#onto for comfort or stability. i had no idea what would happen next or what the entity wanted or what story was being told

[ranseur]

I take it Skinamarink has nothing to do with The Elephant Show/Skinamarink TV????

Correct! It's an experimental horror movie released in 2022. From google, Skinamarink is about: 'Two children wake up in the middle of the night to find their father is missing, and all the windows and doors in their home have vanished.'

Trailer here if you're interested

[ofstardustanddreaming]

Not sure what your request rules are but I had an idea I wanted to pose to you. Karlach mentions early on she is one of zariel's 'least mutilated' pets. I was thinking imagine if Tav was another of those. There could be many ways how but I was thinking they were given mechanical wings but in the process of adding them their spine was removed and replaced with an infernal one which gives them issues from time to time and pain. It would be so interesting to have this Tav and Karlach on the adventure as both look to find ways to fix it. Perhaps they knew each other in Avernus or perhaps their escapes just lined up.

Hope you enjoyed the idea, I'm sorry if it wasn't to your taste, I'm pretty new to requests.

Oh yeah, this is such a good idea! And this is a perfect way to request, no need to worry :) If you would like to send more in the future, feel free to!

I'm also trying a few new fic layouts right now, so it might be a bit chaotic with the set up as I'm trying to figure out what I like. So please bare with me lol.

part of each other

headcanon summary: up above

content warnings: slight mentions of a rough backstory in avernus. mostly talking about obtaining the mechanical wings and spine, and how it was painful.

fandom: baldur’s gate 3

character: karlach x reader

gender neutral reader

anon request

you guys had initially met when you found her hunched over, looking as if she was in pain. wyll had let you guys in on the slight back story the two had with each other, and if anything it made you perk up. you didn't think you'd encounter someone who had a similar backstory to you, where you were both from avernus. you were shocked yourself you hadn't run into wyll, but you had heard of the blade of frontiers.

upon finding out a bit of what happened with her down in avernus, it made you curious. you had invited her with the group, and was glad that she had agreed to do so. anytime the group was walking along the routes you needed for your end destinations, you tried your best to talk to karlach as much as you could to know more. the strong connection you had found through her was comforting, it made you feel less alone about what you went through.

she was very curious about your story with avernus, wanting to know as much about your story without crossing your boundaries. she was always by your side at camp, when everyone was winding down, wanting to become a closer friend to you because of your similar stories. and how could you say no to her sweet, upbeat nature?

you told her your story about your time in avernus. the searing pain you endured as your spine was removed and quickly replaced with the mechanical spine. you distinctly remember the sound of the grinding joints, your muscles trying to reject the pain it was feeling from an unwanted procedure. the wings were added afterwards, connected at the upper spine and at the halfway point of the wings, pinned to your shoulder blades for better stability.

"my wings don't do much flying, so they feel useless, and they burn at my shoulder blades. the muscles around the spine feels constantly pulled at." you tell her, and she gives you a sympathetic look. the group had taken a small break outside of emerald grove, soaking in a bit of the sun before going onto the next mission.

"they really tried to make us their best warriors. our own autonomy be damned." karlach says, the rage and upset twisting in her words. but she looks towards you with hope. "oh tav, we'll make it through this. there's gotta be way to stop the infernal heat that plagues us."

her earnest hope makes you smile, the warmth behind her optimism making you feel like you stand a chance against this. "yeah, i'm sure we'll find something to help." even if you felt it was a halfhearted saying to her, you hoped that she believed you.

she let you hold onto your cynicism for a little while longer, wanting to give you time to work up to her optimism, knowing it's a hard time. she let you lean on her, when you aimed to do so. the two of you soaked in the moment, happy the both of you had someone to confide in. anytime you needed to lean on someone, you knew you could count on her for that. the both of you had similar body heats, relying on each other for comfort was very much needed.

eventually, the two of you found dammon. he helped you two with the infernal iron, gathering that for the both of you. it gave you the first glimmer of hope in this journey, in terms of your own personal path. sure, you felt and gave hope for the road to baldur's gate and helping the others with their journeys, but for your own self? you thought it was futile. but now it wasn't. you could have your pain lessened.

you and karlach that night shared your thoughts about it. karlach was happy to see your cynicism turned to optimism, happy that you could start to trust that things can work out for yourself. because she knew you deserved the happiness.

[onlymingyus]

But, Never You

pairing; jeon wonwoo x gn reader

genre; angst, toxic, horror

warnings; yandere!wonwoo, obsession, mentions of blood, mentions of death/near death, suggestion of abuse of medication, depression, mention of abuse/violence

w/c; 1.4k and some change 

13 days of mars’oween master list - day 2

a/n; there are some darker themes in this drabble please read the warnings and i hope you enjoy

Wonwoo sits in the chair in the corner as you sleep. His ever watchful gaze steady on you as you take a breath in and a breath out. His hands flex on the arms of the chair when you toss and turn before settling down. Wonwoo can’t help but to find himself wondering what is plaguing your dreams tonight like many nights recently. 

His mind drifted to how he had met you, how he had been assigned to you those years ago. He had been tasked with ending your life. It has been your time, but for a grim reaper he was methodical. He liked to do things once and properly. He watched you and the more he watched the more he learned. The more he learned the more he grew fond. Then when your time grew near he made a decision he had never thought he would make, he let you live. 

He knew there would be a domino effect. Others like him would try to take you out, but he would stop them one by one, and he did. The first was simple enough and how you had seen him the first time. The sound of a horn draws your attention behind you. You take one step out into the street and another, the car racing towards you but Wonwoo’s hand grabs your arm tugging you back onto the sidewalk at the last moment. You gasp as you are pulled back against a firm chest looking up at the man who smiles gently before you are surrounded, and you lose him quickly in the crowd. 

The second time, Wonwoo kept to the shadows. You didn’t even know anything had happened, he supposed. A man had a thought to mug you. The idea had been placed in his head, he was about to grab you, pull you into the alley. It would have been horrible but Wonwoo wouldn’t let that happen. The mugging would have gone wrong and you would have been left for dead. Instead the man took your place. How angry would they be if someone else took your place? 

Perhaps from that point on he got a bit careless. He wanted to know more about you. You were so full of joy at that time. The smile on your face was so bright and Wonwoo always blanketed in darkness. So when you were with an abusive lover and they mysteriously went missing, Wonwoo had introduced himself to stave off your sadness. You needed him in your life. He had watched from the sidelines for far too long. 

The two of you quickly became friends. He seemed to know so much about how to make you happy. He liked so many of the same things. It was effortless. He was easy to fall in love with. You wanted that stability in your life. Nothing bad seemed to happen with him around, at first. He would keep anything bad from you. Always. 

But after a year or so Wonwoo would find that perhaps the others like him were getting creative. Trying to use those even closer to you to hurt you. To try to take you away from him. That just couldn’t happen. He had you now. He had to keep you safe. He watched as you argued with a friend. A man who if Wonwoo were being honest with himself and you, this friend wasn’t good for you. Wonwoo knew what was best for you. 

Wonwoo was there to comfort you after that friend’s car accident. He was there after every tragic accident. He was there to remind you that none of it was ever your fault, because it wasn’t. It was their fault. They shouldn't make you sad. 

Now Wonwoo watches you sleep, a frown on your face. You had become distant from him. Distant from everyone. He noticed the pills on your nightstand, the pills in the bathroom cabinet. No matter how many times he disposed of them you got more. You slept often. More often than other humans. Your light was fading. 

Hearing you whisper his name, Wonwoo moves from his chair and moves to your bed sitting next to you running his fingers over your delicate face. “I’m here, Y/N. I never left, I never leave.” You knew that. Furrowing your brows you move to lay your head on Wonwoo’s lap as he runs his fingers through your hair. Your head pounding you find yourself wincing to his light touch. 

Wonwoo frowns when he watches your eyes open and instantly move to the pills on the nightstand. “You don’t need them Y/N.” Tears slipping from your eyes before you push from him grabbing your cell phone to check your missed calls. You see several from your mom causing you to sniff back your tears. “Why didn’t you wake me when my mom called?” 

The man shrugs and moves closer only to watch you shift away very slightly as you press the call button on the phone, putting it to your ear. “Mom?” Wonwoo watches your face as you listen to the phone. He already knew what the woman wanted to tell you. He had done what he had to do. 

“What? She wasn’t even sick!” Tears fall freely from your eyes making Wonwoo’s chest feel tighter. He watches you throw your phone before your hands are in your hair tugging at the locks hard trying to make sense of how your life has gone to hell so quickly in a year. Wonwoo swallows hard and reaches out a hand to you only to watch you stand up quickly pushing off the bed. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” He sighs at your words and stands up moving to you. “Y/N…you are doing just fine.” You shake your head but let him pull you into his arms, your face against his chest as you sob. “My grandma is gone, Wonwoo. She wasn’t even sick. I talked to her yesterday, and I said awful things. It was a stupid fight. We never fought. Fuck!” 

Your tears seep through his shirt, but Wonwoo just holds you trying to comfort you. His hand running over the back of your head. “She was a hateful woman. She didn’t deserve you.” You furrow your brows at his words pulling back. He had said somethings recently that had made you take a step back but never against someone you loved so dearly. “What? What are you talking about Wonwoo? That’s crazy.” 

He sighs loudly and tries to grab your hand as you push him back before you move to the bathroom. The sound of your bathroom cabinet making him panic. “Y/N, not the fucking pills!” You jump to his voice, he had never raised his voice at you before. The room feels colder when you drop the bottle in the sink, feeling his hands on your arms before you look into the mirror to see him standing behind you, fear ripping through you. 

Wonwoo’s mask had fallen in his panic. He was so good at keeping it up around you. He knew what you liked to see. A clean, sweet face, someone who could keep you calm, but when you looked into the mirror that isn’t who you saw behind you. Blood covered his hands, dripping onto your skin. Blood was splattered across his skin, his eyes soulless, hair standing on end. 

The scream almost wouldn’t make it out of your throat but when it did, it was blood curdling. Wonwoo gasped and saw himself in the mirror as you jerked your body from him and backed yourself into your shower terrified. “What the fuck Wonwoo?!” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo moves to sit on his heels shaking his head. He couldn’t get the mask to go back on. Not after you had seen what he had done. “Y/N…baby no. I did it for you.” You sob and put your hands up trying to get him to stay away. “You did what? Who’s blood is that?” You already knew, you could feel it. The grief ripped through you harder than anything ever had. 

Wonwoo’s own tears, nothing he had ever experienced rolled down his cheek as he grabbed your hand bringing them to his bloody lips trying to calm you. “I did it for you…I hurt them. I killed them to save you Y/N.” You let out another scream but it’s one of grief and distress. “But I'd never hurt you, Y/N. Never you.” 

——————————————————

tag list; @bangchanbabygirlx @just-here-to-read-01 @niktwazny303 @strawberri-uyu @yeritheloml @tis-niki @noraehey @hoohoohope @otterpopchan @xuxibelle @foxdaisy @smileysuh @vern0nsworld @synthetickitsune @enhacolor @pandorashbox @yeosayang @gyuhanniescarat @yoonguurt @jwnghyuns @xoxodino @sakurasangcl @woniewhite @fantasy2wonderland @midnightvalentines @junhui-recs @woozis-wife @cheolsbestie @sunnyteume @sakurasangcl @multi-kpop-fanfics @noseblowersanonymous @whyokoa @baldi-2 @misssugarlips @rubyscoups @httpswonwoosglasses @nikkell @midnightvalentines @onlywonus

please note that I am doing my best to tag all of you who have filled out the tag list form but tumblr won’t let me tag some of you. I think that is because either you have tags turned off or possibly a blank tumblr page. consider reblogging some of the fics you like from me or other writers. ♥

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.  

[magicwithineleteo]

hi, just wanted to give some thoughts on love you forever, this is my most streamed song from season 4 and i cry every time and the lyrics are beautiful and i wanted to share my thoughts on some of them <3 i may skip some of them but yeah (the bold and italicized ones are the lyrics i’ll be talking about)

welcome to genius lyrics

i’ve been wishing on a fallen star for too long,

i’ve been running i don’t know what from

but you and i’ve become a sacred kinda home

this lyric is so perfect for both ricky and gina. all of this may sound obvious but gina’s never had a home before and the idea of a home is something ricky’s been clinging onto for so long.

gina’s always moving because of her mom’s job so she’s never had one. her life is all about change. she can’t get emotionally attached to people or places because next thing she knows, she’s packing up and moving elsewhere.

and we see ricky “finding a home” in nini. i say this because that doesn’t work out in the slightest. nini represented his childhood, his comfort zone. something that doesn’t change. nini certainly didn’t like being this for ricky, feeling confined. ricky’s world was changing with his parents divorcing and lynne moving and dating todd, while his dad started having a thing with his teacher. he looked for a home in nini, which didn’t last. his world crumbled and he hated change. until he started talking to gina again in season 3.

that’s another reason why portwell was never meant to work out. gina needed someone to stay, to be her constant, and ej was entering a new chapter of his life. similarly, ricky needed someone to understand the struggle of change. nini moreso appreciated change, or rather, never really had an adverse reaction to it like ricky. ricky needed someone like gina who also longed for stability.

in their own words, they got each other. they told each other things they would never tell anyone else, because they knew the other would be able to relate and validate them. they became each others homes, when gina didn’t have one and ricky lost his.

i’m in love, i’m in love, i’m in love and i know it

no net, no fear right here in this moment

i loveeee this line. we see how ricky has grown so much here. “no net” shows how ricky is putting himself out there, without anything holding him back. he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, taking a leap of faith. he’s telling gina he loves her, something he has struggled with saying in the past. bro couldn’t say it back to nini, and barely said it to the people he did love. he was so scared of being vulnerable, to now being able to freely express his feelings without being afraid of what may happen.

which goes into “no fear right here in this moment.” ricky is so sure of his relationship with gina, and with his love. he won’t regret saying this to her. he’s not afraid, he has no safety net. he is willing to trip and fall with nothing catching him because his love is real and genuine, and he’s not worried about the consequences. all he knows is that he loves gina, and needs to tell her that before she goes.

and this kind of reminds me of in season 2, when ricky tells nini “i’m a little scared right now, does that count?” in regards to her becoming viral. now, with gina, even though she’s about to leave and start a new chapter in her life, becoming a superstar, yes he’s sad about that. but he’s not scared for their relationship. he knows it’s solid.

i’ve never been more sure of what i’ve got

cause this is so much more then puppy love

aah!! like i said before, ricky is so solid in this relationship. it’s not a question of if he loves her, he does. he’s sure. he’s firm. he’s in love. and it’s bigger and more beautiful than anything he’s known before.

i’ll say it first no matter what the cost is

here i am, full heart full stop. i love you

he said the thing! i love this line because it shows that both gina and ricky knew they were in love. it was never a question on if they love each other. it was a matter of who would say it first. they both knew they were in love. the only thing was was that gina wanted him to say it first, and ricky also wanted to say it first. she’s tired of always putting herself out there first, and he’s ready to begin to put himself out there with no regrets.

i never knew that i could feel so sure and so strong

how can three old words feel so brand new?

this reminds me of kristoff’s lullaby. “what do i know about love? anything i thought i did, you’ve gone and changed it, kid. you’re what i know about love.”

gina changed ricky’s view of love. his relationship with nini was so shaky and unstable, they didn’t have a strong foundation. gina and ricky have a strong foundation, initially a friendship full of understanding. they were both outsiders, they both had hard family lives, they both understood each other.

“i thought we sort of got each other.”

“i’m an outsider to theater and you’re an outsider to east high.”

“sorry, there are just some things i tell you that i don’t really tell anyone else.” “yeah, i think we do that for each other.”

“but with you, i feel so seen and so understood and so known.”

there are a million reasons why ricky and gina are soulmates. this is just one.

i wanna finish what we started in the stairwell where we met

i wanna live like i have never even heard the word regret

i wanna scream what’s in my heart and i won’t ever take it back

cause i love you feels a lot like high school

and forever after that

firstly, gina defined ricky’s perspective on love and on high school.

secondly, this reminds me of in season 3, when ricky said “it’s hard to not say what you feel” in regards to gina. ricky went from not being able to say i love you to a girl he supposedly was in love with, to wanting to shout from the rooftops that he’s in love with gina. he no longer wants to be held back by fear and just live. live with gina. just be with gina. that’s when their relationship really blossomed, when they’re just being together.

beforehand, miss jenn says to not promise forever. but ricky is so sure in his love with gina that he takes that risk of forever. because he knows it’s forever. gina is ricky’s forever and there’s no doubt on his mind about that.

[mang0-after-dark]

A Sweet Prize

PtN x Chief! Reader

Not really smut or dark, just some dumb fun with some allusion to smut.

Words: 944

Notes: I couldn’t decide on a character to have be the winner, so maybe there will be later fics for different character winning their prize. Any input on who the winner should be is welcome.

"Why did I agree to this?" You whisper to yourself, eyes scanning over the sight that stares back through the mirror. The sound of applause and cheers echo out from the stage that had been set up for the night.

A show and a small raffle, all to raise and keep morale. Some entertainment would be good for mental stability, they said. The whole thing was being run by Serpent, should have been the first clue of your imminent embarrassment, Peggy and Joan would both be performing, Kelvin prepared a wide variety of cold treats for audience enjoyment. By all accounts it would be a near flawless event within the MBCC.

"Alright, my lovely Sinners! You've all made an amazing audience for us tonight! But sadly, all good things must eventually end," Serpent speaks sadly, her voice echoing as she takes careful steps across the stage, "but since you have all made such a good audience, I do have one final little magic trick to show you all!"

It's almost time…

"I'm sure you've all been wondering what the number one, topmost, extra special mystery prize for the raffle is!" Murmurs excitedly weave through the crowd, "well wonder no more! This next trick will SHOW you!"

A pair of staff members roll a pair of large boxes onto the stage, both decorated with bright colors and swirling patterns. Serpent paces across the stage to stand next to one box.

"For this final trick, I will need an assistant, but this time, not from the audience. Tell me, lovely sinners, have you noticed someone missing out there?" Again murmurs rise in the quiet pause, "well everyone clap extra loud for my assistant in this final trick! The MBCC Chief!" She shouts excitedly, the music cue starting up in time with her words.

It's time…

You step out onto the stage to be met with the barrier of applause, all the shackled sinners that have been brought to the MBCC seated comfortably and smiling up at the revelry being displayed for them. A shy smile tugs at your lips, even if your humiliation is nigh, you need to keep the surprise safe.

It was months that this event was being planned and prepared, months that the final prize was a secret known only to you, and to Serpent who came up with the idea.

"Well Chief, just this once, I hold you'll forgive me for being the one to give orders!" Chuckles echo from the crowd, Serpent opens the large box beside her, "well, please step inside here! Wave the lovelies goodbye, Chief!" A small wave as you try to swallow your nerves, slowly sinking into the box as Serpent closes the lid over your head.

"Well with that started, I'll reveal to you all what it is I'll be doing!" Serpent starts, her heels clicking loudly as she walks away from the prop boxes, "a little trick of teleportation! You see, the Chief will disappear! And out of the other box, will be the number one raffle prize!" She explains excitedly, her own giddiness at the reveal being covered up by her normally bouncy attitude.

"Does anyone have any questions before we do this?" Serpent steps out towards the front edge of the stage.

A voice echoes slightly in the room, "what will happen to the Chief?" Nightingale's voice echoes, having been given the night off for the event.

"Oh I promise, the Chief will be just fine! She'll appear a little ways away is all!" Serpent nearly sings, "anyone else?"

Silence hangs, the air buzzing for the next, final, reveal.

Serpent clicks back to the boxes, tapping on the box you had gone into and causing the small structure to fall apart, revealing its newly emptiness. Murmurs echo as she steps across to the second box, resting her hand on its lid as she turns to face the audience.

"Now, on the count of three everyone!" She announces, inciting shouted participation from the audience.

"One!" Here it comes…

"Two!" Will there be any respect left for you?..

"Three!" Well, you guess it doesn't matter now…

Serpent lifts the lid, the box crumbling like the first did, and standing out from the remains…

The chief stands up, lifting one leg up behind them, back straight to their full height, one arm propped against their hip, the other raised in a peace sign in front of their face. All in a playboy bunny suit.

The sparkly cloth hugs skin tight, leaving not a single curve or line in your body to the imagination, the slightly too tight fishnet leggings giving your legs a squishing appearance, the stiletto high heels offering little support but add noticeable height, and the tall bunny ear headband sits over your head, one ear flopping downward from the movement of standing up.

Stunned silence is quickly stomped out by deafening applause and cheers, even from up on the stage, you can feel the burning gazes of the sinners on your body.

Serpent speaks to pull attention off you, if only slightly, "you see, Lovelies, our number one prize tonight, is a simple, but very intriguing one." She steps around to hold a hand out to the Chief, helping you step down from the box's display, "one night, no shackles, at least not for you, with the Chief! Anything you want to do, anywhere you want to go, all expenses paid by Minos! Just our lucky winner, and our lovely bunny Chief. Alone, and free to do whatever the winner wishes." Serpent practically purrs the last sentence, her own searing gaze being clear to anyone watching.

"So then, shall we start the game?"

[saintlike78]

Hey Love! Since u want to know my requests here go more one; Marauders x Fem!Reader (I'm a just a little bit obsessed about them hihi:), the reader is pregnant from her first baby and she's so emotional and sensitive cuz pregnancy hormones and she's crying for everything, at the same time she gets mad about anything, and she's horny all time, so she's like a mess of feelings.

(I thought this idea after seeing a scene from Grey's Anatomy, so if you want to check it out to understand; season 9, episode 12, minutes 02:40 to 04:00)

By; Cora🌈 (and the fic that u made about my last request is more perfect than I ever imagined <3)

Those stupid hormones [Poly Marauders]

A/N: Another great request from Cora! This was so fun to write. We all know that out three boys would be the sexiest dilfs ever, you can’t prove me wrong.

Pairings: Poly! Marauders x Fem! Pregnant! Reader

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: NSFW 16+, very soft and fluffy, dry humping, polyamorous relationship, pregnancy pains, mention of morning sickness and nausea. As always lmk if I missed anything.

The cool water dripped down your face as you stared at your flushed reflection; pink from the blush that had crept its way up your neck and latched itself onto your cheeks. The nap you had woken from had done nothing to soothe the surge of emotions that ran through you like electricity, the cause being the life growing in your belly. The news of your pregnancy had brought you and your husbands nothing but immense joy, but actually being pregnant was another story and you weren’t even that far along, already dreading the next few months filled with pain and changes – you just wanted your baby to be here already and spare you the grittiness in between.

Having dried your face with your towel and concluding that the pink that had overtaken your face and neck wasn’t going away, you made your way to the living room where the hushed voices of your husbands were residing. Trudging down the hallway you could feel the warmth between your legs, arousal churning, making your face even pinker than it already was.

Having finally made it to the living room you looked upon your three beautiful men, enjoying seeing them relaxed just being with each other and waiting for you.

James and Sirius were seated on the long couch, cuddled up in one end and conversing gently with one another, a rare sight of calm between the two.

Remus was sitting in the armchair with a book in hand focused on the words in front of him not paying attention to James and Sirius’ conversation, but smiling fondly when his eyes sometimes left the page to observe two of his lovers.

As Remus’ eyes left the page for his momentary check on Pads and Prongs, he caught sight of your figure looming in the doorway, a gentle smile on your face as you also observed the two men on the couch.

“Hi bun, good nap?” Remus asked as soon as he noticed you, closing and putting his book down on the small table beside the armchair; the two others looking up as well and smiling at you.

You only hummed in acknowledgment as you made your way towards the scarred man who’d asked the question, crawling on the chair to straddle his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck not giving him any time to process before your lips were on his in a needy kiss. Even though he was surprised, he reciprocated in no time wrapping his arms around your body and holding you closer to him. You whined lowly into the kiss as he slipped his tongue past your lips, your hips instinctively grinding down gently, testing the waters.

Your kiss was interrupted by the sound of Sirius clearing his throat very loudly and dramatically, not enjoying not being a part of whatever was going on between yourself and Remus. You turned your head to look at the culprit of the sound, breathing heavily as you stared at him with wide eyes, both James and Sirius looking back at you with a questioning raised eyebrow.

Remus placed a hand on your cheek to turn your face back to face his, his own brow also raised to match the two others' look of questioning.

“What’s going on Bunny? Not that I’m complaining, just curious,” Remus asked, but a cheeky smile and tone replacing his normal calm and serious voice.

Sirius adding to Remus’ question, “I’m also taking it you’re not cross with us anymore.” Sirius referring to the reason for you taking your nap; you practically being sent to bed after snapping at James for making your tea too hot, then being told off by Remus and Sirius only for you to cry and snap at them as well and Remus ‘suggesting’ a nap for you to cool down.

“No, I’m sorry for being mean… especially to you, Jamie,” you turned to look at James, giving him an apologetic smile.

“That’s okay, baby… I know you didn’t mean it,” he smiled back, his usual big goofy smile, letting you know that he wasn’t upset any longer, probably never was.

You turned back to Remus, looking into his eyes and letting yourself momentarily be lost in them, “I just really need you right now,” you said distractedly, earning yourself a smile from the lycanthrope you were seated on.

Remus leaned forward to kiss your nose, your face scrunching up in the process. His hands snaked around to grip under the back of your thigs before standing with you in his strong grasp, making the short journey to the couch and waiting for James and Sirius to break from each other so that he could seat himself between them.

When Remus was seated with you comfortably, James reached forward to tug a piece of hair behind your ear, stroking your cheek in the process.

“You feeling better, darling? You still feeling poorly?” James asked, your days lately having been filled with nausea, morning sickness, and discomfort.

“I’m feeling better… just a little achy,” you sighed.

“Where are you achy?” Sirius reached forward to rub up and down the expanse of your back, whilst his other hand rubbed gentle circles on your growing stomach.

“A little in my back… my boob… and my…” you paused, taking Sirius’ hand moving it lower on your stomach, right above your ache, “… here.”

“Ahh, I see,” Sirius nodded calmly, though Remus and James didn’t miss the small sparkle in Sirius’ eyes at the excitement.

You slowly started grinding your hips onto Remus’, frustrated tears gathering in your eyes at your desperation, “please,” you breathed out.

“Aww, bunny, don’t cry… we’ll help you out,” Remus laughed, grabbing your sides to stabilize you.

“Don’t laugh at me! I can’t help it… I’m so achy,” your frustration was clear, and the tears that had gathered threatened to spill.

“We’re not laughing, darling, you’re just so adorable,” James grinned, taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers with his.

“I’m sorry, please just help me… please,” the first tears fell and slowly ran down your cheeks as you continued your grinding, not actually sure why you were crying.

Sirius removed the hand from your back and wiped your tears with the pad of his thumb while cooing, “Don’t worry, puppy, we got you.”

With that he reached a hand into the loose shorts you were wearing, reaching under the waistband of your panties as well, not wanting to put any more stress on you by teasing, his fingers instantly found your clit.

You did miss the rougher sex you would have before you found out you were pregnant, but the boys refused to put you in any sort of stressful situation when you were already going through so many changes and experiencing so many things at once; they decided that it would be best to be soft and gentle with you unless you specifically requested something else.

“Go ahead, grind that pretty pussy on my hand until you cum, pretty pup,” Sirius said as his fingers slowly started rubbing circles on your clit as your hips picked up speed at his words.

A breathy moan left your lips followed by a whimper of pleasure as your eyes fluttered close at the sensation.

Remus’ hands had moved to hold your hips, aiding your movements and choosing the speed at which you moved.

James took your face in his hands, “eyes on me, darling,” he spoke to which you complied, opening your eyes to look at his face. James leaned in for a kiss, enjoying the noises you would choke on when you ran out of breath, the small whines and whimpers being enough for him to cum in his trousers, but he controlled himself – this was for you.

Sirius’ fingers picked up speed as saw the pleasurable shiver run through your body and the small twitch it was accompanied by.

Your breathing increased and the moans became less controlled as the familiar feeling of pleasure grew in the pit of your stomach. Remus picked up the speed of your hips, occasionally bucking his hips to create more friction and pressure for you, but also creating friction on his cock trapped in the restraints of his slacks. Remus’ breathing increased as well, a few grunts and small low moans could also be heard leaving his mouth.

“Gonna cum,” you moaned out as your hips lost their rhythm, stuttering slightly as the pressure in your abdomen gave away, your orgasm ripping through your body, hands gripping Remus’ shoulders to stabilize yourself as your body shook from the orgasm.

Sirius’ fingers were still working on your clit, working you through the feeling, the moans you were releasing like music to his ears.

Remus’ hips bucked once more before he shook as well, releasing a strangled and stuttering moan, his cum making a mess in his smart slacks. “Fuuuck… baby,” he breathed out as he came, his fingers gripping your hips, but not hard enough to hurt you.

Sirius’s grin was so large you were sure it would break his face. He removed his hand from your shorts, kissing your cheek before cheekily looking at Remus. James was trying to keep his smile at bay, but failed miserably, a small giggle escaping his lips.

“Damn, puppy, look what you did,” Sirius grinned.

You looked at Remus’ face, who sported a lopsided smile; you were always surprised at the effect you would have on them at times, this had happened before, but it wasn’t often.

You giggled slightly with James, “Sorry, Remmy.”

“No need to apologize… this is just what happens when an unbelievably sexy, soon-to-be milf sits on top of me,” he laughed, winking at the last statement, causing all of you to burst out laughing.

“You’re going to be the sexiest milf ever and we’ll be the sexiest dilfs, all the other parents are going to run away screaming,” Sirius joked, standing proudly to do a couple of poses, showing off his muscles, James standing as well to pose with him, another fit of laughter rolling through all of you.

You shook your head, “I love you, my most sexy, soon to be, dilfs.”

“We love you too, pretty baby.”

Tags: @dracosafety, @justadreamyhufflepuff, @teenwolfbitches28, @emma67, @trouble-in-space, @sciapod, @kermiemoon, @autumnandwinteraesthetics, @roonilwazlibswhore, @whitecastles, @sprucewoodlover, @lexi_shoto,

If crossed out it means I couldn’t tag you!

[hiddles-and-skittles]

Home, James

Pairing: Bucky x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,086

Summary: Sam and Bucky finally return home after a mission, but Bucky is stubborn about getting the help he needs for his ailments from an expert. He always chooses you.

Warnings: mutual pining/mutual idiots, mentions of injury but it's not graphic, honestly can't think of anything else but feel free to let me know!

Notes: Another self-indulgent piece lol. I liked the idea of Bucky intentionally getting hurt on a mission but refusing to go to a hospital because he'd rather you heal him. This has been sitting in my drafts for a while so I thought I’d just go ahead and post it.

______________

Two missions, back to back. It was happening more often lately, much to your dismay.  

The boys had been away for almost a month this time and while you enjoyed your solitude, it was getting rather lonely without Sam and Bucky bantering in the background.  

And okay, maybe it was lonelier without Bucky.  

You absolutely had a crush on your roommate that you and Sam adopted in. But if anything, he only saw you as a sister. Sam teased you relentlessly about liking him every time you denied it because you knew nothing would come of it, so why get your hopes up? Bucky was wonderful in every sense of the way, and even if he didn’t feel the same about you, you’d make damn sure to prove to him just how amazing he was. Even if it cost the entirety of your crushed heart.  

You are currently tucked into the living room sofa, sipping hot chocolate and watching reruns of Supernatural. Bobby drops his infamous one worded line of “Balls!” when your apartment door swings open to reveal to your two very sweaty, very exhausted roommates.    

You set your mug down and excitedly leap from your spot to greet them. Sam is all but dragging his feet across the floor and Bucky has a slight limp, but he straightens up when he notices you looking at him. “Oh my gosh, I’m so glad y’all are home!” you shut the door behind Bucky, who slumps back against it. “You guys okay? Either of you need any stitches?”  

“Well,” Sam starts. “I’m mostly intact. But I Robot over there? He’s worse than me, he just won’t say it out loud.” He discards his duffel bag next to the couch, flopping down onto it before getting comfortable.  

Bucky listlessly shoves himself away from the door. “I’m fine,” he growls, glaring at Sam. The thick tension between the duo makes it clear that they’ve been stuck together for far too long. He makes his way towards the refrigerator to probably look for a beer, but angrily slams the door back when he sees there isn’t any.  

You sigh. “Come on, Bucky, let me see.” He leans onto the table with his hands, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Slowly you walk over to him, gently laying a hand on his shoulder. You peer up at him earnestly. “Please show me?”  

*

You’re somewhat ungrateful for the bathroom light revealing the bloodied black eye that Bucky has. A freshly scabbed over cut trails from beneath his right clavicle and underneath his layers of clothing-how he constantly wears so many still manages to bewilder you. “Jesus Bucky, why do you always do this? You’re hurt! I swear I don’t know what to do with you.” You start to tug the hem of his shirt up to make him remove it when he grabs your wrist to stop you.

“’s okay. Nothing’s bleedin.’” Your eyes meet his. You don’t want to imagine how many bruises are littered across the super soldier’s torso.

“Except for that,” you gesture towards the purple ring around his eye that started oozing blood and water you don’t know how long ago. He winces as he adjusts himself, and you gather the supplies needed to treat his wound. “Seriously, Buck, you do this every time,” you fret while ringing out a rag that you’ve dampened with warm water. “Please take care of yourself. I’m not a nurse by any means; I only know a little from what Sam’s taught me. So if you happen to come home in pieces after a rough mission, I won’t be able to stitch you back together.” He twiddles his thumbs while peering up at you expectantly and you hook your index finger under his chin to stabilize your movements.

You don’t know.  

He doesn’t care how inexperienced you are about treating wounds. He doesn’t care. He almost counts on getting a nick or cut just so you’ll react the way you’re reacting right now, tenderly caressing him and making his heart flutter. He insists to Sam after every mission that he’s fine when they both know he isn’t because he knows that you’ll tend to him. Always. He doubts any random nurse would ever treat him the way you do and he’s reluctant to find out. You take your time with him, checking him over to see if there’s a wound he’s fibbed about, trying to appear tougher to you is what you think.  

And oh, there it is.  

That hesitant touch of yours that’s grown confident the more he’s sat before you with that kicked puppy look. You dab onto the surface of the scrape and he nudges into your palm so subtly you barely catch it. His eyes close as he exhales, finally allowing himself to relax into the familiarity. You face the sink once more after you disinfect him, washing your hands a good while to get all the blood off. Bucky breaks the silence. “You’re like the housewife I never got to have.”

You snort out a short laugh at his admission, ringing out the rag for a second time. “Don’t call me a housewife.”

“You cook, clean-”  

“-I work a mean microwave,” you interrupt, smiling. “Who else is gonna clean up the mud you drag in with you?”  

“-you patch us up,” he continues, seeming agitated.

“When I have to. But Bucky, I swear you do this on purpose,” you teasingly raise an eyebrow at him.

“You make me feel right at home,” he blurts impatiently.  

“Ha!” you lay the rag over the ledge of the sink to air dry. “Sure I do.” Bucky doesn’t respond so you take a chance to glance down at him, not realizing the sincerity behind his words. “You’re...not joking.” He shies away, a bit of blush sneaking up his neck.  

All the times you’ve both ended up in this position, with Bucky sitting either on the side of the tub or the lid of the toilet, gazing up at you and anticipating your mild scolding, your attentive touches...everything. You only joked half-heartedly when you’d said he did this on purpose, but the more you think about this, in retrospect, you believe it’s true. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Well, in that case...” you bend down to cradle his bruised cheeks in your hands, running your thumbs along his cheekbones. The second his pleading eyes meet yours, you press a tender kiss to his busted lips. 

“...welcome home, James.”

[dirty-brainrot]

(Are you okay?)

Ha! You thought it was a Jotaro (or Kira) x Reader that I promised? No! KONO DIAVOLO DA!

Pairing: Diavolo x reader

Today was the day. The day that everybody hated and oh so despised. The day that you tried so hard to postpone.

Chores day.

There was nothing you could do but clean up the whole house and so you did, with a gloomy mood. Starting from your bedroom to the living room, you dusted and removed any lingering trash. The more you dusted the more unbearable the silence got. So you placed the broom aside, deciding to grab your phone to blast to music to get motivated and remove the silence.

On the way to your room, you hear a scream followed by foreign (you assumed it was something italian) words that you couldn't make out of. You stopped in your tracks, confused, then you heard a loud thump. Running to your room, you slammed the door open. The cranky mood you had, disappeared and changed into confusion and anxiety.

Your eyes widen upon the first thing you see. There laid a top-less man, his torso was full with tattoos? It looked like tattoos. And he had a long pink-ish hair that has weird green blobs on it. He was tangled in your bed sheet, scared shitless as if he died over and over again. The mysterious man was still screaming in panic and wriggling around the floor, not noticing your presence. Cautiously, you approached the panicked stranger and kneeled beside him to remove the cover.

He had stopped screaming but he was still panicking. The man was breathing hard and his eyes looked like he was on the verge of crying too. "Make it stop— MAKE IT STOP!" He cried out while he held his arms up, cowering in fear.

"Stop what, sir?" You softly ask him, afraid that if you made your voice louder you would freak him out more. Slowly, he lowers his arms and latches himself to you. "Please! Make it stop!" Uncomfortable by the physical contact, you push him away. "I-I don't think I understa—" He held onto you tighter but you managed to push him off you. Scared yet concerned for the man, you bolted to your phone and grabbed it. "W-Wait!" He calls out to you but you ran into the bathroom and locked yourself in. Quickly dialing the emergency services, you hear him bang his fist on the door.

Now you were full-blown frightened. First, he appeared in your bedroom then next he screams about making something stop? Snapping out of your thoughts, you could hear the stranger start to sob. Your fingers hovered to press the call button but you hesitated as you hear his crying start to get louder.

You surely will regret this— You turned off your phone and placed it in your pockets. Nervously, you unlocked the door to see the pink-haired man crying on the floor, shaking. Your breath hitched as you felt some sort of pity for him. "U-um— hey..."

Sitting down beside him, you tentatively placed your hand on his back, he flinched and stiffens up at the contact but relaxed once you started rubbing comforting circles. "Hey, hey, it's alright. I—I think it uh... Stopped...?" His breath stabilized but he was still slightly shaking. Raising his face, he looks at you. You grimaced after getting a proper look at his face. Damn...this dude looks like a mess...

"I-It's been almost a minute now..." He wipes off his tears and you withdraw your hand from his back, thinking he was stable enough.

"HOW DARE THEY DO THAT TO AN EMPEROR! A KING!—"

"Woah, watch your mouth sir, maybe that's what got you into trouble in the first place." He immediately closed his mouth as he looks at you, baffled. He furrows his brows again and points at you, raising himself a tad bit so he towers over you. "YOU DON'T KNOW ABOUT ANYTHING I WENT THROUGH—"

You cut his outburst again. "Listen sir, I don't know what happened but I do know it's bad but you don't have to shout." After you finished your sentence, he looks at you, his expression told him he was infuriated. The so-called "king" was about to have another outburst until he rubbed his face with his hands.

He sighs, defeated. "Do you know where I am..?" "Well, that was fast." You thought before speaking. "You're in [Country] and if you're thinking what date it is today— it's August 30, 2021." He weakly nods, before freezing. His expression darkened as he starts to panic again. "2021?!—" He rose from the floor, leaning beside the wall for balance. "Yep! 2021 and we're in a middle of a pandemic too."

He grabs your shoulder. "PANDEMIC?!" He shouts while shaking your shoulders aggressively, making you wince from the loud noise and become nauseous from the shaking. You shoved his hands off you. "Y-yes, there is a pandemic."

He sat back down and placed his hands on his head. It was silent for a while and you could only watch the man mumble and have an existential crisis. "Uh, sir—" he snaps out of his thoughts and looks at you. "Could you tell me your name and what happened?"

Looking at you with reluctance, he tells you his name. "Diavolo." You nodded then tilted your head slightly. "So like, the devil?" Ruffling his hair, he sighs and answers shortly. "Yeah."

You hummed. "So Diavolo, I'm guessing a wizard sent you to the future and probably tortured you in the process while getting transported here." He, for the first time, chuckles. "You're not far off." You opened your mouth and made an ":O" face in surprise.

He could be possibly a deranged man or he could be actually someone from an alternate reality or the past. "I don't know how to start this— I was a don of a mafia and got beaten by a 16-year-old. So now I died multiple times for punishment—" He suddenly stops, you looked at him with confusion. You heard him mumble something "crimson" and swear in Italian afterward. "You alright? Are you having another panic attack?" He grunts and shakes his head. "As I was trying to say; I was forced to die multiple times because of a kid who had a dream and his gang of brats."

You nodded and stayed silent not knowing what to say. "Oh! Uhm- I forgot to introduce myself! I'm Y/N." He leans back and nodded. Sitting upright you added, "I don't know how you got here, in my room, but I'll just believe you for now." The two of you sat in silence, not knowing what to do not say. 'At least he's calm now.' You thought.

"You're oddly calm."

"Huh?" You stare at him dumfounded. "Oh— I guess 2021 keeps getting weirder and at this point I don't even want to bother anymore."

After your response it was quiet again. Glancing at the messy bed, you had an idea. "Hey— Can you help me clean?" You look at him while nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. 'Asking a stranger to help you clean? He did made a mess so...' Diavolo sighs and stands up. "I guess... But do you have any food first? The loop made me famished."

Following his actions, you stood up and gave him a small smile. "Alright! follow me, magical stranger."

Jofoe in your home series: Kars, Kira

[redpandaramblings]

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 3.

Part 1- Here

Previous part Here

Next Part Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate, Shinso/Denki side relationship

Where we left off-

You glanced up at the sound of the door. In came your parents, then the Yokomadas. You did a double take as the final person, the omega you were here to meet, entered the room. They looked equally as startled as your eyes locked.

“Y/N?”

“Denki?!”

You slowly walked through the teahouse garden, your electric blond friend oddly silent as he kept pace with you. Your parents and the Yokomadas had allowed the two of you a bit of privacy to talk. So far, neither of you had mustered the courage to break the awkward atmosphere. Neither your parents or the Yokomadas had seemed to pick up on Denki or your mood. If anything, they were thrilled you two already knew each other. With a sigh, you sat on a bench by the koi pond, not looking at the blond as to settled down next to you. After several minutes, he spoke.

“So. What are you doing here?”

You snorted, and gently dumped your shoulder against his.

“Right back at you, Pikachu.”

“I’ll tell you. After you tell me.”

You chuckled humorously, and tilted your head back to look at the sky.

“Would you believe me if I said I was just here to appease my mother?”

Denki considered for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. You’ve been saying no to her for years. So tell me, why are you here.”

You take a deep breath and let it out again slowly through your nose.

“I… I think I wanted to be here. Needed to.” You wrung your hands, throwing a sideways glance at Denki. “I… I want to be mated. Have a family. Have someone who needs me and lets me need them. I used to think Kat… I used to think Bakugou was my person. But I’m not sure anymore, Denks. You know what he’s like and so do I, but I’ve waited for years, and nothing, and I’m so tired, and I’m not even sure he even likes me anymore, and…” You’re stopped by Kaminari gently rubbing your back.

“Breath, Y/n. Come on. Deep breaths.”

You inhaled shakily. You hadn’t even noticed you’d been hyperventilating. Quiet settled again, aside from the sounds of nature and your slowly slowing breathing. After a few moments, you spoke again.

“I’m just so lonely, Denks. I see him every day, and I’m still so goddamn lonely. So I think… I think it’s time to let go.” Your lips twitched slightly upward as you tilt your head to look at him. “Am I terrible?”

Denki huffed out a breath and shook his head. “You? Never.” He sighed, removing his hand from you back as he began picking at the hem of his sleeve. “I wish I could say I didn’t understand. But I do. I’m kinda here for the same reason after all.”

You gave an encouraging hum and reached out, taking his hand in yours and running your thumb over his knuckles. He interlaced your fingers, giving a squeeze before continuing to speak.

“You know how I feel about Shinso, right?”

“I think everyone but Shinso knows how you feel about him.”

Denki snorted. “Yeah. Not surprised. But that’s the problem. I’ve liked him for years. Little bit of a crush but at UA, thought I could play it cool and it would go away; but then the agency paired us together and, well.” Denki gestured with the hand not holding yours. “It was so easy! I’d go boom! And then he’d go pow! Then shoom! It was amazing! He was amazing… And so I tried to get his attention. I tried so damn hard. And you know me.”

You snorted, giving his hand a squeeze. “You’re about as subtle as a brick through a living room window.”

“Exactly!” He shouted, pulling away to stand up and pace. “I flirted. I used all my best pick up lines. I asked him out to the club, and he said yes. But do you know what he said afterward? He said though it wasn’t his usual scene, it was really good being able to hang out with a friend. I… I asked him to spend my heat with me.”

You inhaled sharply. Kaminari looked at you with an expression you hardly recognized. He collapsed onto the bench, leaning heavily against you.

“He said ‘I’m glad you’re that comfortable with me, but it probably would be better for you to ask someone else.’” Denki whispered, sniffling.

“Oh.. Denki.” You wrapped your arms around the blond, squeezing him tightly. Half out of instinct, you tried to pump out soothing pheromones while you gently scented his hair. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing, sweetheart. You’re a wonderful omega!”

That was all it took for Denki to start sobbing heavily in your arms. You squeezed him tightly as tears filled your own eyes. The tears fell when Denki wrapped his arms around you, hugging you just as tightly as you held him. There in the tranquil garden you both huddled together as you finally allowed yourself to cry. Years of hurt and longing fell from your eyes one drop at a time.

You weren’t sure how long it had been when the two of you slowly pulled away from each other. You used your thumbs to wipe Denki’s cheeks. He gave you a halfhearted smile.

“So,” you asked tentatively, “what should we do? They’re going to expect an answer from us about this whole…” You waved a vague hand “Marriage date thing.”

Denki hummed, puffing up his cheeks as he blew out a breath. “God, I don’t know. Certainly wasn’t expecting it be you, you know? No offense.”

You drew back, gasping in mock anger. “Full offense!” You could only hold your expression a few seconds before you started snickering.

Denki grinned his first really grin of the day. “Well excuuuuse me for insulting your alpha sensibilities.”

“You’re excused. For now.”

You both chuckled. Looking out at the pond, you spoke again. “I just wish I had the right answers. And I really wish we had more time.”

Denki furrowed his brow. “Well… Technically, we could.”

“What do you mean?”

Denki bounced on his seat. “Okay. So. Hear me out. We both need time to process, clearly. Also clearly, our families are just not gonna give us that. So… Why don’t we do this?”

“Wait. Wait. We do this?” you asked, both curious and incredulous.

“Yeah! Think about it. One! They mainly want us in relationships they approved of. They set us up, so clearly, they approve. Two! If we say we’d like to try out this match, they obviously aren’t going to set up any more dates; therefore buying us time. And bonus of no annoying randos. Three! We can say we’re going to take the relationship slow because we’ve both been burned before and want to make sure. Four! Four…” Denki trailed off, looking at his feet.

“Four is maybe if we can’t find a love match at least we’re friends who work well together?” You murmured.

Denki nodded, glancing at you with a rueful smirk. “Yeah. Exactly. Vibe on the same wavelength. Hell, we even want similar shit in life.”

“Actual house, few pets, stability…”

Denki nodded again. “Sucks, but would make sense for us to consider it. As much as I fucking hate the ‘You’re not getting any younger’ speech, they are kind right. We can’t waste all our time waiting for things that aren’t gonna happen.”

You shook your head with a chuckle. “God, don’t you hate it when they’re right about shit like that?”

“You have no idea.”

You stood, stretching. “Well, I guess we go tell them, then.”

Denki groaned. “There isn’t enough saki in the world for that conversation.”

“And just so we’re clear, this stays between us for now, right? No one knows but us, our folks, and I guess your cousins.”

“Agreed. I don’t want to think about what anyone would say. Bakugou would kill me!”

You winced. “Unlikely. I doubt he’d care. But if Mina finds out, everyone will know.”

“You’re not kidding. No worries from me, I don't want this getting out any more than you do.”

“So… Engaged, I guess?”

Denki dusted himself off and stood. “Deal. Engaged.” Denki stuck his hand out, and you shook it.

You both turned and started making your way back to the teahouse, taking your time and going the long way to be sure to avoid and of the other patrons. This was fine. A good plan. Nothing could go wrong as long as no one found out.

And there you have part 3! Sorry the wait and thank you all for being patient! If anyone has any questions regarding the fic or how this particular omegaverse operates, please feel free to shoot me an ask. Also, please note that @snuggleyourredpandas is my main account, so it you see a message reply from them, that's me!

TAGLIST- @yzviea, @not-a-pushover, @thelilypieforever, @kumihayu, @aomi04, @ladybakugouu, @one-simp-more, @hakunamatatayqueen, @my-thoughts-are-weird, @left-alone-yuki, @officialtrashbusiness Just a reminder, if you want tagged make sure you have the ability to be tagged turned on; and I'd have to be informed if your blog name changes! Cheers, Darlings!

[bokettochild]

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

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

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

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

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

Right now, he can’t.

Because right now, he’s a freaking rabbit

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just a moment....

A second more...

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

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

“Fi, explain.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Someone’s scratching his ears.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s official.

Legend hates being a bunny.

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

And he can’t eat it.

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

He feels like a baby and he hates it.

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

He really hates being a bunny.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sky does curl around him and he’s trapped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Legend’s missing.”

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

“I don’t think so.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You watch camp, I’ll go out there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No fae dares mess with the Charge of another.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s not a question.

“I’m, uh, half fairy.”

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

And by useful, Hyrule knows Legend means cool.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s how they wake the next morning.

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

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

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

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

[maximons]

Without You

Summary: Everything seems to be going alright for Wanda Maximoff, but a mission gone horribly awry makes everything crash and burn.

Word Count: 3,101

Genre: Angst

Requested?: Yes

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood, burns, scarring

A/N: Alright kids, you ready for angst time? My first full out angst fic, oh boy. This ones got no happy ending guys, so do with that what you will. This takes place during Civil War, so spoilers...? I guess? I’d say Happy Reading, but I don’t think you guys will be that happy by the end of this sooo good luck!

Lagos.

That’s the place where everything in Wanda’s life fell apart. Or at least fell apart even further than it had before.

Some of the team were out on a mission. You guys finally managed to track down Rumlow and his gang after about a year of searching. Everything was going fairly well, yes there was some collateral damage, and things didn’t exactly go according to plan, but overall, it looked like you guys would come out of this with a win.

And then, it happened.

Wanda and you had begun to jog up to Steve’s location, where you saw him stare Rumlow down. Something in you just told you that this wasn’t going to go well. You looked at the scene in front of you, and then your gaze fell onto the building behind it. It was too close for comfort.

“Babe, I’m gonna go check that building.” You turned to your girlfriend. “Looks like there could be a lot of people in there, I’m gonna try to get them out.” She looked at you, and then to the building briefly. Part of her wanted to question why when the fight was happening out here, but she knew in your line of work things can be unpredictable.

She nodded. “Okay, be safe.” You nodded back with a small smile, and pecked her on the cheek.

“Always am.” With that, you ran off.

It was only about two or three minutes after you ran in when things went to hell.

Rumlow pulled a pin on his vest, and Wanda reacted as quickly as she could, capturing him mid explosion in her magic. She lifted him up, trying to get him as far away from the people below as possible, but she couldn’t hold it anymore. The explosion went off.

Blowing a huge hole into that building.

Wanda stood there, shocked for a moment over what just happened. Her hand came and slowly covered her mouth, mind going over all the damage she just caused. She vaguely heard Steve calling for fire and rescue, and then it hit her.

You were in there.

“Y/n...” She whispered, still in a state of shock, but she quickly snapped out of it and sprang into action. “Y/n!” She heard Steve yell for her to wait, but she didn’t care. She took off, flying up and landed in one of the building’s destroyed floors.

She did her best to ignore the carnage around her, carnage she caused. She pushed down the bile that was rising in her throat, and continued her search for you. 

And then she found you.

You were a super soldier, so luckily you didn’t die from the blast, she could still feel your pulse. But you didn’t look good.

You were lying on the charred floor, unconscious. Half of your suit was burned off, leaving nasty burns all on your arm and torso, some even creeping up your neck and face. Blood also dripped down from an open wound on your temple.

Wanda couldn’t bring herself to care about your appearance, though. You were still alive, and that’s the main thing she cared about right now.

“Don’t worry.” She sobbed out, hand gently caressing your unburned cheek. “You’re okay...you’re gonna be okay...” She tore her gaze away from you for a minute, and looked around. Tears falling at the sight of multiple bodies, people who weren’t as lucky as you.

People who were dead because of her.

“...I’m so sorry...”

The next week was chaos.

You were brought to the compound’s medical facility immediately, doctors working fast to try and save your life. They managed to stabilize you, now it was just a waiting game as to when you would wake up. Wanda would visit you everyday, barely being able to leave your side. Steve managed to convince her that she needed to rest, saying that you wouldn’t want to see her neglecting her needs. She hesitantly complied, and finally went to her room to sleep for the night.

The next morning, the news started reporting the incident.

And of course they blamed her.

Logically, Wanda knew this wasn’t entirely her fault. Rumlow was the one who turned himself into a bomb. She was just trying to save the lives below. That thought brought her little comfort though.

She was still responsible for the lives lost in that building. She was still responsible for you, the love of her life, being severely injured and in a coma.

Maybe they were right.

Steve didn’t let her wallow in that thought for too long though, because he shut the TV off. He sat down and gave her one of his hope speeches, and she appreciated the effort, but she didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s my fault.” She whispered. “All of those people, dead because of me...and Y/n...” She trailed off, tears forming in her eyes. Steve placed a hand on her leg, trying to comfort her.

“You know...she doesn’t blame you, I know she doesn’t.”

“Maybe she should...they all should.”

Steve couldn’t get anything else out, as Vision phased in the room and told them of the arrival of Secretary Ross.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, he had told them about the Sokovia Accords. Wanda hated the idea, forcing heroes to register with the government, essentially making them puppets for them. She knew you would hate it too, you never were one to trust the government.

“Look, we understand where you’re coming from, but if it weren’t for us, there’d be a lot more blood spilled.” Sam argued.

“Tell that to the innocent civilians in that Lagos hospital building.” Ross argued back. “Oh wait, you can’t.”

“If it weren’t for Wanda, hundreds of people in the streets below would have been killed.” Steve cut in. “If it weren’t for Y/n, hundreds of more people would have been in that building.”

“And look where that landed her.”

Wanda had enough. She shot up from her chair, and stormed out of the room.

She went straight to your hospital room, your still unconscious body covered in bandages. She pulled up a chair beside your bed, hand going to grip yours. She tried to speak, but couldn’t bring herself to form the words. So she just rested her head on your joined hands and cried.

The next few weeks saw the Avengers falling apart, divided over the accords. Wanda was especially disappointed in Natasha’s decision, given that you two were best friends. 

Wanda hasn’t left the compound. Most of her time was spent visiting you and sleeping as best she could. Your burns had begun healing, but barely. They still left pretty nasty scars. Your breathing had improved, which satisfied the doctors. They had said you could wake up any moment now, Wanda just hoped it was soon.

The next day, Wanda walked into the kitchen to find Vision cooking. She found that odd, since she knew he didn’t eat, but he explained that he was making it for her. You used to cook for her a lot, and after a few disasters, you finally got the recipe down. Vision’s was no where near as good as yours, but she appreciates the effort.

After a conversation about their powers and their fear of them, Wanda volunteered to go to the store to pick up some paprika that would greatly help the dish. Vision stopped her.

“Vision...are you not letting me leave?”

“It’s a matter of safety.”

“I can handle myself.”

Vision stopped her again. “Not yours. Mr. Stark would like to avoid the possibility of another public incident.”

Wanda looked at the synthezoid in disbelief. “I’m not an out of control time bomb. It was an accident.”

“I know. I do, but...you powers are very unpredictable. You are also...vulnerable. My scanners have indicated you are, how you say, ‘on edge’. You have been ever since Miss L/n was admitted in the medical wing.”

Wanda’s gaze turned into a harsh glare. “I know that human emotion is a foreign concept to you Vision, but trust me, if your girlfriend was ever put in a coma because of you...being ‘on edge’ is the least you would be.”

Without waiting for a response, Wanda turned around and stormed off. She headed to the one place that her feet often dragged her to the last weeks. Your bedside. 

She sat and took a hold of your hand. She stared at you for a moment before she spoke. “Hey, baby. Things have been...hard without you to say the least. Not that this wouldn’t be hard anyway, but everything is falling apart. These stupid accords are ruining everything. Tony has become a government pet, Nat joining him, Steve is off doing who knows what, and now...I’m locked in.” She paused. “You know, as much as I wish more than anything that you were awake and by my side right now...part of me is glad that you wouldn’t have to see your family fall apart like this. It’d break your heart...” She stayed for a few more moments, staring at your face and taking in your features once again. She then leaned down to kiss your hand. “I love you.” With that, she left.

Later that night, Wanda was back in the main room of the compound. You still haven’t woken up, she just learned she was essentially on house arrest, so she was trying to find ways to find ways to distract herself. She was reading a book, when she heard a loud explosion go off outside. She walked over to the window to take a look, Vision joining her a few moments later.

“What is it?”

“Stay here please.”

Wanda was left alone for a moment, before she felt a presence behind her. She quickly grabbed hold of the knife on the table, and flinging it towards the new presence. She halted it when she saw who it was.

Clint.

The next few minutes passed by like a blur. Clint was convincing her to come help Steve, Vision came back in but was trapped, Wanda hesitated and Clint gave her one of those hope speeches. She was about to decline, before he said one last thing.

“You know, if Y/n was awake...I know she’d side with Steve, and she’d only hope you’d do the same.”

Was it manipulative? Possibly, but he was also right. You would have sided with Steve, no question. Doing what you could to help. She thought on it for a few more moments, before she nodded. They were about to leave before Vision broke free. The two men fought, and before she knew it, she was sending the synthezoid several floors down and into the ground. 

She went to her room, quickly packing her suit and anything else she thought she would need. She went back out to meet Clint, about to leave, but she stopped.

“Wait! I gotta see Y/n first.” 

Clint sighed, but knew he couldn’t deny her of this. “Alright, make it quick.”

She booked it to your hospital room. You were lying there, same as you have been for a while. She quickly surged forward grabbed your hand, not bothering to sit. She knew they didn’t have time.

“Alright, baby. I’m gonna go out for a bit, okay? I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but...I’m going to do what’s right. I’m going to fight. I finally ‘got off my ass’ as you would say.” She chuckled, but it held no real joy behind it. “I just hope you’d be proud of me...and I just hope that I can come back to see you-”

Wanda cut herself off when she felt you begin to move. All of a sudden your face shifted, and you began to turn your head. 

“Y/n?...”

You began to open your eyes slowly, head slowly lifting off your pillow. Your eyes looked around, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room. Before you could even look at Wanda though, you began coughing. 

Wanda rushed to poor you a glass of water, knowing your mouth would be dry from not using it for a while. She handed it to you, quickly, and you slowly raised your hand to take it. As you began to drink, Wanda couldn’t help but smile. You were finally awake. She was beyond relieved. She was put in a rough spot now, she knew she had to meet Clint so they could go, but...you were finally awake. She couldn’t leave you.

“Wanda, we gotta go!” She heard Clint yell, and without tearing her eyes away from you, she yelled back.

“In a minute! Y/n just woke up!”

She didn’t hear a response from the man, but she heard footsteps quickly making its way towards your room. 

You finished drinking your water and placed the cup on the bedside table. You began to try to sit up, but Wanda rushed to your side to help.

“Here you go, easy.”

When you fully sat up, you took in the appearance of the woman next to you. You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” She breathed out. You looked her in the eyes, smile still on both your faces. But, Wanda’s smile dropped instantly at the next words that came out of your mouth.

“Sorry, hi, I’m Y/n. You probably already knew that though.” You chuckled nervously. “Are you one of the nurses?”

Wanda froze. No. This couldn’t be happening. The doctors told her that Amnesia was a possibility since you hit your head on impact from the blast, but it never seemed like a real threat. She stared at you, jaw slacked for a few more moments.

“Um, hello?...Oh! Are you my doctor? Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.”

Wanda snapped out of it when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to see it was Clint. You spoke up again before she could say anything though.

“Oh, hey, are you a nurse? Or doctor?”

Realization filled Clint’s face, but he held it together. He simply shook his head.

“Oh...so, is someone supposed to help me or...?” You trailed off. 

Clint looked to Wanda, who was still in shock, tears beginning to form in her eyes. He knew he had to take over, get them out as soon as possible. “Sorry, Y/n. We’ll get your nurse to come and check on you. Glad to see you’re awake.” Before you could respond, he quickly rushed out of the room, pulling Wanda with him.

Wanda finally let herself break down, and cried in the van. She barely had time to process everything before they picked up a man name Scott and flew to the airport to meet Steve.

Steve broke down the plan and the team went separate ways to suit up and get in position. Except Wanda. Steve was about to go get himself ready, but paused when he saw the witch frozen in place.

“Wanda? You okay?” Wanda simply shook her head and looked up at him, he could see the tears in her eyes. “What happened?”

“Y/n woke up.”

Steve raised his eyebrows in shock. “She did? That’s great-” He was cut off when Wanda let out a sob. He then put two and two together, something was wrong. “...What was it?”

“She...doesn’t remember anything...doesn’t remember me...”

Steve sighed. He was saddened by the news as well, you and him were very close, both being super soldiers and all. He couldn’t even imagine what Wanda was going through in this moment though, so he put on a brave face. He went over to the witch and wrapped an arm around her. “Y/n is strong...when this is over, we’ll go see her and start-” Steve was cut off again when Wanda shook her head.

“Steve...you and I both know this isn’t gonna end with us just being able to go back...” She looked up at him. He was about to speak up again, when he heard Sam in his ear.

“Cap, Tony and Rhodey are flying in now. You good to go?” 

Steve looked to Wanda, knowing she heard him too since they all had coms. She nodded. “On my way.” He turned to leave, before giving Wanda one last look. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”

It wasn’t.

The fight at the airport was beyond tiresome, and they lost. Steve and Bucky got away to handle the other Winter Soldiers, but the rest of the team was captured.

So now here she was, sitting in a cell in a high security prison in the middle of the ocean...with a straight jacket and shock collar on. Wanda couldn’t even be upset about it. She was numb. She’s already lost everything she possibly could. Her parents, her brother, her country, and now...you. She couldn’t bring herself to care whether or not she wasted away in this cell. Maybe she deserved to.

But of course, she couldn’t even have that for long, as Steve broke them out a few days later.

Up on the quinjet with Steve and the rest of the team, she sat alone, staring out the window watching the dark clouds pass by. After a few moments, she felt a presence next to her. She looked over to see who it was. Natasha.

“What are you doing here?” Wanda asked, looking back out the window. 

“It’s a long story.” She answered. “Steve told me what happened, I...I’m not even sure what to say. I am so sorry Wanda.” Wanda merely nodded, not trusting her voice right now. Natasha took a deep breath and continued. “Y’know...I can pull some strings, the ones I have left anyway. Get Y/n relocated to be with us. I know she doesn’t remember anything right now, but-”

“No.” Wanda cut her off, surprising the redhead.

“Wha...what do you mean ‘no’?”

Wanda had thought about it, she’s thought about it the entire time she was in the Raft. She would love nothing more than to see you again, to hold you and help you on your recovery, but...she couldn’t. She was a wanted fugitive now, and you were only in this predicament because of her...she had to be selfless here. She couldn’t bring you into this life, not when you were missing chunks of your own.

“I mean no.” She said, looking up into Natasha’s eyes, tears pooling in her own. “She’s better off.”

And with that, Wanda got up, walking towards the back of the jet to be alone. She took a deep breath, and prepared herself. Preparing herself for a new life as a fugitive on the run. And most importantly...

Preparing for a life without you.

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 23 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

hello my loves! Some of you may have already seen this, but I have news! This fic is officially complete. There are thirty chapters, so you still have seven left after today’s update. I’ll be keeping the usual Tuesday/Saturday posting schedule, so you have a month left of updates.

Now that I am done drafting this fic, my requests will be open while I begin to bank up new chapters of the Hotch x Reader Scandal!AU that I plan to write next. Please send in requests here. I would also LOVE if you could fill out this survey about the Scandal!AU so I can get a sense of what you all would like. I will make sure to write it in a way that makes sense, even if you haven’t seen Scandal! 

As always, thanks so much for reading, y’all are just the best. 

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

contains: canon-typical descriptions of violence, cursing, hospital mention

wordcount: 2.3k 

A little while later, Hotch sends JJ and Emily to the school to interview the classmates of the students who had been murdered, and you and Morgan head off to the medical examiner’s office. 

“Find anything interesting in the calls from the tip line?” Morgan asks you as he pulls out of the parking lot, and you shrug. 

“I need to go back through my notes. There were a couple kids' names that came up, but I want to go back and cross check for the names that came up more than once-- i figure if the name only comes up once, it’s kids pranking each other and I don’t want to waste our time on dead ends. Garcia’s looking into a teacher for me, though.” 

“We just need a couple more puzzle pieces, and then it’ll all come together,” Derek says, more to himself than to you, and you murmur out your agreement as he pulls into the examiner’s office.

“Cause of death for Mrs. Mack and Mrs. Sutton was a gunshot wound to the neck. The daughters, to the abdomen,” the doctor says, passing over her report. “The men were all strangled. The boys by hand, the men with a garrote.”

“Any idea what order they were killed in?” You asked. 

“My guess is the women first, one right after the other. Then the sons, and the husbands.” 

“How did he stop the husbands from taking him down while he killed the sons?” Morgan asks skeptically. 

The medical examiner points out a bruise on Mr. Sutton’s skull. “Looks like he was knocked unconscious, maybe by the butt of the gun or something in the home.” She explains.

“Thank you,” you said to the medical examiner, who smiled and left you both to your work.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Morgan asks you.

“White man in his twenties or thirties, snubbed by a woman he desired for another man, taking out the families he’s convinced he’ll never have?” 

“Call Hotch,” he said, taking off at a brisk pace back towards the car and trusting you to follow. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and discovered that Garcia was already calling you. 

“Hi Garcia, can you patch Hotch in?” You asked. 

“Already here bug, and trust me, you’re gonna want to hear this.” She told you, and you put the phone on speaker so Morgan could listen in while he drove. 

“What did you find, Garcia?” Hotch asked. 

“So, I looked into Marc Vexper, and it turns out this long-term English sub has something to hide-- he didn’t make a single card purchase on either day that he was out, and his phone was completely off from the moment he stepped off the school’s campus to the time he returned.” 

“Morgan and I are just leaving the medical examiner’s office now-- Marc fits the profile to a tee.” You interject. 

“Oh but wait, the high school of horrors doesn’t end there,” Garcia warns you. “I took a peek at Marc’s texts looking for clues about his whereabouts, and I noticed some too-friendly chats with Victoria Sullivan, a student in his AP Literature class. Her phone was on both days, and I’ll give you one guess as to where she was both days-- and it wasn’t school.” 

“You’re kidding,” Morgan sighs out. 

“So did he groom Victoria into doing it herself, or was she an accomplice?” Hotch asked. 

“The men were strangled, Aaron. There’s no way she could have done that herself.” You tell him. 

“We need an address, Penelope.” Hotch demands. 

“Already on your phone. The station’s closest.” She tells you. 

“We’ll meet you there.” Hotch says, and the line clicks. 

In a routine you’ve performed too many times to count, Morgan flicks on the lights and sirens as you mount your phone with the GPS sending you in the right direction. It’s all the same as it usually is, so why are you so nervous? 

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

Hotch elects not to put on his lights and sirens as he approaches Mr. Vexper’s house, not wanting to alert him that anyone had found him out. There are two cars in the driveway-- a modest sedan with a few dings in it, and a shitbox of an old jeep with a parking permit for the local high school on the back bumper. 

“The girl is here-- she might be a hostage.” Hotch tells Spencer, who nods. “We need to be careful. There’s no need for any other kids to lose their lives,” he says, quietly opening up his car door and gesturing for Spencer to take a back entrance while he takes the front. He climbs the worn wooden steps and peeks into the window, seeing nothing before he takes one hand off of his gun to swing open the front door of the home, where he’s met face to face with the Victoria Sullivan, standing on the main stairway of the home, gun leveled square at the middle of his forehead. 

“Victoria, put the gun down,” Hotch says slowly, raising his own hands as a sign of good faith. “I’m here to help you. Where’s Marc?”

Before Victoria can answer, Hotch hears the woosh of metal in the air and feels an overwhelming crack in his legs, falling to the ground as he yelps in pain. 

“Run, Vicky! You know where to go!” Marc yells, and the girl disappears from Hotch’s blurring line of vision as March continues to beat on Hotch with a crowbar, stomping on his legs. 

Hotch vaguely hears Spencer's running footsteps, and Marc takes off, running in the same direction as Victoria. 

Spencer falls to the ground next to Hotch, attempting to gently tend to his injuries, but Hotch weakly waves him off. 

“Go, go, save the girl, he’ll kill her next. I’m okay. Go,” he coughs out, and after a moment’s hesitation, Spencer goes. 

Hotch groans as he gropes around in his pants pocket, pulling out his cell phone and calling Garcia. 

“I need help,” he says once the line clicks.

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

If Aaron lived through this, you were going to kill him yourself. You knew you were being irrational, you knew it wasn’t his fault, and worst of all you know that he hadn’t even done something you could be mad at him for, like going in without backup. This was just the job. This just happened sometimes. And you were absolutely fucking livid that it was happening to him. Not to mention scared shitless. 

Morgan had pumped the gas as soon as Garcia called, but it still wasn’t fast enough. Your leg bounced anxiously in the passenger seat. 

“He’s gonna be fine,” Morgan attempted to placate you, but you wouldn’t have it. 

“You don’t know that,” you spat out. 

“He’s tough. He’s got a lot to stick around for. He’s gonna be okay,” He tells you, and this time you don’t argue.

When you finally pull up to the house, Aaron is on a stretcher being loaded onto an ambulance. You throw yourself out of the SUV before it’s even fully stopped, calling out for Aaron. 

“I’m okay,” he sputters out as you climb into the back of the ambulance. 

“No you aren’t, you asshole,” you scoffed at him, your voice a little watery. “Tell the paramedics what happened so they can help you,” you said, stroking at the hair at the top of his head as your chin quivered. 

“Don’t cry,” he says, reaching up for you and you see that his hands are bloody. 

“Shh, shhh. Don’t worry about me. Let them help you,” you calmed him down, trying not to let your tears interrupt the medics when his eyes roll into the back of his head and he loses consciousness.

 Aaron will live, and you suppose you won’t follow through on your threats to kill him. Once he’s in the hospital, they wheel him back to a restricted area, leaving you alone in a waiting room while the rest of the team finds the unsub. You call Jess, let her know what’s going on, but ask that she keep it from Jack until you’re back in the room with him and Hotch is able to talk to Jack himself. You didn’t want Jack to worry, and you knew that Aaron’s assurance that he was fine was the only comfort Jack would accept.

After a while-- it could have been thirty minutes or three hours, Emily appears in the waiting room..

“I was appointed to come check on you,” she says by way of greeting. “Have you seen him yet?”

“Not since they took him out of the ambulance. He looked… bad,” you struggle to find a word that explains the magnitude of it. 

“He’s gonna be fine. No gunshot wounds, just some nasty bruises. I’m sure it looked worse than it actually was.” She consoles you gently.

“I hope you’re right.”

At that moment, a doctor appears in the doorway. “For Agent Hotchner?” He asks, and you walk over to him. 

“I’m Aaron’s partner,” you explain, the word “girlfriend” feeling entirely too childish for the scenario. 

“Agent Hotchner is going to be just fine. His left leg is fractured slightly at the femur and the kneecap, but we’ve put him in a brace to stabilize the knee, and he should recover over the next eight to twelve weeks. He’ll need some physical therapy, and field work is out of the question until he is cleared, but he’ll make a full recovery.  He has a mild concussion and a few bruised ribs, but we’ve given him some meds for the pain and the concussion shouldn’t present any further complications.” 

No field work. Aaron was going to be pissed. “Thank you, doctor.” You said gratefully. 

“He’s been asking for you, if you’d like to follow me,” The doctor responds, and you allow him to lead you down a maze of hallways, leaving you just outside Aaron’s room, where his eyes are shut and his chest rises and falls slowly. Figures, you were sure he’d been up all night running through profiles in his head.

You sat on his right side, away from his injured leg, and rested your head against his mattress, near his hip bone. He looked so fragile like this, wrapped up in a thin blanket and a johnny, bandaged from his collar bone to his toes. You wondered, briefly, if he felt this helpless and frustrated the night that he picked you up from your old apartment. The tears well up against your will, but you allow them to fall, for a few moments. You had earned the right to care for him, to worry about him, to fret. You had earned the right to sit vigil at his hospital bed and try to force images of a lifetime lived without him to stop passing through your head. 

Aaron stirred, and you sucked in a quick breath, not wanting to wake him. He settled, again, and you rested your head back against the mattress, letting the gentle rhythm of his breath lull you to sleep. 

He twitches a little while later, and the sudden movement jolts you awake. His return to the waking world is slower, and you let him come at it at his own pace, not wanting to overwhelm him when he was probably already going to be in pain and disoriented. You hear him mumble out your name and you stand, placing one hand on his cheek and the other in his uninjured palm. 

“I’m right here, baby,” you whispered to him. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, trying to look you up and down without moving his neck. 

“Am I--” you chided gently. “Honey, I’m fine. Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” 

“My leg,” he tells you, trying to sit up, but you push back on his shoulders. 

“Absolutely not,” you tell him. “You broke your leg. You are staying in this bed until a doctor tells you otherwise.” 

“Fuck,” Aaron muttered out. Suddenly, a thought occurs to him. “Is Spencer okay? And the girl, Victoria Sullivan?” 

“The team took them both alive. Spencer is fine, just a little breathless from his run.” You tell him. 

“When is it gonna heal?” He switches topics back to his injury. 

“You mean, when are you going to be allowed into the field again?” You asked skeptically, and he at least has the good grace to look sheepish. “Not for at least six weeks, more than likely closer to ten, plus physical therapy.” 

“God damnit,” Aaron sighs. 

“It could have been a lot worse, Aaron,” you point out softly, and he looks up at you. 

“You’ve been crying.” He says softly. 

“No, I haven’t.” 

“Don’t lie to a profiler,” He chides you gently.

“Well, I’m the woman who loves you and I’ve earned the right to cry when you’re hurt.” You said defensively, but not unkindly.

“Hey, I’m okay. Really, I swear. Come up here,” he urges you, and you roll your watery eyes. 

“I’ll hurt you,” you tell him. 

“You’ll hurt me worse if you don’t come cuddle,” he pouts. 

“Corny bastard,” you chuckle, tenderly sliding into bed next to him. 

Unable to shift and cuddle, Aaron settles for reaching out for your hand, which you allow him to take in his own. He strokes his thumb over the back of your palm tenderly. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispers, and you might start crying again right there.

“Don’t do it again. I was ready to kill you myself,” you warned him. 

“Noted.” 

“We should call Jack. I didn’t tell him what was going on, I didn’t want to scare him. Jess knows.” 

“I just… want to hold your hand for a couple more minutes.” 

“Okay, love. A few more minutes.”

tagging:  @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads

[helliontherapscallion]

Warmth (Adrenaline Junkie Part 6)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: Self harm scars, mentions of panic attacks and hallucinations

Word count: 2,842

(A/N): This takes place about 6 months after the last chapter. Also, I was heavily inspired by Toothless’ prosthetic, I’m really excited to write more about it : )

You hummed to yourself as you walked down the cobblestone street of the village. The village was probably one of your favorite places to visit; it had quaint little shops and stalls decorating the main plaza that you adored, it was always interesting to see what’s being sold today. Though you always wore your cloak to cover your wings (well, wing and a now-feathered nub) whenever you visited to avoid the stares, you still regularly visited the main plaza for the shops. 

The first time you visited after the incident was about a month ago with Wilbur, you two were looking for something to cook for dinner. You were trying to get used to having your wings out again, so you were wearing the jacket with the slits in the back that you always used to wear. 

The feeling of people staring holes into you was a feeling you forgot about. You always got stares whenever you went into the village because of your wings, but now it felt like more and more people were staring at you as you passed them, probably because of your nub. Though some looked at you in pity, most looked at you with disgust.

You could hear children asking their mothers what happened to you. Their mothers would take one look at you and shield their children away from you staring at you with disgust. You even made one kid cry when he saw your wing; you didn’t blame him, you still couldn’t look at your nub without tearing up. An hour hasn’t even passed before you were asked by a police officer to leave because you were causing a disruption and being indecent in public.

Wilbur was pissed. “They’re fully clothed and they didn’t even talk to anybody, so how exactly were they being disruptive or indecent?”

The officer firmly held her ground, looking up to Wilbur’s tall form. “Sir, the people are complaining and it’s my job to make the public feel safe and comfortable. Look,” she sighed, “I really don’t want to have to ask them to leave, they’re not doing anything to directly threaten people. However, they are causing a disturbance with their,” she wrinkled her nose, “their thing, so I’m going to have to ask them to leave.”

“You have absolutely no right to tell them to leave. They-”

“Wilbur, it’s fine. I’ll leave,” turning back to the officer, you calmly stated “I’m sorry for causing a disturbance ma’am. It won’t happen again.”

She curtly nodded and stood watching you, probably making sure that you left the main plaza. Before you could turn to leave, Wilbur stopped you.

“(Y/n)-”

“No, Wilbur. It’s alright, I can wait outside the village for you.”

He sighed, looking through his leather satchel. “No, you won’t have to wait for me. We’ve got enough food for dinner anyways,” shooting one last heated glare at the police officer, he reached down to grab your hand. “Let’s go.”

He drug you quickly through the village with you having a little trouble keeping up with his long strides. Once you were out of the village, he slowed his pace and walked with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“(Y/n), I’m sor-”

“Don’t be Wil. It isn’t your fault. I honestly was expecting to get kicked out earlier.”

“Still, it’s not fair to you. You didn’t ask for this.” 

“I know Wil, I’ll just wear my cloak next time I visit.”

He didn’t say anything to you after that. The rest of the walk home was shrouded in an awkward silence. 

Another part of the village you loved was the library. It had tall shelves filled to the brim with all sorts of books and various cushioned furniture littered randomly amongst the maze of shelves. Whoever would walk into the library would immediately be hit by the strong scent of parchment and wood as soon as they would walk through the twin doors. You would usually browse books about redstone, but you had a different agenda today.

Today, you were looking for a book about leather working. You wanted to make a leather prosthetic wing so you could at least glide through the air. You weren’t sure if it would work though. From what you’ve read, nobody’s attempted to make a prosthetic wing. It made sense, being a hybrid was rare in and of itself, let alone a winged hybrid. 

You missed flying more than anything. You would give anything to be able to be in the air again. You felt jittery and restless without flight. Sure, Philza took you on some flights with him every now and then, but it wasn’t the same. You yearned for the independence and liberation it gave you to fly alone.

After you found a book and checked it out with the librarian, you hastily set out for home. You were walking with a giddy smile on your face and a bounce in your step. Several people gave you strange looks as you passed them, but you were in too good of a mood to care. You finally figured out a way you could possibly fly again. 

When you got home, you headed straight to your workshop to get to work on your prosthetic. Several blueprints were hung up around your desk, some for your TNT launcher (which you finished a few weeks ago) and others contained ideas for an automatic farm. Your pride and joy was hung up in the center of your bulletin board. It made you extremely happy just by looking at the prosthetic sketch.

Your redstone lamp illuminated the space in front of you as you focused on cutting a large strip of leather in front of you with great concentration. You needed to get the measurements exactly right, equal sized wings are integral for stability midair. The prosthetic was going to be about the same size as your left wing with thin iron rods giving the wing structure. You planned on making it identical to a bat’s wing with a few minor changes in shape to match your other wing. Once it actually was structurally sound and working, you would add proper joints so you could wear it around and decorate it. Until then, you’re making adjustments.

When you were done, you moved on to crafting and melding together the iron rods. Putting on your goggles and thick leather gloves, you used a bit of lava your family kept stored in another room in the basement to fuse the thin iron rods together. You carefully dipped one end of two rods into the bucket before pulling it out at a certain time to hold the molten ends together until they cooled. You repeated this process until you were melding the last piece on.

“HEY BITCH, DINNER’S READY. GET IT WHILE IT’S HOT!”

Yelping, you dropped the mold onto your desk. You picked it up in a panic without paying attention to where your arms went. Unknowingly, your sleeved arm was pressing up against the scorching iron of the bucket of lava.

“FUCK YOU YA FILTHY GREMLIN, A LITTLE WARNING WOULD’VE BEEN NICE!”

He started cackling. “FUCK YOU TOO! NOW GET UP HERE BEFORE I EAT YOUR DINNER.”

“YOU BETTER FUCKING NOT. I SWEAR TO- FUCK!”

You felt the nerves on the side of your forearm screaming as you yanked it away, leaving the crisp remains of a part of your sleeve stuck to the iron bucket. Two pairs of footsteps boomed down the steps and got louder as they rapidly approached you. 

Wilbur’s deep voice worriedly called out to you. “Shit, (y/n) are you alright? Let me see.”

Before you could protest, he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled the sleeve of your jacket down. Adjoining the light burn, small horizontal scars and some fresh cuts lined your forearms. Shit, they were never supposed to find out.

Wilbur’s hand froze, gripping your wrist with an iron grip. You hissed at the feeling of some of your cuts reopening, causing him to quickly retract his hand. He now had his hands hovering over your arm unsure of what to do with them.

“(Y/n), wha-” Tommy cut himself off once he saw the panicked look on his older brother’s face. Following his gaze, his wide eyes met with your cuts.

You sighed, prying the goggles off from your face and pulling the gloves off from your hands. You put on a calm exterior, contrary to what you felt on the inside. They were never supposed to know. “Listen, you guys weren’t supposed to find out about this. None of you were. Please don’t tell Dad or Technoblade, I don’t need more people knowing.”

Tommy spoke up with an incredulous look. “(Y/n), what do you mean? We can’t just not tell them.”

“I know. Please, do it for me? Everything’s finally going back to normal and this will just make everything worse again. I promise I’ll stop, I swear.”

The two brothers looked at each other silently contemplating what they should do. On one hand, you were their sibling and you were hurting yourself. They needed to tell their dad that you were cutting. You only had two lives left and you could kill yourself doing that. Philza and Techno could help. On the other hand, they wanted you to feel normal in your own home. You were right in the fact that everything was starting to feel like it did before the incident. Plus, they would gladly help you through it.

They looked back at you with apprehensive expressions, speaking at the same time. 

“(Y/n), we’re not gonna tell Dad or Techno.”

“We’re telling them.”

Tommy whipped his head up to look at his brother angrily. “Wilbur, we need to tell them.”

“Tommy, no-”

“Are you fucking stupid? Of course we have to-”

“Tommy. We don’t because I’ll be taking every sharp object away from them tonight. We’ll watch them and check their wrists to make sure that there’s no new cuts and they stay clean. We’ll help them.”

“But- they,” Tommy gave a frustrated sigh. “Fine. But we at least have to tell Techno about this. He can help us.”

Wilbur glanced at you with apologetic eyes. Before he could speak up, you interrupted him. “...Alright, as long as Dad doesn’t find out. He has enough to stress out about and he doesn’t need to worry about me again. Now, can we go upstairs for dinner? We’ve been down here for long enough already and Dad’s probably wondering why. Tell him that I’m gonna go clean up.”

Without giving them any room to argue, you speeded up the stairs and into your room. Closing the door and leaning your back on it, you let your calm facade drop into a panicked one. Shit, what if Tommy tells Dad? What were you supposed to do then? He’ll take away what little freedom you had left and you’ll be sinking into the depths of your depression again. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock and Philza’s voice. You held your breath as you prepared yourself for him to tell you that he knows your secret. “Hey hun, Wilbur and Tommy told me that you burned yourself,” you let out a relieved sigh. “Do you need me to look at it?”

Panic once again flared in your bloodstream. “N-no Dad, it’s just a little burn. I’ll be down in just a second I’m changing.”

“You sure? I can get you a potion.”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“...Alright,” he sounded skeptical. “Just hurry up, dinner’s getting cold.”

The sound of his retreating footsteps sounded like music to your ears. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths before you moved to put on a long sleeved shirt. 

Dinner was uncharacteristically quiet without Tommy, you, or Wilbur talking. Philza tried to carry the conversation with you four, but only Technoblade gave full responses. You, Tommy, and Wilbur only supplied a few words to a conversation when prompted. 

Technoblade was suspicious. Sure, you and Wilbur were quiet sometimes, but Tommy? Tommy’s always loud and rambunctious. Something’s wrong, but what? What could’ve happened when Tommy and Wilbur went to go get you for dinner? They weren’t gone for long. He did hear you screaming profanities at Tommy for scaring you and overheard Tommy telling Philza about how you burned yourself, but how is that something that would shut you three up? He was going to confront his siblings after he finished tonight’s dishes. 

Meanwhile, you, Tommy, and Wilbur were in your room. You were giving them your iron dagger.

“Is this all?”

“Yeah, Tommy. That’s all, search my room if you don’t believe me. I wouldn’t mind, I don’t have anything to hide from you anymore.”

They did just that. Looking under your bed, in your drawers, in your closet, and in the chest you kept for your supplies. You watched them propped up on your bed. While you were angry with yourself that you were so careless, you felt warm that they cared about you. They were great brothers.

After they were done turning your room upside down, Wilbur plopped down next to you and Tommy threw himself over your legs. You three laid there for a while just enjoying each other’s presence. It was nice to spend some time with your brothers, you didn’t get much free time to spend with them because you spent most of your time in your workshop.

The silence was broken by Tommy. “...So, how do you wanna go about telling Technoblade?”

“I’m… not exactly sure. Do we even have to tell him?”

Wilbur pursed his lips. “Even if you didn’t want to, I’m pretty sure he knows something’s up. He’s good at picking up on social cues.”

“Well if that’s the case, I might just wait until he comes to me. It’ll be easier.”

Your door swung open to reveal your piglin hybrid brother. He looked at you with a single eyebrow raised as his ear flicked. “What were you planning on telling me?”

Tommy and Wilbur looked at you expectantly. You shifted your body closer to the wall making room on your bed for him. He walked over and stiffly sat on the edge of your mattress. He gestured for you to talk to him. You slowly slid your sleeve down and showed him your arm. Besides his eyebrows slightly crinkling, he was as stoic as ever when he reached out to grab your wrist for a better look.

On the inside, the voices were almost as loud as when you died. They were nearly incoherent as several angry voices mixed together yelling at him for not noticing anything was wrong with you, the kid he vowed to protect when you first stole his crown and replaced it with a homemade paper one. Outside of the voices, he was furious at himself, he was supposed to protect you. He ran his fingers along the raised lines, gently tracing over every scar and scabbed over cut as if memorizing where every single one lays.

His monotone voice was gruff. “How long? Why?”

“About eight months now. I-I didn’t feel anything for a while after I respawned and I realized that pain helped me feel. It helped ground me when I hallucinated or had panic attacks.”

“...Do you feel anything now?”

“Yeah, I’m getting better Tech. I’m hallucinating less and I’m getting better at managing anxiety attacks. At this point, it's just a habit that I can’t drop.” 

“Do you want to drop it?”

You fell silent. You never really considered stopping before. Before, you would do it to give yourself something to focus on when you were overwhelmed, but now you would do it out of habit. It somehow felt wrong when you skipped a session and it usually threw your entire day off. You would feel drained for the entire day if you didn’t do it. It was one of the only consistent things in your life.

“(Y/n), c’mon you don’t want to keep doing this, right?” Tommy asked before Wilbur reached over and slapped him upside his head. 

“I think,” you breathed out, unsure of yourself, “I want to get better.”

Techno looked at his brothers. “Did you two take their blades?”

Tommy held up the iron dagger and wove it around haphazardly in the air. Techno reached over and pocketed the dagger before discarding his golden crown and placing it on your nightstand. He took off his weighted fluffy cloak and neatly draped it over a nearby chest. He maneuvered his body so that he was laying on your other side and wrapped a lazy arm over your chest. 

With Wilbur on your right side with your wing draped over him, Tommy laying on your stomach with Wilbur reaching down to hold him, and Techno pulling you close to his body, you were pleasantly warm. You were slowly drifting off, being lulled to sleep by Techno’s slow heartbeat. You blissfully fell asleep surrounded by your brothers’ love.

Inspo for the cuddle pile (credit goes to og artist, zillychu): https://zillychu.home.blog/tag/heart-squad-cuddle-pile/

Taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@acecarddraws  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @dirtydiavolo  @yeiras-world  @immadatmostthings  @hee-hee-haw  @jackalopedoodles  @m1lkmandan  @vanhakirja  @im-a-depressed-gay  @coolleviauchihadreamerlove  @questioning-sanity  @camisascam

@bongwaterflavoredgatorade  @kakamiissad  @jayistrash  @lifestylesleep  @speedymaximoff  @sun-shark-tooth  @appetiteofapeoplepleaser  @starchildnatalya  @kinismanditory  @dragons-lurk-here  @rinzyx05  @the-wandering-pan-ace  @sparkling-gayyyy  @angelic-scent  @shinipii  @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander  @izzydimensional  @used-avocado

[cacoetheswriting]

hell or high water

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader warnings: angst, possible tfatws spoilers, swearing, dealing with emotions / comforting, mutual pining, a lil fluff, & mentions of john walker [yes, i’m adding that as a warning] word count: 1.5k summary: unexpected, and rather devastating news, bring you and bucky together.

-

The calm before the storm - a period of unusual tranquillity and stability that often foreshadowed grave and difficult times.

The calm before the storm. That’s how you would describe what was happening during this moment, as you propped yourself up on the chair, silently observing Bucky for any sort of reaction to the breaking headline currently being shared on every single news channel.

John Walker. The new Captain America.

Bucky’s face was blank, although by now you’ve gotten to know him well enough to understand what the expression, or lack thereof, meant. He was irritated - no - he was fucking pissed. And truthfully, he had every right to be.

“I liked that what I was doing would make people feel safe. Steve Rogers was the kind of guy who could do that, he gave me hope. Even though I never met him, he feels like a brother.” John Walker’s voice sounded through the shitty speakers.

Bucky’s heart sank at the words. He smacked his lips together and exhaled.

“Hey, uhm… are you okay?” You asked in a hushed tone, eyes glued to the side of his face, nervously chewing down on your bottom lip. It was a really stupid question since you already knew the answer. Of course he wasn’t okay. Far from it, actually. In your eyes however, it was always better to check anyway. 

Especially since the man sitting on the cool ground only an arms length away from you wasn’t one to open up freely.

Bucky grunted in response, followed by a deep sigh.

“Just… peachy.” He huffed, before switching the tv off and sliding a hand down his face, wiping away any lone tears that may have escaped.

His response caused your heart to clench inside of your chest. You wanted to ease any pain the unexpected news caused him, but you weren’t exactly sure how. You felt extremely helpless, and from where you sat you could tell he was feeling the exact same - however, for different reasons.

His powerlessness was primarily fueled by anger.

And Bucky was aware the dangerous emotions circulating through his veins was undoubtedly stemming from heartbreak. Sorrow for everything he lost. Grief for the only family he had left.

Prior to meeting you, Steve was the only person that accepted him for who he was. Cherished him despite the many flaws and mistakes he’s made over the years. The only person in this whole damn universe who could easily separate him from his dark and troubled past. The only person who didn’t just see him as The Winter Soldier, a ruthless killing machine.

No.

Prior to meeting you, Steve was the only person who truly and earnestly believed Bucky was a good person.

And now Bucky had to witness Captain America being formally replaced. As if Steve Rogers was nothing. As if he meant nothing.

Which is why, as the dark-haired man stared at his own hollow reflection in the blank television screen, he was glad you entered his life when you did.

His gaze trailed to the outline of your silhouette and a small smile circled his lips. Knowing that you were here for him. Knowing that it was no longer only Steve who wholeheartedly believed he was genuine and kind… He felt better.

You could see him looking at you through the black display. You could see the miniscule smile present on his features, and you couldn’t help but return the expression.

Soon enough you were up on your feet, gracefully moving from the rather uncomfortable chair to the even more uncomfortable floor next to Bucky. You placed your head on his shoulder and his whole body instantly relaxed at your proximity, at your gentle and soothing touch. His eyes locked with yours through the monitor and you could clearly make out the gratitude, the adoration.

Yes. For a brief moment, a split second, Bucky felt better.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, bringing your knees closer to your chest and wrapping one arm tightly around to hold them in place. “I’m sorry this is happening. I know it’s not what you wanted, and… I know it’s now what Steve wanted.”

“Don’t apologise.” Bucky was quick to contravene.

You just shrugged, your head still resting against him. “Well, the people that made this decision, the people that should apologise most definitely won’t, and it seems like something you need to hear. A simple apology.”

He huffed lightly, once again feeling grateful he had someone like you to ground him. God, if you weren’t here… No. No. He stopped himself and shook the disturbing thoughts away. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because you were here, and you weren’t going anywhere.

He swallowed.

But he was. He had no other choice.

“I- uh… I need to go, y/n. I need to find Sam. I need to talk to him and get some answers.”

“I know.” You stated simply, however there was a detectable hint of sadness in the tone of your voice. Bucky picked up on it immediately and he shifted in his position, so that he was now looking down at you.

His gaze burned into the side of your skull, lip quivering as he searched his mind for what to say next because he hated this. Hated it came to this. And you hated it too.

You began to feel guilty. If you weren’t in his life, he wouldn’t have this problem. He wouldn’t have you to worry about. He wouldn’t need to explain himself. There would be nothing holding him back.

Fuck, you thought, life was just starting to get easier.

Swallowing the growing lump at the back of your throat, you mustered up enough courage to face him. The amiable look in his eyes caused the butterflies in your stomach to flutter momentarily.

“But you’ll come back.” It wasn’t a request. It was a fact. Corners of your lips twirled into a timid smile, yet all Bucky could focus on were the tears you were trying really hard to fight back.

Slowly, he nodded his head. How could he not come back? All you did these last few months was make him a little bit happier. He could only dream to one day return the favour, because as smart as Bucky Barnes was, he had no idea he already made you the happiest you’d ever been.

“I’ll come back.” He reassured.

“Alive.”

He chuckled softly before repeating, “Alive.”

Lifting your hand, you tenderly brushed your fingers down his cheek and across his jawline. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he leaned into your touch. It shouldn’t have, but it did. Because as you held his face in the palm of your hand while he studied every inch of yours, the uncertainty of when you would see each other again gradually settling in, you realised you’ve never been this close to one another.

You thought perhaps you should pull back, that this was a little too close for comfort, but you found yourself unable to move. Frozen. Completely captivated by the handsome man situated in front of you.

It should have felt weird, the intimacy of the moment. It should have felt weird. Why, why didn’t it feel weird? Bucky was your neighbour. He was your friend. There was nothing else to your relationship. Nothing… more.

But as you stared deeply into his eyes, taking note of the warm expression he was presenting as he continued to scan your face, the air hitched in your throat. 

It felt natural.

Bucky sensed it too. He sensed the change in the atmosphere around the two of you. Unfamiliar, yet not unwelcoming. Quite the opposite actually. It drew him in. He found himself slowly leaning in, and like a magnet, you followed suit.

When his mouth eventually slanted over yours, your heart skipped a beat.

The kiss was gentle at first, as if Bucky was indicating you could stop him at any given time, if you wanted too. It wouldn’t take much to push him away and end this now. But you didn’t want to stop him. Instead, you closed your eyes at the desirable sensation igniting every single cell in your body.

Any boundary the two of you had previously unspokenly set was crossed, broken. However, it didn’t seem to matter to either of you.

The hand previously cupping Bucky’s cheek, was now gripping at his hair. Both of his hands were now holding your waist - not applying too much pressure, but making it known that they were there.

You wanted to comment how he very rarely touched you with his metal arm, always weary that he may somehow hurt you, and now he was latched onto you in a way that suggested he would never let you go, but his tongue wound its way between your parted lips, breaking you away from your thoughts.

After what felt like a blissful eternity, you pulled away simultaneously. Equally flushed and equally breathless. Smiling at one another like a couple of love-struck idiots.

“Hmm.. We can continue this when you’re back.” You whispered against his puffed lips, before pecking them softly.

Bucky smirked. He lifted his right arm and gently brushed loose strands of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t you worry, y/n.” He began, “Come hell or high water, I’ll definitely be back.”

-

masterlist

[tillidontneedfantasy]

A Track-by-Track Breakdown of Taylor Swift’s 9th Studio Album: ‘evermore’

“My collaborators and I are proud to announce that my 9th studio album and folklore’s sister record is here. It’s called evermore,” is how Taylor Swift introduces us to this album in its foreword. One might assume a “sister record” would entail b-sides, or tracks that didn’t quite make the cut for folklore, despite Taylor’s explanation that “we just couldn’t stop writing songs.” evermore’s release came at a strange time, upon the heels of the Folklore: Long Pond Studio Sessions film on Disney+, as well as 5 Grammy nominations for folklore. The world still captivated by folklore, it’s understandable why one might not consume evermore as critically. Even as a die-hard fan, I felt some whiplash by this announcement; I am still processing folklore! Hell, I’m still processing reputation!

If this was the Taylor from two years ago, this may have been a big enough fear of hers to hold off on releasing evermore. But as she explained upon folklore’s surprise release, life is too unpredictable now, and there are zero givens or guarantees. So she followed the same path this time (although making sure it fell in line with her birthday weekend). But it’s not just the strategic timing of the release that she’s thrown out the window for now, but also her mindset whilst making records. As she explains in the evermore album foreword,

“I’ve never done this before. In the past I’ve always treated albums as one-off eras and moved onto planning the next one as soon as an album was released. There was something different with folklore. In making it, I felt less like I was departing and more like I was returning. I loved the escapism I found in these imaginary/not imaginary tales. I loved the ways you welcomed the dreamscapes and tragedies and epic tales of love lost and found. So I just kept writing them.”

This is a revelation for Swift, to let the music lead her into artistic freedom, which is what makes evermore such a triumphant return. Truly folklore’s sister record, Taylor wrote evermore with the same creative team: Aaron Dessner of The National (Swift’s favorite band), long-time pal and collaborator Jack Antonoff, Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, and William Bowery aka Swift’s boyfriend, Joe Alwyn (as officially revealed in the Long Pond Studio Sessions). Additionally, former 1989 tour openers and close friends of Taylor, the HAIM sisters, join the crew, along with Marcus Mumford for some dreamy backup vocals.

The production is just as wistful and mesmerizing as it was on folklore, yet the storytelling on evermore is kicked up a notch, expanding on the topics and worldbuilding established in its sister record, with even sharper lyrics and an effective and elaborate use of alliteration. The best thing about Taylor is that no matter what she does, her masterful lyricism is always at the heart of her art, and somehow, she keeps getting better. Once again, I wanted to explore the rich stories she’s crafted in this woodsy universe. This is how I’ve interpreted the album, but I hope you find your own meaning in the songs as well.

1. willow It is fitting that the opening track to folklore’s sister album, where we wade further into the forest that is Taylor Swift’s imagination and storytelling, would center on the type of tree that is a symbol of hope, belonging, safety, stability, and healing. “willow,” one of the few more obviously autobiographical tracks on the album, is a hymn of gratitude for her man (as she wants you to know, yes, thirteen times), Joe Alwyn, and how the invisible string tethering them together pulled her to him in a time when everyone else was counting her out. Though not as present on many of the other songs later to come on this record, you can feel the lightness in her heart on this song as she embraces the way in which the willow has bent, wrecking her plans, throwing her into the water and leaving her happily lost and afloat in his current. The downward key modulation throughout the last two repetitions of the chorus is beautiful and very fitting for Swift vocally, but also sounds like the feeling of finding your comfort and settling into it, basking it in while you wait for the next place the wind pulls you. Best lyric: “Now this is an open/shut case / I guess I should’ve known from the look on your face / Every bait and switch was a work of art.”

2. champagne problems On the second track of the album, Taylor dives back into the fictional worldbuilding she began to explore on folklore. While on folklore high school relationships and dramatics took center-stage, evermore graduates from adolescence to young adulthood, not that it is any easier emotionally on the listener’s heart. “champagne problems” chronicles a rejected marriage proposal between two college sweethearts at their old dorm building. Taylor sings as the narrator, a reflective, self-deprecating young woman who jokes about belonging in a madhouse and dismisses all her turmoil as champagne problems. The term ‘champagne problems’ itself could have various meanings here: their trivial concerns, the fact that their “sister splashed out on the bottle” of champagne that they will not be using to celebrate as they had hoped, or perhaps it could even hint that excessive drinking is a piece of all the ways the narrator is “fucked in the head,” as they said. Although the person she is singing to is the one who got hurt in the story, the hurt in the narrator’s heart is just as palpable and relatable, because you only have yourself to blame when you self-destruct. Best lyric: “’She would’ve made such a lovely bride, / what a shame she’s fucked in the head,’ they said / but you’ll find the real thing instead / she’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred.”

3. gold rush On her YouTube live chat prior to the album’s release, Taylor explained that this song “takes place inside a single daydream where you get lost in thought for a minute and then snap out of it.” The daydream consists of a love story so pure that the town had never seen such a thing; it could only happen in a fantasy for the narrator. How could she possibly have the gall to call them out on their contrarian shit, or end up with her Eagles t-shirt hanging from their door, when they are so coveted by all, and when she cannot withstand the thought of even competing? She sings, “My mind turns your life into folklore / I can’t dare to dream about you anymore,” a sweet little connecting piece to this album’s older sister, effectively convincing herself out of the idea of jumping into the chaos of the gold rush because even inside her own imagination it’s too dangerous. Best lyric: “I don’t like that falling feels like flying ‘till the bone crush.”

4. ‘tis the damn season According to Aaron Dessner, Taylor had written the lyrics for “’tis the damn season” in the middle of the night amidst their Folklore: The Long Pond Studio Sessions recording after a long night of chatting and drinking with their co-conspirator, Jack Antonoff. The lyrics perfectly encapsulate the guttural ache the track evokes. It is a tale of two people who always find their way back to one another in their hometown, which acts as the ever-returning fork in the road. The path taken, back to L.A. in pursuit of her dreams, is the one she chose and continues to choose, but whenever she returns home, she takes a ride down the road not taken, just to get a taste of what could have been, even if just for the weekend. What starts off as an icy homecoming always transforms into the warmest intimacy. The success of this track is aligned with the success of Taylor’s entire career; even with such specific details, it feels so deeply personal to the listener. You know the street you’d drive along late at night laughing, the spot you’d park the car, the person who stars in every what-if. You will never really know if the road not taken is as good as it seems, but that might be ok; sometimes, the fantasy is better than the reality, anyway. Best lyric: “It’s the kind of cold / fogs up windshield glass, but I felt it when I passed you / There’s an ache in you / put there by the ache in me.”

5. tolerate it Inspired by the novel Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, “tolerate it” is an agonizing track from the perspective of a devoted wife who polishes plates and paints portraits and waits by the door for her husband with a battle hero’s welcome, who at best tolerates all her adoration. There are few things as painful as idolization being met with indifference, when you have all this love to give to someone who just leaves it there untouched. “tolerate it” captures that desperation for the approval you know will never arrive, but you sit and watch, waiting for it just in case you’re wrong, but you know you’re not. Best lyric: “I made you my temple, my mural, my sky / now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life / drawing hearts in the byline”

6. no body, no crime feat. HAIM “no body, no crime,” the one evermore song solo-written by Taylor, has the clearest plot from beginning to end. In the same vein as the female powerhouse country classic “Goodbye Earl” by The Chicks, Taylor is out for blood to avenge her friend, Este (named for one of the HAIM sisters). The story goes as such: Este’s husband kills her for calling him out on his infidelity, and then Taylor kills the husband and frames his mistress. The HAIM girls, who are long-time friends of Taylor’s and former touring mates, lend their vocals to reinforce the accusation on the husband and to provide Taylor’s alibi. “no body, no crime” is so far the closest we’ve gotten to a return to “country Taylor,” proving that she is still the master of a killer country tune (yes, pun intended, it had to be done I’m sorry). Best lyric: “Good thing Este’s sister’s gonna swear she was with me / (she was with me, dude) / Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy”

7. happiness Written a week before the album’s release, “happiness” is one of Swift’s strongest and most reflective breakup songs. Although she writes it as though it is recent, there’s a lot of power in knowing that she’s been happily in love for four years, and that she is even better now at doing the thing that has always been best at. She is finally “above the trees,” as she sings, and is able to see it all for what it is, but her character is still in the heat of it all, trying to navigate the stages of grief when a relationship ends. We see the narrator grapple with many of those stages throughout the song. Most striking is the anger displayed in the second verse when she sings: “I hope she’ll be a beautiful fool who takes my spot next to you / No, I didn’t mean that, / sorry, I can’t see facts through all of my fury.” That section is jarring and feels like one of the most honest moments in a Taylor song, the insanely difficult emotional balancing act when we are grieving a relationship. The devastation of loss can distort our perception, and a part of that is the difficulty of understanding how multiple seemingly opposing things can co-exist in our hearts, such as happiness because of someone and happiness after them. But when you leave it all behind and finally find your place above the trees, you can find happiness after someone and also look back and appreciate the happiness they once provided. Both of these things can be true. Best lyric: “Showed you all of my hiding spots / I was dancing when the music stopped.”

8. dorothea Taylor Swift has the uncanny ability to create such developed and well-rounded characters with such little information, which is what makes her storytelling so compelling. In “dorothea,” we learn much about the title character through the narrator’s eyes, and the relationship they once had. The lyric “skipping the prom just to piss off your mom and her pageant schemes” alone tells an entire story in itself. “dorothea” is also the companion song to “’tis the damn season,” just from the other person’s perspective, which helps shine even more light on the story. The narrator of “dorothea” reveres her but wonders if she’s still the same soul in L.A. as she was back in their never-changing town. Whatever the answer, they’re still willing to support her no matter where she is, but she’s always welcome back in Tupelo by her hometown love’s side if she ever just wants to be herself rather than someone known for who they know. Besides, they’re the only soul who can tell which smiles she’s faking. And you can always return to the road not taken. Best lyric: “They all wanna be ya / but are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers? / Well, I guess I’ll never know / and you’ll go on with the show.”

9. coney island feat. The National What really started the folklore / evermore journey was Taylor’s love for The National. Taylor has cited them as one of her favorite bands for many years, and as we know, this led to her beautiful new collaborative relationship with Aaron Dessner. So it would make sense for the track written with the intention of this duet to be so well executed; you can feel the love and care Taylor put into writing this song. In her press for these sister albums, she has spoken about trying to channel frontman Matt Berninger’s writing style. But what actually happened was she just produced her own signature lyricism at its sharpest. “We were like the mall before the internet, it was the one place to be / the mischief, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams / sorry for not winning you an arcade ring over and over,” is a hall of famer Swift-ian lyric. “coney island” explores the confusion, hurt, and self-reflection when a passionate affair burns out fast because you did not prioritize that person. And to top it off, Swift and Berninger’s harmonies are achingly beautiful, transporting you right there in the story, on the bench, wondering, over and over. Best lyric: “Do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? / Will you forgive my soul when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?”

10. ivy Leave it to Taylor Swift to make a song about an affair sound so romantic, and so sympathetic to the narrator, that you’re rooting for adultery. “ivy” tells the tale of a woman in a lifeless marriage, likening her home with him to the tombstone that the widow in town visits each day. I like to think this is the same wife whose husband was out there building other worlds without her in “tolerate it,” because then that means she found someone who celebrates her love, who holds her pain for her, who blooms all over her; they started it, but she’s fighting for it all the way to the end, nonetheless. “ivy” showcases Swift’s gorgeous vocals and her sharp lyrics, with a melody so infectious it is bound to permanently plant its roots in your dreamland. Best lyric: “Oh, I can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland / my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I’m covered in you.”

11. cowboy like me With the beautifully blended backing vocals of Marcus Mumford, “cowboy like me” is an entrancing love story of two con artists who lost at their own game and got conned into forever with each other. She’d gone from swindling old men for their money and fancy cars to falling victim to the danger of dancing with someone who only has eyes full of stars, and she knows she’ll pay for it. “cowboy like me” is one of the most romantic tracks on the record, proving that life never plays out quite as we plan. Best lyric: “Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon / with your boots beneath my bed / Forever is the sweetest con.”

12. long story short One of the more pop-sounding tracks on evermore, “long story short” is pretty much a summary of the long story behind reputation (2017). The song is filled with various metaphors for her reputation crumbling around her, and then finally putting her defenses down to be with her lover, someone as “rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky.” It is a sweet ode to her boyfriend, and a gentle comfort to her past self that it will all work out. But it is also an oddly relatable example of how we shrug off our struggles and minimize them to just a “bad time,” when the time she is singing about was obviously something that deeply affected her (as will be further explored in the title track); but sometimes it actually feels good to just shrug it off as just a blip in your life, because at the end of the day, you survived, and that’s what counts- even if you’re not keeping score anymore. Best lyric: “Pushed from the precipice / clung to the nearest lips / long story short, it was the wrong guy. / Now I’m all about you.”

13. marjorie Whereas track 13 on folklore was a tribute to Swift’s paternal grandfather, evermore’s track 13 is a tribute to her maternal grandmother, Marjorie Finlay, who was an opera singer in the 50s, and passed away in 2003 when Taylor was 13 years old. “marjorie” is quite possibly the most touching track Taylor has ever written thus far in her career. Grief is one of the most difficult topics to tackle in a song; the genius of “marjorie” is that it is simple, yet not understated. Swift reflects on the profound lessons she learned from her grandmother, about the difficult balances of kindness and cleverness, and politeness and power. She curses herself for not cherishing the moments she had with her, for complaining rather than understanding in the moment how admirable her spirit was, for all the amber skies she’d love but will never see. The chorus, blunt and hard-hitting, reminds us that someone does not have to be living to be alive, to be all around, to be with us. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were singing to me now,” Taylor sings towards the end of the song, right before you hear a sample of Finlay’s opera singing in the background, a truly eye-swelling moment. It is clear that Finlay played a pivotal role in Swift’s own ambitions, as she sings, “all your closets of backlogged dreams, and how you left them all to me.” Marjorie knew she was leaving them in good hands. If you haven’t yet, check out the moving lyric video for the song, where you can see photos and video clips of Marjorie, both throughout her career and in her time with Taylor. Best lyric: “Never be so polite you forget your power, / never wield such power you forget to be polite.”

14. closure On the most experimental track musically on the record, Taylor writes off her need for closure from a relationship of some sort, whether it be romantic or platonic or business, all of which can cause hurt of equal intensity. The subject of the song is trying to make nice with Taylor, and she is just not having it, as it is not coming from a genuine place, but rather to ensure that their life remains picture perfect, or to clear their guilty conscience, or to preserve their own ego. This is a deeply relatable sentiment; as valuable as forgiveness can be, sometimes the person who hurt you just doesn’t deserve it, and all you can do is forgive yourself for blocking their number or shredding their letters. Best lyric: “I know I’m just a wrinkle in your new life / staying friends would iron it out so nice.”

15. evermore feat. Bon Iver To close out the standard edition of the album, Taylor joins forces once again with Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, with whom she collaborated on the Grammy-nominated duet, “exile” for folklore. However, Swift leads most of the track this time, lamenting the difficult time she went through in 2016. The piano and Swift’s vocals are haunting, particularly when she describes this time in her life as “catching my death,” consumed by a pain that she feels will never end. If you’ve ever been depressed, you know what that feels like, and the dark places it leads you. Although she is singing about a time four years prior, it sounds so present, and it is heartbreaking to hear her in such a state. When Bon Iver comes in, the tempo of the song picks up, the piano riff becomes more erratic, like a winter storm hitting you in the face, and he voices all the anxieties of the cost of such a downfall. But through those anxieties, Taylor finds not a cure, but an anchor in love, and then the tempo slows back down. By the end of the song, Taylor has the foresight to understand that although it may not feel like it now, the pain she is experiencing is not permanent (a sentiment my therapist has been trying to instill in me for years). In her Apple Music interview with Zane Lowe, Taylor explained how the lyrics parallel the times we are in currently, and so it feels really special to have the album end with someone who knows how it feels to be imprisoned by your pain gently comfort us with the wisdom that “this pain wouldn’t be for evermore.” I hope one day soon, as we leave 2020 far behind, we can all truly believe her. Best lyric: “I was catching my breath / barefoot in the wildest winter catching my death.”

16. right where you left me (bonus track) The first bonus track on evermore, “right where you left me,” captures a moment so earth-crushing, a piece of you is trapped in it forever. In this song specifically, the narrator finds herself stuck in the same corner of a restaurant where she was told by someone she loved that they had met someone else. “Glass shattered on the white cloth, everybody moved on,” she sings in mourning. We have all experienced those moments that we could teleport back to if we just closed our eyes; the scenery, what you wore, the smell and taste of the season, the very point in your body where it felt like your insides were collapsing. Or that one particular person, who is long-gone from your life but seeing them is like time-travelling back to that person you once were, ready to pick up where you left off. But as much as you want to stay in that moment forever, just in case it changes in your favor, the cold reality is that the world stops for no one. Best lyric: “If our love died young, I can’t bear witness / And it’s been so long, but if you ever think you got it wrong / I’m right where you left me.”

17. it’s time to go (bonus track) “right where you left me” was Taylor’s cry for help to get out of restaurant, and “it’s time to go” is the answer to the call, as she sings in the first line, “when the dinner gets cold, and the chatter gets old / you ask for the tab.” This song is about gathering the strength to leave situations and relationships behind that no longer serve you. She grieves the betrayal of someone she thought to be a twin from her dreams (almost definitely referring to former friend, Karlie Kloss), acknowledges that keeping a marriage together for the sake of the kids often actually has the opposite intended effect (possibly- but not certainly- something she and her brother experienced), and recounts attempting to bargain with someone consumed by greed, only able to leave with herself (absolutely referring to the end of her fifteen-year long business relationship with Scott Borchetta, her former record-label owner). But as painful as leaving all of those situations was, Taylor has gained the wisdom to understand that walking away sometimes takes as much strength as persevering. You can’t stay at the restaurant, or at the mercy of someone else forever; you have to forge your own path, even if it’s in the opposite direction of what you envisioned for so long. And even with all her past success behind her, as folklore and evermore have proved, there is so much more ahead of her. Best lyric: “That old familiar body ache, the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul / You know when it’s time to go.”

In a time where we are all trapped in our homes and in our heads, the folklore/evermore experience has been the sweetest escape. If anything, the creation of these wonderful sister records has taught me that our most powerful tool in times of distress is our own imagination. Even just the ability to close my eyes while listening to one of these tracks and feel the character’s story is a gift. The way I’ve always been able to pick up Harry Potter and escape to Hogwarts when I’ve felt alone and friendless, I can listen to folklore and evermore when I feel scared or hopeless and escape into this enchanted forest Taylor has built, where I can climb above the trees and see it all for what it is. I feel so lucky to watch Taylor’s imaginative world unravel around me. I can’t wait to see what she creates next.

DISCLAIMER – REVIEWER’S BIAS: I would literally die for this bitch.  

[silversatoru]

Hello! I wanted to request for a chubby reader x Levi oneshot. I feel like there aren’t many stories that have chubby readers ): As for the storyline, I’m not sure if it falls in the angst or hurt/comfort category. It would be the reader feeling insecure about themselves because they have a harder time training than the others (them blaming it on their own weight) and seeing how everyone is much thinner than them, they start avoiding food. To not make it look suspicious, they’d go into the kitchen alone and put the food away along with the left overs. The reader would act normal with Levi and he doesn’t suspect anything at first. Later on, the reader would push themselves harder to the point where they’d train on their own whenever they had to chance so they can lose weight and improve their training. At this point, Levi starts noticing the reader looking paler than usual and the slight difference in their weight. One day during training, the reader ends up fainting from exhaustion and dehydration. They wake up on Levis’s bed with him looking over them. He asks what happened and the reader lies by saying they didn’t drink enough water. Levi calls it bs and ask if they think he’s stupid and goes on to tell them about how they noticed the reader sneaking off into the kitchen with a plate and coming out without it. He didn’t think anything of it at first, but he started putting the pieces together. They end up telling Levi the truth, the way they feel towards themself and how they don’t like the fact that they’re bigger than Levi. He comforts the reader and lets them know that they’re an idiot for thinking that way, etc. Thank you! I’m so sorry if it sounds so cheesy!

hello dear!! i dont think your idea was cheesy at all, i love it actually. these kind of issues live very close to my heart, so writing about them is always really fun for me. that being said,, this fic definitely got very dark and very real, and i would advise everyone to read the warnings before deciding to read this <33

empty

levi ackerman x gn!reader

synopsis: levi catches you skipping meals and does what he can to help

tags/warnings: eating disorder, skipping meals, hurt/comfort, but it does have a happy ending! 

word count: 2.2k 

Throbbing headaches and hollow, gnawing pains in your stomach — they’ve quickly become your new normal. You see everything through a hazy fog these days, nothing feels real and everything hurts but it’s worth it — that’s what you keep saying to yourself. You’re tired of lacking the same agility, momentum, and grace that your thinner counterparts have. 

Your weight was always something that ate away at the back of your head, but joining the scout regiment multiplied it tenfold. You were constantly working twice as hard as your fellow scouts, and it seemed like it was never enough. Everyone around you was not only ridiculously athletic, but so fucking thin. You didn’t hate your comrades for their bodies and the way they were born, but you made up for it by inflicting all of the hate onto yourself.

You wonder if anyone notices your zombie eyes or the abnormal paleness to your face — god, you hope they don’t. The last thing you want to do is have to confront your feelings and admit what you’ve been doing lately. Every night you shamefully sneak back into the kitchen and pour your plate of food into the large pot of leftovers. You pick at food here and there when your friends are watching, but behind closed doors you haven’t eaten much of anything lately. Your body is running on empty, and it’s only a matter of time before it fully catches up to you. 

You hear your last name echo from across the training fields, slowly turning around to see an angry captain sulking towards you. His face was twisted into an unpleasant grimace, his eyebrows knitted together into what almost looked like concern. 

“I’m excusing you from the remainder of training, leave,” his words were flat, but there was a subtle emotional edge. 

“Sorry, what?” you gave him a confused look — Captain Levi never excused anyone from training, not unless they were practically on their deathbed. 

“Go home, and eat a big dinner tonight, your energy has been less than adequate lately,” his face softened slightly, “I expect you to be back to normal by tomorrow. Your skills and abilities are needed here, so go get some rest and be better tomorrow, yeah?”

“But, I-,” you stammered, trying to come up with some kind of valid excuse. 

“That’s an order, cadet”. 

His words surprised you, and before you could even rack your brain for an appropriate way to respond, he was turned on his heels and walking away. You swallowed thickly, your throat dry and stuffed full with anxiety. 

Reluctantly, you followed his orders and made your way back to the Scout’s base early. You grabbed a stack of fresh clothing from your room before heading to the showers and scrubbing yourself free of all the sweat and grime from training. You were careful to avoid mirrors when you navigated bathrooms, and tonight was no exception, your eyes glued to the tiled floor. After showering, you hesitantly walked to the kitchen, preparing a plate of food and bringing it back to your room.

That food stared you in the eyes for hours, taunting you and teasing you and making intense nausea creep up your spine.  Tears were stinging the backs of your eyes and your lungs were shaking with heavy, anxiety-filled breaths. You couldn't do it, and you were overwhelmed with shame and guilt. If you couldn’t do it for Levi, you were hopeless that you’d be able to do it for anyone, never mind for yourself. 

After making countless pitiful attempts to take a bite of your untouched meal, you decided it was going back into the leftover pot — just like everything else. The other scouts should have returned and been sleeping by now anyway, you’d just silently creep down the hallway, dump the food, and creep back, no harm no foul. 

Except for that a certain short, dark-haired captain was standing at the end of the hallway — you didn't notice him, but he certainly noticed you. A boiling anger rippled up inside him as he felt an overwhelming disappointment in your actions. He’d been suspecting this kind of behavior for a while now, but watching you tip-toe down the hall and into the kitchen with an uneaten plate of food confirmed all of his suspicions. 

You could barely crawl out of bed the next morning, your ribs aching and your head pounding with a dull pain. You grasped at your tall dresser, catching your balance as you dangerously swayed back and forth for a few seconds. After regaining consciousness and stability you carefully changed into your uniform, having to stop and take breaks every few seconds because you were running out of breath. Your body felt utterly devoid of any kind of energy, and you wondered — when was the last time I actually ate something? 

It was far enough back that you couldn’t quite remember, maybe a few days at this point, you really weren’t sure anymore. You’d have to suck it up for training though, because the last thing you wanted was to be confronted by the captain again. 

You chugged back a full glass of water before lacing up your boots and throwing on a convincing facade. People don’t seem to notice something is wrong as long as you're smiling, laughing, and going along with what they say — it’s easy enough to fly under the radar of your fellow scouts. 

Levi’s radar is a little sharper though, and he keeps a close eye on you from the second you walk up to the training grounds. He’s disappointed in your hand to hand combat — it’s sloppy, slow, predictable. Your hands look shaky too, and maybe it's the light playing tricks on him but it looks like the color is draining from your face. 

Things are feeling deplorable on your side — you can barely stand anymore, never mind throw punches or avoid the oncoming attacks. Your vision was starting to tunnel, foggy black surrounding your periphery as you began to lose feeling in your fingertips. You tried desperately to cling onto whatever semblance of consciousness you had left, but failed miserably, your body collapsing to the hard earth beneath you. 

The soft glow of warm candles illuminated the walls around you when you finally woke up from the earlier incident. This wasn’t your room, where the hell were you? You uncomfortably shifted to the side and flinched when you saw your captain sitting in a chair in front of you. His arms were crossed and one of his legs was propped on top of the other, an icey look in his eyes.

“What happened today?” His words were very short and his tone was flooded with irritation — he didn’t even give you a chance to take in your surroundings.

“Ah- I didn’t sleep well last night,” you lied, “And maybe I haven’t been drinking enough water or something”. 

“I’m offended that you think I would fall for such a pitiful lie,” He clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, “I saw you sneak into the kitchen last night, how long have you been doing that?” 

Your eyes grew wide with anxiety, your heart abruptly dropping to the floor — you made sure to go extra late last night, why the hell was he still up?

You stayed quiet for a moment, pondering over how honest you should be with Levi right now. The two of you had always been a little closer than he was with the other scouts, but unfortunately there was no room for things like love in this world. You also assumed that maybe he never reciprocated your feelings because of your weight — but that was just more toxic fuel to the fire blossoming in your head. 

“Pretty long,” you sighed, ultimately deciding to be fully honest with him, because knowing Levi, he’d continue to see right through your lies anyway. 

“I figured,” He grumbled, uncrossing his legs and leaning back into his chair, “Why?” 

“Everyone around me is thin, I stick out. And, I’m not as agile or flexible as the other scouts either. I just thought that maybe...,” you bit down hard on your bottom lip, rolling onto your back so you wouldn’t have to look at him, “I thought my weight bothered you too, and also that I’d be more useful to the scouts if I was skinnier”. 

“You think I’d like you better if you were dead?” Levi was leaning closer now, heat boiling in his eyes, “Because that’s where you’re headed right now. If you truly think you’ll be more helpful to the scouts when you’re six feet under, you’re delusional. And who the hell gave you the idea that your weight bothered me?”

His harsh words were cold slap in the face, your eyes burning and threatening to spill over with tears. You didn’t want to die, not really, you just didn’t want to hate yourself anymore. 

“No one! I don’t know, I just thought, maybe because I was bigger than you-,” You continued to stammer over your words, tears beginning to leak down your cheeks. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he waved you off, not wanting to push the issue further, “You’re wrong, and I’m hurt that you’d even think that. I’ve never once thought that you were anything other than the way you should be”.

“I’m sorry,” your voice was weak and shaky, but your heart was pounding against your chest at his words. 

“I’m not the person you should be apologizing to, that’s something you owe to yourself” he shook his head and stood up to retrieve two small bowls of food from a nearby table, “I brought you something to eat”.

You watched him intently, pondering over his words about apologizing to yourself.

“It’s only a bowl of soup, so you can start small, yeah?” He offered one of the bowls to you, which you hesitantly took into your hands as you sat up. 

He sat down again across from you again, leaning back and taking a sip of broth from his bowl. You were grateful that he was here, that he was eating with you — it made things a little easier. You grasped the spoon in your hands and scooped up some brothy vegetables before lifting them into your mouth. 

“Good, finish the bowl,” nodded at you, giving you a reassuring look and lifting his own bowl to his lips again. 

The two of you ate in silence until you were finished, and then he sat the bowls back on his nightstand before finding a seat next to you on his bed. 

“Stay here tonight,” he stared at you with his signature tired eyes, but there were hints of concern laced through them now, “We’ll have breakfast together in the morning”. 

“Okay,” you gave him a weak nod, trying desperately to bottle up your growing emotions, but they were becoming too much to bear. 

Small sobs began to rack through your body, your chest tightening and your stomach lurching with anxiety. You were experiencing so many feelings tonight — eating for the first time in days and being here with Levi, it was overwhelming to say the least. 

You could barely see the captain through your blurry vision, but you could feel his arms maneuver themselves around you and pull you against his chest. You stayed like that for a while, Levi’s arms delicately holding you in place while quiet sobs worked their way out of your lips. 

“You’ve dug yourself into a deep hole, I won’t lie to you,” you heard him let out a tired sigh, “And it’s gonna take time and effort for you to dig your way out, but you’ll get there. We’ll start by having breakfast and dinner together every night, how does that sound? Just you and me, no one else has to watch”. 

You nuzzled a tiny nod into his chest, your tears finally running dry. It was a terrifying thought, eating normal again, but you were starting to feel hopeful that you might actually be able to do it. 

And so the two of you met every morning and every evening for your scheduled meals, and day by day things began to get easier. You even found yourself staying over in Levi’s room after dinner and into the morning for breakfast sometimes. Spending so much time together was definitely pushing the two of you to address the feelings you’d been hiding for so long. 

But not everything was perfect, it would be irrational to think it would be. You still have bad nights, where eating is so hard you break down into tears, and where you want nothing more than to rid yourself of the food in your system. It’s a draining process, but Levi works hard to make sure you stay on track with your progress. 

It’s slow, but eventually your face starts to glow again, your skin gets smooth and soft, and the aching pains in your body start to fade. Your war with your body is far from over, but you’re doing what you can, and you’re healing yourself one day at a time.

thank u for reading this, and now i would like to give you a gentle reminder to do something nice for your body today. eating disorders and mental illnesses are huge mountains to climb over, but taking things one day at a time makes it a little easier. try and eat a meal today (even if it’s small), go to sleep early and get some rest, take a shower and rub lotion all over your legs so they feel nice against your blankets when you lay in bed. baby steps are better than no steps at all, so be patient with yourself. n go drink some water, ur body loves that shit