fabric, pressing hard enough to feel his touch.
It wasn't enough until his hand was slipping inside, slipping past your panties and running his bare fingertips through the folds of your cunt. You whined, gripping his shoulders and bucking your hips against his hand. Vincent pulled away from the kiss, but you were too distracted to care as you guided his fingers over your aching clit.
***
Vincent was watching you, memorizing the expressions you made as you screwed your eyes closed and gasped. You gasped and whined, bucking and practically throbbing against his hand. When he dipped his fingers inside you, he found feel your walls sucking his fingers up. Trying to drag them deeper and swallow them in your warm, wet heat.
His cock was already heavy and hard in his sweatpants again, but he fought the urge to grind against your thigh as he fingered you. This was about you. He pressed the heel of his palm against the spot you'd lead him to, watching the way you shuddered and trembled underneath him. He drew everything in, only muffling your sounds when he needed your lips against his.
He kissed you anywhere his lips reached, trying to silently tell you how beautiful you were. How precious you looked. Everything that he couldn't sign to you with your eyes closed and one of his hands down your pants, his fingers buried and thrusting inside of you.
***
You whimpered as he pushed you further and further, your hips jerking as Vincent listened to every word you told him. He moved his fingers just so, seeming to even listen just to the way your voice would change. You'd been touched before, either by yourself or by your ex, but you couldn't remember a time you'd been listened to so eagerly before. Had someone that could reach the spots inside you that you couldn't.
"Right there, Vincent. Ah- Just like that." He rubbed that spot over and over until your hips were jerking. Whether to get closer or farther away you didn't know. But Vincent pulled back almost completely. You could feel his weight shift, and then you felt his other hand holding you down by pressing his large hand flat against your stomach. So you couldn't move and so you were forced to feel . "Oh, Vincent ." Your voice went up an octave. You tried to fist the sheets of the bed, but all you did was scrape your nails against the wax. You tried to move your hips, but you couldn't. You tried to shift away from the intensity of the pleasure, of how he'd shifted from using the heel of his palm and instead circled your clit with his thumb, but he was relentless. Persistent with his pleasure.
You felt close to tears, a stream of cries and praise leaving your lips before you could feel your thighs start to shake. Your abdomen start to tense. You reached to hold onto his forearm, your nails biting into his skin as the other gripped your own hair. You came around his fingers, a cry of his name leaving your lips as you arched your head back. He didn't stop, even if his actions slowed. You shivered and trembled through the aftershocks, twitching before you finally begged him,
"Open." And you knew that you hadn't been mistaken. It was rare that you heard his voice. You were almost sure that it had been the first time. You knew he didn't speak simply because it pained him to do so, and you knew that he wouldn't do it unless he was absolutely sure. So, slowly, you peeled open your eyes and looked into the half-scarred face of your lover. Your hand glided over the smooth, untouched side of his face. One that was identical to Bo's. You didn't dare touch the scar tissue, as you didn't want to potentially hurt him. But, still, your eyes glided over it as if there wasn't a blemish there. Softly, you whispered,
"Okay, okay, okay, enough. Fuck- Vincent, I can't-" And he finally drew his hand away. You panted and relaxed, slumping against the solid block of wax and waiting until Vincent told you he was ready for you to look. Instead, you felt the plushness of his lips press against yours. It was soft and short, before he was kissing you again. And again, and again. You giggled, running your fingers through the strands of his hair and kissing him back each time. He kissed your cheek and your forehead, before he pressed soft kisses to the back of your eyelids. They nearly fluttered open, but then Vincent did it again. You made a face, questioning if you thought he was telling you to do what you thought he was. Then, he did it again and you heard the raspy whisper of the word,
"Hello, handsome." And you finally got to watch him blush properly.
#house of wax#house of wax (2005)#house of wax 2005#vincent sinclair x reader#lester sinclair#bo sinclair#vincent sinclair
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