#So what we know of his injuries now: messed up legs. Messed up guts. Messed up chest. Is there more...? Who can say. 👀

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XIX)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWO is here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here PART THIRTEEN is here PART FOURTEEN is here PART FIFTEEN is here PART SIXTEEN is here PART SEVENTEEN is here PART EIGHTEEN is here...nineteen...oy vey.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... THE BART RETURNS! The earth rejoices! 🥳🎉 Physical therapy can be fun, even if it usually isn't!

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Danny learns a few more words with practice.

Foda is simple. If Danny is hungry, he can ask for foda. It sounds exactly like food, and when he asks, they feed him.

…Or they up his IV. Which. Danny’s tongue might still feel sore and nasty, but the doctors and nurses and millions of minders don’t seem that mad when he sticks his tongue out at them. Sometimes they even laugh.

They don’t even sound all that mean.

It takes Danny a good chunk of waking time for him to realize that he…probably is hooked up to something he doesn’t want to think about, since all the efforts of lifting and moving him haven’t resulted in a single bathroom trip since he woke up here.

Firstly: horrible.

Secondly: his legs are super, absolutely, positively immobilized, and if someone doesn’t give him enough medication quickly enough after it wears off, Danny is very aware that something is deeply wrong with them.

So. Uh. That’s…gross.

He learns bealo just as quickly. He isn’t sure what bealo means, per se, but when he says it, they up his medication until Danny can pretend he doesn’t have any legs again.

God niht is goodnight, unless Danny is feeling snippy, and then it’s just niht.

…The one lady who minds him always says the whole thing, though. Even when Danny’s mean. Like the one time he threw his rocket at someone.

Or the time he started ignoring everyone when they tried to touch him.

…Or the one time he tried to freeze his IV bag, and put everyone on alert because if he’d been human, that would have seriously hurt him.

“Sorry,” Danny’d whispered, even if it wouldn’t mean anything to her.

She’d patted his hand and meant it. Danny’d had to dry his eyes with his wrist. “Eall es wel.”

Anyway.

Danny hates being in the freaking bed every hour of every day. So when his “sitting up” exercises turn into “hey, let’s try the wheelchair” practice, Danny gets so excited-slash-nervous that he kind of feels like he’s going to throw up all the liquids he’s been injected with.

None of the regular people try to lift him. Instead the lady does it herself, scooping Danny up in very strong arms, the golden cuffs on her wrists weirdly warm on Danny’s skin. When Danny’s settled, his legs sticking out real weird and his back kind of sore, he’s…out of bed.

He’s. He’s not in bed anymore.

And. Sure. It’s temporary, but it’s not the bed. Danny can wriggle, and he can sort of palm the wheels underneath him with the heels of his shaky hands, and he can see so much more of himself than he has in ages and ages.

For one. Both of his legs are in casts. That’s. Not good. He can’t feel it right now, but the sight of fully encased legs…

Well. If he can transform that won’t be a problem. If. If he has to escape. But it is…it’s super scary. He mostly remembers being captured, but the…the other people had been focusing more on his thoracic cavity and his face and head.

…So why are his legs so bad? Did something else happen?

(It did, didn’t it?)

(…Didn’t it??)

His hands shake, but there’s something to all that grip training, or else Danny wouldn’t be able to paw at his neckline to look down his own shirt. Or, well, his cloth nightie, anyway.

It’s good that he looks, since, well…his chest is glowing a solid green.

Whatever should probably be scar tissue. Uh. It…isn’t. There’re gouges down his chest and a crater where his heart should be that probably should be healing over, considering, you know, he’s not freaking dead at this exact second (mostly??), but. Instead of, like, healed flesh, or, say, his insides, there’s a transparent green…jelly… holding him together.

He can see how the green bounces with his heart beat.

...Danny drops the neckline of his gown. His breath comes in choking bursts, eyes pressed into his eye sockets—he feels sick.

He is sick. He has been sick.

The humans are keeping him here because he’s a freak of nature and he’s broken from head to toe and the Guys in White carved his flesh out of his body and opened him up like a can of cranberry sauce.

He presses his hands to his chest, to his stomach, just trying to breathe for long enough that he doesn’t throw up his oatmeal and occasional juice and IV nutrition onto the pristine floor of his sickroom. The people around him all make sympathetic noises that don’t help because he doesn’t know what they mean.

And then he feels something weird.

Not all the sensation in his fingers are back. It’s easier for him to feel impediments than it is to feel textures—something that blocks him from moving, rather than anything sensory-specific. He can usually tell when he touches fabric, because when he moves too far, it pulls tight around his hand. He can tell when he’s on something solid when his hand fails to go through it.

There is something solid sticking out of him.

Danny’s heartbeat quickens. It’s not. It’s. There’s something in him.

And it’s not—it’s so solid. When Danny brushes his hands against it, he can feel his skin and his flesh move with it, trying not to dislodge the thing embedded in him. It pulls at his skin. He doesn’t know what it is.

His fingers tremble as he tries to brush over the object through his gown, trying to figure out its shape from faulty touch alone. It’s like waking up to find himself jammed with needles all over again.

People are talking around them. Danny doesn’t try to listen in. He’s scared. He’s so scared. Something’s happened to him, and he didn’t even notice.

Some of it is—hard. There’s a crinkling sound when he moves. Danny manages to pull his gown neckline back again to catch something of a glimpse, and all he sees is plastic.

He doesn’t know what it is.

He doesn’t know who to ask. He can’t understand anyone and he doesn’t know if he trusts them.

They put something in him. There’s something embedded in him.

He thinks he’s going to cry.

Something touches his arm—Danny flinches. His core tightens with stress as he puts a metaphorical hand on the button, ready to run and hide at any notice.

It’s the lady. He knows her.

No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know her at all. He can’t talk to her in any way that matters. She’s not a doctor. He doesn’t know why she’s here, or why she’s keeping him here.

She’s nice. She fed him. But is that all it takes to trick him? To make him compliant? Pliable?

She stops touching him when he gets scared, her eyes worried. She kneels—closer than Danny would like, probably, but she keeps her hands to herself. Danny’s heart races faster, out of order, starting and stopping and starting again like a bad engine.

“Eow eart wel?” she asks from his left arm rest, a common question, so softly. Danny doesn’t know what it means. “Eall es wel. Ænlic eow, ænlic me. Bruce bræð wið me?”

She takes a big, deep, breath. Her hand rises slightly over her chest, following an exaggerated movement. Don’t panic. Breathe. Breathe like me. One, two, three.

Danny’s breaths are more choked. More panicked.

But when she breathes, he breathes with her—even with every stutter in between.

“Hwæt es woh[O3] ?” the lady asks, so gently it’s almost a whisper. Her pointer finger hovers over his body, but doesn’t touch—and eventually, Danny figures out she probably wants to know where he’s hurting.

But he’s not hurting. He’s scared. There’s something inside him, and he isn’t sure what it is. He presses the heel of his hand to the object. He feels something rigid refuse to bend inside his flesh.

There’s something of recognition in the woman’s face. “Inne cwic tima,” she says, more certain of answers outside the room, and darts away,

Danny wants to bounce his bound leg. He feels awful when anyone is in the room with him, considering how little of them he knows, but, somehow, it’s so much worse when he’s actually alone.

When she comes back, there’s a second person who walks through the double doors with her, in blue scrubs with ducks on them. They wave to Danny.

Danny…blinks. He feels numb. It’s kind of a problem.

They take it in stride, though; in their hands is a blank board and a chunky marker. The cap comes off, the new person scribbles for a minute or so, and then turns the board around so that Danny can see.

It’s a…person. A rudimentary outline person, sure, with some visible bones and organs to fill in the person-shaped outline. Danny can recognize most of them from anatomy class, although those memories are more…personal, now. A little more painful.

The person taps on the board. The person points to Danny.

Danny frowns.

The person turns the board back around and makes some Pew, Pew, Pew! sounds with their mouth, occasionally opening and closing their hand over the board to match the noise. There’s some more scribbling. When the board turns back around, there’s a violent smudge of marker on top of the drawn person’s drawn intestines.

The person takes their covered pinky finger and erases a little neat circle of marker in the intestines, mostly favoring one side. They draw a little arrow from the hole to the general outside-of-the-person blank area. Then another circle, with a thicker circle inside.

Danny recognizes the object jutting out of him. Oh. This is how he got it.

The person—probably a doctor, Danny guesses, or the surgeon who did this to him—do these people even need credentials, actually?—hands the board over to the lady. They hold out ten outstretched fingers, marker under their arm, and make a show of counting every one of the outstretched fingers with the opposite hand. Then they take the board back.

And then, when they write on the board, Danny can actually understand what they say.

Or, well, it’s numbers! The numbers are the same as his—the line and a circle is clearly meant to be a ten, and the little x is a multiplication symbol— they draw a 10, as clearly and a brightly as it could be against a stark white board, and add a little x 7, probably to indicate a week; the result is ten suns times seven, or seventy suns.

Danny feels his heart bounce in his chest. Danny would bet a whole lot of money that the number is meant to be seventy days. There is an end point. It’s not that Danny is free to be subjected to random anatomical whims—there’s a goal here. This was purposeful.

The little circle-within a circle gets erased. The hole is scribbled through as if it was never there, and the person makes a weaving gesture with the marker that Danny is certain is meant to be sewing.

Tears prick at his eyes. The lady gets close by him again, but Danny lets her. His hands aren’t good enough for wiping tears the way he wants to, yet. Help and company are good.

She gives him a tissue from Danny's bedside table. He takes it with a whisper of a grip.

“Seventy?” Danny rasps, tearful. Hopeful. Terrified of hope. He practically jams the tissue into his eye sockets.

The lady’s eyes go wide. “Seventy,” she repeats, marveling.

It’s enough. Nothing is perfect, but it’s enough. And if Danny's allowed to spend so long in front of the space window that he falls asleep in his wheelchair, well. It's not like he was in charge of where they went.

#*hip checks through the door* hey losers! Guess who uses Arabic numbers!! Two earths!! #also if ANYONE is shitty about stoma bags or ostomy bags on this fic or in this chat I'm going to fight you. Lots of people have them. #they're usually a temporary procedure and even if they're not they're pretty normal and a lot of people have them. I knew at least one #like haha this is a body horror fic but ostomy bags are a REAL THING that people HAVE as part of their medical journey DO NOT be rude!! #So what we know of his injuries now: messed up legs. Messed up guts. Messed up chest. Is there more...? Who can say. 👀 #health and hybrids #dp x dc #dcu crossover #tw gore #tw medical #tw body horror #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #incarceration to elopement to healthcare pipeline #His healing is speeding up and his language is getting better! When can we get a Diana POV?? <- me to me

[naughtyneganjdm]

Arcadia - Chapter 12

Summary: With Joel being injured, Negan works with him to try to get him better, but it's not working the way he planned. Y/N tries getting romantic with both Negan and Joel again, but when something happens, she starts to realize that they might have an unexpected problem on their hands.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), Joel, Lucy, Nolan, etc.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, smut, etc.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29577489/chapters/110970990

Notes:  This may not be my most popular story and I understand that, but I really loved this story and had this planned out very extensively. I know it's been a very long time since I wrote it, but life got really busy and I had to drop a lot of my stories for quite some time. I'm sorry for that. If you read this, thank you. If not, that's okay because this story is important to me and that's really what matters. I promise I will try to start giving attention to my stories again so I can hopefully finish a majority of my stories before the end of Dead City. Sorry I kind of just dropped my stories for a while.

While Negan had been a gym teacher and a sports star himself in the past, those two jobs were nothing in comparison to the work he had to put in while trying to help Joel get better from his injuries. Complicated was an understatement. It had been a few months since they had found Joel and while most things were healing with Joel, his leg was still a mess. The fractures he had gotten with his leg were still healing and he was still having all kinds of trouble with moving his leg. Every day, Negan attempted to do exercises with Joel to help get the feeling back in his leg, but it didn’t seem to be helping. It didn’t stop them from trying though.

“I don’t get this,” Negan huffed while he helped to try to work out Joel’s leg. Joel was stretched out on the ground, his arms covering his eyes while Negan kept up with the same routine he would do daily. “I feel like by now you should have some kind of feeling back in here. Are you stopping yourself mentally?”

“I could have this for the rest of my life Negan,” Joel grumbled, his southern drawl thicker than normal showing that he was frustrated with Negan’s comments. “I think it’s time we just start to acknowledge that I’m probably not going to be able to feel or move my leg again without your help. I reckon the sooner we realize that, the better. I’m going to be gimpy for the rest of my life beating people with my cane.”

“While the imagery is fucking amusing, that’s not going to be the case,” Negan grunted, his hand squeezing over the fleshy part of Joel’s thigh making Joel growl. “You feel something?”

“Yeah, I fucking ache everywhere Negan. That hasn’t changed. I pretty much feel like I’ve been hit by a truck and I’m just doing my best to pull myself back together,” Joel explained with a heavy sigh knowing that while he may have not been able to feel his leg, his body was incredibly stressed and worn out after his workouts with Negan so he reckoned they hurt. “Maybe you just need to give up.”

“Maybe you just need to shut the fuck up and work harder,” Negan’s hand smacked firmly over Joel’s thigh making Joel cry out in agony and he swiftly moved away from Joel watching Joel’s back arch up. “I am so fucking sorry. I’m sorry.”

Faint snickers started to fall from Joel’s throat when Negan tried to tend to him and help him making Negan’s face twist in confusion, “What’s so funny?”

“I can’t feel my leg Negan. I was fucking with you,” Joel lifted up on his elbows reminding Negan of their general problem that they were having right now. Negan’s eyebrows furrowed when Joel confessed he was just faking Negan out. “You could probably stab me in the leg and I wouldn’t feel you.”

“You fucker,” Negan hit Joel in the gut making Joel wince this time when he curled up and wrapped his arm around his ribs.

“Why would you do that? I actually broke my ribs,” Joel reminded Negan making Negan swiftly lower down in attempts to help Joel making Joel laugh again with how worried Negan seemed to get over him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m fucking with you again. The ribs healed after like two months. I still get sore, but they are…”

“What the fuck Joel,” Negan this time gave a pretty firm hit to the center of Joel’s stomach making him groan out for real this time. “I hope that one hurt because the next one is going to be me punching you in the balls.”

“Nope, definitely felt this one,” Joel rolled onto his side, his eyes closing tightly while Negan paced before him. Joel took a few minutes to gain back his breath that had left his lungs after Negan had hit him that last time. “You would never hit me in the balls…”

“You wanna bet?” Negan’s eyebrow arched up, resting his hands on his hips when his pacing came to a stop. “I don’t need your dick to work in order to have sex with you. I may like being the bottom, but I can make do with what we have.”

“Point taken,” Joel covered his groin making Negan laugh when Joel protected the goods from getting injured.

“You know, you were my favorite until the last few weeks. You were the nice one and now you’re fucking grumpy all the time,” Negan blurt out making Joel roll his eyes and drop his head back against the ground. “Your sassy all the time now.”

“First of all, I might be the nice guy, but I’ve always been grumpy,” Joel reminded Negan, lifting his head up from the ground to stare out at Negan with his thick jawline flexed. “And stop talking about favorites. You’re going to be the one losing your balls if Y/N hears you. It makes her feel bad and you know that.”

“She’s not here,” Negan lowered down pressing in over Joel, balancing his weight over his lover making Joel sigh loudly. “You pretend like you don’t like to hear stuff like that, but you fucking do. You know it. You want to be the person that everyone loves the most. You like being the rock in this family. You want everyone to love you the most.”

“Oh, I do?” Joel’s eyebrow arched in curiosity with the warmth of Negan’s breath over his lips. “Tell me more about what I want.”

“Well,” Negan’s palm lowered between them to cup Joel making Joel let out a tense breath. “I’m sure right now you would much rather your cock in my mouth than doing this physical therapy session with me.”

“Well no shit Sherlock,” Joel teased, his hips arching up toward Negan’s touch making a rumble of a laugh fall from Negan’s throat. “I guess I should be thankful it’s only my leg and foot I can’t feel. I think it enhances the feeling on my co…”

The sound of the door starting to pull open was heard and Joel swiftly slid back on the ground to get away from Negan knowing that it could have been one of the kids at the door. When it was Y/N that was there, Joel let out a relieved breath and dropped his head back on the grass.

“Negan, did you move the peppermint for the tea?” Y/N called out to Negan who got up on his knees, resting back while he thought things over. “I’m just not feeling great and I can’t find it.”

“I think it’s in the furthest cabinet on the right on the top shelf babe,” Negan winked seeing her smile and give him a thumbs up when she headed back into the house. Negan took a minute to think about what she had just said while Joel raised up on his elbows.

“What?” Joel realized that there was something on Negan’s mind after she had mentioned needing the peppermint tea. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” Negan shook his head and cleared his throat, getting up slowly from the ground. Patting his hands off on his pants, Joel was giving Negan the side eye and Negan shrugged his shoulders. “What?”

“I know that look. Something is wrong,” Joel responded with a shake of his head, trying to brace himself up. “What is it?”

“I mean, she’s feeling sick a lot lately. I see her hiding it, but she’s dizzy a lot and I just…” Negan took in a long sigh, pressing his hands in over his hips. “I’m worried about her.”

“It might just be the stress of me,” Joel suggested making Negan frown and shrug his shoulders again dramatically. “If it keeps happening, I’ll try to convince her to see the doctor. Just pay attention and if it keeps happening, we will say something. You are right though. On Lucy’s birthday, she didn’t really want to eat anything. Usually, we all love her cake and you were there to make some good food.”

“Right?” Negan breathed feeling a bit worried when he thought about everything that had been going on. In the months that Joel had been injured, they had Lucy’s birthday and Nolan’s. Those were two of the really good days that all of them had, but Joel wasn’t wrong. Shaking his head, Negan didn’t want his fears getting the worst of him when he looked down at Joel again. “We need to get you moving again because it was Nolan’s birthday wish to get you better.”

“We have to be realistic Negan, I’m trying, but if my body isn’t capable…” Joel frowned looking down to his injured leg showing that he could roll it a bit because he still have movement in his hip, but other than that there wasn’t much more that he could do. “I would do anything for that boy, y’know that.”

“I do, but I still don’t feel like you’re trying hard enough,” Negan reached for Joel to help him up from the ground. Giving Joel his cane, Negan stretched out his lengthy body and groaned. “We need to get you to start trying to not count on that cane to move Joel.”

“Oh yeah? How do you suggest we do that?” Joel balanced his weight, a loud grunt falling from his throat when he hit the ground hard. Negan had kicked his cane out from underneath him. This time Joel was actually hurt and Negan realized he could have done that better after he let out an uncomfortable breath. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Well, what are you going to do if I’m not here? How are you going to get up?” Negan reached for Joel’s cane making Joel hiss out when he pushed himself up into a seated position showing that he had actually scratched himself up a bit in the fall.

“You do realize my leg is still healing, right?” Joel was actually frustrated this time and Negan could see it. “That was really stupid. It could have hurt my leg more.”

“After I did it, I realized how fucking idiotic it was. Yes,” Negan swung Joel’s cane about watching Joel reach out for the cane as if demanding it from Negan. “Nope. You have to get up on your own Joel.”

“Damn it Negan, give it back,” Joel snapped from where he was laid out on the ground, his face angry and his southern drawl full of venom. The sound of the door opening was heard again and it was obvious that Y/N had seen Joel’s fall which drew her outside, but Negan held his hand up to make her wait. A disappointed breath fell from her throat when she realized this was one of Negan’s ploys. “I can’t move without the fucking thing.”

“At some point, we’re going to have to get you to try to put some strength back on that leg so you won’t need this,” Negan spun the cane around watching Joel trying to pull himself up, his face turning red when he did it. “Try and get up on your own.”

“I can’t move my fucking leg,” Joel snarled and Negan looked to his injured leg making Negan shrug his shoulders dramatically and hold his arms up in the air. Trying to pull himself up again, Joel let out a sound that made it seem like he was in excruciating pain when he dropped back in the grass and covered his face with his large hands. “You are the worst physical therapist. Who the hell takes away a disabled man’s cane so he will fall on the fucking ground?”

“Listen, you’re dropping a whole lot of fuck bombs on me, but you’re not trying to get up here,” Negan pointed out making Joel’s hands drag down over his face to glare out at Negan. “What happened to the master of meditation. Most people would have not lived through what you did out there Joel. You taught me that meditation helps you turn your brain off to the pain. You got hurt and I know you’re in pain, but you’re the one that was so big on meditation. Turn off those pain receptors and get up.”

“I can’t even meditate right now Negan. I can’t move my leg like that,” Joel threw his hands up in defeat before shaking his head. “I don’t even know how I lived through that attack Negan. Twice I should have died and I didn’t.”

“No, I don’t like that attitude. You fought. You showed me where you were on the map. Remember? We marked the areas for people to avoid The Empty when they went out on future runs. I know how far you made it on death’s door Joel. Your leg didn’t work then, but you made it miles on your own bleeding out,” Negan reminded Joel how he had found him originally when he was injured. “Do you remember what you told me when I found you? I couldn’t believe you made it that far and you told me that you kept thinking of one thing.”

“My family,” Joel grumbled under his breath, his cheeks flushing over with red when he felt bad about himself and the person he had become. He went from being potentially the strongest person in Arcadia to being disabled because of his leg. “I wish I could control this Negan.”

“I think your brain is holding you back,” Negan pointed at his head, clearing his throat with an uneven breath. “You don’t think you deserve to be happy. We talked about this. You think because of what you did to escape that you don’t deserve to be here. You’re depressed. You’re letting that control your mind. But you did what you had to in order to survive and get back to your family. Now, we just have to get you back to somewhat normal so you can continue to protect your family.”

“They still have you Negan,” Joel reminded Negan with a frown, lowering his head to look down at his leg. Hitting at his leg made Joel let out a frustrated sound while Negan lowered down to stare out at Joel with a shake of his head. “I have been trying Negan. I’m trying.”

“I am nowhere near as strong as you are. I would have died out there if it happened to me,” Negan suggested, his hazel eyes suddenly very serious seeing that Joel was getting emotional over the fact that he felt useless. “I know you better than anyone Joel. You still have nightmares about what you did. I can tell because every night you shake. Y/N might think your nightmares are about what happened to you, but it’s what you did to those people. Those people who wanted to kill you and your family. Stop letting them control you.”

“Negan,” Joel went to say something, but his emotions were still high and he lowered his head. “I wish I could blame that when it comes to my leg.”

“It’s part of it. You aren’t allowing yourself to get better. Think about your family. Think about Lucy, Nolan, Y/N, me…” Negan slowly stood up watching Joel’s forehead crease while his eyes followed Negan’s movements. There was a sadness and a sense of anger in Joel’s eyes while he stared up at Negan. “You can be mad at me all you want, but you know I’m right. So, get up.”

“I can’t you dumbass,” Joel snarled at his husband managing to slide back on the grass trying to pull himself up, grimacing while he struggled to even get himself up to his good knee. “What part of I can’t move my leg doesn’t register in that brain of yours?”

“You’re being very fucking cranky,” Negan pointed his finger out spinning it in the direction of Joel noticing the way that Joel’s green-hazel eyes were locked on him with a sense of rage. “If you’re not going to be able to use that leg again, then you are going to have to learn to make yourself useful without it.”

“Give him his cane back Negan,” Y/N finally called out from where she was standing on the steps making both men turn their heads to look at her. Joel lowered his head embarrassed that she was there and he stroked his fingers through his short hair. Although it was amusing that both men had the same haircut previously, Joel had cut his hair on his own after a few people called him Negan. Now he had a similar haircut that was close to what he had when she had first met him.

“No,” Negan shook his head, making Y/N walk out to them and he kept a firm hold of the cane. “He doesn’t have faith that he will get better so he never will. If he has a reason to keep moving then he will start having faith.”

“You know just as well as I do that the doctor said there was that chance that my leg would never move again,” Joel reminded Negan who continued to wait for Joel to try to move. Bracing himself, Joel started trying to pull himself up attempting to pull his leg with him to use it as a brace. “Negan, give me the damn cane.”

“Come take it from me,” Negan held it out for Joel watching Joel’s face scrunch up in frustration. Joel’s face was turning red while he tried using his arm strength to pull himself up, but ultimately Joel just fell back on the ground in defeat. After giving up, Nolan had obviously spotted him on the ground when he was passing the front door and Negan’s son stepped out on the porch with a sense of worry flooding his features.

“Dad?” Nolan muttered from the stairs seeing that Joel moved his arm that was resting over his eyes to see the worried expression over Nolan’s features. “Do you need help?”

“Shit,” Joel let out a saddened breath knowing that having his son seeing him fail was not something that he wanted Nolan to see. “I just needed a breather, Nolan. I’ll be okay.”

“I can come help you,” Nolan stepped down the steps, his concerned eyes gazing over Joel. Joel looked conflicted now that he had both Nolan and Y/N watching him ultimately be a failure and not being able to help himself. “I know you can do this, but I know that it also has to hurt. So I understand if you can’t.”

Joel gave Negan one final glare before grabbing his injured leg to place it a certain way before groaning out pushing himself up onto one knee. Using his strength, Joel shakily stammered to his feet, falling forward only to be caught by Negan who gave him a proud smile, “See, I told you that you could get up.”

“That hurt like hell,” Joel whispered trying to grimace through the pain when he reached for the cane that was in Negan’s hand. Bopping Negan on the head with the cane he heard Negan huff out when Joel limped over toward Nolan. “I’m sorry buddy.”

“He really just hit me with his cane like a ninety-year-old man,” Negan pointed out with a surprised expression when Y/N moved in beside him. Nolan was helping Joel toward the steps of the porch to get him to sit down.

“Probably the best use he’s found with that cane,” Y/N declared with a frown when she reached out to stroke her hands in over the center of Negan’s chest. “You kind of deserved worse than that. That was quite malicious what you had done.”

“He was able to get up, wasn’t he?” Negan whispered, pulling her in closer to him so he could wrap her up in his arms. Negan nuzzled his nose in against the side of Y/N’s neck before lifting his stare to see that Nolan was hugging Joel who seemed lost inside of himself. “He needs to be persuaded the hard way to fix himself Y/N. A lot of what is going on with him is mental.”

“What does that mean?” Y/N lifted her head to look up at him with a worried stare.

“It means…” Negan knew that Joel told him everything about what happened with those in The Empty that Joel killed, but Joel never told Y/N about it. There was no way that he could just blurt it out to Y/N because that wasn’t his place to tell anyone what Joel told him in confidence. “He just thinks a lot about what happened when The Empty took him. He needs to think about his family. Family is the one thing that persuades Joel to do things. You saw how he reacted when Nolan came out. He did it for him. Joel needs family to help him get strong. It was an asshole thing for me to do and I know that, but it worked. The power of persuasion when it comes to things you love is really big.”

Looking over her shoulder, Y/N saw the way Joel was cuddling Nolan in close to him and it was visible that Joel was emotional about what he had just done, but she didn’t know if what Negan had just done actually helped him or not.

----

“Hey you,” Y/N moved into the bedroom after Joel had asked Negan for help going up the stairs to rest for a while. Joel was laid out at the center of the bed, his arms folded behind his head while he stared up at the ceiling. It was obvious that he was deep in thought. When he heard her, his head lowered and his green-hazel eyes met hers. “You okay?”

“Where are Negan and the kids?” Joel used his arm strength to pull himself up into a seated position on the bed, pressing his back against the headboard.

“Negan is doing some work around the farm and they wanted to help him,” she informed Joel, closing the door behind her and heading over toward the bed to sit beside Joel. It was the first time she had really gotten to have some alone time with Joel in quite some time so she took it. Negan asked if she wanted to help with the farm work, but her mind was on Joel and how he had been feeling lately. “You didn’t answer me.”

“I’m here,” Joel responded with a sigh, shrugging with his answer. “I’m kind of a mess.”

“You’re my favorite mess,” she reached out to brush her fingers into Joel’s short hair, letting out an amused breath that made him tip his head to the side. “I miss your longer hair.”

“You actually liked that side sweep, huh?” Joel lifted his hand up to wrap his fingers loosely around Y/N’s wrist, caressing the pad of his thumb over her pulse point. “I’ll try and let it grow out. I just didn’t like the cut that Negan gave me. Him and I are completely different sizes, but people were always calling me Negan because of the hair. I’m okay with him and Nolan having the same haircut, but it just feels weird with me having it. It was an edgy cut and I’ve never been…like that. Negan and I are very different…”

“No shit…” she breathed out with a wink making Joel laugh before sighing and hooking his fingers with hers. “Are you okay with Negan doing physical therapy with you? I realize he’s a bit of a brute and things would probably be better if the doctors were actually making time for you instead.”

“Negan is perfect, he just gets on my nerves and that’s probably a good thing,” Joel informed her with a simple shake of his head. Joel knew that Y/N was nervous about how things were and he didn’t blame her, but he couldn’t help getting angry with Negan sometimes just because he wasn’t used to that kind of behavior. Joel knew Negan was good for him though. “I need someone to give me shit and give me a hard time. Not someone who is going to baby me. Someone who coddles me isn’t going to help me. Negan understands that, which is why he is perfect. He wants me better. I know that. I just get grumpy sometimes, especially when I’m in pain.”

“Oh, you get grumpy sometimes?” she teased him with a mischievous smile that made Joel roll his eyes and snicker. “I wouldn’t know that. It’s not like I’ve been married to you for over twelve years or anything.”

“Oh hush,” Joel waved his free hand about. “I agree that some of Negan’s choices are questionable, but they are effective.”  

“Lay down,” she instructed making Joel tip his head to the side and she spun her finger in the air multiple times. “You listen to Negan, now listen to me. I’m going to give you a massage. I think you deserve it after everything you’ve gone through today.”

“Oh, well then I’m okay with that,” Joel declared sliding down in the bed, letting out an awkward breath when she crawled in over him. Swallowing down hard, Joel’s lips parted and he let out a sigh when she started rubbing his shoulders. There was definitely some pain in the shoulder he had been shot in, but he assumed it would be sore for a majority of his life. “You know, I didn’t think you would be mounting me in order to give me a massage.”

“Typical male,” she rolled her eyes while caressing down over the center of his chest before back toward his shoulders again. It made Joel’s eyebrows bounce up and he looked down between them to see that her hips were hovering over his. “Turn off the horny for a minute.”

“Right…like you didn’t know that crawling in over me like this wouldn’t get my mind thinking things,” Joel snorted, his eyebrow arching in curiosity while her caress slid down over his abdomen. A frown tugged at his lips when she adjusted her positioning so she was no longer over him and she was caressing over his injured leg. “That was rude.”

“I was actually just trying to make you feel better,” her nose wrinkled and she smirked while she caressed over his body trying to work out the tight muscles. “I think he’s working you too hard.”

“Sometimes I think he should work me harder because I need to progress better. It’s been a few months, I should be better off than this. If I don’t start to get some feeling in my leg, there is a strong chance that I may never get it back. I don’t want that,” Joel acknowledged with a wince when she slid her fingers further up over toward his hip making him smirk. “That’s where I was stabbed and I do feel that.”

“I’m sorry,” she pulled back, pushing at the material of his sweatpants that he was wearing to look at the healing flesh that was there from where he had been stabbed. At this point it was mostly just a scar, but she could imagine that it was definitely sensitive for him. “It looks okay.”

“I’m scarred to high hell,” Joel frowned knowing that he had already had that major scar on his abdomen and back from before, but now he was covered in them. “Might as well just label me as Scar because I probably have more than anyone here.”

“And you’re still incredibly sexy,” she hushed him continuing to rub down over his injured leg. After a while, she started to notice that there was a tent at the center of Joel’s sweatpants and her eyes lifted to his. “Are you sure you don’t feel anything?”

“I don’t,” Joel was honest, his chest rising and falling heavily when he saw that her eyes were focused over the center of his pants. “Yeah, we found out that my dick still works and I’m really sorry, but I see you caressing my leg like that after you were just mounting me…the blood just started flowing there. I’m sorry. I might not be feeling you touching my leg, but my mind is thinking…things and I’m so sorry dear. I’m a man and I’ve not really had a lot of sex in the last few months. Not that that’s a good excuse.”

“No, please don’t say I’m sorry. I’m glad that I can still, well…” she smirked continuing to caress over Joel’s thigh making him grumble and cover his eyes. “I’m glad that I can still make you hard. The two of us haven’t slept together since that night at the apartments. So I wasn’t sure if I could still make you get an erection.”

“Obviously,” Joel chuckled pulling his hands away from his eyes, raising up on his elbows. The facial expression he had made it seem like he thought she was insane for even thinking that he wouldn’t be turned on by her. “The day before I got hurt you rode the hell out of me. I mean, that was some of the best sex I’ve had in a very long time. You took control, you knew what you wanted and shit it was incredible. Why wouldn’t you get me hard?”

“I don’t know, I have bad self-esteem sometimes,” she shrugged, caressing her hands up and over Joel’s hips making him suck in a sharp breath. It had been an exceedingly long time since she had slept with either Negan or Joel. They were all just so busy that by the end of the day they were all so exhausted and they just crashed once they finally had alone time. “You know me.”

“I do know you. You are the sexiest woman I have ever known, you should never feel bad about yourself. You are the best mother, the biggest badass and so beautiful,” Joel growled noticing the way that her fingertips slid in underneath the waistband of his sweatpants to caress at the flesh that was right beneath it. “I guess I should be happy that part of me still works. I was worried at first that I wouldn’t be able to feel things or get it up.”

“Sit up,” she ordered Joel and without question he did what she asked of him. Reaching for the t-shirt that he was wearing, she pulled it up his body and tossed it aside on the floor. Placing her hand at the center of his chest, she urged him to lean back against the bed. Joel’s breathing grew louder while she palmed down over the center of his chest and over his lower abdomen. Joel’s eyebrow arched when she focused on the scars that were left over his chiseled form.

“You feel bad for me when you see my scars,” Joel pointed out with a loud swallow knowing that he was still self-conscious about them. “I’ve lost some of my muscle definition and now I’m covered in scars. You and Negan always loved my chest and my arms.”

“I love every part of you,” she hushed him, lowering down to kiss over the scars that were left over his flesh. Taking her time, she could feel Joel caressing over her shoulders and it made her smile. “You act like you’ve got a dad bod and you don’t. If anything, your chest and arms are still exceedingly nice because you are bracing the entirety of your strength on them. But even if you had a bit of a belly, which you don’t, I would still find you crazy sexy.”

“You’re too good to me,” Joel lifted his fingers, to caress over her jawline when taking in a sharp breath.

“And you’re too good for me, yet…here we are,” she dragged her fingers through the dark hair covering his torso. Getting on her knees, she hovered over him for a moment before depositing a kiss over his lips making him hum in the moment. The placement of her kisses lowered from his lips, down over his jawline following the lengths of his body down over the center of his chest and toward his lower abdomen. Wet kisses continued at the waistband of his sweatpants before she reached for the top of his pants. Covering his hips with faint, tender kisses had him taking in a sharp breath before moaning out.

“Y/N, you don’t have to feel empathy for me you know,” Joel noticed the way she was pampering the certain areas of his torso that would make him a shuddering mess.

“I don’t,” she breathed hearing Joel chuckle when she said it so blatantly like that. Lifting her head, a wicked smirk was pressed in over her features as she shrugged her shoulders. “What I mean is that I’m more so turned on by the idea of you getting a hard on over this. It has nothing to do with empathy.”

“Oh, I see,” Joel nodded, his head tipping back when he laughed and he felt her tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants making him groan when the warmth of her fingers wrapped around his solid length. “I think you and Negan just like the idea of taking advantage of a disabled man.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong,” she teased him placing soft kisses over his rigid manhood making Joel’s brow line crease. Licking his lips, Joel reached out with his hand to stroke over the side of Y/N’s face. “It does have a certain appeal to it.”

“The two of you are crazy,” Joel breathed letting out a sigh when she wrapped her fingers around his shaft and brought him to her lips. When she parted her wet lips and took him in her mouth, Joel let out a moan and did his best to keep his eyes focused on her. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to get better between you and Negan. Not that I’m going to want to if the two of you are going to keep pampering me like this.”

Joel let out an immediate groan when he felt her taking him back in her throat. The motion had his hips arching up toward her involuntarily and a wet sound filled the air. Looking down, he enjoyed the sight of his wife pleasuring him and bit down on his bottom lip. It felt like both Negan and Y/N were out to pamper him and he didn’t know if it was because they felt bad for him, but he wasn’t about to complain.

“Y/N,” Joel panted lifting up on his elbows while he watched her pleasuring him. Closing his eyes, Joel felt his jaw tensing up and he shook his head. “Stop, stop.”

“What’s wrong?” she pulled her mouth from his body with a wet sound watching the way that he pulled himself up against the headboard again.

“Take your pants off,” Joel instructed seeing her smirk before getting up from the bed. Joel cleared his throat when he watched her head over to the door to lock it. Joel felt his heart skip a beat when she stripped off her pants and her panties before crawling in over him. “I wish we had more interesting positions we could do here, but I’m kind of limited at the moment.”

“You know I like being in control,” she hushed him, letting out a tense sound when Joel reached for her shirt and tugged it up over the lengths of her body when she lowered her hips in closer to him.

“Oh, I’m very aware,” Joel slurred, his eyebrows bouncing up when she reached between the two of them to lead him into her making them both release a moan when he entered her. Taking some time to lower herself down over him, she got used to the feeling again while she felt Joel’s hands caressing up and over the sides of her body. Fumbling with the back of her bra, Joel had some issues getting her bra open making her laugh. “I’m trying here…”

“Right,” she started confidently moving her hips over his, meeting his lips in a fervent kiss. Joel finally got the material pulled apart before pulling it from her arms to toss it beside the bed.

“Fuck,” Joel buried his nose against the side of Y/N’s neck while she rolled her hips over his body causing desperate moans to fall from his throat. “I hate to say this…but being injured hasn’t been that bad. I mean, it’s bad, but I’ve like some of the benefits.”

“What?” she chuckled with a chill flooding her spine when Joel’s fingers dug firmly into her hips. “Why would you say something like that?”

“You and Negan have been pampering the fuck out of me and this whole being controlled thing? I’m all for it,” Joel nipped a the side of her neck, moaning loudly when she used his body in a way that made her feel good. “It makes me not want to get better.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she purred, tugging at his hair making him growl out. Joel’s right arm slid firmly around her waist, helping her movements over his manhood before his head dropped down to kiss over the side of her neck, toward her collarbone and down between the valley of her breasts. The pampered kisses had her tipping her head back while she continued to roll her hips over his enjoying the way that he felt inside of her. A whimper escaped her throat when she felt his tongue lapping at her nipple before suckling tenderly at it. Sliding his left hand up her body, he cupped her breast in his palm making her wince. “Jesus Joel!”

“What’d I do?” Joel jumped, his head pulling back and away when he saw her reaching for her breast to touch it. “What is it?”

“It’s just…tender,” she explained, blowing it off watching his hands settle at her hips. Joel’s eyes were staring at her breasts, his lips parted while he looked her over. After a while, she noticed the way he was looking at her. “What?”

“Are you pregnant?” Joel blurt out making Y/N let out an offended sound and immediately he regretted asking it. “Oh, I don’t mean that in a bad way.”

“Am I looking fat?” she questioned making Joel shake his head. It seemed like he was at a loss for words, trying to not offend her, but he couldn’t help letting out an anxious laugh. “Why would you even ask me that?”

“Well…” Joel felt her movements stop over him and he groaned out, dropping his head back against the headboard. “Please…please don’t stop.”

“Joel!” she hit at the center of his chest hearing him groan, biting into his bottom lip while she stayed stagnant over him.

“Negan said you’ve been feeling dizzy, you’re nauseous, your breasts are tender…I’ve been with you every time you’ve been pregnant,” Joel suggested, gazing over her breasts and offering up a wicked smirk. “And your breasts look…bigger. Not that they aren’t looking incredible all the time because they do, but…”

“I’m not pregnant Joel,” she snorted watching Joel throw his hands up in the air almost in a defensive position. “I’m not.”

“Okay, I was wrong. I’m sorry,” Joel apologized, caressing in over the side of her neck leaning up to kiss her over and over again. It drew her to wrap her arms around his shoulders so she had some advantage in the power of her movements over him. When things felt good, she would add more strength to her movements making Joel moan out. Digging her fingers into his hair, she felt her own heart racing while she worked to bring the both of them to an orgasm. “I love you so much.”

While having Joel hold her in his arms, she knew that she was breathless while she tried to think about what he had mentioned. Trying to recall the last time she had her period, she really couldn’t think about it. She had been so focused on the town and everything happening that she wasn’t really thinking about her period. Then again, it wouldn’t have been the first time that she had gone a few months without having her period. It’s just since Arcadia had been properly established, she had noticed she was pretty regular.

Kissing at the side of Joel’s neck, she stroked her fingers through Joel’s short beard and took her time to gather herself. There was no way that she would have been pregnant. The last time she had sex was months ago with Negan and Joel. She’d be bigger than this by now. Right?

----

After Joel had fallen asleep, Y/N had headed back downstairs where she knew that Negan was with the children. The sounds of giggling was heard making her head toward the office to stand at the partially opened doorway. Leaning against the door frame, she watched Negan read a story to both Lucy and Nolan who were cuddled up with him. Negan was reading to them in silly voices making them both laugh at his antics which brought her extreme amounts of happiness.

Watching them together made her think about what Joel had asked her earlier. It made her think back on how she didn’t want to have another child because worrying about Nolan and Lucy was more than enough for her. When Negan kept pushing for them to have another child, she wasn’t very pro that decision because she thought having one son and one daughter was more than enough. So what if she was pregnant? Right now really wasn’t the time for that. Joel and Negan were both great fathers, but Joel was injured and could barely move on his own without his cane.

There was so much going on. The Empty was still out there. Joel was trying to get better. She was in charge of the community. A pregnancy just wasn’t in the playing cards right now, so she hoped that maybe it was a thought of Joel’s that may have just been brought about by him maybe not realizing his own power in the way that he touched her breast. At least, that was the most she could hope for.

As Negan finished up with the story, Lucy cuddled in closer beside Negan and looked up at him, “You should read us another story.”

“It’s bedtime Sunshine,” Negan closed up the book and set it down in his lap before curling his arms around both Nolan and Lucy’s shoulder to bring them in for a big group hug. “We have a busy day tomorrow. I promise I will read another story to you tomorrow.”

“Dad, come on,” Nolan tried to push his father for another story making Negan let out a long exhale.

“Just read them another one, you know they are going to sucker you into it,” Y/N muttered surprising the three of them that she was there watching them. Negan smirked and pointed over toward the shelves of the books that Joel had collected in his time being at Arcadia. “You’re a sucker. I hope you know that.”

“Runs in the family,” Negan joked watching Y/N head over toward the shelves to look for a certain book. When she found it, she handed it over to Negan watching the way he eyed over the book.

“This was Nolan’s favorite when he was Lucy’s age. You don’t mind if Negan reads this one, do you?” Y/N questioned her son and immediately Nolan shook his head. Sitting beside Nolan, she pulled him into her arms and heard her son laughing when she kissed at the side of his face. “I love you so much. You know that?”

“I love you too mom,” Nolan got comfortable in her arms allowing her to hold onto him while they all got comfortable on the couch together. It wasn’t a short story and Y/N knew that, but she wanted to spend some time with her family. The last few months were so busy that she didn’t really feel like she had a lot of down time with her children. So this was something that she was going to enjoy.

It was already late into the night, so by the time that they were done, Lucy had fallen asleep against Negan’s chest and Nolan was still awake, but just barely. Negan finished with the book and set it aside on the couch.

“You want to take the little one and I’ll get the big guy?” Negan looked down at Lucy, caressing over her shoulders with a smile.

“Deal,” Y/N gave a wink, carefully standing up before picking Lucy up in her arms. Lucy wrapped her arms around Y/N’s shoulders. Lucy’s tired eyes opened and she waved with a yawn.

“Goodnight Ne…daddy,” Lucy had to correct herself making Negan smile that she was trying so hard to remember to call him dad now. He told her that she didn’t have to, but she kept at it. “Goodnight Nolan.”

“Goodnight Lucy,” Nolan waved to his little sister, laughing when he felt Negan picking him up and throwing him over his shoulder. Nolan’s laughter filled the air when Negan spun him around. Clutching to his father tightly, he heard Negan snickering as well before carrying Nolan up the stairs like this. “You’re not going to drop me, are you?”

“Of course not,” Negan stammered following Y/N up the stairs keeping a strong hold of Nolan. “Dang kiddo. You are super fucking tall and you’re just twelve. You’re going to be taller than me when you’re fully grown.”

“Dad,” Nolan gasped when Negan pulled him forward to hold Nolan in his arms making Negan smile. “I’m never going to forgive you if you drop me.”

“I would never drop you,” Negan assure his son heading toward Nolan’s bedroom to carefully lower Nolan into his bed. With a wink, Negan reached for Nolan’s covers to start pulling them up and over his son’s body. “I love you kiddo. See, no dropping.”

“One day, I’m going to carry you like that. I hope you know that,” Nolan pushed Negan in the chest playfully before Negan lowered down to press a kiss over Nolan’s forehead.

“I have no doubts about that. You’re going to be a strong little man,” Negan gave his son a wink before rubbing his fingers through his son’s matching haircut. Tipping his head to the side, Negan couldn’t help but find himself happy while he stared down at his son. “Get some sleep. I need your help around the farm tomorrow.”

“You got it,” Nolan offered up a big smile to his father before looking to his bedroom door to see that Y/N was standing there waiting for Negan. “Goodnight mom.”

“Goodnight baby,” Y/N moved into the room to lower down to press a kiss over Nolan’s forehead making Nolan smile happily. “You’re always going to be my baby, no matter how big you get. You know that, right?”

“Of course,” Nolan reached up to place his hand in over Y/N’s seeing the way that she was staring down at him. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I just really love you,” Y/N muttered with a whisper, stroking her fingers through Nolan’s hair. “You and your sister mean everything to me.”

“We know that,” Nolan insisted with a nod of his head, reaching for the teddy bear that was his that he still kept with him in bed. “I love you and both of my dads very much.”

“We know you do buddy,” Negan assured his son with a sigh, getting up from the bed and heading for the door. Y/N gave Nolan another kiss on the head before heading for the door. Negan smiled, waving to Nolan who waved back and cuddled into his bed. “Goodnight little man.”

When they closed the door, Negan and Y/N stood in the hallway. It was silent, Negan’s hazel eyes staring into hers when he looked over toward their bedroom, “How is Joel?”

“He’s in better spirits,” she didn’t exactly want to elaborate what that meant considering what went down between them. “I told him I thought you were being too hard on him, but he thinks you’re the best possible physical therapist he can get. He doesn’t want to have someone who is going to baby him. He thinks your way of doing things actually helps him more than anyone else could.”

“Ah, see, I know how to work with him,” Negan smirked, reaching up to stroke at the back of his neck letting out a long sigh. “It took a while to figure it out but getting him angry is the best way to make him do things. Either that or using his family. I really do think sometimes it’s more so a lock in his mind. Sometimes I notice him moving even if it’s not much. We’ve been working a lot together and it’s not me just being hopeful.”

“I wish that was true,” she looked toward the door with a worried expression. “Negan, what’s going on with him?”

“I…” Negan swallowed down hard, motioning her to follow him down the stairs again. When they headed to the office, he picked up the book he had left on the couch and returned it to its former position. Y/N took a seat on the couch and waited for Negan to say something, but when he turned to face her, he folded his arms out in front of his chest. “I can’t tell you.”

“What do you mean that you can’t tell me?” she tipped her head to the side, stroking down over the side of her face. “Joel is my husband you know. He was for over twelve years.”

“And he’s been my husband for about a half a year, I understand that you have that over me, but if you tell me something in confidence, I wouldn’t tell his ass either,” Negan explained, throwing his right hand up in the air. It was clear that he was conflicted with what he wanted to say to her, but ultimately, he sighed. “Just…some dark shit happened when he was taken by The Empty and it really bothers him. I think it’s blocking him from healing.”

“Are you suddenly a priest? He told you something in confidence?” she repeated what he said making Negan snort. “That’s not the Negan that I know.”

“The Negan you knew is not the same man that stands before you,” Negan insisted with a firm shake of his head. “I know I was a certain way for a long time, but I’m trying to be better. For you, for Joel…for the kids. I want to be the best version of me that I can be.”

“God, I want to be mad at you and then you go and say shit like that,” she sighed, lowering her head to bury her head into her hands. Negan sighed and headed to sit down beside her on the couch to caress over her shoulders in a supportive sweep. “I’m just really worried about him Negan. I don’t know what to do to help him.”

“Leave that bit to me,” Negan whispered, resting his head in against her shoulder while he took his time to caress over her back. “You both are so stressed. When all you really need to realize right now is that we are here. We are together. Family is the thing that keeps us all fighting. We need to cherish every moment of that.”

Lifting her head, Y/N’s eyes searched Negan’s before she swiftly move forward to wrap her fingers around the back of Negan’s neck to pull him into a kiss. It surprised Negan at first, but he eagerly kissed her back, his tongue brushing between her lips making her whimper. Gasping out, she felt Negan reaching for her leg to pull her in over his lap. Caressing up and over the sides of her body, Negan dropped his head back against the couch and cleared his throat.

“What was that for?” Negan’s fingers pushed underneath her shirt to stroke at her flesh at her lower back.

“I’m just very emotional lately,” she explained with a frown, cupping his face in her hands while stroking her thumbs over the sides of his face. “There is a lot going on and my brain is just…”

“It’s okay to get emotional sometimes,” Negan whispered, lifting up enough to press faint kisses all over her face before finally meeting her lips in another passionate kiss that took her breath away. “You’ve gone through a lot and I don’t think you’ve even had time to register. We found Joel and you had to just go straight into working again. You never take a break.”

“I’d be lost without you,” she whispered, dragging her thumb out over Negan’s bottom lip and he kissed at the pad of it. “I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here. I don’t think I could have been the leader and taken care of Joel at the same time. You don’t think he is upset with me for not having a lot of time to be with him, do you?”

“If anything, I think he feels bad that the weight of everything has fallen on your shoulders. He loves you so very much,” Negan informed her, dragging his thumb over her jawline making her lean into his touch. Lifting up, he pressed wet kisses down over the side of her neck and growled against her flesh. “We both do, you have to know that.”

“I slept with Joel today,” she blurt out making Negan snort and chuckle against the side of her neck making chills run down her spine. Pulling back, Negan’s thick eyebrows arched up and he shrugged. “I just thought I should tell you.”

“Good, do you want to sleep with me today too?” Negan offered making her half laugh before looking down between them. “Did you think I would get upset if you slept with Joel…or…? We’re all together. I want you two to still be as close as you were before I got here. But I don’t mind sleeping with you or him if you two already got it on earlier in the day.”

“I just don’t want to keep things from you,” she whispered watching Negan shrug his shoulders and let out another deep, raspy laugh.

“Thank you for telling me?” Negan bobbed his head about before adjusting her to lean her back against the couch. Reaching for her pants, he tugged them from her body and tossed them aside. “Just makes me hotter thinking about the two of you together. You never have to worry about that.”

“Negan,” she breathed out feeling him hooking his fingers into her panties to get them from her body as well before reaching for his belt to undo it. Licking her lips, she watched Negan pull down his zipper before opening his pants fully to reach inside to pull out his hard cock. Watching Negan stroke his fingers over his erection made her mouth go dry before letting out a nervous breath when Negan lowered in over her. Negan traced the tip of his length through her sensitive folds before leading his body to her entrance and pushing forward. A gasp fell from her throat before Negan’s lips claimed hers. This time Negan was in control of things and it was vastly different from what she had experienced with Joel, but she assumed that’s why Negan was doing it this way.

“Did you still like riding his hard cock?” Negan growled against her earlobe, taking his time to roll his hips against hers again and again. The soft smacks of their skin together filled the small office along with their faint moans. “Did he enjoy it?”

“He told me he never wants to get better if you and I keep pampering him like we do,” she informed Negan hearing him chuckle against the side of her neck. It made her shudder at the sensation before Negan started peppering kisses over her jawline. “Negan…”

Trying to silence her moans, she hooked her fingers into Negan’s hair and buried her head against the side of his neck knowing that she wasn’t very good at staying quiet. Pants filled the air and she could feel Negan slide his left hand up underneath her shirt, his large palm caressing in over her breast making her immediately wince.

“Fuck,” she hissed making Negan pull his hand back immediately, his eyes staring down at her wondering if he had done something to hurt her. After she had been so sensitive both times, she let out a long exhale and sighed. “Shit.”

“What’d I do?” Negan searched her eyes, his movements had stopped completely and he waited to make sure that everything was okay. “Y/N?”

“It’s nothing,” she pulled him down closer to her knowing that in her mind something was going on, but she didn’t want to throw it on him right now. “Just keep going.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan agreed, lowering back in over her and taking his time to thrust over her. This was drawn out extensively and by the time they were done, they both were laying on the couch together with Negan having her wrapped up in his arms.

“I sometimes wonder if this whole thing happened because I was a bad person,” she informed Negan, drawing circles at his lower abdomen just under his navel from where his shirt was lifted up revealing his slender abdomen.

“Say what?” Negan grunted, his facial expression clearly confused when she lifted her head to look up at him.

“I don’t know Negan. I think sometimes my punishment for this was all of the shit we went through. I knew you were married when I was younger and I continued to see you. What we did to Lucille was awful. Maybe I deserved all the pain and suffering I went through,” she thought aloud making Negan immediately shake his head and let out a huff. “I was so hooked on the idea of you leaving Lucille for me because I loved you so fucking much that I never thought about how horrible I was actually being. Looking back on it now, I don’t blame Lucille for doing what she did to me. I was awful. If there is such a thing as the afterlife, Lucille deserves to knock me out with a right hook once I reach it.”

“To be fair, it’s all my fault that it was happening. I knew what I needed to do to keep you there,” Negan insisted with a grunt, his eyebrows showing an array of emotion while he tried to take in what she said. “Y/N, that’s all on me. You tried to leave me multiple times, but I always kept you there because I knew what to say and what to do. And even at that, this happened to the whole world Y/N. If this is your punishment, I’d say you lucked out. You got married to the nicest guy on the planet and he’s pretty fucking hot. You have two incredible fucking kids. You both are the leaders of this really nice community…”

“But I’ve almost lost Joel twice and to get to this point was rough. You and I were separated for twelve years Negan. I thought you were dead that whole time,” she lifted up to stroke down over the side of his face. “I loved you so much when I was younger, I would have done anything to be with you.”

“And you’re with me. And we have a beautiful son,” Negan hushed her, curling his finger in underneath her jaw and caressing tenderly over her flesh. “You are right here with me. Nothing is taking me away from you anytime soon. I’ve been trying to spend every day of my life making up on the missed time. That’s why I do what I do with you, Joel and the kids. I want to be there for you. And same with Ghost. He's around here somewhere just lounging around. I missed out on so much and I don’t want to regret the past or think about what could be. I like what we have right here and right now. Joel is still alive. You’re alive. I’m alive. We need to focus on that and be happy. We found our own little miracle in each other. And I’m not letting go of that.”

“I love you so much,” she whispered meeting his lips in a loving sweep. When she pulled away, she couldn’t help but feel her heart racing.

“I love you too,” Negan declared with a big smile and a wink before hearing the door creaking making Negan lift his head when he saw Ghost walking into the room to check in on them. It made Negan thankful that they had pulled their clothes back on. “There is the little man.”

Reaching out to stroke over Ghost’s ears, Negan couldn’t help but smile with the way their dog enjoyed the petting he was getting. After a few minutes, Ghost groaned and lowered down to the ground to get comfortable by the couch with them, “Ghost and I have the same attitude. We’re old, we’re tired and we love our family.”

“Negan,” she looked down at the dog they had gotten together, reaching her hand down to pet over Ghost’s fur. “You’re right about a lot of things you know. We’re lucky to be here. And family is the thing that makes Joel fight. I have a feeling he’s going to have a boost for that soon.”

----

“See, you made a lot of progress today,” Negan helped get Joel to the kitchen table once they had done Joel’s exercises outside. “And we didn’t even have to kick the cane out from you. You did it all on your own.”

“Thanks for not doing that,” Joel rest his cane against the table with a half-smile, accepting the glass of water that Negan brought to him. After they started to get comfortable at the table, they heard the sound of the front door opening.

“Hey?” Y/N called out making Negan look back over his shoulder. “Anyone home?”

“In the kitchen,” Negan hollered out hearing her swiftly moving through the house. When she realized it was just the two of them, she tipped her head to the side. “They are doing their homework upstairs because I promised them if they did, we would go get ice cream tonight and camp outside again.”

“What’s wrong?” Joel noticed the way that Y/N was breathing heavily. There was some color in her cheeks and he shifted forward in the chair that he was in. “Y/N?”

“I think this is something that you both need to hear,” Y/N began seeing the way that Joel stared out at her with big eyes. “I know it’s horrible timing. I know it’s wrong to have this happen now, but…”

“But?” Joel pulled himself up with a groan and wrapped his fingers firmly around the cane that helped to keep him balanced. “You’re making me nervous darlin’.”

“I’m pregnant,” she stammered making the glass that was in Negan’s hand drop to the ground and shatter. A moment later Negan was picking her up in his arms and spinning her around making her laugh. That was a pretty immediate reaction that had impressed Y/N. She knew this was everything that Negan had wanted and he proved that in his response. “You might want to be careful with that. I’m very nauseated right now.”

“I’m sorry,” Negan set her down on her feet and cupped her face in his hands. Negan let out a happy sound and Y/N turned her head to see Joel limping across the room to her. Pulling from Negan she headed over to Joel feeling his arm hooking around her shoulders to pull her into a hug and bury his nose against the side of her neck when he hugged her. “When did you find out?”

“Well I wasn’t feeling very good,” she answered noticing that Joel was holding her longer than normal, but she knew it was a special moment as she stroked her fingers through his hair. “I threw up a few times and just thought it was from the stress, but the other day when I was with Joel and he touched my breast, it hurt like hell. Originally, I thought it was Joel just unaware of his strength because he was injured, but he mentioned that he thought I was pregnant. I blew it off because I didn’t…I didn’t think things were good for that right now. But then when you touched my breast later in the day, it was still incredibly sensitive and that’s when I knew that Joel was right when you put things together.”

“See, sometimes I know what I’m talking about,” Joel grunted against the side of her neck, pressing a quick kiss there before pulling back enough to look her over. “Next time, don’t think I’m trying to call you fat or anything like that.”

“You thought she was pregnant and you didn’t say anything?” Negan grumbled making Joel’s face twist with confusion. “I thought she was pregnant, but I kept my mouth shut because I didn’t want to assume things.”

“Well congratulations you were both right,” she tossed her hands up in the air, seeing the way that Joel leaned against the edge of the table to help balance himself before reaching for her hand.  

“How far along?” Joel’s deep, raspy southern drawl questioned, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand. Negan moved forward and reached for her other hand making her let out a nervous breath.

“I think we all know the answer to that. It has to be from the week that everything fell to shit. The other day is the first time I slept with you both since then,” Y/N announced, sliding her palm in over her stomach making the both of them nod. “The doc is going to get the ultrasound up and running. We’re going to be able to see it soon. I thought I would be bigger by now since that was months ago, but the doctor told me this is normal, so I guess…he thinks everything is okay right now.”

“Well then you definitely don’t know who the father is because you slept with Joel and I within a twenty-four-hour time-span,” Negan concluded making her nod slowly as he let out a tense breath.

“We weren’t going to care who the father was if she ended up getting pregnant,” Joel reminded Negan of what they had said previously, his green-hazel eyes locked on his lover when Negan mentioned it. “Remember? As long as she was pregnant the both of us would act accordingly. We are both the father. It doesn’t matter who the biological father is.”

“Of course it doesn’t matter,” Negan took a minute to agree with Joel, a half smirk pressing in over his features when Joel wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulders to give her a hug again before allowing her to go to Negan. Negan’s thick eyebrows bounced up when he reached out to caress the back of his palm over her abdomen. “I can’t believe I finally get to be here for this…”

“We’re going to have to figure some stuff out here because this is going to be hard,” she spoke up enough to get Negan’s attention. “Having a baby isn’t easy. Especially with everything that has been going on. It’s going to be hard. We have to tell the kids and it’s going to take a shit load of planning. I hope you know that.”

“I’m ready,” Negan nodded his head, visibly the most excited of the three of them. “I’ll do whatever I have to make this whole thing work because I’ve never wanted something more than this in my whole life.”

#Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan #The Walking Dead #negan x reader #negan fanfiction #twd fanfiction

[selineram3421]

Ooooh! HC 25 with besties Alastor and Reader please?

Yay for the besties!

HC 25 : "Bite down on this."

Lol what?

The Taste of Leather

Platonic: Alastor X Reader Oneshot

Warning! ⚠

⚠ explosives, killing of Egg-men, cussing, descriptive injuries, stitches, threats ⚠

~

You know when your friends do something that's obviously dumb and dangerous, but you go anyways just to keep an eye on them?

Yeah, that's what you were doing right now in a workshop.

Cherri was currently in the process of strapping a bomb to one of Sir Pentious newest inventions, Angel was helping by setting up more bombs.

The job you had was lookout.

You got dragged into this mess just for being nearby Angel when he got a text from her.

"Got all of them set up?", the one eyed demon asks.

"You bet'cha babe!", Angel says, dusting his hands off. "When is this thing gonna go off anyway?"

"Five minutes.", Cherri answers.

Five-

"Five minutes!?", you ask, looking back at the two. "That's barely enough time to leave without getting caught!"

And just as you say that, an Egg henchman spots you and pushes a red button.

"Well fuck."

An alarm goes off and red lights flash. Cherri sets the timer, running up and kicking the Egg-man over the railing.

Crack!

"Let's go!", she smiles and starts running.

You and Angel follow, killing of the Egg-men with guns and other weapons.

"We don't have time for this!", you growl, hitting an Egg-man with a bat, and punching another that was running up to you.

"I mean, we could jump out one of the windows.", the spider demon comments.

"And break an arm? No thank you.", you say, shoving an Egg into the wall. "Ew, I'm covered in guts.", you look down at your hands.

Finally the exit door is in view and you're the last one to run out of the building. The five minutes are up, the workshop explodes.

"Ah!", you shout as you're blown away by the blast, hitting your leg against a metal pole.

The sound it makes is concerning. Like a snap and a crunch.

"FUCKING SHIT!", you cry out on the ground.

"Oh fuck!", Angel calls out your name and runs over to you. He cringes as he takes a closer look at your leg. "That ain't good."

You groan and look over to see the damage.

Bone pokes through your skin, revealing your torn up muscles and the other half of the bone. Oh, and tons of blood.

"That's a lot-", your eyes roll back and you pass out.

.

Alastor was reading the news paper, taking a sip of his coffee when Angel burst through the door of his radio tower.

"Smiles! Need a little help!", the fluffy demon shouts.

"What in the blazes!? Angel!", Alastor had spilled his coffee onto the paper. "₩Ⱨ₳₮!?", he turns to look at the demon with radio dials for eyes.

He stops soon after once seeing your passed out form. They quickly set you on the couch and Alastor gathers some tools to help with fixing your leg.

You wake up screaming, feeling your broken leg being pulled.

"Bite down on this.", Alastor puts a belt in your mouth to bite on.

You do so and your shouts of pain are muffled a bit. Eyes tearing up from the burning and stabbing feeling in your leg.

"Almost done hun.", Angel says holding one of your hands.

When that part is done, you feel numb as the gash on your leg is stitched up. Belt out of your mouth but there's still the lingering taste of leather. Tear stains on your face as you sniffle.

"You fucking asshole.", you mumble. "I'm kicking you in the balls once my leg is all healed."

"Haha..", Angel laughs, grimacing as your hold crushes his hand.

Alastor grins, wrapping your leg up with gauze, prepping to make a cast. "I'd like to see that."

Your cast is complete!

Angel gets a marker, popping off the cap. "I'm gonna draw a dick!"

You quickly toss a pillow to his face. "Fuck off, Alastor gets to sign first."

Once getting the marker, Alastor signs his name and writes some song lyrics. Then Angel gets the marker.

"No dicks, not unless you want yours removed.", you threaten.

"Fine.", the spider huffs and just writes his name with a heart at the end.

The porn star leaves after you've decided to stay at the radio tower.

"So!", Alastor says with a clap of his hands. "Care to tell me how this happened?"

"Ugh..", you groan and flop your head back onto a pillow. "Angel dragged me to set up some bombs with Cherri. My leg hit a pole and-", you gesture to your leg in the cast. "..well..this was the outcome."

He hums and picks up his empty mug.

"Say, why don't I make us some soup? It does sound appetizing.", he says and the news paper on the table disappears with a snap of his fingers.

"Mmmm...soup.", you hum in agreement. "With meat, veggies. And some bread on the side.", you list off.

Alastor covers you with a blanket. "I'll get you some painkillers and water before I make it. Rest now."

This was one of the pros of being best friends with the Radio Demon.

He makes good soup.

Good soup.

.

.

.

.

Later.

"I can put a fast healing spell, so you can surprise Angel.", Alastor smiles like a menace.

"Hell yeah.", you cheer.

~

If you couldn't tell, I want soup.

~Seline, the person.

Prompt-list: ✨here✨

ML for Alastor🎙

#x reader #gn reader #alastor x reader #platonic #angel dust #cherri bomb #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #cherri bomb hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #sir pentious mentioned #egg henchmen #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon alastor #the radio demon #radio demon #broken bone #explosives mentioned #soup #good soup #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel cherri bomb #fanfic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel oneshot

[palpipeen]

CC-3636 Rebels!Wolffe x Reader: Old Men, Old Habits

You're one of many medics for the Rebellion. Sort of. And a retired commander keeps turning up hurt despite your warnings that you’ll keep him on light duty if this keeps up. You're not sure what makes things worse - that you both hate each other’s guts, or that you kind of want to fuck him. Rating: R (For injuries and language) Warnings: Brief description of injuries (compound fracture, not detailed), illness, mention of blood transfusion, Wolffe being a grumpy old man, sexual tension if you squint, SOME angst bc Wolffe is suffering from injuries/a brief infection, the writer doesn't know medical jargon/procedures so that's a warning in itself too Reader is AFAB But pronouns are not used Word Count: 6829 AN: Welp, it's Wolffe Time Babies. When I haven't been working on OC fic planning and Pretending I Do Not See Part7 and 8 of Caf Delivery Service, I've been working on this. The premise of this is just Reader and Wolffe getting to know each other, and I don't know how many parts there will be. Just that this has been a lot of fun so far, so I hope y'all enjoy it too! Part 1 || Part 2 || Part ????

Year Ten, Day 182 after joining the Rebellion

Never a dull moment on base. Most days that just means hearing second-hand reports about the latest attempt to open up trade routes, what squadrons are training up a new recruit, and mourning our losses in whatever ways we can. Some days, that means one unfortunate bastard has to deal with another unfortunate bastard on their worst day. Today, I played both parts. Wolffe went and fucked himself up. Again. I’m glad he’s alive - so I can strangle him when he tries to fuck around and find out again.

“This is ridiculous.”

Eyes lifting from your datapad, you meet the glare aimed at you head-on. It seemed like a lifetime ago that you would have been reduced to a flustered, anxious wreck by that look. But now you could look the man behind the glower in the eye. His deep brown and silver eyed gaze boring holes into your head with equal amounts of fury, and barely batted an eye.

“Yes. You’re right - it is.” Tapping your stylus on the edge of your datapad, you stood, turning to the supply drawers and rummaging through them. “Which is why I’m putting you on medical leave, effective immediately.”

“The hells you are!” 

Before he can so much as push off the bed you're on him, your hands closed around his wrists and pinning his hands to the bed where they gripped the edge. You could feel the strength of his hands, under the weathered skin. Part of you wondered if he wasn’t imagining wrapping those hands around your throat.

Part of you thought you wouldn’t mind if he tried, under more favorable circumstances.

Which made you realize, not for the first time, that this was a huge mess of your own making. And you weren’t sure how you were going to fix it. Or if you could fix it. Because catching feelings when you’re taking part in the Rebellion is ill-advised at bet. But your arrogance that your attraction to the former commander of the 104th Battalion of the GAR wouldn’t run unchecked was the biggest mistake of your thirty-some odd years.

Namely because Wolffe is one of the meanest men you’ve ever met in your life, and his favorite pastime is trying to get a rise out of you.

“Didn’t know you even gave a shit.”

“Don’t start,” you sighed, suppressing the urge to duck your head when you felt heat creeping up from your collarbone to your scalp. Pushing away from the bed, you gestured at his leg, turning before he can see the nerves written on your face. “Your fucking leg’s busted, you nearly bled out on the evac back to base, and you might’ve cracked your prosthetic. Little gods Wolffe, what did you think was going to happen?” While you began to rummage through the drawers at last for the flimsi forms, you huffed, “Bacta patches and painkillers aren’t going to fix this overnight.”

“It’s just a sprain. And my eye is fine.”

Pressing the heels of your hands to the sides of your head, you turned so quickly you nearly gave yourself whiplash. Not that it mattered to you at the moment. You glared at Wolffe . It was the first time you’d ever looked at him like that, with quite so much…venom. Fingers shaking with anger that is almost blinding, you reopened the attachment on your datapad you’d been sent earlier that morning.

“Look,” you seethed, “look, Wolffe.” He barely glanced at it before shoving it back towards you. “No,” you insisted, shoving it in his face. “Look. At. The. X-ray.” Dropping it on his lap when he refused to take it, you stomped over to stand at the foot of his bed so you were in his line of sight. Illustrating with your arms the angle his heg had been bent at before triage got it reset. “Legs are not meant to bend like this!”

“So? Put it in a cast and send me on my way.” He turned his head from you, arms folded across his chest. “I can still fight.”

“You lost nearly two gallons of blood, Wolffe.” You moved to the side of the bed he was pointedly looking at to avoid looking at you. “Look,” shoving up the sleeve of your jacket, you pointed at the bacta patch in the crook of your arm, “I gave you some of my blood, just to make sure you’d make it through the fucking night!” Throwing your hands up in exasperation, you began to pace. “Maker’s left nut, if you can’t take your health seriously, I’m going to need to set you up for a psych eval before we even consider discharging you.”

“That your professional opinion, Doc?”

Ouch. That one stung.

When you joined the Rebellion in your youth a decade ago, you were a fresh college dropout with less than a month until you could have graduated. Until you should have graduated. But the Empire had deemed your entire university as a waste of resources and space, so at least you weren’t the only one. Small comfort though it was.

But when you’d finally decided to do something rather than seething in silence at the Empire, you hadn’t expected the Rebellion to give you the position you currently held. Though you weren’t the only one in this boat - apparently the higher-ups thought ‘degree in blank medical field’ meant you could perform basic first aid. This had more to do with a ‘it’s the effort that counts’ mentality, because the higher-ups were nothing if not smart.

No one would have survived in the Rebellion this long were it not for that.

So the whole ‘Doc’ being your base nickname wasn’t your favorite thing to have happened. Worse things could happen, honestly. And they apparently had, and would continue to.

Case in point - Wolffe.

“More like basic observation and common sense.” You shot him a look over your shoulder. “Two things you clearly lack.”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

“What the hells does that - no. No, y’know what?” 

Attaching the forms to a datapad clip, you shoved both into his hands, turned on your heel, and left. Your shift had ended fifteen minutes ago anyway, and you didn’t bother explaining that to your colleague on the way out.

Let Wolffe catch them up to speed. You needed a nap - or a drink. The order didn’t matter, so long as it alleviated the headache that always built when you spent extended periods of time around Wolffe.

You knew from personal experience that neither one usually works.

---

Year Ten, Day 182 after joining the Rebellion

Has someone been leaking these logs?! I know I’m not the best at encryption and coding, but I know for a fact this datapad never leaves my side. So either someone’s gotten into my shit while I’m asleep, or this whole fucking base is consipring against me. I’ve been assigned Wolffe’s recovery-plan case until further notice. Further notice being when we finally fucking kill each other.

“You expect me to do what now?”

“Look, it’s not the end of the world. I know you two don’t really see eye to eye --” Your supervisor pointedly ignored the snickering from your fellow medics, just long enough to roll her eyes. “But,” her sharp voice silenced the gossipers before they got really started, “you’re the only one Wolffe hasn’t…how do I put this….”

“Made you cry?”

“Treated like shit?”

“Threatened to mutilate?”

“How do all of you know he hasn’t done these things to me?” Silence yet again, punctuated by the occasional quiet, immature laughter. You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I can’t possibly watch him at all hours of the day. I’ll need some help to see other patients--”

“We’ll put someone on night watch, rest assured. But your appointments - barring some sort of emergency - have all been reassigned. And before you refuse -“ your supe held up a finger when you were gearing up to do just that, “- command has said they’ll be glad to send you to Hoth. A new position has opened up—“

“No thanks.” Gritting your teeth, you accepted the data pad handed off to you by her assistant. Staring at the screen but not actually reading it, you sighed, muttering under your breath, “I’ll expect you lot to pitch in for our funeral services.”

“C’mon, Doc.” The colleague you’d handed Wolffe off to that first day gently tapped your arm with the back of their hand. You tried not to rankle as you turned to Limla, who’d been sympathetic to the issue you had with Wolffe from the get-go. “It won’t be bad. You can always decompress in my quarters.” They grinned broadly, all teeth and glittering black eyes, “Gods know I love hearing you rant about the old geezer.”

“Swear,” you groaned, “you lot just live for this shit, don’t you?”

“Yes!”

“Signal’s crap on base, so I can’t watch anything good on the HoloNet.”

“Oh, these two are way more interesting than any of your bullshit HoloDramas.”

“Children.” After inputting your signature into the datapad, you stood, bracing yourself for what was going to be a very very long couple of months. “I’m working with a bunch of children.”

---

Day Three of Wolffe Observation

I’m going to lose my mind. Or maybe I already have. Really I only have to be there - as in physically - for seven hours out of the day, then I can try to pick up rotations from someone else. Scanners and meds will do all the hard work for me. Really I’m just there to make sure Wolffe doesn’t try to jump out of bed. Which he’s already done - multiple times. But every time - every. fucking. time. - Wolffe finds something else to give me shit about. It’s no different than all the other times he’s shown up. But today - oooh, today. Today I nearly reached my breaking point, and I know the bastard could see it. But gods, I would sooner pull a breaching newborn Bantha calf with my bare hands (again) from its screaming Bantha mother before I give Wolffe the satisfaction. I will not be the first one to break.

The day really had started off well.

Sure, you woke up knowing you had to endure Wolffe’s company for another shift. And of course, anyone who knew anything about the dynamic between the two of you gave you shit about it. This seemed to be everyone’s new favorite daily pastime. And really, you didn’t care - maybe they knew about the stupid crush, maybe they didn’t. You were just here to do your job. To help further the effort to take out the Empire.

Too bad Wolffe’s favorite pastime was trying to make your job difficult. You could see it building in his eyes the second you walked in, his gaze focused on your thermos. Folding his arms across his chest, he huffs,

“Where’s my caf?”

“Fine morning to you, too.” You gave him a deadpan stare before you began checking his vitals. “And you’ll get your damn caf when you’re out of that bed.”

“In that case --”

“Stop.” 

You’d kept yourself close to the bed, close enough that you didn’t even have to look up from your datapad to plant your palm on his chest and hold him there. This was surprisingly difficult, and even with the bloodloss and the fractured leg, you think he could have thrown you like a ragdoll if he really wanted to.

Huh. That’s an interesting mental image.

“Sit,” you gave him a hard shove, “down.” 

Wolffe’s eyes crackled with fury for a few seconds before he pushed back, and you wondered if he was going to start something. It wasn't the first time he’d gotten that fed up with having to follow someone else’s orders. But the fire cooled some, still burning in his mismatched gaze. You felt your pulse skyrocket, and took a step back. Or you tried to.

The moment he felt you try to take your hand off of him, Wolffe’s fingers closed around your wrist, holding you there.

“Poor Doc,” he sneered, nothing but mockery in his tone as his thumb stroked across your pulse. You thought it might have been absent-minded on his part but you couldn’t be sure. It would be just your luck if he was trying to see what unsettles you. “You lose a bet and get stuck watching me another day?”

“No,” you answerdc, twisting your hand away, and Wolffe smirked. Panic flared through you when you heard your own words - you sounded like a petulant teenager, trying to deflect blame or deny...something. Time to do damage control.  “I don’t have any choice in being here today. There are a hundred other things I could be doing, but,” you gestured at him on the bed, “somebody’s sense of self preservation in this room is sorely lacking.” 

He shut down after that, like you were expecting him to, but something seemed different. Or maybe you’re just noticing something for the first time. 

Who knows. Who cares? You certainly don’t. You really don’t, especially not when you saw what you thought might be hurt in his expression before he buried it under a thunderous scowl.

And so it went. Wolffe barely spoke to you through the rest of your shift. That suited you just fine. Except something felt off. You couldn’t shake it. There was something about what you saw - what you think you saw - that made your stomach tie itself in never ending knots the entire time. But you couldn’t bring yourself to analyze it, because this was Wolffe. 

Wolffe, who only cares about his brother, fighting the good fight in this Rebellion, and not at all what the rest of the base thinks about him.

Certainly not about your opinion of him. You’d given up on that pipe dream only a week after he’d been stationed at this base. When he’d made it abundantly clear that you didn’t fit the bill of a medic that should be caring for him. And you were over that - really. It was just the amount of times you’d been assigned to check him over and patch him up that made this crush persist. 

So it could only be that making you worry that you’d struck a nerve. An old wound that refused to heal.

An alarm pinged on your datapad, drawing your attention to it. You frowned as you read and reread the words on the screen in front of you. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Wolffe glance your way, but you didn’t look over. When you finally turned to him, he lay back in the bed, and for a moment you were taken aback by the sight in front of you.

Wolffe is a good-looking man, even in his advanced age. It’s something he carried well, and obviously. Not so much arrogance as it was confidence, awareness that yes, he does know he’s handsome despite what the war and rapid aging had done to his body. You’ve seen it. How could you not? Even when resting it showed, and you --

You took a moment to admire.

It was rare that you got to just look at him like this. Usually you have to do this at a distance, out of fear he’d figure you out somehow. So you drank it all in: the smooth line of his jaw, how proud his profile is, the graying of his dark hair around his temples. The lines on his forehead and under his eyes are pronounced from years of glaring, which is kind of funny to think about. It’s also a little sad. At first you weren’t a fan of the mustache, but it’s grown on you. Your eyes are slowly trailing down his torso, the healthy amount of give you can see on his stomach and chest, when he shifts with an uncomfortable groan.

In an instant, your professional walls were back up, and you were on your feet and at his side in record time.

“What’s wrong?”

“Stop hovering,” he tried to shoo you away, but you immediately spotted the tremor in his hands when he waved one at you. Fisting the thin sheets over him, Wolffe twisted uncomfortably. “Just - dammit, why didn’t you bring me any fucking caf?!” His cybernetic eye was squeezed shut when he glared at you, and you didn’t know how you failed to notice the sweat beading on his skin. “Wouldn’t have this blasted headache if you’d just brought me some.”

“Wolffe,” you said slowly, reaching out to him. You decided he let you place a hand on his forehead - or else the fever you can feel was making him delirious. So that’s what the datapad had picked up. You hadn’t believed it at first - the reading of his temperature was far too low. “What did you do?”

“Nothin’.”

“Wolffe,” you dragged your hand down to the side of his neck, trying to bite back your hiss of alarm. He was burning under your palm. “I need you to tell me what you did. If you’re messing with this equipment, we’ll both be in it deep. It could get other people hurt.”

He growled rough in the back of his throat, “Osik - fine.” Batting your hand away, he gestured at the holoscreen that had been tracking his vitals from day one. You squinted at it, bringing it down on the articulated neck as you tapped at the screen. “I might’ve reprogrammed it a little. Damn thing kept blaring all night - your replacement was too busy flirting with the nurse to do anything about it.” Your hands tightened on the screen as you furiously tapped open the troubleshooter - you were going to have Vrakka’s head for his negligence. “S’fine, Doc, I’ll be --”

“It is not fine,” you snapped, wheeling around to stare him down. “Do you realize what else could have gone wrong? You could have died and we wouldn’t have known what the hell happened --”

“Wouldn’t that be convenient?” Wolffe huffed, not having the strength to raise his voice apparently but the ability to throw another barb at you. “Thought you’d be happier at the prospect.”

For what seems like a lifetime, you just stared at him. Left reeling from the words he’d just flung at you, reeling from the thought that he thought you’d be glad he was dead. It took you until then to realize that’s exactly how you’d been acting. The way you kept trying to rush through getting him fixed up, the clipped words, the reprimands. How you always tried to avoid him outside of the medcenter, and when you did run into him, you always made excuses to get away from him.

Gods, you really shit the bed with this one, huh?

…also why were your eyes burning?

“Mesh’la?” The word didn’t mean anything to you, but it pulled you right back into the moment. Something about the way he said it. You blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall. His eye widened slightly, a moment of clarity as he shuffled in the bed so he was facing you. He can see it. “Are you --”

“Vrakka!” Your shout cracked viciously in the relative quiet of the medcenter, and you stormed out of the room after seeing him try to rush past the doorway. By the time you caught up with him, you were out of breath, and when you grabbed his sleeve you felt him wince. “Vrakka, what the hell were you thinking?!”

“I-I’m sorry Doc, he’s just an asshole and I didn’t --”

“So you abandoned your post to try and get your dick wet?! You left a patient alone in his room long enough to give him the opportunity to hack the vitals tracker?!” Dragging him back into Wolffe’s room, you jabbed a finger at the readout datapad. You hissed between grit teeth, “Fix. This. And make sure no one has the clearances to tamper with it again.” 

Shaking your head while turning your back to the bed (and Wolffe), you rubbed at your eyes with the back of your hand. You could feel Wolffe’s eyes on your back. This was - it was such a goddamn mess. You’d let your feelings get the better of you in regards to him. If you had only been more professional from the get go, if you’d only been nicer to him --

But it’s useless to stay in the past. You knew that.

“I’ll get you on some antibiotics.” You looked at him over your shoulder, trying to keep your expression neutral. “But you have to tell us if something feels even a little bit wrong. I don’t care what you think you know about me, but you are my patient.” Arms folded across your chest when you faced him, you set your chin again, “And nobody is dying on my watch.”

You didn’t let him get another word in before you marched out of the room. Limle would hopefully still be up, and even if they weren’t, they had a bottle of whiskey with your name in it.

---

Day Twenty of Wolf(fe) Watching

So things are….different. Have been since Wolffe clued me in that he could remotely hack the damn medscanner’s readouts. It’s quieter now, and I don’t know if I love it or hate it. I’m leaning more towards the latter - I think I almost miss squabbling with him. It’s nice not to have the anxiety of wondering when he’s going to say something shitty. …well alright, he still says shitty things, but he’s not going for the jugular anymore. With me at least.

Well. One thing could be said about your shifts watching Wolffe.

It gave you plenty of time to catch up on paperwork. In fact, you were way ahead on your paperwork. To the point that you didn’t have anything to do besides read.

And, on rare occasions, talk with Wolffe. Which was becoming more frequent as you ran out of books to read.

Instead of working a dayshift on that day, you ended up switching with Vrakka’s ‘friend,’ Yol - how Vrakka landed a date with him, you’d never know. He was booksmart where Vrakka was streetsmart. Yol probably got through to Vrakka about his fuck up more than you did, his own sense of responsibility something he couldn’t just ignore at the drop of a hat. Definitely seemed to be a case of opposites attracting. He’d been reluctant to take the shift until you told him it would open up a night off with Vrakka. After blustering his way through a flimsy denial, he’d accepted, before excusing himself to go blush somewhere else.

Cute. It was cute.

What wasn’t cute was hearing raised voices from the end of the hallway on your way to the medcenter. Hastening your step, you rushed to the doors, your jaw nearly unhinging when you took in the scene in front of you.

You’d come to expect anything, honestly. Especially after hearing about the Death Star being blown to pieces. But this was surprising, alarming, concerning. Wolffe was up and out of bed, half leaning and pushing on the edge of it as he tried to get in Yol’s space. This was a far cry from the way he’d looked a few weeks ago, and is an abrupt reminder of why you’ve come to admire him so much. In Wolffe is a wildfire that answers to no one, not even nature itself when there’s nothing left to burn.

And you got to witness the Commander return to his old ways, which will no doubt leave scars in his wake.

“Of all the bullshit you lot have subjected me to, I have never been treated so unprofessionally. D’you treat all of your patients like this?!”

“I-I, no, no I don’t — please sir, you need to calm down -”

“Calm down? You’re gonna tell me to calm down, after nearly dumping me outta bed just to change the bloody sheets?! Now I’m up, against Doc’s orders, and you’re going to tell me to - oh.” Wolffe glanced away from you almost as soon as his gaze flicked over to you leaning against the doorway. “Hey, Doc. Didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah, well, I heard you. Whole base did.” You lifted an eyebrow at Yol. “Could changing his sheets not wait until I got here?”

“Supe came by saying the laundry needed to be sent on the hour.”

“Well, it’s thirty minutes til, so - oh. Oh, I see.” Giving Yol a knowing look that makes him squirm, you turned to Wolffe, nodding towards the chairs lining the wall. “Here,” you offered him your shoulders, sliding your arm around his back. Wolffe hesitated for a moment before he leaned into you. You barely managed to suppress a shiver when you felt his fingers digging slightly into the small of your back. It was probably just the easiest place for him to put his hand, you reasoned. As you gently guided him to one of the chairs, you dropped your voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “He’s got a date.”

“So that gives him a free pass to manhandle me?” Wolffe sniffed imperiously, arms folded across his chest once he settled into the chair. You gently lifted his leg to prop it on the hover chair Yol pushed your way, rolling your eyes at the man’s unimpressed glower. “And that’s also why you’re stuck pulling the all-nighter?”

“Yup.” Propping your hip against the wall, you watched Yol while he ripped the fitted sheet off the bed. “To both.”

“You’re a paragon of patient care, Doc.” 

Anyone within earshot can hear the roll of Wolffe’s eyes in his voice, and you couldn’t help yourself. Hiding it behind your hand didn’t do much to muffle your laughter. It was proven to be absolutely pointless when you glanced over to see the glare Wolffe aimed your way.

“Okay, alright uh,” Yol bustled past the two of you to shove the old bedding into the chute in the wall. “Thanks Doc, I’ll see you--”

“Aren’t we forgetting someone?” 

You lifted your eyebrows at Yol when he froze halfway through the door, his eyes frantically searching the room before they landed on Wolffe. There was a moment where he almost seemed like he was going to just leave you to deal with him by yourself. You’re almost certain he’d made his mind up before he rushed past you, hauling Wolffe up and out of the chair.

“You sure drive a hard bargain, Doc,” Yol grumbled unhappily as you took up Wolffe’s other side. The two of you carefully returned the equally unhappy older man into the bed, who huffed and puffed and growled throughout the whole affair. Once he’d settled in, Yol turns to you, hands outspread in supplication, “Now can I go?”

“‘Course,” you chirped, booting up your datapad as you gave him a sidelong glance. “Say hi to Vrakka for me.”

“OkaybyeDoc.”

Wolffe only waited until Yol was out of the room before he scoffed, “That irresponsible boy?”

“Eh,” you shrugged, pulling up a chair to stretch your legs out in front of you. “There’s somebody for everybody.”

“Oh, and you’re what, some kind of relationship expert?” Lifting your eyes to him, you blinked in confusion.

“That’s what I went to school for.”

“...what?”

“Oh, I assumed - wait, why do you call me Doc? I thought you were in on the joke?”

“Joke? What joke?” Wolffe glanced around the room in bewilderment. “You work in the medcenter, why would calling you ‘Doc’ be a joke?!”

“It’s because I’m not a medical professional. I’m just - provisional.” You shrugged when the confusion in his expression only increased. “Why do you think it was so easy for them to put me on rotations to keep an eye on you? I’m not exactly experienced in actual medical practice - just basic first-aid.” Sniffing imperiously, you returned your attention to your datapad. “Though with your help, I’m beginning to learn more advanced practices.”

“Glad to be of service,” Wolffe chuckled, and the room went silent for a while as you went through your inbox. It was a useless effort - no one had requested an appointment with you in a week. Suppressing a frustrated sigh, you decided to go through your personal library when Wolffe cleared his throat. “Does it bother you?”

“Hm?” Lifting your eyebrows, you stared at him blankly for a moment. Wolffe gave you an exasperated look after a few beats and you perked up. “Oh. Oh! I mean, a little bit? Not anymore really. Limle is the only person who means it in a ‘term of endearment’ sort of way.”

“So they all just call you that - and they don’t bother asking if that’s what you want?” Wolffe seemed angrier than he was at Yol before, and you tilted your head at him. He huffed, arms crossed over his broad chest, “Just don’t see how anyone could take that kind of treatment lying down.”

“I’m not exactly the kind of person to rock the boat just to save face,” you admitted.

“I noticed.” That was - surprising. It must have shown  in your expression, because Wolffe elaborated, “You said it yourself: you don’t have a choice in being here, even if you can’t stand being around me. Who would put up with that if they weren’t a pushover?”

“Oh, so you’ve got me all figured out, hm?”

“No.” Wolffe studied you closely, and you felt your stomach do a funny little flip. No one had ever looked at you like that. It was something you couldn’t put your finger on, which was exciting and terrifying in its own right. “Not yet, at least.”

“Oh.” You honestly didn’t know what else to say to that, so for the rest of your shift, the two of you sat in almost complete silence.

---

Day Forty-Six of Wolffe-Sitting

Yol and Vrakka are finally a thing. Openly, at any rate. Which is honestly a huge fucking relief. Watching those two dance around each other (mostly on Yol’s part) was enough to make me age two years every time they tried to deny it all. Wolffe and I made a bet that they would get caught before they were open about it. I lost, and today he finally decided to make me pay up. This man is out to get me, I swear.

“I’m telling you,” you sighed miserably, “you might as well try to reverse gravity with your mind. And last I checked, no one in this room is Force sensitive.”

Wolffe waved you off before he went back to shuffling the deck, “Anyone can learn to play Sabacc, and you lost, fair and square.” He smirked at you - actually smirked, which was a rare sight in itself. It was also distracting. “Better get used to that, mesh’la.”

“What does that mean anyway? ‘Mez-luh.’” You squinted at him when he chuckled at your attempt at pronunciation. “Is it an insult or something?”

“Depends on what you’d find insulting,” he said with a shrug, chuckling at your frustrated expression. He considered you for a moment, eyes narrowed while the cards smacking together became the only sound filling the silence. “If you can beat me five times after I finish teaching you the basics, I might consider telling you.”

“Stubborn old man.”

“Stubborn old man who’s going to wipe the floor with you by the time your shift is up.” The way he grinned at you is infectious. It was also terrifying - all teeth and glowing confidence. “Now pay attention,” he tapped the deck twice with his knuckles, “because I don’t like to repeat myself.”

“Wait,” you looked at him, head tilted to one side, “what do you get if you win?”

“The satisfaction of putting you in your place.” 

…oh. Oh your mind went to some terrible places with that statement. And he did absolutely nothing to clarify, despite your obvious discomfort.

This was going to be a long shift.

* * *

“I’ve changed my mind.”

It took you a while to look up at him. After the last actual game, you sat with your elbows propped on your thighs, fingers rubbing circles in your throbbing temples while you stared at the floor. Just when you thought you understood the rules, Wolffe would you. Easily. When you looked at him, it was to glare at him, the smug smirk that he wasn’t even bothering to hide.

“How so?” you asked, shoving your last hand at him so he could shuffle again. 

For a moment you found yourself lost in watching his hands, the ease with which he went through the motions. It was practiced, automatic - you are enraptured by it. His amused chuckle pulled you out of your stupor.

“You need a little incentive,” he announced, “and I need things to be a little more interesting. Otherwise I’m going to fall asleep by the next hand.”

“Sorry I’m not great at a game I’ve never played until today,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “And what do you mean by ‘incentive?’ You being able to rub it in my face seems like enough.”

“Apparently not.” He knocked on the deck again - a personal ritual, you mused. “I’ll leave it up to you, since you’re so miserable being forced to play the game. Seems only fair.”

“Why do I get the feeling this is going to be decidedly unfair?”

“Because you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.” Ah - you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from beaming at his praise. “So, your choice: I can either take your credits, or information.”

Turning your head so you could give him a sidelong squint, you murmured, “What kind of information?”

“Nothing too damning,” Wolffe shrugged, entirely too casual to put any of your immediate concerns at ease. “And if it’s something you’re too uncomfortable to share, I’ll think of something else.”

“So twenty questions, but I have to wait until you beat me at a hand of Sabacc each time? The odds don’t really seem stacked in my favor.”

“Tell you what,” he offered, dealing out the first hand, “if you can beat me, you get to ask a question. Same rule as when we started though: five hands.” He smirked again, and you felt a thrill of excitement and frustration in equal measure. “Maybe you’ll get there - in the next month.”

“Bring it on, old man.”

He beat you in record time for the first question, and you braced yourself. But no amount of mental gymnastics could prepare you for just how ruthless Wolffe can be when he put his mind to it.

“What was the breaking point that made you join the Rebellion?” Wolffe held up a hand the moment you took a breath to give your answer. “And don’t give me the whole ‘it was the right thing to do, I wanted to be a hero’ bullshit.” It was brief, but you saw it: a flash of pain in his expression, older than the Rebellion itself. You recognize you saw it only because he let you. “People aren’t heroes - legends derived from them are.”

“Wow,” you blinked owlishly, “okay. I guess…” Your head dropped with a groan when the answer came to you, because it immediately felt childish and self-centered. “Spite.”

“‘Spite?’” Wolffe sounded about as incredulous as you’d assumed he would. “That is not at all what I was expecting from you.”

“Have you met me?” With a playful scoff, you gave your hand back to him, considering your next words while you watched him shuffle the deck again. “Half my personality is spite, or fueled by it.”

“Alright, point taken.” He rolled his eyes at you, dealing out the next hand in record time. And then beating you in record time. “Why join the Rebellion out of spite?”

“The Empire took something from me that I worked very hard for.” Your eyes drifted down as guilt twisted at your insides. “Something that seems childish looking back on it.”

“What was it?”

“My degree.” He balked at that, his brow furrowing together, and you held up a hand. “Let me explain - I was months away from graduating. It was guaranteed that I would graduate, and then the Empire just decided that the resources and funding for the university were wasted, and reallocated them to fund weapon manufacturing.” Shifting in your seat, you glanced away from him. “Told you it seems childish.”

“You’re right.” His voice is colder than it had been, and that cut you deep. “It is childish.” That twisted the knife, and you let your head fall slightly. Shame filled you, making your eyes burn. If you almost cry in front of Wolffe again, you’d never be able to face him. But then you heard him knock on the deck again, “But you stayed.”

“I did.” You lifted your head, risking a glance in his direction. He watches you closely, carefully - your next words would decide the trajectory of the rest of this strange conversational set up. “Because it was the right thing to do. For me, anyway.”

He beat you again, in silent contemplation this time. Then,

“Right for you how?”

“I joined the Rebellion to get back at the Empire.” You shrugged, “If I could land at least one blow against them, it would all feel worth it. But then - well. I’ve never even held a blaster. Can’t fly. But I knew basic first-aid, and I know how to figure out what makes people tick, so,” you gestured to the room around you, “here I am.”

You lost again.

“Do you regret it? Staying, I mean.”

“No.” The answer came quickly, no knee-jerk compulsion to try to excuse your reasoning or logic. “Not at all. This isn’t anything close to what everyone else has to go through, I know that.” You glanced meaningfully at his leg, and couldn’t help but chuckle when he huffed. “But…it’s where I’m meant to be.” Pushing your hand back towards him, you stared at a nearby wall, your gut still roiling with guilt and nerves. “At least here, I can be a little useful.”

The warmth of his hand covered yours before you can pull away, and your head snapped round to stare at him. You immediately let your eyes fall to focus on his hand, immediately taken aback by the intensity of his stare. But Wolffe had other plans.

Before you could even mourn the loss of his hand on yours, he stretched his arm out and grabbed you by the chin between a forefinger and thumb. Then he tilted your head back up, so you had to look at him head-on. None of the intensity left his gaze as he studied your features, and you watched as it softened around the edges some. His nostrils flared as he let out a long breath, and you swear his thumb twitches like he was about to caress your skin.

But that was just wishful thinking on your part, spurred on by the disappointment you can’t deny when he let his hand fall away.

“Each individual in this counts towards a future that’s made better through our efforts. But without you - “ Wolffe paused for a moment, teeth clicking when he closed his mouth. “Well, without you, I’d probably be dead. Small consolation that is --”

“It’s not small,” you protested quickly. Maybe a little too quickly, if Wolffe lifting an eyebrow at you in question was any indication. “You said it yourself - every individual counts.”

Wolffe groaned, rolling his eyes at you before you were hit with the full force of an actual smile from him, “You remind me of my brother - always throwing my own words back at me when I apparently need it.”

“Rex?” He nodded, and you hummed thoughtfully. “Smart man.”

“Don’t let him catch you saying that,” Wolffe groused, shuffling the deck again. “Especially in this context - I’ll never hear the end of it.”

He dealt another hand out and -

Well…you won.

“Oh?” Both of you stared in silent disbelief at your hand - two sets of five from each stave. As your victory began to sink in you started to laugh, grinning from ear to ear as you watched Wolffe’s expression turn from shock to begrudging acceptance. “Ooh, how the turns have tabled.”

“‘Course you would win with a Squadron,” he grumbled, running both hands down his face. “Alright,” Wolffe groaned behind his palms, “go on.”

“Why did you join?” 

It was the first question that came to mind. There are others you would rather have asked, questions he’d scoff at or tease you about. But that was the one you grabbed hold of first. It felt…important. More so when he slowly lowered his hands, clear suspicion in his gaze and under that, something else. Something that made you question if this would go sour.

“To repay a debt.”

That’s all you got out of him - and you were fine with that.

-----

Taglist: @rain-on-kamino, @deewithani, @seeking-kharis, @lackofhonor, @ttzamara

I know some of you wanted to be just on the Caf Delivery Service tag so if you want me to remove you from this tag, LMK! If you want me to add you to the taglist for this series also lmk in the replies or in a DM!

#Commander Wolffe x Reader #Rebels!Wolffe x Reader #Wolffe x Reader #Clone Commander x Reader #ouch.txt #fluff.txt #a little bit of boohoobitch.txt #idk if my characterization of Wolffe is that great but I'm having a good time so #any input however is always welcome

[rottmntquotes]

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Ignore the gentle pitter-patter of Mikey's little feet here and the not-so-subtle drag of Raph's tail there. Eyes closed at all times, scales down, tail still; wait… wait…

Now.

Leo leapt up from his place on the training room floor, just narrowly dodging his youngest brother's attempt at a sneak attack. He landed on his feet almost silently with his beak curled back to express his brief pain. He couldn't do this exercise for too much longer - his legs were bound to give out on him the longer his brothers continued to pounce.

Speaking of.

"THINK FAST!" Raph shouted, launching forward with a large smile.

Letting out a loud groan, Leo ran towards Raph, preparing to either land a hit or take a pulled one. A good explanation as to why he let out a yelp of surprise when Raph rammed into him like a bull.

"OW! RAPH, WHAT THE HELL?!" Leo hissed, struggling to squirm out from under Raph's body. "I thought you were gonna pull that punch!"

"Which is exactly why I didn't!" Raph triumphantly replied. His tail thumped on the floor as a sign of his happiness, the smile on his face ever bright even as he stood to face a pissed off little brother. "You gotta remember that our enemies aren't gonna pull their punches on ya just because you're-"

"Weak?" Leo scoffed, making no comment on how that one word erased Raph's smile completely. "Yeah, I know that, Raph! I know that villains aren't gonna just take it easy on me because I have a fracture on my plastron or a cracked carapace! If anything, they'll take advantage of it!"

"EXACTLY!"

"Guys, please! Stop fighting!" Mikey cried, reminding his brothers of his presence. The tears in his eyes created a pool of guilt that settled in Leo's gut, one that drowned him in his thoughts that he believed he'd gotten over weeks ago.

Everything was his fault. The invasion, the injuries, the trauma; all of it. Had he just listened to his brothers, not been all of the things Casey- his own son -had called him, he wouldn't have to listen to this rant. Wouldn't have to see Mikey cry every time a beautiful drawing was destroyed, wouldn't have to hear Donnie groan in pain when he moved in certain ways that pulled the healing gashes on his shell, wouldn't be afraid to think that Raph would look at him with nothing but disappointment and frustration whenever he made a poor decision in battle.

A heavy sigh escaped through Leo's lips as he took a moment to bring himself back down to earth. It wasn't doing anyone any good to argue, and it sure as hell wasn't doing anyone any good to make Mikey cry. Once he was completely calm, Leo looked back up at Raph, fingers just barely fluttering and giving away his stifled annoyance.

"I just wanted some time to myself." Leo slowly started. "I don't see why me sitting with my eyes closed was taken as an invitation for you to-"

"Boys! We've got trouble!" April shouted as she raced into the training room. "Hypno and Warren Stone are trying to steal another ancient artifact from- HEY!"

Leo didn't give April the satisfaction of receiving an apology, as his brain had become focused on one thing and one thing only.

Find the bastards that helped me start this mess.

"LEO! WAIT ON YOUR TEAM!" Raph shouted, groaning as his order was promptly and easily ignored.

"As per the usual, he runs off to save the day on his own." Donnie snarkily commented, a look of utter annoyance on his face as the group entered the Turtle Tank.

As they left the garage, there was the collective feeling that something was missing. Though they looked around, no one could find any physical items missing, and no one remembered leaving their weapons at the lair.

THUMP! THUMP!

"Ah, that's what we were forgetting." Mikey chimed, watching with a smile as Casey Jr. and Cassandra Jones climbed into the tank through the roof. "Hey there Cassie and Casey!"

"Hey Uncle Mikey!" Casey replied, seeming disturbingly excited to join a potentially dangerous situation. He looked around intently, soon frowning worriedly. "Where's dad?"

"Probably off being an idiot." Cassandra muttered as she looked through the tank's telescope.

"Mom!" Casey huffed, casting a brief glance of frustration towards his mother.

"Well, your dad may have kinda sorta… ran off to fight the villains before us." Mikey nervously giggled.

"Called it!" Cassandra shouted, not noticing Raph's slight leap of surprise.

Casey sighed, biting his bottom lip worriedly. There was no telling what Leo could get himself or others into, so the boy could only hope that the family got to the scene before things got too out of hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They didn't get there before things got too out of hand.

"THE LEADER IS SUPPOSED TO WORK WITH HIS TEAM! AND THIS IS EXACTLY WHY THAT IS!"

"I HAD IT HANDLED, RAPH!"

"YOU WERE TRAPPED UNDER A CAR!"

Had there been enough time, one of said teammates would stop and take time to yell at Raph and Leo for wasting their breath on arguing in the middle of a fight. Sure, what Leo did was reckless, irresponsible, and even dangerous, but that didn't need to be brought up now. Not when one and a sixteenth villains were currently beating the group's asses into the ground.

"How are they beating us?! We stopped an alien invasion for hell's sake!" April scoffed.

"It likely has something to do with the artifact!" Donnie replied. "I'll use my goggles to look for any mystic energy! Casey or Cassandra; cover me!"

"On it!" Casey eagerly shouted, running towards Donnie and just narrowly dodging a flying dagger. "Whoa! Where'd you pull that from?"

"Oh, would you really like to know?" Hypno asked, moving swiftly to pull a rabbit out of his hat as well.

"Oh, my God! Dad, he's a wizard!" Casey shouted, swinging his hockey stick frantically. "Do a sword next!"

"Yeah, you really are your father's son…" Donnie muttered. Taking the moment to pull his goggles down and search for the artifact. "Come on… where are you?"

"Looking for something?" A voice asked, spooking Donnie long enough to draw his attention away from the fight.

"I'll do you one better than a sword!" Hypno chimed, pulling a sledgehammer out from his hat. "THINK FAST!"

Casey yelped and ducked, an action that Hypno hoped for as he swung and made contact directly with the side of Donnie's head.

"UNCLE DONNIE!" Casey screamed, drawing everyone's attention towards him.

The sight at his feet was horrific, blood pooling out of every orifice it could, a dent that was a sure sign of how much strength Hypno put into his swing, an eye that just barely popped out of its socket, and teeth that pressed down to bite off the tip of Donatello's tongue. By all accounts, the softshell should be dead, killed by such force, yet there was a wheezing gasp that told Casey otherwise. A rise and fall of Donnie's chest that said 'I AM alive, I AM here, and I. AM. IN. PAIN.'

"DAAAAAAAAAAAD!" Another agonizing cry came from Casey, echoing through the eerily empty streets and breaking Leo out of his stupor.

"Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit!" Leo gasped, racing over to his boy and brother and trying not to gag at the sight. "No… not you, Dee. Not you, it should've been me…"

"Why don't we make it both?" Hypno darkly chuckled, raising his sledgehammer up over his head. The look of desire for blood made something akin to both terror and fury run down Leo's back, and he hissed like a wild animal before pouncing.

Loud screeching accompanied Leo's next actions; claws and teeth tore into whatever flesh they could, working hard and fast as the Slider received nothing but amused laughter.

"LET'S SEE HOW FUCKING AMUSED YOU ARE WHEN YOU'RE DEAD!" Leo roared, digging his teeth and claws deeper and deeper, growling louder and louder the more Hypno laughed.

Fuck, he wanted to stop that disgusting laugh.

"WHY WON'T YOU DIE?!" Leo screamed, stopping for a moment and gasping at the realization that Hypno's body was regenerating itself the moment it was able to. "No…"

"Yes!" Hypno cackled, throwing Leo back and using a card to- somehow -make himself disappear.

"Leo!" Mikey called, giving Leo no time to wallow in self hate or plan his revenge. "What do we do?!"

Leo took a deep breath, looking down at Donnie and keeping his focus on Donnie alone. He couldn't bear the terror on Casey's face, the fury on Cassandra's, the horror on Mikey's, the despair on April's…

Or what he was absolutely sure was hatred on Raph's.

"Okay, here's what I need everyone to do…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ride back to the lair was a less than pleasant one. The moment Donnie had been put together enough to be moved into the tank, he was cautiously transported onto a specially built cot. After that, no one seemed to want to talk to anyone.

Save for Casey, who only wanted to talk to his dad.

"I didn't mean to get him hurt, Otōsan." Casey whimpered, seemingly terrified to make eye contact with Leo.

The statement honestly spooked Leo. Not only because the tank had been silent at the time, but also because Casey rarely ever used Japanese. He was just being taught by Splinter, and didn't seem to take to it as much as he did to everything battle related.

"It's okay, Casey. You didn't mean to." Leo assured. "You made a mistake. We all do."

"But look at what my mistake did!" Casey sobbed. "Uncle Donnie could… he might… and it's all my fault!"

Leo sighed, pulling Casey into a tight hug. "Your uncle is going to be fine. You know how I know?"

Casey sniffled, looking to Leo with teary eyes.

"I know because he's one of us. A Hamato-O'neil-Jones. And we're the most stubborn creatures on earth!" Leo cheered, smiling with relief as Casey laughed, albeit briefly. "I bet my right arm that Donnie will be okay. Forehead and all."

"Thanks dad."

"Anytime, son."

~~~~~

The moment they got home, the first place everyone went was the med bay, where Leo hissed and snapped at everyone but Casey, who was the only other one with medical knowledge and training. The two worked for hours on Donnie, doing their best to keep their tears from blurring their vision or falling onto Donnie's injuries.

"Is this really all we can do?" Casey nervously asked as the duo finished cleaning their operating table.

"You don't have to stop at surgery." Leo replied with a well-practiced false smile. "You can come visit your uncle as often as you'd like. Read books to him, tell him about your day, talk about what's going on in school - stuff that'll keep him happy."

"Well, that means that you and Uncle Raph can't argue." Casey replied. "It annoys everyone when you both get in your 'moods'."

"Really, now? Did Donnie teach you to talk like that?" Leo asked.

"No… yeah." Casey replied.

Leo sighed, shaking his head slightly and tapping his claws against his thighs just as slightly. "I'm not equipped for this."

Casey opened his mouth to respond, though no words were found as he attempted to reassure Leo. This wasn't his area of expertise, and he knew the most efficient thing he could do right now was take Leo's attention away from the current frustration.

"I've only seen you get like that one other time."

The comment was enough to make Leo turn and look at Casey with interest, and it took everything in the boy to keep from outwardly celebrating.

"It was before I was sent back; I was five, maybe six years old, and all I was trying to do was ask you a question." Casey grimaced at the memory, a flash of red making him briefly cringe. "Granted, I should have known better than to interrupt a meeting, especially one about invading a Kraang base, but I was just… so excited to get your opinion on an idea I had.

"No one else seemed to mind me rushing through the crowd to get to you. Even if I did step on a few toes by accident. All I could think about was how happy you would be… until one of your best soldiers pushed me to the side and called me a spoiled brat."

Casey saw how Leo tensed at the mere mention of the incident, fearing that he would cause the Slider to go into some sort of uncontrollable rage. It was a silly fear, but one engraved into Casey's mind ever since that one fateful day, the day he was forcing himself to recall.

"I didn't find the term offensive, didn't even know what it meant, really. I just thought he was pushed over the edge and needed an outlet; everyone did, so no one really took insults to heart in the future. Like normal I just planned to brush it off and go back to running towards you, but that was until I noticed everyone staring at you like you were some terrifying monster.

"Of course, being the stupid kid I was, I told everyone to stop being mean, to stop looking at you that way. I went on a rant about how you weren't going to hurt anyone… until I saw what everyone was afraid of.

"When I looked into your eyes that day, I didn't see the master and father I had come to know and love. I saw… I saw an animal. A monster. There was no color, no joy, no life. I barely had any time to say your name before you had leapt forward, and I believe part of my brain has buried a large part of what happened next, since all I remember afterwards is seeing ten soldiers pulling you away from that man's half eaten corpse."

Leo stayed silent throughout the entire tale, breath heavy and pupils slitting as the seconds passed. All of the boys knew that nothing could stop them from being animals, no matter how much they tried to hide behind their human tendencies. They tried so desperately to keep from giving in to their feral nature, and had one rule, one fucking rule; never draw blood by claw or fang.

"…right dad?"

"What?" Leo swiftly turned to look at Casey with a somewhat fearful expression.

"I was saying that you'd never do something like that again. That you can control those tendencies now. Right?" Casey asked, tilting his head and hoping that the lights in the lab didn't reflect on the tears in his eyes.

They did.

Leo stayed quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time, grinding his teeth before sighing. "I think it's time for you to go home, son. Your mother is likely worried sick about you."

"But-"

"I have everything covered here, Case. I'll be fine, and so will your uncle." Leo calmly stated, pulling Casey into a stiff hug. "Go get some rest. You deserve it."

"But what if I have nightmares?" Casey whimpered, his shoulders beginning to shake as a sob threatened to escape. "Mom doesn't know your special story to chase away nightmares."

"Damn it, how are you so good at guilting me?" Leo groaned, relaxing his grip and feeling himself practically fall apart as Casey burst into tears. "Okay, you can stay."

"In here with you and Uncle Donnie?" Casey requested.

"Don't push it." Leo muttered, sending Casey off to his room. "You know where my extra comfy blanket is!"

The moment Casey was gone, Leo groaned, sitting on a nearby swivel chair and hissing. Now that he was alone in the med bay- meaning next to his twin brother, who had his face wrapped up completely so that it didn't literally fall into a thousand pieces -Leo was forced to go over the day's events by himself.

"How could I let this happen?" Leo whispered, tensing at the sound of creaking behind him. It was a familiar sound, that of someone moving on the med bay cot. "I'm sorry, Dee."

"I know you are." The reply was muffled, stunted even, though there was no hint of anger or disdain present. "Otherwise you wouldn't have broken our rule."

"I didn't mean to!" Leo shouted, turning toward the cot and grunting at the sight of Donnie lying completely still. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, occasionally matching the beeping of his heart monitor. "Ugh… I need sleep."

"You need more than that." Donnie's voice claimed, spooking Leo into looking to his right. "When was the last time you ate anything?"

As if proving the softshell's point, Leo's stomach growled like a ravenous bear.

"Kinda hard to worry about that when I have a team to care for." Leo muttered, looking down for a second and huffing as he looked up to find Donnie gone once more. "Agh, make this stop!"

"Leo?" Mikey asked, drawing his brother out of his loud tirade. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, y-yeah! Yeah, I'm okay. Just… tired." Leo replied. "And… upset. I'm sorry for scaring you. Now and then."

Mikey nodded, keeping a distance between himself and Leo. "I saw Casey heading towards your room. Is he staying the night?"

Leo nodded, huffing quickly. "Call his mother and tell her. I would, but you know she doesn't like me."

"O-okay." Mikey nervously replied. "You'll get some sleep after I do that, right?"

"Sure, sure." Leo curtly responded.

With a frown, Mikey moved to say something else, but stopped upon hearing Raph grumble something nearby. "Fine. Just try not to stay up too late. You deserve rest too."

Leo smiled, chuckling at his baby brother's concern. "Alright, you've tugged my tail. I'll get some sleep."

Mikey beamed at the statement, wagging his tail as he turned and left to call Cassandra. Once Mikey was gone, Leo groaned and ran a hand down his face, pulling his mask down around his neck.

"How do you know if you're a bad leader?" Leo asked after a few seconds of silence. He didn't expect an answer, but by God did he want one. "Because it feels like I'm the biggest damn example of one."

"That seems like more of a Raph question." Came Donnie's reply. The voice that Leo now knew was fake, but was more than ready to pretend was real.

"Yeah, but YOU'RE the one in a coma right now." Leo snapped. "Good leaders don't let their teams fall apart like this. Don't get their kids involved in relationship drama, don't break important rules that KEEP THEIR FAMILIES SAFE!"

Donnie stayed silent, much to Leo's dismay.

"I don't know what to do right now, Dee. I have the flesh of a villain's blood under my claws and between my fangs, and his blood is mixed with yours on my hands, even after they were washed!" Leo buried his head in his hands with a whimper. "My son blames himself for your injuries, his mother hates me, Mikey is scared of me, and Raph is probably trying to come up with some sort of lecture worse than anything he's ever given in his entire life!"

"What am I, chopped liver?" April asked as she sauntered up to Leo. Her brother's hisses were promptly ignored, and she let out a breath of relief as they were replaced with sobs when she hugged Leo. "You have to stop doing this to yourself. It's making you completely unhinged."

"I just wanted to be a decent leader. Someone useful to this team for once." Leo cried. "And what do I get for it but a brother who almost died."

April shushed Leo and sat them both down on the floor, holding him close and encouraging him to listen to her heartbeat until he calmed down. "No one's perfect, Leo. And Donnie could have gotten hurt under anyone's leadership; you gotta remember that."

"I know that, April! I know that it was an unfair fight! I know that Hypno had a stupid advantage! But it's just so hard to accept!" Leo sobbed. "I can't just move on and say that I forgive myself, because I don't, and I'm so scared that I never will!"

April frowned, running her hand along Leo's shell and sighing. "I can't say that you will, hon. All I can say is that we'll have to hope that time will help you heal."

Leo shuddered, snuggling closer to April and opening his mouth to say something more.

"DAD! DAD! DADDY!" Casey shouted, rushing into the med bay and practically tackling both April and Leo onto their backs.

"AGH! CASEY! WE NEED TO BREATHE!" April gasped, waiting for her sort-of-nephew to back up before letting out a loud breath. "What was that about?!"

"I had a nightmare!" Casey replied, hugging Leo with as much force as possible. "We were fighting that villain again, and I was looking for dad to make sure he was okay, but I couldn't find him anywhere!"

"Oh, Case." Leo whispered, wiping a bit of sweat soaked hair out of Casey's face.

"I was so scared that the villain had… that he had…" Casey couldn't finish his sentence, clearly too upset to do so. "Please… don't let him hurt you… please don't go off without us so we can't help you. Not again."

"I won't, Casey. I promise." Leo assured.

"With all your heart?"

"To the moon and back."

Casey smiled and sniffled, nuzzling against Leo's chest with a shuddering breath. "Tell me your story to chase away nightmares?"

Leo nearly burst into tears again then and there. Even as someone a year younger than him, Casey still seemed so innocent. He saw Leo as a hero, someone who could chase away those ugly monsters and fight off the demons that plagued everyone's mind. It was a lot to ask of a teen, but if it made Casey feel safe, then so be it.

"Once upon a time, there was a young boy who was born in a land of peril…"

#RotTMNT #Rise of the TMNT #Fanfic #Oof #It's Been a While #Since I've Written #And Angst at That #I Hope Y'all Like This #My Fingers Hurt

[dreamerstreamer]

Green With Envy

Pairing: Dream / Clay x f!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] In Dream’s opinion, you and Sapnap are getting a bit too close for comfort. Combine that with a war, and it looks like he’s in way over his head.

Warnings: some cursing (because Tommy exists) + tw// injury

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted some dream angst with a fluffy ending! the story takes place during the attack on L’Manberg. love to see that my first dream work is just packed to the brim with tropes. i had a bit of a rough time mapping this one out, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Dream let out a yawn as he walked into the living room, ruffling his hair as he went. “Good morning,” he greeted, collapsing onto the nearest couch.

On the other side of the room, you groaned. “‘Good morning’, my ass,” you muttered. “Mornings suck.”

He let out a small laugh at that, admiring your form sitting across from him. You were easily the biggest anti-morning person he knew. You could probably write a whole essay on why they were just the worst. But right now, in this moment, you looked absolutely adorable curled up in the couch cushions. Your hair was a complete mess, your clothes were askew, and a frown was plastered to your face.

Yet you were still so beautiful.

He wondered how you did it—how you managed to be so effortlessly wonderful in that special way of yours. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he was sure of one thing.

He liked you. A lot.

If only he knew how to tell you.

Sapnap strolled into the room, holding a glass of milk. “Morning, cuties,” he hummed, taking a sip. He glanced down at the grumbling couch lump that was you. “Is [Y/N] being a grump, again?”

Dream nodded, offering him a crooked smile. “You know it.”

For a moment, Sapnap paused. Then a devilish smile crossed his face and he set his glass down on the coffee table. He leapt over the back of the couch, crashing into the space next to you. Leaning over, he wrapped his arm around your smaller figure and pulled you into his chest. 

Dream froze in his spot.

What. The hell.

You let out a yelp at the sudden movement, your frown deepening. “Sapnap,” you said, “what are you—”

“Wakey, wakey!” he cried, his fingers going for your sides in a tickle attack. In an instant, you were howling with laughter, tears springing to your eyes as you kicked your arms and legs. Dream’s throat constricted at the sight, his heart beating faster at the sight of your smile but sinking knowing that he wasn’t the cause of it.

“Snappitus!” you screeched, smacking his head. “Snapmap, stop!” You let out a wheeze. “Oh my god, Sapnap! I’m going to kill y—”

Sapnap finally relented, dropping you back onto the couch cushion with a smile. “That’s the first time I think I’ve seen you smile in the morning, [Y/N].” He jut his thumb into his chest triumphantly. “And it was all thanks to me.”

You heaved, catching your breath before turning to look at him. “Snappitus Nappitus,” you crooned, reaching your hand over towards his face. He looked at you inquisitively. Suddenly, you flicked his forehead, and he fell back with a yelp.

“Dude!” he cried, glaring up at you from where he lay sprawled on the ground. “What the hell was that for?”

You cackled at his reaction, kicking at his armour. “Because you’re an idiot for thinking it was a good idea to do that.”

Sapnap let out a groan of defeat as he asked for you to at least pass him an ice pack for his “grave wound”. On the other side of the room, Dream’s expression was cold. A stone of uneasiness sank to the bottom of his stomach as he stood up, walking out of the living room with a heaviness in his step that he didn’t walk in with.

So, he thought to himself, his gut churning. 

Sapnap, huh?

The sun glared down at the earth from the sky, not a single cloud to be seen. Dream squinted up at it as he surveyed the weather.

The scheduled day to negotiate with L’Manberg over their territory had finally come.

Under any other circumstances, Dream would be having much more fun preparing for the journey, knowing very well that he was about to see some serious destruction. But today, he was in a terrible mood, and for one reason only.

For the past week, you and Sapnap had been spending practically every second together.

When Dream had sent Sapnap to burn down the forest surrounding L’Manberg’s walls, he had invited you to come with him. When Dream had asked you to hunt creepers to retrieve the gunpowder necessary for the TNT, you had brought Sapnap with you.

And he didn’t think it could get any worse, but even now, you were laughing at something Sapnap was saying, your grin shining brighter than the sun hanging in the sky above you.

Dream was tired of it.

“You have the dynamite sticks, right?” he asked, leading his horse away from the house.

George froze, then let out a long whine. “I forgot it in the storage house. Now, I have to go all the way back to get it.”

Despite his terrible mood, Dream let out a chuckle. “You’re so dumb, George,” he said teasingly, sending him a smirk. “How could you forget the most crucial part of the plan?”

George groaned. “I don’t know! I just forgot, okay?”

He waved a hand at him, pulling out his saddle. “Just go and grab some quickly, alright? We’ll wait for you until you get back.”

George nodded, hopping onto his horse. “I’ll be back soon.” With a snap of his reins, he was dashing down the hill toward the storage warehouse. 

The moment he disappeared over the hill, Dream’s smile vanished along with him. In the corner of his eye, he could see Sapnap chasing after you with a stick, his boots in your hand. A twinge of jealousy ran up his spine.

Wait—jealousy? No way. Dream wasn’t jealous, not one bit. 

With a deep sigh, he diverted his attention to attaching the saddle in his hands to his horse. Mere moments after he placed it upon his horse’s back, he heard footsteps approach him. He already knew who it was without having to look up.

“What do you want?” he said coldly, not bothering to look at you as he began clasping the saddle buckles shut. 

You shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Well, um,” you said, “I wanted to come over and say hi—”

“Cool, hi,” Dream said, cutting you off. He turned, looking at you properly now. “You can go, now.”

You looked taken aback by his words before your expression shifted into a frown. “What’s gotten into you, Dream? You’re not acting like yourself.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Oh, am I?” He gestured behind you. “I’m just saying you can leave, now. You did what you came to do, right?”

You were appalled. “Why are you acting like this? I just wanted to hang out with you for a bit before we left.”

Didn’t you get it? He was trying to do you a favour. Before he could stop himself, he snapped, “Why don’t you just hang out with ‘Snappitus Nappitus’?” 

A sinking feeling dug itself into his chest at the pang of hurt that shot across your face. But in an instant, it was gone, your expression hardening. His mouth went dry.

“Fine,” you spat, fixing your eyes on him with a glare. “Maybe I will.”

You turned on your heel, stomping away to the other side of the base, inevitably making your way over to Sapnap to complain. Dream’s eyes trailed after you as you walked off, something stinging behind his eyes.

Why did he say that? He shouldn’t have taken his anger out on anyone, let alone you—the one he cherished most.

He felt sick.

“Dream,” a voice said behind him. “I got the dynamite. Ready to go?”

He turned to see George behind him, seated on his horse with a flint and steel in hand. Taking a deep breath, Dream hoisted himself onto his own horse, picking up the reins with a heavy heart.

“Yeah.”

“Big D! What’s the fuck?!”

Dream grimaced under his mask, the string keeping his patience together wearing thinner by the second. 

He and his SMP had been in L’Manberg for no longer than five minutes, and he already wanted to declare war and call it a day. 

“I’ve already presented you with your ultimatum, Tommy.”

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, and it’s a bad one. ‘Give up your land or we’ll light three sticks of dynamite’,” he mocked. He turned to look at Tubbo with a grin. “Tell me that’s not the worst ultimatum you’ve ever fuckin’ heard, Tubbo.”

Tubbo offered a cheerful grin. “It’s a pretty bad ultimatum, yeah.”

Tommy nodded, looking back at Dream with a triumphant smile. “You see, Big D? Your deal sucks. It’s fucking terribl—”

Dream let out a deep sigh. “Tommy, I’m really not in the mood for this.” His form turned toward you for a split second, taking in the sight of your figure next to Sapnap’s before looking back at Tommy. “Let’s just get this over with. What’s your decision?”

The blond blinked at him for a second, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. “Oooh, are you having women problems?”

Dream’s grip on his sword stiffened, his fingers twitching. “What,” he said, his tone harsh, “are you talking about it?”

Tommy shrugged. “I’m just saying, you might be having some.” He gestured to himself, smiling pompously. “If you were like me, you wouldn’t have these kinds of problems, because I’m an expert at women.”

The string thinned another fraction. “Sure you are, Tommy.”

Just then, Wilbur spoke up. “Tommy doesn’t know what he’s talking about, ignore him.” His smile mirroring Tommy’s. “But say, Dream,” he drawled, his gaze flickering back and forth between you and him, “do you happen to know the saying ‘green with envy’?”

Dream’s breath hitched. If he said one more wor—

Wilbur narrowed his eyes teasingly. “Because to me, it seems to be you’re covered in green from head to toe—inside and out.”

And the string snapped.

“George,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion, “set it off.”

The group looked at him in alarm, their eyes wide as George began, “A-Are you sur—”

“Just set it off!” he shouted, a fury like none other taking over him. How dare Wilbur of all people tease him—taunt him? How dare he? Maybe it was a bad idea, but he was done with negotiating.

It was time.

Without any more questions, Dream watched as George lit three sticks of dynamite, tossing them onto the ground ahead of them. The moment the sticks hit the ground, George yelled, “Go, get out, get out, get out!”

Every member of Dream’s faction turned, rushing for the entrance just as the first explosion rang out. Screams rang out all around him, Tommy cursing incessantly while Fundy screeched. Hidden under his mask, a grin stretched across his face at the sound of destruction. He was a single step away from the exit when Sapnap let out a desperate yell.

“[Y/N]!”

Dream stopped, turning to look over his shoulder. The explosions were still ringing out around him, but what he saw horrified him.

You laid on the ground with an arrow pinned to the train of your satchel, leaving you stuck on the ground. Above you, a chunk of the L’Manberg walls was dangerously close to unlatching itself and falling on you. All it would take was a few more explosions for that section of the wall to come crashing onto you, and Dream knew that they had hidden more than enough TNT under the country to make that happen. 

You were tugging desperately on your satchel, unsheathing your sword to cut yourself loose, but Dream knew there wasn’t enough time.

He didn’t allow himself even a single second to process what was happening—he simply bolted.

In one moment, he was turning to head out of the base. In the next, he was tackling you to the ground, his taller figure shielding yours as he pinned you to the earth below.

“Drea—?” 

The ear-splitting train of explosions cut you off, and Dream felt a surge of white hot pain sear up his back as the chunk of wall slammed into his back. He was vaguely aware of the fact that his armour was cracking. He knew he should have repaired it when he had the chance. 

Just then, his mask slid off his face, landing squarely on your chest. The strap must have snapped, he thought distantly to himself. The ringing in his ears was deafening, and he could just barely make out the sight of you crying out underneath him, your lips forming his name—his real name.

It was a shame he couldn’t hear your voice saying it. He’s sure it would sound lovely.

Then the world went dark.

Something cool brushed over his face, and Dream felt himself being pulled out of unconsciousness.

Where... am I?

Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking while then drowsiness seeped out of his eyes. It must be late afternoon, given how warm and light it was. Letting his eyes readjust to the brightness of the day, he took in the sight of the space around him. It only took a few seconds for him to figure out that he was in his room. He recognized those chests, his messy desk, the curtains framing the open window. A breeze must have been what woke him up.

Why am I here?

He thought back in his mind, trying to recall the last memory he had experienced.

The battle. His SMP. L’Manberg. Tommy. Wilbur. Ultimatum. Dynamite.

He grimaced.

Oh. Right. That.

He vaguely wondered if their side had won, but also knew that he was missing something. He could have sworn there was more to the battle than just that. What was it?

He felt a weight pressing down on the bed just next to him. Glancing down, his heart stuttered in his chest at the sight of you sitting in a chair next to him, leaned over and fast asleep on the edge of his bed. The images flashed through his mind.

Taunting. The wall. You. Pain. Heat. Your lips mouthing his name. Darkness.

Ah. He remembered, now.

He shifted slightly, feeling a dull pain shoot up his side. Wincing, he pulled back the covers, looking down. He was wearing a new shirt and sweatpants—clean clothes, thank goodness. Lifting up the hem of his shirt, he grimaced at the sight of the white bandages wrapped around his torso. They definitely extended to his back as well, if he remembered correctly. So that explained the aches. 

Ever so slowly, he wiggled back, ignoring each wave of pain that crashed over his spine when he did so. A few moments later, he had finally brought himself to a sitting position, your head now lying on his lap. Dream smiled fondly down at you, reaching out to stroke your hair. You were beautiful when you were sleeping. Well, you were beautiful all the time, but he digressed. 

He had a million questions swirling around in his head. How long had you been sitting here? Did your back hurt from leaning over for so long? Were still mad at him?

He really hoped you weren’t.

Just then, you reached a hand to rub at your eyes, letting out a soft noise as you began to wake up. Dream’s hand immediately darted back to his side, and he watched intently as you brought yourself back to a sitting position. You let out a quiet groan as you cracked your back. It was only then that you fully opened your eye. He could practically see the recognition set in your eyes as you took in where you were before you whirled, jaw dropped as you stared at him.

“Um,” he began, suddenly feeling shy, “hey there.”

You continued to gape at him, eyes wide. “You’re awake,” you blurted.

His lips quirked. “Sure am.”

You scooted closer to him in your chair, shoulders shaking. “You’re actually awake,” you repeated, almost in disbelief.

Dream nodded, amused. “Yep. You already said that.”

All of sudden, you moved forward, climbing onto the bed so that you were sitting on your knees right beside him. He didn’t have a chance to react before you were leaned into him, weakly smacking his chest with your fists, your shoulders trembling as you did so.

“You’re. So. Stupid!” you wailed, punctuating each word with another light hit. You whipped your head up, glaring at him through your watery eyes. “Why did you do it? Why did you block me from the debris?”

Dream averted his gaze from yours, his heartbeat picking up from how close you were to his. He could only hope you couldn’t feel it through your hands. “I wake up and one of the first things you tell me is that I’m stupid?” he said, trying to avoid the topic at hand. “What a warm welcome back.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line. “Don’t change the subject, Dream. Answer the question.” Your gaze narrowed. “Why did you do it?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “I—I didn’t even think about it,” he admittedly truthfully. “I just moved without thinking.”

You stared at him, your brows furrowing. “But why? You should have been worried about yourself first.”

Dream blinked down at you, feeling his heart beat against his rib cage wildly. He was almost positive you could feel it. 

Then it hit him, the realization sinking into his mind as clear as day.

It was now or never.

He took a deep breath, reaching up to hold your hand in his. He watched something in your gaze melt, but the question remained in your eyes.

Luckily for you, he had an answer.

“I like you,” he said. “That’s why.”

You stared at him, stunned. He felt anxiety lump in his throat.

“You do?”

He swallowed it back down.

“Yeah.”

There was a beat of silence.

And then you began to cry.

Almost instantaneously, Dream began to panic. “H-Hey,” he said gently, wrapping his arms around you carefully, “why are you crying? Did I say something wrong? I, uh—” He gulped. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I know you like Sapnap.”

Now, it was your turn to be confused. Sniffling, you wiped at your eyes. “Wh—” Hiccup. “W-What are you talking about? I don’t—I don’t like Sapnap.”

He wrinkled his brow at you. “Sure you do,” he said. “You’ve basically been all over him lately. That practically screams, ‘I love Sapnap’.”

You stared at him, your tears reduced to stained cheeks now and a slightly sniffling nose. “Sapnap and I are best friends,” you said, frowning.

He nodded. “Yeah. And you like him.”

Your frowned deepened. “No, that’s—” You stopped, and he watched as the gears turned in your head, being able to pinpoint the exact moment they clicked together. 

“Dream,” you said slowly. “You think that I—” You pointed to yourself. “—like Sapnap?”

He cocked his head. “I mean, don’t you?”

You stared at him for a moment longer. “Dream,” you said again, “when you jumped in front of me, I was absolutely terrified. I didn’t know what was going on, and I only remember screaming before you just blacked out on me. We won and L’Manberg surrendered, but George had to help me carry you back. You were out for two days.”

He cringed at your words. It was good that you had won, but two days was a long time to be unconscious. He must have missed so much. 

“During those two days, Dream,” you continued, “I practically didn’t leave that chair.” You pointed to the chair you had been sitting on just moments prior. “Sapnap had to drag me down to eat, and I still slept here, as you already saw.”

He gaped, absolutely shocked. You stayed by his side? For two straight days? For him?

He must have said that out loud without thinking, because you nodded and pursed your lips. “Dream,” you said, “do you know what that means?”

He blinked at you. “I don’t see how this has anything to do with you liking Sapnap.”

You let out a groan, hanging your head in your hands. “How are you this dense?” you muttered, your cheeks flushing pink. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

He didn’t think he could be anymore confused. “Say what?”

Lifting your head, your eyes met his, your cheeks burning with heat and hands shaking. “That I like you, and not Sapnap.”

Dream froze, his brain short-circuiting in his head.

You liked him.

You liked him back.

A grin spread across his face. This was possibly the greatest day of his life.

Without wasting another minute, he pulled you into his arms, practically crushing you to his chest. You squeaked at the sudden movement, your heart swelling in your chest at the sudden display of affection. “Huh—”

“Thank god,” he murmured in your ear, his voice soaked in relief. “I genuinely thought that you were going to reject me.”

You wrapped your arms around him, careful to be gentle with his back, and smiled into his shoulder. “I thought I was being obvious, but I guess you’re just really stupid.”

Dream sighed, dizzy with affection and something that felt like love.

“Yeah, I am.”

Dream let out a yawn as he walked into the living room. “Good morning,” he said, eyes darting around the room. “Has anyone seen my—”

He stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes landed on you. On the other side of the room, you were curled into the couch like you almost always were in the morning. But this time, you were wearing a green hoodie. His green hoodie.

His heart melted at the sight.

He didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore beautiful, yet here you were, destroying all of his expectations. You never ceased to amaze him with just how wondrous you were.

He sighed, striding to the other side of the room and settling in next to you on the couch. “Never mind,” he murmured, leaning in close to nuzzle his face next to yours. “I found it.”

You giggled at his touch, pushing his face away from you. “Ugh, you’re so cheesy.”

He rolled his eyes at you, grinning. “Don’t act like you don’t eat it up.”

You huffed, turning away from him. “I’m not saying anything.”

Sapnap walked in while Dream laughed at your expression, a glass of milk in hand. “Morning,” he greeted, sitting down on the couch opposite of you two. He spared a single glance in your direction before asking, “Are you two being gross, again?”

Dream‘s grin widened. “You know it.”

Sapnap gagged as Dream leaned in close to your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Ewww.”

Turning to face your boyfriend, you pressed a hand to his cheek and cooed. “Clay.” He leaned into your touch, his lips curling. He was right. His name did sound lovely on your lips,

You returned his smile with one of your own, moving your hand away from his cheek and towards his hairline. 

All of a sudden, you flicked his forehead, pain shooting through his skull as he jumped.

“Ow!” he yelped, wincing at the slight sting of your nail against his skin. He rubbed at the red skin, glaring at you. “Why’d you do that?”

You smiled sweetly at him, but he could see your eyes glint devilishly. “Because you’re an idiot for not realizing I liked you sooner.”

From the other side of the room, Sapnap let out a cackle, pointing at Dream. “Suck it, green boy!”

Dream’s brow twitched and a dark grin crossed his face as he stood up, cracking his knuckles. “Oh, Sapnap—”

Let’s just say that Sapnap needed more than a few ice packs, that day.

#mcyt #dream mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader #mcyt fandom #mcyt scenario #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfic #mcyt fluff #mcyt angst #dreamwastaken #dream #dream team #dreamwastaken x reader #dream x reader #dream imagines #dream scenario #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken scenario #dream smp #dream fluff #dream angst #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken angst #dream fanfic #dreamwastaken fanfic #sapnap #sapnap x reader #georgenotfound #georgenotfound x reader

[memes-saved-me]

What if Billy gets tortured by some Russians and Steve is forced to watch - @charleslucid

TW: Angst, injury, interrogation and blood

The room was swaying...or Steve was. He couldn't tell but he knew his eye was swollen and would feel much worse if he lived to see tomorrow. How long since they had stood there hitting him over and over asking questions he didn't understand was something his fogged brain couldn't answer but what he did know was they had walked out and left him there alone and the reason they did scared him.

It was impulsive, a reaction he didn't have control over. He wasn't even sure if what they had said was what he heard but when they mentioned the words blond and boy his mind cleared for a moment and he blurted out not to touch him. Then, after looking at one another they left.

Leaving Steve alone with the blue lights that worsened his headache while his body caught up with his injuries, his mind telling him he had messed up worse than ever before. Something he knew was going to have consequences but he wouldn't know exactly what that meant until the door flung open and he looked up to see him.

Hunched over, hair hanging damp with sweat before his face as they dragged him in along with a chair which they sat him on about two feet opposite Steve.

"You bastards," Steve said almost a whisper as shock took hold of him.

Billy's white tank top was covered in dry blood, very clearly having dripped down from his face which was only confirmed when the guard pulled back his hair to reveal it. Swollen and bleeding as he wheezed with every breath.

"You bastards!" Steve repeated but this time his legs straightened and he was standing there with anger rushing through his body with no outlet.

"Now. Now," the commander smiled as Steve was forced back into his seat by another soldier. "I take it you know each other."

"He doesn't know anything," Steve replied looking back and forth between Billy and the uniformed man. "Please, he doesn't even work with us."

"They don't...care," Billy managed to say, eyes still closed and his head held back by the hand of a man who meant nothing but harm towards him. "It's...okay."

"We do care," the commander replied. "Now. Again who do you work for and how did you find us?"

"I've told you. We work at the mall," Steve told them yet again but just as he prepared to take a hit, the guard swung at Billy. "No!"

"Who do you work for?"

"No one!" Steve was panicking, tears stinging the cuts on his face as he fought against the hands holding him down. "We work at an ice cream parlour. Please."

Billy groaned as they landed a punch right to his gut, the soldier letting go of his hair to let him lurch over in pain. This happened over and over as Steve begged for them to stop, every answer or lack thereof resulting in Billy being hurt. Hit, slapped and punched until finally he slumped over and stopped moving completely.

"Stop!" Steve cried, pleaded as Billy's breathing became even fainter than when he was first brought in. "You're gonna kill him."

The commander gave an order in Russian which resulted in one of the guards lifting Billy's head to check him, hands gripping his jaw firmly moving his face side to side before being let go to fall forward again.

"Is he okay?" Steve asked, fear seeping in. "Is he breathing?"

Except, they didn't answer. They didn't say a thing as they left yet again but they didn't take Billy. The door closed and without giving it a moment of thought Steve was on his knees trying to look up into Billy's face behind his hair for any sign he was at least breathing.

"Please," crying from the pain and guilt of watching Billy be harmed because of his mistakes and words. "Billy, come on wake up for me. I'm so sorry."

That was when he truly broke down, sobs slipping from his lips as he pressed his forehead into Billy's knee. The denim rubbed against his sore skin as he begged whoever controlled all of this. Whether it be a man with a beard in the clouds or a mystical being up in the stars. He asked for them to spare Billy from this, to let him get out of it alive.

"I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have got you involved with this bullshit. I tried so hard to keep you away from it then let you walk right into a trap," Steve took in a deep breath and tried to calm down but the tears didn't stop, couldn't even wipe them away. "Please. Please. I love you too much for you to leave."

That was when he heard a huff and looked up to see Billy smiling slightly with his eyes still shut and his head still hanging low.

"Holy shit," Steve almost gasped as he moved onto his knees to get a better look at him. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Love you too," he practically mumbled but Steve got it, letting out a soft laugh as he shifted again to sit on the floor and rest his chin on Billy's knee.

"Don't tell your friends," he joked trying to trick himself into calming down again.

Billy let out a huff again, too tired and injured to say anything else but that was alright because Steve had him again. He was alive and the horrors that were to follow weren't a worry for just that moment as Steve sat there letting the fire under his skin, the bruising and the aches take hold as he looked up at the person he loved more than anything and realised that things might just be okay.

-

@ihni 😉

#harringrove #angst #oof #writing #also on ao3 btw

[tossawary]

wait can we hear more about da ge mbj au I'm very interested

MBJ getting abandoned as a child makes me enjoy imagining him being soft for babies, especially demon babies. Which made me want to see SQH put into a situation with a lost demon child and MBJ getting to see that. 

Which ended in 3,000 words of canon divergence fic.

-

The situation was bad. 

 Airplane’s fellow An Ding disciples were dead. 

 There was a young demon lord unconscious in front of him, probably dying, and Airplane couldn’t bring himself to bring down the rock in his hand. 

 His hand was shaking. He couldn’t make it stop. 

 This System really didn’t give a fuck about the author’s wishes, huh? Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had been shoved into one of the worst character roles in Proud Immortal Demon Way and left to take the long way around to the plot. Now he was being told that his favorite character was expendable? Irrelevant? Talk about insult to injury! Nothing was sacred here, was it? 

 Airplane put down the rock. 

 Then he picked up the rock again. 

 He looked at it. 

 Then he hurled the rock away and put his head in his hands instead. 

 He came to a decision - a shitty decision for a shitty situation - and got to work saving his future murderer’s life. At least he would know some of what to expect if he kept the storyline mostly the same! Besides, his life wasn’t good enough to be that concerned about it! Maybe the System would put him into a decent role next time! 

 Maybe it was empathy at seeing someone being fucked over by the System! 

 Airplane did his best to slow down Mobei-Jun’s bleeding and loaded the man into the cart. He also did his best to ignore all the dead bodies around them. Gross. 

 That should have been that! He should have then been on his way to continue making a really bad decision in a really bad situation. But as Airplane moved to leave the scene of a massacre behind him, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He startled, snapping around, prepared to defend himself physically or verbally! 

 Instead, he saw a baby. 

 Ah, well, not a baby baby! But a child somewhere between the ages of three and four years old! A chubby one too! The chubby child was crouched halfway behind a tree, looking at Airplane with wide eyes, little hands clawing anxiously into the grass. It was impossible to miss their little pointed ears and the blue mark in the middle of their forehead. How could anyone miss that kind of family resemblance? 

 The demon child froze upon being noticed. 

 Airplane looked between the demon child and the young demon lord in the card, but the similarities only got stronger the longer he looked! 

 Holy shit! 

 HOLY FUCKING SHIT! 

 But he didn’t remember Mobei-Jun having a child! He remembered Mobei-Jun having siblings, sure, but he was pretty sure that... he’d alluded to Mobei-Jun’s uncle doing away with most of them. Did that mean that this child was supposed to… die? 

 This situation had gotten even worse. 

 Leaving a child here to die was… pretty bad. Airplane had done some not very good things to make it in this world and in his sect without losing any sleep over it at all, but the idea of leaving this child to die made Airplane want to be sick! At least, as soon as he realized that if Mobei-Jun had been protecting this demon child and woke up to find this demon child missing, then Airplane would be really, truly, totally fucked no matter how tightly he hugged the man’s thighs! 

 It looked like the demon child had to come too. 

 How the fuck did a person go about catching a demon child?! 

 “Is… this your gege?” Airplane tried carefully. “Is this your gege here?” 

 The demon child didn’t respond. 

 Airplane gestured at Mobei-Jun repeatedly, unsure how to get the message across. “Is this your gege?” he said, louder. “Baba? ...No? Not Baba? Da-Ge? Are you his didi?” 

 That got a blink. 

 “Didi?” Airplane repeated, desperately. “Come here, Didi.” 

 Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky hadn’t handled children since his last life. He’d been one of the younger siblings in Shang Qinghua’s family, so he hadn’t been involved in any of the child-rearing before leaving. But Airplane’s experience wasn’t very good! Some forced babysitting of his father’s do-over children and his mother’s stepchildren’s children didn’t make him an expert! And this was a demon baby! 

 “Didi, your gege needs you,” Airplane wheedled. “Come here! Come on!” 

 Slowly, the demon child began to crawl over towards the cart. 

 “Your gege is hurt and needs help,” Airplane said, in most most soothing and also urgent voice. It was a weird balance! “Come on! Come along! Didi, your gege needs help. He’s hurt. Come here, please, that’s it! That’s right! Good job! You’re doing such a good job coming up here for your gege! We need to get your gege somewhere safe!” 

 The demon child made it to the cart, trying to stay on the far side of it and away from Airplane. Airplane tried not to make himself look too threatening. He also tried not to contemplate his apparent natural talent for kidnapping children, which probably wasn’t something to make a person feel proud. 

 “Didi, can I pick you up? Didi, can I lift you up next to your gege?” 

 Reluctantly, the demon child lifted his chubby arms and let Airplane slowly approach him. Airplane carefully put his hands under their armpits and then hefted them into the cart beside Mobei-Jun. The demon child nearly kicked him in the gut, struggling to get to the unconscious and injured ice demon! 

 “Ah, be careful of the injury-!” Airplane said, trying to move the child back. “OW!” 

 The demon child bit him. 

 Airplane yanked his poor hand back. “You little fucker! Ah, fine! Curl up in your gege’s blood and see if I care,” he muttered. “Let’s just get out of here already.” 

 The demon child curled up against Mobei-Jun’s side and Shang Qinghua got back into the driver’s seat of the cart. Trying to channel his spiritual energy for healing purposes while focusing on driving was hard. Even if he could have managed it properly, he still would have been stuck with an aching hand as it healed, which didn’t make him feel very charitable towards the demons in the back seat. 

 Ungrateful! The both of them! 

 When they finally got to a decent hiding place, unloading Mobei-Jun was nothing less than a pain in the ass. Airplane was forced to negotiate with a two-foot tyrant with needle-sharp teeth who didn’t want to move and didn’t want Airplane to touch his gege. Airplane was forced to wheedle like never before. 

 “Your gege is hurt, but I can help him,” Airplane insisted soothingly. “See that place? It’s safe in there! Don’t you want your gege to be somewhere nice and safe, where no one can see him and I can heal him? Look at that hiding spot! It’s a good hiding spot. We all need to go into the hiding spot now. We’re all going into the hiding spot. Come on, Didi, help me get your gege into the nice, safe hiding spot. Come on now. Be good.” 

 The demon child bared his teeth as Airplane helped him down from the cart, but thankfully didn’t bite again. The demon child then hugged Airplane’s shins very unhelpfully as Airplane hefted Mobei-Jun into his arms. 

 Airplane was forced to shuffle. 

 He never thought he’d be so grateful for all the carrying that An Ding Peak forced its disciples to do! Sometimes, carrying things around was all Airplane did all day long and now it was paying off! Airplane wasn’t as strong as some of his peers, sure, but he still managed to carry a giant ice demon into the “hiding spot” with a little ice demon attached to his leg. He counted himself grateful there was only one Mobei-Jun to deliver inside, because he couldn’t have handled more. 

 Once inside, the demon child curled up against Mobei-Jun’s side again. Airplane took the opportunity to look after the cart’s beast of burden and unload the supplies from the cart, searching desperately for the medical supplies their mission had been allotted. When he finally found the medicine, returning triumphantly, the demon child was ungratefully unenthusiastic about Airplane’s careful approach. 

 “Ah, Didi, don’t growl at me! See, look! Look! It’s medicine! Medicine for your gege to stop the bleeding and... make sure his organs go back on the inside. Eugh. Ah, anyway, I’m helping. It’s okay because I’m helping. See, look, I’m helping. It’s okay.” 

 Airplane managed to get pretty far before the demon child couldn’t take it anymore and tried to bite him again. Airplane shrieked, but managed to wrestle the demon child off him, and ended up grabbing some of the food supplies as a desperate distraction. 

 “Bite this! Bite this! Didi, look, it’s food! Food for Didi!” 

 The demon child growled, but putting the food directly in front of his face caught his attention. The demon child’s eyes narrowed in on the food in a super predatory way that was unseen in human babies. Airplane gladly made the sacrifice. He threw the food to the demon child, who scrambled to catch it, gave it a sniff, and then started to hesitantly nibble on it before taking bigger bites. 

 “See? Don’t bite your Shang-Gege and he’ll give you food instead,” Airplane muttered, quickly turning his attention to the bigger demon. “You stay there and chew that and let me help your gege. I’m helping. I’m helping. I’m helping. Shang-Gege is helping Didi’s gege. Everything is good. Everything is okay. There’s no need for biting.” 

 Airplane didn’t really know how much the demon child understood of what he was saying. The demon child looked more than old enough to understand basic speech. He at least understood “stay”, Airplane decided, by sitting off to the side and anxiously chewing through dried food supplies while Airplane worked rearranging Mobei-Jun’s guts and then bandaging up the blood mess. 

 Maybe it helped to see that Airplane had no intention of eating the unconscious and vulnerable Mobei-Jun or something. He was pretty sure that was a demon thing. 

 He couldn’t bring himself to think about what he was doing! 

 If he thought about his actions here, he was going to throw up or something! 

 So long as he kept his hands moving here, he didn’t have to think about anything. He was just an An Ding Peak disciples hard at work betraying the sect. Yeah. 

 Eventually, Mobei-Jun was in as good a shape as Airplane could get him. The demon child - Didi, Airplane decided to call him - was curled up into a ball beside where Mobei-Jun was lying. Didi looked like he was forcing himself to stay alert. 

 “It’s all okay now,” Airplane said. “See? I helped. Shang-Gege helped your gege. Your Gege needs to sleep to get better and now you can sleep beside him.” 

 Airplane washed himself as best he could and tried to wash Didi a little, but the demon child was resistant and snapped at him. Airplane, expecting this now, successfully dodged the snap and wiped at Didi’s face. Trying to be nice was too much work! Airplane’s clean-up job ended up being pretty shitty. There was no doing anything about Mobei-Jun’s blood staining Didi’s clothes around the knee and elbow. 

 “Ah, fine, curl up in blood again, you little brat,” Airplane sighed. 

 Didi curled up against Mobei-Jun’s side again and, apparently, immediately fell asleep. 

 Airplane secured their hiding place as best he could, took stock of their pitiful amount of resources, and tried not to panic about what the fuck he was was going to do now. He was exhausted. Saving two ungrateful demons was hard work. He had no idea what was going to happen next. He was pretty sure he had just made the worst mistake of his life, but it was a little late to change things now. 

 Airplane found a good patch of floor to watch over the demons and let himself collapse. He was too tired to think anymore. There were too many things to think about. 

 He hoped that Mobei-Jun didn’t die. Demons were hardy and demon lords were even hardier, but the real world that had been made out of his shitty web-novel was really unpredictable sometimes. For all Airplane knew, Mobei-Jun was going to develop an infection and a fever. Maybe Mobei-Jun would die anyway and Airplane was going to be stuck with a bitey demon brat who hated him. 

 Airplane yawned. Keeping his eyes open was becoming really hard. Fuck. 

 Watching Didi’s back go up and down with his unconscious breaths was pretty mesmerizing. It was really tempting to sneak over there and pinch one of those chubby, chubby cheeks. Or those cute demon ears. But the demon child looked almost as tired as Airplane felt and probably bit in his sleep. 

 Airplane really didn’t want to think about what would have happened if he’d just taken off with Mobei-Jun, not knowing the demon child had been hiding nearby. That might have been the worst possible situation. Didi was dirty and exhausted now, sure, but he looked like one of those babies who should have been spoiled and happy all the time, and not mercilessly abandoned to the human world.  

-

 Airplane woke up with a hand around his throat, squeezing. 

 There was a dark shadow above him and an even darker feeling in the air. The hand at his throat felt freezing cold. The air was burning with hateful demonic energy that felt like acid on his skin. Airplane struggled, but it was all immoveable. 

 “Where is he?” the shadow snarled. 

 Airplane choked. 

 His shadowy attacker belatedly seemed to realize that Airplane couldn’t talk when he was being choked to death! The squeezing let up enough for Airplane to breathe again. His lungs felt like they were burning hot and cold! His throat felt crushed and ruined. 

 “What did you do with him?” the attacker demanded. 

 “...W-wh…?” 

 “The child! Where is the child?!” 

 Airplane realized here that he was looking into the face of his future murderer. It was hard to make out in the darkness when he was being choked! 

 Mobei-Jun looked wild. His eyes looked like lightning. 

 “The ch-child… ch- chi- is-” 

 Mobei-Jun snarled again with impatience. 

 Even though it definitely wasn’t Airplane’s fault he couldn’t talk coherently! 

 “H-here,” Airplane choked out. 

 Mobei-Jun’s grip tightened, but then the man froze. His head snapped to the side. 

 Airplane followed the demon lord’s gaze. 

 Through the darkness, if Airplane squinted, he could see a small figure crouched by the supplies. Didi was frozen, watching them, chubby cheeks stuffed with stolen food. 

 Oh, there weren’t words for what Airplane wanted to say to the brat! Sneaking around like this in the middle of the night! Nearly getting Airplane strangled for no reason! 

 Mobei-Jun released Airplane immediately and flew across the room to the demon child, who threw up his arms immediately. Mobei-Jun took his younger brother into his arms and then collapsed heavily to the floor. By the sound of it, he crushed some of their precious food supplies as he fell! But the man was too busy wrapping his arms around the demon child to care about things like that, letting Didi sob into his chest, glaring at Airplane over the demon child’s head. 

 Airplane kept his distance! He knew better than to get anywhere near that! 

 The silence was very heavy. 

 He was certain that Mobei-Jun had reopened his wounds, if they had managed to close at all! As time trickled by them, he could see red seeping down the man’s side. 

 “...There are more bandages,” Airplane said finally, hoarsely. 

 Mobei-Jun’s scowl deepened, his lip curling. 

 “Ah… if- if you want them.” 

 What an asshole! 

 Airplane stayed put and didn’t make any sudden moves. 

 His throat felt like shit, so he tried to heal it with his spiritual energy. It was hard to focus with the demon lord glaring at him like that, on the other side of the room, but he didn’t really have anything better to do. There were only so many names he could silently call this ungrateful young demon who’d attacked the bro who’d saved his life! 

 At least Mobei-Jun hadn’t bitten him too. 

 Time trickled by and by. Eventually, Mobei-Jun’s eyelids began to droop close. The man’s injury appeared to be pulling him back under, whether he liked it or not. 

 After Mobei-Jun’s eyes had closed without opening for a long time, Airplane finally risked moving again. Mobei-Jun didn’t wake up, but Didi’s eyes fixed on Airplane, which made Airplane fear being bitten as he carefully came closer. 

 “Ahhh, see? Your gege is fine. I’m just… just going to put him back to bed, alright? You- don’t get up… just stay there and don’t bite me. We’re putting gege back to bed.” 

 Airplane dragged Mobei-Jun back to where the man had been before, with Didi staying put on his elder brother’s chest. Airplane was sure that this couldn’t be good for the demon lord’s wounds! But clearly Mobei-Jun didn’t give a shit about his own health! 

 “Didi, can you get off gege’s chest? Keep hugging him, just slide off, please? Gege is hurt, remember? Gege is hurt and we need to help him. See, he’s bleeding. Please let your Shang-Gege help again and don’t bite me. Everyone is fine. Everyone is happy. Everyone is getting along just fine and helping and healing. There’s no need to bite your Shang-Gege who is only helping, okay?” 

 Didi was more cooperative this time, sliding off Mobei-Jun chest to hug his less-injured side, while Airplane poked at the demon lord’s bleeding. The injuries looked… a lot better than Airplane would have expected them to. This healing rate was nothing short of astounding. Was this the power of an OP demon lord? How unfair! 

 Airplane did his best fixing the man up again. 

 He should have just let the man rot! 

 Mobei-Jun had just tried to kill him again! He would totally deserve it! 

 But there was a demon child carefully watching and Airplane didn’t want to end up with custody if his future murderer died here after all. What would he do with a demon child? Take them back to the sect?! His master would love that, he’s sure! 

 “Ah, looks like he’s getting lots better,” Airplane told Didi hoarsely, rubbing at his poor throat. “You’re doing a good job looking after him. Good job helping your gege. Keep helping his sleep, okay? Stay right there and don’t go sneaking off again, okay? Please don’t go sneaking off again, your Shang-Gege won’t be able to take it.” 

 Didi just blinked at him. 

 “Good job,” Airplane said. “Good job. Shang-Gege is… going to make sure that everything is okay outside. You stay here and protect your gege. Good job.” 

 That said, Airplane crept backwards, got up, and went outside. 

 Once outside, he promptly fell to his knees and curled in on himself. 

 “Holy fucking shit,” he said. 

#moshang #mobei jun #shang qinghua #mobei didi #tossawary svsss #tossawary updates #da ge mobei jun fic #ask tossawary #anonymous #Anonymous #fic ideas #Babe in the Woods

[frombeyondtheblackhole]

Hermit DSMP Swap AU: Part 9.1

[TW: Blood, violence, severe injury, bone related gore and zombie/undead related body horror. Please take care of yourself and stay safe. Warnings bracket the worst of the potentially triggering content and a summary is provided if you feel the need to skip that part. Some violence and minor injuries are outside the brackets. If there is a specific TW that you would like me to include in the future feel free to let me know and I will do my best to add it.]

Quackity, Purpled and Charlie, spent over an hour searching through the woods and the land around Las Nevadas, well mostly just Quackity and Purpled while Charlie hovered around asking annoying questions. Neither The Zombie nor Foolish were anywhere to be found. 

Quackity told Purpled and Charlie to Head back to Las Nevadas and look there while he did one more check around the perimeter for any clues as to what happened. Quackity took his time. Now that he was by himself he was able to think more clearly. He shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned.    

Quackity wasn’t exactly sure what he had witnessed. He’d never seen something exactly like it, one minute Foolish was standing in front of him and the next he was gone and this zombie lady was in his place. He might argue with the other Las Navadas recruits, and they might not have the best opinion of him, but one thing was certain, if anyone messed with them, especially on Las Navadas property, They were messing with him and he wasn’t about to let anyone push him around, not anymore, never again. 

Quackity looked up as he rounded a sand dune, the walls of Tubbo’s “cookie” outpost looming up on the edge of Las Nevadas land. Quackity Scowled. One problem after another. The whole conflict about the walls hadn’t really been resolved, Tubbo was being stubborn, unreasonable. But that wasn’t a priority at the moment, he would deal with that latter, right now, he had bigger problems. 

Quackity followed along the wall and stopped short on the road in front of the Las Nevadas toll tunnel. Ranboo and Tubbo stood on the road coming from the other direction.

They stared at each other, neither side moving. Then Quackity broke into a smile “Hey there, Fancy running into you two here. You seem to hang around here a lot, have either of you seen Foolish or a strange looking Zombie by chance?”

Ranboo fidgeted and looked away but he was always fidgeting and he was never one for eye contact so that wasn’t exactly a tell. 

Tubbo on the other hand, Quackity had been in the same cabinet with him during Schlatt’s presidency, and in the cabinet during Tubbo’s presidency, he knew what the kid looked like when he lied. 

“A Zombie you say? What makes you think we would have anything to do with that?” Tubbo shrugged. 

Quackity didn’t drop the smile. “Don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly what I am talking about.”

“Honest big man, there are no Zombies here, that's why we built the walls.” Tubbo insisted.

Ok so the kid was getting better at lying. Quackity frowned but the smile returned a moment later. “That's all good. Just be careful, she did something to Foolish, he’s gone missing, I’m worried that if she is allowed to roam free and do whatever she wants then she might do what she did to Foolish to someone else. You understand. I would hate to hear that one of you two went missing.”   

Tubbo and Ranboo looked at each other.  They definitely knew something they weren’t telling him. 

“Thanks for the warning big man, we’ll let you know if we see anything,” Tubbo smiled tightly before grabbing Ranboo’s arm and pulled him aside to whisper in his ear.

Called it. Quackity smiled, his sharp gold tooth glinting in the sunlight. He turned on his heel and headed back down the tunnel towards Las Nevadas. 

---

Cleo looked down at the dark water lapping against the stone pier where she sat, her legs dangling over the edge. The air smelled of salt, cold stung her lungs. She wasn’t shivering despite the fact that a crop top and shorts was chronically under dressed for the weather. She didn’t really notice. 

Her heel bounced against the wall of the peer as she stared out to sea. Snowchester was secluded, nice and peaceful, but it also felt vacant. There were houses but no one lived in them. Not that that was anything all too strange, Hermits built empty houses all the time, but these felt different. The empty houses the Hermits built were intended just for show, or to conceal functional builds. These houses once housed people, and now were abandoned.  

Cleo looked up at the sound of footsteps crunching through the snow and the clunk of boots against the wood at the beginning of the peer. Tubbo and Ranboo stood looking back at her. Tubbo had his hands in the front pockets of his coat and Ranboo stared at her over Tubboo’s shoulder. He never seemed to blink, it was a bit unnerving. 

Cleo pursed her lips “Um, thanks for letting me stay here kids, but-”

“You can’t stay here anymore,” Tubbo blurted out. 

Cleo blinked.

Ranboo flinched “Sorry about all this, it’s just…”

“Don’t worry about it kid,” Cleo said, getting to her feet, “I was going to leave anyway,” She shrugged.   

“Oh really,” Ranboo sighed.

Tubbo frowned “Why? What changed?” 

Cleo chuckled hollowly, “I could ask you the same thing.” 

Tubbo pursed his lips but didn’t push the issue.

Cleo walked past the two of them and started up the path.

“Wait,” Ranboo called

Cleo stopped.  

“Where are you going to stay now?” Ranboo asked. Tubbo just glared at her.

Cleo shrugged and smiled a bit to cheerily “I’m sure I’ll find a nice cave somewhere, after all I am a Hermit,” 

“Um,” Ranboo looked off to the side, tapping his fingers together. “If you need it there’s a hotel in the Greater Dream SMP. It’s big and red, hard to miss.”  

Cleo chuckled, “I’ll be alright, don’t worry ‘bout it.” 

Tubbo was still glaring at her. She turned to leave again.

“Just know that if you try and mess with us we can and will defend ourselves,” Tubbo said.

Cleo didn’t turn around “Oh, I know,” She smirked as she walked away. This Tubbo kid had guts, she could respect that. 

---    

Quackity taped his fingers against his arm impatiently as he waited in the ditch on the Greater DSMP side of the speed tunnel to Snowchester. After talking to Tubbo and Ranboo he had watched from a distance and followed them here. 

The splash of oars cutting through the water reached Quackity’s ears as a boat made its way towards his hiding spot. Quackity took a steadying breath, stealing himself as he listened carefully. The boat scraped against the shore and there was a crunch of sand as someone got out of the boat. Only one person. 

Quackity stood up and moved into view. The Zombie jumped, summoning her sword as she spun around to face him, teeth bared.

Quackity held up his empty hands and took several steps back. “Woe, woe woe. Hold on. I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“You think?” She scoffed. She didn’t attack but she still had her guard up. 

“Just tell me what you did to my friend and maybe we can resolve this peacefully,” He smiled tightly. 

“I didn’t do anything! And even if I did, why would I tell you? You already tried to kill me once?” She said. Then her expression changed, as if just remembering something. She lowered her sword and straightened. “What do you know about perma-death?” She asked calmly.

Quackity sucked in his breath and took a step back. Was this a threat or a legitimate question? He looked at the determination in her eyes… It was both. 

He fought the urge to summon his axe. 

“Do you really think you can kill a Zombie? I’m already dead. The rules don’t apply to me!” She strode forward and pointed her sword at him. Quackity staggered back looking up at her standing over him on the edge of the pit framed by the crystal clear sky behind her.   

Was she bluffing? 

Fuck. 

She spun on her heel and ran the other direction, across the field. 

The trance was broken. 

[TW: Blood, violence, body horror. Skip to the next bolded text to avoid the worst of it] 

“Shit, Get back here!” Quackity scrambled up the bank, summoning his crossbow and letting loose the bolt. It struck her in the leg, but she didn’t even seem to slow down. Had she even felt it? An ender pearl replaced the crossbow and a moment later he felt a sudden rush as he flew through the air, switching to his axe mid-flight. He crashed into her back, embedding his axe between her shoulder blades.

Quackity pulled his axe out of her back and staggered backwards. She wasn’t dead. She hadn’t despawned yet. Maybe she had been telling the truth about being unable to die. Oh wait, she was moving.

She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees coughing up dark sickened blood. She staggered to her feet and turned around to face him again, fire and determination in her eyes.

How was she still standing? That last hit had to have broken several ribs. Quackity glanced at the exposed ribs poking out from under her crop top, edged with decayed flesh. Those had been that way before. Maybe broken bones didn’t matter?  

[TW End: Summery: Quackity chases after Cleo, she tanks a bunch of damage but is able to keep fighting despite severe injuries]

Why were his knees shaking? She hadn’t even scratched him this time, and she wasn’t as good at combat as Dream or Techno. Yet she refused to die? 

He clenched his teeth and scowled, “I’ll give you one more chance. Tell me what you did with Foolish?” He demanded. Now he was bluffing. 

“I. Don’t. Know!” She yelled as she lunged at him, summoning her sword mid swing as she brought it down on him. 

He didn’t have time to block. Instead he moved back and swung the axe up. The blunt side of the head struck her in the chin as he felt her sword cut into his shoulder and graze his chest.

She staggered back and switched her sword out for a gapple. 

Oh no you don’t. Quackity raised his axe about to lung when he felt someone jump on him from behind. Arms wrapping around his neck in a choke hold. The axe returned to his inventory as he grabbed at the arms around his neck. They were invisible, his attacker was invisible.  

“Cleo, Run!” the invisible man shouted. 

She froze, the gapple halfway to her mouth “Etho?” 

“I said run!”

She turned on her heel and started running, only pausing for a moment to eat the gapple and keep going. 

Quackity clawed at the arm around his neck. This Etho guy was invisible. That ment he wasn’t wearing armor. Quackity summoned a sword in reverse grip and stabbed behind him. He heard Etho hiss as the sword grazed him. His grip loosened and Quackity was able to wrestle free. Summoning another pearl he threw it, getting away and landing near some trees. He staggered against one of the trees, coughing and rubbing his neck. He gritted his teeth, his face twisting into and ugly snarl. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She got away. And she had an accomplice.  

They made him look like an idiot. He quickly rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He had promised never to let himself feel helpless again. Never to let other people control him. Yet he had let himself get pushed around by some random Zombie and one guy with an invis pot. Fuck this. He needed to do something about this. He couldn’t let this stand.

#hermitcraft dsmp swap au #dsmp #dream smp #hermitcraft #dsmp au #hc x dsmp au #dream smp au #hermitcraft au #quackity #tubbo #ranboo #zombie cleo #etho

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Wounded Love (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for blood/violence and language Genre: Action with a lil bit of fluff Warnings: Lil bit of blood Notes: There's an unnamed character in here who may or may not end up as recurring in my stories. I don't really have anything in particular planned for her, she's kinda just here to fill a role/allow for some easter egg type shit in the next chapter. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1, Pt. 2

{Wounded Love 3: Bloody Valentine (No, not that Valentine)}

“Mother Miranda, I must insist, if these lycans stray any further they might start feasting on the village as well! Pray tell, who will you use for research then? We can’t just-... Forgive me… Mhmm. Yes, I understand. Of course… Have a good night, Mother Miranda,” Lady Dimitrescu said, before setting her phone down with a loud thunk. Her hands shake a little, and for a moment you worry that her vanity won’t survive the coming moments. Then you make eye contact with her reflection, giving her an encouraging smile, watching as her gaze softens. “I’m afraid there’s nothing she can do, my dear. I cannot allow Heisenberg’s negligence to go unpunished, but we will have to take care of it on our own, without Mother Miranda’s support.”

“Is that wise, love? To go behind her back like this? I can’t imagine she’ll be terribly pleased if we cause chaos for one of her favored few,” you replied, clicking your tongue as you thought things over. Again you see anger cloud Alcina’s face, though she makes sure not to direct it at you.

“We are not the ones who started this mess,” she reminded you, through clenched teeth. “But we will be the ones to end it, one way or another. I don’t care if I have to gut that wretched man-thing and bring Miranda his corpse as proof of his incompetence! He has shown his lack of loyalty hundreds of times… and now he will pay.” Gulping, you rise to your feet, wanting to comfort your girlfriend. While you had understood that your injury angered her, you hadn’t (until this moment) realized the sheer intensity of that rage. How much blood would be shed before this was over?...

-----------------------------

Crimson drips down the beast’s side, across matted fur, before hitting the wooden floor. A stench as awful as you had ever found filled the air, only made tolerable by the nearby presence of scented candles. What a mess, you think, glad that you wouldn’t be the one to clean it up. Why had the girls insisted on bringing the damn thing inside? Couldn’t they have simply snatched a few teeth from its jaw as a prize? Somehow you doubted that the thought had even crossed their minds. Violence was a passion of theirs, and they preferred their trophies to be as large as the effort they put into getting it.

“How close to the path did you find it?” You asked after finishing your examination of the lycan. Next to you, the eldest daughter is rapidly taking notes in a leather-bound journal. Both of her siblings stand near the fireplace, hands held out next to the flames, needing to warm up after being outside for so long. It wasn’t even that cold of a day, with temperatures averaging around eighteen degrees celsius. All the snowfall from the prior week had now melted. While you knew of the family’s weakness, you also knew that they had bundled up before leaving, and had even taken a torch with them in the hopes of using it on a lycan. Their powers had taken somewhat of a hit, temporarily, but not nearly enough to prevent them from killing a single lycan.

“Heard it howling almost as soon as we left the castle. We couldn’t smell it until halfway to the village, though. Once we could we tried to track it, only for the stupid thing to come charging at us. Must have been eight, maybe ten, meters away by the time we collided,” Cassandra answered. There’s a bit of a shiver to her voice, and you can’t help the rush of sympathy you feel in response. Being out on the path, wearing little more than a dress and scarf, had been absolute hell for you. Even if it was warmer outside now, you imagined that being weak to the cold just about made up for the difference. “There was a little more howling once we started walking back here. Louder, if not closer. Heisenbitch isn’t even trying to keep these fucking things in check.”

“Cassandra, language!” Came a voice in the distance, making everyone present look up at once. Strutting down the stairs was a clearly miffed Alcina, eyes narrowed, body tense. “Did you three really have to bring the mutt inside? Surely you advocated against this, Bela? Or did you think I wanted new bloodstains right by the entrance, where everyone can see them?” Next to you Bela winces, but doesn’t respond, too worried about angering her mother further. “And you, my dear, what on Earth are you doing on the floor? You should be resting, in an actual chair, if not lying in bed awaiting my return. There’s enough for me to worry about without you limping around on a useless leg!”

Now it was your turn to wince.

“Please, love, I know you’re stressed, but I can still help. Given enough time I could help ascertain these things’ weaknesses. At the very least I could pass on what I learned during my fight with one,” you pleaded. Then you tried to stand up, wanting to prove yourself, only to stumble, barely avoiding a faceplant- and only doing so because of Bela’s quick reaction time. She helped you to your feet, letting you lean on her, then lead you towards a bench. Begrudgingly you sit back down. “You’re only doing this because I got hurt. Helping you in your endeavor to avenge me is the least I can do.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Alcina snapped, now just a couple meters away from you. Even with that space between you, her presence was intimidating, and you almost felt like a child being scolded. “Were you to get hurt again, how would we avenge you? If you fall by your own hand, there will be naught I can do other than lock you away somewhere without any dangerous elements. What sort of existence would that be for you? I simply can’t allow it, no exceptions.” At this you pout, feeling rather disappointed. It’s not as if you were asking to carry a gun and shoot Heisenberg yourself! Not that you would be opposed to doing so, of course. “Try to put yourself in my place, my dear. Could you live with yourself if you failed to protect me?”

“I suppose I could not, love. Very well, I shall simply root you on from here, and kiss away any injuries you return with,” you replied, at last giving in. Then you found yourself smiling… and on the receiving end of a very soft forehead kiss. “Nothing will separate us, my love. None can tear apart that which the universe has stitched together.”

-----------------------------

“Like I said, my Lady, I already want him dead. Did you really think that your family was the only one to suffer because of his machinations? I know half a dozen people who would love to put a bullet in that fucker’s skull, bare mims,” the huntress said, white teeth showing in her half-smirk. There was an odd coolness to her voice, like this whole ordeal was just another job, and you couldn’t help but feel uncertain about her. Could she really be the solution to Alcina’s problem? You couldn’t even judge her arsenal, considering she had been instructed to come unarmed. After all, she was a hunter of monsters, with a sizable history to her name. If not for her hatred of Heisenberg, you would never have felt comfortable letting her come within two hundred meters of your girlfriend.

“How can I be sure that you’ll succeed? The last thing I want is to have that wretched man-thing come crawling out of the filth he lives in, angry and coming for vengeance,” Alcina responded, scrutinizing gaze locked on the huntress.

“Didn’t Duke give you my file? Or at least read the good bits out loud? I’ve been in my fair share of scraps, with all sorts of bioweapon mutant freaks. Besides, I don’t plan on leaving any receipts behind. If he manages to survive, which is already one hell of an if, there’s no way he can prove that you asked me to do it. Considering he’s already seen my face, and knows I want him dead… yeah, he won’t bother accusing you, not when I’m in the picture, and certainly not when you’ve got such a big reputation for following Mother Miranda’s word down to the very last letter. So, you gonna make this official, or what?” The huntress asked, gesturing her arms wide. Although you’re still not convinced, Alcina nods quietly, seeming ready to make her decision. Regardless of how you feel about the stranger in front of you, you’re more than willing to support your girlfriend in whatever she planned.

“Very well, huntress. Show us just what you’re capable of.”

-----------------------------

Flames licked at her heels, even as she charged forward, tickling like hot breaths against her skin. Behind her half a dozen lycans roared and screeched in unison. Smoke and ashes flew upwards, into the air, but could not poison her lungs, not when she had come prepared. Still, the mask was not as easy to breathe in as she had hoped, making her chest heave with effort at each intake of air. Good thing I’ll be gone soon, she thought, sparing a glance behind her as she ran. Dozens of trees were aflame, and countless glowing eyes watched from between the branches. They wouldn’t be there for much longer, not with what she had done.

Soon enough an explosion would shake the Earth. Then, finally, both the lycans who had killed her father and the man who desecrated the remains would be dead. And if a certain countess happened to pay her for her services? All the better, really. Funerals could be expensive, especially in such a remote village. More than that… there was no guarantee that she’d be able to outrun Mother Miranda on her own. A little money would make the flight out a hell of a lot nicer.

Assuming she made it that far. There was another scream behind her, this one more human, though somewhat warped by mechanics. It wasn’t a pained cry. No, it was filled with rage. Clearly Heisenberg had come out of his lair, hearing the fireworks, finding his scrap metal and werewolf army in chaos. From the sound of things- metal against metal, electricity crackling- he was coming her way.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” She muttered, desperately trying to get to higher ground. Even if the lycans succumbed to the overwhelming fire, it wouldn’t be hard for their leader to overcome. But the huntress was still too close to her explosives to risk activating the detonator. Just a bit farther, she thought, ignoring the way her lungs ached. Rocks kicked up with every step, loud enough to be heard from a distance, and made traction harder to keep. In the end she had to scramble to get up the side of a short cliff. A few scrapes appeared on her hands, making her curse under her breath.

But with one last movement, pulling herself up with both arms, she was finally far enough to be relatively safe. In one clean second she turned around, pulled the detonator out of its pouch and clicked the trigger. Just like that, a forest blazing turns into a mushroom cloud of pure hellfire. The setting sun makes for a beautiful backdrop, and the sight almost brings a tear to the huntress’ eyes. For a few moments she just enjoys the view. Then, without hesitation or remorse, she starts to walk away, mentally congratulating herself for a job well done.

Until something shoots past her head with terrifying speed. Before she can react another sharp piece of metal flies past her, grazing her arm, and there’s a blood-curdling roar from behind her. Then she’s running, fast as she can, pulse pounding harder than it ever has. One hand goes to the rifle on her back, pulling it out as quickly as she can. The area is rocky, with plenty of outcrops, perfect to hide behind (assuming there weren’t any hidden metal deposits). Quickly she ducks behind one, crouching to keep her head out of sight. Mere milliseconds later another metal spike slams into the ground just beyond her cover.

In the distance, more screams pierce the air, and something heavy drags itself across the ground. It almost sounds like a tank rolling through the woods. The thought alone worries the huntress, but she had never been one to let her fear control her. So she double checks her rifle, adjusts the scope, and pops out of cover. Less than a second later she has her target in her sights. It’s Heisenberg, for sure, more metal than man, but dripping with red. One press of the trigger sends a bullet straight for his ugly head. Unsurprisingly, it’s not enough to pierce his cranium, instead making him mad as hell.

Which is why automatic guns were invented, probably. The huntress holds the trigger down this time, though briefly, before dashing to the next piece of cover. She repeats the process a few times, hoping to kill the man before he could climb the cliff she stood on. If he managed to get up there with her… no, she couldn’t think about that, not now. She had to focus.

-----------------------------

Hidden among the trees, the Dimitrescu sisters watched as plumes of smoke rose in the distance. Even though they had been aware of the huntress’ plan, they hadn’t expected this much carnage. It was certainly exciting! But they really couldn’t see much from where they were. Getting closer was probably a horrible idea, and yet Cassandra shared a meaningful look with Daniela. A split second later they were forming a swarm, rushing into the trees, leaving their elder sister to yell after them.

“Mother’s going to kill me,” Bela said, before rolling her eyes and following. Maybe she could at least keep them out of trouble?... Probably not.

-----------------------------

Metal hands wrap around the huntress’ throat, squeezing hard, but do not twist or otherwise break their prey. No, Heisenberg does not intend to end this that quickly. This rodent had taken so much from him, set his plans back by decades. He was going to kill her slowly. When she still fights back, pulling a knife from her boot and trying to stab whatever she can reach, he does little else but laugh. It’s a crazed cackling that echoes through the surrounding rocky hills.

Just barely loud enough to drown out the sound of insects buzzing.

“Fuck that guy!” Someone shouted, right as a sickle descended upon the monstrous Heisenberg’s neck. The first slice isn’t enough to sever the connection, which is why it’s immediately followed by a second, from another sister, then a third, from the eldest, that finally does the job. Just like that the hands release from the huntress’ throat, and she gasps for air. Coughs leave her distracted as the sisters move to surround her. “Good thing we wanted to see the show up close and personal, eh?” Daniela asked, twirling her sickle with a little giggle.

“You idiots are just lucky I followed you,” Bela added, glaring at her sister. Internally, she was relieved that the end result was a success. Still, she worried about what her mother would think, and certainly didn’t intend to voice her satisfaction at delivering the killing blow. “Now let’s get back, before mother assumes the worst and comes to get us herself.” Sighing, she extends a hand to help the huntress up. Though their mutual enemy had been defeated, there was still much to be done. Who knew how Mother Miranda would react? Who, if anyone, would take Heisenberg’s place? There was plenty to be unsure about, and Bela let her mind wander the whole way back, hoping that things would only get better from here...

#lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #I know the reader didn't have a big part in this #but don't worry next chap will have a bigger part #partially cuz reader's leg will actually be a bit better by then #gotta give time to heal!!!

[teshamerkel]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 25] (31 Pages)

<< First | < Previous | Next >

The fire, and the aftermath.

-

He’s found another one.

Tobias curses and weaves through the fiery wreckage of the building, hurrying over to the unconscious sandile he’s spotted half-buried in rubble. He makes quick work of digging the ground type out from under the debris, sending a silent prayer up to—well, to someone as he pulls them free and leans in close, pressing a hand to the Pokemon’s chest. He breathes a sigh of relief when the sandile’s ribs rise and fall under his palm. They’re still alive, even if their breathing is raspy from smoke and burns litter their scales. They’re lucky they’re half ground type, resistant to the flames growing ever-hotter around them.

Tobias hefts the sandile into his arms, stumbling under their weight before righting himself. They’re the third Pokemon he’s stumbled across since running into the fire, and after two previous trips in and out of the building he’s starting to wear down. The heat and smoke are less dangerous to him since he’s a fire type, but along with the scrapes and bruises he’s accumulated, his stamina is slowly running low.

Tobias tries to shove away his looming exhaustion, turning to squint at his fiery surroundings before deciding on the least dangerous-looking path and moving outward towards safety. He doesn’t know how long he’s been in here, finding Pokemon who didn’t make it out of the building before it started to come down, raining fire and rock and choking the air with smoke, but he still catches occasional glimpses of other Seekers darting in and out of the flames, also looking for more injured Pokemon.

He’s starting to worry they won’t be able to find everyone in time. Not all Pokemon can withstand flames and smoke like this, not to mention the ceiling slowly caving in above them.

Some part of Tobias can’t help worrying if they’ve found Junie yet.

He may not like the rookidee much, but that doesn’t mean he wants her to die. He’d gone back into the flames partially with her in mind, after all, knowing she got caught up in the crowd and separated from him and Nia.

Tobias rounds a bend in the fiery shambles, sharp eyes on the lookout for anyone else trapped in the rubble. A flicker of movement catches his eye, and he glances over as a typhlosion rushes past him with three or four small Pokémon laid out across her back, her movements confident in a way that only an experienced rescuer could be. Tobias scans the unconscious Pokemon, but no, she’s not carrying a rookidee. The typhlosion hesitates at the sight of him, but he jerks his head in a “Go on, I’ve got this” motion, trying to seem calm and strong even if his legs feel like they might give out at any second. She looks uncertain, but glances back at her charges before nodding and racing forwards again, presumably to an exit.

Tobias takes a bracing breath of smoky air and follows her.

Finally, he makes it back to one of the huge gaps in the wall of the building, stumbling through into fresh night air that feels almost cold against his heated skin. He blinks hard as he passes by Seekers and fire rescue Pokemon, eyes slowly adjusting after the dazzling light of the flames. He finds one of the medical teams that have set up post around the perimeter and drops the sandile off there, relieved to see the ground type still taking rattling gulps of air.

He’s supposed to report back each time he returns from a trip inside the building, but Keegan is nowhere to be seen and Tobias isn’t sure who else he could notify. Instead of worrying about it, he takes a moment to breathe and recuperate, wandering back towards where he’d left Nia to see if she has any news on Junie. Maybe one of the other Seekers found the rookidee and already brought her out to safety.

Tobias scans the Pokemon around him for Nia, tuning out the shouts of the Seekers and the murmuring of the civilians gathered around the blazing building. He slowly makes it back to what used to be the front of the structure, looking for a familiar blue and black pelt in the low light. He frowns when he doesn’t see her, turning slowly and cursing the confusing combination of darkness alongside the orange wash of flames—it makes it hard to find anyone in this mess.

He looks once again for his partner.

And looks.

And looks.

By the fourth time Tobias has searched the crowd around him and found no riolu, something in his chest is tight. Maybe she’s at one of the medical stations with Junie?

His heartbeat grows louder in his ears as he moves his search to the nearest medical tent, asking for a riolu and maybe a rookidee. Nothing, so he moves on to the next. And the next.

“Where are you, you idiot?” He mumbles, ignoring the way his voice shakes. Something like dread twists in his gut, and he ignores that too. He glances at the burning building, but then resolutely looks away again, back out at the endless storm of Pokemon rushing around and yelling and watching and crying.

Surely she didn’t—

“Have you seen a riolu around?” Tobias asks the first Seeker he finds, trying to sound calm and confident.

The flareon’s brow furrows, and he shakes his head. “No, sorry. Were they inside the building?”

“Not when I went in, but now I can’t find her,” Tobias responds, glancing again at the fire. Another chunk of the ceiling caves in, crashing loudly into the flaming wreckage, and the flareon’s ears twitch.

“I’ll keep an eye out for her,” The flareon says, sympathetic. His dark gaze flicks down to Tobias’ scarf, and then further down to the scrapes and soot littering his skin. “For now, go to one of the medical stations and get those wounds checked out.”

“Right,” Tobias mumbles, turning and slipping away to not do that. He can worry about his bumps and bruises later. Right now, it’s more important that he finds Nia, makes sure she didn’t do something stupid like—

He shakes his head and moves on, still scanning the crowd and feeling worse with each passing second that he doesn’t see his partner. Nobody has, until he talks to a lycanroc that comes stumbling out of the wreckage.

“A riolu?” The rock type asks, blue eyes teary and squinted as he coughs. Then his ears perk and he lifts his head. “Yeah, my partner and I saw ‘em a bit ago.”

Tobias barely stops himself from grabbing the lycanroc by the scruff and shaking him. “Where?”

“She ran into the fire,” The lycanroc says, head tilting. “She had a Seeker scarf on and looked like she knew what she was doing so we didn’t try to stop her.”

The rock type is saying something else, but Tobias’ doesn’t hear him. A cold wash of fear runs through his body, leaving his stinging cuts and aching bruises feeling numb. Slowly, he turns his head to look again at the fiery shell of the building, at the flames licking higher into the dark sky. Another part of the wall crumbles, and the foundation shakes.

No. Nia can be naïve but she’s not stupid, she would know better than to go running into that, she—

For just a moment Tobias thinks of lying on a mossy dungeon floor, on the brink of consciousness, and a trembling riolu stepping in front of him, branch held at the ready to defend him from a pack of feral Pokemon.

A stupid, stupid, stupid bleeding-heart riolu.

Without another thought, Tobias races away from the lycanroc and his yelled questions, past other Seekers and into the flames yet again. He stumbles over the rubble, cutting open another spot on his foot, but pays it no mind as he looks around, desperately hoping that Nia will magically appear right in front of him. But no, nothing. Just flames and wreckage and smoke—

(She has no protection from the fire, what if she’s already unconscious and buried under rubble where no one will find her?)

“Nia!” Tobias yells, cupping his hands around his mouth as if that’ll make his raspy voice loud enough to be heard over the roar of the flames. No response.

Tobias pushes deeper into the shell of the building, moving more carelessly than he had earlier and getting a few new injuries for it. He shouts Nia’s name again, panting hard as he listens for a response.

The roar of the flames around him is loud, the crackling and snapping accompanied by an occasional ground-shaking rumble as another part of the structure falls. The flames are starting to lick at even Tobias’ skin, starting to make him feel itchy and hot, the smoke weighing heavy and unnatural in his lungs.

But he can’t just leave Nia.

Something shifts on the edge of Tobias’ vision, and he whips around, expecting it to be the debris settling, hoping for it to be his partner.

Instead, an arcanine stands atop the rubble.

Tobias’ breath catches in his throat.

Memories try to surface, only adding to his panic.

Bright plumes of flame lighting up cave walls, throwing harsh shadows as snarls ring out. A bright orange pelt, jagged black stripes, bristling cream fur. Sharp fangs and hot breath, a heavy paw on his chest, holding him down, blunt claws digging into his throat, a scar across the arcanine’s eye leading to a shredded ear—

Tobias forces himself to take deep, shaking breaths even as he feels like he’s going to throw up. He stares at the arcanine, putting all his willpower into shoving the memories away and staying on his feet instead of collapsing. The arcanine is too far away to get a good look at his face in the flickering light of the flames, and Tobias knows how unlikely it would be for the outlaw to just be here by chance, but…

But the fire itself shouldn’t have ever started. Shouldn’t have spread so quickly. And the arcanine is just staring at Tobias. Watching him, no visible scarf or sash marking him as a Seeker or fire rescue member.

Then, suddenly, the arcanine turns and bounds away, vanishing into the flames.

“Wait!” Tobias yells, forcing his legs to move and stumbling after the larger fire type.

He pants hard as he follows, knowing how hopeless it is trying to catch the outlaw. Still, he chases after him blindly, a nauseous blend of fear and fury making something hot crawl in his gut. He trips and slams into more debris, another gash opening up his side and bruising his ribs. He ignores it and staggers forward again, looking around wildly.

There! The arcanine is watching him from afar, completely calm and still. An angry snarl rips from Tobias’ throat as he lunges after him. He doesn’t know what he’ll do when he reaches the outlaw, but he—he has to. He finally has one of the trio he’s been hunting down right here in front of him! He can’t just waste this chance!

Once again, the arcanine turns and leaps away, vanishing behind a large pile of debris. Tobias races after him, vaulting over a flaming wooden support beam, blinking at the dazzling brightness of embers it throws into the air. From there, the arcanine is nowhere to be seen. Tobias curses and spins, looking desperately for that dazzling orange pelt.

The low, creaking rumble of another structure falling sets him on edge. He reluctantly pauses his search for the arcanine to instead scan the ceiling above him. It’s caving in again, and close. Tobias steps back, squinting at the ceiling—half flaming structure and half open sky—and finally, he sees it. Smaller bits of fiery stone and wood are already beginning to rain down where the heavy ceiling is buckling under its own weight.

Tobias absently notes not to go in that direction, gaze flicking down, only to freeze. Directly below the crumbling ceiling are two familiar figures. Their usual black and blue colors are nearly red in the firelight.

Nia and Junie.

No.

Junie is saying something, weakly trying to flap into the air, but her leg is pinned to the ground by rubble. Nia is just shaking her head, slumped over like she’s barely able to hold herself up.

The ceiling groans, and Tobias’ head snaps up to watch, horrified, as it finally starts to cave. He’s moving before he realizes it, sprinting for them and feeling wreckage and rubble trip him up, tear at his skin. He won’t be fast enough.

“Nia!”

Nia’s head lifts and turns—slow, too slow. In the span of a heartbeat he sees her notice him, sees her expression flicker from something he’s never seen on the riolu’s face, something hopeless and dull, to a painful amount of relief. But then he sees her confusion, sees her follow his gaze up to the ceiling. Sees terror pin her ears flat.

It all happens so fast that Tobias isn’t even sure he sees it at all. The ceiling falls, raining boulder-sized debris onto the two of them with enough weight to crush and maim and kill, and Nia throws herself over Junie.

And in the landscape of heat and flame, a flash of bright blue energy lashes out from the riolu, pushes out like a bubble or a dome around Nia and Junie, like—

A shield.

The wreckage falls on top of them with enough force to shake the ground, burying the blue with soot and flame and rock.

Tobias chokes and runs faster, terror flooding his veins and making his heart thud hard against his ribs. No. No no no, this wasn’t supposed to happen, this can’t happen, he didn’t just watch Nia die right in front of him, he can’t do this again!

(“Vivi? Vivi, c’mon, w-wake up!”)

The rubble is still settling when Tobias reaches it. He knows exactly where Nia and Junie had been, and he starts digging, uncaring of how splinters and stone slice at his hands and tear his skin. Entei, he needs help, he isn’t fast enough on his own! Where are the other Seekers?!

Most of the rubble has broken down enough for him pick it up and chuck it away, or to put his body weight into it and shove it aside, but the strain is already taking its toll. His breaths are painful and ragged in his chest, his own body temperature rising dangerously high. But that doesn’t matter. He has to keep going. He has to find them. Even if he knows they had to have been crushed.

Tobias shoves aside another rock, and there’s a flash of soft, sooty blue. His heart jumps, then sinks as he realizes that it’s Junie’s feathers, not Nia’s fur. He should be gentler than he is, but panic makes him yank the painfully light flying type out with rough movements.

As he lifts her body free, Junie’s eyes crack open, glassy with pain. “Nia?”

Tobias just stares in response. Because a large portion of the ceiling just fell on top of Junie, and there’s no way the weightless flying type should even be alive right now, let alone able to talk. She should be a feathery pancake in the dirt.

But he did see Nia dive on top of the rookidee, taking the brunt of the blow. And he saw that strange flash of blue, too. Her aura? Could that have saved them somehow? She was nowhere near the level of making a full-body shield last he’d seen, she’d only just started figuring out how to solidify her aura at all, but…

Tobias sets Junie against a piece of stone and begins digging with renewed energy. Nia has to be here too.

Or her body, at least.

Tobias grits his teeth and ignores that thought the best he can. Just like he’s ignoring the heat under his skin and the blur in his vision, the pain screaming from his bloody hands and cracked, torn claws. Junie’s alive somehow. Nia has to be too.

Another stone upturned, and Tobias stops, seeing a patch of dirty blue fur. Hope threatens to choke him, and he frantically digs through the rest of the rubble to unearth his partner. As soon as he has her head and torso and most of her legs visible, he loops his arms under her and tugs, pulling the riolu free of the debris and staggering back.

Nia doesn’t stir like Junie did, eyes closed and face peaceful save for smudges of ash and patches of raw, burned skin. There’s a trickle of blood coming from her nose. At the very least, her body is miraculously uncrushed, with no obvious displaced bones or flattened limbs. But she’s not moving, not making a sound, bruised and battered and for a moment all Tobias can see is a little orange face so like his own, too still, and he feels his stomach heave with nausea. She can’t die, she can’t be dead, he can’t do this again he can’t handle losing Nia too when she was right there—

Tobias turns his head to lay flat against Nia’s chest, listening for breathing, for a heartbeat. C’mon, c’mon!

There. It’s faint, but her heart thumps once, twice under his ear. A shallow rise and fall of her chest follows. Tobias’ body melts, feeling the solid, living warmth beneath him, and he lets out a shaky breath into Nia’s fur. She’s alive.

“Toby?” Junie rasps from his side, voice wavering with fear.

Tobias lifts his head, suddenly remembering that they’re still in the middle of the fiery building, that they’re still in danger. Even if they can get out of here, Nia and Junie need to see a medic as soon as possible—the two of them have to be overheated and suffering from smoke inhalation at the very least.

The rookidee has settled beside him, feathers ruffled, ruby eyes wide and scared. Her leg is crooked and held out at an awkward angle. Tobias looks at her for a moment, and then down to Nia. He might be able to make it out with the riolu on his back, but even he’s starting to feel the heat and the pain of his wounds. He’s fatigued and can’t guarantee he’ll reach safety in time, and he doesn’t want to risk that. He swallows hard, tries to summon up his calm medic voice, and looks at Junie.

“Can you fly?” He asks.

Junie tentatively stretches out her wings, blinking at them as if she isn’t sure herself. She flaps them, and lifts into the air in a jerky hover, leg still dangling oddly. Must be broken. The rookidee looks back to him, almost as if for confirmation.

Tobias swallows hard, looking at the shaky bird as dread opens a pit in his stomach. Junie’s scared of heights, but it’s very possible they won’t make it out of here without her.

“I need you to fly, Junie, okay?” Tobias says, trying to sound like he’s in control of the situation, like he’s confident that she can do this. He has a feeling he’s still too sharp, too wild-eyed. “I need you to fly up through the roof and get help from the other Seekers. Tell them to come get us.”

Junie shakes her head, tears bubbling up in her eyes. “I-I can’t! I can’t, what—“

“Junie.”

The rookidee quiets, still flapping in jerky motions and visibly shaking.

Tobias swallows hard, grabbing at Nia’s fur under his claws. His eyes never leave the flying type. “I wouldn’t ask this if it wasn’t important. I know you’re scared, but Nia could die if we don’t get her out of here. We need help.”

For a moment, Tobias thinks he’s broken through to her, that she’ll face her fear and soar into the sky. But the rookidee is injured and frightened, and when she furiously shakes her head she almost knocks herself over.

“I-I can’t!” Junie wails, immediately falling into a hacking fit and dropping back to the ground.

Tobias can’t even find it in himself to be angry, too afraid and exhausted to channel anything else. Instead, he focuses on how they’ll get out of here if they can’t get Junie to send for help. He’s still running on adrenaline alone, and he can feel it start to flag, feel his fatigue start to creep in alongside the pain of his wounds. But they have to leave now—the whole place is coming down and going up in flames all at once, and Nia needs to get checked out as soon as possible.

There’s a sharp crack nearby and Tobias is back on alert, looking around and jumping as more chunks of the ceiling fall to the ground not ten feet away. Tobias snags Junie and pulls her close, covering both her and Nia from the resulting cloud of splintered wood and embers as best he can, hissing as if he could scare away the encroaching flames.

He can’t protect these two on his own. Not here. He wants to wait for help—he’s not even sure if he can pick Nia up in his state, and he shouldn’t even be moving her in case she has a serious injury—but the fire is moving closer and the rest of the building will cave in soon enough.

“We’ve gotta move,” Tobias decides.

Junie doesn’t answer, and Tobias looks down to find that the rookidee has passed out entirely. He must’ve jarred her leg when grabbing her and the spike of pain was too much.

“Anything else want to go wrong?” He grumbles, fighting back a fresh surge of panic. Okay, fine. Now Junie’s passed out too. Great. At least she’s light.

Something crashes to the ground nearby, and Tobias moves into action. He leans down and draws one of Nia’s arms over his shoulder, and then the other. He pulls himself to his feet, stumbling under Nia’s deadweight before managing to haul her forward and onto his back. He’s panting already, dizziness finally starting to spot his vision, but he hops to settle her higher before staggering forward. Nia’s head flops lifelessly onto his shoulder, and something in Tobias’ chest aches at the reminder of their flight to Ghatha not even a day ago. Nia had been so excited for this stupid trip.

Tobias grits his teeth and crouches to awkwardly tuck Junie under his arm. He barely manages to stand, looking around and desperately trying to figure out where they are and how to find the nearest exit. He pushes forward in a random direction, hoping against hope that it’ll lead them to safety.

He’s not sure how long he walks like that, with Nia against his back, his breaths tearing through his chest like an open wound, Junie a limp ball of feathers under his arm. His adrenaline finally drains away, and exhaustion takes its place as spots dapple his vision. His limbs are so heavy. Every step feels like a monumental movement. His hands hurt from the digging, and cuts and bruises litter his body.

The charmander trips over something and crashes to the ground, barely managing to shove Junie out from under him at the last second. He tries to push himself up, Nia a heavy weight on his back, before flopping back into the dirt. He’ll catch his breath. Just a second, a minute to catch his breath, and then he’ll get to his feet again and keep walking. He will. He blinks heavy eyes at the blurred landscape of bright flame and jagged, crumbling silhouettes.

It’s endless, this world of fire and smoke and heat. There’s no escaping it. But he has to. He has to.

For a moment, just as he’s on the edge of consciousness, he swears he sees paws stop in front of his face. Huge paws, with sleek orange fur and blunt claws that have haunted his nightmares for years.

And then everything is dark and still.

__________________________________________________

There’s music.

The melody itself is foreign to him, something soft and hopeful, but the voice singing it is as familiar as his own skin. It’s sung lullabies to him since the day he was born.

Tobias lifts his head, only to find himself in his nest with Vivi. The smaller charmander is curled up against his side, her breathing peaceful and her tail flame a steady flicker.

“It’s late, Toby,” A voice rumbles from his other side, deep and comforting.

The singing doesn’t stop, coming from somewhere out of sight, closer to the entrance of the cave.

Tobias blinks heavy eyes and looks around, relaxing at the familiar sight of their dark cave, lit only by the warm glow of three tail flames. Tobias knows the rocky walls are decorated with colorful children’s paintings, but he can only catch a glimpse of them in the low light.

Shifting to get a bit more comfortable in the nest, Tobias looks over at his Papa, curled up in his own bed with his wings tucked loosely against his back, head lifted and looking towards the entrance to the cave. The charizard is huge, but that only makes Tobias feel safer. His Papa’s a big softie anyways.

“Why’s Mama singing so late?” Tobias asks, voice hushed so he doesn’t wake Vivi. His sister can be a little monster if she’s woken up before sunrise.

“Is it keeping you up?” Papa asks, not looking at Tobias.

The charmander shakes his head. “No. I like Mama’s singing. She always sings in the morning, though.”

For a moment, Papa doesn’t answer. Then, quietly, he says, “It’s too cloudy to see the stars tonight.”

Tobias blinks up at the shadowed form of his Papa, not quite sure how that answers his question. Usually Mama and Papa say things so they make sense to him and then he can explain them to Vivi, if she’s still confused. But every once in a while they say something that he doesn’t understand.

Tobias tries to crane his head around his father to see his mother, silhouetted against the night sky, but he can’t quite manage it. After a moment he gives up and settles back down into his nest.

“So Mama’s singing…because the stars are gone?”

Papa hums a thoughtful noise, but Tobias thinks it means yes, sort of.

After a moment, Tobias asks, “Will her singing bring the stars back?”

“...No. No, it won’t.”

Tobias frowns. He doesn’t understand why Mama’s singing then, if it won’t do anything to fix the problem. He opens his mouth to ask, but Papa cuts him off.

“Go to sleep, Toby,” Papa murmurs. He unfolds a giant, warm wing to rest gently over Tobias and his sister, dimming the world even further.

Tobias huffs but lies down again, breathing in his Papa’s scent. He isn’t happy about Papa dodging his questions, but he is tired, and his Mama’s voice is the perfect sound to lull him back to sleep.

So he lets it take him under.

__________________________________________________

Tobias wakes up slowly, a cotton-like fuzz blurring his thoughts. He’s...lying in something, but it’s not his straw nest. It’s quiet, save for the soft murmur of a voice, humming the same song from his dream, but the light is bright, brighter than it ever is at dawn when he usually wakes up, in his family’s cave or in the alcove at the guild. Where is he? And why does his body hurt so much? His hands and claws especially—

The pain in his fingers makes it hard to dig, but he can’t stop, so he jams his hands deeper into the rubble and debris, ignoring sharp edges of cutting stone—

Tobias jerks, forcing his heavy eyes awake. A blanket tangles around him, and it’s too hot, too much, it’s suffocating him so he rips it off.

The humming cuts off. “Charmander, you’re fine, you’re safe, all right? Can you look at me?”

Tobias stills and stares up at the source of the voice, panting, his panicked thoughts stalling. It’s a slowbro, his expression concerned and his hands held out in a calming gesture.

Tobias finally takes stock of where he is, eyes darting around the room. It’s sunny and bright and clean, with tan wooden floors and walls, cheery green plants, and medical charts on the walls. Tobias catches sight of a familiar blue, metallic Pokemon asleep in a nearby nest, a bandage over his eye. Seiji? There are a few other Pokémon curled up in similar nests around the walls of the room, all bandaged up or smeared with poultices.

Are they at...a medical station? A hospital?

Tobias blinks down at his stinging, aching hands, bewildered to find them wrapped in a thick layer of gauze and medical tape. He can barely move his fingers, and when he tries, he hisses with pain.

“Don’t move your fingers,” The slowbro advises, voice low and soothing. “You damaged your hands quite a bit. Fractured bones and pulled claws, mostly. A few breaks. We couldn’t rely too much on healing moves with how delicate the bones are in your fingers, so I’m afraid you’re going to have to heal a bit on the slower side.”

Tobias blinks at his hands some more, and then up at the slowbro, trying to process what happened.

The pink Pokémon gives him a sympathetic look. “Having trouble remembering?”

Tobias wants to get angry at the patronizing tone, but he’s exhausted and can’t quite manage it. Instead, he flexes his claws despite the pain and tries to remember what exactly he’d done to wreck his hands. He remembers...fire. And heat. Digging? And—

Nia and Junie, buried in rubble.

Tobias bolts upright in his nest. “Nia!”

Cool, gentle hands land on Tobias’ shoulders, keeping him down. The slowbro meets his eyes with a steady expression that Tobias recognizes from his own medic training.

“Is Nia the riolu you were with?”

Tobias swallows hard and nods. “My partner. There was a rookidee with us too.”

The slowbro’s eyes soften. “Both of them are fine. The riolu was in bad shape when she came in, but she’ll recover. Would you like to see either of them?”

The worst of Tobias’ panic falls away at the reassurance. Nia’s fine. She’ll recover. Junie even made it out okay. Without the tension holding him up, he slumps, exhausted. He really wants to roll over and go back to sleep.

But instead he nods and rasps, “I wanna see Nia.” He still needs to check on her himself. Just to make sure.

The slowbro hums and releases Tobias. “You are still quite battered yourself, so move carefully. No running.” Then, the water type turns and pads out into the hallway, a beckoning hand over his shoulder.

Tobias hurries to follow, wincing at his aching cuts and bruises. Ugh, he has bandages and poultices everywhere. He didn’t even think he was that hurt.

The slowbro leads him down the hall, past one or two Pokémon who give Tobias a sympathetic smile that he dutifully ignores. When they stop in front of a door, the slowbro turns to him.

“Now, Riolu is going to be fine, but she’s still recovering. She was in bad shape when she got here. So don’t wake her, all right?”

“I was a medic,” Tobias snaps, impatient, “I know.”

The slowbro opens the door, and Tobias steps past him. This room is smaller and dimmer than the one he came from, windows covered by bamboo shades, and it’s almost silent save for soft, raspy breathing. There are only a few Pokemon in here, likely kept in the same space due to similar states of injury. Tobias catches sight of a familiar form in the low light.

Nia.

He moves forward cautiously and crouches at her side. She’s resting in a nest similar to his own, curled neatly onto her side. That’s not right. She always sleeps with her limbs thrown every which way, a ridiculous heap, like she just fell into her nest and conked out that way. This just looks...wrong.

She’s covered in bandages and shiny ointments that slick back her fur and cover burns, too. At least the blood and soot has been washed away. Her soft breaths are audible, painfully raspy and rattling in her chest. Nia and Tobias are roughly the same size, but somehow she looks too small curled up here with her fur plastered to her body.

Tobias sits back. Half of him feels soothed by seeing the riolu in one piece, alive and breathing. The other half is more uneasy than he thought he’d be. He’s never liked seeing Pokémon hurt, especially ones he knows. It’s part of the reason he was Maggie’s assistant medic for so long.

The slowbro pads up behind him, voice soft. “You two are a Seeker team, yes?”

Tobias nods. He feels the strange urge to touch Nia, just to make sure she’s actually here, but keeps his hands firmly in his lap.

“Would you like to know her condition?”

Ah, right. Seeker partners get as many patient rights as actual family members do. Tobias nods again, gaze never leaving Nia’s face as she sleeps.

The slowbro takes a step away to read the chart hanging near Nia’s nest. “Well, we healed some of her injuries, but we were limited since we couldn’t afford to exhaust her further. I don’t know if she overworked her body or if something else is at play, but she’s suffering from severe physical fatigue. Do you know if she overused her moves?”

Tobias frowns. Definitely not. Nia still can’t even use her moves, let alone to the point of harming her own body. Then again…

A flash of bright blue flickers through his memory, stark against the fiery red of the flames. It was the same color as Nia’s aura, but Tobias knows Nia wasn’t able to form anything even close to a full-body shield with her aura before yesterday.

The only other option Tobias can think of is a move he’d witnessed once before: protect.

But Nia shouldn’t have access to that kind of move, especially when she can’t even use her more basic ones. So what exactly happened? The more Tobias plays that split-second back in his mind, the more convinced he is that the riolu had indeed thrown up some sort of shield around her and Junie, regardless of the facts. There’s no other way the two of them could have survived debris of that size and weight falling onto them from that height. They should have been crushed. Killed.

Tobias swallows hard and shrugs at the slowbro still waiting for an answer. “Dunno. We were separated during the fire.”

Separated. Ha. He went running in on his own when he should’ve known his idiot partner would follow him into the flames, especially with Junie missing. Entei’s fire, he’s so stupid! He should’ve made a Seeker take her somewhere else. Or at least taken her with him. Anything else but shoving her away only to find her half-dead and buried in rubble.

He kind of hates himself right now. More than usual.

“Well,” the slowbro continues, reluctant. He must suspect Tobias knows more than he’s saying. “The exhaustion is the most worrying thing at the moment. She’s suffering from first and second-degree burns and smoke inhalation, but as long as she can rest, she should pull through without long-term complications.”

Tobias nods, still staring at Nia. Just. Making sure she’s breathing. There’s a few particularly nasty burns across her body that will probably scar, or at least leave a ruffle or two in her fur. Tobias takes a deep, calming breath.

There’s a moment of silence, and then the slowbro sighs. “Would you like to stay with her?”

Tobias finally turns to blink up at the slowbro, still a little too out of it to stay on top of the conversation.

“I’d rather you just stay here than try to sneak out of your own room later on,” the slowbro drawls, with enough exasperation that Tobias knows it’s happened before.

Tobias looks back at Nia and thinks about going back to his own nest in the other room. His comfy, spacious nest, where he can’t keep an eye on her and make sure she’s still breathing.

“I’ll stay,” he says.

The slowbro hums and waddles away. “I’ll get you some extra bedding.”

Soon enough the slowbro has helped him add another lump of soft straw and moss and blankets right beside Nia’s nest. The slowbro tells Tobias that nurses will likely be in to check on them later and to bring him food, but until then he should rest.

For once, Tobias doesn’t fight it. As soon as the slowbro is gone, Tobias pushes his nest a bit closer to Nia and curls up beside her, keeping her face in his sight. After a moment of hesitation, he flicks his tail around to curl over her wrist, so he can just barely feel her pulse under the flickering light of his tail flame.

He falls asleep like that, despite the brightness leaking into the room from the edges of the blinds and the rattling breaths of the injured Pokemon around him.

He wakes in the evening, if the dim blue light coming in through the blinds is any gauge. The creak of the door must’ve been what woke him, because quiet footsteps enter the room right after. Tobias assumes it’s the slowbro or one of the nurses and doesn’t bother looking up until he hears the newcomers speak.

“I still can’t believe this happened,” A voice whispers, sounding on the edge of tears. “So many were hurt.”

“I know. We’re looking into it—I know your troupe’s reputation. Before I let the blame fall to you, I want to make sure there wasn’t any outside interference with your show.”

Tobias recognizes those voices. Despite the pounding in his head, Tobias lifts it to squint at the visitors. It’s Keegan, the second-in-command of the Ghatha guild, and Hugo, the delphox ringleader of the magic show. Keegan’s expression is somber, and Hugo seems absolutely devastated as he looks around at the injured patients in the room.

Keegan notices Tobias first, ears pricking up as he smiles. “Tobias. Good to see you awake.”

“Wish I could say it’s good to be awake,” Tobias grumbles, shifting so he can talk to the ninetales without having to sit up entirely. He winces as the movement pulls at his injuries. “What’re you two doing here?”

“I always check in on the injured after a disaster like this,” Keegan says, his tails flicking in a nonchalant gesture. “Hugo—"

“I’m so so sorry that this happened,” Hugo cuts in, rushing over to Tobias’ side with his ears pinned back. He wrings his paws, sounding like an entirely different Pokemon from the confident, theatrical ringleader they’d seen onstage. “We’ve been doing shows for over a decade and nothing like this has ever happened before a-and I just don’t know how—”

“Breathe,” Keegan says, not unkindly.

While the delphox gasps in a breath, Tobias turns narrowed eyes onto Keegan. “You said something about interference.”

The ninetales’ carefully relaxed expression falls. “Ah. You heard that, then. While we don’t have any proof necessarily of tampering, it’s just…unheard of, for a troupe this experienced to have an accident like this. Something about it isn’t sitting right with me, so I thought I’d look into it.”

“We’re always very careful with our preparations,” Hugo says quietly, not looking at them. He sounds insistent—not as if he’s trying to lie his way out of consequences, but as if stating the facts with enough conviction will undo this entire mess. “We water any nearby foliage before the show. And we keep a psychic barrier up around the stage so our fire will never harm the audience or the surroundings. We’ve done shows at that very auditorium, w-we—”

The delphox cuts himself off, and finally looks at Tobias.

“I’m sorry that you were injured.” His eyes flick over to Nia and back. “You and your friend. Our troupe made it out relatively unscathed thanks to our psychic members but we never even thought of creating an emergency evacuation plan for something like this. If we had, maybe we could have—we could have helped more Pokemon get out sooner.”

Tobias doesn’t really know what to say in response to that, especially in his current state. Comforting platitudes have never been his thing and they certainly aren’t now, less than a day after they’d almost died.

“Why don’t you step outside for a minute?” Keegan suggests to Hugo, voice soft.

The delphox hesitates, but then nods. He gives Tobias one more apologetic bow before hurrying out of the room, on the brink of tears.

For a moment, there’s silence. Keegan sits and heaves a tired sigh, rubbing at his eyes with a paw. Eventually, he asks, “How’re you feeling?”

Tobias snorts, feeling as exhausted as the ninetales looks. “Great.”

Keegan huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “How’s Nia?”

Tobias follows his gaze and looks at the riolu still sleeping in the nest beside him, too small and too still. He watches her until he can see her chest rise and fall in a breath. “Doctor said she’ll be all right,” He finally answers.

“Good, good,” Keegan sighs. There’s another beat of silence, and then the ninetales adds, “By the way, I know this probably isn’t that important to you right now, but I thought I’d let you know so I don’t forget in all the chaos.”

Tobias frowns and returns his attention to the other fire type.

“First, I have your satchel back in my office. Nia must’ve left it in the plaza, because one of my Seekers brought it to me. I’ll bring that over in the next day or two.”

Oh. Tobias blinks. With everything that happened, he hadn’t even given their bag any thought. It just didn’t seem important at the time, but it’s good that they’ll be getting it back. They have their money in there.

“And second,” Keegan says, “I’m moving your team up from E rank to D rank.”

At that, Tobias straightens, ignoring the pull of his injuries. “What?”

“You two were thrown into a situation that, frankly, you shouldn’t have been allowed to help with yet. But after speaking with the Seekers under my care and seeing how willingly you and Nia dove into the situation, saving multiple Pokemon in the process, I’d say you’ve earned enough points from this mess to warrant a rank upgrade. So I’m bumping you up from E to D.”

Tobias just stares at Keegan, unsure of how to feel. He’d always expected that he’d be excited and triumphant when they final got enough Seeker points to advance in rank, but…this isn’t how he wanted to do it. Not by almost dying. Not by almost losing his partner.

“We aren’t in your guild,” Tobias rasps. “Can you even do that?”

Keegan laughs. “Sure can! Seeker points are universal, including guild authority over the matter. Unless you have a problem with it, I’m planning on upgrading you two when I return to the guild this evening. Arceus knows we need all of the competent Seekers we can get right now.”

Tobias doesn’t answer, instead looking down at his bandaged hands and feeling oddly detached from the whole situation. Maybe he’ll be more excited once Nia wakes up.

“How did we get out, anyways?” Tobias asks, quiet as one of the other injured Pokemon shifts in their nest. “I collapsed before we made it outside.”

Keegan nods. “Someone must have carried you out without checking in with me properly. Unfortunately, while we try to keep everything in an orderly system, sometimes in a crisis the tedium just isn’t as important as saving lives.”

Tobias nods, frowning. He…thinks he remembers seeing something right before he passed out. Was it important? He can’t remember.

“You’ll keep us in the loop about your investigation?” Tobias asks, looking back at Keegan with narrowed eyes. “I think we’ve earned the right after getting caught up in the middle of it.”

Keegan sighs. “We’ll try, but some things may have to stay classified, depending on what we find. Anything we can tell you, we will, but there’s a chance certain information could be sensitive to the investigation.”

Tobias scrunches up his nose, not quite happy with that answer but accepting that it’s probably the best he’s going to get. For now. “Fine. Thanks.”

Keegan nods, glancing at the door as Hugo starts a muted conversation out in the hallway with someone. Even through the wood, Tobias can tell the delphox is getting emotional again.

“I’d better go check on him,” Keegan says, giving Tobias another smile. “It’s good to see you and Nia will be all right. I’ll try to check back in a few days. Rest up—you did good.”

The ninetales leaves, quietly shutting the door behind him, and Tobias slowly relaxes back into his nest. There are so many things to think about—Nia’s recovery, possible suspicious activity with the fire, their rank upgrade…but he’s just too tired to deal with it right now.

Shifting closer to Nia, Tobias lets the fatigue lapping at his consciousness take him under.

When he wakes again it’s night. The room is dark, and he’s still drowsy. The air around him reeks of fresh medicinal ointments, but Tobias ignores the unpleasant scent and curls up to go back to sleep. He listens for Nia’s raspy breathing and searches for her pulse with his tail, the flame at its tip small and bright against her fur. Once he finds it, he feels relieved exhaustion pull at him almost immediately.

He’s almost back to sleep when there’s a quiet scratching at the door. He tries to bury his head in his bedding, hoping it’ll shut up and go away on its own. Unfortunately, the scratching only grows more harried, and then something pulls the door open an inch. Stops. Jolts it open an inch more. Tobias finally lifts his head, just in time to see a familiar little shape flutters in through the gap, panting hard. Junie. Tobias can’t help feeling relieved to see her alive, even if she is insufferable.

The rookidee struggles to close the door again behind her, pushing it closed with her entire body. She heaves a relieved sigh and turns, immediately catching sight of Tobias’s tail flame.

“Toby!” She chirps, all quiet excitement. There are a few shiny smears of healing ointment spread over her feathers and burns, and a bandage around her head, but she seems to be moving around okay. She flits over to where he and Nia are, landing in an awkward position with her little leg—encased in a cast—held stiffly to the side. Definitely broken.

“You’re both okay?” Junie whispers, voice hoarse from the smoke. Her ruby eyes skim Tobias’ bandaged hands before looking at Nia. “What about Nia?”

“They said she’ll be fine,” Tobias rasps, lying his head down again. “She’s got some burns and bruises, some smoke inhalation, but otherwise her body’s just exhausted.”

Junie chirps a quiet, relieved noise, and then falls into a coughing fit. Tobias feels his eyes slip closed. He’s still so tired.

When the coughing quiets, Junie speaks up again, hesitant. “Um. I know you’re trying to sleep, but I wanted to say thank you before I lose my nerve.”

Tobias opens his eyes again, looking irritably at Junie. “What?”

“Thank you,” the rookidee repeats, looking away with clear embarrassment. “For saving me.”

Tobias snorts. “I didn’t save you. Nia did.”

Junie meets his eyes with a furrowed brow. “You both did. You dug me out, right? A-And you tried to carry us to safety. Even though all I do is pick on you, you…didn’t leave me.”

Tobias can sense a whole mushy conversation behind that last point and sidesteps it by drawling, “Don’t mention it.”

Junie doesn’t push the point, thankfully, and instead hops closer to Nia’s head, fluffing out her feathers before settling down in the riolu’s nest herself. Tobias doesn’t have it in him to argue about that—Junie’s one more set of eyes that can make sure Nia doesn’t suddenly die on him.

But first…

Tobias lifts his head, ignoring how it feels heavier than a gigalith. He needs to know. “Did you see what happened right before the ceiling caved in?”

Junie stills from where she’s preening through her feathers. “...Oh. Did you see it too? That blue energy?”

Tobias sighs, relieved he’s not the only one who saw the impossible. “It looked like a move called protect, but there’s no way Nia should know how to use it. She doesn’t even know how to use regular moves.”

Junie’s staring at him now in the near darkness. “It looked like...wasn’t it the same color as—“

“Her aura.”

“Yeah.”

The two of them are silent for a moment, listening to Nia’s soft, raspy breaths between them.

“Whatever it was, it saved us, didn’t it?” Junie asks, a tremor in her voice.

Tobias doesn’t bother to sugarcoat it, finally resting his head down again. “Yeah. There’s no way you would have survived otherwise.”

Junie shudders and burrows closer to Nia, not quite touching but probably close enough to feel the riolu’s body heat. “Well, then whatever it was I’m glad it happened.”

Tobias’ tail curls tighter around Nia’s wrist, and if he shifts a bit closer to her, then Junie doesn’t call him out on it.

As much as he doesn’t want to, Tobias can’t help thinking about what would have happened had that last-second protection not popped up. Nia would probably be dead. Gone. He’d be in an empty nest with the guilt of another lost life on his shoulders. Two, actually. Maggie would be devastated. Andyn and Xander would never forgive him, not that he’d ask them to. He’d never forgive himself, either. Azami and Val and August would be so disappointed in him, failing to protect his partner.

And he’d be alone again.

Nia’s the closest thing he has to a friend, nowadays.

Tobias pushes that thought down. They’re not friends, even if he knows some part of him would miss Nia’s stupidly bright smiles and the increasingly easy way they move together on the battlefield. Her lighthearted chatter and naive optimism, how stupidly kind she is to everyone—even him.

Tobias doesn’t like to think about it, but losing his family all those years ago nearly broke him. He’s not sure he could handle another loss when he’s not even over the first one.

Nia snuffles a quiet, pained noise in her sleep, and Tobias takes solace in the sound. She’s hurt, but she’s alive. And for now, that’s more than enough.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon #charmander #riolu #rookidee #pmd seekers of soul #fire tw #fire #tesha draws #tesha writes

[dreaminpetals]

Can you do Idv Andrew relationships Hcs, maybe add nsfw if it's not too hard. thank you so much also I love your writing style :))

⏳ Andrew Relationship HCs . . .

SFW ;;

♡ when andrew first arrived at the manor, everyone welcomed him pretty well but nobody ever went out of their way to make him feel welcome

♡ except for you

♡ you'd always make sure he had something to eat, an umbrella for the sun, and would help him walk if he felt dizzy or couldn't see very well

♡ he couldn't understand why a stranger was being so kind to a monster like him

♡ he was so enamoured with you, it was like you had put a spell on him

♡ thank goodness his shaggy hair covers so much of his face because every time your hands touched when you handed him a snack he'd blush furiously

♡ when you shared an umbrella with him, he was squirming so hard from how happy you made him and how new this feeling was.. you noticed he was walking weird and thought it was due to his condition, not that he was trying to stop himself from bouncing like a puppy every time he walked with you

♡ before the sound of footsteps shook him to his core, now he associates them with you approaching him to tell him about your latest match and he gets 🦋🦋🦋

♡ andrew is a religious man, so he figured you were an angel sent to watch over him

♡ you laughed when he referred to you as an angel but secretly... you didn't mind the name

♡ whatever you were, he felt blessed by your presence and unworthy of your kindness

♡ when he asked why you never degraded him for his condition, you explained that the timeline you were from before reaching the manor is about a hundred years ahead of his so you knew all about albinism, you even had classmates with it

♡ he stared at you in awe and sniffed back tears, thinking about how people like him were able to attend school and make friends

♡ you held his hand when you noticed him battling the urge to cry

♡ he'd never felt such warmth before

♡ andrew was the kindest, most gentle man you've ever met and it felt like daggers to your heart when he told you about how he was tormented his whole life

♡ that was when you kissed him and whispered, cupping his cheek and staring lovingly into his eyes, "it's okay andrew, they're all gone now, we all love you here... i love you,"

♡ he nearly fell off the bench the two of you were sitting on

♡ hearing those words, feeling your warm lips on his icy chapped ones;;;; he pinched his wrist under the assumption he was dreaming

♡ "this can't be real, if it is... she has to be deceiving me... nobody could ever..." poor andrew didn't know he was speaking out loud

♡ you hushed him and pulled him close to you, so close he could feel the heat radiating off your body, and planted a kiss on the crown of his head. "andrew... please don't say that. it's okay if you don't feel the same, but... i want to be yours,"

♡ he stiffened up in your arms and nodded profusely

♡ he was tongue tied, especially when it came to the word love. he's never loved or been loved before this

♡ love was a scary word for him but his nodding told you that he felt the same way, he was happy, he was warm, he wanted more kisses, he wanted you, he loved you

♡ the two of you laid there while you rubbed his back and whispered words of endearment into his ear, he was completely relaxed for the first time in his life

♡ luca and victor passed by you two and victor promptly slipped a coin into luca's pocket

♡ "told ya they were gonna get together eventually," luca snickered before whistling at you two, mortifying you in the process

♡ your relationship is the softest thing ever

♡ andrew loves to hear about the future

♡ even if he's completely lost when you describe video games to him, he cherishes being able to hear you speak about what you're passionate about

♡ plenty of nights he falls asleep to you reading aloud to him, andrew loves to snuggle up to you and nod off to a bedtime story told by his love

♡ he's a very attentive lover, always picking up on what you like and what you don't

♡ dating is a brand new concept to him so there's lots of explanations you have to give, it's all worth it though. andrew is like a puppy around you, he's sooo so so happy and in love

♡ he sometimes feels insecure about holding your hand, especially in the winter, due to how cold he is but you told him he made you feel so warm inside that it cancelled out

♡ that's how you make andrew so flustered he has to hide his face in his hands 101

♡ he's ripped from digging graves all day long and can give you piggyback rides

♡ you beg him to run around with you in his arms but he always refuses, he doesn't wanna drop you

♡ doesn't matter, getting picked up by him and hearing both of you laugh in sync while your legs wiggle in the air is the best part anyways

♡ speaking of his laugh

♡ he'll laugh at whatever joke you tell him, whether he understands it or not

♡ he loves you call you angel, sweetheart, honey, dear... especially like, my dear sweet wonderful y/n the light of my life my angel from above - he thinks the more petnames he stacks, the more love he conveys for you. it gets ridiculous at times

♡ you two never fight and can agree on pretty much everything

♡ the second somebody in the manor makes a joke about you two getting married, he seriously considers it and goes searching for rings

♡ he wants to be with you for the rest of his life 🥺

NSFW ;;

♡ if you thought andrew was inexperienced in relationships, just wait till you want to take things to the next level with him

♡ i feel like he'd know what sex is but only because he was told not to do it before marriage and he knows that it makes babies, he has no idea people do it out of love

♡ he's so affection starved that he gets horny when you do the smallest things

♡ he'd never dare to speak on it though

♡ your clothes dip to reveal your chest or ass and he feels something down there, but he doesn't know what to do about it and feels humiliated

♡ he thinks he's being cursed, he's been too lucky and too happy for far too long

♡ the final straw is when he accidentally opens the door while you're getting changed and he catches a glimpse of your naked body

♡ he's reduced to a trembling mess who can't do anything but palm himself through his cassock

♡ that's when you have to explain to him that he's just horny and there's nothing wrong with sex, even if you aren't married

♡ you emphasize that you'd love to do it with him and you've wanted to for a long time

♡ he trusts you but he's so embarrassed he doesn't know where to start

♡ you start off by slowly undressing him and running your hands all over his body, kissing every scar and praising him endlessly

♡ he's shaking and dripping so much precum with every word of endearment, he's waited so long for this to happen

♡ you sit in his lap and stare into his eyes and he cums before you even get to his lower half

♡ he can't sit up straight and clings to you for support, he's never had any sort of sexual action before and this poor guy is way too sensitive

♡ showing his body to you was scary but with the way you tenderly kissed him and drew circles on his skin with nothing but pure adoration, he realized maybe he wasn't so ugly after all

♡ your first time with him lasts hours and he proposes to you seconds after pulling out because he wants to do that with you everyday from now on without feeling guilty

♡ nobody thought he would have such a high sex drive but he's like a rabbit, he always wants to touch you and make you feel good

♡ he can't initiate things but you can tell by the way he squirms and eyes you when you walk in the room that he's about to explode

♡ those years of isolation did something to him

♡ his favourite activity is when you give him handjobs because he's scared of hurting you somehow, paradise for him is sitting in bed together while you pump his cock and kiss him gently

♡ his hands and fingers are HUGE and super calloused so the friction feels like heaven when he gets the guts to touch you

♡ not to mention his dick is like the eiffel tower, he needs to learn how to use it bcos it is biiig

♡ he's so addicted to the noises and faces you make when you cum, you truly are an angel to him

♡ he loves to go slow and savour every moment, but right before he cums his carnal side comes out and he's like an animal

♡ he goes from soft cries to straight up growling

♡ something unexpected he loves is bath sex

♡ the two of you covered in bubbles in a warm bath getting each other off makes him so happy, especially when you're back from a particularly gruesome match

♡ he'll be extra soft if you have any injuries

♡ andrew is willing to try anything that you want, even if he thinks he won't like it, he wants to make his darling happy

♡ he doesn't like when you bury your face in a pillow or try to hide from him, he wants to see your body in all its glory and worship it like you do his

♡ his moans can get so loud that your neighbours victor and luca have to smack the wall to tell you to quiet down in there

♡ which is pretty unfair since they aren't any quieter either :/

#andrew kreiss imagine #andrew kreiss x reader #andrew kreiss #andrew kreiss smut #idv imagine #idv x reader #identity v imagine #this is so long i got carried away for my boy andrew fjfkdks

[falcons-wings]

an easy mission

sam wilson x reader

summary: the reader gets hurt on a mission where they received bad intel (this is a terrible summary but we move)

warnings: fighting, injuries, blood, swearing, guns, knives (i think that’s it?? pls tell me if there’s anything else)

wc: 1.5k+

masterlist

a/n: i’ve written for quite a few different fandoms but never marvel for some reason idk, but i love this man with all my heart and he does not nearly get the love he deserves so i thought i’d write this little work for him - also i havent written in a while so im rusty so apologies in advance - hope you enjoy :)

This was meant to be an easy mission. A nice break from all the stress, fighting and pain you had been experiencing recently since you started working with Sam and Bucky. You had even been sent in on your own to where the target was supposed to be whilst the boys kept watch because it was, as Sam so incorrectly said, “a simple in and out job”.

You had decided it was not a simple in and out job.

The target you had to extract was only meant to have two of his men guarding him, hence the easy part of the job, but the twelve guys who were now all either pointing guns at you or in fighting stances, proved that information very wrong.

It didn’t take long for all hell to break loose - there were gunshots flying everywhere as you began taking out some of the men closest to you. You threw a couple of knives from your harness at two of the men who had guns, not even looking to see if they had hit the mark (but you knew they did - you never missed) before running at the guy closest to you. A swift kick to his stomach followed by an elbow to the face was all it took to for him to go down, allowing you to focus on the other guys now approaching you - and a couple more knives were thrown in succession, getting rid of all but one of the shooters before you engaged in hand to hand combat with two of the assailants.

“Y/n? Is everything alright in there?” Sam’s voice spoke through the comm.

“Oh, everything’s just peachy Sam, I just want to say-“ You felt a sharp pain in your abdomen, interrupting your train of thought and speech, but your momentary pause cost you when one of the guys you were fighting got lucky with a hit to your face. Annoyed that you had let down your guard and most likely had a broken nose now, you kicked your leg out towards his shin and as he tripped slightly, you elbowed him in the gut and pulled his arm down as you rolled towards the floor, flipping him over so his front collided with the ground hard enough to knock him unconscious.

You turned your attention back to the remaining assailants when you registered Sam shouting your name over the comms.

“What Sam? I’m a little busy.”

“You stopped mid sentence I thought something had happened, we were about to come and see if you needed help.” You could hear the worry in his voice but the stubborn part of you still refused to ask for help from them even though they were your friends and you knew they wouldn’t think any less of you.

“No it’s all good here, I was just going to say that we’re never listening to your informant ever again and if we do, you’re getting sent into the hideout.”

“What? Why?”

“Well it turns out the two guys guarding the target,” you tackled the last armed guy to the ground, stabbing him in the chest in the process before getting back up and approaching the last couple of people left, “was actually twelve so I’ve not been having the best time here.”

“Shit. We’re coming in.” You could hear him saying something to Bucky but you didn’t care as this was when you noticed the original target was no longer in your sight, only two very angry looking dudes.

“No I’ve got this handled, but I’ve lost the target - he must’ve got away whilst I was distracted. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise y/n, Barnes is going to get the target and I’m coming to you.”

Before you could respond to him, the last two guys came charging at you. You ducked underneath the arm of one, dodging the knife he had trained on you, and kicked him in the back with enough force that he fell to the floor and didn’t get back up. This left only one who swung at your face, which you sidestepped out the way of, but unfortunately failed to see him swing his leg out to kick you in the stomach. You stepped back, doubled over in pain for a moment, but quickly recovered and took out the last knife from your harness, throwing it at his chest with perfect accuracy as he made another approach at you.

The body fell to the floor just as you heard loud footsteps running into the room behind you. Still on high alert you spun to fight this next person but instead relaxed when you saw Sam run into the room and stop in his tracks when he looked at you.

“I did say I had it handled.” You smiled smugly at him, ignoring the stab of pain from your nose at the movement, but the smile quickly faded when he still didn’t say anything, not even one of his normal comebacks.

“What? Is there something wrong?”

He shook his head slightly and began walking slowly towards you, “Y/n, you’re bleeding. We need to get you help.”

“It’s just a broken nose Sam, trust me I’ve survived worse.”

He was right in front of you now, his dark eyes conveying so much worry as he looked you over more closely. “No y/n, we need to get you to a hospital.”

You didn’t get what he was on about until he angled his head at your stomach, where you could now see the bullet wound you must’ve received in the mess of the fight bleeding profusely.

“Oh. Well that’s not ideal.”

You stumbled slightly as you started registering the pain you were in, the adrenaline from the fight beginning to wear off now. Sam was quick to steady you with his arms, and the concern on his face, his concern for you, warmed your heart a little even amidst the pain.

He manoeuvred you to the floor to rest whilst he spoke to Bucky over the comms to update him on the situation, and it might’ve been the blood loss speaking but you couldn’t help but think to yourself that he looked even more attractive than normal. He raised an eyebrow at you when he caught you staring, and quickly shaking the thoughts out of your head you began speaking.

“I’m sorry, I fucked up, I didn’t want to call for back up so you would know I can handle things and then I lost the target and then apparently got injured in the mess. All in all not my best mission, so I’m sorry.”

He shook his head at you, crouching down in front of you, “No y/n, you have absolutely nothing to apologise for. This is 100% on me and I’m so so sorry - I hate to see you get hurt, and that’s exactly what happened here.”

“How’s it on you?”

“It was my informant who gave the wrong information which I believed without confirming it, and then you went in here with no back up. You could’ve died y/n. I- No, we, can’t handle another loss, especially if it was you, you mean too much to Bucky and I now.” He looked down at his hands, avoiding your eyes, “I’ll do better next time.”

You hated how sad and broken he looked as he admitted this to you, and bad injuries or not, you were having none of his wallowing today. “Listen to me here Samuel Wilson - you are not to blame for this, sometimes there is bad intel and that’s just something we have to deal with. And if you will not let me blame myself for anything that’s gone wrong today then I ban you from thinking the same about yourself okay?”

He finally looked up at you to see the sincerity in your eyes and gave a small smile, “Okay.”

“I hate to break up the moment,” you both sat up quickly, ready to fight, to see Bucky approaching the two of you and dragging the target behind him, “but we need to get you to a hospital and this guy to a cell.”

“That might be a good idea as my vision is starting to go a little blurry.”

“Shit, okay, I’m gonna pick you up is that alright?” Sam asked, only needing a nod from you before you were in his arms bridal style and following Bucky out of the building.

As you approached the vehicle you were using, you poked Sam’s cheek to get his attention.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt either by the way, you mean too much to me as well.”

His eyes shined as he looked down at you, but his attention was quickly caught by Bucky muttering under his breath “God, just kiss already, you two make me feel sick.”

You huffed a laugh, ignoring your own blushing cheeks, and instead looked at Sam who had his own red cheeks and was now glaring at Bucky with a look, that if it could, would kill him.

He soon gave up with glaring at his friend, and instead looked down at you with a small, possibly hopeful smile on his face that you readily returned.

#I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO POST THIS FOR OVER A DAY WHY DOES THIS SITE HATE ME?????? #also it is very on brand for me for my first work in a fandom to be a fic where someone gets hurt #some say i should go to therapy but i say writing does the job almost as well :) #falcons-wings #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes #anthony mackie #tfatws #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes x reader #mcu imagine #sam wilson imagine #james buchanan barnes #sambucky #sam wilson fic

[endlessymphony]

in another lifetime, i will love you again.

harry potter x reader

summary - (based on a request that i altered) reader unfortunately is injured and passes away in the wizarding war— but before they do, harry reminisces on all the memories he has with them

warnings - tw for death, injuries, war, blood, existential questioning, loss of a loved one, heart wrenching pain.

a/n - i am going to bawl my eyes out. (update; i bawled when it was finished.)

the air was thick, heavy. the smell of sulfur and smoke seemed to linger whilst the nearly black storm clouds swirled up above. the sky, or at least what was visible of it, was grey and sunless. the dark mark no longer hangs heavily amongst the clouds, as the death-eaters had long retreated, but not without leaving a mess first.

you had always been apprehensive about hogwarts, ever since your first day of first year. a bad gut feeling, some would call it, but you ignored it the best you could and learned to call the castle a home away from home, perhaps even a sanctuary. but all you felt now was the stone ground beneath you, the cool breeze nipping at your exposed skin.

your breaths were shaky, unstable. hot tears pricked at your eyes as you stared up all the bleak sky, the voices around you muffled by the high-pitched ringing that tormented your ears, head feeling heavy- full, like you were weighed down with rocks. wreckage filled the courtyard in the form of stray bricks, broken glass, and bodies- your’s soon to join them.

blood steadily dripped down the side of your face, pooling underneath you, starting to dry in your hair- but that wouldn’t matter soon enough. you had been crushed by falling debris, pinned down by what used to be the west wall of the courtyard. from that moment on, any person would understand, and accept, that it was likely their time to go.

you wonder if anyone knew you would all be saying goodbye for the last time? you didn't wake up this morning thinking that you would be laying in a pool of your own blood, but you suppose that life works in mysterious ways. death would be sweet relief, a kiss that would take away all the pain and take you by the hand far, far away from here.

“humans, if nothing else, have the good sense to die.”

we live for destruction, devouring any chance to be in power like a pack of starved dogs. children build sand castles just to knock them down, and men start wars to quench their thirst for blood. they think they’re running at each other, but they run directly into the face of death. what does death look like? not a skeleton, or a tall figure with a scythe and a void for a face, instead- death looks like all of us, as we are all capable of it.

the ground rumbled underneath you, footsteps, was the best guess that you could come up with. “y/n! oh, fuck. fuck!” that was harry’s voice, full of panic. well, guess the situation was a lot worse than you originally thought. he dropped to his knees beside you, trying to dig you out from the wreckage, bruising his hands in the process. “harry.” your voice was hoarse, he turned to with fear in his face, eyes already filling with tears.

you gave him a sympathetic look, “my love.” your throat was dry, you tried to swallow, wincing in pain- your saliva tasting metallic. you coughed, whole chest rattling as harry scooted over to rest your head on his legs, brushing hair out of your face. “y/n…”

“that’s my name, don’t wear it out.” a weak smile made its way onto your face, “i don’t think i’ll make it, harry.” a tear slips down the side of your face, finding a new home in your hairline near your ear. “you.” he started, struggling to find the words. “you can’t say that, no, you can’t say that.” he looks around, frantic, trying to see if he can wave someone down to help.

“harry. look at me.” you tried to laugh, but just ended up sputtering and coughing into your arm, blood dotting your sleeve. “i can’t feel my legs, merlin, i can’t feel nothin’.” you reached up to grab his face, hands shaking as you smoothed your cool fingertips against his hot face. a teardrop ran down his cheek, the first of many that would follow.

“but you need to survive.” harry began to sob, “what… what am i supposed to do without you?” his words were slurred. sentences seeming reduced to just one long, unintelligible word. “live.” you reply simply, attempting to bring your arms back down but harry holds your hands in his, keeping them against his cheeks. “you live, harry, for me.” “but what is life without you? all my best memories include you.”

“tell me…” you cough again, blood staining your lips a deep crimson. “can you talk about those memories? help me relive ‘em?” he nodded, chewing at his bottom lip.

“the first time i saw you, y/n, i was dumbfounded. you had me absolutely speechless, i knew i loved you then and there.” he smoothed over your cheek with his thumb, brushing away some of the dirt. you stifle a chuckle, “don’t give me an ego.” “i’m not kidding!” harry protests, “truly, you were the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen.”

“let’s see what else… the yule ball. merlin, you looked incredible. we had such an amazing time dancing, i bet we looked absolutely ridiculous- but that was the best time that i ever had.” he chuckles, looking down at you. you had shut your eyes, listening to his voice- it was like liquid morphine, coursing through your veins and removing the pain. “can you tell me about our first date?”

“yeah, yeah.” he stumbled over his words, putting your arms back down to cross over your chest, so that you weren’t wasting energy holding them up. “i think that was the nicest weather that hogwarts has ever had, don’t you agree? or maybe it was just you who made the sun shine brighter, and the breeze a little sweeter.” harry leaned over to press a kiss to your temple, “it was the perfect day to lounge by the lake, getting sick off of sweets and laughing until our stomachs ached so badly, we could barely stand.” you struggled to keep your eyes open, every moment a fight against the darkness, and you were finally beginning to lose.

“harry, do you think that we’ll meet again in another life?” you were curious- childlike innocence dripping from your lips like venom, making it all the harder for harry to understand that he would no longer have you, or hold you. “i think we will, y/n.” he sniffled, finding himself awfully choked up as he attempted to hold back the tears again. “maybe.. maybe we’ll be married, have kids, be a family. what do you think?”

“you know i love you, y/n, right?”

“i love you too, harry.”

and that was it. the world fading to black. there was no longer a fight, only the sweetness of relief. death had embraced you into its arms, holding you, you found home- the one that had been waiting for your return since the moment you were born, counting down the years. months. days. hours. minutes. seconds. and it welcomed you home with open arms. there was no blinding light, no guardian angel sweeping you off of your feet and carrying you away, just nothingness. a comfortable nothingness.

why are people so afraid of death? is it just mostly a fear of the unknown? humans are curious by nature, and most can’t help but wondering ‘what comes next?’, sometimes the answer is not entirely clear. it’s murky, and distorted, almost like looking at your reflection in a puddle. if you are always afraid of death, you will never learn to live.

your body went limp, eyes stuck half-lidded as you made your ascent to the afterlife. harry sobbed violently, whole body shaking as he screamed to the sky, begging the universe for you back- another chance, another lifetime, an alternate timeline where the two of you could still be one. his throat felt raw, air tasting metallic- just as you had tasted earlier.

the universe did not listen.

it did not bring you back, no matter how hard he begged, nothing could.

he cradled your head to his chest, your voice ringing through his head.

‘i love you too.’

“in another lifetime, i promise we’ll make more memories, y/n. and, i promise that this time i’ll actually protect you.“ harry’s chest shook with each sob, shoulders hunched over and tense, your blood staining his shirt, and the ground below you.

“in another lifetime, i will love you again.”

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#Snippet 3 (Part 1)

Part 2

TW: Torture, blood, drug, violence, graphic injuries, restraints

“Tell us everything you know about him and we’ll let you go, unharmed.”

She remained silent, her gaze fixed at the floor.

“We’re giving you your last chance to cooperate with us before we resort to a different means of interrogation.”

Still silent. She knew why he was doing all this. She even insisted on helping him with some parts too. Not because she was his lover, no. But because she had also lost faith in what the heroes called justice, helping the weak, keeping the city safe and so on. She knew why Villain was doing all this. And nowhere in her right mind would she sell him out. Never.

“Sir, there is still no sign of cooperation. Should we move on to the next phase?” the man questioning her made a call. “Yes, sir. Yes, I understand.” He put down the phone and walked to a drawer at the far corner of the white room. Bracing herself for whatever she was about to go through, her heart started palpitating at the sight of a syringe filled with a bloody red substance. She was half relieved that they weren’t going to use physical methods for she wasn’t too good at coping with pain. And messing with her mind? They would have to use something even stronger to break the already devastated and shattered state she was in. Though, who knew how bad that crimson liquid can be? Looking down again, this time at her cuffed hands, she tried to even out her heart rate. Everything was going to be okay. One deep breath in. Just then, the cell door opened as two guards walked in and before she knew it, her head was slammed down onto the table in front of her.

“You get your hands OFF of me-” she yelled, kicking and thrashing against the firm hands on her head and shoulders.

“Oh, finally opening that little mouth of yours?” the man with the syringe smirked as he came closer, giving a wide, almost creepy, grin. “But it’s too late now,” and there went the needle straight up her neck. She gritted her teeth, trying not to screech at both the jolt of cold and the pain. Her body was all tensed up as she felt a rush of heat enveloping her body. The first wave of shock wasn’t over yet when she was suddenly pulled back by her hair, retching at the punch directly at her stomach and the next second with a gag in her mouth. Just a little pain. This was nothing and she could still take it. 

The man that injected her sneered, signaling the two guards to take her off the chair and chain her hands up on the wall. And by now, that flaming substance that was shot into her a while ago had started to take effect, starting with chills down her spine and soon turning into shivers. Her eyes blurred and the figures in front of her seemed to crash and fuse into one. She was now a muddled mess, unable to form even a single coherent thought.

But that was not the worst part. The pain from that punch earlier had started growing more immense as she felt like her insides were boiling and thousands of needles were prickling her guts. Her eyes flew wide open and she was gasping for air and at the same time trying to crouch in pain, her entire body writhing vigorously.

“Willing to speak now you little brat?” the man strode in her direction, his hands playing with a knife. She shook her head weakly, fighting against both the pain piercing her stomach and the throbbing pain splitting open her head. “Oh, you seem persistent,” he frowned, gliding the blade slowly from her stomach up to her throat. She could feel the cold of the metal blade sending goosebumps all over her, making her heart sink at the thought of whatever was going to happen to her next. She couldn’t utter a sound for her throat was desert-dry nor stand properly as her legs had given out on her long ago. The man with the knife abruptly grabbed her jaw, forcing her teary eyes to meet his narrow eyes. “Let us see how long I can play with you,” he snarled. And the next moment, she was screaming voicelessly through the gag as the blade left a nice cut on her waist, blood slowly dying her shirt crimson. The cut itself wasn’t deep, but the drug exacerbated the pain a million times worse.

The girl was now panicking, tears falling down her bruised cheeks. The pain, suffocation, blurriness, muddled mind, and everything else- it felt like the world went crashing down on her. Every second passed, her heart sank even deeper, causing a hysteria of fear and anxiety that really didn’t have an origin.

But she still refused to let out a single word about Villain.

#villain x civilian #villain #civilian #tw blood #violence #drug #tw restraints #torture #whump #whumper #whumpee #snippet #writers block