#day 4 hurt/comfort

[deoidesign]

My comic is so pretty...

The hiatus is letting me take a little extra time on these episodes, and I'm definitely putting it to good use!!!

[weevil-wallflower]

A Jedi & A Droid

Cal Kestis x Jedi!Reader

Summary: Your life was never the same after You stumbled upon another Jedi and a droid.

Warnings/Tags: No warnings, SFW, hurt/comfort, minor angst, fluff, mutual pining, no use of Y/N, no pronouns used, pre/during Jedi: Survivor, minor spoilers for Jedi: Survivor.

A.N.: My third entry for Cal Kestis Week 2024! Prompts: Day 3 - Droid & Day 4 - "We shouldn't be doing this".

I am so late but responsibilities called! Also, this story, initially meant to be simple, got wayyy out of hand and turned into a combination of little snippets. So a bit of a wordy one but I am so happy to finally write this, as the idea had been sitting in my drafts for so long plus I really enjoyed writing it! I think this is one of my best stories yet :3 Gif by me!

Also on AO3!

Word Count: ~6,800

After the crew of the Mantis had split apart, Cal found himself adrift in the galaxy with only BD-1 by his side, spending years drifting between missions and without a crew—a family. While working for Saw Gerrera, he had formed strong friendships with fellow rebels; Gabs, the Klatooinian twins Koob and Lizz, and Bravo. However, it never felt quite the same. He longed for the camaraderie and companionship he had once known, yearning for a friend, a family and perhaps even a partner, to share in their journey’s hardships and victories.

Then, one fateful day, while Cal and BD-1 were navigating through a crowded spaceport, they came across You—running desperately from a squad of unrelenting stormtroopers. Cal's sharp senses detected the hurry in your movements and the terror in your expression as You ran through the packed streets, desperately trying to evade capture.

Without hesitation, Cal leapt into action, his instincts kicking into overdrive as he made his way through the chaotic crowds, dodging blaster fire and weaving through narrow alleyways in pursuit of You. Out of breath, he finally caught up to You, halting You in your tracks and reached out a hand to offer his help.

“Come with us!” The redhead urged, his voice firm yet reassuring as he glanced back at the approaching stormtroopers. “We have a ship. We can help you escape.”

Despite the opportunity presented before You, You hesitated, your eyes wide with fear and uncertainty as You weight your options.

“I’m not getting in a stranger’s ship!” You protested, your voice trembling with apprehension.

Cal’s gaze softened, understanding the gravity of your situation as he met your gaze with unwavering determination.

“You have a better idea?” He asked, his tone gentle yet firm as he kept his hand extended towards You.

You still appeared hesitant but the thunderous footsteps of the approaching stormtroopers and the urgent “Beep-bo-beep!” from the droid perched on the redhead’s back sealed the deal, making You choose the lesser of two evils. With a slight nod, You reached out to take the redhead’s hand, feeling a sense of trust and reassurance wash over You like a wave. Was it the Force trying to tell You something? You had no time to dwell on it, however, as Cal led You to his ship.

As the three of you boarded the Mantis, Cal’s eyes widened with excitement when they fell on the lightsaber strapped to your side, realisation dawning on him.

“You’re a Jedi!” He exclaimed, surprise apparent in his voice. “That’s why those Imps were after you.”

The knowledge brought him some hope, knowing that he had finally found another Jedi besides Cere, after all these years.

You simply nodded and hesitantly took the offered co-pilot seat as the ship soared through the vast outer space. You were unable to shake the feeling of apprehension that gripped You. The knowledge that Cal now knew You were a Jedi filled You with a sense of unease, knowing all too well the dangers that come with being hunted throughout the Galaxy. The thought of bounty hunters and Imperial forces closing in on You sent a shiver down your spine, and You couldn’t help but wonder if trusting Cal was a mistake.

However, as You stole a glance at him while he piloted the ship, You noticed something that caught You off guard—a lightsaber attached to his belt, just like yours. Your eyes widened in surprise as You turned to face him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Are you… are you also a Jedi?” You asked, your voice full of uncertainty.

Cal’s face lit up with a smile, his green eyes sparkling with excitement and happiness.

“Yes, I am!” He exclaimed, voice full of joy. “I can’t believe I’ve finally found another Jedi!”

“Me too…” You whispered as the revelation sent a wave of relief washing over You. And sure enough, You felt his Force signature resonate around You, feeling his resilience, determination and a strong connection to the Light Side of the Force. However, while the signature carried traces of sorrow and grief, You were surprised by how warm and comforting it felt, enveloping You like a protective blanket. You were unable to remember the last time You felt someone’s Force signature—much less one as soothing. The feeling replaced your earlier apprehension with a sense of solidarity and companionship, relieved to know that You were not alone.

However, it still took time for You to feel comfortable around Cal, despite his warm demeanor and infectious enthusiasm. But slowly over time, You found yourself gradually opening up to the redhead, sharing stories of your past and your hopes for the future. Yet, a lingering sense of caution remained, a barrier that felt insurmountable at times.

But BD-1, Cal’s loyal droid friend, proved to be a source of comfort and solace during those moments of uncertainty. Seeing how happy Cal was once more, all because of your presence on board, BD-1 went out of his way to make You feel welcome with his cheerful chirps and friendly demeanour, offering You small gifts and gestures of kindness that never failed to bring a smile to your face.

And as You watched the little droid trot around the ship, trilling with excitement, You couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude towards him. His efforts to make You feel comfortable and at ease did not go unnoticed, and You found yourself growing fond of BD-1 in return.

Cal, too, noticed the bond that was forming between the both of you, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his droid friend bringing joy and laughter into your life like he did for him. Seeing You happy lifted Cal’s spirits in ways he couldn’t fully explain, and he found himself opening up to You even more, sharing his hopes and fears with a newfound sense of trust and vulnerability.

Overall, BD-1’s efforts to make You feel comfortable and welcome were essential in helping You overcome your initial apprehension and form strong bonds of friendship with Cal and the droid. There were numerous instances which contributed to strengthening your bond with both of them.

One day, Cal and BD-1 ventured out on a mission while You agreed to stay behind on the Mantis to look after it and to provide backup support if needed. But when the duo failed to return when they should have, a sense of worry began to settle deep in your mind. Especially when You were unable to contact them via the comms. Time appeared to stretch on endlessly as You waited for their return, each minute that passed only made your concern grow. Feeling restless, You paced the length of the ship, your footsteps echoing in the empty corridors as You anxiously awaited their safe return.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, just when You contemplated going out to search for them, You heard footsteps and beeping sounds. You quickly rushed down the ramp to be greeted by the sight of Cal, looking a little worse for wear but otherwise unharmed. Your worries melted away in an instant as You ran over to greet him.

“Cal, you’re back!” You exclaimed, relief evident in your voice.

The redhead grinned wearily, his expression softened by your sight. “Hey…” He greeted, his voice tinged with exhaustion. “Sorry for the delay. We ran into a bit of trouble out there.”

Before You could respond, BD-1 chirped excitedly, leaping down from Cal's back and presented You with a tiny gift he ejected from his stim dispenser. With a delighted giggle, You accepted the gift, a simple trinket made from scavenged materials—a token of BD-1's affection and friendship.

As You thanked the little droid for the thoughtful gesture, Cal couldn't help but chuckle at the scene unfolding before him.

"Well, it looks like BeeDee gets all the attention," he quipped, his tone light-hearted as he approached you. "No warm welcome for a valiant hero like me, huh?"

You grinned at his playful remark, thankful that despite the dangers they faced on their mission, Cal and BD-1 had returned safely, and that was all that mattered in the end.

As you all walked back inside the Mantis together, Cal's arm draped casually over your shoulder, You couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging wash over You. And when BD-1 chirped happily beside You, You knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together as a team.

Another day, You remember sitting alone in the quiet solitude of your quarters at the back of the Mantis. With the weight of loneliness and longing pressing heavy on your heart, You couldn't help but feel the ache of missing your long-gone family and friends. Memories of happier times filled your mind, each recollection a bittersweet reminder of the bonds You had lost to the war of the Galaxy.

Meanwhile, out in the common area of the ship, Cal paced back and forth with furrowed brows, his concern for You evident in the worried lines etched upon his face. He had sensed your melancholy from the moment You had withdrawn to your quarters, and despite his best efforts to coax You out of your seclusion, You had insisted that You were fine, not wanting to burden him with your troubles.

But BD-1, after sensing your distress, took it upon himself to cheer You up. With a soft chirp, the little droid scuttled into your quarters, carrying an assortment of gifts and trinkets.

You looked up when BD-1 dropped the presents at your feet, startled by the unexpected intrusion. But when You gazed into the droid’s photoreceptor lenses, You noticed something—empathy, compassion and a silent invitation to share in his company.

With a small smile, you reached out to accept the gifts that BD-1 had brought for You, each one a small token of friendship and comfort in the midst of your loneliness. A handcrafted charm bracelet, a bundle of aromatic herbs, and a holorecording of soothing music—all thoughtfully chosen to lift your spirits and ease the ache in your heart.

As You held the gifts close to your heart, a wave of gratitude washed over You, grateful for the droid’s unwavering support and companionship.

When Cal noticed BD-1 entering your quarters, he longed to join in as well, wanting to do everything he could to make You feel better and suddenly, an idea came to him. Quickly, he brewed a cup of your favorite caf, its rich aroma filling the air. With each measured step, he poured his heart into the simple act of preparing the beverage, hoping that it will bring You some solace in the midst of your turmoil.

As the redhead slowly walked into your quarters with the steaming cup in hand, he felt a sense of relief wash over him at the sight of the little droid’s offerings laid out before You on your bed. He was grateful for BD-1’s presence, knowing that the little droid was looking after You in his own unique way, offering You comfort when You needed it the most.

When You saw Cal enter your quarters with hesitant steps, You couldn’t help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest at the sight of him. The small, sympathetic smile he wore tugged at your heartstrings, and as You watched him walk closer, your lips curved into a small smile of your own.

Slowly, Cal extended the cup towards You, his gesture a silent offering of support and understanding. And as You accepted the cup of caf, You felt a sense of gratitude, knowing that with Cal and BD-1 present, You were never truly alone, even in your moments of solitude. Their presence and unwavering support filled the room with a comforting sense of companionship that eased the ache in your heart.

When Cal moved to leave You to your thoughts, as You had requested earlier, a sudden impulse seized You. “ Cal, wait!” You called out, surprising yourself with the words.

Turning back to face You, the redhead’s expression was one of curiosity, his eyes searching yours.

“Would you… would you mind staying here for a while?” You asked, your voice soft with uncertainty. “I could use the company…”

A flicker of emotion passed through Cal’s eyes; a mixture of surprise, gratitude and something deeper You couldn’t quite recognise. With a small nod, he settled into the seat opposite You, his presence along with BD-1’s providing reassurance amidst your troubled thoughts.

And as you all sat together in the comfort of your quarters, the warmth of the caf and the gentle hum of conversation filled the air, slowly dissipating the tension from earlier. With each passing moment, You found yourself drawn deeper into the warmth of Cal’s presence, the sound of his deep voice soothing your worries.

As You listened to him speak, your gaze wandered, taking in the details of his appearance with a newfound appreciation. His fiery red hair, the brightest You had ever seen, seemed to glow in the soft light of the room.

His green eyes, so vibrant and full of life, sparkled with intelligence and kindness, drawing You in with their magnetic charm. And as You met his gaze, You found yourself captivated by the depth and warmth that lay within them, a reflection of the soul that resided behind those beautiful emerald orbs.

His freckles, scattered like constellations across his sun-kissed skin, added to his charm, giving him an air of boyish innocence that belied the immense strength and resilience he possessed. And though his face carried the marks of battles fought and hardships endured, each scar only served to enhance his rugged allure, a testament to the trials and tribulations he had overcome over the years.

While You took in the sight of him, bathed in the soft glow of the room, You couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration wash over You. In that moment, surrounded by the comforting embrace of his presence, You knew that You were in the presence of someone truly special—a friend, a confidant, and perhaps something more.

As time went on and the bond between You and the duo deepened, You developed a deep, almost parental affection for the little droid, despite not understanding what he said half the time. Often, in moments of excitement or tenderness, You found yourself affectionately calling BD-1 "Beebee" or "BB-1," much to Cal’s amusement.

During one particularly heartwarming moment by the campfire during a stop on Bogano, as Cal's hand brushed against yours and the stars twinkled overhead, You couldn't resist reaching out to BD-1 with a soft smile.

"Come here, Beebee," You cooed, beckoning the droid closer.

BD-1 chirped happily, nuzzling against your side with a warmth that made your heart swell.

Cal chuckled at the endearing nickname, his eyes crinkling with affection as he observed the exchange.

"You're my little bebe!" You exclaimed, unable to contain your adoration for the droid, causing Cal's laughter to fill the air, a melodic sound that echoed through the night.

"You're going to spoil him with all that love," he teased, his playful tone only adding to the warmth of the moment.

You grinned, feeling a sense of contentment wash over You. "Well, he deserves it," You replied, reaching out to pat BD-1's head affectionately.

Another one of your adventures led you all to an enchanting night market, where the dim glow of colourful lanterns illuminated the bustling streets. Cloaked in hooded robes that disguised your identities, You and Cal strolled through the bustling streets and crowds of people. The outer rim planet that you all had landed on was far from the watchful eyes of the Empire, but the threat of being hunted down as Jedi still lingered, necessitating caution in your movements.

As you both moved through the sea of sellers and stalls, You couldn't help but steal glances at Cal, admiring how handsome and mysterious he looked in his black cloak.

Cal too stole glances at You from beneath his hood, unable to contain his admiration. The way your eyes sparkled with curiosity as You took in the sights and sounds around You, the delicate curve of your smile as You marveled at the many stalls— it all filled him with a warmth that he couldn't quite explain.

His thoughts drifted to uncharted territory as he found himself yearning for more than just companionship with You. The urge to reach out and hold You close, to feel the warmth of your embrace and the softness of your touch, tugged at his heartstrings with an intensity he hadn't anticipated.

But the redhead knew better than to act on such impulses, especially in the midst of such a perilous situation. The threat of danger loomed overhead, reminding him of the risks involved in allowing his emotions to take control. And yet, despite the rational voice of caution in his mind, he couldn't shake the longing that stirred within him whenever he looked at You.

And as You turned to face him with a curious expression, he felt a rush of warmth fill his chest, the desire to protect and cherish You overwhelming any doubts or fears that lingered within him. In that moment, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the night market, Cal knew one thing for certain; he would do anything to keep You safe.

The redhead’s thoughts were interrupted when You suddenly rushed inside a bookstore with shelves full of interesting titles. Among them, a book on how to learn Binary stuck out, with a cover full of symbols and characters that attracted your interest.

"Hey, Cal, check this out!" You exclaimed, excitedly holding up the book after he caught up to You. "I've always wanted to learn Binary, especially now so I can understand Beebee better. What do you think?"

Cal glanced at the book, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I think that's a great idea," he replied, his voice warm with encouragement. "Learning Binary could definitely help you and Beedee communicate more effectively."

Turning to BD-1, who was perched on Cal's shoulder, You addressed the droid with a playful grin. "What do you think, Beebee? You think I can learn Binary? Then you and I can gossip like schoolgirls, won't that be fun?"

Cal chuckled at your remark, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I definitely think Beedee will have some juicy gossip to tell you," he quipped, eliciting a series of excited beeps from the droid. "But yeah, learning Binary sounds like a fantastic idea. Just promise me one thing: as long as you both don't gossip about me, I'm all for it."

You giggled in response before purchasing the book and tucking it safely into your robes. For some reason, You hadn’t thought to ask Cal for lessons, thinking You could learn on your own and not wanting to trouble him as he already had too much on his plate. But now, with the book in hand, You were eager to begin learning.

After weeks turned to months aboard the Mantis, You received communication from a distant friend from within the rebellion You worked for, presenting You with a difficult choice. The holographic image flickered to life from within your now fixed comms unit, revealing the face of a trusted ally, their voice filled with urgency and determination as they extended an invitation for You to return to the rebellion.

For a moment, You felt torn, the call to duty and the desire to make a difference in the Galaxy making You feel conflicted. The rebellion was your way of fighting for freedom and justice alongside allies who shared your ideals and convictions.

But as You glanced around the familiar surroundings of the Mantis, the faces of Cal and BD-1 staring back at You with concern and uncertainty, You realised that this ship had become more than just a travelling vessel—it was your sanctuary, your home.

Cal, ever perceptive to the turmoil raging within You, approached with a gentle hand resting on your shoulder, his eyes filled with understanding and empathy. “Whatever you decide, know that we’re here for you,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “You’re a part of this crew, a part of this family, and we’ll support you no matter what.”

With a heavy heart, You weighed your options, torn between the duty to your cause and the love for your newfound family.

In the end, You made your decision, lead on by your stubborn sense of duty to the cause. The call to serve the rebellion beckoned with an undeniable urgency. In a way, You and Cal were very similar, feeling like you both needed to keep fighting, unable to shake the sense of duty that weight heavily on both of you.

Cal accepted your decision with great reluctance, having half a mind to join You but he had his own duty to fulfill for Saw Gerrera’s rebellion.

When the moment of your departure drew closer, Cal and BD-1 stood beside You as You gathered your meagre belongings, their expressions a mirror of your own conflicted emotions, as You prepared to leave. The duo knew that your absence would leave a void aboard the Mantis that would be difficult to fill.

Cal, ever stoic and composed, held his emotions in check, offering You a reassuring smile as he bid You farewell. His words of encouragement and support echoed in your ears, reminding You that You were not alone in your decision, no matter how difficult it may be.

BD-1 on the other hand, unable to contain his emotions, wailed and cried, clinging to your legs desperately as You attempted to walk down the ramp of the Mantis and onto the planet. The little droid’s cries of distress tore at your heartstrings, filling You with a sense of guilt and anguish as You struggled to pull away.

“Beebee, it’s okay,” You whispered, calling him with that endearing nickname, your voice thick with emotions as You tried to soothe the distraught droid. “I’ll come back, I promise. We’ll see eachother again soon.”

But BD-1’s cries only grew louder, his little legs clinging to You in a desperate embrace, refusing to let go. Tears welled in your eyes as You looked into the droid’s photoreceptors, seeing the depth of his sorrow reflected back at You.

As he watched BD-1 cling to You with such desperation, witnessing the droid’s anguish and your distress, Cal felt a pang of sorrow and longing grip his heart as well. He slowly approached you both, gently reaching out to the droid. “’We shouldn’t be doing this’,” he murmured softly, his voice laced with sorrow as he pried BD-1 away from You. “We must respect others’ decisions…”

The redhead wanted nothing more than to embrace You, to hold You close and offer You comfort in this difficult moment. But he knew that if he allowed himself to give in to that temptation, he would break down completely. With a heavy heart, Cal settled for a handshake instead, his touch gentle yet firm as he bid You farewell. He knew that letting You go was the right thing to do, even if it tore him apart inside.

With a heavy heart, your touch lingered on Cal’s hand before You gave BD-1 one last reassuring pat before finally stepping away and descending down the ramp. And as You walked away, the echoes of BD-1's cries followed You, a haunting reminder of the sacrifice You had made in the name of duty.

As your silhouette faded into the horizon, Cal couldn’t shake the weight of grief that settled in his chest. Watching you leave, he couldn't help but reflect on the bond that had formed between You, him and BD-1, realizing how much he and the little droid had come to cherish You.

In the short time You had been aboard the Mantis, You had become like family to them. And now, just as they had grown accustomed to your presence, You were leaving them, all too soon, like so many others before You.

The thought of saying goodbye was nearly unbearable, a painful reminder of the transience of life and the fleeting nature of companionship in a Galaxy ripped apart by conflict and suffering. But even as the pain of loss threatened to overwhelm him, Cal knew that he couldn't hold You back, knowing all too well that your duty to the rebellion was a call You could not ignore.

As Cal returned inside the Mantis, a heaviness settled upon him, weighing down his spirit with the burden of your departure. Unable to muster the resolve to fly the ship just yet, he found himself sinking into melancholy, the empty space around him echoing with the absence of your presence.

Sitting in the cockpit, Cal held BD-1 close to him, the little droid providing what comfort it could with its mechanical chirps and beeps. But even as he clung to BD-1, a sense of loneliness overcame him, a stark reminder of the void left behind by your absence.

"BeeDee," Cal murmured softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "We... We both really did come to love our new friend, didn't we?"

"Boo-woo..." BD-1 beeped in response, his photoreceptors dimming with sorrow as he nestled closer to the redhead. In that moment, as they sat together in the silent cockpit, Cal sought solace in the presence of his loyal droid.

BD-1 then emitted a flurry of hurried beeps, crying out to Cal with urgency, telling—demanding him to bring You back right this instant. Cal felt a pang of sadness grip his heart as the desperation in BD-1's cries mirrored his own inner turmoil, reminding him of the depth of the bond that had formed between him and You.

"We shouldn't be doing something like this..." Cal repeated solemnly, shaking his head as he recalled his earlier words when BD had clung to You. "We can't force someone like that..."

His voice was heavy with resignation, a reflection of the harsh reality they faced. Despite their wishes and desires, they couldn't force You to stay, no matter how much they wanted to. The decision was yours alone to make, and they had to respect that, no matter how difficult it may be.

BD-1 emitted a series of mournful beeps in response, his sorrow palpable as he nestled closer to Cal, seeking solace in his presence. Together, they sat in the quiet confines of the cockpit, grappling with the emptiness left behind by your departure, silently hoping that You will return to them one day.

Meanwhile, as the evening turned into night, You found yourself immersed in the routine of life within the rebellion's base once more, but the memory of leaving your newfound family behind weighed heavily on your mind. Amidst the chatter and activity of your fellow rebels, a sense of longing gnawed at your heart, aching for the companionship and camaraderie You had experienced aboard the Mantis.

In the quiet solitude of your old quarters, You unpacked your belongings, the Binary language book You had purchased a few weeks earlier catching your eye. The sight of it brought back precious memories, reminding You of the laughter, the warmth, and the sense of belonging You had felt with Cal and BD-1. In that moment, You realised with a pang of regret how big of a mistake You had made in leaving them behind.

With resolution burning within You, You made a spur-of-the-moment decision to return to the Mantis, hoping against hope that it wasn't too late. Racing through the dimly lit corridors of the rebellion's base, your heart pounded with anticipation as You hurried towards the landing pad where the ship was stationed.

As You approached, the silhouette of the Mantis came into view, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. Relief washed over You as You realised despite the few hours that had passed since You had left, the ship was still there, almost as if waiting patiently for your return.

You ran up the ramp and inside the ship, your breath coming in ragged gasps as your gaze fell on the solemn figures of Cal and BD-1. For a brief moment, confusion flickered across their faces, but it quickly gave way to surprise and joy as they realised that You had returned.

BD-1 was the first to react, emitting a series of excited beeps as he rushed towards You. Tears welled up in your eyes as You knelt down to greet the little droid, wrapping your arms around his small frame in a tight embrace.

"I'm so sorry," You whispered tearfully. "I didn't mean to leave you. I didn't realise how much you both meant to me until I was gone."

BD-1 chirped softly in response, his photoreceptors gleaming with happiness as he nuzzled against You. Meanwhile, Cal approached slowly, his expression a mixture of relief and concern as he watched the emotional reunion unfold before him.

"Welcome back," he said softly, his voice tinged with emotion.

With BD-1 by your side as a reassuring presence, You rose from your embrace with the droid and turned to face Cal, the weight of your emotions spilling over as You threw your arms around him in a tight hug.

As You hugged Cal, your heart overflowing with emotion, he returned the embrace just as fervently, his strong arms enveloping You in a comforting hold.

"I'm so sorry, Cal," You whispered once more, your voice trembling. "I didn't mean to leave you both..."

Cal held You at arm's length, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of relief and sincerity. "You mean a lot to us, you know," he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of his feelings. "We've come to rely on you, to count on you. And when you left..."

His voice trailed off, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. But before You could respond, BD-1 let out a series of joyful beeps, trotting over to nuzzle against You in his own display of affection.

The redhead grinned fondly at the droid before turning his attention back to You. "Beedee's right. You're not just a member of the crew," he continued, his words filled with warmth. "You're family. And we're just grateful to have you back where you belong."

Tears of gratitude flowed down your cheeks as You gazed at Cal, feeling the weight of his words sink in. In that moment, surrounded by the love and acceptance of your chosen family, You knew that You were exactly where You were meant to be.

Your adventures continued, roaming the Galaxy with Cal and BD-1. Despite using your book to teach yourself Binary and spending more time with BD-1, your grasp of the language remained shaky at best, leading to frequent misunderstandings with your droid friend that often led to comical yet occasionally embarrassing moments.

During one very tense mission on a remote planet, BD-1 emitted a series of urgent beeps, which You interpreted as a call for action. Without hesitation, You activated the nearest control panel, thinking You were helping to disable a security system. But your actions did the opposite instead, triggering a blaring alarm and alerting nearby guards.

Cal chuckled softly at your mistake, but his amusement turned to concern when You misinterpreted BD-1's attempts at giving directions using the help of his holomap. Confused by the droid's beeps, You accidentally led the way into a dead-end corridor, much to Cal's bemusement.

"Oh, wrong turn…" You mumbled sheepishly, earning a sympathetic pat on the back from Cal.

As the mission progressed, so did your series of misunderstandings. At one point, BD-1 signaled for a left turn, but You mistook it for a right, resulting on a wild goose chase through a maze of corridors. Cal laughed good-naturedly as You backtracked, feeling slightly embarrassed but grateful— and very surprised—for his immense patience.

Later, during a small respite from missions, BD-1 chirped happily and nudged You, prompting You to offer the droid a sandwich You had just made.

Cal chuckled again, gently correcting your mistake. "He's asking for a power recharge, not a snack," he explained, suppressing a grin.

Blushing, You quickly helped BD-1 into the charging station, feeling a bit silly but grateful for the opportunity to learn.

As you three continued your journey, your misunderstandings with BD-1 became both more frequent and more amusing. One memorable incident during a mission on a remote outpost, BD-1 quickly warned You about a slippery surface ahead. However, You misinterpreted the droid's chirps as encouragement for a fun slide.

With a playful grin, You ran and launched yourself onto the surface, expecting a thrilling ride. Instead, your feet flew out from under You, and You landed with a loud thud that sent a cloud of dust into the air.

Cal rushed over, concern etched on his face, but as he helped You up and noticed You were fine except a few scrapes, his expression softened into a grin.

"You really need to work on your Binary," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Blushing furiously, You burst out into laughter along with him, grateful for his good humor and unwavering support.

One evening, as the three of you sat around a campfire beneath a blanket of stars, the flames casting flickering shadows across the campsite, You couldn't help but steal glances at Cal when he wasn't looking. His red hair, illuminated by the warm glow of the fire, appeared to shimmer like molten copper, framing his face in a halo of fiery strands.

His freckled cheeks, kissed by the suns of countless worlds, added a touch of youthful charm to his rugged features. And when he laughed, his eyes sparkled like twin galaxies, filled with a light that seemed to chase away the darkness.

But it wasn't just his appearance that captivated You—it was the effortless grace with which he moved, the strength and agility evident in every fluid motion. His muscular yet lithe physique reflected countless hours spent honing his skills, preparing for the challenges that lay ahead.

Lost in admiration, You found yourself drawn to him in ways You couldn't quite explain, feeling a sense of déjà vu during that moment as You admired him. And as You watched him tend to the fire, his movements sure and purposeful, You couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest.

While the flames danced and crackled, Cal couldn't help but steal a glance at You as well when he thought You weren't looking. He felt a surge of gratitude and relief to have You there with him, especially after the rest of the Mantis crew had split, each going their separate ways.

In those quiet moments by the campfire, Cal's thoughts drifted to the challenges you had faced together so far—the battles fought and the bonds forged in the crucible of adversity. And through it all, You had stood by his side, a constant companion whose presence filled him with a sense of hope and purpose.

He also admired your determination to learn binary, your willingness to laugh at your own mistakes, and the genuine warmth and affection You showed towards BD-1. In your company, he found a sense of peace and belonging, something he hadn't felt since the fall of the Jedi Order.

Lost in his thoughts, the redhead couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for You, grateful for your unwavering support and companionship. And as he watched You, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Cal's gaze remained on You longer than usual, a hint of something more lingering in his eyes. As the crackling of the fire filled the silence, he reached out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze, You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from his.

"I... I think so," You stuttered, your heart racing in your chest.

In that moment, the world around You seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in the soft glow of the campfire. Without another word, Cal leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, hesitant kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as You melted into his embrace, the warmth of his touch sending sparks of electricity dancing across your skin. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of you, lost in the embrace of the night.

As You pulled away, breathless and flushed, Cal's eyes sparkled in their intensity, his calloused hand reaching out to intertwine with yours.

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time," he admitted, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and relief.

With a smile, You squeezed his hand, feeling a sense of peace settle over You. "Me too," You whispered, knowing that in that moment, You had found something worth fighting for amidst the chaos of the Galaxy.

As You and Cal continued to lovingly gaze into each other's eyes, soft little footsteps filled the air, accompanied by the joyous chirps of BD-1. However, in your post-kiss daze, You misinterpreted the droid's enthusiastic speech, thinking he was teasing You for being all googly-eyed over Cal.

"Beebee, not now," You whispered nervously, blushing furiously as You tried to compose yourself.

Cal laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he gently nudged You. "I think BeeDee is just happy for us," he teased, his tone laced with affectionate amusement.

You shot him a sheepish grin, realising You mistook the little droid once again. "I guess I still have a lot to learn," You admitted.

Cal's teasing grin softened into a warm smile as he squeezed your hand. "Well, lucky for you, I'm an excellent teacher," he replied, his teasing tone hinting at something more than just language lessons.

You couldn't help but blush at the underlying implication of his words, a flutter of excitement dancing in your chest. You leaned in to kiss him once more and as the tender moment between You and Cal lingered, bathed in the soft glow of the campfire, BD-1’s lenses suddenly whirred to life, capturing the scene in a flash of light. Startled, You pulled away from the kiss, blinking in surprise as You turned to see the droid standing nearby, his photoreceptors zooming in and out as they focused on You and Cal with mechanical precision.

“BeeBee, what are you doing?” You asked, a mixture of amusement and curiosity apparent in your voice.

Cal chuckled softly, his arm still wrapped around You as he glanced at the small droid with a playful grin. “I think BeeDee wanted to capture the moment,” he explained, his eyes alight with amusement.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the unexpected gesture, feeling a rush of warmth fill your chest at the thought of having a memento of this special moment.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to thank BeeBee for the souvenir,” You replied, leaning into Cal’s embrace with a contented sigh, giggling when You heard the little droid let out an excited “Whoop!” in response.

You, Cal and BD-1 settled back into the quiet comfort of the night, the image captured by BD’s lenses served as a reminder of the bond You shared with the other Jedi—a bond formed from friendship and love.

As silence once again fell upon the campsite, You found yourself lost in a moment of quiet reflection. The memory of how Cal and BD-1 had found You, helping You escape from the stormtroopers, flooded your mind with a wave of gratitude. If it hadn't been for them, You might not be here, nestled in Cal's arms, sharing laughter and companionship under the starry sky.

With a sweet smile, You turned to Cal, the flickering flames casting shadows across his features. "You know," You began softly, "I often find myself thinking about that day when a Jedi and a droid came into my life. If it weren't for you, I don't know where I'd be now. Thank you, Cal, for everything."

Cal's gaze met yours, his expression tender and sincere. "You don't have to thank me," he replied gently. "I'm just grateful that we found each other. You've become a part of our family, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

His words warmed your heart, filling You with a sense of belonging that You had never known before. With a grateful nod, You leaned even further into his embrace, savoring the comfort and reassurance of his presence. In that moment, surrounded by the silence of the night, the warmth of Cal's love and the joyous chatter of BD-1, You knew that You were exactly where You were meant to be.

[serickswrites]

In My Head

A/N: I have never combined events before (idk i'm super rigid in my thinking sometimes lol) but there was so much excellent crossover between these events, I couldn't not combine them lol

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, bleeding out, mcd, survivor's guilt, self destructive behavior, caretaker and whumpee, hurt/no comfort, grief

"Now, Caretaker," Whumper said as they circled around the chair they had chained Caretaker to, "I don't want to have to say this again. You have until I reach the end of the countdown to tell me what I want or else I will start carving into Whumpee and I won't stop until you give me what I want."

"I keep telling you, I don't know anything! Please, please! Hurt me," Caretaker begged. They couldn't let Whumper do this. They couldn't let Whumpee suffer for their mistakes.

"It's ok, Caretaker. I'll be ok," Whumpee said as they smiled weakly at Caretaker. "Whumper's all talk and no action. Don't worry, I'll be ok." They were in standing cuffs opposite Caretaker. They stood, shifting their weight from one leg to the other as they waited.

"Five," Whumper said as they stopped in front of Caretaker.

"Please!"

"Four," Whumper said as they stepped back.

"Whumper, I don't know anything!" Caretaker had to get Whumper to believe them.

"Three," Whumper said as they fingered the knife in their belt.

"It's ok, Caretaker. Really, it will be ok. They're bluffing," Whumpee said quietly. They watched Whumper.

"Two," Whumper said as Caretaker realized that Whumpee was the one who was bluffing. They could see Whumpee's eyes were a little wide with fear. They were putting on a brave face for Caretaker.

"Whumper, please. Please. I'll give you anything. Carve me up. Just please, leave Whumpee."

"One." Whumper smiled darkly as they pulled the knife from their belt. "Don't say I didn't warn you, Caretaker. This is all your fault."

"WHUMPER!" Caretaker screeched as Whumper cut along Whumpee's collar bone. Whumpee's skin split and blood spilled down their body.

"It's fine," Whumpee hissed as they winced.

"It is not fine! It should be me!" Caretaker shouted.

Whumper raised the knife once more. "It should be, but it isn't. Just remember you did this to Whumpee. You, Caretaker. You did this."

Caretaker didn't know how long they screamed at Whumper. Didn't know how long they begged for Whumpee's life. They knew their throat was raw and voice was raspy. They knew that they had tried to save Whumpee. They just knew it didn't work.

"I warned you, Caretaker," Whumper said as they stepped back to admire Whumpee's bloodied body.

Whumpee stared at Whumper with half-lidded eyes. They struggled to keep on their feet between the slick pools of blood at their feet and blood loss.

"Please, Whumper, please," Caretaker tried one more time.

"Are you going to give me what I want?" Whumper asked as they walked behind Whumpee, fisting Whumpee's hair suddenly. Whumpee struggled weakly in Whumper's arms, their chest heaving as they tried to move.

"I...I don't know. I've been telling you the truth. I don't know what you want!"

"And as I said before, Caretaker. I don't believe this. This is all on you," Whumper said as they brought the knife across Whumpee's throat.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Caretaker screamed as they watched Whumpee sputter and choke on the blood filling their mouth. Whumper chuckled as Caretaker screamed and shouted. Caretaker's voice was one continuous screech as they watched Whumpee's eyes grow empty and their body go limp in the standing cuffs.

"NOOO! WHUMPEE!!!! NOOOOO!" Caretaker sobbed as Whumpee's body swayed on the chain.

"This is all because of you, Caretaker," Whumper said as they fisted Whumpee's hair once more, lifting Whumpee's head up to stare into Whumpee's lifeless eyes. "This could have been avoided if you had just given me what I wanted."

***

Caretaker wasn't sure how many days had passed since they had been rescued. They weren't sure how many days had passed since they had been freed from their restraints and collapsed at Whumpee's feet, begging for forgiveness. They weren't sure how many days had passed since they had been pried away from Whumpee's corpse.

The passage of time didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Whumpee was dead. It was their fault that Whumpee was dead.

"You have to eat, Caretaker," Friend said as they sat at the edge of Caretaker's bed.

Caretaker hadn't gotten out of bed in days. Hadn't eaten in days. Hadn't done anything but lay there and sob. They didn't deserve to eat. It should have been their body hanging on the chain. It should have been their throat that was cut. It should be their funeral that Whumpee was trying to plan.

But it wasn't.

"Please, just eat a little something, Caretaker," Friend tried again.

Caretaker didn't reply. Friend would give up and leave some toast for them. They just wanted to be alone. They didn't deserve sympathy. They didn't deserve help. They didn't deserve anything. They deserved to be dead.

Sure enough, Friend left, setting a plate of toast and a jug of water on Caretaker's nightstand. They squeezed Caretaker's shoulder as they left. Caretaker didn't react. They couldn't react. They couldn't do anything but cry.

Whumpee was dead and it was all their fault.

"You're still alive in my dreams," Caretaker whispered to the empty room. Every time they shut their eyes to sleep, Whumpee was there. Whumpee was alive and well. They wanted to stay there.

"Why can't it be me? I would do anything for it to be me. I wish it was me. I wish I could bring you back."

Caretaker swiped at their eyes. "I'm so sorry. So so so sorry. I'm sorry Whumpee. Please. I wish it was me. I wish you were here. I wish it was me in the morgue. Why can't my dreams be real? Please, Whumpee."

But no matter how much Caretaker talked to the empty room, no matter how much the begged and cried, Whumpee didn't respond. Their dreams did not become real. And Whumpee remained dead.

Tags: @artisticdemon

@mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

[steviewashere]

Laughter Like a Kiss on the Lips

Rating: General CW: Steve Harrington has Lackluster Parents (Not Terrible, But Not Amazing Either) Tags: Established Relationship, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Dialogue Heavy, Making Promises, Reflecting on the Good Parts of Childhood, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Laughter, Tickling, Ticklish Steve Harrington For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is wanting to know everything about what makes up the person you're in love with, even the difficult stuff."

💕—————💕

They’ve been laying on the carpet of Steve’s living room for the better half of an hour. Sprawled, loose, listening to one another breathe. The day’s been a long one. Early work shifts, car breakdowns, a short and resolved argument. It’s just been rough.

Debriefing usually results in this. Silence and floor. Closed eyes and steady chests. But Eddie, the restless jumble of energy he is, begins to hum. Not something he’d usually go after, at least that’s what Steve believes. Isn’t heavy. Isn’t loud or dark or saturated. Light. Effervescent and warm. Like sun rays cascading through a stain glass window.

It’s almost country, funny enough. Again, at least that’s what Steve thinks it is. He’s not the most versed when it comes to music. Sure, he knows about jazz and pop and early rock, blues and all. He’s aware of all that and some more indie things that Robin likes to shove down his throat when they’re driving out somewhere. But Eddie’s not one to steer far from his usual course, so this humming music he’s got going on, it’s new yet welcomed to Steve.

“That’s new,” he points out.

Eddie stops and his head shifts against the carpet, hair lightly scraping. He’s gonna be a frizzy mess, but Steve adores taking care of it at the end of the day. A questioning hum emanates. But neither of them open their eyes.

“The song you got stuck in your head,” Steve notes, “it’s a new one.”

Chuckling, Eddie mumbles, “Ain’t that new.” Steve hears him turn on his side. His voice closer against the shell of his ear, facing towards him then. “Something from when I was growing up.”

“Wayne like country or something?”

Eddie scoffs. “It isn’t country, Stevie. It’s bluegrass. Different kind of folk, babe.” A hand settles on Steve’s chest. His thumb rubs in circles where Steve’s heart is. “‘Nine Pound Hammer’, but it’s Merle Travis’s version. Mom was from eastern Tennessee, the Appalachian region. Lots of folk songs come from the Appalachian people.”

Steve opens his eyes and lolls his head to look directly at Eddie. They softly smile at each other. “She sing that to you?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Eddie murmurs. “More so heard it on her records. She wasn’t the best singer, not to speak ill of the dead. But—“ He sucks his teeth. “—Yeah, she’d sing. Dance to it, too. Dad came from Tennessee, too, but moved up to Indiana when he was a little kid. Didn’t stop him from pursuing a failed music career or women. He sang to her, what she liked, played it on his acoustic.”

Steve hums. “Music is your family’s world, isn’t it?”

Eddie chuckles again. “Well, it got my parents together. And they had me. So, it’s kinda like god in a sense. The life bringer.” He sighs. “What about you, Stevie? Got any songs from your childhood?”

Thinking back, no not really. His parents have always been very distant from one another. Not necessarily away from him, but the crumbling of their marriage lead to the rusting of the bridge that connected the three of them. There isn’t any rich storytelling within the Harrington name either. Nothing like a cute little meeting at a bar on the outskirts of town. Or even something where they went from high school rivals to close friends to lovers and then back to strangers.

No, his parents were forced to meet over a business deal meeting. Forced into a marriage neither of them wanted. And they made love in the dark. Steve was conceived in a dark bedroom where only their stuttered breaths could be heard. And they didn’t look after one another. Didn’t take care of each other, not like Steve does with Eddie and Eddie does with Steve.

So he shrugs. “No,” he answers honestly.

“Really?” Eddie incredulously questions, “Nothing at all?” He sits up on one of his elbows, eyes wide down at Steve. “That feels hard to believe.”

“You wanted to know, so I’m telling you. It’s not a pretty story.”

“What isn’t a pretty story? The birth of some song that reminds you of being a little kid?”

“I don’t—There isn’t anything that takes me back to being a little kid. I hated being a little kid. The story’s ugly anyway.”

“Tell me,” Eddie quietly pleads. “Tell me even if it’s shitty, I wanna know.”

He has to really think hard on this. Still, there’s no music. No movies or plays or anything of that nature. Books felt like an obligation, too, when they were teaching him how to read. There was bible study and church Sundays and his starchy, stiff outfit. His mom and her spit slick thumb and his unruly eating habits. Manners taught and hands slapped.

There’s not much good, unfortunately. But, something nice comes to mind.

“My parents didn’t like each other. I don’t think they really knew how to do that,” Steve starts. “I was just kind of a product of that, I guess. Like I was the trophy to complete their gauntlet. They dated and they bought a house and they got engaged and they got married, they had me. Forced dating, though.” He rests his own palm on the back of Eddie’s hand. Scratching dully at his skin. “But, as much as they hated being near one another, there was this one thing they did constantly. That they included me in on.”

Eddie hums. “Sounds promising,” he whispers. “What’d they do, babydoll?”

Steve squeezes Eddie’s wrist. Pulls away and runs his fingers through the ends of Eddie’s curls. “They did each other’s hair. They did my hair, too.” He eyes the frizz that he knew would eventually make itself known. Raking over the pattern of Eddie’s curls. The rough, choppy cut to his bangs. He adores Eddie’s hair. “It was kinda funny. We’d all be topless—sans like my mom’s bra, y’know because the hair would get on our shirts anyway?—and we’d huddle in the downstairs master bathroom. As big as this house is, that room is fucking small.

“I’d sit on the counter. In my sleep shorts, hands wrapped around the soft tummy of this brown teddy bear my mom got me, socks on my feet. Butt on the edge of the sink. Feet kicking around in the open air. I liked to sit in front of my dad.” His hand gently rests on the side of Eddie’s neck, eyes remaining glued to the spot. He’s never shared this before. Kinda wants to remain lost for a while.

Continues, “He has this very thick handlebar mustache. He’s always had it. And as my mom stood behind him—trimming up the top of his head, raking her fingers through with mousse—he’d take his own shears to his ‘stache. Would shape it up, stretch his lips down, raise his eyebrows in focus.

“It made me laugh. And he’d kinda chuckle. But when he was done?”

Eddie’s still smiling at him. He can feel it. His own face must be doing the same. “What’d he do, sweetheart?”

“He’d set his shears to the side and he’d—“ Steve chuckles. “He’d tickle my ribs! The bastard would turn his attention to me, crinkle up his eyes in sadistic laughter, and shove his fingers in my ribs. It was stupid, but I liked it. And obviously, it made me laugh. I used to honk-squeak. Like super loud.” He takes a deep breath, and on the exhale his smile wisps away from him. “It’s the only time we really laughed together. It’s the only time I felt like—Like I was their kid. Not some object to show off. Now I just do my own hair. I miss that time, those feelings,” he quietly admits.

Above him, Eddie gently coos. A soft sound. But when he finally chances a look, there’s a mischievous glint to his eyes. Mirth. In one swift motion, Eddie is straddling his hips, cold hands under Steve’s t-shirt, rucking the clothing up, and jabbing his fingers into his ribs. 

Steve tries to shove his hands away, but can’t help the way he surrenders. Curling in on himself, smile stretching across his face, nose scrunching with his laughter, the kind of laughter that leaves him gasping and honking and squeaking. Just like it was when he was a little boy. The sensation leaves him breathless and squealing, slapping at Eddie’s chest. Still smiling and wonderful when Eddie relents.

“And there he is,” Eddie whispers. “There’s Steve Harrington. Smiling at me all gorgeous. Can’t believe you’re ticklish, baby. That’s adorable.”

A half-hearted slap lands to the center of Eddie’s chest. “I told you that with confidence. Don’t use it against me.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Eddie swears. “Eye for an eye. I gave you my love for bluegrass, you gave me the joy of your laughter.” He leans down into Steve’s space again. His body yin-yang to his own. A hand petting over Steve’s hair. “You know what we get to do now?”

Steve gives him his own questioning hum.

“We get to combine. Make our own good memories. Tell each other our tainted stories. About your insufferable parents and my criminal dad and my long-gone mom. About your cold house and mine that was consumed by fire. I’ll melt your ice, you’ll douse my fire. And we find you a song that’ll remind you of the start of this. And you take care of the frizz in my hair.” He kisses Steve’s forehead. Murmuring against the skin, “I saw you eyeing my ends. You ain’t discreet.”

In response, Steve laughs once more. He sighs and leans up into Eddie’s space, a soft kiss square on his lips. Pulling away, he whispers, “To new beginnings.”

“And to happily ever afters,” Eddie promises.

💕—————💕

[rainbowfey]

04 Market Day

@flufftober

Shinobu took a last glance at her list before she let her gaze wander over the faces looking at her. She sighed softly as she noticed the mischievous spark in more than one pair of eyes. When she had asked the other Hashira who wanted to accompany her to the market, she had one or two sets of helping hands in mind. After all, they did have quite a long list of things she intended to buy at the market. However, she had not expected nearly every single Hashira to raise their hands at the question who would join in on the market trip. Out of all people, Gyomei was the only one who had politely declined – even though he was the one person she would have liked to accompany her the most. After all, Gyomei was always helpful and kind while not being overly talkative which Shinobu appreciated a lot, seeing that she was not one to chatter a lot either.

But now, she was stuck with a horde of people, all of them eagerly awaiting her signal that they were leaving. With another deep sigh, she tried to fight off her skepticism at Kyoujuro’s and Tengen’s wide grins, Obanai’s annoyed expression and Sanemi’s usual twitching eyelid. While she did have a dreadful inkling of why Sanemi wanted to accompany her, why Giyuu of all people had also joined in was beyond her. Politely speaking, Giyuu was not the kind of person who was good with, well, people. And the market was a place crowded with all kinds of people and, even worse, would host all the Hashira except for one at the same time which was a recipe for disaster as she had to admit to herself. However, she was determined to keep the others on a short leash.

“Let’s go,” she said calmly and to her surprise, all of them followed suit as she now began to walk towards the market, holding on to her shopping list as if it could keep her afloat in the mess that was about to ensue.

For a while, it seemed like she had been mistaken. They made their way to the market without any major incidents, apart from Tengen pushing Kyoujuro into a bush and, of course, the following banter that even Mitsuri joined in on. Shinobu only had to intervene once when Sanemi was about to hit Giyuu over the head with a stick for supposedly tripping him up but to her relief, Sanemi listened to her when she told him to let it go. When they arrived at the market, Shinobu let out a sigh of relief at the sight of her fellow Hashira all still well and breathing. To be entirely honest, she had not expected to even get this far with this assembly of characters around her. Especially not without Gyomei’s calming presence – and his mighty build and massive fists.

But now, they had made it and she smiled unwittingly at the colorful sight unfolding in front of her. The market was bustling with villagers who gleefully meandered through the mass of market stalls and merchants who all praised their goods in the most exuberant ways. One half of the market was filled with merchants that sold groceries while the other half showed off a vibrant assortment of flowers, clothes, everyday objects, various materials and even animals. With a quick glance, Shinobu realized that if she went to get all the things they needed on her own, she would take forever. Thus, she turned to the other Hashira, feeling a mixture of concern and calm before the storm.

She cleared her throat and waited for the chatter to subside. When she was sure, she had the attention of all of them, she raised her shopping list up into the air and said, “We have a lot to do. I’m going to pair you off and give you a short list of what you’ll buy before we meet back here in exactly two hours.”

She paused and waited for protests but surprisingly, nobody raised any objections - which in itself was rather worrying. Slightly unsettled, she started to pair them off. For a moment, she had contemplated whether it was really a good idea to make friends go together but then she thought about sending them off in any other combination and that was enough to make her shudder. Tengen gave Kyoujuro a high five before lifting him off the ground and whirling him through the air when she told them to go together. While ignoring their unrestrained laughter, she turned to Sanemi and pointed to Muichiro. Sanemi stared at her but when he followed her gesture, his face softened almost unnoticeably and he walked up to Muichiro without any protest. With a sigh of relief, Shinobu turned to Mitsuri and returned her warm smile before she told her to go with Obanai, suppressing her grin when she saw both of their faces blushing slightly.

When Shinobu was done telling the others what they were supposed to buy, she had the slight feeling that she had forgotten about someone. She watched as the others walked off, wrecking her brain – and she almost jumped out of her skin when someone behind her suddenly spoke up.

“So, I guess that makes us the last pair?” Giyuu asked quietly and Shinobu had to take a moment to regain her composure before she turned to face him.

“I … yes,” she replied quickly, hoping that he had not noticed that she had kind of forgotten that he even went with them. “Let’s head for the herbs first, shall we?”

A while later, Shinobu started to regret her strategy. At first, it had been a nice change of pace not having to essentially babysit the other Hashira, and even Giyuu turned out to be an almost as pleasant companion as Gyomei was. However, it did not take long for her to spot the first problem. While she walked through the market stalls, bargaining with the merchants for a good deal and afterwards handing the purchases to Giyuu who carried them without complaining, a ruckus somewhere close caught her attention.

“Oh no,” she murmured to herself when she heard a choir of screams that sounded suspiciously like ‘snake’ and ‘please don’t bite me’. She shot Giyuu a glance and saw that he was also staring in this direction. She was about to head for the source of the noise when she heard another set of thumps and surprised outcries. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “You get Obanai and Mitsuri before Kaburamaru decides to actually bite someone,” she said calmly. “And I’ll go check out who’s the problem over there.”

She did not await his confirmation but from the corner of her eye she saw him making his way towards the ‘snake’-screams. She herself turned towards the ever-growing noise in the other direction. Shinobu had not even walked more than ten steps when she saw flashes of yellow and red through the crowd that had formed. She gritted her teeth as she cut her way through the mass of people. And just as she had expected, she quickly spotted Tengen and Kyoujuro who had started another one of their friendly brawls – without noticing the danger they posed to the market stalls and wares around them, though.

When she reached the center of the crowd, she planted herself in front of them, hands on her hips and her most menacing smile on her face. “Uzui, Rengoku,” she hissed. “Cut it out.”

Her tone caught their attention and both of them stopped mid-movement and turned around. When they spotted her, their joyful grins fell from their faces and gave way to a sheepish expression. It almost looked like they woke up from a dream in which nobody apart from them existed. Shinobu felt a muscle in her cheek twitching as she stubbornly kept her smile. “We are leaving. Now.”

She turned on the spot and walked back into the direction where she had seen Giyuu last. Behind her, she heard both of them mumbling apologies to the surrounding merchants and laughter as the crowd finally dispersed.

Relief washed through her when she saw Giyuu’s pale face behind a market stall, accompanied by one pink and green and another black and white figure. And when she listened closely, she noticed that at least the ‘snake’-screams had stopped, so Giyuu had very likely been successful in his task. She was about halfway there when she heard a voice booming over the buzz of the market. Her heart sank when she recognized it. “Uh-oh,” she whispered and it took her all her strength to turn towards the noise.

There, not too far away, she could make out two very familiar silhouettes. One of them was towering over a merchant that had almost crouched into his market stall, very obviously trying to get some distance between him and the man looming over him. Another smaller and petite silhouette grabbed the other’s sleeve and tugged at it, seemingly without any success.

Shinobu’s eyes widened when she saw Sanemi’s shoulders tensing up. She knew she had to be quick if she wanted to prevent further escalation. Without any consideration, she plowed through the people and almost threw herself at Sanemi as he raised his fist in a threatening manner.

She gently pushed past Muichiro and grabbed Sanemi’s wrist right as he was about to do something she would have direly regretted. He whirled around furiously, trying to see who had dared to touch him. When their eyes met, the anger in Sanemi’s face quickly turned into something else and he slowly lowered his fist, not able to meet her eyes any longer.

“Please calm down,” Shinobu said quietly so that nobody but Sanemi could hear her. “It’s not worth it.”

Sanemi stared at the ground for a moment before he slowly breathed out and nodded. But only when she saw his shoulders sinking down as the tension faded from his body did she let go of his wrist, her hand still close so that she could grab hold of him again, should he get angry again. She exchanged a quick glance with Muichiro who returned her look more or less unfazed. And when she was sure that Sanemi had himself under control again, she heaved a deep sigh of relief.

“Let’s go back to the others,” she said softly and ushered Sanemi and Muichiro in their direction. She herself stayed back and apologized profusely to the still terrified merchant. She paid him a generous amount, more than she would have otherwise, but when she left, she still had the unsettling feeling of only narrowly having escaped a catastrophe.

Shinobu’s body felt heavier with each step she took towards the herd of Hashira who all looked at her in varying degrees of bashfulness. A sharp pain started forming behind her temples and the air around her felt thinner than usual as she returned their sheepish gazes.

“I’m sorry, Shinobu,” Mitsuri said quietly as she took a step forward and reached for her. “We should’ve been more careful.”

Shinobu sighed and intertwined her fingers with Mitsuri’s while a contrite looking Kyoujuro quickly relieved her of her most recent purchases. “It’s okay,” Shinobu forced herself to say. “Please just don’t … don’t bring any more trouble upon us.”

Mitsuri nodded eagerly and the others followed suit, with even Obanai’s snake nodding its little head in agreement. Shinobu held their gazes a moment longer before she herself nodded, feeling slightly better. She scanned their faces for any signs of insurgency but now, they all looked as docile as a fluffle of bunnies. But still, she had the nagging feeling that something was wrong.

And with a jolt, Shinobu realized that someone was missing. Her heart sank as she frantically mustered the group in front of her, searching for the one person who had been nothing but supportive today. But she could not find his blue eyes anywhere, neither within the group nor anywhere close. And somehow, this stung even more than the shenanigans of all the others.

“Has any of you seen Giyuu?” she asked, trying desperately to keep her composure.

The others shook their heads one by one and with each of them, her heart got heavier. She felt the storm of emotions gnawing at the seams of her composure and the pain in her temples grew with each passing moment. She tried to calm her breathing and closed her eyes, squeezing them shut for only a single moment of peace. The murmur of the other Hashira seemed grow quieter and she felt Mitsuri’s hand slipping away when she took a few steps backwards.

And then, she felt someone close to her.

“Shinobu?” a soft voice asked.

She kept her eyes shut, wanting to shake her head but her body felt frozen under its own weight.

“I sent the others away,” the voice continued. “It’s okay. You can open your eyes now if you’d like to.”

And Shinobu reluctantly opened her eyes. She blinked in surprise when the familiar sight of the market vanished behind a beautiful assembly of radiant pink and tender shades of purple, embraced by hints of green.

“Coneflowers?” she whispered and incredulously reached out for the wonderful bouquet of flowers in front of her, gently running her fingers over a particularly gorgeous flower.

“Yes,” someone said from behind the bouquet, their voice quiet and almost timid. “I hoped you’d like them.”

Shinobu stared at the flowers mesmerized and slowly, her body started feeling lighter again. “I love coneflowers,” she said softly and looked up at Giyuu’s blue eyes that met her gaze with an uncertain expression. “Thank you.”

Giyuu quickly looked away and handed her the bouquet of flowers. When she took it, her fingers grazed his and when he looked up, she smiled at him. And when Giyuu carefully returned her smile, she finally felt like herself again.

[fisheito]

hiya l'il-- medium?...large?? Assorted Sizes-Guy

oh thanks! i could always use more spices-

. what am i supposed to do with this.

[sil-writes-fiction-too]

Skull Cavern

Harvey x OC/Self-insert!Farmer

Genre: hurt/comfort, a touch of angst with a fluffy ending

CW: bodily harm, injury, blood, gore

A/N: Here's a very late entry for June of Doom, Day 4! This time with the "Does that hurt?" prompt paired with the "Fracture" prompt. This is the very first Stardew Valley one-shot I've ever written so I am quite excited about this. I wrote this with my farmer in mind. She is a mix between a "farmersona" and an OC, and I think I'll write more about her and her life in the Valley in the future. This one-shot is set somewhere between Harvey's four and six heart events. Sil is already more than aware of her feelings for him and Harvey has just recently realized he has a crush on her. She fell first and he fell harder, so to speak. Hope you like it! @juneofdoom

The intense smell of disinfectant is the first thing she feels as she comes back to her senses. She lets out a groan as she slowly tries to open her eyes. The task is made rather difficult by the brightness of the room, which makes her already dry eyes burn even more.

“You're finally awake.” That's enough to finally get her to open her eyes, and when her vision eventually clears she manages to find the source of the tense voice that startled her. “...Doc...?” She asks groggily as she focuses her gaze on the man leaning against the doorway.

Doctor Harvey looks at her seriously, with his hands shoved in the pockets of his white coat as he assesses her general conditions with a quick glance. Sil, the local farmer, is looking rather rough... but it is nothing compared to what she looked like last night, when she was brought into his clinic. It was nothing short of chilling.

She was brought in by Pam somewhere around midnight, the older woman slamming the door open and yelling for him to rush over and help her hold the girl upright. The sight of Sil, bruised and barely hanging onto Pam's shoulder as she winced and grunted in pain, was enough to make his heart sink to the floor. Still, he acted quickly and soon she was laying on one of the beds. Her long, black coat was in tatters and the rest of her clothes had a number of rips and stains onto them. Her pants seemed to have had the worst of it, and the reason became immediately apparent to the doctor. The black fabric was soaked in blood and the skin underneath had clear bite marks into it, like an animal had chomped down on her leg and thrashed around. Moreover... her leg was clearly broken. He knew that to save his mental sanity he should've avoided inquiring, but against his better judgment he asked her what had happened and it took him all he had not to yell at her when she groaned something about “Skull Cavern”.

He could tell she was trying to put on a brave face for him, but he also knew that all that would fly out the window as soon as he reset her bone. And it did. She let out a blood-curdling scream as soon as the bone went back into place... and then it was lights out.

Thinking back on it now still fills him with dread... and it re-stokes his anger. His jaw tightens slightly as he looks at the farmer in silence while she tries to get the fog to finally lift from her mind. It's all still a haze, but as the seconds pass she grows more and more conscious of her surroundings and of what happened last night. Her first instinct when she finally manages to sit up is to reach for her hat, but a disgruntled noise comes out of her as soon as she finds out it's not sitting atop her head as it usually is. A quick glance to the side reveals the cowboy hat is hanging onto a nearby chair like her ruined coat.

“Damn, I'm gonna have to buy a new coat huh...?” She says with a small huff of a chuckle before bringing her gaze back to the doctor, but when she does, her smile drops almost instantly. He is looking at her with anger swirling in his green eyes. “That's what you are worried about? Your coat?” He asks in disbelief before removing his glasses and running a hand over his face as if to try and rub the irritation away, in vain of course. “Your leg is broken, for Yoba's sake! And all of this because you went in those mines again! Did I not tell you to be careful?! Do you have any idea how bad the situation looked last night?! Since you refuse to put a stop to your explorations, the least you could do is to be cautious when you head into those places!”

The farmer doesn't flinch, but she raises her eyebrows in surprise, before slouching her back slightly in what could only be described as shame. Harvey's never raised his voice at her like this before. She suddenly feels like a child that is being scolded by her father for doing something stupid, but this is not her only reason to feel ashamed. It is also because, even though doctor Harvey is yelling at her, she can see the hurt in his eyes. She clearly worried him a great deal, to the point where his patience obviously ran out.

Harvey has been nothing but kind to her since the day she moved to Stardew Valley, even though he was clearly terrified of her when they first met. She couldn't really blame him, given her rather... unapproachable appearance. At first she was definitely not thrilled to make the doctor's acquaintance, considering her rather rocky relationship with medical personnel up until that point, but by the end of her first week in her new home he had already started to grow on her. He was simply so kind and friendly, despite his initial uncertainty and shyness... She couldn't help but be drawn to him, and that sentiment grew rather fast... and kept growing, and growing, until it became clear to her that her simple, innocent infatuation with the town doctor had turned into a full-blown crush. A rather surprising turn of events, considering she had sworn off dating shortly before she left the city to reclaim her grandfather's land... but she still welcomed it. She is certain Harvey must know of her feelings by now, as she made no attempt to hide them, and she is rather confident they are reciprocated, judging by his behavior towards her over the last couple of months. So... knowing she is the reason for his distress right now weighs gravely on her heart. She feels like a moron.

“I'm sorry, you're right... I was way too careless this time around. I... don't know what I was thinking”. A strained smile pulls at her lips as she meets the doctor's eyes again. “I had no intention of scaring ya like that, truly... I just thought I could handle it, ya know? I've gotta do everything by myself up in that farm and... well, damn, things ain't going as smoothly as I hoped”. She lets out a humorless chuckle, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. Harvey doesn't say anything as he looks at her, but he can feel his anger slowly boiling down to a simmer when he notices the sadness in her demeanor. Now that he thinks about it, she did seem a bit weary lately. Paler than usual and always in a rush to get a myriad of jobs done.

Seeing that he has no intention of saying anything, she keeps talking, recognizing that he is leaving her the space to explain herself... unburden herself.

“It's just... a lot. I gave up everything to move here and, granted, life in the city sucked but... I knew what to expect, ya know? Everything had its own place and all I had to do was keep up the routine. I had very little, but it was more than enough to keep me afloat. Here? Hell, every time I earn some money I immediately have to spend it to make sure my farm stays standin', and somehow my duties extend far beyond takin' care of Wysteria Hill! I had no idea that movin' would mean takin' care of the whole town one way or another. The farm business, the requests, the community center... I mean, don't get me wrong! I am more than happy to help! But... keepin' on top of everything has been... hard. I have to put in a lot of extra work to make sure I can keep things runnin' smoothly. I guess my whole focus has been on getting my work done, lately, and it made me... kinda lose track of other things? Like...”

“Like your own health and safety?” Harvey finishes her sentence for her, his voice now far calmer than before. She nods after a moment, not trusting her increasingly quivery voice to answer his question, and he sighs, dropping his shoulders slightly as he steps closer to her bed. “I knew that being the local farmer couldn't be an easy job, but I didn't realize it was weighing down on you this much. I can't imagine the burden it has put on your shoulders, leaving everything behind to start anew here... But still, I must stress the importance of taking care of yourself. A million things could've gone wrong last night and... Gosh, I don't even want to think about it...” he mutters as he shakes his head, averting his gaze from her in his attempt to disperse those haunting thoughts.

Sil swallow thickly, feeling another pang of guilt skewer her heart when she finds herself hoping, wanting for his concern to go beyond a doctor's duty, to stem from something deeper... not knowing that somehow her pining doesn't even come close to comparing to his. She leans towards Harvey and gently reaches for his hand, ignoring the shock of pain shooting up her leg when she doesn't move carefully enough. “I'm sorry Harv. I promise I won't be as careless as last night ever again. I don't want ya to be sad because of me. Never. I can't tell ya I'll never go down there again... but I promise I'll always do so with the goal of comin' back out safe and sound, rather than with my pack full of extra materials.” She smiles at him as reassuringly as possible, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb.

The tender gesture is uncharacteristic of her, and he knows it very well. Friendly as she is, she still very much doesn't appreciate people being in her personal space, so for her to initiate physical touch like this... it must mean something, right? It's his turn to gulp now, as he feels his face growing embarrassingly warm at that thought. He wanted to scold her again for refusing to give up on her excursions once more, but all he can do now, after noticing her little wince of pain when she leaned in to grab his hand, is sigh in acceptance and let his face soften once more as he gently squeezes her smaller hand. “Does that hurt?” He asks kindly while glancing at her leg. The wound was frightening when he first saw it, but he is more than confident in her ability to heal now that it's all patched up and that her bone is properly set.

She smiles at him, visibly relaxing when she realizes he is no longer angry at her. “Ah, it ain't nothing I can't handle, doc. You really worked your magic on me, as usual. I barely feel a thing.” She reassures him with a grin, winking at him jokingly as she adds “You're like my very own guardian angel.”

Harvey almost scoffs at her, more out of embarrassment rather than full-blown dissent. He can't deny that hearing her say something like that feels... very good. “Okay, now you are just trying to butter me up.” He mutters as he raises an eyebrow at her, making her grin widen even more and her eyes twinkle with mischief. “Well... is it working?” The flirtatious tone in her voice almost makes him choke as he stumbles over his own words. “You - you are far too pleased for somebody who is supposed to be feeling sorry right now!” He manages to exclaim with a huff, before pouting at her. Despite his embarrassment, the sound of her laughter makes his heart jump in his chest.

“I'm sorry doc, I can't help it when ya look at me like that...” She chuckles softly, her eyes crinkling in a way that simply makes him melt. Yoba... he is so glad she is here with him.

[fairyniceyeah]

💎🍚Day 4: "Does that hurt?"

Impalement/Fracture/Punishment

@juneofdoom

Day 3: "Please don’t leave me" - Alternate

Summary: While camping Woozi steps onto a tent peg.

CW: blood, injury, fainting, mentions of nausea

Whumpee: Woozi Caretakers: mainly Joshua, Seungcheol + Hoshi

Joshua is woken up in the middle of the night by a loud, pained scream. He sat up, startled and confused, and most of all, very worried. Next to him Seungcheol and Jeonghan shot up, nearly colliding with each other, looking adorably smushed and sleepy.

“You heard that too?”, Joshua asked and the other two nodded. 

As realization overcame tiredness, they all scrambled to open the tent and find out what had happened. They were in the middle of nowhere, not even staff close. They had gotten a week off and co-depended as they were, they had decided to honor their maknae-line’s (well, all except for Mingyu’s) pleas to go camping. 

Even Woozi, hating the outside more than anything, and Mingyu, who was scared of bugs and complained he never fit into tents with his height, had reluctantly agreed. 

Seungcheol, using his broadness as an advantage and led by what Vernon called his “leader-tingle” managed to get out first, pushing Jeonghan to the side in the process. Joshua shivered as a fresh breeze came in from the flapping entrance fabric but also pushed past the stunned Jeonghan to get out and see for himself what one of their dongsaengs had done to themselves.

He was busy ducking through the entrance as he heard Seungcheol gasp and exclaim loudly: “Jihoon-ah, oh my God.” 

Stumbling outside, Joshua found Seungcheol’s silhouette kneeling on the ground by what was their producer’s small frame, arms raised like he didn’t know what to do. Another shiver went down Joshua’s spine but this time not of cold but of fear. Seeing Seungcheol helpless was always terrifying.

There were commotions coming from the other tents as well and, blessedly, somebody finally had the brain power to turn on a flashlight. It not only illuminated the inside of the tent but also showed a sight that would haunt Joshua for a long time to come.

Jihoon’s foot was impaled straight-through by a tent peg, the metal glistening in the low light. The appendage was bent in such a way that Joshua suspected that he had stumbled from the shock of the pain and in the process had fallen, causing his ankle to snap - forced down straight by the peg and pulled into a different direction by the fall.

Seeing Seungcheol look back at him, silent panic in his eyes, had Joshua moving and kneeling beside them. As he came closer he saw that already much of the ground surrounding Jihoon was soaked red, a shiny puddle of life in the moonlight. Jihoon himself was laying on his side, fallen awkwardly, and he was paler than they had ever seen him. Sweat was pouring down his face and Joshua could hear his shallow, gasping breaths. Joshua reached out a hand and Jihoon gripped it like his life depended on it, likely trying to transfer some of the pain via self-inflicted pressure.

“What’s going on?”, Seungkwan called from the tent he shared with Minghao and Jun. 

“Jihoon-hyung?”, Mingyu called, sleepily. He had been sharing with the tiny producer, apparently for the benefit of space. Even while looking half-asleep he managed to look concerned.

Jeonghan had managed to crawl his way out of their tent and ran over, nearly tripping over a guyline.

“Stop”, Joshua yelled, “nobody move until we have more light.”

He couldn't let anybody else get hurt.

Maybe they were startled by their gentle hyung yelling orders or maybe they decided that it was too deep in the night to question it, but then Hoshi came out of his tent, wearing a headlamp, followed by Dino and Wonwoo. Seungkwan, Jun and Minghao used the flashlight and their phones to light up the area. DK and Vernon, sharing the last tent, were both awoken by the voices and showed up with their headlamps as well.

Multiple gasps rang through the silence, seeing their smallest member injured and bleeding on the ground. It was a grotesque sight and Joshua couldn’t fault Wonwoo who gagged as he took everything in. It was terrifying to see a member so horribly hurt, so visibly hurt. They had all had their fair shares of illnesses and injuries - a tribute to their dancing and idol lifestyle - but like this? Never. It didn’t help that Jihoon, who never really wanted to be coddled or hugged by them, was now clutching Joshua’s hand in a death grip and looked so frail, so child-like on the ground. He seemed even younger now than the small, angry boy they had met pre-debut.

With Seungcheol panicked and Jeonghan frozen, Joshua decided to take action. 

“Jun, Jeonghan, take Wonwoo, DK and Hansol to the side. They don’t need to see. Dino, go find towels, all of them. Seungkwan, try calling the managers and, if you can’t, call the emergency line. We definitely need an evac for Jihoon-ah. Minghao, Mingyu, we need the first-aid-kit. It should be in our tent. Hoshi, come here”, he ordered. 

After a short pause he added: “If any of you don’t think you can do this or if you at one point realize you can’t, there is no shame in it. Just say it.” He hoped it never came to that but this wasn’t just a cold or a sprain - this was very serious and Joshua knew it wasn’t his right to force anybody to help if they couldn’t handle it.

But there was determination burning in every gaze, all of the ones he had given a task ready to help. The ones he had suspected that they couldn’t handle it - like Wonwoo with his hemophobia -  looked relieved but guilty at the same time. That was Jun’s and Jeonghan’s problem to fix. Joshua and Seungcheol had a bleeding dongsaeng on their hands. Quickly everybody scattered to help or get out of the way.

Sonnyoung fell to his knees by Jihoon’s head, stroking his sweaty hair back. “Oh, baby”, he whispered, “does it hurt?”

It was a stupid question, really. Jihoon looked like he was barely holding onto consciousness. But then he gasped out: “No, you idiot, it’s just a slight … yes, it fucking hurts. God, it hurts so bad.” It was a relief for all who heard him to know that even now he was up to his joking snappishness.

“I know, I know”, Joshua said, squeezing Jihoon’s hand in comfort, “we’re already calling for help. Try to stay with us, okay?”

Jihoon nodded weakly, then moved to look at his foot. Immediately, Soonyoung placed his hand over the younger man’s eyes. “You don’t need to see”, he said. It was probably better that way, if Jihoon freaked out the situation would get even worse. Gently, Soonyoung lifted Jihoon’s upper body into his lap, soothing the pained cries. It hurt, it hurt so much, to see strong-willed Jihoon reduced to these animalistic groans. But Joshua forced himself into caretaker-mode.

“Cheollie?”, Joshua asked, placing a hand on the frozen leader’s shoulder, “can you do this? If not, go.”

Seungcheol, apparently shaken from his stupor, shook his head. He was pale and still looked so frightened but he would always do what was needed for his kids. ”I’m good. Sorry.”

Joshua decided to leave it at that and focused on Chan who ran over with his arms full of various towels. “Here you go you, hyung”, he said, eyes nervously moving to look at Jihoon, who was crying silent tears in Soonyoung’s arms, too exhausted and in too much pain to have enough strength to sob.

“Thank you, Dino-yah”, Joshua said, “you did well. Go find Jun and Jeonghan now, please. No more running, we don’t need more injuries.” Eyes wide with fright, the maknae nodded and made his slow, careful way to where the others were huddled in a pile.

“Jihoon-ah?”, Joshua said, already dreading what he was about to do. “I need to wrap the towels around your foot and put pressure on the wound, okay? It’s going to hurt, I know, but you got Soonyoung-ah with you, alright?”

“Can’t … can’t you take it out, hyung?”, Jihoon gasped. His eyes were open wide, pupils blown with fear and shock - a frightening sight on his youthful face. 

“No, baby, I’m sorry. You might bleed too much. I think there are some major veins and arteries in the foot and the peg is keeping the blood in. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Jihoon nodded, burying his face in Soonyoung’s stomach. Soonyoung, who was crying silently in support, just held him tighter.

Then Joshua did what he had avoided until now. One look at the injury had his stomach turn. The tent peg seemed to have been broken and the tip was sharp enough to have ripped Jihoon’s skin and muscles open and fractured the bones in his foot. There was blood everywhere, running about at an alarming speed. But since Jihoon’s foot had slipped down to the ground there was no space to wrap a towel below it, like Joshua had intended.

“Cheollie, can you, uh, can you move away the earth under his foot so we can place some towel below it? I’ll keep his foot steady”, Joshua whispered, ignoring the part of his mind that was scared that this would end up with Jihoon getting hurt too much to recover.

Seungcheol, to his credit, just nodded and sunk his fingers into the dirt the moment Joshua held onto the toes of Jihoon’s foot and his calf. There was no way he could touch the injured ankle without causing even more pain to Jihoon. His left hand was quickly slick with blood.

“How did this happen, baby?”, Joshua asked, hoping it would distract the young man a bit. Besides, he was morbidly curious and the emergency services would want to know when they arrived. “Why were you even up?”

“I needed to piss”, Jihoon mumbled, voice barely audible between his quietness and hiding, “and I didn’t think to put on shoes or bring a torchlight. I know it’s stupid. I told you, I hate camping.”

“I know you do”, Joshua agreed and mumbled under his breath: “Me too.”

“Shua? Think you can get a towel between there?”, Seungcheol asked. He had been much faster than anticipated but then again, the earth was not as dry as it should have been and Joshua really didn’t want to think about the reason.

“Yeah”, he said after a second of evaluation. He grabbed the first towel from the stack but before he could start, Mingyu, Minghao and Seungkwan appeared beside them.  

“Minghao, hand me the disinfectant. Mingyu, I need you to hold Jihoon’s leg so he doesn’t try to move. Seungkwan?”, Joshua said without greeting or sparing them a glance. He couldn’t get distracted and accidentally hurt Jihoon more. 

As Mingyu sat to hold Jihoon down and Minghao started rummaging in the huge bag, Seungkwan said: “Manager-hyung is calling for forest evac. They will likely send a helicopter.”

“Good”, Joshua said and then, “thanks. Minghao, can you pour the disinfectant on Jihoon-ah’s foot on the count of three? Mingyu and I will hold him. Cheollie, go wash your hands somehow.”

Seungcheol stood up, staring at his bloody and dirtied hands in horror, stumbling a bit. Then he fled the scene rather hurriedly. Vaguely Joshua was aware of the sound of retching from his direction but he ignored it in favor of focusing on Jihoon. The producer needed the most care right now.

“Minghao is gonna disinfect your foot now, Jihoon-ah”, Joshua explained, “try not to move, it will hurt, but please try not to move, baby. It will just hurt more.” Jihoon nodded, whimpering and fisting his fingers in Soonyoung’s sweater. 

“One, two, three.”

Jihoon’s foot twitched a bit but Mingyu and Joshua were able to keep him from injuring himself further. Instead, the producer went slack, muscles relaxing. 

“He passed out”, Soonyoung said, probably having felt it first. He had tears running down his face but kept rubbing Jihoon’s back. It was a relief, if Joshua was honest with himself. He didn’t know how long they could have sat by while he suffered from the incredible pain.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised”, Minghao said quietly, “that stuff is awful. Shua-hyung, do you need my help? Otherwise, I’d look for a blanket, I think he is slipping into shock.”

“That is a good idea, Hao”, Joshua agreed, not even having thought about that particular danger, “Mingyu, can you take over my position of holding his foot?”

Careful, Joshua wrapped towel upon towel around Jihoon’s foot, using more force to tie them than he would have otherwise thought necessary. But Jihoon was losing an awful amount of blood and the pressure would help. Stabilizing the peg was another priority, it likely wouldn’t get taken out until surgery, so it needed to hold still where it was. With the last towels he wrapped the swollen ankle, hoping it wasn’t broken or fractured. No matter what, Jihoon would suffer from this for a long time

“What do we do now?”. Seungkwan broke the silence they all fell into after Joshua had tied the last knot, for the first time really realizing what had happened and what they had done.

“We wait”, Hoshi answered, grimly. Over the horizon the sun started to rise.

As they sat together, lost in thoughts, Seungcheol having returned not long after, Joshua noticed something happening over with the other members but he trusted Jeonghan and Jun to take care of it. He didn’t want to leave Jihoon’s side. Occasionally one of them would squeeze Jihoon’s hand or feel his pulse or adjust the blanket. Little things to keep them occupied. 

While Minghao, Mingyu and Seungkwan had all started to sniffle soon after they were done, holding onto each other and Soonyoung in comfort, Joshua felt strangely numb. The soft feeling of Seungcheol’s rough palm in his way was the only thing he really registered other than the steady heart-beat he felt in Jihoon’s wrist.

Finally, the sound of helicopter blades whirring through the air rang over the forest and soon after it appeared in the sky. Their tent area, while in a clearing, had no real space for the helicopter to land. Seungkwan, Mingyu and Minghao went to wave at it, drawing the attention of the people on board and it landed somewhere close by.

A few minutes later paramedics appeared, carrying a stretcher between them, and rushed to meet them. As they inspected the injuries, they congratulated Joshua on doing everything right.

He felt no pride, no happiness, only overwhelming relief. 

“Let me come with you”, he begged and they nodded. As they carried Jihoon off, having managed to get the peg out of the dirt without worsening the bleeding, the managers’ cars drove up. Grasping Jihoon’s hand in his, Joshua followed the medics to the helicopter, leaving the members in the managers’ care.

As they rose into the air, Jihoon blinked open his eyes weakly, squeezing Joshuas’s hand.

“Hyungie?”, he whispered, “promise I never have to go camping again?”

Joshua laughed, feeling free of the burden of responsibility at last. “I promise.”

Day 5: "It's not as bad as it looks."

Masterlist link: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's June of Doom 2024  

[reubyrd]

Whumptober No. 4

Prompt: Shock | “You in there?”

tags: Jegulus, hurt/comfort, shock (obviously), cuddles

a/n: the creative block has been real, and a little hurt/comfort was the perfect way to get out of it. This is fluffier than intended but what can you do.

Regulus spills out of James’ floo and collapses into James' waiting arms.

James has been pacing in front of his fireplace for hours, vibrating with worry and anxiety, so he doesn’t have to lunge far to catch Regulus before he eats the hardwood. James wants nothing more than to squeeze Regulus tightly enough to convey every single drop of worry and love and relief, but he can’t. Not yet. He has to make sure Regulus is okay first.

He moves Regulus to the closest couch to sit him down and check him over. “Are you hurt?”

Regulus doesn’t respond, his fingers curled lightly into the crooks of James’ elbows as he slumps forward.

“Regulus, hey.” James uses one hand to steady his shoulders and the other to push Regulus’ curls away from his eyes. “You in there?”

Regulus’ skin is clammy when James tilts his head up to look at his eyes. His pupils are blown wide and his gaze is unfocused, staring right at James without seeing him.

James’ stomach drops, but he breathes out a soothing, “Okay, it’s okay. You’ll be okay.” James runs his hands over Regulus, from his shoulders down his torso to his arms. He doesn’t find any injuries or blood, so he moves on to removing Regulus’ overrobes. He checks as he goes, but whatever happened to Regulus hasn’t left any visible marks.

Regulus doesn’t notice when James pulls away just long enough to kick off his shoes. He doesn’t react when James lifts his unresponsive legs up onto the cushions and climbs onto the couch behind him. James leans against the armrest and tugs until Regulus’ back is settled against his chest, then waves his wand to cast a simple diagnostic spell. He’s become worryingly good at it since Regulus came to him a month ago.

The spell comes back clean, no injury or lingering curses, just the aftereffects of whatever's happened. It’s a small relief, but it’s all James has. He sets his wand aside so he can hold Regulus as tightly as he’d wanted to earlier.

“You’ll be okay,” James says into Regulus’ hair.

Regulus’ only response is his breathing, quiet and a little shallow but still steady.

“It’s just shock,” he explains, his thumb stroking lightly against Regulus’ shoulder. He keeps murmuring a soothing stream of nonsense and reassurances, moving one hand up to Regulus’ throat where he can feel the rapid beat of his pulse. He doesn’t know how much time passes, just that he’s getting drowsy by time Regulus stirs.

“James?” he says softly, his voice worryingly hoarse.

“I’m here,” James says, cheek still pressed into Regulus’ curls.

Regulus is silent for a long moment, shifting again. He tucks his hands into James’ elbows, and James can feel how cold they are through his sleeves.

This, of course, is not allowed, so James takes the hand that had been monitoring Regulus’ pulse, smiling at the noise of complaint that follows, and grabs his wand to summon a blanket from across the room. He catches it easily, partially sitting up to drape it over the two of them. Once he’s satisfied he slumps against the armrest again and goes back to cuddling Regulus as tightly as possible.

Regulus doesn’t even pretend to complain about it, twisting his cold hands into James’ sleeves again. “How did I get here?” he asks quietly.

James stomach flips again. “The floo,” he tells him. “You don’t remember?”

Regulus sighs. “No.”

At least he still got here, James thinks. “What happened?”

Regulus takes long enough to reply that James thinks he won’t. “Bellatrix is getting more creative with her punishments,” he says eventually, and his grip on James’ sleeves tightens.

James tries not to choke on the onslaught of images his mind conjures. “Regulus…”

“I’m fine,” Regulus lies, and he doesn’t sound irritated, just tired.

“No, you’re hurt,” James corrects, he slumps down further against the couch so he can prop up his knees, bracketing Regulus between them like he can shield him from the world with his body alone. “And I really hate when you’re hurt.”

Regulus sighs. He doesn’t argue, but it doesn’t matter because they’ve already had this argument a dozen times. It always ends the same. Instead, Regulus asks, “Did you get the cup?”

“Yeah, I got it.” James grimaces. Being near slivers of You-Know-Who’s shredded soul always makes him feel contaminated and dirty. “We’ll destroy it tomorrow.”

“Just one left,” Regulus murmurs, his voice muffled with encroaching sleep. “Then it’s over.”

James hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to Regulus’ temple. “Sleep, Reg. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

James listens to Regulus’ breathing calm completely and even out, hoping with everything he has the Regulus is right and this will all be over soon.

[moondusted-ao3]

Whumptober Day 4 - Hallucinations

This is my post for Day 4 of Whumptober 2024 - Hallucinations, Sensory Deprivation

"Of course. The walls of the cell were completely soundproof. How could Peter have forgotten that? A bomb could go off outside, and he would have no idea. Being without his sight or hearing must be taking a toll on him if he was starting to hallucinate already. Peter curled back into a ball, shaking with silent sobs. He'd been through worse; he wasn't even being tortured yet. Not really. He just had to hold on until his family got here. He just had to hold on."

Ao3 Link

Warnings: None

Fandom: Marvel (Spider-Man)

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Word Count: 2659

     Peter Parker sat in the corner of the cell, arms wrapped around his legs, eyes straining to see in the pitch blackness. It felt like he'd been in this cell for months, but it must have only been hours. Everything was pitch black, and the room was soundproofed even to his enhanced senses. The walls were padded with some kind of fabric that absorbed any sound he made, and the room was so quiet he could hear his own heartbeat.

     There was nothing to do except sit with his thoughts, and he passed the time by imagining the Avengers coming to save him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost see Mr. Stark now, blasting down the door with his repulsor and swooping in to be the hero. Actually… Peter strained his ears, trying to hear the faintest sound outside the soundproofed walls.

     Was that the sound of a repulsor in the distance? The longer he listened, the more sure he was that he could hear the sounds of fighting outside the door. If he focused, he could almost see the edges of the cell shaking. Help was coming; the Avengers were here! They must be about to break down the door! Peter knew it wouldn't be long before his mentor realized he was missing and came to get him. Footsteps echoed in his ears, heavy metal boots stomping down the hallway. They came to his door and… stopped. No matter how hard he strained, he couldn't hear a sound. Not even the faintest hum.

     Of course. The walls of the cell were completely soundproof. How could Peter have forgotten that? A bomb could go off outside, and he would have no idea. Being without his sight or hearing must be taking a toll on him if he was starting to hallucinate already. Peter curled back into a ball, shaking with silent sobs. He'd been through worse; he wasn't even being tortured yet. Not really. He just had to hold on until his family got here. He just had to hold on.

     Peter was walking home from school when his Spider-Sense pinged danger nearby. When he subtly glanced around, his eyes caught on two men in black suits on the other side of the street. One of the men made eye contact with him and frowned, leaning to mutter something into his partner's ear. Whatever these men wanted, his Spider-Sense knew it wouldn't be good. Luckily, he'd been taking "spy lessons" with Natasha and Clint. Those lessons were paying off now, he'd been taught how to lose a tail.

     Thinking fast, he quickly ducked into a crowd of people walking in front of him, slipping through them with a polite "Excuse me." as he nudged past. The moment he lost sight of the men, he ducked into an alley and pressed against the wall. The two men in suits walked by the opening a few moments later, angrily looking around. He pushed himself tighter to the wall as they looked down the alley. Frozen in fear, he held his breath until the men walked by, sighing in relief when they disappeared.

     A few moments passed before he could convince his feet to move and start back towards the street. His Spider-Sense pinged again, and something sharp dug into his neck. He quickly reached up and pulled out… a dart? It must have been drugged, his vision began darkening around the edges and a bout of vertigo almost knocked him off his feet. He tried to make a break for the exit to the alley, but his knees buckled before he could take a single step. A woman stepped out of the shadows, gait confident as she strode towards him. The darkness in his vision grew rapidly, but he faintly heard her say "Target acquired, bringing it in now." before he slipped into unconsciousness.

     Out of sheer boredom (and stress), Peter had taken to literally climbing the walls. Pacing laps around the floors, the walls, and the ceiling, counting his steps, was pretty much his only form of entertainment. Twenty steps to each wall, seven to touch the roof. The auditory hallucinations hadn't stopped, and his hopes were constantly rising with the sounds of distant repulsor blasts, only to be shattered when reality kicked in.

     What must have only been a few days of captivity felt like years. Years of no light, no sound, no interaction with any living thing. The door hadn't opened since he'd been thrown in here, and the lack of food and water was beginning to take a toll. His muscles were weakening by the minute, and his enhanced metabolism was acting against him. Usually, he would eat almost three times the amount of food a baseline human consumed and still be hungry. Now, with nothing else to eat, his stomach felt like it was planning on consuming itself.

     Peter sighed and dropped from the ceiling, carefully walking to the corner of the room, one arm extended to feel the soft padding of the walls in the darkness. Collapsing to the floor, he decided it was time to get some sleep. As he slowly drifted off to sleep, he did his best to ignore the sound of clanging metal and fighting outside his door. Logically, he knew it was just another hallucination, if only someone could tell that to his heart.

     Splinters flew across the room as the door burst open. Startled awake, eyes wide and heart hammering, Peter's eyes flew to the door. The light flooding in from the hallway blinded him briefly, and he had to squint to make out the form standing in the doorway. When his eyes adjusted, he saw the silhouette of Iron Man illuminated. "Mr. Stark?" His throat was dry and his voice cracked from disuse.

     "Hey, kid." The armor spoke. Peter sobbed, throwing himself towards his mentor with tears in his eyes. "Mr. Stark! You came! You reall-" Peter slammed into the wall, bouncing back and landing hard on the ground. Utterly confused and heartbroken, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. Pitch blackness surrounded him, the wall unbroken. Peter screamed, sobbing and wailing into the dark, his cries muffled by the soundproof walls. "Please, please come get me." he pleaded as unconsciousness claimed him again.

     Peter blinked awake, wincing against his pounding headache. Icy fear ran through him when he realized he couldn't move, his arms and legs restrained to a chair with thick metal cuffs. No matter how hard Peter strained, his enhanced strength couldn't break the cuffs. Giving up on the restraints for the moment and attempting to distract himself from impeding panic, he scanned the room.

     The walls around him were stark white, tables covered what looked like medical equipment and papers scattered around, and screens next to him that looked like they were showing scans of his body. His shirt was missing, and several electrodes had been attached to his chest, wires leading to machines nearby. As he turned his head, he could feel wires tugging from even more electrodes attached to his forehead. Craning his neck, he could barely see tall metal claws that reached up and supported what looked like a giant metal circle.

     Just as the panic began to take hold, the door in front of him opened. Several people in white coats walked in, a familiar woman leading the group. It was the same woman who had shot him with the drugged darts in the alley. She wore the same white coat as the others, and as he looked her over, he saw a small pin on her collar. A small circle pin with a skull and tentacles. Hydra. Fear flooded his body, adrenaline making his hands shake. She smirked. "Hello, Spiderman."

     They knew his secret identity. A sense of impending doom set in, and he took a deep breath to attempt to calm his racing heart. Surely Mr. Stark would realize he was missing soon and come find him. He just had to stall. Licking his dry lips, he put on a mockingly cheerful grin. "Me? Spiderman? I'm flattered, but I think you have the wrong guy."

     "Snarky, aren't you? Just like your father." Did these people know his father? Peter's confusion must have shown on his face, because the woman sighed. She picked up a folder off a table, opened it up, and showed him the contents. It was full of pictures of him and Mr. Stark. There were pictures of them at a restaurant, one of him ruffling Peter's hair, and even a picture of them working on the Iron Man suit in Mr. Stark's private labs. "My dad? You've got it all wrong. I'm just his intern. I'm not even sure he remembers my name."

     She sighed, closing the folder. "Lying to us is a very bad idea, Mr. Parker. You'll learn that soon enough. We have big plans for you." She gestured to the men, who began messing with the machines beside him. Peter's heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, and his hands began to shake. "W-what are you doing?"

     The woman smiled. "We're going to make you better. You're going to be our perfect weapon. And then, you're going to kill the Avengers." The men pressed buttons on their machines, and the metal ring descended to clamp on his head. Peter opened his mouth to try and stall, but all that came out was a scream as a shock of electricity burned through his skull. Pure agony coursed through his entire body as he seized and shook, clenching his jaw to stop himself from screaming. The machine paused for a brief moment and he gasped for air before it started up again. All thoughts fled his mind; all he could feel was pain. It continued for what felt like hours but could have only been minutes, streams of electricity flooding him in bursts. When it finally stopped, all Peter could do was heave for air. He shook his head to try and clear the fog that had settled in.

     "How are the readings?" The doctor asked, stepping closer to look at the screens. She frowned at whatever she saw. One of the men stepped forward, angling his screen so she could see. "His healing power is extraordinary. His brain is healing almost as fast as we can erase it. It must be double the Winter Soldier's. The machine isn't going to work, not without increasing the electricity, which could kill him."

     Sighing, the woman turned to look at Peter, slumped in his chair. "You will obey us, one way or another." Peter lifted his chin and looked her in the eyes in defiance. Coughing, his voice hoarse from his screams, he rasped "I'll die first."

     "No, little spider, you won't. But you'll be begging for death when I'm done with you." Turning back to the men, she gestured towards Peter. "Throw him in the pit. Maybe some time in the dark will soften him up." Peter fought as they uncuffed him, struggling as best he could, but the aftershocks of the electricity still coursed through him. Helpless, he allowed himself to be dragged away.

     Peter was huddled in the corner, hands pressed so tightly over his ears that it began to hurt. The sounds of fighting echoed inside his head. Every repulsor blast made his heart jump in hope, but they were never real. Visual hallucinations were becoming more and more common. Mr. Stark bursting into his cell to save him was a regular hallucination, and he broke a little bit more every time it appeared.

     Every time he saw Iron Man break down the door, Peter would run to him, sobbing, and every time, Mr. Stark would disappear right as Peter jumped into his arms. If his captors opened the door right now, he would fall to his knees and beg them for any interaction at all. Torture would be better than this. He didn't know how much more he could take. How many times he could fling himself into his mentor's arms, only to have him taken away again. He was so dehydrated he couldn't even cry, only dry sobs escaping him.

     Outside the walls, the faintest sounds of fighting echoed. Gunfire sounded, making Peter flinch and press his hands even harder over his ears. He rocked back and forth, muttering, "It isn't real, it isn't real, it isn't real."The door burst open again, the silhouette of Iron Man once again burning itself into his retinas. Sobbing louder, Peter closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his legs. He buried his face in his knees, trying his best to ignore the footsteps approaching him.

     "Hey, kid." Peter couldn't stop himself from looking up at the sound of Mr. Stark's voice. Even though, logically, he knew this wasn't real, he couldn't stop himself from wishing. He couldn't stop himself from hoping. And every time he finally let his guard down and allowed himself to believe that this time, it was real, the hallucination ended.

     "Are you alright? Peter? Are you hurt?" Mr. Stark's voice sounded frantic as he stepped out of the armor, reaching out. Peter flinched, throwing himself away from his mentor. "Don't touch me! Please, please don't touch me. I don't want you to go. I don't want to be alone anymore." He sobbed, voice dry and hoarse from disuse. His eyes were wide, and he couldn't stop staring at the man. He knew that the moment he looked away, Mr. Stark would disappear, and he would be alone in the dark.

     "Kid, we're here to get you out. I'm sorry we took so long. You're not alone anymore. We're gonna take you home. " Mr. Stark's voice was thick with emotion, quiet and calm as if speaking to a wounded animal. "I promise you're safe now."

     Sobbing, Peter closed his eyes. "I keep seeing you coming to get me. Over and over and over I keep seeing you save me, and it isn't real. It's never real. I want to go home!" Peter shouted, hugging himself. "I just wanna go home…"

     "I'm real, Peter. I promise I'm real. I'm here." Slowly reaching toward Peter, he gently whispered reassurance as he stepped closer. "It's okay. I'm here to take you home." Peter's face was filled with resignation and despair as he watched Mr. Stark's hand descend. It looked like he was watching his incoming death, not his mentor coming to save him. He closed his eyes as Mr. Stark stepped closer, not wanting to see him disappear again.

     He gasped when the man's hand met his shoulder, incredibly warm against his freezing skin. "Mr. Stark?" He breathed, eyes opening wide and filling with hope. His mentor just nodded, and Peter lept from the floor, wrapping himself around Mr. Stark and burying his head in his shoulder. He shook with silent, dry sobs, and his mentor just held him tighter. They stood there for what seemed like hours, only interrupted when Captain America's voice echoed out of the Iron Man suit. 

     "You have the kid, Stark? We're getting swamped up here!" Mr. Stark started to move, and Peter panicked and held even tighter. "We gotta go, Underoos. I'm not leaving you, I promise. I'll never leave again." Peter flinched but nodded and slowly let go of Mr. Stark, terrified that he would disappear. His heart almost stopped when he let go, and it felt like time stood still for a moment until he realized that his mentor was still there and grinned.

     "Alright, let's blow this popsicle stand." Mr. Stark grinned back, stepping into his suit and heading to the door, checking behind him to make sure Peter was still following. It was as if the weight of the sky left Peter's shoulders the moment his feet hit the hallway, and the sheer force of his relief could have moved mountains. Finally, he was going home.

Thank you so much for reading!! Please let me know what you thought :D

[writing-whump]

I love your OCS! Can I request something where Matthew is sick, but it's not his shadow, is just some good ol' human tummy bug and he's all over the place not knowing what to do? With Seline as caretaker? - 🎃

Aww thank you for the request, nonnie! My first for the werwolf story, I'm so excited. Here you go.^^

Contains emeto and mentions of scat.

Stomach flu

Seline wasn’t sure how or when it happened that Matthew now accompanied her from classes back home, but somehow it had become routine before she even realized. Since the day he stumbled upon her and pretty much tore himself to pieces with his shadow to protect her from a random threat, he basically made it his mission to be around in the afternoon hours. How it fit his schedule, she had no idea. Somehow he was simply there - and she suspected he didn’t follow his classes nearly as reliably as he did hers.

So she didn’t wonder or say anything. She didn’t feel obligated to make herself especially available - it wasn’t as if she invited him over - but she didn’t protest his presence. But evenings suddenly became their evenings, with her sitting by the central dining table connected to the living room, working on her laptop and Matthew dozing on her couch or flipping through her Netflix account. When she was done studying or no inspiration came to her for new songs - self-made songs were the most effective for magic - she would sit a few meters away beside him and watch as well. 

Seline only realized how much of a routine it had become when something disturbed it. Like today.

Matthew was restless. He was shifting on the couch like he was sitting on a bee hive and he had that angry scowl on his face she associated with difficult days with his shadow. Except he was cautious with his shadow around her - they didn’t have an incident inside her apartment. As if her defensive magic woven into the floor now worked more in his favour, clearing his mind. Which was a good thing, natural thing, since witches usually provided comfort and calmness to their wolves. But they weren’t a pack and she wasn’t his witch or he her wolf - here they were just two students, bounded by a secret they never talked about. Somehow it mattered very little here and she liked it that way. 

Seline was biting her lip, looking up from her laptop occasionally. She wanted to ask him what was wrong but didn’t know how well he would take it. Maybe the best she could do was give his discomfort privacy, no matter what it was.

Suddenly Matthew stood up, expression drawn and uncomfortable, hand on his belly. Then he bolted to the bathroom. Seline watched him go, concerned.

She watched out for gagging noises, but none of that came. Maybe she was reading too much into this. Would he tell her if he was sick? Wolf and witch relationships aside, if her stomach bothered her, she would rather die of emberassment than admit it. It was an intimate, awkward thing, stomach issues, so she bet he would rather be left alone if something was wrong.

You can only offer what you would like yourself. She was aware she wouldn’t know what would help him. How can you spend evenings with a person each day and not know this?

The bathroom door opened abruptly, but the followed steps were shuffling and slow. Matthew dragged himself on the hallway to lean against the wall across from her. Her gaze flickered to him, trying to be inconspicuous. 

Matthew was sweating buckets, dark red hair plastered to his face. He was usually pale, but now he was glistening, freckles standing out on his cheeks and nose, his arms wrapped around his stomach. He was swaying, bending forward a little.

“Seline.”

She turned towards him immediately. “Matt? Hey, what’s wrong?”

He gulped and ran a hand over his face. “Ugh. I-I don’t know? It’s just-” he looked away, flushing, “my stomach really fucking hurts.” 

“Did you throw up?” she asked, eyebrows drawing together. 

“No. But it feels like my guts fucking exploded,” he threw a sheepish look toward the bathroom. Seline noted he closed the door behind himself, which he usually wouldn’t bother with. “...and it didn’t help at all.”

“Oh.” Seline nodded, trying to figure out a sensitive, emphatic way to talk about this without embarrassing him or getting squicked out herself. “You know what? I have these herbal drops that help with indigestion? They are a miracle thing, I swear.” 

She brushed past him towards the kitchen for her yellow bottled drops. Learned to use the herbal things from her mother and knew a really good doctor who made herbal drops from his own garden. Her whole family used it for years for all kinds of issues. It was always her go-to before any hard-on medication.

Counting 30 drops for herself and adding 20 more for Matthew’s weight into a bit of water, she swiftly returned with the glass.

Matthew slid down the wall on the floor, pulling his knees towards himself and hugged them close, face hidden in the crook of his arm.

Seline crouched down beside him, her heart swelling up at the sight. “Come on. Drink this. Maybe it will spare you from throwing up.” 

He eyed her with glossy eyes. This close to him, the smell of sickness and sweat hit her senses, and she suppressed a grimace. Matthew took the glass of water and took a tentative sip. “Hmm. Is this a witchy concoction?”

“Just regular human medicine and traditional herbal knowledge,” she snorted at him. “If it worked for them a few hundred years ago, it will work for you now.” 

Matthew nodded and emptied the glass. She took it from him before he could drop it on the floor, hunching over himself. 

“You will feel better in a minute,” she promised, doubting words immediately. “Come on, up from the floor. Let’s lie you down on the couch.” She wrapped her hands around his arm, coaxing him to stand. He swayed unsteadily as he got up. Better get him sitting down now, or he might not get up on his own soon. 

The redhead sprawled on the couch, but then moaned at the movement and curled up on his side instead, shivering. Seline noted how he hugged his stomach protectively and pulled his hoodie up, nuzzling his face into the couch’s decorative pillow. “I just don’t get it. What’s wrong with me?”

She sat down across from him on the edge of the couch. “You have been handling your shadow pretty well lately, right? Keeping it down so consistently. Ever managed that before?”

Matthew took a shuddering breath, his bleary eyes focusing on her. He squinted against the light of the living room lamp over him. “No?”

“Well, there you have it. Congratulations! You managed to keep your shadow down enough to catch a stomach flu. It’s been going around the campus, I hear.”

“Congratulations for sure,” Matthew grumbled, huddling further into himself, squeezing his eyes shut.

Seline didn’t really have a reason or good excuse to stay beside him, but she didn’t feel like leaving at all. Shutting off the light, she brought her laptop to her lap, sitting cross-legged beside Matthew. This way, she could keep an eye on him all the time. 

The noises his stomach was making didn’t get any better, though. If anything, they grew worse with each passing minute, gurgling and whining. Matthew wasn’t asleep either, hiding his face in the pillows and rubbing his stomach angrily. 

A burp sneaked past his lips. Matt’s eyes flew open and he coughed a small “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. Do whatever you need to,” she said. She couldn’t focus on her work at all, watching all the telltale signs of oncoming sickness. 

Closing her laptop resolutely, she threw it on the nearby table and fetched a trashcan. Better be safe than sorry.

Matthew looked horrified at the trashcan, sitting upright to lean against the backrest. He scowled at her and then burped instead whatever he wanted to say, pushing a hand over his mouth. 

“I’m-m not gonna throw up,” he declared, a fighting glint in his eyes. He was radiating heat. She could feel it even standing up. She cracked the window open and then sat beside him, pushing the trashcan nearer with her foot. 

He glared at her and then belched. A shiver ran through him and he swallowed hard. His breaths came in short, panting huffs.

Then he pitched forward with a painful-sounding retch. Seline quickly grabbed the trashcan and brought it close, just in time for him to hunch over it. Another retch wracked his body and he lurched violently over the trashcan. Nothing came up. Only a few drops of saliva hang from his lips.

“Mattie. You are doing fine. Psshh. Just let it happen.” She pulled his hoodie down and dared to put a hand on his back, rubbing gently.

The movement coaxed up another burp. Matthew panted over the trashcan, eyes opening and shutting hard. He grimaced and spat into the bag, looking offended and angry to boot. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Seriously, you don’t-”

“For real,” he interrupted, looking at her from the side. “I didn’t mean to come to your place to hurl. I never mean it and it somehow always happens and I’m really sorry. I can leave if you-”

“Oh, shut it,” she said with a small grin. “It’s okay. I’m not letting you leave like this. So stay put and get better.”

He smiled slightly in return, then grimaced. “Seline?”

“Yes?”

“I hate this.” 

She laughed softly at that and leaned closer. Matthew took the trashcan from her hands and buried his head inside it. Putting both her hands on his back, she felt his whole spine shake with the next lurch that finally brought chunky liquid out. She winced as it splashed against the plastic.

A slight pause came. Matthew lifted his head hesitantly. His nose was running and there was vomit hanging from his lips and chin. 

Seline patted his arm. “Be right back.” She hurried to get a paper roll from the kitchen before sliding behind Matthew. He had his feet planted on the floor, trashcan between his knees, head hanging low over it, looking helpless and lost. But he sighed at her touch.

She offered him one of the papers, but his grip on the trashcan didn’t loosen one bit. She gave up and wiped his chin herself, catching all the droplets and throwing the crumpled sheet into the trash. “There you go. You are alright.” 

Matthew stayed silent, blinking hazily. Then his back arched and he was heaving again. She raised herself on her knees with his back in between and rubbed at the sweaty pullover. 

When he pitched forward with a loud throaty gurgle, she sneaked a hand under his hoodie, over his stomach. Seline wasn’t sure what was allowed or not, but he didn’t protest her administrations, so she went with the feeling. His middle was bloated and tense under her hand, puffed out despite all the emptying his body been doing from both ends. 

Matthew moaned against her and she could feel his stomach muscles clenching against her hand. She kneaded against the gurgly organ, which ushered a burp out and a handful of milky sickness. At least it was more watery now, coming easier.

Matthew gagged and heaved, a torrent of liquid rushing out. He was left coughing and catching his breath for a few more minutes, even when he came up empty. Then he let go of the trashcan and tipped back, unknowingly leaning against her chest. She squicked quietly and laughed. “Okay, okay, easy, big guy.”

Seline slid from behind him and helped him ease against the couch until he was lying down, propped up on two pillows. When she stood up to get rid of the stinking bag, she felt a tug on her sleeve.

“Where-...are you…?” Matthew blinked sleepily, dazed and confused. It wasn’t fair. Why did she suddenly feel so protective of him? His dark brown eyes looked like big chocolate cookies, lost in his ashen face. 

Taking mercy on him, she twisted the bag shut and pushed it aside, sitting down next to his head. “Shhh. I’m not going anywhere.”

They sat in silence as Matthew took deep breaths, his chest rising and falling irregularly before evening out. His eyes slid shut and he reached out a hand towards her. Seline could do nothing but take it, holding it over his shoulder. Effectively trapped beside him. 

Pretty sure he would never allow himself such a touch if he was fully coherent. But with the fever raging against him and with how dizzy and exhausted he was after the bounds of vomiting, she could see a completely different side to her gruff red-haired protector. Protector? She still thought his shadow was more of a hindrance to him, but he was getting better. This human weakness was proof.

She slipped her fingers over his forehead, pulling the sweaty strands from his face. Then she combed them through his hair.

Matt grumbled softly, sounding content.

[weevil-wallflower]

Scars

Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: Even a Jedi Knight needs some reassurance from time to time.

Warnings/Tags: Spoilers for Jedi: Survivor, canon-typical violence, SFW, no use of Y/N, minor angst.

A.N.: My fifth entry for Cal Kestis Week 2024! It follows the Day 4 prompt ‘Scars’. I've been meaning to get this one out like four days ago, on the last day of Cal Kestis Week but unfortunately work and studies prevented me from finishing it on time. And yes, another older prompt but I simply had to use this idea! Gif by me!

Also on AO3!

Word Count: ~1,600

The final moments of Cal’s fight with Dagan were a blur of pain and fury. As the duel between Cal and Dagan came to a brutal end, Dagan’s lightsaber struck Cal across his chest, sending a shockwave of agony through his body. The sizzling sound of burning flesh filled the air as Cal staggered, his tunic scorched around the fresh wound while his lightsaber clattered to the floor.

The redhead clutched the wound as he felt the charred fabric of his tunic cling to the cauterised wound. The world around him flipped as he collapsed to the ground, his vision narrowing to the sight of Dagan’s triumphant sneer.

Taking in a deep breath and pushing away the pain for the moment, Cal Force-pulled his lightsaber towards him and used one of Dagan’s own hallucinations against him. He focused intently, allowing the Force to shape his image into that of Santari, Dagan’s late friend. The vision caught Dagan off guard, his defense faltering as he grappled with the apparition of the one person who he trusted most. Seizing the opportunity, Cal's lightsaber blazed with lethal accuracy, piercing right through Dagan's chest. Dagan's pained scream was mixed with a sizzling sound as the blade tore through muscle and bone. Cal twisted the sword, guaranteeing a fatal strike.

Just as victory appeared to be imminent, Dagan used the Force to painfully seize Cal's body, suspending him mid-air. Dagan’s voice, filled with rage and desperation, rang through the chamber as he yelled about Tanalorr, his dream fading away. Cal struggled against the invisible grip, his own strength waning.

BD-1, seeing the peril his friend was in, acted swiftly. With frantic beeps and nudges, the little droid managed to wake Bode, who had previously been rendered unconscious by Dagan. Realising the dire situation, Bode aimed his blaster at Dagan and fired, the shot breaking Dagan’s concentration and releasing Cal from his grasp.

With a final lethal strike to across the chest, Cal sent Dagan crumpling to the ground, his body twitching as the life drained from his eyes. Cal stood over him, his chest heaving with the effort and pain of the fight.

Bode slowly approached the redhead, his expression a mix of relief and concern. “Cal, are you okay?” He asked, his voice tinged with worry.

Cal glanced at Bode, his face a mask of determination despite the agonising pain in his chest. "I'm fine," he lied, his voice strained. All he wanted was to get away from there and be in your comforting arms.

Bode studied him for a moment, seeing through the facade but deciding not to press further. He placed a reassuring hand on Cal's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "You did good, brother," Bode said softly, his tone filled with warmth. "Go on ahead. I'll stay and survey the area. And see if I can find a manual for that compass or something..."

Cal nodded, a wave of gratitude washing over him at Bode's support. "Thanks, Bode," he replied, his voice a bit more genuine.

With a final look at his fallen foe and a nod to Bode, Cal turned and made his way back towards Pyloon’s Saloon. Hand pressed to the wound on his chest, each step sent a wave of pain radiating through his body but he forced himself onwards, driven by the need to be with you. He knew that in your arms, he would find the solace and comfort he desperately needed.

When he finally entered your shared quarters below Pyloon’s Saloon, stumbling in through the back door—most likely to avoid everyone in the cantina—You were already there waiting for him, your expression one of great concern. As soon as Cal stumbled in, BD-1 hopped down from his back, rushing over to You with worried beeps about the Jedi.

“Cal,” You said softly, rushing over to his side. “Let me take a look at that.”

He nodded, his emerald eyes meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and resignation. His tunic sported a burnt slash across his chest where the lightsaber had struck him, the fabric singed and charred around the wound. Carefully, You guided him to sit on the bed, your touch gentle but firm. You gently pried his tunic off, being careful not to aggravate the wound further before You began to examine the injury. BD-1 perched on your shoulder, his beeps and chirps a constant stream of worry as he watched You work.

When the wound came into view, You couldn’t help but gasp at the horrible sight, your heart aching for the pain Cal had endured. The wound was a searing, angry red slash across his chest, blackened at the edges and blistered from the intense heat of the lightsaber.

The silence in your quarters was thick with unspoken words. As You worked, Cal couldn’t help but shakily trail his fingers over the fresh slash on his chest, wincing at the pain but also more at the thought of yet another mark added to his already scarred body. Each one told a story of pain and survival, a testament to the battles he had fought. His body was already littered with scars—what was another?

The redhead’s mind swirled with anguished thoughts. How could You, someone so beautiful and kind, love someone like him? How could You look at his scarred body and see anything other than ugliness—to see someone who was capable of more than just war and violence? The doubts gnawed at him, twisting in his gut like a knife.

After cleaning the wound and sealing it with a bacta patch, You looked up at him, your eyes solemn. “This will scar,” You said quietly, your voice tinged with sadness.

Cal forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, it’s just another one for the collection, right? Sure to impress you...”

Despite his playful words, the tone of his voice was heavy with sorrow. You could see the weight of his past experiences and hardships pressing down on him, the scars not just on his skin but deep within his soul.

You paused, your hands still on his chest and met his gaze with a gentle, unwavering look. “Cal,” You said softly, “you could be doing anything at all—something as simple as planting a seed in the cantina’s garden—and you would still impress me.”

The sincerity in your voice penetrated his defenses, and for a moment, the pain and fear melted away. He looked at You, really looked, and saw the depth of your care and admiration for him. It wasn’t the scars that defined him in your eyes, but the strength, courage and kindness that lay beneath them.

A lump formed in Cal’s throat as he struggled to find the right words. “You have no idea how much that means to me…” he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. In that moment, the weight of his battles felt lighter, the burden of his scars less daunting.

You smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of fiery hair from his forehead. “I do, Cal. And I’m here with you, scars and all.”

BD-1 let out a soft, comforting beep, hopping down from your shoulder to nestle closer to Cal to affirm your words.

Under the soft light of your shared quarters, as the tender moment between You and Cal lingered, You were overcome with a sudden urge to reassure him of your love and acceptance, scars and all. Gently, You leaned in and pressed a tender kiss around the fresh slash on his chest, feeling the tension in his body begin to melt away. Cal’s breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as he absorbed the warmth of your touch.

Moving upwards, You kissed the long scar on his upper right jaw, your lips lingering on the raised line, and tingling from the roughness of his short beard. You then moved to the small scar across his right eyebrow, kissing it softly. Eyes still closed, Cal’s mind was rampant with emotions he could barely contain. His heart pounded in his chest as the contact sent a shiver down his spine. Each kiss was like a balm, soothing the lingering pain and doubts that haunted him.

Next, You placed a delicate kiss on the scar across his nose, before your fingers gently traced the path of the old wound. Cal’s hands, which has been tightly gripping the edge of the bed, slowly relaxed, moving up to rest on your waist as if seeking the comfort and stability that only You could provide.

Finally, You reached the small scar that ran across his lower lip. You pressed your lips against it tenderly, feeling the slight roughness beneath the softness of his skin. Cal’s eyes opened, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The anguish in his heart was replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude.

When You finally pulled away, You gazed into Cal’s emerald eyes and saw tears silently streaming down his cheeks. Your heart clenched at the sight, but before You could voice your concerns, he softly assured You, “They’re tears of happiness.”

A giggle escaped your lips, the sound joyful and filled with relief. “I’m glad,” You whispered, wiping away his tears with your thumb. “Because you mean everything to me, Cal.”

Cal pulled You into a tight embrace, his strong arms holding You close as if You were his anchor in a storm. The weight of his scars felt lighter now, due to a reminder of your love and acceptance. And as You nestled against him, You knew that together, you both could face anything, bound by a love that was stronger than any scar could be.

[comfortlesshurt]

Smiling 'cause you're used to it (a house that's always haunted)

TWs: Mentions of alcohol use/abuse by a background character, not directly shown. Injury. Referenced child abuse not directly shown. Referenced self-harm and eating disorder that do not actually occur. Emeto/vomiting.

Some of these tags are for future chapters, so you won't see them come up in chapter 1. There's a spoiler dropdown with more explanation of TWs in the start note if you follow the link.

Summary:

The unexpected pain catches Keith off-guard, and rather than landing safely on the other side, he tumbles down the hill, instinctively bringing his arms up to guard his head. On the plus side, he’s made it down the hill in record time with no head injury, and he can no longer hear the footfalls trailing after him. …but he’s paid for that win with the gouges he can now confirm are thoroughly marring his right hand and the sting along most of his left forearm. After he pauses for a shaky breath and brings himself to look at it, he sees how fast it’s leaking blood, staining the dirt beneath him. It’s most definitely not a “slap a band-aid on it and move on” kind of wound.

Pseuds: occasionalvoltronfiction & sickficlurker

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Main character: Keith

Side character: Shiro (Chapters 2 through 4)

Relationship: Keith & Shiro (Chapters 2 through 4)

Timeline: Pre-series, shortly after Keith starts at the garrison

Challenges: (@whumperless-whump-event) Whumperless Whump 2024 Day 1: self-done stitches and alcohol as sanitizer (chapter 1), Day 10: forced to work while ill (chapter 2, slightly modified because this is school not work, but it's in the SPIRIT), and Day 16: half-conscious (chapter 3) & bingo board shared by @builder051: self-surgery (chapter 1).

[phantom-chirp]

Both of the detective princes have emotionally harmed me and I think there's something beautiful about that

[wifegideonnav]

tbh when mitski said “you’re my best friend/now i’ve no one to tell/how i lost my best friend”

[lover-of-midnight]

Blood

“Arthur.” The words were sharp as Merlin rushed forward. Blood spattered against his face as the sword was forced into Arthur.

Magic gathered around him as he pushed the man away, sending him flying against a tree. A branch sticking through the bandit's chest. Merlin whispered a prayer as he moved closer to Arthur, trying to gather enough magic to heal him.

He wanted to curse at the same time. Why did Arthur have to go on a bloody hunt today of all days when none of the knights could go with them? Why did Arthur want to be in the woods so badly?

All he wanted to do was be back at the castle, to make sure that Arthur would be fine, but for now, they were stuck in the stupid woods. He whispered a few words, eyes glowing gold as he slowly pulled the sword out, concentrating on making sure the wound closed properly.

Merlin sat down heavily, sweat running down his neck as he gently ran his fingers through his hair. “I love you, you stupid clotpole.” He pulled his legs up, as he just looked at the trees, whistling around them.

They will be fine, Merlin was certain of that as his magic sparks off around him, setting up a little ward to keep them safe for the evening as he closed his eyes. Letting sleep claim, him, knowing that his magic would keep them safe.

If he moved slightly closer to Arthur, well that is only for him to know.

Ao3 Link