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fireflyjunkie · 3 years

Text

FEEL SOMETHING

(A Sanders sides Angst one-shot fic)

Part 1

4,391 words

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING⚠️

Razor blades

Self harm

Gore

Numbness

Logan angst

Confrontation on self harm suspicions

Summary:

Logan is tired of being the cold, emotionless robot that everyone perceives him as. He’s repressed his emotions to such a great extent that he genuinely doesn’t feel anything major anymore. He does have his nightly break-downs sometimes, but he needs more than that.

However, this is where roads begin to cross. Logan feels that it would be nice and beneficial to experience strong emotions, but he doesn’t know if this feeling is stronger than his fear of expressing such things. Being viewed as a joke and not being taken seriously is his worst nightmare. Because of this, the logical side just keeps up his stone cold front to avoid being weak.

This dilemma Logan had found himself in really frustrated him. No matter how hard he tried to think of a solution, nothing ever satisfied both ends of the spectrum. The best he had come up with was to keep up the front when he was with the others and then let himself break down at night when no one was around, and even that didn’t help him nearly as much as he wished. This eventually led him to looking for answers online. One search led to another, and Logan has figured out something that might help him. It’s a bit risky, and he’ll have to hide it from the others, but he knows how to be safe with it, so he’ll give it a shot just to feel something.

•———————————————————————-•

Part 1

6:34pm

Logan was sitting at the dinner table with his three friends as they ate their meal. Nothing unusual about the evening, they had their casual little chats and the occasional playful banter from Roman and Virgil, with Patton butting in every so often. Logan kept his focus all on the plate of food in front of him. The paternal figure had worked hard to make this, he wasn’t going to let it get cold. Plus even if he wanted to join the conversation, he wouldn’t even know what to say. Sure he was the logical side and he had a heap of facts to spit but when it comes to the jovial friendly conversations the others usually shared. He truly couldn’t find the words to contribute something meaningful into the atmosphere, so other than correcting a false statement, he kept silent.

“Now Virgil, I’m just saying that a kid would be much more excited to watch a movie like Alice in wonderland and we all know it!” Roman exclaimed to the emo sitting across the table from him. It’s not at all surprising that the current conversation taking place was one about Disney. Especially when it was Virgil and Roman who were the ones bickering. “I mean all the bright colors and such a classic story is bound to win a kid over!”

“Uhuh sure, like kids would want to watch a film about a bunch of mentally ill people on an acid trip. Plus, the queen of hearts is scary for them,” Virgil retorts, glaring at Roman before taking a bite of his food. “The princess and the frog is clearly a superior movie. It’s about an independent hard working woman who doesn’t need a man to help her achieve her goals, like are you kidding me? And she helps him out, that is a nice change for once.”

“Yea I cannot argue with that, we stan Tiana,” Roman admits, leaning back in his chair. Logan was about to question the prince about the term he just used, but decided against it, keeping quiet.

“But the shadow man is scary!” Roman continues.

“Uh, no. ’I’ve got friends on the other side’ is such a bop. But I am one of the friends on the other side,” Virgil pulls his signature 2000’s MySpace emo face. ‘Bop’. Logan remembers what that meant. He had to ask Roman about it later to make a vocabulary card.

“Oh my god can you get any edgier?” Roman asks the snickering Virgil across the table as he rolls his eyes and goes back to his food. The only thing Logan could think of at this time is how useless that conversation was. Their frivolous arguments had no solid points or evidence to back up their argument if they were trying to persuade the other. He chose not to say anything so as to not further encourage them. Instead he had just yet again kept quiet and his focus was on finishing his food so he could retire to his room.

“So Logan, are you almost finished with your work?” Logan’s head snapped up when the mention of his name came from Patton. ‘Work.. it was always work.’

“No, Patton. There are still a few tasks to be completed that need to be completed tonight,” Logan states, adding on that last bit so hopefully he isn’t bugged with having a ‘family night’ as Patton and the others like to call it. Which, it doesn’t make any sense considering the fact that none of us are actually related.

“Well, once you are done with that, do you wanna come watch a movie with us!?” The parental side excitedly asks. Logan internally cringed at Patton’s use of grammar, but more at his failed attempts at getting out of this without having to ask. It’s not that Logan didn’t like the others, it’s just that tonight specifically he wanted to be left alone. Sometimes spending time with them is considered a good thing to him because he knows that he needs to take breaks from his work sometimes and Patton gives him an excuse to do so. Also, knowing that Patton wants him there helps him feel less like a robot, but that feeling quickly returns when they don’t even care to ask him his opinions for the movie choice.

“Oh.. that’s ok! There’s always next time, right?” Patton sounded a little disappointed, but supportive nonetheless. “Well I wish you good luck with that, Logan!”

“Thank you, Patton,” Logan finishes the conversation while turning his attention back towards his almost empty plate.

The rest of the dinner went by as normal. They all took their dishes to the sink and Patton offered to help Roman complete the dishes and Virgil retired to his room for the night. Logan says his goodnights and follows suit to his own room.

After entering, Logan lightly shut his door and pressed his back against the cool wood. The lights were still off, so he sat in the inky black dark atmosphere staring at the ceiling in order to prevent the dark curtain draped over the contents of his room from playing tricks on his eyes. He didn’t bother finding the light switch; he felt it was unnecessary. It would only illuminate everything that reminded him of everything that burdens him. He hates not knowing.

The logical side leaned his head back against the door and squeezed his eyes shut, the blankness of the dark and the silence began to be too much for him; it made him feel too alone. With no senses available, you are left with nothing but your own thoughts to drown in. Nothing to do but to fall down that hole of endless thinking. Logan’s head swarmed with every emotion he was feeling at once. Every fact he wished wasn’t true danced behind his eyes and pounded on his skull demanding his attention.

Logan couldn’t help but let the tears run down his cheeks. They started rolling faster and he held his hand over his mouth, choking back a sob. He hated doing this, but he had to if he wanted to remain sane. He just felt so vulnerable and embarrassed. Logan felt his legs begin to shake so he slid down the door to sit on the floor. God he hopes no one comes to his room.

The logical side stayed on the floor like that for a while. He didn’t know how long, but he was surprised when he looked at his phone to find he had been there for almost thirty minutes. Once the crying had for the most part stopped and Logan realized that it didn’t really help at all, he decided to get up from his spot on the floor and turn on some lights. He had reached for the plug connected to fairy lights strung around his room and plugged it into the electrical socket, illuminating the whole space with a soft Caramel colored glow. The lights were a gift from Patton last Christmas, the parental figure had gotten some for everyone in the house. At first the logical side thought they were childish and impractical due to him already having a light in his room, but Patton persisted so he put them up and once he saw how they casted a honey coating to all the contents of his bedroom and how the atmosphere instantly shifted from sharp to calming and gentle, he decided that they weren’t that bad.

After his eyes had adjusted to the light, Logan walked into the bathroom that he has in his room and shut the door after turning on the light. The sudden contrast of the soft light of his room to the harsh light of the bathroom only worsened his growing headache so the first thing he did was retrieve the Ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet and swallow two. After that he took his glasses off and placed them on the side of the sink before proceeding to wash his face of tears with warm water from the faucet. After he patted his face dry with a towel, he took a minute to just look into the mirror. He took notice of his cold, dead eyes that were a navy blue, but despite being such a bright color, his eyes looked more dull and grey. ‘No wonder the others think I’m a metaphorical robot.” He thinks to himself. He decides not to stay there any longer or else Remus might hear him drowning in his thoughts and show up so he grabbed his glasses and started back towards his room.

Logan didn’t know what to do now. He’s already cried a bunch but that didn’t help. He just sat on the edge of his bed trying to figure things out. The laptop sitting closed and still in his desk caught his eye. ‘There may be an article on the internet explaining my situation.’ The logical side thought to himself before he got up and made his way towards his desk, pulling out the chair and sitting down. While he opened the device up and typed in his password, he thought about what he was going to type into the search bar. While the Google page displayed on his screen awaiting his questions, Logan’s fingers moved to type in the first one that came to mind; ‘How to feel when you are numb?’

Once he pressed enter, he proceeded to scroll for what he was looking for. He passed a bunch of articles about physical health and stuff like that. ‘Perhaps I worded it incorrectly?’ He thought to himself before seeing something that could potentially be what he was looking for. It was a link to a twitter post. It was titled ‘I don’t feel anything. I do this to feel something,’ and Logan thought that would suffice nicely to his needs. Though, the side wasn’t prepared for what he was going to see when he clicked it. Blood. Lots of blood. Cuts all up and down the poster’s forearm that could be recognized as dermis and epidermis level cuts. And finally, a bloodied double edge razor blade sitting calmly in a warm crimson pool on the counter top.

Logan gasped upon the image displayed in front of him. It wasn’t too intense but seeing a part of the human body all cut up didn’t make him feel too comfortable, but he was slightly intrigued. He was kind of confused why the gorey photo was related to what he was looking for so he decided to look into it further; only because the text part of the post seemed to relate a little to his state of mind.

The logical side scrolled down past a few more photos of the same cuts just at different angles. He kept observing the images while trying to think of where to go from here until he decided to use the tags the original poster had provided with the text to research further. He viewed 10 or so hashtags of random things to figure out what the point of this was. Some of them just confused the side, but one of the words he recognized from an article he read a few months ago when Roman fell into a deep depression and he tried to gather as much information as he could to help him because the others were worried and terrified for him. However, he never had to use much information because they had luckily gotten him out of that mental health decline before anything terrible happened. Well, at least to his knowledge. The tag in question reads as ‘self harm’. Now Logan felt a little stupid because he knew what this was before, but a little clarification never hurt anyone.

He had to admit, he was a little taken aback by the fact that what he was experiencing was linked and related to self harm but he decided to explore more under that subject to further understand it. When he clicked on the tag, he was exposed to pages and pages of self harm. He stopped at one particularly disturbing one. It was a video of a girl with a straight razor that resembled that of what a barber would use. In the video, she had pressed as hard as she could and with one clean swipe, the fat inside her arm was exposed. By this point, Logan was feeling a little sick to his stomach on account of what was displayed in front of him. The video however kept going. The girl dabbed the open wound with a white towel, so the amount of blood that was being soaked up was very visible. The girl picked the weapon up again and placed it in the center of the cut and proceeded to apply pressure while she dragged the blade along her arm at a painfully slow speed. When the pool of blood was soaked up, fascia was exposed and Logan really wanted to look away but he couldn’t. He vaguely understood the premise behind self harming, but witnessing it to this extent kind of confused and scared him.

Luckily the video stopped there and Logan closed it out and continued to scroll through the page. He did not find much there other than the pictures and videos of people cutting themselves and he was starting to feel more and more uncomfortable, almost like what he felt when he was under the effects of Virgil’s room; and for that reason he decided to close out this tab and search elsewhere. The logical side really didn’t know why he was so intrigued to this certain coping mechanism. He knew it was very unhealthy, but he couldn’t let it go.

After a few google searches about the topic of self harm and a few articles later, Logan found one specific body of text that piqued his interest. It was basically describing the effects self harming has on the brain and why so many people do it and says it helps. He read through it and the information he gathered was rather interesting to him. Basically, the context of the article was explaining the science behind why self harming was addictive and why some people do it in the first place.

‘So, cutting myself will release neurochemicals in my brain that mimics that of dopamine? Fascinating..’ Logan thinks to himself. The side takes a minute to think it through. Was he actually considering this? I mean, there is scientific evidence that proves that doing this will help him. Logan ponders a bit on that last point, basically pushing him to do it. He just resorts to searching for reasons not to go through with it at this point. Only two reasons came to his mind when he tried to think up reasons to push the thoughts out of his head. The first was the safety aspect of it. Of course when you are cutting yourself there are things that can go wrong; however Logan felt confident enough that he knew how to do this safely. He knew where the vital points were on the human body so he knew where it was safe to cut as well as how deep to go. He also knew how to properly dress the wounds and how to take care of them so they didn’t get infected so the logical side could figuratively throw that worry out the window.

The only factor that was left in play affecting Logan’s decision in going through with this is the guilt he would have to face if the others found out. With Patton having gone through a situation similar to this when Roman was having severe mental health issues and when Virgil ducked out, Logan would figuratively (and almost literally) have the blood on his hands just adding it to the list. He knows that Patton always tries his hardest to do things that make everyone as happy as they can be, and oh the lengths he would go to do that. Let’s just say that the parental side has had many sleepless nights on account of helping someone else. But surely if Patton had ever found out about all the things Logan hasn’t told him, it would make him feel like he hasn’t been enough for people even more than he already does, even and who knows what could happen to him when that happens and he lives knowing that three of his friends have been struggling.

Logan had to ponder on this one for a minute. But with him being logic and all, he brought up the point that the way Patton was thinking about things is untrue and if he had to, Logan with a little of Virgil’s help could sit down with him and possibly explain things in order to pull him from that mindset.

He quietly hummed to himself, feeling accomplished at finding a solution. This satisfied feeling quickly deteriorated as confusion began to spill. Why was he feeling this way about something so grim? Why was he so compelled to stand up to get that spare razor that lay waiting in the bathroom cupboard? He thought it was even irrational to consider doing such things but it just felt like something that could actually help him, and he needed it.

He didn’t know what made him do it, but something in him made him push himself out of his desk chair to shut his laptop without powering it off and making his way to the bathroom. Once inside, he quietly closed the bathroom door. He opened the door of the shadow box, but for some reason it felt super slow like in a dramatic movie. He didn’t know why his hands were shaky when he spotted the razor and went to gently pick it up.

Just then as he examined the weapon in his grip, he felt the adrenaline pumping. It all just set in. Oh my god he was actually going to do this. He was just moments away from his destination. He gulped down a nervous lump in his throat as he examined the perfectly new blade for any rust. The side didn’t understand why he was so nervous; he knew how to do this safely so why was he so scared? Maybe he’s afraid of the pain

Logan however quickly dismissed this thought so that it doesn’t chase him out of a decision. I mean he would only seem MORE weak if he pulled such a pansy move. It shouldn’t be too bad.

He started by washing the blade and his forearm with warm water just as a precaution. He shakily held the blade horizontally over his wrist. Deep breath in and-

Slice

He ran the blade across his skin and then exhaled the breath he was holding. He sort of relaxed when he realized that it wasn’t that bad and that he was ok. Still, he checked the damage. It was a cut on the epidermis layer of the skin so nothing bad. Even so, he watches the blood bead along the clean line in fascination. It started to drip a little but that was caught with the towel that Logan pulled off the towel rack. He gently pressed the cloth to the cut and when he pulled it back, he closely watched as blood refilled the small wound. He was satisfied with his work and for some reason, he couldn’t stop looking at it. He wanted more.

So that’s what he did; the side made a few more clean lines parallel to the first one he made. He would stop to just watch the blood, then soak it up before watching how it refills again. Logan found himself admiring his arm from all angles, wearing these cuts like some sort of sick and twisted accessory. Logan continued to leave a few more little cuts, holding his arm over the sink to not make so much mess with blood (and to not ruin his favorite button up shirt).

The logical side went for one more and pressed a bit harder this time. When he swiped the blade, white was exposed before blood started to seep out from the edges of this deeper and wider cut. Actually being able to see the inside of his arm like that kind of scared him. He recognized this as the dermis level of skin. It made him a bit uneasy how he could turn his arm sideways and see the cut gape a bit, but he couldn’t stop looking at it. He thought if Remus was here, he would have said it looked like a mouth.

After that tiny scare of going deeper, he decided he was done with this for the night, afraid of going farther than he already has. As he started cleaning the blood from his arm and his sink, he was thinking over his success rates with this exercise. He had come to the conclusion that this had done what he wanted it to for him. He smiled to himself as he looked at the fresh cuts. The smaller and thin ones have already dried and scabbed over, but the deeper one he had just done was still filling with blood after each time he soaked it up, but it was slowing down. He doesn't know if he smiled because the treatment worked or if he was just proud of what he had done, but to him it just matters that he got a smile out of it. Once all the blood was cleaned up, he opened the shadow box again to retrieve the bandages. Carefully, he wrapped his arm in a secure bandage and put the rest away. The pressure of the cloth being wrapped tightly around his arm felt oddly nice and contrasted with the burning sensation on his skin from the contact.

The side stops moving and stands perfectly still when he feels a presence in his room. His heart dropped out of fear in realizing that this is the worst time to be here for obvious reasons. He slowly reaches for the doorknob of the bathroom and turns it, trying to prepare himself for whatever is about to happen. When the door was opened, it revealed Remus sitting on Logan’s bed just looking around.

“R-Remus, what are you doing here?” His voice was shakier than he wanted it to be. He wasn’t sure if the cause was from what he just did in the bathroom or the fear he had from another side possibly knowing.

Remus’s gaze shifted towards the nerd and the bandage on his arm. “Well, as I am Thomas’s own intrusive thot,” he stopped for a second to giggle at his play on words, “I can sense unwanted thoughts from any other part of Thomas,” he got up from his spot on Logan’s bed to walk towards him.

“I was picking up something from you, not like the normal. I had some suspicions and came to investigate but it seems as if I was right,”

“I.. I’m not sure I know what you are referring to,” he lied. Logan thought it was eerie to hear Remus talk in this more serious manner.

“Yea, no we both know that is a big lie,” Remus slightly smirked at Logan for the fact that he was right and gestured to Logan’s bandaged arm. Logan just avoided the other side’s eyes and held his arm behind his back. This and Logan’s uncomfortable silence confirmed it to Remus and he was no longer smiling, he had a look of empathy and slight hurt on his face. He was also sort of mad at the others because he feels and sees what Logan goes through with them and he thinks he can understand why Logan would resort to self harm.

“Logan, do you need to talk about it?” He asked. Logan has talked to Remus about his situation before, but he didn’t want to talk about this. He just brushed past Remus to go lay his pajamas out on the bed to get changed for the night. “No, I do not wish to speak of this and I ask you to kindly not mention this to anyone else, but thank you for your concern,” he never turned around to look at the other once. Remus just stood there with a slight frown. He then got an idea on what to do and he sunk out without saying anything else.

Logan could feel when the intrusive side left the room and released the breath he was holding in relief. He felt guilt wash over him in the moment. He really disliked lying to one of his closest friends but it was for the best. It was way too early for him to be able to tell anybody- scratch that. He didn’t want to tell anyone at all. He just hoped that Remus would listen and not tell anybody. The logical side thought of what he would do if that were to happen as he changed his clothes to something more comfortable.

He stopped before getting into bed to ponder if he should leave his fairy lights on while he slept. They were left on as he climbed under the cover to keep the atmosphere soft.

The logical side found himself holding his bandaged arm up above his face to admire it. He didn’t know what it was, but knowing what he'd done gave him tiny butterflies of adrenaline in his stomach which led him to a small smile. Logan was never an artist of any medium, but those crimson lines that stain his forearm felt like an art piece to him. It made him feel accomplished and.. happy. And with that, the side brought his arm back under the covers and closed his eyes to be consumed by sleep with a smile on his face.

•———————————————————————-•

Hope you enjoyed this first part :)

Yea a little background, sanders sides is such a comfort series for me, so I started writing this back when I was struggling a lot and I decided to keep writing this now so I hope you enjoy this bucket of angst haha

Part 2 will be linked here when it is up!

#sanders sides fic #sanders sides #one shot #logan sanders #Logan angst #sanders sides angst #self harm #ahhh my poor baby #vent #Roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #Janus sanders

45 notes · View notes

curious-menace · 3 years

Note

Can you do headcanons of any Riddler getting cared for and gentle kisses from reader after getting beat up? He needs some loves.

SO I MAY HAVE SUGGESTED THAT MY ULTIMATE FANTASY IS TO GIVE RIDDLER A HUG WITH BACKRUBS AS HE TELLS ME ABOUT HIS DAY AND I STAND BY THAT WHOLE-HEARTEDLY .

i freaking love this stuff so im going to do all of them mwahahah

post asswoop riddlers getting loves

Arkham riddler

He’s VERY quiet, which knowing him and his inability to stop talking, is bad news.

I paint arkham riddler as a cry baby and i stand by that. this is the hill i will die on. He’ll have dragged his sorry ass into your apartment or house , dripping blood on your floors but he wont bother calling for you. he’ll just sit at the table with his head in his hands having a lil pity party until you find him.

when you do finally get home, he’ll be looking like a kicked puppy. he’s gotten stuck in his own head, mentally beating himself up even more. he got a fright when you came in because he was so caught up he didn't even hear you at the door.

He’s literally sits there like a child with his arms up for you to come scoop him up. he’s not even sure why his first thought after getting beat up was to come here, he’s probably lead the cops here or something and that was so stupid and- you should probably give him a lil soft smooch on the head to stop him before he goes into a spiral.

he needs more emotional and mental care than physical. Talk to him while you're patching him up. any topic, it doesn't matter just keep him focused on your voice and not the one in his head calling him dumb.

he wont admit he wants to be held and coddled after something like this. get your softest blankie and 2 mugs of coco with marshmallows and just ramble at him. tell him about your day or ask him to explain something boring and complicated so he’s focusing on that rather than how upset he is. let him sit on your lap or between your legs on the sofa and watch how its made or mythbusters or something until he falls asleep. he should be ok again in the morning, he doesnt stay down for long.

Blacklight Riddler

He’s used to getting his ass kicked, either by batman, the other rogues or once he’s a PI, by unhappy clients and the people he put away. He might be tiny but he’s pretty tough.

even if he’s really hurting, his probably trying to crack jokes and tell blood and bruise related riddles. He doesn't like to see you worry so even if he’s in a lot of pain or a bit upset about things, he’s trying to make you smile.

he likes kisses on his bruises. even if he just banged his hand on the table he’ll come to you because he wants you to kiss it better.

He’s a decent fighter, unlike a lot of riddlers who couldnt fight their way out of a paper bag. He can throw punches but he lacks in defence and with his bad knee, dodging can be a little hard. even if he wins the fight he’s still likely to need you to patch him up.

He likes kids plasters. like hello kitty and spongebob. no im not joking, he ALWAYS wanted them when he was little and his parents always said no. now he’s an adult he’s going to use them whenever he damn well pleases.

if it was a particularly bad one, he’ll be ok in the moment even if he has to go to hospital. But he’s going to drop the facade at some point and let you see how upset he is. winding up in hospital after being beat was a common occurrence in childhood. even after doing it time and time again as an adult it doesn't make it any easier on him. he’ll want to stay in your bed, be close to you for few days until either he starts to heal or something snaps him out of his funk.

BTAS Riddler

he really prefers other people to do the fighting for him. well physically anyway. he can handle his own arguments...most of the time. He’s going to need you to nurse a bruised ego more than anything. he probably got dunked on my batman or crane and now he’s huffing.

i don't know if this counts as care and kisses but he clearly needs you around to keep his sorry ass alive. he hurt his side in a fight once and said he wasn't hurt. believable... until he started to act a little confused, a little dizzy. needless to say it worried you enough to take him to emergency care.

He was obviously in agony by now but he was still fighting with you the entire drive there, insulting you and insisting he was fine. its a good job you took him when he did, turns out he’d ruptured his spleen and would probably be dead if you weren’t around to act like his common sense.

he still hasnt apologised for that. or any of the other times you insisted on medical care to stop him from pushing up daisies. he just pretends like you know he’s grateful so he doenst have to admit he’s bullheaded, stubborn and worst of all, wrong.

if he has been seriously hurt, he acts more indignant about it than anything. he wants to be waited on and pampered while resting in bed. he can be a genuine pain to deal with, talking about how lucky you are to see him in such a vulnerable state and how you should be grateful he’s letting you do this for him.

He doesn't want to admit how much he actually needs you. his goons wont put up with him when he’s like this and he’s freaking paying them to do it. you do it for free and no matter how annoying he is you havent left him yet. he doesn't tell you but youve noticed he starts getting you more gifts about a week after he’s recovered. like its taken him a day or two to work out he should probably thank you for all you do.

Original Riddler

this riddler is just weird. like he gets a freaking hang nail and he pretends like he’s dying. but he could nearly lose a limb and he’ll say “tis but a scratch” and still try to hobble about like nothing is wrong.

actually he’s more like olaf “oh look i've been impaled.”. he probably tries to laugh off life threatening injuries like its nothing, taking maybe 3 steps before he collapses on his face in a blood puddle and lets out a tiny “help”

good luck moving his tall lanky ass around. better get a gurney and maybe those vets at the zoo who deal with giraffes. seriously if you want to take care of him you are going to need help or some sort of action plan and a go bag because with his limp butt this will not be easy.

he’s kinda like BTAS riddler in that he needs you to tell him the injury is serious. hes not dumb he just has a high pain threshold and genuinely doesn't realise that injuries are as bad as they are.

he can be a bit of a baby while being patched up. he doesn't like a lot of blood or gore, it makes him feel a little sicky. better give him your phone to play with like a kid at the doctors or put the tv on for him to watch while you bandage him. word of warning, he will pass out or throw up if you try to give him stitches.

i think you should focus your love and attention on him AFTER medical care. just focus on the job, be silent and as fast as possible to get it over with quickly. you should probably bring him something sweet too. no not just you, although you are sweet for looking after him. give him something sugary because he’s going to be light headed after seeing any blood. maybe you could give him a lolly for being a good patient.

Telltale riddler

this riddler is essentially a metahuman. he can REALLY take a beating and bounce back fairly quickly. just look how many times batman punched him in the face and it barely stunned him! he doesnt usually need patched up after a fight. maybe just a lil smooch and some hugs

he did really need your help after the whole pact thing. having his friends abandon him hurt like hell, more than any physical injury ever could.

after that, he clings to you. almost obsessively so; we know he’s got some serious mental illnesses but he usually has the worst of it under control, even without meds. now? it seems like he’s experiencing ptsd and is afraid to go anywhere without you, like you might up and disappear if you arent in his line of sight at all times.

i think this riddler might need the most intense care from you. hugs and gentle reassurance wont be enough. you’re going to be responsible for taking him to therapy, keeping him taking his meds and grounding him to reality. this is the kind of responsibility you took on when you got involved with him but i doubt you realised how hard it would be. i cant promise it will all be worth it but i can promise he wont ever forget your kindness.

the kind of care he needs after such a hard knocking down is just stability. im not one for romance or any mushy gushy stuff but please just pour your love into the cracks in this poor mans soul.

its hard going, but he has his moments. his gallows sense of humor is still there and hey, after him being in and out and gone for so long, it might be nice to have him around more.

Zero year riddler

INSUFFERABLE LITTLE SHIT THIS ONE. he could LITERALLY be bleeding out in your arms and he’d STILL be backseat driving on your medical skills. the temptation to just leave him there to bleed is INCREDIBLE.

he’ll drop the act eventually. he’ll ask and maybe even beg for your help. man has no shame and all the self preservation instincts of a lemming. dont get me wrong, he can be a total coward some times, only looking out for himself . but when he’s actually hurt ? not a fuckin clue. does this head wound need an ice pack or heat pack? is this spurring blood wound worthy of medical care? no idea. he was a very sheltered child who never got so much as a bruise so he has no idea what to do when he’s hurt.

he gets the everloving shit kicked out of him on a clockwork basis. like you could hear knocking on your door at 3 am and already be at the table with a first aid kit like oh its tuesday riddler must have broken his nose.

he takes entirely too much joy in making you patch him up. youre starting to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose just to see you in your little apron and latex gloves . he’s getting off on this and you know it but god help you, you just cant resist his dumb face asking for your help and would you also wear this pink nurses outfit while youre at it?

one time he lost a LOT of blood. he would be fine but he was pretty damn loopy from lightheadedness. while you were trying to get him into bed to rest he started flirting with you. can you believe the audacity? he’s lost 3 pints of blood and he’s still more focus on his libido?

he’s actually going to be both humble and grateful for your help when he finally comes round. dont get me wrong, he’s still a bit of a prick but at least he says thank you for saving him before he demands you kiss all his booboos and ouchies.

nonnie i am having a stroke. i was trying SO hard to just pick one but i COULDNT because i am WEAK for hurt and comfort.

theres a reason i have a tag that literally says “i have naughty hands and no self control”

someone needs to stage an intervention

got something you wana talk about? send me an ask or a dm! im always game to talk about our favorite curious menace 💚💜

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slut-for-mothman · 3 years

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Hell is For Children

Requested: Yes|No

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid

A/N: Special thanks to @oliverbrnch for editing this chapter and making it into what is is !!! I hope you all enjoy my first CM fanfiction !!!

Summary: After 13 years of trying to forget the man he was supposed to call his father, Spencer finds his phone riddled with messages from his father trying to catch up on "old times". He's met with criticism and shame when he reveals he has no want to talk to him. Everyone seems to think his father deserves a second chance. Everyone except for him. Aaron Hotchner. Logically it made no sense, Aaron had a kid of his own, would he not sympathize with his father for wanting to have a relationship with his son? Spencer finds comfort in the older man. Everytime his phone buzzes with a notification from William Reid, Aaron is always there to comfort him and distract him from the burning hole in his back pocket.

Chapter warnings: Angst, allusions to physical abuse. descriptions of violence and gore, swearing, and I think that's it.

Chapter One

December 16th, 5:15pm

"Hey son, I haven't seen or heard from you in a while. I hope you're doing okay."

Seeing that message was enough to twist the young doctors stomach in such intricate and painful knots he thought he might become violently ill.

"A while?" Spencer muttered to himself as he reread the message over and over. "it's been thirteen years, that's more than a while-"

A second message interrupted his train of thought.

December 16th, 5:27pm

"Why don't you come over sometime? My wife would love to see you, just something to think about..."

This message made something inside him break, the world shattering as his knees failed him. He swore he felt time stop as he reread those nauseating characters.

Wife? Since when was he remarried?

'Does she even know what he did to my mom, to me?' Spencer wondered, unable to tear his eyes away from his phone.

Does she even know she left a ten-year-old alone with his mentally-ill mother? Did she know what a selfish bastard he was?

Did they have kids?

Were they really that easily replaced?

Spencers mind was spinning, his apartment floor unsteady underfoot as his vision blurred. Tears stung his eyes, threatening to slip down his cheeks if he dared to blink.

His misery was interrupted as his phone buzzed once more in his palm.

Thankfully, it wasn't from the dreaded unsaved number, just Hotch.

December 16th, 7:14pm

"We have a case."

Spencer gathered his things, wiping the tears from his eyes on the cuff of his sleeve. He'd never been more grateful to hear those four words in his entire life.

His ride on the metro felt infinitely slower than normal, much to the young doctors dismay. The extra free time gave his mind permission to run away from his as much as it pleased.

His phone vibrated again and again with more messages from the unsaved number, each one more hostile and manipulative than the next when Spencer glanced at the device.

December 16th, 7:23pm

"Will you at least give me an answer? I know I screwed up, but that was a long time ago! I have a right to get to know my son."

December 16th, 7:25pm

"Imagine how I feel, not knowing my son has 3 PhD's and having to find out from my ex-wifes nurse. You're not the only one suffering here kid, remember that."

Spencer snapped his battered phone shut in frustration.

How did he even manage to make himself out to be the victim in this?

He's the one who left me.

'I don't owe him shit, not after what he did to me', Spencer thought furiously to himself, his knuckles white where they gripped his messenger bag.

'Maybe I should give him some kind of answer, let him know where he can stick-'

By the time the sentence popped into his head, his chest aching, he had reached his stop. Although cases weren't particularly a positive thing, anything was better than thinking about the man who had abandoned him and, subsequently, essentially ruined his entire life.

As soon as he stepped off the elevator and into the bullpen, he could feel his co-workers' eyes pierce right through him. It was almost like they could sense something was off with him the moment he entered Quantico.

Of course, while they were profilers, it's not like they were mind-readers.

He fled to the break room and poured himself a generous cup of coffee. He wanted to focus on what was important, which was certainly not the unread messages from a fetid man on his cellphone.

While pouring practically the entire container of sugar into his travel mug, he felt someone's hand touch his shoulder. He flinched slightly at the unexpected touch, and he turned to see Morgan, his eyebrows scrunched together in a confused and worried look.

"Slow down, kid. Have some coffee with your sugar." He said, his voice half-joking as he, presumably, tried to ease the tension practically emitting off of Spencer.

His phone vibrated once more from somewhere in his pockets, and Spencer's face twisted in fervent discomfort.

"Earth to Pretty Boy. You good?"

Spencer realized he was getting absorbed into his thoughts again and tried to brush it off with a quick sip of the sickly-sweet caffeinated concoction in his hand and a quick nod.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking." as if Spencer ever stopped thinking in the first place.

"Well, I'm here if you need anything, kid. But for right now, let's go find out about this case." Derek clapped Spencer on the shoulder again, which earned an instinctual flinch.

Instead of dwelling on that, Derek and Spencer strode towards the conference room, where everyone else had already begun piling in ad Garcia and Prentiss introduced them to their present case.

"Three men were found dead on the streets of a Nevada strip mall last night," Garcia began, pulling up the crime scene photos onto the screen.

Spencer flipped through the folder that was handed to him, scanning over the photos while distantly listening to the rather gruesome but ultimately unhelpful details Prentiss and Garcia were describing.

All three men had one of their fingers removed, yet their wedding bands were later found in their stab wounds upon closer investigation. They were all three found in close proximity to different hotels and known "lover's lanes".

The incessant vibrations and noise emitting from the dreaded device in his pocket was enough to make Spencer have a brain aneurysm.

He retrieved the phone from his pocket only to switch it off and shove it into the deep depths of his messenger bag. It wasn't necessary for a plane ride anyway.

His sudden movements earned him a few more concerned glances, but their attention was quickly diverted as Prentiss announced, "Wheels up in 30." effectively dismissing the team to get their things.

Spencer was restless the entire plane ride. It was only thirty minutes into the trip, with an hour and ten minutes left.

Normally, he'd be playing chess or even reading, but neither of those things seemed to tempt him, as all he could think of were the numerous messages probably flooding his discarded phone banished to the bottom of his messenger bag.

The last message he'd read replayed repeatedly in his mind like some awful alarm.

'Imagine how I feel...'

It made fiery anger swirl in his chest.

He could imagine how he felt. Because the pain William Reid inflicted before he finally left was enough to make Spencer understand what it was like to be sent to Hell and back, if such a place existed.

The memory of watching his own father leave his house at age 10 was enough to make him feel nauseous. His father leaving was the final stake through the young man's heart.

The physical pain, he could probably forgive him for. He would never forget, but maybe he could understand.

But leaving your young on to care for his mentally-ill mother? After all the pain he put him through, that kick while Spencer was already down was a new low.

For all Spencer cared, the man could rot. It was almost funny, thirteen years of healing down the drain with just a few text messages.

Once again, Spencer was ripped from his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder, It was Hotch, with a guarded but concerned look on his face.

"You've been way too quiet; is everything alright?"

'No', Spencer thought to himself. But he couldn't admit he wasn't okay, especially not before a case. More important things needed to be tended for than his own "daddy issues".

"I'll be okay," Spencer settled for. "Just some weird stuff has been happening lately. It's nothing I can't take care of, though."

It didn't dissuade Hotch's concerned look. If anything, it intensified the worry Spencer found there.

"Is it your mother? Is she alright?" He asked, leaning forward with furrowed eyebrows.

"She's okay! I actually just called her the other night," Spencer assured him. He bit his lip and gripped his messenger bag. "It's actually, uh, my dad. He's been messaging me, and I haven't spoken to him in thirteen years."

"Are you okay? Have you messaged him back any?" Hotch asked, releasing the worried lines on his forehead.

"I haven't, yet. I figured I'd wait until the case was over. That way, there's nothing in the way." Spencer explained, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as his eyes darted around the jet cabin.

Hotch must have picked up the signal to wrap up the conversation, because he gently reminded the young man that he could talk to him whenever he needs to, or just whenever he wants to.

Spencer smiled and inclined his head slightly. "Thanks, Hotch."

"It's not a problem, Reid. Now, let's get back to work."

Spencer flicked through the gruesome photos once more, the swirling anger in his chest dwindling for the first time since his phone at first pinged with that dreaded message.

For once, Spencer was able to completely forget about the slightly outdated phone burning a hole in the bottom of his messenger bag.

#spencer reid #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #hotchreid #aaron hotchner x spencer reid

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kayzume · 4 years

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Pairing: Android!Tendou Satori x SicklyF!Reader

Genre: Angst-ish

TW: Character Death (non gore)

WC: 1.7k

Note: Rushed...very. This is my contribution to Haikyuu HQ server collab and my very first time joining one, so I’m uh nervous af. I hope this was sufficient enough:)). Lots of talented writers and artists are participating so make sure to check the masterlist right here

Also: Mama @prismaroyal thank you so much (T^T)..what would I do without you🥺!! @shinrurie and @yacoka thanks for hyping me😳😭

Back to Masterlist

"Is X00 ready?" your father spoke in a low voice.

He looked at you and smiled "just a little bit more my angel, dad is gonna give you the companion of a lifetime" he told you gently.

"If I even have a lifetime dad," you told him weakly and he gave you this mourning look "y/n don't say such words!" he said to you while shaking his head. He crouched down to your level and caressed your face "I'm gonna make sure that this droid will help you recover, it's not over yet please have more faith in yourself, you'll be fine, you'll get better and-" he sighs then grasps your hands lightly "and we'll be together for a long long time."

You knew that your father was grasping on his false hopes of you getting better. If somebody looks at you in your current state they would surely figure out that your gravely ill, your skin has lost its regular healthy appearance, your eyes were sunken.Your father is a scientist, he's done a lot to help you recover. He tried inventing various ways, medicines, and such to help your gravely ill body to become healthy, but to this day, nothing. None of your father's hard work barely made an impact on you. It always ends up on him getting upset that none of them is helping until today that is.

"He's X00, he will be your companion from now on, he's modeled after caretakers and nurses I'm sure he will be a good factor for your health" your father exclaimed while smiling widely. You shift your sights from your dad to 'X00' he was tall and kind of lanky, with wild red hair and mysterious red eyes, for an android, his eyes seemed so full of life, a clear contrast from yours, which appeared lifeless even for a young girl such as yourself? he was staring at you and you felt weird, like his gaze pierced into your soul itself. Shaking the thought, you stared back at him and he blinked. Wait did he just blink? "He can- h-he blinked, at me!" you told your father incredulously, but he only laughed at your surprised reaction.

"Well of course he can, he was built to act completely human, how else would he be able to sympathize with you if he can't?" your father said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'll leave you to him so you can get to know him" he continued not leaving time for you to say something. You sighed in defeat at the realization that you are now stuck with a mecha humanoid that's just standing there, staring at you silently. Your father must be kidding, how in the world are you supposed to communicate with a metal piece of junk. You were never a fan of technology in the first place, always believing they were a pain and they stole a lot of your father's time. You looked back at 'X00' he doesn't look half bad if you bypass his blood red eyes “You-" you tried starting, but then you started coughing vigorously, it was painful to say the least noticing bits of blood on your hanky, you decided speaking is not the best idea at the moment. He looked clearly worried and you averted your eyes in response, away from his face. You closed your eyes and faced the other side of the lab overlooking the garden, but when you opened your eyes he was there crouched in front of you, staring.

"What the fuck!" you exclaimed startled, a hand to your pounding heart.

Then suddenly you felt a hand to your head making its way to caress your cheek tenderly, it was him. He looked extremely gentle for someone who doesn't have a real heart, you happen to look away only to take notice of your hand now resting on his other hand, something you didn't even notice. You peeked at his face, he was sporting a sweet smile, and you feel the hotness creep all the way from your neck to your face. You lightly try to pull your hand back "Oh uhm give my hand back please" you squeaked. He let go of your hand and proceeded to the back of your wheelchair, slowly pushing your way out of the lab "D-do you have a name? b-besides from X00?" you asked dumbly. Of course, he doesn't, he was only activated today "How about I give you one?" He didn't answer, so you opted to stay quiet as well. How exactly is he supposed to help you when he doesn't even talk?!

Time passes by the two of you and he's slowly acknowledging you. It feels like you're teaching a chick how to speak, rather than him caring for you, it was the other way around. Every time you are to spend time with your mother and father, he would be taken away by your father's attendants, claiming that time with the family was for the family alone, you always missed the forlorn look painted in his eyes. The first time that it happened it took you solid 10 minutes to reassure him that you'd only be apart for a short while. You might not admit it to anyone, but being around him slowly makes you feel at ease and surprisingly you could feel more energy surging through your body. As crazy as it is his presence gave more to you than necessary, and you're loving every bit of it disregarding the fact that being with someone like him is impossible. He understood you and stood by you regardless of what is and whatnot. You were thankful for him being a shoulder to lean on and just for being your friend.

Today, you and X00 will be picking out some flowers. Your mother had said that the air outside mixed with the flowery aroma will help you breathe better and upon hearing such, X00 ushers you both out immediately, you have regained your footing all thanks to X00. Though he barely speaks he always makes your day by humming a specific tune, It was your inspiration to be able to walk again, to be able to dance along with his beautiful music. You knew in the short time that you were together that something changed, you weren't able to pinpoint what it was exactly, but it's definitely there looming over you.

Some things were starting to feel different, the innocent looks turned to something more when it's just the two of you, for you at least. You try to brush off the feelings evidently growing on you as time passes by, you always have to remind yourself "y/n he's a metal junk, he doesn't do feelings" after you're mini realization you fought back the forthcoming tears, but to no avail. You looked up at the sky, asking whoever was up there in heaven, "why me, why us?"

"I" he started, making you look at him "Hmm?" You urged him to continue

"I want...I want a name" he said. The gesture stirred something heart-warming in your chest, but before you could even give him a response, you felt a sudden chill in your back and slowly you feel your world begin growing dark.

Murmurs, murmurs, and more murmurs. You can hear voices but all words seem to be incoherent.

"How is she?" a voice you recognized as your mother's, you can already imagine her pacing around the room by the sound of her concerned voice. She was the type to fret over everything.

"It's not looking good" you presume was your father's, as he gave an exasperated sigh. You thought why was everyone so gloomy? what is happening?

You slowly opened your eyes to the blinding white lights "ugh" you let out in pain. Why does everything hurt? What is with all these tubes and wires stuck on you? You know what was going on. Deep down you knew, but you decidedly keep on rejecting the idea of you passing. You thought if you leave now, how is he gonna keep going, and for what? The thought of him made you snap.

"WHERE IS HE?!" you screamed startling your parents.

"y/n calm down, sweetie," your mother said while rubbing your back to calm you down "stressing will only make things worse, hmm" as if on cue you felt a sharp pang course through your body "Argh!" you yelped in pain, "hah..hah...hah" you started breathing heavily, the pain is starting to become unbearable, "Mom it hurts...so much" you clung to her as if it will make things any better. Your face is scrunching in pain, tears are starting to sting your eyes. Your mother was cradling you in her arms, you can feel her shaking. She was crying silently and it makes things extra clear for you, This is the end.

You calmed yourself down and pulled away from your mother. You looked her in the eyes and stated "I want to see him, mom, for the last time, please" you pleaded with her. She kissed your forehead and gave you a comforting hug. You both knew that this meant goodbye and it was hard to let go. Your father couldn't stand to look at you so helplessly that he decided to leave without saying goodbye. It was for the best you thought. The door screeched open, he stood before you. He looks forlorn as if something was taken away from him. "Come" you signaled him to come closer, he scooted next to you. You caressed his face, memorizing every inch, "I- I want you to remember that even though it was only a short period of time that I was with you, I have loved every single aspect there is about you. I remembered you stating that you wanted a name, hmm, your name shall be Tendou because you were heaven's grace to me" you whispered. "You may not be able to feel love, but remember that this heart has only beaten for you." you continued leaning close to put his hands near your heart, with a longing look you placed a loving kiss on his forehead.

You gave him one last smile, "Farewell, Tendou"

Tendou cradled your lifeless body against his, berating himself over not being able to shed a tear. Deep inside him he was praying, “In our next life we’ll be together, I promise” feeling the heaviness in his heart “I loved you too”

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flutteringphalanges · 3 years

Photo

Summary: “Am I in Hell?” Agatha’s voice was hoarse, a hint of fear in her tone. “That depends on your definition,” Dracula answered. “Perhaps.” His fingers felt cool against her burning skin, the fever raging through her body. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it,” she mumbled. The count chuckled, gazing into her eyes. “On the contrary,” he smirked. “I’m going to save you.”

((In which Dracula cares for a gravely ill Agatha))

Characters: Agatha Van Helsing/Dracula

Rating: M

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Well it’s been several months! Hope you guys haven’t forgotten about this little fic! I won’t keep you waiting too long! I highly suggest you read the second author’s note which can be located at the end of the chapter on either FFN or AO3 if you have any questions! With that said, feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! Huge thanks to @mitsukatsu for always letting me bounce ideas off of her! Thanks, girl! Hope ya’ll enjoy! -Jen

Chapter Thirteen

Though the sky was shrouded in near darkness, the full moon peaked through just enough to illuminate the scattered clouds that blanketed the night. It was eerie to say the least and even Agatha, despite what she now was, stuck close to Dracula as they made their way down an off-beaten path towards the small village. If her still heart could, it would be beating with such ferocity that her very chest would've felt the crushing blow of each throb.

"You're awfully quiet." Her mate commented, offering his hand as they stepped over a log. "You have nothing to fear. It is quite a simple process and I assure you that I would not allow any harm to come to you."

"That's not what I'm afraid of you." Agatha said quietly. "I am not worried about my sake."

"Then what?" The Count inquired, stopping them both in their tracks. "This isn't about your moral standards is it, Agatha? We've discussed this on numerous occasions. I only wish what is best for you. I think in time you will see that. How much, I cannot promise, but it will get easier." He smiled gently and tilted her chin to press his lips to hers. "Come," he urged. "Let us not wait. Time seemingly moves much faster than one would presume."

Part of her wanted to say something. Outright deny any participation in this immoral act. But perhaps it was her selfish love for him that even made her consider the possibility. Why was romance so damn desirable? Holding her in a vice grip where eternity with her former enemy was a far more pleasant option than being without? Was this love sickness? Could he feel the same way? That only made it worse. The former nun sighed, trying to clear her head of such thoughts. So much had happened in these past few months. Her skull hurt and she wasn't quite sure if it was due to her fall or just the strain of it all.

"Ah! We're here!" The excitement in Dracula's voice pulled the former nun from her thoughts. She looked to the vampire, his teeth glinting in what little moonlight shone from the clouds. "It's right outside the city of Brașov, secluded enough that we shouldn't be bothered." He reached down and gave her hand a squeeze. "Fear not," he murmured. "I will be right by your side guiding you the entire time." Though his words offered little relief.

The village was nothing special, far from appeasing to the eye. It was small, perhaps used at most for those passing through or people making just enough to get by. Agatha absentmindedly dug her nails into the palm of her hand, feeling their newly found strength press indents into the skin. Dracula was speaking to her, but his words sounded so distant as she took in her surroundings. As a greater part of her wanted to turn back and return to the castle, an unexpected sight captured her immediate attention.

"No, please! I'm begging you! Leave me be!"

From the entrance of an alleyway, a woman stumbled backwards, her hands outstretched as if in some poor attempt to protect herself. Agatha stepped forward instinctively, but found her mate's arm outstretched in front preventing her from going forward.

"Wait." He said quietly. "Allow this to play out."

Agatha threw him a look of horror about to protest when a stranger strode out from the shadows something glinting in his hand. Without warning, the figure slashed the object at the woman's neck causing a gurgling choke of surprise to escape past her lips. Something sweet filled the air. The scent was more alluring than any blossom the former nun could remember smelling. Blood. Fresh blood. Human blood.

Whizzing, the lady collapsed on the ground, too weak to ward off the man as he began to dig through what little satchel she carried. Finally snapping from her trance, Agatha looked in horror at the sight before her. At the intense feelings that bombarded her mind after witnessing what she had just seen. How both her former and immortal sides were battling against her sanity.

Agatha's eyes remained locked on the man's as he stood unmoved just meters from her. With her new found abilities, even in the nearly moonless night, she could make out the thick, crimson liquid as he dripped down the shimmering blade. It was almost teasing. Watching it fall to the ground below where it became soiled by dirt.

"What are you waiting for?" A voice coaxed softly from behind, its excitement barely masked. "Go, I'll follow."

Yet Agatha's attention was not drawn to Dracula. Instead, her gaze briefly flickered to the figure lying nearly lifeless off to the robber's side. The woman's hands wearily grasped at the deep slash drawn across her throat as her life blood gushed between her fingers. An easier prey, she knew, but not one of good consciousness. If the former nun was to kill, then there had to be a reason.

"Two for the price of one." She heard Dracula say from behind. "The girl is merely a mercy kill."

They had different ideas about compassion, and the younger vampire's attention redirected once more to the man. The soon to be murderer. If it could, her blood would be boiling. A strange emotion began to fill her. Almost primal in nature. Her smooth teeth began to shift as she took a step forward towards the thief.

"Stay-stay back!" The man warned, swinging his knife shakily between Dracula's and Agatha's direction. "I'm warning you!"

But Agatha's ears no longer heard the desperate, empty threats. Nor did she feel the anticipation of her mate by her side. Instead, she lunged forward and knocked the man to the floor. Predator finally becoming prey.

Fangs cut through soft flesh like a spoon through room temperature butter. Instantly a flood of hot, sweet liquid coated her tongue and flowed down her throat in deep, hungry gulps. Agatha wasn't sure what she had been expecting. As a child, she'd once fallen and bitten straight through her bottom lip. Through the pain, the blood had tasted salty. Unpleasant. But now, here where she feasted, it was like honey straight from the comb. This wasn't the putrid taste from animal gore. No. No, this was far, far delectable.

"Agatha."

A hand clamped down on her shoulder but Agatha ignored it, choosing instead to keep suckling away at whatever remained of her victim. The grip, though gentle, tightened slightly causing an unanticipated low grumble to escape from deep within the former nun's throat. Finally, she sat up, blood dripping unceremoniously down her chin. She blinked, slightly confused for a moment as she began to take in her surroundings once more. Dracula smiled fondly at her, an almost proud sort of expression. Agatha blinked again and, looking from the dead man to her lover, quickly wiped away at her chin in slight embarrassment.

"I must admit I am quite impressed." The Count mused, admiring her handy work. "You took to it much better than I had anticipated." He ran a hand through her hair, his dark eyes flickering away from the body. "Now might I interest you in some dessert?"

The blood that bubbled around the entry wound on the woman's neck was already blackening with clots when Agatha arose to her feet. With great care, the younger vampire made her way over, careful not to step on the crumpled body. The lady gazed up at her with grey, uncertain eyes, each breath more raspier than the prior. Perhaps she didn't see the act Agatha had just committed, or was too out of it to even fully absorb what had occurred.

"Scared…" It was about all Agatha could clearly make out. "Please…"

Ignoring what Dracula could possibly be thinking, his Bride gingerly sat on the ground and cradled the woman like one does a babe. Her skin was grey, cold as what little blood left stuck to Agatha like a paste. A waste, she knew, but her own needs were none of her current concerns. She held the woman close, as best as one could for both being around the same height.

"There is nothing to fear." The former nun said softly, her eyes locked onto the woman's. "Soon there will be no pain. No horror. Be at peace with your Savior. Go now with God."

Her pulse stopped and Agatha watched the woman's chest rise and fall one more time before all with still. Gently, she closed both eyelids, covering the irises that reflected the moonlight like glass. She turned her head to see Dracula watching her, his expression hard to read. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she lowered the woman back down onto the ground and rose to her feet.

"She didn't deserve to die like that." Agatha finally said, not turning to meet the vampire's gaze. "No matter what you say, I made the right call."

The Count exhaled. "I take it you know your way enough to start walking back towards the direction of the castle?" Agatha merely nodded and Dracula cleared his throat. "Well, I suppose then I'll clean up for tonight. We can make that a lesson for another day." He smiled, trying to lighten the tension. "You did well, Agatha. Give yourself some credit. We'll have to celebrate amongst ourselves."

Dracula kissed her cheek and Agatha forced a small smile. She tried not to look at the two bodies as her mate gave her hand a small squeeze. Though she physically hadn't felt this great in a long while, the repercussions of what she had done had struck her hard.

Honestly, she quite yearned for the vampire's company as she followed the trail that led back to their home. Right now, the idea of being alone wasn't all that pleasant. Then again, crushing the chest of a human to prevent it from turning was far less appealing. So she went by memory, trying to push past what she had done until the castle was in sight.

"Foolish, foolish…" She thought to herself, the brush and stone crunching under her feet. "Just let it slip away. If there is some higher power that thinks I have done some good enough to deserve the least bit of mercy, allow me to forget for a few precious moments."

A humorless chuckle escaped from between her lips. At least Dracula hadn't called her out on her biblical speech. That had taken her by some surprise. But as a nun, the dying always seemed calmed by the idea that God awaited for them with open arms and complete, forgiving nature. She hadn't quite understood that. Then again, she hadn't quite understood much of that the more she considered it.

A pair of arms wound themselves around her waist just as Agatha reached the top of a hill. Dracula pressed his face into the crook of her neck and inhaled. She could smell the heavy scent of blood on him, though it was far from pleasant. Corpse blood never did have the same effect she was beginning to pick up.

"You walk too terribly slow." He murmured against her skin. "If I were a fox and you were a rabbit, you'd be dead."

"Always lovely with your analogies." Agatha snorted, rolling her eyes. "And we both know I'm too wise to be a rabbit." She paused, hesitation in her voice. "Is it done?"

"As I've said before," Dracula turned the former nun so that she now faced him. "You are my true bride. I have no intention to turn others." Her eyes narrowed, pressing him for a better form of confirmation. "Yes. You have nothing to worry about." The Count exclaimed, admiring her in the moonlight. "Have I told you how ravishing you look tonight?"

Forget. Forget. Agatha gazed up into his dark eyes, taking in the lust and excitement that they held. She could taste the thief lingering on her tongue. Feel the dried blood from the innocent woman against her skin and on her clothes. Forget. Forget. She wanted to block it out. And here stood Dracula. Completely unaware, far too focused on what he thought was right. Was okay. In that moment, she needed him to help her forget. Wanted him to make her forget.

"Then show me." She whispered, his eyebrow quirked in surprise as she moved his arms to the straps of her dress. "You tell me I'm exquisite, but words have no meaning over actions." Agatha locked eyes with him. "Take me here. Right now."

Dracula's lips curled into a smile. "I did not realize how much tonight meant to you."

A blur of emotions. A tidal wave of feelings. Agatha bit her lower lip, glancing once at the night sky before back at her lover. They still had time. A few hours before dawn. They'd make it back. She just needed to be distracted. If just for a little while. Forget.

Agatha forced her second smile of the night. "Then let me show you."

#Dracula #Dracula 2020 #Dragatha #Agatha Van Helsing #BBC Dracula #Dracula x Agatha #Bad Moon Rising

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anarchy-n-glitter · 3 years

Text

Nothing to Fear

Summary:

Lake County, Colorado

2011

JJ's been located in the asylum. Dr. Crane steps deeper into the monster's den.

(Warnings: Gore, implied torture, referenced self harm)

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

CHAPTER 6

She wanted to cry. She saw him, sitting alone in a cell and she was sure he was unaware of their watching eyes. Trager stood next to her, his hand on her hip to keep her close. This whole situation, she had determined, was a way to show his power over her. She wouldn’t let him do this to her, though, nor would she allow him to do this to the people she loved. By the end of tomorrow night, he’ll be the one sitting in that cell.

J.J. was staring at the wall blankly, facing them, and she could see the horrible, bloody wounds around his mouth. She was reminded of what Trager said to her when they made that deal, how J.J. was admitted due to a “meltdown,” and she assumed he ended up hurting himself. She glanced at Trager from the corner of her eye. She didn’t trust him one bit, and for some strange reason she had no doubt that he had something to do with this. She had never seen J.J. so lifeless, even when he was in Arkham he was lively and trying his best. Here he looked like he was comatose. His vivid green eyes that were usually bright and full of life were dull and stared blankly at the wall, and she knew someone had hurt him.

“I want him transferred to Arkham back in Gotham.” She stated, loud enough and forcefully enough for Trager to understand that she was going to get what she wanted, whether he did it or she did.

“His doctor’s there and she can help. We can’t treat him here and you know it.” She continued. His grip on her tightened and he seemed to bring her closer to him. He was silent, thinking probably. She could see his face in the reflection and he seemed less than pleased. She knew he could see her too, but that didn’t stop her. Suddenly, a smirk broke out on his face.

“Come to my place after dinner tomorrow and you got yourself a deal.” He offered, and Dr. Crane felt her heart speed up. She knew she was in dangerous territory, and now she had to negotiate her way out of it. After Michelle’s story, there was no way she’d go back to his house.

“Make it my apartment.” She stated, and she watched his eyes widen. He arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by her boldness.

“Oh? What’s wrong with my place?” He asked, though she was sure he’d be fine with going to her apartment instead. Either way, he thought he was getting laid, it didn’t matter the setting.

“It’s up to you, really. I’d just rather we go to my apartment.” She explained. She made sure she kept her face blank, or even made it seem like she was mildly interested in the conversation.

“Alright, fine. Your place it is.” He finally agreed. Mentally, she felt herself decompress. If he continued to be so stubborn she had no choice but to reveal what she knew, yet, she didn’t want to do that. The information revealed to her was integral and she knew she couldn’t show all of her cards at once. If she was going to show that she was truly in control, then she would have to wait. She would have to wait until he was at her mercy, begging to be released from whatever bind he was in. Hell, maybe she’d make him fall in love with her - if that was even possible - and then she’d reveal the truth. The whole truth. That she could never love a man like him, and (hopefully) he’d be locked away for what he did.

“I’ll tell Blaire about the transfer request, I’ll say it came from that new girl… your assistant, what was her name again? It’s something that starts with a D, right?” Trager asked, though she felt like he was stalling. Other than how that was obviously a bad idea, she disagreed because she feared him targeting Dr. Dawes after her. She wouldn’t be shocked, after all, she was younger than her, and shorter, and she had blonde hair and bright green eyes. She was stunning, and the creep that currently held Cat like a lover would have to have noticed her. There was no doubt he would go after her. Not only that, but she was young and impressionable, she was new too, which would give him even more power over her than he ever held with Michelle and Cat.

“Dr. Dawes? No, she’s too close to me. They’d suspect I put in the request the moment they confront her. Just skip the middleman and say I did it, after all, I knew his doctor, I know who can treat him.” She stated calmly, and she could have sworn she saw him thinking, saw him putting the pieces together, and it made her sick.

“Alright, whatever you say Cat.” She remained calm, her face stoic.

He pushed a few molars around in the palm of his hand, completely fascinated by how the light reflected off of the bright, white teeth. He had cleaned them off to the best of his abilities, though he was sure his buyers wouldn’t mind. They were more than capable of removing any evidence that someone could trace back to him and Mount Massive, though maybe that’s what they’d want. In order for that to happen though, they had to be caught, and they wouldn’t want that.

He was getting a pretty penny for ol’ Jack Jr.’s teeth, and the less Cat Crane knew about that, the better. As it turned out, J.J. showing up that day was a godsend. He had a history of mental illness, though his files said nothing about self harm he knew from his experience working in the asylum that a mental breakdown could trigger an extreme reaction like that. J.J. was the perfect person to do that to, and he served a few other purposes. He needed teeth for his buyers, and he needed Cat’s attention, something he could hold over her for a little bit until she was desperate. He succeeded in that.

For some strange reason, he felt like she was someone who could understand him. He thought this the moment he laid eyes on her, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. He enjoyed the little game they played, where she acted like she despised him when he knew that deep down, she was as fascinated by him as he was with her. Yes, he did hope things would go his way tomorrow night, and he would absolutely love to just do his thing and leave her behind, but he was coming to the realization that he just couldn’t. If he were to have her, there would be no going back, he wouldn’t be able to get rid of her if he tried, even if she wanted nothing to do with him in the end.

They were people of science, after all, and while he was a doctor in everything but name, he felt she could complete him in that sense. Under all that cold, bitter attitude, he knew she was just as unhinged and violent as he was. He was the antithesis of everything she was, and that’s what he liked about her. She wasn’t like him, but he could tell that at their very cores, they were the same. He wanted to show her that.

Deep down, he wanted to believe she’d be lost without him.

Blaire strolled into his office, making Trager curl his hand into a fist, hiding the teeth from his friend. While he was sure he knew about his little “business,” Trager didn’t want to risk anything. To be honest, he wasn’t in much of a talking mood at the moment. He wanted to clear his mind and get ready to bring the teeth to his customers, and he wanted to think about his next move. That was the thing with Cat Crane, when he thought he was ahead, she was only a step ahead of him. It didn’t take much to change that little pattern, but he hadn’t gotten as far as he wanted to. She was still able to take control of her situation - and he knew it was a situation she wasn’t fond of - and turn the tables on him. Now he was stuck having to improvise.

On one hand, he’d now know where she lived, but on the other… there was no way in hell Cat was gonna let him anywhere near her willingly.

“You’re coming tomorrow, right?” Blaire asked after what felt like forever. In reality, it had only been a moment. Trager was stuck in his own head that day, but it was something that couldn’t be helped.

“Yeah, totally, bud. Don’t worry. You won’t believe who I got to go out with me.” He told him, leaning forward with a wide smile on his face. Blaire scoffed.

“Ugh, don’t tell me it’s that weird broad you’ve been bothering for the past few weeks.” Blaire rolled his eyes at the thought of it. There was no doubt Trager blackmailed the new doctor into going, and he was sure the fallout of his terrible decisions would end up hurting the company. He warned him when they first hired Dr. Crane, but he knew Trager wouldn’t listen.

“Oh yeah, it’s her alright. That guy I had you admit was the bait.” Blaire glared at his friend.

“Ricky,” he began sternly, moving closer to the nonchalant man’s desk. “Don’t tell me that’s why you had me do that.” When Trager didn’t answer, Blaire knew he was right.

“Oh god this is gonna be terrible for the company.” Blaire muttered, running his fingers through his thin, greasy hair.

“Come on, Jer. I made sure he didn’t know it was me. If he does know, he won’t figure it out for a while. Cat wants him transferred back to Arkham, but if you really don’t trust it we can just send someone with him.” He practically watched the small man’s face grow red.

“Oh? And who the hell would that be.” Trager stopped to think about this, before the image of the small, blonde doctor came to mind.

“Dr. Dawes.”

“She’s new, but she’s been around Dr. Crane’s experiments. Too risky.” Trager shook his head.

“If you think Arkham isn’t crawling with corruption too, buddy, then you have another thing coming.” Trager answered, his tone bordering on threatening.

“I assume you’ve done your research?” Blaire asked, and Trager nodded. With a sigh, Blaire finally agreed, leaving Trager’s office shortly after, leaving the man alone with his thoughts and teeth again.

#outlast x reader #outlast fanfic #richard trager x catarina crane #richard trager x oc #richard trager x reader #richard trager #dr catarina crane #outlast oc #nothing to fear #enemies to lovers

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 57 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths. RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

“My King.” Loki forced himself out of his thoughts and looked around at his mate. Seeing the polite and kind smile on her features, he smiled back slightly. “What is worrying you?”

Loki sighed. “It is all under my watch now. Anything that happens, I must oversee it, work those it affects through it.”

“You do not have to do it alone, you have your brothers by your side, Arden, your father, and if all else fails, you perhaps can resort to talking to me.”

Loki could not prevent the little huff at her comment. “You know you are at the top of any list of those I would rely on.” He looked over at her again. “Though I don’t think I will have to look far, will I?”

“I will be where you need me to be.” She placed her hand on his arm reassuringly. “It is my duty to assist you as much as I can.”

Loki’s brow knotted slightly at that statement. He wondered if she only wished to help him because of a sense of duty to the fact he was her mate. “Which duty is that?”

“The one where I do not want to be the one they all point the finger at when you turn into some power-hungry brute who thinks he can take on a Bigelsnipe barehanded and win before being gored to death.”

Loki’s face turned to one of horror at such a thought, he stared at Ella whose face was one of poised calm for all of a moment before she laughed. “I am jesting.”

“You are the picture of royalty the majority of the time, then you do that,” Loki growled.

“I like to keep things interesting,” Ella commented playfully. “I finally got to speak with my mother again.”

“I thought you said you were conversing with her through everything?”

“I was, but face to face is far nicer. She finds the difference in customs so difficult to grasp sometimes.”

Loki noted the change in Ella’s tone even before she did. “What concerns does she have?” In truth, Loki wanted to say something far more clipped about the Vanir born Aesir monarch but he remained neutral, knowing that by the manner in which Ella was speaking, she accepted the differences and arguing them on behalf of Jotunheim.

“About childrearing and childbirth mostly. In Asgard, the father being present is not the norm, you see.”

Loki knew that and found such a thought repulsive. Not assisting your significant other through such an even was too foreign for him to comprehend. “It is overseen by a Healer, like that one that came to attend to you when you were ill?”

“Correct, yes. To ensure both mother and child have immediate medical attention should they require it,” Ella explained.

Loki noted the apprehension in her features. “You wish for such?”

“No, I do not require such, I have learnt every spell I could to safely assist our child from me if things were to take a sudden turn for the worse.”

Loki shuddered at such a thought. It had, of course, occurred in the past that some dams died in childbirth but the size of Jotnar females to the size of infant’s birthed made it something of a rarity. Going by Ella’s comments and indeed the size of her growing stomach, it was clear that the child she bore was of considerable size and she was indeed lithe in comparison. “You fear something happening to you?”

“I just consider everything so that I am prepared for anything.”

“Your preparations for the more negative side of things always unsettle me.”

“Then my request for you to have a measure in place as a last resort in case all else fails is not going to go down well either,” Ella looked at Loki’s eyes to show her seriousness.

For a moment, Loki could not think of what she could see as a last resort, but then her eyes flickered to his wrist for a moment and horrified realisation came to him. His head shook side to side before he could even find his voice. “No.”

“Yes. if it’s me or him, choose him, please.” Ella’s voice, though small was filled with certainty. “Cut him out if you have to.”

“But you…?”

“I am talking the worst-case scenario, if I have something prepared for that, then I feel I can concentrate on more likely and important matters,” Ella explained. “I have no plans to die any time soon, especially when I have a son to raise.”

Loki studied her features. “You wish to raise him? I thought that on Asgard…?”

“Do you know what made me actually look forward to starting a new life here, away from everything that ever made sense to me?” Loki shook his head slightly, he had never figured out why she had been so willing to come to Jotunheim. “I was reading about how family units are here. I was startled by the multiple mates part at first, obviously, but then I read something that caught my attention and made me look forward to the life I was to lead. I read that the moment a child is born, it is held by its father who cuts the cord and holds it to his chest so it can learn his scent before being brought to its mother and is not taken from her. The only time they are parted is so the father can tend to it and give her some rest, but all three remain together for a time until the other mates are introduced and assist also, but she remains the primary caregiver.”

Loki did not say anything, this was by no means news to him, he knew full well what she was saying was entirely true of the ways of the realm.

“The thought of such, it sounded idyllic. Too good to be true. Even at the beginning, when you loathed me, when we only did what was required to create a child because it was demanded, the one thing that gave me comfort was that I would be the caregiver for the child that would come to be. That I would have them if I had nothing else.”

Loki felt his throat tighten at that confession. He never thought she would think in such a manner. He also recalled his thoughts at the beginning, when he forced himself to couple with her, how any child that came from such a union was to be removed immediately from her presence because of some preconceived notion in his mind that she could not possibly care for a child. Now, he realised that if that had occurred, it would truly have been a fate worse than death for her. “I thought initially that you would not be interested in such a role as a dam.” He felt it right to confess such, even if it led to something uncomfortable.

“Initially, we both thought a lot of things that were entirely wrong, didn’t we? Thankfully, with time and effort to look past such, we learnt that we were both wrong and we are all the better for it now. Or I think at least.”

“Are you admitting that you have been wrong in the past?” Not wanting to focus on the negatives of the past, Loki tried to lighten the mood once more.

“I am rarely wrong but I can be and more importantly, I can admit to such.” She smirked.

“I can admit to my wrongs,” Loki argued.

“Under pain of losing your position of heir to the throne and when you put another on their deathbed, perhaps. Try not to make them the only times you such. A good king admits his faults...in private only for the most part, of course.” She winked as she stated the last part.

“And only then to his closest confidantes, of course.” He smirked.

“But of course.” Ella smiled in return. Seeing the stress in his features fall slightly, she walked behind him, causing Loki to look at her curiously before she put her hands on his shoulders and dug her fingers into the muscles there.

At first, Loki found her actions hurt but when she continued, he realised that she was alleviating the tension in them, the tension that had been building for longer than he wished to admit to. His moan at her actions was somewhat guttural.

“Better?”

“Incredible,” Loki did not even attempt to say anything but the truth.

“You are not required for anything for a time. Lie on the bed and I will see what I can do to help with that.”

Though his shoulders were tender from her actions, Loki could not decline such an offer. He did as instructed and went to the bed where Ella instructed him to lie on his front before she got onto the bed behind him. Loki looked around worriedly but his worry was quickly removed when she placed her hands on his back and began to rub into the muscles there, her hands magically becoming lubricated with some sweet-smelling and soothing liquid while she did so. Loki wondered where Ella had learned such witchcraft. Her hands were soft and relaxing as they pushed into his aching muscles. He loved every moment of it as she focused on each area, the feelings of tension dissipating as she did so.

When Ella finished, she proudly looked at her mate resting comfortably and contently on the bed. “Better?”

“Much better.”

Ella laughd at Loki’s muffled voice as a result of his face being into the pillow. “Good, you are not needed anywhere so just relax.”

“If I am, send one of your doppelganger things.”

“Naughty, that is not how you should be thinking,” she admonished. “You are king now.”

“All I wish to think about right now is to rest with my mate by my side for a time.” He reached around until he felt her hand before urging her gently to lay onto the bed beside him. “That is even better.”

“Get some rest.” Ella urged. After a few moments, when Loki’s breathing was steady and it seemed like he was asleep, Ella studied his features carefully. Partly because she was studying them as she did their child’s to see what one’s he would inherit from his father, the other part because she simply liked acknowledging her mate was indeed quite handsome, if not slightly peculiar in relation to what she was used to from growing up. But in thinking that, she also knew part of his appeal was in his personality. Behind the austere man she met the day she was brought to Jotunheim, a caring and selfless creature resided, one who put his realm before himself. Smiling, she toyed with his hair for a moment before leaning over and pressing her lips gently to his temple. She was unsure why she did it. When she pulled back, she was startled to see Loki studying her face curiously, his eyes confused having been woken from his slumber by her.

She was about to apologise when he pulled her close to him, pressing their foreheads and noses together and sighing contently.

#loki #others #submission #Submitted fic #chapter 57 #wolfpawn #Pride and Prejudice

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thewalkingdead-fan101 · 4 years

Text

In This Hell Daryl Dixon X Reader Part 7/??

Hey guys! So chapter seven is here! Im not the best at writing, but like many other writers, I did try my best and I hope you like it! Also most of the streets I have written into this chapter I made up on the spot, so if there is an actual street by that name it was purely coincidental.

Warnings- Light smut?, General Walking Dead stuff, Blood, Gore, Swearing.

It had felt like forever, sitting outside of the door that separated Daryl and myself. Lori was still sitting beside me, which feels more constricting than not, not that I had the heart to tell her.

At this point, I have memorised each and every detail etched into the door. I looked over to where Lori sat next to me, one hand resting against her forehead, the other resting against my shoulder. I reached my hand over and placed it over her own and smiled softly as she turned her head. “Thank you.” I whispered. “Dont be stupid.” She responded, a small chuckle escaping her lips. The click of the latch received both of our attention, I looked back towards the door to see Rick emerge.

“Here.” Lori extended her hand to me. “Thanks.” I took her hand and nodded as she helped me up. I look at Rick, and he smiled softly. “He’ll be alright.” “Oh thank god.” I hugged him “Now god ain’t had nothing to do with it.” Shane walked out behind Rick.

Rick walked over to Lori and hugged his wife. “I’ll tell you what.” Shane paused, walking over to me. “That is one tough son of a bitch in there.” He pointed towards the door, bringing me into a hug. I rolled my eyes as I hugged him back. “Hershel is just giving him another look over.” I look up to my brother. “Its just to ensure that he doesn’t have any other injuries.” Rick added. I slowly nodded my head, and sat down in the single seat next to the door. Rick kissed his wife before leaving Lori, Shane and myself in the hallway as we waited for Hershel.

After waiting another ten or so minutes, Hershel exiting the room. “The bullet only grazed his head.” He paused. I stood up from the seat and nodded. “The arrow in his side went straight through, missed his important organs.” “He is okay other than that?” “That and a few bruised ribs, he will be fine, however I would recommend a resting period of a few days, But.” He paused, glancing at the door. “I don’t think that he would take that advice.” He continued. “He is a stubborn bastard.” I muttered, looking at the door nodding. “He is asleep, but you can go in and see him.” “Thank you so much Hershel.” I smiled and pulled him into a hug. I pulled back and smiled softly at him, before turning to the door, quietly entering the room.

The first thing I noticed when I entered the room was the small dresser by the window, and the cross hanging next to the door above the bed. Daryl was on the bed, peacefully sleeping on his side, mouth slightly parted as soft snores broke the silence of the room. I stood at the edge of the bed, unsure if I should sit on the side of the bed or bring in the seat from the hall. “Are ‘Ya just gonna stand there?” A rough mumble came from the bed, startling me from my thoughts. “You’re meant to be sleeping.” I sighed.

“How am I meant to sleep when ya always staring at me.” I sat down on the bed next to him, softly pushing his hair back. “Go back to sleep, you need to rest.” He only grumbled in response as he shook his head. “Nah, I can sleep when im dead.” “If you dont rest that could be sooner than you think.” “I’m fine.” He scoffed. I rolled my eyes. We spent a few moments just staring at one another, the small breaths from us both the only thing we could hear.

“What happened out there Daryl?” I sighed. He winced lightly as he propped himself up on his elbow, “Took one of them horses, damn thing near killed me.” He paused. “Got spooked by something, kicked me off.” He continued.

“Thats where the bruising came from Im guessing.” I spoke softly tracing the bruises that littered his torso. “Fell down the ridge, landed in the creek with my own arrow in me.” He motioned to his side, pausing as my eyes landed on the gauze.

“Took down a few walkers.”

“Daryl!” “I know what ya ‘bout to say. Im fine.” He stated.

I sighed softly shaking my head.

“What if you couldn’t get back? What then Daryl?” I asked. “Y’all woulda been fine, I don’t belong ‘ere anyway.” He shrugged. “How can you say that?” I asked pushing myself off of the bed.

I could feel his eyes boring into me as I paced back and forth.

“You say that you don’t belong here, but you do. You can even feed me more bullshit about how you don’t, I dare you.” I challenged. “if you did not come back, every single fibre of my being would be out there searching for you.” I paused.

I took a deep breath, turning to look at him.

“Look, wether you like it or not Daryl, I care about you, I care for you and nothing in this world will ever change that Dixon.�� He kept his eyes on me, watching my every move.

“Call me selfish, call me crazy, hell you can even call me dramatic! But a part of me would've died if you didn't come back.”

I paused for a brief moment as i tried to fight the tears.

Stupid, damn hormones.

“Stop working ya self up.” “Believe it or not, that isn’t an easy thing to do.” I sighed “why?” “Because im scared… im scared of losing you.” I paused.

I took a small step back.

“Im so damn scared, because for the first time in my life I have something to lose, someone.”

He continued to stare at me, staying silent as he listened to my rambling, as I started to pace once more.

“Im not trying to fight you Daryl. I just want you safe.” “I love ya..”

“I need you around, our baby needs you around. I-“

I paused, looking at him.

“What did you just say?”

“I love ya.” He shrugged.

“This isn’t something to joke about right now.” I sigh placing my hand against my forehead, rubbing my temple.

“I aint joking.”

“Daryl-“ I ran my hand over my face, before dropping it to my side. “Ya’ gonna say it back? Or do I need to go back ou-“ “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence Dixon.” I warned as he grabbed my hand and pulled me softly back to the bed.

I sat on the mattress and started to lay down.

My hands found his stubbled cheeks, our eyes connected and I drowned out the world for those crystal blue eyes. “I love you Daryl Dixon.”

I could feel his hands pull my face closer to his as we let reality fade away, the two of us escaping in the kiss.

Daryl rolled over to his back, gently pulling me with him.

We pulled apart as he grabbed the hem of my shirt, lifting it over my head and flinging it across the room, attacking my lips once again with his own.

He moved his hands down, across my body slowly, snaking them around my hips, lifting my body over his, leaving me to straddle him.

His hands gripped to my hips, not letting go, his nails leaving soft red crescent shaped indentations against my skin.

The skin on skin contact, his chest pressed against my own igniting a whirlwind of lust between us both.

I leant down and captured his lips in a deep kiss.

Daryls hands moved down to my ass, his fingers kneading the soft flesh as our tongues fought for dominance.

I could feel him hardening against my inner thigh, drawing a soft mewl from my lips.

He pulled me closer, one of his hands slipping in between our bodies, moving to cup my breast.

Daryl softly pushed me back, starting to unbutton my jeans, working quickly to remove them.

Each soft touch of his fingers against my bare skin, caused shivers to run down my spine.

I leant down and peppered kisses all over Daryls neck, from his Adam’s apple, to behind his left ear where even though he won’t admit it, Is his sweet spot.

Daryls hands harshly grabbed my ass, before softly growling into my ear, rolling his hips into my own.

I reached behind me and unclasped my bra, Daryl pulling it off of me and throwing it to the floor, kissing down my chest, one hand cupping one of my breasts, the other resting behind me.

He pulled my body closer to his, before groaning out in pain.

My eyes shot open and I softly move off of Daryl.

“Shit, Daryl. Are you alright?” I asked moving to examine his abdomen.

“I’m fine.” He responds, grumbling as he ran his hands over his face in frustration.

I bend down pick up my bra from the floor and put it on, I take another look around the room for the rest of my clothes.

I see my jeans and jump slightly, shimmying them on.

My eyes search the room once again, spotting my shirt hanging off of the dresser, I walked over and snatched it off.

“What are ya’ doing?” He asked as I slipped the shirt over my head.

“You’re hurt, we aren’t doing that.” I scoffed.

Daryl let a groan of frustration out and laid back, annoyance clear on his features.

I crawled onto the bed, kissing under his navel.

“(Y/N)?” he asked, brow raised.

I look up at him through my lashes, smirking as he started to breathe heavy.

I kissed down his stomach, my hands softly moving down his chest and into his waistband.

He moaned softly as my hand slipped further down his pants.

A knock on the door made us both sigh.

“Ya’ gotta be shitting me.” Daryl muttered, turing his back to the door, pulling the blanket up to cover himself.

I stood up, making my way to the door, opening it to be met with Carol.

“Hey honey.” She smiled softly.

“Hey Carol, Whats up?” “I was just dropping in to let you know dinner is ready, I brung some up for Daryl.” She smiled as she lifted a plate.

“Oh, thank you, I’ll come down and get some.” I smiled nodding softly.

I moved aside as she walked in and set the plate down.

“Ill see you soon.” I kissed Daryls cheek.

He nodded.

I left the room as Carol asked if he was okay, getting few words from the man in response.

It was a quiet walk to the dining area, but it was even more quiet there, the only sound audible being the knives and forks hitting the plates.

I took the seat in-between Andrea and Lori.

The silence had lasted about five minutes, although it felt like 5 years, and was broken by Glenn’s voice.

“Does anybody know how to play Guitar?” He paused.

“Dale found a cool one… Somebody’s gotta know how to play.” He smiled.

My head turned to Patricia as she cleared her throat.

“Otis did.” She spoke.

“Yes, and he was very good too.” Hershel confirmed.

We all continued to eat in what was now an awkward silence.

I looked around the table, to notice Shane staring longingly at Lori, I scoffed under my breath and shook my head.

The guy doesn’t know what is good for him.

Slowly but surely, everyone started finishing up their meals.

After Hershel has finished eating, he stood.

“Rick, There are matters for us to discuss.” The man mentioned stood and followed Hershel out.

Carol stood and started to clear the table.

The rest of us following, picking up plates, cutlery and glassware, taking them to the kitchen.

“Dinner was great.” Beth smiled.

“It was lovely, thank you.” Patricia added.

I started to wipe over the clean dishes after Patricia had washed them, Maggie putting them away as both Carol and Lori collected more dishes.

The six of us had the place cleaned up in half an hour.

Lori had left to be with Carl, Carol was with Dale and T-dog in the RV, Beth had gone with Jimmy, Patricia had gone to her room.

A rush of wind passed me and almost knocked me down.

“Im sorry!” Maggie called out as she ran out of the door.

I chuckled as she profusely apologised as she continued running.

I turned and started to make my way back to Daryl’s room.

“(Y/n)?”

I turned to see Hershel walking toward me.

“Good evening Hershel… What can I do for you?” “I understand that you and Daryl are in a relationship?’ He asked.

“Yes sir.” “I’d appreciate it, if the two of you were separated for the night.” “Pardon?” I asked. “You’re both adults, you can survive a night in a different bed.” He stated, brows raised.

“Oh… Right.” I nodded.

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Of course Hershel.” “Thank you.” He nodded, turning on his heel and leaving.

I continued my walk to Daryl’s room and peeked my head through the crack in the door, being met with his soft snores.

I softly closed the door and started the walk to my tent.

I was startled awake by a foreign presence in the tent, soft breaths hitting the back of my neck.

I looked down, to see an arm draped over my body, a hand resting over my stomach.

“Relax. S’me.”

I let go of my breath, that I didn’t even realise I was holding.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” I asked, turning to face him.

“I woke up. Ya weren’t there.”

“You were asleep… you even looked peaceful.” “Ya could’a stayed, slept in a bed.” “I just wanted you to rest.” “I can’t sleep now anyway.” He muttered, pulling me closer to him under the cover, pressing a small kiss to my lips, before settling back down.

The door slightly blew against the breeze.

I looked outside and watched as the soft glow of the early morning sun reflected on the dewy grass.

I felt my consciousness slip away.

My eyes opened, I looked around to be met with an empty tent.

I stretch and get changed, poking my head out of the small door.

The sun, not as harsh as the day prior.

A smile is on my face in an instant as soon as I noticed Carl by the chicken coop with Lori.

I rushed out of my tent and walked over to the pair, waving at Dale as I passed him.

Carl had bent down, reaching his hand into the bucket of feed for the chickens, slightly pausing, causing Lori to move forward.

“Dont look so worried.” “It’s my job.” “No it’s not. You’re a housewife.”

I held in my laughter.

Lori threw the remaining seed in her hand at the boy.

“Yeah, punk? You see my house around here?” She paused.

“A housewife.” She scoffed.

“Im pretty sure your house is just over there.” I laughed, pointing at the Grimes’ tent.

Carl laughed more as Lori picked up more seed, throwing it directly into my face, before she laughed too.

“Think you’re funny huh? The pair of you.” She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “I do actually, Carl, how about you?” I asked smirking

Lori shook her head as we waited for Carls response, after a moment we still hadn’t heard a response.

I turned my head to see him staring at a small group of baby chicks.

“They don't have a mother.”

“She might be somewhere else.” Lori tried to ensure he didn’t worry. “Yeah, she might still be inside the coop.” I agreed.

“Maybe she got eaten.” Carl paused.

I turned to face Lori, who sat in shock, watching her sons every move.

Carl looked between the both of us, before continuing. “Everything is food for something else.” I tried to respond but was cut off by the door inside of the coop slamming shut, spooking some of the hens at our feet.

A twig snapped to the right of me, looking over I see Rick waking over to see his wife and son.

“Morning (Y/n).” “Morning Rick, have you seen Shane?“ “He was out fixing a boundary fence, should be back soon.” He smiled, hugging Lori from the side. I nodded my head in thanks, before leaving the small family to greet one another.

The walk to the tent, was a short, boring one, looking around at my surroundings, my foot snagging on a branch that I could’ve sworn wasn’t there moments before.

“(Y/n)! Are you alright?” Andrea asked, rushing over.

“Im fine, thank you.” I nodded.

“I saw you trip.” “I’m okay, I didn’t even hit the ground, im a pretty good catch.” I softly joked. “I don’t think you should be joking around this is serious.” “So is shooting Daryl.” I shot back.

Andrea looked down, clearly upset.

“Andrea, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that… That wasn’t fair on you.”

“No, its okay. I mean I get it. I shot Daryl, and you’re pissed.” “It was an accident. Im not mad at you, thats was a defensive mechanism.” “So, are we good?” She asked.

I nodded, earning a smile from her, before she pulled me into a hug. “id be lying if I said I haven’t ever wanted to shoot him myself.” I laughed letting go from the hug, causing her to laugh along with me.

“Apparently we all have.” She chuckled.

“I was actually on my way to see Daryl, to apologise to him, give him this book.” She held up ‘The case of the missing man’.

“Thats a great idea. Does it have pictures?” “What do pictures have to do with it?”

“Don’t let him give you a hard time. He will complain, just tell him to suck it up.” I smiled.

“Are you coming to see him?” “I was on my way to see him, but I think it’s best if I let you go in alone.” “I can come back later.” “Andrea, it snow or never.” I smiled.

She sighed, before looking at me and smiling.

“Im going.”

She turned on her heel and headed in the same direction I was before hand.

I walked further down and seated myself on one of the protruding tree trunks.

I leant my head back and let the warm breeze dance across my skin, softly moving my hair.

The peace and quiet was short lived however as two voices kept moving closer.

“Shh. Just trust me on this, okay?” I heard Maggie plead.

“But I suck at lying. I can't even play poker. It's too much like lying.” Glenn whispered.

“You have to keep this to yourself. You have to. Please.” She desperately begged.

I shifted my head, now watching Maggie leave a conflicted Glenn.

After a moment, Glenn looked around and hastily made his way to the RV with a basket.

A bribe maybe….

I waited for five minutes before moving, not wanting to alarm either party if they had returned or forgotten something.

Walking to my tent, I thought about the whispers between Glenn and Maggie, wondering if it was about the two of them sneaking around together, or if there was something more serious happening.

As I got to my tent I found it empty.

One of Daryl’s arrows sitting on the small mattress that we shared, next to the mesh which now had holes littering the bottom from the arrow.

I shook my head and smiled, he obviously would’ve been bored.

I left the tent, and started to search for Daryl or Shane.

Both of which can apparently turn the Greene farm into a game of ‘Where’s Waldo’.

I grabbed the keys for Shane’s Hyundai and made my way over to it, pretty quickly reaching the car, I sat in the drivers seat and started the engine.

I sat in the car and noticed Glenn and Lori at the camp fire visibly disagreeing over something, Lori, acting discrete as Glenn was pushing the subject, whatever it was.

“What is going on in this group?” I muttered under my breath.

I jumped as a loud bang sounded from the passenger seat window, which I wound down for him.

I held my chest as I looked at the culprit, Shane with a dirty smirk.

“What are you doing?”

“I was going to go for a run.” “And not tell anyone?”

“I was originally going to ask If you wanted to join me.” “I ain’t going with you.” He shook his head.

“Fine. Then don’t.” I smiled, putting the car in drive.

“Hey!” Shane exclaimed noticing my movement.

“Im going on this run Shane, with you or with out you, make a decision.” “Fine! I’ll come!”

“That’s what I thought. Now. Get in.”

The car moved when Shane opened the door, making sure to noticeably throw himself angrily into the seat, and slam the door, finally letting me start the journey.

“What is with the attitude?”

“Believe me, if you had a pain in the ass like you for a sister you have one too.” “I have you for a brother. I know the pain.” “Where are we even going?” He asked as we neared the gate.

“I overheard Beth and Jimmy talking last night after dinner, Jimmy had told Beth that there is a house on maple street that looked pretty, from what I could see on the map it looks like it’s ten minutes out.”

I stopped the car at the gate.

Shane, opening the his door and running to the gate to open it, letting me drive through to the other side, before he shut it again, getting back in the passenger seat.

“A house that looked pretty? That is a stupid lead.” He shook his head, turning to look at me.

“Shane, if it looks pretty, im assuming that there’s no walkers around, it could be an easy supply raid.” “What if its over-run?” “Then we deal with it like we would any other time.” “We.” He pointed between us both. “Aren’t dealing with it. I am dealing with it.” He pointed at himself.

I rolled my eyes at his antics.

“You do realise that I have a heart, internal organs, a brain and skin right? Im not made from porcelain.” “You’re my sister, who is carrying a foetus.” “Dont call it that.” “What do I call it then?”

“Tadpole, Bean, Nugget. I don’t care, just don’t call it a foetus.” “Nugget? What kind of name is nugget?” Shane laughed.

“Im not naming it nugget. Jesus Shane. Im not naming it Bean or Tadpole either. It’s just a base name we are going to call it until it’s born.”

“Have you thought of names yet?” “Are you really asking me that?” “Is Spartacus still on the list of names?” He laughed. “Oh shut up!” “Wait, wait, wait, my favourite was always Fabio.” He laughed harder than before. “Then name your kid that.” I hit his arm, laughing with him.

“I ain’t having kids. Especially not after you have your kid. Having that one around is enough.” He laughed.

“Come on, Spartacus needs a cousin, and it looks like you and Andrea are getting close.” I teased.

“Shut up.” He sulked.

“Oh, have I hit a nerve? Does Shane Walsh have a crush on Andrea?” “Seriously, shut up, focus on the road, or you’ll get us lost.”

I smirked and shook my head as we turned onto Bellman Parade.

“Keep an eye out for Maple.”

“Im not dumb.” “Clearly you are, Andrea is great.” I smiled looking at him, to get a death glare in response.

“Maple is the next left.” He stated.

I turned left onto what could only be described as a rich area.

“I doubt these houses would have supplies.” “Can you not be a negative Nancy, who knows what’s hoarded in these houses.” “Exactly! There could be a horde.”

I pulled over on the curb infant of one of the houses, all of which are deserted and look untouched.

“We will start at house 23 and search all of them, see if we can get anything useful.”

“We aren’t separating.” “Clearly.”

We both walked onto the front porch of house number 23.

Shane opened the door, holding out his handgun infant of him, whistling into the house, waiting for any sign of movement or danger.

We waited a moment before he lowered the gun, handing it to me.

“Try not to use it. The last thing we need is every walker within a mile to come.” “I know Shane, save bullets, im not stupid.”

“I know, im just telling you to be careful.” “I appreciate it, now you search the ground floor and I’ll search upstairs.”

He nodded.

I started to sweep through the rooms, finding small bandages, weak pain killers and a few protein bars that I found in a lunchbox.

I looked over the railing to see Shane searching the cabinet in the living room.

“Any luck?” “Not much, a few bullets, handgun and a few cans of food. What about you?”

“A few bandages, some pain killers, weak ass ones and three protein bars.”

“Alright, let’s check the next house.”

“Okay, im coming down.”

I noticed the draw string for the attic Hanging softly.

“Shane! Come up here for a second!” “Why” “Just hurry up!” “Okay, im coming.” He muttered coming up.

“Pull the drawstring down.” “Why do you want to go up into a creepy attic?” “What if they have a weapons box up there?” “It’d be extremely lucky to just guess there’s one.” He laughed grabbing it and pulling it down, the ladder slowly emerging from the ceiling.

Before the ladder had a chance to hit the ground, dust was crumbling from the opening.

I swatted the dust from my face and sneezed.

“Looks like you’re still a geek.” Shane snickered.

“Ow!” He pulled his arm back, rubbing where my fist connected with his arm.

I climbed the ladder and looked around the attic.

Boxes labelled from numerous festive seasons, to ‘dad’s trophies 1988’, to ‘home videos’ and ‘1967-2009 family photos’.

I stepped into the attic and ventured further into the dim space.

I began moving the boxes out of the way, searching in various ones to see what we could utilise.

“Any luck?” Shane called out from the ladder.

“Not yet.” I called out searching another unlabelled box.

I discarded the box to the side, the box hitting one of the chairs.

A domino affect had spilt a few of the boxes, one of which had gardening equipment that had spread over the floor boards.

“(Y/n)! Hey! Are you okay?” I heard Shane and his heavy steps running in my direction.

“Yeah. I’m good.” I breathed out

“I found these shears, hatchets, multi-tools.”

“If there’s any rope, grab it.”

“I know Shane.”

I look to my right noticing the extra pair of hands searching through the contents of the box.

“Let’s take what we have so far to the car.”

I nodded in agreement, moving back towards the ladder.

We searched the next three houses and found various food cans, more medicine, even a first aid box that was filled to the brim.

The fifth house we entered, both the front door and the back door had been wide open.

“Might have a few neighbours.” Shane said as he walked onto the porch.

“Wait out here, I’ll go in and see what we’re dealing with.”

“What if-“ “I will handle it.”

I nodded and waited while Shane did a run through, entering the house when he gave the signal.

This house was empty, compared to the others.

“We will start on this floor, work our way up.” Shane nodded, entering one of the bathrooms.

On then entire ground floor we couldn’t find anything.

“We might have better luck upstairs..” I suggested, making my way up to the next floor.

“Maybe.” He agreed.

My hand reached out to the door in front of me and I lightly pushed it open, pastel pink and blue wallpaper came into view.

I walked into the room, finding dual cribs in opposite corners of the room, a few scattered plush toys on the ground, the walls were ruined with blood splattering along the wall nearest the crib at the window.

A few photos discarded from a photo album that had been thrown around.

I picked up one of the photos and examined it.

A gorgeous blonde woman sat next to a handsome man, each holding a baby in their arms.

“(Y/n)?” I felt Shane tap my shoulder.

“Huh? Yeah?”

“Ive been calling out for 10 minutes. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Sorry.” “What do you have?” “I just found this.” I paused and showed him the picture.

“I hope they got out safely.” I continued. “Im sure they did.” He took the picture and placed it on the shelf.

“I think it’s time to go.” Shane held my arm and guided me from the room.

We walked back to the car and stopped before getting in.

“Do you want me to drive?” “I got it.” I shook my head with a soft smile.

Series Masterlist Next Part

#twd #The Walking Dead #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x you #daryl fanfiction #x reader #fanfiction

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jafndaegur · 4 years

Text

Noise of Rain | Chapter Nine

Strange Complex Thing of My Love

Sesskag

°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°

Kikyo stared at the pale cloth that covered the body. Contour of face and chest, she knew them so well. Their hut seemed so quiet without the carry of his voice and she loathed the fact that it was absent—that silent lay as heavy and stagnant as her pregnancy. Every moment she waited for him to stir, his body to creak and groan back to life. But it never did.

Coming off the battlefield had been surreal, like just waking and finding herself on the teetering edge or both sleep and life.

After the body had hit the ground, Kagome’s Ghost General—that was what Kikyo had dubbed the accompanying dead boy—had fled, Kagome slung over his shoulder. They had disappeared into the mountain. Kikyo at that point had been tempted to leave the corpse there, face first in the muck and gore as it had been dropped. But something tugged at her chest and she found herself wandering towards it. Bow and arrows had been dropped. The horse she then guided with the reins towards the mangled body.

Golden eyes gazed unwavering and lifeless out at the massacre.

It took a lot of maneuvering, and she almost gave up, pain in her belly telling her to just leave it. But something refused to let her hands stay. So after what felt like hours, she managed to cross it over the back of her mount.

Now here they were, four days passed, and Kikyo had yet to burn the corpse. It was fine, she'd cremate it.

Swallowing thickly, the thatch flap to the hut fluttered and she forced herself to regain her composure. A messenger peered in.

"Lady Kikyo, the first sacrifice was burned and his ashes are properly sealed for your use. The second sacrifice is restrained and sedated."

She nodded and waved them off.

Before she could visit the sacrifices, she’d assigned a meeting for herself and the shogun. As much as she despised having to put on an act and beg for aid—again—this next move was necessary. Perhaps initially she’d not expected the need to attack Kagome directly. The girl who housed Kikyo’s soul was a minor inconvenience at best. But the body beneath the sheet haunted her, and the idea of putting the soul to rest with Kagome’s blood sewn through the ground dearly eased her conscience. There was a rabid and ravenous ire that was only sated at the thought of the Edo Matriarch’s end. All things would be righted at that moment, the world would have been corrected. Inuyasha’s death before she could cause it herself would be avenged. Her soul would be properly contained within her own body again. And all of this demonic cultivation, which seemed to unite the demons and hanyou and the humans alike, would finally disappear with the quashing of the Burial Mounds village.

The boundaries set by the world which once separated the three would finally be restored.

She pulled herself away from the hut and entered the frozen and cold world. Snow piled in drifts and mounds, and hoofprints lined every which way—clear paths long forgotten.

A warm outer layer made of thatching was left hanging on the outside of her hut. She drew it over her shoulders and shivered when she realized the lingering scent of Inuyasha remained on it. The desire to pitch it was overwhelming and nauseating, but it was too cold to forgo the extra winter protection.

Carrying a brazier in both his hands, the village messenger from earlier waddled over to Kikyo. Wrapping some of the less-hot coals in a thick cloth, she pocketed some of them, enjoying the warming sensation they left against her skin through the material of her garb. With one more breath of relief, she took the brazier and returned into the hut just long enough to dump the coals and embers of fire onto the corpse’s cloth.

Almost immediately the white sheet caught flame.

She hurried from the hut back outside. “I will be staying with the shogun for at least the next day. When I return, I expect the hut Kaede had stayed in to be cleared and prepared for me.”

“Yes Lady Kikyo,” the messenger bowed respectfully.

Again she hated clambering onto her horse with the swell of her belly. But now more than ever did she need this child. It would help emass the Edo Matriarch’s downfall.

“Ensure the fire does not catch the rest of the village,” Kikyo commanded, nose wrinkling when she caught the distinct stench of burning rot.

The messenger assured her he would keep watch.

Riding to the shogun’s stronghold did not take long. Or maybe it did. Everything felt automatic, as if she were merely doing things from muscle memory. To her the scenery faded and appeared in a blink, only existing in a blur of emerald and opal watercolor until they arrived at the red gates that signalled the fort.

Gatekeepers called her arrival and she was admitted in.

Her audience with the shogun was immediate, and they saw her in seemingly before she could shake the snow and sleet from her outer layer. The meeting hall was warm, lit by sconces and a central fire. She made her way over to the lord her watched her with intrigue.

“You are the Shikon Miko.” It wasn’t a question, just a simple fact.

Kikyo inclined her head and slowly knelt before him, keeping her back rigid despite the pain that pulled at her lower spine. Gritting her teeth, she kept her eyes trained on him—intent evaluate his intentions. He seemed more curious than anything, and that made her scoff. A boy at heart it seemed. Fine, boys were emotional and she could use that to her advantage.

“I’m here to seek your assistance,” Kikyo said. “I’d sought a weaker militia and failed to take down the Burial Mounds or the Edo Matriarch. I need help.”

His posture shifted and his eyes widened with his gaze. “You wish to destroy the Edo Matriarch? That’s madness. Anyone across the state would know that she is not something to be trifled with. Rumor and tell have risen very quickly in the wake of her nefarious reputation.”

“Exactly why we must work together,” making a show of it, Kiko balled her fists and dipped her head downwards. “That demonic cultivator killed the father of my child. I want things righted.”

There was a moment of silence, and as tempted as it was to see the warring expressions wage on the man’s face, she knew to remain still and demure. He had to believe her pain. He didn’t know.

He couldn’t know the pain of being separated from half of your soul.

His voice shook a bit, as if outraged. “The partner of the Shikon Miko must have been a great man indeed. Such a crime should not have happened against such an esteemed person like yourself. We will see these wrongs corrected.”

Kikyo had to force her lips not to upturn as she gave a delicate bow.

---

The wind blowing snowflakes and ice into the flare of his bangs surprised him.

When Sesshomaru landed on the border of the Western lands, he found he couldn’t recollect if snow had permeated the grounds. Time flowed differently for him, and probably more akin to not at all, it seemed like just yesterday he’d delivered lotus pods to the miko for her growing village. Whom had been the main reason for his departure.

Traveling to the mainland had been arduous and taxing, not that someone such as himself would quiver at the journey. But it had taken more time than he’d preferred investigating.

On the mainland, there were more people aware of cultivation. He’d been hoping to find out more about the cultivators who relied on resentful energy rather than qi. Much to his disdain, the few records he found were neither helpful—and the few people who did have information did not carry much.

“Most demonic cultivators are quelled and their disciples diminished before they can spread,” one weary passerby had hissed. “I’d cut ties with anyone like that if I were you.”

The information from his trip had been dry and useless. Either being non-pertinent or things he’d discovered from his own observations. Only one sure-fire thing had been confirmed.

If Kagome did not cease her practices, the resentful energy being stored in both the Phoenix Amulet and drawn-in whenever she used Kangaimuryo, her mental state and her physicality would continue to deteriorate until there was nothing left of her. The unorthodox path did not leave its users unscathed.

He turned his direction towards the mountains that housed the Burial Mounds. Nostrils flared. Teeth clenched. Jaw pulled taut. Ill boding pulled at every direction of his instincts and something told him that if he did not fight now—it would be too late to even flee. Snarling and clenching sharp claws into the palms of his hands, Sesshomaru began his return trek towards Kagome.

The scent of blood loomed faint and stale on the wind.

#sesskag #sesshomaru #inuyasha #sesshoumaru x kagome #au: mo dao zu shi #we're finally getting to the thick of it pt1

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wolfpawn · 4 years

Text

Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 57

Story Summary - Based on an idea I had that I submitted to Imagine Loki. Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.

Chapter Summary - Loki and Ella speak in private about some matters and Ella alleviates some of her mate's tension.

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