#slash or not i think they both should be able to find relief in one another's shared experiences! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cattonicdragon · 1 year

Note

Hey I was hoping you could do kintoru,Susie Campbell, mommy long legs,fenghuang and daki with a living voodoo doll reader that can transfer an pain the feel and is extremely hard to kill.Please :)

Kintoru/sama,susie campbell/malice,mommy long legs and daki with a living voodoo doll G/N reader

I literally simp for like half these character r u stalking me or smth💀/j

Unfortunately I havnt watched legends of awesomeness so I dont know how to write fenghuang but I'm going go to watch it when I can if it's on Netflix,I'll update this post once I've done or think I can get her character down :)

Anyways of course!

Not proof read,this took so long my tumblr is lagging and my thumb is aching 💀👍

Kintoru/sama

She is initially shocked apon finding you

A living voodoo doll that is able to transfer someones pain,it sounds like a story you tell kids to scare them honestly.

Not only that but you are insanely hard to kill,every time she has her claws on you,you suddenly evade her and run away.

She finds the situation both amusing and annoying.

She eventually gets to the point where she realises you just wont die

So instead she corners you and questions you

Apon finding out that your not entirely sure how you are what you are she feels almost a sense of familiarity,given the fact that she was created by an eldritch God.

Now you may be wondering,how did kintoru find out you can transfer pain?,you transferred your pain to her when she sliced you.boom.

For some reason,you get stuck in her realm,she literally cant get rid of,she tries multiple times before just accepting your there.

She eventually grows to enjoy your presence and you enjoy hers eventually to.

She loves to just pick you up and hold you close to her.

She refuses to admit that shes cuddling you

So she says holding you

She feels relief knowing that you wont die of old age in all honesty

Kintoru will never admit it but she loves you unconditionally

Should yasu EVER try to take you away she will have zero chill, legit hes standing one second dead the next,she will not loose you.

Unless shes sure you can,she probally wont involve you with the whole cursing an entire family tree thing

She let's you put on her hat if you want to,mainly cause she gets to see the large hat on your head and she finds it amusing.

Susie campbell/malice

She to is shocked at learning about you.

Shed definatly try to pursue you after finding out about your capabilities.

It's rare for someone to not be ink-ified so seeing you only dirty and inky is a shocker,her initial thought was that it was the ink that had turned you into the doll.

The first time she learns about your ability is when she saw you get attacked by one of the ink creatures,one slashes you on the stomach before you quickly transferred the injury back to the culprit and fled.

She definatly took notes.

I can see her attempting to appeal good and maybe even flirting to gain your trust

It isnt until you both unexpectedly get put into a fight with eachother that she learns about how much of a pain you are to kill.

After that encounter she thinks more leisurely now,she dosnt like the fact that you can last longer than practically any of the ink creatures down there -bendy/the ink demon

This somehow transcends into your relationship becoming frenemys

Whenever you cross pass it's a short fight with snarky remarks and offhanded insults being thrown back and forth until one just walks away

You both eventually just sit down with eachother and talk,how does this happen? Idk it just does

She talks about her former life before she became and ink creature whilst sadly looking at herself.

Once the questions are diverted to her and she questions your existence,you reply you just simply dont know

She would question more but she dosnt even know how shes living as an ink creature so she cant talk.

After this I can see her warming up to you and letting you around her area of the studio.

Surprisly she likes pda

She would be ecstatic if you would want to help her become beautiful and gets abit upset if you dont but otherwise understands.

She let's you touch her horns and halo,shes very over protective over you

She keeps you away from the ink demon at any and all costs

She wont let him take you away from her.

If you cant defend yourself she will teach you.

Drawing sessions if you like drawing

Mommy long legs

Due to the fact that she is in a factory that literally makes dolls and toys live she wouldnt find it a huge shocker

She seriously dislikes the fact that you can transfer pain,it makes it harder to hunt you down.

Now how did MLL find out about your pain exchange?

Mommy had caught you in a dead ended hallway and was squeezing the life out of you with her elastic plasticky arms,that's when she felt searing pain around her body,it felt like the plastic was squeezing itself and restricting her,

She ended up dropping you as you immediately bolted away from her

She had never taken a chase more seriously

This is also where she learns that your a pain to kill.

You kept ducking in and under pipes and wires as mommy got stuck and tangled,

Not only that but you wernt afraid to take risks as you could pass the pain onto mommy.

This chase probally went on for days before she finally stopped

She would not let go of the fact that you escaped her though,oh.no she wouldnt

She would continuously try and kill you,eachtime another dent,scratch or skudmark appeared on her pink body

It got to the point she literally just broke down,ripping pipes off the wall until you stood against a wall looking at her with bored eyes

She asked what in the world you were and how you could even keep up.

After getting her unsavory answer she ended up just dragging herself further into the factory to calm down,

However you didnt want to leave her alone,and followed her.

Your relationship takes quite abit to bloom since mommy is always shooing you off or holding a rabid wuggy by their cut string above you

After awhile mommy just accepts the fact your staying.

Your relationship once she accepts you not going anywhere improves and you eventually manage to get along

Best cuddles

I'm pretty sure that mommy is one of the more feared toys in the factory so you dont have much to worry about

Mommy scares the other toys into playing nice with you.

I headcanon that boxy is mommy's favorite,because I can,so you get amazing cuddle from an elastic toy and a fluffy box

Sweet with you and murderous with others,couple goals

Once player enters the factory I dnt think mommy would care,shed take poppy have abit of fun.

But,if the player shows succession shed kill him instantly

She finally has someone who loves her and shes not gonna let some old employee ruin it

As for poppy it's just more company for you.

The minute poppy starts to try get you to leave though.

You may find a partially toy absent

Daki

Shes really shocked,alot of things can happen when you change into a demon,but your not a demon?

She emidatly tries to get rid of you

She dosnt want someone one upping her place as upper6

She finds out pretty quickly that you can transfer pain and that your not easily kill-able

It's not until she feels as if her obis have slashed her torso that she kneels over slightly,she checks and her eyes widen as she sees deep cuts in the same positions that she had aimed on your body,mirrored onto her.

After seeing that you no longer had any cuts she came to the conclusion that you could transfer pain,once coming across this discovery she fled

She didnt want to be seen as weak but she didnt want to be killed of by someone who isnt even a demon slayer

She starts to think that your actually a hashira until she feels your aura again,your not your literally not even a demon slayer

She wonders how on earth your alive

She has so many unanswered questions

This list only piles up the more she thinks about it

She eventually traps you in her obi,asking questions and demanding answers

She gets extremely confused and rather angry when you tell her you have no idea how the fuck your even alive

She decides to make a deal with you,she brings you back to the red light district as her "apprentice" and you live,if you decline you die.

Although you know she probally wouldnt be able to kill you,you humor her and decide to go.

This is how you both start to bond

Snarky remarks are often when the two of you are in the same room

Her obi is actually really soft and nice to cuddle with,when your not trapped or being sliced with it

She let's you trace the patterns on it if you wish to.

If you want to do so with the cracks and flowers aswell she'll let you

She loves to do makeup on you or dress up etc

She actually likes giving you personalized gifts aswell as recovering them.

She very affectionate in private,in public shes alright with affection but not as much as in private

Due to the fact you keep daki busy muzan gives you his cursed blessing,he has made it very clear that no harm is to come to you whilst you are in a relationship with her.

Gyuutaro comes in the package with daki

Gyuutaro is rather easy to handle,tell him something positive about his appearance,give him a personalized gift or a slice of affection and that's all he needs

#cattonic writes #kintoru #sama #the mimic roblox #kintoru x reader #sama x reader #the mimic x reader #susie campbell #susie campbell x reader #alice angel #alice angel x reader #poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #mommy long legs x reader #mommy long legs #daki #demon slayer fluff #daki x reader #x reader

258 notes · View notes

nabaidhean-neonach · 2 years

Text

@oncespilled from “i know you think you’re all alone out there, but you’re not.”

out there. is the kid referring to the same inky expanse that conrad's looking into? he frequently jokes about the catholicism in his family, that he could never buy into it. the parts he could relate to were so few, and most critically of all, he could never get behind the fundamentals. he could relate to his grandmother's interpretations better than anything else - that when we die we go back to where we came from. we were carved from the earth, sculpted by stars. keep love in your heart and never stop searching the skies. when you need us, that's where we'll be.

but the night is frigid and his skin doesn't pimple. the air has dropped below freezing, yet his breath doesn't fog. he's barely living, and he'll never die. and if you can't die...

he lowers his gaze without moving his head, his eyes slowly rolling toward robin. it's hard to look at robin and not find a smile growing on your face. he's like a puppy, without the teething and toilet training, although conrad was present for both of those events. he's been present for pretty much everything besides his actual birth. tam lin has him beaten there.

there was a time in his life, not all that long ago - at least not by conrad's standards - when he was similarly rescued from himself. your mother arrived in the knick of time is a phrase robin's heard more than once, and he supposes robin inherited her impeccable timing, among other things.

"you better get back inside before you get the sniffles," he says fondly. but he could use the company. "or at least put on a sweater. maybe the one with the train on it. a hat, too. or your mother will accuse me of personally giving you hypothermia. we creatures of the night can do that, you see."

He only just got out of the shower like ten minutes ago, and when Robin climbs out onto the rickety porch-slash-fire escape behind the spare room, it feels like his damp hair freezes over immediately. He’d laugh at the image of tiny little icicles sprouting out of his bangs, but he’s distracted by the gloom radiating off of his uncle like... well, like the heat coming off of the radiator in his bedroom.

God, he misses how warm his bedroom is right now.

Robin scrunches up his nose, although it doesn’t really draw away from the easy smile spreading across his face in answer to Conrad’s. Between the streetlamp around the corner and the neighbor’s back light, there’s just enough light here to throw his dimples into sharp relief, eyes bright and crinkling despite the way he’s shivering.

He’s nearly thirteen now, just old enough that his mom’s started sometimes looking at him and realizing how fast he’s catching up to Conrad. She thinks he doesn’t notice, and he’s been letting her, because honestly Robin doesn’t like thinking about it, either. It sits sour on his tongue, feels like something he should be able to do something about even when he knows it’s not.

“I’ve got a sweater,” he says, and leans back through the window to haul it ( the one with the train on it ) and the blanket he’d swiped from the couch out with them. They don’t really make the piercing wet cold of the wood under his feet go away, but it’s a relief to wrap himself up in them anyway.

“You know that’s not really scary, right? Maybe top ten worst vampire powers I’ve ever heard of, and Mom made me watch Twilight one time.”

Now that he’s cocooned he’s going to get, Robin sits and settles down on the porch, considering the lack of stars above them ( Light pollution, he knows. He’s seen how many more there can be on road trips. Or maybe tonight’s just as gloomy as Conrad is ) and the cloud of his breath where it keeps appearing and vanishing in front of his face.

“Is it lonely out here?”

#⚀ alone #ɪᴄ ⚀ robin #1٫000 ʏᴇᴀʀs ⚂ queue #hungryyheart

1 note · View note

random-yandere-fandom · 3 years

Note

How about yandere TC meliodas but a soulmate au where him and the s/o( Fairy and goddess hybrid who fights for stigma) both share a connection to each other, from sharing emotion, to having vision of where they may meet for the first time. This seem like a nice concept, I imagine meliodas is use to constantly feeling pain from training all the way to fighting the war only to have a s/o who is yet to meet him but is willing to send over positive emotion and feeling to make him feel better. Im sucker for this kinds of things.

Oh hell yes, I love soulmate aus! Which is why it got a bit longer than what I normally write (and took so long lol)

Yandere TC Meliodas with soulmate darling

For as long as you can remember there had been a second layer to your emotions that you couldn`t quite grasp, let alone influence. It was just barely there, almost unnoticeable. Annoyance, nonchalance and a deep-rooted but hidden pain. After learning that those belonged to your soulmate, to the being your were destined to meet and love, you were baffled. Three emotions. A few feelings. Was that all they were capable of, or was that all they could allow themselves to? You mused that they felt your surprise and pity and hoped they wouldn`t connect the dots, they didn`t seem like the kind of person to appreciate such sentiments. Nonetheless you wanted to help. If they weren`t able to and didn`t have the opportunity to experience joy, wonder, excitement and a healthy amount of sadness and grief that one felt at ending a wonderful book with no continuation than you would have to do it for them. If they were hurt you could send them comfort and if they were bored you`d jump down a cliff if you must only to open your wings at the last second to send them a dose of mixed excitement and fear and laughter.

Meliodas had known of the concept of soulmates for as long as he could remember. Since then he had always been told that he wouldn`t need them, that demons barely needed their destined partner and only to allow any connection beyond the unavoidable should they be of the same race. He knew that something was wrong with that but in the end he didn`t care enough to do anything about that. So they felt what he did and at some point he`d know where you two would meet. Great. As long as they don`t get in his way and he can do what he must it`d be fine.

He always knew that his range of sentiments were by far not the widest or the happiest but he would do. Meliodas had to. He had to be strong and cold and unfeeling. That did not seem to be the case for his soulmate, however. There were a mix of emotions constantly changing, most of them he hadn`t even experienced himself. They are a bother, he told himself and ignored it. He also ignored the twinge in his chest whenever they felt sad, ashamed or dispirited. Told himself that he was lucky that they weren`t sending feelings consciously, especially when he had to concentrate.

That changed. There was no warning, no prompting, nothing. Meliodas was about to go to sleep when they did it for the first time. They must have felt his exhaustion and either they thought he didn`t deserve to rest or wanted to spite him because the next thing he knew he felt adrenaline coursing through his veins and excitement erupting. Cursing he sat up, trying to calm his racing hearts and suppress that stuff. The emotions promptly calmed down and went into their normal, ignorable state though he could make out some guilt. For good measure he made his annoyance clear before flopping back down and closing his eyes. That didn`t stop a small and rather short lived smile from surfacing.

Was it your best idea? No. Did you think about what you were doing? No. You had felt your soulmate`s fatigue and seeing as it was the afternoon and they didn`t normally feel like that at this certain time you had assumed that they needed a bit of energy. Luckily, you had been sitting on a rather high branch and before you could think it through you had thrown yourself of from it. Upon their rejection though you had quickly stopped your little stunt and the idea that they had wanted to sleep crossed your mind. Ups. This had been the first time you had enforced an emotion and it had gone wrong. Hoping that their first impression of you could still be fixed you laid low for a bit.

The next opportunity presented itself when you had discovered a beautiful small pond in the forest. It was surrounded by rich plant live and some ducks were swimming on it, the sunshine reflected and sparkled on the water’s surface. Deciding that now would be a good opportunity you checked on their emotions. There was no apparent change from normal so it should be fine. Carefully and a lot slower this time you let your admiration seep through to them and being encouraged by the response, which was nothing, you strengthened it, letting yourself enjoy the coolness of the water as you dipped your feet in. Sitting there you shared this feeling, the contrast of the warm light and the refreshing cold, the calmness of the forest, far away from the others and the silence only being broke by the wind and birds in the sky. With all the work you had been doing and the tense atmosphere of your partner the relaxation was welcomed with open arms.

After this first successful interaction you continued, first about once a week and then once a day and soon simply whenever you felt like it. You were a bit disappointed that your soulmate never openly reacted but you had noticed that their feelings had calmed down and that was enough to keep you going. Having long ago realised that they were fighting in the same war, the suspicion and caution mixed with the occasional numbness, you assumed that they numbed their feelings in hopes of suppressing regret, you sent as much comfort as you could. It was gut wrenching whenever you noticed the impassivity but you did your best to help.

Meliodas grew used to it, over time. He even grew to like it, not that he`d ever admit it. Sensing your enforced emotions brought him joy and comfort, knowing that there was someone out there who cared. He sometimes felt guilty about not replying but what did he have to share? So he let the one sided communication continue.

You always made sure to only strengthen positive emotions or small harmless sadness, just to let them know what you were feeling. This time however you feared that you had made a mistake. You were patrolling and you were careless. It was close to enemy territory but there hadn`t been an incident here and there was this beautiful flower in full bloom and you simply had to send your amazement. Doing just that you hovered over the flower, it`s sweet smell calming your mind. The next thing you knew was a sharp pain in your side as you moved away, away from whatever had slashed you.

It was a small demon and you were quickly able to take care of it before healing your wound. Before you could investigate if there were any others you felt their worry. It was overwhelming. For the first time they openly enforced their feelings and it was intense enough that you couldn`t breathe for a moment. You noticed some anger interlaced, too, directed at what had harmed you, you noted. Quickly sending them your calmed frame of mind you searched for any other attackers and upon finding none you returned to report to one of the other goddesses.

Meliodas had been walking down a lonely hallway when you noticed the flower. Humming in acknowledgement he opened the door to his room and froze. Instead of admiration you seemed to be in pain. What had happened? Were you okay? His mind raced as he allowed himself to worry and let that worry reach you. The seconds were he felt your pain, surprise, resignation and caution were agony. After he was assured you were fine he sighed in relief.

After the second time the demon decided that he should contact you more. After his initial worry had subsided he had become anxious. Not only could you be harmed at any time, he had no way of helping you, not without knowing who or where you were. He realised he didn`t know much of you. Was there someone who liked you beside him, someone you liked? He hoped not. You were his. You two were fated to be, no matter how stupid that sounded. However he had no real way of checking, so interacting with you like this had to be enough for now. He also grew more attentive of your passive emotions, not letting a single feeling pass his attention.

It is a well known fact that before you meet your destined other, you envision the place you will first meet. You had been waiting for that day for ages, knowing that soon after you`d finally meet them, your soulmate. They had been so much more communicative and their joy caused by interactions grew day by day. So when you opened your eyes in a supposedly dream and felt closer to them than ever before you knew that your encounter was drawing near.

The first thing you noticed were your surroundings which resembled a patch of woods just on the border to demon territory. It was cold and clouds hung deep over the sky, it was eerily silent. Not the most romantic, you decided, but whatever. Taking a closer look you noticed a figure approaching from the woods, across from you and the border. It was more of a shadow than anything, you could make out the rather small height but any other details didn`t quite seem to be comprehensive or noticeable. So this was them. You smiled, though you could guess that they wouldn`t see that with how they most likely perceived you in a similar way that you could view them. No words were spoken as you stood only meters apart, time seemingly frozen as all you could do was hope that you could stay like this for longer. Neither they nor you moved, fearing that otherwise the bubble would burst and the glass would shatter and you would wake up, more lonely than ever now that you were apart again. You couldn`t speak, somehow knowing that sounds would not travel far here, but you didn`t need to do that, as all you needed was your connection and bond as soulmates. Warmth, affection and joy swirled between you both and almost felt tangible, as if all you needed to do was reach out to drown in these emotions.

When Meliodas found himself in a dream more realistic than any other he wondered what had happened. He wandered a bit before recognising the forest to be the one crossing the border that Stigma established and vehemently defended. Feeling a presence he followed the strange pull, coming across the figure hidden in shadows with wings that couldn`t have been a fairy`s or a goddess`s. Something else or something in between? He didn`t care. All that mattered was the sense of recognition. It was you. His partner. His destined other. His soulmate. His.

Only after waking up did he realise where exactly you both would meet. The verge on which enemies would meet to battle. Where blood was spilled in the constantly ongoing war. The perimeter seemed in tact though, so you at least wouldn`t meet directly on a battlefield. One thing he did know now, however. You stood on opposing sides, Demons against Stigma, darkness against light, him versus you. How cruel to put you so far away from him, Meliodas mused. But if he had to he knew who to betray and who to stay loyal to.

You spend the next days searching for the exact place you two would meet, ignoring the suspicious stares and whispers about, oh, look, the hybrid is slacking of, no wonder. You wondered how they`d react to your soulmate who was undeniably on the opposite force of the conflict. You supposed one of you would have to switch sides and if you couldn`t convince them than you would have to do so. Though with how they ended up emotionally before you interacted you hoped they would agree with you. Even if the others were against it, the higher ups respected your hard work and if that didn`t work you`d ask Elizabeth, who always seemed hesitant about the war and disliked judging others no matter who they were, for help.

Either way, you thought, being prepared wouldn`t hurt. After finally finding the place you hid a small bag full of important belongings and necessities in the trunk of the hollow tree along with a small gift you hoped your soulmate would appreciate. Following the thickening of your bond you had started to feel other and smaller sensations of them and while you were quite distressed with how often they seemed to fight, you couldn`t deny the feeling of joy when you drank a wine and instantly knew that they liked it, having had a faint taste of it. Hoping that this time you could enjoy it together you made sure the bottle was secure before heading of again.

Every time the weather was like the one in your vision, your and their hope grew and while you reached the place in no time, having memorised the way, they still hadn’t found it. Meliodas wished to fly over the forest but he had seen himself walking and knew that was the only way to get to you. So he wandered around, over and over and when he finally recognised a turn he followed the path eagerly. It took a bit to notice your presence, it being hidden seeing as anything else would be suicide so close to a hostile region. He rushed through the trees, his and yours excitement mixing and growing as you waited, peering through the woods in hopes of catching a glimpse, the first glimpse of the person you had grown to love.

The wind, his hearts and time itself stopped as he came to a halt in front of you. Your eyes were the first things he noticed, shining with a light that warmed him, overflowing with affection. You stared just as much, his black eyes turning into a beautiful shade of green as he lowered himself to the ground, his black wings disappearing from sight. You did the same, letting your feet touch the earth below you before moving one in front of the other. The grin on your face widened as he did the same and before you knew it he wrapped his arms around you.

“Hello“, you whispered. All former thoughts and ideas on your first words spoken to him seeming too far away to speak now, all you could do was great him. He was so warm, his arms protectively shielding you away from a world that was to cruel to a wonderful being like you, he decided, as he responded in the same manner. His hearts were finally beating again and were much faster now.

“My name is Meliodas“, he added, chin comfortably resting on your shoulders, eyes closed and melting into your embrace. It felt so right to finally have you. You fitted perfectly into his grasp, his eyes fluttering open and a smile tugging on his lips as he heard your name. You were finally here, with him. Meliodas knew in this moment he could never let you go. He would follow you wherever you wanted to and destroy anyone that dared and try harm you, no matter the consequences, as long as he could be with you, the one who cared and comforted him, the one that was made for him and the one he was made for, his soulmate.

363 notes · View notes

mackeydoodledoo · 3 years

Text

The Blacksmith Chpt. 2

Pairing: Dimitrescus x (Fem!)Reader/Daniela Dimitrescu x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You are a human, a human who is in charge of the armory; polishing, blacksmithing you name it. You are strongly valued by the Dimitrescu family, specifically one that has strawberry-blonde hair. She’d always come visit you whenever you’d be working on a new piece of armor or weapon.

Warnings: Fight; ends slightly bloody, Fluff at the end

A/N: So, I’m obsessed with armor n such and hearing that there’s an armory when you fight Cassandra.... So, we are making a story about a Blacksmith falling for one of the Dimitrescu daughters! So this one’s short but stay tuned for part 3!

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

When you adjust yourself, you fall off the chair you fell asleep on. Falling off the chair makes you fully awake however, a headache surges through your head as you gain your bearings.

“You’re awake,” Cassandra says, from the other side of the room

“Lady Cassandra,” You groan in pain, trying to gain your eyesight again, “When did you get here?”

“For awhile now,” She says, “You looked real peaceful sleeping, so I decided to not wake you.”

“Oh, well- thank you,” You say standing up, “I was in the middle of the sheath for this sword but I guess I passed out on it. This is what I’ve been burning the midnight oil on.”

You sigh as the metal lining for the top and bottom of the sheath barely holding onto the base form you have made.

“This shouldn’t be too hard,” You talk to yourself, “We just have to clamp them down more...”

You find some clamps and clamped down the design and leave it. However, while you were waiting for the sheath to finish up, you turn to another table and there was the sword you had finally finished.

“Ahhh,” You sigh in relief

When you picked it up you began to do some practice swings. However, when you stopped swinging it, you noticed how the blade began glowing. It began creating some kind of engraving you clearly had not made.

“What-What’s going on?” Cassandra asks you

“Do you think I know?!” You ask back

The room began glowing slightly brighter than earlier. When you looked at the blade itself, you somehow began reading the engraving.

“Whomever shall wield this blade, shall be worthy of all,” You read aloud

As sudden as it came, the brightness went back into the blade and your surroundings go back to the way it was before.

“’Whomever wields this blade shall be worthy.’?” Cassandra repeats your words, “What is that supposed to mean? And how were you able to read the engraving? It looked to be in some ancient language.”

“Do you think I have the answer to that?” You ask her, “’Whomever wields this blade’... Lady Cassandra, try to lift the blade.”

“Why would I-”

“Just do it,” You say, not being able to put up with her arguing as well as wanting to end the arguing with her

She finally decides to not question you any further and grabs the handle of the sword. However, when she was able to move it however, she wasn’t even able to lift it off of the ground. She quickly puts the sword down and straightens herself out.

“Won’t Uncle Karl be here tonight for it?” Cassandra asks

“Yes...” You say, “But, if he finds out about that whole ‘you are worthy, you get to wield this longsword’ and the moment he will realize he ‘isn’t worthy’, he will have my head...”

“I won’t let that happen,” A familiar voice says

Both you and Cassandra turn your heads to see Daniela walking towards you. However she does not look very happy.

“This is my cue to make my leave, I will see you around y/l/n,” Cassandra says as she leaves

“Before you even go off on her and I, she was in here by the time I woke up,” You explain, “I do need your help my lady.”

Daniela’s scary demeanor drops once you explained the issue.

“I was going to pester mother today,” Daniela says, “But for you my dear, I will.”

You smile in relief. You begin guiding her through sword making. Although you only had so many hours before Heisenberg would come for his long sword. However, you didn’t realize how much time went by because You look at the door and notice Alcina in the doorway.

“My lady,” you gasp, dropping the newly crafted blade

“my daughter, I have been calling for you in the last hour,” Alcina states to her daughter, completely ignoring you

“Sorry mother,” Daniela says sorrowfully

“It’s not her fault my lady,” You interrupt, “I asked for her help.”

“And with what did you need help with?” Alcina asks, clearly frustrated

“Something happened with the blade that I had made earlier,” You started, “You may not believe me, but Cassandra had also witnessed it happen. The blade was engraved with ‘whomever wields this blade shall be worthy’... I’m worried that blade is only meant for me... And I have never seen combat.... But, I’ve asked Lady Daniela for her help to make the exact same blade before Heisenberg gets here. I believe I can take care of everything else at this point. You really have to give your daughter credit my lady. She’s a real help. Maybe yo should have her come down here more often.”

Daniela blushes at your compliment however, Alcina only gives an “hmm.” Before taking her daughter out of the armory. You and Daniela make eye contact and she blows you a kiss. You catch it and gently place it over your scar that Daniela had made the day before. You turn back to your sword and begin the leather work on it, making sure it’s pristine however done as quickly as possible.

As you finish the sheath, you hear the door open. You quickly place the blade into its sheath and turn to greet whomever had come through the door.

“Sir Heisenberg,” You greet him, “My Ladies.

“My gosh you look tired y/n,” He sighs, “Perhaps I had made you do too much...”

“You’re such a fool Heisenberg,” Alcina ridicules her younger brother, “If you had given y/n more time she-”

“Not at all sir and my lady,” you lie, “You’ve given me things to do and I’d much rather be doing my blacksmithing work.”

You hold the blade up to him as he takes it. You watch him draw the blade and do some practice swings with it.

“Perfectly weighted,” He mumbles, “Exquisite designing... Now we have to test its durability.”

Shit..

Whenever you’d make a new blade, you’d always test the blade’s durability first however you didn’t get the chance to yet because they all came in at the same time.

Heisenberg walks up to one of the armored stands and raises the blade. You hoped that no one else could see the sweat running down your temples as Heisenberg walks up to a set of armor and slashes it. The blade is bent.

I’m dead....

“What the hell is the meaning of this?!” Heisenberg walks up to you, “You are one of the best blacksmith’s in the region! How could you let this happen?! I shall feed you to my lycans!!”

No words were formed out of your mouth, however, being a protective mother of her castle, Alcina takes Heisenberg by the wrist as Daniela stands in front of you, all protective like.

“You do not make the rules in this castle Heisenberg!” Alcina snarls, “I say what’s to say with her.”

“Shut your damn mouth!” Heisenberg growls

He takes you by the collar and begins to practically drag you out of the castle.

“y/n!” Daniela yell, “Don’t take her away from us Uncle Heisenberg!!”

“You can find another plaything to eat,” He continues dragging you

Daniela yanks on your ankle in an attempt to get a grasp on you, Heisenberg yanks harder, making Daniela fall forward.

“Heisenberg you let go of y/n this instant!” Alcina scream as soon as she sees her daughter fall

“Then why don’t you try and make me?!” He taunts his older sister

As Heisenberg enters the main entrance to drag you out of the castle, all five of you begin hearing an explosion.

“Intruders?!” Alcina calls out, “I’ll have their head! Daniela, make sure they don’t lay a finger on y/n.”

“I’ll make sure she won’t be touched mother,” Daniela says, slightly angered

She yanks you form Heisenberg’s grasp and carries you over her shoulder.

“Daniela I can help,” You say, “I just need to get back to the armory and-”

“You are not to help us!” Daniela yells

“Why not?!” You ask

Daniela puts you back onto your feet as she looks at you.

“Daniela answer me.” You say, more firmly this time, “Why wont you let me help?!”

“You’re human and you need to be protected!” Daniela states

“I may be a human, but I’m also a blacksmith!” You yell this time, “I can for sure as hell handle myself out there!”

“You’re still not going to help!” Daniela yells back

“Why the absolute hell do you want to lock me away knowing you might die?! Do you want to leave me here?! Why is it so important to you that you keep me safe?!” You ask all of these questions

In a quick motion, Daniela cups your face in her hands, lips crashing onto yours.

Chapter 3

#daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil village #karl heisenberg #female reader

181 notes · View notes

love-and-monsters · 3 years

Text

In the Woods

M forest creature X F human, 5,671 words.

The world has ended and strange creatures now roam the Earth. You survived the end, but can you manage to make your way in this strange new land?

The trees above my head groaned and snapped. I froze, pressing my stomach to the ground. Something skittered through the branches, tiny claws scratching against the bark. It was probably a squirrel. It was almost definitely a squirrel. Regardless, I pressed myself close to the ground until it was gone.

When the forest was still and silent again, I pushed myself to my feet. My muscles were stiff and achy. I’d broken my back building my garden yesterday, and, regardless, I had to tromp through the woods in search of something to eat.

Despite my aches and pains, the hunger gnawing at my stomach, I was still one of the lucky ones. I was alive.

The Surge had happened nearly three months ago. Within two weeks, every major city had been leveled. The ground itself seemed to reach up, like the Earth was trying to slough off its outer skin. Plants had grown lighting quick, vines and roots overwhelming steel and stone within moments. Aftershocks had wracked the globe for another month, but when it was over, there was precious little of humanity left.

And then they had come. Strange creatures. Some of them looked human. Some of them did not. I avoided them. They were unnatural beings, things that grew plants from their bodies and were impervious to attack. I’d been with another group, for a while. The creatures shrugged off bullets and plants jumped to their command. I had been the only survivor.

I had no interest in fighting them anymore. The Earth was gone. I hadn’t seen another human in weeks. For all I knew, I was the only one left. I hoped not, but even if I wasn’t, I didn’t have much hope of ever finding another one.

I’d been lucky to find even a small patch of land to carve out a home in. I’d managed to scrounge up a tent and some blankets, located a few wild plants to start a garden, and even found some prepared food, though not a lot.

Hunting was my main way of sourcing food. I set several snares every night. Guns were difficult to find, bullets were worse, and even if you managed to locate both of them, they almost certainly didn’t go together. Knives didn’t run out of bullets and, providing the snares weren’t badly damaged, I could reuse them.

A rabbit already dangled from my belt. I was getting better at butchering them, and I was glad for its thick fur. Winter was on its way, and I could use all the warming items I could get.

Most of the traps were empty. I reset them one by one and headed to the snare closest to my camp. It was rare that there was anything in that one- maybe the animals knew I was there and didn’t trust the area.

Something crunched as I approached. I froze. The crunching continued. It didn’t seem to be getting closer or further away. There was a wet tearing noise and a sickening snap and my stomach rolled over. That wasn’t something moving through the undergrowth. That was the sound of something eating.

I crept slowly forward, shuffling my feet so I wouldn’t step on any twigs. I slipped behind a tree, breathing deeply. When I was sure I had myself under control, I peeped in the direction of the sound.

There was something hunched over the snare. The wet, snapping noises came from the corpse of a groundhog, which had been pulled open, its red, dripping flesh spread across the ground. The hunched figure was humanoid, roughly. Its limbs were long and spindly, with its fingers coming to dark brown points. Twisting, gnarled branches sprouted from its head, though they were small, probably so they wouldn’t impede its movement. It had long, deep green hair that fell loose down its back. It seemed to be wearing a long coat that flowed around it when it moved. The creature ripped chunks off the dead animal and bit down on them, messily tearing into them.

I gagged. I couldn’t help it. The creature’s messy smacking was disgusting. One of its pointed ears twitched and it spun around.

It was nearly seven feet tall, standing on thin, bony legs. It balanced on its toes, feet elongated like a four-legged animal. Red was smeared all down its front. Its face was human-esque, but its mouth had only sharp teeth and its eyes were flat green, no pupil or sclera. Its chest was the oddest part- it shouldn’t have been able to live. I could see its ribcage, but it seemed to be made out of gnarled wood. There was no skin stretched over its chest. Instead, there seemed to be a small bush in its ribcage, with tiny flowers sprouting out between the bones. It still lifted and fell with breathing, even though it didn’t seem to have any lungs.

Cold terror made me freeze. My knees were trembling. I brandished my knife, but I had no illusions. If this thing wanted to kill me, I would be dead. It could breathe without lungs. How would I even start to kill it?

We stared at each other. The creature cocked its head to one side. A long, slender tongue flicked out of its mouth, trailed around its lips. It seemed to be assessing me as much as I was assessing it.

We stood there for several long moments. I was almost afraid to breathe. Curiosity seemed to be the only thing keeping me alive.

Something snapped a few feet to my left. The creature’s head swiveled, ears twitching. It snarled, baring its red-stained teeth, then plunged off into the undergrowth. There was a crashing, snapping noise that got fainter as it moved away.

I let out a slow breath. Relief made me dizzy. It was gone. I had lived.

Mechanically, I cleared the trap, dragging the dead body away from it. I wasn’t eating it. Scavengers could have it. After some consideration, I reset it. If the creature came back, then I would consider moving it, but I wasn’t shifting it on a one-off. Maybe the creature was just passing through.

I headed back to my tent and butchered the rabbit. It was tasty, juicy. I tended my garden, making sure that everything was properly arranged before I headed to bed.

I didn’t sleep well that night. There was something howling in the woods, a constant screaming that sounded like a cross between a wildcat and a human.

Over the next few days, I became more and more convinced that seeing the creature hadn’t been a one-off. I didn’t see it hunched over, crunching on any more raw animals, but I saw signs of it. Traps that had clearly been tampered with, that had scraps of fur and blood on them, but hadn’t been reset. Trails of disturbed dirt around my camp. Claw marks on the trees, roughly around the creature’s height.

I didn’t like the fact that one of those things had set up camp near me and was stealing my food, but I wasn’t sure there was anything I could do. I hadn’t seen it again, and I was fairly sure I couldn’t drive it off. The only thing I could do was hope I kept avoiding it.

The howling at night hadn’t stopped. It seemed to be getting closer. The sound seeped into my dreams.

It was a chilly morning when I stepped outside to find a dead deer sprawling in the middle of my camp.

I froze. The doe had been killed by something with claws and teeth, its throat torn open and stomach slashed in ragged edges. But it hadn’t been savaged or eaten like it should have been. And it hadn’t been killed here. My camp wasn’t disturbed and I hadn’t heard the sounds of a struggle in the night. Something had killed the deer, dragged it to my camp, and left it for me.

There was a tingling sensation on the back of my neck, like something was watching me. I looked around. Nothing.

Was the deer a threat? ‘If you stay here, this will happen to you.’ I couldn’t move. I’d set up a life here. Moving would mean abandoning most of my belongings and starting over. With winter bearing down on me, it would be a death sentence.

I dragged the deer a short distance away. If this thing wanted to drive me out, it was going to have to do it the hard way. I wouldn’t be taking its threats.

My traps were undisturbed for the first time in a while. There was a chubby groundhog in one of them, which was nice. I attached it to my waist and returned to camp.

It seemed undisturbed. That was reassuring. I tried to fortify the camp a little more, setting up a makeshift fence. I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to stop anything, but it made me feel a little safer.

There was a pile of small animals in my camp when I woke up the next morning. They’d all had their necks neatly snapped and were arranged together neatly. Something intelligent had placed them there.

I buried them outside of camp. The tingling feeling of being watched was worse than ever.

The noises at night were getting closer. I could barely sleep. They were close by, just outside of camp. I kept thinking of that thing I’d seen in the woods, the human frame with those green eyes and strange, open chest.

Animals kept appearing in my camp. They varied in size and killing style- some of them had their necks snapped, some were messily eviscerated, some had simple, clean killing cuts. I dragged them out of camp each time. The amount of corpses was starting to disturb me. They were going to attract scavengers to my camp.

Several days after the corpses had started appearing, I emerged from my tent to see the creature hunched in the clearing. It was crouching over the dead body of a stag. There were no visible wounds on it. It could have been sleeping, except for the unnatural angle of its neck.

The creature froze, staring up at me. Its blank, green eyes betrayed no emotion. My heart thundered in my chest. I didn’t even have my knife on me- it was still in the tent. I’d gotten careless. If this thing killed me, it was totally my own fault.

The creature looked back down at the stag, then, slowly, deliberately, it pushed the carcass toward me. It looked up at me, back down at the stag, then up at me again. Its lips parted over its many sharp teeth.

“Good?” Its voice wasn’t what I was expecting. I thought, if such a thing could speak, it would have a rasping, unnatural quality to it. There was a strange tone to it, an echo that made it sound like two people were speaking at once. The dominant voice, though, was a baritone and surprisingly soothing.

“You can talk?” I said. The creature blinked at me. It took a moment to parse my words, then it rose to its full height. At nearly seven feet tall, it towered over me.

“Is this acceptable?” One of its hands spread, gesturing down to the carcass at its feet. I gaped at it, uncertain what it meant. It waited, still as a statue.

I licked my lips. There was an odd sense in the air, like I was partaking in some kind of ceremony I didn’t understand. But the creature was clearly offering the stag to me, and it felt improper to reject the gift. I took a deep, steadying breath.

“Yes. It’s… acceptable.” There was a faint quaver in my voice. “Thank you.”

The creature bent into a deep bow. Without another word, it turned and walked back into the forest.

I stared after it until it had completely vanished from view, then sank to the ground. My hands were shaking as I examined the carcass. I tried to review everything that I knew. The creature was the one that had been bringing me dead animals. Accepting the gift had some kind of significance, I was sure, but I didn’t know what it was. Stories of fairy deals and people being spirited away marched through my head. I shook them off. Whatever the creature wanted, it didn’t seem to want to drag me off anywhere.

I spent the rest of the day in my camp, carefully butchering the carcass. Maybe it was a bad idea to accept the gift, but I had to admit that it was a lot of meat. Properly dried, it could last a while, maybe over the whole winter.

It was silent that night. I finally managed to get a peaceful night’s sleep.

The creature was still gone when I emerged in the morning. And yet, the tingling feeling of being watched was worse than ever. Every nearby rustle or snap of a twig made me jump. Sometimes, I thought I saw something shifting between the trees, but it vanished whenever I tried to get a look at it. I couldn’t bring myself to leave camp again.

There was no avoiding going out the next day, though. The traps needed to be checked, and I needed to forage. It only took me a few minutes to realize I was being followed.

I couldn’t see what was following me, but I could hear it padding through the undergrowth behind me. I was pretty sure I knew what it was. The creature seemed to be content to follow me from a distance, so I tried to be content just ignoring it. I managed to catch one or two glimpses of it as it slunk through the foliage, but it was pretty good at staying out of sight.

It was as I was checking the trap furthest from my camp that I heard it. The heavy, crushing footfalls of a behemoth.

Behemoth was the general, catch-all term for the oversized monsters that roamed the lands now. They were enormous, unstoppable, and virtually unkillable. I’d seen one get hit with a missile and keep moving. When I’d been with other humans, a behemoth in the area prompted a mass exodus. You didn’t engage. You just ran.

I turned, slowly, and saw it moving through the trees. It looked like some horrifying combination between a bear and a moose. Larger than either, it had a great, sloping body patched in moss. Enormous antlers sprouted from its head, with points like spears, and its muzzle was large and full of jutting teeth.

Its head was low enough that I could see its enormous eyes rolling around to focus on me.

A growl vibrated from its chest, loud enough to set my bones trembling. I scrambled back, but fear was making my limbs numb and clumsy. There wasn’t a point in running, not really. It could catch me easily. And this one was enormous and heavy, ready to bulk up for winter. There was no way it was going to pass up such an easy meal.

I couldn’t turn to run. I couldn’t take my eyes off the enormous, saliva covered teeth as the behemoth opened its mouth. It could snap me in two with a single bite. A solid certainty formed itself in the pit of my stomach. I was going to die here.

There was an echoing, enraged shriek from behind me. I whirled around just in time to see a pale, slender form bolt out of the undergrowth and lungs at the behemoth.

The creature, the one that had been following me, had sprung to an impressive height and attached itself to the behemoth’s face. The behemoth staggered backward, swinging its great head back and forth. Its scream was great and keening, loud enough to make me clap my hands over my ears. The creature seemed undeterred. It raised a clawed hand and plunged it down, gouging a create cavern in the behemoth’s eyes.

Blood sprayed down from the behemoth’s face. I gaped. It was bleeding. I’d never seen one injured. I didn’t know they had blood. But the creature was tearing into it as easily as it would tear into any other animal.

With another grating scream, the behemoth turned away. Apparently, I was no longer worth the effort. The creature dropped from its face and screeched after it, claws digging furrows into the ground.

The thundering footsteps of the retreating behemoth sounded for several minutes in the otherwise silent forest. The creature stared after it, stiff and focused as a hunting cat. When the behemoth’s footsteps had finally faded into silence, it whipped its head back toward me.

Blood trailed down its front. It was dark, almost oily, and an odd sort of rust color. I froze. Had it chased off the behemoth because it wanted to eat me itself? But then why hadn’t it just killed me before?

The creature approached me so its face was only an inch from mine. Its solid green eyes bored into mine. Then it reached out and took my shoulders in its hands, fingertips trailing along my skin.

“Safe,” it said in a tone that could almost be described as soothing. “Unhurt?”

I gaped at it. The creature tilted its head further to one side. “Unhurt?” it repeated. It was asking me, I realized.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m… I’m okay.” I hesitated for a moment. “Thank you.”

Its strange chest rose as it took in another breath. Then it leaned forward, nestling its face into my neck. Its arms came around me in something like a hug. It made a long, quiet noise of satisfaction before pulling back.

It- he- had saved me. I swallowed and slowly climbed to my feet. He watched me, unmoving. After a moment of hesitation, I unhooked a rabbit from my belt and handed it to him. It seemed right.

He took it from me with surprising delicacy. His head lowered and his jaws snapped shut around a chunk of flesh, tearing it from the bone. I grimaced at the wet snapping and tearing.

He followed me as I continued on to the rest of my traps. This time, he didn’t even bother to hide himself. He walked just behind me or at my side, munching on chunks of rabbit. I kept glancing back at him. He blinked back at me.

I’d sort of expected him to break away when we made it back to camp, but he strolled into the clearing like he belonged there. I watched him as he padded around the edges of the camp, sniffing at things. I couldn’t very well drive him off- if he could injure a behemoth, there was no way I was going to beat him in a fight. And his presence was certainly less unsettling than it had been a few days ago. But I didn’t know what he was doing here. What did he want?

When I headed inside my tent for the night, he made to follow me. I froze in the entrance, staring back at him. Fighting him was still out of the question, but I did not want him in my tent with me. There was a long, tense pause, then the creature backed away and slunk to roughly the center of the camp. He curled up into a tight ball, apparently trying to sleep.

I retreated into the tent and wrapped blankets around me. There was something strangely forlorn about him curling up in the middle of camp, alone. He looked… small. Harmless. The unsettling feeling twisted in my stomach until I fell asleep.

He was still in camp when I woke up, ripping chunks off a fat squirrel. He made a soft humming noise as I walked toward him.

“You’re still here, huh,” I said. Talking to him felt weird. I knew he could talk back, but it still felt odd to try and have a conversation with him. He looked back at me steadily. He looked neither confused, nor comprehending. “I don’t know what you want.”

If he could understand me, he didn’t seem to want to answer. He just ripped another chunk off the squirrel and chewed it, still looking at me.

When he was done eating, he stalked around the camp, examining the border. Often, he would reach up and run his claws down the length of a tree, leaving long scores in the bark. I watched him as he completed a circuit, then started fussing at the small barrier I’d created. He seemed to be trying to build it up.

And so it went for several days. The creature stayed in the camp with me, building up a small barrier around the edge of the camp. Whenever I went out to check traps, he would follow me. Occasionally, he would hunt, dragging carcasses back to camp. He always allowed me to take some of whatever he brought. Eventually, I found myself offering a section of my hunts to him. It only seemed fair. A tense sort of partnership had formed between us. As odd as it was, I had gotten used to him. I was enjoying having some company. When I woke in the morning and he wasn’t present, I found a stab of loneliness sinking in between my ribs.

He meandered back into camp near midday, hands cupped around something. I glanced up at him. “Hey,” I said. “What have you got there?”

He opened his hands. There were clumps of bright red berries in his hands. He held them out to me, head tilted, waiting.

“Uh.” I didn’t recognize the berries and, with no leaves or branches to help identify them, I wasn’t going to eat them. “Sorry. I don’t think I can eat those. You can have them.” He blinked at me and extended his hands again. “Uh, no. I can’t have those.” I reached out and carefully curled his fingers over them. His hands were surprisingly warm. I was rather expecting them to be cold and corpse-like. Something twisted in my chest, a wave of loneliness that I couldn’t quite choke back. I was so unused to having someone with me. I’d managed to bury the feelings of loneliness, but they were starting to come bubbling back up.

He stared at me for a moment, then walked toward the edge of the camp, munching on the berries. I went back to the tending the fire. It was starting to frost overnight and the fire was becoming more and more necessary. If I wasn’t huddled close to it, I was walking around to keep my body temperature up. Despite not wearing much more than a cloak and pants, the creature seemed unbothered. He slouched next to the fire, staring into it. I could see the fire reflected in his eyes, a burning emerald flame.

As soon as the sun started to lower, the cold really set in. The sun and the fire were the only bits of warmth in the bitingly cold air and without one of them, the chill came on swiftly and remorselessly. There was no going back to the tent. I huddled next to the fire, shivering. The flame kept guttering in the wind. Leaving the fire to grab extra bits of wood was painful, my fingers stiffening in the cold and my skin almost burning in the wind. I huddled in on myself, wrapping fur over my body. It was still early winter and I was already half-mad from the cold. How was I going to survive the really bad months?

Something nudged my leg. I looked over. The creature was crouched next to me, half his face illuminated by the firelight. The sharp planes of his face made harsh shadows dance over his features.

“Need something?” I said. The creature pressed close to me. He was warm against me, driving the shivers out of me.

Slowly, like he was trying to give me a chance to stop him, he wrapped his cloak around my shoulders. He pressed me in close to his side. Warmth radiated over me, like there was a miniature sun beaming out from his chest.

I leaned into him. If I closed my eyes, I could pretend that there was a human there with me. His hand pressed gently to my back, and where his fingers lay, warmth radiated through my skin. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him closer. My shivering abated somewhat.

Once I was feeling better, I looked up at him. He was blinking down at me, his green eyes difficult to read, but still utterly focused on me.

“Why are you doing this?” Speaking was a little difficult. Breathing in seemed to freeze my lungs. But being close to his warmth helped, and the curiosity was eating at me. He looked down at me. I wasn’t really expecting an answer, but his mouth opened and his voice issued softly forth.

“Protect you.” His voice was whispery, still with that strange double-tone.

“Protect me,” I repeated. He lowered his head until his chin was resting on top of my head. I could smell him, I realized. It was sort of pine-like, with a smell under that, like sawdust.

“Pack protects pack,” he said. His chest shifted as he drew in a deep breath. “We are pack now.”

“We’re… a pack?” I tried to make sense of his words.

He drew back a little bit so he could look down into my face. “You accepted my offering,” he said. “We have exchanged prey. We are bound now- a pack.”

Things fell together in my mind rather quickly. The marking of trees, the prey dragged into the camp, the way he had lunged to my rescue- he was trying to impress me. He was courting me. And in giving him the rabbit, I had accepted.

I leaned into his chest. It shifted, and his arms came tighter around me. For the first time in a long time, I had a companion. An image of him leaping out to protect me filtered into my mind. A small smile tugged at me mouth.

“Okay. We’re a pack,” I said. And just like that, it was no longer me against the world. It was the two of us.

Underneath me, somewhere in that strange, hollow chest, a rumbling purr started.

I spent most nights with him after that. He was incredibly warm and when I wrapped a blanket around the both of us, it was impossible to be cold.

The first snows came and I carefully kept the camp free of as much snow as I could manage. He focused more on creating a stronger barrier around the camp, fussing with brambles and branches. There was much less prey in the traps now, and I’d taken to ice fishing with little luck. He was much more skilled at catching animals than I was now, and every few days he would bring back some small morsel to the camp. I was always fed first, and he would only eat after I was done. I found myself wondering exactly why I’d been so afraid of him in the first place- after watching him catch snowflakes on his tongue and chatter insistently whenever I didn’t finish a meal, it was hard to see anything frightening in him.

Whenever I decided to check my traps, he came with me. It was reassuring, to have him there. If he could drive off a behemoth, I was fairly certain there wasn’t much that could bother him.

It was when we were checking the traps on the edge of our territory (I assumed it was the edge- he marked the trees there and didn’t like going beyond that boundary), that he stiffened. His pointed ears twitched. A low growl started in his chest and he bared his teeth.

I went still too, straining to listen. There was a faint rustling, like something was moving through the undergrowth. That wasn’t unusual, though, not enough to make him react like that. I drew closer to him and he shifted, like he was trying to cover me with his body.

“What is it?” I whispered. He pulled his lips back from his teeth, the growl coming deeper and stronger.

Something snapped nearby, the sound echoing through the stillness like a gunshot. Our heads whipped toward the noise in unison. He gave a resounding, challenging cry.

Slowly, something emerged from the bushes. It was like him, I realized. The same species, or whatever. They both had long hair, open, wooden chests that had flowers twining out of them. The newer creature didn’t have the small, branch-like antlers, though, and something about its posture or its shape made me think it was female. Regardless, she stood taller than him and her claws seemed longer.

He made a snarling noise that I interpreted as a warning. The other creature’s head turned as she looked between me and him. An expression like confusion crossed her face and she made a questioning noise.

He snarled out another warning, a thin strand of saliva dribbling from his bared teeth. The other creature considered him for a moment, then crouched down, teeth bared. The hairs on the back of my neck lifted. I recognized a hunting crouch when I saw one.

She lunged. He knocked me aside and took the brunt of her attack, rolling backward into the snow. I expected shrieking and snarling, but they were oddly silent as they rolled in the snow. All their energy was focused on defeating the other.

He was trapped beneath her, teeth snapping everywhere he could reach. She was struggling to keep a hold on him, but it was clear she was in a better position. Her claws dug into his side and her teeth snapped dangerously close to his throat.

I needed to do something. But what could I do? These things were practically indestructible, at least to humans. But I needed to help him. Her teeth snapped close to his throat again and he made a strangled whining sound.

Fuck it. I grabbed a stick from the ground and lunged. If she killed him, she was going to kill me anyway. Might as well die trying to protect him.

I jammed the splintered end of the stick down into her face. It just barely missed her eyes, scoring a long, bleeding line down her cheekbone. She shrieked, startled, and turned to see her attacker.

It was the opening he needed. He drove into her, knocking her off him and into the ground beneath them. Before she could focus back on him, he swung down, claws plunging them deep into her shoulder. Blood sprayed into the white snow. With a final, agonized shriek, the other creature squirmed away and bolted back into the forest. He didn’t bother to pursue her. He just stood and watched as she vanished into the trees.

As soon as she was gone, he turned toward me. “Okay?” he asked, looking me up and down. “Safe?”

“Yeah, I’m all right. You?” He appeared uninjured, for the most part. There were a few small scratches and he was moving like he was in some pain, but he didn’t seem badly hurt.

“Bleeding,” he said, pointing a claw at me. I looked down. There was a long cut running down the length of my right forearm. It must have happened when she rounded on me. I hadn’t even been able to feel it. Now that I was aware of it, I could feel the stinging pain.

“Ow,” I said, probing at it lightly. It wasn’t particularly deep, but it wasn’t shallow, either. He moved closer to me and crouched, taking my arm delicately in his hands. His long, sinuous tongue slid out of his mouth and ran once along the cut. The pain grew dull, more of an unpleasant tingling than anything, and the blood dripped sluggishly.

“Home,” he said, tugging on my arm. He stayed close to me as we headed back to camp. We leaned on each other. I appreciated the comfort.

When we returned to camp, I dragged out my medical kit. He helped dress the wound, giving it a few more licks. I was a little leery about allowing him to clean it like that, but he seemed to know what he was doing. I figured it couldn’t hurt that much. Once it was fully wrapped, I lay down next to the fire. He lay down with me, arm draped over my body.

“Who was that, the one that attacked us?” I asked. Warm breath huffed against the back of my neck.

“Wanted a pack. Tracked my scent,” he said. “Was not happy that I already had a pack.”

“She recognized that we were… uh. A pack?” I said. There was an odd, fluttery sensation in my stomach.

“I claimed you,” he said. “My scent surrounds you. As your scent is around me.” He nuzzled closer to me. “We fought her off. She will not return. She knows she is beaten.”

“You did most of the work,” I said. He laughed.

“Would not have won without you.” He pressed his head into the back of my neck. “My mate.”

I looked up at him. “Mate?”

He nodded slowly. His eyelids were starting to droop. “The first two members of a pack are mates,” he said. “We will grow our pack over time. But not now.” He leaned into me, eyes closing. “Now we will wait.”

I reached up and stroked my fingers through his hair. He made a soft purring noise and leaned into me more. The world was different now, I thought. It was a place with new creatures, new ways to live, and you needed to be new in order to survive in it.

It was new, but perhaps it was good. With a yawn, I settled in against my mate for a nap.

#exophilia #forest monster #forest screature #forest deity #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster mate #OCxOC #MxF

437 notes · View notes

delldarling · 3 years

Text

all that matters | merrick

chasing truth | chapter nine male faerie x gender/body neutral reader 7803 words lemon | teasing about relationship, communication about feelings and past relationships, kissing, nipping/mild biting, hair pulling, oral, hands, lube, penetrative sex, banter & talking during sex chapter index? or chapter eight?

⊱ ────── .⋅ 🜁 ⋅. ────── ⊰

For a moment or two, you can bury the knowledge of Faerie behind the facades you've come to know and care for. You've known Gar as nothing more than a handsome, nerdy human being for years, and Merrick? Sarcastic, awkward Merrick has been one of your closest friends over the past year and change. It's safe to say that you've spent ample time in their presence, trading jokes and building stories you know you'll share for years to come.

That false screen over their true selves won’t ever last now though. You know what lies under their glamour, and you know them too well. You can't ignore the things you've seen. Neither you nor Merrick will ever doubt Gar's morality and honesty again. Not when it comes to those he cares for. Not after what he’s told you and Merrick about his Court.

The car doors close in quick succession, one after the other, echoing down the dim, silent street. No one comes to investigate. No lights flicker behind the curtained windows, and no one cracks open their door. It's a relief, and yet a mild disappointment, knowing what you're all about to do.

“This still doesn’t sit particularly right with me,” you say softly, words barely more than a breath tickling your lower lip. You clutch your bag to your chest, fingertips digging into the seams to better distract yourself. Ditching the car and taking another makes sense, but just because it makes sense doesn’t mean you have to like it. Or approve of it.

Merrick can’t quite look you in the face, but Gar only shrugs. “It’s not the kindest option, not by a long shot, but we can’t travel on foot,” he says. Part of you wants to cringe because Gar doesn’t mean we, he means you. “Besides, we need to make it to where we’re staying in the next few hours, and this is the quickest way to tempt Roran closer without putting any of us in danger.”

You turn, eyeing the cars lining the street, and sigh. More stealing. It’s fairly silly that you’re worrying about this kind of crime, especially when you’ve already been riding around in a stolen car all day with a faerie assassin. You can’t stop the itch of the thought in the back of your brain, which probably means this is how you’re attempting to compartmentalize everything.

“I won’t even break the seatbelts this time,” Merrick tells you, cautiously placing his hand on your shoulder, fingers feather light. Relief eases the tension around his eyes when you don’t move away, and he sighs when you step into the circle of his arms. “If you don’t want to witness it,” he whispers, leaning his head against yours, “then I suggest you keep holding me. He’s right though. We can’t keep the same car, not after we clouded the whole thing with glamour.”

“I know,” you say against his neck, enjoying the warmth of his skin against your cheek and temple. “I get it, the whole thing, but it’s not going to stop feeling wrong just because I know it’s necessary.”

Merrick breathes deep, and you can already tell that he’s going to keep trying to explain it away. “If we thought that-”

“You don’t need to defend yourself. We’ll get in the new car, we’ll head to our stop for the night and it’ll be fine. I just… Need to compartmentalize, and that’s rather new.” You sigh against his neck, the tickle of breath making him shiver. Merrick shifts, hands leaving your back and sliding up your shoulders until he can cradle your face in his hands. His thumbs stroke over your cheekbones, tender and careful, and you can’t think to do anything but blink up at him.

“Or I could distract you?” He offers, and bends his head down, covering your lips with his. A few hours ago and you would have been too tired, too on edge and hungry for food to let him try this, no matter how attracted you are to him. But everything with him, regardless of the fear and adrenaline, is still brand new and leaves your fingers aching, eager to keep him close. Even with all that you’ve learned, Merrick still feels the same, warm skin and calloused fingers, and it’s familiar and… comforting. When his mouth opens, breath hitching as you lean in against him, you find yourself wondering how eager he’s been for more of this. More of you.

Merrick puts his whole body into the kiss, pressed against you from chest to thigh, the taste of floral tea filling your senses as his fingertips carefully stroke behind your ears. He hums into your mouth when you roll your tongue and even though your eyes have fallen closed, you could almost swear that a brilliant light is beginning to shi—

“Hey!” Gar shouts hoarsely, and something hard bounces off of Merrick’s forehead. When the two of you stop kissing, eyes darting to the small item rolling slowly away from you, it turns out to be a small, wizened acorn, cap long lost. The two of you turn to look at Gar with startled expressions and find him trying to hold a fierce scowl on his lips. A muscle in his cheek jumps, betraying his amusement.

“I hope the both of you realize what happens every time that starts up! And if you do then I suggest you take a moment to reflect... You don’t,” Gar says after a moment, stalking closer with a steady frown now on his lips. “Merrick, you light up like a firefly every time you touch! You may as well be a torch in the middle of the street!”

Merrick’s mouth opens, attempting to disagree, but his lips curl and his nose wrinkles, like he’s tasted something off.

“You do. I’m over here jimmying open a car door, trying to steal it, and suddenly there’s a blazing light in the middle of the road! Everyone on this street is probably going to come out here, and-” Gar freezes when you shush him, eyebrows rising.

“Everyone is going to wake up if you’re shouting!” You snap, embarrassed but mostly tense because you still cannot quite believe you’re both being chastised for a handful of kisses. Both of the faeries grimace, shoulders hunching like they want the ground to swallow them whole. “I’m never going to say this again,” you mutter, already regretting your interruption, “but please: Go back to stealing the car, and Merrick and I will discuss his—his enthusiasm.” The frown on Gar’s face promptly vanishes.

“Enthusiasm,” he mutters, a goofy smile replacing his initial ire. He looks slyly at Merrick, but then holds up his hands in surrender when Merrick glares. “Right. Stealing. I’ll be quiet until it’s time to go.” He turns on his heel, heading back towards an old looking Datsun, a ridiculous little spring in his step. You’re fairly certain Merrick is going to make him pay for that later.

“So,” you say, your heart suddenly ricocheting off of your ribcage before it settles back into place. “You… You glow?” You have to fight not to laugh, though Merrick notices straight off. His eyes narrow before he sucks a deep breath in through his mouth.

He tries, twice, to say something, but ends up shaking his head and closing his eyes, breathing out through his nose. “Apparently,” he finally settles on. “You make me happy, make me- forget myself. Or forget everything else. I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again, but I’ll be more conscious of it.”

“Is that a normal thing?” You can’t help asking, laughing quietly when his shoulders slump.

“For my sake, I hope it isn’t. We should go though. I believe Gar is finishing up.” He nods his head in Gar’s direction, but you don’t even look towards your friend. Your eyes are caught on the collar of Merrick’s shirt, replaying everything Gar had confessed to earlier in the car.

“Gar doesn’t lie,” you murmur. “You agreed, he can’t have been lying. After everything he’s been through.... Is there any way—”

Merrick presses his lips together until they’re nothing more than a slash across his face. “If what Gar says is the truth, then none of us should have lived the lives we have.” Merrick grits his teeth, hands growing loose in their grip on your arms and nods towards Gar again. “Back in the car. Roran might not be close yet, but it still isn’t safe. The last thing we need is humans with guns seeing us stealing vehicles.”

You have to agree with that, but you still can’t help wondering about it all in the ensuing silence. Gar worked as a Guard in the Court of Land for the entirety of his adult life. He refused the Queen’s direct orders to kill a disobeying gardener, but... The Fae aren’t supposed to be able to disobey their monarchs. After Gar’s confession, he and Merrick had shared a serious, silent conversation with only a look. One you had no hope of deciphering and while you know you can’t actually do anything about Gar’s situation, you can’t stop yourself from worrying about it. You turn it over and over in your mind as the three of you drive away, meager belongings in hand, and time slowly slips away from you. You barely notice when you leave the main roads behind, but when the car pulls to a stop in almost full darkness, you lift your eyes. Gar has parked in the driveway of a rather ornately decorated cabin, surrounded on all sides by tall trees. You glance back down the drive, but all it reveals is more forest. You must be out in the middle of nowhere.

“I thought we were heading to a hotel?” You ask, confused as Gar gets out, grabbing both his bag and your own before you can even think to take hold of it..

“I said I knew how to use the internet, not that I was going to head to a hotel.” He gestures to the surrounding woods, trees shading parts of the cabin from view. “Hotels, or motels even, have too many witnesses. Even if we lock down on any glamour use and I hide my hands and ears?” Gar makes one pointed look Merrick’s way, eyes roving from his face, to the way he carries himself. Both of them have always been lovely, and Gar definitely has his fair share of admirers—Em comes immediately to mind—but Merrick?

With his fair curls, and the utter disdain he directs at just about everyone who shows him attention that he doesn’t want, he’s always stood out. Never mind that he hides his ears, and the great tattoos of his wings, you were hardly the only person who had been unable to tear your eyes away from him every time you met. You’re still not sure how he managed to hide so much of himself for so long, especially after all the times he’d hung out on camping trips or went out for drinks. Yeah. Gar doesn’t have to say anything else. No matter where you go, there is going to be someone who won’t be able to forget Merrick’s face, or demeanor, or both.

You glance back at the cabin as Gar passes you by. The clean windows and paved driveway, and the careful tending done to the planter boxes hanging from the windows...

“Did you book us an Airbnb?” You can’t help asking, rushing to keep up when Merrick starts walking to the door too.

Gar throws a sweet grin over his shoulder, cheek growing a shade darker with green. “Two bedrooms and everything. I’m going to leave you and Merrick to get settled,” he teases. You would like to kick him for that one, but you can’t actually deny that a few moments alone with Merrick will be pleasant. “And I’m going to grab food from a supermarket. I’ll be less... conspicuous by myself,” he says idly, like he’s still thinking everything through. He unlocks the door, not even bothering to set down the bags to do it, and then sweeps inside.

Gar is a whirlwind as he moves through the cabin, turning on lights and dropping your stuff in the small, but cozy main room. He gives you enough time to get through the door, checking out the small windows in the common area and the kitchen, and then turns to leave. He clasps Merrick’s shoulder once, nods his head at both of you, eyes already distant and then he’s gone, back through the still open door. You take a few steps after him, mouth opening to call out a goodbye, but he’s vanished. You blink, confused, because he didn’t even take the car, but then… Well, you knew already that the only reason they hadn’t left town on foot was because of you.

“That was weirdly intentional,” you mutter, quietly closing the door. For a moment, you hesitate, hand over the lock, mind racing. You can’t really ignore the fact that you don’t need any food. They’d brought plenty of things from the apartment in the array of bags that Merrick had brought in. Maybe he’s really just trying to give you and Merrick some time on your own? And he has the key, you remind yourself, finally locking the door. You turn, quietly wandering around the little cabin you’re going to be staying at for… who knows how long. You can feel Merrick’s eyes on you, but he doesn’t actually follow until you head into one of the bedrooms. Both of the rooms are medium sized, clean, and better than any standard motel, that’s for sure. The decor all has some kind of woodsy theme that makes you wrinkle your nose, but Gar might appreciate the irony of it, what with his tree affinity. We’re not X-Men, slips back into your head, making you smile wryly.

Merrick slides past you, groaning as he flops backwards onto the bed. His hat slips off of his head as he bounces, his curls falling in a picture perfect halo around his face. With no one else around, you’re not sure if his hair looks so bright because you don’t normally see him with his hat off, or if it’s because he’s beginning to glow in your presence. You bite back a smile.

“How are.. How are you holding up?” You ask, sitting so you can kick the knock-off keds down on the floor. You stay where you are at the lower corner, but after a moment you pull your legs up to cross them, noticing the storage space under the bed. The place is definitely lovely, but it’s still out in the middle of nowhere, and unknown. You wonder if anyone ever gets over wondering if something is underneath the bed, but you can’t bring yourself to get down and check. The momentary image of Roran waiting underneath has your heart speeding, though you’re not sure whether you want to laugh or shiver.

Merrick swallows, but summons up a smile for you. It’s not brilliant or blinding, but it’s real, if soft. “To be honest, I’m not actually sure?”

“You don’t have to know, Merrick.” You reach out, tugging a wrinkle in his trousers, just under his knee. “I’m asking if you need to talk about things. If you don’t want to—” You stop when Merrick shakes his head.

“I’m… I’m happy, because of you. Because you found out about me and you didn’t run. And... I’m hurting because of Roran.” His cheeks tense, which likely means he’s gritting his teeth again, trying to puzzle his way through the labyrinth of his own feelings.

You take a deep breath, unsure as to whether he’s going to be okay with the line of questioning you’re opening up, but you have to do it. It’s not even that you have to know, but Merrick very much looks like he needs to talk about it. He might not get another chance, not without Gar around, and you’re not sure he wants to do that, not after what you heard in the car.

“...Is Roran your ex?” You ask, fully expecting a wince and closed eyes, or for him to immediately look away.

“Are you going to be surprising me like this forever?” He asks instead, laughing softly. You give him a small smile, but otherwise continue to stare. Human or Faerie, the question he asked isn’t actually one you can answer and keep truthful, and besides, you’re trying to get him to open up. You don’t want to push, or have him change the subject so quickly. “Not exactly,” he finally says.

“Merrick,” you softly chastise, because you know there’s more to the both of them than that. He sighs, brows furrowing, but finally begins to speak.

“We made no declarations. Roran had plenty of other lovers and I didn’t mind. I—I was never much interested in anyone, but I didn’t mind passing the time with Roran. My interest in him was sparse, at best.” He frowns, like he realizes how that sounds and pauses to lick his lips. “I cared about his well being and I enjoyed his company, especially as a friend, but my interest lay in my work. In fulfilling the orders the King gave me, and I never felt like I had anything left to truly give him. Not really.”

“Did he.. Think you were exclusive to him?” You ask, drawing your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. You can’t deny that it’s an awkward feeling, knowing this. But Merrick has been by your side for a year, and you knew he was keeping secrets. It doesn’t change your feelings, however strange it might be, finding out that he’s been with others, but the knowledge does put a different spin on what you witnessed back at your house. “I’m not condoning anything, his actions or—I’m just trying to understand where he’s coming from,” you rush to say, when Merrick looks slightly pained.

“Not exactly,” he says again, and truly grimaces when the words pass his lips. “He asked for my love, asked for any scrap of attention I would be willing to throw his way, and for a time it was easy. I always liked him, and giving him that much had never really been a problem. But before I came, I told him I wasn’t his. That my heart was my own.” Merrick sits up, and he looks torn, staring down at his empty hands. “I told him I wouldn’t die, and that, I think, is what he was initially angry about. He thought I’d died, and I never made the effort to correct that worry.”

That you might be able to understand.

“Okay, that I might agree with,” you tell him softly, shrugging when he looks at you, dark eyes wide. “Do Faeries apologize? Because leaving someone who cares for you is one thing, but letting them think you’re dead is… a little much. Granted, we’ve been raised very differently, so I can’t actually speak for him.”

“I, yeah, I do owe him that,” Merrick agrees. “But my heart—it’s yours, now,” he tells you, voice low and fierce, and desperately earnest. His eyes search your face, trace your slowly smiling mouth and you’re suddenly very thankful that Gar decided to vacate the premises for a while. “I can’t change how I feel, though by Air I tried at first. But I don’t want to change how I feel about you. No matter what happens with Gar, or with Roran, I want to stay with you, if you’ll let me.”

Your chest feels as if it’s all tangled up in knots, nerves and worry utterly strangled by the sudden tidal wave of softness. “I want you to stay, too,” you say, eyes drifting to the leaf pattern on the bedspread. “Even if you do change your feelings, you’ve been in my life for a year now, and.. I see you in the future, you know? If it’s with me, then great, if it’s as friends? I can see that t-”

Merrick leans in close, your name on his lips, interrupting the awkward string of words spilling out of you. “Then I won’t be leaving,” he assures you, his curls crushed against your forehead. “Not for any of them. I can’t turn away from this, and I have to help Gar, but I won’t leave,” he whispers, watching you closely, like he’s afraid you might disagree. You reel him in for a kiss instead, trying not to let your eyes linger on the way his lips tremble, but then he’s smiling against your mouth.

⊱ ────── .⋅ 🜁 ⋅. ────── ⊰

It almost doesn’t make sense, knowing you’d spent hours in your bed with Merrick, exploring each other, mapping out every inch of each other’s flesh with fingers and mouths… And all of that was less than two days ago. While it had been happening, it had felt like the only thing that mattered, like you’d never forget it. Your heartbeat had been so loud in your head that you could barely hear yourself think beyond the next touch, the next kiss.

After the day you’ve had, after everything that’s happened since you forced yourself to grab a few hours of rest in a stolen car, part of you wonders if there aren’t things you imagined. Did Merrick really like it when you touched his ears, or bit at the lobe of them and traced the cartilage with your tongue? Had he really made you fall to pieces so quickly on the kitchen counter, or had it only seemed that way, with adrenaline and hope and lust running high?

The first touch of his fingertips under your shirt is electric though, and the callous on his thumb catching at your hip makes you shiver. Regardless of the time you’d taken before, or how fast or slow things had actually happened, the chemistry between you is a heady thing.

Merrick’s kiss is slow, and more than just the press or slide of his lips on yours. It’s the pause before he kisses you, the beat as he pulls away, mouth parted, his breath soft against your skin before his tongue touches your lower lip, and then his mouth closes, sucking slightly, like he’s trying to taste a drop of honey that he knows was left behind.

How are you supposed to keep quiet with such attention focused on you?

The first soft gasp has Merrick’s hands skimming over your middle, hand coming to rest on your heart, to gauge your pulse before he tries to get your shirt off of you. Part of you thinks you should tease him and struggle with the material—he’s always trying to undress you first, isn’t he? But you’re too eager to get his mouth back on yours, to curl your hand into the curls at the base of his skull and pull, exposing his throat for kissing.

As soon as you do that, as soon as your fingers are tangled in his hair, Merrick glows. You don’t bother to point it out, you don’t really want to halt things at the moment, but you bite at his neck, wondering if any marks you leave will glow too.

His eyes close when you pull a little harder, his cheeks grow ruddy with color and then you let your own eyes unfocus, losing yourself in the feeling of him under your hands. He runs just slightly warmer, though you’re certain that could be your imagination. The heat of him against you feels wonderful though, and leaves you wanting more. You slide a hand along his back, reveling in the change of temperature, and sigh when he shudders under the sweep of your fingers.

He doesn’t pull away—his breath is coming faster as you suck at the skin of his neck—but Merrick’s hips shift, his legs settling to either side of yours and then he’s groaning, erection rutting against your thigh, trapped in his trousers.

“Harder,” he whispers, and for a second you’re not sure whether he means you to use your mouth or the hand in his hair, but a twitch of your wrist answers that question. His mouth falls open and you have to release his neck so you can lean back and take in the sight. It’s—It’s intoxicating, seeing how much you affect him. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen someone so eager for you, and then his eyes open, wonderfully dark underneath those pale lashes and arousal grows so strong in you that the ache of it is painful.

“What do you want?” You ask, voice low as his eyes trace your lips. You have to ask, because you’re not sure what you want, if you want to feel his mouth again, or use your mouth on him, or maybe-

“Everything,” he whispers, because it’s the truth, and that’s all that matters to him.

You huff out a laugh, knowing you probably look punch-drunk off of his kisses, off of touching him at all. “Merrick, as wonderful as that sounds, we’re going to have to narrow things down.”

He barely looks sheepish, though you catch his eyes darting to your bag near the side of the bed.

“I packed… Things?” He says, and his tone is so unsure that you want to pat his cheek.

“I could have sworn I looked through that bag,” you mutter, fighting a smile, but Merrick sits up on your thighs and you let him go. He looks, well—He already has sex hair, with the way you’ve been yanking at it, and neither of you have actually gotten there. Gar is going to have a field day when he comes back.

“Did you check the side pocket?” Merrick asks, and he leans over the edge of the bed, pants riding low on his hips and exposing the dimple on his lower back. He tugs at the zipper, fumbling about and comes up with lube and condoms, and a handful of other things you’d kept in your bedside drawer.

“Are all faeries this prepared?” You tease, smiling widely when he rolls his eyes. “Or am I just terribly lucky?”

He doesn’t respond, just hops off of you—and you can feel the difference now, as it’s cold without him—and pulls off his clothes like he has no sense of modesty. It’s always a rush, seeing him bare this way. The tattoos of his wings are still impressive, catching your eye and drawing your gaze over his shoulder and bicep as he turns to face you fully, but then your eyes lower and your breath quickens.

“I can’t get enough of this,” Merrick murmurs and he looks so damned earnest, sitting down next to you on the bed and leaning over you so he can brace himself up on his forearms. “The way you look at me. For so long I thought I was imagining things-” And you do laugh when he says that.

“You thought you were?” You ask, reaching up to trace a fingertip over his cheekbone and down his jaw. “At first, I thought I had a chance, but then we were friends and... Honestly, I was sure you didn’t like anyone. I watched you reject person after person and was convinced that I’d only ever fooled myself. The other day when you joked about sharing a bed? I thought—”

Merrick frowns. “I was trying to be sly,” he murmurs, wincing when you raise an eyebrow.

“It came across as a joke, after the way I’ve seen you talk to other people.”

“I didn’t mean it like-”

“I know,” you hasten to say, slipping your arms around him and tugging at his shoulders, wanting him closer. “I know that now,” you correct, pleased when he’s nose to nose with you. “But I didn’t then. That’s why I grabbed your hat and reacted like I did. Every time you said something even remotely similar, I convinced myself that I was only hearing what I wanted to hear. I was only hearing what I thought about when you weren’t around.”

“You fantasized about me?” Merrick asks, and he sounds entirely too gleeful about that.

“...Did you fantasize about me?” You shoot back, knowing it will likely shut him up.

“Yes,” he says instead, completely surprising you. “I… I felt like I shouldn’t have, but I kept thinking about the way you talked to me and I was lonely and—It was more than once,” he blurts with a sigh, and he looks like he hates the fact that he has to tell the truth.

You just grin at him, feeling ridiculous, until Merrick shakes his head, and gets back to kissing you. Apparently he’s decided the time for talk is over. Or at least, talking about this subject is over. His kisses trail down your neck though, which you suppose means he’s decided on what he wants, and you can’t really complain.

He uses tongue and teeth as he moves down your body, hands kneading gently at your thighs, stroking with fingertips and pressing with his thumbs. He lingers at your hip for a moment, sucking kisses into the skin there that you know are going to ache later, and then his hand is on you.

He definitely remembers everything he’d learned back at your place. He knows how to stroke, how much pressure to use, how to curl his fingers just so, and your thighs are starting to tense and his mouth isn’t even on you yet.

“Merrick,” you murmur, clutching at the blankets under your hands. You want to watch him, want to see his pink tongue lick—but you’re mildly distracted by that glow of his, shimmering softly over the walls. The light is on in the room, ceiling fixture bright, but there’s movement to the light on the walls that matches the rolling of his shoulders and the arch of his back.

His mouth closes over you, tongue flicking.

“Fuck,” you say immediately, tensing when he pauses, waiting for you to relax under his touch. He doesn’t use his teeth here, that’s for sure. There’s just his tongue at first, hot and wet, and his breath, soft against your bare skin. Then Merrick sucks until his cheeks have hollowed out, fingers curling just right and you have to bite your bottom lip, using the pain of your own teeth in your flesh to try and keep yourself from thrusting your hips up into his face.

He pulls off of you with a wet pop, leaving you whimpering and can’t help the little smirk he directs your way before he speaks. “You don’t have to be gentle with me,” he tells you, smirk growing a little wider. “You’ve seen some of what we can do. You can let go,” he assures you, hand still working you over, tongue sliding over his lips, like he’s chasing the taste of you on his own skin.

“Sure,” you say shakily, and then your eyes are nearly rolling into the back of your head as his mouth closes over you again. You’re fairly certain he’s doing it just to leave you breathless, to leave you speechless. “I’ll just—just go to town,” you mutter, rolling your hips, but only just. “You could probably, uh, could just pick me-”

Merrick stops using his hand on you, hooks his arms underneath your legs and lifts your hips as he kneels on the bed. He curls his arms around you to hold you in place, legs hanging over his shoulders, and rolls his tongue over you before he starts sucking again, making soft noises that are driving you crazy.

“Oh, oh, fuck, you’re going to-” Your hands are totally tangled in the blankets now, having dragged them with you as he lifted you partially off the bed. You’re going to lose it if he keeps up with this, blood rushing towards your head, leaving your face feeling hot and your thighs shaking against his ears.

You shout as you come, trying to arch your back, to get closer to his mouth and pull away from it, all at once, but Merrick is holding you too tightly. After a moment it gets to be too much and you’re gasping, panting and reaching out to try and slap at his knee, though you can’t quite reach. “Enough,” you say once, and Merrick slows, but he doesn’t pull his mouth off of you until you wail the word. For a second you think he’ll just drop your overstimulated self back to the bed, but Merrick is more careful than that. He lowers you down, revealing his messy face and heavy lidded eyes. His cock slides over your most sensitive parts as he sets your ass in his lap and carefully takes your legs off of his shoulders. Your calves feel like they won’t hold you up for a week.

“I’m going to die,” you say, all dramatics, and then Merrick is chuckling, wiping at his lips.

“I hardly think you will,” he says, confident in his words. “But if it was too much, I have no problem ceasing while we’re ahead. Soon enough, Gar will be back and...” He licks his lips again, frowning slightly as something occurs to him. “Did I glow, like Gar said earlier?” You can’t help laughing, but that only makes you move against him, leaving the both of you making soft, shocked noises.

“Would you—would you like to find out?” You ask, breathless when he presses himself between your legs.

Merrick hesitates, nearly frowning for a moment before he settles on an easy, slightly awkward grin.

“It’s a bit of a toss up,” he explains, eyes tracing you from head to toe. He lingers on the spots he’s kissed, on the way your mouth is parted, breath still coming heavy, like it’s being drawn up from the absolute depths of your lungs. “I want to do the things that could potentially lead to me glowing.” He can’t seem to stop himself from rolling his hips, from rutting in between your thighs and leaving himself trembling at the touch. “But do I want to know if I’m actually making a fool of myself?”

“Making a fool of yourself?” You repeat, laughing. “Is that what happens when faeries glow during sex? They’re considered fools?”

“Maybe not fools,” he amends, looking a little awkward as he tucks a few stray curls behind his pointed ears. “But… Horribly transparent. You can see how much you affect me, and leaving our emotions laid bare?”

That you can understand. Granted, you don’t think you’ll ever mind the fact that he shows just how much he wants you. That he’s incapable of hiding how he feels when you touch him. You desperately want to kiss him again, to return the gesture. You might not be able to glow, but you’re fairly certain anyone looking at you can see how you feel—especially now that you’ve both laid it all out in the open.

“Come here,” you urge, crooking a single finger.

He pauses, dark eyes darting between you and himself, and you see the thought cross his mind. He could try and press inside you, he wants it, but—Merrick leans over you, arm stretching until he’s braced himself next to your shoulder, as close as he can get without being inside you. His hair falls back into his face.

“Kiss me,” you say, stroking your hands along his sides and up and over his shoulders. You have to concentrate, keep yourself from getting distracted when the pads of your fingertips catch on the wing tattoos. They have such texture, and one day you’d love to trace those lines with your tongue, if he’ll let you.

Merrick falls back into kissing you like he’s never left. Tilts his head and slots his mouth along your lips, soft at first and then his tongue finds yours, sweet and warm. He starts grinding against you, making you shudder underneath him because you’re still oversensitive. You’re not sure you have the energy in you for more than lying here, for hooking your ankles behind his back as he works himself to completion inside you, but just the thought of that has your pulse speeding again.

When he pulls away from the kiss to breathe, you reach up to try and adjust his hair, tucking the curls back once more, but you don’t actually succeed in anything other than making it look messier.

“Lube,” you remind him, when he seems plenty content to simply stare at your face, blinking slowly. He jumps at that, snatching at the pile of things he’d left on the bed when he’d stripped off his clothes and shakes his head once he has the bottle open, tilted over to spill the gel into his palm.

“So you want to witness my shame?” He asks archly, and that tone of his is all an act. You wonder how many times you fell for it, how many times he said exactly what you were thinking and you wrote it off, purely because of his tone and-

No. There’s no need to dwell on it, not now.

“I have witnessed it,” you say instead, breathing out slowly as you reach for his hand. You slide your fingers through the lube and then reach down to prep yourself, watching his face all the while.

Merrick looks gutted. He swallows, eyes intent on your hand, on your fingers, stroking and pressing into you and he snaps the lube bottle closed. He tosses it over the edge of the bed, pressing himself close again so your hand brushes against him every time your fingers move.

“At some point,” he says hoarsely, and your eyes get caught on the gel starting to drip over the edges of his hands. “I would like to watch this. Just this, but—” He glances at you, gauging your reaction and joins in. You’re shaking again, watching his face, feeling his fingers move in tandem with yours, but the feeling is a lot and eventually you let him take over. Merrick breathes out when you pull your hand away, eyes flicking up to meet yours, and licks his lips. “We’re on a bit of a deadline,” he murmurs, looking just a slight bit disappointed by that fact.

“Then hurry up,” you tease him, though it’s a little hard when he’s touching you this way. When he’s making your thighs tremble all over again. “I want you at least once before we get interrupted.” Before Gar gets back, before you have to crash for the night because you’re exhausted, before—Before you have to get up tomorrow, and possibly get back on the road to who knows where. This would be the absolute worst time for Roran to find us, crosses your mind and your heart speeds for all the wrong reasons.

“Noted,” Merrick says, breaking through your thoughts with a smug smile as he removes his fingers. The first stroke of him against you has you clenching your hands in the blankets again. Just the wet slide of his cock against you is enough: lust sweeps over you in a tidal wave, your thighs shifting like they’re trying to spread, even though they’re open already.

When he takes himself in hand though, when he finally presses into you? You lose a few moments, just enjoying the heat of him, the feeling of fullness.

Then he’s glowing.

There’s no hiding it from him this time. His eyes aren’t closed, and his face isn’t pressed into your neck, or your body, intent on bringing you pleasure first. Merrick blinks when the glow is cast on the walls. It’s not enough to blaze through the window and the closed blinds, but he sees it now, and his face turns an absolutely lovely shade of pink.

He doesn’t stop his movements, or try to stop himself from glowing. He takes a couple quick breaths and thrusts into you, gasping when you tighten around him reflexively.

Merrick doesn’t do things by halves. He doesn’t rush you, doesn’t pound into you, chasing after his own pleasure, he builds it between you. It takes long enough that when you realize time has passed, you’re fairly sure that Gar must have returned, but—But Merrick’s hands are sliding over your body and his hips are pressed against the back of your thighs, and you don’t have time to think.

He whispers your name and his eyes are so heavy lidded, he looks like he could fall asleep where he is. You think the only reason his eyes are even open is to watch you, to see the look on your face every time he pulls back, only to slide back in, leaving you languid and terribly warm. You’re going to ache tomorrow.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, you see that Merrick is clenching his jaw, trying to keep the slow rhythm he’s got going, but his hips are stuttering. You tug him close, angling your legs until they’re tight against his ass and he groans, being so deep inside you.

“I want you,” you murmur. “Merrick, I-” But then he’s nearly shouting as he comes, burying his face in your shoulder as he shakes apart and you can hear the front door closing. Merrick doesn’t bother trying to quiet himself, just pants against you until he’s finished, until he can sit up on his own. The smile he directs your way is mildly embarrassed, but mostly smug, especially when his pulling out leaves your legs shaking.

“Have you decided yet?” You hear from the main room of the cabin, followed by bags being set on the small kitchen counter.

You raise your eyebrows, wondering what exactly Gar means. Merrick’s shoulders tense up a little though, and you think back to what was happening before the two of you started this much needed romp in the sheets.

“...What does he mean?” You finally ask, sitting up slowly and glancing around the room. You’re going to need to clean up, and never have you wished more that Faerie glamour or magic came with a quick spell for messes. A quick snap of your fingers or the wiggle of a nose would be quiet and unobtrusive right now.

“Give us a moment,” Merrick calls out and gets off of the bed with a sigh. “I’ll—Let me help you, first,” he says, focusing on you after a moment. “Once we’re both clean we can discuss it.”

Gar gives you both the asked for privacy. He retreats to the other empty room so you and Merrick can dart into the shower. It’s barely big enough for the both of you, but the water is hot, and the pressure isn’t horrible. Once you’re both cleaned up and clothed, all three of you find yourselves back in the main room, sitting around the small pot belly stove, a fire crackling inside of it.

“So?” You find yourself asking, when neither of them make a move to fill the silence. “What are we deciding?”

“Not we,” Gar says, lips twisting wryly. “Just Merrick.”

“What is Merrick deciding then?” You ask, exasperated with the non-answers. You know you’re going to have to deal with this regularly, now that you know what both of them are, but it’s still irksome.

“I need to decide what I should do about Roran,” Merrick finally murmurs, letting you take his hand when you reach for it. “We always have the option to end his life, but I would rather not,” he says, directing his stare straight at Gar. “I want to convince him.”

Gar stares at Merrick, resigned, like he’d never expected another answer. Maybe he hadn’t. According to Faerie standards, or maybe just Gar’s standards, Merrick is apparently easy to read. “Then you’re going to have to figure out a way to draw him in that doesn’t involve cutting my head from my shoulders. He won’t be lured in by us just standing around again either. He’s going to be eager to get us apart, to take you hostage, if need be,” Gar reminds you, with a tip of his head in your direction.

“If he finds me first-”

“I’m going to con—” Merrick starts, and then he’s knocked to the floor, with Gar straddling his prone body and holding a shaking hand over his mouth. You’re on your feet with a shout.

“Don’t make promises you’re not sure you can keep,” Gar bites out. Your heart is racing. You didn’t even see him move, he was just—there. “Don’t leave yourself open to even the possibility of lies. You know better, Merrick. You know better. Don’t let sentimentality cloud your decisions.”

“How about we calm down?” You ask, knowing you likely sound a little silly. You know they can’t lie, you know it does something to them, but it’s- You hadn’t quite realized it was all so serious. The lying.

Gar gets off of Merrick and points a finger directly at you, still staring at his friend. “You have someone else to worry about now. Someone who cares, deeply. You don’t know if you’re going to convince Roran. Try, sure. But don’t—” Gar cuts himself off, and takes a deep breath, letting it out very, very slowly.

“I’m not tired,” he says after a moment. “But you two probably are. Get some rest, I’ll stay up and keep watch.”

That, more than anything else in the last hour, feels utterly surreal. Keeping watch is something that happens in fantasy novels, out in the wilderness, waiting for bandits. You don’t keep watch in an Airbnb, in modern times, waiting to see if a lonely Fae assassin shows up on the doorstep.

“That’s a good idea,” Merrick murmurs, and lets you pull him up to his feet. He still clasps his hand on Gar’s shoulder as he passes, like he doesn’t mind in the slightest that Gar just knocked him to the ground with nary a thought. They’d been close to the fire too, and worry makes the scene play out differently in your head. If Gar had taken one more step forward- You can’t let yourself get angry or defensive about this. They’re faeries and no matter how long you’ve known them, how much they care, you don’t know everything that’s at stake.

“I’ll come back after I grab a few hours rest,” Merrick promises, and escorts you back into the bedroom you’d both claimed as your own. You want to protest, to say you can take the next watch, but even with the Sight now, you’re not sure you would even have a chance of alerting them if someone like Roran showed up. What you’d witnessed in the square, and what you’d seen just now in the main room spelled it out all too well: Human eyes simply can’t move fast enough.

⊱ ────── .⋅ 🜁 ⋅. ────── ⊰

...turn the page?

#exophilia #faerie boyfriend #fae boyfriend #faerie x reader #fairy boyfriend #male faerie x reader #d.darling writes

64 notes · View notes

elvish-sky · 3 years

Text

A Love Forged by Knives

A.N: Ok, so this is kinda my first ever fanfiction and I'm really excited about it! I had so much fun writing and hopefully, I'll be able to write more soon.

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Word Count: 1660

Summary: Y/N gets hurt in an orc attack and Legolas has to take care of her.

Warnings: Some fluff, blood/wounds/battle, a little angst.

****

A Love Forged by Knives

When you had joined the fellowship, you hadn't expected there to be quite this much running. Sure, at first it had been just walking, admittedly lots of it, but walking was fine. Now, though, with the eagerness to get to the mountains, Gandalf was setting a hard pace. Aragorn and Legolas were easily matching Gandalf, even foraging ahead for a while, and Boromir would have done the same had he not been looking after the hobbits, all four of whom were struggling but still keeping up. However, you were not having quite as easy a time. Thankfully, you weren't the only one having trouble with the faster pace.

Poor Gimli was huffing and puffing, weighed down by all his armor and unable to match even your slow pace because of his size. There had been a lot of checking on him to make sure he was keeping up over the past few days, and on the rare occasion he passed you, he returned the favor.

While you were looking back at Gimli to make sure he was ok, you heard a shout that sounded like an orc. You spun around to see the rest of the fellowship under attack. Gandalf was whacking one with his staff while slicing another with his sword. Aragorn and Boromir had quickly drawn their swords and were dispatching orcs with apparent ease, while the hobbit stabbed with their small weapons, taking orcs by surprise. Legolas was interchangeably using his bow or daggers to fight and looked like a small, contained hurricane of death.

While you were taking this in, Gimli had caught up, and the two of you jumped into the fight, him with his axe and you with your two hunting knives.

As you whirled around, stabbing and slicing and blocking with your two knives, you heard a cry. You spun around and saw Legolas on the ground, with an orc looming above him. You watched as the orc brought his axe up, ready to bring it down and end your friend's life, but at the last second Legolas whipped out a small dagger from his boot, sprung up, and sliced the orc's throat.

You sighed in relief, and as you did you felt a sharp pain in your leg. An orc had snuck up behind you and slashed at you while you were distracted. You managed to stab and kill him, but then your leg gave out and you collapsed.

"Y/N!"

A shout came from Aragorn as he saw you collapse, and he made his way over to you, having just killed the last orc. Everyone else's attention was drawn by his shout, and Legolas rushed over, pushing Aragorn aside to get a closer look at your wound. It was deep and long, running half the length of your thigh, and you were bleeding profusely.

Legolas examined it, and after he had poked and prodded until you had to bite your tongue to keep from crying out, he said, "Y/N, this needs to be taken care of but we can't do anything until we camp for the night. It looks pretty bad. Do you want me or Aragorn to carry you until we can find a spot to camp?"

"No," you said, "I can walk."

You tried to stand up to prove your point but the second you put weight on the leg you hissed with pain. You stubbornly kept trying to walk, managing to make it about four feet until your leg crumpled beneath you.

Aragorn caught you and wrapped a piece of cloth around your leg to stop the blood, while saying, "I think it's best if someone carries you. We'll camp soon."

Aragorn swept you up into his arms but was quickly accosted by Legolas, who whispered something you couldn't hear. With a smirk, he handed you off to Legolas, who held you gently as if he didn't want to cause you any more pain. You placed your head on his chest and drifted into unconsciousness.

As you fell asleep, you didn't hear him whisper "Sleep well, melleth nîn(my love)."

Later, you awoke as even Aragorn was growing weary looking for a good spot to camp, Gandalf called back to Legolas to hurry up, and you wondered why you were so far behind the rest of the group. Unbeknownst to you, Legolas had been so worried about you that he had slowed his pace to make sure he could walk with the utmost care, so as not to disturb you.

Finally, Aragorn called out "I've found a camping spot!"

Everyone went over to him as he parted the branches to reveal a small glade, perfect for the night. Sam quickly got a fire going and began making stew while the others gathered around and Aragorn and Boromir set up all the sleeping rolls. Legolas gently placed you on yours and began unwrapping the cloth over your wound.

You both gasped as it was uncovered, as somehow it looked worse than it had earlier. he quickly made a dressing and placed it on the gash, while also doing something that you thought looked suspicious with a needle.

"I'm terribly sorry Y/N, but this wound is too severe to leave open. I'm going to have to give you stitches."

"What?" you exclaimed. "Legolas, no. I'm fine. I don't need you to sew me up like a doll."

He ignored you and asked Merry and Pippin to come over to hold your hands, and possibly restrain you from moving while he stitched. As he sewed, he told stories of other adventures he'd had over his long life, and you, Merry, and Pippin listed raptly. The tales he told were so amazing that they made you forget about the pain, and you drifted off to sleep once he had finished the stitches and placed another poultice on.

You opened your eyes to see a pitch-black forest surrounding the small glade, and a shape silhouetted by the fire. You could tell it was the elf by the shape of his ears. You made to rise and walk over to him, but you hissed as pain shot through your leg. Legolas was up in a flash, striding towards you with an expression of worry on his face.

"Y/N? Is everything ok?"

"It's fine," you replied, "I'm just cold, and my leg hurts."

"I'm sorry," said the elf. "Sip this."

"What is it?" you replied.

"It's an elvish sleeping drought. It should take away the pain and help you rest."

"Thank you," you said, and you took a sip and felt the pain begin to leave your body.

You began to fall asleep, but through the haze of drowsiness you felt Legolas kiss your forehead and heard him say "Sleep well, melleth nîn." This time, however, you heard him say it.

You sat up, your sleepiness gone. "What did you say?" you asked the elf, who was blushing like mad.

"Uhmm... nothing. Why?" he replied.

"Oh no, don't you weasel your way out. You called me 'my love'."

You could see his face wince with the words, and then harden into resolve.

"Ok, Y/N. I have been putting this off because I was never quite sure how you were going to react, but you've caught me so I guess I must tell you. I'm in love with you."

You gasped, heat rushing to your face as he continued.

"I've loved you ever since you sent that knife whizzing between Aragorn and Boromir's heads that one night."

Your mind flashed back to a night just after they had left Rivendell when they were all gathered around a fire. Aragorn and Boromir had been boasting about their skill with throwing knives and had challenged each member of the fellowship to a contest. Legolas had, of course, beat them both. Gimli had tied with Boromir and lost to Aragorn, and Gandalf declined to participate. Merry and Pippin both failed miserably, Frodo had been ok, and Sam had shockingly done pretty well. It was only after everyone else had gone that Aragorn and Boromir had begun to tease you. After a while, fed up with it, you decided to show them your skills. You had them stand side by side against a tree, and proceeded to gather the knives of everyone in the fellowship. Then, in about sixty seconds, you made a row of knives in between them, with the last on landing in between their heads. They both looked shocked, and the rest of the fellowship had broken out into applause.

Legolas' cough drew you back to the present, and you listened as he continued. "I don't think I've ever felt as scared as I did today when you fell. I'm going to do everything I can to help you heal, but if you don't want me here then I'll leave at dawn. I'll do anything for you."

"Oh Legolas," you whispered, "I don't need anything. I only need you. I love you, too."

He looked back down at you and slowly sat next to you. "Are you sure?"

"Of course."

He made as if to get up and go to his bedroll, but you grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

"Will you stay with me?"

"Yes."

He lay down next to you and wrapped an arm around your waist, careful not to move your leg.

As you both got drowsy, you whispered "Sleep well melleth nîn."

He whispered back "Gi mellin (i love you)," and you both drifted to sleep.

When you woke in the morning, the sun was out, the birds were chirping, and Legolas' soft breathing filled your ears. You sat up to see the rest of the fellowship looking and you and Legolas and silently each handing a few coins to Gandalf and Aragorn.

Legolas awoke, and, seeing the same scene as you, proceeded to yell out "Did every one of you bet against me except Gandalf and Aragorn?!"

#legolas #legolas x reader #legolas x y/n #legolas fanfic #legolas fanfiction #legolas imagines #legolas imagine #lord of the rings #lotr #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction

267 notes · View notes

fandoms-are-my-friends-1321 · 3 years

Text

Flirting, My Dear Watson

This was requested by @jiejie-eonni-onee-sama, and it is literally so freaking great!!! I can’t wait to see how this plays out while I’m writing it. As always gif and characters are not mine. Hope you enjoy this!

Description: Y/N is a profiler for Scotland Yard, and they captured Sherlock’s attention right away. Sherlock’s friends suggest that he should try and flirt with Y/N, but his attempts don’t go as planned

Warnings: mild cursing, mentions of blood/a crime scene, otherwise none

Sherlock knelt down beside the victim. He was examining any and every clue that he could find. The victim was placed gently on a park bench, and from far away it seemed as if they were still alive. However, the trail of dried blood that came from a gaping slash in the victim’s neck said otherwise. Sherlock knew in an instant what happened.

“Well,” Sherlock started as he stood up and straightened his coat, “it’s obvious what happened here. The-,”

“The victim was killed by someone close to him. Perhaps a lover or an ex. The way the victim was precisely placed to seem like they are still alive shows that the killer cared for the victim, but by the violent slashing seen in the neck wound, it would be more likely that our killer is a jealous ex who wanted to keep this person to themselves.”

Sherlock turned around, and a woman was standing a few feet away from the body. Their H/C hair flowed in the afternoon breeze, and they held a cup of coffee in their right hand. Sherlock had never seen this woman before, but he was automatically interested as to how she managed to figure out who the killer was.

“Your assumption is spot on. I don’t believe we have met before though,” Sherlock said as he tried to analyze the woman in front of him.

“Oh, my names Y/N. I’m a profiler. I was just hired recently at Scotland Yard, and this is my very first case. However, I must say it was fairly easy compared to some of the stuff I’ve studied.”

“I can tell you graduated from Oxford. Top of your class judging by the pin you have attached to your jacket. Why would you settle for a low job like this?”

“Because, I needed the job and they were hiring. Funny, I thought the famous Sherlock Holmes would have been able to figure that out.”

Sherlock simply stood with his mouth open. He never expected so much sass to come from a woman who appeared to be more of an introvert. Y/N quickly took some samples from the body, and left as fast as she appeared. She turned around and smiled at the consulting detective. “I hope to see you again soon, Mr. Holmes.”

The detective simply nodded as Y/N climbed into her vehicle. John walked up beside Sherlock and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “I never thought I would see the day when the Sherlock Holmes was left dumbfounded by someone else. You could have at least asked for her number.”

“Why would I do that,” Sherlock asked as his brows furrowed slightly.

“It’s obvious that you like Y/N. I felt the same way when I saw Mary for the first time. Perhaps you can try flirting with Y/N the next time you see her.”

“I will do nothing of the sort. I don’t feel anything towards her. I’m just glad that for once I’m not surrounded by idiots for a change.”

John simply shook his head. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

——————————————————————————

The next time Y/N and Sherlock met, it was at a second crime scene. Everyone knew at this point that Sherlock was head over heels for her, as much as Sherlock could be that is. Everyone agreed that it would be best to try and hook Y/N and Sherlock up.

“Ah, I see that you brought some coffee with you again today,” Lestrade commented. “Sherlock here likes coffee too. Maybe you two could go to the cafe downtown sometime.”

Sherlock glared at Lestrade. “I don’t like coffee. I only drink tea.”

Lestrade simply rolled his eyes, and Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at the two men. “Shall we examine the body Mr. Holmes?”

“Of course, Mrs. L/N.”

As they were examine the body, Sherlock stole glances at Y/N. He knew it was illogical and that this was simply his body’s way of reacting to an attractive female, but he just couldn’t help it. The determination in Y/N’s eyes said it all for him.

“This crime is an interesting one don’t you think,” Y/N said as they turned their head towards Sherlock.

“Yes it is, almost as interesting as you are,” Sherlock quickly replied.

“Did you just compare this beautiful young woman to a corpse?”

The profiler and the detective both turned around to see a man standing behind him. Y/N could tell that he looked quite stressed, and had to be higher up in society. Sherlock simply rolled his eyes at the man, but that didn’t stop him from continuing. “Honestly, Sherlock, has all of this time alone ruined your flirting skills that badly?”

“No, they haven’t. Now if you would please leave us to our business, Mycroft, that would be lovely.” Sherlock smiled up at his brother, and Mycroft simply shook his head as he went back to talk with Lestrade.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the spectacle. “He’s quite the character.”

“To put it quite mildly, yes he is. I wish my brother wouldn’t interrupt my work though. I mean, our work of course,” Sherlock said as he stood up.

Y/N couldn’t believe what she just heard. Sherlock Holmes once again did something out of the ordinary when he was around here. Y/N knew the whole time what was going on with Sherlock, but they wanted to play things out a little bit longer. “Say, would it be alright if we go back to your place to study over the evidence? It’s cold out here, and I focus better when I’m warmer.” This of course was a total lie. Sherlock knew this as well, but he thought that it would be a good chance to finally get things right.

“Of course, my address is 221B Baker Street. John and my landlady Mrs. Hudson will be there, but I’m sure they won’t disturb us,” Sherlock replied as he handed Y/N a slip of paper that had the address scribbled on it. “Come at once if convenient. If inconvenient, come anyway.”

——————————————————————————

Y/N entered the door of the flat, and Mrs. Hudson was ready to greet her. “Y/N! It’s so nice to finally meet you! It’s so rare that Sherlock brings home such a beautiful woman.”

“She’s simply a comrade, Mrs. Hudson,” Sherlock shouted from the top of the stairs.

Mrs. Hudson simply rolled her eyes. “He may be the smartest detective in London, but he’s not very smart when it comes to love.” Y/N laughed at the comment before walking up the stairs. Y/N found Sherlock sitting in the middle of the floor, a mannequin laying a few paces in front of him.

“So, do you always have mannequins lying around the house? Or is this something special for me,” Y/N said with a smirk.

“I figured we could do some experiments to figure more about the killer and his motives,” Sherlock commented as he got up from the floor. Once again, Sherlock already knew the killer’s motives, and so did Y/N, but this game was to much fun to stop so soon.

Mrs. Hudson entered carrying a tray with tea and biscuits resting on the silver surface. “I’m not sure that rehearsing a murder works as a proper first date. You should have taken her out to a nice restaurant or a little tea shop.”

Sherlock smiled at his landlady. “Why would I take her out for tea when we have you to bring us some?”

“For the last time, I’m your landlady. Not your maid!”

After Mrs. Hudson had left, Sherlock and Y/N began their work to replicate the crime scene. As they were going through the steps, Y/N’s hand brushed against Sherlock’s. Both of them tensed a little, but not before sending a gentle smile to each other to show that it was alright.

“Would you two just get a room already?”

John was standing in the doorway now, bags of groceries in his grasp. He had enough of seeing the two most intelligent people he knew beat around the bush. Sherlock glanced at his roommate. “Well, I have been flirting with her, John.”

“Well, I hate to say it, but your flirting is terrible. The best detective in London should be able to know when his methods aren’t working.”

It was Y/N’s turn to comment. “Oh no, they were working. Sure it was indeed terrible, but it was to amusing to tell him to stop.”

Sherlock smirked at the woman. “And I knew that you knew that I knew.”

“Of course you did,” Y/N replied. “So, how about we go down town for dinner tomorrow at six?”

“That sounds perfect.”

John let out a sigh of both relief and annoyance. “Bloody hell you two are something.”

John was right of course, Sherlock and Y/N were something. Some would think that a relationship like there’s wouldn’t work, or that Sherlock’s ego would get in the way, but it was both the flaws and skills that drew these two individuals together. And no matter how much their love grew, they would always remember their first meeting at a crime scene, and the horrendous flirting that followed.

#sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes #bbc sherlock #x reader #benedict cumberbatch #john watson #greg lestrade #mycroft holmes #mrs. hudson #martin freeman #fanfic #fluff

154 notes · View notes

mqgriett · 3 years

Text

Paring: Tech x Fem!Reader

Warning: light smut and a little blood

Summary: of course things would go wrong right when you were so close to having him

Notes: this is a part 2 to “Princess” please read that before going into this one! also EEK I haven't posted in a while!! I have spring break next week and then online learning the week after so I should be able to upload more frequently!! Stay safe everyone please!

Oh stars this felt perfect. The feeling of his soft lips on yours, the way he gently tugged at the waist of your dress, his cologne, everything. When he finally pulled back you felt drunk with lust, the small residue of your lipstick on his lips only making it worse. Without your heels on you were reminded of how short you were next to him, your height diminishing by at least three or four inches.

Tech subconsciously bit his bottom lip, subtly looking down the top of your new dress. His hands were still placed just above your ass, an animalistic feeling cascading onto him as he locked eyes with you. He kissed you again, less sweet this time, and practically dominated your mouth with his own. The few times you pulled back for a bit of air, he would suck the tender flesh of your neck and whisper things that had flooded his mind for far too long.

“I’ve waited so- so long to do this.” He whimpered pathetically, cursing himself for how small his voice was in the moment.

It drove you mad how timid, yet rough, he was right now. You could hardly stand it, and the mere thought of him being this helpless when you were only kissing made your mind wander to the most sinful places.

You gently pushed him backwards, hands trailing down his collar bone to unbutton his black jacket. His breath staggered, fingers desperately trying to find the bottom of your silk gown as you continued to walk forward.

The backs of his knees hit the side of your bed, causing him to fall onto his back. You didn’t hesitate to immediately crawl on top of him, sitting directly where you knew he would feel it most. Tech let out a pitiful moan and threw his head back, back arching at only the feeling of your heat on his clothed hard.

You started at unbuttoning his shirt, your fingers shaking from pure excitement. He grew tired of waiting, that animalistic urge making its way back down his body. Grabbing the opened section of his shirt, he basically ripped the last three buttons off. You hummed in delight as he sat up and held the small of your back to ensure you wouldn’t fall.

All it took was one slow and hard grind of your hips for him to hopelessly whine, “take it off, please for maker’s sake take it off.” He groaned the last word, his hand pawing at your clothed ass.

Knees still on either side of him, you sat up and held your dress with the opposite arms. It was halfway up your torso when a ringing went off in Tech’s ear.

Hunter’s voice brought him down from his lust-drunken state, “Main floor’s been breached! Tech where are you?”

Tech raised a finger to his ear, pressing down to reply, “third floor, in the room. She’s still getting, Uh-“ He looked down at your bare thighs, “getting dressed.”

He heard a few shots echo from Hunter’s line of the comm, “Tech you got klankers heading up to you from the south stairs, get her outta here before Kraken finds her first.”

“Copy that Sarg.” Tech said sternly.

He selfishly took one last look at you on top of him before gently pushing you off in a hurried manner. “Main floor has been breached by a droid squad. Got a few heading up here, we need to go. Where’s the closest exit?” He asked, buttoning up his shirt where he could.

“The gardens, there’s a secret stairway that leads down from the balcony.” You replied swiftly, opening your bedside drawer and lifting up a tube of lipstick. The action unlocked the cabinet underneath the drawer, allowing you to type in correct code into the beskar safe.

The robotic clanking of droids making their way up the stairs could be heard through the wall, which was not a good sign considering the walls were thicker than those of the Jedi temple; meaning, there were at least a hundred of those robots.

“Hurry.” Tech stated quickly. You snatched your weapon from the safe and ran past him, grabbing his wrist tightly in the process.

As soon as you two were in the hallway, the droids had successfully managed to get through the locked doors. Tech fired a few shots at the front ones, not noticing that there were B2 droids behind the B1s.

You spun around just in time, the red plasma bullet hitting the bright blue blade of your lightsaber. It deflected it, firing back at the B2 and hitting him in the center of the chest.

“Go!” You shouted, blocking a few other shots from hitting him. You held the lightsaber in a backwards grip, swaying it from side to side to keep a steady momentum going.

Your bare feet smacked against the cold marble floor, making you slide almost every time you turned a corner. Even through the chaos, you found a moment to share a smile with Tech.

“This a little more familiar?” He heaved, both pistols waving in the air as he sprinted. The top of his shirt was still open, his hair a pure mess. If you weren’t on the brink of being kidnapped and/or killed, you would’ve thought he was hot.

Taking the final turn, you busted through the doors to the large balcony garden. The cold wind made your shoulders shiver, your braided hair falling loose. You made a beeline for the control panel, slamming your shoulder into it after it refused to open. It sliced your skin open, a small line of blood beginning to trickle down your arm. The staircase began to appear from the wall, each stair seemingly growing from the castle’s exterior.

Then it stopped.

A gunship full of B1s landed on the opposite side of the doorway, Kraken walked out behind them. Your shoulder had its own heartbeat, an indescribable pain shooting out your neck.

Tech pressed his fingers to his ear, “Sarg, we could use a little backup.”

Blasts from the other end is all he heard for a moment, “we got our own problems here, Tech.”

Dank Farrik, it was truly just the two of you now.

The battle droids started their first wave, Tech and you with your backs pressed together. A few BXs leaped from behind, landing strategically in front of you two.

One Of them lunged for you, latching onto your ankles and pulling you to the ground with a swift hit. You yelped, your shoulders hitting against the stone floor with an indescribable amount of force.

That same BX reached for your knees, starting to drag you towards the gun ship. You writhed and kicked, nailing it in the center of the head; as it went soaring to the ground, so did the bottom of your gorgeous dress. It left a long tear from your right knee all the way up to just below your left hip.

A string of cuss words left your mouth, your lightsaber blade hissing back out of the hilt as you cut the legs off of a few B1s reaching for you.

Tech lifted you up from under your armpits, immediately returning to battle afterwards. He fired straight for the heads of the droids, the two of you back to back as you destroyed each robot coming near you.

“Do you remember that mission on Felucia?” Tech heaved, “the one where that ancient tribe thought the yellow B1 droid was their leader?”

You slashed the heads off of the three enemies closest to you, your shoulder beginning to ache more with every swing. “Now’s not the best time to be all sentimental.”

“Think about that mission. What we did that day, you and I!” He shouted, the circle of droids tightening with every passing second.

You quickly scanned your memory, finally realizing what he was insinuating. Turning to face his back, you cleared enough room to get a running start. Tech ducked, just low enough for you to jump off of his back. As you soared through the air you spun around, reaching your hand out and carrying Tech through the atmosphere with the Force.

You landed smack down on your ass, the wind being knocked out of you while Tech landed with ease on the ground.

The droids turned back around, looking straight at your new location and positioning to attack again.

Just when all hope seemed lost, a 212 gunship landed behind the enemy's line, a plethora of troopers filling out and blasting the remaining separatist dummies.

You sighed of relief, your entire body seemingly having its own heartbeat. “I haven’t... done that,” heave, “done that much since we were last together.”

Tech helped you up again, snaking an arm around your waist after seeing the damage done to your right leg. That BX droid must have scratched through your skin while ripping your dress, a thin trail of blood trickling down your thigh.

“We need to get you to the ship.” He said lowly, “between both those cuts you could bleed out.”

You shook your head, “you know that they need help in the main room. You know that.” Your words were sharp and painful to huff out.

“You are my only priority right now.” He countered, bending down to scoop you up under your knees.

Pushing him backwards, you took in a deep breath, “We’re going back down to the ballroom. That’s an order.” Your bottom lip quivered, the aftershock of the plasma hitting your leg finally catching up.

Although he meant it in a much calmer way, his next sentence was tinted with something more sinister, “you’re not my Commander anymore. You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore.”

“Tech. We are going back to that ball room!” You turned and made your way towards the doors.

He grabbed your uninjured arm, “I can’t let you bleed out and die right in front of me. We need to get to the Marauder.”

Internally, he knew how stubborn you were, and that you would go by yourself if needed. The look you had confirmed his thought, your brows arching and eyes hardening.

“Fine.” He heaved, “fine.”

You nodded, already halfway through the door once he had agreed. The rest of the 212th troopers could handle themselves, but only the maker himself knew what was going on down in the ballroom.

The guests had been evacuated by the majority of the troopers who had previously been in the large room, leaving very few to battle the rest of the klankers still trapped inside.

Of course, Crosshair had somehow managed to smuggle his gun inside. You knew he would, he didn’t go anywhere without it, just as a safety measure. Hunter had resorted to his singular vibroblade while Wrecker only needed his strength to smash the droids together.

As you observed the scene in front of you, Tech tore the sleeve off of his white undershirt and swiftly tied it around your thigh. You raised an eyebrow at him, his face communicating a look of “I had to do something”

You reignited your lightsaber, the sudden pulse against your hand sending vibrations all the way up and down your body. Your weapon stabbed through the stomachs of every droid in your path, this pattern continuing until you reach the rest of the bad batch.

“Just like old times-- Commander.” Hunter smiled, a break in the sentence as he pried his knife out of a droid.

You smirked, gripping the hilt of your saber with both hands, “some things never change, Hunter.”

He returned your devilish grin with his own at the sound of his name, not hesitating another moment before launching his blade across the room.

Within ten minutes of continuous fighting, every droid was broken and dead. Not even a second after, Tech had you in his arms. Your vision was beginning to go a little starry, everything becoming a small blur.

As you zoned in and out of consciousness, you caught snippets of conversations being held. The majority were just Crosshair and Wrecker questioning why Tech’s top few buttons had been ripped off.

Tech set you down on the bench inside the cockpit, immediately barking out a few commands to Hunter for medical supplies. A needle pierced your arm, an echo of Tech’s snapping fingers causing you to slip in and out of your dazed state.

The anesthesia kicked in, your eyes shutting completely. Tech carefully sewed the gash in your arm shut, along with the one in your leg.

“Hunter.” He said softly, not wanting to wake you.

Hunter, knowing what he was on the verge of asking, replied instantly, “I’ll comm into Cody. Let him know what happened. You stay with her.” He tipped his head towards the other two, “both of you with me. Check for anyone else in the room who may have hid.”

Crosshair and Wrecker answered with a nod, following behind the Sargent.

Tech quietly sat next to you, gently lifting you up and setting your head on his lap. He lovingly stroked your hair back, allowing his head to touch the back of the cold bench.

He didn’t even realize that he fell asleep until the other three returned.

Luckily Wrecker had already taken a picture.

#clone trooper tech #clone trooper hunter #clone trooper wrecker #clone trooper crosshair #clone force 99 #bad batch #bad batch x reader #tech x reader #clone trooper echo

129 notes · View notes

supercxrpschild · 3 years

Text

hearts to heal

hi, please read this prior to reading the piece !

so, i wrote this over the last few days. I was not in a good place, and I needed to write something cathartic. I wrote this because I feel so utterly alone and to have not one, but 4 people care so deeply about you, to hold you, to comfort you, take care of you - I crave it more than anything.

there is a trigger warning for self-harm. it is not romanticed, this isn’t a story of giving up. it’s a story of family and hope - but please do be aware that there is scenes depicting it. there is also mentions of OCD, anxiety and depression.

please be kind about this work, as i wasn’t sure whether or not to share it.

Word Count: 2146 (i think my longest yet? it kinda got away from me...)

Alex frowned at the text she just received. It was from your school alerting her that you had not turned up to your first class.

“Something the matter, Director?” Brainy queries, leaning across the desk.

Alex looks up, “hm?”

“Your face has contorted into a displeased expression.”

“Oh, sorry Brainy. It’s all good, it’s just y/n. She didn’t turn up at school.”

Brainy furrows his brows, “That would make it day number 4, wouldn’t it, Director Danvers?”

Alex thought for a minute - he was right. She had been so wrapped up in work that she couldn’t keep track of days. She didn’t realise this was the fourth day within a week that she had been alerted by the High School of your non-attendance. What else hadn’t she noticed?

“Dammit. Brainy, I’ve gotta go. Do you think you could cover for me today? I know we have a lot of stuff going on but-”

“I will be happy to assume your duties for today, Director.” Alex smiles gratefully as she moves to go grab her stuff and head home,

“Thank you Brainy, I owe you.”

Alex rushed to her car, bumping into Kara on the way.

“Alex? Where are you going?”

“Shit, I’m sorry Kara, I forgot about our lunch today.” Kara shook her head and held her sister’s wrist, “Don’t worry about that, what’s up?”

“It’s y/n, she hasn’t been going to school and I just, I’ve been so busy here and we’ve barely even caught each other. I’m going home to check on her, I’m just so worried Kara, what if something’s really wrong and I just never noticed?” Kara moved her hand, so it was now holding Alex’s, trying to ground her some.

“Hey, whatever’s going on, it’ll be okay. You had a lot on this week, with the President visiting and then those alien’s taking hostages downtown. Y/n and you have an understanding for when work becomes like this. It’ll be okay.” Alex nods, rubbing her free hand across her face. “Now go get home to your girl, okay? And call me if you need anything. I’m with Lena tonight, but we can both come if need be.”

Alex thanked her sister again and then drove home, her heart beating out of her chest as she climbed the stairs to both of your apartment.

“Y/n?! Y/n, honey I got a text from the school – they said you weren’t there.” Alex called out as she dropped her bags.

“Y/n?” Alex looked around, everything was off and untouched.

As she walked around the apartment, she ran her hand through her hair, messing it from the slicked back style she had put it in a few hours before.

She walked into your room, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw your curled up in bed asleep. She debated for a moment on whether to wake you up or not, eventually going over and sitting by you, rubbing your arm softly.

“Mom?” you mumbled sleepily,

“Yeah honey.” You blinked the sleep out of your eyes,

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Alex said, her hand now moving the brush the hair from your face.

You shifted uncomfortably. It had been a good week of being able to hide everything from your mom, but it was never going to last forever.

“Y/n?, you wanna tell me why you haven’t been going to school?” You shook your head and tried to snuggle back down into your covers.

Alex moved so you were facing her again after turning away,

“Y/n, I’m so sorry I haven’t been here. But I’m here now and I need you to tell me what’s going on.” Your mom’s gentle hand threaded through your hair, though she chose not to comment on the state of it.

“I’m fine mom.” Alex used her free hand to move your face towards her. Your eyes were sunken in, dark circles under them. Your face was red and splotchy, and you looked exhausted.

“Baby, I can tell right now that you are not fine, so out with it.”

Tears began welling up in your eyes. You couldn’t break now, not after hiding things for months and months. What would she do when she finds out? Probably send you away, probably hate you.

You pushed the tears away, swiping at them furiously. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“I know you don’t want to, y/n.”

“Then why won’t you leave me alone?!” Alex sat shocked; you had never raised your voice at her.

“Y/n- ”

“No! I don’t want help; I don’t need help. I am FINE.” You huffed and turned away.

Alex decided to give you a moment. A moment so she could think about what to do next. She didn’t want to force you to open up to her, because then it would lack genuineness and could damage the trust between you both. But she was so damn worried about you.

Within that minute that Alex had left you alone for, you managed to get past her and lock yourself in the bathroom – Alex only becoming aware when she heard the door shut.

“Dammit y/n.” She whispered to herself before knocking on the door.

“What mom!? Am I not allowed to pee alone anymore?!” You and her both knew that wasn’t what you were doing; and knowing your mom – a badass DEO agent – you had very limited time before the door was busted open.

You felt below the sink, pulling the blade from where you’d hidden it. Wasting no time, you slashed at your thighs, the relief immediate.

Right on time, Alex forced the door open.

“Oh baby.” You looked up at her, begging her not to get any closer. “Let’s put that down, alright y/n? Then we can get you cleaned up and talk.” You shook your head, feeling yourself become unwound.

“No, please. I just, I just need to do it two more times. It doesn’t work if its only once, please mom please.” Alex cringed slightly, how didn’t she notice that you had been on a downward spiral? That your OCD was coming back full force? That your eating habits changed, that your anxiety and depression were spiking again – how didn’t she realise?

“Y/n, please put it down.” You scooted across the floor, putting as much distance between you both as you could.

“I need it mom, please.” Tears rolled down your cheeks with no sign of stopping. Alex was doing the most to keep hers at bay. She couldn’t do this.

You look down at your thigh, blood dripping. You didn’t notice your mom flipping open her watch and pressing the button that had your aunt rushing through the door within the minute.

“Kara, please, I can’t – I don’t wanna hurt her. I don’t know how to stop her.” Kara took over, seeing her sister’s frantic state and pulled you into her lap, shushing you softly. You were no match for her kryptonian strength as she threw the blade towards your mom, who then flushed it.

You wailed and wailed, trying desperately to get out of Kara’s grip. She never wavered, just calmly whispering to you. Eventually, Alex pulled herself together and sat down on the bathroom floor with you both, noticing you beginning to stop fighting.

“My sweet, sweet girl.” She whispered, holding your face in her hands, kissing away the tears of anguish and suffering.

“Mommy.” You reached out from your Auntie Kara’s grip, latching onto Alex. “’m sorry mommy, ‘m sorry.”

“Shhh, shhh honey. It’s all okay. I’ve got you.” Alex paid no attention to the blood that was getting over her clothes. All she cared about was holding you tight.

Kara sat quietly, watching her niece and her sister who were both clearly in pain and scared. Alex usually always had control of situations, so when Kara came in to see her frozen and desperate it scared her.

“Hey, I think we should have a look at your leg, y/n.” Kara said softly, not wanting to break up the mother-daughter moment; but being the only one who got a good look at your thigh, she knew the depth of the wounds.

Alex tried to ease you off her, coaxing you until you eventually let go. She didn’t realise the damage you’d done. Not only the new, deep cuts; but the hundreds of scars covering your skin. She felt like she’d failed.

“Baby, I think you need stitches for a couple of these.” Alex said, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I’m not getting stitches. It’s fine, Mom.” Kara interjected,

“They’re pretty bad sweetheart.”

You shook your head. “I’m not going to a hospital. You can’t make me.”

Kara looked at Alex, trying to see if they were on the same page.

“We could call Lena, then her and I can do it.” Your mom says, nodding to Kara who pulls out her phone.

Kara lifted you onto the bathroom counter. There were some perks to having two people trained in some sort of medicine in your chosen family, you guessed. They could perform small things like this. But sometimes, like today, it just didn’t make things any easier. Your Aunt Kara tried to talk to you, keeping your eyes on her as her sister and girlfriend cleaned your wounds and stitched them up. You had tears of pain dripping down your face, but your bared it. Just.

“We’re done, y/n. You did so well darling.” You blushed slightly at Lena’s praise. Reaching for your mom, she had no hesitation in pulling you into her arms, albeit struggling a little.

There was a knock at the door, and given you wouldn’t let your mom go, Kara went and answered it.

It was Kelly, who had brought over homemade soup, bread and some ice-cream.

With you still attached to her hip, Alex kissed her girlfriend and whispered a small thank-you. Kelly smiled knowingly and rubbed your shoulder.

The four older women would do anything to make sure the youngest of their family was okay, and seeing you so obviously not, was painful.

“Should we eat something bub?” Alex asked gently, you shook your head. “Kelly brought your favourites.” You shook your head again,

“Don’t wanna eat.” Alex sighed. You’d truly slipped so far backwards.

She tried to put you down on the couch, eventually compromising so you were sitting on her lap. It was a long hour of persuading and encouragement from all four women, but you ended up eating something.

Kara tried to lighten the mood, talking about anything and everything to keep your mind off the food. It worked for the most part, but you just couldn’t stop thinking about how utterly fat you were. You shouldn’t need to eat.

It felt like you were just a lifeless sack, being passed from one person to another; your brain having difficulty processing what was going on until it was happening. Your mom placed you into a full tub, scrubbing your dirty hair and body. There was faint commotion somewhere else in the apartment, but you couldn’t focus long enough to figure out what it was.

Kara and Lena worked on changing your bed, giving you fresh sheets and blankets. Kelly called a couple contacts she had that were good at working with adolescents. It would be hard to bring up the fact that you have to go back to therapy; you weren’t too fond of it. But Kelly was happy to help make it as comfortable as it can be, even looking for someone who was in the same building as her so she could be there if need be.

Lena offered to braid your hair while your mom, aunt Kara and Kelly talked outside. You welcomed the attention and began to drop off as nimble fingers threaded through your freshly washed hair, despite it only being the afternoon.

“You can go to sleep darling, it’s okay.” Lena said gently as she finished the second braid. You surprised her by turning into her and nuzzling her neck; desperate for the comfort wherever you could find it after isolating yourself for so long.

Alex walked in, telling Lena that both Kara and Kelly had to go back to work, at least for an hour or two.

“I’m happy to stay if you both need someone here?” Lena replies, smoothing your hair as you get nearer to sleep.

“Thank you, Lena. But we’ll be alright; plus, I’m pretty sure the other two are coming back tonight, if you want to come too. They’re worried about her.” Lena nods,

“I am too.” Alex realises how much you mean to all four of them. This little girl, who was maybe not so little, had such a huge part of their hearts – hearts that now ached alongside yours. Though, hopefully, they would be hearts to help heal yours, too.

238 notes · View notes

free-pancakes · 3 years

Text

Dreams and Nightmares

Summary: LeviHan Canon-Divergence fic Hange barely survives the final fight against Eren, and is saved by inheriting the Beast Titan from Zeke Yeager in the end. However, the Scouts soon find that this would come with a heavy price–particularly at Levi’s expense. Chapter 9/? Chapter 8 Chapter 7 Chapter 6 Chapter 5 Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Chapter 1

crossposted to ao3 here: link

notes: ahhh this one's long, I got carried away. but! hope you all like it! thanks for reading everyone, i think i'll be wrapping up this story in one more chapter after this!

CHAPTER 9

“Happy birthday, Levi!”

Kuchel gently shook the child awake, his big grey eyes blinking sleepily until he realized what day it was. He sat up quickly, a tiny smile on his face as Kuchel squeezed him tightly in a warm embrace.

“How old are you again, sweetie? I seemed to have lost count!”

Levi jumped up on his bed, fists pumped up in the air in triumph— “Mama, I’m 5 years old today!”

“Oh that’s right!” She said with a bright, yet tired grin. Stepping out into the kitchen, she had a small breakfast prepared for him, and reached to the countertop for a surprise. Levi burst out of their shared bedroom and sat at the table, waiting for his mother to sit with him. Next to him she placed down her cup of coffee.

Mouth full, Levi asks, “Aren’t you gonna eat with me, Mama?” Before he could try to give her half of what was on his plate, she whipped out a small cinnamon bun for him from behind her back.

His eyes sparkled as he saw the small pastry, something he had always dreamed of eating—one of the fancy-looking ones from the bakery window he would see on the other side of the underground.

“Once you finish all of your breakfast, you can have this, okay Levi?” He nodded earnestly, gobbling up the rest of his food before reaching for the bun. He tried to give her half, but she settled for a little bite, convinced by Levi’s little glare when she said she wouldn’t try any. Kuchel’s nearly empty stomach rumbled in hunger, but her heart was completely full as she watched her son eat a proper meal for once.

Luckily, she had the whole day free for him without having to leave him early for work. So, she took Levi for a walk to one place she had always wanted to take him—he was just old enough that he’d be able to keep this memory as he grew older, and she wanted him to remember and hold on to it for years to come.

They walked hand in hand until they reached a part of the underground that was very unfamiliar to Levi. Kuchel bent down to his height, and put her index finger up to her her lips, signaling him to keep quiet. Levi nodded, and followed her as she led him to a small ladder hidden amongst some abandoned buildings. When she reached the top, she reached down to hoist Levi up with her—and Levi covered his mouth to stifle a gasp. A tiny secluded area where some light from above ground escaped to shine on that very spot, there a bright patch of green grass with something quite beautiful in the middle...

Kuchel whispered as they crawled up to it together: “These are African violets, Levi,” she said with a smile as Levi’s eyes grew wide as he stared in awe. He had never seen real plants before, only in some of the few books he’s seen in his short 5 years of life. “They grow well in low light, like this spot right here!” She pointed to the grass and dirt underneath it— “Plants grow roots, which keep them grounded and so they can soak up water and nutrients to stay alive!”

“Wow,” Levi whispered as he looked, trying to imagine what the roots looked like below. “Mama, what happens if some of the roots ever get hurt?”

Kuchel tilted her head to the side, pleasantly surprised at her son’s curiosity. She chuckled, “Don’t worry Levi, even if some of the roots were to get severed or damaged, it’ll still continue living, and hopefully one day grow brand new roots in it’s place!”

Levi put one hand up to his forehead, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, thanks Mama, that’s good to know!” Kuchel smiled and ruffled his hair, and they both sat to stare at the violets together for a little while longer.

——

“Is the Captain finally asleep?”

“Yeah, I think so, Jean,” Armin answered. The two stood just outside the open door to the infirmary room Hange laid in, and saw Levi had fallen asleep sitting up in the chair they had placed in the room for him.

It had been an entire week since Hange was in this state, and it had felt like an eternity to all of them. But as much as it was bringing all of them down, they knew it was affecting Levi the most.

“I don’t think Captain Levi has slept all week… the bags under his eyes seemed a lot darker and more menacing than the usual.” “Connie, now’s not the time to joke around about this,” Jean retorted.

“I’m not joking! It’s the truth and you know it!”

Armin jumped in to separate the two. “Guys, calm down, you might wake him up—“

Out of nowhere, a sweet aroma lingered in the air, causing all three of them to stop, looking around for the source. Their eyes all fell upon Mikasa, holding a small paper box.

“I… got this from Niccolo’s bakery. I remember Hange mentioning to me once that he liked—“

“Oi, is that a cinnamon bun?”

All four of them jumped, startled from Levi suddenly joining them.

“Captain, I think maybe you should go back to sleep—“ Levi squeezed Mikasa’s shoulder and gently took the box from her hands.

“All rested. Connie, it’s your turn to watch over Hange,” Levi said as he walked away.

Once he disappeared around the corner, Connie, Armin, and Jean frowned at Mikasa.

“You knew this the whole time and didn’t tell us?? All we needed was a stupid cinnamon bun to get him off our tails all these years??”

“Ow!”

Mikasa smacked Connie upside the head, and she swiftly followed after Levi, leaving the three in her dust. They grumbled and shrugged it off, and Connie went in to look after Hange.

Levi sat outside looking out at the ocean water as the sun began to set, an empty box filled with crumbs in his lap. It had been a long time since he thought about his mother, the violets. He thought about how much she probably sacrificed just to get him that cinnamon bun for his birthday.

The memories gave him some relief for once—he was absolutely exhausted, a week without any sleep weighing down on his eyelids as he stood guard over Hange. For once, they had a win—they made it out alive. But now, he wasn’t so sure they really won, and his hopes were beginning to unravel.

He closed his eyes. “Just for a moment,” he thought. But before he knew it, he woke to the cover of night, and Mikasa sitting next to him.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Mikasa decided to break it. “Can I ask why this is your favorite?” She said as she pointed to the empty box in his hands. Before he would answer Mikasa, Levi looked up at the sky, staring at the stars shining above him.

——

Hange stared at the stars above her, wondering if the ones here in paths were the same ones Levi would be able to look up at right now.

“Come on, Zeke, there has to be another way!”

Zeke yelled back. “Hange, we’ve tried everything! We’ve been at this for who knows how long! It’s not like we could keep track of time here, for all we know, it’s been weeks!’

Hange felt anger surge within her heart.

“And what, so we stop trying??” She kicked, sending showers of sand flying towards Zeke. Thunder cracked and lightning flashed, drizzles of rain beginning to fall.

Hange held up her hand to catch raindrops. “See, we learned that this realm is clearly susceptible to emotions!” She spun a knife from her pocket, and slashed at the palm she held up. “And we cant turn into titans here, but we are still able to regenerate here…”

Steam arose from her wound, the skin of her palm gradually mending back together. Then she picked up a leaf, and as she rubbed it, it morphed into a baseball—“And that objects we find here can sometimes turn into something we most desire…”

She threw the ball at Zeke, who caught it carefully. As he looked down at it, it suddenly morphed into a baseball bat, smacking him right in the face.

Hange threw her head back and laughed, “…and we know that it doesn’t always do morph reliably!”

Zeke grumbled, rubbing his forehead right where the bat hit him. He couldn’t believe Hange still had this much energy. He was right at his limit of patience for all of this. In his opinion, it was all moot—they had tried so many different things, and the turnout was looking quite bleak.

“Hange, have you—“

“…And we found out that…”

“Hange.”

“AND we know that—“

Zeke stood up and grabbed her hand, forcing her to look at him.

“Hange, listen. Have you ever thought… that maybe… maybe you should just let this all, go?”

Hange’s bright expression slowly faded, a confused frown now left on her face.

“W-what?”

“I’m just saying, we’ve racked our brains for maybe a week. And maybe we should just focus on getting you back home and out of paths. We’re not even sure if we could do that, right?”

Hange turned away from Zeke, and remained silent.

Zeke spoke— “Just… maybe you should just let Levi go, Hange. He’s alive right, isn’t that all that should matter to you?”

Hange looked up towards the giant, glowing tree standing in the center of paths.

“Do you really think the tree doesn’t hold anything promising? I know you tried before I landed here, but…”

“Hange are you even listening to me??”

Zeke watched Hange’s back, her frame beginning to tremble. Of all the losses, the countless losses Levi and she had endured up until now—they deserved a win. And she wouldn’t give up on it. Ever. She balled both hands into fists, and stopped shaking, now still and firm in her decision.

“Zeke, defeat is all the Survey Corps has ever known.” She took a deep breath. “…But this time, I’m bringing us a win, whether you’re gonna help me or not.” She then made the trek towards the tree.

Zeke sat in the sand, dumbfounded. Hange was intriguing to him—he wondered how different things would have been if she ended up being a Marleyan Eldian instead one within the walls. Someone sharp like himself but… a lot more optimistic. That’s right. Might have done them all really well and maybe things would have turned out better for him and his comrades—none of them knew what they were missing here. He brushed both these pointless thoughts and the sand off himself, standing up to follow after her.

——

Mikasa spoke— “Just… maybe you should just let Hange go, Captain Levi. She’s alive right, isn’t that all that should matter to you?”

Levi kept walking as Mikasa followed behind him.

“Connie you can go, I’ll be here.” He saluted and hurried out as he saw Mikasa darting her eyes at Levi.

“Captain.” Levi didn’t answer and resumed his post next to Hange.

“Captain Levi, did… did you hear me?”

Levi remained seated, and did not look up towards Mikasa as he spoke: “You remember what Hange said, that day? In Shiganshina?” He took a quick pause. “…That ever since we joined the Survey Corps, every day has brought a new farewell?”

Mikasa’s heart dropped heavily at the memory, but she nodded.

“Well, I’m not ready to say farewell just yet.” Levi said with confidence. He had been thinking all this time that he’d pay the price of Hange being afraid of him, that he’d be happy if she was simply alive. Well, he knew in his heart that Hange wouldn’t be happy this way.

And he wouldn’t either.

So, he was putting his trust in her. If anyone could figure it out, it’d be Hange—and they deserved a win.

Levi took Hange’s hand in his, and brought it near his lips.

“I told Mikasa today about my 5th birthday. My mother, the violets… you remember right?”

He kissed her hand. He remembered when Hange asked him to take her the minute she told her—they spent the whole day looking for it, and luckily, they did find it. And they were still growing there after all this time.

“They grow well in low light…”

He laid his head on the bed next to her, yawning.

“…And even if a small section of roots get damaged, the flowers will still grow happily. And maybe someday, brand new roots can grow back in its place…”

Stealing a glance upwards towards Hange’s face, he swore he saw her smile before he drifted off to sleep.

——

Zeke stood in front of the giant tree with Hange. Her brows were furrowed, deep in thought.

“Hange, what’re you thinking?”

She swung her head back at Zeke, suddenly speaking a mile a minute. “Have you thought about how almost every curious thing in this realm has been activated by some kind of strong emotion? Feeling? Attachment??” She lowered her head, her fingers rubbing her chin, her eyes looking up in thought. “Well, not sure if exactly this, but you know I guess attachment applies to simply having strong feelings and—“

“Hange, Hange, slow down. What exactly are you implying?”

Hange was no longer talking, and now walking up to the tree.

“Strong feelings… a memory maybe…”

She felt drawn to it, and began reaching her hand up to the tree trunk, focusing on one of the happiest memories she had stored in her beautiful mind.

“Hange be careful! None of us has ever touched—“

Hange closed her eyes, focusing on the memory with a smile on her face, and gently placed her fingers over the bark burning a bright white light. Suddenly, yellow light began traveling between the bark’s crevices and nooks, slowly traveling to light up a whole section of the tree. A warm yellow glow covering only one section of branches to the top and going back down to where the visible portions of the tree ended in the sand.

The two looked in awe—it was breathtakingly beautiful.

“Why do you think—“ Zeke started, but simply couldn’t even finish his sentence in his shock.

Hange’s mind began racing, hypothesizing everything she could about what this might have meant, but out of nowhere, she felt like her heart stopped for a second, and it was as though she could hear Levi’s voice.

And her mind quieted, one particular memory coming to mind. She smiled and closed her eyes.

“Aw Levi…” she breathed out. “Thanks for reminding me of that memory…”

“Did you say something?” Zeke asked, only to find Hange shoot her head up, her eyes wild.

“Wait!” Hange yelled.

Was this the answer?

“The roots! Zeke!”

With a whooshing noise, the baseball bat from earlier suddenly morphed into a shovel. Hange began digging impatiently with her hands, pushing sand away to follow the portion of the tree lit with a yellow glow, following it down deep to reveal its roots.

Zeke was confused, but didn’t question her determination. He ran to grab the shovel and began to dig alongside her.

They dug for what felt like hours, and finally collapsed breathing heavily, arms aching, sweat dripping from their foreheads. Most of the root formation had been uncovered, still continuing to give off an inviting, warm, yellow glow.

They looked at the extensive network beneath them. Now curious, Zeke decided to reach out and touch a portion of the roots. When his fingers made contact, before his eyes flashed a memory.

He gasped and fell backwards.

“What! What’s wrong??” Hange rushed to Zeke’s side.

“It’s… Mr. Ksaver.”

Hange tilted her head to the side. “Mr. who?”

“I—“

Zeke paused, thinking. It was Mr. Ksaver’s memory of them playing catch, not his own. It wasn’t from his viewpoint so…

He followed the network and then touched a place a bit further down. He watched a memory, and did the same, touching yet another part farther down the line.

“Hange…”

She looked at him earnestly.

“I think… these are beast titan memories right here. I think, they may be lifetime memories of shifters….”

Hange’s jaw dropped. Zeke paused—one more to confirm his suspicions.

He reached, but stopped. He decided to take Hange’s hand.

“Let’s look together, okay?”

Both of them reached their hands towards the farthest end of the root network. “This would theoretically be your body’s most recent memory,” Zeke announced, raising an eyebrow at Hange.

Hange nodded back at him, ready to see.

Together, they touched the root end—they saw Hange’s body laying completely still and unconscious on an infirmary bed. Levi was there, asleep while holding her hand with his head lying on the bed next to her, an empty pastry box sitting on the table next to him, Mikasa sitting nearby, finishing paperwork in the dim lamp light.

#levihan #levihan fanfic #levihan fanfiction #dreams and nightmares #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hange #levi x hanji

40 notes · View notes

alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years

Text

all gone, all gone, all gone

part 4: well, no, i don't feel lighter

my crackfic is back, y'all!! and here to break my 3rd-chapter curse, in which every fic i've ever written ever, i've given up after exactly the 3rd chapter. hopefully the amnesia fic and the 5+1 can follow suit. i wanted to post something for thomastair week/alastair appreciation day, and this doesn't fully fit but i have too many WIPs and this was the closest thing. I've written most of part 5, which has some great thomastair action, so maybe i'll try to post that tonight as well

content warnings: suicide attempt, magical manipulation, implications of domestic violence

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist | AO3

They will never help you. Not even your sister takes your side, not in many months, years even. Do you think they would take you back now, like this? They preferred you floating dead in the Thames than fighting beside them even before I got my hands on you. They would use you and discard you in seconds. You are nothing to them, you never had been. Do you think your own mother would take you back knowing what you’ve done?

Alastair was clean again, free again. Those were the first words Belial had said to him after giving him a second chance. They repeated in his head now, deep in battle with the people he’d betrayed, the people who would betray him without hesitation. The people he should hold no loyalty towards.

But something else played in his head as well: a memory. He was 11, maybe 12, his sister slightly younger. They were playing hide and seek in the forest beyond Cirenworth. Alastair knew it was because his father was drunk and angry, and his mother had told him to get his sister out of the house. He was worried that she would get hurt attempting to calm him down, but Cordelia wasn’t. She was happy, she was laughing. She had no idea that anything could be wrong. She was elated for her brother to be playing with her. She wanted to run around and pick berries and eat them next to the lake a mile from their house.

He held tightly to the memory, as if it were a street he was sprinting down and if he made a single turn, he would never be able to find it again. It was the last thing he thought of before Belial returned to him, and it was a message he easily understood: this was the reason he was loyal to her, even when she betrayed him.

He had been so focused on his anger, his death wish, all of his own pain and heartbreak that he’d lost sight of what had sustained him all of his years: his sister. He survived on the knowledge that whatever happened to him, whatever abysmal fate was before him, his sister could have better. She deserved better. He could give it to her in whatever way possible.

He’d become distracted in his own pain, and Belial had preyed on that. Now, Alastair understood. It didn’t matter if Belial killed him or if he was sent away to the Basilias to waste away for the rest of his days or if he was stripped of his marks and never allowed to see his family again as long as Cordelia walked away in one piece.

Belial twirled Cortana in the air. “Good thing we have another Carstairs to wield it. Take care of her.” The blade flew into Alastair’s grasp. Cordelia winced and Lucie shrieked, charging towards Belial. They locked each other in a battle of magicks, but she wouldn’t last long, not against a Prince of Hell.

Alastair thought back to that memory, to the sound of her shrieks of laughter, of the flashes of deep, dark red hair between the trees as he chased her. He would rather die a thousand agonizing deaths than hurt her again. His mind told him that it was illogical, but he knew that it was correct. “You always wanted to be a hero, isn’t that what you said?” She looked hurt and confused, but more than anything, terrified. She needed to understand. There was only so much he could do; she needed to believe. “Do you believe you are a merciful hero?”

Realization flickered in her eyes of that memory from many years ago. “I try to be.”

Alastair couldn’t throw a sword and expect it to land safely in Cordelia’s grasp and without any demonic interception, nor did he wish to be within slashing distance of his sister with Belial in his head. Instead, he threw the sword upward.

Cordelia held out her hand and the blade flew into it, just as it had back in Devon. It fit firmly into Cordelia’s grasp just as Lucie collapsed.

“What-” Belial began. Alastair felt himself lifted into the air by an invisible hand around his neck. “-did you do?” Before he could answer, Cordelia started to move forward. The grip around his throat tightened and he couldn’t stop the strangled sound that followed. “Move another inch and I’ll snap his pretty little neck,” he warned. Cordelia froze.

“You should- have killed me-” Alastair choked out. “After Thomas.”

“You tricked me.”

“You wanted me- to give up. Should have known- I’m a talented- actor.” He could feel himself getting lightheaded attempting to speak, sacrificing the little air that he was still able to breathe.

“You think you’re so brilliant-”

“No. You’re- a fool. You- miscalculated.” He heard a shout down the corridor. If Cordelia was still holding Cortana when James arrived, there would be no way for Belial to win. Now was his only chance.

He heard a shriek as he flew through the air, colliding with a brick wall in a sickening crunch. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground. He opened his eyes just in time to watch Belial disintegrate at Cortana’s blade.

The world was blurry, and everything hurt. His body, but also - him. He was free. He was dying, but he was free.

Each breath hurt more and more, and he could taste blood in his mouth. He had at least several broken bones and a concussion, in addition to broken ribs and any internal injuries. He attempted to sit up but the bit of effort made his vision go black. Perhaps more than a concussion.

Suddenly, his sister's face was above him. "Stay with me," she begged. "Please, I need you. Please, hold on. Everything will be okay. We'll get you to the Institute and they will heal you and then we will figure out the rest. Please, I need you. I'm so sorry. I love you. I can't do this without you. Please, hold on, for me."

She should not be apologizing, he thought. I was the one who left her.

He tried. He tried to hold on. He had brief memories of the carriage riding, slipping in and out of consciousness.

Stay with me, she repeated.

I will, he tried to tell her, but no words came.

Then, he saw nothingness. The emptiness with which he was so familiar.

Then, he woke. He was in the infirmary. His whole body ached. He felt his stomach lurch as he remembered all that had happened the past two weeks.

Cordelia was sitting in a daze, not fully asleep, but not fully awake.

"I suppose this whole ordeal means that I am either very hard to kill or very bad at dying," he said weakly, startling her out of her stupor.

She glared at him. "Don't joke about such things! I would smack you were you not injured. I still might yet." She hurried to him and embraced him tightly. His body ached at her pull but he did not comment.

"How long has it been?"

"Three days since the fight."

"Is Lucie okay?"

She nodded. "It took her a bit to recover, but she's alright. There were other injuries, but somehow we all made it out in one piece."

"I'm so sorry, Cordelia," he said quietly.

"Shh, don't start that. It's alright. I just-" Her breath hitched for a moment. "I wish I had been able to see how much pain you were in. I wish I could have helped."

He shook his head. "No, I wouldn't have accepted it." He reached to cup her face in his hand but realized that his wrists were bound to restraints. Of course. He'd worked for Belial. He'd carried out unspeakable deeds for him. He'd kidnapped Thomas, even if he had freed him as well.

"They- they said they had to, that until you woke and they could assess the situation it would be necessary. I-"

"It's okay," he told her. "I understand."

"What are you going to tell them? About how... about what happened with Belial?"

He exhaled. "The truth. I will simply tell them the truth."

* * *

The Consul was apprehensive about allowing Alastair to take the Mortal Sword so soon after waking from his injuries, but he insisted that he would not speak without it. He only wanted to do this once. She reluctantly agreed, bringing the sword to the infirmary, along with the Inquisitor, the head of the Institute, and Sophie Lightwood as witness. He was unsure of how she’d gotten involved, but her presence somehow terrified him and soothed him at the same time. Cordelia was allowed to stay as well, as long as she did not interfere with the questioning.

The Mortal Sword burned through his body, aggravating his many wounds, but he’d felt worse. He answered their questions, explaining how Belial had held him over the Thames, threatening to drop him into the river as he brokered a deal with him. He conveniently left out the part that preceded. He attempted to describe what it was like to be under Belial’s spell, under his curse. He told them that he never wanted to hurt anyone. It was the truth, even under Belial’s influence.

“Thank you, Alastair. We’re almost finished,” Will told him. Alastair was unsure why he was asking the questions, he was sure that was meant to be the task of the Inquisitor, but whatever Will had done to earn the privilege, it seemed like he regretted it now. He was simply too empathetic. “Please allow me to clarify a few details. Belial, using Jesse Blackthorn’s body, pushed you off of Tower Bridge?”

Alastair grimaced, his answer burning in the back of his throat. He had hoped they would overlook this part. “No.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was already over the edge of the bridge.”

“I don’t understand.”

Alastair looked over to Cordelia who seemed ready to jump in on his behalf, though they both knew she was not allowed. “I- I jumped,” he confessed, relief washing over him, though he did not know if it was because of the sword. “I attempted to kill myself, but Belial stopped me.”

The Consul and Will Herondale looked at him in shock. Sophie Lightwood appeared guilty, but he had no idea what for. The Inquisitor was indifferent.

Will attempted to speak, the pain breaking through his eyes, but could not. The Consul stepped in instead. “I see. Is there any other information relevant to this ordeal?”

He was about to respond when Sophie spoke up. “What did Belial tell you about Barbara?” Ah, he realized. That was why she was here. That was why she was guilty.

“Sophie!” the Consul scolded.

“Mrs. Lightwood, that is entirely-” The Inquisitor began, but it was not a question Alastair was opposed to answering.

“Nothing,” he told her. “But I overheard him speaking to Tatiana. He called Barbara’s death his gift to her.”

Sophie’s solemn expression did not hold the surprise of the Consul’s or Will’s. Alastair was merely confirming what she already knew.

The Consul nudged Will forward to take the sword back from Alastair. “I believe we’re finished here. We will discuss the matter and return to you shortly.”

There was an uncomfortable silence as Will put away the Mortal Sword and they left the room, Sophie casting an apologetic glance back at him. The silence stayed between him and Cordelia as they waited. He believed before that if he could skirt around the truth, there was a chance he would walk free, even if he did not deserve it. Now, knowing that they knew the full truth, his stomach twisted at the thought of their decision.

Cordelia looked pale, and he knew she was thinking something similar. “I’m going to go get some water,” she said finally. It wasn’t even a convincing lie.

“Cordelia, what are you doing?”

She didn’t answer as she left the infirmary.

if any of this seems unrealistic, i don't care! i made this mess and i can deus ex machina it if i want to!!!

taglist (ask to be +/-, this is a different taglist than most of my content because of the triggers): @jem-nasium @littlx-songbxrd @fortheloveofthecarstairs @cant-think-of-anything @shadowrunner2000 @writeforjordelia @jurdan-my-beloved

Part 5

#cw suicide #alastair carstairs #thomastair week #tlh #the last hours #cordelia carstairs #all gone fic #fanfic #fanfiction

33 notes · View notes

bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

Text

Double Heart | Chapter Fifteen ~ Haldir

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 3995

Warnings: None

A/n It may be late on Monday (10:51pm to be exact) but it’s still Monday! Happy reading :)

I find little rest.

My night is plagued by worries over Cosima’s state and Rumil’s ominous—and ridiculous—warning.

Around five in the morning, I can bear it no longer and throw myself from bed, showering and dressing quickly. Before I know it, I’m on the second floor, rounding a corner that will take me down the hallway that leads to Cosima’s room.

Her door is ajar.

Despite the early hour, I hear animated voices coming from inside — it seems Baranor is visiting, just as he promised. Upon hearing Cosima’s laugh, I breathe a sigh of relief. She sounds much better than she did yesterday.

With a new relaxation in my shoulders, I hover in the doorframe, knocking on the wood while I wait for permission to enter. Cosima’s eyes—surprised but alert—meet mine and she smiles warmly. I feel my lips return the gesture automatically.

“Ah, good morning, Haldir,” Baranor welcomes. “I came to check on Cosima before my shift and, to my surprise, she was already wide awake.”

Cosima giggles guiltily. “I’ve been up since three. I guess when you fall asleep when it’s still light out, that’s to be expected. Haldir, you can come in.” She waves me in and I cross the distance between the doorway and the foot of her bed. I stand there, arms crossed over my chest, and examine her face more closely. The brightness has returned to her eyes, color once again tints her cheeks, and there’s not a trace of pain in her features.

Thank goodness. “You are feeling better?”

Her smile softens and she looks down at the blanket before meeting my eyes again. “I am. I’m sorry I scared you.”

I shake my head quickly. “No, I’m thankful I was there. And I’m even more thankful that you’re better now.” I tilt my head in Baranor’s direction. His frightening words from last night have not left my mind. “She is better?”

He hesitates only a fraction of a second, but it’s enough to send a searing path of anxiety through my chest.

“Yes. Her symptoms from last night are gone.”

I raise my chin, fighting the urge to more visibly react. Baranor has noticed something’s still wrong with her fæ, then. But there’s no reason to worry Cosima with this — yet.

But if Elrond can’t fix it…

I attempt to push that thought from my mind. There will be something to be done. She will get better.

I turn back to Cosima. “Have you eaten?”

She shakes her head then rolls her eyes, presumably at my disapproving look.

Thankful for the task to redirect my nervous energy, I push myself towards the door. “I will return shortly with food. Baranor?”

He takes the hint and wordlessly follows me out, pausing at the door to smile at Cosima in farewell. As soon as we are clear of the hallway and her human hearing, I turn on Baranor.

“What?”

He sighs. “No, come with me. Elrond will want to hear this, too.”

I quicken my pace to follow him through the estate, but my frustration spikes. “Is it so bad that you cannot tell me now?”

He huffs, avoiding my eyes. “It is not ‘bad,’ per se — it’s just a new development. Elrond might be able to help us understand. There’s no point in leaving him out of the discussion.”

Thanks to our pace, we arrive in the archway into Elrond’s study in a matter of minutes. He stands, seeming unsurprised by our presence.

“What did you learn, Baranor?”

Baranor exhales heavily and meets Elrond near his desk. I follow on his heels, anxious for some answers.

“Her fæ is better than when I checked on it after the orc ambush,” he begins.

I crush down the temptation to hope. If it were that simple, Baranor would have told me immediately.

“But it is different,” he continues. “Many of the previous injuries are in various states of healing — some scarred, the smaller tears are nearly invisible now. But, well, there’s a new tear that wasn’t present before.”

I suck in a sharp breath. Her fæ shouldn’t have a new injury.

Elrond levels us with a steady look. “But the other wounds are healing?”

“Yes, like I said, she is making progress,” Baranor allows, “but something has caused another deep cut — the edges are serrated, almost like it was slashed with a knife.”

“Hm.” Elrond frowns. He turns his thoughtful eyes to me. “Baranor mentioned you were with Cosima when she became ill? What happened leading up to that?”

I blink, trying to follow Elrond’s reasoning for changing the topic. “We were talking normally. I was telling her of a personal memory, one from my childhood, and her health took a turn.”

Elrond purses his lips. “Interesting…I had a meeting with her human companion yesterday, Alexander, and he mentioned a similar experience. He’s noticed that any gain in memory is often accompanied by an ache in his head. What we previously attributed to a head injury might actually be related to something else. Is it possible Cosima remembered something and did not mention it?”

“It is possible,” I allow, though I wish I could deny it. If what Elrond is suggesting is true, then every time Cosima remembers something, she runs the risk of suffering through horrible pain…the thought makes me feel ill.

“On the other hand,” Elrond continues, “perhaps that very restoration in memory is an indication of healing. I think it is quite possible the fæ injuries, the return of their memories, and the headaches are all somehow related. There is still much to learn…But overall, they are both making progress,” Elrond declares, expression settling into one of serene neutrality. “I will spend time with both Cosima and Alexander and attempt to help them find their way to more memories and address any side effects that may produce. Baranor and I will monitor their fæs and see if the healing continues or if new wounds arise. That will help us gather more information and then we can proceed with a more knowledgeable plan.”

I feel my jaw tighten. “And if the memories cause new wounds to appear?”

A note of pity entered Elrond’s eyes, and I am momentarily taken aback. Pity for Cosima and Alexander…or pity for me?

“I will do all that I can. Though, I suspect your Lady will have more wisdom on this subject than I.”

I bow my head in acknowledgement of his commitment, though I agree. If anyone can help, it will be Lady Galadriel.

Baranor darts his eyes in my direction. “Should we tell them?”

Elrond shakes his head. “I would prefer to do so, if you do not mind. I expect it will lessen their anxiety if we can begin what I hope is treatment immediately after I alert them to the issue.”

Fair point. I square my shoulders. “Understood, thank you both. Please alert me if there is any change.”

Both agree to my request and I leave them to their discussion, seeking out the kitchens so I can procure food for Cosima and myself.

I try not to dwell on what Baranor’s discovery could mean. Cosima seems to be healing, but with this new wound and the possibility of more in the future…will it be enough? Can her already fragile fæ handle all this damage?

Eru above, I pray so.

When I return to Cosima’s room, I find her in a rose-colored tunic and dark leggings, her long, wavy hair damp from a shower. She smiles brightly, taking one of the plates from my hands.

“Thank you! Want to sit?”

I accept her offer and sit opposite her in the small seating area, resting my plate on the coffee table that lies between us. I try to study her inconspicuously. She looks fine. Kind, dark eyes alternate between meeting mine and looking at her plate. The shorter pieces of her hair near her face brush against the arch of her neck as she shifts in her seat, stretching forward to reach her glass of water. She has a small freckle below the left edge of her bottom lip. I’ve never noticed it before.

Amused chuckles disrupt my inspection.

I blink, my eyes leaving her mouth to meet her gaze. “What?”

“You’re staring at me, stop it,” she laughs, fiddling with her hair.

I narrow my eyes. Oops. “You’re sitting right across from me, what else is there to do but stare at you?”

She rolls her eyes, though it’s clear she’s only teasing me. “I guess I have no choice but to stare back.” She makes a big show of resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, setting an unwavering gaze upon my face.

I raise an eyebrow. “You know it is my job to watch? I spend days in the trees watching for movement or something out of place. This is not a competition you can win.”

“Oh yeah?” She quirks an eyebrow of her own. “Watch me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

She purses her lips and my eyes are once again drawn to that little freckle that somehow escaped notice for so long. Her lips twitch in amusement and my eyes follow their curve.

I tear my gaze away. Clearing my throat, I reach for my water. Cosima leans back into the couch, popping a blueberry into her mouth. “Ha!”

“Yes, congratulations,” I mutter, throat going dry despite the water.

She furrows her eyebrows. “You okay?”

“Yes, of course.” I turn my attention back to my food. “Are you feeling well enough to begin training today?”

She nods enthusiastically. “Yep, as long as today still works for you.”

“It does. I am meeting with my brothers to formulate a plan for Elrond’s guard, but I should be done by this evening. Can I come by then?”

With a smile, she agrees. We pass the remainder of breakfast easily. I keep a tight reign on my “staring” as she called it. There’s no reason to do that.

{***}

“What are you going to teach her, exactly?” Rumil lengthens his stride to keep up with me.

I look at him from the corner of my eye. “The basics.”

“Would you like my assistance? I could join you.”

He hasn’t let his misguided notion from last night drop. I quicken my pace. “No, thank you. If you want to help with something though, you could convene with Glorfindel and get the name of every member of Elrond’s guard.” There. That should keep him distracted tonight.

Rumil huffs, evidently displeased with my request, but doesn’t argue. “Alright.”

He sidesteps to enter the hall to our room but I continue, taking the stairs that will lead me to Cosima’s room. Rumil gives me a look but says nothing, keeping to his path.

I knock on the closed door — humans are so funny with their distrust of others to respect their privacy — and Cosima quickly opens it, welcoming me in with a smile. She shuts the door behind me.

“I pushed the furniture back to give us more space.” She gestures to a corner of her room where the plushy seats and wooden table are gathered near the wall.

I nod. “That’s good, thank you. And you feel alright?”

Her smile softens. “Yes, I promise.”

“Good,” I exhale. With that reassurance, I can get down to business. “If you could stand here.” I direct her to a spot in the middle of the room. “And move your feet a bit wider than hip width apart, like this.” I show her, and she mirrors the stance. “A little wider.” I step forward and nudge her right foot with my own, showing her how far I want it to move. “Now bring your dominant foot back a little. And lean forward slightly at your hips.” She follows the instructions, hinging forward as directed. “Like that, good,” I approve. “Now this is known as your fighting stance.” Cosima looks up at me expectantly, waiting for me to explain. “It is not realistic to be able to keep this during a fight, but it should be your default, something you can get to automatically. A fighting stance allows you stability to keep from falling and gives you an anchor if you need power to wield a weapon. As a general rule, you should always attempt to attack or defend from this position.” She nods seriously.

Before she has a chance to register the movement, I shove her shoulder. Predictably, she stumbles backwards, arms flailing in an attempt to catch herself. Before she can fall, I grip her forearms, pulling her forward and steadying her.

With my hands still locked around her arms, I pause.

Were I training one of my wardens, I would have let them fall — why didn’t I let her fall? I should have. It’s an important lesson — if you don’t do something perfectly, you could get hurt.

I glance between Cosima—who looks at me with narrowed and confused eyes—and the stone of the floor. The foundation of the bedroom is solid rock, she could be seriously injured if she collided with it. An elf would be able to fall unscathed, but a human…

“What?”

Cosima’s voice brings me back to the present. My hands are still gripping her arms.

I quickly release her. “Nothing, just thinking.” Before she can investigate further, I hurry to move on. “Your stance should be solid enough to allow you to be immoveable. I should be able to push you and you stay upright. Now that you’re expecting it, let’s try again.”

It takes a few attempts, but eventually, Cosima learns how to hold tension in her core and ground her feet so it’s more difficult to push her over. Of course, if I really used my full strength, she wouldn’t stand a chance, but there’s no need to discourage her this early. And, by the amused twinkle in her eyes, she already knows.

Once her stance is satisfactory, we move on to blocking. I step back, taking a moment to analyze. She’s shorter than me, smaller than me, which automatically gives me an advantage. I have thousands of years of experience while she has about half an hour’s worth. Again, advantage me. She relies too much on her dominant side — if I struck at her unguarded left, I could knock the wind out of her and then, while she’s distracted, pull a weapon and strike a fatal blow between her ribs.

I’m surprised by the resistance that rises within me. My mind shouts that I am not going to do those things, that I would never cause her harm. The thought of striking her or hurting her is unthinkable, repulsive. And all the while she looks up at me with trusting, curious eyes, not at all thinking that I’m currently running through a list of different ways to kill her.

I take a deep breath. This is just training. In order to better train someone, you have to get into the mindset of their opponent so you can plan for and strengthen weak spots.

I try again to study her analytically, distantly, as I have done countless times before with countless others, but the emotions still cause my gut to tighten every time I identify yet another weakness I could exploit.

Gritting my teeth, I force myself to push past the mental block and continue. She is leaving her left side unguarded. I start there.

Like most inexperienced fighters, she sees my slowed-down strike coming towards her left and grips my wrist with both of her hands, stopping my progress. I raise an eyebrow, easily pulling my arm back and her with it, sidestepping as she pitches towards the ground. I catch her before she can make contact, wrapping an arm around her waist and immediately releasing her once she’s righted. If you ever take this outside, let her fall then, I remind myself.

She looks up at me, wide eyes blinking rapidly.

I clear my throat. “If someone is attempting to hit you, don’t grab their arm to try and stop them — they can use that to their advantage, as I just did. Instead, you want to use your stance—remember to stay on the balls of your feet—to move out of the way before they can hit you. If you move quickly enough, your opponent is likely to stumble forward since they expected to make contact but now have nothing to stop their momentum. Ideally, you will spin or maneuver so you end up at favorable angle and counterstrike while your opponent is disoriented. Let’s try that.”

She bounces on the balls of her feet and nods, resetting her stance. I raise my arm once more, slowing down my movement so she has time to plan. Just before my fist makes contact with the curve of her waist, she sidesteps, twisting so she ends up behind me. I smile, guessing her next move. I’m not surprised when she pushes firmly between my shoulder blades and, for her benefit, I stumble forward. When I turn around, she’s grinning broadly. The smile doesn’t leave my face, either.

“Good,” I approve, turning to face her so that we’re reset. “Do it again.”

We practice variants of this strategy for a long time, speeding up or slowing down as her progress dictates. I teach her how to effectively duck, to use her stature to her advantage, how to quicken her pace so she stays out of her opponent’s reach.

I lurch forward to grab her, but she spins away at the last second, emerging at my right. As my fingers brush her side for the millionth time, I begin to worry. Does she notice how much I’m touching her? She hasn’t said anything, but she’s certainly not making as much contact with me as I am with her.

That’s because you are mainly on the offense, it’s your job to get close. In hand-to-hand, you cannot strike from a distance, I remind myself. And her job is to try and avoid you. Besides, I continue, allowing her a blow to my shoulder before lightly pushing her in an attempt to throw her balance, this is just normal training. I’m following the same protocol I would with anyone else I train.

Cosima ducks from my outstretched arm and attempts to sidestep, but I switch tactics and block her path. I wrap my arms around her and lift her over my shoulder, her surprised yelp ringing through the room. As soon as my point is made, I set her back on the ground.

She huffs. “You didn’t tell me you were changing it up.”

I give her a dubious look. “Yes, an orc is likely to announce its plan of attack. Forgive me.”

“Oh, all right.” She rolls her eyes. “So what do I do?”

I feel my gaze intensify, wanting desperately to communicate how important this is. “If someone gets their arms around you, they have complete control of you — in the case of someone as inexperienced as yourself, it’s over. Do not let them get their arms around you. Duck out of the way if you can, try to kick them and throw off their balance, elbow them, attempt to get behind them, whatever you need to do. Just don’t let them grab you.”

She nods seriously.

I hope she is never in a position where she will have to use any of this training. The trip home will be dangerous, yes, and obviously I would rather her have the training just in case, but I have no plans of leaving her to her own devices. No, I intend to keep her by my side as often as I can, and when I cannot, I will entrust her care to one of my brothers. She will never have to fight for her life by herself. And once we are in the heavily guarded borders of Lothlórien, which I myself am responsible for securing, she will be well away from danger.

But still, it is important for her to learn…just in case. At any rate, it will hopefully help her feel better about the second pass through the mountains. I know she still suffers from some anxiety due to her attack.

I repeat my movement from before, slower this time. She sees my arms coming and extends her leg, pressing her shoe against my shin.

I drop my arms. “What was that?”

“A kick.”

“You barely tapped me.”

She huffs, crossing her arms. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

I roll my eyes. “You could not hurt me.”

Her mouth drops open. “Rude!”

“It’s a fact.” I narrow my eyes, trying to determine if she’s taken real offense. I think not — there’s a teasing lift to the edges of her lips. So, I continue. “I’ve been a soldier for milennia, one tiny kick from a human woman is not going to send me to the ground in pain.”

Her gaze hardens. She shifts her weight. I crouch in time to wrap my hand around her ankle, stopping her attempt to kick me. I look up at her, unimpressed. An ellon with a day of experience could have seen that coming from a hundred miles away.

She grumbles and bends her knee, shoving it in the direction of my chest as her hands come to press against my shoulders. Before she can make contact, I release her ankle and stand, gripping her elbow and whirling her around. She stumbles, disoriented from the unexpected movement, and I lock one arm across her stomach, the other around her shoulders.

She freezes.

The silence of the room rings in my ears.

“Good instincts,” I mutter, my chest nearly brushing against her back. I stand stiffly, incredibly conscious of that tiny sliver of space. If either of us took even the slightest step…“But I guessed your intention and now I have you in my arms.”

Her breath quickens.

Perhaps I’ve pushed her human stamina too far for one day.

I pull my arms away from her and step back, giving her space to turn around. She does so slowly, swallowing and blinking up at me, looking a little dazed. Guilt creeps into my stomach. She was nearly sick last night, I should have taken it easier today. It is probably time for her to rest.

I clasp my hands behind my back. “I will show you how to avoid that position the next time we meet.”

She brushes a stray strand of hair out of her face. It’s in that peculiar style again — a bun, she called it, and I note with surprise that she still uses the hair tie I gave her on the road here. “Okay, sounds good. I uh, have a lesson tomorrow night with Baranor and Alex.”

I nod. “I can come the day after?”

“Good, yeah, that works.” She avoids my gaze. “Thanks.”

I furrow my eyebrows, examining her closer. She doesn’t look ill like she did yesterday. “Are you feeling alright? Did the headache return?”

“Oh, no.” She smiles and waves away my concern. “I think I’m just hungry and tired — I woke up too early.”

Good, she’s not sick, then. I nod. “Understandable. Do you want to go down to dinner?”

“Uh, I think I’ll have it sent up, actually. I want to study before my lesson tomorrow.”

Ah. I take a step in the direction of the door. “I will leave you to it, then. Enjoy your night.”

“You too,” she calls back. “And thanks again.” A much more natural smile graces her lips then, drawing my attention once again to that curious little freckle. My mind begins to drift, remembering the feeling of her in my arms, closer than she’s ever been before. The desire to hold her again makes itself known.

I practically bolt from the room.

A/n RIP Haldir’s sanity, honestly. Thanks for reading!! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my absolute DAY!

|next part|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff

#haldir #haldir x oc #haldir x ofc #haldir fanfic #haldir fanfiction

71 notes · View notes

crystalninjaphoenix · 3 years

Text

Hospitals & Hellos

A JSE Fanfic

Consider this a follow-up to the action of the previous part. A lot happened, including a cliffhanger that really left you dangling >:)c Sorry about that, but also not sorry. Anyway since it’s so closely related, I’m having trouble summarizing it. Basically, Chase and Marvin get some good news, there’s a brief intermission when something else happens, and then we cut back to those in more danger. That may sound confusing but I don’t want to get too spoilery. Read for yourself =)

You can find the other stories under the pw timeline tag!

Chase woke up to the sound of his ringtone, the sensation of someone shaking his shoulder, and the pain in your back and neck that develops when you fall asleep somewhere you’re not supposed to. He groaned, and opened his eyes. Where...? Ah, right. Jack’s hospital room. He fell asleep? For how long? Visiting hours must be almost over by now.

Marvin shook him again, leaning over from his chair next to him. “You keep getting a call,” he said. “You should probably pick it up now.”

“Right.” Chase stretched, wincing a bit at the ache in his body, then dug his phone out of his pocket just as the ringtone ended and the call dropped. But looking at his lock screen, he had three missed calls from one Detective Nix. “Oh shit!” He was immediately awake. “I gotta call back—”

Before he could do that, his phone rang yet again as it received another call from the detective. This time, Chase picked it up instantly. “Hello?”

“Mr. Brody?” asked the somewhat-familiar voice of Detective Nix.

“That’s me. Sorry about all the missed calls, I-I fell asleep.”

“Ah, I see.” Nix sounded amused. “I suppose I have to plan for calling you several times.”

Chase laughed nervously, glancing over at the others. He’d fallen asleep to Marvin teaching Jack the beginnings of BSL, but now both of them were staring at him, listening in to the conversation. Jack was sitting straight up, without leaning against the bed. Marvin kept bouncing his leg. The two of them were clearly anxious. “So...wh-what’s the situation?”

“Well, there’s good news, bad news, and good news,” Nix said. “Which would you like to hear?”

Chase inhaled sharply. “Bad news first.”

“We couldn’t find your friend Henrik. Or the other one who’d been taken a month ago, Jameson.”

“Oh.” Chase’s heart sank. “What’s the good news, then?”

“First things first: your friends’ tips were extremely helpful. We managed to find the house they were talking about,” Nix said. “We didn’t recover many things from the location, but we found something else. Or rather, someone else. Jackie Donovan.”

If his heart sank before, it now rocketed upward into his throat, rendering him speechless. Finally, he managed to get out a strangled, “What?”

“He was in one of the house’s bedrooms, badly injured and tied to a chair, but alive,” Nix continued. “He’s at the hospital now.”

“Which hospital?” Chase asked.

“Southpoint General, in the—”

“Holy shit, we’re literally there right now!” Chase stood up so fast he knocked his chair over. “Where is he?! Can we see him?!”

“He’s recovering in what is, I believe, the emergency ward,” Nix said calmly. “Don’t worry, he’s stable, but as I said, badly injured. Unconscious, actually. Visiting hours are basically over, but if you’re already here, and you insist, you could probably hurry if the staff lets you—”

“That’s what we’ll do, then. We’ll be there as soon as possible!” Chase hung up without saying goodbye, and turned to face the other two.

“What was that all about?” Marvin asked, confused but hopeful.

“They found Jackie!” Chase shouted, unable to contain his overflowing joy and relief. “They got him back, he’s here, at this hospital right now!”

“What?!” Marvin shot to his feet. “We gotta see him!”

“That’s what I said! If we run, we might be able to squeeze in just before visiting hours end.” Chase started to head towards the door, then stopped, and looked back at Jack. “Oh, uh, sorry, you probably want—”

“Go!” Jack waved at the two of them, pointing at the room’s doorway. “Gogogogogo!”

Chase laughed. “Alright, we’re going! I’ll see you in a couple days, probably!”

“Go!”

“Okay, bye!” Chase hurried out the door.

“Bye, Jack!” Marvin added, following Chase.

Jack waved at the two of them as they left.

From there, the two of them hurried to the nurses’ station so they could ask where Jackie was. Once the nurse confirmed he was in the emergency ward and gave them the room number, they practically sprinted to the right wing, desperate to make it before visiting hours were over. They ended up making it just in time, and both skidded to a halt outside the right door, breathing hard.

The door to the hospital room was ajar. An older man leaned over and peered through the doorway. “Ah, hello Mr. Brody.”

“Hello, Detective,” Chase said. He paused for a moment to breathe, then added, “We’re here.”

“I can see that,” Nix replied, smiling a bit. “Well, you and your friend come in. It’s Mr. Maher, isn’t it?”

Marvin nodded. “Yeah. Weren’t you at the trial? You talked about the case?”

“So I did.” Nix nodded.

“Huh. So you’re handling the whole thing?”

“Indeed. It’s turning out to be a complex beast of clues and crime. Anyway.” Nix stepped back, and Chase and Marvin entered the room.

Most of the emergency ward was large rooms with multiple beds, but there must have been certain circumstances in place to let Jackie have his own room to himself. It was small, but a bit more homey than Jack’s room in the ICU, with cushioned chairs and a couple small tables, even a TV in a cubby in a wall. The hospital bed didn’t have as much medical equipment surrounding it. But Jackie wasn’t awake to appreciate any of this.

Chase stopped short, just staring. It was eleven months since he’d last seen Jackie. He hadn’t always been that pale, had he? His collarbone and cheeks hadn’t always jutted out like that, had they? His hair was a shoulder-length mess, having grown out, and his eyes had deep purple bags under them. He was wearing a hospital gown, but there were scars visible on his arms that certainly hadn’t been there before, as well as some bandages wrapped tightly around his right arm above the elbow. Despite all this, he looked rather peaceful in sleep, breathing steadily.

Marvin made a choked sound, unable to say anything else.

“He’s...fine, right?” Chase asked, glancing at Detective Nix.

“The doctors say so,” Nix assured him. “He was injured when we found him, but they say it’s not life-threatening.”

“H-how? How was he injured?” Chase asked hesitantly.

“Well...you can see his arm. His legs are bad, looked like someone used a knife to slash them up. And there was a stab wound in his stomach. But he hadn’t lost too much blood. They say his main problem is malnutrition. He’ll be okay.”

Chase let out a long breath. “Okay. Okay. That’s good. Good to hear.”

Marvin stayed silent. He walked up to the bed and, after a moment, gently took Jackie’s hand.

“I’ll let you two have a moment.” Nix slid out of the room, closing the door behind him.

The moment passed in silence.

——————

The car ride back was silent as well. A lot had happened that day, and the two of them sat, quietly processing everything. They lost Schneep, but found Jackie, each within a few hours of each other. Who knew what would happen tomorrow?

Chase pulled onto the street where Marvin’s house sat, and noticed something odd. “Is there someone outside your house?”

“Hmm?” Marvin, previously spacing out, snapped back to reality. “Why would someone be at my house?”

“I dunno, I assumed you would. Not expecting anyone?” Chase shrugged. “Maybe they’re in front of the neighbors.”

“No.” Marvin narrowed his eyes, staring down the road. “There’s someone at my door. A car in front, too. Who is that? I can’t see them.” He shook his head. “Too dark. The city needs to work on installing stronger street lamps in the area.”

Chase chuckled a bit. As he approached Marvin’s house, he pulled to the side of the road, right behind the strange car that was already there, and tried to get a good look at whoever was at the doorway. A woman. Dark-haired, wearing a brown leather jacket and jeans. She was facing the door, her back to the road, but when the car pulled up she heard the sound and turned to look. Odd...Chase recognized her. But he couldn’t place where he’d seen her before. “You know her?”

“Uh...I don’t think so?” Marvin shook his head, looking confused. “But I think I do? She kinda looks familiar.”

“I was thinking the same thing, actually.” Chase parked the car and opened the door. “C’mon, I want to talk to her.”

“Yeah, let’s ask her what she’s doing at my house at like ten o’clock,” Marvin said, opening his as well and heading out.

The two of them walked up the short path to the door. The woman, noticing them, waved. “Hello! I’m very sorry, ah—one of you is Marvin, right? Actually, you both look—maybe you could both help me? I’m looking for Henrik.”

That voice made Marvin stop in his tracks. “Mina?!”

Chase visibly started as the pieces clicked into place and he remembered who this woman was. Mina von Schneeplestein—or rather, Mina Pfeiffer, as last he heard she was going by her maiden name again. What was Schneep’s ex-wife doing here?!

“Ah, you recognize me, so I have the right address.” Mina nodded, satisfied. “You are Marvin? I saw you on television, I recognize your hair. Though it’s longer than I remember. But to be fair, my memories of faces are vague.”

“You saw me on TV?” Marvin repeated, looking even more confused now that he realized who the woman was.

“Um, hi.” Chase waved awkwardly. “I’m Chase, I’m a friend of Schneep’s. What are you...It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, were you out of town or something?”

“Oh, Chase! I remember you. Yes, I went back home and stayed with family for some time,” Mina said.

“Why are you at my house?” Marvin blurted out.

“Well, ah—sorry about that. It was the only address I could think of.” Mina sounded fairly embarrassed. “I thought you would be home. I am looking for Henrik.”

“Why? We haven’t seen you for more than a year!” Marvin pointed out.

“Yes, I know. It is...a complicated situation.” Mina glanced back at the door behind her. “Should we go inside and sit down?”

“No, I’m fine,” Marvin said. “We can talk about this while standing.”

“...oh. Okay.” Looking even more embarrassed, Mina stepped away from the door, walking a bit closer to the two men. “I suppose this wouldn’t take too long.”

“So you’re looking for Schneep?” Chase asked.

Mina nodded. “Yes. I received some phone messages and mail from this hospital they said he was staying at. But I threw them out. Shortsighted, it would seem.”

“I think I know what you’re referring to,” Chase said. He recalled a conversation he had with Dr. Laurens, where she said they were trying to contact Mina but getting no response. “Did you think they were spam or something?”

“Ah...no, not exactly.” Mina grimaced. “It is really a long story, and it is cold and dark out, so I would prefer if we could step inside—”

“No, tell it quick,” Marvin interrupted.

Mina bristled a bit. “Well!”

“Marv, c’mon,” Chase pleaded.

“Look, no one disappears for a year without a reason,” Marvin insisted. “And something about this seems fishy, so I want to hear the story before I let her into my house with my pets.”

Mina sighed. “I do not see why you are so concerned. Henrik and I are married.”

“You’re divorced.”

“No, they’re separated,” Chase added. “It’s a different thing.” But personally, he still considered them exes, even if the separation had been friendly enough. The pair of them had rushed into marriage, likely due to some family pressure, and later agreed that they needed some time apart to sort their own lives out. That was about three or four years ago, and shortly afterwards Schneep had been diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder. As far as he knew, they hadn’t gotten back together since the separation.

“It’s just weird that you’re showing up looking for him now,” Marvin said, crossing his arms. “Where were you when he first went into Silver Hills?”

“I was out of the country,” Mina repeated.

“On purpose?”

“What?”

“Were you avoiding him?”

Mina looked like she wanted to protest, but then straightened, adjusted her jacket, and said, “If you must know, then yes.”

“Ha!” Marvin barked.

“You must be missing so much of what happened,” Mina said, leveling him with a stare. She was about equal height with the two men, so it wasn’t hard to do. “Henrik and I...were starting to try again. But then his behavior became erratic, and the next thing I knew, he put his friend in a coma and started killing strangers.”

“He wasn’t the one killing them,” Chase corrected gently—mostly to prevent Marvin from saying the same thing, much louder.

“Well I know that now, but at the time, it seemed fairly obvious,” Mina pointed out. “So I left for some time. I returned a couple months ago, but only now heard the news about the truth of the situation. I saw clips from the filmed hearing between you, Marvin, and that doctor. I saw them on television, and realized something was off. So I looked it up, and now I know, and now that I do, I have to talk to Henrik about something.”

“You know...it seems a bit sketchy that you immediately thought he must be the killer,” Marvin said. “Because he was, what, ‘erratic’?”

“Yes,” Mina said firmly.

“You should have realized he would never do anything like that!”

“I wasn’t about to stick around and have blind faith! That is how serial killers draw in women, it has happened in the past!”

“Schneep would never—”

“I did not know that! He was being very strange, and with his condition—”

“Get off my property.”

Mina blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Marvin leaned close to her. “Get off my property.”

“No, you do not understand, I really must know how to talk to Henrik,” Mina said, tone shifting from defensive anger to a strange desperation. “There is an important matter—”

“Find that mail you threw out and get the address from there. Google it, I don’t care. Though really, if you keep talking like that, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near Henrik.” Marvin growled. “If you stay here one second longer, I’m calling the police. Leave.”

Mina looked like she wanted to protest more, but thought better of it. She walked around Marvin and Chase, staring at the two of them as she did, and then hurried down the path to the street. She got inside the strange car Chase had parked behind, started it, and drove off.

“You could’ve handled that better,” Chase said.

“You didn’t say anything,” Marvin replied, facing him.

“No, I know. You’re right, something about that seemed...weird.” Chase couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something about the way Mina was acting was...strange. Not in a bad way. But it felt like there was something more she wasn’t saying.

“I don’t like people talking about people’s ‘conditions,��” Marvin muttered.

“Yeah, that was a bit...Just, the way she said it, like it was a given, y’know?” Chase shook his head. “But you really went off there.”

Immediately, all the fire drained out of Marvin’s body. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m just...tired.”

“I don’t blame you. I feel it too.” Chase nodded. “You, uh...want to go see Jackie sometime soon?”

Marvin nodded. Day after tomorrow? he asked, signing.

“That could work. We’d have to be quick, though, Stacy will be dropping off the kids in the evening for the weekend.”

Oh, you sure? I can go tomorrow, or even after the weekend.

“No, it’s fine, I...I really want to see him.” Chase swallowed a lump in his throat. “I’ll pick you up. How about around two?”

Marvin nodded again. That would work.

“Great. See you then.” Chase retreated to his car, turning back before getting inside to wave at Marvin one last time. Marvin waved back, then turned around and went through the front door to his house. Once he was gone, Chase got in his car and drove away.

This day just kept getting longer. He really needed to get home and go to bed.

——————

Two days later, Chase picked Marvin up and the two of them drove back to the hospital around two o’clock, when visiting hours started. They remembered the way to Jackie’s room, and found it quickly. Nobody else was there. Chase half-expected Detective Nix to still be here, doing some sort of police stuff, but no, the room was empty. Jackie was lying in bed, eyes open, hands folded on his stomach, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t moving at all, except for the up-and-down of his chest as he breathed. Chase hovered in the doorway, Marvin nearby, feeling uneasy. This sight was a bit...worrying. Was Jackie okay?

Marvin leaned over and whispered, “Is he awake?”

“I don’t know,” Chase replied in the same hushed tone. “His eyes are open.”

“Maybe it’s like with Jack? How he was before?”

“God, I hope not. I don’t want anyone else to go through that.”

At that moment, Jackie’s head turned, and he looked at the two of them. He must have heard them, despite the whispering. Chase gasped a bit before coughing to clear his throat. “Hey, Jackie,” he said awkwardly. “It’s uh...it’s us.”

Jackie didn’t respond, just kept looking at them. His eyes darted up and down as he took in their appearances. Self-consciously, Chase tried to brush some nonexistent dirt off his jacket. He should have worn a newer one instead of the old one with the first merch design for his channel.

Marvin waved. “Hi. We’re here now.”

“Yeah, hi.” Chase waved again. “Uh...how are you feeling?”

Still no response. Though Jackie looked a bit confused now.

“Uh...can you hear us, bro?” Chase stepped forward until he was standing next to the bed, then put a hand on the non-bandaged part of Jackie’s arm.

“Holy shit!” Jackie jerked his arm away and bolted upright. “You’re really here!”

“Wh—yeah?!” Chase said.

Marvin laughed.

Chase glanced back at him. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“Sorry, sorry, I-I dunno what that was about, nervous reflex,” Marvin waved away Chase’s look. “It was just a bit funny, cause he jumped up like that.”

“I—I wasn’t expecting that,” Jackie said, sounding a bit dazed.

“You...weren’t expecting us to actually be here?” Chase clarified.

“Yeah, I-I-I thought that—it’s all a bit—never thought I’d—” Jackie paused, gathering his words. “I thought that maybe...I was just daydreaming a bit. To make myself feel better. This whole place, actually.” He gestured around the hospital room. “I guess it was all so surreal, and I...I was kind of out of it, a-anyway, so I thought this was just more of that.”

“Oh. Well, no, we’re here.” Chase squeezed Jackie’s arm. “You’re really in the hospital. Southpoint General, actually, the same place Jack is.”

“Really?” Jackie laughed a bit. “Cool, I could go visit him.”

“Well he’s in a different, um, ward, or whatever,” Chase said. “But yeah, technically you could.”

Jackie smiled, but then the grin slowly faded from his face. His eyes glazed over a bit.

“So...” Marvin jumped in, walking over to stand next to Chase. “What do you remember?”

“Huh?” Jackie blinked, and looked over at him. “Remember about what? You’ll have to be a bit more specific.”

“I mean about the whole rescue operation,” Marvin explained. “How did the police find you?”

“Oh. Uhhhh yeah like I said I was really out of it, so...” Jackie shrugged. “Not that much. I remember them appearing, I think. There were, like, footsteps, and then a bunch of strangers appeared in the doorway.”

“Did they have to kick it down?” Marvin asked, sounding a little too excited at the idea.

“No, it was already open. I dunno why. Maybe he forgot to close it all the way, he was in a hurry.” Jackie mumbled that last part under his breath, but Chase and Marvin heard it easily enough. “Anyway, they picked me up, and I’m sort of assuming there was a ride to the hospital of some kind, but I completely zoned that out. I kinda vaguely remember a bunch of doctors and some bright lights? But, uh...yeah. Otherwise, I just woke up here, in the bed, and thought I was daydreaming it all.”

“You must have some vivid daydreams, bro,” Chase muttered.

“Yeah.” Jackie nodded.

Marvin gave Jackie an odd look. “I don’t know if having daydreams that strong is normal.”

“No, probably not, but it doesn’t matter, really,” Jackie dismissed.

Marvin looked like he was ready to push the issue, but Chase put a hand on his shoulder and subtly shook his head. This wasn’t the time. “Well, we’re...we’re just really glad you’re okay, Jackie,” he said softly. “We were so fucking worried. You—you’re alright, right?”

Jackie patted himself over, wincing a bit as he pressed on his chest. “Mostly, yeah.”

“Yeah. We’re so happy you’re back,” Marvin added. “What...what happened?” Chase gave him a sharp look, but it was too late, the question was out.

“What happened?” Jackie looked at Marvin incredulously. “I got fucking kidnapped, that’s what happened. And then—a-and then—I was—we—” He stopped, taking a few deep breaths. “Sorry, I...I can’t talk about it.”

Marvin winced. “Sorry. Th-that was—that was rude. It just sort of came out. You don’t have to talk about it. Like Chase said, we were just...really worried, and we—we want to know you’re okay.”

“It’s fine, just be careful,” Jackie said quietly. “I’m okay. Except for the obvious.” In the moment of silence that followed, his eyes drifted down, attention drawn by the bandages on his upper arm. Frowning in strange concentration, he reached up and started pulling at them.

“Whoa, dude, what’re you doing?” Chase almost reached out to grab his wrist, but stopped, thinking that wouldn’t be well-received. “You need those!”

“I just wanna confirm something,” Jackie muttered, managing to loosen the tight bandages enough to start unwinding them. “They can be put back on.”

“I—you’re not wrong, but—what if there’s—I don’t know, a lot of blood, or something?” Chase speculated.

“I don’t think so. Not if I’m remembering right.” Jackie slowly removed the bandages, unwinding and pulling them off. Until, eventually, the wounds underneath were visible.

All three of them stiffened in unison. Jackie’s arm was cut up, but not in a random or accidental way. Instead, the word WARNING was carved into his skin, in bleeding capital letters, going from his shoulder, all down his arm, reaching his elbow.

“What the fuck...?” Chase said, unable to say anything else. He couldn’t believe what he was saying. Stuff like that didn’t happen in real life, only in crime dramas. Who would actually do that?

Jackie’s face shifted as he covered up his distress with a blank expression. “So I was right,” he said tonelessly, attempting to rewrap the bandages one-handedly. Chase pulled himself out of his stunned stupor to bend over and help him with them.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“Huh?” Chase stopped, looking back over at Marvin.

“Anti. I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Marvin repeated through gritted teeth. His posture was stiff, unmoving, his fists clenched. “He takes our friends—JJ, Schneep, Jackie—and does this? I’m going to kill him. I’m going to take a fucking knife or a gun or rope or whatever I can find and I’m going to kill him and watch the fucking life drain from his eyes—”

“Jesus, Marv, calm down!” Chase cried. “You gotta think this through.”

Jackie nodded. “Yeah. You’re not a killer.”

“I could be,” Marvin said bluntly.

“No!” Chase straightened, grabbing Marvin by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him. “Marvin, I get it, you’re upset by recent events and clearly filled with rage. For good reason, I’ll say. But you can’t just walk up to a professional assassin and attack him, you’ll just get killed! Besides, JJ and Schneep wouldn’t want you to do that, even for their sake. Just...take a step back. Go walk around and get it out of your system, if you have to. Don’t do anything stupid.”

For a moment, Chase’s words only seemed to anger Marvin more. But then, he broke away, letting out one long, single breath. He pressed his hands to his eyes, breathed some more, then let out a shout and hit himself in the chest a couple times. Chase jumped in surprise, instinctively reaching forward to stop him, but Marvin was already done. “Alright, fine, you have a point. That’d be a dumb move. Impossible and not worth it. But fuck, we gotta do something.”

Chase nodded. “Yeah. I know how you feel, bro.” Even though common sense would say to leave this to the professionals, he couldn’t just sit by while his friends were in danger.

“Um...” Jackie waved a bit, drawing the other two’s attention back to him. “What do you mean ‘professional assassin’?”

“Oh. Do you not...know?” Chase asked. “I mean, I thought you would, but...I guess maybe there wasn’t an opportunity. That’s, uh...kind of what Anti does. I think what he’s done with Schneep and whatever he has planned now is just...a side thing, maybe. We actually found his website—oh shit!” His eyes widened in remembrance, and he whirled back to face Marvin. “Marv, you’re not gonna believe this, and you probably don’t need any more reason to hate this guy, but he might be the one who stabbed you.”

Marvin gasped. “Shit, really?!”

“The one who what?!” Jackie repeated.

“Oh, right you were...gone by the time that happened.” Marvin grimaced, then quickly filled in Jackie with what happened at the boutique he used to work for. Finding out it was a front, having someone stab him on his way home one night, getting home and patching up just barely in time, then figuring the owners of the front tried to kill him and heading back to Ireland for a few months to let things calm down. “How’d you figure out it was Anti, Chase?”

“I checked his website. He has reviews from past, uhhh…’clients,’ and one left one talking about a failed hit on a guy who sounded like you,” Chase explained.

“Well, shit.” Marvin folded his arms, face grim. “That’s not good. Well, I’m not gonna leave again until this whole thing is cleared up. Fuckers try to kill me again.”

“Y’know I really don’t think you should tempt fate like that,” Jackie pointed out.

“Fate doesn’t exist, only karma. They’ll get what’s coming to them thricefold, I’m not leaving.”

“I guess...you don’t have to,” Chase said skeptically. “But be careful. We’re not losing anyone else.”

Marvin nodded, expression finally softening. He grabbed Chase’s hand and squeezed it. “I will be.”

“Good.” Chase sighed. “Well, Jackie. This has been a lot of excitement. We should probably let you get some rest.”

“No no no!” Jackie protested. “I-it’s fine, I don’t want you guys to go yet. I...it’s been...so long. You know?”

Chase nodded sadly. “Almost a year.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” Jackie grabbed the edge of the hospital blanket, twisting it. “So...you have a lot to catch me up on, then. I-it’s gonna take a while. You should sit down.”

Marvin and Chase glanced at each other. Then Marvin shrugged. “There are better chairs in this room than in Jack’s,” he said.

Chase laughed. “I mean, I wasn’t gonna say it—”

“You were thinking it, though?”

“Exactly.”

“Glad to hear my chairs are superior,” Jackie said, smiling a bit. “Pull one up.”

“Alright, Jackieboy Man, we have some time,” Chase grinned. “There’s a lot you’ve missed.”

The three of them sat, talking for hours about things that mattered a lot, and things that didn’t matter at all.

——————

“—can’t believe they—how did they know about—probably figured out about the others too—”

Jameson wasn’t paying much attention to Anti’s muttering, but every so often, he caught random snatches as Anti paced back and forth. Every time he passed by the doorway, more angry phrases passed through into the bedroom beyond. Something really had him upset, didn’t it? From what little he heard, someone had found something, and that was a big problem. Well...he had wondered if the police found Anti’s previous hideout, and if that was the reason he had to drag them out of there. Whatever the case, good. If Anti had a problem, he deserved it.

“—three fucking people in this tiny—gotta find out what’s still—somewhere new? Maybe?—”

Lying on the bed, Jameson saw Anti’s shadow pass to the left...then the right...then the left...then the right.... It kept cutting across the light that was shining into the dim bedroom from the room outside. The living room, to be exact. The living room of the apartment he was now trapped in, to be precise. Though, Anti did seem to be distracted. The bedroom door was wide open, if he wanted he could run out and—No, it probably wouldn’t work. Anti told him the front door was locked, and he probably still had the key on him. Jameson couldn’t take it from him; Anti was much stronger. Besides, even if the key had been sitting out on the table, Jameson wasn’t the only person who needed to get out.

Speaking of which...

He rolled over to his side, now facing the bedroom wall. There was a window on this side, but the shutters were closed, and actually had a padlock making sure they couldn’t be moved. Anti probably had that key, too. There was a wardrobe in one corner and a dresser in the other, the former having its doors ajar to show it was empty inside. Or...empty of clothes, at least. A figure was pressed against one wall, huddled up, indistinct in the shadows. When Jameson had woken up a few hours ago, there had been faint mumbling and sobbing coming from that direction. Now, there was nothing.

After a moment of listless staring, Jameson sat up, glanced out the doorway to make sure Anti was still occupied in his pacing, then stood and walked over to the wardrobe. He pushed the door farther open and stared down at the figure. A man. Knees pulled up and arms covering face, the classic defensive position. A moment more passed before Jameson sat down on the wardrobe floor next to the shadowy huddle.

“Ah!” The man gasped a bit, then looked up. Wide blue eyes reflected the little light in the dim room. He stared at Jameson, then asked, “Jackie?”

Jameson shook his head.

“No, no. Of course not. I’m sorry, I am just confused.” The man’s eyes squinted a bit. “Do I...know you?”

Jameson shook his head again.

“Oh. Good. I was worried for a moment there.” The man uncurled a bit, taking his arms away from his face. He reached down to his ankles, slightly adjusting the cuffs around them, binding them together. Then he glanced around. “I do not recognize this place, either. Do you?” When Jameson shook his head for a third time, the man tilted his head. “Can you...not speak?”

Faintly surprised, Jameson nodded. Most people would ask why he was quiet or demand that he talk. Only a few caught on to the reality without him somehow cuing them with signs or writing.

“Ah, I’m sorry, then. Can you hear me?”

A nod.

“I see.” The man glanced out at the room again. “My name—my name is Henrik.” So Jameson’s guess was right. This was the Dr. Schneeplestein he’d heard so much about, and had one brief meeting with, a meeting that had ended badly. “What is your—what do I call you?”

Thinking for a moment, Jameson reached out and gently took one of Schneep’s hands. He stiffened a bit, but allowed him to do so. Jameson then drew out the letter J twice on the surface of his palm.

“JJ? Oh, that is very nice.” Schneep smiled faintly. “I understand some sign language, you know. But I am afraid I am very rusty. I do not think I could hold a conversation.” His smile fell. “Do you...know why we are here?”

Jameson nodded sadly. He gestured out towards the room, in the direction of the doorway Anti was pacing and muttering in front of.

Schneep shuddered. “Yes, I—I have—he has—I have been in this situation. Before.”

Jameson pointed at himself, then made the sign for also by pointing his fingers and touching his hands together.

“I know that one. You...you know him, too?” Schneep’s voice held a combination of horror, sympathy, and strangely, hope. Hope that he wasn’t alone. “I suppose I don’t have to explain, then.”

Letting out a huff of dark laughter, Jameson shook his head.

“Hmm. That is good.” Schneep scanned Jameson, taking in as many details he could in the faint light. “I...something about this time is...different. Than when he last took me.” He suppressed another shiver as he looked up towards the shadow passing back and forth on the ceiling. “I...am sorry you are here.”

Jameson scooted closer to him. He put one hand on Schneep’s shoulder and signed Sorry with his other. Neither of them should be here. Anti should never have interfered in their lives again.

Schneep let out a shaky breath, and leaned closer to Jameson until he was resting his weight against him. Jameson pressed his head against his. And together, they listened to the sound of their nightmare pacing and muttering, wondering what was next for them.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye au #septic egos #septic egos au #chase brody #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #jameson jackson #dr schneeplestein #brigid writes fanfiction #pwtimeline

17 notes · View notes