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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language and violence Warnings: Choking (kinda) Summary: Local feral human makes a friend, tries to sleep next to local mean vampire, then gets a taste of their own medicine Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!

3: Haunt Me Dearly

What a lovely crimson mess I’ve made, you think, watching as the last of the bloody water drained from the bathtub. There were still several splashes of red along the sides, where you had leaned on or otherwise touched. Frowning, you considered whether or not to clean up after yourself. Surely it wouldn’t be one of your captors doing the cleaning? In that case, you think, I don’t want to make any enemies out of the servants. First you had to finish binding your wounds. Wouldn’t want to risk getting them dirty so soon after washing them, after all. Except you weren’t even sure that you could properly wrap them on your own, considering the positioning of your injuries.

“Ah, fucking hell…” You muttered, scowling a little. Then you remembered that Cassandra had sent a maid to wait outside the bathroom for you. Maybe they could help? Nodding to yourself, you threw on your new undergarments and pair of trousers, deciding to save the shoes for later. Once you were ‘decent’, you slowly opened the door, peeking out from behind it. Before long you were making eye contact with an unfamiliar woman, who looked very confused. “Any chance you could help me bandage my shoulder? I can’t do it without help, and something tells me Cassandra’s not going to lend me a hand.” With that said, you gave her a friendly smile, hoping to make up for the awkwardness of the situation.

“Of course! It is my honor to serve a guest of my Lady,” the maid- servant, maybe- said, giving a short curtsy. Admittedly you’re a little confused by her response. Still, you gladly welcome her assistance, moving back into the bathroom to grab the gauze. Although you intend to do as much as you can on your own, the woman is quick to take over completely. “Please, allow me,” she continued, carefully beginning to wrap your wounds.

“Are all the workers here so polite? I can’t imagine anyone actually enjoys working here, all things considered,” you mused, squinting at the middle distance. At that, the servant tenses up, clearly not expecting you to speak ill of her employers. Well, she had called you a guest. “Don’t be surprised, friend. Less than an hour ago I was fit to be consumed by ‘your Lady Cassandra’. Only reason I’m not dead right now is because of a stupid blood bond,” you explained, tone dripping with irritation. This time the servant doesn’t flinch at all, instead nodding slowly, taking a moment to let your words sink in. During this pause, you decide to introduce yourself, just in case the two of you might see each other frequently.

“I… see. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, no matter the circumstances of your presence here. You can call me Daphne, though I must warn you that I am not one for, ahem, gossip about my masters,” she replied, finishing her binding of your shoulder wound. Next she searched through the cabinet by the sink, looking for a medicinal salve of some sort. Once she found it she was right back to work. The substance stung a tad on your skin, but you could hardly complain, seeing as it would help fight off possible infections.

“You sure about no gossip? What if we call it ‘helping me get acclimated to my new situation’? I’m a fish outta water here, Daphne,” you suggested, turning your head to look her in the eyes. At first she ignored you, focusing on rubbing the medicine into your skin. Eventually she meets your gaze, briefly, and releases a quiet sigh.

“You are free to ask questions-” you start to celebrate, though not for long- “just as I am free to withhold answers. Though I may be more responsive if you can tell me one thing… Why was Lady Cassandra’s dress wet?” Daphne asked, making you freeze in place. Of course she wanted the one answer you didn’t feel confident about giving. She’s quick to notice this, though, and laughs to herself. “Well, I suppose some things must remain a mystery. Now let’s get your face cleaned up…”

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By the time you make it to Cassandra’s room, the sun is starting to rise, leaking in through the castle windows. Exhaustion weighs you down, making you want to fall immediately into the nearest bed. As it stands, that was none other than your soulmate’s, though it was currently occupied. For a moment you hover in her doorway, contemplating whether or not you should steal her blanket. Floor can’t be too bad, you think, right? Before you can decide you notice Cassandra stirring from her sleep.

“What took you so fucking long?” She asked groggily. Now she’s sitting up, blanket clinging loosely to her body, and you realize that she’s not wearing a shirt. Though a blush rishes up your cheeks, you’re certain it’s too dark for Cassandra to notice. Or at least you hope so. Wanting to think about something other than what she was (or was not) wearing, you focus your energy on responding.

“Isn’t it obvious? I got invited to a sick orgy on the way back, and I wasn’t about to turn that down, so…” You trailed off, gesturing idly with your hands. The movement stretches your shoulder more than you’d like, resulting in an ache that lasts several seconds. It distracts you to the point where you almost can’t catch the object Cassandra promptly throws at you. “What the hell…?” It’s a shoe, as far as you can tell, that definitely would have hurt, had it hit its intended target. “Such a lovely gift, babe. I will treasure it for the rest of my days, forever keeping it as a reminder that you-” your tone shifts from a false joy to deadpan- “are a piece of shit. Now, seriously, where am I supposed to sleep? Is there a walk-in closet I can camp in? Or do I get the bed, while you sleep in a fucking coffin or something?”

Before Cassandra has a chance to respond, you’re walking further into her room, wanting to take a quick look around. There’s a large dresser that you quickly toss her shoe inside, as well as a window sill with a built-in reading nook. Trading your tiredness for sheer dickery, you throw open the curtains, letting the light pour in (and nearly blind you in the process). Half of you expects your soulmate to screech in response. Maybe even turn to ash. Instead, you hear her moving, and you turn to find her laying back down, facing away from you.

“When you’re done fucking around, come over here and sleep. I will knock you out if I have to,” Cassandra muttered, still sounding half asleep. As much as you wanted to know if she’d go through with her threat, you are exhausted. Begrudgingly you approach the bed. It’s certainly large enough for two people, even having enough room for you to be completely separate from each other. When you start to climb in, you find yourself overwhelmed for a moment, surprised at the quality of the sheet fabric. Exactly how rich were these vampiric assholes? This room alone seemed to be worth more than you had ever known.

This was, perhaps, the one bright side to your situation: A comfortable state of existence. Well, as comfortable as one could get in a place like this. So lovely on the outside, a muse worthy of a thousand artists, yet hiding far darker horrors within… much like the woman you now found yourself laying beside. Why me? Why her? What could possibly bring the two of us together, you think, other than a cruel fate? There’s a pain in your chest, dishearteningly similar to heartache. Damning the universe, and your blood bond, and yourself, you think ‘fuck it’ before sliding closer to Cassandra. One arm drapes itself over her waist, while you slowly lean your head against her back.

In an instant she’s tense, not even breathing, waiting for you to reveal whatever trick hid up your sleeve. But no trick comes, just your hand meeting hers, squeezing softly. Suddenly the tension is gone. None remains, not even lingering in the air, and the two of you soon drift off to sleep...

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Shaking, body made a wreck through tremors, tears staining her cheeks. Breathing comes hard, each shift of her lungs bringing with it a mighty ache. Someone’s holding her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, fingers tracing circles against her back. But she’s lost in her dream, eyes clenched shut. Visions flash before her gaze like lightning in a storm. There’s no time to process, no opportunity to prepare for the thunder that follows. Every strike is a punch to the gut she can’t ignore. When release finally comes, it is not a gentle kiss to her forehead, or a reassuring hand on her own, but rather an intense surge of pain that jolts her awake.

Cassandra nearly screams as she sits up, hands reflexively going to hold her head. One of them stings, bad, and she notices what look like bite marks on the side. For a moment her confusion acts as a welcome distraction. Then she’s looking next to her, and the puzzle practically puts itself together. There you are, one hand in your mouth, an eyebrow raised as you stare at her. Ignoring the lingering memories of her dream, she turns all of her rage towards you. Quickly she grabs ahold of your arm, forcefully yanking your hand out of your mouth, even though it makes your teeth dig in a little deeper. It takes more willpower than she wants to admit to stop herself from strangling you right then and there.

“I didn’t know monsters could even have nightmares,” you taunted. Before you know what’s happening, Cassandra is lunging towards you, pressing her forearm against your throat. There’s just enough pressure to make talking difficult. Both of her yellow eyes are filled with hatred, aimed right at you, but you can’t help but laugh. “Ya know, I did try to wake you up nicely. I should have known you only respond to violence. Next time, though, I’ll remember to stay a safe distance away.”

“You don’t know anything, dipshit. Anyone else would know better than to spout so much fucking ignorance, but nobody taught you how to behave, huh?” Cassandra growled, applying more pressure with her arm, leaving you unable to reply (for once). “You’re a goddamn mutt, aren’t you? Thrown to the street like the garbage you are, left to live in the gutter, feeding off of trash like a fucking cannibal. You should be honored to be allowed anywhere near me. You should be worshiping me, for fuck’s sake!” Black dots form in your vision, a dark halo edging into the corners of your eyes, as your lungs beg for air. But you’re grinning. You’re showing your teeth, bright and proud, knowing full well that you have won this round. As soon as realization dawns on Cassandra’s face she’s pulling herself off of you.

Still, you are left gasping, clutching at your neck as she hurriedly gets dressed for the day. By the time you can see properly again, she’s left without another word. Even as she stalks down the corridor, eagerly rushing away from you, she hears your laughter howling through the castle. It digs into her brain, taunting her. Soon enough you’ll stop, light headed, but she will still hear it echoing inside her mind. You’ll haunt her just as much as her wicked dreams. Hopefully more.

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #blunt teeth sharp tongue #cassandra gets a turn to be a dick #>=3

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nevertheless-moving · 4 years

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Suicidal Misunderstanding X

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV - - - - - Part V - - - - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII - - - - - Part IX

“I realize this is incredibly difficult,” the Nautolan Soul Healer said calmly. “But in order for us to help Obi-Wan, we need to determine the cause of his current disconnection with reality. Based on the drug panel, and convenient surveillance, we have, to the best of our ability, ruled out temporary psychosis brought on by a drug interaction.”

Cody stiffened further, not sure how to react to anything anymore. When a brother tried to end his own life, it was usually obvious why.

Sife Aerdo continued on. “There have, of course, been cases of Jedi Seers giveing into their fears of the future, or losing their sense of reality, but every case study involving such an extreme reaction was the result a gradual degradation over the course of many years. Nevertheless, it seems clear that Obi-Wan experienced a vision, and it may have impacted his breakdown to some extent. The more we know, the more successful any attempts to convince him of reality will be.”

Bant furrowed her brow in thought, trying to replay three decades of increasingly vague discussions of nightmares.

”Considering the high profile nature of his position, we cannot rule out some kind of psychological attack, perhaps even a darksider incursion.

Anakin leaned forward intently, the inside of his skull buzzing with white noise.

"All that being said, we must be prepared to treat Obi-Wan’s self harm as the culmination of a long and quiet mental health struggle. He would not be the first in the Order to disguise such a thing with durasteel self-discipline.”

At that, Bant and Mace took a moment to release their feelings to the force, while Anakin raised his shields defensively.

Master Aerdo finally hesitated, before continuing in the same smooth tone. “I would ordinarily prefer to structure this kind of conversation quite differently- allow Obi-Wan time to share his feelings first and invite you each separately to support him in the healing process. But he’s gone from fighting sedatives and force compulsions as though the fate of the galaxy depended on it, to a self-induced coma. All while barely lucid, yet still somehow maintaining Master Class mental shielding. We need to get a better understanding of his mental landscape if we’re going to even begin the process of treatment."

It is necessary to note that everyone in that room had led, in one way or another, a somewhat miserable life. This was the main reason none of them could claim that the next five hours were the worst they had ever experienced.

“But he’s always had terrible sleeping habits.” Anakin said hoarsely.

“Yes, but I think they got worse after Qui-Gon passed,” Bant argued, not sure what point she was making.

“When I pointed out he couldn’t be getting more than three hours a night he told me that he could manage on meditation” Cody offered irritably.

“That’s technically true,” Mace confirmed. “If the Master in question is well-balanced otherwise”

“So its like his eating habits, crushing responsibilities, and repeated exposure to violence, then? Completely fine for a Jedi, in less it’s not, in which case it’s a major red flag?”

“I think it would help to establish a timeline.“

Aerdo actually dredged up old mission reports, leading to the group reluctantly contacting Ashoka for her memories of Mortis.

At her Master’s insistence, she told them everything she remembered, hazy as it was, nervously elaborating on her own memories of falling. To her confusion, Master Windu all but brushed past that, assuring her that the important thing with stepping into darkness was the choice to the return to the light. Anakin bizarrely agreed with Windu. Out loud. Unnerved by the cooperation more than anything, she put her holographic foot down and demanded to know what was going on.

Anakin took the comm-link into a separate room to speak privately.

Upon return, he informed the group (with a visibly red and puffy face) that Kit would be escorting her back from Mount Cala cleanup early, daring anyone to disagree. Windu nodded and the conversation continued on.

Together they rewatched holo-footage of Obi-Wan laughing amongst Ghost company the night before last, and debated reports from psychometric investigators who had scoured the cantina as well as Obi-Wan’s personal quarters for traces of illicit substances. Between that and another drug panel, they were finally forced to conclude that despite the timing, the alcohol at most confused Obi-Wan’s perception of a vision, or possibly simply loosened his tongue.

Bant prodded Cody to repeat every word from the holocar ride to the temple, taking furious notes. Cody was unable to stop the heat that crawled up his face.

Just when the looming horror of Obi-Wan actually preparing to intentionally die started to break over Anakin, Windu interjected.

“You don’t see what I do,” the Harun Kal said grimly. “Something galaxy-sized shattered around Obi-Wan and he didn’t break from it. The closest comparison I have is Master Yaddle’s presence when she meditated on her confinement. He’s chosen to keep going, even when, quite frankly, death would be a release. We’re missing something fundamental.”

“He said there were ‘other dark forces at work.’ Even if the fight was objectively hopeless... there’s no way he would choose to die because of it!” Anakin agreed vehemently, shaking off morbid fears.

“But he did choose to die.” Cody said quietly. And the wind went out of Anakin’s sails.

“Lets go back.”

Anakin gritted his teeth as they picked apart everything ‘unusual’ Obi-Wan had said and done leading up to his visit with Bant.

“What exactly did he...”

“So Plo Koon was able to get a read through his shields?”

“Did he have anything to eat?”

“How did that compare to...”

“When he's mentioned things in the future...did it seem good or bad to you?” Bant asked.

“Bad.” Cody and Anakin said in unison. Remembering the trip to the temple Cody spoke again, “Definitely bad.”

“Right. When we were talking he sometimes used the wrong tenses for things, people. I confronted him on not knowing ‘when’ he was after Knight Skywalker left. He told me that he knew what was real, but he was “enjoying not fully living in the moment” he also said that he intended to “wake up”

“Enjoying? That’s the exact word he used?” Cody asked incredulous.

“He did seem...mostly happy yesterday. Giddy, at points.” Anakin said, slumping in on himself.

Bant looked at her notes once more before addressing the group.

“This isn’t vision psychosis in any manner I’ve heard of before...but I think I might have a theory. He used to have intense visions when we were kids; plenty of us did sometimes, but Obi-Wan would be unable to sleep after. What terrified him more than anything was the uncertainty that he might make the wrong choice- even when the vision was about something good, or neutral. His visions gradually stopped coming around puberty. We just had a conversation about this a few months ago- how relieved he was to only have to manage flashes of precognition. If he had a random, horrifying vision of a terrible future...suicide wouldn’t be his reaction. It’s too final.”

“Even if he blamed himself for what he saw coming?” Mace asked.

“Especially if he blamed himself.” Bant said.

“What’s your theory?” Aerdo prodded.

“What if...what if he was telling the truth when he said he could separate out what was real and what was not? What if there was no distortion or blurring between now and then? What if he was just wrong about which was which?”

“That...would be a very extreme and abnormal manifestation of force-induced psychosis. He has training in distinguishing reality from visions. The continued presence of his mental shielding means that the fabric of his mind can’t be so horrifically collapsed in on itself.”

“What if the vision was actually that realistic?” Bant said, pushing back against the soul healer. “So detailed and vivid that it effectively was a reality in itself, and everything else, all of us...”

“Were just memories” Anakin finished. “It would...actually explain pretty much everything. You said he wanted to wake up and when...when I found him.” He stopped, swallowing. “When I found him, he argued with me...what if he wasn’t trying to hurt himself? If you’re right...that would mean I found him trying to get back to reality.”

“It could explain his behavior in the halls...his desperation to wake...” Sife mused “But it runs counter to every other experience I’ve had with those managing prophetic visions. Master Windu, could that explain the shatterpoints you saw?”

“I’m not certain. It would have to have been extraordinarily real to create the echos of Shattering I witnessed. I don’t know if that depth of vision has occurred before, but then again, many things are possible in the force.”

“You really think he might have been...trying to wake up from dream? By killing himself?!” Cody asked incredulous.

“If that ends up being what happened I am going to give him such shit. That is the worst way to end a vision.” Anakin replied.

“Yes. It is.” Bant said pointedly. “That’s why it’s a last resort, after every other attempt to wake fails.”

They all sat in silence, processing various implications. Cody was unnerved by another terrifying insight into force powers, as well as the idea that the General might vividly remember Cody being inexplicably mind-controlled into trying to kill him. Anakin was trying to understand what this would mean for them, and the conversations he had thought they had had. Did...any of it count, if he thought he was offering it to a hallucination?

“Alright, this is a valuable working idea, but let’s make sure to examine everything with an open mind before we draw any more conclusions. Anakin, what happened after you left the healers office?”

Obi-Wan’s critique of the practicalities of visiting a soul healer could be and was interpreted multiple ways. The incongruity of peacekeepers in war sparked a rehash of earlier discussion. More apologies. Self identifying as ‘crazy’ inspired new debate, especially in the context of the new theory.

“When I saw him enter the fountain room I assumed he had had a brutal run-in with dark force user.” Windu explained. “Based on everything we’ve gone over, I don’t understand when...but some of the more insidious sith compulsions work by taking whatever small anger or hurt you feel and magnifying them until they consume you. If Obi-Wan was already experiencing self loathing...”

Cody sucked in a breath. “Then a Sith mind suggestion would bring him to commit suicide. It...sounds like something he might do, if he was partially in control. Take the blow rather than let himself be used as a weapon against anyone else, even his worst enemy.”

“Hells, it could have been an even vaguer compulsion, driving him to attack the person he hates the most,” Bant added darkly.

Anakin buried his head in his hands, trying to hold it together. He couldn’t afford to lose control or get angry. Hells, getting angry at Obi-Wan for ‘failing him’ when in pain could be the reason Obi-Wan was currently in the healing halls. The man said he loved him unconditionally, then practically had a breakdown over how much Anakin pushed that unconditional love to the breaking point, then killed himself. How was he supposed to-

“Anakin? Are you alright to continue?” someone said.

“Yes. No. There’s more I have to tell you...I don’t know if it will help but - it was hurting Obi-Wan...I...”

“Let’s just take it one step at a time. What happened after you left Mace?”

Apparently even Cody somehow knew more about Bruck Chun than Anakin. Master Windu and Eerin told different sides of the same sad story, which spiraled back into a conversation about Obi-Wan’s inadequacy issues, which somehow devolved into a long rant about Qui-Gon Jinn that Master Windu had apparently been holding back for years.

“My apologies.” He said afterwards, clearing his throat as the group stared, taken aback. “Old grievances. Go on Anakin, what did happened after you got to the ‘secret spot.’”

“He...was skirting around whatever was bothering him...I pushed him...told him I wanted to help...he said I couldn’t...because it was me...because of what I...”

Anakin stood up suddenly, feeling the walls of the room closing in.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I-”

He ran out.

He turned around almost immediately, pacing in the small corridor, knowing he couldn’t leave, simply needing a minute to catch his breath.

Master Windu followed him out after a moment, not saying anything, just standing there. Watching him.

“What!” Anakin finally snapped. “What do you have to say that I don’t know already!”

“Knight Skywalker-”

“Don’t call me that! I DON’T DESERVE-”

Anakin let out a frustrated snarl, punching a wall. The crumble of stone beneath this fist briefly made him feel better, but then he remembered Obi-Wan’s heartbroken expression in the light of an underworldly glow, and the tiny, choked sound he heard when the healers moved him and Anakin just...collapsed, falling to his knees.

Master Windu sank down gracefully beside him.

“Anakin. This isn’t about attachment issues, is it.”

“Not really, no. I mean, maybe you’ll blame attachment but it’s more about...”

“Anger.”

Anakin looked up at that, trying to regain the meditative calm he had felt for a glimmering moment yesterday, right in-between making peace in the cave and everything burning to ash.

“You know that I have had my own struggles with anger. It is how and why I came to develop Vaapad.”

“Yes, but you’ve Mastered your anger. And you’ve never...never given in to hate.”

A beat passed and Windu watched some of Skywalker’s familiar breaking points flicker into view.

“You’ve done something. Something you know the Jedi won’t forgive.”

“Obi-Wan forgave me.” Anakin said, whispering. “He said that even though I couldn’t fix what I did he loved me anyway and I just needed to...to honestly regret what I did and not do it again. I told him I’d get rid of my lightsaber and I meant it and...I thought he forgave me. I was ready to go to the Council with him, come clean about everything. And then I left him alone to get dinner and when I came back...he was holding my lightsaber. My lightsaber.”

Anakin buried his face in his hands, shuddering with creeping cold.

“I’m not going to critique your and Obi-Wan’s attachment to each other right now. I’m well aware that much of the order has turned to personal ties to maintain their stability given the ongoing horrors of war. I am, for many reasons, wary of the risks this brings us, yet it is also true that risks do not automatically mean failure. I myself have mastered my emotions in a different manner than conventional wisdom councils.”

Windu spoke carefully. For all that he and Anakin had similar relationships with the force, they rarely saw eye to eye on any given subject. At a certain point, Mace had accepted that the volatile young man was determined to find the worst possible interpretation for anything he said. And Mace was not the order’s most patient diplomat.

“As for your crime, whatever it is, l will tell you this: Unless you choose to renounce the code and leave our number, you will be treated as a Jedi Knight, subject to our protections, as well as our judgement. You will receive appropriate mental counseling. If you are judged to be a danger to those around you, your actions will be curtailed and monitored, possibly through temporary confinement. The Jedi do not believe in punitive measures for their own sake, but you may be required to provide restitution to those you harmed, perhaps indefinitely.

Silence hung perilously between them. Windu watched a tremor run through the unfathomable kaleidoscopic of shatterpoints that had orbited Skywalker since he was a boy. A small one broke inward, and an attached tangle of larger, darker ones fell away, crumbling to dust. The rest faded from view, invisible for the moment. A choice had been made, some decision that closed off at least one path to the darkside.

“There’s no one to make restitutions to.”

“...You’re going to have to elaborate on that.”

“Let’s go back inside- I don’t want to do this twice.”

They returned to the increasingly hated meeting room.

Anakin spoke in an outpouring of words about love and hate, about misplaced revenge and now uncertain forgiveness. When he finally finished, the room was deathly silent.

The three Jedi sat quietly while Cody pinched the bridge of his nose. “I guess this is why Jedi have the no attachment rule, huh? I admit I never really got it, but I suppose even if I-”

Bant abruptly lunged up, fumbling to bring her lightsaber to Anakin’s neck. Everyone jumped to their feet, except for Anakin, who stared at Bant with a wretched expression.

“MASTER EERIN! This is not-”

“Did you do it?” she asked, ignoring the Master of the Order.

“Bant!”

“It was my first thought after I saw him. We all rushed in expecting a fight, or a bomb, only to find you, insane, and him with a hole next to his heart. I didn’t want to believe it of course, but you’ve always had a violent streak that Obi-Wan, force help him, couldn’t quite soothe away. A fight gone wrong. Master Windu said it was suicide, and I believed him, and I’ve been trying to make sense of that ever since. But Mace found you after, didn’t he? After you felt guilty? Did you think he was going to turn on you?”

“Bant Eerin, you are dangerously-”

“No.” Anakin whispered.

“Obviously I might be why. But I didn’t- I couldn’t. I know I’m not good but I can’t even imagine- holding a saber against him like that. Kriff, do you not get how much I can’t handle losing people I love? I was insane when you saw me because I saw someone trying to kill Obi-Wan and I couldn’t even fight them.”

Bant held his gaze for several lingering seconds, deactivated her saber and dropping it with a clatter. They stared at each other, breathing heavily and not blinking. She returned to her seat, moving jerkily. “I apologize Knight Skywalker. That was uncalled for.”

“I wish I could say I wouldn’t have done the same thing in your shoes” he responded lowly. Bant made a tiny, unintelligible noise in reply.

Cody collapsed back into his chair, holstering his blaster. “Alright then...so after you finished sitting in the fountain room...what happened next?”

Everyone stared at him.

“What?”

“You’re handling Anakin’s confession somewhat dispassionately. We’re simply surprised.” Mace said slowly, returning to his seat at the same time as Master Aerdo fell into theirs.

Cody shifted uncomfortably. “The vod were trained in a wide range of enemy suppression tactics. While we’re extremely glad the Jedi have never asked us to employ them, I’m not...unfamiliar with this scale of deliberate slaughter. At least in the hypothetical, sir.”

“I see.” Aerdo said. “That is a valuable insight to have, thank you. Knight Skywalker-”

“Just...call me Anakin. Or Skywalker.”

“Anakin. When did this happen?”

“About two years ago, immediately before the First Battle of Geonosis.”

“And have you had any similar experiences with giving into the darkside since?” they asked placidly.

“I don’t think so but...we went to war the next day and....I don’t know if I’ve stopped fighting since it- since I did what I did.”

“Hmm. Anakin, would you mind stepping outside the room and waiting in the corridor for a moment please?”

He bit his tongue, tasting blood, and quietly walked out the door while the Masters decided his fate. He leaned back against a wall, desperately wanting to see Padme.

To his surprise, the door opened barely a few minutes later, and he was politely invited back in.

“Anakin.” Master Windu spoke. “Thank you for telling us this. It’s an important insight into Obi-Wan’s feelings right now, and I recognize that you could have kept it a secret. As Head of the Order, and with the advice of a Senior Soul Healer, I have made a decision. You will be assigned a personal soul healer, who you will start seeing tomorrow. Commander Cody pointed out that over nearly two years of continuous warfare, you have maintained some of the the lowest trooper casualty units of any division, by a significant margin if we evaluate based on mission risk level. Your civilian and enemy casualties will be reviewed, but even considering constant war, since your massacre of the Tuskens, you have clearly managed to at least... direct your violence away from the innocent. We do not consider you a threat to the inhabitants of the world. For the time being, I see no real benefit to limiting or tracking your behavior within the temple or on planet, but you are barred from leaving orbit. I have decided to delay a full reckoning before the council until such time that your former Master is well enough to provide his own opinion. Give me just cause, and I will have you confined to a force-suppressing cell. Do you understand?”

Anakin nodded, bowing in acknowledgment. All things considered, it was...honestly better than he expected.

“Now, as Cody” Windu paused. “My apologies, as the Commander was saying-”

“Cody’s fine, sir” Cody said, wrung out in a way different from anything Kamino had trained him for.

“...I think we can all consider ourselves on a first name basis at this point.” Bant said with a snort. She paused. “That includes you Anakin. I really don’t know how to handle what you did but kark it, I don’t want to hate you. For myself.”

Everyone nodded.

“As Cody was saying, what happened next?”

Peace. Comfort. Hunger. A warning in the force...

“I tried to pull the saber back but his finger was already on the igniter...”

“You probably saved his life. Even a second later-”

“I know, that’s almost the worst part.”

“-his neck”

“Why would he change weapons?”

“What if-”

“He said what to you and Healer Che?”

“That has to support the detailed vision idea, think about-”

“I’m sorry, Emperor?”

“I think we’re done.”

Anakin stared blankly at Sife. “But we didn’t figure anything out.”

“Not conclusively, but we’re unlikely to make any more progress, you’ve given me enough information to preform a meaningful meditative scan, or guide a conversation, should Obi-Wan wake, or navigate through his mind, should we decide to make a more decisive attempt at his shields.”

“Master Aerdo... I leave the final judgement up to you, but I strongly urge you to make a more decisive attempt. I am more convinced now than I was...” Mace glanced at the chronometer “five hours ago that this was motivated by a specific, external stimuli, likely dark. Do you disagree?”

“No.” they said with a sigh. “But I don’t want to underestimate how much underlying factors might have contributed to his response to stimuli, including underlying factors that none of you were aware of.”

The Nautolan Soul Healer stood up, tucking their hands into their sleeves to address the room with classical Jedi serenity. It was a little irritating.

“In any case, we all need to sleep, eat, and meditate. Master Eerin, you have the rest of the day off, I've cleared it with Master Che already. Master Windu, I leave the final judgement up to you, and I am aware that your duties as Master of the Order are unceasing, but I urge you to take some time to center yourself before returning to the council. Commander Cody, I would be more than willing to arrange soul healing for you or any of the Vod, please let me know. Anakin, you will receive a comm later today with further details on your future healing sessions.

They bowed low, then glided out the door.

Bant stood next, bowed individually to each soul, and sped walked out.

Commander Cody cleared his throat awkwardly, “Mace- what should I tell the troops? We’re supposed to have command briefings later tonight.”

“If anyone asks about General Kenobi, tell them its classified.” I’ll schedule a briefing on the subject. Now go find Captain Rex and take care of yourself, that’s an order.”

Cody saluted, first to the high General, then to Anakin.

Finally it was just Mace and Anakin.

“Is there anyone who you trust who I can call to stay with you.” Master Windu asked.

“I can manage on my own” Anakin replied, not willing to give the Master of the Order anything else he could use against him, even after everything.

Master Windu held back a sigh.

He continued once more, making a deliberate attempt to soften his tone. “Anakin- I know we’ve had our differences, but this is not a trick, nor a trap. You’ve suffered a series of great shocks in the last 24 hours and handled them with immense maturity. I myself am struggling to deal with the emotional fallout.”

Anakin looked up at that, surprised. He didn’t seem to be struggling, but maybe that was what made him a good Jedi Master...

“As I told you before, I am not going to begrudge you the comfort of attachment. I’m rather convinced it would do you more harm than good at this point. I don’t want you flying right now, and you don’t have to be alone. I hope we have come to a better understanding today, but I doubt my presence is suddenly a comfort, though please correct me if I’m wrong. Now is there someone I can call?”

Padme ended her call with Master Windu extremely discomfited. She had barely heard from Anakin since he ran out on her the night before last to take care of an apparently extremely drunk Obi-Wan. He had messaged her a few times that night, promising to make it up to her, but had been comm-silent since. She had been starting to get worried, and now the Master of the Order was asking her to pick him up from the temple. Fortunately, she had already cleared most of her meetings for the week well in advance (Courascant leave usually meant THEM time, not that she was jealous of Obi-Wan, of course).

The speeder ride back from the temple was silent. All Anakin would say was that he would explain everything once they were in ‘a secure location.’

The door to the apartment had scarcely closed behind them when Anakin fell into her arms, shaking.

“Anakin, talk to me love, what’s wrong?” She gently guided him to the couch, arranging him so she could hold him protectively.

“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”

She let out a harsh gasp, “No! He can’t have, he would never-”

“I got to him in time, but Padme... he was holding a lightsaber to his heart. It was...really close” He burrowed deeper into the folds of her dress, and she gripped him fiercely.

“Oh gods, is he-”

“He’s physically healing, but he’s still...not all there. I spent all of today locked in a room, trying to figure out if it was a Sith Attack, or an insane vision, or..or me”

“Anakin! What do you mean ‘me’ - Obi-Wan loves you, you-”

“I know.” Anakin interrupted her again, knowing he was being unfair; he was just too exhausted to be patient.

“He told me loved me. He...he...found out about what I did to the Tusken village, You should have seen his face, Padme, he was horrified, but he still told me he loved me, and he was willing to forgive me, even though he shouldn’t”

“Of course he forgave you,” Padme whispered. “You’re not a monster, Anakin, I know you would never do something like that again.”

"And then after we talked, I left him alone and he-” Anakin choked out into her dress.

Tears ran down her face, heart breaking. “That’s- that’s horrible. Anakin...it must have have been a attack, Obi-Wan wouldn’t do that.” she said urgently.

He pulled away, horrified. “I made you cry. I made Obi-Wan cry too. I’m sorry- Padme please, promise me you won’t-”

She grabbed the sides of his head.

Her nails bit into the soft skin behind his ears as she pulled him down so they were face-to-face, vowing, “Never. I swear by the force itself, I will never choose death over life.”

He let out a relieved sigh, eyes fluttering closed.

“Now you,” she demanded

“As long as I have anyone to live for, I swear by the force, I will never choose death over life.”

She pulled him the rest of the way in for a bruising kiss. He lifted her, and they desperately clung at one another as he carried her to bed. They continued like that, clinging and grasping, until exhaustion carried him to sleep. She pulled the covers over top them both and curled around him defensively as the day slowly faded away.

Part XI

#star wars #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #prequel trilogy #potentially triggering #discussions of suicide #references to self-harm #star wars au #bonding? between #Mace Windu and Anakin Skywalker #? in my #hurt/comfort fic #? It’s more likely than you’d think #also I struggle with fix it stories that just never address the big tusken elephant in the room? of course i want everyone to #live happily ever but theres a certain scale of atrocity that i feel u gotta address 2 get there #ugh this chapter got reallly long and im just gonna post it ok? ok.#meh #a lot of this fic is just people mentally going What The Fuck at various registers with different inflections #Because that’s not an inappropriate response to time travel in general! and star wars canon in particular.#star wars au no 27

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Medium Despair

For @sapphireswimming

Danny woke up gasping for air and fighting against his sheets. By the time he’d recognized his surroundings, he’d already rolled off his bed. He dragged in ragged, shuddering breaths. He could breathe. He could breathe. He wasn’t suffocating. He wasn’t at school, in his locker or otherwise. He could move he could stand. He did stand, skin prickling with the memory of electricity.

“Sydney?” he called, softly. “Is that you?” He could see a glowing form in the corner behind his dresser, and with that dream there weren’t a whole lot of other people it could have been, but it was polite to ask. At least in Danny’s opinion.

The ghost slid out, slowly, flickering. “Sorry, Danny,” he said, and he really did sound remorseful.

Danny might believe it more if it wasn’t 2:20 in the morning on a school night, and this wasn’t the third time Sydney had done this. Still, Sydney was something like a friend.

“What is it, Sydney?” he asked. “Did something happen at the school?” Casper High was one of the most haunted buildings in Amity Park, which honestly didn’t make sense.

Danny had done his research. The school was old, sure, but Sydney was the only person who had ever actually died there. That didn’t stop the Lunch Lady, Technus, and a whole host of others from hanging around the place, although most of those others were pretty weak. Hardly strong enough to even interact with Danny or other ghosts.

Sydney shrugged.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Sydney looked down at the ground. The puddle of not-light he cast on the ground – visible only to only Danny and other ghosts – rippled and glimmered.

Danny frowned. “I have fun talking to you during the day, Syd, but I do have to sleep. I’m human, you know?”

“I know,” said Sydney.

“So why are you here?” asked Danny, briefly spreading his arms in exasperation and the dropping them to his sides again. He was still unsettled by the dream he’d just had.

Being close to ghosts while he was sleeping was just a recipe for nightmares. They weren’t always about their deaths, but more often than not…

Sydney’s death was a particularly unpleasant one. Danny did not expect to get back to sleep. Not tonight. Hence his annoyance.

“I need to…” started Sydney, before trailing off. “I need…”

“Sydney?”

“Warn you.”

“About what?”

“Not what they seem,” whispered the ghost. He looked away and phased out through the wall.

Danny’s frown deepened. Usually, Sydney was much clearer than that. Sometimes, talking to Sydney, Danny forgot he was talking to a ghost.

Danny sat down at the edge of the bed and tried to work a kink out of his neck. He caught himself scratching at his skin as if he wanted to pull it off a minute later.

It was always like this since the accident. Especially after he had a dying dream.

Forcibly, he stopped himself. His skin was fine. There was no electricity flickering under his skin. He was alive. He was safe. His body was his body. His body.

(He was not floating above it, light as air, staring at its waxy pallor, at the glassy, empty eyes.)

He was alive, alive, alive.

Awake.

Not dead.

Slowly, he laid back down on the bed. He was alive, awake. A medium, yes, associated with more ghosts than could possibly be healthy, either physically or mentally, yes, but alive. Definitely, clearly, alive.

He didn’t like it when ghosts woke him up. Especially when they came with ominous warnings about the future.

Maybe Sydney would let Danny track him down tomorrow, but Danny doubted it.

“Something’s off,” said Danny, staring up at the tall front of the school.

“Yeah,” agreed Sam, “it’s Spirit Week. When the teachers participate in medieval rituals to brainwash us into supporting the troglodytes that ‘represent’ our school in sports.”

“I was going to argue,” said Tucker, “but that is about what it’s for, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, “I don’t think it’s that. Probably. Unless there’s a ghost that appreciate the pun?”

“You appreciate puns.”

“I’m not a ghost,” said Danny, frowning at Sam.

“That’s true.”

Danny sighed. “I just have a bad feeling about this. I know you can’t see like I can, but… be careful. If you do see anything weird, let me know.”

“Hey, Danny!”

“Oh, I changed my mind. Kill me now, I want to be a ghost.”

Jazz ran up and threw an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “You left so early!” she said. “Are you excited about Spirit Week, too?”

“No,” said Danny.

Jazz paused, looked at Danny more closely. “You look terrible,” she said. “Maybe you should talk to the counselor?”

“Pass,” said Danny.

“You know, you’ll have to talk to me in more than monosyllables at some point.”

“Do I?”

Danny rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go to talk to Mr. Lancer about my speech! Have a great Spirit Week, guys!”

She ran off.

“I will never understand her,” declared Sam. “But I think she does have a point about the counselor. Maybe they’d be able to help with the nightmares? At least the non-ghost-caused ones.”

“All my nightmares are caused by ghosts.”

“Eh,” said Tucker, giving a half-shrug.

“Will it make you feel better if I agree to go?”

“Yes,” said both Sam and Tucker.

“Ugh. Fine,” said Danny.

Danny walked though the deserted hallway, pass in hand, study hall abandoned behind him as he looked for the counselor’s office. He’d never been there before, but it should be around here somewhere, right?

A cold hand settled on his shoulder.

“You must be Danny Fenton! Your sister told me all about you.”

Danny turned to look up at a tall woman. She was dressed a lot more flamboyantly than Danny would have expected.

“Yeah? That’s me. Who are you?”

“I’m Penelope Spectra. Your counselor! Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“Uh,” said Danny. There was something unpleasantly an unexpectedly pejorative and assumptive about that statement. Weren’t counselors supposed to tell you that there wasn’t anything wrong with you? That your feelings were valid.

He shrugged. He couldn’t put his feelings into words.

(Couldn’t open his mouth for fear of cold leaking out past his teeth, his soul exhaled with his breath.)

(Why did he feel this way?)

“Why don’t you step into my office?”

The room was… not what he expected.

“Sorry about the dust,” said Spectra. “I’m just moving in. They upgraded me.” She smiled, showing all her teeth. “So… like I said, your sister told me a lot about you, and I have a few things I’d like to try for your laz—Excuse me. Your difficulty with staying focused. It happens sometimes with traumatic brain injuries, that a promising young mind can be—Well. In any case. I am here to support you and find a way for you to succeed. What’s troubling you?”

Danny’s ginger perch on the dusty chair turned into a frustrated slump. “Nothing,” he said. He pushed himself back up. “I should go—”

“Oh, just humor me,” said Spectra. “There has to be some reason you came. Anxiety? Stress? Social pressures?”

Danny shook his head and stood up.

“Nightmares?”

He sat back down.

Danny leaned over the table to whisper to Tucker during English, when they were supposed to be reviewing vocabulary words.

“Have either of you seen the counselor before?” asked Danny, after what was easily the worst week of his life. He was starting to have suspicions, but…

“Yeah,” said Tucker. “When you were in the hospital. He was pretty cool.”

“He?” asked Danny. “He?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been seeing a ghost for the past week.”

“Ghost therapist? Well, if it’s working…”

“It isn’t. She’s from hell. I swear. A literal demon from hell.”

“Exorcism?”

“Exorcism.”

Jazz didn’t often come to school after hours, but she’d left several important things and she was the student body activity director, voted for and everything.

Important thing #1, her speech, which she had to practice.

Important thing #2, the—what was that?

Already spooked by the late-night atmosphere, she ducked into a doorway and peeked at the place she’d seen movement. There weren’t many classes held down that hallway, and she didn’t come down this way often, so maybe she was just—

No. That was her little brother and his friends conducting some kind of satanic ritual over a wastepaper basket.

Their parents were terrible influences. She was going to give them a stern talking to when—what what what what WHAT—

What had she just seen?

She looked back around the corner to see the… whatever it was dissolve in smoke and fire and shadows. Then Danny and his friends started cleaning up as if this was a perfectly normal Thursday night.

Jazz… Jazz was going to process this. Later.

She turned around and walked straight back out to her car. There was, after all, nothing that important.

“So,” said Danny, leaning towards Sam on the bleachers as he watched his sister give her speech. “Looks like we saved Spirit Week.”

“Never say that to me again,” said Sam.

“But we did. Look at all this spirit-filled people.”

“You were literally the only victim.”

“But Sam~”

“It does seem less grim, though, doesn’t it?” asked Tucker, contemplatively. “You are no longer the goth bird of happiness.”

“Maybe a bit,” allowed Sam. “I think that’s just because everyone’s glad this week is over, though. No offense, Danny.”

“None taken. I’m glad it’s over, too.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2021

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obeymebabes · 4 years

Note

Its sad boi hours and, if you want to, I'm interested in your hcs on what would make the brothers genuinely cry and how a gn mc would comfort them. No worries if you don't wanna do it. Stay safe!

Of course I want to, I tried to keep it somewhat lighthearted. Good heavens this was weirdly really hard for some of them??? Also all my HCs and fanfics are gender-neutral unless stated otherwise hun. 💕

Honestly, they would definitely all genuinely cry over losing MC, so I'll put that out there.

Lucifer

He really did it.

He failed Diavolo.

Not only did he fail Diavolo, he failed both himself, and everyone else.

Unable to take the shame, he hid himself away in his room or his study for weeks.

Luckily you were the only one able to get through to him.

When you first saw him crying over paperwork, you kept him close to you, wiping his face and telling him that things would be okay, he was still one of the most respected demons in all of Devildom.

In an effort to heal his pride, you praised him for being such a great brother, and great friend.

He cherished the closeness and comfort that you provided him.

Mammon

Despite his best efforts of keeping her close, he lost her.

Her being Goldie.

He really lost his precious, prized girlfriend credit card.

In a desperate attempt to keep his heartbroken feelings away from the hands of his brothers, he went to your room.

Upon reaching the inside of your room, he let loose and bawled like a baby.

As much as you didn't want to admit you were absolutely stunned at the idea of him crying over a piece of plastic, you comforted him the best you could.

He hung onto you for like an hour, insisting that he was just a moron like his brothers always said.

This even meant going out on your own to try to find the darned thing late at night with him.

Levi

You, as well as the rest of the House of Lamentation, could hear him violently sobbing from his room.

In the attempt to comfort the precious sea-demon, you knocked at his door.

Of course he yelled for you to go away, before realizing it was you who was there to comfort him in his time of mourning.

When he opened the door to let you in, he looked a mess. Though his room wasn't any better.

Knowing the poor baby was unable to talk through his very unattractive crying, you tried to figure out the problem.

When your eyes landed on his very broken limited edition Ruri-Chan figures and the game remote cracked on the floor, you knew.

He clung to you like a baby, crying into your shoulder as you rubbed his back softly.

A few days after that, you managed to get the money to gift him all of the broken limited edition Ruri-Chan figures, brand new.

You could say he was more than thankful.

Satan

Satan was normally a fairly emotionless guy.

As one can imagine, his main emotion was anger.

While he never showed this flaw around you, it meant he had to get it out eventually.

He typically had ways of calming himself down, reading, cat videos, annoying Lucifer.

However, none of these outlets seemed to be working.

Frustration led him to boil over, tears started streaming down his face.

When you walked in to return a book he let you borrow, you found him with his hands tangled in his hair, crying out of frustration.

Without a word you walked over and pulled his hands from his hair, wrapping them around you. He squeezed you tightly.

Somehow, this calmed him down. Who would've thought the gentle touch of a human would calm the most wrathful demon in Devildom?

Asmo

A high pitched, blood curdling shriek rattled the House of Lamentation. The brothers recognized it was clearly Asmo, sending you to the crime scene alone since you were closest to him.

When opening the door you found a very dramatic Asmodeus, curled up in the corner crying.

Scanning the room seconds before heading over to his side, you noticed the new limited edition palette he had, now laying on the floor, eyeshadow spilled everywhere.

He had just bragged about getting it earlier before it sold out, so he was understandably very upset.

When you met his side, he pulled you close and snuggled into your side, using your shirt to dry his tears.

The intimate contact calmed him, and he stayed holding you for some time before getting up and trying to make a repair to the now damaged palette.

Days later you gathered up some money to replace it for him, thankfully a kind demon sold it to you at a not super crazy price.

He was overjoyed and nearly crushed you with a hug when you handed it to him.

Beel

While staying with you in your room, late at night, he passed out with you by his side in your bed.

You stayed up to finish watching a show that you were about halfway through.

Nearing the end of the show, Beel stirred in his sleep, luring your attention to the giant demon snuggled up in your bed.

He woke up quickly, sitting up and just bawling his eyes out.

Heartbroken at seeing such a gentle being so hurt, you ran your fingers through his hair and hugged him tightly.

He mentioned that he had a nightmare. The same reoccurring nightmare of Lilith that he has. Only this time, instead of seeing Lilith, he saw you in her place, falling to your demise.

You wiped his tears and quickly reassured him that you were here with him right now and that everything was just a bad dream.

Belphie

It was dinnertime in the House of Lamentation and Belphie was still napping since he had gotten home from RAD.

You volunteered to be the one to go wake him, wanting to do a nice gesture for him since his brothers and everyone else at school seemed to feel some type of way about him.

When entering the twin's room, you were greeted with the sight of Belphie hugging his pillow tightly, crying while curled up under the covers.

He quickly tried to dry his eyes when you walked in, not wanting you to see him in such a vulnerable state.

When you sat on the bed next to him and asked him what was going on, he finally spilled.

He explained that he didn't feel accepted, seeing that he was locked away in the attic for such a long time, and word got out that he pretty much committed treason.

Tears once again filled his violet eyes and you were quick to wipe them away.

You reassured him that no matter what, you would always be by his side. It will take some time to get used to the chit-chat that goes on in the halls of RAD seeing as you went through similar feelings when arriving here as a human.

With a gentle hug and a smile, you mentioned that dinner was ready and he followed close by your side down to the dining room.

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hqbbg · 4 years

Text

big and bad.

pairing: matsukawa issei x reader

summary: the woods are a dark place.

genre: fantasy

word count: 1.6K

warnings: i didn’t have this beta’d and this was completed at 5:30am so there might be mistakes but uh, none otherwise that i can think of (but please message me to correct me)

author’s note: heyo! 🤪 I’m back with another HQHQ server collab fic! you can check out the other amazing writers’ works here! i have our dear mattsun for both collabs (and both parts are now posted)!! n e ways as always, I hope you guys enjoy! 💕

part two (18+)

Your legs are shaking and you can feel your knees threatening to give out. The cold air burns your lungs as you continue to run through the dark forest, swatting at branches in your way. You don’t know how long you’ve been running, but you know for a fact that you wish you hadn’t skipped gym class all those years ago in grade school.

After what feels like ages, you finally see a dim light ahead of you through the foliage. As if hit with a sudden burst of energy, you try to push through and feel so close to the end, the light practically within reach. Just as you’re about to get to it, your path is suddenly blocked and you’re shrouded in darkness once again. Halting to a stop, you panic, trying to get a grasp of what just happened.

Suddenly, you no longer feel alone and feel every nerve ending stand on edge. Your heart is pounding in your ears and you do everything in your power to refrain from doubling over to catch your breath. The sound of a branch breaking startles you and you whip around.

“You know, it’s not safe for people to be out alone in the woods at this hour.” You’re unsure of what you’re expecting, but it’s definitely not the silhouette of a tall man standing before you.

You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out.

“What shall I do with you?” His voice drawls lazily and in any other situation, you might consider being comforted by it.

While you can’t see him, you hear him move. He seems to be circling you and you do your best to remain facing him, though you’re beginning to feel your head spin.

“What’s the matter, doll?” You can practically hear him smirking. “Cat got your tongue?” You jump when his voice sounds right up against your ear.

Before you can react, you feel hands grab you and open your mouth to scream, only to jolt up from your bed in a cold sweat. Your heart is still pounding in your chest and you’re breathing heavily.

It was only a dream.

Laying back down, you sigh softly to yourself. Just as you’re about to close your eyes to go back to sleep, you hear your alarm go off and groan. Great.

You practically throw the blanket off and toss your legs over the edge of the bed, willing yourself up to begin your day. Glancing out your bedroom window, your eyes warily linger on the trees of the forest below before you force yourself to get washed up.

When your parents had asked for you to drop by for lunch, you were more than willing to accept, never one to turn down free food. However, as you begin your walk down the sidewalk towards the bus stop alongside the thick brush of trees, you feel a chill run down your spine and you want to go back home. Something just simply doesn’t feel right.

Swallowing your paranoia, you quicken your pace until you arrive at the small bus stop. You can’t help but feel as if you’re being watched, but when you look around, there’s hardly anyone around and their attention is fixed elsewhere. You hesitate for a moment before turning to glance towards the thicket of trees behind you and nearly jump when you meet a pair of dark gold eyes looking back at you. When you blink, they’re gone and the bus arrives.

Throughout the whole lunch, you do your best to forget the morning’s events. Your parents notice that something is off, but you brush it off with an excuse of just being tired. It’s true; you’ve been exhausted these past couple weeks with moving into your apartment while still trying to maintain the various responsibilities of life. Maybe that would explain the paranoia and the hallucinations—that’s what that was earlier, right?

As you step off the bus, the air feels colder and the sun is already setting. Where has the day gone? You should’ve left your parents’ home sooner before the sun had begun its descent. The streetlights around you flicker on to illuminate the sidewalk, but you see that your path home is blocked due to road work that’s scheduled to last all night long.

You resist the urge to let out a groan. It looks like the construction extends through the whole main road and the designated detour will take you an extra half hour to walk around. You look warily to your right towards the heavily wooded area that separates you and your building, hesitating momentarily. In all honesty, it would be faster to simply cut through the trees and if you’re quick, you might be able to make it before total nightfall.

Weighing your options, you figure you’re just being extra paranoid because of your dream—or rather, nightmare—and simply inhale deeply before stepping off the concrete towards the brush.

The wind whistles lowly and the setting feels eerily familiar. As you listen to the crunching of leaves and fallen branches under your feet, you’re reminded of the stories your grandmother had told you as a child.

“Beware of the big bad wolf,” she had said, though her sing-song voice hardly instilled the same fear that was snowballing within yourself at the moment.

You feel like you’ve been walking for nearly ten minutes, so you should be near the edge of the forest now. However, with the sun finally set, it’s harder for you to navigate your steps and the gnawing in your chest blooms. You try to maintain a straight path, but you could’ve sworn that you passed the same tree five minutes ago.

Deciding to take a brief break, you pull out your phone to check the time and ideally pull up a map to help you navigate your way out. Unfortunately, you have no signal so your phone is deduced into nothing but a glorified clock.

As you had felt this morning, it seems like you’re being watched, followed. When you glance around, you’re alone. Right as you turn back around to face forward, putting your phone back into your pocket, you let out a scream in surprise when a man is standing before you, golden eyes looking directly at you.

“I wasn’t expecting visitors so soon.”

There’s no mistaking that you know this voice; it sounds exactly like the one from your dream. It’s hard to see him clearly, but you can make out the familiar outline of his tall figure as your eyes steadily adjust. You see him take a step forward, making you instinctively take a step back.

“No need to be afraid, sweetheart. I don’t bite.” The low rumble of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. He takes another step forward into a small area illuminated by moonlight seeping through the blankets of leaves above and you can finally see his face.

He has a lazy and almost bored look donning on his features, the upwards tilt of the right corner of his lips being the only thing indicating his amusement at the fear in your eyes. His eyes seem to rake over you, as if evaluating you.

“Are you going to kill me?” You try to steady your trembling voice, unable to look away from him.

“Kill you?” He muses as he takes another step forward. You take another step back. “What’s the fun in that?”

“Well, if you’re looking for fun, I have an idea or two,” you say, trying to look for a way out.

“Do you now?” The man is now smirking. “Enlighten me.”

“For starters, you keep me alive.” He chuckles but it does nothing to calm your racing heart. “Second, you either tell me who you are and how to get out of here, or just cut the formalities and go straight to telling me how to get out of here.”

He laughs as he takes another step forward, taking you another step back. You feel your eyes widen when your back presses up against a tree you were sure wasn’t there before.

“How cute,” he says as his laughter dies down. “I think you’ll be fun to keep around for a little longer.”

He takes two more steps forward until he’s towering directly over you, propping his elbow against the bark above your head. He leans down to be at eye level with you and you can feel his breath fan over your face. You turn your head slightly, wanting to avoid him in any way you possibly can.

“Issei.”

“Excuse me?” Looking up at him with a frown on your face, you realize just how close he is and feel your cheeks heat at the proximity.

“My name. I think you’ve earned it.”

You’ve hardly done anything, so you’re not sure what that means. Before you can question him further, he cocks his head to the side slightly.

“Tell me, doll. What’s someone like you doing in a place like this?”

“Currently looking for a way out of here,” you answer truthfully. You know better than to trust a stranger, especially given the circumstances you’re in and the alarms are blaring in your head.

“You’re sure you don’t want to stay? I’m pretty convincing and can make it worth your while.” He smirks down lazily at you.

“I highly doubt that and would like to see you try,” you say, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Perhaps you could’ve worded your sentence differently, a fact emphasized when he leans in dangerously closer to your face so you can feel the ghost of his lips brush yours whenever he speaks.

Your instincts are screaming at you to move, but it’s as if your brain and limbs are disconnected, failing to cooperate.

“Don’t tempt me,” his voice lowers. You hesitantly lift your eyes to meet his and see that they’ve darkened.

Well, that can’t be good.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa x y/n #matsukawa issei

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rocking-space-dragon · 3 years

Text

Family Reunion

So, here’s the Fundy and Wilbur fic that I’ve been working on for the past while! It’s the third thing that I’ve written concerning the DSMP, and I think it’s the thing that I’m proudest of so far!

So uh...Enjoy!

Wilbur & Fundy, 4k words, TW : Violence, Cursing, Nightmares.

When Fundy opened his eyes earlier, he knew it was a dream before even getting out of bed. He’d learned to recognise the signs – a certain weight in the air, a heaviness that made it hard to breathe properly, and an overwhelming sense of being alone. A sigh rocks through his body as he climbs out of bed, rubbing his eyes – going back to sleep immediately never worked, after all. Instead, he makes his way to the door of his home and pushes it open, bracing for whatever came next. What he found, however, was the last thing he’d expected to see in his dreams.

L’manburg.

L’manburg, standing proudly in front of him, flag flying high up above, Wilbur’s flag. There’s a moment of hesitation as he steps forwards; as welcoming as this place should have been, it felt…wrong. There was no wind running through the tree despite the movement of the flags, no sound of people inhabiting the town. Still, he wouldn’t be able to get anywhere by standing here, so he takes a deep breath and begins walking into the city, head slowly turning from left to right to take in the sights – Nicki’s Bakery, his old home, even that massive tower in the background that always seemed to dominate the skyline. His paw runs along the wood of the buildings, the stone of the floor, crouching down to look at a flower growing by the side of the path in quiet contemplation before he continues on, looking for…something. Anything.

A flash of movement catches his eye as he walks, glancing across to see a figure walking through the streets, looking around slowly – a grey figure with a yellow jumper. After a moment’s pause, recollection catches up to him, and confusion about why he might be here is overwritten by the elation of finding someone else in this dreamscape besides the shadowy figure that he’d met in his first dream. Grinning, he makes his way forwards, holding up a paw.

“Hey, Ghostbur!”

When the figure turns around, however, there’s only confusion written across their face – white eyes set deep, heavy in a grey, spectral face, blue slowly running down their cheeks in thick rivers and pouring onto the ground beneath them, staining the frayed yellow jumper. In their hands they hold a broken leash, looking down at it before back up at the Fox in front of them. Around their neck is a red welt, and as they turn their head hangs slightly, as if they couldn’t quite keep it upright.

“I’m…sorry, do I know you?”

He ran. That’s all he could think to do – seeing his father’s ghost had initially been bad enough, but seeing that sallow face twisted into some kind of…whatever that was…he didn’t want to see it. When he eventually comes to a stop, it takes him a second to recognise his surroundings – the tunnel to Pogtopia. He takes a moment, standing and remembering his trek down this same path, clutching that diary close to his chest – the sight of his father, filthy and…different. The venom in his voice. The hatred in his eyes. He’s snapped out of his thoughts by a sound, however – a whistle, loud and piercing, that rings through the tunnels and echoes louder than it should, followed up by a bright light from behind him, the fox immediately spinning around to see the sight of a train filling the tunnel, speeding towards him.

His legs react before he can, immediately breaking into a sprint away from the train, hearing it getting closer and closer before his foot catches on one of the rails and he barely has time to spin around before it’s on top of him and he only catches a glimpse of someone at the front before- Suddenly he’s awake, heart pounding in his chest, tears streaming down his face and soaking into his fur as a sob chokes its way up and out of his mouth and his paws come up to clutch at his head. Another night, another horrible nightmare, denying him any rest and torturing with things that didn’t make sense. Why L’manburg? Why a train? Why anything?

He needed to do something about this.

Now, the fox stands, looking up at the ruins of the house that had once been his, rubble strewn around him as the smell of gunpowder, a far too familiar smell, lingers on the air with smoke slowly rising up into the air from the wreckage in front of him. His eyes are red with the tears that spilled from them twice in the same day, voice raw from the screams that echoed around the crater of what once was his home. His gaze turns, looking down at his hands, clenching and unclenching slowly before he slowly turns and sits on the edge of the steps, taking deep, shuddering breaths until his heart stops racing and he can feel the stone beneath his fingers. He was real. He was alive. This wasn’t a dream.

After a few minutes, he pushes up back onto his feet, brushing himself down and looking up at the sky – the sun was beginning to rise, and it’d be morning before long – not that he really had any reason to care. Still, it’d be nice to go and watch the sunrise from somewhere that wasn’t the smoking ruins of his home, so he takes a moment to think about where he should go – then turns towards the ruins of L’manburg. It’s a well-tread route, so he allows his mind to wander as he walks, thinking back on what he’d learned earlier today – his Father was alive? Not just alive, but 13 years older than when he’d last seen him, 13 years of being trapped in some kind of…limbo space. What did that mean for Wilbur? He’d been distant the last time he’d seen him, so thirteen more years without him…would he even remember Fundy?

…He hoped that wouldn’t be the case.

But, even besides the limbo, the fact that Wilbur had been lying to Phil…it just didn’t make sense, why wouldn’t Will want to tell Phil the truth about everything that’d happened? In his memories, Wilbur was so proud of his accomplishments, willing to fight and die for everything that he’d poured time into, everything that he’d toiled for, his blood, sweat and tears…so the thought of him lying and hiding the truth…it was hard to understand. He shakes his head, stepping forwards and onto the thick glass flooring atop the crater where the city had once stood, gazing down at the massive hole beneath him, as well as the plethora of bloody vines that spilled out from the bottom, wrapping around the huge replica of the L’manburg flag that sat at the bottom. His breath catches as he stares at the vines, thinking back to the events barely a week prior – the death of Foolish, the Betrayal from the Eggpire, the idea that he might lose another canon life to someone he thought of as a friend in an underground chamber…

He barely manages to wrestle his gaze away from the vines, shaking his head to clear his thoughts and hugging his jacket a little tighter around his body, pace quickening towards his destination. He didn’t want to be around this place any longer than he had to be. Eventually though, he’s made his way to his destination – Tubbo’s docks. Somewhere that he’s actually got…good memories. With a smile, he makes his way to the edge of the docks, sitting down and letting his feet dangle into the water, slowly trailing through the gently lapping waves and thinking about the last time he was here – fishing with Philza, talking about the things that he missed doing with Wilbur. Even just the thought is enough for tears to prick at the corners of his eyes, but they’re quickly wiped away as he turns to watch the sun slowly rising above the Horizon, bathing him in the warm glow of the early morning.

Sadly, that warmth doesn’t last.

The sound of footsteps slowly echoes out, the creak of the wood beneath boots, and the slow drag of a cigarette before a voice cuts through the air like a sword through a chest.

“I’ve missed seeing the sunrise, honestly. Sunsets are pretty, but I’ve always loved seeing it coming more than going.”

He didn’t want to turn around. He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and stay where he was sitting until he could open them again and everything would be okay, and his father would still be dead and he’d be getting a proper night’s sleep…but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Instead, he takes a deep breath, slowly turning and looking up to see the face of his father, weary but alive, a streak of white running through his otherwise messy brown hair, gazing out across the water towards the rising sun as the faint glow illuminates the two of them. For a moment, the world seems to stop, as the Fox’s eyes run across that face, searching for something, anything that could answer the dozens of questions that were cycling through his head – and yet, all he could see was the face of his father looking back. The same face that’d shown him love and animosity in equal measure, the same face that he’d seen gazing out from the crack in the cliffside towards L’manburg as it crumbled around him. For the first time since he’d heard the news, it truly hits Fundy – this wasn’t a prank, or a mistake, or anything of the sort.

His Father was alive.

He didn’t know what to feel. Part of him was happy, part of him was scared, part of him was utterly furious, but all of it seemed to blend together in his chest into a tightness that gripped at his heart, staring up at Wilbur as if waiting for something, anything to break the silence.

“What, no hug for your dad? Cmon, it’s me!”

Anger. Anger was DEFINITELY the emotion he was feeling now, as he stands up, facing his father, and slaps him across the face hard enough to send him stumbling back, wide-eyed, cigarette dropping from his mouth and onto the docks below. He could feel tears pricking at the edge of his vision again, paws balled up into fists as he stares him down, clenching tight enough for his claws to dig into his palms.

“A hug? A FUCKING HUG?! How dare you! How- I can’t fucking believe you! You think you can just waltz back into my life like nothing ever happened? Like I didn’t watch you die before you BLEW UP MY HOME?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

He could feel the tears running down his cheeks again, trailing through his fur and staining his cheeks for the third time that day – claws digging into his paws deep enough to hurt, but he didn’t care. He wanted to hurt, he wanted to take that pain and throw it back at the man who’d dared to walk back into his life

“Do you have ANY idea what I – what you put EVERYONE through? What kind of problems you faced, what you left behind? Because, funnily enough, we didn’t get to run away from our problems like YOU did! Like you did when you left everyone behind, when you left ME behind, like you always have, time and time and TIME again!”

“…Fundy, I-“

“No! No, I don’t want to hear it! I don’t want the first thing that I hear from you to be excuses! I don’t! I...”

His shoulders slump as the anger slowly drains out of him, unclenching his paws with a wince as blood trickles from the palms of his paws, slowly turning back away and sitting down heavily on the edge of the porch to gaze at his reflection in the water.

“Do you know what it’s been like, trying to live after your death? I could always tell, y’know! The way they talked, the way they acted, it’s like part of them blamed me, because I was your son, and you were…gone, so they turned to me. And there I was, trying to figure out what the FUCK I was supposed to do next!”

He sniffs, wiping at his nose with the sleeve of the jacket that he’d been given so very long ago, clearing his throat as he continues.

“I spent some time with Phil, since…we never really got to spend time together when you were alive, and we talked about you, but I could…there was always a part of him that was searching for you in me, and that seemed let down when he couldn’t find it. Just like everyone else, when you disappeared, and they tried to fit me into the space you left behind.”

One foot trails through his reflection, scattering it with ripples of water, only to watch as it reformed to show the face of his father standing behind him. There’s a faint creak of wood as the edge of the docks shifts, and Wilbur sits down beside him, looking out across the water – though lacking the smug, proud smile that he’d been wearing earlier, instead replaced with a more contemplative expression. The sound of the ocean lapping against the supports of the dock fills the silence, along with sound of the wind blowing past them – before Wilbur speaks, quietly.

“I…Fundy, I…” He clicks his tongue for a moment, struggling to find the words to say, before sighing.

“I’m not going to pretend I was a good dad. Fact is, I’d say I’m probably one of the worst, and that’s partially because I thought I was doing the right thing. See…when I was a kid, Phil was…distant. He cared, sure, but he was always looking for the next project, the next adventure, and It…meant that he didn’t always pay the most attention to me. Not intentionally, he didn’t mean to neglect me, but…well. So, I did what any kid would do – I tried to impress him. I tried to wow him with everything that I did, so that he’d stop and look at me and go ‘wow, that’s great, Wilbur! I’m proud of you!’.”

He chuckles at that, reaching into his pocket and drawing out another cigarette, soon lighting it up and blowing out a plume of deep blue smoke.

“But, of course, the problem with that was…every time I fucked up, suddenly it felt that much worse. It was bad when Phil didn’t notice that I’d messed up, but…when I messed up and he DID notice, those were the worst parts, because then it felt like I’d just fucked up an opportunity to show him that I WAS worth his attention, and I was always scared that’d be the moment he decided I wasn’t worth it any more…”

He wipes his eyes on that battered brown coat, and Fundy realised that he’d never seen his father crying before. That he’d never heard about what his life with Philza had been like before. His mouth opens to say something, but he closes it quietly as Will continues.

“And then I made L’manburg, and I would send Phil all these letters, telling him about Tommy and the Van, and the battles and the Independence and…about Sally, and about you. And he’d respond, and tell me how happy he was that I was doing something, and making something myself, and then…” As he speaks, his face breaks out into a grin, gazing out as if reliving those same moments, those same years, only to freeze for a moment, falling into a sad smile as he takes another drag

“Then Schlatt happened, and the election happened, and…and I didn’t want to send Phil any more letters about what was actually happening, because…because I was a failure, Fundy. I’d failed at the one thing he’d finally been consistently proud of me about, and the thought of what might happen if I’d told him that, terrified me more than anything else.”

His gaze turns, looking upwards at the steadily brightening sky, rocking his cigarette between two fingers as his smile falls slowly off his face.

“So, I lied. I lied and I lied and I told him everything that I wished was happening, and in those letters I wasn’t a failure, I wasn’t a disappointment, I wasn’t a villain, I was his son, Wilbur, this great, confident, never-say-die figure who…I don’t know was ever real in the first place. And then…he showed up, and every lie came crashing down like the room around me, and I…I told him to kill me, because I was the villain, Fundy, and I was so, so scared that if I stayed alive, that me, that Wilbur that he knew in the letters would vanish. I thought…”

He takes a moment, hands sliding down to tightly grip the edge of the dock, tears running down his face as he grits his teeth through the smile “I thought that if I was dead, then maybe he’d never realise what a disappointment I really was.”

The silence that hangs in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife; even with the ambient sound of the docks around them, it’s thick enough to be suffocating – and it’s only broken as the man releases his grip on the dock below.

“…But, that was selfish of me. I was…SO obsessed with what Phil might think that I didn’t think about other people, that I didn’t…think about you. See, I…wanted to make myself the villain because I figured that if I was the villain in your story, then at least you’d hate me, and that’d somehow be easier than watching you realise I wasn’t the man – wasn’t the father you wished I was. ”

He takes another long drag, blowing out smoke into the cold morning air, smiling weakly and shaking his head slowly

“I still remember when you showed up with that book, and I could see you searching for the Wilbur that you knew, that you were hoping to find back then. I was…a terrible person, in Pogtopia. Y’know, I-“

“…Is that why you always called me your little champion?”

“What?”

“Because…because of Phil. Because you said he was always busy and never really paid attention to you – is, is that why you always called me your little champion? Because you were trying to make sure that I never felt – that I never felt the same way you did growing up?”

“…I mean, maybe. Maybe that was a part of it, but…I called you my little champion because that’s what you were to us. Our brave little champion, the hero of a new nation, our son – you, Fundy. Even without a nation, you’re still my little champion.”

How long had it been since he’d heard that? How long since those words had been spoken about him? However long it’d been, it was long enough for a sob to claw it’s way out of the Fox’s chest, paws running up through his fur and rubbing at his face before turning to face the man next to him, tears streaming freely down his face, dripping onto the wood below. His paws grab at the man’s chest, pulling him in to look at him – to look at his son.

“Why the FUCK would you think that I’d EVER want to hate you?! I don’t care if you’re a villain, or a hero, or a disappointment, or whatever! I never wanted any of that! All I ever wanted was for you to be proud of me! Because you’re MY DAD!”

Those last two words are more of a scream, as Fundy buries his face in his father’s chest, years of unspoken words spilling from his body in deep, shaky sobs, digging his claws into Wilbur’s coat and holding onto him tightly

“All I ever fucking wanted, everything I did…I just wanted you to be proud of me…because I’m so fucking scared that if you’re not, then…nobody else ever will be…”

His hands tense for a moment, lifting up, as if scared to touch the fox currently buried in his chest - only to reach forwards and pull him in tightly, wrapping his arms around him in a hug

“Oh, Fundy…I’ve always been so, so proud of you, of everything you’ve done, of how strong you’ve been…and I’m here, now…my little champion…I’m sorry I was gone so long.”

Tears roll down the face of the man sitting on the dock, holding his son close; letting him sob into his chest, clutching his coat like he never wanted to let go, so scared of the idea that if he did, he might never see him again. His arms pull the fox in close, holding him tightly – as if one hug could make up for so, so much lost time, though he knew it couldn’t. Still, it was a start – and as he sits on the dock together with him, the hues of the morning light steadily fading to blues, he begins to sing a quiet song – one that he’d once sung with his wife – and his son, in quieter, happier times.

"My little champion, what's to say to you? You have my eyes, you have your mother's smile When you came into the world you cried. And it broke my heart…”

#fundy dream smp #it's fundy #fundy #wilbur soot #wilbursoot #wilbur resurrection #wilbur dream smp #dream smp #DreamSmp #dream smp fanfiction #Dream SMP Fic #Dream smp writing #Dream SMP angst #Fundy Nightmares

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mashupxreader · 4 years

Text

Little Buddy.

Hello, Lovebugs.

Din Djanin X Fem Reader

Warnings - none yet but this will be a multi chapter thing that will eventually have lots of smut.

Summary - You need a job and Peli agrees you can work on the Razor Crest for her.

Chapter 2!

You suppose you should have expected this. Out on the street with a pathetic bag filled with clothes and no units to your name. You had been bouncing around on friends couches until you had overstayed your welcome. The problem this time was that you were out of couches to crash on. All your friends were sick of you, not that you could blame them. You had become pathetic with no home, no job, and no drive to change that.

There were few options for you on tatooine for a job. You had no true credentials. You had worked on the junk your father had around his little shop but you didn't have any true training it was everything you taught yourself. After he passed you had nothing. He owed everyone around so they took what they could to repay themselves for his debt. You knew you had one last option but you had been putting it off for as long as possible. Peli had given you a few odd jobs in the past but it had been a while since you had seen her. You essentially had a temper tantrum and stormed off from her hanger. You were young and dumb and in pain from the losses you had. Hopefully, she could see it in her heart to forgive you and let you work to make enough credits to at least get a place of your own.

You made your way down to Peli tail between your legs ready to beg on your knees when an old ship landed on the platform. From the looks and sound of it, the old space junk needed some serious TLC. You continued walking over to Peli catching her eye once the dust had fully settled. She gave you a knowing smirk with a hand on her hip as if to say look whos back. You sighed rolling your eyes. Get through this y/n just a few jobs and then you can come and go as you pleased. You mustered a smile hoping it looked less fake then it felt on your face. You had made it beside Peli when she looked at you before turning to the person coming off the ship. To both of your surprises, it was a Mandalorian. Suddenly the little speech you had been practicing on the way over escaped your mind. You were distracted from looking at the tall Mandalorian followed by a little silver ball floating behind him. This was definitely not a normal occurrence even for Tatooine. He stopped in front of the two of you stiff and serious. The little droids Peli kept around the hanger starting to make their way over to the ship before Mando shot towards one scaring them away.

“Hey!” Peli said ready to straight-up fight a man way bigger than her. “You damage one of my droids you pay for it.” You had to admit Peli had no fear when it came to her turf.

“Just keep them away from my ship,” the modulated voice said clearly not afraid of the shorter woman in front of him.

“You think that's a good idea, do ya? Let's look at your ship.” Peli started to do her walk around clipboard in hand already adding the credits up in her head. She started to do her typical run through that you had seen a million times over. She was a businesswoman who knew how to upcharge a stranger. “Oof! Look at that. Ugh, you got a lot of carbon scorin building up top. Yeah.” she continues looking around poking and pulling as she goes. The Mandalorian was clearly unamused with her little show. She kept mumbling to herself about needing a special tool for this and that it looked like someone was doing target practice on the ship. The Mandalorian cleared his throat to get Peli’s attention.

“I’ve got five hundred imperial credits.” The Mando pulled them out from a small pouch to prove to her he wasn't here to waste her time.

“That's all you got?” Peli said grabbing the credits from him. “Well, what do you think y/n?” You were surprised to hear your name. Honestly, you thought asking for a job would be more painful with pleading and flattery. You paused looking from the ship to the two other people in front of you.

“It will at least cover the hanger,” you said with a shrug. Your haggling skills were never the best and had gotten you yelled at a few times from your father and Peli about upselling to make a living.

“I’ll get you your money,” He said pausing before pushing the button on the little floating orb behind him. Peaking out was a little green creature with the biggest eyes and even bigger ears you have ever seen. It had the smallest little pout probably upset about being woken up from its nap. “I need you to watch him I have a job I need to take care of.” You couldn't help yourself you were drawn to it. Going over to the makeshift pram you reached out to pick up the little thing as it reached out to be picked up.

“What's its name?” You said looking to the Mando as you softly rubbed one of the giant ears on its head.

“I don't know his name. I just call him kid. So we got a deal? I’ll pay for the repairs and for the cost of watching the child.” Peli Hummed from a second before agreeing to his terms. With that, the Mandalorian grabbed a bag from the ship and went off to what you assumed was the job he spoke of.

“Bye Mando,” you said showing the child Mando leaving he cooed moving his ears down sadly. You felt for the little guy being left with two random ladies wasn't exactly what you would want either. “Are you hungry?” you asked the little guy suddenly seeing him brighten at the thought of getting a snackie. You turned around to take him into Peli’s area before being stopped by her in your tracks.

“Nice try y/n, I get the kid you get to work on the pile of space rubble.” Peli had her hands out for the child to be grabbed by her already baby talking to him giving him the pet name womp rat. She started to walk away before turning back to you. “Oh and welcome back y/n.”

You spent the next few days working on the ship with Peli. Every so often she would come over to check your work suggesting different things but otherwise, the two of you fell into the regular rhythm that you had been used to in working with her. The ship was truly in bad shape. Maybe the Mandalorian just wasn't that good at upkeep but he needed to start if he didn't want it to break down in the middle of space. The work was long and made your arms and legs have a familiar ache that reminded you of sleeping on different couches the past year. While working the child would sleep in his little floating pram or play around with the droids. When night would come you would play with him using random object around the shop as toys. His motivation in life however was food. He loved to eat everything and anything he could get his hands on. You were sure you had caught him eating random little creatures around outside. It didn't make him less adorable but you had to wonder where his insatiable appetite came from.

Peli let you sleep on the cot that she had around from the past when you would stay with her. It was very uncomfortable with the metal pushing into your back and sides when you would lay down in it. Yes, beggars can't be choosers but if you could you would choose something with a little more fluff. One of the nights you were laying staring at the ceiling when you heard the child start to stir. At first, they were little sounds like he was dreaming before turning into full-on tears. You snuck over to the orb looking down at the poor little guy. Clearly, he was having a nightmare. You thought back to when you would have nightmares when you were little. Your father would always rub soothing circles into your back to help you feel better. Grabbing the child in your arms you let him rest his head on your shoulder before you started to rub circles onto his tiny back. At first, his little whimpers were loud in your ear breaking your heart as he tried to let the soothing take over him. You lightly shushed him telling him all the typical things like you were there and he was okay. Eventually, after a lot of convincing and a few hiccups after the tears, he fell back asleep on you. You considered putting him back in the orb but you didn't want to wake him. At least that's what you were telling yourself because truthfully the cuddles made you feel so much better. No one had hugged you in so long that it felt nice to be needed.

Waking up you realized that you had slept sitting up leaning against the wall while holding the kid. You were definitely going to be paying for that later when your muscles would be screaming at you asking what the fuck you were thinking. For now, you were just happy that the kid didn't have any more nightmares that night. You could only imagine the things he had seen to end up being in the care of a Mandalorian. You started to hum very lightly to him when you felt like someone was watching you. Looking over you saw the Mandalorian looking at the two of you in your little cuddle puddle.

“He likes you.” the sound of his voice was slightly rough like he was in desperate need of some sleep and water. You nodded starting to stand before realizing your legs were numb from being in the position they were with the kid. Just as you felt like you were about to hit the ground the Mandalorian caught you holding you up while you found your balance. His gloved hands were rough against your skin. His grip was tight but not to the point you felt like he was going to leave a bruise. You gave him a little thanks before placing the child back in the pram. He gave a few little huffs before settling back into his blankets.

“I can show you everything we did on the ship if you want then I can grab Peli.” The Mandalorian simply nodded not giving anything away with that helmet. For all, you knew he could be rolling his eyes and you would be none the wiser. Walking around the ship Mando followed making small comments here and there about your work but overall was satisfied. Turning back to him you finally were able to take in just how much taller he was than you. He was broad and intimidating just to look at. You didn't want to imagine what it would be like having him chase you down as a bounty.

Peli came around the corner with the child following behind. The moment he saw you he made a squealing sound not even caring his father was back from his trip. Mando noticed turning his head to the side clearly surprised the excitement wasn't for him. You went to the child touching his ear softly looking at him closing his eyes. Mando and Peli dealt with the payment as you said good bye to the kid. How did he manage to make you fall in love with him so quickly? You barely noticed Peli call your name to get your attention.

“Oh sorry, Yes?” you said letting go of the kid and taking a step back. Mando looked over at you clearly amused by the way you and the child had already made a bond. It reminded him of how quickly he grew attached to him too.

“I have been looking for someone to watch the kid while I go on jobs. Plus you know your way around a ship. Would you consider working for with me for a couple of weeks?” Did the Mandalorian just give you your free ride off this stupid planet? You didn't think for long before your answer.

“Absolutely.” Mando nodded towards Peli as a final thank you before walking towards the ship the child’s pram following behind him as the kid tried to reach to Mando finally ready for his father’s attention. He really was a man of very few words not that it mattered to you. You ran to your little cot grabbing your bag that had your whole life in it. This was exactly the thing you needed. Running up to Peli she shoved some credits into your hand. “Thank you. For everything. Especially letting me come back after every time I leave.” She rolled her eyes nodding her head to the ship where Mando was waiting for you.

“I’ll always be here for you kid. Be careful out there.” With that, she gave you a little shove towards the ship before walking back to get away from the dust that will be kicked up from the ship. You made your way up the ramp looking back at Peli before closing the ramp. You threw your bag on the floor before crawling up the ladder to the cockpit. There Mando sat in the pilot seat with the child in the seat to his right. You sat down with a small smile on your face.

“Ready?” Mando asked as he flicked a few switches.

“Ready,” you said looking at the kid who cooed in response as the ship began to take off.

#the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x y/n #mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin

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keelywolfe · 4 years

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FIC: Just Swimmingly ch.2 (BAON)

Summary: Jeff has a lot to think about and what better place to do it than at the bar with his best buddy, Stretch?

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags To Come

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

The night wasn’t as young as it used to be, but to be fair, neither was Jeff. After a few hours of sitting on a bar stool, his tailbone would be more than willing to testify on that.

He leaned back against the bar in an effort to take some of his weight off of it, grimacing as he watched the dance floor. Colored lights flashed to the thrumming bass beat over the gyrating dancers and out in the thrashing sea of sweaty human bodies there was a head that was above almost all of them. Stretch towered over most humans and never was it more obvious than right then. The lights reflected off his smooth skull, a living disco ball, and around him other humans were laughing and cheering as they danced.

Edge would be having a conniption right about now and Jeff was a little bemused to find his anxiety having an internal dance competition of its own. Currently it was at ‘chachacha’ levels, watching all those Humans grinding up on Stretch. He didn’t want to think anyone here would hurt Stretch, intentionally or otherwise, but the threat of low HP always loomed. His trust in humanity took a pretty big dip a few months ago outside a Chinese restaurant and he had the scars to prove it.

Jeff took another sip of his drink. His straw crackled against the bottom of the glass as he finished it off, leaving only lonely ice cubes behind and he set it back on the bar as he settled back in for a little spare contemplation.

If he were honest, wasn’t a huge fan of the club scene even before he started dating Antwan. Not that he didn’t like going out but his problems with it were twofold. One, bars sucked to go to alone and back then he didn’t have a lot of real estate in the friend territory and two, it cost money. His disposable cash in those days was a lot like a pink unicorn: nonexistent.

Being friends with Stretch took care of both of those problems but a third loomed up to take their place like an unwanted acquaintance. Put bluntly, Jeff could not dance and until Kevin Bacon showed up to give him a few lessons, he probably wasn’t gonna learn how.

Not that he really minded that much. Guarding their drinks and listening to the music wasn’t a bad way to spend the night.

Besides, Stretch didn’t seem to care if he wasn’t up to evacuating the dance floor. He mostly let Jeff sit at the bar where he tried to look like someone with deep and mysterious thoughts to process instead of the person he actually was, far more likely to accidently spill his drink into his lap than anything else. On either side of him were other people doing the same, a row of wallflowers watching the dance floor with wistful envy.

Mostly Stretch left him to it but sometimes he’d bounce his way back and haul Jeff out for a song, any song, fast, slow, techno-bop, dubstep, didn’t matter to Stretch, he was an equal opportunist when it came to friendly torment and if Jeff felt a lot like Frankenstein’s monster tromping around next to Stretch’s lithe booty shake, eh, that was okay. Sacrificing a little dignity for a friend’s fun times was part of the package.

As far as he knew, Stretch didn’t go out to the clubs often either, but if there was one thing Jeff had learned when it came to Stretch, it was there were no half-measures. If he was in, he was all in, and that included drinking, dancing, and on the weekends, the occasional explosion caused by a thermal reaction. Truly a wide variety of hobbies came into play when hanging out with Stretch and going out to the bars pretty much guaranteed something interesting would happen.

Like the time they met those guys who’d come into town for the last beat poetry night. One of them mentioned liking Stretch’s Intergalactic Beastie Boys t-shirt so Stretch convinced them all to swap shirts and then swapped them around again, until they were all three shirts removed from the one they’d arrived in. Pants were a harder sell and if Stretch were ever hard up for money, he might take up selling ice to penguins because in no time they were all out on the sidewalk, firmly dismissed from Grillby’s over their rampant laughter drowning out the poet’s rambling about the burden of solitude. The Waffle House they ended up at had a less stringent dress code and all of them crammed into a booth to eat greasy breakfast food at two am in their boxer shorts. At least those were all their own and his plain cotton boxer briefs were no match against Stretch’s ‘wanna tickle my pickle’ pair.

He was pretty sure all those guys still followed Stretch on twitter.

He wondered what Edge had thought of Stretch wandering home in an entirely new wardrobe, minus pants. There was no way he didn’t notice, Edge was very intent on fashion, even Stretch’s version of it. Knowing him, he probably made Stretch strip right in the living room and soaked both him and his clothes in Lysol before burning his boxer shorts. The old-new t-shirt Jeff ended up with was hanging in closet even though it was two sizes too big for him. Antwan stole it sometimes for lounging around the house purposes and seeing him in it was always a cheap thrill.

Huh, now that he was thinking about it, he’d gone to the bar more this past year than in his whole life before. Not just with Stretch either, Blue and Papyrus had brought him along for karaoke a few times and that was an experience right there. Their singing was like a vocal interpretation of his dancing and just as painful for witnesses.

He’d even had a drink a couple of times with Red. Well, he’d been a tag along with Antwan but still. Red was still vaguely terrifying, but Jeff had gotten the occasional glimpse under his onion layers. He knew a little of what Edge and Red went through before they came here. His knowledge pretty much barely skimmed the surface, they’d both been soldiers and they might’ve gotten out alive, but not entirely unscathed. Knowing Red’s HP was similar to Stretch’s and he’d still survived? Perspective was a hell of a thing and it paid to look at Red from a slant.

Speaking of perspective, he was definitely liking the music. They were a local band and this place was close to the college, a good spot to hopefully get noticed and work their way up. The bar itself had probably been here for fifty years, the bartop pitted with scratches and scars from college students of yore, the stools definitely up for reupholstering.

It was really no surprise to find out that Stretch knew the current owner. He knew loads of people, wriggled his way into their lives a lot like he’d wriggled into Jeff’s. Only difference was, he didn’t usually let the other person wriggle back and yeah, okay, that metaphor was going in weird places, but the meaning stood. Stretch was good with shortcuts and he knew a lot of people, but he wasn’t necessarily friends with a lot. Jeff was pretty happy to be on the short list.

Knowing people came in handy, too, and bringing Stretch along always came with added perks. Catty only asked him to listen to the bands on the list to get a feel for their sound, but he’d be able to bring her a better report than that since they were going to go meet the band after their set was done. It would give him a chance feel them out, see if they were even interested in participating in the Midnight Monster Jamboree, as Catty had slyly dubbed it. After everything went down in California, they needed some serious good will.

The Monster community had been found not at fault for what happened right away, but Antwan told him court cases would be dragging on for a while yet. When Humans died, other Humans wanted someone to pay, and Monsters were easy scapegoats for unreasonable anger. His team was working their butts off on it, Antwan coming home at night so very tired, mostly falling into Jeff’s arms to sleep and yet still so grimly determined. Jeff couldn’t do much about all that, but he could try his damnedest to get their big public relations event off the ground.

The idea was to have a huge event for Humans and Monsters together and for it to be held in New New Home. Asgore thought that some of the problems with Humans might be a result of them thinking Monsters had something to hide, so what better way to show them who Monsters really were than a chance to see into their supposedly secret lives.

Jeff was on the lowest rung for planning and even from his view, it looked like a nightmare. Security details made up of both Human and Monsters, background checks, food, entertainment. Access was going to be extremely limited and the guest list was daunting; there were going to be some big names in politics and entertainment. That circled back to his job, getting some local bands together for the opening shows. Partly good public relations, but also an earnest desire to help out a few struggling locals with the kind of exposure most groups could only dream about. That was so like Monsters, trying to help others in the midst of helping themselves, but it sure was a lot of damn pegs getting shoved into so many slots.

He didn’t even want to know what Edge’s current schedule looked like.

There was a soft thud behind him and Jeff turned to see the bartender was bringing him another drink. The guy was probably somewhere around his age, unless you were gauging it by his world-weary expression, which probably put him at about right around three hundred.

He must’ve known Stretch, too. When they saw each other, he youthened to a spry two hundred and seventy after a complicated series of fist bumps. As an added bonus, he’d been keeping their drinks topped up and as someone who usually couldn’t even get a bartender to see him much less pour him a drink, Jeff sure did appreciate the VIP service.

He started reaching for his drink, but a sudden tap on his shoulder startled him. He turned around. A guy he didn’t recognize was standing there, not too bad on the eyes and weirdly nervous, enough that Jeff thought he might actually be trying to pick him up before he noticed the guy was holding something out.

“Did you drop this?” the guy said, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. It was a wallet and Jeff automatically checked his back pocket even as his eyes told him it wasn’t his.

He shook his head and the guy nodded, but instead of asking anyone else or handing it to the bartender, he wandered off towards the entrance.

Okay, that was odd. Jeff shrugged mentally, lots of weird people at the bar, maybe he was going to give it to the guy at the door in case whoever lost it noticed when they left.

He forgot about it as Stretch came back from the dance floor, sweat gleaming on his skull and face. That always gave Jeff a little pause, what exact purpose did sweating serve for a skeleton? Maybe he’d ask sometime when he was less busy with work. If Stretch didn’t know the answer to something, the journey to find out tended to be entertaining, and possibly less explosive this time around, although he wouldn’t put the chances at zero.

Stretch grinned at him, still panting, and picked up his own drink, gulping down half of it in one swallow. Jeff couldn’t remember was it was. Stretch tended to order more for the name than the taste, so it was probably something like a slippery nipple or a total screaming orgasm. Whatever it was, a skewer of fruit was floating in it and Stretch fished it out, pulling the cherry off the end with his teeth.

“so what do you think of the band?” Stretch asked, perfectly audible even over the loud music. There was another point of interest; when your voice was produced by magic, it didn’t always obey the rules of sound. “gonna give catty the thumbs up?

“I like it,” Jeff shrugged. He could barely hear his own voice, trusting that magical hearing worked the same way as speaking, “but I’m not the greatest judge of music. That’s why I bring you along.”

Stretch chuckled and propped his elbows on the bar, slouching back. It put him almost at head level with Jeff and the shirt he’d almost certainly borrowed from Edge pulled tight across his ribcage. “think i’m a better simon cowell than you?”

“No, you’re more Paula Abdul, and anyway, two heads are better than one.” Jeff played with the straw in his own drink. “Jokes aside, this is important, I don’t want to mess it up.”

“you’re not gonna mess it up.” Stretch scoffed. He bit a chunk of pineapple in half before polishing off the rest of his drink. “how even? you’re doing double-duty as it is. henry said once they’re finished, we can meet them backstage. i’ll have a chat with them, we’ll see if they’re assholes, and good to go! besides, it’s not like security isn’t gonna give ‘em a good, hard rundown, anyway.”

It was the truth and he knew it, but there was always that niggling little doubt in the back of his mind, that somehow he’d find a way to mess it up, and that would be it. This was so important to the Monster community and his chance to finally payback some of what’d they’d given him. He could do this, Jeff told himself, and he’d do it right.

The band started a new set, something with a low, growling bassline and Jeff turned back to watch, only to freeze as Stretch suddenly spoke again, the single word clear as a bell in church.

“jeff.”

The name caught his attention as much as the tone, Stretch never called him Jeff, it was always Andy or kiddo or whatever nickname was currently floating his proverbial boat. The last time he’d called Jeff by his actual name, he’d been lying in a parking lot in a pool of his own blood. The taste of hot metal was strong on the back of his tongue as he turned back to Stretch, his heart pounding, and some cringing part of him expected to see that friendly face instead as the one that appeared sometimes in his worst dreams, a deathmask with one socket dark and blank, the other strobing orange with grim intensity.

But Stretch only looked like his normal self and when he spoke again, each word was calmly measured and deliberate. "i don't feel right. i think we should go."

Somehow, that was even more alarming, and his worry quickly overshadowed any lingering bad memories that were vying for his attention.

“Sure,” Jeff said, “right now.” He hopped down from the stool. Stretch pushed off from the bar and staggered, leaning hard against Jeff and thank fuck he was light because his height already made it awkward to hold him up. He started to call for the bartender, maybe there was someplace they could sit down in the back while he called Edge, when another guy came up next to them, helping hold Stretch up. Then another on Jeff’s side and he started to protest that he didn’t need help when a voice growled close to his ear.

"Don’t look at me. Keep your mouth shut or I'll kill you."

It was followed by the sensation of something hard butting into his ribs and this could not be happening. This did not happen in the real world, this wasn’t a Jason Bourne movie, there could not be a gun pressed to his side right now. Even his own fear was sitting on the sidelines, pushed out by disbelief as Jeff stumblingly followed the guiding arm around him leading towards the door. The crowd reluctantly parted and next to them, Stretch was shuffling along, his eye lights blown wide and fuzzily diffused. He started sagging, his skull lolling back on his shoulders and around them were murmurs, people starting to notice.

“Hey, what’s going on? Stretch?” From the direction of the bar, and Jeff glanced back wildly to catch the bartender watching with dawning concern. There was no time to say a word, to even mouth a desperate ‘help’ before he was forcibly swung back around and pushed through the door.

The cold night air was like a slap in the face, sobering, and fear was starting to sink its teeth in past his disbelief. The guy next to him was keeping back out of his line of sight and he could only barely see the one on Stretch, dark hair, taller, burly, did he have a gun, too, who were they and why—?

By the entrance, the bouncer looked up in surprise as they walked past. “Hey, Stretch, you guys, okay?”

“Fuck off!” The man holding onto Jeff barked and the gun swung towards the bouncer. There was a beat of incongruous silence broken by the strains of music coming from inside the bar, then a girl screamed, the waiting crowd scattering.

“Fuck! Get them in the car!” A different voice, loud and panicky and he caught another glimpse of dark hair before he was shoved forward again. He stumbled, almost falling to his knees among the cigarette butts that scattered the asphalt, and the memory of another parking lot was strong, the swell of panic gagging him.

He didn’t resist as he was pushed towards a van, the side door sliding open and then he was inside it, collapsing across the backseat.

Weight dropped directly on top of him with a clatter of bones and Jeff grunted, trying to push Stretch off of him enough to sit up. Only to lose his balance again as the van squealed away from the curb, the tangle of his own limbs catching with Stretch’s limp ones.

A new voice barked from the direction of the driver’s seat. “Get their phones, hurry up!”

Rough hands grabbing at them, and Jeff instinctively tried to recoil, but there was nowhere to go. His phone was yanked from his pocket and Stretch didn’t say a word, only breathing with a slurry snore into Jeff’s ear. There was the sound of a power window going down, of tires squealing against asphalt and the inside of the van was too dark to see.

Not that it mattered. Rough hands hauled Jeff upright and the person they belonged to was wearing a ski mask like a fucking heist cliché. Jeff choked back a hysterical laugh, but even panicked amusement took a backseat when ski mask demanded, “Okay, both of you need to strip.”

Jeff only stared in mute horror, barely comprehending as a duffle bag was suddenly thrust at them.

“Change into these,” Ski Mask ordered, “Don’t get any funny ideas.”

There was a pun there, Stretch would have been able to think of one. Would have if he wasn’t lying slumped across the seat. His sockets were still open, but his eye lights were dim and unseeing, the lights were on and no one was home, not quite a pun but it’d have to do.

“Please, don’t hurt him,” Jeff said. He tried not to look at the guy with the gun as he carefully opened the duffle and pulled out the clothes inside, choosing his words with the same care. “He’s…he’s fragile, just a punch and you could kill him. Please.”

“Then don’t make us do anything that’ll get him hurt.”

Good advice from a shitty source.

Jeff scrambled into the oversized t-shirt and sweatpants in the bag, then helped the other…what, kidnapper? Asshole was the strongest contender in his head and that was what Jeff went with. Helped Asshole #2 get Stretch change into his. The guy was brusque but not ungentle, at least, and the second they were finished, the van pulled up next to a dumpster. A fourth asshole sitting in the front seat hopped out, tossing all their clothes plus the bag into it. Four against two, not including guns, not the best odds. Like Jeff would have been much help even if it were mano a mano. He sure as hell wasn’t a fighter past panicked desperation and he wasn’t about to hinge Stretch’s life on that.

“Now, sit back and relax,” said Asshole With A Gun. “You two behave and no one gets hurt, okay?”

Jeff knew a lie when he heard one. He nodded anyway and huddled into the seat, one arm looped around Stretch to offer what feeble protection he could. His skull resting in Jeff’s lap was a familiar weight from movie nights and Netflix marathons. His unconsciousness was not, but he was alive, they both were. It was a place to start.

Jeff kept silent, petting the smooth curve of Stretch’s skull as he watched the streetlights flash by and waited to see what came next.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #original undertale characters #by any other name

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fonulyn · 4 years

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fonulyn’s 2020 in fics

this is kind of exciting since in 2020 I did get a lot writing done, and it marks the second year in a row that I’m able to actually make one of these posts after that horrible not good at all terrible disastrous three and a half years when I wrote absolutely nothing. so it’s a triumph to get another one of these up! personal victory haha.

in total, in 2020 I wrote 148 fics, ranging from like 200 words to 34k (idk if those short things can be called fics but i just did). by pairing, there’s

13 of Joe/Nicky

58 of Piers/Leon

56 of Chris/Leon

(1 with Piers/Leon and Chris/Leon)

5 of the ot3 (Chris/Leon/Piers)

11 of Krauser/Leon

3 of Wesker/Chris (lmao still can’t believe this)

1 of Chris/Leon/Krauser

so. in retrospect, i did okay.

it’s over 300 thousand words and I am kind of. surprised. and that is not counting the approximately 50k of wips i’m ignoring :’D

I’d also like to take a second to thank everyone who has ever sent me nice messages, commented on the fics, left reblogs or kudos, and the like. you’re what kept me going, I wouldn’t have gotten even half as much done otherwise.

without further ado, links to all of the fics under the cut! they’re organized by pairing, and the links take you to tumblr posts (bc I’m lazy) and a lot of them have a link in the post that takes you to ao3. (also can you see I put ~~so much~~ effort into naming the tumblr ficlets :’D feel free to laugh at me)

Joe/Nicky

a dog by any other name | 1,5k | The one wherein they end up owning a dog.

within the heart a flame of desires | 5,0k | Nicolo watches Yusuf have sex with others, desperately wishing he was with him instead. Until things change. He much prefers having Yusuf all for himself.

the world will wait | 2,4k | The one wherein Joe takes a lot of naps and the whole team gets to relax.

catch this | 650w | Every time Joe gets distracted (by Nicky), Andy tries to take him by surprise.

nobody’s perfect | 1,9k | Even immortal warriors have their weaknesses, Nile learns. Those just aren’t what she expected.

only in these arms | 780w | Nicky has trouble sleeping alone. Andy is a decent substitute, but only when Joe returns so does Nicky’s ability to get a decent night’s rest.

(please don’t explain) that time in Malta | 580w | Nile doesn’t think at first it would even be possible for Joe to be embarrassed. By anything. Until one evening, they talk about Malta.

cool it down boys | 400w | Andy gets no sleep. She gets revenge, though.

cowboy, baby | 340w | Nicky has the fashion sense of a sack of flour, and he is fine with that.

that day is not today | 4,9k | They struggle through the whole lab-experience. It isn’t the time yet to forgive Booker.

tea, soup and tlc | 2k | The one wherein Joe is not sick. At all. Nope. He isn't.

two drinks too many | 770w | Nicky is a little drunk. Joe loves him anyway.

safe haven | 3,9k | The one wherein everyone gets quality cuddles from Joe.

Piers/Leon

it was you that I found | 23,4k | Leon doesn’t really do relationships. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he always seems to be so bad at them. Of course entirely by accident he manages to build one without even realizing it.

unexpected visitor | 690w | Piers is forced on bed-rest. At least Leon stops by.

got me all tied up (never let me go) | 4,0k | Piers doesn’t like suits. Leon loves Piers in a suit.

not so subtle | 210w | “Soo, were you checking me out all night, or was that just my imagination?” Leon asks suddenly, Piers chokes on his drink in surprise.

nighttime fools | 4,8k | Piers and Leon get arrested for public indecency. It’s not their fault, honest.

piers isn’t sick, really, he isn’t (he is) | 670w | “Oh, hi,” Piers said immediately, a goofy smile slipping onto his face. Man, he was happy to see Leon. So happy to see him.

so you’ve met Xena | 620w | “Xena?” Leon turned to look at Piers, decidedly unimpressed. “You named your dog after the Warrior Princess?“

you’re cute, you know | 680w | Piers took the opportunity the second their gazes met. He grinned, as charmingly as he possibly managed, and said “You’re cute, you know that?“

kiss the nightmares away | 470w | Sleepily Piers blinked, trying to make his eyes work properly. He squinted at the digital clock on the bedside, and its harsh red numbers that told him it was 3:30, and confusedly he turned to frown at Leon. “Why aren’t you sleeping?“

smooth talking, Nivans, very smooth | 1,4k | Piers can not control what comes out of his mouth.

dream a little (dirty) dream of me | 1,3k | Piers wakes Leon up. That's it.

your shirt is my shirt | 950w | With a sigh Piers grabbed the only shirt available that wasn’t battery operated and obnoxious. It was Leon’s, so old that the print had faded completely, leaving only faint outlines behind. And when Piers pulled it on he grumbled again, realizing how tight it was.

here for you | 620w | Leon can’t sleep, but somehow Piers makes his anxieties bleed away.

grand plans | 260w | “Are you seriously going to wear that?”

new puppy | 430w | “Hey there little guy.” Leon bent down to pick up the little puppy, straightening again to hold it against his chest. His hands looked almost comically large as the dog was so tiny, and carefully he cradled it close.

a little bit funny | 850w | So maybe Piers hadn’t slept properly in days, and the sleep deprivation was making him a little hysterical, but he didn’t even remember when a stupid comedy would’ve made him laugh so much.

for now our time is here | 4,4k | When Chris had told them to wait up and left them alone for a while, this probably wasn’t what he’d been expecting, but the second he’d closed the door behind himself the tension that had been brewing between Leon and Piers had snapped like a cord.

wanting too much | 1,1k | “Fucking hell, never do that to me again,“ Leon huffed out, clearly relieved beyond anything.

the prettiest agent with the prettiest hair | 1,2k | Piers stress-braids. Leon doesn't mind. And besides, Piers always undoes the braids whenever he's done with them. Until one night he forgets.

you can be the air that i breathe | 1,0k | It wasn’t the first time Piers got punched in the face by a gigantic BOW so hard that the hit sent him flying. It was, however, the first time he was sent careening off a bridge and into the river below. And it was, definitely, the first time Leon saved his life.

before I found you | 890w | The second Piers realized that the spikes covering the monster actually came off, and it was able to shoot them towards its attackers, it was already too late for him to react.

you don’t need to stay | 950w | Piers did his best to take care of Leon. And as much as Leon appreciated it, he didn’t want to be a goddamn nuisance.

need me, baby, just a little stronger tonight | 2,1k | Leon really has to practice perfecting his poker face. At least he gets what he wants in the end.

be my valentine | 920w | “Are you sure?“ Piers asked for the tenth time, frowning down at the bar of Fazer blue chocolate. “I still think it’s… not a lot?”

you're the world that I wanna discover | 7,5k | The one wherein they buy a house, fall even more in love, and Leon reaches a breaking point.

call me (tell me what you feel) | 1,7k | Leon is stuck at the airport. At least he gets a nice phone call with Piers.

incentive to stay alive | 1,0k | "Hey, Nivans, wake up,” he tried, but there was no answer, and he couldn’t help but let the worry in his voice. “Piers. Don’t you dare die on me. Chris would kill me if I let anything happen to his best sniper.”

blanket hog Leon | 880w | Grumbling, Piers turned around, and as he’d expected Leon was cozily wrapped in at least four blankets, leaving nothing for Piers, who was currently freezing his ass off.

I give you all I am | 2,0k | “Leon?” Piers approached in quick steps, watching recognition flicker in Leon’s eyes as he lowered his own weapon too. Leon was slumped against the wall, hunched over and holding his side, and there was something feverish about his eyes. Yet as soon as he realized it was Piers he gave a shaky grin, even if that was all he managed.

why are the gorgeous ones always taken | 810w | Piers blinked his eyes open slowly, expression scrunched up, and it took a long moment before he managed to actually focus his gaze on Leon’s face. When he did, a smile immediately bloomed on his face, and he even tilted his head a little. “Have I died and gone to heaven?” he croaked out, his voice rough from lack of use.

still intact | 1,1k | It took a week before the level of painkillers was correct and Piers woke up with a gasp instead of a scream. And the first thing he asked was for someone to kill him.

of guns and ...guns | 270w | Leon likes the way Piers handles his rifle. There’s drool involved.

always fashionable | 540w | Apparently having a crush on the well-dressed, professional Leon translated into being absolutely fucking in love with the sleep-mussed and squinty Leon.

misplaced phones and revelations | 660w | Chris finds Piers’ phone. Which turns out to be Leon’s phone. The two turn out to be dating. Chris feels kind of blind.

yee-haw! | 1,0k | Leon rides Piers. Wearing a cowboy hat.

you’re cute when you’re angry | 620w | When he’s stressed, Piers washes the dishes. Angrily.

want to drink (with) you | 1,1k | Piers is an embarrassing drunk. Leon loves him anyway.

and each one of us is a path somewhere | 22,2k | Piers gets thrown twenty years back in time. Into Raccoon City, 1998. He’d heard about what Leon went through that night, but he never thought he’d have to actually experience it himself. Together with bright eyed rookie Leon.

hold me close | 560w | Leon falls asleep against Piers’ shoulder.

goatee man | 890w | Piers thinks growing a beard might make him look more manly.

promises kept | 2,9k | Leon finds out Piers isn't dead after all. He's just locked up in a BSAA research facility with no one allowed in to visit.

stay with me tonight (stay until the end of life) | 2,2k | Leon doesn’t know I’m contacting you, but a fair warning, because I’m worried. He was found unconscious on the bathroom floor at 10AM. They took him to the hospital, but he checked himself out. Look after him, okay?

4am | 760w | “What can I say,” Piers grinned against Leon’s neck, “I was dreaming of you.” He had no reservations about moving his hips, letting Leon feel just how nice the dream had been.

caffeinated | 550w | Someone gives Piers coffee. Leon knows what to do with that excess energy.

and i'm you and you're me | 7,0k | The one wherein Leon and Piers accidentally swap bodies.

girls’ day in bed | 780w | Piers and Leon wake up one morning with boobs and other assorted lady parts. It’s a fun day. (Spoiler alert: they have a lot of sex.)

worlds apart | 3,2k | Krauser kidnaps Piers to lure Leon to him. (feat. past Krauser/Leon)

not again | 530w | Watching Piers’ mutation brings Leon some very unfortunate flashbacks. (feat. past Krauser/Leon)

gorgeous | 300w | Piers calls Leon gorgeous.

the most comfortable pillow | 350w | Leon falls asleep with his head on Piers’ lap.

beautiful | 840w | Even after losing an arm and ruining half of his face, Piers is the most beautiful thing to Leon.

as seen in adult films | 580w | Piers doesn’t know one damn thing about dishwashers. He volunteers to fix one anyway.

never letting go | 260w | Leon is goddamn comfortable right here. He isn’t going to move a single inch.

nose kisses | 390w | Piers is cute when he’s cranky. Just ask Leon.

no other half could ever make me whole | 6,3k | The one wherein they get a scare and there's a proposal.

the luxury of being held | 690w | The fabric of Piers’ hoodie is the perfect place to hide. (feat. Theo’s amazing art)

just one step from heaven, one step from paradise | 2,7k | The one wherein Piers makes sure Leon doesn’t freeze, and they enjoy their vacation.

all is fair in war, love and Mario Kart | 600w | Piers sucks at Mario Kart.

Chris/Leon

if i never see all my dreams come true, the one that mattered the most was you | 5,9k | Chris enlists Leon’s help on a mission as a clever ruse to make the man take a break he so obviously needs.

and I don't want to know how slow the time must flow | 11,1k | Chris and Leon try to fight their way out of a castle and feelings take over.

you are my heart, you are my home | 3,2k | Chris is sick, and he’s being extra dramatic about it.

from the gates of longing | 5,5k | Chris volunteers to take Leon home, but ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for.

how to accidentally get adopted - a guide by Piers Nivans | 2,3k | Piers accidentally keeps calling Chris dad, and Chris and Leon sort of unofficially adopt him.

right here by your side | 1,9k | When Chris shows up to check up on Leon, four days into his self-imposed flu-exile, at first Leon wants to just throw him out. But then it turns into a relationship-building moment and suddenly he can’t mind all that much.

about time | 1,8k | Leon is freezing. Chris warms him up.

yet you'll lose yourself in me | 3,3k | The one wherein Chris is generously proportioned and Leon kind of loves it. (whispers: size kink)

beyond tomorrow | 1,7k | Leon ends up in the hospital after a mission, Chris hurries to see if he’s okay. Claire is already there.

look at those heart-eyes | 180w | Quickly Chris shook his head, reluctantly pulling his attention away from Leon.

there’s a cat in the sink | 220w | “There’s a cat in the sink, and we don’t own a cat.”

from the future | 300w | It’s 1998 and Leon comes face to face with himself, from 2017.

surprise redfield | 250w | “Don’t worry,“ Chris says, nonchalantly as if it’s an everyday occurrence that he’s standing in Leon’s kitchen.

need this feeling to last (there's no denying) | 2,4k | “Why don’t you fuck me yourself, you coward!“

something solid, something good | 520w | Chris was so warm, and that together with all the glorious skin-on-skin contact made Leon happily sink back into the embrace.

come closer | 520w | Leon is done with Chris being so careful around him.

your arms around me | 690w | Chris woke up cold and alone.

a needed break | 440w | Sometimes Chris got so single-mindedly stuck on a task that he forgot everything around himself.

the iron maiden | 820w | Suddenly it was hard to breathe, like he couldn’t fill his lungs with oxygen no matter how much he tried, to the point that his vision started to get blurry.

robin hood: chris in tights | 480w | Chris’ face was twisted into a theatrical grimace as he tugged a little on the green tights we was wearing. They were like painted on and although he didn’t really have body issues in general, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about it.

luckless romance | 4,0k | Leon and Chris turn a drunken argument into something better. (Please note: The link takes you to the last part of six.)

take my hand | 920w | The worst part, by far, is not seeing anything. There are sounds, people talking like he isn’t even in the room, machines beeping and doors opening, quick busy steps against the floor.

let me take you to the edge of the stars and back again | 3,0k | Chris takes his sweet, sweet time before he gives Leon what he wants.

I’m going to seduce you | 1,1k | Jesus Christ, they’d had sex. Leon groaned again, this time less because of the headache and more because he felt so unbearably dumb. He’d probably had the best sex of his life, and he couldn’t remember it.

a little help | 430w | Those fucking idiots, Claire thought for the millionth time, as she watched her brother give the biggest dumbest heart eyes at Leon, who was blissfully oblivious about everything going on around him.

the way to anyone’s heart (the answer is food, good food) | 2,4k | Chris asks Leon to teach him how to cook. (Spoiler: Leon doesn't know how.)

oh the horror | 270w | “I seriously don’t understand why you want to watch this shit,” Leon groaned, pressing his face into Chris’ chest.

jealousy | 670w | Chris swallowed hard, downed the last of his beer, and took the leap. “I’m jealous okay.”

twist me up | 510w | Sure Chris had always known that Leon was flexible. Sure he had seen him even do these weird-ass yoga poses more than once. There was nothing new to it.

meet the parents | 600w | Leon brings Chris home for Christmas.

precious cargo | 930w | Chris lugs Leon around like luggage.

it's always been you | 870w | The hardest thing for Leon was when someone he cared about was in danger but there was nothing he could do about it. And then Chris fell into a ravine.

come away with me (to another world) | 2,0k | Leon finally gets a vacation.

first time sucker | 930w | “I don’t know, because it’s fun?” Leon said. “I promise you, you’re missing out.”

read my scars | 1,9k | Chris learns about Leon's scars.

battered and bruised | 650w | Ignoring the bruises and scrapes he had, Chris turned around and sprinted towards Leon, gritting his teeth against the strain moving put on his side.

a different kind of proposal | 500w | “If you keep fucking me this good,“ he breathed out, unsure if Chris even heard the words, “I’ll have to marry you.“

welcome home | 370w | The door had barely fallen shut behind Chris when Leon was in his personal space, grabbing him by the lapels of the trench coat he was wearing so he could pull him in close for a kiss.

I’d always choose you | 280w | Ada was something they didn’t talk about. When someone, anyone, brought her up Leon clammed up and changed the subject. And Chris had tried to be understanding, had tried to be patient, had tried his very best to respect Leon’s boundaries with this. But Chris was only human.

fuck or die | 1,7k | Chris gets hit by a weird plant, and his hard-on just will not go down. Until Leon takes matters into his hands.

i need a hug | 470w | “I think,“ Leon sighed, but then it was like all fight bled from him and he slumped a little forward. “I need a hug.“

oh no there’s only one bed | 990w | “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just one night. I’m sure you’ve slept with worse persons than me.”

the butt that became a pillow | 420w | Chris falls asleep on Leon.

like father like son | 2,8k | Leon finds out he has a son.

monster magnet | 1,1k | Leon didn’t know when it had become something he recognized so easily. When had it become so normal for mutated creatures to look at him with such unadulterated lust.

please be okay | 620w | Leon faints from sheer exhaustion.

like father like... grandson? | 4,1k | Liam proposes to a girl but ends up with Piers anyway. Chris and Leon are the friendly neighborhood grandpas. Their grandson is adorable, and Leon thinks he takes after him. Obviously. (feat. Piers/OMC)

black lace | 790w | Chris gets to come home to Leon in thigh high black lacy stockings and matching lingerie, instantly sending Chris’ brains into an overdrive.

at least let me help | 790w | Leon opens the door an inch, Chris uses the given opportunity to slam it wide open. Metaphorically speaking.

bridal style | 200w | Leon refuses the medical check up. So Chris carries him.

dance with me | 1,0k | Wedding planning with two schmoopy idiots in love.

drunken cravings | 480w | Chris and Leon are drunk, hungry, and incapable of cooking.

blow me | 650w | Chris gets his brains sucked out through his dick.

Claire knows best | 610w | Chris tries to set Leon up with Claire. Then Claire does set Leon up with Chris.

chase the demons away | 940w | Chris struggles with nightmares, Leon is there to hold him through them.

dance me to the end of love | 550w | Leon struggles to learn to dance.

Piers/Leon, Chris/Leon

fate changed (we keep loving as if the story isn't over yet) | 34,3k | In hindsight, Leon knew the second he opened the door and saw Chris standing there, dressed in his service uniform, mouth pinched to a grim line and unable to meet Leon’s gaze straight. There was only one logical reason for it, only one way to explain why he was standing there like he would rather be anywhere else, and Leon almost slammed the door right in his face. -- Or the one wherein no one really knows how to handle their grief, but somehow life goes on anyway. (I’m still so proud of this one negl)

Chris/Leon/Krauser

hearts beating fast (let's make this moment last) | 5,7k | Chris gets invited in for a threesome. The clever thing would’ve been to refuse, knowing his unrequited, helpless feelings. But then again, he’s just a man.

OT3

double the fun | 3,1k | Truthfully, Leon hadn’t thought his day could get this much better. Everything had gone wrong from the second he’d woken up and he’d already written the day off entirely, until the moment Chris had looked him dead in the eye and asked “How do you feel about two at once?”

of cuddles and blanket forts | 620w | Piers and Leon build a blanket fort. Chris would think they’re idiots, but they might actually be kind of brilliant.

hair straightener or waffle iron? | 310w | Chris and Piers break Leon’s hair straightener.

the last piece of the puzzle | 2,7k | The one wherein two becomes three.

not alone | 2,3k | Completely on accident, Piers and Chris happen to be there to save Leon from a tight spot. Cuddles ensue.

Krauser/Leon

drive me crazy (your eyes made me crave for this) | 2,3k | It was the best sex Krauser had ever had in his life. That’s why he kept coming back to Leon, kept saying ‘yes’ every single time the man as much as hinted that he might be up for meeting. He was getting off, and he was enjoying every second of it, and that was the extent of it. There certainly weren’t any feelings involved. None. None at all.

enjoying the view | 200w | Krauser likes ass-watching.

carry me to bed | 440w | Slowly Leon was coming back to his senses. Sweat was cooling on his skin, the hard surface of the table underneath him starting to feel uncomfortable.

and I lied that we would be fine | 1,1k | Leon knows he isn’t supposed to be doing this. There’s a vague recollection of something more important, something he should be focusing on, but the vast majority of his world has narrowed down onto the slick slide of their bodies, on the cheap scratchy sheets on his skin, on the sound of Krauser’s voice in his ear, and he can’t bring himself to care.

yet never enough | 1,9k | Krauser likes mirrors.

of wanting | 400w | Leon’s laughter echoed in the room as Krauser pinned him against the wall, before shutting him up with a ravenous kiss.

better with you | 590w | Despite knowing Krauser had his back, Leon was genuinely surprised when the man sat down right next to him instead of telling him to suck it up and get moving.

breakfast | 530w | Lately things had slowly begun to shift. And Leon wasn’t sure yet what was going on. Or how he felt about it.

kill me now | 900w | It was more than clear how much Krauser enjoyed their frantic attempts to kill one another, and Leon’s traitorous body shivered in response, the memory of times long gone returning like no time had passed at all.

lust that I've already spilled | 1,4k | “C’mon, Leon,” Krauser taunted, grinning as widened his stance. “This cock isn’t gonna suck itself.”

will you just look at me | 650w | Krauser refuses to do feelings.

Wesker/Chris

I am the light that shall lead you to darkness | 1,8k | In all honesty, Chris wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up here: a panting mess, bent over a massive wooden table with Wesker holding him down laughably easily.

the light to drown in darkness | 2,0k | Wesker craves Chris. So Wesker takes Chris.

love-hate-(obsession?) | 470w | Wesker is a lovesick fool. If he wasn’t also a homicidal maniac, Jill would almost feel sorry for him.

#the old guard #resident evil #kaysanova #chreon #metaltango #nivannedy #chrisker #kreon #idk what i'm forgetting it's 2 am and i've spent seven hours on this #have pity on me :'D #my fics #2020 #this was so much work #i am praying for the links to work properly #so i don't need to touch this again nnhhh

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mistaeq · 4 years

Text

➵ fugo + katherine's fluff alphabet [@pr3sa 's birthday gift]

pannacotta fugo x katherine lancaster [@pr3sa 's vento aureo OC]

arguments: fugo's a feral man, so his anger issues would be really triggered, if he happened to argue with kathie. luckily, he's learning to manage his issue, thanks to his wife directly, and he'd never do anything to her while angry.

babies: he keeps on denying it, but he's a better father than he likes to admit. he's always saying he's the worst, but the truth is kathie is grateful everyday, for he's the man whose children she gave birth to.

cuddles: pannacotta's a sweet man, but i won't deny katherine probably has to be the one to pull him into a well deserved session of cuddles. he's never sure about it at first, but as he gets used to his wife's arms' warmth, he'd rather not go away. just like showering.

dora's random hc: okay here's an interesting headcanon about katherine and fugo. katherine is best blueberry girl with an amazing voice and amazing skill with music, super beautiful girl, and fugo's just a lucky hoe because he gets to kiss her everyday. fuck you fugo. oh and their creator is awesome. like really.

effects: fugo changed completely when he got to know kathie. she always accepted him the way he was, and as a way to thank her, the boy trusted her completely and evolved day by day into the new man he is.

first date: you know how pannacotta's iq is incredibly high and stuff? well, throw it all out of the window, because during his first date with kathie, his words got stuck in his mouth the whole time, and couldn't manage to pour his heart out properly.

giggle: everyone admitted that since katherine and fugo started dating, the man's become way more lighthearted about stuff, and thanks to her, he can be heard giggling even at midnight, probably thinking of an inside joke of theirs.

honesty: he knows how much his wife suffered for men lying about their intentions in her regards, but he's always been more than honest about his love and appreciation for her.

indoor: sometimes the couple happens to be stuck indoors because of bad weather, for example. when they don't cuddle, fugo would probably try to get katherine involved in playing a board game. chess and monopoly are his favourites.

jealousy: he used to be jealous of the gang at first, but now he trusts both his friends and above all his wife. still, when a man he doesn't know gets too close to her, fugo sometimes gets suspicious or worried. just until his doubts don't disappear.

kiss: oh please katherine, shower this man in kisses and tell him he's worth a lot, fugo will melt. pannacotta enjoys being kissed more than being hugged. kisses are part of those kind of things he sees as more intimate than hugs, just like lovemaking and so on.

love letter: pannacotta is so shy, come on. under that thick layer of anger, lies one of the shyest people ever. he'd definitely use love letters to communicate his love to kathie sometimes. not the most romantic she's ever read, but she's happy.

miss you: oh man. those times when they've been apart after fugo left the gang. without katherine by his side, pannacotta felt just like his life could be ruined. he could have gone with them, he could have protected her. fuck. he was regretting his actions so much, praying he would have been able to see her again, alive.

newborn: after kathie gives birth to their newborn baby twins, he feels like he could run around the moon with his bare feet only and come back on earth. he's gonna definitely cry, maybe just not in front of his wife. man is so happy he can't hold back.

oh no: he doesn't pull many pranks on katherine. she's definitely and easygoing girl, but he knows he lived through some traumatic experiences, and doesn't want to scare her, even for a prank only. he just does innocent stuff like hiding her shoes or eating her favourite pastry before her, but not much more.

presents: pannacotta is the one who knows katherine's tastes the most, out of all of passione's member, but he's gonna need other members' help to choose the presents for her, for fear of getting something she already has or something she'll dislike.

qualities: he fell in love with katherine because she never criticized him for his personality. she listened to fugo's story, she supported the man's effort to get better, and never ever tried to change him or rush him into eliminating anger from his life. she's respectful and he cherishes it.

reading: he's not perfect, but pannacotta can definitely tell when his better half is down or is in a bad mood. what he does is sitting next to her and and gently asking what's up. if he can help, he'll definitely not move until he manages to.

stand: oh, purple haze loves kathie, it's just a little worried about what it might do to her with its uncontrollable anger. it wouldn't be the first time that stand goes berserk when it shouldn't. pannacotta loves seeing and being with the pied piper, though...

together: fugo likes to eat together with kathie, otherwise his will to eat disappears, it's almost like children who refuse to do something unless a specific adult is with them. a day on which she wasn't there, the gang had to put a photo of her next to the table.

unexpected: he would learn to dance for katherine, since she loves so much to make people dance with her pied piper. at least he'd do it with cognition and sense, when it happens. it would be a big surprise for kathie.

vacation: being part of an organization like passione, they wouldn't have much time to think about a vacation. but for pannacotta, every day spent at home with his wife instear of being in the streets, fighting against other stand users, is a well deserved vacation from fear and from danger.

wedding: during the marriage ceremony, he'd have a huge smile on his face, which is a coping mechanism in order not to cry out of happiness. he doesn't want to breakdown in front of his new wife and in fronf of all the guests, but he'd be so thankful to kathie, it will be difficult to resist.

e(x)es: well, fugo hates every man who had to do with katherine before and would love to see them perish for how they treated the most amazing woman of his life. so yeah, he won't even have to worry about exes coming back to her. he'll kill them, in case.

year: oh, his head would go crazy thinking about what to do for an anniversary. pannacotta has so many ideas about a romantic date, that every single one of them starts looking too simple for such an amazing girl as kathie. he doesn't realize she'll be happy with anything he does.

zzz: after the first time you sleep together, he doesn't want to ever stop, he feels happier and calmer if katherine sleeps beside him, so he can easily know if she's fine and whether she's sleeping calmly, dreaming or having nightmares. nighttime matters a lot to him.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo part five #vento aureo #pannacotta fugo #fugo x oc #katherine lancaster #pr3sa

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

Text

April Contest Submission #9: Shocking Confessions

Words: ca. 5,000 Setting: Modern AU with powers Lemon: No CW: Kinda angst, hospitals, anxiety

Soft gentle hands gently tug at the fashioned twin braids of Anna’s hair, slowly turning them into a frizzy mess. For how cold her sister often was, the kiss was hot, passionate. All her deepest desires all poured into one place. For several minutes, it felt like they were both lost in the empty blackness of space, holding tight to each other so they wouldn’t drift apart again. Then something starts to build within the nerves of Anna’s being. Something searing hot that burned through her blood and brought tears to her eyes.

Her body jolts with the electric currents, waking her from this trance. Anna’s head slams into the metal machinery above her head, the only conductor this electricity needed to infect everything else. As she shouts her pain and falls back to the base of this machine, the power and lights flicker, then go out completely. Heart beating extremely fast after the dream she just had, Anna stares at the screen above her head. A dim blue light shone on it, produced from her own eyes.

“Anna?! Anna, are you alright?!” Elsa’s voice broke the silence in this small room just as her flashlight pierced the darkness. Momentary relief washes over Anna, before remembering why she was here. What would she say to them? Dreams like that were meant to stay out of this place and in her own bed only, but it wasn’t like she could control it. Continuing to lie about them would make so many dents in the progress they were trying to make. Controlling these abilities used to be so much easier…

“Y- yeah, I’m okay.” She could hear the sigh of relief from Elsa.

“Thank god. You shorted out all the power in the hospital again. At least this time they know how to get it back online quicker. You’re still going to have to crawl out from inside there.” With a dismayed sigh of her own, Anna carefully rolls herself over onto her stomach so she could try pulling herself through the small gap at the end of the cylindrical machine. Just like last time, Elsa was there to catch her arms and pull her out. This time though, the blonde holds Anna tight in a hug. She could feel the older woman’s heartbeat going very fast.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, baby…” A pale gentle hand strokes the back of Anna’s head, which normally would’ve been a soothing gesture for her had the dream not happened. Not wanting the flashbacks for fear of accidentally shocking her sister, she pushes herself away. “What is it? What made this happen again?”

“Just another nightmare.”

“Anna, you know you can’t be that vague. We need to know what’s haunting your mind. We need to know why your powers are responding to it like they are! It’s for your, and everyone else’s, safety. That’s why we’re doing this in the first place, remember?” Desperately searching on loose strings for an excuse, Anna holds her arms tight over her chest, hoping that the constriction would calm her down.

“I- I just need a moment, okay?” Her anxiety was plain as day in her voice. Elsa once again reaches towards her with her free hand, but Anna flinches away. In seeing the hurt on her sister’s face from the motion, the ginger gives a defeated sigh and moves into the careful embrace. This time, Elsa wouldn’t make any rash movements, just hold the girl.

“Fine, but you have to tell me within the hour, otherwise I know you’ll forget.” An hour was probably enough time to think of something, but Anna wanted so bad to confess. This secret had dragged her down for about a couple years, wasting too much research and money. She knew Elsa was terribly worried for her, too. It was just… a terrifying subject to bring up. There was no way to know how her sister would respond to it. “Anna?”

“Yeah, I will, I promise. Can we… go to the place?” Elsa seems a bit hesitant to reply, but does so just as the lights flicker on again.

“Yes, just as soon as we get the results.” The machine behind Anna starts to whirr back to life and Elsa quickly leans forward to turn it off. She was one of the employees here at the hospital, and the reason they were able to afford this kind of thing in the first place. It was a different kind of place than you’d normally imagine a hospital to be, but it still helped people. It just specialized in helping a certain strange kind of people. A long slip of paper buzzes out from a slot in the machine that Elsa takes and looks over while Anna continues hugging the taller woman. When the only response to her findings was a hum, the ginger curiously tries to look at the slip of paper, only for Elsa to raise it above her eye level. “Looks like you’ve started sleep talking now, too.”

“Wait what?!” Panicking over this idea, Anna reaches up to grab the slip and pull it out of Elsa’s grasp. However, all that was on it was her heart rate over the course of time she was asleep and other squiggle lines she didn’t understand the meaning of.

“Hey!” Elsa takes it back with a glare.

“Sleep talking? How could you tell? All that shows is my heart rate.”

“You think I don’t know that? There’s a microphone on the machine. There used to be a soundproof sealing on the end in case the patient would scream during testing. Of course, we would immediately shut down the test, but we couldn’t have screams echoing down the hallway.”

“Oh. How come it’s gone?” Elsa finally turns off her flashlight and clips it to her bluejeans, her gaze still looking at the piece of paper more so to likely avoid looking at Anna.

“Well, with the fear of power outages, we found it would be too easy for patients to get stuck and suffocate. For those who need the containment, they have backup generators in their rooms, but you don’t require such concealment.” Guilt crawls into Anna’s chest, ruining any appetite she had. She couldn’t keep doing this. It was harming others needlessly, not to mention costing the building far more money for the generators. Today, she had to tell her sister what was really going on, no matter the suffering she would have to endure. A lifelong friendship with her big sister ruined by a single sentence.

“I’m sorry.” Folding the paper and stuffing it into her pocket, Elsa reaches down and takes Anna’s hand.

“It isn’t your fault, Anna. We can only blame our parents for not letting you get the help you needed. Besides, the weather can be unpredictable sometimes.”

“But I was doing so well with them! Until… Until…” With her other hand, Anna wipes away the tears trying to glaze her eyes. “They didn’t want people to experiment on me.”

“No one is experimenting on you!” It sounds like it takes a lot for Elsa to say that without a growl. Anna should’ve known better than to bring up something their parents and Elsa argued about so often. “We are observing and working on finding solutions for the problem.”

“Right..” She almost apologized again, but restrained from doing so, so Elsa wouldn’t feel worse about yelling than Anna already knew she did. The blonde’s arm wraps around Anna’s shoulders as she leads her to the door and out into the bright white hallway. This place had the makings of an asylum, with the twist of actually helping people get better and letting them leave. Some patients just took a little longer than others and had no family or home to go back to, so they stayed, but Anna has Elsa.

“Hey, I have something for you.” After getting into the car, Anna curiously looks over to Elsa, who held up a KitKat bar. Instantly, a smile grew over Anna’s face, always taken by the candy bar. When Anna takes and unwraps it, she breaks off the two pieces from each other and offers the other one to her big sister, just like always. It was like a short little break they could share together despite the trials of this stressful everyday life. The break was less the candybar and more being able to take a small moment with Elsa. Without disappointment, Elsa accepts the other half and bites into it before starting the car. Somehow, the blonde never failed to have one after every stressful occasion. Even on the day of their parent’s unexpected demise, they shared the solemn binding treat. Anna knew that Elsa suspected their death was the reason Anna kept having nightmares, but that obviously couldn’t be true. However, after that day, the two had become more inseparable. When they didn’t have to be away from each other, they did everything together. So, in a way, their parent’s death was definitely a contributing factor. Because Elsa had a financially stable career and Anna had just become an adult, the ginger had moved in with her sister, with only one requirement: that Anna had to forgo observation over her abilities.

A half hour later into their drive and they had finally made it to the river trail that Anna loved so much. There was something about how the air just felt much more peaceful and crisp to her senses. Maybe it was just because she had been cramped in a tiny space and a tiny room for so long, but the freedom was amazing. Despite the warm summer weather, they found no one on the trail as they trekked through the dirt path. Not that Anna would mind. As long as she had her sister, she would always be perfectly content, even if the blonde was a little overprotective and made her at least wear a jacket against the sun’s rays. Sure, she thought about maybe getting friends outside of family, even a girlfriend to try and rid herself of the romantic lust she held for her sister, but no one was worth her time the same way. Friends after school just didn’t seem to stick to her. Besides, she wanted to believe Elsa needed her just as much as Anna felt she needed Elsa.

The river was loud as they approached, rushing against its rocky bank. A large stretch of grass separated the trees from the water, bathed in warm sunlight that looked more than welcoming to sit in. So, they did. It was a wonder why such a loud spot would be so calming, but Anna liked to listen to it like music. Just another way to drown out the nervous thoughts in her head. Elsa said she enjoyed sitting near it as well, but she always wore such a sad expression whenever they did. Today was no different. Her big sister watched the water with a glassy blue gaze, somehow still stunning when looking so depressed.

“Elsa?”

“Hm?”

“I think I’m ready to tell you.” Anna’s gut twisted with her anxiety and guilt, only getting worse when Elsa looks up at her. Now that she had the blonde’s undivided attention, her voice seemed to die in her throat.

“Take your time. Don’t forget to breathe. In three, out four.” Nodding, Anna takes a deep breath and then slowly lets it out. This wasn’t the first time she tried to tell Elsa the truth. Except, every other time, she chickened out and went with the most believable excuse she could come up with.

“It’s you,” she quickly confesses. So quickly, in fact, that Elsa doesn’t react for another few moments.

“What?”

“You.”

“Me? What about me?” Elsa seemed completely confused, which was to be expected.

“Would it make more sense to say it wasn’t actually a nightmare?”

“Oh… Oh!!” The blonde exclaims, her eyes wide with what could have been surprise, but looked more like the face of someone who found the answer to an impossible puzzle. Slowly, she reaches into her pocket to retrieve the slip of paper. “Wait…” Squinting as she stares, Elsa’s face gave away that she was trying really hard to think of something to say, probably a scientific explanation to try and resolve any awkwardness. “Well, if this is the first time it has happened, then it obviously doesn’t really mean anything, so-”

“It isn’t.” Anna cuts off, her teeth buried into her lip while she fidgets with her hands. Afraid of what she might see, her gaze avoids Elsa’s. The silence that followed was due to Anna being too ashamed to explain any further and Elsa searching for the right thing to respond with. What the hell would be the right thing to say in this scenario? Was this it? Were they going to forget about the whole thing and stop the tests? Write it off as insignificant and keep living their lives? That had to be the best case scenario. The worst would be Elsa separating herself from Anna in order to try and help her.

“Why?” Was not the answer she expected. Perhaps the one she should have though. For the first time in a really long time, Elsa’s powers finally show itself. Ice creeps along the grass from under the blonde’s hand on the ground, the other still holding the slip of paper very tightly. Worry and dismay grows in Anna’s chest, afraid this was a huge mistake. There was no taking it back now.

“I… Elsa, why would I know? Do you think I would have asked for these feelings?”

“I was asking about the dreams, but uh.. now it’s a pretty clear answer.” Face flushing in embarrassment, Anna shoots a glare at her sister, only to get a nervous kind smile in return. Elsa’s smile made it practically impossible to be mad at her, but if Anna wasn’t going to be mad, she could feel the sadness creeping into her eyes. A hopeless sensation that started happening that night when they got the call. Likely depression, but Anna refused to let her sister take her to get any real diagnosis. To her, medication wasn’t a solution, and therapy would only keep her away from Elsa longer- who she viewed to be the only form of medicine needed. She could tell Elsa carried something from that night as well. Elsa would hesitate to pick up her cellphone when it rang every time, very unlike the quick precise person she was. At work, she made no such hesitation. “So, how long have you been lying to me, Anna?” The question pulls Anna back to reality, where she was sitting here in the middle of the forest confessing to her big sister. Oh god, what had she been thinking…

“I prefer to call it ‘strategically avoiding an awkward conversation’. Lying to you sounds bad.”

“Anna, I’ve been so worried about you. I thought things were haunting you.”

“Things are haunting me! Sort of. Just… not monstrous things. More like illegal things, like tax evasion.” Elsa had the audacity to laugh.

“Incestuous feelings, you mean.” When Anna refuses to look at Elsa again, she brings herself closer to the ginger and wraps an arm around her. Anna groans and drops her head in her hands, leaving Elsa to semi-awkwardly rub her back with a hand. “Just out of curiosity, when did these… uhm.. When did this start?”

“Mhh hard to say,” she lies, her face feeling very hot from embarrassment. “Maybe 2 years ago.”

“2 years ago?! Anna, what the fuck?!”

“I thought it would go away! You know, like a normal crush!” It was unlike Elsa to swear, but maybe this situation could warrant nothing other than profanities. “Does it even matter? Like- truly? I’m practically over it anyways, which is why I decided to tell you now.”

“Oh really? Does someone who’s over said crush have such…” Elsa seems to wrestle with the words for a moment before choking them out, “intense dreams that end up wiping out all power in that large ass facility? You must have been feeling something! If it wasn’t fear then it had to have been…” she trails off, suddenly feeling too embarrassed herself now to say it.

“Would you believe me if I said yes?”

“No!”

“Oh, so just cause you’re a scientist, you suddenly know everything about emotions?” Anna watches Elsa now, whose face was a mix of panic and something else.

“Well, I don’t know everything, but I have a decent idea about the chemicals and reasons for certain reactions.” Rolling her eyes, Anna scoffs at her sister’s claim. Of course, always with the logic with her. Unfortunately for the scientist, Anna wasn’t willing to reason with her logic, or the chemicals she claimed.

“If that’s true, why don’t you explain this then?”

“Explain what, specifically?”

“How on earth I’m attracted to you!”

“I would sound like a narcissist if I did…”

“Do it for your precious science.” Her glare found Elsa’s uncertain gaze, where they shared a moment of silence. Well, as much silence as you could get while near the river.

“Fine. In theory, romantic feelings could be aroused by looks or certain personality quirks. Or, all of that could go out the window when it comes to a stranger, or even someone you care about, touching you in a different way.” It seemed to make Elsa incredibly nervous to talk about this, stumbling a bit on the words and going back on them to reiterate. Anna didn’t even know why she wanted her to explain it. Maybe because her older sister seemed so confident with her reasoning and staying calm rather than actually feeling things herself, and acting rather than thinking for once. Yeah, that was probably it.

“Touching in what way?” Struggling not to smirk as she asks it, Elsa finally returns the glare.

“Not the kind you’re thinking about.”

“How do you know, smarty-pants?” Suddenly, Anna found Elsa’s hand at her waist. It stayed for merely a moment before disappearing and reappearing on Anna’s thigh instead.

“Touches like that. Certain nerves that are for the ‘lover’s interest’.” Then her hand falls back into her lap and Anna could finally let out the breath she held. However, it didn’t escape her how Elsa could have simply said these things instead of demonstrating. The ginger’s eyes now try to maintain eye contact with Elsa’s, but the blonde unfortunately seems far more interested in keeping them on the grass. “However, it’s completely determined on the relationship you share with that person or whether your brain already finds them attractive visually. As sisters, we are extremely close with each other, and neither of us go out to see many other people unless it’s at work.”

“Yeah, but you’re my sister, so this logic is complete bullshit.” Anna says, matter-of-factly.

“M-most sisters probably aren’t as close on a daily basis as we are. Among already living together, dining out together, and not already seeing other people, my coworkers have already asked if you were my girlfriend. I think not sleeping in the same bedroom and making out with each other are the only things that divide the line between us being sisters or a couple.”

“Why are you defending my feelings for you?” Suddenly taken aback by her sister’s surprisingly quickly executed rebuttal, Anna stares at Elsa with wide eyes. This was not at all what she expected this confession to be like. Though, it may still end very horribly… Knowing Elsa and how little she judged a person, she must be very conflicted. “Excuse me for a moment.” Needing a break from this conversation, Anna gets to her feet and quickly walks back towards the trees. Within the forestry, the ginger stops herself at a place she was sure she could find her way back to where she had left Elsa. The sound of the river was still very close, but muffled enough that she could think and try to calm herself down.

When hugging her arms over her chest and leaning back into a tree, Anna could feel something in her left boob pocket. It crinkled and pressed awkwardly against her chest. Slowly unwrapping her arms, she curiously reaches into the pocket to retrieve that familiar red wrapper in its technically trapezoid shape because of the candy within. Despite it basically being her comfort food, Anna never bought it for herself. The candy was just something Elsa liked to get her once being able to pay for things on her own. If she were being honest, she didn’t even like them much at first, but anything from her sister was everything to her, even at 8 years old. How had the years quickly escaped them both?

Anna easily tears the wrapper, leaving the double chocolate bars in the palm of her hand, so she could tuck the wrapper back into her denim pocket. Then, being careful not to drop either piece, she snaps the two from each other. Sure, at the moment, there was no Elsa to share it with, and the thought of enjoying both bars sounded sad, but this had clearly been put in her pocket deliberately. Elsa probably wanted Anna to eat it when she needed to think of sweet wonderful times with her big sister. Though, after confessing her romantic love for Elsa, that thought made her feel kind of ill. Regardless, she had already removed the wrapper and wasn’t about to let the candy go to waste.

“Wow. Already breaking off your KitKats without me now? Might as well make it official and move out.” At the sudden sound of Elsa’s voice, Anna jumps in surprise, almost dropping the chocolate. The older woman had apparently been summoned by the snapping of a KitKat..

“Jeez Elsa, you scared me!” Out of habit, she offers the other bar to Elsa while biting into her own. The blonde doesn’t hesitate to take it and join her sister leaning against the tree. Anna knew Elsa was just kidding about the moving out thing, but she started considering it. Not living in the same house as her sister would make her feelings easier to abolish, wouldn’t it? “Yknow, maybe I should.”

“What? Anna, I was joking.”

“I know, but I’m not.” There was a new tense kind of silence, like Elsa was holding back from saying something.

“That’s ridiculous! There’s no reason to. No, you don’t need to move out. It would just complicate everything. Unnecessary. Besides, with your financial stability right now, and the way your ability is acting up, it’s just… well, a wildly horrible decision. As your big sister, I really suggest you stop thinking about the idea altogether, e- even after you get that… financial stability.” Ah, there it was. Highly suspicious that Elsa wanted to keep her so close. Or was it? Damn, it’s so hard to know when trying to read her sister. Sometimes it was like Elsa felt the same, and other times it was like she was reading all the signals completely wrong. Such a frustrating way to live.

“No reason to? Elsa, I-”

“I know, but that doesn’t matter! I don’t want to lose you!”

“Then why did you hesitate to decide that?”

“Anna!” With an exasperated groan, Elsa pushes herself off the tree to face Anna with a furious expression. “Why are you making this so difficult for us both?”

“Because I’m afraid to admit that you’re right! Right about everything! Because this is wrong! Everything about it is wrong! I shouldn’t feel this way, but I know exactly why I do. You care about me like no one else does. You hold me like I’m the last person you ever want to let go. You know everything about me! I don’t go out to make friends, because you’re the only person I ever want to be around. You’re everything to me!” Her walls were breaking, falling apart like a KitKat bar that you’d left in your pocket for too long, thankfully unlike the one she had discovered. Before she even knew she was crying, cold fingers were gently wiping away her tears. “And here you are, keeping me close to you when I just want to make this better for you for once!” Once again, the silence carries on for several moments too long. Part of Anna wanted Elsa to finally be disgusted and tell her to be better, to get rid of these foolish feelings so she might actually be able to, but that’s not what happened. Instead, Elsa’s response was to press a very soft kiss to Anna’s forehead, and then her tear stained cheek, and finally… her quivering lips. Elsa’s hand cradles Anna’s face, her other hand resting over the one Anna had against the tree. This moment must’ve lasted for several seconds, but to Anna, it only existed for the fragment of a second. Far too short to register what was going on.

When it was over, it was almost like nothing had happened. No loud explosions or confetti. Only the loud noise of water hitting rock over and over again. Anna dazedly stares at her sister, absolutely shocked by this turn of events, despite her earlier suspicions. Elsa seemed not to know what to say either, likely worried she had made a horrible decision by the look on her face. Finally, the ginger let out her breath, a rather familiar sensation roaming her body. Was this another dream? Eager not to lose this chance, she leans towards Elsa, only for the blonde to fall away with a gasp.

“Ow!!!” Elsa stares at her hand, a burn spot on the back with light grey smoke drifting from it. Quickly, the older woman sprints back to the river, where she could submerge her burned hand under the freezing surface. Anna chases after her in a panic.

“Elsa! Oh god, I’m so sorry!” Definitely not a dream. Watching Elsa take one deep breath after the other, it was evident by the frustration on her face how badly she was trying to stop herself from cussing.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Elsa hisses out. “At least now we have actual answers that we can start working with. Damn it, Anna. 2 years…” Worried about her sister, but afraid to get too close to her again, Anna crouches down a foot or so away.

“I know, I know, I- Wait, are we just not going to talk about you kissing me?”

“Why would we? Didn’t seem like you minded all that much. Unless that’s the reason you zapped my hand.”

“No! No, I didn’t mean to. Why would we-?! We would talk about it, because it was absurd and illegal and amazing and… and..!” Thinking about it brought a wave of mixed feelings upon Anna, mainly of astounded confusion. Though all it brought to Elsa was another smile to watch the blush on Anna’s face grow. “Don’t laugh, this is serious!”

“I’m not laughing. I just love watching you slowly register things. Like when it took you 2 years to realize I love you, too.”

“Y- you what? I mean, of course you do. We’re sisters, of course you love me. Th- this is different.”

“Alright, I take it back. 2 years and… I’ll give this a week, because I’m generous.” Offended, Anna didn’t think twice before pushing Elsa. Of course, the blonde just had to lose her balance and fall forward into the river. The current swept her away before she could bob to the surface, but luckily, a couple of rocks stopped her from getting too far downstream.

“Elsa!!!” Anna’s spontaneous nature told her to jump in after her sister, but with how unpredictable her powers were becoming, she might as well just be a damn toaster. So, instead, she stood at the edge panicking.

“I’m fine! Just stay there!” Elsa shouts over the water. Using her own ability, she creates a solid wall of ice against the water. The object had enough force to throw the water back onto itself and start to rise up the river edges very quickly, but it also gave Elsa a short amount of time to battle against no current and to get back to the edge. Instantly, Anna crouches down and extends her hand out to her sister, who just barely manages to take it before letting the wall fall. Water crashes over them both in a powerful cascade, Anna holding tight to Elsa’s arm with both hands while trying to pull her up onto the grass. Only when Elsa gets her other hand up to solid ground was she able to pull herself over, Anna then dragging her away from the water.

“Elsa, I’m so sorry. I’m such a disaster. Please, I’ll find a way to make today up to you.” Elsa just gives a small groan, her eyes slipping closed for a moment. Anna feared the worst despite knowing her sister better than that.

“There’s only one way I’ll let you make this up to me.” Elsa’s voice was almost too quiet to hear, clearly exhausted.

“Anything!”

“Continue breaking your KitKats with me and… don’t ever stop loving me the way you do.” Hesitating, Anna stares down at Elsa’s tired face until she finally opens her gorgeous blue eyes again.

“Elsa, are you sure?” Her sister gives a tired nod. “Okay.” While still being very confused by this turn of events, she would still do anything for Elsa.

“Say it.. Out loud.” Elsa specifies, her eyes staring deep into Anna’s. It made the ginger’s heart beat hard against her chest, like Elsa was asking her to recite an oath instead of a simple request. So full of emotion and desperation…

“Elsa…”

“Please. You’re my everything, too, Anna.” Elsa’s voice suddenly sounded very broken and weak, like she was about to start crying. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.” A small smile teases the edges of Anna’s lips. Of anything to come from confessing, relief was not something she expected. Her hand gently pushes back wet strands of platinum hair from Elsa’s face before softly caressing her sister’s cheek.

“I promise to always share my KitKats with you, and I promise to never stop loving you the way I do right now. Unconditionally and completely.” Elsa’s mouth grew into a relieved smile, her eyes slipping closed again as Anna took this opportunity to finally get the embrace she dreamed so often about.

#elsanna #submission #April 2021 contest #prompt: break

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Ninety

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

May 26th, 2001

Emile watched as Remy practically crumpled into the backseat of the car. Emile risked sitting down next to him, eyeing the parking lot uncertainly. Remy’s mother had seemed to be successfully scared off by Emile’s dad threatening to fight against her over Remy. But Emile didn’t know how long that fear might stay before she’d change her mind and go back to stalking Remy.

Hesitantly, Emile grabbed Remy’s hand. Remy held it back in a death grip, eyes not seeing anything. Emile’s mother leaned into the car and said, “Your father and I can drive the cars back, honey, you just make sure Remy is all right.”

Emile nodded, eyes going back to Remy worriedly. His eyes had closed and his chest was rising and falling in a steady rhythm, so hopefully he could sleep the shock off. He had no doubt their next conversation would be long and somewhat painful, but right now, he just needed Remy to be okay.

August 30th, 2003

Emile walked into their house only to hear sniffling coming from the kitchen, and he was immediately on alert. “Rem?” he called out, rushing to the kitchen.

“Oh, hey, Emile,” Remy said, dabbing at his eyes with a tissue before sniffling again. “How was work?”

“Are you okay?!” Emile asked, looking Remy over and finding no physical injuries. If Remy’s mother had somehow found them...

“I’m fine, Emile. Just got off a call with your parents,” Remy said.

“My parents?” Emile asked. His mind was racing. How soon he could interrogate them, establish boundaries, whether or not he needed to reevaluate their relationship, and how close they were...

“Yeah. They said they were proud of me,” Remy said with a watery laugh. “I just...started crying uncontrollably. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Emile’s heart slowed in it’s hammering, but his mind was still working at what felt like a million miles an hour. “You promise that’s all it is?” Emile asked. “Just happy tears?”

“Just happy tears,” Remy reassured Emile with a smile. “I feel a million times better than I did this morning, and I didn’t even need cheering up.”

“Well, that’s good,” Emile said, sagging a little in relief. “I was really worried. I know you’ve been having nightmares.”

Remy blew out a breath. “Yeah,” he said, glancing away from Emile. “Still sorry about waking you up so often.”

“Rem, if you’re in trouble, I’d rather know than be left oblivious,” Emile said, placing his hand over one of Remy’s.

Remy mumbled something unintelligible and Emile frowned. “What was that?”

“I was just wondering if...” Remy trailed off. “You know what? I know the answer to that already, and I don’t want to hear it coming from your mouth.”

“Oh, then it has something to do with therapy,” Emile laughed. When Remy didn’t, Emile paused. “Have you been having more nightmares than you’ve been letting on?”

Remy sighed. “You’re too good at shrinking my head, mio amore, you really need to learn how not to do that.”

“I don’t think it’s shrinking your head, I think it’s just knowing you for a long time,” Emile said with a half-hearted shrug. “But Rem...”

“No.”

“I just think—”

“—No.”

“If you’re having nightmares more often than I’m waking up, you really should talk to a th—”

“I’m not talking to a therapist, Emile!” Remy exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’m perfectly healthy on my own! Do I always do everything right? No! Do I still have issues about where I came from? Sure! But that doesn’t mean I need therapy!”

“If you’re having nightmares to the point of consistent loss of sleep, I would argue otherwise,” Emile said simply.

Remy growled and grumbled into the counter. “Why is it the day that I decide to test out not going to the shop and leaving August in charge that you do this?”

“Because today’s the day I realize that you’ve been holding back on me about your mental health,” Emile said, crossing his arms. “I would argue this with you regardless of what day it was, had I known this was what was happening.”

“Which is why I didn’t tell you,” Remy said, looking up at Emile.

Emile worked at keeping his anger in check. Remy didn’t do well with anger. He knew this. He needed to go with the gentle approach. “Remy. Do you see me recommending you go to a therapist as a breach of trust? Be honest.”

Remy looked away from Emile. Paced the length of the kitchen twice. Turned and looked back at Emile, with a recognizable fire in his eyes that Emile hadn’t seen before. Remy’s gaze bore a striking resemblance to his mother’s in that instance. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because while therapy is just for help working through whatever problems someone might have, the fact remains that if they’re asking for help, they’re not strong enough to handle that problem on their own. And I can handle my parents on my own just fine. Sure, I sometimes have nightmares. And yes, that’s a little more often than I told you. But it’s nothing that I can’t handle, that I can’t get through on my own. I can function with it. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Rem, ‘fine’ would be having an occasional nightmare, but being able to go back to sleep afterward, because it was just a dream. ‘Fine’ would be getting triggered but being able to work through the trauma and avoiding a flashback, however narrowly. ‘Fine’ would be acknowledging your parents hurt you, but not being afraid that they could hurt you anymore. And you do none of those things. You stay up for hours on end after waking up from nightmares, you get stuck in flashbacks for hours or even days, and you exhibit such strong hypervigilance it’s a wonder you sleep at all at night. You are not ‘fine.’” Emile shook his head. “I understand it’s important for you to be self-sufficient, but wouldn’t you be more self-sufficient if you could handle your trauma symptoms?”

“It’s not that bad, Emile! You’re exaggerating things!” Remy exclaimed, crossing his arms with fingers digging into flesh.

Emile took a breath and said, “Are you saying that because you believe it, or are you saying it because that’s what your parents told you?”

Remy looked at him with such betrayal in his eyes, that Emile wished he could take the question back. But he knew it needed to be said. It needed to be answered. Remy needed to acknowledge where this was stemming from, and Emile needed to know whether or not he needed to press further.

“I’m saying it because it’s true,” Remy said in a soft, fragile voice, and Emile instantly understood one wrong step and Remy would lash out violently. “It wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be. I wasn’t exaggerating, but I never brought up the good sides of the relationship, as well. You only ever saw the ugly parts.”

“But the good parts don’t negate the ugly parts, Rem. If they hurt you, whether or not you can handle that on your own, whether or not they were also kind, you need to understand that they hurt you. There’s not some secret law where you have to have this amount of trauma and be short this amount of love to consider yourself abused, or traumatized, or whatever you want to call yourself,” Emile pointed out.

“I don’t need therapy, Emile!” Remy snapped and Emile held his hands up in surrender. “I don’t need it! I don’t need it!”

“I’m not saying you need it, I’m saying you could benefit from it. There’s a difference. You’re not going to die if you don’t get therapy. So you don’t necessarily need it. But it would definitely make your load a lot lighter, and while I won’t leave you if you don’t go to therapy, if this persists I’d recommend you get a second opinion, like from Toby. Because I worry about you, Rem. A lot.” Remy was seething, and Emile took a breath. “Now I don’t want a fight on this, so I’m going to be stepping away.”

“No!” Remy barked. “No, we need to talk about this!”

“Maybe so,” Emile allowed. “But you’re very worked up right now, and I don’t want us to devolve into shouting.”

“I’m ‘worked up’?! I’m ‘worked up’?! You have a funny way of saying fucking furious!” Remy exclaimed. Emile jumped and Remy froze, the flush in his face draining away as his eyes widened. “Oh, God. I’m becoming my mother.”

“Hence why I recommend therapy,” Emile weakly joked.

Remy didn’t seem to hear Emile. He was muttering to himself, unintelligible words before he dashed past Emile, grabbed his coat, and ran out the front door. Emile’s blood ran cold. “Rem?” he asked, rushing after Remy. “Rem, hold up!”

But Emile calling out to Remy only seemed to make Remy run faster. Emile slowed, quickly running out of breath but following behind Remy at a slower pace. He could wait out Remy’s running and catch up to him when Remy grew winded, or else he could call Bernie and ask him to keep an eye out for any panicked blonds muttering senselessly in the street.

Emile got all the way to the heart of the city before he lost sight of Remy. He looked around, trying to figure out which way Remy would have gone. Not Sleep Easy, they both knew Emile would check there first. Not the homeless shelter, because Remy didn’t go there this worked up. Emile ran a hand through his hair. He needed to know Remy wasn’t going to do anything drastic, but he needed to know where Remy was in order to make sure of that.

Quickly, Emile snatched his cell phone out of his pocket, dialling Remy’s number. It rang out. Emile swore and dialled again. This time he was sent to voicemail after one ring. “Rem...please. Talk to me,” Emile begged into the phone. “I’m not mad, I promise. I’m worried.”

Emile swallowed. He went to the park, knowing Remy sometimes found solitude there. He looked around in a frenzy, but couldn’t see Remy. He walked further in, heading to the bridge over the small creek. Remy was sitting on the handrail on the bridge, staring at the water. “Rem?” Emile asked, walking up to Remy.

“It should be deeper,” Remy said. “I wish it were deeper.”

Emile’s heart crawled its way into his throat. “Why?”

Remy choked on a sob, biting his knuckle. “Because then I could be swept away and never risk hurting you again.”

“Is this in a, ‘I want to die’ way or in a ‘I need to do damage control’ way?” Emile asked.

“I don’t know,” Remy said. He stared at the ring on his finger, and started twisting it off. “I don’t deserve—”

Emile’s hands darted out, and he held Remy still. “No. Rem, don’t you dare,” he hissed, a renewed anger flaring up. At who, he wasn’t entirely sure. “You don’t get to do that in the heat of the moment. If you calm down and you still want to call off the engagement, well. We’ll talk about it. But this? Is unacceptable.”

Remy shook, but when Emile let Remy go he replaced the ring. “I don’t want to hurt you, Emile,” he whispered.

“You didn’t. You startled me a little, but you didn’t hurt me,” Emile said softly.

“I don’t want to be my mother,” Remy continued. “I don’t.”

“The fact that you’re recognizing those patterns and trying to fix it, albeit in the wrong way, shows me that, Rem,” Emile said. “You’re not your mother.”

“I’m not seeing a therapist,” Remy muttered. “I can’t see a therapist.”

“Okay, that’s okay,” Emile placated. “I’m not requiring you to see one. I’ll even stop recommending it for a while if that helps.”

Remy still couldn’t meet Emile in the eyes. “Sorry. I won’t remember this tomorrow,” he said. “I can already tell.”

“That’s fine,” Emile said. “Will you get down now?”

Remy nodded, doing an about-face and sliding off the bridge’s handrail. Emile wrapped Remy in a gentle but firm hug. “Don’t scare me like that again, please,” he murmured.

Again, Remy nodded. Robotic, but real enough that Emile couldn’t have known Remy wasn’t actually agreeing had they just met. Remy was completely dissociated. “Come on, honey. Let’s go home,” Emile recommended.

Remy let Emile exit the hug and wrap an arm around his shoulders. Emile led Remy on the walk home, during which Remy just stared at the roads in front of them. Emile’s heart was hammering. He needed to talk to Remy about what he had done today. The yelling, the stubbornness, the attempt to get their engagement called off. But he knew that had to wait. Remy wasn’t in a state to talk about anything for at least an hour. Emile just hoped that he would know how to bring it up sometime soon.

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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writingsfromstarfleet · 4 years

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A Problem Shared - Julian Bashir X Reader

A/N: To the lovely Anon who asked for this, I thank you, I adore writing for this lil doctor, he’s definitely one of my favourites, it’s any excuse at this point, haha! I sincerely hope you, and everyone else, enjoys! :)x

TW: Mentions of bad mental health, if this makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip this one!

Travelling space, seeing the stars, discovering new worlds. All of this to anyone would seem like a dream. And it was, it truly was. Never had you felt more grateful to have the opportunity to study and work in space. Seeking out new planets, carrying out new experiments; it was all in a days work for you, and you couldn't be happier.

Though, while it was truly a blessing to say that this was your job, there were days and weeks where the whole galaxy seemed like it was falling apart.

For years, you had struggled with some issues pertaining to mental health, and it took its toll on you more often than not. Before you enrolled in Starfleet, you had gone through many rough patches, and many unpleasant experiences. The results were lasting, and the damage never seemed to cease. You joined Starfleet, an attempt originally at distracting yourself from your problems, and fell in love with it. After being assigned to Deep Space Nine, you vowed that you would no longer let your internal issues affect you in ways that meant you couldn't do your job.

You'd been on the station for just under a year, and had met and worked with the best set of people this side of the universe. Every single one of them were friends to you, genuine and true friends. Some you were closer to than others, but every one of them meant the world to you. The doctor, Julian Bashir, was one such person who you connected with.

Originally, you found him to be very full on, very facetious. Alas, you realised quickly that you were more or less one in the same. You shared the same interests, had the same sense of humour, and the same palette when it came to food. Slowly but surely, the bond strengthened and before you knew it, you were walking round calling Julian your boyfriend.

That made your situation all the more awkward, and you felt guilty. In the recent days, you hadn't been feeling yourself, and you knew that it was another bad phase that was oncoming, one you had promised yourself you would let in no more. Still, it came. You became quiet, almost avoidant of your peers, which caused them to grow concerned. Not only that, you pushed Julian away, too, spending less time than normal with him. Your friends turned to the good doctor for answers, and were just as shocked to find he had none as he was that you had been avoiding everyone.

Julian didn't understand; you had always been such a happy and free spirit. It was very rare he would ever see you sad, though when he did it was usually a nightmare, or a past memory, or even a bad away mission. All things he helped fix with a good cuddle and words of reassurance. Though, this time, he felt there was something more underneath, he didn't need to be a doctor to see it. This wasn't an ordinary sad spell, and you'd be a fool to try and hide it from him.

All day you sat in your quarters, tears rolling free and fast. You were exhausted, however you weren't sure if it was from the lack of sleep, food, or the amount of crying you had done. Dragging yourself up, you traipsed over to the replicator and grabbed a glass of water and a bagel. Unable to force yourself to eat, you instead sipped on the water, standing against the wall and staring into space, as it were.

The ringing of your door took you out of the trance you were in, and you just stared at it. You couldn't say you were certain who it was, but you had a feeling it was Julian. And if you were honest with yourself, the last thing you needed was a lecture. Feeling bad for even keeping your issues from him, though, your heart decided it was probably best to open the door. Your brain said otherwise, and kept you stood on the spot instead.

"Please, Y/N, don't make me use the override." Hearing his voice sent a rush of calm through you, even in your drained state, and you picked up on the exasperation of his tone. He was stressed. You remembered when he had told you that he wouldn't ever use the override code on your door unless it was absolutely necessary; he saw it as invasion of your privacy. But, even if he did, you couldn't blame him, knowing he must be worried sick.

Silence fell again and the door still hadn't opened. Figuring he had left, you took yourself to your be and wrapped yourself entirely in your blankets, feeling the warmth as somewhat of a comfort. You were between sleep and consciousness, and the sound of the door opening this time caught your attention. You laid still.

"Y/N..." the familiar voice spoke in almost a whisper, and you were met with Julian's concerned face as he knelt before you. You stayed lay down, cocooned within your blanket, and he reached out to run a hand through your hair, concern lacing his face. "What's wrong?"

You sniffed, having no answer. You truly didn't know, you had nothing to say. Your thoughts ran away with themselves, and you felt like you were slipping into past mindsets, something that scared you.

Julian looked down, almost as though he was going to cry himself, and even in your current state, it broke your heart to see. He cared so much, and you still hadn't told him anything.

"Julian," you began, reaching a hand out of the blanket to cup his face. "Come here." It wasn't so much of a statement as a question, your voice hesitant and low. He looked at you with shimmering eyes, and you lifted the blanket up. Julian realised, and climbed in beside you, immediately encasing you in his arms. You buried your head into his chest, arms resting around his middle, and cried. You cried out everything you had left, every single thought and feeling you had running round, and he let you.

Julian knew you needed this, and he lay with you without question. Feeling your crying had ceased, he spoke ever so gently so as not to startle you.

"Y/N-" he began, but you looked up at him and cut him off, not impolitely.

"I should have told you a long time ago," you started, shifting so that Julian could hear your words. "I've struggled with mental health issues for almost ten years now, and I've had a troubled past. Every now and then, it get's bad, really bad. Some days, I can't even leave my bed, some days I can. It hasn't been this bad in over three years, and I got scared, which is why I shut myself off from everyone. I- I panicked, Juli, I didn't know what to do, I-"

You stopped as you felt your head twang in pain and you choked up. Having no tears left to cry, you laid your forehead on his chest again. He stroked the back of your head, running his hand through your hair once more.

"Y/N, listen to me. This, isn't an issue. This isn't something you ever have to deal with alone, it's not a nice experience. You have a great support unit around you, everyone was asking about you and if you were well, you know? They all care. And so do I, as well you know. This breaks my heart to see, the fact that you thought you had to go through this alone. You aren't ever alone."

"I know, but I just didn't want to push my issues on anyone else. I vowed to myself that when I finished at the academy, I wouldn't ever allow these kinds of mindsets to ruin my work ethic, and I guess that didn't work out well, did it?"

Your dry humour made him chuckle; he marvelled at how you handled situations with humour, even when the circumstances were dire.

"You are far too proud, Y/N, you astound me," he chuckled slightly, before returning to his previous seriousness. "In all honesty, you needn't ever have to worry about talking to me with things like this. Not only am I a doctor who's trained to deal with this, I'm your boyfriend, and I love you far too much to let you just suffer. Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you com to me? I could have given you a prescription.."

"I- really, I don't know. I just panicked, I never wanted these feelings, these thoughts, to ever come back, and when they did, I didn't know how to react, I'm sorry, Julian."

He wrapped his arms around you again, burying his head into your hair. Kissing the top of your head, he spoke once more, the same softness his voice always carried with you.

"Never apologise, I understand. We are going to work through it, and we are going to be alright. I'll prescribe you something to help in the morning, alright? You have to promise me that this is the last time you struggle alone. Don't hesitate to call on me if you need me, it's why I'm here. I can't stand the thought of you keeping this battle to yourself. We'll win together, we'll get through it. Promise me?"

You managed a smile up at him, your mood already somewhat lifted.

"I promise, thank you, Julian. Somehow, you've always got the right thing to say."

"Anything for the person I love the most. You are never a burden, remember that. A problem shared is a problem halved."

You stayed like that for the night, cuddled into Julian's side as he told you stories of his past ventures to take your mind off things. It worked, and you couldn't have been more thankful. You promised yourself things once again, but this time, you had told yourself you weren't ever going to keep things from Julian. You couldn't break his heart like that.

"I love you, Julian." Your voice was heavy with tiredness, and you felt him smile into your hair.

"And I you, Y/N. I always have, and always will."

You slept that night in content, knowing that any battle you faced was won with Julian by your side. He was your rock, and with him, you were safe.

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