bellzettifarism

[bellzettifarism]

Hi just putting this out there: I have free time and I know fellow Bellburry shippers are starved for content so my inbox is open if you guys want fics :D

[bellzettifarism]

The dripping sound was back.

Burryaga flinched as the repeated rhythm of falling water echoed throughout the cave he had been all but entombed in, trapped in a bubble of air beneath the watery grave of Starlight Beacon. Burryaga tugged at his fur anxiously, fingers rubbing over the patches of tender skin where he had tugged clumps of salt laden fur to create his talismans in the hopes that someone, anyone, would find them.

All but guaranteed to be a fools task, but one he undertook none the less. It was one of his only grasps on hope left.

Another series of rapid drips splashed onto the wet rocks, echoing even louder than before, closer to the explosions on Starlight that little droplets of water. Burryaga mewed in distress, gripping the fur of his arms as he hugged himself, rocking back and forth in an attempt to take any comfort he could. Everything felt suffocating.

Meditation was lonely, no longer the soothing practice that Master Nib had calmly guided him through when he was younger, her smiling face a soothing balm whenever the surrounding emotions of the galaxy became too much.

Now, she was gone, dust evaporated in the ruins of their space-faring home. Taken by the fear that stole the lives of so many others and left many more in pieces. Another drip, another tug, the hairs loosening under the strain. He was slowly going insane, that had to be it. Burryaga was going to die down here, haunted by the dust that was once his master’s corpse and the ever steady dripping of the surrounding ocean.

It was a quiet shattered by those droplets, and it made the loneliness more stark. It made Burryaga crave the things he initially found so uncomfortable, he wanted to be surrounded by the near overstimulating crowds of Starlight Beacon, but more importantly, he wanted the quiet of the Jedi Temple, where a simple brush of shields were enough and meant more than any unwanted touch and look.

He wanted Master Nib and her assuredness that grounded Burryaga in a sea of emotions. He wanted Bell and Ember and their steady love that created that bridge Burryaga had needed in the aftermath of Hetzal, where his senses were all but fried from the grief and terror felt by those who had been all but dammed by the Nihil.

But none of them were there. Master Nib was with the Force and Bell was presumably on Coruscant or lost to the stars, the possibility of his death in the chaos following the Medical Wards violent detachment too high, one Burryaga didn’t want to entertain.

The drips grew louder, insistent Burryaga couldn’t even escape into his own memories.

The charcoal smudged across the paper didn't look right.

Burryaga scowled and blended it a bit more, the outlines of what was meant to be his late Master's face contorting into something near unrecognisable.

With a frustrated growl Burry neatly snapped his sketchbook shut and promptly thrust it onto the coffee table, freezing when it slid off and onto the floor with a solid thud. It echoed in the quiet of the late night, ringing louder than it actually would be in Burryaga’s ears. Grimacing, Burryaga gently pulled the book back with the Force, carefully watching the corridor for any sign of life.

None.

Burryaga couldn’t help the shuddering sigh of relief that escaped his lips, slumping back onto the couch with a quiet groan. Logically, he knew he could just crawl back into bed with Bell, feel the other Jedi’s heartbeat through his sleep clothes and his soft breathing, but- he just, couldn’t. It felt selfish, to risk waking Bell up when the human barely got any proper rest most nights. He didn’t want to deprive Bell of that one small luxury.

Even if Bell would be upset with him about it.

That nightmare had been clinging to his mind for nearly an hour, forcing him from his and Bell’s bed and out into the common room, the bright light of Kashyyyk’s moon filtering in from the windows. The chirping of nocturnal birds singing had been grounding, if faint, so different to that underwater cave that Burryaga had felt calmed by it, enough to try and draw Master Nib again.

Evidently, he still wasn’t balanced enough.

Even the open plan of the lounge felt too small, too claustrophobic for Burryaga, and staring around at the odd stillness of the apartment, Burryaga couldn’t breathe. A breeze ruffled his fur, and Burryaga couldn’t stand the quiet.

With a huff, Burryaga stood and quietly strode over to the wrap around balcony, the sudden cold a shock in comparison to the warmth of his and Bell’s bed.

The wind was cool as it rustled Burryaga’s fur, flowing gently in the late night breeze. Burryaga leaned his weight heavily against the wooden railing of the balcony. The surrounding tree’s were dotted with lights, easily giving away his fellow Wookiee’s who were still awake, late into the night. It was comforting, in a round-about way. Reminding Burryaga that he wasn’t alone, and he could see that he wasn’t alone.

Absorbed in his thoughts, too busy staring out into the distance, Burryaga didn’t hear the sound of soft footfalls until they were right behind him, lithe fingers burying themselves into his fur and gently running along his sides to clasp over his stomach. Burryaga flinched, but couldn’t help but melt into the delicate grasp of the human behind him.

Bell’s nose nudged the knobs of his spine as Bell pressed along his back, nuzzling into the fur like a tired youngling.

“…Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Bell shrugged against him, and Burryaga could feel the heat from his body, still warm from sleep.

“You weren’t there.” Bell said simply, his voice a low croak, sleep still clinging to each syllable. “Nightmare?”

Bell’s voice was hushed in the late hour, softer and deeper with lingering sleep.

Burry brought one hand to clasp over Bell’s, feeling each delicate ligament and knuckle beneath his hand. “Something like that.”

Bell was a welcome sensation, his Force presense soft as it gently reached out to tangle with Burryaga’s, curious and worried. Something Burryaga had been hoping to avoid.

“Come back to bed Burry. It’s late and we do have a meeting with the council tomorrow.”

Burryaga closed his eyes and groaned softly. He’s forgotten about the meeting. Even on Kashyyyk, an ‘unofficial holiday’ following the mess Marchion Ro and Ghirra Starros had left behind. But they still had to check in with the council every other week.

(Burryaga was just grateful that none of them seemed to notice the large bite mark that peeked out from Bell’s collar. That wouldn’t be fun to explain. His fellow Wookiee’s knowing looks were already too much.)

Bell’s hand squeezed his own before gently slipping out from underneath, instead tugging on the limb with a gentle grip. Burryaga let himself be tugged away, trailing after Bell, letting his eyes linger on the bruises blooming along Bell’s shoulder, exposed from where Bell’s shirt had slipped from his shoulder.

(If Burryaga had been in a better mindset, he might’ve tugged Bell close and flush to his chest, and lost himself in the taste of Bell’s skin and the sensation of his touch.)

Not tonight though, all Burryaga wanted to do was hold him tight.

Their bedroom door opened, and that last little knot in his chest loosened completely. Bell let go, his eyes shining in the dim.

“After you.” He murmured.

The sheets were cool as Burryaga slipped back under them, Ember a soft glow in the corner of their bedroom. The bed beside him dipped slightly under Bell’s weight, the human not even arguing when Burryaga curled an arm around his waist and pulled him close, plastering him along his side.

Burryaga stared at the wooden ceiling above him, fingers absently trailing patterns along Bell’s hip as Bell settled on his side, his hand playing with Burryaga’s fur. A naked ankle hooked over Burryaga’s thigh as Bell exhaled softly, his head resting on Burryaga’s shoulder, the silk of his hair-wrap pleasant against his fur.

“Go to sleep Burry.”

Bell’s voice was a soft exhale, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks from where Burryaga could see them.

Bell shifted, soft lip pressing a feather-light kiss to the underside of his jaw before relaxing once more, a soft chuckle filling the air when Burryaga brought up the hand on his chest to press a kiss to the knuckles before placing the limb back on his chest.

Burry remained awake, long enough to feel Bell slump against him, awareness leaving and sleep taking root, his breathing soft and soothing in the dark. Sleep tugged his eyelids closed, and as the tug became stronger, all Burryaga could think was;

‘I wonder how opposed he would be to marrying me?’

[bellzettifarism]

Bell's hand hadn't changed.

Burryaga gently held the limb like it was made of glass, slack in his own hand. Shuddering, Burryaga began the repetitive motions of examining Bell's hand again, near obsessively checking for any sign of the grey ash spiderwebbing its way up Bell's wrist like he had seen back on Naboo.

It wasn't there.

With each turnover, every swipe of his fingers, Burryaga was only met with soft brown skin and the tiny burn scars that dotted Bell's skin. No ash and stone.

Healthy and alive.

“What're you looking for Burry?”

Burryaga jerked, head snapping up to where Bell had been previously been curled on the cot, unconscious with relaxants. He was met with half lidded eyes, the copper of Bell's irises shining like molten metal in the fluorescent lighting of the medbay. Bell's lashes were brushing his cheeks with every languid blink, and Burryaga briefly wanted to reach down and feel them for himself.

Burryaga chewed on his lip, taking in the curve of Bell's body under the blankets, curled on his side with his head pillowed on his right arm, bent to fit in the cot while his left arm had been coaxed to rest in Burryaga’s own lap. Relief and embarrassment warred in his chest; how was he supposed to explain that he’d been obsessively holding his Partner’s hand in case something happened? hat the effects of the Nameless would suddenly show up hours after an encounter? It sounded stupid, even in his own head.

Bell’s hand flexed in his grip, and Burry near let go, if only to make Bell more comfortable. Instead, Bells hand only gripped tightly, and Burryaga couldn’t bring himself to let go.

(Selfishly, he wanted to cling to Bell a little bit more.)

“Nothing, I think.” Burryaga replied quietly, cheeks warming under Bell’s gaze. “I thought I had seen something. Don’t worry about it.”

Bell’s low hum was unconvinced.

“I’m fine Burry. Nothing is going to happen the second you let go.”

‘But what if it does? What if I can’t protect you?’

The idea of Bell needing protection was laughable, Bell was more than capable of protecting himself, but…

Bell’s screams of terror from earlier, begging an invisible enemy to stop had been seared into his brain, and they still echoed in his mind like ghosts that wouldn’t leave. Bell’s brush with the Nameless had been horrifying to hear, more so than his own, so feeling Bell’s pulse had been his solution. Feeling warm skin and Bell’s forcibly calmed heartrate had been a soother while they waited to leave the OZ.

“You’re thinking about them again, aren’t you?”

Burryaga sighed at the question. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to keep his anxiety from Bell for long. One might’ve though that Bell himself had hyper-empathy. But only for Burryaga’s own state of mind.

The thought made his stomach flutter.

“Yeah.” Burryaga admitted quietly, his voice nothing more than a low growl.

And you. Always you.

“…You scared me out there.”

Burryaga couldn’t help the hitch in his breath following the quiet confession, so loud in the otherwise empty medbay.

“You sounded so scared and I could see the ash begin to spread on your wrist-”

Bell’s hand tightened in his own, and Burryaga had to take a deep breath, let his anxieties bleed back out into the Force. Bell’s breathing was still slow and even, and the covers shifted as Bell slowly began to rise.

Cooing in alarm, Burryaga gently grabbed Bell’s shoulder with his free hand as Bell sluggishly pushed himself up so he was sitting upright. The blankets pooled around his waist, and Burryaga had the sudden urge to tuck them back around Bell. He didn’t, but he wanted to.

(If he wanted to tuck Bell into bed back at the Temple and curl around him like a sentient blanket, well… Burryaga would keep that urge to himself.)

“I’m scared about the mere idea of losing you. Every time there’s the threat of the Nameless my first thought is not me, but you.”

“You-” A small sigh, tired and worried. “My life shouldn’t be your top priority on the field Burry.”

“I know that!” Burryaga growled, staring at Bell with desperation. “You’re one of the most important people in my life and the idea of losing you is unbearable.”

Bell’s eyes widened, and Burryaga could see he second Bell got what he meant, just how deep in his heart Bell had burrowed himself. How the Force was so much more fulfilled to Burryaga when Bell was nearby.

A sun that Burryaga revolved around, happily stuck in Bell’s orbit.

The small suns that were Bell’s eyes shined in the fluorescent lights, his hand still gripping Burryaga’s tightly.

“Burry.”

Bell’s voice was soft and Burryaga wasn’t sure if he was imagining he note of longing in his voice or not.

He hoped he wasn’t.

“We-.” Bell’s tongue flicked out to flick along his lips. “We can’t Burry, not when the galaxy is such a mess.”

Burryaga squeezed Bell’s hand, willing back the soft coo of sadness, even though he knew that would’ve been Bell’s response. They were Jedi first, and that meant the galaxy over their own wants until there was peace again.

“Not yet anyways.” Bell’s voice was still soft, his eyes shimmering. “When this is all over, okay? Ask me then.”

Bell gently reached up and extended his pinkie, the slim finger within reach. “I promise you, I’ll do my best to survive until this is all over. Can we do that?”

Can you promise the same?

Burryaga reached up and hooked his own pinkie around Bells, the Force rustling around them like tree’s in a light breeze.

“I’m not promising that neither of us will rejoin the Force,” Bell said softly.

“That would be stupid.” Burryaga agreed with a small grin.

“Just promise me you won’t needlessly go off on a self-sacrificial mission unless there’s no other way, and that means no recklessly trying to save my life.” Bell’s eyes were piercing, his words quiet as he continued.

With a small shudder, Burryaga slowly nodded his head and brushed against Bell’s shields in the Force, preening a little when Bell brushed back fondly.

“I’ll wait,” Burryaga cooed, twining his fingers with Bell’s left hand, smiling as the humans smaller hand linked tighter. “We’ll make it through this and I’ll ask you then. No matter how long it takes.”

Bell’s smile was as relieved as it was beautiful.

“That’s all I ask.” He whispered.

‘I would give you the sun if you asked.’ Burryaga pushed the thought to the side, and le himself enjoy the feeling of Bell’s hands in his, the feeling of his heart and the small promise that was now settled in his chest.

[bellzettifarism]

The archives were quiet.

It wasn’t the empty, anxiety-inducing quiet of the many abandoned settlements Bell had tread through in the past few months, but it still made him a little nervous. The quiet rarely sat well with him anymore.

Chewing on his lip, Bell continued to look at the shelf just above him, not entirely sure what he was looking for. It was more of offering a little bit of his consciousness into the Force, letting its familiar warmth guide his eyes and hands. Following the chaos on Visophex 1, and Marchion Ro’s ominous declaration shortly after, Bell was grateful that he and Burry had been given some time off to rest before heading back out with Admiral Pell and her crew on the Tractate.

Burryaga shuffled behind him, and Bell briefly amended that thought to ‘less strenuous activities’ rather than ‘rest’. Burry had been adamant on Bell taking frequent breaks in-between spats of research, even when the Wookiee had also been knee-deep in his own research.

The hypocrite.

It was a fond thought, one that brought a small smile to Bell’s lips as his eyes dragged over various titles, the Force flickering encouragingly as the list grew smaller. Whether it be something to do with the Drengir, Reath’s research into the Blight and Nameless, (the mere thought of them sent a cold shiver down Bell’s spine.) or even the mysterious Evereni species and their home planet, The Force was wanting him to find something.

Burry said something gruffly behind him, but Bell didn’t truly register it, not when a singular holo book was standing out to him like a lone torch, two shelves above his reach. Bell pursed his lips in what he knew Burry would teasingly call a pout, staring at the offending book with a frustrated glare. Theoretically, Bell could just use the Force to pull it down, but his control wasn’t the best and still left him irrationally exhausted. Hence the frequent breaks.

Grumbling, Bell began to draw on the Force, trying to focus on that one volume-

Only for the equivalent of gentle swat in the Force to ghost along his hand. Bell yelped, scowling indignantly. Hand still stretched out, Bell didn’t even get a single word out before a large arm was wrapping around his waist tightly, gently manhandling him around in a dizzying circle until Burryaga’s robe covered chest was filling his vision.

Bell froze, staring at the folds in the robes as Burry towered over him. One arm was tight around his waist, a line of heated pressure that Bell couldn’t ignore. The shelf behind him dug into his shoulders, so harsh compared to Burryaga’s grip that it was all Bell could focus on, how the large limb held his weight with ease, the way Burry’s fingers curled comfortably around his waist and held him in place.

“Bell.”

Bell cringed at Burryaga’s chiding tone, still focused on those fingers splayed over his stomach.

“I know-”

“Then why are you needlessly overexerting yourself?”

Bell finally looked up, and the immediate feeling of being pinned in place by his Partner’s eyes was near overwhelming, so much so Bell had to concentrate so his knees wouldn’t buckle.

“I-”

Bell tried to search for the words, but everything just seemed like an excuse. Eventually he just slumped in the Wookiee’s grasp, letting himself be pulled closer. Definitely not because he was enjoying the feel of Burry’s arm around his waist. "I’m sorry.”

Another hand gently cupped the back of Bell’s skull for a brief moment, then was trailing down his spine and joining the other, completely encircling Bell. They were warm and the grip was firm and holy shit that’s all Bell could think about. If a little selfishly, Bell gripped onto Burryaga’s shoulders, staring up at those brilliant brown eyes as they shone in the dim lighting.

“Just, look after yourself, okay? There’s no need for you to burn yourself out so quickly.”

Burryaga’s voice was so soft with worry, a low coo that just made his grip burn more.

“Yeah- yeah, will do.” Bell stuttered out, shivering as Burryaga pulled back, large hands casually lingering around his waist before trailing off.

Bell already missed the touch, licking his lips unsteadily. For a brief moment, it looked like Burry’s eyes followed the movement, but then the Wookiee was reaching above Bell and easily pulling the holo-book down, handing it to Bell with a semi-smug expression.

‘Okay, yeah, I’m fucked.’

Burryaga rose an eyebrow with a smirk, motioning his head back to the desk they had taken over hours ago. “After you.” He purred, arm stretched out as he dipped into a small bow..

With a flustered smile Bell clutched the book to his chest and walked past, the feeling of Burry’s arms around his waist still tingling on his skin underneath his robes. Burryaga followed, and even through said robes, Bell could feel the heat radiating off of his friend.

‘Smug furball.’ Bell thought fondly.