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skulltrashart · 3 years ago

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Vamptember Day 8

Funeral / Movie / Unanswerable Questions Story Summary: An old knight returns home at long last and is forced to reconcile with his past. ((OC content, mentions of death and slight violence, existential dread :), ya know the typical sort associated with vampires. Really stretching on how to apply the word funeral here, but I’m gonna do it anyways.))

Vamptember Day 7 //

Cornwall, 2010

Near a thousand years had changed the lands he grew up on. There was practically nothing left of the stone that had once made up the keep or the fortifications. Restoration efforts had at least cleared away the encroaching wilderness and excavations had unearthed what very well could have been pieces of his own life. While he had hoped that there might be something left, to point out and tell his beloved that ‘this had been where this thing happened’ or ‘we used to do that there’, there was nothing. Bakari walked in silence beside him, arm wrapped through his own. He had been the one to urge him to return at all, as he regularly returned to Faiyum, his own home. To keep him grounded, he’d claim, but Godwine would have preferred not to stir up thoughts of what he had missed while he was gone in his self imposed exile. He remembered so clearly promising his young nieces and nephews that he’d return. He had promised the eldest of the boys, Cador and Madern, that he would train them to be proper knights and bring gifts for Lowenna and Rosewyn. In the absence of his own children, he had been a second father for his brother’s and he loved them as if they were his own. Cador had begged to go with him as a squire, but Godwine had refused. And while he never saw Cador, he had encountered Madern on the battlefield near Jerusalem some twenty years later. Grievously wounded and having been left for dead, his nephew had been delirious when he found him trying to drag himself away from the field while carrion birds circled overhead. It had been one of the few times, he had managed to fight the hunger that rose in him since his rebirth and he managed to help him get somewhere safe, somewhere he’d been found by other crusaders after wrapping his wounds as best he could. ((Madern would remember this, would recognize his uncle and return with stories that he’d encountered the spirit of his uncle, trapped still on the battlefield helping others that may suffer his own fate. Not knowing his uncle stalked those fields, driven mad by a hunger he didn’t understand for decades.)) “-my dear?” Bakari’s voice cut through the memory and shook him back to the present. “Sorry, I was...lost in thought,” he apologized and cleared his throat looking down at him. He tried his best to give a reassuring smile but it was forced and awkward. There was no way to fool someone who’d been at his side for centuries. “Clearly, you’ve stopped dead in your tracks. But it looks like their are headstones over there?” he pointed out into the gloom of night. The stones were worn with the ages, moss covered and any inscriptions were long lost. There were ropes and flags left by the archeological team, marking where each was clearly. “I don’t think the dig team has been able to identify anyone there with certainty. Records aren’t reliable this far back.” “I can make an educated guess.” He strode towards the site, trying to remember what it looked like previously, where the small chapel had stood in relation to the graves and if the foot path was the same as it had been then. While there was clearly more than previously, the stones were older the closer to the remnants of the chapel. He knew roughly where his family was to be buried, they had been barons of sorts, overseeing a plot land set aside for mining for the King. So a corner was aside for them to be kept close even in death.

He stopped when he felt chills up his spine, as someone had walked over his own. The headstones, if there had been any at all, were little more than mounds in the earth. Bakari joined him shortly after, tucking the phone away as memory seemed stronger than genealogical records this time.

It was surreal to stare down at them. To know one of those plots was most likely empty, meant for him. To know that his parents had passed, his brother, his nieces and nephews, their children and so on and he had outlived them all. He dropped to his knees as the weight of centuries struck him. It had been easy to ignore the fact they were gone when he had been miles away and he had never taken the time to mourn, to even acknowledge, that they were dead at all. He knew in his heart that when he returned, if he did at all, they would not be there to greet him, no celebration, no feast, no reunion. He had missed the passing of his mother and father, both had been frail already when he left, he had missed watching his brother’s brood of children grow, their laughter and smiles, teaching them, training them, cheering them on for whatever they did. Bakari knelt beside him, leaning into him with an arm around him for comfort and he in turn, leaned into that familiar weight. “This is...a very belated funeral of sorts,” he murmured. “A very sorry one at that. I can’t even leave flowers on their graves.”

“You can speak to them though,” Bakari suggested. “At the very least apologize for keeping them waiting for so long. Just...talk. I could go take a walk if you’d prefer-” “No, no...I very much would rather you here. I fear if I’m left alone with my thoughts I’ll want nothing more than to crawl into my own grave,” he confessed, shaking his head. “It is...difficult to put into words though and while I know this is your idea and you want me to do this to...I don’t know, what is it that you want me to accomplish here?” “Anyone with a brain can tell you’re fucking depressed, love,” he put blatantly. “And your unwillingness to come to terms with things is certainty at its core. You avoid your own feelings, you *run* from them when you can. And what you just said further proves that. You are a gentle soul and the world has not been kind to you, I get it, but for fuck’s sake, its not a bad thing to let yourself feel something, anything.” Godwine listened but didn’t look at him any longer. He ran his fingers through the grass and let the feeling of the wind blow over him. “I do let myself feel-” “If you’re going to say you feel love for me, or for Abigail, that doesn’t count. That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Bakari let their be a silence for a moment, waiting for further argument. When it didn’t come, he turned to kiss Godwine’s temple, “You don’t have to speak out loud. We can sit here in silence until you’re ready to leave.”

#vamptember #vampire #my ocs #ficlet thingy #backstory reference

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thatringboy · 3 years ago

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GenTan Week 2021 Day Two Prompt: Family

Title: Winter Lunches

Words: 1,874

Warnings: Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Rating: General Audiences

Summary: Tanjiro is hiding something from Genya, who intends to not let his partner suffer in silence

@gentanweek

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“Tanjiro? Has anyone seen Tanjiro?” Genya darted around the Butterfly Mansion. Outside the windows, a steady snowfall was layering the ground with a chilly blanket.

The tall young man stuck his head into a room to see the Insect Hashira looking over some papers. “Excuse me, Kocho-Sama, have you seen Tanjiro? I’ve been looking all over and he’s nowhere.”

Her purple eyes flicked up to him, but she never turned her attention away from her work. The smell of Wisteria blossoms flooded the room. “Oh, he went outside to the estate’s shrine.”

Genya bowed to her and dashed to the back doors of the Mansion. Tanjiro had planned to help him make lunch for the helpers around the estate, him ducking out on a date like this was unheard of. Was he hurt? Did he find something more important than Genya to fill his time with?

He trudged through the thickening snow with a grumble. The cold sucked, it seeped through his clothing and made him damp! Oh, Tanjiro was gonna get an earful for making him go outside in this delirious weather all right!

Genya stomped over to the shrine, but froze in his tracks. He found Tanjiro kneeling at the shrine, head bowed in focused prayer with enough incense burning to warm a small hut. Genya mentally kicked himself. Of course Tanjiro would be praying at the shrine! That’s what people do at shrines! So, who was he praying for? His parents? But that was an awful lot of incense for just parents.

“Tanjiro?”

His partner sat back on his haunches and turned his head over his shoulder with a kind smile. His cheeks and nose were flushed from the cold. “Yes?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean t’ interrupt, but we’re late to starting to make lunch—“

“Oh no, I am so sorry!” Tanjiro panicked and blew out the incense, scrambling to his feet and bowing at the hip. “I lost track of time, please forgive me!”

Genya snorted. “Don’t worry about it, let’s just get going.”

They didn’t speak as they trudged back to the Mansion’s kitchen, but they did hold each other’s hands on the trip back. It was a simple gesture, but Genya didn’t feel the cold at all whenever he had Tanjiro by his side. Despite this, he still wanted to question the red haired swordsman about the shrine, but decided to wait until they got inside.

“So does praying at the shrine make you feel better?” Genya stoked the fire in the stove they were using while Tanjiro set out various ingredients.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like, does it give you peace of mind or something?”

Tanjiro shrugged and found a knife to start cutting vegetables. “A little. It helps to have a way to talk to everyone. Have you ever prayed at the shrine?”

Genya stood up and shook his head. “Himejima-San had one at his estate, but I just never felt comfortable praying. It just didn’t feel right to me.”

“That’s okay, I’m sure your family can feel how much you love them no matter where you are!” His smile was warm enough to melt glaciers.

Genya loved and hated how that smile made him fall apart on the inside, but there was another question at the back of his mind that refused to leave him alone. “So when you say ‘talk to everyone’, who were you referring to? Grandparents? Ancestors?”

The taller boy instantly backpedaled at the way Tanjiro’s face fell slightly. “I-I mean if you don’t wanna talk about it, you don’t have to, I was just curious--”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Tanjiro’s smile was back, but Genya knew him well enough to know that it was forced. The shorter of the two took his vegetables to the water basin to wash off. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Oh right, Tanjiro could smell emotions. Genya found some noodles to drop into some oil, his question still unanswered. He hated how little he truly knew about his partner. What was Tanjiro like before he became a Demon Slayer? Did he have a different personality? Did he lose his parents? How did he treat Nezuko before she became a demon?

“How many people were you praying to to need that much incense?”

“Can we just talk about something else?” Tanjiro’s voice was sharp and defensive, something that Genya had never heard before. It made him flinch.

“Yeah, sure. Sorry, love.”

They ended up working in a silence that hung over them as they finished and passed out the lunches to the busy Kakushi and servants of the Butterfly Mansion. Genya loved the smiles he saw on the faces of all they served, but that happiness faded when he went to Tanjiro again and was brushed aside.

He watched Tanjiro excuse himself to the room he and Nezuko were sharing during their stay with a heavy heart. Had Genya said something to upset him? Well, duh , but what was it he said? He had asked about the amount of incense his partner had used at the shrine and suddenly Tanjiro shut down.

Genya begrudgingly wrapped himself up in a coat and stomped back out to the shrine. The snow had packed over the entire ground, but the incense was still warm and aromatic when he arrived. Tanjiro had left behind no pictures of anyone or any other sign he was there earlier besides the smoking sticks that died as soon as Genya approached.

He trudged back inside, shucked off his clothes and quietly ventured to the Kamado’s room, smiling when he passed Shinobu’s three little helpers carrying warm towels to patients. Genya always considered himself to be good with kids despite his mean demeanor. Of course, there was that one time with Kanata Ubuyashiki, but he had apologized to the small girl after Tanjiro had broken his arm.

Genya snorted at how hostile he had been towards Tanjiro in comparison to their relationship now. A complete 180.

He approached the door to find that it had been left cracked open and could hear Tanjiro whispering to his little sister.

“... remember when Shigeru burned his hands so badly that Takeo had to chop all the firewood for a week? Yeah, yeah, I know it was mean that we laughed at him, but he did grab the coals with his bare hands. Oh, and remember how you and Mom would try to teach Hanako how to use your loom, but she just kept getting tangled in it?” There was light laughter floating in the air that made Genya’s heart swell.

Who were these people Tanjiro was talking about? None of those names sounded familiar to Genya. He pushed his thoughts down and moved closer to the door to hear better.

“Well, it’s time for you to go to sleep. Goodnight, Nezuko.”

Genya pushed himself away from the door to the otherside of the hallway as Tanjiro shut the bedroom door behind himself.

“Hey, Tanjiro, what--”

HIis partner turned around and Genya felt the air leave his lungs. Tanjiro’s cheeks and eyes were red from crying, but he was quickly trying to hide it by wiping his face on his sleeve. “Oh, hello, Genya, how can I help you?”

“Are you okay?”

“Never better, why do you ask?”

Genya frowned, which looked more like a glare, and put his hands on his hips. “I need you to talk to me about whatever the hell is going on with you today. I can’t be there for you if I don’t know how to help.”

“I don’t need help--”

“You’re crying. Just tell me why so that I can find a way to comfort you--”

“Just leave it alone, Shinazugawa.” Genya flinched at the coldness in Tanjiro’s voice, but what really broke him was how another tear slipped down his partner’s cheek as he resorted to Genya’s family name.

Despite his screaming mind, he didn’t move as Tanjiro walked away. He kicked himself for not doing something more. He should have chased after him, held him tight and comforted him despite whatever was going on!

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

He let out a groan and marched after his partner. If there was anyone in the entire Demon Slayer Corps who was more stubborn than Tanjiro Kamado, it was Genya Shinazugawa. He found Tanjiro in the estate’s indoor gym preparing himself for training.

“Tanjiro.”

The red-haired boy chalked up his hands and moved silently to the large rope suspended from the ceiling.

“Tanjiro.”

He wrapped his legs around the rope and started to climb it up to the bell at the top.

“ Tanjiro .”

Genya received no response until Tanjiro scampered back down to the ground and got himself a cup of water to sip. “Oh hello, I didn’t see you there.”

“Bullshit, you smelled me coming through the door.” Genya’s eye twitched. “I thought Kocho-Sama said that you’re not allowed to train alone until you finish healing.”

“It’s a stress reliever.” Tanjiro set down his water and stretched his arms. “Am I not allowed to take care of myself now?”

Genya sputtered. “What? No, of course, but this isn’t taking care of yourself, this is running away from me when I only want to help!”

“Fine!” Tanjiro clapped his hands together, spraying chalk dust in the air. “Today is the anniversary of when Kibutsuji Muzan slaughtered my family, turned Nezuko into a demon and I had to bury the half-eaten corpses of my mother and baby brothers and sister! Happy now?!”

The taller boy flinched again and lowered his voice. “I… I didn’t know… I’m sorry, Tanjiro.”

Tanjiro clenched his fists. “Yeah well, it’s fine. I just don’t want anyone worrying about me. I don’t want to be coddled out of pity because I’ve lost people I loved. There are others who lost more and yet they’re still going, so I cannot afford to let my emotions consume me.”

As much as he hated to make the connection, Genya could hear the voice of Sanemi in his partner. Were the people Tanjiro was talking about to Nezuko his siblings? How many did he have? Did he truly lose all but one?

“Tanjiro, grieving isn’t a crime. I just wish you had told me sooner so that I could show you my empathy. I’m one of the few people in the building who understand what you’re going through. You spend so much time caring about others, let me take care of you.”

Genya stepped towards his partner and pulled him into a hug, glad that he no longer faced any resistance. He put a hand on the back of Tanjiro’s head to hold him closer and kissed the scar on his forehead. “I love you, moron, you don’t have to pretend to be okay for me. So what if you’re a little broken? We can both be broken together.”

He felt Tanjiro start to sob into his chest and squeeze him tighter.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry, Genya.” Tanjiro managed to squeeze out a few words over his tears.

Genya kissed his scar again with a smile and slowly rocked him back and forth. “Don’t worry about it, you don’t have to be alone anymore.”

#Demon slayer #gentanweek2021 #gentan #Tanjiro Kamado #Tanjiro x Genya #Demon slayer Genya #angst with fluff #sfw #Angst with a happy ending

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starbuckie · 4 years ago

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𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

challenge: time travel challenge by @justagirlinafandomworld

prompt: “we’re divorced?”

pairing: sirius black x reader

words: 5.7k words

warnings: FOURTH WALL BREAK!!(sorry im very excited about that), lots of angst, almost smut(hehe), sirius lowkey has a breeding kink, sirius is an asshole for a bit, the smallest bit of fluff, fix-it, and the same time travel theory as back to the future

summary: an unnatural occurrence lets a woman go back in time to try and change everything she’s known for the past twenty years.

a/n: wow, i normally don’t write for harry potter so this was a nice change. anyways, this is for yvette’s time travel writing challenge, and everybody say HAPPY BIRTHDAY YVETTE! i’m so sorry this is late, it got deleted and i needed to re-edit, but i truly appreciate your friendship and your lovely, amazingly beautiful self, and I’m so so glad that we became friends :) this fic is not beta-read at all, so if you see any mistakes tell me, but otherwise i really hope you enjoy this fic<3

main masterlist || harry potter masterlist

It still wasn’t over. After all she had lost, more specifically everyone she had lost, and the shitty cycle that she had to call her life, it still wasn’t over. The people she had watched the life drain from, the screams of those suffering from the loss caused by the Dark Lord, and yet life still hadn’t had its fill of torturing Y/N. Grimmauld Place felt empty without the kids, without the Weasleys, but they had gone back to their home and soon enough she would have to as well. Harry had gone back to Hogwarts with Dumbledore, though she’d argued to hold onto him just a bit longer after-

After Sirius had died.

Time had passed, maybe two or three weeks, but no matter what the woman couldn’t bring herself to get out of Sirius’ old bedroom, simply staring at the ceiling with her tears at bay. Her and Sirius had been a complicated thing, to say the least, a topic nobody had brought up since 1983, when she had banned it. Not as if there was much to talk about after the divorce and Sirius going to Azkaban. After Lily and James had died, after she had fought with Dumbledore for custody of Harry, after she had become a professor at Beauxbatons and moved to France without a second thought. Sirius had been locked up after he’d hurt her in the worst possible way, and Y/N’s heartbroken soul found no other reason to return to England.

But, she pushed those bad memories to the back of her mind. It seemed so trivial, looking back on it. Not the broken house, of course, that had been his own mistake. But Y/N had many regrets, all of them seeming to revolve around the mischievous black-haired man who she had fallen in love with as a teen. The night it went down, the night their relationship had fractured at the seams and fallen down, was her greatest one however. It had been so stupid, so, so stupid, but they’d both gotten caught up in the moment, and Y/N had let him die without knowing how much she was sorry for that night that they let their fears consume them.

The cries that she had tried so hard to contain finally broke free from the restraints of her heart. “I’m so sorry, Siri,” she whispered into the air, “I couldn’t save you this time.” As the hot, salty tears ran down her cheeks, Y/N shuffled across the room, letting her feet drag her to the old Black family room, the dark green walls embracing her rainy emotions.

A little gasp escaped her lips as she looked at the portraits among the wall. The Black family tree was faded along the age-old wall, but what she was really looking for was the burned out image of her raven-haired love. There, right next to Regulus, was a black spot, scorned and scarred by the prestigious family for being a blood traitor. Y/N smiled and traced the burn with her finger, remembering their fourth year when she had accompanied him home for the holidays so he wouldn’t be completely alone in the hellhole he had to call his house. Sirius had snuck them up to this room and spent the night talking in hushed whispers sworn secrets. “I’ll be yours forever, Siri, and I’m sorry for fighting with you. I wish-” she sniffled, glaring at the spot in the wall as she tried to garble out her words, “I wish, I could go back in time, and just fix it. Just me and you, and that stupid night, with the bloody fight about children because you deserve it all, darling.”

“Ah, I think you can.”

Y/N turned around, her eyes wide with fear. That was not Kreacher’s voice. There stood a younger woman, around nineteen, a scroll of paper and a quill in her hand. There was a whisper of a smirk on her face, brown eyes glittering even in the dimness in the room. “Who the hell are you?” Y/N looked at the door, which was still closed as she left it. She cast her wand out, pointing it at the stranger who did nothing but smile. “How did you get in here? Are you with the Lord?”

“With Voldemort?” The woman simply laughed. “Dude, I’m not with ‘the Lord’,” she added with air quotations. “Also I’m not really even here, so don’t you worry about that. My name’s Malia.”

Malia held her hand out, but Y/N kept her guard up. “You’re American. What brings you here? Are you a muggle?”

“Oh, nope, not a wizard, I’m just the author of this story.” Malia confided. “I’m here to tell you that you can fix this.”

“Fix… what?” Malia just rolled her eyes and sighed, staring up towards the ceiling as she spoke.

“God, did I write you to be hard of hearing now, too? I ought to fix that when I get back.” The woman blankly stared at the strange girl, wondering what the actual fuck she was talking about. “I can give you the chance to go back in time, Y/N. It won’t be for long, it’s really not gonna be interesting for more than two hours at most, but that should be enough time to tell the gang about what’s to come with Voldemort.”

“Like... time travel?” Y/N asked. The only way she knew how to time travel was the time turners. “But all of the ti-”

“Time turners were destroyed in the Department of Mysteries, I know, I know. Trust me, I’ve read Harry Potter more times than I’ve said ‘I love you’ to my parents.” Malia smiled. “I’m the author, I make the rules, and my rule is that I’m giving you two hours in 1978 to talk to Sirius so he can fix the emotional fucking mess left behind by J.K. Rowling.”

“Who’s J.K. Rowling?” Malia shuddered at the name.

“A raggedy-ass, transphobic bitch who wrote y’all into existence, but she’s not of importance right now.” She checked the small, rectangular box in her hand, which glowed and provided little light in the darkened room. “Let’s see, it’s currently eleven-forty, so you have until one-forty to find the Marauders and fix this future. It may not be fixed in the books in the future, but if you are able to do it here that’s all that matters.” Malia’s brown eyes were downcast, her bright and loud personality dimming for just a moment before returning to Y/N’s confused gaze once more. “Try not to screw up too much while you’re there, just enough that you defeat the Dark Lord the first time. Tell Sirius all you know and that should be enough for him to fix all the mistakes, but do not under any circumstances let him or anyone else know who you are. I wish you luck, Y/N, it was nice to meet ya in person.”

And with a peace sign in front of her face, she disappeared into a flash of neon pink light.

“Bloody hell! Fix my future? Talk to Sirius? If this even is time travel, then how am I supposed to get there- AH!” Y/N’s body felt like it was turning inside out, her guts being torn from her stomach and back into it again. A delirious giggle arose from her lips in the black void she was pulled into, and a soft chatter could be heard, like voices at the end of a tunnel.

“Blimey, looks like we got ourselves a nutter on school grounds.” Y/N’s arms flailed around, desperately seeking some sort of grounding surface to hold on to when her back hit a rough surface. There was an audible crack somewhere in her body, but she felt so sick that she couldn’t tell where.

“Are you okay, ma’am? You just appeared from the sky and hit the ground.” Warm, brown eyes met Y/N’s, a familiar mess of black curls resting atop of the boy’s head. Large, rounded glasses sat perched on the tip of his nose, and an impish smile, one she used to know so well before he died, met his lips.

“James,” she sighed. The boy stared at her strangely, and only then did she notice the three other boys and girls each behind them. Remus, Peter, Sirius, Lily, Marlene, and Alice.

Sirius.

The sight that met her eyes made her nearly emotional. It had technically been only three weeks since she had seen him, but here was the young boy she had fallen in love with. The one who charmed her with his smart words and witty retorts to her brush-offs, who used to hold her in his arms in the most intimate and gentle ways. His grey eyes sparkled with curiosity, the infamous Marauder mischief swirling within the silvery pools.

Seeing him so young tugged at her heartstrings, and though she wanted nothing more than to hold him in her arms and never let go, a small, niggling feeling at the back of her head held her back. Was there something wrong?

“You know me?” Oh right, she was currently thirty-five. Looking around she noticed that she was outside the quidditch pitch, and there were other students, staring at her with widened eyes. No one knew she was Y/N L/N, their fellow schoolmate and probably one of the very few of them that survived the Death Eaters attacks. None of them were aware how it ended, or how it was currently going for them back in 1996, and in this time there was the first Wizarding War going on and they had every right to be terrified for their lives.

James now took a more defensive stance, standing tall and holding his wand out. “Who are you?”

She couldn’t give him the answer, instead letting her mouth gape open as she stared at him with wide eyes. Y/N looked across the grounds for the nearest exit, which was down by Hagrid’s hut and into the Forbidden Forest. It was her only choice at this point, to hide in the dark, creepy space, maybe just until the students went away so she could find Sirius and talk to him alone. It’d be hard to separate him from the boys, but if Lily were occupied with James it sure would be easy.

Her younger, seventh-year self didn’t seem to be in the audience, thank Merlin, and with that knowledge, she got up and ran, ignoring her screaming muscles. That time travel really did a number on her.

As she ran through the crowd, shoving people aside, she heard the students mutter, too much in shock and disarray to stop the crazy, old woman who knew James Potter.

“This is dodgy.”

“Someone ought to tell Dumbledore about this.”

“She kinda looks like Y/N L/N.’

“Don’t insult the poor girl like that, that wonker is ages old.”

“Come back here! Who the bloody hell are you?” Y/N’s heart beat quickly in her chest, threatening to burst out. Only three minutes in the past and it was all going straight to shit. “Stupefy!”

Shit. “No, James, please don’t-“ Her body hit the ground and her eyes closed, the last thing she saw being the pumpkin patch by the hut.

“I see you’re awake now, Ms. L/N.” Dumbledore stood above Y/N in the hospital ward bed, his grey beard dangling in front of her face. Her first instinct was to start blaming him for everything that had happened, starting from Lily and James’ deaths to Sirius’, already opening her mouth to call him an old, senile cow, but then she realized that Harry hadn’t been sent to the Dursleys yet, much less been born yet, so none of it would have an effect on him. Y/N’s second instinct was to question how Dumbledore knew who she was in 1978, but her former Headmaster started to speak before she could do so. “I must admit, it’s very courageous, that stunt you just pulled. I don’t think Ms. Louie will be too happy about that.” Y/N sent him a questioning stare. “Malia, the girl you met earlier. Malia Louie.”

“Headmaster Dumbledore, how did you know it was me?” She was dressed in a white gown that went to her knees, and behind him she could see her blouse and jeans folded and clean. Ah, the Hospital Wing. She had brought the boys here more times than she could count in her years at Hogwarts. “I don’t exactly look as young as I used to.”

“Ah, don’t worry Ms. L/N, you’ve kept your good looks quite nicely, even in your older age.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully, his wrinkled eyes sparkling with joy. “And speaking of young, if you are still worrying yourself about your younger self, you can put that to a stop. I am aware that you are not able to tell anyone who you are, and time travel is exceptionally dangerous if you are seen by the other version of yourself. I’ve already told the students that you were just a stray witch, misguided in your ways and that you were well taken care of. However, I think that brings us to the question of what your intentions are in the past, Ms. L/N.”

“Headmaster, I don’t think I can tell you about my business here. I’ve already messed up by letting the school see me by letting everyone see me, I don’t know why that girl even sent me here, it’s clear that this was a mistake.” Y/N sat up on the headboard, feeling her eyes fill with tears once again. The tall arches of windows let the sun in the room, and she could see the specks of dust swirling around in the golden light. It had to be close to the end of the year for them, maybe sometime around April or May, near the end of N.E.W.T.s at least. She could imagine that it’d be easy for her to get out of Hogwarts for the day, with all the students studying for the stressful exams in the library, maybe she'd make her way to Hogsmeade and walk around or visit Hagrid under a false name to have some tea. He was always open for a nice cuppa with strangers on any free day he had. “Thank you Headmaster, for your kindness, but I really ought to be going. I-it was nice to see you.”

Y/N started to help herself out of the bed, swinging her feet over to touch the cool stone ground. Bones cracked with pain and fatigue, her muscles stretching sluggishly. Merlin, that she was not expecting that much hurt from the fall, but she should have never underestimated James Potter. No one ever should if they want to keep their good mind and sanity.

Dumbledore handed her her clothes, cracked lips set in a straight line as he nodded solemnly. “I hope you accomplish whatever it is you are here to do, Ms. L/N, but I have no doubt that you will.” With a sly wink, he added, “You were always one of our most ardent and bright students.”

Y/N let herself smile, and with a wave, swiftly brought herself to the door. “Thank you, Headmaster.”

After slipping outside, she ran down the corridors, echoes of her feet ringing lightly behind her. The courtyard proved to be empty and she quickly ducked behind a column and tugged her jeans on hastily, making sure that no professors came walking past. Though the sky proved to be bright and cheerful, a slight breeze carried through, making her fall off balance and fall on the cemented ground.

“Are you okay, darling? You look like you’re in need of a little help.” Y/N looked up to the speaking figure, one that she both loved and dreaded to see.

She gathered herself quickly, her mind running fast and heart beating out of her chest as she tried to get out. “Yes, I am okay, thank you for asking. I think I’ll just get up and going now, I don’t need to take time out of your day like this-”

“I know who you are, Y/N.”

Y/N came to a full stop, going against her brain that screamed at her to run away. Sirius looked downtrodden, his grey eyes watering despite the small hint of a smirk on his face. Though he was always one for playing around and not taking anything seriously, she knew when it was time to stop pretending and get real. “How’d you know it was me, Sirius?”

“You really don’t look bad for your age, darling.” He offered her a hand to help her up and she took it graciously, eyeing him nearly guiltily and forgetting about her promise to Y/N. But that was useless now, this moment with her first love was much more important. “Also you have the tattoo on your chest. I knew it was you the moment you landed on school grounds.”

She traced his gaze to her left collarbone, where a paw print, just barely visible beneath her low-cut blouse, sat. It was his, or Snuffles’, paw print, and at this point in time they had probably gotten it done about three months before. He had one for her too, a horseshoe for her horse patronus, right on his left side of his chest too. So they’d always be right next to each other’s hearts, as cheesy as it seemed.

But they were dumb, lovesick teenagers, and they acted the part well too. Their love was all-consuming, shagging in under the bleachers at the quidditch pitch and making out under the stars. It was fast, everything was fast, decisions, ideas, classes, all of them under the impression that they had to do everything right then or they’d be dead before they got to actually live. They had dreams of marriage, and a big, big family, obviously so far away from his family so they could never hurt their children’s lives the way they had hurt his.

They were fantasies, Y/N had known that well enough when she and Sirius got divorced, but it was something that eighteen year-old Sirius Black held close to his heart. No matter how shitty his life got, he was always a firm believer in a happy ending. In their happy ending.

“How am I right now?” They now stood over the Black Lake, staring into the glittering depths of the water where some mermaids could be seen sneaking peeks at the handsome boy and the strange lady who had fallen from the sky.

Sirius stared at her questioningly for a moment. “How are you doing right now? I mean, I believe that I should be asking you that ques- oh, Merlin, I’m such a git, you meant your younger self.” Y/N laughed at that, her heart lifting with the goofiness of the old Sirius relieving an ache in her heart that she had had for so long. Not that old (it felt weird to say that) Sirius had been anything less than silly and snarky, but it was never directed towards her. It was nice to have the resemblance of their old relationship back, even if it was just for a fleeting moment. “I suppose that you’re okay. You didn’t see, well, your big moment on the field, but at this point Lily has probably opened her big, fat mouth and told you. N.E.W.T.s are just finishing up, so you’re much more light-hearted than during the study season.”

“I really did have a stick up my arse during exam time, you always told me to loosen up-”

“Y/N, cut out the small talk, I think it’s okay for me to ask how and what is happening.” Sirius cut in.

So she told him. Y/N had always been upfront with people about everything. Or rather, she had learned how to be upfront with people after her and Sirius’ divorce. Without details of the deaths, she explained how she was sent back into the past to fix it in some conceivable way. However, she did tell him about the fall out. Maybe she wanted him to understand her pain, even though it was a younger him, but she had to admit to herself that it was because she just wanted Sirius, in whatever form life gave her to hear out her grievances and apologies.

Since her Sirius was dead before she could.

“We’re divorced?” Sirius looked about ready to break down into tears, almost as if the concept of them breaking up or separating was foreign to him. “What exactly did we fight over, Y/N? That doesn’t seem normal for the two of us.” Sirius asked.

“Well, to be fair, it wasn’t a normal predicament for us. either…”

Sirius slammed the door shut, efficiently pinning her against it with his white button up ruffled up, navy tie hanging from his neck loosely. Y/N’s arms were held down tightly against the oak wood, the sensation of the cold door burning into her rather warm skin making her squeal. Her husband’s tongue worked its way through her parted lips, low groans rising from the back of his throat from the way she moaned in tandem with his hips pushing into hers. Legs wrapped around his tapered waist, the pink, floral skirt Y/N wore rising high on her thighs, revealing more of her flesh to the lust-filled man. Both of their giggles echoed off the hallway walls of their small cottage home, just four miles west of their best friends’.

As the twenty year-old man threw his wife unceremoniously on the bed, he shed himself of his shirt and swiftly unbuttoned his slacks, throwing them haphazardly across the room. Merlin, Y/N looked ethereal laying spread out on the bed, panties around her left ankle, swollen lips parted with short puffs of air leaving them. “You just get right down to business, don’t you, Black.”

Crawling over his body, his hot breath hit her neck as he growled against her skin. “Could say the same thing about you, darling.” Sirius’ lips made their way down every inch, every curve, nook, and cranny of Y/N’s body, smoothly slipping her clothes off as he did so. Her sweet gasps filled the bedroom, back arching off the bed to meet his chest. “I’m going to put a baby in you tonight, sweetheart, we’re-”

Y/N sat up straight, her eyebrows trained in confusion at her husband. “What? A baby?”

Sirius’ heart pounded in his chest. “Yes.” He remarked in a clipped tone. “Is that not what you wanted?”

Her mind recalled her words from earlier that day, as she chatted happily with Lily about the news of her pregnancy. “Siri, I said I may one day enjoy having a kid of my own. Not right now, of course, but later. After all, we only got married a few months ago, don’t you think we should hold off a bit on that? We’re twenty years-old, Siri, there’s so many years for that.”

Rage filled Sirius’ blood like a spreading fire. In all honesty, it wasn’t so much about his anger as it was his hurt and fear. Fear that she had realized how fucked up he truly was, fear that she realized what he had known all along- that she deserved better than him. “So you don’t want a baby with me?”

“I never said I didn’t want that, Sirius, I just said that I’m not ready!” Y/N yelled back. At this point both of them stood on opposite sides of the bed, faces hot with tears. “We’re in the middle of a bloody war, people we know, people we love, have lost their lives, and it is not the ideal environment to raise a child, Sirius! Just because James and Lily are ready to have one doesn’t mean that I am too!”

“When will you be ready, Y/N? When will it ever be enough time for you? When will I be enough for you?” The heartbroken girl tried to interject, but her voice was cut off by her husband’s quickly enough. Sirius climbed onto the bed, holding her chin harshly with one hand. “Tell me, did you ever want to be with me in the first place?”

“Yes, Sirius, of course I wanted to be with you.” His heart hurt looking at the love of his life in tears, but even that was able to melt his cold facade. “I love you more than anything in the world.”

“Then fucking prove it, Y/N.” With that declaration, he removed his hand from her face and gathered his clothes, slamming everything in their shared room as Y/N quivered, knees ready to buckle on the spot. “I’m going out, don’t wait up for me.”

As soon as the front door shut, she fell to the ground in tears, the laughter that once filled their home replaced with the sound of her shattered heart.

Y/N had done her best to not tear up during her explanation of the events that had taken that night, but Sirius' eyes watered, refusing to believe the truth. “No. No. I didn’t do that. Y/N, tell me,” he gripped her biceps with trembling hands, “please tell me I didn’t really do that. I can’t believe that I-I, that I-”

“You were drunk, Sirius, I don’t think you truly knew what you were saying at the time.” She sighed, “But people always say that drunken words are just sober thoughts.” Y/N rubbed her arms, just shivering slightly in the Scotland breeze. “You came back two hours later punching the wall and breaking it, and that’s when I knew that we wouldn’t last.”

The raven-haired boy’s head started to shake, even more mortified of the actions that his future self, the man he’d be in just two years' time, had done. “I packed up my things, not that there were many, we’d only moved into the house a month before, left, and I sent the divorce papers a week later. It was probably better that way, you would’ve divorced me if I hadn’t done it first.” Y/N had gotten used to telling her sob story to colleagues at Beauxbatons, to her family, but it felt different with pre-divorce Sirius. Of course, she had never thought she’d be in this citation either, so no one could really blame her for feeling weird. “You signed them easily, and my lawyer made sure that I never had to see you again.” Until Lily and James died.

“Until…” Sirius led on.

“Merlin’s beard, Sirius, you’ve always been able to read my mind. Shouldn’t have doubted it for a second.” He smiled at the sentiment, gesturing for her to continue. “I can’t tell you, Sirius, I hope you can understand that.”

“Why, Y/N, what happens that can be any worse in the future?” Oh dear, Sirius, you really do not want the answer to that question. She needed any way out of this conversation, after all running away was what she did best, and her eyes already searched for several routes to which she could run. Not that Y/N could ever outrun Sirius in his animagus form, but it was nice to have the belief that she could. The boy sensed her distress and grabbed hold of her hand. “You don’t have to tell me, darling, but I have to admit that I am a bit worried, just in the slightest.”

Y/N let herself calm down, squeezing Sirius’ hand and noticing his watch. She had actually given him that watch, gold-plated and dark grey metal, but it wasn’t the beauty of the gift that caught her eye, but rather the actual time on it. One-thirty.

How had that much time gone by so quickly? She was going to be sucked into the black void of time travel again in ten minutes, and that wasn’t nearly enough time to unload nearly twenty years worth of history onto Sirius. No, he would go insane from that much knowledge, which was exactly against what Malia had advised.

“I don’t have enough time to tell you everything that happens in the future, Sirius. But what I am about to tell you is vital, absolutely vital for the good of all of us in the future.” Sirius nodded with a serious sort of smile on his face. “Don’t let Peter be Lily and James’ secret keeper. When the time comes that they move away, I’m not going to tell you where yet, do not under any circumstances let Peter be their secret keeper. I know he’s one of our best friends right now, and do not tell anyone about this, but he’s going to betray us in the worst way possible.”

While Sirius was shocked, he nodded solemnly and ran a hand through his long hair. “I won’t tell anyone, Y/N. Can I fix us, Y/N? I don’t know if you should be letting the key to a happier future rest in my hands.”

“I full heartedly trust that you’ll do some good, whatever the outcome may be. As for fixing us, I hope you can, but depending on what happens we’ll just have to wait and see.” She sighed, “If you want my opinion on it, I think that we both should have waited longer to get married. It was right after James and Lily got married, but we aren’t and never will be them. We both had a lot of growing up to do, so I would take it slowly. Communicate your wants and needs in the relationship and in the end it may not even be us together. But I know you, Siri, don’t let this get in the way of your entire life. The most important part is that you tell James and Lily about Peter.”

She glanced back up the school grounds where students could start to be seen leaving their classes. “You better get back to the castle, Sirius. McGonagall is going to come for your arse and this time the boys aren’t going to be able to cover for you.”

“If they knew where I was, darling, I don’t even think they’d believe me.” Sirius chuckled.

Y/N nodded in agreement and pulled Sirius into a tight hug. “You can do this, sweetheart, and even if you can’t, it will not stop me from loving you any less. Maybe the future wasn’t meant to be changed, but regardless of whether that is true or not, I know that you will try your hardest, Sirius. Just try not to die, okay?”

The boy was still clutching onto her tightly, his tears soaking her rose-colored blouse. “I’ll do my best, darling.”

With one last kiss on the forehead, she smiled at him. “I know you will, Siri.”

Y/N’s arse hit the floor once again, her spine cracking once again. “What’s the year?” She yelled out, reaching for the walls of the black family room.

But it wasn’t there. Upon opening her eyes, she saw James, Lily, and Sirius sitting at a wooden table in her old white cottage. A nice tea set, her grandmother’s as she realized later, sat in the center, along with a large stack of letters. “Y/N, what the bloody hell happened to you, I’ve been worried sick!”

Her red-headed best friend scurried over to her, brushing invisible dirt off her shoulders and pulling her up abruptly. James fixed the glasses on his nose, cleaning them off with his striped jumper. “You look a little disheveled right now, Y/N, what ran you over?”

“You know who she reminds me of right now, Jamie? That crazy witch friend of Dumbledore’s that made her way onto campus back in seventh year.” Lily giggled as she hugged Y/N.

“Merlin’s beard, you’re right!” James walked over to the woman of the hour, ruffling her hair with a smirk on his face. “If you were about twenty years older I’d have no trouble believing you were the same person.”

While Lily and James recalled their memories from the strange woman all those years ago at Hogwarts, Sirius pulled Y/N aside, an arm wrapped around her waist. The warmth radiating from his body was nice, embracing her in a comfort she hadn’t felt in so long.

“I’m going to go ahead and believe that I did something right?” Sirius grabbed her hand, and only then did she notice the coolness of metal sitting on her left ring finger. There sat the single band of gold, a small ruby encased in its plating. She had once joked that diamonds were too overrated, and he went out and got her the most vibrant gem he could find, claiming that it was just like her. But regardless of its shape, size, or type of gem, it was there.

“Yeah, Siri,” Y/N replied with tears in her eyes, “you did good.”

“Oi, Blacks, stop making out and get over here, we got a letter from Minnie!” James yelled, making both wives chuckle. “Harry’s gotten himself in detention for punching Malfoy again.”

“Oh, thank Merlin, the boy deserves a few more good hits.” Sirius laughed.

“McGonagall still talks to us?” Y/N asked in amazement. “You’ve got to get me caught up.”

“Don’t worry, darling, we’ve got all the time in the world.” Sirius gently placed his lips onto hers, and for once in nearly twenty years, Y/N felt at peace. There were no more hasty warnings of the future, no psychotic old men coming after her family, no young girls rushing in to tell her how to fix her screwed up life. Cracked, pink lips moving against her own, his tongue delving into her mouth, and Y/N knew she was finally off the clock.

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dweetwise · 4 years ago

Text

i’ve been kinda quiet while finishing a project over on ao3, but now i’m back with some riconti to share <3

ship: felix x ace (only implied; can be read as platonic if you wish!)

word count: 1640

Someone to Lean On

"—and I thought for sure she wouldn't pick me up! I ran straight into her after being unhooked, but she didn’t even hesitate calling my bluff. Well played, Spirit!"

Felix kept half-listening as Ace rambled on about their latest trial. They were walking back to the campfire together through the fog, having both been sacrificed by the ruthless katana-wielding killer.

It wasn't uncommon for Ace to wait around for him in the plane of nothingness if he didn't survive the trial. Felix had lost count of how many times he'd regained consciousness only to see the familiar, smiling figure calling over to him through the fog.

He wondered if Ace knew how much he appreciated the gesture. The gambler’s friendly banter was always a welcome distraction from the harrowing experience of having every fiber of his being torn to shreds and consequently be reassembled.

But this time was different. Felix could barely make out Ace's words, his own thoughts sounding deafening inside his head despite the silence of the fog. His body didn't feel like his own; it was like the Entity's claws were still twisting and turning around his insides.

Felix’s feet dragged behind him and when they eventually came to a stop, Ace stopped right with him and patiently waited for their journey to continue. Only once Felix made no move to do so did the Argentine’s brilliant smile falter from uncertainty.

"Felix?" Ace asked.

"I can't do it," Felix said.

According to people back at the campfire, it had been over a year since Felix was taken into this horrible realm. It felt even longer than that; with nothing in this world but means to make them suffer, Felix was starting to forget the things he used to enjoy.

"Sure you can, champ!" Ace grinned.

Felix knew Ace was trying to be encouraging. He knew he should go back to his play-act, should plaster on a fake smile and brush off his struggles as nothing more than a bad trial, like he’d done countless times before.

But he couldn’t.

"No," Felix said, a surprising determination in his voice. "You don't understand."

“What do you mean?” Ace asked.

Felix wasn’t sure how to describe it. The more he thought about this world and the absolute wrongness of it, the harder it was to pinpoint its exact cause.

He felt lightheaded and almost delirious. It was like he was in a dream; a terrible nightmare that he couldn't wake up from. Nothing in this place made sense, yet all this time he had accepted it as truth. What if it was all a figment of his imagination?

"Is any of this real?" Felix asked.

Ace’s smile made way for a confused frown, and his expression was the only thing in their surroundings that looked lifelike. The unnatural fog surrounding them felt neither damp nor cold, the unending darkness somehow allowed them to see perfectly, and even though there was nothing to guide them they still knew exactly which way to go.

Felix felt his breathing pick up as he only now seemed to realize the vast emptiness of nothing they were standing in. He’d been here countless times before but never fully aware of it, and his heart was racing as he frantically looked around, feeling the terror rising in his chest—

Until a warm hand was placed on his shoulder.

"Hey, deep breaths," Ace said, turning Felix to face him.

The touch helped to ground him and the panic started to fade as Felix looked into familiar brown eyes. Ace felt real, but how could he be sure?

"It doesn't make any sense," Felix said. "The Entity doesn’t exist. It simply can’t."

Ace said nothing. Whether he was giving Felix space to speak or thought he’d finally lost his mind, Felix didn’t know.

"What if this is just a nightmare? What if I'm going crazy—having some sort of episode from work stress, and I'm really hospitalized in an institution?" Felix said, his frantic eyes finding Ace's. "What if I'm in a coma, or—or I died, and this is all my brain shutting down? What if this isn't real?"

Felix realized he was shaking. Ace looked at him silently; like he was pondering what to say. Felix didn’t think he’d ever seen him look so serious.

Abruptly, the embarrassment hit. Felix broke eye contact and stepped back. Even if he was losing it, he didn't need to drag Ace into this—

"So what?" Ace asked.

"What?"

"If you wake up in a hospital tomorrow and realize none of this was real, what does it matter?" Ace said. "It's not gonna change that this feels real."

Felix was silent, mulling over the words.

"I think that, sometimes, it's best to just take things at face value," Ace continued. "Fucked-up things like the Entity exist? Alright. One of them yoinked us into its world for fun? Sure. Whether we like it or not, right now we're stuck here—might as well try to make the most of it."

"Don't you want answers?" Felix asked.

"What I want is to get the hell out of here," Ace huffed dryly.

Felix couldn’t remember Ace ever talking about an escape before. The gambler had always seemed surprisingly well-adjusted to their predicament, but he should have known that even the most optimistic person would be eager for the chance to find a way out of this nightmare.

"But since that's not on the table, I'll take the next best thing of living to see another day," Ace said. "And if I wake up in a real bed tomorrow and it was all a dream? Even better."

"Have you never thought about it? That this could just be a product of your mind?" Felix asked.

"Briefly, yeah," Ace said. Then he smiled. "But then I remembered how shit my imagination is. No way I would've been able to come up with something like this."

Felix huffed out a dry chuckle despite the situation.

"But it's probably easier for me," Ace said. "I know you tend to overthink things. And with the kind of year you've had? I'm kinda surprised you've adjusted so well."

Felix hadn’t thought about it that way. After the numerous panic attacks and freezing from fear in his first trials, Felix never considered himself particularly well-adjusted to his new existence. He owed most of his meager success to the people around him, always there to lend a hand and pull Felix up when he wasn't strong enough to do it himself.

And most of the time, that person had been Ace.

"I had some help," Felix said, offering a hesitant smile.

"Ah, true—almost forgot about Élodie," Ace grinned. "Must be nice, having a friend like that in a place like this."

Felix didn't have the heart to correct the assumption. Having the familiar face of a childhood friend among their teammates had no doubt been beneficial for both Felix and Élodie while they learned to survive this new world.

But it wasn't Élodie who had been by Felix's side those first months. It wasn’t her encouraging words that got through to Felix when he felt paralyzed from inaction, or her who took the time to involve him in the group when Felix was too lost in his own head to participate.

"It really makes a world of difference, having a good friend," Felix said.

Ace kept looking at him, until his face spread into a bright smile at the realization.

"Well, in that case, can I offer you some friendly advice?" Ace asked.

"Of course," Felix agreed.

"Don't get too wrapped up in the 'how's and 'why's," Ace said. "It's just gonna consume you. And…"

Felix waited as Ace paused in an unusual gesture of uncertainty.

"I'd hate to lose you," Ace said.

He was still smiling pleasantly, but his eyes betrayed his real emotion; it was the first time Felix had seen genuine fear in Ace's eyes. And it wasn't from a brutal mori or the hopelessness that they might never escape.

It was from the possibility of losing Felix.

"Alright," Felix said. "I'll try."

"It's a start," Ace said, his demeanor back to the usual playfulness. "You ready to head back?"

Felix realized he felt much calmer now than only minutes prior. There was still an uneasiness in the back of his mind due to the unspeakable horrors that haunted them on a daily basis, but he felt grounded. This wasn't just about him; no matter whether it aligned with the objective truth, this was their reality.

"I think so, yes," Felix said.

"'Atta boy," Ace said.

Ace's hand left his shoulder, and Felix immediately missed its warmth. The moment of camaraderie they had shared was exactly what he had needed. Even Ace seemed more at ease, his smile relaxed as he fell into step beside Felix.

"By the way," Ace said conversationally. "If this is all in your head, could I request you make it a little… I don't know, less guts and gore, more flowers and booze?"

Felix chuckled. "I can try."

"Oh, and while you're at it, can you give me one of those makeovers?" Ace said. "Make me like ten years younger? I think I’d look great in brown hair—ooh, and a six pack too!"

Felix listened to Ace ramble with a smile. It would never cease to amaze him how the seemingly lighthearted man could go from joking to serious and right back to silly banter in just a few short moments. Ace was like a bolt of lightning; chaotic in nature and gone in the blink of an eye, but always managing to calm the storm in Felix’s head.

"Ace?" Felix asked, interrupting Ace still talking about his hair.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," Felix said.

Ace’s smile flashed bright and warm in the darkness surrounding them.

"Anytime."

#riconti #felix richter #ace visconti #dbd fanfic #dweetwrites #dbd #dead by daylight

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alovesongshewrote · 4 years ago

Note

If you’re taking requests, maybe something about Doux finding the reader absolutely delirious from lack of sleep? I may or may not have gotten literally any sleep last night and although I managed to get through my morning routine pretty efficiently I FEEL my body just wiping out. I will be comatose within the hour.

Sleep, Darling | Hisirdoux Casperan x Reader

Plot: you’ve been awake for too long and it is not doing you any favours. Thank god for punk wizards who care about your wellbeing, amirite lads? (Also, the pure Irony that this is getting posted at like, 2:40 am where i am, rip me i guess)

Word Count: 2,292

Warnings: A bit of blood is mentioned in passing, the reader isn’t human and probably has adhd or smthn. Also, Friends is mentioned, like, the tv show, so that’s a thing!

A/N: if you look closely, you can actually see me projecting onto this one. I hope you got some sleep anon.

Tags: @furblrwurblr @einahpetsyarcip @sorrels-scribbling @anxious-stitcher @alive-and-afraid @animedweeb333 @douxiesdamsel @saroski05

Time isn’t real. It’s a social construct made to bring order to the general chaos that is human existence. That was why you were up at 5 a.m for the second, maybe third, night in a row. Was it healthy? Probably not, but you didn’t need sleep, you needed answers. Answers to what? Who knows at this point, honestly.

You couldn’t say you were surprised when you finally noticed the late, or early hour. You just shrugged it off and went “fuck it, all-nighter,” which was fine for the moment. But time’s a bitch, and that moment was over pretty fast. By noon, you were ready to collapse. The three cups of coffee did not help. Instead, they made you vibrate at a frequency that could quite possibly break glass. As much as this sucked for you, it was worse for your lovely friend and co-worker, Hisirdoux Casperan.

Now, our boi Douxie was and is madly in love with you, but shhh, it’s a secret. You also love him, and that’s a secret too. Neither of these secrets are well kept, and the only reason you aren’t together is general stupidity. Literally, anyone else who watches the two of you interacting can tell that you're in love. Hell, half the town assumes you’re together already. The other half keeps trying to get you together. It is not working very well. But that’s all a digression. What you really need to know is that Douxie loves you and watching you suffer from a lack of sleep was Not A Pleasant Experience. You were delirious, shaky, and constantly off-balance. You could work well enough, but it was clear that your health was not in the same zone.

The final straw came when you cut your hand on broken glass. You’d dropped a cup, and instead of using magic, you’d tried to fix the mess by hand. That plan did not work, and you received a bloody slash across your palm for your troubles.

“Ah. Fuck,” you said, thinking you were whispering but instead speaking at a normal volume.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“‘S nothing, I’ve got it,” you did not got it, especially not in this state, and Douxie had the good sense to figure that out. The blood was a pretty good hint though.

“Oh, fuzzbuckets.”

“I told you, I’m toooootally fine, there is nothing to worry about.”

“Here, (Y/N), let me help you-”

“No, no, this is, this is-” it was then that your sleep-deprived brain decided to cut off your train of thought and replace it with another, more chaotic train. You stopped talking and just stared at Douxie for a solid minute. Or at least it felt like a solid minute. Time isn’t real, remember that.

“(Y-Y/N)? You alright there, darling?”

“You’re really cute, did you know that? Like… really cute. Steve was right, you could be a model.”

“I-”

“Also, just gonna put it out there, I freakin’ love it when you call me darling. Like, I know you call most people darling, but it makes me feel special. Don’t ask why, it just does.”

Douxie wasn’t planning on asking why. He wasn’t really planning on anything. Your sleep-deprived half-confession had turned him from a capable individual into a blushing mess in less than a second. You always had that effect on him, but it looked like your exhausted state was giving you a bit of an edge.

“Oh, sorry, I made it weird. Anyway, do you think if I brewed my next coffee with Monster instead of water it would wake me up? Because I’m still tired, and it isn’t fun.”

“I- you- I’m-”

“I think I might try it, honestly.”

“Ok, how about you don’t do that,” Archie said, swooping in, literally and figuratively, to save the day, “Douxie, can you please get (Y/N)’s hand patched up? It looks quite painful and they’re dripping blood onto the carpet.”

You were, in fact, dripping blood onto the carpet. That wasn’t good, “Oh, that’s- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fret, just go do something about that hand,” with that, Archie smacked Douxie upside the head in an attempt to snap him out of his flustered state. It was super effective!

“Ahh, yeah. C’mon, (Y/N), let’s,,, go,,, fix,,, that.”

“Ok,” you stood, too tired to protest, and followed Douxie into the back of the bookstore, which was literally just his apartment.

It was a nice place. Very cozy, very him. It made you want to curl up and take a nap, but to be fair, literally everything made you want to curl up and take a nap at the moment. Regardless, his home made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside and you never wanted to leave it. Maybe it was the interior decorating, but you knew it was because your favourite person lived there. What you didn’t know, or didn’t realize, was that you’d just spoken your entire thought process out loud and Douxie heard every word of it. Once again, the boy was a blushing mess. If you were awake enough to process things, you would have found it cute. Or you’d be dead from embarrassment, that one is a bit of a toss-up.

Fighting through his flustered state, Douxie pulled you into the bathroom and collected a first aid kit from under the counter. While he focused on getting things done, you curled into a ball in his bathtub. For some reason, your exhausted brain decided that sitting on the edge of the bathtub simply did not Vibe™ but sitting inside the tub was better than nothing, and so you just,,, curled up there. Douxie was only a little surprised to see you there.

“(Y/N)?”

“D’you remember that time on Friends when Winona Ryder played a closeted lesbian? That was a fuckin’ trip, man.”

“(Y/N), darling-”

“That whole episode is just- it’s just strange.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Hehe, Stranger Things.”

“(Y/N), love, I need to see your hand.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah, I forgot. Here,” you sat up, extending your hand out to the wizard. He took it, sitting on the edge of the bathtub which was fine for him to do, I guess. Not you though, you were stuck in bathtub jail for sleep deprivation crimes.

You squinted up at his face as he tended to the nasty scratch you’d given yourself. You didn’t have the capacity to focus on what he was doing, so instead you focused on him. He was pretty, as you’d said before, but that was always true. At that exact moment, his brows were furrowed in concentration, his eyes concerned and his jaw set. His hands were steadier than yours could ever hope to be, especially since you hadn’t been sleeping. Overall, he looked kind of mad, so you sunk down into your bath-prison, silent and waiting for him to finish so you could get back to work.

Douxie was not mad at you. He was upset that you hadn’t been sleeping, but he wasn’t mad. He was just worried for your health. Your wizard did not appreciate seeing you shaking and sleep-deprived. He didn’t appreciate it when your current state led you to injure yourself, either.

He wrapped up your hand and gave it a small pat, “Done. Now, come on, you’re taking a nap.”

His voice surprised you. It was gentle, calm, not at all angry like you’d suspected. You found yourself so lost in it that you didn’t realize what he’d said until he said your name, trying to snap you out of whatever haze you were in.

“Oh, wait, what? No, shit, I have to get back to work-”

“No, you need sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak, I need to go-” you stood and almost fell over. You probably would have broken something if Douxie didn’t catch you. You hadn’t exactly expected to end up in his arms today, and despite the heat rising in your face and neck, you were not complaining.

“(Y/N)-”

“I’m sorry, Douxie, I-”

“You need to sleep. Please, (Y/N), don’t make me use a spell on you.”

You froze for a second before a smirk crept onto your face, “You wouldn’t.”

“I-”

“You wouldn’t use a spell on meeeeee-” the smirk grew into a full smile as you let yourself go limp, forcing him to move his hands to support you better and pull you closer to him. Was that your plan? Maybe. Was it part of a second, bigger plan? Also yes.

“You wanna bet?”

“Sure.”

“I-” and then he went silent. There was a moment of tension where you just stared into each other’s eyes, holding your breath to see what the other person would do. Your gaze fell to his lips as his fell to yours. For that moment, your thoughts began to wander far out of your control. Douxie’s mind was also running rampant but in a different direction. You were right, he thought. He couldn't use magic on you. As far as he knew, you were a human. Just a mortal being who crawled their way into his life and stayed there, improving the quality of it greatly. If there was even the slightest chance that a spell may have negative side effects, which most sleep spells did, he wouldn’t dare risk it, especially not on you. He sighed, tightening his grip on your waist, “You’re right.”

“What?” Oop, plan going sideways, PLAN GOING SIDEWAYS!

“I’m- not going to use magic on you,” he helped you to stand, and moved to take a step back before you grabbed his hoodie and pulled him back to you, ignoring the sharp sting in your hand.

“Ok, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, hang on there wizard boy-” you took a moment to pull yourself out of the bathtub entirely, “You can’t give up that easily.”

“Wha-”

“Come onnnnnn, make it fun, make it exciting. Put a spell on me or whatever, just-” you went quiet for a second, but for once you weren’t distracted. Just quiet. You had to face facts. Your plan had failed, and now you had nothing but the truth.

“(Y/N)?”

“Just make my brain stop. For just two seconds.”

“What?”

“Please. I’m running on a motor and I can’t stop myself. I haven’t slept and I have no choice in the matter.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Look, just, take away my free-will if you have to. Knock me out, magic or otherwise, I just want five seconds where I’m not on hyperdrive,” you were standing on your own now, though Douxie’s arms were still wrapped around you and you hadn’t let go of his hoodie, “Please.”

The bathroom was silent for a minute. It took that long for Douxie to process what you’d just said. You feared, for that moment, that you’d said too much. You hadn't. Not to him, anyway.

“Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on,” he said, picking you up, effortlessly sweeping you off your feet.

“Wait, what!?” your voice was slightly more frantic, surprise lacing through your words.

“There’s more than one way to get a person to sleep.”

“Oh-?”

He didn’t respond to your question, instead, he carried you out the door and into what you could only assume was his room. You had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him for dear life until he set you down on the bed.

“Stay here, okay? I’m going to make you some tea-”

“Wait!” you stopped him, grabbing his wrist as he turned to leave, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, my darling,” he sat in front of you on the bed, “You just need to get some sleep, okay?”

“But what about-”

“I’ll cover your shift, you don’t need to worry.”

“I-”

“Just rest, for now, love. Please.”

“Ok,” your words were a whisper, something that Douxie could only just hear. The next thing though, he didn’t have to strain to hear at all, “Yeah. I meant what I said earlier, by the way. You’re so pretty, it isn’t fair.”

He laughed at this, at you, finally seeing some humour in your shenanigans. He relaxed now knowing that you may actually get some much-needed rest. He stood, kissing your forehead and tracing the side of your face with a hand, rough from guitar strings and 900 years of sweeping.

“Worry not, love, you’re pretty too.”

“Hey, wait-”

“Don’t ‘hey, wait,’ me. You are. Now lie down, I’ll be back in a second.”

A smile crept onto your face as you followed orders. Your emo wizard man thought you were pretty. And he cared enough about you to let you sleep during work hours, in his home, no less. You let yourself relax into the bed, grinning once again. It smelled like him, like thyme and peppermint, lemongrass and sleep. It was nice, comforting. You could only vaguely think of Douxie as your brain finally took a fuckin breather. It was everything you needed, honestly.

By the time Douxie came back, you were long gone, lost to your dreams and finally asleep. He sighed a smile that matched yours on his face. He placed the cup of tea on the bedside table before grabbing a blanket out of his closet and draping it over you. You looked so peaceful. Good. You deserved some peace every now and then.

He took the cup and left you, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes as he did. After making his exit, he placed the still-hot tea on the counter, disregarding it for now before returning to the bookshop.

“How are they?” his familiar asked, tail twisting in concern.

He gave a final fond look at the door before returning to business, “They’re just resting.” And for once, you were.

#hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux imagine #angst #fluff #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #toa hisirdoux #tw sleep deprivation

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kyoomiii · 5 years ago

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♡ Sick days [hcs]

- ✎ characters ❝ kageyama, ushijima, kenma and tsukishima ❞

- [ trigger warning(s): none other than maybe one curse word ]

- ⚘ genre ❝ fluff ❞

❝ in light of the current situation i hope everyone is staying safe and healthy. we can get through these tough times together. (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ❞

-kyo ♡

Kageyama knows something is wrong the moment he wakes up that morning, the irritating tickle in the back of his throat and the sudden heat that engulfs his body confirms his suspicions, but even so he refuses to let it bother him, pushing even the thought of being sick to the back of his mind as he departs for school.

Though unfortunately, the day passes agonizingly slow for him, and by the time it finally ends he had managed to fall asleep in almost every single one of his classes prompting multiple scoldings from varying teachers which only heightened his pounding headache.

Even so, he brushes it off with mild annoyance as he changes out of his school uniform and into his practice attire, a small pit of dread forming in his already aching stomach knowing you’d be there waiting for him, and that you’d definitely notice his odd behavior.

As he enters the gym, the familiar squeaking of shoes almost sets his mind at ease, a trickle of relief flowing through him as he basks in the success of hiding his condition and that surprisingly, you were nowhere to be found. However, the moment is short-lived once he spots Hinata, who squints in his direction as if he had grown three heads.

“What are you staring at boke.”

“Nothing… I guess you just seem a bit- weird today.”

“It’s fine- I’m fine! Let’s just practice already!”

But throughout the entire practice, his vision only seems to get hazier, and his head only seems to hurt more as his tosses become less and less consistent, resulting in snickers from Tsukishima, and more shouts from Hinata, until eventually he just collapses in a pile of sweat, an overwhelming ache shooting throughout his bones, and at this point he no longer cares about the current activity, all he wants is you.

“Crap- Kageyama! Someone get y/n”

And much to his relief, you come in rushing soon after his collapse, Sugawara having moved him into a slightly more comfortable position prior to your arrival.

“y/n…”

“I’m here Tobio… You’re gonna be alright, your sister is here to take you home.”

It was almost scary how lifeless he seemed. Slumped in between Sugawara and Daichi, barely conscious as you run your fingers through his damp hair. The club is visibly startled as it takes a total of all the third years and Tanaka to haul the setter into his sister’s car as a result of his protest.

“No... Want y/n…”

The little whine that leaves him has you flushed, cheeks burning red as you simply nod, scooting into the backseat with him as he deliriously snuggles close to you, a violent shiver running throughout his body despite his unbelievably hot temperature.

The ride back to Kageyama’s house is relatively silent with the exception of the occasional groan or whimper from him. A wave of worry floods through you as you help his sister move him into his bed.

“I’m really sorry y/n, I have to get back to the shop, so can you please do me a favor and watch Tobio for a few hours?”

“I-Uh- Yeah.”

And like that it’s just you and Kageyama, who looks just as bad, if not worse than before the car ride. He’s shivering like a leaf as he curls closely into the blankets, face contorted into displeasure.

“Tobio…”

With a gentle caress to his sickly pale skin, you stand up to leave, a feeling of guilt swelling in your heart at the thought of leaving Kageyama alone, even if it were just a little bit of time as you quickly return with a damp towel to press to his drenched forehead.

He looks almost too peaceful as he relaxes into your touch, the cloth that’s pressed against his skin easing his discomfort all the more. His eyes flutter open, squinting to look up at you.

“I’m okay y/n.. I’m not sick.”

You’re almost in disbelief, and you would smack him for being so reckless if he weren’t so ill.

“You are. Why would you lie about that?（￣□￣；)”

But the gentle grin that stretches across his face disposes of any harsh feelings you may have for his lack of thought in regards to consequences.

“Thank you for taking care of me y/n…”

“Of course Tobio… Now get some rest… Boke.”

It had hit him like a brick. One moment he was fine, sitting in the corner of the gym before practice began, game in hand as some of the members shuffled about setting up the net, and the next he’s suddenly feeling a sort of dizziness in the back of his head.

It was all too familiar, the dizziness followed by an instant ache in his body as he slumps against the wall, eyes darting across the gym in fear of being noticed.

His game is slowly forgotten, as he dies repeatedly, unable to truly concentrate on the task at hand, due to the level of discomfort brought by the heat of his hoodie, but the almost painfully aching shivers that plague his small form convince him to keep it on.

He wishes you were here as he begrudgingly stuffs his game back into his backpack, unable to continue staring at the pixelated screen that has slowly but surely made him more dizzy than he was feeling moments ago. However, the thought of bothering you sets a pit of guilt at the bottom of his stomach, so he stays silent, suffering quietly as the other boys draw closer to finishing setting up.

In less than three minutes, Kenma manages to fall asleep, legs hugged closely to his chest as he tries to make himself as small as possible in the confinements of his clothing. The gentle tap against his shoulder wakes him up. Kuroo looking over him worriedly, his usual smirk replaced with a frown.

“I’m calling y/n-”

“Please don’t…”

“Not an option.”

Kenma doesn’t have the energy to protest, his already low levels dropping even lower as he drifts between being conscious and unconscious.

He doesn’t even realize you’re there until the familiar comfort of your touch lingers on his burning hot skin. The warmth makes you recoil in shock, much to his noticeable dismay. He looks so small and vulnerable as Kuroo helps you haul him home.

“Please take care of him y/n…”

And upon Kuroo’s departure back to school to finish the remaining practice, it’s just you and Kenma, who in this current moment has decided to burrito himself in his covers, the little lump that he’s created shivering harshly.

The sight makes you frown as you gently run your fingers over the fabric that he is using to shield himself. You had heard that Kenma would often get fevers after exerting himself when he was young, but everyone, including him had thought he had grown out of that phase. With a sigh, you stand from your spot at the edge of his bed, sending one last glance back before making your way to the kitchen to prepare something that would be easy to eat in his condition.

As you stir the pot of rice porridge which seemed to be the easiest and quickest option, a small thump resonates throughout the relatively quiet house. A surge of worry filled you as you hurriedly set the stove to low, rushing to see what had caused the commotion.

To your surprise Kenma lays in the middle of the hallway, his blankets still wrapped snugly around him as he wiggles his way into the living room. The image would be cute if said boy wasn’t currently suffering from a fever.

“Kenma? What are you doing out of bed?”

His response is so quiet, so delicate as you help him onto the couch.

“Missed you...:”

A soft smile graces your lips as you place a chaste kiss to his burning forehead.

“I missed you too. Let’s get some food and medicine in you and we can go to sleep yeah?”

“...Okay…”

The lull of silence passes between the two of you as you return to the pot in the kitchen, you were sure that Kenma had fallen back asleep…

“I love you y/n…”

“I love you too Kenma”

Morning practice was something that Ushijima never missed out on. He was always there bright and early, dressed and ready before anyone else, including Tendou, who despite sharing the same dorm with, refused to get up at the butt-crack of dawn like his odd roommate. So when the rest of the team gathers, with Ushijima nowhere in sight, there’s a certain uneasiness that settles amongst the Shiratorizawa volleyball club.

“Where’s Ushijima-san… He’s never this late.”

“No idea-”

“Don’t you share a room with him Tendou-san…?”

“...Who told you that? ｢(ﾟﾍﾟ)”

“You did? (´_ ` ﾒ)”

Your mind zones out of the conversation, stuck on a certain ace who was more dedicated to this sport than anyone you had ever met, something you had learned to love about him. The fact that he wouldn’t show up like this was just-strange…

“You guys get started, i’ll go find him.”

“Okay here’s a key~ But if anything-”

“Tendou Satori!”

And with your cheeks flushed red, prominent glare on your face you head off to the boy’s dormitory, ignoring the glances of curiosity as you practically stomp your way through the halls.

Softly you knock on Tendou and Ushijima’s dorm room, only to receive silence. There’s a slight hesitancy to your actions as you slowly unlock the door.

“Toshi?”

You call once more only to be met with the soft breathing of an unconscious Ushijima. The sight is something that is truly a shock, Ushijima Wakatoshi NEVER missed practice because he slept in.

There’s a feeling of worry that settles in your chest as you approach him. Kneeling down you run a hand through his dark brown hair, the heat radiating from his skin causing a frown to form on your features. Gently, you shake his shoulder, calling his name once more.

“Wakatoshi?”

And like sleeping beauty, his eyes flutter open revealing deep pools of dark olive. His mind is a haze, eyes bleary as he looks up at you, and it’s then you notice the gentle flush of pink that tints the tip of his nose and both his cheeks.

“y/n…?”

His voice is hoarse, throat scratched dry, most likely from a coughing fit as he gazes at you confused.

Your frown deepens as he attempts to sit up, visibly wincing before he eventually gives up, body going limp as he lands back on the mattress with a slight huff.

“It’s okay Toshi, just relax today, I’ll take care of you.”

To anyone else Ushijima remains stoic, however, knowing him as well as you do, you catch the slight upturn of his lips, and the small shift of emotion in his eyes as you press a soft kiss to his forehead.

A sigh leaves you as his eyes flutter shut once more, your lips purse as you call the main office notifying them of Ushijima and your absence, followed by calling Tendou who doesn’t believe a word you’re saying, but nevertheless delivers the message to the rest of the team, and lastly a call to a restaurant for some soup that would be easy on his stomach.

As soon as you finish all your calls, your attention is turned back to Ushijima. His face is scrunched in slight discomfort as he grips tightly at the blanket covering his body, and it’s then you catch the slight shiver the ripples through him.

Ushijima is a man of muscle, his body runs warm like a furnace, but in this moment he can’t help but feel unbelievably cold, despite the burning heat of his skin. So silently, as you take off your blazer and bow tie, folding it neatly and placing it on his desk, you crawl into his bed beside him, holding him close.

He stops shivering, cuddling closely to your body.

“...S’warm...”

“Don’t worry- I’m here.”

And you swear you could see the faintest smile ghost his lips as he settles in to your touch, basking in the much needed heat.

“Thank you y/n...”

Tsukishima could feel the oncoming sickness brewing in his system a day before it decided to smack him in the face. He’s not exactly surprised either, there’s always been this schedule since he was young which consisted of him being perfectly fine and healthy most of the year, and then dying for about a week somewhere in the winter months.

And after years of experiencing the same cycle, he’s become somewhat prepared to deal with whatever may come. Unfortunately though, he was not prepared when the flu decided to make its appearance as soon as his parents and Akiteru were out of town, leaving him to suffer alone.

With that being said, he wakes up one morning, feeling like absolute crap. His throat feels raw and scratchy, his body aches so badly that it just hurts to move, and his head is pounding so hard that he’s sure his brain has become mush.

He barely finds the strength to text you and Yamaguchi that he doesn’t feel very good, and then to his parents who unfortunately won't be back for a little while longer..

Immediately, the text has you worrying, Tsukishima NEVER missed school, and the fact that he decided to skip today meant that he was most likely really sick, and to top it off he was alone, with no one to check up on him, the thought alone put you in a state of mild anxiety.

As a result you spend most of the day with your thoughts scrambled, unable to focus as your mind constantly drifts back to Tsukishima, who has not texted you since that morning.

You’re so anxious to see him that as soon as the last bell rings you practically rush to his house, using the spare key he had lent you in case of an emergency.

Your steps are hurried as you enter the house, placing all of your stuff off to the side, then quietly making your way to Tsukishima’s room only to find him knocked out cold, sprawled on his bed cuddling close to a dinosaur comforter (something his mom got him when he was five, but doesn’t use unless he’s in need of real comfort).

The sight makes you smile softly as you set foot into the room, padding softly across the floor as to not wake him. His blonde hair is tousled and messy, some strands sticking to his sweat drenched forehead. Strewn across his bed is an assortment of empty water bottles, and beside his bed sits an empty teacup.

It’s then the realization strikes you that he probably hasn’t had anything to eat since the day before, the thought making you frown as you brush the stray hairs from his forehead, a kiss being placed against the burning skin instead.

Upon making your way into the kitchen, you begin to make a simple soup, something that would be easy on his stomach, but would still taste okay to eat. You don’t even notice Tsukishima opening the door to his room waddling out, bundled in his dinosaur comforter until a small thump can be heard from the couch.

Once you finish the soup, you scoop up a small bowl before walking over to Tsukishima who lays on the couch staring blankly at the wall, he can’t seem to find the energy to make an snide comments, rather he’s just kind of grumpy and quiet mentally cursing life.

“Kei, I made you soup.”

“M’ don’t wanna eat… I’m too tired.”

“If you don’t eat you’re not going to get any better…”

He groans as you help him sit up, making sure to keep the blanket around him so he’d be at least a little more comfortable. When you get him settled you place the bowl in his hands, watching as his eyes squint at it.

“Something wrong?”

“...”

“Oh my god Kei, stop acting like a baby I didn’t poison it. (；¬＿¬)”

“I don’t know that. ρ(￣ﾍ￣ﾒ)”

It takes a minute for him to finish, but once he does he’s immediately curled up on the couch behind you, back facing you as you opt to begin today’s homework.

The room falls quiet for a moment, until the sound of shuffling fills the air, next thing you know Tsukishim has joined you on the floor, slithering his way into your lap until his head is resting on your thighs.

“Wow, who knew you could be so soft Kei.”

“- Shut up.................... Thank you for- everything. ( ˵¯͒＿¯͒˵)”

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

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v e l o c i t y - final chapter

The one where John’s your true mate, but he doesn’t want you to be his.

In a universe where fate grants you a new mate whenever you lose yours, John has lived quite comfortably for many years with the knowledge that he was alone after Mary. That all comes crumbling down the second that he meets you. How could the universe choose someone so young to be his omega?

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N: this is it, everyone. Thanks for hanging out this far! I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride 😘

John’s P.O.V.

I knew something was wrong even before I left her. A wendigo just a two-hour drive away, should be a quick job and one I didn’t think she was quite ready for yet, so I took the boys and trusted her to be alone in the bunker for a little while.

I hadn’t anticipated the job to take over a day. I hadn’t anticipated having to sleep away from her body for the first time since I relented and allowed myself to get close to her.

But I particularly hadn’t anticipated the effect this first physical separation would have on the both of us, like it was our body’s way of punishing me for not claiming the woman who was meant for me.

Of course, my cells couldn’t tell I hadn’t really abandoned her. To them, I was ignoring everything my instincts wanted. I couldn’t really tell my own body everything was going to be alright because all it knew was that I couldn’t scent my unmated omega, and that was against every Alpha’s nature.

“Dad, are you alright?” I turned to stare at Dean, who was frowning up at me from where he was sat on the motel’s couch, trying to help Sam find out something about this damn thing we’d been hunting.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” I scoffed, not interested in letting my kids see behind the mask of control I always put on. “Keep reading, we gotta get to the bottom of this.”

But my voice faltered, catching Sam’s otherwise occupied attention. He glanced up at me quickly before doing a double-take, concern written all over his features.

“Dad, you don’t look so good,” he pointed out, and the uneasiness inside of me had me aggressively growling at him, wanting to get this over with so I could go back to my omega.

“Boy, just fucking do your research, will ya?” I pointed towards the computer, waving my arms around before I decided to take out my jacket, sweat pouring out of me and making my shirt stick to my chest.

I could hear Sam’s unimpressed hum, but I was trying very hard not to take out on them this feeling of distress that was raising inside of me, so I decided to ignore it.

“Alright,” Sam conceded, even if I could still hear the disbelief in his tone. “But if you’re like this, can you imagine what she must be going through right now?”

The thought had me freezing, worry consuming my every thought. I hadn’t considered that before he suggested it to me, and just that fact had guilt burning my stomach, the knowledge that I had failed as her Alpha cutting through me.

“I have to get to her.” My hands were already reaching for the car keys, I could see the boys nodding from my peripheral vision. “I have to go home.”

They stayed behind as I went to the door, Dean awkwardly waving while reminding me to come pick them up once we were “settled”. “There’s no way I’m going to that bunker while they’re like this,” I heard him say to Sam, and I can’t say that I minded.

I couldn’t even think about it. All that mattered was my girl, and how quickly I could get to her.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I don’t think I’d ever felt agony such as this. Sweat covered every inch of my body, my fingers incessantly working my clit as I shook with the need to feel John near me.

It took me by surprise, this overwhelming urge to cum, a desperate calling from deep within my bones that took me to his bedroom before I could even rationalize it. Buried in his sheets, it was almost possible to pretend that he was here.

Almost.

I just wish that I was able to hold myself together for long enough to call him, let him know of my state. As it were, I couldn’t stop touching myself for long enough to do anything. All I could think about was my need to be filled, my need to be claimed, fucked, owned in every possible way.

I knew the smell of my wetness was almost unbearable by now, taking over the entire bunker in an effort to call for my alpha. I almost pitied the boys once they returned to find me like this, but right now, I couldn’t care. This need had me drenching his bedsheets and all that was left for me to do was hope and pray that John was coming home soon.

Seconds melted away into hours while I stood there, delirious in desire, hopeless in need. The only sounds I could detect in the empty bunker were of my own overwhelming wetness as I slowly fucked myself to an unsatisfying orgasm, over and over and over again.

So when the door opened up to reveal a distressed and disheveled John, I honestly thought I would cry.

“Jo-Alpha,” I moaned, overcome with excruciating longing. Now that he was here, my body suddenly relaxed before my muscles became tense again, all at once. “I need you.”

And I truly did. The scent of him was enough to calm me down for a millisecond before it turned up the need in my omega nature, calling out to him so he’d finally do what both of our bodies so desperately needed.

“I came as fast as I could,” he admitted, hands making quick work of his own clothes, and the relief I felt inside of me as I realized he wasn’t going to fight this anymore was simply unbelievable. “As soon as I realized…” He didn’t finish himself then, almost falling over as he tripped on his jeans, eager to get closer to me, his body as needy for mine as I was for him.

“I couldn’t handle imagining you suffering half as much as I was, ‘mega.” He climbed the bed still half-dressed, even if only in his boxers, but the second that his skin touched mine, I was thankful for it.

It was enough to calm down my cells - for now. He rubbed his nose against my scent gland, sending the signal it needed to understand that everything was okay, my Alpha was here now.

“I’m sorry that I left,” he whispered against my skin, body molding against mine until I felt pleasantly suffocated by his weight. “I should have known better. Should have known I’d be hurting us both.”

Now that he was here and I could feel his warmth, the pain had faded away, leaving only the overwhelming need to be filled. I didn’t want to hear his excuses, I knew he didn’t mean to hurt me this time.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I assured him, hands traveling down the expanse of his large back to reach for his boxers. “Just fuck me.” A growl escaped John at my request, driving me even crazier with need. “Fuck me, please, Alpha,” I begged. “I can’t take this anymore.”

I wasn’t exaggerating. I was about to lose my damn mind. And when John pushed away just enough to connect his eyes to mine, analyzing my state, and whispered, “I’m not gonna be able to hold back,” the whine that escaped me was barely even human.

It seemed to be exactly what he wanted to hear though, because it led him to press open-mouthed, wet kisses against my cheek, trailing down my jaw and neck until he was right over my scent gland, lips engulfing it.

“I’m gonna ruin you, little girl.” Whimpering, I desperately rubbed my drenched cunt against the boner still covered by his boxers, all while he took a hold of my wrists and pinned them to the bed. “And you’re gonna love it.”

I had no doubts about it. When his lips met mine, drowning me in his kiss, I gave myself completely to him, fully immersed in the dance our mouths performed, distracted from the overwhelming emptiness that I felt for just a second.

“Let me make you feel good, baby girl.” It was a new pet name that he’d been using for a few weeks, and it always made me instantly wet. Hearing it in this context though, had me going absolutely feral.

John’s P.O.V.

My hands roamed all over her perfect body, unable to believe that I finally had it completely exposed to my gaze. I silently thanked myself for having let the lights on when I walked into the room, desperate to calm her down. It allowed me to fully take in the beauty underneath me, about to become completely mine.

“Fuck,” I breathed out as I filled my hands with her breasts. “This all for me, ‘mega?” She just whined, nodding slowly as I licked my lips in explicit hunger. She was so soft. And she became even softer as her muscles relaxed underneath my touch, her body finally surrendering to her Alpha.

“There you go, little girl…” I grunted in appreciation, slowly unglueing our bodies so I could stare down at where she was sticky and taunting. “’Ve been dying to taste you.” It came out more as a mumble as I thought out loud, crawling backward to reach her sensitive little pussy.

The scent of her was overwhelming, begging me to reach out and dive right in, but just before I could, she seemed to snap out of whatever trance she was in, fingers wrapping on on my hair and pulling hard as she fought.

“No!” Caught by surprise, I pushed her down by the inside of her thighs, forcing her to spread them open, letting me take in the beautiful sight of her wetness despite the burn on my scalp.

“Just a little taste, baby girl…” I negotiated, tongue already stretching to reach her, take in her sweetness. She was as delicious as I’d expected, and it was impossible not to go back for seconds, bury my face against her hole, try to get as much of her juices as I possibly could.

“Please, please, stop!” She argued, desperate to be filled, but I wasn’t done with her yet. So I tapped two fingers against her pouty lips, still licking away at her pussy.

“Open up.” It took her a while to did as I told, but as soon as she obeyed, allowing me to run my digits over her lips, I buried those two fingers inside her mouth, silencing her complaints so I could peacefully eat out this cunt like I wanted to.

A light bite had me inhaling sharping, wishing I had enough self-control to bury my cock in her mouth, make her choke on it, but that would be for later. “Behave,” I ordered, going back to sloppily eating her out.

It didn’t take too long for her to flood my mouth with her essence, which was everything I wanted and the last thing missing for me to completely snap. Chest heaving, I leaned down to cover her neck with my hand, tilting her face to the side so I could look at where I wanted to leave my mark on her.

“Are you ready, omega?” She opened her eyes then, almost out of it as she blinked rapidly to be able to focus on me. When she did, taking in the image of me hovering over her, my cock finally out, she immediately started whining.

“Please, Alpha, please!” I couldn’t take it anymore and I knew she didn’t, either. So I connected her lips to mine one more time, and stuffed my dick inside of her, thankful that the overwhelming wetness helped me push it in without much problem.

I would not have been able to be patient. The second the head of my cock breached her, her tightness was so staggering that I audibly hissed, needing to part from her mouth to try to get some control over my own body but quickly realizing I’d lose that battle.

My hips started acting on their own accord, thrusting in and out of her while she gasped and clawed at my back, ecstatic comments of, “Fuck,” and “Yes,” slipping from her lips.

“So fucking tight,” I groaned, watching where we were joined in fascination. “But we fit so well.” The sounds of her drenched cunt swallowing my dick were only adding to my arousal, getting me to fuck her faster and harder with each thrust.

“You were meant to take me, little girl,” I panted over her, riding us both to our highs, desperate to get her to cum for me again, this time around my cock. “This is where you belong now, huh? Right here, underneath me, filled by my dick.”

Feeling her from the inside, witnessing just how tight she was while still being able to fuck her just showed me how much we really were made for each other. Shame washed over me as I thought back on how much I tried to fight this. “Cum for me, baby girl,” I softly whispered, taking in her blissed expression, trying to distract myself from the guilt. “Cum for your Alpha.”

Her body went taut underneath me, unable to disobey my direct order, but it was clear that she had reached her limit anyway. She looked so good with her eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open, gasping for air and moaning at the same time, that I didn’t want to look away, but a pressing urge was clawing at me, and I knew it would soon take over.

It was time to claim her.

My mouth settled over her scent gland, engulfing it completely as my teeth marked her for the world to see. Her screams of pleasure became laced with pain, but the way she held me down to her body let me know she was enjoying this, as painful as it was.

When it was done, my pace changed to a slower rhythm, trying to get used to this new bond, the way I felt her pleasure intertwined in mine.

“Finally,” she joked a little breathlessly, making me laugh as I nuzzled her neck. “Does it still feel wrong to you?” I knew she was trying to pass it off as teasing, but the emotion was clear in her tone - and I could feel her vulnerability now.

Opening up a smile, I pecked her lips before assuring her, “Nothing has ever felt this right.” I knew she was feeling sensitive, but I could also feel her need for more, her need for me rising. She needed my knot, and I was going to give it to her.

Tears had started to flow down her cheeks, but her smile let me know it was more happiness than anything else. So I kissed away the wet paths they left behind as I kept rutting in and out of her, knowing there was absolutely no way of stopping myself from spilling inside her tight warm cunt.

Her body instinctively pulled away, trying to escape my knot, but I pulled her closer, burying myself as far as I could reach while nuzzling the mark that announced her as mine. “Oh, you’re not going anywhere, omega.”

At the sound of her title, she finally relaxed, just as I began filling her up, my mouth rebranding her all over again. “You belong to me now,” I sighed, resting my head on her chest as her hands wrapped around my back.

It was quiet in the room then, both of us catching our breaths and relishing in each other’s presence, knowing we’d never feel alone again. I kissed her temple as I adjusted us so she’d be laying on my chest, my knot still settled deep inside of her when I started to caress her skin.

“I hope you’re ready, little girl,” I teased. “We’ll be spending a lot of time like this from now on.” I could feel her smile against me, giving me a quick kiss before retorting, “You may be surprised to know this, John Winchester, but I really don’t mind the idea of spending the rest of my life in this bed with you.”

#my series #john winchester x reader #john winchester reader #john winchester reader insert #john winchester reader inserts #alpha! john winchester #winchester fanfic #john winchester fanfiction #john winchester fics

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honey-dewey · 4 years ago

Text

Superheroes Don’t Take Sick days

Pairing: Marcus Moreno/Reader

Word Count: 2,190

Warnings: Marcus gets sick with the flu and suffers the symptoms, including vomiting and passing out.

Marcus rarely gets sick. However, when he does, it’s bad. Very bad. Plagued by the flu, he has no one to turn to. No one except his PA and significant other, who demands he goes home to rest. When he refuses, they decide to take matters into their own hands.

“Mr. Moreno?” You knocked on the door to Marcus’s office, a stack of folders cradled in your arms. “Mr. Moreno?”

“Come in.”

You kicked the door open with your foot, doing your best to balance the various paperworks. Marcus lifted his head off his desk, staring at you. “How many times do I have to ask you to just call me Marcus?”

“We are at work,” you pointed out, setting the folders on Marcus’s desk. “At work, I address you formally. Because it is, say it with me now, a formal work environment.”

Marcus grumbled under his breath, opening the folder on top. “Huh. This is,”

“A lot?” You finished for him, leaning on the edge of the desk and examining Marcus. He looked exhausted, shoulders slumped in and head bowed slightly. His glasses sat on the desk next to his phone, both of which were smudged to the high heavens. You grabbed his glasses and instinctively began to clean them, knowing he hated doing it himself. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yep!” Marcus said, leaning back and pressing his palms into his eyes. “Just tired. Missy was up all night, and so was I.”

You put Marcus’s glasses down. “Oh no! What happened?”

Marcus shrugged. “She’s just sick.”

You raised an eyebrow. “She’s sick,” you repeated, a familiar exasperation in your voice. You loved Marcus a lot and knew that he was super smart, but sometimes he could be really thick when it came to common sense.

“Yeah?” Marcus looked up at you, clearly confused. “Why are you using that tone?”

“Marcus,” you said plainly. “You are also sick. Go home.”

“I’m not sick!” Marcus insisted, putting his glasses on and moving closer to his desk.

You nodded, sliding off his desk. “I’m going to go grab Dr. Thirteen. We’ll see who’s right.”

The walk down to the medical wing of the building was quick, considering it was just below the offices. The doctor, a wonderful young blonde woman with an accent so thick you could hardly understand her half the time, agreed to come with you to check Marcus out.

“He did seem rather under the weather earlier,” she said as you two walked. “Came in asking for DayQuil.”

You swore under your breath. “I swear, if he’s got something serious I will murder him.”

Thirteen laughed, opening Marcus’s office door. “Oh boy.”

Marcus looked up, yet again, from his desk. He’d been using his arms as a pillow, glasses off once more. “Hey Thirteen.”

“Marcus,” Thirteen chided, going over to stand next to him. He kicked his chair around so he was facing her, letting her do her job. “How’re you feeling?”

“Uh.” Marcus looked from her to you and back again. “Like shit?”

Thirteen sighed, taking her stethoscope out of her coat pocket and setting it around her neck. “Feverish?” She asked, resting her wrist against Marcus’s forehead.

“Little bit.”

“Cough?”

“Yeah.”

“Congested?”

“Definitely.”

Thirteen made a face. “Nausea?”

Marcus started to get nervous, hands twisting in his lap. “Yes?”

“Okay.” Thirteen looked at you. “Take him home, by any means necessary. I’ll tell the boss, but he’s on medical leave for the next week, with recommended bed rest for forty eight hours.”

“What?” Marcus said. “But I don’t feel that bad.”

Thirteen shrugged. “You will. You have the flu, which is unsurprising given the season.”

“Oh.” Marcus looked at his desk, eyeing the folders stacked up on it. “Can I stay and finish my work?”

“No,” you and Thirteen said at the same time.

Marcus sighed. “Fine. I’ll go home. Coming with?” He directed the last question at you, and you nodded.

“Of course. If Missy’s sick too, then someone has to be there to take care of you. Also, I don’t want you driving.”

You managed to herd Marcus to the car with little issue, but he really didn’t look good. You had to repeat yourself three times when you asked him to put his seatbelt on, and he kept getting paler and paler until you were actually really worried.

“We’re gonna make a stop at CVS,” you said, turning into the parking lot. “If you go in, you have to wear a mask.”

Marcus, ever the stubborn hero, staggered to his feet and went somehow even paler, the last bit of color draining from his face as he wobbled in place.

“And we’re gonna leave you here,” you said, standing in front of him and crossing your arms.

“But,” Marcus said, his voice thick with congestion.

You cut him off before he could continue. “You wanna walk by yourself through CVS? Okay, let’s see it then.” You positioned yourself barely ten feet away, maybe three or four steps. Marcus shakily shuffled forward before almost toppling right over. You caught him, turning him back towards the car.

“No, put your hand- oh my god! Marcus!”

Marcus didn’t respond. He’d gone entirely limp in your arms, eyes rolled back. You got him back into the car, and by then, he’d woken back up, still delirious.

“I’m going in,” you said slowly, buckling Marcus back in. “I am cracking the windows and locking the car. Sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

Just as promised, it was the fastest CVS run you’d ever made. Some Gatorade, medication, tissues, Clorox wipes, Lysol spray, and a few cans of soup later, you were back in the car. Marcus looked over, eyes half open. “Huh?”

“If you’re like this,” you said, starting the car. “I hate to think what Missy’s like back home.”

Missy was not as bad as Marcus. Laying on the couch, she barely had the energy to turn her head as you practically carried Marcus inside, but she was conscious, which you appreciated. “Dad?”

You winced at her scratched up voice. “Hey honey,” you said, laying Marcus in his recliner. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like crap,” Missy admitted. “Dad said it was probably just the sniffles or something, but then it got worse.”

Nodding, you handed Missy a box of tissues, nudging the trash can closer to the couch with your foot. “I don’t think it’s just the sniffles this time,” you said. “Where’s the thermometer?”

You took Missy’s temperature. She was at 100.7, which you decided could’ve been so much worse. You gave her a decongestant and a Gatorade, rubbing her back as she coughed violently.

“Marcus,” you said, standing. Marcus hummed in acknowledgment.

“Here.” You handed him the thermometer. “Take your temperature.”

You turned back to Missy, who was zoned out. “Missy, honey, let me clean your blanket.”

She grumbled as you took the filthy blanket, muttering out that she was cold.

“I know you’re feeling cold,” you said, tossing the blanket in the laundry. “But your blanket is dirty. I’ll grab you a clean one.”

As you gave Missy a new blanket, you heard the thermometer beep, Marcus pulling it out of his mouth and looking at it.

“Let me see,” you said, holding a hand out.

Marcus tucked the thermometer to his side. “Just 100, like Missy.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Give me the thermometer.”

“But-“

“Marcus Moreno, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll give me that thermometer.”

Marcus handed the thermometer over, a guilty look on his face.

The thermometer read 101.5.

“Marcus!” You scolded, putting the thermometer down and pressing your wrist to his forehead. Sure enough, he was burning up. “No wonder you passed out earlier!”

Missy looked up. “He passed out?”

“In the CVS,” you said, grabbing another blanket for Marcus. “No biggie.” You really didn’t want to worry her, even though it definitely was a big deal.

By noon, everyone was sound asleep aside from you. You were sitting in the living room with a book, listening to Marcus’s and Missy’s labored breathing. Every so often, Missy would kinda wake up and shift, but Marcus remained solidly asleep until noon.

You put your book down, hearing Missy wake up as you rummaged through the kitchen. Grabbing a saucepan and a can of soup, you began to make lunch.

Missy trudged to her feet, joining you in the kitchen. “Hey.”

“Hey sweetie,” you said, checking her temperature. “Your fever’s finally starting to break.”

Missy perked up a bit at that. “Do I have time to go shower?”

“Sorry,” you said, stirring the soup. “Nope. After lunch though, absolutely.”

Missy ended up eating at the table, her blanket still around her shoulders. You, instead of joining her, did your level best to wake Marcus up.

“Marcus.” You shook his shoulder slightly. “Marcus. Darling. Sweetheart. Light of my fucking life. Missy do not ever repeat that! Marcus! Christ, what the hell?”

Marcus’s eyes cracked open. “The fuck?” He slurred. “Missy, don’t repeat that.”

Missy snorted and left to go bathe.

“I made lunch,” you said, holding up the bowl of soup you’d made for him. “Eat.”

“Not hungry.”

You raised an eyebrow, and yet again, Marcus shrunk back with that horribly guilty look.

“Fine,” he said softly, taking the bowl and fumbling with his spoon. You were on standby, which was a good thing, because barely ten minutes into the small bites of soup, Marcus startled to his feet, fell to his knees, and threw up on the carpet.

“Shit!” You yelled, helping Marcus away from the now dirtied carpet patch. “Oh fuck. Marcus, you okay?”

Marcus shook his head, eyes full of tears.

“Oh baby,” you said softly, hugging him and helping him up onto the couch. “Babe, hey, it was an accident. You’re gonna be okay, you hear me? Just fine. It’ll pass.”

Marcus clung to you, sobbing openly. You rubbed his back, letting him bury himself in your shirt.

At one point, Missy came back, peering into the living room. “Dad?”

You shook your head, waving her away. She glanced from Marcus to the carpet and then back again. “Oh. Okay.”

Eventually, you managed to get Marcus calm. He sniffled, wiping his eyes, and you laid a soft kiss on his forehead. “Marcus, darling, stay here. I’m gonna clean the carpet, okay?”

Marcus nodded, hugging a pillow tight as you got up to grab the cleaning supplies. He watched with half open eyes as you cleaned the carpet, never once complaining.

When you finally stood, he made a small noise, drawing your attention. “I love you.”

You smiled. “I love you too Marcus.”

Everything in the Moreno household was calm throughout the rest of the day. Missy was getting better, able to make a phone call to Anita to reassure her that she and Marcus were okay. Marcus wasn’t feeling much better, so you and him cuddled on the couch, his head resting on your chest as you absently scratched through his hair. He napped for a bit, occasionally waking up and complaining he felt gross. You pointed out that he was still sick and encouraged him to drink more Gatorade before he fell asleep again.

Dinner was more soup, at which Marcus complained.

“Oh hush,” you said, putting the bowl in front of him. “Do not waste your voice complaining about soup you cannot taste.”

Marcus stuck his tongue out at you and took another bite of soup.

Missy went to bed shortly after dinner, the sickness sapping her energy. You sent her off with a kiss to the forehead and a promise to call the school and tell them she wouldn’t be going tomorrow.

“And you, mister,” you said, sitting next to Marcus on the couch and turning on Wheel of Fortune. “Aren’t going to work for the next week.”

“What?”

You smiled, feeling Marcus shuffle and lay in your lap. “You heard Thirteen this morning. Medical leave for a week.”

Marcus sighed, relaxing as you rubbed his shoulders. “Fine.”

Somehow, you two fell asleep on the couch, curled up in each other’s embrace. When you woke up the next morning, Marcus felt a bit better. But you had started to sniffle.

“Ha! Payback’s a bitch!” Marcus said when you took your temperature and sighed.

“Marcus. Sit the hell down before you pass out again.”

Marcus sat on the couch, a shit eating grin on his face. “Mhm. Kiss me.”

You raised an eyebrow, crawling across the couch until you were practically on top of Marcus. “Hmm,” you hummed, feeling his body heat underneath you. “Kissing you is what got me sick. I think not.”

You rolled off him, leaving one very betrayed boyfriend behind on the couch.

“Hey wait! You can’t just leave!”

Looking behind you, you smiled as sweetly as you could. “What? I don’t recall doing anything wrong Mr. Moreno.”

Marcus’s face twisted into a feral grin. “Oh you are so lucky that Missy’s in her room. Get over here.”

You laughed as he scooped you up, carrying you to your bedroom. “Marcus! You’re still sick! Be careful!”

Marcus plopped you down on the bed and quickly followed, trapping you under the warm blankets with his own body. “Get some rest,” he said softly. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Oh Marcus,” you said, thumbing over the patches in his facial hair. “I love you.”

“Love you too babe, now get some sleep.”

Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell

#we can be heroes #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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