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officebubble · 2 years

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Ontogenesis

Summary: The journey of a soldier made anew, riddled with the guilt of his past and on a steady path to redemption.

Warnings: Violence, mild language, injury, more warnings as the series progresses.

Word count: 3k

Chapter three

Underground bunker, Italy

“What do you mean they took him?!”

The Hydra agents all cower in fear at their commander’s booming voice, fumbling over their words trying to explain the situation and keep him calm. “Avengers, sir, they just took him.”, the commander pinches the bridge of his noise, taking a deep breath.

“How did those incompetent fools take my best soldier? HOW?!", the commander grabs one of the soldiers by his collar, staring into his eyes with a deadly glare, and when the agent claims to not know how they did it, the commander pushes him away, reaching behind his back to pull out a gun and shoot the guy. The other agents step back in fear, eyes drawn to the unmoving man on the ground as the commander speaks.

“Every single one of you will suffer the same fate if you do not find me my soldier, GO!”

Avengers Tower, New York

“His vitals are stable, but he shouldn’t wake for at least another day.”, Doctor Cho states as she removes her gloves, turning to Steve and Natasha as they watch the soldier, his hands and legs securely restrained to a medical bed. Steve wishes they didn’t have to go to such extreme measures, but the guy could wake any minute and start attacking them all, so it needed to be done.

“Did you find anything… irregular about his blood? Any sign of a serum like mine?”, Steve questions.

“Nothing yet but we can’t really do anything other than draw blood and take a few skin samples right now.”

Natasha frowns, “Why not?”

“Well, besides it being illegal because we don’t have consent, if we were going to actually find anything, we’d have to do a full body scan and draw a lot more blood but with his current condition, it wouldn’t be safe. We wouldn’t know what was hurting him or if he was losing too much blood, he appears to heal rather quickly also, and this prevents us from knowing any true damage that’s been done to him in the past. Personally, I think our best bet would be to take a phycological approach first, break down the wall hydra put in his mind and get him to admit what they did.”

Steve nods slowly, thanking the doctor, “I’ll talk to Stark and Banner, see what tests they can run for the mean time but in terms of getting him to talk... I think that might be out of our hands."

Upstairs in the living area, the remaining Avengers converse about their super soldier sized issue, pitching in ideas on what to do when he wakes up. Clint has taken to staying silent, claiming he was ‘on a break’ much to the other’s displeasure considering he always saw what they failed to.

“He’s going to wake up wanting to kill us all, even more than he did before, considering we strapped him to a bed.”, Sam adds.

“You never know, he might like that sort of thing.”, Tony smirks, twirling a pen between his fingers.

Everybody throws him unamused glances and he laughs, sitting up, “Lighten up guys, we have him now and there’s no way he’ll escape those restraints, I know because I made them myself.”

Bruce sighs at Tony’s confidence, placing his head in his hands as he thinks, “I wouldn’t be so confident about that, Tony.”

Tony chuckles, frowning, “Why’s that?”

“He hasn’t even woken up yet, for all we know he could tear those cuffs apart like their nothing.”

“That’s a fair observation Brucie, but he won’t. Jarvis will alert us of any movement from him and any jumps in his heart rate and if he gets too rowdy, we’ll sedate him.”

Steve walks in just in time to hear the end of Tony’s sentence, shaking his head, “We can’t keep sedating him, he’s not an animal.”

The room turns to Steve and Natasha as they walk in, catching Steve’s almost disappointed expression.

“How’s he doing?”, Sam asks.

“He’s stable but Cho said we can’t do much for him while he’s out.”, Natasha explains as she takes a seat next to Clint on the couch.

“When’s he going to wake up?”

Steve walks to the kitchen, getting a bottle of water before speaking, “A Day or so, but I want to be ready for when he does.” and with that, he leaves, presumably to the training room.

The team all look to Natasha once he’s out of sight and she frowns, “What?”

Tony voices the reason for their stares, “You can read that guy like a book, what’s he planning?”

Natasha shrugs as she sits up, “I’m not 100 percent sure, but Cho said we’d have to take a phycological approach if we wanted to get any substantial results and Steve claimed that was ‘out of our hands’.”

“Out of our hands? What does that mean?”

Natasha looks to Clint, “Where did he take the last super solider who needed help talking?”

The team sit in silence as they ponder her words, they all knew what she was trying to say they just didn’t understand how Steve was going to pull it off. T’Challa understood how much Bucky meant to Steve so they took him willingly, but this time around, Steve would be asking them to take in a complete stranger that was a threat to their safety as long as he was under hydra’s control. It didn’t seem like it was a likely exchange, and as Steve trained downstairs, he was thinking the exact same thing.

12 hours later

It was late into the night when Jarvis’ voice erupted throughout the compound, everybody shooting up out of their beds at the constant ‘The soldier has woken up’ ringing through their rooms. They all glanced at each other as they met outside med bay’s doors, watching through the glass as the soldier yanked at his restraints. Steve had grabbed his shield on the way down and Natasha had a pistol held firmly in her grasp, but the atmosphere went awfully cold when the soldier looked up to stare into Steve’s eyes. He tilted his head ever so slightly to the right and there was a flash of recognition in his eyes, which Steve would have missed if he wasn’t looking so intently, before the soldier’s face went blank and his eyes turned dark and empty. This unsettled Steve, he couldn’t predict the soldier’s next movements and so he waited in the tense silence for something to happen, even when the lights began to flicker and eventually switched off, he waited. Only a few seconds had gone by, but it felt like hours before the lights turned back on and Steve felt his heart sink into his stomach at the sight of an empty bed before him. Turning to his team, he saw the look of fear lingering in their faces and when they looked to him for instructions on what to do, he kept his expression as neutral as he could as to not scare them.

“He’s still in the room, just watch your back and listen out for him.”, he whispered, carefully stepping past Tony to observe the room through the glass. From what Steve could see, everything in the room was untouched except for the tussled bed sheets and discarded hand cuffs, it was almost like the guy hadn’t even moved from the bed. His inner conflict was ceased when Tony whispered out into the air.

“Steve, has that vent always been open?”

Steve looked around for the vent Tony was talking about before feeling his shoulders slump when there was in fact a vent open at the top left corner of the room, the space inside the vent looked way too small for the man to have fit through though and it was on the ceiling. Steve didn’t understand how he would have made it up there with no noise.

“Please don’t tell me he’s in the vents.”, Sam groaned, looking up at the ceiling.

The team were all hoping the same thing when they heard a creak in the vents above them, all of them simultaneously looking up. Steve re-joined the group quickly, shield held out protectively as he stood in front of them all. The silence was deafening as they waited, until a sudden crash could be heard, and the team watched as the man dropped down from the ceiling and landed on his feet on the ground. Without his suit, the man looked a lot less ominous, but the lights were dimmed around him, and they knew what he was capable of, so they stood their ground.

“What did you do?”, the man spoke, voice low and demanding.

Everyone was shocked as they weren’t expecting him to speak but Steve was quick to respond, “We saved you, you’re safe here.”

The man didn’t move a muscle as Steve spoke, his face expressionless and Tony took this time to tip toe backwards, away from the group so that he could get his suit, the hallway being dark aided him in doing this, or so he thought. At his third step backwards, a web like substance was shot at his feet and he was stuck to the floor, his brows furrowed in puzzlement as he looked down, lifting his head to see that the soldier was now staring right at him. The rest of the team, all for Steve, all looked down at Tony’s feet and were confused as to what they were looking at, returning their attention to the man at the end of the hall.

“We don’t want to hurt you, we just want to help”, Steve uttered, lowering his shield. This proved to not be best idea because as soon as he did, the soldier moved to attack but before he could, Doctor Cho snuck up behind him and almost as if he could sense her, he turned to her, but she had already stuck a needle in his neck.

The team watched as he dropped to the floor, unconscious, looking up at Doctor Cho in bewilderment.

“Sorry about that.”, she panted, straightening out her clothes.

Steve took a moment to straighten up, taking a deep breath before walking over and slinging the man over his shoulder, “I think it’s best we put him in the holding cell, just until he calms down”.

The team agreed, Sam and Bruce heading back to bed, Tony prying the webs from his feet and heading down to the lab as Steve and Natasha took the soldier downstairs. On the walk down, Natasha rubbed her tired eyes and sighed with defeat.

“We really have no idea what we’re dealing with here.”

Steve nods, adjusting the soldier on his shoulder, “Yeah, we don’t. How did he even get up into the vent?”

“I couldn’t tell you, Steve.”

Once Steve placed the soldier on a bed in the holding cell and locked the door, he leaned his back against the glass and shut his eyes. “I have no idea what I’m going to do.”

Natasha smiles softly as she walks over to him, “How about you start with some sleep, God knows you need it.”

Steve opens his eyes to look down into hers, eyes flickering back and forth between her irises, “You’re right.”

“I’m always right.”, she jokes and Steve chuckles, following her up to where their rooms were.

Hydra facility, Russia

Hydra agents typed furiously at their computers, phone calls being made left right and centre, per the commander’s request, in search of the missing super soldier. The tension was high, and everyone could feel the anger radiating off of him as he paced back and forth, his attention focusing on an agent heading his way.

“Did you find him?”

The agent flinches at his stern tone, shaking their head “Not yet, sir, but we have a lead.”

“Go on.”

“The Avengers’ last sighting was in New York city; we believe that’s where they are keeping him.”

The commander took a moment to think before speaking, “Find out precisely where he is then report back to me immediately." The agent nodded quickly, walking off, and the commander ran his hands tiredly over his face. The Avengers were becoming a growing obstacle for him and he needed them out of his way.

The lab, Avengers Tower

“This doesn’t make any sense, he didn’t have a suit on so how could he have shot this at me?”, Tony questions as he examines the weird substance the soldier had shot at his feet, slumping back in his chair as he sighs in frustration.

Bruce furrows his brows as he searches the internet for answers, "It has such an odd molecular structure, nothing I’ve ever seen before. But you’re right, he had no suit on so I can’t imagine how he would have got a hold of it.”

“It looks exactly like a spiderweb, its freaky.”

Bruce halts his movements at this, turning to Tony, “What did you just say?”

“It’s freaky?”

Bruce shakes his head, “No, before that.”

“It looks like a spiderweb.”

Bruce turns back to his computer as he types something in, leaning back in his chair with raised eyebrows. “That’s exactly what is, Tony.”

Tony runs his hands tiredly through his hair, “That isn’t possible, Banner.”

Bruce turns the screen to Tony, showing him a spiderweb’s structure and pointing to whatever the soldier shot at Tony, “It’s exactly the same.”

Tony chuckles as he realises that Bruce is right and takes a closer look at the web like substance, “How on earth is that possible?”

Bruce shrugs, quickly turning to write something down on his notepad, “They must have replicated it, fabricated it into something of use.”

“I’d understand that, but it isn’t fabricated, it’s almost as if it came from the spider itself.”

“It can’t be real, a spiderweb would break within seconds if pulled at, but this didn’t. It stretches yet it doesn’t rip, how do you explain that?”

Tony picks up the substance in his hand and tugs it ever so slightly, watching it stretch without tearing, “You make a fair point but that’s a spiderweb if I’ve ever felt or seen one.”

Tony watches the substance in amazement before putting it back in its vile and calling out to Jarvis, “Jarvis, where’s Steve?”

“He’s in the training room, sir.”

“Ask him to come down to the lab, please, it’s urgent.”

A few minutes later, a sweaty Steve walks into the lab, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a towel, “Is everything okay?”

Tony beckons him over, handing him the spiderweb vile, “What does that look like to you?”

Steve frowns, “A spiderweb, why?”

“This, my friend, came out of that soldier downstairs and we’re slightly confused because I don’t remember him having a suit on.”

Steve takes a closer look at the vile, “He didn’t.”

Tony raises his hands in the air, letting out a breath of air, “Hydra never fail to amaze me.”

“So, you think this… came out of him?”, Steve questions, confusion written all over his face.

“We aren’t sure yet, but it’s the only explanation we have considering he didn’t have any gadgets on him.”, Bruce states.

Steve hands the vile to Bruce, scratching his head, “I could ask but I doubt he’d tell me.”

Tony shrugs, “It’s worth a try, give him one of your motivational speeches, that should work.”

Steve shakes his head with a small smile, walking away to go back to his room.

On his way there, he sees Nat in the living area reading a book, “Hey, I’m going down to talk to the kid in around 30, feel like babysitting?”

Natasha rolls her eyes, smiling, “Sure, tell me when you’re heading down.”

Steve nods and continues his walk to his room.

Holding cells, Basement floor

The soldier doesn’t look up when Steve and Natasha enter the room, settling for staring at the ceiling above him with his arms behind his head as he lays on his back on the bed. Steve looks to Natasha before walking a little closer to the cell, “Hey kid.”, he gets silence back and lowers his head. “I know these aren’t ideal conditions but it’s just a safety precaution.”, the soldier ignores Steve again and Steve almost scraps the idea altogether, but Natasha speaks suddenly.

“We heard about your little web shooter, it’s pretty weird.”, the soldier turns his head at this, staring just to the left of where he was before, she continues.

“Don’t quite know how you pulled that one off but, it’s a neat trick.”

There are a few moments of silence where Steve and Natasha watch the guy as he seems to think about his next move, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them again, breaking the silence.

“It’s not a trick.”, both Steve and Natasha hide their surprise at his words, happy they got him talking.

“Looks like a trick to me.”

The soldier sits up, facing them both, ‘Well, it isn’t.”, his voice is clipped, almost offended.

“Show us.” Natasha says, crossing her arms but the soldier doesn’t move so she sighs. “Guess it is a trick, can’t trust a trickster now can we, Steve?”

Natasha motions for Steve to follow her as she leaves and they almost get to the door before they hear something hit the cell wall, turning to see a cluster of webs on the other side of the glass. Natasha looks at it curiously, stepping closer to get a better look.

“How did you do that?”, she asks, pressing her hand to the glass, examining the webs.

The soldier doesn’t respond, but he stands, walking closer to Natasha and staring into her eyes when he gets close enough, trying to read her. Natasha tilts her head at his gaze, muttering softly “Can you show me again?”.

The soldier frowns, looking down at his wrists before walking back to his bed and facing the ceiling again without another word.

Steve watches on in silence, more confused than when he entered, but when Natasha walks up to him whispering something about the guy’s wrists, he nods before leading her out the room. “How does that even work?”

“I don’t know but that’s where he looked when I asked if he could show me again, it has to mean something right?”, Natasha looks back at the room, sighing.

“We should tell Tony, he or Banner might know.”

Natasha nods, sparing one more glance at the holding cell before following Steve to the elevators.

#Avengers #male reader #part three #slowburn

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awkwardspontaneity · 3 years

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Until The Battle Is Won

BOTW Link x GN!Sheikah!Reader

Final part of Memories of You!

AN: Hey everyone!! This is the final chapter of this story. I wanna thank everyone for sticking around with my lousy update schedule ':). Anyways, I've loved writing this story and I'm kind of sad to see it end but also I love this ending so much- even though it hurts. So grab some water, maybe a snack, some tissues, and strap in. This is long and pretty sad.

TW: gore, reader death, descriptive injuries

Summary: The final battle is here. Hyrule is in ruins as Ganon tears through every defense they had and now, the final champions must protect their Princess in the race to deliver them to their destinies.

It was dark.

Link was running through the forest, another hand in his as Y/n led the way. Their white hair was a beacon amongst the trees as he surged to keep up with their gazelle-like pace. He was focused on keeping up with the Sheikah warrior when he felt the hand slip from his. Link skidded to a stop, shouting for Y/n over the pouring rain. He knelt in front of Zelda, watching as she dug her fists into the mud beneath her. “How did it come to this? The Divine Beasts. The Guardians. They’ve all turned against us. It was... Calamity Ganon.”

Y/n had made their way back to the pair, carefully falling to their knees beside Link. He felt their hand curl around his, sensing the turmoil in him. It was all falling apart around them. They had worked so hard, faced so many trials, and made so many friends. And it was all for nothing. The fight was stacked against them, so much so that even Link was feeling the knot in his chest. They all felt helpless.

“Mipha, Urbosa, Revali, and Daruk…trapped inside those things...” the princess let out a heart-wrenching sob. “It’s all my fault!”

As Zelda cried into her hands, Y/n reached out to pull them back down, carefully pulling away the strands curled into her fists. When watery green eyes met red, the young Sheikah gave a pained smile. They linked hands with the princess and the knight, giving them both a firm squeeze. “I know it feels like we’ve already lost, like everything we’ve done has been for nothing. But we can’t think like that. We have the power of the master sword and the sealing light of the Goddess. As long as we hold our heads high and give this fight everything we have, Hyrule will survive this.”

“But I can’t use the sealing power!” Zelda pulled her hands away, fisting them in her dress to stop the shaking. Maybe if she weren’t such a failure, Hyrule wouldn’t be in danger. Her friends wouldn’t have to give their lives to face that monster. Why couldn't she do this one thing right! “I’ve tried everything and still I keep failing. Because of me they’ll die fighting the very beasts they were meant to pilot!”

“None of us can save them!” Y/n was looking down at the ground and, even through the rain, they could feel the tears sliding down their cheeks. “We can’t go back from where we are. We don’t have the time or the ability to save them from those beasts. So we must move forward. If we give up now… everything we went through…everything they are going through... it will be for nothing. And Hyrule will fall.”

Zelda surged forward, collapsing in her friend's arms. She clung to both as a sob tore from her throat. None of them could be strong. Not strong enough. Pressing his hand against Zelda’s back, Link reached out and placed a hand on Y/n’s arm. His voice was gruff, the stress and pain of what they were about to do- what they had already done, was too much for any person to bear. “All that we can do is keep fighting for their sake. We have to keep moving or we lose. We can win. We have to.”

He met Y/n’s eyes and they gave him a soft smile. They pressed their hand against his back and the princesses shoulder drawing both pairs of eyes to them. “No matter what happens, our friends will be by our side. Their wills become ours. And when you face down Ganon, you won’t be doing it alone. You’ll have the love and support of all your friends. All of Hyrule. So save your tears until the battle is won.”

Zelda sniffled, bringing a hand up to wipe at her cheek- not that it did much help with how muddy they had gotten from being on the ground. She wanted so badly to give into the crushing weight of everything that had happened. Just this morning she had held hope within her as she climbed mount Lanayru and now… she had lost everyone she loved. Her kingdom had fallen along with her father. All she had left sat here before her. Gazing at her with matching weight on their shoulders. They too felt the chains of destiny closing in around them. But they stood tall. These two bore the weight of the world without complaint and now, they placed their belief in her. The failure of a princess would not fail again. She refused to fail her friends. “Then we have no choice. We have to fight for them… and for each other.”

Y/n smiled at the princess, carefully pulling the trio together so their heads touched. “When this is over we can do as many crazy experiments as you want.”

Laughter bubbled up amongst the trio, smiles breaking through the tough exteriors they had adopted the closer Calamity had gotten. Each of them had suffered at the hands of destiny, and now they would face what could be their final battle.

Y/n choked back a sob as they thought of the sacrifices that had brought them to this point. The sacrifices they would need to make to save Hyrule. All they wanted was for their friends to be able to look over their homes with smiles. For the weights to finally be lifted from their shoulders and allow them to live their lives without the looming threats of their destinies. They knew the knight and the princess could never go forward after all that had happened since Calamity broke through but, if there was something they could do to protect those they had left, Y/n would do whatever it took.

Link watched his friends with a tightness in his chest. They were ready to face Calamity Ganon. He would protect them in the final battle and, when the time came, they would finally be free of the weight of Hyrule. He stood up, reaching a hand to the princess to pull her to her feet. Y/n placed their hand on his cheek, wiping with their thumb as he watched them. They gave a smile and he knew. They had confidence in him. He never viewed himself as a hero, no matter how many times his partner had called him one. But when Y/n looked at him it was like that pressure lifted. Like he really could defeat Ganon. And he would. No matter how long the fight lasted. To finally be able to spend his days doing what he wanted with the person he loved. To be free.

The trio took off again, heading towards the castle. Y/n stuck close this time so they could discuss battle plans with Link. They knew the most Guardians were in the fields near the castle so they would need to find a way past them. They couldn’t release the Guardians from the corruption so they would have to destroy them if they were spotted. The question was if they could destroy that many.

Y/n was starting to wish they had Robbie's anti-Guardian weaponry, even if they weren’t perfected.

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The answer was no. They could not defeat the Guardians.

They had barely made it halfway through the fields before they were spotted. Once one Guardian had seen them, the rest followed. They were surrounded in seconds and, no matter how many Link and Y/n took down, it seemed like 5 more took their places. They were more than outnumbered. They were losing hope fast.

Y/n shot three bomb arrows into Guardians eyes, barely dodging blasts from two others. As the Guardians collapsed to the ground more followed. Mechanical limbs crushing their brethren to the ground with a deadly screech. They only cared to destroy the champions that stood below them. And it was starting to feel like they would.

Another blast echoed in Y/n’s ears and they felt the burn of the laser against their cheek. Too close! They knocked an arrow when the screech of metal sounded behind them. They barely managed to roll out of the way of a destroyed Guardian collapsing to the ground where they stood. They barely came up from the ground when they were knocked back down again.

“AHHH!”

Y/n could barely hear their scream over the shrieks of metal and the ringing in their ears. Flames crackled around them but the heat was nothing compared to the agony in their shoulder. They had been hit. Their skin still burned like thousands of needles pricking their way across their chest. They could feel nothing and everything at once. Like every nerve in their body was exposed and on fire. They couldn't focus, flames and metal blurring into one. It was over, wasn't it?

“-n… Y/n… Y/N!” Y/n felt the arms around them, a sob tearing through their throat as a hand brushed against the wound. Red eyes finally focused in on teary green orbs. It was only when their vision blurred did they realize tears were falling. The princess was crying too, shouting over the noise as the young Sheikah lay limp in her arms. Her hands slipped on the blood surrounding their shoulder and Y/n shot up with a silent gasp of agony.

“Y/N! You’re okay!”

Y/n stared at the princess in front of them. “Where’s Link?”

Zelda pointed to the center of the battle where the champion fought. Y/n shot to their feet, ignoring the pain that tore through them. They drew back their bowstring. “Whistle so he comes this way princess.”

She whistled as loud as she could and Link spun to the duo. His eyes widened as an arrow streaked past him and he took off. The champion slid behind the pile of fallen Guardians as the bomb arrow exploded. Dust and flames shot into the air creating a cloud over the battlefield.

Y/n ducked under the fallen Guardian with the others, heavy breaths escaping them all. It was only a moment. A single breath of time to plan their next move.

Link was the first to move, lunging forward to inspect his partner. He had seen them fall. Seen the princess holding them in her arms. And he had thought that was it. But here Y/n sat. Injured, but alive. And that was what mattered. That they were alive. He brushed hair away from their face with a shaky smile- honestly more of a grimace. He couldn’t find the words to explain his relief. How much he needed them and that he was happy they were okay, so he stuck with simple. “I love you.”

Y/n smiled back. They always knew what he meant, like they could read every thought in his head. They had felt it too. That moment of fear that they would never see each other again. But they were still here, giving him that goofy grin he loved so much. Despite their pain, Y/n was a rock- solid and unmovable. And they gave him hope. Y/n could smile at him and he could fight until his last breath. “I love you too.”

They sat in each other's arms, taking in the moment they had together. What could be their last moment with each other. Because Y/n had a plan.

“You have to go ahead without me.”

Y/n watched their friend’s faces morph to shock, then anger. Y/n knew they would fight the idea, but they had no choice. Even as their friends protested the idea, the Sheikah held up a hand. “If you and Zelda are to make it to the castle you need a clear path.”

“You can’t take on the Guardians alone!”

“It’s the only choice.”

“You said we fight together.” Y/n met Link’s eyes and they almost broke at the agony in them. They had never seen so much painted across his visage, the boy keeping a stoic face for the sake of his role. But here they were. There weren't enough words to describe the pain they both felt, physically and mentally. They were fighting on the losing side, and now they could lose each other? It was hard to see a point in the fight with so little left.

“Leaving you is my last choice… but I need you- both of you- to survive.”

“And what about you!?”

“I’M NOT THE CHOSEN ONE!” Y/n finally allowed the tears to fall. They didn’t matter. What mattered was guiding the chosen pair to Ganon. As long as Link and Zelda survived, they had completed their duty. Their life never mattered. It didn’t hold the same weight. Choking back their sobbing, Y/n tried to smile. They had their happy moments. Made friends. Fell in love. And now they had to fulfill their destiny. No matter how much it hurt. “Right now our destinies have to part ways… and I don’t know how long we’ll be apart. So I need you to keep fighting, even when I’m not beside you. Because together I know you can beat Ganon.”

“We shouldn’t have to leave you.” Tears were swimming in his cerulean eyes. The only thing that kept Link from crying was the promise he made. He wouldn’t cry until the battle was over. “I can’t lose you. You are my life… and I can’t live without you.”

“You can.” Y/n reached out, caressing his face in their hands. “You will… because I love you. I love you in this life, and the next, and every one that follows. I will stand by you until there isn’t a reason to fight and even then, I’ll stay with you. I. Love. You.”

Link surged forwards, pressing his lips against theirs. It was desperate. He needed to convey everything he felt in the few moments left. That they would stand together no matter what time they were in. They could be ripped apart or thrown through time, or even lose all their memories and they would still share this bond. As long as destiny brought them together, they would connect like perfect halves. They completed each other.

Link was the first to pull away, hands running through Y/n’s hair and over their face. It was like he was trying to memorize every detail about them. Like if he focused he could commit Y/n to memory. He needed to be able to find them again, even if it was only within his own thoughts.

“You need to go.” Y/n broke the trance, whispering the words neither of them wanted to hear.

They had to part ways.

Link pressed a final kiss to Y/n’s forehead before he stood up. Zelda lunged forward to hug the Sheikah, sobs escaping her. She squeezed so tightly Y/n had to bite their tongue to keep the whimper at bay as pain shot through their injuries. They would bare the pain for this moment with their friend. Pulling Zelda close to their form, Y/n whispered encouragement and thanks for their time together.

When Zelda pulled away, she wiped her tears before giving a grin. She may not hold the same belief in herself that the others did, but she would do what she could. She would hold onto the strength of her friends and use it as her weapon. Everyone had protected her for a reason. She would show them it was not in vain.

With their final goodbyes Link and Zelda took off, weaving through the corpses of Guardians. Y/n waited until they had reached the open fields before stepping out from their hiding spot and whistling. Mechanics whirred to life around them as Guardians rose to defense. Y/n drew back their arrows, white hot pain flaring as their shoulder stretched. This would be their final stand. They would give it their all, here and now, so their friends could go on.

The next few moments were a blur of exploding arrows, machines being crushed, and the blasts of lasers. Y/n couldn't keep track of how many times they had pulled back the string of their bow, loosing arrow after arrow in order to keep the masses of mechanical beasts focused on their being. They reached for their quiver once more, red eyes focused on the glowing eyes of the Guardians targeting them, only to come up empty. There were no arrows left.

There was no more hiding. All the Sheikah had left were the dual blades strapped to their side and the hope their speed would be fast enough to survive.

Y/n pulled out their blades, taking off towards the closest Guardian. They jumped up the front, thrusting their blade into its eye before flipping onto the next. The process of picking off Guardians continued as the Champion flipped and twisted their way through the masses of mechanical monsters.

Flipping off the top of a Guardian, the Sheikah noticed Guardians getting away from them. They had noticed the others! Y/n ran towards where their friends were and, in their panic, missed the giant arm heading their way.

CRUNCH

With a strangled cry, the Sheikah champion hit the ground. They tried to stand, curling in on themselves as they hit the ground again with a sob. There were too many. Y/n was exhausted. Everything hurt. So. Much.

Letting out a cough, Y/n felt a warm liquid trickle down their face. They could hear the Guardian closing in on them. The rest seemed to have lost interest when the champion fell, allowing this one to make sure it was for the last time. Propping themselves up, Y/n could see the red target on their chest. Mustering all the strength left in their body, they launched their sword at the Guardian. It struck the eye and, twitching in its failure, the beast fell. Unfortunately, this drew the rest of the Guardians back to the young Sheikah on the ground. Y/n fell back to the ground.

Thump.

Guardians picked their way over mounds of mechanical parts.

Thump.

Y/n closed their eyes.

Thump.

At least it didn’t hurt anymore.

BOOM!

Golden light erupted across the fields of Hyrule, extinguishing the flames and sucking the light from the Guardians deadly eyes.

It was warm.

Y/n smiled. Zelda had done it. She wasn’t a failure. She had unlocked her sealing powers and finally, Ganon would know defeat once more.

Y/n watched the clouds clear from the sky, stars beginning to light up the night. They supposed Ganon had pulled back from the golden aura. Maybe one day they could lay under the stars with Link. Swallowing the metallic taste of their blood the fallen warrior reached a hand up. They basked in the light of the stars twinkling above. It was like they were waving the champion up to their sides. As Y/n’s light faded, the stars grew brighter, blurring together into one light.

And with a soft breath, the Sheikah Champion allowed themselves to rest at last.

------

100 years later Link stood there watching over the fields of Hyrule. Calamity Ganon had finally been defeated. Zelda was safe as was Hyrule. The duo had made their way down from the wreckage of the castle, ready to begin their new adventure. They were free of their destiny, but the memories would follow with them forever. The Hylian Champion felt a tug and he spun back to face the castle. There above floated the spirits of his fellow Champions. Finally free from the corruption of Ganon and his malice beasts. But what stole the breath from his lungs was the spirit of the one he loved- Y/n- floating there with a grin on their face. Noticing him watching, they sent him a goofy wave, knocking their spectral arm against Revali. Link let out a snort. They never changed. Their lights began to dim as the Champions began to walk away leaving him to watch their final goodbyes. He smiled softly as he saw Y/n mouth ‘I love you’, a hand pressing against their heart, something he was quick to respond to. With one last wave, the Sheikah Champion faded away. And as Link watched the spirits of his friends- his love- fade into light, he let a tear fall quickly followed by more.

The battle was won.

#legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda link x reader #loz x reader #loz link x reader #breath of the wild x reader #breath of the wild link x reader #botw link x reader #botw x reader #link x reader #reader has sheikah features like hair and eyes #awkwardspontaneity

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dameronology · 3 years

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it's no use, i just do {bucky barnes}

'if i just wanted someone to hold, then really anyone would do/i'd close my eyes and really try not to turn them into you, but it's no use, i just love you' - no use i just do, hayley williams

(a.k.a: the one where bucky needs a hug, but specifically from you)

eugh more bucky stuff from my drafts? yes. i think so. truth be told, I started writing this like 3 months ago (whenever flowers for vases came out) but it's been sat collecting dust. enjoy :-)

- jazz xx

p.s this is spoiler free!

The nights were always hardest for Bucky Barnes.

The dark always reminded him of the furthest corners of his mind; the ones holding his worst memories, skeletons collecting dust, rotting away until he forgot about them completely or forced them out with intensive therapy. Both were options that he was completely dreading - so he forced them down, forced them to the back and did everything within his power to ignore. It was easy enough during the day, when he was surrounded by his friends, occupied by work and the buzz of New York City.

Then the sun went away, and with the rising of the moon came the echoes and ghosts of Winter Soldier's past. Thanks to the likes of Netflix and YouTube, the modern world was filled with enough things to distract Bucky from the grips of his own mind. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't.

And tonight was one of the nights where it didn't. Every time he shut his eyes - squeezed them shut and gripped onto his thin blankets like a flimsy anchor to the present - he got flashbacks. Reminders of the things he'd done and the people he'd hurt. They always had the same look in their eyes, whenever they flashed into his mind. He couldn't see it then, but now he could feel again, he knew it was fear. The same look he had in his eyes every time he was clamped into a chair and forced to have the last remaining ounce of his humanity wiped.

Bucky's hold-ups about his feelings for you seemed almost comical compared to the problems he dealt with then. But he could feel more now, which meant his brain was so hyperaware of every little thing he felt for you; love, attachment, fear. All things that were enough to send him into a spiral, even if the feeling of your arms around him and lips meshed against his was the first reminder of his humanity since nineteen-forty-fucking-five.

Distance had felt like the answer. Cutting you out completely and acting like he hadn't fallen into your bed every night for six months seeking comfort. It was kind of a dick move, but it was one you understood. Actually, no, it wasn't, because you didn't understand a single thing the man ever fucking did. That's probably why you'd let him go so easily - people came and went. Maybe he was just supposed to be the latter.

How was it going, you ask? Given that Bucky had elbowed his way into your apartment complex at 3AM and was pacing outside your front door - pretty fucking terribly. Normally, he wasn't that bad at resisting the urge to seek you out, but tonight had been hard. Too hard. His hands were still shaking, shirt still sticking to his back with sweat. The nightmares had been...visual, to say the least. He felt like a monster, and you were the only person he trusted enough to convince him otherwise.

"Hey, dumbass. I have a Ring doorbell - what the fuck are you doing out there?"

Bucky jumped at the sound of your voice. Technology: 1. Barnes: 0.

The front door swung open, revealing a tired-looking you. Your hair was pushed back off your face, large nightshirt swamping your body. He knew you got mad when your beauty sleep was interrupted, but you got even madder when he suffered in silence.

"I..." Bucky trailed off.

"Nightmares. I know." You stepped aside. "Come in."

You didn't push any further, or berate him for his radio silence over the last few weeks. He was grateful for that. You were the only person who didn't ask so many questions all the time. Bucky didn't mind talking, but recounting his entire life story to Sam Wilson whilst they drove to Walmart wasn't his idea of fun.

Your apartment still felt homier than his. The walls were covered in photos of you and your friends and family, and shitty little drawings done by your various, younger relatives. Your fridge had postcards and letters hung on it, and there was clutter all over the kitchen counter. The thousands of pillows piled high on your sofa were practically a safe haven. There was a soft scent of vanilla hanging in the air from all your little diffusers, making him smile slightly.

"You got new curtains?" Bucky helplessly pointed to your window.

"How very observant of you." You placed a hand on his arm as you brushed past him. "What's going on, Buck?"

"With my life, or just tonight?"

"I don't think we have time for the first one." You fell onto the sofa. "Sit."

He took a seat beside you; not on you, but close enough so that your knees were touching. "Every time I close my eyes, I remember."

"That wasn't you." You gently reminded him, reaching out to push his hair back. "Not then and not now."

"I still did it though." He held his hands out in front of him. "These are the hands that killed innocent people. This is the brain that felt no empathy or remorse."

"No." You firmly said. "Those are the hands that fought in Wakanda, for the good fight. This is the brain that comes up with the worst jokes I've ever heard and regularly forgets to buy toilet roll."

His blue eyes wavered from the floor, capturing your gaze. He suddenly fell back against you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in your chest. Everybody else went out their way to make him seem like a monster or a saint - but you? You just made him seem like a human. There wasn't a single perfect one of those. Steve Rogers probably came close, but he was a fucking terrible driver.

"I..." Bucky trailed off. He knew what he wanted to say. Just didn't have the courage to verbalise it. "I appreciate you."

"I know." You murmured, carding a hand through his hair.

Bucky had gone to therapy. He'd taken up exercise (and boxercise and jazzercise) and yoga. He'd tried those stupid fucking cleansing smoothies that his neighbour had sold him - at the time, he had yet been introduced to the idea of multilevel marketing schemes - and gone to meditation classes. None of it worked. Not for a single second.

Then you came in the picture, and he began to see colour etched into the edges of an otherwise black and white world. Where there had been nightmares and flashbacks, he'd found a peaceful night's sleep and pleasant dreams (normally of you, truth be told). The simplicity of it was what made it so complex - because he didn't understand it. Couldn't get his head around the fact that you actually, genuinely wanted to help him.

And he knew it wasn't just your touch or the softness of your skin against his. He'd tried it - sleeping with strangers and staying around the morning after to cuddle. Anything to find human contact with the emotion and the commitment; the very two components that were the secret ingredients to the two of you working so fucking nicely.

"Thank you." Bucky murmured.

"For what?"

"For just..." He glanced up at you, blue eyes holding an emotion you couldn't quite place, "treating me like everyone else. Like a normal person."

"You are a normal person." You softly smiled. "Maybe with a little more baggage, but to the right person, that won't matter."

"Does it matter to you?"

"That's a trap." You thinned your eyes at him. "But no, it doesn't."

He tightened his grip on you, the fear and anxiety draining from his soul. He knew now more than ever that the comfort didn't come from the way he was being held, or the way he was being spoken to. It was who was holding him, and who was speaking to him. You came out on top, every time.

That was why it worked.

It was you. And there was nothing he could do about it.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x gn!reader #bucky barnes fluff #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #marvel x y/n #marvel imagine #marvel imagines

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

Text

Superstitions and Curses

Pairing: mummy!Bucky Barnes x archaeologist!Reader

Warnings: slight dubcon, obsessive and soft!dark!Bucky, mentions of torture and being buried alive.

Words: 2163.

Summary: It wasn't your first expedition, but pretty much the first time when you had helped to bring an ancient being back from the dead.

P.S. Huge thanks to dear @navegandoaciegas who helped me get inspired again <3

_______________

"Please, let me in."

You clenched the amulet in your hands, nervously staring at the door of a hotel room and hoping he wouldn't enter. Despite the fact that you were an archeologist, a woman who believed in nothing but science, you were ready to pray to all the gods if it would help to keep this creature away.

"I mean no harm to you." His husky, dangerously low voice made you lick your lips as you thought of all the things he whispered in your ear the other night. "Didn't you like the way I treat you, love?"

"It was a spell you put on me!" You furrowed your brows, making a step away from the door and bumping into a nightstand with a loud thud - the bottle of water in top of it fell down to the floor.

"A spell?" The man behind the door chuckled, and you could hear him breathing out loudly as he peered through the crack in the door, his hands pressed against the dark wood. "You know I haven't done anything of this kind. What you felt was the chemistry between us, don't deny it."

It was true. That night when all you wanted was to forget the events of the last couple of days, forget all about the whole reason why you came to this ancient country, you rushed to a bar to get drunk like a fish, hoping the next morning once you'd wake up, it would all be a bad dream and nothing more. That's where you met him, the man who you had seen laying in his grave just a couple of hours before. Of course, you didn't know it was him - he looked like any other man, enough flesh on his bones not to cause any suspicion.

Oh, but it was him. He had followed you in that bar, pretending to be a stranger eager to know you; fooling you, he soon slipped into your room where he made love to you, completely drunk and fallen under his charms. How stupid you were, trusting a complete stranger after what had happened that day.

It was several hours after when you woke up in the night, and the moonlight coming from the window lit the room a little: as you stared at the man sleeping soundly next to you, you saw the ancient symbols on his chest.

The next minute you were out of your room, hoping he wouldn't wake up in the next hour. It would give you enough time to reach the railway station.

Why was he following you? You could understand his reasons since you had pretty much broken his tomb and opened his grave, but why on Earth did he sleep with you? Why didn't he kill you? Was it some kind of a ritual? Despite the fact that you were specializing on local customs and traditions, you have never heard of anything of that kind.

"You can't get rid of me." He murmured behind the door, and you sensed something wicked, resentful in his voice.

"Why can't I? What do you want from me?" You asked on the verge of tears, your arms trembling - you very much doubted the amulet you were holding was of any use to you.

"Shhhh." He cooed softly, feeling you fear and somewhat content with it. "I promise I won't hurt you. Let me in, love. Let me in."

For a couple of seconds you froze, listening to the man breathing softly behind the door. Strangely, you could almost hear his heart beating in his chest as if he really were human, not a rotten corpse you saw in the coffin a couple of days ago. The night you spent together you felt like he was the most tender and affectionate man you had ever met. Why did he do it? What was his purpose? Why were you opening the door for him when he ordered you to do it with that hypnotic voice of his?

You realized he had entered your room once he touched your cheek with his hand, rough fingers brushing against your wet skin. Oh, apparently, you were crying.

"I know it is beyond your comprehension, but please trust me, My Immortal Beloved." He made a step forward as you shriveled and slinked back, staring at his perfectly blue eyes adorned with black kohl. "Do not be scared. Even though it seems horrifyingly wrong to you, things are exactly as they were meant to be."

Despite the fact you had a thousand questions inside your head, the words were stuck in your throat. You couldn't even scream, asking for help. Besides, it would be pretty worthless, wouldn't it? No one could protect you from someone who rose from the dead.

"You were meant to open my tomb and set me free. You were meant to resurrect my body and let my soul return to it."

When you reached the wall, your back pressed to it as if you wanted to slip through the stone, the man had inched closer to you and lowered his hand on your chest, the other one right in front of your face as he moved his hand, drawing a circle in the air with his palm. I see you. You are important to me, a sign of both trust and affection - you had seen it so many times on ancient drawings it was imprinted on your brain.

What? Why was he doing it? Why it was you who set him free? You were just one of a whole team of archaeologists and wage earners. You did nothing special, nothing that differentiated you from others - you weren't the one who physically opened it nor did you read any ancient spells locals were so superstitious about. You were as much in shock as all others when the mummy had suddenly disappeared from the tomb.

At first, even though most of you were people of science, all of you thought of ancient curses and all those archaeologists who had supposedly died from it. Then, when you came to your senses, you thought of the thieves who might had taken the mummy. But then again, although it were the remains of someone very, very important, no treasures were buried with him - apparently, this person had done something terrible when he was alive, especially remembering the curses written on the walls. So why steal just the corpse, then? Without decent care, the bones would crack within minutes of carrying them. Why would thieves want the mummy?

"I want to come back home." You whispered, shivering and averting your eyes.

"I will bring you whenever you want once you swear loyalty to me, love."

You blinked as you stared at his tanned face, symbols painted with gold shining on his temples. It was getting more and more insane with every passing minute.

"Why would I swear loyalty to you?"

"Because I am your Sun, Moon and the Stars in between."

The silence felt heavy, suffocating as you kept looking at the man, not knowing what to say. He was right - you didn't understand a thing. You didn't even know who he was and why you swearing loyalty to him seemed so important so this stranger. The only thing you knew for sure was that he was dangerous, far more dangerous than any other human being - you felt it in your bones.

"Before I d-do that, may I know your name?" You wanted to add something like "Your Majesty", but you had no idea what kind of title the man once had - that is, if he had any at all.

He chuckled, "It would be hard for you to pronounce. But you can call me James, it is the closest you can get."

A part of you was offended - for heaven's sake, you were specializing on this exact area and surely knew how to pronounce ancient names - but the other part of you now wondered how come this being knew a real English name and could actually speak modern language. Surely, he was at least a thousand years old. How come?..

"Why were you buried so disrespectfully?" You started questioning him out loud, furrowing your brows. "This is not my first expedition, but I have never seen a tomb like yours before. No treasures, no name, nothing that could identify you at all."

"The Witch-king, that's how they called me." His handsome face darkened, and the man took a step away, turning his back to you. "The one who had surpassed his high priest and could read the Book of the Dead. Once my chancellors learnt about me practicing the magic of the ancient, they made my priests spread the word to my people, and I have been overthrown. They have tortured me, blinded me, cut off my limbs, and then sealed me away in the tomb when I was still alive. Because of their fear of me and my powers, they condemned me to the worst of fates, and broke the line of kings."

As he kept speaking, his dark long robe fell down to the floor, opening his half-naked tan body to you: you saw two deep scars on his shoulders that still looked raw, horrifying you - the man was telling you the truth. He had been dismembered.

"They have cursed me to stay neither truly dead nor alive till one day somebody would open my tomb and set me free. They have kept the location of my grave a secret, thinking no one would ever discover it in the sand, but they all were wrong. I will suffer no more in that place where not a single ray of light had shone over two thousands of years."

Your head was spinning from all this, and you quietly slid to the floor, your hands in your hair as you tugged on the roots in frustration and fear. For the love of God, was it all true? Did you help resurrect the ancient being that could use some scary black magic and probably kill lots of innocent people? Did he want to drag you along with him once you swear loyalty to him? If you didn't, would he actually murder you?

"But this is of no importance now." The man turned back to you and, suddenly seeing you on the floor, hurried to gently pick you up and place you on a spacious bed, watching you with worry. "I am sorry for I have frightened you, love. I swear this was not my intention."

You had troubles understanding what his intention was, but you kept silent, too scaried to say something to him. You had a dozen thoughts what a creature like him would want to do to people for all his suffering.

You should have left that damn tomb alone when your team found twice more death traps than in any other grave. You read the curses left on the walls, but they only fueled your interest. Of course, you had never been superstitious in your entire life, so you simply disregarded all the signs that now seemed so clear you were ready to slap yourself.

"Why am I important?" You asked in a shaky voice, your eyes trailing down his chest with ancient symbols tattooed on it. "Why spending a night with me? I am just a woman. I have opened the tomb, but I was one of many."

"No, you are special. You won't understand now, not yet, but think of it as your destiny. Your fate is bound to mine."

As he inched closer to you, you finally realized you were almost in bed with a half-naked handsome man resurrected from the dead. Immediately crawling back, your stared at him wide-eyed. No, no, no, whoever he was and whatever he thought your fate was, you didn't want him in your bed the second time! Well, almost. Maybe you wanted a little bit. Just a little.

"S-so, are you going to destroy the country and claim your kingdom again?"

Your words made him laugh as he bared his perfectly white teeth while touching the side of your face.

"Two thousand years were enough to change my priorities. Ruling the world of humans who know nothing of magic isn't interesting to me anymore."

"I see. That's a relief." You murmured, still very uncomfortable with him being so close to you. "Please, can I just leave? There are millions of women, I'm sure you'll find someone more attractive to be your... your concubine."

_____________

"Concubine? I did not have a concubine, and neither did my ancestors." The man tilted his head to the side, looking at you surprised as you were ready to bite yourself for your own stupidity: of course, the rulers of these lands only started having concubines in the fourth dynasty and onwards, James was definitely either from the first or second one. "I can't let you leave, love. You will have to come with me."

Part 2

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @iheartsebastianstan @ninefuckingoneone

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #mcu #mcu fanfiction #yandere

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mythicamagic · 3 years

Text

Funeral Flowers: a Sesskag Oneshot

Summary: Sesshoumaru knows what Kagome's favourite flower is- because it just so happens Forget-Me-Nots have been filling his throat for months. Hanahaki Disease fic. Sesskag oneshot.

AN: for @drosselmeyerwrites, who is also a lover of the 'suffering Sesshoumaru' trope. She's been a lovely commenter and wholesome person in the fandom ^^

Warning: body horror elements. This is a Hanahaki Disease fic with a twist on the concept.

Words: 10,000

Rated M

@cookieasylum drew an amazing fanart for this fic so please check this fic out on Ao3!

Funeral Flowers

It started as a mere flutter. Sesshoumaru could feel it at the back of his throat: the beginnings of something that tickled and irritated his windpipe- not enough to cause anything serious, but just noticeable. This sensation only worsened with time.

Kagome looked at him like he'd grown a second head after hearing him stifle a certain noise clumsily behind his fingers.

"Huh," she mused, peering closely at him. "I don't think I've ever heard you cough before."

After a few weeks, he'd begun coughing. A little blemish that he could easily hide behind his hand. Sesshoumaru had wanted no one to notice such a shameful thing. An unwilling action, but required in order to clear his airways.

"Hn," peeling long fingers away from his down-turned mouth, he looked away. Kagome shifted bare legs in the glittering water, lounging on some rocks by a river while half-heartedly sunbathing in a tank top and shorts. Golden eyes slid back to the slim, pale stretch of her smooth, toned leg as she swayed it.

"Kind of a human action, isn't it? Do demons even get colds?" her concern only seemed to increase. "You're not sick, are you?"

"No," he huffed, adjusting himself beside her. They kept a respectable distance. 'Friends' was what she called them. Sesshoumaru tried and failed to tear his gaze away from the parting of her thighs as she stretched languidly. "I do not get sick," he added, "such a thing is beneath me."

Kagome slid both arms behind her head to act as a cushion, laying down. "A few years ago you'd have said sitting beside a priestess ankle-deep in a river would be 'beneath' you. Things change."

Sesshoumaru tilted his chin up to regard her haughtily and gave a dignified snort, adjusting his rolled-up hakama pants. "It is beneath me."

Kagome rose a brow, fluttering one hand carelessly in a shooing motion, "go on then. Leave if it's so offensive," she sighed, trying and failing to hide her smile.

No.

His body flared alive at the thought, unsettled. Sesshoumaru bit back another prickling cough, settling for clearing his throat. "You should be the one to leave. This one was here first."

"Wha- no! I got to the river before you!"

"I was referring to age. Bratty mikos should listen to their elders."

Kagome burst out laughing, sitting up to lightly bat his shoulder. "That makes you sound ancient! You're such a dork. No one else knows how much of an absolute dork you are, do they? It's a crying shame."

Sesshoumaru did not know what a 'dork' was, but he assumed it to be something unflattering. He should've been annoyed by it, aggravated. Kagome's playful, happy scent made this notion impossible.

Thin lips twitched at the edges, dragging his heels through the cool current. He couldn't honestly put into words why exactly he'd shown up, following her scent. Logically, he knew he should leave her alone.

They fell into an amicable silence again, one that had been born from months of time spent together. Odd snatches of coincidental meetings had flourished into something more, and they'd begun seeking one another out for company whenever he visited the village. Sometimes she even paid him a visit the Western Stronghold. Any demons who complained about it were silenced by how… determined the miko was to make friends. A force of nature. It had amused him to no end watching ancients tripping over themselves to try to avoid her bad books.

He could also deeply understand those who had taken an immense liking to her.

Kagome was warm and teasing, a rare thing not wholly unwelcome. Her stories of the future were interesting, personality vibrant but down to earth and occasionally sassy. He enjoyed her more than he should, a quiet, snarky male by nature basking in her effortless glow.

"What's your favourite flower?"

He blinked, "this is a question belonging to Rin. I do not expect such fanciful notions from you."

Kagome huffed and flicked her hand to splash some water over his knee. "I can talk about flowers if I want to. Shinto asked me what mine were, so I got to thinking. I'd like to know what yours are too- or do pretty dog demons baring flower crests not have an opinion on them?"

He sniffed, bringing down one leg to create a splash that soaked her side. Kagome let out a yelp. "The Shiragiku flower. "

"Oh you can't be serious!" She giggled. "When I asked what your favourite colour was, you said 'white' of all things. White! That's the absence of colour!"

"This one is aware. You kept rabbiting on about it," he wiped some imaginary lint off one shoulder.

"But still! And now you tell me you like flowers that are infamously used for funerals," blue eyes rolled skyward, glittering with mirth. "Why am I not surprised, Mr Killing Perfection?"

Thin lips lifted into a sneer free of malice. "Very well, Shikon miko. What is your favoured flower?"

Kagome hummed. "Forget-Me-Nots."

Letting out a noise between a huff and a chuckle, he shot her an exasperated look. "And you give me grief over mine. Did you not say that blue was your favoured colour?"

"Hey, Forget-me-Nots can be pink, white or blue! I'm not as predictable in my tastes as some people."

That was most definitely true, he thought flatly. She had moved on from her first love, a Hanyou- only to bond with a Daiyoukai, and then…

And then…

Kagome stood, stretching both arms above her head. Sesshoumaru knew what she'd say before she even said it, wincing and bringing a hand absentmindedly to the base of his throat. It throbbed. Now the ache even seemed to seep lower.

What is this pain in my chest? He wondered. What is this strange sensation?

"I should go."

Sesshoumaru slid tired attention up to her and nodded silently. He would not wish her well.

"Shinto will wonder where I am," she needlessly elaborated.

"Indeed."

Kagome glanced at him and dropped her arms. "What's wrong?"

He thought to tell her, not for the first time. But it was silenced by everything else that had come before. Their history. Their species. Her lack of discernible interest, her new flame. A heavy weight pressed down upon his chest. His shoulder ached.

"Nothing. I am fine."

Dark brows pulled together. Sesshoumaru stood and nudged her away with a single palm on her back that lingered too long. "Go. I am… merely hungry."

"Oh!" a look of relief swept over her face. Kagome laughed, "okay, I'll leave you in peace. Happy hunting!"

Sesshoumaru felt his chest ache and constrict while his expression remained a blank mask. He covertly winced after she'd jogged away to a trail within the forest that would take her back to Kaede's village. She stopped to wave, and he quickly wiped his expression clean again, rendering it neutral.

Kagome smiled gently, her face full of friendly affection. Sesshoumaru regally inclined his head, eyes burning.

Do not go.

She left him alone, hurrying away to see her new flame in complete ignorance.

Sesshoumaru coughed and massaged the base of his throat as soon as she was gone, frowning.

Feeling something stuck to the roof of his mouth with his tongue, he curiously parted his lips and reached behind a sharp tooth to pluck the soft, small thing out.

Damp from saliva, a tiny, pretty blue petal caught his attention, clutched between forefinger and thumb. Sesshoumaru stared. A sense of creeping foreboding slipped into the back of his mind at the discovery.

This did not bode well.

---

His affliction made visits to the village difficult. It was easier in the beginning when he could hide a few coughs and tickles of the throat. Steadily, however, the discomfort increased. Sesshoumaru needed to pick out petals from his mouth every day, and the number of them only grew with frequency. He had to remove the irritating little things every hour now.

"Lord Sesshoumaru has been picking at his teeth a lot lately," he heard Rin whisper to Jaken, pausing mid-brush. She had been tasked with caring for the old miko's horse. "Is it a toothache?"

"Shh! Don't comment on such a thing so loudly, girl! If Lord Sesshoumaru wants to do some teeth maintenance, then he may do so!" Jaken squawked, frowning up at her.

Sesshoumaru cut golden eyes to the sky and turned away.

"Ah, I didn't mean to insult you, Lord Sesshoumaru!"

"You're STILL drawing attention to it!" Jaken griped.

Pointed ears twitched, blocking out their animated voices and tuning into a set of quick footsteps. Sesshoumaru inhaled, wincing as his lungs protested- the scent of citrus, summer and home comforts reaching him long before Kagome appeared from around the side of a hut. She beamed. His heart ached.

"Hey," she called, trotting over.

"Hello, Kagome!" the little girl waved enthusiastically, wobbling.

Steadying Rin atop her wooden perch as she continued brushing the tall horse, Kagome flashed him a knowing look. "You look tense. Is it from being near the stables?" she teased.

Rin gasped, "does Lord Sesshoumaru not like horses?"

"It's their smell, you nitwit!"

Kagome frowned at Jaken, before searching Sesshoumaru's face for answers. Obviously his silence and demeanour was starting to worry her. Taking a breath, he tried to ignore the petals stuck in the gaps of his teeth. He could feel more building, pooling in the back of his throat like thick mucus.

"They are skittish and afraid of this one. It is better to keep distance."

Predictably, Kagome gentled- but surprised him by easing closer. She seized his hand, tugging- and he was helpless to do anything but follow. Heat touched his cheeks.

Kagome walked backwards, maintaining eye contact like the femme fatale she wasn't, shifting her soft touch to grasp the back of his hand, lacing lithe fingers through his. She then forced the Daiyoukai's palm to rest against a warm neck. The horse shifted slightly, tail flicking, yet it did not startle. With Kagome's prompting, Sesshoumaru glided the flat of his calloused palm down the length of its powerful neck, the thin layer of brown fur tickling his skin.

"Maji isn't like other horses, he's calm around demons. He has to be if Kaede is gonna ride him to fight Youkai," her voice glided through his ear canals like melted honey. Kagome hummed, "though she said because of her age that he might be mine soon. Weird, huh? It's like she's prepping me to be the village miko more and more."

"It is not 'weird,' it is expected," he uttered, thrilled at the prolonged touch. How foolish. The heat of her palm felt exquisite, hand clasped intimately around his. "You will make an acceptable village miko."

Blue eyes flitted up to him, smiling. She gave his hand a squeeze. "Thanks, but… sometimes I wonder if-"

"Ah, so this is where you escaped to."

Sesshoumaru stiffened. Kagome ripped her fingers away- tearing open a gaping hole inside him. He quickly stifled a cough, but it was larger this time, throat clogged. His shoulders shook, sweat dotting his brow.

Kagome was busy being scooped up by Shinto, a large male. He dressed well, for a human, a jagged scar running over one eye. A momento from his mercenary days, he'd called it, though he was now reformed.

Kagome laughed and swatted his shoulder, demanding to be put down. Jaken piped up, yelling about indecency. All the while, Sesshoumaru fought not to let anything show. To not let the agony out. The jealousy. The consuming desire to act upon instinct and take what he ached for.

He couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand seeing the male's burly, meaty hands drag over her hips to settle at the base of her spine. Like they belonged there. Sesshoumaru coughed again, drawing away.

Kagome caught the action, turning to him. "Sesshoumaru?"

He hated the concern swimming in her gaze. It would be so much easier to despise her.

"I have lingered too long," he said quietly, trying to mask the rawness of his voice. "This one should be going."

Kagome nodded slowly, "do you want some honey to soothe your throat? It sounds a little-"

"No," he quietly snapped, starting to walk away. Confusion immediately curdled in her scent, and he regretted the lapse in control. Now she'd worry.

Foolishness.

"Lord Sesshoumaru!" Jaken hurriedly ran after him, following his Lord from the village. "Bah, those humans get more presumptuous every day. I don't blame you for leaving in such a hurry," he muttered, keeping up his tangent long after they'd met the treeline of Inuyasha's forest.

Sesshoumaru unexpectedly stopped, slamming claws into tree bark and causing it to splinter.

Jaken yelped, jumping and dropping his staff. "Mi-mi Lord?" bulbous eyes widened upon seeing him stoop over slightly, silver hair obscuring ashen features.

Sesshoumaru's shoulders shook, dry heaving sounds reaching Jaken's hearing. The retainer gasped, watching him cough, gasp and choke. Thick trails of dewy saliva pooled onto the ground. Rasping noises shuddered out from clenched teeth. Trembling claws reached inside his mouth, feeling something at the back of his throat. Grasping it, Sesshoumaru fought not to gag, coughing while removing the thing and looking at it with stinging eyes.

A Forget-me-not flower sat innocently between forefinger and thumb.

Both demons stared. Phlegm soaked petals rested at Sesshoumaru's feet. Jaken stood gravely silent for a while.

"Mi Lord…" he said thinly. "You have fallen prey to something very old…"

"You will not breathe a word about it to anyone," Sesshoumaru coughed, eyes stinging. He straightened and wiped his mouth, collecting himself. He threw the flower aside.

"But-"

"No one, Jaken," Sesshoumaru hissed, molten golden eyes burning. "Or I'll kill you."

Jaken yelped and quickly bowed several times, promising wholeheartedly not to interfere.

"I-I understand! However, if it's not too much trouble, perhaps you could hear out a suggestion?"

Sesshoumaru sneered and started walking again, his breathing slightly hoarse and rasping now, no longer quiet. His lips pressed together, trying to silence himself. It proved painful, and he quickly breathed through his mouth again.

Jaken tentatively continued; "your affliction is something ancient. I know little about it, but I do remember that it's possible to have it removed before it claims your life."

Sesshoumaru stopped, hands curling into fists. Claws scraped palms.

"That will not do, either," came his soft response.

"W-why ever not, milord?! This matter is potentially deadly to demons!"

Sesshoumaru stared ahead unseeingly. He knew of the affliction too. Had recognised what it was immediately. If he removed the flowering bud from within his chest, wiped away all evidence from her from his body, then he'd lose the very thing that had made him catch the illness in the first place.

His feelings for Kagome Higurashi.

"My reasons are my own," Sesshoumaru coughed behind his hand. "I will not die. Do not fuss over trivial matters, Jaken."

His retainer gaped, hurrying after him. Fierce worry painted his features. The infamous and deadly Hanahaki Curse could fell even the strongest of Daiyoukai.

---

It interfered with eating.

Sesshoumaru thankfully did not need to eat too often, but hunger inevitably gnawed its way into his gut. Transformed, he raced through the forest on all fours in a smaller version of his true form. Low-hanging branches lashed at his face. Forget-me-not flowers lodged in his throat conglomerated into a thick mass. They were practically a ball stuck at the back of his mouth. Sesshoumaru managed to ignore it just enough to track the scent of a deer- only to lose it and find a green pheasant within range.

Barely a snack, but it would do.

With a gurgling snarl, Sesshoumaru sprang at some bushes. Squawking with distress, the bird took flight- only to be caught in his jaws. Bringing sharp teeth down elicited a satisfying crunch. The taste of iron filled his parched mouth. Tilting his head back, Sesshoumaru had every intention of swallowing it whole. He'd done so before. The bird was small enough compared to his form. However, this quickly became impossible.

Red eyes widened. The flowers acted as a barrier, preventing food from travelling down his throat.

Spitting out the bird, Sesshoumaru tore into it. He tried again and again, breaking the kill into smaller pieces. He even tried drinking from the river to wash down the flowers. Nothing worked. No food could pass into his stomach.

With a low crooning noise that hissed out between his teeth, Sesshoumaru padded away from his uneaten kill with an agitated flick of his tail.

---

It affected his sleep next.

At his Stronghold in the Western lands, Sesshoumaru set aside his paperwork and retired to bed. Curling into a nest of furs, he stretched out long legs, sprawling on one side.

Only to feel a dull ache thrum from his ribs.

Wincing and setting a hand over the spot, Sesshoumaru frowned. He was unfamiliar with the sensation, however, Kagome had once whined and complained about 'pulling a muscle.' Perhaps the tight, clamping sensation echoed that pain. Deciding to roll over onto his opposite side- he abruptly burst into a coughing fit. The angle had upset his breathing, lungs protesting.

This vicious cycle continued long into the night. He tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. Even laying still made him feel tense and pained. In the end, Sesshoumaru rose from his futon and began running.

Too tired to think, he transformed, relying on instinct to guide him. He whined softly; the ache spreading. He wheezed a little, breathing constrained despite being physically fit.

The inuyoukai sprinted to the outskirts of Kaede's village. Scenting the air, he caught a welcome fragrance on the breeze.

Mate.

Clearing the hillside with a single bound, Sesshoumaru shrank his form even further to that of a regular dog. Sniffing around the outside of a hut, fluffy ears perked. She was not home.

Where?

Following the invisible trail in the air, he padded around the village, passing by unseen by some villagers. Their lack of vigilance disgusted him. What lax security. Stopping at the Monk and Slayer's hut, he listened, hearing a soft humming from within. The sharp tang of blood, vomit, faeces and afterbirth caught his frayed attention.

The Slayer had been pregnant. From the sounds and smells of things, she had given birth and now slept while Kagome remained awake. He could pick up the faint fussing from a young babe.

Sesshoumaru stayed still, listening to the miko gently hum. Slowly, his body weakened, and the inuyoukai lay down outside the hut, resting a weary head atop large paws.

Something stirred from within, the rustle of covers. "Mn... are you alright? Want me to take over?"

"No, I'm fine," Kagome answered in a hushed tone. "He seems completely zonked out, little cutie-pie."

The Slayer paused, "your head. You said it was aching again earlier."

"Heh, Sango! You've just had another baby! Focus on yourself!" her lovely voice tinged with exasperation. "Really, everything is okay. It just hurts from time to time ever since that night with the boar youkai attack. It's no big deal."

"Prolonged headaches and amnesia does not fall under 'no big deal,' Kagome."

Laughing this off breezily, he could hear the shrug in her tone. "I just blank on a few things from the month prior to the attack. I'm sure it wasn't anything important."

Tired lids slid shut, and Sesshoumaru gained some sense of rest while imagining the woman within cradling a newborn pup instead of a gurgling infant. The two women talked some more, lulling him into a false sense of comfort even as his throat thrummed with continuous pain.

---

Breathing was a struggle.

Every inhale became a wheezing, quivering thing. Like crumpled paper that had been smoothed out and squashed too many times. Mucus constantly filled his mouth, senses clogged. His breathing ranged from laboured to a noisy, rasping thing.

He could no longer afford to visit the village. Sesshoumaru took to monitoring Rin from afar whenever he felt the need to check up on her. Needless to say, he avoided Kagome at all costs. The miko was an infamous busy body who would become a nightmare to deal with if she knew of his suffering.

Yes, that was the only reason.

However, on a random day he briefly let his guard down, the unthinkable happened.

Inuyasha found out.

If Sesshoumaru had comprised a list of all the beings he did NOT want to know about his affliction, Inuyasha would be right up there, along with his meddling mother.

Inuyasha stared, watching him with a complicated, horrified look on his gruff features. Shifting, Sesshoumaru stood from where he'd been knelt by a river.

Forget-me-nots floated downstream.

"... What the hell is wrong with you?" were the first words Inuyasha blurted out.

Sesshoumaru wiped his mouth, sneering. "I need not explain myself to you, whelp."

"Keh, if anything warrants a damn explanation, it's barfing up flowers."

He didn't need to hear anymore, turning with the intent to leave. No doubt the fool would talk nonsense, and he had no patience for such things with his current headache. His temples were pounding, throat parched.

"Why don't you just fucking tell her, you coward?"

That certainly caught his attention. Sesshoumaru halted. "What?" he croaked.

"Ya think I'm that ignorant, huh?" Inuyasha rolled his eyes, shoving both hands inside his sleeves. "I know."

"Know what, exactly," silken tones rasped. "You are but an ignorant pup. You were not raised within youkai circles, and so could not possibly understand."

"And whose fault is that?" shaking his head, Inuyasha huffed. "I dunno what crap you're yappin' on about, anyway. I'm talkin' about your secret relationship with Kagome that you had a couple of months ago."

Stiffening, Sesshoumaru felt his bones lock and throat inflame. He swallowed, wincing slightly. He flashed his teeth, "whatever you think you know, it is incorrect. A baseless assumption."

"Bullshit!"

Continuing to walk with every intention of escaping the pending conversation, he stopped dead the second Inuyasha opened his mouth; "I could smell you on her! But that all changed the second she hit her head. Did she forget you or something? You were happy to just abandon her after she stopped being useful for a good time?"

A deafening snarl upset his aching throat, ripping something inside. Blurring through the air impossibly fast, Sesshoumaru snatched up his sibling's throat and slammed him into a tree, causing the trunk to shudder.

"Silence," a blood-curdling rasp hissed out from clenched teeth like boiling steam. Crimson eyes glowed, claws itching to bury into the nuisance's windpipe.

Even while choking, Inuyasha managed to bark out a laugh, grasping a striped wrist. "You really do like her, huh? Never thought I'd see the day, bastard." White ears pulled back flat against his skull. "What's the deal? Just open your mouth and tell Kagome. Then I don't have to smell your pining ass all over the forest while you stalk her."

Burning embers were snuffed out. Sesshoumaru coughed, lifting a hand to his mouth. His shoulder thrummed, aching. "I cannot do that."

"Why not?"

"She does not remember," releasing him, the Daiyoukai stepped back. "The miko fell quite quickly for the male who rescued her that night. The fault lies with me that she sustained injury. If she is content with another, I cannot force her gaze to me."

It wasn't as though he hadn't tried. However, Kagome seemed happy with their relationship as friends. Guilt, stung pride and other such ugly emotions were all tied up with the incident.

Inuyasha blinked with disbelief, sizing him up. "When the fuck did you get so noble?" Sesshoumaru sneered, glancing away as his brother continued. "And anyway, what does that have to do with you coughing up flowers?"

Since he'd revealed more than intended as it was, Sesshoumaru felt no inclination to divulge extra information. He turned and this time; resolved not to stop walking. "Drop the subject, whelp."

"Maybe I'll tell Kagome about it."

Sesshoumaru did not falter, knowing the fool's game by now. "Do as you please," he dismissed in a wheezing, thin voice, stepping under the cool shade of weeping willow trees and leaving him behind.

---

He did not intend to revisit their old rendezvous point. Sesshoumaru had wanted to put it behind him, to let everything that had happened within the cave fade into obscurity.

The second he stepped foot within the mossy mouth of its opening, however, Kagome's lingering scent fanned over a striped cheek like a breathy exhale.

Long white lashes slid half shut. Hooded golden eyes became hazed. The memory of her salty, sweet taste wrapping around his tongue flooded his senses. Claws twitched, recalling the phantom sensation of full breasts falling into his palms as her back arched exquisitely. Her eyes had darkened into a lush, deep blue.

She'd been memorable, to say the least.

Walking further in, so that he stood fully submerged in their love-nest, Sesshoumaru basked in the illicit scents and breathy whispers he could remember caressing his hearing. It hadn't just been about sex. It never was with her.

Kagome had held his demonic hand without fear and stroked his cheek, murmuring ardently or giggling quietly. She told him things he hadn't thought he'd wanted to know before.

'You're nothing like your father' she'd said easily but with a conviction that made the ageless demon believe her. The notion should've been insulting. His sire had been unbeatable in strength, so of course he should wish to be like him.

Yet Sesshoumaru had never appreciated such compliments. He wished to be unique, bold, powerful, walking an entirely different path. Her words had been strangely welcome.

"And yet here I stand, Father," Sesshoumaru uttered to himself. In love with a mortal. Dying, because of a human woman of all things.

Just like you.

"Sesshoumaru?"

Golden eyes snapped wide open. A wave of elation, dread, guilt and longing washed over him. Every fibre of his being flared to life, muscles stiffening, heart racing. His lungs constricted.

Sesshoumaru swallowed a rasping breath, shifting to face the priestess.

Kagome crept closer, glancing around the cave curiously. "Was just in the forest to collect some things. I thought I sensed you close by. Looks like I was right. What are you doing in here?"

"Nothing," he said softly. His voice sounded fragile these days.

He could tell she was confused, radiating hurt. He hadn't visited in so long. No doubt she'd wondered why. The flowers buried within his windpipe felt heavier in her presence. He cleared his throat.

"Oh," Kagome scuffed a sandal over the dirt-covered floor. "Well... I'm glad I caught you-" she offered a tentative smile. "I've missed talking with you."

Sesshoumaru's insides screamed at him. The marks on his shoulder felt like blistering iron tongues being thrust into his flesh they wailed so loud.

Mate.

"I dunno what's kept you away," Kagome continued talking, making her way out of the cave. He followed, "but you haven't missed much. Rin is progressing nicely with her riding though. I'm not too shabby with that thin sword you gave me either, though Shinto says I need more practice."

That very sent icy needles piercing his skin. Stepping foot outside, Sesshoumaru couldn't stop the abrupt bite in his tone; "why are you here, miko?"

Kagome blinked and glanced at him over one shoulder. She then threaded her fingers behind her back, attention sliding away, voice unreadable.

"Shinto proposed to me."

Sesshoumaru stopped. A profound sense of loss rendered him breathless. He anticipated a coughing fit. Wheezing. Pain. But there was nothing, just him and Kagome standing alone in the silent woods. But she'd be beyond his reach for good soon.

He'd tried. He'd tried hard to forget, as she had. To push all the feelings and words right down from his throat into his chest. Maybe that was how the curse had started.

But he'd have kept the curse for good if it meant lingering in the 'almost' fantasy of them.

Now that illusion would shatter.

The very idea of her belonging to another felt like a wound somewhere inside him that he couldn't locate. The sensation of teeth on his shoulder thrummed, and he coughed, snuffing out the sound behind his hand.

"I didn't really know what to say," Kagome was muttering. "A part of me feels like it's too soon. I wanted to talk to you about it-"

"This one is needed elsewhere," he said in a clipped tone, turning on his heel.

He couldn't be her confidant anymore. Not about this.

"What?"

He began walking, trying to put distance between them. He should've known it wouldn't work as Kagome quickly caught up and planted herself firmly in his way, halting the demon.

"Okay, what is going on with you?" she demanded. "Is it the cough? Are you in so much pain that you can't talk to me?"

Sesshoumaru flashed his teeth in a faint sneer, throat protesting at the extended use of his vocal cords. "is it so unthinkable that for once, I may not have time for you, miko?"

"Yes," Kagome planted both hands on her hips. "Because this isn't an isolated thing. I've hardly seen you all month! And besides that, you're my friend, Sesshoumaru. Friends tell each other things. Remember how you talked about the court and how obnoxious General Kito was to deal with? Things like that. I need to talk to you about this- and clearly, you need to talk to someone about whatever's going on with you. I'm worried about you!"

His heart clenched, and Sesshoumaru bit back a hiss at the stab of pain it caused. Thin breathing rasped and rattled. He raised a hand, urging her aside via a gentle grasp on her shoulder to continue walking.

Kagome's grip was not so gentle as she latched onto his arm.

Frustration abruptly burst in his chest and Sesshoumaru snarled, whirling with the intent of spilling everything to her. Ruin their friendship. Burn everything they'd built and admit his failure to protect her-

-only to cough up a mouthful of blood onto her collarbone.

Kagome yelped in surprise, eyes wide. Touching the wet substance dazedly, horror paled her complexion. She looked up at him with palpable fear.

"S-Sesshoumaru?"

Humiliation stung white-hot and burning into his body. The visceral, blinding sensation of being exposed- of being seen- felt like too much. Too raw. As a demon unused to such things, his first instinct was to remove himself from the situation.

Sesshoumaru blurred away from her outstretched hands, putting the length of the clearing between them.

Kagome called his name again with alarm, asking him to wait, but he would not heed her call.

Taking to the skies, he flew fast and erratically, a wobbly figure. Coughing hard and feeling blood clog up his windpipe like mud, Sesshoumaru had no choice but to land not long after.

Within an overcast clearing upriver from Kagome, he steadied himself against a gnarled tree.

"Hah- hah-" he wheezed, doubling over and squeezing stinging eyes shut.

Something suddenly constricted tight around his lungs, around his very ribcage. Bones protested and ached. He gasped for breath, blood leaking from his open mouth to pool on the floor. Forget-me-nots mingled with it, petals stained red.

Jolting and snapping upright, Sesshoumaru arched his back, throwing back his head. A cry escaped him unlike any other. Loud, agonised and roaring in its ferocity tinged with pain.

Stems shot out from within his ribcage, tearing his chest asunder.

---

Her friends made noises of alarm at the sight of Kagome's bloodied clothes, but the miko ignored Sango and Miroku's questions, bypassing them in favour of finding and grabbing Jaken by the scruff of his robes.

"You're going to tell me in 10 words or less what the hell is going on with your lord," she demanded.

Jaken yelped and squinted, hanging from her hold. "Haven't the faintest idea of what you could be alluding to!" he sniffed.

Kagome snarled and bared her teeth, lifting him closer with a menacing expression and gesturing to the red substance marring her priestess robes. "This is HIS blood. He looked awful. Like- like he was dying, Jaken," her voice broke. "Please. I need to know what's happening. He won't tell me what's wrong and I'm scared."

Yellow eyes rounded wider, swallowing the imp's face. He appeared conflicted.

"Kagome!"

Releasing Jaken, Kagome shifted her attention to Inuyasha, who leapt towards her with alarm pinching his gruff features.

Dread dropped low in her stomach. That was never a good sign.

Distant snapping noises like wood being felled reached her ears. From behind the approaching Hanyou within the forest, large vines could be seen shifting and slithering over a portion of the trees.

"What is it?" Miroku gaped. "I sense a demonic aura, but it's distorted."

Kagome shuddered, feeling strange. She recognised that energy. Identified it as easy as breathing.

"Maybe a forest spirit has been disturbed?" Sango guessed, clutching her son a little more protectively.

"It ain't that," Inuyasha dropped from his jump, landing before them. He panted, white hair windswept. Of all people, his gaze landed upon the miko first. "It's Sesshoumaru."

----

Their way became blocked by a thick mass of vines crisscrossing through the forest. It created a wall, preventing any from entering.

"Lord Sesshoumaru must be further in," Miroku observed, leaning to inspect the leaves. "Beyond this 'barrier' I suppose you could call it."

"I wonder what could have happened," Kagome murmured, brows pulling together. "Sesshoumaru doesn't even have nature powers."

"Why on earth did you bring ME along for this?" a high pitched, nasally voice reached their ears. Sango and Inuyasha readily ignored it, while Kagome frowned down at the imp she held by the scruff of his robes.

"Because you're clearly hiding something, and until you come clean, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

His mouth thinned into a stubborn line, glancing away.

Kagome turned her attention back to the vines. Worry took root in her stomach. The memory of the Daiyoukai spitting up blood remained fresh in her mind, evidence of it staining her clothing and plastering it against her skin.

Handing Miroku their son, Sango went first. She swung Hiraikotsu with a seemingly effortless toss- the bone boomerang spiralling, cleaving trees in half but bouncing straight off the vine wall. It didn't so much as leave a dent.

Not wasting another moment, Inuyasha unsheathed Tetsusaiga. Everyone immediately gave him a wide berth, watching as he shook the sword out into a monstrous blade. He swung it back over one shoulder, feet planted far apart- delivering a swift blow downwards with a loud cry.

A burst of power shot out, heading straight for the vines. They made contact, and for a moment Kagome thought the consuming golden light might break through, only for it to fizzle out. The insurmountable wall remained intact.

Inuyasha tried again and again, using different techniques. None of them worked.

Nocking an arrow in her bow, Kagome took aim. Pale pink reiki split forth, coating the arrow while glowing ever more blinding until she set it free.

She held out hope as it shot through the vines, managing to burst through the dense foliage- which repaired itself almost immediately, covering up the hole.

"Nothing appears to be working," Miroku muttered, turning his friends. "Perhaps we should seek advice elsewhere first before trying to continue."

Her friend's voices faded into background noise as Kagome approached the vines. Frowning slightly, she stretched out her senses, using her aura to touch and brush against the barrier. It felt like him.

If that were the case, the wall was of Sesshoumaru's own making, whether he'd consciously chosen to hide away or not. Perhaps they were going about things the wrong way.

Thinking back to Maji and how carefully they'd run their linked hands down his neck, she raised a palm. Gradually easing closer, Kagome set it down gently onto the vines, stroking downwards.

Hearing outcries of alarm as the greenery parted, only for swirling stems to curl about her shoulders- Kagome quickly grabbed Jaken.

"It's okay, guys. Just find a way to follow me in later," she met their startled gazes. "I feel like I need to reach him quickly."

"Kagome, wait!"

Ignoring their protests, Kagome lept into the fray. She welcomed the green vines that wrapped around her, enclosing the miko and wailing kappa securely behind its wall.

---

Mercifully the winding tendrils of vines that moved as though infused with a will of their own allowed her freedom of movement. Kagome climbed through their moving, twisting stems, occasionally losing her footing and having to grasp hold of some.

"Again, I ask; WHY ARE YOU BRINGING ME ALONG WITH YOU?!" Jaken shrieked, clinging to her back and looking around fretfully.

"You know the answer to that. Tell me what you know about Sesshoumaru's situation and I'll let you go," Kagome hummed, shielding her eyes and looking up at sprawling branches above where sunlight streamed through. Maybe she could punt him over the treetops.

"I have sworn not to break my vow of silence on the matter!"

Grinding her teeth, Kagome stopped and reached over her shoulder, tearing him from her back to frown at him. "If your silence ends up hurting him, is it even worth it? Which means more to you; Sesshoumaru's trust or his life?"

Jaken clamped up, thinking about this for a moment. His eyes abruptly filled with tears, "fine! But you had best save me from his wrath once this is over."

Kagome grinned and patted him on the head, continuing to walk. "I promise."

He huffed, "Lord Sesshoumaru is suffering from a curse."

Blue eyes widened, and Kagome set Jaken over her shoulder like she would Shippo. He did not appreciate the gesture as the kit would while she minded swirling vines aside from their path and ducked through. "What kind of curse?"

"How much do you know about youkai mates, foolish mortal?"

At that, she tilted her head, noticing a blue flowering bud among the vines and gently touching it in passing. "Very little. I know they're like married couples. They, uh... make love and bite each other instead of having a wedding ceremony and stuff. That about sum it up?"

"Insolent girl!" Jaken griped, noticing the bud she touched opening up into a flower behind them. "It is far more than that! Their energies synchronise, aura's linking. However, it's quite imperative they both bite one another."

"Or else the mating is incomplete? What's so bad about that?"

"The partner that was bitten will consider them mated and suffer a one-sided attachment. This isn't so terrible if they have the bite mark healed and lose their troublesome feelings towards their mate," he continued with a self-important air. Kagome didn't mind it if it meant getting answers. "But... if they choose to linger in longing and are prevented from completing the mating, then their energies become distorted! Their youki takes on a life of its own as flowers."

"That's what these vines are," Kagome mused. She shifted, a strange, unsettled feeling churning in her gut. "You're implying someone bit Sesshoumaru? He'd never allow someone to do that if he didn't want it- let alone not reciprocate. Besides, if he could remove it, he'd have surely done so."

"I agree this situation is unprecedented! Unthinkable! Besides that, ANY partner resisting Lord Sesshoumaru's advances is unworthy of being his mate! AH-!"

Kagome jolted, feeling a weight lift from her back. Glancing over her shoulder, she gaped and strained to reach Jaken. Vines had wrapped tight around his mid-section, lifting him away.

"Hang on!" she shimmied her bow off her arm, quickly taking aim. Releasing the arrow, she watched as it hit the mark, sailing through a vine and breaking it in two. Jaken yelped, falling, only to be caught by another vine that continued dragging him back the way they'd come.

"J-just leave me!" he wailed. "Go save Lord Sesshoumaru!"

Kagome blinked, strangely touched. Nodding with conviction, she turned and hurriedly continued to make her way through the dense foliage.

---

Her breath caught the second she caught sight of the flowers.

Forget-me-nots littered the area, becoming more frequent the further in she ventured. Soon she practically waded through a sea of blue petals. They hugged trees, peppering logs, the ground beneath her feet, even climbing above to hang from branches. The vast mass of familiar flowers eventually opened out into a huge clearing packed full of them.

And there, at the centre of it all, Kagome finally saw him.

Vines had burst his chest open, putting quivering lungs on full display. To her horror, she witnessed them expanding and deflating with each struggling, wheezing breath. His ribcage had been repurposed for a vase of flowers. Vibrant blue forget-me-nots poked out between his ribs, green stems tightly wrapped around his bones, constricting.

Sesshoumaru's body lay tilted back, face turned upwards to the sky. Glassy eyes were vacant, blood caking his chin. His armour and hankimono lay shattered and torn on the ground. Around him, the stems that had spilt forth from his gut propped up his lifeless form, clearly part of the mass of greenery that had hindered her approach. Kagome covered her mouth, hand shaking. Tears pricked her eyes. Blue veins visibly spread over his flesh, causing her to wonder if the stems had buried beneath his very skin.

This was not Sesshoumaru. It couldn't be.

Choking on nothing, Kagome hurried closer with a thin noise. Reaching his motionless form, her hands hovered uselessly over his decimated chest. She didn't know where to start. How could she even help him?

"Who did this to you?" her voice wobbled. Stinging eyes misted over, running over his body. He looked like a corpse that had been picked clean by crows. His moving lungs moving were the only indication he was even alive.

"Sesshoumaru- I don't know if you can hear me," Kagome tried, reaching out and touching his cheek. It shocked her skin, icy to the touch. "But please- let go of the person who caused this," she said, locating what she assumed was the mating mark upon his shoulder. "No one is worth dying over. You could start over with your mate. Ask them out- anything!" she shuddered, looking at the flowers poking out from his ribs.

"Just don't die! This isn't like you!" Kagome snapped, tears rolling hotly down her cheeks to slide free from her chin. "Fight this! Keep living. T-there's still so much I want to talk to you about."

The tears landed upon pretty blue petals.

Leaning against him slightly, Kagome sobbed. She wondered if she could just reach out and rip the awful things free from inside his chest.

Why Forget-me-nots, anyway? Why not another flower-

The mating mark halted her hand, fingers brushing the stems. It didn't look like an animal bite, nor did it belong to a demon.

Kagome's eyes slowly widened. She had a distinct tooth at the back of her mouth.

The tooth marks looked like a perfect mould of her teeth.

"Was it...me?" she breathed, glancing up at Sesshoumaru's features dazedly. "Those blank spots in my memory. Was I... with you?"

The puzzle pieces slotted into place perfectly. Kagome stared, feeling like a fool for having not noticed. She'd just thought, assumed- he would never look at her like that.

But if the miko cast her memory back and pictured Sesshoumaru's lovely features, his honeyed gaze resting upon her face, half-lidded, lips quirked, face soft and drinking her in- maybe he had been looking at her 'like that' the whole time.

Kagome shook her head, feeling frantic. She latched onto his shoulders.

"I-I'm so sorry. I'm sorry! I never meant for this to happen. Why didn't you bite me? Why didn't you TELL me, you stupid demon!" she snapped, cheeks reddening as a fresh wave of tears stung her eyes. "All that time we spent together goofing off and talking- and you were suffering in silence? You're so stupid, Sesshoumaru!"

His anguished face did not stir. Kagome mindlessly wiped away the dried blood from his chin with shaky fingers.

"There's no taking this back now," she said quietly, glancing at the bite mark. "So... I guess there's only one thing for it."

It sounded terrible, but Shinto was far from her mind as she lay a hand over her mating mark and began concentrating. When resolving to save someone, Kagome became bullheaded. Sesshoumaru was all she could see as her aura rose out from her body, seeping into his bloodstream via the bite marks.

"You need to wake up," she mumbled, using her free hand to adjust the parting of her white kosode. Sliding it off one shoulder to bare her flesh, Kagome remained heedless of the vines growing and curling around them. They seeped into her ebony hair, twining into the long locks like a lover's hands.

Kagome straddled the Daiyoukai, shuddering a little at being so close to his bare bones. She couldn't have sex with him, obviously, but she suspected it wasn't truly needed to complete the bond. Feeding her energy into his body, she bit her bottom lip. Sweat beaded on her brow.

She began to mumble and pray under her breath.

When her spiritual energy had spread through most his system, Kagome grit her teeth and hoped he'd forgive her. Laying one hand atop his rib-cage directly over his heart, she raised her voice.

"Wake up!"

A pulse of reiki shot out through her palm.

Sesshoumaru jerked beneath her. A ghastly, chocking noise escaped him. His head lolled to the side as he looked at her unseeingly, a trickle of blood welling from the corner of his pale mouth. Kagome quickly wrapped an arm around him, guiding his head to her shoulder.

"Bite down, Sesshoumaru," Kagome whispered fiercely into his ear.

Sharp canines brushed her skin, causing a shiver. Wet flecks of blood accompanied it as he coughed. Whimpering with desperation, the miko curled trembling fingers into silver hair. She pressed a kiss against his cheek.

"Please- I want this." She'd do anything to save him. Besides that, a small, buried part of her felt strangely at peace with the action and its meaning. "Bite down!"

A blood-curdling snarl vibrated out from his open chest. Fangs sank deep into her shoulder. At once, dark, dominating youki burst through her system like a shot of adrenaline. Kagome gasped, back arching. It turned her heart into a burning star. Sesshoumaru's presence filled her until she practically burst at the seams. She distantly understood why youkai had sex before biting each other, reeling from it. The orgasm probably softened the intensity. Completion was something the mind could fathom, a release, the pooling of cum inside her.

This felt overwhelming. He was everywhere. His energy burned and licked, igniting and soothing her body like burning whisky.

Kagome felt the pinpricks of fresh tears in her eyes, overcome with a hurricane of emotions she couldn't quite name. She could feel his weakness. His exhaustion. The part of him tethered to her became a lifeline between them, feeding him the energy he'd lost.

Sesshoumaru's mouth peeled back from her flesh. He panted, sinking back. Kagome caught him about the shoulders, cradling him close.

A wave of tiredness sent her sinking down against him, lashes falling shut as dizziness spun her vision.

The last thing she saw before surrendering to the lure of unconsciousness was a canopy of Forget-me-nots surrounding their weary bodies.

----

Drowsy lids slowly cracked open- wincing at the setting sun's harsh orange light peeking out from between the trees. Golden eyes averted and Sesshoumaru stirred with a dusty rumble.

Something heavy lay over his bare chest. He lifted his head.

Kagome rested against his shoulder, dark hair spilling everywhere. Sesshoumaru stared, feeling he must be dreaming. They were laying within a clearing together, which looked clear, quiet and picturesque.

Squinting, he sat up, adjusting the woman against him. Kagome sank against his side, revealing a gaping hole in his flesh, exposing his rib-cage.

Ah, that's right.

The flowers. The vines spilling forth from his chest as blood asphyxiated him, making breathing impossible.

And Kagome...

The miko had come for him. Saved him.

Sesshoumaru ghosted stiff fingers over his mouth, dragging clawed nails down to the fresh bite mark branding his shoulder. He then shifted Kagome, running an aristocratic nose to similar marks adorning her shoulder- a tongue sliding out to drag over bloodied flesh. She tasted wonderful.

Kagome groaned and wrapped her arms around him tighter, burying her face in the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

Closing his eyes, Sesshoumaru held her close and revelled in the sensation. However, he soon picked up on the far off shimmer of his barrier enclosing them within their mini safe space. He could sense Inuyasha waiting outside, along with Jaken.

Deciding to lower it, Sesshoumaru rested his lips against the crown of Kagome's head before drawing himself up to stand unsteadily, lifting her into his arms.

When Inuyasha burst into the clearing, leaves scattering and clinging to his thick white hair, he brandished Tetsusaiga, only to lower it with a raised brow.

Sesshoumaru stood clad in his hakama pants, arching a regal brow in return. He approached the hanyou and passed Kagome over wordlessly, ignoring his noise of surprise at the sight of his ribcage.

"It is healing," the demon dismissed.

"Uh, alright," Inuyasha grunted, supporting Kagome. "Should I even ask what the hell happened?"

Sesshoumaru ignored him in favour of looking at the miko. His shoulder ached, and when he drew back his heel with the intention to leave- a fresh wave of discomfort elicited a wince.

Kagome stirred, blue eyes blinking open. She then drew a hand out towards him, "where are you going?"

"This one is..." he trailed off. "I must..."

"No, you don't," she murmured. Patting Inuyasha's shoulder to prompt him to set her down, Kagome flashed her friend a smile. "Thanks for coming for me, but I need to stay with this impossible guy to make sure he heals alright."

Inuyasha eyed the bite mark on her shoulder, nostrils flaring. "You sure?"

Kagome nodded firmly.

"What do ya want me to tell Shinto if he asks where ya are?"

Guilt passed over her face, and blue eyes flicked away, before finding him again. "Just say I'm visiting another village. I need to tell him the truth myself."

Relenting, Inuyasha stepped away, shooting Sesshoumaru a warning look before reluctantly leaving them be again, feeling like the wind had been thoroughly knocked out of his sails.

The Daiyoukai watched her, stunned.

"It's crazy you're even up and walking around in your condition," Kagome rubbed at her forehead, reaching out and seizing frozen fingers. "Come on, let's find a cave to take shelter in for the night."

----

The demon lord stopped and slid unrelenting attention down to her once they reached the mouth of a cave. "What made you choose this place?"

"I dunno, it wasn't far away and it felt familiar," Kagome hummed, meeting his gaze. "Have we... used it before? In the past?"

Golden eyes cracked wider. "You remember?" he asked in a quiet, brittle tone.

She shook her head, "not at all. I just figured it out. Would've been nice if you'd told me," releasing his hand, she wandered inside, finding a bed of furs awaiting them further in, cracks of sunlight streaming in through holes in the rock ceiling. Her cheeks reddened a little, imagination running wild.

"You really scared me back there," she murmured, back turned to him. "I thought you were going to die."

"That is why you completed the mating," Sesshoumaru uttered. To save him, and for no other reason.

A part of him had hoped she'd remembered, but another had immediately recognised the sacrifice she'd made. Kagome was a selfless individual in the face of danger. If Inuyasha were dying, or any of her other friends, he wondered if she'd mate them if it meant saving their lives.

With a benevolence he did not truly feel, Sesshoumaru forced himself to prioritise her comfort. "If this is not something you wish for- there are ways of severing the bond."

"Stop," she grit out, whirling to face him. Flinty blue eyes took his breath away. "Stop lying all the time. I remember valuing your company and opinion because you were always so blunt with me. You never held back your opinions."

"I am not lying, there is a way to sever it."

"But that's not what you want! Damn it- you nearly died because you couldn't open your mouth! Just be honest for once and tell me how you're feeling, Sesshoumaru. What do YOU want?"

Energy lashed at the air, kicking up a breeze that caused dark hair to fly back. Hands closed over the back of her neck, cradling her skull. Lips were shoved against hers, smothering startled breath.

"You," Sesshoumaru breathed in a brief parting, kissing her fiercely again. His mouth slanted ardently over hers, the hint of a fang brushing her lips. "Is it not obvious I cannot abide anything but having you? Foolish woman, it is for your sake I held back. Once you submit, there is no escaping me."

Kagome gaped, unable to keep up with the sheer amount of heated kisses. Her hands settled over his arms, heat igniting her cheeks. She'd never received a kiss like it before and tentatively returned it. A small gasp and accompanying noise from him only confirmed to her how much he wanted it. She could feel the tension in his frame. He was holding back even now.

When he pulled away, she panted, thumb dragging over magenta cheek stripes. "Didn't that feel so much better than burying everything?" she teased weakly. "Even if I'd rejected you, surely that would've been better than regret- than nearly dying."

Sesshoumaru's gaze slid away. He then released a long sigh, clawed hands curling in her hair. "You seemed happy with the mercenary."

"Ex-mercenary," she corrected out of habit, leaning into his touch. "And I was. I like him. But..." Kagome looked at him. Really looked, and somehow it clicked that his face was the only one she wanted to wake up to in the mornings to follow. When had things gotten to that point? Had she wanted this while lazing on the riverbank with him so long ago? Things would've been so much more simple if she'd identified it sooner. If he'd said something.

How foolish they both were.

Stepping closer, she blushed and tilting her head back in order to ghost her lips over a firm jaw. "I like you more."

Power sparked her insides at the ensuing shudder he gave. "Mating entails more than 'liking' one another, miko. Can you deal with my extended company? Being mine?"

Kagome pretended to consider this. "For how long?"

His lips quirked. "Centuries. Possibly thousands of years."

"That's a long time," her eyes danced. "I guess I'm okay with that if you work on your communication skills."

He inclined his head gravely, dipping his nose into her hair and inhaling a lungful. It felt so good to have clear airways again.

"Sesshoumaru, there is something I want to ask you about; Why didn't you bite me? And what happened during that night I lost my memories?"

"I intended to, miko," he said with dark promise. Displeasure curled his lip. "You managed to bite me during climax. I do not think you understood the ramifications of it at the time. I would have reciprocated nonetheless. Unfortunately, my senses- brilliant as they are- sensed a disturbance in the forest. A herd of boar youkai were bolting towards your precious village."

He could scowl all he wanted about it, but Kagome knew of his attachment to Rin. No doubt they'd both wasted no further time in lovemaking and quickly made for the village.

"We fought them, tried to redirect them. You asked me to save a boy that had fallen during the village's impromptu evacuation. Naturally, I did so- but it meant leaving you alone."

Kagome winced. Her hand found the back of her head, remembering waking to a sizable bump and stitches. "They got me, huh?"

"One struck you down," Sesshoumaru uttered with a weary tone. "I did not know where you were, as we had become separated in the chaos. When I eventually found you... the mercenary was nursing your wounds."

"I remember," she said gently. A stab of sympathy clenched her heart. Stroking a hand down his bicep, she sighed. "That must've been awful, to lose me so soon after almost completing the mating. I didn't realise, didn't recall our relationship. I greeted you so casually and didn't get why you were lingering around in his hut."

"The fault is not yours," Sesshoumaru rested large hands possessively on her hips.

Kagome glanced at him, squinting. "Neither is it yours," she pressed her fingers to his lips when he opened his mouth. "Nope! Not yours. I wouldn't have wanted you to prioritise guarding me that night. If you had, that boy you saved might've lost his life. Besides, I can usually take care of myself. They caught me on a bad day."

The two fell into silence. Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, resting thin lips against the crown of her head while Kagome leaned carefully against him.

"I find it weird that we've had a whole conversation while you have a massive hole in your chest. At least I can't see your whole ribcage like before. Seems like the skin and muscle are repairing," she mumbled.

"It will heal quickly," he dismissed, palms gliding over her back.

Kagome made a soft noise, basking in his warmth. "It's also weird that this feels so natural to me," she lifted her head, catching his eye. "I might not remember us. Ever. So just... promise me you won't search for my past self in me. I've been through that before."

He swept her down into the furs, covering her form with his own. "Hn, we will live in the present."

Heat flushed her cheeks as she sank into the soft, comforting furs. Her heart fluttered, stomach jumping. "Thank you."

A silver curtain of hair blocked out their surroundings as Kagome pulled him closer, both mindful of his injury. She smiled, searching his gaze and slowly delivering a sweet kiss to his lips.

Sesshoumaru let out a long sigh of relief, their foreheads meeting.

"Hey, on the bright side..." Kagome gave him a cheeky grin. "I get to experience my 'first time' with you again."

Astonishment painted his features. A simmering, darkly satisfied look soon replaced it, transforming his face into something more raw and honest. Kagome accepted his anticipation, his hunger, not dissuading him from it. She endeavoured to encourage even more displays of emotion from him.

"You don't need to hold back," she murmured, accepting his searing kiss. "Tell me everything you've wanted to say to me since losing my memory. I don't mind."

Their energies twined once more, and the miko hooked her leg over his hip to anchor him against her without any seductive intentions. She merely wanted him close, and Sesshoumaru did not argue, burying closer to her the second he healed. Skin met skin, noses brushing.

In the hush that followed, Sesshoumaru took his lips to her ear and began talking.

End

#Sesskag #Sesshoumaru x Kagome #sesskag fanfiction #Inuyasha #Kagome Higurashi #Sesshoumaru

147 notes · View notes

dancingazaleas · 3 years

Note

Can you write a modern au Historia Reiss x fem!reader imagine where the reader is in a band and has a very punk rock style, and Historias the popular cheerleader everybody drools over, and they hate each other but at a party some girl is flirting with the reader so historia takes her and fucks the reader silly in a bathroom and after confesses her feelings to r?

historia reiss | promise

ofc!!! pls i literally love cheerleader!historia. i hope this is good enough <33 !!

18+ pls ! [unedited]

warnings/notes: cursing, use of alcohol and drugs, eventual smut, jealous dom!historia, modern au!, college au!, cheerleader!historia, bathroom sex, degradation, slight praise, enemies to lovers supremacy, fem reader!, finger fucking, hints at pegging, and aftercare

you’re pissed, so pissed that you’re seeing white. you only know that you’re sitting under the bleachers of your college campus and that your best friend, annie, is sitting beside you.

historia reiss, the popular cheerleader adored by everyone, decided it would funny if she pulled a prank on you. the prank being drenched in ice water and then pouring pink glitter on your body from the second floor of campus.

the glitter stuck everywhere, even in your mouth. before you scrubbed some of it off, you looked like a bath bomb. the water made it stickier and made you cold.

you don’t know what kind of vendetta historia has against you, you’ve only just met her two years ago! you hadn’t even really talked her up until your freshman year of college. even then, you don’t think you had said anything rude or wrong.

you just assume she gets pleasure out of your suffering.

you’re ranting about historia to annie, who witnessed the whole incident, still covered head-to-toe in glitter. she’s smoking a cigarette and listening to you absentmindedly, a sign that she’s getting slightly annoyed. she grabs your jaw with her hand and turns your face towards her. she’s taking in a breath and you know exactly what she’s about to do.

when she pulls the cigarette away, she blows the smoke into your face and let’s go of your jaw.

“thanks for that,” you grunt, the smell always seems to calm you down for some odd reason.

“y’know, instead of ranting, you could go home and take a shower,” she looks sleepy as she holds onto her cigarette.

“i know. but she’s just so frustrating! wanna know what makes her even more frustrating?!”

annie decides to play along, she thinks you ranting is funny, “what?”

“she’s hot. scratch that, she’s literally gorgeous. she looks like a fucking goddess and has the personality of a witch,” you shout angrily, following annie’s movements of getting up and walking towards your dorm.

“i dunno,” she snickers, “she’s pretty nice to me.”

“yeah, cause she’s got some sort of vendetta against me. i swear—i have never done a single thing to her!! do you remember when she bashed our band?! does she even listen to punk?!”

annie’s made a mistake in encouraging you, “anyways. speaking of our band, don’t forget we’re playing tonight at eren’s house.”

“you mean at his frat house,” you snort, bumping your shoulder into her’s. you immediately regret it when you pull away and see pink glitter stick to her shirt and a shiver going down her spine.

“yeah, whatever. thank god he’s loaded enough to pay for a band. i can’t believe his dad just gives him and zeke cash,” annie coughs while she chuckles, smoke puffing out of her nose.

you’re laughing at her coughing, slapping her firmly on the back as you walk.

you don’t notice large blue eyes staring at you from far away.

————

you’re trying to ignore the idiotic comments annie’s making while mikasa does your eyeliner.

you, mikasa, annie, and—surprisngly—jean are getting ready for your show tonight.

originally, it had just been you, annie, and mikasa until mikasa and jean had started dating. she vouched that he could play the drums—and he definelty could. he also gets along surprisingly well with you and annie.

mikasa usually sings back-up for you—despite your begging for her to be the lead—and plays the electric keyboard.

annie’s on bass guitar. she gets stupidly smug everytime she’s done playing and the praise she gets from her girlfriend doesn’t help. annie also writes most of your songs.

“guys, we should make a bet,” annie’s twirling some of her hair, eyeing you and mikasa.

“what’s the bet,” jean smirks and raises a bushy brow. mikasa and you give a hum of approval.

“i bet that one girl is gonna be all over (name) tonight,” you snort sarcastically.

“elizabeth? i think she’s trying to seduce me so i’ll partner up with her for this project we have coming up in our music history class,” mikasa’s pullled away, screwing the cap of the eyeliner back onto the bottle. she hands you coal black lipstick.

“you know what i bet,” jean starts, you know it isn’t gonna be good, “historia’s gonna be eyefucking (name) all night.”

you’re in the middle of applying lipstick but you stop at his statement.

“no, before you say something, jean’s gotta point,” mikasa muses, fanning her hand.

“yeah. dunno how you didn’t noticed,” annie shrugs, hopping out of her chair and stretching her arms upwards.

you’re irritated and finished with your lipstick, eyebrows furrowed bitterly.

“anyways,” you grit your teeth, “it’s showtime.”

————

it’s been five minutes since you and the band performed, and after all that belting you just want a drink. you’re walking through the messy and huge kitchen, trying to avoid stepping on spilled shots and egg yolk—who knows—because these boots were expensive.

luckily, most people are partying like a mob in the main room of the smelly frat house. it smells like weed, everywhere. and when you open the fridge you see a long platter of chocolate brownies, is eren alright? you shrug internally, snatching a water bottle that’s sitting on the top shelf.

after you’ve closed the fridge door and opened it, you’re chugging the water bottle like your life depends on it. when you pull away, you try to not notice the lipstick stain and that you’ve drank the bottle more than halfway. you’re leaning on the island in the middle of the kitchen, you don’t plan on partying too much since you’re supposed to be the designated driver for annie, mikasa, and jean.

you’re about to take another swig of your water, eyes staring down at your phone and continuing to read a article. before you can bring the bottle to your lips, teasing laughter from your front is distracting you.

it’s historia, wearing a baby blue v-neck tank top that ends at her ribs. she has a white skirt on, pulled up to the middle of her bellybutton and stopping at her upper thighs. her shoes are white and chunky with sparkly blue butterflies on the sides of them. her makeup’s cute, a light blue sprinkling on the outside corners of her eyes that tickled her cheekbones, a light and natural (for her at least) pink lipstick on her lips coated with shiny gloss. she’s pretty.

“fuck do you want,” you frown with narrowed eyes, you’re praying there aren’t anymore tricks.

“nothing, nothing!,” she’s got a cheery smile on her face, “just wanted to see how you were doing! i cant even do that?”

rolling your eyes, you scoff, “not after you drenched me in ice cold water and then poured glitter on me. it took me two hours to get rid of the glitter in the shower.”

she’s opening her mouth, but you’re already done with her shit, “fuck off, dude.”

you’re stomping out of the kitchen, huffing with frustration. what the fuck was historia trying to play at? she’s such a cunt, pulling these mean pranks on you with no provocation and then coming up to you after and asking how you are?

you’re seething. you’re so angry you’re not even paying attention to where you’re going.

but it’s interrupted when you bump into someone’s back. lower... back.

said person, turns around and looks down at you. she’s tall, and you’ve seen her around campus with eren and zeke. she’s quiet and cunning, you’ve heard rumors that she gets paid to beat people up sometimes. you can’t really judge her, money’s money.

but she’s also gorgeous. glowing gold eyes and choppy blonde hair. she’s wearing a loose black blazer that closes at her sternum and down, with nothing underneath. she’s got some kind of necklace—you think it says ‘p’ or ‘z’—and pretty silver rings on her fingers. her heels make her tower over you more than she probably would without them on.

“shit, my bad,” you sigh and look away.

she shakes her head, the tiniest smile painting her face and her cheeks turn a little red.

“you’re alright,” she hums, “i don’t think i’ve met you. i’ve definitely seen you around, but no one’s ever given me a name.”

“oh, i’m (name),” you smile shyly, “i don’t know your name either.”

she chuckles a bit, somehow wrapping her hand in your’s and leading you to a nice loveseat. her nails are painted black and you feel inclined to put your legs over her lap.

“i’m surprised,” and that’s when you notice zeke and pieck on the couch next to you, “there are a lot of rumors about me. however, i guess whoever told you—or didn’t—left me anonymous. i’m yelena.”

you give a laugh, watching her throw her arm up onto the top of the couch. you’re cuddling her side within seconds, drawing a deep chuckle from her. her other hand reaches to your cheek, making you look up at her. she’s holding your chin with her thumb and staring at you with her hypnotizing eyes.

“you’re just the cutest,” she mumbles, letting go of your face and tapping your nose.

you’re getting embarrassed at the attention, and you don’t know what to say other than ‘thank you’. you’ve never been pussy whipped a day in your entire life, but you think you might change that.

she’s leaning in closer, ignoring the couple, who was staring at you two with amusement, that sat on the couch cuddling. you feel like you recognize them for a moment, but the thought it forgotten whenever yelena kisses you fervently.

she’s running her tongue across your lip and the shiver that goes down your spine makes you realize she has a tongue piercing. she’s pushing you down to lay on the couch, to which you happily oblige, her hand crawling up to your neck.

before you can even let her shove her tongue in your mouth and choke you, your hand is being tugged and all of a sudden your upper torso and body is on the floor and your head is aching. you’re dazedly looking at yelena, who’s just as surprised as you are, then turning to the couple on the couch.

holy fucking hell, how did you not realize that the couple was pieck and zeke. that isn’t even your main focus when another tug to your wrist pulls your lower half off the couch.

“what the fuck?!” you’re suddenly not dazed anymore, “let go of me!”

you’re snatching your arm away and scrambling to your feet, tugging down your short dress that rode up. you turn around to face the assaulter, only to look down and see historia.

historia grabbed you?!

before you can even scream or slap her, she’s, once again, pulling you away by your wrist. for such a small girl, she’s got a tight grip.

you’re stumbling as you follow her, not like you couldn’t, yelling profanities. you pass by annie, who spits out her drink at the sight of you, it startles her girlfriend, hitch. you mouth a ‘help!’ towards her just as you’re swung forward.

it takes you a second to balance yourself out, and before you can turn yourself around, you’re being shoved forward.

what the fuck is her deal?!

you’re pushed into a bathroom, finally turning around to see historia as you fall on your ass. she’s slammed the door closed and locked it, staring at you on the ground.

“the fuck is your damage,” you scream, leaning against the bathroom counter.

“you’re a fucking slut, that’s what!” she’s yelling back, now standing in front of you. her hands are trapping you against the counter, and you’re looking down at her.

“you’re a dirty little slut. you can’t help but get down with a woman when i’m not with you for five fucking minutes,” you can’t even open your mouth and opted to push yourself towards the counter more as you squeeze your thighs together.

“look at you,” she’s laughing mockingly, “you look like a dog in heat. are you enjoying this, you fucking whore?”

you whimper, shaking your head side-to-side.

“you’re a liar,” she’s laughing again, standing on her tip toes to brush her lips against your’s.

“i’m not.”

“if you’re not, go ahead and push me away then,” she smirks, leaning closer.

you look away, listening to the mocking giggle that she was releasing right in your face. her left hand is grabbing you by the jaw and forcing you to look at her.

“can i kiss you,” her look softens and you nod at her.

“yes,” and within a second, her lips are on your’s. the kiss is surprisingly gentle and sweet.

with a bit on your lip, her tongue is rubbing against your’s and her hands sliding under the thin straps of your dress. you’re whining when she pulls away and laughs. your dress is halfway down your body, chest jumping up and down as you pant from the lack of breath.

“look at you, baby,” she turns your head to the side, which gives you a profile view of yourself in the mirror. your lipstick’s smudged in the corner of your mouth, eyeliner’s smuged as well as your eyeshadow.

weak product.

“you need better makeup,” she’s giggling as she leans her head towards your neck.

she’s kissing and sucking almost everywhere on your neck and chest, as if she were marking her property. moans are bouncing off the walls as her hands release your boobs from the strapless bra you’re wearing and sucking on your nipples. honestly, you’re glad it’s off. it’s been tiring having to pull it up everytime it slipped even just a bit.

you tug at her blonde hair when her small hand gropes one tit and her mouth bites at the other. she’s tugging the rest of your dress down with her free hand, and it pools around your boots. she goes back up to kiss your lips, laughing in your mouth as you struggle to kick off your boots. she’s kissing at your cheek and ear, tugging at the waistline of your fishnet tights.

“might wanna take these off too if you don’t want them ripped,” yelping when she bites at your earlobe.

“i...,” you’re catching your breath, “need help.”

she giggles while nodding, helping you shimmying the tights down to your knees.

“jump up on the counter, babe. it’ll make it easier for me,” you’re obident and jumping on the cool bathroom counter, it makes you shiver.

historia’s on her knees, shoes kicked off, and her fingers tickle your legs when she’s sliding the tights off your legs. she’s got a sultry look on her face when she throws said tights over her shoulder, palming your kneecaps. she bites back her smirk when she pulls your knees apart, showing off your black panties. you fall back against the mirror and you lean mostly on your elbows, ignoring the loud bang that came from it.

her mouth’s leaving open mouthed kisses against your inner thighs, pants leaving your mouth. her fingers hook around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down quickly whenever you lift your hips.

your going to close your legs, but her hands prevent you from doing so. her eyes are glued to your pussy, lips spread open and your wetness shining in the light. you’ve got a little hair on your pubis, but that isn’t going to stop historia reiss from changing her name to sasha braus.

she’s sucking at your clit and spreading your legs apart as far as she can. she pulls away from your pussy just for a second.

“keep your legs open,” she says, a thumb rubbing circles into your clit.

it’s lazy and it’s satisfying, but it’s not enough to make you cum. she knows that.

you’re letting out high pitched moans and fingers tangled in her golden locks as she eats you out like a man starved.

‘i wish i had realized that i’m gay sooner,’ you think as historia slowly slides her middle finger inside of you.

you’re throwing your head back against the mirror when she suddenly adds a second finger, claiming that you could take it since you’re a slut.

considering your wetness is dripping down your ass and onto the counter, you can’t really object the statement.

she’s curling her fingers inside you, mouth closed around your clit. your moans go up an octave when she finds the spongy part inside of you, thrusting her fingers in and out of you after she angles her digits.

“fuck!” you moan and start clawing at historia’s free arm, which is holding down your hips.

“h-historia...,” you pant, “gonna cum... pl..please let me cum.”

her laughter sends vibrations across your clit, and that’s what sends you over the edge. you’re crying out as historia helps you ride out your orgasm by slowing her fingers down and pulling away from your clit. historia’s admiring you while she wipes off your juices from her chin, a small smile adorning her lips.

your head is thrown back against the mirror—once again. eyes rolled back and mouth opened in a silent moan. the hand that was gripping at her arm is clenched in a fist that has your knuckles painted white. your toes are curled and your back is arching in the air.

she doesn’t pull her fingers out of you until your calm, letting you catch your breath before she does it all over again.

———

your legs are trembling as she helps you sit down on the toilet.

you know you look like a mess—historia’s been forcing you to watch yourself. the eyeliner and mascara you have on is now smeared and ran down your face since you cried. your lipstick is smeared up and down, worse than last time, and your hair is messed up and tangled from historia pulling on it.

historia’s squatting before you, looking for a rag to wet down and clean you up with.

“next cabinet over,” you breath, throwing your head back.

“you know who’s bathroom this is?”

“yeah, jean’s in this frat too. him and marco share it. this place is pretty nice when there isn’t a party going on,” you giggle, somehow this whole situation seems funny to you.

she’s running hot water over the rag she now has, staring at herself in the mirror. historia’s got hickeys on her neck too and teeth marks on shoulders. she’s got glittery blue on her cheek, must be her mascara.

she turns off the water and wrings it out. she walks over to you, nudging your legs open with her knee. you comply and absentmindedly reach for one of her hands to hold. she takes the offer, squatting in front of you and cleaning up the slightly dried cum and juices on your thighs and vagina.

you shiver and let out little whines and whimpers, still sensitive from the previous orgasms. historia was also still wearing something. something that you didn’t even know she had.

a fucking 6 inch strap on.

“by the way,” you start, “how’d you get your strap-on here?”

“i came to the house before eren started throwing the party. i brought a bag with me and just hid it in the empty cabinet. i think eren wanted to hook up with me and mentioned something about pegging. brought it in case,” she explains, small smile spreading across her face as she starts cleaning your face.

you start giggling again, the hand that wasn’t holding her hand weakly grabbing at her wrist.

“hisu... can i get a kiss,” you pucker your lips when she pulls away the rag from you. she flips the rag to a clean slide, rubbing herself in the same areas as she did for you.

historia holds your cheek and gives you the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had.

“i’m gonna take you back to mine and ymir’s place. you’re still in sub-space and you wobble instead of walk,” she says, squatting down again to help you get your panties on.

she’s able to get your dress on the lower half of your body, but you both realize there’s a fucking cum stain on the chest. historia gives you a jacket that was in her bag, zipping it halfway. the dress stayed sitting at your waist, you’re to tired to get it open even if you have a cover up.

she’s done cleaning everything up within ten minutes, including herself. she throws the rag in a hamper in the bathroom closet that had jean’s name written on it in sharpie.

she’s slipping the bag on her shoulder and helping you walk with the other one. when you walk out, ymir is leaning on the wall by the door with a smirk.

ymir squats down a bit, laughing at your shaky legs every time you took a step. historia and her manage to get you on ymir’s back. you fall asleep before you three can get to the car.

———

when you wake up, your whole lower body is sore. your eyelids feel heavy as you open them, coming to your senses. you recognize ‘dance moms’ playing in the background and historia eating cereal as she watches.

you groan lowly, and historia finally notices your consciousness.

“so...,” you yawn while you stretch your arms up into the air, “talk about last night?”

historia nods while she chews, “so basically, i was jealous that you were hooking up with another girl that wasn’t me.”

“but why would you be jealous...? i thought you hated me,” you rub your cheek against the pillow you’re laying your head on.

historia blushes as she looks away with a pout, “i never hated you... i just... i didn’t like the feelings i have for you.”

“oh,” you lay on your back and ignore the heat rushing to your cheeks, “what are.... the feelings..?”

“i may or may not love you,” she hides her face by holding her bowl full of cereal to her chin.

you don’t say anything for a few moments, trying to think of what you wanted to say.

“i... i love you too. but, that doesn’t just mean i forgive and forget all the horrible shit you’ve done to me. i’ll start dating you when i feel that you’ve... ‘atoned’ for your sins,” you sigh, “it’s gonna take some time but if you want this to work or even start, you’ve gotta make it up to me and understand where i’m coming from.”

she looks at you with slight excitement, “i... of course! i was really mean to you and you didn’t deserve that, no matter how much i disliked you. i promise to make it up to you.”

she’s holding her pinky finger up to you.

you smile and link your pinkies with her’s, “promise.”

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #historia reiss #historia x reader #anime

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vibraniumwing · 4 years

Text

what once was mine.

a neville longbottom x reader wherein the reader catches a disease that everyone fears to get, and when the former realizes what was happening, it was all too late.

WARNING: angst, hanahaki!au, mentions of death, major character death

A/N: okay so this is my own entry for my writing challenge !! the chaotic eggs were talking about hanahaki fics and i just couldn’t shake this idea off. i hate writing angst for this little bean but i JUST can’t let this go.

prompt: healing incantation from tangled.

word count: 3.2k

---

Neville walked through the path of what was once his safe haven, the chilling air biting into his skin as he reached the only tree that was in the middle of the vast land that was littered with flowers.

For the beautiful place that once brought him joy, also gave him despair.

---

You and Nevile got along quite well due to the fact that the two of you grew up next to each other and that you’ve always had this special bond over plants— whether it be magical or just the normal kind— meaning that you mostly bonded over tending to the plants at the greenhouse and helping Professor Sprout during your free time.

He would usually teach you the magical properties of the plants you’ve studied for in Herbology while you teach him certain meanings and symbolisms for flowers that you’ve studied in your free time.

---

Neville was making his way to the greenhouse when he heard a gentle voice through the window, peeking through, he saw you gently spray the pots of dittany with water as you quietly sang,

“Flower, gleam and glow Let your power shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine”

He mesmerized by the way you carried out the song, capturing him in a trance as you continued to sing and tend to the plant, unaware of his presence,

“Heal what has been hurt Change the Fate's design Save what has been lost Bring back what once was mine”

Your voice growing more silent as you ended the song, only noticing his presence as you turn around and see him looking at you with a rather dazed expression, amazed at what you’ve performed in front of him.

“Nev! how long have you been there?” You question, nearly dropping the watering can, cheeks flushed at the realization that he heard you singing.

He smiled at you shyly, “Just enough to hear you sing, why have you never told me that you sing so well?” he questioned, jogging to the door and entered the greenhouse, the smile still evident on his lips.

You shied away from his gaze, “It just never came up as topic, besides my singing abilities aren’t that good.” you now answer, walking back to the table to return the canister and face him, crossing your arms as you lean on the table. “Now I’m guessing you want an answer to why I was singing to them?” Questioning him, motioning to the plants that was in front of you.

He sheepishly nodded, genuinely curious at your habit.

Taking a deep breath in, you started to explain, “When I was young, my mom would always sing me this song when she’s healing the small wounds I would get to distract me from the pain, telling me that this song helps to revive what once was in agony.” You answered, walking back over to gently hold the leaves of the magical plant in front of you.

“Then when I started to grow my own garden, I would sing the song to the flowers in my garden when they would show signs of wilting, as if to help them grow back. It’s silly, I know, but I just believe that it helps them in a way.” You finished explaining, looking back at him with an embarrassed expression, still in disbelief that he had finally caught you.

He looked at you incredulously, shocked that you think he would shame you for such a habit. “I don’t think that’s embarrassing, I honestly think it’s adorable.” tone filled with sincerity as he rubbed the nape of his neck, “I would love to learn that song too.”

That was your turn to look at him with disbelief, did he really want to learn the song because of you?

A huge grin soon came over your lips as you pulled out a tattered leather journal from your bag, handing it over to him. “I might consider teaching you the song if you learn these flowers with me.” You persuaded him, his hands now opening the notebook to see the hand-drawn flowers you’ve designed on the pages, it’s names and meanings beside it.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

---

“Hey (Y/N), what do these flowers symbolize?” He asked you one day, pointing to the page that had carnations decorating the page, the name and its meaning missing.

You leaned over and smiled sadly at the drawing, “Those are red carnations, Nev.” You started off, leaning on your chair as you continued, “You can see that the red varies from a light red hue to a much deeper and rich one, right? Well, the light red carnations symbolizes admiration while the deeper ones mean deep love and affection.”

He eagerly listened to your explanation, nodding once as he motioned for you to finish what you were saying, you bring your hand towards the white and striped variations of the same flower, “The white ones represent pure love and good luck while the striped ones are for the regret of a love one cannot share. “ You finished, giving him an accomplished look as he was amazed.

“Who knew a single flower and its colors have tons of meanings.” He commented, fingers gently grazing over the surface of the page as he looked at it with awe.

“Everything has meaning if you look at enough, Nev.”

---

As days passed by, you’ve bonded over the simple journal filled with flowers, spending hours upon hours showing him what they could mean to a person and how you can care for it.

as the days passed, you also felt your heart slowly sink in deeper into the emotions you swore to never tell.

---

You were passing by greenhouse when you heard a familiar tune carry out from the windows, stopping by the very last one, you peek to see Neville carefully tending to his Mimbulus Mimbetonia that he bought in that same year, gently watering the plant as he sang.

“Flower, gleam and glow Let your power shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine”

Admittedly, his voice wasn’t that good but the tenderness in every word he spoke had you swooning; your heart swelled with adoration as he continued to sing, unaware of how you were silently watching him.

You’ve made yourself content with that, just admiring him from the distance; loving him silently from the side.

---

The two of you were in the Great Hall, immersed yet in another session of flowers and symbols, you were explaining to him the meaning of Camellias when you’ve noticed he seemed to be out of focus, staring off into the distance.

You followed his gaze to the group of students who proudly wore their house color of blue, landing on a certain blonde girl who was eating her food quietly, caught in-between two chattering girls.

Upon realization, your throat started to itch, making you wince at the feeling. “Hey Neville, are you still with me?” You asked, clearing your airway as to ease out on the uneasy feeling stirring inside of you.

He instantly snapped out of it and looked back at you with a grin, “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. You were saying?” motioning you to continue, eyes now glued to the flower you had recently drawn.

“There are called camellias. Generally, they would symbolize love, affection and admiration to a person. However, like what I’ve explained before, the colors vary what their purpose.” You explained, hand reaching over to scratch your throat as the its irritation intensified, “For example, red would mean love and affection.”

Neville silently nodded, not noticing how you were struggling with your words, “and these are?” he asked, pointing to the pink ones that were alone by the corner of the page.

“Those are pink camellias, those signify a longing for someone,” You finished.

“Your knowledge on these never ceases to amaze me.”

---

Weeks passed and the irritation just worsened, confusing you to no end about what you may have eaten to cause such a state.

Until you were walking alongside with Neville until you coughed, feeling a rather foreign object in your mouth. You covered your mouth and looked at your friend with wide eyes before running to the lavatory, stumbling to the sink as you release whatever was in your mouth.

It was petals, and not just any petals, it was striped carnation petals.

You stared at the bunch in your hands, rather terrified of the beautiful red to white design it had.

---

Seemingly enough, every time you would cough up these little monsters, it would be whenever Neville would be looking or talking to Luna.

Your eyes looked at the amount of petals you had coughed up in just a week, filling the little jar you had hidden halfway through already. Everyday would be a new struggle for you as your breathing would get restricted more and more each time.

You sat by the window of your dorm and watched how the glass reflected in the moonlight, gently shaking the jar as you watch the petals flutter inside the case, remembering how you

You had some alone time after telling Neville that you would stay back at Hogwarts rather than go down at Hogsmeade, telling him that you were feeling a little under the weather for such activities.

He offered to stay back but you said no, telling him to go have fun and enjoy the rest of the day, to which he reluctantly agreed to and left with Seamus and Dean.

You wandered into the library in hopes at you would find something that would answer what you had been currently suffering with. Eyes quickly skimming through the various books until you came across one that explained muggle ailments and illnesses.

Scanning through the pages, your eyes had caught a picture of lungs that were slowly being filled with petals, “Hanahaki Disease...” you read out loud, your head pulsating at the realization of what you had caught, its severity causing you to tear up.

‘This disease is stemmed from a love you cannot receive back, the petals usually appear from a certain flower and reminds them of the person they hold dearest.’ You silently read, blinking through the tears as your fingers played with the carnations that laid rest inside your pocket.

“It’s severity may vary from petals to coughing up the full form of the flowers, the only known cure for this is aside from the reciprocation of love is the removal of the petals, however the devastating side-effect includes the loss of emotions for the said person. This is severely fatal for those who decide to leave it be, death be their mark for those who pretend not to see.” you whispered, fear creeping into your mind at the realization if you get this removed, your love for Neville will also leave

That’s when you’ve decided to leave what you have as it, choosing to endure what may come rather than to lose Neville.

Your hand clutched the container as sobs soon followed, tears freely flowing down your cheeks, “I’d rather fight and endure the pain may give me than to lose the love I have for you, Nev.”

and for the first time in what seems like forever, there were no petals that night.

---

You’ve decided to keep a notebook to keep track on the days you’ve survived with this living hell, writing down what happened within your day and if you have coughed up any petals; small bits and pieces of how you adore your best friend.

You were by the Greenhouse, hugging your cardigan closer to your body as you admired the beautiful flowers of a rather wilted aconite, drawing the plant as you quietly sang to yourself,

“Flower, gleam and glow Let your power shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine”

Bringing comfort to your rather irritated chest as someone joined along, your head whipped to where the sound came from, seeing Neville walk towards you with a rather warm smile, the same smile that you found comfort in, the same one that caused you to be in the predicament that you are right now.

“What are you drawing there?” He had asked, attempting to peek at the notebook which you closed rather quickly.

You shook your head and hugged the notebook close to your chest, “You can’t look into this yet, Nev. Not yet.” You had said before coughing once more, a single petal escaping your lips.

He looked at you with concern etched on his face, rubbing your back soothingly. “You’ve been coughing a lot lately, (Y/N), are you alright?” He asked, voice laced with worry as you nodded, giving him a smile as you held onto his hand.

“I’m all good, Neville, don’t worry. It’s just a cold that’s been sticking around for longer.”

---

You crossed out another date on the calendar you’ve made on your journal, signifying you have yet lived another day with this treacherous disease. It’s been three years since the first day you’ve coughed up petals and you still can’t believe you’ve lasted this long.

The longest record for this was for just 5 months, yet here you are now, marching on your way down to the Great Hall with your heart pounding at the realization that you were about to walk into another battle aside from your own.

As chaos soon ensued, you and Neville were on lookout by the other end of the wooden bridge, on the lookout for the pack of death eaters that were bound to invade the castle that way. You were both staring out into the rather pitch black valley, you were chewing the inside of your cheek as your hands grip on the railing, “Nev, before we both get into this, I just want you to know-”

You were about to confess what you felt for him when a loud rumble of feet interrupted, making you both alert and grip onto your wands as you looked into the distance. You grabbed his hand the moment you saw the death eaters viciously towards the entrance when three of them just obliterated into nothing making the rest halt in their tracks,

Neville gave you a knowing look, a rather victorious smile on his lips, “Yeah?! You and whose army?!”, taunting the large crowd who stopped in their tracks. Yet when a single flare landed on Scabior’s want, you immediately tugged on his sleeve, “Nev, we have to run.” as the death eaters rushed inside the gatehouse.

You instantly took the lead, the both of you fleeing the bridge while avoiding the spells the snatcher was casting on the both of you while Neville casted a few spells to blow up the bridge.

You were the first one to the end, watching how the bridge fell as your friend disappeared from your sight, “Neville!” You shrieked, Seamus holding you back as you coughed, your throat not handling the rather strenuous thing.

You struggled in Seamus’ grip, sobbing at the thought that your friend might have plummeted to his death when his want re-emerged from where the bridge cut off, his head soon popping out as he supported himself on the ledge, “That went well.” He groaned.

You wiped your tears and ran towards him, helping him up as you cupped his face, eyes searching any bruises he might have. “Nev, don’t ever scare me like that again.” You sobbed, not minding the fact that every time you had to take a sharp inhale, it felt like glass was being pushed into your lungs because of the flowers growing within your chest.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, breath heaving in lots of air as he felt the adrenaline course through his veins, “I’m okay, (Y/N/N). I promise.” he assured, smiling at you rather happily.

“Hey I hate to break your moment but we have to get back inside the castle now” Ginny spoke up, motioning the two of you to go and stand up. You both looked at each other and stood up, running along with her into the school as you maneuvered through the sea of students trying to flee the scene.

“What were you trying to say earlier, (Y/N)?” Neville had finally asked, glancing at you as he bumped into another student again, you shook your head, choosing not to speak up about your emotions in a time like this, “I’ll tell you once this thing is over, just promise me you’ll stay alive” You said back, giving him a smile which he mirrored, understanding what you meant.

“Ginny! Neville! (Y/N)! Are you alright?” Harry’s voice soon rang in your ears, watching how Harry took the lass by his side and looked at the both of you with expectancy. You gave him a mere nod while the other spoke up, “Never better! I feel like I could spit fire! You haven’t seen Luna, have you?”

Harry looked at him confused, “Luna?” “I’m mad for her! ‘Think it’s about time I told her since we’d probably both be dead by dawn!” Neville exclaimed, giving you a small pat on the back as he ran up the stairs.

You suddenly felt your airway constrict more as you violently coughed, hunching over as a bunch of petals escaped your mouth, a bit of your own blood trailing down your mouth as you looked at Ginny who was talking with Harry. Despite the painful ringing in your ear and your ragged breath, you shouted at the both of them, “I’ll go this way! Be safe, the both of you!” before running off into the distance, fighting your way through the crowd.

You didn’t know where your feet would take you as you ran until you reached a deserted hallway, making you finally collapse on the floor as you spat out buds of the beautiful carnation and even the flower in its full form.

With a shaky hand, you grasp onto in, heaving in your last breath before blacking out.

---

When you woke up next, you heard a voice quietly sing albeit the hoarseness present in it, you found the sense of familiarity in every word,

“Flower, gleam and glow Let your power shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine”

The song was cut off by a sob, causing you to stir as your vision was invaded by the bright light, looking down at what seems to be a distraught Neville. “H-Hey.” You managed to croak, wincing at the pain it caused you.

He looked up at you with bloodshot eyes, “Why didn’t you tell me, (Y/N)? Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, crying harder as you brought your hand up to wipe his tears, silencing his sobs as you sang for one last time,

“Heal what has been hurt Change the Fate's design Save what has been lost Bring back what once was mine”

Tears of your own spilled as you realized that you have finally reached your end, that with every inhale that you took the exhales got shorter. You weakly cupped his cheek, smiling softly. “I didn’t want you to worry so much, seeing you happy was enough for me.” You explained, eyes exploring the ruins of the Great Hall for one last time.

“Because I’d rather die knowing that I loved someone as great as you, Neville. I’m sorry.” your answer cut off by coughing up the final camellia that escaped your system, giving it to him as you softly sang before drifting off, the cries of what once was your first love floating away.

“What once… was mine.”

---

TAGS: @theweasleyslut @violetravens @eunoia-kth @starlightweasley @minty-malfoy @glimmering-darling-dolly @slytherinsunrise @loony-loopy-lupinn @dogweedanddeathcaps @pastanest

#FoTT200wc #neville longbottom #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x y/n #neville longbottom angst #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom imagines #neville longbottom fic #neville longbottom fics

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thusspoketrish · 3 years

Text

Play Pretend (Part 1/5)

TRIGGER WARNING (PLEASE READ THE TAGS. PLEASE READ THE TAGS. PLEASE READ THE TAGS): Depression. Suicide Attempt. Suicidal Ideation. PTSD. Poor Coping Mechanism.

Harry Potter & Astoria Greengrass; Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter; Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy; Astoria Greengrass/Others; Draco Malfoy/Others; Harry Potter/Others

Content: Friendship. Forced Marriage Arrangement. Unrequited Love. Falling Out of Love. Falling in Love. Betrayal. Friendships. Breakups. Mental Health Issues. Apathy. Flatmates. Acceptance. Positive Thinking. Therapy.

SUMMARY: Fate boasts a strange sense of humour when a severely depressed Harry finds himself convincing a drunk Astoria Greengrass off the ledge of Waterloo Bridge at three in the morning. The events that follow after are an exercise in strength as Harry finds himself relearning how to cope, forgive, and love alongside the blossoming of new friendships.

Thank you to @starlitsilvereyes for the beta!

====================

At approximately 2:07 AM, Harry Potter shoves his arms through his black wool coat before wrapping his Gryffindor scarf tightly around his neck. He shoves on the misshapen scarlet mittens Hermione knitted for him several years ago, realising he could summon a better pair as she’s improved greatly since Hogwarts, but finding that these reminded him of a better time.

Finally, he shoves his wand up his sleeve before wrenching the door open and taking the steps down from Grimmauld two at a time, the door slamming shut behind him with a finality. As he breathes in and out sharply, white puffs curling outward from his chapped lips, Harry looks skyward. The moon is heavy and hangs low tonight, full and beautiful as swirls of snow begin to gently fall. It’s dark, and beautiful, and it hurts to look at.

Harry had spent the entire day cleaning Grimmauld from top to bottom. Not that this mattered as Harry has found that no matter how much he cleaned or remodelled the house, he was incapable of penetrating its doom-and-gloom atmosphere. But he had cleaned to the best of his ability, and had arranged all his necessary documents across his office table several hours ago. He carefully placed each note facing upward, the individual names of all his friends in his spidery scrawl. He had even left notes behind for the Dursley’s, though, not imparting a single kind word, as seen in his other letters. He had left the Gringotts keys of the Potter Vault behind in Ron and Hermione’s name and endowed a small trust to any future children they may have. He had left the deed and keys to Grimmauld and the Black vault to Teddy and Andromeda.

Harry doesn’t think he left any stone unturned.

He had been planning this for months. Had made the nearly 40-minute walk from Clerkenwell to Waterloo Bridge nearly every night for the last three weeks, simply staring out at the water, yearning. It would take nothing, he thought, to sit on the ledge, cast a simple spell to increase his weight, and fling himself over the edge. And at three in the morning, it wouldn’t be hard to do this uninterrupted.

A numb sort of blankness overcomes him as he rolls his shoulders and makes his way through the quiet roads, onto the high street where the slow crawl of busses and cars creep past. Harry’s vision is a tunnel of black and white images flickering in and out of focus as he sets himself on autopilot. He could do this route with his eyes closed.

It’s not that Harry thinks he deserves to die. He’s simply come to the conclusion that he wants to.

He’s tired, much too tired from the debilitating numbness that’s crippled his entire existence. He’s remained frozen in time since dying and coming back to life in the Forbidden Forest. The experience has left him immobile, like a statue, weathered by the storm called time but never feeling the effects of it no matter how long he holds his breath, patiently waiting for something to come along and happen. He was waiting for the spark of life to feed his blood as it had during the war, and nothing, no reason or rhyme, has been able to replace it. He had quit the Aurors, had isolated himself from the pitying expressions of friends and family, and had shrunken himself on the outside to reflect what he felt on the inside—absolutely nothing. He was nothing, a lingering afterthought in his own mind, something ugly and broken with a piece of its soul missing. He couldn’t stand to live with that knowledge any longer.

It was no one’s fault, not directly. Harry’s never been whole, not as a child curled up and forgotten in the cupboard under the stairs; not as a child, shaped into a sacrificial soldier, not as a twenty-three year old man, alone, shrouded in the dark cloak of night, ready to end his life.

The black and purple swirls of fog and clouds paint a pretty backdrop for the breathtaking view of the Thames, the London Eye, and Parliament from Harry’s position on the bridge. It’s the only time his vision shifts to full-colour, when he’s standing on the bridge, hands gripping the cold railing as he peers over, his glasses sliding slowly down his nose. He uses a mittened finger to push them back up, a hollow laugh escaping him as he reaches deep down inside of himself to search for a feeling, anything. He wishes for even a fissure of panic as he places both hands on the railing again, wondering if 100kg added to his feet would successfully prevent his ability to kick back up to the surface.

A harsh wind whips by, and with it carrying a whimper. Harry turns, his gaze sharpening, harping on an elongated figure further down the bridge perched on the railing.

He turns back to the water, staring out at the inky black waves. He shouldn’t care.

The whimper turns into full on sobbing.

He shouldn’t care. He doesn’t.

Then, there’s a horrible scream of anguish that pierces the quiet, the sound full of devastation. He blinks several times, pushing his glasses up again. He may not have the ability to care for his own well-being anymore but he still...he still seems to care about others.

With a sigh, Harry walks to the centre of the bridge, noticing a lone figure down the road walking towards them before abruptly stopping and turning away from them.

Harry ignores them, and instead approaches the person perched on the railing. He can see that the person is wearing a black, long-sleeved ballgown, tiny sparkling beads of emerald green, gold, red, and silver shimmering in the moonlight, taking the shape of exploding fireworks across her bodice along the back of the dress. It’s beautiful, and Harry gasps when the woman turns to face him.

He’s seen this woman before, has seen her pretty pale face at the Slytherin table at Hogwarts. Her long black hair whips across her flushed face, mascara-tinged tears sliding down her cheeks. Her red lipstick is smeared across her lips and down her chin, piercing blue eyes unfocussed as she sways side-to-side.

“What do you want?” the woman asks miserably, her voice slurring, intoxicated. Harry steps closer to her, as if she’s a wild animal ready to leap away from him. The woman’s lips turn down into a terrible wound of a frown, misshapen by the smeared lipstick. “Did he send you?” she cries.

“No,” Harry says, not knowing who she’s talking about as he slowly approaches her. “Why don’t you come down?” he asks, extending an opened hand.

The woman’s gaze twists from Harry back out to the dark depths of the Thames. Harry inches closer.

Another whimper escapes her. “He doesn’t love me,” she cries, her body shaking as she weeps.

“There are people out here who love you,” Harry says, wincing. How many times has Ron and Hermione said this very thing to him over the last year?

“But not him!” she shouts, her shoulders trembling, the harsh winds whip her hair. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve even given him all of me, all my love, all my hopes and my bloody dreams, and nothing. Nothing I do makes him look at me…at me...as if,” the woman breaks off, a trembling cry escaping her before she shouts, “Why...why not me?”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Harry says, his voice carrying on the winds, tone firm. A small spark of indignation is felt in his chest. This woman, this woman is suffering, and it’s fuelling a knife-sharp sensation alongside his slow-beating heart. He wants to touch her, see if he can pull her grief into him, see if it’ll help him feel his own, for once.

The woman tilts her head back, a wail escaping her. “I don’t deserve him! I can’t help him, I can’t even bloody keep him. I’m useless.”

“Stop it, don’t put yourself down like this. He doesn’t deserve you...you’re stronger than this pain, this numbness you’re experiencing, and you know it. You know you can do so much better than him, that your life and your hopes and dreams outweighs whatever the fuck you think he sees when he looks at you. You don’t need anything from him, not when you’re this strong,” Harry says, shaking his head. He doesn’t know where these words are coming from, they feel foreign to his own ears. A part of him wonders if he wished someone would say this to him. “What’s your name?”

The woman draws in a shaky breath before she answers in a tiny, strained voice, “Astoria. Astoria Greengrass.”

Harry nods, now remembering her, remembering where he’s seen her name lately. “Come, Astoria. You have so much to offer the world. You’re strong, but sometimes even the strongest among us have bad days, but that doesn’t make us worthless,” Harry says, the feeling in his chest swelling, lighting him on fire from the inside. Harry gasps. “You’re worth fighting for, you’re...let me...let me fight for you, Astoria, until you can fight for yourself. Please...please, take my hand. You don’t have to do this...you don’t have to do this alone.” He’s now beside her.

A wicked wind whips past them again, the snow falling now coming down in thick, fluffy sheets. Astoria huffs out another sob before she turns around, her hand stretching out.

Harry clasps it, pulling her forward. She wraps her arms around his neck, digging her face into this layered scarf, clinging to him like a lifeline. They both sink to the ground as she weeps. The cold stings the trail of tears on Harry’s own cheeks.

She smells like the cold, along with lingering scent of bergamot orange and rosewood. He knows it's a combination of scents he'll never forget as he cradles her against his chest before quickly opening his coat to wrap around her shivering form.

All the while, feeling more alive than he has since the day he died.

#HP fanfiction #Harry Potter #Astoria Greengrass #drarry #Astoria x Harry #Astoria x draco #Draco Malfoy #trigger warnings #please read the warnings #series #will update #1/5

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dex-xe · 3 years

Note

fluff no.50 with the captain and havers??

Captain & Havers Fluff #50: “Stay.”

(I’m super, super, super happy with this one,, v proud fellas!! This is based on my own experiences btw and how shutdowns affect me specifically so I am in now way claiming this to be representative of the whole community but if people have problems with this let me know and I’ll take it down cause even though its personal to me, I don’t want others to feel disrespected. Anyway, again this went up on ao3 like two days ago I think?? so yeh go check out stuff on there too!! Enjoy!!) (even though this one is mad long XD)

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Vision blurred by the night and mind foggy with tiredness, the Captain finally reached the gates of Button House. He hitched his khaki bag up higher on his shoulder and blinked up at the dark windows of the manor house, safe in the knowledge that his soldiers were fast asleep and unable to disturb him further. The driving rain stuck his silver hair to his forehead and made his uniform cling to his skin in a suffocating hold, not exactly helping his vulnerable situation.

He’d spent a week in London with other COs from across the region, sitting through meeting after meeting with a masked expression plastered across his face. His energy had not been focussed on the week’s work but instead on trying to appear calm and normal in front of his superiors. He’d kept it up, much to his own surprise, he’d left the mask in place for a full week; never dropping the facade, never letting the reality of his anxiety-ridden demeanour slip out.

As he ran through the rain to the front door, he couldn’t help but feel some pride in keeping up appearances but the mental energy he had lost over the week was seriously taking it’s toll. The house span in front of him blurring into a swirl of dark colours, he couldn’t think of anything but the intense desire to climb into bed and block out the world for a little while: just a few hours where he could be quiet and still and shut off the lights and sounds, where he didn’t have to speak to a single other soul.

Gripping his bag tightly over his shoulder, the Captain pushed open the heavy wooden door and stumbled into the hallway. Water droplets fell from his hair as he ran a hand through it, wiping his feet on the mat and quietly pushing the door shut behind, being careful not to wake the men.

“You’re back late.”

The Captain jumped a mile as a whisper emanated from the dark house. He started up to see Lieutenant Havers leaning in the hall doorway. The Captain’s breath caught in his throat as he saw Havers in a way he had never seen before: hair mussed up slightly and falling across his forehead, soft white nightshirt flowing over his standard issue army slacks.

“Captain?” Havers ducked his head slightly to meet the Captain’s eye line where it had been fixated on his chest. “Here, dry yourself off.”

Havers held out a towel for the Captain, who took it graciously and began to brush water from his hair. The Captain noticed his hands were shaking a little as he reached out to Havers and worked to try and steady them to maintain his facade.

“You are rather late, sir. We were expecting you back late afternoon; it’s well past midnight?” Havers queried.

“Train,” the Captain said simply, his voice cracked as he reluctantly spoke for the first time in hours.

“Ah, blasted things. Just can’t rely on them,” Havers smiled. “How was your? Did you hear from Colonel Andrews about their progress? Surely they must be close to finishing Operation Coventry by now?”

“Mmhm,” the Captain coughed. “Yes I should think so, Lieutenant. There shall be a full briefing in the morning.”

“Are you feeling quite well, sir?” Havers asked, noting the Captain’s pale complexion, fast, heavy blinking, and fidgeting hands wringing the towel between his fingers.

“Perfectly adequate, thank you Lieutenant,” he stuttered. “Now, if you don’t mind, I wish to shower and turn in for the night.”

The Captain turned to stumble up the stairs after Havers nodded curtly, barely taking in the concern plastered across his lieutenant’s features.

***

The Captain showered quickly before pulling on the nightclothes from his bag and taking up a swift jog to reach his private bedroom without running into any night owls still wandering lonely through the corridors. He slowly and quietly shut the bedroom door, sighing heavily and resting his forehead against the wood. He twisted the key and listened to the satisfying clunk of the lock barring the rest of the world from entering his life for just a few hours.

“Feeling better, sir?”

The Captain jumped at Havers’ voice once again. He spun on his toes to see Havers stoking a fire he had clearly put great effort into lighting.

“Good lord, man!” the Captain started, agitation beginning to rise through his chest. “Must you insist on sneaking up on me?”

“I don’t mean to, sir!” Havers was crouched beside the fire, his gentle smile illuminated by the flames. “There’s cocoa on the side by your bed, and a hot water bottle between the sheets for you. Try to warm you up after your dash through the rain, yes?”

The Captain dropped his bag from his shaking grip and sat on the edge of the bed. The hot cocoa warmed his hands, taking away some of the pain of having to continue the charade of acceptability he had suffered through during the week.

“Our briefing will be at 10:00 hours rather than 8, give you a little time to sleep in,” Havers reasoned. “I’ll keep the men quiet and occupied until then, I’m sure.”

“Quite unnecessary, Lieutenant, 10:00 hours is fine,” the Captain said. With every answer he provided for Havers, the words came out more painfully, more stilted. He could feel the anxiety rising through his chest, his brain coding over with the familiar fog he associated with an incoming ‘episode’ - as he always called them.

He’d suffered from his so-called ‘episodes’ since he was a young child and could easily recognise the warning signs: the creeping nauseous feeling of anxiety and tears, the slowing of his thoughts right down to a trickle, the restless desire to rock himself into a calmer state. He’d always snuck himself off alone, ever since he was young, never wanting those around him to catch on to his discomfort - peers, teachers, even his parents couldn’t see the true nature of his situation.

“Captain?” Havers had shifted away from the fire to stand in front of the Captain to look down at him. “Are you quite sure you’re alright? You’re looking a little peaky.”

The Captain nodded avoiding Havers’ worried gaze entirely. He gripped the sleeves of his nightshirt trying desperately not to embarrass himself with any uncontrollable movements that might inhibit him. His eyes were slammed shut to block out the iridescent glow of the lightbulb but the high pitched humming it produced was still permeating into his brain like sharp rods.

“Sir, you’re really beginning to scare me,” Havers said trying his hardest to stay calm. “Can you talk to me? What can I do? You can’t be well.”

The Captain shook his head being careful not to jostle his tender condition.

“Pen and paper!” Havers scrambled across to the Captain’s small wooden desk to grab supplies before thrusting a pencil into his hand and laying a notebook across his lap. The Captain’s hand faltered as he covered his ears, but then he put pencil to paper and wrote in scratchy, cursive lettering: “Light.”

“Would you like the light off?” Havers barely registered the Captain’s jerky nod before he made a heroic leap across the room to plunge the pair into darkness; the only light in the small bedroom was from the orangey glow of the fire Havers had meticulously built. The Captain was able to peel his eyes open to look at Havers who had taken up a kneeling position in front of him.

“Is that better for you?” The Captain nodded again gripping the pencil tight between his hands, knuckles turning white under the pressure. “What’s going on? You’re hiding, sir. Do not hide any pain you are feeling, I cannot help you if you are hiding.”

The Captain put pen to paper once again: “Too much.”

“Do not hide,” Havers said, watching as the Captain grimaced. “That’s actually an order, sir.”

The Captain finally gave in and allowed his ‘episode’ to take over. His hand balled into a fist and shook violently beside head and he tried to curl in closer to himself. A low groaning noise was what disturbed Havers the most as he knelt before the Captain, reaching to rest his hands on the other man’s knees, fingertips burning through the Captain’s trousers and straight into his pale skin.

“You’re going to be fine,” Havers murmured quietly. He moved with the Captain as he rocked slowly back and forth, trying to ease out the tension. “I’m not going anywhere until you’re okay, so just let it all out.”

The Captain snatched at the pencil and wrote in his wobbly script: “Here.”

“Here?” Havers queried. “What do you mean? A little more detail.” He watched the paper intently as the Captain scratched over it once more: “Come here.”

Havers scrambled up and threw himself down on the bed beside the Captain watching him closely.

“What do you need? Should I take hold of you, sir? Is that what you want?” Havers stammered. A sharp nod from the Captain. “Come here.” Havers curled his strong arms around the the Captain’s waist and pulled him tightly towards him, having long since noted the Captain’s dislike for soft touch. The Captain rested his disturbingly warm forehead against Havers’ shoulder and allowed himself to accept the comfort he had so desperately needed. With his eyes screwed shut and face buried deep into Havers’ warmth, the Captain took a few shuddering breaths and felt the anxiety flow through his body and straight out of every point of contact he shared with Havers, as if the man was reaching in and drawing it all out from deep inside him.

“Was it this week?” Havers asked. “Was it too much? I can’t quite imagine how difficult it all must have been but you’re back now, back here where everything is exactly the way it should be, yes? Nothing out of place, just us and the men and our work. That’s better for you, isn’t it?” The Captain had never quite experienced understanding like Havers’. He’d long understood that Havers knew more about him than anyone else ever had but to have picked up on the Captain’s vulnerabilities so deftly and be able to work him through them unlike anyone else: that took something different - a different level of relationship the Captain couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“You should sleep,” Havers mumbled, his warm breath tickling behind the Captain’s ear. Havers began to manoeuvre away, pulling the Captain with him slightly to manhandle the bedsheets around his shoulders. “Come on, it is rather late.”

The Captain allowed himself to be pushed down onto the soft material, combined with the vacant feeling in his head and the warmth of the hot water bottle he’d laid to rest on his chest, he could almost feel himself floating away. Havers tempered the fire before diligently returning to the Captain’s side.

“Are you warm enough, sir? Do you need more blankets? Something to drink?” Havers fussed, rearranging pillows and smoothing down the sheets. The Captain shook his head but reached for his paper and pencil anyway, hoping to catch Havers attention once more before he disappeared back to this own quarters down the hall, leaving the Captain in the silence he had been craving only an hour, silence that didn’t seem so tempting now.

He wrote, more clear and cohesively this time: “Stay.”

“With you?” Havers stammered out. But late at night and in a vulnerable state, neither cared for the implications of the Captain’s request - even the uptight and overly cautious CO found himself lazily pulling back the covers for Havers to slip in.

Reaching out into the darkness, Havers pulled the Captain close again, close enough to be practically laying on top of him, long limbs dangling over him like a dog that had grown slightly too large for its owner. He settled them both back into the pillows and ran a loose hand down the back of the Captain’s shirt, smoothing over the material and allowing his hands to linger on the small of his back. Finally letting his eyes fall into comfortable rest rather than the squeezed-shut tension they had been before, the Captain further relaxed into Havers and curled into the strong and muscular arms holding tight around him.

“Sleep now,” Havers murmured low and deep into his ear, sending a shiver down the Captain’s spine. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Taking in one final deep breath before sleep overcame him, the Captain whispered into the dark, safe space Havers had helped create for him: “Thank you.”

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thesunsetmeansgoodbye · 3 years

Text

Alcina Dimitrescu & Mother Miranda

For her, Mother is this scripture she meditate day and night even if she's no merely answer for her mother's kept prayers. Perhaps, almost..

Alcina silently watch Miranda read the files of her recent experiments, the priestess seem to frown inside the golden mask.

“Basically, some died and the rest turned into Moroaică”.

“Yes, Mother Miranda”. She droop her head aside, the hat hides the sight of her Mother.

“I should’ve known. Next time you waste my time, make sure it’s worthwhile. I had enough of your failures, when you supposed be not.” That's all she heard before the older woman takes its leave. And right now she needed a drink.

Another meeting takes over, Alcina sometimes would catch her mother's eyes closed and looking tired. When she open snap them there this no emotion holds it. Lips secretly pressed to each other, she listens to the discussion like an obedient daughter she always were unless Heisenberg nerved to piss her off.

She hates when Mother favors the other lords whom she considered below to her and Mother Miranda, she hates this unnecessary siblings, they barely interact with each other and she would rather it stay that way.

“I put end to this meeting now, all of you may take your leave.”

Every single one leaves the decrepitude church, Alcina caught the glimpse of her Mother and Donna. She looks like assigned to a task but why only give it when the meeting is done? Alcina could only groan. Mother did not assigned her to anything, did she not trust her anymore?

She follow her mother for everything she ordered her to, even in the things beyond her will. Her recognition means so much for her and from that she will do anything, giving all the colors for all the portraits she needed; a masterpiece to offer her Mother. Just, one perfect vessel.

Despite the devotion she holds to the older woman, there's this one exception, and she be willingly fight the world for her three daughters, just like her Mother.. and she hopes, the edge point will not reach where she needs to break an agreement to the priestess when its already her daughters involved.

“Mother?”.

She gently caress the hair of her youngest that was the head is on her lap, gentle smile formed from the ruddy lips of the countess once soon turn into frown, when the thought came of Mother Miranda doing the same thing on the countess like the daughter she always claim Alcina is to her. But it is a thought that is unlikely to happen.

When Miranda visits the castle once in a while, Alcina decorates the table with expensive fine china and foods all for her mother of course along with her famous wine. Even though Mother Miranda looks not to enjoy any of it more than the reports of experiments she overnight do in the dungeons that often ends to be just nothing but a defect.

When they were settled in their table, Alcina couldn’t stop talking like a child who keeps narrating of how great their day went to its parent. She even brought up some memories she cherished from her once human life, her being a singer and her passion for it but Mother just seems to tolerate of all her talks without uttering a single word back and only emptied her own glass of wine and after the feast the priestess would immediately takes its leave. On the other hand, Alcina only smiled helplessly.

Mother Miranda given her everything, the comfort and answers in life. Given the things her true mother couldn’t and her father would never granted. He never wanted a daughter anyway. She secretly suffered in her noble branch but it’s all over now.

And even Mother had given her all of this, she somehow long for an affection of a parent, something that her wine couldn’t remedy.

She tucked herself onto the large bed, as the same time, she murmured some words of comfort for herself some she could remember her true mother used to say to her, it was hesitant but soothing enough. Tears run from the golden sun eyes.

One meeting, she didn’t noticed any signs of its usual intimidating presence of her Mother, her aura seems to radiate happiness she never saw whenever she was with them. Happiness arouse in her too, she wonder what is the reason behind the bliss visage.

“I’m glad to inform all you that I found the perfect receptacle for our dear Eva,”

Eva. Her true child. Mother Miranda told them she have found the perfect vessel to resurrect her child, not to mention that fact its already dead over a century now. She dared not to speak and get any further in her Mother's bad side. She just sit and listen and only speak when ordered or allowed to.

“That's a very pleasant news, Mother Miranda.”

“Indeed, fiica mea.” She placidly smiled at her, and it warms Alcina's heart.

To every task she was assigned to, she do her best not want to dissapoint her Mother. There's no doubt she would do anything, remain to be her Mother's favorite even if she will have to fuel the fire of her mother roasting the other lords.

“B – but, Mother–“

“Stop the attempts to gloss over your failures Moreau, there's no merit it could do upon you, “ The fish man seems to crestfallen from the words but she just stared, after all, she have no care about them but Miranda and her daughters.

Meanwhile, she looked at Heisenberg who seem on other hand was close to scoffing.

“Hah, that really comes from the person who was also covering up his mistake.”

“Pardon?”.

He pinched his nose, before to speak

“You're just flawed as this grotesque freak! Even worse, so stop self-proclaming yourself to Miranda and keep referring us as a failure when it does also count you as one. Fucking accept it!”

“You– take that back you wrenched!”

“Silence!”.

Both of them retreat, but the palpable tension lingers.

“There's no better than another. You all disappoint me in all ways.”

Hate was born for her Mother's dead daughter, she thinks that this is all her fault and she question why the priestess couldn’t just, move on. Why was it always her? Why can’t Mother see her another daughter, that's right in front of her: alive and well, who would be willingly to fill the loss if needed. She often calls Alcina her child and daughter but neither the words felt like were stuffed. Now she sounded like a child, but she couldn’t resist no longer.

“Why isn’t always not enough?”. Her teeth gritted between the words of her misery.

After she had received her Cadou, Alcina's world began to only revolve of her Mother and following experiments in her dungeon. The cold wind and the flakes from the snow wrapped around her when loneliness and insecurity rose inside her well-being as if wants to make the situation for her worse. After all this time, it will always be Eva who occupied her Mother’s most chapters and she didn’t even bother to look over the pages were Alcina is in it, cursive beautifully written that soon tainted by her own sly tears.

For her, Mother is this scripture she meditate day and night even if she's no merely answer for her mother's kept prayers. Perhaps, almost..

She would sometimes pay a visit to her oldest sister Eve, when there's leisure time just to sit beside the grave without words store to utter for the tomb. Mother did not considered to forbid her adopted children to visit the grave, she even neither said anything about it so the other lords she assume didn’t know where it was in the first place.

But mother doesn’t have to know her visits or will she ever care?

She barely knew what would say to the dead, she did know no single prayer. She didn’t even met the child that was taken too early, was she anything like Mother? Is she like anything template of Mother? Or perhaps her father?

“You must had grown beautiful just like our Mother. C– could you tell Mother not to be too hard on me, when you resurrected again? Soră mai mare..” Because even, she could handle all the pain does not mean she deserves it, right?

She made her way to leave as she gets back to the castle.

Mother Miranda sends her a letter once in a while, when she was not able to come to the castle herself because of her research. The letter contain often of must attain task and criticization. She’d pick up some red pen, aimlessly drawing circles on the back of the letter; frowning. It took her some time before she full the entire back of the paper.

She stopped at the peak of the castle, above her was the sky painted in its greyest shade. She started to shred the paper, the pieces season on the white covered ground. She barely see it land because of the height.

“I've had enough of this".

No! Her daughters.. now gone! That damn Winters! Those three bugs who keeps alive her barely beating heart, taken away from her! How!? How could Mother allowed this to happen? Where is she? The roars of the dragon in its hinted despair did she not heard!? Out of all men she's the only person who can understand, it hurts.. so much.

Yet, no presence of power from the Mother she knew stop the gravity of her downfall.

She is confident to think she's her mother’s favorite but she might hinted it wrong however, the proof of the blessing she casted upon her among the others. Castle, eternal life, obedient daughters did she not? How come she couldn’t accept the affection Alcina returned? Wasn't it enough to cease her mother's insurmountable grief? For a child that was no longer here, she barely tolerate all of it.

She sit and watch her.

“Remember from whence you came".

#alcina dimitrescu #mother miranda #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #karl heisenberg #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #parental issues #a song fic I guess #Alcina being a desperately in need for affection of her mother #In the end she got canonically betrayed

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wonderwomanfantasy · 3 years

Text

Today, Tomorrow, Forever.

Behold, the four AM dabi fic. Also this is the first part of a series so look out for the next part. Also Also, this is based on a lot of different books and shows so if at any point you’re like “hey this is just like X” you’re probably right.

Dabi x Reader (not really in this chapter but we’ll get there)

warnings: swearing, violence, abuse, Endeavor, spooky shit, cannon divergence (Dabi is a good brother), this is a full AU so I did mess with the ages of the Todorokis,

words: 2,300

summary: Out of the frying pan into the fire, that was the expression right? leaving one bad situation into something much much worse? That’s where you were right now, in the fire.

Sometimes it was hard for you to tell what was real, and what was fiction. Often you’d wake from a vivid dream and as you blinked the spots from your eyes and looked up at the textured ceiling of your bedroom, and for an instant, or in truth much longer than an instant, you’d still be there. In the dream. Then you would get up and you would remember, you were in your room, in your bed, in your body. At least that’s what it seemed like.

Then of course there were the ghosts. You weren’t sure if the ghosts were reality or fiction, they seemed like a gray area between the two. Sometimes other people could see them, which lead you to believe they were real, but then most of the time it was only you seeing the figures and shapes, But that didn’t mean they weren’t real.

All this to say when Enji Todoroki told you his house was haunted, you were surprised to meet someone so open to believing in ghosts. Of course, he rather quickly squashed that idea with the next words out of his mouth being “Those rumors are of course ridiculous but some idiots still believe it,”

“Of course,” you replied meekly, dropping your eyes from his stern gaze. “Ghosts, real or not don’t bother me so that won’t be an issue, Sir.”

You needed the job, badly, so you were willing to lie. Enji was looking for a Nanny for his youngest son, you were looking to get away from where you were coming from, so you were both in a position to help the other. And the only catch seemed to a slightly haunted house. You could live with that, as long as your own ghosts stayed away.

“When can you start?”

The Todoroki manner was a large one, Ornate and lavish if not old, clean and well taken care of it seemed, but empty. There was a housekeeper, a cook, a gardener, and a pool boy, all of whom seemed very nice but all of them seemed to slip into the shadows the moment you turned your back, and as it where you were to be the only one who lived in the manner full time, isolating you further.

As Enji walked you through the home you couldn’t help but think that perhaps it was more than the ghost rumors that were keeping people away. There were framed photos on the wall, of Enji, his wife, and four children all of varying ages, you found it strange that none of them seemed to be here, save Enji and Shoto.

Speaking of Shoto, You were warned about the scar that covered nearly half of his face, but the warning wasn’t enough to prepare you for seeing it in person, it took all you had not to gasp when you looked the boy in the face. Similarly, you knew that he was a quiet boy, but you hadn’t been expecting him to give you a single “nice to meet you,” then stay silent for the rest of your interaction.

“He’s just a little shy, we’ll warm up to each other,” you assured, smiling first at Shoto and then at his father.

Then Enji left leaving you alone with his son. You were awful with kids, terrible really and if you had had any other choice you might not have taken this job. You had no idea how to even begin acting around this kid.

You decided to pull from what little human interaction you could and decided to treat him like a coworker. Right so what would you do with a cold coworker?

“Shoto, I’m still new so why don’t you show me your favorite part of the house alright? Then we can do something fun,” you offered. He thought about it and nodded. While he didn’t say anything just stood up and started walking out of the room. You followed him as he lead you out into the backyard there was a large grass field and a pool with trees lining the promoter. It was a warm spring day, but most of the trees in the yard were dead, not yet budding, still suffering from the harsh winter.

Shoto lead you into a patch of trees further in the back of the field to a cluster of oak trees and you saw one had an old ropes wing hanging from the lowest branch.

“You like to swing?” you asked and he shook his head

“No? Then why this spot,” you asked and for the first time since meeting him, he spoke

“My mom used to like this swing, she’d sit on it and read me stories,” he said, crouching down and sitting down on one of the roots of the old tree. You crouched down beside him.

“I see, so you come here to remember your mom?” you asked and he nodded silently. You took a shuddering breath and reached down the collar of your shirt pulling out a slender silver chain that held a locket, and showed the necklace to Shoto.

“I do the same thing with this locket, it helps me remember my mom too,” you said.

“Your mom went away too?” he asked.

“Yeah, she got really sick when I was younger and, she went away,” you said, choking back emotion, you were surprised that talking about your mother still brought up this sadness in you, Shoto reached out and touched your hand. Almost like he was trying to comfort you.

“We still see her sometimes, in the hospital, but it’s not the same,” He said quietly, a cold breeze passed over you, ruffling your hair and making you shiver.

“That must be hard,” you said and he nodded, “why don’t you show me some of your other favorite places okay?” You said and he nodded. You both stood and walked back into the house, another shiver going down your spine as you tucked your locket back into your shirt.

It only took you a week to realize that Enji Todoroki had never spent a day in his life with his son. While Shoto’s room was littered with sports equipment, soccer balls, baseball bats, tense rackets, all unused.

Shoto liked the library, he liked to read and draw, he wasn’t a hard kid to look after, you would read with him, or fill in coloring books at his request, and often the two of you would walk around the field talk about the books he’d read.

Sometimes Shoto would ask to see your locket, and you’d show it to him and you’d talk about your mothers together.

“Is there a picture inside the locket?” he asked and you winced, instinctually closing your fist around the silver heart.

“No,” you lied, “the latch is broken so it doesn’t open,” you said. He nodded and dropped the subject. You tucked the locket back inside your shirt and went on with the game of chess you were playing, losing badly to Shoto.

He was a good kid, and he opened up to you easily, which only solidified in your mind that Enji had never once tried to understand him but you weren’t getting paid to play family therapist.

While taking care of Shoto was easy, living in the manner was anything but. The house was old and made a lot of creaking settling noises that never failed to make you jump. The rooms were dimly lit and furnished with dark wood making the rooms feel smaller than they where, making you clostrophobic. Even though you had been living here for over a month now the lay out of the house still perplexed you sometimes, leading to geting lost in rooms you’d never seen before and would never see again.

The rooms of the Elder Todorokis, Shoto’s brothers and sisters, always remained locked, not that you had ever tried to open any of those doors, the strage chill that seemed to emanate from that room was always enough to keep you away.

All of that was annoying, chilling even, knowing what you knew. But none of it was unbearable, but the ghosts. The ghosts made you want to leave.

Sometimes you would wake up with a transparent blue woman looming over you and you had to clap your hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming. She left as soon as you saw here, leaving you shaking.

“I am in Todoroki manor,” you started shakily, touching a hand to the top of your head. “I’m in my bed, I’m in my body,” you reminded yourself before collapsing back to the bed

No one else seemed to be able to see the man in the kitchen or the apparitions that plaied out side. So you kept quiet, and didn’t say anything.

Some nights how ever, they kept you up. You would sit shaking in your bed, one hand firmly around your locket the other over your mouth while widows slammed open and things toppled from shelves. While most of the ghosts in the house seemed docile there was at least one who wasn’t. This villant ghost never showed themself, until one night.

It was pitch black when you returned home. You had been permitted to Take Shoto out of the house and the two of you had gone to a movie.

He tieredly rubbed his eyes as you helped him out of his jacket.

“Ready for bed?” you asked and he nodded. He took your hand and slowly you both made your way up the stairs. There was a loud cracking sound and before you saw the heavy oak banister crack.

You frose in place. Not now, you silently pleaded, not in front of someone else, you couldn’t contain your fear and still play it off as normal. You could smell smoke.

Shoto suddenly gripped your hand tighter. “We should run,” he said, could he possibly see what you were seeing?

Before you could ask him anything, the painting on the wall to your left fell to the floor with a crash, blood oozing out of the eyes of the people inside, Shoto screamed, and without thinking you lifted him in your arms and took off running. His short nails dug into your shoulders as he clung to you. You saw a door cracked open and without thinking you burst into the room slamming the door closed behind the two of you and slumping to the floor, Shoto in your lap your back to the heavy wood. You took a look around assessing your surroundings and saw you were in Shoto’s neat and tidy room.

There was another loud crash and you felt Shoto go stiff in your arms frozen in fear and suddenly there was only one thing you could think and that was oh god I have to protect this child I have to protect this poor poor child. You lifted him easily in his arms and marched to his bed, then you firmly removed him from your shirt and place him down.

“Hide under the covers, I’ll be right back okay?” you ordered, he looked terrified, he didn’t say anything just crawled under the covers. You spun around on your heel and headed to the door, picking up his toy bat as you went. Sure it was a toy but damn if you weren’t going to swing it hard enough to cause some real damage. And you barrage into the darkened hallway.

At first, there was a disturbing quiet, just the labored sound of your breathing. “Don’t play coy now you son of a bitch,” you hissed under your breath. There was a groan and you whipped around seeing your ghost for the first time.

The first time you’d seen a ghost, and known it was a ghost, was when you were seven. You were five or six. You were in a park sat on the swingset trying to learn how to swing without needing to be pushed like the big kids did when you saw an old woman who had neither arms nor legs. Most ghosts were like that, half-formed, incomplete as if they had lost more than just their lives.

Not this one, however. You could see him perfectly from the tip of his spikey white hair down all the way to the clasps on his boots. He looked surprisingly like Natsuo, with white spikey hair, a lanky body, and angry eyes. Toya, he had called his dead brother. Toya was right in front of you now.

This revelation paused you for only a moment before you glaired at the spectator.

“Can you-” he began to speak but you cut him off by swinging the bat through his middle section, it passed through him harmlessly but you didn’t care you moved to hit him again.

“Stop,” he growled and caught you by the thought, you gasped feeling his cold skin touch your throat, then his fingers clamped down choking you. He looked stunned, not that you really cared about whatever revelation this bastard was going through if he could touch you that means you should be able to touch him. You swung the bat again this time hitting his wrist knocking his hand off your throat, you stagged back and sneered at the ghost your heart pounding in your chest so loud you wondered if he could hear it.

He, Toya, Looked at his hand flexing his fingers, then at you, then vanished. You whirled looking for where he would pop up next, but he didn’t appear. You rushed back into Shoto’s room coking him out of the covers and holding him while he sobbed. You might have cried a little too, it was hard to tell.

In the morning there would be bruises of fingers on your neck.

#dabi x reader #dabi bnha #bnha dabi #mha dabi #imagine dabi #toya todoroki #toya todoroki x reader #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia head cannon

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

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Nowhere to Run by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Or on FF

Tagging: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jonesfandomfanatic @jrob64 @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx

Chapter 8: The Plan

Emma woke as the sunlight reached her face. She snuggled down into her blankets, enjoying the warmth they provided to her. The blankets were plush and soft against her skin, something she did not have the luxury of having the last ten years. Henry and Emma had been afforded a single woolen blanket that they shared on their old mattress in the basement or whatever room he would trap them in for the moment. Many times, in the winter, they had huddled together using her body to keep her son warm.

Looking over she watched with gratitude as Henry was curled into the comforter, Rogers nuzzling against his chest, a smile on the boy’s face.

She heard a noise echoing through the house, the clang of metal in the distance. She sat up, yawning before stretching her feet to the floor and wandering into the bathroom. She found a brush in the bottom drawer, one she recognized as hers, and ran the bristles through her hair. Killian had left two new toothbrushes on the sink for her and Henry.

When she finished getting ready, she slipped quietly out of the room, Rogers following at her heels. She found Killian in the kitchen, hunched over the stove while he stirred a pan of scrambled eggs. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants, and nothing else. Emma stood in the door frame, admiring the man in front of her, she had forgotten what it was like to desire someone.

She had determined that even ten years later, he was still the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on. His body had changed in the years since she had been with him, but he had stayed in excellent shape, his back was firm and taut, even though she could tell he had gained weight since they were together, but it made him even more attractive to her. By the time she realized her gaze was lingering over his firm backside, Rogers betrayed her by drawing his attention toward her.

“Morning, Emma. Hope I didn’t wake you. I thought you and Henry might want some breakfast before we met with David.”

He turned, leaning against the stove, crossing his arms in front of his chest. She mentally reminded herself to keep her eyes on his face, not to trail down his body or spend time wondering if he still went commando when wearing sweatpants.

“Emma?”

She flinched, realizing she had been stuck in her head, staring at him. “Sorry, still sleepy.” She laughed. “Um, breakfast sounds great. I’ll get Henry up.”

She retreated quickly to the bedroom, waking her son to ensure they had time to eat and make it to the station before 8am.

By the time they pulled up to the station, they were ten minutes late, and had missed multiple calls from David who was clearly concerned about Killian making good on his promise to return Emma first thing in the morning.

“Sorry, I’m not used to getting a kid out the door in enough time to get across town.” Killian replied honestly as Robin glared at him as soon as they reached his desk.

“Hello again, Emma.” Robin smiled, looking over at Killian with concern. “Captain has a guest in his office, he wants to see you both. I can watch Master Henry.”

Emma followed Killian nervously through the building toward the Captain’s office. The blinds were closed, and they knocked before entering the room. When Emma stepped inside, she recognized the woman sitting across from David at his desk. She had met her twice in the hospital after more than one brutal attack she had received from Neal.

“Jones, Emma. This is Mary Margaret; she works over at Harbor View Medical Center.”

The woman looked up and stared at Emma. “I remember you.” She said softly.

“I remember you too, Emma. I’m so happy to finally see you again.” The woman stood from her seat.

“Emma, we would like to be able to use your hospital records as evidence.” David declared.

“I didn’t use my real name.” She said with a frown.

“I actually flagged them after trying to report your injuries, I figured it wasn’t your real name and you were always gone before I could alert security, but I hoped that one day I would see you again. Your injuries were especially memorable, and no one should have to continue to live with that.”

Emma glanced at Killian nervously, swallowing before speaking. “Can I…can I talk to you privately?”

Mary Margaret looked at David, and he nodded, “We’ll just be outside. Take your time.”

Killian lightly grazed her shoulder and she turned toward him with a nod, offering him a shy smile before he followed David out the door.

“How are you doing, Emma?” The woman asked taking a seat and offering her a chair beside her.

“I just wanted to thank you for everything you did for me in the past. I know you tried to help, and I wasn’t very cooperative.”

“Emma, you did what you had to do to survive. No one faults you for that.”

“I had to protect my son. Neal never let him come with me to the hospital. He always kept us separate so that I wouldn’t do anything.”

“That must have been terrifying.” She said softly, reaching out to take her hand. “How are you coping with being away from him?”

“I’m…” She sighed, guilt overcoming her as she turned her eyes to the floor. “I feel like I’ve done something wrong. By leaving him. How fucked up is that?”

“Emma, you were with this man for ten years. He conditioned you to be afraid of him, to want to please him. It’s natural to be scared or feel that you’ve disappointed him in some way.”

“How long am I going to be like this?”

“I can’t answer that unfortunately, I can recommend you a good therapist. Dr. Hopper is the best around.”

“Therapists are for weak people.” She grunted.

“Therapy is to help you talk about how you’re feeling and the way those feelings cause you to interact with others. It will help you resolve what happened to you. It doesn’t make you weak. You are a very strong woman to have withstood the violence and emotional abuse you suffered.”

“Will I always be afraid of being close to another person?”

“How do you mean?”

“Killian, he’s my…my husband.” The woman looked confused for a moment before the realization of her words were met with understanding.

“I’m sorry, Captain Nolan didn’t tell me you were married.”

“It was complicated.” She said with a light snort. “But now, every time he touches me, I flinch.”

“It’s going to take time for you to react normally. The important part is for you to know that you are in a safe environment. He’ll need to be patient, take things slow. Try the little things until you feel like you are ready to move to the next thing. Start with something small, like holding his hand, or a hug. It may be easier if you initiate contact with others for a while, until you get used to someone else showing you affection. But there is no right or wrong way to heal, Emma. Neal broke your self-esteem, took away your ability to trust and violated your will to choose, only you can take back what he stole from you.”

She smiled at her, looking down at her hands, feeling comforted by another person.

“I’ll leave Dr. Hopper’s card with David.”

“Thank you for talking to me. I don’t know what to say to Captain Nolan or Killian.”

“They both seem to care a great deal about you, I have a feeling they will let you take all the time you need to come to them.” She paused. “How is Henry handling things?”

“I’m not sure. He doesn’t trust a lot of people. He seems to like Killian, but I know this isn’t easy on him.”

“Dr. Hopper sees kids too; it might be a good idea for both of you to have someone else to talk to.”

“Thank you, I will look into it.”

She was happy to have had the opportunity to speak to the woman. Not that she felt better, it was just nice to know that what she was experiencing was normal behavior. Emma laughed to herself, it wasn’t like anything going on around her was normal.

When they stepped out of the room, David and Killian were huddled in the corner with Robin. A man and woman, she thought were named Belle and Will who had been their back up the night they got Henry out of the house was sitting with her son, who was currently laughing loudly at something the man had said to them.

Neal’s picture was displayed on the wall at the back of the room, her own photo was below it, she cringed when she realized that it pointed toward Officer Perry. She made her way to the men in the corner, taking note of the way that Killian stared at her with concern in his eyes as she approached.

“So, what’s the plan?” She said shyly as she approached.

David turned around, “Ah you’re done, let me see Mary Margaret out, Killian and Robin can fill you in.”

“We’re gonna have you call Neal from a phone in the building, tell him that you got picked up while you were shopping. Just tell him that the officer told you they have Henry. It’s going to be really important for him to believe you are desperate to get him back.”

Emma nodded. “Ok, he’ll believe all that, he’s not exactly smart. But how is that going to get him to you?”

Robin pointed at the map on the wall. “We want you to tell him to pick you up on the docks, here.” He said as he pointed toward the map. “Will he come get you? Or will he expect you to come to him?”

“I’ll tell him I need him, that always gets him to do what I want.”

Killian’s jaw tensed beside her but he nodded his head. “Ok then we take you to the docks. He shows up, we take him down.”

David walked up behind them. “And she needs to wear a wire, we want to get him to talk about the bank job. Get him to say that he killed Officer Perry.”

“No way, too dangerous, he’s not an idiot. He’ll check her for a wire.” Killian argued.

“He’s right, Neal doesn’t trust anyone and if he knows I’ve been with the cops for a whole day without contacting him, he’ll suspect something.” She added.

“That’s the conditions. She wears a wire, or they want her back in lock up.”

“That’s a fucking death sentence.” Killian screamed and she jumped. “There is no way we do this. I’m not sending her out there so he can fucking kill her.”

“We’ll be safe, he won’t find the wire. I get that this is risky, so it’s Emma’s call.” David looked up at her apologetically.

She turned toward Killian, reaching out and taking his hand in hers. “If we don’t get Neal off the streets, he’s a danger to all of us. He won’t stop until he’s killed you, me, and Henry. I have to protect him.”

“Emma…” He choked out, his thumb caressing the top of her knuckles.

“I can do this, and I know you’ll be there to back me up.”

He ran his hand through his hair, an exasperated groan leaving his throat. “Fine, but if things go wrong, I’m putting a bullet in his head.”

“Don’t make me pull you off this, Jones. I need you thinking straight.” David warned.

“He’ll be fine.” Robin added, stepping up to tap him on the shoulder and sending him a warning glance.

“Ok let’s make the call.”

Emma felt her nerves rising as they dialed the phone, Killian listening on another line from his desk.

“Hello?”

“Neal, it’s Emma.”

“Where the fuck have you been, bitch?” He growled into the receiver.

“I got picked up from the grocery store, some dumb cop recognized my face from the robbery footage they’ve been blasting all over the tv.” Her heart was pounding in her chest. “Neal, they took Henry.”

“Who has Henry?”

“The cops, when they arrested me they told me they have him, how did that happen, you said he would be safe at the house.”

“Where is he?”

“They didn’t tell me, they just released me.”

“What do you mean they released you?”

“The video isn’t clear, they don’t have the gun, I told you I dumped it.”

“That’s my good girl.” He cooed and Emma wretched, closing her eyes. When she opened them, she recognized the look of anger shading Killian’s face from the desk on the other side of the room.

“I need you to come get me, I’m heading out of here right away, you told me to never stay near a station, so I’m going to the dock, Pier 50 where all that construction is going on.”

“Ok give me a couple hours. I want to make sure you weren’t followed. If you see any signs of trouble, you call me back ok? We’ll get Henry back. Everything will turn out exactly how it’s supposed to be, you’ll see sweetheart.”

“Ok I’ll see you then.”

“Emma…” She could hear the warning in the throaty growl, she tried to ignore it. “Baby I want to hear you say it.”

She looked up nervously, her face red with anger. Not here, not now. “I’ll say it when I see you.”

“Goddamn Emma, say it.”

She flinched as he raised his voice. “I love you.” She said in a hoarse whisper. Tears sliding down her cheek as the phone left her ear. She could barely hear his voice as she put the phone on the receiver, the words that made her feel dirty, worthless, and terrified.

“I love you too, baby.”

She dropped down into the chair behind her, tears falling slowly into her lap. “Mom, it’s gonna be ok.”

She reached out and pulled Henry into her lap, hugging him for dear life. She needed Neal to pay for everything he had done to them.

“You did good, Emma.” Killian’s voice was soft as he approached her. “Let’s get you ready.”

Henry looked up at her. “You can do this Mom. I believe in you.”

She stood and walked with the men toward the Captain’s office to set her up with a wire. Once the door closed David approached her, holding the wire in his hands.

“Cap, perhaps we should have Belle do this?” He glanced at Emma and then back at David who paused.

“Yeah good idea, I’ll go get her.”

Once they were alone, Killian turned toward her. “Are you alright, love?”

“I will be once this is all over. Thanks for, um…suggesting Belle.”

“Figured that might be a bit more comfortable for you.”

The door opened and Belle walked in, Killian nodded to her, passing the bundle of wires into her hand. “Make sure a pat down won’t find them.” He turned back to Emma, smiled, and left the room.

“So, tell me, this Neal, is he a nervous man, distrustful? Do you think he’ll try and search you?”

“He’ll definitely check my shirt. He’s not an idiot, but he’s not the most brilliant criminal either.”

“Ok so we’ll go with the legs.” Emma nodded and turned around, unbuckling her jeans, and pulling them down her legs. “Ok stand over here.” She pointed in front of her, and Emma closed her eyes, sighed, and then opened them with a new resolve.

“Those are much slimmer than I remember.” She remarked, the mic pack and wires that didn’t resemble the clunky ones they practiced with in the police academy.

“It’s been ten years dear; a lot has changed.” She said apologetically. “Ok, I’m gonna touch your leg. I’m going to try and run this up the inside of your thigh, I’m going to keep the mic pack low on your hip. That way if he searches you, he’s most likely to go for the small of your back.”

“Ok.”

“I met you once before, do you remember that?” Emma looked at the girl, trying to remember her. “It was really quick; you were graduating when I started the academy. You know people talked about you all the time. First female to have the highest score on the shooting range. You beat all the guys in your class.”

Emma laughed, it seemed so long ago that she earned her place among the men in her ranks. She knew she was a good shot, better than anyone else in her class, but proving it had meant more to her than she had realized.

“You were a hero to all us women that came after you. Only female in your class.” Belle continued.

“It wasn’t easy, but I’m sure you know that. Looks like you made your own way, Detective.”

“Damn straight.” She patted her leg. “All done.”

Emma looked down at the wire, traveling up her leg and onto her hip. “Thanks.”

“Just remember, you’re stronger than him.” She patted her on the shoulder and walked out the door, “I’ll get the Captain.”

The ride to the docks made her feel like she was stuck in a wind tunnel, everything was spinning by her at 60 mph, but she was frozen in place. The car stopped moving, and both Killian and Robin turned to face her.

“Ok Emma, you’re going to walk to the end of the pier, then wait. I’ll be stationed behind the row of shipping containers on the right, Robin will be on the left. Belle and Will are flanking the entrance. As soon as Neal is on the way, we’ll know it. Just get him to come in, get him to say whatever you can and then we’ll get you out of there.”

“Ok.”

They opened the door and Emma nervously stepped onto the pier. Killian leaned against the car, watching her. Emma nervously approached him, turning around to lean against the door. “Don’t get jumpy and shoot over my shoulder.” She teased.

“Hey that only happened once.”

“What if he doesn’t show up? What if he does show up but he finds the wire? What if…”

“Emma, nothing ever goes the way it’s planned. If something goes wrong, I’ll figure it out.”

Emma leaned against his shoulder, sliding her hand down, her fingers tentatively reaching out and slipping into his. “I know you will, you’ve got my back.”

#nowhere to run #stacy's fics #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan #captain swan fics #captain swan au #captain swan modern au #emma jones

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