#we fell into some sunken graves

[milswrites]

The embers that remain

~ Eris Vanserra X Reader

Summary: Eris tells you some unwanted news.

Warnings: angst, angst and more angst.

Notes: Gotta keep these break up fics flowing.

It started with the wavering touches. The way Eris’s usually firm hands now hesitantly hovered over your body, afraid to close the space between you.

Then it was the way he couldn’t quite look you in the eyes. His amber eyes always opting to stare elsewhere whenever he was in your presence.

The final straw was the stale turn your conversations had taken. The fact that no matter how hard you tried to pull answers from the male he remained as silent as the grave.

But what bothered you the most was the guilt ridden expression which failed to leave his face. His permanently furrowed brows and drooping frown marring his once handsome features.

For a while you allowed him to get away with it, accepting the new sullen persona of which he had adopted. Though once the dark bags had begun to grow under his tired eyes and his cheekbones had sunken into his pale skin, you decided that enough was enough.

That whatever burden Eris had opted to try and carry on his own needed to be shared. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for the Autumn Prince and if needing to share the weight of his problems would enable him to feel better, then you would hold up entire mountains for the male you loved so dearly.

It took numerous attempts for you to stir him from his turbulent thoughts. Your concerned voice and comforting hand coaxing him from his fortified mind. Gently squeezing his knee until the clouds which fogged his whiskey eyes had dissipated, his smoky orbs still failing to meet your own even as they cleared.

“Please my love,” you hummed softly, kneeling before where he was sat, hands clasped on both his thighs, as you looked up at the dejected male, “Share your worries with me. You needn’t battle them alone Eris, not when you have me.”

Your comforting words drew his pained amber eyes to finally meet your warming ones. His brows knitting together in distress, Eris slowly shook his head at you, the Prince tried to deny your gracious offer of help.

Trying to encourage the male to open up you pressed on, “My love there is nothing you could say or do that would ever change my opinion of you. You’re hurting Eris, let me help you.”

You didn’t miss the flash of anger which briefly crossed his harrowed face, the twitching of his nose and slight lift of his lips into a snarl. But you felt no fear, somehow knowing the fury wasn’t directed at you.

“I’m here to listen Eris,” you urged him to speak, begging eyes wide as they searched across his gaunt face, “I could never judge you.”

“But you will!” he finally seethed, teeth slightly bared as his chest rattled which each breath he took. “You will judge me” he cried, his voice breaking as the words fell from his trembling lips.

“No Eris. . . I’d never. Whatever it is it’ll be ok, we can figure it out together” you reasoned giving his thigh another reassuring squeeze from where you were sat on the floor.

“No we won’t” he denied, head still shaking lowly, that cursed expression of grief never faltering from his troubled face.

It was a tense minute of silence before either of you spoke again, but then the source of Eris’s worries tumbled from his lips, “I am to be wed to a woman from one of the outlying cities before the next harvest.”

His words were a knife to the heart. Whilst there had always been the hovering prospect that Eris would have to do his duty to his court and marry another, the two of you had been so caught up in the blazing inferno of your love to ever allow the doubts of the possible reality to cross your minds.

“How long have you known this?” You ask in shock, trying your best to recall when Eris’s sudden change in attitude had began.

The Autumn Prince blanched at your question, clearly having known the answer for longer than he has let on.

“How long Eris?” You repeated solemnly, slipping your hands from where they were resting on his legs to instead consciously knit them together on your lap.

“Two. . .three months?” He shamefully mumbled, a gasp catching in your throat at the revelation of just how long he had kept this secret, “I wanted to wait to tell you. I hoped I didn’t have to at all, that I’d find a way out of it. That it’d never come to this.”

“So you thought you’d just hide it from me for three months? When were you going to tell me you were to be wed Eris, when you were halfway down the aisle?”

“I wanted to tell you” he defended weakly, drawing in another long, shaky breath, “But telling you makes it real and that reality I just couldn’t bear facing.”

“But here we are” you stated, eyes lining with watery tears.

“Here we are” Eris sighed in confirmation, quivering hand reaching out to clasp onto your own. The burning heat from his palm a painful reminder of the comforting heat he had provided you these long years you had spent together.

“So this is it?” You croaked, voice already hoarse from the flood of emotion that had overcome your senses.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he reasoned stubbornly, “we can work something out, see each other still. I can buy a house for you where we can meet.”

You turned your face from the male in disappointment, “I won’t be your dirty secret Eris. I can’t be. Your wife-” your voice cracked at the title, “your wife deserves you in your entirety. Deserves the chance to love you as deeply as I have been able to.”

Flames raged in Eris’s eyes at your refusal to fight, at the dismissive way you had already written of your relationship as a lost cause.

“I won’t love her, never. She’s not you, she never will be. She may be my wife but she’ll never have my heart, that will be yours forever” Eris cried, the heat he was emitting in his burning rage was enough to boil the crystalline tears which fell down his cheeks.

“I’ve always thought you’d make the most wonderful husband Eris,” you weeped opting not to tell him that you had always assumed you would be his bride, “I know you’ll treat her right. That you’d be a good husband. A good father.”

“But it’s not with you!” He sobbed, cursing the gods for the cruel fate he was handed. Losing his faith in the Mother for her misguided choices.

“I’ll always be grateful for the time we were allowed to share my love” you consoled, bringing your free hand to brush back the red locks which had fallen in front of his eyes, “we’ve had such wonderful adventures and I’ll treasure them forever. But. . .we’ve always known your duties would have to come first in the end. We both just chose to become blind to it.”

“We’ve still got time” he begged, leaning his head into your soothing palm, “there’s two months till harvest yet.”

“No my love” you answered, words cutting deeply into Eris’s heart, “That’s not fair. It’s already hard enough as it is. Take the time to move on from me, to ready yourself for another.”

“I’ll never move on, not completely” he promised, warm lips coming to meet your tender palm.

“You’re so strong my love. You will find happiness again” you assured him, confident eyes meeting his own broken gaze.

Eris wasn’t sure how even in the face of adversity you were able to tell the male exactly what he needed to hear. But he was certain that no other woman would ever hold a candle to the force of nature that was you. And as the flickering flame in his eyes dulled into a pitiful ember, Eris swore that he would never allow himself to forget you. That despite your orders to move on, his heart would belong to you in its entirety until the day his fire extinguished.

#acotar #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra oneshot #eris vanserra imagine #eris oneshot #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris imagine #eris vanserra

[severineofsalem]

Past The Cemetery

Pairing(s): Sister!Fem!Reader x Mary Goore

Summary: You are sent to the woods for an errand by Secondo. A mysterious stranger shows up along the way.

Warning(s): 18+ MDNI, penetration, p in v sex, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (USE PROTECTION), corruption kink, blood, mentions of necrop-...yeah umm Mary is gross, THIS IS NOT EDITED it's very messy and not the best

Word Count: 2k

AO3 Link

A/N: this was honestly rushed but I hope you get a kick out of it

“Shit. Dammit!” Your head was beginning to spin from looking at all the headstones. Secondo wanted you to drop a pouch off at a specific monument, something about a pact or of the sort. You had never ventured this far in the cemetery. Treetops block your line of sight from the church.

Go west and keep going. You’ll know once you see it.

His words replay in your head. Some instructions, you thought. All you knew was to find a monument singled off past the borders of the graveyard. The setting sun was the only thing lighting the way. You’ve been walking for what felt like an hour. Your habit did little to block out the chilly autumn air.

Stopping next to the last grave, you look at your path ahead. Fog began to cloud over the ground, making the already spooky area more ominous. You narrow over the setting and not a monument in sight. Grabbing ahold of your habit tight, you continue your journey.

***

West. All you gotta do is keep going west-

You choke on your breath, your body freezing at the sight of the statue.

A large version of the grucifix covered in what looked to be rusted blood stood at least 8 feet high. What made your stomach sink was the pieces of bones and ritualistic symbols surrounding the stone. Something felt off. All you need to do is set the pouch at the monument and return to the church's comfort. What could go wrong?

You glance around before making your way to the stone. Leaning down, you place the velvet pouch on the grey slab, avoiding the skeletal remains.

“What do we have here?”

A frightened shriek rips from your throat.  Frantically standing upright, you search for the voice. Leaning against a tree was a man clad in jeans with a hole in one knee and a black sleeveless shirt. He looks sickly with abnormally pale skin, cheeks sunken in, and streams of red running down his face. You can only assume it was blood. A daunting aura spews off the stranger. He roughly appears deceased.

No words left your mouth. Something was very off.

“Hmm. It’s been a long time since there was an offering. Too long.”

Your senses came flooding back. “Excuse me, I must-”

“Who was it this time? It was the second papa, wasn’t it, babe?” The mention of the familiar person made your brows furrow. “You know Secondo?” It slips out before you can think.

“You could say we are…old friends. We’ve done plenty of business together. That’s why you’re out here? Doing business for that old man?” The guy kicks his muddy boots against the dirt, his shoulder still against the bark. Just because you have a mutual doesn’t mean he is trustworthy.

“Yes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back. It was nice meeting you.” You made two steps toward the cemetery before he blocked the way.

“It seems to me, babe, that you have no idea what is happening here.” The proximity makes you shiver.

You look into his menacing gaze, “And what exactly is happening?” He steps closer, tilting his head. A mischievous grin expands to his cheeks, “You think your Papa would send you out here just to drop off a bag and run back? Oh no, babe. That thing is full of worthless rocks. The real offering is you.”

The hairs on your arms stand up. You freeze again. “Wh- what do you mean?” Was he going to murder you? Would Secondo do this to you? You are merely a sister of sin, always doing what you are told. You are devoted, not blind. Your heart was pounding in your throat.

All expression fell from his face, a dead, serious look twinkling in his eyes. “Sweetness, I’m going to tear you limb for limb and eat your flesh.” Your stomach drops.

“Just kidding.” He throws his head back, shoulders shaking with laughter. His combats stomp against the soil as he claps his hands. “I’ve only done that twice.”

That doesn’t ease your rising panic at all. You take a few steps back, accidentally bumping into a tree. Mary follows your movements, resting his hands on the bark near your shoulders. You are trapped. As much as you hate to admit it, seeing the stranger up close made your heart pound in a way other than panic.

“My name is Mary, by the way. And you, babe, are going to be so much fun.” Mary leans in, feathering his nose along the side of your neck. You squeeze your eyes shut, praying to Lucifer that your time isn’t up. “Oh fuck me. He always knew how to choose. I’ll give him that.”

“Wh-what?” He pulls back, looking into your eyes. “C’mon, babe. Your blood reeks of innocence.” Mary senses your confusion. Placing a hand on his hip, “For your Papa to get what he wants, he has to trade something in return. You, my sweet, are the virgin sacrifice he needed. Pure blood must spill to complete the oblation.”

How anyone knew of your inexperience troubled you more. Was it that noticeable? The thought rushes away when Mary’s hand returns, brushing against your waist.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to kill me?” The question seems to annoy him. “I know you’re naive, but don’t tell me you are fucking stupid, babe.” Impatiently, he looks at you. He was waiting.

Oh.

Mary’s sinister smile came back. “I’ll promise to be-...” He looks away, contemplating. His orbs lit up, shifting back to you. “Nice. Now, babe, are we doing this the easy way or the hard way? It doesn’t matter to me. Though, I do love a good chase.”

You have no choice but to give in. “Easy way.” You whisper.

“Atta girl.”

Mary smothers his lips to yours. Warmth floods your cheeks as he leans his entire body against you. The cold wind is a harsh contrast to the hot tongue invading your mouth. The sensation causes you both to moan. Your fingers turn white as you grasp the oak rind. Mary shoves you further into the tree, pushing his groin between your thighs.

Lifting his arms from the tree, Mary clasps the back of your thighs. With quick haste, you both collide onto the damp sod. Mary rushes to pull your legs over his shoulders, laying himself on top of you. Your thigh-length habit rose to your stomach, exposing the lace you had chosen to wear in the early morning.

Appentence seethes from the male above you. Greedy fingers tug the band of your underwear, pulling them upward to your knees. You can’t tell if you are shaking from the freezing air touching your bare skin or the anticipation flooding your veins.

Mary’s rough hands glide down your thighs, roaming the wet area between them. You bite your cheek to keep from moaning.

“Fuck me, babe.” He swirls a finger around your drenching hole, pushing in the long digit. You melt against the ground, grass brushing your cheek. Your face warms in embarrassment. How could you get this sopping wet from a stranger?

Mary continues his intrusion, curling deeper. Glancing up to your face, he notices your lack of volume. Mary quirks an eyebrow in vexation. Without warning, he adds another finger.

“Mary!” You whine at the stretch. A small cackle rises from Mary, and a sense of pride grows within his chest. He watches you squirm and squeal, trying to process how deep his fingers are reaching.

He smirks, watching his glistening digits go in and out of your snug opening. “I think it’s about time I fuck this pretty pussy, eh babe?”

You barely listen, nodding your head. Mary rushes to unfasten his jeans. He wastes no time lining himself up to your entrance. The head of his cock drips precum. His body itched with hunger. You are a sweet, innocent lamb for the taking. His dick had been hard since he got summoned, knowing what he’d get to do before it even happened.

You clutch Mary’s shoulders, nails digging into his gaunt frame. You shift in discomfort as he buries himself inside you. His hands find your hips, gripping tight enough to leave bruises. Your head is spinning. All the sensations you feel make your brain hazy and mush.

Bottoming out, Mary lets out a growl. “Out of all the bodies, living and dead, I’ve fucked; you’ve got the tightest cunt I’ve ever fucking felt.”

He leans back, taking your legs off his shoulders. Mary discards your underwear, throwing it into the fog. He takes your legs, wrapping them around his midsection, situating you to his liking.

Mary bends down, burying his face in your neck. He starts to pound into you, your core burning with pleasure. You’ve never felt anything like this. Masturbation couldn’t even compare to the gratification you are receiving.

“H-harder, please.” It sounded pathetic, high-strung, and syrupy. A knot in the low part of your stomach begins to form. “Harder? Look at you. Whimpering on my dick like the slutty nun you are.” He laughs in your face, sharpening his movements nonetheless.

He ran his nose against your jugular, taking the flesh between his teeth. A pitchy cry forces its way out of you. Tears prick your eyes. The combination of pain from Mary’s bite and the pleasure between your thighs makes you short-circuit.

Silky, black hair clings to your jaw. The hot breath blowing onto your neck only adds to your heat. The raspy groans coming from Mary echo in your ear. The noises alone make you weak. It was becoming too much.

Mary moves away, admiring the mark he made on your skin. He inches forward, placing a light kiss on the contused skin.

All thoughts you have are gone. Your head tilts to the side, shutting your eyes in befuddlement.

“That’s it. Letting me use this tight pussy like the whore you are. Not so much a virgin now, sugar. Look at the mess you’ve made.” Mary gestures to where you are connected, keeping his pace. His eyes light up in awe. Arousal coats everything. He brings a hand down, rubbing your swollen clit.

“Mary!” You nearly scream. Each shove of his hips presses against that sweet spot inside of you. You throw your head back, glassy eyes rolling. Everything was pulsing, tingling, and shaking.

“Please!” The sensitivity made the tears in your eyes fall. “Please what, hmm?” He pushes harder on the swollen bud, making you wail. “You’ve got no one out here to save you. Your own Papa sent you here knowing you would be left hopeless. You had no choice but to let me ruin this sweet pussy.” He punctuates each word with a harsh thrust.

Your legs tug Mary impossibly closer to your trembling figure, toes curling in ecstasy.

“Gonna cum? You better fucking do it. Cum on my cock like a good fucking slut. That’s it.”

You have no power over the furious jerking of your hips clashing against his.

Your vision fills with explosions. You have no control over the squirming and shuddering your body is doing. Your breath catches in your airway. “P-please.” Your plea falls on deaf ears. Mary continues fucking you mercilessly, moaning wildly as you cum.

He takes advantage of your open mouth, searing a hot kiss to your lips. Mary grabs ahold of your neck, firmly squeezing. He growls into the kiss, filling your convulsing walls with cum. You stay connected for a good moment, soaking in the heat of each other.

Mary detaches himself from you, falling to your side. You both lie there panting, taking a second to breathe. Side-eyeing the man to your right, you notice something different about him. An essence of youth shines his aura. You shift your gaze to the trees above you, taking note of the dark sky.

You sit up, wincing at every sore muscle you have. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

You freeze. “Home?”

“Oh, sweetheart. We are nowhere near done.”

#mary goore #mary goore smut #mary goore x reader #repugnant

[the-art-of-ancunin]

The Mask & The Mirror [Chapter 7]

Explicit | Enemies to Lovers | Multi-Chapter | Contains BG3 Spoilers

Pairing: Ascended!Astarion x Original Female Character

Chapter Warning(s): Inner turmoil, slight angst, Astarion being a bit of a bitch 🤷🏻‍♀️

Please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3.2K

Ancunin Palace - an imposing fortress of twisted dark spires and unforgiving stone - cast a long and foreboding shadow over what was once the great city of Baldur's Gate. While a great many things had remained the same in the century that had passed since the fall of the Absolute, an even greater number of things had changed...the Council of Four was no more - not really, anyhow...and it seemed that as the years continued to pass, more and more eyes were either closed forever or were turned red. Within the Welcoming Hall of the ominous castle, Gale Dekarios stood, hands clasped politely behind his back as a cadre of his old friends spawn watched him carefully. They lined the chamber like eerie sentinels, their pallid flesh and haunting sunken eyes exuding an aura that in another life would have made the wizard quite uncomfortable. The air was heavy with the sickly sweet scent of ancient blood and the weight of countless centuries of suffering. Despite having not set foot in that cursed place for nearly one hundred years, it appeared much the same as it had as far as the man could recall. Some small changes in decor, perhaps, but still very much embedded with the same horrors and oppression as it had been under its previous Master.

"Love what you’ve done with the place," Gale jested, the attempt at levity falling flat as it met the unyielding silence of the undead watchmen.

As if on cue, the large double doors groaned open, an auditory testament to their use. Astarion Ancunin, the Vampire Lord, slinked into the room with a grace that belied his predatory nature, his crimson gaze locking onto his visitor. "Questioning my taste, are we, Gale? I'd expect nothing less from a man who’s dressed in the same robes for several decades."

The man simply offered a smile, though it did not quite mask the apprehension in his chest – a tight coil ready to snap. He extended a hand towards Astarion, a gesture of old camaraderie that now felt foreign between them.

The elf regarded the outstretched hand with a cold indifference before shifting his attention to Gale's face, his own expression a carefully crafted veneer of disinterest. Then, with a fluid motion befitting his royal station, he descended into the embrace of his gilded throne. It was as though he fell in slow motion, each inch calculated, precise, mocking.

"Looking well, Astarion," He commented, retracting his hand. His voice was steady, but inside, he felt the slight sting of rejection, a bitter reminder of fractures time hadn't healed.

"Of course I do," Astarion replied breezily, casting a critical eye over Gale. His finger traced an invisible line along his face, mimicking the crow's feet etched at the corners of the wizard’s tired eyes. "Pity the same can't be said for you. Age has scattered gray across your visage like ashes upon an abandoned hearth."

Gale pressed his lips together, forming a thin line. He could feel the heat beneath his skin, the flush of indignation, but he held it back, damming the river of retorts that threatened to spill forth. "It is good to see that your charm remains as... piquant as ever," he responded, somehow managing to remain amiable in the face of such taunting.

"Charm? A mere trifle among my talents," The vampire drawled, a smirk playing upon his lips. "Now, let us dispense with the pleasantries, hm? You've come for a purpose, have you not?"

Astarion’s gaze was like a cold blade against the man’s resolve, slicing through the small talk with an air of impatience. "Say your piece, old friend. And be swift about it; you've interrupted matters of—shall we say—grave importance."

Gale let out a scoff that was as hollow as the laughter of the undead attendants who flanked the room like grotesque statues. "Oh, my. Forgive me for tearing you away from your...erm…craftsmanship but for a moment," he said, eyes flickering to the impassive faces of the vampire spawn. Under his breath, he murmured, "No offense intended." Their silence was his only answer, as expected.

"It’s adorable that you’d think for even a moment that I’m referring to these…creatures," Astarion laughed, amusement dancing across his face. "But I would remind you that you are on my property, Gale, and surely I needn’t explain myself in the comfort of my own home. Not to the likes of you, anyhow." The pale lord's posture relaxed into the throne, an arrogant king in his court.

The man nodded, the tightness in his chest unwinding enough to draw breath for what must be said. "Of course not. I am here on behalf of the Lords of Waterdeep," he revealed, his voice steady despite the gravity of his words. "To investigate the annihilation of Duskshore."

"Ugh, really?" The vampire sneered, "This is well beyond Waterdeep’s reach, and you know it. The investigation into Duskshore's tragic end lies firmly within the jurisdiction of Baldur's Gate, not to some frightened old men in the north.” 

"Normally, I would agree," Gale conceded, his thoughts briefly touching on the desolate sight of the once-thriving city, now silent as a tomb. "But being that its end was so abrupt and unusual, the Lords deemed it necessary to conduct an independent investigation into this matter."

The Wizard of Waterdeep stood firm under the Vampire Ascendent’s scrutinizing gaze, aware that each word he spoke was a stone in the foundation of what needed to be done. He required answers, and he was convinced that Astarion held them, whether he would admit it or not.

"Miss? Is everything alright in there? Are you hurt?" The concern in the spawn's voice was obligatory at best.

Yuri's heart raced, her breathing shallow as she positioned herself just out of sight from the door. She could almost sense the vampire spawn's suspicion through the heavy wood, the quiet alertness of a predator. With a swift, deliberate motion, she sent the oil lamp that she had snatched from her bedside table crashing to the floor, the sound of shattering glass splitting the stillness of her quarters. Without missing a beat, she forced out a pained, well-practiced cry. 

"Fuck, I’ve cut myself," she lied, the agony in her voice sounded so genuine, she herself could almost be convinced, "I hate to ask…but I could really use some assistance dressing the wound."

After a brief moment, the door creaked open. The spawn stepped inside cautiously, as if every fiber of his being told him this was a terrible idea. Yuri's smile grew as she unleashed the spell she had been holding within her grasp, a surge of pink energy flowed from her fingertips and swirled around the unwitting creature before her.

“Hello, dear,” She cooed as she stepped around to face the vampling. 

“Hello, Miss,” He answered, a warm smile spreading across his thin lips. 

"Could you tell me something? This ‘Gale’ you spoke of earlier…he wouldn’t happen to be the infamous Wizard of Waterdeep, now would he?" she asked, voice gentle, coaxing.

"I’m not entirely sure, to be truthful…but, I believe so," the spawn answered, the magic making his will pliable as clay.

"Where might I find him, dear?"

"In the Audience chamber with Master," came the docile reply.

"Directions, love."

The spawn complied, pointing the way with a languid hand. And then, the final touch—she asked to have the man’s keys. The enchanted spawn presented them without hesitation, and Yuri locked him in the room, a satisfied grin touching her lips as she set off down the corridor.

The splendor of the chamber, with its soaring arches and beautiful tapestries faded into the periphery as he squared his shoulders, focusing on the pale elf who lounged before him. The throne upon which Astarion reclined was a masterwork of twisted iron, complete with gold and ruby accents, echoing its owner's cruel elegance.

Gale's voice cut through the thick, musty air of the audience chamber with a clarity that spoke to the gravity of his words. "Duskshore's end was no natural disaster, as I’m sure you are well aware. It was rent asunder by magics most foul and potent."

"Evocation magic," He continued, the weight of each syllable seeming to rattle the very stones beneath their feet. "Of a caliber I've scarcely encountered."

Astarion's eyes narrowed, the sneer on his lips curdling into something darker. "Hm, interesting… and you wouldn’t possibly be here to insinuate that I—" he began, rising from his throne like a tempest given form.

"Would have been so foolish?" The wizard interjected, holding his old friend’s gaze unflinchingly. His heart pounded against his ribs, but he allowed none of it to surface. "You, who finds such delight in the personal touch of your particular brand of cruelty? Of course not."

The vampire paused, his expression unreadable for a moment that stretched on for far too long. Then, sinking back onto his throne, he let out a chuckle devoid of humor. "Fair enough. My tastes do run a bit more towards the…intimate end of things."

Gale's mind raced, searching for leverage, for any sign of deception.

Nothing.

He wove his next words carefully, taking into consideration the balance of power in the room. "Given the severity of the attack and the fact that Duskshore's fate occurred within the shadow of Baldur's Gate, I'm sure you understand why the council would not feel comfortable leaving this matter solely in the hands of local governance."

"Indeed," Astarion drawled, his fingers steepling before him. "Wise of them to send a 'neutral' party."

"Neutrality does have its advantages," He replied, though his thoughts churned with doubt. 

"Advantages, yes," The pale elf said, his eyes glinting with a predatory light. "But also... limitations."

"Perhaps," Gale conceded, his own gaze never wavering. "But necessary ones. Now, do you have any knowledge of what transpired? Any information could prove to be most crucial."

The Sovereign regarded him with a calculating stillness, then sighed theatrically. "I haven’t the slightest idea what happened - you have my word. And I would see it noted that if the council suspects me capable of such recklessness, well…perish the thought."

"Such assurances are a luxury we can’t afford at the moment," Gale replied gently.

"Mm...well, rest assured," Astarion finally stated, his voice low and laced with something that might have passed for sincerity in another life, "I have no desire to see all of my hard work reduced to ash by some unseen hand."

"Then we are aligned in purpose," The wizard acknowledged, hoping his relief did not seep into his words. "Let us find this perpetrator before they strike again. Together."

"Of course," The elf murmured, his gaze lingering on Gale for a moment longer before he waved a dismissive hand. "You will have my full cooperation. Just be careful not to overstep."

The beauty of the Audience Chamber was lost on Yuri as she slipped in through the side door, her eyes landing immediately on the two men who occupied the room, mid-conversation. The air between them crackled with tension like the charged moments before a storm, but she was pleased to see that it was indeed her wizard that had come to visit. The drow’s entrance, however, seemed to cut through the atmosphere like a knife, leaving a palpable slice of silence in her wake.

The vampire’s crimson eyes flashed to her, a tumultuous sea churning with surprise that quickly gave way to a darker undercurrent of possessiveness and fury. Gale, however, seemed to crumble under a different weight—the shock in his large brown eyes melting into worry, his body tensing.

"Yuri," Astarion began, his voice a controlled tremor that belied his effort to keep the raging fury at bay. "It is... most unwise to wander these halls unescorted."

"I apologize, my love," Yuri spoke, her voice as delicate as the silver strands that framed her face. She wove her lie with care, casting it out like a lifeline. "I asked the gentleman you had appointed to watch over me if he could fetch me some strawberries…I’m afraid the dizziness took me a bit by surprise this time, and I thought that some food might help alleviate it. But they’ve not returned, and the door—it was left unlocked. I only meant to find them. I swear."

Her heart thrummed against her ribs, a panicked bird desperate to escape its cage, as she awaited his response.

He studied her for a moment longer before his expression softened into something resembling understanding. He nodded, the subtle gesture calling her to him like a siren's song. "Come here, my dear," he said, the anger now hidden behind a curtain of gentleness.

She moved towards him, her steps measured as if crossing a battlefield, throwing Gale a subtle glance. The wizard's concern was etched deep within the lines of his face, a silent communication that spoke volumes of their past—a history marred by burning sarcasm and hard-won trust.

As she reached the Sovereign, he gently pulled her into his lap with the ease of one claiming a prized possession, his touch both protective and proprietary. "Did I take too much earlier?" he murmured, the words a soft caress against her ear.

"Perhaps," She admitted sheepishly, "I didn't feel weak until I tried to stand." She forced her voice to remain steady, despite the anxiety that roiled within.

"Ah," he tutted, clicking his tongue with feigned remorse while his fingers brushed her cheek in an intimate stroke. "My apologies, sweet girl. I indulged a bit more than necessary, I admit. It’s just so very difficult to pull away from something so…luscious," His breath was warm against her skin as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck, each motion calculated and deliberate.

Yuri's mind raced even as her body remained a passive canvas for his affections. How could she signal her plight to Gale without alerting Astarion? Every touch from the high-elf was a brand, marking her in ways that went beyond the physical. And yet, she knew she must tread carefully, for a single misstep could spell doom for more than just herself.

Gale's voice cut through the chamber, a sharp note of incredulity laced with concern. "Yuri, what in the Nine Hells are you doing here?"

Astarion's eyes narrowed to slits at the wizard's boldness, his grip on her tightening at his words. She could feel the pulse of his power coursing through the room, an undercurrent of danger beneath his serene facade.

"I was captured," she began, her voice a soft echo of fear and resolve, "By the Zhentarim. They beat me and left me for dead, as though my life were nothing but refuse." Her gaze flickered momentarily between the two men. "Astarion saved me. Nursed me back from death's door." Turning her head, she brushed her nose against Astarion's cheek, her breath catching as she played her part. "Isn't that right, love?"

"Indeed it is," Astarion confirmed with a predatory grin, his hand smoothing down her side before firmly cupping the curve of her ass, ownership emanating from the deliberate touch.

The wizard stepped closer, his voice a low, desperate plea. "Look at me, Yuri."

"Keep your distance, biir," The vampire growled, a warning clear in his tone.

She met Gale's gaze, and she saw relief flood his features as he took in the familiar lavender of her eyes. Still, confusion furrowed his brow, and she could see him struggling to piece together the fractured narrative before him.

"Why have we heard nothing from you?" He pressed on, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tana and Lyra have been looking everywhere for you. I’ve been looking everywhere for you!"

"Have you?" Yuri retorted, her heart breaking within her chest. "Have any of you really looked for me beyond what’s been convenient for you? Am I truly to believe anything besides that my friend's efforts have been just as fleeting as your own? For you’ve only found me just now, by mere happenstance." The words felt like acid on her tongue, and inwardly, she winced as they left her lips. She told herself that she had to be convincing and prayed that Gale would be smart enough to see through her. 

His shoulders sagged, the weight of her accusation visibly pressing down upon him. "You know that's not fair, Yuri. You know you don't mean that."

She struggled to fight back tears as Astarion's lips began to trail kisses along her neck, his mouth branding her skin as if to display the changed circumstances to their mutual acquaintance. She knew his affection was a performance, yet the message behind it was unmistakable: she belonged to him.

The drow fought to keep her expression neutral, to maintain the delicate balance between survival and betrayal. As Astarion's touch lingered on her skin and Gale's pained eyes searched hers, she was reminded that the line she walked was razor-thin. 

The air was thick with tension, a tangible presence that wove between the three figures like an invisible serpent. Yuri’s pulse hammered in her ears, each beat a desperate, unspoken plea for her friend to recognize her well enough to know that something was wrong. Her gaze lingered on him for just a moment longer before she posed a question, her voice a soft melody of feigned curiosity.

"What brings you here, Gale? What urgent matter calls you away from your precious Waterdeep?"

Before he could utter a single word, Astarion interjected, his tone dripping with a possessive smoothness. "He is here on business, sent by the Lords of Waterdeep to assist me with uncovering whatever it was that caused Duskshore to meet such a tragic fate.” 

"Well then, thank you in advance for your help," She said, her words laced with gratitude that didn't quite ring true. She glanced at the man before her again, hoping beyond hope to see any indication that he understood what was happening. "And Waterdeep...do you happen to know if they have plans to send aid for the refugees now burdening our city?"

The vampire’s lips curled into an approving grin as he seized the opportunity. "Ah, a very good question, my treasure. Have the esteemed Lords mentioned sending any practical help?"

Gale hesitated, his attention shifting between Yuri's carefully constructed expression and the high-elf's expectant gaze. "I cannot speak to the council's intentions with certainty on that particular matter, but I shall inquire on your behalf if you wish it."

"Please do," Astarion answered simply, dismissing the man with a wave of his hand. "Now if it’s all the same to you, it’s been quite a day and my darling and I would like to retire for the evening. You'll find accommodations at the Elfsong Tavern. The upstairs suite remains practically untouched— you shall stay there as our treat until your investigation is finished."

"Thank you, Astarion. And Yuri," Gale said, his voice heavy with unspoken words, "it's good to see you safe." He cast her one last searching glance before turning to leave, followed closely by a small escort of spawn. 

As the chamber door closed behind him, Astarion's fangs grazed Yuri's earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine. "My, my. What a perfect little consort," he murmured, his voice a silky threat.

She turned her head, her smile as fragile as glass, yet radiant enough to appease him. "Could I trouble you for some food now, my love? I’m still a bit wobbly."

"Anything for you, my sweet," He purred, his eyes glinting with a dark satisfaction. "Anything at all."

A/N: Hello, hello! I hope this update wasn't entirely garbage. I did my damndest, I promise! If you'd like to offer some feedback or just like/reblog if you're liking the story so far, that would be super cool and much appreciated! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed the update, and I shall see you guys again real soon with the next! XoXo

[ biir - "garbage", An Elven term used as an insult against those of half-elven and human heritage. Info courtesy of this post by @spacebarbarianweird ]

#astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldur’s gate astarion #bg3 #astarion smut

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Tagged by: @vampireninjabunnies-blog @inafieldofdaisies and @clicheantagonist (thank you lovelies!!)

Tagging: @adelaidedrubman @strangefable @direwombat​  @roofgeese​@confidentandgood @afarcry5fromstraight @sukoshimikan @derelictheretic @josephslittledeputy @detectivelokis @wrathfulrook @josephseedismyfather @inquisitors-grave  @nightbloodraelle @voidika @shallow-gravy and my brain is a blob so if anyone else sees this and wants to share something please consider this me tagging you :) (also if you’d like me to tag you please let me know i hate leaving people out)

I haven’t done much writing lately so here’s another snippet from chapter 21 from Caleb’s (my chosen OC) POV. This is set after the events of the baseball incident for clarification as to what’s going on:

The Chosen lined up on either side of the front doors of the chalet, watching as their brothers bodies were carried in after having been left to rot outside by the sinners. Blood and dirt trailing behind them as they were placed on the table tops already covered in sheets to wrap them. With sunken cheeks and dead eyed stares like fish pulled from the lake, all the color had faded from them, made pallid and cold. Some were even missing pieces from the wildlife who’d made use of the carrion as a meal. 

They looked on solemnly, knowing this was becoming a constant event. Every week more of their number seemed to be brought to them this way, more dead than new recruits entered through those hallowed doors. And Caleb was getting sick of it. With each new fallen outpost he’d have to simply watch as his brothers in arms were brought to their knees at the hands of that sinner. He knew it had to be her – the violence, the bloodshed – it was like Brother John had said, she was wrath incarnate.

Wrapping the sheets around them in a burial shroud they noted whose lives were lost, killed in action, a noble sacrifice for the Father and the Project.These ones had come from the Ranger Station, but there was one missing, a member of their pack that had not returned home to his brothers, who was still lost. 

Caleb flicked the metal lid of his lighter off and then back on again, the tinkling chime of the hinge getting louder and faster the more unsettled he became.  “There’s someone missing," he shouted above the din. He could hold it in no longer. He felt loss for the others who fell, but what was more important was delivering retribution onto her, revenge rained down upon her for what she had done to their family. 

Harkness, his squad leader, looked up at him with furrowed brows. Now was not the time, they were in mourning. This was the time for prayer, not for war.

“Seth isn’t here. Where is he?” 

“Caleb, not now,” Harkness shot back.

“Then when?” He flung his arm out to the side with frustration, pointing at the dead. “When more of our brothers end up like this? When there are no more of us left?” Caleb walked up to Harkness, who stood several inches taller and broader, but he didn’t waver in his fury. “The sinner has to be stopped. You all know it’s her, so why do we just sit and let her take us?”

“Because that is what the Father commands! It is his will that we let her live, Caleb. You know this.” He looked down at his subordinate with a stern glance. 

“Still doesn’t change the fact that one of our brothers is unaccounted for. If he’s in the hands of that sinner God only knows what is happening to him, what already has happened.”

Harkness sighed at the continued outbursts of his unit member, while it was understandable why he was angry it also didn’t help the situation they were currently in. Emotions were raw at a time like this, but a clear and level head was what was needed. “God will look out for him.”

“The way he looked out for them?” Caleb pointed out at the bodies of the dead once more. 

Harkness grabbed him by the collar of his duster and dragged him off to the other side of the room while the others prepared the bodies for their burial. Tossing him up against a wall, his toes dangling against wooden floorboards. 

Green eyes narrowed at the foolish young man. “Do not question the Father, do not question the Lord’s ways. Do you have faith?”

“Of course I do! You know I do.” Caleb leaned forward, snarling.

Slamming him back once more, Harkness lowered his voice to a rumbling growl, “Then stop talking out of turn.”

“What about Fisher? He was stationed there too. You know the stories about hunters being taken by the militia. What if she took him? Tortured him?”

The squad leader dropped his head at the thought. “Then may God have mercy on his soul.”

Caleb’s eyes narrowed, not happy with that as a response. Feeling as though he was the only one who cared, who felt offended for the things she had done to their numbers. He could no longer sit idly by and pray. Seth was one of the few he could call a real friend, and now he was God only knew where and no one wanted to do anything about it except for him. He would make her pay, he would bring her to justice. He might not have been a Herald but he could certainly show her the error of her ways, he would show her the light by whatever means necessary. 

A wave of red fell to their knees, heads bowed as they prayed that the souls of their brothers would find their way to God. That they would be judged righteous and strong. That they would see the light and that peace would come to them. 

Jaw clenched, eyes frozen on the bodies before him, his heart wasn’t in it to keep repeating the empty words. The others could say they all had faith, but what they had was fear. They were too weak to stand up against the beast that threatened them. He wasn’t. Joseph had seen that, so had Jacob. 

They would all soon see.

#tagged #wip wednesday #far cry 5 #fan fiction #oc: caleb winters #american beasts #chapter 21

[ruiniel]

Title: Return

Fandom: Castlevania (animated series)

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Alucard/Greta

Characters: Alucard, Sypha Belnades, Greta, Trevor Belmont

CW: Near Death, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Aftermath of Violence, Heavy Angst, Hematophagy, Blood Sharing, Vampire Turning, Difficult Decisions, Moral Dilemmas, Post-Castlevania, Inspired by Castlevania, and every other vampire piece of media I've read over the years, Vampirism, In this AU the dhampir has the ability to turn others, Maybe some throwback to Nocturne of Recollection, Dark Fantasy, Grief

Also on AO3

Summary: 

An older oneshot I'm reposting here. Pondered for a while on an AU where Greta is turned under strained circumstances to 'save' her life, and how things would unfold from then on between our four protagonists. Had the turning scene in my head, which became this angst-ridden oneshot. The angst jar spilled over. Explicit for depictions of grave injuries, near-character death, drama, and all that's in the tags.

~~

This is not happening, this cannot be happening.

Intently, Alucard stared into the tired, drawn face of the healer. His fingers dug into the inert shoulders of the body lying on the infirmary table.

Mioara shook her head. “I… I’m sorry,” she sighed. “There’s nothing more I can do.” She looked back at Greta with regret and anguish, her lips trembling as she smoothed a dark lock of hair behind the unconscious woman’s ear.

Nothing had warned him that this day, this fateful day, would see the world crashing down upon them. “There must be!” Alucard choked, looking down at Greta’s prone form. Her arms and legs were slack as she lay there, unmoving but for the meager rise and fall of her ribcage. Her eyes were closed and sunken, her skin damp, paper frail. The occasional wheeze leaving her lips in a red, foamy sputter was like the burn of consecrated silver to his heart.

Mioara looked worriedly at him. “She’s lost too much blood, lord Țepeș; you yourself discovered she has a collapsed lung, and....” the healer faltered, “Nothing will turn that fever. And the gut wound… her intestines were pierced, and bacteria have seeped into the abdominal cavity as infection has already set. I…”

She started at the sudden growl from Alucard, taking a step back, and gaped at him. 

“Hey,” Trevor’s voice, low and steady, rose from behind him. A large hand was placed flat between his shoulder blades. “Alucard, she…”

Alucard jerked away, taking Greta’s hand in his. 

This is not happening.

He’d just found her, he’d only just found them . The four of them had been happy, free. They’d defeated Death, but Alucard had forgotten. He always forgot: her kind was always subject to its whims, its crippling hunt, its finality.

“Alucard,” another, smaller hand burned on his forearm. Sypha. “We must… we have to…”

Alucard suddenly gained his feet. “We must what, Sypha?” he rounded on the Speaker before meeting the stony face of the hunter. “Wait for her to die?” his gaze cut back to the healer, who had taken to covering Greta’s mangled body with a white sheet.

“Hey… easy,” Trevor’s voice was firm, his shoulders tensing. “This hit us all, as it does you, and I understand, but—”

Fast as lightning, Alucard grabbed the sheet from the healer’s hands, throwing it aside. He took the unconscious woman in his arms; her head fell back limply.

“Alucard, what are—” Trevor reached, but Alucard turned on him with a hiss, sclerae drowned in red, nostrils flaring and fangs bared in bestial warning.

“You. Understand. Nothing.”

He knew they did; oh, they did. But now he couldn’t, he couldn’t—

“Lord Țepeș, please, let her last moments be peaceful. I have to let everyone know, and we must… prepare for the burial. Lord Țepeș!” Mioara yelled after him as Alucard rushed with Greta out the door.

He blinked away his anger and the tears, looking down at his burden, and dark desperation took hold as Alucard felt the life force seeping from her. 

“Alucard, where the hell do you think you’re going?!” Trevor’s voice echoed off the walls in his wake, but he only tread faster. She was so still, and he knew the door to oblivion was slowly creaking open, about to close on his sense, his life, his future.

“Alucard, stop!” Sypha’s voice added to Trevor’s, and the hasty steps were louder in the ancient silence of the tall hallway.

He sped ahead, unseeing, half-beaming in flashes, half-stumbling, until Alucard ended at the threshold of their shared bedroom. With a swipe of his arm the door slammed open, then shut, yielding to commands beyond the physical, and came locked even as the thump of a body struck it on the other side.

“Alucard… Adrian,” Trevor’s voice was muffled through the wood, softer. “Open this door and come back with us. What are you even doing, running around like this?” He sighed. “I know you hurt.” A pause. A sigh. “We love her too.”

The hunter’s words went unacknowledged as Alucard gently set Greta onto the bed; blood seeped through the linen sheets in a widening pattern, still crumpled from their lovemaking that morning, before she had set out on the expedition that would end her life. She’d assured him it was fine; just overseeing another routine transport to Bran and to teach the lads the ways of business travel. 

How, how the fuck could he have been so blind to it all, so stupid as to stay behind?

“Alucard,” Trevor spoke then, “I’m not hearing anything from you. If you don’t come out, or say something, I’ll be forced to take this door down.”

“Trevor…” came Sypha’s softer voice, shivering on the letters.

“Sypha no, did you…. Did you see the look in his eyes?!”

Their frantic voices faded from his mind as Alucard hid his head in his hands, and his legs gave way. He folded onto the bed by her side, raking his claws over his face that left fast healing scrapes and cuts. Unlike her; she would not heal, she would leave him bereft. Alucard clawed at his face again, over and over, until the salt of his tears stung his bloodied cheeks.

“Alucard, for fuck’s sake!” The silence broke with the sounds of someone throwing themselves at the door. The hinges creaked, but the wood stood fast.

Alucard leaned closer to her face. The familiar deathlike drench was already taking over. He cupped her cheek with his hand and brought his forehead to hers; she no longer burned, her skin was damp, cold. A sob wracked his chest as the last drops of life fought within her like a bird in a shattering cage. Mindlessly, he kissed her face, then his lips found her chapped ones, drifting until he tasted the thin ribbon of blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. It was her, sweet and heady and rich with the taste of that brave, unyielding heart—

Alucard froze. Blinked rapidly. His chest throbbed with thundering beats that ran fathoms a second, and he swallowed as he watched the still, spectral features of his dying life. She had moments left, even less by the sludging of blood through her veins. 

Would she hate him? Curse his name? Would she think he robbed her of this gift, this freedom humans were granted, that he would always be denied?

Could he live like this? 

He was being selfish; the lowest of the low, and deserved her scorn, and anything she would throw at him. But at that very moment, these intricate hesitations fled before the very real prospect of losing her. It was too soon, too damn soon, and something broke within him like a rust-eaten lock.

His trembling hands slipped beneath her, lifting Greta up and holding her to his chest. His face hid in the crook of her neck and Alucard breathed her in, listening to her slowing heart. Hesitation yet burned the back of his mind, become dimmer with every second he felt her slipping away; duller than the repeated crashing into the door on the other side.

“You may curse me,” Alucard murmured, his face still buried in her. His other hand grasped the back of her head, and he pressed trembling lips to her skin, sobbed once against her throat; and sank his fangs in.

He’d not done this before, never imagined he would resort to the very thing that made humans fear and flee his father’s kind. But now her blood coated his tongue, the taste of it drowning his reason and his insides ached as though stabbed with myriads of sharp blades. Alucard swallowed thickly as her life seeped through him, and he fell prey to the heightened spike her human essence caused in his flesh, his thought; he became more alert, more careless. His grief turned to stone, his pain and fear so, so close to hatred, and he could barely stop himself but somehow he did, and licking the blood clean from the punctures, Alucard let his head fall back, groaning in guilt-ridden delight. He shook his head to regain himself, clutching Greta close.

His breath was a maelstrom in his own ears as he dug a clawed finger into his wrist, and Alucard fought to see beyond the crimson veil his forced feeding pulled over his eyes. He carefully laid the woman back down and held his bleeding wrist over her mouth, and bright blood dripped from the self-inflicted wound to stain her parted lips. He struggled, struggled to speak the words. “With…” his chest hitched with another pitiful whimper. “With this blood, I…” 

“Alucard!” Trevor yelled. “Just say something, damn it. I will tear this door down if you don’t… please...”

“... I bind you, to return,” he whispered the ancient incantation in a language none but the damned remembered, sealing the word with a soft kiss to her cold mouth.

Everything was spinning, but Alucard lifted her in his arms again and held on as though his own life depended on it, and soon enough her body spasmed and writhed against him, and a sharp wail left her throat.

“Shh,” Alucard soothed, suddenly frightened out of his mind of what he had done, “I’m here,” he held Greta closer, even as her eyes opened then rolled back, even as her back arched and an animalistic screech filled the chamber.

She fell slack and lifeless in his arms.

Panting heavily, fighting past his own awakened bloodlust, Alucard watched her for any changes, then brought her head to rest on his shoulder, rocking with her back and forth.

“Come back, come back, please, please, come back… I can’t do this without you. I can’t lose you. Not now, not ever,” he hissed.

A soft whimper — not his. Alucard stilled at the flutter of eyelashes against his neck. He dared not move again, not until she strained in his arms, and he felt the parting of her lips, the tip of her tongue on his skin.

Tenderly, he took her chin between his fingers, drawing back to have a better look and see what his desperation yielded. 

Greta watched him through narrow slits of reddened eyes, her lips bruised, his blood still staining her teeth. Relief and guilt crashed into him like a tidal wave at the confusion in her eyes. 

“Do… Do you know who I am?” Alucard tried, gaze roaming over her.

Pain furrowed her brows. Her eyes scrunched shut, and when Greta opened them, they shone crimson and catlike in the evenfall. Alucard despaired. What if she would not remember who he was? If she didn’t, if she didn’t, then he had damned them both for nothing.

“Adrian…” she rasped, the voice of one awoken from a deep sleep.

Alucard clung to her like a sinking man. “That’s right. Adrian. I’m here, I’m here,” he brought her close again as the woman drowsily nuzzled his neck.

“The colors…” Greta said, “I see… everything vibrates… Trevor... Sypha... worried.”

Alucard cradled her to him. “It’s a part of the process. Can you... how do you feel right now?”

“I….” she murmured, “... thirsty…”

Alucard shivered and heaved a sigh, shuddering as fangs grazed the skin of his throat, unsure, searching.

“Have me,” he whispered into her hair, “go on,” Alucard hedged, hissing as she suddenly fastened to him with a strength that would have broken anyone else’s bones, latching onto him with a savage bite into the skin of his neck. His arms wound around her, her legs coiled around him.

“Taste…” Greta mumbled as blood dribbled in scarlet rivulets down the pale column of his neck, his chest. “... good.”

Alucard fell back with her on the bed, weaved fingers through her hair as his features crumpled in pain. “I’ll always be here,” he said. “Now, so will you,” he groaned at the weakening power of the fresh turning, the havoc it was wreaking on them both. “I’ll make certain of it. I was… weak,” Alucard said, delirious as he softened beneath her onslaught, “and you may hate me, but I… I could not lose you…”

Neither heard the sudden crash and splinter of wood, nor saw the horrified faces gaping at them.

“I… ah—!” he gritted his teeth. She was not gentle, she knew not how to be. “I love you,” Alucard sighed, and held her tighter as she fed.

~~

#gretacard #castlevania netflix #castlevania fanfiction #greta of danesti #alucard castlevania #ruiniel:fanfiction

[clarafell]

 does it really have to be like this?  ❜

FORTY RANDOM QUESTIONS :  Accepting!

@wolfvirago

❝  Yes, it has to be like this... ❞  Homura murmurs to the kneeling blonde as they stand within the cemetery. Sayaka Miki's journey has ended, but Homura didn't get to meet her yet in this universe. Robin takes the loss roughly, so Homura joins her to pay respects to her grave. Sayaka's family tried to be hopeful for their missing daughter to reappear in the beginning, they really did. But one of the parents insisted on giving their daughter some kind of closure, heart already sunken to the bottom after printing out so many missing person posters.

A gravestone is prepared, but no body is buried below. Robin still comes to the grave, loyally bringing Sayaka's favorite flowers. Homura joins her this time, unable to see the older female come here all alone. She is worried about her, but what could she do to comfort her senior? She has seen this scene play out in the old world of witches. Their enemies have changed, but Robin is still hit with another loss.

No, that isn't correct. They are both hit with loss. But Homura has witnessed death far too many times. She has quietly attended so many funerals for Sayaka, even though the blue-haired girl didn't trust her when she was still fighting. Did Homura have no tears left to shed? She must look so frigid to Robin.

❝  I know she's gone, but it isn't like she's still lingering behind in eternal despair after she fell in battle... The Law of Cycles took her away. I'm sure your friend is in good hands now. ❞  Homura almost said our friend, but she caught herself. She never met Sayaka Miki in this rewritten universe since she came after Sayaka is guided away. Homura hoped that Robin would cheer up as soon as she said those words, but it didn't word that well.

Robin didn't understand that Sayaka has been saved from the fate of being a sword-wielding monster. Homura understood because she was the only one to remember the old world. How could she explain that Sayaka was spared from a cruel fate? She couldn't do it, not without looking like she's crazy. Homura has never been good at comforting anyone, so she isn't surprised that her words are falling on deaf ears. Homura decides to try a new approach:

❝  Let's go to that music store that she loved so much. I'll come with you, if it's too hard for you to do it. I'm sure she'll like that. She would probably hate it if you stopped going to that place you both liked because she isn't here anymore, wouldn't you agree? We can listen to music to honor her. ❞

#❛ ✧ ┊ arc ┊ pulling bittersweet arrows out of her heart. #❛ ✧ ┊ the fairy tale gets a little darker after midnight. answered. #❛ ✧ ┊ beware of those bloody thorns. ic. #wolfvirago #(she is trying so hard) #tw death

[koifrog]

Visited an old Victorian graveyard last night 😳

#cemetery #graveyard #death positive #grave #we fell into some sunken graves #judging by the lack of footprints in the snow I don’t think anyone visits there #so it makes sense #well go back in the spring to see it when the snow isn’t covering up several headstones #and maybe we’ll bring flowers! #anyway it was super cool #death tag #death #talk

[dameronology]

to all the pilots i've loved before {poe dameron} - 2/4

part two: laughter lines on tired eyes

summary: you’re in love with poe dameron. it’s both the most complicated and most simple thing in the galaxy - and it’s all shoved into a shoe-box under your bed, in the form of a thousand love letters. here’s to hoping he never finds them. (series masterlist)

warnings: this one's pretty angsty - mentions of death + loss

enjoy :)

- jazz xx

Poe had always been terrified of losing you. It came with the territory of his job, but a lot of it stemmed from the fact you were person who he was closest with.

Dear Poe,

He tried not to think about it, really. Why would he? There was no point in pondering upon depressing scenarios when you brought enough excitement to his real life. He'd always known to some extent that there was a chance you could be lost in battle but that was a thought he shoved to the back of his head. It was locked away in a chest in a dark corner - another thing he didn't need to think about.

It occurred to me today that I'm probably in love with you. At first, I thought I was always just really happy to see you, but then I realised this morning, a MONDAY morning when I normally despise everyone including you, that I actually really wanted to see you.

But some things in life were unavoidable, and being dragged into a meeting room with a solemn looking Leia Organa was one of them. For Poe, it was an uncomfortably similar scenario to one he'd faced 25 years earlier. The General was more tired now, though - tired of fighting, tired of the war, tired of having these fucking conversations.

I'm never going to tell you, but as you know, I am famously bad at containing my emotions and I had to put this....somewhere.

They always started the same.

"I'm sorry."

Poe frowned. "What's happened?"

I'm sure it'll pass. I've had loads of random crushes in the past but they all went away. Do you remember Larry, the guy from the hangar, who I fancied for like a week last summer? And that very brief crush I had on Han Solo? Huh, maybe I have a time.

"(Name)'s squadron was flying back from Coruscant when the fleet took a hit," Leia's voice was shaky. Worlds away from her normal authoritative tone. "Three jets disappeared from our radars, including theirs."

"But you've found them, right?" He pushed. "You have to have found them-"

"- we've sent out several search parties," she cut him off. "They haven't found any wreckage on nearby planets, but that's good news, because it means they might have not been knocked down. It might be that they diverted to another planet to lay low for a few days."

I think it's the way you smile at me. You might not notice it, but you have these little creases by your eyes, and your lips always upturn even when you try to resist laughing. I really like your hugs too.

Poe sat up in his seat, heart rate suddenly picking up to a speed that almost beat that of his X-Wing. Clammy hands, sweaty palms, little black dots beginning to form at the edges of his peripheral vision. Suddenly, he was eight years old again, gripping the sides of his chair, throat as dry as the desert on a hot summer's day; brown eyes filled with sorrow and tears, feeling like a punch to her goddamn throat. She hadn't shaken that vision out of her head, not ever - and now, here it was all over again - the same face, the same creased brown, the same eyes. They were more tired now, with laughter lines etched around the sides, brown irises a little darker and more sunken. But Poe's eyes had never lost that spark - it had dimmed a little bit, but it was still there. Whether it would be after all this was hard to say.

And just...well it's you really, isn't it? It's the way you go out your way to make me smile when I'm sad and the way you'll fight anyone who makes me mad.

"Let me lead a search party," he begged. "Please, I'll find them in now time-"

"- Poe, you're too close to the matter," Leia replied. "You can help, though."

"Anything," Poe said. "I'll do anything."

"We've been trying to locate the back-up plans that (name) prepared for the mission - they should include a list of potential safe spots," she explained. "If you can find that list, we'll begin searching them."

"Have you tried their quarters?"

"I didn't want to invade their privacy," Leia said. "But if you happen to have a key, then-"

It's everything. It's your resilience and your humour and the way you see the best in everyone. The way you're never afraid to fight for what you believe in or stand up for what's right.

She was cut off by the sound of Poe's chair legs screeching against the floor. He was up in a split second, flying out the room without another word. His fists were balled up as he stormed down the corridor, nails digging into the palms of his hands - the pain of them piercing his skin was merely a reminder that all this was real. It wasn't a nightmare. He wasn't going to wake up and find you asleep in your room, safe and sound.

If Leia was right, and you were just laying low, would you not have said something to him? Found your own way to pass the message on? It wasn't like you to just disappear without a trace. You were always the organised one; the one who carried band-aids for when he inevitably burnt himself on a soldering iron, and the one who stitched him up every time he came staggering back from a mission, covered in minor scratches that he had heroically labelled battle scars.

You're amazing and I'm so lucky you're my best friend. This war is fucking awful but having you by my side makes everything a little less fucking awful.

Your room was just as you'd left it; tidy, but lived in. The jacket you'd stolen from him two years ago was strewn across your desk chair; the desk itself was piled high with random papers and forms, and there was a photo beside them of you, him, Finn and Rey. Some of your clothes were tossed on the bed, and your spare pair of boots was dumped in the middle of the floor.

Poe quickly scanned the room, before rifling around the sheets on your desk - but, to no avail. They were just random notes, and what looked like a letter from your father. He tried to recall any thing that might point to where you kept your mission plans - there had been the time you'd leant him your X-Wing maintenance guide, which was in a box under your bed.

This is probably something I'll take to my grave. Maybe I'll tell you about it in like 20 years when we're married to different people and meet up for Life Day. And I'll be all like 'hey, Poe! This one time when we younger, I was in love with you' and we'll laugh about it.

Falling to his knees onto the floor, Poe flipped your duvet up and began to peer underneath. Dust bunnies, a maintenance kit, your old blaster, the book he leant you nine months ago, and a box full of papers. After pawing about for a minute, he pulled the shoe box out and tore it open.

Now, it should be said that you had never considered the possibility that Poe would ever look under your bed without you knowing. Why would he? Unless he was creeping about, of course - but he'd never do anything like that. It wasn't in his nature, and you'd put the fear of god into him more than enough times for him to be clever enough not to do that. This was different, though; it was literally a matter of life and death.

I guess that means I think we'll still be friends in 20 years. And 40 and 50 and 60 and until we're old and wrinkly and too senile to fly a jet. I love you now and I'm sure I'll still love you then.

Tipping the papers out onto your floor, Poe crossed his legs and began to search through them.

He didn't see it at first.

All the letters that said dear Poe, I love you.

When he did, his heart stopped. Like, that full on, gut clenching, air-stealing, pulse pausing stomach drop. It only further added to his theory that this whole fucking terrible day was just a dream - but maybe, just maybe, this bit was a little less terrible.

Hands shaking (now for a different reason), Poe grabbed the first letter from the pile. It was dated to just over a year ago.

Love, (name)

There was a lot to unpack; firstly, you'd been in love with him for a fucking year. And you'd brought up the secret crush on Han Solo that you swore to never talk about - and did you really think he'd ever be too senile to fly a jet? Poe would have been insulted if that first revelation hadn't reduced his entire thinking capacity down to one, tiny brain cell.

Clutching the letter in his hands, Poe fell back against the bed. All this information - your disappearance and the declarations - was much too complicated for him to process all at once. The worst part was that you'd said you were going to take it to your grave and now...well now, you actually might have.

But there was still a chance - a chance that you were still out there, trying to find your way back to him. To your best friend.

You had to come back.

tags: @neverlandlibrarian @asphyzzz @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ubri812 @taina-eny @dessinemoiunehistoire @fangirl-316 @princessxkenobi @brandyllyn

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron angst #poe dameron imagines #poe dameron reader insert #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars imagine #star wars fluff #star wars angst #star wars imagines #star wars reader insert

[dekuskacchan]

Tell Me I’m Dreaming

Rating: T

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of injuries and hospitals, Bakugou Katsuki needs a hug

Summary: Katsuki wakes up in the hospital after the war to find that Deku is still unconscious.

A/N: Hello! SO chapter 298 is out now and it left me Feeling Some Things. i hope you like!

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28970094

Sequel

-

Pain.

It was the last thing Katsuki remembered before he’d blacked out. He was bleeding, dying, fighting with all his might, and then, as the adrenaline wore off, there was nothing but unbearable pain.

And Deku.

Deku.

Katsuki cracked his eyes open with a groan, taking in his surroundings. Instead of lying on rough, dirty terrain, he was now in a bed, his torn costume replaced by a scratchy, blue gown. An oxygen mask covered his face.

“Shit!” Katsuki hissed at the ache in his side as he lurched forward, ripping off the mask.

“He’s awake!!”

An entourage of classmates was there to greet him, shouting in excitement that he was okay, but Katsuki only had one thought on his mind.

Where was Deku?

--------------------------

“ARE YOU TRYING TO DIE?!" The little purple runt was gripping Katsuki by the back of his gown, trying to hold him back as he ran through the hospital.

“Midoriya hasn’t shown any signs of waking up,” they’d said.

“Shut the fuck up! You’re gonna kill me even harder by yanking me,” Katsuki snarled, shrugging off the leech as he marched on.

Deku was the only one who wasn't awake.

Katsuki was littered with wounds, but the sickening anguish he felt upon hearing those words was unlike anything he’d ever felt.

"He’s dead meat if he thinks he can die on me" Katsuki growled as he approached Deku's door, wrenching it open.

Katsuki stopped short, staring in disbelief at the sight before him.

Deku had experienced his fair share of injuries, but Katsuki had never seen him look anything like this.

He was lying supine, body heavily bandaged, with all four of limbs fully casted. His legs were in traction, and braces fit snugly on his shoulders. His breathing was so shallow that Katsuki could barely fucking tell he was even breathing at all. A monitor beeped quietly, tracking the slow, even rhythm of his heart.

Katsuki gritted his teeth, anxiety bubbling in his chest.

“Young Bakugou,” a soft, broken whisper startled Katsuki.

He was so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed All Might sitting at Deku's side. He looked like shit, skin pale as a ghost, eyes more sunken than usual.

Good.

“How-” Katsuki swallowed, “how is he?.”

“He’s…stable,“

“Don’t fucking sugarcoat it,”

All Might sighed and nodded.

“All four of his limbs were shattered, and he has some broken ribs. He’s been comatose for two days,” his voice was grave, “the doctors have no idea when he’ll wake.”

The words felt like daggers, twisting in Katsuki’s chest, gouging out his already bleeding heart and ripping the air from his lungs.

No, no no no, this isn’t real. How is this fucking real?

“--stopped the internal bleeding,” distantly, Katsuki heard All Might speaking, but he wasn’t paying attention.

A coma. He’s in a fucking coma.

Images flashed through his mind. Deku, destroying his body with each desperate punch. Deku’s shocked cry when Katsuki launched himself into All for One’s tendrils to protect him. Deku’s mangled body falling to the ground beside him. Deku, Deku, Deku, Deku was fucking dying-

“--know this is hard for you too, young Bakugou,” All Might was still rambling, and a molten rage rippled through Katsuki’s body.

How is he so fucking calm?

“You...fucking asshole,” Katsuki growled, eyes narrowing, “you FUCKING ASSHOLE.”

All Might’s mouth fell open in alarm as Katsuki all but sprinted across the room, grabbing him by the collar.

“You- this is your fault, Katsuki seethed, “you lied to us, you hid information, you- you could have-”

“I know,” All Might nodded somberly.

“HAAH?!” Katsuki shouted.

“I know,” All Might’s voice was firm now as he looked Katsuki in the eyes, “I should have been more open with both of you. If I had, maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Katsuki was trembling in fury, blind to all but the overwhelming grief he felt, and suddenly his fist was colliding with All Might’s jaw. He reeled back with a groan as a searing blast of pain surged through his injured shoulder and abdomen.

All Might grunted and rubbed his face, but he seemed unsurprised. Like he fucking knew he had this coming. It pissed Katsuki off even more.

“Alright, I deserved that,” he grunted, eyes widening in concern when Katsuki doubled over in pain, “but, young Bakugou, you need to rest-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki spat, “Deku almost fucking died.”

Logically, Katsuki knew that All Might was just as helpless here as he was, and he was suffering too, but for some reason that was making Katsuki even angrier. Angry at All Might and his fucking secrets, angry at Deku, at Shigaraki, everyone in this fucking hospital, at himself-

“So did you,”

Katsuki flinched at the memory, balling his hands into fists.

“That’s- that’s fucking irrelevant.”

“No, it’s not. If it weren’t for your quick thinking, young Midoriya might not be here right now. You’re right to be angry. But please, be angry at me, not-”

“I am angry at you!” Katsuki roared.

“You’re angry at yourself too. You shouldn’t be,”

Katsuki sank to his knees in defeat. White-hot bile rose in his throat, choking him as he tried to speak.

All Might gently rested a hand on his uninjured shoulder.

“Please, rest. You’re going to cause yourself further harm.”

“He...what if he- he can’t-” Katsuki stuttered, pressing the heels of his palms into his bloodshot eyes to prevent tears from falling.

“He won’t,” All Might tried to comfort him, but Katsuki could tell he was scared too, “this is an excellent hospital, the doctor’s are doing everything they can.”

“Well they’re not fucking doing enough,” Katsuki snapped.

“I’m worried, too. But we can’t lose hope, young Bakugou.”

Katsuki felt All Might kneel beside him.

“I’m sorry,” he was on the verge of tears, too.

“Fuck you. You should be,” Katsuki grumbled, but it lacked the venom he’d intended.

A sudden knock startled both of them. Katsuki raised his eyes to see Present Mic’s head peeking through the cracked door. He looked like shit, too.

“Aizawa wants to talk to you,” Mic murmured, “and you should be in bed, Bakugou.”

“Tch. You should go to hell,” Katsuki growled.

All Might nodded solemnly as he stood, offering a hand to Katsuki to help him up, but it was stubbornly batted away.

“At least sit in a chair, then, young Bakugou,” All Might sighed reluctantly, “I will return shortly. Please, be careful," and with that, he was gone, closing the door behind him.

Katuki shifted his gaze to Deku. He watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed quietly, listening to the steady beeping of his heartbeats on the monitor.

I might never get to tell him.

Katsuki clenched his teeth, struggling to maintain his composure as the thought reverberated through his mind.

I’ve been a fucking coward and now I might never get to tell him.

Deku had always watched Katsuki so closely. He was always watching, always reaching out to him, always had a hand open for him- but now that Katsuki was finally reaching back, Deku's hand was gone.

Suddenly, Katsuki had never felt more alone, and the dam broke.

He hunched over, slamming his fists on the ground as broken sobs wracked through him. His injured body screamed in protest, but he didn’t care. All of his wounds fucking paled in comparison to this- this was agony.

“Wake up, you asshole,” he gasped, gripping the side rails of the bed, “you can’t just fucking die on me.”

The tears were flowing freely now, blurring his vision, burning hot against his skin.

“Aren’t- aren’t you supposed to be the fucking chosen one? Don’t you want to win and save everyone? You can’t win if you’re dead,” Katsuki cried.

He was dizzy. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, nothing existed except this overbearing, unwavering hurt.

“You can’t die. Don’t fucking die on me.”

Katsuki was helpless as he spiraled, choking on tears as he pleaded for Deku to just fucking wake up already, until he was finally spent.

He was more exhausted than he’d ever been in his fucking life.

His body slumped, head dropping to the mattress and arms falling limp at his side. There was nothing he could do, and he knew it.

He had never felt so powerless. All he could do was sit here and fucking wait for Deku to wake up.

But what if he never does?

“Please wake up, Deku. I need you,” Katsuki whispered hoarsely, raising a weak hand to hold Deku’s arm.

“Just don’t fucking die.”

Katsuki wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that. He was drifting, falling, desperately clinging to Deku as his only anchor to reality, and then suddenly, the heart monitor picked up speed.

His mind raced with fear. Shit, shit shit shit where is the fucking doctor? He’s--

Deku stirred beside him, grimacing as his limbs budged, and Katsuki’s own heart skipped a beat.

“Deku?” he whispered.

There was no reply. Deku’s face slowly relaxed, his body unmoving, and Katsuki hung his head. His mind was playing cruel tricks on him now, not fair--

“Ka-"

Katsuki’s head snapped up once more, and without thinking, he reached up to cradle Deku’s face. He was searching for any tangible proof that this was real, that he wasn’t dreaming, he really just heard his voice--

Tired, green eyes cracked open to meet Katsuki’s, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Kacchan, is that you?” Deku croaked.

“Yeah, Deku, it's me.”

Deku’s eyes welled up with tears as he smiled, and Katsuki’s anxiety instantly melted away.

“Kacchan.”

-

A/N: WHOOPSIE aha I made pain :’)

#i love all might but he really needs to be clocked in the face #cmon man #these boys have me EMOTIONAL they love each other SO MUCH #usghbus #bnha #bnha 298 #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha fic #bkdk #Bakudeku #Midoriya Izuku #bakugou katsuki #toshinori yagi #all might #birdie writes #my fic

[thewalkingdead-imagines]

TWD - Negan Imagine ~ “Find Me”

Imagine about the 18th episode of season 10

Summary: Maggie’s arrival in Alexandria puts a strain on Negan and the Reader’s relationship, that feeds off their worst fears and forces them to work through their pain and panic about their future together 

Dusk was falling over Alexandria, lulling it slowly but surely into its mellow, dusty blue light. The sun had entirely sunken behind the treeline by now, leaving the air stripped off its warmth and brisk as it flowed into the small woodhouse by the walls.  Negan had driven his last nail into the planks of the damaged house merely a half hour ago, frowning and unusually quiet since the moment Maggie and her son had walked into Alexandria. He’d barely said a thing since then and neither had you, too tense and shocked even though both of you had known that this moment would come one day or another.  With a deep sigh, you moved in to start and collect the medical utensils you’d just used on your last patient, hoping that preparing dinner back at your house would allow Negan to distract himself a little.  The loud squeaking of the wooden floor planks made you flinch up slightly and shoot your glance towards the open door in a split second as a figure shielded the last light from falling inside. “Hey”, Daryl grumbled as he glimpsed at you and raised his hands slightly in response to your reaction,”Just me.” “Oh hi”, you said, straightening yourself up from your crouched position over the table,”Sorry, I was just surprised. Thought I was the only one left here.” Daryl nodded slightly, his eyes wandering over the table with the last meds that you had to pack back up again before he looked back up. “There’s still someone at the infirmary?”, he asked, shaking his head slightly as you started to look him over, intuitively searching for any injuries or wounds on him that needed need treatment,“Not for me, for the newbies.” Maggie’s group. For a moment, you were a little startled before you caught yourself again and started to nod as you moved in to lay a bunch of bandages back inside the bag. “Yeah, Steve usually takes that shift so he should still be there for some time”, you said, gulping slightly as you tried to act as casual as you could, though this whole situation made you nothing but tense, “It’s only him though. Is a lot of care needed?” “Nah, they’re mostly fine...Maggie just settled ‘em down in one of the houses”, he mumbled with a slight shake of his head, before it got quiet for a moment and the question you’d felt pressing you from within finally slipped out of your lips. “Who exactly are they by the way?”, you asked, glimpsing at Daryl who visibly seemed to tense up,”I’m just curious.” Shifting from foot to foot Daryl looked away from you, his glance bouncing around the room before he cleared his throat slightly. “Her people. Ran into their community years back and lived there till some psychos destroyed it...Came back here to get a new safe place”, he grumbled as his eyes finally landed back on you and he rubbed his hand tensely over his arm, “One of ‘em followed them back here, killed a couple when we were outside until we could get him...that’s why we’ve been out there for longer, made sure that all of ‘me are gone.” You only nodded as you listened to the story, trying by all means to not show how tense you actually were. What had happened out there must have been horrible, and you had never been against taking people into Alexandria, but there was something about this all that rubbed you the wrong way.  Maggie was only back because her old community got attacked and they needed a new place. She left for years and was only back because of these events and directly rolled into the place as if she owned it, as if bringing a bunch of new people didn’t need to at least be talked about with the council, just to clear things up.  Maybe you were being oversensitive when it came to her, maybe not, but the thought that she might try to hurt Negan’s position within this community after leaving for years and only coming back because her new place failed to persevere brought a whole new wave of suspense and a sense of anger over you. “You’re done for the day?”, Daryl asked after you’d become quiet for a moment, visibly sunken into your thoughts. “Yeah I’m just finishing that up and then I’ll get back home”, you said, nodding towards the bag and brushing the tense feelings and thoughts out of the way for a moment as Daryl tilted his head and brought them right back with merely two words. “Negan’s there?”

“Yeah”, you only nodded, trying to act as if you hadn’t heard the slight stinger in his voice. You weren’t in the mood for this type of discussion, especially not now and not with him. ”Finished his work and already wanted to prepare some dinner.” “Things about him aren’t decided yet, y’know that right?” You’d known that he’d say something like this. You’d known it and still it got you more worked up than you already were. “I know that we can use any helping hand to built Alexandria back up”,you said, trying to keep your cool even though you could hear your own voice shaking slightly with suspense ,”And Negan has two healthy and strong hands that are pretty much needed right now.” Just like they were needed to kill Alpha. You suppressed this last part, for now. You knew your half brother more than well enough to know which kind of comments would make him shut down immediately and though there was an urge in you to repeat once more for him what would have happened to all these places without Negan’s help, you refrained from it. You wouldn’t shy away to throw it at him if things got more serious, but this right now was not the place or time. “We didn’t get to have these type of things for all these last years... we’re just enjoying whatever we can get”, you only added, calmer now and a bit more conciliable though that didn’t let the slight frown on Daryl’s face to vanish. “Well”, he grumbled, glimpsing at you through the brown strands of hair that fell into his face,”Do it for as long as you can.” Clenching your jaw you stared at him, growing more hostile with every passing second. That remark wasn’t needed, he could have just kept it for himself, just like you had done it for the sake of the moment. You could feel the anger starting to built up within you, starting to push you more and more back into your defensive mode as you let out a sharp breath. “He’s earned his spot”, you said, throwing in the last salve that had laid on the table into the bag before you shut it and glanced back up at Daryl,”So I hope that we can do it for a very long time.” A mere huff fell from his lips and he only nodded before he started to walk back towards the door and grumbled his last words to you. “See you around.”

The encounter with Daryl left you with even more tense than you already had been since the moment Maggie had walked back into Alexandria, so much that you hurried to get out of the house and walk back home as soon as Daryl was gone. The cool evening air barely helped cooling yourself down as well as the worries that kept on pressing in on you, trying to creep back into your head and turn everything upside down. A thick sigh left your lips as you moved from the grassy underground that surrounded the houses by the wall onto the blacktop of the street and passed by the last few workers who were out here, doing their job. A few of them carried wood towards the other side of Alexandria where the walkers had left a smaller hole in the wall that still needed to be fixed and a few others carried shovels and a small wheelbarrow that was filled with some unearthed wildflowers towards the graveyard that had been damaged by the walking dead as well. A tight breath left your lips as you walked past it, watching the workers move into the back where most graves still needed to be fixed with new or fixed crosses and flowers, and yet it wasn’t any of those graves that made you halt, but one in the front. It was the freshest grave, the cross already fixed and with new flowers already planted by its side and even from your spot on the street you were able to read the name of your friend that was carved into the light wood. You missed him. You barely had time to grieve and process what Dante had done to him, nor had you been able to realize that he was gone.  During the last days, you’d often found yourself turning around in the infirmary, wanting to ask him something only to realize that you would never have the chance to do so again. Things at the infirmary were working fine, but it wasn’t the same, especially because you hadn’t just lost a colleague but a friend, one of the only people who’d never judged or distrusted you because of your relationship to Negan. Someone who you’d been able to talk about to about random things, whether it was about the infirmary and medicine, stuff that was going on in Alexandria or anything that just seemed interesting at the moment.  Now, whenever you seemed to talk to someone it lead back to your relationship, to you having to defend it as well as Negan’s new found freedom, just like with Daryl just now. You were tired of it, of these discussions that were always the same and of the helplessness to not be able to decide what was happening in your life. All you wanted was to live peacefully with Negan in that house and built something up with him.  You didn’t ask for more, just that.  A tight breath left your lips as you glimpsed at the grave again, trying to keep a lump from growing in your throat as your eyes caught the tiny teddy bear by the cross Rosita must have put there with Coco. “Fuck”, you mumbled to yourself, trying to blink the first tears away that had shot into your eyes before you forced yourself to move further down the street, trying to keep your mind from traveling into darker places, places that would tell you that Siddiq’s grave and the graves of all these other people were only proof of how easy it was to still lose loved ones at any given moment. Of how easy it still was for you to lose Negan. Though you only wanted to come home as fast as you could, you took the extra route around the lake in Alexandria’s midst, trying to let the walking and the colder growing air calm your head down and snap back to normal. Unsurprisingly, it only helped semi-well and you still felt tense when you walked up the porch of your home, only held together by the thought to enjoy any time you could get with Negan in here. “I’m home”, you called out as soon as you shut the door with a small thud behind you and felt the scent of Negan’s dinner fill the air. “Hey Baby”, you heard him call back as you found him standing by the stove, frying some vegetables in the pan along with the portion of boar that you’d gotten after a group went out to hunt yesterday.   “Smells good”, you said, letting your bag down to the floor before you moved in to wrap your arms around Negan from behind and peeked at the simmering meal. “Sure hope it also tastes good”, he said, forcing up a smile that broke through the tension that still visibly laid over his face as he turned just enough to press a small kiss over your lips. “I’m sure it will”, you mumbled back, nuzzling your nose into the fabric of his shirt while you could feel his tense body shifting slightly. A small groan left his lips as he flexed his back and shoulders a little, tensed up not only due to the Maggie’s reappearance but also the work he’d done all day. “You wanna go take a bath together later on?”, you asked, peaking up at him as you loosened your embrace around him to stroke your hand softly over his strained shoulders, hoping that the bath could be yet another distraction for the both of you,”can do wonders.” “Yeah”,you only heard Negan say with a nod, no cocky grin or wolfish remark as usual, and even though it was a ridiculously small detail, its absence only showed you more how fraught he truly was. ”I think the food is done.”

Oddly silent you moved over with him to the already set table and got some of the food onto both of your plates and started to eat, though neither of you seemed truly hungry after today’s events.  You tried to get something down, but the suspense that filled the room was so palpable that it closed up your throat and weighed so heavily down on you that you found yourself more poking into our food than actually eating it. It was the same for Negan, he was barely eating and what concerned you more, he wasn’t talking at all.  The suspense-filled silence seemed to take up everything and kept you locked into your spot, unsure of what do do or say while Negan only seemed to tense up more with every passing minute until his voice cut through the silence. “That kid has no Dad ‘cause of me.” Your glance shot up to him the moment he spoke it out, feeling your heart sinking as you watched him gulping thickly without looking up once, he only stared at the wood of the table as if it was the only thing keeping him from breaking. A trembling breath fell from your lips as you slowly moved in and grasped his hand, squeezing it softly as you tried to find the right words without making the situation harder than it already was. “There’s a lot that lead up to that point, it wasn’t just you”, you mumbled, only to see Negan’s eyes shooting up to you while a thick huff left his lips. “Well I was the one swinging the bat, wasn’t I?” “You thought that we’d killed a whole outpost of people just to steal supplies.” Your eyes were locked onto his as you spoke, and though you tried to keep your voice firm you were insecure and unsure of how to go on as well. You were aware of the shit Negan had done in the past, but he’d paid his price and suffered enough having to work through them in these years down in the cell and you didn’t want him to fall into these deep holes again, nor did you want to lose the view for the bigger picture. A lot of things had went down back then, and not only Negan had made mistakes. ”You did those things in that night because of it and you didn’t even know she was pregnant”, you added, giving his hand another soft squeeze, “Not saying it was right but we all did shitty things back then that lead to a whole lot of deaths and destruction.” “Doesn’t change that I’m ultimately the one who made that kid fatherless.” His voice was rasp but harsh as he shook his head and moved his hand out of your grasp, running it down his face as he let out another deep sigh. “I don’t even fucking know how to feel about that myself”, he scoffed as he stared back down at the table,”But I sure as shit know that me delivering the hits in the end is all that counts to them”, “It shouldn’t...we’ve all taken the life of someone who was a loved one to someone else”, you mumbled after a moment of silence, starting to poke back into your food as if it would help you handle this while your voice became more tense,“Don’t wanna know how many kids ended up without a parent because of the things we did at that outpost or anywhere else.” “Well, thats not how anybody out there’s gonna see it.” “Yeah then it would be time to hold up a mirror for them”, you said, feeling the restlessness and anger Daryl had whirled up back at the woodhouse creep back up, “You know what Rick would’ve done with a group if that outpost had been ours and it had been our people  that had been slaughtered in their sleep?” A heavy but trembling breath rumbled through your chest as you looked over at Negan, growing more agitated as you thickly gulped. “He surely wouldn’t have just killed two. Gracie’s only here and grows up to be Aaron’s daughter because Rick killed her birth father. Her mother was likely killed too when they attacked that other outpost during the war. It’s funny how no one ever talks about that”, the words just flowed out of your lips, fueled by the pent up desperation and even fear that had simmered within you, “So if anyone tries to make you look like a monster or whatever I won’t shy away anymore to repeat these things for them...Everybody has done horrible shit. You, Rick, everybody’s who’s inside these walls including me.” Negan didn’t even look up at you, he just kept staring at the table as you placed your fork next to the plate, almost letting it fall with a clatter against the ceramic as you felt the hunger leaving your body once for all, replaced by an upset feeling that was spreading through you and let you heat up. “I won’t just let Maggie or whoever else try to make them turn on you again after you’ve earned more trust”, you said, audibly stressed,”The trust that you deserve after ripping your ass off for them.” A thick sigh left your lips as you stared at Negan, just hoping he’d look up at you while the ugly mix of helplessness, fear and anger crawled further up your body and made pinch the bridge of your nose for a moment as you felt them taking you over. “I’m just sick of these fucking new things that always pop up when things seem to get better”, it left your lips more broken, trembling and yet angrier than before as Negan’s glance finally shot up to meet yours, though the icy stare within them was the opposite of what you had wished for. “Well then maybe you should reconsider being with me”, he scoffed, hitting you with shock and confusion as you furrowed your brows at him. “What kind of comment is that?” “’Cause this is how it’s always going to be”, he snapped, the pent up tension step for step breaking out if him as you still stared wide eyes at him,”We’ll never find our goddamn peace and all these people are always gonna hate me and the fact that we’re together.” “Not everybody hates you”,you quickly retorted, for now trying to push that shitty remark away from you and onto the fact that he was scared too,”There are people who’ve grown to trust you more and my colleagues at the infirmary are all good with you being out and working, and I’ll do my best to keep it this way.” “Well but those who are in higher positions do”, he let out, a bitter chuckle falling from his lips as he shook his head before his cold stare landed back onto you while his voice grew louder ,”Aaron was ready to execute my ass and he’d still do it just given the chance. Same fucking shit with Nora and Kyle. Those who spoke up against hanging me were Siddiq and Laura and they’re fucking dead now too. Maggie’s ready to slaughter my ass and your brother would be just fine with it as well. Things wont’t stay the same as they were during the last fucking days and it sure as shit won’t get better now.” Staring at him you let out another tight breath, still holding onto your last piece of hope despite your own fears as you gulped thickly and shook your head softly. “We can’t say that for sure. Gabriel’s more on our side. Maggie isn’t a member of the council and Daryl is already being more accepting of you than he was before-“ “Goddamnit (Y/N)”, Negan’s booming voice suddenly cut you off, loud enough to make you flinch and stare wide-eyed at him as he rose up from his chair and glared down at you,”Don’t you get it?!” Your heart started to pump harshly against your chest as his loud voice sounded through the room, and you could feel yourself becoming overwhelmed with the situation while you watched the anger in him skyrocketing. “What we had these last few damn days wasn’t real, we lived in that small fucking time bubble of delusion and we both knew it would burst as soon as Maggie’d walk through these fucking gates”, he was yelling by now, his voice so heavy it made his chest shake while you were starting to tremble and felt tears shooting into your eyes as you stared up at him, still too shocked and startled to say anything while his yelling voice hit you again,”This was us pretending. We’ll never have that kind of life.” Tears were blurring your view now as you meet his glance, pumped up with fright, anger and desperation as you let out an upset sound. “I’m just trying to not give up”, you scoffed, though your voice was breaking as you stood up from your spot and pushed the chair angrily against the table as you glared at your husband ,”And don’t you fucking yell at me.” The first tears were rolling down your face as you turned away from him and and stumped towards the kitchen door, trembling breaths leaving your lips as you brushed them off your cheeks, “Screw this.” You were shaking as you rushed up the stairs, your face crunched up in pain and covered with tears that were running down your skin as you could still hear his voice booming through your head.  Negan never yelled at you. The last time you could remember him coming close to it was shortly after he got locked up, when helplessness and jealousy were eating him up. It had never happened again, not for all these years and the fact that it had happened now rattled you. He knew how much you hated being yelled at, he knew how much your past had sensitized you for it and you didn’t know how to handle Negan’s nor your your own emotions right now. You were both strained, both scared and it was your only explanation for his lash out. He could get loud, you’d seen it at the Sanctuary when he shut down Simon but he never lost control of himself during these moments. Not like now. When he yelled, he stayed under control and got back to business right after, so his lash out now, especially despite knowing how much you despised it was only proof of how scared and upset he truly was. This realization didn’t help though that the loudness of his voice and the cruelty of his words were pushing in on you as you let the door of your room fall with a loud thud into its lock and felt your emotions overwhelm you.  Heated up and trembling more and more tears started to shoot back into your eyes and rolled down your face as you rounded the bed and plopped down onto your side, feeling the mattress giving slightly in below you as sniffles left your lips. You were scared, you were so unbelievably scared. Scared of losing everything you’d worked for with Negan, scared of not ever finding your peace and worst of all, scared of losing Negan to a vengeful Maggie who was out for blood. If anything, walking past the graveyard had made this ugly feeling of fright only grow and you could feel the things you’d tried to shut out for the last days rolling over you.  Being scared of losing Negan after he saved Lydia. Living with the fear of not knowing if he was okay or even alive during the time he was gone.  Being nearly poisoned with Dante’s water.  Losing Siddiq. Constantly having to persuade others, especially Daryl, that Negan was up to good out there and wasn’t a threat, even during your time at the Hilltop. Finally getting Negan back and being glad to have him in safety and freedom only to have it threatened again with Maggie’s sudden reappearance merely two days later.  You were exhausted. This all had happened in such a small time span and you were unable to process it properly, nor the fear that you were feeling right now.  You were full on sobbing at this point, shaking and crouched over, with your elbows pressing into your thighs and your head buried into your hands that were practically soaked in your tears You couldn’t have her try to hurt or even kill him now only because he wasn’t in the cell anymore and stuck on the verge of taking his own life. You couldn’t keep on feeling so scared and worried all the time.  You just wanted to find your peace.  Slowly, you felt your body growing too exhausted to keep the sobs coming and instead, sniffles and small whimpers were only falling from your lips as you found yourself staring down at your wet hands, fumbling on them in a desperate try to distract yourself from your cruel thoughts. You weren’t even sure how much time exactly had passed since you’d stormed up here, your only indicator of time was the darkness that had by now taken up the firmament and the lamp on the nightstand you’d been forced to turn on, whose faint light was now falling onto you, your hands and the small diamonds of your wedding ring that glimmered in the light.  You silenced yourself as well as you could for a moment to hear the rustling that was coming up from the kitchen and living room. Negan had been quiet for a whole long time down there and now you could hear him clearly moving around. A shivering breath left your lips, unsure of what you should expect to happen before you started to hear heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, slow but steady as they started to get closer to your room. Gulping thickly you finally heard the creaking of the door as it slowly opened, while you still sat there with your back turned to him as he moved inside and softly shut the door behind him. For just another moment it stayed silent, only the slight squeaking of the floorboards below Negan’s weight was audible before you heard him speak up. ”I’m sorry”, he said, his voice heavy with guilt, so much you could hear a tremble through it,”I didn’t mean to lash out like that...I don’t know what’s going on with me, I-” He broke off, a shivering sigh filling his lips as you could hear him making a few, slow and careful steps towards the bed before he stopped again.  ”You were just trying and I went full asshole...I-...I shouldn’t have yelled at you. That was a fucking dick move...I’m sorry, I really am.” You didn’t look up yet, you were still fumbling on your hands, though you could tell that he meant it, you just didn’t know how to behave either. “I get it if you don’t wanna talk or want me to fuck off”, he breathed out, his voice still slightly trembling as he let out another sigh,”I do, I-” With the shaking of your head he halted quickly, growing silent again as you let out a small sigh. You didn’t want to fight with him. That really was the very last thing. You just wanted to talk it out and get all the shit you both had off your chests. In the end, you knew this all had only happened because you were both scared to death and while you knew that this wouldn’t just vanish you couldn’t have this fear hurt your relationship.  Slowly, you watched Negan round the bed from the corner of your eye, halting shortly before he got to you and gestured towards the spot next to you. ”Can I?” A nod of yours was enough to make Negan sit down beside you, a thick sigh falling from his lips as you could feel his glance swaying over you. The lump in your throat was quick to grow bigger again as you bit your lip and felt tears starting to fill your eyes as you finally glimpsed up at him. “I just want this fucking nightmare to end”, you said, your voice shivering and weak as your glance met his eyes that were bleary and slightly reddened as well ,”once one thing is done the next shit’s waiting for us. I hate this and I fucking hate having to have this goddamn discussion over and over again.” A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you brushed the dampness off your cheeks, sadly sure that you’d soon feel new tears running over them while your voice started to break as soon as you spoke back up again, “I don’t want Maggie to whirl everything back up and mess things up for us.” With knitted brows and sad eyes Negan glimpsed at you, pressing his lips onto one another before a stressed sound fell from his mouth. “I don’t know about the latter one but I’m sure she’s gonna whirl things up again”, he sighed, stroking over his beard while a thick gulp travelled down his throat,”Wish I could say otherwise.” You softly nodded as you could feel the tears in your eyes welling over, just in the very moment Negan reached up to stroke over your back, gently while you could tell that he was trying to hold his tears back. “But she can’t just walk in here and play boss..she’s been through a lot and that’s horrible but as soon as she’s back everybody acts as if she’s the center of the universe. Her pain isn’t more important than the one of others”, you let out, sniffling as you could feel yourself falling back into that hole of fear and panic that made you rattled and got you to all worked up again. “Carol has gone through losing a child far more than once, Michonne lost Carl and Rick, and Judith and to grow up without them”, you said, hot tears streaming down your face as it crunched up in pain and your voice grew shakier with every breath,”I’ve seen my damn family being ripped apart all at once, and you had to watch when that goddamn cancer killed Lucille.” You could see Negan nodding, could see a single tear rolling down your face as you sniffled and breathed sharply in, trying to keep your voice up even though the lump in your throat kept on growing. “Nobody’s expecting her to forgive or forget but she doesn’t get to make decisions about you, not after she just fucked off for six years and just came back cause that other community got screwed over”, you said, trying to keep talking in between the shaky breaths that shook through you before your fear took hold of you once for all and you could feel it breaking out of you as the stinging pain made itself a home inside your head. “I’m trying to see things positive but I...I’m scared”, you breathed out, your face twisting in pain as you felt yourself choking up,”I’m so so fucking scared.” You gasped for air as you could feel the thick lump in your throat keep on pressing in on you, felt the skin under your eyes becoming sore from the tears while Negan moved in, stopping his movements over your back to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer. “I’m scared that she’ll try to make them turn on you again and hurt you, I’m scared that I she’ll try to kill-”,your voice broke off, stopped by the sobs that started to shake through you again ,”I’m so scared of losing you, I-“ You broke completely off at that point, only able to cry now and let it all out instead of saying anything more. Negan moved in to hold your shaking body closer, grasp our legs to swing them over his lap and bring you into his embrace. You could feel him shaking too, could feel his heavy breaths and the harsh falling and rising of his chest as he cradled you against his body. You buried your head into the curve of his neck, just for once allowing all the pain and fear to flow out of your body with the sobs that erupted through you. You clung onto him as if you’d risk to lose him if you’d let go, sniffling and crying until your head was buzzing while Negan tightened his grasp on you and pressed a soft kiss against your temple. “I won’t let it come that far”, he mumbled against your skin, his voice strained though he did his best to keep it up ,”I got no damn clue how our life’s gonna turn out but I’m a tough motherfucker, right? I won’t die. I even survived those skin freaks.” He let out a shaky chuckle, audibly trying to keep his shit together for you within these moments though you deep down knew that he’d break down too. Your sobs grew quieter again and turned back into sniffles as you held onto him, desperately trying to believe his words before you slowly moved back, just enough to look at him and see the tears that were also burning in his eyes. Sniffling, you moved your hands to cup his face, stroking your thumbs over his wetted cheeks and his stubble while his bleary eyes ran over you and his arms were still keeping you close.  A thick sigh left his lips as he lowered his glance for a moment, gulping thickly before he glimpsed back up at you and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know how to feel”, he mumbled, tears still filling his eyes up to the rim. “I feel so fucking odd...some guilt, I-”,he breathed, stopping as he shook his head and the first tears started to fall down his cheeks again,”I had so much time to think about the shit I did back then, how fucking wrong I saw things, I-...I know we’ve been through this when I hit rock bottom in that cell but...” He pressed his lips onto one another before they fell open with another shivering sigh and his teary eyes fell back on you,”There are still moments when I ask myself how you were even able to fall in love with me back then.” You could feel your heart breaking all over again as you looked at your husband, tearing up again as you stroked the tears softly off his cheeks and gulped thickly. “I already saw the man in you that you are right now”, you mumbled, sniffling as Negan’s brows knitted again and it looked like something hit him just in this moment. New tears started to roll down his cheeks as a small whimper fell from his lips and you leaned closer, sure to have him look at you. “You’re sweet, and you’re loving and protective and the world just screwed with you and made you believe that you couldn’t keep others alive without this shit”, you mumbled, brushing your thumbs again over his wetted cheeks,”But you did your best to get your head on straight.” “I just, I know what it’s like to grow up without a Dad and I-”, he mumbled with trembling lips,”I don’t know what to fuckin’ think or feel or-” “That’s okay”,you said as you could hear his voice break off,”You don’t need to put a finger on that.” Negan slowly nodded, lowering his glance for a moment as he let out a shivering breath and wrapped his arms tighter around you. “But there was no way for you to know”, you added, a feeling within you urging you to make sure that he knew that despite everything,”You didn’t deliberately kill a kid’s father. Fuck, you didn’t go for Rick that night because of Carl.” Negan’s glance was still lowered as you gulped and shifted slightly. “I know what happened was shit, I-”,you started, trying to just keep Negan from falling into that hole again that was threatening to eat him up ,”Regardless of what happened that night, you did everything in your power to show that you’re good at heart. You can’t make the past unhappen but you can change the present, and you have.” A sniffling fell from Negan’s lips as he glimpsed back up at you, yet another tear falling down his face as you leaned in closer to him. “You have”, you assured with another nod, leaning in to press a delicate kiss over his lips, allowing it to linger for a moment and let Negan melt against you before you backed just enough off to look at him and saw the doubt that was still filling his face. “I’m not sure if it’s enough, or if it matters-”, he broke off, his face scrunching up again as you let go of his face and instead wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. Just like it had happened with you before, it was breaking out of Negan now and you could feel your emotions overwhelming you all over again as you heard your husband’s sobs that broke your heart and made that stinging pain shoot through you once more. Holding onto each other you sat on the bed, just letting it all out. Just like the both of you actually needed to. During the past time it had nearly always been either one of you trying to be strong for the other as they broke down and now the both of you just held onto each other and allowed yourselves to feel your emotions hit you with all their force.  It hurt, it hurt like hell but deep down you both knew that you needed this to unburden you, to free yourselves at least from the pressure and pain that had been weighing down on you for too long. It didn’t know how long you sat there like that on the bed, for you long you held on to each other until the sobs and whimpers got silent and you were just cuddled up against one another.  Breathing deeply through you felt Negan cradling you against his body, pressing another kiss against your temple, still remaining quiet for a moment before he spoke up, his voice still strained. “Does that offer for a bath still stand?”, he asked, backing slightly away, just enough to look at you and move his hand up to wipe the last bit of remaining wetness of your cheeks,”I think we could use that.” Slowly, you nodded, taking only another moment before you moved your legs off his lap and stood up, groaning slightly as you needed to feel your body adjusting to standing again after remaining in nothing else but an embryo position for the last while. Negan moved up as well, stretching his long limbs before he grasped your hand and moved it up to place a kiss on its back, giving you another loving look before he lead you towards the bathroom.

Hot water quickly started to pelt into the bathtub and filled it up step by step, while Negan moved towards the cabinet by the sinks, to look for some bath oils or bombs before he looked up into the mirrors and let out a strained chuckle. “Fuck we both look puffed up like a baboon’s ass”, he mumbled, looking from the mirror back at you as you let out a small laugh, seeing your mirror image that looked just like you expected. Your eyes were red and puffy, already a little less swollen than they must have been back at the bed but still more than enough to know how long the both of you had sat there and let your emotions take themselves out on you. Negan let out a small groan as he crouched down to move through the stuff in the cabinet, pushing a couple bottles of shampoo to the side before he got a look at the bathing supplies and eventually pulled a bathbomb out that was a wild swirled mix of blue and purple. “This one’s with lavender”, he said, getting back on his feet as he held it up for you,”Think we could use some of that calming shit, huh?” You quickly nodded, very much agreeing with him on this. Your head was still buzzing, clearly exhausted by all the crying and you could need something as calming as the scent of lavender to soothe you a little. Moving back towards you Negan plopped the little ball into the water, quickly seeing it go out in all of its color variety as it spread through the water that kept on streaming into the tub. “Looks like unicorn puke”, Negan joked, nodding towards the lilac water and the bubbles the spread over its surface and got bigger and bigger with every passing moment. “Yeah, it does...doesn’t smell like it tho”, you mumbled with a small chuckle back, slowly freeing yourself from the shroud of exhaustion the while in the bedroom had put on you. Things obviously still weren’t the way you both wanted them, but you felt a little less bottled up and tense, and most importantly less burdened after giving your emotions the valve they needed. ”And it has surprise bubbles. That’s nice”, you added, nodding towards the bubbles that had by now taking in all of the surface while Negan nodded with a crooked grin and started to peel the clothes off his body. “C’mon let’s get outta that shit”, he grumbled as he pulled his shirt over his head and pushed his pants down his hips while you started to do the same, peeling yourself out of your clothes step by step until you could only feel the warm bathroom air covering your skin. Groaning, Negan crouched a little down and leaned over to shut the tap off and dip his hand into the bathwater, testing it before he looked with a small grin over his shoulder “Don’t wanna burn my dick.” “Yeah I can’t have that”, you teased back, bringing the grin on his face to widen a little and bring some warmth back into you after seeing him so devastated all evening long. “It’s good though, we can get in”, he mumbled before he carefully stepped into the water and let out a satisfied groan as soon as he lowered his body into the tub and stretched his hand out for you to join him. Quickly, you took it, moving in and feeling the warmth of the water surrounding your feet before you lowered yourself to sink in between Negan’s legs.  “This is nice”, you mumbled as the warm water and its soothing scent started to surround you and Negan moved in to gently pull you against his wet chest. His arms wrapped around you as he nuzzled his nose into the curve of your neck and breathed deeply out, cradling you softly while it got quiet again and a silence set in. You didn’t break it, didn’t fall back with him into your usual goofiness that you’d have in these moments but instead, just closed your eyes and enjoyed his closeness, his warmth and the hot water.  That was all that you needed right now, a break of everything that was currently happening around you and a relief of the ordeal you’d both put yourselves through this evening, and for once, it felt like you were truly able to focus and think about nothing else but this bath and the man who was holding you in his arms. You just remained like that with him, only feeling him scooping some water over your shoulders and arms from time to time or drawing small, lazy patterns over your skin with his fingers, though mostly, you just laid cuddled up to each other within the water’s warmth.  You enjoyed it, all of it, Negan’s touches, the soothing scent and the hotness of the water until it started to grow cold and you switched it for the warmth of the bed.  Held by Negan, with your back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around you you found yourself laying underneath the sheets, feeling him nuzzling his nose against your neck while your fingers softly and lightly brushed over his arm, just as he liked it. You were still soothing one another, still trying to reassure one another that you’d figure things out along the way, step by step no matter what the world would throw at you, just like you had always done. With a sleepy sigh you felt Negan adjusting himself a little, pressing a delicate kiss against the side of your neck before he interrupted the caresses of your fingers and moved his arm up, just enough for his hand to gently grasp your face and make you look at him in the faint moon light that streamed into the room. “We got each other, always”, he mumbled as his thumb softly stroked over your cheek and his drowsy eyes softened as he glanced down at you,”No matter what happens. No matter who tries to fuck with us...we got each other.”

#Negan #twd #the walking dead #negan fic #negan imagine #twd imagine #negan x reader #the walking dead imagine #negan imagines #negan fics #negan angst #twd 10x18 #negan's network #nts #negan series #twd imagines #thewalkingdead-imagines #negan fluff

[dysfuctional-family]

The IRR Pt. 2

{After a raid on the Interdimentional Rainbow Rocket home base the villains and everyone who works for them has been captured by strange people in armor and masks. so far, no one has been seriously injured, but all of this could quickly change. Click below the cut to read.}

!!TW for mentions of religious themes!!

Giovanni was led down to the "Main Land", the largest room in the IRR, located on the ground level. Many people had been led to this area both staff and soldiers, and to think all of this ended just as quickly as it started. Makes you question how long these masked assailants had been in the base. As he walked he heard the ever so recognizable yelling of their resident angry Unovan. The Italian honestly couldn't even tell what he was saying right now. All he knew is that death threats were involved.

It didn't take long for each team leader to be picked out of the crowd and brought outside. There were dozens of ships stationed outside... they stood no chance.

"Разделите их. по одному на каждом корабле." On of the masked people ordered, the leader from the looks of things. Each leader was taken to an individual ship, separating them so they couldn't form ant plan of escape. With the leaders of th IRR captured half of the fleet took off while th rest stayed behind to discourage any resistance.

Giovanni was silent throughout the ride, only eyeing the people around him and the ship he was being transported in. It all looked very futuristic, even for his standards. Far beyond anything they could ever hope to create. The ship was sleek and clean, its dark grey metal shimmering in the light blue lights. Then he began to think. The leader spoke Russian, as far as he was aware the only region that had Russian as a language commonly spoken was Sinnoh. Thats when he began to worry, if this was some alternate version of Sinnoh, if it was a Sinnoh where Cyrus won and was now ruling... what was going to happen to him and his team.

Giovanni wasn't given any more thinking time because they had arrived to wherever their destination was. He finally decided to say something, looking to the person in armor next to him.

"Just what do you hope to accomplish by bringing me and my co-workers here?" He asked firmly. He was only given a glance of acknowledgment I return. They then began walking again. They seemed to be in a large city. Large towers of white stone stood taller than anything he'd ever seen, roads weaving between buildings in layers. All of the main hustle and bustle was farther away as they were in a more remote are. That or the area had been locked down for their arrival. He and the others were taken into this large domed building, religious imagery carved into the walls. Symbols such as Arceus' spikes, the creation trio, Arceus itself, holy scripture, prayers, etc. It was all very impressive really...

The interior was just as extravagant, stained glass showing the story of Arceus hatching and creating the gods, the birth of the universe, the banishing of Giritina, all pretty standard for a church of this size... but everything seemed to shift halfway through. A human figure, who he could only assume was Cyrus, appears to the world shrouded in darkness and captures the gods. He takes them and forces them to do his bidding, but instead of destroying the world and creating anew the gods' power seems to instead rush into Cyrus. Overwhelmed with power he lashed out, destroying everything around him and tearing holes into reality itself. In the aftermath there was only destruction and this orb of godly energy. At least, that's what Giovanni could gleam from his experience reading stain glass pictures in church.

Suddenly all of the leaders were stopped in front of an old man. a very old man. He turned to look at the group, distain in his sunken in eyes. He was adorned with a robe and beads of various colors, modified priest attire from the looks of it. He supported his weight on a cane as he slowly walked up to Giovanni, seemingly knowing who he was.

"Hmm, Giovanni. Of all the people to do something like this, you were the last I expected." The man then eyed the rest of the leaders, eyes widening as his eyes fell on Cyrus. He stood up a little more straight as he looked back to the confused mafia boss.

"I am Saturn. Former admin of Team Galactic now priest of the people." He explained, much to the surprise of everyone but Cyrus.

"So, you've brought us here for what? Spill so we can get out of here." Cyrus practically demanded in a tired manner. Saturn looked to Cyrus, his face growing agitated.

"Hm. Very well. Giovanni Sakaki, why have my people been going missing and monsters attacking the innocent who are just trying to survive?' Saturn asked as his tone slowly became more aggressive. It took a second for the question to register but as soon as it did Giovanni responded.

"If that's why you brought us here I believe we have a common enemy. We've had an encounter with the man you're looking for and my own people are beginning to disappear." He explained smoothly. Those words surprised Saturn. He stepped back for a moment to think, humming as he did. The leaders looked amongst themselves, questioning practically everything that was happening at the moment.

"If this is true, then we have are all in grave danger. These creatures have been attacking our people for months, far longer than you've been around. Perhaps we could help each other to defeat a common foe." Saturn explained, making Maxie recoil in seemingly fear.

"Wait. He's been here for months?" He fearfully questioned. "In my home universe, months was all it took for him to tear down an entire country..." That news shocked everyone. There was a moment of silence after that news, the dread and horror of just how much danger everyone was in finally sinking in.

Saturn looked to the soldiers who had brought the evil team leaders before him. He waved his hand, dismissing them. He paced for a moment, pondering. Just what did this man want of them? The redhead seemed to know who this man was. He'd have to get some information from him after this meeting is concluded.

"If what you say is true, we are all in far more danger than we thought. This man must be stopped, his sins against nature cannot be forgiven."

"Then we are agreed. Working together could give us both some better protection and understanding of the current situation." Giovanni added.

"indeed. Apologies for our initial impression, but I'm sure you understand the circumstances are dire. Giovanni, Maxie, I'd like to speak with to further about this. everyone else if free to leave and return to your ship."

#tw religious mention #pokemon #writing #my art #pokemon giovanni #pokemon cyrus #pokemon maxie #pokemon saturn #ama #ask me anything #pokemon rainbow rocket #pokemon rr

[blankdblank]

Brother Dearest Pt 79

Wails of what some may claim to be of an inhuman nature quite commonly haunted the streets of Brooklyn as they did in every other city throughout the world. Wails of mothers who would be given flags and medals for their sacrificed sons and those dubbed missing in action. Proof that even when this war did end there was no winning involved not marred by this insurmountable pain for those families and those dear to them.

The Barnes home in the early hours of the day began the first of two stops. Noted as missing by the telegram in the hands of the two uniformed soldiers sent to deliver the message his mother’s wails and tears would never be forgotten by her young daughters Benji and Bernie who huddled in their room they had been ushered to at sight of who had come over. Two girls who had seen the worry on people’s faces as one question lingered from those they sat near to in Mass. Where was Bunny Rogers?

Steve had been widely known by everyone in town to have run off and join the war and on news of a Canadian school Eddie had moved with her to the northern neighbor of this country to be her guardian had melded into news of a Nursing degree and draft notice for Eddie. Up to the front line orphans had been rumored to be sent since no one would be missing them. And the fifteen year old girl on the cusp of sixteen who had been abandoned over a year prior had more than her fair share of worry from the town that could have stepped in earlier but didn’t to spare her this fate. No one knew how the Canadian Forces worked in comparison to theirs except for the Brocks up there who had been through it in the First World War who tried to keep their family in Brooklyn up to date with what little they had and would be told.

.

Down the road in Alberta eyes followed the telling black car from the War Offices there that came to a stop outside of the door to the home of your listed next of kin. Before they could knock out on the front porch they were met by a frightened stare on the woman who accepted the telegram. “This is the Brock residence, correct?”

“Yes,” she replied in a means to be calm with a trembling voice. “Is Eddie hurt?”

“No ma’am not to our knowledge, our notice today actually is in regards to Nurse Jaqiearae Pear.” Her mouth fell slack and he continued, “According to our reports the base they were assigned to was attacked.” Over her mouth her hand moved to muffle the sounds she assumed herself to be making but were entirely in her mind and heart. “Out of the Nurses there she is the only one not accounted for. It is with grave duty that we have to share that she has been marked as captured by the enemy.”

All she could do was shake her head and accept the telegram and head inside to collapse onto the couch. While the three men at home gravely accepted the message and reluctantly parted ways with the Soldiers and went inside to help soothe the upset members of their family so that one of them might be calm enough to share the news with Mama Brock back in Brooklyn.

.

“She’s barely sixteen!” Mama Brock almost screeched through the line at the word for word reading of the telegram. That was copied down by one of the guys when to her terrified tears and shrill wail that she poured all her pain into at the presumed loss of her adopted youngest daughter she was lost to the world around her for a good while.

Every Brock in the state came over and heard the grave news that had them all solemnly seated on every surface open including the ground when others had run out. Locked together with hands clasped in prayer for their youngest lost member who required so much protection in these troubling times, breaking only when the Priest on a return trip to speak with the Barnes brood to lighten their sunken spirits came to see what had been the trouble only to leave downhearted himself.

No one knew what the Germans could want with a sixteen year old Nurse. And they had to pray so hard to keep thoughts centered on that you were taken to be a Nurse and nothing more sinister. Someone high ranked was injured and you were the one they could catch off guard and bind to take to some remote home and watch over the wounded villain. You were safe and respected and well fed surrounded by military personnel with maps and weapons you could steal and break free to find the other soldiers. To find Eddie. They had to think that, you had the top marks in the degree you earned on a fast track to be eligible to move with Eddie, surely that would make you the most likely to be taken as a personal Nurse. Surely they wouldn’t have to worry, some obscure letter would arrive home one day asking for funds and a ticket under your alias. Some day you would be home with them again unscathed.

Lost for months little word had been able to be granted to anyone until a letter had elated shrieks in its being forwarded from the relatives in Canada that shared with it news from Eddie himself that Bunny was with him. Proven more so by a picture that the relatives had been given weeks later of planes that had been brought down. “She’s alive and safe and is a Medic now. We mailed a picture the War Office brought us. She’s built some sort of weapon that can tear planes from the sky and a suit for Eddie that protects him from gunfire.” Tears flowed and when that picture was received everyone in the family got more than a few minutes to cling to that image as if that could transfer a mental hug across the world to their duo lost in the wind.

.

Two stops this time American uniformed Soldiers were the bearers of bad news who first stopped at the cathedral where Father Thomas spotted them right off and turned from his task of straightening up the pews to approach the duo most likely in great need of counsel. “How might I help you gentlemen?” he asked upon reaching a few feet away from them.

“We are here to see a Father Thomas,” one said after reading the name on the sheet in hand again.

“You have found him. What is this concerning?” He asked and looked the duo over in their joint draw of breath for the second to speak.

“We have a notice for you about a Steven Grant Rogers.”

“For me? Is he injured?”

“While the mission is classified, Private Rogers in defense of the country managed to infiltrate a plane loaded with explosives aimed for home soil and brought it down. He died a hero.”

“Steve, Steven is dead?”

“Yes, Sir,” they both stated with firm nods to Father Thomas’ reeling pause to stare at the wall lost for what to do and how to send word to you particularly.

“He killed himself, you are certain of that? He is dead?”

“Yes, Sir. While there are no remains to return home to you we do have a copy of the paperwork and death notice including the next of kin form that he left all of his belongings to you.”

“Me?” the Priest asked then looked over the sheet and shook his head, “This can’t be right.”

The first Soldier spoke again and stated, “We do apologize for your loss, but Private Rogers is gone.”

“No, no,” Father Thomas stated with a shake of his head, “This sheet doesn’t mention his sister.” That furrowed the brows on the pair and he said, “He has a sister, and she, gets nothing? The apartment, his bank account…” he shook his head staring at the paper as the soldiers looked at one another, “He was all she had left and he kills himself and left everything to the church through me.”

The pair did shift their weight on their feet and Father Thomas asked forcing those rambling astonished thoughts form his mind, “Am I the only one you are in town to see?”

“No,” the second answered with a clear of his throat, “We are off to see the Barnes family.”

“They found James?”

“No,” they said glumly and Father Thomas nodded and pocketed his paperwork he folded in quarters.

“I will go with you. Mrs Barnes will not take this well, her husband has been doing poorly since word of their son’s capture.” They nodded and were glad for the person to give them the all clear when they had shared all the news they had at his signal to let them flee the terrible task under watch of so many people in the streets and buildings above. True to his fear Mr Barnes would not last the month and one funeral was now followed by a second with more surely to follow.

.

There was no right he had to keep that inheritance and Father Thomas made a much needed stop to the Brock household first thing the next morning. Gravely stoic he was welcomed inside and offered a drink he downed and took hold of a refill handed to him that he set down to speak his piece. “I came to inquire news on Bunny Rogers.”

Gina asked, “We haven’t heard anything since the letter a few weeks back we shared with you. What is this about?”

“The soldiers yesterday came to tell me that Steve killed himself.” Their jaws dropped and he said bringing out the papers from his pocket, “And apparently left everything he had to me and the church. Her name is nowhere on this form anywhere, they had no clue he had a sister, they assumed I was related to him.”

Gina’s husband asked, “He killed himself?”

“There was a plane loaded with explosives he crashed it himself before it could get to home soil, so they say. There are no remains to return, same as the Barnes boy on some train accident.” He wet his lips and said, “But you know where Bunny is, or where she will return to, so I would like to hand ownership and care over her inheritance to your family or I will have to hand it all to the church. The other Priests agree with this decision. It would not be just to steal all of her things away as her brother so callously intended.” He paused after their prompt agreement of the plan and said, “I was wondering if you might join me in a prayer over his grave on Saturday.” At their confusion he clarified, “The government is paying for the plot and headstone, I have a suspicion Bunny would like something said. No matter their troubles for him to cherish and accept her love. There will be no service in the church, just a few words over the gravesite when the headstone is installed.”

Mama Brock let out a breath and said, “For Bunny, we will be there.”

“Thank you. All of this is rather unsettling. We may find comfort in that she is safe with Eddie.” Word still outside the family hadn’t been passed on that Bunny had been listed as captured, merely that the hospital had been attacked. No one else had heard about the rumored weapon and suit for Eddie. And so when the town over the Mass that night heard about the loss of that wandering child’s only living relative had taken himself out of this world even in service of others that hollow set of spoken words over that empty grave plot had a larger crowd to pay respect to the one he had left behind. Sentiments that carried over to the cathedral to pray for that lost child and anyone that had been lost or was still overseas in this terrible war.

 *.*.*

P.O.W. The letters stamped across the top image of the photographed redacted file Hydra had managed to slip an agent into the file room to capture images of the ridiculously blacked out hefty file that filled several rolls of film to print and send for the Winter Soldier’s files. Had he the originals there were tools to read those blacked out lines, but left to the photographs the little available had him puzzled just as the Hydra agents had been.

The only assumption being that he might have crossed paths with the Baroness and had seen a hint of what the weapon she made was and how to make another one or in the least another suit lie the one she had made her brother. Children of a Nurse and a Janitor from Alberta, Canada with little else to add to their history beyond that for any to guess where that knowledge had come from. Across the wall a new pair of maps sat with circled locations of her homes near Alberta and in Brooklyn, aside from that Columbia University and the location of the book publisher where the mentioned photography book the Baroness had been credited. Locations that would come in handy later on when he was free.

Mission after mission were detailed along with notice of the final order to head to Buckingham Palace as requested by King George himself. Medals were detailed along with notes on searches carried out upon the belongings brought onto the ship taking the group home that no weapon or suit were located. No mention of where they had been disposed of cold be located while in transport and was met with clearly irritated notes from those hoping to have brought them to be transformed to defense systems on home soil outside of the war.

The latest papers now had a round belly on the expert weapon builder that proved to him at least the frog hoax was staged and was a sure signal to him alone in all of the chaos it brought on. He had been asleep a good while and could tell they had searched his things for who knows what but didn’t seem to take anything when he rearranged things into their proper order. Again he had no clue where he had gone when he had woken up and yet the usual talk with his phantom friend and he was told what he had been forced to forget. Another stranger dead at his hands for the whims of those who ran this place. And all he could think of was where his Jack Rabbit might be hiding out until he got home. True now after this he doubted it could be the same, especially after all the time he had been and would be away.

But he always had an image of someplace green as far as the eye could see. Another minor memory on a trip that had been taken. Those same voices from that memory of fetching her to return to the party were on the beach into the trees barefoot he crept from the sand into the grass in search of her. She wasn’t on the beach and between a group of trees he found her crouched down inspecting the curious band of pheasant chicks with their mother and aunts. Always there was some other world she seemed to be off in and every time he found her it was something that puzzled him for the allure of it and yet that peaceful expression on her face seemed to stir something deep in his belly he didn’t understand.

Bits and pieces his life with her was coming back and on the surface outside of here there was a bond, it was just everything surrounding that he ached to know and recall before he could break free and find just where his Jack Rabbit was hiding. There was a clue as to where. He just had to use his time here to uncover just what that was. He had to remain focused on his goal and remain strong to keep focused so he was ready to defend her at any moment if he would eventually be found out when he did escape. At least then they would be together and things might not seem so hopeless when clues were few and far between, or just far too vague for him to catch onto right now for his fractured memory to grasp onto.

 *.*.*

Laid out on your side with a creeping grin in the shade over the back courtyard atop a pile of comforters with eyes fixed on Marigold you relaxed between her amusing game of easing back and forth on her hands and knees pressing kisses to your cheek to Leanora’s place behind your head with both hands in your hair. Amused beyond words with elated giggles in the springy nature of each curl that had Victor smile in his place across from you with Nova in hand helping her to bounce on her feet making her giggle to his try to help her stretch her legs making sure each of your girls were progressing to their next milestones. Belinda and Aurora were in your parents’ arms being aided to their own gleeful bounces and stretch of arms and hands while James and Eddie helped Erik to pack some things he wanted to take with him to Brooklyn.

Four signings like the last time were managed throughout Canada along with a sendoff party to the end of productions to Howard’s film in a series of brief flights and drives to gather more press to add to your collections. A brief blip of freedom was to be had for now for the whole of August until the September move back to the big city full of noise and people who were clamoring to get a glimpse of your girls.

Namely the Brocks, who already those in Canada had come by and snuck Eddie’s Pop over for a full weekend stay before he had to move on again to his hideaway. Never more eager to see just how beyond words your precious girls were. He absolutely loved you and deeply regretted having to miss your wedding so this was beyond acceptable to miss. His lovely adopted baby Brock. He didn’t have as much time with you as the others, but he didn’t need it to bond so deeply with you as Eddie had from afar without a word between you when he’d chosen to bring you into the clan. Teddy and Marigold barely had left his arms his whole stay and explained why he was nodding off against your curled up legs and she took her turn with you as well after having focused on each of her aunts and uncles as if to say sorry for being away so long.

Norma from inside came out smiling as she said, “Everything is planned for when we get back. I have another two auditions set for pictures the company wants me to try for. Get my image back on track, according to them. And I called Mama Brock, through her we have settled, Tuesday after we get back we have the Christening booked for your girls. Father Thomas is very excited to have it done and there will be a whole family luncheon after like with our girls and I know Teddy had.”

Her eyes lowered to yours between Marigold’s kisses and then shifted to her daughter who began to fluff your curls up with her hands. “Oh, Sunshine.”

You giggled saying, “Oh it’s fine. Kids always go for the hair.”

Herc out of the greenhouse flashed you a bit of mint and said with a smile, “Found some mint for that nursing cream you asked for.”

“Thank you. Don’t know why it’s just kicking in now, four months later.”

Herc smiled answering, “Perfectly normal. Were you decided on a time to wean the girls off milk?”

“Well we’ve usually picked around six months to start on solids. Dawn got to nearly nine months before she used salts for her milk with Goldie. Is there a good number I should aim for?”

“Whenever you feel comfortable, nine months fully off would be a perfectly comfortable number to aim for.” He answered with a creeping smile, “It is always up to comfort of the mother.”

You nodded and said, “That would be in December, would it be better after winter is over?”

“Should you decide on December then we will have the pears still to aid in their immune system strength should others in town begin to get sick.” You nodded and in the sweep of your eyes over him he said, “And I can still drop by as often as you welcome. When you were a child I did attend Mass to keep close, I could again for weekly checks or just to let you know there’s spare hands around if you need them?”

“Whatever you’d be comfortable with. I would think the clinic would want to get a few checks in. Ambrose was talking about us maybe going in together for baby check ups with her girl. At least to calm the Doctor and Sisters down. Certainly wouldn’t want you to feel you couldn’t come over for meals or visits when you feel up to company, even outside of being our Doctor.”

“I would never feel that, you make me feel very much family and I can imagine the city will be quite tiring to return to.”

You nodded after stealing your own kiss on Marigold’s cheek making her giggle, “I did think that it would be hard to go back.” After a moment you asked, “When does the, hearing heartbeats start for them?”

“Around puberty. Although mortals will be prone to staring.”

“I didn’t like that part, myself.”

Victor chuckled and Herc did as well, “None of us do. We are magnets for attention. And I know that the city will be a trial to find comfortable strides in again to return to studies and those social circles.”

While Norma lifted her daughter in her arms to settle down beside Victor with a smile at her daughter and yours then looked as you did to Elliot in his stroll into the courtyard with mail in hand with the twins behind him. “You have a letter from Alberta Community College.”

“Should be my transcript,” you answered accepting the paper to lay back welcoming Marigold to climb onto your chest as you opened the envelope and smiled reading over what it said to yourself.

 ‘History – 4

History

Humanities .Social Science. - 3

Economics

Area of Study for specialty degree

Art History

2 Art History class - 12

Religion - 6

Bio/Chemical/Physical Sciences

Anatomy and physiology – 6

Geography - 6

Humanities

Anthropology - 6

Political science - 6

Government - 6

Education

Communication - 6

Engineering

X - 12

 Free Electives –

2 Art History class – 6’

“Not bad, these just leave two credits for Mathematics, two for Science and Technology, nine free credits, and for my specialty degrees, six for Humanities, six for Health Sciences, 12 for Mathematics, and 32 for Science and Technology on my schedule. Not counting the Photography club and paper for my Art History degree.”

Elliot smiled saying, “I knew you would finish these degrees in style.”

Victor smiled, “We all knew you’d ace your classes.”

“Well it’s 120 credits by next summer break and 30-64 for Masters degrees and another 30 on top of that to get the final round. It’s a good deal of time away.”

“None of that now,” Jeff said.

Beau added, “Exactly, you have all of us.”

“I know. Just, with the whole Cold War, I can’t think of what might happen. Or how I could convince them to retire me from the Army.”

Victor smirked saying, “Murder is always the easiest way, when you can vanish, so I’m sure we could come up with something casual enough to not land jail time, but let them know you can’t be in uniform anymore.” He said making you smirk and simply turn your focus to Marigold until she tried to ease down to go play in the garden and chase some butterflies that had flown by leaving you to cuddle with Teddy until it was time to head in and start lunch and get in another round of feedings.

Pt 80

All –

@sherala007​, @mariannetora​​, @jesgisborne​, @knitastically​, @catthefearless​​, @theincaprincess​, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000​​, @alishlieb​​,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​​

Brother Dearest - 

@thorinanddwalinsdwarrowdam

​​, 

@swoopswishsward

#Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Father Thomas #WW2 Telegrams #Flashback #Bucky and his Phantom Friend #James Howlett x oc #Victor Creed x Norma Jeane #Eddie Brock x oc #Edie and Erik Lehnsherr

[holycatsandrabbits]

Tollense, an original serial romance by Dannye Chase, Chapter 1

A history professor falls in love with his best friend, a 3000-year-old vampire.

READ FROM THE BEGINNING: You are here!

NEXT

Chapter 1

1993

Professor Liam Beyer was born a decade after the deaths of the last soldiers to fight in the US Civil War. Thus, he was not expecting to meet a Union Army veteran in his 4 o’clock symposium on the Battle of Antietam.

Liam noticed the man as soon as he walked in, and not just because it was odd for a member of the public to show up for a faculty lecture at the university. No, the man caught Liam’s attention because he was distractingly handsome. Literally, Liam was distracted enough to drop his pen onto the overhead projector, causing a giant shadow to loom over the map of Maryland on the screen behind him, as if a third army had materialized there in a dense offensive line.

The man was of average height, with a slender build. He had dark hair in a short, modern cut and wore a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt with a faded label. He looked like he might be thirty, which was about the age Liam was, and so Liam did not immediately assume that the man had seen action in the Civil War. But there was something faintly strange about him, just in the way that he walked, light on his feet like a dancer, but stepping firmly, without a dancer’s well-practiced grace.

“General Lee,” Liam continued, in a slightly strangled voice, “of the Confederate Army, was, of course, outnumbered, but the battle was Union General McClellan’s to lose. Had he understood how superior his force was, had he taken more risks, he might have been able to deal a decisive blow to Lee’s army as it retreated. In fact, McClellan’s performance at Antietam was part of the reason that President Lincoln later removed him from duty.”

Liam put up a transparency of a white church with peeling paint, standing alone on a grassy rise. “On September 17, 1862, 7,650 soldiers died at Antietam, making it the bloodiest day for Americans in history. Two days later, a man named Alexander Gardner took some of the first widely-seen battlefield photographs of dead soldiers. Some were awaiting burial, and some were still lying where they fell. It was very difficult at the time to take photographs of battles themselves, as the technology involved careful treatment of glass negatives, and that was nearly impossible under battlefield conditions. But the dead do not move, and these photographs were so clear that when displayed in New York, family members recognized their fallen sons.”

Liam put up a transparency of one of Gardner’s photographs, young men lying on the ground in an oddly perfect line. The unknown man looked away.

oOo

Liam had grading to do after his symposium, but he walked to the campus union to grab a sandwich first. He was definitely not expecting Handsome Unknown Lecture Man to appear out of the crowd and drop into the seat opposite him. Liam was very proud that he did not choke on his bite of ham and swiss.

“I hope you don’t mind,” said the man. “I enjoyed your lecture. My name is Kurt.”

Liam put his hand out to shake. Kurt’s touch was faintly cold. “Liam,” he said.

Kurt cocked his head slightly to the side, as if assessing him. “I know. Liam Beyer, 27, assistant professor of history, specializing in battles. Is Antietam your favorite?”

“Um— one of them. I did my dissertation on it. On McClellan, specifically.” Liam felt slightly odd about the fact that this stranger knew who he was, but of course, it was all publicly accessible information. “Are you a Civil War buff?”

“Somewhat.” Kurt leaned back in his chair. “Antietam, god. I remember Bloody Lane— that’s what they called it after. The road was sunken in because so many wagons had gone by over the years. It was like trying to fight your way out of your own grave trench.” Kurt spoke with a faint accent that Liam could not place, something that seemed to shift from one place to another.

“You talk like you were there,” Liam said, smiling. “Are you a reenactor?”

Kurt gave a sharp laugh. “No. You?”

“I’ve been a technical advisor. It’s nice to meet other people who share my strange obsession.”

“Those pictures you showed,” Kurt said. “Photography is such a bewitching art. Those boys are long gone, but remain ever present in death.”

“You know, the war helped make Spiritualism popular,” Liam said. “It was so hard on the families back home to lose contact with their soldiers, not knowing what happened to them, or when, or where. They couldn’t bear it, and turned to mediums.”

Kurt smiled, and it made his bright green eyes sparkle with amusement. “Have you ever been to a seance?” he asked. Liam shook his head. “Most I’ve been to were quite boring,” Kurt said. “But every once in awhile—”

“That sounds like a good story.”

“I’ll tell you sometime.” Liam’s brain was already far too occupied with how attractive he found this poor man, and that was probably why the sentence sounded more like a salacious promise than it really was.

“So what do you do?” Liam asked faintly, crumpling his empty sandwich wrapper. “Are you a student?”

“Not at the moment. Just a fan of history. Of battles, actually.” Kurt leaned forward a little. “Liam, would you mind if I came to your office tomorrow to talk more? I have some questions and I think you might be the one to help me answer them.”

“I— of course.” Liam told himself that he agreed solely because he liked to talk about history with people, and that it didn’t matter whether or not said people were ridiculously attractive.

Kurt smiled at him again. “Until tomorrow then.”

On his way out of the dining hall, Liam was stopped by a student with a question about an assignment on Gettysburg. “I didn’t want to interrupt your dinner,” she said.

“Oh, it would have been fine,” Liam told her. “We were talking about the Civil War ourselves.”

The student gave him a confused look. “Dr. Beyer— weren’t you eating alone?”

oOo

In the end, Liam decided that as he’d never dreamed up a handsome man in quite so much detail before, that the student had been mistaken and simply had not noticed Kurt’s presence at Liam’s table.

And yet. There really was something very strange about the man. Liam couldn’t quite pin it down, just that there was a disconnect between what Liam was seeing and what he was feeling about him. For example, Kurt appeared to be thirty, but Liam would swear he was older. Kurt had looked perfectly natural at dinner, but it had also seemed like he didn’t quite fit in with his surroundings. Like if you’d taken a photograph of him at the table, he would have been slightly too bright, out of focus, or without a shadow.

Kurt’s knock on Liam’s office door finally came around eleven, and Liam was, he realized, far too happy to see him again. At first, nothing about the visit seemed terribly odd. They discussed Antietam again, then traveled forward to the Somme, and then much farther back, Megiddo and Kadesh. Kurt seemed to know less about those battles, Liam noted, but he was quite familiar with things taking place after Thermopylae in the 5th century BC.

It was easy to talk to Kurt, especially about interests they had in common, and as the conversation went on, Kurt seemed to relax a bit, which made Liam do the same. The day before, Liam had thought Kurt moved without grace, but that wasn’t exactly right. Kurt had a different kind of grace, a fluidity of small movements instead of large ones, an artistry shown in the fluttering of fingers while the rest of the man kept entirely still. The emphasis on such small motions seemed to draw Liam in, narrowing his focus away from his surroundings and onto his visitor. But at the same time, Kurt had such an air of other about him, that it was almost like Liam was looking at him through beveled glass, never quite getting the whole image at once.

However, Liam’s sense of ease around Kurt vanished entirely when another student knocked on Liam’s door with a question about an assignment. That in itself was perfectly normal, but during the whole time that the student was in Liam’s office, she didn’t speak to Kurt or apologize for interrupting their conversation. She didn’t give a single look to the chair that Kurt occupied beside Liam’s desk.

When the student had left, Liam leaned back in his chair, trying to fake the calmness that he no longer felt. “All right,” he said, watching his visitor carefully. “You want to tell me why I’m the only person who can see you?”

********

READ FROM THE BEGINNING: You are here!

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Updates Fridays on Ao3 and DannyeChase.com (rated E), and Tumblr (rated T)

Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

My previous serials are for Good Omens: Mr. Fell's Bookshop and Love's Endless Light

My Carrd

#Dannye writes #original fiction #serial fiction #tollense #vampires #romance

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

I like your writing so much !!

Can you please write something where Harry is sick and Draco takes care of him?

45. There's no me without you

Prompt- feeling their temperature | Thank you so much for requesting this, I tried to give my very best, however I'm pretty sure the ending didn't turn up that great.

| Harry is diagnosed with a terminal disease | ANGST | HURT COMFORT |

" you called for us ?" Draco asked as he sat down with harry in the chairs in front of the desk.

" how is my favourite couple doing ?" The healer asked with a gracious smile

" mind me, but it's sound's a bit- well- like there's some bad news " harry pointedly almost slightly worried.

The healer's head bowed, in disgrace of not being able to conceal " before I tell you this, please don't be mad. You know I'd do anything to help you as much as I can "

" you're scaring us Ms. Carnballer " draco's fingers automatically held Harry's hand in a tight grip unknowingly

She sighed, pushing the files towards the couple " after the accident of last week, you had required a full body scan and the results came in today "

" wh- what's does it say then ?" Draco's voice quivered, not even being able to read the words on the parchment

" it's my regret to inform you, harry suffers from a terminal disease, plaganeisis. It's somewhat very familiar to muggle..."

But harry was already falling. All the voices were fading and all his vision fading. He knew something was ought to go wrong sometime, but this soon, he didn't expect. His mind rapidly rushed to all the promises he would break, all the promises of spending his forever with draco, only his forever was now limited.

" Mr. Potter, are you listening ?"

" harry, honey " draco violently shook Harry's body on the chair which has gone into unconscious paralysis.

"huh?" Harry voiced

" I said, you're not so severe. But the disease is ought to spread. I- maybe you should take some time and relax yourself. Why don't I just talk to Mr. Malfoy right now ?" She asked sympathetically. Normally harry would've denied and requested to stay but his mind was spiralling into fading into consciousness to unconsciousness, so harry nodded and slowly left the room and waited outside with his thoughts.

Harry didn't talk to anyone properly for an entire week after that, even to his friends who stopped by his place to console him. It was as if the death seemed nearer than it already was. All he thought for days was about his numbered days and leaving draco so broken beyond his comprehension. If harry cared only Little about himself, he would sneak a peek at draco and stare at him looking out of the window, sadly until he'd turn to harry with a smile. It broke his heart to even think about draco after him. They'd only been together for 3 years, in which they had hurriedly married last year, but they had never regretted that decision until very this moment, harry wondered how would it be to let him go.

" I think you should break up with me and find yourself Someone who isn't dying " harry had said one day on the dinner table

Draco only looked at harry strangely, not responding or eating. Harry only remembered hearing draco's cries late in the night when he assumed harry was asleep. He wanted to make his pain stop, but how could he.

This was until harry met with the healer once again.

" harry, I need you to understand that your death would only be nearer if you're thinking it's near. Keeping yourself motivated right now would seem very hard right now but you have to understand that you're hurting other people around you with forcing them to leave you because you think it'd hurt less. I've told you this before and I'll tell you this again, you can prolong your life for as long as your body wants. If you're forcing yourself to surrender yourself to death, you'd be dead very soon but if you don't, you'd Maybe live another 10 years "

" it will hurt, I know. Leaving everything broken. But make the most of it right now,as much as you can. Draco needs you right now and so do you and you have to remember that " Ms. Carnballer softly smiled at harry from the opposite side. It was then when harry realised, he's not dead, not yet. He's still alive. He still is.

And that very night, harry entered the house with a cake, called over his close friends and spent his time, relished it, till he could. It was an improvement and his friends were very happy to see that but that didn't stop them from giving him a sympathies, pity hugs, hugs for longer than usual. For once harry didn't mind, even if it was somewhere Breaking him inside.

" what was all this ?" Draco furiously asked after everyone had left

" what ?"harry asked confused.

" what was the point of all this ? A reminder that you're dying soon ? " Draco's eyes glimmered with sad tears or anger, that was yet to be figured.

" draco-"

" no- you can't Just barge into the house with a damn cake and call over your friends and spend the night as if nothing has happened. Or tell me I should find someone new. do you even realise how horrid I felt when you told me to leave you and find someone who would never be anywhere equal to you and-" but then he broke down onto the chair behind him, heaving violently as he covered his mouth to not release the screams, the sound of pain.

Harry's heart broke to see Draco like that. In the process of turning on the switch, he forgot that if there was anyone in the world who would be most effected by Harry's death, it would be him. And harry had never understand, nor probably will understand how draco must be feeling.

Harry kneeled down in front of draco, his eyes swimming with tears leaking with water to pour. He took the hand that covered draco's lips and kissed them softly, leaving a droplet of tear over his fist.

" everything is not fine draco, it would probably not even be and we can't change that but now more than ever I need you and you need me. You more than me, this will probably be the last moments I spend with you and I don't want to spend that time fighting with you. I want us to fight together. You're right, I didn't realise how I was imposing on you to find Someone new without even thinking because I assumed it would be easier for both of us and now I clearly know it's not. I can't change what's about to happen love, but we can spend each and every moment making memories that will never leave you. I don't want to see you in pain, ever.. I love today and I will love you tomorrow and I will love you from my grave but we both need to understand that. Will you spend my numbered days with me ?" Harry's voice was soft as honey,as if he wanted to conceal both of them from the already bitterness of the situation but again that Infact what they should be doing.

Draco nodded sobbing, kissing harry for the first time in a while because harry allowed to.

" let's make it count, yeah ?" Draco sighed, theirs forehead against another

" yes " harry replied with closed eyes. Maybe it made it all better.

The next few months, harry's condition only became worse. He started losing weight like heavy bricks, his face sucking in, his fingers shaking even to pick up a cup, his eyes becoming home to sunken eyes with dark circles. Harry had lost that innocence on his face and metaphorically his eyes were losing their lively look and if even so they pretended everything was fine, they both sobbed when the other one wasn't around, draco crying more mostly because he felt helpless.

" you have to help me Ms. Carnballer, I can't- I don't want to lose him. I'd much rather die than lose harry. He's the only thing in my life that makes sense. Please- please I beg you " draco sobbed harshly, pleading, begging.

" it's my immense regret-"

" I don't need sympathies. I need to help harry. I don't want him to die. There must be something, anything we can do to save him. please, I'm literally begging " draco cried.

Ms. Carnballer leaned into her chair, sighing. It was painful to see draco like this, even for her even though she saw people like that everyday but none so desperate like him. Draco looked like he hadn't slept for days, he hadn't, he hadn't eaten properly. In taking care of harry, he had forgotten to take care of his own self. That wasn't his priority.

" I will tell you truth draco, the researches are in progress. There's no cure as for now but if I must say, there must be cure. Nature would never create that It can't find a cure to. I can't promise how Long it will take to find a cure, I hope soon but all I can give you right now is hope. I can prescribe stronger medicines but that's the most I can help "

And with that Draco's helplessly and angrily went home, finding harry out of the bed.

" harry, you're not supposed to get up" draco signed as he put his bags on table, roaming around to find harry. And he did find harry sitting by the window.

" how are you feeling ?" Draco asked as he went closer to harry

" do you want me to tell you the truth or the same lie I tell you each day " harry had been crying and draco knew this by his rough voice.

Draco sighed " let's get you back into the bed. I'll make the dinner-"

" no. Draco. I'm tired. I'm tired of seeing you tiredly coming home each day, making dinner for me, telling me everything will be fine one day when you and I both know it won't be. Stop wasting your time on me. I'm meant to die and I will die " harry told Draco nonchalantly

" wh- I thought we had this conversation and we were done with this Absurdity " draco furiously threw his hands in the air.

Harry turned to Draco, stepping down from the window, standing still.

" you are wasting your life draco. I can't see that. In taking care of me look what have you done to your own self. When was even the last time you shaved or ate a proper dinner or went out with friends or just watched a movie and fell asleep on the couch without a care in the world. You think I don't watch you. I watch you like a hawk draco and I can't let you do this to yourself. This is brutal, harsh, painful to even watch " harry threw

" painful?" Draco scoffed " what do you know about pain harry. You tell me you don't want to hurt me, that you can't see me in pain but everyday you reach new heights of hurting me. It's hurts me everyday to watch you lose yourself little by little. It's brutal and harsh that after everything you will leave me alone to spend the rest of my life alone. I miss being myself but now all I think of is how can i take your pain away. It physically hurts me that I can't do anything to save you. It's cruel and brutal of the world to take you away from me when you're the Only thing that makes me want to live another day and when you're gone, how would I even possibly survive. I cry nights away because I can't stop your pain. After everything you've been through in your life, this isn't what you deserve and it's hurts me to every single core of my soul, my body and my heart. I'd much rather prefer death right now " draco yelled crying.

" If I am such a burden draco, please for the love of Merlin leav-" but harry had started coughing harshly. His body doubled over and in instincts, draco helped him to the couch and fetched water, calming his throat immediately.

Draco started crying rapidly, it was as if large crystal balls were dripping down his eyes and they didn't cease at all " I don't want to fight you. I don't- but I'm so hurt. I'm in pian harry, Maybe less than you but it's just- I can't lose you" draco took Harry's hands in how own, drawing circles over his hand.

" I know draco, I know. I wanted to-"

" no harry. It should be me consoling you yet everytime its you consoling me. There is so much wrong with this, but I don't want to console you because I can't stand losing you. I won't survive a day without you harry. I can't. I don't want to " draco sobbed. Harry gave Draco a sad smile, engulfing draco into a hug and kissing the top of his head.

" well I am Always the better one so " and draco finally chuckled, for the first time in months.

It occurred him that night when harry had fallen asleep, after checking his temperature for any signs that if nobody is going to help save harry, draco will do it himself.

And that very night he apparated to Hermione's place.

" I need help "

" about time " Hermione smirked as she led him into her study and they discussed all night about Harry's condition, anatomically the part of his body affected the worst and how can the spread possibly be stopped. Until Draco disapparated for the first time relieved before harry woke up.

It was another 1 month of brainstorming when one night, Hermione found it.

" it's the bone marrow "

" what ?" Draco confusedly asked

" the spread is only through his blood, right ? And bone marrow is the major manufacturer of helper stem cells in the body that would bring up his immunity. It's not the problem with the cells draco, its the bone marrow. Because harry is sickening, the strength of the production of-"

" the helper cells is reducing and if we just know how to fix that then the leukocytes and his platelets count would increase, thereby his body can fight itself "

" yes "

They both remained silent for a long time, until Hermione finally called Madame pomfrey from ages ago knowing she was the Only one who still performed old school magic for treatment of some very vital disease.

" Hermione, remember in second year when harry broke his arm ?" Draco asked suddenly

" what ? Of course "

" remember gilderoy instead of fixing Harry's arm, basically vanished his bone ?"

" of course. If we could reintroduce finer bone marrow-"

" without the aftermath of graft, harry would become healthy because his body will not reject it "

" call ms. Carnballer immediately "

And Ms. Carnballer agreed .

" of course, it was the muggle theory we failed to apply " ms. Carnballer said In a bit suspicious voice

" but ?" Both of them asked

" it seems too easy. I mean no wonder it might be the solution to it but if just seems so simple. If it were that simple, why couldn't wizards had thought of it before? It just seems as if this will have some drawback "

And then it hit them, it was a little too easy. After discussing, draco headed home with Ms. Carnballer telling him to wait for until she was sure of it.

Only time ran out. Draco was half an hour late than usual today and harry hadn't even woken up, even though he would've normally woken up..

Draco kneeled down next to harry, trying to wake him but harry gave no response. He was still breathing but his heartbeat was falling down little by little. In between panic attack, draco immediately dialled up Ron and Hermione.

" we need to immediately go to st. Mungo's"

And they didn't need more notice. They immediate disapparated to their place with Ron warming up the car and Hermione helping carry harry to the car.

" it will be fine. Everything will be fine " Hermione reassured him but draco had lost every shred of his sanity and was dripping all wet with tears.

" I can't lose him Hermione " draco cried as he held harry closely to himself with Ron almost flying the car

" you won't draco. He's a fighter " Ron assured.

Nodding, draco held harry more firmly to himself, whispering " I love you " and " please don't leave me " In Harry's ear. Ron and Hermione only shared looks.

______________________________

" would you at least try ? " Draco begged Ms. Carnballer

" I-"

" please. It have. 88% chances of Saving harry. Please Ms. Carnballer " Hermione countered.

Ms. Carnballer sighed " the hospital won't be responsible for anything that could go wrong, you must know that "

Draco froze. Anything that could go wrong. Those word's screamed in his head but then there was the faint memory running alongside in his head " it's us against the world. We will try till the end "

" do it " draco confirmed. Hermione looked at him for any hesitation. Met with none, she agreed.

He will not lose harry. He will not.. he can't ?

2 hours in the ward, Ms.carnballer finally came out..

" so ?" Draco asked worried out of his mind

" I- regret- harry is suffering from amnesia as of now " she told sighing heavily

" what do you mean amnesia ? It can't be possible" draco wanted to pound on her but ron held him back.

" it's anterograde. He knows everyone, mostly , but some memories might be lost " she weakly replied

Draco almost fell into Ron's grasp, his tears forming instantly

" can I meet him?"

" you can but don't try to pressurise him or anything. I request you "

Draco heavily nodded, biting off his lip in order to release the horrendous scream boiling inside him.

They all followed into the ward was in. Harry was staring out of the window when Draco approached him a little closer.

" harry ?" Draco asked softly, controlling his tears.

" malfoy ?" Harry turned his head with a frown to draco. It was all it took for draco to understand, he didn't remember them..but he wanted to try.

" you don't remember us?" He asked

" what do you mean ?" Harry asked.

Draco immediately turned around to ron and Hermione, who consoled him.

" he doesn't remember us" draco weeped.

" oh goodness I didn't expect you'd cry like a baby " harry chuckled

Frowning In tears draco turned around " what ?" He sniffed

" I could forget you, like you'd let me " harry raises an eyebrow at Draco comically

" what do you mean? She just told me you got amnesia- I don't believe you "

" alright. I got married to you last year on 31st October, at Malfoy manor. Ring a bell " harry quipped

" but she just- you told her to lie? Didn't you ?" Draco narrowed his eyes at harry

" of course. It was fun " harry laughed softly

" you fucking arsehole. You almost gave me heart attack " draco sneered

" but it didn't happen, so we're all good " harry shrugged

" tell me I can break his face " draco looked at Ron

" I'd agree with you unless he looked like this and unless I knew about this " Ron shrugged

" Ron!!! I wanted to say that " Hermione hit him on the shoulder

" you were in on this ?" Draco looked back and forth between both.

" you'd think otherwise. Of course we were in on it. Harry I'd give you a 2.5 for acting. That was shit " Ron raised an eyebrow at harry

" you tell me that when your wife cries like a damn baby " harry rolled his eyes

" I don't understand?" Draco's face filled with confusion after confusion.

Ron and Hermione shared a look before Hermione spoke up " let harry explain, we'll wait outside until your little war would be over "

And they walked out.

" come and sit " harry patted next to him, making some space for him.

In all anger draco narrowed his eyes at harry but at the same time he couldn't be more glad to be with this harry again "you better have a nice explanation " and sat down next to harry on the bed.

" so this happened last week. I woke up in the middle of night and I wanted to look for you but I couldn't find you, I assumed you must've gotten busy with something but when the next night same thing happened, I talked with Ron and Hermione about that. I was really worried for you and I just wanted to know if you were okay. I initially went to them to talk to them about taking care of you, looking after you mostly when I'm gone and told them the whole disappearance thing. It was then Hermione told me that you were trying to look for a cure. I can't tell you how proud I was and am of you. I really am. But you were doing it secretly and I wanted to maintain that until last night, Hermione, rang me and told me that you've got it. And you fell asleep outside for a while, great thing to do while you're husband is in a ward fighting death. They came in and asked for my approval on whatever it was that you guys came up with, of course it would have some drawbacks as Ms. Carnballer said but I wanted to go through with it just as much as you-"

" you did ?"

Harry frowned, taking draco's hands in his own " draco, it's not my choice to die. But if i were given one, I'd never want to die and leave you. There no you without me, nor me without you. Of course the amnesia idea was Mine to scare you. Hermione called it dumb "

" it was dumb " Draco chuckled softly

" look at me draco " and he did

" I've never regretted anything in my life than these last few months because of the pain you've suffered because of me. Even if I were to die Draco, I- I don't know what Would've happened. I'm really sorry for everything-"

" hey, you don't have to apologise. Remember I promised to take you in sicknesses and in health. It doesn't matter harry whatever happens, I'd always take care of you. I just can't lose you. These last few months had been terrible and I never want to go through something like that ever again " draco smiled shyly as he kissed Harry's hands in his own.

" and he won't" a voice interjected behind them..

" ms. Carnballer ?" Draco turned slightly to get a good look of her

" you've fought valiantly harry. The cure that your husband and miss Granger came up with had Little to no side effects, which probably won't show up until very late in life "

" what sort of side effects ?" Draco asked

" you don't have to worry about the disease falling back in again. Side effects however may include slight pain for over a couple of months in the bones and probably anemia, tiredness. You'll have a bit of fitness problem at some point in your life harry. You will have to look out for any illness for the next two years very carefully though. And that's about it "

Harry and Draco looked at each other in relief..

" we did it then ?" Draco smiled

" you did it " harry diligently said

" you've officially fought death, hm, let me see my record, 6 times. That should go in the Guinness world book record " Ron joked as they walked in after that

And the room again filled with laughter.

In the end some fights are worth fighting for.

It is my immense regret for being so incredibly late at delivering the request this late for the inability to probably provide what you expected. Also regretful for not being able to do a stand alone prompt. (Also plaganeisis is no disease). Happy reading. I tried my best.

Requests open

Day 44- how to get away with murder| Day 46- old habits

#drarry #harry potter #drarry incorrect quotes #draco x harry #harry james potter #hp fandom #drarry prompt #harry potter fanfiction #draco is gay #draco malfoy #drarry ao3 #drarry drabbles #drarry ask #drarry angst #drarry au #drarry fic rec #drarry ficlet #drarry fic #drarry fluff #drarry fandom #drarry stuff #drarry domestic #drarry ship #drarry is canon #harry potter fic #draco malfoy fic

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Kit + 🔮

Here's a bit from the upcoming Chapter 7 of American Beasts:

The gang was all there, tucked into the old wooden chairs and tables of the Eight Bit Pizza Bar. The ramshackle restaurant hadn’t seen this much life in weeks. Boarded up before the reaping even began, the owners had run after John had offered them the least amount of money possible for their little parcel of real estate. In the end they may have taken the smarter route rather than risking the chance of being scooped up into the cult along with it. Now, It had become the unofficial meeting place for the resistance, or at least the ones Kit kept in contact with, surprisingly that also included Hurk and Sharky. She hated to admit it but even they had their place, despite not always being useful. 

Kit looked around the table at her allies, elbows resting on the hard surface barely able to hold herself up. Eyes sunken into dark bags, deeper than her duffel. There had been no luck with the pharmacy, it was bled dry by the Peggies, she knew it was a long shot when Jerome had mentioned it but the hope was nice to cling to no matter how unrealistic. She hadn’t gone this long without her medication in years, not since she’d been diagnosed. Her daily ritual now consisted of scoring another line into her bedside table with her knife for the nights she’d gone without sleep. It was physically impossible to go for much longer and she could feel the walls crumbling around her. She needed just one day of rest, one day where the whole county didn’t depend on her. One day where the exhaustion would finally win out and the nightmares wouldn’t come, just blackness like the grave. 

She looked around at the team she’d built, most staring back at her with some form of pity written all over their faces, that slack jawed pout that people have when they felt sorry for a person. She wanted to scream, rant and rave, to get them to stop. It was the same face her mother gave her when she came back home and it made her furious. She didn’t deserve to be made to feel this way, to feel so weak. Her eyes fell back to the table, she didn’t need their sympathy, she didn’t want it. But there were two things she needed checked off her to-do list and sadly she was capable of neither. 

“Here’s the deal, I’m getting real sick and tired of well, being sick and tired. We’ve done a lot to strike back at the Peggies but they still have something we don’t.”

“What’s that?” Grace said, sitting back in her seat, adjusting the brim of her hat. 

“Advertising.”

“You mean those stupid fucking commercials John likes to put out?” Nick said, crossing his arms over his chest, leaned back in his seat with a disgruntled sneer. 

“No.” She paused, realizing those too caused her enough headaches. “Well yes, but mostly I mean the sign and the statue.”

“You want to tear ‘em down?” Adelaide slid forward in her seat, suddenly very interested in the conversation. 

“I wanna light them the fuck up.” Lifting her eyes, she focused on Hurk and Sharky across the table. Without skipping a beat, they bro-fisted each other, knowing full well they had a place in this plan. “I‘ve got enough other tasks keeping me busy. So that’s where you’ll all come in.” 

Nick, Grace and Adelaide were all aware of what she was trying to get at. The other two, not so much. 

“What do you mean, legs? Those are the kinda once in a lifetime missions you wanna take on. Who gives a fuck about a tunnel or an old landing strip?”

Nick cleared his throat, trying to interrupt Hurk’s train of thought, doing anything to get him to stop talking about the subject. Hurk looked at the pilot and stopped himself to apologize. “No offense.” Clearly the clue was too much for him to understand. “I just don’t get why you wouldn’t want to come?”

“I’m sorry my boy is such a goddamn idiot, Kit.” Adelaide slapped Hurk up the backside of his head. “She’s a fucking war vet, why do you think she cussed you out when you blew up that mill?”

Sharky’s eyes grew wide, his mouth falling agape. It had taken him this long but logic finally prevailed. “Wait, you don’t like explosions? Well goddamn Dep, why didn’t you say anything? Does it give you flashbacks or some shit?”

Kit sighed heavily, rubbing at her temple. “I’d rather not talk about it.” She cut the conversation short and returned to her actual point. “Adelaide, I want you to fly these two up to John’s sign. Burn it to the fucking ground, but just before you do I want to know about it. I want to make sure John’s eyes are peeled.”

#ask answered #thanks for asking!!! #american beasts

[cassava-49]

Death 2

Part 1/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/Part 6/ Part 7

"Seriously? You did that to him?" Marinette asked trying to control her laughter. "Adrien's very easy to fool. He lets his guard down every time he feels like he could trust the person," Felix answered as he grinned at the girl in front of him.

It has been five days since Marinette got into a coma. The doctors said that she'll recover and would be able to wake up in soon. However, Felix's condition was slowly deteriorating. There were times when his heart would stop beating for a second or two. This caused a massive pain to those who knew and love him. Given that he's already a month in.

Although, the two ghosts seem to not mind it at all. Given that they're both just chilling at the roof. For the past three days, the two of them had been entertaining each other with their life stories, given that they know both of them were not going to live anyway.

"Hey, I saw your classmates trying to visit you again," Felix said as he stands up and goes to the ledge. "Who stopped them this time?" Marinette asked as she continues to finish the flower crown. "Security," he replied casually as he watched his mother entering his room to visit him again. "Your parents talked with the head and asked to have your classmates stopped if they're just here to visit you," he added as he faintly feels his mother's hand in his. Distracted by his mother, Felix didn't notice that Marinette had placed a flower crown on his head. "There, now you look a lot less like a creepy ghost," Marinette smiled as she looked at him with the flowers on his head. He smiled at her and adjusts her flower crown. This made him slightly jealous of his cousin for scoring a sweet, innocent girl in his life.

"Getting cozy up there you two?" a voice called from the other side. "Claude, what kept you guys?" Marinette asked as she approached the new comers, leaving Felix behind. Claude, a supposedly 17-year-old boy, who had been in a comatose state for a year already because of a car accident right after an akuma attack. "Hey, why does Felix get a flower crown?" Claude pouted. Marinette giggled and went to her pile of floor crowns. Giving each one of them a crown.

"Oh darling, it's beautiful," Allegra gawked with pride as she lined the outline of each one of the petals. Allegra is a 15-year-old who just got in a coma yesterday because of diabetes. Practically she's the one who's most likely to go first, given that was close to death's door when she arrived. "How are you feeling Allegra?" Felix inquired trying to see if she's recovering smoothly. "I feel better. I'm starting to feel the nurses whenever they touch me," she replied to him with a smile.

"Does it look good on me?" Kenya asked as she adjusted it on her brown locks. "Yup, you're totally rocking them," Allan replied with a wink. Kenya is an eight-year-old who got into an accident a week ago. Allan, on the other hand, is a soul who is trapped inside the hospital. He had been there for two years now, and he could have been 17 by now if it weren't for a rogue bullet.

"Marinette, do you like how I did my flower crown?" Lindalee asked as she showcased her new flower crown which was now in her two hair ties that held her blonde hair. Lindalee is also an eight-year-old who fell off the staircase about a month ago. "It's beautiful Lindalee. I love it," Marinette praised as she stared at it with pleasure. "You're looking great in that crown," Allan teased Felix. "For your information, I look majestic. It is, after all, made by our future fashion designer Marinette," he replied, which causes everyone to laugh.

"I really hope that you'll wake up soon, Marinette," Kenya exclaimed. "I hope that all of you would wake up," Marinette replied as she crouched down to meet the girl's eyes. "And don't forget to go to my grave when you guys all make it out," Allan reminded to them all, who nod in agreement.

"Hey guys, another one is in the emergency room," Claude called as he looked at the nurses who were rushing a young boy who seemed to have broken his leg. "Ooh, this one's interesting," Lindalee exclaimed as she examines the damage. "Is he going to be okay?" Kenya wondered in worry. "Don't worry honey, he'll be alright. It seems to be fracture, nothing as serious as death," Allegra said as she takes the little girl's hand. "It's funny how our only entertainment here is the emergency room," Felix commentt as he stood beside Marinette, who giggled in agreement. "Well, it's not like we could get out of the hospital, can we now?" Marinette replied with a smirk.

"Why can't we leave?" Allegra complained, still wondering the reason for it. "You guys are bounded to your bodies, so leaving it may become a welcoming invitation for the lost souls like me," Allan explains. "Why don't you leave?" she asked. "Why should I? My friends are all here," Allan replied with a smile. "My family moved away so I knew that I should just let them move on. From what I heard my sister's wedding was a blast and her husband is a nice, rich guy, who was her classmate in high school, and my little brother will be taking medicine for college and has a lot of achievements so far. So basically I'm not needed there, too much. They still come here on my death day so that's enough for me," he answered.

"That's so sweet of you," Lindalee cooed as she hugged him. "I'm definitely visiting your grave, first thing I'll do once I'm out," she adds. "Guys, the old man in room 404 is dying. I can see Grim waving at me," Felix said and pointed as room. "Let's go. I want to talk with Grim," Allan said as he begins to jump from the roof to the room. "Alright! Let's go!" Claude responded as he took Allegra's hand, who was still unaware of the perks of being separated from your body. They took a running start and jumped as well, aiming for the room. "Let's go Kenya!" Lindalee said as she took the girl's hand. "Yeah!" the two girls exclaim as they jumped. Marinette laughed at their reactions, since it became a game for them to jump into the room of the person who's about to die and surprise them.

"Come on Marinette, maybe today's the day," Felix said after chuckling as he sticks out his hand for her to take. She smiled and laughed as she takes it. "Let's go!" she exclaimed as the two began running towards the edge jumping through the window and landing in front of the group.

"About time, I thought that the two of you would be staying up there and make out," Grim said as he rolled his sunken eyes at the two. "What gave you an idea that we'd be doing that?" Marinette asked oblivious to the fact that they were still holding hands. The reaper, with his bony phalanges, casually pointed at their hands leaving the two teens flustered at their cluelessness. He chuckled at the two as he looked back at the old man, who was having a heart attack.

The Grim Reaper is as old as time. He wore a vanta black cloak that's tattered at the hem. His whole body is but of bones, a symbol of man's future after death. He carries a scythe to help end a person's suffering when it's too much, however he cannot use it unless the Fates allow him. But, it can also be used to transport the person's soul into the other side. Some may say that he's merciless, cruel, unforgiving and a thief. However, if they get to know him more, he's actually very nice and entertaining. He enjoys the company of ghosts, however is very sad for not being able to transport them to the other side.

"Grim, how's the number of deaths doing?" Claude inquired to pass the time. "It's the same. One person per second, we're just getting stretched too thin. Welp, better than the black plague is what I'd say," he replied. "What about the 1909 Provence quake?" Lindalee asks. "Wow, even for a kid you're really well informed with this," Grim commentt. "But yeah we had to pull out a lot of us just to accommodate all those souls before dinner or some of them decide to go haunting. And believe me the paperwork on it is not fun," he complained. "Grim Reapers have paper work?" Felix queried. "Nah, I think the right question is, Grim Reapers eat?" Claude asked. "Yeah, I guess. More or less, we kind of do," Grim replied as he gestured.

"Hey, look," Kenya pointed as the man's soul was slowly slipping away, as the heart monitor went crazy. The doctors and nurses kept on trying to revive him, but to no avail his soul finally separated. His old wife's tears continue to fall as she reached out to him. The doctor and the nurses give their sullen condolences to the woman.

For the old man, he slowly caught up on what was happening. He tried to go to his wife to comfort her, only to have his body phase through. He then turned around to find the group looking at him.

"W-who are you?" he asked pointing at Grim. This made him smirk and strike a sinister pose. "Who do you think?" he asked in a terrifyingly low voice. This made his eyes widen in horror as he made his way to the children and slowly push Grim away from them. "Stay away from them. You can't just take away children's souls!" he shouted, horrified at the thought of the young children dying. "Why not?" Grim snorted and taunted in a threatening tone. This causesy chills to go down the old man's spine as he tried to protect them. "Don't worry kids, I'm not letting this monster take any of us," he declared.

However, he turns to them when he heard a laugh coming from behind. He scowled at Allan and said, "This is not funny boy, can't you see he's going to drag us all to hell!" This caused the rest of them to look at each other and start laughing as well, confusing the man. "Well, now I know why you guys enjoy doing this," Allegra exclaimed in between laughs. "By the way Grim, I think you made that scary pose a bit too horrifying. I thought I was going to die as well," Allan added. "Who-who, what are you kids?" the old man asks with a shaky voice.

"It's alright sir, we're not demons, and Grim is just here to help you cross over," Marinette calmly told the old man. "You don't have to afraid. He's here to help," Felix reassured. The old man's features slowly relax as he looked at them all. "So, what are you?" he asked in concern, mostly looking at the two kids with worry. "Just souls of comatose victims," Claude replied casually. "Except for Allan, he's dead," he added. "Speaking of which, so do I get to crossover today?" Allan asked with hope. Grim looked him with a pitying look and shook his head no. This made the young soul frown in disappointment as his friends have him a hug for comfort.

Grim looked at them with a desolate look as he takes the old man's hand with reassurance. "Don't worry, I talked with the Fates and they said your time is near, so no need to worry about it," he says to Allan. "Easy for you to say, your dead. Time of different in your realm," Allan replied. Grim gives him a smile as he says, "Lighten up kid, at least you get to enjoy your friends company more."

He turned to the old man and offered his hand saying, "Grab on, the Fates have been expecting you, as well as your son." The man's eyes widen as tears began to fall at the mention of his deceased son. He hesitantly lookef at the hand, not trusting Grim one bit. However, he turned to his right to find Kenya holding his hand with a smile on her face. "There's no need to fear anything sir. He'll guide in your journey to the afterlife as your angel guided you in your life. Your son is waiting on the other side for you, I'm such he'd want to see you," Kenya guaranteed.

The old man's features slowly relaxed as he turned to Grim and slowly made his way to him and took his hand. "Come along sir, we're taking you home," Grim said as he placed his scythe back on the ground, which in turn encased them into a sphere of water, from the river Lethe, to help them easily crossover, forgetting of all the hurt and pain. It was always enchanting to watch souls crossover from life to the demimonde. After the event, Marinette turned her attention back to her despaired friend. She scrunched her eyebrows and looked around.

"Where's Allan?" she asked, concerned for her friend's wellbeing. This caught their attention as they began noticing his absence. "Wasn't he with you?" Lindalee pointed at Claude. "He was. He was right next to me," he replied a boy confused as well. "Let's split up and find him," Kenya suggested. They nodded at each other as they separately began their search.

"Why are we supposed to look for him?" Allegra asked. "He's a lost soul left to wander the earth and had been denied entrance to the afterlife, it's usually heartbreaking, mostly on his part," Felix replied, clearing the air. "Lost souls are more powerful than you think. They have the ability to disrupt the living world. Unlike us who just go through things, they can haunt anything and anyone. On bad days, they're the worst to deal with, and Allan hates being denied entrance to the afterlife after the 100th time," Claude answered with a hint of fear. "How many times had he been denied, including now? curiously queried. "157," Felix responded with a sigh.

With that in mind they all went forth, searching every corner of the hospital. Though they hope that he's still in the hospital.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous lb #miraculous au #marinette dupain cheng #felix graham de vanily #felinette #quantic kids #claude #allegra #allan #rip adrien #fluff #death #afterlife #grim reaper #marinette x felix #fanfic #my fic #part 2