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heartateasee · 1 day

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“Safe”

mafia!harry x you

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: mentions of a break-in and violence (talks of being bound, and a slap) & talks of death (inflicting death on others)

Plot: While Harry was out of town on business, your home was broken in to, leaving you with some injuries. When Harry comes home to see the state you’re in, he’s beside himself, and he steals you away to his lake house so you can be alone together.

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“Where is she?” You heard Harry’s voice from downstairs, and you immediately sat up a little more on the side of your bed. You clutched the mug of warm tea in your still trembling hands - a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“She’s upstairs in your bedroom, but Harry-”

You could hear that Harry’s right-hand man, Elias, was attempting to keep him from coming up the stairs right away, and that he wanted to explain things further, but Harry cut him off.

“Get out of my way, Elias. I need to see her.”

“I understand that, but I need you to listen to me for just a second before you do.”

You flinched as you felt a hand stroking your hair off your face, and you looked over to see the doctor, who Harry always had tending to you if you were sick, standing there. She must’ve come back from the bathroom already like she said, but you hadn’t heard her. You were too focused on your boyfriend’s voice.

“The swelling should go down in a couple of days,” you heard the doctor say, who’s name was completely escaping you right now. She tilted your head to the side a bit, and you watched as her eyebrows narrowed. “There’s already some bruising, but I don’t think it’ll get much worse, if at all.”

Closing your eyes tight, flashbacks of what happened just about an hour ago bled their way back to the forefront of your mind. The back of the hand that forced its way across your cheek. The forcefulness at which your hands were tied behind your back with zip ties.

Your throat was raw from your screaming, although your mouth was soon duck taped after they realized you weren’t going to stop - no matter what threats they had thrown your way.

The memory of Elias forcing his way into the room was burned into your brain, and once he had taken care of the men who had harmed you, and threatened you, you watched his face soften once he looked at you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, not wasting any more time as he rushed over to you. Turning you on your side from where you were laid on the floor, he got his knife out to rid you of the zip ties, and then he carefully pulled the duck tape from your mouth. “Where else did they hurt you?”

His eyes were focused on your cheek that you knew was already showing signs of violence, but you shook your head.

“Nowhere,” your voice rasped as you answered him. “It’s just my cheek.”

You were drawn out of the horrific flashbacks as you heard Harry’s voice booming downstairs - growing louder. “Where the fuck were my men?!”

“They killed them!” You heard Elias yell back, clearly sick of Harry’s attitude at the moment. “Listen to me…they got in. They killed all seven of the men you had standing guard, and we got lucky because I was coming to check on her like you asked me to. If I hadn’t…”

It was silent after that, and it wasn’t too long that you heard a deep sob. You closed your eyes again as your bottom lip started to wobble. There had only been a handful of times that you had seen Harry cry, and you hated when he did. You wanted nothing more than for Elias to let him upstairs to see you so you could hold him.

“Please just-” Harry choked out, pausing for a moment, and you could tell he was trying to get himself together. “Please just tell me that she’s okay.”

“She’s okay,” Elias’ voice was now soft as he responded. “She is hurt, but it could’ve been a lot worse. Her face, and her wrists. They’re bruised.”

More silence followed until you heard a large crashing, and you knew it was coming from the living room area. You jumped - almost spilling your tea at the sudden sound. Another loud crash caused you to flinch, remembering those same sounds happening just moments ago, but not at the hands of Harry.

“Fuck!” His voice echoed off the walls, and you set your tea down on your nightstand.

You needed to go to him. You needed to show him you were okay.

“Slowly,” the doctor whispered next to you as she started to help you off the bed once she could tell you were trying to stand.

The blanket dropped from your shoulders - leaving you in one of Harry’s large t-shirts, and some wool socks on your feet. When the doctor showed and asked if you wanted to change out of the dress you had been wearing when you got home, the one you had worn to work, you immediately grabbed Harry's things. You wanted to feel close to him.

Helping you carefully down the steps, the doctor remained by your side until you reached the foyer, and from there your movement had caught Elias’ attention. He held his hand out for you, which you took without question, and the doctor took that as her sign to go ahead and leave for the night. She had already told you earlier that she was only a phone call away if you needed anything else.

Elias led you into the living room, Harry’s back to you as he stood in front of the bar cart. You could see he was downing a glass of whisky, and he wasted no time in filling it right back up.

“Harry,” Elias said as the two of you stood in the middle of the room, and you watched as Harry shook his head.

“I don’t want to hear anyone else’s goddamn voice tonight unless it’s my-”

Harry stopped talking once he turned around and saw you standing there, and he froze. His eyes trailed down your body - looking for injuries, and they darkened once they got to your face.

“I’ll leave you two for the evening,” Elias said as he released your hand, but not before giving it a small squeeze. “I’m just a phone call away, if needed. That goes for the both of you.”

Tearing your eyes away from Harry, you looked to Elias and gave him a nod. “Thank you. For everything.”

Elias returned your nod, pulling you in quickly for a hug - pressing a kiss against the crown of your head. Once he released you, he exited the house.

Now it was just you and Harry inside, and you weren’t sure how many new guards he had standing outside.

You continued to stare at each other for a moment before Harry turned around to face the bar cart again, and you swallowed harshly.

You walked forward and gently placed your hand on his back - slowly lowering your head to rest your forehead between his shoulder blades.

“Harry,” you whispered, and you felt his body tense at the condition of your voice. “I’m okay. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Harry shook his head, placing his glass down as he clutched the sides of the cart. “If I had been here, or if I had just taken you with me, none of this would’ve happened. And you begged me to take you, but I didn’t listen.”

“I didn’t beg you to take me because I thought this was going to happen. I begged because I missed you, so please don’t put that on yourself,” you told him, but he was quickly moving away from you.

You dropped your hands by your side as you watched him, tears forming in your eyes.

Maybe this was it. Maybe this is the time he realized that your relationship isn’t worth all of this. That you’re not worth all of this.

“Alright,” you said, mostly talking out loud to yourself as you nodded. “I’m going to go pack a bag.”

You didn’t even make it to the staircase before you felt Harry’s hands cupping the outsides of your arms, and he carefully turned you around. “Y/N,” you looked up to see tears of his own in his eyes. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Slowly, he lifted his hand to brush the back of his fingers against your tender cheek - not enough pressure applied to have it hurt you. He then grazed his thumb over the split in the corner of your mouth before looking down to your wrists.

He lifted them in his large hands, and brought each one to his mouth - pressing kisses against your bruises.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he shut his eyes tight, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.”

Shaking your head, you went to pull your wrists away to cup Harry’s face in your hands, but you didn’t have the chance to as he fell to his knees. He wrapped his arms around your waist as he buried his face into your stomach. “I promise you that this will never happen again.”

Streams of tears now flooded down your cheeks as you ran your fingers through Harry’s hair, feeling him sob against your torso. You then wrapped your forearms around his neck, and cradled his head in your hands as you leaned down to rest your cheek against the top of it.

“I know, Harry,” you spoke softly to try and keep him as calm as possible, sniffing as you tried to force your tears back. “But it’s okay. I’m safe, and now you’re here. You’re home with me, and that’s all that matters.”

You hadn’t noticed the state of the house until you quickly flicked your eyes around the living room, and you knew these damages weren’t just from Harry when he got home. They had destroyed your home in the process of trying to destroy you. Trying to destroy him.

Harry looked up at you, and you sent him a gentle smile as you pushed stray curls off of his forehead. “How about we go to the lake house?” He asked, licking over his bottom lip. “I don’t want to stay here tonight, and I’m sure you don’t either. I’ll have someone come in and clean this all up so that when we come back, it’ll be like nothing ever happened. How does that sound, my love?”

You nodded at him, and you held his forearms as he picked himself up off the ground. “I would like that very much.”

Harry took your hand in his as he guided the both of you back up the stairs, and he was quick to pull a large suitcase out of the closet for the two of you to share. “Pack however much you want. We’ll stay however long you want to.”

Moving around the room, you packed several pairs of pajamas, a couple of bikinis and some light sundresses. You packed two pairs of sandals and your slippers, and then you smiled over at him as he packed his own things.

Neither of you bothered with toiletries, knowing you had everything you needed in that aspect already at the lake house.

It was late, and it was going to be at least a two hour drive to get there, but Harry didn’t care. He wanted to get you away from all this for however long you needed.

He’d have men cover for him while away, Elias being the main one. He trusted him, even now more than ever after what he did for you. Harry knew that he could handle taking over for a few days, or even weeks.

Pulling his phone out, Harry made a phone call to have a couple of security guys follow you on the way to the lake house, and they’d remain there during your time together to keep watch over everything.

“Ready, honey?” You asked him once he was off the phone, trailing your fingertips over the back of one of his hands before taking it between both of your own.

“Ready.”

❈❈❈❈

You and Harry had been at the lake house for four days now, and you were feeling much better about everything. Your wrists were fully healed, and the bruising on your cheek was starting to fade completely.

Harry was still acting a bit distant, but not physically, at least. He held you close at night, and was right by your side around the house, but emotionally, he had changed. You knew he was still blaming himself for what happened back at home - no matter how many times you told him that he shouldn’t.

So today, as you stood in the kitchen, cleaning up your dishes from lunch, your eyes were set on Harry through the window above the sink as he stood on the back porch. He was on a phone call, one of the many he’s taken while being here, and you knew he was probably speaking with Elias.

You finished up the dishes, and you pulled the sliding door open to join him - your bare feet meeting the warm wooden porch. You weren’t sure if Harry heard you coming out as he continued his conversation without hesitance.

“Elias, I’m telling you right now,” Harry’s voice was low, and firm as he spoke. “I don’t give a fuck how many men we have to send. We’ve found him, and I want him, and anyone else involved in the terror they put my girl through, dead. Is that clear enough for you?”

You halted your footsteps upon hearing his demand, and you took a minute to truly process what you heard. You knew what Harry did. He tried to keep most of it a secret from you for a while, but one of your biggest fights ever was you threatening to leave if he wasn’t completely honest with you.

That occurred about six months into your relationship, and he came clean about everything - laid it all out on the table. He made it clear when he did that if you wanted to still leave now that you knew who he truly was, he wouldn’t stop you. But you didn’t.

You loved each other, and you were sure he was the love of your life.

But now, even two years after that conversation occurred, it still shocked you sometimes to hear him asking for the death of others.

“Great, thank you,” Harry said into the phone, and even though that tone was sarcastic, it soon shifted as he spoke his next words. “And I know I haven’t told you yet, but I’m really grateful that you were able to be there for her that night. Although I wish it had been me to get to her first, if it had to be anyone else, I’m glad it was you.”

Your heart fluttered as you listened in. Harry wasn’t a man to show emotion often, even with you, but every now and then you managed to get that hard exterior of his to crack. But the fact that he was displaying his emotions to someone else, it made you happy - even if the circumstances were grim.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s not get too sappy, alright?” Harry responded playfully to whatever Elias said, and it caused you to smile. “Stay safe, and we’ll talk soon.”

As Harry ended the call, he let out a hefty sigh before turning around - pausing as he saw you.

“Hi,” he cleared his throat, slipping his phone into his pocket. “How much of that did you hear?”

“A good amount,” you shrugged, not wanting to lie to him. “So you found him?”

Harry nodded as he walked forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes lingered on your cheek, just as they had several moments a day throughout your time here, before he met your eyes.

“We did. And we’ll be taking care of it.”

A chill ran through your spine at his words, and as much as you knew that hearing them should scare you - you weren’t scared at all. Not around Harry. Never around Harry.

“Okay,” you lifted your hands to rest on his chest. You stroked your thumbs against his skin through the material of the t-shirt he had on. He had been dressing casual since you had been here, something you weren’t used to, but you loved it. “Do you want to go for a swim? We haven’t gone yet.”

You could see the contemplation in Harry’s eyes, and just when you thought he was about to deny you, a smile pushed onto his lips. “A swim sounds nice. Did you pack your pink bikini? The one with the white hearts.”

Your stomach swirled, and you giggled. “I did. I’m guessing you’d like for me to wear that one?”

“Only if you want to, Y/N, but I do particularly love that one.”

“Then I’ll wear it,” you pressed onto your tiptoes to let your lips gently brush over his. “Just for you.”

Pulling away, you leave him stunned on the porch, and you smirked to yourself as you entered the bedroom of the house. Just that small interaction had you feeling like things were getting back to normal for the two of you.

You grabbed the much wanted bathing suit from the suitcase before slipping into the en-suite to change. After a moment, you heard Harry rummaging around in the bedroom, and you knew he was changing into his swim trunks. Once you had the bottoms on, and the top around your neck, you exited the en-suite and turned around once you were next to him.

“Can you tie this for me, please?” You asked sweetly, moving all of your hair over your shoulder to give him proper access.

Harry’s fingertips skated up your back before you felt him tying a secure knot against your spine. Once he was finished, he leaned down to press a kiss against your bare shoulder. “So pretty, and soft. I can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“Yours,” you whispered as you turned around - wrapping your arms around his neck. “Always all yours, and only yours.”

After separating and gathering the rest of the supplies needed for your time down at the lake, you and Harry started down the pathway that started right off the back porch. Sunglasses were perched on both of your noses, and your fingers were interlocked as your feet crunched against the rocks.

It wasn’t too hot today, but it was hot enough where the water would be a relief, and you wouldn’t get too cold once you got out.

Once you made it down to the edge of the lake, you and Harry spread your towels out over the rocks, and you pulled a t-shirt of his that you used as a cover-up over your head. You tossed it down onto your towel along with your sunglasses before looking over to Harry.

“I’ll race you,” you winked, and you watched his eyebrows raise from behind his sunglasses.

He was quick to remove his own eyewear, and shirt as well, before the two of you turned to face the lake.

“On three,” you stated with a nod. “One, two-”

Before you even said three, you jetted off towards the water, and you heard Harry’s voice calling from behind you.

“You cheater!” He exclaimed as you ran through the shallow part of the lake, looking over your shoulder to see him closing in on you quickly. “Oh, you’re in for it, love.”

You squealed as you tried to tread through the water faster, but it was no use, and you soon felt his muscular, and inked, arms capturing your waist. Giggles flooded from your lungs as he lifted you out of the water, and he moved one arm down to carry your bridal style as he went out further.

Soon you found yourselves in the deepest part of the lake, and you skillfully shifted yourself around to where your legs were around his torso - one of your hands on his shoulder while the other ran through the back of his curls.

The sun was gleaming against his emerald eyes so perfectly, and you could already see freckles on his shoulders that were usually hidden coming to life just from the small amount of rays kissing his skin. He was perfect. He was your everything, and you knew you could never be without him.

“You know I love you more than anything, right?” Harry asked, and you nodded.

“I do, and I love you all the same,” you leaned down to place a delicate kiss against his lips, but as you pulled away, you felt Harry’s hand against the back of your neck to keep you close to his face - your foreheads almost touching.

“I’m never going to let anyone touch you again, do you understand? Never again,” his gaze was hard as he stared at you, but it’s because he wanted you to know that he was serious. “You’re always going to be safe with me, and I promise you that.”

“I know, honey,” you nodded, moving your hand from his shoulder to grip to the back of his neck as well, and you inched your head forward so your foreheads were now touching, but you kept holding his eyes.

“You’ll keep me safe. Forever.”

❈❈❈❈

Just a little blurb for you all on this Sunday evening. Let me know if you guys would be interested in seeing more of these two! I fear I’m attached to them already 🤭

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Taglist: @daydreamingofmatilda @prettygurl-2009 @ghoststyles @lillefroe @gem1712 @lemoncrushh (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, please send me a DM!)

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peachdues · 1 day

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HOUSE OF CARDS — NSFW TEASER

Sanemi Shinazugawa x Kyojuro Rengoku x F!Reader • Bodyguard AU

A/N: happy KNY Sunday!

In honor of the new season premiering tonight, enjoy a first look at the first threesome between Reader and her two bodyguards.

Hope y’all are ready to be sandwiched between these two — things are gonna get filthy.

Note that when you see (…) that means I’m skipping to another scene — I can’t give the whole thing away, now can I?

CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • threesomes • spanking • unprotected sex • double penetration • discussions of creampies • spanking • slightly mean!Kyojuro but only in bed • teasing

It was wrong; you knew what you were doing was wrong.

You were his employer and he your employee. By all accounts, the only reason for his presence in your life at all was thanks to a contract and a hefty payment.

But he was there, and he was looking at you with a smoldering heat that made you go weak at the knees. He’d protected you, both he and Agent Rengoku had thrown themselves over you to shield you from harm without a moment’s hesitation.

You’d been lonely for so long, and Sanemi had been so surprisingly gentle and kind. How could anyone blame you for wanting a little comfort, especially after what you’d just gone through?

You needed it; craved it.

And truthfully, you wanted to be fucked stupid.

“Please,” you whispered, taking another hesitant step toward him, your resolve threatening to crumble if he did not respond soon. “Please, Sanemi,”

The bodyguard’s eyes remained locked on your face as you leaned in, your nose brushing his. Though he was still, you could see the rigidity which had settled over his limbs, could see the tightness in his shoulders as he worked to keep himself from reaching out and holding you.

But then Sanemi’s eyes flickered down to your mouth, and you knew he was going to give in. Before he could lift them back up to your heady gaze, you let your towel drop to the floor, exposing your nude body entirely.

—-

(…)

The handsome, scarred bodyguard had your back pressed against your headboard, his base flush against yours as Sanemi circled his hips, grinding into you so deliciously that your eyes took residence in the back of your skull.

It was wrong — so, so wrong of you to fuck your bodyguard and to let him fuck you, but the way Sanemi’s hips swiveled against yours, the way his bare cock dragged against your walls while he kissed your neck, felt so fucking good that you couldn’t stop.

“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” Sanemi grunted against your throat, his hands sliding under your thighs and pushing them up until you were spread against your headboard. The new angle allowed him to shift his hips, the blunt head of his cock pushing so deep it was nearly painful.

“Oh my —“ You choked off, unable to string together a coherent sentence while the walls of your cunt clenched harder around the Bodyguard’s thick length. “Sanemi.”

The door to your bedroom banged open, and Sanemi was quick to cover your body with his own, yanking you down and behind him, concealing you from sight as he assessed the threat.

The threat, however, was no stranger. It was Rengoku, leaning against your doorway, a strange mixture of anger and heat blazing in his golden eyes, an unsettling smirk pulling at his lips.

“By all means, don’t let my presence interrupt you,” he purred. Above you, Sanemi smirked back and his hips began to roll back into yours, even as you squeaked. “I just wanted to ensure Agent Shinazugawa was tending to your needs.”

Sanemi abruptly snapped his hips against yours and your head fell back against your pillow as you cried out. A lewd squelching began to sound, breaking up the thick silence of the room as he repeated the movement again and again.

“I think she’s taken care of,” his voice was rough as his hand came to your breast and rolled a hardened nipple between his fingers. From the doorway, Rengoku’s eyes narrowed on your chest, his mouth watering at the thought of taking one of your soft mounds between his lips.

“But by all means, Agent Rengoku, if you think you should inspect for yourself,” Sanemi trailed off as the force of his thrusts increased, the bed posts beginning to rock against your wall.

Through the daze that the scarred bodyguard had fucked into your mind, the implication of Sanemi’s suggestion settled. To your surprise, you clenched even harder around the cock currently threatening to bruise your cervix, a small whimper slipping past your lips.

“Oh?” Sanemi turned his attention back down to his beautiful employer, goosebumps erupting over his skin as he felt your molten heat tighten around him. “You like that idea, do you sweetheart?”

Sanemi’s rough thumb found the bundle of nerves between your legs and pressed, your moans turning to cries as you writhed beneath him. “You want me to stop so you can show Rengoku how good this pussy feels?”

Your head began to shake as tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop!” You gasped, your nails sinking into the rocky muscle of Sanemi’s shoulders, as though to keep him in place. “B-both.”

Sanemi’s hips stuttered against yours as Rengoku’s breath caught in his throat. But you only repeated those damnable words once more as your hand flung out towards the doorway, beckoning.

“I want you both.”

———

(…)

You yelped as Rengoku’s hand made contact with your exposed backside, making you jolt in his lap, though the bodyguard’s other hand effortlessly held you in place, draped over his thighs.

The sting was momentarily chased away by a soothing rub, before he withdrew once more, bringing his hand back down on your other cheek, a resounding slap! echoing through your bedroom.

“You cannot hide such important information from us, Y/N,” Rengoku admonished, the contrast between the richness of his voice and the sting of his hand against the sensitive flesh of your ass making your thighs squeeze together as you squirmed in his lap. “We cannot do our jobs and protect you if you’re lying.”

You whimpered. “I couldn’t tell you — client confidentiality -“

Another smack, this time firmer, choked you off with a squeal, as Rengoku’s fingers squeezed your ass cheek tightly upon impact, a thumb rubbing circles over your reddened flesh.

“Our duty is to guard your life,” the ordinarily sweet-tempered protector warned. “The more difficult you make that duty, the harder your life will be when we finally get you home.”

But even as he said it, you felt his fingers inch closer and closer to the dip between your legs, to where the evidence of how thoroughly you’d been enjoying this side of your kind bodygurd was thoroughly coating your inner thighs.

He gave you one last smack, seeming to relish the way your ass jiggled with the impact, as he smoothed his hand appreciatively over the reddened curve.

“What do you think, Agent Shinazugawa?” Rengoku called jovially to his partner. “Do you think she’s learned her lesson?”

You did not hear Sanemi move from where he’d been leaning against your wall, watching Rengoku punish you, until you’d felt his fingers beneath your chin.

“I do,” he murmured, his voice rugged though his hands were gentle as he tilted your head, inspecting the small, bandaged cut across your cheek. The smirk on the scarred, ruggedly handsome face of your other bodyguard made your thighs clench all the more. “But I think it’s time we show her how grateful we are that she’s safe.

——

(…)

Rengoku readjusted his grip under your thighs, securing you tighter against his heaving form while also holding you further open, to allow the Bodyguard at your back easier access.

The movement stirred friction between where Rengoku’s coarse base was pressed flush against your sensitive clit, and you cried out, your cunt involuntarily tightening around the burly blonde’s thick length.

Rengoku swore. “Wait a moment, my flame,” he circled his hips once before pressing deeper into you in warning. “I promise we’ll give you what you need soon.”

Your responding whimper was cut off with a choke, as Sanemi realigned the tip of his achingly hard member at your entrance, already stretched and filled by Rengoku.

“God damn,” the scarred bodyguard’s voice was like gravel as he rubbed his head against your heat. “It’s gonna be a tight fit — tighter than before.”

Sanemi shifted forward to press his lips against the nape of your neck. “You sure you wanna do this, sweetheart? We can take turns.”

At your front, Rengoku grumbled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he leaned forward to tease along your throat with his hot mouth as you mewled.

You gasped at the slight prick of Sanemi’s teeth against your skin as he waited for your answer, one dainty foot twitching where it hung mid-air.

“Yes!” You squealed, hips involuntarily grinding down on Rengoku’s length. “Please — I need someone to move —“

Growling in response to your confirmation, Sanemi pushed his hips up, squeezing his cock past that first ring of hot, pulsing muscle. There was some initial resistance due to the simple girth of Rengoku’s length as his flame-haired companion waited with clenched teeth. Sanemi quickly readjusted his stance, widening his feet and thrust up once, sharp and quick, the movement allowing him to sheathe himself once more inside the molten walls of your vice-like cunt.

A cacophony of sighs and strangled moans escaped the three as Sanemi became fully seated inside of you, as the three adjusted to one another.

“Fuck, I can feel you, Shinazugawa,” Rengoku groaned. “God, you both feel —“ he shuddered, and your legs clenched over his forearms as you moaned. “So fucking good.”

—

(…)

Sanemi’s head was thrown back, a whine tearing from his throat. “Fuck, I’m gonna — I need to pull out.” Another sloppy jerk of his hips upwards made it clear how close he was. “Now.”

But you couldn’t stand the thought of losing the comforting warmth of Sanemi’s cock, nor when it felt so good stretching you alongside Rengoku’s as the men alternated their thrusts, your body bouncing with each pointed movement from where you were sandwiched between them.

You were on birth control and both men were already bare inside you; flippantly, you rationalized that you might as well get your use from it.

“D-don’t!” You gasped, one shaky hand leaving its clawed grip against Rengoku’s shoulder in favor of reaching behind you, settling on the rocky expanse of Sanemi’s waist, anchoring him there. “Inside — both of you!”

“Oh fuck,” Rengoku hissed through clenched teeth, his thrusts stuttering. “Y/N — hah — are you sure?”

Reflexively, your legs clenched harder where they were draped over the crook of the fiery Bodyguard’s steely arms.

You nodded, desperate. “I need it — I need you to feel you both.”

Both men’s heads fell back as they simultaneously groaned.

—

(…)

A sudden graze of teeth against your ear made you shiver violently as Sanemi tugged at your lobe. “You’re gonna have to be a good girl, Y/N, and ask nicely, if you want it,” his voice dark and rich.

The white-haired bodyguard punctuated his demand by nearly pulling his cock out entirely from your heat before he snapped his hips up, eliciting deep moans from both his fellow guard and you pressed between them.

A feral, mischevious glint sparked to life in Rengoku’s searing gaze. He shifted beneath you, pushing his leg forward to keep you balanced as he moved one hand away from your thigh and cupped your breast.

Your eyes flew open as Rengoku pinched roughly at your nipple. “You heard your Agent, Y/N,” he rolled your mound in his palm before his fingers repeated the torture. “You need to beg.”

dw Sanemi is gonna suck Kyojuro’s dick later

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinazugawa #kyojuro rengoku #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny sanemi #kny kyojuro #kny rengoku #kny smut #sanemi x reader #kyojuro x reader #demon slayer smut

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vivwritesfics · 1 day

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Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash

Chapter Five

Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.

Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse (no description), throw up (bc i need that warning lmao)

Series Masterlist

Bahrain. The season opener. And she had no idea. After her call with Logan she’d stayed away from all things racing. She’d have given anything to be driving the number fifty three car around that track and couldn’t face the fact that she wasn’t.

Max had tried to call her, but she ignored it. She was having far too much fun with Rooster and his friends to speak to her brother.

She’d never had a beach day like this. It was the sort of environment she’d never been in before, where everyone was just friends. They weren’t insanely competitive (at least, not in the way she and the people she’d grown up with were), and there wasn’t the feeling of dread that one of your friends could have your career ripped away from you and placed into their own hands at any moment.

No, the beach day with the Dagger Squad was actually fun. She hadn’t packed for her trip across the United States with the beach in mind, but Natasha had been kind enough to let her borrow something to wear. As the day got hotter she wore her old team hat, complete with her driver number. There wasn’t anything much more embarrassing than that.

If the Squad thought anything of it, they kept their opinions to themselves. No, she genuinely had fun.

Days like this with Jos Verstappen as your father were few and far between. Any spare moment growing up was spent racing or training. Even as the golden child, Max didn't get any reprieve. But Jos seemed to hate her more than anything.

(Maybe it was because he was stuck with her. She'd been taken from her mother who was deemed unfit to parent and left in his care. How he was considered good enough to look after two children, she'd never know).

(She and her mother had reconnected just before her first season, but they'd never gotten close).

When the Squad started a game of football, she'd shaken her head, insisting that she was happy watching. Besides, she didn't know how to play American football, her only experience was having footballs thrown at her before the race in Miami.

But they insisted. Bradley had taken her hands and pulled her to her feet, but she was quick to sit back down. And, when that happened, he threw her over his shoulder. She shrieked and pounded her fists against his back, but her uncontrollable laughter gave everything away.

He put her down between Bob, Nat, and Mickey. "You okay?" He asked, searching her face for any sign of discomfort.

But she was grinning ear to ear as she said, "Yeah, Roos. I'm okay."

He joined Jake, Javy and Rueben across from them, and the game began.

As it turns out, navy pilots are incredibly competitive. But that was good. Because she was, too. But they weren't competitive in the way that she was. It wasn't treated like life or death with them, not like it was growing up trying to get into racing. They wanted to beat each other but just because it was fun.

Not because they were afraid of what their dad would do if they lost.

To the Squad, the way she avoided the ball was hilarious. But then the ball landed in her hands. With wide eyes, she turned towards Bob. "What do I do?" She asked in a panic.

Bradley, Jake, Javy and Rueben were all racing towards her. This was maybe the most terrifying moment of her life (psych, it wasn't even close).

"Run!" Bob cried. So she did just that.

She tucked the football beneath her arm and ran. As it turns out, she was only fast on the racetrack. She didn't get very far, not before Bradley wrapped his strong arms around her middle and lifted her off the ground.

"Bradley!" She shrieked and tried to throw the ball to Nat.

The game was forgotten to the two of them as the others continued playing. "Not bad," he mused as she turned in his arms. That smirk played on his lips, the tantalising one that had drawn her in in the first place. "Are you sure your only sport is driving?"

"Racing," she corrected as she pushed at his chest. But she didn't put much effort into it, not quite ready to leave his arms. "Well, if my career doesn't get back on track, I'm sure I could try out for the New York Dolphins."

A groan left his lips and his head fell forward. "You're killing me here, baby," he mumbled and pressed his lips against her own.

A few beers later, as the sun set on a perfect day, Bradley led her back to the Bronco. "Can I drive?" She asked a sober Bradley, wearing a smile that was all too convincing.

"Three beers and you think you're ready for the Bronco? Someone needs to learn to handle their drink," he said, voice teasing as he pulled her around to the passenger side. Bradley kept a hold of her hand as she climbed in. As soon as she was sat, she swivelled in her seat to face him and pulled his aviators from his face.

He didn't look at her with annoyance, as she had been expected as she put the sunglasses on. No, the expression he wore was full of fondness. "You had a good day, kid?"

The nickname was affectionate, fort he times he was feeling soft with her. It was his favourite of the bunch, the one that had a dopey smile crossing her face. "Yeah," she said, leaning to the side and letting her head fall against the seat. "I like your friends."

He pushed her legs around so that she was facing forwards. "They like you too," he said, gently pulling the aviators from her face and placing them back on his own.

He climbed into the other side of the Bronco and began driving. As soon as they were on the road, heading back to his, she took the hand closest to her and put it on her thigh, a satisfied hum leaving her lips. "There," she mumbled, placing her hand on top of his own.

"You okay?" He asked again, and she nodded. He'd never seen her so quiet before. It was a new side of her, one he didn't exactly mind. But, then again, he so far loved all sides of her. "Jake said they're gonna keep the party going in The Hard Deck. D'you wanna join them?"

Again, she nodded. "Okay, kid," he said softly as he pulled into the driveway. "Let's get some food in you, first."

It was a pleasant evening with Bradley before they headed out to The Hard Deck. But, then again, most evenings with Bradley were pleasant. She showered and got changed while he stood in the kitchen, making her something to eat, dressed in nothing but his beach shorts.

it was a quick turn around, her getting showered and changed. As soon as she was dressed she silently padded into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around him. The smell of the sea air lingered on his skin. Heaven.

It was a simple dinner, but Bradley made the portions larger than she thought possible. She couldn't finish it all, and that was okay. After he'd eaten, Bradley jumped in the shower and got dressed into one of his signature Hawaiian shirts.

"Feeling slightly more sober?" He had asked as he pulled her up from the couch. She nodded but Bradley shook his head. "Words, baby."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Roo. I promise you I'm feeling a lot more sober." She muttered something in a language he didn't understand, something that had her giggling. At her giggles, Bradley pinched her sides. But he took her hand and led her out to the Bronco.

Her first reminder of the opening race that she was missing came the moment they walked into The Hard Deck. She spotted four screens, one on every wall. It had to be some sort of joke.

"No way," said Bradley, pointing at the first screen he saw.

She said nothing as she sat at the bar and ordered a drink. She kept her eyes on the wood of the counter top as Bradley sat beside her. The rest of the Dagger Squad were gathered around the pool table, but she couldn't face them in that moment. She couldn't face anyone.

"Which one is your brother?" Bradley asked.

Penny placed her drink down in front of her and she finished it in one go. It wasn't glamorous. She slammed the glass down onto the counter top with enough force to break it. It was a miracle it didn't shatter. "The one in front," she spat, and he turned his attention back to the television.

It was a little jarring, hearing the commentary of David Croft in a place so far removed from racing. It went a shudder down her spine as she ordered another drink.

She didn't have much else after that. It didn't feel right to be ordering gin and tonics when she knew that was how her brother would be celebrating his win.

The naval officers in the bar threw questions her way, but they didn't seem to register just how much harm that was doing. This was fine, she tried to tell herself. It could be a whole lot worse.

Every time the number three car was mentioned, she couldn't help the anger she felt. That was the fucker that took her seat. And he wasn't even performing well. That had to be the biggest piss take of them all.

As hard as the Squad tried to get her to join them, she refused. Bradley joined them for a little bit, not before making sure she was okay. She stayed sitting at the bar, her only company Captain Pete Mitchell. And what company he was. He had asked more questions than anybody else and he wasn't shy about it.

They were maybe the slowest fifty seven laps of her life. But she was coping. Bradley joined her again, a welcome distraction from the race. If anybody could tell she was bothered, it was him. So, he spoke about anything but the race.

But then she looked up at the screen. For the first time since they'd arrived at The Hard Deck, for the first time since lights out, she looked up at one of the screens on the wall.

Her father had been a haunting presence ever since the start of her karting career. Well, he was the whole reason she had a career in the first place. Because of him, she knew nothing but racing. She had no life skills, barely had the ability to take care of herself because of him.

But that wasn't why she threw up on the floor of The Hard Deck. When you grow up the way she did, repressing memories becomes second nature when you see that person every day. But she hadn't seen Jos in months, not since the summer break in August.

It had been seven months since she'd last seen her father. All the memories, all the shit she'd suffered at his hands as a child, came back in one exhausting go.

That was why she threw up on the floor of The Hard Deck. "Shit," she whispered as she wiped at her mouth. She must have looked like a drunk idiot. "I'm so sorry, Penny, I..."

But what excuse did she have for this? "Fuck," Bradley whispered as he pulled her to stand straight. She'd expected to see sympathy on his face, but sympathy wasn't what she found.

Penny shook her head as she grabbed the mop and bucket from behind the bar. "It's okay," she said and turned her attention to Bradley. "Just make sure she gets home okay."

He said nothing as he took her out to the Bronco.

a/n: this might be my favourite chapter so far, i've got so much planned for these two (and if you've had to listen to my roo and [redacted] brainrot im sorry)

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btsmosphere · 2 days

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Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 5: Scared of a Little Lightning

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: With the threat of Bolt rising, so do tensions within the base.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 6.3k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, supervillains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, and also with fists, they fight in this one okay, swearing, hella tension and anger issues, arguing, angry Namjoon (yes that is a warning). it's just a tense chapter😅

a/n: oH I am EXCITED for this chapter!!! It's a juicy one if I say so myself😌I am begging you to come chat with me about it, things are heating up!! Be it an ask, comments, tags, hearing from you guys about this series is an absolute joy so far and it's making me giddy posting each week wondering what you guys will think👀thank you so much, that's a great feeling! I hope you enjoy reading the chapter as much as I did writing it!💜

Whatever Jungkook thought of you staying, you couldn’t care less.

While he glared, you ignored him and instead enjoyed the new additions to your routine. In fact, though you wouldn’t admit it, it gave you a bit of pleasure to know he was gritting his teeth as you continued as part of their lives.

However, he still had his chance to make your life a misery. He had taken to actively antagonising you rather than straight-up ignoring you as he had previously in training.

That was what it felt like, at least, when he was yelling “faster!” into your ear as you fired bolts as rapidly as you could muster. It was never good enough for him.

It only got worse when he took to flinging the targets around your training space with a well-aimed jet of gold. That kind of precision and strength was something you could barely hope to achieve with your powers. Even trying to hit the targets in the air was beyond you, let alone being able to actually throw one, as Jungkook did with such ease.

Though in some ways it was refreshing to have a different training routine, in most other respects it was anything but.

Anyone else could be forgiven for thinking he was simply trying to push you now that you were in line to join their team, but you knew better. The smirks that occupied his face when you failed gave it away. You tried desperately not to give him that satisfaction, but eventually you always lost out to exhaustion, leaving him triumphant.

On the contrary, physical training which you now had to take part in, was welcome relief.

Usually Hoseok was the one training with you, which you were ecstatic about. Of course, he was mainly needed to show you the ropes in the beginning, and once you understood how to use all the gym equipment, you could more or less do it yourself. But he was in there anyway a lot of the time, and you were more than happy with the way he would chat away as you worked out side by side. It felt nice to spend time with someone who actually wanted you there – who would help, or play stupid games with you, or drag you into doing pairs exercises that would never go right, normally ending with you in a hysterical tangle on the floor.

His powers being what they were, however, it was a little discouraging sometimes. You would be red-faced and ready to give up while he still had enough breath in him to gush enthusiastically about the latest band that took his interest, all while doing pull-ups.

But then Yoongi would appear (out of nowhere, as always) and grumble along with you, making fun of his ‘over-active’ brother while Hope laughed loudly.

Spending even more time in the training areas made you feel like this place was really alive. It was completely different to anywhere you had lived before, solely because you weren’t alone.

Jin had taken you directly to your old place the day after you had accepted Namjoon’s offer. It had hardly crossed your mind, so you were surprised to see it as you had left it. Apparently Kuyang had been covering the rent for you.

It must not have been much of a strain for him, you thought, standing in the doorway of your place and thinking of his laboratory in a skyscraper. The two hole-in-the-wall rooms that made up your apartment were a far cry from anywhere in the centre of town. You were almost embarrassed for Jin to follow you in there, but then he was pushing past to drop several empty boxes on the worn carpet and apologising that your new room wouldn’t be so big.

“That’s hardly the same thing,” you snorted, taking the first box through to your bedroom, “have you seen your kitchen?”

Looking over to your sorry excuse for a kitchen, Jin couldn’t argue. He half-grimaced.

“Who really needs an oven in this day and age anyway?” he tried.

Rolling your eyes with a snort, you pulled open your wardrobe and set to packing.

Halfway through, several indistinguishable shouts bled through the ceiling. What startled you was that you almost didn’t notice it, used to it as you had been.

Jin had stopped, and stared at you in alarm, but you just chuckled and told him that was how it was, living on top of other families.

In the end, you didn’t use all of the boxes. You looked around, just in case, for something you would never miss. It hadn’t taken much to empty the place of all trace of you, though you left the fridge well alone, not daring to discover the state of what you had left.

You dropped your keys on the table and left the silence behind.

Back home, there was always sound, activity. During your water breaks or after training, you would see the others training too. It felt like you were all in it together. Even with the knowledge that you could barely compare to the skill the boys had with their respective powers, you reminded yourself that they wanted you on the team.

Well, most of them did.

But you would keep working and improving. You would get there.

Jimin finally returned to training again too, after a few days where he hardly left V’s side. Seeing his boyfriend so hurt had certainly brought out Jimin’s protective side, even more than normal. It was honestly quite endearing – that was until you had passed Jimin in the training room, hurling his weights through the air with such ferocity you were surprised it didn’t dent the walls.

Hurrying past, you had decided to leave him to it. After so long being strong for his boyfriend, he certainly needed that.

The pink glow of his eyes shouldn’t be such an intimidating sight, but you knew you didn’t want to get in the way of him.

With Jimin downstairs, you found V in the living room. He had been steadily recovering, quicker than someone without powers would have done, but still you knew he had been instructed to take it easy.

A quick shower later, you were less out of breath, but still weary from a day of hard work.

Next time you returned, V was in the kitchen. You couldn’t see what he was doing, but you didn’t want him to be up for too long. Ignoring your desire to sink into the nearest chair, you walked over.

“Need help with anything?”

V didn’t look around at you, but shook his head as he reached up to a cupboard.

Not wanting to push, you slid into a chair at the counter. You were unable to resist resting your head on one hand, but you fought to keep your eyes open so you could check on V.

Somewhere along the way, you failed at your intention. A new set of footsteps entering the space disturbed you as you had been dozing lightly, but the moment you caught yourself, your eyes were flying open.

With your tired state, you couldn’t even bring yourself to shoot a glare at Jungkook, who was walking up to the counter. You only gathered the energy to avoid his eyes entirely.

Jungkook appeared to have the same idea, walking past without acknowledging you. But as he drew level with V, the older boy turned away and crossed to the counter where you sat.

Lifting your head from your hand, you blinked as V walked right up to you. The next moment, he was pushing a steaming mug of tea right under your nose.

Opening your mouth, your tired brain couldn’t formulate words, but conjured a similar image from when you had made him tea the first time you spoke. You still regretted accidentally setting him off then, unintentionally letting your powers go.

Perhaps you were forgiven?

“Thank you,” you spoke quietly, meeting V’s eyes. You couldn’t decipher his expression, but he was watching you, and smiled lightly when you replied.

As he turned and walked back over to the sofa, your eyes landed on Jungkook, who still stood across from you. For a long moment, he held your gaze with a poker face. Then his eyes fell to the mug cradled between your hands, a frown darting across his expression.

Swallowing, you waited for whatever venomous comment he had prepared for you, to warn you away from V. Even after you had helped treat V’s wound, Jungkook had been opposed to you being near his injured brother.

He turned away without a word.

A crash echoed through the empty rooms.

Staring as the sparks jittered across the surface of the battered target, you dropped your arms to your sides. The training area was deserted aside from you, and you waited until you could no longer hear the crash faintly ricocheting from the walls.

Eyes still trained on the target, you panted, chest heaving.

Though you were training alone today, you could practically hear Jungkook telling you not to give in. Who knew all those insults would become motivational?

Whether it was motivation or the fear of falling behind, it succeeded.

Exhausted as you were from your training, you decided to make the most of your unsupervised session and try one more thing. Locking your trembling arm straight ahead, you took a breath and let your powers fill you up until that familiar blue burst from your palms.

But instead of aiming short bursts at the various different targets positioned around the space, you gritted your teeth and held it, lightning spilling in a continuous blue bolt towards the central target.

You had no idea how to do this, but it had always impressed you when Jungkook could lift things with his powers. All you had been taught to do was shoot. Still, you took a breath when you felt confident that your power was flowing strongly, focussing on the metal disc.

The way the sparks ensnared the target gave you assurance as you slowly raised your arm.

You felt a resistance you had never felt before as the electricity lifted, tugging at the target. It felt that you were connected to it somehow.

Tensing, you focussed intently, loading more power into the bolts already shooting through the air. Maintaining the motion of your arm, you gaped as you saw the circular metal raise along with the blue power dragging it.

You had done it! You were lifting it, it was moving-

Like a switch had been flipped, the flow of power cut off, the bright blue that dominated the space fading. The moment your powers retreated, you found yourself gasping, a wave of fatigue near enough sweeping you away.

Your knees hit the floor as the same time as the target. Wincing at the harsh metal clattering loudly on the floor, you screwed your eyes shut for a moment. Your chest continued to heave, and you noticed the sheen of sweat that had broken onto your forehead.

But once your breathing steadied again, you laughed.

The next moment, you let out a loud whoop, flopping flat onto the floor.

You had managed something new! Laughter continued to shake you as you caught your breath on the floor. Jungkook didn’t have to teach you everything – it seemed you could manage to strive forwards by yourself, even if you weren’t good enough in his eyes.

It took you a while to get up. Not even the thought of Jungkook’s nagging could have motivated you to do another iota of training.

About all you could manage was to drag yourself upstairs for food, but the smile never left your face.

Lunch was a simple sandwich. Already thinking forward to your session in the gym this afternoon, you couldn’t be bothered to make anything more demanding.

You still made two plates, however, leaving the other out for whenever V was hungry. Today the others had gone out, but with him still healing, he couldn’t go with them like normal.

You had heard Jin scolding him to make him stay, though; it seemed he felt well enough already to want to go out again.

This time, you didn’t particularly mind their absence. There was no sense of secrecy, no need to for you to turn on the news while you wondered what they were up to. As the soon-to-be newest addition to the team, you had been present to hear all the details.

Of course, given the way things went last time they returned from a job, there was an undeniable edge of nerves.

But it was an easy mission. That was what they had said, and what you kept reminding yourself.

They were concerned that Bolt had been showing interest in a lab on the western edge of the city, and wanted to protect it. Yoongi and Hope had been watching it for a while Jin and Namjoon did some digging around Bolt, and whatever his intentions may be. The latter seemed to have found frustratingly little, but didn’t let the mystery of Bolt stop them from acting.

The whole group was focussed on keeping the lab safe. Since the developer was one of their allies, they had all the details they needed to be one step ahead if Bolt should attack, which they highly expected.

Although you had kept your mouth shut at the meeting, not wanting to cause problems by irritating Jungkook when the team needed him, you had enjoyed the experience. For once, you didn’t feel particularly out of your depth. Having been Kuyang’s secretary for a while, you were well used to looking at plans such as the one of this lab, which you had pretty much memorised. The fighting and the powers, you were still working on. But at least you could understand the logistical side of their job.

After lunch, you lounged in the empty living space for perhaps a little too long. But with no one around to judge you, you let your tired limbs rest for a bit.

When you eventually made it off the sofa, you passed V in the hall. You noticed the small black receiver clutched in his hand; the boys had decided that keeping him in the loop while they were out on the mission would ease his nerves a bit.

“Any news?” you asked him, nodding at it.

V turned his dark eyes on you, then glanced at the receiver before he sighed.

He shook his head.

You had to admit you shared his disappointment, but you forced a smile to your face nonetheless.

“Well, no news is good news, right?”

Your smile seemed to be for nothing, as his eyes never lifted high enough to look at your face. Instead he gave a noncommittal shrug.

“I, uh, made you a sandwich,” you told him, “make sure to eat, and don’t worry too much, yeah?”

Walking down to the training rooms again, you felt the sadly familiar desire to do more creeping in. You never would have thought that after gaining the ability to shoot lightning, you could ever feel so powerless.

Nothing would happen to them.

You had seen their plan, it was so detailed.

There was no way Bolt would be able to outsmart them.

As you started training, these thoughts revolved around your mind in time with your steps on the treadmill. By the time you were using the machines, gritting your teeth as you pushed the weights with all your might, you weren’t sure if your mantras were helping.

They would come back…

Reaching the peak of a sit-up, you let out a groan.

There were six of them out there, Bolt was outnumbered…

Were you certain? Or were you repeating these thoughts just to convince yourself?

Finishing your set, you slumped back to the floor and stared up at the plain ceiling. This space was tucked in the corner of the gym, and you felt sheltered by the machines that blocked you from view, even though you were alone.

Breathing deeply, you brought a hand up to massage your brow. As you tried to ease the pressure, you closed your eyes.

In the darkness behind your eyelids, a light seemed to bloom. Blue, all too familiar, dancing over a face you had seen just once in the flesh but would never forget. A bright flash had your eyes flying open again, heart hammering as it expected the drop from who knows how many floors up-

Your heavy breathing fell alone in the silence.

Swallowing back the memories of Bolt, you tried to push back the fear that was curling tighter around your stomach at the thought of your friends out there with him.

You had just pushed yourself gently to sit when a sharp clang sounded, along with a muffled yell, making your head whip around to its source.

One positive thing was that you didn’t have to worry about the boys being out any more. But there were new concerns on your mind as you saw Jungkook storming into the gym. A muscle in his jaw popped as he ripped his jacket off forcefully, casting it to the floor as he stalked to one of the machines.

You watched him with wide eyes, stunned by his entrance. He hadn’t seen you yet.

His whole body seemed fraught with tension as he stood, back facing you, eyeing a machine. Fists clenched at his side, his shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breathing.

Just when you thought he was going to stand still all day, he aimed a harsh kick at the base of the machine, another clang ringing through the space.

That startled you into action, springing to your feet. While you walked between machines back to the centre of the room, he had grasped the bars and started pushing them, grunting as the weights lifted and fell, clashing against the others.

Stopping a few paces away, you stayed silent for a moment. The frustration emanating from him, the intimidating muscles revealed by his vest, all made you wary of him.

Pulling yourself together, you took a breath. Why should you let him scare you?

“Jungkook.”

He froze. His arms were together in front of him, the machine’s weights hovering as he held them there.

With a huff of air, he dropped his head between his shoulders. Slowly, he turned his head towards you slightly.

“What happened?” you asked, refusing to be deterred by his challenging sideye, “is everyone okay?”

Biting at the inside of his cheek, he turned his glare away from you, aiming it instead at the floor. When he spoke, his voice was low and deadly, restrained as if he would burst if he didn’t control his tone.

“We fucking lost half the place.”

“But everyone’s back? Then it’s okay-”

Metal clanging loudly together made you jolt, unable to help yourself from taking a step back when Jungkook let the weights drop and strode across the space between you.

“We should have had the upper hand! We did everything we planned, but Bolt still…” his nostrils flared as he took a breath, “we had to blow half of it up, just so he wouldn’t get to it.”

Sighing heavily, he turned away from you, shoving a hand through his hair.

Frowning slightly, you watched the frustrated man. Of course you were glad everyone was safe, but the fact they had lost the lab felt like a blow, even to you.

“How…?” you spoke quietly, but it only seemed to rile him up.

Whirling back to face you, his eyes blazed.

“He’s too strong. We let him get too far already. If you think you’re gonna help us at all out there, you’re wrong.” He stepped slowly towards you as he spat his words, “we can’t do enough against him, you’ll only slow us down.”

He stopped, glaring down at you now you were practically nose to nose. Your own anger bubbled within you – why did he bring you into this? His lashing out at you was uncalled for.

“I’m joining you guys because Namjoon wants my help,” you shot back, “or do you not trust him? I’ll be ready, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, eyes narrowing, poisonous stare intensifying, but you refused to back away. Scowling, his mouth opened to retort-

“Hey! Y/N?”

Jungkook’s mouth snapped closed, the same moment you turned your back on him to find Jin and Yoongi standing in the doorway.

Stepping into the gym, Jin looked past you to Jungkook, fixing him with a stare.

“Time to back off, Kook.”

At first, you were pleased to have someone else see how irrational Jungkook was acting towards you. But then Jin turned to you.

“I think you ought to go upstairs.”

Giving you a tight smile, Jin moved past you towards Jungkook, leaving you stunned.

“Just let him cool off.”

Slightly jumpy, you looked around to find Yoongi right beside you. Raising an eyebrow, he waited for you to come away.

Sighing, but biting your tongue, you set off. Yoongi fell into step beside you as you left. With one last look back, you saw Jin leaning against the machine where Jungkook had now resumed his rage workout, talking too low for you to hear.

As you emerged into the main training space, Hope was just coming from the stairs. His pace was rapid, but slowed when he saw you, seeming to deflate.

“Everything alright?” he jogged up to you and took a place on your other side.

“I just don’t get what his problem is,” you confessed, irritation bleeding into your words. “He turns everything on me somehow.”

The boys either side of you shared a glance.

“He’s just frustrated, but he’ll come around. This thing with Bolt is a bit more serious than we anticipated,” Yoongi explained.

Taking a moment to process his words, you swallowed back the continuing anger you felt towards Jungkook. You knew why he was upset, it just didn’t make it any easier to take.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you cursed, shaking your head, “is everyone okay? I wasn’t even thinking about all that after Jungkook…”

“Yeah,” Hoseok nodded, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “We’ll figure it out. Just because today didn’t go so well, doesn’t mean we can’t win next time.”

“But how was your training?” Yoongi moved on, “I’m surprised you made it to the gym without Hobi to bully you-”

“Hey!” Hobi exclaimed, “Y/N’s a great student. She’s working hard. You’ll be able to join us soon at this rate.”

He directed this last at you, nudging you with his elbow. But his bright smile no longer struck the same confidence in you. Instead, you felt Jungkook’s words take root inside you.

“I just hope I can be useful…” you muttered.

“You have nothing to worry about.”

It may well have been the first time Hoseok didn’t manage to alleviate you worries, even slightly. When you got upstairs, it was to find Namjoon had disappeared to his office already, Jimin clearly faking a smile for V and near silence as Jin and Jungkook remained downstairs.

Even Hobi, trying to bring your mind away from Jungkook, had a downtrodden slope to his shoulders.

That night, you did nothing but contribute to the despondent quiet in the house.

These men had so much more experience than you did, and yet they were unable to save the lab from Bolt’s clutches. How were you going to help them?

But you knew one thing for sure: you had to.

It was with renewed determination that you headed down to train the next morning.

You arrived a little before Jungkook, depositing a towel and water bottle by the wall as he entered behind you.

“Still here?” he asked dryly, crossing the space to lean against the wall.

Straightening up, you rolled your eyes.

“What does it look like?”

“Looks like you’re naïve enough to think you’re going to be any help.”

Gritting your teeth at his retort, you restrained yourself from insulting him in return.

“Let’s just start training, shall we?” you bit out.

Clearly some of your attitude had bled through, however, because Jungkook pushed off the wall and marched towards you. His dark eyebrows drew together.

“What for?” he spat, “you can barely handle the training room, what makes you think you’ll be any good out there-”

“That’s what training is for,” you countered, unable to help your voice rising.

“I have more important things to focus on than YOU!” his voice raised in return, “you’ll never be ready.”

And with that, he shook his head, starting to walk away from you. For a second, you could only gape in outrage at his back as he stormed away. But he only made it a few paces before you recovered yourself, stepping forwards.

“I am ready!”

Your hands balled at your sides as he froze in place. You remembered the power that ran through them, your success in training yesterday. Jungkook was done underestimating you.

He spun to face you.

“Prove it.”

Not a second after his words, a slice of gold cut through the air, straight towards you.

Ducking out of the way, you whirled around again to find Jungkook advancing towards you, lopsided smirk on his face and gold light whirling in his irises. This time, you reacted when he raised an arm, blue racing to meet his gold in the air and colliding in a shower of sparks.

Feeling the thrum of electricity in your veins, you felt stronger. You stepped forwards, meeting his eyes in challenge. He thought you were too weak? That you would give up?

Jungkook threw his arm to the side, severing the beam of light that connected you, but instantly fired another bolt which you leapt aside from. The next moment, you recoiled, intercepted by a second streak of lightning cutting through your path.

You were driven back into the path of one more blast as it shot through the air, forcing you to fling yourself to the ground as sparks ripped overhead.

“Please,” Jungkook let out a scoff, “I could beat you with my hands behind my back.”

You had already jumped to your feet, lifting your palms.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Blue erupted towards him then, his own trick used against him as two beams of light penned him in, one either side.

Quirking an eyebrow, Jungkook aimed his palm to the ground, to your surprise. The next moment saw him pushing off the ground, boosted by a jet of gold as he vaulted over your attack. Reacting quickly, you shot towards him again as he was still a blur in the air.

Gold blazed to meet it, an explosion of embers as they collided. You felt Jungkook throw the attack off, sending you stumbling as your lightning collided with a resounding clash against a pile of metal targets that were stacked by the wall.

To your satisfaction, though, the clearing sparks revealed the man staggering up from the floor. It seemed you weren’t so incapable as he thought.

“Still think I’m not ready?” you called, laughter lining your voice.

Jungkook said nothing, drawing himself to his full height and looking around.

Gold light streaked towards the side of the room then, sending a shape flying towards you.

You ducked, the target clanging against the wall behind you. But more were already coming your way, Jungkook rapidly firing more gold through the air.

Undeterred, you didn’t hesitate to fire back, knocking the targets from the air with well-aimed blows of your own. The room filled with flashes of light, blue against gold, fuelled by the two of you throwing everything you had.

But your powers began to slip, reluctant to work so quickly. You could feel yourself tiring, and it was a matter of seconds before you missed, too sluggish to catch one target that shot your way.

It caught your arm, hard, pulling you off balance. You stumbled, one knee hitting the floor as you steadied yourself. Instinctively, the other arm covered your head, waiting for more blows.

But nothing came.

Panting hard, you looked around.

Jungkook stood tall opposite you, the epitome of power as strength filled his form and flowed from his fingertips. His eyes shone with an identical light. Two more targets were suspended in the air by sustained gold beams. He kept them hovering there. Taunting you.

“Like I said,” he growled, “not ready. And if I can do this, it means Bolt can.”

Face burning in humiliation, you pushed yourself to stand.

“What are you so scared of?” you spat, “if you’re so powerful, how come you’re afraid of one man?”

“Don’t you dare-” he began, but you cut him off.

“No!” you yelled over him, “you’re the weak one! You just can’t admit you need me out there because you’re scared of a little lightning.”

In the blink of an eye, the targets dropped from the air, clashing deafeningly against the ground as Jungkook chose to charge at you himself. His teeth were bared as he ran forwards, grabbing you and sending the both of you to the floor.

Jungkook was strong, to say the least. You couldn’t escape his weight that pinned you down, no matter if you thrashed.

His face was so close to you, breathing almost as heavily as you. As you met his blazing eyes, you saw the gold glow fading, darkness taking over.

Gritting your teeth, you pushed back at him, letting your power flow from your hands. Using powers had seemingly slipped his mind; he didn’t see your attack coming, and you successfully sent him reeling, your blow of lightning throwing him off you.

But he found his feet at the same time you did, and scrambled towards you again.

A fist flew towards you, and you countered it with a blast of blue.

Instead of retaliating again, he stumbled back. A smirk crept over your face. Something had got to him; you had riled him up.

“Something wrong?” you asked innocently.

Big mistake.

Maybe Jungkook hadn’t been thrown. Maybe he had just been recharging.

Because now he was advancing again, and his fists were surrounded by gold sparks, that same gold glowering from his eyes once more. You could only match his power for so long. You weren’t as fast as him, and every blow you deflected only made way for another to follow the next instant.

Stumbling backwards, away from him, the back of your leg collided with a bench, and you fell back, heart hammering in panic.

You never met the ground. A fist found your shirt and you were being slammed against the wall instead.

Feet flailing, you called on the last embers of your powers to push back, but Jungkook captured your hand with his free one. He pinned it against the wall, where your sparks danced together in an impossible wrestle.

Meanwhile, his other hand which forced you against the wall didn’t let up, digging more harshly into your throat as you faltered.

Gasping and struggling fruitlessly against him, you stared into the molten gold of his eyes as he pressed his face closer to you.

“You know nothing,” he hissed, “you’ll never be ready-”

“JUNGKOOK!”

A cacophony of voices suddenly swelled, joined by hurried footsteps.

The pressure on your throat was gone then, and you met the ground at last. But your feet couldn’t hold you up, and you crashed to the ground choking on the air that was finally forcing its way to your lungs.

Blinking, you looked up. The first thing you saw was pink, Jimin coming into focus beside you. Concern filled his eyes as your gasping continued, a hand falling onto your shoulder.

But you avoided his eyes in favour of finding what had become of Jungkook.

A few paces away, more of the boys were huddled, still jostling as Jungkook tried to escape. Hoseok was behind him, unrelenting grip on the younger’s arms stopping him from going anywhere. Even though you both knew Hope was the strongest of you all, that wasn’t stopping Jungkook from trying. Gold still bounced off the walls, blinding flashes shooting between, but missing, the members who barely seemed phased by his outbursts.

You couldn’t get a good glimpse of your rival though. He was eclipsed by Jin, who was trying to steady him by the shoulders, speaking quickly and sternly to the incensed man.

On his other side, Yoongi had a hand on his chest, pushing him back and further away from you.

Just then, another set of footsteps, not frantic like the others, made you look around. And even though his gaze travelled first to Jungkook, you couldn’t help but feel your veins freeze with dread.

Namjoon looked furious.

He marched in, V scurrying at his heels. At the sight of his leader, Jungkook seemed to finally ease up a bit, the scuffle quietening down.

A silence seemed to settle over the room, Jungkook’s last struggles dying away as Namjoon cast his eyes around everyone. A faint red haze flitted across his eyes and the lights in the room flickered perilously.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

It was the only time you had felt something close to solidarity with Jungkook. When you looked at each other, you could tell he gulped just like you.

“I thought this was going well,” he shook his head slightly. Your heart sank.

Raising his eyes to meet Jungkook’s again, he took a couple of steps towards the younger while the room held its breath. The lights turned red for a split second, then dimmed again, retreating as if they were equally afraid of the imposing leader.

“I don’t know what you were thinking. You’re supposed to be helping her, and this is how you go about that? You could have killed her! Is this your way of showing you can be trusted?!”

Namjoon never quite raised his voice enough to yell. But still you winced at the anger laced into his tone, and the arm he threw out towards you as he ranted.

Part of you stung anew after he said Jungkook could have killed you. You wanted to protest, hurt swelling within you at the insinuation that you were still too weak – but you pushed it down. The ghost of pain that lingered where Jungkook had struck you reminded you that he was right, as much as it shamed you to admit it, even to yourself.

Jungkook looked down, not able to keep eye contact with his enraged leader.

Sucking in his cheeks, Namjoon took a breath. But you certainly weren’t breathing. You could only hang on for whatever he said next, and the way he cast his eyes between the two of you didn’t instil much hope.

He fixed his eyes on you next.

“I told you I expected you to be able to trust us, including Jungkook. It’s clear you haven’t been able to do that yet. I’m sorry.”

Though he didn’t speak with as much fury, his sadness almost made you feel worse. You wished he would yell at you, give you something to push back against as Jungkook did.

But all you were left with was a punch to the gut more painful than anything the tempestuous younger boy could deliver.

His next words only made it worse.

“I’m keeping you back here until I’m sure you’re ready. I wanted you active as soon as possible, but not like this.”

Although his stern gaze lingered for a moment longer, you barely reacted. His words didn’t feel real. You could only stare blankly at him while the shock reeled through you.

When he turned away, you caught Jungkook’s eye. The satisfied glint you found there made your hands ball into fists.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon sighed now, pinching his nose, “same goes for you.”

At first, you weren’t sure you had heard him right.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one. Jungkook’s eyes widened in horror, straining against Hobi for another brief moment.

“What-?”

“I can’t have you acting like this while your head needs to be in the game, now more than ever. You’ll be staying behind until you show me you can be trusted with each other.”

Unlike with you, Namjoon fixed his dongsaeng with a hard stare, challenging him in some unspoken conversation until he seemed satisfied.

Turning to leave, Namjoon’s gaze fell on you again. His eyes softened, travelled to Jimin.

“Take her upstairs.”

With that, he stalked from the room. Light bled into the room again, but no one moved until he disappeared from the doorway, almost certainly returning to his office.

V stayed behind this time, and now moved towards you. Jimin’s hand on your arm shifted so he could help tug you up to stand. Though you may have stumbled a little, you were sure you could walk fine.

Still, you were grateful for Jimin’s hovering grip on your arm and V’s presence on your other side as they led you to the door.

Reaching the edge of the room, you glanced back at Jungkook. Your aim was to send the most venomous look you could, and it seemed his was the same. Still penned in by the others, who were corralling him away to the corner, he shot you a glare as he shrugged off Hope’s grip in an aggravated movement.

His scowl left your sight as you left the training room, but it stayed imprinted on your memory.

Thank you for reading!! I can't wait to hear what you think of the chapter!👀💜

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wayfayrr · 2 days

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Hey there, I wondered if Tears ever gets insecure about his arm, scars or possibly even his height. Like I find his height absolutely perfect and adorable but he is smaller than most other people and it might bother him?

So I've been wondering how he acts when insecure and what would be a good way to comfort him. I would just hold him and try to convince him of all the good qualities he has. As well as petting through his hair. Making him feel loved and secure. And honestly an extraordinary arm isn't that bad, it doesn't affect who he is after all.

I wonder if that would help or he'd need some other form of comfort. Or maybe to be left alone. Anything from an answer to hc's to a short story or even deletion is fine! If you even have time and are willing that is!

Have a great day! <3

I absolutely loved this request, thank you so much for it - I've gone with three different possible scenarios for why he could be dealing with feeling insecure and some headcanons for how you could help him feel better about himself after each one <3 There is one major one I left out but the issue regarding his memories will definitely be explored some time soon!

honestly exploring tears is just so fun, it's nice tearing into his different layers :3c headcanons under the cut!

[masterlist]

due to his prosthetic

✦ This is the easiest of his insecurities to deal with, as it only really tends to show itself when his phantom pains act up.

✦ he’s long used to having lost his arm by the point that you meet, having had to figure out a replacement for when Rauru’s arm faded after his second quest was over.

✦ despite that though he still isn’t used to the ricocheting pain he gets once every so often, less now than when he was first still drowned in gloom but still just as debilitating.

✦ He just needs to taken away from other people and shown affection, reassured that his is a benefit rather than something people only pity him for.

✦ it’s all he really needs in those moments of vulnerability, when he can feel the flesh being shredded from his none existent bone.

“Wouldn't it be better if there was some way to just have my arm go back to how it should be? That way I wouldn’t be such a burden when he decides to haunt me again.” “Sherbert whatever do you mean? You aren’t a burden for this, why even consider it?” “The whole group has had to come to a stop just because of this stupid pain and I know you’ve seen time getting pissed off with me for the things I can do with it.” “Time’s just an old man who’s worried about your safety, he means no harm with it. Wars got the rest to come to a stop for the same reason, not because you’re a burden, but because we care for you.” “But If my arm wasn’-” “Your arm is part of who you are. And I wouldn’t have it any other way, I love you for you Li, don’t even waste your energy thinking otherwise.”

✦ another way to help him through these patches is more to do with also indulging his love for learning about your home, or well more to the point - stickers. Giving him ones with meaning and that he thinks are pretty help him to work his confidence back. Because it wouldn't be possible without his arm!

due to his height

✦ This comes out even rarer than his doubts about his arm, and only due to a very specific scenario and that’s if you’re talking about Earth's beauty standards - how taller people are often seen as more attractive.

✦ If you aren’t quick to say otherwise he’s going to assume that’s what you think too, it’s going to do a real number on his self esteem - because the thing is, he never really cares about what other people think about him, it simply doesn’t even register as something he should be worried about before he met you outside of the memory issue but that’s a whole other thing

✦ this is the first time that something that REALLY has never been an issue for him becomes a big problem, if you aren’t aware of why he’s feeling like this then the sudden shift will come as a surprise. As he starts to avoid you and tear up whenever you see him before leaving. The rest of the chain mention that they’ve seen him tinkering with things but no one has seen exactly what it is.

✦ the reason it came up was possibly from another member of the chains jealousy of how close the two of you were before this, or simply another villager trying to get you to go with them ‘because why wouldn’ t you want a tall handsome guy?

✦ the sooner you can catch on and comfort him the better, as it’ll give it less time to get stuck in his head that you aren’t comforting him because it’s true, and it’s harder to tell himself that it isn’t while you’re pretty much confirming it

✦ but when you finally do get through to him that you don’t care about his height? That you aren’t secretly judging him for being so short? He’ll have a little moment where he breaks down, he’s been avoiding you for so long… and for what? All that time with you he’s missed over such a ridiculous reason will haunt him for at least a few days.

“Tears? Link what are you doing? You’ve been avoiding me for nearly a week now. And - are those?” “I, no I haven’t been ‘avoiding’ you, just, I’ve just been busy… yeah.” “Were you just making those stilts this whole time? Is that why you’ve blanked me, seriously?” “I just - I, that - in the village.” “Hey, hey lilac there’s no need to cry love, I’m not angry, I’ve just missed you. You don’t have to tell me why, it’s just worried me.” “It - that guy, what he said - I just, wouldn’t you prefer someone taller?” “Well someone taller wouldn’t be you love. And I couldn’t even imagine being with someone else.” “R-really?” “Really darling.”

✦ he'll be impossibly clingy and almost showy after the fact, to the point where other people start getting concerned about how close he's getting - but it's not like he's hurt anyone else over it yet but if the villager who planted the idea in his head ever appears again then, well who would blame him..?

due to his sexuality (haha demiromantic asexual tears hc stepping innn)

✦ This is a bit more of a unique one, because it isn’t something he’s had to put all that much thought into before, it’s just never come up, but when he hears how some of the others talk about relationships he starts to have doubts about himself.

✦ He simply doesn’t feel things that the others have described and the things that he has felt happened so much slower than how they said it did for them. He simply can’t help but question if there was- is something wrong with him.

✦ He only started to fall when he was good friends with you, not the instant connection that he heard that time had with malon, or twi with midna. He doesn’t want you the person who he loves more than his own life to be with someone who he’s starting to think as so broken. If he can’t feel love ‘right’ then how could he hope to treat you right?

✦ If he learns about this being normal, about the fact that other people share the same things as him, that he has flags that can use to show off his identity? It’s the biggest relief that he’s felt since meeting someone who treated him like a person.

✦ once he’s gotten it through his head that he’s not broken, and that he doesn’t need to be worried about not being enough for you. You accept him for what he is and aren’t trying to make him change. It’s something he very very rarely gets to experience, and it definitely helps him feel even closer to you in the end

✦ some of the biggest comfort he gets is you just accepting him and letting his feelings progress at his natural rate, it’s one of the best things he could have hoped for.

#hehe silly boyyyy #love himbbb #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #yandere link #lu tears #totk x reader #totk link #loz x reader #moss✦writes

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celtic-crossbow · 2 days

Text

We Were Built to Fall Apart and Fall Back Together

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Setting: Alexandria (pre-Saviors war) Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; blood, injury, illness; allusions to self harm; canonical character death Summary: After Denise's death, you notice something is terribly off about Daryl, but he won't let you close enough to find out what. A/N: This novel was written for @darylssunshine and my lord, I'm worried that I got too carried away and that's just a ton of rambling and ooc Daryl. 😢

Something was wrong with Daryl.

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you just knew he wasn’t himself. Well, completely himself. He was amped up and ready to fight, ready to take revenge. Everyone seemed to understand why. He had watched Denise die, harbored that guilt upon his own shoulders alone. He had conceded and let her go with him and Rosita. It was his fault that she had been taken from the community, taken from Tara. Of course, that wasn’t true. The blame lay solely on the Saviors, but Daryl was nothing if not self deprecating and stubborn. That—the willingness to take full responsibility, to beat himself down—was commonplace. However, there was something else.

Something in the way he communicated, a quieter tone than usual. Of course, no one else picked up on it. No one else spent 99% of their time with him. No one else had conversations with him in bed, heard him vent or laugh or just talk when everything else was still and quiet. Not like you. No one else heard the different octaves, the slight trembles. To everyone else, he was just talking.

Something in the way he carried himself. Daryl had a specific gait. Nearly silent footfalls when stealth or care was needed but in everyday activities, his boots pounded the ground. He walked with purpose, long and even strides. Not with a slight drag of his left leg. So minuscule that no one seemed to notice. Except you.

Something in the way he ate. Daryl had a healthy appetite. He shoveled food into his mouth like someone would take it from him at any moment. Maybe someone had before. He gave it up willingly when supplies were scarce and he feared the kids would do without. Supplies weren’t at a surplus but no one was starving, yet no one seemed to notice that Daryl wasn’t eating. No one except you.

You had reasons to worry that others had no way of being aware. Daryl wasn’t coming to bed at night. Two nights in a row. You found him on the couch the next morning. That was concerning in itself. Daryl up at the ass crack of dawn Dixon was still asleep when you came downstairs. Once he was awake, there was no conversation. Not a word spoken. He’d forego his coffee and anything to eat and just trudge out the door.

“So.” You leaned back against the wall next to him, narrowing your eyes when he moved to the side just the slightest bit.

“So?” He crossed his arms, hands tucked away in his armpits.

“What’s wrong with you?” You pressed, forcing yourself to keep your distance. He angled his head toward you but kept his eyes on the meeting.

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me.” He rasped in a whisper so quiet that you needed to lean closer to hear him properly. You answered with a simple mhm. There was no point in pursuing the conversation there.

“Has anyone taken inventory since—” Rick let the words filter out, dropping his head with a sniff. “Tara isn’t up for it but we need to know what we’re running low on and—”

“I can do it.” Carol volunteered, standing and smoothing her pants and shirt. “I’ll go now. We know there was quite a list when she—” Even Carol couldn’t seem to muster the words.

“Died.” Daryl finished, his voice rough. Everyone looked at him, a variety of expressions. “What? No one else seems to be able to say it. She was murdered. Killed. Dead.”

Rick was quiet for a moment, as were you, waiting for the next thing someone would say.

“That isn’t on you Daryl. It was the Saviors, and she wanted—”

“The hell it ain’t.” The archer snapped, pulling his body from against the wall with the slightest stagger. You squinted, surveying the room. No one noticed. Of course they didn’t. “I took ‘er out there. Knew better but did it anyway.” He was challenging them, daring anyone to try and take some of the weight of guilt from his shoulders. When no one spoke up, he tapped his fist against the side of his leg and stalked out of the room.

Then it was all eyes on you. A wordless game of who’s gonna check on Daryl was set in motion.

“I’ve got him.” You nodded and left the room. He wasn’t in the foyer and unlikely to be upstairs in a house that wasn’t his own, so you opened the door and traipsed down the porch steps. “Daryl?” A look to the left and then to the right revealed nothing but empty evening streets in Alexandria.

You knew almost everything there was to know about the archer. Including that if he did not want to be found, you would not find him.

You did the only thing you could. You sighed and headed home, hoping just maybe he’d be there, though the odds were against you.

The house was dark when you got there, which was nothing new. Even if he was home, he could move around in the shadows like a ghost. Opening the door, you stepped inside and closed it behind you, opting to leave the lights off for the moment.

“Daryl, are you home?”

Nothing.

Another sigh as you removed your boots and padded into the kitchen, this time, turning on the lights. Coffee would have been the better option but your nerves won out with their persuasive argument for alcohol. You had two bottles of wine that you used in cooking—well, that was the intended use.

Glass poured and book in hand, you turned off the light and perched yourself on the couch, lighting a candle to illuminate the words on the pages while you waited for him. Even if you fell asleep, you’d know if he came home. If the apocalypse had made you into anything, it was a light sleeper. You’d know the moment that door opened.

It never did.

When morning came without a trace of your boyfriend, you passed into another level of worry, the part where the scenarios came intruding upon your usually levelheaded thoughts.

What if he had gone after the Saviors alone? What if he had been hurt? What if he had been—

No. That thought, you simply refused to entertain. Boots on and weapons holstered, you stepped outside. Carol was walking toward your house, but before you could ask if she had seen the missing archer, she was looking up with a hand hovering over her eyes to block the sun. A glance toward you but she remained silent.

Jogging down the steps, you joined her, shielding your eyes and looking toward the roof of your house.

Daryl was perched there, knees drawn up with his arms wrapped around them. He was just watching the townsfolk move about without a word or movement. You worked your jaw back and forth to stifle the annoyance of having him above your head all night while you waited for him until the candle had burned out.

“I got this. Thanks, Carol. Did you need anything else?”

She was still watching her best friend but reluctantly turned to you. “We’re running low on nearly everything in the infirmary. Gauze, gloves, ointments, antibiotics, painkillers, and the meds some of the people need to manage health issues. Would you—”

There was a loud thud several feet away, Daryl straightening—staggering and tilting but yes, straightening—from his jump. “I got it. Make a list.”

“Daryl, maybe you should—” Carol started.

“Make a list.” Was all he said before walking up the steps and into the house.

You started to speak but the other woman was faster. “Something’s not right with him.” She had crossed her arms and was staring at your front door. “He isn’t eating. He’s walking differently and there’s something about his tone.” You blinked at her. “What? Just because you’re sleeping with him, you think the best friend doesn’t notice these things too?” Carol smiled, squinting against the sun.

“Touché.” You conceded with a nod.

“I’ll make the list but go with him. You and someone else. No matter what he says.” Her hand came to rest on your shoulder and squeeze.

“You know I don’t listen to what he says anyway.” You placed your hand over hers and brought it down with a squeeze of your own, separating as you walked toward your house.

Your bag was on a hook by the door, all unused necessities still inside. You merely needed to replenish and pack up some extra clothes. As your boot touched the bottom step of the staircase, you heard the tap begin to run in the kitchen. You carefully hung your bag on the banister post.

Rounding into the room, you found Daryl grasping the edge of the kitchen island, arms outstretched with his head hanging between them. His hair was draped like a curtain, shielding any view of his face. The glass he’d filled sat untouched in front of him.

As you approached, it became apparent that he hadn’t realized you were even in the room. That was beyond concerning. Daryl had an eagle eye and the hearing of an owl. He should have heard you the moment you entered the house.

“Daryl.”

He didn’t startle, just simply squeezed the countertop’s edge. “Take it you’re goin’ too.” He rasped, his words followed by a harsh sniff.

“Of course, I am.” You stepped closer and reached for his hand, your fingertips barely making it halfway before he moved. “Daryl, wait.”

“G’on an’ get ready. Wanna head out, maybe be back ‘fore dark.”

“Listen, I know someth—”

“Take whatcha need in case we gotta make it a overnight thing.” His own bag was on the hook beside where yours had been moments ago. Daryl snatched it as he opened the door and headed outside.

“Stubborn fucking mule.” You grumbled, jerking your bag from the post on your way up the stairs.

You had been in the car for 45 minutes and Abraham had not stopped talking. You loved the big red gorilla but sometimes, he needed several layers of duct tape over his mouth. From the way Daryl was massaging his left temple as he drove, you would need to find that tape or the other man would be riding in the trunk very soon.

“Really puts a burr in my saddle what they did to Denise.”

Shit.

Daryl’s hand tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. The fingers rubbing his temple clenched into a fist. His jaw tightened and ticked. Abe had already been grating his nerves and it seemed the other man had severed the last one completely.

Time to defuse.

You cleared your throat. “So, according to the map, we should take the next right.” With a grunt, the archer followed your directions.

By the time he shifted the car into park, your worry for his well being had reached a crescendo. His eyelids were drooping. A thin sheen of sweat was glistening on any patch of skin you could see. And when he opened the door, he put his boots on the ground and sat for a moment before grasping the top of the door to pull himself up and out.

Something was definitely wrong with Daryl.

He opened the back door and grabbed his bag, slamming it before Abraham could even blink.

“Alright, little lady. What seems to have his panties in a bunch?”

Maybe you really could find some duct tape.

“I have no clue.” You watched Daryl light a cigarette behind the car while he scoped out the strip mall for any signs of danger. Even while standing still, he listed sideways and struggled to right himself. “But it’s nothing good.”

“I’m gonna go on ahead. You check on your dreamboat. See if he needs to sit this one out.” The large man nodded, climbing out of the cramped backseat.

“Oh. Yeah. Right. Cause that’s gonna work.” Abraham just grinned at you and got a clear view of your middle finger in return. Your eyes settled on your archer once again, now leaning against the trunk much as he had the counter that morning. Abraham stopped without getting too close, cracking some joke that at least made himself smile before moving on. Daryl simply shook his head.

Your lips trilling, you finally opened the door and climbed out. Working your arms through the straps of your bag, you closed the car door and rounded the back as Daryl’s hand fell away from his stomach. He caught your narrowed gaze and grunted, pushing himself away from the car.

“S’get this over with.” He grumbled, stalking away at a slower than usual pace. You didn’t even have to walk briskly to catch up as you normally would.

“You—pulled a muscle?” You said in your best game show contestant voice. The man didn’t stop but his eyes slid over to regard you quizzically without turning his head.

“What?”

“You have a migraine?”

“Y/N.”

“Indigestion?”

“Stop.”

“Stubbed your toe?”

“Y/N.”

“A goddamn splinter in your left asscheek? Would you just stop and tell me what’s going on?!” You reached for his shoulder but he sidestepped straight into a graceless stagger, expression pinched and angry.

“Told ya already! Ain’t nothin’ wrong! Just wanna get this done so we can get back to focusin’ on those assholes that killed ‘er!” With a groan of frustration, he pulled his gun from the holster, but you didn’t miss the pain that flashed across his face. “Would ya just—just go that way? Ya got the list. M’gonna see if there’s anythin’ else we can use.”

“Daryl, I know you. Would you please—”

His arm straightened out past your head, pointing a finger on the direction Abe had gone. “G’on.”

Your nostrils flared but you spun on your heel and stomped away. The insufferable archer couldn’t possibly understand how well you knew him if he thought he was hiding anything by being a jerk. Daryl had three types of anger: angry, homicidal rage, and—the one you and everyone else saw the most—deflection. He would use the fear of provoking his ire to keep anyone from detecting that something wasn’t right, whether that be physical or emotional.

Daryl was grieving and guilt-laden. No one could ever make him feel worse than he could on his very own, but per your observations over the last couple of days, that wasn’t the entire issue. There was a physical ailment of some sort. Precarious steps, sweating, exhaustion, poor appetite.

Your stomps slowed to a crawl before your feet were just no longer moving. Abraham had caught sight of you by then, nodding that he had located the pharmacy, but you didn’t notice.

“Oh, my god.” He would have told you, right? You, of all people. There’s no way he wouldn’t have, he wouldn’t have risked everyone. You were already running back to the spot where you had gone your separate ways, the tall redhead’s boots pounding the pavement behind you, but Daryl was no longer there. Not that you thought he would have just stood there anyway.

“What’s all hubbub, bub?” Abe called from just behind you.

You didn’t answer. You continued to take corners and weave in and out of alleys between shops, your gun drawn but not even poised to aim. “Daryl?” You called near frantically. The groans and snarls of hungry corpses grew nearer, sending your heart pumping into overdrive. “Daryl?!”

Rounding into an alley, his name was on the tip of your tongue when a tight grip on your bag yanked you inside the door you had nearly passed right up. With a squeak, you made to raise your weapon only for an overly warm hand to push it back down.

“Y’soundin’ the dinner bell out there or somethin’? S’gotten into ya?” Daryl snapped in a harsh whisper. His face was inches from yours, his hand still folded over your own. His skin was on fire.

Oh god, no.

Abraham’s shadow blocked most of the light from outside the storage room, your words spilling into the shadows. “Daryl, are you bit?” His hand was snatched away as if you had slapped it.

“The fu—no, I ain’t bit. Y’think I wouldn’a told ya?” Daryl hissed, turning to head further into the building.

“I’m beginning to wonder.” You laughed wryly. He just kept walking. “Then you’re sick.”

There came a frustrated groan from the silhouette walking in front of you in the poorly lit area. “Give it a rest, would ya?”

“You have a fever. I felt it. You��re burning up.”

“S’my blood pressure hittin’ the roof cause you’re pissin’ me off!”

You bit your tongue when Abraham chuckled from somewhere behind you. “Who needs the good ol’ boob tube when you’ve got relationships in the end times?” You barely stopped yourself from aiming your gun at the man. There’s a time and a place was a concept with which Abe was drastically unfamiliar.

“Would you stop waking please? I know you’re sick or—or you’re hurt. Just talk to me. I only—”

“M’a grown ass man, Y/N! Don’t need ya tryin’a be my mama!” He grabbed the handles to a set of heavy metal doors, but didn’t try to open them yet. “Get on back an’ find the pharmacy. Gonna meetcha there.”

“Daryl—”

A large hand came to lay heavily on your shoulder, fingers squeezing with a tenderness that brought tears springing to your eyes. “Come on, chickadee. I think we should get on over to that pharmacy.” Daryl was still gripping the handles, his head bowed, the door remaining unopened. “Come on now.”

You swallowed hard with the first step back, wiping angrily at your eyes as you turned to push past Abraham. “Let’s get the shit and go home.” Stepping outside, you squinted against the sun and glanced to your right where the walkers shuffled by in the back alley. They hadn’t noticed you. When a solid thud sounded from behind you, there was no hesitation in rolling your eyes. “Jesus, Abe. Be quiet.”

“Wasn’t me.”

You twisted to regard him, finding thick eyebrows raised while he shook his head. “Daryl.” His name came out across a breath. You pushed past the large man for a second time and navigated through the dimness to where you had left the archer at the door. A dark heap laid against the bottom of the entryway, unmoving. “Daryl? Oh god, Abe!”

“Ssh. The walkin’ uglies are gettin’ closer. We should—oh, shit.”

You were already on your knees, feeling the dry heat of fever in Daryl’s skin when you took his face into your hands. He was no longer sweating; simply burning. “Daryl. Daryl, please open your eyes.” With frantic movements, you started patting him down, moving clothing to examine his skin. “Abe, the flashlight.”

The redhead scrambled to shrug off his bag and pull the device from the side pocket. He clicked it on. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Hold it steady.” Parting Daryl’s vest, you began unbuttoning his shirt. “Turn your head.”

“I’ve seen a man’s chest before, darlin’.”

“Turn your fucking head, Abraham!” You shouted, flinching when you heard a snarl that was much closer than the rest. “Give me the light please.” Your left hand held Daryl’s shirt closed, the buttons undone, while your right hand extended and gestured with urgency. “Please, Abe. Give me the light and go see how many there are—if you can handle them.”

He glanced between you and Daryl, obviously not understanding but did as you asked. Once he had walked out of sight, you lowered your head with a long exhale. Over the months you had known him, Daryl had allowed himself to feel less and less defined by his scars. That didn’t mean he wanted to parade them in front of everyone, even if the individual had already seen them. You and Carol seemed to be the only exceptions to that rule.

The flashlight held beneath your chin, you parted his shirt, the culprit for his symptoms staring you in the face. A bandage covered the lower left side of his abdomen. It was clean but the skin just around the edges was an angry red. Nostrils flaring, you peeled away the gauze and then let go, the tape resticking to small areas. The flashlight fell to the concrete floor.

“You are un-fucking-believable, Daryl Dixon.”

The bullet wound was still open, torn and gaping from his own success in removing the slug, lined with crusts of yellow and a sickly shade of green inside. You knew what this was, this was his punishment. For himself. The burns for Beth. An untreated bullet wound for Denise. He wanted to hurt until he made it right.

“Goddamn you.” You sobbed, removing the bandage entirely. Bowing over him, you let your forehead drop against his chest, shoulders shaking with tears you no longer cared to suppress. No. No, you couldn’t break down. Daryl needed help.

Abe wasn’t fighting. Aside from the distant snarls and scrapes of shuffling feet, you heard nothing.

“Abe?” You called as loudly as you dared, sniffling, your face wet with tears and snot. “Abraham?”

“I’m here, girly.” He appeared within your sight, gore-covered knife in hand. “Got the ones outside.

“He was shot. It’s—it’s infected.” You scrambled to close Daryl’s shirt and picked up the flashlight, the beam trembling. “Would you—I need to go to the pharmacy. We’ll need the meds—everything that’s there. Can you stay with him?” He was shaking his head before you even asked.

“I’m gonna take care of that pharmacy. Then we’ll load up tall, dark, and broody. We’ll go home and get him all fixed up, you hear me?” He called your name quietly and crouched down when you just kept staring at Daryl. “He’s gonna be just fine. He’s got you lookin’ after him.” Your wet gaze fought to meet Abraham’s, finally succeeding even as your eyes danced and darted in a valiant attempt to maintain it.

The inhale trembled just as harshly as the exhale. “Okay. Okay, take our bags, too. You’ll need the extra space. I’ll, um—I’ll barricade the door after you go. Shave and a haircut when you come back?”

“Two bits.” He grinned, rising to his full height. Your fingers grazed over Daryl’s jaw as you stood, loath to leave him for even that meager amount of time. Abe checked outside the entrance, each way, and turned around to walk backwards as you started closing the door. “If I’m not back in five minutes, just wait longer.” You rolled your red-rimmed eyes and shut him out.

Searching the room with the flashlight lifted, you found a desk. It looked sturdy, heavy. You really weren’t even sure you could move it alone. Placing the flashlight on the floor, you pushed against the side, grunting and huffing between your sniffles and hiccups, but it was all for naught. The thing didn’t budge.

“Fuck.” Spinning, you pressed your back against it and used your legs, finally getting the damn thing to slide, albeit noisily. You couldn’t manage getting it firmly against the door, but nothing was getting by it and that’s what counted. Snatching up the light, you grabbed one of a stack of metal folding chairs and ran back to Daryl’s side. He hadn’t moved an inch, but his head was rolling back and forth against the concrete.

“Y/N—”

Longing to just sit next to him, you stood the flashlight on its end next to your feet and jammed the chair beneath the door handles. The dead weren’t coordinated or cognizant and could only open the door by accident but it was possible and you were taking no chances.

Back on your knees, you leaned over him, smoothing back his sweat-slick hair. “I’m here, love. I’m mad as hell but I’m here.” The heat radiating from him made your stomach churn. You pressed a palm to his cheek, his forehead, flipping your hand over to do the same.

“S’my fault. She’s dead—gone an’ s’on me.” He started to sit up, finding he couldn’t, either too weak or in too much pain. Daryl had a high tolerance for hurt, so it was likely the former.

“Ssh. Stay still.” His hand moved toward the exposed wound. You caught his wrist and brought his palm to your lips, kissing and lowering it back to the floor. “Nothing’s your fault.”

“You’re s’posed to say that cause ya love me.”

You laughed quietly. “Maybe, but I mean it. She wanted to go, Daryl.” Petting his hair in tender strokes, you watched his eyes struggle to remain open. They were only slits of bloodshot and blue as it was. There was a thud scrape thud outside.

“You’re pretty.” Daryl slurred, head turning to chase your touch when you pulled away to twist toward the alley door, blocked by several shelves and other junk. No coordinated knock, no light seeping inside. Walkers.

“That’s the fever talking.” Out of an unfortunate practiced habit, you checked his pulse, finding it thready, too fast.

“Nah. Always pretty. Even when I ain’t cookin’ from the inside out.” His eyes were closed, rolling beneath the lids.

“And you’re handsome. Even when you are cooking from the inside out.” You mused, tracing his jaw with a fingertip. The corner of his mouth ticked, as close to a smile as you were likely to get. “Abraham went to clear the pharmacy. Gonna get you all cleaned up. Head home. You’re gonna be in a bed for a while.”

“I like the bed.” You were wrong. Now, he was smirking, eyelids fluttering. “‘Specially when you’re in it too.” His hand left the cold floor and landed lightly on your right hip, fingers weakly flexing. “Could take advantage’a me right now.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed in earnest, “now I know it’s the fever talking.” It was a true statement. Daryl almost never initiated physical intimacy, but he also never turned you down when you craved it.

When your relationship entered into sexual territory, you thought he was only doing it because he wanted you to be happy, guilt had consumed you. As if his Y/N sense had tingled, he had reassured you, promised that he wanted it too but just didn’t know how to show it, how to come to you with his own needs. He was a patient and gentle lover, contrary to his rough and rugged exterior. He was comfortable showing you that side, that affection, behind closed doors. That’s all you could ever ask for, ever would ask for.

“Wanna kiss ya.” His hand carved a trail up your side, fingertips grazing your breast but not lingering. His hot palm settled on the side of your neck. “I love ya. Gimme a kiss.”

Smiling brightly at this vulnerability and feverish show of true emotion, feelings that would never receive a voice— even with you—you leaned down and brushed your lips over his. His mouth trembled as he began to shiver, chills setting in from his body fighting the infection, fever burning unchecked. “Easy, tiger.” You cooed against his mouth. “I love you too. You stay in bed when we get back and I’ll give you whatever you want, but for now, I just need you to rest for me, okay?”

“Whatever my girl wants, she gets.” He grinned, silly and lopsided, as you pulled away for a clear look at his face. Even in this state, you had not a single doubt that if Abe returned at that very moment, Daryl would morph into a scowling, grumpy asshat. Oh, how you were going to tease him later. He deserved it for hiding that injury from you.

Minutes ticked by, and it felt like hours. How long had Abraham been gone? Daryl was trying to roll over, attempting to curl in on himself, but you managed—with frighteningly little effort—to keep him on his back. When he groaned, arching his upper half with a hand trying to press against the wound, you caught his wrist again. “Ssh ssh ssh, leave it alone. I know it hurts but it’s infected enough as it is.” He didn’t appear to have any walker blood on his hands from what you could see with the dim flashlight beam but you’d take no chances.

“M’sorry I lied to ya.” Now he just sounded miserable, your heart clenching and aching despite your frustration.

“I know you are. You can make it up to me later. Right now, I just need you to rest and hang on, okay?” Your fingers carded through his hair, catching on tangles and snarls. You’d help him wash it later, give him the sweet attention he so desperately needed while hurting so deeply, physically and emotionally.

He went quiet after that, still trying to reposition, whimpering when you wouldn’t allow it.

“I know, baby.” His pain so bare, ailing from the infection, you could hardly find it within you to be angry with him. He had punished himself enough. He didn’t need the weight of your irritation on top of it. You would need to talk to him, but you’d have to hold back, douse that flicker of anger that he didn’t allow you to help him carry the emotions that were weighing on him so heavily.

Knock knock, na-knock knock.

“Abe.” You whispered, beginning to rise to your feet when you felt a weak tug at the bottom hem of your shirt. Daryl’s eyes were wide and unfocused, the pretty blue dull from fever.

“Don’t go.”

With a sorrowful look of apology, you worked his fingers loose, lifting his hand to your mouth to kiss his knuckles. “It’s okay. I’ll be right back. Not even leaving this room.” He didn’t respond, but allowed you to lower his hand back onto the floor. Standing, you quickly crossed the distance to the door, placed your back against the desk to slide it away. You barely achieved it, feeling wrung out from Daryl’s openness under the influence of his feverish state.

“We hit the jackpot.” The redheaded man held up two bags, the contents nearly spilling out. The one on his back was equally as full.

“Did you see fever reducers? Tylenol? Ibuprofen? Aspirin?” You grabbed the side of the bag closest to you, nearly tipping it too far in your haste. Abe was talking behind you, reblocking the door while you walked back to Daryl, your hand sifting through the bag. Come on. You weren’t looking while you walked, your body on autopilot while your mind concentrated on getting your boyfriend what he needed. When you could see a yellow label toward the bottom, just barely visible beneath the tubings, fluids, and other pills, you nearly shouted in relief. Bayer Genuine Aspirin. “Thank god. Abe, your canteen.”

You were already opening the bottle, punching through the seal. “Here.” Abraham tapped the container against your shoulder. With two tablets already in your hand, you took hold of the canteen and motioned for him to unscrew the lid.

“Thanks.” In the moments of your absence, Daryl had finally succeeded in turning onto his side, legs drawn up, body quaking. “Daryl.” There was no room on his opposite side. He was too close to the doors. “Daryl, I need you to take some meds for me.” The only reply was a groan while he pulled his knees closer to his chest only to jerk them away with a choked off shout, the movement aggravating the wound. “Daryl.”

“Need me to, uh—” Abe waved a hand toward the whole of Daryl. You knew what he meant. Even as you nodded, you could already hear the grumbled complaints about you allowing him to be manhandled. “Okay, Prince Charming, just need to sit you up a little for these pills. Then we’ll get the fuck out of here.” He started with the left arm, sliding a hand beneath it to roll the archer just enough to work his other hand underneath the opposite arm. “Upsy daisy.” Abraham moved slowly, his eyes telling a tale of worry when Daryl grimaced and groaned. “He’s hotter than a jalapeno’s ass.” His voice was quiet but there was an urgency there. “Give him those pills and then we gotta go.”

He was right. If the fever continued to climb, there was the risk of febrile seizures. No one wanted that to happen. “Here, take these.” You pressed one of the pills to the archer’s bottom lip, a spasm of pain crossing his face.

“Ain’t takin’ your stupid pills.” Daryl snapped—damn near literally—jerking out of Abe’s hold just to fall back into it. You reeled back, just from the sudden movement, not out of fear. Never fear. Not with him.

“Daryl, stop.” You walked on your knees to get a little closer, trying again. “I need to get started on getting that fever down.” Chapped lips pulled away from teeth in a snarl, his hand coming up to slap yours. The tablets disappeared into the shadows. “Daryl, what the—”

“Said I ain’t takin’ your fuckin’ pills, Merle!”

Your breath stuttered, saucer eyes flitting up to Abraham and back down. “It’s Y/N, Daryl. Merle—Merle isn’t here.” The canteen was placed next to the bag of medical supplies, keeping a few feet of distance between that and Daryl, in case he lashed out again.

“Think I dunno s’goin’ on?” Your eyes slid up to Abraham as he lowered himself behind your archer, large hands relocating to grip Daryl’s biceps. “I take the drug’a the week an’ you steal the rent money to get more! Ain’t fuckin’ happenin’!”

“It’s just aspirin. And it’s just me and Abe here with you.” He tried to lean toward you, halted by the other man’s strong grip. He was too weak to do much about it. “Merle’s not here. Do you remember where he is?” You risked reaching toward him, fever-bright eyes tracking every movement right up until your palm rested on his shin.

His breathing picked up as he lowered his head. It hung forward with his hair acting as a protective curtain. “Dead.” He rasped. “Merle’s dead.” You would have asked Abraham to let him go but he’d likely topple over without the support.

“I’m sorry.” You squeezed his leg, tilting your head when his whole body tensed.

“I hitcha.” The tone of his voice was both incredulous and remorseful. “Y/N, m’so—”

“Mm mm. None of that. You’re hurt. You’re sick. You’re burning up.” There was a sound from behind the double doors. “Daryl.”

“I’ll take ‘em.”

You didn’t wait for him to change his mind. Shaking two more tablets from the bottle, you ducked your head to encourage him to look at you, the small white tablet was pressed against his bottom lip again. “Come on, love.” The second pill was behind your other three folded fingers. That left your other hand free to grab the canteen.

His lips parted just as the first walker scratched against the other side of the doors. With time quickly running out, you pressed the pill past his lips, following it up with the second. You rapidly opened the canteen and brought it to his mouth before he could attempt to dry swallow the meds, smiling approvingly when he tilted his chin upward to allow you to help him. That in itself spoke volumes about his current state.

“Let me just rinse the wound and put some gauze over it and we can go.” Another thump had both you and Abraham looking at each door. “Shit.”

“Shit’s right. I think we’re boxed in.” He was careful when easing Daryl back into a supine position, hovering to make sure you asked nothing else of him. “Take care of him. I’ll go take a look at how deep the shit we have to wade through is.”

“Okay.” You nodded, digging through the bags. If there was nothing else, the water from the canteen would have to do until you could get him back to Alexandria. The wound needed disinfecting horribly, but your options were limited. Your lip was becoming sore, indented from your teeth pressing into it while you searched. “Please, please, please.” When your hand wrapped around the bottle of rubbing alcohol, you could have sobbed. Daryl was barely holding on to consciousness when you turned to him, breaking the seal on the bottle cap. “This is gonna suck, baby.”

He didn’t answer. You didn’t really expect it of him. What you did expect was the almost violent reaction the moment the cold burn of the liquid washed over the wound. His eyes flew open with a scream that you were likely to hear in your nightmares. It was easy to catch his shoulder with one hand but keeping him there was another problem entirely. His hands scrambled toward his stomach, fingers clawed as if he could scrape out the lingering sting of the alcohol. Forced to sit the bottle aside, somehow carefully enough not to spill it, you caught his wrists, one and then the other, alternating back and forth to keep his hands away from the festering wound. The doors trembled with the renewed efforts of the dead following the noise.

“Daryl. Daryl, listen to me. I know it hurts but I just cleaned it. It’ll stop soon.” His head fell against your collarbone with an accompanying whimper that made your eyes burn with moisture. “It’ll stop soon.” He was at least cognizant enough to heed your instructions, his hands falling limply to the floor, only for his nails to scrape back and forth over the concrete. “I need to put a dressing over it, cover it until we get home.”

“We’re boxed in.” Abraham said before even rounding the work table that blocked your view of him. “We need to wait it out and hope they move on.”

Your head was shaking back and forth, chin bumping into Daryl’s temple. “We can’t wait. He needs help now.” You had, at some point, wrapped your arms around the shivering archer, rubbing his back as he panted against your neck.

“M’okay.” He whispered, likely not loud enough for Abe to hear.

“No, you’re not.” It wasn’t supposed to come out as authoritative as it did but it had the desired result.

“Okay. M’not.” Daryl agreed, rubbing his fiery forehead against your skin. “M’sorry.”

“Stop it. It’s done.” You let your tone soften. He didn’t need anymore weight on his shoulders. “We just need to get you outta here.”

“You could find a way out. Leave me here, come back for me.” He rasped. You weren’t even sure he was entirely grasping reality at that point. He couldn’t be if he thought that you would ever leave him behind.

“We’re not doing that.” Abe interjected before you could even summon a refusal. “We’ll find a way. Just hang tight, man.” With another glance toward the door you were perched in front of, he looked at you. “You too, buttercup.” With that, he stole the flashlight and began searching the room.

You turned your full attention to Daryl. You couldn’t see enough to cover the wound but maybe you could still fumble through it. Reaching into your bag, you dug through the newly acquired supplies to find the few things you had brought with you. He was moving against you but you thought nothing of it until you heard the distinct clink of his zippo. His hand was vibrating when the flame lit up the small area around you.

“Thank you.” A kiss was pressed against the crown of his head while you relieved him of the lighter and placed it on the floor. The shivering had worsened and you worried again about seizures just as you found the gauze and tape you had brought with you. The rolls were almost spent but you likely had enough to cover the wound at least. “Will you lie back for me?” Daryl nodded silently and let you guide him until he was on his back, body jerking as the cold of the floor seeped through his clothing to cool his feverish skin. His eyes were barely slits.

It was a quick process, the bandage taped down and his shirt buttoned up. Replacing the lid on the bottle of alcohol, you crawled up to sit above him, pulling his head onto your lap. He turned his face against your stomach and sighed as your fingers carded through his hair, massaging his scalp.

“You’ll be okay.” You have to be.

It had to be hours that had passed, Daryl’s skin cooling only to burn again. He was unconscious, restless and moving constantly; head tossing, fingers flexing, legs drawing up only to straighten. How could you have let him get this bad to begin with? You knew something was wrong and you told no one, thought you could deal with it on your own. He was your boyfriend, your person, and you allowed him to suffer.

“Found a air duct.”

You startled, causing Daryl to flinch but not wake. “What?” Abe shined the light above your head, jerking it to have you looking up to a series of large ducts that likely led to other areas of the building, maybe ones that were not surrounded by the dead.

“We can crawl through, find an empty room. Go out a window or a door if there is one.”

The idea was sound except you weren’t sure Daryl could move on his own and dragging him would take longer than you were afraid you could afford. “What about Daryl? He can’t—”

“He’ll have to, or I could go. Bring back help, but those rotters are gonna take down those doors sure as my short and curlies match my head.”

I did not need to know that. Regardless, he was right. There was no other way. The doors beside you were trembling as hard as Daryl, soon to buckle under the weight and efforts of walkers seeking a meal. With a deep breath, you nodded.

“Wake him up.” Abraham ordered softly. “I’m gonna get one of these open.”

Another nod but he was already walking away. Looking down at Daryl, his face completely hidden against your belly, you stroked his cheek. “I need you to wake up.” He shifted and groaned, but didn’t rouse. “Daryl, baby, you’ve got to wake up. We have to get you out of here.”

“M’awake.” His voice was muffled against your flannel, syllables jarring with the shivers wracking his frame. “Where are we?” He took a deep breath while he turned his head, as if he had been suffocating himself against you.

“You don’t remember?” Worry churned in your gut, crawling up into your chest with a sickening grip on your heart.

“Can’t—can’t think.” His eyes struggled to open, face contorted in discomfort. He began trying to sit up, groaning and hissing through his teeth when you helped. His left arm wrapped around his middle as he looked around. “We—we went on a run.”

“Yeah, and we’re kinda trapped.” He snapped his head around to look at you, swaying slightly. “Dead at both doors. Abe found some grated ceiling ducts that run above. We’re gonna crawl through them and find a spot where we can get out.” You licked your lips and leaned toward him to catch his wandering attention. “Can you do it?”

“Ain’t got no choice.” Bracing his abdomen, he shifted to the side, slowly getting his knees beneath him. When you hastily stood, hands on his ribs, he said nothing against the assistance.

“Abe, you get one?” You called.

“Almost.” There was a loud clang. “Strike that. Got one.”

“On our way over.” Daryl was on his feet but still doubled over, trembling so intensely that you weren��t sure his legs would hold his weight. “Let me help.” It wasn’t a request. Firmly taking the wrist of the hand he had braced just above his knee, you pulled his arm over your shoulder. The fever was raging beneath his skin, boiling his blood into vapor. He needed the infirmary. Carol could start an IV. You could wipe him down with cold cloths. He could get antibiotics. The wound would need to stay open until the infection was under control. You could do none of those things until you got him back home. “A little further.” You encouraged, barely looking away from him to where Abe was walking toward you.

“We gotta get while the gettin’s good.” He pulled Daryl’s arm away from you, barely letting the archer’s feet touch the ground as he hauled him toward the duct. There was already a crate waiting to give you all enough height to reach.

“Abe,” you said as you studied the escape route, moving around to gather your bag onto your back and toss Daryl’s up and inside. “I need to go first. Then Daryl, then you.” Daryl was dazed, staring at you but seemingly seeing right through you. “I can scout for a door or window. Daryl behind me. If he struggles, I need you behind him so you can push him along.”

His eyes focusing, the archer squinted. “M’fine. Don’t need no pushin’.”

You stepped forward, his slouch against Abraham bringing him to perfect eye level. “If you say m’fine one more time, you won’t need to worry about walkers, Daryl Dixon.” With a huff, you side stepped them and climbed up on the crate, grabbing the edges and hoisting yourself up. “All I’ve heard is m’fine and ain’t nothin’ wrong for days and now you’re half dead and surrounded by walkers. I swear to god, I’m going to throttle you.” You rambled, not really even caring if he heard you.

Even if he didn’t, Abe did.

“Phew, man. I wouldn’t wanna be you when we get back.” He helped Daryl onto the crate, hands hovering to catch him as the archer began to pull himself up, his arms shaking violently with the effort. Abraham had to duck and let him use his shoulders and back to make it inside.

You crawled forward enough to make room for both men, turning on your side so you could look down to watch. Daryl made it onto his hands and knees, managing to crawl out of the way before he lowered himself gingerly, letting his forehead rest against the cool metal.

“Alright, girly! We’re all in! Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

You turned without a word, crawling forward. The ducting turned to the left and then the right, bringing you just above a herd, all trying to break through the double doors you had just left behind. Your movements were slow and careful, the drag of Daryl’s pack being nails-on-chalkboard loud. You didn’t want to attract attention and have them trying to follow the sound. It was fortunate that the combined groans and snarls concealed the movement above but Daryl was struggling.

You looked back, lifting your arm out of the way to get a clear view. He wasn’t crawling. He was on his belly, hooking his fingers into the holes of the grating below to pull himself forward, pushing with his legs as best he could. Abraham was just behind him, telling stories and jokes with a few words of encouragement in between. You needed to move faster, leave them a little behind so you could find a way out.

“He’s flagging, Y/N.” Abraham called out quietly after a few more minutes of crawling and dragging. You stopped again, and looked back. Daryl was barely pulling himself along, his sick and injured body just having no more of it.

“He’s right here.” The man in question groaned.

“Fuck. Daryl. Daryl, stop.” His body went limp with the exception of his heaving breaths, cheek against grating. “Rest. I’m going to find a way out and I’ll come back.” Abraham nodded from behind the archer, who merely turned his hand with a thumbs up. You left both bags and crawled with purpose, watching the areas below you for walkers, where you would slow down and minimize any sounds. Right, left, left. There were forks in the ductwork. You had to remember how to get back to where you had left the two men. Right, left, left. Your brain repeated as you headed straight. Looking below you, there was a well lit room. It was quiet aside from the distant groans blocked by a door.

Bingo.

You crawled until you found the opening, lifting the thick metal and turning it so you could drop it to the floor with a clang. You stayed still with bated breath. The door did not jar and the sounds remained distant. Lowering to be flat on your belly, you peeked out to get a full view. The room was empty; an office. A decaying body lay in the corner, jeans and a logoed t-shirt with a gun laying on their chest. Poor bastard. The door would lead out into the halls but there were windows. No shadows passed by in the few minutes you offered. When you felt dizzy from hanging upside down, you wiggled backward.

With three quick breaths you let yourself fall out and crash to the floor with a decent thud and a groaned ow. It took a moment to catch your breath, your back protesting as you levered yourself to your feet, quickly devising a strategy. The desk was just as heavy as the one in the warehouse area, sliding and catching on carpet this time rather than the smooth concrete. Somehow, you managed to get it in front of the door.

Climbing onto the desk, you winced at what was bound to be a painful disaster. Keeping your eyes on the edge of the duct, you walked to the far end of the structure. Daryl needs you. Daryl needs you. Daryl needs you. The running start was minuscule but it proved to be enough. While one hand slipped, one latched on and you were dangling from the vent. With nothing and no one beneath you, you had to grab hold with your other hand and pull yourself up.

“I knew I shouldn’t have faked cramps in PE class.” You grunted. The grates in the bottom of the duct made pulling yourself up a little easier once you could reach them. After what seemed like an eternity, you were finally inside and wasted not a single second, moving hastily, almost clumsily. Left. Right. Right.

“Daryl. Abe.” You breathed once they were in sight. Abraham, however, stared back at you with concern, stricken.

“Y/N, I didn’t know what to do.” You shook your head, clueless, and looked at Daryl. He was on his side, breathing in shallow pants. “Turned him on his side, that’s all—”

“Fuck.” Seizure. You crawled past the bags and brushed the hair away from Daryl’s face. The other man was talking, but you didn’t hear him anymore, feeling the inferno beneath the archer’s skin. “We gotta go. You push, I’ll pull.” With Abe’s help, you were able to maneuver the unconscious archer into his back.

You had a bag hanging from each shoulder, giving you even less room to shuffle properly, but you kept moving, tugging under Daryl’s arms while Abraham pushed upward using the sides of the archer’s knees. It was a long and grueling trek with you whispering to him all along the way.

“You’ll be okay.”

Just before you were set to pull him again, he groaned. “Y/N?”

“I’m here.” You let go and leaned over him. “I’m right here. Found a way. Just need to get you there.” He gave a noncommittal hum, blinking open tired eyes when a tear hit his cheek. You could have sworn it evaporated.

“Feel like shit.” He grumbled. Your hands hovered while he made slow work of turning himself over, rising onto his hands and knees.

“Look like it too, man.” Abe teased. Bless him for trying to lighten things up.

“Thanks.” Daryl mumbled, raising his head to meet your eyes. “We goin’ or not?” His entire frame shook.

You wanted to shove more aspirin at him, needed to, but letting him move on his own while he could would get you out of the ducts and closer to the car. “Uh, yeah—yeah, let’s go.” You were actually stuck crawling backwards but it wasn’t the worst thing. It gave you the opportunity to keep an eye on him. He seemed to be doing okay, moving slowly, clumsily, but doing so on his own. In the conscious back of your mind, running on autopilot, you kept up with the ducts. Right. Left. Left. “How’re you doing?”

“Peachy, sunshine. Just peachy.” There was no bite to the words, just exhaustion and pain. “How much further?” He was tiring again, movements becoming even more sluggish. If he stopped for a break, it was likely you and Abraham would be dragging him again.

“Not much.” You looked over your shoulder, backing around the last turn. “Almost there.” The duct began to grow brighter with the sunlight from the windows below through the missing grate. You looked back just in time to not fall out. “Okay, let me go take a look.” Daryl nodded, remaining on all fours even when his arms seemed barely able to take his weight.

You slid one bag at a time off your shoulder and out of the opening. Going out feet-first made it so much easier than the first time. You landed easily and pulled the bags with you toward the windows, checking outside and then listening against the door. You didn’t even hear the walkers from earlier. Maybe they had moved on to where the others were trying to break through.

“It’s clear!” You called up quietly. Before you could offer any insight, Daryl tumbled out of the vent and landed with thud and a sharp exhale. “Jesus, Daryl!” Grabbing beneath his arms, you helped him move out of the way for Abe to tumble out in a similar fashion. “You okay?” You tossed over your shoulder, propping Daryl against the wall to look him over.

“That was a bitch.”

You cracked a smile and nodded at the archer. “He’s fine.” Daryl snorted weakly. His head dropped back against the wall while you busied yourself with finding the aspirin and the canteen. “Here.” His eyes were barely open, reserves spent. “Come on, baby, work with me here. We still have to get you to the car but I need you to take these first.” Sucking in a breath, he raised his head and opened his mouth. He didn’t even try to take them on his own. This is so bad. You weren’t sure if he even knew what was going on, if he would remember anything after collapsing by the doors.

“Gonna need you to get the car, girly.”

“What?” You turned, almost spilling the water on Daryl. “Sorry.” You carried on with getting the pills onto his tongue and holding the container for him while he took two long swallows, turning his head away to let you know he was finished. Brushing back his sweaty hair, you leaned in to kiss his forehead and then joined Abe at the window. “I’m not leaving him.” You focused on where the three of you were in proximity to the car, ignoring the look the taller redhead gave you.

“Listen, I know that, to you, no one will ever be better at taking care of him than you,” when you shot him a look, he held up a hand, “but you’re faster and you can get the car to right there at the end of the alley, I can carry him out. You can’t.”

Crossing your arms, you twisted to look back at your boyfriend. He seemed to be caught somewhere between awake and asleep. His skin was pale in direct contrast to the fevered flush on his cheeks and chest. His eyelids were purplish, lips nearly colorless. You didn’t like it, but it was the most logical option.

“Alright.” You whispered, nodding as if responding to yourself. “Alright.” Turning, you dropped your arms and crouched down beside Daryl, digging through his pockets for the keys. “Daryl.” He hummed but didn’t move. “I’ll be right back, okay?” When you stroked a finger down the edge of his jaw, he leaned into the touch, scowling when it pulled away. “I love you.” You wanted to make sure he knew, just in case; wanted him to hear it.

“Me too, sunshine.” He said breathily, face relaxing. You thought he had passed out but then he inhaled deeply and lifted his head, opening dull, unfocused eyes. “Where are we?” You didn’t answer. Keys acquired, you strode purposefully for the windows and opened the nearest one.

Halfway out, you fixed a warning look on Abraham. “Don’t let anything happen to him.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout him. Just worry ‘bout me if he comes to his senses again and you’re not here. Go on, now.”

There was no way you couldn’t smile—because it was true. It didn’t matter what was happening to Daryl, if you were missing, he was razing everything in his path to find out why and where. He might not actually speak the words I love you but he would show you constantly. You were just fine with that. You didn’t need verbal declarations from a man that had literally almost died for you several times over and then shrugged it off like it was no big deal.

It had been one of those moments that you had bit the bullet, so to speak, and flung yourself into his arms, kissing him breathless. He had turned several shades of red afterward but then things began to change. He was more open with you, wanted to be around you, wanted you to be around him. And then there you were, several months later, and he was yours. You weren’t sure he knew the name of a single woman in Alexandria that wasn’t in your group. He didn’t give any of them a second glance, regardless of how they swooned over him.

Then your thoughts turned to Denise. She hadn’t really been one of your group, not in the beginning but her love for Tara and tenderness toward all of you had integrated her into the circle of survivors you called family. She had always been kind to Daryl. Making sure he ate and had vitamins—even if he said it looked like shit. She wasn’t afraid of him like so many others had been.

It was why he was taking her loss just as hard as Tara was.

Your feet touched asphalt outside the window without a sound, something you had picked up from Daryl. Creeping forward, close to the wall, you leaned around the corner toward the parking lot at the same time as pulling one of your knives from the thigh-sheath. The car was within sight. A quick run over and you’d pull it around. You’d have Daryl home and hooked up to an IV before nightfall. Staying low, you continued to stick close to the outside of the buildings. You would only put yourself out in the open when you needed to make the last sprint. Unfortunately for you, you weren’t paying enough attention to the wall you were sliding against.

The open door caught you by surprise, the walker that stumbled out of it, even more so. “Shit!” The old man barrelled into your side, knocking you into a concrete beam and down to the ground, the side of your face dragging over the rough asphalt while your knife went careening. Using your knee, you kept the body held off of you, one hand smacking away the cold, slimy fingers trying to dig into your skin. Your other hand fumbled for your second knife. Abandoning that endeavor, you concentrated on getting the damn corpse off of you.

With a swift movement, you grabbed the tattered jacket the body still wore and pulled sideways, using the momentum to swing yourself on top of the walker. Obtaining the upper hand, you were able to snatch your knife and drive it through the eye socket with a disgusting squelch. You sat straddled over the body for a moment, catching your breath. The right side of your face burned, the thick coppery scent of blood in the air.

“Asshole.” You pulled the knife free and stabbed it one more time just for pissing you off. With no other immediate threats, you took the chance to snatch up your other knife and resheath it before your boots pounded the pavement all the way to the car. From over the top, you could see the split up sections of the herd wandering the different alleys next to the building. None of them seemed to be heading to where you had come from, but sometimes they were sneaky bastards and you didn’t know until they were on top of you. Glaring daggers at the body you had left on the pavement, you mumbled “case in point.”

Behind the driver's seat, you started the engine and immediately moved toward the alleyway you had exited, throwing the shifter into park. You heard him before you could even get out of the car.

“The fuck ya let ‘er go out alone?!”

“Calm down, amigo. She’s just gonna get the car and bring—”

“Why didn’t you go get the car?!”

“Someone’s gonna need to carry you when you end up eatin’ shit cause you won’t calm the hell down!”

“M’goin’ to get ‘er.”

“I promised her I wouldn't let anything happen to you.”

“Don’t make promises ya can’t keep. Y’should know there ain’t many ya can anymore.” His voice had quietened but you could hear him moving as you got closer. The window opened just as you stepped below it. Grabbing the pane, Daryl started to haul himself out but stopped with a startled shit! and nearly fell back inside. “Don’t fuckin’ do that!” He hissed.

“Was it your turn to ring the dinner bell, loudmouth?” You grinned, only for it to widen when he flipped you off. “Abe! Toss out the bags. I’ll load them while you help him.”

“Ain’t needin’ no help.” Daryl argued, hand pressed against the side of his stomach while he struggled to climb out the window. Abraham was shaking his head fondly and tossing you the bags through the second window. You juggled all three bags at the same time, throwing them into the trunk. A group of two dozen or saw walkers had ventured out of the alley near the body of the one you’d encountered.

“Shit.” You made it back just as Daryl’s boots hit the ground. He staggered sideways and bumped into the opposite wall, panting as if he’d run a marathon. “Idiot, you should have let him help.”

“I got it. M’good.” He straightened and put his hands on his hips then crossed them on the top of his head, trying to catch his breath.

“Baby, you don’t look good.” He didn’t flinch away when you reached for him. It was likely because he had been avoiding your touch to hide the fever, but that cat was long out of the bag. He simply looked miserable, lowering his head when your palm rested against his cheek. “Come on, walkers headed this way.”

Only then did he seem to notice the blood on your face. “What happened?” His overly warm fingers gripped your chin and turned your head while his other hand slapped flat against the wall to keep him upright.

“I’ll tell you on the way.” Smiling gently, you turned toward the car, catching the concerned look that came over Abraham’s face.

“I don’t—well, shit!” He bolted past you and caught Daryl under the arms before he could hit the ground. “Open the door, get in the back and help me get him in.” You didn’t need to be told twice. With the back door open, you watched Abe scoop up the archer in a bridal carry that you’d have to remind the man not to tease Daryl about later. With a nervous glance through the back window, you whined at the closing distance between the walkers and the car.

“Come on, come on.” Abe angled Daryl toward you so you could grab beneath his arms and pull him in with a little help from the other man. He arranged the archer’s legs to hang off the seat while his head was on your lap. The walkers were touching the back of the car by the time Abraham closed the driver’s side door. He said nothing but held a peace sign out the window as the herd grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Finally able to breathe, you kissed Daryl’s forehead and smoothed back his hair. “We’ll be home soon. You’re gonna be okay.”

You were sitting by the window in your room, drinking a hot cup of tea Carol had brought for you after the initial chaos of getting Daryl stable and settled had fizzled out.

There had been two seizures on the way back to Alexandria, his pulse hammering beneath the fire of his skin. Between you and Carol with Rick and Michonne grabbing anything that was needed, an IV was started, Daryl was stripped down and covered with a thin sheet, the wound was debrided, and you had cleaned his skin with cool cloths until the tea was ready.

Carol had gone to do inventory with what hadn’t been used or wouldn’t likely be needed in his recovery, leaving you alone with your archer. Your head fell back against the chair and rolled toward where Daryl lay. The sheet was just above his hip bones, letting air get to the freshly cleaned wound until the inflammation was down enough to be stitched—if it could be at all. His color was a little better, improved after only an hour of fluids.

He groaned, heading lulling toward you, a spasm of pain fluttering over his features before he relaxed again. Abandoning the mug on the window sill, you dragged your exhausted body to sit on the edge of the mattress and wrung out the cloth over the bowl next to the bed. The fever was still present but likely to improve now that he was resting and receiving antibiotics, the fluids keeping him hydrated against what the heat stole from him.

He groaned again, eyelids fluttering but not opening. “Ssh.” You hushed, wiping down his face and neck. “We’re home. We’re safe.” He remained still, but you continued to soothe him. “I’m here, baby.”

He didn’t stir again until deep in the night, eyes blinking open to find you sitting in a chair next to the bed, thumb stroking the top of his hand.

“Y/N.” He croaked, grimacing. Clearing his throat, he tried again with the same result.

“Let me get you some water.” You used your free hand to push against the chair arm but his fingers tightening their hold brought you to a halt. Brow drawing inward, you sat back down.

“M’fi—” He visibly choked down the words at your withering expression. “Yeah. Water, uh—uh, please.” He cleared his throat again and coughed. When his fingers loosened around your hand, you got up and went downstairs.

Carol came in the door while you filled the glass, walking past the kitchen before stepping backwards to peek her head in. “Hey.”

Tiredly, you returned the greeting, sitting the glass on the counter as she approached. With a gentleness that you needed, she rubbed circles on your back.

“Go easy on him.”

You tossed your head back with a sigh. “I know.” Leaning forward onto your elbows, you rubbed your hands over your face. “I’m just so angry with him, Carol. He could’ve died.” Her soft ministrations continued.

“You both need some rest. He needs to heal and you need to forgive him.”

With a smile that was hard to summon through your exhaustion, you picked up the glass and took her hand, squeezing it before letting go. “I already did.”

Your feet dragged with each step up the stairs, finding Daryl still awake when you entered the bedroom. “Can you sit up?”

“Think so.” His voice scraped across his vocal chords and he winced. His arms shook but you waited him out, letting him do it himself since he seemed to be fully aware.

“Here.” His hand trembled but he managed to drink on his own as well.

“Better?” You took the glass, sitting it on the bedside table. He responded with a quiet mhm and leaned forward so you could pile the pillows up behind him. “Daryl.” You could see the dread in his expression.

“M’sorry.” He picked at the skin around his thumbnail, looking down at his lap.

“I know. Daryl, look at me.” You caught his wrist as his thumb was in route to his mouth. Swallowing hard, he looked the other way entirely. “Baby, look at me.” The flush that was already present on his face grew darker, but he finally acquiesced to your request. “I’m not mad at you, but you scared me.”

“I know.”

You leaned toward him and brushed back his hair. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. I know what happened, it—it hurt, but Daryl, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Why ain’t it, Y/N? Shouldn’a took her out there. Shouldn’a—” His voice cracked.

“It was her choice to go. She wanted to go.” Your hand left his hair to rest against his cheek. He absently leaned into the touch but didn’t move when you saw the realization flitter across his face. “You took a bullet to try and stop them. You did all you could.”

“Wasn’t enough.” He whispered, turning his head away from your palm. You felt anger rising up, itching to crawl out of your throat in the form of harsh words. The silence was deafening, the tension smothering. With a deep breath into your nose and out of your mouth, you remembered what you had told yourself.

“You don’t have to carry this alone. I know—I know what you do to—what you allow yourself to go through feels like a penance, but if you’d just let me, I can carry some of that weight.” He chewed his bottom lip, shifting slightly until he winced, his hand almost covering the open wound before he caught himself. “That’s what friends do, Daryl.” When he lowered his head, you ducked to hold his gaze. “It’s what couples do.”

When he released his lip, red and indented from the press of his teeth, his chin wobbled, nose twitching and eyes squinting against the tears that threatened to fall. “Ain’t—” he swallowed and sniffed, turning his head even further from you. “Ain’t yours to carry.”

You didn’t hesitate. “If it weighs on you, then it weighs on me. Let me help you. Let me be there.” Standing, you took the two small steps that brought you to where he sat, your fingers tenderly stroking his cheek before you gripped his chin and willed him to look at you. “Let me love you right.”

You had only seen Daryl cry twice; when he lost Merle and after the self inflicted burns when Beth was taken too soon. He hadn’t yet cried for Denise or for Tara. You weren’t sure he ever would.

Then the dam broke.

It started as a shaky breath, a whimper, but then his head dropped, his shoulders jerking with each sob. You said nothing while walking away, placing a hand on the knob to close the door. Carol was in the hallway, a towel on her arm, heading to shower, when she caught your eye. Her smile was sad, tight-lipped but she nodded. You returned the gesture and closed the door.

Daryl had drawn up his right knee, his elbow pressed into it so his hand was over his face. There wasn’t much room on the side he was occupying, so you lifted the tubing for his IV and crawled up to sit on the other side, pulling him against you without protest, his face against your collarbone.

“It’s okay. It's just us.” You whispered into his hair. “It’s just you and me and I’ve got you.” It was impossible to hold back your own tears, listening to him release all that pain, everything the wound only delayed. So you held him tight, weeping into his hair and letting him cry until his energy waned, his breaths evening out.

“M’gonna try.” He whispered suddenly, causing you to startle.

“Try?” You brushed his hair back and angled your head to see the side of his face.

“Try to—gonna try to letcha help.” He sniffled and nuzzled against your skin. “Letcha be there.”

“I’ll always be there. Promise.”

His arm wound around your middle and held tight. “Don’t make promises ya can’t keep.” You laid your cheek on the top of his head.

“I’m not, baby.” His head tilted back, forcing you to move, but your lips instantly pressed against his forehead. He looked so vulnerable, so tired, but yet so much lighter. “I’m not.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon whump #Spotify

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tiredfox64 · 2 days

Note

Are you comfortable with writing about the reader and Smoke are expecting a child and Smoke is freaking out since it's their first kid as reader goes into labor?

Calm Down! Everything Will Be Okay!

Prior notes: HOW MANY BABIES HAVE I WRITTEN ALREADY?!!!? Got me paranoid. I don’t claim this energy yet.

Pairing: Tomas x Pregnant! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: GIVE BIRTH

How exciting! Your first child with your wonderful husband. A sweet baby girl on the way just ready to melt your heart.

If only your husband Tomas could just relax.

He doesn’t have cold feet, thank goodness. He just wants everything to be perfect and for you and the baby to be safe. The thought of losing you scares him to death. Even though you have been keeping yourself in good health and the doctors said you were in perfect conditions he was still being cautious.

He is baby proofing everything and anything. He has a bunch of books on how to support a pregnancy wife and how to be a good father. He went over birthing plans before the first trimester ended. He wanted to be on top of everything after topping you.

Yes, you were nervous as well. You’re becoming a mother. That is a huge commitment. But you took what knowledge you have gained in life and tried your best to stay steady. Drink some raspberry leaf tea, hum to prevent throwing up, exercise and stretch a little to make labor easier, you have tricks and you will use them. If your mama was able to push you out, you can do the same with that baby girl in your belly. You’re a strong woman, you got this mama!

Your due date is soon and Tomas is about ready to scream.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You sit at the table with Harumi, enjoying your breakfast to the best of your abilities. She’s asking how you’ve been feeling and you tell her the same thing about how your back hurts and your feet are sore.

“Ugh, when is this baby gonna come?” You groaned.

Now, the baby will come now. You manifested it.

In that moment your water broke. You thought you had another accident but then you felt a cramp. No, wait, not a cramp, that’s a contraction. Oh lord that is not pleasant.

Harumi was about to run out but you didn’t want to be alone in that moment. She questioned how you will get help then. Then you started to scream,

“THE BABY IS COMING!”

That message went out and into the ears of the many members of the Shirai Ryu.

“The baby is coming!” Kuai Liang yelled

“The baby is coming!” Hanzo screeched

“Oh my baby is coming…” Tomas, did it click in yet?

“MY BABY IS COMING!” There it is.

Tomas sped towards the room you were in. He picked you up with ease and brought you to your bedroom. You were the one who wanted a home birth, this will be interesting.

Tomas is yelling at everybody. Get some towels, get the doctors, get some ice chips, by the elder gods his wife is in labor!

He’s yelling but you really just want him by your side right now. You kept doing your breathing practices to help with the contractions. But breathing won’t help with the feeling that hell itself is opening inside you. You call for him, begging him to come near.

“Oh my sweetest, it will be okay. Just breathe and I’ll make sure you are well taken care of. WHERE ARE THOSE ICE CH-“

You yanked Tomas by the collar of his uniform which cut off his scream. You appreciate everything he is doing but he can tone it down on the screaming.

“Listen, I know everything will be alright. Just please stay by my side. Don’t leave me at all. I really need your support.” You begged him.

Tomas was looking down at you. You are the love of his life and you are about to push out his child. You’re already sweating and panting. He can see that you need him and you need him to stay calm in this moment.

“Alright. I’ll stay here. I won’t move at all. You got this.” He kisses your hand.

You would have smile if it weren’t for the contraction that hit you like a son of a bitch. Better start cursing like a sailor because that will be the only pain relief you can afford right now.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You are so lucky. So very lucky that you were in labor for only an hour. This could have taken a whole day. But now you have a wonderful baby girl in your arms.

This was the most amazing sight to see for Tomas. Now he has two beautiful girls that he loves in his life. He is so grateful to see you well. You luckily didn’t need stitches down there. Just six weeks of rest and it will feel brand new down there.

“See Tomas, everything turned out fine. If you consider having a fussy girl to be fine.” You chuckled as you tried to calm down your somewhat grumpy baby.

“Yeah, everything is fine. Everything is perfect actually.” He kissed the top of your forehead before taking another look at the baby.

A combination of you and Tomas in a seven pound body. She’s gonna grow up with the best dad in the world. Tomas is imagining all he could do with her and how he’s gonna treat her like a princess.

Kuai Liang, Harumi, and Hanzo came in to congratulate both of you. Tomas entrusted Kuai Liang and Harumi to be your baby’s godparents which they were honored.

Tomas placed the baby in the crib so you can finally rest after that struggle. He starts brushing your hair away from your face before you all heard Hanzo say something.

“Oh she looks so weird.”

“WHAT!” Tomas tells again before running over to the baby’s crib. Kuai Liang and Harumi run as well. There’s nothing wrong with her.

“You’re looking at her upside down.” Kuai Liang said before grabbing Hanzo by the arm and pulling him to the front of the crib.

“Oh yeah you’re right that is a baby.” Hanzo thinks he’s an inspector now.

An exhausted sigh leaves everyone’s lips. That’s enough for the day. Get some rest, Tomas will take care of things while you are out.

After notes: I love that man. I love that man to death. I love maining that man. That man would be a good dad. I’ll make him a dad…BAYBLADE BAYBLADE LET IT RIP. Adiós!

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yanderes-galore · 2 days

Note

Could you make Yandere Platonic Splinter Vs Yandere Platonic Shredder (TMNT 2012)?

I can try, sure :) Did most of the personality from memory so this is like an overview with how they'd act.

Here's your two dads, lol.

Yandere! Platonic! Splinter vs Yandere! Platonic! Shredder

(TMNT 2012)

Pairing: Platonic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Attempted murder, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Forced (Shredder)/Dubious (Splinter) companionship.

Honestly, these two having a rivalry doesn't surprise me.

NEED I REMIND YOU THEY HAVE ALREADY FOUGHT OVER PEOPLE BEFORE?

For example, they fought for the same girl romantically.

Then later on they fight over Karai as a daughter.

I am not surprised if they both fought over you.

Maybe you're a ninja in training and manage to catch the eye of the two.

They may just see themselves as your teachers, but they could also see themselves as a fatherly figure in your life.

Although, they are very different in their approach.

Splinter already has a family so he's already very welcoming.

He treats you similarly to April in terms of training you alongside the turtles.

In fact you'd be lucky if you met him first.

The way you could meet Shredder is most likely through... kidnapping.

It would make more sense if he kidnapped you to get info on Splinter and the turtles.

Although it could've just been the wrong place, wrong time.

Either way, when you're there you manage to intrigue Shredder into sparing you.

Only to be taken back by Splinter and the turtles.

This could serve as your first meeting with Splinter too if you want, where you get involved with the family due to having nowhere else to go.

Both of them would want to train you if they felt an attachment with you.

Splinter is adamant on training you for self-defense.

While Shredder may do it to make you another pawn or weapon at first.

I can see their rivalry being... brutal.

It always has been brutal, even before you came into the picture.

Shredder already wants to kill Splinter.

Meanwhile Splinter has concerned himself with protecting his family.

When the two realize they both have a similar goal, it just gets worse.

Shredder wants to make you fully loyal to the Foot Clan so he can break Splinter.

Splinter focuses on having the turtles (and maybe April + Casey) protect you.

Splinter is much more caring, often showing affection and providing you shelter when you need it.

He just seems like a caring dad or mentor who wants to protect you.

Later on he seems to want to isolate you from your actual family... but right now he has Shredder to deal with.

Meanwhile Shredder is more cruel and intense.

He isn't really affectionate, just ask Karai.

Although he does care for you enough to show distress when others take you out of his sight.

Splinter would not usually kill to keep you in his care, not unless he was cornered.

Shredder on the other hand... would probably kill the entirety of New York if it meant you'd be his loyal apprentice.

As you can see... They are vastly different.

We've even seen them fight countless times in the shows, even times where Shredder brutally wounds Splinter.

Blood will be shed between them countless times before there is any conclusion.

The moment those two come together to fight, you can only hope whatever the outcome is will benefit you.

You no doubt are aware of the tension caused by your presence.

Yet even if you put yourself in isolation, one of them is going to find you.

I can see them both sending others to check in with you.

Shredder has countless soldiers and mutants.

Meanwhile Splinter has the turtles, April, and Casey.

I can also see you being thrown into a loop of constant kidnapping and rescuing... no matter who it is.

They try to convince you who is better, you end up tuning it out.

Frankly, you just want to go home... your REAL home.

While Splinter is more caring, he has his own issues with you being around others.

Shredder is straight up just volatile and cruel to those around you, yet strangely caring with you.

Even the best option here probably isn't healthy either.

You can only hope that some miracle saves you from this conflict.

The two have had tension for years between one another... one just waiting for the other to make a move...

With you thrown into the conflict, it's only a matter of time until things boil over and you're forced to see the fate that awaits you all.

#yandere teenage mutant ninja turtles #yandere tmnt #yandere splinter #yandere shredder #platonic shredder #yandere tmnt 2012

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lisbeth-kk · 17 hours

Text

May Prompts (13) Laugh

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 13)

Summary: Rosie gets a surprising gift from her parents. Later, she surprises her Papa by proposing an interesting experiment.

Thirteen Years Old

I’d wanted one for a long time, but for some reason I’d given up hope, so you can imagine my surprise, when I opened the box Papa handed me.

“But it’s not my birthday yet,” I protested more out of courtesy than actual refusal.

“You need it now, and your birthday is months away. Think of it as a gift in advance if you must,” Papa said impatiently.

That should’ve given it away, but I was so taken aback, and my brain cells probably weren’t at their brightest. The box was heavy and by the look in Papa’s eyes, it was clear that this wasn’t just a tiny thing, but something grand and important.

“Open it before Papa combusts,” Dad suggested with amusement.

Papa huffed and urged me to unwrap the damn box.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Dad asked when I’d peered into the now open box.

I had become mute, and apparently also adopted Papa’s way of reacting when something unexpected and sentimental was bestowed upon him - rapid blinking.

“Fine,” I whispered and finally looked up at my expectant and slightly worried parents.

I placed the box with utmost care on the table and fell into Dad’s waiting arms.

“You liked it then?” he inquired.

“Of course!” I exclaimed. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

I kissed his cheek and turned to Papa. His arms embraced me hard.

“Thank you, Papa. I should’ve realised, but I got distracted,” I murmured against his chest.

“You’re welcome, Bee. I’m glad you liked it. You’ll need it the next couple of weeks with that science project of yours, and after that…well, I’m sure we can find some use for it.”

The gift was of course my very own microscope. A professional one like Papa’s. I’d tried his numerous times but having my own meant that I didn’t have to wait for Papa to finish using his. The things I missed were a Bunsen burner, flasks, beakers, tongs and so on, but I gathered that I would be allowed to borrow what I needed under supervision. I was already equipped with safety goggles, gloves and a thick apron.

Papa had a whole lab set up down in 221C, which he used for his fouler smelling and toxic experiments. I knew I wasn’t allowed down there when one of them was ongoing, but hopefully I could persuade him to let me in if I was cunning enough.

***

In the weeks following my science project, I collected the items I wanted us to examine together. I had no idea if Papa already had studied this and made a spreadsheet like he usually did with things concerning the residents in 221 Baker Street. Truth be told, it was likely that he had, but I decided it was worth a try.

“I have a request,” I said after breakfast a rainy Saturday morning.

It would peak Papa’s interest if I used more adult language, instead of just blurting out: I want to do this and that.

“Pray tell.”

I had to try hard to keep my poker face intact when Papa’s eyes beamed at me from across the kitchen table.

“I know I’m not normally allowed downstairs, but I’ve noticed that there’s no ongoing experiments at the moment.”

I waited for Papa to respond, but he just narrowed his eyes and waved his hand, indicating that I should continue.

“Could we perform an experiment together?”

Dad cleared his throat.

“Nothing dangerous,” I hurried to assure him. “Just…come up to my room and see for yourselves.”

My courage was about to evaporate, but I straightened my shoulders and soldiered on. I added a please for good measure, and we all went upstairs.

I had placed everything on my desk. Zip bags with hair samples, threads from our clothes and fingernails, (alright, the latter was a bit disgusting, but at least it wasn’t toenails). In the petri dishes, I had collected our different shower gels, shampoos, conditioners and hair products. Sadly, Nana used hair spray, so there would be a gap in my spreadsheet.

“What do you think?” I asked expectantly. “We can compare…”

“Rosamund Watson-Holmes, you are brilliant!” Papa exclaimed, quite elated, laughing like a big child at this wonderful prospect.

“I guess, Christmas came early this year,” Dad added dryly. “Have fun, you mad scientists.”

He still shook his head fondly and I could hear him laugh quietly as Papa and I made our way down to 221C for a weekend of lab work.

Also available on AO3

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at @helloliriels

Other tags in the replies

#may prompts 2024 #may 13: laugh #sherlock fandom #rosie watson #sherlock #john watson #bbc sherlock #johnlock #sherlock fanfic #ao3 fanfic

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oliversrarebooks · 21 hours

Text

The Rare Bookseller Part 51: Oliver's Anticipation

Prev > Masterlist

tw: burns, mind control, body control

October 1925

Alexander's sire would be here at midnight sharp.

Oliver had woken up in his master's chambers, pitch black and smelling of woodsmoke and book bindings, with cold arms wrapped around him. For just a moment, it felt like a strange nightmare, until he remembered where he was.

Perhaps still a nightmare, but an increasingly familiar and strangely comforting one.

Warming his master's bed really hadn't been unpleasant, though. Oliver had enjoyed a truly restful sleep under Alexander's spell, and with all of his anxiety over the next evening's social call, it was just as well.

There was a sore spot on his chest, and when he reached for it, he found it was protected by a thick bandage. Where did that come from? His memories of the night before were so fuzzy. He remembered fretting by himself, Alexander coming home drunk... and Miss Lily was there too...

"Mmm." Without warning, his master stirred, and gripped Oliver tight to his chest. "Fitz..."

Oliver's chest clenched. "Um, it's me, sir. Oliver. Your thrall."

"Hm? Oh. Sorry. Yes. Don't know what I was thinking." Alexander's grasp mercifully loosened, and he rolled over on his back, freeing Oliver. "What are you doing here?"

"Um -- I think Miss Lily told me to -- warm your bed, sir? I confess I don't quite remember, but if I've broken any rule and you want me to leave, I'll leave right away, sir."

"No, no, no. You're fine. I don't quite remember either, but no doubt I wanted you to be here." He reached out and touched the bandage on Oliver's chest. "Oh, yes. That was why."

"What is it, sir?"

"...A mark. An unfortunate but necessary one."

"A mark, sir?" The wound on his chest throbbed.

"You can see when you take the bandage off. You'll need to clean it, too. We'll both need to get cleaned up before midnight," he said. "And you'll want to eat, as well. I can take care of my own preparations. It's better if he's distracted by my faults, anyway. Less attention for you. Anyway, you should go on."

Oliver looked around the inky black room, remembering what a mess Alexander's floor was. He wasn't even sure quite where the door was located.

"Is there something else, Oliver?"

"I can't see, sir."

"...Yes, of course. Wait a moment, I'll light a lamp."

Oliver could hear his master fumbling around in the dark.

"This one's out of oil, damn it. Hang on, I know there's another just... here."

The dim flame lit up the room just enough for Oliver to get his bearings. He was surprised at how reluctant he was to roll out of his master's bed. He could get used to this, and he'd probably need to, given how much his master seemed to appreciate his presence or at least his temperature.

Emerging back out into the drafty, cold manor brought Oliver back to his worries and fears, the ones he had spent the previous evening turning over and over, the one that his master's spell had taken away from him for a while. "...Master?" he said, impulsively poking his head back into the door, hoping he wasn't breaking any rule.

"Yes, what is it, Oliver?"

"...If it's not too much trouble, sir... could you help me to sleep again, at the end of tonight?"

"Of course I can," said Alexander, who sounded quite pleased. "It would be my pleasure, any time."

"Thank you, sir."

The thought of his master's spell of bliss helped calm Oliver's nerves enough to attend to his breakfast and hygiene, and to ignore the ticking of the clocks on the walls.

But he was still acutely aware of the fact that his master's sire would be here at midnight sharp.

Breakfast was a sombre affair, as Oliver found himself without much appetite, choking down a few slices of toast solely because he didn't want to face the night on an empty stomach. Hygiene was an equally somber affair, a short and joyless bath and shave. Oliver peeled off the bandage to find a round and painful scar, swollen and indistinct.

A burn? His master had burned him? Alexander had called it "unfortunate but necessary," and Oliver couldn't figure out what that would mean. He must have been very deeply under his master's spell to not remember a thing.

When he returned to his bedroom, there was a modest blue dress laid out for him on his bed. He donned it and looked at himself in the mirror, heart thumping in his chest.

His master's sire would be here at midnight sharp.

As soon as Oliver descended the staircase, he was met by Alexander, who looked more put together than he had at any other point Oliver had seen him. He was wearing a sharp suit and his mop of hair was neatly combed. Oliver couldn't help but wonder how had he groomed himself without the aid of a mirror or assistance -- but that was hardly the most pressing question on his mind.

"My sire will be here at midnight sharp," Alexander repeated the words stuck in Oliver's hand like a protective mantra. "Here, let me straighten your dress. You have a lock of hair out of place here, too."

Oliver let himself be fussed over. "Sir, can I ask about the mark on my chest?"

"My sire requires his thralls to be branded, and requires the same of me," Alexander explained. "I don't intend to be under his thumb forever, but for now, I must acquiesce to his rules." His face grew even more grim and sour. "That's why I must allow him to drink from you."

Branded. He'd been branded. That little voice buried deep within him wanted to protest about a permanent mark done without his permission, but it was easily overruled. After all, he was here to serve his master forever, wasn't he?

"I understand, sir," said Oliver, swallowing hard. Why was this so difficult for him? It was a service his master required, and Miss Lily had taught him that his primary purpose was to provide blood for vampires. But Alexander's unease made it impossible for his heart to calm.

"I would provide a spell to soothe you or prevent you from feeling pain, if I could, but he would detect it and make things worse for both of us. Unfortunately, I have to ask you to be obedient once more. Do not struggle against his control, do not lie, and do not disobey."

"Yes, sir," said Oliver, shivering as he recalled how it felt when his body moved on its own. "Sir, may I ask another question, one which is possibly impertinent?"

"Of course, Oliver, you have free permission to ask questions, as always. I just may not choose to answer."

"...Why is your sire so terrifying, sir?"

His master looked up at him in surprise, then let out a sharp laugh without mirth. "Straight to the point. An excellent question. One which has often kept me awake through the day." He sighed. "Well, he does have the power to puppet your body against your will on a whim. He can do that to me, as well -- since a sire always has power over their sired. But even that, terrifying as it is, is not the whole of it, is it?"

"No, sir, it isn't."

"He's a traditionalist, of course. He believes that humans only exist to serve vampires and should have no will of their own. But if that's all it were, he'd merely erase his thralls' minds, as some of my kind do," he said. "I've always thought that, despite his unparalleled power, he is simply... miserable."

"Miserable, sir?"

"Miserable and perhaps even lonely. He doesn't allow himself companions among vampires or humans. He only takes pleasure in cruelty. I could almost pity him, if he weren't the greatest threat to me and mine." Alexander once again reached over to fuss with Oliver's dress and hair. "I expect that's not a satisfactory answer, but it's the best I can provide to you."

"It's satisfactory enough, sir." An image flashed through Oliver's mind, one long buried. His father, stumbling in drunk once more, towering over him. He shook his head. No, it wouldn't do to think of that now. He had to be brave.

His master's sire would be here at midnight sharp, and all too soon, the chimes rang throughout the house. One, two...

And one beat after the twelfth chime, exactly in rhythm with the grandfather clock in the library, there were three knocks on the front door.

"You must answer the door, Oliver. I'll receive him in the music room."

His master disappeared before Oliver could respond, leaving his heart to thump out of its chest as he walked to the front door. As he opened it, he found himself frozen to the spot before he could even fully take in what he was seeing.

He caught a glimpse of the man from the ballet as he was forced into a low, uncomfortable curtsy. Alexander's sire was dressed much as he was then, all in black with a long silver ponytail, posture straight as an arrow.

"Good evening, sir," said Oliver, trying his best to keep himself relaxed and not fight against the bonds gripping his limbs. He had to be the perfect thrall, for both himself and Alexander's sake.

"Good evening," said that entrancing voice. If Alexander's voice was like gentle waves washing over his mind, the Maestro's voice was like a metronome, forcing Oliver's thoughts into an inflexible rhythm. "I trust your master is prepared for this social call?"

"Yes, sir, he will be receiving you in the music room."

"Very well. Follow." With a crisp snap, Oliver was marching behind him like a toy soldier at attention, his thoughts racing even as his body's movements were unnaturally precise.

He could do this. He could. He could make his master proud.

Prev > Masterlist

Thanks for reading! Next week, the conclusion to Oliver's evening.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump @tippytappytyping

#whump #whump writing #vampire #vampire whumper #mind control #alexander #oliver #maestro

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smilesrobotlover · 1 day

Text

First| <-previous next-> (coming soon)

AO3

Chapter 7- The Meeting

The letter from Link has been haunting Zelda since she’s read it. She had planned to meet with the resistance in two days, and even moved her schedule around for it, but Link was demanding to meet with them now. It seemed that they would be here tonight, but Zelda was struggling to make time to meet them.

During the many meetings, it was all she could think about. How she was going to get to Telma’s bar, how she was going to disguise herself as Sheik, what she was going to say to Edmund and Amber. She was probably going to miss supper for this, but it was fine, this was more important than supper. She just wished that it hadn’t happened so last minute.

Goddesses, why couldn’t they wait two more days?

She didn’t pay attention to any of the meetings, anxious to get them done and to leave to get to the next one. She’d nearly fallen asleep countless times, and Edmund would discreetly wake her back up so she wouldn’t humiliate herself—which she was grateful for. She really wasn’t fit for any of this queen business at the moment, but there was so much to do, such little time.

As soon as the current meeting ended, Zelda found herself sitting in her chair, staring blankly at the wall instead of rushing to get to lunch. This was her only break, and she didn’t have the energy to move. Edmund didn’t move either, and he spoke to the nobles and representatives for Zelda as she stared. Soon the room was empty, and the two were left alone.

“Zelda,” Edmund started softly.

“It’s fine, Edmund. I just need a moment.”

Edmund stared at her. “You weren’t at breakfast.”

“No I was not.”

“You’ve missed breakfast these past few days.”

“I have.”

“And you’re about to miss lunch.”

“That’s fine.”

“And you look like death.”

Zelda gave Edmund an annoyed look and he leaned forward. “Zelda, you’re killing yourself. Why don’t you tell me everything that’s happening? Why don’t you let me help?”

Zelda continued to stare silently, not in the mood to argue.

“Look, I’m worried about you. I do… care about you. We were good friends as kids, and those memories I can’t forget. I want you to be taken care of, is that so wrong?”

Zelda stayed silent.

“You’re exhausted and you’re hungry,” Edmund continued when she said nothing, “I don’t want to think about how dehydrated you are. Just, come to lunch, take a break, and take care of yourself.”

“I can’t take a break whenever I want, I have too much to do—“

“Oh my Labryn, Zelda, the nobles can wait! They can wait for you! You need to take care of yourself first!”

Zelda sighed and stood up. “I’m not in the mood for this right now, Edmund.”

“When will you be in the mood? When you’re on your deathbed? I’m not wanting to wait until then!”

The queen didn’t respond and went to walk away. It was childish to not say anything, but she was too tired to argue. Too tired to think of something to say. She was just… so tired…

She reached the door and leaned against the wall, holding her aching head. She suddenly felt lightheaded and sick to her stomach. She heard footsteps approach her from behind and she gave Edmund a glare.

“Zelda?”

She huffed and reached for the door, but black dots appeared in her vision, and she felt herself begin to stagger.

“Zelda!”

Her stomach did somersaults as she began to fall, and soon she was surrounded by darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was beginning to set as Rusl and Link arrived at castle town. They moved quickly through the field, and Link could tell Epona was enjoying the free movement. She had become just as stir-crazy as he did after his adventure, so when she had a chance to move around outside of Ordon, she clearly enjoyed herself. When they arrived, they quickly got off their horses and headed into the town, trying not to take up too much space with their large animals. Normally, Link would let Epona roam free in the field while he did his errands in town, but after what he’s found out, he decided against it. It took a while to get to the bar; surprisingly the town was busy despite the day coming to an end, and people were always blocking their way, causing the horses to grow upset with the small space. Rusl and Link finally were able to tie their horses to a post near Telma’s bar where less people were at, and they hopped down the stairs and entered it. The bar was relatively empty, save for a few patrons who were quietly drinking by themselves. As usual, the place was dark and was only lit up by torches and candles scattered throughout. In the back, Telma and Auru were chatting at the table they all normally sat at, and Telma’s face lit up when she saw the two men, quickly burying them both in a hug when they got close.

“Link! Rusl! It’s so good to see you two!” She exclaimed, giving their shoulders a firm pat when she pulled away. Link smiled politely and let her lead the two men to the back table, where Auru was smiling.

“I figured you’d both be here tonight,” Auru said, ruffling Rusl’s hair as he sat down. “So what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain everything after Ashei and Shad get here,” Rusl said simply, fixing his ruffled hair.

“Hm, we sure they’ll be here tonight? This was pretty last minute.” Auru asked, leaning forward to look at both Rusl and Link.

“I know, I know it’s inconvenient but… it’s important,” Rusl frowned as Telma set down a mug of ginger ale in front of him, which he began to pick at mindlessly. “Me and Link found what’s been causing these disappearances, there’s no need to waste time anymore.”

Auru raised his eyebrows and he nodded knowingly. “Well then, that is quite important.”

Link nodded, staring at the milk in front of him—neither him nor his father bothered to drink anything. It was silent for a moment until Rusl awkwardly cleared his throat, catching Link and Auru’s attention.

“Well, we’re lucky you’re here, we won’t have to wait for you. You’re a lot harder to get a hold of than the others,” Rusl stated with a smile, and Auru gave a hearty laugh.

“Oh, my boy, I haven’t left castle town in weeks.”

“Did Sheik send you a letter?”

“He did. He told me to ask around castle town to gather information. It’s the only thing I’m capable of doing now,” Auru leaned back in his chair and stretched slowly, a pained expression on his face. “I’m getting too old for all this action.”

Rusl frowned and went back to staring at his drink. Link studied his father’s face, but it remained blank. When he really wanted to be, he was a master at hiding his emotions. There was a moment of silence again, being interrupted by Telma coming by to bring food for the two men, and Link couldn’t help but cheer softly.

“Oh goddesses, thank you Telma,” he said, already digging in, “I’m starvin’.”

Telma laughed and patted his shoulder. “I figured you’d both be hungry from the journey!”

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that, Telma,” Rusl chuckled slightly, and Telma lightly punched his shoulder.

“Oh, you hush, it’s the least I can do for my friends! Now eat up while we wait for the lovebirds to arrive!”

Link stared at Telma as she walked away, and he turned to look at Auru. “Are Ashei and Shad—“

“Engaged.”

Link’s mouth dropped. “Engaged? When did this happen?”

“A couple of weeks ago.”

Rusl and Link both glanced at each other in shock. Link knew that there was something going on between them, but after ten years, he figured that it was nothing.

“How did you know about this?” Link asked.

“They announced it when they stopped by,” Auru explained, gesturing with his hands. “I hang around here most of the time so me and Telma got to hear about it.”

“It’s about time,” Rusl scoffed, a teasing smile on his lips. “Those two were drivin’ me crazy!”

“No kidding! It’s a little late though. I doubt Ashei would be able to have kids at her age.”

Rusl’s face scrunched up. “What are you talkin’ about? She’s barely thirty! And you’re a fool if you think that Ashei and Shad would even want kids.”

“Oh come now, they’re good with kids!”

Rusl gave Link a look and he snorted. They both knew that they were terrible with kids. They could keep them alive, but they couldn’t keep them from crying. Auru rolled his eyes and waved his hand away.

“I just think it’s a waste to get married and then not have kids.”

“That’s an old way of thinking, Auru,” Rusl said, finally taking a sip of his ginger ale. “Some people don’t need to have kids. It ain’t our business what they want to do anyways.”

Auru scoffed slightly, but he didn’t continue. Link continued to eat in silence, not realizing how sloppy he was being. He was ravenous. He felt Auru watching him and he looked up.

“What?”

“You’re eating like a growing teenage boy. When was the last time you ate?” Auru teased slightly, and Link scratched the back of his head.

“It’s… actually been less than two days,” he muttered, giving Rusl a look. Neither of them ate dinner before searching the woods. They spent the next day sleeping and then the whole day traveling. Auru’s eyes widened when Rusl and Link remained silent, both having guilty looks on their faces.

“Neither of you have eaten in two days?” He asked, shocked.

“Maybe a bit longer than that–” Link muttered, and Rusl jabbed at him lightly.

“It’s fine—“ Rusl quickly said, but Auru shook his head.

“Eat that food Telma gave you, boy!” He commanded in a stern tone. Rusl quickly turned to the food and started eating it, looking like a guilty kid. Link snorted slightly and his pa glared him down. Auru patted his back with a satisfied look and leaned back.

“Must’ve been a crazy few days. What did Sheik have you do?”

“He wanted us to investigate a missing woman and Goron from Kakariko,” Link answered since Rusl’s mouth was full of bread.

“Ah, so that’s how you found it.”

Link glanced at Rusl who went back to staring blankly at the food. Auru picked up on the mood change and frowned.

“What is it?”

“We’ll explain when Shad and Ashei get here,” Rusl said quietly. Auru looked between the two and frowned.

“Alright,” he said, a worried look on his face as he stared at Rusl. It grew silent at the table again and the old man glanced up, his face lighting up. “Speaking of…”

Link turned around and saw Ashei and Shad walking to the group. Ashei looked annoyed while Shad smiled at the group. Rusl turned as well and shot up from his seat, marching towards the two.

“Hey! You two jerks!” He shouted, pulling them both into a hug. “You can’t just get engaged and not tell me!”

“Well next time, be here when we visit!” Shad teased, hugging him back. Ashei smiled slightly and gave Link a nod as he walked up to the two.

“When’s the wedding?” Rusl asked, his hands on the two’s arms.

“Don’t know yet, we’re just playing it by ear,” Shad answered, looking at Ashei who nodded.

“We’re in no rush,” she added.

“Well, you better have me as your best man, alright?” Rusl said with a smirk.

“My dear Rusl, I wouldn’t have it any other way!” Shad laughed. He glanced at Link and walked towards him. “And how are you doing, old boy?”

Link chuckled and gave him a side hug. “I’m doin’ fine. I’m happy for y’all!”

“Oh thank you,” Shad glanced at Ashei who was chatting with Rusl, a happy expression on his face. “I wouldn’t have imagined being with her, but here we are.”

“Love is a fickle thing, isn’t it?”

“Indeed it is.”

Rusl and Ashei walked up to the two. “Let’s sit down and talk, yeah?” Ashei started, “I want to know why you both were so intent on meeting today.”

“We can’t, not without Sheik,” Rusl sighed, sitting down. “He’s not here yet.”

“This has been eating me up inside, and you’re saying I have to wait longer?” Shad said lightheartedly.

Ashei pulled Shad down in the seat next to hers and gave him a look. “Sheik may be busy, this was pretty last minute, yeah?”

“So I’ve been told,” Rusl grumbled. Auru patted him on the shoulder with a chuckle, and the group started to lightly poke fun at Rusl. Telma came by with food and drinks for the couple that arrived, and she closed the curtains to give them privacy.

“Tell me when you start talking about what happened,” she said, “I still have work to do, but I’ll be sure to kick everyone out.”

“Sure thing Telma,” Link said with a nod, and the curtains were fully closed, leaving the group isolated from the drunkards that came to the bar.

“So… what did Sheik have you two do?” Link asked the couple, and they glanced at each other.

“Sheik told us to help investigate the disappearances with a captain named Hoz,” Ashei answered. “We really weren’t finding anything of importance though.”

“Ah, did you come here with him?”

“No, he was quite intent on continuing the investigations,” Shad jumped in, pushing his glasses up his nose. “That was the most focused soldier of Hyrule I’ve ever met.”

“It’s good, Hyrule needs more men like him,” Ashei said, staring at her drink.

“Though he was sort of a pain to work with,” Shad mumbled.

Ashei snorted. “He was. Everything needed to go his way otherwise he would implode.”

“... Does Hyrule still need more men like him?” Auru asked cheekily, and Ashei glared at him.

“Yes.”

Shad laughed slightly and sat up straight. “Yes yes, he was still good to work with. I’m glad that some soldiers are still trying to do their jobs.”

Ashei gave a knowing nod and took a sip of her drink as the others mumbled in agreement. The group started to chat about mundane things, how they were doing, how the families were doing, and what they had planned afterwards. Link was constantly looking over his shoulder, expecting Sheik to suddenly appear (which he did every time they met up), yet there was no sign of him. Rusl was getting more anxious as the evening went on, constantly fidgeting with his hands or pacing the small room, pretending to be observing the wall. Soon it became too late–the bar was fully empty as Telma closed it down and kicked out angry drunks, and the only area lit up was the back room where the resistance sat. Yet no sign of Sheik, and Auru finally let out a loud sigh.

“I don’t think Sheik is coming.”

“We just need to be patient,” Ashei said, “she’s a busy person.”

Auru frowned. “‘She?’ You think Sheik’s a woman?”

Ashei’s eyes widened for a moment, but she quickly recovered. “W-well, Sheik is just a mysterious person, that’s all. I uh… say she could be a woman… or… something.”

The group stared at Ashei who stared hard at her drink.

“And what makes you think they’re a woman?” Auru pressed, a teasing smile on his lips.

“What makes you think they’re a man?” Ashei snapped back, getting angry. Auru raised his hands defensively.

“I’m just teasing you. You just never get flustered like that!”

Ashei glared at him and started cursing under her breath in frustration. Shad cleared his throat, wrapping an arm around her.

“Well, it doesn’t matter if Sheik is a man or a woman, what matters is that they’re not here right now.” He glanced up at Rusl who was still pacing back and forth near a corner. “We should start without them.”

Ashei sighed and nodded, a defeated look on her face. Auru nodded as well and stood up to drag Rusl back to the table. Link stared worriedly at his pa as he sat down, his face drained of all blood as he stared blankly at the table.

“Goddesses, are you alright?” Shad asked, and Rusl waved his concern away.

“‘M fine,” he mumbled. The group didn’t seem convinced by that answer, but they didn’t say anything else.

“Well, Link, Rusl,” Auru started, “tell us what happened. What is taking these missing people?”

Link glanced at Rusl who was still staring at the table, and he stood up, deciding to lead the conversation.

“Do you guys remember the shadow beasts?”

The group all froze, staring at Link with wide eyes.

“Shadow beasts? You mean those horrible black creatures that plagued all of Hyrule during the Twilight invasion?” Shad asked, and Link nodded.

“Yes, I… me and my pa found one in the woods… two nights ago,” Link frowned for a moment, that night feeling ages ago. He continued, “I think it’s a shadow beast that’s gotten stronger for the past ten years. It’s what’s been taking these people.”

“Oh… Labryn…” Ashei muttered under her breath.

“How do you know it’s the cause of all these disappearances?” Auru asked.

“We–uh—” Link glanced at Rusl who was still unmoving. “We sorta… found out the hard way…”

“Oh no… did someone–?” Shad started, but Link quickly stopped him.

“No, no it’s ok. I was able to stop the abduction but… I think it��s pretty obvious that this… mutated shadow beast is what’s causing all the disappearances.”

“Ok,” Ashei breathed out, “so it’s one of those shadow beasts, a little mutated, but we know what it is now. We should go out looking for it, yeah?”

Link pursed his lips. “Yes, but… be warned. I fought so many of those things by myself back then–”

“Yes you did! You were marvelous with the way you slashed them with your sword!” Shad exclaimed, swinging his arm around as if he had a weapon. Link smiled but it quickly went away.

“Yeah, well… I fought this one, and it didn’t die no matter what I did, so… I think we should be careful. We can’t underestimate this thing.”

The group nodded.

“Alright, well, thank you for telling us Link,” Auru said. “No one in Castle Town described anything like that.”

“No kidding,” Ashei replied and Link nodded glumly. This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let such a thing live, he couldn’t help but feel guilty over it.

“Well, it’s late, we can discuss plans tomorrow, but in the meantime, I think we should all get some rest,” Auru stared sternly at Rusl and Link, “you two especially. I can tell you need it.”

Link smiled slightly and Rusl got up quietly, leaving the room in an instant. The group stared in shock as he disappeared behind the curtain. Auru looked at Link and pointed at where Rusl left.

“Is he alright?”

“I… I don’t know…” Link looked down, debating on whether he should tell them the details of what happened, but he really didn’t want to, and he didn’t know if Rusl would want him to. “He’s probably just tired… the uh… the shadow beast was… aggressive to say the least. I’m gonna go talk to him real quick.”

He felt everyone’s eyes on him as he left, and he glanced at Telma who looked worried, but she forced a smile when she saw Link.

“Did you all start the conversation without me?”

“Oh— goddesses Telma I’m so sorry—“

Telma waved his apology away. “I’ll make the others tell me. Rusl went upstairs, sweet pea.”

Link nodded and slowly walked up the stairs, his entire body suddenly feeling heavy. He glanced around at the secret upstairs inn, trying to remember which one was normally reserved for him and Rusl. He poked his head in the first room, finding Rusl laying on one of the beds, his hands resting on his face. Rusl flinched when he sensed another person near him, but he quickly relaxed when it was Link.

“Spirits, Link,” he chuckled, lying back down. Link smiled and sat down on the other bed across from him.

“Pa… are you…?” He started, but he stopped when Rusl glanced at him. Rusl’s face didn’t hold any annoyance, but instead guilt. He sat up and sighed.

“I’m ok, Link. I’m… sorry for how I was acting down there… I just…” Rusl paused for a moment before sighing again, resting against the wall. Link tilted his head

“What?”

“Oh… it’s not your burden to bear.”

“Well… I kinda already know why you’re upset so… hiding it from me is a fruitless effort.”

Rusl grinned slightly. “I suppose so… I just…. Ever since that night I’ve been feeling so… terrified every waking moment—no—even when I’m trying to sleep I’m terrified, I just—“ he stopped himself and rubbed his face. “I don’t know.”

Link frowned. “I know the shadow beasts would turn people into other shadow beasts, maybe you’re still feeling the effects from that?”

Rusl shrugged, a disturbed look on his face.

“You… also were almost eaten,” Link chuckled darkly, “that would traumatize anyone.”

Rusl smirked slightly, but it quickly went away, so Link continued.

“I mean… I know I’ve nearly been eaten myself. So many times. By giant plants, and a giant eel, and wolfos trying to tear me to pieces, and spiders, and I guess smaller plants too, plus another giant spider, and possibly a lot of other things and—“

Rusl’s face had grown more concerned the longer Link rambled, and he quickly tried to recover.

“I-I mean, I turned out fine! Maybe? I mean maybe I haven’t turned out fine but—but it’s fine! I’ve kinda gotten used to it, everything trying to eat me. Heh, it makes me wonder if I taste good. I mean Midna will definitely say that I taste good but, you know—“

“Link, I don’t need to know this,” Rusl interrupted him, though he almost seemed amused. Link blushed slightly and scratched the back of his head.

“S-sorry, that kinda came out.”

Rusl chuckled slightly, which made Link feel a little better. He observed his father’s tired face and frowned.

“Pa… you should get some rest.”

Rusl raised an eyebrow. “Doting and worrying is supposed to be my job Link, not yours.”

“Well, who did I get it from?” Link rebutted, and Rusl laughed.

“Correction then: doting is a parent’s job.”

“But I am a parent.”

“Not my parent!”

Link snorted and Rusl joined him in his laughter. It felt good to laugh after these past few days. Link sniffed and sighed, staring at Rusl’s bed.

“You should get some rest though, Pa.”

“You should get some rest too, Link.”

Link pursed his lips and looked down, shifting uncomfortably.

“Not as much as you.”

Rusl raised an eyebrow. “How much sleep have you gotten in the past forty-eight hours?”

Link clamped his mouth shut. “I… um… like… four…. hours…?”

Rusl smirked and gestured for him to come over. Link sighed and trudged over to him, the lack of sleep catching up to him. He rested against Rusl’s side while he wrapped his arm around him, and Link finally relaxed. It always felt good to be held by one of his parents. Being an adult, it didn’t happen as often compared to when he was a kid. Rusl started playing with the tip of his ear and he lightly kissed his forehead.

“I’m proud of you, Link,” he said softly.

“For what?”

“For becoming the man you are today. You’re a good person, determined, and kind. And I’m proud of you for it.”

Link smiled slightly. “But you and ma raised me to be that way.”

“Oh, we were only trying to nudge you kids in the right direction. Ultimately, it was you who chose to become a good person. Give yourself more credit.”

Link sighed and drowsiness began to get the better of him.

“Thanks. I love you pa.”

Sleep began to take over him as he heard his pa say one last thing.

“I love you too, my son.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zelda awoke with a jolt. She was in her bed, her heavy dress was replaced with a lighter one, and her daughter was reading a book by her side. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, startling Amber.

“Mother! You’re awake!” She exclaimed, closing her book. “We were so worried!”

Zelda looked around the room, confused. How long has she been out?

“Father came to me and asked me to stay by your side! I hadn’t left once!” Amber continued. “I’ve just been reading this book about birds, I’m hoping to find one to match the birds Hylians used to ride, but so far none of them have been big enough…”

“Amber,” Zelda rubbed her eyes, still feeling exhausted. “Where’s your father?”

“He’s in meetings right now, he said he’ll come by to see if you’re awake!”

Zelda groaned and rubbed her face. What had been happening while she was out? She hated not being in control of everything.

“I hope you’re alright,” Amber added quietly, and Zelda glanced over at her. She had a worried look on her face, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m fine, thank you for watching over me,” Zelda said with a smile, and Amber beamed at the praise.

“I’m so glad mother! Do you want me to fetch you some supper? It’s a little late but—“

“Wait, how long have I been asleep?”

“Oh! Um… a few hours.”

Zelda tried to hide her frustration, and she turned away as she groaned. She didn’t have time for this. She still needed to meet with the resistance! If she didn’t leave now…

Amber gasped as Zelda started to get out of bed, ignoring the vertigo that assaulted her.

“Um… mother? Father told me to make sure you stayed in bed a-and—“

“I’ll be fine, Amber,” Zelda grumbled, but she knew she wouldn’t be. It didn’t matter though, she needed to be somewhere.

“But… father said…” Amber’s voice trailed off, and Zelda heard another person enter the room.

“Zelda,” Edmund’s voice called out, and she sighed. Great.

“Father!” Amber hopped up and ran to him. “Mother’s awake! Do you want me to get a meal for her?”

“No, I already sent a maid to do that, my dear. You go get yourself to bed.”

Amber nodded and looked back at Zelda. “Goodnight mother.”

Zelda smiled slightly. “Goodnight Amber.”

She lingered for a moment, her mouth agape, but she finally turned away and left the room. Edmund and Zelda remained silent, both staring intensely at each other. Finally, Edmund let out a huff and started to walk forward.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” he said, “I brought you something.”

Zelda frowned. “What is it?”

Edmund sat down on the bed with her and handed her a little box. She carefully opened it to reveal a chocolate orange. She blinked several times, wondering if the lack of sleep had finally caught up to her and that she was hallucinating it. But the smell hit her nostrils, and she lightly traced the chocolatey edges.

“I remember you loved these things as a kid,” Edmund muttered, a nostalgic smile on his face. “I always hated them, but I did enjoy eating one slice with you whenever you had them.”

Zelda couldn’t help but smile as she grabbed a slice of the chocolate. She glanced at Edmund and her smile dropped slightly.

“How do you know I still love these?” She asked, and Edmund took in a quiet, deep breath.

“Do you?”

Zelda looked down and put one in her mouth. The chocolate instantly melted as it hit her tongue, the sweet flavor mixing with the tanginess of the orange rewarding her taste buds, and she couldn’t help but close her eyes in satisfaction. She hasn’t had one of these in years.

“It seems you still like it,” Edmund chuckled. Zelda opened her eyes and turned away, embarrassed.

“Yes,” she mumbled. Edmund hummed and leaned back, resting on his hands.

“I’m glad.”

Zelda turned to look at him, his mustache lifted up with his smile. “Why’d you bring this to me?” She asked.

“Oh, I figured you’d need an energy boost. Chocolate does wonders for that,” Edmund reached for a slice. “May I?”

Zelda nodded and offered one to him. He took a slice and bit into half of it. His face scrunched up in disgust and he covered his mouth. “Eugh, I still don’t like it.”

Zelda smiled and almost let out a giggle. “That’s quite a shame, they’re so delightful.”

Edmund grinned and stared at the uneaten slice. “I probably should’ve put the full thing in my mouth, now what will I do with this?”

Zelda stared at it for a moment, and before she could even think, she plucked it out of his hand.

“Can’t let it go to waste,” she said before putting the rest of the slice in her mouth. Edmund looked surprised but his expression softened into a pleasant smile. Zelda looked away, her face flushing slightly, and she picked at the remaining chocolates. “Thank you for this Edmund, that was very thoughtful of you.”

Edmund nodded. “Of course. I… I just want to help out.”

It grew silent between the two—any feeling of contentment was gone in an instant. Edmund picked up on Zelda’s discomfort and he let out a sigh.

“Why won’t you accept my help?”

Zelda glanced up at him. Where an accusatory and bitter tone normally was, this time, there was just curiosity. He was trying, it was only fair that Zelda tried as well.

But could she trust him?

It was kind of him to try to help her, but was he trying to manipulate her into trusting him? She remembered her father always showering her mother with gifts whenever he did something to upset her. It was always a way to regain her trust. Was Edmund trying to do the same?

“Listen, becoming the king of Hyrule hasn’t been an easy transition for me,” Edmund started, his back turned to Zelda, “Labrynna gives its power to the king, but here in Hyrule, all of the power goes to the queen.” He let out a breath while Zelda remained silent. He’s never told her this before. “I admit I’ve felt…. Emasculated as a result, and I’ve been acting childish because of it. For that I am sorry.” He glanced back at Zelda, an almost worried expression on his face, but Zelda stayed quiet. “But, I feel useless. I feel like I’m being used for my connection to my family, and that I’m nothing more than an object to your people and… I suppose that’s why I’ve been… frustrated about you keeping things to yourself. But… looking at you now, I’ve grown more worried than upset. You’ve overworked yourself so much to the point that you collapsed. That’s not a good thing. I suppose I… I just want to know why you’re so intent on doing everything yourself, when I’m here to… help you.”

Zelda stared at him for a moment, his emerald green eyes never leaving hers. For once, Zelda couldn’t find her words. She knew she should try to communicate with him—he was being so open with her, but why? Was he trying to worm his way into her life? Or was he being genuine? He’s never taken the time to sit down and talk to her about things, but then again, Zelda never gave him the chance. Did he deserve her to try to be open as well? She turned away, emotions running rampant. She couldn’t cry, it wasn’t queenly to do so, but she was so tired. She took a deep breath to control herself.

“I… I don’t know if I can trust you,” she finally said softly. She felt Edmund shift beside her.

“Why?”

“I–I’ve watched my father strip my mother of all her power. He took everything away from her, ruled Hyrule as a tyrant, and took control of every aspect of my life. It doesn’t matter if Hyrule gives the power to the queen, the king can take over and I can’t let that happen again. It’s happened to me twice now and… I just… I–” She hiccuped slightly and she rubbed her exhausted eyes. It was quiet as she once again tried to take control of her emotions, and she glanced up at Edmund, who looked horrified.

“I had no idea,” he finally said. “I always– I know we didn’t see each other a lot but… I didn’t know…”

Zelda sniffed and sat up straight. “My father did a good job at hiding it. And he made sure I hid it as well.”

Edmund gave her a sad look. “I’m so sorry. I…” He grew silent for a moment. “... thank you for telling me. I’ll leave you be. A maid should come by with food for you.”

“I-I can’t stay I need to–”

“Zelda.” Edmund gave her a firm look. “I…I ask that you give yourself rest and proper nourishment, please.”

Zelda stared for a moment, remembering the resistance. “I can’t. I still need to meet up with—“ she stopped herself and Edmund raised an eyebrow.

“With… your friends that are taking care of the disappearances?”

Zelda pursed her lips. “Yes.”

“Perhaps I can meet with them in your stead.”

She shook her head quickly. “No I—“ they didn’t know that she was the queen; if Edmund came instead, they would figure it out, even if one already knew about it. And she certainly couldn’t tell Edmund about Sheik. Frustration was apparent on Edmund’s face, and he sucked in a sharp breath and stood up.

“So are you just going to keep pushing yourself until you die? Sure, you may not trust me, I understand that. But you have representatives, diplomats, nobles, even guards that could go in your stead! Why can’t you utilize them?”

“Edmund. I. Can’t. A-at least…” Zelda looked down, her eyes going back and forth between the chocolate orange, the bed, and Edmund. He did have a point; she couldn’t keep going on like this. She really could end up dying from her neglect, which would be an awful thing for Amber and for the resistance. But she knew no one could help the resistance with the disappearances. She had to take care of that herself. But… perhaps with everything else…. Goddesses, she hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. “Could you… just take care of the meetings tomorrow? I must deal with these disappearances on my own.”

Edmund’s expression softened and he nodded. “I’ll take care of them.”

Zelda smiled. “Thank you.”

“Will you… visit Amber before you leave anywhere?”

Her lips parted and she nodded. Edmund nodded back, and for the first time in years, there was a mutual understanding between them. Edmund hesitated for a moment before finally turning to leave. Zelda was left alone, and she contemplated everything that had just happened.

She collapsed after a meeting and slept through the entire day. Her daughter stayed by her side while Edmund took care of the rest of the day. He brought her chocolates and they had a conversation that didn’t result in them fighting. They opened up to each other… and now…

She sighed. She needed to meet with the resistance, that was her first priority. Hopefully it wasn’t too late.

She wasted no time to get into her disguise, despite her exhausted body and rumbling stomach. Just as she was about to sneak out, she remembered what Edmund asked of her.

“Will you… visit Amber before you leave anywhere?”

She sighed. She’s been a terrible mother to her own daughter, not spending any time with her despite Amber desperately wanting to. If the resistance needing to meet up tonight hadn’t been about the missing people, she probably would have been tempted to stay. Maybe spend time with her family, her daughter, and try to be the mother Amber deserved. But she knew this was important; it had better be important. She needed to take care of this, and she needed to find the missing people so that Hyrule would be safe for Amber. If the resistance found out important information about the disappearances—like where the missing people were—she would personally go to rescue them herself and eradicate any threat that came in her way. This threat would come to an end, Zelda would make sure of it.

But it meant she would be gone for a while. So she didn’t know when she would see Amber again.

Zelda quietly snuck into Amber’s room, her daughter curled up in her bed, clutching a bird stuffed animal to her chest. She brought her mask down and walked up to her daughter, emotions going through her once again. Her sweet little Amber, growing up before her very eyes, and she was missing all of it.

Her hand brushed against Amber’s temple and she began to stir. She looked up at her mother and furrowed her brow.

“Mother?”

Zelda’s breath hitched and she helped Amber sit up.

“Amber,” she started, “I know… I know I haven’t been the best mother, but I want you to know that I love you with every fiber of my being.” Zelda pulled Amber close and hugged her. “I love you so much.”

She rocked her back and forth, Amber clinging to her tightly. Despite her dry eyes, Zelda found tears forming, and she had to choke back a sob. Amber however wasn’t hiding her crying, and she felt her tears soaking into her clothes. She finally pulled back, wiping away a tear on Amber’s cheek and rested her forehead against hers.

“I promise I’ll try to be better,” Zelda whispered, pecking her on the forehead, and she stood up, walking towards the door.

“M-mother?” Amber called out.

“I’ll be back,” Zelda promised. “Just stay here with your father and focus on your studies. I… I love you.”

“I love you too…”

Zelda’s heart hurt more than her aching body as she turned away. How many times has she turned her own daughter away? How many times has she brushed her off when Amber reached out? She ran out, her frustrations over herself giving her the energy she needed to escape the castle. How will Amber view her when she grew older? Would she resent her the same way Zelda resented her father? Would she feel unloved by her own mother? She stopped as she reached the entrance to the courtyard, looking back at the castle. She was panting heavily, sad and angry tears finally pouring down her face.

It didn’t matter what her father tried to do to her, Zelda never felt worthy of being queen. She didn’t feel worthy of anything in her life. Especially her own daughter.

Amber deserved a better mother.

For a moment as she stared at her castle, she thought she saw Edmund watching her, but his supposed silhouette went away in an instant. She turned away, her head hanging, and finally marched to Telma’s bar.

It was late, she didn’t know how late it was, but it was late enough for no one to be out in the streets save for a few guards. Sheik’s stomach was cramping terribly, and her throat and tongue felt like sandpaper. She almost wished she stayed behind to eat the food Edmund got for her, but she knew she couldn’t let the resistance down. She leaned against a wall catching her breath, her hand rubbing against a box in her pouch. She didn’t know why she grabbed the chocolate orange Edmund gave her; she supposed she couldn’t leave it behind. She continued onward to Telma’s bar, feeling that it was a much longer walk than what she remembered. She normally went through the dungeons to reach Telma’s bar, but from how she was feeling, she didn’t have the strength to go that way. As if to prove her right, her knees nearly buckled as she went down the stairs, causing her to stumble into the door. She pulled back and blinked harshly trying to clear her head. She took a deep breath to calm herself and she went inside. The bell rang loudly through the empty bar, announcing her presence.

“Sorry, we’re closed right now,” she heard Telma call out from the back. The barmaid poked her head from the curtains and her face lit up. “Sheik! Well, it’s about time you got here, honey!”

Sheik awkwardly shuffled forward, allowing herself to be hugged by Telma.

“S-sorry I’m late,” she mumbled, not caring if Telma heard her or not.

“Oh… it’s not me you should apologize to. The others have already gone to bed, save for Ashei and Shad— well… actually it’s just Ashei,” Telma laughed slightly. Sheik was disappointed that the others had already gone to sleep, it was much later than what she hoped for, but she was slightly relieved that Ashei was the only one awake save for Telma. Though Sheik had tried to keep her Royal identity a secret, Ashei had found out about it. She had to admit, it was nice not having to hide everything from one person. She could at least confide in her with everything that has been happening.

“My, you look terrible,” Telma continued, eyeing Sheik worriedly. “Here, let me whip you up something real quick—“

“Oh, no you don’t have to do that—“ a loud grumble from her stomach interrupted her and Telma raised an eyebrow. Sheik looked down, embarrassed. “Apologies.”

“You’re alright sweetheart, just head to the back and I’ll get you some soup.”

Sheik nodded and walked to the back where she saw Ashei and Shad sitting next to each other. Shad was asleep, his head against Ashei’s shoulder, while Ashei had her arm wrapped around him. She had a pleasant smile on her lips as she watched him, until she looked up, spotting Sheik.

“Are you going to sit down, or are you going to keep watching us like a creep?” She asked, and Sheik straightened.

“A-apologies… I didn’t mean to stare.”

“Don’t worry about it, yeah?” Ashei glanced at Shad, then back at her. “I wanted to stay up to wait for you. I knew you’d get here eventually. He was intent on staying up with me, but I guess he couldn’t do it.”

Sheik smiled despite Ashei not being able to see it. “I’m sorry I came so late.”

“You’re fine, but what happened? Why did it take so long for you to get here?”

“I…” Sheik didn’t want to talk about her fainting today, nor about her lack of sleep, food, and water. “I’ve just been very busy.”

Ashei studied her for a moment. “Are you alright?”

Sheik looked up at her, and simply shook her head. “I’ve been very busy,” she repeated.

“Labryn… Zel—Sheik, you can leave this to the rest of us. You don’t have to help us every second, yeah?”

“I know, but I’m tired of sitting here not knowing what’s going on. Not actively trying to better my kingdom.”

Ashei shook her head. “You can’t do everything by yourself. That’s why the resistance is here, to help Hyrule.”

“I know… I know… I just…” Sheik sighed. Goddesses she was exhausted. The two grew silent until Telma came in with a bowl.

“I could only make some broth, I hope that’s ok, sweet pea.”

Sheik felt herself beginning to drool and she gratefully took the bowl. “This is wonderful, thank you, Telma,” she said. Telma gave her a soft smile.

“Of course honey! That’s why I’m here, to take care of my friends.”

The word “friends” stuck with Sheik, and she looked down at the bowl, her emotions running rampant once again, though her eyes were finally too dry to cry again.

“Now, if you two will excuse me, I’m going to head to bed myself.” Telma turned to Ashei with a teasing smile. “Unless you need me to carry him to bed of course.”

Ashei gave her an annoyed smirk. “I can do that myself. Thank you though.”

The barmaid gave a hearty laugh. “Alright, good night you too. And Sheik? I have some water on the table for you. Take care.”

Sheik glanced at the cup on the table, her thirst becoming unbearable.

“Thank you,” she said again, and Telma turned away, leaving the two women alone. Sheik glanced around, eyeing Shad cautiously, and Ashei caught on.

“Don’t worry, he’s out like a light.”

“But what if he wakes up and sees me without my mask?”

“Then I’ll knock him back out, yeah?”

Sheik chuckled softly and pulled her mask down. Though it wasn’t filling, the broth was amazing, and the water made her feel much better than before. She sighed as she drank the broth, feeling relief run through her body as she finally got nutrients in her body. She glanced at Ashei who watched her worriedly, and she looked down.

“How was Hoz?” Sheik asked.

“Oh, he was fine. Quite determined to find the missing people. He’s a good man.”

Sheik smiled slightly. “Indeed, he is. What did Link and Rusl need?”

Ashei’s breath hitched. “They found what’s been causing these disappearances.”

Sheik gasped and nearly dropped her bowl. Though it was exactly what she had hoped for, she was still surprised that it actually happened. “What is it? What’s causing it?”

“Link thinks it’s a shadow beast.”

Dread instantly filled Sheik’s body. Memories of the beasts breaking through her castle and slaughtering the guards came in at once, and she clenched her fists. How…?

“We hope to make a plan to hunt and kill it, but according to Link, it’s gotten powerful over the past ten years, and it won’t die so easily.”

Sheik swallowed hard and nodded. “I see… any… any news on the people?”

Ashei shook her head sadly. “No, they only mentioned the beast I’m afraid.”

Sheik slumped slightly. If it was a shadow beast taking these people then… they probably weren’t alive anymore. She remembered watching Zant turn her guards into shadow beasts before her eyes, even those who weren’t personally cursed turned when beside them. Even her own parents turned into creatures of darkness…

Were the people dead? Or had they turned into shadow beasts, doomed to be mindless monsters until they’re put out of their misery? Sheik didn’t know. But if that were the case, wouldn’t they have known about the resurgence of shadow beasts? Either way, Sheik was having a hard time being hopeful about the fate of the missing people.

“We’re going to be doing a lot of planning tomorrow,” Ashei continued, “I don’t know when we’ll head out, but if you’re wanting to come with us, I suggest you get some rest, yeah?”

Sheik looked up at Ashei who had a firm expression on her face. Sheik had grown tired of everyone telling her to rest, but with the food and water in her system, she couldn’t fight back the sleepiness.

“Alright,” she mumbled before standing up, staring at her empty bowl confused.

“I can take care of that,” Ashei said, and Sheik set it down awkwardly. “We can talk more tomorrow, yeah?”

Sheik nodded and dragged herself up the stairs where several rooms were hidden. Her eyes were barely open as she tried to find a room to go in. She typically took the first room, so she opened the door and threw her head cover and mask off, closing the door behind her which left the room in total darkness. She stumbled over to the bed closest to her and fell asleep before her head could even hit the pillow.

#smiles writes #love at twilight #I miss Kori :(#dw he’ll be here probably in the next chapter #twilight princess #gosh I LOVE the resistance #they’re so fun #oh Zelda …#how much I love exploring your character that I made up #I should really put a summary so that people will see this and know what my fic is about #but I guess they could go to AO3 to see the summary #hm #hope you guys like it!!#Edmund is going to therapy #/hj #now it’s Zelda’s turn that poor woman #and poor Amber #AGH I poor everyone

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