#and by well enough I mean physically shes fine but it did do a bit of a number to her relationship with pain but yknow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purple-babygirl · 7 days

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in the far corner of the forest IV

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: mentions of hand injury, idiots in love, feels, jealousy, racism against orcs, angry behaviour, shouting, fight gets slightly physical, bruised arm, crying, angst (i'm sorry). I think that's all.

A/N: good news result in long chapters. thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone who has wished me good luck with my interview, you guys are angels. please enjoyxx💜💜

“You’re in love.”

“I’m what now!?” Bucky chuckled dismissively as he dropped his axe.

Bucky had spent half a day at home, refraining from going to work because of his hand’s condition, but as much as he loved staying home with her, he knew he wasn’t made to take a break.

So he thought he would visit, talk to Sam for a bit and maybe get some pent up ‘feelings’ out on some tree logs. His metal arm was still working just fine after all.

“I said, you’re in love with your human wife,” Sam repeated, smiling so warmly that Bucky wanted to smack him.

“I got her a few weeks ago.” Bucky shook his head in denial of the mere idea of him falling for anyone, let alone a human.

He did love Sam and Sarah, but that was it. They were the only humans he could tolerate. He hated the rest of them. Hell, he hated the human half of himself.

Bucky was just trying to make life easier for himself, that was all. He has been through enough conflicts and he didn’t need this in his marriage too. He deserved to live a normal life like everybody else.

Yes, he was courting her, and maybe he did constantly crave the feel of her body against his ever since she let him hug her the night of the injury, and he was definitely getting hopeful now that she hadn’t tried to run for a whole half day, but that didn’t mean he was in love! Did it?

“And now you’re in love with her.” Sam smirked, knowing how much it drove Bucky crazy that a female human had him on his knees for her love.

“Quit saying that!” Bucky stood up, ready to walk away from his annoying friend.

“Why does it make you so angry that you’re in lo—”

“Don’t,” Bucky warned him, eyes angry and glaring.

“—ve?”

“I am not in love with her, okay! She’s human! Plus, that girl drives me crazy! Do you know how many times I had to bring her back after she’d tried to run in the first two weeks? Five fucking times! That’s almost once every two days, Sam. And she only had one foot working!” Bucky ranted heatedly, desperate to negate his best friend’s theory.

Was he in love with her? And if Sam could see it, did that mean she could too?

“Well, why do you care to bring her back? Why not just let her run?” Sam shrugged, internally dying for Bucky to acknowledge his feelings.

“She could die out there! Humans are weak.”

“So?” Sam probed, intentionally ignoring Bucky’s remark about humans’ strength.

“So— so I signed all those things when she was offered to me. She can’t— I can’t—”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t let her get hurt,” Bucky admitted lowly, sitting down on a log with a loud sigh.

“Why does that make you so upset?” Sam dug deeper.

“Because I think you’re right. I think I might be in love with her.” Bucky rubbed his eye with his good hand, pushing his hair back angrily.

“And?”

“And she thinks I’m the devil.” Bucky’s face fell to his palms.

“Did she ever say that to you out loud?” Sam asked, touching the end of his sharpened blade.

“She doesn’t need to, Sam. I see it in her eyes every time I find her after she’d tried to run away.” Bucky’s voice was broken like his friend has never heard before.

“I thought you said everything was better after your injury?”

“Yeah, but that’s not gonna last forever.” Bucky gave a sad grin, “she’s soon gonna go back to seeing me the same as before.”

“Well, it’s up to you to change her mind, Buck.” Sam patted his friend’s shoulder, giving a squeeze.

Bucky sighed once more before getting up.

Sam was a human. A very handsome one with much less scars and non-icy skin. He would never understand. It would never work. She hated him.

He could continue trying, but it wouldn’t change anything of the way she felt about him and their marriage. She had told him time and time again how she felt about both.

“Going home already?”

“Yeah, I can’t miss the running away bit. It’s my favourite,” he sighed, Sam's laugh trailing behind him.

“Smile at her for a change.”

“Shut up.” I do smile at her. I only ever smile at her.

“Sarah loved the jam by the way!” Sam yelled.

“I’ll let her know!” Bucky yelled back before exhaling sadly.

Sam would never understand. Her taking pity on him those past couple of hours was nothing more than sympathy and likely even guilt.

Sam would never understand that of all the eyes in the world, it seems like Bucky has managed to fall for the only ones that knew how to hurt him, the eyes that would only look at him as a disgusting, frightening monster.

When Bucky got home, everything was creepily in place. His door was closed like he had left it and he actually had to use his key to open it for the first time in a while.

Stepping inside, the warm smell of roast chicken welcomed him back.

The house was warm because all the windows were actually shut, too. It was all so calm and homely; the orc was seriously worried.

And then he heard it: his human wife’s sweet voice, humming the melody of a song unfamiliar to him. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

Bucky carefully shut the door behind him, not wanting her peaceful mood to end so soon as he tried to take lighter steps to where she was.

Much to his dismay though, she needed something from the other side of the kitchen and when she turned around she saw Bucky and gasped, jumping embarrassingly high.

“You scared me!” She whined, holding a hand to her heart.

“Sorry.” Bucky smirked, entertained by how cute she looked when startled.

“Welcome home,” she mumbled with a bit-back grin, holding onto his forearms before getting on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

She never told him, but she was unbelievably thankful when he didn’t specify which type of kiss he expected weeks ago, and even more thankful when he didn’t object to her pecking his cheek before burying herself under the covers.

Life with Bucky has gotten undeniably familiar lately and leaving him was all of a sudden an idea that didn’t interest her as much as before.

Everything he was saying and doing has brought her closer to him without her even comprehending it.

As the days passed, she had realized running away was too exhausting, too risky, and for what? It wasn’t like she had a home to run to or a treasure buried somewhere or a lover worth escaping her orc for.

Her orc.

Hers.

A word she never felt the meaning of until the day Bucky made her his wife.

Bucky was the first and only one to present to her a taste of something she has never had: the feeling of exclusively owning things.

The smile that graced her face when she brushed her hair the first time with the brush Bucky got her was new and unprecedented.

Her brush, he called it.

Her shoes. Her chair. Her towel. Her clothes. Her books. Her side of the bed. Her cottage. Her kitchen.

And her husband.

Everything was brand new and completely hers.

Nothing was handed down to her, nothing was used before the minute her fingers had touched it. None of the things Bucky gifted her had previous owners, including him and his heart.

Most importantly, she didn’t have to share any of it with anybody.

“You’re home,” Bucky said, a surprised yet very happy smile lighting up his handsome features.

“I thought the wife was supposed to say that,” she replied playfully, going back to the bubbling pot.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at the good mood she seemed to be in. He was liking this.

He watched her sprinkle some black pepper into the soup as he came behind her.

She could feel the heat of his body surrounding her even when they weren’t touching and it had her heartbeat going crazy.

“Thank you, little human,” Bucky whispered, before he leaned down and pecked her cheek as well, his stubble and blunt tusks tickling her jaw.

She felt her whole body jolt with electricity at the simple graze of his lips and tusks on her skin as she closed her eyes.

Bucky left the kitchen and went to the bathroom but she was still hot as if his warmth never left her.

And when she opened her eyes and absentmindedly reached her fingertips to touch her cheek, she found herself smiling too.

What was happening to her? What was this foreign feeling lifting her off of her feet in the middle of the kitchen?

“Sam’s sister loved your strawberry jam by the way!” Bucky shouted to her from the bathroom, making her jump again before smiling to herself.

He didn’t use Sarah’s name on purpose, not wanting to ruin her happy mood as he had noticed how angry she got every time he would say it.

“I’ll make her more tomorrow!” She replied with a grin, proud of her hand’s work, her jealousy long forgotten after Bucky’s words of the night before.

After all, how could she be jealous when she was the one that Bucky was looking at like that?

When she finished setting up the table and Bucky didn’t come out of the bathroom, she got a little worried.

He never took too long during his showers, and now that he only had one arm to use, she thought he would cut his showers even shorter.

What if his wound was bleeding again and he didn’t want to tell her and was trying to fix it by himself inside the bathroom? She knew she should have stopped him from going to the yard!

“Bucky.” She knocked on the door softly, wanting to make sure he was okay.

“Yes, little human?” Bucky instantly opened the door for her.

And he looked like a dream.

Steam has surrounded him inside the bathroom, water drops from his still-wet hair dripping down his muscular, bare chest and for the first time since Bucky has been naked around her, she found herself looking at him. Actually looking.

Bucky’s chest was so broad, beefy and ribbed down to his abdomen. Scars of all sizes and shapes littered the beautiful, icy greyish skin, a reminder of the battles he had fought and all the sacrifices he had made.

Her heart clenched at the sight, a pang of sympathy coursing through her as she could only imagine the pain he must have had to endure.

Still, she found her hands tingling in curiosity, desperate to know what tracing the healed skin would feel like under her fingertips.

Bucky was a sight for sore eyes, a sight that both captivated and unnerved her, stirring a flurry of unfamiliar emotions in her chest that she struggled to contain.

She averted her gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

“Are—” she chocked, her voice barely above a whisper as she coughed it out, “are you okay? You took a while.”

“Yeah, I’m just having a hard time drying up my hair with one arm,” Bucky reassured her, chuckling lightly at his dilemma as he let the towel around his neck drop.

He was completely oblivious to the way he just made her face burn up as her thoughts spiraled out of control.

“Come.” She took Bucky’s hand in hers, careful not to squeeze his palm, and led him outside to their bed.

It took Bucky a second to move his feet, but when he did, he felt like he was being carried on top of a cloud.

She felt herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain, her heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness, curiosity and… desire. A new sensation was tingling all over her body, specifically in places she didn’t need to be tingling right now.

Positioning herself between his parted legs, she reached to take the towel from around Bucky’s neck.

His eyes watched her, surprise flickering in them as he realized what she was going to do, unable to believe what was happening.

Sensing her nervousness, Bucky offered her a reassuring, grateful smile, silently encouraging her to continue.

And as she began to carefully pat his damp hair dry, her touch tentative and her eyes focused, he felt warmth welling up inside him.

She couldn’t help but steal glances at his bare shoulder and chest, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the engrossing sight. It was a feeling unlike anything she has ever experienced before, her heart racing with unparalleled excitement.

The awkwardness of the situation began to fade bit by bit as she focused more on the task at hand, in its place growing an overwhelming sense of closeness and familiarity.

Bucky’s hair was so soft under her fingertips as she took the towel up and down the brown locks. She wished she had given herself a chance to touch it more before.

As she finished drying her orc’s hair, she met his gaze with a shy bite of her lip, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence.

Bucky reached out to take her hands, his smile appreciative as his lips pressed a deep kiss on each palm, silently thanking her for her kindness and care.

“I didn’t know your cooking was so good. You surprise me every day,” Bucky praised, as she filled his mouth with more lentil soup, trying not to think of his conversation with Sam or the way his body was still on fire from the mere act of her drying his hair for him.

He couldn’t even believe she was feeding him after seeing him struggle to keep the food on his spoon using his left hand.

“All the girls at the orphanage know how to cook. They teach us all sorts of things and make us to be good housewives,” she replied, suddenly nostalgic of her days at the orphanage, curious to know how, where and when Bucky got the chance to see her back then.

Bucky didn’t say anything, busying his mouth with chewing some bread as his smile shrank.

She didn’t look happy. Why did she stay then? Was she planning on running away at night that day? Maybe she put something in the food?

“I’m glad you like your dinner though,” she said, breaking the thick silence with a soft smile as she fed the orc a piece of chicken.

“Why didn’t you try to leave today?” Bucky couldn’t hold back.

She was taken aback by his question. She thought he wanted her here.

Was he finally done? Did he want her out? Was he not going to look for her this time? Has Bucky given up on her? Was he going to leave her be had she gotten out today?

Most importantly, she didn’t know how to answer because it seemed like she was done running away from her new life with him, and she didn’t know if she could admit that.

“I– did you want me to?” She asked, her voice strained as she tried to hold in the tears.

“No! No, of course not!” He assured her quickly.

“Then?” She chewed on her lip.

“I don’t want you to stop running if it makes you feel alive,” Bucky told her, his blue eyes gushing with love he didn’t intend to show, “I’m willing to go to the ends of the earth to find you.”

“What?” She wasn’t expecting this at all, all the tingles she had hardly managed to shake off after drying Bucky’s wet hair coming back to attack her.

How were these words coming out of an orc! And why did they make her heart stutter in its beats?

“I love your fiery spirit and I’m afraid I’m killing it by keeping you here against your wishes. I never want to be the one to snuff your fire out.” Bucky admitted, eyes sincere as he watched her.

She just stared at him for a moment, stunned as her heart skipped yet another beat.

If he only knew that he was the one who had managed to bring this fiery personality to life.

Bucky respected her silence and went back to enjoying his dinner, not wanting to push her for a reply. She could take her time.

She kept staring at him in confusion for another minute before taking her almost untouched plate and getting up.

She almost ran to the kitchen with her hand on her heart.

What was going on with her? Her heart wasn’t seriously beating this loud for the orc. Could it be?

He sounded so selfless and spoke so gently like he has never before and she was overwhelmed.

His words were doing things to her that she has never felt before. What was wrong with her?

She knew she had caught herself staring at him without a shirt just minutes ago, maybe admiring his eyelashes as he slept in some early mornings, but she rendered it curiosity and nothing more.

She shook her head, her thoughts startling to her as she emptied her plate in the garbage and started washing it vigorously.

Bucky no longer had an appetite, sighing at her reaction.

He told himself he could understand, but it was still hurtful the way she jumped out of her chair.

He left his plate on the table, not wanting to invade her privacy by going to the kitchen before leaving the cottage altogether.

He probably shouldn’t have said anything.

She revisited the subject the same afternoon though, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings between her and Bucky. Not any longer.

“I don’t wanna leave anymore,” she admitted timidly, making Bucky’s smile betray him and his usual frowning.

“But I don’t like being locked away in here all day either,” she said carefully, scared to upset him.

“Where do you wanna go? The forest is dangerous, little human.” Bucky was back to frowning at the thought of anything bad happening to her again.

It was torture for him when her foot was still healing and he was the most relieved when it finally did. He couldn’t just let her roam around when she didn’t know the area.

“Take me out when you come back from work maybe? Or even on your day off,” she suggested, desperate to see the world.

“And go where?”

“Anywhere. We can walk around the woods before it gets dark, you could show me your shop, I could meet Sam? Or we could even go to the market!” She suggested eagerly.

She has been locked up for so long and she didn’t want to continue her life like this.

Bucky actually thought about it and he didn’t hate the idea. Taking her out with him would ensure her safety. He would be by her side and he would protect her. He also liked the thought of taking her out and properly courting her even if she didn’t know that that was what he was doing.

He said he didn’t want to kill her spirit by keeping her in here and she gave him the solution.

“Okay.” Bucky nodded at her with a smile.

“Okay?” She exclaimed happily, not believing Bucky would actually take her out to see around.

“Okay.” He nodded again reassuringly, her happiness making him laugh.

“Well, don’t you have tomorrow off?” She asked suggestively, gesturing to his hand.

Bucky laughed, nodding, “put your shoes on.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” She involuntarily gave his healing hand a squeeze, kissing his cheek before running to get her shoes.

Bucky swallowed hard, hoping he would be able to hold himself together and not completely melt under her sweet company.

“You’ve got to promise me though,” he said.

She looked at him questioningly as she slipped one foot into a shoe.

“No running away, little human.”

“No running away. Promise.” She promised, shaking her head with a shy smile.

Bucky smiled big, taking her smaller hand in his as she grabbed her basket in the other, ready to browse the market with her husband.

Her husband. That was starting to sound unquestionably comforting.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“What?” She tilted her head with a grin.

“You owe me a kiss,” Bucky said, his tone serious.

“No, I don’t! If anything, I just gave you an extra kiss!”

“Yes, you do. From that morning. You’re still one kiss behind!”

“I just made up for it!”

“Doesn’t count. That one covers the night before.” Bucky shrugged, a smile etched on his lips.

“Okay, fine.” She kissed Bucky’s cheek, “stop going around saying other girls’ names though.”

Bucky laughed, “I only know one!”

“Still too many,” she whispered under her breath, but Bucky heard it, smiling from ear to ear as he took his hand in hers, taking the right path out of the woods. ~ It was a beautiful afternoon, full of warm sunshine and fruitful deals. She has got some pretty good stuff for really good prices.

She couldn’t believe Bucky actually gave her pocket money.

He didn’t want her to have to ask him for money every time something caught her eye. He wanted her independent, fulfilled and brave as she bought herself whatever her heart desired.

Her heart was so full and her smile was inerasable.

Bucky didn’t let go of her hand all day and she actually liked it so much that she never complained. The feel of his calloused skin against her soft palm wasn’t like anything she has felt before.

She didn’t want to let go of his hand even while looking at the different stands and booths at the market.

But she eventually liked the flower stand too much and told Bucky she would take a look at them while he continued buying them the fruits he was picking.

“Good afteroon,” a smooth voice interrupted her admiration of the potted plants before her, making her look up for a second.

“Good afternoon.” She smiled coyly.

“Any favorites?” The handsome man inside the booth asked her.

“All of them,” she giggled softly, the sound catching Bucky’s ears at once.

The man laughed back, “okay, I think I have something special for you. How about this one?” He brought her a purple flower from the batch hidden behind him inside the booth.

“Oh, how beautiful! What is this one?” She wondered, amazement sparkling in her eyes at the sight of the pretty petals.

“That is a Globemaster Allium. Pretty, isn’t she?” He asked, staring at her desirously as she looked at the flower.

“Yes, she’s stunning!”

“I’m Cole by the way—”

She heard Bucky clear his throat next to her and looked up at once, the innocent awe in her eyes softening the orc a little.

“Look, Bucky! Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” She pointed to the flower pot excitedly.

Bucky leaned in, his frown scaring her a little, her breath hitching when his lips tickled the shell of her ear, “no, little human, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She chocked on her own saliva, hiding her hot face with her hand as she coughed, “Bucky!” She whined with a shy smile.

Where did that come from!

“Let’s go,” Bucky said with a nod of his head, eyes stern as he glared at Cole.

“Can—” She held his wrist, “can I have it?” She asked softly, gesturing to the flower pot.

Bucky wanted to say no. He didn’t want her to have this farmer’s flower. But he couldn’t say no to those hopeful, beautiful eyes of hers.

“Fine.” He watched her get the money out of her pocket and she smiled gratefully as she almost set them down on Cole’s counter.

“It’s on the house,” Cole said, still smiling dreamily at her.

She could all but swallow as she gave a polite smile back before looking up at Bucky for help.

“Take your goddamn money.” Bucky made a quick job of paying for the flower, taking the money from her and slamming it on the counter, making the whole booth shake.

He quickly took his wife home, deciding that was enough socialization for the both of them for the day.

She wasn’t going to lie, she was loving jealousy on her orc. It felt so intoxicating to have someone love her so much that he was jealous of other men talking to her.

She wouldn’t tell Bucky, but she would probably spend the nights of the next week smiling at the wall every time she remembered how he held her hand back home just a little bit tighter that day.

Her own heart was running wild at the sight of the orc now and she didn’t want it any other way.

“Now you know how it feels,” she teased with a smile as they were getting ready for bed.

Bucky couldn’t let it go, talking about how they were never going to stop by that farmer’s flower booth ever again.

“That’s not the same! I was never into Sarah! But that man was openly ogling you!” Bucky grumbled, his frown digging deep into the skin of his forehead.

“He was just being nice, trying to sell his flowers,” she laughed, upsetting Bucky even more.

How couldn’t she see it? The guy was all over her!

“He was flirting and you were all giggles and blushes.” Bucky copied her, going to the bed and burying himself under the covers, facing the wall.

He understood now why she had done that.

“Hey, that’s my spot!” She joked, not knowing if Bucky was being serious.

“Not tonight,” he murmured from underneath the covers.

“Bucky,” she whined, uncovering her orc’s face.

Bucky didn’t reply, pushing himself closer to the wall.

She tried to bring him on his back by the shoulder like he so easily did her a couple of night ago, but he was too strong for her and his body wouldn’t budge.

She huffed, “okay, you left me no choice.”

Bucky remained still, wanting to see what she meant by that as he felt her shift behind him.

Before he knew it, she was on top of his bicep, trying to slot herself between his body and the wall.

“What on earth—”

“You started it, Bucky!” She said, voice determined as she kept pushing, trying to squeeze herself in the small space accessible.

Bucky looked at her in amusement for a second before moving back, making her body drop as larger space became available.

She landed with the tiniest “ouff” on the mattress, facing Bucky on her side with her back to the wall, its coolness helping soothe the heat rising to the surface of her skin.

That was the closest she had been to Bucky since their hug the night of his injury, face to face as his passionate sapphire eyes watched hers.

“Hi,” she whispered, heart in her throat.

“Hi,” Bucky replied with a charming smile, smoothing some of her ruffled strands back in place.

She stared at the orc’s eyes, not the slightest bit scared of the fact that she was trapped against the wall by his huge body.

“You’re not the only one who wants to be loyal to this marriage, Bucky,” she said, surprising Bucky and herself, “I don’t want the farmer. I don’t want anyone else.” but you.

Bucky smiled in disbelief, taken aback by her words, and she took it as permission to move closer to his chest. He instinctively wrapped her up in a protective hug, wondering how he was able to hold himself back from kissing her.

She pushed her face into her orc’s chest, his scent and warmth engulfing her into a protective bubble.

She couldn’t believe she said the words she has just said and it made her bury her burning face deeper in Bucky’s arms.

He could only hug her tighter, his nose in her sweet-smelling hair as his smile grew bigger.

This moment right there was everything Bucky has ever wished for. He could die a happy orc right then and there.

It became a habit for them to go out to the village on Bucky’s day off. They were both having a great time, getting closer and falling harder.

Cole hasn’t spoken to her again after learning that the snow orc was actually her husband, and she respected Bucky’s feelings and never approached Cole’s booth no matter how pretty the plants on his stand were.

Market outings were their thing now and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.

She didn’t want anyone else’s attention but Bucky’s anyway. His hand has almost fully healed and she could now squeeze it all she wanted whenever she got excited about anything they encountered.

One thing did occur that annoyed her though and that was the way the jewelry lady would look at her every time she and Bucky would pass by. The woman had so much pity in her eyes when she saw her hand in an orc’s and she hated it.

She despised the way people misjudged her orc when he was far better than any human man she could’ve ever ended up with.

Yet, the lady kept giving her those pitiful looks, probably thinking Bucky had enslaved her or something.

But enough was enough.

When Bucky was busy looking at the knives, she made her way to the jewelry lady, determined to put an end to the ridiculousness.

“He is my husband,” she sternly told the lady in the jewelry stand, taking the chance that Bucky wasn’t listening.

“Oh.” The lady quickly gave a kind smile, turning from concerned about her to happy for her, “I apologize for misjudging you, dear. I was only worried about you. We’ve all heard stories about him.”

“Well, that’s all they are. Stories.” She ferociously defended, her eyes still stern.

“I’m sorry,” the woman sincerely expressed her regret, squeezing her hand.

She nodded with a small smile, accepting the older woman’s apology.

“I don’t see a ring on your hand.” The jewelry lady gestured to the collection of rings in her glass box with a wink.

“Oh.”

The sentence caught Bucky’s ears as he turned away to look at her embarrassed face.

“We didn’t get time to buy one. It all happened so quickly,” she explained awkwardly and Bucky’s expression fell.

“I have a pretty collection if you wanna take a look, and don’t worry about the price,” the older lady suggested kindly.

“No, it’s okay—”

“Choose what you like, sweet thing,” Bucky whispered to her, immediately by her side when he saw her eyes skimming over the jewelry, “I’m sorry I’m not familiar with the human marriage traditions. I should’ve gotten you one sooner.”

“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to,” she reassured with a tender smile.

She didn’t need a ring to know that she was Bucky’s.

“I want to. I want you to wear my ring, little human.” Bucky raised her hands to his lips, placing the softest kisses on her each finger.

Her heart surged as a shy smile spread on her lips, heat rising to her cheeks.

“Okay.” She nodded happily, feeling like she was in a dream and she never wanted to wake up.

Though very expensive, Bucky ended up buying her the ring she chose. It was the prettiest gold ring with a moss agate blue diamond.

She tried to talk him out of it, wanting to pick something cheaper, but Bucky wouldn’t have it.

She has never felt as special as she felt with Bucky’s ring on her finger. It was the prettiest thing from the most handsome orc.

And in that very moment, she was the happiest that she trusted her gut; that she gave Bucky, and herself a chance for this marriage to be something more than a contractual deal.

Bucky couldn’t believe she has finally let him make her his. When he slipped that ring on her tiny finger, he felt like he was king of the world.

While walking back to their cottage, a new dream got unlocked inside of her, one that included her and Bucky and their very own little stand in the market.

“Can we stop by the shop before we go home?” She asked tentatively.

“Sure, why? Did you forget something there yesterday?”

She has been to the shop a couple of times, curious to meet the important people in Bucky’s life and possibly have friends of her own, too.

“No, just wanna show Sarah the ring,” she said, a shy smile lighting up her happy face.

Bucky brought her hand to his lips, kissing her ring finger this time, “to the shop it is.”

Everything was going amazingly and she wished with all her heart that it would stay that way, but unfortunately, the very next day was a day for another fight that none of them saw coming.

Bucky still hasn’t recovered from her little stunt a few weeks ago and today he came back to find the cottage empty again.

He should have locked the door. He shouldn’t have trusted that a ring on her finger might stop her old habits or give her a magical change of heart.

What about all the small moments she had shared? Did those mean nothing to her?

Bucky’s anger and feeling of betrayal wiped away everything nice that had happened between the two of them, only remembering that she never wanted to be here in the very first place.

“Why are you so adamant about making me lose my mind?” Bucky asked, pushing her inside and slamming the door behind them.

“I’m not! Would you just listen?!” She yelled back, startled by the harsh treatment.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Bucky shouted as if he didn’t hear her.

“I was just—”

“Wandering through the forest alone is dangerous, I’ve told you time and again, and yet you keep doing it!”

“Would you listen to me?!”

“No! You acted like you would stop running, so what changed?!” Bucky threw his big arms in the air, making her take a step back.

Bucky looked bigger than he usually did when he was livid like that.

“I wasn’t running!” She repeated, her voice tinged with anger of her own at the distrust.

“Stop lying!” Bucky growled, roughly grabbing her by the arm.

“I’m not lying,” she insisted as she tried not to wince at the way Bucky held her forearm, her jaw clenched defiantly.

“Then what were you doing up the hill, huh?” Bucky unconsciously squeezed her arm harder.

“You’re hurting me.” She tried to pull away, but Bucky wouldn’t release her.

“You think you’re the only one who has fucking feelings?” Bucky shook her in his hold, unintentionally bruising her further.

She cried out but it fell on deaf ears, “Bucky, let me go!”

“Do you think what you do doesn’t affect me just because I’m not a goddamn human?!” He forced her closer, making her tears fall as he barked in her face.

His words hung heavy in the air, echoing through the spacious room.

“Bucky, please,” she tried again, not wanting to fight anymore.

Bucky finally listened, suddenly shocked at his actions as he let her arm go.

It’s been so long since he had made her cry and he just ruined everything good he had worked on building with her.

She just stood there, whimpering in pain as she held her arm to her chest.

Bucky watched her roll the sleeve of her winter dress up to look at her arm and there they were: thick fingerprints on her flesh.

“I— I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to get closer to look at her arm, swallowing hard.

To his surprise, she let him.

“I’m sorry, little human.” Bucky wiped a few of her tears away, regret evident in his voice.

“I wasn’t running,” she repeated, pushing her hands in the pockets of her dress, “I was collecting berries to decorate the cake I made earlier.” She pulled handfuls of now ruined wild strawberries, raspberries and blackberries out of her pockets and dropped them on the wooden table for him to see.

She left Bucky alone to stare at the berries and went to the kitchen.

And boy did he stare.

He felt so stupid and ashamed at the way he had reacted. He just hurt her and she wasn’t even trying to leave. He wouldn’t let her explain either and had unjustly judged her.

She got out a cold water bottle from the fridge, pushing it to her bruised arm.

Bucky walked into the kitchen, shame branded on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, not knowing what to do to correct his mistake.

“What do you think?!” She irritably snapped at him, waving her bruised arm in the air.

“I just wanted to help!” Bucky barked back.

“Well, I don’t want your help!” She shouted.

“Fine! Don’t want it!” Bucky walked out, his feet stomping on the wooden floors.

He stormed out of the cottage, violently slamming the door behind him.

Bucky then realized what he has just done and how he had made the situation even worse. He kicked a rock so hard he was sure it flew to the other side of the forest as he saw birds flying disruptively.

“Damn it!” He yelled out loud, slamming his fist to the door, making her flinch inside the cottage.

The fight between the orc’s rough exterior and his rather tender feelings for her was torturing Bucky. What he meant to show was that he cared about her and was worried for her, but instead he’d done what he’d done.

She, on the other side of the wall, irately got out of the kitchen with the trash bin and swept the berries from the table, throwing them in the garbage.

When Bucky got inside again, she was cleaning the stain of the berries from the table, her features still twisted in a frown.

He opened his mouth, trying to think of anything he could say to fix this, but nothing came out. With a sigh, he left the cottage once more, leaving her all alone.

She sat down with a huff, throwing the cloth in her hand across the room.

She let her tears run in frustration.

It was supposed to be a peaceful night where they enjoyed a delightful desert that she has worked hard on making and was going to work hard on decorating.

She was trying to start a life with him. Why did he have to ruin it like that? She wasn’t running. How could she make him believe her?

She desperately wanted, needed Bucky to trust her.

She cried harder, feeling helpless in the face of her orc’s rage as her heart clenched at the thought of a happiness gone so soon.

Part V

Tag List:

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fire-lizard-ro · 15 days

Text

Ratio as a dad (kinda). Written for my dear @pix3lplays (they already saw this when I initially wrote it).

CW: none it’s all fluff (kinda)

Reader gender: no use of pronouns (as far as I remember) but AFAB

Writing under the cut (SFW):

So when you tell him, he doesn't know how the hell to feel. You guys never really had the children talk, but you could tell that he wasn't really ready for that because of a mix of being too busy, not really understanding children, and never really thinking about it.

To him, children are snot-nosed, loud, emotional little gremlins.

But he never thought about children in the context of you and him. A child born of your flesh and blood. Something you have made together through the miracle (or simple science, as Veritas would say) of procreation.

It would take him a while to think of it that way.

Initially, since this is in the scenario where you're already married, I think that he would be fine with it so long as you're happy with it. He does his logical reasoning and thinks, "Oh. I have the means to raise a child and she wants it." So he doesn't really see a problem with it besides perhaps the stress it will inevitably put on you and having to deal with the messy and emotional rollercoaster ride that is children.

At some point while laying in bed with you after weeks of reading prenatal care and child rearing books, he begins to get curious. Curious about what it would really be like to father a child that the both of you made. That's how things start. Curiosity.

Would the child look like you? He would like that if they could resemble his lovely spouse.

Would they look like him? He would also like this as there would be no doubting who the father of your child was. A reminder of how the two of you were undeniably together.

Would they look like the both of you? He would enjoy this outcome the most as it would be the best of both options.

Would they have his intelligence that he prides himself on? Your smile that he loves, even if quietly?

Because of this process of beginning to be curios and thinking about the child yet to be born, it's not hard for him to subconsciously relate good feelings (and chemicals like dopamine and serotonin, he'd think) to the child themself.

You're happy when you talk about the child and what you'll do for them and how you'll care for them. He's happy when you're happy. He's pleased when thinking about how people will be able to see a physical manifestation of your love and belonging with each other. You're happy to be having his child. He's happy about that, too.

While your feelings regarding the child is like a warm spring day or a cup of hot tea just boiled, his are more mild, still. Like your tea, already cooled, or a warm blanket. There are positive feelings involved now, and even he cannot deny it (at least to himself).

He takes care of you well, following the advice of the books and experts to the T. Perhaps a little too closely because it's a bit overprotective. You're his. Which also means it's in his obligation to take care of you well.

But when the child is born... I think there's at least a spark there. I'm not sure it's enough to light that flame quite yet, but now... He realizes that this really is his child. His and yours. He has your pretty eyes but with his color. The curl of your hair and the slope of his nose. Oh. Oh...

This child...

As the years go on and he spends time caring for the child and spending time with them, he begins to find all these little endearing things about them. How they'll seek him out even in sleep. How they'll smile at him happily, the slant of it so much like yours. How they'll crawl and eventually waddle their way to him when they begin to cry... Even just the fact that he spends time with them is enough to grow this bond. And at some point, they're off to school and it's clear they did, indeed, have his intelligent mind. But they're far more soft around the edges. Much more susceptible to the inherent loneliness, boredom, and ridicule, even, that comes with such intelligence.

But... he gets it. He never really thought anyone understood him at that age and for him? It was lonely but he was irritated by it more than anything. He had thicker skin than his child at that age.

So when they come to him about it all, he can only try his best to let them know he gets it even if he doesn't know how to express such a thing.

Ever heard the saying, "Even a beast will love its child?"

He’s not a nice person. His personality is rough and no one would ever think he could be suited to something as delicate as fatherhood.

And yet…

While he's not one for grand gestures, I think the kid would be able to see he cares.

It's in the little things for him.

Talking about the things they're interested in at school.

Telling them about his work and the things he researches. Being patient with them unlike how he is with his students. ("They are grown. But you are not," he would say with a short pat to the head before going back to checking over their homework with care.)

Rewarding them for their achievements, even if it's with something small.

All sorts of small things.

(He'll never admit it, but you have a picture of the two napping while the kid was sprawled against his side, head tucked into his neck.)

Anyways ofisjgeo yeah-

Hopefully this isn’t too delusional goodbye- I was trying to make him a Relatively Good Dad for Pix while also making sure he was still mostly in-character. OTL

#Roro writes #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dr ratio x reader #dr. ratio x reader #gn reader #afab reader #hsr x gn reader #honkai star rail x gn reader

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luveline · 8 months

Note

Omg ok Jade my love can I request a princess soulmate au with Steve? Where reader is Prince Steve’s soulmate but maybe she’s not royal herself and is struggling a bit with being the future princess?

Almost like similar vibes to some of the loser gf with rockstar Sirius things you’ve done

thank you sm for your request! (sci-fi fairytale au) prince!steve

cw talk of losing weight to fit into a dress

Prince Steven sits across from you with a bowl of grapes and a pair of embroidery scissors. He's going to stab me, you think morosely. I'm wretched and boring and he's going to stab me and then the stars will give him another soulmate and he'll forget this whole misfortune.

He seems lost for words as you are, or uninterested. You think he's going to talk and he eats another grape instead, hair fluttering in the breeze that filters in from the balcony, his eyes trained on the holoscreen. He's pretty —soft face, softer hair, almond shaped eyes that seem perpetually amused— but more alarmingly, he's fit. Physically fit from years of sports. Royals do all manner of olympiad competition, evident in his toned shoulders and his sun-kissed skin.

"How's your embroidery?" he asks suddenly.

You startle, pretending you'd been attending to that rather than staring at him uselessly. "It's going well, Prince Steven," you lie. You've never embroidered before —you have practical sewing skills for darning scuffed trousers and patching elbows, but embroidery is a labour of time. Time is a luxury you haven't had.

"Steve," he corrects.

"Do I… Is it really okay for me to call you that? Won't people think I'm presumptuous?"

"Ten dollar word." He slides the bowl toward you, a beautifully glazed ceramic piece that likely cost more than your month's rent. "Well, they usually let me have whatever I want, and I want you to call me Steve. And to relax. And eat more."

"I can't. They said I need to fit into my wedding dress."

"The wedding dress needs to fit you," Steve says, the simple cut of his button down pulled snug to his chest as he leans back in his chair. "Not the other way around. Is that why you didn't eat much at breakfast? Or was it just gross?"

"It wasn't gross," you say softly.

"You don't have to do any of that stuff, either, if it's boring."

You run your finger down the creamy linen stretched between your bamboo hoops. "I don't know if it's boring. I can barely do it."

"You're too mean to yourself," he says.

Steve stands and puts his arm behind his head, pushing his elbow until something clicks. Embarrassed by his dismissal, you stare at your hands and fume at yourself when they begin to tremble.

It's too much. All of it. The cruel Palace attendants who know you're not good enough. Steve and his good nature. The wedding dress, the fine China, your wonky stitches.

Steve steps to your side. He holds out his hand, and you pass him your embroidery without meeting his eyes. Your mood worsens at the sharp slink of snipping, sure that Steve will cut your pattern from the sketch and tell you to start again.

"Sorry, your white knot at the back was bothering me. Pass me a slimmer needle? I'll tuck it behind your stitches."

Astonished, you pass Steve a smaller needle from the pin cushion. His brows creases gently as he works, rewiring the white thread with patience and efficiency.

"There. It looks really nice, honey. You're a fast learner." He passes you the hoop. You take it a beat too slow and he either doesn't notice or doesn't make a fuss, chucking you under the chin softly. "Don't worry so much. I'll talk to Cordelia about your wedding dress, the idea that you need to fit into it like it's one size fits all is dumb. It's made for you. Like, what are they expecting?"

"They're probably hoping this is all a big mistake."

"Did someone say that to you?"

"Nobody had to say it to me, I can tell from the way they look at…" Steve takes your face into his hand, effectively killing anything you'd been trying to say.

He seems royal, then. Used to getting his way, maybe, the disapproving lining of his otherwise sweet eyes. You get a flash of a memory, the morning you'd been presented, Steve in his finery with his platinum crown like a beacon in brown hair, you in your best dress, embarrassingly drab in comparison, your hand offered. He'd been meeting with eligible women all week.

You were there as a formality. Never for a second did you think your soul mark would react to his, lines of light around your opposite wrists.

To think you'd worried about touching him. You could never imagine how beautifully careful he is, how tender. You didn't know men were like this until Steve showed you, his niceness apparently bone deep and in everything he does.

"If people are being jerks, you have to tell me." You never imagined how casual and vulgar he'd be either. "What's the point in being a princess if people don't respect you?"

"I'm not a princess," you say. Your heart is a hummingbird as he turns his hand and strokes your cheeks with the backs of his fingers.

"You will be. Nothing can change that. You're going to be a princess, and you can do as much or as little as you want, because those dorks left me in charge and I say so. I can decree it, if that makes you feel better," he says, dropping his hand, the phantom of it lingering like static shock.

"What if I'm not meant for this?" you ask quietly, shy but terrified enough to ask.

"I was meant for you," he says, tone matching yours in timidity. His sleeves rolled up as they are, you can see the soft light of his soul mark taking a pink hue. "Right?"

Your soul mark glows a gentle pink to match his. Because you and Steve don't know one another well, not yet, but the feeling is there, thrumming under the skin like a pulse. Not love, not not love, a glowing desire. A want to know him.

There have been moments where you wished he wasn't a Prince, but then there's no guarantee you ever would have met.

"Right," you mouth, offering him a small smile.

"We were meant to be together…" Steve bends at the waist, meeting your eyes. He's yet to kiss you in the week since you met, but his touches come braver everyday, the unfamiliarity between you melding into butterflies. His smirk shakes them awake. "So let's be together the way we want to. Think of princess-ing as optional."

"And you as mandatory?"

"I'm also optional," he says with a warm laugh. "But dinner is not. I need to know what you like, if we're going to get married."

You practically gulp. Right. You're going to be his soulmate, his princess, and his wife.

"Don't be scared. I'm not cooking it, chef Joyce is." Steve brushes hair from his eyes like a model from the giant holo screens, unaware of his own attractiveness. "I'm a shitty cook. My talents lie in other things," he drawls grandly, "like lacrosse, and neck massages."

He winks. You laugh genuinely for the first time since you met him, and his face splits with glee.

—

if you want to request anything for this AU please do! steampunk princess soulmate and her smitten prince is my new fave thing

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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actiniumwrites · 2 months

Text

kiss me (not)

synopsis: how they’d react when you dodge/ wipe off their kisses for a day as a prank

characters: gaming, kujou sara, heizou, tighnari, cyno, kaveh, and lyney x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, some humor, established relationships, etc

notes: i love this prompt so much omg. i’ve read a lot of fics other people have written for different fandoms and i’m actually shocked i haven’t written it before considering i eat it up every time (especially when there’s some angst 🫠)

gaming:

the first time he sees you wipe off his kiss, something in him dies a little, especially when you don’t say anything after he asks if you’re okay

so he starts doubting himself and compensating for where he may went wrong

maybe he had bad breath? or you weren’t having a good day today?

he hates that he doesn’t know what he did wrong, and even worse, why you keep doing it throughout the day

you only stop when you see the way he genuinely starts beating himself up over it, deciding it wasn’t funny anymore and honestly never was

“it was a prank,” you nudge him softly, regret overflowing from your voice, “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. i shouldn’t have kept it going for so long.”

a relieved breathe and a small smile from him follow right after. you can tell he’s still a bit stuck on the whole thing, but deep down, he’s just grateful he didn’t screw up somewhere because there’s no way in hell gaming would ever let himself lose you

“it’s okay,” he breathes out, clutching your hand a little tighter than usual, “just please, don’t do it again, okay?”

kujou sara:

to say she’s confused is an understatement

she’ll immediately backtrack to make sure she actually just saw that correctly. did you really just wipe off her kiss?

so she goes in for another one, and sure enough, you dodge her this time and send her a quick goodbye before slipping out of the house and running off to work

it legitimately ruins her whole day. she can’t even function at work because it’s all she can think about

and by the time she’s home at night, she’s already tired and just wants you but she’s also too afraid that maybe she did something to upset you

fortunately for her, you spare her of the prank knowing your girlfriend well enough to know that the second she walks through the door she had a shitty day

so you apologize and tell her it was just a prank and you didn’t mean any harm

and she wants to be so mad at you for it, but literally can’t no matter how hard she tries so instead she just gives in and gets the kiss she’s been thinking about all day

heizou:

he realizes right away what you’re doing and finds it rather amusing

so he’ll play along too, not trying to kiss you at all and even going a step further and not showing you any sort of physical attention

try to hold his hand? not happening. hugging him? not a chance

and it ends up becoming a competition, because what can you say? you’re both competitive people

goes on until the end of the day and only ends when you’re both too tired to keep it up

“you’re no fun, you know?” you poke his chest as you tiredly lean against him

he smiles down at you, “how so? i let you play your little pranks, didn’t i? i even played along.”

you just scoff and scoot away, tucking yourself into the warm blankets and ignoring his teasing

but then he’ll grab you and pull you into his chest, giving into you, “fine. next time i’ll give you the reaction you want. happy now?”

tighnari:

the opposite of heizou: he’s very unamused, and is very aware of what’s going on.

as soon as you back away from him after he tries to kiss you, his face falls into a deadpan and he crosses his arms menacingly

“i’ll have you know i don’t find pranks like these very funny,” he’ll immediately tell you off, not wanting to act so childishly when it comes to affection

tighnari cares a lot about people, whether he shows it or not, so to have you pretend to dodge it upsets him — even if it is meant to be a mere lighthearted prank

so you apologize instantly, feeling a little bad over the whole ordeal, “it’s just a prank, you know? i thought it would be funny to see how you’d react.”

definitely the kind of person to feel a little bashful and guilty for overreacting over something so silly, but also doesn’t want to admit it

so he’ll just silently kiss you and act like nothing happened, secretly hoping you’ll never try to pull something like that again

cyno:

at first, he thinks it’s kinda funny since he always plays jokes. however, i think he’s similar to tighnari in the sense that he also takes a little offense to it

like, he knows it’s a joke, but he just can’t help feeling a little hurt over it

“is something the matter?” he’ll ask while you’re both on the way to meet with friends. you shake your head no, fighting a smile

defeatedly, he leaves it at that, knowing you won’t budge. he’ll feel miserable the entire time and won’t stop thinking about how you won’t give the prank up, even in front of your friends

and when you both leave for the night, he crosses his arms and confronts you as you both walk home, “it isn’t funny.”

“what isn’t funny?”

“your prank. it isn’t funny. i don’t like the way you’re avoiding kissing me,” he says bluntly. it makes your heart sink into your stomach a bit, admittedly starting to feel a bit bad

so you apologize and work everything out, telling him you got the idea from alhaitham who was curious to see how he’d react in a situation like that — that, and he felt like pissing cyno off for a day, but you didn’t need to know that part

he’ll get frustrated, but is glad it’s all settled. he’ll also be extra affectionate throughout the next week, feeling as if he somehow lost time with you

kaveh:

gets so offended omg he will literally hate you

the first time you do it, his jaw drops to the floor and he calls you out on it immediately

“what was that?” he points an accusatory finger at you

you bite back a smile and feign innocence, “huh? what are you talking about?”

will not let you leave for the day until you drop the act and properly return his kiss

when you continue to go on with the prank, however, he’ll start to get all pouty and just ask you to kiss him

and he just looks so cute that you cup his face and give him a big fat kiss and walk out the door immediately after without a word and a big smile on your face, satisfied with his reaction

lyney:

he gets so dramatic about it it’s not even funny

will literally clutch his chest and fall to the ground in public so that you stop him

when you don’t and you let him face public humiliation (because you find it funny too), he stops himself and gets back up

follows you around like a lost puppy all day and will constantly try to sneak in a kiss while you’re caught of guard, but you never fall for it and he gets so much more frustrated each and every time

then he begs lynette and freminet to help him, except they think it’s funny too seeing how whipped he is for you

and he knows it’s a prank too, but the fact that you won’t break makes him so lovingly annoyed with you

you don’t stop until lynette genuinely intervenes, complaining about how annoying lyney had gotten throughout the day, “please end his suffering already. you know my brother is an idiot who doesn’t shut up and i’ve had enough of him today.”

you laugh it off, but ultimately agree

so you go and find him, which wasn’t that hard, and tap him on the shoulder before planting a gentle kiss to his lips, “sorry for pranking you. it was just too funny of an opportunity to pass up.”

“you’re so mean to me,” he’ll complain, but will then continue to kiss you so often that you’re now the annoyed one instead

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #gaming x reader #gaming x you #kujou sara x reader #kujou sara x you #heizou x reader #heizou x you #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #cyno x reader #cyno x you #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you

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pelova4president · 2 months

Text

Lovey Dovey

Jill Roord x Doctor!Reader

summary~ Jill just had her ACL surgery and is still high on the anesthesia.

Jill wasn’t a fan of surgery’s, how could anyone be. She was nervous about this whole procedure. Tearing her ACL in her prime had done a number on her, not only physically but mentally too. But the surgery had to be done and she knew that.

You’ve been dating Jill for about a year now. You met through your mutual friend, Vivianne Miedema. The first few months were long distance, with you working in England and Jill in Germany. You hadn’t really seen eachother throughout the World Cup but kept in touch, texting her good morning and goodnight and recording voice notes. And sometimes you took in into yourself to make her a vlog about your day, she liked those most.

Driving was Jill’s thing, she enjoyed it and you loved that she loved it. You had certain tasks without really agreeing on them, they had just become your unassigned jobs in your relationship. Your girlfriend was a little sceptical, letting you drive in her still quite new car.

Jill had hidden the keys to her car and you were not having it. “Jill tell me where the fucking keys are.” you sighed, having searched for it everywhere by now. She simply shook her head with a childlike frown.

You simply had no other choice than to threaten her. “Jill you better tell me where they are or i won’t kiss you until you can play full football games again.”, now that got her attention. “That’s just mean, you can’t do that to me baby” the woman groaned sinking even further into the couch.

“Watch me.” you said, arms folded under eachother. “Fine, under the blue vase in the kitchen.” she finally admitted. You leaned forward to place a kiss on her forehead to thank her.

Finding the keys you sigh, “Let’s go baby.”.

The drive to the hospital was rather chaotic, well it was for you. You had to watch the road in front of you and listen to your stubborn girlfriend telling you how to drive and how she thought this was just a horrible idea, she should’ve never ‘given’ you the keys.

It was a wonder Jill was still alive after that trip, she could’ve sworn she had atleast two heart attacks and went into multiple cardiac arrests. But luckily for her a docter was driving, well lucky to some extent.

You wheeled her into the big building, you knew her anxiety was spiking but you’ve talked her through the procedure multiple times. “Jilly, you’re gonna be okay. I’ll be with you, when you go to sleep and i’ll be there when you wake up.” you said, squeezing her shoulder to reassure her.

The Dutch Lioness had to change and got ready for her surgery. With a peck to the lips she let go. “I love you” she told you. “Love you too, you’re very brave Jilly.” you kissed before she fell into a deep slumber.

Waking up from the surgery you expected her to be a bit dazed out but she was more than that.

Stroking patterns on her arms you soothed her. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, a groggy groan caught your attention. “Hey, you’re with us again. I bet you’ve had some pretty weird dreams hmm?” you said getting her to look at you.

“Why’s the light so lightly?” her raspy voice sounded. Laughing at her sleepy state you answered, “Hospital lights are supposed to be like that baby.”

Jill was taken aback by that. “Why are you calling me baby? I’ve already got a liefje.” Jill frowned. You had to hold your laugh in at that.

“Jill look at me, i’m your liefje.” she finally fully opened her eyes and took a good look at you. Satisfied she hummed, “I’ve done really good. You’re very pretty and nice and pretty.” your girlfriend slurred, dragging the ‘really’ out. “Can you do a spin for me liefje? Pretty please.” she asked you sweetly.

Standing up you did a ballerina like twirl. “Good enough for you baby?” you asked her, hand on your hip. She approved your twirl and demanded a kiss. “I want a kiss now.” you walked towards her to give in but apparently you didn’t move fast enough and she started getting out of the hospital bed.

“Jill! Stay there, you’re not supposed to be on your feet already!” you yelled a bit annoyed. She probably couldn’t stand on her leg yet and definitely not now that she was still so dazy.

Quickly she let loose of the bed railing and laid back again. “Okay okay, but i need a kiss to make it better!” she was gonna be the death of you.

You got into bed with her and almost immediately she wrapped herself around you, kissing every bit of your face. “I” kiss “love” kiss “you” kiss “so so so so” kiss “much” she snuggled into you. “Jilly, i love you too” you giggled into the crook of her neck.

The two of you got to go home after a few hours but Jill was still a bit out of it. You tried to get her to sit in the passenger seat but she wouldn’t let go of you. “Jilly, you need to let go, i can’t drive us home like this.” you told her.

And even in het dazed state she caught on to the fact you were driving her car. “You don’t need to drive us home schatje. Uber and i’ll drive it home another day.” she negotiated with you.

“Oh shut up. You’re not gonna die, you baby.” you rolled your eyes at her. Jill placed her hand over her heart and acted like she just got stabbed in it. “Big baby.” you laughed.

Arriving home she still wouldn’t let you go. You had to carry her out of the car and placed her on the couch. “I’m gonna die if you won’t stay with me. You’re a doctor, don’t let me die, you signed to safe all the life’s you possibly can!” she yelled when you got up to make the two of you some tea.

“Stop saying that! You’re not gonna die.” you yelled from the kitchen. “You don’t know that until you find me dead on the couch in a few seconds.” you heard her mumble when you walked into the living room with two cups of hot tea in hand.

It was a hard day for her and you knew that so you kept her close. If you were all she needed you would be there. And after what must’ve been a tiring day for her she fell asleep next to you, holding your hand as tight as she could in her sleep.

y/n_y/l/n posted on their story

A/N i just realised that the anon might’ve meant that Jill and R met at the hospital but well.. too late now sorry

#jill roord x reader #jill roord #nedwnt #oranjeleeuwinnen #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #engwnt #man city women #leah williamson #arsenal wfc

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stubz · 4 months

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"Human Max?"

"Mmyesh?"

"Why'd you ruffle my feathers?"

"Oh, I used to do that to your sister when she came here. I won't do it anymore if you don't like it though."

"No. I liked it. It was kinda like when Mom and Dad clean my feathers. Tickly and scratchy."

"Well that's good."

"...Human Max?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you ruffle Salia's feathers?"

"Hmmmm, Iiiiiii don't know. I just did it without thinking."

"Why?"

"Maybe because my family did that to me when I was a kid and so I wanted to continue that with you kids."

"Why?"

"Why I wanted to continue it or why my family did that to me?"

"Both!"

"Emira why do you do this to me. Oookay! Lemme think for a sec" they said while thinking of an answer to hopefully prevent the why apocalypse.

"Uhhh-I think it's because humans just like physical touch from people we like, love and care about...Yeah! In fact, if we don't get enough we get touch-starved."

"This sounds like a trick."

"Would I ever trick you?"

"Yes, you said that humans will die from loudness to keep us from screaming too much."

"...you got me there but I promise you I am not lying."

"...you really get 'starved' if you don't get touched enough?"

"Erm, by 'touched' I mean hugged, high-fived, hand-holding, head pats, stuff like that. Not something that sounds like the start of a dirty joke..."

Few days later~~~

"Max! Get in here! Now!

"What?! Did someone get hurt?! Did Qiqi eat glue again???"

"Look."

Max finally came around the corner and saw the other human trapped in the most adorable way ever imaginable. Younglings hugged and clung to Kim like they were a lifesaver in a terrible storm. Legs were trapped and sat on, weighted to the ground by children. Waist and torso were covered by living backpacks/frontpacks. Arms shaking while trying to hold the younglings in their arms while steadying the ones clambering on their shoulders.

"Help. Me."

"Let me get my phone I need this as my new wallpaper."

"Max! I'm seriously about to crush like 10 kids with my fat arse if I don't stand properly in the next 10 seconds."

"Got it, can't have you manslaughter children. Hug time's over kids, off of Kim."

"But Maxie if we do then Kim will die!"

"Marl for the 5th time I'm not dying."

"But your starving!"

"Sweetheart please, I am most defiantly not starving."

"Emira said so tho!"

"Yeah! You were stuck in your room for days with no one to hug you! And Max told me that if humans don't get enough hugs or pats you'll starve!!" her beak quivered, eyes starting to get glassy.

"Oooh, Emira, kids, Kim is fine. Yes no one was there to give Kim hugs but she's fine. For a human to starve for hugs will take some time, and Kim wasn't gone for that long."

"Really?"

"Really, besides I was there to give her soup and high-fives so she wouldn't get lonely."

"...can we still hug you for a bit longer?"

"Of course, but let me sit down so I don't fall down."

The younglings clamber of her and allow the human to sit and then climb back ontop her. Noting how not everyone got to hug Kim, Max came in and together the humans were trapped by a mesh of children clinging tightly to their favorite humans.

"Max."

"Yeah Kim."

"As punishment for what happened your buying lunch...and carrying me to lunch cause my legs are in a coma right now."

"Fair enough."

#humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans in space #the adventures of kim and max running a space child care centre

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always-andromeda · 2 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Frankie Morales x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 3,038

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ After recruiting you to be his plus one for yet another wedding, Frankie can't help but ruminate on and regret the last one he brought you to.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ Hey, Lolabee!! I'm super excited to finally share that I'm your secret Valentine!! I apologize in advance for posting this so late in the game; exam week has been super hectic. That being said, I decided to give myself a little bit of a challenge and write something for Frankie for the first time ever. I should preface this by saying that when I read your prompt for rom-com vibes, I immediately began filing through all of my favorite rom-coms. And since my current favorite is Plus One, this fic is very much inspired by it!! Happy late Valentine's Day!! (dt: @thelightsandtheroses) (divider credits: @cafekitsune)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ fluff with little bits of angst (regardless, minors, please do not interact), no physical description given to the reader except for the fact that she wears makeup, mentions of alcohol and references to the reader drinking, the slightest references to Frankie's past, this fic is almost entirely removed from the movie's canon (these characters are basically my paper dolls that I'm making do cute things<3), idiots in love, they tease each other, they go to a wedding, misunderstandings occur, but it all works out <3

“You’re bringing your own tissues this time, right?” Frankie called from where he sat at the edge of the bed. He’d slept in far worse places. But he could already feel new knots forming on top of the old ones in his back. Needless to say, he wasn’t looking forward to spending yet another night attempting to sleep on the dense hotel room mattress.

You replied from the bathroom, “Oh, yeah, don’t worry. I’m prepared.”

“You better be. Because you’re not using my tie to blow your nose again.”

If you were in the room, Frankie could’ve practically felt your glare burning a hole through him. But instead he only heard the clear exasperation in your tone when you answered, “I did not use your tie to blow my nose.”

“Might as well have…” he mumbled. Santi’s wedding had claimed that casualty. By the end of the ceremony you’d soaked his tie in tears and covered it with a fine layer of translucent powder from dabbing your face off. And as much as he teased, he hadn’t minded it. He hadn’t minded it any more than he’d minded the distant friends and relatives who’d assumed that you were his girlfriend. Which…wasn’t an insulting assumption by any means.

The next time – at Benny’s wedding – Frankie brought you tissues. He didn’t like to think about Benny’s wedding. But if there was one thing he was happy about, it was that he’d thought far enough ahead to bring them for you. He was glad to see your smile. To feel your arms wrap around him as you thanked him and told him he was such a sweetheart. He was also grateful for the Hawaiian sun; for the developing sunburn that had prevented you from seeing how much that one nickname made his cheeks flush in that moment.

Your head popped out of the bathroom doorway, your makeup only half done, to aim a smartass smile at him with your lined lips. “Hey, I like to think of it as a gift. You should too.”

“Your ability to cry at the drop of a hat?”

“You're damn right,” you said indignantly.

Frankie sighed, pushing his hair back for about the dozenth time. He then laid back on the bed and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. “If we’re lucky, this is the first and last time you’ll need to worry about packing some to begin with. Will’s the last stop on the wedding train.”

The thought almost made him misty eyed. Within a few hours, he’d be the last single man in his crew. The last one awake at the sleepover. Eyes so wide they were practically ablaze staring through the uncertainty of night. Unable to find sleep. Unable to believe he’d ever find it to begin with.

Your voice cut through his trance. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Maybe next year we’ll get an invite for Tom’s second wedding,” you teased.

Frankie rolled his eyes. At least he could take some sort of comfort in that. Redfly had tried out the whole settling down thing. And it just didn’t work. Frankie wished his buddies well, but he couldn’t help but feel deep down that they’d never be made for domesticity. They weren’t made for teary-eyed speeches and destination weddings.

“Don’t count on it,” he drawled.

“Don’t count on it,” you mimicked Frankie’s slow, gruff voice which earned a small laugh from him. “I’ll tell you what, I bet you that Ben’s best man speech isn’t going to be nearly as good as Will’s was.”

He attempted to recall what Will had even said only a few months prior. It had to have been good, the man was a public speaker, for Christ’s sake. He guessed, “That one was long, right?”

“Yeah…don’t you remember it? Frankie, were you even there?”

“I was there alright.” He laughed to mask the wince he wanted to let out. Then he cleared his throat, throwing out another vague guess, “But I seem to remember that by the end of it, he needed some damn tissues too.”

“If you had a shithead little brother who managed to get married before he could experience massive head trauma, you’d probably get a little choked up too.” You added more to yourself than to him, “God, Frankie, how do you forget a speech like that? It was fucking beautiful.”

There was a very high likelihood that he had forgotten. Frankie spent almost every day following that entire night trying to forget it. And he wondered how in the world you remembered it either considering how much you’d drank.

If you could remember what Will had said…you should’ve remembered what you’d said too, right? You, standing in the bathroom and observing yourself in the mirror as you combed through your lashes to separate them, had to have known what you said to him that night. Because he knew it. Whether he liked it or not, he had that particular speech memorized with the way it ran through his head.

Frankie had known you were in a tough spot. Hell, it was part of the reason why he’d brought you along; part of the reason why Benny had insisted Frankie take you.

She just got broken up with, Frankie had tried to reason.

Benny had merely smirked, Which is the exact reason why you should invite her out. Give her a chance to get fucked up. Spend the night with one of the bachelors. It’s the quintessential wedding experience.

Frankie couldn’t have even pretended to mask his disgust at the idea. But he couldn’t lie…bringing you along again sounded leagues above going alone.

And now, sometimes he wished he had toughed it out instead.

No matter how much he tried to forget, the details always flashed through his mind. The way your fingers ran through his hair. How your touch managed to stay so soft despite how completely out of it you were. But that’s how you’d always been with him. Even at his absolute worst points when he was a less than ideal man, you found some shred of decency inside him that you never hesitated to cradle and nurture.

Maybe that’s what had made those tangles form in his stomach; the idea that he was taking advantage of that kindness.

Because that wasn’t…you. You wouldn’t have done that in your right mind. If your boyfriend hadn’t just broken up with you. If you hadn’t just found out that the entire time Nick had been cheating on you with that woman from accounting in his office. If you hadn’t drank way too much. None of this would be happening if you weren’t at your absolute lowest.

So he wiped the slate clean. It’d almost always been easy to do that. To simply forget. But he should’ve known better by now. Those things he somehow managed to lock up always found a way to ooze out of the cracks in his facade.

There were a few times Frankie thought you might crack during the ceremony. Especially when Will read out his vows, because of course the guy went the extra mile, delivering them with that stern reverence that made him the kind of guy you wanted on your team.

But you didn’t cry. This time…you grabbed his hand. It almost didn’t occur to him that you had until Will kissed his now wife and you squeezed Frankie’s hand in excitement. For a moment, he wondered if you’d managed to get a drink in before the ceremony. You couldn’t have; the bar wasn’t supposed to open until afterwards. He knew it couldn’t have been an alcohol induced action but he was still afraid to acknowledge it.

So he kept as still as possible. Even when the ceremony ended and you began to pull him around the venue. Though he knew his hand was getting clammier with every minute that passed, he let you drag him around the little circles of friends and family of the bride and groom. He had checked out enough that he didn’t quite realize what he’d gotten himself into until you were bringing him to the dance floor and positioning his hands on your hips.

Only when you let go of his hand and placed your own on his shoulders did it strike him how similar this felt to that night at Benny’s wedding.

You spoke like you were treading thin ice. “That speech was…surprisingly alright.”

“And you didn’t cry,” he remarked equally as carefully.

“I didn’t cry!” you exclaimed.

“It would’ve been fine if you had.”

You shook your head, “That wasn’t the kind of speech you cry at. It was simple. Sweet. I liked it. Who would’ve thought Benny’d have it in him, right?”

“So what do you do for that kind of speech?” Frankie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“A polite clap. Maybe a cheer.”

“A cheer? Maybe you should’ve brought your pom poms instead of tissues.”

The way you scrunched up your nose into a playful grimace tugged at his heartstrings. Then you laughed, “Shut up.” God, he loved when you and him fell into this groove.

So he continued with the bit, “You should get some for Tom’s wedding. The guy deserves a whole damn squad if he gets all tied up again.”

“Thought you said I shouldn’t count on it?”

“If you’re gonna count on anyone getting married soon, it’s better if it was him.” Frankie clicked his tongue, “Not like I’m going off the market anytime soon.”

“Oh, Frankie, stop it.” Your smile dropped ever so slightly, eyebrows turned inward as you gazed at him with something akin to pity or sympathy; he wasn’t sure which was worse. “You have no idea what the future could bring.”

“Not a wedding, that’s for damn sure.”

Your expression only intensified. He recognized it well after the amount of times you’d talked him off a ledge. “You can’t just discount the possibility entirely,” you argued.

“I can and I will,” he said stubbornly.

You were quiet for a few seconds, “So you’re telling me you’ve never thought about it? I mean…who would your best man be?”

“I’m not answering that.”

Your lip quirks to the side of your face as you feign a contemplative look before concluding, “Probably Santi.”

“Look at you, you did it for me,” Frankie deadpanned.

“I could plan the whole damn thing for you, don’t test me.”

“Why’s that?”

This time you pressed your lips together. And Frankie swears he felt you stumble over your own feet ever so slightly; like he’d caught you off guard with the query. “Oh, you know…weddings usually aren’t those things that people are eager to plan.”

“But why would you specifically be planning it? Unless you’re–”

A beat passes before you break out into an incredulous grin. “You’d want me to marry you and plan our wedding? That’s a tall order. I’m afraid you’ll have to pick one or the other, sorry.”

Frankie chuckles. He let the remark pass. He always enjoyed this back and forth. How you and him had always been able to bounce off of each other. It was hard enough keeping up with some of the guys. But keeping up with women was a whole different story. He always seemed to be a few steps behind most of them. For some reason, your pace was just perfect. Your humor, your timing, it all clicked with his personality.

Just like you were prone to doing, you broke the silence with an awkward laugh and big eyes staring right into his. “So…which one do you pick?”

He almost didn’t catch the question; almost didn’t want to. “Hm?”

“Would you rather marry me or have me plan your wedding?” you clarify.

“Come on, you know I’m not answering that.”

And the tide shifted once more. Just as quick as you were to smile, your expression melted into one of muted mortification. Like you’d just tilted your hand a little too far

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled to yourself. Your hands slid off his shoulders and you wiped them off on your dress before wrapping them around yourself. That was when you retreated, leaving him standing there looking like more of a fool than he ever thought he had.

He stared after you for a few seconds, struggling to process what had just happened when it finally registered.

Soon he was following after you. How you knew to navigate the venue so quickly, he couldn’t be bothered to wonder. All he knew by the time he got to the lobby of the wedding hall was that something was wrong.

He spotted you rushing down the sidewalk as he stepped outside. In all his exasperation, all he could get out was, “Hey, what the fuck?”

The cool night air of the fall settled in and billowed around him like a curse. He wasn’t quite sure if the deep chill that ran down his spine was from the weather or the sight of you turning around, eyes already wet with tears that you were desperately trying to blink away.

Your voice came out hoarse as you shouted back, “You’re asking me what the fuck? No, Frankie, what the fuck is up with you? I kissed you…God…how many months ago? And you don’t say a fucking word. I keep talking about Benny’s wedding and you keep acting like none of it fucking happened.”

Frankie threw his hands up. “You were drunk. I don’t even remember how many fucking drinks you had.”

“I had a couple virgin cocktails,” you scoffed. The admittance wasn’t stubborn. But it did come with a tone of disdain, “I wasn’t drunk.”

“You wouldn’t–” he stopped himself. You wouldn’t have done any of that unless you were drunk.

“You acted like you were drunk.”

You shook your head. “I was having fun. I was with you and I was having fun, you dumbass.” Then you sighed, gaze darting towards the street nervously. “And I woke up the morning after and I thought that…I thought you would’ve at least said something. I thought you would’ve asked me how I felt. I thought you would’ve had the decency to at least check in. But you were just…you were completely fine.”

“I wasn’t fine…”

“And now you want to crack jokes about marrying me?”

Frankie wagged a finger in your direction, an almost childish defense. “You brought that shit up first.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Frankie, that doesn’t matter,” you muttered before raising your voice once more. “What matters is that I kissed you. I looked into your eyes and told you I fucking loved you and you said nothing.”

Hearing your voice say it again, even filled with such frustration, such anguish, he could help the way something fluttered in his chest. And even still, he shoved it down deeper than he ever had before.

“Because I wasn’t going to hurt you the way that Nick did.” He watched your gaze soften. “It would’ve killed me to hurt you like that.”

With the sounds of the city passing you both by, Frankie caught one of the worst sights possible. The tear that rolled down your cheek. And then the few more that followed, all shamelessly continuing their desolate stride down your neck. How you unclenched your jaw and unfolded all of the pain you’d kept since that summer into a few words. “You hurt me worse than Nick ever did.”

Your whole being compacted in on itself once more, recoiling from the vulnerable admission with a breathless conclusion. “Fuck you, Frankie. Fuck you.”

There it all was. And all he could think about was that night at Benny’s wedding. The night you told him you were glad Nick was gone. The night you smiled softly at him, thumb running over his bottom lip as you whispered.

I love you.

They were such fragile words. Words he hadn’t wanted to put any weight on, lest they shatter from beneath him and leave him falling face down in his own hopes. Because a small part of him had almost always hoped it was you. He never let himself truly believe the idea for long. But, God, he wanted to…could he still? He squeezed his eyes shut, holding back his own tears.

“I’m sorry.” His voice trembled in time with his hands. And he’d fully come to terms that it wasn’t just the cool air. He wasn’t a stranger to fearing for his life, with the work he’d once done, it was a given. But this wasn’t that. This was different. It was a fear of something a little more abstract. Because following this risk, there wouldn’t be oblivion. On the other side of his eyelids was a world where you either forgave him or you brushed him away. He certainly believed he deserved the latter with the way he’d been. But he’d never know unless he took the plunge.

When he opened his eyes again again he was grateful to find you still standing in front of him. He wouldn’t let this night steal his courage again. He repeated, voice firmer than before and charged with certainty, “I’m sorry.” Then finally replied, “I love you too. I love you.”

You gave him those hope filled eyes once more. He saw how it slowly morphed into joy; the kind that carried peace. You stepped closer, fingertips brushing against the material of his jacket as you reached for him.

Frankie closed the gap without any hesitation, his own hand moving to cradle your face as he moved in to kiss you. None of his recollections of the first time he’d done it could’ve ever lived up to the second one. There was no dread, no looming guilt, no fear. Only excitement and hope.

“If I could only pick one. I’d marry you. Any day…I’d marry you,” he mumbled against your lips.

You pulled back. And with his eyes still closed, he felt you smile as you answered, “Maybe I’ll ask you again next year. For now, let’s have this.”

“I can handle that,” he smiled then melted into you once more. And already it was something he knew he could easily get used to. Next time you asked, he’d be ready.

#˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚#spacesisterssecretvalentine #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fic

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aewinty · 8 months

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The way you heal me

Wednesday Addams x fem reader

Playlist

Part 1

You stormed out of Wednesday and Enid’s dorm, footsteps leaving a trail of desolation in his wake. If your tears weren’t flowing before, they definitely were now. You swung open the door to your dorm, quietly hoping your room safe wasn’t around to see you in your current state. Your request was fulfilled as she was nowhere in sight.

Flinging yourself on your bed was a bad idea - Wednesday’s scent still lingered on the sheets from the night before; a thought that urged more tears to spill. A quiet knock resounded from the door; one in which you ignored. If they really needed you they could send you a voice message on your phone. But they never left - the knocks persisted as you attempted to block out the noise with music in the background.

Grumbling, you stood up and pulled the door open to reveal Enid Sinclair. She gave you a look of pity when she saw your disheveled state before asking “can I come in?”. Wordlessly nodding, you opened the door a bit wider so she could slip in. You sat back down at your bed, hearing the door click before the soft padding of socks came towards you. You were grateful Enid sat right next to you as you opted to lean your head on her shoulder.

A couple of deafening minutes passed before Enid spoke up “Sooo.. what happened back there?”.

She could feel you physically stiffen before groaning. You picked at the skin near your fingernails, not feeling the need to answer her question at the moment.

“You don’t have to tell me Y/n; whatever you feel comfortable with saying is fine.”

You stayed quiet for a bit before speaking up, voice rasping as you did so. “I was just trying to get her to take a break Enid.”

“I understand that Y/n; Wednesday can always be a little stubborn.”

“She said it like I was pathetic for caring about her health.”You spat out the word while grimacing.

Enid sighed, grabbing your arm to make you look at her. “Listen, Wednesday doesn’t think you’re pathetic and you should be the first person to know so. I’ve seen the way she looks at you - like you’re the star of the world. So, instead of subjecting yourself to these deteriorating thoughts, how about we talk about how she shows she loves you?”

You seemed to contemplate her idea prior to obliging.

“She does this thing when I’m upset with something - like she kisses my ring finger to comfort me I don’t know how to explain”

“Great! So how does that make you feel?”

“Like I’m the only one she looks at” You say, cringing at your words.

“Because you are she only looks at you and when you enter, she stares at you like you’re the only one in the world. It’s kinda creepy to be honest..”

“Enid she also looks at you, Yoko and Bianca I’m not the only person she knows.”

“Okay but I swear she looks at you differently like I’m being real here she looks at everyone else the same but with you it’s not the same. And you’re her girlfriend for crying out loud!”

You chuckle a bit before frowning right after. “Then why did she..”

“Y/n it could be from the stress, the pressure, or even in the spur of the moment! I don’t know, but I definitely know that she didn’t mean it. Wednesday would never say that without a reason. She even tells me you’re the love of her life; the one that keeps her going. But enough of that - how else do you know she loves you?

“Well she also calls me Y/n/n but don’t tell her cause she will get mad..”

The night was full of laughter with a few breakdowns before turning right back up with the faint music playing from the disc in your room.

—

When you woke up Enid was nowhere to be found. You laid in bed, staring at the ceiling for a few solid minutes bracing yourself for the pounding headache you had.

Not feeling up for classes, you sent your friends a quick text telling them to tell the teacher that you would be absent. Finding yourself unable to lull yourself back to sleep, you settled for a cup of coffee and a random romcom you and Wednesday would never live in.

—

Wednesday’s book thudded on the table while she sat down in her seat beside Xavier.

“What has you so worked up??” He said while staring at Wednesday.

“Nothing that concerns you.” Wednesday responded, eyes never peeling from the door.

“Erm..okay” he said, diverting his attention away.

Wednesday’s eyes stared at the door in hopes of you to turn up.

Yoko came in

Then Bianca

Then Enid

Then Ms. Thornhill

Maybe you were just late? She thought

But you never showed up - you didn’t even attend your club with Eugene where you two would crack random bee jokes.

“Where’s Y/n?” Wednesday asked Enid.

“Probably at her dorm sobbing her eyes out because of something YOU blew up at her for.” Enid snapped at her

“I didn’t mean to hurt her”

“I had to stay with her all night while she cried her eyes out thinking you hated her for caring about you.”

Wednesday paused for a moment. “Is she okay?” She asked in an unusually quiet voice.

“I don’t know Wednesday you should ask her not me. Look, I know you don’t hate her but you have to apologize because right now she fully believed you loath her so you have to clear that up with Y/n - not me.”

Wednesday gave Enid a silent nod before pulling on her shoes to rush towards your dorm.

—

Your roommate shot Wednesday a weird glance when she entered your dorm room. “What are you doing here?”

With a quick glance, Wednesday could tell you weren’t there so she had no choice but to converse with your roommate. “Do you know where Y/n is?”

“Umm can you tell me why you are here first?”

“No.”

“Then no I don’t know where Y/n is.”

“Tell me”

“No.”

“Okay. Fine. I need to apologize to her for something.”

“THE Wednesday Addams apologizing? Never would’ve guessed.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes before asking “Can you tell me where she is now?”

“She’s right there” Your roommate said while pointing at the door Wednesday came in a few seconds prior.

Sure enough, you were standing there, eyes narrowed at Wednesday.

“Hey..?” You said slowly setting your drink down on your desk. You shot your roommate a look telling her to get out, which she did at that.

Wednesday watched you sit down at your bed, eyes staring intently at you.

“So..” You started

“I would like to apologize.”

“Oh.”

“I apologize. Can you forgive me?”

Knowing Wednesday had trouble expressing her emotions, you pushed on.

“Can you tell me why you’re apologizing?”

“I apologize for implying you were a burden to me.”

“And?”

“And I apologize for spouting that you weren’t able to assist me. I understand you care for my mental stability and insinuating that you would oppress me in the future was discourteous. Although I previously inferred you wouldn’t be a big presence in my future, I would like to retract those words. These past few hours have been displeasing without you - something I would normally crave for, but without you, that feeling is nothing to me.”

“Do you know how that made me feel?”

Wednesday grimaced. “It made you feel unhappy.”

“Not only did it make me feel unhappy Wednesday. It made me feel inferior. I understand that the Hyde case puts a lot of pressure on you but you can’t take that out on me. I’m similar to you. I get frustrated. I get stressed, but I don’t take it out on other people especially you. In the future, if you are uncomfortable with what I’m doing, you can just tell me and I will stop. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me.”

“It’s not that you made me uncomfortable. I presume the stress buildup caused me to lose my temper. For that, I apologize.”

“Wednesday you don’t have to apologize. Feeling stress is normal and you unconsciously get it. I understand that you didn’t know how to relieve it.”

Wednesday just gave you a ridged nod at that.

“Wednesday come here.”

She strides towards you until she stood in-front of you. You pulled her down into an embrace. Wednesday’s hands hung stiffly around your torso but not quite touching it. You chuckled at that.

“You know you can touch me I’m your girlfriend.”

At that, her hands rested at your waist. Your head buried itself into her neck, leaving a chaste kiss on the skin there. You pulled back, hands still intertwined behind her neck.

“I love you. Do you know that?”

“Yes.”

You pulled her chin towards you, giving her a quick peck on her lips.

“Say it back Wends”

“I love you too.” Wednesday muttered, pale cheeks growing into a dark red color.

You smiled, pulling her back into a heart searing kiss, sealing the emotions drawn from today behind you as a memory of strengthening your relationship.

A/n

Woo part two to The way you hurt me!! How did you like it?? Honestly idk if I do the comforting//apologizing part correctly/well bc I’m not really good with apologizing either. I also hope I portrayed each character accurately

If there are any mistakes in my writing please msg me or cmt it down - this is not reread at all

Always happy for constructive criticism!

Again thank you for reading and thank you for the notes on my last post!

#wednsday addams #jenna ortega #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday #fem reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #enid sinclair #emma myers #female #female reader #x you #jenna x reader

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thelonelyempath · 1 year

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M!Crush x F!Reader: Stressed Out

THEME: Fluff, teensy bit of Angst

WARNING(s): Fainting, Medical Scare

"Hey, beautiful." your boyfriend greeted you as you walked into the bedroom. "Oh, baby, you don't look too good. You okay?"

He noted how little energy you had when you set your stuff down. Your hair was flat. Your eyes were sunken in. You'd been extremely stressed about a lot of things and the stress was making you physically ill.

"Yeah I'm fine."

"Babe," C/N walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you. "don't lie to me. I'm not trying to sound like an asshole, but you're looking rough. Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Yeah I'm just stressed." you said nonchalantly.

"Aw I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

You really didn't. You didn't have the energy to talk about anything right now. You simply shook your head before resting it on your boyfriend's chest.

"Alright..." he put a kiss on your forehead. "but remember I'll be here to listen when you're ready to talk about it."

"Mhm."

C/N holding you felt great, but you were starting to feel a little woozy. It felt like the room was spinning. Your feet were starting to feel like they couldn't support your legs. Then everything went black.

Crush's POV

"Shit!" I yelled as I felt her go limp in my arms. "Baby? Baby, can you hear me?"

She was unresponsive. In a panic I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to the bedroom. I set her down on the bed. I put a pillow under her feet to keep them elevated.

"Come on, Y/N..." I softly pleaded, feeling a tear well up in my eye. "Wake up...please..."

I knew she had been stressed about work, but I didn't think she was stressed enough to pass out on me. I took her hand in mine and gently squeezed it. For good measure, I checked her wrist for a pulse. Luckily I was able to find it. A few minutes later, I saw her eyes flicker open. Thank god for that.

Your POV

You were confused. You didn't know what in the world just happened. C/N was holding your hand, a relieved smile plastered across his face.

"Hey, baby." he softly said. "You just fainted."

He handed you his water bottle, prompting you to drink from it. You did so, your mind slowly coming to with your body.

"You gave me quite the scare, my love." he gently caressed your cheek with his other hand. "When I felt you go limp, I honestly thought the worst. I thought you were gone. You have no idea how happy I am that you're okay."

He raised your hand up to his lips and sweetly kissed the back of it. He helped you to sit up. You felt kind of guilty about scaring him. The poor man thought he had lost you.

"I'm sorry." you weakly apologized. "I didn't mean-"

"No." he cut you off. "None of that. Don't you dare be sorry. Sweetheart, this is not your fault. Work clearly has you stressed out of your skull. Let's just relax tonight. We can watch a movie and cuddle on the couch. Maybe while we're cuddling you can tell me all about what's got you so stressed out. Does that sound good?"

You nodded. God, he was so sweet to you.

"Okay." he paused to kiss you. "Let me take care of you tonight. I love you."

"I love you too."

#boyfriend imagine #boyfriend x reader #crush imagine #crush x reader #m!crush x f!reader #fainting #tw: fainting #stressed reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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Same as it ever was 12

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as neglect, bullying, manipulation, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Between your home life and work, you just can’t catch a break. Especially after you draw the ire of your boss.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen ft. Pete Brenner

Note: just having a bit of a break with some messiness.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“Mom, you have to sit down,” Simone nags as you pace, clutching your lower back as you chew your thumb.

You haven’t been able to sit still. Not since Hansen and Pete disappeared into his ‘office’, rather, the garage. You stop and look at your daughter as she holds her book closed on her lap. She hasn’t opened it all night. Her concern plummets in your stomach.

“Sorry, I–”

“I put your cushion on the couch,” she says and points to the sofa where she’s stacked the two pillows against the arm.

“Aw, you’re so sweet, honey,” you go to the couch and stare at the donut cushion. You brace the back and slowly angle yourself down. The tension eases enough for you to sigh.

“What about the medicine the doctor gave you?” She asks.

“After dinner,” you hiss as you try to get comfortable, “can’t have them on an empty stomach.

“Mommy,” Malik pops his head up from scribbling with his crayons, “I’ll go get Donny!”

“Mal–”

He’s already running from the room before you can stop him. You put your hand to your forehead and repress a sob. It’s not just the agony at the crux of your spine, it’s everything. It’s the stress pulsing in your head like a maelstrom. Hansen has wholly and completely invaded your life.

Maiik returns and shoves the stuffed dragon onto your lap. You thank him and kiss his forehead before you send him back to his drawing table. Simone sits with her jaw locked, staring at the wall as if she can see through it.

“Sim, what’s going on?” You ask.

“Why did you let him come in?” She hisses.

You sigh, “Simone, I tried–”

“He’s a weirdo. And he’s mean to you.”

You chew your lip, “he’s my boss.”

“So he should boss you around at work. He shouldn’t follow you home.”

“I know, okay, honey. He’s just… He’s interested in your dad’s work.”

“Sure,” she rolls her eyes. “Mom,” she takes a breath and waits for you to nod before she continues, “how did you fall?”

You hesitate and rub your neck. You’re so tired. Not just physically. You’re tired of lying and bending over backwards for everyone. You just want to close your eyes and stop thinking.

“I was taking a shower and I slipped,” you tell her the basic truth.

“Oh,” she gives a thoughtful grimace, “well…”

“It’s a good reminder to be careful,” you say. “I’ll be fine. I’ll get some x-rays done and you’ll see it’s nothing.”

Simone's face pinches as if she wants to argue more but thinks better of it. She opens her book as she leans back but keeps her gaze on the wall. She's a reflection of your own anxiety as she fidgets.

You try to relax as your tailbone radiates again and your back locks up. You just have to make it through the night. And the next and the next.

The doorbell rings and jars you just as your lashes droop. Simone jumps up, snapping her book shut. You frown and let out a whimper.

"Sim?" You murmur.

"I'll get it," she nods and throws her book on the cushion.

She sprints off to the entryway as Malik looks over curiously. You listen to the brief exchange, your daughter greeting the visitor and the crinkle of paper. As the savoury aroma wafts in, you realise it's just the food.

"Simone, you need help?" You call through a grunt as you try to sit up.

"Mom, don't move," she hollers back. "Mal, get over here."

Your son jumps up and races out to help her. You huff and recline once more. Even your stubbornness can't get you off that couch now.

You hear the garage door and peer over as Pete's laughter floats in the air. You sigh. Of course they get along. Why wouldn't they? The stars always align to fuck you over.

"I smell something delicious," your husband chimes as he appears in the archway, rubbing his stomach.

Your own grumbles as a pang of resent claws in your chest. You stare at his shirt and how it hangs slack over his hard stomach. He has time to work off his carbs, you just sit in an office and pile on the pounds.

"You'll love this place," Hansen calls from behind him as the kids carry the bags in from the door, Malik struggling under the weight of his armful.

"Pete," you snap and point to the wobbling six year old.

"Oh," his eyes round and he quickly lifts the heavy paper bag from his son, "sorry."

"Hey," Malik pipes up, "I'm strong enough."

"Mal, you don't wanna drop it," you gird and shift again, your tailbone throbbing. "Ah..."

"Honey, you okay?" Pete asks as he takes another bag from Simone, leaving her only one.

"Fine," you growl.

He gives a sheepish smile and beckons the kids into the kitchen, "come on, go sit at the table and give your mother a break."

"Save room for dessert," Hansen adds.

You roll your eyes as you hear Simone grumble something unintelligible. God, is she ever your daughter. You don't even try to get up. You don't like being helpless but if you don't relax, it will only get worse.

You listen to the noise from the kitchen. Pete rearing the children to the table as cupboards opening and closing and porcelain and cutlery clink together. Your skin crawls at the thought of Hansen going through your things.

You know what this is. He's intruding and making sure you know it. He doesn't just have an iron grip around your existence in the office, he's pawing at your home life like a greedy dog.

He enters and brings you a plate. You sit up with an effort and he smirks as he holds out the medley of sides and plank of steak. You accept it with a grumbled thanks.

"You take it easy, sweetheart," he pets your head as he bends over you, "we need you in tiptop shape so you can get back to work."

You grimace but don't say a word. He lets his fingertips tick along your cheek and you jerk away, squeaking with the jolt of pain across your back. You grit your teeth and grab the fork and knife.

"Eat up," he winks as he pulls away, strutting back into the kitchen.

You shake your head and look down at the plate. As much as you'd love to smash it in his face, you're starving and you need something to pad your stomach before you take those painkillers. You don't need to be nauseous on top of everything else.

You scoop up the whipped potatoes, the fleck of chive and garlicky smell makes your mouth water. They taste just as good as they smell. You can only imagine how much he spent on a meal for five. A debt you'll no doubt pay back.

"Honey," Pete enters, "can I get you a drink? Some wine?"

"Water," you say tersely.

"Yes, dear."

He goes back into the kitchen and you listen to him puttering around. He just annoys you by being there. Even his help is a nuisance. He comes back with a tall glass of water and sets it on the low coffee table before dragging it closer so you can reach. He leans over to peck your temple.

"Love you," he utters tremulously. You look at him. He winces and his cheeks dimple with a strained smile, "I'm trying," he croaks.

You say nothing and focus on cutting into the steak, your knife hitting the plate harshly. He stand and takes a step back.

"Your boss really likes my ideas. I think he's going to invest--"

"Would you go look after the kids?" You hiss, "please?"

"I..."

"Thank you for the water," you snip.

He backs away and apologises. It irritates you how he makes himself so pathetic. As if he's the victim in all this. He slept with that young intern, he dropped you in the shower, and you're paying the price for all of it. Say what you will about Hansen but you didn't jump into his arms. You're just trying to take care of your family. Something Pete's never even considered.

You chew angrily, sinking into the bitterness. This is just great. You're crippled and stuck here with two idiots. On top of that, your kids have to sit there with those creeps. Ugh. You will do better, you have to.

You eat in silence, hearing the chatter from the dining room. The kids don't say much as Pete and Hansen continue their conversation about stocks and rates and all that pompous bullshit. Your husband doesn't really seem to get it since his company makes absolutely no money, they very reason your boss can't wait to shove his hand down your pants at every fucking opportunity.

Where are those goddamn pills? As much as you need the damn pain to stop, you need to stop thinking. You're only making it all worse. Your purse is by the door. Too far.

You huff and keep eating. After. The food distracts enough from the agony.

You clear your plate and set it aside with effort. You wash down the remnants with a gulp of water and ease back onto the pillows. As you sigh, footsteps interrupt your peace.

"Ready for something sweet?" Hansen taunts.

Your eyes flutter open and you turn your head to him.

"I got some cheesecake," he takes your plate off the coffee table, staying bent as he lowers his voice, "but if you're thinking of something sweeter, we could figure something out."

You sneer and he snickers as he stands straight. He shamelessly adjusts himself through his pants, concealing his growing arousal under his belt. He clears his throat and walks away.

"Pete, the wife likes extra cream on hers," he declares as he enters the kitchen.

Your stomach flips. He is disgusting. You cross your arms and scowl at the window. Just dessert and then he can leave.

Hansen returns with a slice of chocolate cake, a healthy dollop of whipped cream on top. He offers the small plate and you accept it wordlessly. He watches as you cut through the tip with your fork.

"Get some of that cream," he hums and squeezes your shoulder.

"What the hell are you doing?" You snarl under your breath.

"Just wanna see you have a bite," he purrs, "you're so good at swallowing it all down--"

"Enough," you puff out, mortified as you peer over your shoulder.

"Chill," he raps his knuckles against your shoulder, "you need to take the edge off. Did the doctor give you the good dope?"

You sniff and turn your attention to the cheese cake. You hover the small portion on the fork and hesitate. You don't need the sugar. You look down at your stomach and rest the plate on your lap.

"Well? Did you take anything for your broken ass or not?" He scoffs.

"In my purse," you snip and scoop up the cheesecake, stuffing it in your mouth before you can call him a douche bag.

He looks around and wanders out to the entry way. He returns with your purse and fishes around in it. You glare at him as he does. He takes out the pill bottle and rattles it before he reads the label.

"Take two with food," he says, "how convenient, you're eating right now."

"And I got a big pain in my ass," you retort.

He laughs and uncaps the bottle, nearing as he offers you two pills. You take one for now and rest the plate in your lap. You reach for the glass of water and he wiggles his hand.

"Bottle says two," he insists.

"I'm fine. I got kids to take care of."

"Your husband's got a hold on all that, go on," he shoves his hand in front of your face, "really, you keep that stick up your ass and you're gonna stay like that."

You sniff and swipe the other tablet from his hand. You shove both in your mouth and drain half the glass. You smile at him and slam the cup down on the table.

"You're right," you snort, "it'll make putting up with you a whole lot easier."

"That's the spirit, sweetheart," he says, "think I'll just wait for my dessert..."

He turns and strides away. You mull over his ominous statement, not quite sure what he means. Knowing him, you should be worried but he's the least of your troubles at the moment.

🗄️

You feel lighter than you have in years. The medicated fog has you bleary and relaxed. You haven't felt this carefree in... ever? You sink into your own body, caught in a muted daze. You're vaguely aware of the room but unconcerned by the activity all around you.

"Kids," Pete says in exasperation, "jeez, must've had too much sugar."

"My bad," Hansen quips as sways his leg before him. The motion catches your eye and you peer over, hypnotised by the movement.

"It's his bath time," Simone says.

"Is it?" Pete pushes back his floppy hair and catches Malik as he runs in circles.

"Yep," Simone says dully. "He goes at seven, I go after him."

"Oh," your brainless husband utters.

"Think you're on duty, Petey Boy," Hansen muses, his hand kneading his own thigh, "old lady's in rough shape."

"Mom?" Simone approaches, hugging her book to her chest, "can you please tell him to go away?"

You just babble and smile, reaching out to touch her hair, "I love you, sweetie."

"Must be some strong... stuff the doc prescribed," Hansen scoffs.

"Why don't you go read in your room?" You pat her shoulder, "you always love reading."

She frowns and sways to look at the man in the armchair, watching with an amused grin. Hansen's a bit less sinister in the haze of your sedation. His mustache looks fuzzier than usual.

"I should stay--"

"Come on, Sim," Pete hikes Malik over his shoulder, "let's go. I might need help with your brother."

"Ugh," Simone huffs and drops her shoulders, "dad, can't you do it on your own?"

"You heard your mother, go to your room."

"I'll keep an eye on the old lady. Just in case she needs anything," Hansen intones, "I had an old injury in college. I took a few painkillers and thought I was new again. Ended up hurting myself all over again."

"Good idea," Pete agrees as Malik writhes in his grasp, "kids."

He snaps his fingers and your son still as your daughter tramps after him, sending one last glare towards Hansen. You turn your head straight and blow a raspberry. You're free, no pain, no worries, no feelings.

You listen to the racket of Pete's ascent and the bickering of the children. You giggle at the chaos. For once, it's not you.

You twitch as you feel a tickle along your arm. Hansen hushes you and winks as he lowers himself to one knee beside the couch. You hadn't noticed him move. You peer over at the chair and back to him. You sneer and reach to tug the short hair above his lip, wanting to rip it off. He wouldn't look so stupid without it.

"Hey, what--"

"Like a little caterpillar..." you slur.

"Alright, sweetheart," she pushes your hand away, "let's just... take it easy."

He puts his hand on your thigh and you look down at it. You furrow your brow as he squeezes before slowly dragging his palm up to your stomach. You grab him and try weakly to push him away.

"What are you doing?" You hiss.

"Shhhh," he presses his other index to his lips, "you don't want the family to hear, do you?" He angles around and turns his hand, sliding it beneath the elastic top of your pants, "mommy's having her me-time."

"Please..." you gasp as he shoves his hand down your panties. You clench your thighs together but he forces two fingers between your lips. You choke and swiftly hooks his other arm behind your hand, smothering your mouth with his palm.

"Now, now, you're going to scar those kids if they walk down here and see you zonked out and riding my fingers," he snarls, "so lay back and enjoy, sweet cheeks."

He rubs you and hot breath steams out from your nose, your murmurs muted by his grasp. You know he should stop, you should want him to stop, but you don't. Your eyes roll back as he rubs your clit, teasing you as he flicks and rolls. Your legs fall apart and your head lolls against his arm.

"That's it," he keeps his fingers moving, "you know, the whole mom thing is starting to get me." He keeps betting you, rubbing harder and faster with each swirl, "yeah, I feel you shaking for it too..."

You pant over his knuckles as he slips his hand further, curling his fingers inside of you as he pushes the heel of his hand to your bud. He jerks his arm, fucking you until you squelch around him. The noise alone adds to your slickness and tips you over the edge. You spasm in the tide of an orgasm as it cuts through the numbness.

"Mmmm," he purrs and slides his fingers free. He drags his hand out of your pants and shows you the gleam of your cum on his fingers. He smirks and shoves them into his mouth. He sucks them clean and stands, his pants bulging. "Delicious."

A thump comes from above and Pete hollers, "Malik, get back here."

There's a short chase down the hallway, bare slapping feet, and a grunt. You blink and shake your head. Hansen looms over you and snickers.

"Look at daddy doing all the work while mommy's having fun," he grabs your chin and bends over you, "I clocked that guy the minute I saw him, I can tell by the way you soaked your panties he's not fucking you worth a damn." He lets his hand fall to your throat and exhales hotly, "don't you worry. Once you're back on your feet, I'll have you on your back. Or maybe ass up.”

#lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #pete brenner #dark pete brenner #dark!pete brenner #pete brenner x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #multifandom #the gray man #pain hustlers #same as it ever was

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catboybiologist · 17 days

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March 2024 documentation and transition journal

Just got my levels results back, meaning that the doc is fully updated for March:

This is possibly one of the most exciting and interesting months of HRT since starting, because I've experimented around a lot with injection doses, so let's talk about that! I'm also slapping a couple of old pics in here for reference, so I'll slap some selfie tags on this.

So, lots of interesting HRT stuff. At my last levels check, I was on 4mg injectable EV a week. And… my E actually went down, even though that’s an effectively higher dose than my previous regimen (6mg sublingual/day). Because of this, I talked with my provider, and essentially she told me to fuck around. I probably was way looser with it than she wanted me to be, but she told me to go to 8mg/week maximum, and try and settle on 6mg/week minimum. So….. here’s what I did.

1 week of 8mg.

2 weeks at 7mg.

2 weeks 6mg, during which my levels were checked at mid.

I… can’t really advocate for this. Basically, my logic was that I wanted to see what it felt like to max things out, but have my actual levels check reflect what I’m like at 6mg to know if increasing or maximizing the dose beyond that is necessary at all. Ultimately, I’ve concluded that 8mg feels too high- I start getting a bit of headache and nausea at peak. 7mg feels very comfortable. 6mg, I felt fucking miserable at trough. When I was on 4mg/week, I used a couple of sublingual pills to try and get through that, but I tried to see if I could stop doing that. It went okay for the higher doses, but on 6mg… ugh. Felt like complete shit. I’ll def be using a couple this week to get through that, probably just 4-6mg sublingual on wed/thurs to make sure I’m feeling okay.

Oh. Also. I ditched Spironolactone, against the advice of my provider.

I was getting really, REALLY irritated by the diuretic effects, so I quit it when I tried to 8mg dose just to see what would happen. I figured that 8mg would be more than enough to suppress T on its own (likely true), and so I thought it would be the best time to try that. And… when I stopped spiro, a depressive haze that had been in my head lifted very quickly. I thought it was just depression based on a rough past couple of months, and that’s probably true, but it also felt physical. The diuretic effects have also stopped, and I genuinely can’t imagine going back on spiro.

I’ve heard a lot of theoretical stuff about spiro potentially being able to inhibit growth and development. It's possibly a growth hormone inhibitor, but should be a more potent antiandrogen than anyone else. It’s…. Really hard to say whether spiro actually inhibits growth. As with a lot of transfemme physical developments, there’s never been a comprehensive, conclusive study on it, which is why its relegated to miscellaneous anecdotes that everyone will swear one way or the other on. I’ll have some opinions on this later.

So what improvement to my levels did I get out of all of this?

Well…. Good, but nothing radical. My midcycle estrogen is 159 pg/mL, which is about my target for trough. It’s a good step up from the 4mg dose, but I’m probably going to increase to 7mg/week- that felt fine to me, and I’m pretty confident that that’ll be the dose that nails it. I’m pretty deadset on going forward with that, I would just need a levels check to verify we’re all good there. (Side note, I’m a bit frustrated that my body literally seems allergic to just… stuff. Idk if I have an overactive liver or what, but my T crashed super easily, adderall consistently lasts shorter than it should, and my E is really struggling to go up.)

And did this result in any physical improvement?

I actually think that this last month has been the single fastest month of physical development I’ve ever had. Here’s some things I’ve noticed:

My breasts have become much larger and more developed in relation to my chest, with a much better shape. Comparison pictures to even just the end of January show a wild difference (sorry, not posting that publicly). To be fair, though, I’m still pretty clearly in tanner 2, and I maybe want to wait for just a bit more development before I start progesterone.

Waist measurement is still going down, and hip measurement is still holding steady. This means that, in effect, my hips are getting wider.

And this is one of the most exciting ones- my upper body seems like its getting smaller. I’m floored by this. My underbust is less, my chest looks noticeably less barrel-y, and my ribcage kind of “flows” into my waist better. I wrote a bit about this on reddit just now, but I think I know what’s happening here. Not only is fat burning from the sides of my chest as it builds on the front of my chest, I actually think my costal cartilage might be getting “tighter”, effectively pulling my ribs a bit closer in to my sternum

I have…. No way to confirm the hunches of that last one, other than the images I can show. So for educational purposes (and y’know. Making the funny women in my phone type funny syllables) Here’s a quick timeline where I think you can see the “barrellness” of my chest decreasing:

From left to right, we have September (0-1mo), December (3-4mo), March (6-7mo)

Don't worry, my shoulders are just as wide and athletic dyke-y.

Am I delusional? Is this anything? Maybe. Pictures are hard to make consistent with changes this small. But I do feel like its noticeable, and it seems like women’s cut shirts and tanks have fit me in a way that’s a lot more consistent with a cis woman’s body. Again, there’s also nsfw images, and I think they show a lot of progress, and I think I can pretty definitively say that this has been the single month with the most physical changes since, well, my first month back in September.

Why did this happen? Well, I’m working with a sample size of one here, and multiple variables have changed at the same time. There’s really three things that could be happening: increased injection dosage, ditching spiro, or the general come and go of physical changes. It’s impossible to completely know what’s going on because of this, unfortunately- I’d need way more data. That said…. This is the first new “wave” of development I’ve had since I started, and my actual blood levels didn’t increase that much. I really, really don’t want to conclude anything, but I’m kinda thinking that spiro had something to do with it. It has broad effects on physiology which aren’t entirely characterized, that could easily theoretically be inhibiting generic growth and development. That said, I think starting with a strong antiandrogen is basically necessary for HRT. It’s extremely difficult to get E levels up without robustly inhibiting T first. Obviously don’t take this as medical advice, or even a scientific opinion. This is nothing more than a hunch.

Idk. I’m happy. I feel like I finally am starting to break through the progress stall I’ve been growing increasingly frustrated with. And I think getting the proper injection dose actually worked to break through it. I’m feeling a lot better with my transition in general too. I won’t elaborate much here, but I’ve been coming out to a lot more people, and its been tentatively going about as well as I could ask. We’ll see what the future holds, but I’m excited about it.

#trans journal #hrt #transfemme hrt #mtf hrt #trans selfie #trans #transgender #trans timeline #trans progress #transition #transitioning #trans woman #trans female

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thenovelartist · 9 months

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The Collector - Honkai: Star Rail fanfiction

This game has me in a vicegrip. And I, the chronic shipper, have latched onto DanStelle. So... here we go. A "short" 8.7k (haha) one-shot.

It all started with a dumpster.

Dan Heng would give Stelle the benefit of the doubt in this case. She was a girl who, for all they knew, had only just entered the world via way of a stellaron inside of her. So it wasn’t unusual for her to be curious about things.

It just momentarily caught him off-guard that one of those things would be snooping through the trash.

Well, he supposed once was harmless enough for a girl in her situation. He’d warn her against it later.

(Not that she would listen, to him or March.)

~~~

Next it was papers. Before Dan Heng realized it, Stelle had amassed quite a collection of reading materials ranging from letters to instructions to random bits of fiction. She seemed quite proud of herself for these things, holding onto them with a small smile.

“Are you going to read those?” he quietly inquired after he’d caught her taking a tattered guide book off a crate.

She simply shrugged as she flipped through the pages with a proud smile.

He wasn’t sure how to take that answer.

~~~

It finally hit him after the Belobog debacle was over. Actually, it wouldn’t have hit him so hard if Himeko hadn’t forced him to go grab March and Stelle from their respective rooms for breakfast, a task he’d been less than thrilled with at the time.

After waking March, Dan Heng headed to Stelle’s room, only for her not to answer no matter how many times he knocked.

“Just open the door,” March groaned, having emerged from her own room. “She’s been staying up late lately.”

“Do you know why?” Dan Heng asked.

March just shrugged.

“Then you do it,” Dan Heng said, beginning to walk away.

“I gotta go to the bathroom!” she protested, already skipping away. “You do it; it’ll be fine.”

With a sigh, Dan Heng watched March disappear before turning back to Stelle’s door. Although hesitant, he did push the door open, sticking his head inside to see Stelle fast asleep on the futon of her room.

“Stelle,” he called out.

No answer.

Just as he was debating whether or not just to leave the clearly tired girl alone to sleep, he caught sight of her room, making note of the stack of papers and booklets that were sitting against a wall. To the left of that nicely organized pile was a much smaller pile of records she had managed to find. Her only impressive finds in Dan Heng’s opinion. On the opposite side of the paper pile was an odd assortment of objects that she had found while searching through the trash. Or through boxes. Or random suitcases.

But that was it.

His brow furrowed as he realized that, in terms of physical possessions, that small pile of pilfered objects was all she owned. All she had coming into the world were the clothes on her back, and even those were folded up carefully by her bedside. What she was wearing now was a nightgown that Dan Heng knew she had borrowed from March.

His eyes narrowed on the objects carefully arranged in the corner of her room, new questions coming to mind. Was she collecting those objects because she had nothing else? While he was not one to like collecting possessions, he knew March loved her clutter. Was Stelle the same?

The sound of shifting sheets brought him back to reality. However, he realized Stelle had still not woken up and was simply snuggling her futon blanket closer.

He sighed. He could muse over her empty room later. He had a task given to him by Himeko to accomplish.

But before that…

He looked at her one pair of clothes laying folded by her head. When was the last time those were washed?

With a shake of his head, he left Stelle’s room with the intent of going to March and telling her to give Stelle some clothes to borrow, but she wasn’t in her room. Meaning she was still in the bathroom.

Did she get distracted by her phone again?

Rather than waiting around for whenever March decided to reappear, Dan Heng headed into his room, shuffling through his things for something that would fit Stelle so that her clothes could be washed. That’s when he found an old outfit that had been handed down to him when he had had few possessions: a standard-issue Herta space station uniform. It would do.

Heading back to Stelle’s room, he set the folded shirt and pants next to the bedside of the still slumbering girl.

“Stelle.” He placed a hand on her shoulder.

She stirred at that.

“Stelle, wake up.”

Finally, her eyes blearily cracked open. “Dan Heng?”

“Himeko asked me to wake you for breakfast.”

With a groan, she buried her face back in her pillow.

“I have a spare change of clothes for you,” he commented. “So I can wash yours.”

She froze momentarily before blearily looking up from her pillow to see the stack of clothes he had brought. “Huh?”

“When was the last time yours were washed?”

“Donno,” she groused, voice still tinged with sleep.

He huffed, the corners of his lips quirking upwards as he grabbed her clothes. “Don’t fall back asleep.”

Plopping her head back down onto the pillow, she groaned. “Fine.”

“Or I’m sending March to get you.”

“I can deal with her.”

“Pom-pom, then.”

“You make mean threats.”

Fighting back his smile, he headed out the door.

“Thank you.”

He paused, realizing she was thanking him for the change of clothes. “You’re welcome. You can keep them if they fit. March shrunk them on accident the last time she offered to do everyone’s laundry. Which is fine; they were emergency clothes, anyway.”

He noticed how she finally picked her head up off the pillow, reaching out a hand to examine the new clothes before her. “Still, thanks.”

With a nod, he slipped out the door.

~~~

The Xianzhou ship was no different than Belobog, Dan Heng soon realized. That is, in the way that Stelle continued her habit of rifling through everything she could and collecting anything she found interesting.

“Was she like this in Belobog?” Mr. Yang quietly asked Dan Heng. “That is to say, should I be worried?”

Dan Heng shook his head. “She’s fine. She won’t stop even if you say so.”

Mr. Yang hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose it’s harmless enough. Here I thought she’d be more like March and gawk over things in store windows. Or maybe be like Himeko and be more subtle about it. This was… unexpected.”

That’s when Dan Heng recalled the empty state of Stelle’s room. “I think it’s not incorrect to assume her to be like March. She seems to like collecting things but doesn’t understand how people normally acquire them. And considering she came to us with only the clothes on her back and a baseball bat, she might do this because she wants things of her own.”

Mr. Yang hummed, lips pursed as he mulled over his companion’s words. “That is an entirely reasonable hypothesis. On that subject, I do suppose finding her some changes of clothes would be a necessity.”

“She would need a wardrobe, as well,” Dan Heng continued. “And since I doubt she will give up her scavenging habit any time soon, some shelves for her things.”

“A shelving unit seems more appropriate in her case,” Mr. Yang continued. “At this rate, she will amass quite a—” Mr. Yang suddenly paused, his brow knitting together in confusion as he stared over to where Stelle was. “Did she just find a record in that vase?”

Dan Heng looked over at Stelle, who was practically beaming as she studied the vinyl she managed to excavate out of a broken vase. He couldn’t help but smile despite himself. “Not that I want to encourage this habit of hers, but you’d be amazed at what she finds where.”

“Huh.” Mr. Yang gave a small smile as Stelle approached them again, her prize in hand. “In any case, I think this place is as good as any to find appropriate furniture for her room.”

“Agreed. Though, I do wonder how she’d like actual shopping for once.”

“Maybe we should give her a little spending money and see what becomes of it,” Mr. Yang suggested. “I’d be curious to see how she reacts compared to March or Himeko.”

~~~

It was their last day on the Xianzhou, Mr. Yang decided to give the trio some spending money. Hence, Dan Heng was given the option to either monitor March as she ran about or take Stelle shopping.

He felt sorry for giving Mr. Yang the hard task, but Mr. Yang was the one giving him the choice in the first place.

Dan Heng soon learned something interesting about Stelle: when given money, she became very picky about what she spent it on. That was not to say she didn’t admire things; she admired many things, but spending her money on those things is a different matter.

Which begged the question: what made the things she found different?

As Dan Heng pondered this, he failed to realize she was looking at the same jade abacus pendants for the third time. Only when she came over to him did he snap back to reality.

“Find something?” he asked, any more words dying on his tongue as she came in close, holding the two pendants up to his horns.

He froze, staring at her as she studied the pendants dangling on either side of his face.

And then she smiled, pulling them back. “Thank you.” With that, she turned around, placed one of the pendants back, and purchased the other.

But that’s it.

Furthermore, that was all she bought, despite looking around at many other stores.

It took far too long for Dan Heng’s ability to speak to return. “Maybe you should buy some clothes while you’re here,” he gently suggested, the warmth in his face fading. “So you don’t have to borrow from March anymore.”

She tilted her head, almost as though the thought hadn’t occurred to her. “I have the ones you gave me, too.”

“As a spare.”

“But I like them.”

Just like that, the heat returned to his face. Furthermore, he wasn’t sure how to respond.

Maybe it was best to just drop it for now and leave the subject of clothes to someone else. “Then are you finished shopping?”

She nodded, holding the pendant close. “Yes. We should get back to the ship. We’ve taken too long.”

“My guess is March is still out shopping,” Dan Heng said. “Or at least meandering about. If you wanted to look for more, seeing as you still have funds—”

“You do, too.”

He ignored her. “Then we can continue.”

“You don’t want anything?”

He shook his head. “There is nothing I require as of now.”

She studied him a moment, mulling over his words before nodding. “I’ve also found all I wanted. We should head back before it gets too late.”

Dan Heng wouldn’t argue. “Then we can start making our way back. And if you see any trashcans that catch your attention, then I’ll pretend to not know you.”

“Hey!”

Dan Heng just chuckled.

~~~

With a twinkle in her eye, Himeko had kindly offered to take March and Stelle into town for the day under the guise of “restocking supplies.” Which was actually her making a perfect excuse to take Stelle out of the Astral Express so Dan Heng and Mr. Yang could bring in the furniture they had bought for her.

“She really only bought the pendent?” Mr. Yang asked, his voice strained as he helped Dan Heng carry one of the two shelving units down the hall.

“Yes,” Dan Heng replied. “Oddly. I thought for sure she’d get more considering how much she likes—turn left—rummaging for things.”

Mr. Yang maneuvered the bookshelf according to Dan Heng’s commands as they carried it through the train. “Maybe the hunt is what she considers fun.”

“Maybe,” Dan Heng conceded. He then focused on instructing Mr. Yang on getting the shelving unit through Stelle’s bedroom door. Once inside, they set it up against the wall that she once had her things lined up against.

Dan Heng then took a moment to place her things onto the shelf. She could reorganize them later, but for now, he felt it the respectful thing to do since he had moved everything to make room for the furniture in the first place. Considering what little she had, it wouldn’t take that long, anyway.

“Well,” Mr. Yang started, assisting in stacking the papers on the shelf, “I suppose it’s not the worst thing in the world. She can have her habits, however odd, as long as they make her happy. Though, it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on her.”

Dan Heng couldn’t disagree.

“If she shows interest in anything else,” Mr. Yang said once they finished replacing Stelle’s… “collection” on the shelf, “we’ll get it for her.”

Before Dan Heng could respond, he heard the light clatter of metal accompany the soft pats of footsteps coming down the hall. He turned around, only to see Stelle carrying a new “collectable” in her arms.

Her brow quirked in confusion. “What…” But upon catching sight of the new furniture in her room, her eyes widened.

Mr. Yang smiled. “We thought you would like somewhere to put your things.”

When she smiled, it lit up the room, her golden eyes holding the light of a blazing star within them.

“Sorry for trespassing,” Dan Heng said, his face heating up as he turned away, unable to withstand the light that shone from her.

“It’s revenge for trespassing in your room, isn’t it, Dan Heng?” she teased, remarking all the times she came into the archives to search for research material.

“Let’s… call it that,” Dan Heng hesitantly agreed, if only to cover the fact his body was reacting strangely and not calming down.

Mr. Yang shot him a look Dan Heng couldn’t quite decipher before turning back to Stelle. “So, you found a cycrane?”

Stelle smiled, showing off her newest possession. “It was broken in an abandoned box.”

“Don’t you think you should return it to have it fixed?” Dan Heng suggested.

She looked down at the metal bird, the light in her eyes dimming at the thought.

And suddenly, Dan Heng felt a pang of guilt for ever suggesting taking her things away from her. “I suppose they should have taken better care of it. It might have even been replaced already.”

Her shoulders relaxed in relief, and the knot in Dan Heng’s stomach disappeared.

“We actually have two more pieces for you,” Mr. Yang said. “Which we should go get now. We apologize once again for trespassing, even if it was done with the best of intentions.”

“No, it’s cool,” she dismissed, looking over her shelving unit with glee. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Dan Heng dismissed, happy to leave for a moment so as to get his mind back in order. He followed Mr. Yang out of the room, and closed the door behind him.

“That was kind of you.”

Dan Heng’s brow furrowed. “What was?”

With an amused sigh, Mr. Yang shook his head. “Nevermind.”

~~~

The next thing to be put up in Stelle’s room was a cork board, like the one in March’s room, so she could hang photos March took. It also sported a few pictures Dan Heng himself took for records that Stelle commented she liked as well as notes left by the Astral Express crew for her. Unlike March’s decorative board that was randomly spattered with photos, Stelle’s was organized to hold as many pictures as possible.

Currently, the crew was indulging in one last day of exploring before leaving their current location. Well, most of the crew members were. Stelle was currently laid up in bed, sporting a leg injury after their last battle here. March had one arm in a sling yet was still determined to roam about, hence why Dan Heng was pushing past the throbbing of his own bruises to watch her. Heaven knew Himeko was in no condition to come out, and Mr. Yang insisted that he would take responsibility of watching the Astral Express in her place.

And watch out for Himeko as well, Dan Heng would guess. Mr. Yang was protective in that way.

“We should get everyone ‘get well’ gifts,” March suggested.

Dan Heng bit back his urge to protest. Just because he didn’t see a point in such gifts didn’t mean they weren’t important to March. “As in?”

“I don’t know. Flowers or snacks or something.”

“Food or medicine would be the most practical.”

March stuck out her tongue at him. “I forgot who I was traveling with,” she flatly snipped.

“Then I will leave that task to you,” he batted back.

After some time, she finished picking up gifts, and they headed back to the express. On the way, they passed through an open field area, one littered with yellow flowers that had caught Stelle’s eye when they had first arrived. At the time, she had only picked a single wilting flower to examine, but Dan Heng would guess she had chosen one on its last life due to his dry comment of it getting ruined on their upcoming adventure.

But now… now, if she were able to pick them, she would be able to keep them safe and admire them for a few days. And considering her scavenging tendencies, she might be out here picking flowers if she had the chance.

He stole a glance at March, who was humming happily as she marched along ahead of him, one of her gifts cradled in her good arm. Dan Heng carried the other gift—an assortment of interesting snacks—since her arm was in a sling. As it were, paying attention to him seemed to be the last thing on her mind, so Dan Heng bent down and plucked a large, yellow flower still in good condition. Then a second and third followed.

There. Stelle might be miserable on bed rest, but at least she would be able to study the flowers that had always caught her eye.

Once back on the train, March flipped around to face him. “I’m gonna go see Himeko first. Can you put that in my room so I can give it to Stelle later?”

Dan Heng, who had angled himself away to hide the flowers behind the folds of his clothes, simply nodded.

“Thank you!” she sang-sung before skipping off to Himeko.

Dan Heng sighed. Her chipper mood almost seemed out of place considering how affected she’d been by their last battle. It had taken him far too long to realize the extent to which she was forcing her mood, successfully hiding her anxieties for the sake of the others who were bedridden. In fact, she was doing such a good job that Dan Heng thought maybe he should have gotten something for her, just to take her mind off things and offer a moment of distraction.

Glancing at the flowers in his hands, he headed to March’s room, both to put down March’s gift for Stelle on her dresser and leave one of the flowers for her. Catching sight of the notepad on March’s bedside table, he scribbled “Get Well Soon – Dan Heng” on the top sheet and left the flower on top of it.

Once finished, he headed to Stelle’s room and knocked on her door.

“It’s open,” she responded, her voice flat and bitter. Likely a result of having her foot trapped in a cast.

Dan Heng opened the door, revealing a normally feisty girl in his old clothes trapped on her bed by a cast that supported her broken ankle. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

She shrugged, putting aside the book he had given to her before he’d left with March. “Fine?”

“You don’t sound fine.”

She just sighed. “Maybe not so fine.”

With a frown, Dan Heng approached her. “Is there anything you need?”

“Other than my leg out of this cast?”

“Not until it’s healed.”

“Then no.”

At the way she glared at her cast, her nose crinkled in frustration, Dan Heng couldn’t help but smirk. Cute, he thought.

Before he instantly caught himself and felt his cheeks warm.

Covering his embarrassment by clearing his throat, he extended the two remaining flowers to Stelle. “You were looking at these when we first arrived, right?”

The huffy gloom that was hovering over her expression morphed to surprise before giving way to that starlight smile once again. “You saw that?” she asked, her cheeks coloring a bit as she reached for the flowers.

As if he didn’t think she was pretty before, that shy blush only added to his distress. “I did. It’s my job to look out for my teammates.”

“I didn’t realize that meant ‘observe’.”

“Force of habit.”

She chuckled, amused.

As she studied the flowers in her hands, carefully running her non-gloved fingers over the petals, Dan Heng was struck with an odd sense of how lovely the sight before him was. In many situations, Stelle was a force of nature, one that not many dare to reckon with. Whether it be a baseball bat or a lance of fire, she was a blazing tornado that left a path of destruction in her wake, all in a matter of seconds. And yet, that same girl was here before him delicately stroking flower petals the color of her eyes, ones that now held an unmistakable softness. Those flowers in her hands were treated with the same respect and care that she treated all her objects with, no matter what their origin. This picture of gentility was so warm and welcoming that Dan Heng didn’t quite know what to make of it.

So he stood there awkwardly as his heart pounded in his chest.

He should leave, he thought. But all he managed to do was take a single step backwards before he froze. While he knew what he should do, he didn’t want to. Which left him wondering why he wanted to get closer, to be part of this picture of gentility before him.

Why did he want to get so close to this part of Stelle?

“Dan Heng?”

Her words snapped him back to reality, causing his heart to thump almost painfully in his chest. “Oh, uh, sorry. I… got lost in my own thoughts.” His cheeks were burning now. Hopefully, she wouldn’t ask what those thoughts were; he wouldn’t be able to tell her.

Her brow furrowed with concern as she laid the flowers off to the side. “How are you fairing? You… you took a beating, too.”

Oh, she was inquiring about his injuries. “Don’t worry about me,” he quickly dismissed. “Bruises heal faster than breaks.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean they don’t hurt.”

He simply shrugged.

With a sigh, she patted the spot next to her on her bed. “You can sit, you know.”

“I’m fine.”

At the look of disappointment that crossed her face, his iron will broke. He allowed himself to sit on the edge of her bed, which brought a happy smile back to her face.

“Did you want the company?” he inquired, curious.

She ducked her head, almost shyly. “I wouldn’t mind having you around.”

Before he could come up with a response to that—

“Dan Heeeeeeng!”

—a particularly emotional cry sounded from outside Stelle’s room.

Next thing the duo knew, March was standing in the open doorway of Stelle’s room, tears in her eyes as she clung to the flower Dan Heng had put in her room. “You got me a flower?”

Well… this reaction was not the one he’d expected.

“That’s not very Dan Heng of him, is it?” Stelle teased as she reached for her own flowers.

“It is not very Dan Heng of him!” March cried, shuffling over to throw her one good arm around Dan Heng.

A soft oof escaped him as he caught the girl who practically fell against him, reminding him that he wasn’t as healed as he thought. “March, bruises,” he grunted out.

With a gasp, she scrambled away. “Sorry!”

“I knew you were lying,” Stelle grumbled, now glaring at Dan Heng.

“They’ll heal soon enough,” he dismissed, his voice tight as he waited for the pain to subside.

It earned him an eyeroll from Stelle.

“Anyway, look at the flower he gave me!” March said, showing off her slightly worse-for-wear possession to Stelle. “And he was complaining about get-well gifts.”

“The fact that it didn’t kill him is astounding.”

At Stelle’s teasing smirk, Dan Heng glared.

“Oh! He got you flowers, too?”

Stelle’s smile softened as she brought the flowers close to her chest as though they were a prized possession instead of an afterthought plucked from the side of a road. “Yeah.”

“Man, what’s gotten into him today?” March remarked.

“I’m right here, you know,” Dan Heng flatly remarked, not that either of the girls were listening.

“But why did she get two?” March whined.

“Because I’m special,” Stelle retorted, puffing out her chest with pride as she flashed a mockingly haughty smile.

To which March stuck out her tongue. “I was going to say you should have gotten a whole bouquet for your ankle, but I take that back now!”

They stayed like that for a while just chatting back and forth, Stelle never letting go of her own flowers even as March walked away waving hers in the air.

“Thanks, once again,” Stelle said as Dan Heng was getting ready to leave. March had already left claiming she was tired and wanted to rest a bit. “For these.”

Dan Heng nodded. “You’re welcome.”

“Even though it’s not a whole bouquet.”

His expression fell at her mischievousness. “Then next time, I’ll each get you a single one so you won’t fight.”

“Aww, don’t do that,” she batted back. “This way, the flower has a friend. So she’s not lonely.”

Her last sentence was quiet but not to the point he would miss it. “Then…” He bit back the comment about bouquets, realizing just in time that wasn’t what she was talking about. “She doesn’t have to be lonely. She’ll always have a friend.” With that, he patted her shoulder before standing up to leave.

Behind him, he could hear Stelle’s quiet chuckle. “A friend, huh?” she muttered, smile clear in her voice. “Maybe I am special.”

Dan Heng paused in the doorway before he could go. “Yeah, you are.”

And then he left, unsure why his heart was pounding as he did.

A week later, March had already tossed her flower out, its petals all wilted and fallen. Stelle, however, still had hers. Mr. Yang had shown her how to press and preserve them, and they had been stuck to paper that now hung proudly on her pegboard.

Dan Heng didn’t know why, but seeing the care she’d put into an off-the-cuff gift embarrassed him. It had taken him all but three seconds to pick those flowers, yet she’d taken care of them as though they were priceless. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised considering how she took care of things she found out of the dumpster, but he still was.

It wasn’t long before Dan Heng decided that the next gift he gave her, and any after, needed far more thought than before. He’d give her things to treasure.

And he tried not to think of how happy that thought made him feel.

~~~

It took a while, but Dan Heng finally discovered the pattern in Stelle’s ever-growing collection.

Things she found were free game. He realized that, through those things, she explored her surroundings. She studied each trailblazing stop by reading all the reading materials she could get her hands on, listening to whatever music she could find, and studying the objects she found in the world, such as the cycrane that she had brought back from Xianzhou and tinkered with. It now hung from the ceiling above her small bed.

On the other hand, things she purchased were done with careful consideration and thought. They had to remind her specifically of the adventure she was on and who she was trailblazing with. Occasionally, she splurged for music or food or other odd items, but that wasn’t common.

Clothes were another matter entirely. Dan Heng had made one mention to March about Stelle’s limited wardrobe, and March had become determined to remedy that. Himeko was also more than willing to jump on the bandwagon, and the two of them became solely responsible for filling Stelle’s wardrobe.

Which was why Stelle was sporting an (admittedly cute) white sundress as they wondered around a festival on the last day of one of their adventures.

It was a rare occasion that Himeko and Mr. Yang had dared leave the Astral Express unattended so the five trailblazers could all partake in the festivities together. Dan Heng had offered to stay behind, but the duel looks of disappointment from March and Stelle had him reconsidering.

“I’ve been here before,” Himeko had explained. “And I trust the security around the Astral Express enough to leave it be for a little bit. It’s rare to have an outing like this.”

“Indeed,” Mr. Yang agreed. “I say we enjoy this while we can.”

March was the most determined to make that happen. She led the charge, suggesting different game stalls to compete at while also buying different foods for everyone to try.

Dan Heng had to admit that he was enjoying himself. “Family time” was quite the foreign concept to him, but he found this time of being with everyone he’d come to care deeply about quite precious.

Currently, they were sitting at a table, munching on what Mr. Yang insisted should be the last snack March bought for them—much to March’s chagrin—and talking about how to spend the rest of their trip. It was while March, Himeko, and Mr. Yang were discussing this that Dan Heng caught Stelle staring off into the distance.

He turned to see if he could spot what had captured Stelle’s attention, but there was nothing specific that stood out in the line of game carts. “What has your attention?” he quietly asked.

Stelle startled, likely not realizing she’d been caught, before turning back to the half-finished snack plate March had bought. “Nothing.”

“Clearly not nothing,” Dan Heng pressed.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get a reply.

“I think that if we want to watch the show tonight,” Mr. Yang began. “Then we should start migrating over in that direction. It would be better to be early to find good seats.”

“A wise idea,” Himeko said. “Why don’t we head that direction then and scope out the place first. If it’s still empty, then we can meander around a little longer before sitting down.”

“Sounds good to me!” March chipped up. “Stelle, Dan Heng, what do you guys think?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Stelle agreed.

Dan Heng simply nodded his agreement.

“Perfect,” Himeko said. “I say we finish this, then head that direction.”

Their snack was finished quickly, curtesy of March who deemed it her favorite of the snacks she’d bought thus far. But as they were heading over, Dan Heng finally realized what Stelle had been looking at all this time: a game stall.

More specifically, the dragon plush toy that was hanging as a prize.

“Does that interest you?”

Surprised, Stelle’s attention snapped to Dan Heng. “No, it just…” She shrugged, a bashful smile creeping across her lips. “Kinda reminds me of you.”

It was Dan Heng’s turn to be surprised. He stopped in his tracks, staring up at the dragon toy hanging from the awning of the stall by a rope around its neck like a noose. “You… wish to see me hung?”

Scoffing, Stelle threw a playful punch at his shoulder.

He chuckled, brushing off the hit that was probably a little stronger than she meant it to be. “Would you like it?”

Her eyes widened. “Huh?”

“We can play for it,” he offered. “If you want.”

“O-oh.” She turned to look at the toy once again, and Dan Heng could see the little gleam in her eye that he’d come to recognize as happiness for an item.

With a smile, he placed his hand on the small of her back, pushing her towards the game. “From what I can tell, you have to knock over a certain number of masks for the prize.” It also looked like people were having a hard time aiming for the small and probably heavy targets.

That’s when he saw that happy gleam in her eye turn to a competitive spark, like she was facing off against an enemy and preparing to hit them with a farewell hit after screaming “rules are meant to be broken!”

Not for the first time did Dan Heng think that her brand of odd really did fit well with the rest of the trailblazers. Maybe being strange was a job requirement.

“Hello, good sir!” the game stall owner called out as they approached. “Aiming to try your luck?”

“What are the qualifications to win the dragon?” Dan Heng asked.

“Ahh, I thought I saw the lovely young lady with the eye on the prize,” the stall owner playfully commented. “Behind me are three kinds of targets: blue haired, yellow haired, and red haired. Knocking down ten of the targets with red hair will get you the dragon. Are you up for the challenge?”

Dan Heng looked at the mask targets lined up on the shelves. Of the available targets, the ones sporting tufts of red hair seemed the smallest of the three. And if Dan Heng had to guess, there was likely a trick on how heavy they were, too.

“Are you up for it?” he asked Stelle.

Not that he needed to; he swore the energy of her fire lance was glowing in her eyes. “Let’s destroy them.”

Dan Heng chuckled as he pulled out some money. “Five balls for me, five for her.”

“Daw, don’t be like that,” the stall owner teasingly jabbed, still taking the money and offering up the balls. “You’re gonna make the lady play for her own prize?”

“The lady is more than capable,” Dan Heng clarified, sliding five of the balls over to Stelle.

Taking one of the balls and gleefully tossing it in the air, Stelle seemed to stand tall in pride.

The stall owner huffed, amused. “Well, I suppose your willingness to play along with your girlfriend is one of the reasons you have her.”

That got both Dan Heng and Stelle to freeze, sparing each other a glance before quickly looking away. “Um…” she stuttered. “That’s… not it.”

“Huh?”

Yeah, Dan Heng didn’t think it sounded convincing, either. Not that he had anything better to say.

“Er… so the red ones, right?” she asked, sharply changing the subject as she stepping back into a stance.

Happy to play ignorant, Dan Heng also took a step back. “Yes.”

She turned to throw him a competitive look. “Then let’s show them what we’re made of.”

Dan Heng felt his grip on the ball tighten, his own competitive spirit flaring in response. “Let’s.”

Ten balls and ten red-haired masks later, the stall owner, who was looking a little white in the face, was taking the stuffed dragon toy down from where it hung. “Congratulations,” he flatly said, his voice a bit breathless. “Take the toy. Please don’t show up again.”

With a bounce in her step, Stelle took her prize, squeezing it against her chest as she beamed at the man.

“We should go find the others,” Dan Heng commented, already guiding Stelle away from the stall. He couldn’t blame the man for wanting them gone. However, Dan Heng would admit he found it quite amusing to watch the man blanch paper white upon watching Stelle throw her first pitch so hard that red hair exploded off the target.

~~~

Dan Heng had developed a very bad habit as of late. Never before had he cared for objects. He was content with his books and meager necessities. However, he recently found his eye drawn to shop windows and merchant carts wherever he went.

Why? Because he was always on the lookout for things to give to Stelle.

The clothes he had first given to her were ones she still wore. Even after having accumulated her own wardrobe, he still spotted her lounging around in his old outfit. His heart still fluttered whenever he caught sight of the flowers he’d given her several stops ago. Even now, they still managed to maintain their color, having been preserved at the right time.

As for the stuffed dragon toy they had won together…

It was loved well, he’d say that. A few nights ago, he’d found her hugging the toy tightly as she gazed out the windows at the stars in the main car. Apparently, she’d had trouble sleeping and wanted to see if leaving her room would help. The toy had never left her arms. Instead, it had been hugged tightly as though it were her lifeline. Having been worried for her, he’d stayed up to talk with her long into the night, and as she’d grown tired, she’d used the dragon’s plush head as a pillow.

Knowing how much she cared for these things, he began to wonder if she’d take care of other gifts he’d give to her. Which lead to where he was now. Honestly, he found it a bit embarrassing and hoped no one ever found out. But considering the way Himeko was currently looking at him, he doubted he could hide it much longer.

“It’s not like you to window shop,” she remarked, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “And there’s no holiday or event coming up, as far as I’m aware.”

Dan Heng shrugged, absently wondering how long he could escape Himeko’s prodding.

“You’re not the type to like souvenirs,” she continued. “And I could be wrong, but this culture’s style isn’t to your utilitarian tastes, so it’s unlikely you’re getting anything for yourself.”

“It would be faster for you to simply ask your question,” Dan Heng answered, realizing with a tinge of disappointment that the answer to his previous question was “not very long.”

“Is it for Stelle?”

At the sound of her name, his stomach twisted, feeling fluttery. He sighed. “Am I being that obvious?”

Himeko giggled. “No. However, when someone has known you as long as I have…”

Dan Heng would give credit where credit was due: Himeko was quite observant.

“Forgive me,” she continued. “I can’t help but meddle when I see a romance bloom before my eyes.”

Dan Heng choked, his heart now fluttering along with his stomach.

Himeko’s smirk fell as she looked at him with bemusement. “Oh? Are you that stunned that I picked up on it? Or…” Her smile slowly returned. “Did you not realize it yourself?”

“I-it’s not like that,” Dan Heng protested.

“Really now?”

“Yes.”

Despite the warning in his voice, Himeko hummed, unperturbed. “Then how would you define your relationship, considering that you’re looking for a gift for Stelle when you’re not doing the same for March?”

Dan Heng opened his mouth to retort, only to catch himself. His answer would surely lead to further doubts, yet it was the embarrassing truth. However, not answering the question would only lead Himeko to believe her original guess was correct, meaning he’d have to explain in detail to avoid confusion. Er… any more of it, anyway.

“Stelle has a habit of collecting things,” he began.

“Yes, she does,” Himeko agreed, nodding along amusedly. “You and Welt were very kind to set up those shelves for her.”

“Specifically, she enjoys collecting items that meet certain qualifications from each place we stop at.”

“And you’re looking to give her one of these items?”

Dan Heng nodded in response, thinking for a moment that Himeko might just understand after all.

“Why?”

“Why?” Dan Heng repeated, confused at the question.

“You don’t indulge March like this.”

“March likes anything and everything,” he dismissed. “Getting her something for the sake of getting her an item would only clutter her room.”

“But Stelle is different?”

Dan Heng realized too late that he did not like where this conversation was going, yet he was helpless to stop it. “Y-yes.”

Much to his surprise, Himeko hummed and nodded, happy to quietly accept his answer. “So, one more question: just what are the qualifications for this item she’s looking for?”

A seemingly safe question. Frankly, Dan Heng would take this one over any more prodding over a crush he most certainly did not have. “She likes things that remind her of us.”

“Us?”

“Specifically, of the people she trailblazes with on each mission.”

Himeko hummed. “So that’s why she has a jade pendant that is reminiscent of your horns, the flowers you gave her, a plush dragon toy, and your old clothes as sleepwear. I see.”

Dan Heng glared at Himeko, whose eyes once again held a wickedly teasing gleam.

She giggled. “Are you looking for something that will remind her of you this time?”

He crossed his arms, unsure of how to answer.

With a sigh, that gleam in her eye softened. “Dan Heng. Can I give you a bit of unsolicited advice.”

“I have the feeling that even if I were to say no, you’d still want to give it.”

She smirked. “I have trailblazed all over the cosmos for many years, and several people have come and gone from my life. If I were you and the option to deepen a bond with someone was set in front of me, I would reach out for it. Trailblazing is a lonely life. Having someone by your side to have and hold would make that life a little more comforting, don’t you think?”

The sincerity in her tone gave Dan Heng pause. “You, Mr. Yang, March, and Pom-pom are all equally my companions,” he responded. “Just as much as Stelle.”

“Yes, but to you, Stelle is different from the rest of us, isn’t she?”

“She… is still the newest member—”

“You would not have done this for March,” Himeko repeated.

At that, Dan Heng had no answer.

Giving him a reassuring smile, she leaned forward, almost conspiratorially. “Dan Heng. Take the chance.”

And with that, she walked away, giving Dan Heng much to think about.

~~~

It was after their most recent mission was completed that Dan Heng finally came to a decision. Himeko had been quietly encouraging, and she must have told Mr. Yang something as the man seemed to be giving Dan Heng subtle looks of approval.

March was clearly still left in the dark, thankfully.

For the umpteenth time today, he reached into his pocket, squeezing the object he had bought. Although he still had his doubts, he’d already made a decision to press forward. He’d spent enough time mulling things over, debating the pros and cons of what this decision would bring and if he really wanted this in the first place.

But now, as he was walking around the outskirts of the city with Stelle by his side, two things solidified in his mind: yes, he really did want this, and yes, any drawbacks outweighed the rewards he would gain if they did move forward.

“Did you happen to find any souvenir you liked?” Dan Heng asked, starting conversation.

Her nose scrunched in frustration as she shook her head. “No. And we leave soon.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing,” Dan Heng teased. “Between that and your scavenging, you’re going to run out of room on your shelves.”

She glared at him.

Despite himself, he smiled. “When was the last time you cleaned all your trinkets, anyway?”

“Four days ago,” she easily answered. “After Pom-pom kicked me out of the parlor when I put my feet on the couch.”

“You should really know better by now.”

“I took off my shoes!”

“Pom-pom doesn’t care.”

Stelle just rolled her eyes. “Pom-pom needs a hobby.”

“Other than cleaning?”

“Other than micro-managing.”

Dan Heng chuckled. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Is that why you coop yourself up in the archives? To avoid Pom’s ‘charm’.”

“No, it’s March’s I tend to avoid.”

At that, Stelle snorted a laugh.

Cute, Dan Heng thought. She’s cute. “Are you certain I cannot talk you out of collecting yet another trinket to dust?”

Stelle grew quiet at his question, her smile fading as she pondered his words. “I… I want to remember.”

His brow furrowed. “Remember?”

“My adventures with everyone,” she clarified. “I don’t have memories before waking with this stellaron inside of me. I want… I want something to remember these adventures by.” By now, her voice had dropped to a murmur. “I want something to prove these times I spent with you happened. Er! All of you, I mean.”

Dan Heng found himself squeezing the object in his pocket once again. “Then here.” He held out his hand, object enclosed within it.

Her expression scrunched in curiosity as she stuck out her hand in response, and he gave her the gift he’d been holding onto for the last three days. Her eyes widened as she studied the little wooden totem now in her hands, one carved to resemble a blue lizard.

“They don’t have dragons on this planet,” Dan Heng said. “That is the closest they have to resembling them.”

She turned her wide gaze up at him. “You got this for me?”

He nodded, taking out the object in his other pocket. “And I got this for me.”

Sparing a glance at the second totem in his hand, she quirked a dubious brow up at him. “You don’t like trinkets.”

“I don’t,” he confirmed. “But… it reminded me of you.”

Her head tilted, she studied the odd, gray creature in his hand. “How so?”

“The locals call them ‘trash bandits.’”

“Hey!”

Dan Heng chuckled.

“Don’t laugh. How dare you.”

But there was no bite behind those words, so Dan Heng didn’t bother to stop.

Rolling her eyes, she turned to walk away.

“Stelle.”

Automatically, he reached out to stop her, snatching her wrist and pulling her back to him. But even once she had turned around, her expression flat, he didn’t let go. “I wouldn’t have gotten it for no reason.”

Slowly, realization began to dawn over her face. That unamused glare turned to something softer, her gaze searching for an answer.

His hand holding her wrist slid lower to hold her fingers.

And something sparkled in her golden eyes.

“It was not meant as a mockery,” he spoke. “Only a reminder of you.”

Her mouth opened, but when no words came out, she closed it and glanced away. When she looked back, her voice was soft. “That’s unusual for you.”

“It’s not a habit I plan to pick up, no. But…” The words died on his tongue, and he glanced away, struggling to find them again.

“Hey, Dan Heng.” Thankfully, she seemed to find words of her own as she gently squeezed his hand. “I… like things that remind me of you.”

It wasn’t quite the confession he was expecting, yet it was still better than his.

He squeezed her hand in return. “I’d rather be there for you so you didn’t need things to remind you.”

At least that wasn’t a half bad response, he thought.

When her face grew pink, he felt his heart pick up its pace.

“Then… can you stay by my side?” she asked.

He smiled. “If you’d let me, I’d like to.”

~~~

As someone who had suffered exile, Dan Heng had grown accustomed to being alone. In general, he was a quiet and reserved person, but loneliness was different. Hence, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved to join the Astral Express crew, to have Himeko extend the invitation to not be alone. He took comfort knowing that this place contained people who cared for him and that he cared for in return.

But then came Stelle, who somehow swayed his heart enough for him to decide to accept her as his significant other. And while that change was a large one for Dan Heng to adapt to, the comfort it brought made the transition go smoothly. To have someone by his side, whether that be while exploring a new planet or simply spending quiet time together in the archives, was something Dan Heng quickly learned to cherish.

Of course, there were many other things he learned about being with Stelle. One being that while he considered her his significant other, as she was significant in his life, she in return—

“Dan Heng?”

He blinked up at Stelle, her worried voice cutting though the foggy mess in his head. “Oh, you’re back.”

“I brought some food,” she said, closing the door to his rarely used room behind her. “Don’t worry; Himeko didn’t touch it.”

“Thank you.” He looked at the tray of food, hoping his stomach wouldn’t protest at the sight. As resistant to illness as he was, there were occasions where something from a new planet hit him so hard he went down. Such was the case currently. Although, his pride would insist that the lack of sleep, the high stress of this stellaron hunting mission, and the beating he received at the end were the reasons he was weak enough to catch an illness in the first place.

He would ignore the fact that Stelle, who’d also gone through the wringer with him, was fine.

Kneeling beside his futon, she placed the tray on the floor beside her. Hands now free, she reached out to press one of her wrists on his forehead and the other on his cheek.

Compared to the heat in his face, her touch was cool, to the point he automatically leaned into it seeking relief.

“I’m trying to source ingredients for one of Natasha’s cures,” she mentioned, pulling her hands away, much to his dismay. “Don’t worry. I’ve almost found everything. We’re trying to find a substitute for one thing, though. For now, this is all I can do.”

She held out the bowl of congee to him, one that was speckled green with what he’d assume were medicinal herbs. “Thanks.”

“Think you can stomach it?”

He shrugged, reaching for the offered spoon. “Hopefully.”

“I suppose of all of us, you’d be the most likely to hold it down, Mr. Iron Stomach.”

“Not necessarily.”

With a slightly amused smirk, she quirked a challenging brow at him. “Unlike the rest of us, you test your willpower against Himeko’s morning sludge—er, coffee, on the regular.”

“Did Pom-Pom tell you that?”

“Yeah.”

He huffed, taking a bite of food. It was slightly bitter, but not offensively so. Furthermore, his stomach didn’t seem to protest it yet. By his approximations, he would be able to get most of the bowl down. “Are we going to leave here soon?”

Stelle shook her head. “Mr. Yang suggested staying here a couple days longer for your sake. We’ll leave when you’re on the upswing.”

“No need to wait that long,” he protested. “We could leave now.”

“I agreed we should stay.”

He quirked a brow at her.

Her smirk now faded, she reached forward to lay a hand on his thigh. Even through the blanket he had draped over his legs, he could feel the light circles she made with her thumb.

Warmth flooded his cheeks as he looked down at his bowl of food. That’s right. To Stelle, he was her precious treasure, and she took very good care of everything she considered ‘hers’. Including him.

Especially him.

So if she wanted to stay for his sake, search around for all the ingredients for whatever concoction she was determined to get for him, he wouldn’t protest. After all, that was just her way of showing how much she cared. “Thank you,” he simply said, raising another spoonful of the food she made specifically to help him to his lips.

She gave him a tender smile. “You’re welcome.”

#honkai star rail #honkai fanfic #danstelle #fluff #falling in love #subtle romance #also a surprising amount of found family fluff

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tw1l1te · 17 days

Text

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 14

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, some dark themes

₊˚✩⊹

You slept like a baby after your… encounter last night. You were surprised to see Time asleep just a foot away from you, deep in slumber. You almost never saw him sleep, so this was a priceless moment. You noticed that the seemingly permanent crease in his brows had disappeared, meaning he was dreaming or sleeping without a worry. His lips were the tiniest bit parted, somehow soft and pillowy despite the harsh conditions of constantly being on the run.

His bangs were covering part of his face, so you lightly brushed them away, seeing his full face now. The moment didn’t last long, as Time was woken up by your physical touch.

“Mornin’.”

“Hey yourself. Sleep ok?”

“Jus’ fine. Surprised I slept at all.”

You chuckled, his accent was so much thicker when he was just woken up.

“What?”

“Oh nothing, you’re just cute.”

Sitting up, you notice a note on your right, written by Zelda.

Good morning, Y/n!

I’m terribly sorry we didn’t have the time to catch up yesterday, it’s been too long! I dragged Link away yesterday to talk about a particular discovery, not knowing it tied to yours as well. I was hoping you’d like to meet me for breakfast so we can catch each other up on what we found, in hopes of progressing our findings. Link knows where to find me, so he can show you around the castle so you won’t get lost. See you soon!

~Princess Zelda

So she did find something. Interesting.

Folding up the note, you placed it in your back pocket. Wild is hunched over the fireplace, seemingly cooking up some fruit and mushrooms for breakfast.

“You even make the simplest ingredients look and smell good.”

He slightly jumps at that, not hearing you approach. He gives you a small smile.

“You boost my ego way too much.”

“It’s true.”

He shrugs. He pokes the mushrooms around, making sure they get cooked evenly.

“Once you’re done with this, do you mind leading me to the princess? She left me a note saying you could lead me to her.”

“Of course. Let me just plate these really quick and we can go.”

“Where’d you go last night?”

Time blinks at his descendant, “What?”

“You weren’t here for a few hours last night. Y/n was gone too for a bit. You two ok?”

Time sighs, not particularly keen on talking about last night’s situation. Twilight, hell each one of them, was good at detecting lies. Hero’s spirit, he thinks.

“I couldn’t sleep, neither could they.”

“You do know my sense of smell and hearing is really good though, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“I know it's none of my business and all… but I care about them too, yeah? Just be careful with them, ancestor.”

“You sound like me, Pup.”

“I learned from my mentor, what can I say?”

They both return to checking on their drying clothing in front of the fireplace, a silence settling upon them.

Walking into Zelda’s study, you awe at the hundreds of books and scrolls that lined the shelves. Sheikah tech and parts were strewn about the room in boxes, some on the table as well. Zelda was looking at a map, Sheikah Slate in hand.

“You look busy, Princess.”

“It’s just busy work. I’m trying to map out a path for a possible expedition in the future.”

“Oh? Where to?”

She sets the Slate down, sighing. She points at the castle, circling the territory. “I’m trying to get underneath Hyrule Castle. When the Calamity fell, it unearthed a small opening to the corridors underneath the castle, which strangely enough, weren’t marked on the interior maps of the castle.”

That was strange.

“Do you think…. They may have left it out on purpose? In case they didn’t want the map to fall into the wrong hands? It would make sense.”

“I…. suppose, though, not even my Father or the Hylian Council ever talked about it. It’s strange.”

Zelda seems to snap out of her thoughts, focusing back on you.

“Ah, right! We’re here to corroborate our findings. Link mentioned something about hooded figures and a “Twilight Mirror”? I believe I’ve read about the era of Twilight during my studies, though hardly any in-depth information was written about the mirror. I’m surprised you found a piece.”

“Well, we technically didn’t find it, Riju and her research team did. But, yes, it does seem like the real thing and not a replica. I… don’t have it on me right now, but I did bring the Historia and a direct transfer drawing that I did.”

You hand her the two items, waiting for her response.

“This is… truly incredible! This next to the Sheikah technology are amongst the most life-changing of discoveries! Tell me, Y/n, have you found any other information relevant to the Twilight Mirror? Link mentioned something about the Yiga…” she trailed off realizing she rambled.

You smiled solemnly at her, not particularly keen on recollecting the traumatic events that occured at the hideout or in Malon’s home.

“Well, you see, I was captured by the Yiga when Link and I visited Chief Riju. It was completely unexpected, as we thought the Clan had calmed a bit since Kohga’s defeat, but it appears we were wrong. They… wanted me for an ulterior motive, for someone else rather, but that’s all I can really remember.”

She nods, letting the words sink in.

“I’m terribly sorry that happened to you, Y/n. Link is more than capable of protecting you, me, or anyone for that matter, so it must have really been something he’d never expect.”

You nod, grateful that the princess didn’t put down Li- Wild any further. Hylia knows he’s been through enough pressure and divine expectation as it was.

“…Link also mentioned something about hooded figures… do you have any information on them? Should I be worried for my kingdom?”

“No, Princess, this seems more… personal, for them at least. It seems they want nothing to do with the kingdom itself or you, but more so with me and the other heroes. I don’t have any idea about who they are and where they come from, but I can assure you me, Link, and the others will put a stop to it, regardless of how long it takes.”

She smiles sadly, looking out the window. It was already past midday, the time you spent with her flying by.

“It’s a shame it always has to come to the hero protecting everyone else. I wish I could help more.”

“You’re already helping by restoring Hyrule and not putting yourself in danger. Trust me, Princess.”

She turns back to you, the light in her eyes returning.

“Goddesses, such formalities! Please, call me Zelda.”

You and Zelda spent the rest of the day nose deep in books, textbooks, everything and anything that connected to the past few weeks. Your hands cramped from how many notes you took, giving you not so pleasant reminders of your younger years in grade school, slaving away at an essay that meant nothing to you now.

Zelda closed the book she was currently reading and stood up, ��Well! I think that’s enough for today. I truly appreciate the help, Y/n, it really wasn’t expected of you.”

“Of course. After all, it is my quest, so it only seems fit that I put in high effort.”

She smiles, nodding at you.

“Well then, I’ll be heading out to prepare for the night. I most likely won’t see you until tomorrow, but please don’t leave yourself cooped up in here much longer, trust me, it gets to you.”

You nod, waving her off. You sigh, slumping against the chair. How long were you even here? Wind must be bored out of his mind. Shaking your head out of your thoughts, you continue back on your research, taking the book from the top of the stack for you to look through.

Before you could put in a decent dent in your work, the door knocked.

“Come in!”

You thought that it was Wild, surprised to see the Captain walking into the room.

“Still in here? I’m amazed at your skill of concentration. Hylia knows some of the others need it.”

“I’m finishing up, I can’t feel my hand anyways. I just want to finish this last book and then I’ll come join y'all.”

“I’ll stay with you, it’s not like I have anything better to do. I left the others behind anyways to find their away around the castle.”

“That’s mean.”

“They’re fine, they have Wild with them. Plus, I wanted to spend time with you, even for a few moments.”

You hum, satisfied with his answer. You weren’t happy about the fact he left everyone behind, but you did like his company, as awkward as you got.

You continued flipping through the pages, your fingers fumbling with the corners. At a certain point, Wars was sitting next to you, your knee brushing against his, faltering your focus.

“...I’m sorry for what happened back in the desert. I should’ve come sooner.”

You lifted your head, turning to him.

“That wasn’t your fault, Wars. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, besides the Yiga Clan and… whoever our little friends are.”

“But still I-”

“You are all so stubborn. I’m gonna say this once, and one time only: it wasn’t your fault. You had nothing to do with it, Link.”

He stayed silent at your demand, searching your face for any hesitation in your words or flickers of uncertainty. Something took over his psyche and decided to lean in closer, your noses bumping against each other.

“You’re too…fuck-”

You pull him in, impatient with his indecisiveness. He grunted lightly, clearly not expecting the sudden confidence from you. He brings his hand to the base of your head, lightly pulling you in. He’d been waiting and waiting, waiting to show what you meant to him. He promised himself that after the recent incident and the too-close call, he needed to tell you, show you.

He pulled away reluctantly, not wanting to end this sacred moment, but he needed to breathe. You placed your forehead against his, catching up on your breath. He tucked away the couple strands of hair framing your face, looking at your eyes. He could get lost in them.

“H-hah, you’re terrible with feelings, Wars.”

He chuckles, placing a kiss on your forehead, “What can I say, it’s the hero’s spirit.”

You roll your eyes, but you both laugh. You could feel the pressure of the past few weeks leaving your body, even just temporarily.

Closing the book, you get up and hold out your hand to him, “I think that’s enough reading for today. You coming with me?”

“Always.”

“There is absolutely no way you used to look like that.”

“Speak for yourself! You’re practically showing off your ass in those tiny shorts!”

“Oh wouldn’t you like to know-”

You and Wars enter the gallery hall to find the rest of the group laughing and bickering over their paintings. You avert your eyes from Time, remembering the events that took place in the very same hallway. Luckily, he was preoccupied with looking at the paintings to notice your presence yet.

“Y/n, they’re making fun of me ‘cause I’m shorter than Zelda!!”

You chuckle, running up to Wind to look at his painting. Your lips twitch as you cough in your palm, trying to mask the laugh bubbling up your throat.

“I mean….”

Wind just throws up his hands in defeat, “Ugh!!”

Wild walks up to you, standing on your left. He leans into you a bit, asking “I take the meeting with Zelda went well?”

You nod, “Yeah, we got a lot done. Can’t say I found anything extremely helpful, but maybe some leads we could follow.”

“Oh? Who or where?”

“Hmmm… I think the nearest would be Kakariko Village, possibly Robbie and Purah in Hateno, and Lurelin Village, as it says they have a piece as well.”

“Did any of the texts mention how many pieces there were?”

“No, but if I had to guess based on patterns and the size of the piece we have, I’d say anywhere from three to seven. It’ll be easier to tell once we see the other in Lurelin.”

He nods, deep in thought.

“I’ll mention it to Twi and Time, they might have an idea on how to split up the work or what leads should take priority.”

You nod, thanking him. You weren’t sure how Twilight was taking to the journey to assemble the Twilight Mirror, as he seems… distant. Not necessarily upset, but almost hazy in thought or… memories.

You hoped you could find some time tonight to talk to him and see his perspective on your current journey, give him space to be vulnerable if need be.

You just hoped your efforts weren’t in vain.

The goddesses above tended to do that.

₊˚✩⊹

#linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe au #final promise au

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