Moonbeam: A Timeline series companion

fic requests (3)

wow, people really liked the fic requests! i had fun doing them too so, uh, yeah, here ya go.

Hand Holding for Darkstalker and Clearsight (Post-war, human AU, everything else is the same)

Ok so right now I have Actual Writing to do but I'm running on seven hours of sleep (i love travelling) and the next, like, four hours to myself and it has been A Day and I miss them. Anyway have some hurt/comfort. Human AU because idk, I wanted to.

Next-day-post-editing-addition to this note: sometimes when i'm tired i write the most nonsensical things but this goes so hard actually. yes this is absolutely a weird, twisted metaphor for some stuff i'm going through. the reason these two are so comforting to me in part is because they've become this weird outlet for my internal dialogue, and especially these conversations feel like a means of talking to myself. but that's always what love stories have been to me, and at the core of every single one i've written, that theme is always there. I don't love myself the way these two love each other, but I'm trying, and sometimes it helps to remind myself what that  might look like.

the next therapist i see, i may as well just hand them this series and tell them to figure it out. ANYWAY.

Darkstalker

I find my wife crying in the bathroom mirror, water dripping down her cheeks. The faucet is running, hot enough to steam up the room. Her eyes are stained red from crying, hair tangled up and messy.

She adjusts the water temperature with shaking hands. "It's not right," she whispers. "It's not right!" She chokes, a sob wracking through her chest. She slumps into the floor, burying her face in her hands.

I turn off the water and sit down beside her, wide awake--but not too close.

"What's going on?" I look over to meet her eyes. I think I have never seen her look so destroyed. "What's wrong?"

"It's stupid," she whispers, running her fingers through knotted curls. "I'm being stupid. I'm--"

"What can I do?" I inch closer, cautiously taking her hand in mine, smoothing out her clenched fist. "What's happening?"

She buries her face in her knees, and starts to cry harder. I rest a hand on her back, tracing slow circles down her spine, and ever-so-gently press a kiss to her half-exposed shoulder.

"Hey. You're here. We're okay.  Whatever's going on--it's over now." I tell her the same thing I tell myself, every day. "I'm here and you're alive and--and our kids are okay. No one can hurt you here. I won't let them."

It's been months, and she still sleeps with that knife tucked under her pillow, and doesn't leave the house without it. When we leave the house. Which hasn't been often at all.

"And we shouldn't be. We shouldn't--we got off easy. We didn't lose any of our kids, we didn't--"

"We did not get off easy, Clearsight," I interrupt her, brushing a thumb over the scars winding their way up her arms. "Don't ever say that."

"Something's going to make us--make us pay off our debt. There'll be another war, someday. And when it comes, I'm gonna lose you. I'm not gonna be lucky again. Because I can't get it right. I can't--"

"There's not going to be another war." I promise myself it's true, ignoring the uneasy churn of paranoia in my gut. "Darling, look at me." I cup her chin in my hands and tilt her face up so she meets my eyes. "We're--we're gonna prevent it. From ever happening again. There are good dragons in charge of this kingdom now. There's the new alliance. There's--"