#bleeds so nicely | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

feroluce · 30 days

Text

Lucid Dreamer (1/2)

part 2

Gepard notices that it's been. Quiet lately. Like weirdly quiet. TOO quiet. He hasn't seen Sampo Koski in almost a week, which is about the longest he's ever been absent. And he is NOT worried. He's not! So what if they've been getting along more lately! So what if Gepard sometimes looks for him in his favorite hiding places! So what if he's been dreaming about blue hair and green eyes! It's nothing!!

But they're….strange, these dreams. Gepard doesn't usually remember what he's dreamt. It's out of his mind seconds within waking up. But these stick with him, they won't leave him be, they feel different somehow.

He dreams of Sampo bringing food to the frontlines and eating breakfast in his tent with him. Sampo always sneaks him extras. He dreams of chasing Sampo through the alleyways, Sampo sometimes letting himself be caught, Gepard sometimes catching him, and trying to ignore how it feels more like a game now more than anything else. He even dreams that Sampo tags along with him on one of his few civilian days. Sampo runs errands with him, prattles about inane bullshit while Gepard picks out groceries for the week, drags Gepard into some bakery he's never been to but he thinks Serval mentioned once.

And sometimes, it feels so close to reality, that Gepard half expects to see Sampo, shamelessly swaggering into the frontlines with all the guards' breakfast like his wanted poster wasn't only recently taken off the walls of Belobog. He's disappointed when it's always someone else instead. He tells himself his disappointment is ridiculous and if Sampo wants to go prowl around the Snow Plains or wherever he is, then fine. It's not any of his business.

…But it IS his job to investigate any unusual criminal activity relating to the frontlines. And the frontlines are Sampo's usual haunting grounds, and this is unusual activity, and Sampo IS technically a criminal, so it is absolutely part of his duty to look into this - is what Gepard tells himself the entire tram ride down into the Underground.

Natasha tells him he's gone, and Gepard has to steel himself. He knew Sampo made enemies wherever he went, there are a lot of people who would love his head on a platter, but he didn't think-

Natasha corrects him that she means literally gone. As in off-planet. Sampo always leaves her a note before he goes anywhere, so she knows not to expect any supply runs from him. He should be back in exactly two weeks. Thank the Preservation.

Gepard goes back home. He waits.

The uneasiness doesn't leave him.

"Where did you go?" Sampo stops dead in the middle of some story about Seele, and how you'd think someone with as blunt a mouth as her wouldn't have so much trouble asking a woman out, even if that woman IS the Supreme Guardian, and stares at him. He nearly fumbles his cigarette.

"Ahaha, what do you mean, I'm right here?" Sampo smiles at him the same way he always does. Gepard has no idea why he asked. It just popped out. He can never tell when Sampo is lying, anyway.

"I don't know. I feel like I haven't seen you in a long time." Gepard idly mouths at his own cigarette. He almost never smokes, but he wants to ration their stocks of Blizzard Immunity, and it helps with the cold. It's seemed colder lately, for some reason.

Gepard flicks his lighter once, twice, sighs at the third time because a metal prosthetic and thick gloves make the damn things so difficult. Sampo reaches over and wordlessly kisses the end of his cigarette to Gepard's, lighting it. "Thank you."

Nothing happens for almost a full 30 seconds. Something churns behind Gepard's ribcage. Because Sampo never leaves a "thank you" hanging. This is the part where he gives his spiel about how helpful and kind he is and Gepard either brings up how long his rap sheet was before Bronya helped clear his name, or just stares deadpan because seeing Sampo squirm is weirdly satisfying.

"…I'll be back in one more week."

Gepard jolts awake in his cot, mouth dry and eyes bleary.

The hell.

The next dream he has, Sampo looks tired. Sometimes he seems normal. Sometimes he says strange things, like how he wishes he'd gone to some restaurant in Belobog. Ate his favorite food more recently. Brought something with him. Gepard asks why he can't do that now. Where would he bring something? Sampo only shrugs. His rebuttals have less energy.

Gepard doesn't know if he wants to dream more, or less.

He ticks down the days on his calendar. Natasha hasn't told him any different. She promised she would if she got any kind of message. Sampo returns tomorrow, from whatever vacation or seedy business dealings he's been off having. He is not excited about it. He is not looking forward to it. He's not!!

Gepard falls asleep late that night, unable to settle. He dreams again.

He's alone. There are tons of people everywhere, the frontlines are always crowded. But he's alone. They all pass right by him as though he were a ghost. Gepard starts to walk before he realizes his feet are even moving.

He checks the trashcans in the dead end alley. He checks the supply crates that someone always stacks too high because they don't feel like finding more space for them. He pauses to check the soldiers that march past him, watching their footprints in the snow.

He finally finds Sampo on the rooftop along the northernmost wall, the one that looks out over the plains, towards Everwinter Hill, towards where the Stellaron had once been kept. With a full moon and an entire land of white snow, Gepard can almost see clear out to the horizon.

"Found you." Sampo stiffens, and Gepard is almost prepared for him to sprint off the roof. He doesn't. But he doesn't relax either. Gepard sits down next to him and stares out at the wastelands.

"…I fucked up." It wasn't what Gepard had been expecting. Sampo never 'fucks up,' Sampo just gets into incidents that are entirely, supposedly, not his fault and that he just happens to always be within the vicinity of.

"What did you do now?" It must be really bad if Sampo is coming to the Silvermanes for protection.

Instead, Sampo ignores his question completely. "See out over there? Right on the other side of that mountain. There's a safe house that way. It's hidden under a lot of snow and dead trees, but it's there. And in that safe house is a box full of letters. I need you to deliver those letters for me."

Gepard's brow furrows. It's a weird favor to ask. Sampo would never tell anyone where his hidden safehouses were. It defeated the whole purpose of a hidden safe house.

Something is wrong, something is really really wrong.

Gepard turns back to look at him again and startles, all of his questions dying in his throat, because the entire left side of Sampo's head is suddenly matted down, dark and sticky, his skin is dyed red red red-

"In three more months, there's gonna be something big happening." Gepard grabs Sampo's hand and it feels slick and warm against his palm. "I won't be here. So I need you to do my end of things for me." Gepard tries to keep hold, but something is fading, something is slowing, the sun is coming up but the colors are all wrong, everything feels like encroaching fog, Sampo's hand slides right through his. "I was gonna come back with my mask to finish setting the stage, but…" Gepard makes a frantic grab for Sampo's wrist, the air twists, he comes back empty-handed. "They have you. And you're the Iron Wall of Belobog. So it'll be ok."

Gepard finally manages to find his grip, snatches the front of Sampo's dark wet jacket and yanks him forward to hold onto him, and this close up, he can see it better, his colors are bleaching out, leaking outside the lines as if Sampo will become part of the background, as if he's fading into the strange fog that's been closing in on them. His fingers are already starting to feel empty again.

"Wake up."

Gepard jolts awake, uncurls his hands from where they're fisted in the blanket, scrubs the dampness off his face. Breathes. Breathes. Breathes. Today is supposed to be the day.

He throws on his civilian clothes, and he goes down to the shipyard the IPC had built. He finds a spot where he can see every person that returns to Belobog, and he waits.

And he waits and he waits and he waits.

No one he recognizes appears.

#sampard #gepo #hsr gepard #hsr sampo #gepard landau #sampo koski #honkai star rail #hsr #blood #my fics #lucid dreamer #there was more to this but it didn't feel right included here so part 2 tomorrow maybe?#I just think Penacony being the land of dreams presents some FASCINATING possibilities like showing up in other people's dreams #the end of masquerade duet killed me just beat me dead #Sampo going through all this trouble just to protect Belobog...#poor Ray got such an earful that night haha #In the Penacony dreamscape someone can change their appearance however they want but I think in this case where one of the dreamers AREN'T-#-on Penacony it would take more concentration to keep that illusion up #and if someone were say. hurt and badly bleeding. it would start to fall apart eventually as they lost their concentration.#but oh my heart #Sampo being away and missing Belobog so badly he shows up in his friends' dreams just to do the same mundane shit they always do...#He probably showed up to everyone #he sat around and kept Natasha company in her clinic. he pestered Seele until he provoked her into asking Bronya on a date.#he played one last song with Pela and Serval. he told them he'd always kept his old bass guitar.#he took Hook out on one last joyride on his scooter and he even let her sit up front and steer like she'd always wanted.#and he stood around to shoot the shit with Gepard #he got to go do things like run domestic errands together with him. as if they could have been something more than what they were at the en #it was nice to get the chance to do all that #it was nice

68 notes · View notes

starsignchaser · 12 days

Text

Evan felt the wall of heat behind him before he felt the throb of his head. For just a second he got to pretend like he wasn’t going to have to nurse one hell of a hangover today.

Wincing, he attempted to squish his face directly into his pillow. Maybe if he tried hard enough to avoid the rising sun he could put off the inevitable for just a little while longer. Plus, it would be nice to get to spend a few more hours wrapped up in Barty, warm and comfortable and in their bed.

However, it seemed Barty had other ideas.

“Rosie… I don’t feel so good,” came a grumbling whisper from behind Evan’s left ear. In the next second, Evan felt the other man go stiff before bolting out of bed and running down the hall to the bathroom.

Evan half-grimaced, half-laughed, feeling bad for Barty while still taking a little joy in him being the one to spew his guts. They had basically gone shot-for-shot the night before, until Evan tapped out, leaving Barty to do nothing but crow about how it was him who had out-drank Evan. Serves him right for being a sore winner.

Before Evan had even finished debating the merits of getting up to go rub Barty on the back while sitting on the bathroom floor, the brunette himself returned, standing in the doorway to their bedroom. He learned his shoulder against the doorjamb and squinted at Evan.

“You look like you just rose from the dead.”

Barty snorted before wincing at his own loudness, “Yeah, I feel that way too.”

He made his way back to the bed slowly, not taking his eyes off of Evan. With Barty’s escape, the sheets had been rumpled in a way that left his bare back lay exposed with his face peeking over his shoulder.

“You brushed your teeth right? I’m not letting you back in here if your breath is rank.” Evan questioned, trying to sound serious even though he knew he could never turn Barty away.

“Nice and minty fresh, just for you, baby,” Barty said, winking and showing his teeth.

As Barty got closer, Evan went to lay on his back from that only made the other man frown.

“No, no, stay like that. I want to hold you.” Barty said, basically pouting, making Evan roll his eyes.

“You can still hold me if I’m facing you. Plus, this way I get to see your face.” he responded, trying not to think about the blush rising to his cheeks. He needn’t worry though because he could see Barty soften at his words.

The two came together under their big warm duvet, Barty on his back with Evan curled into his side, and the blond moved to rub some of the chill out of the others arms. Meanwhile, Barty started tracing little shapes on Evan’s shoulder. He probably thought Evan wouldn’t realize what he was writing, but Evan could always tell.

Mine

Smiling to himself at his boyfriend's antics, he was surprised to feel the soft press of lips to his forehead.

“What was that for?” he whispered, turning his curious gaze up. He was surprised to see Barty looking down at him with almost anxiety in his eyes.

“Rosie,” Barty trailed off, looking like he was struggling to find the right words. Evan was always patient for him.

Another press of lips to his forehead, almost like he couldn’t help himself. Holding himself there for a few seconds, breathing in deep and letting it go, tickling Evan’s scalp slightly.

“You know, right?” came the words, finally, pressed into Evan’s skin.

They didn’t talk about it. They didn’t sit down and go through the formalities of it all. They were Barty and Evan. They had been inseparable since they met, best friends and thick as thieves from day one. And they grew and changed and became even more. Together. But they didn’t talk about it.

That didn’t have to.

“Yeah, B.” Evan whispered back, moving up to meet Barty’s eyes. “I know.”

“You… good. That’s good.” came the almost nervous reply, like the dark-haired man couldn’t believe his luck in being understood.

“And,” a pause, “you know about me too, right? B, you gotta know,” Evan said, moving to lay his hand on the others’ cheek, pulling him in.

“I know, Rosie, I know. I promise,” replied Barty, wrapping his arm even tighter around Evan’s shoulders.

Laying their foreheads together, wrapped in each other's heat, the pair slowly drifted back to sleep.

#i just wanted these two boys soft and in love because yes they are great when their biting and bleeding but like I love them like this too!!#rosekiller #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #rosekiller fic #mauraders #emily writes #i have not written a single thing of fanfic in ten years so pls be nice to me thank you :))))))

47 notes · View notes