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ilkkawhat · 11 months

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[Nick Stokes/Reader | 1,723 words | also on ao3 here | I have some of the best inspiring dreams ever, and a couple days ago I had one about a whumped Nick, though there's actually only a few things I took out of it to write this.]

You’ve been in this store before, although you really haven’t been.

“Attention shoppers.”

And you’ve never been in any store past closing, let alone, with all the lights off.

“Attention shoppers.”

You feel like there’s too much space between the aisles, and though the parking lot was scarce you can’t help but feel like someone will emerge from the shadows.

Or come up behind you, as goosebumps tickle your neck.

“Attention shoppers.”

You know better though, having been called here as back-up to investigate a live crime scene, that the owners of those lone cars will never drive them again.

There’s one shopper left in the store however, and you and Grissom are heading straight towards the fast paced rickety cart wheels swimming through the darkness.

“Attention…shooooooppppppppers.”

The automated intercom call warbles out, having been looped likely not on purpose but rather a side effect of the supposed employee that was butchered and fell on top of the controls, according to the account given over the dispatch call.

You also know that Nick Stokes was in this store when it happened. He was assigned to this case first, when it was just a petty burglary before it became a massacre.

Desperately, you want to call out to him. You already tried texting him, and got no response. From a tactical standpoint, the element of surprise is more apropos in this situation but your heart doesn’t give a damn. You just want to see Nick.

And you do see him, when your flashlight passes over the aisle of canned goods.

He’s there, on the floor. Face down. His face striped with blood. Cans are littered around him and one is broken near his head.

“Nick!” you gasp, and run over. His body rises and falls ever so slightly, and he softly wheezes as you kneel next to him, wiping strands of hair out of the way of fluttering eyes and your shaking fingers are becoming sticky with the blood pouring out of the pulsing wound on his forehead.

“Help….her…” he whispers to you in a strangled voice. His eyes roll behind their lids, falling victim to a void of consciousness.

Grissom, who was standing nearby during this time, transfers a bit of the radiation of his concern with a hand to your shoulder, in agreement to Nick’s request.

“We need to move,” Grissom tells you. “I think he’s close.”

“Uh-huh,” you nod shakily, and become Grissom’s heel, after quickly taking your gun out because Grissom doesn’t have his; just a flashlight and a white knuckled fist.

The chase continues down another long, dark aisle but the sound of squeaky wheels carrying weak-wired mesh grows louder. Your heart pounds harder, and faster.

You turn back to look at Nick, and in those few seconds you somehow lose sight of Grissom.

Swearing under your breath, you pick up the pace and quickly shake your head between the rows, finding nothing but fallen items and shadows of fellow officers, but you nearly run into the sliding door that leads out into the garden section of the store.

“So…what are you making?” Grissom’s voice, a disguised disgust with equal intrigue, per his norm of course but you wince as you worry he’s getting too close to the killer—

“Soup,” a strange voice answers simply. “You see my ingredients in the cart here…”

Speak of the devil, the killer is still shopping and throwing items into his cart…

That’s carrying a hopefully unconscious and not dead woman, her arms and legs hanging outside of the cart with various vegetables and meats and packets of flavoring and for some odd reason, large sacks of soil on top. She has a similar wound to Nick’s on her head, though you have no time to wonder what a Nick-flavored soup would have tasted like, as the conversation that you stopped paying attention to goes south, and both the killer and Grissom are suddenly gone—

You whip your head and hear splashes of water, your flashlight locates the source of the struggle below, in a large display of filled ponds and pools for backyard enjoyment, Grissom wrestles the killer and your instinct should tell you to either jump in and help, or draw your weapon and fire but—

BANG-BANG!

Grissom stops and you see the shock on his face in the handheld spotlight that traces the trajectory of the bullets that pinned the killer into the water, and also punctured the walls of the pool that drains away.

Catherine stands breathless, a wordless exchange with Grissom and a side glance to you, freeing you from obligation as they begin to talk out loud—

“I’m going to check on Nicky,” you tell them, and run back towards the love of your life.

The main aisle seems longer than ever, the lights are flickering on and the eerie silence is replaced with chatter, radio chirps, and distant sirens that give you and odd sense of relief—you’re near the end of the story, the day is saved and more importantly—Nick is safe, for the second time in a far too short of time and this time it’s not dirt you’re sliding on to comfort him, but harsh, unforgiving lamination that you know you’ll feel in your knees later.

“Nicky, I’m back, she’s safe…” you half-lie because shit, you forgot to check on that victim and instead chose this one, but you do hear calls for an ambulance to take her.

You tap his cheeks, clammy and pale and still sticky. He’s not responding, and your heart stops beating. You look around the aisle, a halted shopping cart happens to have a case of water that you cut into, and pour onto Nick as if it’ll bring him to life—fortunately, it works; he sputters and rolls over onto his side, propping himself up and you sigh in relief.

“What happened?” a new voice asks, feminine and Sofia’s behind you, ready to relay anything you tell her to the rest of the team.

“We found the perp, and the victim. Cath got him after he tussled with Grissom. Nick here, well…I don’t…” you start bumbling your words, Nick scrunches his face and wipes blood out of his eyes.

“I tried to stop him,” he says in a strained voice, one arm cradles his stomach. “Asshole rammed me with that damn cart and a stupid can fell on my head…”

Nervously, you mutter, “Guess you really got cantripped, huh?” in attempt to lighten the mood. You’re not sure if Nick actually heard it.

“Heard you were the one who caught him in the act, that true?” Sofia asks. Nick nods and your heart pangs. As if the both of you don’t see enough dead horrors as it is, it’s harder to witness live ones.

“Found him cause he was the only guy who didn’t run out of the store when I triggered the alarm.”

“Alarm? There’s nothing ringing…”

“Yeah, cause I used that intercom to tell everyone to evacuate,” Nick clears his throat and adds a bit of deep authority to his voice, “‘Attention shoppers, please get the hell out of the store if you want to stay alive.’”

You can’t help but laugh, “You did not!”

“Course I did. How else would you get the shoppers out?” Nick almost smiles himself, before he reigns himself in. “That’s when the bullet hit the poor John that fell onto the panel, and I took off towards it.”

You stare daggers into Nick’s avoiding gaze, both admiring his bravery but admonishing his stupidity for running towards danger. But he’ll get that earful later. Or sooner, as Sofia puts away her notepad.

“Thanks, Nick. I’m gonna check in with Gil and Catherine. Make sure you get checked out, okay?” Sofia raises her eyebrows and points at Nick’s forehead.

“I’m fine,” Nick waves off.

“You’re not!” you harshly whisper as Sofia walks away. “The hell were you thinking, running towards the gunfire?”

“It’s our job, baby,” Nick tells you.

“Nuh-uh, their job,” you point to the uniformed officers. “We’re supposed to come after.”

“But, they can’t always—”

“Neither can you!” you interrupt. You stand up and Nick takes the opportunity to pull your arm and lift himself up with you.

“Alright, alright, I get it…”

“I don’t think you do, but before we lay this to rest…what if a bullet hits you?”

“Then I’ll just walk it off, like I’m walking this cantripped bullshit off.”

“You’re not invincible.”

“I know that,” Nick tone become sour and frustrated and you feel his muscles tense up. “And you know that I’m damn well aware of that, too.”

You sigh, but notice that he isn’t shrugging you off just yet. You can see a shimmer in his eyes and feel a wave of guilt wash over you.

He’s hurt more than he’s willing to admit.

I wasn’t strong enough, you remember the broken words amidst tears that fell onto your chest, soaking into your clothes.

You know it’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than a small head wound for him to get to that point again, but feel the need to comfort and lighten the mood nonetheless.

"You know…it’s a good thing you shaved that stache," you say, once again stroking loose strands of hair out of his reddened, dampened eyes. "Make you look like you're a redhead, at least in facial hair."

"Well, I am attracted to redheads..." Nick smiles coyly and you playfully swat his chest, before he reels you in for a tight hug.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispers.

“It’s okay. I know you don’t give up that easily,” you tell him with a soft kiss to the side of his face.

“And neither do you,” he reminds you with a kiss of his own.

You both stand there for a solid minute of silence, and you lean further in, but the slight movement of your body seems to scare him, and he somehow grips you tighter.

“Don’t let go,” he asks of you. “Don’t let go, please…”

“I made that promise to you a long time ago, Nick. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he tells you, and he takes you out of the almost nightmarish, liminal dreamscape into the best fantasy you could ever dream of.

#nick stokes #nick stokes x reader #reader fic #sorry i like to see you suffer nick #mk.op #mk.fic #i don't often do reader fic but i figured this dream specifically would work for it #though again only like 2% of this came from the dream #i'm also still working on that ghost!nick/greg fic but it's nice to do something short and sweet i guess

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aeor-is-for-reccing · 1 year

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Hidden Gems: A Shadowgast Rec List

This week, we have one of our recurring themes: fics with fewer than 150 kudos! Check under the cut for twenty fics that are beloved, but you might have missed the first time around:

Another Time, Another Place by Operafloozy (9780, Teen) Warnings: none Essek discovers the key to time travel. Bren discovers the key to time travel soon after. They start a time war. Reccer says: It's a great enemies to lovers fic, epistolary fic, and weird time travel shenanigans fic all in one. It's based on This is How You Lose the Time War, but you don't have to know anything about it to make sense.

I Have Blood On My Hands And A Smile On My Face by Professor_Rye (5836, Explicit) Warnings: Dead-Dove, Graphic Amputation, Torture, Hurt no Comfort Essek and Caleb get captured by a rogue Volstrucker who proceeds to torture them. Reccer says: It's intense, it's dark, it hurts, it's bloody... The whole whump experience dialed up to a hundred. If you're in the mood for something on the more extreme end of the spectrum that is very well written, this is your fic.

Dream a Little Dream of Me by CatgirlTheCrazy (2258, General) Warnings: None Essek uses the Dream spell to spend time with Caleb, even while they're apart Reccer says: Nothing

let the earth humble you withal by essektheylyss (midnightindigo) (13777, Mature) Warnings: None A ghost story: In his grief following Caleb’s death, Essek summons an old familiar. It does not come alone. Reccer says: A heart-wrenching exploration of grief.

something so precious about this by ThatFanwriter2424 (1684, General) Warnings: None It's valentines day and Essek has a gift for Caleb Reccer says: It's so sweet

Of Constellations and Freckles by Professor_Rye (100, General) Warnings: None Essek's love of Caleb's freckles Reccer says: Nothing

blood and bond by royalgreen (allyoop) (2069, Teen) Warnings: None Caleb is dying from a curse and Essek is desperate to save him Reccer says: It's very ambiguous but the emotions and vibes are immaculate regardless. An impressive and wonderful balance

desire, fulfilled by burningafterdark (burningdarkfire) (8809, Explicit) Warnings: Mind the tags and author's note: Extremely dubious consent typical of pon farr/heatfic Essek becomes dangerously insatiable when he undergoes his drow mating cycle while visiting Caleb. Reccer says: Hot and incredibly unsettling, with a mounting horror through the final line.

SA 4301: Advanced Transmutation, Excerpt Recorded 9th Horisal 1152 PD with Guest Lecturer: E. Widogast, Arch.M by soot_and_salt (1231, Teen) Warnings: Grief A transcript of Essek giving a lecture about what makes a great wizard, according to his late husband, Caleb Widogast Reccer says: There is so much love and adoration in Essek's tone and words, and the worldbuilding and setting is phenomenal

i'm really not so with you anymore (i'm just a ghost) by flashhwing (4104, Mature) Warnings: Essek is dead Essek Dies. Caleb keeps on seeing his ghost. Reccer says: It's haunting and beautiful; a wonderful depiction of grief with a side of spookiness. The art is amazing, too

The Thumping in My Chest by GayAssWizard (5309, Explicit) Warnings: None Caleb gets Essek a special surprise and then edges him with it. T4T Shadowgast with some light D/s. Reccer says: Essek drunk on pleasure is Best Essek.

Tooth of Zehir by witches_chant (17359, Mature) Warnings: Nope This fic happens in an alternative reality where the war between the Empire and the Dynasty was not prevented. Essek fled to a castle at the end of the world and has stayed hidden and alone for a very long time. One day Bren finds him, a pathetic shade of a man, feral and hungry, and an enemies to friends to lovers story begins. Reccer says: All the wumptober prompts give theme to the chapters in a neat way. The vibes are gothic and melancholic with the raging storm outside and the careful contact between the two men.

to take off the mask by KmacKatie (2560, Mature) Warnings: No major archive warnings, however it could be read as mildly dubious consent When your face is not your own, are you still you underneath it? A moment in a tavern where Essek is contemplating the loss that morphs over time and the lingering effects it can have on a soul. Reccer says: It's a short exploration about identity and disconnecting from yourself after having to hide who you are fundamentally from those around you. It's angst-adjacent, with some heavy implications wrapped up in a deep understanding of the other.

You Mean The Worm To Me by GoldenEyeWitch (2318, General) Warnings: None Feel-good fluff about a polymorph gone wrong. Reccer says: The situational comedy, the dynamics between the characters and the general premise. It's a perfect little pick-me-up story on a rainy day.

Series of Smaller Adventures by 2manyboys (3576, Teen) Warnings: None Caleb returns home after a long day. Essek is waiting for him. Reccer says: It is so soft and cozy and as sweet as these two can be together, like a warm blanket.

The Heat Between by Ahmose_Inarus (8221, Not Rated) Warnings: None Essek teleports to Caleb's home during a blizzard. Caleb massages him to relax his tense muscles and, well, we all know what happens when characters give each other massages in fanfiction. Reccer says: You can tell that Essek is already quite comfortable in Caleb's cottage and I find that to be a cute detail. I also love Caleb thoroughly teasing Essek and drawing out the encounter.

a healer's gift by toneofjoy (7280, General) Warnings: None One of Caleb's cats fall suddenly ill and he seeks help from a druid healer to find the cause. Reccer says: This is the best of outsider pov fic looking at shadowgast from the perspective of one of Caleb's (well, really both of theirs) cats. It's adorable, and there are some really sweet moments.

As per my last email by LivThael (11651, Explicit) Warnings: None Caleb and Essek annoy each other with emails at work. They solve their professional dispute in a storage closet after a party. Reccer says: Nothing

jealousy by mllekurtz (1724, Explicit) Warnings: no archive warnings, but it does have consensual non-consent Essek sleeps with someone else to further his goals. Bren is into it. Reccer says: This fic is incredibly hot and does a lot with a shorter word count. It's the delicious morally-grey brenessek flavour that I love, with some sharp and interesting insights into not-love but the closest thing two it that these two are capable of in the moment. Very delicious!

Daughter of the Burning Stars by Chaotic_Lesbianstringworm (928, General) Warnings: None Caleb and Essek celebrate the birth of their daughter. Reccer says: It's very sweet, extremely soft, and gives good gender feelings.

All recs are made by members of Aeor is For Lovers, an 18+ Shadowgast discord. Have any questions? Check out the FAQ. You can also join the discord here, or check out our previous list of Hidden Gems recs here.

Check back next week, when we'll have recs for current WIPs!

#Critical Role #Shadowgast #essek thelyss #Caleb Widogast #Fic Recs #cr fic rec #Critical Role Fic

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whump-me · 7 months

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Whumptober Day 8: Outnumbered

This is a standalone story in my original Mind Games universe, a modern-day sci-fi/fantasy thriller setting about ordinary humans with superhuman abilities and the people who want to use or destroy them. Full description in my Whumptober masterpost, which is linked in my pinned post.

This story contains: rescue, lab whump mentions, minor whumpees (no onscreen minor whump)

Words: 3400

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Max didn’t go hiking. In fact, as a general rule, he strove to spend as little time in the great outdoors as possible. Out here in the woods in the middle of nowhere, with the trees stretching up so thickly around him that he couldn’t see the sun, he remembered why.

The woods smelled like a compost heap. He sneezed and rubbed his nose on his jacket sleeve. So much for covert. Movement flickered at the corner of his eye, and he tensed and reached for his weapon. A deer bounded away from him like it was the one who had reason to be afraid. Freaking Bambi was going to give him a heart attack before he did what he had come here to do.

If the plans he’d gotten his hands on were accurate, this place wasn’t as off the grid as it looked like. Not by a long shot. Somewhere under his feet was a high-tech PERI facility, part of their breeding programs. Most of that stuff happened in their headquarters or their large and secretive science facility, but this was some kind of special offshoot. A smaller experiment. Stronger powers. Or at least that was what PERI was hoping for.

Max supposed if he were growing a bunch of kids with volatile mental abilities, he’d want to do it out in the middle of nowhere, too.

But it sure did look like the middle of nowhere out here. He didn’t even see the tree that was supposed to show him the way—the one with the green triangle painted on the bark, like a hiking marker. Maybe they had changed the marker since those plans were drawn up.

Or maybe he was in the wrong place, and it really was just him and the deer out here, wasting an afternoon.

Another flicker of movement. This time, it wasn’t Bambi.

He drew his pistol and put two holes in the man’s chest before the man could empty his machine gun into Max. The birds fell silent at the sound. For a few seconds, the forest was dead silent.

Then a rustling from his right. Footsteps. He spun in time to drop a second man wearing the same gray uniform as the first.

He knew that uniform. They were PERI, all right.

He waited, pistol raised. No more footsteps.

It looked like they’d only had the two guards outside. Probably weren’t expecting visitors way out here.

So much for the others’ warnings that he shouldn’t come alone. Not that he would have had to come alone if any of them had agreed to join him.

They would rather have wasted the information, and left the experimental subjects to suffer. Because there were higher priorities. Because it was too risky.

Fuck that.

He pulled the uniform off one of the dead guards. He buried his own clothes under a pile of dead leaves and slid the uniform on instead and slid the man’s ID into his pocket, wincing at the feel of someone else’s blood—still warm—against his chest.

If the others had come with him, they might have been able to shut down the security. As it was, the best he could hope for was that the uniform would fool whoever was assigned to watch the cameras.

There wasn’t much he could do about the blood. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be looking that closely.

He walked in the direction the first guard had come from. And wouldn’t you know it, there was the tree, with the green triangle just above eye level in faded paint.

He stood for a moment with his hand on the bark, orienting himself. He eyed the forest floor in front of him, superimposing the map he had memorized over the bed of fallen leaves. If this was the entrance, then the dorms would be… right about there.

And according to the schedule that had accompanied the plans, this was a rest period. The kids were confined to their dorm. The guards took a lunch break or had a smoke. The science staff worked on whatever they were working on when they weren’t poking and prodding the kids. Growing the next generation in their petri dishes, Max guessed.

He brought his hand up until the rough bark turned smooth and elastic under his fingers. He pressed down. The small circle of fake bark that was embedded into the trunk sank in. Below him, he heard a grinding noise.

A section of the forest floor slid aside. In its place was a driveway sloping down, lit by those monster-eye-yellow lights that always made parking garages feel like such a good place to be murdered.

The birds had gone silent again.

The car was waiting a little ways off, where the dirt road had finally ended. The keys were still in the ignition. Even if everything went according to plan, subtlety would be out the window by the time he left the facility, and it would be too easy for them to shoot his tires out. Better to get out on foot and use the trees as cover until they could make it to the car.

He hoped.

This would have been so much easier if only anyone else had agreed to help.

He sauntered down the driveway like he was supposed to be there. He spotted the camera quickly, and angled his bloody chest away from its eye. The shadows of the wood receded, replaced by the unnatural yellow glow of the lights. It smelled damp and stale down here, like a basement that had flooded months ago and still hadn’t totally aired out.

And he had thought the woods gave him the shivers.

No alarms went off. Nobody stopped him. When he passed another guard, he angled his chest away until the other man had passed. The man didn’t even slow down to look at him.

Maybe it really was going to be this easy.

And the others had said it wasn’t worth the risk. He’d have a great big I-told-you-so for them when he got back, that was for sure.

He let the map in his head guide him down a long hallway. The hallway was gray and narrow, and felt like it got narrower with every step. He felt like he was in a zombie movie. All that was necessary to complete the scene was the sound of distant moans. But the place was silent except for his own footsteps. It felt abandoned. Like a nuclear bunker after the threat had passed.

The least these people could have done was stick a few potted plants around the place. Maybe put up a motivational poster or two.

The isolation was getting to him. Normally he had Jackson by his side, struggling to maintain radio silence when everyone knew all he wanted to do was crack a corny joke. Or Tasha, hurrying up ahead with her hand on her weapon like she was just itching for an enemy to pop out of a doorway and give her a bit of target practice. Or Asher, hanging back, face flushed and sweaty as he tried unsuccessfully to hide his nerves.

Funny. He had always thought he’d be the type to work better alone. He chafed at taking orders, resented needing to coordinate with his teammates instead of doing what needed to be done.

He hadn’t realized how crushing the silence would feel. He hadn’t bargained for the sensation of the air pressing in on him from all sides, like eyes watching him from every angle. Like he was the only person left in the universe who wasn’t the enemy.

He ignored all the doors but one. The one at the very end of the hallway. It was as anonymous as the others—no labels, no windows.

According to his map, this was the main dorm.

He placed a hand on his weapon, just in case.

He unlocked the door with his ID. Then he eased it quietly open. He didn’t want to spook them. He was wearing the uniform of their captors, after all.

The room was just like the plans showed. Six bunk beds, twelve beds total. What he hadn’t expected was that the kids weren’t really kids. Teenagers, more like it, or near enough. This place must have been in operation longer than he thought.

A couple lay on their beds like they were taking a nap. A few sat in the middle of the floor, playing some kind of game that involved slapping the floor or each other at irregular intervals. A few more sat on their beds, thinking or meditating.

They all snapped to attention when he walked in. Every eye went to him.

How old were they—twelve, thirteen? Over a decade spent in this place. Prodded by scientists all day, when they weren’t joylessly training for their adulthood as PERI operatives. Assuming they made it that far, and didn’t get cut open in a lab before their eighteenth birthday for the sake of helping improve the next generation of experiments.

When Max was twelve, he’d spent half his time playing hooky from school to go riding around on the bus looking for trouble, and the other half vegetating in front of the TV with a bag of chips in hand.

But at least he wouldn’t have to herd a dozen younger kids out of here. Kids this age were old enough to reason for themselves, and old enough to understand the need to move fast.

He closed the door behind him. “It’s okay,” he said hurriedly. “I’m not one of them.”

They stared at him. He took the opportunity to stare back, studying them. There was nothing in their faces to indicate what they were. They just look like ordinary kids to him.

Right down to the looks of blank confusion on their faces.

“What do you mean, you’re not one of them?” a sandy-haired boy finally ventured.

A girl with short dark hair pointed at his uniform. “Is that blood?”

“I’m here to rescue you,” he said. “I’m going to get you out of here, understand? But we have to be quick.”

“You want us to leave?” another boy asked, his brows drawn together in a quizzical frown.

“You’re here to take us away,” said the girl. But not like she was glad to hear it.

The kids all looked at each other. Some of them muttered uneasily. When they looked at him, none of their faces showed relief or gratitude.

“They told us that this might happen,” said the girl—not to him. “Remember? They said there were people out there who would want us for themselves.”

Her dark eyes regarded Max like he was the enemy.

She wasn’t the only one.

Maybe Max wouldn’t get to say I told you so after all.

The others had thought this might happen. They had said it was too risky. The children had grown up here their entire lives, they had said. It was their home. They didn’t know any different. Why would they go with some stranger who showed up to rescue them from the only life they had ever known?

Max hadn’t wanted to hear it. They were kids. And those monsters were going to cut them apart or use them as weapons.

It had been his one vote against all of theirs. He’d had to break into Jackson’s files to steal the blueprints for himself, and make his own plans without letting on to the others what he was going to do.

He had been so sure he was in the right.

He wasn’t so sure anymore.

But he wasn’t going to give up that easily. “It’s not what you think,” he said. “They’re using you. You’re their experiments. You’ll be lucky if you make it to adulthood. And if you do, you’ll be their weapons…”

He let his voice trail off.

The air in the room changed. It felt like a building thunderstorm, even though they were too far underground for the weather to matter, and the sky had been clear when he had come down here.

The kids formed a semicircle in front of him. Five of them, then six, then seven. The others watched the conflict play out with wary eyes.

There was one objection none of the others had mentioned, even with all their doom and gloom.

They hadn’t brought up the obvious fact that in addition to being innocent victims, these kids were all powerful psychics.

And there was just one of him against all of them.

The dark-haired girl smiled at him. The smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Flames sprang to life in her palms. He could feel the heat from where he was standing, but it didn’t seem to hurt her.

“It’s time for you to leave now,” she said.

He raised his hands. “All right,” he said. “All right. I’m leaving.”

Without taking his eyes off them, he took a step backward toward the door.

All that planning. All that subterfuge. And for what? For him to sneak away with his tail between his legs, chased off by the people he was there to rescue.

The failure tasted bitter in his mouth.

“Wait,” said the sandy-haired boy suddenly. He stood just outside the semicircle, his eyes wide and troubled.

The dark-haired girl shot a glare. So did a few of the others. But the boy took a step forward, until he was almost standing with the hostile-eyed children, but not quite.

He couldn’t afford to wait. He wasn’t going to win this one. There were enemies behind him, and enemies ahead. The best he could hope for was to make it out with his life, so the others could lecture him. God, they’d probably do it one at a time. Tasha’s lecture alone would go on for hours.

Just as long as he was alive to hear it. And the longer he delayed, the less likely that was to happen. That girl looked pretty trigger-happy, and there were cameras in here, too. It wouldn’t take long for someone to come in to figure out what was going on in here.

In short, he had to get out of here now.

But he looked into the boy’s wide eyes, and he waited.

“You said you can get us out of here?” the boy asked.

The girl stared at him, her eyes a hard warning. “You remember what they told us about people like him.”

“Maybe he could take us outside.” The boy’s voice gained strength as he spoke. “Maybe there wouldn’t be any more tests.”

“No more tests,” Max promised.

The girl turned her glare on Max. “Shut up.”

The boy stepped forward. Past the girl. Toward Max. “I’m going with you.”

“No, you’re not.” The girl lunged forward to catch his wrist. “You don’t know what you’re doing. He’s lying to you. Everyone on the outside lies. You know that.”

The boy looked solemnly down at her fingers where they dug deeply into his wrist. “Let go,” he said, calmly but firmly. “We don’t fight each other. Not ever.”

Even as the others looked at him with hostility in their eyes, they murmured their agreement. The girl let go.

The boy took another step toward Max.

“Don’t do it.” The girl’s voiced shook.

“They’re going to make us fight each other, you know,” the boy said. “It’s the next part of our training. I heard them talking about it. They’ll make us test our abilities on each other. I heard Dr. Gale say they should have started that earlier with us. They don’t like how close we are.”

“They won’t make us fight each other,” the girl insisted. “They know we don’t do that.”

“They will.”

“And so you’ll just go with some stranger? Because you misunderstood something Dr. Gale said? What do you think he’s going to do to you?”

“I’m going to get you free,” Max said. “That’s all.”

“Shut up,” the girl said fiercely. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. She looked at the boy. “We’ll call the guards, then. The real ones. They won’t hurt you, they’ll just stop him.”

“Are you sure about that?” the boy asked. “Do you remember what happened the last time one of us tried to leave?” He shot a round-faced boy a significant look. The boy stared down at his feet.

His eyes went back to that girl. Her hands clenched into fists. She looked away.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered.

The boy looked up at Max. There was a question in his eyes.

“It’s not my decision,” said Max, even though he wanted to scoop up the boy and carry him bodily out of here. “From what I know of this place, nothing good will happen if you stay. If you’re lucky, you’ll live long enough for them to use you as their weapon. If not, they’ll cut you apart for their experiments.”

There was no sense in being gentle about it. Not when it was the truth.

The boy swallowed. He looked over his shoulder at the girl. His own eyes glittered as wetly as hers.

“But you’ve got friends here,” Max continued. “I understand having friends. I know how hard it is to leave them.” It had been hard enough leaving his own friends to pull off this mission by himself, and that had been temporary.

It would be harder to crawl back to them and admit he had been wrong. But at least he wouldn’t have to face working alone again.

“If you want to stay here with them,” Max said, “I’m not going to stop you.”

The boy thought for a long moment. Max glanced up at the camera. If no one had noticed something was wrong yet, they would soon.

But Max didn’t say a word. He let the boy think.

At last, the boy nodded. “I’m coming with you,” he said. Then, over his shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” the girl said. Her voice was small.

“You could come with us.”

She shook her head.

The boy’s shoulders sagged. He offered Max his hand. “Don’t stop us,” he said to the others.

The girl looked affronted at that. “We don’t fight each other.”

The boy looked unbearably sad as he turned away. “Let’s go,” he said to Max.

As soon as they left the room, Max heard trouble coming. Footsteps, at least half a dozen sets, hurrying at a jog.

“Stay behind me,” Max warned the boy, and drew his gun.

But the boy looked unworried. “It’ll be okay,” he said, and stepped out in front of Max before Max could stop him.

The guards turned a corner and faced them, weapons drawn. One opened his mouth to bark an order.

The boy held out a hand. The guards collapsed to the floor in a heap, unmoving. Max thought they were dead until one of them let out a soft snore.

Max stared at the boy, whose face was pale but composed. “You could have gotten out any time with a power like that.”

The boy shook his head. “I couldn’t go alone.”

A few hours ago, Max might not have understood. Now he did. He didn’t think he’d be going anywhere alone any time soon, either.

Max took the boy’s hand again and led him forward. “Where we’re going,” he said, “you’ll never have to be alone.”

It was the truth—however much Max’s team disapproved of what he had done, they wouldn’t turn away a child in need. And it was a lie. Nothing could replace the bond that had been severed when the boy had taken Max’s hand. It had been almost palpable, a change in the air, a physical force.

The boy would have Max. He’d have Max’s team. He’d have whatever family they found for him. But Max doubted any of that could compare to the bond he had with the other kids here.

From this moment forward, he would always be alone.

The boy’s eyes looked older than his years. Max knew he saw the lie, that he understood what choosing freedom had cost him. He stared through Max, and Max suspected the boy wasn’t seeing him at all, but the life of loneliness stretching out ahead of him.

But all the boy said was, “We have to go. They’ll wake up soon.”

---

Tagged: @cakeinthevoid @gala1981

Ask to be added or removed from my Whumptober 2023 taglist.

#whumptober2023 #no.8 #outnumbered #oc #fic #minor whump #lab whump #rescue #my writing #my writing: whumptober 2023 #my writing: Mind Games

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kitkatwinchester · 11 months

Text

I hate everything about this.

...okay, that's a lie, because I DO love how concerned they all are about each other, and, as much as I hate to admit it, I love some good whump.

THAT SAID.

I'M SO WORRIED ABOUT OUR WHOLE PACK AHHHHH.

I hate that Rafael and Noah and Melissa are all stuck on the outside only VAGUELY aware of the current situation, but WELL aware that their kids have professional killers going after them at all times, which only adds to their worry.

I hate that our pack is all being affected in slightly different ways, which makes it impossible to know what the next set of symptoms will be, and even more impossible to know how to cure it.

I hate that, according to Satomi, and as evidenced by her DEAD PACK, this is FATAL to werewolves, and we have TWO OF THOSE actively affected right now, and that is REALLY NOT A GOOD SIGN.

I hate that Lydia is in her lake house, completely alone and unaware of what's going on, and so (validly) emotionally impacted by Meredith's death and trying so desperately to reconnect with her somehow, but without any support (though, as an aside, I freaking KNEW it. Her mom MUST know more than she's letting on, because Meredith was IN THAT ROOM.).

HOWEVER.

I love love LOVE how concerned our pack is for each other, and how much they're still helping each other and keeping an eye on each other and still so in sync. Plus, I am SUCH a sucker for a good ol' sick fic. ;)

I love that, when Ken came into the locker room to check on Scott, Scott's immediate response was "Get Stiles." (SCILES ALL THE WAY! <3 <3)

I love Kira's awkwardness when Malia asks her about the bag under Scott's bed. ("No, I've never been under Scott's bed. Or in it. Just on it. Wearing clothes." XD)

I love how Malia was so quick to reach out for Stiles in concern, even when she's pretty sick herself, when he started to fall over while trying to look at the map.

I love how concerned Ken is, and how he's doing his best to help these kids and keep an eye on them and make sure they're okay, since he's our only parental resource that can at the moment.

I love how quick they were to come up with a plan and find a place to hole up and protect themselves, but also protect others from them.

I love Sciles's silent conversation about getting Malia to open the vault.

I love Malia calling out Sciles for hiding something, only to save them from actually revealing the truth when she incorrectly assumed that the hidden information was her presence of the name on the list.

I love how quickly, and yet very not-smoothly, Scott and Stiles recovered, mostly because if Malia was j a little better at social cues, you know she would've picked up on it.

I love how concerned Stiles was when Malia found out how much she was worth, only for Malia to be pleased that she's the least likely target of the group ("It's progress." XD).

I love how much they still have each other's backs, and how much they care about each other, and I love that they at least have each other during such a terrifying and deadly time, and I REALLY hope they can work together to figure it out and save each other and get better, because I REFUSE TO LOSE ANY OF THEM GOSH DARNAT!

Anyways...

This is one of those episodes that I can already tell I'm gonna love to hate, hate to love, and I already know it's gonna make its way pretty high up on my favorite episodes list just from the whump and hurt/comfort alone.

Let's see even more of it. XD :( <3

(This was before all the bad stuff started happening, but it's all four of them, so it works. <3)

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splendidissimus · 8 months

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May 1998 - Theo comes back / "I'm going to be dead by the time I'm forty."

((Content warning: medical / hospital, terminal illness))

Genre: whump

Romance level: minor

Angst level: 3/5

Draco's headspace: fatalistic

((words: ~1500))

------------------------------------

Draco was basically alone in the St Mungo's spell damage ward, leaning on the chest-high window sill and looking out at the Muggle street through dingey glass. When he heard someone coming in behind him, he assumed it was a nurse or something, and he ignored them. It was a surprise when he heard Theo's familiar voice. "Hey. You want some company?"

He looked back over his shoulder, but didn't even frown. "How did you know I was here?"

"Your house elf told me when I went to see you at home."

"Right." He looked out the window again. He wondered if Theo was going to explain why he had been there in the first place, after being told to leave him alone. He was sure the excuse was flimsy.

"How long have you been here?" Theo sat on the unmade bed he correctly identified as Draco's, ignoring the chairs beside it. "The elf made it sound like you'd been gone awhile."

"A week."

"Damn. You know when they're going to let you out?"

He shrugged mutely.

"That sucks. But if it makes you feel better, I know the weather's looked nice, but it's actually been pretty cold. You haven't missed much."

Draco was quiet and let him talk. Theo wasn't pushing him or talking down to him; he was the first person in a long while to just let him be and try to have a normal conversation.

"Not the most comfortable place, I know… At least your roommate seems quiet. What's his deal?"

Draco glanced in disinterest back at the only other resident of the ward, a wizard whose face was completely blank — no ears, eyes, or mouth, although someone had transfigured him a rudimentary nose so he could breathe. "His kid got a hold of his wand, apparently. They're trying to figure out if they can give him back his original face or if they have to make a new one."

"Wicked."

He looked out the window again and let Theo talk for a while. It didn't really matter what he was saying; the cadence of conversation washed over him without really sinking in.

"I'm going to be dead by the time I'm forty," he said with no lead-in.

Theo instantly followed him into that conversation, tone now intent instead of casually meandering. "That's what they told you? Straight up? Why?"

"He's killed me," he said emptily. "How Snape said I was cursed? That's what it did: drained most of my life away. According to the so-called experts, I have the physical fortitude of a decently healthy octogenarian. In twenty years, I'll basically be a hundred. My body's just going to give out." He looked at the skyline distantly. "My father's older now than I'll ever be."

"There are ways around that, though, right?"

"Where do you think my mother is? Interrogating the healers for options. She's not going to find any." How could anyone think they could reverse a punishment from the Dark Lord?

Theo came and joined him at the window, leaning on it beside him. "No, I didn't figure they would say 'you're going to die young' just to then say 'here's a way to prevent it'. I meant ways to basically cheat death, I guess."

"Dark magic," Draco said flatly.

"And I guess now we don't like that idea?"

He was quiet for another minute first. "Do you know what a Horcrux is?" he asked instead of answering.

"No, doesn't sound familiar."

"No one does, apparently, but that's what Potter was looking for in the castle. What they stole from Gringotts, too, I think. I finally found it mentioned in our library. It's a way to cheat death."

"You don't sound like this is a good thing."

"It's not. You split your soul — by murdering someone — and put a piece of it into an object. That's what the Dark Lord was using that kept him alive. That's how dark magic cheats death."

Theo rested his chin on his hand and looked down at the street pensively. "Are those Muggles?" he wondered in a moment.

"Yeah."

"Huh. They all look the same."

"They have about two different types of clothes," Draco agreed vaguely, and they fell silent for another little while.

"Philosopher's Stone." Theo suddenly tapped on the windowsill with his knuckles. "It's not Dark magic, and it doesn't matter if you're eighty years old on the inside, it keeps hexacentenarians alive."

Draco glanced down at him. "It's a nice fairy tale. The thing doesn't exist anymore. In the last six hundred years, it never was created a second time, and he never taught anyone, or sold it. Believe me, if it could have been bought, the whole Ministry would be full of ancient Malfoys."

"When I go back for my N.E.W.T.s, I'll take Alchemy, and I'll make one up for you by the time you're thirty-nine," Theo said confidently. "If it was made once, it can be made again."

"You can't just decide to make a Philosopher's Stone, that's mental."

Theo leaned his head over so his cheek rested on Draco's bony shoulder. Draco rolled it to try to get him off, to no effect. "I'm not going to let you die."

"You can't just decide that, either."

"But I did."

"I don't suppose you're going to be telling the healers who actually dumped the Amortentia on you last year."

"I don't see much point; they'd just tell me to stay away from you, and I don't see what good it would do."

"You are saying crazy things. Maybe it would stop that."

"Well, in all seriousness," Theo said, and lifted his head from Draco, turning around to lean back on the window sill, "I know I can't guarantee a Philosopher's Stone or to keep you from dying. But, I do think I could help, and I think you know that's not just wishful thinking or 'obsession'. Maybe there's nothing to do about your situation, but maybe there is something that a properly clever researcher could figure out. Maybe not a whole solution, but at least something to help make it better. And if I really can't do anything else, at least I can make your potions. I do think I can do more than that, though."

Draco shifted to face him, leaning on one arm. "So you want a job?"

"It's not like I have anything else working," Theo said dryly. "It's a win-win situation."

"A second win for you because you get to keep lurking around me, when you're supposed to be leaving me alone."

Theo looked up at him. "I tell you what, that's back in your control. If you really want me to go away, tell them about the Amortentia, and I won't deny it. They'll make me stay away from you. But I don't think that's what you actually want, though. I think it's what you think you should do, but you don't have to."

"So now you're telling me what I want?"

"No. Just giving you permission to do whatever you want instead of what you're supposed to."

"Because I need your permission."

Theo shrugged. "Not mine. But nobody else is giving it."

How had Theo hit so casually on that feeling he had of waiting? Was he that obvious? Draco looked back out the window quietly and didn't respond.

"Are you going to stop joking around about it?" he said in a few minutes. "I'm not in the mood; I just found out my life is half over."

"You're seventeen," Theo pointed out.

"Basically eighteen. Close enough. Not in the mood for pedantry, either."

"I promise I take the situation very seriously."

"All right. I'll think about it. I think we actually have a standard patronage contract…"

Theo nodded sagely. "If it helps, I accept partial payment in kisses."

Draco jerked to look at him. "We are in public," he hissed.

Theo looked around. "Who's going to tell? No-Face Guy? Hey, No-Face Guy! Draco —"

He kept talking, but no sounds came out; Draco had pulled out his wand and wordlessly Silenced him. When Theo noticed in a couple words, he rolled his eyes and took his own wand out of his pocket to fix it. "That's really mature."

"Yeah, so are you. That was a one-time thing," he said, furiously but softly, paranoid of eavesdroppers, "and then you were supposed to go away, which now you've reneged on."

"Technically, I don't think I ever agreed to that arrangement…"

"Do you want to tell about the potion so you never see me again?"

"Not really, no," he admitted.

"Then don't mention it again. Maybe you don't have a reputation to worry about, but not all of us can be that casual…"

"It's really not that big of a deal, anyway."

"So I take it you've never actually met a Pureblood family, Nott?"

"Nope," Theo said blandly. "Oh, wait, did you say 'met'? I heard 'cared about the opinion of'."

"Well, someday you'll have to grow up."

"We'll see." He pushed himself off the window and slouched his hands into his pockets. "Hey." He looked up at Draco. "It made you stop thinking about dying for a couple minutes, didn't it?"

Draco gave him a disgruntled look.

Theo only smirked. "Kisses win." He looked at the door. "Do you want to go up to the cafe instead of sitting here staring at Muggles on the street?"

The healers would have a fit with him for climbing so many flights of stairs. He found that idea mildly satisfying. "Yes. As long as there's none of that talk." Theo held up his hands innocently. "And I assume the suggestion means you want something to eat and don't have the money."

Theo shrugged. "Win-win."

—

His mother was not very impressed when she located them in the cafe. She didn't even need to say 'you should be in bed' for him to hear it. He also heard 'I was under the impression Nott wouldn't be back'. It was convenient not to have to actually speak.

"Tea, Mother?" he offered, instead of addressing either of those. His tea was basically a vehicle for cream and sugar which was supposed to help him regain weight, and a discarded plate showed he'd also managed a sandwich; it was a good day for eating. Even if it had taken him most of the last two hours.

He was actually surprised when she did sit, but he didn't mind not having to get up. He levitated the tea to pour for her; she gave Theo a meaningful look to encourage him to excuse himself, but he pretended to be oblivious. Or maybe he actually was oblivious — Draco wouldn't have wagered a sum he wasn't prepared to lose on Theo Nott's social awareness.

She evidently elected to ignore him. "The staff here are a disgrace," she said impatiently. Obviously her day had been fruitless. "We'll call on actual experts as soon as we return home. After the money we've donated over the years, I would have expected them to be more helpful, but clearly their memories are short, and our money might be better appreciated elsewhere…"

"There isn't a point," he said, letting her offence wash past him unacknowledged. She was just venting. "You can't fix it."

She pressed her lips together in a very annoyed look that said she didn't accept it.

He didn't mention it again. He knew he wouldn't change her mind. "I'll be retaining Nott for an assistant," he said instead.

"Hi," Theo said, which really didn't improve the situation any.

She gave Theo a decidedly ungracious look, and then went back to ignoring him. "I thought you had decided to cut ties," she said, uncharacteristic bluntness betraying her bad mood.

"The situation has changed." Draco considered his tea in distaste and tried to decide if he could stomach more sugar. "When I said that, I also said I was fine, and obviously…" He shrugged one shoulder. "Apparently I'm going to have a whole schedule of potions for him to make and manage."

"We'll get a professional for that."

"He's as good in N.E.W.T. potions as I am; he can handle the work. More to the point, he already knows everything going on. There's no need to hope for trustworthiness or try to enforce discretion, and I won't have to explain myself to another stranger." He tapped his cup with his wand to surreptitiously transfigure the last of his tea into a dry wine as a palate cleanser. "And I want it to be him."

He did that to forestall any more objections; she might judge, but there weren't any actual logical reasons to reject Theo, and she never could deny him whatever he wanted.

It wasn't even that he needed her permission to hire whomever he wanted for whatever he wanted, but honestly, if she seriously objected, he wouldn't. He wasn't trying to defy her or assert himself. He just wanted to do something other than wait. Make an actual decision and something approaching a plan, instead of just existing. It was some sort of path forward.

She looked at him, glanced coolly at Theo, and set down her tea. "As you wish." She stood. "You shouldn't have come up here; it isn't good for your heart. They want to try another potion experiment. Are you all right to make it back downstairs?"

"Yes. I'm not that fragile." He pushed himself up. "Come back tomorrow," he said to Theo, before he could offer to help. He did want him to be around and get caught up on all this medical shit, but not today. They'd just heard his prognosis this morning, and his mother didn't need to be bothered by someone else while she was coming to terms with it.

At least Theo accepted a direct instruction better than hints. "See you." He stayed put.

They were quiet until he had to stop on the stairs to catch his breath; she offered him a hand, and he leaned on her until the landing of his floor. "Do you need him?" she asked, since they were alone.

"I need someone." That he was using her help was proof of it, but he couldn't expect her to tend to him like a petty nurse. "I want it to be him because he'll keep up with me. Having someone around who'll talk to me about more than dying is a good distraction."

"You aren't dying," she said sternly.

He didn't respond to that.

#hospital #draco malfoy #draco x theo #theo nott #teen draco #draco malfoy fanfiction #fanfic #narcissa malfoy #splendidissimus writing

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cupcakes-and-pain · 2 years

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Rat: Chapter 11

Photographer POV time. Also, this has a lot of warnings but almost nothing happens in it I’m sorry. Jai has just seen some shit

CW: mentions of kidnapping, mention of animal abuse/trafficking, mentioned cannibalism, mentioned vivisection, extreme finger whump, blood, bruises, mentioned nudity, a lot of mentioned crimes, crying, mentioned nudity

Mastesrlist

———

Jai was not one to complain, but they really weren’t liking this new job.

It wasn’t the pay. Actually, the money was a lot and it was always on time, which was a problem that often came up when you were a freelance photographer in a crime-filled city.

No, it wasn’t the money. It wasn’t even the area or the customer, although both were pretty crime-heavy.

No, it was the subject matter that they were supposed to do that bothered Jai. Which was odd for them, usually they weren’t bothered by anything. They had taken pictures and videos of arson, grand theft auto, kidnapped people, dead bodies, organs, drugs, poison, and a lot of other stuff that their clients wanted. They had helped make ransom notes, illegal sales, and even trafficked a baby polar bear once (although they did really regret that one). Nothing phased them anymore.

Or so they thought.

But then Virginia Diaz-Hills had requested their services after getting a recommendation from a friend, and so they showed up to see… Rat.

Well, it wasn’t just Rat, there were so many of prisoners there. So many victims of extreme torture, kept alive so that they could go through a fate so much worse than death. Virginia had made a lot of enemies.

According to one of the employees, Virginia was no stranger to vivisection and cannibalism, so. There was that.

During the tour, she pointed out the old photographer. He was missing some of his fingers. His bandages were due for a change, the blood seeping through them and running down his arms. Apparently, he had tried to tell someone about what was going on in this place.

Virginia gave Jai a pointed look when she was explaining this.

“Oh, don’t you worry, Ms. Diaz-Hills. I’ve been working very close with the crime business since I was 14. I’m not about to run to the law. My lips are sealed.”

“They better stay that way, or else. But if you are as good as everyone says you are, then you should be fine.”

“Of course, Ms.”

Jai could keep their lips sealed, that wasn’t the problem. Keeping their lunch down, on the other hand, well.

But they had to do this. The money was so good, they couldn’t lose this opportunity. And it was only for a few more months until Virginia could find a permanent photographer.

Jai could do this. They had seen worse, hadn’t they?

They had to do this. For Ayan. For Papa. They had to.

Then why couldn’t they get the image of Rat crying as he bled, naked and covered in slashes and bruises, out of their mind?

———

Tag list: @kim-poce @lumpofwhump @scp-1296 just ask to be added or removed!

#whump #mentioned kidnappings #mention of animal abuse/trafficking #mentioned cannibalism #mentioned vivisection #finger whump #blood #bruises #crying

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secret-bug-pain-blog · 1 year

Text

Febuwhump, Day 2 - Flinching

This chapter now officially contains the sloppiest conlanging we've ever done in our life. Word may be liable to change - sounds are hard, but this at least looks like it doesn't translate to something in another language, and we can change things up later.

Pseudosequel to Love Bites, which probably doesn't count as whump but is... romantic? Targeted towards people who enjoyed TLT's bone surgery scene. TL;DR of relevant bits is that Mothiva and Zasp, via a ritual involving scarification of the neck, are bound together according to Deadlands Wasp tradition. Leif believes Something Is Up with Mothiva and Zasp due to the aftermath of this, and is leaning heavily towards the thought of domestic abuse.

Zasp wasn’t the biggest enthusiast of theatre.

He didn’t talk about it much, really. With Mothiva’s performances, half the association probably assumed it was how he met her in the first place – and while they were wrong, he wasn’t about to correct them.

The lights, the glamor, the being seen… it didn’t appeal to him so much as it made him scrunch his head back into his shoulders and hide away. He’d gotten better, in his years of being employed as Mothiva’s bodyguard, but he wasn’t… comfortable with it, and he privately suspected that he’d never be comfortable with some aspects.

Even just watching his partner on-stage would sometimes bring back memories of the brilliant floodlight of the Uljuasondier sweeping over the land, picking off bugs and-

He didn’t want to think about it.

Of course, having a partner meant he was hired for certain events a lot more often – unfortunate side effects of having decent knowledge of what a performance needed, he supposed.

And that, of course, lead him to here- stuck on a stage to make sure no one dropped anything too important during setup while the other explorers fucked around with important supplies.

He understood that charity work was no one’s favorite job, but this just seemed- absurd. Having even the most surface-level knowledge of knowledge let him know just how badly they were handling things. He’d had to pull the beetle away from the lights thrice in the past few hours, and he was far from the worst of them.

And of course, there were plenty of bugs who were taking that to a new level.

“You can’t freeze the stage lights,” Zasp hissed at Leif. “Do you want to pay for replacements?”

“We were just moving them into place-“

“By covering them with ice?!” Zasp was sure the incredulity in his tone wasn’t particularly dignified, for a bug who was supposed to keep things in control – but for all that ice powers weren’t the sort of thing he usually had to herd around, they were quickly proving to be a pain and a half to deal with.

“He can make them float,” Vi offered, draping herself over one of the lights. “It’s how he gets around places you need to fly for.”

“That doesn’t fix ice damage.”

“I mean, nothing in the Hive breaks down even in the dead of winter, so maybe it’s just-“

“Does the hive’s equipment frost over?”

“…well-“

He didn’t give Vi the change to respond. “Don’t freeze the equipment. I can’t believe I have to say this.”

“…we won’t.”

Leif temporarily taken off-track from his destruction of property, Zasp turned back to monitoring the hall. Thankfully, no one seemed to be doing anything immediately dangerous, to the equipment or to themselves. He just had to…

…what was that clicking noise?

Another click- then a brilliant light locked onto him.

Zasp jerked in surprise- then froze in place. Adrenaline flooded his body, his limbs going rigid as a statue. His heart was beating out of his chest – he thought that they were out of the deadlands, he thought they were safe-

“…Zasp, are you feeling all right?”

Zasp burst into motion, covering half of the room in a single flesh of his wings as he jerked away from that blinding, all-consuming light. He needed to move, to find shelter, to- to-

A hand landed on his shoulder, and Zasp flinched, snapping his mandibles and flaring his wings as he turned to face-

Leif, wide-eyed and staring at the mouthful of pale yellow fluff he’d taken out of his ruff.

Shit.

Zasp backed up, stumbling- shit, shit, shit, what did he just do? He saw Leif’s mouth move, but he couldn’t hear anything through the sound of his own heartbeat. He couldn’t stay here, he had to-

“What are you morons doing?”

Mothiva.

Oh, thank the Queens.

Mothiva jumped down from backstage, storming over to them and inserting herself between Leif and Zasp. Zasp stumbled away, taking the opportunity to make space between him and the moth- If they weren’t in public, he would have kissed her right then and there.

“You,” Mothiva snarled, pointing at Leif. “Back off. You two, back there- turn the damn light off. Does this look like a performance to you?”

Zasp could faintly hear the beetle calling an apology from his position near the light settings. His joints felt week. Had he really been startled like that by-

Leif’s voice cut through the air. “Your partner reacts awfully strangely, for a bug in the show business.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” Mothiva asked.

Zasp didn’t want to be here.

Every noise seemed too loud, every bug’s footstep a potential threat, every little noise a sign of danger. He didn’t- he couldn’t-

“We mean,” Leif said, “that your partner’s been acting awfully strangely lately, especially after that trip into the deadlands, and those scars couldn’t have been made by-”

“And I thought I told you nothing happened.”

The scars in Zasp’s throat itched with anxiety. He couldn’t handle this. He needed to go, to-

Zasp made a warbling squeak, in the back of his throat, and Mothiva’s attention snapped to him- only for Leif to pounce on her distraction to push whatever point he was trying to make.

“He acted like he was in danger from a spotlight,” Leif snarled, tone frigid as ice. “Do you want us to believe that’s normal for any bug?”

“Yes, I do,” Mothiva snarled. “If you’re trying to imply anything about my partner-“ She paused, glancing over her shoulder at Zasp. “Zasp, go.”

She didn’t have to ask him twice. Something in him wanted to stay, to defend her- but he had to trust that Mothiva could handle it. Zasp leapt into the air, wings buzzing as he flickered out of the room, ignoring the shout after him.

Hopefully, Mothiva could handle them better than him.

#bug fables #febuwhump2023 #febuwhump #my writing #mothiva #zasp #panic attacks #sensory overload #accusations of abuse #febuwhumpday2

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kbrick · 2 years

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Sad Drarry Fic Rec List 😩

Hello friends!

Let me ask you this: Are you pissed off at the gorgeous spring weather? Do you wonder, sometimes, if the shiny new buds on the trees are mocking you, pretending to grow and flourish only to wither and die and crumble into dust a few short months later, serving as a cruel reminder of the temporary nature and futility of all things? Is the sunshine giving you a migrane? Do you just want to claw your way back into the dead of winter so you can spend more hours in the suffocating darkenss, feeling the cold grab at you like a shivery precursor to the endless night we all have waiting for us on the other side of the veil?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, do I have some fic recs for you! 🎉🎉🎉🎉

I’ve compiled a list of the saddest, most depressing fics I’ve ever read. They’re good ones, well-written, and sort of make you want to tear your hair out and rend your garments. There is hurt with no comfort. There is whump with no un-whumping. There is a lot of death, a lot of cruelty, a lot of awful, horrible things that happen to our beloveds in these stories.

And isn’t that just fun sometimes? Isn’t it sorta cathartic to just WALLOW on occasion? So, if you’re feeling over it when it comes to your own relentless, exhausting plod along the highway of life and want to see Harry and Draco suffer along with you, if you have too many boxes of unused tissues in your house, or if you’re simply looking for a good wallow, give these a go. You WILL regret it. But in the best way.

If you like your emotional trauma quick & dirty (fics under 10k):

Powerful Men by Frayach (E, 8.5k) - okay, look. I fucking love Frayach. But you’ve got to be in, shall we say, a bit of a mood for their stuff. Because although the storylines and lengths of their fic vary widely, one thing never changes: the fucking soul-deep darkness that permeates all their works. There are some happy ending fics mixed up in there, but plenty that aren’t, too, and either way, it’s gonna hurt. I like this one in particular for a few reasons. First of all, it’s told in first person/present tense, which is a tricky combination to get right but can be used to incredible effect, making everything feel immediate and close, like surround sound for the written word. Frayach nails it. We never even know the name of our narrator -- he’s just some random rent boy who happened to room with Harry for a while in this apocolyptic-type world where Voldemort won the war. According to our narrator, the big bad Minister of Magic has just been put down, and the world’s about to get better, except no. Not for our Drarry purposes it isn’t. This poor prostitute’s tale will make you wail by the end, once you’ve sorted through what, exactly, has happened.

Last Offices by @tackytigerfic (M, 6.7k) – you know this one’s going to be a toughie right away thanks to the summary. Basically, Harry’s trying to navigate a bunch of pureblood funeral rites for Draco while also grieving. Despite the depressing-as-fuck premise, this fic manages to be both heartfelt and bittersweet, mostly thanks to a collection of memories that Harry relives during the rites. The relationship between Harry and Draco feels much fuller than the length might suggest, and very, very real. Any idiot with a keyboard can make a Drarry lover a little sad by killing off one of our faves, but it takes a deft, masterful hand to really immerse you in the feeling of loss, to make your poor little reader’s heart heavy with it like it was your own. Tacky manages to do just that, navigating the pitfalls of both oversentimentality on one side and remoteness on the other to deliver this short but impactful rumination on death and legacy and carrying on.

Yours, Draco by FeelsForBreakfast (NR, 3.5k) – Draco writes Harry a series of letters before his execution after the war. The most painful part of this little heartbreaker is that these letters are so full of life. They are so Draco, the version of him that I adore, in which he is snarky and funny and a little bit rambly. His personality feels so big, so vital, that it seems utterly impossible to imagine the world without him. But, of course, that’s exactly what Harry must do.

I Am Your Shadow by eidheann (M, 3.1k) – let us step away from actual death for a moment to appreciate emotional death. In this fic, both our boys are suffering intensely in the aftermath of the war. Draco is a meek, terrified shadow of his former self and Harry can’t feel anything. Of course, their aversion to life causes them to crash into one another and they end up in bed together. The way Harry behaves afterward, and how Draco reacts to his behavior is devastating and also makes complete sense. It’s difficult to be too mad at Harry because he’s obviously traumatized himself, but still. It hurts. It hurts so much. The ending is left fairly open, so maybe there’s a HEA for these two messes? But given the extent of their trauma, I wouldn’t bet on it.

In Death’s Dream Kingdom by kedavranox (M, 7.3k) – Harry became the painter we all wanted him to become and is married to Draco, who fights crime. Hooray, right? WRONG. Because an enemy Draco’s made on the job attacked Harry and now Draco can’t stop until he gets revenge. It is so much worse than you think. So, so much worse.

The Death You Carry by @magpiefngrl (M, 2.7k) – It’s a second person POV cancer fic, so right away, you know this one’s going to leave a mark. Draco has a terminal illness and he’s living out his last days, and it’s devastating and devastatingly realistic. One of the worst parts is watching how Harry handles things from Draco’s perspective. Harry’s struggle is absolutely heartbreaking and beautifully rendered, and Draco’s feelings of powerlessness and rage will have you in tears. The fic is impactful because of how true it is to life - I mean, how many people are facing something like this at this very moment? Who doesn’t relate to this on some level? Not to be a downer or anything 🙂

Free To a Good Home by @onbeinganangel (T, 1k) – Dealing with the (natural) death of Draco is not like dealing with war trauma, as Harry soon finds out. It’s a lot less about nightmares and fear and a lot more about the gaping, empty chasm of his soul. He tries to manage his grief and his feelings while also having to deal with practical matters such as selling the house and giving away things he won’t need anymore, which only leads to more grief. This little 1k fic packs a lot of angsty punch throughout, but the last line had me spiraling.

The Kiss by Frayach (M, 5.1k) - I started this section with the Eternal Emperess of Drarry Darkness and I’m finishing with them, too. This little number made me stop reading Frayach for a good few months because I had such a strong reaction to it. It’s a mind-fuck, it’s terrible, it’s hopeless, it’s the WORST. And by worst, I mean best. It’s guaranteed to make you hate the world, the justice system, death, and basically everything else.

If you like your emotional pain to fully consume you and linger endlessly (long fics):

Brief Encounter by @maraudersaffair (E, 45k) – I’ve recced this fic before, and I’ll do it again and again until I the day I die. The premise is simple: Harry and Draco are married to the women they’re married to in canon. Then they embark on an affair with one another. Angst ensues, you know the drill. But this one is darker than most infidelity fics. Maruadersaffair does not gloss over the cruelties Harry inflicts on Ginny, nor do they make the relationship between Harry and Draco easy to witness, either. It’s all-consuming, passionate, and painful. The ending made me cry like a little bitch (more than once – I’ve read it a few times now and even though I know what’s coming, it still gets me. Damn it!).

Dreaming Darkly by @quicksilvermaid (E, 40k) – holyfuckingshit, this fic. This fic is good. The whole premise is incredibly unique: Draco runs an illegal den of dreams, hidden behind a pub. He uses his legilimency to give people relief from real-world hurts, to take them to a place where their children were never killed, where their lovers never left them, where the world is beautiful and bright once more. Auror Potter, of course, is on the case. Not that he’s been assigned the case, mind, because this version of Auror Potter is not exactly winning at life or doing much to impress his bosses. But he is determined to find out what Malfoy’s up to anyway because, come on guys, it’s Malfoy. This could be an adorable little rom-com story, but OH BOY IT IS NOT. Prepare to go to the dark side. Prepare to cry. Prepare to rail at the unfairness of it all and taste the tang of bitterness on your tongue. Because this one’s going to hurt like hell.

Beautiful World by Lissadiane (M, 70k) – I’ll just tell you, because Lissadiane tells you in the tags: Harry’s gonna die, guys. He’s gonna die, he knows he’s gonna die, and there isn’t a damn thing Harry or you or ANYBODY can do about it, and it’s sad and horrible and you just have to sit there and take it. Meanwhile, Draco gets roped into spending Harry’s last hours with him and, of course, they have the most beautiful realizations about each other and it’s all very romantic. If this was a GallaPlacidia fic, first of all, it would be Draco dying, but second of all, the boys would kiss just before the curse finished Harry off and all would be well and love would save the day. This is not a GallaPlacidia fic.

Nightingale by michi_thekiller (62k) – From what I understand, this was a fandom classic back in the day (at least for those who liked to cry a lot). I read it about a month or two into my Drarry addiction, and I’ve thought about it ever since. Not to be overly dramatic, but it really did make me question my own sense of morality and the difference between right and wrong and what, exactly, makes a person culpable. In this story, Draco was tortured during the war, and is now situated in full-time care because he has the mental capacity of a child. Before the war, Draco and Harry were romantically involved, in that I-love-you-I-hate-you sort of way. It involved a lot of rough sex, and a stinging emotional closeness that they never discussed, and then Draco left school. Harry resents the hell out of Draco for not defecting and letting the Order protect him. He also harbors feelings of guilt over the whole thing and those feelings threaten to crush him throughout. He’s angry and sad and so, so lonely that it hurts to read about it, and when he takes Draco out of care and brings him home to stay with him, he feels like it’s the first good thing that’s happened to him in forever. But he wants the old Draco back. Only that Draco no longer exists, and the one in front of him is defenseless as a lamb and so, so innocent. MIND THE TAGS and prepare to have this haunt your dreams for months if not years. PS, if anyone wants to discuss their OWN trauma after reading this fic, please let me know. I’d like to start a support group.

Stop All the Clocks (This Is the Last Time I’m Leaving Without You) by @firethesound (M, 44k) – how could I not include this fic? I’ll be honest, though - I almost didn’t, because I didn’t want to read it. I put it off for a long time. I didn’t want to read a long fic where one of our boys was already dead, you know? Because that sounded depressing! And guess what? IT IS! And guess what else? It’s also worth it, because it’s an incredibly well-written story that rings truer than almost any rumination on grief that I’ve ever read. If you’re putting this off for the same reasons that I was, I get it. But it really is as good as everyone says it is. I will never stop thinking about the cup set out on the table under stasis. Never. On my death bed, I’ll be thinking about that damn cup. And ffs, I need to stop thinking about death!

Anyway, does anybody want to recommend some nice fluff? Pretty please? I think I broke myself reading all this shit.

#drarry #hp fic rec #listicles #crying #ugly crying #sad #depressing #death is all around us #halp #fantastic fiction #fanfic writers are the worst and best #emotional trauma #spoiler alert: everyone dies at the end

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theslowesthnery · 3 years

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i don’t rly understand what you mean by problematic.. like you enjoy something in fiction but not when it’s real, but what exactly is it??

i would like to know why exactly you feel entitled to that information. like you want me to list every single thing that i like that contains things that are not good or acceptable in real life?

fine, okay

- naruto. i don't approve of child soldiers.

- fullmetal alchemist. again, child soldiers.

- gunsmith cats. not a fan of the author's clear love for lolis - "legal" (read: over 18) or otherwise.

- hades. i don't approve of abusive parents, and there are many things in greek mythology that are not okay in real life: incest, rape, pedophilia, bestiality and infanticide to name a few

- tekken and soul calibur. i don't actually like real-life violence, and i'm not a huge fan of the ridiculous, over-sexualized outfits of the female characters.

- dead by daylight. do i even have to say what all in this game is not okay in real life?

- marvel comics. ...actually beta ray bill is perfect and has done nothing wrong in his life.

- legend of korra book 1. terrorism is not actually good, and neither is oppression and brushing aside the concerns of oppressed minorities because they dared to criticize you. cheating on your significant other and then acting like none of it was your fault and not even apologizing is not good. telling your brother to not be interested in a girl because you're interested in her but have no intention of actually dating her (because you already have a girlfriend) is shitty. threatening to burn someone's face off is really bad actually. literally everything that mako does in book 1 is shown in either positive or neutral light and i agree with none of it lmao.

- transformers MTMTE. there's violence, there's characters making questionable decisions and generally not being black-and-white good or evil.

- manifest destiny (comic series by image comics). colonizing a continent is not good. murdering an entire tribe (and possibly species) of sentient bird-people is not okay. conspiring to sacrifice an infant to some sort of evil god is not okay.

- shigurui. i don't approve of literally anything in this manga lol don't read it it's horrible and soul-crushing.

- blade of the immortal. the author has a thing for torturing (fictional) women, and it becomes apparent as the series goes on.

- fatal frame games. i don't support sacrificing people, even though the characters in these games had very good reasons for it, it's not like they were doing it for laughs.

- silent hill 2 & 3. please don't make me list everything in these games that is not okay in real life.

- outlast 1 & whistleblower. bro

- final fantasy 9. i'm getting tired.

- undertale. besides the things that are obviously bad and shown in a bad light? idk my brain's not working anymore.

- deltarune. ditto.

- soul reaver 1, 2 and legacy of kain: defiance. all the characters in these games have very grey morality and do questionable things sometimes for good reasons, sometimes for bad reasons (sometimes intentionally, sometimes unknowingly). a character who's presented as a villain in one game is presented as an ally in the next, and a character who acts as your ally in one point might be an enemy later. you have to confront the fact that the past self you idolized was actually a piece of shit and kill them, and not in a metaphorical sense.

- bloodborne. i don't approve of using the blood of some random "god" you discovered in a labyrinth underground to start a religion. don't murder entire villages. don't do human experiments.

- okami. i really don't like the lecher character type, so i'm not a huge fan of issun. but amaterasu is a perfect protagonist that does nothing wrong.

- tera. i like the elin race (they're so fucking adorable), but i don't like the sexualization of them. the game also suffers from a VERY bad case of bikini-armour for female characters (the castanic race has it particularly bad), and i think it's kinda gross.

i know there are more things that i like (tv shows and movies for example) but i can't be arsed to list anymore.

for tropes and stuff, i like hurt/comfort and whump A LOT. i like drawing my favourite characters hurt, bruised and bleeding, i don't know why. i like angst. i like the BDSM aesthetic, and like drawing (or just thinking of) my favourite characters in bondage, and since a lot of the anti rhetoric comes from radfems and swerfs, they think that those things - and kink stuff in general - are Normalizing and Romanticizing abuse and rape.

oh yeah, and i like M/M ships even though i'm not MLM myself, which means i'm a fetishizer. also i have M/F ships, which means i'm homophobic.

i like ships with size differences: deunan and briareos, sans and toriel, cyclonus and tailgate, asterius and theseus have the biggest size differences, and some antis say that that's normalizing and romanticizing pedophilia. some of my ships also have age gaps: deunan and briareos have one of 9 years, sans and toriel's is not officially known but i headcanon it to be decades if not centuries, kakuzu and hidan have an age difference of about sixty years if i remember correctly (can't be arsed to check), cyclonus and tailgate have a practical age difference of a million years, and asterius and theseus have this interesting situation where most people (myself included) headcanon them as having been about the same age when theseus killed asterius, after which theseus went on to live for at least a few decades more before dying, so in the afterlife theseus is quite a bit older than asterius. and again, age gaps of more than like three years are pedophilia according to antis.

also asterius and theseus are like. the quintessential enemies-to-lovers ship - theseus killed asterius for crying out loud! kakuzu and hidan kinda hate each other (though they do, on some level, also care about each other). cyclonus and tailgate did NOT have a good start. amon bloodbent the lieutenant in the finale of legend of korra book 1. so sometimes i like messy ships, or ships that didn't have the best start. which, y'know, is normalizing and romanticizing abuse.

is that good enough?

#fandom discourse cw #shipping discourse cw #anti discourse cw #fucking spanish inquisition over fandom stuff and fictional interests

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cuubism · 2 years

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Whump prompt :

I’m awful at suggesting prompts...but what about Malec dealing with the aftermath of the body swap? We know that Alec has a lot of guilt and Magnus is having nightmares, but I imagine the agony runes effects and the body swap in general would cause trauma that the show couldn’t really dive into given the rest plot line. Lol.

Plus, aside from the moment they have before they portal Valentine to Idris, we didn’t really get to see Malec working through it. So maybe something with that?? 🤷‍♀️

I take no offense if you send this to the trash 😂 I am just not good at sending prompts 🙈

@chibi-tsukiko you're not awful at suggesting prompts!! ❤❤

also wow this is from so long ago lmao yikes

Okay so – I made this an au where alec DOES believe magnus from the start, but still doesn’t get him out until the last second because the clave has everything pretty much locked down and he has to fight his way in. Mainly because the alec not believing magnus plotline makes me INSANE lol. So that’s different here, but everything else pretty much plays out as in canon.

(ao3)

In any other circumstance, the sight of Alec smashing through a door, sword blazing, eyes locked on Magnus as he cuts through Shadowhunter after Shadowhunter like they’re mere shadows instead of physical beings would have sent Magnus off the deep end.

Well. He does feel rather off the deep end, but not in the pleasant hauling Alec down into a searing kiss, letting their surroundings fade out so he can ravish his boyfriend way. More in the Alec’s taken off the cuffs and is speaking desperately to him and Magnus can’t even fucking hear him way.

Yep, it’s deep for sure. Magnus has no idea if there’s a bottom.

He refuses to look at his hands-that-aren’t-his, or any part of his body-that-isn’t-his, but he does manage to suck in a breath that rings loud enough through his skull that it pierces static.

“—nus. Magnus, can you hear me?”

Magnus nods shakily. “I— I can.” Alec cups his face in his hands, looking in his eyes—trying to see if he has a concussion, or maybe just if Magnus is all there. Magnus doesn’t know how Alec can even stand to touch him like this. When he’s in the body of a monster.

That first moment, when Alec thought he was Valentine, before Magnus had gotten through to him, the searing hatred and disgust in his eyes—it was straight out of Magnus’s nightmares. It was what flashed through him, like a phantom blow, every time he showed Alec his real eyes. And he knows that it wasn’t directed at him, not really. But it also was.

“You came for me,” he says quietly. His voice is too sharp, too shallow. He wants his own damn voice back.

“Of course I did. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner. The Clave wouldn’t hear reason, they were convinced you were really Valentine. I had to, um…” Alec looks back at the Shadowhunters scattered through the cell block. Magnus realizes that none of them actually appear dead, just injured or unconscious. He’s loosely grateful for it, both because he doesn’t want Alec imprisoned at the Gard and because he doesn’t want all that blood on their joined hands. None of these guards were the ones who tortured him. They were just trying to guard Valentine. What Magnus would have wanted them to do, if it were actually Valentine in the cell.

“You’ll get in trouble,” Magnus says. His throat is hoarse from screaming, he wishes he had some water.

“So will Imogen Herondale when the Council finds out she broke the Accords by planning to execute a Downworlder without trial. I’ll take my chances.”

“She didn’t know,” Magnus says. He doesn’t know why he’s defending the woman who almost killed him. Maybe because it’s the less horrifying option.

“I think she did,” Alec says quietly, and Magnus shivers. He realizes he’s clutching Alec’s arm. He doesn’t know how long he’s been doing that. “Or she just didn’t care enough to find out for sure. Either way, she wasn’t willing to wait for us to track down Valentine—and I wasn’t going to let you get executed.”

Magnus hasn’t had a chance to process his almost-death. He had plenty of time to think about it, sitting alone in his cell, shaking from the aftershocks of the agony rune. He remembers being so resigned at one point that he thought, I don’t care if I die, just let it be in my own body. But processing? That hasn’t happened.

And he doesn’t get a chance now, either. A portal spins to life outside the glass wall of Magnus’s cell, and Alec raises his seraph blade, pushing Magnus behind him.

It’s so weird to see his own body in the third person, but that’s exactly what steps out of the portal. Magnus is shocked—and weirdly grateful—that Valentine was able to figure out portal magic quickly enough to not get Magnus’s body torn apart in limbo. Then again, Magnus invented the portal. It’s as second-nature to his magic as breathing at this point.

A magic that apparently holds little loyalty for its original wielder.

Magnus is thinking about that so hard, swallowing around the sharp pain in his throat, that he almost doesn’t hear what Valentine says.

“How about a temporary truce?” the not-quite-Magnus figure says. “I’m sure you want your body back. I’m sure you—” he turns to Alec— “want your— your lover’s body back. I surely do not want to be in this disgusting creature anymore.”

Alec stiffens, grip tightening around the hilt of his blade, but doesn’t interrupt. Magnus’s ears ring to hear his own voice spitting back the words he’s so often heard from others. That cruel smirk doesn’t sit right on his face. Magnus has done a lot of wrong in his life, but he doesn’t think he’s ever been cruel.

“We’ll switch back,” Valentine continues. “I’m sure Bane knows some kind of spell for it. In return, you’ll let me walk out of this Institute. I’ll glamour myself and leave.” He pulls a stele from his pocket. Magnus briefly wonders where he got it, then realizes—it’s Alec’s spare, which he keeps in his nightstand drawer at the loft. The idea of Valentine rooting around in his bedroom makes Magnus want to vomit. “I’ll even promise not to hurt anyone while I’m here. How’s that for a deal?”

Valentine must really want out of Magnus’s body to be making so many concessions. He could have done so much damage with Magnus’s magic if he could have only stomached being a warlock. But for once in his life, Magnus has to be grateful for the man’s prejudice.

“Deal,” Alec says, before Magnus can even try to tell him that he should under no circumstances let Valentine walk out of here. But as soon as Alec speaks, relief rushes through Magnus. He knows Valentine will leave here and do more harm, that they should take any chance to stop him. But pain is making him selfish. He wants his own body back more than he wants to stop Valentine, today at least.

He doesn’t protest as Alec beckons him forward and leads them both out of the cell. Magnus thinks he dissociates a bit as he instructs Valentine on the necessary incantation. He doesn’t remember it even as it’s happening. He finds a brief moment of clarity in the thought that his magic looks crude and strange when Valentine’s wielding it.

Then he’s on the floor, the cell block spinning around him, scattered thoughts hitting him from all directions. –Lilith, this makeup feels old, doesn’t the man know any skincare? –and fuck, my knees hurt, he must have been walking differently. –everything’s so bright, are cat eyes really that much more sensitive?

Loudest of all is his magic, swirling joyfully in every corner of his being. Magnus feels a rush of guilt for feeling betrayed by it before. It’s obvious in the way it leaps and soars within him, in the ways its edges feel bruised, that it had fought against Valentine’s control, missing its true warlock. Magnus lets the warmth of it cradle him against the cold that rushes in after his senses return.

This body is violated. This body is ruined. Magnus wants to throw up, or scrub all his skin off, or tear out his internal organs, he’s not sure which first. He can feel Valentine’s fingerprints all over him.

He only regains awareness when Alec taps his shoulder, helps him sit up. Magnus is shaking so hard he can’t hide or deny it, and he realizes there’s a film of blue magic all over his skin. It’s trying to heal, even though there’s nothing on this body to patch up. Only psychic wounds.

Valentine is nowhere to be seen. Magnus focuses on Alec’s face with difficulty. “You let him get away?” He’d been sure Alec would go after Valentine as soon as their bodies were returned.

“I sent Izzy and Jace after him,” Alec says. “But who knows if they’ll catch him before he sneaks out.”

“You could have caught him,” Magnus says.

“Maybe,” Alec agrees. “But my priority is you.”

Magnus presses his face into Alec’s chest. If he doesn’t hide, he’ll start crying. Or screaming.

Alec’s arms wrap around him, and Magnus shudders and tries not to break.

---

The only word Magnus gets out, wrenched from a hoarse throat, is, “Shower,” before he’s pulling out of Alec’s arms and stumbling away towards the bedroom. Alec watches him go, unsure if he’s welcome to follow. The guilt is drowning him—for letting Valentine go? For not preventing this in the first place? He’s not entirely sure, but it’s there, heavy in his chest. He can’t imagine Magnus wants to see any Shadowhunters right now.

It's going to haunt Alec’s dreams, the image of Magnus screaming under the agony rune. Of him almost being executed. It’s going to be a thousand times worse for Magnus.

Distantly, he hears the shower turn on. Alec slips off his shoes and jacket—and, very judiciously, his weapons—and heads for the bedroom. He doesn’t want to push in on Magnus in a vulnerable state, but maybe he can at least wait for him in the bedroom, to hopefully talk to, or at least hold him, after he gets out.

He’s grateful he does when, a few minutes later, he hears the thud of what is presumably Magnus’s body hitting the floor of the shower.

Alec bolts to his feet. “Magnus?”

He doesn’t get a response, and rushes over to the bathroom door, throwing it open. “Magnus?”

Magnus is crumpled in the corner of the shower, legs twisted uncomfortably underneath him, one arm held to his chest. Alec turns off the water and crouches carefully beside him, reaching out a tentative hand. “Hey. Magnus?”

“Hurts,” Magnus whispers, barely audible. “I thought— fuck.” A shiver runs through him, from his toes up to his hair. His eyes are shut tight.

“What hurts?” Alec asks, concern shifting to alarm. He hadn’t thought Valentine had hurt Magnus’s body, but maybe—

“Agony rune,” Magnus murmurs, and then Alec understands, even if he hates it. Magic can have a psychic element to it, and magical injuries can ripple from the soul to the body and back. And any lingering effects from the agony rune must be doubly painful now that Magnus is back in a Downworlder body, no longer capable of bearing runes at all.

“Give it to me,” Alec says, holding out his hand.

Magnus finally looks up at him at that. His eyes are hazy and feverish. “Alexander.”

“Give it to me, like I give you my strength. It’ll be less painful in a Nephilim body.” And I’d take it even if it wasn’t.

It says something about how beaten down Magnus is that he places his hand in Alec’s without further protest. “Just take a bit,” he murmurs. “Not all of it.”

Like Alec’s going to listen to that. He needs to do this, needs to prevent Magnus from hurting any more. Magnus always gets hurt when he’s helping Alec. Well, no more.

He tugs on Magnus’s energy, finding it easier than he’d like to pick up the thread of pain going through it. It’s a red and writhing thing, tangled with his magic, burning at Magnus’s nerve endings. Alec pulls on it, stifling a gasp as the pain floods into him. He knows if he makes a sound, Magnus will pull away. He pulls and pulls, and grits his teeth at the shocks that run through his body. Anything he’s experiencing now is only a fraction of what Magnus has gone through over the past few days.

But Alec finds himself unable to pull anymore after less than half of the pain is gone from Magnus’s body. The rest of it is too deeply entangled with Magnus’s magic—if he pulls too hard, he could hurt him even more.

He’s forced to retreat, but when he does, Magnus is breathing easier, slumped against his shoulder over the edge of the shower. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

It’s not enough. It’s not nearly enough after what Valentine— what Azazel— what Alec’s people did to him. Alec has no idea how to make it right, but he has to start somewhere.

“Let’s get you up.” He ignores the ache in his own muscles to cradle Magnus in his arms and lift him off the floor of the shower. Magnus makes a small hum of protest, but doesn’t try to get down. Alec carries him over to the bed and sits him down, fetching one of his silk robes to wrap about him.

Magnus’s wrists look rubbed raw, and Alec takes them in his hands, brushing his thumbs over the skin. “Didn’t break the skin,” Magnus says. “It’s fine. At least I stopped before I impulsively cut off all my hair.”

It’s definitely not fine, but Magnus is right, there’s nothing to bandage. Alec just kisses one of his wrists instead. He urges Magnus further up the bed, then follows him. “Come on, lay down, you need some rest. Unless you don’t want me here?”

Magnus seems to think about it, which hurts Alec’s heart, but he can’t blame him if he doesn’t want to be touched right now. Especially by a Shadowhunter.

But eventually, Magnus’s face caves in and he says, “Please,” so brokenly that Alec has to gather him in his arms and bring him down to the bed. Magnus flicks a wrist, and a stutter of magic lays their blankets over them. The magic whirls up Magnus’s body after it’s finished, ruffling his hair.

“Seems like it missed you,” Alec murmurs.

Magnus smiles faintly. “And I it.”

He tucks his face against Alec’s shoulder. Alec holds him close, and even closer when shudders of pain continue to wrack his body. I’m sorry, Magnus. He tries to press it into Magnus’s forehead with a kiss.

---

When Alec wakes, for a brief moment he’s certain the loft is on fire.

Then he sits up, comes back to his senses, realizes there’s no smoke or flame, only heat. And Magnus isn’t in bed.

It’s still dark outside, but Alec slips out of bed and stumbles to the living room, heart thumping in his chest. Magnus is standing in the middle of the room, eyes closed, magic darting out around him in all directions. He’s still only wearing his robe.

“Magnus!” Alec steps closer until he’s right in front of him. One of the bursts of magic grazes his cheek. It feels hot, but it doesn’t burn him. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning,” Magnus says through gritted teeth. His face is sunk in tense lines, and he’s sweating all over. His hands don’t let up on their bursts of magic. “This place is tainted, Alexander.”

Alec realizes suddenly that Magnus is close to panic. He’s staving it off with whatever actions he can before it unravels him, the way Alec would by pummeling a punching bag. It hurts to see Magnus in that place. “Baby, it’s four in the morning.”

“Is it?” Magnus says faintly, still in his trance.

“Hey.” Alec takes a risk and takes Magnus’s face between his hands. “Hey, Magnus, look at me. It’s clean, okay? I promise it’s clean. The loft is spotless. You’re okay.”

Magnus lets out a ragged breath, eyes finally fluttering open. They’re bloodshot, but surprisingly lucid when he meets Alec’s gaze. “It isn’t,” he insists, but he wraps his hands around Alec’s wrists, and the furious magic dies down. “It never will be again.”

“It will. You just have to breathe. I got you.”

Magnus pants and heaves under Alec’s hands, but he seems to be finding some level of calm as they stand there in the middle of the boiling living room. Alec pushes him down to the couch.

“Will you be okay here for a second? I’m going to get you some water.”

Magnus nods, and Alec heads for the kitchen to get him a glass of cold water, stopping to open the balcony doors and let some cool air in as he does. He tries to settle his own thoughts as he walks back to the couch. He should have done something. He should have— have dragged Valentine out of Magnus’s home. He doesn’t know what he should have done, but it was more than what he did.

Magnus has his face buried in his hands when Alec returns to the couch. He’s shaking, and drenched in sweat. Alec carefully pulls his hands away from his face and places the glass of water into them. “Try to drink some water,” he urges.

Magnus sips at it, then soon enough is downing the entire glass. “Did I boil you in bed?” he asks when he’s done, a trace of humor back in his tone.

“Just a bit,” Alec says. “What’s with all the heat, anyway?”

“It kills infections,” Magnus says quietly, and Alec swallows hard. “I know it’s mostly in my head,” he continues before Alec can respond. “But I just couldn’t breathe thinking about him in our home.”

Alec’s never heard him call the loft their home before, but he doesn’t remark on it now. “It’s upsetting,” he agrees. “But we banished Azazel. We’ll get Valentine too, I promise.”

Magnus nods. “We have to.”

Alec runs a hand through his hair, and Magnus leans into the touch. “Do you want to take a second stab at that shower? I’ll go in with you, if you want.”

“Okay.” Magnus seems to steel himself, then stands up, holding onto Alec’s arm. He looks sort of chagrined about it, like he doesn’t like being so clingy, but he doesn’t let go.

Before they leave the living room, he waves his hand and shuts the balcony door. The wards will work regardless of whether the door is open, but Alec doesn’t blame him for wanting everything locked up tight. Not when everything already feels so broken open.

---

Magnus feels so humiliated letting Alec wash his hair. It’s not because they haven’t showered together before. He’s perfectly comfortable letting Alec wash his hair—when he’s not fucking losing his mind.

Bad enough he had to lose control of his body. Now his sanity’s slipping away, too.

His skin is still crawling. Even after steam-cleaning his entire apartment he feels like there’s places he missed, blood congealed in the corners. The fact that his cleaning efforts have made everything smell wrong now, have washed out incense and chai and candle smoke in favor of antiseptics and clean steam, is not helping. The apartment feels cleaner, but even less like his own.

Alec’s hands are nice, though. He seems content to let Magnus stay silent, not pushing him to talk about it. And it’s nice to shower with his own shampoo. He hadn’t gotten that far earlier before the lingering agony had taken him to the floor, and it banishes a little of the cold clean smell.

He shivers at the memory of that rune. He shivers at the idea of the Nephilim using to torture their own people, too, even ones as horrible as Valentine. Valentine probably deserves it, if no one else, but it doesn’t sit right with Magnus regardless.

Alec catches him shivering and turns off the water, wrapping Magnus in a towel.

“Do you have things you need to clear up at the Institute?” Magnus asks as he’s bundled within an inch of his life. “I don’t want Imogen Herondale breaking down my door trying to take you away from me. I may do something unwise.”

“I think Jace used his Herondale Influence to convince her not to do that,” Alec says. “Though there still may be some amount of trouble.”

Magnus doesn’t feel very capable of dealing with trouble right now.

After they’ve both managed to get into pajamas, and are lingering in the spotless kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, Alec tentatively asks, “Did you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know what to talk about,” Magnus says tiredly. “I just feel off-balance. I wasn’t sleeping well, before. Probably won’t sleep well now, either.”

“Is there something you want to do about it?”

“Flay myself alive?” Magnus suggests, and Alec flinches.

“You know,” he says softly, moments later, when his back is turned and he’s pouring their tea, “you almost died. I think it’s natural to feel this way.”

Nothing about the way Magnus is feeling feels natural. Not because he hasn’t been in similar mental states before, but because they never feel natural. They feel like the world is twisting and shifting around him.

“When, um,” Alec continues, tone more hesitant now, as he spoons sugar into their tea, “when I got possessed by that demon, I think I was feeling kind of similar to how you are now. I mean, it was kind of the opposite experience, but still kind of similar, I think.”

They had talked about that then, but somehow Magnus hadn’t made the connection.

“So I kind of— I kind of get it. It’s okay if you feel all over the place for a while. And I mean, you helped me then. I want to help you now.”

Magnus swallows hard, leaning back against the edge of the counter. “What about me helped you then?”

Alec finally turns back around and hands him his tea. “Just… being with you. Having you hold me, making me feel like I was in my body again.”

Magnus lets out a breath. “Okay,” is all he can manage.

Alec comes to stand beside him, leaning against the counter, close enough that his shoulder brushes Magnus’s. Magnus leans against his side, closing the remaining distance. They stay like that, sipping their tea, as the first rays of sun trickle up over the horizon. Magnus lets Alec’s warmth bleed into him, and eventually, Alec entwines their fingers, squeezing Magnus’s hand hard. Holding on.

I’m here, Magnus reminds himself. His hands are his own. The heat of the ceramic is touching his skin. The heat of the sun is touching his face. He got out of that horrible place. He got out.

Eventually, he puts down his mug with shaky hands and folds himself into Alec’s arms. Alec holds him tight until Magnus’s skin reattaches to his body. And then after, too.

#my writing #malec #malec fic #ask #chibi-tsukiko #body swap episode

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hold-our-destiny · 3 years

Text

so i thought since im not really writing much lately, id put a big list of all my ideas with brief summaries and if you guys wanted to see any in particular i could try to write a small oneshot of it.

1. basically peter having a long conversating with tony about the struggles of having his enhancements and explaining how he cant even kill himself because of his healing (like the scene from avengers)

2. Endgame au- “Hey peter? Its Tony- We did it. We won, pete- we won. Please Peter” then when peter’s in a coma he listens to a voicemail left by him before he left for the field trip (saved on insta) at some point peter says “i just wanted to be like you”

3. V slow (almost) major character death- three quick gunshots and a thump- peter worrying about tony’s head wound.

4. peter and harley falling in love (3k words) in tumblr drafts for harley

5. tony breaking down in the middle of a fight

6. Stony soulmate au- sharing scars.

7. “I didn’t think you cared about me”

8. Peter dragged underwater

9. Steve reading bucky’s journal in civil war

10. peter tries to help tony in siberia but gets hypothermia way more than tony does. after like a week steve comes back and tony screams at him cause peters in a coma, maybe steve finds him in the medbay

11. Parkner last words soulmate au

12. peter gets infected with anthrax

13.steve and peter kidnapped thing- peter bring scared of tony cause they used his tech against him

14. parkner hanahaki but with recovery and peter coughing up the rest of the flowers= whump. basically peter loves harley, passes out cause he can’t breathe and nearly dies, tells harley, and has to spend a week throwing up the rest of the flowers and being so tired he can’t stand

15. tony faking his death and peter and steve getting mad when they find out he’s alive

16. rhodey tony falling in love+ going to warrrr

17. okay so tony maybe almost dying and peter crying about it?

18. peter gets kidnapped after an argument saying “i know- i know you’re mad but- p-please Mr stark- please help m-me, i’m sorry” cause he thinks tonys mad at him.

19. steve helping peter with harassers- drafts

20. tony whump being kidnapped and refusing to give info on spiderman and peter saves him with rhodey and gets shot but because of adrenaline they don’t realise until they’re outside and peter collapses

21. the scene where he gets shot from enola holmes but it’s irondad- peter has a bulletproof vest on and gets shot by a shotgun and tony thinks he’s dead cause he’s oncounscious from being thrown into a wall

22. okay so what about a situation where tony and peter are at a press event and peter gets shot. just imagine what tony would be saying as he catches him and slowly lowers him to the floor.“it’s okay, i gotcha. holy shit- you’re gunna be okay, kid. come on, eyes on me-“ keeping on talking until the medics get there, still not leaving the kids limp form. Peters eyes never leave him, glazed over but never closing.Of course, when he wakes up later, Tony will be a little teary eyed sat by his bed, probably making a joke about “god kid, you’re not supposed to outlive your old man” Peter not wanting to be alone when he dies

23. tony and peter on a mission and tony goes to find peter cause he’s not responding and he’s unconscious cause of poison- tetrodotoxin B

24. Peter put in a cage thing with bucky when hes triggered into being the winter soldier and being on comms with steve and the others.

25. 5 times tony and peter thought they lost each other and the one time they nearly did.

26. Degloving

27. parkner voicemail with peter almost dying, end is him coming home. season 2 ep 3 of 911

28. soulmates rhodyetony can feel each other’s pain. rhodey knowing tony’s alive in im1

29. parkner enemies to lovers only one bed nightmare

30. character study of the mcu, ned, sam, wanda, mj, bucky,

31. harley thinking peter is dead, dealing with grief after a kidnapping

32. Prompt 885: Stephen and Tony were together before Afghanistan. They hit a rough patch when Stephen has his accident and the Accords are proposed. The stress causes a huge fight where Tony tells Stephen to get out and never contact him again. Stephen is crushed and leaves for Kathmandu the next day, leaving only a voicemail saying goodbye and asking Tony to not blame himself. The general consensus is he committed suicide. CA:CW and DS happen, and Tony runs into a changed Stephen in Greenwich Village.

33. basically incredibles- steve’s taken by hydra and peter and tony are in a plane when hydra attacks them, tony’s telling them to abort and steve slowly realises he could lose his family, then it blows up and tony calls a suit to peter. peters got broken ribs and bruises because of moving around and tony sends out a signal to the team

34. peter nearly dies on a mission, tony’s yelling at him and he breaks down crying when he realises what could’ve happened

35. peter nearly gets kidnapped/ sold and he’s really shaken up about it he won’t leave harley or tony

36. peter and tony are kidnapped, peters conditioned and at one point the kidnapper gives him a truth serum and asks intimate questions/ he’s not conditioned and it’s either ask the questions or take the punishment-

37. bucky getting back from hydra and coping? steve feeling sad, finding out bucky can feel his arm and tried to rip it out, tony helping? the scene in the woods with the trigger words and steve being there really sad and shit- also thinking pierce was steve

38. peter flinching during an argument

39. bucky having to pretend to be winter again in a mission

40. Peter telling tony about skip

41. ya know the hypothetical about hydra training bucky to give people guns incase they need to ‘execute’ the soldier, and him giving steve a guy.

42. peter being trapped in the soul stone when he gets snapped, him being the only one there because of his mutation or something (his soul was too strong to be broken for the time so it had to be contained) plus dissociation when he gets back

43. peter and bucky kidnapped together, tony and steve both worried as hell and having to work together and bond to get them back

44. soulmate mind talking- peter getting into trouble/kidnapping? make collection for soulmates

45. peter and tony are running from kidnappers, peter gets caught in a bear trap. maybe include steve.

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whumpmatsus · 3 years

Note

Hi! 👋 Two things! First, a fic request (again Ichimatsu whump because I'm sorry but I have to): Ichimatsu takes a hit meant for one of his brothers (be it accidental or on purpose) and is pretty badly injured. Cue the rest of the Matsu Bros. to the rescue!

And second, um...would you be okay with it if, let's just say hypothetically, I made fan art of some of these fics? 😺

FIRST OF ALL thank you for this because it's LITERALLY the longest thing I've written on this blog so far!! so I hope u enjoy it fully uwu

Matsu Bros plus a cameo by Mama Matsu!! <3

second... YESSSS THAT IS ALWAYS DEFINITELY OKAY!!! aaaaaaa you flatter me <3 <3 <3

When Ichimatsu first wakes up in the hospital, he doesn’t remember why he’s here. Hell, he barely even remembers who he is.

All he really knows initially is that he’s in a lot of pain. It hurts to breathe, his face is kind of numb in spots, and his leg feels weirdly positioned, plus heavy and uncomfortable. His shoulder feels kind of sore… as does his wrist.

There’s also some strange fog drifting around his mind that’s making it difficult to really focus on anything.

He feels a hand in his own. Not very tight… he thinks it’s someone giving just enough pressure to let him know they’re here. That he’s not alone. That’s comforting, he thinks.

Then he starts to remember things.

He was out walking with some of the others; Karamatsu and maybe Totty? What they were doing is a little fuzzy and isn’t coming to him instantly. He just recalls they were together, walking on the sidewalk. They came to a crosswalk and waited their turn. Karamatsu, as the eldest out of the three, stepped forward first to cross.

Ichimatsu thinks Karamatsu’s intention was that he would hold Totty’s hand to keep the youngest safe while they crossed, and Ichimatsu could follow after them. He doesn’t believe Totty had any objections.

They waited. They followed all the rules they were supposed to. The crosswalk light told them they were allowed to go.

It was someone else who broke the rules, tearing through a stop sign, the car headed right for his brothers. He… thinks he remembers Totty had only just come forward to grab Karamatsu’s hand, so he wasn’t quite there yet. Karamatsu was the one in the most danger.

He doesn’t remember much else. Running forward, pushing his baby brother behind him and yelling for his big brother to move.Then an impact. A lot of pain. Black and nothingness and warmth.

Now he’s awake. Putting the pieces together, he’s pretty sure he shoved Karamatsu forward and ended up getting hit by that car.

He thinks, in his haze, that the car should have hit Karamatsu, because he was the one who went first, because things happened so fast. But he’s glad it didn’t happen that way.

A couple groans catch the attention of whoever’s in the room, and he gets a squeeze to the hand. “Ichimatsu? Honey? Are you awake?”

“Mmh…” It hurts a little to move his head. He does it anyway, getting a glimpse of his mother. “… Mom…?”

It looks like she’s smiling… relieved, maybe. “Yes! Yes, my sweet boy, Mama is here.” She reaches her free hand over to gently stroke his hair. It feels nice. “Thank goodness. How do you feel?”

He closes his eyes. “I hurt.”

“Well, I should hope so! I’d be worried if you weren’t in a lot of pain right now. Do you remember what happened?”

Although he tries to move around, it’s difficult simply because it’s so painful. “Uh, yeah, kind of… I got… hit by a car, right? ― H… hey… Karamatsu and Totty… where are they? Are they okay?”

“Yes, dear, they’re both fine. Karamatsu has a couple of scrapes, but nothing serious. You, on the other hand, are lucky, young man. You’ve got a broken leg, a couple of broken ribs, and a broken wrist. You did have a dislocated shoulder, but they got that back into place. The doctor said it could have been much worse. She said you got off easy compared to some people who get hit by a car.”

She combs his bangs back in a way that mitigates any anger or frustration in her next words. “What were you thinking?”

“The car was coming for Karamatsu…” He frowns as the memory surfaces again, in slightly better detail. Damn. “… And Totty didn’t see it… he was gonna step out, too…”

Everything seemed to happen so fast. How the hell did he manage to get his older brother out of the way and keep his younger brother out of the way when everything happened so fast?

Matsuyo sighs and continues stroking his hair. “Oh, I know… they were both in tears when we all arrived. Totty was inconsolable… saying that Karamatsu would be dead if you hadn’t run forward and that he thought you were dead because you weren’t responding. I should be mad that you scared your brothers… but…”

She leans forward to kiss his forehead. “… You did a brave thing, Ichimatsu. Mama is very proud of you. I just don’t like any of you boys hurt… if you’re inclined to do this again, pull the other person back instead of taking their place. You silly boy,” she adds with an affectionate smile.

“Hah…” he laughs weakly, wincing at the pain in his chest. “Sorry, Mom. Everything hurts… I wanna go home.”

“Mhm, they’ll probably let you go pretty soon now that you’re awake. That’s the main thing they were waiting for, I think.” She moves her hand down to pat lightly at his forearm.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be home before you know it, and your family will take good care of you.”

Coming home is kind of weird.

Ichimatsu can’t really walk on his own. Since his leg is broken, the doctor gave him a crutch that he can use with his good hand, but it’s an awkward movement and leaves him feeling unbalanced. It’s just easier to lean on one of his brothers to walk ― in this case, Choromatsu has volunteered to help if Ichimatsu needs to walk somewhere. Though… he gets the feeling that the others would be more than happy to volunteer if the third eldest were somehow busy when he needs to get up.

Every motion, from sitting up to reaching for things to just breathing, is painful thanks to the broken ribs. There’s nothing that can really be done for those, so he’s evidently got to just suffer. He remembers the doctor saying they should feel quite a bit better in a couple of weeks. Most of this is going to take a month or more to fully heal, which is… according to Osomatsu, a ‘major boner-killer’.

Sitting around doing nothing but being in pain is going to be the end of Ichimatsu. He’s sure of that. He can’t go outside to feed the cats, and it’s difficult to cuddle with them inside with all his injuries. That alone is pretty depressing.

The pain medication they sent him home with is also a little frustrating. The first time he takes it, it makes him so tired he sleeps right through dinner.

He falls asleep on the couch in the spare room, he knows, because it’s where he has to be set up for now. There’s noway he can sleep in the futon with everyone else while he tries to heal; that runs the risk of running into someone, or having one of his brothers accidentally run into him.

His leg’s in a cast and his wrist is in a splint, to protect them as they fix themselves, but if those areas have someone roll onto them, it’ll probably result in more damage. Which means more pain and more time added to his recovery.

It’s apparently a bad idea to sleep on the couch. When he wakes up, everything is sore and screaming in pain. Justified, unfortunately, since he fell asleep in the same position he was relaxing in.

Someone else… is here? There’s something warm pressed up against his side.

He glances over to find that he’s evidently been resting on Karamatsu’s shoulder, likely for a while given that Karamatsu’s eyes are closed too. It looks dark out, and Ichimatsu’s foggy mind busies itself wondering what time it is.

There’s a soft chuckle beside him, and looking over reveals one of his big brother’s eyes is cracked open now. It’s swiftly followed by the other one, then the sudden absence of a pressure around his shoulder makes him aware that Karamatsu had an arm around him. “Awake, hm?”

“Yeah…” He tries to stretch, stopped short when a jolting pain in his chest reminds him that it’s definitely a bad idea. “Oww. I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

“That’s alright. You started to get a bit drowsy about half an hour after Osomatsu-nii-san gave you your medicine. We saved you a plate from dinner, though, if you want me to go warm it up.”

Ichimatsu blinks. “I slept through dinner?? Shit. How late is it right now?”

His brother shifts a bit more to take out his phone. “Hm… a bit after midnight.”

“Midnight?” Well, fuck. Although he can justify an hour nap or so, he’s just slept like six hours. He missed dinner, he missed going to the bathhouse, he missed maybe a game of cards before bed.

Karamatsu laughs again, his hand tousling Ichimatsu’s hair fondly. “That’s right, my brother. Don’t worry. Osomatsu-nii-san said fatigue is a side effect of your medicine, and your body needs sleep right now, anyway. So, are you hungry? Mommy made soba and yakitori for dinner, but if you’d rather have something else, just say the word. Your wish is my command!”

Honestly… he’s not really that hungry. He knows he should probably eat; his stomach is just trying to tell him not to have anything heavy. Another side effect of the medication, maybe. “Are you… sure? I kind of just feel like plain miso and rice. Other stuff doesn’t sound good.”

“Of course! I’d be delighted to go heat some up. You simply rest and I’ll…” When he goes to stand up, something catches Ichimatsu’s eye, and he grabs his brother’s hand, weakly, with his own injured one. It’s painful, but…

Karamatsu’s eyes focus on his younger brother, brows furrowing. “Ichimatsu? What’s the matter?”

It’s… that cut on Karamatsu’s face. Ichimatsu didn’t notice it before. Now that he’s a bit more alert, it’s practically all he can see. It’s not very big, maybe the length of one of their little fingers, and not deep. It looks like a scrape from falling off one’s bike or something. He thinks maybe it had a bandage on it at one point. The color has faded into something dull; the skin around is still bright pink, though, suggesting that it’s irritated despite not being cut.

His gaze shifts down to find similar wounds on Karamatsu’s hands. On the palms, where he probably got a sort of road rash when he tried to catch himself after Ichimatsu pushed him out of the way.

His own wrist protests with a violent throb as he reaches to let his fingers graze lightly over Karamatsu’s wrist. Image after image of what might have happened to him if Ichimatsu wasn’t fast enough comes unbidden into his head. Karamatsu could be the one with a broken leg or broken ribs, or it could have been worse.

“Y… you’re okay… right?” As soon as those words are out of his mouth, tears start spilling. All at once he’s pulled into a hug, loose fists resting against his back. He can’t stop himself from leaning in, pressing his face against Karamatsu’s shoulder.

He can feel the soft rumble of mirthless laughter his big brother gives. “You’re the one who was hurt, Ichimatsu. I’m only okay because of you. If you hadn’t seen… I wasn’t paying attention…”

The words, “It should have been me”, hang heavily in the air even though Karamatsu doesn’t say them.

He brushes a delicate kiss over the side of his little brother’s forehead. “Heh… you would have been a better big brother than me. You kept us all safe when I failed. You probably saved my life, you know. Thank you.”

Ichimatsu isn’t sure why it’s now that the full weight of everything has hit him. Now, when he’s home and out of danger, when everything is okay. Shouldn’t he have been falling apart when he first woke up in the hospital? It shouldn’t have taken seeing Karamatsu’s small injuries to remind him that they all could have died when he’s the one in a cast.

It’s hard to keep himself together, to keep his breathing normal so he doesn’t completely go to pieces. (Though, if he did, what better place to do so than in his older brother’s arms?) “… You’d do the same for me, right? So it’s only fair.”

“I would,” Karamatsu hums. “Without a second thought. You’re my little brother and I love you very much and if I could save you from being hurt, I would. I’m… sorry I was so careless that I couldn’t do it this time.”

Ichimatsu grunts, slipping his good arm around Karamatsu’s waist in an effort to be closer. “Don’t feel too bad. The next car’ll be yours.”

After eating as much as he feels like he can, Ichimatsu allows Karamatsu to help transfer him to the floor. It’s already set up with a spare futon, a blanket, and a pillow, probably because someone guessed that sleeping on the sofa wouldn’t be comfortable.

He’s still in so much pain. The shoulder that was reduced back into place aches like an old war wound, and his chest is sore even when he’s lying still. To say nothing of his wrist and his leg. His whole body feels like one giant bruise, except worse.

Although Karamatsu insists he’d be just fine to stand guard all night, after a few minutes Choromatsu comes in and sends him back to the bedroom. Ichimatsu doesn’t hear too much of the conversation ― mostly whispers that Karamatsu needs to go get some sleep, that Choromatsu is glad to take a turn.

Soon enough, though, Karamatsu relents and comes to tell Ichimatsu goodnight before he leaves the room. Ichimatsu gets one more kiss on the head and a reassuring squeeze to his good hand and exchanges another round of “I love you”s with his brother, then heads into the bedroom.

Choromatsu came prepared, setting his own pillow up on the couch and tossing a blanket at the end just in case he needs it. “So… how are you feeling, Ichimatsu?”

“Mm… like crap, kinda.” He looks over to where his brother is trying to get settled in. “I can’t believe I slept six hours and I’m still tired. What kind of shit did they put me on?”

“Hah… y-yeah, it’s the good stuff, probably. Is it at least helping the pain a little?”

“A little. Like Mom said before we left the hospital, I… guess it’d be more worrying if I wasn’t in pain right now. I did get hit by a car.”

Choromatsu leans forward and places a cautious hand on his little brother’s head. Once that earns him no punishment, he gingerly combs through Ichimatsu’s hair. It certainly feels relaxing. “You sure did. I… I can’t believe you kept both Karamatsu and Totty safe. Adrenaline’s a… a weird thing, huh? I’m glad you’re all okay. Hopefully the pain medicine will work better once you’ve had a few doses.”

“Mh. I hope so.”

“Yeah. For now, just, uh… just try to get some more sleep, okay? Your body needs a lot of rest while you’re healing.”

Yep, that’s what Karamatsu said, too. Two of his brothers saying the same thing can’t be wrong. … Well, they could be, but it would be weird. “I’ll try. Thanks for… being here. I dunno that I’d really want to sleep alone for the whole night. Guess Totty’s rubbing off on me.”

A low chuckle leaves Choromatsu as Ichimatsu closes his eyes. The sound of rustling suggests that his older brother has laid down and pulled a blanket over himself as well.

After a moment of quiet between them, Ichimatsu becomes keenly aware of a sensation that definitely isn’t going to allow him to sleep. “Uuuugh. Shit.”

“Huh?” Choromatsu is sitting up in an instant, ready to practically spring out of his skin. “What’s wrong, Ichimatsu?”

“― My leg itches.”

“O-oh. So… scratch it??”

He throws his head back in frustration. “No, the one with the Goddamn cast on it.”

“Ohhh. Okay, uh, well…” Choromatsu gets up and rummages through one of the drawers for a few seconds.

After that, a pencil is pressed into Ichimatsu’s good hand with a smile. “Here, try this. Stick the eraser end down in the little space between your leg and the cast, then keep moving it. If the itch is high enough up, it should help.”

Ichimatsu raises an eyebrow at the advice. Well. What’s he got to lose, after all? He spends a moment trying to get the itch scratched after slipping the pencil down, and finally he sighs in relief. “Fuck, that’s a lot better. How’d you know that was gonna work?”

Choromatsu grins self-consciously, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Ah, well… remember when I broke my arm? When I went for my checkup, I had this itch inside the cast that was driving me nuts. So the nurse showed me this trick. It doesn’t always work, but…”

“Huh… well… thanks.” After everything, he’s just really tired and ready to sleep now. He would cross his fingers that nothing else disturbs him if he felt like moving at all.

“Heh, no problem. All good now?”

“I think so.” When he sees his brother straighten up to head back to the couch, his brain evidently thinks it’s good to say something. “H… hey. Choromatsu?”

Choromatsu looks back down, concern etched on his features. “Ah, yeah? What’s up?”

His heart is hammering so fast it feels like it’s trying to break more of his ribs. He doesn’t really want to embarrass himself. It’s just… he feels… “Can you… can you… stay for a minute? Down here?”

“Oh… yeah, sure. I can’t stay too long… I-I can’t sleep next to you. I might accidentally hurt you.” Even so, he lowers himself back down, sitting cross-legged and reaching to stroke Ichimatsu’s hair.

He nods. That’s part of the problem. Even though he normally wouldn’t have much complaint about being left to his own devices… he’s used to sleeping next to his brothers. Right on the end beside Karamatsu. When he’s not feeling well, being absent from them is apparently not doing him any favors. “I know. It’s just…”

His eyes drift closed once more. It must be the medicine making him feel out of it and way too honest. “… I think I’m gonna get lonely sleeping like this.”

“O-oh… gosh.” He can practically hear the frown in Choromatsu’s voice. The other man’s hand combs through his hair, a rhythmic and repetitive motion that makes him sleepy again. “I can probably… sleep like this, propped up against the couch. Is that okay?”

“Mmmh… I don’t want you to have to do that… you’ll make your back sore.”

He chuckles. “Ah, I-I think I can handle it. Even if that’s true, it’d be worth it to me so you don’t have to feel lonely. It’s the least I can do for my little brother.”

“I can’t stop you,” Ichimatsu mumbles. Sleep is scrabbling its tiny, strong fingers at him, trying to pull him down. It’s getting hard to resist. “If you want…”

“Yeah… yeah, I wanna do this for you.” Choromatsu leans down to press a small kiss to the top of Ichimatsu’s head. “Hey. Love you, Ichimacchan. Try to get some rest, okay?”

He doesn’t have to tell Ichimatsu twice. Within a minute of Choromatsu’s urging, he’s fallen back into a peaceful darkness.

When Ichimatsu wakes up the next morning, Choromatsu’s presence has been replaced by Jyushimatsu’s.

As much as he loves his immediate older brother, he doesn’t have any complaints. He and Jyushimatsu are very close, and his younger brother being here is pretty soothing to wake up to.

He’s uncharacteristically quiet, though that’s not to say he isn’t his usual energetic self. He appears to be flipping through baseball cards, maybe organizing them in his little album, humming to himself. There’s also one hand free to play with Ichimatsu’s hair, which he supposes is why he still feels relaxed.

“Hey, Jyushi.” His body reminds him why stretching is a bad idea right now, so he settles for arching his back a little in an effort to make something pop. Everything is sore. Even that little bit of movement hurts his ribs enough that he has trouble catching his breath for a minute. “Fuck… morning.”

“Oh! Yeah, it is morning!” Jyushimatsu is chipper as always, though when he leans in for a hug, he’s surprisingly gentle. “How’d you sleep, Ichimatsu-nii-san?”

“Okay, I guess. I still hurt a bunch.”

“Yeahhhh, you were crying in your sleep! But it’s okay! Because guess what? Jyushi is here!” He grins, nuzzling his cheek against Ichimatsu’s. It’s a bit weird, but par for the course as far as Jyushimatsu is concerned. Besides, the hug is nice after the fear of being lonely last night. “Did you have nightmares, huh?”

Now that he mentions it… yep. Ichimatsu’s dreams, or what he remembers of them, were filled with horrible things. The memory of being hit by the car, or the images of either Karamatsu or Totty being hit because he wasn’t fast enough.

He recalls one piece of a dream which involved looking into his own chest and seeing the end of a fractured rib shatter his glass heart.

A shudder runs through his body, prompting Jyushimatsu to tighten his grip just slightly. “Oh, you’re cold! It’s past breakfast, ‘cause you slept for a really long time, but I’ll go get you some tea!! Sound good?”

Given that his appetite hasn’t come back from war, that sounds better than anything else. Though he did manage to choke down that rice and miso last night, he’s not sure if he wants to eat even anything bland. “Yeah, sounds good. Put just a little bit of agave syrup in it for me?”

“Yeah! Anything for Ichimatsu-nii-san! Be right back, okay?”

With Jyushimatsu, ‘be right back’ is typically how it goes. He’s only gone for a few minutes, or at least it only seems like a few minutes.

Regardless, Ichimatsu has a cup of tea in his hand relatively quickly. Almost as if his brother predicted that it would be difficult to hold something very hot with only one hand, the tea is warm, not boiling hot.

It’s easier to balance it with one hand, plus this means it’s pretty much the perfect temperature to drink. As he starts to sip it, he feels Jyushimatsu’s hand, covered entirely by his sleeve, rubbing affectionately between his shoulder blades. “It’s good, huh?”

He swallows and gives the other a nod. “Yeah, pretty good. Thanks.” Thankfully, it should wake him up, too. He’s still feeling kind of groggy.

“Good!! Osomatsu-nii-san said he’s gonna give you your medicine in a minute, since I told him you were up and hurting.” Jyushimatsu shoves his binder of cards away, shifting up to sit on the sofa. “Do you want me to move you up here after you’re done drinking?”

“Probably, yeah. You got anything you wanna do today?” Another sip, and he sighs in relief feeling the warmth flow through him. Damn.He can’t believe he could take something as simple as a cup of tea in the morning for granted. “I can’t really help with baseball practice… but we could watch TV together or something.”

“Sure! We can watch whatever you want!” After only a few seconds, Jyushimatsu wiggles himself back down and leans against his big brother’s shoulder. “Hey, Ichimatsu-nii-san… I’m really glad you’re okay. Even though you’re hurt and everything, you’re home with us instead of… being not home with us!”

The least he can do is let his head rest gently against Jyushimatsu’s. “Yeah… I’m glad I’m home, too. Don’t think I’d rather be anywhere else.”

Jyushimatsu nods eagerly, making a brief, dull wave of pain wash through Ichimatsu. However, he’d rather have that pain than not have his little brother close. “We’ll take really good care of you! Just say if you need anything, okay? I’m really strong and I can get anything! … And if I can’t, Osomatsu-nii-san probably can!”

“Heh.” Ichimatsu takes another gulp of his tea. “You guys are the best.”

True to Jyushimatsu’s word, Osomatsu is in pretty soon to give Ichimatsu the painkillers. For whatever reason, even when he can’t be trusted with literally anything else, the eldest is pretty good at monitoring medicine when one of the others needs it.

All things being equal, Ichimatsu has a lot of faith in taking medicine when Osomatsu keeps track of it. He knows how much was dispensed, how many Ichimatsu is supposed to take and how often, how many are left, and all the related things. He’s like some kind of idiot savant who was put on Earth to be a pill counter.

After he takes it, he expects to start getting tired again, so he silently begs Osomatsu to stay on the couch with him. They’re all supposed to be hanging out anyway, based on what Jyushimatsu said, so right now he decides he wants to be close to his oldest brother for a little bit.

Osomatsu seems all too happy to oblige, snuggling Ichimatsu as close as he dares to. It’s probably not a good idea to use normal force, so the touches are… lighter than usual. It’s not so bad.

He settles in on Osomatsu’s shoulder, trying to get his eyes to focus on the show Jyushimatsu turned it to for him. It’s kind of unfortunate that he’s almost certainly going to fall asleep on it. “You guys are taking really good care of me,” he sighs, letting his eyes slip closed. “You want my allowance? Or, like… a bag of sardines?”

Osomatsu snorts. “What? You’re nuts, man. We’re taking care of you because we want to and because you need it. I mean, if I was sitting here with a broken leg, a broken wrist, broken ribs, and had to have my shoulder cherry popped back into place, wouldn’t you all be like, ‘Wow, maybe we should give the poor bastard a hand’? We’re just doing the same thing for you that we’d do for any one of us.”

Ichimatsu huffs. “Yeah, well… you’re all doing a lot. Karamatsu went in the kitchen past midnight to make me miso and rice, Choromatsu probably fucked up his back sleeping against the couch so I wouldn’t be lonely, Jyushi’s waiting on me, and you’ve got my medicine on a damn schedule or something.”

“Yeah, well,” Osomatsu grins, “I can’t leave it up to you, crackhead.”

He can’t help but chuckle at that. Even so, it’s not going to make him totally drop this. “I’m serious. You guys are…”

Osomatsu nudges him carefully. “We’re being brothers, you boner. I know we suck at showing it sometimes, but… you know we all love each other, right? I guess it’s easier to show it when one of us is sick or hurt. Just so happens you’re the hurt one right now. And also your ass is on painkillers, so everything seems weird to you.”

… Okay, so maybe he can’t fault that logic. Still, though.

They’re both quiet for a long moment while they watch the screen, then Osomatsu lets out a soft hum. “You did good, you know. I don’t like that you tried to get yourself killed, but you did good.”

“I wasn’t trying to get myself killed,” Ichimatsu retorts with the nastiest facial expression he can muster right now. “I didn’t wanna get hit, either. But Karamatsu and Totty weren’t paying attention… I didn’t want them to get hit. I was trying to get us all out of that way… I just wasn’t fast enough.”

Osomatsu scoffs before reaching his hand up to ruffle Ichimatsu’s hair. He appears to be getting a lot of pets like that lately, not that he’s complaining. It feels really good and is one of the biggest comforts he has right now. “You protected them, anyway. I can’t say too much, because you didn’t do anything I wouldn’t have done if it were me.”

Ichimatsu offers a low, mocking wail. “Oh, shit. I’m turning into you. I think I’d rather be a cat. If I were a really bratty cat, you’d still be nice enough to feed me sardines and scratch behind my ears, right?”

“Uhhhh, I guess. You’re changing the subject, you dick.” A small puff of laughter makes his bangs move. “I just… wanna say I really respect you, man. Sometimes I remember the days when you would kick Karamatsu in the leg just for breathing the wrong way. And when you used to blow Totty off to hang with your friends in high school.”

He gets a shrug in response. “People change. We’ve all changed a lot.”

“Yeah, sure. I know.” His arm shifts down and he squeezes Ichimatsu’s good hand in that reassuring, proud way only an older sibling can. “They haven’t all been good changes. But seeing you trying to keep the others safe… that’s a a good change. Just gotta give you your props, Ichimacchan.”

He’s too tired to really argue with Osomatsu. Despite the fact that he knows he’s the shittiest of them all, he has to at least silently acknowledge that what he did prevented one of his older brothers and his baby brother from being in the same pain he’s in right now.

Instead of saying anything meaningful, he just presses himself in more against Osomatsu and mutters, “That’s nice. I’m tired.”

Osomatsu snorts and Ichimatsu feels a light kiss on top of his head. “Alright, dumbass, get some sleep. The pills are probably kicking in. Let me know if you need anything.”

Ichimatsu thinks that, right now, all he needs is his big brother to be the perfect pillow, and he’s doing a pretty good job of that.

Although it’s not dark at all the next time Ichimatsu wakes up, it’s significantly later than he meant to sleep. 3 P.M., meaning that once again he’s slept through a meal ― lunch, this time.

Just like last night, he finds that he’s not really all that hungry. Even so, it might be a good idea to eat, so probably he ask Osomatsu to get him something small.

When he shifts and looks over, though, Osomatsu isn’t there anymore. Instead, there’s Totty…

… Oh.

He’s holding onto Ichimatsu pretty tight. Ichimatsu isn’t sure he can move too much with the way Totty is holding him.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Totty? Everything okay?”

His little brother stiffens, wide eyes suddenly turning up to look at him. Unlike what he noticed about Karamatsu, Totty doesn’t have any physical injuries, but… the skin around his eyes is red and puffy. “Y… yeah, it’s all good. Sorry, am I hurting you?”

“No… not really hurting.” He doesn’t remember having seen Totty too much after everything happened. He visited Ichimatsu in the hospital, all teary-eyed and not talking, before they were all allowed to take him home. Once he got home, though, he can’t recall Totty being around a lot even though everyone else was.

He assumed Totty was freaked out after everything and avoiding him just because he’s emotional right now. Seems Ichimatsu was right about that.

He maneuvers his good arm to put it around Totty’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. “Have you been crying? You sure you’re okay?”

Totty sniffles and dips his head down. “Yeah, sorry… I just…”

“Don’t be sorry, dumbass.” Even though it hurts a little to move so much, Ichimatsu cuddles his brother in against him. “It’s fine, you big crybaby. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“I should be the one making sure you’re okay.” Regardless, Totty nestles in, tucking his head under Ichimatsu’s chin. It’s a bit of a weight on his hurt ribs, but it’s not that bad. “… H-hey. I, um. You know. I… I love you.”

Huh. It’s been a while since Totty has said that point-blank to any of his brothers, Ichimatsu thinks. It’s kind of nice to hear. He closes his eyes and offers an appreciative hum. “I love you, too. That it?”

Totty lets out a frustrated sigh, and Ichimatsu can just imagine the pout he has on his face. Kinda cute. He can’t really help himself; the youngest is always gonna be the baby, always gonna be adorable, even when he’s acting like a little bitch or if he wants to deny it. “I wanted to… say I’m sorry.”

“For…?”

“For… everything! Y-you know, for almost getting hit and… I mean, you got hurt trying to protect me and Karamatsu! If I hadn’t tried to follow him without even looking… you wouldn’t have had to worry about me. And… and I haven’t been with you too much since you got home…”

He nuzzles his head against Ichimatsu’s collarbone, kneading his hand against the top of his brother’s good leg. “I’m sorry about that. It’s just… I’ve been… really upset. It was scary, seeing the car hit you…”

The hum Ichimatsu gives this time is lower, pensive and understanding. “Yeah. Mom said you were crying a lot when she got to the hospital. ‘S okay to be kinda freaked out, you know.”

“Yeah, I know… and I was… am.I was scared the whole time… Karamatsu tried to wake you up, but you were just lying there and you wouldn’t…” Totty sniffles and his hand curls into a weak fist against Ichimatsu’s knee. “I didn’t wanna lose you, Ichimatsu-nii-san, and I was really afraid you were gone. I’m happy you’re okay… I just… I-I was pretty sure I was gonna cry the first time I tried to take care of you, so I… wanted to be alone with you. Crying in front of all you guys is…”

Ichimatsu nods to quiet his brother, ghosting a kiss over the top of Totty’s head. “I get it. It’s okay, Totty. C’mere, okay… you don’t have to be sorry for being freaked out and not wanting to cry and all that shit. I’m sure Karamatsu’s freaked out, too. And everyone else. Don’t apologize for your feelings, stupid.”

An indignant huff is the response he gets, before Totty presses in against Ichimatsu’s uninjured shoulder. “It just makes me think a lot,” he finally confesses.

Ichimatsu smirks. “Right. And you’re so out of practice with thinking, it’s hard. I know.”

“Th-that’s not it, you jerk!” Totty whines and brings his arms in, curled against his chest. His knees come up onto the couch, folded under him, as he tries to get comfortable. “It makes me think… anything could happen, at any moment, and that… might be it.And I know we’re all shitty to each other a lot of the time, but… but I love all of you.”

He sniffles, snuggling against Ichimatsu when his big brother pulls him even closer. “The thought that one of us might… die… I-I didn’t… I didn’t know how afraid I was of that… till I thought it happened. If one of us wasn’t here… it… it wouldn’t be the same anymore.”

“… Yeah.” Ichimatsu gives Totty a squeeze that’s maybe a little tighter than necessary. It’s not like he can pretend that Totty is wrong. He’s right. Even though they’re all assholes and treat each other like crap sometimes, the last thing any of them want is for their family to be… incomplete.

They sit quietly for what feels like a long time, holding each other. Breathing. Just existing in sync, in perfect understanding for a while.

Sometimes, it’s true, Ichimatsu is kind of a death seeker. Sometimes he really does want to die. Sometimes he doesn’t care about anything, and just wants it all to end so he doesn’t have to deal with the weight of life anymore.

Sometimes, though… sometimes he fights death with all he has. He thinks maybe that’s what happened after he got hit by the car.

It would have been easy to die then. To just let his injuries swallow him up and put out his life like blowing out a candle.

He’s in a lot of pain right now, but he’s not dead. There must be a reason, right?

He thinks this is the reason.

Holding his youngest brother and realizing how broken his absence would leave his family, thinking about how broken it would be if anyof them were gone, how much they love each other…

… For once, he’s happy to be alive.

#Osomatsu san #whump #Ichimatsu #Allmatsu #Iromatsu #Nenchuumatsu #Suujimatsu #Parkamatsu #110matsu #car accident #broken bones #medication #caretaking #HEY LOOK AT THESE AWESOME BROTHERS BEING AWESOME #SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG BUT I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF.........#PLS ENJOY THE FOOD <3

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ajaxwrites · 3 years

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GENSHIN IMPACT FANFIC REC LIST II

(previous: part i)

Seaglass by Aevas

There was more to the contract than a gnosis and test of Liyue. It seemed like a simple deal five hundred years ago: so long as Morax never had a soulmate, the Tsaritsa would never harm Liyue and she would not get his gnosis. But the moment he gained a soulmate, all that belonged to him was forfeit. He thought the deal left Liyue safe—he'd lived thousands of years without a soulmate. The Tsaritsa would be dead and gone by the time she'd have a chance to collect.

Five hundred years later, Childe appears in Liyue, Zhongli gains a soulmate mark, and everything falls apart.

(The obligatory soulmate AU, featuring a Zhongli with PTSD, an oblivious Childe, and demon-worshipping cultists.)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: I CANNOT BELIEVE I SLEPT ON THIS FIC FOR SO LONG. Read it and I mean it! I admitted initially steered clear of this fic because I wasn’t comforted with a soulmate tartali fic pre-Osial but this fic is actually post-Ostial *facepalm* The writing is phenomenal and Aevas does some beautiful worldbuilding that you typically don’t see in Genshin Impact fics. I love the dynamic between Childe and Zhongli here and the angst is real. The author writes the two as very human characters who makes mistakes, etc. and notably Zhongli struggles with the concept of Childe as his soulmate (who understandably is upset by the rejection when he realizes). They get better though. Also very plotty. A+ writing.

it's a hard rock life for us by reptilianraven

“Ah, no need to worry about that,” Azhdaha waves a dismissive hand. “There is no real Kun Jun. He’s dead.”

A leaf blows past and plaps onto Aether’s face.

“You killed him???” Paimon screeches.

“No,” Azhdaha scrunches his eyebrows. “He was dead when I found him.”

“And you just decided to wear his corpse?” Aether says, leaf still on his face.

He shrugs. “It was free real estate.”

“Azhdaha...” Morax says, sounding vaguely pained.

Or the one where Historia Antiqua Chapter II: No Mere Stone goes a little bit different and Azhdaha gets more time.

He ultimately uses that time to bully Morax into confronting his immortal neuroses, to make Aether and Paimon suffer, and to figure out how to get that ginger boy Morax has his eye on to make a move already.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe, Past Azhdaha/Zhongli

Notes: Very lighthearted, humor-filled fic. Love how Azhdaha is so flippant. Interactions with Zhongli and Childe are pure gold.

if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes by moonlight_mist

Childe has a Weapon problem- specifically, that he can't keep one.

He's too reckless, too wild, and too keen on pushing his Weapon partners past their limits. He's just about ready to give up when he meets Zhongli, a Weapon who just might be the solution- so long as Childe can manage to keep his dick in his pants.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This is a Soul Eater AU with some college/university AU vibes (?) but you don’t really need to know much about the anime. It’s a cute AU and I love the premise. Light angst but otherwise, it’s a pretty semi-plotty fic. Easter egg Kaeya and Diluc though.

To Kill A God by IlluminanceinTales

In Snezhnaya, they call them sansis—lost souls that have no guidance but themselves. It’s an apt description, given that most of the time, wannabe-Archons have to go through dozens of tests with nothing as their reference, relying solely on their wit and strength and hoping it would be enough. At least, until they survive the end of the whole game—and they might not have to undergo a painful reincarnation which feels like a hundred bones being stitched together again.

On his seventh game, Childe Tartaglia reincarnates this time in the body of a young man.

Damn, he thinks, looking down at his thin body, his slightly calloused fingers. This won’t be good when facing the other Hydro Decisions.

In a world where an Archon's position is not chosen but fought for in games, Childe Tartaglia is a Hydro Decision who's poised to become the next Hydro Archon. Of course, that's only if he survives his seventh reincarnation. All would be so much easier if it weren't for a certain Geo Archon interfering with every possible chance he gets.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Think Hunger Games meet Political Intrigue meet Genshin Impact. Love the premise and world building that’s done. Features overprotective Zhongli and lots of Childe whump. Has one or two supplementary OCs that aren’t really important outside of plot device reasons. Warning for character death tho lmao.

Three's a Family by IlluminanceinTales

Childe finds a kid that looks just like him.

Of course Zhongli wants to keep him.

Or: How a harbinger and an archon accidentally become fathers. The kid is their wingman

Ships: Childe/Zhongli (?)

Notes: Your everyday cute AF kid fic. Fluffy as hell and super cute. Zhongli and Childe get domestic pretty quickly. Xiao gets dubbed a grandfather and begrudgingly plays along. Super wholesome.

in pitch dark i go walking in your landscape by snowbrigade

He glanced down at him, at the silvery scars peeking out from beneath his robe, and at his eyes, properly now. They were the bright blue of high quality noctilucous jade, but he could see it, an underlying darkness.

Zhongli wondered what his eyes betrayed about himself. --

Rex Lapis is dead. Zhongli, formerly known as triad leader Rex Lapis, is a detective investigating his own "death." Childe, also known as Tartaglia of the Fatui mafia, is undercover as an escort looking to kill Rex Lapis- until someone beats him to it, and he wants to know who. Goals intersecting, they form a partnership of ulterior motives.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: There’s like one scene that skews NSFW but otherwise surprisingly not explicit. Really fun AU. Like how the author addresses Childe’s reaction to being stuck with the undercover escort stuff and how the dynamic between the two develops. Pretty plotty so far.

Phantom Lines by iskendaris

“It’s a measure of one’s self, Mr Zhongli.” Childe says. “Maybe you don’t understand it since you work as a consultant, but as an ambassador from the Tsaritsa, as one who fights in her name— this is how I learn to know the measure of myself.” “I understand,” Zhongli says thoughtfully. “It is a warrior’s way, to test one’s strength against the incomparable. To find where one falls short. To find where one has risen to the challenge.”

In which Childe has insomnia, vandalizes public property and runs into a mysterious funeral consultant on his first night in Liyue.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: THE FEELS. I can only describe this as the fic where Zhongli pays Best Boyfriend Ever only to FUCK UP big time (via Gnosis deception). Poor, poor Childe. Look, he gave the boy feelings and then broke him. You can really feel Childe fall in love in this love. He also does mental swooning a lot lmao.

adventitious by Anonymous

It's said the Ley Lines remember all things that happen in this world, from the surface down to the deepest depths... But in the hidden corners where the Gods' gaze does not fall, there are those who dream of dreaming.

There's a dormant bud where Kaeya's eye once was. One day, it will bloom. (Never forget: memory is untrustworthy.)

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: I don’t even know where to start. This is very headcanony and lore-focused. Very much concentrated on Khaenri'ah. The implications of this story is grotesque to say the least (according to this fic, Visions are the literal eyes of the people of Khaenri'ah). Warnings for eye and body horror.

Without Those Dark Memories by StrangeDiamond

Diluc awakens in Stormterror’s Lair with no memories of the past five years. Kaeya is on the trail of a rogue alchemist, with a habit of testing his chemicals on unwilling human subjects. Now, in addition to capturing the criminal, Kaeya has to shake him down for an antidote . . . and deal with an amnesiac Diluc who acts exactly like he did before their brotherhood fell apart. (Standalone Fic.)

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: This is sort of a classic amnesia fic. I particularly really liked the way that Kaeya was written in this. I feel like the author did a really good job nailing his character and they have a way of capturing the subtle things.

Through the warmth, through the cold by strikedawn

“It’s you!” Paimon shouted with a twirl in mid-air.

“…Excuse me?"

They were drunk. Were they drunk? Was he drunk? Because Kaeya had the feeling his guests had been talking to him for a while now, but none of their words had made any sense whatsoever.

That was, until Venti stepped firmly in front of Kaeya’s desk and set his hands on the top, the better to lean over towards Kaeya and say: “For the end of the Windblume festival, Sir Kaeya Alberich, we’re going to auction a date with you.”

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: Shortword, Kaeya gets auctioned off. Diluc makes impulsive (but good) decisions and scores himself a Date but displays an inability to do Date Planning. Venti deserves a pat on the back. Very sweet.

Hide and Seek by Kiri_Kaitou_Clover

Childe did not expect regaining his memories would bring him such frustration.

He makes the best of the situation by messing with one amber eyed consultant in anyway he can.

A reincarnated storm god wades through life in Liyue, all while screaming about one dragon god's incompetency at being human.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Features Childe as Osial’s very exasperated reincarnation, who gets the joy of discovering that his rival/enemy Morax is not only an idiot but also broke AF. He still falls in love anyway. Contains this golden line:

"Did... did that complete blockhead really use my money in order to get me a gift that basically says that he is proposing to me?!"

(Osial was screaming. When had the other god become like this?! Had he always been like this?!)

Getting that Bread by tzitzimeme

Concubine AU where Zhongli is Emperor, Xiao is an assassin sent to kill him while disguised as a woman in his imperial harem, and the only reason he doesn't actually do it is because he pities Zhongli for being so catastrophically stupid (also Xiao falls in love).

Ships: Zhongli/Xiao

Notes: Like Xiao says, Zhongli is an idiot. Fluff and humor filled. Xiao spends a good 95% of this exasperated by Zhongli’s bullshit.

prayers for a boy by Recluse

The only way to reconciliation is fierce combat!

Hm... Come to think of it, there will be a lot of interesting news to be heard the next time we gather for drinks. Filling in the blanks.

Ships: N/A

Notes: I...don’t really know where to begin with this? It’s exactly what the summary implies...but more? I was tempted to describe this as the fic where Zhongli puts his foot in his mouth but...that’s not exactly write? I feel like this was more of a character study. It explores the aftermath of the Osial Incident and how Zhongli and Childe reconnect. Platonically...though I guess it can be read romantically.

one kind of longing, two places of sorrow by lady_peony

Zhongli's hands rest behind his back, both gloved hands clasping one another. His fingers tighten around one another for the merest moment, before he relaxes his grip.

"There is a tradition in Liyue," Zhongli says, his back still to Childe standing behind him, "of inviting out a companion to a last meal before a farewell."

A pause.

"A tradition?" Childe echoes.

"Yes."

"With a companion?"

"Yes."

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: The fic where neither of the two communicate about jackshit but go on a quiet, sad not-date before Childe leaves for Snezhnaya. Childe pulls (? on accident or on purpose, I can not tell) the equivalent of leaving the jacket in the car post-date to get date to call for the second date. Also, the author has a gift for like...writing angst...without writing angst? Like the whole fic is like brimming with everything that the characters aren’t saying but the thoughts aren’t necessarily written out BUT YOU KNOW THOSE DUMBFUCKS ARE JUST LIKE. BRIMMING WITH FEELS?

The People of Liyue by queer_occurrences

But Zhongli whispers, his low voice rooted in the back of Childe’s mind. “Changsun, the merchant, who is never too Mora-enthralled to turn away a needy child. There’s Tiantian—she will allow anyone to join the Adventurer’s Guild—she knows what it is to be desperate.”

Childe ducks away from them and hurries out over the bridge. It’s a warm, sunny day, the kind he would have complained about, whining about his delicate Snezhnayan skin. “It’ll burn, or worse, freckle. Would you still like me if I was freckled?”

Then Zhongli would say, “The people of Liyue will remember your sacrifice.” And he would wrinkle his nose.

Or: after it all goes down, Childe takes a walk.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: The author has a way with perfectly balancing angst with humor in a way that makes you cackle. There’s a lot of feels in this one. Zhongli tries communicating--Childe runs away a lot. There’s a lot of love for Liyue in this one.

cold blooded, warm blooded, hearts all the same by reptilianraven

Teyvat Petting Zoo @tyvtpettingzoo

Well would you look at that! Zhongli, our resident spinytail iguana, has gotten quite cozy with Childe, our new (and very feisty) ginger ferret! Aren’t they adorable all cuddled together like this? 😍😍😍

[Attached image shows a brown spinytail iguana curled up against a ginger ferret. The iguana’s head is nuzzled under the snout of the ferret.]

At the Teyvat Petting Zoo, Zhongli and Childe fall in love.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: ...I promise I’m not weird. This is just super cute. Cross-species love affair? Childe the ferret is very besotted. The internet is confused and the zoo keepers are just done.

a geo archon's guide to the modern era by Erina

“Morax,” Xiao says after Zhongli finishes his retelling of the incident. “He thinks you’re a weirdo.”

“No, don’t say that,” Barbatos snickers. “You’ll give him hope that this is salvageable.” He lowers his voice. “Morax, he thinks you’re a boomer.”

(In which Zhongli hibernates for centuries and wakes up in the modern world)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This took me, I shit you not, FIVE SEPARATE ATTEMPTS to read. Not because it was bad but BECAUSE THE SECOND HAND EMBARRASSMENT WAS REAL. Like, omg, just reading about Zhongli’s introduction to modernity made me want to dig a hole and die. Super funny though. Do not read in public or you will look like a lunatic. Has a...parallel (?) fic in the same series called buy two get one archon free where Zhongli gets reversed isekai’d into an anime convention.

time flies like an arrow by Erina

He’s tired, tired of the unbreakable loop of watching his loved ones pass on, tired of getting attached only for the connection to be violently ripped away from him. He wonders if the real victors during the Archon War were those who perished, who died long before their godhood turned into a curse that chained them to the land that they were fighting for.

But that is not a problem for Childe to worry about. That is Zhongli’s burden to bear, delivered to him in a pretty package years ago in the form of a gnosis.

His very first contract.

(Zhongli and Childe, across many lifetimes)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This is a quiet fic. It’s this kind of slice-of-life fic colored by this overpowering sense of love and loss as Zhongli remains immortal and Childe dies and lives and dies and lives for hundreds of lifetimes, but always finds his way back to his geo archon. It’s so lovely but also unbearably sad.

Tartaglia’s Favorite Professor by GreyLiliy

The famed hitman Tartaglia of the Fatui Syndicate spends his days as the charming college student Childe. The two lives remain as separate as possible in order to maintain a flawless cover to keep the authorities off his back and to better serve the Tsaritsa.

However, new intel about a rival syndicate intersects his two lives in a way he could never have predicted.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Mafia AU meet College AU. Childe is somehow both a horny AF college student and murderous hitman. Zhongli gives off major DILF vibes. GreyLily somehow makes this work while also avoiding cringe. Highly recommended!

like a handprint on my heart by fallingintodivinity

“Strictly off-the-record,” Jean says, with a small smile, “I’m really happy to see you and Captain Kaeya getting along again, Master Diluc.”

“We’re not – we’re not getting along,” Diluc tells her, indignant. “We’re working together. Unwillingly, I might add.”

“Yes – oh, yes, of course.”

Diluc stares at Jean suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”

Jean clears her throat primly. “I would never.”

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: Super, super cute! Sort of reads like a first date fic except genshin impact style? Writing style is very refreshing!

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #fanfic rec #rec list #zhongli/childe #childe/zhongli #tartali #chili #diluc./kaeya #luckae #fanfiction #took a while but i have been steadily reading my way through the fandom #still not all my recs #but you can check my ao3 for what i'm reading lmao

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giggles-and-freckles · 3 years

Text

my fic masterlist

decided to do this for my own sake more than anyone else’s because sometimes I have to make sure the idea I get at 3am isn’t one I’ve already written hehe. anyway, a lot of these are on my ao3, but I’m also going to try and track down some of my TuMbLr-eXcLuSiVe fics, too. I’ll update this as often as I remember (so, uhhh–)

In-Progress: Not On A Consistent Updating Schedule Bc Abi is a Mess ™

midst of the mind – Anakin has always had a pretty good understanding of his feelings, even if he's not particularly disciplined in acting on them. But things surrounding the Chancellor seem to be off and Anakin's determined to get to the bottom of it. With a little help from his friends.(or: fix-it ROTS fic where Ani, Obi, and Padmé take down the Chancellor one fake smile and late-night tea party at a time)

evermore – "dreamscapes and tragedies and epic tales of love lost and found" within the lives of our favourite space fam. (or: TAYLOR SWIFT LITERALLY OWNS MY SOUL, OKAY?) (unrelated one-shots based on taylor swift songs ha)

filling the gaps – after the horror of Naboo, Obi-Wan has flipped from Padawan to having a Padawan in a matter of hours and he's not sure how much longer he can pretend like he's okay. thankfully, this one spunky youngling who keeps popping up in the corners of his life seems to know what to do. (or: baby!Soka unknowingly helps new Knight!Kenobi figure things out and braids his hair along the way)

Obi-Wan & Ahsoka: Best Father-Daughter Duo In The Galaxy According To Me (because let’s be honest...that’s why I’m here) (tagged: #obi & soka)

filling the gaps – *in-progress multi-chapter* after the horror of Naboo, Obi-Wan has flipped from Padawan to having a Padawan in a matter of hours and he's not sure how much longer he can pretend like he's okay. thankfully, this one spunky youngling who keeps popping up in the corners of his life seems to know what to do. (or: baby!Soka unknowingly helps new Knight!Kenobi figure things out and braids his hair along the way)

playing catch – Ahsoka finds an old friend on Tatooine and has lots of questions. they cry a lot. obi-wan tells some white lies. they get the hugs they need. (Obi-Wan & Ahsoka reunite on Tatooine)

all too young – during a bout of insomnia while on Onderon, Ahsoka gets some advice and insight about her Master. (or Obi-Wan hears Ahsoka laugh for the first time and they get to have a snuggle and he absolutely spends the entire next day training the rebels trying not to cry thinking about it every dang time he sees her.)

hologram heart-to-hearts – we see Obi-Wan and Ahsoka have a conversation via hologram in the final season of tcw, but what if there had been...more?(three-parter) (basically Obi and Soka keep in touch after she leaves the Order and there’s...a lot of emotions involved)

little love – a sort of follow-up to hologram heart-to hearts; Ahsoka sticks her nose into the wrong Alliance meeting and discovers a certain Jedi is alive and on Tatooine of all places, so she places a long-distance call.

bad days – Ahsoka tries to squeeze out of her Grand Master exactly what happened on Mortis. and, as always, Obi-Wan is powerless to deny her anything, no matter how painful that truth may be.

sleeping with monsters – Ahsoka is having a hard time sleeping after her time on Felucia, so Obi-Wan offers a solution.

chance meeting – Obi-Wan is up late researching for his Master in the archives when a certain sneeze–and pair of big blue eyes–catch his attention.

‘drooping eyelids’ prompt fill – Ahsoka and Obi-Wan have a conversation about attachment while Anakin’s missing. they (plus Anakin) get some platonic cuddles.

‘dancing’ prompt fill – they attend a senatorial gala without Anakin because he’s feeling grumpy grump after deception arc fall-out. Obi realises that there are still things to be thankful for.

sorrow – Ahsoka feels the full weight of loss as she clutches her Grand Master’s dead body. (deception arc FEELS!!!!)

‘I do not pretend to set people right, but I do see they are often wrong’ prompt fill – *trigger warning: death of children; Obi comforts Ahsoka after they witness an atrocity of the highest order.

the silence between — Ahsoka gets assigned to the 212th as her Master recovers. Unwanted quality time with her Grand Master doesn’t go as planned.

untitled ‘Obi & Ani role reversal au’ ficlet — Padawan Obi-Wan pays a visit to his best pal Ahsoka in the crèche.

‘falling asleep on each other’s shoulder’ prompt fill – the summary says it all. fluff!

'I don’t wanna die’ – Obi-Wan comforts Ahsoka in her pain. *tw: implied major character death

‘I made tea’ – Anakin is off-world so it’s up to Obi-Wan to take care of his sick grand-padawan.

sorry for the soup – post-deception arc. Ahsoka stops by Obi-Wan’s quarters to check-in.

Obi-Wan & Anakin: The Early Years (tagged: #obi & ani)

figuring it out – Anakin learns waking Obi-Wan up can sometimes be a good thing and Obi-Wan learns that maybe everything's going to be okay. (padawan!ani & new dad knight!kenobi)

if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more – Anakin overhears a conversation he wasn’t meant to hear and lashes out in response. lots of hurt is uncovered and Obi-Wan hears some hard truths from his Padawan. angst, angst, angst...but with a hug.

reading lessons – the team takes a trip to the archives to find some reading material. Anakin is adorably insecure.

cold – Obi-Wan and Anakin have their first solo mission, but in typical Kenobi & Skywalker fashion, it does not go as planned. Exasperated Obi-Wan and Won't-Shut-Up Anakin are put to the test by deep space and a completely out-of-fuel ship. (or some more fluff where padawan!ani and new knight!kenobi get to try and figure out how the heck this master-padawan thing WORKS. hint: it's not easy!)

playing hooky – angel baby Anakin breaks Obi-Wan's heart and it's not for the last time...womp wooooomp.

like you – sweet, angel baby Ani gives himself a haircut and Obi-Wan deals with the aftermath. (I’m copying and pasting most of these summaries directly from ao3 and cracking up because I called Anakin a sweet angel baby in two in a ROW hahah)

fun? – the Jedi Council gives Obi-Wan his newest orders as a young Jedi Knight and he struggles to understand them. he was instructed to take his new Padawan and...have...fun?

go away/please stay – Obi-Wan has been disappearing for solo missions more and more often and Anakin's starting to wonder if it's more than just on request of the Council. (or: can you say TEEN ANGST!)

‘forehead kisses’ prompt fill – Anakin stumbles upon his Master having quite the nightmare, so he handles it the way his mom always handled his own nightmares. with patience and affection.

unnamed NAP TIME fic – Obi-Wan gets home from a solo mission early to find his bed occupied.

‘sweets’ prompt fill – Anakin gets a little ambitious with his choco-ball indulgence.

‘fuzzy socks’ prompt fill – years after arriving at the Temple, Anakin still hasn’t quite adjusted to the cold. Obi-Wan gets him a gift to help. (really just an excuse for some obi ani banter)

‘snowball fight’ prompt fill – Anakin takes his boredom to the next level, much to his Master’s chagrin.

untitled Anakin sickfic bc I’m not feeling very creative right now – the team goes on a mission but Anakin gets sick. Obi-Wan is ultimate mother hen and Anakin makes an observation.

got germs – sickficlet where both of our best boys are sick.

you’re okay – just some classic protective parent!Obi-Wan and teenaged son!Anakin post disaster.

‘you lied to me’ – angstpril day 13. Anakin really wants to go to Ilum and make his lightsaber...but is met with disappointment.

random sickfic – because we all know Anakin is the most annoying sick person in the world.

don’t struggle – the ship is crashing, as usual. but this time, Anakin’s seatbelt is stuck. *tw: implied major character deaths

relic – sith!Obi au. *tw: major character death

aspectabund – Anakin’s eyes betray him and his Master.

Obi-Wan & Anakin: Brotp But Also Idiots Who Don’t Know How To Communicate (still tagged #obi & ani)

define ‘attachment’ – while the dads esteemed Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker wait for Ahsoka to wake up, they talk about attachment, worry, and that time Ani caused an accidental security breech at the Temple.

favourites – Obi-Wan has been tasked with telling Anakin of his special assignment to keep an eye on the Chancellor, but he gets sappy and sentimental in the process because these conversations are hard.

after all these years – Obi-Wan tries to talk to Anakin, but it doesn't go well. does this sound familiar OR WHAT? (post-decpetion arc angst)

brilliant – Anakin is having a difficult time adjusting to his new mechno-arm for one very specific reason. (the boys communicate properly in this one and even get a hug as a treat!)

sober words said aloud – Anakin's meeting with the Council is interrupted by his highly intoxicated–and wildly affectionate–Master. (crack fic turned fluff)

‘you’ve been crying, I can tell’ prompt fill – Anakin makes the mistake of checking in on his Master after a particularly grueling mission. it doesn’t go well. (or: Obi-Wan loses his sh!t)

going somewhere? – Obi-Wan catches Anakin on his way out for a midnight rendezvous with a certain Senator. Anakin makes a quick decision and chooses Obi-Wan. sweet words are exchanged on a sentimental walk.

shaking hands – in the immediate wake of Ahsoka’s departure form the order, Anakin...isn’t okay. Obi-Wan tries to do something about it. (post S5 angst)

untitled platonic tired cuddles/back scratching fic – Anakin resorts to an old tactic to make his Master rest.

sun shine on – Obi-Wan and Anakin take a little trip to Tatooine to visit Shmi’s grave. (post-ROTS fix-it au of sorts)

pushing it too far — Obi-Wan calls Anakin for some help when he takes ‘intel’ too seriously and ends up drunk on a street in lower-level Coruscant.

whump prompt fill – Obi-Wan looks after Anakin after a near-miss. They talk.

‘was it another premonition?’ – Obi-Wan dreams of Luke. He wakes up to Anakin.

post-mortis angst – Anakin remembers. *tw: implied suicidal thoughts

angstpril: ‘you have to let me go’ – Anakin and Obi-Wan are stuck in a pit. only one of them can make it out alive. *tw: implied major character death

role model – post-deception angst. Obi and Ani talk. it doesn’t go well.

here either way – conversations about mental health. *tw: panic attack

hiraeth – Obi-Wan walks alone. *post ROTS

Anakin & Ahsoka: Dream Team Sharing One Single Brain Cell (tagged: #snips & skyguy or (for the really angsty) #its crying about snips & skyguy hours)

that one person – (my first fic!) Anakin gets assigned to lecture a class of younglings, but he's not the only one who doesn't want to be there.or Ahsoka Tano is done with Jedi sh!t and tries to leave, but this time it's just a classroom and not the entire Order and there's a lot less tears and pain.

here and now – the Force has tried to swallow Ahsoka Tano three times. it's hard to be the last one standing. (or Ahsoka feels the death of three important men in her life and is tired of being left behind) *tw: major character deaths (canon compliant and not depicted, only mentioned)

whumptober: crying – Anakin comforts a distraught Ahsoka after her disaster mission over Ryloth.

reaching out – Anakin is always there...until he’s not. Ahsoka reflects on how different it is fighting and living without Anakin at her side. (angst)

help would come – Anakin and Ahsoka get stuck on an ice planet and things get dire. I chalked this full of parallels to the final conversation between Ani and Luke bc I love pain, I guess?

whump: ‘i’ve got you’ – Anakin pulls Ahsoka from a nightmare.

zen!Anakin ficlet — Ahsoka visits Anakin in his new job as Galaxy’s #1 Dad (well Plo Koon still exists so maybe #1.5?).

right as rain – Ahsoka insists she is fine when she is distinctly not.

snoozeville – Anakin and a few boys of the 501st find their Commander catching some extra z’s.

stitching up – Ahsoka performs some in-the-moment surgery for Anakin and he tries not to scream. *tw: field surgery

‘platonic spooning’ prompt fill – do I need a summary after that?

sad hours: dancing – Anakin and Ahsoka dance in the aftermath of tragedy.

rainy ending given to a perfect day – Anakin and Ahsoka take a trip into downtown Coruscant.

Anakin and Padmé: Abi Tries and fails To Write Romance (tagged: #anidala)

not enough – Anakin has a hard time with the Mortis fall-out. Padmé doesn’t know how to help someone who doesn’t want it. some painful connections between Ahsoka and Shmi are made. (angst, no happy ending, trouble in paradise)

I will not have this baby in a jail cell – some fluff, some crack, some Anakin-being-so-proud-of-his-badass-wife.

marcid – domestic fluff in which Padmé almost shoots him. ha. oops!

rubatosis – angsty anidala hours. Anakin can’t go to sleep.

Obi-Wan and Satine: Abi Tries and fails some more To Write Romance (tagged #obitine)

don’t go – Obi-Wan makes a choice. *year on the run timeline

that’s mine – some happiness AU obitine. waking up next to each other. laughing. all the sappy stuff.

accidental keldabe kiss – all the ridiculous tropes I love with our favourite pining idiots. it’s the ‘kiss me so they don’t see us!’ trope!!!! *year on the run timeline

you’re shaking – Satine knows Obi-Wan more than he’d like. *year on the run

Anakin, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Rex, Padmé: Space Found Family In Whatever Form It Comes

i want your midnights – the gang attends a New Year's banquet (read: party) and Padmé surprises them all with her midnight kiss.

flair for dramatics – when the gang gets their ship stranded on a desert planet, Anakin and Ahsoka get creative as they try to keep spirits up and minds off the sweltering heat. Obi-Wan questions his sanity. (crack fic turned fluff)

nothing a cup of tea can’t fix – when Anakin shows up to Obi-Wan's quarters in the middle of the night, the Jedi Master knows something has gone awry. answering Anakin's desperate cry for help, Obi-Wan is reminded of how very, very prone to dramatics his former Padawan and Grand Padawan are. (or: Ahsoka gets sick and Anakin flips his shit.) (sickfic)

in the sandstorm – when Tatooine's weather takes a turn for the worst, Ben Kenobi finds a young boy in need of shelter and some lessons on how wonderful his dad had been. (luke and obi-wan hurt/comfort)

remembering hurts – Rex and Ahsoka strive to survive on the snowy moon in the days after Order 66. tensions are high and emotions are volatile.

balter – disaster trio dances at a senatorial ball.

reunion – au where Anakin doesn’t completely turn to the dark side but everything up to and including Mustafar (except for the last like...five minutes) happens. Padmé has the twins, Obi-Wan is overwhelmed, Anakin is a mess. they’re happy...or at least, they will be soon.

‘cookies’ prompt fill – disaster trio makes cookies for the crechelings for Life Day. (just fluff and banter)

first ever codywan! – Cody does some bedside vigil for a hurt Obi-Wan. :’)

transponster – disaster trio is tired and delusional. Rex and Cody want Jedi to have some kriffing self-preservation.

one final salute — Obi-Wan and Cody get trapped. Obi-Wan’s luck is running out. (angst? angst.)

codywan whump – Cody saves Obi-Wan’s life. again. (more fluff than whump)

girls’ night – Ahsoka hangs out with her mom pal Padmé.

driving lessons – Obi-Wan and Anakin teach Ahsoka to drive. ha.

affectionate obi – the kids get Obi-Wan a puppy. fluff!

sorry I don’t speak idiot – Rex and Fives deal with a drunk Echo :’)

post deception disaster trio sadness – Ahsoka tries to keep Obi-Wan company in the aftermath of Rako Hardeen...but Anakin isn’t playing nice.

verklempt – Ahsoka and Yoda talk about being chosen. and Ahsoka finds out maybe she hasn’t been left behind afterall. *pre-TCW

apricity – disaster trio have a picnic at the temple! just pure fluff.

pyrrhic – codywan but make it angsty. some battles are won at too great a cost.

disaster trio sickfic – two Jedi dads and their (sick) daughter :’)

‘you’ve been here this whole time?’ – newlyweds anidala (but shh, Obi-Wan doesn’t know that! yes he does, everyone does.) are there when Obi-Wan wakes up and he ownders just what he did to get so lucky.

Febuwhump 2021: A Foray into Hurting the Characters I Love the Most

mind control – Anakin’s narrative as he fights Ahsoka on Mortis. sad boy hours. a lot of insecurity happening here.

‘I can’t take this anymore’ – during the Obitine (plus third-wheel Qui-Gon) year on the run, Satine gets tired of Obi-Wan trying to die for her. a bit hurt/comfort, a lot sappy.

imprisonment – on their first mission together, Obi & Ani get captured. Anakin learns how Obi-Wan feels about tight spaces.

coma – post deception arc. Obi-Wan goes into a coma after a particularly intense conversation with Anakin. Anakin tells Obi’s unconscious body how he’s feeling. angst, angst, angst. there’s your warning.

‘take me instead’ – Anakin escorts Padmé on a diplomatic mission but things get dicey and quick decisions must be made. Anakin isn’t the only one in this relationship willing to be an idiot for the sake of *love.* (or: another attempt to write Anidala in a convincing way because they give me a tough! time! so this time make it...dangerous)

insomnia – Anakin overhears a late night holo-call and learns that his Master has a...friend that is a girl???? and is pretty???? but also that his Master may need some fixing and he thinks he may just be the nine-year-old for the job.

poisoning – Ahsoka gets drugged and Anakin gets...er...angry. (read: dark)

‘hey, hey, this is no time to sleep’ – as Ahsoka and Anakin wait for help, Anakin tells a story. an ancient monster in the heart of Tatooine...waiting for it's day of reckoning. (or: Ahsoka gets dehydrated and Anakin can't deny his hurting sister/padawan anything so he talks a little bit about home.)

buried alive – Anakin reflects on some things as his Padawan tries to rescue him from the rubble. angst!!!!!!!!!

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know’ – the Council loses a planet and Obi & Ani get tasked with finding it, but after nine hyperspace jumps and a painful discovery, Obi-Wan teaches his former Padawan one more lesson. (or: the boys talk about failure and feelings when Obi-Wan finds out Anakin's mechno-arm has been causing pain for a couple years)

hallucinations – Ahsoka tries to fix things. it doesn’t work. (post-order 66) angst

‘who are you?’ – Anakin and Ahsoka rescue Obi-Wan, but things aren’t okay and Obi-Wan doesn’t recognise Anakin. (or: Obi is tortured for information about the fall of the Republic before it happens and goes a bit mad bc of it)

‘I didn’t mean it’ – Obi-Wan learns how cold and unfeeling his young Padawan thinks he is and has a rough day. angst

burned – Anakin mourns the loss of his Padawan in a tactile way. Obi-Wan watches. (or: Anakin throws Ahsoka’s Padawan beads into a fire)

‘I wish I have never given you a chance’ – Obi-Wan is reminded of his own incompetence through a vision form his old master.

you have to let me go – Ahsoka has one heirloom: a hologram of her old master as a padawan. but it’s time to let the past go and step into the future, with help from an old friend.

#my fic #maybe I'll go give creative names to some of these prompt request fills someday but #probably not #anyway I definitely should have been doing things other than making this tonight but HERE WE ARE #:)#also at the time of me typing this I have 49 fics listed on here #which is so crazy to me #bc I just started writing in september and if you had told me I would have 50 fics in five months I would have laughed at you #and its so fun and cringey to look back at some of these #its only been a few months but my writing has CHANGED #(hopefully for the better?)#anyway yay! an organised archive!#sw fanfiction

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