#I've had too much hurt/comfort in my fics lately I needed this to be FULL COMFORT. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yandere-himiko-toga · 8 months

Note

Hii! Could I please req an Ike Eveland and Luca Kaneshiro x femme reader fic? 😭😭 probably something like angst,hurt/comfort. Sorry, if you're uncomfortable with those,you can write anything else you'd like as well

Yeah of course~! I apologize for not seeing your request sooner! I've been a little busy but of course I can do that! I'll post it here and on my alt account @spirit-girl-nijisanji ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

I'm sorry, I've been distant...

Don't ever talk about her like that!

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

➼ Pairing - Ike Eveland & Luca Kaneshiro x Fem!Reader (seperately)

➼ Content - Angst/hurt to comfort, mentions of insecurities, established relationships, Ike being a soft boy and Luca being well... Luca <3

➼ ⚠️ Please remember I only write for the personas you see on your screen. I do not and will not write for the people behind the models. Please also remember that behind the models there are very real people with very real emotions. Please be respectful towards our beloved Nijisanji EN livers and do your best to separate the real people from the persona reflected on your screen. Thank you so much and enjoy the story ⚠️

➼ Summery; Overworking and snapping on you causes some issues... ꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Ike Eveland

➼ You are one of the only solo vtubers within Nijisanji EN. You debuted as Kitsune vtuber brought from another world to watch over young children and grant luck to those who deserve it. You had been a big hit within Niji, the other talents and you got along very well and you ended up bonding deeply with a certain novelist.

The collabs you did with Ike were always full of fun and laughter, it wasn't long before the shipping began within the quilldren and your fd/n (fandom name). You and Ike always just claimed to be friends but behind the scenes, there was something much more going on. You and Ike had began dating after two months of you being Nijisanji.

Everything was going amazing in your eyes, you trusted Ike with your life and he trusted you with his. There was no trust issues and he had been helping you through so many struggles. You had always been insecure about yourself but he made you feel beautiful and loved.

You and Ike had been dating a year when you moved to live with him permanently and you loved it. A very fond memory of yours was how your friends found out about you and Ike; he had been in a discord call with the rest of Luxiem, you two hadn't told anything about your relationship yet. Not realizing he was unmuted in the call, you had come into his room to bring him a plate of caviar toast.

" Babe, here's your snack! I figured you would be hungry. " you beamed walking over to his desk and setting down the plate before giving him a kiss on the cheek.

The moment the word Babe left your lips, Ike froze. Realizing he hadn't been muted and the chatter from his genmates had completely stopped.

" IS THAT Y/N?! " the voice of the bri'ish detective rang out in your ears and you two froze seeing Ike hadn't muted himself and you just outted your relationship to his friends.

You and Ike planned to tell them, just not yet but it was a little too late..

" Hah.. Hi guys. " you spoke sheepishly. Multiple voices erupting into questions about when you got together, why didn't you tell them sooner.

After that day, the rest of Niji EN knew about your relationship and it was also revealed to the fans too, by you and Ike of course, which was met by a lot of positivity which warmed your heart.

But.. as of late, Ike seemed to always be shut in his streaming room. You hardly saw him anymore and he hardly ever slept in your shared bedroom. You had started to get concerned about him but anytime you tried to talk to him, he would wave you off and say that was busy and didn't need the distraction.

The confrontation that led to the current situation was when you had finally had enough of him avoiding you and being locked in his office all day, was the day he snapped at you;

You opened his door to see him hunched over his desk working on collab and stream ideas as well as a new novel, the dark circles under his eyes evident. You were worried sick so you walked over and you spun his chair around to face you, only to be met by Ike's irritated green eyes,

" Y/N I told you that I was busy and not to come into my office didn't I? " he said in a tired but frustrated tone

" I know but Ike you've been locked in this office for days, I hardly see you anymore. It wouldn't kill you take a break. " You retorted, worry etched on your face

Ike let out an irritated sigh, he looked up at you and brushed your hands off his chair turning back to his desk to continue his work,

" Y/N I am busy please leave my room. "

You glared at him and grabbed the back of Ike's chair and started dragging it to his door before he shot up out of his chair and grabbed onto your wrist, his green eyes now glaring down at you angrily before yelling,

" Y/N I SAID I'M BUSY! " he snapped gripping your wrist

" I CAME IN BECAUSE I'M WORRIED IKE! " You snapped back

" NO! YOUR GETTING IN MY WAY! " He snapped, not registering that what came out of his mouth

Your eyes went wide, feeling your eyes watering, the tone of his voice caused you to flinch before you ripped your wrist out of Ike's grip and you rushed out of his room, slamming the door behind you, leaving Ike standing in his room. You sprinted into the shared bedroom you shared with Ike, slamming the door and locking the door before your back hit the door and you slid down to the floor and curdled up, hugging your knees and burying your face in your knees. The tears that had come up in your eyes now began to slip down your cheeks.

Those intrusive thoughts started to creep up, 'is he getting tired of me?', 'Am I really getting in his way?', 'Why is he still with me?', 'I'm not worth his time..' you sat in the dark in the dark room trying to calm down. But now you felt you weren't good enough for to be with Ike. Maybe you were really getting in the way.

You spent 2 weeks after he finally finished with his work ignoring him. He noticed immediately. He tried to talk to you and apologize for his actions.

" Älskling.. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything I said.. Please talk to me. " Ike followed you around the house trying to get you to talk to him. But you ignored him.

He figured it was time to give you space so he did. He constantly noticed your spiral. All the confidence you once had, was gone. He knew it was his fault for saying what he said. But it all came to a boil when he found you sitting on the kitchen floor at 1 am in tears,

" Y/N?! Are you okay? " he asked, concern lacing his voice as he dropped down to your side and pulling you into a tight hug.

" Why are you even with me.. I know I'm always in your way! " you said starting to fight against his hug however he refused to let go, he hugged you tight. Keeping you tight in his arms. Now whispering to you, telling you that he loved you and he never meant anything he said.

You cried into his shoulder as you listened to him tell you over and over again that he loved you and he thought you were perfect to him. ꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Luca Kaneshiro

➼ You were a new nijisanji liver that came into nijisanji with a new wave, xsoleil along with Doppio Dropsythe, Hex Haywire, Ver Vermillion, Kotoka Torahime and Meloco Kyoran. The first person you had met when you joined Nijisanji was the one and only Luca Kaneshiro.

When you finally started doing livestreams regularly, most of your collabs ended up being with the mob boss. You adored his Lucubs and you knew he adored your fans. Your livestream collabs with Luca were always filled with chaos and laughter along with Lucubs and your fans saying they wish you and Luca would just get together already. You and Luca playfully flirted back and fourth all the time, well you flirted with Luca and he wouldn't pick up on it.

It was the one year anniversary from your debut and you were doing a collab playing Valorant, Xsoleil VS Luxiem. The teams had switched up after the first 4 rounds, now you, Luca, Doppio, Shu and Hex were on a team against, Vox, Ike, Mysta, Kotoka, Meloco and Ver. The round started and it was all going smoothly until you made a flirty remark towards Luca and it completely went over his head. After being taken down by Ver, you turned to read some of the superchats that came in, thanking them one by one before one completely stopping, silently reading one and you felt your heart completely shatter;

Superchat; Luca'sCape221: Seriously stop making advances towards him. He doesn't like you! Like damn. Why haven't you graduated yet, why are you still here?

You were silent for a good few minutes before the voice of Doppio snapped you out of your trance,

" Hey, VT/N (Vtuber name), You okay? " He asked making you jump before speaking,

" What? Oh um yeah I'm fine Dopi! " you replied quickly, " I have to take a quick bathroom break! " you quickly added before muting and running off to the bathroom.

~ NO ONE'S POV ~

Doppio thought it was odd that you just ran off, so when both he and Luca were killed, he started talking to Luca,

" Hey Luca, do you mind checking on VT/N's stream, she went silent while reading superchats. I think something happened. " he told the blond haired mafia boss who took action almost immediately. Turning on your stream and reading through before finding the superchats that followed with many nasty comments.

Seeing the nasty remarks from multiple people about you made his blood boil. He had only recently found out about your actual feelings and he felt the same he just didn't know how to tell you. When the match was over, he asked everyone to wait for a moment until you got back so he could say something.

~ Your POV ~

You spent a good long time in the bathroom in tears, the words from the superchat bouncing around in your mind. You tried to compose yourself so you could rejoin the collab, before you pulled up your stream and looked at the chat, seeing the flood of nasty remarks coming in, you broke down again.

After a moment, you decided to return to stream. Putting your headphones on and unmuting yourself as you spoke saying you were ready for the next game, internally groaning hearing the shaking in your voice when you spoke. Before anyone could say anything else Luca spoke up,

" Actually I wanna say something before we continue, it's important. " he spoke and everyone went silent so Luca could speak.

" Okay so, while VT/N was gone on her bathroom break, I looked at her chat. I wanna say that I am absolutely disgusted by how many nasty comments there were about her. For your information, I do happen to like her so let's shut that down right now. " He spoke in a very stern tone,

The group went completely silent, you didn't even notice that tears started to fall once again listening to Luca rant and scold those who left nasty comments in your chat.

" I do not want to see any other nasty comments like that in her chat again and I will be checking. If I see so much as one, you'll be banned by ME personally. " the normally bubbly blond said, remembering you had made him a mod in your chat. The comments filled with comforting words from both your own fanbase and Lucubs. You sniffled, catching the attention of your teammate, Shu.

" Hey, don't cry VT/N.. We got your back. " He told you in a soothing voice followed by the comforting words from your other friends and genmates. Through the chaos, you heard your phone beep, looking down, you looked at the notification and saw Luca's name;

Discord chat: Lucar Kaneshiroe: Hey, I meant what I said. I do really like you. VT/N: I... really..? Lucar Kaneshiroe: Yeah! Hey, I'm gonna have you fly up to see me so we can go on a proper date! :3

You felt your cheeks heat up while reading the messages,

Discord chat: VT/N: Y...you really don't have to do that Luca, I could pay my own way to see you! Lucar Kaneshiroe: Nope! I'm gonna pay for you to come and spend a couple weeks! " VT/N: There's no talking you out of this is there? Lucar Kaneshiroe: Nope! VT/N: Well okay but um.. we're not done with the collab Luca Lucar Kaneshiroe: ... SHIT!

You turned back to the collab, both you and Luca apologized for going silent and the collab continued, every time you noticed a nasty comment come up, it disappeared just as fast as it popped up. And each time a chat from a certain someone popped up;

Luca Kaneshiro [NIJISANJI EN]: Not today satan! VT/N IS POG! Don't tall about her like that!

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

I hope you like it~! I dunno if it's as good as it could be but I did my best~!

#nijisanji en #niji en #luxiem #luca kaneshiro #ike eveland #nijisanji en x reader #ike eveland x reader #luca kaneshiro x reader

44 notes · View notes

revelisms · 15 days

Text

Who's ready for Emeritus family messiness? (It's me. Constantly, apparently.)

I have lots of feelings on Secondo trying to be a "good" big brother in the shadow Primo left behind, and not quite knowing if he ever lived up to it. In short: these two have an unplanned (and needed) heart-to-heart on this.

This is now also the first of several roadtrip fic ideas, for some reason, which means I'm 1) thinking too much about what cars they drive, and 2) trying to put some pin on the map for where the Ministry could be. Lately, I've been running with something around the Veneto region of Italy, more on the inland side in the valleys.

I imagine the Ministry would be housed in a physical place that is only known and visible to a select few within access of the Church; however, those living on the grounds can and often do leave for business in neighboring towns (aka: running Nihil's errands, like these two are (attemptingly) doing here).

a handful of repairs

2.5k words | Rating: T | Secondo-Centric | CWs: Dysfunctional family dynamics, arguing, language, anger issues, parentification, referenced smoking/drinking, hurt/comfort. Also on AO3

The sun, broiling as the unmasked heavens, has seemed to lay a personal vendetta against him, today—or, rather, against the ancient engine of his Ferrari. The tight-wired thing had crapped out not fifteen minutes into their drive to Padua, and the following thirty he had spent greased to the elbows, engine smoke coughed in his face, attempting to tame the overheated arteries back to normal.

Primo's shadow looms over his shoulder. "Is it shot?"

"No, no—she is just a...temperamental thing—"

"Temperamental. It is worse than the door to the old cellars."

Secondo squeaks a gloved hand off the hood. "She's mine," he gristles, leveling a pointed leer at his brother. "You all complain about it, every time you get in the Hellfucking car—but I bought her with my own money, eh? If I want to tinker with the damned thing for the rest of my life, then I'm going to tinker with it."

Beside him, Primo scuffs a breath through his teeth, fanning the unbuttoned collar of his cassock over his neck. "So long as you don't strand us on the side of the road." He pauses, taking in the endless stretch of gravel that cooks beneath their feat, and lifts a wiry brow. "Ah. Have I spoken too soon?"

A crowfoot wrenches over a stubborn gear. The metal squeals.

Countless summers of this. Satan forbid if he'll ever live this one down: the esteemed Monsignor Emeritus and the unpainted head of the Satanic Church, bickering like ravens in the middle of bum-fuck Veneto.

He smears the sweat off his brow.

"You must have named it, with as much pride as you pour into the thing."

"Rosalina."

"Lucifer forbid, you have." Primo kneads a weary touch over his brow. "One can only hope I was kidding."

"Will you shut up."

"Shall I send for Nihil?"

Secondo finally gets the wretched coolant cap back on. "May as well send for the cavalry."

"Terzo, then?"

The thought makes him smear a streak of oil down his cheek.

He can see his younger brother's shit-eating grin already, the tires of his black-glossed coupe scraping to a halt at their feet, a ringed hand dangling out the window. He'd be chewing their ear off about needing full-time nursing care, the entire ride to town.

"I'll wring his neck," Secondo spits, clapping the wrench over the engine. "It just—it needs time to cool off, alright? It's fixed. It'll be fine."

"So you say."

The leather of his gloves sticks to his palms like cling-wrap. He peels them off, with a scowl. "All I'm asking you to do is wait."

"I do believe you're the one whose patience the Olde One is testing, Brother."

Maybe it's the heat, the fields swaying in a green-gold blur, the droning void of the cloudless sky baking down on them like under-proofed dough.

Maybe it's the fact that, since his Ascension, he's hardly had scant minutes he could scrub together to call his own—even the ones snatched in backstage rooms and buried in the sweet fawnings of women's necks.

Maybe it's that even the thought of Terzo having to pick up the pieces, as he himself had been shackled to do throughout the entirety of his quick-lived youth, sets his blood boiling.

His gloves squeak beneath his palm.

"I've done enough waiting," he grumbles, and pushes off from the car.

He feels his brother's fish-pale eyes on him like a brand. "And what is that supposed to mean?" Primo prods, eventually.

The sweat at his neck leaves his fingers tacky. He smears at it, again. "What it means."

It's childish. Not the time, or the place. He knows it—just as well as he knows that Terzo has already been picking up the cracked shards of their lives, for years now: forced to bear the mantle Primo had left behind, with his own donned silks and staff, that Secondo himself had stepped into like a pair of misfitted boots.

A not-father, a near-mother. A patient nurturer. A loving thing.

All traits he'd never been; that Terzo, by his own doomed attempts, had never received.

By the time Copia is handed that mantle, the little rat will have nothing left to care for. Only himself, on the stage of Nihil and Sister's own expectations. Not that he supposes it matters.

Their youngest had rarely come to him for anything, in his earlier days. He must have learned enough, through the quick-tongued jibes of his idiot brother, that there was no living soul to come to: not for advice, for care, for any of it.

Primo, eyes averted, muddles his fingers over his sleeve. "You strand us, and start up with this?"

"Forget it," Secondo grumbles. He grinds his heel into the pebbled dust beneath his feet.

"You brought it up."

"I didn't bring anything up—"

"This is about me, yes?" Silver-blue and moon-white cut through the air between them: linger with hawkish steadiness on the lines that twitch through Secondo's cheek. "Go on. Say it." Primo flicks a bony hand, his mouth thin. "Little else for us to do, it seems."

Secondo narrows his eyes on his boots. Squeezes his tongue into his teeth.

Primo takes the silence for what it's worth. After a moment, he clears his throat. "I did what I had to," he hushes. A breeze chases again through the fields, rustling the long slopes of their silks. "You know that."

Of course he knows that.

"You left us," he cuts back—because he knows that, more.

Primo lifts his eyes. Silent, frigid, as always. "I didn't have a choice."

"You chose to stick me with them."

And he shouldn't care, is the vile thing: that he'd been left in the flamepit of Nihil's and Sister's verbal jousts; the remaining Elder to their Church-bolstered strategies and financial debts, their global visions for a house already cracked at the foundation. Left to be the Shield to Terzo's cat-eyed staring, too perceptive from the shadows, trapped since birth in a shell far too small for the soul of him. To fill the unwilling Could-Be to the fire-haired thing Sister had carried through their chapel doors, like a child birthed from the ritual slabs of Olde—unexplained, unknown, voiceless as a demon.

Secondo had been seventeen the day Primo donned the stage. Terzo, on the cusp of twelve. Copia, hardly old enough to tie his shoes.

By the time Terzo was fourteen, Secondo had buried himself in his Cardinal duties, already neck-deep in Nihil's grousings about the next iterations of the tours—and Copia had decided, against every point of reason, to view his storm cloud of a little brother as the needed Something.

"You didn't see how they were with them," Secondo gravels on: the frustration stuffed into a bottle, tight as he can manage—because through all of it, for all his stifled attempts, he hadn't been with them. But he should have been. Primo should have been. "What it did to the imbecile."

Primo huffs. "Terzo's always been reckless," he whispers.

An understatement, if there ever was one.

Even as a boy, the little menace been a magnet to Secondo's own vices—ones he'd caught his little brother exploring, red-handed, on more nights than he cared to remember.

He'd tried to give himself some grace about it. It was a folly, he'd reasoned, to beat inherited habits out of one's blood. They were all Nihil's sons, after all. Most of them.

Secondo shifts his jaw: a silent scrape of teeth. "He needed you," he grits back.

No part of him can admit the truth festering beneath that. Primo, mouth ticked, sees it nonetheless.

"So did you."

The heat wails on them.

For a breath, it's only the humid air, and the crickets, and the buzzing of gnats, and his pulse battering like a drum in his ears.

"Dino," Primo mutters, muted and still. The sound crawls under his skin like a tapeworm.

"I don't need to talk about this." Secondo swats his hand. "What's done is done—nothing to do about it, now."

His brother draws in a slow breath. Pinches it through his teeth. "Listen."

"You listen, eh?"

"I know you...blame yourself."

The gravel scrapes beneath his heel. Secondo rounds over his shoulder, sizes up the man across from him like a moth flickering around the lamplight of his mind; like a snake that's just slithered from the weeds.

"You want to pass off a diagnosis, now?" he sneers, and coughs out a breath of disbelief. "What else is next, eh? I am the image of the All-Father, sleeping around too much? Drowning my sorrows in the off-hours? A puppet in these goddamned robes?" He presses another step closer. "I hear the talk," he hisses, "and it swings both ways, Brother. Now—hearing about blame, from you? That's rich."

Primo lifts his chin, prim as a royal. "Calm down," he orders him.

Secondo bristles like a beast. "Who started this, eh?"

That, apparently, does him in. His brother cuts his hands through the air, stalks a grumbling path down the thistled old road. "Seven Circles—"

"Ah, yes—suppose that now you're off your throne, you are the pinnacle of wisdom," Secondo barks after him. "Always jabbering on and on about the duties, and the upholdings of the Cloth, and your goddamned crown above it—"

Across the way, Primo spits a huff. "Well. Now you are Papa—and I am here, yes? So you have what you wanted, apparently. Regality, titles, those two out of your hair—"

"That's not what I meant—"

"But what you are saying!"

Primo pins him with a hard glare. The wind and the heat have made a mess of him. He fiddles with the loose ends of his hair, distractedly: reties the knot at his nape, with a scowl. "I know, alright?" he mumbles through it. "I lived it, too. You think I knew what I was doing, having you and the little one at my heels?"

He shakes his head for a moment, hands pitted at his waist, and stares down the empty road. A fly buzzes incessantly past Secondo's ear.

"I was young, Dino," Primo sighs on. "We all were." His words turn stony, steel-edged. "But it is one thing, not to know how—and it is another, not to try."

A fire scorches in his throat. "So you are saying I did not try, eh?"

Primo lifts his brows. "You tell me."

He feels tension coil in his hand: flexes it out, like an old wound. Secondo glowers at the silver sheen of his car, bright as a bullet in the blinding sun. Looks away from the young-eyed reflection bubbling within it.

"You were strong," he grumbles, at last. "We both were. Those other two—"

"Copia was a child."

"Terzo was a child." His nails bite at his palm. "A weak one, at that."

A beat passes, two, before a chill sinks through his brother's stare: two beads of ice in a black-cloaked tower, standing like an apparition against the field's green. It cuts through Secondo like a knife, and festers like an infection.

"For that boy to endure the Sight he was gifted," Primo says carefully, "and not lose his mind from it, is a feat above us all. He's the strongest of any of us, for that alone—beside the fact he was there for Copia, after all of it."

"And that he was in the cigarette boxes, by fourteen?" Secondo scoffs. "Hell—the liquor cabinets? The clubs?"

"Weren't you?"

Shame burns in his skin. It clots any further poison from spewing off his tongue: turns him awkward, silent, fidgeting, his arms notching over his chest like a brace. He takes a hard breath beneath them. Flares it out, like dragon-smoke.

He hears his brother loiter on the gravel. Hears his fingers wrestling with the thick lines of his collar, again. His steps crunching back into his radius.

"I had my vices, too," Primo rasps, quietly. "I was raised in Nihil's touring vans, Dino—you think I'm not without my faults?"

Secondo pinches his fingers into his bicep. "At least you raised us."

"But I—Hell's sake. I shouldn't have had to." Primo's hand lifts, squeezes tight on his elbow. Loosens into a slow nudge. "And neither should you have."

At one time, his brother had towered over him. His sandy hair, bound to run gray. His bean-poled limbs and perpetually cold fingers; his voice that carried Nihil's smoke-pocked wheeze, even from his teenage days.

Strange, now, that the tables have flipped: Secondo, the mountain out of all of them, inches held over this one's pale-eyed leer. But still, in this moment—as he always had, in those moments before—he feels so small before him.

A compass needle whirling for direction. A child in the path of a giant.

"To come from this Bloodline, and not regret any years lived within it..." Primo chuffs, wrinkling a smile. "I'd consider that a feat of the One beneath. Satan knows Sister has tried to pray for it."

Secondo ticks one brow. "Prayed for it," he burrs. "Bargained us off, just to open the Gate."

"All the more proof, then."

Still, Primo's hand is on his elbow. Still, his eyes linger.

Secondo forces a swallow. "I know," he grumbles.

"You don't know."

"I know."

"Then you need to hear it, again."

His lashes flicker. His brow coils to a knot.

"We are all like this old engine of yours, Brother. We will be tinkering with the parts, until the day it croaks." Primo's eyes soften, skimming away. "And even then," he mutters on, "there may be new uses for it."

Secondo wrinkles his nose. "On your metaphorical ramblings, now?" He shrugs off his touch, the sun hot at his back, and scuffs his way to the driver's door. "If I am the car, what does that make you, huh?"

Primo sighs. He's forgotten the roll of his tools, left like an apron of jewels on a web of machinery. His bony hands tussle them back up. "Who is to say?" he drawls. "The, ah...windows in the old conservatory, perhaps."

"Can't stand you."

Primo claps the hood shut, slanting a wry smirk. "You put me on far too high on a pedestal, little brother, if you think any others feel differently."

"Get your ass in the car."

"It is cooled off?"

"Yes, it is cooled off. Goddamned should be—hour-long detour. Get in."

Primo slumps back into his seat, pulling the door closed behind him.

By the Olde One's blessing, the engine starts: a rickety burst into a lion's purr. Secondo keeps the relief off his face. Slowly, he slopes his hand over the wheel; clicks on the rolling melodramatics of the radio, the dusty burst of the air-conditioning.

Only hot air greets their wrinkled faces.

Primo cants a slow look from his seat.

"One word, and I'll slug you," Secondo growls. He jerks the car into gear, turning them back onto the white stretch of gravel that ribbons before them.

Primo, clicking his tongue, creaks down the window. "Tinkering with it for life, eh?" he muses, flatly.

"What did I just say."

"It is just the truth of the matter, Brother."

Secondo, with more flare than needed, jerks up the volume of the radio. In the corner of his eye, Primo only shakes his silvered head, and smiles.

#the band ghost #ghost band fanfic #writing #papa emeritus ii #papa ii #secondo #papa emeritus i #papa i #primo #on the family angst train: yet again #when am i not #help i love these two

15 notes · View notes

intermundia · 1 year

Text

hello! my name is will :)

what to expect here: it’s like half aesthetic posts and half star wars, specifically obi-wan and anakin, aka the team, with romantic obikin. i also post about ancient greece a bit, and applied my classics degree pointing out some cultural history of obikin dynamics.

i made edits of obi-wan saying “anakin” and anakin saying “master” at each other and a combo. i love to read about star wars and talk about it, esp. the revenge of the sith novel. sometimes i write meta about it all. i also collect star wars books too (more than 300 so far!)

i've also officially published more than 50 obikin stories! if you are interested in checking out what i have written, here are links and short descriptions of all my works, from novels to PWPs. i'm really proud to have reached this milestone (750k words! whew). thank you guys for all your support along the way <3

Novel-length stories:

Lex Talionis: COMPLETE Plotty, smutty, Sith AU. It’s my take on how Obi-Wan and Anakin could fall to the dark side, weaving in as much lore as I can. Force dyad, Sith’ari, Zygerria, etc. Obi-Wan and Anakin go through.. character development.. and it is dramatized in the changing way they have sex. I poured in all of my theories about metaphysics and the Force, all my knowledge about Augustus and how a Republic dies, all of my opinions about consent and agency. It has rough sex in it and some uncomfortable power dynamics that get resolved, so it is not for everyone, just a heads up. It is complete, and yes, there is a happy ending lol. War Drums: IN PROGRESS Darth Vader dies at the end of Return of the Jedi full of regret and wakes up in his 10-yr-old body after the events of the Phantom Menace. Young Obi-Wan struggles to acclimate to the death of Qui-Gon and the discovery that the boy he swore to train grew up into a Sith. Vader tries to use his knowledge to fix the galaxy and Obi-Wan uses his training to make sure they do it the right way. Anakin underwent his rite and is now an adult, galaxy beware. Murder Puppy: IN PROGRESS Obi-Wan’s decision to do more than flirt with the enemy ends up accidentally acquiring a clingy Sith acolyte, and he is tasked with holding his leash while they work together to end the war. This will probably end up around 40k so a bit shorter than the other two, which are chunkier

Core Oneshots: (my argument for the ship, basically)

Symposium: The story that started it all for me haha. I put Plato's Symposium in a word document and transformed it into a scene where Obi-Wan is forced to reconsider his relationship with Anakin, while dosed with an aphrodisiac, which leads to lines being crossed back in their hotel room. It suggests the erastēs/erōmenos dynamic that appears in much of my work. Unwrap, Wrap: Obi-Wan needs emotional hurt/comfort. This story has him fall apart, and Anakin help put him back together, after a traumatic battle late in the clone wars. Dramatizes the way that the war has muddied their roles and how much their lives are entangled. Obi-Wan gets a handjob in the shower, also, if that is relevant.

Longer Canon AUs: (8k+ words, AUs that take place in the GFFA)

Nostos: Technically a sequel to Symposium. It explores would happen if you took the dynamic established in Symposium and then put the characters in the canon end of Attack of the Clones. How would their behavior be impacted? How would the Jedi react to their decisions? Suckerpunch: Set during the Clovis arc, after Anakin had his jealous fight. Obi-Wan checks on him, and learns about both his marriage and the Tuskens. He doesn't want to lose his apprentice to the dark side, or a Senator. Ready Stance: Anakin is bored during a hyperspace journey during the clone wars, so he asks Obi-Wan to spar. Obi-Wan watches him warm up, they spar, and things escalate. This fic explores more core facets of their relationship, like the legacy teaching dynamic. Found, Fixed: Post-Zygerria Obi-Wan hurt/comfort. It’s similar to Unwrap, Wrap, except it’s told from Anakin’s POV and is much more explicit. It’s one of my rare bottom!Obi-Wan fic, he gets taken care of and comforted from being whumped so hard by the show. Anakin Sucks: Anakin has an oral fixation and it drives Obi-Wan to distraction over the course of the Clone Wars, 5+1 crack taken very seriously lol Make War: show!era Obi-Wan after fighting Vader on Mapuzo shares a dream with him while suspended in bacta. Warning for noncon!! Now with a second chapter set after their near miss on Jabiim. Third chapter based on the kenobi show finale hopefully will be out soon!

A/B/O Stories: (AUs that have this squicky trope, all set in GFFA)

Warm Blood: A/B/O fic that people seem to enjoy. Features omega Anakin having a suppressant failure on the battlefield and going into heat. Alpha Obi-Wan has to fight his way to him, and then tries to resist his instincts—until Anakin confesses his true feelings. Run Away With Me: A/B/O sequel to Warm Blood, tells the story of what happened after the mating, how they left the Jedi and what they’ve been doing. Anakin is preparing to go into heat, and Obi-Wan is helping him nest. Set during Revenge of the Sith, though they don’t know what’s happening in their isolation. Temporary Like Achilles: A/B/O fic. Alpha Obi-Wan is drugged by Dathomirian Nightsisters into a feral state, omega Anakin finds and rescues him. It's a fuck or die with feelings and ultimately a happy ending. Heat Haze: A/B/O fic. Alpha Obi-Wan is living alone on Tatooine, 10yrs post Mustafar. Omega Anakin is about to go into his first heat, and is searching for his mother during the Attack of the Clones. The Force shifts Anakin into the future, bringing the two together in time for Anakin’s heat to begin. Heat Shimmer: A/B/O fic. Alpha Obi-Wan is on Geonosis during Attack of the Clones, investigating. Preheat omega Darth Vader is on Geonosis 13 years later, and the Force decides to move him back in time for his heat. They fight, but it's impossible to fight some insticts. Give Up, Give In: A/B/O fic. Qui-Gon lived AU. Omega Obi-Wan is dosed with a heat inducer during a mission. Alpha Anakin who has loved the older Knight forever doesn’t handle that very well. Ends with Service Top Anakin, a favorite of mine

Longer Modern AUs: (8k+ words, developed AUs that attempt to model the canon dynamic in everyday life)

My Anankē: Classics AU is built on the premise that Obi-Wan would never break the rules re: teacher/student fraternization. He would rather endure years of mutual pining than act inappropriately. Once Anakin’s graduated though, that’s a different story. These are oneshots telling the story of their relationship. It is not told in chronological order, so each one basically opens up another window into their lives. Soulbound: Obi-Wan is a bossy lawyer who plays World of Warcraft. Anakin is an insecure veteran who is in Obi-Wan’s guild and drives him insane. They meet randomly in a bar, and Obi-Wan realizes that Anakin acts the way he does because he likes to be bossed around—so he bosses him around. Zone of Truth: Obi-Wan basically helped raise Anakin through being his Big Brother mentor through a local gaming shop, eventually teaching him to drive and getting him an internship etc. Anakin graduates college and Obi-Wan turns into a ghost, for very good reasons, it turns out. Anakin’s betrayed him, and he’s betrayed himself.

Shorter Smutty AUs: (shorter stories, canon + AUs)

Snap, Crackle, Pop: Padawan Anakin gets braid tugging and spanking after behaving very badly during the Battle of Muunilinst early in the Clone Wars. Tilted: Anakin wakes up after Mortis in a female body and hides, struggling to come to terms with the change. Obi-Wan comes to check on him and reassure him, smut ensues. Make Your Siren’s Call: show!era Obi-Wan struggles to fall asleep in the cave from the photoshoot, and dreams about his old apprentice, full of guilt, angst, and smut Stress Relief: Sith-like/Dom!Obi-Wan is rough on eager!Anakin in their Temple apartment, plays on Master/Padawan dynamic. Unperishing Glory: Homeric AU, Anakin is Achilles-type Chosen One and Obi-Wan is his Patroclus-type mentor-friend, angsty sex Murder Puppy: Playful!Obi-Wan seduces raisedSith!Anakin during a duel, bringing him back to the light during sex. People seem to really like this one, it is one of the things I get the most asks about. I have plans for a short story to expand, it’s on the WIP list I promise. Unwelcome Guest: An AU where Obi-Wan couldn't strike Anakin down on Mustafar. Suitless!Vader comes to find him on Tatooine, and wants to be punished for mistakes, there is spanking involved. Rosetta Stone: Based on the Mummy, an AU where Obi-Wan is a librarian and Anakin is a former soldier, and they defeated a mummy together. Obi-Wan is oblivious and repressed, so Anakin has to be very forward. Safe as Houses: Based on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Anakin is the slayer and Obi-Wan is his Giles-like librarian watcher. Anakin seeks Obi-Wan out in crisis and Obi-Wan takes care of him. The Outlander: Obi-Wan fell to the dark on Naboo AU, so Qui-Gon is Anakin’s Master instead. Anakin sneaks out of the Temple to a club to meet possessive Obi-Wan, there is smut against a wall outside, and Anakin falls to the dark side. Please, Daddy?: Daddy kink fic. Features a bratty Anakin, sex pheromones, spanking and just general daddy!filth. A New Hope: Anakin never left Tatooine AU. He becomes a Han Solo-type pilot who helps a rebel!Obi-Wan escape the Empire. He’s a touch starved, praise starved, virgin who’s insecure about his missing hand. Obi-Wan takes good care of him. Communication, What Communication: Organized Crime AU with collegeStudent!Anakin and accidentalSugarDaddy!Obi-Wan, gratitude kink haha. This fic has been picked up and turned into the phenomenal multichapter story Recoil and Ricochet by @wernnaa.

Potidaea, 432BC: Alcibiades!Anakin and his tutor Socrates!Obi-Wan fight together in the phalanx. Armor kink and period-accurate intercrural sex ensue lol. Minikin and Tiny-Wan: Fluff and crack based on the premise that there are tiny figurines of the Jedi that are alive (kind of like the little dragons in the goblet of fire). Obi-Wan and Anakin each get one, and their Tinys enjoy each other’s company, leading to an awkward but useful conversation. #BinGate: Great British Bake Off AU, Anakin is a contestant who lost his temper and destroyed his bake, Obi-Wan is a judge who enjoys scolding Anakin. Let Me, Master: Padawan Obi-Wan, shy demisexual Master Anakin, Obi-Wan throws caution to the wind and finally seduces his clueless Master, smut ensues with bottom Obi-Wan. Anakin, Duke of Vader, Prince of Coruscant: Anakin is a bratty, troubled prince and Obi-Wan is his unimpressed knight bodyguard. Anakin cries, showing true vulnerability, and Obi-Wan realizes he has a kink for that lmao Sic Transit Gloria Mundi: Sexually frustrated after sparring with his Master, Anakin decides to visit the glory hole in the locker room. Little does he know, he’s not the only one. Boy Toy: Obi-Wan is a fashion designer and Anakin is a first time model. They’ve just finished a boytoy themed photoshoot and get trapped together in an elevator Brotherhood: Anakin is a college student in a spiral after the death of his mother, and his father Qui-Gon left for a trip, leaving his much older step-brother Obi-Wan, who he doesn't know very well, in charge. Obi-Wan picks Anakin up from jail, and the argument goes places. Hard Racing: Anakin is a Formula 1 driver and Obi-Wan is his team principal. After an accident at the Azerbaijan Grand Prix where he ran into his teammate, he is sore, tired, and afraid of getting demoted from his spot. Obi-Wan comes to his hotel to reassure him of his value to him and the team. Beer and Paint: Obi-Wan and Anakin are both apprentices to famous artist Qui-Gon. Anakin has tattoos/piercings/blue streak in his hair, and Obi-Wan is obsessed. Sloppy art and drunk sex ensue.

Smutty +F fic AUs: (short fics that includes Padmé or Ventress)

Très Lecherous: Padmé and Obi-Wan agree to share subby!Anakin, this fic is all three together, and includes DP if that is your jam. Blue Shadow Virus: continuation of above AU, Padmé almost died on Naboo and Anakin doesn’t take it well. Obi-Wan and Padmé dom him into relaxing Post-Revenge: Set after the episode of TCW where Ventress rescues Obi-Wan from Maul and Savage. This is only Ventress/Obi-Wan, but Anakin is extremely present in the fact that Ventress uses Obi-Wan's secret feelings for Anakin to incite him into hate sex. Plus Anakin Makes 3: Sort of a sequel to the Post-Revenge fic, Anakin discovers Obi-Wan and Ventress having a tryst, decides to participate rather than freak out, so more DP haha.

Collaborations: (stories i co-authored with friends)

Apartment Story: Post-Deception arc reconciliation fic, where Obi-Wan is drunk and Anakin is angry. Feelings are revealed, and comfort, understanding and smut ensues. Written with my friend @whohatessandas a RP and adapted into a story. Satellite Mind: What would happen if Obi-Wan could hear Anakin’s thoughts? Spoiler: it does not go well. Set during the last few days of the clone wars, and tracks how their relationship combusted over Anakin’s secrets. Written with @theseptemberist.

#thanks for stopping by <3

228 notes · View notes

winchestersheaven · 8 days

Text

Smowkie recs McShep

i've been reading a lot of McShep fics lately and a while back i mentioned that i had plans to make a couple of fic rec posts. they're taking me forever to make, but here's the first one, finally!

@wonkyelk was one of the first authors i found, and i've read and loved SO MANY of their fics! wonderful author that made me fall head over heels for the pining!John and oblivious!Rodney trope! 💖

this is by no means an exhaustive list of the fics i loved from them, it's just a small number of the ones i read and enjoyed. my biggest recommendation with this author is to just go read their fics, it's great stuff and their language is delightful.

so here goes, in no particular order:

19 McShep fics by WonkyElk (under the cut, because this got long)

Of Sealing Wax and String 3562 words | Teen author's tags: First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, POV Rodney McKay summary:

Rodney had never had so much love in his life that he wasn't desperate to catch all the drops that he could.

Smowkie: there are too many things that i love in this to mention them all, so i'll just add my favorite quote from the fic: "[...] a thoughtful look, albeit one squarely aimed at the floor, which was hardly likely to appreciate it." 💖

You’re the Book That I Have Opened 1834 words | Teen author's tags: Pining John Sheppard, Oblivious Rodney McKay, Character Study, Angst with a Happy Ending, Short, Internalized Homophobia summary:

At eighteen, John Sheppard had known a lot of things. He knew how to dance, with exactly the right level of polite formality. He knew how to ride well and the proper care of a horse. He knew everything about the theory and mathematics of flight. He knew that being a fighter pilot was the absolute dream of his life. And he knew - knew - that he wasn't into guys.

Smowkie: lovely thing, chock-full of John feels, and with this quote: "They sat in silence for a while. Silence was something John could do. It never came out awkward or wrong, you could never blurt out unintentional silence, or get your bits of silence all mixed up and taken out of context." brb, crying about John Sheppard.

How to Disappear Completely 7276 words | Teen author's tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Temporary Character Death, Feelings Realization, POV Alternating summary:

"Look, I know you don’t know me and you’re not aware of the fact that, if you knew I was missing - which you don’t, because I never existed and, even if I did, you wouldn’t have met me yet - then you’d be very, very upset about it … but I really need your help. And, actually, so does the universe."

Smowkie: this one is amazing! mild horror warning for the creepiness in the beginning, that was some well written discomfort! also, so much love the fantastic way WonkyElk chose to show Rodney's mood and vulnerability 💖

New Every Day 2047 words | Gen author's tags: Pining John Sheppard, Oblivious Rodney McKay, Angst, Short, POV John Sheppard, Character Study summary:

Sometimes it seemed like he had to relearn emotions, over and over again.

Smowkie: this one! what a lovely thing. all the John feels. i want to add a couple of quotes here too, but they're right at the end so i'm not doing that, sadly. i can quote "Especially Rodney" though, because especially Rodney 💖

Some Misunderstanding 6193 words | Teen author's tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Human Experimentation, First Kiss, POV Alternating summary:

The path to Ascension was not a smooth one.

Smowkie: this one! UNCOMFY. really really good with a very interesting style, but oof, uncomfy! love it!

All You Need is … 1830 words | Teen author's tags: Short, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst summary:

The thing about love was, that it wasn't enough. It might fill you up and set you alight and hug you close and tear your heart out and pet you gently and hang like a slow-dragging weight around your neck: but, for all of its bullying and grandstanding, it skipped right over all the practical things and let you scramble around to fix those up - or not - as best you might; but definitely with none of its assistance.

Smowkie: this made me all mushy inside, it was great 💖

Flowers and Other Ambiguities 1289 words | Gen author's tags: Pre-Slash, Character Study, POV John Sheppard, Short, Pining John Sheppard, Oblivious Rodney McKay summary:

The field was blossoming in such rich dark blues and purples, with an underlying green, that John was irresistibly put in mind of the ocean, his feet lightly stepping over the water, mindful of the lurking creatures of the deep.

Smowkie: this one holds a special place in my heart. it was one of the first McShep fics i read and it's what really sold me on the pining!John and oblivious!Rodney trope. it's such a wonderful fic, and the pining, man the pining 💖

But Soft … 1645 words | Teen author's tags: Fluff, Alternate Universe - College/University, Theatre, Short summary:

"I'm just suggesting, John, that, perhaps your speeches about Juliet, should not be notably less impassioned than your banter with Mercutio."

Smowkie: i’m generally not interested in AUs for McShep, but i had enjoyed so much from WonkyElk that i read this anyway, and BOY am i glad i did, because i adored this!

Not Early, But Not Too Late 810 words | Teen author's tags: Short, Realisations, Getting Together, First Kiss summary:

Rodney finally learns the language.

Smowkie: this is just lovely 💖

A Matter of Mugs 2959 words | Teen author's tags: Post-Canon, Break Up, Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Oblivious Rodney McKay summary:

Rodney's emotional levels were generally at critical, but, right now, they were straining the banks and spoiling for a flood of world-drowning proportions. This wasn't because of a crisis, nor even anything so petty and ordinary as a mid-life crisis - not that Rodney was old enough for that, slap bang in the very prime of life as he was and intended to remain - but more of a build up of small things and not-so small things, stacking up awkwardly on top of each other and wobbling under the pressure and the terrible engineering choices.

Smowkie: this is a wonderful read, and i love how John comes first for Rodney long before he realizes his feelings for him. also Rodney and Jeannie bonding 💖 (to clarify the break-up tag: i've chosen not to add relationship tags in this post since all fics are McShep, but this fic has both the John/Rodney and the Jennifer/Rodney relationship tags, and the break-up tag is for Jennifer/Rodney)

One Stroke of The Moon 1378 words | Gen author's tags: Short, Episode: s05e06 The Shrine, Light Angst, Team as Family summary:

When the Avarro moon hangs lowest in the sky, ripe and full - so bright and summoning that your head becomes full of it and nothing else exists - then it is, that some climb to the very top of the trees, stretch out their hands and their hopes and touch her on the belly, with a reverent stroke. Those that touch the moon in this way are never the same afterwards. Nor would they want to be.

Smowkie: this is such a lovely thing. the team’s loyalty and love to Rodney is just 💖

A Staff, A Spear 2179 words | Teen author's tags: Character Study, Angst, Pining John Sheppard, Oblivious Rodney McKay, Short, POV John Sheppard summary:

For a time, he had no memory, no self; no pain. Until the sunshine cooled in his blood and the wine left him with a sigh, like a ghost, and his whole personality fell back inside him, with a thump. It was so heavy, being himself again, he could almost have cried.

Smowkie: the fic that made me make this post. this one really hits you smack in the face with John feels. it's heartbreaking and painful in the best of ways. 💖

Setting Parameters 4545 words | Teen author's tags: Hurt/Comfort, Action/Adventure, Virtual Reality, POV Alternating summary:

It absolutely wasn’t a holodeck.

Smowkie: i love a good holodeck disaster story, but this is so much more than just that, and i adore it. the McShep relationship especially, but also Teyla (and Ford too) 💖 much love! and my favorite quote: They rested against each other when they were done, in a way which, to the laymen’s mind, might very easily be confused with snuggling. guys, come on... xD 💖

A Pair of Shadows 2090 words | Teen author's tags: POV Outsider, Rodney and John are Stuck Together, Fluff summary:

John and Rodney become joined at the hip. This is not metaphorical.

Smowkie: glorious outsider POV fic 💖

Opposite to Blue 1459 words | Teen author's tags: Short, Character Study, References to Depression, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Sheppard summary:

The first time that John had met Rodney McKay he had been brightly, regrettably, orange.

Smowkie: more John feels 💖 Rodney is such a sweetheart in this, and he pretty much killed me with the quote "the wiggly thing your voice did when you called me" 💖

A Sufficiency of Freedom 1342 words | Teen author's tags: Character Study, Short, Light Angst, Pining John Sheppard, Oblivious Rodney McKay, POV John Sheppard summary:

From time to time, people had asked John why he loved to fly.

Smowkie: this has such great imagery, a beautiful insight in John's mind 💖

An Anchor in the Mist 1620 words | Teen author's tags: Short, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, First Kiss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Sheppard summary:

Sometimes, when he was back on Earth, John would look around at the colours, the brightness, the busyness - the sheer number of people, the surrealism of it all - and wonder if it was actually real.

Smowkie: THIS ONE! i adore this one. it's John feels again, and it's hurt/comforty and angsty and sweet and loving and painful and happy and just beautiful. i want to live in this one 💖

To silent ash 1529 words | Teen author's tags: Angst and Feels, Post-Canon, Sad summary:

Dear Jeannie…

Smowkie: ah, pain. it's beautiful and so very sad. read the author's note before the fic and decide if you want the spoilers or not, but either way it's worth it imo, i loved it

Accepting a Complement 1433 words | Gen author's tags: Short, Feelings, working out a relationship summary:

He wasn't sure exactly when he and Sheppard had become 'those two' or 'you two' or 'that pair' to so many people. But, now that the phrase had jumped up and bit him, so to speak, he was very aware that he had heard it too many times to count.

Smowkie: this fic made me feel in love with McShep. i mean, i guess i am in love with McShep, that's sorta how i ship, i see something and fall in love. but this fic, yeah, it brought it out so much that i was just a mess reading it, the whole thing; giddy, grinning, the stomach thing that feels a lot like anxiety but isn't. yeah, i love this one, it made me so happy 💖

#Smowkie talks #McShep #fic recs #fic rec #WonkyElk

4 notes · View notes

sugdenlovesdingle · 8 months

Text

It's finally done!

And only three days late!

my @911reversebang fic

California (AO3) inspired by the awesome art by redpinkdots

TK doesn't move to Austin with Owen after his OD but decides to check himself into rehab to get clean once and for all. Only reading websites is hard and things aren't exactly the way he thought they would be.

A/N: I got this idea the first time I saw the artwork and I was so excited when I got assigned this. But life™ kind of got in the way and I really struggled with this fic in more ways than one. Though I'm pretty happy with the result in the end and I hope you'll enjoy it too. And just FYI - all I know about both California and rehab facilities is what I've seen and heard in various tv shows and quick google searches... so it's probably hella inaccurate... but just go with it.

TW: Mentions of TK's overdose and addiction

TK opened his eyes and closed them again right away. The bright lights hurt his eyes and he groaned trying to remember where he was and how he’d gotten there. Because he definitely wasn’t in his bed in his apartment.

“TK? Are you awake?” a familiar voice asked but the fog in his brain wouldn’t lift enough for him to put a face and name to it.

“Welcome back mister Strand. You gave everyone quite the scare.” Someone else said and this time TK was sure he didn’t know them.

Someone, possibly the same person, adjusted his blanket and suddenly he noticed a beeping noise.

He opened his eyes a tiny bit and saw nothing but bright and white.

His brain needed a minute to process the information.

Hospital.

Again.

Shit.

He squeezed his eyes shut yet again.

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m here. We both are.”

“Dad?” he asked, or more like croaked. His throat hurt and his mouth was dry.

“Yeah, I’m here. It’s ok. You’re going to be ok.” He felt his dad squeeze his hand.

Someone grabbed his other hand and when TK turned his head to look at them, a white hot knife was slammed into his brain.

Or at least that’s how it felt.

He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in and out a few times to get the pain to subside.

In through his nose, out through his mouth.

Suddenly a familiar scent hit his senses and this time he knew exactly what it meant.

“Mom?”

Her perfume was always a comfort to him. Ever since he was a little boy. Only now it reminded him of how much he’d let her down. Again.

“Yes sweetheart I’m here. I’m right here. You’re going to be ok. I’ll make sure of it.”

He slowly opened his eyes again and saw his mother sitting next to his hospital bed.

“What happened?”

“We were hoping you could tell us.” His dad said from his other side.

“Owen.” Gwyn warned him and then turned to her son. “You’re in hospital… they uh… they had to pump your stomach. Your dad found you in your apartment.”

“You OD-ed. You weren’t breathing. I had to use Narcan to bring you back.” Owen told him and seemed to struggle to swallow past the lump in his throat. “If we’d been just a little bit later…”

“But you weren’t.” Gwyn cut in, clearly eager to move the conversation along. “Just… try to get some rest and when you’re ready, you can tell us what happened.” She squeezed TK’s hand.

“What time is it?”

“About 4.30.” Owen answered after glancing at his watch. “Don’t worry, the nurses won’t kick us out after visiting hours.”

“No… I… I have to go.” TK said, trying to sit up and ignore the pain in his body. “My shift starts at 5. I have to go. I can’t be late.”

“Wow, wow, wow. TK calm down. Son. TK.” Owen tried, getting up from his seat and trying to make TK stay in bed.

“Tyler Kennedy Strand.” Gwyn started and TK knew he was in trouble whenever his mother used his full name. “You stay in that bed and rest until someone with MD behind their name says otherwise.”

TK considered his options for a minute and then relaxed under his father’s grip and sagged back against the bed.

Owen squeezed his shoulder.

“You’ve been through a lot. Just take your time. The guys understand.”

“They know?”

Owen glanced at Gwyn for help before taking a deep breath.

“What? What’s going on?” TK asked.

“Some of them were with me when I found you. The others I had to tell when you didn’t show up for your shift.”

“What? My shift starts at five.”

“No… Your shift started at five on Sunday. It’s Wednesday now. You’ve been in a coma for three days.”

“What? I… how… That… It can’t be.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” The voice from before said and this time TK glanced around and saw a nurse of around his age. “The doctor will be around later to asses you.” She told him and left.

“Asses me? What does that mean?”

His parents shared a look.

“I think they’ll want to do a psych evaluation… to determine if you need to be admitted as a suicide risk.” Owen said after a beat.

TK sighed and closed his eyes.

“Great.”

“Should they?”

He opened one eye.

“Should they what?”

“Admit you as a suicide risk?”

“What? No!” TK said immediately but the look on his parents faces told him he wasn’t very convincing. “I don’t know… I’m pretty tired. I think I just need to get some rest.” He turned away from Owen.

Unfortunately that meant he was now facing his mother.

“Does it have something to do with Alex?” Gwyn asked and TK felt his heart shatter all over again at the mention of his boyfriend’s name. Or ex-boyfriend now he supposed. “I know you were going to propose… and he’s not here now…”

TK threw an accusing glare over his shoulder at his father.

“You told her?”

“I didn’t realise it was a secret. You were all but shouting it from the Empire State building.”

“It wasn’t your news to share! I would have told her myself if there was something to tell!”

“So is there something to tell?” Gwyn interrupted, well trained in stopping arguments between her son and ex-husband before they could explode.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” TK said, pulling the blanket up to his ears and closing his eyes. “I’m tired.”

---

A few days, multiple tests, and a mandatory psych evaluation later, TK found himself back in his childhood bedroom in his mom’s apartment.

He’d fought his parents tooth and nail to let him go back to his own place, insisting he was fine, but they’d blatantly refused.

He’d overheard Owen making calls to clear his schedule so he could be there for him, and his mom had told him she’d be working from home for the foreseeable and it was up to him to decide which parent he’d move in with.

He’d picked her because at least she’d be working and wouldn’t be hovering over him 24/7 like his dad would if neither of them would have anything to do all day.

He knew it was because they cared, but he just wanted to wallow in peace.

He rolled over in the small single bed to check his phone. Mostly out of habit since it had died on him days ago and his charger was still on his bedside table in his apartment.

Deep down he knew that if he’d been left alone with a fully charged phone, he would have ended up doing something he’d regret.

Something like calling Alex and begging him to take him back. Or yelling at him and calling him every name under the sun.

Possibly both.

But he was petty enough not to want to admit that to either of his parents.

Suddenly a knock on his bedroom door snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Permission to enter without you taking your bad mood out on me?”

TK looked up and pushed himself up on his elbows.

“Enzo?”

“Hey kid, I come in peace.”

“What are you doing here? Did mom send you to check up on me?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.” Enzo said, sitting down in TK’s desk chair.

“That’s a yes then.” TK said and sat up. “Wait, how did you get in? I didn’t hear the doorbell and mom is at the office.”

Enzo held up a keyring with several keys on it.

“There is this great invention called keys. They let you get into places without ringing the doorbell.” He joked.

“You have a key to this place?”

“Of course.”

TK narrowed his eyes.

“Are you and mom back together?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.” Enzo replied with a grin. “And I’m not here to talk about me. How are you holding up?”

TK shrugged.

“Mostly bored. Daytime tv sucks and I’m getting sick of staring at these walls. But it’s better than mom and dad constantly hovering over me and checking up on me.”

“Don’t you think they have good reason to do that? It’s not like you stubbed your toe.”

“I know.” TK sighed and let himself fall back on his bed. “I just want to forget it happened. All of it. But I can’t. Dad put me on medical leave and mom made me come back here instead of letting me go back home.”

Enzo nodded.

“She told me.”

TK rolled onto his side, leaning on his elbow.

“She won’t leave me alone for more than an hour. She’s only gone now because she absolutely had to go to the office and couldn’t get out of it. And now she’s sent you to babysit me.”

“I’ve had worse afternoons.” Enzo shrugged.

TK let out a grunt and dropped back onto his bed again, trying to ignore the feeling of being thirteen and grounded for doing something stupid while Enzo tried to get him to talk about why he’d done what he did.

“I didn’t… plan it…” TK started after a while. “I just… I wanted… to stop feeling.”

“And taking a bunch of pills was the way to do that?”

“I know it was stupid alright? But I wasn’t thinking clearly.” TK admitted and sat up again. “I proposed to Alex and he turned me down.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. And then he told me he was in love with his spin instructor and they’d been dating behind my back.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I thought we had a future together, he was just trying to get rid of me. I’m such an idiot.”

“You trusted the guy you fell in love with. That doesn’t sound so idiotic to me.”

TK shook his head.

“I always do this. I fall for a guy who doesn’t like me back or just wants something casual.”

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now…” Enzo started and waited until he had TK’s full attention. “But one day, and I hope that day will come soon, you’re going to meet someone who is as crazy about you as you are about him. And you’re going to be so happy. So happy that this will be nothing but a bad memory.”

“You’re right. That’s not what I want to hear.” TK told him and looked down at his duvet. “And it’s never going to happen anyway. I’m damaged goods. Nobody is going to want to be with me.”

---

“If you’re going to my place to get clean clothes you might as well take me with you.” TK pleaded with his father. “I’ll stay where you can see me the whole time, I promise. I just want my phone charger and my laptop. I’m not going to score, I’m just bored.”

It was a few days after his talk with Enzo, and after some pushing from his stepfather, he’d told his parents why he’d taken the pills.

It had both cleared the air and made them hover and smother him even more. He was going stir crazy and would do just about anything to get out of the apartment.

Owen hesitated for a minute but then sighed.

“Fine. We can’t keep you locked in here forever I suppose.”

“Exactly.” TK jumped up from his seat and went to grab his jacket. “Come on, let’s go.”

They decided to walk to TK’s apartment instead of getting the subway in the middle of rush hour.

“Maybe we can stop by the station on the way back. So I can let the guys know I’m ok and I’ll be back at work soon.”

“Back at work? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Did you call that therapist for an appointment?”

“What? No. I don’t need one. I just need to get back to work. Like you said, I can’t keep hanging around mom’s apartment all day and you can’t keep getting Enzo to check up on me when you’re at work.”

“He offered to stop by! He wanted to catch up and see how you were doing.”

“Well I’m fine.” TK insisted. “And I’d be even better if you’d let me go back to work.”

“I will. Once your therapist signs off on it.” Owen told him and then lowered his voice. “You nearly died TK. You overdosed. I know why you did it, I know it wasn’t an accident, and I can’t let you go back on shift when you’re not in the right headspace. You’d be putting the whole team at risk.”

TK rolled his eyes and started walking faster, zigzagging between commuters and groups of tourists in an attempt to shake off his dad. It was petty and childish but in that moment he didn’t care.

He reached his apartment door with Owen far enough behind to not even be in sight, which pleased his inner angry teenager greatly. He put a hand in his pocket to grab his keys, only to remember he didn’t have them on him.

His dad had been to his apartment to get him a change of clothes when he’d been released from hospital and had taken his keys.

“Great.” He muttered and sat down in front of his door to sulk and wait for his dad.

Only when he heard footsteps approaching a few minutes later, it wasn’t Owen who came round the corner.

“Alex.”

“TK. Hey.” Alex smiled and TK hated that he still got butterflies in his stomach from just being near him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Just coming to see how you are. I don’t like the way we left things.” Alex explained. “I’ve been trying to call you but it keeps going to voicemail.”

“Phone is dead.” TK snapped. “And even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh come on TK. People break up all the time. We can still be friends, right?”

TK snorted.

“Friends? Do you really think I want to be friends with you?” He stood up. “You broke my heart, Alex. I loved you. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you! I proposed!”

“Yeah… well… you always were more into it all than me.”

“Just go Alex. Leave me alone.” TK sighed and turned his back to the other man, wishing again he had his keys on him.

“I uh… actually… needed to talk to you…? I uh… lost my sunglasses. The designer ones I bought last summer? Did I leave them at your place?”

“Are you for real?!” TK exploded, just as Owen rounded the corner.

“What’s going on here?”

“I was just asking TK if I’d left my sunglasses at his place.” Alex explained, trying to sound casual. He knew full well Owen didn’t like him.

“After he dumped me for his spin instructor when I proposed to him!” TK yelled. “You cheated on me for god knows how long and if I hadn’t proposed you still wouldn’t have told me!”

“That’s not true. I wanted to tell you. I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

“How considerate.” TK said sarcastically. “Just go away and leave me alone. I don’t have your stupid sunglasses. Maybe ask your other boyfriend if he’s seen them.” He held his hand out to Owen. “Keys please.”

Owen handed him the keys and put himself between TK and Alex, staring the man down.

“TK doesn’t want to talk to you and if you don’t leave now, I know some people in the NYPD who might want to talk to you instead.”

“Breaking up with someone is not a crime.”

“Maybe not. But harassment is.”

“TK just let me have a quick look around for my sunglasses. I know I wore them last time I came over.” Alex said, attempting to step around Owen to get to TK but Owen stopped him with a glare and a hand on his chest.

“I think you should leave. Now. Before I do something I regret.”

“Are you threatening me Captain Strand?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Now leave.”

After a minute Alex decided to cut his losses.

“Let me know if you find them!” he called out to TK before turning and walking down the stairs.

Owen rolled his eyes and walked into TK’s apartment, doing his best to ignore the place he’d found TK barely two weeks ago, pale, cold, and barely holding onto life.

Thankfully this time, TK was alive and well and shoving clothes into a bag.

“Do you need me to grab anything?” Owen offered.

“Bathroom.” TK replied, voice breaking as if he was trying not to cry. Owen decided to leave him be for now and just busied himself gathering TK’s shampoo and shaving kit.

Maybe they could make a quick stop downtown after all on the way back to Gwyn’s place. Seeing the crew might cheer him up and take his mind off things.

---

Despite Owen’s best efforts, TK hadn’t cheered up from a visit to their firehouse and had barely left his bedroom since they’d gotten back to Gwyn’s place.

He was worried about him and he knew Gwyn was too.

Almost a week had passed without TK making any kind of move to pick himself back up and Owen had convinced Gwyn to stage an intervention with him to pull TK out of his own mind.

That’s where they were now. The three of them sat at Gwyn’s kitchen table, staring each other down, none of them really knowing where to start.

“I don’t know what your plan was, but if it was just us sitting here, staring at each other, you can do it without me.” TK said and pushed his chair back and got up.

“TK. Sit down.” Gwyn told him and reached out for his hand. “Please. Your father and I just want to talk to you.”

TK sighed and sat back down.

“About what? That I should go to therapy? Or NA? That you’ll be there for me every step of the way? That it’ll be good for me?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, gearing up for a fight.

“I got offered a job.” Owen interrupted. “In Austin, Texas. Rebuilding a firehouse that lost almost its entire crew.”

“Ok.” TK said after a minute of letting the sudden change of subject sink in. “Good for you, dad.”

“I think I’m going to take it.”

TK nodded.

“So you’re moving to Texas then.”

“Yeah… I… we… your mother and I… we both think you should come with me.”

“What? No way. My life is here. My friends, my job.”

“You’ll make new friends. Better friends.”

“Friends who don’t use.” TK deadpanned.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Owen asked. “And you’ll have a job at the firehouse with me.”

“So you can check up on me.” TK said, daring him to disagree. “And why would I move to hate crime, USA? I’m gay, dad. And Jewish. Texas isn’t the most welcoming place for people like me.”

“I’m sure a big city like Austin isn’t so bad.” Gwyn offered. “If you want to go back to temple I can reach out and ask for recommendations for LGBT+ friendly places in Austin.”

“I’m not moving to Texas!” TK yelled and got up and started pacing. “I actually found a rehab place in California. I emailed them to ask if they have a place for me. I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure there was anything to tell, but if they get back to me and tell me I can come, I’m going. A few weeks of yoga on the beach and I’ll be fine. I’ll be able to go back to work and actually do the things I trained for instead of hanging around this place all day.”

“California?” Gwyn interrupted. “When did you find that place?”

“The other day. When we got back from packing up my stuff.”

“Ok. And what kind of place is it? Can you show me the website?”

“It’s just this wellness thing. I don’t have the details right now.” TK brushed her off and turned his attention to his phone when it buzzed in his pocket.

“If it’s yoga you want, I can go to yoga classes with you here. You don’t need to go to the other side of the country.” Owen offered. “Just no goat yoga. I’ve heard weird things about that.” He tried to joke to relieve the tension.

TK didn’t reply just focused on his phone.

“Everything alright? TK?”

“Uh yeah, yeah… I just got an email from that place in California I found… they have a place for me. I can start the program as soon as tomorrow.”

“That’s good isn’t it?” Gwyn asked “That’s what you wanted.”

“Yeah… I uh… just didn’t think I’d be able to start so soon.”

“You don’t have to go.” Owen said, trying to find the right words. “I mean. You can go to NA here, I can come with you. There are clinics and programs here in NYC too. You don’t have to do it all on your own. I want to help you. So does your mother.”

“I know dad… but I… I think I just… I need to get away. I just… need to put as much distance between me and… everything that’s bad for me here.” TK said as if he was telling himself why going to California was the best thing for him.

“Like Alex.”

“No. Yes. Not just him. This isn’t his fault. It’s on me.”

“Him being a lying, cheating…”

“Dad…”

“What?” Owen asked. “It sure as hell didn’t help, did it?”

TK shook his head.

“You’ve never liked him.”

“Clearly with good reason.”

“Tell me more about this place in California you found?” Gwyn interrupted, trying to get the conversation back on track. “What do they offer except yoga?”

“It’s… some kind of retreat. I think. I signed up pretty quickly so I wouldn’t change my mind.”

“But it’s a rehab facility?”

“Yeah. They have medical staff and they offer therapy. I think I’ll be good for me.”

“Why don’t you just come to Texas with me? We’ll start over together.” Owen offered. “I’m sure they have yoga classes in Texas too.”

“No, dad… I need to do this on my own. I want to do this. I want to get clean once and for all.”

“And you think going to California will help you do that?” Gwyn asked.

“Yeah. Yeah I think so.” TK told them. “And there was this guy in the academy with me. Evan B... something. He transferred to LA to be closer to his sister or whatever… I don’t really remember. But maybe I can message him when I’m done, see if there are any jobs going with the LAFD. Stay out west for a while.”

“You have a job here. And I can get you a job in Texas.” Owen said, earning him a glare from his ex-wife. “But if you think California is the right thing to do for you… we’ll both support you.

---

A few days, a maxed out credit card, a teary airport goodbye, an exhausting flight, and a three hour time difference to mess with his head later, TK stepped off the plane in California and went to the motions of reclaiming his bag.

He threw it over his shoulder and shuffled through the arrivals hall with the rest of the passengers. As soon as he walked through the doors, someone rushed past him. He wanted to snap at the guy and maybe throw in a snide comment or two, but then he saw him practically throw himself at another guy holding a heart shaped balloon and he had to look away. He couldn’t deal with happy couples right now.

Instead he made himself focus on looking for whoever the clinic had sent to pick him up.

He noticed a guy in a simple button down shirt and jeans instead of the usual corporate three piece grey suit holding a sign that, upon closer inspection, said Tyler Strand.”

“Hi. I think you’re here for me.” He told the guy, walking up to him.

“Are you Tyler Strand?”

“Yeah. I uh… go by TK actually. “Tyler Kennedy. Two first names. My parents have never agreed on anything in their lives, naming me was no different… this was their compromise.”

“Oh. Sorry about that. I just copied what was on the form.”

“It’s fine. Someone getting my name wrong is the least of my problems at the moment.”

“Yeah.” The guy said and cleared his throat. “ Uhm… Do you have everything? Your luggage?”

“Just this.” TK shrugged the shoulder his bag was hanging from.

“Alright. Let’s get going then. It’s not that far from here. Only about an hour and a half’s drive.” The guy told him and started walking. “I’m Carlos by the way.”

TK followed him out of the airport and to the parking lot where he unlocked a plain black car, thankfully without any logos or the name of the retreat on it.

“Just throw your bag in the back, it’s open.” Carlos told him and TK did as he was told before getting into the car.

They pulled out of the parking lot and soon they were onto the highway.

As much as TK tried to focus on the random pop songs playing on the radio, the guy sitting next to him intrigued him for some reason and he wanted to talk to him to find out more about him.

“So are you a therapist or just the driver?”

“I’m not a therapist.” Carlos told him, glancing back and forth between TK and the road. “Though I’ve been told I’m a good listener if you want to talk.” He shot TK a quick smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m more of an activities kind of guy.”

“Activities? What is this, summer camp?”

Carlos laughed.

“Well… in a way. Though a bit unconventional. Maybe more like boy scouts? For adults.”

“I was never a boy scout.” TK shrugged. “Born and raised in Manhattan. The most exotic place my parents took me was the Bronx zoo.”

Carlos laughed.

“I’ll try not to hold it against you.”

They made small talk about the music on the radio, the latest celebrity scandal, an upcoming superhero film, and even the weather, until TK felt himself getting drowsy and rested his head against the window, planning to close his eyes for five minutes.

The next thing he knew was Carlos gently shaking his shoulder to wake him up.

“Hey, you fell asleep about an hour ago but we’re here.”

TK rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around.

“Right. Ok. Sorry about that.”

“It’s ok. You probably needed the rest.” Carlos gave him a friendly smile and helped him grab his stuff from the trunk. “Do you want to go over the paperwork now or do you want to get settled in first?”

“Papers.” TK replied right away. “Get it over with.”

“Alright, follow me.”

Carlos lead him into a building and down a few hallways. They met a couple of people along the way and Carlos greeted them all in passing. Though they all seemed to be staff rather than patients and it made TK curious.

“How many people are here.. for uh… help?”

“About 30 in total. Not that many.” Carlos replied, opening a door with a key card. “That way we have more time to curate people’s experience based on their needs.”

TK snorted.

“Did you just quote the website?”

Carlos shot him a grin.

“What can I say, I like to be prepared.”

He opened another door and entered an office and gestured for TK to sit down.

“Just give me a minute to find everything. I don’t usually do the paperwork thing and this isn’t my office.” He explained. “I don’t have an office.”

“It’s fine.” TK shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to be.”

Carlos opened a few drawers and pulled out some forms.

“Ok, let’s get started. First question. When is the last time you used?”

“Anything?”

“Hmm.”

“On the plane here…” TK admitted reluctantly.

“What did you take?”

“Just… two little bottles of vodka from the drinks cart. To take the edge off.”

Carlos nodded and wrote down TK’s answers.

“Anything else?”

“No.”

“And before today? What was your drug of choice?”

“Anything I could get my hands on…” TK told him, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down over his hands. Thankfully the track marks on his arms weren’t nearly as bad as they could have been, but he still felt self-conscious about them.

Carlos’s eyes flicked to his arms but he didn’t acknowledge the move.

“Ok. You said you overdosed in your application, what did you use?”

“Pills… they were easiest to get…” TK answered, squirming in his seat, regretting not choosing to go to his room first.

“Oxy?”

“Yes… do we really have to do this?”

Carlos put his pen down.

“You can fill it in yourself if you’d rather… but one of us has to somehow. These need to be filled in and filed before your treatment can fully start.”

“Right.”

“Look, I know this is a lot but it’s only going to get better from here.”

“Hopefully.”

“You don’t think you can do it?”

TK sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“I want to. For my parents. I’ve caused them so much pain…”

“But…” Carlos prompted.

“But… this isn’t my first time trying to get clean.” TK sighed. “I just… don’t know if I can do it. Maybe this is as good as it gets.” He shrugged. “I get clean for a few months and then just… find a reason to score again.”

“And why shouldn’t this time be different? Why shouldn’t this time be the time you kick the habit for good?”

TK shook his head.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty tired. Can we finish this another time? Tomorrow maybe?”

Carlos smiled and TK felt a little bit of the pent up anxiety slowly slip away.

“Sure. I’ll show you to your room.”

---

The next morning TK was woken up by someone knocking on his door.

He dragged himself out of bed and opened it to see Carlos standing there in work out gear.

“Morning.” He said happily. “Are you ready to start the day?”

“What?” TK blinked and tried to wake himself up enough to figure out what was going on.

“It’s a nice morning. We’re going for a run. The others are on their way too.”

“Others? Run? What?”

“It’s part of the program you signed up for.” Carlos said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Healthy body and a healthy mind.”

“I… I don’t… I… think… uhm… I don’t understand.”

Carlos smiled.

“Not a morning person?”

“No. Yes. I mean. What the hell is going on?”

“It’s time to start the day with a run. And then when we’re done with that we can finish the paperwork from yesterday before the afternoon program starts.”

“Afternoon program?” TK shook his head in an attempt to wake himself up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The program.” Carlos said and proceeded to run TK through an itinerary that exhausted him just listening to it.

“I… What’s going on?” TK asked “Is this bootcamp for navy SEALs?”

“Hardly.” Carlos snorted “But this is what you signed up for.”

“No… I think I’d remember joining the army.”

“I know it can be a lot on your first day but you get used to it soon enough. Trust me.”

“I… I think there’s been a mistake. I was under the impression this was more… yoga on the beach and spiritual awareness and all that.”

“Well… I do yoga in my spare time, I know a few poses. I’m not an instructor or anything but we can set something up after dinner maybe.”

“After going through special ops training? I don’t think I’ll be alive.”

“It’s not so bad. Honestly.”

“Somehow I doubt that. I guess I didn’t really read the website that well when I signed up. I uh… I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’ll figure out a way to get back to the airport and see if there’s room on a flight back east any time soon.”

Carlos crossed his arms in front of his chest and TK had to force himself to not let his eyes linger on the way his muscles moved under his shirt.

“So you’re just giving up? I didn’t think you were a quitter.” He uncrossed his arms. “But I guess it’s easier to leave than to admit you can’t cut it.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s ok.” He shrugged. “Not everyone can handle this program. It’s good to know your limits. I’ll drive you back to the airport myself. Do you need to call anyone? The phone signal is kind of hit and miss out here. Mostly miss.”

TK knew Carlos was baiting him but he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

“Give me five minutes.”

---

TK considered himself to be in pretty good shape. His firefighter training made sure of that. He’d been in the top 5 of his class in the academy and could definitely hold his own compared to the more experienced members of his crew.

Only the program he’d apparently signed up for now seemed designed to actually kill him. He was sure even Navy SEALS would think it was too much.

The morning run wasn’t just a few miles in the area or even on a track, but through the woods near the facility. Uphill and down again. Avoiding tree roots, rocks, overgrown areas, and random holes.

They were running in a group but TK, as well as some other patients, were trailing behind.

Just as he was trying to figure out a route back to base camp as he’d started calling the clinic in his head, Carlos caught up with him.

“How are you holding up?”

“I don’t know. Fine.” TK panted. “Is this your tactic? Trying to kill me? If I’m dead I won’t think about wanting to use?”

Carlos chuckled.

“Has anyone ever told you, you can be pretty dramatic?”

TK grinned.

“Often. But it’s part of my charm.” He said and dropped down at the foot of a tree to catch his breath.

Carlos gestured to his coworker and the rest of the group to keep going and sat down next to him.

“So when did you decide to be an army drill sergeant?” TK asked, using his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“I’m a cop actually. Or… used to be I guess.”

“That explains a lot.”

“It does?”

“You like torturing people.”

“I like helping people.” Carlos insisted. “That’s why I left the force. A friend of a friend got me this job. I figured I could do more good here than arresting people for minor offences.”

TK nodded.

“That’s… very noble of you.” He settled on.

“Try telling my family that.” Carlos sighed. “My whole family is in law enforcement somehow. My dad especially wasn’t happy when I quit my job. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps, carry on the family legacy.”

“Yeah… I know a thing or two about following in your father’s footsteps.” TK said and leaned back against the tree.

They sat in silence for a while until they heard the rest of the group coming closer and got up to join them again.

---

“So how did you end up here? You don’t seem like the typical Californian surfer dude.”

Carlos laughed.

“What do they look like then?”

TK shrugged.

“I don’t know. Not like you. More… bleached blond and beady necklaces. And flip flops.”

“Well you’ve got me there. I’m from Texas originally. Austin.”

“Really?”

“Yup. I grew up on a ranch on the outskirts of the city.”

“A ranch? So you’re a farmer? Or a cowboy?”

“Neither. Both. It’s complicated.”

TK nodded.

“Does complicated have a name?”

“Yeah. Dad.”

It had become a thing. Whenever they could get away with it, TK and Carlos would just hang out and talk. No pressure from the group sessions or the one on one talks with his assigned therapist, but just the two of them.

Since he’d gone through the worst of the withdrawal in hospital back in New York, his treatment mostly consisted of working on his mental health. And thankfully for him, talking to Carlos did just that. They had a similar sense of humour, similar complicated relationships with their families, and just generally got on well.

He’d told him about Alex, Carlos told him about marrying his best friend in an attempt to please his family.

“How did that work out for you?”

“Badly.” Carlos shrugged. “I mean we’re still friends… and my mom had a framed picture of us on display with the rest of the family pictures. For a while I told myself that meant I’d done the right thing. But it wasn’t.”

“If we were allowed to drink here, I’d buy you a beer and we could raise a glass to making bad decisions to please our parents.”

---

A few days later, the group TK was in was going on a hike with an overnight stay in the woods near the clinic.

TK was less than enthusiastic about it, and told Carlos as much (repeatedly) as he helped pack tents and other gear.

“Just think of it as going camping.” Carlos offered. “It’ll be fun. Connecting with nature and stuff. Maybe I can even smuggle in some ‘smores.”

TK gave him a blank look.

“I’m from NYC. I grew up in Manhattan. My parents are workaholics. What makes you think I ever went camping as a kid.?”

“You mean you never pitched a tent in central park?” Carlos joked. “Or maybe swam in that fountain you see in every movie?”

“I’ve done a lot of things in Central Park…” TK started. “But somehow never that.”

“Well, maybe you should. It’s good to have a goal in life.”

“Only if you come bail me out when I get arrested.”

“I don’t know, it’s kind of a long commute from here.”

TK laughed and ducked his head. Their talks had started to get a little, or a lot, flirty and he was fairly confident Carlos liked it as much as he did. Liked him.

Only every time TK thought the other man might make a move, or when he was hyping himself up to do so, Carlos would come up with some excuse that meant he had to be as far away from TK as possible for at least a couple of hours.

He wanted to ask why but also wasn’t ready for a simple answer like Carlos just not liking him like that.

So instead he said nothing and just admired Carlos from a distance and made himself talk to other people.

Which was going fine until about 15 minutes into their hike when one of the other patients tripped and fell down a hill.

TK’s first responders training kicked in and he rushed over to them, skidding and sliding down the hill.

“Let me have a look, I’m a paramedic. Don’t move.” He told the woman. He’d talked to her a few times and vaguely remembered her name was Hannah and she was from Wisconsin. He tried to examine her as best he could without his medical gear. She had a head wound and her leg was obviously broken.

He noticed someone coming down the hill after them and didn’t have to look to know it was Carlos.

“I have a first aid kit. It’s got the basics.” He said, unzipping his backpack.

With Carlos’ help, TK managed to treat Hannah’s injuries while one of the other staff members radioed for a medevac to get her out of there and to a hospital.

“Someone needs to get up there to show the helicopter where exactly we are. It’s the only place they’ll be able to land.” Carlos said, nodding at a an open place higher up from where they were and turned to TK. “How are you with heights?”

“Fine.” TK shrugged. “I’m a firefighter.”

“I thought you said you were a paramedic?”

“I am. Both. I’m dual certified.”

“Really? That’s impressive.”

They carefully climbed up to the landing spot and with help of the rest of the group and the paramedics, they got Hannah onto the helicopter and on her way to the hospital.

“You two make a pretty good team.” Luke, one of the other patients said, and TK found himself agreeing with him.

“Yeah, we do, don’t we?” Carlos said with a smile.

---

“We’ll set up camp on the other side of this river.” One of the other staff members announced as the group walked up to a river a while later.

“And how do we get there?” TK asked, fearing he already knew the answer.

“We cross it.”

“By bridge?”

Next to him Carlos laughed.

“Did they teach you to swim in firefighter training?”

“They did not actually. The only water I handled in that was the kind that’s supposed to save you from burning to death in abandoned warehouses.”

“That’s… oddly specific.” Lexi, the other staff member commented.

TK shrugged.

“It’s the easiest thing to set up for training recruits.”

“Anyway.” Carlos clapped his hands. “I hope everyone can swim because we’re going through the water to the other side of the river.”

“And how do we do that with all of the stuff we’ve been dragging around?” TK asked him.

“You tell me.”

TK raised an eyebrow.

“This is beginning to feel more and more like summer camp. Or boy scouts.”

“I thought you’d never been a boy scout?”

“I’ve seen them on tv.”

Carlos laughed.

“Well in the beginning you were calling this basic training for Navy SEALs so I guess you’re getting used to it all.” He winked and TK suddenly didn’t mind the hiking and the camping so much anymore.

After some arguing and general chaos, the group managed to work together to create some kind of raft to get them and their gear to the other side of the river, without swimming.

Only the raft wasn’t very stable and when it was TK’s turn, he leaned to one side too much, causing the raft to flip and him ending up in the water.

Thankfully it was a warm day so he didn’t mind too much. But he could’ve done without making a fool out of himself in front of Carlos.

Carlos who was getting into the water with him to help him get his stuff onto the river bank.

Carlos who looked unfairly gorgeous in a wet t shirt.

“Are you ok?” He asked TK who was trying to swim to shore with some of his dignity intact.

“Yeah. Just a bruised ego.”

After the rest of the group made it across in one piece, they all helped Carlos and TK get out of the water and see how much of their stuff was still ok to use.

“I think you two should just go dry out in the sun for a while.” Lexi told them. “We’ll lay out your tent, TK, so it can dry too.”

“My tent is big enough for the both of us.” Carlos cut in. “We’ll lay your sleeping bag out in the sun and we’ll just share my tent. If that’s ok with you?” He asked TK who was about to actually jump for joy.

“Sure.” He replied, hoping he sounded a lot more casual than he felt. “I promise I don’t snore.” He joked.

“That’s ok. I can sleep through anything. My sisters used to share a bedroom next to mine when I was a kid and they fought a lot. The walls were paper thin.” Carlos told him as he and TK made their way over to a sunny spot by some rocks near to where the rest of the group was setting up the camp.

TK sat down and closed his eyes, tilting his face up to the afternoon sun.

“We should probably get out of these wet clothes.” Carlos said after a few minutes.

TK opened his eyes and looked at him plucking at his wet t-shirt, obviously uncomfortable.

He grinned.

“Are you trying to get me naked?

“What? No, no, no. I just don’t want you to catch hypothermia. And neither do I.”

“Well, you know the best way to warm up is sharing body heat.”

Carlos looked at him for what seemed like hours and TK could practically see the cogs turning in his head, working through the various replies, trying to find one that was still the right side of professional.

Fortunately or unfortunately, he wasn’t sure, some of the other patients joined them and their little hang out for two turned into a group therapy session.

“Oh my god, look at that!” TK exclaimed a little while later. “Don’t move guys, you’ll scare him off.”

Carlos followed TK’s line of sight and noticed a small lizard sitting on a nearby rock, observing the intruders in his territory, trying to find out if they were a threat.

“Look at him, he’s so cute.” TK slowly crawled over to the lizard. “Hey buddy. Did you come to say hello?” He carefully moved his hand to try and pet the animal.

“Careful. It might bite.”

“Not if it doesn’t feel threatened. It’s just coming to take a look. He’s just a curious little guy.”

“You like reptiles?” Luke asked, the look on his face making it clear he definitely didn’t.

“Yeah. They’re gorgeous and they can make such great pets. I had a friend in middle school who had a leopard gecko. It was so cute and smart. I was over there all the time.” TK said excitedly. “I practically begged my parents for a lizard for my birthday from then on. I did all the research and worked out where to buy food and everything.”

“Did you ever get it?” Carlos asked.

TK shook his head.

“My dad wanted a dog and my mom had and still has a parrot called Ginsburg.”

“After Ruth Bader Ginsburg?”

“Yeah. My mom’s a lawyer and a politics junkie.” TK said absentmindedly, while still trying to befriend the lizard. The entire group watched with bated breath as he slowly moved his pointer finger closer to the lizard’s head.

Only right before he could have touched it, the lizard decided it had had enough and scurried off.

TK pulled a disappointed face and sat back down.

“Better luck next time.” Luke offered and TK nodded.

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll get a lizard when I’m done here and going back home.”

Their little group spent the rest of the afternoon talking and just enjoying being out in nature.

By the time it started to get dark, they moved back to the place where they’d put up the tents and everyone got comfortable around the fire.

They talked, shared stories of their lives back home, and offered each other advice and support.

As the night went on, one by one people started calling it a night until it was just Carlos and TK left by the fire.

“Alone at last.” TK said as he moved to sit next to Carlos. “I thought they’d never leave us alone.”

Carlos glanced at him at smiled.

“Are you not enjoying spending time with your fellow patients?”

“They’re alright.” TK shrugged. “But I’d rather spend time with one person in particular.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. He’s kind, helpful, sweet, a great listener, and absolutely insanely gorgeous.”

Carlos bit his lip.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I’m a mess.” TK shook his head.

“Maybe. But you’re a hot mess.” Carlos told him, the late hour and the bubble they found themselves in apparently turning off any filter between his brain and his mouth.

TK felt his cheeks heat up but decided to throw caution to the wind and make his move. He leaned in, looking down at Carlos’ lips and back up into the soulful brown eyes that made his heart flutter.

The moment his lips met Carlos’ he felt himself come alive in ways he hadn’t ever thought possible. It started off as nothing more than a press of lips but soon grew more heated as TK ran his tongue along Carlos’ lips until he opened up for him.

He licked into his mouth while his hands had found their way into Carlos’ hair, running his fingers through the soft curls as Carlos ran his hands over TK’s back, pulling him impossibly closer.

Somewhere in the back of his mind TK knew someone could catch them at any given moment, but the feeling of finally getting to kiss Carlos after weeks of quietly pining for him was too good to stop and he wanted more.

He moved his hands from Carlos’ hair, down to his waist and slipping them under his shirt, letting them roam over his chest and stomach.

Carlos pulled back and started kissing his neck and TK discovered he was really into that.

Only when TK’s hands moved lower and started blindly fumbling with the button on Carlos’ jeans, somehow the spell was broken and the moment was gone.

Carlos jumped up and touched his fingers to his lips.

“This… can’t happen.”

“Why not?” TK asked, getting up and taking a step towards him. “We both want it.”

“I’m supposed to be helping you. I can’t take advantage of you like this.”

TK rolled his eyes.

“It’s not taking advantage if I want it.”

Carlos shook his head.

“We can’t. I… I can’t jeopardise your sobriety like this.”

“My sobriety is my own responsibility. That’s what this program is teaching me isn’t it? To take responsibility for my actions. This is me doing that. I want to kiss you and I know you want it too.”

TK took another step forward and closed the distance between them. He slowly leaned in and put his hand on Carlos’ cheek while looking him in the eye.

“I want this.” He said before pressing his lips to Carlos’ in a soft chaste kiss that couldn’t be more different from the first one.

Carlos seemed to almost melt under his touch and TK felt his resolve slipping as he started to kiss him back.

At least until his brain caught up with the rest of his body and he pulled away again.

“I can’t. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have… I just… I can’t. If anyone finds out I’ll get fired so fast… I’m crossing so many lines.”

“I don’t care. I like you. I want this.” TK told him.

“I do care.” Carlos said, almost begging him to understand. “I want to help people get their life back on track. I can’t… do this. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have… I screwed up. I’m sorry.”

“Do you not like me?” TK asked when Carlos had to pause his rambling to take a breath.

“I do. I like you a lot. And if things were different I wouldn’t hesitate to take you out on a date or cook you dinner… But I can’t take advantage of the situation like this.”

“But you’re not.” TK said, trying to make him understand. “You’re not.”

“I am. I’m supposed to help you. I’m supposed to… I don’t know… guide you. You’re a client. I’m in a position of power.”

“What if we just forget that? Just for tonight. And tomorrow we’ll just go back to how things were before.”

Carlos gave him a small smile and TK could tell he was seriously considering it.

“I wish I could.” He replied. “But I don’t think I could go back if I let myself get lost in you. You are… a force to be reckoned with TK Strand. And I wish things were different. I wish we’d just met in a bar or getting a coffee downtown. I wish I could get to know you without all of this.”

“You could. You can. The program is almost over. Nobody has to know. I won’t tell if you don’t.” TK told him and stepped closer again. “Please don’t make me beg.”

Carlos smiled and ran a hand through TK’s hair.

“You deserve the world.” He told him. “And don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”

Carlos stepped away and disappeared into the tent, only to come back out with his sleeping bag almost right away.

“I’ll sleep out here. It’s supposed to stay dry anyway.”

“Carlos don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. I can’t share a tent with you and not touch you. I don’t think I would be able to control myself.”

“Then don’t.” TK pleaded and he could tell Carlos was this close to giving in.

He took a deep breath and made himself step away.

“If things were different…” He looked at TK and shook his head slightly. “It’s better this way.”

The rest of his time in California, TK spent mostly on his own, mourning something he’d never really had.

A few other patients noticed he and Carlos weren’t attached at the hip anymore and his assigned therapist noticed his mood had changed.

He fed all of them some line about being homesick and ended up calling his dad and agreeing to join him in Austin.

On his last day, Carlos was nowhere to be found and TK told himself to accept he just wasn’t interested.

He said goodbye to the friends he’d made and made them promise to look him up if they ever found themselves in Austin Texas. He’d slipped a note under Carlos’ door telling him the same.

“Station 126. Just ask for me.”

One of the staff members TK had only seen but never talked to drove him to the airport and wished him the best.

When he landed in Austin, his dad was waiting for him and pulled him into a hug the moment he walked through the doors after the luggage reclaim.

The house Owen had bought looked like something straight from a home improvement show and TK did his best to make it feel like home.

The dog he’d adopted was a nice distraction and TK took it out on long walks to explore Austin together.

His new coworkers were nice enough and after a few weeks of working together they’d become a close knit friend group.

He hadn’t told them about Carlos however. He hadn’t told anyone. That kiss was his memory and his alone.

Though maybe he should take Paul and Marjan up on their offer of going out to explore the Austin nightlife on their next day off.

Maybe there would be someone to make him forget about Carlos, even if just for one night.

---

“I’m just saying, when in Rome. Or… when in Texas.” A young woman in a hijab said to a black man standing near her as they cleaned the fire engine. Carlos watched them through the open bay doors for a moment before taking a deep breath and walking in.

“Hi… I’m looking for TK Strand. Does he work here?”

“That depends. Who’s asking?” the woman asked.

“I’m Carlos. I’m a… friend from California.” He settled on, not sure how much TK’s coworkers knew about him.

Confusion flashed over the woman’s face and she looked at the man who just shrugged.

“Ok. Wait here. I’ll go see if he’s available.” She instructed him and turned around and walked up some stairs.

When she returned a few minutes later TK was right behind her.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and just stared.

“Carlos? What are you doing here?”

“You told me to look you up if I ever decided to go back to Austin… here I am.”

“I… Yeah… I can see that.” TK stammered, still not quite believing what he was seeing.

The woman and the man from before were still lurking, ready to jump in the moment they deemed it necessary.

“You ok TK?” the woman asked.

“Yeah, yeah it’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. He’s alright. He’s not the guy from New York.”

The woman nodded.

“Alright. Just yell if you need anything. There are a bunch of firefighters up there who have your back.” She said, not quite talking to TK anymore.

“I know. Thanks Marj.”

The woman nodded again and walked back up the stairs, the man following close behind.

“She’s…” Carlos trailed off, not sure what to say.

“Yeah. I told them about my ex… and my OD.”

“Oh. Good. I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure what you’d told people here…”

“Thanks, but I’ve decided to stop hiding who I am.” TK shrugged. “My addiction is always going to be a part of me. Hiding it won’t change that.”

Carlos nodded.

“That’s… that’s good. I uh… I’ve decided to do the same I guess.” He told TK.

“Not hide your addiction anymore? I didn’t think you had one?”

Carlos shook his head.

“No. I mean… I’m not going to hide who I am anymore. I’m just… still kind of figuring out who that is.”

TK smiled.

“Well… the person I met in California was kind, a good listener, gentle with a slight sadistic streak.” He joked and they both laughed. “What are you really doing here Carlos?”

“I quit my job in California. I’m back in Austin.” Carlos explained. “I’m staying with a friend right now until I get a place of my own.”

“Ok.”

“I just… I know it’s been a few weeks but… I can’t get you out of my head.” He stepped forward and reached out to grab TK’s hand, smiling when TK let him. “I’d like to get to know you… without… everything… from California.”

“But the stuff from California didn’t just go away when I completed the program.”

“I know. But I also know there is more to you than just your addiction.” He took TK’s other hand in his. “Remember when I told you I’d want to cook you dinner and take you out on a date?”

“The night you insisted on sleeping outside because I’d kissed you? Yeah I remember.”

“It was the right decision at the time… but… now things are different… so… if… if you’re still interested… maybe we could… go on that date sometime? And you’d let me cook you dinner?”

“That depends, will you end up sleeping under the stars again?”

Carlos laughed.

“Maybe. If my friend won’t let us use her place. I’ll have to sleep in my car.”

“Do you have a big car?”

“No. Not exactly. I drive a Camaro. Looks cool but limited space for sleeping.”

“Well hopefully your friend will be in a good mood then.”

“Yeah… so is that a yes?”

TK smiled.

“Yeah. It’s a yes.”

Carlos’ smile got impossibly bigger.

“How does Friday sound?”

TK let go of Carlos’ hands and cupped his face.

“It’s a date.” He said and leaned in and kissed Carlos.

Somewhere behind them a chorus of cheers and wolf whistles erupted.

“I think your friends approve.”

#911 lone star #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #my writing

10 notes · View notes

hebimoonlightwrites · 1 year

Note

Yandere! Jakurai wants to take his crush (with she/her pronounce) on date in Valentine's day but then find out that she's already taken by other guy! As a drabble without any sketches!!!! Thank you!!!

Writer's corner: Hii, sweetheart! Thank you so much for requesting! I really hope you'll like the drabble! If not, please let me know, so I can fix it or make another one for you! Happy Valentine's Day!~♥

Words: 1033

S/O's pronouns: SHE/HER

!!!Warnings: YANDERE!, Blood, surgical scalpel, obsession, stalking, murder.. (Please, do not read if you're easily impressionable. Read at your risk and respectfully. I do not support violence, stalking or anything in this fic!!!)!!!

~♥𝙸𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕, 𝚜/𝚘?♥~

I started writing a diary.

I started writing a diary about her.. As a doctor I know writing a diary can help people a lot. It's a sort of therapy too, after all.. But I did start to write a diary not about me… But about her.. I wrote about her life, her routine, her friends, her hobbies… And I loved to see this diary softly getting its pages full of words related to her. Someone could think of me as a crazy man but… no.. I wasn't crazy.. I was in love instead. I loved her.. I wanted to know her, to have her only for me. I wanted to see her beautiful smile each morning and night beside me in my bed. I wanted to listen constantly to her soothing voice, to caress her soft and perfect skin.. I wanted to have her only for myself..

"Good morning, Jakurai!", she once said as she entered my office while I was busy caressing a picture of her I was hiding. It's useless to tell you all, my dear s/o, that I put that pic away immediately as I saw you entering. I put it in a near drawer as I tried to look at you seeming as calm and friendly as always.. In deep I know you were driving me crazy… Maybe you had already driven me insane…

As s/o approached smiling, she spoke again with her adorable and melodious voice, while my heart started to beat again. I tried to keep my body's shivers as much invisible as I could.. I didn't want to scare her with my love~ "I've known that you've been sick lately.. yet you're already here in your office working.. How are you?..", s/o's eyes looked so deep and profoundly worried for me.. I couldn't help but let my heart melting in front of her. Damn, s/o… Why are you the only one who knows how to drive me crazy?.. The thought of having her all for myself grew as I decided to plan something in particular: she would have been mine in anyway. I just needed to get her in love with me.. I looked at the calendary I had on the wall in my office: February 10… Perfect..! I'd have invited her to a date with me.. I'd obtain her love no matter how I'd do it.. I'd even kill all those who'd have dared to be against my love for her! N-no..!..

Without wanting it, I put my hands on my head, closing my eyes softly. My head hurt and.. I didn't even know why… Oh, s/o… You have no idea what kind of power you have on me…~ "J-Jakurai..!!", she stood up and approached me, getting closer and looking at my face as I kept holding my head silently. She tried to comfort me or even understand more what was going on with me.. Ooh… Whatever it was… ..It felt good. You know why, s/o? Because as you touched my cold and pale hands with yours, keeping your worried expression on me… I felt warmth into my body.. I felt the necessity to have you for me more. I felt love~ Isn't it wonderful, s/o? As my head stopped hurting, I opened my eyes only to see your beautiful face, your soft cheeks and your deep eyes in front of me. I shivered, my body wanted you, my sould needed you, my brain afraid of losing you because of another… I wouldn't have allowed it to happen.. Ever… "S/o.. would you have a date with me on Valentine's Day?", I asked, keeping that stupid friendly smile on my face. And you blushed, darling.. You really did! You have no idea how I loved to see you blush that heavy for me… And you have no idea how disappointed I was when you said you wouldn't have come to a date with me because you was already taken.. because you already had a partner… I was sooo sad, darling~.. You upset me~ But it didn't matter.. You'd have been mine… And I would have treated you well as long as you'd have promised to be mine and only mine.. No one else would have ever dared to touch you.. not even with the point of their dirty fingers… Or I…

It was your scream the only noise I heard that night.. Your desperate yell was the only noise to break the silence of the night in your neighborhood, as I turned to face your frightened expression.. You looked so adorable, s/o as you kept looking at me terrified by what I was doing to your precious partner.. His body looked so disgusting now, laying there, in blood with his chest completely dismembered.. I was wearing my surgical mask as my hands, which were completely wet from his red and nauseating blood, were holding not only a scalpel, but his heart too… As you noticed even the presence of his heart in my hands you started screaming more. What a beautiful melody it was to my ears, darling.. You have no idea how much I loved you that time… Caught by your presence, I looked at you, slowly standing from the body of your precious partner, still holding his disgusting heart with my bare hands. I let my scalpel falling onto the pavement, near to him, as I tightened my grasp on his heart, approaching you. No, my beloved… I wasn't crazy as you thought… I was completely in love with you.. Your eyes got open wider as you realized who was that insane man in front of you.. "J-Jakurai…", you whispered. I tightened my grasp on your fool partner's heart more, as I reached you. We weren't that close but it was enough to talk to you, to make you analize your disgusting boyfriend's heart.. "My beloved s/o.. My only and unique love… Does he still look that handsome to your eyes now?!", I whispered behind my surgical mask. "You upset me… by behaving like this, darling…", I took off my mask, smiling insanely. "You know you shouldn't bother a doctor when he's working…"

©hebimoonlightwrites_tumblr Please, do not copy my contents nor repost it without my permission.

#hypnosis microphone #hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypnosis mic drabbles #hypmic drabbles #drabbles #hypmic matenrou #hypmic matenro #matenrou #matenro #hypnosis mic matenrou #hypmic jakurai #jinguji jakurai #hypmic yandere

12 notes · View notes

ghoste-catte · 3 years

Note

I was curious what advice would you give to someone new to writing fics? I've been wanting to get back into it but haven't seriously written something since high school. I hope this isn't an annoying question or anything!

Not an annoying question at all! I'm just a little worried that I won't have terribly good or useful advice. To be honest, I also sort of stopped writing in earnest right as I finished high school, and didn't pick it back up until my late 20s. It's certainly an adjustment! But I think the few things that really helped me get back into writing fic as a hobby and something I spend quite a bit of time on would be:

Write for yourself first, then find your other motivations. My original inspiration in getting back into fic writing was that there just were not that many fics I liked for my favorite pairing, and I wanted more of them, and I especially wanted more with the tropes and characterizations I wanted to see. I think at the very core of anything you need that internal spark that drives you. At the same time, for me at least, if I just relied on my own drive, I would not get much done; I need some external guardrails. So having people send prompts, or writing for particular events, or writing stuff for friends really helps me to get my ass in gear and finish stuff. That may not be the perfect motivator for you, and that's fine! You just gotta figure out what is.

Be open to inspiration. Anything and everything can be spun out into a story with the right tweaking. Obviously stuff like music is a classic inspiration source, but I've also pulled ideas from poetry, from memes, from Reddit threads, from YouTube videos, from rambling conversations on Discord and from real life to make fics out of. So many times, someone will post a silly Twitter screencap, and I'll think, There's a fic in this. And a lot of the time, there is! Research is a wonderful thing, but so is serendipity. If you're out there actively looking for ideas, eventually one that you like will stumble past you.

Find your community. I can genuinely say I never would have finished more than one fic if I didn't have fandom friends to talk to about even stupid headcanons, to bounce ideas off of, and to encourage me (and to encourage them in turn!). Discord has been a godsend, and some of my closest online friends are people I met in the GaaLee discord server. As I've gotten more comfortable as a writer, I've also joined general writing servers and Reddit communities and have found them immensely helpful on both a motivational level (bingos, sprints, owe-me challenges) and on a craft level (plot workshopping and writing ethics and live grammar help). It's a lot easier to think about fic ideas and hash through problem moments when I have a constant stream of fandom-related chatter coming from the little people who live in my phone! Ao3 is an amazing website, and it's great as, well, an archive, but it isn't social media by design. If you want conversation and human connection and cheerleading, you've gotta forge out and find it.

Make it a habit ... If you want to produce anything longer than a couple hundred words, you really have to set aside time for it. And writing is just like knitting or dirt biking or painting little model figurines: the more you do it, the more easily it comes. When I was first getting back into the proper swing of things, I committed myself to 30 minutes of writing per week. Just 30 minutes. I didn't even hit that goal every week, but there were tons of weeks I got on a roll and went over that amount, and by the end of the year I'd written over 200,000 words. I used to spend an hour laboriously tip-tapping out 200 words, but now I can easily blow through 1k in a 50 minute sprint. It's all about training that muscle.

... But don't make it a chore. With fanfic, you aren't doing this as a job, and you aren't ultimately doing it for anyone other than you. That means you can take breaks when you need them, you can set deadlines and then fail to meet them, you can write stuff and then decide to never post it. When you start getting burnt out, when the practice loses the joy and energy, stop. There's no 'hustle' here. In our capitalist society we're so trained to push past our limits and keep going even when it hurts us, but the hobby you do for connection and relaxation and whatever else shouldn't be like that.

Ignore metrics. Sometimes stuff isn't gonna get hits, or kudos, or comments. There are some basic 'rules' as to the stuff that does and doesn't get traction, but every time you post something it's a roll of the dice. If you're focused on watching that kudos counter tick up, you will get bummed out fast. And any writer will tell you that the stuff you think is your best work will never be the stuff that gets the most accolades. So you have to find something else to give you a sense of success. For me, it's watching my wordcount go up in my stats and those occasional comments where someone has a lot to say and that one person who always leaves me a <3 emoji (and, shout out to @egregiousderp, having someone to have long one-on-one conversations with about the stuff that never made it to page).

Don't strive for perfection. It's really easy to want your first ever fic to be a complete showstopper, the best fic fandom has ever seen, hitting all the tropes and the ideas and the characterization that you just know fandom is missing and would be everyone's top favorite if only it was written. This is a trap. No one fic can be all things. Most people who want to write an epic as their very first venture will not see the end of that epic, because they haven't put in the practice hours to make something on that scale work. That's not to say you can't start out with a big, sprawling multichap, just don't expect it to be the greatest thing since sliced bread if you're just starting out, and be okay with abandoning it for greener pastures if you get to that point. Think of the first time someone makes a vase out of clay or bakes a loaf of bread. That's never their best vase or their best bread. If they keep up with it, they'll make more and better vases and loaves. Likewise, your first fic is probably not gonna be your best fic. See it for what it is: your launchpad.

You can't edit an empty page, but you can over-edit a full one. This kind of spins off of #7, but if the words aren't there, you can't fix them. Daydreams and headcanons are fantastic (and god, how many times have I wished for a speech-to-text engine that projected my falling asleep thoughts onto a Google doc for later perusal), but they aren't fic. If you want to write fic, you've gotta get comfortable with the idea of sloppy outlines and rough first drafts. You can't build a house without a frame and you can't build a man without a skeleton (I mean, you can, I guess, but he'd be one floppy man). The nice thing about fic is that it doesn't matter if that frame is structurally unsound or the skeleton has 18 too many bones, you can clean that up in the editing process. But you can't start hanging curtains and arranging furniture in something that doesn't even have walls. That's the process. But! Also know when to set down the editor's pen and say, "Okay, this is good enough for government work", and call it done. ("Done" doesn't have to mean "posted", but it does mean, "I'm done picking at this for now, and I'm gonna go write some more stuff".) Over-editing can make stuff seem laborious and forced, and it prevents you from actually improving. To continue belaboring the house metaphor, you can spend your whole life rearranging furniture in just one room, but the end result of that is a pretty narrow existence and a room with a lot of footprints and tracks in the carpet.

Write shit down. When you have ideas, jot them down--in a notebook, in a Google Doc, in the Notes app of your phone, in pen on the back of your hand. You think you will remember that brilliant line of dialogue or sparkling snippet of narration or genius plot that came to you in a dream, but you Will Not. Write it down. Write it down. Write it down! There have been so many times when a fic was completely saved by past!me having written down my shower thoughts about what happens next in the fic, that present!me had completely forgotten about and was floundering over.

Have fun with it! Try different stuff. Try stupid stuff. Try experimental stuff. Do stuff you've never done before that you aren't sure will work. It's important to get comfortable with your niche (for example, I know I'm never going to be the sort of person who writes intricate plots of intrigue or super long 100k epics or detailed battles), but you can't find that niche unless you explore lots of different niches! Figure out what you love and what you absolutely hate, and then keep doing the stuff you love.

Okay, so that was actually TEN things, but ... I hope you still found this helpful. Feel free to send another ask if any of this was confusing or unclear. Good luck with your fic writing and, if you want, send me a link to what you've written once you've written it! I'd love to read it.

#answered #anonymous #writing advice #i guess?#am i qualified to give this?#no #but im doing it anyway

81 notes · View notes

esmealux · 3 years

Note

Hi there! For the two-part drabble, may I request Deckerstar in situation 13 (someone does something stupid) with sentence 6 ("Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That's still up for debate.") Thank you, and I've really really been enjoying your the updates on your Planning a Hell of a Wedding fic!

Hey! It took me two months (including more than one month of writing) but I've now finally finished your prompt. Another anon had requested 25 (being somewhere you're not supposed to) + 6 and dear @my-crazy-awesome-sox had requested 26 (a very cheesy date) + 6, so I've merged all your prompts into one 7K+ long 'drabble'. Hope you don't mind!

And I'm glad you like the updates on PHW! I'll try to write some more now that I've finished this.

Hope you like this!

Also, an immense special thanks to @my-crazy-awesome-sox for helping me with this fic. She truly has been a godsend, and a lot of the wording (especially in the later parts) is kindly and almost directly borrowed from her mind. Thank you again, babe!

Also thanks to @lightbringer-666 for assisting me with some French. If all the French isn't perfect, it's because I also googled my way to a lot of it. Apologies in advance (and please do let me know if there's anything I should change!)

Someone does something stupid + being somehwere you're not supposed to + a very cheesy date + 'Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That's still up for debate.'

Rated M. Post 5B - contains spoilers!

Read on AO3 (includes list with English translations)

It’s ridiculous, really. The butterflies fluttering in her stomach like she’s a schoolgirl waiting for her prom date. It’s not even their first date. It’s not even their second. The thing is, between becoming God and Consultant, revising a few laws of the cosmos, fixing some bugs in humanity, bringing Dan to Heaven, and going to therapy, she and Lucifer haven’t had much time for, well, each other. At least not in ways that didn’t involve discussions about the redesign of the afterworld and how to sate world hunger. So yes, she is a little giddy with excitement at the thought of having a whole evening to themselves—no celestial craziness. Just the two of them and a bottle of the restaurant’s finest.

If Lucifer would just show up.

She checks her phone. 06:14. Unlike last time she anxiously waited for him in a restaurant, there’s a text.

Running a bit late. Please forgive me. Can’t wait to see you ❤

And one more.

Sorry. Can’t wait to see you naked*

Chloe shakes her head, a stupid smile spreading across her face. She resists typing back a flirty reply—he’ll be with her in a minute, and she is nota schoolgirl—and puts her phone back in her clutch. Hands trembling a little, she smooths out invisible creases in the dress he’s bought her. It’s short and tight, of course, but perfectly so. Reaching mid-thigh, with a small slit revealing a bit more of her left thigh. Black, unsurprisingly; he still hasn’t gotten over how delectable she looked in the LBD she wore on their last ‘date’. And this one makes her legs look even longer, which is undoubtedly the primary reason Lucifer picked it. Still, it isn’t skimpy. He could have opted for a deep neckline and cold shoulders—she almost expected him to when he said he’d bought her a dress—but he didn’t. Instead, the short and skin-tight skirt is perfectly balanced with a high neck and long bell sleeves that are cut open just above her joints, making the soft fabric flow around her bare underarms. She likes it—would probably have bought it herself if it weren’t crazy expensive. Likes how it makes her feel both sexy and classy and most of all comfortable, likes that he knows her so well.

She fidgets with her earring and traces the rim of her empty wine glass with her fingertip, watching people as much as she can from their semi-private corner. She spots an Oscar-winning film director, a retired NFL player, that pop star Lucifer pretends to hate, and just how expensive isthis place?

She’s immediately distracted by the shift in the air and the sound of Italian loafers approaching her.

‘My me, Detective!’

His brown eyes roam her figure as she stands to kiss him. Their lips meet in a soft peck that could easily have turned into more if Lucifer hadn’t pulled away to look her up and down.

‘You look like a goddess.’

Chloe snorts and chuckles, not yet used to the title he insists is hers if she’ll have it. She puts a hand on his chest, gazing up at him with a smile.

‘You don’t look too bad yourself.’

He hums and leans in for another kiss, but something comes between them this time. They both look down—at a dozen red roses.

‘Those for me?’ she asks, warmth spreading in her chest.

Lucifer hands her the bouquet with a nod and that soft smile she loves more than anything. He pulls out her chair, a gentle hand on her shoulder as she sits down, and sits down himself.

There’s a card nestled between the velvet petals: ‘For the Detective & Consultant’, her old and new moniker scribbled side by side in his annoyingly elegant handwriting. The latter nickname, however, is written in smaller, cramped letters—an afterthought. She smiles.

She turns the card, expecting to find a dirty, eye-roll-deserving comment on the back. But there’s no lewd joke or naughty promise.

It simply says, ‘I love you.’

Her heart swells, filling her chest till it aches. It’s all so new still. Not the love between them, but how it’s uninhibited now. It’s not like they don’t have their obstacles—just yesterday they had a fight—but there’s no doubt anymore, no voices telling them some dreams simply cannot be. They might have a whole universe to deal with, but for the first time ever, things between them are easy. No words are left unsaid. No feelings are squashed. No time is wasted. Every day is spent wrapped in each other’s love. Finally.

‘I love you too,’ she tells him, and he lights up, amazed. Confident. Their hands find each other on the table, fingers intertwining.

A waiter comes by with two menu cards and a vase for the flowers. Chloe reads through the menu carefully, pretending to know what kind of food hides behind the fancy French names. Lucifer sees right through her, sighs, and orders some hors d’œuvres, two of something she couldn’t pronounce if she tried, and a bottle of red.

‘So, were you stuck in traffic, or…?’ Chloe asks him with a glint in her eye as the waiter pours her a generous glass of wine. The celestial being with the supernatural metabolism can drive home.

The being in question looks confused for a moment before he answers, ‘Ah, no. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ For a brief second, he looks at her as if he’s apologising for more than tonight, but she strokes his knuckles and smiles at him, you’re here now, and he moves on to explain himself. ‘I just couldn’t find this bloody suit. Only when I’d ransacked the house did I realise it was still at the penthouse, so I had to make a detour.’

He is a little excused; so many things are impossible to find right now, with more or less unpacked boxes spread out between her apartment, Lux, and their new home. In hindsight, moving in together while taking over the almighty family business probably wasn’t the best idea, but they’ll get settled soon enough. Besides, right now, what’s important is that Lucifer was late because of a wardrobe crisis, and she will not let that slide.

‘You couldn’t just wear one of your three hundred other suits?’

A flicker of hurt and sheepishness flashes across Lucifer’s face.

‘Well, this one is special.’

Chloe takes in his suit: the navy jacket, the matching waistcoat, the royal blue shirt.

‘Oh.’

He smirks at her as heat creeps up her cheeks (so much for not being a schoolgirl).

‘You remember?’

She does. Of course, she does. She remembers vividly—how shocked he’d been at first, how new and soft his lips had felt against hers. How they’d held onto each other until the sun was setting and she really did have to go home and feed Maze and Trixie.

She also remembers how she, later, behind closed lids, had ripped off the shirt and waistcoat in desperate need. How it’d earned her a husky chuckle and a breathy ‘D’tective!’, and the sinful Heaven that was his hot and open mouth.

‘You okay, darling?’ Lucifer looks at her, his expression somewhere between concerned and amused. His thumb brushes the back of her hand.

Chloe takes a sip of wine and clears her throat. Adjusts her necklace.

‘Yeah, just, you know. Reminiscing.’

He studies her flushed face for a second before his curious smile spreads into a full-blown Cheshire grin.

‘You had a wet dream about me, didn’t you?! After our first kiss?’

Chloe glares at him. ‘Say it a little louder for the people in the back, will ya?’ He opens his mouth, and she immediately feels the need to clarify, ‘Do not say it a little louder for the people in the back.’

His smile doesn’t falter. ‘I’m just ecstatic to know our first kiss left you all hot and bothered. I mean, not that I’m surprised.’ He brings his wine glass to his lips and lets go of her hand to gesture down himself.

Chloe rolls her eyes. ‘Yeah, like you didn’t go home and wanked yourself blind that night.’

He laughs, surprised by her bluntness, and shamelessly answers, ‘Why, of course I did. That night, other nights. Before and after that kiss. This morning. You serve as quite the spank bank, my dear.’

She definitely doesn’t blush at that. But she does glance down at his waistcoat, at the soft skin and hard muscles she knows hide beneath it. She gives him a slow and dirty smirk, appreciative.

‘You too, baby.’

Lucifer raises an eyebrow, his eyes darkening. Much to Chloe’s satisfaction, his neck and cheeks redden a little. Then he gives her a lopsided grin, smug and impressed.

‘Pray tell, Detective.’ His eyes glide down her face, her chest, her stomach, and slowly back up again.

In another time, she would have given him a stern look and told him it was none of his business, but she doesn’t. She also doesn’t tell him about lonely nights and long showers and crying his name into her pillow when they were still just friends. Instead, she leans across the table and half-whispers—

‘If you behave yourself tonight, I might show you.’

He gulps. Squirms a little in his seat, and—when he’s regained his composure and quite indiscreetly adjusted himself under the table—leans forward till there’s only mere inches between their faces.

‘Is that a promise?’ His voice is low and husky, his breath hot against her face. His eyes drop to her lips.

‘Pardon, monsieur, mais l’entrée est prête.’

They lean back in their seats and turn to the poor, young waiter, who’s balancing two seemingly heavy plates, a carafe of water, and a basket of crusty bread in his arms.

‘Lovely!’ Lucifer’s eyes follow the food as the waiter puts it down in front of them. ‘Merci beaucoup, Olivier.’

Olivier smiles at Lucifer, shy but with a look in his eyes Chloe knows all too well. She doesn’t blame him.

‘Ça va?’ Lucifer asks, his voice lined with genuine fondness.

Olivier nods. ‘Oui, ça va. Et toi?’

Lucifer looks to Chloe, beaming. He takes her hand on the table and interlocks their fingers again.

‘Tout va très bien,’ he answers, looking back up at Olivier with a dazzling smile.

Olivier’s eyes drop to their hands and, probably, to the ring, white and pearlescent, on Chloe’s third finger. His lips tug up at the corner.

‘Je peux voir ça. Félicitations!’ Before Lucifer can respond to that, whatever it means, Olivier gestures towards their food. ‘Et bon appétit.’

Lucifer replies with a friendly ‘merci’ and calls out something like ‘Salue ton père de ma part!’ as Olivier walks off.

Chloe stares at Lucifer, twirling the smashed bullet around her neck between her fingers.

‘What?’ he asks, curious.

She tilts her head, smiling. ‘French suits you.’

He smiles back, lasciviously. ‘Yeah?’

‘Mm-hm.’

The look he gives her leaves no doubt that, sooner or later, he’ll be whispering foreign phrases against her skin.

But right now, they have other appetites to sate. They dig into the first course, and the (assumedly) insanely high prices suddenly make sense, because it is frigging good. The main course is even more delicious—divine, actually, to the point where Chloe has to ask Lucifer if he accidentally spiked the food with a blessing or two. He assures her it’s all Olivier’s father, no holiness involved, apart from Chef Beaumont’s heavenly cœeur de filet de bœuf. Chloe moans in agreement, savouring every bite.

He watches her with a smile, jokingly apologising for not serving her grilled cheese, and she makes a bad joke about this date being cheesy enough as it is. Because it is cheesy. Him buying her a dress, bringing her red roses, the love note, the candlelit restaurant, the French food, not to mention the suit. It’s like a rom-com parody.

But it’s also perfect. It’s everything she’s longed for, an over-the-top romantic date night with her- with her partner. A date that isn’t cut short by a horny stewardess (may she rest in peace) or a failed attempt at exorcism; where Lucifer actually shows up and isn’t just trying to outdo another man; where Chloe isn’t trying to make him ‘do something good for a change’; and their parents aren’t tagging along on a headache-inducing surprise double date that is also a sting in disguise.

So, in some ways, it is kinda their first date.

And it’s a really, really nice date.

They laugh—they laugh so much. More than they’ve done in the past few months combined. Or so it feels, at least.

They laugh, and they talk. About movies they cried to, favourite drinks, and how they’re gonna paint the living room. About the summers spent under the plum tree in Nana’s garden, and all the pranks pulled in the gilded meadows of Heaven. About chasing Amenadiel through the clouds, and how Chloe always wanted a sibling. About her short-lived Hollywood experience and that one time she may have gotten a little high at a Backstreet Boys concert. (He seems impressed by that, her ‘abhorrent’ taste in music aside.) They exchange secrets they never told anyone, stories of bad kisses—Jed used too much tongue; Will was always better with words—and tales from drunken nights out. They reminisce on the first time they met—how annoying she’d found him, how compelling he’d found her—and the many, many cases, some really weird, that first encounter led to.

They talk about Dan.

About missing him, even though he’s making waffles with Charlotte now.

About Trixie, and how therapy seems to be helping her, too. How she still sometimes breaks down crying, but no longer crawls into their bed in the middle of the night, shaking and gasping for air. How she’d laughed the other day, and it’d made them both cry. How incredibly strong she is, that little urchin.

They talk about going to Paris one day, all three of them—the French do make excellent chocolate cakes—or maybe somewhere else she wants to see, once everything is calmer. They talk about some of the prayers Lucifer has been hearing, about faith and free will, what they miss about solving crimes together, what they don’t miss, and how they’re still very much partners, even more so now—in every corner of life.

They talk till their cheeks hurt from smiling and Chloe’s half-drunk on expensive Burgundy. Lucifer asks for the cheque, their food long gone, and pays with cash, making sure to leave a tip possibly the size of Olivier’s monthly salary.

They leave the restaurant giggling about a stupid joke Lucifer makes, his hand splayed out on the small of her back. Her own hand is placed much lower than what is decent for such a fancy place like this, practically cupping his ass, but she’s tipsy enough not to care, and he doesn’t seem to mind the attention. It’s his own fault, anyway, for having his pants tailored to hug his butt like this.

Naturally, Lucifer drives. He doesn’t hold back his comments on how slow and boring her car is, but at least he stays somewhere close to the speed limit. She wishes he’d also wear a seatbelt, and keep both hands on the wheel, but his palm is nice and warm on her thigh, and she trusts he’ll get them home safely. She leans back in her seat, her head comfortably buzzing from wine and him, and watches the blurry city lights through the window. He’s turned down 2ndStreet.

‘Where are we going?’ She looks over at him, curious.

He smiles in the shadows, his fingers stroking the skin left exposed by the slit in her dress. His touch leaves hot, tingling paths on her thigh.

‘I thought we’d go for a second desert.’

Chloe is beyond full, her dress stretched over her now slightly rounder belly, and she can think of other things she’d rather do (things that include pinning Lucifer to their bed and making him groan and beg and laugh), but she’ll never say no to a freshly brewed latte and watching Lucifer obscenely enjoy some Sicilian pastry.

She turns up the radio, fumbling a bit, and closes her eyes with a smile, more content than she’s been in… a long time. His hand stays on her thigh as they move through the night, fingers tapping to the beat of the songs against her skin, creeping higher, teasing, just enough to make her breath hitch, but nothing more, and then back down again. Maybe they’ll just take that latte to-go.

The car comes to a final halt, and first then does Chloe realise they haven’t stopped outside the late-night café and bakery that’s opened down on Spring Street.

‘Lucifer, what’—she looks around, double-checking—‘what are we doing at the back entrance to the precinct? You said we were getting desert.’

He leans across the centre console, fingers spreading on her thigh, and brings their faces so close their noses touch. Chloe swallows.

‘We are,’ he assures her with a wolfish grin, his gaze lingering hungrily on her, and she could jump him right then and there. But he takes his hand off her body and clicks her seatbelt free, pulls the key out of the ignition and exits the car. He strides to her side and opens the door for her, gentlemanly as ever, and she watches him with narrowed eyes as she takes his hand and steps out, sceptical even in her cloud of lust and inebriation.

He heads directly for the back entrance and opens the black iron door with ease, rudely ignoring the state-of-the-art security locks. A part of her knows she should stop him right there and give him a stern talking-to about respecting human laws—he still can’t do whatever the hell he likes just because he’s God now. But another part, the part of her who helped him empty two bottles of French wine, really wants to step over that threshold, to intertwine their fingers and go on a late-night adventure. And that part of her must overpower the other, because she lets him snake his arm around her waist and lead her through the door and inside the familiar building.

She senses him grinning by her side, his fingers curling around her hip in a deliciously tight grip that only stokes the heat pooling low in her belly. He takes her down the corridor, around the corner, and then they’re there, in the middle of the precinct. Everything is covered in darkness, the wide, open space only illuminated by a never-resting info screen and the purplish glow from the vending machine. Still, she can make out the shape of their desk, the door to Ella’s lab, the interrogation room. The fridge in the breakroom still hums obnoxiously, and the air smells like strong coffee and sugary glaze—or maybe that’s just a phantom. Either way, it all tugs at her heart, beckons her down memory lane, and she lets herself be pulled. Through the good, the bad, and the crazy.

Lucifer is quiet beside her, probably lost in nostalgia himself, or maybe just letting her have this moment. But not for long. With titillating eagerness and a devilish smirk, he wraps his fingers around her wrist and pulls her by the hand—towards the evidence closet.

He presses her up against the door, his body hot and hard against hers, and pins her hand against the cold glass of the frosted window. His dark eyes sparkle with mischievous excitement.

‘There’s something we never got to try.’

Her pulse quickens, blood humming loud and hot.

‘Lucifer, we can’t.’ She tries to sound firm around her suddenly heavy breaths and dry throat, but he doesn’t seem discouraged in the least.

He leans in, closer, his smirking lips brush against her ear. ‘Can’t we, now?’

And as if he hadn’t done enough already, he takes her earlobe between his teeth and bites it.

Chloe smothers a gasp.

‘We shouldn’t.’ She puts her hand on his chest and pushes her head against his, nudging him away from her neck so she can thinkfor a second. He reluctantly obeys and settles for placing his hands on her sides, dangerously high, thumbs almost stroking the underside of her breasts. She pushes his hands down to her waist. ‘We shouldn’t have sex in Evidence—shouldn’t have broken into the precinct in the first place. I mean, do you want us to get arrested?’

He only laughs at that, of course. ‘I’m God, darling. I won’t get arrested.’

Chloe rolls her eyes. He would probably charm his way out of it if they were caught, God or not—but that doesn’t make any of this okay. She’s about to tell him as much when he adds-

‘But if you wanted to cuff me and tell me what to do, resisting would be the last thing on my mind. In fact, I’m sure we can find some cuffs lying about-’

‘Lucifer, no.’

Her tone is sharper than she’d intended. He pulls back a little, studying her face. His eyes flicker to her parted lips, her flushed, heaving chest, and then back to her determined gaze. His brows furrow.

‘Do you really not want to do this?’ His voice is soft, serious.

They stare at each other, hot breaths mingling. He’s still pressed up against her, a six-foot-three wall of muscle and love, and his scent—spicy cologne and smoke—floods her head like ambrosia, a dizzying fog of him. Her skin burns beneath his palms, his touch sending embers through the expensive fabric and down, flames licking at her inner thighs. Her heartbeat thumps in her ears.

‘We don’t even work here anymore,’ she rasps, deflecting his question. It’s a weak excuse, but she is fraying at the edges.

A salacious smile forms on Lucifer’s face. ‘We’ll just pretend we do.’

He takes a step back, putting a more ‘professional’ distance between them, adjusts his lapels and attempts at a neutral expression. ‘You wanted to show me something in Evidence, Detective?’

And there’s that word again, want—because she still hasn’t answered his question and her consent means more to him than anything. She loves him for that, she really does, but right now, it’s not that simple. She wants, every cell in her body wants, wants him to shove her into that closet and take her apart. Has wanted it for so long, thought about it for years—at her desk, in the shower, while sitting next to him during interrogations. Thought about it in the self-same evidence closet, as she was pressed up against the wall by someone else. Imagined tugging at his hair, feeling him between her legs—even had to swallow his name. She still thinks about it, thought about it the other night, briefly, wistfully, while making a cup of tea. Thought about how much fun they could have had, sneaking off to secret corners of the precinct like two horny teenagers—if it hadn’t been for, well, mostly Michael, and all the chaos he’d released upon their lives.

In fact, it’s only fair they have at least one reckless, semi-public rendezvous. Just one. To make up for the honeymoon phase they never really had. With all the hurt and heartbreak they’ve had to go through, alone and together, they deserve to have one night of stupid fun.

On the other hand, and this is why it’s not that simple, it’s a bad idea. It’s a really bad idea. And also, pretty illegal. If she asked him to, if she said no now, he would take her home and push her up against the nearest surface, bury himself in her faster than any of them could get their clothes off, bring her to ecstasy-

But it’s not the same. It just isn’t.

With as much innocence she can muster, she looks up at his anticipatory face and puts her hand on the doorknob. The cold steel is a soothing balm against her burning skin.

‘I do want to show you something in Evidence.’

He lights up like it’s a declaration of love, all unrestrained enthusiasm.

‘After you, darling.’

Their lips crash against each other before the door is even closed. He pushes her backwards in the semi-darkness, between shelves and boxes, hands low on her hips. His fingers dig softly into her ass as they stumble towards a sliver of wall together, panting and laughing against each other’s mouths. He doesn’t break contact with her lips as he quickly sheds his jacket on the way and throws it over his shoulder, for the moment uncaring of dirt and creases. Then her back hits the wall with a thunk and she’s instantly struck by déjà vu, until Lucifer grabs her thigh inside the slit of her dress, and the unwelcome memory quickly evaporates in the heat of their clashing bodies as he wraps her bare leg around his waist and pins her to the wall with the hard press of his hips. Their unison groans fill the cramped space.

‘We shouldn’t be here,’ she murmurs breathlessly against his lips before opening her mouth to let his tongue back in. He tastes like wine and crème brûlée.

He hums in disagreement. ‘We should always be here, Detective.’ With the hand still on her ass, he pushes their bodies impossibly closer together and rocks against her. She moans, despite herself.

‘We- I-‘ Chloe stammers, leaning her head back as he kisses his way down her neck, her mind and body pulling in different directions. ‘This is- why am I letting you get away with this?’

She feels him smirk against her throat. His hand slowly glides up her inner thigh—her pulse quickening with every inch—until his thumb brushes past damp fabric.

‘Because you like me.’ His beard rasps against her hot skin in the crook of her neck, a contrast to his soft lips placing slow, open-mouthed kisses from her jaw to her collar. ‘Because you love me.’

Chloe scoffs.

‘Do I love you?’ she questions, her breathing erratic, her eyes turned to the ceiling as he sucks a mark onto her neck. With the hand that is still between her legs, he pushes her underwear to the side and rubs against her, nice and slow. ‘Yes.’ Her gasped answer has a proud, almost victorious chuckle rumbling from his chest.

‘But do I like you?’—she bites her lip and stifles another moan as his fingers press just right—‘That’s still up for debate.’

He breaks off the assault on her neck and looks up at her, eyes black with desire.

‘Allow me to try and tip the scales, then.’

She’s bereaved of his fingers as his hand moves to the edge of her underwear, pulling it down as he sinks to his knees. She almost stumbles when he slips it over her feet, but he grabs her leg, steadying her, and helps her out of her stilettos. Once she’s barefoot, his warm palms slide up the side of her legs, pushes the hem of her dress up a few inches, and then his mouth is on her.

He licks her, slowly, tenderly. She reaches down to pull at his hair, commanding him to give her more, to take more, and he does. He starts feasting on her, all tongue and lips and-

‘God, yes.’

He chuckles smugly into her core. ‘I do love it when you moan my name, darling.’ Eyes fixed on hers, he gives her a nice, long lick before he dives back in. He kisses her clit, sucks it, circles it, laps at her like he can’t get enough, and she’s reduced to a quivering, whimpering mess. She bucks against his face, needing more, and he does that thing that she likes, tongue flicking her clit, warm and wet, as he pushes a finger inside her.

Her eyes clench shut, her head falls back against the wall. She doesn’t bother holding back her groan this time.

Lucifer hums against her, low and greedy, taking as much as he can, before he pulls away with ragged breaths. ‘Ma déesse, que tu as bon gout.’

The meaning is forever lost on her, but his hungry tone, the way his tongue wraps smoothly around the French syllables, the words dripping like sin from his glistening lips, sends warm shivers down her spine.

He slows down his pace inside her, places kisses on her lower belly, seeks her ticklish spots and the ones that make her breath hitch, and then trails down to her hips, studying her sharp bone with his lips and his teeth, before moving down to her thigh, stubble prickling her tender skin. As if he’s got all the time in the world, he lets his mouth travel to the insides of her legs, already spread for him, and kisses a path up her inner thighs, getting closer and closer to where she aches with need,but never quite there. His finger, still moving slowly—too slowly—curls a bit, reaches that spot deep inside her that usually makes her see stars, but he pulls back before she’s even done gasping.

‘Lucifer,’ she breathes, a threat and a plea.

He places one last kiss to her sensitive thigh, nuzzles his nose against her heat, before his tongue finally finds her clit again and his finger starts pumping inside her, fast and hard. Then faster, harder, and, fuck, deeper.

‘Baby,’ she begs him to continue, fire spreading through her body, from her curling toes to her already heated cheeks.

He slows down for a second, and she reaches down to scratch at his scalp in frustration but quickly forgives him when he adds another finger and resumes his perfect pace, thrusting up in her to the beat of her racing heart.

‘Je veux te faire jouir.’ His thumb replaces his tongue as he looks up at her, eyes sparkling with lust and determination, but also patience. Like he could do this for hours, the whole night, as long as she falls apart around his tongue and fingers in the end.

He doesn’t need all night, though. She’s close, so close, can feel the beginning of that blissful high burning in her lower belly, between her thighs, where his mouth licks and nibbles and sucks. A building warmth pumping through her veins. She grabs at his hair, wraps her leg around his shoulder and pushes his face closer into her heat, needing that last-

‘Fuck, right there,’ she gasps. Right there right there right there.

He smirks against her, always eager to please, and does as she says. As she’s teetering on the edge, he curls both fingers inside her, goes impossibly deeper, and reaches the same spot as before, except this time, he doesn’t stop, and she comes with a shudder and a gasped ‘fuck!’ as he licks her through it.

‘Tu es tellement belle, ma chérie,’ he tells her, voice soft with awe as she comes down from her high and opens her eyes. She understands enough of the words to smile down at him, at his dishevelled hair, his swollen lips, and warm, chocolatey eyes.

‘You too, baby.’

She still hasn’t caught her breath when he, after wiping his mouth on her thigh, slowly rises from his feet and starts making his way up her body. His fingers skate lightly up her dress, his knuckles brushing against her rising and falling ribs as his hands sneak higher and higher, closer and closer. With a feather-light touch, he starts tracing the curves of her breasts, deliberately avoiding her aching nipples. He teases her with his fingers, kisses her neck, lips trailing, hot and slow, up to her jaw and the sensitive spot behind her earlobe.

‘J’ai envie de toi,’ he says into her ear, his voice rough with want and determination.

Chloe can’t take it anymore. She fists his waistcoast in one hand and grabs him by the hair with the other to pull him up into a hard kiss. He tries to stay in control, to hold back his obvious desire for just a little longer, but he quickly loses the battle and lets a bit of hunger take over. They pour equal heat into the kiss, tongues pressing and teeth clashing as their mouths slide against each other. She threads her fingers through his curls, he bites her lip, and they both groan and gasp into the kiss.

Chloe’s the one to pull away, needing air sooner than him. They’re looking into each other’s eyes, both panting, when he says it again, ‘J’ai envie de toi.’ This time, breathy desperation shines through his voice. ‘Je veux être en toi.’

And then they’re kissing again and both of them are working at his belt and pants in a flurry of hands until he’s finally inside her with one quick thrust. He fills her to the hilt, deliciously stretching her inner muscles, warm and hard. For a moment, they’re both so overcome they can only pause and breathe, Lucifer’s forehead cradled in the crook of her shoulder as her hand gently strokes the short hairs on the back of his neck.

He pulls back to look deeply into her eyes, and starts off slow. Not teasing, just tender. He kisses her cheeks and neck, every inch of skin he can reach with his lips, and whispers sweet nothings against her skin. She can’t know for sure, of course, because it’s still in French, and she doesn’t catch all of it, the sounds alien and muffled—‘t’es incroyable’, she hears, ‘j’suis fou amoureux de toi’—but something about his tone tells her it’s not as dirty as whatever he was saying before. Still, it makes her just as wet, the words tingling across her skin.

He picks up the pace, wraps her legs tighter around him, and pushes her harder against the wall. His hand grasps her breast roughly, seeking purchase, then rhythmically strokes over her nipple in apology, and she moans her relief. The shelves on either side of them hit the wall with a consistent thump, thump, thump as he thrusts up into her, fucks her, their harsh pants mingling in the small space between their parted lips. Chloe claws at Lucifer’s shoulders and back, hands scrambling for something to hold onto. Even through the two layers of fabric, she can feel his warmth and muscles, and a sudden urge bubbles up within her. With desperate fingers, she starts undoing the buttons on his shirt, but it takes too long—she needs him—so she rips open both shirt and waistcoat and frantically pushes them off his shoulders. He pins her against the wall with a hard thrust, letting go of her thigh and breast to shake the material onto the floor, and Chloe scratches at his finally bare back and shoulders, nails digging into slick, freckled flesh. She arches back into the wall and bares her neck for him to nip and kiss.

‘Fuck, Lucifer!’ she whines. ‘Oh, God, baby, fuckyes!’

He growls at the sound of her noises and bites her ear.

‘J’adore baiser avec toi.’ One hand slides down to her ass, holding her and pushing her dress higher up as the other bites into the now bare skin at her waist. The sharp touch sends a jolt down to her throbbing clit, making her clench tighter around him. ‘J’adore ton corps. T’es vraiment une déesse.’ The last word is a groan against her lips as he kisses her.

It’s wet, messy, and so delicious they both grasp tightly onto each other’s mouths with lips, tongues and teeth, neither of them wanting to ever let go.

‘Je veux t’embrasser,’ Lucifer pants when they break apart for a second, his gaze fixed on her mouth as their lungs fight for air. His dark eyes soften when they look into hers. ‘Chaque jour de ma vie,’ he adds reverently as he leans in. ‘Pour toujours.’ And then he kisses her again, like he wants it to last for all eternity.

His thrusts turn slower and deeper as they kiss, harder, until kissing becomes panting into each other’s mouths and Chloe’s head falls back in sheer pleasure. He tightens his grip on her ass and runs the hand on her waist up her side, brushing his thumb over her nipple as he passes her breast, up her neck, and cups the side of her face. She lets their eyes meet, and the way he’s looking at her, with absolute awe and gratitude, makes her heart flutter and her hips buck against his bare stomach. Her hands slide from where they’ve been clutching his mess of a hair to his back, trailing down to where he’s most sensitive. She places her palms on either side of his spine and presses lightly, carefully.

‘Tu me-’ he cuts off with a gasp when her nails skim over his hidden wings, ‘Tu me rends- fucking hell, Chloe.’

She keens at the guttural sound of her name. He leans his forehead against hers with a grunt, the slight change in angle making his rhythm falter, one hand slamming against the wall next to her. She watches the rest of his control slip through glazed eyes. She did this to him. She rendered God himself lost to his own bliss. That knowledge itself is nearly enough to push her over the edge.

‘Close,’ she breathes.

He grabs both her thighs with strong hands and presses her flush up against the wall, going impossibly deeper inside her. She hisses through her teeth and sputters all kinds of incoherent, unholy prayers into the sweltering air between them. Every hard thrust pushes her closer to ecstasy.

‘You make me so happy,’ Lucifer whispers, sounding so wrecked and raw her eyes clench shut. ‘I want- I hope- fuck- I hope I make you, nnf, just as happy.’

‘You do, baby. You make me so- so-’

Heat floods her veins as she comes, the sweet tension snapping all at once. She cries out, arches her back, and moans long and low as he continues to fuck her through it. His thrusts are quick and inelegant, his arms and thighs trembling, and she knows he’s close. She intentionally clenches around him, whispers his name, and then he too is tumbling over the edge, the only type of falling she ever wants him to feel again.

They smile at each other as they try to catch their breaths, sweaty foreheads still pressed together.

‘I love you,’ he says. ‘So much.’

She hums with happiness, her heart pleasantly aching at the sound of the words he couldn’t say the last time they were here.

‘I love you too, babe.’ She reaches up to lazily nuzzle the hairs at the nape of his neck, still smiling.

‘Maybe you even like me?’

She lets out a breathy chuckle and slides down the wall to land on her bare feet. Her legs are… wobbly, to say the least. Lucifer smirks at her.

‘We’ll see about that.’ She smoothes out her dress as he tucks himself back into his pants and fastens his belt. ‘If anyone ever finds out about this, your chances are pretty bad, buddy.’

She collects his clothes from the floor and helps him into his shirt. Two buttons are missing, lost to the force of her hasty ripping. It gives her an odd sense of satisfaction, the fact that the shirt he wore when they first kissed—the shirt she dreamt of tearing off his body—now is marked by their little escapade. (At least until he gets his tailor to fix it.)

‘Well, I’ll just have to keep trying to convince you then, won’t I?’ He licks his lips and lifts his eyebrows as he offers her a hand to help her up from the floor once she’s put her shoes back on. Chloe bites her cheek so as to not smile at his suggestion and intertwines their fingers.

‘You can start by helping me assemble that new shelf system tomorrow,’ she tells him, waiting for him to groan in response, or mumble something about hiring some people to do it for them. But he doesn’t. He just opens the door for her and lets her go first with a soft smile on his still flushed face.

‘Anything for you, my love.’

The door shuts with a gentle click behind them.

#writing #deckerstar fanfiction #deckerstar #chloe decker #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer on netflix #fluff #smut #established deckerstar #lucifer is god #post 5b #post s5 #two part drabble game

77 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 3 years

Note

Here's a quandary I've suddenly found myself in: where do you stand on writers deleting their own works, fanfiction or otherwise? I've had this happen to me on more than one occasion - I go to look for an old favorite and find it's since been deleted from whatever site I read it on.

On the one hand, I'm inclined to think that, "Sure. The author wrote it, it's their call. I don't own the work - I certainly didn't pay for it. It's their decision, even if it's disappointing."

But at the same time I can't help but consider the alternative - if I believe in death of the author (and I do), that an author's work fundamentally isn't solely theirs once it's been published, posted, etc., then it also seems wrong to have a work deleted. Stories aren't the sole property of their creator, after all.

But then I circle back. D'you think there are different obligations between authors and readers and the works being made in fandom space? I know if I had bought a book and the author decided they wanted it back, I would feel pretty comfortable telling them no, given I'd paid for it and whatnot. But that's a different world from fanfic and fandom space generally.

So. You're insightful Clyde, I'm curious as to what you'll have to say here (and to all y'all thinking about it, don't flame me. I haven't decided where I stand here yet - haven't heard a good nail-in-the-coffin argument for or against yet).

Val are you a mind reader now? I’ve been thinking about this exact conundrum the last few days!

(And yeah, as a general disclaimer: no flaming. Not allowed. Any asks of the sort will be deleted on sight and with great satisfaction.)

Honestly, I’m not sure there is a “nail-in-the-coffin argument” for this, just because—as you lay out—there are really good points for keeping works around and really good points for allowing authors to have control over their work, especially when fanworks have no payment/legal obligations attached. In mainstream entertainment, your stories reflect a collaborative effort (publisher, editor, cover artists, etc.) so even if it were possible to delete the physical books out of everyone’s home and library (and we're ignoring the censorship angle for the moment), that’s no longer solely the author’s call, even if they have done the lion’s share of the creative work. Though fanworks can also, obviously, be collaborative, they’re usually not collaborative in the same way (more “This fic idea came about from discord conversations, a couple tumblr posts, and that one headcanon on reddit”) and they certainly don’t have the same monetary, legal, and professional strings attached. I wrote this fic as a hobby in my free time. Don’t I have the right to delete it like I also have the right to tear apart the blankets I knit?

Well yes… but also no? I personally view fanworks as akin to gifts—the academic term for our communities is literally “gift economy”—so if we view it like that, suddenly that discomfort with getting rid of works is more pronounced. If I not only knit a blanket, but then gift it to a friend, it would indeed feel outside of my rights to randomly knock on their door one day and go, “I actually decided I hate that? Please give it back so I can tear it to shreds, thanks :)” That’s so rude! And any real friend would try to talk me out of it, explaining both why they love the blanket and, even if it’s not technically the best in terms of craftsmanship, it holds significant emotional value to them. Save it for that reason alone, at least. Fanworks carry that same meaning—“I don’t care if it’s full of typos, super cliché, and using some outdated, uncomfortable tropes. This story meant so much to me as a teenager and I’ll always love it”—but the difference in medium and relationships means it’s easier to ignore all that. I’m not going up to someone’s house and asking face-to-face to destroy something I gave them (which is awkward as hell. That alone deters us), I’m just pressing a button on my computer. I’m not asking this of a personal friend that is involved in my IRL experiences, I’m (mostly) doing this to online peers I know little, if anything, about. It’s easy to distance ourselves from both the impact of our creative work and the act of getting rid of it while online. On the flip-side though, it’s also easier to demean that work and forget that the author is a real person who put a lot of effort into this creation. If someone didn’t like my knitted blanket I gave them as a gift, they’re unlikely to tell me that. They recognize that it’s impolite and that the act of creating something for them is more important than the construction’s craftsmanship. For fanworks though, with everyone spread around the world and using made up identities, people have fewer filters, happily tearing authors to shreds in the comments, sending anon hate, and the like. The fact that we’re both prefacing this conversation with, “Please don’t flame” emphasizes that. So if I wrote a fic with some iffy tropes, “cringy” dialogue, numerous typos, whatever and enough people decided to drag me for it… I don’t know whether I’d resist the urge to just delete the fic, hopefully ending those interactions. There’s a reason why we’re constantly reminding others to express when they enjoy someone else’s work: the ratio of praise to criticism in fandom (or simply praise to seeming indifference because there was no public reaction at all), is horribly skewed.

So I personally can’t blame anyone for deleting. I’d like to hope that more people realize the importance of keeping fanworks around, that everything you put out there is loved by someone… but I’m well aware that the reality is far more complicated. It’s hard to keep that in mind. It’s hard to keep something around that you personally no longer like. Harder still to keep up a work you might be harassed over, that someone IRL discovered, that you’re disgusted with because you didn’t know better back then… there are lots of reasons why people delete and I ultimately can’t fault them for that. I think the reasons why people delete stem more from problems in fandom culture at large—trolling, legal issues, lack of positive feedback, cancel culture, etc.—than anything the author has or has not personally done, and since such work is meant to be a part of an enjoyable hobby… I can’t rightly tell anyone to shoulder those problems, problems they can’t solve themselves, just for the sake of mine or others’ enjoyment. The reason I’ve been thinking about this lately is because I was discussing Attack on Titan and how much I dislike the source material now, resulting in a very uncomfortable relationship with the fics I wrote a few years back. I’ve personally decided to keep them up and that’s largely because some have received fantastic feedback and I’m aware of how it will hurt those still in the fandom if I take them down. So if a positive experience is the cornerstone of me keeping fics up, I can only assume that negative experiences would likewise been the cornerstone of taking them down. And if getting rid of that fic helps your mental health, or solves a bullying problem, or just makes you happier… that, to me, is always more important than the fic itself.

But, of course, it’s still devastating for everyone who loses the work, which is why my compromise-y answer is to embrace options like AO3’s phenomenal orphaning policy. That’s a fantastic middle ground between saving fanworks and allowing authors to distances themselves from them. I’ve also gotten a lot more proactive about saving the works I want to have around in the future. Regardless of whether we agree with deleting works or not, the reality is we do live in a world where it happens, so best to take action on our own to save what we want to keep around. Though I respect an author’s right to delete, I also respect the reader’s right to maintain access to the work, once published, in whatever way they can. That's probably my real answer here: authors have their rights, but readers have their rights too, so if you decide to publish in the first place, be aware that these rights might, at some point, clash. I download all my favorite fics to Calibre and, when I’m earning more money (lol) I hope to print and bind many for my personal library. I’m also willing to re-share fic if others are looking for them, in order to celebrate the author’s work even if they no longer want anything to do with it. Not fanfiction in this case, but one of my fondest memories was being really into Phantom of the Opera as a kid and wanting, oh so desperately, to read Susan Kay’s Phantom. Problem was, it was out of print at the time, not available at my library, and this was before the age of popping online and finding a used copy. For all intents and purposes, based on my personal situation, this was a case of a book just disappearing from the world. So when an old fandom mom on the message boards I frequented offered to type her copy up chapter by chapter and share it with me, you can only imagine how overjoyed I was. Idk what her own situation was that something like scanning wouldn’t work, but the point is she spent months helping a fandom kid she barely knew simply because a story had resonated with her and she wanted to share it. That shit is powerful!

So if someone wants to delete—if that’s something they need right now—I believe that is, ultimately, their decision… but please try your hardest to remember that the art you put out into the world is having an impact and people will absolutely miss it when it’s gone. Often to the point of doing everything they can to put it back out into the world even if you decide to take it out. Hold onto that feeling. The love you have for your favorite fic, fanart, meta, whatever it is? Someone else has that for your work too. I guarantee it.

So take things down as needed, but for the love of everything keep copies for yourself. You may very well want to give it back to the world someday.

#fandom #fic things #mymetas #never any easy questions on this blog huh? lol

20 notes · View notes

bittybattybunny · 3 years

Note

I hope your not feeling down on your writing skills because I haven't caught up and commented on your latest releases. It's not you it's that I pick too many fanfics to follow and they all update a lot and I've been so busy and I've fallen behind on so many fics from various authors and sometimes my depression just makes me want to lie in bed all day doing nothing and it doesn't help I have to spend my limited spoons helping family everyday. I know these aren't good excuses, but I do sympathize with the lack of energy feeling at least. But your work really does bring a lot of joy to my life. It's so fun keeping up with your various AUs, and your latest one that features Kaya as Spider King has me really hyped because I want to learn more about Kaya, she's so fun! And Ruclipse is such a good comfort ship that just hits all the things I like seeing in a ship. You're so amazing and creative and it's awful that anyone would try to make you feel otherwise! Like your newest OC, Justin Tyme seems like such a lovable dumbass bastard. I love his wild, curly hair and his dapper outfit. I can't wait to see what dumb shit he gets himself into! I know this is really long and rambly, but I hope you know you have fans who genuinely love your work. I don't know if you're still thinking about that one comment you mentioned that got you really down, but honestly, fuck that guy. I don't know what they said but it must have been pure BS to have you doubting your hard earned art skills. I wish I could do more to prove you're awesome and that your fans really admire you, I just hope you don't stop sharing what you love because some rando was nasty for no good reason. Because we love what you do!

It's not like anyone one person nonny so please don't blame yourself. This has been an ongoing thing for a few months actually...

it's just a general thing over all lately like. I mentioned this in dm's with a friend but overall past few months I've had lower engagement overall with my works and it really does a number on my confidence. More so because like your latter point.

yes, I am still very much thinking about that one negative comment. Because that person also has the need to comment on other things and I even had a thing asking why I took a few weeks to update (when reality I posted to another ongoing fic and my TLC chapters are long chapters) and just the fact they could tear into a character (yes it was a comment on a character specifically and not even a main character it's a side character who has an important role for Snatcher's growth as a person down the line) then go saying "why didn't you update" when I posted a double update that week---

Like it lives in my head rent free and I want to literally cry because like the character is a focal in an upcoming chapter and I can't deal with another "why are they back" type thing. because "everyone finds them annoying"

And I'll be honest. it was Kaya. Like I've been trying to have fun with my BCU stuff with her as Spiderking because it's engaging for me and me and @/doodleimprovement even came up with a b-plot involving Kaya and Hattie trying to hook Nell and Marcus together and it's one of the best things as well as Kaya and Nell having a really good relationship.

but because of that one comment it makes me hesitant to do anything with Kaya despite she's one of my oldest ocs, my most thought out ocs and I adore her beyond anything. Like yes she's over powered and such and in TLC rn she comes off as a know it all, but upcoming chapters will show she's just a spacey kid who's trying to fit into a role others decided for her and isn't really as all mighty as she seems. Snatcher even ends up thinking of her as a little sister more than anything. Like fuck I'm even hesitant to share anything on her actual story despite how much work is in it. Like she's my favorite Oc (that's why shes my discord icon, and I'm pretty sure she's my twitter icon as well)

And like the points in the comment just. IDK they didn't fit to her, if anything the points are more suited to be shot at Eclipse.

Which is another thing I just get iffy on. I love RuClipse and everything with it. I love writing and drawing the dorks. But I'm now so afraid if Kaya could be attacked for only showing in a handful of chapters that don't even touch on who she is, when is someone going to finally tell me off on my wolf? who's going to tear into a character I pour a lot of personal shit into to try and comfort myself?

I use Ruclipse to deal with my own romantic heart, they are what I wish I could have so I love to write them, I hurt them but i like to make them happy in the end. Someone who can deal with your highs and lows. No ones perfect but you can still figure it out and love even the negative parts (I am a heavy romantic OTL)

he is in fact a lovable bastard. i have fun plans and he gives me an excuse for why Cel is so tired and having to be the brain cell and how she even wound up working with the time kids when she's so much older than they are. Currently I'm trying to think of how to use him and honestly I think he's gonna wind up hella comic relief fun guy who's just making a mess and do his own side story while Hat and Bow are busy in subcon----

thank you, I don't mind the rambly it kinda gave me a chance to get this off my chest... like I've typed this kinda response up time and time again and I always delete. I feel like I'm whining because I get upset but it's just, I spend so much time making things, I use all my spoons on either working or creating, I just want to know if it means anything but then negativity lives in my head because what's a functioning meat cube??? I try to stay positive but it's hard. Like another thing is Moon Guardian; the reason I haven't updated? because I have had someone bothering me about it. weekly I get asked about how I'm doing on it but it's not from a place of "want to read it" it's because I told them they couldn't post a certain thing until the chapter is done so it feels pressuring to constantly get asked because I feel the only reason they want to post is to boost their thing and I'm just the machine to boost it with my characters and comic.... like it feels they've taken the comic from me and it sucks because I have so many fun things planned. Like I accidentally went off on Nina about a thing with Alpine skyline and Eclipse as well as a thing with a Time Rift and a Jelly ghost.

Sorry kinda went off, just I've sat on this thought train since like early april. I've done my best to ignore it and just keep going but it's gotten really hard with the fact my health hasn't been really great. I've spent a lot of time lately bed bound because I just hurt so badly. if I'm not resting, I'm at my day job which is incredibly stressful rn as I only really work mornings and I see things that are being missed so then i report it and it still gets missed and i can't get it fixed after a point cuz we're back to full service and need the people so I can't nitpick but just.... I'm bitter okay like if I left this shit when I worked I would have gotten yelled at but now we just let it slide??? and this stresses me out which then causes my body to freak out because I'm stressed which puts me in more pain. and then like at work have people acting shocked I have my cane or soemthing and just skfdslkfksdf

so my energy is so tanked. and then the negative comment in my head, no idea if people like things cuz I have no idea if I hear nothing, just has had me doubting why post. Like I should go back to just not posting my stories and sketches or w/e and slink back to my hole like I was before.

idk Its just. a bad night in the house of bun. I've had these thoughts festering and I guess today was the dam breaking. It's probs cuz I'm nervous posting Chimeras because it's a very dark au.

#ask #anon #not art #long post #sorry im just in a bad spot tonight I guess #like i started my day pretty okay but somewhere along the way it nose dived and I'm just trying to not cry in my room

11 notes · View notes

heytherejulietx · 4 years

Text

Haunted ~ Jughead Jones

Masterlists

Requests are OPEN

Notes - Hi so I’m seriously proud of this fic, and even though I feel like all of my Riverdale fics flop I’m super happy with this, so if you could reblog this and get it more reach that’s be amazing. (Also, on a note not related to this, I am working on the requests and I’m so sorry about the wait for them, but I was having trouble writing them so that’s why I wrote this fic. Sorry everyone they’re coming soon!)

Warnings - Pure angst and hurt. Be warned.

Word count - 5.6k.

Riverdale tag list - @idont-knowrn

If you’d like to be added to any tag list please just tell me!

You and I walk a fragile line

I have known it all this time

But I never thought I'd live to see it break

Everything changed when Jughead moved to the South Side. Of course, she couldn't blame him for moving, she knew he had to. With his dad behind bars for a murder he didn't even commit and not being able to stay at the Andrews household any longer, he didn't have a choice in moving. Living in his dad's trailer was better than staying with a foster family whom he didn't know, though living on opposite sides of town and now attending different schools meant they saw less and less of each other. And to be completely honest, Y/N missed him so much. She missed having him stay over at her house before school since her house wasn't far from Archie's. She missed waking up with him in the mornings, being greeted with lazy kisses and warm hugs. She missed sitting with him in class, helping him in math and getting his help in English literature. She missed after school dates at Pop's; sharing each other's milkshakes and helping him write his novel.

But once he'd moved, the cracks in their relationship started to appear. At first it was just missed phone calls and being left on read, though soon it developed to frequent arguments, being stood up on dates for the Serpents, and just not seeing each other much anymore. It hurt her, because she missed her once perfect boyfriend, who was now so caught up with his new school and his imprisoned father's gang to give any sort of time or attention to her. Maybe it was selfish, but Y/N wanted him to focus on her, and not anybody else, even if just for one night. She could tell that their relationship was headed downhill, though she thought that it would be fixable. They had been through so much already, surely this wouldn't break them apart, right?

It's getting dark and it's all too quiet

And I can't trust anything now

And it's comin' over you like it's all a big mistake

Y/N frowned down at the Pop's menu sat on the table in front of her, scowling at the small printed words there. This was the third time he'd missed one of their dates, or just forgotten about it all together. She was guessing it was the latter, as Jughead had been too wrapped up in the Serpents and with Toni Topaz to think of anything else. She was certain that he was getting bored of her, or tired of her company. He was hanging around with a gang now, his people, so surely his plain old north-side girlfriend was getting tiresome? She took a glance out of the window beside her seat, seeing that the sky was darkening into evening - dark oranges and blues swirled together as the sun went down like an artist mixing paint on a canvas. When she'd gotten to Pop's it was still daylight, but he had taken so long to show that now it was getting dark.

Before she knew it, disappointed tears were brimming in her eyes, and a lump was forming in her throat. Why couldn't he just spare a few hours to go and see her? At first, she had given him the time he quite clearly needed, and the benefit of the doubt. He had just moved and he was adjusting, and she got that, but now it had been weeks and there was still no effort put in from his end. It wasn't like he was even a proper member of the Serpents, so she just didn't get it.

After another few minutes she had paid for the one milkshake she had drank and the one that had been left sitting on the table untouched, that was meant for Jughead, and then left the diner. It was cold outside, the kind of cold that seeped through your clothes and gave you goosebumps. Though she already felt the cold disappointment that had been sticking with her for weeks, now. On the colder days before Jughead had moved, he would give her his denim jacket as they walked to Pop's after school, but just the thought of that now made her want to start crying. She couldn't remember the last time she had been wrapped in his jacket, or even his arms for that matter.

Before she knew what she was doing, Y/N had pulled her phone out and called him, anger washing over her and replacing the sadness she felt. He picked up after six rings. Usually it would only take one.

"Y/N?" He asked, no 'love' or 'baby'. "Can I call you back later? I'm with the Serpents."

"Couldn't you have spared one night from the Serpents to show up to our date?" She scoffed, lifting her free hand to wipe her eyes which were now streaming with tears.

"What?" Jughead asked, sounding confused. "We didn't have a date today."

"Yes we did." Y/N sniffled, her lip quivering when realising he'd forgotten. "This is the third one you've missed for Christ's sake, Jug. I shouldn't trust anything you even say, anymore."

"I'm sorry I've been busy." He huffed, sounding more irritated than anything.

"Yeah, you're always busy now." She swallowed back the lump forming in her throat. "Too busy to come and see your girlfriend anymore."

"Y/N, come on-"

Before he could say anymore she cut the call off, not ready to hear it. Once her phone was back in her pocket she covered her mouth with her hands as she started crying, her chest heaving with each choked sob that passed her lips. Soon it hurt, though nothing hurt as bad as the sadness consuming her from realising he didn't love her like he used to.

Holding my breath, won't lose you again

Something's made your eyes go cold

It was almost midnight when Y/N heard the rumble of a motorbike turning into her street corner, before she heard the noise cut off right outside her house. It wasn't unusual for Jughead to come and see her after a fight, though it was unusual for them to fight so often. The most they had ever argued before the move was when his father had first been arrested, but she understood that he was just so stressed with everything that he was lashing out at people. Though this was different.

Y/N hadn't moved from her bed since she had gotten home. She hadn't even changed out of her clothes, she had just gotten into her bed and cried. She was still crying by the time she heard her window being pushed open further and someone stepping into her room. Y/N had the covers over her head so she couldn't see him approaching, though she felt the bed dip when he sat down beside her, and felt his hand rubbing her back through the covers. She sat up just enough to turn and move her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest as she started crying again, holding onto him tightly.

"I'm sorry." She heard him whisper into her hair as he wrapped his arms around her shaking body, which only made her cry harder. Did he really mean that? She couldn't be sure.

"Do- do you still love me?" Y/N couldn't help but ask through the tears, needing to know. It felt like he didn't, or that he was loving her less and less every day.

"Of course I still love you." Jughead sighed, his hand lifting to gently run his fingers through her hair. "I'm sorry I've been so distant lately, I've been busy sorting out stuff at South Side High and with the Serpents. I really didn't mean to forget about meeting up with you, okay?"

Y/N sniffled a little as she nodded, just holding onto him a little tighter. Whether she completely forgave him or not was a different question, though she was willing to give him another chance to prove that he really did mean what he said.

"Hey." He said softly, moving his hand underneath her chin to tilt her head upwards. Her red-rimmed eyes locked with his and she watched his expression soften somewhat when he took in her features, though there was something about his eyes that made her stomach swirl with uneasiness. They were just so cold and unlike him. Maybe he didn't really mean what he had said.

Come on, come on don't leave me like this

I thought I had you figured out

Something's gone terribly wrong, you're all I wanted

Come on, come on don't leave me like this

I thought I had you figured out

Can't breathe whenever you're gone

Can't turn back, now I'm haunted

After that night, Jughead had promised to make it up to her and come and see her the following weekend at Pop's. And to be honest, she really needed it. Her week had gone absolutely horribly, with Betty suddenly becoming cold and distant towards her. Y/N couldn't fathom why Betty had become so cruel to her; she just knew that the last time herself and the Cooper girl had spoken, it had ended in a long string of insults from Betty then her walking off. So she could really do with her boyfriend's comfort, after her best friend clearly didn't want to be around her anymore.

Y/N sipped on her milkshake at Pop's as she waited for Jughead to show up, his drink sat untouched opposite her on the other side of the table. Once she had hit the ten minute mark she began to grow worried that he wasn't going to show, but thankfully she spotted him pulling into the parking lot of Pop's after she had heard the rumble of his motorcycle outside. A smile was painted over her lips as she waited for him to walk inside, though it quickly faded once she had caught sight of him.

His face was full of cuts and bruises, most of them looking extremely painful. At first she had been worried that he had been in a fight with somebody at his school, though her stomach sank when seeing the leather jacket he was wearing. The leather Serpents jacket.

He had clearly caught sight of her expression, as Jughead sighed as he slipped into the seat opposite her own. "Y/N, I meant to tell you-"

"That you'd joined the gang you told me you wouldn't?" She whispered, her eyebrows furrowed with disbelief. "Why would you do that? They're dangerous, Jug, they're a biker gang. Are you kidding me?"

"They aren't dangerous." He frowned. "They're like family."

"They're like family?" She scoffed. "Oh, and I'm not anymore?"

"Hey, I didn't say that." Jughead frowned a little more.

"Maybe you didn't say it, but you've been meaning it for weeks!" She practically exploded, sitting up in her seat as her waterline burned with the build up of tears again. "When was the last time we both properly hung out together, hm? Or ate dinner together? Or even spoke to each other without arguing?"

"I told you I've been busy, with-"

"With the Serpents, yeah I know." Y/N scoffed. "You never have time for me anymore, and that's all I'm asking for. I miss you, Jug. You could have at least told me that the reason you were too busy to spare a few hours for me is because you were joining a fucking gang."

"What is your issue with the Serpents?" He snapped defensively, making her flinch at the harshness of his voice.

"You said you wouldn't join them, you promised me, remember that?" She asked. "Oh, but maybe you don't, since you seem to be forgetting a lot recently." She huffed, lifting a hand to wipe away the tears that had started falling. "They are dangerous, Jughead, have you even looked in the mirror recently? If you had to do that to join then what else might you have to do now that you're involved?"

"Will you give it a rest?" Jughead snapped, causing her to flinch once more. "Like it or not, I'm a Serpent now, okay? And I'm sorry that since I have this thing called responsibilities now that I can't spend every minute of the day with you."

"I didn't say that, Jug." She whispered, more tears falling. "I just miss you, we never see each other anymore and when we do it's... it's like you're a different person."

"Yeah? Well if I'm so different then why don't you just find yourself a new boyfriend, then. One that fits the criteria." Jughead scowled as he got out of his seat, shaking his head as he looked at her.

"Hey, wait." Y/N whispered, also getting out of her seat. "Don't go, Jug, I'm sorry." She whispered, reaching out to touch his arm.

Jughead was still frowning as he pulled away from her touch immediately, shaking his head as he just turned away and walked out of the diner, leaving her stood crying as she watched him leave.

Stood there and watched you walk away

From everything we had

But I still mean every word I said to you

Despite everything Jughead had said, they didn't break up. A few days later Jughead had stopped by her house to apologise, and for once it looked like he meant it. He had been close to tears himself as he ranted to her about everything, but mostly about how sorry he was and how he couldn't stand to lose her. By the end of the conversation she was crying too, and she had agreed to give him another chance. Maybe by this point she should have noticed just how many chances she had given him recently, and saved herself from any future hurt by breaking up with him, though she couldn't do it. She physically couldn't be without him, it pained her to even think about it.

Everything was good for a while. Betty had given her an explanation as to why she had been acting so funny, and definitely one she hadn't been expecting at that - as she had been getting phone calls from the Black Hood - the infamous serial killer who had taken up occupation in Riverdale over the past however many weeks. Whilst it was a complete and utter shock, she had immediately forgiven Betty, as she understood that she had become distant from Y/N so that the Black Hood wouldn't kill her. And things with Jughead had gotten better. Whilst he was still different to the soft and loving boy she had known before the move, he was clearly making an effort, and that mattered a lot to her.

Jughead had been especially better once his father was out of jail. It was a huge relief for everybody to have FP out, and whilst his return meant Jughead having to step up as Serpent King, Y/N was making an effort to try and understand the Serpents more, so she had been helping Jughead plan FP's retirement party in the Whyte Worm.

Though she had also been meeting up with Toni Topaz there, who was helping her learn the Serpent dance for her own initiation.

Whilst she still wasn't too fond of the Serpents, she wanted to be there for Jughead to make sure he didn't end up getting hurt or imprisoned like his father, so she had agreed to do the extremely sexist 'Serpent dance' and partially join the gang to keep an eye on her boyfriend.

Even though she wanted to keep him safe, on the night of the party she felt horrible. On her way to the bar she felt nauseated at even just the thought of stripping into lingerie and dancing in front of a whole bar of gang members, but once she was there she felt even worse. The smell of alcohol once she had walked into the building was sickening, and it only made her worse. She was almost convinced enough to leave altogether, though once she saw her boyfriend approaching she knew there was no way of getting out of it now.

"Hey." He smiled once he had reached her, planting his hands at her waist as he leaned down to give her a kiss - thankfully the action helped calm her a little. "You look amazing."

The compliment made her blush a little, as she was only wearing a peach skirt and white blouse, though she couldn't help but wonder what he would be thinking later once she had revealed what she was dressed in underneath the good-girl outfit.

Soon the party was in full swing, and somehow she had managed to lose Jughead in the crowd, though she had managed to find Toni sat at the bar instead. Whilst she wasn't extremely fond of the Topaz girl, she was grateful that she had wanted to help her out with the dance.

"Hey north-sider." Toni greeted once she had sat at the bar, stood on the other side of it. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I'm about to throw up or pass out." Y/N told her, scanning the room for a moment before looking back at the pink-haired girl. "Give me something." She tapped the bar, hoping a drink would help. She didn't even drink - but Y/N was hoping that some alcohol would help calm her nerves.

"Are you sure?" Toni asked as she started pouring a liquor into a shot glass for her. "You don't exactly look like you can hold your drink."

"Please, I need some confidence right now, and if that means drinking to get some then so be it." She sighed.

"Alright then." Toni placed the glass on the bar in front of her, looking a little concerned.

Y/N lifted the glass and eyed the liquid for a moment before lifting it to her lips and knocking back the whole drink in one. It burned it's way down her throat and made her start to cough at the horrible feeling, though despite that she put the glass back on the bar and tapped it, signalling that she wanted another.

"Another?" Toni asked. "Are you sure? Maybe that's not the best idea."

"Please, Toni. I won't be able to do this completely sober." She sighed.

Toni just nodded and started to pour her another one, though as she did Y/N's attention was soon locked on the stage a little away from the bar, seeing Veronica and Archie stood there with the Karaoke machine that Y/N had managed to hire for the party earlier in the week. Tearing her gaze away she took the second shot pretty quickly. It still burned horribly on the way down, though she didn't start coughing again. By the time she had taken her third shot, Veronica and Archie had ran off of the stage mid-song, and Y/N had left the bar to quickly move onto the stage, once Toni had said that it was now or never.

Once she was up on the stage she had managed to meet Jughead's confused eyes in the sea of people, and somehow she didn't tear her gaze as she started singing the rest of the song as she unbuttoned her blouse. Y/N tried her best to look seductive and confident as she stripped herself of her clothes and started dancing, and the alcohol did help a lot with that. She was able to focus solely on the dancing as she moved over to the pole on the middle of the stage and spun around it twice, before lowering herself down onto the floor in front of it. The mass amount of people watching her didn't even phase her as she had moved back to the microphone to sing the last few notes of the song, though once she met Jughead's eyes again she felt her stomach sink with nausea. He had that same cold look in his eye again, the one that looked like he had lost all of his love for her.

After the dance was over Y/N had left with her clothes to change in the bathroom of the Wyrm, missing the speech that FP had started as afterwards she went to stand outside by Jughead's motorbike to cool off. It wasn't long before she spotted Jughead walking out of the back entrance of the bar to come and join her, his expression one she couldn't even read. She could just see that he was not happy, not at all.

"Hey," She said softly as he approached, though was met with no reply once he was stood in front of her. "What's wrong? Was it the dance?"

"It's everything." His voice broke as he shook his head. "And yeah. Why would you do that?"

"I wanted to be a part of this." She told him. "The Serpents, your world."

"Why?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he frowned at her. The expression made her uneasy, as it was one she was all too familiar with recently. "Archie knew to cut bait. Now I'm dragging you down. I'm dragging my dad down."

"He's still figuring it out." She told him softly, trying to muster up a genuine sympathetic smile. "And it's gonna be okay, we'll figure out whatever we have to do together." Y/N reached out to place her hands on his chest, though frowned when he had immediately stepped backwards.

"No, Y/N. Mm-Mm." He shook his head. "Not together."

The words struck her like he had just slapped her around the face. Her head tilted a little as a sudden coldness rushed over her body, nausea swirling around her stomach once again. Was he really about to break up with her?

"Y/N, if you stay, I don't know if I can protect you anymore. You might get-" Jughead paused as he ran a hand over his mouth, before planting both of them on her shoulders. "You probably will get hurt. I can't let that happen to you."

Y/N felt her waterline burning with a build up of tears as she stared back at him, starting to shake her head. "That's not your decision to make." She practically whispered.

"Actually, yeah it is." He stepped backwards as he spoke, the painful cold gaze returning to his eyes.

"How many times, Jug?" Y/N asked as the tears started falling down her cheeks, her voice becoming wobbly with emotion. "How many times are we going to push each other away?" She gave a light push to his chest as she spoke, taking in a light breath as she tried to stop the tears.

"Until it sticks." The harshness in his voice just made more tears fall as her expression crumpled. "This was my dad's one chance at going straight, and I wrecked it. I'm not going to destroy you, too." He moved to turn and walk away, though Y/N started following instead.

"Just tell me what happened, Jug." Her voice broke as she moved to grab his jacket and turn him around, tears cascading down her face faster as she reached up to cup his face in her hands. "Tell me."

"Please," His voice was weak, and she could see that he was holding back tears, too. "Go home."

Jughead stared at her for another moment before pulling away from her hold, and turning away to walk back into the bar. Y/N couldn't stop the oncoming wave of sobs as she watched him walk away and head back into the bar, her heart aching as she covered her face with her hands. She felt like somebody had just ripped out her chest. He wasn't her's anymore, and she wasn't his.

He will try to take away my pain

And he just might make me smile

But the whole time I'm wishin' he was you instead

The next day, Y/N had found out on the same night that Veronica had broken up with Archie too. She had been at Pop's trying to fight back a fresh wave of tears, when Archie had taken a seat beside her and started up a conversation with her. She eventually just broke into a fresh wave of tears as she tried explaining to Archie what had happened, and he had moved his arms around her to hug her, trying to comfort her in the best way he could. Though it felt wrong - his arms felt different to Jughead's, they were more muscular and harder. That fact alone just made her cry harder as she held onto Archie, as she wished it was Jughead sat with her instead. But she couldn't seem to let go of Archie - needing the reassuring contact even if it wasn't from the right person. So she just held onto him tightly as she cried, silently wishing it was Jughead instead.

Oh, oh, holding my breath, won't see you again

Something keeps me holding on to nothing

Y/N returned to Pop's the day after, hoping to catch Archie there again. Though as she had walked though the doors of the diner, instead of seeing her red-haired friend, she saw Toni sat at the table beside her usual one instead. She frowned as she looked at her, knowing she probably knew about what her gone down between herself and Jughead at FP’s retirement party. She had tried to walk part Toni without being noticed, though just sighed when she heard her call her name.

“Y/N?” She asked, causing the girl to force a smile as she turned to face her. “Listen, I’m sorry about what happened between you and Jug at the party.”

“It’s fine.” Y/N shook her head. It wasn’t fine, far from it, but she wasn’t about to stand and talk to Toni Topaz about her feelings, of all people. “It’s probably been a long-time coming.” She sighed.

“Listen, I-“

“Y/N?” Another voice came from behind her, an all too familiar voice, causing Y/N to frown as she turned around and saw Jughead stood there. She hadn’t seen him since the night he’d broken up with her, and hadn’t planned on seeing him for a long while, knowing she wouldn’t be able to handle it. Though instead of tears of sadness filling her eyes like she thought would happen, angry tears filled them together as she put two and two together. She glanced between him and Toni, and just shook her head as the tears started falling. He was meeting up with her, not even three days after they had broken up.

“Nice.” She whispered. “Rub salt in the wound, why don’t you?”

“What?” Jughead asked, before his eyes widened as he looked at Toni before back at her. “Y/N-“

“I don’t want to hear it, Jughead.” Y/N shook her head as the tears fell faster, quickly stepping past him and towards the exit of the diner to head outside. Her vision quickly became blurred with tears as she walked, breathing becoming a difficult task as she pushed back any verbal cries trying to escape.

“Y/N wait!” Jughead called after her. “It’s not what you think, please.”

Y/N turned around to face him as she started full-on crying, despite trying not to. “No, Jughead, I don’t care!” She shouted through her tears, her whole body starting to shake. “Just leave me alone, okay? I can’t be around you right now.”

Whilst Jughead stumbled over his words trying to say something, Y/N just turned around and walked away as she started sobbing freely.

Come on, come on don't leave me like this

I thought I had you figured out

Something's gone terribly wrong, you're all I wanted

Come on, come on don't leave me like this

I thought I had you figured out

Can't breathe whenever you're gone

Can't turn back, now I'm haunted

By the time Y/N had gotten home, she was a mess. Her chest hurt with each rough cry that passed her lips but she couldn’t stop. Weeks of emotional torture she’d endured, watching Jughead fall out of love with her, and just as things had started to seem okay he’d broken up with her. He had said it was to protect her, because he couldn’t let her get hurt, but was that really the reason? Or was he really just not in love with her? And wanted to be with Toni instead?

Once she had managed to get to her room she just slammed the door and fell to her floor, her hands covering her face as she hunched over. Everywhere hurt; her chest, her throat, her eyes, her heart. She felt like screaming, screaming for hours until her throat was raw and she couldn’t make anymore noise. Though she couldn’t physically stop the sobs long enough to even try to scream.

Her hands were shaking once she’d moved them from her face to plant them on her bedroom floor to stable herself, the shakes travelling up her arms and through her body until her entire frame was quivering with the agonising pain she felt. The tears couldn’t seem to stop, either. It felt like she had been crying ever since the break up, and for the most part she had.

“You’re not gone.“ She sobbed, hitting the floor with her palms before hunching over again as she continued crying. “You can’t be gone!“ The words mixed in with her crying to the point where she sounded like a wounded animal, begging for death. And in a way, she felt like it. Y/N didn’t think she could survive without Jughead by her side.

You and I walk a fragile line

I have known it all this time

Never ever thought I'd see it break

Never thought I'd see it

Another week passed before she saw Jughead again. The first time she had seen him after the break up it had been an accident, though this time he had asked to meet up with her, and for some reason said yes. Y/N tried telling herself that she had agreed to go simply because she was curious about what he had to say, though the real reason was because she was hoping he wanted to meet up with her to get back together.

For once, Jughead was there before her, though the scene looked so odd. For a start, he wasn’t even wearing his signature beanie - just the Serpent jacket that looked so foreign to her. And there was nothing on the table. Usually when they met up, whoever got there first would get each other’s favourite milkshakes. Though the only thing there was an untouched Pop’s menu.

“Hey.” Jughead said softly once she had sat in the seat opposite him, not beside him as usual. “I’m glad you came. I wouldn’t have put it past you if you didn’t.”

“What did you want to talk about?” She asked, just wanting to get it over and done with. Whilst she wasn’t crying herself to sleep every night anymore or tearing up at the mention of his name, she still didn’t trust herself to be with him for too long, in fear of setting off her uncontrollable flow of emotions.

“I just...” Jughead sighed. “I wanted to say I was sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have been so harsh with you about it. I probably could have done it all in a nicer way to make it easier for the both of us. And, I just wanted to say that I wasn’t meeting up with Toni last week in the way that you thought. Really, Y/N, she just wanted to make sure I was okay.”

Y/N scoffed quietly as she shook her head, a sad smile making it’s way to her face. “And I was thinking you wanted to get back together.” She whispered, though he heard her.

Seeing his eyebrows furrow and the shake of his head was enough to make her eyes brim with tears again as a lump formed in her throat.

“Y/N, I can’t do that.” He whispered, reaching across the table to take her hands in his. “You’re in too much danger with me, I can’t let anything happen to you.”

“I can handle it, Jug.” She tried telling him, though her throat was clogged up with tears and it made talking an extremely difficult task. “I can handle it, please can we just try.” Tears starter falling as her voice broke, her hands tearing from his as they flew to cover her face. After a moment she felt the seat dip beside her as he sat down, his arms winding around her and pulling her into him as she started crying.

“Please don’t leave me.” She started crying, the sound of her heart breaking almost louder than her cries. Almost. “Please, Jug, this can’t be over, I never thought I’d see this break, please.”

Jughead was stiff as he rubbed her arm gently, letting his lips linger on her forehead as a way of trying to comfort her. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, his own voice thick. “I have to. Y/N.”

At that she just started crying harder as she held onto him, trying to soak up his hold, his touch, everything, as she knew once he left she wouldn’t ever get it again. She turned to be completely pressed into him as she sobbed into the cold uncomfortable leather of his jacket, trying to hold onto him for as long as possible. Though she knew everything was over, and she couldn’t even take the thought. She couldn’t stand to live without Jughead in her life, she just didn’t want to.

She was haunted.

#riverdale #Riverdale imagine #Riverdale one shot #Riverdale oneshot #Riverdale angst #Riverdale fic #Jughead Jones #Jughead #Jughead imagine #Jughead one shot #Jughead oneshot #Jughead angst #Jughead fic #jughead x y/n #jughead x you #jughead x reader #south side Serpents #south side serpents imagine

145 notes · View notes

moon-in-daylight · 4 years

Note

heyy! love your fics! i've seen you take requests so i'm testing my luck here. can we please get a dhawan!master x reader fic where reader is forced to pilot the tardis (like reason w her or link with her telepathically idk) to get the master to a hospital as he's passed out and kinda dying? like some angsty action that turns out fine in the end, please? thank you

Dispensable / Dhawan!Master x reader

Summary: You’ve always felt safe by The Master’s side, but when he endangers himself to save your life, you start wondering if his efforts to protect you are really worth it. Especially now that his life depends on you learning how to pilot a TARDIS.

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: Blood, weapons, injuries, insecure!reader, a little angst maybe.

A/N: Anon, I’m sorry this took me so long. I’ve just been out of inspiration lately and this is what came out after a month of writing. I hope you still like it though 💖

It wasn’t unusual for The Master’s plans to go terribly wrong sometimes, as it wasn’t unusual that you regularly got hurt in the middle of your adventures as a consequence.

Luckily, it was nothing too serious most of the times. Maybe you would get some scratches while running on the quiet days, some scars on the most serious days when you had to face some extremely angry alien civilization… And, in the worst scenarios, you had almost encountered your reaper face to face.

It was inevitable to suffer some unfortunate accidents while travelling inside the TARDIS. You knew that from the very start, that your least developed anatomy would barely be able to follow a Time Lord’s way of living, especially one’s with so much love for chaos and destruction. You were well aware that while you travelled with The Master death would always be keeping an eye on you. Yet, you gladly took the risks that staying in his ship entailed.

From the first moment you had stepped a foot inside that console room, you had known there would never be a way of turning back to your old life. Not after seeing the things, places and eras he could show you with the simple pull of a lever. At first, the main reason you stayed with him was the time travelling.

Though it was extremely dangerous and you feared The Master could abandon anytime and anywhere when he got bored of you, you decided to endure his rage filled words about your species and his several rules on how you should behave to try and get him to show you the stars. He wasn’t an easy person to deal with, but you had grown to both love and deal with him, and you liked to think he had done the same with you too.

After more than a year aboard of his ship, you trusted him almost blindly, confident that he would do anything he could possibly do to try and get you uninjured of the deadly situations you faced daily.

He was way more gentle and caring now than he was when you first met him, though that was something he would never admit out loud to you. But his change of behavior was evident. You noticed it by the little thing. By the way he always kept an eye on you when you were outside of the TARDIS, on how he threatened anyone that seemed barely interested in hurting you… He almost seemed a different person now. He even took care of your wounds when he couldn’t prevent you from getting hurt, and making sure you got the fastest recovery possible instead of leaving you to deal with them on your own.

You supposed he had gotten used to having a ‘human pet’, and that he took the trouble of taking care of you mainly because he didn’t want to have to take another human in his TARDIS to replace you if you were ever missing. Too much inconvenience to have to take another pet now that he had finally grown somewhat comfortable with your presence… Either way, and despite the many risks you faced time and time again, you always felt save by his side knowing that he wouldn’t let you die that easily.

While being by his side, you barely could remember what fear felt like.

That was, of course, until you found yourself in the worst situation you could have pictured.

The day had started as any other, with The Master taking you to New Earth in the middle of the First New World War, following your request of wanting to know more about the future of your species. The Master had told you repeatedly that humanity’s history was not worth seeing, that they were little more than amoebas. But your curious self had insisted him so many times about wanting to see your future that he had eventually given in.

You didn’t exactly liked what you saw there. The cruelty, the hatred that your own race processed against their own… The senseless death and unnecessary barbarism between those of their own blood… The Master had warned you that it wouldn’t be pretty, but considering the fact you were already used to face every possible form of chaos by his side, you had been sure that nothing he could show you could be worse than the damage you had already seen him cause to distant planets and civilizations.

Now that you ran for your life in the middle of an open battlefield, hand in hand with The Master as he tried to guide you to the safety of his TARDIS under a never-ending rain of bullets, you realized your mistake. You had never imagined a war could be so bloodthirsty, so atrocious… The Master hadn’t said it, but you were sure he was jealous of the destruction and despair caused by your species.

The two sides of the conflict were ready to do anything to get even the slightest advantage over their enemies, and of course, The Master had decided he should turn such horrible situation in his favor. He had manipulated both, the leader of the resistance and the supreme general of the new Earth’s forces, to make them believe the other would throw an offensive in the middle of the night. That way, while everyone fought to death in the middle of the battlefield, you and him could sneak into each side’s bases and steal whatever could be useful or valuable.

The Master’s plan was executing itself perfectly, to the point where it was all being too good to be true. Everyone had seemed to believe him and, though you were suspicious that things were never that easy with him, he appealed to your specie’s stupidity to justify the fact that no major complications had met your little scam. If everything went as he had planned, you would be in and out of each fortress in barely ten minutes, with your pockets full and the armory of the TARDIS completely renewed with new nuclear weapons. But just when the both of you were emptying the armory of the rebel band, two guards caught you red-handed.

Apparently, before indulging their soldiers into a bloodshed battle that would likely finish all live on the planet, the leaders of each side had decided to make things the diplomatic way. And for the first time in a very long time, they had decided to unite forces against a common enemy, you and The Master. You would’ve been proud of them, had your life not been in such danger.

Now, getting yours and The Master’s head was top priority to every living being in that planet, and you almost doubted you would be able to make it to his ship alive.

You had ran alongside The Master from angry crowds hundreds, maybe thousands of times now, but never before had you felt so trapped. The TARDIS was somewhere nearby, and every step you took closer to her was a sigh of relief that left your already tired lungs. Bullets and all kinds of projectile weapons were thrown in your direction, and The Master had to keep you even closer than usual to his body to prevent you from getting hurt.

When the disguised aspect of the TARDIS finally met your eye, you thought you had never felt happier in your life, but your legs were beginning to get tired and you felt yourself losing all the strength in your body, struggling to stabilize the rhythm of your breathing.

One last push, you repeated yourself internally as you forced your body to not give up, to resist until you could collapse on the safety of the TARDIS’ ground.

With every passing second, you could see your destination getting closer, but that little time felt eternal as you did your best not to lose focus and sprint those last meters for the sake of your life.

You only let go of The Master’s hand so you could extend your arms to push the TARDIS’ doors open, get inside and quickly close them after you. But the only thing your hands laid on was the ground as you tripped and fell only a few steps away from the ship.

Your heart sunk in your chest as your bad luck struck in, realizing that you didn’t have enough time to stand up from the ground before the hordes of soldiers reached you, probably killing you instantly. This time there was no way out, and you closed your eyes while you met your unavoidable fate.

This wasn’t a bad way to die, you supposed. You hadn’t lived too long, but you had lived your life to the fullest, running away through the stars with a psychopath alien and visiting places most of your kind couldn’t even dream about. You were at peace with yourself, suspecting that The Master wouldn’t be too affected by your loss and knowing that you had already lived longer than what could be expected of such a fragile being living such a dangerous life.

You were ready to let the rest of your body hit the floor and say goodbye forever, but then The Master’s hands gripped you tight from each side of your body and pushed you up and forwards, giving you the last boost you needed to reach the TARDIS’ doors.

“What are you doing?!” His angry tone reprimanded you as he positioned himself behind you to shield you from your persecutors. “Run!”

Taking The Master’s hand in yours again, you finally made it to the insides of the TARDIS, the comfort of the familiar console room greeting you as she hummed happily at your arrival. As soon as the doors closed, you threw yourself onto the Time Lord, surrounding him with your arms to pull him into a victory hug, or more a thankfulness hug for having saved your life seconds earlier.

You squeezed him tight as you let fear crawl out of your body, starting to feel safe again by his side. For a moment you had truly believed he wouldn’t turn back for you, that he would simply get inside his ship and forget about the fact you had ever existed. But now, after watching him risking his own life to save yours, you realized there wasn’t a single place in the universe where you could really be endangered if you were with him.

As your breathing calmed and you stopped hearing the throbbing of your heart buzzing in your ears, you heard him hiss slightly at the same time you felt the lower part of your torso dampening. Getting away from him, you discovered your shirt was covered in blood, and immediately, you lifted it up to find there was no wound underneath.

Looking again in The Master’s direction and finding that his belly was also covered in the thick liquid, you didn’t let him time to say anything before undoing the lower buttons of his shirt and discovering a bullet wound on the right side of his torso.

Blood was quickly coming out of it, and you were quick to tear the lower side of your shirt so you could use the fabric to press against the bullet hole and stop the bleeding. You had always seen that work in movies, but the material was soon soaked and you realized you couldn’t stop him from bleeding out when you found a second wound a few centimeters above the first one.

“You’re going to bleed to death…” Fear was starting to form in the pit of your stomach as your mind rushed trying to find a solution to the mess developing right in front of you.

“Don’t exaggerate.” He said, as if he had just gotten an insignificant scratch. “I will be fine.”

“No.” You shook your head, taking some piece of clothing you had left in the room earlier and placing it over his belly in hopes it would do something more than the piece of fabric you had used earlier. That didn’t seem to stop the bleeding either and you started to become more and more desperate. “You need to regenerate.”

The Master frowned at you, and then you realized the weak state in which he was. In normal situations, he would have look way more threatening and powerful with the simple act of just lying his eyes on you. Now, looking at the titanic effort he put in simply trying to stay awake was enough for you to pity him.

When you thought of The Master, many adjectives came to your mind, but pity had never before been a word you would’ve use him to describe him.

“I’m not going to regenerate for something so stupid.” He immediately refused, and you cursed him internally as you guided him to the nearest couch, hand still pressing on the side of his body as you helped him sit down as comfortably as possible.

“You’re dying.” You tried to reason with him, but his stubbornness was too much to handle at the moment. He didn’t say a thing as he let the weight of his body collapse on the piece of furniture, and you watched him in desperation. “Please, just do the goddamn thing!”

You pressed the fabric in your hands harder against his wounds, wishing that he would listen to you for once in his life. When you got no answer from him, you lifted your stare to his face again, realizing he had lost consciousness.

“No, no, no, no...” You muttered as you shook his body slightly, trying to get him to wake up. “Wake up, come on. Just wake up and regenerate!”

Seeing that he wouldn’t respond, you immediately decided to check for his heartbeat. Or more correctly, heartbeats. Placing two fingers on the side of his neck, you found that the rhythm of his two hearts was starting to get very similar to the one your single heart made, and then you realized just in how much danger he was.

You were no doctor, but he had already lost a lot of blood. If you did nothing, you feared he could be dead in less than a few hours.

You had been under The Master’s care and protection for so long that now that you were the one that had to look after him, you felt completely helpless. How were you supposed to help him? All you knew about Time Lord’s biology was that they could regenerate when in life or death situations, and he had refused to do it, so you were out of ideas.

“Please, help me…” You felt your eyes watering as you cupped his face in between your hands, shaking it from side to side slightly in yet another attempt to bring him back in himself and get him to help you save him.

You didn’t get any response from him, but you heard the TARDIS humming intensely at you. And you felt relieved to at least have received a single answer to your plea, even if it was by some piece of seemingly inanimate, alien technology. Turning your head to the center of the room, you watched the console lights flicker as she indicated you to get closer to the controls of the ship. Understanding what she wanted you to do, you looked at The Master one last time.

“I’ll never forgive you if you dare to die on me.”

He looked as calmed as you had ever seen him, eyes closed and facial expressions completely relaxed. Your last thought while looking at him before rushing to the controls, was that you wished you could see that serenity in him more often, in better situations that the one taking place now of course.

Placing yourself before the buttons and levers of the console, you found yourself completely lost. You had seen The Master piloting the TARDIS billions of times, but looking down at the controls you couldn’t recall any of the movements he made while doing so… Was it really that hard to show you how to pilot the TARDIS? Hadn’t he thought it could be useful in a situation like this one? And why couldn’t you have a better memory? How could you have seen him doing so many times and not have the slightest idea of what to do?

You searched around the console in hopes of finding a piloting manual, some instructions, or at least some note handwritten by the dying Time Lord that could give you some clue on how to put the time travelling ship in motion. But when you found nothing and realized you wouldn’t even know when or where to take the ship to if you knew how to pilot it, you started to feel impotence taking over you.

The Master was dying because of you, because he had stopped to help you, a simple, useless human. And you weren’t able to do anything to help him, to make things right. You were the one dying, not him.

Feeling the lump forming in the back of your throat you wished you could turn back time and stop him from helping you get to the ship.

How ironic was that? You were inside a time travelling machine, desperate to go back in time, and you simply couldn’t. You had never felt so small and worthless in your whole life as the tears started to fall down your cheeks.

“I don’t know what to do…” You looked back towards The Master, his unconscious body laid on the other side of the room. Your eyes examined him with an apologetic look for a few seconds before the TARDIS’ hum called you again.

Following the sound she made, you realized she was trying to draw you attention to one specific lever of the console, one she had pointed out by illuminating it with a characteristic purple light. Assuming she was trying to guide you, you got closer to the lever and pulled it without thinking it twice, desperate to at least try something to fix the situation.

When you heard the approving hum of the TARDIS and noticed the way she illuminated a close button in the same purple light, you proceeded to push that button too, and then the next one she pointed you to. You honestly didn’t know what any of those controls were doing or if you would be able to follow her instructions well enough to get The Master somewhere safe, but you had no time to waste with doubt and second-guessing.

You rushed through the console’s controls, pulling and pressing as soon as the TARDIS indicated you what it was that you had to do next. After pulling one final lever, you noticed the ground beneath your feet tremble as the ship entered the time vortex. You looked back at The Master one last time as the ship landed in an unknown location and time.

“Is it done?” You asked her, quickly wiping away the tears that had fallen from your eyes seconds earlier.

She gave you yet another hum, and you supposed you would need to go outside and figure out if you had succeeded in piloting the TARDIS to the right place. When you ran outside and found yourself inside a building that seemed like what you knew as a hospital, you finally let out the breath that you had been holding.

By the time The Master woke up again, he was lying inside a hospital bed, a sharp pain on his side and a little dizziness caused by whatever substance they were putting into his IV, which he quickly took off without even acknowledging what it was. He attempted to get off the bed to try and find out in which planet he was, or how he had gotten there, but he found himself too weak to move, the stabbing pain on his side making him desist from it.

Giving up and lying his head back on the pillow again, he caught a glimpse of something that look like a bracelet on his right wrist. When he looked at it, he realized his data was printed on that bracelet:

SPECIES: Time Lord

AGE: ?

NAME: Doctor

He immediately frowned at the name of his older enemy on his own hand, and for a second he theorized about being dead and having been sent to the profundities of hell as a punishment for his numerous crimes during his extremely long existence. For a second he feared he would have to live as The Doctor for the rest of eternity.

If there was in fact something similar to hell, he was sure this was it.

Your entrance in the room interrupted his thoughts as he sighed in relief by seeing you. He let out the air too fast out of his lungs, and he couldn’t help but hiss in pain.

“How are you feeling?” You asked him after you realized he had gained consciousness back again, closing the door behind you.

“Better than ever, love.” He said with that smug smile on his face, trying to ignore the intense ache on the side of his torso.

You looked at him for a few seconds, upset that he would act as if nothing had happened. Well, he was The Master. He was an expert in being annoying, you thought. What else could you expect from him?

“I hope it’s really hurting, you thick idiot.” You spitted out, not holding yourself back as you bitterly let him know just how angry you were with him. Had you been anyone else, you wouldn’t have probably lived to tell about it “Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?! I thought you were dying!”

“Dying is not something I’m very good at, as you can see.” The Master casually said with a pompous smirk on his face, one you wished you could slap off him. You simply decided to ignore his comment.

“Why didn’t you just regenerate? Do you have any idea how many trouble you would have spare me?”

“I thought you liked this face, pet.” He raised an eyebrow at you, arrogance showing all over his face as you couldn’t help but blush slightly. It was true you found him attractive, but he clearly didn’t need you to boost his already enormous ego.

“I would have rather have you alive with a different face than dead with this one.”

For barely a second you could see the façade in The Master’s eyes fall apart as you said those words. You knew he wasn’t very keen on talking about feelings, but you hoped he knew you were being serious.

“How did we arrive here?” He quickly changed the subject. “And why am I The Doctor now?”

“I brought us here. The TARDIS taught me to pilot her” You started to explain, watching the surprised look on his face as he tried to imagine you maneuvering his ship. “And well, when they asked me what your species was so they could give you the right medication, I thought I would tell them the truth, but when they asked me for your name I figured telling them they were treating one of the most dangerous criminals in all of time and space wasn’t such a great idea.”

“I would have rather you letting me die before letting anyone think I was her.” He rolled his eyes and ripped off the bracelet on his wrist, clearly annoyed by the idea of being mistaken for his former best friend.

“If you hadn’t stopped for me back then I wouldn’t have had to do it!” You pointed out in frustration, tired of him only complaining. You knew The Master would never thank you for saving his life, but those comments he made were starting to get you on your nerves. The Time Lord started at you in confusion for a few seconds, eyes glued to your face as he tried to decode what was going through your mind before forcing himself inside of it. After staying silent for several seconds, you decided to ask right away. “Why would you risk your life for me anyway?”

“You’re my pet, dear. I’m supposed to keep you safe.” He replied as if it was an obvious thing. When you had first met him, you had never thought you would hear him speak that way about a human.

“Not if it costs you your own life!”

“Did you really want me to abandon you?” He asked, tone deadly serious and eyes inspecting you carefully.

“No, but…” Sighing, you tried to find a proper way to express what was going on inside your head. “I would never want you to get hurt because of me. I’m only human, and my life is so ephemeral and fragile… Your life is way bigger and exciting than what mine could ever be, and you shouldn’t put it at risk because of me. I’m dispensable.”

While hearing your words, The Master regretted every time he had told you how inferior you were because of your ‘human condition’. He had seen you as dispensable at first, but he no longer considered you anything other than his equal, his partner in crime. The fact that you had grown to see yourself as something of less worth than him was almost as painful as the injury on his side.

“Don’t you ever say something like that again.” He warned you in what almost sound like a threatening tone. “You’re not dispensable. If you were I wouldn’t have you in my TARDIS. I did what I did, and I would do it again if I had to, love. I promised to take care of you and that’s exactly what I’m going to do, no matter the cost. Is that understood?”

A little taken aback but moved by his words, you simply nodded, trying to regain composure again.

“Good, now help me get out of here.” Without giving you a second to react, he immediately attempted to get out of the mattress. You quickly rushed to his side to try and get him to lay back again.

“What are you doing? You’re still not ready to go!” You tried to convince him to stay in the hospital for a little longer, to give himself some time to fully recover. Deep down you knew everything you’d try would be useless, knowing that he would run away from that room at the first chance he got. He would probably even want to go plan his next heist right after arriving the TARDIS, as if nothing had ever happened.

“It won’t take long for the staff to discover you lied about my identity, and they’ll want some explanations.” He began to explain to you. “We need to be gone by the time they arrive.”

Closing your eyes, you realized he was right. That was one of the few inconveniences of travelling around space and time causing chaos and destruction, you couldn’t stay anywhere for too long if you didn’t want to get caught, and The Master was a wanted man in practically every corner of the universe.

“Okay, we are leaving.” The Master’s face was adorned with a pleased smile as he heard your words. “But don’t even think about getting into trouble for the next few days. You’re going to get a full recovery first. You have to promise me.”

“I promise you, pet.” He stated as he leaned onto you to use your body as support when he got up.

“Oh, and I’m piloting the TARDIS, by the way.” You added, gaining a warning look from him. “What? You are going to need a lot of rest in the next few days and I have to practice in case I have to pilot her again.”

#Dhawan!Master #Dhawan Master #Dhawan!Master x reader #Sacha Dhawan #Dhawan Master x reader #Dhawan!Master x you #Dhawan Master x you #Doctor who fanfiction

103 notes · View notes

ressyfaerie · 3 years

Note

Do you still take any requests? If you mind... since you've asked about crack pair, how about Tyson x Raul? I'd like to request Tyson and Raul as backpackers and traveled around the world. Imagine if they get lost in the jungle and meet Blitzkreig Boys when in their lost.

I prefer sub version, but you can choose as long as you comfortable 😄💕

(Btw I'm @circus-and-roses but I requested with this account since I've planned to move into this blog)

I love me a good crack ship, honesty Tyson and Raul sounds dope af I can see them totally vibin. This is a prompt with SO MUCH like how do I get the demolition boys in the jungle? How gay can I make Tyson and Raul? Are they campers who can survive a jungle? How am I going to tie this together? Writing all of this in a short fic will be the ultimate challenge, you better be prepared, if i can pull this off I will be the most amazing fanfic writer/ detective genius (UPDATE I got really into it! And I accidentally started using dub names I’m sorryyyy this turned into a FULL FIC LOL) so I’m popping it into a read more:

Tyson couldn’t stop staring at Raul.

They had been dating two years and Tyson still felt head over heels. He would be the first to admit they were an odd pair, but after talking for hours over two meals after the championships, it just clicked, and here they were.

Except not really, because here, was the Amazon, yeah the jungle? In Brazil? You know the one.

The sweat rolled down Tyson’s neck and Raul almost tripped staring at it.

“Raul stop staring at your boyfriend and focus on where you’re walking.” Hiro scolded him.

Raul and Tyson had been traveling the world for a few months, However their trip was cut short when they were called on this expedition immediately, they had to drop everything in Venice and jump on the first plane.

Why?

Bit beasts of course.

Raul leaned over Tyson’s shoulder grasping his bicep and feeling it up juuust a little bit.

“How is Dragoon?” He whispered it to Tyson, he didn’t have to whisper, honestly he just wanted the attention.

Tyson rubbed his forearm over his forehead wiping off more sweat. He made sure he wasn’t too aggressive, he didn’t want Raul to let go of his arm, he pulled out Dragoon with his open hand.

“He’s not as active as he was an hour ago.”

Hiro heard Tyson clearly and gave a hand signal to the rest of the expedition team behind him who all sighed and stopped. Hiro made his way to Tyson.

“Show me dragoon.” Hiro demanded.

Tyson showed him his blade which was glowing with a faint blue hue.

Hiro groaned, “With Dragoon changing it’s mind this much we’re never going to find the rock before any of the other teams.”

Tyson shook his head, “I wonder if any of the other guys are having this much trouble.”

Raul comfortingly patted Tyson’s head. “It’s going to be fine Tyson, if we don’t find it someone else will-”

“No Raul.” Hiro growled, “Don’t you get it? We need to get it first for the BBA.”

Raul was too pure, he didn’t understand the companies rivalry, “But- we’re all friends-.”

“No, not right now. Max is with the PPB they already have a bitbeast rock. Ray is with the white tigers and they want their own rock for their village, and Kai-”

“Kai is with the Demolition boys.” Tyson grumbled.

Hiro interrupted. “And they want the rock for themselves. Don’t you get it Raul? We have to get it first.”

Raul sighed still holding on to Tyson, “I just don’t understand why we can’t all just- Share.”

Hiro laughed and rolled his eyes, “Tyson you need to teach your boyfriend a thing or two.”

“Don’t worry,” Tyson winked, “He’s gonna get it later.”

“Hey!” Raul smirked more than happy to receive his punishment later.

Tyson looked down at Dragoon again, still glowing the same hue.

“You have to do it again?” Raul asked Tyson.

“Yeah.” Tyson began to walk around the section of the jungle in circles, surveying dragoon the whole time waiting for any change in energy. He shook his head.

“Nothing?” Raul felt bad, his boyfriend never looked so disheartened.

Tyson shook his head again. Raul approached him and gave him a tight hug around his neck.

“Oh my god stop I’m so sweaty!” Tyson giggled.

“Tyson can you get serious for a second?” Hiro yelled to him.

Tyson knew if Hiro could take Dragoon and do it himself he would, but they needed Tyson’s energy to fuel Dragoon, it wouldn’t work in the hands of anyone else.

“I wonder how the other guys are making out…” Tyson closed his eyes and swayed his head back and forth thinking and calming himself in Rauls embrace.

“I’m sure they’re having just as hard of a time as you are.” Raul kissed his ear reassuring him.

“No, I’m doing better.” Tyson smirked.

“Really? How come?” Raul didn’t believe him.

“Cause none of them have a boyfriend as amazing as you.”

Raul buried his red face in Tyson’s neck embarrassed.

“You’re cute.” Tyson reached up and ruffled his hair. “Come on, let’s set up camp.”

The expedition team set up their camp and elevated tents. Neither Tyson or Raul were fans of camping, especially not in a deadly jungle. Tyson remember Raul’s reaction when he told him he was going:

“You know there’s birds that kidnap BABIES there right!?”

Tyson laughed remembering his terrified expression.

Tyson couldn’t sleep. He hopped out of bed and pulled out Dragoon.

“Damn.” It was still the same hue and glow as before. He put on his shoes and left the tent.

He stood in the jungle just outside camp holding Dragoon.

“Come on! It makes no sense- One moment you’re glowing like crazy and now nothing?”

“Tyson?” Raul appeared from behind a tree, “you can’t be away from camp like this.”

“Raul it’s been days since Dragoon had that glow. Apparently no one’s found the rock yet. So what is happening?”

Raul could sense his boyfriend’s frustration bubbling over. He grasped his hand and smiled at him.

“We will figure it out.”

Tyson let go of his hand fast.

“Tyson?” Raul was surprised, but also slightly offended.

“No- It’s not you- Dragoon.”

“He is kinda glowing a bit more huh?”

At that moment Dragoon emitted a radiant light.

“Raul!” Tyson moved Dragoon side to side, pinpointing the location he was pointing him in.

Tyson started in that direction.

“Tyson! You can’t just go wandering the jungle in the dark!” Raul yelled after him, “We have to go back to camp and get Hiro-”

“Raul if I do that Dragoon might stop! I need to go now!” Tyson whined, he could already feel the power from Dragoon fading, Raul hesitated biting his lip.

“Are you staying or going?” Tyson didn’t mean to sound so intense, but he knew time was running out.

“I’m coming, I can’t let you go alone-”

As soon as Tyson got permission he took off, Raul following closely behind him.

He used Dragoon to light his way and kept increasing his pace as he felt Dragoon’s power increase.

“Tyson slow down! Please! You’ll hurt yourself-”

“AH!” Tyson screamed as he slid down a gully and rolled over into a stream, Raul fell behind him and collapsed against him.

Or not him?

“What! Who!”

The other boy got up, he had just fallen as well. Raul couldn’t see anything but feel, he grasped his arm, “Who are you!?”

“Mff- get the hell off me Tyson-” The boy cursed.

Tyson used Dragoon to light up the boy’s face, at the same time the boy shone a red light in their faces.

“Kai!?” Tyson and Raul shouted in unison.

“Don’t act so surprised, you knew I was around here after all.” Kai grumbled.

“Why are you out here this late alone?” Tyson asked worriedly.

“I could ask the same thing about you two

“We have each other-”

Kai laughed, “That’s just about as useful as a Beblade without a ripcord.”

“Shut up Kai.” Tyson shot back.

“So why are you out here Kai?” Raul asked, clearing the tension.

Kai’s eyes shot side to side, he was debating on telling them or not.

“Dranzer. She hasn’t had any activity in days, and finally tonight, she was like fire.”

“Same with Dragoon!” Tyson chimed in.

“Odd.” Kai responded.

The three sat in the muddy area conflicted on what to do next. The two ancient bit beast wielders stared at their blades which had mysteriously stopped shining brightly.

“Where’s your camp?” Kai asked.

“Um-” Tyson hummed.

“You’re lost? Morons.” Kai laughed in disbelief, they were really a lost cause. “The demolition boys camp is just on the other side of this ridge. You can stay there the night before heading out.”

“Wow really! Thanks Kai!” Raul thanked him, but Tyson squinted his eyes wondering if Kai had secret intentions.

Once they got to camp Tyson and Raul discovered the Demo boys were really not in their element. Kai didn’t seem to mind the heat in the rainforest, but the humidity was killing him, the rest of the boys, well they looked like icicles on a hot beach.

They barely talked to the boys, they didn’t seem interested. Kai’s tent was the biggest so they all squished into it.

“Don’t be weird.” Kai scolded them before rolling over to head to sleep himself.

Tyson jabbed Kai in the stomach, “what do you think we’re going to do jerk?”

Kai shook his head.

Tyson glared at him, “I haven’t seen you in ages Kai and you think I’m going to do weird things with my boyfriend while sharing a tent with you in the jungle-”

Kai placed his hands over his ears, “I’m not listening! Stop being weird-”

Raul shot a look at Kai and coyly addressed Tyson, “imagine if we just made out right now-”

“I will kick you out of my tent back into the jungle immediately.” Kai said deadpan.

Eventually they all fell asleep.

Dawn broke and Tyson blinked trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He rolled over and saw Dragoon.

Glowing bright.

Tyson ripped the single blanket off himself and shook Raul.

“Raul get up! Now!”

Raul made a disinterested sound, Tyson shoved Dragoon in his face and he forced himself awake immediately.

Tyson started to put on a shoe, but his eyes lingered on Kai’s sleeping silhouette. Dranzer glowed red like flames beside him.

Tyson could get to the rock before him. But that wouldn’t be fair.

Tyson made sure Raul was ready to go, he held his shoe that wasn’t on in his hand.

He threw it at Kai.

Kai sat up startled and cursing at Tyson.

Tyson pointed to his blade while shoving on his boot.

“Looks like we got a head start!”

Tyson and Raul leaped out of the tent while Kai’s yelling faded behind them.

They followed the glow through the jungle for hours and finally found a rockface.

“Tyson we have been scouting around this mountain for days. It can’t be in the mountain, we would know.”

Tyson held out Dragoon, the glow was so bright it hurt to look at.

“It has to be around here somewhere Raul-”

Raul had started climbing the rockface.

“What are you doing that’s dangerous!” Tyson hollered at his boyfriend, but Raul didn’t seem to care.

“It has to be on the mountain Tyson! It’s the only explanation!”

Tyson viewed the cliff from a few steps back. It could be scaled, but it would be sketchy. He decided to follow his boyfriend’s lead.

“Here comes my dragon.” Raul called Tyson his nickname in a cute voice.

Tyson laughed, “You better not let this dragon catch up with you-”

“Oh no-” Raul giggled.

“Hey hey don’t climb too fast!”

At the top they stopped and laid down catching their breath.

“That was awesome.” Tyson smirked and reached for Raul’s hand.

Raul got up on his feet and held out his hand to Tyson, Tyson took it, Raul pulled him up dragging him into a kiss.

Tyson pushed himself away first. “That was amazing.”

“What does Dragoon look like?”

Tyson pulled out Dragoon again which was pulsing.

“That’s different?” Raul knit his eyebrows.

“We must be close.”

They continued into the dense forest on the top of the mountain.

“Ugh!” Tyson kept throwing vines out of his face. Raul followed behind him, until finally, they reached a clearing.

“Tyson?”

Tyson saw a familiar face on the other side of the clearing, it was Ray.

“Ray!” Tyson was happy to see his friend, he noticed Driger in his hand, glowing brightly.

Behind Ray, Max popped out from behind him, “Tyson!”

Max ran toward Tyson throwing out his arms and giving Tyson a massive bear hug.

“Ah! You’re killing me!” Tyson groaned but wore a huge smile.

Max pulled out Draciel, “Is Dragoon pulsing too?”

“Yeah.” Tyson showed Dragoon to Max and Max showed him Draciel in return.

Ray approached them with Drigger as well.

“Did you guys have as hard of a time getting them to show the way as much as I did?” Tyson laughed and scratched the back of his head.

“Oh yeah.” Max sounded exasperated, Ray nodded in agreement.

“Yeah me too.”

Another familiar voice.

“Kai!” Max screeched and approached Kai with his bear hug embrace.

Kai tried to shrug him off but gave up receiving a light hug.

“Okay. So now what?” Ray questioned.

“Um…” Tyson looked around the clearing hoping for an answer.

“We’re on top of a mountain, and this is where our bit beasts are strongest.” Kai pointed out.

“Let’s try putting them in the middle of the clearing.” Max suggested.

They all shrugged, no one had a better idea.

They all piled their beyblades in the middle of the clearing and sat in a circle watching their blades pulsate.

“Well. It was worth a try.” Ray pointed out awkwardly.

Raul kept scratching at the ground and messing with the rainforest substrate.

“If you keep doing that you’ll dig to the other side of the earth.” Tyson joked.

Raul laughed but frowned when he touched something hard in the ground. He started to dig away the moss and dirt revealing a perfectly smooth rock underneath.

“There’s no way you found it just like that.” Kai was mildly pissed off.

Max started to pull away moss and dirt, then Tyson and Ray joined it. They had cleared half the clearing revealing the smooth rock which also seemed to have designs engraved into it.

“Come on Kai help us!” Tyson yelled at Kai. Kai uncrossed his arms reluctantly and got down and started digging as well.

“Wait.” Tyson stopped.

They all stopped to look at him.

“What if this whole mountain is the rock?”

They surveyed the clearing, they had almost unearthed all of it and the smooth surface just kept going.

“I think you’re right Tyson.” Ray laughed.

“So-,” Max stood back up awkwardly, “Who found it first?”

You could cut the tension with a knife.

“The bigger question is, who can transport an entire mountain?” Ray laughed thinking how absurd the situation was.

“How about, the bladebreakers found it.”

Tyson suggested it but was met with different expressions.

“It’s really the only option.” Kai stated bluntly.

“We will all have to share the discovery.” Ray grinned, knowing it was for the best.

“Oh!” Raul jumped.

“What?” Tyson couldn’t stop admiring his cuteness.

“So we’re all sharing then?”

Tyson blinked realizing Raul was right. “Yeah! Ha! I guess we are!”

Raul drummed on Tyson’s arm excitedly.

“Oh I can’t wait to see the look on Hiro’s dumb face!”

9 notes · View notes