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ellieslittleburrow · 2 months ago

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Resuested by @outof-spite : was wondering if you could do a winchester bros & little sister! reader where theyve been arguing constantly lately, and reader is usually combative and always argues back but, this time shes just over the arguing so she just gives up trying to argue with them and kinda goes mute?

Warnings : family fights, yelling

Pairings : Sam/Dean Winchester x sister!reader

A/N : Sorry for the late postt ❤️❤️

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Things happen, right? Misunderstandings, judgement, reproaches and blame, all of them, the worst thing that could happen to a family, more importantly-right now-to yours.

Back from a hunt gone bad, you heavily lay in the backseat of the impala, your feet hung over the left window while your head rests over the opposite side of the car.

"Hey-get your feet off my damn leather." A complaint you've heard one too many times, and one you usually fight but- this time, as a sigh leaves your lips, you uncross your legs and bring them down, consequently lifting your upper body to sit up. An avertion from your side that's different from your usual habits, causing the car to fall into heavily loud silence.

And although it is loud with almost audible thoughts and anger, you still enjoy that while it lasts.

And it fucking doesn't last, in fact, just as soon as you entered the motel, another sentence commenced by Sam sent Dean into a fury, and just as things heated up, you found yourself in the middle of it all-again-

"Hey!!-" The shout is directed at you, this you know and choose to disguard. You would answer but- your body is fatigued and so is our mind, answering seems to lead to no vail. You answer, he fights you, you all go to sleep and wake up forcebly normalizing things, as if your throats aren't sore and your brains aren't fried.

"Hey-i'm talking to you-"

The words sound more bitter this time around, and you find yourself reluctantly lifting your gaze up . You look at Dean, slow and undetermined, exhausted.

"I asked you why you did that-You could've waited for us. I know you said there was no time le-" Dean pauses. "And fucking answer me when i talk to you-"

You shrug, causing a choking gasp out of Dean. His eyes widen and he leans forward. "Are you-Is she provok-are you-"

You throw your jacket over the bed, disdain discerned in your every move and you flop on the bed, unaware of the sudden tension that-again- suddenly settles in.

But the thing is--You don't care anymore. You haven't enough energy to get you to fight them once more, neither to explain or defend yourself. Too damn fucking tired is what you are at the moment-Too damn tired of it all.

"Kid?"

You rest your hand over your forehead, closing your eyes in an effort to soothe your aching muscles, and maybe suck in a little more patience.

"Kid."

Your stomach tightens and soon, you'll recess into a bawling mess, so you get off the bed and pick up your jacket.

Please don't lead to another fight, please..You just want it all to be ov-

"What's wrong?"

You shrug once more, shaking your head to motion that all is fine before heading for the door. But Sam comes your way, blocking the door and you blow a long sigh.

"Come here"

Sam grips both of your arms and swiftly-you find yourself glued to his chest. But all happens all too fast-why would he suddenly get all feely- and before you even realize it, you find yourself pushing against him.

"'im sorry-i'm sorry."

A lump builds up in your throat and as flashes of the past few weeks occupy every single space in your brain, your breathing increases-just as it gets harder to breathe. Just the thought of it all_

Your eyes are slowly flooded with warmth, announcing the tears gathering at your eyes. You need to leave. You need to go.

You choke on a sob.

You can't do this anym- "I know, honey. I've been there. I know." And with that, another sob loudly escapes your throat and a whimper follows.

"i've been there with Dad, i didn't realize we were doing that to you-i'm sorry. I see you. I really am sorry."

You shake your head as your cries fill the room, getting increasingly louder the harder Sam rubs your back. But that's not what you need. Not for them to see you-but for them to fucking stop.

"We'll stop. We'll talk. I promise."

You pull away from him, skeptical of a promise you doubt he can hold. And just as you're about to process that, Dean speaks.

"I'm sorry too." His honest tone makes you sigh. This isn't.what.i.want.

"Sam and i are sort've used to it- we lost sight of the fact that it wasn't affecting just us, but you as well. I really am sorry." Sam looks into your eyes and you slightly lean back, averting your gaze.

"It must've been really stresstful for you the past few weeks." Taken aback by his words, you pull your chin away from his hand and turn around, wiping at your tears before resting your hand against your forehead.

"we're sorry, kid."

You shrug, still mistrusftul. Mistrustful but hopeful. Because Sam and Dean are different, fights and bad things might accure but no matter how disconnected from each other they might be, they always come back to each other. And you are no different. You know them well enough.

Your silence is apprehended as anger. "Okay..We understand, we'll leave."

But it's not anger and it's most certainly not hatred. So you envelop Sam again and bury your face in his chest.

Maybe that'll be enough for him to understand?

His surprise manifests through his still figure. "Thank you, honey." That surprise quickly dissipates and he hugs you back. "It..."

"it's going to be okay, honey. We'll make it okay."

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I hope it isn't too cringe or too cliché because like-who would say sorry in under a minute. But yeah anyway much love sorry byyiii 🍁🍁🍁❤️❤️❤️

#sister!reader #sibling fic #sister x brothers #winchester sister #daughter x father #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader #adoptive father troop #daughter!reader #father figure fic #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister #sam winchester x sister reader #baby winchester #sister reader #sister fic #spn fics #protective brothers #overprotective brothers

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jweekgoji · 8 days ago

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Can you do another part of yandere D-16, please 😭 I love the stories so much! Make us pleasure him so bad until he's wimpering, then tons of aftercare! And make us love him, not just a one-night stand 😭

Yandere!D-16/Reader

tw: some minot changes in canon, slight yandere themes, valve fingering (MDNI), gn!reader, D-16 has a valve, sub!D-16, soft dom!reader, power dynamic cogged!reader/cogless!d-16. word count: ~1650 a/n: this can be considered as a second part to this. but I think (??) it also can be related to this. probably somewhere between the other two I wrote before. there are a few similar requests about d-16, but I want to do all of them differently as much as my creativity lets me. tagging since I was asked: @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main

The day D-16 met you felt like experiencing one of those vivid dreams he constantly had. His whole body was in pain; the loud ringing in the processor made his optics see the tiny stars circling around him in the air. Thank you, Pax, this is exactly how he wanted to spend his day! And totally not to ogle your sleek, shiny alt mode from his seat..!

Oh no, oh, Primus. You probably saw it all too, aren't you?

D-16 groaned in pain as he tried to sit up. He leaned his frame against the wall, holding onto the dented shoulder. Orion left him waiting here, all alone, as the blue-and-red mech tried to endlessly explain the situation they were in. The optimism this guy sometimes had...he can only pray in his mind that somehow you hadn't seen him failing on the race.

Maybe you had never noticed him, just passed through without paying attention. Yeah, this is more like true. After all, he's so gray in every sense of the word; among all the other miner bots, how is he any different? Too small in this world to be noticed.

The day was a disaster of any means. The cold looks he received from other racers as he waited for the repair, that awkward meeting with Sentinel, and of course, Darkwing just had to be there too. The moment Orion and him leave this area and go back to mines, there's no escape from their supervisor. How much more lucky does he get today again?

D-16 was nervous to the core of his spark. The thoughts of “Why did I even follow him...especially on the day when Sentinel Prime arrived?” or “I hope they don't know it was me” flooding his mind.

Another worst thing was, you hadn't even won the race! Chromia got before you just in mere seconds, and the possibility of him, being the reason behind this fail only made D-16 sigh in disappointment.

“You and your friend put on quite a show today,” your voice suddenly came from beside him.

D-16 almost jumped up from his seat at the sight of you, and for a moment, his spark stopped beating. He barely had time to process what you told him before suddenly, the little miner rises to his feet and looks up at you with those big optics.

You saw that his mouth was open, but not a single word came out from his mouth. The poor thing was so scared, he had so many thoughts running through his head, but he couldn't pick a single one to voice it to you. You could only calm him down slightly by holding your hands in the air, trying to show that you didn't mean any malice.

“I'm sorry, I probably ruined your chance of winning this race,” his optics ran his eyes around as if he was trying to find the right words to say to you. “I'm a big fan, and I would never want-”

“I was going to say that you two actually made this race a little more interesting than usual,” you interrupted him. “Racing against the same bots isn't as interesting as it used to be. I admire that.”

You admire him. D-16 falls silent again, but even though he's stopped saying anything then, his optics perfectly captured all the thoughts in his processor. Love.

He never thought he'd ever meet a bot in a higher position than him who would treat him with a speck of kindness. That brief moment when the Sentinel shook his hand was the first such occasion. His idol, standing right next to him, shook his hand. Somebody pinch him harder!

Then there was you. Someone who had always held a special place in his spark. So small, incredibly fragile in your hands, but every time D-16 is near you, it beats so hard, as if your mere presence is enough to give him more strength.

He doesn't know what you see in him. He's an ordinary and insignificant miner, there are hundreds if not thousands like him. Even Primus didn't give him any bright colors.

He never had a chance to think about standards of beauty, certainly there was barely enough time to rest after hours of non-stop work. There were one time he could hear the conversation between the supervisors as they discussed the celebrities of Iacon. Blurr, Windblade, Rosanna, they all just glowed in relation to the dull, battered frames of his coworkers, definitely not the ideal of beauty that exists on Cybertron.

And yet, here you are, right next to him, and your hands are holding him so gently, so close to your chassis. He moans softly as you move your fingers inside him. Only two, no more, no matter how often he begged and whimpered for you to add another, you always denied him.

“Just relax and feel every touch from me,” you kiss the corner of his mouth softly.

Right. Calm down, D. You're already giving him too much time, begging you for more would be wrong, he doesn't want to seem pushy to you. If this continues, you'll just get disappointed in him and walk away.

“Mgggh...!” D-16 instinctively arched his back. A loud, needy moan once again escapes his lips.

Sometimes he feels like, aside from your obvious charm, you can definitely read his mind, and your every slightest movement is calculated to make him forget his rank.

He's so wet, the lube coating your fingers and already managing to slowly flow down his inner thighs. For a second, you think about just flipping him over on his back and burying your head between his legs, making him scream and beg to give him a break from the endless round of overloads you're giving him.

But no, that would be too much for the first time, wouldn't it? You don't want to scare the poor, little miner away with your twisted thoughts. Not now, anyway.

In the time it takes you to give yourself to daydream, D-16 only gets more impatient. Moving his hips, he practically fucks himself with your fingers. His head is thrown back, and the servos cling tightly to your shoulders, squeezing gently, each time he lowers his own body down.

He feels so full, but that small, carnal desire for more can't help but pollute his mind. More, more, please give him more. Perhaps because of a sliver of fear that you're about to leave again, he'll be left alone and with nothing, and all he'll have are memories. He wants to get as much as he can while there's still a chance.

“Careful, or you'll hurt yourself,” you gently lay your other servo on his waist.

Tiny. You can't help but want to run your finger over every little bump on his body, every little rough edge...something about him fascinates you, that slight naivety and eagerness to make you proud. He's just hard to say no to.

You gently guide his movements. He's inexperienced, but the desire for something more, even though he hardly knows what he's doing, clouds his mind. You feel his tight, small valve squeezing your digits like a vise. His initially quiet, needy meows grow louder, and by the little blush on his cheeks, you realize he's embarrassed.

“Can I overload? Please,” he whimpers shyly, hiding his face in the curve of your neck. “Ahhh...I'm so sorry, I can't take it anymore.”

How sweet. You've convinced him so many times that it's okay, he shouldn't have to keep hiding his pretty face every time you hold him like this. You don't care what position he takes, miner or not, you want him to feel like an equal. He deserves to be pleasured just as much. To love and be loved.

You nod, making a mental note to talk to him about it later. His habit of pleasing bots ranking above him just kills you.

D-16 wraps his arms around your neck, leaning slightly closer, as much as he can. He so wishes it was your spike instead of your fingers, stretching his valve with every thrust.

But he'll never admit it, he'd rather take whatever you offer him, because he loves you so much. Every touch from you, every glance in his direction, it's all so overwhelming.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you-” he repeats over and over, his hips desperately meeting every thrust of your fingers inside him.

You feel him squeeze your digits again, his breathing halting for a moment before he exhales heavily and then nearly collapses on top of you.

D-16 leans his forehead against yours, closing his optics to slowly gather his thoughts. You barely move your fingers, still deep inside him, and even a slight twitch earns a whimper from him. Still very sensitive, you should definitely work on his stamina.

You gently take his chin, tilting his head up to give him a small kiss. He moans softly, but reciprocates the kiss.

D-16 has never seemed plain to you. Unusually strong despite his height and lack of t-cog, his body covered in many scratches after cycles of hard work. But now you are treating him with such care.

He cherishes it so much. Sometimes he wonders if you have any idea how many times he's touched himself, with you in mind? How an embarrassingly lot of pictures of you he keeps plastered all over the wall? I guess that's a question for another day.

You may not have won the race, but you got more than that today.

#yandere x reader #yandere d-16 x reader #yandere megatron x reader #megatron x reader #d-16 x reader #transformers one x reader #transformers x reader #yandere transformers #yandere transformers one #tw yandere

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tw1l1te · 7 months ago

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Stay with me

Sal Fisher x Reader

This is the long awaited sequel to blueberry! I'm finally getting back into my Sally Face phase for a bit, so I hope y'all enjoy this one! <3

Tagging: @atashi-najimi, @kofiwuzhere , @kaldwiner, @zc000ter , @night-shadowblood-writes2

🪐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

You never thought you'd come back.

You'd accepted it years ago, on that fateful night on the roof of Addison Apartments.

And yet... you found yourself driving back the familiar road, passing by a sign that read "Welcome to Nockfell!"

Finally seeing the decaying beuilding ahead of you, you ease off the gas pedal, parking on the side of the road closest to the complex. You were only here to pick up some of your father's old things, as he passed about a year ago, you not getting the chance to get his things until now.

Shutting the door, you reluctantly made your way down the main path, hands nervously twitching against your legs. Even after all this time, the eerieness never left. You open the main door, the hinges creaking at the movement. They clearly haven't been greased in a while.

You look to your right to see the mailboxes, room 403 having letters and notices practically bursting out the tiny metal box. Using your key, you unlock the tiny door, letters and papers spilling out onto the floor. With a sigh, you lean down and start picking up papers, halting when you see a letter from a very familiar person.

Sal Fisher.

You shove the letter into your jacket pocket, opting to read it after you make it into your own father's apartment. Hopefully the elevator still worked.

Taking out your keycard, you slide it against the card reader and press the button, not having to wait long for the elevator doors to open. You hum softly as the elevator shakes a bit, the old creak making the place feel ancient. If you weren't used to the apartment's "charm", you probably would've had a heart attack in here.

Once you reached the fourth floor with a soft ring, the doors creaked open, allowing you to step out and quietly walk over to 403. A gnawing thought comes up in your head, the question of whther or not Sal still lived here, much less in Nockfell. Perhaps his dad was still around?

No matter, you had things you needed to do. Being back here was already doing a number on you, the impending gloom and decay clouding your emotions.

Unlocking the door with a click, you walk into your old home.

So many memories come flooding back, the scent of old smoke and lumber making your eyes tear up slightly. It's been a while.

Sighing heavily for the millionth time that day, you walk in and try to flip the lightswitch, the dull yellowed light flickering to life. You walk into your dad's old room, the room being slightly cluttered, though you knew he was never the type to keep it perfectly pristine.

You took about two hours to organize and pack up your dad's belongings, finding some old photos of him and you when you were in your highschool years. There were some photos with the gang, a particular birthday photo making you smile.

It was your 17th birthday party, taking place in this very apartment. You had invited all of your friends from your small friend group, all of them smiling and laughing in the photo. All of you were at your tiny kitchen table, a circular cake with candles right in the middle. You were in the middle of blowing out your candles, the photo capturing all of your happiness and surrounded by the people you love.

You look at Sal in the photo, smiling at how he was looking at you. His eyes were glued to you. You remember clasping his hand under the table in this photo, as it was taken a few weeks after you'd confessed to each other.

Now that you think about it.... you both never officially broke it off. Obviously your relationship was over, but part of you always wondered if he still waited for you. If he was still here.

"Oh shit- sorry, didn't think anyone was here. I just saw the door open and-"

You turn around at the voice, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.

Sal.

"Y/n?" he asks, voice wavering.

He looks... older. Taller, hair still bright blue. Not the boy you'd left behind.

"Sal." you breathlessly whispered. You didn't ever think you'd see him again.

"I-I thought- I thought you didn't live here anymore?" you ask, voice starting to waver. You could feel your vocal chords giving away.

Sal stood there, still as could be. He was in shock. Fully convinced you were a figment of his imagination. A dream.

"I-I don't, I mean, I'm still in Nockfell. My parents still live here."

"Right."

You take a moment to breathe, your heartbeat hammering within your chest. You want to embrace him, kiss him, but your feet don't move.

That's over. You ended it by your shitty departure.

You could feel your tears streaming down your face, not noticing them until now. This was all too much. The memories, the feelings-

"Hey, hey. Shhh..." Sal whispers, swiping your tears away with his thumbs. You shiver at the contact, not having felt it in almost half a decade.

"I-I'm so fucking sorry, Sally. I'm so sorry-" you hiccup, your vision blurry from all the tears. Sal embraces you placing his head on your shoulder, rubbing your back slowly. He was there.

"I know, Y/n. I know. I'm sorry too."

You both stay like that for what feels like an eternity, you staining his sweatshirt with your salty tears.

After calming down a bit, you reluctantly pull away, your face close to Sal's. You wanted to stay like this forever.

"You've grown." you chuckled, a stray tear falling from your waterline.

"So have you," he muttered, his gaze focused on you. You'd cut your hair shorter and dyed it a darker color, the color making your eyes all the more enticing and brighter. You'd changed so much, and yet, he felt like he was looking at the same Y/n from highschool who hung out on the playground during lunch.

He wanted to kiss you, even if you left right after it, he needed that goodbye. He needed the seal to confirm that everything that had happened was in the past and that you both could go your separate ways.

You were about to say something, but he took it as a chance to do the one thing he'd been dreaming about for years. Unclasping his prosthetic and dropping it on the carpet, he holds both of your cheeks in his hands, pulling you into him. You don't protest, craving his touch for years.

Your plush lips meld with his scarred ones, the kiss feeling so natural. So right. Like puzzle pieces finally being slotted with each other, completeing the final image.

You bring your hands into his hair, lightly gripping onto his blue locks. A small groan reverbrates through his throat, making its way into your mouth. His tongue licks against your lower lip. More, it means.

You were running out of oxygen, so you pull away reluctantly, placing your forehead against his, panting for air.

"S-Sal, fuck, I-"

"I love you."

You look into his eyes, his good eye's pupil being blown wide from your actions. His half-lidded gaze flickering between your parted lips and your teary eyes. You were so fucking perfect. He should've never let you go.

"I should've never let you go, baby. Do you know how often I stayed up, wondering where you went? How often I stayed up, wishing I could go back, make you stay. Stay with me, Y/n."

You were going to start crying again. His words were so heartfelt, every ounce of love and repressed feelings pouring out for you.

"Stay. Stay with me."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, gazing softly at you. You could see his younger self in those eyes. His younger, yearning, boyish self that you loved oh so deeply.

"I'll stay this time, I promise."

🪐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

#sally face x you #sally face x reader #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader

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noparadiseinthis · 4 months ago

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This is the first time I've posted here and it's also the first time I've written in English. Bear with me, Grammarly helps, but it doesn't work miracles.

How I feel when I see you right in front of me

Spencer Reid/fem!reader

Warnings: mention of previous drug addiction, mention of suicidal thoughts, mention of the reader's mother's cancer (sorry, it's for the plot), angst (I think)

Summary: Spencer has a new girlfriend. You're everything he could wish for. Unfortunately, you doesn't know about his previous "habit" and leaves something in plain sight. Is Spencer strong enough?

Words: 614

For Spencer, you're more than he deserves at any time in his life, but especially at times like this. Staring at the small tablet in front of him, Spencer knows he should have told you when things started to get serious, but he couldn't. He couldn't see the look in your eyes. He couldn't see the look in your eyes. He couldn't see the look of disappointment on your face when you found out you were seeing an addict - a former addict.

At least that would have avoided the situation. When you told him you'd buy your mother's medication and leave it at his house until you picked it up later, he didn't take much notice. He didn't think to ask what medicine she was taking. It seemed so obvious now. What else could a woman with cancer be prescribed?

Now Spencer looked at the morphine tablets as if they were his salvation or his worst enemy. Remembered all too well the feeling, the lethargy, the anxiety that itched under his skin when the effect wore off and he had to inject again. Morphine and Dilaudid weren't exactly the same thing, but they were close enough for her mind to flood with memories. For his skin to itch again. His arm was red and scratched, with perfect marks from the path his nails had traveled.

It's been so hard, Spence, you cried into his chest one night. Caring for a sick mother was enough to bring anyone down, he knew that more than anyone, which was why he resisted that tug on his flesh that led him to pick up a tablet. Just one, she won't notice. You didn't need him to become a burden in your life. You deserved someone better, someone worthy. Someone who didn't look at your mother's medicines as if they were a feast.

Getting sober was a long and arduous process, which he thought about interrupting several times. Now and then, when it got too hard, he thought about stopping something else too. His life. He never wanted to enter that spiral again. He couldn't throw it all away.

Spencer couldn't do many things, but it was still so easy. Reach out, take one of them, and put it in. Would such a small dose still have an effect after so long? Maybe he could try.

He grabbed his hair, forcing himself to think of you, of your proud smile every time he started telling you random facts about the least interesting subjects, but you listened anyway, with love in your eyes. A love he didn't deserve.

Sitting on the sofa, Spencer's hands drummed on his thighs. He didn't even blink anymore, staring at the morphine in front of him. The moment his fingers moved of their own accord, testing the texture of the table next to his enemy of the moment, the door to the living room opened.

"Spence, are you home? I've come for the medicine"

He had never felt so relieved to hear your voice, and immediately withdrew his hand, still horrified at the fact that he had almost reached her. Almost destroyed everything.

When you approached him, Spencer forced himself to form the most genuine smile he could manage, hugging you tightly.

"I love you," he whispered against your temple.

I love you and I'm not strong enough. Over his shoulder, Spencer was still looking at the pills. Wondering if he'd be able to hold back next time. Wondering what you'd say if you knew.

"I love you too," you said when you came out of his embrace, smiling fondly as you held your boyfriend's face in your hands.

That didn't help him.

#spencer reid angst #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #angst

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mrs-kmikaelson · 1 year ago

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03| The Tribrid

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader Summary: After you find out your father is having and embracing another child, you think life can't get any worse... but you were wrong. Warnings: this gets angsty, kids Words: 2.9K

Masterlist | Part 4

I felt a tidal wave of different emotions. Shock, sadness, fear, and for some reason, anger. My heart sank to my stomach as I tried to process the information.

Until I realized I couldn't. Elijah and werewolf girl were right in front of me. So I shook it off, if that's the way you'd phrase it, and blinked. "You're Klaus' wife?"

Both Elijah and the werewolf cringed. "Ew, no." She made a gagging noise. "I just slept with him once in a moment of- absolute stupidity." Ew. She shook her head and pointed at me. "I just realized I don't know your name- I'm Hayley."

She did the whole 'hold out your hand for a hand shake thing' I already did with Elijah, but I still shook her hand and replied, "Y/N."

Elijah, who looked both vaguely confused and amused, cut in and pointed to us both, "Pardon me, but how, exactly, do you two know each other?"

Something happened in Hayley's eyes before she answered like she was choosing what to say. She glanced at me and then said, "I met her the other day. I spilled my tea on her at the café."

My brow rose at the lie, but I didn't say anything. I just shrugged and reckoned, "Small world." Hayley's eyes met mine in a thankful expression and I subtly nodded at her before smiling at both of them. "I better get back to the party." I nodded to all the people. "Nice meeting you both- well, formally meeting you, Hayley."

Elijah gave a two-fingered wave that looked almost like a peace sign, but it was too refined looking to be categorized that way. "It's been a pleasure, Y/N." In his eyes, I saw a bit of recognition flash, but it was gone too quickly for me to register.

I turned around and began walking. I didn't really see what I was doing, I was just too focused on trying not to speed out of the building. My mind and my heart raced to see who could move faster and I was beginning to feel like I couldn't breathe.

When I ended up in another hallway, I sped into a room and closed the door without caring who saw me. Immediately, I pressed against it and everything that I'd just repressed in that conversation came rushing back to me in a flood.

Klaus Mikaelson is having a baby.

My father is having a baby.

I felt like I wanted to cry, and scream, and tear my hair out but I spent way too long doing my hair earlier to even run my hands through it right now. I exhaled, trying to calm myself down. But then another thought came rushing to me. I just met Elijah Mikaelson. God, could this day get any weirder?

The answer to that is yes. Yes, it could. Because I looked up and, staring right back at me, was the Klaus Mikaelson.

I couldn't stop my jaw from actually dropping this time. I was too shocked to even say anything.

He stepped closer to me and it was like I was frozen. He kept walking closer and closer until he was right in front of me. I couldn't keep my eyes off his because, my God, I have never been so close to him before and his eyes look just. like. mine.

He seemed to see the same thing I saw because, for a second, his blank expression was broken by a small look of curiosity. And, for a second, I wondered if he realized it.

And, for a second, I realized how sad it was that I've been on this planet for five hundred years, and this is the first time I've ever seen my father. And he still doesn't know it.

As he picked me apart with this gaze, there was so much I wanted to say, so much I thought I was over. I'm your daughter, I wanted to blurt out. I wish I had the courage to say it out loud, but there were so many thoughts I had that fought against that.

Her voice echoes throughout my head. Your father wouldn't love you, Y/N.

And with that thought, I close myself off as I'd done many times already. I pushed all my feelings down and pretended harder than I ever had to before, because I don't think I've ever felt anything like this.

I broke eye contact, looking around the room. Canvases sat on easels and drawings and paintings alike lined the walls. I was half stunned by the beauty of the artwork around me. The other half of me was stunned that, just my luck, I'd stumbled into Klaus' studio.

Fuck me.

When I looked back up at him, I didn't have any trouble speaking or looking him in the eye, because I promised myself I wouldn't. Y/N Mikaelson may have been scared to death, but Y/N Y/L/N wasn't; she was a badass tribrid who wasn't afraid of anything.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." He looked a little surprised when I spoke. Why, is an answer I don't have. "I wandered off by accident, just needed some air away from the crowd."

Klaus hummed and his lips upturned in a small, unexpected smile. "Yes, I quite understand that feeling." Oh my God, he's talking to me. He held his hand out. "I'm Klaus," he said, as if I, of all people especially, wouldn't know that.

I reluctantly shook his hand, hoping to God he wouldn't pick anything up with the contact but, luckily, even after I let his hand go, he looked the same. But I'd never know, I suppose; maybe he was just as good at pretending as I was.

"And you must be Y/N," he stated. I stood up straighter. "I've been expecting you."

What?

I controlled my breathing as I waited for his response.

"You're the person that saved the mother of my child yesterday." A large breath would've left me if it wasn't totally obvious. He turned around and started walking. "You snapped a brute's neck, and then," he spun back around, "you left her there with his dead body, knowing he could awaken any second." His tone was less soft now, more accusatory.

Finally, I thought. He was beginning to act like the man I've heard about.

So why was I still so surprised?

I squinted my eyes slightly. "No, actually," I corrected, "I knew he wouldn't wake up in the time it'd take for someone to get to her."

His voice was sardonic. "And how could you predict such a thing?"

Using magic, I itched to say, but instead I said, "Life experience," and left it at that. Klaus didn't look like he believed me, but you gotta admit, that's a quip any vampire would use.

He hummed again, but this time, it was less agreeing and more sarcastic. This definitely wasn't how I imagined this happening.

Even if he didn't believe me, he left it alone because, next thing you know, he's moved on from the topic with not even as little as a thank you for saving his pregnant werewolf.

"So you're a friend of Marcel's?" Well, the motherfucker can eavesdrop. He tilted his head slightly, almost as if he was interested, but I knew better than that, and I had a feeling he knew I knew that, too.

I kept it simple. "Yeah, I've known him for a while."

"Hmmmmmmm," he hummed longer before getting straight to the point, "And were you here, with him, in the entirety of knowing him? Because I heard your conversation with my brother and you look awfully familiar to me, as well." Oh, if I wasn't a vampire, I already know I'd be screwed because my heart would be beating rapidly right now.

He continued, "And I couldn't have seen you with Marcel because, according to your conversation with the saxophone player, you haven't been in New Orleans for a while." He's been watching me? "And I definitely did not see you with him in years prior because I did not even know he was alive."

I came to a mental block on what to say; I felt like I was on trial. But, like always, I tried to keep the storm brewing inside of me as exactly that: inside. On the outside, I was calm and collected, and knew what to say.

That calm and collected version of me walked forward so I wasn't backed into the wall, making myself look more confident than I actually felt at that moment. Klaus' brow raised again, like he expected me to cave in on myself, but I did the exact opposite and shrugged, suggesting, "You must have seen me around somewhere else, then. I've been alive a couple hundred years and, well, the vampire world is a smaller world than it's made out to be, isn't it?"

Klaus just blankly stared at me in response; not for too long, though, because eventually, just like with Elijah, I saw something pass through his eyes, but it was gone before I could even grasp it. His lips tilted into a fake smile as he agreed, "Yes, I suppose so." Lie.

We both stood there in silence for a few seconds before I cleared my throat. "Well, I better get going and make sure Marcel hasn't gotten into any trouble." I smiled, but he could probably tell just as well as I could that there wasn't any authenticity to it.

He nodded, and I couldn't have been out of that room faster. I didn't stop to look at the expression on his face, didn't stop to look at the artwork in the room or didn't even stop to think. I just walked as fast as I could and didn't stop, even when I reached the courtyard. I didn't stop until I was outside completely to even breathe.

Panic bubbled in my chest, but I stuffed it back down. I'd let my guard down mere minutes earlier and look it where it got me, in the same room, alone, with my father who I've never met.

Let's not forget that said meeting was caused by me running off from my uncle and the werewolf pregnant with my sibling.

What the actual fuck.

What's next, fucking grandma and grandpa come back from the grave? Would I be surprised at this point?

Why couldn't I have just stayed in New York? New York was simple; it was easy, it didn't require me to dig into my past or think about the family that was ignorant to my existence.

And now I'm here. I've met my father, something I've both dreamed and had nightmares about for my entire life. Half of me is content with having met him, but the other half wishes it never happened.

Tears welled in my eyes, but I blinked them away.

Don't you dare cry, Y/N. You cry later. You need to be strong right now.

I blinked faster until I didn't feel the wetness in my eyes anymore and exhaled before I walked back into the Abbatoir in search of Marcel. I didn't feel like meeting another family member right now, so I'd like to leave ASAP, actually.

I found him talking up a broad in the corner and made my way over to him. My mind went to Camille immediately, but I shook that thought off. Cami didn't know about all this stuff and, besides, her and Cellie weren't a thing so it didn't matter.

I stopped when I was right next to the blonde he was talking to and his eyes met mine. I didn't bother looking at the girl, instead giving Marcel a look that I hoped he was able to understand. "I'm heading out now. You coming or what?"

He opened his mouth like he was gonna answer one thing but closed it as if he thought different. "Uh, go without me," he mumbled over the music. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I nodded, leaning forward to kiss his cheek in goodbye. I waved. "See you then." And then I walked away, waiting until I was outside the slaughter house to speed to my house, not in the mood for a stroll through the Quarter.

The actions of me unlocking my door all the way to me undressing and falling into bed were a blur. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I felt the tears I'd been holding in leak out of my eyes.

The tears burned my skin like they were tiny shards of glass, my shoulders shaking like I was cold, but really I felt so hot that I could explode. The same way, even though I was crying like I was sad, I was actually angry.

I was so angry that this was what my life was like. I was so angry that I've never had family experiences. I was so angry that they'd all gotten a thousand years together and I was just thrown to the side. And it made me feel horrible that I was so angry about Klaus fathering another kid when he didn't even know about me.

I was so angry that I wished the tears running down my face were tiny shards of glass, 'cause maybe then the pain inside could've been drowned out by that.

As a vampire- hell, even as a werewolf, I could escape physical pain. But everything on the inside was still there. As hard as I tried to pretend, that girl on the inside that worried and whose heart raced- I could never escape her.

A sob left my lips at that thought.

And I cried until I couldn't cry anymore and fell asleep.

THIRD PERSON, EARLIER

Marcel stood with Rebekah in a corner of the Abbatoir, a hard expression on his face while she leaned against a pillar and crossed her arms. In his eyes, she turned against him, but in hers, she was putting her family first.

Putting her family first meant pulling him aside to scold him on why he'd attend a Mikaelson event, knowing he was on Klaus' hit list. To Rebekah, Marcel had a death wish.

But Marcel had pride, just like Niklaus, and even just like herself. And that pride that she had was perhaps the real reason why she'd pulled him aside in the first place: because of his human girlfriend.

To Marcel, Rebekah didn't give a damn about him, just like Klaus. So that's why, instead of flirting per usual, they instead stared at one another with uncertainty they couldn't see.

Breaking their stare-contest was a blonde that came over and called Marcel's name. Both of their heads whipped around, but the blonde's gaze was directed entirely at Marcel as if she were purposefully ignoring Rebekah, making her narrow her eyes.

As soon as the girl came over, she'd captured Marcel's attention completely. "I'm heading out now," she stated. "You coming or what?"

So they came together, Rebekah thought, as she analyzed the girl. Although she was blonde, she was not Camille. Who the hell is she?

But the longer she stared, the more questions she came up with, questions that steered away from Marcel entirely because Rebekah realized that this girl looked so oddly familiar.

Almost like herself.

Marcel glanced at his ex-girlfriend momentarily, as if remembering she was there, before looking back to the girl and muttering that she could go without him.

The girl nodded and kissed his cheek, forcing Rebekah's to tense. And without a single glance in her direction, she left.

The Mikaelson stared after her as she maneuvered through the crowd until she was no longer visible, turning to Marcel to see him already looking at her.

If she wasn't a thousand years old, perhaps she'd be blushing.

She smiled artificially like it didn't bother her, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. "And that was...?"

He scoffed. What gives her the right to act like we're together? He questioned to himself, but there was a long list of things he'd probably never say out loud to Rebekah. "That was a friend," he emphasized, "a friend who was there for me after you and your family left me to burn in the Opera House-"

She groaned, breaking her calm composure. "Bloody hell, Marcel, when are you going to let go of that one? I thought we were past it-"

"I'm not past anything." He gave her a steely glare, both of them silent for a moment before he fixed his blazer and spoke. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I actually have better things to be doing right now."

Rebekah resisted a scoff as he walked away from her, towards the crowd. She didn't understand him. God, he frustrated her almost just as much as Niklaus did.

With the thought of her brother, her mind drifted back to the woman that'd just left before Marcel did. She tried her best to reimagine her face in her mind. She was distracted, though, by Hayley coming up to her and talking to her about her brother. And just like that, the girl from earlier disappeared from Rebekah's mind completely.

But maybe, just maybe, if she'd thought about it a little longer, then she would have realized that the blonde talking to Marcel looked just like her. That she looked like her once best friend, Klaus' lover.

Maybe she would've realized that the girl was a Mikaelson.

#klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus x daughter!reader #tvdu #tvd #tvd fandom #angst #tvd fanfiction #elijah mikaelson #hayley marshall #klaus mikealson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson imagine #marcel gerard #rebekah mikaelson

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kangshxrtie · 3 months ago

Text

ch. 22 ⤍ PICK ME

you started your stream with your usual energetic greeting, glancing at the chat as it started to flood in with messages. you leaned back in your chair, smiling, ready to dive into the updates.

"so earlier today, i filmed this video with leeseo and wonyoung," you began, trying not to laugh too hard at the memory. "first of all, never let wonyoung behind the wheel—she scares me. she couldn't keep her hands on the wheel because she freaked out every time the car moved even a little. now, leeseo? that kid is wild. for some reason, she's actually good at driving." you paused for effect. "like, way too good for her age."

user1 idk who even let wonyoung behind the wheel. she's literally scared of driving.

you nodded, laughing softly. "i was wondering the same damn thing," you replied, shaking your head.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ when do i get to drive you? 😏

you raised an eyebrow at the comment. "you driving? should i be scared?" you teased.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ of course not. i'm a great driver!

"i don't know... should i let zuha drive me around?" you asked your chat, knowing exactly how they'd react.

user2 hell no

user3 run yn

user4 ur def not making it out of that one

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i love being a mod. there's so much power here.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i'm banning everybody who said i can't drive!

you couldn't help but laugh at her response. "you can't just ban my whole chat, zuha!"

reinyourheart wait how is kazuha a mod b4 me? i've known u longer

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ 🤷🏻‍♀️ i'm just good like that.

🗡️_yujin_an damn imagine not being a mod

reinyourheart even yujin

reinyourheart she prob doesn't even use it

🗡️_yujin_an actually 🤓☝️ i use my mod powers all the time to run polls. i'm also an og y/n sub so i got mod

reinyourheart y/n plz mod me since apparently you're just giving mod to anybody these days

"i don't trust you enough to give you those privileges."

reinyourheart but u trust yujin???

"well, not really, but she's our leader," you joked.

reinyourheart banning u from my chat now

"that's fine, i never watch your streams anyways," you quipped, earning a playful gasp from your chat.

reinyourheart 😮 fake

"i'm joking. please don't actually ban me," you said, breaking into laughter. as your giggles faded, your eyes caught an interesting question in the chat.

user1 what type of person do u want to date?

the question made you pause for a moment. "i've actually been thinking about this a lot recently," you admitted.

you leaned forward, ready to dive into your answer. "so, first of all, i like someone with a cool and relaxed personality, but they also need to be bright enough to make me laugh—even with the corniest jokes." as you said this, your thoughts drifted toward someone in particular.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i feel like i can satisfy those requirements

you chuckled softly but kept going. "i also want to date a morning person, so they can help me fix my sleep schedule."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i hate sleeping in

"i really hope they can speak japanese too, 'cause i wanna visit japan so badly."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ me

you grinned, ignoring her comments for now. "another odd requirement—i want them to be good at ballet. it's a talent i just really admire."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ me 🙋🏻‍♀️

"oh, and if they look like bae suzy, that's a huge bonus," you added with a nostalgic smile. "she was my ideal type when i was younger."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ pick me! choose mee!

"and another weird one—they need to randomly start stretching or doing squats whenever they feel like it. bonus points if they have abs. that's just..." you sighed dramatically. "so hot."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i literally fit all the requirements

you finally broke, laughing as you read her string of comments. "i don't know if anybody can really line up to all these standards," you shrugged playfully.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ am i even here rn 😞

"y'all, if you know someone who meets all these standards, let me know," you told your chat, laughing at how many people were either playing along or just laughing at the interaction.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ chat suggest me #ynxzuha

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ imma start banning ppl that type any other name

"you can't threaten my chat like that, zuha," you chuckled, reading her messages aloud.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ chat she noticed me

you shook your head, smiling. "but since you're here, what do you think of all these suggestions?"

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ idk but i think that kazuha girl is pretty cool. i think u wld like her

you pursed your lips in thought. "hmm... i don't really know. i'll have to think about that one."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ trust

"i guess i'll trust you," you said, playing along. "but what are you doing right now? you should join me."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i cant im filming leniverse rn

you gasped. "what do you mean? stop watching me and go film!" you teased, mock-scolding her.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ we good. they're not rdy yet

"alright, just don't get into trouble because of me."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ talking to u is more important tho :/

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ nobody tell chaewon i said that

"there's a reason i act the way i do—it's because she says stuff like this," you said with an exaggerated sigh.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i miss u lets hang out soon

"we literally hung out yesterday," you reminded her, laughing.

user5 u did?

user6 i miss when y/n updated us

you nodded, leaning into the camera. "yeah, because we filmed the collab!" you added, catching yourself before revealing too much. "when will that be posted, zuha?"

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ shld be posted next week

"okay, tell your team to edit me well," you said with a grin.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i will.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i hv to film now talk l8r

"bye, zuha!" you waved dramatically, just as you got a perfectly timed message from yujin that she was almost ready.

"so, today we'll be playing games with yujin, who should be here soon," you announced to your chat. no sooner had you said it, you heard the familiar ping, signaling that yujin had joined the call.

"y/n, why didn't you warn me?" yujin exclaimed, her voice full of exasperation.

you blinked. "what do you mean?"

"leeseo just showed me what you all did in the video today."

"oh, that! yeah, she's crazy with it," you laughed, remembering the madness.

"she was all like, 'you wanna see what i learned?' and i'm thinking, sure, why not—'cause i'm actually curious about what y'all filmed. next thing i know, she reverses fast and does a freaking j-turn. i've never been so scared in my life."

"she did it first try, too. i was just sitting there, in shock."

"i just wish i had talked to wonyoung first," yujin muttered.

"i'm so glad you're the driver in the group. no way we'd be alive if wonyoung was behind the wheel."

"oh, absolutely," yujin agreed quickly. you both laughed before getting connected to the game, ready for the chaos that would follow.

zuhasgf connected

as soon as yujin's character appeared in the game lobby, you rolled your eyes, and immediately opened the menu, kicking her out without hesitation.

"alright, i'm in the game," she announced, unaware of what you'd just done.

"huh? y/n, did you just kick me out?" yujin's voice sounded confused.

you tried to act innocent. "wait, why'd you disconnect?"

yujin groaned, realizing. "you literally just kicked me."

"i think you need a new username," you replied.

"i can't get back in—did you ban me?" yujin chuckled.

"don't blame me because you can't get in the game," you said.

zuhasgf connected.

you immediately kicked her out again, this time banning her completely.

"y/n!" yujin yelled in disbelief.

"i told you to make a new username. i'm not accepting this one," you said firmly.

"just unban me!" yujin demanded, still laughing.

"are you trying to join with the same character?" you asked.

"yeah, did you unban me?"

"...of course," you lied smoothly.

once yujin finally decides to change her name back to normal, you two load into the game, the screen fades in, revealing your pirates standing confidently on a dock, the vast ocean stretching behind them, with a rugged ship rocking gently in the harbor.

"i don't have a shovel, so you're gonna have to do all the digging," yujin lazily announced.

"yujin, if you don't put some type of work in, i might actually fight you," you shot back.

you walk off in the opposite direction when you spot something off in the distance. "there's a ship here," you inform yujin.

she started her pirate roleplay. "arghh! i'm on my way!" yujin replied in a raspy pirate accent, rushing toward the ship with exaggerated enthusiasm.

suddenly, your screen started shaking violently. "what was that?" you muttered, trying to steady your view.

on the other end, you could hear yujin losing her mind, screaming incoherently. there were no actual words, just pure panic as she mashed buttons in a futile attempt to do... something.

while yujin flailed, you spotted an ocean crawler emerging from the sand. remaining calm, you casually pulled out your gun and shot it. meanwhile, yujin continued screaming in terror about something you couldn't even see.

then, out of nowhere, yujin set off an explosion—right next to you. the entire screen flashed red as both you and the surrounding enemies were blasted back.

"oh my god, yujin! what the fuck!" you yelled, your health bar dangerously low as you quickly ate some food to recover.

"you're welcome!" yujin chirped, completely ignoring the fact that she had almost killed you along with the monsters.

the battle ended, and you both wandered around the island, eventually stumbling upon a mysterious shipwreck. a spectral pirate appeared out of thin air, launching into an overly dramatic speech about ancient pirate lore.

"this is actually the longest speech i've ever heard. argh," yujin groaned.

you decided to pull out a ukelele from your inventory. yujin, never one to be outdone, joined in with her singing about finding the pirate captain, her voice cracking from the strain of trying to stay in character.

later, while you were still outside playing music, yujin's shrill voice pierced the calm.

"three ghost ships!" she shouted.

"let's go. we must go on an adventure!" you replied, dramatically diving into the water, heading for the ghost ship, determination in your heart.

however, as you swam, the tide came in, forcefully pushing your character back. you struggled against the current, while yujin, oblivious, had already made it onto your ship and was sailing away.

"yujin! get your ass back here!" you screamed, frantically swimming after the ship. "i'm literally sinking!"

after what felt like an eternity, yujin finally circled back for you. gasping for breath, you managed to pull yourself up onto the deck.

relieved to be back on board, you stood at the front of the ship, surveying the ocean ahead. you felt the wind in your face, the waves crashing against the hull. surely, yujin could be trusted to steer the ship... right?

but then you noticed something alarming. "yujin... we're gonna crash into this rock!" you said, your voice tense.

"anchor!" yujin screamed, but it was far too late. the ship slammed into the rock.

"we're gonna die on this ship. not even from the battles, it'll be from your terrible driving," you groaned.

"naww, we're good," yujin said confidently, somehow managing to reverse the ship and sail around the obstacle, acting like nothing had happened.

you decided to climb up to the ship's bowsprit, balancing precariously on the beam as the ship cut through the waves. "is standing up here a good idea?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

"argh! of course it is!" yujin replied without hesitation.

"is playing music as we go into battle a bad idea?" she asked, joining you upfront with her accordian, strumming an out-of-tune melody.

you pulled out your ukulele from the inventory, matching her energy, and for a moment, it was peaceful—just two pirates making music.

then, without warning, the water around you started to churn. from the depths of the ocean, a massive kraken emerged, its tentacles towering above your ship.

both you and yujin screamed in unison as chaos ensued. you were flung into the water but somehow kept playing your ukulele, refusing to let the music die.

"it's sucking us in!" yujin shouted, her voice on the verge of panic. "load the cannons! we gotta fight this off!"

"can we even fight this thing?" you asked through fits of laughter, doubting your chances.

you quickly switched to the cannonballs, aiming at the monstrous tentacles, firing off shots as fast as you could. you felt like you were making progress, but then you noticed the ship was being dragged deeper into the abyss.

your screen flickered and went dark with a red outline. "what is even happening?" you groaned as your character faded into the ghostly realm.

as a spirit, you wandered aimlessly, spotting another figure. thinking it was yujin, you approached, only to realize it was a random player—a man who's character gave you a casual nod.

"later, dude," he said, disappearing into the void.

you eventually respawned back with yujin, both of you standing on the remains of your ship, now just floating debris in the ocean.

"well, that was a great sea of thieves adventure. we lost everything," yujin said, pulling out her accordion.

you pulled out your ukulele, shaking your head but smiling. "yeah, it was great."

"the fucking kraken..." yujin muttered.

"literally right before the pirate ship, too," you said.

"literally the most random shit," she added, laughing.

"crazy," you agreed, both of you still basking in the aftermath of the chaos.

"anyway, i guess we have to end here," yujin said, the energy winding down.

"yeah, we do," you agreed, starting the stream wrap-up.

you exited the call with yujin, turning your attention to chat. "alright, chat, it's about that time," you said, leaning back in your chair with a relaxed smile. "i'll be live tomorrow for some more games, maybe with a few friends, but i haven't locked anything in yet."

you glanced at the chat as messages rolled in, then continued. "also, keep an eye out—our channel's dropping a new video soon, so make sure to check that out when it's up. but yeah, that's all for today!"

you gave a casual wave. "thanks for hanging out, and i'll see you next time." with a final smile, you ended the stream.

ALL CHAPTERS !!! | NEXT CH !!!

#nakamura kazuha x reader #le sserafim x reader #kazuha x reader #nakamura kazuha #ive x reader #kazuha #le sserafim #gxg #kpop #ahn yujin #jang wonyoung #leeseo

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fiona-fififi · 6 months ago

Text

Quiet

Rating: G

Fandom: 9-1-1

Pairing: (pre-relationship) Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Summary: Christopher leaves, and everything is endless quiet.

Notes: angst with a hopeful ending, hurt/comfort, 911 spoilers, canon compliant to 7x10, episode coda, Buckley Diaz family, pre-relationship buddie

—

Ao3 Link

—

It's late when his phone rings. The screen displaying Eddie's name and a photo of a smile Buck feels like he barely remembers.

A desperate pain squeezes at his chest, and Buck thinks he might die for the return of that smile, even though he knows he'll never be able to bring it back on his own.

He answers. Stays quiet for long moments. Then, “Eddie?" he murmurs, and it's a careful plea. One full of misguided hope that it might be something good for once. Knows that’s wishful thinking.

Eddie doesn't answer. Long moments pass with nothing but the sound of his breathing to keep Buck company in the cold of his empty bed.

“It's quiet.”

Eddie's voice finally breaks the silence. It's barely a whisper, but it's broken in ways that slice open every old wound Buck had thought was beginning to heal, and suddenly he's flashing back to Christopher’s cries for help and to the ruined walls of Eddie's bedroom and to the way he'd thought, for too many fearful moments, that he'd find a body instead of the broken gaze of his best friend.

“Eddie?” He asks, a careful, quiet thing of his own. All his vulnerability betraying him as he begs for Eddie to be okay, even when he knows better.

“It's quiet like—like the middle of the night, when he's fast asleep. Except—” Buck hears the break in Eddie's voice, the way the pain he'd been trying to hold back had flooded all at once, leaving his voice so choked it's near unrecognizable, “—except he's just not here.”

Buck swallows hard against the emotion that threatens to spill over in his own voice, tosses the blankets off himself and finds his feet in one smooth motion he's not sure how he manages with the shake of his hands. “Eddie, I'm coming over,” he chokes out with the kind of conviction only Buck can manage through the tears that threaten.

“No,” Eddie begs on the other end of the line. And it's a harsh and broken thing—wet with tears but hard with anger Eddie's trying to use to mask it. “No. I told you, I don't want you here."

Buck has to bite his lip to keep the whimper of pain from dripping out around his own conviction. Holds his breath until it clears and then hangs up the phone without another word. It feels cruel, to cut Eddie off like that, but he won't argue.

He'll break down the goddamn door again if he has to.

—

The moment he's in the car, he finds himself taking a deep breath, hands gripping too tight to the wheel as he debates his next move.

He knows he should go. Or maybe stay.

But either way, he knows he needs to make a decision and he knows that decision will always be to go to Eddie.

But there's one more thing he needs to try before he can.

He's calling Christopher before he's even processed the thought. It's late, and he shouldn't, but the line is ringing before he can manage to stop himself, and then Christopher's picking up, sounding somewhere between groggy and irritated, and Buck knows he shouldn't have called. Still can't bring himself to regret it.

“Is everyone alive?” Christopher asks first, through a yawn, and he's trying to hide it, but Buck can hear the legitimate worry there, and a pang of guilt hits him as he cringes in response.

“Yeah! Yeah, bud, of course everyone's alive,” he promises, all false cheer and forced smiles he hopes makes his tone sound just a little more convincing.

Christopher sighs, and Buck can hear him shuffling around a bit. Thinks maybe he's sitting up for what he's worried is going to be an argument. “Then why are you calling, Buck?”

And, okay, that tone cuts deeper than anything Buck's heard from Christopher in the past. He finds himself fiddling idly with his car keys, trying to keep his hands busy as he tries to choose his next words carefully.

He's quiet so long, Christopher has to reset him with an irritated “Buck.”

“Right, uh,” Buck begins, squeezing his eyes shut and scrubbing a hand over his face. “Buddy, your dad's not doing well.”

“No."

“Christopher,” Buck pleads, voice betraying all his frustration and pain because he understands, he does—he knows why Chris is angry and why he's not ready to talk. But he also knows how much Eddie is hurting and how little of it had actually been Eddie's fault. And it doesn't change the hurt it caused, but Buck needs Christopher and Eddie to be okay, and right now, he's not sure Eddie's going to be. “Look, I know you don't want to talk to him. And I know it's unfair of me to ask. But Christopher, he needs to at least hear from you. Just. you don't even have to call. Just—just text him. Tell him you love him.”

“Buck—"

“Please, Chris.”

Christopher's silent for long moments. They stretch through the darkness. So long Buck thinks he's hung up the phone. In the end, though, a tiny voice breaks the silence—one full of a softness Buck hasn't heard in far too long. “Are you with him?”

Buck sucks in a shaky breath. Guilt flooding him at the question. “I'm going to him now.”

Buck thinks he hears Christopher breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay,” he says, sure in a way Buck knows neither of them feel. “Stay with him?”

Buck swallows hard. Fights back the tears. “Until you come home,” he promises.

And he means every word.

It's quiet for long moments again. Buck swears he can hear Christopher thinking. “I do still love him, you know,” Christopher promises. And there's that guilt that just keeps circling between the three of them.

Buck feels a sad smile tilt his lips. “I know you do, Chris. He knows, too. But I think he needs to hear it right now. From you.”

Quiet again. Buck thinks for a moment he's pushed too hard.

“I gotta go,” Christopher says, then. Sad, but sure, and Buck feels like his heart has been crushed. “Bye, Buck.”

“Bye, bud,” Buck chokes out. He thinks Christopher's already gone before he says it.

Tears cling to the corners of his eyes as he wills himself not to let them fall. Doesn't want to put anymore hurt on Eddie when he gets there. Tries to prepare himself for all the pain he knows he'll always take on to support the weight of Eddie's own because he knows he can't add to it now.

So with a heavy heart and a little extra hurt, Buck turns the key in the Jeep's ignition, buckles himself in, and wipes harshly at the tears blurring his eyes.

Eddie needs him, and he won't wait another moment.

Before he can go, though, his phone dings with a text message, and when he checks it, it's Christopher.

Tell dad I love him.

When Buck sees it, a harsh breath of relief catches in his throat, and a couple of stray tears manage to sneak out the corners of his eyes as he huffs a laugh devoid of any real humor.

Still, there's relief there. A huge, heavy weight lifting just the slightest as he snaps a screenshot and sends it to Eddie with a message that reads I'll be home in 20. Leave the door unlocked.

And then he waits.

Stares at the phone in his hand, even when he knows he should already be on his way. But he doesn't have to wait long.

It's only seconds before the word okay comes through, bright as daylight. An invitation and a surrender Buck won't take for granted.

Instead, he swallows the sob that threatens to choke him and points himself in the direction of home.

—

#911 spoilers #buddie fic #my writing #my fic

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ourlittleuluru · 5 months ago

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I HAVE SO MANY, BUT ALSO 0 THOUGHTS ON THE NEW MEMORY WITH XAVIER???? (Because I feel like my brain is entirely assaulted by so much... no brain cells survived)

Okay... but the vibe that I got previously where I mentioned that Xavier felt like he could finally bring his walls down... MAN JUST BROUGHT DOWN THE ENTIRE DAM I TELLS YOU!

All in all, LOVE the story line and the development that happened within! Big character development too!

Full ramblings under the cut (ヘ ° w °;)ヘ (beware... it's a hecking long post...)

Off the start and there's already reference to their past lives being in the same school 😭

Of course, he made the first move, he was the one that even wanted to elope, but MC was dense (and also too responsible) 😤

Xavier... you and your technicalities. This man, seriously... And the fact that his profile has like... 0 information... huh. What a surprise, not. The way MC retorts thoooo

HE IS A PLANET THAT'S STRAYED FROM ORBIT இ௰இ And Xavier's been on his guard this whole time...

AND HELLO? NEWLYWED BANTER ALREADY???! CUTE??? 😩

ALSO THE FACT XAVIER SPUN THE STORY THAT HE BROKE AWAY FROM HIS FAMILY...! ELOPING!!! ANOTHER CALLBACKKKKK 😭😭😭

(and as usual, there's gotta be the gossiping asian aunties xd;;; )

Okay I need to stop it with the caps.... But I really can't help feeling like yelling into the void because all my brain cells are just being thrown all around by this memory. Okay, breathe...

Classic Xavier just... easily winning over the elderlies =w=;;; and then the corny (cringe to me) petnames tho 😭 stud muffin???? cutie patootie??? I can't evennnn

Okay the CN version, they just call each other baby/宝宝... the stark difference 🤣

it's still cute how they try to act so hard X'D but Xavier's totally just living out his fantasies at this point, I'm sure. Xavier's acting was very natural in a way. How easily he just leans on MC before, and calling her using a pet name, even just holding onto her after and naturally flowing into a "Come back soon" 🥺🥺🥺

Just a few days and they're already naturally living their domestic life, as if it's always been that way o(TヘTo)

Later on, Jenna commented on how MC has gotten thinner and MC was like thinking how most of the food was cooked by Xavier ToT Man is trying his hardest!

AND OKAY HELLO???! XAVIER CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT NUMBER 1????

MC totally is just letting Xavier use the kitchen???! No snappy remarks about kitchens on fire???

(and also MC just casually remembering what her at-home husband's favourite fruit is and just picking one up back for him 😭)

AND NO KITCHENS ON FIRE FOR REAL!!! I REPEAT NO FIRES IN THE KITCHEN! Xavier FINALLY can cook!?!! (but what's with the teasing Xavier ToT MARSHMALLOW SPAGHETTI?????)

His food is MC approved 😭😭😭😭 BABY BOY HAS GROWN!

And he just... casually indulged in her touch....

And why is it that after carrying out their mission, Xavier went from a simple white shirt, shows up in a whole getup? ToT but I'll take it! And MC being dense again and how Xavier just corrects her but she goes to hug him right away???? The whole 21 days to create a habit thing... And the way he asks for more?????? Man is slipping. He's about to just. Let it go.

And to think... the whole Kindled just started with MC's little push when Xavier replies vaguely as usual

Guess after 21 days of living out your dream life, nothing be holding him back at this point huh. And the way Xavier's tone just completely changed! HE BECAME SO SOFT AND LIKE NEEDY SOUNDING LIKE AHJDSHAFKLSDFL

BUT OML????! HELLO??? HOLD ON!!!

In the trailer, there were 2 kisses, right? MC just straight up snuck one! And Xavier went in for not one, BUT TWO! MORE TIMES. TWO!!

LOOK. THE FLOOD GATES HAVE OPENED. HE JUST BE LETTING ALL THE STUFF HE'S HELD BACK, OUT. Nothing is stopping him any more. And he's not about to let anything stop him after this, for sure.

Xavier finally can be himself. No facades, no alternate identities that he feels like he needs to put a distance with. Just as much as he loves every version of MC, he's dedicating every bit of him to MC 😭😭😭 I just... I can'tttttt. THIS WHOLE PART AFTER THE KINDLED BROKE ME...!

AND THEN HE SNEAKS IN ONE MORE FINAL KISS RIGHT AT THE END?!!! (≧﹏ ≦) aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

Okay. I'm done. I'm just... so done. I won't recover from this. I don't think I can... 💗_(:з)∠)_

#love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #churambles #LONG POST IS LONG #I JUST HAVE THAT MUCH THOUGHTS #HELP #IM DED #BRAIN SHORT CIRCUITED FOR SURE #OH GOSH I'M SUCH A MESS OVER THIS

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phantomtwitch · 1 year ago

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For angstfest! I'm a little late, but here's one for a No One Knows AU.

They’re already moving as soon as he’s gone.

Tucker grabs Danny’s legs while Sam picks up Danny beneath his arms and shoulders. He’s long past the point of being embarrassed about Sam being stronger than him, and they have to move fast as they drag Danny’s body into an empty classroom nearby. He mutters curses under his breath as the heavy classroom door bounces off his side, and Sam huffs and rolls her eyes. “Drama queen,” she accuses, and he sticks his tongue out at her as they carry Danny’s body the rest of the way inside and the door shuts with a too-loud slam behind them.

But they’re not worried about the noise attracting attention. Most of the students are staying within their own classrooms, ignoring whatever odd sounds they might hear as the ghost alarm goes off in the background. The harsh, blinking lights cast odd shadows on Danny’s face, making Tucker queasy for a minute as they prop his body up against the wall below the whiteboard.

“How long?” he asks, panting heavily and trying to catch his breath.

“Two minutes and forty-five seconds,” she says with a grin as she sits down next to him. “Pretty sure that’s a new record.”

“Nah, we did it in two minutes and thirty-eight seconds last month, remember?” he says as he sits down beside her and starts to unpack his backpack. The defibrillator is buried at the bottom, tucked beneath his things. It’s the smallest one they could find that’s still effective, even if they’re not exactly using it for its intended purpose, and Sam carries another just in case. For a normal person, it wouldn’t be possible to restart their heart and lungs with an electric shock, despite what the movies claim, but for Danny? Electricity is the only thing that works, the only thing that will bind his spirit back to his corpse as it infuses and activates the ectoplasm flooding his blood stream.

The Fentons could no doubt provide a scientific explanation as to why and how it works, but to Tucker, it’s an odd kind of magic, of horrifying necromancy as they forcibly, painfully force the electricity to run through him again, so similar to the accident that caused this problem in the first place. It’s only by chance that they know it works, having tried the defibrillator hanging on the lab wall in the basement after he came out of the portal and his body fell to the ground as his ghost hovered over it in shock. He didn’t give it much thought the first time. Tucker merely assumed the movies were right and that they restarted Danny’s heart. It wasn’t until later that they learned the truth.

With practiced ease he pulls Danny’s old NASA t-shirt off, and then scowls as he notices that Danny’s wearing a new necklace with a constellation on it that Tucker probably should know the name of after being Danny’s friend for so many years but doesn’t. “Great. More stuff to take off. Wonder who gave it to him,” he grumbles, twisting it around in his fingers until he finds the clasp and removes it. He checks him over for any more metal and finds none. “How long now?”

“Four minutes,” says Sam, and he nods. They worry one day it’ll be too long, that there will be no forcibly stitching his soul and body back together, that all will remain is a ghost and the body of a boy who’s been dead for longer than anyone knows. The longest Danny’s ever gone is thirty-three minutes, yet they were still able to bring him back that day even as it seemed to take longer than usual. But there’s no one they can ask for help or advice, no one that’s dealt with this before besides them and Jazz, and none of them trust the Fenton parents enough to not shoot their own son in the face if they learn the truth. Because so far, at least, when Danny’s back he is alive again. He’s grown a few inches since this started a year ago. He’s been forced to get his usual haircuts, to trim his nails when they get too long. His heart beats within his chest, and he breathes and smiles and laughs like there’s nothing different, nothing wrong, and absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about him.

They shift Danny again, laying him down flat on the floor on his back as Tucker kneels down beside him and sets up the defibrillator and sticks the pads to Danny’s chest. There’s nothing they can do until he returns, so they wait, Tucker drumming his fingers against the side of his leg as Sam continues to glance at her watch every few seconds. “Did you hear that they’re remaking the first Nightmerica movie?” he asks, looking for any distraction he can.

“Ughh, yeah,” she groans. “Which completely misses the point of why it’s so good in the first place. I don’t want a modern version with modern effects. I want cheesy 80s costumes and music and horror and the chance to cheer as stuck-up cheerleaders get murdered. I mean I guess there’s a chance they’ll keep the original charm, but I doubt it.”

“Yeah, there’s already rumors that they’re casting, like, Scarlett Johanson as Nightmerica,” adds Tucker. “Doesn’t really bode well.”

“Seriously? If she gets cast, I’m just going to nope right out, pretend it doesn’t exist, and hope everyone else does the same,” she says, and then goosebumps erupt across their skin as the temperature in the room drops precipitously as Phantom enters the classroom, phasing through the wall.

He looks rougher than usual as ectoplasm drips from his arms and chest, deep claw marks gouging through the thin black and white hazmat suit he wears even now. His eyes are consumed with green light, his hair floating over his head and flickering like sparks, and there’s a faint hint of white beneath the dark suit, of the shape of bones even as Phantom is nothing but ectoplasm. “Rough fight?” he asks.

There’s heavy static behind each word. Talking to him like this is almost useless. They can’t understand the ghost speech, the odd echoes and noise and whirring, and trying to teach Danny sign language or morse code or any other method of communication when he’s whole again is worthless, none of the knowledge transferring to his ghostly self, the wall between his two halves too solid for even Phantom to phase through. They don’t know why Phantom is one of the only ghosts that can’t speak without the noise and distortion, that can’t make his words understood, but it’s a truth that’s held fast for as long as Danny’s been like this.

But Tucker’s gotten better at reading his unnatural body language, the way he twists upside down and curls his tail around himself as his sharp, pointed teeth flash. “Sorry, man,” he says. “I wish you didn’t have to do this.”

They don't know why he feels compelled to fight the other ghosts. They don't even know what triggers the transformation, even as they've come to recognize the warning signs, like the odd vacant stare that sets in, the way Danny’s hackles almost seem to rise as he silently snarls. And it's not as if Danny can tell them.

Phantom whispers something in response, the words still lost in the static, and then he floats over to himself, putting a hand over his own corpse, because as hard as it is for Tucker to think of it that way, he knows, on some level, that’s what Danny's body is without Phantom. There’s no life in it, no presence, no spirit. It’s merely flesh, an empty vessel, and he shudders to think what could happen if another ghost found him like this, if he might be able to possess him somehow.

"We're at nine minutes," says Sam, and Phantom lets out something like a sigh as he floats back into the corpse. Danny's eyes snap open, green and glowing, and they move quickly.

Unlike the one in the lab that was old and lacked the safety features of most modern AEDs, they had to make a few modifications to this one to get it to work. A modern defibrillator won't let someone shock a body with no heartbeat. Messing with the tech felt dicey, but they couldn't find any other methods to safely deliver a shock to him that wouldn't risk their own safety, too.

The pads are already placed, and he pushes the button, biting his lip as he waits. It delivers the first shock, but aside from a twitch in his shoulders and a confirmation from the AED, there's little to no sign it happened.

A hiss of soft static, and Tucker understands the meaning despite the noise, a bitter plea for them to do it again. It takes three shocks before they see it, the strange white light around his midsection, and Tucker turns off the AED as he and Sam scramble a few steps back.

The light spreads, eventually too bright for them to bear the sight of it as little arcs of electricity dance along Danny's skin, and when it finally stops he's sitting up, staring vacantly. The daze won't last, but they take this moment to put away the defibrillator, removing the pads from his chest. Tucker puts the necklace back on, his fingers shaking as he snaps the clasp together. Much as he tries to act like this doesn’t bother him anymore, he can’t contain his relief at seeing Danny sitting up again, his chest slowly moving with each breath, his pulse steady beneath his wrist and neck.

They've just pulled his shirt on when he blinks, and Danny looks down at his hands, wincing as he touches his chest. "I feel like I got run over by the GAV," he groans, and Tucker forces himself to chuckle.

"You might as well have. You hit the floor hard when you fainted," says Tucker. The injuries are never there, but some phantom pain always seems to remain as his ghost heals. "I'm sorry we never manage to catch you, man. I know it’s gotta hurt."

"It's fine," mumbles Danny. "How long was I out?"

"About ten minutes," says Sam. She doesn’t point out that they time this, now, down to the second. It’s not as if timing it changes anything, but it makes them feel better when they revive Danny in under twenty minutes. More than that and they start to worry. Tucker’s still not sure how Danny doesn’t have any brain damage at this point from the lack of oxygen.

Danny hums, flexing his fingers for a minute as the ghost alarm shuts down. "I . . . Doesn't it seem like this is getting worse? I can't even remember seeing a ghost. I . . . I never can."

"You know this messes with your memory–"

"Yeah, but that makes this seem more like I'm having seizures or something, not fainting. And it's always one of you or Jazz when I wake up, which seems weird, maybe? I just . . . Maybe we should tell my parents," he whispers, and Tucker's heart aches.

"I don't think that's a good idea–" begins Sam, but he cuts her off.

"--why not?" He looks between the two of them, scowling, his fists now clenched. "What aren't you telling me?"

He and Sam exchange a long look. It always comes to this eventually, yet despite their best efforts, it's pointless. Some part of Danny refuses to hear the truth, to acknowledge that he died or at least half-died in the portal, and within an hour he always forgets they even discussed this at all. They don't know why. They've proven over and over again that they accept him and love him despite how he’s changed. But the wall is still too solid to break through.

They should explain it to Danny again anyway. Tucker knows that. But he's so tired of repeating himself, and he knows Sam is, too. Jazz says his psyche needs more time to process and accept the truth, but it's been a year with no sign of things changing.

Sam eventually sighs, forcing the words out. She's always been the strongest of the three of them in more ways than one. "A year ago, you had an accident. You were hurt badly, and we saved you, but–"

The door swings open suddenly, and he sees Mr. Lancer there, the relief evident on his face. "Lord of the Flies! Is everyone okay?" he asks as he takes in the sight of the three of them on the floor. At least the AED is back in Tucker's bag and out of sight, since Tucker doubts Mr. Lancer would be willing to ignore what that might signify if he saw it.

"We're fine," says Sam. "We thought we heard the ghost and hid. I'm sorry we worried you."

"Somehow that always seems to happen with the three of you," he says with a frown, clearly questioning it, but thankfully he doesn't push it further. "But I’m glad that you’re safe, at least, and now that the ghost is gone you three need to get to class."

"Okay." They stand up, and Tucker can see the worry and distrust as Danny clenches his jaw and refuses to look at them as he heads out into the hallway. But that’s not the worst part. No, it’s knowing that by the time lunch rolls around, Danny won’t remember his suspicions or his fears. They’ll be pushed down, slowly hidden beneath the protective part of his mind that refuses to let him know the truth, and instead of questioning why he constantly faints whenever there’s a ghost, why he has strange aches and pains, and why he often sets off his parents’ equipment even when he’s human again, he’ll talk to them about the latest video games and movies and gossip and homework.

He desperately wants his friend to know the truth. It hurts, even as he knows they’re not lying to Danny about what’s happening, that they’ve tried to explain it before. And despite how naturally taking care of his body comes to him and Sam now, despite knowing the signs that herald Phantom’s emergence, Tucker knows they can’t keep this a secret forever. Inevitably, they won’t be there one day, they’ll miss an obvious sign, or someone like Lancer will walk in a little too soon. And once they learn the truth, he and Sam and Jazz know that Danny will be taken from them as he’s locked away in a lab by the GIW or his parents and becomes some gruesome science experiment, tortured as he can’t even remember the reason why.

More and more Tucker’s beginning to think they’re running out of time. They need to find a way. They need to get Danny to understand who and what he is so he can protect himself, because Tucker’s not sure how much longer he can keep up the lie, too.

EDIT: I wrote a Part Two, it's here.

#danny phantom #angstfest2023 #my writing #no one knows au #just this time it's Danny who's clueless #corpse au #electric core au #if you squint #probably medical inaccuracies #very mild gore #tucker pov #again #i might do a second part for this for the everyone knows au bit #but i'm not sure yet #i might cross post this to ao3 after editing it more too

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heyidkyay · 1 year ago

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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Ten

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: It was in the drafts and it's been a while so I thought I'd post. Might not hear from me for a bit though after this, so I hope you like the next part. Thank you for all the love on this one.

Masterlist

A warm bout of light filtered into the bedroom through a small gap in the curtains. It gave the space a sepia feel, tinting the light bedding and walls a warm hazel colour. Creating a haze of skittering beams above me.

It wasn't much, the room. It simply held the necessities I thought I needed seeing as I didn't spend too much of my time in it, other than when I needed to dress or sleep. I’ve really had too many other things occupying my time during the past few years that have kept me from worrying over the state of it.

There was a rickety old dresser, which sat in the far corner and had been something I'd picked up during my time at uni. Student accommodation had been lacking and so Finn had decided, quite early on I might add, that it would be in our best interest to find ourselves some cheap furniture to fill it with.

In truth, we’d actually had to lug the pesky thing all the way down a dual-carriageway and across a roundabout, after having spotted it advertised in the window of our local offy. It held a good few memories though, like when the pair of us had jumped up onto it at the first sight of an eight-legged pal, or the time I’d walked in to find him getting railed over its top.

Then there was the large mahogany wardrobe that had been purchased from a wholesaler not very long after I had finally gotten a newly born Teddy settled into the tiny flat I'd rented out in Hackney.

It had been cramped, what with the bathroom having been the size of a broom cupboard and the only bedroom having led straight into our ‘fun-sized’ kitchen. But we'd made it work. In fact, it had practically been a Godsend during those nightly feeds- six steps and I’d been right by the cooker!

The wardrobe had been a much needed purchase though, and one of the first things I had bought solely for myself since I’d moved out of mam’s.

Then there was the side table, sat next to the one edge of my bed that hadn't been backed into a wall, which held a reading light, a three wicked candle and a couple of novels with folded and refolded receipts sticking out the sides as page markers.

I had garnered quite the collection of books, I could admit, all of which seemed to line up haphazardly on the opposite wall. I tended to smile whenever I caught sight of its heavy shelves, a reminder of all the havoc that had gone into them whilst putting them up. It had taken me three whole days, and even though they were still a tad lopsided, I still gazed upon them in pride.

A woeful plant burdened my windowsill, a slither of its olive coloured pot barely seen from behind the billowing beige curtains. Whilst cushions sat in disarray across the hardwood floor below, having been tossed every which way the night previous.

There were dirty clothes in the hamper by the half-opened door and a basket of clean, partially folded, washing in a chair sitting beside the wardrobe.

The room wasn't completely tidy, but not a tip either.

Humming groggily to myself, I began to stir from the deep sleep I’d lost myself in and used the ball of my palm to rub tiredly at my eye just as a furrowed line creased between my brows.

It was far too quiet, I deemed, and must've been later than usual too because Teddy normally had us both up long before the crack arse of dawn. So I sniffed once and then went to turn over, just to check the time as I always did, but couldn't stop the way I stilled completely at the sight that greeted me.

Because in bed, right beside me, laid another body. One hidden deep beneath the weighted duvet and my favoured blanket, but a body nonetheless.

Shit.

It appeared in the remaining foggy haze of last night, I had quite simply forgotten about the man I'd invited back home. And into my bed, it seemed. As well as the ill-timed events that had led up to it, too.

My breath hitched when the man suddenly moved in his sleep and I did my very fucking best not to express any of my thoughts or feelings outwardly. Desperate not to actually rouse the sleeper.

Instead, I inhaled. Once, then twice. Before finally, I gathered enough courage and strength to slowly inch myself all the way down to the very end of the bed. Mindful not to drag the duvet down with me.

Once I was standing- still fully clothed, I might tack on (thank you to small miracles!)- I allowed myself a second to just peer down and admire the dark, curling locks that now sprawled across my pale pillowcase. As well as the slither of skin which poked out from beneath the bed sheets.

In all honesty, I couldn't actually recall the last time I'd shared my space like this, so freely it almost felt effortless.

Quickly though, I blinked myself out of those sorts of thoughts and took another, much needed, deep breath. The flat was still as quiet as it had been a moment prior, but I was careful to tread incredibly lightly when I turned to grab the nearest set of clean clothes. Then, cautiously, I started to tiptoe my way out of the bedroom.

Standing in the hallway, with a wooden door now planted firmly between me and my overnight guest, I threw my head back in silent ire. Questioning just how, why! I had gotten myself into a situation this stress inducing, a situation I had not been in since my days at uni. I could only just begin to imagine how this would all pan out once everyone was finally wide awake and Teddy had-

Oh God, Teddy!

It was painfully embarrassing to admit that I had just about worked myself into a right state before it finally hit me that Teddy was, in fact, still with Finn. At his flat, not even ten minutes away, and not down the hall, sleeping in the same space as a fucking strange bloke he’d never even set eyes on.

So with that anxiety riddled train of thought now settled, I found that I was ultimately calmer and took a deep breath before resolving to head off to the loo before anything else happened to occur. Or before I sent myself into another full blown panic attack.

I wandered down the rest of the hall into the bathroom and went about my business before stripping out of last night’s clothes. I couldn't stop myself from wincing at the laddered tights I’d since tugged off, those which would surely have to go straight in the bin, and then stepped into a pair of well-worn joggers as well as a newer jumper I’d found during the early summer sales.

It was a long and thoughtful process that had me deciding that I should start on a pot of tea, because if I couldn't sneak my way out of this entire affair via the front door, then tea would simply have to do. Us Brits, hey?

But first, I needed to find my phone.

The thing wasn't too hard to locate. I found it lying on the kitchen counter when I walked in, charging, and did my best to recall the events of the previous night as I puttered around to fill the kettle.

There had been the phone call.

Then Finn taking Teddy.

The tube ride to the bar.

Ronan... As well as everyone else.

And then, Matty had appeared out of nowhere and turned my entire sodding night on its head.

"Christ." I heard myself grumble under my breath, feeling as though I had aged an entire year in a single night.

The hangover I was now supposed to be nursing was teetering around the edges of my mind, a headache oncoming I reckoned seeing as though my shock had hit it clean off onto the verge upon waking up. But still, I found myself rubbing at my temples for a brief second before splaying my palms out on the cold counter in an attempt to calm my brewing emotions.

"Could tell you a few ways to reach him, but I don't reckon he's the sort to make house calls..."

I startled at the sound of the unexpected voice and snapped my head straight up to find Matty standing in the doorway to my kitchen. The man had apparently foregone trousers, choosing instead to make up for the lack of material on his bottom half with a pair of thick socks and an oversized jumper I knew had been draped across my dresser only moments earlier.

I couldn't find it in himself to complain though, not that I would've. Matty looked far too indecent standing there, morning light illuminating his milky skin and shadowing his already dark, tousled hair, watching me through bleary eyes.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Is what I chose to reply with, heartbeat still a little erratic, pulsing in the curve of my throat. I reached a hand up to tug on an earring, the other arm moving to wrap its way around my torso.

Matty’s lip quirked upwards when he stepped further into the room, just as the kettle whistled away to a boil.

"You're alright." He waved off, and shook his head lightly as he made his way over to where two mugs had since been placed on the counter. Two mugs I’d put down without much thought as to whether or not he was sticking around long enough for a brew.

Still, I hadn’t needed to fret over it, seeing as I was forced to watch on as Matty brewed the tea himself; popping a tea bag into each cup and steeping them in hot water. He then cocked a questioning brow in my direction which startled me into motion.

"Sugar’s in the tin.” I told him softly, pointing in its direction, “You'll have to make do with skimmed milk though I'm afraid, got none of that oat shit."

Matty snorted in retort and crossed the floor to open the fridge, looking almost too at home in my austere, little kitchen. Especially when the jumper he wore rid high enough up his thighs to expose the edging of his tight, black boxers.

I looked away.

"Might be a bigshot, babe, but a decent cuppa means actual milk." Matty tutted, paying no mind to the homage of colourful drawings on my fridge door as it rattled shut, and then returned to his station to pour an ungodly amount of milk into one mug. He hovered the bottle over the other.

"Just a splash, please. No sugar." I told him quietly and he hummed in turn, stirring methodically before he fished the teabags out and into the bin.

I took my mug rather cautiously once Matty had picked up his own and taken perch on top of my countertop, feeling a bout of unease at seeing the singer so comfortable in my humble home. What must he think of it all?

I tried not to stress anymore than I already had and took a small sip instead, looking at the way the man opposite fiddled with the old school radio that resided on the closest shelf. It was something I'd brought along with me from back home, it had belonged to one of my grandfathers, I wasn't sure which, but it tended to soothe me whenever I cooked in the late evenings, or during the long nights when Teddy was up all hours.

The warm tea soothed my dry throat and eased some of that tension I still had coiled in the line of my shoulders, enough so that I felt the need to start up another conversation just to fill the lingering silence.

My tongue darted out to wet my bottom lip and then I cleared my throat, cradling the hot mug in my hands.

"So, about last night..."

I was overall quite surprised to see the way Matty's entire mood immediately shifted upon hearing my opener. His lethargic demeanour- mostly down to having just woken up- stiffened entirely and sharpened his tired eyes and soft lips.

"Last night." Parroted Matty, voice low and tinged with a slight rasp that I hadn't paid much attention to a minute ago. It held power, though toneless.

I paused, if only for a moment to weigh my next words. It was important that Matty understood that last night had been a bit of an overreaction on my part, that I’d misstepped whilst drunk, and not something other. I couldn’t deal with any of that right now, if ever. No one needed to know the extent of what had gone down.

"Ronan, he's... well, he's just always been a bit protective."

Matty stared back at me, his face utterly blank. Enough so that I actually startled slightly when he scoffed. It was a loud sound that echoed off the tiles, before his jaw set sternly and his narrowed eyes met my own. “Hang on, you're actually choosing to defend that dickhead?"

I blinked in return, gaping in truth, at the realisation that I’d completely forgotten the fact that I'd explained much of what had happened, drunkenly, to Matty on the cab ride home. The same journey which had ended with not only Matty escorting me up to my front door but me also inviting him inside.

Couldn’t he have just been a gentleman and declined? Left me to choke on my own sick and perhaps allow me to die with the little dignity I’d had left?

It wasn't anything like most would've probably imagined though, the whole me asking him up thing, that much I knew. My intentions hadn't been anywhere near illustrious and I certainly hadn't set out to lure the illusive singer into my bed. I’d merely wanted some company after all that had happened that night is all, scared to be alone with the guilt, even.

Which was honestly a first for me. It had always been so much easier for me to just deal with my many thoughts and complicated emotions alone, behind closed doors and far, far from judgement.

It seemed that the alcohol had addled my mind slightly.

I couldn’t help the sigh I gave then, nor the way I curled up further into the wooden chair I’d since sat in.

"No, just-"

Matty scoffed again, this time cutting me off completely. "Well, it sounds as though you are, darling."

I went to argue but found I couldn't- not that Matty gave me much of an opportunity to though. No, the man simply stampeded on, didn’t he?

Were all rock stars this pigheaded?

"I mean, for fucks sake, Mouse! What were you thinking? I've met my fair share of arseholes but he was no doubt one of the biggest, toed right in line beside me when I was off my face, in truth. He was so fucking arrogant, controlling and- moody! My God, he was a downright moody prick, too. And those were just my thoughts before seeing the aftermath of what went down at the end of the night!”

He shook his head vehemently.

"And protective, really Squeaks? I'm sorry to say this, babe, honest I am, but you might need a reality check, mate. He was downright possessive. Glaring at you the entire night only to try and stake his claim the second you were alone."

I gritted my teeth, unhappy with the way Matty had portrayed everything.

"He's a friend!" I tried to defend but Matty, who had since quietly settled his mug down in spite of his obvious anger, jumped off the counter and stepped forward.

"More like deranged!" He spat back, "I saw you! I was fucking there! I had to look into your eyes, see the blinding panic, the fear. Don't tell me that he's a friend, not when he caused a reaction like that. I mean, you can be intimidating when you want to be- all sweet like, subdued, and intelligent. You're all these fascinating things rolled up into one oversized jumper, and yet, you let someone like him walk all over you? Treat you like you're his property or something." He scoffed once more, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the words he was having to spew.

I stared long and hard into his dark eyes before I couldn't stand to any longer, instead I turned away to blow out an unsteady breath.

Matty was right, I knew that much, alright? But it didn't mean I had to enjoy having to admit to that. Having someone else in on a secret I’d kept for so long, one I hadn't even realised I’d been keeping, not really. It all just felt like a little too much to be dealing with all at once and so early in the morning to boot. Because in actuality, I didn't want to face up to the fact that I had actually allowed someone to treat me that way. To know that other people had finally been a witness to it. Seen me that weak.

I had vowed long ago to never let another person put me in such a state of vulnerability. But here I was, a-fucking-gain.

I heard Matty sigh before socked feet dragged closer and I felt a gentle hand come to rest at the bow of my elbow. He sighed again, softer this time though, when I only continued to stare resolutely out of the kitchen window.

"I'm sorry for blowing my top, yeah? I just- it annoys me, to see you wash your hands of it so easily. As though you believed what he'd done was okay."

I swallowed thickly.

"You deserve better than that, okay?" Matty added.

I had to glance up at the ceiling to blink away the mist in my eyes, but did finally dip my head in silent acknowledgement, pulling away slightly so that I could take a moment to gather myself.

Matty didn't move when I crossed the kitchen floor to riffle through my cupboards, rooted to the ground almost, but he was spurred into action only a few seconds later.

I’d just placed a carton of eggs on the side and moved to turn on the hob when the old radio stuttered to a start. It let that silence I so hated fade away, and gave me the kick I needed to carry on.

"How'd you like your eggs?" I asked, and felt more than saw Matty’s relieved smile. He just had a way of taking up all the space in a room, as though he were its own gravitational pull and everyone else just had to be aware of his every cue.

I hid my own, however tiny smile, as best I could.

"Fried. Got any bacon?"

And just like that, things evened out and our 'talk' was seemingly long forgotten. To be honest, I actually got so caught up in the normality of it all, the radio playing, the sidestepping, the easy smiles, that I completely forgot about the world around us. Everyone else that lived beyond these four walls.

It was just as we’d finished up eating and Matty had jumped up to grab our plates, that a familiar alert sounded. I glanced away and was reminded that life had in fact continued on without us.

I hurried over to where my phone was still sat on the side and worried at my lower lip when I saw the many notifications which lined the dimming screen. The newest was from Finn.

Messages now Finnleyyy Awake yet drunkard? Got a little man here ready to head home, well fed and only a little dirty!

It was instantaneous the way my gaze darted up to where Matty was now standing by the sink, only a tad surprised to find him making an attempt at the washing up. He must've felt my eyes on him though because he turned to flash me a grin over his right shoulder a second later. I tried my best to smile back, but the thought of Teddy meeting Matty, and of Matty meeting Teddy... just didn't sit quite well with me.

My thumbs flew their way across the screen to type up a speedy reply.

Messages now Just woke up Sort of got a visitor? And before you start, no it wasn't like that, but I promise to tell you more when you get here Can you give me half hour??

It was only a little embarrassing, having to mention my overnight guest, especially whilst knowing it was the same man Finn had been blatantly teasing me about these past few weeks, but I really didn't want to have these two parts of my life crossover. Not right now.

With everything I understood about Matty and his past, I had to be certain that he was the kind of person I wanted my son to be around. The kind of person my son was safe to be around. And I was nowhere near sure where I currently was on that scale.

Matty was unreliable. His job had him everywhere and nowhere at once, up all hours of the day, and on a bus most months out of the year. That was something I really had to consider here.

Because I really was just trying to be brutally honest with myself. No matter how genuine Matty might've seemed in his recent efforts, I also knew that he was bound to get bored of our dubious friendship sooner or later, and that Teddy tended to get rather attached quite quickly. And I wouldn't stand by and watch my son get hurt when Matty finally chose to walk away. It was tough, him only having so few people constantly around, I wished so greatly that I could give him the big family I’d always dreamed of, but new people always had me so weary.

I breathed out a quiet sigh of relief when Finn finally messaged back giving me the okay, as well as the expected hard time.

Messages now Finnleyyy Ah I'll be sure to rinse you of every detail, you lazy sod! And Teds will be fine, we'll stop off at the park on our way over

Matty popped up right beside me then, just as I exited my messages, and I was merely thankful that I'd managed to avoid him seeing anything that could have led to questions. In an attempt to both evade and act casual, I scrolled down further to see who else had texted.

"Anything interesting?"

I blinked up at him, mouth now suddenly agape, then to my screen, then back up at him.

"Erm, you might want to see this." I told Matty as I all but threw my mobile into his hands.

The Sun 07:34 HOTHEAD HEALY IS BACK AND MAKING HEADLINES WITH DARK HAIRED BEAUTY

MTV 08:02 MATTY HEALY SPOTTED AT LONDON BAR WITH NEW FLING!

The Mirror 08:11 A WILD NIGHT OUT ON THE TOWN FOR 1975 SINGER AND FRIENDS TURNS SOUR

In all the new texts I’d gotten Jamie had been the one to send the first few articles, but one seemingly spiralled into another, like a spider spinning its deceitful web.

Matty’s sudden bout of boisterous laughter startled me though, the sound so unexpected, and I shot a hasty look over to find an amused smile dancing on his lips whilst he shook his head.

"Erm," I attempted, but stopped there when I realised I didn't quite have the words, or rather no actual clue on what to say.

"Same old story." Matty told me, shrugging it off as though him being pictured simply standing next to Indra, the friend of a friend from last night, in a crowded bar was enough to warrant such a spectacle.

"But you barely said two words to her!" I retorted when Matty handed me back my phone, surprised by his utter nonchalance.

He only shrugged again! "All publicity's good publicity, and all that crap. Besides, I know the truth, the people who matter know the truth," He dipped his chin over at me then for some reason, "And so does she. They'll find something, or someone else, to hound soon enough."

"What, so it really doesn't bother you then? Being made out to be this person you're not."

"A slag, you mean?" Matty teased as a mischievous smile limned his lips.

Tutting, I could only roll my eyes at him before I forced myself to my feet and wandered over to the sink. The bigshot singer made an abrupt noise of indignation when he realised that I really did intend to redo all of his hard work.

"Oi, I already did those!"

I couldn’t hide my smirk as I rinsed the plates off properly, honestly glad for the distraction. "And you did quite well, what with it being your first try."

Matty scowled halfheartedly, but I took note of the faint blush that flushed the back of his neck. Seemed like I wasn't too far off in my assumption.

"So, what did Jamie have to say about it all then?" Matty quipped, swiftly changing the subject.

I let him have it, not saying a word more on the topic before I went to dry my hands. "What I think you mean to ask is, why did he text me?"

"Well, yeah." Matty replied with another single shoulder shrug, "How did he even know that we were together?"

"Made a good guess?" I supplied simply when I found that I didn't really have the answer to that particular question.

But privately, I reckoned that maybe Jamie hadn't realised that Matty and I had been together at all. I hadn't been photographed in any articles, from what I'd seen at least, and neither me nor Matty had had any contact with him until right now.

Maybe Jamie had just wanted to let me in on what was happening, on the know, perhaps he'd wanted someone to rant or share his frustrations with. It wouldn't have been the first time.

So I made a mental note to message him again later, when Matty was long gone and I had time to stew on all of this.

"Enough about him anyway, what are you up to today?" Matty asked me as he jumped backup into the counter. I consciously avoided looking at the way his thighs pressed against the granite, the tattoos that marked the length of his skin.

"Apart from bleaching your arse off of my countertops?" I snarked back and snorted when Matty merely wiggled his arse in retort, "I've got a couple of things to sort today."

"Work things?"

I hummed my general assent but avoided meeting Matty’s eye, not wanting to outright lie. I really did have plans though, plans to waste the day away with Teddy, grab a late lunch, and maybe head off to the cinema to watch that new superhero film he'd been yapping on about for the past two weeks. Only, I couldn't tell any of that to Matty.

"What about you?" I asked instead (always so polite!) as I went about the kitchen, clearing away what remained of our cooking session. I'd rather get the majority done now, than fret over it later.

"Not much." Matty mumbled as he ran a fingertip along the edge of a nearby cupboard, kicking his feet up when I swept past. "Avoid Jamie, dodge a couple calls, maybe meet up with some friends. Think Ross got the new FIFA, so might bug him for a bit."

I hummed around a small smile, returning the dry cutlery back to its rightful drawer, "That Danny guy?"

Matty flashed me a knowing smile. "Mayhaps."

"Mayhaps?" I mimicked, shooting him a questioning brow.

"It's a combination of words, Squeaks. Emphasises the meaning!"

I snorted. "I'm sure."

Matty chuckled quietly to himself before he finally pushed himself off of my kitchen side and back onto his feet. "Well, I'd best get out of your hair then. Leave you to do your important work and what not."

I faked a sigh of evident relief and dodged the swat he aimed at my arm, grinning as I rounded a table chair.

"Don't act like you won't miss my Godlike presence, darling." Matty looked down his nose at me mockingly as he made his way over to the doorway.

A belly laugh bubbled up out of me upon hearing that and Matty all but lit up at the sound. "Godlike? Wow, it's nice to know that fame really does get to some people’s heads."

Matty cut his eyes at me and with a mirthful smile, flipped me off. "Dick. I'm just gonna head up and get changed. That alright?"

I dipped my head, feigning wiping down the table before I glanced up to watch him walk away, finding my smile never faltering even after Matty had disappeared from sight.

It wasn't too long later when he popped back up again though, all dressed up in a pair of expensive boots and the tight trousers he'd been wearing last night. I didn’t miss the flash of my jumper that had been hidden somewhere behind the zip of his jacket though, but I didn’t say anything, pleased that he’d taken a liking to it.

Looking at him, it didn't even seem as though he'd been out drinking all night, or that he'd just rolled out of the bed of some other. He looked rather lovely like this, still a tad bit sleepy- it was all in the crook of his smile, you see- and soft.

"Well, I'd best be off then." Matty announced from where he was now stood idling waiting in the hallway.

I propped myself up against the bannister and found myself wearing an amused smile, drinking him in. "Best be."

He grinned back over at me and just when it felt as though he was about to reach out, he stuffed one hand into his jacket pocket and pointed at me with the other. "I'll text you later, yeah? So make sure to actually reply this time, all right?"

Rather dramatically, I blew out a large breath and crossed my arms over the ball that sat atop the bannister’s wooden beam. "Seems like a hard task..."

I laughed when Matty shot me a particularly nasty glare, but relented.

"I'll be waiting on your many messages, my dear." I corrected, doing my best to feign the doting wife sending her husband off to war, even going as far as to clutch at my jumper in a pained goodbye.

"You’d better." Matty smirked and when I took a step away from the staircase, he decided to take that as his leave.

Though it was just as he was halfway out the front door that he paused and turned back to chance a glance at me, ring clad fingers toying with the latch on the inside lock.

"We might've dropped the subject but, just know, if I ever see that ginger prick near you again I will put my fist through his face hard enough that he'll be shitting out my rings." And with that Matty dipped his chin at me once and let the door swing shut behind him.

I wasn’t ashamed to say that I stood there in the silence that encompassed the house for a very long moment, before my lips finally quirked upwards and I let myself laugh.

It seemed that everyone was right, Matty Healy truly did have a way with words. Only, the wrong kind.

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tamsinswriting · 13 days ago

Text

Free Fanfiction Idea to Good Home

Howzit All

As anyone who knows me knows that I have a ton of fanfiction and other writing ideas and that I try to work on as many as I possibly can (currently sitting at 18--3 gifts, 1 Coco fanfic, 4 Star Wars fanfics, 2 TMNT 2003 fanfics, 4 Good Omens fanfics, 4 Original stories)

The problem?

I've had 7 more Good Omens fanfiction ideas that I'm forcing myself not to work on, but they're taking up too much headspace.

So, I thought that I'd share them here, in case anyone feels like taking a crack at writing them. That's not to say I won't pick them up later when some of these are off my plate, but it won't be for a while.

If any of these appeal to you, please let me know (and tag me if you write them!)

Perfume AU. (Either human or as angels and demons)

One of the Ineffables is convinced that the ordinary perfume they made is actually a love potion so they believe that all the romance coming from the other one is fake or a compulsion. (It's real, they're just being daft)

2. A Wedding Date AU

Inspired by the movie with Deborah Messing in 2005, Aziraphale is heading home to England for his brother, Gabriel's, wedding. He decides that, rather than face his family alone, he'll hire Crowley, the escourt, to be his boyfriend. (I saw similarities between Gabriel and Kat's sister in the movie, which is why Aziraphale is Kat and Crowley is Nick, though I probably would change the plot so there's no "win back the ex"

3. Marry Me AU

I heard about a movie with J-Lo, where she is a famous singer who plans to get married on stage in front of the world. But, before she says her vows, she finds out that her fiancé is cheating on her. So, she sees Owen Wilson's character in the crowd holding a "marry me" sign (he's not a fan, his friend forced him to go to the concert) and says "yes" so they get married. This sounds like an Ineffables human AU to me . . .

4. Fae Au

One of the Ineffables does a ritual where they end up married to a Fae (they had no idea that's what the ritual was supposed to do). The Fae Ineffable is, however, bound to the Fae court and has to either get the human's true name to enslave them or make them fall in love and break their heart to amuse their ruler. They end up falling for the human.

5. Arranged Marriage AU.

One of the Ineffables is fed up with dating and being alone, so they hire an matchmaker to facilitate an arranged marriage (which are done for many reasons by the company, from hiding your sexuality to getting tax benefits). They end up married to the other Ineffable. Could be Strangers to Lovers or Enemies to lovers. Lot's of pining, though.

6. Reverse Female Omens.

Aziraphale is a female demon posted on Earth while Crowley is a female Archangel. Crowley tried to reach out when the whole "Flood" thing was happening, but the demon wasn't interested (Aziraphale wanted to be friends, but Hell commended her for trying to get an Archangel to Fall and so she rejected Crowley's friendship in case it happened) But now Armageddon is approaching and the two might have to work together to avoid it.

7. Blood and Chocolate AU

Loosely inspired by the movie (I didn't really like the book). Aziraphale is a werewolf and his pack (led by Gabriel (yes, the movie character had the same name)) is pressurising him to take a female mate, despite knowing he is gay, as they believe his bloodline is powerful. He's trying to avoid the problem as much as possible. Crowley is a monster hunter who had ended up in Aziraphale's city looking for werewolves. They meet, but don't realise that the one is a monster and the other is a monster hunter.

There they are: the ideas that are brewing in my head. As I mentioned, if anyone wants to write them,. please feel free. Just tag me so I can read them (and, if you don't want to write, please reblog so these ideas can find someone to write them.)

#writing #good omens #fanfiction #aziraphale #crowley #fanfiction ideas #fanfiction prompts #good omens fanfiction ideas #human aus #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #reverse au #wip

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writing-whump · 5 months ago

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Would love a part 3 of fevered Isaiah!! (psst. they’ll have to call seline and Matt at some point, right? Maybe something about them picking zaya up when he’s a bit better and taking care of him until he’s fully recovered?)

Also he’s breaking my heart with the mom thing :(

But also “ow” was so cute <3 🍄

Thank you! I really liked this idea cause I didn't see it coming at all and then it kind of fit together...emotional stressed out Hector, Arnie with a headache, Isaiah still very weak.

I managed to put in as many requests as I could! Big thank you to everyone who send their ideas!!✨️

Isaiah sick part 3

Arnie woke up in the morning on the couch, freezing. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to identify what could have woken him up and how he got there.

The flashes from last night flooded his head in a rush, making him stagger as he got up. Ah right.

The door closed softly which alerted him to further movement.

Hector got out from their guest room, currently occupied by Isaiah. He didn't move at all, rooted to the spot, eyes downcast, shirt all crumpled.

"Hex?" Arnie whispered.

Hector didn't lift his head.

Arnie tiptoed closer to put a hand on his elbow. "Hey..."

Hector let out a heavy sigh before suddenly pulling him into a hug. Arnie's head went back a little as he was crushed against his brother's chest unexpectedly. "That bad, huh?"

Hector said nothing, but breathed in, all loud and shaky near Arnie's ear.

This must have been the longest hug Arnie had gotten from Hector in a while. And it was for a change for his sake more than Arnie's. "I'm sorry. You could have woken me up-"

"No. You got the first half, I got the second," Hector mumbled, still holding him like he barely kept himself from breaking Arnie's bones.

"How is he?"

That was when Hector finally loosed his grip. "Asleep. Still feverish, but nothing like before. I will hear if something comes up."

Hector trailed towards the living room though like he craved nothing more than to put a bit of distance between himself and that room. He collapsed on the coach into the mess of blankets Arnie slept in, rubbing at his forehead with both hands.

Arnie felt torn for a second, but figured Hector wouldn't have left Isaiah alone if he wasn't semi-stable. He sat down next to him. Waiting for whatever would bubble up. It wasn't like Hector to suppress his feelings.

"I fucked up real bad."

Arnie perked up, eyes narrowing. "Whatever do you mean?" There was a lot to choose from.

"With Isaiah."

"He said something in his sleep?"

Hector hesitated. "He said a bunch of stuff that he wasn't aware of. But did you see...his look in the bathtub?" Hector carded a hand through his hair, his face still pressed against the other one. "How scared of me he was?"

"He was just panicking cause he didn't understand what was happening."

"He must hate me so much." Hector looked up to Arnie, his expression crumbled and heartbroken. His amber eyes were shimmering. "He would really believe I would- but why wouldn't he, right? He could never rely on me back at home- I told him when we saw each other- such horrible things- and he-" Hector broke off, breathing picking up as he spiraled himself into a panic.

Arnie put a hand on his shoulder, shifting closer. "Hex."

"You never gave up on him. But I did. I hated him for so long, I played right into father's hands, into every self-destructive, self-loathing martyr illusion Isaiah wanted-"

"Hex," Arnie said, more firmly now as he own stomach somersaulted at the words.

Hector made a strangled sound at the back of his throat, then looked away, burying his face back into his hands. "He is right to hate me for that."

"He doesn't hate you," Arnie sighed, climbing behind Hector's heaving back.

"But he should. How could I have ever thought- ever believed- ever given up on him like that?"

Arnie leaned against Hector's back, wrapping his arms around his broad chest. Just holding him as he fought with the air in his lungs. He was trembling all over in Arnie's hold.

"You didn't give up," Arnie said into the silence when he thought Hector calmed down enough to listen. "You followed after him. Trained like crazy to get a branch position in the city he was at. Went to the same school. Did missions around his neighbourhood. You kept obsessing and hating him, wanted to defeat him, overcome him - don't you get it? You were always trying to stay connected to him. The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference."

The trembling was dying down. Arnie propped his chin on the top of Hector's head, the curls tickling against his cheek.

He dipped forward as Hector folded over his knees with a quiet gasp.

Arnie understood before Hector. Just like he usually did when it came to Hector's emotions.

"Take deep breaths. It's gonna be alright. Don't worry about anything, okay? I'll check on Isaiah."

It was a testament of how badly Hector felt, still bend forward guiltiling himself into a stomachache, that he let Arnie take over.

...

"You look pale."

Arnie almost jumped out of his skin when Isaiah said that. It was the most coherent sentence since last night.

"I look pale? You should look at yourself, man." He was so happy to hear Isaiah speak he jumped up onto the edge of the bed. A bit quicker than he should have, maybe. There was pressure building behind his eyes.

"What happened?" Isaiah still lost lost beneath the covers, hair sprawled around his sheet white face. But his eyes were clearer now, getting back their worried edge.

"Not much," Arnie said nonchalantly. "You got sick and feverish. Hector watched over you at night."

Arnie picked up the glass of rehydration solution, inserting the straw with a hint of satisfaction that it was proving useful. He held it against Isaiah's lips until the older man took a couple of hesitant sips.

"Where is Hector now?" Trust Isaiah to pick up on that.

"Taking a breather. Didn't get a wink of sleep."

Isaiah's frown deeped into something hurt and guilty.

"Not that that's a problem!" Arnie added quickly. "He was happy to do it."

Isaiah stared at him in a way that made him shiver. "Something's wrong." It wasn't a question.

"No, you are just sick." Which was technically the source of the problem. Arnie put his hand against Isaiah's cheek and then forehead. Still low-grade fever, but getting better.

"Get some more sleep. Everything’s fine." They could get into the drama tomorrow.

Isaiah looked like he wanted to protest, blinking rapidly to get himself awake.

Arnie took his hand, rubbing over his knuckles. The effect was surprisingly strong and almost immediate. Isaiah's body relaxed although he didn't, eyelids falling shut.

Arnie could tell when he went under by the frown clearing away.

...

Isaiah woke up rapid pounding in his chest.

He was sweaty all over again and his heart was racing as if he was running or in the middle of a difficult spar. He felt every beat against his ribs, the muscles straining. Was he supposed to be so aware of where his heart was and what was hurting about it?

Lifting himself up proved to be a challenge. His arms were shaking from the strain, but he wanted to see if sitting up would help with the fluttering sensation of something big and angry trapped in his ribcage.

As the pressure eased slightly, a new problem emerged—dizziness. The room spun wildly, preventing him from focusing.

He swayed on the bed and threw his legs over the edge of the bed blindly. Giving the walls time to get back into place and stop waving.

Nobody was in his room. But at least he recognized where he was, so he wasn't hallucinating from fever anymore.

When the waving on the floor and walls receded, Isaiah took a couple of deep breaths in preparation to drag himself to his feet. The room swayed and swam again, but he was braced for it, leaning on the wall for support.

The apartment was too quiet. Hector should have heard his out of the bounds bearing heart, but didn't.

Something more serious must have been happening and he wanted to see what it was, damn it.

He struggled with the door handle and had to go at snail pace. A hand against the wall at all times. He took frequent stops to just breathe and blink the blacks spots from his vision.

Isaiah reached for his shadow on instinct. He was hurting so he wanted it fixed. His shadow obediently rippled up and through him. Focusing on his chest, trying to ease the painful papilations. The hopeful anticipation made it better for a couple of seconds, but by the time his shadow pulled back, the pounding was back the same.

Ah. So this was the heart issue then. Made worse by the fever strain?

At least he wouldn't have to worry about it being serious. Gridding your teeth and powering through was his specialty, anyway. He was more frustrated by the slow pace he had to take and the several dizzy spells that forced him to take breaks.

By the time he made it to the living room, his legs were shaking, muscles randomly twitching. The thudding of his heart got worse, more intense, pounding loudly in his ears. This was exhausting as hell.

Hector was sitting curled up on the sofa, head in his hands. Arnie was on the floor by his side, head leaning on his forearm with a pained line between his eyebrows.

They both looked up as he shuffled nearer in shock. Truly too preoccupied to have heard him. "Alright, what's going on?"

"Why are you standing up?" Hector said, shoulders jumping as he glared at Isaiah. Then he winced as if the mere sight hurt and looked to the side.

"Because," Isaiah grunted, leaning his whole side and shoulder against the wall to keep his balance. "What's wrong with you two?"

"No one was there, when you woke up," Arnie realized, clumsily climbing to his feet. "I'm sorry. How's the fever? I'll get you more aspirin and water, okay?" He hurried away apologetically.

Isaiah focused his swaying gaze on Hector. "You look worse than me."

"You wish," Hector murmured instinctively, but the playful bite was missing. "You are barely keeping upright. Sit down at least." But Isaiah noted that Hector didn't move to help.

"You couldn't have caught it so quickly," Isaiah mused as he eased himself on the ground. Everything was spinning again and he was getting light-headed. His heart was fluttering and jumping painfully and he felt like he coud pass out any second. "What happened last night?"

Hector pressed his lips together together, hands balled into fists.

Isaiah's head pounded in synch with his heart as he tried to focus. The clarity from sleeping was leaving, his thoughts sticking together at random places. His heart made another painful flip.

"Your heartbeat is weird," Hector said suddenly, tilting his head in his direction.

"I noticed," Isaiah said dryly. He was getting frustrated. There was nothing he could do to help. Physically or mentally, he couldn't even grasp whatever the problem was. "It's fucking exhausting," he said quietly, face twisting as he rode out another flutter. His hands and feet were tingling.

Hector's eyes widened and he sprang to his feet this time. "All the more reason to get you back in bed. Come on."

Hector's hands were stiff and cold as he helped Isaiah back to his feet and to the room. Isaiah was barely registering at that point, the way back so much faster than his long stride to get there.

The whole time, Hector didn't look him in the face or meet his gaze. Something about his was closed off, upset, like knives under his skin. Hurting, but buried too deep to be visible.

Hector was about to hurry away from Isaiah's reach, knowing he couldn't follow a second time.

"Arnie looks like he is in pain," Isaiah croaked.

Hector stopped in his tracks, but didn't turn back.

"You look like you are too. Please. You gotta tell me what's wrong," Isaiah insisted, voice trailing away.

Hector's hand gripped the doorframe. It creaked from the force. "Go back to sleep and get better. That's enough."

Isaiah's eyes were burning and he knew it was from the fever and the constant fluttering pain. But not being able to help, solve or get involved? He could not imagine anything worse.

So he reached for his phone, thoughtfully prepared on the nightstand by Arnie.

...

"Is this the right place?" Seline asked, looking around even with her heavy bag filled with groceries. "It's such a fancy building."

"That's Wolfson pack for ya," Matthew grumbled. He was carrying two even bigger bags. "Definitely the right one. I can smell Hector all the way from here."

"Won't we get in trouble with his pack?"

Matthew took a careful breath through his nose. "He is the only wolf on the floor. They must be scared shitless to live any closer."

Seline nodded. That was good. Hector and Isaiah being on good terms was still not quite in the open, considering the truth about Isaiah's father wasn't known to the rest of the pack.

"I still can't believe he allowed us to come," Matthew said, eyebrows furrowed as they moved forward.

"He outright asked us," Seline said, agreeing with the sentiment. It was highly unusual for Isaiah. All the more because they have never been to Hector's and Arnie's place before.

She opened the door first since Matthew's hands were full and she wasn't sure about his reaction. Matthew and Hector could be considered allies, right? Since they have helped each other before and because of Isaiah...

Yeah, better she went first. No wolf would harm a witch. They could actually make use of that natural calming effect here.

A slim blond kid was just exiting the kitchen, when they came in. This had Hector jumping to his side that second.

They weren't expected then.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Hector growled at Matthew. He looked pale and sickly green. Like he was the one sick. It was a bit hard to take him seriously, stripped down to a white undershirt and shorts.

"Saving your sorry ass, as usual," Matthew said, puffing his chest out with a grin.

"I didn't ask you to-"

"Hey, you must be Arnie," Seline interjected, looking at the smaller blond. Arnie looked so much like Isaiah she was still gawking. Like a perfect mini-copy, minus the blond hair that was longer, more tousled and therefore wavy. His wide green eyes stirred something protective in her.

18 years old. Her brother Dylan was 19 and she knew the age didn't change anything about the teen being a big buff, but stupid and childish just the same. It was one trouble after another with him. But Arnie looked young. It made her heart ache to think Isaiah was this age when he left the pack behind.

"I'm Seline. Nice to meet you." She offered her hand hesitantly since she had to reach beside Hector to do so. "Isaiah told me so much about you."

Arnie looked a bit awed but took her hand. "Hello." He looked at Hector for directions like a lost puppy. The older put himself protectively between Matthew and Arnie, glaring daggers at the redhead.

Matthew shook his head. "Chill out, man. I wouldn't do anything to Isaiah's little brother."

"But to a random human kid you would?"

"Fuck you."

Hector growled.

"You are on his territory, you know," Arnie said quietly. "You shouldn't open your mouth at him like that."

Matthew narrowed his eyes at Arnie. "You are pretty mouthy yourself."

Arnie stood his ground, despite the wolf being much taller than him. His green eyes glinted with spite. "I'm not gonna cower in front of you just cause you have a shadow and a temper, mate.

Seline cleared her throat. That was worse than she expected. "Isaiah said we better come because you aren't doing so well." Both brothers seemed pale and strained to her.

"We are fine," Hector hissed. "We don't need help and we didn't call you and what the fuck is this supposed to mean-"

"It means you managed to stress Isaiah out. Again." It sounded like a joke, but Matthew's expression was anything but.

Hector's face reddened and he actually winced like he got punched. Arnie scowled. "Who do you think you are to-"

"Okay," Seline said. Matthew was way too protective and strung up to not react to Hector, who seemed way too unsteady on his feet to her. "Matt, would you be so nice and go check on Isaiah. Thank you."

It was strange to her that he was alone in the room while the two were roaming here. Something was off. "I got a bunch of groceries, so maybe one of you could show me where to put them?"

Matthew moved to sidestep Hector, but the other wolf didn't budge out of the way.

"Hector," Seline amended, kicking herself. All that stuff about hierarchies and shadows that Isaiah tried to explain came to her mind. "You guys have been doing a great job helping. Can we help too? You know how seconds get with their leaders out of commission." Nobody minded she was Isaiah's girlfriend and dying to go check on him herself. "May we?"

Hector huffed, but something in him deflated at the formulation, his shadow satisfied. Matthew quickly walked through to Isaiah's room, leaving her alone with the brothers.

"He's an asshole," Hector growled, then swayed and braced against the wall. One of his arms snaked around his stomach.

Seline frowned, not sure if she should call him out on it or not. "Hector-"

"I'm fine," he grumbled, no heat in his voice. Her witchy magical aura was doing its job. He didn't mind her talking back or being there. She wasn't sure if she would dare to come if that wasn't an effect she could count on. "Help Arnie, he's got a headache."

He turned away. Seline was about to ask more questions, but when she noticed he went into the bathroom, she stopped. She would check on him later.

"Headache or migraine?" Seline said, looking at Arnie. The kid was still pounting, looking between Isaiah's door and the bathroom where Hector had just disappeared to.

"You know about that too? Geez," Arnie said with a wince. "What groceries?"

Seline shrugged. "It sounded to me like Isaiah wanted you taken care of. I got things for a soup, meds, all kinds of things for stress, digestion, fever,...painkillers..." she said, looking at him.

Arnie sighed. "It's nothing. I'm used to it."

"What number?"

Arnie frowned at her. "How do you know about the numbers?"

"You are not the only one with migraines in the family. If it's just the onset of a migraine, maybe we could stop it from developing further. What about you lie down, get some painkillers, and relax? Would that be possible?"

Arnie shuffled his feet. "I should help Hector, he is..."

"Taking it hard, isn't he," Seline said gently. "I heard he gets sick when emotional."

"I don't know if I like that you know so much," Arnie said with a grimace.

"It's not my fault Isaiah can't shut up about you two," she said with a wink. She felt another wave of affection and protectiveness, looking at how undecided and lost Arnie was.

"Did you have any breakfast yet?"

Arnie looked away, hands going into his pockets. Was he boycotting her?

"You have been helping a lot, haven't you. But you won't help anyone if the headache gets into a full blown migraine, right?"

He looked at her sullenly then, biting into his cheek.

"You don't have to feel bad about it. Just let me take care of you so you can be back to worrying full stop. Did you have anything to eat yet?

Arnie shook his head no.

"Then maybe eating could also help with the sugar low. What are you in the mood for? Ham and eggs? Croissant? Cucumber salad?"

"Cucumber salad?"

"Just cut cucumbers and yogurt and salt. Best food for warm summer days."

When Arnie didn't immediately say no, she took it as a yes.

...

Isaiah couldn't really sleep. He just drifted in and out from a pained haze. There were flashes of memories and the faces of his brothers. A feeling of dread. His chest hurt, like something was pressing on it.

There were sounds coming from the door, but he wasn't sure he wasn't just dreaming it up.

Until light came from the opened door, the only source since the windows were covered.

"Hey, Zaya, don't pretend you are asleep, I can tell."

Isaiah opened his eyes at Matthew's playful tone, immense relief washing over him. "Hey."

Matthew invited himself inside, perching on the edge of the bed. "Dude, you look rough. It's somehow hitting you worse than me."

"I'm sorry I had to call you," Isaiah whispered, slowly lifting himself up on his arms.

"I'm sorry you caught the plague from me," Matthew said back, waving off his apology. "And I'm glad you called. I would be fucking pissed if you didn't, to be honest."

Isaiah snickered feebly, finally managing to sit up. The room was spinning again. His head felt floaty, like it was about to fall off.

"Okay, spill it. What's wrong and what can I do?"

"Oh, you know. Feverish, dizzy, scaring the crap out of everyone."

Matthew seemed to have picked up on how hard it was for Isaiah to move, cause he shifted out of the way, leg bent on the bed to be closer. "Still with the fever?"

"It's better. But I really wanna get out of here." He hung his head, blinking at the black spots in his vision. "Please."

"Man, if you aren't feeling good yet, we can just stay here. Don't think your two hosts are very eager to let you go."

Isaiah gulped down uneasily. "I never should have stayed. Shouldn't have come. They never should have seen me like this-"

"Zaya, come on. You can't give yourself such impossible goals. Everyone gets sick sometimes. They will get over it."

Isaiah fought hard against the pressure in his throat. "B-but they are so broken down by this - look at what it does to them." Arnie was on the edge of a migraine, Hector barely standing from how nauseous he felt, and neither being able to look him in the eye. "Must be so disappointing-"

"Cut that crap," Matthew said sternly. "They are not. You just scared them a little."

"Then let's leave here already," Isaiah all but whined, swaying forward. Matthew turned so Isaiah could lean into his side, taking his weight.

"Nope. I think this is good, actually. They need to see this. That you are human too." He draped his arm around Isaiah's sweaty back, pulling him closer. "Just maybe portion it a out little more next time."

Isaiah chuckled, then coughed when that limited his oxygen a bit more than he wanted. He pressed his forehead into Matthew's shoulder. His chest felt tight and he was dripping with sweat from how much his heart struggled to be visible and on his mind at all times.

"Your breathing is all off," Matthew said, eyebrows knitted together in concern. He rubbed Isaiah's arm up and down. "And why is your heart doing that?"

Isaiah clenched his jaw, plastering up a crooked smile. "That's a new one."

"I don't think you should be feverish for that long with...that."

Isaiah was just happy he could let go so completely in front of Matthew. He was basically slumped against him, the pressure from his chest and his breathing coming a little easier when upright.

"Anything I can do? Aside moving you, that is."

Isaiah took a shuddering breath, closing his eyes. He didn't understand this at all. It wasn't like Matthew could take away from the crushing pressure, the way his chest seized and let go or the tiredness of the fast pulse. But leaning against him like this, him being all concerned and eager to play a support pillar made it feel more manageable. Warmth was spreading over his chest and his hands weren't trembling so much anymore.

When Isaiah didn't say anything, Matthew sighed. The hand around his back went up into his hair, brushing the sweaty strands away from his face. A trickle of perspiration ran down the side of Isaiah's face. He shuddered at the sensation.

Matthew grabbed one of the drying up towels from the night and gently nabbed at his face and neck. "Christ, you are giving your body a run for it."

"Wasn't like this yesterday...chest hurts all over," he said quietly, daring to rub at his left side where his heart was pounding against the flesh and his skin with a vengeance.

"Okay, shhh. Relax. Breathe and relax, everything is fine."

"Feels like I'm gonna pass out. Since morning. Just..." he motioned at himself, hiding his face against the spot between Matt's neck and shoulder.

Matthew tensed, but his voice was steady. "Yeah, I got you, man. It's fine. You know if you feel like...passing out, then just...ehh...do it? I'm right here."

Isaiah had to smile a little at the reassurance. He turned his face to the side so he could breathe more freely, still leaning against Matthew's shoulder. He fisted his hand in Matthew's shirt like he could hold onto him when he started to fall.

"I hate seeing you like this," Matthew growled in frustration. "I wish there was something more to do. Like pills or something that would make it better."

"I'm inclined to agree with you today," Isaiah whispered, letting his eyes fall shut. Whether he fell unconscious or just asleep, he was too tired to fight it.

And he knew Matthew would be there either way.

...

"How is Arnie?" Hector said tiredly.

When Hector didn't immediately bite her head off, Seline slipped inside the bathroom, closing the door gently behind her. "I got him to eat, lay down and take some painkillers. If he manages to sleep, he will should feel better soon."

Hector peered at her with dull eyes. He was curled up on the floor, between the toilet and the bathtub. Sweat was beading on his big eyebrows and he was hugging his knees to himself.

She stood there awkwardly, watching him. She was not good with the soothing words and hand-holding. But she could be practical. "Did you throw up?"

Hector turned his head away. There was a long minute of silence where she could see the muscle in his jaw clenching and relaxing. "...No. Still feels like I might."

"Stomach hurts or just nauseous?"

He lay his head on top of his knees. "Kinda both."

"Okay." Selined went out and returned quickly with a small bottle of coke. "Take a sip of this."

He glared at her. "For real? Why?"

"Phosphoric acid, caffeine and sugar. All really good against nausea." Especially when it comes from the mind, she added to herself.

Hector gave her an indignant look, but she just knelt by his side, waiting. Finally, he took the bottle, screwing it open to take a small sip.

"There. It works like a charm, I swear."

"Not the kind of charm I expected," Hector grumbled. He tensed a little after the first sip, but then relaxed and took a few more.

"Ice cream also helps. I got a bland one with me." When Hector gave her another weirded out look, she shrugged. "Something about the coldness is soothing."

Hector uncurled his legs, taking more daring sips from the coke as he leaned against the wall.

"You know," Hector said after a while, "this is a pretty crude invasion of privacy."

Seline sighed. "Look. I can leave you alone if you prefer, but sometimes just having someone around helps. Mind if I sit with you for a bit?"

Hector was quiet again, before clenching his teeth together and giving a tiny little nod.

Seline suppressed a smile and sat down on the floor next to him. She stretched out her hand. "If you want, you know, the witchy kinda help..."

It wasn't entirely comfortable to be touching a strange wolf and she would be having contact with his shadow...which was pretty damn intimate kind of contact. But she knew the magic in her skin was humming to him, that he was able to react more calmly around her and if the contact itself helped clear his head and stop feeling so shitty...she was willing.

Hector recoiled from her. "No." He balled his hands into fists, glaring angrily at the opposite wall.

He was upset, but suppressed his shadow's reaction. He was polite or brought up strictly enough to not take a witch's offer of contact lightly, even though his shadow must have been singing to touch her.

Seline could tell he had a temper going and he was quick to raise to Matt's provocations, but his shadow never moved. He was more like Isaiah that way.

Seline settled more comfortably against the wall, wondering what else to say. Silence was a good tool though. People were so uncomfortable with it they often started talking just to fill it.

"I'm so lame, aren't I," Hector said into the quiet echoing off the bathroom tiles. "He is sick and I'm-" he broke off, pressing his closed fist against his forehead.

Seline didn't say anything, mirroring his position of hugging her knees and watching him with bright blue eyes.

"During...during the fever, he got scared. Of me," Hector admitted, talking slowly. "And I get it. He doesn't have a reason to trust me. I was the one who-...but he acts like he does and he shouldn't, cause I don't deserve it anyway." His throat bobbed audibly at the end and he pressed his lips together tightly.

"Are you upset he trusts you or that he doesn't?"

Hector shook his head, head leaning more against the wall as he squeezed his eyes shut. "I made a mistake. I shouldn't- he shouldn't be even giving me a chance."

Seline leaned her head back just as he did, looking at the wall, parallel to his gaze.

She was starting to see the trick. Hector figured out a balance of not letting his shadow go, but expressing his feelings openly. It was completely different from Matt or Isaiah. Expecially in contrast to the latter, it was very refreshing.

"Your shadow," she said. "You are angry, but it doesn't react. Matthew can't do it. Usually, his emotions and shadow are too tightly linked."

Hector's forehead creased as he opened his eyes. "What?"

"But I still trust him. Love him, you know? It's not like that stops just because you make a mistake."

"That was the biggest mistake of my life."

"Well, at least you can make sure you won't do it again," she said.

"But what if I don't deserve another chance?" Hector whispered.

"I don't believe that's your call. He should decide if you are worth the effort. And he obviously decided you are. Don't doubt what strength he puts into that choice."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Don't leave him. Don't do it again. Act like you deserve his trust until you do." She looked at him and added more gently: "Prove it to him and to yourself."

Hector met her gaze steadily, before breaking off with a sudden burst of hoarse laugh. "Jesus, that's heavy literature. Do you have an answer for everything?"

"Well..." she blushed, looking away. "You asked."

#sickfic #fever #whump #bromance #hurt/comfort #angst #werewolf wip #my writing #Isaiah #Hector #Arnie #this is so long omg #I wanted to contrast Matt vs Hex as carerakers with Isaiah for some time #also Sel finally meeting Arnie!#I have a certain dynamic bw Sel and Hex👀#hope it works out #Matt and Hector somehow always manage to say the personally worst things to each other lol

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nikosama13 · 8 months ago

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Childhood "friend" (New! Ace x Reader)

Description: You and your childhood friend Ace, met up again in Alabasta Kingdom! After exploring for a while and ship hopping you found yourself walking into a restaurant called “The Spice Bean”. Only to be reunited with your childhood friend. The real question is.. Have things changed since the two of you split..? Read and find out! Side Notes: Hello my loves! I really hope you enjoy this fic. Ace isn’t my strongest character to write about so if this seems a little wonky just ignore it- (Probably spelling errors + my requests should be open) (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

Consider the following..?

Enjoy the read!

~~~

You were in Alabasta Kingdom, and after exploring around you wanted to grab a bite to eat. So you went inside a random restaurant called The Spice Bean.

You were sitting at the bar waiting for your food impatiently when you saw in the corner of your eye what seemed to be a familiar black-haired male next to you sleeping, his face flat into his plate of food.

Your eyes widened at the realization. It was your old childhood friend, Ace. The both of you had gone on many fun adventures together and made each other happy. That was, until he left to become a pirate. Leaving you alone in your hometown island, to sit in your own dismay.

The flashbacks of him randomly sleeping in the worst places and you finding him also came back to you, the memories of dragging his sleeping body back home made you smile.

After the flood of memories came back to you, you decided to poke at his head with a fork, gently of course. In the hopes of waking him up to speak.

Eventually he did wake up, his eyes sparkled just the way you remembered it. The confident and determined look was still the same, just as you left it. Soon enough Ace picked his head up and realized it was you. “Y-y/n..? Is that really you..?” He lightly rubbed his eyes in order to make sure he wasn’t dreaming… Dreaming of you. “Ace!” you smiled, springing up from the bar stool you were sitting in and hugged him tightly.

He grinded at the reassurance he wasn't dreaming and that you were actually here in his presence. After you sat back down, he spoke. “It’s been so long since..” he looked away from you, feeling ashamed for leaving you.

An awkward moment of silence settled in between the both of you.

But you decided to break it. “Ace, I don't care about what you did in the past, I understand why you did it..” You smiled at him, hoping he would feel better. “I'm sorry.” He continued to look down and away from you.

You hugged him again and squeezed him a little tighter. You swore you could have seen a small blush creep up behind his ear and face. “So how have you been?” you grinded as you desperately tried to change the subject. “I’ve been fine, I guess… I’m the new 2nd division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates.” he looked up at you slowly, confirming he was previously blushing. “I- I-.. 2nd division commander of the.. WHITEBEARD PIRATES!?” you yelled in shock, maybe a little too loud.. “Shhhh- I can’t have people knowing that right now..” he placed his finger on your lips.

When he realized that he touched your lips, he pulled away quickly and felt a burning sensation on his cheeks once again. He was used to physical touch with you when you were kids but now it was different.. “H-how have you been y/n..?” He tried to control his blushing state, and remove you from his thoughts. “Oh me..? I’ve been just great! I’m working on getting a pirate crew to go explore the Grand Line. Right now I’ve just been ship hopping.” you giggled with a small itching feeling that something was different with Ace.

You just couldn't place your finger on it..

“Well that’s good to hear..” he picked at the food he was previously sleeping in. After another long silence emerged you both continued eating, trying to make the situation as un-awkward as possible. In this case Ace decided to break the silence. “Uhm.. y/n.. D-did you miss me” he shifted in his seat and glared at you. “Of course Ace!” you spoke in a more-than-certain tone. “Good.. because I did too.. And I.. uhm, have been thinking of you..” Ace confessed, he was trying his hardest to avoid eye contact with you. “So.. I’ve been wanting to do this for a while..” he continued, his voice shaky and shy. After a moment of processing the words that were coming from him he turned towards you. Now staring at you dead in the eyes, he leaned in. Closer than what you were comfortable with. Then it happened in an instant.. He kissed you. Your childhood friend Ace kissed you.. He was the Fire Boy, but now he was also melting. The kiss lasted for a long second. Even after the kiss ended, he continued to hold onto you tightly as he didn't want you to leave him for a single second. “A-ace..” you spoke in a low tone, embarrassed that he kissed you in a public restaurant. Luckily there weren't many people to watch.

(Not like he would let them.) “Shhh..” he hushed you, you assumed it was better to just bask in the moment with him instead of speaking and ruining it.

So, the both of you sat there, you in Ace’s lap. Eventually, he even placed his hat on your head, patting it and going in for another kiss. This time the hat would cover you two. Let’s just leave it on the fact that you two definitely enjoyed this childhood reunion, and that Ace.. 2nd division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates wouldn’t be coming home without you tonight..

~~~

The End!

Consider following..?

Thank you so so much for reading!

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misc-obeyme · 1 year ago

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Hello omg can i request waiting + solomon? Thank you i love you and i love your works have a wonderful day ✨️

Hello there, anon!

Aww, thank you so much! I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing and I love you, too!

I can't pretend I didn't get into my feels with this one lol. What can I say, I love Solomon so much.

Thank you for the request!

GN!MC x Solomon with prompt Waiting

Warnings: juuuust a little hurt but it ends happy hee hee

Sometimes it felt like he was always waiting for you. Waiting for you to come home for the day, waiting for you to make pacts with the brothers again, waiting for you to see that he's always been there for you, waiting for you to touch him, to reach out, to trust him…

Solomon had to redirect his thoughts when they began to wander this way. He tried to occupy himself with a book of spells while he waited for you to come home to Cocytus Hall. He found he didn't really like being there without you. It was large and it was empty and it was cold. He needed your voice, your presence, your sweet laugh to fill it, to make him feel whole.

When had he ever become so dependent on you? He had spent so many years on his own. Solomon had a lot to focus on, plenty of magic to learn, research to perform, demons to make pacts with. He didn't allow himself the time to feel his own loneliness.

It was different now. How quickly you had invaded his heart, taking over and growing where there had been nothing but a hollow before.

Solomon sighed, setting down his book and leaving his room. He paced in the main entry hall, frustrated with himself for being unable to think of anything but you. Could he pretend that he was just worried about you? That you should have been home by now? But no, it was still early, you were normally at the House of Lamentation for a little while longer. He had no reason to go after you, no reason to see you now, other than the fact that he missed you.

He missed you as if he hadn't seen you just that morning.

As the time passed, he puttered around Cocytus Hall, doing little chores here and there, trying to do some research, picking up a different book every few minutes. He couldn't focus on anything, but he knew he just had to wait.

The moment you walked through the door, he felt a flood of relief rush through him. You looked as tired as you usually did when you got back and all he wanted to do was take care of you. He was so desperate to hold you, but he held back.

"Welcome home, MC," he said as you put down your things.

You turned to him and smiled. And suddenly he felt he was finally home. "Solomon," you said. "I missed you."

These words took him by surprise as you collapsed into him, throwing your arms around him and leaning your head on his shoulder.

The stab of feeling that ran through Solomon's heart was something he couldn't quite define. He put his arms around you, leaning his head against yours.

"I missed you, too, MC," he said. He said it quietly and you didn't seem to think it was a strange thing for him to say.

But Solomon had been waiting all of his long life for this feeling. He had been waiting all of those years for you.

the original prompt list

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me solomon x mc #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #om solomon #omnb #anon request #misc writes

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honeyhwaaa · 1 year ago

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counting raindrops

seonghwa x reader

genre: heavy angst, comfort/slight fluff

summary: it was never supposed to happen. you were sure god meant to take you, not hongjoong.

warnings: character death, car crash, mentions of blood, self-doubt, reader is depressed, mentions of reader dying

word count: 1.6k

note: thank you so much for all the love on my first two posts! happy reading!

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for as long as you've known seonghwa, it was always him and hongjoong. they were brothers, and you could have sworn hongjoong was seonghwa's soulmate - in every sense of the word.

you never minded hongjoong being around, you loved when he would come over late in the evening to entertain you and seonghwa about whatever work, school, or friend drama he had. he was like a kid of your own - despite him being older than you - and you wouldn't have had it any other way.

although seonghwa had always been protective of you when you were around his other members, he never worried about hongjoong, and often asked him to watch over you in times of his absence. you had grown highly fond of the short man, just as seonghwa had many years ago. even though you had seonghwa's heart, hongjoong was just as present in it as you were.

it was a stormy night when hongjoong had texted you asking for a ride home. seonghwa was fast asleep, his phone on silent not alerting you of hongjoong's consistent calls and text messages. you briefly woke seonghwa to let him know that his best friend was stuck at the studio, and you were to pick him up. gently kissing seonghwa's head and whispering an "i love you," you grabbed a spare coat and your keys, and you were out the door.

arriving at the studio almost thirty minutes after, hongjoong runs out of the building with his jacket over his head, already soaking and desperate to seek the warmth of your car.

"thank you so much y/n, hwa wasn't answering his phone and i was praying you were awake," he says while quickly hopping in the passenger seat.

"of course joong, i'm always happy to help," you say, giving him a smile before turning the heater up, and slowly driving off to hongjoong's apartment.

the rain had gotten so bad the roads were starting to flood. you could hardly see the road in front of you, driving very cautiously and turning your hazards on.

"you might be home later than you wanted to be hong," you say, keeping your eyes on the road, acknowledging his little hum he lets out. "that's okay," he says, "as long as we both get back safe it'll be alright."

you should have had a feeling something bad was going to happen, hell maybe you shouldn't have been driving at all. before getting a chance to respond, you see are bright lights seemingly coming straight for your car. trying to veer to the right to get out of the way, your car seems stuck in the flooded streets. reaching over to brace hongjoong for the impact, everything went black.

waking up drenched in water and blood wasn't what you thought was going to happen. the car had flipped upon impact, your side almost completely smashed in. trying to break free of the restraints of the seatbelt, you look over to see hongjoong's seatbelt is almost broken. he's hanging, the seatbelt being the only thing keeping him in one place.

getting out of the seatbelt, you reach over to try and undo hongjoong's. with a firm tug it breaks, and hongjoong falls to the bottom of the flipped car. he's not moving, at all, and his body looks lifeless as he lays in the shattered glass and blood that's all over the car.

you push hongjoong's body out his window, barely being able to do it yourself due to the confined space of the car. after he's out, you follow suit. seeing flashes of blue and red coming toward you, you drag hongjoong to the end of the car, panicking as he still hasn't moved.

when ems arrive, you drop to your knees with a face void of emotion as the paramedics pronounce hongjoong dead.

at around 4 am, seonghwa is frantically awoken by his members banging on his and your apartment. pulling himself out of bed with his bones feeling as heavy as lead, he trudges to the front door.

"seonghwa hyung! open up!" is what seonghwa hears with banging following. sleepy but able to tell the voices are panicked, he opens the door to find all his members but hongjoong.

"hyung, we've been calling you for over an hour!" yunho says, his voice wavering slightly. all the members have their heads downcast, and seonghwa thinks maybe they've done something stupid.

"it's y/n and hongjoong, hwa," yeosang starts, "they're in the hospital."

arriving at the hospital with heavy hearts, seonghwa desperately asks the receptionist where you and hongjoong are.

"i'm only seeing an y/n l/n, no kim hongjoong, i'm sorry sir. but she's on the third floor," the receptionist says, and the members panic hearing their captain isn't here.

rushing to the third floor, everyone begins looking for your room. upon finding it, seonghwa bursts in, the members behind him. you're laying in the hospital bed, many wires and machines hooked up to you along with the cast that you sport on your left arm.

"oh baby," seonghwa whispers, walking up to your sleeping form, "she's alright," a voice interrupts. a doctor walks in, holding a clipboard and a nurse behind him.

"she had some internal bleeding, but we performed a short surgery not too long ago to fix that. she's broken her arm, but overall she's okay," the doctor says.

"where's hongjoong?" san injects, "she was with another person in the crash, but i'm afraid the other passenger didn't make it," the doctor says, before walking out. the nurse checks a few of the machines you're hooked up to, before walking out with her head low.

two months had passed since hongjoong's pure soul was taken off the planet. two months had passed and you had hardly spoken a word to anyone, seonghwa included. hongjoong's passing affected everyone, but you're almost certain it affected you more than seonghwa.

although he was heartbroken that his other half had passed on, seonghwa's never ending positive attitude seemed to help the other members grieve with ease. there wasn't a day that went by since the accident that you hadn't seen seonghwa with a smile on his face. he wanted to remember his best friend in the happiest way possible.

you on the other hand, were struggling greatly. you were the one driving when the truck had hit you, and you felt as if god had taken the wrong person. the truck impacted your side directly, so how was it that hongjoong had taken the punishment?

disregarding your cold attitude, seonghwa had been with you every day since that dreadful night. he tried his absolute best to get you to understand that it wasn't your fault, that it was just an accident. his words went in one ear and out the other though, and you quickly fell severely depressed, shutting yourself out from everyone, even your beloved boyfriend.

the only thing you found comfort in was the rain, as ironic as it is. the rain had reminded you of hongjoong - not of the accident - but hongjoong and his spirit which you were sure was with you sometimes.

seonghwa walks into the living room, seeing you sitting near the window, admiring the rain. carefully walking up to you, he squats down in front of you.

"my love, i think it's time we talk about this," he says softly, moving to rest his hands on your legs. looking down at him, you're silent for a moment. "there's nothing to talk about seonghwa, hongjoong's gone. i know it was my fault, and i'd rather we didn't speak about it," you say rather defensively, unaware of seonghwa's watering eyes.

"it wasn't your fault sweetheart. i can see how much this has been affecting you, and i really think we need to talk about it," he pushes, gently trying to persuade you.

without saying a word, you ponder for a moment. hongjoong's death has been the only event thus far in your life that has pushed you to shutdown as aggressively as you had. maybe it would relieve some of the pent up stress and aggravation you had toward yourself if you finally discussed it.

seonghwa led you to the couch, sitting on the opposite side, but facing you. he lets out a long sigh, containing his tears and composing himself before speaking.

"baby, there was nothing you could do to stop the accident. you know that. it was nothing more than just a stupid and unlucky accident, and whether or not you believe me, his death is not your fault," he says.

"it should have been me, hwa. not joong. he had a whole life ahead of him, and it was ripped from him," you finally sob, bringing your knees to your chest, feeling hopeless.

"i never want to hear you say anything like that again y/n, do you hear me?" he voices, quickly moving to console you in his arms. "neither one of you should have been put in harms way. i know it isn't fair that he isn't here, but love you can't blame yourself anymore, please," he says as his tears fall, and you wipe them away before looking at him.

"how do you not hate me, hwa?" you ask, genuinely questioning him since all you've done is hate yourself the last two months. "sweetheart, i could never hate you, especially not over something that you had no control over," he follows, while bringing you closer in his arms.

"i love you so much hwa, and i'm so so sorry," you say, leaning to burry your head in the crook of his neck. "i love you too honey, you don't need to apologize, i just need you to forgive yourself, okay? that's all i need you to do," he says while rubbing your back.

"okay hwa, i can do that, i promise," you counter, while leaning up to kiss him, both of you letting your tears of sadness and of understanding fall freely from your eyes.

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i'm not really sure where i was going with one lmao, but i like how it turned out. pulled on my heartstrings so much though! thank you all for reading ! <3

#kpop #ateez #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez comfort #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong #ateez fic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios

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