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hournites · 3 years

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A lot of ways to love you (teach me through your eyes)

Hournite Week Day 7: Love Languages

Summary: Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Gifts, Quality Time, Touch. Or, Rick, Beth, and their many languages of love.

Thank you for coming along on this first HN week journey with me! ❤️

~.~

Words of Affirmation

Beth found Rick by himself at the corner of their shared history class, carving his initials into the desk. She didn’t understand why he’d put himself there. It was like a brooding corner to be miserable.

“Hey,” she said, taking the seat in front of his desk. “What’s wrong?”

Rick dug deeper to splinter the wood. “They think I cheated on my chem test.”

Without asking, Beth unzipped Rick’s bag to pull out the test. Rick let her.

She gaped at him as she scanned over the F and comments from the teacher. He always treated Beth kindly when they passed in the halls, but she never actually had Mr. Geralds. Chemistry wasn’t her strong suit like Rick, but there wasn’t a doubt that she’d given some of the same answers with a great grade from the other science teacher. “Are you serious? That’s crazy. You’re going to contest that, right?”

“You’re not going to even ask if I did?”

“I know you didn’t, you’re too smart.”

“I used to steal shit,” he muttered under his breath and dropped his pencil. “Haven’t heard you say I’m too smart for that.”

Beth slipped his test into her folder to return to at a later time, right now focusing on Rick.

“Hey, that’s not fair.” When Rick wouldn’t meet her eyes, she leaned in closer. “Look at me.”

Rick did.

“You know you deserved a good grade. And you’ve done what you did to get by.” She glanced at the vandalism briefly. “There are people here who know you’re better than what the majority of the town thinks.” She lowered her voice to keep her next words between them. “You’re a hero. You’ve helped save everyone in this town. So show them who you really are.”

She smiled when he let out a small huff, she knew he was listening. “I’ll go to the principal’s office with you, and we can get Pat to vouch for us. We both know that for Chem you should be in AP.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” he lied, shifting uncomfortably from all her nice words.

“If it weren’t a big deal, you wouldn’t have done that.” She pointed at the roughened mess he’d made of the school desk. “I know you better than you think.”

Act of Service

“Has anyone seen Beth?”

Rick walked around the main area of Pat’s cabin. It was after 2 AM. Barbara and Jennie were making late-night comfort food in the kitchen. Pat was manning the first aid station, tending to Mike, Jakeem and Yolanda’s injuries from Sportsmaster. Courtney was bonding or something with the staff in some strange ritual she had after a life-threatening mission. Rick just stepped out of the shower, washing the grime from his arms and face.

“She’s upstairs, I think!” Yolanda called, holding her ribs from her seat on top of the table. Rick shook his head when Pat admonished her not to yell. Rick made it up the stairs two at a time, stopping when he found Beth with her packed school bag on the floor in front of the couch. She was searching through papers, openly crying. She hadn’t even taken her cape off yet.

Rick crouched down beside her. “Hey,” he said softly. She looked utterly exhausted. “Are you okay? You said you didn’t get hurt.”

“I’m not hurt.” She hiccuped, flipping through more papers, a little hysterical. It looked like it was for school. “I can’t find my math assignment. It’s due tomorrow morning.”

“Did you finish it?” he asked.

“I don’t remember.” She wiped at her tears as she cried harder. “I might’ve left it at home, I can’t find it. I’m too tired, I can’t think.”

“Yeah,” Rick agreed. His bones were weary but he had always felt the least affected after battling it out with the ISA. He suffered plenty of superficial cuts and bruises, but he hardly felt them because his hourglass really protected him. He couldn’t imagine the hit the night must’ve taken on Beth’s body. Pat was going to be driving them back to main Blue Valley at 4 or 5 o’clock in the morning to get them back to school. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a random Wednesday. It’s not like they had a choice.

“Did you ask Chuck?”

“No.” Her lip wobbled, face contorting into another sob. Rick regretted asking. It was clear she was far too drained. It would’ve been simple to have asked Chuck to scan her bag to find out, but she hadn’t thought of it.

“Okay, okay,” Rick said. “Go to bed. You’re not going to be able to do the homework now even if you found it.” Rick got up to get to the top of the stairs, calling down for Barbara.

When he returned, he helped her up and managed to get her to let go of her school bag. “We’ll look for it before we leave, okay?” Rick ran a hand through his damp hair, his own eyelids started to droop. “I promise you’ll get it done before school.”

Barb joined them upstairs and coaxed Beth to change out of her suit, leading her downstairs with her regular clothes and a promise of a warm bed and tea.

Rick followed to grab Chuck when Beth wasn’t looking, turning him on once alone to help identify if this alleged math homework was even in her bag. Together they found what she was talking about. Ten problems of pre-calc. She was right. It was rushed and not done.

Rick sighed, tucking it under his arm. He said goodnight to the rest and retired to his assigned room. He turned on the lamp on the desk where he first solved the code of his father’s journal, spreading out the assignment and using Chuck as a calculator. It dawned on him an hour later as he rubbed at his tired eyes how he would be staying up all night to finish homework that wasn’t even his.

Gifts

Beth was immersed in her book when two hands landed on her collarbone. She looked down, touching the skin at the opening of her shirt when she felt the weight of something new at the base of her throat.

“What’s this?”

Rick murmured in her ear from behind. “An early birthday present.”

She let out a soft gasp when he finished with the clasp. A tiny brass hourglass pendant with sand just like Hourman’s trickled steadily beside her rainbow pendant.

“Woah.” She glanced up at him. “You got me an hourglass?” She bit down on her lip, dread creeping into her mind when she realized this had to be expensive. She struggled to voice what she was feeling out loud, but Rick must’ve caught the complicated expression on her face. He smoothed his hand along the sleeve of her cardigan and reassured her the cost didn’t push him into any kind of financial ruin.

“Did you not realize I’ve been working for Pat before school? I had some spare cash. Trust me, there’s nothing better I’d spend my money on.”

The puzzle clicked into place. Beth had been meeting Rick at the Pit Stop every morning before school for what felt like months now. It made sense he was there to work on the cars. Beth felt her face heat up at his implicit soft-spoken confession. “Thank you,” she said in a whisper, still in awe. The necklace was beautiful and she felt fuzzy ever since his hands were on her neck. “I love it.”

His eyes, usually hardened and defensive, skilled at warding off unwanted attention, now creased at the corners. Gentle, quiet, yearning, he watched her accept his gift. “I’m glad.”

Impulsively she asked, “Could you unclasp the rainbow one?”

Rick did. The chain pooled in her palm. She shook her head, pushing it to his chest. “You should have it.”

His brows furrowed in response. “You want to give me your... rainbow necklace?”

She flushed when he said it like that. She toyed with her new one, looking at him from beneath her lashes. “Well…” she said. “I have something of you, now you can have a symbol of me.”

Rick let out a small laugh. Beth was pretty sure if this were anyone else he’d say it was stupid, so she couldn’t help the surge of pride when he nestled her necklace around his own neck.

“How does it look?”

It was actually twisted. She flattened it so it would look the way it was supposed to over the collar of his shirt. Rick didn’t complain, but it was bright and cheery and clashed with his entire self. Beth bit her lip, withholding another laugh, and took pity on him, changing her mind to tuck the necklace underneath. “Perfect now.”

“Beth, I hate to interrupt this moment but you will be late for school if you don’t leave the Pit Stop in the next five minutes.”

Chuck broke them out of their weird double transfixion. They both found themselves smiling shyly at each other, neither truly wanting to move.

“Come on,” he said after another few moments of them smiling at each other without moving. “Put your bike in my trunk. I’ll drive you.”

Quality Time

When Rick stopped by at Beth’s locker, she was talking to Charity, a new close friend she made over the summer volunteering at the Blue Valley Community Centre.

“Hey,” Rick greeted, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, waiting for Beth to visit.

“Hey,” Charity said back. She swept her blonde bangs out of her face to continue their conversation.

“Charity had a great idea that we should enter for the sustainability case competition,” Beth filled in.

“We’re going to need at least a month to prepare. I was thinking we could meet Tuesdays and Thursdays after school?”

Rick stuck a hand in his pocket, sullen. Thursdays were their days, unofficially. Not that they’ve ever said so out loud, but with JSA training afternoons the rest of the week, Beth working on a case competition their days off basically meant not getting to see her. Which was fine. It happened. Rick just wishes it didn’t have to.

“I can’t on Thursdays,” Beth told her. She glanced up at Rick to give him a smile. He straightened up, meeting her gaze with obvious surprise. “Those are our nights.”

Charity paused, watching the two with curious eyes.

“We can cancel,” Rick found himself saying and actually meaning it. “You don’t have to stay on my account.”

Beth’s nose scrunched up as she shook her head, mind already made. “Nah. Sorry Charity, Thursday doesn’t work for me. Take out your schedule, maybe we have a shared free period somewhere.”

“Oh, yeah, sure! Okay!”

Rick ducked his head to hide his smile as Charity fished through her bag for her agenda.

Touch

When Beth stumbled out of the cell she’d been bound in, she hadn’t realized just how long she’d been gone. She was hungry and exhausted and felt horrifically dirty in her soiled Dr. Mid-Nite suit, but then she got a glimpse of Hourman nearly pushing the others in his rush to get to her all she could feel was relief.

Rick cupped her face, eyes squeezed shut as he held her close, his thumbs brushed along her cheeks, under her dry eyes. She felt the buzz of adrenaline rushing through him just by being so near, but the way he touched her was gentle, so gentle.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he whispered, a startling unfamiliar word to fall in succession like that, coming from Rick. His hands flew to the crown of her cowl, tugging it down to kiss her forehead again and again. “Thank you.”

I’m okay now, she tried to comfort him, though her words were choked, smothered out by the crushing weight of it all. He was crying as his lips brushed over her face. It wasn’t his stamina. The buzz, she felt. Rick was shaking. It hit her then, that maybe he wasn’t sure Beth was ever going to come back. Beth had scared him. He was scared.

Beth vaulted with her tired, numb legs, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck. Her mind went calm for the first time since before they left home, muscles relaxing as she let Rick scoop her up.

She was safe. She was home.

Beth was loved.

#hournite week #hournite #hournite week 21 #hournites fic #love languages #fluff #hurt/comfort #i'm proud of this one

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onlydreamofmysoul · 3 years

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Under My Umbrella

Hey guys! Just a short lil solangelo fic!

Summary; The fate of Will’s art project lies in the hands of a kind stranger.

“No, no, no, no, no, no!” Will muttered as he dropped to his knees, scrambling to pick back up his art folder. “Please don’t be torn, please don’t be torn.” He chanted as he lifted it up from the sopping ground and looked it over. It was torn. Of course it was, Will thought as he frantically took off his raincoat and used it to cover his not quite damaged project. The folder had torn but Will had picked it up quickly enough that no water had gotten in yet. ‘Yet’ being the keyword here as it was absolutely lashing rain, Will had no umbrella and was now shucking off his jacket to protect the artwork that was worth 50% of his final grade.

“Well this is just fantastic.” He said sarcastically under his breath, ignoring the curious looks from passer-byers. There were New Yorkers, Will knew they saw much stranger things than a soaking wet college student on a regular basis and didn’t bat an eyelid but this they turned around in the street to look at? Will sighed. Just his luck. It didn’t help that this was one of the worst weeks Will had had in a long time, if not ever. On Monday, a woman on the subway had vomited all over Will. Tuesday, his phone fell and now there was a big crack all down the middle of the screen. On Wednesday, his roommate had accidentally turned off his alarm and Will was almost late for his history final. And now it was Thursday. Will thought his day couldn’t get any worse when his coffee machine broke and he had to face the day without being adequately caffeinated, but apparently the universe took that as a personal challenge. It was crazy! Until yesterday, Will didn’t even believe in the universe but it seemed some higher power was out to make his life miserable.

Will came to a halt at a pedestrian crossing, pushing the button and waiting for the little red man to turn green. Water streamed down his face in rivulets, dousing his clothes. Will was fairly sure the puddles in his shoes could rival the size of any lake and he was so damned cold that-

Suddenly, the rain stopped.

Will looked up in confusion but there was no sky above to be found, only black, water-proof fabric. Someone was holding an umbrella over him. Will glanced around, confused and noticed a guy around his age had come up beside him without Will even realising it. Will knew right then and there that he must have been so deep in his thoughts that he was half way into a coma because that was the only valid excuse for missing the arrival of the god-like presence before him.

“Thank you.” Will managed, his jaw quivering in the cold.

The mysterious stranger smiled, his dark brown eyes warming. His hair was shorter on the sides and longer on the top leaving a few strands to fall in soft curls around his face. His jawline looked sharp enough to kill a man and those cheekbones – Will could see the picture he would draw, this mysterious stranger, perfectly defined in a blur of people. An open umbrella held over his shoulder looking to the entire world like a black, water-resistant halo.

“Here, take it.” The guy said, and hello accent. If it were socially acceptable to swoon anymore, Will would have. But instead his eyes widened and he shook his head.

“No, I couldn’t, I mean, thank you so much, but don’t you need it?”

The guy smiled again. God, he was going to have to stop doing that unless he wanted to have to resuscitate Will right there on the spot.

“I live just there.” He said pointing to the building directly across the street. “So it’s fine. Besides,” He said looking Will up and down, a smirk dancing on his lips. “You look like you need it more.”

Before Will could even respond, the crossing light went green. The guy stepped onto the street and turned to Will with a wink.

“See you around sunshine.”

“Wait!” Will cried. “What’s your name? How will I get this back to you?”

Mysterious stranger spun around so he was now walking backwards. It was official - that was the single hottest thing Will had ever seen.

“Nico DiAngelo.” Ah, Will was right about the accent. “Apartment 3D. Wear something cute.”

And with one last wink, Nico disappeared into his building, the light went red and Will realised he had forgotten to even cross the road.

#ao3 OpeningMyEyes #solangelo #solangelo oneshot #Will solace #Nico di Angelo #will solace/nico di angelo #solangelo au #artist will solace #solangelo fic

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thebeautyofdisorder · 4 years

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The Undone & The Divine (BBC Dracula) - Chapters 1 & 2

A/N: Okay, I am rusty - very rusty, so feel free to give me some notes. This will be multiple parts - maybe 4 or 5 - and will remain open ended for future additions. It will be a snarky, confused occult monstrosity with a lot of thus far unresolved sexual tension and I'm not sorry. Takes place after the end of The Dark Compass. I will be posting this on AO3 eventually, but for now...

Rating: T, currently just for some blood and maybe language

Pairing: Dracula & Zoe/Agatha

Can be found on AO3 - Right HERE -

“Wherever this shadowed path might lead, we were both irrevocably committed to follow it to the end.” - Susan Kay, Phantom

Chapter 1

The first thought that arose in Zoe’s mind was simply that she shouldn’t be having any. No, an inward argument seemed to be countering, but that she had been growing accustomed to. Faith was an inner struggle she was stubbornly coming to terms with, given that there was a very literal opposing force in her ancestor that enjoyed prodding at her modern, atheistic convictions. Not even in religious fervor, nun’s habit notwithstanding, but just for amusement’s sake. She could see where she inherited her argumentative nature from.

Head swimming, potential psychosis or no, she had expected at least death to be final. A distant bell of alarm jolted somewhere in her mind, as some sense of memory and consciousness began to return to her, soon followed by sensation seeping back to her body. She expected the worst, but what she experienced instead was simply…nothing. The pain which had been her constant companion for the last few months was gone. She didn’t even feel the typical stiffness of a woman pushing forty waking up on a cold, hard surface should rightly feel.

Cold, hard surface…

Her eyelids shot open, and she sat up so quickly she felt immediately dizzy. At least there was still blood to rush to my head, she mused dimly, though luckily her legs hadn’t gotten the fight or flight message quite as quickly, or else she would have tumbled straight onto the floor. The hard, polished marble beneath her, still sticky with her blood, brought the events of the morning, however distant they were, rushing back to her.

If this wasn’t some twisted form of coma dream, and she wasn’t actually hooked up to some machine at the hospital, she was going to have to have a chat with Auntie Agatha about consenting to suicide by vampire. Mostly due to the fact she was very much alive – or at the very least, moving and conscious. Her hand pressed to her neck, feeling nothing but dried blood surrounding a slightly raised scar at the crook of her shoulder.

Not always equivalent, she reminded herself with barely repressed panic. Or maybe Agatha reminded her. It was becoming harder and harder to tell the difference.

But what of the vampire?

Half freezing in the semi-darkness, Zoe waited what felt like a decade, searching for any sound or sign of movement in the room…in the flat. Nothing. Silence.

The natural curiosity of the scientist, refusing to lay dormant any longer, pushed past her fear and uncertainty, and drove her to slide off the edge of the table on shaking legs. There was no sign of Dracula, dead or alive that she could see. Instead her eyes sought out a light switch.

She half expected to see a large pile of dust and ash, or worse – some sticky pile of blood and skin, like a B-horror film she’d seen as a teenager, but aside of what remained of Lucy, the floor was immaculate, in only the way the living dead could maintain.

Strangely lacking any sense of urgency, she paced through the rest of the flat, observing the dark modern decor with a distant amusement that belonged more to Agatha than to herself. The washroom was almost entirely unused, save for the large standing shower, more of a luxury than a necessity, she assumed. The kitchenette seemed to be only taking up space, and while there were a few stray tea bags and a chipped mug, likely belonging to some human help – the lawyer probably, the rest of it was barren. Finally reaching the bedroom, she found the curtains still fully drawn, and the bed large and vacant.

If he survived, he was gone. Some unknown part of her felt a pang of disappointment, and an equal echo of triumph. She wasn’t sure which one to blame Agatha for, and she was left no hints.

Well, that was one mystery solved.

Collapsing on the mattress, Zoe closed her eyes, and did something she never thought she’d have to do: she fell silent and listened for her own heartbeat. At first there was an unnerving stillness. Finally, after approximately 15 seconds (she had been counting), she heard the first soft thump in her chest. Half relieved, she let out a breath, and began counting again – she heard it once more. Faint and very slow, but present, yes!

Fascinating. Agatha’s quietly accented tone was one of clinical fascination, something Zoe could ascertain easily as it echoed through her mind.

Zoe quietly agreed. Somehow, she…they were now something more than undead, but less than fully alive.

Something like the count himself.

------

There were times that the highly illegal nature of the Harker Institute was a damning thing, and one that caused Zoe great inconvenience. This was not one of those times. A woman previously dying of cancer showing up to work to get a full range of clandestine tests was not something to be trusted to the general public. If she hadn’t been so amazed, she was sure her predecessor would’ve been highly disappointed to see her.

She had left Dracula’s London flat exactly as it was, and headed straight to the Institute. It wasn’t exactly a police matter, and now that Agatha had destroyed the vampire’s …agoraphobia? Whatever it was she had done, there wasn’t anything they could really do to ward him away. The sun was no longer a viable weapon, and while she was sure his distaste for Christian imagery wouldn’t just vanish overnight, his need to be invited into a location was gone and probably easily forgotten when convenient.

The dirt…well, that was a different story. She found no trace of it in his flat, save for a musty residue in the corner of a now empty closet. That was the one part of the puzzle she had yet to figure out. Was that just another part of his self-ordained folklore, or did it actually have some restorative power. Did it contain some needed mineral or compound? Surely there was a scientific reason behind it if so.

As scientific as why you’re walking around with half the blood you need to function? Or that you haven’t eaten in 36 hours and have no appetite. You can drink water, at least, that’s a blessing.

She refrained from voicing her annoyance aloud – last thing she needed was for her colleagues to think she was undead AND crazy. Neither of which was entirely true… or entirely false. At least they weren’t locking her up. Not yet.

“Dr. Helsing?”

Zoe shook herself from her thoughts to look up at the lab tech who’s just entered the room, giving the girl a distant smile.

“Yes?”

“Dr. Bloxham wants to see you downstairs…it’s about your test results.”

Which test results she wanted to ask, but didn’t, merely got up and followed the girl who was taking great pains to keep a healthy distance between them out of the room. She didn’t blame her. It had taken Jonathan Harker a month to show any vampiric urges. They saw her as a ticking time bomb.

------

“Well, for the positive, any trace of cancer seems to have…vanished from your system.”

Zoe had guessed as much, and perhaps her lack of reaction was what brought the look of concern to her colleague’s face.

“And for the negative?”

The other woman silently bit her lip for a moment, and instead of immediately responding, she stood from her chair and gestured for Zoe to take the seat in front of the computer.

Pointing from over her shoulder, Bloxham indicated two files in the folder in front of her. One was labeled with Zoe’s name, and the other was data collected from Dracula’s blood sample.

“What’re you trying to show me?” She sounded tired, and perhaps she was. It was hard to tell anymore. The enfeebled exhaustion she had felt constantly up until the night before was gone, but the memory lingered like a bad taste in her mouth.

“Open them.” The comment was clipped, but more in anticipation than impatience.

Zoe did just that, and looked over the standard blood analysis results. To say the differences were minimal was almost too generous.

“I don’t know what happened to you exactly – given you won’t tell me…,” she began, eyeing Zoe with a meaningful look, “But your DNA is...I don’t want to say mutated, but...altered. You’re alive, don’t get me wrong – but your readings all look as though they should come from someone on the verge of death – in a coma at the least! And well…look at you.” It was rhetorical, Zoe knew, but she still found herself seeking out the nearest reflective surface, just to ensure she saw her own face as she knew it looking back at her.

“I can’t force you, but I’m going to strongly recommend you stay here so you can be closely monitored for any further….changes.”

Zoe, never one to be a victim of circumstance, rolled her eyes with a casual scoff. If she was going to be anyone’s lab rat, it might as well be her own.

“Well, obviously. I want every even minimal change documented to the fullest,” she agreed, immediately standing to her feet and stalking over to a microscope she knew without needing to ask contained a slide of her sample, rerouting her focus. “Have you compared the saliva?”

The other woman’s relief was palpable. Or maybe she could smell it? Zoe shook that possibility off, quickly, refusing to jump to that particular conclusion quite so quickly.

“Still waiting for the full analysis, but what I do have is Dracula’s sample, which is frankly…fascinating,” Dr. Bloxham stated excitedly, eyeing Zoe with a curious expression as she approached, her caution taking a backseat to her excitement.

“Oh?” A woman after her own heart.

“Yes… take a look,” she offered, changing the slides quickly and offering the scope back for her perusal. “It contains some almost psychotropic like compound. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Zoe felt her body temperature rise for the first time since she’d awoken in London. She wasn’t sure if she had the circulation to blush, but she dearly hoped not. For once, there was no snarky Dutch echo in her mind – in fact, aside from a flash of orange light, and blink of another memory she couldn’t latch onto, her mind went suspiciously quiet.

“Yes. Fascinating.”

Chapter 2

Frank Renfield considered himself a generally normal man, by all intents and purposes. In fact, he had always been considered normal to the point of being right boring, so it was he himself who was most surprised how easily he had adjusted to playing personal assistant, in matters both legal and practical, to a blood drinking supernatural entity. On that note, it was with only minimal confusion that he found himself returning to his residence after a resolutely boring day at the office, to find his front door broken half off the hinges, and a trail of thick, congealing blood leading through his sitting room straight through to the loo.

“Master?” He called, uneasily, taking care to hop over a particularly dark pool seeping out from under the door.

He was met with silence, save for a subtle gurgling sound that brought a wince to his face, though it was not coming from his loo any more, but from the spare bedroom directly adjacent. He used to have a flatmate, but he’d moved months ago. The room now contained nothing but junk, some gym equipment he never used, and a few large crates that Count Dracula had asked him to store, though why he had no idea.

“C-count?” Renfield stammered, his hand turning the knob. Taking a deep, staggered breath, he finally pushed open the door.

The treadmill in the corner of the room, heavy and outdated as it was, was toppled and resting almost completely upside down. A box of heavy and expensive law tomes had been dumped out across the floor, and the box was now leaking a dark liquid which had soaked through the cardboard. The lid of one of the large wooden crates was splintered, and half-resting against the back of the door, making it impossible to push all the way open, though Renfield could see well enough from the hall that the crate was now overflowing with some sort of dark soil, and it was the tall form of what he assumed to be his master that was splayed at an unnatural angle inside of it, though he did not look like his suave and put together self.

His shirt was torn, and stained almost entirely in various shades of black, red and rust brown. His hair was graying in reverse, as though the color had dripped out of the roots, plastered around his aging face.

“Renfield…”

He heard the name whispered inside his mind, Frank realized with mild horror, because the sound that came from the creature in front of him was too much of a croak to contain any proper syllables. Finding the strength to force himself into the room, he rushed to the vampire’s side only to realize with a strange sort of amusement that the entire mess seemed to be due to Dracula vomiting all over his flat much like he had after his first college party. A stomach ache for a vampire, apparently was much worse than for a hungover teenage boy, however.

“Master! You seem to have eaten someone very unhealthy for you…. One moment.”

Dodging around the pools of what he could only assume was half-digested blood, Frank squeezed back out of the room and came back with a sterile bag of B-positive that he cautiously presented to the weakened form.

“Picked it up from the blood bank this morning… nuclear physicist, visiting from Sweden…seemed to be a wasted opportunity,” he offered, weakly, but he needn’t have bothered. The vampire had already punctured the bag with one of his ghastly sharpened nails before he’d opened his mouth and was sucking it down with a sharp and unsettling growl, and Renfield didn’t stay around to watch.

“I’ll go and…fetch something more lively, hm?” And with that he scuttled out of the room, before the count could regain the strength to seek out the next source of sustenance in sight…mainly him.

-------

“How are you feeling?”

“Indestructible.”

Indestructible. That had been the word he’d used, just before the ship had sent him to his century long sleep. He never thought for a moment that it would be true, nor that he would have any reason to lament that fact. And yet… here he laid. Weak, indeed. In pain, surely. But very much alive… as alive as he could get anyway. He had forced himself to ingest the poison, and he had waited for death’s sweet embrace. Nothing. He just laid there, the sun beaming directly into his eyes, his stomach roiling like it hadn’t done since he was an insipid mortal, and yet he never even lost consciousness! For once he had sought out oblivion, instead of fighting it, and it wouldn’t take him! The nerve! He had given death hundreds…thousands over the years! And she would still turn him away like some sort of petulant beggar.

It was hours before he decided that if death wasn’t going to be quick about it that there really was no use waiting around. Zoe’s body lay stiff beside him, and though he knew the likelihood was slim, the sick ones rarely did more than rot, he left her there just in case. If he were any less…himself, he would’ve labeled it a blind, potential hope that she would rise again. That if he were going to be stuck being alive (not that it wasn’t her bloody fault he was suddenly so aggravated by that!), that maybe she would be stuck with him. Would serve them right… the Van Helsing women, the biggest inconveniences he’d had in his whole un-life.

He couldn’t stay there…that boy knew where he was, and would no doubt send someone to look for him, or return himself. He considered, of course, waiting around, but honestly he didn’t even know if a stake to the heart was worth bothering to test at this rate. All of his other beliefs were useless… his fears. Why would he think just because it’s worked on some half-mad fledglings it would even work on him? Luckily he knew better than to keep his potentially useless dirt all in one place, at the least. Would he eventually regenerate without it? He didn’t know anymore. All his memories seemed to twist and deform. And with five centuries worth, that was an awful lot.

A chance he decided not to take. If he survived this, he would need to buy his lawyer new carpet. He would need to do a lot of things. Perhaps venture south of the equator.

------

It was fascinating how much the lack of needing to eat and sleep as often, nor attend five different doctors, affected her time management skills. Zoe felt like she never ran out of time, for research or reading or…well, that was it really. That was what she devoted her time to – not just for the sake of others now, but for her own future. So much so that not leaving the institute didn’t really seem like a confinement at all, even though that was precisely what it was.

As the days turned into a week, the other doctors – her friends, her colleagues, became even more unsettled by her presence. Not because she looked, or behaved like a walking corpse, but just the sheer lack of human ‘distractions’ she participated in. Also the constant shifting of vocal inflection didn’t seem to help.

Apparently Sister Agatha Van Helsing was not going anywhere. Either she wasn’t able to, didn’t want to, or had permanently infected her mind. She was beginning to get used to it. She had to wonder if Dracula himself ever had issues like this with anyone. Did Agatha hound him to? How much of his personality is his own and how much is taken from his victims? One had to assume it was the superstition of his victim pool that had tainted his own beliefs – that and the fact that even he refused to embrace the art of being a predator with limitless power.

She sincerely hoped that wherever he’d gone to, he’d kept that in mind. Something told her, however, that he wasn’t actually that far. It wasn’t a voice, or any particular deductive reasoning that gave her that knowledge. It was just something she knew, however unsettling that fact was.

“Zoe!”

She frowned, blinking out of her daze. Dr. Bloxham was blocking her from pacing back to the computer where she’d been unconsciously headed.

“Love, you have got to get out of here for a while. You haven’t slept longer than 3 hours a night since you’ve been here, you barely eat. You need to take a break.”

Zoe sighed, reluctantly relenting her attention.

“My body’s becoming intolerant to certain...things, I’m currently trying to find out what it isn’t intolerant to. And what it’s desperately lacking – iron, for starters. Does that help?”

“Great. We’ll figure out what it’s intolerant to at the pub, before you drive yourself batty… no pun intended.”

“I don’t drink,” she protested, but found herself shrugging out of her lab coat anyway.

“You stopped drinking because you were ill, which you no longer are,” the other woman protested, quite logically unfortunately, taking the coat from her. “Besides, there’s food there as well, which you desperately need, and sunlight would do you good. Have you even tried to eat anything but crisps and Chinese take away? Maybe you need something a little more tangible, that’s all.”

She sincerely doubted it, but anything – even tossing up her guts at a pub – was better than everyone looking at her like some sort of foreign contagion. She wasn’t a vampire. Not yet, and if she could help it, she never would be.

---

Edited to add tags for the people on this hellsite that have been keeping me from writing this by posting their own undead content that I’ve been consuming instead - be it fic or gifs or playlists or just thirsty shitposts. Ha, I have defied your attempts at distraction, but I honor you all the same: @my-fanfic-library @ohveda @imagineandimagine @wannabebloodsucker @hoefordarkness @mymagicsuitcase @crazytxgradstudent @itendedbadly @theplumsoldier @gatissed @allfandoms-writings @littlemessyjessi @punk-courtesan @vampiregirl1797

I’m sure I’ve forgotten many of you, but I legit just scrolled my last week worth of likes, and now I have to go to the dentist, then hope I’m not too whiny to finish my fanvid.

#bbc dracula #dracula bbc #dracula 2020 #dracula fic #agatha van helsing #zoe van helsing #claes bang #dracula #my writing #the undone & the divine

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writehardwhumpharder · 5 years

Text

Carson Drabble - since it's not whumpy enough I've decided to give Carson CRippLing ViSioNs

Carson walked into the bookshop ten minutes late, a little out of breath. He weaved through the shelves, passing a few customers on his way toward the back office. Muffled voices drifted out through the closed door, they sounded... tense. When he opened the door they were gathered around the old oak table.

"This is a police matter." Riley snapped, sounding as if she had said it several times already, leaning over the table toward Daniel.

"And this is my bookstore." Danny said with that casual stubbornness that drove people crazy. He had his arms crossed and feet propped up on the table as a display of how little he cared about their "procedure".

"Finally. It was getting awkward." Riley breathed as she looked up at him, dropping whatever arguement they'd just been having.

"No kidding." Daniel muttered.

Carson took a seat between them and reached for the stack of books Danny had set aside. They were researching what looked like ritual remains at a crime scene. Candles, blood, trace metals, the whole shabang. He hadn't done much ritual magic himself but he at least knew how it worked and what to look for. He looked up to see Danny staring at him.

"What was it this time?" He asked.

"Nothing, just didn't sleep well." Carson deflected.

Daniel just barely caught himself before he said that he knows what it sounds like when he "doesn't sleep well" and nothing happened last night. Which brings them to this morning. "Come on, I want to know, what was it? Stop me when I'm close, cat, bird, squirrel, raccoon-"

Carson groaned in frustration. "It was a baby possum okay? Ugh you suck, Danny." He said with an anger in his voice that wasn't quite genuine. His friend smiled smugly.

Riley had taken it upon herself to start skimming through one of the books in the pile. She noticed that Carson did look especially tired when he came in. Small beads of sweat formed on his brow which, unless he ran all the way to the bookstore, didn't make much sense in the growing cold outside. She figured it was best not to join in on Daniel's teasing and got straight to work.

Within seconds of opening the old leather-bound book, Carson got completely immersed in the text. It wasn't exactly an exciting read but he flipped through the pages quickly, only pausing to study certain diagrams. Riley noticed his lips moved slightly as he read over important parts. He probably didn't even realize he had the habit of mouthing the words as he read. It was kinda cute. But to be fair, his rapid page flipping and note taking was impressively methodical. She looked across the table to see that Daniel had been staring at Carson at the same time she was. They made awkward eye contact before returning to their research. Along with the books Daniel had a black notebook filled with handwritten notes that more or less matched the style of the old books they were looking at.

"Wow are those all your notes, Danny?" She asked, eyeing the notebook that was bulging with loose papers and crudely drawn symbols.

"Yeah, I write down everything that might be useful when I get new books in about magic. Some of it is just lore, but every once in a while I find a book that's actually legit. Oh, and it's Daniel." He said, despite the fact that Carson had called him Danny less than two minutes ago.

"So where are the books that you know are real?" She asked.

"Besides these? I imagine they're all on Carson's bookshelf at home."

"I already looked through those." Carson added, apparently more in tune with their conversation than they thought.

Daniel flipped through his notes until he came across a set of loose papers that looked related to the crime scene photo Riley provided. He grabbed the small stack and slid it over to Carson.

"I think I found something." Daniel said with a hopeful smile. Carson looked down at it and frowned.

"Um, Danny, this is your character description for Dungeons and Dragons." Carson said.

"Oops. Under that." He said. Maybe it was just Riley's imagination but it looked like Daniel blushed a little. As if it wasn't already obvious that he and Carson where total nerds. Not in a bad way but they did spend an awful lot of time holed up in this bookstore reading fantastic novels for "scientific purposes". Carson's eyes widened and his lips started doing that thing again like he was deep in concentration.

"Yeah, yeah this makes sense." Carson said after a moment. "Powering a circle is easy. It's directing the spell that's the hard part. So you found the body by the river, but the spell was set up in her apartment? They must have needed something there to make it work."

"Yeah." So far she had only shown him the photos from the apartment. The photos of the body were a lot more gruesome. "There's... more you need to know." She added.

Carson looked up, his brows furrowed. "I can't help if you're holding out on me. What else is there?"

Riley grimaced as she pulled another folder from her bag. "The photo of the girl in the center of the circle, see how her eyes are crossed out? And the dagger is standing straight up from the floorboards?"

"Yeah... you said she was dead. Obviously they meant to kill her using that knife." Carson said, a little confused. It seemed simple. They did the ritual, made a connection between the circle and the girl, and it's all stabby stabby from there.

Riley took out another set of crime scene photos from her folder and Carson immediately realized why she'd been hesitant to show it to them. His stomach flipped at the sight and he felt himself pale slightly. He's not squeamish but there is something distinctly wrong about seeing a person's face when they're missing their eyes. Without them it's just empty sockets. Empty...

When he looked at the photo his gaze naturally settled on the most gruesome part of it, the eyes. There was nothing there but he felt like she was... looking at him. A shiver went up his spine. He couldn't look away, not even to blink. Carson was dimly aware of someone saying his name but it was like the world narrowed until it was just him and the dead girl. It felt eerily like she was looking straight into his mind, or maybe he was looking into hers. It made his skin crawl. Suddenly the picture vanished and the room faded away.

He blinked and suddenly he was somewhere else. A walking path by the river. It was well lit but he couldn't imagine a young woman wanting to walk on it alone late at night. He felt troubled, no, she felt troubled. She looked over her shoulder every few seconds, clutching a small green purse to her chest as she walked briskly. Things started to blur and tilt as the connection got cloudier. He could feel his consciousness desperately trying to return to his body, but something kept him there. At the last second she turned, startled by something. But there was nothing there. She started running in a panic, stumbling off the path and onto the rocks, not because she was afraid, but because she couldn't see where she was going, he realized. She couldn't see because her eyes were being burned out of her head. A warmth grew from the center of her face, it burned right behind her eyes like a headache at first, the pain becoming more unbearable with each passing second. When the knife slid into her stomach it was almost merciful. She died before she could realize what was happening to her.

It happened fast. One second Carson was staring hard at the photo, perhaps looking for some small detail in it. The next his eyes were rolling back in his head. Eyelids fluttering shut as his body pitched forward. His head made contact with the table before he slid sideways out of his chair, knocking it over in the process. It all happened before Riley or Daniel could react. Luckily it was a gentle slide and he didn't hit his head too hard but now he was on the floor and--

"What the fuck?" Daniel blurted, abandoning his own chair to kneel next to Carson.

"Has he ever done anything like this before?" Riley asked with the dim hope that maybe this was some sort of totally normal magic thing she didn't know about. It wasn't

"No, never." Daniel's voice was grim. Panic welled up inside him but he fought it back down. He wouldn't be any use to Carson like that. "Hey Carson, can you hear me?" He asked pointlessly.

It was obvious his mind was somewhere else entirely as his body began to twitch. Random muscles flexing and unflexing. He started making small moaning noises that didn't sound like he was in pain but broke Daniel's heart a little to hear anyway. Without thinking he folded his sweatshirt and slid it under his head, moving to sit behind him so he could run his fingers through Carson's hair gently as his legs kicked and his hands moved spastically. Daniel and Riley had both gone silent so the only noise in the room was Carson's shuffling and ragged breathing. A small trickle of blood dripped from his nose and suddenly it was over. Carson's body relaxed into the floor and his breathing settled until it looked like he was just peacefully asleep.

Riley sat by his feet in complete shock, holding her hands up to her face, covering her mouth. Meanwhile Daniel started to try to wake him up gently. The whole thing couldn't have lasted longer than a minute but for Daniel it felt like forever.

"What just happened?" She whispered.

Daniel let one hand continue sifting through his hair and used the other to pat at his face which was pale and clammy under his hand. "Come on Carson, wake up. Open your eyes." He said.

Carson didn't immediately respond but he did make some feeble attempt to roll over onto his side. Daniel helped position him. The blood continued streaming from his nose until it threatened to stain the floor and Carson's shirt. There weren't any tissues around so he wiped Carson's face with his own sleeve. They took it as a good sign when he groaned and swatted the hand away weakly.

"Can you here me, Carson? It's Danny, I'm right here." He spoke softly, expecting Carson to be more than a little confused as he came to. When he finally cracked his eyes open the first thing he saw was books, then more books, and some shelves filled with books. It didn't take him long to figure out where he was.

Once Carson was awake Daniel stopped touching him and gave him some space, only helping when he wanted to sit up. Carson's head throbbed with the motion and he touched two fingers to his nose, frowning when they came away bloody.

"I'll go find some water." Riley said, trying to make herself useful. Carson caught her sleeve as she moved to stand.

"Wait... I... saw something." He said. "It doesn't tell us much more than we already know but, I did see that she died on the rocks, someone didn't move her there. And the spell was powerful I felt-" he stopped and shook his head as he remembered the pain and fear she felt. He raked his hands over his face and shuddered, as if checking that his own eyes were still there. He didn't dare look at the photos again to check, but one detail did stand out to him.

"What was in her purse?" He asked. The woman had been holding onto it pretty tight, maybe just out of fear, or maybe there was something important in there.

"We didn't find a purse with her body." Riley frowned, wondering why she hadn't thought of it before. Of course the young woman would have had some kind of bag with her. It wasn't much but it was something to look into.

"It was green." Carson muttered, staring off into what looked to be the Historical Asian literature section.

"Thanks Carson. I'll look into it. Let me know if you guys find anything out but there's no rush." She stood up and found that glass of water she was looking for then gathered her things and left Carson in Daniel's care.

Leaning against one of the tables legs, Carson signed, trying to make sense of what the hell was going on. He hoped this was a one time thing. A minor fluke on the universe's part. Magic was like that sometimes. But he couldn't help but feel obligated to solve this case now. He was already too involved to back out and even though Riley said there wasn't a rush, he knew that wasn't true. Two people already died in strange circumstances and if no other actually qualified magic users would step up to help, it was up to him.

"You okay?" Danny asked. Carson nodded slightly, careful not to aggravate his budding headache. "Let's get your face cleaned up then."

His nose had stopped bleeding but his face was still a mess of a combination of fresh, dried, and smeared blood. Carson didn't feel much like standing up but he took a few sips of water then braced a hand against the floor to push himself onto his knees. The floor wobbled under his feet but Danny was already helping him the rest of the way up.

He staggered to the staff bathroom at the back of the store and took a good look at himself. There were new dark circles under his eyes. He didn't know whether it was from using his healing skills that morning or the uh.. the other thing. The word "attack" came to mind, since that's exactly what it felt like.

"You should go home and rest." His friend said from the doorway. "I can leave the store for a bit and walk you home." He offered.

"No," Carson said, "we'll stay until we figure this out. Grab the books, we're taking this party to the couch." He said with newfound determination. The book store had a reading nook with a giant second hand couch, some beanbags, pillows, and a few decorative soft lit lamps. If he was going to lay down, which he definitely was, he might as well stay productive. Carson settled down in the corner, laying sideways to take up two out of the three cushions. Daniel returned with the large stack of books and set them down with a thud before settling into the other end of the couch. The spent the afternoon reading and taking notes in comfortable silence. Daniel didn't wake him up when Carson inevitably fell asleep with not one, but several books in his lap.

#drabble #OC drabble #whump #Carson Hall #Riley Miller #Daniel Hopkins #tired #weak #pain #headache #vision #collapse #convulsions #nosebleed #I'm really starting to ship Carson and Danny #How is he so oblivious #comfort #caring friend #painful visions are gonna be a regular thing now

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sapphicalexaandra · 6 years

Text

Impossibility Is a Kiss Away from Reality (7/?)

Pairing: Jace/Alec

Rating: E

Summary: It was just that…he couldn’t help but obsessively ponder the pros and cons of actually going to someone and explaining to them this brand-new kind of madness, all the while it sucked him in more and more each day, not only with his mind, but with his entire being…

Notes: Chapter 7 of Sense8 AU...this story will be so long oh my god.

What’s Going On?

Alec had to lean on the wall in front of him to not collapse under his own weight. He knew that he had let out a sound in the end, so he started coughing to mask it. That, however, only added to the strain that he was putting on his bruised body, so much so that, after getting his pants back on as slowly as he could, he went back to the bed creaking and wheezing like an old man.

It had been worth it. When he laid down, Alec could swear he still felt that mind-blowing orgasm. As he looked up at the ceiling, he was still shell-shocked.

He had tried to just fall asleep; to breathe normally and ignore the rising heat gripping his body, his groin, because he was not going to masturbate in a damn hospital. But when, after more than an hour of immobility and stubbornly closing his eyes in search of sleep, his erection hadn’t given any sign of wanting to cool the fuck down…he would’ve gone mad if he didn’t slip a hand under his waistband. The light strokes had felt like heaven at first, but Alec was sure that it wouldn’t have taken long before he lost himself and forgot where he was, so he quickly – as quickly as he could in his condition – went to the bathroom to not make a mess in the bed.

If anyone ever learned about what he had done he would die of embarrassment, but, in that moment, he couldn’t have cared less that he was half naked and fucking himself a thin wall away from the other patients. Nor could he care about the utter madness that was finding himself entirely naked in a shower, with no pain accompanying his pleasure…because that gave him the possibility to let himself go. And oh, did he go off in that shower; he didn’t think he had ever been so wild, so desperate in his movements, or in the sounds he made, not even when he had been with someone else. He had slipped in and out of that hallucination, putting everything that he couldn’t do in the hospital into what ironically turned out to be the best sex of his life. And he let out a shout that he could still hear even when he got back in his own body, spilling himself into the toilet while he saw only red on the back of his eyelids. Mind-blowing.

He had been back in bed for a just few minutes before the doctor came to check up on him. Alec hoped the flush on his face wasn’t that obvious. Once Pangborn went away again, however, Alec fell asleep almost immediately, truly exhausted, so that he didn’t even have the time to wonder about what the fuck had just happened.

He asked himself that quite enough the next day. Almost obsessively, one could say, so that he more than made up for it. As soon as he woke up, he waited for the results of his scan literally with his heart in his throat.

“Well, then, Officer Lightwood, you ready to go home?” Doctor Pangborn greeted him early in the morning.

Alec blinked. “Ehm…don’t I have to wait for my results?”

“I have them here already.” The doctor smiled as Alec looked at him wide-eyed. “Oh, it’s all alright, see?”

Pangborn was handed a folder by one of the nurses accompanying him, from which he took a few papers. He showed them to Alec and pointed at a few different places on his brain scan.

“Everything’s normal. And you don’t have a concussion, it seems, so nothing to worry about.”

Alec was still blinking, uncomprehending, weirdly irritated by the smile still not leaving the doctor’s face. “B-but…forgive me, doctor, but are you sure? Nothing weird at all?”

“One-hundred percent sure. After a few weeks of rest, you’ll be back to normal.” Pangborn stared at him pointedly. “Why, do you have doubts? Are you not feeling well, Officer?”

Alec stared right back, and a few long moments passed in total impasse. Alec, for some reason, was liking the doctor’s jovial expression less and less by the second…

But he shrugged the feeling off, as Pangborn was an old friend of his father’s. He had treated their family for years, so there was no reason at all to feel suspicious. It was just his paranoia over recent events…events that he’d have to investigate most likely at a psychiatrist’s, not here.

“Of course not,” Alec said lightly. “Thank you, doctor. I’ll gladly go home.”

Alec was surprised when he saw that it was his father picking him up outside. He placed his bag on the backseat before getting in the car.

“Hey, hi, dad,” Alec greeted, trying to mask his unease.

“Alec. Everyone was at work,” Robert said back. The explanation had been unprompted, so he had noticed it. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Alec said simply.

Silence fell as Robert started up the car.

Alec was still utterly puzzled by his father. Robert had never been a warm person, and Alec remembered a childhood when he was barely home. Then, he remembered him as the one who looked ashamed to have a gay son, when he had come out in high school. Robert had never actively said anything bad about it, but Alec knew. Otherwise, when his mother had finally divorced his father, he wouldn’t have lost contact with him for the following ten years.

Then, one day, Robert had simply come back into their lives and had asked to see his children weekly. Alec and Izzy had been adults already, but they had reluctantly agreed, for Max’s sake, and for their own, even though they hadn’t had much hope. But now, Robert seemed entirely genuine in his attempt at mending the past; he never missed their dinners, he asked about their lives and their aspirations, he was supportive of Izzy’s relationship, and had even told Alec that he was proud of him.

Still, if he was asked about his father’s reasons or what had made him change, Alec wouldn’t be able to give an answer.

He did appreciate it either way. Even if he didn’t quite know how to let his father in quite yet, after all this time, he was trying.

“Alec, if you take my wallet in the the glove box, I have something there for you,” Robert finally broke the silence.

“I don’t need money, dad…”

“No, it’s not that. Please.”

Alec was even more puzzled, but he reluctantly did as he was told.

“In one of the folders you’ll find a white business card,” Robert told him.

Alec found it and read it.

Dr. Tessa Gray, Psychologist.

Alec closed his eyes.

“Dad…” he started, a lump forming in his throat. He didn’t know if he felt touched or embarrassed. Probably the latter. He surely didn’t want his father to think that he was incapable of doing his job now, or that he was weak…

“Listen to me, son.” Robert cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on the road. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, and I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Doctor Gray. She gave me the incentive that I needed, to finally realize what the important things in my life are. My children. Hope, and seeing the, the good in the world…”

Alec was holding his breath. He had never heard him talk so openly, especially not about his family.

“This is just a suggestion, okay?” Robert went on, glancing at him. “What happened yesterday is none of my business, but it is your business, and I don’t want to see you in a hospital again, since you might not be as lucky next time. You promise me that you’ll give it some thought? I bet they’ll have you do a psychic evaluation anyway, so at least I’ll know that you’re in good hands.”

Alec nodded mutely, and he had to swallow down a bigger lump, before he could speak again, “Yeah, dad. Thank you…really.”

He might have an answer now, after all.

“You need help bringing your things up?” his father asked him, once he parked by Alec’s apartment building.

“No, I’ve got it,” Alec said, smiling as he hugged his father. He groaned as his ribs gave a sign of protest.

“Sorry,” his father apologized, quickly breaking apart, but Alec shook his head, still smiling.

“See you, dad.”

“See you…get well.”

Alec did feel a bit lighter after that, but it still didn’t stop him, as soon as he entered his apartment, from letting out a big sigh. And that only because he couldn’t very well scream.

He’d go to that doctor, yes; he had to. And, hopefully, she’d be able to tell him if he was going crazy.

In the meanwhile, he wanted to sleep for ten thousand years.

He went to the bathroom first…and he wasn’t even that surprised when, after splashing his face with cold water, the reflection he saw in the mirror wasn’t his. Alec’s eyes widened, as him and the vision, Jace, stared at each other. And Alec’s mouth wordlessly moved, as if he wanted to say to his own hallucination that the fact that he hadn’t disliked their…dance, and that he had been about to kiss him, didn’t mean anything. Because, apparently, that was the state he was in; even knowing that this wasn’t real, his face still became flushed as he struggled to justify his attraction as if to an actual crush.

He was saved by the trill of his phone, and he looked down at it sitting on the sink. When he raised his eyes back to the mirror and saw only himself, however, Alec had to call himself stupid as he felt a pang of disappointment.

“Hey, Iz,” he answered, clicking on loudspeaker.

“Big bro! How are you feeling? I’m so sorry I couldn’t come to pick you up earlier, but I’m buried in work. Literally. My hands are in a body right now.”

“Gross. TMI.”

“I’m doing the autopsies of the victims of yesterday.”

Alec’s heart sank. “Oh. Yeah. I didn’t…how many?”

“Twenty.”

Alec sighed. “I should be at work too right now, instead of…”

“Hey, I don’t want to hear it. You need to take care of yourself first, okay? What are your plans?”

Alec knew what she meant. “Sleep…then, dad gave me his therapist’s number.”

Izzy paused. “Dad?” There was as much surprise in her voice as he had felt. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to go?”

Alec bit his lower lip. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good.”

“I think I’ll really go sleep, now, though.”

“Yeah, go do that. I’ll come by when I can.”

“You don’t have-”

“Of course I will, I don’t want you to face all this alone. You hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Are you sure you’ll be fine in the meantime? Don’t say yes if it’s not real, I-”

“Iz, I’m fine, really. It was just one incident, I haven’t suddenly lost all ability to take care of myself. I’m an adult. I won’t fall into depression if I’m alone for a bit, okay?”

Izzy paused, and Alec heard a sigh. “Love you, Alec.”

“Love you, too.”

“I’ll still come by.”

“Okay. You’ll have to bring food, though.”

“Deal.”

“Bye, Iz.”

“Bye.”

Alec ended the call. He looked back at the mirror. His face was still partly swollen. No blond guy. No Jace.

He sighed.

Despite his good intentions, two weeks would end up passing before he could talk himself into calling that psychologist. All through it, he knew that he needed to go, and desperately. It was just that…he couldn’t help but obsessively ponder the pros and cons of actually going to someone and explaining to them this brand-new kind of madness, all the while it sucked him in more and more each day, not only with his mind, but with his entire being…

As it stayed, two days earlier he had been a normal guy; now, one hour couldn’t pass without Alec catching a glimpse of him.

Jace taking a nap in the bed next to him; Alec turned on his side, his eyes opening, and he jumped, a spark of pain hitting his chest, upon seeing that beautiful sleeping face right in front of his nose, looking so peaceful in slumber. Jace’s breath hit him softly like a faraway breeze, and Alec’s heart started beating furiously, a hand rising to brush some hair away from Jace’s forehead before he could stop himself. When Jace disappeared a second later, Alec could’ve kicked himself, as his fingers tingled for far longer than that.

Jace walking on a busy street; Alec was in the kitchen, about to make himself lunch, and the next moment he was by Jace’s side. The loud sounds split his head in half, as he walked barefooted without feeling any pain, no cold, no hard ground. He looked up at the buildings around them, and he couldn’t help but be a little in awe… When he lowered his gaze again, Jace was staring at him with those peculiar eyes of his, and Alec forgot everything that he wanted to say, as his heart missed a beat. Then, he had to curse the smell of a burned burger that brought him back home…only because Jace had caused him to ruin his food, no other reason.

And the music…he heard it constantly. As he sat on his bed resting against a mountain of pillows, ice-pack placed on his swollen torso, and he went through his e-mails and get-well messages from colleagues, friends and family members (refraining himself from watching the news, if he didn’t only want to start biting his nails in frustration…), he found himself singing under his breath. He had never even heard that song .

“Twenty-five years, and my life is still…”

He was sitting behind the counter of a shop - a music shop, by the looks of it. Of course. And the song was playing at the radio. As Alec kept singing it, the voice coming out of him wasn’t his…

Then, Alec was sitting on the counter, watching Jace twirl his pen and sing. “I realized quickly when I knew I should…” Jace looked up at him, and there was a glint in his eyes that the smile playing on his lips only brightened. “And so I cry sometimes when I'm lying in bed just to get it all out…”

They were in Alec’s bed, Jace sitting right next to him, still singing, still with that stupid smile on his face.

“And so I wake in the morning and I step outside…c’mon, Alec, sing with me!”

Alec jumped, starting to draw away until he was at the edge of the bed. “What? No!”

“And I scream from the top of my lungs, what's going on?!” Jace stood up on the bed, and he looked down at Alec, his smile positively blindingnow. “Isn’t that just fitting?” he laughed, his arms stretched towards Alec, inviting him. “And I say, hey yeah yeah, hey yeah yeah…”

“I said hey, what's going on?” Alec flinched, but the words had already come out of his mouth.

Jace only laughed louder (how could even that sound be musical?). And what was the point of fighting it any longer? Alec had already let Jace take his hands, and he slowly managed to get himself upright with Jace’s help.

That was how he found himself singing badly, crazily, with the man in his head.

“And I say, hey yeah yeah, hey yeah yeah, I said hey, what's going on?”

“Jace? I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we have customers?” a shouted whisper reached them, and Jace, stunned, looked up at Alec, their faces exhilaratingly a few inches apart, before he disappeared.

Alec would’ve thrown himself back on the bed, but he had to resort to getting down carefully. His groan of frustration was telling anyway.

So how could he just go and let this out into the world? He’d be locked up the next day.

Even if that might’ve been a bit extreme, Alec still had his reservations; because, if he was entirely honest with himself, a part of him also didn’t want to deal with it…quite yet.

It was just so, so, so damn…fun? Maddening in more ways than one. The frustration and the fear only one side of a coin, only the opposite to a thrill and excitement that he had never felt, except for every new time he saw Jace.

If he got rid of it…Alec truly feared that reality would start paling in comparison to that never-ending dream. So, with all the knowledge of how bad procrastinating the inevitable would be for him in the end, he slipped and fell right into it, unable, unwilling, to tune it out.

When Izzy and Lydia came over for dinner and to watch a movie, Alec plastered a big smile on his face the entire evening, just as Jace appeared intermittently through all of it.

“Ah! I love Harry Potter!” Jace exclaimed, landing next to him and staring at the screen.

Alec had to stuff pop-corn into his mouth to not respond to him.

“I’m going to bed before either of you come up with another clever idea to get us killed, or worse, expelled,” Jace recited Hermione’s line in the most high-pitched tone and the goofiest smile. “Such a great line.”

Alec rolled his eyes.

“Alec?”

Alec turned around, only to find both girls looking at him weirdly. “What?”

“You…” Lydia raised an eyebrow. “You just did a perfect British accent, like…perfect. When the hell did you learn that and how? You can’t hold back on me like this!”

“Truly, that was awesome!” Izzy echoed.

Alec’s mouth fell open, and he couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Jace, who was listening, surprised just as well. “I - I’m a field agent, I know many languages, thank you very much!”

“You’re a terrible liar, how come you’re a cop?” Jace told him bemusedly.

“I know that,” Lydia pressed on, frowning, “but accents are always the worst thing? And you never did it so well?”

Alec huffed, almost feeling like swatting Jace away like a fly, as his leg kept bouncing up and down. “Well, it just happened. Can we go back to the movie?”

Izzy and Lydia shrugged and turned their heads away from him, snuggling closer under their blanket.

“A perfect accent just happened to you just as I’m a troll dancing in a tutu,” Jace whispered in his ear.

Alec snorted so bad that he choked on a popcorn.

“What, now, big bro? Didn’t you say to go back to the movie?” Izzy reprimanded him.

Alec was still coughing, stings of pain riddling his chest. “Sorry.”

Jace would truly be the death of him. The next day he would call that psychologist, he promised himself.

He went back to bed, after the girls left without any more incidents, and he fell asleep hoping that this bad dream would end when he woke up in the morning. Only half hoping, really…

He was woken up, instead, by the ear-splitting sound of an electric guitar. Alec opened his eyes with a gasp, his hands flying to cover his ears, but the sound didn’t stop at all. It only kept going and going, as Alec struggled to turn his phone’s light on…only to see that it was five in the bloody morning.

“Can’t you stop?! Must you practice at this hour?!” Alec yelled as soon as he saw Jace, who was tuning his guitar in what looked like a garage.

Jace raised his eyes. “It’s ten.”

“No, it’s not! I’m trying to sleep here, are you not done annoying me, like last night at my apartment?”

“What? You wanted me to miss the movie? That’s just rude. And you’re the one annoying me right now, this is my job.”

Alec huffed. He called that noise a job?

Two people entered the room; Alec had already briefly seen them, when Jace had been on stage. One was the guy with glasses at the piano who had sang with him, and the other was the guitarist.

“Hey, Simon, Maureen.” Jace waved at them, before handing the guitar to who must be Maureen.

“Bro, I’m surprised that you called a rehearsal on a Sunday morning?” the one who should then be Simon said, rubbing his eyes.

“Art never sleeps,” Jace shot back.

“You sleep plenty, if you ask me, I see you during the shifts at the shop!”

“We stay up late!”

“Guys, c’mon,” Maureen reprimanded them.

Alec was fuming during that entire exchange. He crossed his arms, letting out a sound that he hoped Jace heard, before he went back to his bed. Jace, however, just had to be Jace, and he appeared in his room a moment later.

“Hey, I’m sorry, you know it’s not my fault,” Jace said.

Alec turned off the light, closing his eyes.

“Hey, c’mon. Don’t you think we should…talk? About all of this?”

“There is nothing to talk about. You just need to get out of my head, smoke man.”

“Stop calling me that. And I don’t know how to do that, that’s why we should talk.”

Alec turned on the light again. “Right, have a conversation with the voice in my head. How very sane of me.”

“Are you still on about that?” Jace crossed his arms, his eyes darting around the room. “Do you still think this isn’t real?”

Alec’s entire face frowned. “What do you mean, am I still on about that? It’s been two days. I was perfectly normal before, and now I’ve gone crazy hallucinating you. Yes, this isn’t real.”

Jace didn’t say anything for a long while, and they just kept on staring at each other. The silence was deafening, a heartbeat the only thing to be heard. For a moment, Alec wondered whose that was.

“Whatever, I need to get back,” Jace finally said, averting his eyes.

Alec groaned. “Can you turn off the volume, at least?” Because that didn’t sound even more crazy at all.

“I’m not a tv!”

Alec groaned again, bringing an arm to cover his face. He just wanted to sleep. “Don’t you ever get tired? Of music? You’re surrounded by it every hour of the day!”

Jace opened his mouth, and Alec had to wonder why the hell he was still talking to him. Why was he even keeping him there? But every question vanished as soon as Jace started talking again, “No. I don’t get tired of music, that’s…”

“How did you get into it?” Alec asked, genuinely curious. (Wait, what the fuck?)

Jace shrugged. “I needed an outlet besides punching things when I was a teen.”

“Punching things?”

“I’m a black belt in Krav Maga.”

Alec paused. “Oh. Me, too.”

Jace grinned. “Of course you are, Officer.” Then he turned serious again. “But yeah, I mean, it started like that, but then I fell in love with it. And music is just one of those things that you don’t ever fall out of love with, you know? You only ever…fall more and more for it every day, if you know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Alec answered before he could think about it. That had come out more like a sigh…and Alec had to clear his throat, shrugging himself off from just staring at Jace’s mouth as it moved.

“You have something like that?” Jace asked him softly, oblivious to Alec’s sudden discomfort.

Alec stayed quiet for a long moment, before he came to a decision. He threw off the covers from over himself, and he struggled to get up.

“Hey, careful…” Jace said, his arms outstretched towards him, suddenly far closer to Alec that he had been.

Alec swatted him away. “Follow me.” (As if he needed to say it.)

Alec put on a hoodie, grabbed his apartment keys, and went out the door and to the elevator.

“Where the hell are you going? It’s late, and you’re in your pyjamas…”

Alec didn’t respond, he simply pressed the button to the top floor.

Jace stayed wordlessly by his side until they reached the rooftop, and then Alec’s telescope, where Alec removed the sheet covering it.

“You know what, I will thank you for reminding me that I haven’t been up here in far too long.” Alec traced the length of his telescope with nimble fingers, and the chills he got weren’t just from the cold night air. “I don’t know if it can compare, but it was always something I loved to do.”

“Watching the stars?” Jace said.

Alec looked back at him, a smirk playing on his lips. “Surprised? Am I too cranky for such a calm hobby?”

“No, actually.” Jace smiled. “It fits you quite right.”

Alec caught himself studying Jace’s face once more. He averted his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be at your rehearsal?”

“I am. Somehow, I’m doing both things.”

Alec shook his head. Right. He needed to stop asking him questions as if he was a real person. He brought his eye to the lens.

“Show me something,” Jace demanded, his voice almost lost in the sudden wind.

Alec sighed. “Here, if you see that group on the right…”

Jace leaned closer, and Alec felt his breath grazing against his skin. More chills that weren’t caused by the cold.

What was going on, indeed?

#shadowhunters #jalec #jalec fic #my fic #my writing #sense8 au #impossibility is a kiss away from reality

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