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furiousgoldfish · 4 years

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Trauma symptoms caused by childhood abuse

Early symptoms (childhood and teenage years):

Inability to show pain and vulnerability to others

deep belief that you ‘have to be tough’, secretly fearing that you’re weak and pathetic if you ever shed any tears or break down in pain

personality changes from outgoing and social, to isolated and quiet, trying not to be noticed

feeling like there’s something deeply wrong with you, deep belief that you’re some kind of monster who deserves to be punished

fear that if someone finds out about whats happening to you, they will blame you and hurt you worse

anxiety around adults, always being scared you’ll annoy someone and be hurt for it

very low attention to your needs and wants, feeling pride in neglecting your own well being, even neglecting your pain

belief that your value is tied to how much pain and mistreatment you can endure

urge to self harm, or outright hurting yourself

feeling like you want to disappear, or not be born at all, contemplating suicide

self hatred, feeling extremely negative about yourself and feeling like things would be better if you didn’t exist

spending phases of time being emotionless, feeling like a zombie and not caring about anything

foreshortened sense of future (belief that you wont live for much longer, inability to see your future or plan for it)

not feeling the consequences of events in the real time, or not at all; for instance, being completely unphased by a violent outburst or screaming, not feeling pain when you’re hurt, or not feeling the exhaustion when you’re clearly overworked

strong urge to not think about certain topics or events, or inability to do so

fear that your body is wrong and disgusting, anxiety about anyone seeing it but desperate need for validation that you’re normal

deep sense of shame in yourself, your actions and your appearance

strong investment in finding excuses for people who do bad things, always trying to see things from their angle and to forgive them

feeling like the blame for any bad thing in the world can be put on you

not feeling like a human being, belief that you’re less than human

feeling like your home is not here and you do not belong on this planet

feeling uncomfortable being touched and wanting people to back off

uncontrolled ourbursts of rage

looking for anything to soothe your pain or distract you, indulging with obsessions or drugs

early development of anxiety disorder, depression, insomnia, ocd

trying to regress your age and force yourself to stay younger than you are, because you feel like your value is dropping with age and nobody will care for you anymore

trying to desperately take control over some aspects of your life, which can result in overdoing or completely neglecting school, losing yourself in virtual life, eating disorders, self harm or magic thinking that enables you to believe you can control your circumstances

in case of a sexual trauma, innapropriate sexual behaviour, deep shame tied to your body, indulging in sexual interactions even before puberty, feeling like you’re meant to be used, violent or forceful sexual fantasies accompanied with shame, fear of touch, fear of anyone finding out, reaching out for pornographic material to put your experience into perspective

feeling desperate to appear normal and clinging very strongly to the perception that your childhood is normal

Later symtoms, can develop anytime after puberty, can be in 20s or 30s or even 50s:

Emotional

Flashbacks, nightmares, panic attacks, freezing up in terror, beyond average amounts of fear and dread

Trust issues, either trusting without suspicion even when you shouldn’t or trusting nobody and feeling completely alone in the world

Episodes of re-living traumatic events from childhood or later in life; emotional meltdowns

Being unable to leave the past and feeling frozen in the moments of trauma

Emotional flashbacks, feeling the events from past as if they’re happening now, except this time you feel it thousand times stronger and completely fall apart from the horror of it

Feeling unstable, ashamed for not being able to control your emotions, fear of being judged, mocked or humiliated for it, trying desperately to not feel it, using distractions or drugs

Self doubt, struggling to know what is real and what isn’t, doubting your memories and emotions, trying to only feel what you believe is obliged from you

Questioning the past over and over again, trying to find sense and who to blame

Trying desperately to put your relationship with your abuser(s) into perspective, feeling both guilt and obligation towards them, but also rage and desire to take over control from them

Self harm, self-destructive behaviour, suicidal behaviour, wanting to die to end the pain

Deep and overwhelming grief over loss of childhood and loss of trust in people you believed wouldn’t hurt you, or believed they were doing it for your good, which now proved not to be true

Depression, loss of joy in anything you used to like doing, loss of optimism in life

Losing the courage to try anything, regardless of how much it would benefit you, if there’s even a slight chance of getting hurt in a way you find impossible to endure, living passively

Feeling irreparably damaged and ruined

Getting lost in maladaptive daydreaming, fiction, or the virtual world, feeling unable to face reality, falling to obsessions or addictions to endure the pain

Feeling other people’s feelings as if they’re your own, especially feelings of pain, anxiety, fear, nervousness, anger or grief; trying to soothe them and especially having strong reactions to anger

Feeling overwhelmed whenever around people, feeling the urge to self-isolate and to be completely alone

Being hit with extreme amounts of rage and struggling to process it; worrying about misdirecting the rage or acting on it, violent fantasies

Getting stuck in a mindset of a child and barely able, or unable to do any grown-up tasks

Struggling to achieve even minimum function, or not functioning at all

Losing the will or the energy to participate in any activities you used to enjoy

Fighting or indulging the urge to normalize what happened or make it ‘not that bad’, trying to re-live it in a way that wouldn’t be traumatic, especally with sexual trauma, needing to perceive it as if it would be normal only if it was ‘consensual’ or more controlled and trying to find a way to frame it as ‘not that big of a deal’ and denying it’s hurting you

Beating yourself up horribly for still being upset and traumatized by events that happened long ago

Inability to have friends or form connections with others, high alert for betrayal and manipulation

Avoding places and people connected to the trauma, getting easily triggered and forced to re-live something that needs recovery time of days or weeks

Losing your sense of reality; not being sure where you are or what year is it for some periods of time, feeling like you’re going crazy

Only being able to focus on surviving a short amount of time (just trying to get thru the day or week)

Physical

Extreme anxety; trembling, spending prolonged amount of time tense and expecting danger and pain at every second, inability to calm down, limbs not working properly, fainting out of fear

Continually activated “fight or flight” response, always feeling endangered, trouble digesting food because your body shuts down your digestion in order for you to be able to escape faster, vomiting, stomach pains after eating

Hyperventilation, problems with breathing, feeling there’s “no air” in small or crowded spaces

Chronic exhaustion, feeling heavy weight over your body, having difficulty moving at all

Chronic pain, tension in your body never leaving, physical pain appearing when you’re experiencing emotional pain, chest pain, heart palpitations

Problems with blood pressure, fainting easily

Dissociation (feeling detached from your emotions and/or body, feeling numb and unreal, your body not feeling yours, feeling outside your body or like you’re stuck in someone else’s body)

Memory issues, not being able to remember whole parts of your life, weak short term memory, not being able to look back on your life in linear way or put the events in they order they happened in, mixing several events into one, remembering feelings but not events

Increased sensitivity to noise, getting very upset at any non recognizable sound, reacting with irritability or rage to background noises, or with terror at loud noises; needing complete silence, or constant soothing background noise

Extreme sensitivity to stress, having to block out stressful things from memory, having physical reactions to stress, like shaking, your hair falling out, feeling incapable of dealing with even minimally stressful tasks

Dry mouth in the night, overheating during the nightmares, getting so distressed after sleep you can’t move from the bed for hours, not calming down for days

Not being able to control your body, falling down and shaking uncontrollably, even trashing around as your body processes violence done to it

Not being able to relax or calm down without experiencing physical pain, feeling addicted to abuse and indulging in self harm, or letting someone else hurt you so that you might gain a moment of not feeling tense, stressed and scared

Feeling sensations of pain or discomfort on your body even when nothing is happening to it, especially the body parts that have been violated in some way; in case of sexual trauma it would mean private parts, in case of overworking yourself or break yourself with effort, pain in all muscles and joints

In case of sexual trauma, reoccurring memories of it, trouble figuring out your sexuality, wanting to escape your body or perceiving it in a distorted way, urge to repeat the trauma to get desensitized to it, hypersexual behaviour or complete lack of interest in sexuality

Weight gain or loss, hatred of your body and desire to change or hurt it, or complete neglect over body, lack of any self care of even acknowledging you need it

Difficulty sleeping or being awake, feeling too high alert to fall asleep or dropping out of consciousness from overexhaustion

Inability to focus or finish tasks, procrastinating or feeling sick just knowing there is a task you have to do.

If you struggle(d) with 5 or more of early ones, or 5 or more of later ones, you’ve been dealing with trauma.

#trauma #child abuse #cptsd #emotional flashbacks #complex ptsd #abuse #abusive childhood #traumatic childhood #checklist #trauma symptoms #long term abuse

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Distance

Characters: Childe, Kaeya, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,280

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: What other explanation could there be? Surely this is the one logical answer. Even if it hurts, even if it doesn’t make sense.

In which the reader’s s/o assumes the reader is no longer interested.

Author’s Note: This prompt is really fun to write so far but I feel terrible torturing the poor characters like this. Oops.

Childe

The warm wind tickled Childe’s hair, causing the Harbinger to bat a few orange strands out of his face, eyes still pinned on the harbor that was fast approaching. The balmy breeze of Liyue was refreshing – a reminder of all the things he had been missing on his long-drawn-out trip. Now Childe leaned against the railing of the ship, eager to touch land, unable to contain the excitement he felt at the knowledge of what was awaiting him upon the dock.

Though he didn’t like to admit it this trip had been a particularly harrowing one, not just for Childe but for you as well. The post was notoriously touch-and-go across the Seven nations, especially with the deep snows whirling into Snezhnaya this time of year. The fact that he was gone almost a month certainly didn’t help. If he had to admit it Childe had found himself worrying about the time more than usual, worried how it might affect you. Now he was eager to push all those thoughts away, to once more find himself next to you, all well with the world. As the crew bustled around him to prepare the junk for docking the Harbinger took a deep breath in. There was nothing to worry about. Soon all would be well.

The empty dock was a jarring sight. Though saying it was devoid of people wouldn’t technically be accurate, business was going on as usual after all, to Childe it might as well have been a ghost town. Stumbling slightly, suddenly unsure of where to go, Childe climbed up the ramp awkwardly. Finding no one waiting for him on the stone pier as well, anxiety began to coil in Childe’s stomach. Had something happened? Ignoring the thoughts that flurried through his mind he quickly wove his way through the streets of Liyue. Though the city was bustling as always, laughter and shouting echoing through the air as people haggled and joked and went about their business, Childe found himself disconnected from his surroundings. His only thought was to find you, hopefully safe and sound and happy to see him.

There was no sign of anything wrong as Childe approached the door to your shared apartment. Sighing softly he dug around in his pack for the keys. You’d probably just fallen asleep, having recently taken up the habit of afternoon naps, according to your letters. Childe couldn’t really complain if that were the case, after all rest was important and you could hardly be blamed for not being aware of the time while conked out. Yes, surely you were asleep. Then Childe could give you the surprise of waking next to him. A smirk graced Childe’s lips at the thought of it, and as he turned the key in the lock he reassured himself. There was nothing to be worried about.

Unfortunately the Harbinger’s genius hypothesis had proven to be a false one. A quick scouring of the apartment revealed that you were not there, and no signs of any abnormal activity could be found as an explanation. Anxiety seeping into Childe’s mind he barely set down his pack before bolting out of the door, trying somewhat unconvincingly to keep his pace to a fast walk. Had something happened to you? Surely not! Childe knew you, knew that you could very well take care of yourself. He shouldn’t worry.

Still the thought passed through his head, combined with an even more unpleasant one. Had you simply forgotten about him? What if you didn’t care? Shaking his head the Harbinger took in a deep breath. He was overthinking things, still stuck in the mindset of a Harbinger. Not everything in life was a battle, hadn’t you told him that many times, teasing his constant need to see an obstacle to beat somewhere? He really should take your advice more seriously, at least in this case. Slowly down slightly Childe walked to the city center. He was sure his answer would be here; and that it would be so mundane as to not bother a second thought.

His pulse jumped in his throat as you finally entered his field of vision. You were sitting around with a few people, coworkers if the Guild crest and weaponry didn’t serve him wrong, chatting and smiling and overall having a wonderful time. Emotions stirred through Childe, the urge to run up to you, to stalk away, to find the nearest fountain and jump into it; but he stayed put, staring at your laughing face, pain flashing in his chest. He supposed he should’ve felt angry, felt like he’d been stood up. Instead all he felt was sadness, sadness and guilt.

Finally turning around Childe plodded back down the street, steps slow and sluggish. What did he expect really, for you to wait around for him forever? How was that fair? There was no reason you shouldn’t grow sick of waiting, shouldn’t want more out of your life. You were perfectly within your rights to want such a thing. Yet the pain continued, spreading throughout his chest until Childe felt like his lungs were on fire and his throat was crumpled in a fist of his own making.

Arriving back at the apartment a supernatural urge seemed to seize the Harbinger. Pack, he needed to pack. He wouldn’t burden you anymore, wouldn’t continue to strain your emotions by hanging around like a phantom. Luckily Childe wasn’t the kind of person to own a lot of things. Not that you really were either, between the both of you purchases mainly went into gifts for each other rather than personal buys. Childe now stood looking down at some of the things you’d bought or made for him. Scarves, books, a stuffed animal that had reminded you of his Delusion; all of these things lay peacefully on the shelf, giving the books behind them a slightly trapped looked. It was so homey and so comforting that Childe found tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

Wiping his eyes roughly the Harbinger collapsed onto the couch. What was he doing? Part of him wondered if he shouldn’t just wait for you to come home, wait and see where you two really were. But it seemed unfair to do that. After all, what kind of sleazy person left their partner for a month then begged for their love and attention right after coming home? It was completely within your rights to want more, hadn’t Childe already made that clear to himself? And yet it hurt, it hurt so much. How had he managed to mess this all up, to let the thing most precious to him fall out of his hands? He had been so careless.

Giving himself up to his emotions Childe let the pooling tears stream down his cheeks. Suddenly everything seemed so very heavy. Closing his eyes for a moment Childe sighed. Five minutes, he would give himself five minutes before returning to his packing. Yet the familiar comfort of the couch beckoned to him, and soon fatigue overwhelmed him, dragging him down into the realm of sleep. Thankfully, he dreamt of nothing.

“Childe what are you doing?!”

Lurching up Childe glanced around wildly, hands automatically moving to summon his weapon. For a few seconds he found himself utterly confused, unable to comprehend where he was or what was going on. Soon enough however, the situation came crashing back to him and the Harbinger lowered his weapon. Glancing up at you he braced himself for whatever was going to happen next.

Well you certainly seemed upset, though not exactly in the way Childe might have expected. Instead of anger there seemed something more akin to panic in your eyes, and the red patches on your face certainly pointed to distress more than anything else.

“Is something wrong?”

“Is something wrong, you tell me that!” You took in a few erratic breaths, but your tone remained panicky. “Why are you packing? Do you have another trip? Why are you leaving?”

“I, I thought that it would be easier if I just left.” Childe lowered his head, unable to look you in the eyes. “I figured that I would spare you the pain of having to kick me out yourself.”

“Why in Teyvat would I kick you out?” You sat down on the couch next to Childe, and he could feel your eyes piercing through him. “What’s going on?”

“I didn’t see you at the docks when I returned.” Childe paused, gathering his thoughts. “At first I thought that you’d just fallen asleep or something but you weren’t home. And when I saw you out with your friends, well it made me realize how distant I’ve really been; physically, emotionally, everything. I realized that, and I realized that you deserved better, that I hadn’t been doing enough. I realized that you deserve more, deserve a partner who will always be there for you, who you won’t always have to be waiting for.”

“Oh Ajax.” You whispered softly.

Raising his head Childe could see no relief in your expression. Instead sadness was plainly plastered upon your face. Reaching out your hands you let Childe slump against you, carding your fingers through his hair as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry my darling, I thought you were coming back tomorrow. That’s why I was out. I would never think such a thing as abandoning you,” you spoke softly, tone achingly soft, “I mean it. Our relationship isn’t conventional, that’s true; but I would never trade it for anything. I would never think that you weren’t giving enough, I know how hard you work and how much you put into everything you know. Believe me Ajax, I don’t begrudge you any distance, I’ve never lacked love from you.”

“But what if one day you want something more,” Childe couldn’t help but ask, “what if one day letters aren’t enough? What if one day, what if one day I’m not enough?”

“I promise that will never happen,” you let out a soft sigh, “really Ajax you hold yourself too cheaply. You shouldn’t underestimate yourself, or underestimate me for that matter. You will always be enough for me. There will never be a day I want anything or anyone different, and if need be I will remind you of that every. single. day.”

Punctuation the last three words with kisses to Childe’s head you smiled as he titled his face up to gaze into yours. Though the panic had evaporated from you there was still sadness, and for a moment Childe felt guilt wash over him, guilt that he had caused you so many trials and that he hadn’t even had the courage to face you about it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Although I do appreciate you understanding that almost stealing out into the night nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Not my brightest moment.” Childe admitted.

“Perhaps not,” you laughed, “I mean really, you’d think that it was the second act of a tragedy or something, and not one I’d like to participate in.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize! Just don’t do it again, or next time I’ll get genuinely angry, and then you won’t get off the hook so easily.”

Childe pressed his lips to yours, another unspoken apology. Though you let out a small huff of impatience you nevertheless leaned into the kiss, smiling against his lips as you let your hands drift from his hair to his shoulders.

That night Childe lay awake, listening to the soft cadence of your breath, indulging in the feeling of peace that lay over him. Though he knew that his worries and insecurities would never truly leave him, Childe nonetheless felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Maybe one days his fears would come true, maybe one day this life wouldn’t be enough. But “ifs” and “maybes” weren’t guarantees, and until that day happened Childe would cherish the time he spent with you.

Besides, Childe trusted no one as much as he trusted you. If you said that such a day would never come to pass, then surely you were right.

Kaeya

You were working late again.

Kaeya supposed that it shouldn’t have bothered him, but then again he also supposed that almost anyone would feel somewhat uneasy if their colleague and partner was suddenly avoiding them like the plague.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but not much in Kaeya’s mind. Of course, if this were some sort of habit then he would hardly mind; but after months of making it a tradition to always walk home together, well, safe to say the whole thing didn’t sit well. Nor was it simply a matter of you staying to work late, even the days where you finished earlier than him it seemed that you were always dashing off somewhere, leaving him painfully out of the loop.

Now Kaeya stood across the room from you, fingers drumming on his arm, face carefully hiding the irritation and concern that rose up inside him, threatening to spill over.

“I’m really sorry Kaeya!” Your tone was sincere, and the apology in your eyes seemed genuine enough. “It’s just that Jean asked me to look over the ledgers for the infantry. You know the captain is out this week, but Jean didn’t want to have to owe the City and the soldiers in terms of late funds. I promise it won’t take that long, I’ll be done as fast as I can.”

“Why don’t I help you with it?” Kaeya could feel the sarcasm sweetening his tone, attempted to rein it in he stared at you silently.

“You’ve been working so hard, I wouldn’t want to bother you with extra work.”

“It wouldn’t be a bother at all. Anything for my dear partner.”

“Really, it’s fine!” You twisted your hands, a nervous habit that Kaeya had long ago picked up on. “I’ll be done in time for dinner. And then we can the new recipe you’ve been telling me about; okay?”

“Very well.”

“Thanks for understanding!”

Though you seemed happy enough by the proposition Kaeya noticed how fast your head moved to the papers on your desk. Closing the door behind him he heard you let out a loud sigh. Clenching his hands, as if to remind himself that he was still in a semi-public setting, Kaeya stalked out of the Knight’s Headquarters. The thoughts in his head felt like static, and he worried that if he remained still for one more moment it would swallow him up.

Walking the streets of Mondstadt, Kaeya tried to reflect back upon the past few weeks. Had he done something wrong? Wracking his brain for any serious disputes Kaeya came up frustratingly emptyhanded. If you had fought over something this whole debacle would be one thing. Kaeya had a temper of his own, and petty acts of anger was something he admittedly struggled with often enough. He could hardly fault you if you acted in a similar way, or at least not without admitting to his own faults.

And yet nothing had happened, nothing that might cause such a dispute. Clenching his hands one more, aware that his knuckles must’ve been bone white, Kaeya let his thoughts drift to darker waters. What if you were just sick of him? It was certainly plausible, or at least Kaeya thought so. It would certainly explain why you now seemed to be avoiding him like the plague outside of work.

The thought hurt, as it might well do, but surprisingly most of the pain didn’t come from the idea itself, but from the idea that you wouldn’t tell him such a thing. You falling out of love with Kaeya would be been incredibly painful. You not trusting him enough to the point you were simply avoiding him, well the thought was enough to knock the wind out of him. Did you really think so ill of him? The idea filled Kaeya with smoldering rage and indignation – fueled in no little part by the fact that Kaeya ultimately might agree with you. Usually thoughts like those were the kinds you hated, the kinds you chased away with a stick, assuring Kaeya that no matter his past decisions he was still worthwhile. But you weren’t here now, and those dark thoughts were now kindling for the fire that burned in Kaeya’s mind.

By the time he’d reached the apartment Kaeya was almost sure of his hypothesis. Though a small part of his brain reminded him that he was working of a diet of sleep deprivation and anger, such logical thinking was easy enough to shrug off. After all, the signs were there. You were evidently getting quite sick of him, it was hardly Kaeya’s fault that he caught on.

Throwing his equipment on the floor, not bothering to even put his sword up on its stand, the Cavalry Captain walked towards the kitchen. What he needed was drink, maybe even two. Really if it were up to him he’d spend the next hour or so getting as drunk as possible before passing out in the tub. Thankfully though his reason hadn’t completely left him, and Kaeya managed to limit himself to two and a half glasses of cider. He needed to be at least on the side of sober for the conversation that was bound to pass once you came home after all.

The lateness of the hour in which you arrived felt like a personal insult, though really it was only 21:00 or so.

“Kaeya?” You called out, whipping the Cavalry Captain out of his thoughts.

Stepping into the kitchen the grin on your face was a stark contrast to the emotions that swirled in Kaeya’s mind. Hands clasped behind your back you stood in the doorframe as if expecting something. You’d probably be in for a nasty surprise. Kaeya smiled sweetly at you, words burning in his mouth, mixing with the alcohol. This was a bad idea.

“How was the paperwork?”

“The paperwork? Oh! It was boring enough I suppose. I kept getting distracted though, I really should’ve had you there, you could’ve kept me from nodding off.”

“I’m sure I would have. Tell me something my dear, I have a question that’s been burning in my mind.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me why it is that out lovely Acting Grandmaster asked you to go over the ledgers when I was assigned to that exact thing yesterday?”

Ignoring the blotches of red that immediately spread across your cheeks Kaeya stood up. Carefully going to clean the glass he’d been using he stared into the sink, not trusting himself to look at you. If he did all the words he wanted to say would fly out at once, and something that probably shouldn’t be said with them.

“Did she ask you that? How odd! She must’ve wanted a second pair of eyes or something, I guess.”

“Are my eyes not good enough?”

“Kaeya, you know I wasn’t insulting your work.” A sort of shocked irritation ran through your voice. “You’re the best knight in Mondstadt after all.”

“Oh really? Well if you think so highly of me then why have you been avoiding me so much?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Then let me ask a different question; when was the last time we walked home together?”

“I don’t know, a week and a half ago?”

“Try two and a half.” Kaeya finally turned around, drumming his fingers on the counter. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you!” Indignation shot through your words as you shook your head. “I’m just busy recently.”

“Busy with made up work.”

“It’s not made up!”

“Oh really, then tell me what was your work last night?”

“I had to oil the bow strings for my regiment.”

“They couldn’t do it themselves according to protocol?”

“Not the new recruits they couldn’t!”

“Then what about the day before?”

“Kaeya!” You finally burst out. “I don’t know why you’re so quick to find fault with me right now! Just tell me what you’re getting at, if you’re going to insult me you might as well do it head on.”

A part of him admired you for wanting to look at the problem right in the face, another part of him thought of how well you knew him, how attuned you were to his moods. Just as he had figured out that you were avoiding him, so could you tell that his jabs were a misdirection. It was almost funny really, seeing the things you both had picked up about one another now used at the end.

“Fine.” Kaeya crossed his arms, hoping his expression was at least somewhat neutral. “It seems obvious to me that you’ve been avoiding me, and that you no longer want my company. What I am getting at is the fact that you want to break up, and that you evidently trust me so little with that fact that the only solution you’ve come up with is to avoid me.”

Your face went slack with shock, pupils turning to pinpricks as you stumbled backwards. Finally letting your arms fall to your sides you grabbed the side of the doorframe, as if unable to process what he just come out of your partner’s mouth.

“What?”

“Do you really trust me so little?” Kaeya pressed on, feeling his emotions begin to spill over. “Am I really so untrustworthy that you can’t even tell me you want to end things? Am I, am I really that untrustworthy?”

Everything seemed to be going all wrong. Kaeya had expected you to immediately fess up, had expected guilt and relief and then the end. Instead all he got was incredulous silence, incredulous silence and a look that screamed utter and total disbelief.

“Do you really think that I would do that to you?”

The question was a simple enough one, one that anyone might ask during a conversation of this nature. Still your tone was so dispassionate that Kaeya couldn’t help but pause. Did he really think that you would do such a thing? His anger certainly thought so, helped a great deal by his current buzzed state. All that aside however, did he really think that? When he woke up tomorrow, would these thoughts still be swirling through his head, these angry thoughts that threatened to burn through his happiness.

“I don’t know.” It was the best answer he could give.

“Then why would you accuse me of something you weren’t even sure of?”

“I…”

“Kaeya have you really thought so little about what you just told me?”

He almost wanted to apologize for how stupid his words seemed in retrospect.

“Would it help you if I told you where I actually was?”

Your voice was still quiet, but not entirely closed. Nodding stiffly Kaeya felt his fingers still.

“Very well. You were right about one thing, I wasn’t actually checking the ledgers for Jean; and I wasn’t oiling bowstrings all day either, I mean our troops should know how to do that at least. But you made one mistake in your judgement Kaeya, the idea that I was avoiding you. In truth I was gathering materials, I wanted to make a new sword for you. Your current one is so brittle and since I know you don’t want to use the sword you were given as an heirloom, well I thought that I wouldn’t wait for your current one to break and that your new one would be a present.”

“…I see.”

It was all Kaeya could get out; how else could he reply? Shame and guilt mingled within his mind, quickly dousing any anger that he might’ve felt. He really fucked up this one didn’t he. He let his emotions slip once more and now he had made a fool of himself. More than that he had refused to trust you, had ended up doing the exact thing he had just accused you of. Now what was there to do? He couldn’t exactly slink away with his dignity; even if he had managed to retain that, there weren’t many places to go.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

Kaeya jerked his head up from the spot he’d been examining on the floor, confused by the sudden turn of the conversation. You stared into his eyes, shrugging slightly.

“I said I’m sorry. I’m sorry Kaeya, I should’ve come up with a better method. I didn’t mean to make you worried, or to make you feel like I wanted to no longer associate with you. Believe me that’s the last thing I want to do. So I’m sorry that I made you feel that way.”

“I was the one who accused you of all those things that weren’t true.”

“You did. I’m not very happy about that to be honest; you’re going to be doing some serious penance for the next week. I just figured that before that I would apologize. Then we could be even. Okay?”

Reaching out your hand Kaeya finally noticed what you’d been hiding. The windwheel aster was slightly limp, the breeze that gave it its beauty nowhere to be found. Nevertheless it seemed at the moment the most beautiful flower in the world. Walking over to you Kaeya tentatively took the flower in his hand. Smiling softly he leaned down to kiss you.

“I’m sorry.”

Tomorrow he’d start making it up to you. Tomorrow he wouldn’t listen to his demons, wouldn’t let his own lack of self-worth hurt you. Tomorrow he would do better by you and more. Today he would say sorry.

After all, he had plenty of time.

#genshin impact fanfiction #childe x reader #kaeya x reader #childe #kaeya #genshin impact #requested #scenarios #my writing #sorry forgot to strike ningguang and zhongli from fhe character list they’re coming tomorrow(/today)

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shysneeze · 3 years

Text

Do Me a Favour | Fred Weasley x F!Reader

Description: Fred and the reader’s relationship seen through a series of favours

Warnings: its kind of angsty, brief description of injury (umbridge’s detention related) briefly battle of hogwarts related, miscommunication i guess

Tag-List : new form is here for anyone interested in being added

~* Fifth Year *~

“Do me a favour?”

It’s a question (Y/N) has been practicing internally for at least an hour, yet her voice still wobbles as she asks it aloud. Fred, lying back in the grass, soaking in the late summer sun, peeks open one eye to look up at her with a questioning brow.

“Yeah?”

“K-kiss me?”

A second passes before he reacts, sitting bolt upright in an instant, choking slightly on the gasped breath taken in the process. Regret floods her chest with a mortified ache and she finds herself dropping her eyes to the ground and picking at tufts of grass nervously.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter,” She mumbles, “It’s stupid.”

“Kiss you?” He repeats, “L-like on the lips?”

“I shouldn’t have asked,” She argues embarrassedly, “I was just- I haven’t- it doesn’t matter.”

He blinks at her, confusion pulling his brows into a frown. Confused is probably the only word he can come up with to explain the whole thing, because quite frankly, it’s not everyday your childhood best friend asks you to kiss them. Then, much to (Y/N)’s further mortification, realisation flickers across his face.

“You’ve never kissed anyone?”

He asks it like he’s surprised, something that only goes to confuse (Y/N) herself. Yet she nods, too obviously embarrassed to even attempt to play it off as some elaborate joke or simply fib her way out of it.

“Really?” Fred asks, “And you want me to be your first kiss?”

“I just want it out the way,” She explains hastily, “Don’t go getting big headed about it… it’s just a favour.”

He’s silent, the most silent she’s ever heard him before even, and it does nothing but add to her growing concern that in one fell swoop, she’s managed to ruin sixteen years of friendship. She’s on the verge of what is bound to be an incoherent string of apologies when he finally answers.

“Okay.”

Her breath catches with something between relief and sheer panic.

“Really?”

“What sort of friend would I be if I denied you such a simple favour?”

‘Simple’ is perhaps an underestimation of what she’s asking, and she can see the nervous way he licks his lips despite the grin he throws on instantly to disguise it. She’s gotten this far though, too far to chicken out now with his warm hand cupping one of her cheeks as he leans closer.

The sun has brought out millions of freckles across his pale cheeks, and for the first time she’s so close she could count them. Part of her, a side of her she’s never met before, thinks about tracing her finger across them, connecting them like constellations. Something in her chest twitches at the thought.

“You ready?”

“Don’t make it sound so clinical,” She mumbles.

“Listen, beggars can’t be choosers.”

She smiles, glad for the familiarity of his teasing. It has some of her nerves dissipating, her lungs expanding with a light, freeing breath before she nods.

He’s tentative for only a moment, their lips meeting in the lightest of kisses until she’s instinctively pulling him closer, fingers curled around a handful of his gryffindor tie. He lets out a surprised sound from deep in his throat, though he doesn’t pull back.

In fact, if he knew kissing his best friend might feel this good, he wouldn’t have asked so many questions before doing so in the first place. At the feeling of her grip slipping from his tie, he feels his heart dropping disappointedly, chasing her lips subconsciously as she pulls back.

He watches her contemplative expression, a good distraction from the racing of his heart in his chest and the unexplainable urge to kiss her again. She gives him a wide-eyed look, eyes darting in every direction as she navigates whatever millions of questions are running around her head.

Then, she clears her throat, nodding as she begins to get to her feet and leaving him dazed on the grass with reddening cheeks.

“Thanks,” She says, “I owe you one.”

~ *Sixth Year* ~

“(Y/N),” Fred exclaims happily, portrait door swinging shut behind him as (Y/N) looks up from her book to meet him with a frown, “Just who I was looking for,”

“That’s never good,” She says, slowly closing her book, “When am I busting you out of detention this time?”

“You wound me,” He retorts before dropping onto the couch beside her with, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead with a dramatic flair, “Me? Detention?”

His head lands haphazardly on her lap and she looks down at him with an amused look, shaking her head in teasing disbelief. His lips twitch into a grin, one that (Y/N) knows is just the beginning of what she doubts will be a simple request.

“Do me a favour?”

For a split second, she freezes, a slight shiver crawling up her back at the question, which little under a year ago saw them kissing by the lake. He holds her eyes in a knowing gaze that causes her to nod cautiously.

“Okay…”

“Come to the ball with me?”

Her brows lift into a surprised expression.

“What?”

“The Yule Ball,” He explains, sitting up now to face her properly, “I need a date.”

She gives him a long, questioning, look, searching for some tell-tale signs of a Fred Weasley joke in the makings. Sceptically, she narrows her eyes.

“Why?”

“You owe me one.”

She bristles imperceptibly, gulping at the knowing look that swims in eyes and twitches the corners of his lips into a small smirk.

“That and I left it all a bit last minute, you see,”

She can’t quite decide whether it’s hurt or relief that tugs at her chest at the revelation, that he’s only asking as a last resort. It’s a much more simple version of the scenario she’s been building in her head since he first asked his question, one with far less feelings to get more attached to.

“What if I’ve already said yes to someone else?”

“Well, I have it on good authority that you’ve been turning people down for weeks now,” He raises a brow, “What’s that about? Holding onto hope of being asked by someone special?”

The teasing tone he’s going for comes out strained in a way (Y/N) has never heard from him before and she frowns for a second at it before rolling her eyes.

“No, I’m not,” She answers, “I just didn’t feel like going with them.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you don’t have a date?” He says, “And neither do I… how convenient.”

She lets out a short scoff, shaking her head in disbelief at the pleading puppy-dog look he’s managed to perfect in just a few seconds. She exhales a loud reluctant sigh that has the corners of his mouth pulling into a smile.

“Is that a yes?”

“Hmm,” She nods, “I guess,”

“How romantic.”

“Ah well, as a wise boy once said, beggars can’t be choosers.” She manages a smirk of her own, “Perhaps next time you’ll find yourself a date sooner than a week before the dance.”

Something in Fred’s face drops for only a split second, and not even their years of friendship helps her read it. It’s only a moment before he’s disguising it again with a lopsided grin and a playful shove.

“Shut up,”

~* Seventh Year *~

Fred’s finger tips are warm as they trace the red-raw words scratched into the back of (Y/N)’s hand, lookin from it up to her eyes with a look she knows means a lecture. She sniffles slightly, twisting away from him to plan her counter argument.

“Before you say anything,” She starts, “Your hand is just as bad so don’t start on my detentions.”

“I wasn’t going... “ He sighs, “Well, I was, but you’re right. I’m just trying to figure out how to get the pink hag back for it.”

“Don’t do anything stupid... I’m fine.”

Fred let’s put a disagreeing grumble.

“Fred,” She says warningly.

“I know,” He breathes out reluctantly, “I just worry when it’s you.”

She turns back to face him, hoping to catch whatever expression has followed such a revelation, but she’s too late, finding him instead twisting away from her to search through his bedside table drawer. He returns with a small jar of healing balm, what she’d come to his dorm for in the first place, or at least that’s what she’s telling herself.

“What happened this time?”

“I missed curfew again,” (Y/N) mumbles, hissing in a breath when the balm touches the open wound, “I was at the library trying to teach myself the bloody defence course since she won’t- ouch.”

“Done,” He assures with a soft smile, “Wuss.”

“It’s not that when you’re the injured one,” She teases, though she’s not feeling quite up to it, “I can’t believe this is how we’re spending our last year.”

“I know.”

She’s not sure what’s causing the tears that have welled in her eyes though, certainly not from the sting of the healing balm or even the general pain from the scar itself. Yet she can’t help the tears that have begun to fall from her lashes and slip down her cheeks.

“Hey-” Fred looks up, brown eyes wide in surprise, “What’s going on?”

“Sorry,” (Y/N) hiccups, wiping her eyes hastily, “I don’t know why i’m crying.”

“Take your time,” Fred says, rubbing soothingly at her back, “It’s okay,”

“It’s all just a bit much isn’t it.” She manages after a moment, “Newts are hard enough but now w-we’ve got this absolute psychopath of a defence teacher who doesn’t actually teach, we’re training to fight deatheaters and- it’s just a bit much.”

“I know what you mean,” He admits solemnly, “It’s pretty messed up.”

“Sorry, it’s stupid.” She shakes her head, “Everyones going through the same thing-”

“Don’t do that.” He frowns, “That doesn’t mean you don’t get to be upset about it, (Y/N).”

“I know but-”

She hears him click his tongue against his teeth disapprovingly, and she can picture him rolling his eyes though she doesn’t have time to see for herself, not with his arm around her shoulder as he curls her into his chest.

She freezes, as if this is something bizarre, as if they’ve not shared hugs a million times growing up. This is protective though, like in his arms, for even just a moment, he’s protecting her from everything wrong in the world.

“Fred?” She sniffles against his chest, “Do me a favour?”

“Anything, (Y/N).”

“Just- just hold me for a bit.”

His breath catches, heat blossoming in his chest as he pulls her closer, running his fingers through her hair in a soothing motion.

“Of course.”

~* Post-Hogwarts*~

“Do me a favour?”

(Y/N), seconds from falling asleep, fit perfectly between Fred and the back of the sofa, peers up at him with bleary eyes and soft smile.

“Of course.” She exhales tiredly.

“Be with me.”

She freezes, replaying it over and over in her head, not entirely sure she’s not dreaming. At her silence, he lets out a sharp noise that sends a jolt of panic into her body, waking her up well and truly. She lets out a choked sound as his arms unravel from her waist and a chill hits her as he begins to pull back.

“What?”

“It’s late-” He begins to backtrack.”I’ve got to open up shop tomorro-”

“What did you just say, Fred?”

He gives her a look that's almost pained.

“Don’t make me say it again.” He pleads, “Let’s just forget about it-”

“You… You like me?”

He lets out a sound close to a pained laugh that lodges itself in his throat as he twists awkwardly away from her. A deep crimson colour has begun to creep up his neck and he pulls nervously at his shirt collar in a meek attempt to combat it.

“I’ve not been very subtle, (Y/N).”

“Clearly you have!” (Y/N) bursts, only shrinking with the realisation that, just down the hall, George is sleeping in his room. “Since when?”

“Since you kissed me,” He exclaims exasperatedly, “Favour bloody one.”

She stands, suddenly hit by the need to pace, to move around as she deals with all the questions that race through her head. Gulping, Fred watches her move, suddenly afraid that he’s made this favour their last.

Then, she comes to a stop.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“An idiot,” (Y/N) repeats, “You made me feel like the last resort for the yule ball, but you’re telling me that was serious?”

“Hey,” He frowns, “It was serious right until you started giving me this look like I was insane and I had to cover my arse somehow-”

“Shut up,”

She drops herself onto his lap, cupping his cheeks in her hands and holding his face there, inches from her own. He watches, frozen in awe, as her eyes dance across his face. She’s tracing his freckles again, close enough to be mesmerised all over again.

“Since we’re pretty terrible with signals,” She exhales, “When I kiss you now… it’s not just a favour.”

“Thank Merlin for that.”

~* The Battle of Hogwarts*~

Hogwarts has never felt so different.

Standing here now, it’s hard for (Y/N) to imagine these are the same hallways they once walked down, that she and Fred used to sneak through in the dark for midnight snacks and linger outside of before teachers arrived.

Tucked into an alcove of the corridor, Fred and (Y/N) watch the havoc unfolding, keenly aware of what lies ahead, the war that’s been looming over them all year. He holds her hand in his own, squeezing it as reassuringly as he can manage as she chews nervously on her bottom lip.

“It’s going to be okay, right?”

“Of course, Love,” He smiles, lifting a hand to gently caress her cheek, “We’ll be fine.”

She nods, melting into his warm touch. But nothing eases the weight that has settled on her chest, the anxious feeling that is telling her everything is about to go wrong. She searches his eyes for something familiar to cling onto.

“I don’t like us not sticking together,” Fred admits quietly, “We should be where we can keep an eye on each other.”

“I promised Madam Pomfrey I’d help with the injured,” (Y/N) admits sadly, “And you should be with George.”

“I know,” He breathes, “I just don’t like it,”

She smiles sadly in agreement.

“Me either,” She admits, “but I’ll be fine… I’ve always had better defence marks than you anyway,”

Much to (Y/N)’s relief, Fred laughs, bringing back a sense of normality, even if just for a moment. The hand on her cheeks pinches her playfully and his brown eyes roll with a teasing glint to them.

“Look at you, joking in a crisis,” He teases, “I’m so proud,”

“I’ve known you long enough to have picked up some sort of ill-timed sense of humour,”

He lets out a short chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I love you, (Y/N),”

“I love you too,”

He leans in to capture her lips in a gentle kiss, a practiced art that has a well-known warmth flooding (Y/N)’s chest. Yet, as he pulls back, he leaves something bitter sweet behind, the ache of a goodbye kiss.

“I should go,” He admits, “Before we end up caught up in the crowds, right?”

“Yeah,”

“I’ll see you once it’s all over,” He grins, “When we’ve won,”

It takes a moment for (Y/N) to convince herself to let go of his hand and feels suddenly cold once it’s gone. He’s turning away with one last wave when she calls him back, heart hammering in her chest.

“Do me a favour?”

He pauses before breaking into a small smile.

“Always, Love.”

“Don’t die.”

“I promise.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred x reader #fred imagine #fred imagines #fred x you #fred weasley x you #reader insert #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #fred and george #fred weasley

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sibsteria · 3 years

Text

stronger than the all father [jack kline]

prompts: none

summary: Jack and Y/n have identical wings, they aren't related and she isn't an angel so what's going on?

characters: Jack Kline, Castiel, (mentioned) Dean Winchester, (mentioned) Sam Winchester, (mentioned) God

warnings: BIG FLUFF, confused!Cas

---

''So, Jack, you've been here more several months now. How are you liking it here?'' He was shoulders deep into a bowl of cereal, I had hopped up to the counter to talk to my favourite nephilim.

''I'm starting to like it more than I did when I first came here, Dean isn't as mean to me now.'' His nonchalant shrug just makes me awe at his personality.

''I told you he'd come around, I've always believed in you.'' He stops crunching and looks at me.

''Thank you- for believing in me, I don't think I'd be the same without you. I feel like I have to be near you all the time, it's weird.'' He squeezes his brows together at his own words, I slant a smile and send it his way.

''Sometimes you just love the company of people.'' I let my smile widen and push down from the counter, walking over to him. I pat his shoulder and lean against the table.

''No, it's more than that. Do you trust me, can I try something?'' I nod immediately.

''I trust you with every bone in my body, go ahead.'' I motion for him to proceed.

''Close your eyes and count to five.'' I do what he says, no hesitance.

''One-'' His spoon hits the ceramic bowl.

''Two-'' The wooden chair scraped back against the floor.

''Three, Four-'' His concentrated sigh sounds out.

''Five-'' A bright light bats against my closed eyelids, with a heavy fluttering sound. An intense tingling spreads across my shoulder blades and middle back.

I open my eyes and cry out in confusion.

''Ah- what- what's happening to me?'' I yell as it becomes slightly painful, gripping onto the table as a crutch, Jack is by my side in seconds.

''I-I don't know, I just-'' I look up to see beautiful white wings, with tawny brown accents cascading down the long feathers.

''Woah, Jack...your wings...'' The pain isn't forgotten but shoved aside as my breath is taken away by him.

''So you can see them?'' He looks excited and hopeful, I nod and smile with question.

''I thought we couldn't see win-'' I scream as a shooting pain digs through my skin, this one more intense than the last. He holds me up so I don't buckle to the floor, the pain is replaced with a soothing coolness as I find relief.

''Y/n!'' A rich, fluorescent burning projects around the room, similar to Jack's. He staggers back, it blinds him for a slight moment.

The light fades and Jack seems breathless and scared.

''What-what's wrong?!'' My eyes search around the room for an answer.

''You...have wings-'' I snap my head to the side, yelping as I see the fluffy planes sprouting from me.

''They're like mine, no one has wings like mine-'' He tilts his head, walking closer to me, I walk up to him, meeting in the middle of the room.

''What does it mean?'' I look up at him, he's thinking of a secure answer.

''I don't know, I was talking to Castiel and he said that- a true soulmate can see angel wings and I thought mine might be you. I was so sure, and when you said you could see them it felt amazing but- but I don't know what this means. Castiel never told me about this.''

''I will be honest with you, I'm trying so hard not to panic right now, when I said I could trust you-'' Jack must have thought I was backtracking on my trust so I urge myself to carry on. His eyes crinkled and his jaw dropped, in despair.

''No, no, no! Jack I still trust you, so much. I just didn't expect this to happen. Like, yes I'm panicking but- but-'' I stop and try to slow my breathing, which is now rapid and stammered.

''Hey, it's okay.'' He wraps his arms around me, as best as he could with the large units of flight stretched out.

''I'm so glad I'm your soulmate, Jack.'' I whisper, fear still imminent.

''Me too, but I don't know why you have wings, this shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry.'' He is riddled with anxiety.

''You don't need to apologise, you didn't know.'' After my sentence, Castiel appears, frantic and panicking.

''Jack, why does she have wings? Angel radio is breaking down, all the angels are in panic mode. May-day warnings are everywhere. I came to see if you were all okay and-'' I widen my eyes at Cas' explanation.

''So- you don't know why I have wings?'' I'm full on freaking out now.

''Well, maybe-but it's a myth, a legend. I doubt it could be.'' Castiel seems to be thinking hard, weighing his beliefs,

''What is it?'' Jack asks.

''Well. They say angel soulmates and nephilim soulmates are different. If a nephilim finds their soulmate then they can bring about the world ending. They are said to sprout wings identical to their counterpart and when flayed together, a magic most powerful will be born.'' I feel dizzy and confused.

''So does putting the wings together end the world-'' Jack and I jump away from each other as to not touch wings.

''Not if intentions are pure, at least that's what it means in old Enochian.'' At this I settle, any intentions that rise from Jack are innocent and pure.

''D-Do you want to put them together?'' If Dean were here, he would've made a sex joke at Jack's question.

I look over to Castiel and he nods, pushing that it should be okay,

I turn my back to Jack and he does the same, inching closer to each other a tingle sends signals up and down my feathers as we near each other.

When our wings collide, a light similar to before erupts from our wings, coursing a white energy through them.

The beamed glow surrounds both our wings and bodies eventually.

I look around but we aren't in the bunker anymore, and Cas is no where to be seen. We are in a place booming with greenery and vast infrastructures, it's beautiful.

As I'm no angel, I ask for Jack.

''Is this like, heaven?'' I move from him to face him.

''I think...I think it's our heaven.'' I understand him from the get-go.

''What about Cas? And everyone else?'' I panic.

''This must only be temporary, I can feel the power that we hold, stronger than God's.'' I could vomit at his words.

''W-we have power stronger than God, THE God?'' He notices my freak out and cups my face with his cool hands.

''Don't worry, I'm here.'' He hugs me tight and I can feel the pureness that surrounds him.

''I know.''

#Jack Kline #jack kline imagine #jack kline x reader #jack kline imagines #supernatural #supernatural imagine #castiel

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

Moreid Drabble

Prompt: something angsty with embarrassed!spencer, for @casparwrites

Word Count: 1.2k

Masterlist

Spencer knows this isn't going to go well for him the minute Emily opens her mouth.

She'd invited them round to hers for dinner and drinks after work, and although Hotch and Rossi had been invited, they'd both declined the invitation, likely in anticipation of exactly what had happened: wine turning to shots, and pleasant conversation devolving quickly into gossip.

Spencer hadn't minded at all at first. She'd ordered in from a Thai restaurant he happened to love, and sitting round in a comfortable, spacious living room chatting with his best friends is hardly a regrettable situation to find yourself in. So he allowed himself to relax, drinking almost as much as everyone else and joining in with all the conversation around him.

Besides, the red flush on his cheeks from the wine meant he could stare at Derek a little more overtly and not risk having his blush immediately clue everyone into the crippling crush he has on his colleague.

But then Emily suggests playing Never Have I Ever. In Spencer's experience, both drinking games and party games never go well for him, and he has no reason to believe this will be any different.

That's not true, he tells himself sternly as Emily and Penelope start mixing the cocktails. Parties at Caltech and MIT were a world away from a small gathering of five people who love and accept him for exactly who he is. This will be fine. Everything will be absolutely fine.

And for a couple rounds, it is. They laugh at the drunken escapades the game allows them to relive — they all know far too much about one another for the game to really reveal any new information in that regard — and Spencer learns far too much about his coworkers' sex lives.

(He also learns that Derek has slept with a man. Interesting.)

No one's really surprised when Spencer doesn't put his finger down for any of the wild sex-related Never Have I Ever statements that the others come up with, because everyone knows that while they may have had their late teens and early twenties to let loose and party at college, Spencer certainly didn't. Nobody says anything, but he can feel Derek's eyes on him, and he's trying really hard not to blush.

They play happily for quite a while before it happens, and Spencer's settled into a certain kind of comfort, he's been lulled into a false sense of security, because it hits him like a truck when it happens.

"Never have I ever kissed someone," Derek says boldly; loudly, shutting down the quiet chatter and giggles from around the circle until all that's left is the 90s Hits CD they'd put in playing in the background.

The thing is, he's looking right at Spencer. In fact, everybody's looking right at Spencer, and all of a sudden there's blood pounding in his ears and his face is burning a red so fierce he knows there's no way to play this one off, because Derek's suspicion is right, dammit.

He's dizzy with the humiliation, sick with the fact that even this — this family he's found, these friendships he's built — even this isn't safe, and is he ever going to actually be able to feel that safety and allow himself to enjoy it? Will he always be waiting for the other shoe to drop? Is he simply destined for these soul-sucking moments of utter embarrassment and humiliation and anger and sadness to happen wherever he goes? Is he that unlikeable, that unloveable, that everybody, even kind and compassionate people like Derek Morgan, has the urge to humiliate him?

Before he knows what he's doing, he's stumbling to his feet and running down the hall to the bathroom barricading himself inside before he can have a panic attack in front of his friends team. The wine that just moments ago felt pleasant in its gentle buzz in his bloodstream suddenly feels sick and heavy at the bottom of his stomach and he breathes in deeply to calm himself down.

His head is spinning and he's trying not to cry, and all he wants is to disappear because he's gonna have to face them again, there's no way to get out of the house without them seeing, oh God, they're gonna—

Before his thoughts can spiral any deeper, there's a heavy knock at the door, and Derek's deep voice is pleading with him through the painted wood.

"Pretty boy? Can you open the door for me?" he asks, and Spencer can hear the desperation and urgency in his voice. "I'm so sorry, kid, I'm so sorry. Listen, I know you're in there, just let me in, okay? I just wanna apologise."

Spencer takes another couple of deep breaths, trying to still the spinning bathroom in his vision before facing Derek again. Eventually, after a couple of minutes of deep breathing and Derek's intermittent pleas, he manages to bring himself to open the door, revealing his pitiful friend in front of him.

"Pretty boy, listen, I really am so sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, and I shouldn't have said what I said," Derek says, gazing imploringly into Spencer's eyes. "I was just curious but I went about it in the wrong way and ended up embarrassing you, and that's the last thing I meant to do, you have to believe me—"

Spencer isn't sure what compels him to do it, but Derek is rambling and Spencer is staring at his mouth and the pretty shapes it makes when he talks, and before he knows it, he's surging forward and pressing his lips against Derek's mid-sentence.

It's so brief and chaste he doesn't give Derek any time to react, because he's quickly pulling away as horror fills him, his blood turning cold. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I can't believe I did that! I don't know—"

He doesn't get any further in his apology, because Derek's leaning back in, slower this time, more deliberately, and kissing him again, taking his jaw in one hand and his waist in the other as Spencer's hands come up to rest on Derek's strong chest. He's being kissed like this is the last time Derek will ever get the chance, like the sun won't rise in the morning and this is the only time their lips will ever be pressed together like this, and it's dizzying, this time in a good way.

When they finally pull apart, Derek looks desperate and serious as his eyes flick between meeting each of Spencer's, and he can't stand him looking or feeling like that any longer, so he says it. He admits the feelings he's had for Derek since he first met him.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do that."

Derek melts in relief as a big smile works its way onto the lips Spencer just kissed. "Thank God, pretty boy, because I reckon I've been waiting even longer."

Somehow, Spencer doubts that, but he smiles anyway and leans in for another kiss because right now all he wants to think about is how the first person to ever kiss him was Derek Morgan, and how he never wants anybody else to ever do the same.

There'll be time for playful bickering in the morning. There'll be time for a lot of things come morning, and Spencer just can't wait to see what it'll hold.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @hotchscotchh @marsjareau @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds @wifeyprentiss @cmily @love-pyramus @notevanbuckley (add yourself to my taglist)

#caspar #mutuals #maja celebrates 1k #moreid #derek morgan #spencer reid #moreid drabble #moreid fluff #moreid fic #derek morgan/spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #criminal minds #cm

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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

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Cranky

Jiang Cheng usually prides himself of being able to ignore his phone while he’s at work, but when it lights up with Nie Mingjue’s name on it, Jiang Cheng makes an exception.

His day is going badly enough already that he really desperately wants to hear Nie Mingjue, if even for a little bit.

“Mingjue,” he greets him as he accepts the call.

“Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue gives back warmly, and just hearing his voice makes some of the tension in Jiang Cheng’s shoulders disappear.

“What’s up?” Jiang Cheng asks. “You don’t usually call me during work.”

“I know,” Nie Mingjue says with a sigh and Jiang Cheng can just imagine the little frown on his face. “But I have to cancel tonight,” he then apologetically says and just like that Jiang Cheng’s good-ish mood plummets again.

“Oh, I see,” he whispers.

They have a weekly thing, where they go for a run first before they watch a movie and if Jiang Cheng is being honest, then he has to admit that it’s the highlight of his week.

And he was looking forward to it, especially today.

“I’m really sorry,” Nie Mingjue tells him. “Some more deliveries at work came up, and I’ll have to make a special route after work to get it all done.”

“I understand,” Jiang Cheng says, because he does.

Nie Mingjue is one of the most hard-working people he knows and sometimes it just can’t be helped.

Jiang Cheng knows that very well, seeing as he himself is prone to working long past official office hours. Usually it’s Nie Mingjue to tell him to relax then, and so Jiang Cheng can’t help but to fall into the same role.

Even though he’s a lot gruffer about it than Nie Mingjue usually is.

“Just see to it that you don’t overwork yourself,” he grumbles out and is met with a light chuckle.

“I knew you cared,” Nie Mingjue teasingly says and Jiang Cheng scoffs.

“Dream on,” Jiang Cheng says immediately. “It’s just that if you overwork yourself, I don’t have a running buddy anymore, and what am I gonna do then.”

“You also won’t have a movie buddy anymore,” Nie Mingjue says and Jiang Cheng has to admit that he’s right.

Not having a movie buddy might just be worse than not having a running buddy. Jiang Cheng is used to running on his own, and he will be fine if he has to do it again, but going back to watching movies on his own after having Nie Mingjue’s company for so long now, that would be considerably worse.

“So just take care of yourself,” Jiang Cheng snaps, completely on the defence as he realizes that Nie Mingjue knows him maybe a little bit too well and Nie Mingjue chuckles.

“I will give it my best. Same time next week, though?” he asks and Jiang Cheng nods before he can think twice about it.

“Of course,” he grumbles, because when did they ever not meet and he feels insulted that Nie Mingjue even has to ask.

“Thought so,” Nie Mingjue says with a chuckle. “Have a good week.”

“You, too,” Jiang Cheng manages to get out before Nie Mingjue hangs up on him.

They don’t usually text much during the week, apart from their regular confirmation that they are in fact still on for their running and movie meeting and Jiang Cheng is kind of glad about it.

He doesn’t know if he could survive being in constant contact with Nie Mingjue like that; running with him once a week and being overly aware of the fact that Nie Mingjue will be naked in the shower and then having to sit close to him on the couch is already enough of a strain on Jiang Cheng’s already fraying self-control.

When Jiang Cheng puts down the phone he lets out a deep sigh. He can’t say that he’s too sad about cancelling today, if he’s being honest. Work today has been shit so far and while he was looking forward to running and getting his aggressions out that way, he would much rather put on his sleeping clothes and curl up under a blanket to mindlessly watch a show or something instead of watching a whole movie.

And now he can do just that when he comes home.

It’s the only thought that gets him through the rest of the day if Jiang Cheng is being honest and when he finally makes his way home he feels weary and tired to the bone.

He still manages to drag himself under the shower but the tension only starts to seep out of his shoulders when he puts on his sleeping clothes—a frayed t-shirt and baggy sweatpants—and he curls up on the couch.

There’s a tiny part of himself that wishes Nie Mingjue were here right now, if only so Jiang Cheng doesn’t give into his self-pity for today, but if Nie Mingjue were here, he wouldn’t get to curl up like this, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be in his sleeping clothes yet, so Jiang Cheng is rather torn on the issue.

He can at least admit that his day seems off somehow, now that Nie Mingjue is not going to come over, but instead of dwelling too much on that, Jiang Cheng gets up to get some ice cream for himself.

It’s one of those days, and he intends to wallow in it.

Jiang Cheng just stuffed his mouth full of ice cream when someone knocks on his door.

Jiang Cheng freezes, totally caught off guard, and he has half a mind to simply pretend that he’s not home, when it knocks again. And again and again.

Jiang Cheng groans as he peels himself out of his blanket, looking mournfully at his ice cream before he puts it down on the table and then he makes his way over to the door.

“Cut it out already,” he seethes as he yanks open the door—already angry at whoever it is on the other side—only to freeze when he comes face to face with Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue musters his face, before he very deliberately lets his eyes wander up and down Jiang Cheng’s form and Jiang Cheng would love nothing more than to disappear right that moment.

“I see you started without me,” Nie Mingjue says with a smile and Jiang Cheng fights the stupid urge to hide behind something and instead plasters a frown to his face. “And you’re cranky.”

“You said you couldn’t make it,” he snaps out, completely caught off guard and Nie Mingjue shrugs.

“Zonghui thinks I’m doing too much and I shouldn’t sacrifice one of the few evenings a month I take for myself so he took all the deliveries and told me to go home.”

“How nice of him,” Jiang Cheng hears himself say—because it is really nice of Nie Zonghui to do that—but he cannot deal with the fact that Nie Mingjue sees him in his ratty clothes.

Jiang Cheng is so much less put together than he likes to be; he’s wearing his oldest clothes, his hair is a half dried mess, and with Jiang Cheng’s luck there’s a chocolate smear on his cheek from the ice cream, he just knows it.

“Wait,” Jiang Cheng blurts out when Nie Mingjue’s words finally make it into his brain. “You decide to spend your evenings off with me,” he whispers out, suddenly horrified at himself that he takes up so much of Nie Mingjue’s time.

“Yes?” Nie Mingjue asks, clearly unsure what has Jiang Cheng in such a panic.

“You should do something you want on those evenings!”

“I am,” Nie Mingjue immediately gives back and there’s so little hesitation in his voice that Jiang Cheng has no other choice but to believe him. “I want to spend them with you. Always,” Nie Mingjue tacks on rather awkwardly and Jiang Cheng goes bright red in the face, he can feel it burning.

“What do you want?” Nie Mingjue asks after a long moment in which Jiang Cheng can do nothing but stare at him.

“For this evening?” Jiang Cheng asks, because he can’t think clearly and surely Nie Mingjue isn’t implying what Jiang Cheng thinks he’s implying because that would mean he chooses very deliberately to see Jiang Cheng once a week even though he doesn’t have much time otherwise.

A very hysterical part of Jiang Cheng points out that maybe he should have thought about that earlier, but Jiang Cheng is in too much panic to listen to it.

“In general,” Nie Mingjue says with a shrug and Jiang Cheng blinks at him.

“For you to not judge me for this,” he finally says with a vague hand gesture at all of himself, because Jiang Cheng knows for a fact that even on the weekends Nie Mingjue takes off he is definitely more put together than Jiang Cheng is in that moment.

“I would never,” Nie Mingjue immediately tells him and then smiles at him, which makes Jiang Cheng’s pulse skyrocket. “I actually find it rather adorable,” Nie Mingjue then says mischievously and Jiang Cheng feels like his brain is shutting down.

“Shut up,” he weakly says but Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem particularly fazed by that.

“I don’t think I will, actually,” Nie Mingjue says. “It makes you look very soft.”

Jiang Cheng blinks at him a few times because Nie Mingjue’s words don’t make any sense. There is no way in hell Nie Mingjue has any other feelings for him than some misplaced older brother protectiveness, Jiang Cheng is sure of that.

At least he had been until now.

“What do you want?” he asks again, though his voice comes out weak and breathy and Nie Mingjue’s face goes very soft.

Nie Mingjue reaches out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind Jiang Cheng’s ear and when Nie Mingjue cups Jiang Cheng’s face in his big palm a shudder runs down Jiang Cheng’s back.

“I want to make you understand how loved you are,” Nie Mingjue whispers, matching his tone to Jiang Cheng’s and that does nothing to explain to Jiang Cheng just what he means with that. “If you would let me,” Nie Mingjue tacks on when Jiang Cheng stands frozen like a statue and then he exerts the faintest of pressure on Jiang Cheng’s cheek; just enough to pull him a little bit forwards.

Jiang Cheng is helpless to stop the movement, and he’s very sure he doesn’t actually want to stop anything that is happening right now and so he allows Nie Mingjue to guide him further and further towards Nie Mingjue’s broad chest.

“Will you let me?” Nie Mingjue asks, his breath ghosting over Jiang Cheng’s lips and Jiang Cheng isn’t sure he could find his voice if his life depended on it, so he simply leans forwards and closes the last tiny bit of distance between them.

Jiang Cheng isn’t sure if he ever had a more perfect first kiss, but he guesses the answer to that is no. His eyes drifted shut on their own accord and his hands find a place at the front of Nie Mingjue’s shirt, urging him closer.

Nie Mingjue keeps his one hand on Jiang Cheng’s cheek, but the other one migrates to the small of Jiang Cheng’s back and it’s so hot and so comfortingly heavy that Jiang Cheng has to bite back a groan at that.

“I can’t believe you just made us do that in the doorway,” Jiang Cheng complaints when they finally part, because he’s stupid and his brain doesn’t work right, but Nie Mingjue only chuckles.

Jiang Cheng can feel it in his own chest, they are standing so close, and he thinks he might never want to move ever again.

“You wouldn’t invite me in. I had to make do with what I had,” Nie Mingjue easily gives back and then presses another fleeting kiss to the corner of Jiang Cheng’s mouth. “But I wouldn’t complain if you were to invite me in.”

“Of course you’re going to come in,” Jiang Cheng bites out and uses his hands which are still fisted into the front of Nie Mingjue’s shirt to pull him inside the apartment.

Once the door is closed behind them some nerves creep back in and Jiang Cheng awkwardly disentangles his hands from Nie Mingjue’s shirt.

“What do you want now?” Jiang Cheng asks and curses himself when he realizes that it came out completely wrong. He wanted to ask what Nie Mingjue wanted to do now, but not this.

“Are you saying you’re feeling loved yet?” Nie Mingjue says questioningly as he tilts his head in the single most adorable movement Jiang Cheng has ever seen.

“Not sure, actually,” Jiang Cheng shoots back, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Again, Nie Mingjue’s face goes very soft and he tucks Jiang Cheng closer with a hand on his hip.

“I love you,” Nie Mingjue breathes out, peppering Jiang Cheng’s face with soft, fleeting butterfly kisses. “I love you very much,” he makes his point with a more passionate kiss this time and Jiang Cheng hums into it.

“I see,” he mutters, their lips still brushing against each other. “I feel loved,” Jiang Cheng then decides with a small nod. “And I love you, too,” he then says, because he didn’t yet and Nie Mingjue needs to know that.

“So I can move on to something else then,” Nie Mingjue muses and noses Jiang Cheng’s cheek, which totally doesn’t make Jiang Cheng’s knees go weak.

“Do you want anything else?” Jiang Cheng asks confidently, though he’s keeping upright more by clutching at Nie Mingjue’s shoulders than anything else.

“I want to make you happy,” Nie Mingjue says after a moment of deliberation and Jiang Cheng immediately shakes his head.

“You’ll have to pick something else,” he tells Nie Mingjue who frowns at him, clearly unhappy with Jiang Cheng’s answer.

Jiang Cheng huffs out a little laugh and cups Nie Mingjue’s cheek in his hand.

“You already make me very happy,” he then tells him and watches as Nie Mingjue’s face lights up with his smile.

“I see,” Nie Mingjue mutters. “Then I want to keep you happy,” he immediately decides and Jiang Cheng swears he’s just doing that to kill him.

This is way too adorable.

“Stop that,” Jiang Cheng complaints, though it’s half-hearted at best and Nie Mingjue seems to know it too, because he doesn’t seem inclined to follow Jiang Cheng’s words.

“What do you want?” Nie Mingjue eventually asks him, and Jiang Cheng has to take a moment to find his words again.

“I want to continue this on the couch,” he finally decides and Nie Mingjue lets out a loud and happy laugh.

“Anything to keep you happy,” he decides and simply picks Jiang Cheng up, before he carries him over to the living-room.

Jiang Cheng yelps when his feet leave the ground, but Nie Mingjue’s grip on him is sure and strong and so instead of struggling Jiang Cheng slings his arms around Nie Mingjue’s shoulders and simply holds on.

It’s not long before Nie Mingjue sits down on the couch, Jiang Cheng now firmly in his lap and Jiang Cheng immediately leans up to get back to kissing. Nie Mingjue is quick to indulge him and Jiang Cheng already knows that this will be one of his favourite things to do.

By the time they remember the ice cream on the table it has long turned into soup, and so they refreeze it on their way to the bedroom.

It is still tasty when they have it for breakfast the next morning.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #mingcheng #modern au #getting together #flirting #first kiss #humor #fluff

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desertofsnowflakes · 3 years

Text

Incorrect Order Chapter 2 (Nessian AU)

A/N: DO inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: Abuse and Swearing

1957 words | Part 1 | Read on AO3

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Cassian was waiting. And waiting. And waiting. He waited for the day he would forget the woman’s face. He waited for the day he could close his eyes without seeing her blue-grey eyes blazing in anger. He waited for the day he wouldn’t burn his bacon because he was thinking about her.

He had mused, how the face of a stranger was branded into his mind vividly. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t wondered if they’ve known each other before or have seen each other somewhere, anywhere before the day in the mall—even if on photographs or at an event or at another shopping mall. Still, he desperately wanted to forget about her. He wanted to forget that she ever existed. He wanted to forget their encounter in the mall that day. He wanted to forget everything about her, even though deep down, he knew what he wanted was far from forgetting her.

But he couldn’t afford this. He couldn’t afford to think about her at all times. He was getting distracted at work. His part-time job as a martial-arts instructor and as a sommelier was in a precarious position if it went on like this. He nearly tore one of his student’s muscles in his centre and got at least 5 orders wrong at the restaurant he was working at.

On a Saturday noon, Cassian decided the best way to clear his head was to dive into a war book or reread Secrets Of The Sommeliers for probably the millionth time.

* * *

Nesta flinched at the sudden ping of the oven timer. Again. She’d been thinking about him again. This was the fourth time in the whole week when she burned her cheese sandwich and she was getting so tired of this. She urgently needed a way to stop thinking about him. To stop seeing his insufferable grin whenever she closed her eyes. To stop thinking about him at almost all times.

It struck her as odd, the fact they didn’t even know each other’s names but she kept seeing his face as if they’ve known each other before. She gasped. What if they had known each other before? What if they were probably neighbours from Nesta’s old house or classmates or maybe they went to the same college. Nesta shook her head.

But why should she care? No, she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care what his name is or if he even has a name. She doesn’t care if she’s had the misfortune of seeing him before or if that was the first she’s seeing him. Or so she kept telling herself. She couldn’t afford to have him occupy her thoughts. She had better things to do. But all these excuses weren't enough to stop her from still thinking about him.

Nesta looked at her clock. It was a Saturday, almost noon. Maybe reading a spicy book or two will help.

* * *

Cassian loved the House of Wind library and bookstore. They had a variety of books in almost any genre. He'll admit though, that some of the librarians here are better left alone. He was lucky he came here often and therefore knew a handful of the merrier librarians. He made a beeline for his favourite section, books related to wine, best books for sommeliers.

On his way to the shelves he had committed to memory, he realised that there was a big poster about their annual Free Premium Membership Fest where 20 fortunate, early birds would get their membership card updated to premium with a number of privileges. Cassian's whole being was elevated. He missed the last fest they held and had been waiting for the next fest. He wondered how he could forget such an important thing. Oh. Right. Of course. A certain lady was occupying his thoughts. He sighed. He forgot about that too.

He was quite disappointed when he reached the counter. The fest started yesterday and the computer stated that there was only one person left till 20. What truly disappointed him was that Clotho wasn't at the counter as she usually was. Maybe she'll be in the—

“If you're done staring at the computer maybe you could deign to move so it can really serve its purpose of being a public property?” Cass froze. He'd know that voice anywhere. This was the voice taunting him at all times. “And if you have coffee in your hands, I'd suggest you turn slowly.”

He smirked. So she knew who she was talking to.

“Well, looks like the damage would be lesser this time since your clothes aren't white,” he observed.

“I figured black would hide stains caused by ogling, clumsy people better than white,” she said. “Now, if you could move, I want to register for the Membership Fest.”

“Register? What do you mean by ‘I want to register for the Membership Fest’?”

“A register, you know,” she teased, “Something like a form where you fill your details if you want to join something?” She smirked at his glare.

“Well,” he said, “if there is a register let me fill it first.”

“Because your ego is bigger?”

“Ha-ha, very funny,” he dead-panned. “I came here first.”

“Here as in the counter or the library? Because I’m pretty sure I stepped into this library first.”

Cassian quickly checked the database where the information of all members appeared. He turned back to her with a self-satisfied smirk. “The database shows otherwise, sweetheart.”

She scowled. “I don’t believe you. You might’ve tampered with the information.”

He moved slightly to the side to give her a better view. Her scowled deepened.

She rounded on him. “You,” seethed. “You did—”

“Hello,” a new, shy voice said.

“Hey, Gwyn,” they both said in symphony.

A look of surprise crossed over her features before it faded away. When the woman turned to Gwyn, she wore a huge smile. “Oh, look, she smiles,” he muttered, earning him a glare.

“Is the fest still on?” Cassian asked.

Gwyneth Berdara, one of the joyful librarians here, said, “Unfortunately, not. We just got our 20th member.”

Cassian’s face fell. He noticed the same of the woman too. Gwyn, always the optimistic one, said cheerfully, “Maybe we could reserve one for the both of you next year?”

They both murmured their assent before Gwyn offered her farewell and went back to the staffroom.

The woman turned back to him. “This is all your fault,” she hissed and stalked out of the library, leaving Cassian more confused than ever.

* * *

Nesta went to the library to find solace or at least a semblance of it. Seeing the man there, however, left Nesta more rattled than she would care to admit. Rattled, and angry. Angry at the universe for giving them these unfortunate encounters. Angry at him for following her wherever she went. Angry at herself for feeling such futile emotions. Angry at her body for reacting to him.

She was also upset that she didn’t get a free premium member cr

Nesta was so occupied with her thoughts and emotions that she didn’t realise she was taking the wrong route. She wasn’t familiar with this part of Velaris. She also didn’t realise she was being followed. It was distinct, the sound of hushed breathing, of the soft thuds of footfalls. The footsteps sounded heavier which most probably meant it was a man. She couldn’t really be sure, though. This was a person who was not experienced in stalking but was trying hard enough.

Nesta knew she shouldn’t panic but couldn’t help the bout of fear that crashed through her. Nesta tried to stay calm. She tried to make sure she didn't quicken her pace. She tried, cauldron, she really did. But her fear was slowly overpowering her senses. She felt the urge to run away from her stalker.

But that wouldn’t be wise. Running away from her stalker isn’t a good choice. It wasn’t smart. Who’s to know he wasn’t armed? What if he was faster than her? What if her stalker was faster than her? He might be stronger too. He could over power her and cage her in. She didn’t even know what his motive was.

Then, Nesta made a ridiculously huge, dumb mistake. She turned to an abandoned alley. At least it looked abandoned. She let out a frustrated breath. Running away was at least better than getting stuck in an alley. So much for ‘that wouldn't be wise’. She looked around, trying to get a sense of where she was or if there were any means of escape, however meager it might be.

Suddenly, she was slammed to the alley wall. The rough cold stone was unforgiving and unyielding under her cheek. Her windpipe was closed off and she was struggling to get some air in. She fought to get free but her captor —a man, as she guessed— was too strong. Somehow, his hands felt familiar to her. As if she were long acquainted with this person’s touch.

“What do you want?” she gasped out.

He chuckled, the sound grating through her very bones.

“My little Nesta,” he whispered, his hot breath ghosting the shell of her ear. “Ever the stubborn one.”

That voice. It was one that she couldn’t forget as hard as she tried. Tomas Mandray, her ex-boyfriend, was someone not easily forgotten.

“Tomas,” she said. She couldn’t bring herself to be nice. Not now, not after how he treated her. “What the fuck do you want? Let me go.”

“I see you haven’t changed at all.”

“I can say the same of you.”

“Mhm. You broke up with me and then you called the police. Got me stuck behind bars for two fucking months.”

“Good riddance,” she muttered.

He slammed her head against the wall. Hard. Blinding pain shot through her. He yanked her hair so hard she was afraid chunks of it came out. Her head only throbbed harder.

“Manners were never your cup of tea,” he hissed.

“You were not that kind either. You were an empowering, possessive bastard and I don’t regret watching you grovel to the police for freedom for one fucking moment and I won’t ever.”

He growled and slammed her head against the wall again. She cried out and was pretty sure she heard something crack. She felt the metallic tang of blood on her lips, streaming from her nose freely.

“Oh, you will. You’ll regret everything. Every. Single. Thing. For your whole god-damned life. I’ll make sure of it, bitch,” he promised.

He tightened his grip on her hair that sent another wave of agony through her. She caught the glint of something in the fading sunlight. A knife. Of course he had a knife.

He had a knife while she was a mess, kneeling on an alley, completely at the mercy of one of the people who hated her the most. Pathetic. So, so, pathetic. She hated herself for whimpering. She hated herself for being this weak. She hated that she had gotten panicked enough that she turned to an alley, where no one would know.

Here, in this unknown alley, with the person she hated the most, Nesta Archeron was going to die. She was going to die a death as unknown as the place she was in. Maybe even without her sisters knowing. Shit. Her sisters. If only she showed all her love to sweet Elain and brave Feyre, if only she even went to meet her brother-in-laws, Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian, maybe things would’ve been different. She closed her eyes, fighting the emotion in her throat. I’m sorry Elain, Feyre, Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian, I’m so, so sorry, was the last thing in her head before she felt acute pain and succumbed to the dragging talons of oblivion.

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writingsweetroll · 3 years

Text

**Summary: Louis has worries for his one year old, and Clementine soothes them by opening up about her own issues.**

Louis tried his best to not toss and turn, he really hated these beds. They were so springy, you do anything on it, so much as lay a hand on the mattress and it would make a springy noise. The noise wouldn’t annoy him as much if Clementine wasn’t laying beside him, he quickly found out she was a very light sleeper. It broke his heart that she wasn’t born a light sleeper, she just adapted to being one due to all of the trauma she faced. He wanted to make sure she got as much sleep as she could- so tossing and turning would definitely awaken her and that was the last thing he wanted.

So, he lay stiff as a board. Looking above to the mattress above him. He anxiously counted the number of bars holding the bed above him, distracting his mind to the best of his abilities. Because every time he couldn’t sleep at night, his mind went to dark places. *You have no idea what you’re doing.* He would think. That main thought spiraled out of control to other thoughts. But, that one main thought started from the time he was child, to now. It adapted to whatever situation he was in. As a child, ‘You have no idea what you’re doing’ related to the spelling bee, now, it is related to parenting his one year old daughter.

He grabbed the chair next to the desk, and placed it near the bed. He sat on it and watched her sleep soundly. A warm feeling was felt in his chest, unknowingly smiling ear to ear. He examined her features, and the midnight moon shone upon her face. She mainly had Louis’ features, his freckles, skin color, and eye shape. But, her lashes were full and her eyes were as golden as Clementines, her hair was also kinky just like Clementines. She was a perfect mix between the two.

*You don’t know what you’re doing, do you?*

Louis furrowed his brows as the thought entered his mind. No matter how many baby books he read, or conversations with Clementine he had about how to raise a baby into childhood, his mind was never satisfied with himself.

*To put your girlfriend through so much pain during her pregnancy, so selfish to bring a kid into this world, you’re a monster.*

That wasn’t true. Louis knew it. It wasn’t a mindless decision or an accident, it was multiple conversations and respectful debates about when or if they should start a family. After weeks, they decided together that they wanted a family, and they had enough resources to do so. And the pregnancy went better than expected, minor pain here and there, and the delivery had no scares. Thankfully, whenever Louis would remember this, it seemed as if thoughts grew quieter, and instead he imagined a world where the apocalypse wasn’t here. He wondered what her parents would think of him, or Lee, even Kenny. He didn’t know much about them, but he knew enough to know she cared deeply for them.

Suddenly, his daughter sniffled, causing him to go into panic mode. He calmed himself down once she went back to her normal state. It was spring, and it was just allergies but he was still terrified of her getting sick. Louis sighed, slouching against the chair now.

Although Louis truly thought he didn’t know what he was doing, he knew one thing. He’ll never be like his parents. His father, manipulative and a gas-lighter. His mother ignored it and was just focused on her public image instead.

*“Chin up, baby.” His mother whispered down to him. “Play your little piano and smile.”*

*His mother’s tone was sweet, and caring. But Louis wasn’t stupid. He knew his family milked his skills during fancy business parties like these ones. But, he played the piano nonetheless, because this was the only time he could truly feel like he had an audience that enjoyed his talent, his dream.*

*“My son! Ladies and gentlemen!” Louis’ father widened his arms towards Louis playing the piano. Families of prestigious wealth clapped for him. In this moment it was bitter sweet, should he feel happy that people enjoyed his music, or should he feel angry that his parents only supported him if it benefited them? Louis brushed off the confusing feelings and instead put his emotions into his music, making it authentic and oddly charming.*

*“Beautiful, Mandisa.” A woman patted his mothers shoulder. “You’ve raised a wonderful son.”*

Louis slightly groaned in irritation. ‘*They raised a horrible kid.’* Louis thought to himself. Now that he was older, he realized that he shouldn’t have beat himself up as much as he did when he was 17. Guilt had always occupied his mind when he thought about what he did, how he broke up his parents. But in reality, they raised him like that. They raised him to think of yourself first, not others. Survival of the fittest.

*“Please, I have a family William!”*

*Louis sat on the couch with his mother, they were just chatting when they heard the commotion coming from the office room. His father opened the door and held his hand out. “You’re not needed anymore, Mark.”*

*“I-I’m not needed?! Are you serious!? I helped you start this business, what the fuck man?!”*

*“But- Mark. You seem to forget. People like me. People like my beautiful ‘exotic’ wife, people love my son. What do you have Mark? A regular housewife, who’s pregnant and unattractive? A son who doesn’t excel in school? He doesn’t even have a talent to show off. You’re dragging me down. You understand, don’t you?”*

*“Excuse me?! The fuck did you-” Mark gulped as a security guard walked up behind him. “Fine.” Mark muttered.*

*The guard escorted the man out. Louis’ father looked at Louis with a smile, as if he didn’t just ruin someone’s life. “See son,” he started. “-sometimes, we have to make the hard decisions to get what we desire. It’s just business. Nothing personal.”*

Business came first, passion and feelings came last. That way of life ruined his childhood. He believed from a young age hurting others to get what he wanted was ok.

He gently stroked Willows head, *‘I’ll never teach you that.’* He thought to himself. No matter what, he’ll always make sure she knew it was ok to express herself, to talk about her feelings. He wanted her to know that no matter the situation, she was loved and *accepted.*

“I promise.” He whispered. “I promise I’ll give you a better life than mine.”

Suddenly, he felt slender arms wrap around his neck, a semi-heavy weight on his shoulders. He smiled, hearing Clementine mumble something out of exhaustion.

“What was that, darling?” Louis asked, holding her forearm.

“You’re doing great.” She yawned. “You don’t have to keep worrying Louis. You love her and that’s—“

“The bare minimum, Clem.” Louis cut her off.

“-not really. Not anymore.” Clementine said sadly. “Even back then, dads used to run out on their kids, unable to either provide a stable life or love. You could’ve ran out so many times, so many opportunities and you didn’t.”

“Why would I ever do that?” Louis replied, almost offended.

“I’ve seen it happen before. Of course I knew you wouldn’t but…there’s always that lingering exit you can take, and the urge is probably there for you-“

“Clementine.” Louis said sternly, waking her up a little. “I would *never* do that. Do you really think that?”

Clementine stayed quiet. In reality, no. Of course she knew Louis would never leave. It was just her inner insecurities popping out, she’d hidden it for years but it came out eventually. The *constant* fear that she would be alone again lingered in her mind. Louis noticed her silence and sighed. He got off his chair, and then hugged her tightly.

“Isn’t it crazy?” Louis chuckled.

“What?”

“How we only started dating a month into knowing each other.” Louis started, caressing her arm a bit. “Now, we’re in a family together. Clementine, I didn’t fight a war with you, fell for you in the middle of it, wrote songs about you, spent literally almost every second with you for the past 4 years to just leave.” Louis reassured.

“But now we have a kid.”

“Even more of a reason to stay. I mean *who* can actually say they have a kid with the most beautiful, bad-ass woman of the apocalypse world? Only me! I’d be a fool to run from that.” Louis joked.

She shook her head, a big smile on her face. Louis kissed the top of her head, pushing her slightly towards the bed, there he dropped her on it. She got into a comfortable position, and Louis lay next to her.

“I was serious.” Clementine broke the silence. “When I said you’re doing great. It’s not only the love you have for her Louis. You don’t even go to sleep before she does. Even though I tell you I got it. You care deeply for her and that *is* enough.”

Louis sighed, twiddling his fingers with one another, only staring at the bars above him. “I know. Thanks. Sometimes it just feels like I’m not enough, even before Willow.”

“Louis…” Clementine muttered sadly. The thought of him degrading himself saddened her. She sat up, grabbing his curious glance. Clementine took off her oversized sweater, a tank-top underneath. There was enough moon-light to see the faint, pink branded mark on her arm. She slid her fingers over it slightly, a grimace appearing on her face.

“You finally gonna reveal the meaning behind that?” Louis chuckled, over the years, she’d always refuse. ‘*The past doesn’t matter.’* She’d say.

Although he was joking, she wasn’t.

“I got this when I was 13.” Clementine started.

Louis shifted himself upwards, a frown shown on his face as he eyed the scar.

“I only did it to make sure AJ was safe. But, then he got ripped apart from me in the same group. After that, I had nothing more to lose. And when you have nothing to lose…you do scary, stupid things. I was horrible, Louis. I wasn’t the same person you know today.”

Louis nodded, taking in her words to the best of his ability. Trying not to react negatively in anyway.

“After I got AJ back—I only had *him.* If anyone ever—and I mean, *anyone* tried anything to hurt or kill him, I wouldn’t hold back. Yes I love AJ. I really do, but that feeling of hopelessness for your own self is so damaging.” Clementine opened up. After a brief moment of silence she continued. “I didn’t have hope for my own life, only for his. I didn’t mind if I got bit, as long as he was safe, I didn’t care. Not because I was sad or anything but because I just felt like this world wasn't for me. When I was a kid, I loved to be social, playful even. I've changed so much, I was forced to. I used to be innocent. Now, I'm finally getting some sort of my old self back."

Clementine grabbed Louis’ hand and squeezed it slightly. “You saved me.” She said, her tone hoarse. Louis squeezed back on her hand.

"I'm glad to be of service." He smiled at her. “I love you.”

She smiled, and kissed his cheek. “I love you too, Louis.”

#twdg #clouis #telltale the walking dead #clemxlouis #clou #telltales the walking dead #twd #twdclem #twdg s4 #fanfic

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quickspinner · 4 years

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Snake in the Silk

Written for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Challenge, using the @mlweeklyprompts Next Door Neighbors. The fic is supposed to be 45 minutes plus "editing," but I kind of doubled the length in editing, so...oops.

I received a lot of prompts for my 500 follower celebration that I never used (although I did end up writing a surprising number of them eventually, when I looked at the list), and I was sharing them with the sprint server as possible future prompts. One of them involved Luka getting an exotic pet, which collided with the neighbors thing in my brain, and thus this fic was born.

As always the irrepressible Dingo King belongs to Verfound, who's kind enough to let me use him.

Rated T, mostly for innuendo and language

Find it on AO3

“I hate you,” Luka fumed, keeping the phone pressed to his face as he kicked his door shut behind him. “I hate you so much right now.”

“Not true,” Dingo said cheerfully over the phone.

“I’m serious, you jackass, I can’t trust you with anything!” Luka threw his bag in the corner with probably more force than he should have, and then winced. He set his guitar case down more carefully.

“Also not true,” Dingo said, a little sheepishly this time. “Buuuuuuut I’ll grant that maybe you shouldn’t have trusted me with this.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Luka snapped as he stomped through his apartment. “Juleka was with me, and Evan’s a freaking pansy, and—” Luka stopped dead and sighed as he stared at the empty cabinet—the cabinet he had personally, carefully refurbished and remodeled to be as escape-proof as possible. Not that any of that did any good, with the door sitting ajar. Luka swore and only barely resisted the urge to kick something. “If anything happens to him,” Luka warned his best friend, “I will murder you, do you hear me?”

“Fair,” Dingo sighed. “Look, Lu, I seriously am sorry, and I would never have left except I had to work, and as soon as I can find an excuse to bail I’ll—”

“No,” Luka gritted out. “No, it won’t matter if you’re here or not. Don’t lose your job over it. I’ll figure something out.”

“It’ll work out, Lu. That stupid snake adores you, he won’t stay gone for long.”

Luka made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and grit his teeth around the things he wanted to say. “I gotta go,” he finally managed to grind out. “I’ll deal with you later.”

“Right.” Dingo laughed nervously. “I’ll bring takeout and beer and then we’ll turn your place upside down looking for the little bugger.”

Luka hung up without saying anything else, and jammed his phone in his pocket. He put his face in his hands and screamed quietly, then dragged his hands down his face and surveyed the empty enclosure again—as if Sass were just going to show up and slither right up his favorite branch and flick his tongue out like ‘Sup .

Okay, he needed to think. It wasn’t the first time Sass had taken a little pleasure jaunt. Think. How many places could a four-foot corn snake find to hide in a small apartment like this? Luka didn’t even have that much stuff, so he shouldn’t be that hard to find.

If he was even still in the apartment. Luka swallowed hard. That had never been much of a worry on the Liberty, since while there were about a billion little crannies that a snake could crawl into, most of them were unpleasant for a cold-blooded reptile, and at least he couldn’t escape the ship entirely. But here, who knew? And this was the first time he’d escaped since Luka had moved into the apartment, so Luka didn’t know what his favorite places were likely to be, and—

And standing here panicking was not doing anything to find his beloved pet. For all that Sass was a little shit of an escape artist, Luka had raised him for years and he loved the quirky little snake and his stupid little snakey face with those bright black eyes and—

“Come on, Sass,” Luka muttered, looking around helplessly. “Don’t do this to me.”

Okay. First things first. Luka swung the front of the cabinet open wide, so that if Sass did decide he preferred his (very comfortable, Luka thought with a little pout, he had done a lot of work to make sure it was) home to whatever random, dusty corner he’d managed to find, he could get back in. Probably if nothing else, Sass would come back when he was hungry, if…

Luka sighed, and took Sass’s little pool out of the bottom of the enclosure to dump it out and refill it with fresh water. He made sure the heating mat was at the right temperature, and checked under the substrate and poked around among the various hides—damnit, he’d worked so hard to make this habitat, and that stupid, ungrateful little—

A muffled but clearly audible scream broke into his thoughts, and Luka froze. There was a second, yelping shriek— from the apartment next door, he suddenly realized, and he ran for his apartment door, knocking over his guitar case in his haste to get it opened.

He’d barely had time to turn from his door to the next door down when it burst open and a young woman stumbled out of it, eyes wide in panic. She collided with Luka and he grabbed her arms on instinct.

“Are you okay?” he asked stupidly, as she looked up at him.

“I—there was—” she panted, clearly still panicked. “A snake in my panties!”

Luka stared at her for a moment, uncomprehending as he took in big blue eyes, pink cheeks, and a soft mouth that was opening and closing without saying anything, and then she balled her hands into fists and closed her eyes and shrieked, “There’s a huge snake in my underwear drawer!”

Understanding hit him like a lightning bolt. “Oh thank God,” Luka sighed, and the young woman gaped at him as he moved her aside and went into her apartment.

“Wait, what are you—” she spluttered. “Where are you going? Hey!”

Luka halted about four steps into the apartment, abruptly realizing that he didn’t know where he was going, and she crashed into his back in her rush to follow him.

“Sorry,” Luka said, turning and holding his hands up placatingly. “Sorry, it’s just—my friend was watching my flat, and he let my pet snake out and I’ve been frantic to—find...him…” It struck him all at once that the young woman currently staring at him had wet black hair hanging around her shoulders, and a red and black polka-dotted silk robe wrapped haphazardly around her very nice body. It was still sticking to her in places and he suddenly felt like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth.

“That thing is yours?” she demanded, pushing her wet hair back and gripping her robe more tightly closed with the other hand. “I don’t know whether I’m mad at you or just relieved the whole building isn’t...infested or something.” She looked around nervously. “So there’s no more? Just the one?”

“No,” Luka laughed, burying the fingers of one hand in his hair. “No, no, no infestation, just one irresponsible best friend and my freaking Houdini-wanna-be pet snake. I’m so, so sorry he scared you, but if you show me where he is, I’ll get him out of here and you can get—uh, get on with your day, um….Miss.”

“Marinette,” she sighed, tugging the robe around herself a little self-consciously, her cheeks turning an attractive pink. Shit, she was cute, and this was really awkward. Ugh, Luka was going to kill Dingo, and maybe Sass too for good measure.

“Luka,” he said, offering his hand. “I live next door and I promise I don’t let my snake out all willy-nilly.”

Marinette snorted and covered her mouth with one hand as Luka blinked at her, feeling his face slowly turning red. “I can’t believe I just said that,” he muttered under his breath, and Marinette laughed aloud.

“Come on,” she giggled. “This way. Um, watch your step...I’m still getting unpacked and all and...okay that’s a lie, it’s always this messy, but it’s organized, I swear—”

“Hey, I’m not gonna judge your housekeeping choices, trust me,” Luka told her absently as he followed her down the short hall. “I don’t think I’m in any position to judge you at all, given the situation. Even if I did that kind of thing. Judge people, I mean. I—I don’t, or I try not to, at least—” He paused and took a deep breath, trying not to let it out as a frustrated sigh.

Marinette pushed open a door and edged into the room—her bedroom, it was immediately obvious. She stayed pressed up against the wall. “It’s, um, over there,” she said, pointing to a pink and black chest of drawers, the top drawer of which was hanging open. “I just opened the drawer and there it was and I—” She fluttered her hands.

Luka went over to the drawer and surveyed the contents. “I don’t see him,” he sighed.

“What?” Marinette’s voice jumped several octaves.

“It’s okay, he probably just—” Luka reached out, and stopped just before he touched anything, hand hovering over the rumpled pile of silk and lace in the drawer. “Uh…” Luka looked back at Marinette. “I mean, do you mind if I…” he gestured weekly at the drawer full of underthings. “See if he’s underneath this stuff?”

“Oh,” Marinette blushed again, but waved a dismissive hand, shifting nervously. “Go ahead. Do what you need to do. I just want you to find it.” She cracked a small smile. “Thanks for checking, though.”

“Sure,” Luka grunted, carefully lifting a pair of lace edge panties from the top of what had probably been a neat pile before Sass decided to rummage it into a nest. He shifted things aside carefully, trying not to look too hard at any of it. “Come on, you little shit,” he muttered. “You’re killing me here.”

“Um, could you actually, uh...maybe hand me a pair of those?” Marinette said, and Luka glanced back at her in some surprise. She was still pressed back against the wall and her face was red again, and she was clutching her robe tight around her, fingering her wet hair as she fidgeted— oh .

“Oh, yeah, uh...any particular...color?” he asked weakly. She seemed like the kind of girl who liked to match. Which was such a weird thing to be thinking right now. He was definitely going to kill Dingo. Slowly . Maybe feed important bits of him to Sass before he murdered his beloved pet, too.

“Anything’s fine,” Marinette replied, with a slightly hysterical sounding laugh.

Luka lifted another pair, trying not to think too hard about which pair he grabbed and what it might say about him. He tossed the panties to her, and then quickly turned back to the drawer.

“I’m just gonna step outside for a minute,” Marinette muttered, and Luka swallowed as he heard her bare feet pad away.

“This is the weirdest fucking day,” he muttered under his breath, carefully moving more underthings aside and trying not too hard to think about what other kinds of things a lady might keep in her underwear drawer. Ugh, why did the damn drawer have to be so deep—wait, was that—

Luka picked up a distractingly pretty blue pair decorated with black ribbons, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the familiar tip of Sass’s tail sticking out. “Got you, you little shit.”

“You found him?” Marinette said behind him, and Luka jumped. She was wearing shorts and a t-shirt now, and she’d pulled her wet hair back into a ponytail. She stood on tiptoe to look around him, though she still kept back behind him.

“Yeah, now I just have to get around to his head and get him out without spooking him,” Luka said, reaching into the drawer again. “The last thing I want is him musking all over your things because I grabbed him too quickly and startled him.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know what that means, but it sounds gross.”

“Trust me, it is,” Luka said, removing another pair of Marinette’s underwear and adding it to the pile he’d been making on top of the dresser. “I am really, really sorry about this. I shouldn’t have trusted Ding—my friend. He’s got a good heart but he’s a little loose on details.” In the drawer, Sass shifted, and lifted his head, tongue flicking out curiously, a pair of teal, scale-patterned panties draped over his head. Luka bit back a laugh. “Hey, buddy,” he murmured, moving his fingers near Sass. Sass’s tongue flickered once, and then again, scenting, and then he moved forward, sliding out from under the pile of panties to glide onto Luka’s hand. “There we go.” Luka brought his other hand forward to move under Sass’s body, and finally, carefully, lifted the pile of snake out of Marinette’s underwear drawer. Far from looking stressed, Sass seemed as relaxed and laid back as ever, gathering his nearly four-foot length into Luka’s hands like nothing was amiss. It kind of made Luka want to shake him, but that would have been really dumb, so he didn’t. He sighed with relief instead, feeling his shoulders go slack as Sass poked his head up towards Luka’s elbow.

“I wasn’t imagining it,” Marinette murmured, keeping behind him, but still leaning on his arm to peep curiously around him at Sass. “He really was that big.”

“He’s pretty near his full growth,” Luka agreed, and lifted Sass up to eye level. “Which is why I built you that nice, big habitat and made it so comfortable, so that you had room to be you. I can’t believe you just bailed on it.” Sass swayed forward, bumping his snout against Luka’s face. “Yeah, it’s me, you little dummy.”

“Does he bite?” Marinette asked, and Luka snorted softly, moving his hands to keep the snake supported as Sass began to slither up his arm.

“Not usually. Sometimes he bites me just to make a point, but not enough to hurt,” Luka told her, “For the most part he’s well socialized, and friendly. Really, he’s harmless to anything much bigger than a rat. I promise, you were never in any danger from him. I’m sorry he gave you such a scare, though.”

“Can I...can I touch him?” Marinette asked, as Sass slithered across Luka’s shoulder and extended his head out a bit, tongue flickering. Luka grinned at her.

“Yeah, sure. Here, let’s just...” He backed up a step and sat down on the edge of Marinette’s bed, then reached up and took Sass off his shoulders to gather him between his hands again. Apparently no longer inclined to stay put after his little panty-nest nap, Sass began to slide up his arm again as Marinette set down next to him. She reached out a tentative finger to stroke Sass’s body as the snake moved up towards Luka’s shoulder. “Oooh, that’s so weird,” she said, but she was grinning, and Luka chuckled.

“I’ve had him since he was a baby about the size of my hand,” Luka told her, closing one eye as Sass poked his snout into Luka’s cheek. “I was freaking out, thinking that I’d lost him. I’m sorry we interrupted your day, but I’m grateful you found him, and didn’t hurt him.”

“Hurt him ,” Marinette laughed. “ He just about gave me a heart attack. I just moved in, you know, and—well, I’d seen a mouse a couple of times so I was already a bit jumpy, and then I saw that and suddenly I was sure the whole place was crawling with pests. Which was maybe a dumb thing to think, but I...it’s my first time living on my own and I guess I’m a little paranoid.” She shrank a little, reaching up to tug at her still-dripping ponytail.

“I don’t think there’s any reasonable reaction to finding a snake in your...er, unmentionables.” Luka coughed as Marinette snickered.

“Unmentionables,” she snickered. “You sound like an old man.”

Luka laughed with her, only a little self-consciously. “I, um... don’t think you’re going to have a mouse problem anymore,” he commented, stroking a swollen place in Sass’s belly. “I guess that’s why Sass ended up here. He probably smelled it.”

Marinette eyed the lump in Sass’s otherwise sleek form with a conflicted expression, but she only sighed.

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve been here a few months and I haven’t had any pest problems,” Luka continued.

“I don’t guess you would,” Marinette laughed, looking at Sass. “They can probably smell him and stay away. Maybe I should borrow him sometimes.”

“Well, clearly I could use a better babysitter,” Luka chuckled. “So if you’re interested, we can definitely work something out.” He turned his head to look at Sass, who was draped along his shoulders again. “No more hunting, though. That mouse could have messed you up, you little jerk.”

Sass yawned, tongue flickering, and then stuck his head down the collar of Luka’s shirt. Luka rolled his eyes. “I should let you get back to your day,” he said, standing up. “And I should get this guy back into his cage.” Sass slid further into Luka’s shirt, and then reversed course, his head peeping back out. “What are you even doing right now?” Luka asked him. “Missing your heat rock?”

Marinette giggled. “He’s kind of cute, actually. He’s very pretty, with those markings...wait, is that him?” She caught the edge of Luka’s sleeve, lifting it slightly to reveal the top of the tattoo on his upper arm.

“Yeah,” Luka grinned, shifting so she could see it better. “I love that one. They made him look amazing.”

“They really did,” Marinette said admiringly, and then her eyes widened slightly and she dropped his sleeve, moving back as her face reddened. “Um, sorry.”

“No worries,” Luka chuckled. She was really adorable, and sweet when she wasn’t screaming. She’d certainly warmed up to Sass quick enough, too, so he gave her points for courage and open-mindedness.

“Well, it was very nice to meet you, Sass,” Marinette said to the snake, bending down slightly to be eye to eye with him. “Next time I’d appreciate it if you’d wait for an invitation, though.”

Sass slid up and away from Luka, stretching out toward Marinette as if planning to explore her shoulders next, but Luka put a hand under him and lifted away. “None of that, Casanova,” he told the snake, redirecting Sass back to his own shoulder. “Let’s get you home.”

Marinette walked them to the door, and when she opened it, Luka paused on the doorstep. “Um, thanks again for being so understanding,” he said, trying not to stare at her too intently. “I’m glad to have met you, Marinette. If you ever need anything, well.” He gestured vaguely. “I’m right next door, and I owe you.”

Marinette smiled at him, pink tinging her cheeks, and his stomach did a little flip. “Thanks, Luka. I’m glad to meet you too. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Luka smiled back, and then practically fled back to his own door. “See you.”

She gave him a little wave before closing her door, and he was grinning widely when he opened his own.

He took Sass straight back to his enclosure, and Sass eagerly slid from his hands, beelining for his favorite warming spot. “I’m really mad at you,” Luka told him. “I was worried. I’m definitely still killing Dingo.” He couldn’t keep his face stern, though, a smile twitching his mouth. “I might owe you big time, though. That was a hell of an icebreaker.” Luka sighed, and shut the enclosure, making sure it was securely latched.

He went back to the door where he’d dumped his bags, and picked up his guitar case, leaving the suitcases where they were for now. He got out his guitar and settled down on the couch with a sigh.

He lost track of how long he’d sat there, playing a soft tune that reminded him of blue eyes and giggles and silk. When his phone buzzed in his pocket and brought him back to himself, he could see sunset colors through the window.

“Oi, mate,” Dingo said when Luka picked up the phone. “I finally escaped—ooh, poor choice of words...I mean I’m off work now. I’ll grab some takeout and meet you at your place so we can—”

“I found him,” Luka interrupted, wincing a little. He probably should have texted Dingo hours ago to let him know.

Oh well, the bastard deserved it.

“You did?” Dingo repeated, obviously relieved. “Yes. Good. Okay. Welp, cancel that then—”

“Oh, no,” Luka interrupted him. “You’re not getting out of bringing me dinner. I still need to kick your ass.”

“Not exactly incentivizing, mate.” Dingo sighed. “You want your usual?’

“Actually,” Luka said, thinking fast. “I’ll text you my order in a minute.” He hung up before Dingo could protest, stuck his phone in his pocket, and went out the front door.

“This is stupid,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his palms on his jeans before he knocked on Marinette’s door.

She opened the door and her curious expression morphed into a smile. “Luka.” She was fully dressed now and made up to boot, and just as cute as he remembered.

“Hey,” he managed to get out, and hoped his smile didn’t look too manic. “Um, my asshole best friend is bringing me takeout to make up for being a dummy, and I’d really like to buy you dinner to make up for earlier.”

“Oh,” Marinette’s expression shifted into uncertainty, and she bit her lip. “I’d hate to intrude…”

“If you’d rather, I can just bring your food over when it gets here,” Luka offered. “But you definitely wouldn’t be intruding, I’d love for you to join us. Totally your call, though. You don’t even have to decide now. Do you like Thai?” He pulled out his phone to show her the menu.

“I love Thai,” she admitted shyly, taking the phone he offered her. “Um...but you really don’t have to…”

“I want to,” he told her sincerely, and the smile she turned up at him made his heart rate kick up a few beats.

“Okay,” she said, and he nearly stopped breathing as she pulled up his contacts. “How about I just add my number and you can text me when he gets here, and...I’ll come over for a little bit, if you guys really don’t mind.”

“Y-yes, yeah, definitely, go ahead,” he said quickly.

Smiling to herself, Marinette did just that, and then sent herself a text before she handed him back the phone. “I’ll text you my order, it’s a little complicated,” she told him, “and then I guess I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Yeah,” Luka smiled at her. “Looking forward to it. I’ll text you in a bit.”

He managed to make it back into his own apartment without cracking, and then he had a (very quiet, since she was still next door) freakout in his living room as he texted Dingo both of their orders and hit send. He found himself in front of Sass’s cage, trying to slow his pulse with some deep breathing. Sass was looking right through the glass at him, and if Luka didn’t know better, he’d have thought the little bastard looked smug.

“I’m still mad at you,” Luka insisted, but the grin splitting his face probably wasn’t very convincing. “Don’t look at me like that.” He sighed. “Dingo’s never going to let me hear the end of this. If she’ll even speak to me ever again after she meets him.”

Well. That was a problem for future Luka. Present Luka just got the number for the hot girl next door, and she thought his snake was cute, and—

“Yeah, this dinner with Dingo is going to be a disaster,” he laughed helplessly, flinging himself down on the couch.

#quickspins #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #neighbors au #meet-cute #i'll never not know you #a single spark #quickfic

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zenrayne · 3 years

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Learn presence for negative thoughts and emotions

This can be applied to any feeling. I’ve tried this with my anxiety, depression, dpdr (depersonalization/derealization), CPTSD, PTSD, anxiety attacks.

there’s always a reason as to why you feel the way you feel. Some event in your life made you where you would be seen by someone else as being “irrational” if something remotely related to that initial stressful event would happen again. So technically our body isn’t being irrational, but trying to protect us. Even though we understand at that irrational moment nothing is actually happening that should be making us be feeling this way—even if it’s ridiculous and isn’t connected to any type of event prior—it is still happening. The fact our body is reacting to it and is feeling overwhelmed we shouldn’t feel that we are being irrational but be gentle with ourselves like a parent soothes their child.

I’ve started validating how I was feeling and accepting that something triggered me even if I don’t know what it was and/or just an over exaggeration. Because If you tell yourself “I’m overreacting I’m just being irrational why can’t I just be calm like everyone else”, this completely gaslights yourself (denies your own reality). In essence our body freaks out more because instinctually this does feel like a reason to be anxious to our body. When I validate I accept that this is happening even if I think it’s wrong and I shouldn’t be feeling this. I validate and accept that this is how I’m feeling even if it’s from something small.

Then I dive into the feeling. This part feels very impossible to do if you’ve never done it before but trust me the fear of facing/feeling fully the fear is greater than actually feeling it. Over time the more we deny our feelings and thoughts, we become more and more disconnected with ourself. It becomes hard to enjoy life fully and numbs out a part of us we actually really need to pay attention to. Our negative emotion is a direct path to finding how to make us feel better. It’s like a symptom from a cold, you have to first accept that you have symptoms of an illness to then be able to diagnose and then treat that sickness. You have to first accept you are having this emotion to be able to find the root of the problem and to then come up with a plan to “fix” the problem.

When I first validated and dived into my anxiety I very quickly felt calmer. It was the first time I was ever actually present with myself and I’ve been having panic attacks since I was almost 5 from abuse. It took me awhile though so what I’m saying here is it isn’t easy at all. In fact if you believe you can’t do this by yourself do this with a therapist or a family member or friend that understands you and what you’re going through. When I first did it I had been crying and hyperventilating for over an hour then suddenly I remembered something I read about being present with yourself through hard moments. Then I just decided to try it, because what the hell I already am losing my shit why not try something different for once. So I validated myself and made myself open to feel whatever it was that felt like it was going to burst in my chest. I closed my eyes and I heard silence, my rushing thoughts had stopped, the room had stopped spinning, and I felt better.

Not every time does this happen. One time I did this and instead of feeling relief I actually felt the pain inside of me first. It was so painful! I have no idea how else to describe it but it was so much grief it felt like the pain of losing your soulmate and your family type of grief. When I opened myself up I allowed however much time I needed. So I felt this pain for 40+ minutes; just ugly sobbing on the floor in my kitchen. I was trying my best to let me handle this situation naturally without forcing myself to do anything or to feel anything. I just wanted to let my emotions flow through and out of me. At one point I naturally felt the urge to accept whatever upset me. I accepted that it happened and I decided to use the rain to grow and not to be drowned anymore by it. So .. I hugged myself. I hugged myself and kept saying “it’s okay. There is a reason why I’m feeling this and it’s okay. I’m here now with you (myself) I’m here. I’m not leaving this time.” I said this to myself 7x before I calmed down. A few times after this event I did the same method again but I didn’t have to cry so much to feel better. But another time after I had cried a bit more. Based on how big the situation is impacting you depends on how long you need to sit with yourself to do this process. I’m sure in my future I will have to sit with myself for days, months probably years before I can accept and let go so I can form a plan to move forward. And this is completely fine if you feel this is you.

So I learned that telling yourself you shouldn’t feel the way you feel, and think the way you think is the biggest form of self betrayal you could ever do. So with the example of anxiety: when I read a ton of times people saying facing your fears will help you overcome it I would get pissed off because obviously in my mind they didn’t understand anxiety especially anxiety disorders. What I learned though is that phrase can be looked at another way: it’s not always literally facing your fear physically, but facing the fear mentally.

For people with anxiety disorders it can take a couple to a whole bunch of times to get past that one fear. Which is why exposure therapy works so well for anxiety disorders: it’s the only time you ever have to purposely try to be in that moment with the fear, to be with yourself in that moment. Where overtime the fear gets less and less. Our body isn’t scared of the actual fear most of the time, it’s usually scared of what we think will be the outcome of that fear based on an experience or hearing something bad happening to someone else. It’s all in the mind and that’s the first place you should learn to be present with when all you want to do is run or disappear from whatever’s causing the anxiety. What’s the first thing a regular parent does when seeing their child upset? They sit with them. Then they tell them it’s okay to feel the way they do: giving them permission to feel. And then they give advice to move forward. This process should be done with every relationship we have with others and ourself.

All of this can be applied to any emotion good or bad. I say good because some people find it hard to accept happiness. The first step is to validate your feelings! Accept that this is happening and it was caused by something big or small or nothing at all and that’s fine. Working towards moving on would to be to be more open to future happiness.

You can take this model of validating, accepting, letting go/moving forward, and transform your entire life. being present with your own thoughts, feelings, emotions has to be done first and only then can you work forward to heal, grow, or let go.

My advice is to do this when you’re in a crisis and can’t reach any help. Do this when you have a very strong emotion that you find yourself to be pushing against. You can do this actually whenever you want. You can start off with small emotions and work your way up. For DPDR (depersonalization/derealization) do this whenever you want. DPDR is an intense form of disconnection that causes dissociation. Learning to be present with any emotion will help you to over time become more and more connected with yourself. If you find yourself really hesitant to do this, that’s perfectly fine. Just know that the more hesitant you are the more you know in the future you need to attempt this process. The more hesitant you are the more intense the emotion is from past self rejection: your body can become so disconnected from continuous self rejection that your subconscious doesn’t trust you to stay present and therefore will make it harder for you to access that part of yourself. This can be done by creating extreme fear and panic the closer you get to feeling. This can be done by blocking a memory you can’t access. Theres lots of ways your mind can block or distract you from reaching a memory or feeling that was too painful for your past self to handle. This is done out of protection for that part of you and for yourself as well, so both parts within you don’t have to confront whatever is causing your intense emotion. This is why I strongly suggest doing this under the guidance of a therapist whether in session or not.

☀️💛 Good luck stay safe beautiful angels 💛☀️

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superbataddicted · 3 years

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Writer’s Month 2021 - Day 4 - Play

(Clark and Bruce’s first meeting - what if it isn’t Lois but Bruce who investigated Clark first? Based on Man of Steel (2013).)

Clark flew down the pavement, his legs pedalling furiously. His bag, slung sideways, bounced crazily against his back and his tie flapped a mad dance past his face.

Gosh, he was so late!

Grimacing, Clark pedalled even faster. His bicycle raced down an incline, adroitly swerving round a couple and the man yelled curses, a fist raised at him.

“Sorry!”

Clark yelled back, conscience twinging. He hadn’t want to take the bike but his earlier antics had left him without a choice. His saving of a cat, fallen off the tracks, had resulted in a torn jacket and him missing the train into downtown. Not wanting to look a mess on his first day of work, Clark had then dashed home to change his clothes and was now racing to get to the Daily Planet on time.

He could have flown, using his superpowers. But Metropolis was new to him and he had yet to figure the city out. Caution. That was what Pa had drilled into him so until he knew where the safe spots were, Clark didn’t want any risks. He was so looking forward to this new phase in his life and it wouldn’t do to have his secret identity exposed.

Clark Kent, the reporter. He grinned, excited and anticipatory. Then a quick look at his watch had him in a panic. Five minutes left!

Veering round a corner and frightening the wits out of four kids, Clark caught sight of the Daily Planet – its signature globe perched on the top. Almost there, just one more street to cross. Heaving a sigh of relief, Clark knew that he could make it.

Unfortunately, as he was about to zip across what was an empty street, Clark heard the roar of an engine and s sleek sports car shot past at him. With a shocked yell, he hauled his bicycle up, body twisting to avoid the car. Instinct caused him to tap on his super strength and the bicycle rose up like a horse rearing on hind legs. Clark fell on its back and his loosened grip sent the bicycle sailing over him, upside down and wheels still spinning. The front hit the pavement, somersaulting the bicycle before the whole vehicle crashed into the railing. Clark heard the crack of metal breaking and his heart sank. His new bicycle was definitely wrecked.

Thankfully, no one was near him to suffer any collateral damage. There were a few passers-by on the other side but upon seeing that Clark was pretty much intact, they continued their way, looks of sympathy in their eyes.

Clark, a hand grasping his arm as if it was hurt, shakily got onto his feet. It was just an act – a necessity to hide the fact that he was actually invulnerable and therefore, uninjured. His eyes, though, were seething with anger as he glared at the culprit who had just got out of his car.

Sauntering towards him with designer glasses hiding his face and hands tucked into tailored pants, Clark detested him immediately. There was not an ounce of apologetic vibe as the man came to a halt before him. His uppity you’re-not-worth-my-time stare, snapped something within Clark.

“Shouldn’t you apologise!”

“Shouldn’t you have watched where you’re going?”

Clark clenched his fist, the urge to do some damage, extremely strong. But the voice of his Ma in his head, stayed his hand. It was not worth it, like his Ma said, to sully his hands on such a load of horseshit.

Turning away, Clark was about to ‘limp’ to his bicycle when the man called out, voice haughty.

“Wait.”

The man drew out his wallet and took out a name card. He then flipped it at Clark and it hit Clark’s chest before dropping to the ground.

“I’ll pay for the damages. Just send me the cost and my secretary will handle.”

With that, the man slipped back into his Mercedes and sped off. Clark was boiling mad as he picked up his damaged bicycle. He was about to ‘limp’ to the Daily Planet, the card be damned, when he changed his mind.

“Bruce Wayne, is it?”

Clark pocketed the card he had just picked up, a feral gleam in his eyes. He had to test out anyway – using his superpowers while living in a city. So might as well start with this asshole then. He wouldn’t do anything drastic (his Ma would kill him). He just wanted to wreck his car just like what happened to his bicycle. An eye for an eye – isn’t that what they say?

“Must you be that obnoxious?”

Alfred’s voice came through the wireless earbud tucked in Bruce’s right ear.

“I was merely getting his attention.”

“A ‘hello’ and ‘may I get to know you’ will have worked equally fine. That is what people normally do, Master Bruce.”

“Then we won’t get to see what we saw, right. No human could have pulled that off, Alfred. They will have just fallen sideways and not do that. He is definitely not what he seems to be.”

“Then you are playing a very dangerous game, Master Bruce. If he is truly as you have discovered, he can crush you without effort.”

“It’s a risk I have to take,” Bruce shrugged as he weaved his way through traffic, heading back to Gotham, “Metropolis’ too close to Gotham and if he’s going to settle there, I need to be prepared.”

“You should know as well that he hasn’t done anything to warrant such mistrust. In fact, all he has done is recuse those in need.”

“What about the impaled truck?” Bruce argued, expertly manoeuvring his car through the narrow gap of two semi-trailers, “Doesn’t look very recusing to me.”

“But the woman’s story…”

“Speculative and no evidence to prove that there’s a connection. He could have done it for other reasons too.”

There was a momentarily silence before Alfred retorted in exasperation.

“Master Bruce, sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith.”

“Faith!” Bruce snorted, making a turn to enter the highway leading out of Metropolis, “I’m not going to bank the safety of Gotham on such deluded bullshit. That’s akin to committing suicide.”

A burst of static signalled that Alfred had cut off their communications. Bruce snatched the earbud and threw it onto the passenger seat. Alfred was probably stalking out of the Batcave, extremely upset.

Well, who asked him to ask him to do the impossible.

Bruce do no believe in faith and he definitely do no one believe that someone with that much power would be that good. He had to keep an eye on this so-called Clark Kent. He had to know before anything goes awry.

(For more Superbat Writer’s Month 2021 - Go to Masterlist.)

#writersmonth2021 #superbat #clark kent x bruce wayne #superman x batman #writer: batzmaru 65 #first meetings

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years

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Drive By ~ Reggie (part 2)

A/n: This part’s Discord link! I want to clarify this time that the discord server is actually run by @httpnxtt ! So bless her for giving us a place to SCREAM (as we so often do!) Also I wrote this listening to “Lover Man” by Ricky Montgomery and this HEAVILY follows that song so feel free to listen to it to enhanse the experience!

Word Count: 7400+

Warnings: OKay so listen this part could potentially be super triggering so READ THIS PLEASE!!!! Grief (blaming yourself, anger, depression, etc), trauma reaction to arguing/yelling, trauma reaction to assumed physical abuse, implied minors having past sexual experiences, internalized homophobia, people discriminate against soulmates in this au, implied domestic disputes, rejection. I... think that’s it I’m so sorry if I’ve forgotten something.

MASTERLIST

Reggie really hated soulmates.

He liked seeing other people and their soulmates, and he loved talking about soulmates with other people. It's just, if he'd had the choice, he wished more than anything that he could have just... not had one himself. He'd rather just be one of those odd people who never manifested a soulmate connection; that would be so, so much better if this is what having a soulmate meant for him.

Now, Reggie didn't always feel this way. When he was younger he used to listen to people talk about their soulmates all the time and dream of a future when he got his. His parents had been one of those people who strongly believed that soulmates were a bad thing, and had been open and proud that they weren't soulmates. Maybe seeing them argue all the time had been the basis of his love for soulmates, and his drive to find his.

If only he could tell his young self that life isn't that simple. There's no magical cure to loneliness, and soulmates aren't all they're cracked up to be. Not for him. Nothing ever was, for him.

"Reg?"

The bassist looked over, eyes wide as his name was called. "Yeah?"

Alex was the one looking at him, concern creasing his features. "You seem really distracted today. You alright?"

In all honesty, he absolutely wasn't. Ever since they'd been forcefully brought back into the land of the living as ghosts, and now they were trying to make a band again and Alex had found his soulmate and the world was so crazy different and Luke was acting weird like he ALWAYS did when soulmates were involved and Reggie was really overwhelmed.

"Yeah," he answered anyway. Thinking about soulmates makes him finally make a decision he's been trying to avoid for a few days now. "I'm a little restless. I think I'm going to go on a walk. Take a page out of your book." He smiles and stands up, and Alex nods.

Luke looked over. Reggie should have known Luke would have known that Reggie didn't like walks like Alex did. "Do you want company?"

"No," Reggie answered immediately. It came off less as desperate and more insistent though, so he didn't stress about how fast he'd said it. Usually he'd love to have Luke around, but he couldn't for what he wanted to do. Especially because he knew the only reason Luke wanted to go along is because the last time one of them went on a walk they came back with a soulmate mark, and he didn't want Luke to be all over him and protective. He couldn't deal with that right now. Luke's face fell though and Reggie added, "I just need some space you know?" His voice was soft this time, and Luke nodded after a second, a small smile on his face.

With that, Reggie poofed out of the garage and was outside, turning away to begin walking down the road.

The sun was going down before he found what he'd been looking for. He'd had to sneak around and peak where he probably shouldn't of, but he had to know. Fine, it was creepy. He wasn't proud. But he... he HAD to know.

It was his snooping that had brought him to the graveyard.

Walking through the yard looking at every single head stone searching for the one name he was most afraid to see but knew he eventually would, Reggie realized that in all of the things that he had imagined when he'd thought about tracking down a certain someone from his past every single outcome possible made him just as sick as this did.

Finally he came across the grave he was looking for. At the top was a name. Y/n's name. Reggie sat on the dirt, legs crossed, hands in his lap. As he looked at the grave, he felt the top right corner of his chest itch. The spot just below his collar bone. His hand itched to touch it, but he wasn't like Luke. He didn't give into urges. He was too afraid if he touched it enough times people would realized the real reason he never wanted to change in front of anyone else.

His eyes closed and he sighed. He leaned forward, resting his forehead on the gravestone. "I remember the night you left. The hours Luke spent crying when his soulmate mark turned grey. I remember Alex holding him so tightly and calming him down. How I had to..." He swallowed. "I had to be quiet about how much it hurt me too." He sat back, his eyes opening again as he looked at the year on the tombstone. He reached out, his fingers grazing over the year Y/n had died. "You died the same year we did. I wonder how it happened. How many months were you around that we weren't? What-" His voice choked with emotion. "Did you hear about us? What happened? Did you even care?" His voice was soft and it faded, his hands raising to rub at his face. Finally, Reggie shook his head and moved to his feet. He bent down to touch the top of the stone. "I'm sorry for how things happened all those years ago." And then he turned away and he left, and he didn't look back.

"You should ask him out."

Reggie jumped and his eyes whipped around. When had Y/n gotten to the studio? "Oh hey." He tried to smile and laugh the comment off, but his fear at being caught red handed made his stomach twist and both the sound and the expression he made were contorted with awkwardness.

Y/n rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall next to Reggie. "Listen I might be gay, but I'm not stupid." He grinned. "Luke. Talk to him."

Without meaning to, Reggie looked back at Luke. He was talking to Alex and Bobby about the newest song he'd written and how he wanted it to sound. Alex had asked about what the song was about and it had set Luke off for half an hour. Reggie hadn't taken his eyes off of the lead singer since the conversation had started. When talking about music and things he was passionate about in general, Luke was so... beautiful? That really was the word for it. He wouldn't have done it if he hadn't been sure no one was looking... he'd forgotten Y/n was coming over today. Even then, how did the dude just walk in without alerting a single other person in the room?

Reggie cleared his throat and looked away from Luke. At least it was Y/n. He didn't have to hide from Y/n. In the small time he'd been going out with Luke, Y/n had been the most amazing person Reggie had ever met. He was so warm and welcoming. He made Reggie feel safe, like every time he was around Reggie was coming home. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced since his parents had ruined the feeling of safety and belonging in his house, and since his feelings for Luke had made everything so weird for him in the studio. Both places had lots of good feelings and memories and got so very close, but it was Y/n that really drove it home, if you will. Because of this, when Reggie spoke, it was with defeat and not denial. "I can't."

"Why not?" Y/n asked.

Looking over at Y/n with an odd expression, Reggie felt himself get really confused. Was this one of those times he had missed something that was obvious to most people, or was that as weird as it felt? "You just learned I have feelings for your boyfriend and you want me to act on them?"

A soft, low laugh rumbled and Reggie felt himself smile despite himself. "He's not my boyfriend." Something between a grimace and a bittersweet smile rested on Y/n's lips, and slowly the sweet part of it was fading away. "He made that very clear." Reggie went to defend Luke but Y/n just held up a hand. "I know. I understand, I really do. Soulmates are like a huge taboo, and it doesn't help that we're both dudes. Trust me, I know how bad it can ruin your life when people find out you're not straight."

Reggie thought about Alex. "Most of us do," he said without thinking.

Y/n just nodded, not pressing Reggie for more information. Y/n was really good about reading people like that. Knowing what to say and when to say it. It was as if he could feel the spike of panic that Reggie had felt a second after saying what he had. "And I understand that too. I don't BLAME him. I'm not MAD at him. It just sucks. I mean, your parents don't know we're friends. None of your fans know I even exist. I mean Bobby and Alex are IN the band and they only found out about us like a week ago. We've been seeing each other for a month and a half." He scoffed. "I hate feeling like a secret. Like... he's ashamed of me. Like I'm sort of dirty pleasure. The way people look at porn." He rolled his eyes. "Honestly he's lucky he's worth it." This was said with more humor, and Reggie was relieved to feel the dark mood begin to slip away. "I have plenty of people who'd be very public about being in love with me." Then he winked at Reggie.

Without knowing why, Reggie's face went warm and his heartbeat picked up. It was the exact same thing that had happened when Luke made eye contact with him while they were singing, or when they got too close while sharing the mic and their shoulders or legs brushed. That moment of intense adrenaline when it was suffocatingly hot and Reggie's blood was rushing and then the guy he'd been crushing on for years looked at him and made him feel like he was the only person in the room. Reggie had always been so relieved that Luke could only do that during performances, when Reggie had something else to focus on immediately. When he had to be professional, and not when they were alone and he couldn't hold himself back from kissing Luke if given the chance.

How could Y/n make him feel like that now? They were just sitting here!

"If you're sad he won't publically be with you, then-"

"Because you two can have a relationship in public. People have seen you perform and no one blinks at it. Not at the way you look at each other, or how fine you are with invading each others' space. It's just written off as bandmates stuff. You probably share a room, or have known each other very long. Unless you kissed on stage no one would even care. Only the other gays would know and what are they gonna do, judge you?" He snickered and Reggie had to admit it made him smile. "You both have good reputations. It's as fair for me to be hidden as it is for him to hide me. He hates it - I can tell. He wants to go on actual dates or just been seen in public together. He wants to tell the girls that flirt with him to back off because he's taken. But he can't." Y/n sighed.

"And you think I can give him that?" Reggie asked. Y/n looked over, obviously surprised by the tint of humor in Reggie's voice. The bassist found it hilarious that all these things seemed to be a continuation of why Y/n wanted Reggie to give asking Luke out a shot... but then something clicked in his head and his smile dropped dead in exchange for wide eyes that matched Y/n's. "You think he likes me back." It was deadpan, opposite to the torrent of emotion inside of him.

Y/n scoffed. "Well YES, but... Reggie between us, you're the closest he's ever gonna get to a real relationship. The kind he wants, at least."

Reggie wasn't having that though. "Y/n he's head over heels for you. I didn't even think there was any room in that head of his FOR romance until he and Alex went out, and even then... I mean they broke up for a reason. Sometimes I feel like the only reason he-" Reggie snapped his mouth shut, eyes darting away as he realized what he was about to say.

By the look on Y/n's face, he got the feeling eh didn't actually have to say it. Y/n just nodded. "He only wants to be with me because we're soulmates." Reggie shrunk. "It's fine, I think so too. That's why I don't think I would mind if he did date someone else, along with whatever we have. As long as the person he decides to be with is okay with it. I don't know, I really like Luke and I really like us. I just feel like he deserves better sometimes, you know?"

The thing was, Reggie didn't know. He had never seen Luke as happy as he was with Y/n. He had meant that he only thought they had started dating because of the whole soulmates thing - Luke wouldn't still be with Y/n if the boy wasn't important to him. Luke looked at Y/n the same way he looked when he talked about music. But Reggie didn't know how to say that, so what he said instead was, "You matter a lot to him." It was quiet for a second before he added, "I don't think there are many people who make him as happy as you do. Even if you're just... here."

Y/n looked at his hands. "He told me about when he was a kid, and he'd check his body for any mark or name or phrase or anything. He told me about his parents had been missing s color before they met, and how they'd only told him when he was older and could keep a secret, but how they didn't want Luke to run away from potential great love because he turned away from his soulmate like so many do. They filled his head with so many hopes and dreams and... the way he looked at me that night. Without knowing anything about me, he looked at me like I was the reason the stars were in the sky. Sometimes I think that's all it is. That we share this mark, and the universe looked at me and whispered to him, 'that one'. He wouldn't have chosen me otherwise."

"He wouldn't have," Reggie agreed honestly. "But he has now, and I think it would kill him to lose you." Y/n went to argue, but this time it was Reggie who shook his head, cutting off whatever was about to be said. "I'm serious. You two are special. Don't diminish that."

After a second, Y/n's body relaxed and he smiled, nodding. "Thanks Reg." Reggie nodded and then they both looked at Luke, who was wrapping up whatever he was talking about, as Bobby wanted to get back to practicing. "I still think you should ask him out."

Reggie shoved Y/n off the couch at that, and both of their laughter finally brought the attention of Luke, who immediately ended the conversation by coming over and being within ear shot. Which meant Y/n had the last word.

This time.

"You're touching it again." Alex's eyes shot up to see Reggie's amused smile. He had gotten into the same habit Luke did; whenever he was nervous, his thumb would reach out to brush over the inked on words on his wrist. "What's bugging you?"

Alex sighed. "I'm just ALWAYS thinking about him, you know? Like I-" His face suddenly went very red. "I don't know, this feel so different to any relationship I've ever had. And maybe that's because the only other person I really dated was Luke, but-" He shrugged.

Understanding completely, Reggie nodded. "I get it. It must be nice, to have that. Do you think he feels the same?"

The blush got worse. "I... yeah." He cleared his throat and Reggie tried not to laugh. "We've been hanging out a lot and he's been answering a lot of questions. It's still not like anything serious - we're still getting to know each other, and we're both letting this take us where we want to go. Like, it's slower than it was with Luke, but faster than Flynn and Julie explained the pace of their relationship."

That made Reggie snort. "To be fair, it took YEARS for those two to do anything about their soulmate stuff."

"Yeah but they met super young," Alex reminded. Reggie nodded - that was a fair point. "Once they talked about what the soulmate thing between them meant, they took like a few months to figure it out. It's been like a week for us and I already feel like I've known him for years." He rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes kept flickering around the studio, and Reggie felt his stomach twist painfully as he realized what Alex was doing.

He was looking for Luke.

The last time they'd discussed soulmates, Julie had asked Luke about Y/n and it had gotten... awkward.

Reggie interlaced his fingers together to stop himself from suddenly scratching the intense itch he felt over that stupid, stupid mark on his chest. He couldn't stop thinking about it, but he refused to give himself away. He'd managed to hide it from his closest friends for an entire year - he wasn't going to trip up now. "Man, I'm happy for you. You deserve this. Not just the soulmate thing, but the way you talk about Willie makes me so happy for you." Reggie grinned despite himself. "I wish I could see you two together more."

Alex loosened up, his own smile growing. "Don't you listen to me talk about him enough without having to see me be an idiot in person?"

Reggie laughed. "You know I would love to see you be HAPPY," he stressed, raising his eyebrows. He always corrected his friends when they dished on themselves. "What you guys have is special."

Alex tilted his head. "You know, I always wondered what it would be like for you to get a soulmate. I bet you'd be even more a disaster than me."

Reggie had to remind himself that he was dead and didn't have a heartbeat, because he was sure he'd had a heart attack when Alex had said that. Once again, the urge to touch that damn mark was strong and he clenched his hands into fists so tightly his knuckles went white. "Yeah I've always wondered too." He cleared his throat. "That won't get you out of talking to me about Willie though. Come on, I have questions!"

The distraction worked... For now. He hoped it would keep working just a little longer.

Luke had fallen asleep hours ago, curled up with Y/n on the couch in the studio. His breathing was even and low and soft and it was almost enough to help Reggie go to sleep too. Only almost though, because Reggie was REALLY distracted by the way he looked with his hair falling in his face and his cheeks squished as he lay his head on Y/n's chest. He was even more distracted by the thought of being like that with Luke and feeling guilty because the more he thought about it, the smugger Y/n got and the smugger Y/n got, the more Reggie thought about it. It was a cycle and he was slowly going absolutely insane - the entire time, Y/n wore a knowing smile and barely held back from busting up laughing at him.

It was no different now.

"You're ridiculous," Y/n sighed softly.

"Shut up," Reggie complained, his eyes closing. It wasn't so much an order as it was a whine, and Y/n had to force himself not to giggle. Laughing would move his chest and wake up Luke, and the boy desperately needed sleep.

Y/n sighed. "I don't know why you don't just ask him out." This time Reggie groaned, but still kept it soft as not to disturb Luke. Bobby and Alex had gone home hours ago, and the three of them had stayed to talk, but Luke had fallen asleep so that Y/n was pinned. The problem was he couldn't get comfortable as he sat in the middle of the couch, leaving him nothing to lean against and fall asleep on. Y/n had invited Reggie to sit next to him and be Y/n's pillow, but the bassist didn't think he could handle that AND Luke without combusting.

Pulling his thoughts away from thinking about Y/n sleeping on him - because for some reason, that was so much harder to deal with than imagining Luke doing it, in the sense that it made his heart want to explode and his head feel fuzzy and his skin tingle and that terrified him in a way he could not explain - Reggie moved his gaze toward the roof before saying, "It wouldn't work out."

There was some shuffling and Reggie looked back to see Y/n very slowly, skillfully maneuvering Luke in a way that didn't wake the brunette as Y/n slipped out from underneath him. Luke complained in the form of sleepy, incoherent mumbles and scrunching up his face for a few seconds, but was otherwise undisturbed. Reggie was astounded. Luke was a light sleeper, so the feat alone was amazing... but also, if Y/n could do that the whole time why hadn't he done it much earlier instead of asking Reggie to join the sleep train?

While he was busy being surprised, Y/n settled in a new spot, next to Reggie. He reached out, his hand cupping Reggie's cheek to gently bring the boys' eyes to a meeting point. Reggie felt his throat clog up and swallowed to force down the lump attempting to choke him. "Reggie," Y/n asked in a soft voice, eyes earnest and wide. "Why don't you think you deserve love?"

Reggie was speechless. How could Y/n have POSSIBLY known that? "I didn't say-"

Y/n shook his head. "You didn't have to. But that's not important. Don't start lying to me now." Y/n was very close and Reggie could not summon a single helpful thought in all of the possible workings of his human mind. He HAD many thoughts, but not a SINGLE one of them included him thinking straight and it was immediately an intense struggle. "Reggie, you are so amazing," Y/n whispered, and the raspy touch in his voice made Reggie die a little bit inside. "You're so kind and warm and soft, like as a person. You feel so much and have so much compassion and care so much about people. I don't know what you think it is that has you so convinced you don't deserve EVERYTHING the world has to offer and more, but I promise you that everyone who matters? Alex, me and Bobby, and YES, even Luke - we all see how incredible you are. Please tell me you can see it too, even just a little bit.

A good swallow finally dislodged the lump in his throat, and Reggie found his voice. "Y/n..." He shook his head, and Y/n's hands fell to his shoulders. "I just feel... different than everyone else. I'm..." He couldn't find words. "It's not that I don't think I deserve happiness. I just feel like I'm not ever going to find it. Not like you and Luke. I don't think that's part of what's going to be in my future. I feel like I'm missing something important sometimes. Something other people just have, and are born with. Like a really key part of a puzzle?" He shrugged, turning his head away.

"Oh Reggie," Y/n whispered in that same soft tone that spoke volumes of softness and fondness. "How could you think you need anything other than what you already have, when what you have is so amazing and special?" Reggie looked over as Y/n's left hand shifted Reggie's collar to touch his skin at the top right of Reggie's chest with his palm. Y/n's fingertips grazed Reggie's neck. "Do you feel that, Reg? Your heart..." Reggie realized why Y/n had moved his shirt - to feel his heartbeat. "You bleed kindness. You have always, I think. From what I've seen, and what I've heard, you're surrounded by hardship and hate and struggle, and somehow you came out of all of it with a heart gushing with love. I don't care what you think you're missing. You have THIS, and that is ALL you need. YOU are enough, Reginald. You are all anyone ever needs."

Reggie felt an... odd sensation. A warmth that spread through his body, from where Y/n touched him. At first he thought it was just that the words had touched him so much, but as the warmth faded, there was something left behind. A tingly buzzing sensation, right where Y/n's palm touched Reggie's chest.

Eyes widening, Y/n moved his hand away. It was only then they both realized it was the same hand he had touched Luke with for the first time. The same hand that had the Rose tattoo. The one that matched the one on Luke's shoulder. The shape that marked the two boys soulmates. The mark which before had been only one outline of a rose... but was now two roses, crossed over each other. Identical, but facing opposite directions. Their stems curled the same way, the tilt was the same, but they faced opposite directions, ending up crossing each other.

"Oh my god," Y/n whispered. His eyes moved to Reggie's chest, which was still slightly exposed. His eyes went wide, his face draining of color.

A sort of panic suddenly flooding him, Reggie shot to his feet and flew to the bathroom. He tugged down the color of his shirt, looking in the mirror. To his horror, where Y/n's hand had touched his skin was the detailed drawing of a rose without any color. The same mark that had been on Y/n's palm and Luke's shoulder since they had met. Their soulmate mark.

His eyes caught motion and he looked over to see a suddenly shy Y/n in the doorway. "So," the teen edged, tension in his shoulders and hesitation in his eyes. "I guess this means we're soulmates too. How fun is that?"

"I guess I failed on that whole not coming back thing." Reggie was sat on the dirt plot in front of Y/n's gravestone again, shaking his head at himself. "I promised last time was my last time. Did the same thing the time before that." Reggie could feel his heart ache and his stomach tie into knots so tight that they gave him a stomach ache. His eyes watered as he looked at the name on the stone, blurring the words as he felt his heart scream in his chest. He put his face in his hands, slowly moving his fingers so they wound into his hair. "I miss you so much." He was crying, his body shaking violently as he tried to hold it in and failed. "God I'm so sorry Y/n. I'm so sorry I ran from you back then. That I pushed you away and ignored you. You were the only person that knew. The only person I could talk to about this."

For a second he cut off, and he really cried. He cried and cried until his throat was sore and his body felt painful from how tight it was wound. He knew the pain wouldn't last. Physical pain never did now that he was a ghost. It didn't change the fact that his very soul ACHED. He felt like he was missing something important. Something irreplaceable. Something precious. And it was all his own fault.

When his voice returned, it was watery and weak. His words were torn and broken with hiccups and stuttering. He was absolutely miserable. "Y-you said- I tried to- and you just-" He pulled on his hair, suddenly ripping his hands away from the strands to angrily wipe at the stupid tears that wouldn't let him talk. He NEEDED to talk. He had to get out what he was feeling and make sense of all of the thoughts in his head.

He had gone through denial the first time he'd come here. He'd thought it was some sort of conclusion. A letting go of the past, to know that Y/n was gone. It was supposed to be an answer to a question. He was supposed to be relieved to know what happened. He was supposed to just find out where Y/n had ended up and then be fine with it. He had even visited the second time only to give a proper goodbye, and that was when it had hit him.

Y/n was gone. He hadn't grown up. He hadn't found happiness. He hadn't experienced a world accepting of him. He hadn't found someone else and been happy and safe like he deserved. The pain that thought brought him was more overwhelming than the realization that Reggie himself had suffered the same fate. More sharp than even Alex or Luke suffering the same fate, because at least the three of them had each other. They had Julie and the band, and they had skipped right to the good parts and missed all the bad parts where people fought tooth and nail for the world they had now. But Y/n had only ever had Sunset Curve. He didn't have anyone else that cared about him. He had died, probably alone and miserable, feeling rejected by the two people he felt for the most, and probably forgotten by the two friends he had. The only four people that had been kind to Y/n in a very long had all shut him out and in his last moments, he had no one to turn to.

The third time Reggie came to visit, the pain had been replaced by guilt. He had spent nights awake thinking about all the times Y/n had begged Reggie to tell Luke about the rose. About Reggie being their soulmate too. Y/n had spent weeks and weeks trying to get them all on the same level. Trying to work it out. But Reggie had rejected him. Had run from him, the same way Reggie had been run from. He hadn't helped when Y/n had needed it as things turned south with Luke. He hadn't helped when Luke had come to him looking for advice after the fight with Y/n. He had told Luke to forget about it, and now Luke hated soulmates and Y/n had died alone and it was all Reggie's fault. If he had just been braver. A better friend. A better soulmate...

His fourth time at the grave, all he felt was anger. Anger at himself. Anger at Luke and Y/n for fighting. Anger at these stupid soulmate marks. Anger at the world that had raised him for seventeen years to hate the best parts of himself. To fear the way he loved, and the people he loved. He was angry at the nightmares and the pain and the worry and the stress that had been so needless. Why couldn't men be in love with each other? Because it wasn't how people had loved each other in public? Because it was new? Because it was different? Why were soulmates so terrible? Well that one he knew. Soulmates had been such taboo then because it was one less thing people could control. One less part of peoples' lives that could be locked down and forced around. A power stronger than any law. An energy that fueled hope. Hope, an emotion stronger than even fear if grown and bolstered. And that's what soulmates did, right? Encouraged people to think differently. See more. Try something new. Soulmates could be two men, or two girls, or a man and a woman. It could be anyone. Soulmates didn't gender code like society wanted them too, so obviously they were evil. Julie had gone off about it one day and you know what she was right! It was bullshit!

It was the fifth time Reggie had come with pleading eyes and begging and pleading. He had sat in front of that stupid gravestone and tried not to cry as he prayed to whoever might be listening. As he talked to thin air. As he picked up fistfuls of dirt and chucked them at the gravestone and demanded a second chance. He had screamed and kicked it and almost fallen on his face when he went through the stone. The fifth time Reggie had lost his mind, and he had spent hours trying to just get the chance to say sorry. To tell Y/n all the things he'd been wanting to tell him for so long. All he wanted was five minutes. Didn't he at least deserve that?!

Now Reggie had no other emotions left. He didn't have denial to lean on, or anger or desperation or anything else. He had used up every emotion he could think of - even jealousy for a while, as he listened to stories about Julie and Flynn or Willie and Alex. He had used one after the other until he was left stripped bare and emptied out. And now as he sat there, he cried and cried until the sadness was gone too and the tears all ran out. And then he just sat there and stared at the grey stone that was always cold and always had Y/n's name on it and offered no help or love or reprieve or condolences or even a little mercy. He looked at the grey stone and he felt a sort of kinship with it. He felt his insides pulse with a dull ache, as if they were sore. It sat there, reminding him consistently that he just felt... hollow. Empty.

Numb.

His fingertips grazed over the words carved to make Y/n's name, and he thought of the time that Y/n had tried to touch Reggie's soulmate mark; something Y/n did to Luke to remind both of them that they were soulmates. He remembered the day Y/n had begged Reggie to realize what they were. To really know it and really FEEL it and Reggie... he had pushed Y/n's hand away and said something he'd regret the rest of his life, and even after that.

How could one hotdog take so much from him in one go?

It wasn't fair.

"Reggie..."

Immediately, Reggie felt his body tense. "Where's Luke?" was his reply.

With a careful tone, Y/n answered, "That's what I came to talk to you about." Reggie's body only grew more rigid, but that didn't stop him moving away with ease and much speed when he felt Y/n's fingers graze his shoulder. He had been doing that every single time Y/n touched him since... since... His hand twitched and he almost touched the mark he had been ignoring for weeks, but managed yet again not to. "Reg," Y/n whispered. His voice sounded so frail and weak. So desperate. It was enough to break Reggie down enough that he slowly turned around.

And then immediately regret it.

Y/n looked like he'd been wrung out and hung to dry up in the sun. His skin was a different color than usual, like he felt queasy or was sick. There were bags under his eyes, and a expression on his face that made Reggie's heart burn with a pain he wasn't prepared for. He looked like he had been crying instead of sleeping. "Y/n... what happened to you."

Immediately, Y/n's shoulders sagged. he looked so small and defeated that Reggie drew back even more. The very air around Y/n simmered with pain and ache. "I'm... trying to make this work. This thing with Luke and- and with you-"

"Don't include me in that," Reggie snapped. He hadn't meant it to come out so harsh, but his panic had gotten the better of him and he had sounded angry. Like he was accusing Y/n of something.

Y/n's vulnerability was crushed to dust, and his face hardened and his body began to shake every so slightly. Reggie felt the yelling coming before he could hear it, and immediately his head was full of night spent curled in bed, trying to sleep as he crushed his ears with pillows and blankets and even his own hands to try and make himself stop hearing the shouts down the hall.

Y/n never yelled. He hadn't yelled once.

Hearing him yell now was so terrible that Reggie was stunned into silence for a solid minute.

"GODDAMNIT REGGIE!" He shoot his hate, his face twisted and his hands curled into fists and for a terrible second he thought Y/n was going to hit him. And then he immediately didn't understand why, because Y/n forced his hands opened and the earnest desperation was back and despite his anger he was pleading, and in that moment Reggie realized what he should have known by now: Y/n would never hurt him. Y/n would never hurt ANYBODY. Reggie was the one causing pain, and it was to the softest, kindest person he had ever met. The person who felt more pain than anyone else Reggie knew, and who still refused to let it destroy him. When Y/n spoke again, Reggie felt terrible to hear how raw the words sounded. "I'm trying to make you understand. I- I-" His eyes watered and Reggie felt a part of him shatter. "I lo-"

"Don't you dare say it." It came out as a plead, soft and wet and corrupted by a primal fear that made Reggie feel sick to his stomach to hear.

Whatever Y/n had heard in those words, it had taken something vital from him. His face went slack and tears fell down his face. Slowly, one at a time. He just looked at Reggie like he'd been slapped, and Reggie wanted to run away but he was frozen in place. "Do you just not like me back? Is it just about Luke? Do you only-?"

"I don't like Luke," Reggie demanded, finding strength in his voice again.

"Yes you do!" Y/n insisted. "I KNOW you do Reggie! I know you do because I see the way your hands twitch when Luke is near you, like you're dying to touch him. I see the way you look at him when you think no one is paying attention. I know he keeps you awake on the nights you can't sleep, and I know he's been as close to home as you could get for years because you go to him every single time you're upset or lonely or unsure. You seek comfort in him when you're hurting and you look to him for direction when you're lost."

"Stop it," Reggie whispered, his fingers curling into claws, nails digging at his skin even through his jeans.

Y/n just kept going. "And I know he feels the same about you because he says your name like it's the most beautiful word he's ever said, and he touches you like it brings him peace, and he talks about you like your his favorite song, and he's driven so intensely to be close to you like you're a fire and he's freezing. I see the way he looks at you and if I had a penny for every time he mentioned your name when the two of us were hanging out alone, I wouldn't be-"

"STOP IT!" His hands flew up to cover his ears... but for some reason Y/n cringed away from him. It felt like a punch to the gut to realize that Y/n had the same reaction as Reggie's had earlier. Y/n had, for some reason, thought Reggie was going to hit him. A look of guilt crossed Y/n's face and Reggie knew exactly what he was thinking. Reggie would never do something like that.

Whatever Reggie had, Y/n had it too, and that somehow made it so much worse.

For a second, they just sat there in silence. But then Reggie lowered his hands, very slowly, and Y/n spoke. "Is it because of me? What I was before you guys met me? What I did?"

Reggie didn't have to ask what Y/n meant. He knew full well how Luke and Y/n had met, and what it had meant. He knew that Y/n was touchy about this topic. He knew that it was something that Y/n had stressed about for a long time until he'd learned that Luke didn't really care or think about that stuff. How much it had been a relief for Y/n to get away from a life full of people and relationships that only wanted one thing from him. How nice it had been for him to get a break from meaningless interactions and one night stands and phone numbers he never bothered to keep.

Reggie also knew this had NOTHING to do with that. Reggie didn't care about Y/n's past, or how other people saw him. He knew better. He knew Y/n had a person. However, upon being given any other reason than the truth, Reggie's instinct was to take it and run. However, he knew this was worth than the truth. And for a split second he had to switch gears from accepting the excuse to dismissing it. He had to take just a fraction of a second to shut that down in his head, despite what his first thought had been.

It created a moment of hesitation.

A moment Y/n took as an answer.

Even when Reggie finally stuttered out an, "Of course not!" Reggie knew it was too late. Y/n stepped away from him, his face crumbling. The air had been knocked out of Reggie's body as he scrambled for something to say. "It's not Y/n I swear."

Y/n looked him dead in the eye. "Then what is it?" Reggie's mouth snapped shut. "Please Reggie, give me one other reason that makes sense. Tell me that it's not that you see me the same way everyone else does. That you're not just a little bit disgusted with me, and that's why you HATE the idea that we're soulmates. Tell me why it makes you so angry to think of being with Luke, when you're so obviously into him, if it's not because not even a little part of you think he's tainted because he's been with me even if it's not... like THAT."

Reggie did the worst thing he could have ever done.

He stayed silent.

He was too petrified to give Y/n the answer that could fix all of this. The answer that could clear the air. Maybe Y/n could help. Maybe they could make everything better. Maybe...

Whatever he'd been thinking it didn't matter, because the words didn't come out of his mouth and then the door to the studio opened and Luke was standing there, looking between them with eyes full of concern and confusion as the poor boy watched the two most important people in his life argue. Y/n went to leave, grabbing his bag as he made his way out of the studio, and Reggie let him walk away thinking something so damaging and wrong. Something that would ruin everything - all because Reggie was a coward.

"Mommy! Mommy! The angel helped me!" Reggie didn't even process it properly. It wasn't important. It didn't pertain to him. Why would he make note of it?

How wrong he was thinking that.

His mind was so focused on Bobby who was now Trevor, who had stolen their music. Who had stolen everything closest to Luke and hurt the man Reggie would anything for. Reggie was on a war path. He couldn't think about anything else until he heard Luke distinctly whisper in the softest, shakiest voice, "Y/n?"

Reggie's head whipped around to look at Luke, only for the action to repeat again as he quickly followed Luke's gaze to see....

Unable to help himself, Reggie gasped.

There was Y/n, in the exact same condition he'd been in the night he'd stormed out after arguing for Luke. That night was branded in Reggie's mind - he was sure Y/n was even wearing the same outfit. No... Y/n had never worn white while he was alive. Why was he decked head to toe in white?

The angel helped me! That was what the little girl had said. Had she been talking about Y/n? He saw the little girl, being pulled along by her mother, and that was when Reggie realized the child could SEE Y/n. In surprise, Reggie looked back at Y/n, and as if feeling his eyes, Y/n looked back at the same time. His eyes shot a mile wide, filling with even more hurt than had already been there just looking at Luke, who Reggie realized had been the target of his sad gaze before it had landed on him. The second their eyes met, Y/n was gone, disappearing in the same flash that he had seen Alex and Luke disappear in when they disappeared.

Luke fell to the knees, and Reggie felt the world crumble down with him.

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fanfic-she-wrote · 3 years

Text

Imagine being Sir Henry's younger sister and having a crush on Sherlock Holmes

It had only been a week since you had met the great Sherlock Holmes having arrived at Baskerville Hall the same time. You were surprised at his arrival. No one had informed you of the goings on at the manor and the supposed attempt at your brother, Henry's, life. Henry didn't want to alarm you, especially if it was over nothing. Typical older brother. Nevertheless, you appreciated Sherlock's presence all the same.

In fact, you had found yourself growing quite fond of the world's greatest detective. You found him utterly fascinating. Soon, you found that you had developed feelings for him. You tried to keep it a secret, but you could never keep anything from your brother. It had happened so suddenly that even you hadn't realized how deep your feelings were till you saw Sherlock limp into the manor after having just escaped the mines, his leg broken and bleeding profusely.

"It'll be fine." Sherlock assured you, noticing your concerned expression. "Just a scratch." He added waving it off, trying to make it appear as if it were nothing. You were already worried about your brother and now you had to worry about Sherlock as well.

After helping Watson mend Sherlock's leg and helping him to his room, you went to your own room hoping to relax for the remainder of the night when there was a knock on your door. "Come in."

Your brother entered the room, looking very chipper. "Hello!" He said.

"Hi! What's up?" You ask looking up at him from your chair by the window.

"The Stapletons have invited us for dinner." He told you. "I was hoping you would join us."

"I'm not really up to it tonight." You admitted. You didn't really like them. What Henry saw in that girl you didn't know. She was pretty, but very strange. And Mr. Stapleton had the personality of a rock. Not the kind of people you were interested in dining with.

"Mr. Holmes is invited as well." Henry said, hoping that would change your mind.

"Oh really?" You aske excitedly. He nodded, yes, in reply.

"Well, if Sherlock-Mr. Holmes is going, I guess I could." You said.

"Y/N, do you have feelings for Mr. Holmes?" Henry asked abruptly. You bit your lip, trying to surpress a blush that was slowly forming on your face.

"What? I...I don't know what you're talking about?" You deny, looking away.

Henry smirked. "I think you do."

You let out a sigh. "Is it that obvious?" You ask.

"Yes, unfortunately. If I was able to figure it out then surely Mr. Holmes has too." He pointed out. Oh no. The thought hadn't occured to you. Of course Sherlock would notice. He noticed everything. He must think you a complete fool.

"Do you plan on acting on those feelings?" Henry asked.

"I don't know...I would like to." You answered, fiddling with your necklace.

"But?"

"But he's Sherlock Holmes. He doesn't have relationships. At least not the one I would like." You told him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." Henry apologized, turning to leave the room.

"Henry! Do you think I'm crazy for liking him?" You ask, feeling unsure. He turned and faced you.

"No, I don't. I think you should at least try. It's better to be rejected than not knowing what could have been." You nodded. Perhaps he was right. Maybe, just maybe Sherlock felt the same about you.

After changing your clothes and preparing yourself for dinner with the Stapletons you walked to Sherlock's room, practicing your speech over in your head as you went.

You went to knock at his door when suddenly it burst open before you and your brother came storming out slamming it shut behind him. "What happened?" You asked.

"Nothing!" He snapped. "Don't bother coming for dinner. I'll go alone!" You watched him stunned, your mouth agape as he marched down the hall and disappeared. Shrugging it off you knocked on Sherlock's door, entering when you heard his voice telling you to come in. "What happened?" You ask again, feeling very confused.

"I just told him I'm not going to dine with him and the Stapletons." He answered, lighting up his pipe.

"Why?"

"I'm onto something. Today in the mine I found this." He began, picking up a bone and showing it to you. Now you were even more confused.

"That's when the mine collapsed. I believe it was a deliberate attempt on my life and I know who is behind it and the Baskerville legend." He informed you.

"Who?"

"The Stapletons." He answered. You gasped, pressing your hand to your mouth.

"I have to warn Henry!" You exclaimed turning to leave.

"No! Wait! Tonight I think Miss Stapleton is going to act and that's when we stop her."

"So you're using my brother as bait?!"

Watson placed his hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll be following them." He said, trying to calm you down.

"Yes, let's get going." Sherlock said getting up.

"Should you be moving with that leg?" You point out.

"We have no choice." He told you as he threw on his coat. You suddenly felt overwhelmed with worry. You could feel your chest start to hurt and you found it difficult to breath.

"Are you alright?" Watson asked, watching you.

"I'll be fine..." You lied. You couldn't bear it if something happened to your brother...or Sherlock.

Watson sat you down on the bed. "Stay here. Don't worry. Everything will be alright." He told you calmly.

"Be careful, please." You urged them as they started towards the door.

"We will."

You placed back and forth nervously waiting for them to return...if they returned. What if the Stapletons were successful? What if they came after you next? You started to feel that pain in your chest again. You tried taking some deep breaths, but it was no use. "I should have gone with them." You muttered to yourself as you looked out the window, hoping to see any sign of them. No. You would have been more of a hinderance than anything. You told yourself. You glanced at the clock. They had only been gone an hour, but to you it felt like an eternity. Was your brother still alive?

Finally, just when you couldn't take it anymore they returned. You gasped, when your eyes fell upon Henry as he entered the room. His clothes were torn apart and he had scratches and bite marks all over his body. So, the Baskerville Hound was real! It wasn't a legend. You rushed over to them.

"Henry!" You gasped. Sherlock walked over to you and pulled you aside.

"He'll be alright. Watson will take care of him." He assured you, sitting you down on the sofa. You watched as Watson helped your brother up the stairs.

"It's all over now. You don't have to worry anymore." He told you, holding your hand. You felt the ache in your chest ease slightly.

"I was so frightened." You admitted, holding back tears.

"I know. Everything is going to be ok now." He said in a soothing voice, noticing how tense you were. You took a deep breath, feeling yourself calming down a little. Sherlock hesitated for a moment, but reached out and pulled you close holding you in his arms. If you weren't having a panic attack, you would be enjoying this. You thought. He held you as long as you needed without complaint. The warmth of his embrace calmed you down and once you felt better you pulled away.

"Thank you Mr. Holmes." You said.

"Anytime." He said with a smile. How you loved it when he smiled. It made him practically irresistible. In fact... You leaned close to him and quickly placed a kiss on his cheek leaving him stunned.

"Oh um..." Watson coughed, feeling awkward as he entered the room. "You can go see your brother now."

"Oh. Thank you, Doctor Watson." You said, getting up and leaving without another word.

"What was that?" Watson asked Sherlock.

"She kissed me. Why did she do that?" He answered, staring at the door you just left through.

"Sherlock, the girl likes you." He pointed out, stuffing his hand in his pockets. How oblivious his friend could be.

"She does?"

"Yes, I think she's made that fairly obvious." He said.

"I never noticed." How did he miss it?

"Anyone who would sit and listen to you talk about different kinds of tobacco must fancy you." Watson remarked. "Now what are you going to do about it?" He asked.

"I don't know. What do you think I should do?" Sherlock asked, rubbing the back of his neck. He had never really been in this situation before.

"I think you should give her a chance. It'd be a refreshing change of pace after all this." Watson told him. Sherlock sat there for a moment, trying to decide what to do. He did rather enjoy your company, different than the way he enjoyed Watson's and you were very attractive.

"Well what are you waiting for?!" Watson exclaimed, pushing his friend out the door.

Sherlock walked down the hall going over everything in his head. Perhaps Watson just misinterpreted it. You just kissed him as a thank you for saving your brother that's all. He soon found himself outside Henry's room. He hesitated for a moment before raising his hand and just as he was about to knock, you came out.

"Oh, hi!" Sherlock said surprised. He looked over your shoulder and saw that Henry had fallen asleep.

"How's he doing?" He asked as you quietly shut the door.

"Shaken and tired, but I think he'll be fine." You answered. "What about you? You should be resting with that leg."

"Oh, I will. I just wanted to talk to you about something." He replied.

"It's about the kiss isn't it? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have." You apologized, looking down at your feet.

"No,no. I just wanted to let you know we'll be leaving for London tomorrow." He said.

"Oh, I see." You said in a low voice. He clearly wasn't interested in you. He was going to return to Baker Street and forget you. "I was hoping we might see each other again?" He said, holding your hand.

"Really?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Yes, I'd like to see you again."

You smiled at him, perking up. "I'd like that." You answered.

"Oh kiss her damn it!" You heard Watson call out from down the hall. You laughed.

"You must forgive Watson. He's not the most patient man." Sherlock said with a smirk.

"I must confess something to you, Mr. Holmes."

"Sherlock, please." He insisted.

"I'm not patient either." You playfully told him. He smiled, leaning down, and placed a kiss upon your tender lips.

"Better?" He asked.

"Much."

"Finally." You heard your brother sigh from inside his room.

You didn't know where this new relationship with Sherlock Holmes was going or if it was going to last, but you couldn't wait and you were going to enjoy every second of it.

#my first time writing sherlock #might be a bit oc #sorry #sherlock holmes x reader #peter cushing sherlock holmes #the hound of the baskervilles #peter cushing #hammer #x reader #reader insert

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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years

Note

loving the angst!! can we get cygate for the oxygen loss prompt?

Absolutely! I think I'll just start doing one character or couple per ask for this one, because I always make it so long and drawn out! As usual, links to previous posts for this prompt are below!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: You're Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Cygate

(Cyclonus/Tailgate/Reader)

·As the three of you have become inseparable, you're once again spending the day together in your shared quarters, in a basket style cuddle position that has the massive Cyclonus lying half on his side, the smaller Tailgate cradled in a mirror position, and teeny you in the little basket shaped space between them. From the berth it's a perfect way to watch something on the monitor together, or to just spend a lazy afternoon napping and talking, or to simply enjoy each other's company. You would suppose that's probably why it's a favorite activity for the three of you, but you don't care to do much thinking from your safe and secure spot between the two bots you love more than anything.

·You were all on the verge of drifting off when the lights unexpectedly flicker, a not too worrisome sight, that is until a number of other things start to glitch and go offline. With communications amongst the downed systems, there's no way to find out what's going on from where you are, so to the disappointment of everyone involved you all three decide you'll have to do some investigating. Tailgate hugs you tight before preparing to do just that, playfully saying he wants just a few more minutes to cuddle, nuzzling his helm against your head as he buzzes sleepily. How can he resist? You're so soft!

·Thankfully both he and Cyclonus have developed some quick reflexes, as the sudden rumble that shakes the ship nearly sends all three of you to the floor, and between Tailgate's secure hold on you whilst Cyclonus stabilizes you both you're saved from falling and/or being squished. There's little time to celebrate though. Cyclonus recognizes the signs of an enemy ambush, and Tailgate quickly puts together the system glitches as being related, meaning that you're all facing some serious trouble. Particularly the very squishy you.

·Cyclonus is armed in seconds, his demeanor one of focused contemplation as he tries to strategize despite a total lack of reconnaissance. Tailgate, still holding you, jumps in with confirmation that you have to be taken somewhere safe! The two of them will have to aid the defense, but you can't be left alone, so they'll need to find somewhere secure and guarded by lots of bots. Thankfully Cyclonus has an immediate solution; the medical bay. It has guards assigned to it in the event of an occasion like this, it's certainly fortified, and you'll be more than safe while they hold off enemy combatants.

·You never want to be left behind, but you concede that it's the logical choice, especially because you know Tailgate will refuse to hear any arguments against it. With your plan settled on, a path is decided next to save as much time as possible. Tailgate begins to buzz with worry as Cyclonus lays out the many potential ambush sites and choke points they need to avoid. Though he's the one holding you protectively, you give the minibot a gentle pat on his Autobrand, knowing very little of his anxiety is for his own wellbeing. The buzz of worry is starting to make your hair go static though...

·Cyclonus breaks his resolute guardian persona for a single instant once the path is decided upon, dropping to one knee so he can be closer to both of his much tinier partners. He looks to Tailgate and then you, reaching out with a clawed hand to gently cup your tiny face with a precision he's honed well these past few months. There's a single moment where all three of you seem to make the same wordless vow; I won't let anything happen to you. You're briefly hugged between the two of them to drive the point home, and when they part you see that between those two red optics and a bright blue visor there's enough dedication to make you certain they'd take on a Titan for you.

·You can't help but feed off their on edge energy when your room is left behind, though you have plenty of your own anxiety to keep you company. Nothing is responding, not even comms, so you're all running totally blind beyond what's right in front of you. There could be a full battalion of soldiers barreling your way, and you wouldn't know... Only being with the two bots you love more than anything keeps you calm. Tailgate isn't holding you especially tight, but there's an unrestrained kind of daring in his visor as it scans the hallways, like he's challenging anyone to just try and get to you. Cyclonus is similiarly inclined, but in his own way, the occasional glance of his optics in your direction so subtle each incidence could be mistaken for a trick of the light.

·It shouldn't have surprised you when there was trouble before the three of you had even passed the station of terminals about a third of the way to your goal. In fairness, they'd emerged from a hallway looking almost shocked to see a towering Cyclonus and a tiny Tailgate cradling you, so the group of hostile aliens obviously hadn't been expecting any resistance in this area either. You hadn't needed to prepare any defense of your own once their bullets started flying, as you'd been expertly tucked behind a corner by the minibot just as a greatsword had started lopping off limbs. With an emphatic "please stay!!" in your direction, Tailgate is right in the fray with his hubby.

·It's hard to think of danger while watching these two tear it to shreds. Their enemies are massive, hulking aliens armed for an invasion but they don't stand a chance against your partners, both of whom fight as if these brutes threatened you directly, which they likely would have if given the chance. Between the great arcs of a deadly blade and the powerful blows of two blurry fists, you can't help but be confident this won't be that long of a delay... You're a little giddy but not all too concerned about it when the universe decides to call you to task, something it seems to enjoy doing in moments set up for great irony.

·The alien that appeared so suddenly beside you could have killed you with its lazy swipe, but thankfully you're only sent sprawling in the hallway, your survival instincts kicking into overdrive once they realize the situation. You're overwhelmed by the urge to run, but your legs become more of a hindrance to this end than an aid. They're like sticks of lead beneath your teetering body, and you find yourself taking great gasps of air just to keep moving, unable to make yourself flee or feel as concerned about that fact as you should be. Something like a growl and a taunting chuckle comes just as the shadow you're certain will crush you comes barreling downwards.

·Death doesn't come. Not for you, anyway. There's a blur of purple and then you're just able to make out Cyclonus grappling with an equally titanic lifeform, the latter of whom struggles especially savagely, likely because they've been impaled on the former's horns and are certainly not about to be set free. Cyclonus is making the most of that fact, twisting and tearing with raw strength to punish his enemy for his transgressions against his tiny partner. Tailgate is right behind him, helping to ensure the little body he watched go tumbling is alright before moving you a safe distance with words of comfort. He doesn't wait for a reply before turning on the spot and hurling himself into the fray. Tiny fists deliver superpowered punches on his helpless target, and in his defensive rage he can't help but shout at the colossal bully for picking on someone so absolutely harmless to him, but he and Cyclonus leave little chance for a rebuttal.

·There's not much left of your attacker by the time you finally manage to get your legs beneath your body, save for the not insignificant bruises they gave you. Said injury hardly explains why you're incapacitated to this extent though; you're dizzy, shaking, out of breath, and your entire body feels heavy as could be. Before you can question the issue further, you're scooped up into frantic arms, your whole world turning blue and white with shades of purple as you're embraced with a high pitched exclamation of relief. Only your lack of enthusiasm gets the little mech to stop, and as you take hold of your spinning head the two faces looking down on you twist with worry.

·Cyclonus acts first, hurrying to the few still operating terminals and trying to see if he can get a systems report up, hoping that any kind of additional information might assist them. Just knowing where more enemies are could make sure you receive obviously critical medical attention sooner. Tailgate tries to get you talking; did that alien hurt you? If so, what hurts and where and how can they help? You try to answer, but it's getting rather difficult to take this seriously, especially while you're so carefully and securely cradled. Not even a small sound of concern from Cyclonus of all bots can get you to wake up completely.

·The next thing you know everything is in motion again. There's an explanation about atmospheric generators being offline and air being dumped from the ship, and a bit of panic regarding the speed at which oxygen concentration is dropping, then something about the medical bay having a storage of elemental oxygen... Truthfully, it's a little hard to follow with everything else going on. You can't help but be a little thankful though, how many people had two loving partners ready to tear aliens apart in their defense? It had taken so much for them to come together, and in addition to that miracle, they'd welcomed you into their sparks for the happiest days of your life... you couldn't believe your fortune sometimes.

·Tailgate is the one you can see most clearly for a time, his visor bright with panic and fear in a way you don't think you've seen before. There's very little time to think on it when suddenly he's being carried too, and you see Cyclonus come into view as he runs down the halls with Tailgate in his arms and you in his, the giant bot moving with such speed that you can feel air whistling past to stir your hair. It would have felt nice if not for the tears beginning to leak from your smaller partner's visor, and as you notice those you also begin to hear his faint encouragement for you to stay awake, his gentle voice breaking as obvious worry tears at his spark.

·Above all else you want to reassure him that you are awake! Seeing him upset just breaks your heart, so despite everything you're obviously willing to try, and that feeling doubles when you spare Cyclonus a glance and see fear in his optics. The sight makes little sense to you, especially with his bloodied horns making it clear that he shouldn't fear anything. Still, you try to stay awake for them both, but it's the hardest thing you've ever done. Between the bruise on your side and the creeping exhaustion you want nothing more than to sleep. Only the buzzing of a panicking minibot keeps you from slipping away now, but as the need grows you doubt it will be sufficient for long.

·A gentle servo cups your cheek to keep you looking upwards, and you grasp it on reflex. A warm and painless darkness is closing in on all sides, and you know sooner or later it will overpower you. All you can do is try to convey how sorry you are to those two worried faces you love so much, even if you don't really understand why you need to stay awake still. You never want to let them down. They're your everything, and you theirs, which is what makes you feel so guilty when your eyes finally close.

·Tailgate is on the verge of a panic attack when the little form he's cradling goes limp in his arms. He can still see breathing, but it's haggard and uneven, and he knows that's bad. All he can do is hold them tighter and pray as Cyclonus crosses the ship in what has to be record time, and though he says nothing the large mech is similiarly fraught with dread, his spark threatening to burn at the grief looming over him. He fought so hard to be with Tailgate, then the universe blessed them with you... would they truly be forced to suffer this loss together, so soon after receiving?

·The bots in the medical bay clear out fast when they see who's inbound, but thankfully the medics are quick even in the midst of a host of injuries, though the lack of communication has made everything chaotic to say the least. All they need to hear is "oxygen" and they're moving, commanding you to be laid on a berth while the necessary components are fetched, and the two fraught mechs are laying you down as commanded. Somehow the sight of you laying unconscious in the medical bay strikes both mechs in the spark, as if your little body on the gigantic slab just seems wrong. Cyclonus only holds his softly weeping partner as you're stabilized, and neither is much motivated to leave even when the battle is declared victorious, their intertwined fingers staying firmly together as they keep watch.

·You awaken to a gentle digit stroking your face, and just as you open your eyes there's movement and a familiar shade of blue fills your vision. Tears of relief from Tailgate patter against the medical bay in your private room, and so much comes flooding back when you realize there's an oxygen mask attached to your face, and that you're still more than a little sore. Cyclonus is softly asking if there's anything you need whilst Tailgate fusses over your blankets, and when you start to fully awaken you realize their residual fear is still holding on. Guiding their hands to you, it's hard not to shed a tear as you hear weak whispers of confessed fear, with both expressing the pain almost losing you made them face. You can only thank them for what they've done, and this spurs them both to reassure you it was worth every moment of struggle, just as love has always been. This odd but wonderful love the three of you share is proof of that every single day.

#transformers #more than meets the eye #mtmte #idw #lost light #maccadam #transformers headcanon #my writing #my asks #requests #anon #cygate #cyclonus #tailgate #cygate x reader #cyclonus x reader #tailgate x reader #human reader #self insert

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