#i used to draw her with bandages for one reason but now i came up with an entirely different reason thatll change her design a bit lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

broodwolf221 · 8 months

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Idk if you’re still taking prompts but if you are then how about the dialogue prompt “Hold my hand for a second. It won’t kill you.” For Solas/Merrill?

took me a bitttt bc i got a Lot of prompts to work thru lmao but! some pre-relationship meet-cute stuff /u\ this was sooo fun fr @dadrunkwriting 1120 words cws: canon-typical violence; enemy death; blood

Hawke had come to the Inquisition, and had brought one of her friends. Varric had been excited to see the young Dalish, called her “Daisy.” Solas had thought that was her actual name for a time, only learning differently when Hawke had introduced her as Merrill. Although their Inquisitor was Dalish as well, he was on edge around the other elf, although he was intrigued by her staff. A mage, then...? Why would a Dalish mage be traveling with the Hero of Ferelden, coming out to Skyhold?

Hawke had arrived because she had apparently dealt with Corypheus before, along with Varric. This was news to Solas and he was frustrated by the lack of forewarning, although he supposed he couldn’t exactly blame his agents - Corypheus was not a known name, and they had apparently encountered him in some strange Grey Warden prison. And killed him, for whatever good it seemed to do.

Solas wished he had heard this story before he’d seen fit to provide Corypheus access to his orb, but there was little use mourning the past. For now he was accompanying the Inquisitor, Hawke, Merrill, and Varric to a cave in Crestwood, to meet with a Grey Warden. Things had seemed fairly typical until they came across a small group of bandits.

As he was settling into position and withdrawing his staff, he saw Merrill cut open her palm, her blood coiling around her staff before it shaped itself into thin, crimson projectiles, plunging straight through armor and skin alike. A blood mage.

He was not inherently opposed to blood magic of this nature, the use of one’s own blood, but he had not expected it from the delicate-looking young woman. During the battle his attention remained more on her than on their enemies and at one point he let someone get in too close, cursing under his breath as he tried to move away and give himself space to cast before hitting the stone wall. They were in a relatively narrow passageway that the bandits had clearly chose for just this reason.

He had drawn his staff protectively in front of his body, looking for an opening, when he heard Merrill call out and plunge the blade of her staff under the man’s raised arm, twisting as he cried out and fell, a spray of blood between them. But what struck Solas more than her capability and the violence was her battle-cry: “may the Dread Wolf take you!”

It made him feel horribly off-balance. Didn’t most Dalish call out to their “Creators”? Why would she call his name?

She frowned at him and he frowned back, wondering if he looked as uncomfortable as he felt, but then she rushed forward. “Solas, are you okay?”

Was he okay? What did she mean-

She placed her hand against his upper arm and he flinched, glancing down to see blood coursing freely down his arm and wicking into his sleeve. He stared at it for a moment, uncomprehending, before dropping his head back against the stone wall with a snarl. The bandit must’ve caught his arm as he fell. Shit.

“Solas is wounded!” She called out over her shoulder, grabbing his waist and opposite arm to encourage him to slide down the wall into a seated position. “It’s bleeding a lot. I don’t know if there are any potions left...” He noticed that she gnawed on her lower lip as she let her pack drop free, rummaging through it as everyone else approached. She gathered a roll of bandaging before drawing her knife. The blood on the handle reminded him that she was bleeding, too.

“Take care of yourself,” he said weakly and she huffed, glaring up at him for a moment before her expression softened.

“I am fine. You are losing too much blood.”

“Then use blood magic,” he shot back, teasing. But she tensed briefly, staring at the material of his shirt before lifting it to cut it away. He sighed - he’d have to replace that, and it was a comfortable tunic. Oh well.

“That’s not how it works,” she told him quietly and he winced, hearing the discomfort in her voice. He hadn’t meant to be cruel.

“It’s fine, Merrill,” he said, letting his eyes slip shut as she worked on bandaging his wound. “I was only teasing.” He once again felt her hands still on him and opened his eyes to find her staring up at him, wide-eyed and disbelieving. “Truly. I don’t mind. Just... make sure you bandage yourself soon, too.”

“I... yes. I will.” She resumed wrapping his arm. “Um... thank you.”

“Hm?”

“No one has ever been ‘fine’ with it. My magic.”

“Misunderstood...” he mused absently, still feeling a little weak from the blood loss. But the wound barely hurt - the blade must have been razor-sharp. “Is that why you call upon the Dread Wolf?” This time her pause was brief - apparently she was becoming accustomed to him. Or at least less surprised. The Inquisitor, Hawke, and Varric had been watching for some time but had drifted back to scouting out the area after Merrill made it obvious that she had this covered, so their conversation was as close to private as it could get out here.

“Fen’Harel? I...” She frowned, seemingly at a loss. “Perhaps so. Our legends tell of a trickster, a betrayer...” She shook her head, her expression tight with a deep pain. “But sometimes, people don’t recognize the truth. I am not sure what his truth is. Only that I have called upon him, and so far he has seen fit to spare me.” She tied off the bandaging and hummed to herself, apparently satisfied, before standing.

He rose a moment later and held out his hand. She glanced down at it, frowned, then met his eyes. “Give me the bandaging and your hand,” he said. She sighed, handing over the wrap, but clearly hesitant to offer her hand. He grinned, amused by her reserve here after having treated him. “Give me your hand, it won’t kill you.” She huffed but he noticed the edge of a smile pulling at her mouth as she placed her wounded hand in his.

He carefully wrapped it and tied it off. She pulled away to stare at the bandaging, then looked up at him, something curious and assessing in her gaze. After a moment she nodded to herself, seemingly satisfied. “Thank you, Solas.”

“And thank you, Merrill,” he said in turn, gesturing to his wrapped arm. She smiled in truth now, gathering her pack and slinging it back on before they caught up with the others.

He decided he’d want to speak with her more, when they were all back at Skyhold.

#dadw time #broodwrites #solas #merrill #solarrill #hehe

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beantothemax · 3 months

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Hey he.

Should mention that I am a disabled Yomiel truther‼️‼️ That man's legs are NOT the same after Temsik statue crushes them‼️‼️‼️‼️ it comes up briefly in the fic

For the first time in a while, things were going to be okay. Sissel had told him as much every single visit, but now it felt real. Now when he hugged her, he wore no uniform and they were beyond the prison walls. He was free.

There was no grand celebration of his freedom, no party or even a special dinner. Sissel cooked something cheap and they sat on the couch in silence for a good long while. Every visit had been full of words, so eager to say everything before their precious time was up. Now, they had what felt like all the time in the world.

"We should get married soon," Sissel murmured.

"Oh yeah?" Yomiel asked.

"Yeah. Just a small wedding with a few friends, nothing grand. I don't think either of us could handle a big party," she laughed.

He laughed too. Her smile was so pretty, her laugh so contagious it made him want to kiss her a thousand times over and marry her right then and there. That was what he missed most in prison, those tiny things that made Sissel out to be the most perfect woman in his eyes.

When they went to bed, Yomiel found he could not sleep. He held Sissel tight and she had fallen asleep quickly with a satisfied smile on her lips, so happy to be in his arms again, but he could not say the same.

No matter how hard he tried, the images of her grave kept returning. The words written on her final note playing over and over again in his head. Perhaps it was not Sissel that rested in his arms, but a foreign agent sent to pretend to be her in the real Sissel's absence. The idea that that cat's powers had truly erased everything and brought her back from the dead was too good to be true.

At that thought, he let go and hurried to the far corner of the bed, his gaze fixed on her sleeping figure as his breaths quickened.

She turned in her sleep, slurring each word spoken in her drowsy state, "Yomi? What're you doing?"

"Go back to sleep, I'm just getting some water," he whispered.

"K. I love you," she yawned.

He could not say the same.

When he stood, he all but stumbled to the he ground. That was the confirmation he needed that this was not some twisted fantasy Sith's men had created. It truly was another timeline where he could be hurt and Sissel lived. Those memories of Temsik park, of the statue that fell on him, were not false memories.

If it were not real, he would be able to walk unassisted. But he could not. He carefully stood once more, this time using his cane as he made his way to the bathroom.

He rummaged through the draws before sitting on the cold tiled floor, razor in hand. He hardly had doubts anymore, but they would return. When they did, this would be confirmation that he was freed from the Temsik meteor's curse.

Yomiel did not look at he pressed the blade to his arm and pulled. At first, nothing happened. He stared down at where he had cut with growing panic as it did not hurt or bleed. In a frenzy he cut one- two- three more lines!

Only at the fourth did it begin to sting. All at once, an ache came over his arm as red droplets began trickling from the slits. He hissed. He wanted to scream.

Why was he surprised that it hurt so much? He had felt worse pain before, a decade prior, and he had even gotten injured a handful of times in prison. Did he truly believe that he still had that meteor in his chest? That he could not be hurt? That it was not Sissel beside him, but a-

"Yomiel!" her voice cut through his thoughts.

There were no words to defend his actions. What good reason was there ever to hurt himself in such a way? To confirm his dear Sissel was really her? And admit he felt he could hardly trust his fiance?

Nothing seemed to make sense until she let go of him after holding him as tight as she could for gods know how long.

"I'm sorry," he breathed.

"It's okay, I'll put a bandage on this and we'll go back to bed, okay? We can talk about it in the morning, after you've slept," she whispered.

That sounded okay. He did not move as she so carefully put bandages on each cut. The pain was real and so were her gentle hands. It felt real when she helped him stand and held his hand while they walked back to bed together.

When they crawled back into bed and all Yomiel could do was mutter apologies until his voiced failed, Sissel said she forgave him. She pressed a kiss to his forehead before she fell asleep beside him. There was no doubt in his mind that she loved him.

#ow.#i can’t think of anything silly to say that was just.#ow..#that hurt #asks #pie-knight #inbox fic #ghost trick spoilers

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starlightlightning · 4 months

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OOC ask! do you remember your first, or one of the first headcanons you came up with for your character(s)?

yup!! ill go ahead and just go over the first headcanons i had for all my muses:

elesa: my very first headcanon for her was that she uses she/he pronouns and likes when people switch them up, but doesnt really fuss or care if people stick to one or the other. it's just elesa's gender expression and its whats comfortable for him. that ones still in use, though i'm still trying to figure out a good and organic way to switch between pronouns. hence why some threads i'll just use she/her, but some others i'll switch it up every paragraph or alternating reply.

volo: gold eyes. maybe its just because my brain fucked up and some wires got crossed, but i swore up and down that volo's eyes were gold. so now i just run with the headcanon that "arceus's curse gave him gold eyes bc of reasons" lol basically just me making an excuse to not have to recolor his eyes in every drawing i've done of him LOL

leon: transman. idk something about him just says "trans." obviously still sticks.

piers: former champion. another volo situation where my brain thought one thing and it turned out to be wrong. for the longest time i thought for SURE piers was the former champion in SWSH and after replaying it again, it just doesnt feel Right that he isn't. (theres a lot in SWSH that makes me feel that way tho but it's still my favorite game in the series). my piers muse is entirely based on this headcanon.

adaman: disabled with chronic pain/fatigue/hypermobility. like the other ones, this headcanon still sticks around. it just fit with the bandages and his whole kintsugi aesthetic he has for his outfit, it just makes the most sense. (also trans man)

#𝄞 ooc post #𝄞 fanmail #𝄞 headcanons #infernalpursuit

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omgkalyppso · 9 months

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🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies? 🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities? for any current favorite OC of yours :3c

Thank you for the ask!

🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies?

I read a fic recently where the author gave Enver Gortash the skill / hobby of sketching / art. The fic was a fun read, but I don't think Enver would draw his own porn (intentionally / for the purpose of release / tantalization). However, I really like the idea that he has a surprisingly neat and steady hand for art because of all his invention schematics (I'd also appreciate if someone gave him chicken scratch for The Same Reason, but I'm won over to the art for now).

I bring this up because I've been playing my evil dark urge Meabh who I ship with Enver and so they're both on my mind. I haven't shared screenshots because early game evil durge is depressing / would require so many cw's. So I blocked out a bunch of dialogue of Meabh finding what they think will be one of Enver's diaries, but instead it's this book of projects, either personal or half finished, mostly equations and technical drawings but also including a bunch of toys and tools that have sexual purpose. Meabh doesn't find this out (yet) though because he takes it away to instead return to her, her own book of art, and that this is more gorey, but technically comparable, drawings of creatures that come from corpses which would have Balthazar salivating, of bodies and blood - but theirs would be the one that would have pages dedicated to sexual titillation, including pages that feature her lover - especially in ways she would never injure him. So there's that shared, but private hobby. He only looked in Meabh's book when he thought they had died.

I'm calling gymnastics another of Meabh's hobbies. Always fun when your rogue can contort real small or climb a building like an aerial dancer.

Their third hobby can be knife collecting.

🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities?

So I'm probably incapable of writing a character who doesn't have adhd and / or autism, so many many of my oc's and their partners will at least have one of these disorders. Which means I will not elaborate. If you suspect it, it's probably true. Sometimes it's intentional. Most times it is tbh.

My ffxiv wol Sawyer is mute. My ffxiv oc Sybille translates sign language for most of their communication with npc's who are less practised with the method of communication. Sybille also needs glasses for near-sightedness.

My fe3h oc Faedolyn has a congenital heart defect in au's to honor the canon of a magical heart transplant at birth. You can Just see scars for this in some art of them (it is Very Hard to notice because I didn't use black lines to outline it. It's just a pink / purple line on their chest): Here and Here. And it came up in my fic Just Go With It.

My dragon age oc, like many people's, Samaire Cadash is missing her left arm.

My bg3 oc's ... well there are some who have the durge condition. What are people calling that? OCD + C-PTSD? Orboloth is also missing his right eye (using a white eye to signify this).

My fe3h oc (one of Claude's sisters) Asmaa walks with a cane and was born with some spinal issue. My fe3h oc (Rodrigue's wife / Felix's mother) Eugénie is missing her right eye. My fe3h oc (Claude x Fae fankid) Simon was also born with a spinal issue and it affects his balance / how much weight he can lift but not much else of his life thus far, he also requires glasses for near-sightedness.

I have a nerve injury in my left foot and have been meaning to give someone the same, but I don't remember if I have? (Sometimes the pain is so bad I want an oc who's had their foot amputated entirely who uses a prosthetic).

Not going to list more glasses users but there's a bunch.

#gore #ask to tag #oc tag: meabh

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voids-colourful-creations · 2 years

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Patch Up - A Nemona & Miriam Fic

[Read on Ao3!]

Rated: T Pokémon Scarlet and Violet Nemona and Miriam (Platonic) Content Warnings: Injury, Medical Setting, Recklessness Words: 2389

Summary: Yet again, Nemona has wound up in the Nurse's Office after training recklessly. Neither Miriam nor Nemona are particularly happy about this, not that they'd let it show.

The sunset filtered in through the curtains, soaking the Nurse's Office in soft rosy pinks. It was quiet, most students had long since packed up and headed back to dorms or out for dinner. The gentle warm air resonated, a softer breeze through the opening in the window.

Nurse Miriam busied herself with the normal things, tidying and reorganising. For a nurse’s office, it’s more of a hodge podge than standard. She’s fine with this, heaven knows she’s not really a standard nurse. If she had her way she soon wouldn’t be a nurse full stop, but retests for the health teacher certification exams were still a ways off.

Still, if this was her position for now, she’d make it hers. Even as she was still clamouring her way forward, she held a soft spot for most of the students she helped, for the small comfort she could bring.

They weren’t her students, per-say, not in the ways that Saguaro could claim that Arven was his student, that Tyme knew Penny was hers.

Still, there were the troublemakers, weren't there? The same kids who end up battered in one way or another winding up here all the same. Likewise, the kids who draw themselves in here frequently. Miriam took note of those students too, though she made a habit of not bothering them about their reasoning for stopping by. No more than necessary at least.

Nurse Miriam tidied up her books and put them on her shelf, shuffled the plush around to clean down the dresser. It was quiet, as it should be.

She moved over, pulling the bed curtain out to shake out the dust settling on the ends. The beds still needed their sheets pulled off and to be washed, though they’ve hardly seen any use today. Nurse Miriam took hold of one end and yanked, pulling everything towards her in a single clean motion.

Nearly done with the days cleaning now, on time no less.

So, of course. There it was.

The gentle creak of the door opening only slightly. Quiet footsteps, the kind that landed lightly to disguise themselves. Miriam was accustomed to that sound by now, the hesitation that made each step land a bit late. The hinges on the door were still squeaky despite her numerous complaints to Clavell.

Nurse Miriam peered around the curtain out of the corner of her eye, still folding up the sheet she’d grabbed.

Only poking her head in, was Nemona, scanning around the room. Miriam’s most frustrating student, so to speak.

She didn’t see Miriam, and slowly proceeded inwards.

“Hey, Nemona, come on in.”

Nurse Miriam said as she stepped out from behind the curtain. She held the folded sheet against her chest, walking it over to the table.

Nemona startled, whipping around to face Miriam. It was a bad look on her, that nervous expression. The way she seemed to shrink back momentarily, just for a split second.

She hid it quickly, a smile and a laugh bubbling up in its place.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there, haha!” Nemona giggled, clasping her hands together.

The response only made Miriam more uneasy, though that was nothing new.

“Can I help you with something?” Nurse Miriam asked. It was forceful, more so than her typical presentation.

Nemona sheepishly brushed her hand against the back of her neck. She lingered in the doorway, hesitant to cross the threshold even as she made conversation.

“It’s nothing! Just wanted to see if I could grab some bandages to patch myself up, training with Sliggoo went a bit haywire! The school store didn’t have any at the moment, haha.”

Nemona was good at hiding things; she didn’t lean on the door, didn’t betray much. Miriam, however, was well trained in observing students.

Her stance was off, her words came out just a bit breathy. More than usual for Nemona, even.

“Oh, don’t worry ‘bout that!” Nurse Miriam smiled, “Just sit, let me have a look.”

Nemona lingered in the doorway a moment longer.

“Alright then!”

Nemona carefully made her way across the room, walking around the carpet and hopping up onto the bed closest to the window, sliding her shoes off as she went.

Nurse Miriam followed, observing quietly. Watched Nemona favour her right leg, not quite limping but certainly not walking correctly.

Once Nemona was seated, Miriam was able to get a glimpse of the gauze wrapped wound just below Nemona’s knee. Despite the bandages, scraps of fabric still peel away, clearly having been ripped apart.

“It looks a lot worse than it is!” Nemona remarked, kicking her leg out a bit as if to prove her point.

“Your poor leggings have certainly seen better days…” Miriam commented idly to herself.

Nemona seemed to curl in on herself slightly with that remark, and Miriam didn’t like the look of it. Her gaze ended up transfixed on the window, watching the sun dip down into the crater. Those gentle pinks washed over her eyes, glazed and away.

Miriam wondered who hated Nemona being in the nurse’s office more, her or Nemona.

“Alright then! I’m going to undo these bandages, not that you didn’t do a good job with them. Although, since they’re already torn so badly, do you mind if I cut a bit of a hole in your leggings around where you’ve scraped yourself? So I can get a better look at things.”

Nemona only blinked for a moment.

“Unless you’d like to take them off behind the curtain over there?” Nurse Miriam added. “There’s spare fall uniform shorts for you to change into if you’d like.”

That wasn’t standard practice, and both of them knew it. Typically she’d just tell someone to go clean themselves off first, come back in a moment in something more comfortable if they’d prefer.

However, Miriam got the feeling that if she let Nemona run off she wouldn’t see her again for a while yet.

“Either way is fine, I just need a better look at this leg, gotchaaa?”

Nemona hesitated, then nodded slowly.

“You can cut ‘em.”

Using the spare scissors fished from her pocket, Miriam carefully cut through the dark fabric. It was good quality, cut remarkably cleanly. Even with the still drying blood stains, the fabric shimmered a bit in the light. Carefully untying stained bandaging; eventually she was able to see the state of things.

It was a sizable gash, longer than it was wide but deep enough for the quick gauze job to already be dampened.

Miriam hummed, quietly assessing the injury. It wasn’t good, but hardly lethal. It’d heal good as new in time. More than anything, she was concerned with cleanliness. Training was one thing, training poison type moves was another. Even without that, there was enough mud staining the rest of Nemona’s leggings that Miriam was concerned.

“Mmmm, I’m going to apply some disinfectant on this, ‘kay?”

Nurse Miriam pushed herself to standing, taking a quick glance at Nemona as she crossed the room to the cabinet. Nemona didn’t respond, still seemingly lost in thought.

Miriam sighed, tearing her gaze away to fiddle with the sticky latch that held the cabinet closed.

Frustrating, always frustrating when Nemona wound up in the Nurse’s Office.

If Arven’s perfect Home Ec attendance– Saguaro’s highest source of pride and bragging rights in the lunchroom– made him Saguaro's top student, then surely it had to be reversed for Miriam.

Pulling out the bottle of disinfectant and an Eevee patterned cloth with one hand, Miriam swung the cabinet door shut with the other. It was a forceful, heavy slam, the cabinet never closed quite right unless she shoved it.

Nemona was still staring out the window as Miriam made her way back over.

“Okaaay,” Nurse Miriam called lightly as she bent down. With her free hand she tapped Nemona’s knee, bringing her attention back over. “You ready? This is prooobably gonna sting a bit, so let me know when it hurts, kay?”

“Alright!” Nemona chirped back.

She was awfully cheery. Just awful. Not that Miriam had much room to talk, but at least she was cheery for a reason .

It didn’t do well for a nurse to be overly harsh, scared, much of anything negative really. It didn’t matter how frustrating it was to fail the same exams over and over. It didn’t matter how draining it was to keep a smiling face up for every student who walked through the door. A nervous nurse sparked nothing but anxiety, an annoyed one nothing but added discomfort.

All part of the role, really. It suited Miriam in most ways, to wear energetic expressions and mannerisms along with her coat and stethoscope.

She didn’t like how accustomed Nemona appeared to be doing the same.

Miriam started slowly pressing the dampened cloth to Nemona’s leg. Same as always, light at first, progressively applying more and more.

She kept an ear out, listening for a protest that never came.

Much later than she was expecting a sharp breath was drawn, and she pulled the rag away.

Tears were pricking the edges of Nemona’s eyes slightly, but her expression remained composed. If Miriam looked closely, she could just see the edge of Nemona’s tongue poking through Nemona’s toothy smile. Bitten down to keep herself quiet.

“Ah-ah,” Nurse Miriam chided slightly, “Didn’t I tell you to let me know when it hurt?”

Nemona shrugged, still smiling.

“It was alright! I can take it, it’s not a problem.”

Yes, Miriam didn’t like the way Nemona talked. Not in the slightest.

“Heeey, that’s not what I asked! You gotta lemme know sooner, okay? Not a good look on me, yanno? What sort of nurse goes around hurting her patients, mm? Tell me next time, alright?”

Nemona nodded, but Miriam didn’t believe her for a second. Frustrating, as always.

Gently, overly so, Nurse Miriam finished cleaning up the wound. The leggings were long past salvageable, but without the fabric clinging to half clotting blood the injury didn’t look half as bad.

“Alright, time to wrap it all up again and you’ll be on your way!”

Nemona only hummed in reply, gaze focused out the window again.

Partially, Miriam was glad she was somewhat distracted. It was much easier when the students weren’t freaking out; it made the work a lot simpler.

It only ever seemed to make her uneasy though, when it was Nemona. Her nonchalance, odd reactions. Again, not a lethal injury, not by far, but certainly deep and gritty enough that Miriam would’ve expected students far older to be sobbing. Nemona however, almost seemed like she was trying to prevent that at every turn.

“How’s your arm been recently?” Miriam asked in way of small talk, quietly winding the gauze around Nemona’s leg.

“Good!” Nemona said, which Miriam took to mean “ Not worse.” at best and “Not bad enough to complain.” At worst. Knowing Nemona, “bad enough to complain” was a pretty high bar to clear.

Miriam didn’t ask much more, she knew she wouldn’t get anything out of it. She could push, she could pull back, regardless it was the same. Such a stubborn girl.

Instead of inquiring further, Miriam tightened the bandages, then stood with the same smile she’d worn for years.

“Here ya go! Good as new.”

Nemona flexed her leg gently, and seemingly finding it satisfactory, hopped down from the bed.

The pink sunset washed through the curtains and soaked Nemona’s face in it. The hues caught on the edges of her hair, almost as if they were set ablaze. And surely, Miriam knew, if Nemona ever did catch fire, she’d stand there grinning just the same as now.

“Thanks, Ms. Mimi!” Nemona replied.

Miriam sighed lightly at the use of the nickname, but let it slide.

“It’s what I’m here for! You can be on your way now, unless you’d like to hang around.”

Nemona shook her head and began to head for the door. She still favoured her freshly bandaged leg slightly.

“Ah- before you go, don’t forget to take this, alright?”

Nurse Miriam quickly darted across the room to retrieve a piece of paper off her desk and pressed it into Nemona’s arms.

“It’s the medical disclaimer form, alright? The one you get your parents to sign to acknowledge you’ve visited the nurse in the past month and that they’re aware you needed to visit the nurse. Bring it back to me quickly, alright?”

Nemona grinned, waving the form back and forth as she headed out.

“Yeah, I know! Don’t worry, I’ll get ‘em to sign it when they get back from their trip this weekend!”

Her ponytail bobbed behind her, and Miriam watched her from the doorway.

The sentence hovered on the tip of her tongue for a moment before she let it spill out.

“Oh and- Nemona?”

Nemona turned her head, position frozen as she walked. She hovered in place, only for a moment.

“Yeah?”

Miriam locked eyes with Nemona for only a split second, staring her down as she spoke.

“Go easier on yourself, alright?”

And Nemona blinked, clutched the form in her hand just the slightest bit tighter. That shocked expression that doesn’t suit her was washed onto her face.

“Ahaha! Sure, I will!”

That same expression, swept away like the tide. Nemona waved, smile ever persisting, and proceeded off down the hall.

Miriam watched her go, lingered in the doorway longer than she should’ve.

Back to tidying then, to put the disinfectant away, gather the sheets for washing. She was exhausted, but at least her day was nearly done.

Go easier on yourself, she’d said.

Miriam jammed the sheets into the basket and tossed it next to the door. Leaning over the desk, she scrawled a quick note, nothing much more than a summary of the last few minutes, then yanked a thick folder off the shelf.

Several medical records, more than a dozen blank signature forms, and a smiling freckled face that Miriam has gotten so sick of seeing.

Don’t worry, she said, I will , she said.

Same as every other time before that.

Nurse Miriam filed the note away into an ever growing stack, placing the folder back in its place.

With a deep breath, she stood, stretched, and walked out of the Nurse’s office.

Don’t worry, she’d said.

“Well,” Miriam muttered, “Someone has to.”

[End]

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lordfreg · 2 years

Note

HEY GIRLIE POP I SAW UR NOT FEELING GOOD/SICK so I decided to make you a little oneshot to help you feel better! :D

WARNINGS: Mostly silly lil bits of fluff- but it does get slightly suggestive toward the end- but nothing explicit shown!

Imori hated being trapped. She hated the chanting of the crowd, constantly hearing it almost triggered a painful headache every time.

The loop of watching a poor mutilated animal be tortured rather than put out of its misery in its Kranngy prison, the pathetic attempt on the commentator trying to keep the audience hooked on his endless chatting every round. She hated it, and yet she had no way to leave it. The only reason she chose not to leave wasn't even battling in the rink at the moment.

So here she was, sitting above in the booth with her sisters, watching as some Yokai battled against what Imori assumed was a giant snake of sorts. Her eyes slowly blinked away boredom, her chin resting atop her hand with the permanent look of displeasure on her face - causing her sister's to catch notice.

"What's got you looking so blue, Ima?" Her blue scaled sister questioned with a coo, poking her sisters head curiously. She was ignored in return, of course, making her huff.

"Come on, Ima, don't be such a pouty puss." The eldest of them all responded, her tanned scaled hand coming down onto Imori's head, rubbing it like one would do if they had hair.

Imori was quick to roll off her stomach where she lay, swatting away her sisters hand whilst doing so. "I'm nothing of the sort." She stated, folding her arms as she straightened her posture. Her sister rolled her eyes in return, placing her clawed hands in her hips.

"You can hide that somethings on your mind from us, Ima, you won't win." Her sister sang, causing her to glare darkly, turning away from them to watch the battle she had little interest in.

The three sisters exchanged glances behind her. Rather, it be concern, or annoyance, Imori could sense them, making her hold on her arms tighten ever so slightly, furrowing her brows.

She knew they meant to harm. It was all playful or worry, but it didn't help her feelings - it just made her feel worse. Weak, helpless, and Imori was anything but that. She spent her whole making sure she didn't appear that way to anyone, and she'd keep that image up as long as she could... It's what she had to do - what she wanted... Right?

"Good evening, ladies." The familiar voice came, catching all the attention of the girls inside the booth, immediately turning around.

The curtains flew open to reveal David, now wearing his more casual clothes, that being a plain white tanktop with tight fitting jeans. He wore his plum colored bandana to keep his chocolate curls out of his face and wore additional sunglasses over his brown eyes.

"Hi David!" Imori's sisters chanted in unison, earning a few giggles and shy glances in his direction as he stood in between the open curtains with a smirk, fixing the bandages on his arms. Imori couldn't see, but she could tell he had a prideful brow quirked- she could just smack him.

"Just stopping by to say hi?" Imori's sister asked, checking her Grey spikes on her face as if it were hair that needed to be tamed. "We were just thinking about you, actually." She flirted.

Imori's tail flicked back and forth in irritation, trying desperately to ignore the attention her sisters were practically drawing David in and the burning sensation of eyes on her body as well.

"Mhm. Actually, I'm here to pick someone up." He responded coolly, placing his arm against the wall with his other on his hip, tilting his glasses on his nose to show his eyes on Imori.

The sounds of realization that came from Imoris sisters caused her face to burn hot, closing her eyes as she wished for one of David's uncles portals to open up underneath her and put her in Antarctica or something.

"Well, why didn't you say so? Our little sis needs some time out of here. She's getting real cranky." The blue Gecko chimed, wrapping an arm around her sister, who grunted in alarm - the action causing her to lock eyes with David finally - the one she tried so hard to avoid eye contact with.

"I don't want to go anywhere." Imori bluntly said, turning her snout up at David, turning away as she folded her arms once more.

Her sisters whined in protest, of course. "Oh, come on, Ima! You're turning down a night spent with him? You're a mad lizard!"

"If you don't want him, I'll take him."

"I second that~!"

You could almost feel the anger begin to heat up the room, just coming off of Imori as her posture tightened and her knees bobbed impatiently from her criss cross position on the floor.

"Don't worry, girls," David finally spoke, stepping fully into the booth, earing a very hard and wary sideye from Imori. "I know how to get her out of this booth."

If you'd think he meant that in any meaningful way, like he'd move her with words or affection- you'd be incorrect, Davud was a romantic, but he wasn't a hopeless one- he was the stubborn kind.

In one swift motion, before Imori could even register Davud stepping to her side, he grabbed her sides quickly, causing her to shout.

"What are you- Let me go this instant!" She shrieked, her voice getting a higher octave. Davud ignored the kicks and squeals- rather it be Imori or her sisters happily and laughing at their poor sisters' situation.

He hummed content, hoisting her into a position over his shoulder, holding the back of her legs down to stop her kicks- not minding the hits to his back from her hands as he gave a nod to her sisters. "I'll see you three around?" He questioned, using his unoccupied hand to fix his glasses back up on his face.

"If there's a chance you'll do that to me? Absolutely." Imrois tanned scaled sister teased, fanning herself jokingly. "Have her back by midnight!" She spoke, giving a sickly sweet smile and wave.

"I don't make promises I won't keep." David responded, turning with a curt hand salute before turning away and walking out, causing Imori to face her sisters once more, giving a kind middle finger to them before the curtains were shut and she was out of sight.

---- "You're pathetic attempt of 'kidnapping' me isn't as charming as you think it is, just so you know." Imori broke the silence that hung in the hall. David was currently walking her down. In return, she git a mocking laugh.

"She talks." David sassed. "If that's the case, how come I heard your giggles in the whole fit of them earlier, hm?" He pointed, feeling Imori freeze, quickly getting quiet once more, causing him to let out a satisfied hum.

"You- don't know what you're talking about, I bet you didn't even hear them... If I was giggling anyway!" She added quickly, ignoring the churning in her stomach.

"Oh, don't go getting your tail in a twist." David rolled his eyes, pinching a bit of Imori's tail and earning a flustered squeak from the Gecko at the sudden sharp sensation.

"I know you enough to hear your voice a mile away since, ya know, it's rare to even hear to talk." He quipped, earning a harsh hit to his lower back, making him grin stupidly.

-- The echoed clanging of David's boots against the metal stairs filled the silence that filled the room quickly, every step they took, it danwed on Imori that they were headed to the top of the broken hotel, making her wiggle a bit to try and be free of David's hold. "I can walk by myself, you know?" She spat.

"Hold your horses, princess, you can wait till we get to the top." David responded simply, giving a few harsh pats to her ass.

"Would you mind easing off the attacks to my backside, please?" She whispered harshly, her face turning a dark shade as she looked around if anyone could be watching.

"You haven't made any complaints till now, but I guess." He rolled his eyes playfully, grabbing the door hand that led outside to the rooftop, being met with the setting sun outside.

The evening air let Imori know they had made it outside, looking around to see the desolate rooftop, looking over the wasteland kf destroyed and abandoned buildings, the dark pink and magenta sky reflecting off the glass of fallen skyscrapers.

For some strange reason, it was almost considered beautiful. It'd been a while since she could see a peaceful sunset... And she now realized why David went through all the trouble of dragging her stubborn self out here.

She yelped just a bit as she was slid off of David's shoulder, feeling his firm grip on her waist as he set her down. She stood a few inches away from him, her hands placed against his chest while his still laid against her sides, holding them much more gently now.

She fought, looking up at him, staring at his collarbone and the dark chekcered markings that adorned it. She bit her lip nervously, playing with the chain necklace around his neck.

"Are you in a better mood now?" He whispered, sliding hid hands up to her back. She slowly nodded, freeing down at her feet with a pout imminent on her face.

He smiled fondly in return, pulling away and taking her hand into his, tugging herover to the ledge of the building. "Come on, then, don't wanna miss what I carried you all the way up those flight of stairs for."

She followed behind quickly, taking a seat right next to David upon the ledge, where he had patted his hand against. She sat awkwardly, not wanting to be touching David if he didn't want it, but she was also at the disadvantage of being so close to him, their shoulders barely brushing.

David noticed, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her against his side as he scoffed a bit. "I won't bite you, babe," he spoke, giving her a small glance. "Unless you're wanting to go somewhere more private for that kinda thing -"

She smacked his chest harshly, burying her face into the crook of his neck as he snickered to himself. "You're a mad man, Hamato." She snipped.

"Madly in love with you." He responded, stroking his thumb against her hip with a sly grin. He awaited some kind of answer, whether it be a scoff or another hut, but he got nothing, making him take a second to look down at where Imori had hidden her face.

She pued herself away for a second, a lost in thought look on her face as her eyes were lost on something else, looking at anywhere but his face. She finally did look at him, but he couldn't read her expression as anything happy.

"Why... Why say that?" She asked quietly. "You know that word has a strong meaning. You shouldn't just be saying it to some- someone like me."

David was taken aback for a second, blinking in surprise for a moment, sharing the same expression she did, watching as she held firm, awaiting an answer sooner or later.

He slowly turned his head back to look out, giving a small shrug as he opened his mouth to say something, but he continually closed it, unsure of what to say. That seemed to be Imoris answer, feeling her heart ache for some reason. She assumed there'd be more meaning to what he had to say, whether that be cruel words of him not meaning anything or thoughtful loving ones, explaining what the words meant to him, and why he'd use them for her.

She looked back out with him, fighting any feeling in her wanting to question him more, ask if that truly was it, all he had to say- no, he didn't even say anything at all!

"Well, I guess it's the same thing I told your sisters." David finally said, making her cock her head back in confusion, looking to him again. "I don't make promises I won't keep."

"But... You never promised you loved me?" She questioned, all be just a bit hurt, hugging her stomach unsurely as it kept churning with every confusing statement that left David's mouth.

"But I promised I'd win your hand one day, didn't I?" He responded, still looking out to the view before them, a peaceful expression across his face as he held a small smile.

Imori had never seen him looking so... Calm. Whenever he was neutral or quiet, he always had some sort of scowl or resting bitchface, but he was really at peace for once now, he almost looked... Happy.

"I... I suppose you did." Imori hummed, her hands falling into her lap. She bit her tongue, swallowing down the lump forming in her throat. "But- but those are just words." She tried to affirm, cupping her hands together.

Her breath got caught in her throat for a moment when she fel David's hand leave her hip and find its way to her chin, using his fingers to tilt her head and and turn to look at him.

She could pracitcally hear her heart pounded against her ribcage as David studied her with half lidded eyes. David felt how hot her face suddenly became a breathy chuckle escaping.

"Didn't you hear me earlier?" He whispered, his voice lowering as he flicked her forehead jokingly, causing her to flinch back, sneering at him.

"Alright then- I won't doubt these 'promises' ." She growled, rubbing her forehead with a small hiss as the pain ceased. "I suppose... Life here isn't as unbearable... If I'm stuck with you." She said it so quiet David almost didn't hear her, eyes widening slightly as he simply stared into her dark orange eyes, watching as her pupils dilated slowly, her hands wrapping around the wrist of his hand that held her chin.

She watched him carefully, taking note of his features, his brows creasing together as his mouth opened slightly. Something was on his mind, or he was thinking something... She wasn't sure which one to be nervous about.

"What if we don't have to be trapped?" He finally spoke, never breaking eye contact as his hand left her chin, causing Imori to slowly draw her hands back in confusion. She gave a slow shake of the head, showing she didn't understand what he meant.

David's demeanor brightened, it almost beat the setting sun's glow, his eyes gleaming with some kind of determination as he quickly to her hands into his much larger ones.

"Run away with me."

Imori found her mouth falling open, but no words came out. She could only stare flabbergasted at David, who had the most serious look about his sudden idea. When she finally stopped her running mind, being able to think full sentences, all she could manage out was: "What?" Breathelessy.

"I mean it," David paused, shifting in his seat to face her fully, holding their hands up in front of them both. "I want to leave this hell hole, and I want leave with you." He locked their hands together slowly, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand softly, as a nervous mechanism Imori had noted much earlier in their relationship.

"I never had a reason to leave before. Maggie is happy here, and she's protected. My brothers and older sister could come see me, and my mother is well- I felt everyone was... Better off, happy... I wasn't."

Imori swallowed thickly, shifting to face him like he did her, looking down at their now intertwined hands.

"But then I met you. I met one of the greatest parts of my day to see- sure you beat my ass constantly, even when we're not in the rink but that last part is debatable," he said, shrugging off the last words of his statement.

"But you're my spitfire, and I want to spend every last second of my time spent here, with you."

"B-but, what about my sisters?" She asked unsurely, turning to the door that led inside, back to that place, the world she was trapped in- that prison that made everyday feel like a loop in the matrix.

"I already asked them. They told me if it made you happy... Are you happy?" David's joyful demeanor faltered for a moment, his hold on her hands tightening anxiously, his smile fading slowly as she still had yet to look back at him. "Do you want to do this?" He leaned in a bit, feeling his heart almost skip a beat- not in the good way, however, he felt some unwanted dread begin to flood his senses... But he knew no matter her answer was, he had to be ready- even if it was the worse.

What he wasn't ready for however, was when Imori faced him once more, a large smile on her face, a glossy look in her eyes as she showed her teeth in a big grin.

"Yes! Yes I will!" She suddenly leapt at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. David was of course, taken aback by the sudden 'attack', wrapping his arms around her waist tightly as he stumbled off the ledge- thankfully onto the safest side, still on the building and hitting the harsh cement ground.

He would've been bothered by the pain on his back and shoulder if he wasn't caught up in the harsh kiss that Imori had initiated, crashing her lips into his with a still tight hold around his neck to keep him there.

David gladly recuperated the kiss, slowly closing his eyes happily- not at all bothered by the messy kiss he was stuck in.

Once they had pulled away, he smirked mischievously, quirking a brow. "There she is," he bit his lip. "My spitfire."

Imori rolled her eyes in return, grabbing the sides of his face and sticking her tongue out teasingly. "It's better that babe." She sighed, slowly leaning in for another kiss.

"I'm in the mood for other things rather than pushing you to beating me up." David responded, placing his hand to the back of her head, craving her neck in a more comfortable kissing position.

"And what might that be?"

"I think you know what."

"Maybe you should show me an example..."

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I FUCKING LOVE IT AHHHHHHHHHH THIS RAISED ME FROM THE DEAD I SWEAR THIS IS NOW MY LIFE LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO ME HOW ARE YOU EVEN MY FRIEND YOU’RE MY FAVORITE PERSON RIGHT NOW YOU’RE AWESOME AND AMAZING AND AHHHHHHHHHHH

all i could think was “mARRY ME JUILET YOU’RE NEVER BE ALONE AGAIN😭😭” and I love it so much guhwAAHHHHH

I am EATING THIS . lunch dinner bREAKFATS !!! I CONSUME NOW RAHHHHHHH

I was going like “😳😳😳😳😨😨😨🤩🤩🤩😚😚😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰” the entire time I just love when you wRITE AHHHH GRAHHHHH ANSJAJDJIEIJWIUDTEUKWKHDHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHE JIIJCV

*slicks back hair* sorry, almost lost myself there.😼 anyway, my brother specifically asked that I draw more lizard girls so that’s what I’m gonna do, most DEFINITELY going to draw a scene from this!!!

favorite part is when he just throws her over his shoulder like a potato sack. Gave me so many shrek vibes and tbh that’s kinda their relationship grahhhh

I LOVE IT VERY MUCH AND I AM PINNING THE LINK IN MY HEART FOREVER THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE IT AHHHH

#rottmnt oc #rottmnt oc x oc #rottmnt next generation #rottmnt

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freddie-foxs · 1 year

Text

Of Irland, Chapter 12

Chapter 1 \\ Chapter 11 \\ Series Masterlist

Instead of being taken captive in Winchester, Stiorra leaves for Irland with a friend of her father’s. There she meets Sigtryggr, a Dane, the grandson of Ivar the Boneless.

Chapter 12: Stabbed 100,000 Times

Chapter warnings: Language, needles Words: 4006 AO3

The ale helped a little, but Stiorra could still feel every prick of the needle, every scratch. She could not help but wince again and the sting reached her lower back, the front already dulling to an ache.

“Not too much more now,” Drifa reassured, not that Stiorra could tell how much more there was to do, not being able to turn her head all the way around to view her back.

What possessed her into this, she did not know. Her father had done this, so had Sihtric. And others as well, not that she’d met many other Danes.

But the sting.

Nope, she was not going to dwell. It was too late to change her mind now. Perhaps she could call this the first decision she had made as a Dane.

But it still hurt.

Stiorra tried to distract herself with the letter that she held. A letter from Sigtryggr. . She had been surprised and confused on receiving it, not expecting him to be able to read and write. She had read it so many times now that she practically knew it by heart

My Lady, Stiorra,

I know what you will say, receiving this. To answer your question, yes, I can read and write. Drifa ensured it. Although, I will admit, it has been a long time since I have done either. There is no-one here I can write too or practise with. Other than the priests, but, all their books are Christian texts.

Stiorra, I believe you are trustworthy, and so I hope that I have not made a mistake here in trusting you. I do not write with good news. I write to warn you to stay away from Ivar. You already know that he is nor a good man. But, after this recent battle, I have reason to suspect that your life, or at least your dignity may be in danger. He has killed yet another wife, and raped someone else’s. I do not want their fate to be yours. Ask Drifa for a weapon, not something big. Perhaps a seax or a knife. I want you to carry it with you at all times.

I believe we will return soon, and so I do not expect a reply. Just know that you have a friend here in Irland.

I will see you soon,

Your friend,

Sigtryggr

Stiorra sighed, then grimaced as she felt the needle lowered again. ‘Stay away from Ivar’ he said. Seemed easy enough.

My Lady he called her. His lady. And to say that he believed them to be friends. A jolt of fear went through Stiorra, or was it just the needle. If he knew who she was… who her father was.

Drifa lifted the needle for the last time, and Stiorra felt nothing more than relief. The seer carefully wiped her back free of blood and gently helped her to sit up. Stiorra was stiff from lying on that table for so long. She ached all over. Her stomach growled.

“Come,” Drifa said, holding out her hand. “Let us go to the Great Hall and eat. I imagine the warriors will be back by now.”

Stiorra’s heart gave a leap. They were back? Already?

She allowed Drifa to lead her to the hall. The first thing she saw when she stepped inside was… him. He was sat there, at the high table. His lips curved into a gentle smile. His eyes found hers and his smile only widened. Stiorra thought her heart would fly across the room with how fast it beat. Her feet moved of their own accord, led by the racing of her heart. She did not know what was happening to her. She could only feel glad that he seemed unhurt, and happy to see her, perhaps.

As she approached the table, she saw a clean linen bandage wound around his left forearm. Her smile faded slightly. Oh, so not entirely unhurt. The bandage was not stained, though. At least that was something.

He stood as she came up the steps, drawing her chair back and inviting her to sit beside him. Ivar sat in his usual place, a whore on his lap. Rognvaldr had two. Stiorra did her best to ignore them as she sat down, slowly, on account of the pain.

“Are you alright?” he asked her. She looked at him. His brow was wrinkled in concern. Stiorra did not want him fussing over her, so she smiled and told him that she was fine.

Before she could talk to him further, Drifa had stood up to make a toast.

“A toast! To my greatest enemies, who practically shoved me in the poop!” Stiorra laughed. So did everyone else. She felt her breath catch when she heard Sigtryggr chuckling along.

“How did she get shoved in poop?” Stiorra asked, leaning over so Sigtryggr could hear over the raucous laughter that echoed around the room.

He waved her question aside. “She’ll kill me if I tell you.” Stiorra figured she must hear it soon enough.

The noise died down a little. Most of the men were still tired after the battles and the ride, and only wished to spend the night with their families. But Sigtryggr was more than happy to talk to Stiorra and keep her company. Sometimes it felt like he was the only friend she had in this dangerous place.

Stiorra had been pushed around, almost raped, and had felt unsafe since she arrived here in Dyflin. But she would not exchange it for the warmth and peace of Coccham. Dyflin was a busy place. Threats assaulted from all angles. Coccham was calm. The only excitement being the occasional trader or Finan being caught with the wrong woman. It was a quiet life, and one Stiorra did not desire. She wanted a life like her father’s, filled with adventure. Perhaps even romance. Talking and being around Sigtryggr filled her with a spark, like he unlocked some secret safe inside her and filled her with happiness.

“Are you feeling better?” he inquired, snapping her out of her reverie.

“Oh, yes, much better.” He nodded and smiled, seemingly pleased to know that she was healed. Was he worried about her? Had he spent the entirety of the battles he’d just returned from wondering if she was alright?

“Did you get my letter?”

Letter? Oh, yes, the letter. It was like he made her forget important things, just by looking at the way he was right now.

“Yes, I got it,” she assured him. “I did not expect you to have been educated like that. Who taught you?”

“A priest. Drifa made sure Ivar did not kill him.” He sighed, heavily. “Once Drifa recalled her men, Ivar had the priest killed.”

Stiorra almost snorted. Typical of Ivar. She’d only been here few months and already she could clearly see how Ivar’s stupidity would one day get him killed.

The remainder of the feast was spent in small talk. Sigtryggr was tired and went to bed early. Drifa was probably passed out drunk. So were the rest of her men. Although it seemed Asvard still had one more drink in him as he could be seen struggling to down one last gulp of ale.

With no-one to talk to, Stiorra decided to make her way up to bed.

***

Sleep did not come easy. Partly because Ivar and Rognvaldr seemed invested in their women tonight. The thumping and moaning proved an inelegant symphony to Stiorra’s ears. It was mostly Rognvaldr, since his room was right next to hers. She tossed and turned for some time, even putting her pillow over her ears. But it did not help.

The noises stopped for a moment, and Stiorra heard two men conversing. She ignored it, thinking it did not concern her.

There was a quiet knock on her door. Stiorra shot up in bed and quietly padded to the door. She picked up her knife from the table and held it tightly in her hand. Upon opening the door, she saw there was no danger. It was only Sigtryggr.

She opened the door wider when she saw who it was. His brow furrowed and he titled his head when he saw the knife, but he shook it off and entered.

That is when her eyes widened. He must have been fighting for sleep as she had been. His hair was tousled and tangled. Stiorra bit down the urge to pick up her brush and undo all the knots that had to be tugging at his scalp. But that wasn’t what caused her mouth to drop.

She guessed he slept without a shirt, but…

It did not feel like weeks had passed since that event involving Drifa’s sword and two pieces of ruined fabric drifting to the floor.

“I have given Rognvaldr my room, so he does not disturb you as much,” he told her. She hardly heard him, too busy being distracted by the glorious,

“Thank you,” she said. Too quickly. Heat was rising up her face. Stiorra was grateful for the low light the candles provided, hiding her.

“Unfortunately,” he continued, “I cannot sleep in his room.” What? “You don’t want to know- I don’t want to know what he has been doing in there,” he added by way of explanation. Come to think of it, Stiorra had smelled something strange coming out of the youngest Ivarrsson’s room for weeks now, but she’d decided it wasn’t worth her time investigating, provided Rognvaldr was the only one being affected.

“I thought I’d ask if I could sleep in your room for a time.” Stiorra froze. He wanted to sleep in her room. Him. Without anything to cover his sculpted form from her wandering eyes.

It did make sense. Drifa had a room to herself for reasons no-one wanted to comprehend. Ivar was Ivar, no-one would share a room with him whatever the circumstances. Stiorra knew that other rooms in the Hall had occupants, either guests, or warriors recovering from injuries. The Great Hall, she’d been told, had doubled as a hospital more than once when the fighting was so great and there were so many casualties, there was no-where else to put them. Since then, the Great Hall had always had room for the sick. That and Drifa was the best healer. To have her so close to the sick and injured had probably saved many lives.

“I will sleep on your couch, if that would be acceptable,” he offered, beginning to move towards the couch.

“I’m afraid it would not be convenient,” Stiorra said. Why did her mouth have to move faster than her brain? “You are a guest; you will sleep on the bed.”

As she finished, Stiorra began grabbing a few pillows to move them to the couch, but before she could put them down, a hand reached out and held onto her arm. She gazed at that hand, absorbing every detail on it.

“You are the one who is a guest here,” he said. She had looked up at him when he gripped her, now he held her gaze. Stiorra could feel herself melting under it. Until he blinked and let go.

“Why don’t we both sleep on the bed?” he suggested. “I will sleep here,” he said as he crossed over to one side of the bed, “You will sleep here. If we lie on our backs, we will not disturb one another.”

To share a bed with Sigtryggr. Stiorra had no idea if she would be able to handle that. She felt sure that he could see the small puddle that she could swear was growing by the second at her feet.

She opened her mouth to say no. Truely, she did not believe she could control herself.

“I suppose that does not sound too bad.”

Sigtryggr grinned wide. He sat on the bed, then swung his legs around and lay down. If Stiorra thought he was devastating standing or sitting, then he was beyond it when he lay down. Every single ridge of muscles popped in the gentle candlelight. As he brushed his hair out of his face, the bulges that were his biceps flexed in a… thoroughly indecent way.

He saw her staring, and he smirked. It was only brief, as though he did not want her to notice that he had caught her staring at him. She moved towards the bed, determined not to let herself completely melt into a puddle. She was Uhtred’s daughter, she did not melt in the presence of undeniably handsome, muscled Danes. Especially not ones with warm ice blue eyes, pillow-soft auburn hair, dimpled smiles…

No, this was not happening. She was not going to fall in love with this man.

Stiorra climbed into the bed, carefully lying on her back and stubbornly fixing her eyes on the ceiling. She heard him chuckling next to her.

Before long, the only sound in that room was his light steady snores. Stiorra, however, could not sleep. How could she with him sleeping right next to her? She had been lying like a log for hours, and her back was starting to ache and sting. She itched to turn on her side, but that would mean she was facing him, the immoveable block of muscle and warmth that lay right fucking next to her.

Stiorra had tried everything. Counting sheep, counting breaths, counting his snores. Just closing her eyes and willing herself to sleep.

Nothing worked. All she would think about was his arms closing around her, breathing in his scent. With that thought, she realised she had no idea what he smelled like at all.

No, she was not rolling over and sniffing him. That was both creepy and perverse. She closed her eyes again, praying to gods to let her sleep.

While she would not roll over to sniff him, she began to think that it couldn’t be the worst thing. The pain in her back was becoming quite agonising.

Sighing in defeat, she turned in the bed. And suddenly she was facing him.

He seemed… peaceful? His face had relaxed, his curving slightly into a smile. His wild hair was fanned out on the pillow, his hands resting across his stomach. Stiorra thought she had never seen anyone look more handsome and beautiful than Sigtryggr did in that moment.

She lay her head on her hands and slowly, finally drifted off to sleep to the rhythm of his breathing.

***

Sigtryggr:

The first moments of waking were usually filled with confusion. Where am I? Who am I? were the thoughts that plagued Sigtryggr in that moment. As his breath left him in a huff, hair fluttered, tickling his bare chest.

And now he remembered.

His arms were encasing her small, slight body. One hand rested on her waist, keeping her close. The other held her head so that it did not fall from his shoulder. He leaned in, inhaling the sweet smell of her hair.

Stiorra.

Her breathing was still deep and even, indicating to him that she was still asleep. Good, he thought, a few more moments to hold her close.

But no. He could not… indulge like this. She could wake any moment and she would be horrified at this. No matter how much he wished she would wake and hold him there. To…

No, he had to move. But how to do it without waking her from her slumber.

One of her hands had rested itself on his stomach, the other curled underneath her head. He gingerly moved the hand on his stomach and slipped his arm out from under her. Carefully, he lowered her head back on the pillow.

She was so peaceful. Her soft lips curved into a small smile. He reached out to brush a small lock of her hair from her face, and she shifted.

Sigtryggr did not wish to leave. But he had to. He could hear his brothers tramping around in the hallway.

And so he left, quietly padding across the floor.

***

Stiorra:

Stiorra woke alone. Sigtryggr had left.

She reached out to feel his side. It was still warm, so he hadn’t left that long ago.

Her eyes lit up and she leapt out of bed like it was the last day of her life. She hurriedly dressed and…

Almost crashed straight into a man who was about to enter Rognvaldr’s room armed with nothing but a bucket and a mop. Ah. The man Sigtryggr must have called to clean it. She apologised and he shook his head. She caught a glimpse inside the room and almost threw up. Although, that would’ve only improved the look of that place.

The stairs were a challenge. Her dress stretched the half healed scabs on her back, and she winced as she made her way down the stairs.

Sigtryggr appeared to just be sitting down. He smiled and beckoned her over.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked. Stiorra blushed, not about to admit that he had kept her up half the night.

***

Dyflin was a bustling centre of trade. It was right by the river, and, partly thanks to Drifa’s travels, was a host to people from all sorts of places in the world. The mixture of different peoples, cultures, languages made the market a noisy environment. The merchants shouting their wares, the bark of dogs, the baa-ing og sheep. People had to push to get past each other. Fights would break out over the smallest of things. Gold, silver and jewels sparkled in the weak autumn sun. The cloths that protected the stalls fluttered in the wind. Herbs and spices could be smelled, some were so strong they could be tasted. Performers sang and danced, and an old man told stories to the young children.

Stiorra was jostled as she pushed her way through the crowd, determined not to let Sigtryggr’s sister, Aldis, out of her sight. Sigtryggr’s instructions had been very clear. Buy what you are looking for and come straight back. No getting distracted by the pretty things in the market.

Aldis and Sigtryggr could not have been more similar to each other. Both shared the same auburn hair and blue eyes. Aldis had that same cleverness and sense that her brother did. Stiorra had heard her begging him to let her become a shield-maiden. His excuse had so far been that she was still too young to be trained.

The two were in the market searching for a gift for the youngest, Gudrid, who was sick with a light fever. Drifa had already said she was otherwise fine, but Gudrid insisted on being treated like a queen. Demanding people bring things to her bed.

Aldis had a kind heart, and she had told Stiorra that she had not yet spent any of her allowance for some months. This allowance came from Sigtryggr and Rognvaldr. Ivar did not give a shit.

People kept on brushing past Stiorra’s back, which was sore. She was all too relieved when the stall selling children’s toys finally came into sight.

Aldis stopped up front, taking her time looking for something special, while Stiorra struck up conversation with the trader.

She learnt that he had just come from Drifa’s lands in Norway, “and I have something that may work for your friend here.” Aldis’ head shot up at that. The trader proceeded to pull out a small figure depicting a woman. But Aldis shook her head, saying that her sister did not like dolls.

“She wants to be a shield-maiden,” she dutifully informed him. Hearing this the man showed her a toy sword. Stiorra was surprised. He did not seem at all fazed at the idea of shield-maidens. Stiorra had often heard talk in the Great Hall on how shield-maidens were useless. They were women, and therefore had no place on the battlefield. But then… this man had come from Drifa’s lands. It was known that shield-maidens were far more common there.

Aldis clapped her hands in excitement. She made the purchase and the two walked back, as they had been ordered.

Some people stared strangely at the sight of a young girl holding a sword. But Aldis marched on, head held high and staring right back at those people.

Someone shoved Stiorra. A boy running away from his angry-looking father.

But Stiorra did not register who it had been. Pain lanced up her back. Blood had started to drip down her spine. Aldis had already raced ahead.

There were a few men standing around when she entered the Great Hall. Aldis had run to her brother to show what she had found. He smiled and patted her head, telling her to go and give it to her sister. Then he saw Stiorra.

Seeing the pain on her face, he immediately rushed towards her. “Are you hurt, Stiorra?” he asked, panic evident in his voice.

“I am fine,” she assured him, although he was not convinced.

“Please,” he begged. “show me what hurts.”

“Not here.”

He nodded and guided her upstairs. Once they reached the landing, she turned and showed him the new design on her back.

“Come.”

She followed him to his room. She hesitated outside. Should she be going into a man’s bedroom. Alone.

But he wasn’t any man. He was Sigtryggr.

The door shut behind her.

He went to the chest of draws, scrabbling around inside them for something. Then he triumphantly pulled out a small tin. When he opened it, she saw it was a salve.

“Drifa told me she had run out.”

“Some of us learn to make it.”

Well, that explained it.

This salve was made to help sooth smaller cuts and bruises. People were always getting hurt in Dyflin. Usually Drifa made it. But demand was so high that she frequently ran out. It made sense that some people would learn to make it themselves.

“Turn around,” he said. Seeing her hesitation, he added, “You will need help to apply it.”

Slowly, she turned, removing her cloak.

She heard him step forwards. Then felt his fingers loosen the ties of her dress. It sagged on her shoulders, and he brushed the back apart.

Stiorra gasped as the cold air hit her back. It stung, then it soothed.

There was a squeaking noise as he unscrewed the pot.

She inhaled sharply through her teeth as his fingers made contact with her back. But moments later, she felt only relief.

His fingers were gentle and light as they danced across her bleeding back.

Her cheeks flamed. She was alone, with a man, in his bedroom, with her dress undone and her back exposed. Her father would kill her. Or possibly him? Finan would grind him into a paste and eat it. Sihtric…

It was a shame he was done so quickly. It seemed like mere seconds by the time he was doing up the laces.

She turned to thank him, but found herself stopped short. His eyes were black, pupils so dilated it was like looking into a hole. Stiorra felt herself falling, and falling.

“You should go,” he said, his voice soft. Gods, that voice, it sent heat rushing from her face to between her legs.

She stumbled back, desperately trying to wrench her gaze from his face.

His door opened. Rognvaldr.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Sigtryggr answered, “Stiorra was just leaving.”

“Thank you,” was all she was able to say.

***

Out in the hallway, Stiorra almost tripped over her feat. What was that? He had been so kind and gentle. She had been in his room, her back bare. He could have shoved her face-first on the bed and had his way. But he didn’t. Another thing to add to the great winding mystery of Sigtryggr Ivarrsson. Ivar certainly did not share that. Stiorra bet he would have her bent over before she could ask him for help. But Sigtryggr had been gentle. The only question was why?

#the last kingdom #sigtryggr #stiorra #tlk fics

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a-tiny-frog-girl · 2 years

Text

To Mars and Back ch. 5

first // previous // next (ao3)

Welcome back to long chapter town! This one is also a little rough, but of course, the tw's will be just below this so you can decide if this chapter and/or story is for you. No shame in taking breaks for your mental health. Hell, I'd even recap it minus triggers for you in my dm's if you wanted! Anyways, love all of my readers lots and I hope you enjoy! (reblogs/comments >>> likes)

warnings: implied abuse, blood and injury mention, accidental fearplay, panic attack, Criminal Minds typical violence (mentioned)

words: 4,061

summary: Mars bonds more with the whole team over food, bandages, and casework. Can she trust them enough to let them in on the situation?

Mars woke up as she always did. Carefully. She didn't open her eyes or change her breathing pattern to pretend to still be sleeping until she was sure it was safe. She noticed the sounds of pages turning too frequently for it to be a borrower. So she was in proximity to a human. Only then did she notice the softness of the surface she laid on and the warmth of the fabric draped over her. It sang a siren song of comfort, almost lulling her back to sleep.

Instead, Mars focused harder on staying awake and figuring out where she was. Why wasn't she in her cage? Was she going to be in trouble when she got up? Was it a trap? Mars racked her brain but the sleepiness clouded her memory. She covertly opened her eyes to look at her surroundings and found herself in the middle of a sea of fabric, white and untouched like fresh snow. She closed her eyes again and turned her body, making sure it looked like a random movement she made while she was asleep. At once her leg and back started throbbing with pain. It took all her effort not to cry out. She bit her cheek, drawing blood.

Yesterday's events came back to her with the pain. The new humans, the hotel, the food given freely, the dilemma of trust. Finally, Mars let her eyes flutter open and stretched with a groan, officially awake for all to see.

"Morning." A voice rough from sleep rumbled from above her. "Did you sleep okay?"

Mars nodded, not exactly sure what would be considered okay sleep. It didn't really matter anyways.

"That's good. Hotch and most everyone left to the precinct earlier this morning. They figured you probably wouldn't want to go, so Hotch told us to stay here. Garcia's next door in the suite." Reid said. Mars nodded again in response.

"Do you think you would be up to helping us today?" Reid asked, studying her body language to make sure she wasn't upset by the notion.

"Help you?" Mars echoed suspiciously.

"We want to find Belovich, the guy who kidnapped you and put him away. His whole gang, too." Reid said. "It's our job, remember?"

"How could I help with that?" Mars asked, confused.

"You were at his hideout, right? If we can find it we can probably find enough evidence to get him and his underlings in jail, or at least hold them for long enough to get what we need." Reid said. Mars stiffened at the last sentence, recalling the shelves lined with cages exactly like hers.

"They have more like you, don't they?" Reid read her like the book he was still holding in his off-hand. "It's okay, we just want to help." His voice was soft and caring, but Mars couldn't help the fear that raced through her body. Now the humans had a reason to treat her nicely. How long had they known? Was she just a means to an end?

Mars started to curl in on herself, only stopping when she felt a stab of pain in her back. Warmth soaked into her bandages, turning them red if they hadn't been completely red already.

"Damn, your bandages need changing." Reid noticed. Mars couldn't help but flinch at the swear, even though it was comparatively less harsh than others. She hoped that he had just noticed her leg because otherwise, it meant she stained her only clothing. But luck was not on her side as she reached back to feel the cloth damp and her fingers red where she had touched it. At the realization, she turned to look at the pillow she was still sitting on and her eyes widened at the splotch of blood. Automatically, she turned to look back at Reid, fear in her eyes.

"Oh yeah, that is a lot of blood. Do you feel okay? Are you dizzy?" Reid asked worriedly, turning her fear to confusion.

"I'm... a little dizzy," Mars admitted, still tensed, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"The first aid kit with everything in it is still in the suite, is it okay if I take you over there?" Reid dropped the blood stain as if it was completely unimportant. Maybe he'd forgotten somehow? Mars wasn't going to push her luck either way. She nodded and waited for him to scoop her up again.

She startled slightly at the poof of air the hand disturbed as it dropped, palm open, next to her. It was the same gesture as last night, an offer to get on. Mars stared in surprise for a moment before bringing herself to her senses. His patience wouldn't last forever. She gracefully untangled her legs from the fabric she had been using as a blanket and pushed herself to a stand. Her leg complained, but she pushed herself off and took a step into his hand.

"You might want to sit down, just in case." Reid said. Mars nodded and lowered herself to a seated position.

"Okay, you ready?" Reid said with the same anxiety from last night. She nodded, but in her head, she was thinking hard. Could he just be worried that she wouldn't give up the location of the others? Could it possibly be genuine worry? Mars went to bite her lip in thought, hissing in pain as her teeth made contact with the open wound on her cheek from a few minutes ago.

"You okay?" Reid stopped mid-step to check in on Mars.

"Mhm," Mars said, still lost in thought.

"You sure?" Reid asked, putting a finger gently on Mars' back for support. It shook Mars out of her brain, but she was surprised when it didn't feel... bad.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Mars answered honestly, meeting Reid's eyes. He smiled and continued on, then knocked at the door in front of him.

"Who knocks at the lair of genius unrestrained?" A voice called from inside.

"Uh, Dr. Reid?" Even Reid seemed surprised by the strange words. There was the sound of mechanics in the door and the door clicked open, Penelope Garcia on the other side.

"And here comes sleeping beauty! Dost thou wish to commend me on my magnificen--" Garcia stopped as Reid stepped into the room, staring at Mars.

"Garcia?" Reid asked.

"Sorry, I, uh, thought she was a weird dream." Garcia said. "Mars, right?" Mars nodded and waved, which had the exact same response as last time. A returning wave and an awed smile.

"How can I help you two?" Garcia asked, sitting back down in a comfortable chair in front of a laptop.

"Mars' bandages need changing." Reid said. "I thought maybe she'd be more comfortable if you did it." He looked at Mars, checking his theory. She didn't seem to have a strong reaction.

"My dear, I would love to. However, my hands are made for hacking, not re-bandaging." She wiggled her fingers as if in demonstration. "Wish I could help." She said with a shrug, then immediately went back to tapping away at the keys.

"It's okay." Mars said, just loud enough for Reid to hear. "You can fix it, I don't mind." Her voice shook a little, but she meant it.

"You could do it by yourself again if that would make you more comfortable!" Reid said, the nervousness from before creeping in again.

"I don't think I can unwrap the one for my back." Mars admitted with a shaky sigh. It wouldn't be too bad, she just had to get it over with.

"Okay. If you're sure." Reid said, sounding unsure himself. "You can tell me to close my eyes or whatever would make you feel better."

"It's okay." Mars said again, mostly convinced of her words.

Reid let out an anxious breath that ruffled her messy hair and navigated towards the couch and short table from last night where the kit was still sitting. He started depositing Mars as he had before, but stopped, seemingly rethinking it. He put his hand flat on the table like he had to pick her up earlier and waited. Mars looked up at Reid who gave her an encouraging smile and decided that she was meant to get down by herself. Another surprise, much less alarming than having the floor drop out from under her. It was a little harsh on her leg, so she sat down as soon as she was settled on the table.

"Okay, do you want to do your leg or your back first?" Reid asked as he grabbed the gauze and other medical supplies.

"Leg. Um, please." Mars hastily corrected herself.

Reid nodded and reached toward her leg outstretched in front of him. He hesitated for a minute, hand hovering an inch away. He looked up at Mars and when he didn't see any dissent, began to carefully peel the gauze from her leg.

The cool air stung against her still open wound, but not enough for her to care much. She was more focused on the fingers the size of her torso.

"Did you put any bacitracin on it yesterday?" Reid asked.

"bass-ih-tracer?" Mars sounded it out, racking her brain.

Reid pulled a tube about the size of Mars out of the first aid box.

"Oh, uh, no. Was I supposed to?" Mars' voice raised in pitch with worry at the end.

"No, no, it's fine. We should just put some on now. It'll keep it from getting infected." Reid explained. Mars nodded and Reid took off the cap.

"It might feel cold," Reid warned Mars, squeezing a bit of the gel onto his fingertip.

Mars held her breath, but it wasn't as cold as she imagined. She let out a sigh of relief.

"Might have miscalculated how much you needed." Reid said, most of the fingerful of medicine still unused. "Oh well. I can use it on your back?" The end of the sentence turned upwards like a question, so Mars nodded once, her hands tight in fists to distract her from the dread pooling in her stomach.

"So, um, how do you want to do this?" Reid asked awkwardly.

Mars took a shaky breath. Take the dress off, turn around. It seemed so simple in her mind, but she was shaking even though she hadn't moved. Take the dress off, turn around. Turn around, take the dress off. She repeated to herself in her head. Just take the dress off...

In one quick, fluid motion, Mars pulled the cloth over her head and dropped it next to her. Her hands grabbed onto her arms the moment they were free with such force she didn't think she could release them if she tried. For a second, she stayed frozen, staring at the pile of blood-soaked clothing.

Only when the cold seeped in did her brain process what she had done. It felt wrong, felt terrifying to have taken it off on purpose. Her face slowly rose, expecting to see the look of hunger and greed that she had seen so many times before on Dr. Reid's face.

But the shock Mars felt at her actions was mirrored by Reid.

"Are you... okay?" He asked carefully, backing up to give her a little more space.

Mars' hands clamped harder onto her arms. She shivered a little and looked away. She couldn't even pretend she was okay. Wordlessly, she stood and turned around, her back facing Reid.

"I'm going to start taking off the bandages now." Reid said in a quieter voice, giving her a few second's notice before even reaching out. Mars still flinched at the touch. Reid paused when he felt her jerk away and waited for a moment before starting again.

"Can you lift your arms, please?" Reid asked. In her head, Mars wasn't sure she could. But somehow, with the question, her hands let go of her upper arms and her arms moved out of the way, like they were voice activated.

She felt the human's shadow fall over her and his breath tousling her hair. She watched his hands appear in front of her with the bandage, carefully unwrapping. She tried to keep her shivering at bay as she watched the fingers bigger than her whole body disappear and reappear, taking up her entire vision and going away faster than she could ever move. It would have been hypnotizing if she weren't fearing for her life.

"Okay, I got it." Reid said as the cold hit her back. "Hold on, the medicine's next."

The cold gel sent a shock of cold through her body, making her gasp in surprise. Then the burn it caused crept in. Mars' body was confused, shivering and aching all at the same time.

"Sorry, I just gotta rub it in a little." Reid said, a little nervousness entering his voice again. "Almost done, I promise."

When he removed his finger, the cold burned even worse. Whatever heat he had been giving Mars pulled away with his hand and her shivers nearly knocked her off her feet.

"Arms up." Reid said in a patient tone. Mars complied, not having even noticed her arms come down from before.

"Tell me if it's too tight, okay?" Reid asked as he started wrapping again. Mars nodded. His hands danced around her again, carefully keeping a steady pressure. The pad of the bandage felt better this time, Mars vaguely thought. It must have not been in the right place last time.

"Is that good?" Reid asked. Mars nodded. It was less loose than last time, certainly. That was probably good.

Reid curled his hand around Mars, turning her back to face him, and handed her her dress back. Between his fingers, it looked so small. Was she really that small? She pulled the dress over her head, still shivering. The clothing had lost any warmth it had held.

"All done." Reid said, offering his hand again. Mars walked robotically forward and almost collapsed into his grasp, leg upset from the amount of standing she had done.

"Geez, you're really cold." He said.

"Sorry." Mars managed to mutter through the haze in her brain.

"Don't be." Reid said softly.

Reid walked back over to the dinner table Garcia was sitting at and sat down. He flattened his hand on the table, but Mars looked up at him with big, sad-looking eyes and he cupped his hands gently around her. He wasn't going to make her get off and be freezing.

Mars surprised both herself and Reid by relaxing back against his hand. Her body was so exhausted she couldn't fight it. Or, at least, she didn't feel like she had to.

Some amount of time later, a beep from the door woke Mars from her sleepy haze. She sat up and peeked over the edge of Reid's hands just in time to see the door open and a flood of people come through.

"What a surprise! Our boy genius made it out of bed! Welcome to the land of the living!" Morgan teased loudly. A paper bag crunched against the table, startling Mars into hiding under Reid's thumb. The rest of the humans were all talking to each other and though they weren't as loud as Morgan, the noise added up and Mars couldn't help but cover her ears.

"Hey!" Hotch's stern voice cut through the sea of voices. "Quiet down." Mars curled up at the tone, even though the words helped her. Thankfully, the rest of the humans listened and quietly apologized. Mars was sure it was to Hotch and not to her.

"Where's the kid?" Morgan said with a tinge of panic from somewhere further into the room.

"Over here." Reid said just loudly enough for his voice to carry. The thumb that had been keeping her hidden lifted away. Mars looked up, trying not to let the anxiety of everyone staring at her get to her.

"Good morning." JJ said with a smile. Mars returned it as best she could.

"We got you a few things." Hotch said to Mars as he pulled out a chair to sit in. He reached into the paper bag and pulled out a smaller wooden box. He opened the latch and slid it towards Mars and Reid.

Mars leaned over the edge of Reid's curled fingers to inspect the box. Inside were small bundles of fabric of various colors.

"A few changes of clothes. I'm not sure if they'll fit, but I can go look for others if it's too big or too small." Hotch supplied.

"I can sew, too. If it's just basic alterations, I mean." Reid added.

Mars’ jaw almost dropped out of shock before she collected herself. It was a nice gesture, but if she showed too much interest in it, they might take it away to make her behave later. The idea of real clothes instead of whatever the other humans who had kidnapped had forced her to wear felt amazing, she couldn't let it slip away.

"Thanks." Mars said shyly.

"Don't worry about it." Hotch said with a small smile. "Do you want to try some on right now?"

Mars looked alarmedly around at all the humans watching her.

"We can set you up a private place, so you can change without anyone looking at you." Hotch reassured her.

"Yes please." Mars said, nervousness churning in her gut.

It only took a few minutes for Mars to find and put on some clothes from the box, with help from Reid getting to and from the bathroom, of course. Her borrower instincts demanded she pick dark clothing. The black t-shirt and navy blue pants were much nicer than her old dress. Her pants were slightly too long, and even though she tried to cuff them at the bottom, they fell past her feet. Another obstacle the humans had created so she couldn’t run away, her cynical mind said. Her logical mind shot back, how could they have known which pair of pants she’d pick?

“I brought lunch for you guys. Well, breakfast for sleep-a-roo here.” Morgan shoved Reid playfully just enough for him to nearly fall out of his chair. Mars flinched at the large, sudden motion and tried not to think of how the power it would take to nearly unseat a human could kill her in an instant.

“Ooh, you got Dick’s burgers? Remind me to thank you later.” She said with a wink at Morgan.

“I’ll hold you to it, baby girl.” Morgan bantered right back.

Mars blinked a couple of times, unsure what she had just overheard.

“Oh, I didn’t know what to get for you, so I got a few different sides. You can try my burger if you want.” Morgan said as he pulled paper-wrapped objects out of a bag.

“For me?” Mars had barely processed the clothing being gifted to her. She was not ready for another act of generosity so soon. Her stomach churned even more as she wondered if this is how far they went to be nice, would they go even further when she stepped out of line?

Any hunger she had felt had long ago left her, whatever space it would have filled doing somersaults instead. But when Morgan pushed a paper plate toward her, she crossed the distance for the food despite her leg and stomach. She would be insane to not take food when it was offered while she was with these unpredictable humans. She reached for a piece of food but stopped when Reid’s attention turned to her. It was being offered, wasn’t it? Mars held her breath for a second, silently asking for permission and hoping this wasn’t where they turned on her. Reid didn't nod or shake his head, instead reaching toward her. Mars' legs shook even more. She wasn't sure her hurt leg could handle this much longer. Although if Reid killed her now, that wouldn't matter much, would it?

His hand stopped right in front of her, placing a piece of meat and cheese on the plate before disappearing back to Reid's side of the table.

Mars sank to her knees, still shaking slightly. Reid didn't seem to notice as he went back to his burger. She looked away just before he took a bite the size of her whole body. She felt sick, but she grabbed the piece of meat and cheese and took a bite anyway.

"Garcia, any luck on the plate?" Hotch said from behind Mars, making her squeak in surprise. Luckily, the sound was drowned out by the humans above her.

"Just another stolen car. Big cities have tons of 'em." Garcia replied with a sigh. "It's like this guy doesn't exist! I can't even find a highschool yearbook with him in it!"

"He doesn't seem like the type to know how to live completely off grid. These days with mobile phones and cards for everything, he'd have to actively avoid the internet. That's gotta take brains." Morgan said.

"He's right, most Americans use Google regularly these days. If he even searched for nearby bars on a normal device, we'd have something on him." Reid said.

"These encryption methods are crazy smart, too. I could have written these." Garcia added. "That guy must have been some kind of computer whiz."

Mars couldn't help but scoff at the idea of that man being anything more than literate. Every member of the team in the room turned to her at the sound, most of their faces unreadable.

"Sor-Sorry I–" Mars' words stopped in her throat, feeling like a loose bite of food trying to strangle her.

"It's okay, Mars." Hotch's deep voice startled Mars into jumping slightly. "Did you know something about him?"

"He, um, wasn't smart. At all." Mars said nervously. "I think the boss does all the crypting or something."

"So that would mean all the encryption would be the same then?" Garcia asked.

"Probably, I think. I didn't really see any of it." Mars answered.

"So if I can crack this, I can crack any of the gang's computers! That's genius, Mars!" Garcia's eyes sparkled as she aggressively tapped at the keys on the keyboard. Mars turned bright red at the compliment, turning back to the food she was eating to distract her racing brain.

"Did you overhear anything else? It might have seemed like nothing, but it could point us in the right direction." Hotch followed up.

"I don't-- I'm not sure I can really help. I'm not, um, very good at this stuff." Mars said quietly.

"You just did help us, just now." Reid pointed out. "But if you don't feel like talking about it, that's okay."

Mars hesitated, tapping her hands together as she thought. They had been helping her and being generous. It would be nice to help them in return. But what if that was their plan to get the information out of her? Mars scooted herself around to face Hotch.

"Why do you want to find those guys?" She asked.

"They've been killing a lot of people and getting away with it. We want to stop them and put them in prison so they can't hurt anyone else." Hotch answered.

Mars noticed that Hotch hadn't mentioned the other borrowers at all, almost like he didn't know. But it wasn't enough information to decide if she could trust them yet.

"What if," Mars stopped mid-sentence to take a breath. "What if I don't help you? What'll you do with me then?"

"A lot of people don't want to talk about bad things that happened to them. Other victims we've talked to haven't been able to help us before. It wouldn't change the way we act if you don't help us. You don't owe us anything." Hotch said. Mars turned the words over in her head, examining them closely and looking for loopholes. Other victims... he had to be talking about humans. They didn't seem like they'd ever met anyone like her before. Was he comparing her to a human? The people who had taken her barely even considered borrowers animals. The thought of the other borrowers made memories of cages covered in blood and dirt appear in her head. It was easy to say things and not mean them, but Mars couldn't let the others rot in there.

"I'll help as much as I can."

#criminal minds g/t #g/t writing #gt writing #froggy writes #oc: mars #to mars and back #sfw g/t #long post #borrowers #giant/tiny #sfw gt #long reads

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madstwd · 2 years

Text

Day 2 - Rick Grimes X Reader

"Can you stop getting shot? It stresses me out"

Season: 8

Warnings: none

Words: 1.1k

Here's day 2! Hope you enjoy- mads

Masterlist for the other days

Discord link

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

Your hands were pressed against Ricks side as you bandaged yet another gunshot. “You know getting shot isn't part of the run?” He moaned. It was true, it was only meant to be a simple run, nothing that involved a random hostile group camped where the supplies were. You tried to go for a more calm and reasonable approach, that was until Rick decided he didn't like their lingering eyes or comments. You knew most men, decided that they could have whatever woman they came across. Your experience with the Claimers back in the day proved that much. So Rick being Rick threatened them…with his gun and head tilt.

“I have no idea how to get you back, like it’s just me and we are miles away from the car” you sighed at the man. Rick snickered which was followed by a groan of pain. Your face was looking down at him with concern and amusement. “Your shirt, we can use the flannel to at least put some pressure.” He said. You looked at the flannel you were wearing, one you had stolen from Aarons collection, where you shared a house to help with Gracie. “Well you can tell Aaron that it was your idea” you laughed as you began to slip the shirt off. “I'll find him a new one. On the next run”

“I don’t think that will be for a while, love”

Rick sat up, a smile etched on his face as he saw yours. The man has been shot so much it’s almost like he doesn’t get affected by it anymore. You ripped off the sleeve, folding it into a makeshift pad pressing it to his wound, “hold this”

Ricks hands replaced yours whilst you cut up one more strip from the shirt to tie it around his waist. Once the makeshift bandage was in place, you helped the man stand up before starting the long journey towards the car, supporting most of his weight.

It was dark when you finally got back, racing to the infirmary unsure of how much blood the man had now lost. A tired but not surprised Denise showed up at the door and led you inside. She cleaned the wound, impressed with your innovative idea with Aaron’s shirt. “Unfortunately it's not a clean through shot, so it's going to hurt but we have to take them out” Denise smiled at the man. Rick groaned, his head hitting the white pillow as he braced himself for Denise’s digging around. “Can you go and check on Judith and Carl for me please? Whilst i get stitched up” rick asked, drawing his attention away from Denise walking around gathering the supplies she needed. “You just don’t want me in the room whilst you cry like a baby”

“You figured it out”

You smiled at the wounded man, nodding before saying that you’ll be back in a minute. “Oh Denise, i had to drag his ass all the way here, if you could like poke him with the needle at least once then its his payment back”

You heard her laugh as you closed the door behind you, looking down at your bloodied clothes you sighed before deciding to return home before you saw the kids.

Aaron was there in the kitchen giving Gracie a late night feed. “Rough run?”

“Well Rick decided to shoot up a group because of comments they made about me”

Aaron laughed, giving you a large smile at your tired and unamused expression. “You know, you should tell him how you feel. It’s not wise to just wait anymore”

You turned to look at the man, a soft smile on your face replaced the old expression. “I have to go and check in on carl and Judith, your flannel by the way, is no longer”

“My what?!”

“Ricks fault”

You laughed as you walked up the stairs to get changed, choosing a cleaner tank top and a pair of sweats to go and visit the children. You used wipes to clean your arms and face of any blood, and washed or maybe scrubbed your hands from the dried blood, before you finally made your way to the house.

“Hey Carl,” you said, spotting the kid on the sofa reading a comic.

“Hey, where’s dad?”

“He got shot”

“Again?”

“Again”

The boy gave you an amused smile before returning back to the comic. “I’ll head back over there in a minute, he just asked me to check on you”

“Getting Judith asleep was a bit of a battle, she must have missed you. But I managed” he smiled. You smiled back nodding. “Alright, i'll see you in a bit”

Once you got back to the infirmary, now tired of being on your feet for so long. “Hey, is all good” you asked Denise when you walked in, noticing the man now passed out on the bed. She nodded “yeah, he just passed out from the pain. Don’t worry, I poked him with a needle at least once” she replied. You let out a small chuckle, “thank you, i can watch him now. Get some sleep doc” you said to her, bringing the woman into a small hug. “Goodnight, he might want something for the pain when he wakes”

You nodded as you started to walk over to the chair beside Rick's bed. You took his hand once you sat down, playing with the metal strap of his watch and tracing over the small scars that littered his hands. He looked peaceful like this, no wars or walkers threatening his family, no large amounts of guilt that has piled up over the years. “You shouldn’t stare it's rude”

You jumped from your daydreams, his voice bringing you back to reality. “No teasing or I'll poke the wound,” you joked. Rick laughed looking over at you, your face dusted with a light pink. “Everyone good?”

“Yeah, carl said he thinks judith missed me putting her to bed, guess you’ll have to explain to her it was your fault for getting shot”

“I'll tell her when she’s older” he laughed, his face crinkling in pain. “You know you should really stop getting shot. It stresses me out” you laughed. Rick joined, his chuckle filled the room making the smile on your face grow wider. “You should smile more, take the pain away” he chuckled. You scoffed, turning to face him again. “I never thought I would feel like this again?”

“What shot? It’s like a weekly occurrence for you”

“No..in love” he said, smiling softly at you. His eyes scanned your face as he waited for your response. “I didn't either,” you said. The chair fell over as you stood up, not wasting anymore time to feel his lips on yours. You smiled into the kiss, finally after years feeling them. When you both pulled away, you just stood there smiling like a love struck idiot. Rick scooted to the side of the bed, patting the empty spot. “Lay down, you must be exhausted”

You nodded, slowly getting on the cot, careful not to touch his side before you laid your head on his chest. His heartbeat lulled you into a soft sleep, where your warmth eased Rick into sleep.

#the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead x reader #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes

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delphi-dreamin · 2 years

Text

Pact Marks

How Delphi got her pact marks and where

A/N: Ah, I finally finished it! I know his isn't going to be the most difficult chapter, but it is up there for me.

Pt 1: Mammon | Pt 2: Levi | Pt 4: Asmo | Pt 5: Satan

Pt. 6: Belphie | Pt 7: Lucifer

Part 3: Beel

Delphi wakes up in Beel’s bed, her head pounding and her chest feeling bruised. It hurts to breathe and she doesn't even feel like trying to sit up, but she’s alive. Somehow. She was sure Lucifer would kill her down in the underground tomb.

She groans, lifting a hand to her head.

“Delphi! You’re awake!”

Beelzebub is sitting on the edge of the bed beside her, holding her hand in both of his. His smile seeing her awake is bright as the sun.

“I've been here watching you. I thought you might never wake up, since humans are so fragile and all,” he says, squeezing her hand softly.

“I’m a bit tougher than that,” Delphi coughs.

Beelzebub gives her a skeptical look, but nods. He explains to her what happened after Lucifer hit her, how Diavolo showed up and stopped Lucifer, how Simeon came and took Luke back to Purgatory Hall, how he and Mammon bandaged up the wounds on her chest, and how he’d brought her back up to their room to rest.

“When you stepped in to shield me from Lucifer, I was pretty shocked,” Beel says finally, resting one hand on her knee. “I mean, why would you go to those lengths? You’re not a demon or and angel, and you’re not even someone with powerful magic. You’re just a regular human. So why…” He pauses, violet eyes cast down to the floor. He seems to search there for the words he wants to say, both hands moving to his lap to wring them together. Then he turns his gaze back to Delphi’s frail-looking frame, searching her face for the answers he seeks.

“Why did you try to protect Luke and me?”

The question hits her like a freight train. What does he mean why?

“Because you two are my friends, Beel. You’re important to me,” she rasps, still finding it difficult to draw in a full breath.

“So…I’m your friend…” the demon muses, that smile like sunshine brightening his face once more. Delphi thinks with a pang that she could probably get lost in that smile.

“Y’know, as I watched you there sleeping, as I looked at your face, I couldn't help wondering…” Beel trails off, expression going dark again, eyes focusing somewhere beyond her. He looks back to her and continues, “If the situation had been reversed, would I have stepped in to defend you?”

His words chill her to the bone. Because as Delphi looks into the gentle giant’s eyes, she can see his answer. No, he probably wouldn't have. Not against Lucifer, anyway. Against any other demon in the Devildom, maybe. But not Lucifer.

He averts his gaze yet again, mumbling, “I want to do something to make it up to you- to thank you for saving me.” He looks up at her with a shy smile. “So, is there anything I can do?”

Delphi holds out her hand to him and he takes it. She pulls herself up to sitting against his protests, but sighs when she gets into a comfortable position. It's easier to breathe sitting up.

“Beelzebub, I’d like you to form a pact with me,” she says, as steadily as she can manage.

His eyes narrow and he says, “So you've made pacts with Mammon and Leviathan, and now you want to make one with me. Why are you so interested in making pacts with demons, huh?”

Beel stands up from the bed and crosses his arms over his chest. His height is intimidating, especially as Delphi is sitting, but she tries not to let it phase her. Mr Six-Foot-Fuck-You can use the intimidation act on some other human.

“I want to know why you want to make a pact with me. Let’s hear it,” Beel growls.

Delphi sighs, giving him some bullshit about wanting Lucifer’s respect. It sounds really great after what just happened. And it isn't entirely bullshit, but she can't exactly tell him the real reason she’s making pacts with all of them. That his twin is locked in the attic and she needs all of their power to bust him out. She hates lying to Beel.

But it does the trick.

He agrees to the pact after a couple minutes of thought. Then comes the difficult part. She’s mostly covered in bandages.

“I guess just find a place that isn't bandaged for the pact mark?” she suggests, throwing the blanket off and looking down at herself. Her stomach is really the only available real estate, but before she can do or say anything, Beel has one massive hand pressed firmly over her navel.

“Beel!” she cries, eyes screwing shut as she clutches at the sheets.

Beel’s eyes, on the other hand, fly open and to her face. The way she’d called his name just now made something twist deep inside him and he felt his face heating.

“Fuck-!” Delphi pants, clenching her jaw tightly. She hadn’t been ready for the burn. On top of the pain in her chest and the difficulty she already had breathing, it was too much. A cold sweat covers her body and her head starts to swim.

It’s almost over, she tells herself. Almost over.

Beel watches with fascination as the human writhes under his hand. Mammon and Levi had said she’d just stood there and taken the pain, but she seems like she could pass out at any moment this time. Her face goes pale as he watches and she breaks out in a cold sweat. Her jaw works, clenching and unclenching, and she grips the sheets so tightly he's almost afraid she'll rip them. But finally she calms and stills, her breaths evening out in a slow, deep rhythm and her head falling back onto his pillow once again.

She doesn't open her eyes for a while, though.

When she finally looks up at him, Beel notes that her pretty violet eyes are brimming with tears. But she doesn’t look sad or hurt. Instead there’s a peaceful smile lifting the corners of her lips.

“Thanks, Beel,” she breathes, placing a hand over his on her stomach.

---

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mammon interrupts, leaning forward on the couch to get a better view of his brother. “You mean she actually reacted to the pain this time?”

Beel nods crossing his arms. “She reacted all right. Just about screamed. But after it was over, it was like nothing happened. She just smiled and thanked me for making the pact with her.”

“And we’re sure she’s human?” Levi asks. It’s probably the eighth time he’s asked.

And for the eighth time, Beel sighs, “Yes, Levi, she’s human. We wouldn’t be able to form pacts with her if she wasn't.”

“Well, yeah, but,” Levi stammers, “she doesn’t act like a normal human, does she? She stood up to Lucifer.”

“She walks around RAD like she wouldn’t make a nice meal for some lower demon, too,” Mammon adds, running a hand through his white hair.

Beel stands suddenly, pacing the floor behind the couch where Mammon sits. He wrings his hands as he does, picking at his nails and cuticles. A deep frown clouds his expression.

“The hell’s wrong with ya, Beel?” Mammon asks, spinning around to watch his younger brother try to walk a hole in his floor.

Beel chews on his cheek for a moment, then abruptly turns and heads for the door.

“I'm gonna go check on Delphi,” he says just before slamming the door behind him.

When Beel returns to his room, the room he’s currently sharing with the tiny human he finds asleep in his bed. Sweat beads on her brow and her normally bouncy pink curls are plastered to her forehead and neck. Her face is flushed, her breathing is quick and shallow, and her eyes seem to dart back and forth behind her lids.

Seeing her in such a vulnerable state makes Beel's heart ache. He carefully climbs into the bed beside her, gingerly pulling her against his chest. He makes sure not to jostle her too much, not wanting to cause her any more pain. But as he settles her against him, she nuzzles in close and her breathing slows.

Beel smiles, warmth spreading from his chest to the rest of his body. He could get used to this.

---

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me beelzebub #mc!delphi #listen i imagine luci got one decent hit in before diavolo got there #why else would Beel be so worried?

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l-r-christian · 3 years

Text

Putting two requests together since they are kinda the same

Title: A banshee and vampires

llulus I don't know if you take requests but I was thinking about something liks poly! mikaelson with a banshee!reader, pretty please 😭✋

Warnings: Fluff, kidnapping, over protective Mikaelson, angst, violence, A big big warning of hints of r*pe I didn't go into detail but just know it is there

Rebekah had been taken and her brothers was every angry having been tearing up the city for their sister which lead them to Marcel who was also looking Rebekah.

"All four brothers here about Rebekah?"

"Yes. what is all this?" Elijah asked walking over to a table that Davina was trying to do a locater spell. Marcel frown looking at the map then at the brothers.

"There has been kidnapping of young woman all some form of supernatural creature. Hayley had told me that a few female wolves had gone missing then as I looked into it witches told a few young witches went missing too."

"So whoever took Rebekah, took these young woman also?"

"Looks like it.

Rebekah woke up in a room and looked around seeing a fire place that was lit there was a chair near the bed she was on. Rebekah also couldn't help notice leather straps attached to the headboard and a spreader bar leaning against the bed this made her shuttered at thought of what it was used for.

"Bloody hell is this?" Rebekah muttered getting out of the bed headed for the door finding it locked then paused hearing screaming and crying of other women. Rebekah stepped back from the door as she didn't need to listen hard to know what was happening to them.

The door open and in stepped a man with a maid next to him. The man was clean shaven dressed in a suit as the maid headed for the closet.

"Have you ate?"

"No. Who are you?"

"My apologies, I'm Anderson and you have been chosen as a bride." Anderson answered eyes raking over Rebekah's body as the maid layed out a dress on the bed.

"A bride?"

"Yes, the Order is in need of brides and you are mine. The maid will ready you then take you to the ball room."

Anderson left as Rebekah glared planning to break out and possibly tear throats out but was snapped out of her thoughts when the maid made her undress. Rebekah sucked in breath hating how revealing the corset was let alone out easy it seem for some to take off the skirt of the dress.

When she arrived to the ballroom see saw more men dressed in three piece suits talking and the women looking pale, a few were bruised, a few had bandaged wrists. The women's eyes were also dull like there was no life behind them but one woman caught her eye.

She was young her neck bandaged and she looked scared as Rebekah noted the young woman must be fairly new. As much as Rebekah felt bad for the other women the vampire needed someone that was a bit more lively.

"Hello." Rebekah whispered making the woman jump looking at the blonde Original who was making sure none of the men noticed that Rebekah was talking to the woman.

"What is your name?" Rebekah asked as the woman grabbed her hand using her finger writing out her name.

"Y/N, do you know what this all is?"

'Vampiric mages....they looking for brides to bare children with powerful magic.' Y/N traced out on Rebekah's palm making the vampire frown.

"How do you know this?"

'An omen. I had a vision...they killed a person to draw me out.'

"You're a Banshee." Rebekah said now the bandages on Y/N's neck made sense so the Banshee wouldn't scream to get free.

'They don't know I can only bare children of my mate....they'll kill me.'

"Don't worry I'll get you out of here."

The Mikaelson brothers had found out just where Rebekah was being held along with the other women. The Order was a group that Elijah and Klaus had dealt with before and they swore they killed the leaders. They stepped inside the mansion the Order had seeing out lavishing everything looked mean while Marcel and his guys were finding a way in.

"These women don't look good." Kol said looking a few that looked weak Elijah noted the bandages.

"They are feeding from them but not caring for them afterwards." Elijah said as the others growled. A man stepped out dressed in a suit smiling at them as the scent of fear and hurt reached the Mikaelson men.

"Gentlemen, what can I do for you?"

"We are here for our sister." Klaus growled as Finn held him back from attacking the mage while Elijah stood straight noting that Kol had slipped into the back.

"I apologize but we don't have her." The mage lied smoothly unaware that Kol had gotten to the back.

Kol walked not liking the smell of fear that seemed to soak the air as he heard a women begging for her life. Kol looked into a room seeing two men kill a woman letting her body drop.

"We still need to find who is plotting to escape."

"We will then correct the behavior." One the mages said and Kol quickly moved to find Rebekah.

"Rebekah!"

"Kol?" Rebekah questioned seeing her brother who saw her covered in blood and peeked in the room she came from seeing a dead mage missing his thoat. Kol smirked a spark of pride fill him seeing Rebekah protect her self.

"Wait where are you going?!"

"To get our mate."

Y/N was scared as she did what Rebekah asked her to do as she stared at the dead mage on the floor. Rebekah had sneaked the Banshee a knife and told her when the mage comes to breed her to kill the mage and unlock the door. Y/N had told Rebekah the reason she was in New Orleans was because one of her omens had told her that the Originals were her mates.

"Y/N?" Rebekah called out opening the door seeing the dead mage and saw Y/N shaking in a corner holding the knife. Y/N ran to Rebekah hugging her as the vampire pressed a kiss to her temple as Kol looked at the Banshee seeing how cute she was.

"Y/N, meet Kol which means the three are here." Rebekah said when Y/N jumped hearing screams and growls. The sounds of bodies hitting the floor was heard as Klaus walked in the room.

"Kol did you find...." Klaus stopped talking seeing Rebekah smiling then noticed Y/N hiding herself in Rebekah's arms.

"Yes and it seems she has gotten herself a Banshee."

"Let's get the girls out of here."

Y/N was soon in the Mikaelson home being washed and dressed in warm clothes by Rebekah. It was just Rebekah and Y/N as the Mikaelson men was helping Marcel make sure the Order was dead. The men came home finding Rebekah asleep on the couch cuddled up to Y/N.

"Our every own Banshee."

"We have to make sure she stays safe if we are going to truly follow Rebekah's lead on this." Elijah says placing a blanket over the two sleeping girls and the men sat watching over them.

It was over time the Originals grew to adore their little Banshee as they were fiercely protective of her as one of them was always with Y/N. It took no time for Y/N to adjust to her vampire mates as she loves them just as much. Y/N nuzzled Finn's neck as the family was enjoying a quiet night in with a movie quietly in the background. Elijah was sitting in on the love seat having Rebekah falling asleep on him while Kol and Klaus was watching the movie.

"You can sleep darling." Finn whispered in Y/N's ear rubbing her back lulling her sleep as it was relaxing for once as the night wear on.

#L.R writes #mikaelson x reader #mikaelson family x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikaelson x reader

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

Text

By proxy

Platonic yandere!Kaeya & child!gn!reader

Wordcount: 2195

A.N.: My first time writing platonic yanderes, hope you'll enjoy.

It's an impulsive decision for the most part - taking you, that is.

Kaeya trudges through the Wolfendom forest, a couple of his underlings, Addler and Otto, following behind as they trail a group of treasure hoarders. Criminal gang must have known that knights are on their tail, there's no other explanation for their sudden fleeing, leaving an already broken camp behind and taking only the most valuable possessions.

It's raining and he silently curses, even if this will give him advantage in battle, but archons, it's so cold. Huge droplets fall on the ground with a resounding sound, drenching everything and turning the forest landscape deep into nigh impassable terrain. Mud clings to their feet, slowing the group down, as the Sun starts to set. Sky turns all shades of purple and red, dimming light throwing the last rays over the Mondstadt as the darkness settles, yet Kaeya and his group still carry forward through the palisade of tall trees.

“Sir”, Otto carefully starts: “It seems that criminals are already several miles away from us”.

Kaeya nods for the knight to continue, already knowing that it will be an ask to stop - the weather is hellish and the rain is one of the heaviest Kaeya has ever had to experience.

“With how strong this rainfall is, the gang's traces will be gone in under an hour”

"All the more reasons to push on and catch them then", Alberich replies, paying zero attention to Adler's slight trembling or Otto's teeth chattering. The group continues on their path through descending darkness, their footsteps hasting despite the clinging and growing fatigue.

Suddenly, as the knights make their way around the cliff, a slight whimper is heard. It's human enough to stop the group - maybe some unlucky civilian got in the way of the gang, maybe criminals left their injured one. Kaeya just nods to the pair, as Otto and Adler unsheathe their weapons, wordlessly understanding the gesture.

Cavalry captain takes a step into the forest pit with a raised sword, all sight and ears, light blue vision on his belt shining and flickering both in caution and anticipation. He walks slowly and quietly, like a cat, careful not to step on the leaves and twigs lying around, and then he sees you.

You are a child, all thin and small in the way that the sick are. There are dark circles under your tired eyes, and the scrapes all over your body. You look already dead. He runs up to you, as he sees your figure swaying and knees buckling, saving you from the fall. Your skin burns Kaeya as he carries you back to the knights - it must be fever then. You blink at him several times, saying something, but your voice is too small and weak to make out anything among the droplets falling, and then you stop, eyes rolling back and head lolling to the side. You blacked out.

He thinks about handing your body to either of the knights and then continuing to run after the gang into the knight, but then decides against it - heavy rain must have blurred all the footsteps they left. Adler almost fails. You escape your delirium a couple of times, babbling words about forest and rain and wolves, and Kaeya, despite his focus on the trail ahead, can't help but listen to what you say. It's childish nonsense for the most part, an incomprehensible product of the feverish mind, yet sometimes you say meaningful things - I thought I would die, I got scared of wolf howls, The rain was so cold.

Some small part of him shrinks and aches at these words, a long buried hurt resurfacing once again. Kaeya frowns and huffs as he tries to get rid of the images of the days long gone in his mind - rainy night, hunger, pain, cold, he will die here. His lips quirk and a humorless laugh escapes him - the irony is painful.

He drops you off at the church, concerned Barbara taking you to the hospital and Kaeya, after a brief report to Jean, goes home, his mind still stuck on the memories of days long past. You will be fine, he tells himself, the church has good healers and the orphanage is nearby. Once you get better, you’ll get sent there, where devoted nuns will raise to be another disciple.

You had a look of a deadman - a strange catatonic serenity was radiating off of you, as you looked at the captain with a glazed yet piercing eyes, both seeing him and through him. It’s cold, so cold, yet no one is here. There are hot tears on his face, wet tracks burning his skin. His tummy is empty and aching, cold bites at his limbs, but Kaeya patiently waits for the adult to return. Father said that Kaeya was their last hope, so sure he would never leave him to die, right?

Cavalry captain barely sleeps through the night, memories and inner demons eating him from inside. When he does manage to doze off, a vague picture of darkening forests and howling winds wake him up, a fervent chanting buzzing in his head - Where is his father? Where is his father? Where is his father?.

Kaeya comes to you the next day, as his shift ends, legs heading to the towering church at the top on their own. Barbara leads him to your bed, your unconscious form lying limply. Idol explains your health issues to him - fever, malnutrition, inflammation, common cold and slight poisoning. The scratches you had yesterday were healed, Barbara says, but the rest of the problems can't be easily fixed with a bit of a hydro.

"Then, what medicines do they need?", Kaeya asks, understanding the unspoken words. The Church of Favonius, despite the large funding it receives from the city's treasury, still lacks a lot of resources and materials. People are free to come and get cured, without having a single mora to pay, which means that most of the remedies disappear at an alarming rate - be it some herbal balm for aching joints or a simple linen bandage.

The idol rustles in the hidden pockets of her dress, taking out a pencil and sheet of paper and begins to write, the list grows as Kaeya’s eyebrows get higher and higher. There are dried Liyuen herbs, exotic Sumeru fruits, specially treated Snezhnayan and Fontaine tinctures and medicines.

Kaeya is taken aback for a second by the sheer length of the final list - most of the items will have to be ordered and shipped and despite his salary of the captain allowing such expenses, it’s still strange to spend so much mora - a complete stranger. Captain contemplates just leaving you there - nuns will take care of you, but the hurt resurfaces again and he sees another person lying on the small hospital bed - little him, scared and confused.

He ends up buying all the listed things, and despite his efforts not to, continues to regularly check up on you when he has time. Sometimes, Barbara says, you wake up from your slumber, enough to utter some confused noises and questions, but then you drowse off again, both sickness and medicine pulling you back to sleep.

Kaeya, to his displeasure, never catches you conscious in time, until he comes one evening, expecting to spend the time looking at you sleeping again only to see you half sitting on the bed. Your posture gets straight the second you notice him too, an expression of confusion and fear appearing on your face.

"Hello", Kaeya starts, slowly walking up towards you, keeping his posture small and voice as friendly as possible:"I am that knight who carried you here, remember?", he explains, seeing the further abashment on you face.

You nod at him, prompting him to continue:"So, I just decided to visit you to ask you how you got in the forest and why were you alone"

"Sister Barbara said that you came here almost everyday," you reply, voice absolutely flat and face having no expression. Kaeya looks at you briefly - it’s rare for children to speak in such a cold manner, you must have something on your mind then.

"Yes, I did" , he says in the same friendly tone.

"Just to know why I was in the forest?" , your voice betrays you, a hint of hurt seeping into it. Ah, that’s why you asked.

"Hm, of course no! I also wanted to see you get better" , he smiles at the end, leaning a bit closer to you. You mull over his words, thinking of their sincerity, and then a later second you say, with much less caution and guard up:

"Well I am better now and…" you get silent for a good minute:"I don't remember why I was there. I think it's because of the fever". Your voice becomes strangely controlled again - you lie to Kaeya, you didn’t forget anything. A part of cavalry captain swells and purrs, recognizing himself in you,

"Do you want to live with me?". He asks instead of trying to get the truth out of you. Your eyes shine and a surprised noise comes out of your mouth at his suggestion - something between a squeak and high pitched yelp.

His apartment isn't the best place to bring the child in - there are far too many bottles and not enough food - Kaeya lives off the takeout from the Good hunter and the skewers he grills when missions call him to leave the city walls. Nonetheless, you don’t look too disgusted with his living conditions, so he considers it a win, as he heads for the tiny kitchen to make you a soup.

It turns out a bit burnt in the end - Kaeya added too much wood to the stove, but you still gulp it down, not leaving anything and thank him for the meal. He makes a mental note to buy you a bed - right now you’re sleeping on a small couch, and clothes to change.

You are a quiet child, too fast to apologize for the smallest mistakes and wary of him when he’s in a foul mood - it gives Kaeya an idea why you were in the woods. Your days together flow slowly and steady with Kaeya falling into routine - he wakes up, makes a breakfast for the both of you, you eat it, as you shyly tell him about your newest interest or finding - a drawing, a strange bug, a shiny rock of unusual colour, then he leaves for work, instructing you to go to the neighbours if you have issues, and leaving a premade dinner for you. Then he comes back, now listening to you talking about your day - you were drawing again, or you played with the other kids, or you were running and catching the butterflies, the now dead insects left for him to look at.

It’s a mundane life, something that Kaeya thought will never please him. There is a large pit inside of him - it was growing and festering with years - Khaenri’ah, father, Diluc, Crepus, that fight. It’s ugly and snarling and thoroughly scorched, a part of his soul that keeps him awake and anxious and angry and sad during bad nights. The pit quiets a bit when Kaeya takes care of you - toys, foods, games, the same way he wishes he was treated as a child.

Crepus Ragnvindr was a nice person, he took Kaeya in, clothed and fed and kept him safe for years, yet there was always an invisible line that separated Khaenri'ahn from Diluc - warmer voice, higher expectations, more praise. Kaeya doubts Crepus noticed this truly tiny gap in treatment, Diluc for sure didn’t. Alberich did his best to ignore it, yet he couldn’t, this difference nagged him at the back of his mind, alienating him in the newfound home.

That must be why he does his best to spoil you - it's new toys and furniture and evening walks around the Mondstadt with you on his shoulders. Soon, a new rumour starts to travel around Mondstadt - about a stray being picked up by another stray. Amber seemingly forgives him for the incident with Collei, Jean gives him a raise the same month, for child expenses, she succinctly says, Albedo off handedly mentions Klee and her desire for friendships, even Lisa gives him a couple of fairytale books, warning him what will happen if he will be late to return them beforehand. Diluc doesn't comment on the irony the next time they happen to meet, but he sees some Dawn Winery workers looking after you, when he is busy with Favonius stuff.

Kaeya, for the first time in years, feels truly happy. He has family again - you and him this time and he's willing to smother you with affections. He buys you things he wishes he had, and teaches you the skills he thinks will help you in life - how to fight, how to lie, how to kill someone with words alone.

It's a strange love he has for you - never seeing you as you - but it's genuine and all encompassing. Kaeya doesn't want little him to suffer again.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #Yandere kaeya #Platonic yandere #Yandere #my writing

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itsnothesameasitwas · 3 years

Note

greek mythology aus you say 👀 ana my dear pls spare some links 👉🏼👈🏼

yes… I said that my dearest friend 😌; sadly there are only a few ones but here the links of those i have already read

✰ To Hell and Back by poshboyfriends | 4k | NR | MDC (happy ending)

an au based off of the story of orpheus and eurydice, the one with the musical lute player who loses his lover and plays his way through the underworld to bring her back.

✰ The Five God Cure for One Anxious Heartbeat by homosociallyyours | 11k | GA

When OT5 decides to sneak into a music festival to have a bit of fun and maybe make a few people fall in love, they expect things to go relatively smoothly. Fate has other plans.

Or: Niall, Louis, Harry, Liam, and Zayn are just five lesser Greek gods out there trying to have a good time, and they're feeling so attacked right now.

✰ not even the gods above (can separate the two of us) by feelslikehxme | 17k | TUA

“Mhm. Soulmates, the two of them.” Harry lays back on the grass, shielding the sun from his eyes with his arm. The last thing Louis needed was the sun shining down on Harry, not that he was staring or anything. “Do you have a soulmate?” He asks, curious to how matchmaking worked. It must be nice, watching people around you fall in love.

“I do. Somewhere. Everyone has one.”

or the one where Louis finds out he's the son of Athena, Harry keeps matching him with the wrong people, Niall accidentally breaks into Louis's flat and Liam doesn't know when to stop asking out Zayn.

✰ Winter Pines and Ocean Eyes by binarysunsets | 14k | TUA

Harry is awoken by the sudden weight of his dog across his chest, and he yawns and stretches his arms above his head, relishing the crack of his back the gesture produces and sending Fen tumbling down onto the bed. There’s a niggling sensation that he has something important to do that day, but in his still-sleepy state he’s struggling to recall what it is. When it hits him, he freezes mid-rub of his eyes, and his hand slowly falls to the furs strewn across the bed. His fingers tangle into their soft texture and he bites his lip.

Right. It’s that day.The day he’s meant to travel south.

Or, the arranged marriage au between young viking Harry, son of his clan's chief, and a certain caesar by the name of Louis, heir to the empire.

✰ A Dangerous Night (To Fall In Love) by FallingLikeThis | 7k | E

“Hey, Harry!” Louis greets, walking up to Harry with a sunny smile.

Any other time, that smile would lift Harry’s heart even as it made it race. He could let himself get lost in it, would probably catch himself more than once hoping, wishing for it to be more than a smile aimed at a friend. He’d relish the moments he could forget that that’s all he is to Louis. Any other time, he’d be selfish and let himself entertain those thoughts. But this is not like any other time. Tonight is the beginning of the end.

or Harry has visions and sees the destruction of Pompeii before it happens. Now, how does he tell his best friend what's to come?

✰ this is heaven in hiding by hemakeshimstrongx | 48k | GA

Harry is destined to sit on a throne. Louis makes him want to throw it all away. Or: Harry embarks on the greatest journey of his life. Louis is there every step of the way.

✰ keep your eyes upon the skies by hypocorism | 12k | TUA

Disney - Hercules AU

✰ the tragic story of a muse and a war god orphan_account | 30k | E

Harry is a reckless god of war, Louis is a muse unspoken of, and their love might not be written in the stars.

PERCY JACKSON AUS

✰ in a sea of mist by tomlinvelvet | 126k | E

A Greek Mythology/Camp Half-Blood AU where Harry is lost, the road to peace is a wretched one, and somehow, through a mist of confusion and regrets, Louis seems to be the only thing that makes sense and everything Harry needs.

✰ How Far We've Come by hrrytomlinson | 32k | TUA

“This is Harry Styles,” Chiron offers.

He’s beautiful. His eyes are a stunning green, the color of new foliage. The new kid’s limbs are long and lanky—he looks extremely uncomfortable and uncoordinated. Louis internally smirks to himself, guessing the kid probably won’t be too skilled with a sword, or a bow, or anything sharp, most likely. His hair falls to his shoulders in sets of loose, brown curls. The color is rich and luscious, resembling soil so much that it looks like flowers could sprout from his hairline at any moment. But Louis’ eyes are stuck on his soft looking lips, pink as flower petals and slightly parted as his eyes scan the horizon of the camp.

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, Harry.”

✰ Like A Drum (Baby, Don't Stop Beating) by exitthequitters | 9k | NR

They walk through the camp together hand in hand, past the big house where Chiron waves happily at them, past the strawberry field where Louis first kissed Harry, past the lake where Louis first met Zayn and Liam, past the dinning hall where Niall sat down next to Louis before he knew he shouldn’t, and to Harry’s cabin.

Or, they're all sons of Greek gods at a summer camp for demigods.

HADES/PERSEPHONE AUS

✰ Breakable Heaven by amomentoflove | 44k | E

“What do you think?” Louis gets captured by Harry’s green eyes, unable to look away or even take a breath.

“I think you’re the most magnificent creature I’ve ever met.”

“You must not have met many creatures then.”

Harry’s eyes glance downward to Louis’ lips and his tongue darts out to wet his own.

“None like you.”

✰ My Heart Lies With You by asphodelknox | 31k | M

“What did you hit me on the head for?” Louis said. He tried to frown, but it hurt too much. Plus it was hard to frown at someone taking care of him so tenderly. “I didn’t hit you on the head,” Harry said calmly, moving from Louis’s forehead to remove some bandages on his arm. “My friend Niall, the God of Death, hit you on the head.” “Well, why did Niall hit me on the head?” Louis asked. He noticed his lips hurt too, and felt a small gash on them. His arms were covered in scratches and cuts, and as he moved to sit up, he winced at a pain coming from his waist. “What the hell happened to me?” Harry sighed. “Niall… can get a bit… excited.” “Was he excited about hitting me on the head?” “No!” Harry said. “Niall just got away with himself.” “Does he do that often? Get away with himself, I mean?” Louis asked wryly. “Only when an idea gets stuck in his head that he can’t get out.”

For being the God of Death, Niall has a habit of acting on ideas without thinking them through. It's probably why Harry ends up with an unexpected but entirely welcome visitor in his bed the day after a Mount Olympus party.

✰ daisies & dying by xaz | 14k | E

Harry’s eyes stayed cemented to the marble tiles, engraining the memory of his shiny loafers and their contrast to the flooring as he heard the footsteps draw near. An icy hand yanked his chin violently, forcing his face forward.Hand still clutching Harry’s chin, the man gave a toothy smirk, “I’ve waited centuries to have you as my bride. I won’t settle for less than your full attention, my love.”

OR Hades!Louis and Persephone!Harry but make it pirates

✰ you flower, you feast by stylinsoncity | 18k | M

He's King of the Underworld, but don't assume Louis has it all. He could stand for some excitement in his monotonous, eternal life and maybe, even.....a soulmate.

(Despite not having a soul.)

And along came "Harry".

✰ For every reason why, you were my because. by hisfirstrealcrush | 3k | GA

He was his greatest form of love.

an au in which harry meets louis in his forest and nothing seems to matter but his ocean-like eyes and his warm embrace.

------

hope you like them!! <33

#greek mythology aus #larry fic rec #trackinghome #tracksintheam #solvetheminourdreams #stef sorry! I was half asleep when I got your ask #hope you liked them!!! <333 #@tania thanks for reading them with me hahaha #@beca i need to follow your advice and stop reading a lot JSAKSJAJS #my fic rec #themed fic rec

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silverynight · 3 years

Text

Dead end

Tanjirou has come to the conclusion that running away towards the big city was a mistake. He's never seen so many people before; it's overwhelming. Nezuko is grabbing his hand hard, almost painfully, although Tanjirou has learned to endure pain in the two years that he stayed with Urokodaki.

Nezuko pulls, managing to draw his attention away from the bakery and back to her. Almost desperately, she makes a few gestures with her hands, pointing in the direction of the mountain.

He sighs, feeling sad inside; he'd like to hear her voice again, but she has refused to speak a word since their family was killed. He's never pressed her though.

"You know we can't go back," Tanjirou mumbles, feeling bad for causing her sorrow. "I miss him too, but you know they're looking for us so he'll probably be safer alone."

Sighing, Nezuko nods, hugs his brother and keeps walking next to him, trying not to collide with the people around and holding his hand.

She's not the only one wishing they could go back, he's constantly thinking about it. Once he thought they could be happy there, in that small village with Urokodaki, but for some reason the people that killed their family also wanted to kill them both.

Tanjirou doesn't understand; Urokodaki said the man behind it was the leader of a crime syndicate and that his name was Muzan. There were two crime groups in Japan; the one led by Kibutsuji and the other by nine people who were called the hashira.

"The Pillars are skilled swordsmen; you'll never find people more capable than them in combat," Urokodaki explained one night. "But they're also dangerous in their own ways."

Urokodaki taught him how to fight with a katana during those two years; he insisted it was necessary in case Kibutsuji came back for him (and he was right).

However, since the katana was Urokodaki's Tanjirou left it behind, instead he brought an axe and hoped for the best.

Nezuko stops; she's blinking, trying to stay awake. They're both tired and hungry and even though Tanjirou would love to get something to eat, he needs to find a place where they both can spend the night first.

Tomorrow he needs to get a job.

His money is not enough to pay for a night in the first place they find. Tanjirou offers himself for any kind of job, but the owner claims he doesn't need more employees at the moment.

"I know a place where you can get money though," he grins, looking over his shoulder. "If you're willing to let your girl work."

Confused, he looks up at the man, who steps into the light to look closely at him.

"I also know a place for pretty boys like you," he adds, taking Tanjirou's chin. "Someone like you can get more than a few coins for spending a night with–"

Moving away from the man, as Tanjirou starts to blush, he runs away from there as quickly as possible.

"I think this was a mistake," he tells Nezuko.

He definitely doesn't like the city.

The second place they arrive to is even worse, not because of how it looks, but due to what they find out when they get there.

"I'm not sure," the woman mumbles, eyeing at them both. "I haven't seen you around here before. The hashira have strict rules when it comes to people from outside the city."

"The hashira?" Tanjirou shivers, feeling suddenly exposed; he looks around, nervous.

"This city belongs to them."

They need to go back immediately. Grabbing Nezuko's hand, he begins to run in the opposite direction, however in his desperation he ends up in a dark alley with a dead end.

"Alright. We just need to turn around," he mumbles, feeling nervous.

"The boy with the hanafuda earrings!" A voice says, amusement ringing in it. "Finally! My Lord Kibutsuji will be happy when I bring your head to him!"

There's a boy with her as well. He's carrying a couple of daggers while she's bouncing two temari in her hands.

"They're coming after me," he mumbles, almost in relief. "Listen, Nezuko, I want you to hide and wait for the perfect opportunity to run away. I'll try to distract them."

Nezuko narrows her eyes, she's fuming, angry at the thought of leaving him behind. She gestures something about never leaving him.

Even though he appreciates it, Tanjirou would've preferred her to choose running away.

However, there's no time to argue. He turns around with the axe in his hand, but a temari passes right over his shoulder. At first Tanjirou believes the girl missed, but when he hears Nezuko's scream and sees her fall to the ground he almost runs towards her.

He can't, there's no time. He charges at the girl quickly, dodging a temari as he runs, only to realize that the boy plans to stab Nezuko even though she's unconscious on the ground.

Without thinking twice, he throws the axe and cuts the boy's arm off; Tanjirou doesn't really like hurting others, but if Nezuko's life is in danger, he knows he'll do anything to keep her safe.

Even though the boy is bleeding because of the wound, he still tries to attack Tanjirou again.

The girl cackles in such a way before running towards his fallen sister at the same time the other tries to reach him, Tanjirou knows he will only have the time to block her attack.

But then, from the roof of the house next to the alley a shadow jumps in front of the Kamado siblings. The young man doesn't say a word as he moves his katana with such ability that it makes impossible for Tanjirou to follow the attack. In the blink of an eye he cuts their heads without even uttering a word.

They both fall to the ground, making Tanjirou gasp and think how glad he is that Nezuko is unconscious at the moment. Quickly, he gets closer and doesn't think too much before taking her in his arms. He wonders if he could run past the swordsman and back into the noisy streets.

However, the young man turns around and looks back at him. Tanjirou curls over Nezuko, trying to protect her with his own body.

"I'm not gonna hurt you or your sister, Tanjirou," he says, surprising him. The young man has black, long hair and blue eyes that don't let any emotion to be reflected in them. Well, perhaps... irritation. They're shadowed with it at the moment. "You should've stayed with Urokodaki."

"How do you know that? How do you know my name?" Tanjirou asks, flinching away when he sees the man with the mismatched haori moving his katana quickly to clean it up. When it's back into its saya, he allows himself to relax... just a little.

"I'm Tomioka Giyuu," he introduces himself, moving even closer. "I'm the one who saved you that day."

No... That's not possible. Well, Tanjirou only remembers falling on the snow from exhaustion, looking for a place where someone could patch her sister up and then... nothing.

He woke up in Urokodaki's house the next day. He just assumed...

"Come with me."

Before he can say anything, two people arrive to the scene; Tanjirou imagines them screaming and calling the police, but instead of even glancing in the corpses' direction, they bow in front of Tomioka respectfully.

"Clean the area," he mumbles and both man and woman nod, before using bandages to cover the corpses completely.

Tomioka is... He must be...

"I'm afraid you and your girl got in trouble in the wrong city, sweet boy," a young woman with a haori that reminds him of butterfly wings chuckles. Tanjirou notices that she's also carrying a sword, although it looks like a small one. "You're in hashira territory now. And you brought Kibutsuji's assassins here. Now you must face all the Pillars."

"Please... I just need to get my sister to a doctor. I promise we'll go after that and you'll never see us again."

"It's too late now," she grins gently at him at the same time Tomioka walks in the middle of them. "Oh? You've broken a few rules already, Giyuu. Do you want to break more?"

"Shinobu, he's... I'm sure they won't cause us any more trouble if we let them–"

"He needs to be judged by all the hashira, Tomioka," another young swordsman appears out of nowhere, he has a white snake around his neck; his mouth is covered.

Tomioka nods, knowing they don't have a choice now, but he gets closer to Tanjirou as if trying to shield him from the other two.

"Come," he says, as kindly as possible.

"But Nezuko is bleeding..."

"Don't worry," Shinobu smiles, clapping her hands together. "I'll take care of that."

Two people arrive and pry Nezuko away from Tanjirou. He tries to fight them, but Tomioka puts a strong hand over his shoulder to stop him.

"She'll be fine," he assures him.

However, Tanjirou knows that he's completely trapped now; if they have Nezuko he won't have other choice but to do as they say.

***

The house they walk in is huge. Tanjirou ends up sitting on the floor in a room with dim light and a table in the middle. Tomioka and Shinobu get in the room right next to it.

They don't even tell him to stay; they must know he would never leave without his sister.

He's worried, however, he doesn't get scared until he catches a few sentences of the conversation.

"See? Giyuu is putting his life at risk for them."

"That doesn't mean anything, Tengen! They mean trouble if Kibutsuji is after them."

"We're not afraid of him, Sanemi."

"No, we're not, but we also don't interfere in other people's problems."

"Besides, why do we do with Tomioka? He hid them from us all this time."

"Obanai has a point!"

"I saw the girl! She's so pretty! Is her the one you're doing this for, Giyuu? That's so romantic!"

"It's the boy, Mitsuri," Shinobu is the only voice Tanjirou recognizes because Tomioka hasn't said anything yet. Still, nothing they've been saying makes any sense to him. The only thing he's sure about is that he's in trouble. "He's doing this for Tanjirou."

"Now I'm curious, Kocho."

"Let's see him then!"

The door slides open and Tanjirou doesn't have time to react when nine people walk inside. All of them are carrying katanas.

He looks down, but a huge hand grabs him by the chin to make him look up at them.

"Hey! Be careful!"

"Calm down, Giyuu. You know me, I'd never hurt such a pretty thing like this one," the one speaking has white hair tied up in a ponytail and what it looks like a headband with a couple of gemstones all over it. His eyes are deep pink. He's one of the tallest among them.

"Come on, stand up, my boy. Let us see you!" Another says, putting both arms over his shoulders, lifting him like he weighed nothing to help him stand. His voice is loud, although the thing that surprises him the most about him is his hair and eyes. They're like fire: yellow and red. It's really difficult for Tanjirou to look away from him. "I'm Rengoku Kyojuro!"

"Kamado Tanjirou," he mumbles, after a couple of them introduce themselves.

"I want to keep him," Tokito says after a while. Uzui looks back at him with amusement.

"He's my responsibility now."

"I'm sorry, Giyuu, but you know the rules here. You too, Muichiro," Rengoku grins, cupping Tanjirou's face in his hands. Even though he knows he's in front of one of the leaders of a crime syndicate, he feels safe for a couple of seconds. "If we keep him, he's going to be under everyone's protection."

"What about Nezuko? Is she going to be alright? Will you protect her as well?"

Rengoku nods, stroking Tanjirou's hair. Right next to him, Tomioka's shoulders tense.

"Of course, but you owe us now, Tanjirou."

That's all it takes to remind himself that he's in front of dangerous people.

"I understand, I'll do my best to–"

"I can pay off his debt," Tomioka offers, surprising Tanjirou again.

"You know we don't want money, Giyuu," Shinobu says, waving her hand dismissively.

"And we want nothing from you," Tokito adds, almost bored.

"What do you want?" Tanjirou asks, nervous, even though he notices that a few of them are looking down at him with a fond expression.

Without giving him any warning, Uzui takes him in his arms, prompting Tanjirou to wrap his arms and legs around him out of instinct.

"We want to welcome you to our family," the hashira grins, confusing him.

It's hard to see them as dangerous criminals when they act like that.

"I'll introduce you to my wives..."

"Wait! I want to see Nezuko."

"Of course, my boy!" Rengoku nods, taking him away from Uzui who pouts immediately. Tomioka looks irritated, but he follows them close anyway.

She's not awake yet, but she looks much better now. She has a bandage all around her forehead and new clothes. Two girls are right there taking care of her, as soon as they see the hashira though, they start bowing nervously.

Rengoku puts Tanjirou on the bed and the boy leans to take one if Nezuko's hand in his. Tomioka kneels next to him.

"You'll be safe here, Tanjirou. I'll protect you."

He nods, feeling better despite of knowing his mother would never have approved of something like that. But what other choice does he have? If being with the hashira means Nezuko can be safe, then he'll accept it.

"You selfish, stubborn bastard! Didn't you hear, Giyuu?" Shinazugawa huffs. "We will protect the siblings from now own. Tanjirou owes us now. He's ours."

"I thought you were against this arrangement, Sanemi," Uzui chuckles, prompting the other to growl at him.

"I'm a Pillar. If the majority has decided that he's worth the risk, then he is worth it."

Even though he doesn't like when they don't mention Nezuko, part of him is glad that they consider the debt is only Tanjirou's to pay.

That way she can be free as soon as Kibutsuji stops hunting them or dies.

"No one will hurt you again," Rengoku promises, leaning enough for their foreheads to touch. His eyes are intense. "They're too afraid of us to even try."

Tanjirou is not sure, but something tells him that Muzan is not going to give up that easy.

***

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