#dai fanfic: sleepers pt 1

[britcision]

Anyway. This is why I finally put up the Heralds masterpost.

Because this whole idea was conceived and written at various 3ams, and it shows

Cole is just a sweet and creepy little man who likes to share his hobbies with his friends. Hobbies like watching you sleep

**

Sleepers

The first time, Lavellan was already standing over Solas’ sleeping form when Cole wandered into the elf’s bedroom.

Cole wasn’t specifically looking for either elf (although he’d been expecting to find Solas in one form or another), but it didn’t deter him. Not much did, even a direct instruction.

Lluciano glanced over at him for a moment, an acknowledgment that still sat warm and happy in Cole’s chest like sunlight. Then the elf’s bright green eyes returned to Solas’ sleeping form.

Solas liked sleeping. It let him wander into the Fade, travel secret roads and find old mysteries. Cole had always wondered if there was any way to see that in the body left behind.

Moving up beside Lavellan, the two regarded the sleeping elf together.

Maybe that was what Lluciano was doing here too. Lluciano didn’t like Solas as much as Cole did, but for once Cole almost understood that.

Solas didn’t like elves. Didn’t like the Dalish, who clutched at traditions he thought were all wrong, and didn’t like the city elves who’d become too close to human. And he wasn’t shy about showing it.

Solas did like Lluciano though; Luci challenged him, made him think about why he’d given up on all the Dalish. And Lluciano liked the spirits, which was pretty much Solas’ favourite thing about any person.

They’d gotten on much better once Solas stopped trying to speak down to him, but Lluciano hadn’t forgotten. And while he hadn’t been angry, or overly offended, or started a fight over it, there was something in him that was always cold to Solas.

That remembered having to prove against resistance that he was his own person, and should be treated like one.

Cole wondered what that would feel like too. Being so sure in your personhood, being able to put your foot down and demand to be treated in the way you wanted.

Of course, Lluciano wasn’t much good at the latter part yet either, but being around Cadash was a learning experience for both of them. Corin Cadash could put their foot down hard enough to shake Skyhold.

Cole had wandered the bedrooms plenty of times before. He didn’t sleep, and when that was what everyone else was doing, he didn’t have much else to occupy him.

He’d drift around, find the places where people were still up, some of them hot and wanting, others shaking and scared. Some reading, little snatches of stolen time by candle light.

Some just sleeping, lying there completely unaware of anything else in the world. Even less aware of his presence than everyone else, although sometimes they would react to him.

Some peoples’ faces would twitch if he watched them. Some people turned away. Buried themselves in covers, like even if he could hide from their waking selves, he couldn’t sneak past that little sleeping part.

That was interesting too, and Cole very much liked to watch the sleeping part. To see what disturbed them, wonder if it was himself or only their own dreams.

He could hear dreams, sometimes. Mostly the bad ones, the ones that came with shaking, shivering, screaming sounds strangled to silence.

Not Solas’ though. And Cole wasn’t sure if that was because Solas dreamed his way into the Fade, or just the sheer volume of the other hurts Solas always carried inside.

Solas was sleeping deeply tonight. Some nights, his face would twitch too, even in his Fade walking. Some nights he’d almost respond to Cole’s presence.

Cole knew he was much harder to notice than anyone else, than any of the real people who were flesh and not spirits pretending.

Harder than anyone except Lluciano Lavellan. Because the Fade magic in his hand and the sickness in his head had gotten all tangled together, and sometimes even Cole couldn’t see Lluciano.

Sometimes Lluciano didn’t even know he’d disappeared. He would just be invisible, or teleported away by the sudden spasms of a seizure.

So it made sense, really, that Solas hadn’t noticed him. Cole certainly hadn’t, and he didn’t know how long Lavellan had been there before he’d arrived. They could have almost been walking together.

Cole didn’t ask. That wasn’t nice; talking where other people were trying to sleep. He’d been told off for that a lot, now that he was travelling with other people.

He didn’t need to sleep, and could quite happily sit up for most of the night talking to Solas, Lavellan, Cadash, or Varric. Even the Iron Bull talked to him on watches, which was nice even if he was scared.

It made the scared smaller, and Cole was happy with that.

Until someone else would yell at them from the tents and tell them to shut up.

It wasn’t nice to talk when other people were sleeping, or to make noise, so Lavellan and Cole stood in comfortable, companionable silence side by side, both watching Solas sleep.

Neither of them wanted to disturb him. Solas probably needed to sleep more; that seemed inevitable. Most of Skyhold spent a lot of time complaining that they hadn’t slept enough, or longing for their beds.

You might think they would therefore appreciate having Cole’s presence there to watch them sleep, and ward away any loud noises or talking that would disturb them. Most of them didn’t though, so usually Cole made sure they couldn’t notice him.

Tonight, Lavellan was fully visible though, standing at Solas’ bedside as real as could be, so Cole copied him. Lavellan might not have known he was visible, but he usually wanted to be except in battle.

If he’d wanted to be unseen, Cole seeing him would have told him he’d failed. He’d had time to be less seen and hide, and he hadn’t.

So that meant it was probably okay. Solas didn’t like Cole to hide himself anyway; not from him. Solas always said that Cole was a good and gentle spirit, and anything he offered Solas would be grateful for.

It wasn’t what Cole knew was true about himself, but Solas was very sure, and it was nice to believe. Solas would notice if he were becoming a monster, although a deep down part of Cole knew that Solas would never stop Cole from hurting anyone else.

Solas didn’t think other people were worth as much as spirits. Cole couldn’t argue with him; Solas just wouldn’t listen, so there was no point.

Lavellan would. And if he wouldn’t kill Cole himself, he could get Cadash, and Cadash would kill anyone and anything they needed to. Especially if it would hurt Lavellan.

Cole didn’t know if he would hurt Lluciano, but he wasn’t going to assume he wouldn’t. He didn’t know how he’d think if he became a monster again.

But Cadash would stop him, even if they did call him self destructive and dramatic every time he asked, so it was alright. Nothing in the world could hurt Lluciano if Corin was around.

They had a very big shield with a special spring loaded part to make it even bigger just to be sure.

Lluciano wasn’t hurting tonight either. He did sometimes, when his body woke up without him in it and wandered the keep. Cole tried to follow him when that happened, just like when the seizures left him empty.

Tonight though, he was definitely all inside his body. Cole could feel the gentle hum beside him, knew his thoughts were buzzing around, but none of it was hurting.

Cole being there too was helping, which was nice. Just his presence being able to help without talking, or doing anything, or even touching was still a little new.

People knowing him, knowing he was there, and liking that he was there was warm too, soft and sweet like honey left in the sun. Not just the presence of another, the presence of Cole.

He was valued.

Lluciano wanted to touch Solas’ face.

The thought slipped in so softly, so gently that Cole might almost have mistaken it for one of his own, because… well, he did sometimes.

People didn’t like being touched when they were awake, not most of the time. And Cole always wanted to make people comfortable, so he listened solemnly to Josephine’s lectures and always let people touch him first, or tell him how they liked touching.

They didn’t mind when they were asleep though, and all the little skin hungers could be soothed so long as he was gentle enough not to wake them.

Faces especially fascinated Cole. They held onto expressions they weren’t making anymore, all the different lines and wrinkles from smiles and frowns.

He liked to trace them with his fingers, all the marks of past joys and sorrows. To feel them while they were flat and empty. And sometimes to feel the frowns deepen under his touch, lines becoming ridges.

People didn’t like him touching their faces most of all while they were awake, but most of them also needed the closeness of contact. They didn’t touch each other enough either, so touching them while they were asleep worked out best for everyone.

That way they could have the touch and feel better, and not be upset with him.

It was nice to know Lluciano felt the urge to touch too. He glanced over at Cole from the corner of his eye, and that small happy thing in Cole’s chest grew brighter as he realised.

Lavellan knew that Cole knew what he wanted to do. Talking without words, sharing just the feeling and knowing that Cole understood.

If only Cole could send a feeling back. To let Lavellan feel the way he felt, and know that Cole knew about the touching feeling too.

Solas definitely needed to be touched more.

It wasn’t the biggest ache that lingered, hungered under his skin, but it was worse than almost anyone else Cole had ever met.

He didn’t let himself touch anyone, and didn’t let them touch him either if he could help it. He didn’t want to get attached. Cole could understand that; when you got attached to people and they left, that hurt was the worst of all.

There was nothing that could fix it, or help. Just time to make the ache less.

But bodies had needs whether their owners liked them or not, and skin hungered to be touched no matter how much you wanted it not to.

He usually wound up touching Solas when he watched him sleep. Traced the long points of his ears. The harsh lines of his face.

The smooth, shiny skin on top of his head. Like the shell of a boiled egg, Sera said, but Cole had touched lots of eggs and they weren’t as soft. As smooth and with the same gentle give of flesh.

Solas liked Lavellan. He probably would like for Lluciano to touch his face, while he was asleep. Then he wouldn’t have to ask while he was awake.

He would have liked for Adaar to touch his face a lot more, and with her own face, but she wasn’t here. She couldn’t see well enough to watch people in the dark. Solas would have to ask her.

Lluciano was here now though.

Looking back at Lavellan for a moment, Cole did his best to convey his thoughts in his own face.

It didn’t have a lot of lines yet, because he hadn’t been living in it for very long. Varric told him his face was sad, all on its own, and Cole wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.

Lluciano looked at him, then back down at Solas. Back to Cole.

He really wanted to touch Solas’ face.

Cole tried a nod. Because yes, that was for agreeing. Lluciano should touch Solas’ face.

Lluciano grinned, teeth bright and white in the dark, and Cole felt himself smiling back. That was still strange too, the urge to smile when one of the heralds smiled at him.

When Varric smiled at him. Smiles were what happened when the warmth in his chest came up into his face, when he was happy and people were happy with him.

Lluciano was very happy with him, and with him being here. He nodded back, looked down at Cole’s hands.

Oh.

They could touch Solas’ face together. That would probably be even better than them touching his face separately, although they might get in each others’ way.

But then they could be touching each other too, and Cole could show Lavellan the way he liked to stroke along all the lines and wrinkles, and Lavellan would like it too.

Cole knew he would. Lluciano always liked learning about how people worked. And he liked faces, especially pretty ones like Dorian’s and Cullen’s.

They would have to get closer. Kneel down beside the bed together. Very close, shoulder to shoulder, or chest to chest, air warmed between them and sharing the sleeping time.

It was nice, not being alone.

**

A sudden, unshakeable feeling of wrongness snapped Solas abruptly from a deep sleep. Eyes jerking open, it took a moment for them to refocus on the real world, instead of the paths he’d been walking.

He was in his room, at the base of tower. Tucked away from his study. Dark, only the light from a brazier in the hall flickering.

He’d closed the door when he came to bed.

Someone had opened it.

Someone was still there.

Eyes darting about the room, Solas was about to sigh in resignation when he realised that there were two shadowy figures standing over his bed, not just the one.

Eyes narrowing, he pushed himself up on one shoulder and frowned up at the pair. Cole’s long, lanky limbs, as expected. And…

Lavellan.

Lluciano Lavellan was standing with Cole, both of them watching him sleep.

Because of course they were. Why wouldn’t that be another thing for the two of them to bond over. They already liked sneaking around.

Letting out the sigh, suddenly with infinitely more weight and feeling infinitely more tired, Solas flopped back onto his bed, eyes resolutely closed.

“This is not going to be my problem,” he declared firmly, and even his senses, strained in the dark and otherwise silent room at the base of the tower, barely picked up the sounds of the two moving away.

He would have asked Josephine about a lock for his door, if he didn’t already know Lavellan enjoyed lock picking.

Maybe a bucket trap instead.

“The bucket will only fall if I want it to. I don’t want it to disturb you.”

Solas’ eyes snapped open again at Cole’s simple, slightly confused sentence, and Lluciano’s cackling laughter.

He lay in the dark for a long time, but he didn’t sleep again that night.

**

You know it’s a good fic when someone has to keep putting it down because they’re laughing to hard to read it… or maybe that’s the 3am talking, right @ekwolfwood?

I warned you I would be insufferable about Cole

Behold! The master post!

[rorywritesjunk]

For these foamy green hills are but saltwater desert

Richie, Mohji's lion, isn't doing so well. The crew end up at a small island with a dwindling population to seek help and Buggy meets Midori, the mayor who is far more stubborn and trusting with his crew than he can really comprehend.

Rating: PG-13, gonna have smut at some point later though. Warnings: Buggy being obnoxious, of course. I'd call this a fast paced slow burn. It takes the place over the course of the week and days are split into two chapters. There's also some drama and other pirates. A/N: Full confession. I honestly wrote this because I have been watching the anime and Richie is one of the best characters. Do I know a lot about the anime? No. Is some of this chaotic and characters OOC? Of course! It's a fanfic. Is it self indulgent? Hell yes. I had fun writing this and wanted to share it. Also, I wrote this more with anime!Buggy in mind since we don't get to see Richie in the live action. Title comes from the song "Dryad's Promise" by Tricky Pixie.

Chapter 3

Day 2 pt 1

Buggy woke up the next morning to the most horrific screaming coming from the barn. He heard the roaring from Richie, and he quickly threw the covers off his bed and rushed outside wearing just his pants, hoping he wasn’t about to come across something gruesome. Midori couldn’t have seriously gone to see Richie without anyone, right? He knew Mohji was staying in the barn with the lion, but that idiot was a heavy sleeper. He wouldn’t hear Richie wake up, or hear the barn door, and probably wasn’t aware his lion was eating their host.

He ran to the barn as fast as he could, a look of horror on his face as he saw Richie on top of Midori. She was thrashing around underneath him, trying to fight him off, no doubt being stubborn about dying from a lion attack.

But as Buggy got up to them, the screams were now giggles and Richie was no longer roaring but purring, nuzzling his large face against Midori, nearly crushing her into the ground. She was trying to push him off while laughing, grabbing at his ears playfully and giving them a tug.

“You silly cat, get off me!” She insisted as he gave her a face lick before finally getting off her. She stuck her tongue out at him and wiped her face with her sleeve. “C’mon, I know you’re excited. I got a cow in the small pasture around the barn for you.” 

“What the hell is this?!” Buggy shouted, startling them both. Richie hid behind Midori. It was almost comical if Buggy didn’t think he was about to deal with a corpse a few minutes before that. “Y-You could have been killed!”

“I woke up to him yowling.” Midori explained way too calmly as she reached back to rub Richie’s nose. “I guess Mohji is a heavy sleeper, huh? Poor kitty wanted out of the barn so I came down to let him out. I guess he’s already feeling better because he practiced his pouncing on me.”

Buggy couldn’t wrap his brain around this. Richie, that fearsome lion, playfully attacking Midori like he was some little kitten? And she was fine with it? She survived the crushing weight of the large creature and laughed about it. This woman was insane and Buggy wasn’t sure if he could handle an entire week in her home. 

Midori led Richie around the barn and Buggy followed after her. He could see the grass stains and mud all over her nightgown, and there were some leaves sticking out of her hair. Richie perked up seeing the cow in the pasture. The cow wasn’t old enough to be on her last legs, but she had definitely seen better days. Midori opened the pasture gate for him and he crept in, body low to the ground as he began to stalk his prey. She shut the gate and started heading back to the house, Buggy following after her in a stunned silence.

She let him into her house first and put her hand on his lower back to direct him to the kitchen table to sit. Besides sleeping or eating, this was the quietest he had been so far. And to her surprise, he allowed her to touch him, her hand grabbing his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze before she made her way to the stove. He wanted to feel that again, her hand on his bare skin like that, but he shook his head to clear it. No, no. He couldn’t think that way. Instead his hand grabbed hers, and she turned to face him, expecting to see it unattached from his body, but it was him grabbing her, pulling her back toward him as he narrowed his eyes at her.

“You could have been killed.” He told her gruffly. “What would have happened to your village if their mayor was killed by pirates? Huh?”

She didn’t pull away from him, instead focusing her gaze on his eyes. She swallowed heavily and shrugged. “I don’t fear your lion, nor do I fear you. If he had attacked me with intent to kill then it would have happened and your crew could have full reign of this place, doing whatever you please, but since that overgrown kitten trusts me for some reason, as does Mohji, I had no fear of him when I saw him this morning.” She finally pulled away from him. “Why did you come running in a panic?”

“B-Because I didn’t want to have to deal with your corpse first thing in the morning!” He told her angrily, his voice wavering as the adrenaline coursing through his body finally crashed. He fell back into his chair, almost slumping down to the ground if Midori hadn’t caught him and pushed him back into it. She used her body to keep him up, hands gripping the seat on either side of his thighs while she stood between his legs. She carefully moved one of her hands off the seat and reached up to pat his cheek gently. She hoped no one came up to the window or door at that moment because it was certainly an interesting sight. Buggy, shirtless and slumped back in a chair while she hovered over him in just a nightgown. 

“Buggy? Captain?” She asked softly. “You okay? I didn’t mean to scare you, don’t die on me in here from… whatever it is you can die from. Shock, frustration? I don’t even know.” She sighed and patted his cheek a little harder. “C’monnnnn.”

He grabbed her hand and moved it away from his face with an annoyed huff. “Stop that. I’m not dead.” 

Buggy took a moment to realize what was going on. She was almost in his lap. Her one hand was still gripping the side of his chair next to his thigh while her other hand was near his face. She was still between his legs, and he was feeling a bit uncomfortable with how close she was. The nightgown she was wearing was a thin material, he could feel her body heat, almost comforting, but he didn’t want to be that close to her. He pushed her away from him and looked away.

“I’m fine.” He muttered. Midori studied him for a moment, wanting to be sure he really was okay before she went to the stove to heat up some water for coffee. “I’ve been here barely one day and you’ve almost killed me once. Do I have to worry about my life when I’m around you?”

She looked back at him. Was this an attempt at humor and making conversation? Midori opened the cupboard to grab two mugs down from the shelf, but his hand beat her to it, setting them on the counter for her. She shrugged as she made sure they were clean of dust. “Hopefully not. I’ll try not to accidentally kill you by petting Richie or overfeeding you.” She grinned as she looked inside one of the mugs before wiping it again. “No promises, Captain.”

He put his elbow on the table and rested his head in his hand as he watched her. “Y’don’t have to keep calling me Captain… you’re not on my crew.”

“Yea?” Midori grinned. “I can call you Buggy then?”

“Only when we’re alone.” He warned her. “Around the crew it’s still Captain.”

“What about around Richie?” She asked with a cheeky grin. He glared at her and pointed his finger at her, waving it at her as to make a point.

“Even around Richie!”

“Fine, fine.” She chuckled. “I’ll make sure to mind my tongue, Buggy.”

~

The crew had yet to drink the place dry and they had now been there 24 hours. Buggy finally recovered from the morning’s excitement, and he chewed Mohji out regarding keeping a better eye on Richie. The lion had definitely perked up since arriving on the island, and with Mohji’s assistance, Midori had the townsfolk - all 14 of them - come up to meet Richie, with the understanding that he was there to recuperate and he wouldn’t bother them or their animals. 

Buggy stood nearby with his arms crossed, glowering at the group as Midori hoisted a small child up to pet Richie. The lion basked in the attention and Mohji had a huge smile on his face, no doubt relieved at his friend’s improving condition. 

“Okay, that was all, everyone!” Midori announced. “Thank you for coming to the town meeting. I’ll see you at the end of the week for the feast!”

Several of the crew perked up at the mention of the word ‘feast’. They were leaving at the end of the week, would they get to participate? The mayor noticed the way they were looking at her and she laughed. “I’ll make sure we have enough food for you guys as well. It’s a fun thing we do every few months, and it’s even better since we have guests!” She looked over at Buggy. “If that’s alright with you, of course, Captain. I would like to extend an invite to your entire crew for the feast.”

He grumbled and looked away, not making eye contact with any of them, even though the crew was looking at him with the same expression Richie and Mohji gave him the day before about staying on land. “Fine, fine! We’ll come to the feast.”

The crew cheered. Midori smiled. 

~

Buggy took time to explore the island by himself. It wasn’t large by any means and he couldn’t see any way to get lost. There were trees, some hills, and a stream that ran through it from one end to the other. There were birds and small critters that ran about, but no predators, unless he counted Richie who he saw no less than five times, running around the trees excitedly with Mohji nowhere to be seen. Since Midori allowed Richie free reign of the island, it allowed Mohji some time to himself. Buggy didn’t think his first mate needed time to himself, but apparently he did, because he was nowhere to be seen in the forest while Richie sniffed at some birds that were perched on a log.

Buggy sighed and kept walking. 

The mayor was also on his mind and he… he didn’t like that. He didn’t want to think about her. He couldn’t understand her. Why was she insistent on staying on the island even if everyone else left? She mentioned a family was planning on leaving, literally taking away half of the island’s population. What kept her from wanting to leave, and why did it bother him so much?

She was ridiculously stubborn as well, not to mention an idiot from what happened that morning with Richie. She was too trusting around the animal, and far too trusting around Buggy and his crew. They were pirates, they were supposed to be terrifying, but they just got invited to a feast at the end of the week like it was nothing. 

And then being in her nightgown this morning around him, touching him, checking on him, making sure he was okay when she was the one knocked on her back by the giant cat. He hated how warm she felt next to him, and he wondered if she felt that way all the time or was it just from the excitement of the morning? What would it feel like to be skin to skin with her, wake up next to her in bed, touch her-

He stopped in his tracks and slapped his cheeks repeatedly. He was not thinking of someone he just met like that. He let out a frustrated shriek and kicked a rock out of his path. He was supposed to be exploring and relaxing, not thinking about her. She frustrated him, challenged him, and he couldn’t believe how much stubbornness was inside one person. He didn’t want to even have another conversation with her because he would just get frustrated by her again.

Maybe he needed to stay on the ship for the remainder of their stay, but then he wouldn’t get the meals she made, and she was a decent cook. He wondered how she felt about him, though. She said she didn’t fear him, was that true or was it just talk? She seemed more… amused by him than anything, no way intimidated by his actions or how he spoke to her. She just giggled or laughed, and admittedly, he was getting used to her laugh by now. She did it as much as talking.

He hated that he was already getting used to this place after a day.

[silvfyre-writings]

Snapshots Pt. 1 (BSD Fanfic)

Welcome, welcome, because I don't have enough WIPs to focus on apparently, I am bringing another one to the table, but this time, it's a oneshot series, so yay. How many chapters will it be? Who knows, we're just going on a ride until I run out of stories to share or my motivation dies!

The goal of this actually is to help improve my short story skills, so none of the chapters should be over 3k words but uhhhh, it's me, so who knows really.

Anyway, Ranpoe nation, BE FED! And leave a like or comment or a reblog if you enjoyed~

Poe wasn’t a stranger to nightmares.

They’d been a part of his life ever since he was a child, and while they had lessened over the years, they were still frequent enough to ensure that a decent night’s sleep was nothing more than long forgotten memory. The nightmares when he’d been a child had all been about the same thing; glass bottles shattering, and heavy hands throwing him about. But as he’d grown up, they’d slowly begun to change depending on his situation. As a teenager, they’d been about the monsters and demons he wrote about hunting him down and tearing him to pieces. As an adult, after he’d met Ranpo—and after he’d joined the Guild, he’d become haunted by the gifted detective from Japan; dreams of the man he despised so much, taunting, and mocking him. Sometimes his dreams were filled with the faces of the people the Guild killed in their line of work. He may not have killed those people directly, but he was part of the Guild and that was enough to warrant him dreaming about them.

But now things had changed.

He was no longer a member of the Guild, no longer anything really, and he was living in a foreign country far from the land that had been his home for twenty-eight years. But the most major change to his life was that he was no longer alone. Sure, he’d never truly been alone before in the Guild; he’d had Karl of course, but he’d also been comfortable with the quieter members of the Guild to sometimes socialise with them. Well… more like when he was forced into socializing, because for the six years he was with the Guild, most of that time was spent planning for Fitzgerald and plotting his revenge against Ranpo.

And speaking of Ranpo…

If you’d ever told Poe that one day, he’d wind up falling in love and dating the man he’d been plotting to kill for six years, he would’ve laughed in your face. People didn’t fall in love with Poe, he just wasn’t the kind of man to be loved by others, so when his feelings had grown for Ranpo, he’d tried desperately to squash them down, knowing that the other wouldn’t return his own feelings, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin the friendship they’d built in such a short time. But what Poe hadn’t been expecting, was Ranpo to suddenly confess that he liked Poe more than a friend. That’d been a cluster of emotions that Poe hadn’t been ready to deal with, but Ranpo hadn’t given him time to think; he’d just kissed Poe and invited himself into Poe’s home and that was that.

So it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when the topic of his nightmares shifted to Ranpo.

“No!” Poe jerked awake, the cry falling from his mouth before he could stop it, and he lay there, chest heaving and eyes wide. Images from the nightmare he’d just been trapped within flashed across his mind—a distinct false memory of watching Ranpo bleeding out in his arms, the memory is just vivid enough to make him reach out with an arm until it came into contact with the second person in the bed. He lay still for a moment, focused on calming down as his hand rested on top of Ranpo’s still sleeping form, using the rise and fall of Ranpo’s chest to help him slow his own breathing.

He was grateful in that moment, that Ranpo was a heavy sleeper, because it meant that while he lay there, stressed, and panicked after a nightmare, his partner continued to sleep away without a care in the world. Poe let out a sigh and sat up in the bed, scrubbing his face with his hands. There was no way that after a dream like that, he’d be able to go back to sleep, and while he’d love nothing more than to just sit in bed and just watch Ranpo—if only to reassure himself that the other was still very much alive and breathing—he didn’t want to accidentally wake the man.

So, he eased out of bed, and padded across the room towards the study that was attached; his intention was to sit and write until he felt tired enough to sleep again, but it would also allow him to be able to still see Ranpo and keep an eye on him, just like he’d been told to do so by a doctor. With another glance towards Ranpo, Poe sat at his desk and turned on the lamp before dragging some blank papers towards him and began to write, letting the words fall from his mind to the paper where a story began to form.

Poe didn’t know how long he’d been writing for when he heard footsteps behind him, but he didn’t panic when they came to a halt behind him, nor when he felt Ranpo’s arms wrap around his bare shoulders and a chin came to rest on top of his head. Neither of them moved for a couple of minutes, but Ranpo was the first to break the silence; breaking into a coughing fit before he moved to kiss Poe’s temple. “Nightmare?”

Poe sighed, and placed down the pen he’d been writing with, relaxing into Ranpo’s hold. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I woke myself up with this stupid cough.” Ranpo rasped, and pulled away to cough a few times into the crook of his arm. This was why Poe had done his absolute best to avoid waking Ranpo; the detective had been sick with chest infection for a couple of weeks now, so he needed all the rest he could get, something that was hard to do when you consistently woke yourself up with coughing.

“I’ll get you some medicine.” Poe made to stand, only for Ranpo to tighten his grip.

“I’m fine, but you need some more sleep. It’s still early, come back to bed?”

Poe thought about, he really thought about, because he wanted nothing more than to go back to bed and get some more sleep, but all he could think about was that dream he’d had; Ranpo with blood spilling from his lips as he lay there, bleeding out and dying in Poe’s arms no matter how much Poe had begged him to keep holding on. He’d woken up before Ranpo had actually died, because that was just how his nightmares always worked, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying—any less real.

And Poe couldn’t go back to sleep knowing that he might have to live through that again.

“I think I’ll just get some writing done instead, love.” Poe turned his head and brushed his lips against Ranpo’s cheek. “You should get back to bed though, you’re still recovering.”

“And this is the third night you’ve stayed up after having a nightmare.” Ranpo stepped around to the side of Poe’s chair and tugged at his hands until Poe was standing. Ranpo moved closer and squeezed his hands, looking up at Poe with concern on his face. “Tell me what it was about?”

Poe shook his head and dropped his gaze. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it involves you.”

Ranpo stood there, visibly thinking for only a few seconds before his face softened even more, and he began to guide Poe back towards the bedroom, slowly and carefully, like Ranpo is afraid that he’ll spook if they move any faster. “I’m not going anywhere, Edgar. I’m right here, talking to you, and still breathing. Nightmares are scary, but you can’t let them win.”

“It felt so real though.” Edgar tried to argue.

“Of course it did, that’s what nightmares are good at.” They had arrived back at the bed now, and Poe watched as Ranpo crawled back under the covers, holding them up and staring at Poe expectantly. Poe shifted uneasily and sighed, giving in to Ranpo’s silent demand and returned to bed. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep, but he also knew that if he hadn’t returned to bed, Ranpo would’ve kicked up a fuss and his partner was supposed to be resting, so it was just easier to give in. Poe made to pull Ranpo into his arms like he usually did when they went to sleep together, only to suddenly find himself being the one held.

Poe blinked as Ranpo wrapped his arms around his waist and buried his face between his shoulder blades. “Ranpo…?”

“I cling when I’m sleep, so if you have another nightmare, you’ll wake up being held by me. It’ll help you feel less afraid if you wake up and can feel my warmth, my heart beating, all that sappy stuff, ya know?” Ranpo explained with a cough. “And before you worry about waking me, remember I sleep like the—I sleep heavy. I won’t wake up if you do.”

Poe smiled, and relaxed into Ranpo’s hold. He did know, and he appreciated it. Exhaustion danced at the edges of his mind, and he closed his eyes, shuffling closer towards Ranpo to get comfortable. He listened closely to Ranpo’s breathing, listening as it slowly evened out as his partner drifted back to sleep, his hold on Poe loosening, but still warm. It’s that comfort, that allows Poe to snag onto the vestiges of sleep that have been taunting him since he first awoke, and drag them towards himself.

Sleep comes easy for him this time, knowing that if he does wake again in fear, that Ranpo will be there to remind him it’s not real.