Warnings: violence, angst, bro I have no recollection of ever writing this???, uhh character death at some point?, unrequited romance probably?, idk where this was supposed to go as a story?
Disclaimer: I don’t know when, or if ever, I’ll update this again! Just a warning! I wrote this a long time ago!... why did I decide this was 4 parts.. WHEN did i decide that?.. I also don’t listen to Beyoncé much so I probably wrote this when i was in A Mood, so if anyone knows why this would be 4 parts... like if it was part of a song... pls let me know..
(posted from my Luna/AO3 accounts. below is the original A/N)
(Hey! So this is part one of a four part fic im writing! This takes place in S2 so read this if you've either read up to Ymir's arc in the manga (if you don't know what I'm talking about, you're not there), watched her arc in the anime, or you don't care about spoilers.
The song I used to inspiration was All Night by Beyoncé!
This wasn't supposed to be so angsty but that's what I write best so lmao sorry
Last note, I love Ymir with all my heart and I would die for her. I would like to cosplay her but I'm like... super short... TT^TT)
I found the truth beneath your lies
And true love never has to hide
Trade your broken wings for mine
I’ve seen your scars and kissed your crimes
“Ymir, can you come here a second?”
She grunted. “Hold on a second, I gotta finish this first.”
You smiled as she finished braiding flowers into Krista’s hair. The blonde girl was fast asleep in Ymir’s lap but Ymir promised her that she would make her hair look beautiful, and if Ymir is good at anything, it’s keeping promises.
Ymir hummed in content as she put the last daisy in its place and you could just barely see her pleased grin from where you were lying in the grass. There was a gentle shift of cloth and some more shuffling before Ymir dropped herself down next to you and sighed. You stole a glance behind you to see Krista sleeping on Ymir’s jacket.
“Ymir,” you chided in a voice cloyed thick with faux admonishment, “You’ll catch a cold like that.”
“I won’t.”
“Yes, you will.”
“Trust me,” Ymir turned on her side to look you in the eyes. For some reason, you could taste phantom tears on your tongue and feel the ache of a heart that wasn’t yours. “I won’t.”
Then the feeling was gone. You weren’t completely sure that it actually happened.
“The fresh air is nice, huh?”
You were brought back into reality by Ymir’s low voice. You brought your attention back to the starry sky above you. Sometimes being in the Survey Corps wasn’t that bad. You got away from the bustling life of the city and got to see the world– or what was left of it– from a sight very few would ever see. It was nice, but it would never make up for the fact that you could die at any moment and no one would notice.
“Yeah.”
Silence stretched out for a moment before you rolled on your side and started to toy with Ymir’s hair. She raised an eyebrow at you but didn’t move to stop you.
“What’re you doing?”
You untied her hair. “I want to make your hair look pretty too.”
She laughed but was empty. It sounded the same but its bitterness bled from between her teeth and echoed through the meadow.
“My hair isn’t pretty.”
“That’s not true,” you twisted a lock of hair between your fingers. “It’s very pretty.”
Ymir chose not to reply and you took that chance to kiss her hair. She blushed and quickly looked away. She’d never understand how you could do things like that and hold eye contact. It was unnatural.
“Idiot…”
You hummed in reply and started to plait her hair. The moon made her hair look as silky as it felt and you smiled. Moments like these were few and far in between in the life of a soldier.
“Hey, I’ve been thinking…”
“Yeah?”
“I think I’m gonna cut my hair.” She didn’t look at you. Your heart stuttered in your chest. You didn't know why.
“Go ahead.” Your voice was thick in your throat and you wished that the feeling would go away. “I’ll cut it for you, if you want.”
“Really?” Ymir looked back at you with wide eyes. “You don’t have to. I can just shave my head like Connie, or something.”
Your snorted and Krista stirred. Ymir slapped a hand over your mouth in a panic.
“You’ll wake Krista!”
“Sorry!” You wiped the tears from your eyes. “Sorry! But please don’t shave your head, I don’t want you to look like Connie. You’re nothing like him and I don’t want to mistake him for you, ever.”
She laughed softly, careful not to disturb Krista. “Yeah,” she said, “I can see where you’re coming from.”
You were nearly finished with her hair when she asked when you could cut her hair for her.
“Whenever is fine.”
Daisies, lavender, and aster weaved between stranded of her hair. Echinacea, lupine, Queen of the Prairie curled and settled between empty sections of the plaits and you smiled.
“All done.”
You raised her hair to her eyes– Ymir could only see the ends of your work and she gasped.
“It’s… beautiful…” She turned and looked you in the eyes as she spoke. “Thank you.”
This time it was your turn to look away. “No problem.”
“Hey, this isn’t the best time…”
You glanced up.
“But can you cut my hair now?”
Ymir pulled a knife out of the belt around her hips. It glinted in the moon’s white light and all you could think of for a moment was that it was your last defense when face to face with a Titan, when all your blades broke, gas gone, and all you had with you was your born natural defenses. This knife was the last defense against looming death, other than your teeth, nails, and piercing scream. But Titans never cared for those last three.
“Now? I just finished your hair…”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I don’t want to clean up my hair if we cut it back in the barracks though.”
You frowned and Ymir’s torso twisted back to face you.
“I’m really sorry.”
All you could see was her face, framed by wildflowers and kissed by the moon, and the starry sky above that enveloped the world, no matter how cruel or kind. Ymir’s eyes looked anything but empty and her mouth strained in guilt.
“It’s alright,” you said, looking upon the goddess of the wild and the hunt herself– she was Artemis. “I forgive you.”
And you took hold of that knife and began to saw through her silky hair, not minding the flowers that tore and bruised along the way. She wanted it short. You felt like you were severing a part of yourself with each cut but you didn’t understand why.
“All done.”
Ymir brought up a hand to explore her hair. It framed her face nicely, curling in at her jaw. It suited her.
“Thanks.”
