#sigh i've been doing this since before it was called fictober

[captainsophiestark]

Ghosts

Matt Donovan x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Day 28 Prompt: "I may not get another chance to say this."

Summary: The scene where Matt jumps into the pool for a near-death experience, but with his SO instead of Bonnie.

Word Count: 1,288

Category: Angst, Fluff at the end

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I was busy digging through a school supply closet in the middle of the night when my phone rang. I jumped at the noise, adrenaline pumping at having snuck into the high school in the dead of night with my friends. It was for senior prank night, so it's not like we would get in terrible trouble if we got caught, but still.

I ditched the rolls of toilet paper I'd been gathering to spread all over the school and grabbed my phone to see my boyfriend, Matt Donovan, staring back at me from the caller ID. I quickly answered.

"Matt, good news, I found the tp jackpot."

"Y/N... you remember the summer we met, working as life guards together at the town pool?"

I furrowed my brow, scooping a few rolls of toilet paper into my free hand as I responded.

"Yeah..."

"And you remember the hours we spent in classes getting CPR certified?"

"Unfortunately, yeah."

"Well... I'm gonna need you to put it to good use. I'm at the pool. I know this is gonna sound crazy, but... I think Vicki is trying to talk to me."

"What? Matt, what the hell are you talking about?"

I dropped the rolls of toilet paper and shut the closet door, then started heading for the pool.

"Jeremy told me he's been able to see ghosts since Bonnie brought him back from the dead," he said. I sped up, panic setting in a little at the tone in his voice.

"Matt, I'm not magic. And Bonnie barely managed to bring Jeremy back-"

"You don't need magic for CPR. I know you'll save me."

"Matthew Grant Donovan, don't you dare-"

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but I have to do this. If Vicki needs my help... I can't leave her. I trust you to save me."

"Matt, you're being insane!" I'd started running for the pool now, still not totally sure what Matt was thinking but definitely sure it wasn't good.

"I trust you to save me," he repeated. "But listen... just in case... I may not get another chance to say this, so... I love you. A lot. And after everybody I've lost, I can't tell you how happy I am to have you in my life."

"Whatever the hell you're thinking of doing, Donovan, don't-"

The call ended. I swore and shoved my phone into my pocket before doubling my pace. I slammed through the doors to the school's pool a few moments later and found Matt's shoes and keys at the pool's edge. I looked into the pool and found a shape floating near the bottom. Matt.

The kind of calm that only comes in a crisis washed over me, and I chucked off every layer of clothing I could easily lose before diving into the pool, using my momentum to reach Matt faster at the bottom. He'd strapped a weight around his stomach, the dumbass, and I quickly unfastened it before wrapping my arms around his waist and pushing upwards, shoving both feet off the bottom of the pool. Matt was heavy, but we rose quickly, and the urgency of the situation gave me the little extra strength I needed to heave him over the edge of the pool and onto dry land.

I took deep breaths as I leapt out of the pool, turning Matt over and checking for a pulse. I breathed a half sigh of relief when I found one, weak and thready though it was. I leaned over to check if he was breathing next, and found he wasn't. I didn't waste a second before calmly tipping Matt's head back, pinching his nose, and giving him two rescue breaths. I watched carefully to see his chest rise with my breath, then leaned back for a moment before doing another round.

I kept going, that emergency calm just starting to fray when Matt jerked awake, sitting up straight and looking at me wildly. He'd almost headbutted me right in the face he'd moved so fast and so suddenly, but thankfully I managed to rock back on my heels before he could make contact. We both sat still for a few moments, staring at each other with wide eyes while the adrenaline rushed through us, and then I punched Matt in the arm, hard.

"Ow! What the hell?" he cried, rubbing at his arm. He was dripping wet and still struggling to catch his breath a little, but the wave of calm had completely receded, and it had been replaced by pure anger.

"That's my line!" I screamed, smacking Matt a few more times, albeit with less force. "What the hell were you thinking? How could you do that to me? Do you know how horrifying it was to come in here and see you at the bottom of that pool? To think I might lose you? That I might fail, and you would die?"

"I'm sorry-"

"Not good enough! I get that Vicki is important to you, and you're still dealing with her death, but-"

"I saw her! I saw her, Y/N. She gave me a message for Bonnie."

I sighed heavily and closed my eyes, trying to get better control of my temper before I spoke again. After a second, I met Matt's wide blue eyes.

"Matt, you should've gone to Bonnie first. Or Jeremy. Or done literally any of about a thousand things before you tried to drown yourself, leaving me with a phone call and nightmares for the rest of my life about your dead body."

He looked down, guilty, shaking his head a little. I just sighed, sinking down onto the pool floor to sit next to him. We stayed like that for a few long moments, shoulder to shoulder and both of us processing. Finally, Matt looked at me again, distress written on every inch of his face.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. And I know that's not nearly enough for what I did, but... I hope it's at least a start. Everything that happened with Vicki... I think about it every day. I think about her every day. And I got so wrapped up in the chance at seeing her again that I didn't even think about putting you in the same position. I know it's too late to take back what I did but... I swear, I'll never do anything like that to you again."

I sighed, flopping my head onto Matt's shoulder. He wrapped his arm around me, and although we were both soaking wet and I'd started to get a little chilled, it didn't seem important right now.

"Never again, Matt? You swear?"

"I swear. On everything that's ever been important to me, I swear."

I nodded, still not picking my head up from his shoulder.

"Then okay. I can forgive you, and we can get through this. But seriously Matt, talk to me first next time. And then we'll talk to everyone else, and then we'll figure out a better plan than the one you just came up with."

"Deal."

"Good. Now let's get out of here and change into some dry clothes. Then we can find Bonnie and do whatever we can to help your sister."

Matt and I stood together, leaning on each other as we headed out of the room. No matter how many stupid plans he came up with, it didn't change the face that I loved him. We'd find a way to figure things out, no matter how weird Mystic Falls got.

Although, if I said I wasn't looking forward to leaving this town after graduating at the end of the year... I'd definitely be lying. Hopefully with a few more disasters like this, I'd be able to convince Matt it was worth it to leave too.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[not-krys]

WIP Wednesday: Perfect Strangers

I had wanted to do this for Fictober this year, but couldn't finish it in time for Comte's bday.

However, since his bday falls on a Wednesday this year, this month's WIP Wednesday will be that WIP instead of my usual fare of putting my OCs into situations.

Normal warnings apply: Raw, unfinished writing, based on the Perfect Strangers AU event

Check out my masterlist!

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"Your eyes are wandering again, Monsieur."

Comte, shaken out of his reverie, turned back to the lady at the table as she sipped her lemonade. The lady that was going to be his fiancée, he thought with a sigh.

"She's on an errand in town." The lady giggled. "If you stay until evening, you're bound to catch a glance of her before you leave."

"Mademoiselle, forgive my rudeness. It seems my attention lingers elsewhere this afternoon."

"As well as every other time you've visited the manor. If I didn't know any better, I would believe you seek the eye of someone else in this household. My lady maid, perhaps?"

Comte paused, caught red-handed, but she seemed to hold only amusement in her gaze.

"You're not exactly subtle about it, sir."

"…Again, I must ask for your forgiveness-"

"No need. She has a tender heart. It catches your attention in a way nothing else does. Trust me, I understand."

"You do?"

"She's been like an older sister to me for as long as I've known her. And she is easy on the eyes."

"Mademoiselle, I didn't mean-"

"Again, you overestimate your ability to be inconspicuous, especially when it comes to her. It's quite charming."

She folded her hands, resting her chin on their bridge.

"Anyway, we are alone right now, so I would like to discuss some things with you, without the prying ears of my parents and to spare the feelings of my dear maid."

"Yes." Comte cleared his throat. "The venue, perhaps? I have a list of locations that would be-"

"I want to call off the marriage."

"…Pardon?"

"I want to call it off."

"…Mademoiselle?"

"Just as your eyes search for a soul that isn't here at present, I'm afraid I'm just as preoccupied. A lovely baker's daughter in town. My parents would never approve."

"So, we are in the same boat?"

"Loving another when we are supposed to be loving each other? Precisely."

Comte looked down, thinking about their predicament.

"It's the reason I called you here, le Comte." said the lady, "I want to give you my blessing to court my maid, but, circumstances being what they are, we are at an impasse."

She pushed her empty glass aside and pushed forward an envelope.

"However, what's in this envelope might be the solution to our problem."

"What's this?"

"Documents pertaining to my dear maid. How she came into my family's service when she was a young girl. The articles are only part of the story, I'm afraid. I was caught before I could complete my investigation and was reprimanded for digging in places I shouldn't have. Which is why I'm handing them over to you. To finish what I couldn't."

Comte opened the envelope, taking out the old papers with care. Some were ledger copies from the house when the lady was in her infancy, inventory mostly, employment papers, and, oddly enough, what seemed to be personal letters to the lady's father addressed from a person with a woman's name. It wasn't the lady's mother's name either. Comte frowned.

"Specifically, that name mentioned in Father's letters comes up a few times. I would like to find out who she is… or was, if my hunch is correct."

"And if your hunch is correct?"

"Then both of us will get what we want, with some arm twisting along the way."

Now it was Comte's turn to look amused.

"You would do anything for her, wouldn't you?"

"And you wouldn't? After searching for her all this time?"

"I would take down all the stars in the sky and place them in her hands if it would make her smile."

"Good answer." The lady stood up. "I wish you luck in the investigation. Pray that you have more luck than I have been having."

She walked towards the door.

"And, I would appreciate it if you would keep this a secret from [Name]. At least until you finish the search."

"I will. And thank you, mademoiselle."

She smiled.

"I want her to be happy, just as you undoubtedly do. Make her happy, Monsieur, as I know where Father keeps his rifles and his keys."

"…You are quite frightening when you want to be, dear."

"Only when I need to be." She blew him a cheeky kiss and stepped out the room to get more lemonade.

-----

Another month had passed before Comte returned to the little mansion on the hill, hearing the excited, bubbly voice of the lady that had once been his fiancée. She was telling someone with a soft voice about how she wasn't engaged anymore. The gasp of horror from his beloved's lips, while it pulled at his heartstrings to hear her heart ache for her mistress and friend, he also couldn't help but feel proud of his accomplishment.

He had turned around a marriage proposal once aimed at his beloved's mistress now it was a promise he wanted to give to his true beloved, the sweet maid he had danced with once upon a time.

[leiascully]

OctoberFicFest Day 2: Tea and Coffee

Tagging @xffictober

The first time she wakes up next to Mulder, she stays very still for a moment.  Well.  She’s woken up next to him a hundred times before, but never naked in her bed.  She savors the precious fragile moment of peace.  She thought she would be nervous, or afraid, or regretful; instead, joy bubbles up inside her, percolating through all the layers of defenses she’s built over the years.  None of them strong enough to withstand one lonely whim, it seems: a pair of forest-green eyes, a pair of warm and agile hands, and the voice that sounds like home to her.

She lies next to the slumbering warmth of him for long minutes, cozy under the covers.  He has not stolen the duvet in his sleep, or thrown a possessively oppressive arm over her.  Just his hand is pressed to her shoulder, and when she shifts, he nestles further into the covers.  She eases out of bed and wraps herself in her robe, not bothering to put any clothes on.  This is, for the time being, her Eden.  She will let herself be innocent and unashamed.  

In the bathroom, she tries to flush quietly.  She brushes her teeth and splashes a little water on her face.  Her own eyes look bright.  The crease between her brows has smoothed away.  She goes to the kitchen and puts the kettle on.  While the water boils, she measures coffee into a pour over filter.  Her mother always made pour over coffee for her father, when he came back from the sea.  Sometimes he would let her have a sip.  It tasted richer than the drip coffee they usually made, more like the sun and the earth that had made it.  She saves it for special occasions.  She only has one filter, but she can make two cups of coffee, for the two of them.  Or maybe she’ll make one, and they can pass it back and forth between them, just something to sustain them before they pull themselves together and go out to face the world.  She’d like a big plate of eggs and hash browns, a rare craving.

The kettle begins to whistle and she pulls it off the heat before it can scream and wake him.  She pours the water in a careful stream over the grounds.  The steam rises, curling the wisps of hair around her face.  The scent of the coffee wafts up, smelling like devotion and faraway lands.  She inhales deeply and smiles.  She sets the kettle back on the stove and pulls a second mug out of the cupboard.  Her eyes pass over the box of teabags on the counter and a cold uncertainty grips the back of her neck.  She’s had coffee with Mulder many Saturday mornings, but never after moaning his name in the middle of the night as he swore, over and over, that he loved her, that he needed her, that he’d been waiting all his life to be in her arms.  What if he prefers tea, the morning after he makes passionate love to someone?  What if it’s a taste he cultivated in England, in Oxford, in an old building on a misty morning with a lithe brunette stirring lemon into her own cup?  She hesitates, retrieves a bag of English Breakfast from the box (surely Earl Grey is too trite, Constant Comment too tea party-ish), and sets it on the counter.  There.  Her bases are covered.  

Mulder pads into the kitchen and wraps his arms around her from behind, setting his chin on her shoulder as if they’ve been doing this for years, waking up together in cozy domesticity.  He sniffs exaggeratedly, nuzzling into her hair, and it’s all so perfectly normal, and yet still perfectly delightful.  

“Coffee?” he says in a raspy voice.  “I knew I loved you.”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted tea,” she says.  

“The coffee smells amazing,” he says.  “Special blend?”

“No,” she says.  “Just pour over instead of drip.  My mother used to make it this way, sometimes.”

“Pour over coffee and thee,” he says softly, still holding her.  “Scully...do you want to go eat hash browns with me?”

“More than anything,” she says.

[krys-loves-otome]

Manuscript Tag Game!

I was tagged by @tsundere-mitsuhide and thought this would be fun to do!

Basically, you get four words and post a work of yours (I'm assuming either published or from a wip that hasn't been posted yet), then tag four other people with four words of your own for them to find in their own manuscripts.

My words from Taz are: Hair, Kiss, Kind, and Bright

Since I don't have a single piece that contains all four of these words, I'm just gonna repost some stuff I've only posted to Discord and share some scrapped ideas that never went anywhere but I held onto them in case I wanted to use them for something else later on. I'll put a brief description before each to explain what they were (Discord snippet, scrapped fictober ideas, stuff like that)

I'm gonna tag @scummy-writes, @loptyrs, @lorei-writes, and @kamesama

Your words are: Rain, Eager, Avoid, Lace

Have fun, loves!

Writings below the cut~

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Hair

This was a scrapped idea of my OC Ophelia meeting up with her captor, Kennyo, after she had escaped from Azuchi during the night. She isn't in the best place, mentally, during this snippet. Shared previously on discord (but it's been a while).

A light jingle of metal woke her, heavy footsteps echoing against the walls of her 'prison'.

The demon monk, he called himself, had seen fit to capture her, because of her connection to Nobunaga.  

That's how it started out anyway.

"It is morning," he stated plainly. "Wake up."

With a sigh, she sat up, turning her eyes to him, pushing back white hairs from her face.

"As if the passage of time matters to me." her lips, pale without the presence of rouge to tint it, frowned heavily. "Leave me be, monk. Your goodwill prayers are wasted on me. Spare me the pity and give my head to that bastard Nobunaga, if it so pleases you."

He seemed taken aback by her harsh words but refused to let it show on his face.

"Nonsense. I need you alive. What good is a dead hostage but extra baggage?"

She laughed dryly, not disagreeing with him.

"I suppose so." She reached back to fix her hair, finding most of her pins gone, her hair only staying up by sheer gravity at this point. With another sigh, she loosed it, letting the long locks cascade down in wavy white rivers and started to comb through it with her fingers, searching for the remaining pins. "I'm sure he doesn't appreciate his toys being returned to him broken and in pieces."

If she chose to take a moment to look at her companion, she would have noted the faint red on his cheeks.   

When she finally did, he had returned to normal.

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Kiss

This was a challenge presented on discord, where we did one of those image randomizers with the ikevamp suitors that denote one of them as one thing or another, like your best friend, your enemy, your lover, etc. Then, if we wanted to, we could write or draw out the scenario where that kind of scenario would be possible.

My first spin, I'm sure that didn't do it right, but, hilariously... all of my entries were Sebas. Literally all of them. Sebastian across the board.

Then I decided to write out the scenario anyway because the idea was funny and I was just gonna roll with it.

"Run away with you?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at your sorcerer-guardian, Sebastian. Small water droplets were floating above his hand and freezing in midair. As they grew heavy and fell, they landed on a grey handkerchief in Sebastian's awaiting hand. When he had enough droplets, he bundled up the handkerchief and returned to your side, pressing the icy compress to your stinging cheek.

"It may be your last chance at freedom, my lady," Sebastian said, "before your father gives you away to that… that pig of a man."

"But you would be painting yourself as the villain, Sebastian. A once dear friend to the princess turned royal traitor by stealing her away…"

"Truthfully, dear lady, I became a villain the second I saw this bruise on your cheek." He sighed, "if only I had come to your aid sooner."

You reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"You've done so much for me over the years already, I can't even begin to thank you enough."

He pulled the ice pack away briefly so he could kiss you softly. When he pulled away, he was smiling.

"I suppose I could ask for your hand in marriage after running away from your tyrant father, the King?"

Kind

A different idea from Fictober last year for Comte's bday, before I settled on what ultimately became Fais de Beaux Rêves. I think I had recently watched Back to the Future Part 3 at the time, which gave me the idea of sending a letter from 100 years in the past to the future. I think I had seen some spoilers for Comte's route too, thus leading to the start of this. So, warnings for Comte's route spoilers

Wiping your eyes for the thousandth time, you looked over the letter again, the words engraved into your mind at this point. The soft spots from your tears did little to the ink, thankfully, but you still tried to be careful handling it. Warm salty tears weren't good for paper older than your great-grandmother.

Taking a shaky breath, you read it again, your chin trembling with the urge to cry.

"My dearest [Name],

If Isaac's calculations are correct, this letter should reach you in time after arriving back in your present-day, barring any natural disasters or any other unfortunate or unseen incidents that cause this letter's destruction or delay.

As much as I would love to deliver this letter personally, no, to see you again and express everything with spoken words rather than the flowery prose expressed through this pen, the door to the future has not opened for me as of late. An odd occurrence, to be sure, but do not fret, ma cherie. We are all here, putting our heads together to find a way to bring you back home, even the most stubborn of us.

My sincerest hope is that you are well and have spent too many tears of loneliness, especially when I am not there to wipe them away. The fact that you are away from me, in a place I can't reach you, it pains me to think of you crying and alone. And do not think for a moment your kind presence is not missed here. The number of times I've caught the others (and myself) doing things out of habit thanks to your touches both endears me and frustrates me in the same breath.

Bright

Another scrapped Fictober idea, based on (I think) Masamune's romantic ending, where they escaped Kennyo by jumping off a cliff and land in the water below.

Rough pebbles rubbing and scraping against your side and Masamune's ragged breathing were your indicators that both of you were indeed still alive. With one final heave, he pulled both of you out of the water and onto the awaiting shore.

You shivered and coughed, the night air pulled what little warmth remained inside of you, your soaked clothes like weights holding you down like cinderblocks over your body.

Still, you both survived, thankfully. Your second time diving off a cliff into an awaiting body of water was no better than your first time doing it, but at least Masamune had been there both times to pull your panicked self out of the water.

Your savior, laying on his back while catching his breath, looked over at you, his bright blue eye lighted by concern and moonlight.

"You all right there, Lass?" he asked, his voice raspy and strained.

You took a breath, your chest was sore and tight, but otherwise, you were fine.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Good."

He turned his gaze up to the sky, look up at the crystal-like stars, no clouds blocking the view. Overall, a surprisingly calm ending to your previous adventure.