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whumpy-wyrms · 2 months

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The Last Lab Rat #17: Close Your Eyes

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content: lab whump, captivity, clones, drugging, dehumanization, nonsexual nudity, murder mention, restraints, experimentation, mind control, noncon body modification, eye whump, medical whump, winged test subject whumpee, creepy scientist carewhumper

teehee Dew finally gets ice cream in this one yay

(if you can’t read this because of the eye whump, here’s an eye whumpless summary!)

—

Anton was up late into the night, getting his test subject’s new clone ready. As Dew slept, Anton had injected him with something that’d make sure he wouldn’t wake up in the night during this ordeal. He didn’t want Dew awake and watch another clone come to life. He didn’t want Dew to watch Anton set another version of him free.

The cloning machine was on the other side of the lab anyway, so Dew would hardly be able to see it from his room. Still, it was a necessary precaution. Dew was already going through so much pain; he didn’t need more stuff to worry about.

Anton was far too familiar with making clones. He’d spent five years of his life alone in his lab with nobody to experiment on besides himself and his clones; he’d grown familiar with the process of making and breaking multiple versions of himself. He’d grown used to not viewing these things as real people, because they weren’t.

The process was always the same. Inject a DNA sample into the machine, and wait a couple of days. The clone would come out with all of the memories of its original, it would… most of the time be an exact copy. Of course, Dew’s clone couldn’t be an exact copy of him now, not with his wings, so Anton had to do some tweaking. Make a clone of the old clone; a copy of a copy. Easy enough. No harm, no foul.

In the early days of making clones of himself, there was a recurring problem Anton had noticed. There were too many times where a new Anton would see himself standing before him, lab coat bloodied and hair disheveled, and know right away what its pathetic life would be used for. There were too many times where the clone would fight back, try to outsmart him and escape.

He needed a way to keep himself safe— from himself— so he implemented something into the machine that sedated when they first came out. It kept them weak and docile, lessened the shock of being a test subject, and kept them unable to fight back. It’d come in handy now, as well.

The machine whirred to life, lights lighting up and beeping. Anton didn’t miss that sound in the slightest. It brought him back to his darkest times, times he honestly wouldn't mind to forget completely, if he hadn’t already.

After a few moments, the clone was ready. Anton swallowed his nerves and walked up to the machine.

“Hello,” Anton said, helping the new Dew step out of the machine.

“Hi,” the clone said, looking up at Anton with wide, curious eyes. It stood in front of him, calm and relaxed. It wasn’t wearing any clothes, but it didn’t care. It just stared ahead. So innocent. So blissfully oblivious to the horrors just under its nose.

“Do you know your name?”

“It’s Dew…” The clone looked around, curious eyes dancing across the strange and unfamiliar laboratory. Though, it didn’t look scared. It turned its gaze back to Anton. “Where am I?”

“Don’t worry your silly little head about that,” Anton said, patting the clone on the head. “Put these on.” The scientist handed the clone some folded up clothes, and stepped away.

It felt wrong, to Anton. This wasn’t the Dew he had grown familiar with the past couple months. It didn’t have top surgery. It didn’t have wings. It was just a lie made to keep his friends at bay. All Anton saw when he looked at this thing was all his hard work gone. This clone wasn’t the real Dew, and for that, he despised it.

Anton shook those thoughts away. Of course this wasn’t the real Dew, that was the point. The real Dew would be safe with him, here. He never needed to think about clones again after this.

After the clone was dressed, it started looking around again, expression noticeably more dazed than before.

“Woah, what’s that thing?” It said, looking closely at a giant cylindrical tube-like vat of green fluid. It was tall, going up all the way to the ceiling, and the glass looked very thick. There was nothing inside of it besides a bright green and glowing fluid that was mesmerizing to look at. And even though the rest of the lab was dark, this lit up the area around them well enough.

“Nothing. Follow me.” Anton grabbed its arm and swiftly led it out of the lab before it could ask any more questions.

“What’s going on?” It asked, catching up to Anton’s pace.

“I’m taking you home.”

“Oh. Who are you?”

“…It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh.” Besides the pair of footsteps, there was a long silence as they walked up the stairs. “This place kinda reminds me of the strongholds in Minecraft… Hey, I’m kinda cold.”

“We’re almost there.”

Anton led Dew’s clone to his car and sat it in the passenger seat, put its seatbelt on, and shut the door. It had stopped talking now, seemingly too tired to ask anymore questions. As Anton drove, he couldn’t help but periodically glance at the dozy, docile thing sitting next to him, looking out the window at the dark forest. It had no idea what was happening. It was almost cute.

“I’m sleepy.” The clone yawned. The repetition of the trees going past the car was almost hypnotic.

“I know. Just relax. It’ll be a long drive.”

“Okay,” It said softly, resting its head against the cold window. “G’night…”

Anton gave a bittersweet smile, and watched its eyes flutter shut as it drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

In around four hours, Anton would be dropping this clone off at its house. He would wipe its memories of the night, and it’d live its life as Dew, its friends none the wiser.

He just had to drive back to Dew’s old house. It was easy.

Anton had tried to ignore the horrible feeling in his gut, his memories of the gory and grotesque scene his lab rat had caused in that room, only a few days ago. He had tried to forget it, tried to focus on the fact that his test subject had escaped, and what had to be done about it. The murder could be easily taken care of; disposed of, cleaned up, and forgotten about. It was in the past. It didn’t matter anymore.

And yet…

Visions of Dew’s bloody and broken corpse flashed through Anton’s mind. The way his favorite little lab rat was lying lifeless on the carpet, blood pooling under the limp and stiff body that was littered with stab wounds, knife only inches away from the scene. The way the light in the poor guy’s eyes was gone. Just like that.

The way Dew was dead.

Dew was dead. Not the real Dew, of course, but that didn’t matter. Anton had seen a Dew’s bloodied corpse laying in front of him, and it sickened him.

He had tried to ignore it. There were more important things to worry about than his feelings— than those horrible feelings of sadness and grief flooding through him at the sight of his test subject, dead on the ground. More important things like the fact Dew had escaped, and needed to be brought back home. The fact he had to punish Dew for disobeying.

But how could he possibly punish someone who was hurting so bad to the point he drank one of Anton’s vials, or shot himself with one of Anton’s inventions? How could he possibly hurt someone worse than they were already hurting? He couldn’t.

Of course, Dew knowing he had been cloned and that there was nothing to do to escape his life as Anton’s test subject was probably punishment enough. It was obvious now he felt completely hopeless; Anton had stolen each and every ounce of hope the man had left by replacing him with a clone and threatening his friends.

So Anton didn’t punish him for escaping. He didn’t punish him for his obvious disobedience and attempts to get out of experiments— too caught up thinking about if Dew had grabbed any other vial, any other invention, it could’ve been so much worse. He didn’t want anything bad to ever happen to him. So he’d been kind, comforting. And it seemed to have worked. Dew was content here, he seemed to finally accept things, which was all he really wanted.

Anton arrived at his test subject’s old address. The clone was still fast asleep, and it took a few light nudges of its shoulders to wake it up. It was alert now, as normal as it could be, acting like the spitting image of Dew. The two of them got out of the car and it questioned him, but Anton was quick to hit it with a quick blast of his memory eraser. He left it by the curb of its house, and drove around the corner out of sight. Memories of that night left its mind, and it stood alone in front of its house. Shrugging its shoulders, it walked inside, out of sight, and Anton began his ride home.

. . .

The scientist had been preparing for an experiment all morning, and Dew had no idea what it was.

Anton had agreed to take a few days off and let Dew rest, giving them both a much needed break and start experiments again once he was ready. Of course, he’d never be ready, but if it was going to happen anyway, it was best to get it over with, and Anton seemed to be itching to start again.

It had to have been almost lunch time by now, and without Sasha to keep him company, Dew spent the morning curled up in his room, drawing and listening to music, blocking out the rest of the world and hoping whatever Anton had planned for him wouldn’t be too agonizing.

Without anything to be hopeful about, that was all he’d been doing lately. That was all he could do, now. Anton didn’t seem keen on letting him outside anymore, and Dew was too petrified to ask.

Dew could’ve spent more time with Anton the past few days. He’d thought about the birthday party he threw him, and their time spent outside together, playing with animals and flying, and when they had watched Dew’s favorite show together upstairs— the last time he had interacted with Anton before he’d ruined everything with his stupid escape.

The truth was, Anton had been fun to be around sometimes, and at this point, Dew wasn’t afraid to admit it. He’d been scared before, when he still held on to the possibility of being free, but now? If he really was stuck here forever, maybe it was in his best interest to use Anton’s friendliness to his advantage. Dew hated the man, but at least he wasn’t cruel. At least he was trying to keep him happy.

If Dew was really going to be a test subject forever, as depressing as that sounded, he should make the most of the rest of his life.

So he sat on his bed, waiting apprehensively for Anton to finish preparing his torment and bring him into the lab. As he doodled in his sketchbook, he heard the scientist’s footsteps coming towards his room. He put his sketchbook down, brought his knees to his chest, and stared at the door.

“Okay Dewey,” Anton walked in, smiling menacingly, yet giddy with excitement. “It’s all prepared. Let’s go.”

Dew slowly stood up, hospital gown already on, and stared incredulously at the scientist as he pulled out a long chain.

“W-what is that?” Dew asked, taking a nervous step back.

Anton sighed. “The past two days you have hurt yourself using the things in my lab. I don’t know if I can fully trust you in there unrestrained anymore. And this experiment has to go perfectly, I don’t want any more delays, okay?”

Of course. Dew had lost all of Anton’s trust, it only made sense for him to be extra restrained in the lab. That didn’t stop his heart from racing, though. “O-okay.”

Anton smiled and clicked the chain around both of Dew’s wrists in front of him, then the two of them headed into the lab. Dew ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach. This was his life now, and he had to be the best test subject he could be so that Anton would be nice to him. He had to be good. He had to.

He hopped up on the operating table, and was told to lay down. Anton placed a pillow behind his back so his wings would be cushioned semi-comfortably. Dew was thankful for that, at least.

As Anton started messing with the restraints on the side of the table, Dew looked up at him with teary eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked meekly.

“You’ll have to be restrained for this one,” Anton explained, tightening the straps around Dew’s legs. “Can’t have you moving around too much. This too tight?”

“N-no.”

Dew weakly protested as Anton tried grabbing his arms. The scientist shot him a look, and he meekly complied, allowing the scientist to spread his arms flat against the table and strap them tightly in the restraints. Dew shuddered as Anton gave the straps an extra tug just to make sure they were secure.

Anton took out his tape recorder and pressed record. “How are you feeling?”

“It’s cold,” Dew whimpered, goosebumps running across his skin.

“Don’t worry.” Anton ruffled his hair. “I’m sure you’ll forget all about the cold after we begin.”

The scientist began rummaging around the tray of tools, and Dew’s nervousness got the better of him. “W-what are you gonna do to me?” he asked.

Anton looked up, a giddy smile creeping across his face. It made Dew’s stomach drop. “Eyes are fascinating, aren’t they?”

“Um, what do you mean?” Dew mumbled.

“Eyes. They’re so fascinating, so complicated and intricate. We rely on our eyes to see the world around us, but… what if there was more? What if there was a way to see beyond the threshold of reality? I want to test something I’ve been working on for a while now, and I think I’ve finally figured out how to do it.”

“You mean— test on my eyes? You’re going to experiment on my eyes?”

“Yes! I won’t tell you the exact details though, I want it to be a surprise.”

As much as Dew wanted to behave as well as possible, he was beginning to panic. “N-no! No, Anton, y-you can’t! They’re my eyes! Please—”

“Remember that one time you asked me to give you night vision?” Anton joked, nonchalantly waving around a long syringe. “Don’t you want this?”

“No!” Dew screamed, but quickly realized that resisting would only make things worse. That’s right, he had to behave. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down, and looked back up at Anton. Maybe they could talk this through? “Wait— wait. Can’t you j-just test this out on a clone instead? What if something goes wrong?”

“I would, but that’s why you’re here, silly.” Anton booped his nose. “And nothing will go wrong. I’ll make sure of it.”

“No— c’mon, Anton! I th— I thought we were friends!”

Anton furrowed his brows, looking at Dew with a sad expression. “I need to do this, Dew. You’re my test subject. This is what you’re here for. …How about, after this, I’ll get you some ice cream? How does that sound?”

“B-but— Ah!” Dew yelped and squeezed his eyes shut when he saw Anton’s hand come towards him, only for him gently taking his glasses off. Still, that was not a good sign.

Dew peaked an eye open to see Anton picking up a giant, blurry needle.

“Wait— wait wait wait wait WAIT!” Dew cried, imagining all sorts of horrible things Anton could do to his eyes, and knowing this would probably be the worst thing he’d have to endure so far. He struggled against the restraints fruitlessly, only tiring himself out. “I— I’ll do anything, anything but this! Please!”

Anton sighed. “C’mon Dewey, be a good test subject.” As Dew continued pleading and blabbering as if his life depended on it, the scientist took out a roll of duct tape.

Dew’s eyes went wide. “Wait! Wait wait wait, please! Please n—”

“Stay still.” Dew’s breath hitched as he was rendered completely motionless. A chill ran down his spine as the scientist put a strip of duct tape over his mouth, smoothing it out with his hand. Dew glared at him, and Anton ruffled his hair, smiling. “There you go.”

He was eerily still as Anton prepped the syringe. Dew whimpered into the gag as Anton brought the needle closer, grabbed his arm, and injected a strange fluid into his veins. Dew only hoped it would ease the horrible pain that was sure to come.

“This’ll just make you feel a little groggy. A small sedative, that’s all it is. But I need you awake for this, can you stay awake for me?”

Dew nodded, already feeling drowsy, as tears fell down his cheeks.

“Good. Let’s get started, then.” Anton said, snapping on black rubber gloves.

The scientist picked up a small glass bottle that was filled with a very bright blue liquid. It was neon teal and glowing bright, with small bubbles swirling around inside it. Anton took an eye dropper and filled it with the substance. Then, Dew hazily heard a command to keep his eyes open, and he realized he was unable to close them no matter how much he wanted to.

The scientist was smiling to himself and saying something into the tape recorder, something Dew was too dazed and terrified to make out.

His chest heaved as he watched Anton’s hand slowly approach his eyes. He quickly turned his head away, only causing the scientist to wrench his head back with a rough hand entangled in his hair. Dew wanted nothing but to squeeze his eyes shut, but he couldn’t.

His eyes burned with tears. Everything felt like a hazy dream, far far away and yet so real. A wave of terror flowed through him. Anton held the eyedropper above one of Dew’s eyes and squeezed it, causing a couple of drops of that glowing blue liquid to fall into his eye.

No no no NO NO NO! Dew couldn’t move. It felt like his eye was on fire. Something was coating his entire eyeball inside and out and he couldn’t get it off of him.

Anton repeated the process with Dew’s other eye.

Anton looked down at his test subject. “Hey, hey, don’t cry, Dew. Stop crying.” His tears dried up immediately after.

Dew could only watch in horror, his vision blurry and pained, as the scientist picked up another object and brought it towards him.

Dew’s vision was fading, and so was his consciousness. He hoped that only implied he would fall asleep soon. Yes, sleep, that sounded nice. Dew tried to relax as the room went dark, as he let Anton do whatever he wanted to do to him. He felt himself drift off, succumbing to the drugs. He barely heard the scientist’s voice anymore. He was so, so tired.

Right as Dew was about to close his eyes, he felt a sudden sharp sting on the bottom of his face. Anton had ripped the duct tape off.

“Wake up, Dewey.” It was the scientist’s voice, shaking him and his mind awake. That’s right. Dew was supposed to stay awake.

Anton loosened the straps enough for Dew to partially sit up, and held a cold flask of liquid to his lips. “Drink this.”

Dew moved his head away groggily. “W-w-why are you doing this?” Dew sobbed. “M-my eyes! What did you do to—”

“Shhh,” Anton said. “You’ll find out soon. Now drink.”

Dew didn’t have a choice but to gulp down whatever strange substance Anton had just given him. It tasted juicy, a strong sour, yet empty and cloudy at the same time. He all so suddenly felt lightheaded and dull, thoughts sizzling out into nothing. His head felt foggy, and he felt far, far away.

Dew didn’t know what happened after that.

. . .

In situations like this, during experiments like these, it was easy for Anton to get carried away, fueled with the excitement of creating something new. It was easy to be blinded by the power he held, and forget all about how his poor test subject felt. Experiments like these were what fueled him, what reminded him of why he still did this in the first place. Testing the limits of the human body, creating things nobody ever thought possible. This was why he loved science.

Not a single ounce of hesitation went through Anton’s mind when he took out a spoon and brought it to his test subject’s face. Right now, Dew was completely out of it. He wouldn’t remember any of this, which was a huge relief. At least he wouldn’t feel what was about to happen.

Anton brought the spoon closer to Dew’s glossy eyes. And…

Whatever was in that glowing blue liquid seemed to have worked, creating a link between the eye and the brain, no optic nerve needed. He was holding his test subject’s left eye in his hands. His eye.

It was easy to assume there was no coming back from this. Dew may as well have just lost an eye. But Anton was sure he’d be able to pop it back in place eventually, that was part of the experiment, after all.

He held the slimey, squishy, disgusting thing in his hands. It stared back at him, brown eye wide and still and petrified. It disgusted him. It made him feel sick to his stomach at the thought of permanently making Dew lose an eye. But the thought of this experiment being a success outweighed any guilt or remorse he felt, replacing it with the exhilarating thrill he’d been searching for. He held the eye between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a slight squeeze, just to see how it felt. If this experiment went right, everything would change.

He talked into the tape recorder as he prepared for the next step. An injection here, a bit of lasering there, he worked quickly and meticulously, lost in his own world. Once he was ready, he popped Dew’s eye back into place, and repeated the steps with the other one. One last injection with another strange substance, and Anton stepped back to take a look at his handy work. If all went well, things would start happening any minute now.

And he was right.

All of a sudden, Dew started writhing against the restraints, screaming at the top of his lungs. The straps keeping him restrained to the table pulled taut, and Anton was glad he decided to make them extra tight this time. Feathers flew everywhere as he flapped his wings in the midst of the struggle. The sound of nails scraping against metal filled Anton’s ears, but that was nothing compared to the screams. Anton hadn’t hurt such visceral, gut-wrenching screams in a long time. It made him feel sick, but he couldn’t stop watching.

All too quickly, something bubbled its way to the surface of Dew’s skin, bursting out of his forehead with a pop. There was minimal blood, to Anton’s surprise and relief, and he was almost sad that it had happened so quickly.

And then, eerie silence. Dew collapsed down against the table, limp and heavy, erratic breathing turning deep and calm.

Anton approached him slowly, heart pounding through his chest. On the center of Dew’s forehead was an eye. Wide and bloodshot, staring directly at him.

. . .

A few hours later, Anton watched his test subject stir awake, unrestrained and laying flat on the table. He was at his side in an instant, ready to provide painkillers or sedatives or even comfort if needed.

“Dew? Are you awake?”

“Y-Yeah,” Dew said, still feeling groggy. He looked around and started to panic. “I… I can’t see anything—”

“There are bandages covering your eyes, it’s okay. You’re okay. Just calm down.’’

“W-what did you do to me?”

“We’ll talk about that later. First, tell me how you feel.”

“I…” The lack of sight caused Dew to panic as he remembered what was happening before he blacked out.

“Dew,” Anton said, putting his hands on Dew’s shoulders. “Calm down. I’m here. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Y-you— my eyes!” Dew cried, twisting out of Anton’s grip. “What did you do to my eyes?!”

Anton swallowed thickly. This was not going well. “I’ll tell you later. Are you in any pain?”

“I-I… kinda? Everything’s still- still weird. Like, numb, almost. What did y-you do to me?”

“Hm, okay. That’s to be expected.”

Dew flinched in surprise as he felt the scientist grab his arm. “H-hey, what—”

“I’m just giving you something to help you relax. Stay still.”

Not being able to see only caused Dew to focus harder on the injection, unable to drown it out. Dew tensed as he felt a needle enter his skin, and choked back a sob when he felt the sting of the contents entering his body. But, like always, it was over as soon as it began.

“There, that wasn’t so bad,” Anton said. “I should check on your eyes. Try to relax, okay?”

Dew nodded, and Anton peeled the bandage off slowly. He sucked in a breath the second light hit eyes, and he batted the scientist’s hand away.

“Too bright!”

Anton winced. “Sorry.”

“Wait—” Dew lifted his hands up to his eyes and peeled the bandage off. He slowly peaked out, and breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he could still see. Thank fuck. Anton dimmed the lights, but everything still hurt to look at, so Dew covered his eyes again. “I-I can see fine, but- but it hurts.”

“We might need to keep those bandages on for a few weeks, while they heal, and just while your brain and body gets used to… a new eye. “You can handle that, right?””

Dew’s heart skipped a beat. “A— a what?” He squeaked.

“Another eye, Dewey.” He heard it in his voice that Anton was smiling wide. It made him shudder. “I made you grow another eye. On your forehead.”

“What?”

“That’s not the only thing, don’t worry. There’ll be more changes in the coming weeks, which is why the bandages have to stay on. It’s gonna be great.” Dew flinched as he felt the scientist’s hand gently ruffle his hair.

“O-okay.” Dew nodded, numb to it all. A new eye. He didn’t want to think about it. He was just thankful his vision wasn’t gone completely, a few weeks of darkness wouldn’t be too bad.

“Oh yeah!” Anton exclaimed, putting a cold bowl of something in Dew’s hands. “Ice cream, like I promised.”

“Th-thanks,” Dew said. It was vanilla, not his favorite, but he realized he didn't remember the last time he’d eaten ice cream, so he’d take what he could get.

Once Dew was done eating, Anton gently lifted him up and started walking to his room. He wrapped his arms tightly around Anton’s shoulders as a way to balance himself, disorientated from not being able to see and afraid of being dropped. He felt the scientist gently petting his back, probably trying to be comforting. Dew was carried up the stairs, through the door, and gently set into bed. He put his knees to his chest and reached a hand up to itch at his bandages, but Anton quickly stopped him.

“Don’t touch your bandages.” Anton reminded him, holding his wrist away from his face.

“They’re really itchy,” Dew said. “Do I really have to keep them on?”

“Yes. Your eyes need to heal.” Anton sighed. “I don’t wanna do this but… I don’t know if I can fully trust you either.”

“Do what?”

Dew flinched as he felt something rough and scratchy brush against his wrist that the scientist was holding, wrapping around it tightly. “Hey! What are—” He weakly pulled away, but Anton was stronger.

“Calm down. It’s just so you don’t mess with your eyes while you sleep. I can’t risk this going wrong.”

Dew looked down and allowed Anton to tie both of his wrists together behind his back. “There. That’s not so bad.”

“Easy for you to say…” Dew grumbled, flopping into bed. He curled into a ball, and the scientist tucked him under the covers. He thought he must look so defenseless like this, eyes covered, body restrained, completely unable to see anything coming. He hated being this vulnerable.

Anton petted his head softly, and smiled when Dew leaned into it. Dew wasn’t his clone, but he was still as cute as ever.

“Goodnight, Dewey.”

Dew heard the scientist leave the room and close the door. The click of the lock echoing through his ears. He heard footsteps get farther and farther away from his room, and assumed Anton had already turned the lights off and left the lab. He was alone.

Dew laid there on his bed, unable to move his arms that were restrained behind his back. He was still groggy from the drugs, dozing in and out of consciousness while he tried to focus on anything else but the incessant itching of the bandages and pain in his eyes. But it was dead silent in his room and he wasn’t even able to turn his music on. Unable to see, move, or hear anything, Dew was left to wallow in his own mind until he drifted off into a deep sleep.

. . .

Now that it was late at night, and Anton was by himself, the events of the day had caught up to him. It must’ve been so scary for his test subject, painful as well. Anton had to admit he was a bit blinded by the thrill of the experiment for a moment, and didn’t stop to think about how Dew was feeling. He could tell how much he was hurting, such a distressing and risky experiment would do that, he should’ve been more careful.

Anton felt disgusted with himself. But it’d be okay. Dew would forgive him eventually, and they’d move on, like they always did.

“Hey Anton, are you okay?” Sasha asked. They seemed to always see right through him.

“Yea—” No, he had waited long enough, it was time to tell his friend the truth. “No, I mean… Dew’s back.”

“...What?”

Anton fidgeted with the hem of his sweater. “I brought him back. Your guys' escape plan failed. I’m sorry.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t feel bad. It was inevitable. And there was no way he could live a normal life out there with his wings. I’m just… trying to protect him.”

They were quiet for a moment, then, “Can I see him?”

“He’s asleep right now and… I think it’d be best to leave him alone for now. After the experiment today… he needs time to heal from it. I can’t have anything interfering with the results. Though… maybe after a week or two, some enrichment would be good for him. I know you two are friends, it’s not right to keep you apart.”

“Will he be okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I think so.”

“Well, that’s good. Tell him I said hi?”

Anton smiled. “I will.”

“G’night, Anton.”

“Goodnight.”

—

eyes are so strange and wacky am i right

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soullessdianthus · 1 year

Text

𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐲 | 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝟏𝟒𝟏 𝐱 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Requested by anon:

A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR SUCH DELAY, I kept postponing it and then I had other things on my head.

Summary: Task Force 141 is sent to gather intel from cartel's warehouse. However, their informations were flawed and they were cornered by hostiles. Soap got shot and it doesn't look good. What will they do in a stalemate as such?

Warnings:reader is eastern european coded (just briefly), some gruesome desc. of wounds, blood and fights, talk of killing people

Word count: 3.8k

GIF by oleworldblues

The flight wasn’t a steady one, turbulence occurring every minute on board. Although such voyages weren't anything new, those tremors were irritating to say the least. You managed to stay in the seat for the most part of it, cursing the pilot, Nikolai for such an unpleasant ride.

A flick of regret crossed your mind, scolding yourself for being so strict on him. But all the remorse passed, when another turbulence made you hit your head over the helo’s wall.

When you crossed through the storm cloud, the helicopter twitched so suddenly and you jumped in your seat. Afraid of falling off the bench, without much thinking you grabbed what was the nearest to search for support. And it was Soap’s thigh.

━ Jesus, since when th’ lass‘ so handsy? ━ Scott laughed it off as you straighten your back against the helo’s surface.

━ Since Nikolai forgot how to navigate damn thing.

━ Then ye hadn’t seen Ghost drivin’ a car. That was somethin’ to be terrified of.

Soap chuckled while jokingly mocking the lieutenant sitting across them. As always the skull face remained solid, still and emotionless. You spent enough time in Task Force 141 to know that he had to be smirking under that thick layer of balaclava. Even if the big, grumpy guy denied it verbally. The spark in his eyes revealed all you had to know. Some people laugh with their eyes, you know?

━ I hope we won’t live that long to repeat the thing. ━ Gaz cut in, leaving the cockpit and entering space, where they were sitting. It meant they were close to landing.

Thank God, because if the flight would continue like this, you would have bumped into all of them by the time of your arrival at the meeting point.

The lights went off, when you got closer to the ground. A one, stronger jolt and the helo landed, dust floating in the air due to the propellers spinning around.

All of you gathered up near the exit, doing the last weapon and inventory check up. When everything was proper and intact, you were ready for the ramp to open.

━ Gonna wait for your signal on the radio ━ Nikolai said with a Russian accent, flicking some of the controls above his head. ━ Nadrat im zadnitsu [rus.: Kick their asses].

━ Sure will. ━ Gaz patted the pilot on his shoulder, before joining the rest of the team. The platform began lowering itself until it hit the ground beneath, hard.

You were supposed to meet up with Captain Price, leading a group of his own, just a few kliks from your landing location. Team’s sole purpose that night was to infiltrate the cartel’s hideout, north of Mexico's border. It wasn’t a fortress, but a well equipped warehouse at most.

Well, at least that's what your superiors were suspecting.

They needed proof of the cartel's affiliation with powerful drug traders overseas and any other information you managed to find inside, while Price’s team created a diversion. You were a group of professionals, what could go wrong?

When all of you walked out the helo, you took a look around, eyes getting used to the darkness flooding the field around. The night has fallen as the sun disappeared over the horizon.

You stuck closely to MacTavish as it was never smart to split up without strict order. Your main task as a medic was to keep an eye on them, patch them up if needed – overall, keep them alive.

There were no crickets to be heard, creatures hiding somewhere in the grass. But the gut feeling, or rather a natural intuition convinced you, something else was lurking in the plain field. When Nikolai started the engine again of the helo and flew off the ground, your eyes crossed with Ghost’s.

It was too quiet.

He believed something was off too and the Englishman was much more experienced in a field than you. That could only mean trouble.

You pinched your lips together into a fine line, involuntarily holding a breath in. Your muscles and joints were in a preparation mode. If the military had a medal for prophetic abilities, you would have a stack of them by now.

Just as you started moving towards the old, abandoned truck in the middle of the grassy field, the first shots got fired. Your knees softened, when you sprinted towards the rusty vehicle to take a cover.

You managed to take a quick look through the scope on your rifle, trying to asses – where were the fuckers coming from. But they hid in the bushes quite well. Those who were foolish enough to come closer to your group, quickly got eliminated.

Kyle was right by your side by the rusty car, shooting just above your head as you kneeled down. Suddenly an enemy troop jumped from his cover swinging a knife at your comrade. The steel shimmered in the moonlight.

It was a matter of seconds – despite the training sergeant had received, he couldn’t break the laws of time and space. You, on the other hand, were facing the threat directly.

━ Gaz, down! ━ You yelled, before taking down the man, piercing his chest with few bullets. You held the rifle up and steady, meanwhile the attacker stumbled backwards and fell onto the coarse grass beneath. Lifeless.

Kyle nodded in your direction, not exchanging a word of gratitude, but he didn’t have to. Besides, there was no time for courtesy. You were under fire.

━ Piece ‘f cake, eh? Real nice fuckin’ cake, Lt. ━ Soap mocked Ghost earlier words, as his predictions regarding this mission didn’t include an ambush right off the bat. ━ What now?

━ Focus, MacTavish, we need to take a cover. There’s an ol’ farm, only a klik east-south ━ The lieutenant reloaded his own rifle with a firm tug on the empty magazine. As always, he kept a cold blood even when surprised by unpredictable ━ We’re headin’ there, is that clear?

━ Aye. ━ Gaz approved and you silently nodded, feeling the raging pulse of your own heart in the neck artery.

You noticed that his dark gaze got stuck on your face, that probably got a little too pale due to the adrenaline. You were still getting used to working in a field, you’ve never been cornered like this before. Verbatim.

Every time after the mission, when you lay still in the barrack at night time, you wonder if Ghost felt like he was actually babysitting the whole Task Force. At least sometimes. Because it was usually you, Soap or Gaz who got into trouble.

Kyle and Johnny were around the same age, still fairly young to be in special forces, but you? You were even younger and less skilled, though you managed to catch up with different abilities than your male mates.

And Lieutenant Riley? He was older than all of you, that’s for sure. You didn’t know how much exactly, but that’s what you managed to deduce since your joining the squad.

So it wasn't an uncommon occurrence, where Ghost took the lead during a crisis and led you all to safety. He was more than sure all of you would manage on your own, if the circumstances were different.

━ Y/C, with me ━ the lieutenant stated, getting ready for the next step. ━ Soap, Gaz, you go together. We’re movin’, now.

Each soldier with a rifle held steadily in their hands, began to move swiftly through the darkness of the upcoming night. While Gaz and Soap took the right flank, you and Ghost took care of the left. The lieutenant kept in mind checking the back too. All you had to do was push forward.

It was a challenging task to keep up with their longer strides, but they were mindful of your struggles. You would never be left behind. One for one.

The outline of the old barn appeared in the reach of your hand as you pointed the rifle’s barrel towards the two men coming from your left. You managed to take one down, by shooting through his knee, however you missed the other one.

You cursed in your native language, letting the frustration out. Within the span of a couple seconds you collected your breath and aimed once again. This time you shot him, right through his shoulder. They had bullet proof vests, therefore shooting at their chest made no sense at all.

Shooting at the vest from up close – then, that’s a different story.

Muppets, as Captain Price called them, took down each one of the enemies without a slip up on their flank.

You’ve never said it outloud to anyone, especially not any member of Task Force, but in a work field you looked up to…well, some of them. They executed their tasks immaculately. Whilst you still had some things to learn, they were usually understanding, willing to help out. Usually, not always.

Sometimes, due to his harsh comments, you thought that Ghost expected you to be born with skills he achieved through the years in a service. Which, for obvious reasons, was not fair.

The way to the farm was a bumpy one, tall grass covering any holes in the ground, but you finally made it. Ghost and Gaz broke into the old stable and began checking out the insides. You were just behind them, when you heard Soap’s grunt through clenched teeth.

It could only mean one thing – Johnny got shot. You reached to touch his arm, maybe to pull him inside, but the Scottish sergeant did it anyway. With Kyle’s help you shut the heavy doors behind to give the team extra coverage.

You finally took a deep breath.

Ghost spoke through the radio, slowly walking up to the barn's other end. You deduced that he spoke with Price about the ambush, but your focus was on blood pouring out of the fresh wound.

You stepped closer and MacTavish leaned in, letting you take a look. And it didn’t look good. Soap inhaled the chilly air, a droplet of sweat rolling down his temple.

━ Shit. ━ You felt Ghost’s gaze upon your back, when you cursed with such passion. He was waiting on a report. ━ Bullet went through his arm.

━ The cartel wasn’t wasting money on security, huh? ━ Gaz mentioned, still quite not believing himself they encountered such skilled soldiers. Why weren’t they informed about that beforehand? They would take a bigger team.

━ But ━ you continued ━ because Soap is so bulky, the ammo didn’t scratch any important artery.

━ I knew you’d appreciate my form, lass.

━ Nevertheless, I insist on patching him up.

━ Insist? ━ The big Englishman repeated what he just heard, surely raising an eyebrow beneath mysterious balaclava. At least that's what you imagined him to do. When he looked at you, he saw your scowl. ━ Fuckin’ hell, fine. We need to stay ‘ere until Price comes with backup.

Ghost’s voice sounded firm and emotionless as always. Maybe there was a hint of annoyance, but who wouldn’t be? The intel wasn’t good enough if the cartel's security managed to take you by surprise and outsmart the special forces.

Kyle silently went outside to take a look around, patrol the surroundings when you took care of John’s nasty wound.

━ Hey, I’ll manage, no need to–

━ Don’t even start ━ you interrupted Scottish man, rummaging through the medic bag. ━ You want them to follow us by the trickle of blood you left behind? Or do you want to faint due to blood loss?

━ Alright, alright, I get it, lass. Sweet Jesus.

━ You’re like children. ━ The lieutenant pointed out at your foolish scuffle, checking each corner of the barn.

━ Do you know children that carry M4s?━ An even more stupid joke escaped your mouth, before you giggled silently, opening the new package of gause. Even Johnny chuckled, when you began applying pressure on top of his wound.

━ Keep your morals like this and we just might fulfill our task.

Ghost definitely had the charisma of an exhausted father, but that was one of his characteristics that not many people were fond of. But you were. You liked his tacky humor, always a way to brighten the day.

━ One-four-one, do you copy?

A sudden sound of the radio on your vest broke the silence. It was a voice belonging to Gaz, but usually his tone wasn’t so… nervous. Another bad omen.

━ We need to get out of ‘ere! ━ Just as he finished the sentence, Kyle ran through the barn’s door, M4 rifle in his hand. ━ They’ve got their own reinforcement.

━ How many? ━ You asked, finishing wrapping a tight bandage over Soap’s bicep.

━ I saw four cars riding through that bush we came from. ━ Dark skinned soldier answered, glaring through his shoulder. You have to be very aware of your surroundings from now on.

━ Y/C, you feel like sniping? ━ The skull had spoken, the brown eyes looking at you. No, through you. ━ Can you cover us?

━ Yes, I’ll keep an eye from the attic.

━ Good.

━ What about Price? Where is he? ━ Soap asked, reloading his weapon.

The Englishman pressed the button on his radio.

━ Bravo 0-6 this is Ghost, how long?

━ Hang on, four more kliks. Are you still in the barn? ━ Captain asked through the speaking channel only your team had access to.

━ Positive.

━ Good, stay there. Over and out.

Price’s voice vanished as soon as he echoed through the old stable. Situation wasn’t looking good for your team, but what else could you do? If Gaz was right and the enemy managed to distribute groups of his soldiers around the farm, there was no way out.

So you had to defend your position and wait. For what? At this point for a backup that miraculously appears from the skies.

You swiftly climbed onto the wooden ladder until you reached the upper floor of the old stable. There were bales of hay scattered around and few windows. One of the bigger ones was facing the courtyard between the buildings. When you were in a position, you took a look around the property.

Ghost was already prepared on the right side of the building you were in and Gaz was on the other. Meanwhile Soap was slowly walking around the antique fountain in the middle of the courtyard.

Everyone was ready and anticipating the enemy’s next move.

━ Gaz, three coming from your left. ━ You warned him through the speaking channel, before pointing the rifle’s end to those mentioned soldiers.

When the adrenaline bursts inside of your veins, time passes quite fast. Which was a dangerous thing, because if you lost track of it or a consciousness about your surroundings – you would be dead quickly.

You had to withhold your nerves and focus on one task at the time.

After a deep breath in, you slowly let it out. Looking through the rifle’s loupe, you began shooting at the group that just got out of the truck. A gunfire right beneath their feet, before they got perforated with your bullets.

A bitter, metallic taste spreaded over your tongue. You swallowed some saliva, checking up if you had bit the inside of your cheek. It happened before, when you completely zoned out during a shooting. You were so fixated on the task, you clenched your jaw on the delicate tissue.

But this time it was just remorse, building up each time you pulled the trigger. Of course, you knew not each inflicted harm caused inevitable death, some just made the enemy’s soldiers… indisposed. Nonetheless, it was a burden you had to carry on your shoulders.

When you cleared out the zone near the parked car, your sight moved to the Ghost outpost. He was stabbing the soldier's neck and shoulder with short and quick movements. In your assessment, he was doing fine.

Then when you wanted to check on Gaz and Soap, there was a thud over the wooden surface that got your attention. You snapped your head towards the sound and saw one soldier that managed to climb here.

━ I found the sniper. ━ The man said into his own radio, hooked over his tactical vest.

He rushed towards you and you tried to point your rifle at him. The man was faster and he grabbed the weapon, stopping you from shooting at him. There was only a little window of time to decide what to do next. So you used all your body weight to tackle that soldier to the ground.

Your arms wrapped around his thighs and you pushed forwards, causing him to fall backwards. Meanwhile, still having an upper hand, you reached for a karambit that was stacked behind your belt.

You managed to climb on top of him swiftly, because that was your advantage in a clash with big, muscular men. You raised your hand and before the blade reached his chest, the man grabbed your wrist in the air, blocking your further movements.

For a short while you struggled against his grip, trying to push the knife into his ribcage with the mass of your upper body. However, the mercenary locked you with his leg and rolled over you, trapping you beneath him.

You took a quick look around – both of you rolled over dangerously close to the edge of the attic. A sight of a few meters depth made you lightheaded. So you continued struggling, as the soldier held a firm grip over your wrist, cutting the blood flow. Even when your wrist went numb, you did not drop that karambit.

It was your most valuable bargaining chip in this situation.

You huffed a couple of times, slightly changing the position under the man’s frame. But when he finally reached for his gun, you grabbed the short barrel and pointed it far from your head.

Calculating the next step carefully, you decided to let him win over the knife in your hand. Because with the drop of it, he released your wrist. The man swung his whole shoulder to punch you in the face.

For a short moment you saw spots in front of your eyes, when his clenched fist met your cheekbone. Ouch.

And finally, when your arms began to give up, you focused your defense on your legs – they were stronger. You managed to tuck them beneath his pelvis and strengthen your legs, kicking him over your head. Only then, you released the barrel of the gun.

The mercenary fell over the edge of the attic and onto the ground beneath. You heard the loud thud followed by a crack. He broke his neck.

You laid there for a while, collecting your breath as you just faced death. Quite a normal day in the life of a soldier. The shootouts from the outside began to fade and it got you worried. You had to check that out.

━ Steaming Jesus ━ a familiar voice, brought you back to your full strength. You got up on your knees and carefully looked through the hole in the floor. ━ Is that how you greet people?

The American was standing above the body you just threw from the upper floor. A puddle of blood staining the ground.

━ Alex! ━ You expressed your enjoyment, seeing your college for the first time in a while. It meant he came with a backup. A miracle of tonight's ambush. ━ You’re saving our asses.

━ Come down now, the situation is under control.

You ran to gather your weapon, before hooking it around your shoulder. You quickly climbed down the ladder and walked up to a man with bright eyes and trimmed mustache.

━ Laswell send her regards. Price team wouldn’t make it on time ━ Alex Keller explained, putting one of his hands on your shoulder as the two of you slowly walked out of the barn to the courtyard. ━ A bloodbath, huh? Only the four of you?

Soap was sitting on the fountain’s edge, the material hugging his arm wasn’t soaked with blood. “Good” you thought. Some of Alex’s soldiers that were sent here by Kate Laswell walked around the farm to check every corner.

━ We don’t like crowds. ━ Gaz reached his hand to greet their friend, who was in Urzikstan. At least, that's what they thought. Until now.

━ Understandable, sergeant. ━ The ends of his mustache lifted up as he smiled. ━ We should wait here for Price and regroup.

━ So we continue what we started? ━ Just before you asked, Soap and Ghost joined the conversation in the middle of the courtyard, the pathways laid out with stones.

━ We can’t retreat now, they would know we’re after ‘em. ━ The lieutenant explained, why the retreat was an idea not even being speculated here. The presumed cartel would move along with their belongings, the proof you needed to gather.

So therefore withdrawal was off the table.

━ We need to strike ‘ard, now. ━ Ghost continued his talk, when the soldiers began to talk between each other from the other side of the abandoned house.

All of you turned around to see the upcoming Captain Price, pressing his rifle to his chest.

━ Took ya long enough, Captain. ━ Gaz stated bluntly, few droplets of blood appearing on his forehead.

━ Yeah, the intel was shit, we’re gonna take care of it later. Now, we have different targets. Gather up. Everyone in one piece?

The man in his forties looked at each one of you – from head to toes. Obviously, his eyes were locked with the bandage over Soap’s arm, but MacTavish quickly assured him it was only a scratch on the surface.

Which it wasn’t, yet he wasn’t bleeding, so for the sake of peace you nodded your head to assure Price.

━ Alright, the real fun can begin. We got ‘em outnumbered, this is going to be a quick and smooth operation. No slip ups from now on, understood?

The whole team agreed and began to mentally prepare for what was coming. Captain patted Gaz on his shoulder, before slowly walking away.

━ No more flying corpses? ━ Alex whispered, leaning towards you. It seemed that only the two of you heard the conversation.

And maybe Ghost who was standing on the other side of Sergeant Keller, because he looked at you with amusement.

━ We’ll see about that. Just try to get on my bad side, American boy.

Price whistled in a high pitched tone, announcing that all of you should gather up.

Once again you had that feeling in your guts, that it was going to be a long, exhausting night. And at the end of the day, your hand would be covered in blood, like a butcher (which you swore you wouldn’t be).

#request #reader insert #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #price x reader #john price x reader #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #platonic relationships #alex keller x reader

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shannonsketches · 1 month

Text

I overanalyze the hell out of everything but! While we're here--

I think a lot (and am too lazy to make the many many comics in my head) about how Vegeta was having fun with these androids (even being sportsmanlike with Piccolo about it!) until he found out who Trunks was (and also that they were the wrong androids). Then between that reveal and Bulma getting shot down, he switches back into Spite and Fury, and I just chinhands I think a lot about what a shot to the chest it would be to learn that you die -- you die in the future, you lose to these surprise enemies -- and your son, with his mother's machine and knowledge of the events, comes back to the past to make sure someone else lives.

"It's just because Goku's the first to die, so it's a domino effect!" Yes, but,

Vegeta was standing right there when Bulma said her strategy was to destroy the androids before they became an issue. Vegeta knows that Bulma feels very strongly that this is the move, and that waiting is stupid. He also knows that she watched him dabble on Earth for a year and a half before Goku came home.

So he knows that she could've sent Trunks back earlier, and had him talk to Piccolo. Vegeta could've used that entire ~12-18 months to train for a specific threat, or even just to prepare for Frieza's return.

He also knows that she could've just as easily sent Trunks back while they were all on Namek, and taken care of the issue before any of them were even made aware of it. That was her suggestion in the present! Trunks could've left Goku's medication with Roshi, or Popo, and just let it remain a mystery where it came from and how it got there.

But instead, Trunks came the day that Goku came back. So he could meet Goku. And talk to Goku. So he could make sure Goku survived. So Goku could save everyone. Because Goku would be there to win the day. Because Goku's is the strength they trust to be enough.

The way that must corrode your insides and just flood you with envy, and spite, and poison. The way he behaves for the rest of this arc despite the clever strategist we saw on Earth and on Namek, despite the cautious observation, the patience, the snarky humor, the distinct recognition of a threat that needs eliminating before it's too late -- despite all these things we've seen him be and have and do, after this point he's reckless and fuming and desperate to prove himself to the detriment of everyone around him.

As a punishment, maybe? For choosing Goku over You?

As necessity? Because you've spent 30 of your 31 years having the value of your life measured solely by your ability to win?

As a distraction? From knowing that you spent your life fighting tooth and nail for all that you are, only to die, humiliated, at the feet of your enemies having failed to do the only task you felt you were alive to do, then be revived by mistake, then learn that even your own child would prefer the person who succeeded at that one seemingly impossible task?

It's really no wonder, at this extremely low and fragile point in Vegeta's life, that he went from quietly standoffish to actively erratic from this point. It's not until Cell slaps him with the reality check of losing those precious few who continued to choose him despite his profound personal and operational failures (which were likely a death sentence, where he's from) that he settles back down (in the manga) to being quietly standoffish, strategic, and cooperative toward the higher goal.

Then spends the next seven years learning it never had to be like that because it turns out people on this planet mostly still want you to be alive and come home even if you fuck up real bad and you actually don't have to be The Star Executioner to be valued and welcomed and even?? Loved?? Which sucks to learn after you've already gotten your son and your rival and very nearly your rival's son killed by being an insecure jackass and making everything worse than it had to be.

But don't worry, it'll only happen one more time and it'll only take like 40 minutes to publicly murder like 2000 people and almost destroy the entire universe because you had something totally different to prove this time, it's a minor relapse at best, it's fine, everyone's fine, we're all gonna wish that memory away from all the innocent people and only think about it at 2am when you're awake laying in bed trying to figure out why the fuck you're still allowed in this house and you can spend the next 4-6 years turning your shit around and embracing that soft emotions are okay to feel and you're not a defective specimen being slowly deconstructed on a backwater space rock and it's actually normal to care about stuff and it's everything you were ever taught before this that was toxic and wrong and had to be unlearned so you could grow and change and harness true strength instead of chasing shallow power so it's fine!! It's totally fine. Everything's fine. He's fine. He's good.

#silly hours #dbtag #media analysis #long post #I just have a lot of feelings about Vegeta #fellas have you ever rotated a blorbo for 26 years laksjdakshf

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blinddreams24 · 9 months

Text

Good Soup

With Horror

Masterlist

Prev / Next

You sneezed.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it definitely wasn’t this.

Your soul was blue as you sat on the wall waiting for the skeletons to calm down enough for you to get a word in. From the snippets you could distinguish in the chaos of sound, they thought you were sick and needed medical attention or you would die. Surprisingly enough, Killer seemed the calmest. Key word being ‘seemed.’ Hate dripped freely down his face. Cross was sweating and arguing with Horror while somehow managing to keep his magic from dissipating. Horror looked close to throwing hands. Dust kept up with the conversation with his own hurried input. Nightmare stood behind them all silently while his tentacles whipped around behind him. He’d been staring at you since the sneeze.

You waved at Nightmare. His tentacles slowed for a moment as he tilted his head at you. He pushed passed the quarreling group and Cross spoke up.

“I’m not sure it’s safe to go near them, sir-” Cross said.

“WHATEVER!!!” Horror finally snapped at Dust before stomping into the kitchen. “DO WHAT YOU… WANT!!!! I GO…MAKE SOMETHING!!” Dust huffed at Horror’s departure before continuing the argument with Killer.

Nightmare gently gripped Cross’s shoulder. “I think they’ve spent enough time on the wall, don’t you think?” He said patiently.

Cross’s eyes darted between you and Nightmare for a moment before he carefully lowered you to the ground and released you. Now without something to do, he started fidgeting as Nightmare took a step towards you.

Nightmare stayed a good distance away when he addressed you. “Y/N. Care to fill us in on why you are calm about this?”

“Because I’m not sick. I just got some dus- something in my nose that made me sneeze. There is nothing wrong. I am fine.” As you spoke, the argument in the background had gotten quiet. The group seemed calmer but definitely didn’t believe that you were okay. You took a step forward when you suddenly had three layers of blue magic on your soul. Nightmare glared at the three skeletons. They gave him sheepish looks before reluctantly releasing your soul.

You sighed. “It’s a human thing. If a foreign substance gets in my nostrils, my body will reject it and force it back out by sneezing. It can happen when I get sick, but that doesn’t mean that I am sick. Currently, I’m not sick.” The skeletons sighed in relief.

Nightmare looked intrigued. “What exactly are you rejecting when you sneeze?”

“It depends. But mostly dirt, dust, toxins-” You froze as another sneeze started coming. The gang got uncomfortable when you interrupted yourself and your face twisted. “Achoo!” They flinched at the sound.

There was a clatter in the kitchen before Horror sped into the room and grabbed you. You protested and fought back as he ran you to the couch and wrapped you in at least three blankets like a burrito.

“Horror!” You snapped, struggling to get out of the bundle. “I’m fine! Let me out!”

“Stay.” Horror growled. “I’ll grab you soup. . . Website said soup.” He hurried back to the kitchen before you were able to call out to him.

“Heh heh.” Killer giggled at you. He leaned over the back of the couch. “I wouldn’t move unless you want Horror to hunt you down.”

You stopped struggling and glared at him. “You’re no help at all.”

He shrugged, grin splitting his face. “Maybe.”

Nightmare came around the couch to face you. “You said something about toxins.”

“Yeah.” You glared once more at Killer, earning another giggle, before turning to address the boss. “Sneezing is also a way to get rid of toxins. Just like sweating, crying, and exhaling.”

Everyone leaned away from you.

“You’re telling me that you’re spreading toxins everywhere while you breathe??” Killer questioned, leaning further away from you. You blew air at him. He yelped and backpedaled, falling behind the couch.

Turning back to Nightmare, you clarify. “It’s not that type of toxin. It’s more like hot air. It won’t do anything unless it’s the only air there.” You hesitated. “I don’t know how to explain it. You’d have to understand the human body more.”

There was obviously still confusion coming from everyone when Horror came back with a steaming bowl.

He shoved it at you. “Soup.”

“Thanks, Horror. I’m not sick tho.” You said, still burritoed.

His face of confusion matched everyone else’s. “You’re . . . not sick?” He thought for a moment. “But sneezes mean . . . you’re sick.”

“Not always. Sometimes humans just sneeze.” You explain shortly.

Killer’s grinning face crested the back of the couch. You gave his mischievous look a suspicious side eye. “Yeah, Horror. Sometimes they just sneeze out toxins.”

Horror’s face went panicked.

“You’re not helping!!” You snapped at Killer. “Horror, he’s-Mph!” Your mouth suddenly had a spoon in it. The flavor of chicken noodle soup filled your senses as Horror continually spoon fed you. You sent Killer another glare as he laughed at your expense.

At least the soup was good.

#undertale #nightmare sans #horror sans #dust sans #killer sans #cross sans

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arobinwithoutbatman · 10 months

Text

My muse was unexpectedly kidnapped, and was never able to be found. A year later, your muse comes across an old abandoned building, and finds my muse tied up, wounded, and barely alive. What is your muse's reaction?

@dramatisperscnae

Tim missed Gotham. His Dad Jack. Call him Jack. That monster isn't his Dad anymore had sort of... snapped a while back how long has it been now? Time isn't real anymore and pulled Tim out of school, sold their town house in Bristol and just. Left. He was fairly sure they left the State but he wasn't sure where they ended up. Tim wasn't allowed to know. He spent the entire ride asleep against his will. His room had a skylight so he could see the sky and get vitamin D from the sun but it didn't open and Tim couldn't reach it. He had a couple of windows too but they were high up on the wall, too high for him to reach and only showed him sky and the very tops of what could either be trees or hills. He definitely wasn't in a city, he could say that much.

His door was locked, as always. Dad Jack kept the key somewhere; upstairs in the main house probably or on his person. Tim was pretty sure he'd been up there? For meeting the neighbours and other guests? Maybe? It was hard to say. He was in a constant haze of drowsiness these days, it slowed his mind down in a way he despised because it meant he couldn't form a plan of escape, couldn't keep track of what he was seeing or even what day it was. The only method of time keeping he had was the passing sunlight and Dad Jack! He's not Dad anymore! The more I call him Dad, the closer I am to giving in entirely! stopping by with his food. His empty dinner tray was on his desk.

His room wasn't empty, far from it. Plenty of room to move around and stretch, build legos on his carpeted floor, a big comfy bed, a big fancy desk for studying and doing his online classes. Heavily monitored of course. If he even started typing anything that wasn't approved, Jack would knock him out. Sleeping gas usually. Mostly to avoid drugging him more than he already was. Tim had tried figuring out which of his various medications was responsible; he didn't wasn't allowed to leave his prison room so took various vitamins and other things to make sure he was getting the nutrients he needed. Which wasn't enough because Tim had long since lost the muscle tone of being Robin. Which sucked because he'd been pretty proud of that.

Tim shifted on his bed, the oranges and pinks he could see through his skylight told him it was sunset. May as well get comfy. He didn't exactly have anything else to do. He rolled onto his side, the cuff and long chain around his ankle didn't bother him anymore. It was long enough to allow him to comfortably move around in his sleep and walk freely around his room. Couldn't quite reach his door though.

Hazy ice blue eyes blinked slowly as he took in the figure before him.

"Oh. This hallucination again. Or lucid dream? I can't tell the difference anymore. I'd say your name out loud but I'm pretty sure my Dad is listening and I don't feel like losing more time as punishment for not agreeing with him. Not so soon after last time." He yawned. "What are we talking about tonight?"

#dramatisperscnae #ic #Tim Drake The Boy #v: nebulous future #thread: lost little robin fly away home #f: acrobat #tw: drugging #tw: kidnapping #tw: imprisonment #((i am so sorry for what dick is about to see))

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theplaceicommitmysins · 4 months

Text

18+ He’s The Next One: 5 - F!Reader X L Lawliet

No gendered language is used (Probably). The reader is described as wearing a dress.

Wordcount: 3.8k

Contains: Second person POV, NSFT, BDSM, Restraints, Blindfolds, Power Imbalance, Vibrators, Overstimulation, Aftercare, The reader is a serial killer, Good Boy, Kink Not Negotiated.

L has been keeping secrets from you and he doesn’t even have the manners to hide it.

The moment you turn the door handle to the current hotel room the task force is calling headquarters you can hear him say, “Cut the audio and visuals.” And by the time you’re inside the monitors are off and the task force is avoiding eye contact.

So it’s something bad.

Matsuda in particular looks sick to his stomach and the one time you manage to catch his eye he looks close to tears and fully turns around to face away from you.

So it’s something bad involving a woman.

They haven’t mentioned Misa in the past three days.

You don’t doubt L would keep you out of the investigation if he felt the need to do something you wouldn’t approve of, and you have even less doubt that asking him directly would prove fruitless. So rather than confront L, you stalk Watari.

Stalk may be a strong word for it actually. You spent an hour before sunrise waiting outside the hotel for the man to emerge and when he did you told him, “I’m coming with you.” And one forty-five minute drive later you were entering a high security facility, passing rows and rows of inmates and noting how the cells are less and less populated the further in you go.

So they’ve caught the second Kira, Misa, and for some reason L doesn’t want you to know that. It’s several more minutes of walking, passing through high security doors and clearance checks before Watari gestures for you to enter a cell at the very end of the hall and-

What the sweet french fried fuck.

Misa Amane is strapped to some kind of vertical gurney, arms restrained not only by leather straps that are more reminiscent of a bondage harness than any sort of medical restraint, but by some kind of straight jacket dress that’s been ripped off barely a third of the way down her thighs. There’s a metal blindfold holding her head up and a wave of nausea rolls through you at the sight of her little idol brand pigtails poking out from the top of it.

Across from her is a camera on a tripod.

You kick it over, the clatter loud in the overly large empty room with its metal walls and she flinches.

“Kill me.” Misa’s voice is small at first, then desperate as she begs, “I can’t take it anymore, please just kill me!”

“Oh someone’s gonna die for this honey, but it sure as shit isn’t you.”

It’s been a while since you’ve felt this exact feeling. This wave of heat that rushes from your ears down into your chest, only to be washed away by the cold that always follows. Your hands go from shaking with rage to perfectly still. A provoked animal becoming a predator lying in wait.

“What? Who are you? You aren’t the man from before.”

The sound of the camera being crushed underneath the sole of your shoe as you stomp out the lens is soothing to you, plastic and glass twisting and fracturing until it’s unrecognizable.

Watari watches on impassively.

You pick up the tripod and swing it like a bat, at the only other ‘furniture’ in the room, a metal cart with wheels covered in tools and ‘medication’ you have no doubt this girl was subjected too and the sound of the glass of the bottles shattering and the contents scattering on the floor soothes enough of your wrath that you can find your voice again.

“No, I’m not. You can call me M. I’m going to get you out of here.”

“M-“

“Shut up.” You bite out, cutting Watari off. “You know who I am, Watari.” You can’t find yourself giving a damn if that’s his real name or not, even in the second Kira’s presence, “You know what I do. So you know exactly the lengths I am willing to go to when I say that I am going to release Ms. Amane.”

Heading over to the discarded contents of the torture cart you pick up a scalpel before going to Misa, and starting to slice through one of the leather straps, being careful to insert the blade sideways, then twisting it to face you before drawing it down.

“He knows exactly who you are? Who are you? Why are you helping me?”

“I’m a murderer.” You wouldn’t state it so bluntly if you didn’t know she was one too. “I kill perverts and predators, anyone who preys on those they see as defenseless really.”

You cut through another of the straps.

“This is some kind of trick isn’t it, you’re just lying because you think I’ll tell you something if-“

“I don’t give a shit what you do or don’t say Amane.” Another strap is severed. “My being here is quite simple. Kira stole my kills,” Stole my denial, “So I am going to kill him.”

“No!” You have to quickly jerk the scalpel away as Misa begins to thrash her head, “I won’t let you kill Kira! Kira’s a hero! He killed the people who killed my parents!” With a sigh you work on the straps near her hips while she rants, “Over and over the court did nothing to punish the man who took my family from me! I was just a kid and he killed them in front of me! He-“ Tears escape from beneath her mask as she sobs and the sound tears into your heart, “ He killed them and then the courts- They just pushed the case back year after year and then-”

…Wait a goddamn minute.

“He was acquitted.”

“He- How did you-”

“Was the name of the man Satsujin Namae?”

“Yes! But how-“

“Motherfucker!” The rush of hot rage floods your system again and this time it doesn’t cool down as you spin and hurl the scalpel across the room, dissatisfied by the way it pings ineffectually off of the metal of the wall. A laugh tears it’s way from your chest at the sight and you double over, the sound horrific and strained even to your own ears as you all but cackle, “Of course he hasn’t just stolen my kills he’s stolen my fucking credit too!”

You laugh again, tears nearly falling from your eyes with the force of it, before you scream, “Fucker!”

“Your- Your kill?! How dare you! Kira is the one who saved me! Kira is the one who brought him to justice, he-“

“Had a heart attack because I injected him with enough liquid potassium chloride to kill a horse. An overdose causes heart spasms and in a toxicology report it just looks like the muscle tissue released potassium into the bloodstream since it does that when damaged anyway.”

You sure are cutting her off a lot. Oh well, you’ve never been accused of having good manners. Only murder.

“…You killed Namae?”

“I’ve killed a lot more people than just him.” Your words come out almost melancholic as you fetch the discarded scalpel, smiling slightly at the blunted tip, then return to slicing off her restraints.

It’s quiet for a while, Misa processing, you freeing her, and Watari likely reporting everything to L via text. You’ll either deal with or damn the consequences later.

“So, If I was the second Kira… Then Kira lied to me. About my parents, I mean.”

You shrug, unbuckling her ankles, “Maybe. He’s killed several thousand people at this point, he might’ve just assumed Namae was one of them.”

The last thing to come off is the blindfold and you smile at Misa warmly. This is the Kira that only needs a face to kill, but it’s also the Kira who devoted her life to the person who killed her parents. “I’m gonna get you out of here now, okay?”

She’s looking above your head at first, then her watery eyes drift back to your face and she lets out a sob, all but flinging herself into your arms on unsteady legs as you catch her, arms wrapped tight around her waist, “I’ve got you Amane, you’re safe now. It’s going to be alright.” One hand comes up to pet her greasy hair and you cringe slightly at the feeling but keep up the motion, “The people who hurt you will never hurt you like this again. Or anyone else for that matter.”

Another sob is choked out into your shoulder and you aren’t surprised when her legs give out from under her. Thankfully she’s tiny enough that you can lift her up, scooping her into your arms in a bridal carry as you turn to face Watari, all the while stroking a thumb soothingly across one of her shoulders, “Bring the car around so we can retrieve her things and bring them to my hotel.” You aren’t stupid enough to leave the girl unsurveilled but she doesn’t need to know that.

Watari gives a half bow of his head and the three of you leave the facility. Misa’s whispered gratitude never once stops, until she loses consciousness in your lap in the car, having sobbed herself past the point of exhaustion.

---

“Was Satsujin Namae one of yours? Truly?” L is standing behind you, looking over your shoulder at the security feed of the Yagami duo’s cells, watching Light sleep and Yagami-san stare off into space, while you lounge in L’s usual seat.

“He was. Didn’t premeditate it though, I just recognized him and happened to have one of my little backup plans in my bag.”

“… I wasn’t aware of that one.”

You let out a little huff of amusement, turning to peer over your shoulder with a cheeky smile, the look turning genuine at his expression of near befuddlement, “If you give me a list of the ones you know I can give you a number for how many you missed.”

You don’t expect what happens next, but L blushes. Very suddenly, nearly as much as the last time the two of you…

Interesting.

“Did you plan for me to find her?”

“I had accounted for the possibility.”

“But was it the plan?”

The blush reaches his ears.

---

“M!” Misa hugs your arm, “Let me paint your nails!”

She’s a sweetie, even if she does tend to cling.

---

“M!” Misa jumps up and down on her knees in your bed, “Let’s have a slumber party!”

You tense up then smile and nod, “Sure, Misa.” listening to L’s footsteps retreat behind you, your… Plans for the night are now canceled.

---

“M!” Misa’s arms wrap around your shoulders from behind, “You could totally be a model! Do you wanna come to a shoot with me?”

You choke on your toothpaste and drop your brush on the bathroom floor in your surprise, “Misa, I’m not even wearing pants!”

“You can borrow one of my skirts!”

---

L lets out an 'oof' in surprise as you unceremoniously climb into his lap, hand going to his throat as you press two fingers to his pulse point and count under your breath.

“Can I help you with something, M?”

“Just checking.”

“My pulse?”

“Yup.”

“I see.”

You let your hand wrap around to the back of his neck as you pull yourself in close for a cuddle.

“…And Miss Amane is alive?”

“Yup.”

“That’s good.”

You snort.

---

Socked feet skid on the floor as you slide your way across the room, arms windmilling as you stumble to a stop, latching onto the back of L’s chair. “Misa and Matsuda are on set today!”

“Yes, they are-“

You grab the back of L’s shirt like you’re scruffing a kitten and drag him out of the room’s lounge and into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind you with a slam.

“You’re eager, it seems.”

“Something like that.” There’s an edge to your smile that you can feel, that you know L notices when he slowly starts taking steps backwards. “I’ve been waiting weeks for this. What was it you said before?”

He bumps into the edge of the bed, falling backwards but catching himself with his forearms.

“Oh yeah!” You drag the words out as you make your way over to him, shoving your knee between his to push his legs open as you crawl over him. “You’ve been bad.”

L moves to sit up but you place a hand on his collar bone, fingers at the base of his neck, and push your full weight down, flattening him to the bed and drawing out a sharp gasp from between his parted lips.

“What am I, L?”

“A killer.” No hesitation. Rude, but fair.

“And who do I kill?” He tenses at this. As if you would try to kill him in a room adjacent to a bunch of cops. The door isn’t even locked for goodness’ sake.

“Perverts.”

“I kill perverts.” You parrot back, nodding your head and smiling at him encouragingly, free hand coming up to pat his head like a well behaved dog. “But we made a promise, L. I’m not going to kill anybody so long as your heart continues to beat.” As you say this your hand drags down the front of his chest, nails digging in and scratching through his shirt, pleased by the flutter you feel beneath the tips of your fingers, “But there are other ways to punish somebody.”

The man doesn’t even wear socks so you knew better than to expect a belt.

That’s why you’ve been wearing one with every single outfit since you freed Misa.

You brush your palm over the length of him through his jeans before tracing up your own body to your waist, unbuckling the belt you’ve cinched your dress with and slowly pulling the leather free, dragging it out just to hear the soft sound of it whispering against fabric. It pleases you to see the rise and fall of L’s chest as he takes sharper breaths than before. His eyes are locked on your belt and his tongue flicks out to wet his lips when it finally falls free.

“Wrists next to your head, palms up.” The backs of L’s fingers skim against the sides of your thighs before he moves his hands up as he’s told, obeying your order and you smile at him, leaning forwards until your body is pressed against him, allowing him the privilege of feeling every curve, “Good boy.”

His hips jerk up.

You bring the belt up, drawing it down behind his head, then up and over his wrists, looping back around until the buckle and the length of it can meet at the front, restraining his wrists and covering his eyes as you pull it taut. As the leather cinches around him and tightens you enjoy the feeling of him shuddering beneath you, feeling the hard press of his interested cock against your lower belly.

“I’ve always been someone who likes the idea of karmic balance. The thought that what goes around, comes around.”

With that you climb off of him, smirking as he grunts and rolls his hips up, chasing the feeling of you.

You don’t waste time divesting him of and discarding his trousers and the boxers he wears beneath, tossing them to the side without care before climbing back on top of him and straddling his thighs. With a smile you pull the front of his shirt up over his abdomen, admiring him as he’s revealed to you.

He’s noticeably lean, not svelte like a dancer or lithe like an athlete, but gaunt, like a man intermittently starved. Bony and angular with skin so pale it looks ashen underneath the mid-morning light that filters in through sheer curtains, colorless save for soft pink nipples that harden under the attention of the AC. You can’t help but run your fingers across him, barely brushing his nipples then feeling the jut of his ribs, just nearly visible, tracing around his navel then trailing down to where a light dusting of black hair grows, getting thicker until it meets the thatch of hair at the base of his cock.

You suspect others might find the sight of him sickly.

Maybe you’re the sick one.

It’s still unfair how pretty it is, you note to yourself. There’s a bead of pre-cum at the tip of his cock and you pull back at the foreskin to expose more of the pretty pink head, letting out a small giggle into the quiet of the room when his cock twitches against your fingers and the pre-cum drips down, falling until it clings to your fingers. Bringing that hand up you let your dirtied fingers dip in between L’s parted lips, cooing gently to him as he licks the taste of himself off of your fingers, “Good boy.” You watch his cock twitch again and lean to press a kiss against his cheek, to appease the fuzzy feeling the sight puts in your chest.

“To truly give you what you deserve I’d have to ask you questions and abuse your poor pretty cock when you don’t give me the answer I want… But there’s really nothing I want to ask you.”

“Pretty?” He sounds so breathy and you wonder if he’s been waiting for this too.

“The prettiest. ” Reaching into a pocket you pull out something you’ve been saving just for L, a small bullet vibrator, nearly the same pretty pink shade as his cock, and press it against him, the tip of it nestled just beneath his glans, then wrap the cord for the remote around and around until it’s held in place. “Can you guess what this is, detective?”

He swallows and darts his tongue out to wet his lips before responding, “I would assume a toy of some kind. Likely one that vibrates?” He sounds a bit nervous, or maybe excited? His body language certainly screams anticipation.

With a bright grin that L can’t see you reach out and flick the dial on it to the first setting. “Good boy.”

---

Stretching out to reach the side table you turn the bedside lamp on with a soft click, bathing the room in a soft warm light before turning back to your book, the soft light alleviating some of the eye strain you were beginning to feel as the light from outside steadily dimmed.

You’re sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed with L’s head and still restrained hands in your lap, your panties shoved in his mouth, completely soaked through with spit, as he thrashes and sobs. You turn the page of your book, as if it’s held any of your attention whatsoever, then card your fingers through L’s hair, pushing it away from his sweat soaked forehead, with a gentle hum that he responds to by curling in on himself and heaving for breath, drool spilling out past your panty gag and further soaking a wet spot on the hem of your dress.

The vibrator doesn’t match his cock anymore, it’s stayed the same of course, but what was once a pretty shade of blush pink is now somewhere between a furious red and a freshly bruised purple underneath layers and layers of cum that pool on and dribble down the sides of L’s stomach.

It really is getting late now, the sun having set about half an hour ago and when you look at the pretty picture L makes in your lap you think this is enough for now. You lean over him and brush against the toy, Pulling back when L flinches and cries out through his gag, “Shh… it’s okay sweetheart, We’re almost finished… I’m just going to turn this off now, okay?”

L’s breathing so fast it’s a wonder he doesn’t lose consciousness but after a few moments as his cum drunk overstimulated mind processes what you said he nods his head in a repeated jerky motion, like he’s forgot how to move his body by his own volition. It makes you smile.

With a click you’ve got the vibrator turned off, and you slowly unwind the cord from around his cock, humming out soothing sounds and brushing sweat soaked hair away from his face once again as you ease the toy off of him, “Very good, L. You’ve been so good for me through all this.”

Tears fall from beneath the belt around his eyes and you lean in to kiss them away.

“All these tears even though I was so much nicer to you than you were to poor Misa.” Your hands go to the belt buckle, easing it open to uncover his eyes and freeing his wrists, “But I think you’ve learned to be nicer to those who can’t fight back, right sweetie?”

L shudders as you reach forwards and pinch your panties between two fingers, pulling them out from between his teeth and tossing the drenched fabric over the side of the bed, to be dealt with later. His arms are shaking as he twists to lie on his side, draped over your lap, and clings to you, pressing his face hard against your side as he struggles to catch his breath.

You go right back to petting his hair and cooing out gentle reassurances to the man using your free hand to rub against his wrist with a thumb, gentle circles to make sure the circulation is good and working. All the while his sobs die down into whimpers, then pants, then soft little huffs of breath.

You’ve never seen him do it before, knowing logically he must be capable of it, but you’re still somehow surprised when L falls asleep.

Gently, you ease him out of your lap, moving quietly so you can tiptoe to the en suite bathroom and wet a hand towel with warm water from the tap before returning quickly to his side.

Softly, with gentle movements you take great care to clean him up, starting by washing away his sweat then the layers upon layers of dried cum, before ending feather light at his abused cock. He whimpers and twitches when you touch it, still asleep, so you reach out with your free hand to run your fingers through his hair again, soothing him until he stills.

“He let me do this,” You think to yourself. “He could have raised his arms at any point and he would have been free. But then I’d still be upset with him.”

You toss the washcloth to the floor, press a gentle kiss to his forehead, and fall asleep in the wet patch, holding L in your arms.

---

When the light from the curtains pours in you quint against the evil daylight, burrowing your face further into the spot you’ve tucked yourself against L’s chest and smiling at the warm chuckle you hear a quiet, “Good morning.”

L’s voice is scratchy from overuse, and low from sleep.

Tipping your head up you press a soft kiss to his lips, whispering back, “Good morning."

#n.sft #.are writes #.are posts #reader insert #l lawliet #death note #smut

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meraki24601 · 11 months

Note

Can there pleeeeaaassseeee be a part 2 to Thief (Version 2)

???

Absolutely! I'm glad you enjoyed the first part!

Thief Version 2: Part 2

Part 1

-----------*-***-*-----------

For the week Hero was in and out of consciousness, Villain barely left their bedside.

Hero had been telling the truth about their revealed identity. Villain had carried Hero into the medical wing of their best facility. Hero’s new bandages had already bled through. One by one, Villain refused each doctor who approached to help. Every one walked up with concern and passion to help in their eyes, but when they saw Hero’s face, determination turned to disgust. Villain couldn’t trust them with Hero. Not a single one.

Not until Medic showed up. They burst through the med wing doors, complaining about being called in on their day off. They continued complaining as one of the nurses explained the situation, and they approached Villain and the unconscious body in their arms. This time, when they saw who Villain was holding, instead of disgust, Villain could only see sorrow. “Stupid Heroes always cutting my days off short.” They turned and called over their shoulder for someone to bring a stretcher, then turned back and stared Villain in the eyes, “You’re an idiot if you think I’m letting you go back in the OR looking like that. Go clean the blood off yourself. I’ll send for you when they’re in a room.”

Villain glared at Medic, “You do know who I am, correct? You know what will happen if I hear you let Hero die.”

“Yeah, sure, you’re the big bad Villain. I couldn’t care less about anything but saving my patients, so could you put them down already? We need to hurry. Is there anything vital I need to know before I take them back?”

“They’ve been homeless for about two months. I removed a tracker from their arm. They’re definitely malnourished if they’ve lost as much weight as I think they have.”

“Alright. Thank you. Now get out of here before I kick you out.” With that, Medic turned away, taking Hero with them.

To everyone’s surprise, including Villain’s, they left once Medic and Hero disappeared through the OR doors. True to their word, Medic called the moment Hero was out of surgery. They had removed small pieces of glass from Hero’s back that must have been there since Villain threw them through a window, pulled out a bullet from their side that was most likely put there less than two hours earlier, rebroke and set the bone in Hero’s right leg, treated and sewed up several gashes made by knives and several others that seemed to have been from dog teeth and claws, and treated the many bruises covering their body. They were also under close watch for their concussion, which had been made worse by repeated injury, malnutrition, and dehydration.

In summary, Medic simply sighed, “The idiot is lucky to be alive, so once you’re clean, you better get back here, 'cause I don’t trust a single one of these nurses to actually take care of them, and I want to go home.”

Villain made a note to make Medic their primary doctor. Back in the hospital wing, they could tell they had paid attention to every detail and worked hard to ensure Hero would live to see tomorrow.

Like Medic, Hero decided they didn’t trust the nurses either. Outside of an emergency, no one was allowed in Hero’s room unless Villain, Medic, or one of Villain’s three most trusted guards were present. It didn’t matter much since Villain spent all the time they could in the small room with their sleeping nemesis.

They told themselves they stayed because Hero refused to stay asleep. Of course, they weren’t conscious enough of the world around them to know where they were or what had happened to them. It was just enough to cause them to panic and reopen their wounds. By day three, Medic and Villain had decided to strap them to the bed for their own safety. It caused them more stress when they woke, but at least Hero finally started healing.

Hero’s dog was probably the most help through the process. The first few days they had been held at another facility to be cleaned and their wounds treated by a vet Villain called in. After that, Villain decided to bring them in to help Hero heal and keep Villain company. It had surprised Villain when they first saw the dog with their red service dog vest. The animal had been instrumental in calming Hero down.

On day seven, they woke for real.

“Where… am I? Help.” Hero groaned, weakly pulling against the restraints on their wrists.

“Hospital. You’re fine.” Villain said, not looking up from the papers piled in their lap. “Relax. You’re safe now, Hero. Go back to sleep.”

“Who’s there? Let me go.” A small sob, weak and hopeless, drew Villain’s attention up to Hero’s open, squinting eyes. They searched the ceiling above them, blinded by the relatively bright light.

“You’re awake!” Villain gasped, throwing their work aside to lurch for the light. Since it was late, nearly 11 at night, and the curtains were drawn, turning off the bright overhead plunged the room into complete darkness. Cursing quietly as they bumped their knee on the end of Hero’s bed, Villain turned on the softer lamp on the bedside table.

The few seconds of darkness were too much for the confused Hero. As Villain turned back to them, they realized the mistake. Hero’s eyes were clenched shut, mouth open in a hoarse, silent scream. They pulled at the bindings on their wrists and ankles, close to tearing open the skin despite their weakened state. Villain’s stomach churned at the sight of their Hero, consumed with fear and pain.

“Up,” Villain called to the dog, watching intently from his corner. The animal was instantly on the bed, giving Hero deep pressure therapy. The dog always seemed to know to be careful of Hero’s wounds, and Villain could feel themselves take a deep breath as Hero finally did.

“Edge, you’re here.” Hero gasped, petting the dog where it touched their hand. “Where am I?”

“You’re in one of my facilities.” Villain stepped closer so Hero could see their face. “You collapsed outside one of my stores.”

“Villain!” Hero yelled as much as their ruined voice would allow, “You captured me? I collapsed? I… No. You… You shot me with tranquilizers!”

“Yes, that most likely was a large contributing factor in your collapse.” Villain laughed slightly as they petted the dog in Hero’s lap. “It’s alright, Hero. I’m not going to hurt you. Do you remember what I told you before you fell asleep?”

Hero shivered, “You said I couldn’t die yet, but I…”

“I did say that, yes. I also said I was going to take care of you. You’re safe now. You don’t have to live on the streets anymore. You don’t have to worry about another villain finding you. I’m going to protect you and show you why I fight against the Hero Agency. Then, once you’ve healed and understand everything, I’m going to ask you to join me.”

Hero gasped, causing them to cough a deep rasping cough that had Villain slipping gentle hands under their back to support them through it. “Relax. I’m not asking you yet, and you do have a choice when the time comes. For now, the main thing you need to do is sleep. Sleep and heal until you’re yourself again.”

#whump fic #whump #whump scenario #whump writing #whump ideas #whump tropes #hero #rescue #villain #villain x hero #medic #hospital #unconscious #neglect #injured

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robertseanleonardthinker · 2 months

Text

HOUSE OC MOMENT!!!!!

me making my first oc in years at 1:30 am

name: domingo estrada

age: 25 (january 18th)

race: latino (guatemalan)

gender: female to male. he/him. outside of work, his trans identity is very important to him, but it's something he prefers to not bring up in the workplace.

sexuality: uhh.... yes. he prefers to not label it, as he feels it's very fluid. crushes SUPER easy, though. watch out, if you be nice to him, he'll swoon.

physical apperance: tan skin, hazel eyes, long, brown hair with a slight wave to it. he usually wears his hair in a bun. he is man bun supreme. loves having his hair up. he's post top surgery and has been on testosterone for a couple of years. he's a little below average height and has a fairly average build. he likes wearing soft, comfortable clothes (usually in pastel colors, as those are his favorite). he also usually wears slip in shoes with no laces on account of the psych ward.

role at ppth: social worker on the adolescent unit of the psych ward. he's newly graduated and pursuing licensure (licensed clinical social worker). what his job entails is creating treatment and discharge plans, finding placements for those who need them, coordinating appointments, and assessing patients in the emergency room (those who come in for mental health reasons). he tries to spend as much of his free time on the unit to be there for patients. if needed, he'll sit and talk to a kid for hours.

about: domingo is a laid-back person. he's pleasant to be around. he's usually calm and collected and is good under pressure (great trait for a social worker!) he connects well with the teenagers he works with, easily gaining their trust and allowing them to open up. he's a good listener and tends to remember lots of minute details about people. sometimes he freaks people out with that ("how did you even remember that? i mentioned it once!") he is very passionate about his work and would fight endlessly for his patients. he cares deeply about the teens under his care and works tirelessly to make sure they get what they need.

domingo, though good at his work, also tends to be a bit absent-minded and forgetful. he has adhd and has yet to find a medication that works for him. his phone is full of endless reminders and there's random post-it notes all over his office. if he isn't moving, he feels like he'll explode. something the teens he works with enjoy is that he's always got a fidget and a pack of gum on him. something that helps him the most is using an oral fidget, though he doesn't like to use them in front of his coworkers. outside of his office, he chews gum.... or less preferable, his nails. a habit he's had since childhood.

domingo also has dyslexia. he has learned ways that help him with reading, but still struggles. though he's spent years in therapy working to decrease his shame, it's still something he occasionally feels embarrassment about. he has excellent listening and speaking skills, it's just reading and writing he has a hard time with. he uses a screen reader on his computer most of the time.

backstory: domingo is a twin. him and his sister (teresa) were born to a mother struggling with drug addiction. once she discovered she was pregnant, she tried her best to quit. she was sober for pretty much the entire pregnancy, and a few months after that. however, she fell deep into postpartum depression and turned back to drugs. at first, she hid it. she hid it well. her boyfriend, their father, didn't know until he came home early from work one day and walked in on her popping a pill. he tried to be supportive, but he was so angry at her. he tried his best to help her, but she didn't want it. she was deep into her addiction. one night, he had enough. he gave her an ultimatum. get clean, or he leaves. he gave her a month. she tried her best, not wanting her children to lose their father, but she couldn't do it. addiction had dug its claws too deep into her. she couldn't do it alone. he left her like he said he would. of course, this loss only drove her deeper into her illness.

it wasn't until 4th grade that someone finally realized what was going on in their home. a teacher called cps, but they did nothing. cps would be called over a dozen more times, yet nothing would be done. they remained in that house until they were adults. this is what inspired domingo to pursue social work. social workers had failed him. he didn't want other children to go through that.

his sister also fell into drugs in high school. she spiraled and spiraled for years until she overdosed one night. this was after she graduated. she was supporting herself as best she could. she was taken to the emergency room, where they managed to save her. that was what she needed. she didn't want to be like their mother. she decided to go to rehab, and committed herself fully to recovery. she's had a couple slips along the way, but has gotten fully sober and now lives a wonderful life. she works at a community outreach center as a peer support specialist and advocates for harm reduction.

in the past couple years, his mother finally began getting sober. she committed once more to recovery, and so far, it has stuck. domingo and teresa have a lot of feelings about it. of course, they're proud of her. they're happy to have their mother again. but also... why couldn't she have been there when they were younger? why did it have to be now? that they were both on their own? domingo struggles heavily with this outside of work.

uhh anyways..... that's all for now :3 i'll write more + make him a blog tomorrow.

#idk how ppl will feel abt the name so i wanna say #i knew someone named domingo and ppl said their mom was stupid for naming them that #but i fucking love the name!!!!#domingo is a lovely name #n e ways #here he is. the boy.#i am so eepy #i need to go to sleep #im gonna post this and pass out and deal with the aftermath later. i am scared #do not be mean to me i will explode #house md #house md oc #oc #original character #house md original character #domingo estrada

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lizzyscribbles · 16 days

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An Exercise in Futility (Part 2)

Not entire sure where I plan to go with this, but the pen calls to me and who am I to deny her?

(Part One)

Some days Yoichi felt good enough to take the stairs, but unfortunately the awkward shuffling alone was already proving too much. After the second time around, he’d been forced to plop down in one of the puffy, plastic chairs and catch his breath. In his mind, he could hear his brother scolding him for pushing himself, but he knew his struggles probably had more to do with the fact he’d neglected his morning medications and therapies. Soft coughs rocked his chest, and with a trembling hand he reached up to rub it.

To be fair, he had fully intended on continuing any prescribed treatments at home when he’d started skipping appointments–it was one of the only ways he could convince himself to go through with the lies–but after a few weeks the piles of pills and heavy masks had seemed less and less appealing.

So he’d just…stopped.

Thankfully, his brother hadn’t seemed to notice yet. The last thing he wanted was another freak out and hospital stay like he’d had earlier in the year. The scars on his chest still ached whenever he thought of the incident, urging him to rub over the freshly healed marks. Hisashi hated that particular habit of his, resorting to physically pulling his hand away whenever he did it within view of the other. Yoichi was never sure why the scars seemed to bother Hisashi more than they did him, but he’d stopped wearing the low cut, loose shirts he’d favored after he caught his brother staring at the thin, white marks with that look on his face one too many times.

Yoichi didn’t remember much of the most recent scare. He’d been in bed when it’d started, chest aching as it often did, and he’d gotten up to get some water. The next thing he knew, the toilet was painted a deep shade of red and Hisashi was at his side, gripping him like if he let him go he’d just disappear as he screamed through the manor. The rest of it was a blur, but the several months he’d spent in the hospital afterwards were burned into his mind forevermore. The wailing machines, the constant surveillance, and the lack of freedom to when pee by himself made him shutter more than the pain ever did.

He’d never say it to anyone out loud–least of all Hisashi–but after the last incident, he’d told himself that if it were to happen again he’d just let himself go.

Yoichi didn’t want to die, per say, but he didn’t want to live either, especially not like that.

Being sick was exhausting.

His watch buzzed, drawing him from his thoughts. Lifting it, he found Hisashi’s name displayed across its face.

The car is waiting outside when you’re done, don’t forget to have the receptionist give you a copy of the notes from today.

Yoichi smiled wryly, sending a little thumbs up and an “almost done!” for good measure. He sat for another minute or two before easing himself up from the chair and shuffling over to where his favorite nurse, Helga, sat behind her station. She smiled as he approached, grabbing a pen out of its holder, an appointment card at the ready. He smiled back, giving a half-hearted wave.

“How’s my favorite nurse today?” He rasped, leaning against the edge of the station for support.

Helga giggled. For a seasoned nurse well into her career, she had the laugh of a middle-schooler who’d been approached by her crush. “Yoichi, baby! It’s good to see you! How’re you feelin’? Your appointment go okay? You here for my autograph again?”

“Sure am,” he quipped, “got the pen ready for me?”

She nodded, “you know I do. Whatcha got for me today?”

“November 18th, at 2PM.” He replied easily.

“You got it.” She was already neatly transcribing the information onto the little piece of cardstock. “I keep telling you the lovely lads and ladies over in Dr. Millard’s office would be happy to write this down for you, baby, you just gotta ask when you make the appointment.”

“Sure, if I actually made an appointment, I’m sure they would.” He thought to himself, instead choosing to say. “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have a reason to come see you, would I?”

“You don’t need a reason to see me, baby, you know that! I’m always happy to say hello to my favorite patient.” She hummed, neatly signing the bottom of the card with a little flourish and a smiley face. “But there you go, I’ll see you in two weeks, okay? Oh, well, hm, no maybe I won’t…”

Yoichi’s heart jumped a little, but he swallowed his panic and smiled. “Oh? Why not?”

“My actual baby is getting married! We’re traveling up north for the wedding, so I’ll be out for a few weeks, but like I said, everyone else would be more than happy to help you!”

Yoichi nodded, pulling his lips into a little smile as he resisted the urge to sigh. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Helga left for good. There was only so long he could use the “I lost my reminder card” excuse with the other staff. Eventually, someone would look him up in the system and realize that his last actual appointment was six months ago and he’d canceled every single one since. Then they’d call Hisashi, since his older brother was technically his legal guardian, and all hell would break loose.

Yoichi couldn’t risk that, he was already pretty sure his brother was starting to suspect something–Hisashi always had been frustratingly good at reading him–so Yoichi had to make sure he had no reason to do so. Next time he’d have to bite the bullet and actually schedule a real appointment, then cancel it as soon as he’d opened the reminder text in view of his brother. That was usually enough to quell any suspicions Hisashi had.

He thanked Helga, wishing her the best and congratulating her on her kid’s marriage before making his way down to the ground floor and out the door.

#yoichi shigaraki #all for one #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #mha #mha spoilers #mha manga spoilers #bnha spoilers #writing

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footprintsinthesxnd · 9 months

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Empty Chairs At Empty Tables

So this is inspired by the song for my favourite musical Les Misérables ‘Empty Chairs At Empty Tables’ where the character Marius sings about loosing his friends during the French Revolution. I feel that this song fits a lot of characters from the HBO war fandom but I was just drawn to writing this fic for Eugene Sledge. Warnings: themes of war, loss, grief, death, death of a beloved pet, PTSD

Thank you so much @georgieluz for proofreading it.

Deacon watched the couple, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as sat with a lopsided grin. Eugene never saw him move but every time he turned around he was right in his heels. Eugene reached down to scratch his dog's head affectionately, watching as he smiled up at him.

“The way he looks at you, sometimes I wonder whether he’s the love of your life instead,” Y/n joked, laughing as Eugene stuck out his tongue at them.

“You’re just jealous that he got the last sandwich.”

“Not at all, you know I’d do anything for him,” Y/n began scratching Deacon’s arm which caused the dog to flop down onto their lap.

“Which is exactly why I’m not worried about leaving you with him. I know you’ll both look out for each other,” Eugene sat down, a solemn look on his face.

“We’re gonna be just fine, right Deacon? Your Dad has nothing to worry about,” Y/n spoke to the dog and Eugene felt his heart swell for the hundredth time that day as he realised just how much he loved them.

“Gene, please don’t be sad,” Y/n reached over, cupping his cheek. “We’re going to be just fine.”

“I know,” Eugene mumbled, his lip wobbling as the tears began trickling down his cheeks. “I just don’t want to leave you.”

“I don’t want you to leave either, but I know you have to. It doesn’t make it any easier though,” they admitted, running their fingers through his red locks.

“I love you, Eugene Sledge. Come back to me.”

“I promise.”

To my dearest Y/n,

How I wish I was at home with you. I want nothing more than to be back in that field, on the red-checked picnic blanket with you and Deacon. Those days were so simple. If only all of life could be that simple.

Today I saw a man have his whole leg blown off and he just stood there looking at us, it was as if he didn’t realise what had happened to him until the medics were trying to get him on a stretcher. How does that even happen?

I hope everything at home is going well. Thank you for visiting my parents, it means a lot to them when you visit and Deacon always loves your visits, he tells me so personally. I wish I was there with you. All I want is a hug. It seems silly really, childish even, but to just have your arms around me, even for a second would be enough.

I love you always my darling,

Your Eugene

————————————————————————

My Eugene,

I’m sure by now you have received the news of Deacon’s passing from your parents. I am so sorry, my love. Just know that he did not suffer. His old body carried him well right until the end and I spent the last three days and nights of his life by his side. We sat out under the apple trees and I read to him just like you used to. He was comfortable when he passed. The house is quieter without him. Now that I am without either of you I do feel truly alone, not even Sidney is here to support me.

I pray every night for your safe return to me my love.

I love you forever and always

Your Y/n

Eugene felt his legs shaking as he stepped off the train onto the platform, his hands shaking as he held onto his kit bag tightly. He could see Sidney, leaning against his truck, a cigarette hanging limply from his lips. It was the reunion he was excited for but not the one he had been yearning for. Sid talked all the way back to his house, talking of his fiancée, life since he’d been home, and his family but Eugene barely registered any of it, his mind too preoccupied with the image of Y/n.

“Drop me here, Sid,” Eugene spoke up as the view of the driveway came into sight.

“You sure, I can drive you up to the house?”

“No, it’s okay. I need the walk. I’ve been stuck on the train for hours.”

Sidney pulled up to the end of the driveway, cutting the engine.

“It’s good to have you back, Gene.”

“It’s good to be back. Thanks for the ride, Sid.”

Eugene slung his kit bag over his shoulder, leaving Sid behind him as his legs carried him up the driveway in long strides. As he approached the house he could see them, arranging one of the flower baskets by the front door, their sleeves rolled up and looking just as lovely as the day he’d left. Eugene felt his heart swell at the sight of them and he promised he would tell them every day.

He dropped his kit bag in the lawn chair, approaching them slowly so as to not disturb them.

“Y/n?” He spoke, his hands shaking a little at his sides.

Y/n dropped the flower basket, oblivious to the terracotta shattering across the decking.

“Eugene?” They squeaked, their hands coming to their mouth. “Is it really you? Are you really here?” Y/n stepped down off the decking, moving to stand in front of him. Their hand reached up to cup his cheek, Y/n’s fingers grazing at the soft flesh and Eugene sighed.

“It really is you,” they whispered, tears trailing down their cheeks to match Euegne’s.

“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

“It's so quiet, isn't it?” Euegen turned his head to look down at Y/n, as they smiled sympathetically at him.

“You'll get used to the peace again, my love. I promise.”

“It’s not that,” Eugene sighed, shifting to sit up on his elbows, “Deacon always used to snore on the end of the bed. He was so noisy when he slept.”

Eugene could feel the tears starting to trail down his cheeks being brushed away and a chaste kiss placed on his lips. “I miss him every day,” Eugene cried, a sob escaping from his lips as he was enveloped in Y/n’s embrace.

“It’s okay, Gene. We’re going to get through this together.”

“NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. YOU WEREN'T THERE!” Gene screamed, throwing another vase across the room and watching as it smashed on the floor, glass shattering like icicles across the hardwood floorboards and the flowers cascading amongst the disarray.

“I know I wasn’t there for you then, Eugene but I’m here now and I am never leaving your side,” Y/n cried, “So don’t keep trying to push me away because I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you have no idea. They’re all dead, they’re all gone and I came back. Why did I deserve to come back? There are houses all around the world with empty chairs where they should be sitting right now,” Eugene slipped down onto the floor beside the smashed vase, his head hanging low as he sobbed.

Y/n couldn’t take it anymore and was by his side in an instant, cradling him close, comforting him. “Shh Eugene, please don’t talk like this. I need you. Your family needs you. I am so glad you came home.”

“But why did I deserve to come home and they didn’t,” Eugene glanced up at them, his large tearful eyes breaking their heart further.

“Because I love you, that's why. Because it wasn’t your time and quite possible because you deserved to come home.”

“And they didn’t.”

“No. You all deserved to come home. What you must do now is decide what you want to do with your second chance. You were given a chance to come home and you must live each day to the fullest for all of those who didn’t make it home. Okay?” Y/n looked down at him and Eugene nodded, resting his head against their chest. Y/n reached down, cradling their fingers through his ginger hair, soft, soothing strokes. Eugene’s breathing soon settled into a more normal rhythm as Y/n heartbeat calmed him.

“I’m glad I came home,” Eugene whispered, “because I have a very important question to ask you.”

“You do,” Y/n replied, looking down at the man they loved.

“Will you stay with me? Always?”

“Of course I will Gene. I’m not going anywhere.” The couple sat on the floor of Eugene’s room, no longer aware of the time or space around them. The only thing that mattered right now was that Eugene was home, and he was safe and with time he would heal from the horrors he had seen.

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @lena-basilone @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines @whollyjoly @bucky32557038ww2 @panzershrike-pretz @malarkgirlypop @hanniewinnix @inglourious-imagines @l13bg0tt @samwinchesterslostshoe

#eugene sledge #the Pacific #eugene sledge x reader #hbowar #empty chairs at empty tables

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andreafmn · 2 years

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12 Days of Ficmas - Day 7

Prompt (by @12-days-of-ficmas): anonymous donor pays for the kids at your nonprofit to have a perfect christmas wait this handwriting looks familiar

Word Count: 2.2K

Story Description: (Y/N) has always worked tirelessly for the Heaven's Care Foundation to provide orphaned children and at-risk youth with a safe place to be. But working in a nonprofit is hard, and trying to give hundreds of children a Christmas to remember even more. Unless an anonymous donor changes everything.

Fandom: Twilight

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x Female!Reader

A/N: i may or may not be working on another part for this fic, be on the lookout 🫣 and to any of my Speak fans, I will be updating sooon 😬

Follow 😊 -> TikTok • Instagram • Business

If you’d like to be tagged in 12 days of ficmas, let me know in the comments.

For any other story: click here

Here’s the 12 days of Ficmas schedule: click me

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Christmas Miracles Come in Attractive Packages

Working at a nonprofit was hard enough. Working at a nonprofit for kids during Christmas was close to impossible. Especially when the organization couldn’t provide to give them a proper celebration.

(Y/N) was doing all she could to give them a good Christmas day, filled with presents, good food, fun, and games. But there simply wasn’t enough to give them that. Sure there had been some monetary donations, some toys, and food too, but nowhere near enough to provide for every one of them.

She canvassed, she petitioned, and she even put some of her own money. But it wasn’t near enough. It was never near enough when unforeseeable things always seemed to happen, one right after the other. Still, she didn’t give up. There was no way she could.

That day she was out leaving flyers in hospitals, local cafes, and any place that would take a piece of paper. If more people knew of the foundation, maybe then she could have a miracle — the kids could have their miracle.

“Hi there! My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I work with the Heaven’s Care Foundation,” she told the nurse at the front desk of the Cayuga Medical Center. “I was wondering if I could leave some flyers here. We are trying to give the kids an unforgettable Christmas and need all types of donations. So we’re hoping to appeal to the hearts of everyone in Ithaca to hopefully be able to give them that.”

“Well then, go ahead, honey,” the nurse smiled. “There are bulletin boards on every floor and you can leave some on each nurse’s desk.”

She took some flyers from the box she was holding and put them on the counter. “Thank you so much,” she said. “I’ll leave these here then.”

“Alright, honey, I’ll let the other floors know you’re going up,” the woman smiled once again. “Good luck and Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

(Y/N) took the box back into her hands and headed for the elevators. The hospital was rather empty, only the night shift staff left roaming the hallways and a few patient companions. She had spent the whole day driving around the area, stopping at any place that looked even the least bit crowded.

As she rounded the corner into the elevator area, she collided with someone, sending the box of papers flying through the air and onto the floor. It was a mess of papers and folders. And (Y/N) couldn’t help the embarrassment that washed over her.

“I’m so sorry,” she said as she scrambled to gather the flyers closest to her. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“I am the one who should be apologizing,” a melodious voice responded. Somehow the owner of that voice was able to pick up every piece of paper that had flown away in the area. “Heaven’s Care Foundation?”

She finally looked up, meeting face-to-face with entrancing golden eyes. They were a quite peculiar amber color and they belonged to a man that was ten times as beautiful as his eyes.

“Uh, yes,” she finally snapped out of her trance. “It’s a nonprofit organization that cares for orphaned and at-risk children, providing them with food, shelter, and education. We’re currently asking for donations to give the kids a special Christmas. Although we still have our charity gala to go, we want to raise enough to also be able to provide the kids with better accommodations, learning supplies, and all that.”

“It sounds like quite an outstanding organization,” he smiled before writing something on a piece of paper and handing it to her. “I would love to hear more about it sometime.”

“Of course! That’d be great,” (Y/N) responded excitedly. They both started to walk away before she turned abruptly. “Uh, I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“Carlisle Cullen,” he responded warmly. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N). I look forward to that call.”

“Likewise.”

After delivering the rest of the papers she had with her, she went home. As she lay in bed, thinking of other ways she could raise money for the foundation, pictures of Carlisle snuck into her head. He was an intriguing sight to behold. With his perfect blond hair, his honey-colored eyes, and his smooth and pale skin. But it wasn’t just his beauty that had piqued her interest.

There was something in the way he spoke, in the way he looked at her, how attentive he had been when she spoke to him. She looked at the paper he had given her with his name and phone number and studied the fine penmanship. It was as beautiful as he was, she thought.

“Who are you, Carlisle Cullen?”

As the morning light started to creep through the horizon two days later, (Y/N) was already on her way in to work. With a tray filled with coffee and a smile on her face, she entered the rehabilitated high school they had turned into the headquarters and living facilities of the organization.

She had been one of the founding members, giving almost all of her college savings to renovate the place. (Y/N) had always wanted to provide a place for children that had no other place to go where they felt safe, accepted, and cared for. And for the past ten years, she had been doing just that – with barely any money.

“Good morning, Maggie,” she smiled at the foundation’s receptionist, placing a coffee cup on her desk. “How have we done this past week?”

“Well, it’s been better than the last one,” she tried to sound hopeful. “But at the pace we’re going we’re gonna have enough for the bathroom repairs and the ceiling leaks. As for the Christmas party, it’s not looking too good.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to have some faith,” (Y/N) sighed, but tried to keep the smile on her face. “We still have the gala at the end of the week, so hopefully many rich people are feeling guilty for something this Christmas season.”

“That would require them to actually feel guilt,” Maggie chuckled. “But you’re right. We have to keep a good attitude about it. Anything can change in even just a couple of hours.”

(Y/N) went on with her day. She checked on the kids, and made necessary purchases to replenish food inventory, cleaning supplies, or any requests the kids or staff had made. Her day was so booked she barely had any time to eat her lunch. She had been stuck in her office with limited interactions, glued to her phone and her computer.

It was getting late at the point she finally decided to call it a day. The sun had gone down by then, the bustle of the still roaring and alive outside. She was finishing closing up her office when suddenly Maggie came in running, cheering excitedly.

“Mags, calm down,” (Y/N) laughed. “What’s got you all excited? Are you and Lila finally engaged?”

“Better than that.”

“What could be better than getting engaged to your girlfriend of six years?”

“We just received the most sizeable donation in our history,” she said. “It’s for ten million dollars, (Y/N).”

“You’re joking, right? It has to be a joke.”

“I can promise you it is not. I even called the bank. And even though they wouldn’t give me the person’s identity, they confirmed it was a real check,” she recalled joyfully. “(Y/N), this piece of paper means we can give the kids the Christmas many of them have never had and we can start on the repairs ahead of schedule.”

“And this is without what we will raise during the charity gala!” (Y/N) could not believe her eyes as she saw the amount of zeros after the ten written on the blue paper. “It’s our very own Christmas miracle.”

“It truly is, (Y/N). Whoever this person is, may their blessings be multiplied.”

“I’ll go to the bank early tomorrow morning and deposit this as soon as they open. I’ll call you when I’m done and I want you to start ordering what we’ll need for the party. Also, call up the maintenance company so we can start getting quotes for the repairs. This needs to be unforgettable for these kids. They deserve it.”

“They really do,” Maggie smiled.

That night when she got home, she studied the check. There was something familiar about the writing. It was an exact replica of the writing she had been studying the past two nights. (Y/N) knew exactly who the anonymous donor had been and she was already thinking of how she could thank him.

***

It was the end of the week and the gala was well underway at The Oncenter Complex. (Y/N) was surprised at the turnout. Sure, she was expecting a good enough number of guests but not to the amount that had RSVP’d during the week. It seemed like their organization had grown overnight.

But she had her suspicions on just who was responsible for the sudden increase in attention.

She gallivanted around the room, shaking hands with powerful and rich people, making herself and her name known amongst them. These were the people that could elevate the foundation to national standing, helping millions of children in need.

As her red dress swayed across the floor, her eyes fell upon the figure of the man she had been waiting the whole night for. Dressed in an outstanding white suit, Carlisle Cullen stood in the back of the room, nursing a glass of whiskey in his hand. Even if other guests were dressed in similar apparel, the man simply stood out amongst them.

She headed toward him, heat rushing to her face – and to her lower regions. He looked more handsome than the night she had met him. His hair was brushed back, his white suit perfectly form-fitting, and his golden eyes the perfect accessory to his ensemble.

“I’m glad you came, Carlisle,” (Y/N) announced herself with a bright smile on her face. “I’ve actually been looking forward to seeing you face-to-face once more. I’m…”

“(Y/N). I know,” he responded with a smile just as bright. “We met the other night and you brought this amazing foundation to my attention.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” she chuckled. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I have you to thank for this surge of support as well as that anonymous ten-million-dollar donation.”

“How did you know?”

“You’ve just confirmed it. Truly, the lettering on the check was exactly like the one from the note you gave me. And someone that has that kind of money has influence and connections. I’m seeing them in play right now.”

“You are quite an insightful woman, (Y/N),” he grinned. “I simply made some calls to friends I believed would also admire the work you’re doing with Heaven’s Care. It’s completely on them how they wanted to help.”

“Well, I still have to thank you for your donation. You’re going to make hundreds of kids very happy this Christmas.” She smiled warmly at him, not being able to help herself from staring at those amber eyes. “Many of those children have never had a proper Christmas, let alone a safe and happy place to live in. You’re making that happen for them. I don’t know how I could ever thank you for this. You have changed many lives.”

"I’m only doing my part to give back to the community. At some point in time, someone changed my life too. Everyone deserves that chance, (Y/N). Especially children.”

“Your wife must be very proud of you.” She tested the waters. There was a ring on his finger, but it wasn’t exactly a traditional wedding ring. He wore a silver ring on his left hand, an interesting crest on it.

“I’m not married,” he chuckled. Carlisle followed (Y/N)’s eyeline and noticed her staring at her ring. “This is an heirloom ring. It has my family crest on it. Although, your partner should be proud of all the work you’ve been doing here. It truly is impressive.”

“I, uh, I’m single,” she grinned.

Before she could continue, Maggie came up from behind her. “(Y/N), it’s time for your speech,” she said. “Sorry to steal her away.”

“No worries,” Carlisle smiled. “Go ahead.”

“Give me a sec, Mags.” She left her friend and her colleague for a second and turned back to Carlisle. “Don’t leave, please. Find me after everything’s done. Okay?”

“Of course. I’ll be here.”

(Y/N) joined Maggie once more, her face growing red with warmth. Both women giggled at the situation and turned every few seconds to look back at the striking man that had gained (Y/N)’s full attention.

“Who is that Greek statue of a man, (Y/N)? A new suitor?”

“He’s the man who donated the money to the foundation and got all these people here.”

“What?” Maggie exclaimed. “Who is he?”

“That’s what I intend to find out, Mags. He just might turn into my Christmas present.”

And she had no idea just how right she was about it.

Part 2 (SMUT) ->

Taglist: @agent-annana @banterbanner @alitav99 @daniallh @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @imaginetwilight2704 @mauvette268 @beefwhobarksandisalilmadalot @abelbai000 @ridiculous-creature @mikariell95 @gryffi-ndor @jules-bea2308 @comic-book-overload @winter-soldier-101 @jessicasunderground @mxyee @hey-you-therexo @witchy-obeyme-freak @xcastawayherosx @kortniec696 @slutforsainz @Blackbluerose666 @DyslexicCatterpillar @sunflowerleii @gypsymusiclover @byelannie @a-sifu-hotman @zheezs14 @minhaimaginação @bluebirbnamedJay @sirenheadenby @mushroomelephant @swidkid @skyesthebomb @user0ur0mom @nogitsune-the @cometstail @volturiwolf @locokoca @esposadomd @this-is-a-bad-idea @nocturnalherb16 @rosalie-whitlock @Nyctophilia710 @blueshoelaces @ems-alexandra @then-worship-at-my-altar @Six-Call @witchofhawkins @lovel-blog @sugajar @goodpeoplegotohellanyway @Yuki254 @avis15 @honeylovemoon @wonieeee @baebeepeach @catgirlpwr @krazyk99 @klf1999 @sl-ut @adaydreamaway08 @cinffy23 @toomanythoughts33 @sugasthreedollarkookie

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wytchsbrew · 1 year

Text

Vash needed to get fucked.

None of that romantic, sweet, loving bullshit Wolfwood kept talking about, oh, no, Vash wanted to be fucked so hard, he had to walk with a limp for the next three days. He wanted his thighs to hurt, his back to hurt, he wanted to feel lingering traces of Wolfwood every single time he sat down.

Over six weeks had past since he'd been able to jump his husband's bones like that, and the day had finally come when his medical restrictions were lifted - and he'd planned the entire evening meticulously.

Wolfwood usually came home late in the night on this particular day of the week, spending most of his time working with Melanie at the orphanage, so Vash had the house to himself to prepare.

He asked Milly and Meryl if they wanted to have Livi over for the night, and they happily agreed, so Vash spent a while preparing for that, packing her a bag, making sure she had enough milk for a night away from him, showering her in kisses because he knew he'd miss her to death once she was out of his sight.

But, he needed this. He desperately needed his husband's cock ASAP, before he went insane.

Once the girls came to pick Livi up, he kissed all three girls, sent them on there way, and quickly dressed in the lingerie he'd bought for this exact occasion.

Wolfwood had made it very obvious how obsessed he was with Vash's brand new Post Baby Body, so of course, he had to do something about it. So he bought the lingerie he thought Wolfwood would enjoy the most. It ended up being a black, strappy, lacy pair of panties with a matching bra, and a bright red body harness that strapped around his waist, before strapping around his thighs, and his neck, and framing his body with a multitude of straps.

It almost reminded him of his old, belted outfit, the one that pissed Wolfwood off every time he tried to rid it from Vash's body. He'd love it, he could feel it in his bones. He waited until the moment he knew Wolfwood usually arrived home, and stood in the entryway, waiting for him.

He heard the key.

He heard the heavy footsteps.

He heard Wolfwood's voice as the door opened up in front of him, "My babies, I'm hoooome-"

There was a beat of silence as his husband stepped into view, the front door left wide open behind him. Vash saw the rolled up sleeves of his white button down shirt bulging against his massive arms, the unbuttoned top revealing his muscular, hairy chest, his windswept, dark hair, and very nearly moaned just at the mere sight of him.

"Oh," Wolfwood grinned something bordering on feral. "Forgive me, oh, dutiful Gods, for I am about to commit heinous acts against the Bible."

And, of course, Wolfwood leaped head first, as he always did with any action he took. Like a wildfire, he devoured him. Hands grabbed at his face, rough fingertips stroking along his jawline, and hot lips consumed his mouth, sucking and licking and exploring. Wolfwood's kisses were always soul sucking, until he could only melt in his strong hands holding him together whilst he felt like coming apart at the seams, but this felt even more than ever before.

He heard himself whimpering pathetically, as Wolfwood's experienced tongue lavished his own, twirling around the tip before diving further in. He tasted him, in every sense of the word. Devoured him, until Vash felt desperation in the movements.

And it reminded him of all the times they'd kissed before.

Before domesticity. Before their home. Before marriage. Before Livi.

It was just like their time on the battlefield together. They'd ended up like this so often, tangled desperately in each other's embrace, it became the usual, expected even! Something about the thank God, we're alive. We made it to see another day! feeling, resulted in the same response each and every time. Sexual rushes. Frantic hands. Kisses that tasted like blood.

How long had it been since it felt like this?

Wolfwood broke the kiss, chest heaving, lips glistening, front door still wide open at his back, and his hands fell to Vash's hips. "You look so beautiful," he breathed, his lips motioning softly against his mouth. Their noses touches, Wolfwood's eyes half lidded with a comforting, content aura, but...

Vash slowly shook his head. "Aht, aht, Nicholas. That's not what I want."

Wolfwood looked surprised, pulling back to peer down at him further. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Yes." Vash leaned into his touch, pressing his fuller chest and lacy bra against Wolfwood's pecs. "I don't want you to love me tonight. I don't want you to be romantic, and respect me."

The look of confusion and terror crossing Wolfwood's face almost made him laugh, but he continued, in too deep to back pedal now.

"I want you to fuck me," Vash whispered.

"I mean, yeah, we're gonna get to that-"

"No, no." Vash lifted his finger and pressed it to Wolfwood's lips, silencing him. "I don't think you understand what I'm saying. I want to feel you when I sit down tomorrow."

Wolfwood swallowed hard, throat bobbing with the effort, and Vash watched him intently.

"I want my legs to tremble when I stand up after you're finished with me," Vash whispered, and that was it.

That was the final straw. He actively watched the restraints snap audibly deep within Wolfwood, and the flood gates opened. Every bit of that six week aching and yearning they'd experienced in the walls of their own home came collapsing out of him in such a rush, Vash gasped as his husband advanced on him.

Strong hands still on his hips shoved him backwards against their entryway wall, and grabbed one of his milky thighs, lifting his leg and draping his inner knee into the crook of Wolfwood's elbow. Deft fingers reached down and shoved aside the thin black lace of his panties. With a furrowed brow of apparent concentration, he shoved two fingers deep into Vash's pussy.

A high pitched preen escaped his throat as he tossed his head back, letting it thump hard against the door. He was already wet, of course, but it felt so great to have something buried into him at long last, it took his breath away and stripped him bare, and dear God, the immediate roughness of it, the no hesitation, had Vash chomping at the bit.

He wanted it harder than ever before.

Wolfwood gave it to him, pounding his fingers into him, twisting, curling, in such a hurry, all Vash could do was grip toned biceps and try not to scream out of pure ecstasy, because their front door still sat ajar just feet from where they stood.

They'd been mutually masturbating around every day for the last week, but this felt better, so much better, because he knew...

Vash knew...

He was finally going to get fucked.

The thought made him moan desperately over the sound of Wolfwood's wet fingers messily pounding into him, his skilled efforts doing their job - the initial tightness was beginning to subside already, far too fast, leaving him feeling empty and desperate and hungry for more. Shifting his weight, using his hands as leverage on Wolfwood's arms, he shoved himself further down, making Wolfwood's fingers into that much deeper.

Still not enough. So close to touched what he wanted.

Wolfwood growled, low and deep, and shoved a third finger inside. This sparked up another round of good, so good feelings, and that struck his core so hard, he felt the beginning warmth of his orgasm building already.

"Ah, enough, Nick," he gasped.

Concern etching across his husband's brow, he whispered, "You sure?"

He'd never been more sure in his entire life.

Instead of answering with words, he captured Wolfwood's lips hotly, fingertips pressing deep into his husband's muscles. Wolfwood hummed in his mouth, carefully removing his fingers, and kissing him back with everything he had. He plunged his tongue into his mouth, pressing him completely against the wall so he couldn't move, completely at his mercy.

He wasn't sure how long they kissed, just exploring, softly, then harder, fingers touching every inch of exposed skin. Tasting and tongues and soft moans of encouragement, but by the time Wolfwood finally pulled away, Vash was panting, he felt his pussy dripping wetly with need, drooling between his thighs and slicking down his skin.

"My beautiful Vash," Wolfwood whispered, bringing him back down to reality. He deadlifted Vash off the ground with just his hands on his ass - he shoved him against the wall against, harsh, and Vash wrapped his arms around his neck, scrambling for purchase.

He had but a moment of preparation.

A moment of consideration, as Wolfwood made quick work of unsnapping his pants and pulling out his cock.

A second to catch his breath, as he listened to the sounds of his husband hissing at the feeling of his hand on his erection.

Before Wolfwood allowed his restraints to snap again, just the way he liked, and shoved his cock wetly into Vash's pliant and waiting body in one smooth, practiced movement, until he was buried clean to the hilt. Vash's vision whited out, static filled his ears, and it took him several hard, pounding beats before he realized the sound of the long, effervescent cries were not coming from outside their open door, but actually coming from his own mouth, and he couldn't bite them down, couldn't silence himself, because finally...

Finally...

He had Wolfwood's dick back inside him, and it was huge. Impossibly thick. He relished the steady burn, the aching, familiar pain, as he stretched and adjusted, his body hungrily twitching around the cock. Back pressed flat against the wall, his entire body flushed with heat, his throat ached from the severity at which he wanted to scream from being so full and complete, at long last.

It still didn't really hit him the severity of his own actions, until he felt Wolfwood's hand leave his thigh, and fingers grab at the lace of his panties. With one strong pull, they snapped clean off Vash's hips, nothing more than thin fabric left in his husband's hands.

"Open up."

Wolfwood held up the wet, torn panties. Vash's lips parted enough to Wolfwood to shove them into his mouth and against his tongue.

"'kay, close."

He followed instructions easily.

"Good boy," Wolfwood whispered, brushing the shell of his ear. "Now, keep quiet. Our neighbors don't need to know how good I'm about to fuck you."

Vash whimpered.

That tantalizing mouth quirked off to one side, familiar, crooked. A bolt of lightning exploding his entire world. It reminded him of the first day they met, somehow.

He'd been screwed from the first second he saw him smirk.

Wolfwood pulled out and thrust back in with all his strength, setting a hard, punishing pace as his arm muscles strained with the effort of holding Vash up.

He hadn't been fucked in six weeks, so his girth and length were stretching him to his limit, to the edge of painful, he wanted to cry, while he simultaneously wanted more, and more, harder and harder. Though the stretch of six weeks was not that long at all, it felt like so long since he'd been fucked, stretched, and had every good spot rammed into with the strength of a man who'd undergone experiments to be a beast of a killer.

Regular men would just never do the job for him.

All Vash could do was grip desperately to sweat damp biceps as Wolfwood fucked into him, relentless and vicious, unrestrained, with that salacious inhuman strength. Wolfwood shoved his face into his neck, mouthing at his pounding jugular, and effectively pressing their bodies even closer together.

Pleasure mixed with the sluggish pain, and Vash scraped his nails across Wolfwood's clothed back, desperate. He opened his mouth and spat his panties out. "Harder," he begged.

"Fuck, y' sure."

He nodded rapidly, and Wolfwood moved back a little, lifting Vash higher with just his strong arms, and shoved back in. This new angle allowed his cock to bury deep inside him, striking spots that made Vash's vision go white again, and also allowed him to pull all the way out before shoving back in with a roll of his hips.

The long pull and slide of that cock, the wet cacophony, made Vash desperately reach for his own dick with sweaty hands. Finally, closing his fingers around his hot, aching clit, he preened loudly, crying Wolfwood's name in desperation.

This made Wolfwood thrust even harder and faster, his movements turning sloppy in their frantic nature.

The wall shook and hanging pictures rattled in their frames behind him with Wolfwood's new vigor. Fear and panic clawed its way up the back of throat, envisioning the wall of their neighbor's house shaking and things falling from it, until they came to check on them, and the entire, sweet little family next door walking in to see him being railed until he cried. He gasped and sobbed, "Nick - Nick, the neighbors - the wall-"

He understood, thankfully, and lifted him away from the wall, still buried deep inside him. They stumbled across the entryway and into the living room, until he was dumped him on the back edge of their couch. Without a second of downtime, Wolfwood shoved both his legs back as far as they would go, until they nearly touched the his chest, leaving him completely open and exposed.

Wolfwood licked his lips, gaze flitting down to where they met hungrily, and rolled his hips with practiced smoothness, burying himself until skin met skin. His deep, resulting moan sounded so insanely hot, it flew all over Vash in a blanket of lust, and he found his gaze taking in the beautiful man towering over him. Sweat clung to the fabric of his button up, plastering it to his muscular chest; his muscles strained in his arms, shaking and trembling.

The dim light from the only lamp in the room cast him in golden light, the fine lines of his face, the sharp strength of his jaw, and steady determination in his brow. The adoration in his gaze as he watched them fuck, up close and personal, unlike anything he had seen before, from anyone else. Before they ended up like this married, back when they both drowned in a sea of blood, he'd seen that same look every once in a while across Wolfwood's face during their times together, but he'd never known a name for it.

Now he did.

Love.

Heat spread across Vash's chest and ears, and he flung his hand at his clit again, quickly working it in fast circles. "Nick," he choked out.

"Hmmm?" came the distracted response, snapping his hips harshly forward again. It knocked the breath out of Vash's lungs, but he managed to gasp out, "I love you."

The thrusts paused and Vash could have sworn he heard Wolfwood suck in a sharp, surprised breath, despite how many times they'd said it since their first confessions. His gaze snapped away from his dick and met Vash's own, fiery and heated and completely different than they were just moments before - and his own hand moved faster along his clit, so swept away in the attractiveness of that feral look.

"Yeah," Wolfwood blew out a long breath. "Yeah, fuck, I love you, too."

Leaning forward, nearly bending Vash in half, he fucked into him at such a renewed pace, his orgasm splashed over him in a heady rush before he realized what was happening - Vash's pussy twitched and exploded in a pulsating, sharp orgasm that shook through him. His back arched and he cried out, but Wolfwood slapped a hand over his mouth before he got too loud, holding him down, fucking him through it so hard, the couch scraped and scrubbed and screeched across their wood floor.

Oversensitive, all Vash could do was huff and puff and drool against Wolfwood's hot palm, as he was held down and treated like a piece of meat, letting the love of his life chase his completion inside him rougher than they'd ever gone before.

Just when Vash's fingertips started going numb and he felt lightheaded, Wolfwood swore loudly and buried himself completely inside as he spilled his seed. The orgasm felt strong and it wracked through the body above him with shudders and shivers, filling him, claiming him, owning him. Breathless, Wolfwood released his hold on Vash and collapsed to his knees on the floor, cock slipping wetly from him. He pressed his forehead, hot and drenched in sweat, against Vash's thigh.

Vash, though, could only stare at the ceiling overhead, chest heaving, white noise roaring in his ears.

Holy shit. Holy fuck. They'd definitely never had sex like that in a very long time. That desperate and rough and frantic, it was glorious, everything he'd been dreaming about. Hot damn.

Wolfwood, though, always recovered first from their stints now, his stamina knowing no bounds. He slowly rose to his knees and yanked his own shirt off, the movement of which made Vash, precariously dangling on the edge of their catch, move to watch him better. He tossed his shirt over his shoulder.

Once finished, with gentle and soft hands, he lifted Vash from the edge of the couch and pulled him down to the floor with him, gathering him into his lap so Vash straddled him, shaking thighs pressing on either side of his now soaking wet crotch.

Wolfwood's hands began wandering, one rubbing soft circles along his lower back, the other coming up to grab at the lacy cups of his bra and shove them down, exposing his breasts to the cool room. That hand curled around one of the milk engorged mounds, flicking his thumb along the nipple.

It was easy to lose himself in the gentle, caring hands of his husband like this, letting him touch and rub whatever he wanted as he basked in the afterglow of his first orgasm of the night - because he knew there would be multiple to come.

Wolfwood leaned forward, closing his lips around Vash's nipple, and suckling needily. Vash hummed, happily, and flung his arms around Wolfwood's neck, leaning into his attention to his breast.

A gentle warmth filled him, and he almost didn't hear Wolfwood speak, until he felt his lips pull away from his chest for a moment.

"Can I tell you something, Vash?"

Vash tilted his head, regarding the man now looking up at him so gently, almost with an air of shyness in the curve of his mouth. "Of course."

"I... I think I fell in love with you all over again tonight," he said, so earnestly, it ached in Vash's heart.

Vash smiled, pressing his lips together. He felt giddy, like the first time they kissed, like the first time they held hands. "Well, I think I fell in love with you again tonight, too."

Wolfwood grinned. "Looks like I'm the luckiest man in the world."

Vash inched forward, closer to him until his face nearly buried between his breasts. "Why's that?"

"Because I got the Vash the Stampede to fall for me twice. Not once, but twice."

Vash smiled, knowing all to himself how many times he'd actually fallen in love with Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Somewhere in the hundreds, he imagined. Every time he saved someone. Every time he laughed with him. Every time he kissed him. The first time he laid eyes on him, and then seeing him as a husband, married, and as a father.

And he imagined he'd be falling in love with him every single day for the rest of his life.

#vashwood #i'm crying over my own writing tonight #this is so good #i'm not playing #woodvash #vw #wv

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faesystem · 1 year

Text

Headcanons/Prompts centred around Mario and Luigi being brothers.

1. In high school Mario got super insecure about his height, so Luigi acquired every single movie with Danny DeVito in it and made him watch it. Then if he ever suspected Mario was being insecure about his height, he would hand him a printed out photo/screenshot of Danny DeVito.

Mario found this so hilarious that it would usually distract him and cheer him up. He also found it so sweet how much effort Luigi put into it.

2. Luigi is chronically ill and disabled (long headcanons of this here) and as a kid and into adulthood Mario was the one who cared for him. Mario got a job in high school to help cover Luigi's medical bills. He spent a lot of time researching to try and figure out the problem when doctors were dismissing Luigi. He made sure Luigi ate three full meals a day and drank enough water. He helped Luigi get outside to get sun and fresh air.

When they finally figured out what exactly Luigi had and began treating it (I personally headcanon POTS and EDS) Mario ensured Luigi followed his treatment plan to a T.

Once Luigi's symtoms were managed quite well, he and Mario had quite a bit of tension of Luigi feeling smothered by Mario and Mario feeling overprotective after so long of caring for him. It caused one of the worst fights they have ever had, which ended with a, "YOU'RE NOT MY MOM!" "MOM WASN'T THE ONE WHO [long rant about all the things he's done for Luigi]." After Mario finished the ranting, they were both just sad about being mad at each other. They communicated about it and got better.

Once they got older, and especially after they became adventures, Luigi took on the role of caring for Mario's wellbeing. He was Mario's player 2 not because he was less skilled or capable, but because he wanted to be. He liked being there for his brother in the way his brother always was for him. He didn't care when people called him 'Green Mario' because there's no one in the world who he would rather be more like.

Although, when he had to fight Mario about taking breaks to eat, he thought it was absolutely karma for the hell he gave Mario when he was nauseous and did not wish to eat.

3. All Mario wants for Luigi is for him to be safe and happy. If he were to, say, get a romantic partner who will keep him safe and happy, values that above any personal hard feelings against the person. I am going to use Bowser as the example partner here, but any work.

A funnier route for this is Mario giving Bowser the biggest death glare possible whenever Luigi is not looking.

A less funny route is Mario bottling up his negative feelings as opposed to processing him, and something happens that shakes him and he pops like a shaken carbonated beverage. (I mean, the illustrative language I have used could also be comedic.)

4. Luigi has very high standards for people Mario date. I feel as though the only person who maybe would meet those standards would be Peach, and that's only because she is good at figuring out how to frame things she's done in a way that matches what people want from her. You know, political leader who has to make hard choices sometimes.

I am not a big DK x Mario shipper, but I will say DK would never meet Luigi's standards in 1000 years. I would say Luigi wouldn't necessarily oppose the relationship (unless you want some good comedy surrounding that) because he wants Mario to be happy and DK makes him happy. However, he thinks Mario could do better.

5. Luigi has bad taste in men. He is absolutely the sort of person to see an aggressive man with no ability to handle his feelings or self control and go, "I could fix him."

Mario always relentlessly bullied him for this. Then he ended up dating DK. Luigi seemingly remembered every single thing he ever said about his taste in men and is just parroting it back to him.

6. Luigi really likes dressing up all fancy, and Mario hates it. Luigi likes their matching outfits, especially likes it for adventures, but also prefers to dress up if going out anywhere. Going to see Peach casually for tea? Going to see a kids film? Going to the store? Dress pants, perfectly polished shoes, and a high quality, well fitting, tastefully coloured and patterned button down.

Mario on the other hand does Not like it. It's uncomfortable. It's expensive and he doesn't want to worry about running it. Usually doesn't fit well on him, and then tailoring is even more expenses. If he is not in their matching outfits, he is in shorts and a t-shirt.

They often go out together to a variety of events, some more formal than others, but at least one of them is always underdressed or (more often) overdressed.

7. The reason Luigi is afraid of animals is because he is afraid of accidentally hurting him. (Polterpup was the perfect dog for him.)

Mario helps his brother do exposure therapy for this fear. Luigi has made a lot of progress. When they were teens Luigi would back up as far as he could from any animals he saw because he was convinced he'd hurt them. Now, he just tends to freeze up and wait to see if he is making the animal uncomfortable by being close.

If you have made it this far, please comment or reblog with more ideas.

#Mod ? (He/Him)#Fandom Subsection #SMB #Super Mario Bros #Mario #Luigi #Prompt #Headcanon #Mario and Luigi #Super Mario Brothers #smb #super mario bros #luigi #mario

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good-beanswrites · 4 months

Note

Just going to drop another idea in the hat. How does Mahiru feel about all that's going on with Fuuta in OoA? (Dunno if she would have visited him alone or with Yuno or Amane. Up to you.)

(Sorry for the mini drabble dump, I hope you enjoy 😅 Thank you for all the reminder asks!! I appreciated it since it took a million years to get to, and sure enough it was super fun to play around with all these ideas >:3)

Ough, on the surface she'd look exactly the same, but I feel like she would have a lot going on. She pities him. She pities herself because of him. She's glad she isn't him. She's jealous of him and Amane. She's toeing the line between her a bad first impression of him and finally seeing his human side. This takes place with enough time after the attacks for the dust to settle, but early enough where everyone's still adjusting.

“Fuuta~ Big sis Mahiru came to check on you! How are you feeling?”

For the entire first trial, Mahiru had constantly given Fuuta advice on his volume and outbursts. She’d scolded him for shouting, for bickering, for butting into conversation that weren’t his business. She’d spent so much time wishing he would just be more quiet.

Now that her wish had finally come true, she would do anything to take it back.

“Mmn.”

The old Fuuta would have launched into detail about how he was feeling – about Milgram’s treatment being unjust and how the other prisoners were annoying him. Now that he was slumped in bed, bandages practically holding him together, all he could muster up was a half-shrug. His eyes had lost their usual shine, hardly looking focused at all.

“If you need some medication, Shidou says he has more ready.”

Fuuta nodded. Mahiru knew what question was coming. It was the same every day.

“Did he offer it to Amane first? How is she?”

“She’s still coming around to it. She’s doing alright. I know you think she’s putting up an act when she visits, but honestly, she tells you more than any of us! I didn’t even know she could talk that much!” With her heart already heavy, it was easy to let the pang of jealousy slip into her mind. She was happy the two of them found each other, but Amane was opening up to him far more than her. Mahiru had done everything she could for her – what did Fuuta have that she was missing?

“Hey, look! I brought you some games. Everyone is requesting more supplies, and Shidou is still working on getting that wheelchair for you. I thought that this is just as important, yeah? I found some games that other prisoners didn’t mind lending. See ~ these cards are from Kazui, and Yuno left her cat’s cradle string, and I think Haruka even left a board game that he liked. I even wrote out the instructions to some word games, since those are my favorites.”

“Eh, I don’t need ‘em.”

She refused to let herself deflate. Instead the smile stayed painted on her face. “I’ll just leave them here, then, if you ever get bored. I’m always up for playing something, but a lot of the games can be done by yourself, too!”

At that, he laughed. It was a terrible, bitter sound. It revealed how wheezy his lungs were from his injuries.

“Oh yeah?” He said through a panting breath. “How am I supposed to play cat’s cradle by myself?” He shifted his left arm, bound up in a sling. “Am I supposed to balance the board games on the bed? With all the fucking pieces falling off?”

Mahiru’s smile wavered. “I only meant –”

“I can’t use my hands.” His voice was defeated. “Can’t get up. My head is killing me. Maybe literally. How am I supposed to play any of these? I know you were just being nice… but don’t bother.”

“I am going to bother.”

“Why…?” He let his eyes slip shut. “It’s not like anyone gave a shit about me before. They only care now because I’m dying. Everyone who knew me before… and even everyone here… they all treated me like crap until I got hurt. Now they’re all falling over themselves for me. It’s pathetic.”

It was a phrase he’d used often enough before, but Mahiru was struck with how differently he spoke it, his voice wavering.

The words “that’s not true” hung on her tongue. But it was, wasn’t it? Her stomach twisted in shame. It was horrible. That couldn’t be it – she must have a good reason to care now. After a second of scrambling, it hit her.

“Well! The thing is… what Kazui was saying about Kotoko’s plan… If I hadn’t been with Yuno… It should have been me, Fuuta. And I need to make it up to you.” She shook her head. Another man’s face flashed in her memory. “It should have been me…”

“Yeah, it should have been.”

The two were silent. She studied his face, but he looked firmly away.

Internally she begged herself to leave it there. To learn her own lesson and be quiet. To bid Fuuta well and walk away from the person who was going to say things that would break her heart. But, as every other time in her life, Mahiru couldn’t control herself.

“I’m so, so sorry.” She clasped her hands together as she bowed. “I feel awful about it. Everytime I see you and Amane… I had been so selfish, going to Yuno to cheer myself up, instead of looking out for the two of you. If I could go back and change everything, I would in a heartbeat. I’m sorry. I know that you must hate me. I hate myself. I’m sorry.”

She thought offering her emotions would help. She thought it would be good for him to hear, since he was asking for a reason and she had such a good one. She gasped, seeing tears slip down Fuuta’s miserable expression.

“What –”

“That’s exactly what I was talking about.” She would have preferred his yelling to this quiet resignation. “You’re not here because you care about me. You’re here because you’re feeling sorry for yourself. I don’t need your pity. Just leave.”

“No, it’s not like that! I wish it hadn’t been you that got hurt and –”

“Yeah I wish it wasn’t me, too.” He finally looked at her. “But I don’t wish it was you. That’s not how this works. Be grateful you made it out, and don’t come wallowing in self-pity to me. From now on, only come in here if you actually want to. Not to boost your own ego.”

Mahiru stood with her mouth agape. She tried to muster up something to say, finally finding it was easier to just stay silent. She turned to the door.

Why, oh why couldn’t she do it right?

#milgram #order of attack #mahiru shiina #fuuta kajiyama #it ends kind of abruptly because if not there i could just keep going and going....#as much as i love mappi shed definitely fuck things up a bit at first while she sorts through her own trauma from the whole situation #but shed do a lot of thinking and come back with more genuine compassion for him and be there for the right reasons #(and maybe confront how she viewed her other relationships in the process)#(but maybe shes not quite ready for that yet)#but i also think it could open up a conversation between her and amane about treating fuuta like some sick baby bird to nurse back to healt #like - mahiru picks up on the vibe of 'hes lost and in pain and i will help him' and realizes she had the same thoughts #and tries to work with amane to treat him the way he really needs #i still have one more drabble and directors commentary in the works but i was picking away at these and had a ton of fun!!#drabbles

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hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall · 1 year

Text

Love isn't something you just learn Commander. Part 2

Pairing: Commander Cody x F!Reader

Words: 14 536 (oopsie)

Warning: Angst, like A LOT OF ANGST, a description of violence, DEATH, a little bit of action, wouldn't call it a smut even. Fluff. Cody being an idiot. ANGST. Bur Fluff as well.

Summary: A lot has happened and Cody realised that maybe things change.

A/N: So it is not editted. I am sorry, maybe I will do it later. I just really wanted to post it :D And I'm not sure I am 100% with the ending. It feels rush. Maybe I will come back one day and re-write. But for now. ENJOY :)

P.S. My Tag List is open to yeah... :D

It was new and scary. The thought itself wasn't really welcoming. You were a stationed medic, not trained to be a field doctor. So when the request came in for you and your team to accompany the Troops on the next mission you weren't sure if that was just some silly mistake.

Of course you were promised to be secured as well as it was possible, but the thought itself wasn't really as welcoming as you'd like it to be. The War was scary and you weren't a soldier. Not one bit, and you never hid that.

"We need some medical support. What we have from the Clones army isn't enough", Obi Wan explained, hoping to find a common ground with you. "We work well with your team. You know Kix and our medic, so both the 212th and 501st would be able to cooperate well with you."

"We're not soldiers, Kenobi" you answered, looking at your closest medics. "Most of my team consists of civilians volunteering to help, with not even any medical background." You stopped and sighed deeply, feeling all the eyes on you. "Are we going to get any basic defense lessons?"

"The first mission starts in three days. We don't have time for that. Most of your people would stay behind as a background help. Only those with more medical experience would be put in front of the battles as a better equipped help." Saying that, his gaze was moved to his soldiers and nodded his head at them, making you frown. "I'm sorry Y/N", your brow raised hearing him say your first name. Manipulative son of a bitch. "I know, you didn't sign up for that, but…"

"I will talk to my people. It is their decision, alright?", he nodded understanding your point. "I will help as much as I can of course. I'm just…" you trailed off, feeling bashful all of a sudden. "I don't want to be a bother if it comes to it."

"You won't be, Doc, trust us." Cody spoke and you turned towards him. It has been almost a month since that fateful talk. You kept your promise to him to be adult about it and to your surprise Cody made sure you felt comfortable around him. What's more, he and you spent more time together than ever. At the beginning he would come for a check up, staying a bit later just to talk. Nothing special, nothing that would make any of you uncomfortable. But with time the two of you noticed that your conversations became more and more fun rather than essential. “We would still prefer to give at least a basic defense training for the medics that would accompany us into an actual field. You included.” You swallowed and nodded. No, you didn’t like that one bit. There was a solid reason why you decided to never become a soldier. You weren’t the physical type of person really. Always keeping your nose in books has made you averse to any physical activities. “Some of my people and a bunch of 501st guys will be happy to teach you guys some basics.” Despite Cody’s soft spoken words you were still not sure about it. But it was War and you promised yourself that you would help the Clones and the Jedi win it in any way possible.

“Let me talk to my team and I will let you know about the final size of the eventual group.” All of them nodded their heads. You could decide for your own, but your people’s lives weren’t yours and they had a right to decide. “I will accompany you, of course, but I will have to leave Garialth here to keep an eye on everything.” Kenobi wasn’t too happy about it, but he understood that someone must stay behind in case and if he was forced to choose, you were still the best possible option. “How much time does my team have to decide?”

“None, really” Rex interjected, sending you one of his apologetic looks. “Even if the smaller medic teams wouldn’t accompany us to the field, we still need to give them a basic military brief. And we leave tomorrow morning so…”

“Give me half an hour?” Rex smiled, thankful for your cooperation. “I need your word, Kenobi, that if any of my men decides to stay here, there will be no consequence.” The Jedi nodded and promised that nothing bad would happen. “And I want to have a way to contact all of the teams that will be made up from my medics.” Another nod and well, you had to give it to Kenobi. After all, he was a negotiator. “Half an hour.”

***

You were proud of your men. There were only a handful of them that didn’t want to join the Troopers. Most of them may have been civilians joining your team, but they have quickly become the true medic team of the War. Even Skywalker and Kenobi were surprised when you gave them the numbers. Yes, you were proud of your men, and even more afraid now. The more joined the field, the bigger probability that more would never come back.

“Come on, Doc.” Cody’s hand on your shoulder shifted your focus onto him. “I’m responsible for your training.”

“Excuse me?” You gaped at him, not believing what you were hearing. “For sure you have some better things to do than that!” He turned and looked at you with a raised brow. He sighed deeply and then you truly looked at him. He was tired, very tired. The rested man that left your hospital bed was long gone and the Cody you knew took his place. The blacks under his eyes were getting bigger, his face despite not showing any emotions gave away more to those that looked closely. You noticed the way he would look for a quiet place more than often, probably due to the headaches that were probably becoming an everyday occurrence in his life now. His sullen cheeks worried you a bit that you have already been taking care of. Whenever he would come to you for a caff or just a talk you always had something to eat. Whether it was something as stupid as a sandwich or even something sweet. But something more than ratio food.

“Keeping you and other medics safe is our priority now.” He smiled softly seeing the way you were looking at him. “Stop analyzing me.”

“I’m not” you pouted and chuckled when he raised his brow at you playfully. You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Fine, maybe I am. But can you blame me? You left my hospital looking shiny, like you came right from Kamino and not even a month later you are once again.. Well you…”

“Me?!” He laughed at that and you cursed the little butterflies in your stomach at that sound. It wasn’t often Cody would truly laugh, but when he did, it was the most beautiful sound and you swore you’d do anything just to hear him again. It was like an addiction, when you had it once, you wanted it always.

“You look tired Cody. I know you’re the Marshall Commander but when was the last time you actually rested? I can’t make you train me when I know you could spend that time resting.” He raised his brow at you and you stood your ground, knowing what he was doing. The bastard knew how imitating he was, but you were a head medic of the Coruscant Hospital. You weren’t one for intimidation. And so you crossed your hands and locked eyes with him, making him smirk.

“You are stubborn, has anyone ever told you that?”

“One or two of your brothers”, you shrugged and he rolled his eyes at that, making you smile.

“How about we go through the strategy for this mission, and while you revise it yourself I would close my eyes for a while?” You narrowed your eyes at him but obliged, happy with a somehow compromise. A simple “close my eyes” wasn’t what you initially was aiming for, but when it comes to Cody, you knew it was more than what you were able to get.

"Just a heads up, I'm a very slow reader!" The man chuckled and you were already forming a plan for him to rest as long as possible. Even if it meant reading the damn strategy briefing more times that it was logically necessary.

***

The sound of your angry groans was the only thing that could have been heard for a while now. No matter what you'd do, the damn thing wouldn't work as well as it did for Cody and the bastard seemed too smug about it.

"You won't become an A-class shooter after just an hour, Doc" the little smirk on his lip would normally bring a soft smile to your lips, but you were tired and annoyed. Nothing seemed to work. No matter how you stood, how high or low your arms were, or what direction your feet were facing, you were unable to shoot the damn target.

"Your breath is too hectic", he started, taking a stand next to you. His blaster at a perfect angle with his arm, the stance was just as he showed you, and his eyes never leaving the target. A perfect soldier shooting a perfect 10. "It's like you hate the solemn thought of holding a blaster." You looked at him and bit your lips nervously. He had a point, the first time he gave you the gun to hold, you could feel your hand shaking. You weren't a trained soldier. You were a medic, a doctor, and holding a gun was the last thing you wanted.

"I'm a medic, a doctor," you started, avoiding his eyes. It felt stupid. Here you were in front of a Marshal Commander, a man you lo… you look up to, looking all so weak and pathetic. "I swore to protect people not kill them." Cody frowned and sighed, ignoring the way you flinched at it a little bit.

He never thought of that. He knew training you wouldn't be easy, after all you weren't a trained soldier, bread for it. But he never truly comprehends that your complete lack of skill with a blaster would have another reason, other than just you being unable to do it. He would never have guessed that someone would just be opposed to even holding it and with an actually good reason.

"A gun isn't just for killing," he started, not sure how to go with it. He wasn't good with talks like that, Rex or even Fives would probably have a better go, but you were here with him and his job was to keep you safe. He wanted to keep you safe. And to do it, he needed you to learn the basics of self defense. "It can save people as well. This is how we do it, why we Clones use it." You raised your brow at him but looked at him giving that benefit of a doubt. "Killing is hard and the last result when it comes to humans. This is why the blaster has two options. To stunt and to kill. We may be machines made to win a war but we do not like killing any more than you or other civilians."

"You're not machines!" He smiled at your interruption. He would never admit, but his heart did skip a bit whenever you showed your protective side towards him and his brothers. He would never admit to it, but he liked the way your eyes shine with anger whenever someone spoke wrongly of Clones, he couldn't help but smile at the way your tone gets more serious and your feet stumble with a bit of anger, almost as if to emphasize your words. It's kind of childish, but he still adores it. He doesn't know when that happened, but whenever you speak and defeat them, his heart does this weird thing he never truly understood and he thinks he never will.

"Is that all you got from my speech?" His question, despite being serious, weighs some kind of cheekiness that only Cody would show. "Think of a gun like one of your scalpels and equipment you use to save our lives." He gave you the weapon back and you looked down at it, weighing it in your hand.

It was so warm. From that short time he held it it already became his. She felt different, like his touch on it took away the scary aspect of it. After all, if Cody could hold it and use it, it can't be that bad. Right ?

"How do you feel with a knife?" The question got you off guard. You raised your brow at him and smiled mischievously.

"I did cut you open nicely", your heart skipped a bit with his laugh and you were never more proud of yourself. Cody had one of the most beautiful laughs. Despite him being a clone, you were sure that you would be able to distinguish him from the others with that laugh alone. It was deep and soft at the same time, with that something in it, something mysterious.

"Maybe the gun isn't really your thing after all."

***

"So no knife either?" You felt like crying. Nothing worked. The knife was even worse than the blaster. With the latter, you were at least able to shoot remotely close to the target, with a knife… well it took Cody one simple move to take it away from you. You felt angry and embarrassed and you don't know when you started to cry. "Hey, Doc, are you alright?" The concern in his voice brought a quiet sob from you, which he didn't miss. His hand on your shoulder would have probably brought you comfort if you weren't so mad at yourself right now. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"I'm angry", you hissed, throwing away the knife and trying to get rid of the angry tears pouring down your cheeks. "I'm so damn furious at myself." He raised his brows and whether he knew or not, his hand tightened on your shoulder. "We're off on the first mission tomorrow and all I did for the past two days was waste your time. I'm so angry because I'm sure you had better things to do than babysit me around and teach me things I'm so terrible at. You tried so hard and here I am…" you looked up in alarm when you heard a chuckle coming from the man. You expect all the different reactions but not this.

"I'm sorry Doc, I really am… it's just" he composed himself and straightened sending you one of his soft smiles. "I thought you hurt yourself or I worked you off too much and here you are… gosh you really are adorable!" The both of you froze at his words.

From the way his eyes searched anything but you, it was obvious he did not plan on saying it. At least not saying it out loud. You looked away and bit your lip nervously. You must have misheard him, it was impossible that the Marshal Commander Cody saw you as adorable. But it was not the time for that. And so you did all you could to master the most neutral face, like you didn't hear it at all.

"You're tensed", he finally continued when he noticed that words he stumbled didn't have any effect on you. He wasn't sure if he was thankful for that or the complete opposite. "It's like you are already preparing yourself for failure." You rolled your eyes, trying to control your breathing once again. "Here." There was a millisecond of uncertainty, but he picked up your knife and walked behind you, handing you the weapon. "Take it and slowly take a deep breath. Try to feel it in your hand, but empty your mind. Do not associate it with anything rather than just a knife. A blade you used hundreds of times in your entire life." His gloved hand was on yours, the second one protectively on your other arm. "You're holding it so hard, I'm afraid you'll break it", you couldn't help but chuckle, despite the uncontrollable feeling in your stomach, when he moved closer and you could feel him almost leaning on you. "Take a deep breath, Doc. Breath with me. Come on", he turned you around and put your hand on his chest. Despite the inner happiness in seeing him in only his blacks, you really wished he had his chest plate now on. You could feel his muscles from the thin fabric and you did your best to focus on what he wanted you to do.

And so you closed your eyes and listened to the controlled beating of his heart. How his chest would move wu\ith such peace that you envied him for it. "Breath with me. In and out and repeat."

He smiled softly, feeling how you started to drum your fingers on his chest, almost looking for a rhythm that would relax you somehow. He would never guess that you were so stressed. He knew that feeling well. Having the lives of others on your back was enough to make your nights sleepless. Also the longer the War was taking, the more tired you would become, the more of his brothers would make your life more and more tiring. He knew and saw numerous times how you cared deeply for him and other Clones and he knew that whenever any of them didn't come back it hurt you more and more. And yet you never let it affect you. You always smiled and supported them. You were always there when he or the others needed you. You would send him to get some sleep, not caring about the oh so growing bags under your own eyes. You were way beyond tired, you were exhausted and yet here you were on a way to a mission you really could have said no to. However, you never even thought for a minute about yourself, your main priority was your man. You didn't think twice before saying yes, but your men’s lives weren’t yours to decide. You were not a soldier and yet you were stronger than anyone Cody knew. And he admired it, he watched you since his hospital visit and he couldn't take his eyes off.

In the beginning he would come and talk to you, because he felt bad for the way he reacted to your feelings. But the more he observed, the more time he spent with you, he learned to realize that he actually enjoyed that time. You were such a fun and interesting person, with a lot to talk about. And what he found himself to be waiting for yet another evening he would spend just with you. Talking about the War, politics and the situation of the medic teams. But also about your favorite planet, the language you both would like to learn, about the dish you'd like to try and things you'd never touch and how awful Kenobi's lack of any reason is. He found himself thinking what would you think of the last planet he was on. Would you enjoy it or would you hate it as much as he did. What he learned was that he didn't find it scary that he started to think of you more and more often. And that scared him the most.

"Now open your eyes and just do what I taught you." And to your surprise the knife actually hit the target. Maybe not the actual target per se, but it stuck into the oval plate, which was a much better outcome than the other tries before. You gasped surprised and looked up at Commander smiling widely. You were so excited about the outcome of your last throw that you didn't realize how close you were to the man. His hands were still on you, his body closer than before. "Good girl." He murmured and it was then you realized. The praise never left him before and it was so unexpected that you had to stiffen the little moan trying to escape. Was he doing it on purpose, did he know what he did to you? Could you even dream to think that maybe you had a small effect on him as well? "Now let's see if that would work on the blaster as well." He took a step back and removed his hands from yours, putting the practice blaster in the same place the knife was just seconds ago. "Just like you did before take a deep breath."

You tried your best to concentrate and remember the feeling just before you threw the knife. But your mind was blank,completely. Your body felt cold and stiff again and you missed it. Miserably. You looked away afraid to see disappointment in his eyes.

"Again", you flinched a little bit, unsure if it was the Commander voice he used on you now, or you were just being paranoid. "Relax, Doc. You're stiff and awkward again. Take a deep breath, just like I showed you."

You weren't sure what it was that made you say it. Was it the overwhelming feeling or failure that you wanted to end. Or just a reminder of his hands on yours, the dream you know that would never come true. The reminder of him behind you, so close that could feel his heartbeat. The same heart you saved weeks ago. The heart of the man you were so desperately feeling in love with and you couldn't help it.

"Would you remind me, please?" Cody's eyes widened, hearing your quiet and soft question. You still weren’t looking at him, but he was sure to see your cheeks getting this adorable color of pink. It's not that Cody isn't familiar with women, hell no. He had enough adventures with them when he went to the 79's. But these were emotionless, he always knew what to expect. A night of fun and release and a goodbye before the sunrise. A one night stand. Nothing more, nothing less. But despite it all, he knew when a woman flirted with him. And despite the women in the club being more forward, he was sure that little question was not innocent. Not when you yourself were so flustered.

He felt divided when he stood behind you. He knew that he shouldn't, he didn't want to give you hope that anything could happen between the two of you. He knew he was becoming soft on you, but you weren't like those girls in the club. He didn't want to use those feelings of yours as a way to release his stress. You were so much to him already. So much more than he would dream to accept.

But the other part of him was pulling him towards you. It wanted to be closer to you, to be touched by you and show the most vulnerable parts of himself, he never showed anyone, not even his closest brothers. He wanted to get to know you more and more. And not only on the physical level but the emotional as well, and as scary as it was it was most importantly thrilling. And the more time he spent with you the more time he realized the second voice always won.

And so he grasped your arm in one of his hands, turned you around and pulled you towards him in a way that your back was pressed against his chest. The hand on your arm traveled down to your hand holding the blaster, changing its position to make sure you held it correctly. His other hand was hovered over your hip. "Relax, mesh’la" you shivered slightly hearing his voice so close to your ear. You swallowed hard and did what he asked, ignoring the Mando word you were sure you've heard before in your life. "There, good girl!" Now you were almost sure he was doing it on purpose. There was no way that he was as cruelest as that. You felt so warm and no matter how much you tried, you felt heat on your cheeks and your mouth was getting drier and drier. "Good, deep breath. Close your eyes for a second and relax." You followed his instructions and smiled, actually relaxing with his touch. He smelled amazing as well, like pinetree forest. So fresh and natural and so when you opened your eyes and shot, you actually hit the little disk not too far away from the target.

He turned you around and smiled softly at you. The kind of smile you have never seen. You could see it in his eyes how proud he was of you right now. His other hand joined the first one in your hip and he pulled you closer, closing the distance between the two of you even more. His eyes shifted to your lip and you swallowed, unable to look away from this beautiful, amazing man. As you were about to pull him down by his neck, the loud beeping pulled you two away from each other.

"General", his tone lacked the softness and he was back to being the Commander of 212th. "Yes, we are done here." You felt a weird twist in the stomach when he didn't look at you. "She'll manage when it's necessary", you looked away from him and put the gun away, the feeling getting nastier every second. "Yes, sir. I'm coming" He ended the call and without giving you even a look, walked to his armor and put it on quickly, including the helmet. "Practice what you learned alone. I will send Boil to supervise your progress" and he left, leaving you completely dumbstruck. Without even a glance back, the doors closed behind you and you felt tears in your eyes.

What the hell just happened? There were so many questions in your head now and you weren't sure, you were able to find an answer to any of them. Were you too forward with the request ? If you were, why didn't he say anything? It was him, who pulled you closer, it was him that gave you that look. It was his hand on your hips and it was his smile that lured you towards him. And despite knowing it all, you still felt as if you screwed up. You were standing there searching for a reason why he just left, moving you to someone else, as you were an incompetent shiny.

You cursed when tears started to fall. Why did he just leave? Did he hate you now ? Did you read the room wrong ? The more you thought about it, the more you felt your heart breaking. You thought, damn that, you hoped, that maybe you two were getting closer. You never expected him to return your feelings. You just wanted to be his friend. You just wanted him in your life. And somehow, not even sure how, you screwed it all up.

It was stupid of you to think that someone like Cody would ever be interested in you. You were just one of the medics, working for GAR. There was nothing special about you. You weren't even able to use a blaster. How would you even think, the Marshal Commander would spare you any time. You should have been happy that he spent his precious time with you. Something you were sure that you have lost.

And so, you followed his order. An order of the Marshal Commander of the Republic army. You calmed yourself down and practiced, to make sure that you wouldn't bother anyone.

***

"You look angry" Rex was looking at his vod with concern in his eyes. "You seemed optimistic with the plan on the debrief."

"It's a good plan." Cody answered shortly, taking a sip of caff, or whatever the hell that was supposed to be.

"Then what's going on?" The Commander sighed and hid his face in his hands, unable to even explain it. He was angry at himself. So damn frustrated, that he let himself go when it came to you. He acted like a damn shiny. It was stupid, but he knew what he wanted at that moment. He wanted you, so damn much. He wanted to taste you in all the ways possible. He wanted to feel those soft hands on his skin, he wanted to hear you say his name. He wanted you. And that was the stupidest thing he did, even worse than getting drunk with Wolffe that one night, and that was stupid already.

"Nothing. I just have to get my head straightened to focus on the mission", the captain raised his brow in surprise. Cody was always focused on the mission. Rex hasn't met anyone as serious about the War as Cody was. So whatever got him distracted must be huge. "I have to focus on what's really important."

"You spend too much time with General Kenobi… you start talking in the same mysterious ways" the Commander chuckled softly and took another sip from his cup, hating it even more than the first one. What he wouldn't do for a cup of an actual caff. He would have to definitely go see Fox after that mission. The bastard was one lucky son of a bitch. Sure he had to work below Palpatine, but he had the best caff.

"Have you ever thought about something more?" The question surprised both of them. Cody wasn't sure if it was the tiredness and lack of sleep that pushed him to start the topic, or just the fact that he felt worse and worse everytime he remembered the look on your face when he just left.

"More than what? That piss they dare call caff?

"You know what I mean Rex’ika" the captain of course knew what his brother meant. But he was still working out the surprise of the question itself. Cody was a dedicated soldier, one of, if not the best one out there. And here he was, asking about the alternative future. Something more than being a soldier. "What if there is more and we're just too afraid to take it?"

"We're soldiers, Clones… we are at War. I won't lie to you and say that I never thought of what it would be like to have a family one day. To wake up to a nice warm body wrapped around me and not wonder about the awkwardness of the morning after." He chuckled nervously. "But I'm aware that those are dreams of common men, and we, my friend, are not common men." He hated to see the way Cody shoulders dropped a bit at his words. But he preferred to be honest with him straight away than to give him a false hope that would break him even more, later on. "So I'm guessing the training was eventful?"

It was Cody's time to chuckle nervously, sadly even, which didn't go unnoticed by Rex. It wasn't a surprise to Rex about your feeling towards his Vod, and he may have heard of the rejection you got from the said man. So it was surprising to see when Cody has started to spend his time with you, more often than not. And he was more than surprised when it was the Commander that volunteered to train you for the upcoming mission. Rex worried it would only make things more complicated, but he never thought it would turn out like that. With Cody falling for the sweet Doctor. If they weren't Clones, during the War, he would have found the situation hilarious. If only.

"Boil is going to train her that last day" Rex' eyes widened at Cody's words and tone. "I need to focus on the strategy and the briefing. I don't have time to babysit. "Not waiting for a response, the Commander stood and left the kitchen, hoping to get at least a bit of sleep.

Rex was staring at the closed doors unable to comprehend what just happened. But whatever did happen between the two of you must have scared the man quite a bit, seeing how he decided that running away from his problems and putting down the emotional barrier was the only way to go. Rex only hoped that it would not affect you that much.

***

Boil was an excellent teacher. He was patient and fun to be around. He gave you some tips for when you have to shoot and you don't have time to think. Or he gave you an idea to hold the knife differently. Of course he didn't make a soldier out of you in a day, but you were more than thankful to him for the support. You still felt nervous now, sitting at the briefing room, but you kind of felt like you would be able to do something. He also made sure you trained hard enough not to think of Cody.

Cody, the same man, who was standing near the table covered in plans, who was ignoring your presence. It was like you didn't exist. Like that little scene between the two of you never happened. Like all that relationship you worked so hard in maintaining just seemed to cease. It broke your heart, seeing how he bluntly ignored you, not even daring looking your way.

"You with us, Doc?" You blinked a couple of times, turning your attention towards Kenobi, who was relying on the brief for the mission.

"My people are ready, whenever you need us." You started, walking closer to the map, stopping as far away from Cody as possible. "My technical team will be stationed here", you pointed at one of the caves about half a click from the main medical base and about a click from the main battle front. “Kix' team will support my guys there and have some moving men between those two places." You circled around the spots you talked about. "This will give us a good flow of pace. Team Alpha and Beta will be placed under both you General and Skywalker as medical support for the Clones teams." You paused and looked at the two Jedi with nothing but seriousness in your eyes. "Please remember I put these men's lives into your hands, Masters. I trust I won't have to focus on writing any apology letters to their families." This was one of the points you brought up regarding the mission. Your men would be as safe as it was possible. "Ceavis and I will lead two small teams closest to the Generals and focus on first aid and logistics. Each team will consist of 4 men plus the leaders. What we say, goes. Understood?" You were sure you noticed a smirk on both Rex' and Ashoka's lips. But no one dared to say anything but to nod.

This mission was one of the most important ones yet. Two objectives during one assault. One team would focus on the fighting and defending objective. Keeping the army as far away from the separatists' base as possible. And that mission fell on the more offensive 501st. The other one would be responsible for saving the political prisoners and getting the stolen information back to the Republic - fallen under the responsibility of the 212th. This was why the medic team was needed. There was no time to retreat and help the injured back in the base. The base would have to move with them and help those that would still be working, hoping to minimize the casualties.

"Doc, you keep with me and Cody." You tensed a bit, unable to hide it away from the Jedi, who only raised his brow. "We will listen to you regarding the medical knowledge and expertise, but Cody here is responsible for you, so you listen to him. Understood ?" He mimicked your words with a lace of joke in his voice. You nodded looking at the Commander, who was still looking at the map, memorizing it to the last detail.

You couldn't blame him, you knew that. He was focused on the mission and the War and keeping his brothers alive. But it still hurt you that he bluntly ignored you, like you were some kind of disease. It hurts you to be able to see the softness in his eyes and feel it on your skin and so absurdly be punished for it. You never expected anything from him, and you told him that, and for just one moment you felt so happy and full. So full and finally able to breathe when he looked at you with those eyes of his. Like you were the only thing in the world at that short moment, like you were a magnet pulling him towards you. And then it was over, it ended sooner than it actually started and he wasn't even able to look at you.

"Don't worry, Kenobi. I know my place." You didn't mean it to sound as hurt as you did, but it did make Cody finally look at you. He frowned, but didn't say anything. Putting his helmet on, he left the room, telling his General he's off to double check everything.

"So…" you looked at Rex who walked to your side. You were thankful it was him and not Kenobi, or worse, Anakin. "Will you at least tell what my di’kut of a brother did?" You couldn't help but smile softly at the Captain. You weren't sure if Cody spoke to him about what happened… on the other hand you would like to know yourself what happened.

"Getting rid of any interruptions." The Clone raised his brow at that and sighed. He was afraid, whatever Cody started talking about, was more what he originally thought. And seeing the way you both reacted to each other, Rex knew that whatever you worked so hard to build, was somehow destroyed. And he couldn't get the feeling off his chest, that it was somehow his brother's fault. "It's my fault really. I was stupid enough to hope that whatever was building between us was something more than a typical professional relation." And before Rex was able to say anything, you left the briefing room, hoping he would have missed that single tear that dropped down your cheek.

***

"I hope you know I don't like it one bit" Ceavis growled under his breath, preparing for the upcoming mission. Ceavis was your third in command and as much as you appreciated his work and knowledge, you and him were never truly friends. You both had too different characters and a completely different look on the world and your jobs.

"Yes, you mentioned that once or twice", you rolled your eyes at his tone and sighed. You were in no mood to listen to his constant negativity. It was the last thing you and your men needed. You knew it wasn't a good idea, but the decision has been made. "I'm not sure which team would actually be a better and safer option." You stared at him for a while, waiting for him to at least start packing the essentials, but apparently he had all the time in the world, while you were repacking for the fifth time already.

You didn't know how Kix did it. You were only allowed a small backpack, enough to keep you alive, but not enough to actually do anything productive. It scared you, the thought that you had to choose from the essentials, that the Clones had to choose like that every damn mission.

"Master Skywalker and the 501st's team will be much bigger, that's why I'm sending you there." You started, trying to control the annoyance in your voice. "You and Enya will focus on firming two formations. Let Enya handle the stay put one, while you take the teams and get the help directly to the soldiers. Your team got the basic training right ?" He nodded visibly, not happy with the way you still wanted to go with the mission. You wonder why he even agreed to come. "Anakin knows that the lives of my people are his priority. He wouldn't want to get under my skin, so whenever you feel like the mission is out of the hands of the 501st speak with Rex and Anakin." You got a nod from him and you turned to leave the room. "We are part of something bigger here, Ceavis, try to remember that", and not giving him any time to respond you left, going to meet up with your team.

***

"Is there any reason for this weird energy between you and Doc?" Cody frowned at his General. He should have known Kenobi would have picked up any unusual behavior. "I thought you were becoming close."

"Too close", the Commander answered, before he was able to think of the words coming out of his mouth. He sighed at the Jedi's raised brow and continued. "We're at War, General. It would be irresponsible to get attached to anyone."

"You don't mind the relationship you share with me and your brothers."

"This is different, sir!" Cody murmured, knowing well enough what the man next to him was trying to do.

"Well I hope so, I'm really not good at dealing with romantic feelings" Cody's head snapped at him, his eyes widened and mouth opened almost as if he was ready to fight with his General, but nothing came out. "Whether you're blind or really afraid. Frankly I never considered you a coward and for the success of the mission I hope there's nothing wrong with your eyesight." The Clone swallowed hard and the Jedi smiled. "What's really the matter, my dear ?" Cody hated it when he used these words of affection. He would never be able to say no to his Jedi, and he hated the fact that the general had such power over him. With nothing more than some words.

"I don't really know myself. Before I knew it, I started to actually enjoy her company. She's smart, witty, interesting and…" He coughed awkwardly, playing with his helmet. "She's really pretty." He looked away, hearing the Jedi chuckle softly. "I felt bad at the beginning. I never had anyone declare their love for me and I didn't want her to get hurt. I hoped that if I tried to stay friendly she wouldn't feel bad. But the more time I spent with her the more I thought of her." He shook his head in annoyance and kept on playing with the helmet. "The last couple of days, when I trained her… I know not every Jedi believes we’re nothing but the weapon for the Republic, but it's still weird to hear it from civvies." He scratched his neck nervously, feeling his Jedi's eyes on him. "She sees us. Like really sees us and I can't help but wanting to see her as well. She cried angry tears because she thought she was a burden to me." He chuckled, but got serious again with the flashbacks. "I never felt such a pull towards anybody. I wanted to comfort her not as a Commander, but as a man. Her man." He clenched his hands around his helmet and closed his eyes. "I… you called when I almost …egh.. you know."

"Kissed her", Kenobi helped him out, laughing at the way his Commander stared at him. It was like he said something in a line of taboo. Obi Wan could not help but admit that it was adorable to see the always stoic Commander, all flustered with a thought of kissing someone.

"I'm starting to realize why the Jedi opt for no emotions involved." Cody started again, making the Jedi frown again. "I asked Boil to train her after that and we haven't really spoken… I'm trying to ignore her, because if I'm near her, all I think about is her going on that mission with us. And the thought that something may happen to her paralyzes me to the ground. It's pathetic isn't it?"

Kenobi smiled softly at the man and patted him on the shoulder. It wasn't a secret to him that you were utterly in love with the man, but it was new to see the Clone smitten with you, especially after he rejected your feelings in the first place. He knew the way others looked at the Clones, and he would lie if he said he wasn’t angry whenever someone said something bad about them. For the General, his Commander and his brothers were as much human as he or anyone in the Galaxy and they deserved the respect for protecting the Republic. So whenever he went out with his battalion to 79th, he truly enjoyed seeing them relaxed and flirty with the girls. And it wasn't a secret that he saw Cody as more than his Commander. He was happy to call him a friend and right now, he couldn't help the happy feeling in his stomach seeing Cody in love with his other friend.

"It's not pathetic, Cody. It's childish that you ignore her, yes." He grinned at the angry look from the Clone but continued nevertheless. "But definitely not pathetic. We Jedi see more and feel stronger. So much stronger than anyone in the Galaxy. To control those feelings we opt for these no attachment rules. But it's not like we don't feel. Feeling makes you human. It makes you act faster and stronger to protect those that you care about. You are a great soldier, my dear, and there is not doubt in me that the mission will be a success, even when you worry so deeply for our Doctor." The Clone smiled softly and nodded. "Love isn't easy and it doesn't always end well, but running away from it may be the most stupid mistake you'd made in your life. If you care for her, talk to her. Tell her how you feel, but for the love of the Force, don't ignore her. You'll only hurt yourself and her even more." He ended at the same moment when your team was slowly getting hungry. "Trust me, my friend. Life is to short for regrets."

***

"I want to set a camp of some kind in here" you stated, showing a place that was supposed to be abandoned, not too far away from the final destination, but far enough that the medics would have time to fall back. "If you need a medic to come with you, I volunteer, Boil and Commander Cody have trained me enough not to be a bother. Aila will stay and take command over the camp." The young girl nodded, already hearing the plan from you, before you presented it to the battalion. "Cath has also agreed to go if you decide to split during the mission. This would give a total of four medic in the move-in team, which is more than enough." You looked at Cath, a young man who, as one of few, had some experience with blasters.

"Sounds good to me" Kenobi started, looking at his Commander who was still looking at the holomap, a frown on his face. He didn't like the fact that you so willingly wanted to go with them, but he knew if it was anyone else he would have agreed to a good plan. You were the best medic he knew and it would be a stupid ass decision if he declined your help, especially that it was what he trained you for.

"It sounds good. Having a small camp will help in case we would need to fall out and go in a smaller group." He nodded, more and more impressed with your planning skills. It made him a bit at ease, when he knew you were prepared for that mission. "The entry to the building seems like a labyrinth, it would be a good idea to divide the teams right now, to save time later."

"I'll take the lead with the first team, you can have the other team." Kenobi started looking at Cody, who nodded in agreement. "I want to see what Cath is capable of." He didn't miss his Commander's eyes on him and he knew there would be a stern talking about it later on. He bit down a chuckle at that. "You and Doc work well together, are you OK with that ?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Sure, Kenobi", both of you answered at the same time, not daring to look at each other. Working well with each other. You almost scoffed how untrue that was at the moment. You probably would if Cody would have enough guts to look at you… and well, if you weren't such a coward yourself. But this was a mission, no personal attachment was prohibited and you had to hide the hurt you felt. And shame. It was the second time you let the same man break your heart. He didn't even have to do much, his ignorance was enough for you to bring tears in your eyes at night. But it was in the past, nothing was more important than the present. And right now you had to work together to make sure the mission went smoothly.

"Alright! We move out in ten, get ready!" Everyone around turned and was ready to follow the Jedi into the ship, already prepared for the upcoming mission. You did the same, turning to leave when you felt a hand on your wrist stopping you.

"Can we please talk?" You raised your brow wanting nothing more to just walk away and tell him there was nothing to talk about. But your stupid heart made you stop and nod at the Clone. "I must apologize. What I did in the training room was a mistake." So two was not enough. He just broke your heart the third time. A mistake - that closeness, that softness in his eyes, the touch of his hands on you. It was all a mistake. "I should not have gotten so close. I… I mean there is a mission and I think we should both focus on that right now." He tried to make the last two words stand out, but the nervousness made it only sound harsher than he ever intended.

"I understand", his eyes widened at your affirmation and he seemed to relax a bit, until he actually looked at you and his heart broke just a little. Your expression was emotionless, your eyes had no life in them, like you didn't care about anything. "You don't have to worry, that mistake won't happen again." He voluntarily flinched at your monotone voice and the repeat of his own words. Somehow, hearing them from you, felt foreign, painful. "The mission is a priority, Commander." And then you left him alone in that empty briefing room. Feeling worse than he has ever felt before.

***

The planet was a nightmare. Whenever you stood, you could hear someone fighting. It was like a war zone on the whole damn planet. You tried to ignore the dead bodies of locals, just left there. Forgotten by everyone, like a bag of trash forgotten, when it wasn't needed anymore.

"We divide here." Kenobi started, looking at your team, as if encouraging you. You sent him a small smile, which je reciprocated with a firm nod. "Cody, I will let you know when we get the data back, I'm awaiting your response when it comes to the situation at your sector."

"Yes, sir !" The Clone turned towards your group and showed the small map from the holopad. "We will focus on that road here. It's a recon mission from us. If we can avoid the fight we will. 501 has that covered." You couldn't help but smile at his tired tone, when he mentioned Anakin's division. "We may encounter local forces there. If you have to fight, if you don't, capture them. Reckon! Everyone gets it?” A chorus of yes sirs was heard and the men scattered to get into the position. “Stay close to me, Doc.” You turned, after hearing his voice. Despite the command in the tone, you could see a vulnerability in his eyes. You didn't understand where that came from, but you nodded.

You weren’t about to be a bother to him. You have decided. The moment that mission is over, you will come back to your hospital and regain that professional relationship Cody was so fixated about. The last thing you wanted was to make his life any more difficult than it already was. You desperately hoped to become his friend. Someone who would be able to help him whenever he would have been in need. But he wasn’t looking for a friend. You realized he was just being nice. A good, old Cody. Always the gentleman. All this talk the two of you had was some kind of an apology from him for turning you down. And that thought was making you want to break down and cry right here right now.

“Boss” you heard Aila’s voice in your right ear and turned to commlink on. “The camp is set up and we have divided work throughout our stuff and the Clones.” You smiled at her words and nodded at Cody who looked your way, as if to confirm that all is fine.

“Good! Make sure that you’re aware of both your surroundings and the medical stuff. Try to divide it into small teams as we discussed. Get Grail and Tylie focus on the equipment. The rest make sure you show off to those Clones. We can’t be worse than them.” You ignored the chuckle from the Commander and smiled at the one from the girl on the base. You believed in your men, your medics were the best and you weren’t being subjective. You trained them well, and you trusted them with your life. All you could do was boost their morale as much as possible. Even with some stupid jokes like that. “If anything happens let me or Commander Cody know.”

“Boil and Waxer have already instructed us on the military shit.” The girl laughed at the two Clones that were left behind as a support. “You be safe, OK, boss? I need a raise and I won’t get it, if you don’t come back.” You laughed at that and turned off the comm, when you walked into the tunnel.

“Focus now. Blasters out, get them into stun mode and keep your heads up.” Cody muttered, turning on the light on his helmet. “And remember we only kill the damn clanckers.” You followed his order, getting your blaster out. You could almost hear your heart beating, with how loud it was getting. You tried your best to control your breathing but it was getting more difficult the further you went into that tunnel. The damn gun was also much heavier than it was during the practice. You noticed how your hand shook a bit when you lifted the blaster slightly. This was ridiculous. You shouldn’t be this nervous, you knew what you were getting yourself into. It’s too late to change your mind. Survive this and you can come back to your patients and white walls of your hospital.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Cody whispered softly, seeing the way your hands were shaking. He wasn’t surprised to see your nervous state. Despite being an amazing doctor, you were just a civilian, that was always as far away as possible from the battlefield. All this must be terrifying for you. Not only were you afraid for your own life, but knowing you, you were also thinking of your team. Always the caring one. “Do you trust me?” He didn’t know where that question came from. He wasn’t supposed to focus on any kind of conversation with you. His job was to observe and act as quickly as possible. Not have an existential dialogue, with the woman he was annoyingly falling for. This should be left for after the mission. And yet here he was, trying his best to make you feel better.

“Yes”, the certainty in your voice made his heart skip a beat. He didn’t expect you to answer so quickly and with such confidence. He looked down and smiled softly seeing the way you were completely focused on your surroundings. ‘Good girl’, he thought to himself.

“Good, then we have nothing to worry about”, she smiled softly and he felt lighter seeing that little lip quirk. He felt proud for making you feel at least a little bit at ease.

“Commander!” He stopped, motioning to others to stand by. “Its Vice here. We are at some kind of door, about half a click from your position. We can check it out, or should we wait for you?”

“Wait for us.” He commended, signaling others to move again. “All the medics are here with us, in case something happens no one will be able to help you. Stand down, and wait, Tropper.” A soft yes, sir was the last thing Cody heard and he took some extra, longer steps to get where his men are. He could hear how you already contacted the CLone medic for this team, to be ready. Well, there go the nerves.

“Isn’t it too quiet, Commander?” If they were in any other situation, he would have hated the way you addressed him. But it was the mission, and he was telling himself you were just being professional. Something he should focus on as well. “I may be paranoid, but…”

“It’s possible that the real action will start after we open those doors Vice told us about”, he answered but couldn’t get rid of the nasty feeling in his stomach. He actually did feel the same as you. You all walked for 15 minutes now and nothing was going on. Not only you haven't missed anything, but there was no one waiting for you. “General”, he finally spoke to his comm, when they stopped at the doors with Vice by his side. “Do you read me?”

“Loud and clear, Cody.” hearing as Kenobi answered almost automatically it seemed that nothing was happening on his side. “Something doesn’t smell nice in here.”

“Same here, Sir.” He murmured and signaled for his men to take position. “ We are at the doors. We will open them and see where it gets us. Has General Skywalker been in touch”

“The 501st are having the time of their lives right now, from what I heard.” You couldn’t help but chuckle softly at his sarcastic tone. “But Anakin didn’t sound like he was complaining.”

“Nothing new then”, Cody commanded and the General hummed softly. I will contact you in 15 minutes. If you don’t hear from me or anyone on the team, please assume the worst.”

“Same here, Commander. Stay safe!” And that was it. No commands from the General to the Commander. There was no need. Obi Wan trusted Cody completely and the Clone Commander knew that well. That trust went both ways.

“Ok, on count to three, Howl, open up that damn door.” raising his hand, he started to count down from three and when he closed the fist, you expected some kind of commotion, a boom or a blaster fire from the other side. But once again nothing was there. One part of you was happy that nothing has happened yet, but the second part knew that there was something fishy in here. “Move, move. Keep your eyes open, but let's keep on moving. Instinctively you moved closer to Cody, after his instructions, your fingers tightening on the blaster just a little more.

“The sensor shows around 50 people a click away from here”, Guts reported, showing the screen to Cody. So the intel was correct. There were people being held captive. “There are kids as well.” He nodded and looked down at you. You nodded, understanding. The moment they got there, it was your job to get to those poor people and help those that were in need. Your other, free fist clenched around your bag, ready for the action.

“General. We have sensed 50 lives a click away from us. We are ready to move in. We will meet you at the rendez-vous point, when we can.” He frowned when there was no response. He tried again, and again, but the line was quiet. “Howl, Vice, Doc, try your comms and contact the General.” You all did as he asked, but the outcome was the same. Silence.

“Shouldn’t we help them?” You asked and he looked at you, shaking his head.

“They may have encountered the enemy. We should finish our mission here and then help them.” You wanted to argue. What if they were ambushed, what if they needed our help but couldn’t contact us, what if… “You said you trust me, Doc.” You looked at him and frowned, when he took off his helmet. “Then trust me on this one. And let’s finish our first mission together.” You opened your mouth to respond, but couldn’t find any words. You did trust him. And his judgment. And so you nodded, closing your eyes to relax.

“Ok boys, let’s get this done and go help the General.” They all cheered and you all got ready to storm the place down, unable to hear the quiet rumble from the General in your ear. A silent “it’s a trap” that would later on be a constant nightmare to those that somehow survived.

***

All you could hear was the ringing in your ears. You tried opening your eyes, but you felt as if they were all too heavy. The air felt polluted and heavy all of a sudden. Your head, and that damn ringing wasn’t helping the migrene that was forming, quicker than you liked to admit. Something wasn’t right. But you were still too out of it to realize what was happening.

“Doc!!” you must be dreaming, because you are sure, you hear that soft voice of the commander near you. But for some reason he sounded so worried, almost scared. If that was even possible. You so desperately wanted to keep on dreaming. To have him speak to you in that same soft manner. With his hand on your cheek. This dream was what you wanted for so long and so you closed your eyes and focused on sleeping. “No, no, open those eyes. Come on, sweet girl! Look at me!” He never called you that. Those sweet words were like honey to your ears and you wanted to listen. But you were afraid that if you did, you would wake up and be met with reality. “You have to wake up, damn! Come on!” The pain in your stomach, however, brought you back to reality. With a gasp you sat down and opened those heavy lids, squinting, when the dust was getting into them. “Thank the Maker!”

You looked around and stiffened seeing the scene. If it was only biologically possible, you were sure, your heart just stopped beating right at that moment. You were used to blood and suffering and screams of pains, but what you were now surrounded by was more like Hell. It was how you imagined it to be.

“Don’t look!” it made you look up at him for the first time, since you opened your eyes. He didn’t have his helmet, there was a trickle of blood flowing down his handsome face. There were cuts on his cheeks and his always well-kept hair was a total mess now. He looked awful, and yet you still find him so incredibly handsome. “Focus those pretty eyes on me, OK?” You frowned and tried to look around again, but he stopped your head with his hand on your cheek. His forehead resting on yours, making your breath hitch at the proximity. “I need to get you out of here.”

“Cody”, you started but hissed when you tried to move. You looked down at the source of pain and your eyes widened. Your shirt was no longer white and one of Cody’s hands was pushing on the spot there, trying to stop the flow as much as he could. “What happened?” You asked quietly but he only shook his head and you released that he was shaking slightly. “Cody… Are you… Are you OK?” You were slurring a bit, but you had to make sure. He had a cut on his head. You needed to check on it, to make sure he didn’t have a concussion.

“I need to stop that fucking bleeding and I will be just fine, Mesh’la!” He said, pushing on that wound of yours, making you scream in pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please, please tell me what to do!”

“I need to help others first. Need to take a look at your head!” You looked around again and a shocked sob escaped your lips, when you finally realized what surrounded you. Masses of motionless bodies, laying in the most bizarre positions. Some crushed by the rocks, some not even full. You weren’t sure if you were even able to locate the part of each of the bodies, to try to put them back together? What for? You didn’t know. Not like those Clones had families that would like to bury them. They all died here with their family. All of them, from what you saw. All these men that accompanied you here, were lying dead in front of you. And not just them. In the further part of the corridor you could see bodies of the civilians you came to save. Men, women, kids. Even babies. All dead, buried under the rocks, with blood pouring through the leaks of those rocky walls.

You tried to look away but you couldn’t. Even Cody’s hand on your face didn’t work this time. Your eyes were following each of the bodies surrounding you. A young man holding a woman in his arms. A child separated from his mother. A young woman with dreams cut so drastically. And your whole squad. Those men you loved so much and cared for. You tried to scream when you noticed Vice’s body laying not too far away from you. But you couldn’t as no sound left your lips. He just laid there, still in his armor. If you truly wanted, you could imagine, he was just resting. If you only shook him a bit, maybe he would wake up and smile at you.

You looked at Cody again, when you heard him calling you by your first name. You couldn’t remember if he ever did that? He did use your last name once or twice, but normally stuck with Doc. Until now, you weren’t sure he even knew your name. You chuckled to yourself, but caught when the pain was back, You gasped and almost fell back, if not for Cody keeping an eye on you.

“I know you worry about everyone. But please, Doc. We have to take care of you first.” Oh, yeah you were bleeding. The adrenaline was wearing off and you did start to feel it all. You tried to take a deep breath and relax a bit. You knew that if you let yourself, you will get into a panic attack mode, and that was not good for your heart. And then Cody would have to take care of even more than he does now. Poor guy. He did not sign up for this. You weren’t supposed to be a bother. No to him. No… You shook your head slightly, trying to get back to the topic at hand.

“As the bleeding isn’t exceeding, it means you did a good job and left whatever is there blocking it?” Speaking was getting more and more difficult, but you needed to instruct your commander what to do. You wouldn’t do it to him. You won’t just die, and leave him be. Alone in that Hell you found yourself in. “Don’t take it out even if I go into shock and ask you to do it, got it?” He nodded and still kept the pressure on the wound. “As I’m still able to actually think it means, I wasn’t out for too long and haven’t lost that much blood yet.”

“No… It all happened about 5 minutes ago.” You nodded and slowly sat up, easing your breathing with every second. It all meant one thing. You were probably in the second class of hemorrhagic shock, which wasn’t that bad. You did feel anxious, but the total confusion hasn’t come yet. “I’m not sure if we're actually safe here, so I would prefer to move you…”

“No”, you stopped him, mid sentence, shaking your head. “Any sudden move will lead me to bleed out. We need to stop that blood coming out of my body before anything else.”

“And how do we do that?” You clenched your hand around something, which you later on realized it was Cody’s thigh, you were holding on. But he didn’t seem to mind at all, not even caring that you would probably leave some bruises there.

“My bag”, you said softly, realizing that what you’re about to offer will be a hell on its own. But either that or bleeding out on your first ever mission. And that was just sad. “You will have to…” A cough stopped you and you cursed feeling a metallic taste in your mouth. Not good, very not good. “You will have to act fast. OK?” He nodded and he opened your back. To your surprise nothing broke there and you happily found what you were looking for. A pair of gloves, a bottle with a silver nitrate solution, you were so glad you decided to prepare. Some swabs, bacta patches and hemostatic dressings that should help the bacta to do the trick.

“Ok, some pay back for sticking my hands into your chest.” He raised his brow and smiled softly, happy to see you still had enough energy for some silly jokes. “First of all, put the gloves on. Then prepare some swabs and then after removing that thing in my body, you will pour the…”

“You just told me not to remove it”, he countered and you sigh, giving him a stern look. You didn’t have the energy to do any of it. You were slowly getting into class three of shock that wasn’t good.

“You will pull that out of me and pour that bottle’s continent on the wound. Do not stop even If I cry and scream. You need to pour at least half of it. You need to do that the second the thing is out of my body.” You looked at him and he nodded, understanding your implication. “You then put the dressing on and patch it up with some bacta. And hopefully it will stick till we get some help.”

“Hopefully?” he raised his brow at you but put on his gloves and started to follow your orders. He has never done anything like that. He wasn’t a medic. He wasn’t trained to do it. Your life depended on him and he hated it. He was supposed to protect you and here you were, lying injured because you saved him. He wasn’t sure you even remember how you pushed him away, when the bomb went off. How without thinking you just jumped to action saving his sorry ass.

He closed his eyes to relax and acted before he changed his mind. He tried. He tried so hard to ignore that hellish scream from you when he poured whatever there was in that bottle. He knew he would dream of nightmares of that scream and part of him knew he deserved it. But he kept on going. He did what you told him to do and when you laid there with your eyes half closed, breathing hard, your face covered in tears, but with the wound sealed somehow and no blood was flowing, he was fine with being the one to bring that scream out of you, if it meant you would survive it.

“Hey, Mesh’la, you OK?” You smiled weakly and nodded. “Ok, I’ll clean that up quickly and we need to go, ok?”

“I need to have a look at your injuries… We need to see if someone…”

“No-one survived.” It was like a slap to your face and you recoiled, feeling your eyes water at that. “It wa s a fucking trap. They knew we were coming and they used civilians to get us here.” He shoved the medical things into your bag, and took it on his shoulder. “I tried contacting the General, but no sign yet.” You looked around again, and sniffed looking at all those bodies laying around.

“I’m a doctor, Cody… I was supposed to save them. I was supposed to do something… I can’t just leave….”

“You couldn’t do anything for them… But you saved my life, if that makes you feel better.” You frowned, and gasped softly, when he lifted you up into his arms. He was so careful with you. It was such a contrast to the hardened soldier he was. “You pushed me away when the bob went off. I will always be in favor of you.” You looked up at his stoic face and hid your face into his chest, letting yourself cry. For real this time.

***

“Have any of them answered?” Obi Wan raised his eyes on his former Padawan and sighed, shaking his head. “Rex has his team ready to go. We will take Kix and Cath with us and we can go search for them.” Anakin looked at his Captain who nodded, ready to go and save his brother. “You can take Rex and go save your men.” The Master smirked and looked at Skywalker, who shrugged. He was a good man. Kenobi knew that Anakin understood. If it was Rex buried there, the young Skywalker would not have been as calm as his Master.

“I should have felt it in the Force much quicker. I should have acted sooner.”

“It’s not your fault, Master!” Ashoka added, frowning at Kenobi. “I don’t think anyone out there would blame you for that, and so you shouldn’t.”

“When did your Padawan become so smart, Anakin?” They both laughed softly and he sighed. “I hope she’s alright. It was her first mission.”

“Cody is there, so there is nothing to worry about, Sir!” Rex said, making the Jedi master smile softly. Yet, the Captain was right. Cody was the best soldier Kenobi knows. If there was anyone who would survive that and protect you, it was him. And so he stood and took his lightsaber from Anakin, ready to save his friends.

***

“I’m sorry Cody”, he looked down and your form crawled at his thighs. You looked so small, so adorable, if only those tears didn’t stain that pretty face of yours, he would be a happy man to hold you so close to himself. Almost losing you made him realize that he was an utter idiot. He should have been honest with you at the base. You two should have talked. And he promised himself, he would not leave your side. He would be your shield. Physically and emotionally. He would let you sleep on him, he would let you wet his armor with your tears. He would let you do anything to him, only if you felt just slightly better. “You lost so many of your brothers and I’m the one who’s…

“You cry for my brothers.” He ended for you, kissing your temple softly, making you freeze. You closed your eyes, enjoying the tender feeling of having him so close. You should not be enjoying it. It was selfish, and yet you couldn't help it. Despite the armor, you could feel the heat of his body. Or was it your body heat you felt? “Not many do that. Not many care enough to share a tear for them. And here you are. Your beautiful eyes puffy after crying so hard for those that were meant to die.”

“I hate when you say that.” He chuckled sadly, and hugged you closer, his cheek on the top of your head. “I wish I would have done more.” And yet it was like a lighting shock. You straightened, hissing in pain. Cody frowned and looked at you in alarm. “Let me see if you’re injured!” He exhaled and couldn’t help but smile.

“You should rest. I don’t know how long that patch will last…” You bit your lip and your hand slowly raised to go through his hair.

“Please, Cody. Let me be useful.” His eyes widened and he once again leaned his forehead to yours. A soft touch, an intimate gesture of the culture he was raised in. A quiet plea and the feelings exchange, of all the things he’s like to say but couldn’t. And so he nodded. And let you. He let you step away from him, keeping a safe hand close to you, just in case. He just sat there and let your small, soft hands take his armor off. Slowly, almost afraid as if your moves would bring any harm to him. If only you knew how different it was. How he yearned to feel you touch. To be cared for by you, with that loving touch of yours. “Can I?” He nodded his head, afraid to say anything. Not sure if he would be able to. “Oh, Cody!” You gasped, seeing his bruising ribs. It was impossible for him not to feel pain. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were more important.” He murmured, not able to look at you. Such a strong Marshal Commander, unable to look at the woman he… yes, he loved, look in the eyes. What shocked him was how easy it came to him. Losing was like a spur for him to realize his feelings. “If I didn’t take care of me, who would save me like you could?” You blushed and smiled shyly at yourself, opening your bag. You carefully cleaned his bruises and the cuts on his cheek and head, making sure to bring him as little pain as possible. “I was scared I’d lost you out there.” You froze and his words, but stayed quiet, letting him say whatever was weightining on his chest. “I never wanted to hurt you. Never meant to be such a jerk. I…” He finally looked up and your heart broke a bit at his sad expression. It was like a mere memory of his actions that hurt him physically. “I was scared, because you were becoming someone so very important to me in such a short time and… I’m a Marshal Commander.” You apologized quietly when he hissed at one of the head injuries, when you put a patch of bacta there. “I’m… I’m supposed to only have War on my mind and yet here I am… I was so scared, when you laid there, unable to move.” You swallowed hard when he softly circled his fingers around your wrist. He brought your hand towards his lips and left a soft kiss there. A lingering touch, you will dream about when that mission is over. “I got scared when I realized that I cared so deeply for you. Back in the base. When I almost kissed you. You told me that love is when you can’t get someone out of your mind. And I keep on thinking of you all the damn time.” Your breath hitched at his admission.

Your shaky hand lowered to take care of his bruised ribs. And you tried to ignore how he shivered at your touch. And you hoped deep inside, that you had the same effect on him as he did on you. You should be a professional, but here he was, half naked in front of you. You tried to focus on your job, but his words shook you. He just admitted that he was falling for you. You swallowed hard, wanting to say something, do something, but you couldn’t. And so, you just wrapped his torso and ribs safely and looked up at him when you finally finished. Happy to know that there was nothing critical.

“Please don’t say all these things, if you’re going to ignore me, the moment we are back.” He flinched at your declaration, and you felt bad, but you needed to know. Needed to be perfectly sure, that if you let yourself dream, hope, then that won’t just crush after all this is over. “I have loved you for so long, so if you…” But you weren’t given a chance to finish. His lips were on you, before you were able to react. You froze, not sure if you were actually dreaming. His lips were softer than you imagined. It was kind of innocent and sweet, as if he was unsure of himself. When you didn’t move, he stepped back and awkwardly started to apologize, but you didn’t give him a chance. You crushed your lips to his, ignoring how your stomach hurt a bit with those sudden movements. But you didn’t care. You were finally kissing the man you have loved for such a long time.

Cody didn’t waste his time. Calloused, soft hands cupped your face, pulling you forward even more. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, licking the bottom of your lip asking for permission to enter. And you let him, because who were you to make him wait. And he doesn’t waste that chance. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a way, a chance to show you how much he adores you. His tongue is gently messaging yours, sensually, taking the time to get to know you.

He pulls away, but doesn’t waste any time, kissing your jaw softly, nipping at it softly, making you gasp softly at his touch. His hands grasp and your waist. Tightly, but enough to hurt you, mindful of your injury. He was so careful with you, so loving. You tilt your head back, wanting more. More of him, more of his warm and hot kisses. You feel him inhaling you and you can’t help but moan softly when he tastes you with his skillful tongue.

“Cody!” You shriek and he laughs, when you playfully pat him on the shoulder when he bit and sucked your pulse spot at your neck, for sure leaving a mark there. “What if someone notices?”

“Let them. They will know who you belong to!” Normally you would never let any man talk to you that way. But with Cody it didn’t feel disrespectful. It was like he was confessing, that at the same time he belonged to you and you almost cried with happiness. “But I have to stop now, cyare.” Your heart skipped a beat with the Mando leaving his mouth. “You are injured and I’m unsure if I would be able to stop myself if we go any further.” He softly kissed your forehead and you blushed at this innuendo. As you were about to say something even remotely flirtatious, a voice could be heard from Cody’s comlink. He quickly turned it on and you felt tears appearing in your eyes when you heard Kenobi’s voice on the other side.

“Cody, report.”

“General!” You could hear the Jedi relaxed sigh on the other side. “You have no idea how good it is to hear you.”

“Are you OK? Is anyone injured?” Your smile dropped and you clenched at your shirt nervously.

“Doc will need medical attention as we had to make do with her injuries.” He held your hand and sighed, readening himself to tell his Jedi the bad news. “It was a trap, Sir. The moment we walked in, the bomb activated. All of my team, including the civilians are gone.” There was silence on the other side. Probably no one expected the news to be so devastating.

“My sincere apologies, my dear. I did realize it was a trap, but…”

“Don’t blame yourself, Obi!” You interjected, hugging into Cody’s (still) bare chest. He raised his brow and you were expecting a similar reaction from the Master on the line as well. It was the first time you said his name like that. “No one could have expected that. We can’t save everyone.” You sniffed softly and Cody, wrapped his arm around you.

“It’s good to hear you”, you smiled when he used your name, instead of the nickname. “You both stay where you are. Rex has traced you, we should be there with two medics to take care of you.” And the line was off and you leaned into Cody, kissing his collarbone softly.

“When we’re back”, he started before Kenobi and the team would come. “I will properly apologize to you.” You frowned, and wanted to deny whatever he thought, but he only kissed you softly at the top of your head and shut you up completely with that sweet move. It was a truly weird feeling. You were so very happy, despite being so devastated at the same time.

***

It took you a whole month of rehabilitation and Kix’ nagging of you staying in bed, before he was remotely OK to let you leave the hospital. Cody was visiting you every day with some sort of a gift. A single flower, a chocolate, a cup of coffee, or a book, you could read to kill the boredom. You both talked, he apologized almost everyday and made sure that he bid you with the sweetest of kisses. You did have a serious talk about where you both saw this going. He promised you that he would do his best to open up to you, but he did ask to give him some time. He never even considered something as stable as a relationship and it was all new to him. And you were more than willing to give him all the time he needed. And so you both decided to take things slow. For the both of you.

So when he didn’t pick you up from the hospital today, you were worried. He was on his leave and he promised he would a week ago. But here you were, walking to your apartment alone. There was this sick feeling in your stomach, which you tried to get rid of. There was probably something holding him up. Something important.

You opened your flat doors and gasped, letting the bag fall from your shoulders to the floor. There he was awkwardly standing, in the middle of the room, with some flowers, a table ready for dinner.

“General Skywalker and Ashoka helped me with it… “ He walked towards you, handing you the flowers. “I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up from the hospital. But I do owe you a first date, don’t I, Cyare?” He leaned forward and pressed a sweet, quick peck on your lips.

“Oh, you are more than forgiven, Commander”.

Tag List: @loving-the-cambridges

#star wars #the clone wars #commander cody #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #commander cody x reader #cody x you #idiots in love #idiots in denial #the clones #star wars the clone wars

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