#anyway............... just in case you were wondering i am still and always will be really unnormal about him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nereidprinc3ss · 5 months

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omg i'm obsessed with the idea of spencer and a university student and i looooved the one you wrote with reader struggling with finals (i relate so much </3) i'm not sure if you write requests or not (if not, then i'm sorry and please ignore this hahaha) but i would love to see more of their dynamic? maybe spencer for once arrives earlier from a case and goes to pick up reader from university as a surprise? i don't really know but i would love to see more 💗 thank you and i hope you have a good day!

AHHHH omg you have NO IDEA how excited I was to open my inbox and see a request!! i am absolutely obsessed w spencer x uni student too

i kind of took this and ran w it so its a little angsty and random LOLOL but here is (drumroll)

spencer picking up reader after you fail an exam (sorry lol) and you are NOT in a good mood but he loves you so its fine

Tears, partly from the bitter wind and partly from shame, blur your phone screen as you exit the lecture hall. Another missed call from Spencer. It’s the third one today—you've been ignoring them in an attempt to remain focused on the final that you just bombed. Part of you now wants to keep ignoring them out of sheer embarrassment. How can you admit to your super-genius boyfriend that you are a bona fide academic failure? Still, you don’t want him wondering about you while he should be working. Your numb fingers fumble with the phone as you try to call him back without running into anybody on your walk back to student housing.

It doesn’t reach the second ring before he’s picking up.

“Hey,” he sighs. “I was starting to worry.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy,” you exhale, cutting through some trees as you approach your building. “What’s up? How’s the case?”

“Well... that’s actually what I’ve been calling about. We wrapped up this morning.”

“What? But last night you said it would be at least three more days.”

“Rare instance of me being wrong, I guess.”

“So when are you flying back?” you ask, not wanting to get your hopes up. You know sometimes his team stays behind to help with processing a case. He doesn’t reply for a moment. “Spencer?”

“I’m... thirteen minutes away from your school. Twelve.”

Your brain short-circuits as you process his words, the cold metal of the door handle biting into your fingers as you stop dead in your tracks.

“You--are you driving here right now?”

“Yes,” he begins, sounding embarrassed, “I kept calling because I wanted to ask first, but I know you had your last final this morning and you were going to come over when I got back anyway so I thought you might want to come stay with me for a few extra days. You can say no, obviously—”

Some of the icy despair melts in your chest.

“Of course, I want to.”

“Good,” he exhales a laugh. “It would have been awkward if you said no. Can you have a bag packed by the time I get there?”

You’re speedwalking through the lobby now, hitting the up button for the elevator more times than is necessarily effective.

“Drive faster.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

By the time you blindly shove enough clothing in a bag, text your roommate to let her know you’ll be gone for the rest of the week, and make it back outside, Spencer’s familiar vintage car is already pulling up to the curb. He doesn’t even bother cutting the engine—just puts it in park and gets out, rounding the vehicle as you close the distance between one another. His smile is brilliant, and though you don’t feel particularly deserving of it, it’s for you.

“Hi,” you breathe shakily as he loops his arms around your waist.

“Hi, pretty,” he says, already leaning down to kiss you. It’s soft and sweet over too quickly, but then he’s gently pulling you into him. You drop your bag and bury your face in his jacket, trying to right yourself before you go into an emotional tailspin.

As usual, he smells like lavender, clove, resinous amber. It makes your head spin. Right away you feel yourself relaxing; feel your guard slipping, like it always does when he’s around.

“I missed you.” The words are quiet to begin with, muffled further by the fabric of his coat, but you know he’ll hear you.

“I missed you too,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “Everything okay?”

Why are you always surprised when a man who works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI accurately analyzes your behavior?

“Just tired. Can we go home?” You pull back enough to look up at him, meeting his fond—and just a little concerned—gaze, averting your eyes before he has time to discern your... omission of truth.

“Yeah, angel. Of course we can.”

He opens the passenger side door for you, making sure you’re settled before tossing your bag in the back seat and circling around the back of the car.

“Is that coffee?” You say as soon as he slides into the driver’s seat. His eyes dart down to the tumbler in the center cupholder as he buckles.

“It’s from the jet. You won’t like it.”

Despite his warning you reach over to grab it, taking a small sip as he puts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot. You make a sour face. Spencer glances over.

“I told you it was bad.”

You yawn, putting it back in the cupholder. “It was worth a shot.”

Jazz music plays quietly from the speakers and the heat is blasting, but you’re too busy mentally rehashing question 37 to find it relaxing.

“You didn’t get enough sleep last night,” he states. Not a question. Outside, the brick buildings of your campus roll by. You wonder if all the students rushing about on the sidewalks and side streets failed any of their finals.

“Couldn’t,” you mumble flatly, picking at your nails.

There’s a moment’s pause, and you’re imagining all the things you could have done differently. You’ve never failed a final before. If you’d just studied a little bit harder—if you’d stayed in instead of going out last weekend, if you weren’t so—

“I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Spencer says.

“Mhm,” you hum, too afraid to speak because your eyes are already stinging again. Honestly, you’re surprised you made it this far without him getting the truth out of you. He offers his hand across the console as you slink down in your seat, and you take it, allowing him to run his thumb over yours in soothing lines.

“How do you think your final went?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, the bare branches of the trees outside blurring as you stare unseeingly.

“Not good. Like, I definitely failed, not good. I'm an idiot.”

“You absolutely are not an idiot.”

“You didn’t see me taking the test, Spencer. I literally just sat there staring at it for ten minutes before I even answered one question. It was pathetic.”

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

The question takes you by surprise. Your frown deepens.

“What? I don’t—that’s not—"

“Just answer the question. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Yes!”

“Don't lie to me.”

“Fuck you! I slept for like two hours and had coffee this morning!”

He squeezes your hand.

“That’s why you failed.”

The first tear traces its path down your cheek, composure overwhelmed by the confrontation.

“I hate when you use your stupid interrogation tactics on me,” you say, voice wobbling. And then the crying begins in earnest.

“I know, baby.”

His hand moves to rub your back when you let go to cover your face. Torrential evidence of your frustration and utter exhaustion well over, slipping through your fingers despite your best efforts to stop them from coming at all. Having an emotional breakdown in the passenger seat of his car is far from how you’d wanted to greet Spencer’s surprise arrival, but you’re too worn out to mask your emotions—especially when he is so adept at drawing them to the surface.

A moment passes like that before you take a shuddering breath, raising your head slightly and wiping your cheeks with your sleeves in vain.

“I should have been able to do it. I just—it was like I was reading the questions and I knew that I should know the answers, but I couldn’t remember anything.”

“You’re exhausted. Sleep deprivation has an immediate, devastating effect on cognitive functioning levels. My recall and processing speed start to fail when I’m tired, too. It has nothing to do with how smart you are.”

It makes sense—but it doesn’t make you feel much better. You wanted to ace this exam. Of course, Spencer wouldn’t understand because school was as easy as breathing for him. He barely had to try to get three doctorates. It’s possible, you suppose, that dating a genius has put an academic chip on your shoulder—maybe you’ve set impossibly high standards for yourself.

After a few minutes the crying finally ebbs, if only because you’re running into supply and demand problems with your tear ducts. You rub your weepy eyes on your shoulder, leaning against the cold window and watching DC go by.

“You know, the final isn’t as important as you think it is. You’ll still pass the class.”

“It’s symbolic,” you mumble, breath fogging up the glass. Spencer hums, still rubbing your back.

“I know. I know it matters to you, but I don’t want you to think one bad grade is a reflection of who you are. Do you understand why it doesn’t make sense to measure something as abstract as intelligence by a metric as one dimensional as a standardized test?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

You shift in your seat, wiping your face with your sleeve and prompting Spencer to take your other hand once more.

“Can your FBI friend hack the university database and give me an A?” you ask after a moment, sniffling.

“Absolutely not.”

“Pretty please?”

“Nope.”

“It’s like you don’t even love me,” you mutter, angling yourself away from him.

He pulls your hand toward him and presses a kiss to the back of it.

“I love you so much that I don’t want you to get expelled for academic dishonesty.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll probably just drop out.”

You both know you’re just being overdramatic, but Spencer has a tendency to be sweet even when you don’t deserve it.

“I’ll love you no matter what you do.”

You blush, unable to come up with a sufficient reply. His eyes slide to you briefly and he smirks, clearly enjoying his ability to fluster you, and by extension, get you to shut up.

“Eyes on the road, genius,” you grumble. But for the first time today you’re fighting a smile instead of tears.

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #criminal minds

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lovebugism · 7 months

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Spoooooky request, what if the gang went to a haunted house and everyone made fun of reader for being scared, but Steve holds her hand and walks with her 👻

thanks for requesting angel! i switched it up a bit and did a sort of second part to this fic! you def don't have to read it but it'll give some context :D — you're still getting used to the world post-vecna, but it's easier with steve holding your hand

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

The haunted house off Fifth Street looks strangely familiar. Two stories, faded cornflower paint job, boarded up windows. It looks like a dollhouse from hell. It looks like the goddamn Creel House. It’s like some kind of sick joke.

It didn’t take Hawkins very long to recover from last spring. Mostly because it was just an earthquake to everyone else. No one died, nothing was ruined beyond repair. To the rest of the town, it was just a minor natural disaster — an inconvenience more than anything.

No one knows that a thirteen-year-old girl killed the monster trying to end the world. No one knows that the local freak nearly died saving a bunch of teenagers. No one knows that one song, one heavy metal guitar, and one good memory just narrowly saved your life.

It’s secrets all of you are gonna have to keep for the rest of your lives. It weighs you down accordingly.

“Am I crazy, or is that…?” Robin trails off, freckled chin tilted towards the velvet blue sky as she gapes at the artificially rotted house. It glows a sickly green color on the outside. The windows light up red every now and then, in time with the screams echoing from the upper story.

“Yeah,” Nancy answers, breathless and equally dumbfounded. “I think it is.”

A beat of silence falls over the group of you. It doesn’t feel so heavy with the surrounding chatter. The crowd continues to bustle around you on the street, falling over themselves with laughter and lingering fright. They have no idea the ghost story they grew up with nearly destroyed the world.

The bitter realization makes your chest ache. Steve seemingly understands this and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. You wonder if he can feel the way you tremble.

Eddie scoffs a cynical laugh from the other side of you. A pink, sadistic grin tugs at his lips, almost as wild as his curls billowing in the autumn breeze. “It’s basically kismet then, huh?”

Steve shoots the boy a half-hearted glare, then deflates because he realizes he can’t really be mad about it. Those damn demobats might’ve taken a pound of flesh from his stomach, but it’s nowhere near the feast they made out of Munson.

“C’mon on, dude,” he murmurs quietly with a subtle nod down at you.

“What?” Eddie snorts. “If I don’t laugh bout it, I’ll start crying, so… Take your pick, man.”

Steve wants to tell him that there’s no shame in crying. That he’s done it plenty of times since the fall of ’84. He’s cried for you, for himself, for the kids who will never get to be kids again. He figures it’s better than letting it all build up until you damn near explode.

But now’s probably not the best time for that talk. Or any time, really. He’ll get you to get all serious and sappy with Eddie about that another time, just like you did for him.

“I’m gonna, uh— I’m gonna go get the tickets,” Jonathan murmurs with his usual Byers mumblings.

He wasn’t around for the whole Vecna ordeal — just the weird shit in California and the secret lair thing in Nevada. He feels like he can be a bit braver about the whole thing for the four of you.

Nancy brushes a kiss to the boy’s cheek before he leaves. She does that a lot now, with Jonathan and all the rest of you. She always feels like she needs to say a proper goodbye and I love you whenever someone leaves. Just in case the world decides to end again.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Steve mutters to you, gaze twinkling with sincerity but stern still. “You know that, right?”

He knows that you know, but he feels the need to say it anyway. Mostly because he knows you were already scared of most things before everything went to shit. You’ve always been delicate, tender, like an open wound. Now, you can’t step outside without shaking. You’re always shuddering with the distant fear that the curse might return and no one will be there to save you.

Steve knows this, too. That’s why he holds so ardently to your trembling hand. It’s a silent reminder that he’s there, that he won’t let anything happen to you again, that he’ll always be around to save you when you need him.

“Oh, my god,” Robin groans, eyes wide and head tilted back. “Leave her alone, Steve! She’s fine!”

You know she’s just trying to be supportive. She thinks Steve’s coddling you because you’re quiet — that he’s sticking up for you because he thinks you can’t stick up for yourself.

He is. And you can’t. But still, she’s only trying to help.

Steve looks to his left to glare at her. They seem to communicate telepathically for a moment. His eyes soften again when he turns back to you. His deep cinnamon gaze swims with a honeyed concern, a silent “Are you fine?”

You nod. “I’m okay,” you tell him, mustering a soft smile that wavers at the edges.

He doesn’t believe you, not completely, but he doesn’t press it any further.

Jonathan returns with the ticket stubs. They’re black and blood red. You take the one he gives you with hesitant, clammy hands. He seems to notice how terrified you are without you having to say a single goddamn word.

“I’m not a huge fan of these things either,” he confesses with a thin-lipped smile. A light-hearted way of telling you that you’re not alone in the fear you keep hidden (very poorly hidden, you figure).

You smile back at him, but it doesn’t quite meet your eyes.

Your fingers fidget with the paper stub — maybe a distraction for yourself or maybe to hide how you’re too anxious to stay still. Steve figures it’s a bit of both. ‘Cause he knows you too well and not a thing gets by him. There’s nothing about you that he doesn’t notice.

He turns to face you completely while everyone else gets their ticket. He keeps his wedged between his middle and forefinger as his hands curl around the outsides of your elbows. He’s serious, but still soft — gentle, but still firm.

“Babe—”

“Stevie,” you interject with a similar tone. “I’m okay.”

“You heard her, Stevie. She’s fine!” Robin retorts, curling her maroon-tinted lips into a smirk. She scoffs out a laugh and gestures up to the fake haunt across the street. “This shit is basically for kids. No one’s dying here, alright?”

You know what she’s doing. She’s sticking up for you and taking the piss out of her best friend at the same time. It’s nothing new — hell, it’s her favorite hobby. She’s got your back now the same way she had it in that house last spring.

But still, her words sting a little.

Because she’s right. This place is for kids. And you still feel a bit like you’re dying.

Steve knows this, too. He knows everything about you. Even the stuff you wish he didn’t.

His sneakers scuff against the pavement when he turns to Robin. His eyes narrow in a challenging squint as he crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn’t look quite as intimidating as usual in his fluffy, cable-knit sweater.

“Well, you know what? I’m scared, actually. I don’t wanna do it, okay? You got me, Rob.”

The girl grins something cynical. She shakes her head all slow, like she’s just caught him in some kind of lie. “I knew it. You little baby.”

Steve lets her tease him. It’s not like he isn’t used to it by now. He just rolls his eyes and bears it, lets her laugh about it with the rest of the group as they head towards the haunted house.

You watch with an attentive gaze while they head inside, flinching softly when you hear a thunderous boom and the sound of their screaming a second later. It leaves you secretly grateful that you hadn’t gone in behind them.

A wavering sigh tumbles from your lips, a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Steve exhales a gentle laugh from beside you. He smooths a wide palm up your spine and down again. He leans over to press the side of his hip against yours.

You cross your arms over your chest to make yourself as small as possible while you glance over at the boy beside you. You look at him so far beneath your lashes you’re basically peering at him from the corner of your eye.

“Thank you,” is all you say. It’s all you need to say.

Steve shrugs with a plush, crooked grin. “’S okay. I know you’re too sweet to say no, so…”

“I wanted to do it,” you confess, clearing your throat when your voice breaks.

“I know.”

“I guess I’m not… as used to everything as I thought.”

“I know,” Steve repeats. His hand curls around your waist and makes a home in the very center of it. He pulls you closer with the urge to melt into you. His brows raise, eyes sparkling when his smile widens. “But that’s why I’m here, though, right? We’re gonna get better together.”

You nod up at him, smiling more sincerely now.

Arms still crossed, your hands ball into fists to fight the urge to smooth a hand through his hair — to push back the rogue chestnut strands hanging over his forehead.

You hesitate, so he beats you to the draw. He swipes a golden hand over his head right before he leans down to kiss you.

He smacks a sweet peck to your smile. A bright light flashes with another thunderous boom a moment later. You flinch and pull back. You swear you hear Eddie screaming, “jesus fucking christ!” from the upper story. You forget to be scared.

You didn’t think it was possible. The whole getting better thing.

Steve makes you feel like could be.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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theaceace · 5 months

Text

When Burgess summoned Dream, instead of Dream being completely cut off from the Dreaming, instead the magic pulled all of Fawney Rig into the soft places at the edge of the Dreaming, so like Dream still can't get out of the circle and his subjects can't get in but the Dreaming suffers much less and crucially, he still has access to some tiny fraction of his power

So now the whole house and everyone in it is sort of tied to the Dreaming and there's just oodles of magic coming off it, and the house in the Waking and the house in the Dreaming exist sort of superimposed over each other. Like you can be in one and sort of be aware of the other but you can't really flip between the two

And I want the whole thing to operate on a sort of combo between Aladdin in the cave of wonders/Orpheus leaving with Eurydice rules where it's said that if you enter the house in the Dreaming side and manage to find the Dream king, he'll grant you the thing you've been dreaming of, but the catch is you have to believe you have it. You have to leave the house without checking. So Burgess asks for Randall, but he turns to look almost before they're out of the basement because if he were Dream then he would pull a trick (TBF it wasn't actually Randall, just a dream of him, but Burgess couldn't tell the difference anyway because he was a terrible father and you can't change my mind). After that, he never managed to find the basement again. Never even manages to find the dream house again, only the waking one, although he goes mad looking for it

But like. Someone else asks for riches and the Dream king says they can be found the guy's pocket or whatever, but he can't feel anything? There's no weight there, no shape, his pocket seems empty (it isn't when he checks, but as soon as he gets out of the house, yelling about his triumph, it's gone and the house is mundane again)

Alex, who doesn't ask for anything until after the death of his father (and after he murdered Jessamy) asks for peace. For safety. The Dream king says nothing, and Alex lives the rest of his life in the Dreaming version of the house, too scared to step outside in case whatever peace he's found in his personal prison vanishes

Ethel never makes it to the house in the Dreaming . She takes what she wants from the waking, and when she leaves she doesn't look back once

Time passes, and more and more people find their way to Fawney Rig, but as Dream himself said, the great stories always return to their original forms, so no one succeeds because that's how it goes

And then. And then Hob. Hob who finds his way to the house just looking for an answer. Looking for something he can do to make sure his Stranger is there in 2089, because otherwise he might lose his mind with the what-ifs. So he finds the house, and he meets Alex, who hasn't set foot outside the front door in over 80 years except it's a little hard to feel sorry for him when Hob realises why. He meets Paul, who lives solidly in the waking, and hasn't been able to convince Alex that it would be worth it to leave with him. He finds his way down to the basement, finally, and there he finds his Stranger

And at first he thinks? It's a trick? Because isn't that sort of what this place does, it tricks you? But he speaks to Dream, and he gets the rest of the story from him, and the only thing Hob wants to take from this place is Dream. And he's like I want to get you out of here, but I can't because you're trapped in that circle (which for reasons unknown to the author right now but probably has something to do with the nature of dreams and stories can't just be broken like a regular spell circle) and I can't do anything about it and Dream is all you know the story, Hob Gadling. It is a more powerful magic than the binding. Leave, and don't look back, and trust that I am following

(Dream knows the story. He's sure he knows how it ends. But he also knows that it has to be played out, that he has to give Hob this chance - he finds himself, as he follows, weeping silently for his son and Eurydice)

So then there would be the agonising climb and return through the maze of the house where Hob almost looks back a bunch of times, and eventually he makes it to the door and steps out into the bright sun of the waking, and -

End title

#Dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #On today's episode of 'fics I have so vividly in my head but Simply Cannot Put To Paper'#Have some more angst. Still on the house #Haha get it? On the house? Ey?#Never mind #Trying this again because the formatting went wonky when I first posted it sorry folks

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soaringthroughthegalaxy · 2 months

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hi!! just read both of your wrecker works and rineicbeijcwjkdjs LOVED THEM!! wrecker’s my fav of tbb and i really feel like he needs more love😭 i'm gonna be checking out some of your other works later lol

anyways i saw that you were taking requests, so i went through your prompt list and saw two that caught my eye. they're 24. “You need to wake up because I can't do this without you.” and 18. “I almost lost you.”

i was wondering if you could write something with those prompts for wrecker please? like tbb + reader were able to rescue omega, crosshair, and tech (i am believer in tech surviving season 2 finale), but the reader got seriously injured during the rescue and is now in a coma. wrecker would be the one to say the prompts and it would be angsty like wrecker thinking the reader might die. but please let this end happily.

other than those details i trust your writing skills and process for anything! take your time writing, there's absolutely no rush!! and again your writing is soooo awesome!!😊😊

Well hello there!

I'm so glad you enjoyed those fics, and thank you for popping this request in - so sorry it's taken me so long to write it! I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope it hits the spot 😁

I guess it's also technically canon divergent now S3 is out, haha 😅

Through the Darkness

No one said rescuing the rest of the Batch from Mount Tantiss would be easy - you just didn't expect it to go like this.

Pairing: Wrecker x F!reader

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: canon typical violence, reader in a coma for a bit, little bit of angst, but also dashes of hope, happily ever after.

Translations: sarad - flower

Hemlock has his hands on you, his blaster pressed to your temple. The sounds of fighting cease. Dead TK Troopers litter the floor. Wrecker and his siblings freeze, slowly lowering their weapons.

Your back is pressed to Hemlock’s chest, and there isn’t a clean shot at him.

“Anyone moves and your dear liaison will pay the price,” Hemlock states.

Rage flows through Wrecker. You were in danger, too far for him to grab and shield, and he had no idea what to do. He glances at his siblings – Omega curled against Hunter’s side with weariness painted on her face, Tech leaning heavily against Echo for support as his body protests the prolonged time standing. Crosshair had peeled off from the group earlier, searching for what or who none of them was sure. They were all back together again. A family again. He wasn’t about to let Hemlock take you from them.

Shakes start in your thighs, slowly creeping up your body until your arms and hands tremble, too. You’ve been in dangerous situations before, had your life threatened before - but you’re certain Hemlock would do it. The man is crazy and will stop at nothing to get his hands on your family. The sound of his verbal back and forth with Hunter is like white noise.

The slightest movement in the rafters above catches your attention, and your eyes dart up. Battered and bruised, Crosshair has found a vantage point and a rifle. Those hawkish eyes meet yours, and a silent conversation is shared. You do the maths. There’s only one way out of this. Thank the Maker you still trust him, even after everything.

You give an almost imperceivable nod, knowing he’ll catch it. You flick your gaze to the others, taking one last look, just in case. Echo, who’d joined you all near the end of the war and had so seamlessly slipped into the fold of your family. Tech, worse for wear after his fall on Eriadu, but with that same solid determination in his eyes. Hunter, the man who’d welcomed you into the squad all those years ago, listened when you shared your thoughts and didn’t make a fuss when you broke terrible news to them about the next mission. Omega, trying to hide her fear through bravery – so much for a young girl with such a pure heart to endure. And Wrecker, the imposing force of a man who’d always put himself between you and danger, who reached for you at every opportunity and consoled you when things had gotten too much – the man you’d quietly loved for some time.

With a shaky breath, you close your eyes, placing all your faith in Crosshair. The quiet sniper who’d at first sneered at you and flicked toothpicks in your face before he’d thawed out and helped perfect your aim, taught you how to use his rifle, and what to look out for when scouting.

The sound of his shot reverberates around the hanger, and milliseconds later, searing pain tears through your shoulder, pulling a piercing cry from your lips. Legs giving out, you crumple, welcoming the cold durasteel you hit.

You don’t know if they all made it out, but you pray they did.

Wrecker hasn’t moved in weeks, refusing to leave you alone. The memory of you being shot won’t leave him; the sound of your agony is stuck on repeat. You’d been in bacta for what felt like forever, the shiny skin on your shoulder a testament to its healing power, but it wasn’t enough to wake you from the coma you’d slipped into. Pabu’s only Doctor had insisted on removing you from the tank once your physical wounds had healed, transferring you to a standard medical bed.

Crosshair’s shot had torn through your shoulder, but the angle had been perfect. Wrecker hadn’t expected any less from his little brother. The bolt had exited you and entered Hemlock, hitting him straight in the chest. A kill shot. That hadn’t killed you. Or so Wrecker hoped. Even if you woke, your shoulder would likely ache for the rest of your life, and your arm would not be as strong as before.

The sound of the door opening pulls Wrecker’s gaze from your prone form and across the small room in Pabu’s clinic. Crosshair slides through the crack in the door, thin lips pressed together, brow pinched. He visits often, guilt in his eyes every time he looks you over. You might’ve okayed the shot, but it still tore at the sniper’s soul to have hurt you.

“Nothing?” Crosshair rasps, sticking close to the door as he glances between you and his brother. He’d never admit it, but fear was starting to settle in his gut. If you didn’t wake…

“Nothin’.” Wrecker confirms, shoulders slumped. “Been talkin’ to her. Doc said she might be able to hear us. Not that it’s doin’ much good.” He sighs, gaze shifting back to you. “Told her we all got out okay. That you and Tech and the kid are alright. Don’t want her worryin’.”

Crosshair makes a slight noise, acknowledging his brother’s words as his gaze lingers on your prone form.

“You stayin’ a bit?” Wrecker asks, using one foot to push out the spare chair at his side – the rest of their siblings often visited, too.

Hesitating, Crosshair lets out a small sigh as he moves across the room, lowering himself silently into the chair. He hadn’t stayed before, preferring to flit in for any news before disappearing. It hurt too much to see you this way, knowing he’d caused it. That and he was still working through everything that had happened during his time with the Empire, trying to fix his relationships with his siblings. But Wrecker needed him, so he’d stay.

You’d always hated the dark.

The shadows surround you, pressing in from all sides. Yet amidst the inky darkness, you find yourself standing in a solitary spot of light, its glow offering a semblance of warmth amidst the chill of the void. The lights kept appearing, and you’d learned quickly that when a new one glistened on the horizon, you had to run for it before the light you were already standing in disappeared.

You’d lost track of how many lights you’d chased so far.

Each one varied in intensity – sometimes brilliant beacons, other times mere flickers barely piercing the gloom. Yet, regardless of their brightness, they all held a magnetic pull, drawing you forward with an unyielding force. And each time you reached one, a brief respite washed over you, a fleeting moment before the next journey into the unknown began.

Scanning the horizon, you spot another light starting to beckon, its faint glow a promise of safety. With a heavy heart, you know what you need to do.

Taking a deep breath, you burst into a sprint. Each step forward is a battle against the darkness, its tendrils reaching out like icy fingers, eager to drag you into its embrace. Goosebumps prickle your arms, heart pounding as fear gnaws at your insides, but a stubborn determination fuels your movements. You can’t afford to falter, to succumb to the darkness, not after everything.

Worry lingers at the edge of your consciousness, a constant reminder of uncertainty. What lay beyond the lights? Will you ever find your way back to the world you once knew? The questions taunt you, echoing in your mind relentlessly the longer you spend here.

Yet, a glimmer of hope remains amidst the fear and uncertainty. Though the darkness threatens to overwhelm you, there must be a reason for the light. There has to be something causing it. Blessing you with it. Giving you these small moments of respite and keeping you in one piece.

You keep going. One foot in front of the other.

A shove yanks Wrecker out of sleep, and the big man jolts awake with a small yelp.

Crosshair snickers, leaning back in his seat, drawing his hand back towards his chest. “Sleeping on the job, vod.” He can’t help but jibe, his smirk melting into a frown at the sound of Wrecker’s stomach growling. “When’s the last time you ate?” He asks. He hadn’t wanted to wake him, seeing him finally getting some rest, but the sun was high in the sky now, and Crosshair knew it wouldn’t be long until Omega and Hunter swung by.

Blinking, Wrecker’s mind takes a moment to catch up with the fact he’s awake. “Urm, yesterday? Maybe?” He guesses, not really sure. The days were starting to blend together.

With a huff, Crosshair stands, long legs unfolding. “Will get you something. Can’t wither away before she wakes.” He mutters, grateful for the opportunity to leave and not have to sit any longer in silence with his feelings – he’d done enough of that for the day.

With a slight nod of appreciation, Wrecker watches as Crosshair heads out the door, hearing the gentle click of it shutting behind him. Hand wiping over his face, Wrecker shifts in the chair, stretching a little. But he can’t avoid the inevitable forever, and although it pains him, he looks you over for what feels like the millionth time.

Despite his imposing stature, he feels powerless.

He hadn’t been able to protect you - the woman he loves. He’s loved you since the moment he first met you in the hanger of a Venator, as you’d been assigned to him and his brothers as their liaison. You’d offered them a smile that had rendered him speechless, and his booming laughter had then filled the hanger when you’d quipped back at Crosshair as he'd sneered about them not needing a babysitter.

You kept them on their toes and blended in so seamlessly with their chaotic lives.

Without an audience, Wrecker clears his throat, leaning forward in his seat to gently take your tiny hand in his much larger one. “I hope ya can hear me, sarad.” He starts, voice mellow. “Been a few weeks now since we got ’em back.” He’s not sure how much you’re aware of, if the passing of time is something you’re experiencing. “Cross was just here. Finally sat for a bit. Think he feels guilty.” Wrecker pauses, brows furrowing, face pinching. “I feel guilty. Should have protected ya, kept ya close.” Wrecker’s voice cracks a little, emotion seeping through.

“We’re all here, though. Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what. Can’t wait for ya to wake up and tell us all how much trouble we’re in.” He chuckles softly, a hint of sadness in the sound. “Just...ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.” He admits, a well of emotion pressing down on his chest.

Wrecker’s words hang heavy in the air, the weight of his emotions palpable even in the silence of the clinic. He wishes he could shake this feeling of helplessness and do more than just sit by your side, waiting for a sign of life. But for now, all he can offer is his unwavering presence and a steady stream of conversation, hoping against hope that somewhere within your subconscious, you can hear him.

Keep going. You need to keep going.

The darkness claws at you, desperate to slow you down and draw you into its embrace. But the light grows closer with every step you take, with every thud of your heart as you race forward. Amidst your footsteps echoing in the void is the faintest whisper of something familiar.

No.

Not something.

Someone.

“Wreck!” You cry out into the darkness, feet faltering for a second as you recognise the deep voice. The darkness tries to take advantage of your momentary hiccup, but with a yelp, you pick up your pace. The hope that lingers in your heart explodes. As you draw closer to the light, Wrecker’s voice comes into focus. “Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what.”

With renewed determination, you push yourself harder, every muscle in your body screaming for rest, but you refuse to give in. The light grows brighter, its warmth now palpable against your skin.

And then, just as you’re on the verge of stepping into the light, a sudden force knocks you off balance, sending you sprawling onto the cold, hard ground. Panic grips your chest as you scramble, desperate to continue your pursuit.

But the darkness has other plans, closing in around you like a suffocating blanket, obscuring the light. Amidst the coldness creeping through your body, you cling to the memory of Wrecker’s voice, a lifeline in the darkness.

Body straining, you crawl forward, ignoring the pain and exhaustion, determination burning bright within you. You don’t belong in the darkness. You belong in the light. With them. With him.

Straining, you reach out an arm, trembling fingers skimming the edge of the light as Wrecker’s voice comes through loud and clear. “…ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.”

The darkness recoils.

With a final surge of strength, you propel yourself forward, breaking free from the suffocating grip of the void. The light envelops you, wrapping you in its warm embrace as the shadows recede into the distance, getting further and further away. Relief floods through you, tears of joy mingling with sweat on your cheeks.

Head tilting back, you look up at the light, a bubble of laughter escaping as you bask in the glow. Eyes fluttering shut, you savour the moment. Yet this time, when you open your eyes, there’s no darkness or blinding light anymore.

You blink. Once. Twice. The soft hum of medical equipment fills the air. And there, beside you, is Wrecker, head bowed, the weight of his hand wrapped around yours.

Everything seems to freeze except the frantic thudding of your heart. “Wreck…” You whisper, your voice hoarse from disuse as you dare to hope you’re back. Really back.

Wrecker’s head jolts up at the rasped sound of his name, his good eye widening as he meets your gaze, your name falling from his lips as his features crumple, a heaving sob of relief escaping him.

You slowly sit up, wincing at the ache that shoots through your shoulder. It’s still tender, but the pain is nothing compared to the overwhelming flood of emotions that wash over you at the sight of Wrecker’s tear-streaked face.

You reach out, cupping his cheek in your hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you in reality. “I’m here.” You murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure if you’re trying to convince yourself or him.

Wrecker’s grip tightens around your hand as if afraid you might slip away again if he lets go. He leans into your touch, his words catching in his throat momentarily before he stands, leaning over the bed to envelop you in an embrace, protective yet gentle, conscious of your shoulder. “You’re back.” He murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “Thought I almost lost ya.”

Weak but grateful, you return his embrace, feeling the warmth of his presence washing over you, grounding you in reality. A lump forms in your throat at the thought of him worrying about you, thinking he would lose you. “Not going anywhere, big guy.” You reassure him, sniffling as you try to keep a lid on your emotions. “The others?” You ask cautiously, dread curling in your gut.

“All made it,” Wrecker confirms, arms slowly uncurling from around you as he sits back in his chair, hand scooping up yours so he can maintain some contact.

Your dread is swept away and replaced immediately by relief; this time, you don’t bother holding back your sobs.

“No cryin’, pretty girl. Please.” Wrecker’s heart aches at the sight, his free hand moving to cup your face and wipe away the tears.

You smile through your tears, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions. Wrecker’s touch is like a lifeline. “Sorry.” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to reign in your feelings. “Just...so relieved.”

Wrecker offers you a tender smile. “No need to apologise, sarad,” he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. A bolt of courage has him leaning forward to gently kiss your forehead.

As Wrecker’s lips meet your forehead, warmth seeps through you, chasing away the last remnants of the dark coldness. He pulls back a little, his gaze meeting yours, and the air feels electric. Without a word, you lean forward, closing the distance between you as your lips finally meet his in a soft, tentative kiss.

And you realize that amidst the chaos and darkness, love has always been the guiding light, leading you back to where you belong.

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @starrylothcat @cw80831 @dreamie411 @issa-me-bry-blog @leftealeaf @isaidonyourknees

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sunflower-emoji · 3 months

Text

Wallflower (Hawks x Reader)

You're shy. Hawks isn't.

(more Hawks fluff <;3)

It didn't matter that people would kill for a job like yours, you were going to quit. It wasn't worth this nightmare called a charity ball you found yourself at.

You were young and far down the hierarchy. You had assumed that the higher-ups would send someone with an established reputation to represent the company.

"No, you'll be perfect. A charming young face is exactly what our brand needs," your boss insisted.

You bit back a scoff. One of the reasons you became a costume designer was so you didn't have to schmooze people. You always loved the world of heroics, knew you wanted to be part of it in some way. But large crowds and larger personalities launched your heart rate skyward. Costume design was perfect: challenging, creative, and just the right amount of human interaction. Sure, you weren’t the most sociable, but you loved working one-on-one with your clients, getting to know them slowly over time and never worrying about going blind from direct exposure to the spotlight.

None of this seemed to matter to your boss, or your colleagues, who refused to take your place even as they sighed with envy. You were beginning to think it was part of a bigger conspiracy to get you to "come out of your shell," and you resented them for it.

Still, you wished one of them were here so you could have someone to talk to. Your charming young face didn't know a single person here.

That wasn't entirely true. You recognized some of your clients, had even tried to talk to one of them, making it through a full thirty seconds of stilted conversation before someone more famous pulled them away. You immediately fled to the periphery of the room where other guests floated past, preoccupied with other things and people.

That was fine, You were really only interested in one person here anyway, and you knew the chances of actually talking to him were nonexistent.

You had caught glimpses of him throughout the night. It was hard not to, his giant red wings a beacon, standing out even more in his all-black ensemble. Never long enough for eye contact, but you held on to the hope of getting a wave or a quick smile at some point tonight.

Hawks was an established client at your company, his costume the creation of your boss's boss. The two of you met a few months ago after you had been assigned to find a new material for his visor. Something sturdier without sacrificing visibility. He visited you regularly to test out the prototypes.

At first you were terrified, unsure how to talk to the loud, gregarious hero. The energetic banter your veteran coworkers had with him wasn't something you could match. But Hawks had surprised you with a patient smile and questions about your work, listening so attentively your passion overtook your shyness. It didn't take long for you to feel at ease with the hero, even if your heart never settled into its normal rhythm when he was around.

But there was a big difference between his visits to your studio and you approaching him in the middle of a giant gala, surrounded by dozens of other heroes and bigwigs. So you leaned against the wall, checking your phone and wondering if it was late enough to leave without getting yelled at later.

"Should've known you'd be over here!" You jump at the sudden visitor, who chuckles at your reaction.

Your heart's still in your throat, but you feel calmer now that Hawks stands in front of you. Something familiar at last.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you seem like the wallflower type," he replies with a head tilt and teasing grin.

"Am not!" You said it as a reflex. Both of you knew very well that you were a wallflower. And you had in fact spent the entire evening against a wall.

Hawks' eyes narrow, deviousness creeping into his smile. "Oh? Well in that case, I guess you won't mind sharing a dance with me."

When you fail to immediately take his outstretched hand, he pouts. "Come on, Endeavor already turned me down. Are you really gonna let me be rejected twice tonight?"

You huff out a “fine,” and he guides you to the dance floor with an eager pull of your hand, his feet not quite touching the ground. To your relief, he stops in a space off-center, his wings partially open as he brings his other hand up to your waist.

The two of you twirl around in what you think is meant to be a waltz. Hawks can't keep a beat but insists on leading anyway, just barely missing your toes. Without warning, he spins you out before snapping you back against his chest and you feel the rumble of his laughter. You're grateful he can't see your reddened face, dizzy from spinning and the scent of his cologne.

By the end of the song, you've gathered enough wits for a little payback. As the music swells for the final time, you slip your hand around to Hawks' back and press your knee forward. His eyebrows raise in delight at your mischievous grin and he lets you dip him, throwing his arm out with a flourish.

There's a smattering of applause, some conversation to your side, but you're not paying attention to any of it, too focused on Hawks beaming up at you.

"Sooo, how about it? Up for another?"

You agree without hesitation this time. It's not like you had anything better to do this evening.

#I hear you ask “kaye how are you supposed to dip hawks with his giant wings in the way”#the answer is carefully dear reader #very carefully #anyway hello i love fancy galas and fancy dancing and being goofy and bad at fancy dancing #You can expect more on this theme #bnha #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #x reader

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damianbugs · 1 year

Note

If you r still doing the fic recs, what are some good Bruce and Jason ones? I'm going insane

HELLO. oh my gosh. you know, since exam month has officially begun, i should be studying, but like, why would i do that when i could be doing this instead? this is like. so much more productive for my happiness.

it's no secret i am not normal absolutely totally insane about bruce and jason and OF COURSE i will rec you fics of them. i have 150+ bookmarks of fics just centred around them so i really tried to narrow it down to a few of my favourites. if you ever need anymore please ask again!

what a truly disastrous tragedy they are. the blueprint i fear. no fictional father and son has impacted me more. jason and bruce fic writers lace their works in crack because once you read one, you are stuck forever. there is no escape. trust me. anyways!

BRUCE AND JASON FIC RECS

don't take your guns to town by kreestar

batman comes home from a night patrolling to find a 10 year old jason todd waiting for him in his kitchen. across gotham, at the same time, red hood is stopped by a 25 year old bruce wayne.

MY NOTES: no one is surprised at all that the first fic on this list is time travel. the characterisation in this was insanely good especially between young bruce and jason i loved their parts. so bittersweet and the ending was lovely!

I Will Always Be There For You by squashflower

There's a closet in the manor that locks you inside. It has no lighting or heating or air conditioning of any kind, and Jason, safe to say, wishes he could burn it to the ground. Or shoot it. One of the two.

MY NOTES: there is just something so good about stories where it switches from robin jason to an experience mirrored by red hood jason and this is the perfect example. so so good.

all the small weights by sparkycap

When Batman gets hit with fear toxin, he worries about his Robins. His Robins think it's their job to deal with it. Jason wasn't aware anyone still included him in that group, but according to Tim, he's the only one available.

MY NOTES: fear toxin the trope that keeps on giving. best thing about this though is that the actual fear toxin is not the main part of the story, and i think it was handled so beautifully and maturely in a way i haven't seen before. i cried (twice).

-> just an aside, but i think you should read the other bruce and jason work by this specific writer. they're all insanely good.

Mermaid Tears by minnow_doodle_doo

And if real mermaid tears were what Jason wanted the world to have, Bruce would make Aquaman cry glass.

MY NOTES: teehee sorry for recommending ur own fic in ur ask minnow but this fic is just so sweet and special i need everyone to read it. a wonderful look into that all encompassing love bruce had for jason when things were much simpler for them.

Aftermath by ivy_and_ivory

Now: Batman is in Paris, pulled there by a case that extends beyond Gotham’s borders, when circumstances lead him to a badly injured Red Hood – who might hold the key to Batman’s investigation.

Then: The Red Hood storms into Gotham, begins to stake his claim on the criminal underground, then abruptly disappears – but only after he breaks into Arkham Asylum and leaves the Joker dead in his own cell.

Or: A study of why Bruce couldn’t kill the Joker, what would happen if someone else could – and how you move on from the aftermath.

MY NOTES: you know when you find a fic and you're just like. oh my god. this is it. this is exactly what i wanted. this is all that matters. yeah. that's this fic to me. im sort of obsessed with the idea of batman bonding with red hood without making the direct connection that it's jason.

A Straight Blade by Sparkypants

"What happened to your face?" Bruce asks, reaching his hand for Jason's jaw. "You're bleeding." Jason bristles, cheeks turning pink. "I cut myself shaving." He says, and wipes at the cut with the cuff of his hoody. Damian makes a clicking noise with his tongue, "I'm amazed you haven't taken your own head off." He snarks. Jason shoves his chair away from the table, temper flaring. "Well it's not like anyone ever taught me, is it." He hisses. He's five years late, but Bruce finally teaches Jason how to shave.

MY NOTES: i am so okay so normal about this fic. such a sweet little happy story but i was literally looking down at my screen squinting through my blurry vision because i was tearing up. the unknowing domestic simplicities of being father and son (hysterical sobbing)

Stargazer by LemonadeGarden

Jason Todd is seriously injured during patrol one night, and is forced to stay at the manor to recuperate until his injuries are healed. To pass the time, he makes a list of things he never got to do before he died. Except there's one small problem: most of them involve Bruce, and Jason doesn't really think Bruce cares all that much about him anymore. This is a story about how wrong he is, but I made it sad anyway.

MY NOTES: okay so i think the best way to end this post is with the first ever bruce and jason centric work i ever read that changed the chemicals in my brain forever. THIS is the fic that made me really latch onto their relationship and want to see that reconciliation and recovery. THE roadtrip fic ever.

#bruce wayne #jason todd #oh how they r so important #batfamily fic recs #saki batfam fic recs #batman #red hood #robin ii

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matchavellichor · 7 months

Note

Hi, I hope your day is going well when you read this!! I know you said you were currently taking a slight break from writing due to school, and first of all, I'm wishing you the very best of your studies! But I thought I would send a request just in case you do resume writing fics in the future, but feel free to ignore this! This seems a bit plain, but I was wondering if you could write an ominis x fmc where mc is terribly shy and avoidant to no one but ominis due to her feelings for him? Over time, though, Ominis observes her personality when interacting with other people, becoming fond of her but is left conflicted seeing how nervous she is around him, leaving him to wonder if she hates him or not. Since Ominis can’t see MC staring at him or how her cheeks go red around him, we could perhaps have Sebastian take note of this and act like the typical tease-playing wingman to set Ominis and MC up? It’s a pretty fluffy request, but you can lead it down any road you want, whether it turns out suggestively or not.

A/N: hi!!! tysm for the kindness <3 uni is still kind of hectic at the moment unfort, but i LOVED this idea sm so i decided to write a lil something anyway. ty for the request, hope you enjoy!

Great Expectations

Ominis x f!MC - Fluff - 3k words

Summary: Urged on by Sebastian's insistence that the reason for MC's evasiveness is that she harbors a secret crush, Ominis decides to take Sebastian's advice and find this out for himself.

Tags: Miscommunication, Wingman Sebastian, Clueless Ominis, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Banter, First Kiss

"Some light reading?"

Ominis can sense the way she startles, nearly dropping the tall stack of books balanced carefully in her arms.

“Oh, uh…hello, Ominis,” she greets as she rights herself, voice oddly tight. “I hadn’t realized you were here.”

“Always am. The library’s practically my second home at this point,” he smiles warmly, making some attempt at small talk.

There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat to break the silence. “I uh, I hadn’t realized you were such an avid reader yourself,” he tilts his head, waving his wand over the topmost title in her pile. “Ah, and you have taste! Dickens is brilliant. I’d love to pick your brain sometime about—”

“I apologize, if—you’ll um, if you’ll excuse me,” she suddenly interrupts, eyes trained at her feet, before she’s brushing past him in the tight corridor of shelves and exiting towards one of the more populated corners of the library.

Ominis frowns, brows knitting together in confusion and what’s beginning to morph into genuine offense at this point.

“Was it something I said?” he mutters under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ever since they had become acquaintances, any attempts at amicability on his part had been met with brisk dismissals, curt replies, and her avoiding him like the plague. At first he thought her simply timid, but after observing her behavior with the likes of Sebastian or Garreth or any of her other friends, Ominis had been seriously considering some innate character flaw of his own.

He had thought he had made some progress in their relationship at the last gathering they had frequented, a weekend get-together in the Slytherin common room, but it was quickly becoming apparent that he’d been sorely mistaken.

Was he really so unapproachable? Dreadfully unlikeable? Did she simply have no interest in befriending him?

Ominis tries to pretend his ego isn't bruised by this notion, but fails miserably when his brain wanders to more woeful reasons as to why she would want nothing to do with him. His family’s notoriety and the rumors surrounding his person that are frequently pedaled around the castle undoubtedly have already reached her ears.

Filled with a strange sense of defeat, Ominis abandons any of his original plans of reading in favor of sulking in the common room alone. Less than two steps towards the library exit, however, and he’s bombarded by Sebastian.

“Ominis, you sly dog, don’t think I didn’t see you two warming up in the back shelves,” he grins, poking his friend in the ribs and waggling his brows.

Ominis frowns, swatting at the brunette’s hand. “Warming up is certainly not the term I would use. She despises me.”

“Despises you? Are you blind?”

“...Yes?”

“I refuse to believe you’re that blind,” Sebastian amends, scoffing. “Don’t tell me you really haven’t noticed.”

“Noticed what? The way she can’t bear to spend longer than a minute around me?” Ominis grumbles. “Trust me, I’m well aware.”

“Oh Gods, you’re just as hopeless as she is,” Sebastian groans, deeply pained. “She doesn’t despise you, she’s head over heels, Ominis,” he leans in with an all-too smug tone. “Take it from a man who knows the ladies.”

Ominis turns his head over his shoulder as if in search. “And, pray tell, where is this man?”

He receives an indignant smack on the arm. “I’m serious! Trust me, it’s obvious to anyone with eyes. I mean, why do you think she’s always so nervous around you?”

“She probably thinks I’m going to curse her or something,” Ominis mutters. “My reputation isn’t exactly the nicest, Sebastian. Are you forgetting who my family is?”

Sebastian barks out a laugh. “I’m sorry, Ominis, but anyone who takes even a second out of their day to speak to you will know you’re incapable of harming a lacewing fly. Trust me on this, she likes you.”

Ominis pauses for a moment, considering the possibility that had never before crossed his mind before. An involuntary warmth spreads over his skin, surfacing all kinds of unbidden feelings he doesn’t have much experience in handling. Noticing his contemplative silence, Sebastian peeks at the blonde.

“Oh, Salazar, you’re blushing,” he gasps, no small amount of delight seeping through his tone. “You know, for a while I was half-convinced you were incapable of it. Me and Garreth actually had a bet that were half-vamp—”

Ominis scowls, pushing Sebastian’s fingers away from where they were currently trying to prod at his flushed cheeks. “I am not blushing. Look, this whole notion is ridiculous, even for you, Sebastian. She can barely tolerate me, much less harbor some crush on me.”

“Fine,” Sebastian shrugs, feigning acquiescence. “Then flirt with her. See what happens, and if she truly despises you as you say, then no harm, no foul.”

Ominis sputters. “I will not flirt with her, don’t be absurd.”

“Why not? If you already believe she hates you, what do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? My already maimed ego? You’ve seen her in Defence against the Dark Arts, if we’re being realistic I’m probably in risk of breaking a couple bones as well—”

“Ominis, just try,” Sebastian groans, looking ready to rip his hair out. “If you don’t, I’m marching right back into that library and flirting with her for you.”

Immediately, memories of Sebastian’s past trysts with women and the sheer amount of crudeness in even his most tame chat-up lines come to mind. Ominis panics. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, we both know I would,” Sebastian grins, stopping in his tracks and turning back towards the library doors. “Remember that one boiling cauldron line Garreth taught me? I’ll go up and tell her you begged me to use it for you—”

“Stop, stop, alright,” Ominis grits, fisting a hand in the back of Sebastian’s robes to pull him back. He sighs. “I’ll….I’ll speak to her, alright?”

Sebastian claps a hand over his shoulder, pleased. “That’s the spirit.”

As much as Ominis would have liked to postpone the inevitable as much as possible, fate was not on his side. He had the misfortune of running into her while on his way to the Great Hall for dinner, and with Sebastian by his side, he would have no chance of escape.

After urging his friend on with not so friendly threats, Sebastian made himself scarce, though undoubtedly somewhere within earshot so he could listen to disaster unfold.

“Just the person I was looking for,” he greets with as much warmth as he can manage, though his nerves are broiling a storm in his gut. “Have you gotten in any good reading today?”

Once again, she seems startled by his presence. “You were…looking for me?”

“Well, yes. I was wondering if I might accompany you to dinner?” he smiles. “Would give me a chance to bore you with my fascination with muggle literature.”

“Oh,” her eyes widen, looking almost excited before it’s washed over with anxiety. “I’m sorry, I uh, I wasn’t…going to dinner.”

“Oh,” Ominis frowns, noting how close they were to the Great Hall. “Where were you heading then?”

“The library,” she blurts out and Ominis tilts his head in confusion.

“But the library’s in the opposite direction,” he nods over his shoulder. “And haven’t you just come back from there?”

“I–I have to go,” she says, suddenly swiveling in the other direction and brushing past him. “Apologies.”

Once again, Ominis is left perplexed, and increasingly hurt. The only thing the interaction has done is given him a bigger headache, her behavior irrational in the face of Sebastian’s theory. Ominis finds himself even more convinced she hates his guts.

As if on cue, Sebastian ducks out from behind a tapestry shielding an alcove, an almost pained sort of grimace on his face.

“That was…bad.”

“Understatement of the year,” Ominis groans. “Do you see what I mean? She clearly doesn’t like me, Sebastian. All I’ve done is made a bigger fool of myself.”

“She’s nervous, Ominis. She was blushing the entire interaction. Look, maybe try being more direct? Girls like confidence! Tell her you will spend time with her and that you won’t take no for an answer.”

Ominis blinks at him. “Are you trying to get my bollocks hexed off?”

“While that would be deeply amusing, no,” Sebastian assures. “Look, she’s clearly just too shy to let herself spend time with you, that’s why she runs away. You can’t give her a way out, hell, incarcerous her if you have to.”

Ominis looks genuinely concerned for any women that have had the terrible misfortune of being the objects of Sebastian’s romantic interest. “How you’ve not found yourself in Azkaban yet amazes me.”

“Oh, shush,” he scowls before suddenly snapping his fingers, metaphorical lightbulb lighting up his face. “I’ve got it! Remember how Sharp gave her detention this weekend for sneaking ingredients for Garreth? Just muck something up tomorrow in Potions, and done! She’ll be forced to spend a whole evening with you.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“It’s brilliant,” Sebastian grins, far too proud of himself. “Everyone knows detention is the best place to snog.”

Ominis chokes. “There will be no snogging—”

“Oh, got bigger plans in mind, have you? Ominis, you dirty little devil—”

The tips of his ears burning bright-red, Ominis pushes through the entrance doors to the Great Hall before Sebastian can get another word in, thanking Merlin she’d foregone dinner tonight.

While sprinkling some erumpent horn powder in Sharp’s cauldron during a practical demonstration was easier than he’d thought, actually having to go to detention the upcoming Saturday evening was not.

Pacing his dorm room anxiously while he counts down the hours until he has to make his way down to the Potions classroom, Ominis can’t help but be besmirched by his own stupidity at how he inevitably let Sebastian talk him into this.

Like the devil, Sebastian pokes his head through the door, not even bothering to knock. He plops himself down on one of the beds, eyeing the blonde with poorly-concealed bewilderment. “What are you so strung up for?”

“Not helping,” he glowers. “What if she runs away again?”

“Relax, would you?” Sebastian rolls his eyes, standing to walk over and muss the blonde’s hair. Ominis scowls and swats at his friend, but Sebastian is nothing if not stubborn, pulling at Ominis’ neatly folded uniform tie until it drapes messily around his neck.

“Perfect,” he grins, standing back to examine his work.

Ominis frowns, attempting with great futility to smooth his hair back into place. “I look like a delinquent.”

“How would you know?” Sebastian raises a brow. “You look great. Girls like a bit of a bad boy, you know. And after your stunt in Sharp’s class you’re certainly starting to build a reputation.”

“You were the one who told me to do it!”

“I told you to get yourself detention, not cause a minor explosion.”

Waving a wand over his wristwatch to check the time, Ominis’ pulse doubles when he realizes he has to be in Sharp’s classroom in a few minutes.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Sebastian is dragging him out the door, blabbering terrible advice as if he’s sending his friend off to a first date and not detention with a grouchy Potions master.

“—And most importantly of all, compliment her, Ominis. I know you’re not very expressive, but for the love of Merlin, tell her she looks nice,” he practically shoves the blonde through the common room door, adding a final, “have fun! Use the contraceptive charm!”

Ominis is promptly left alone in the dimly-lit corridor, a heat involuntarily rising to his cheeks, praying some greater force will strike him down before he has to humiliate himself any further.

The classroom is empty when he finally arrives a few minutes behind schedule, except for where he inevitably finds her scrubbing cauldrons in the back of the room. She tenses when he approaches, but doesn’t startle when he greets her this time. Ominis wonders if he can put it down as progress.

“Sharp asked me to tell you we’re not allowed to use magic,” she nods towards the stack of cauldrons perched on the workspace. “And, um that we’re only to bother him if someone’s bleeding, dying, or dead.”

Ominis nods, pointedly taking the space beside her and dragging one of the soot-covered cauldrons towards him to begin working.

There’s a tension between them that Ominis can’t ignore for the life of him, only the sound of scrubbing to cut through the painstaking silence. After a few unbearable moments, he clears his throat, remembering Sebastian’s advice.

“You look nice tonight,” he attempts, though his voice sounds oddly thick with nerves.

The sound of scrubbing stops. “Sorry?”

“I said you uh, you look very nice,” he attempts with more firmness, though his hands are white-knuckled around the edge of the table to stop himself from bolting from the mortification.

“Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“What?” he asks perplexed, forgetting momentarily a crucial reason as to why the compliment would seem absurd coming from him. “Oh dear Merlin, no, no that’s not how I meant it all.”

“Very funny, Ominis,” she takes in a sharp breath, dropping the brush with a dull clatter into the cauldron before she crosses her arms and faces him, all timidness suddenly replaced by a glaring frustration in her tone. Ominis isn't sure if it's an improvement, but at least she’s talking to him. “Did Sebastian put you up to this?”

“Sebastian? What? Of course not,” he sputters, desperately trying to amend. “I— Look, I’m—I’m sorry. Can I start over? Please?”

She raises an expectant eyebrow.

“You don’t look nice,” he tries, trying to suppress the wince that washes over his features. His only consolance is that Sebastian isn’t here to witness any of it. “I’m sorry, no—that’s not—I meant, I’m sure you do look nice, not that I would…know, but,” he runs a hand over his face, certain that if she didn't hate him before, she certainly does now. “I meant, you smell very nice. That I can tell, you…you smell very lovely, actually.”

There’s a long pause where she simply stares at him before her frustration inevitably only seems to double. “Is this what you find entertaining?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re taunting me,” she seethes. “You obviously know what I feel for you and now you’re making fun of me for it, aren’t you? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“What? Salazar, no, that’s not it at all—”

“Truly hilarious,” she scoffs, shaking her head. “Very mature. Maybe try being more subtle—”

“That’s not what I’m—”

“You can stop pretending you want to hang out with me all the time now—”

“Will you listen? I’m not—”

“Next time, if you don’t feel the same way, then simply—hmpph!”

Despite the blaring alarm bells that should be going off in Ominis’ head for doing something so painfully impulsive to someone who could hex his entire bloodline in the time it takes her to take out her wand, his mind blanks out into a puddle of warmth as he crashes his lips to hers.

She freezes, mouth unmoving against his in the time it takes awareness to seep into her brain and for her to realize he’s kissing her.

To his relief, when the realization does set in, she kisses him back.

She seems to melt just as much as Ominis, her body instinctively leaning into his, hands going slack at her sides before they instinctively come to hold at his forearms where he’s cradling her face so she can’t pull away.

Ominis pulls him towards her, and then, urged on by some coiling heat inside of him he’s admittedly not too familiar with, he crowds her against the workspace. He nearly topples over several cauldrons in his franticness to deepen the kiss, muttering sheepish apologies through heavy breaths, but he’s far too consumed to feel embarrassed.

His lips on hers are clumsy and impatient, and maybe far too hungry for a first kiss, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her hands come up to thread through his hair, to drag down his scalp, and Ominis couldn’t stop the groan that leaves him if he had all the composure in the world.

He’s so far gone he doesn’t even care about all the soot they’re getting on each other, too preoccupied with trying to keep his knees from buckling, to press his body even more against hers as if it’s the greatest offense known to history that they’re not physically molded to one another. When he slots a thigh between her legs and she lets out a little noise against his mouth, he thinks he might just collapse.

Ominis skin feels hot to the touch, nerves prickling with want, with the urge to touch and taste and grind until he goes numb. She finally breaks the kiss, panting heavily against his mouth, eyes glazed over with just as much raw need. Though the loss is almost physically painful, Ominis is grateful for small mercies, because he was a few seconds away from tearing through her uniform top.

“You’re…” she swallows, trying to clear the breathlessness from her voice. “Uh, very committed to the bit, I suppose.”

Ominis can’t help the laugh that escapes him.

His shoulders shake, forehead dropping to meet hers, and when he glances back up he smiles, lips still raw and undoubtedly kiss-bruised. She returns his grin, until he can feel her smile against his mouth when he leans down to press his lips to hers again, because he simply can’t help himself.

They barely register the sound of the door to the professor’s office swinging open. Only when he clears his throat do they finally tear apart, and Ominis wonders if it’s possible to drop dead from sheer mortification.

Sharp lets out a long-suffering sigh, as if he’s accustomed to walking in on much, much worse by now and his hardly fazed.

“Just get the cauldrons clean,” he grumbles, grabbing a few texts on one of the adjacent tables. He hobbles back to the door, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. “Bloody teenagers and hormones, don’t get paid enough for this shit…”

He ducks his head out before closing the door, pointing a stern finger in their direction. “And not on my tables.”

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #ominis x you #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis x reader #fluff #hogwarts legacy fanfic

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duskbats · 2 years

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i’m not sure if this is something that people are interested in, but i kind of wanted to make this as a personal thing anyway in case i end up losing all of my occult related mods one day. these are mods for occult sims that i have in my game and either can’t live without, or am excited to try out myself!

this is heavily inspired by many other wonderful must have mod lists, so thank you to everyone who has made one of these as this post will follow a similar layout and structure and inspired me to make my own. i’ll try my best to keep this post up to date! - updated 6th april 2024.

mods marked “new!” aren’t necessarily new mods, but are new additions to this list.

vampires.

bloody bites & wounds.

i think i’d consider this my most essential vampire mod. it’s not for everyone, as it is quite gory, but i personally love that this adds levels of blood messiness depending on how much they drink etc. it’s pretty self explanatory otherwise!

vampires can kill.

this is a fun one that just made sense to me. i’m not one to have violence mods in my games, but sometimes a vampire can get a little carried away and drink more than they should, y’know?

immersive vampires.

i’m a big fan of any mod that adds depth to the way sims can interact with each other, even if it doesn’t have a significant effect. this mod adds the ability for vampires to ask others more about vampires and confess that they’re a vampire etc.

vampire magic.

i still have yet to actually play with this mod, but it appealed to me after making my vampire the masquerade sims and the tremere clan as they’re known to be magic users of sorts. i also really like how this mod can add a special sage too, and you find out vampire spells by asking the sages!

vampire bloodlines.

reworks the vampire bloodlines a little bit, making each bloodline have a different weakness/strength level in regards to xp gain and energy drain when being exposed to sunlight.

vampire initiation ritual.

this is another mod i haven’t played with yet but i 100% plan to when the time is appropriate in my gameplay. this adds a special event for a vampire initiation, where you can invite other vampires to witness the turning of a human.

more drinks for vampires.

another mod that i’d consider essential for my gameplay, i’m always on the lookout for more vampire drinks and food as the game is lacking them! this mod only adds drinks though, featuring a simple glass of blood and a blood cocktail. these can also be accessed from the vintage glamour bar which i think is super handy.

vampire food set. & NEW plasma foods!

similar to the above mod, this features food specifically for vampires. i do wish there were more vampire recipes, though. i also wanted to mention srslysims’ cooking overhaul includes some vampire recipes too, and for those who enjoy playing with vampire toddlers, this mod is great!

plasma fruit override.

pretty self explanatory and simple. it makes the plasma fruit look more blood-like by making everything red, this is something i’ll only use sometimes depending on the vibe of the gameplay i’m doing with vampires as sometimes i want it to be more sims-like and keep with the purple theme. but i’m currently using this mod!

vampires weakness freedom.

this is something i like to be selective with with my vampires, some i want to give weaknesses and some i don’t. i used to use mccc to remove weaknesses after picking their powers but this one allows you to pick powers without requiring weaknesses, too! but you can still pick them if you’d like. i also highly recommend this creator’s other vampire mods, such as no friendship decay from hissing.

misc. vampire mods.

there are a few other minor vampire mods that i want to include but they’re not major enough for me to make a section for each, so i decided to link the creator i depend on the most for my vampire mods, zero. they have various mods that i find to be more quality of life things for vampires, such as the pass out animation being more dramatic, and many more.

spellcasters.

alchemy overhaul.

once again, one of the most important mods for spellcasters i think! this mod allows you to create the outdoor retreat potions with the cauldron, adjusted the prices and ingredients and you can also purchase alchemy ingredients at the computer.

functional spellbook.

i actually adore this mod and every spellcaster of mine has one in their home! it’s very helpful for spellcasters that live in small homes as they can learn things from the book without having to walk all the way out to a big open space to practice spells in front of their neighbours.

expanded spells collection.

another handy mod that expands on pre-existing spells for your spellcasters. it adds more depth to certain spells such as allowing to clean pets with scruberoo, adding new types of summonable undead with necrocall and more.

craftable wands, brooms & tomes.

this one is completely new to me and i actually just found it when i was compiling this list, but it seems exciting to use and a great idea for running an alchemy shop. it’s pretty self explanatory, it allows you to craft certain wands and brooms with the woodworking table. tomes can be written on the computer like a regular book.

kids can perform magic. UPDATED (untested)

i know this mod used to work at some point, but i’m not 100% sure if it does anymore as i remember having some problems the last time i had a spellcaster child in my game. i was recently browsing this creator’s patreon and discovered that i THINK this mod has been updated? i haven’t been able to test it yet but here’s hoping! but if it does work or gets updated, this is a great mod as i never understood how magic for children wasn’t a thing in RoM already.

magic realm initiation rework.

i really like the sound of this mod as i never personally liked the “mote hunt” to become a spellcaster. this mod makes it so that each sage has a different task for spellcaster initiation.

misc. spellcaster mods.

similar to vampires, i depend on zero a lot for my spellcaster mods. they have many other minor quality of life mods or spellcasters as well that i highly recommend you check out if you play with spellcasters a lot!

werewolves.

i want to add a sidenote to this section to say i actually haven’t played with any of these mods yet as i have yet to play with werewolves in general, but i wanted to include werewolves in this list regardless as there are actually mods for them now!

mooncasters.

this mod seems to essentially give the ability for werewolves to be spellcasters, but they’re called mooncasters. it seems a bit complicated to become a mooncaster, but this mod looks very well thought out and in depth!

werewolf blood kills vampires.

i put this in the werewolf section as it seems to be more beneficial for werewolves than vampires, considering it has dire consequences for vampires. but the mod name itself is pretty self explanatory!

werewolves can kill sims.

another self explanatory mod name, and similar to the vampires can kill mod. werewolves can attack and kill sims with this mod!

no relationship loss from werewolf reactions.

i never liked these features that EA adds that makes it so that all sims react negatively to occult sims, so i’m happy to have this addition in my game!

less furious werewolves.

another mod i have yet to experience, but it seems that werewolves’ fury meters fill up way too quickly so this seems like an important one.

fated mate changes.

changes the way a werewolf can find their fated mate. previously, the werewolf would have to use a romantic interaction to discover if a sim is their fated mate. now this mod can make it so that any interaction can find their fated mate. also makes it so that a werewolf can find a fated mate whether they’re an occult or not!

werewolf club activities.

allows you to add werewolf activities to a club, essentially making a club version of a werewolf pack!

werewolf tweaks. new!

pretty self explanatory. this mod features a few tweaks for werewolves such as giving vampires a venomous bite, more vicious rampages and even a tea to protect sims from werewolves.

werewolf bloodlines. new!

basically the same as the other bloodline mods included here, but for werewolves.

various occult mods.

this section will feature mods for other occults or multiple occults, considering i haven’t found enough to give them their own section yet. werewolves will be added once more mods are made and i’ve experienced them to see what mods i find useful.

occult activities.

this applies to both spellcasters and vampires, and i think it’s really useful! it allows vampires to go out hunting in a rabbit hole if you don’t feel like helping them hunt for sims to feed from, and spellcasters can forage for ingredients for their potions.

supernatural traits.

this is a great mod that allows you to add special traits to your supernatural sims. these can either add depth to a pre-existing occult sim (i.e, a vampire with a haunted trait) or make new occults all together (sort of).

enhanced aliens. CURRENTLY BROKEN - Causes wants & fears to not show up!

this mod adds some well needed features to aliens. it gives them powers such as mood boosting and draining other sims and mind control powers that allow them to command a sim to do things, plus some other stuff.

alien bloodlines.

this basically just adds bloodlines similar to those that spellcasters have to aliens, but i definitely think it’s worth using if you play with aliens!

ghastly ghosts.

something that i’ve ALWAYS wanted is the ability to make ghosts feel more unique, and this mod seemingly does exactly that. now only certain sims can see ghosts (children, occults & mediums) and ghosts can’t easily communicate with living sims anymore, making those sims that can see ghosts feel special.

dormant occult traits.

this allows sims who have a lineage of occults to be born with a dormant trait related to that occult, which is apparently something that came with werewolves. these dormant traits can be unlocked in certain ways and allows said sim to rediscover their lineage and become that occult!

various occult food.

this find was HUGE for me, considering i’m always wanting more food for vampires in particular. BUT this list features foods for other occults, too!

credit of course goes to all of the wonderful mod creators, and i want to credit those who have made mod lists before me as i was heavily inspired by those lists.

#i'm sorry if this is messy #my head is fuzzy today but i wanted to get it done #i'll try my best to keep this updated!#especially for werewolves whenever more mods come out for them #ts4 #the sims 4 #simblr #mod list #mods

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slayfics · 5 months

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Explosive Tendencies a slow burn fanfic about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.

Chapter four: You study with Katsuki.

Chapter links

With the completion of the internships, the end-of-term tests were coming up. You sat at your desk studying but couldn't help but wonder how your classmates were doing.

Everyone had gone into a frenzy in class about meeting up to study and being prepared. Multiple students had planned to go over to Momo's since she was at the top of the class. But since you weren't explicitly invited, you didn't want to show up. You still hadn't really connected too much with your other classmates.

You also overheard Eijiro and Katsuki make plans to study at a diner today. Fuck it I'll show up there, you thought. Katsuki did kind of owe you for fixing his hair anyway. Worst case if they seemed super irritated by it you could play it off as if you were just going to that diner regardless. That seemed a lot easier than randomly showing up at Momo's house considering you hadn't even spoken to her much yet.

You made your way over to the diner and almost as soon as you entered you were greeted with an overly enthusiastic "Hey!" that made you jump.

Eijiro had spotted you right away and waved at you to come over. Katsuki turned around with his usual annoyed expression to see who Eijiro had so openly invited to their table.

"Oh it's you," Katsuki mumbled.

"Hey, how's the studying going?" You asked, making your way over to their table.

"Uh, not so good," Eijiro laughed. "Bakugo's trying his best but I think I'm hopeless. Sit down and join us!" He said, smiling at you.

You reluctantly sat down next to Eijiro feeling a bit anxious. Aside from the times Katuski had snuck into your room, this was the first time you had spent outside of the classroom with any of your classmates.

"I'm kind of surprised you're not at Yaoyorozu's with everyone else," Eijiro stated.

"I wasn't really invited, and I didn't want to just invite myself like everyone else," You replied.

"You had no problem inviting yourself here," Katsuki said, looking up at you from his book.

You felt frozen, guess you didn't pull off pretending to just accidentally come to the same diner.

"Ah don't be so mean Bakugo, maybe they can help me. I know you are at your wits end with me," Eijiro said, laughing.

"Yeah whatever," Katsuki grumbled.

"Now that I think about it, I guess I really haven't seen you hang out with the others much," Eijiro stated curiously.

You're face flushed at his words, was it really that obvious that you hadn't befriended anyone in your class? "I uh.. well..." You stuttered trying to figure out how to answer him.

"Hey dumb ass, are you going to chat their ear off all day or are we going to study?" Katsuki barked at him.

"Right! Let's get back to it then," Eijiro said, focusing back on his book.

The three of you studied for almost the whole day. It surprised you to see how intelligent Katsuki was, his delivery was always harsh though. He'd get frustrated easily when Eijiro couldn't pick up on something right away, but you were able to explain in a calmer manner and that seemed to help.

Although, it did still take Eijiro an extended amount of time to fully understand concepts. With the sun going down you three decided it was time to finish up.

"Wow, ok I feel prepared for the written test now! I'm just worried about the test exercises," Eijiro said.

"It'll be fine shitty hair, you worry too much. You'll both do fine, and I’ll finally be able to show everyone how worthless that nerd Deku is and how much better I am than that Icyhot bastard," Katsuki replied.

You sighed, “Bakugo I already told you- I’m pretty sure everyone knows you would have beat Todoroki regardless of him using both sides or not.”

“Hm?” Eijiro looked at you both curiously. “Told him before? You two have hung out before?” He asked.

Your face flushed at Eijiro’s correct assumption and you weren’t sure how to respond. It seemed a little suspicious to say the truth- that Katsuki had snuck into your room three times now.

“Don’t be so nosy dumb ass,” Katsuki grumbled at him.

“Oh right-! Sorry! Anyway… Maybe the test exercise will be a team exercise and we'll get paired together or something! After today I'd say the three of us make a good team," Eijiro said smiling.

You smiled back at him unsure of how to respond to so much positivity. Katsuki just rolled his eyes at Eijrio.

It was striking how night and day it was between Eijiro's cheery demeanor and Katsuki's quick temper.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @anon-mouse223

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writingquestionsanswered · 23 days

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I was wondering, why does it feel like I can't write good original fiction or original characters, but my fanfiction is great (imo anyway, which I never feel for my original fiction)? In some senses, I get it, like I feel I really know the characters in other people's fiction after seeing them through their story, but like....ugh. It's really frustrating. Do I just not understand how to develop an original character? Am I overcomplicating things?

Fan-Fiction: Struggling with Writing Original Fiction Characters

All of the above... ♥

So, yes, you're probably overcomplicating things a bit, but also it actually is hard for a lot of writers to make the switch between writing canon characters and developing their own original characters. In other words, what you're experiencing isn't unusual and it's absolutely surmountable. :)

One of the things I love about fan-fiction for newer writers is it allows you to focus fully on the mechanics of writing without having to divert effort toward things like world building and character development. The problem with that, though, is once you make the switch from writing fan-fiction to writing original fiction, you might find that your world building and character development skills are lagging behind. It sounds like this might be the situation in your case.

This is why I think it's a great idea to experiment with writing OCs, or in other words "original characters" as part of your fan-fiction. You don't even have to post these stories if you don't want to--write them for yourself, for practice. But, creating an original character to join your favorite canon characters is a great way to get practice in character creation and development while still within the comfy zone of your fan-fiction. Just by virtue of having to exist in the canon world, you have a little bit of a template to follow as far as who this character can be and what they can do. But, you have some freedom with things like back story, internal conflict, and character arc. Writing OCs in fan-fiction helps you hone those skills and learn to create characters you love without tossing yourself into the deep end.

And, if you need practice with setting development/world building, you can do that within fan-fiction, too. Try moving the canon characters into a new time, world, or situation. For example, what if the characters of The Hunger Games were survivors of a modern day shipwreck in the South Pacific? Or, what if the characters from ACOTAR lived in a Dune-like world, with different planets and starships and great houses? In this scenario, you can focus more on world building and plot without having to worry as much about character design and development.

So... no matter what, the reality is you'll just have to be patient with yourself. Whether you choose to hone your character development skills through writing fan-fiction OCs, or whether you keep at it with original fiction characters, it's going to take some time for you to develop those skills. It will be frustrating because you'll know that these characters aren't hitting the mark you want them to, but that's also good, because knowing they're falling short means you can try to figure out why and what you can do to fix it.

And, if you need additional help, you can always visit my Character Development master list of posts.

I hope that helps!

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silvergreenseraphim · 3 months

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The First Soldier: Chapter Six

Japanese highlights + analysis

Hi guys! Okay, let’s look right into this chapter-

Opening with Team Glenn, we learn some small details. The Shinra dig will start soon, and Glenn marvels at how fast everything is moving. Matt credits Shinra power, Glenn credits their hard work as a team, and Lucia credits Sephiroth, who did most of the work. Glenn, being more humble now, admits that he cannot deny it, and remembers that he must tell Sephiroth about the payment.

However, he notes that Sephiroth does not seem interested in money. This is one of the first hints throughout this chapter that Team Glenn still do not fully understand what Sephiroth is to Shinra. It is a subtle but reoccurring pattern, particularly when the notion of “being fired” comes into play later on.

The English in this scene was good. No major changes.

The chief engineer calls the team over and reprimands them for being too relaxed, saying that they need to do their jobs and clear out the monsters near the living quarters. Glenn awkwardly agrees to get back to patrolling, but first he asks,

“Hey, have you seen our squad leader?”

The engineer responds,

“If you mean that kid, isn’t he still out looking through the bodies? It’s disgusting. Please make him stop.“

Glenn is surprised and says, “Sephiroth is rummaging through the corpses?”

Matt notes that Sephiroth does often disappear/go off on his own, and Lucia says to look for him on their patrol.

(Seeing how the other Shinra employees behave and speak helped me see why Sephiroth had no luck asking around about his mother. They are only there to do their jobs, and don’t understand the child SOLDIER at all. It is very much an indifferent workforce).

Next is the scene where we learn about the materia fragments that were shattered over time. This scene adds greater weight to the mako spring discussion in the Nibelheim flashback, where Sephiroth comments that the condensed formation must have taken ages. It takes a very long time for even small bits to form, and even then they can shatter.

There is the silly bit of banter between the team about using diversion pebbles/materia fragments, but I must note again that Glenn seems calmer and less cocky even in his jesting.

Then Lucia becomes visibly concerned and says,

“Looking through corpses…I wonder if he’s really doing that…”

Glenn responds,

“The chief engineer is just joking around right? There’s no way he (Sephiroth) would do something like that.”

Matt agrees that there would be no need for it, and the team moves forward.

(It is very wholesome to see them believe only the best of Sephiroth despite what others think, and they are more perceptive and accurate about him anyway. This story constantly leads the audience to worry that Sephiroth always held darker traits before immediately disproving these concerns or at least showing that his reasons were always understandable. Team Glenn speaks for the more optimistic viewers at this point).

Of course little Sephiroth is caught undeniably searching a body, and Glenn questions him in surprise. Sephiroth is confused at first, but then acknowledges that it does look wrong. Lucia asks him if he is looking for something. Sephiroth says,

“I lost the pendant with my mother's photo in it.. . . . . .I was looking for it. I was checking to see if someone might have picked it up and had it on them…”

(So, a small translation nuance; it is clear in Japanese that Sephiroth dropped it and believed that someone could have picked it up. He is not just looking under bodies, he is going through their pockets and all to see if anyone has it with them.)

Sephiroth chuckles and admits,

“Haha, I suppose I am a corpse-scavenger…“

(This is another case of Sephiroth’s childlike innocence mingling with his very dark reality. He lost his most precious possession like a normal child would, but now has to search for it among the dead that he himself laid to waste).

When the others understand, Glenn says,

“Alright, let’s look for it while we kill monsters.”

And Sephiroth replies,

“Thank you very much…that helps…“

The team moves on to kill monsters and search.

Glenn notes the lesser number of bodies and Sephiroth points out that it was because of the monsters. Glenn shudders to think of dying in the area, but Sephiroth takes the opportunity to beseech them to not let their guard down. He says,

“You all seem to be feeling a little relaxed. You can never be too careful. You must protect yourself. If you don't apply this basic rule...”

Right then a monster swoops in and Sephiroth kills it, stunning the others. He concludes with, “…then even I can’t protect you.”

Glenn asks, “So, you’re protecting us?”

Sephiroth walks up to him and responds,

“It’s because you’re my team.”

They are interrupted by more monsters, but when the fighting ends, Matt repeats what Sephiroth said.

“I’ll protect you because you’re my team…”

Matt glares at Glenn and says,

“I’d like to hear that from a team-leader I know who previously threatened to hit one of his own squad members…”

Lucia chimes in with the comment about that same team-leader making them be near his gross socks.

(They are both referencing the first chapter of the game, where Glenn’s outburst on the helicopter made it appear as though he were going to punch Matt, and when Glenn made a joke about his socks being so bad that they would pull Lucia out of shell-shock).

Sephiroth looks up at Glenn while shaking his head and laughs, saying,

“Ha…that’s the worst.”

Glenn remarks,

“But it’s “memorable,” isn’t it?”

Sephiroth thinks for a moment and says,

“Yes, I see. So, that team-leader fears being forgotten…”

This observation strikes Matt and even Glenn. They appear to rethink Glenn’s leadership style. Glenn does not protest the observation, but he ponders it.

(I found it sweet that Sephiroth did not judge Glenn, but pointed out what is likely a true insecurity of Glenn’s, but in a very mild and childlike way. Part of me even wonders if Sephiroth understood the fear because he too had struggled with it. After all, adult Sephiroth refused to be a memory even post-insanity.)

(Also, it is hard to fully explain, but reading this text in Japanese—it becomes easier to see how it is not just Glenn that influences Sephiroth, but also the other way around. It’s strange but…it feels as though Glenn has become…softer? Even when alone with his team, he is not disrespecting them so much or being so brash. It was his meeting with Rosen that helped him to develop sympathy for the “enemy” and it was Sephiroth that helped Glenn become kinder to his team. Even the way he speaks seems gentler.

In the last chapter, Glenn was so harsh towards Seph at the beginning, but learned remorse and how to apologize when Sephiroth’s vulnerability was showcased. In this chapter, Sephiroth is the one to understand that Glenn might have been such a brash leader because he feared being forgotten, which was a very perceptive and empathetic observation, causing even Matt to reconsider. It was a very heart-warming scene).

(The next sequence is devastating and I believe it caused some minor controversy with fans because of how Glenn speaks, but I can affirm that the tone in Japanese seems to aim for sympathetic character development. As I mentioned before, Glenn is different to the character we first met, and his arc is becoming more clear as we move forward.)

As the squad looks through the bodies, Glenn notices that there were not many Rhadoran remnants left, and Matt suspects it was because of their living conditions and the endless battle with monsters. Glenn remarks that it must have been a hard lifestyle. He then says,

“...I don't really understand why Rhadore hated the Mako reactors…I mean, there's no such thing as convenient (as the reactors), right?”

They are swiftly interrupted again by monsters, causing Sephiroth to say that they seem more interested than usual.

“The monsters seem more interested than usual.”

“They’re excited about live bait!” Glenn says.

“If you want to be bait, I won't stop you, but as a SOLDIER, please fight first.” Sephiroth urges.

When they clear out the area again, Matt considers the similarities between the Rhadoran believes and “Planetology” or the “study of the star.”

“When a person dies, their life returns to the planet with their consciousness and heart and intersects with the energy of life circulating around the planet. The idea is that a new life will eventually be born from it. The life around this planet is what they call “qi” (mana). The “qi” going around the planet enriches people and nature and the planet itself. It would be unthinkable for Rhadore to consume such an irreplaceable energy.”

Glenn is still confused, and then Sephiroth interjects with,

“Dr. Hojo talked to me about this…

“No matter how rationally and logically we explain things, there are people we will not be able to share understanding with. That is because they see the world differently.””

Glenn argues that such things won’t matter if someone dies, and that it would just be better to accept an easy life instead of fighting so hard against it. He points out that Rosen is the only one left, and says that if the Rhadoran beliefs are true, what will become of the last Rhadoran boy when he dies? When he is gone, no one will be left, and people will forget Rhadore.

Sephiroth sadly shakes his head and turns away, saying that,

“The planet remembers…I am certain that is what the people of Rhadore believe…”

Glenn receives his epiphany, and understands that the Rhadorans resisted the consumption of mana/mako because it would erase all memories of life. He is suddenly overcome with sadness and turns to kneel and honor the fallen soldiers. The others do the same.

(This scene was, in my opinion, intended to deliver a strong message, but was maybe limited by the story-telling style. Some people were shocked by Glenn’s questioning why the Rhadorans all died for their beliefs when he is with the very company that wiped them out. But I think it does help to remember that this war between Shinra and Wutai was something that soldiers like Glenn and his team only had seen one side of until this point. They were a survey team working for money after all, not the ones directly sent to kill the Rhadorans until Sephiroth arrived, who did most of the work anyway, and even shocked the others with his conditioned ruthlessness in the previous chapter.

Shinra is a propaganda monster, and undoubtedly played off the war as something the Wutaians started and were responsible for, as well as the Rhadorans. It does sound like Glenn is genuinely confused here, especially as someone who was probably used to Shinra being the default government for everything.

“Why would these people willingly die and fight Shinra for trying to make their lives easier?”

But that is the simple darkness of imperialism. Shinra was going to erase something very important to the Rhadorans for the sake of “convenience.”

Glenn only sees this after Sephiroth himself acknowledges the Rhadoran faith. This is where a change of heart occurs. The Rhadorans were fighting for a genuine reason. Of course they were.

I actually felt this was a very meaningful sequence after translating it. Very good attempt at addressing imperialist destruction.)

Afterwards, they keep up the search and Matt asks if Sephiroth is sure he dropped the necklace in the building they are in. He says he had it before the ruins, so he is sure it must have been in the building. Lucia explains that it might be difficult to find if they haven’t already. Sephiroth tiredly shakes his head and says,

“It’s okay. Thanks to everyone for looking together, I think I’m about ready to give it up.”

He is saying that since everyone looked at the same time, he is ready to accept that he has to let the photo go. If they can’t find it together, then it is truly lost. The others become downcast on his behalf, and then Glenn moves over to one of the dead soldiers. He suggests they bury them as a way to say sorry, though he is not sure if that is their custom. Either way, Sephiroth immediately says that he will help, and Glenn is grateful.

The next scene was clearly translated into English. As they bury the bodies, the dig begins and Sephiroth explains that they will need to evacuate to the sky in thirty minutes, thanks to a possible mako eruption or “torrent of qi” caused by Shinra’s explosives. Glenn remembers Rosen’s words, and Sephiroth says they need to hurry.

The following sequence is endearing as Sephiroth makes shortcuts for the team. He reveals a unique power that allows him to create great bursts of energy from simple materia fragments. The others are stunned. Glenn, in particular, cannot believe it even after Sephiroth explains. He says,

“No, it’s impossible! Sephiroth, you’re amazing!!”

In the next scene, Glenn is initially ready to chop down a tree to form a bridge across a river, but Sephiroth steps in and says his way will be quicker. Where before, Glenn would have been eager to lead the way, he kindly steps aside and lets Sephiroth take over. Glenn is once again verbally supportive, and says,

“Ha! As expected.”

Sephiroth says,

“As expected of a modified human (cyborg), right?”

Glenn says wasn’t going to say that, nor was he thinking it. Sephiroth says,

“Really?….I’m a little disappointed…”

Glenn is confused and Sephiroth shakes his head,

“I don’t really understand it myself…”

Bringing his head low and his hand to his heart again, he guesses,

“It’s just…nothing you guys say makes me feel bad, so I want you to be able to say anything…”

(The English got the point across as well, but Seph is sincerely saying that he trusts them because they don’t say things that hurt him, so he doesn’t want them to feel as if they need to hold back their thoughts. He is pointing out that he has grown to feel safe with them because they are not malicious with their words. It feels like he discovers the idea of trust in relationships right here).

Glenn perks up and says,

“Alright then, I’ll tell you what I think!! I’m counting on you, squad-leader! Now, let’s go!”

Sephiroth enthusiastically responds with “Yes!” and they move on.

The waterfall scene is largely the same. Glenn fully goes to Sephiroth to lead this time and hands him the materia fragment. He asks if Sephiroth can use it like before, and in Japanese, Sephiroth endearingly says he doesn’t want to “make things go boom” but that he has an idea. He freezes the waterfall and Glenn voices his praise again.

When they finally draw close, Glenn stops to think of Rosen, but Sephiroth urges him to hurry. When they get to the overlook, it becomes clear that Glenn and the others are struggling with remorse over the Rhadorans and Rosen being in danger. They exchange glances and Glenn almost says something to Sephiroth, but stops himself.

Sephiroth himself is far more concerned about them, his team, and their safety. The divide is obvious, and a choice will have to be made.

They arrive as the last ones to the Shinra helicopter and the engineer is ready for them to evacuate, but Glenn begs the man to delay the dig so that he can go and warn Rosen, thus setting his plans in motion without forewarning Sephiroth. The engineer refuses despite Glenn’s pleas and brings up the amount of money Shinra has put into the program. Glenn shouts,

“This isn’t about the money!”

And punches the engineer, much to Matt and Lucia’s exasperation.

The engineer says,

“I'll report you to headquarters! I can even have you fired.”

Glenn does not care. It is the first time we have seen him willingly dismiss money and fight for something else. He tells the engineer to get on the other helicopter, and Matt tells Lucia to make her decision. She apologizes to Sephiroth and hi-jacks the copter. Sephiroth simply turns his back quietly.

The final Stamp battle occurs afterwards as an interruption, and the team finishes the job, with more remorse from Glenn about messing with Stamp’s island. Then the engineer flies overhead and drops down the ladder, offering one more chance. Lucia says,

“Will Sephiroth also be disposed of?”

Matt reminds her,

“It’s okay, we’re the only ones at fault. There are witness too.”

With this, the team says goodbye to their leader, and Glenn tells him,

”Sephiroth, take care! Don’t overdo it/push yourself too much!”

They run off, leaving Sephiroth to evacuate, but he hesitates. The engineer shouts,

“Hurry up and get on, hero!”

But our hero can’t leave his friends just yet!

He runs up to them and Glenn is surprised. He says,

“You came…….are you sure? If you get on this helicopter, you could get fired, right?”

And the chapter ends with Sephiroth’s simple reply,

“I’m special.”

Glenn just laughs.

—

This appears to be a direct reference to Sephiroth’s future statement about always knowing he was special or different since he was a child.

The word is the same.

“Exceptional, unique, beyond ordinary…”

But this line from Sephiroth is actually more upsetting to me than funny or cocky, because yes, there is indeed a chance he is merely being proud about being able to get away with his current actions due to his status as Shinra’s hero, but…

There is also the chance he knows he cannot be fired or disposed of because Shinra would never let him leave. They have control over him. He is different or special in that sense too. He is a prized possession, unlike the others.

I have yet to see, but I wonder if Sephiroth knows that he is risking severe punishment for his actions by helping his team and will not be met with a simple lay-off, but since this is his last chance to help and be with his team, he is ready to pay the price. If they are fired, he may not see them again. Now is his chance.

His hesitation at the helicopter is sincere. He clasps at his heart and everything. I don’t believe he is being light-hearted when he tells Glenn he is different. In the English, it came off more prideful, as though Seph were daring Shinra to come after him. In Japanese, I get the feeling he is making a sacrifice.

Sephiroth also believes it is his job to protect his team. If Shinra tries to harm them, he will have to face that. I fear that for now, Sephiroth has not learned that Shinra will not just punish him, but they can also kill people he considers friends.

I also think this chapter was full of foreshadowing.

Even the scenes with Glenn praising Sephiroth and making an effort to do it honestly and constantly felt as though it were meant to be a contrast for what could be shown later if the Shinra higher-ups appear and catch Sephiroth in the act of treason.

I am very proud of him, but I am very concerned for him now.

(I have more thoughts on Sephiroth’s relationship with Team Glenn after this chapter, but I will save it for another post! Hope you guys enjoy this one in the mean time!)

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spectersgirl · 6 months

Note

Harvey and the reader get into an agrument (something juicy? About scottie?)at the office and she storms off.

And welcome to the perfect plot for part 2 of my mini-series! If you didn’t read part one, here it is

I didn't really proofread this too much so if you see something that doesn't make sense, no you didn't <3

This part is angst but it does have a happy ending

Something More (p2)

Harvey Specter x Reader

———

It had been six months since that first night with Harvey, and ever since then he’d been nothing short of a perfect gentleman. He made it a point to always open the car door for you, made surprise dinner reservations after secretly checking your calendar, and you frequently came into your office to find flowers, breakfast, coffee, or just little notes from him. They were little things, but they were things that no guy had ever done for you before. You never exactly announced your relationship to the office, but everyone had mostly figured out that something had been going on.

"Oooh those are pretty, I wonder who those are from" Rachel teased as she walked into your office, nodding at the rather large vase full of flowers. She knew about you and Harvey, of course.

"Check out the card, it says it's from a secret admirer" You said, handing her the card that came with the flowers.

“For the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I am so lucky to know you” she read the card aloud. "So I take it things are still going well with you two?"

"Honestly, things are really great. I know it’s pretty early still but, I can’t help but feel like this is the real deal. We've been opening up a lot to each other, he's been really sweet." You gushed.

"That's amazing! How did it go after he told you about Scottie? I mean I don't even know how I'd react"

You were puzzled, of course you knew about Scottie, everyone in the office knew about her and Harvey’s former relationship. For Rachel to bring her up like this, something else had to have happened.

"Told me... what about Scottie exactly?"

Rachel's froze, realizing that Harvey in fact had not told you about the recent development regarding his ex-girlfriend.

"Um, she's going up against Harvey on a case. She'll be in the office this week for a deposition. I'm sorry Y/N, I really thought you knew." Rachel apologized, feeling awful she had to be the one to break the news to you.

You’d known about his history with Scottie for a while now, he’d mentioned her to you and, through the work grapevine, you’d gathered that at one time Scottie meant the world to Harvey. The logical part of your brain knew that he wouldn’t leave you to go back her, but the fact that he hid it from you that she was coming into the office, gave you a pit in your stomach anyways.

"It's ok Rachel, don't worry about it. On an unrelated note, I'm going to see Harvey. Thanks for letting me know." You said, standing and smoothing out your dress before marching down to Harvey's office.

He looked up too briefly to notice the look on your face before he spoke.

"Hey babe, sorry I didn't come see you yet today, I've just been swamped."

"So swamped you couldn't seem to find the time to tell me you have a case against Scottie?"

"Excuse me?"

"Harvey, why did I have to find out about your ex-girlfriend coming into our workplace from someone who isn't you?" You pressed further, the anger bubbling inside your chest.

The look on Harvey's face was one you'd never seen pointed in your direction before, but you weren't about to back down.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't think it mattered!" He said, raising his voice now.

"Why would you think that wouldn't matter to me? You had a serious relationship with her and she's opposing counsel on your case, that's something you should at least consider sharing with the person you're dating!"

"What exactly do you think is going to happen in that room? I have work to do during a deposition, and the last thing that would ever be on my mind is sleeping with another woman who isn't you!"

"It isn't you I don't trust Harvey! How do you not see that? I don't know this woman, how could you expect me to trust her? I know she was in love with you, and I know that things have heated up with you two during cases in the past. I don't understand how you're blaming me for feeling like this."

He sighed, clearly irritated. He focused his attention back on the paperwork he had on the desk, not even bothering to look up at you as he spoke. His voice was quieter now, but still every bit as angry.

"I can't believe you're being this insecure over something so stupid. If you can't believe me when I say that I won’t allow anything to happen between me and Scottie ever again, then maybe we shouldn’t be together after all. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not that guy, and I thought you knew me better than that." He responded coldly.

You scoffed in shock. You couldn't believe he was actually serious in turning this around on you. Your stomach turned now.

"Insecure? Right, okay. You know what, why don't you call me when you have your shit together enough to figure out why I'm angry right now, and why that was fucked up of you to say." You said loudly, turning on your heel and storming off, back to your office.

You faintly heard him call your name as you walked, but you didn’t dare turn back, and he didn't follow either.

Not two minutes after you returned to your desk, Donna was in your doorway, a sheepish look on her face.

"Donna, it wasn't your fault." You said, not giving her a chance to even blame herself.

"I know, but I should've known he hadn't told you. I told him you'd want to know, I just figured maybe he'd listen for once." She explained.

You sighed, your eyes landing on the vase of flowers from that morning. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes, but you were fighting them hard.

"For what it's worth, he may be an ass but I know he cares about you, more than anyone I’ve seen him with. He can't see anyone else now that he's with you, I really wouldn't worry about Scottie. Harvey shouldn’t have said what he said to you, that was totally out of line. He’ll figure it out soon and probably come baring more flowers.”

The dam broke, and the tears fell. The hurt you still felt from Harvey’s words combined with Donna’s reassurances were too much.

"Thanks Donna" You said, sniffling.

She gave a sad smile before letting you know she had to get back to work, leaving you with a ‘hang in there’ as she departed.

You took a few deep breaths and wiped your tears before getting back to work, throwing yourself deep into your files. Maybe not the best coping mechanism, but it kept you busy enough to not think about Harvey. This worked for a little while, but slowly his harsh words would creep back into your mind, making you cry fresh tears all over again.

As time went on and the sun had long gone down, you felt your head start to pound. The time on your laptop showed 9:15 pm. You stretched a little, deciding to call it a night and head for home. It seemed that everyone else had left the office a while ago, if the silence of the halls rather than the typical hustle and bustle was any indication. The closer you got to the end of the hall, however, you heard music floating through the silence. If the office at the end of the hall belonged to anyone other than Harvey, you’d think this was the beginning of a ghost story about a haunted office building. The melody was somber. You walked forward, slower now, as you neared his office.

“Shit, why is he still here?” You thought. “He’s normally gone by 8 latest”

You stood there in the hall only inches from his door, debating on what to do. You knew he’d see you when you walked by, and even if he didn’t he would surely hear the elevator ding.

As you weighed the possible outcomes, you really had no time to react when you saw him suddenly walk out of his office, pausing too when he noticed you.

“Oh, Y/N. Hey, I was just coming to see if you were still here.”

“I was just going home.”

“Your home? Or mine?” He asked, in a tone that sounded like he didn’t want to know the answer.

You’d been sleeping at Harvey’s many nights since you started dating, in fact you weren’t even certain of the last time you’d slept in your own bed.

“Mine. After what you said to me, I don’t think I feel welcome at yours right now.”

It was only then that Harvey took in your appearance, and his heart dropped. You looked completely exhausted, the mascara on your eyes was long gone, and your cheeks and eyes were tinted red. He knew you’d been crying, and the look on his face was one of pure agony. He felt awful.

“I… Y/N I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Scottie. I just really didn’t think you’d care since I know how much I trust you. I lashed out and I yelled at you, and I shouldn't have done that. I didn’t think about your perspective, and I’m just so sorry. I never should’ve said that stuff to you" He said, slightly out of breath from his passion.

Tears openly fell from your eyes once again as you listened. You stepped forward, not responding. He reached for you, wiping the tears gently from your cheeks. You buried your face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around you firmly. He rested his chin on the top of your head, whispering how sorry he was.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly after a moment of silence.

“Please”

He didn’t waste another second before locking your lips with his. The kiss was full of longing and despair.

“I thought I lost you, and it was all my fault. I've never felt like this about anyone else, and the second I realized what I did I felt sick that I made you feel that way. I didn't know what to do.” Harvey rambled.

“Shhh, Harvey, It’s okay now. I’m right here, and I'm not going to leave you.”

He sighed in relief, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again and looking into yours.

"What did I do to deserve you?"

"It helps that you're handsome." You said, a smile growing on your lips.

Harvey chuckled, placing a hand on your lower back and walking you into his office so he could grab his stuff and lead you to the elevators.

"I'd love to have you over tonight, but I understand if you're not ready."

You smiled, grabbing his hand and kissing the back of it.

"If you want me to come, then I'd love to come over"

"Good. I don't think I could've gone another minute without you"

#harvey specter #harvey specter suits #harvey specter x reader #suits fics #harveyspecter #angst with a happy ending #fluff

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lixzey · 6 months

Text

Letters

info: mentions of blood, car accident, foster home, and death

The Eleventh Letter

Timothée Chalamet is one of the most loved actors in the world. He had girls all over the world who love him. But there's one girl, the most special in his eyes. Not that he's biased—or maybe he is, but Y/N made him feel things no other girl ever had. Timothée had dated his fair share of women: Madonna's daughter: Lourdes, Johnny Depp's daughter: Lily-Rose, hell he even dated Kylie Jenner. But none of them compare to Y/N L/N.

Yes, she was hurting—he couldn't deny that she was broken but Timothée hoped that she was alright and still breathing the same air as him. He wanted to help her or whatever it was she wanted. He didn't understand it, she was just another fan in the eyes of everyone else. Yet, here he was flying half across the continent to find her even if he had no clue whether she was at the address his Private Investigator found or not. It was a huge leap of faith, but he didn't mind. He needed to find her, he needed to let her know that he was listening, he needed to be there for her during her battles. But, what would happen when he finally sees her? Would she be happy?

Would he be devastated? Timothée looked at her picture again. Her beautiful smile, he could've sworn her laugh could light up the whole room. He wanted to run his fingers through her long hair—which made him feel like a creep for wanting to do that to a girl who he'll meet for the very first time. He wondered what it would feel like to have her in his arms. Y/N looked delicate like a flower—and if he'd wrap her in his arms, she would break. But deep down, Timothée knew that wasn't the case. Y/N was strong and brave, like a soldier going into war. Though, he still wanted to comfort her and tell her that everything would be alright and soon daylight will come.

Timothée closed his wallet and put it back in his pocket. He then reached for the eight unopened letters in his carry on backpack. He took the eleventh letter from the stack, and put the rest back. Timothée gently ripped open the envelope, it was dated August 5th, 2023.

Dear Timothée,

Can you keep a secret?

I want to tell you everything. I want to tell you everything so badly, I want you to understand who I am, who I was, and who I'm going to be.

Well, here it goes. I hope you don't 'betray' me. Who am I kidding? Anyways….

I was ten. I was ten fucking years old when life decided to fuck me up. My parents died in a car accident. I was in that accident, unfortunately, I survived. My mother used her body as a shield to protect me. I was crying loud because I was scared—what kid wouldn't be scared? My mother was bleeding, my father was unconscious, and still my mother was whispering softly in my ear that everything was going to be okay. Everything else was a blur, that's all that I remembered. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital—alone and confused.

I always ask myself, “Why did it have to be me?” I used to be this happy kid, with a happy family. And now? I'm this broken girl who doesn't know what else to do with her life.

You might as now call me The Girl Who Lived. Yeah, yeah, I know I quoted Harry Potter.

My parents couldn't have any children. My mother had been told that it was nearly impossible for her to bear a child, but then after years of trying, I was born.

I was a miracle, their little miracle. I was almost named Miracle, you know. My parents said I brought light into their lives. I made everything in their lives brighter and full of meaning. I was the gift they waited so long for.

My life was full of love and happiness. I grew up seeing my parents be in love. I always wanted to fall in love like how my parents did, as a kid I thought of their love story as something that came out of a fairytale book. It's kinda cliché, but I loved it. They started out in college as pen pals, it was random really, because my father wasn't supposed to get my mother's letters because they were for someone else, who had the same name as my father. They exchanged letters without my mother knowing that the one who's replying to her letters wasn't the one she really intended. But they fell in love. Yeah, my mom did get mad at my dad for lying, but dad was persistent. He apologized every day for that until they graduated college. After college, they met again at a café where mom worked. Sparks flew, and after two years they got married. After six years, they had me. Ten years later, they died.

I wish I had died in that accident too. I wouldn't have spent the past eleven years in complete misery. Two days after my parents' funeral, I was sent to a foster home, until my aunt from my father's side could pick me up.

The day my aunt picked me up, my life became hell.

I can't write anymore Tim, fuck. I'm sorry, I just can't write anymore—tears are clouding my vision. I'll tell you more in my next letter, I promise.

All my love,

Y/N, The Girl Who Should've Died.

p.s: sorry for the tear stains.

Timothée stared at the tear stains at the end of the paper—he could feel her pain just by looking at how much her tears stained the paper. He let out a shaky breath, before tucking the letter back in its envelope. He then looked at the remaining seven letters, waiting to be read. Timothée wanted to just teleport to where this girl was, if she was okay or not—he really wanted to hug her tight. This girl, Y/N, went through so much at a young age. He thought about what could possibly have happened when she started to live with her aunt. He assumed that her aunt mistreated her, and he felt a surge of anger course through his veins. How could someone hurt a child who had lost her parents? He wanted to hurt them, hell he wanted to punch someone right then and there on the plane. He was fuming, he was having trouble calming down. If he didn't he'd get arrested, and that won't be good. Timothée took a deep breath and opened his wallet again. The sight of Y/N's smile calmed him down.

“Y/N, oh Y/N. Why do you make me feel like this?” Timothée muttered, the pad of his thumb caressing the photo as if he was trying to wipe her tears away. Timothée wanted nothing more than to be there for her right now. Before Y/N's letters, he was a normal guy—a normal actor, technically—but Y/N made him travel across the country just to find her, or even get a glimpse of her. There was something, and that something was pulling him in deep—deeper than he had ever been before.

Who would've thought that Timothée Chalamet would fall in love with a girl who wrote him letters?

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @bobthe-turmpetman29

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anxious-witch · 4 months

Text

Sooo, since like, literally three people asked(like I need more enabling lmao) here is a drabble/snippet from poly!JO soulmate au from August. It isn't finished and kinda a kess so read at your own risk, definitely not up to my usual quality.

Tw for alcohol, vomiting, character's drink being spiked (if I forgot anything, please let me know)

Bojan was born with four stripes on his stomach. Yellow, red, purple and blue. It reminded him of a mini rainbow. When he was little he used to trace them. Wondering how it related to his soulmate.

His parents seemed reluctant to tell him. And Bojan didn't understand. Not until his sister pulled him aside one day before he started school and explained. Soulmate marks indicated something about his soulmate, but his was special. Bojan remembered that she specifically used the word special.

Not weird, not odd. Special.

She said that since his has more than one color, it probably means more than one soulmate. That there was nothing wrong eith that, but that he had to be careful since not everyone would understand.

She told him it was easy enough to cover with clothes, but in case he needed to, she showed him how to hide it with makeup.

Bojan hadn't been seven for awhile now. He was twenty four and he understood much, much better why his sister was so careful about all of it. At best, people with multiple marks were looked down upon. And Bojan didn't always have the best of luck, either.

He wished he could say that the reason he wanted to convince Kris to join the band was purely because of talent. Not that Kris wasn't extremly talented because he was. Bojan was already laying groundwork to ask him to join. And then Kris tied his hair back in a ponytail, revealing his soulmark.

Four stripes. Red, pink, purple and blue. Perfectly lined up.

Bojan had to swallow past the lump in his throat. Found one of you.

He didn't want Kris to join the band because of that thiugh. So instead he did his best to charm him. Teasing and laughing and promising. Kris agreed, under the condition that Jan may join too.

"He is my best friend and my soulmate. I am not going anywhere without him."

How could have Bojan refused?

Kris and Jan were polar opposites that somehow managed to work in perfect harmony. Kris charmed you with his cute laugh and politeness, while Jan disarmed you with flirting and downright filthy things he could say with a straight face.

Bojan planned on telling them about his mark. He really did. It was just that everytime he tried, fear of rejection wrapped itself over his chest.

What if they didn't want him? What if it would make things weird?

He was a coward. He knew as much. He just couldn't bring himself to tell them.

His mark ached sometimes. Especially when he saw how gently Jan would kiss the mark on Kris's neck, or Kris wrapping his fingers around the one on Jan's wrist.

Jan made it worse with the way he wore his so openly. Like a badge of honor. Bojan suggested him to put a bracelet or some makeup on it once, to hide it.

He remembered Jan's fury to this day.

"What, do you have something against it? Do you think I should be fucking ashamed of my soulmates?"

Bojan took a step back, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

"No, of course not...I just think it might be wise not to show it off. People get beaten up for less. I don't want to see you hurt."

Jan looked at him for one very long moment. Bojan felt like he was being carved from inside out and examined.

"Let me worry about that. What business of yours is that, anyway?"

Bojan's mark pulsed under his shirt. He resisted the urge to rub the pain away. He shrugged.

"None."

They never spoke of it again. Years passed and Bojan got used to the yearing that came with being so close and yet so far.

And then Jure came along. Bojan was still sad because of Matic leaving. That's the only excuse he had for not noticing Jure's mark sooner.

It came to a head during summer vacation. Jure joined them at the pool. And on his leg, just under his knee, was a mark. Four strips. Yellow, pink, red and purple.

Bojan heard Kris gasp from somewhere far away. His own mark throbbed underneath the band aid he put on. The lie he said was that he had a scar from surgery that he didn't want to show. Jan teased him for being vain, but no one ever questioned it.

He and Martin exchanged a glance. Silently agreeing to leave and give them a moment. If Bojan's heart felt heavy or his mark burned, knowing he belonged there too, well. That was only for him to know.

Bojan was running out of excuses. Jure made a perfect new addition to Kris and Jan. While they certainly took some time to find a way to navigate a new configuration, they did work it out. Sometimes Bojan was so jealous he could taste it.

Which usually meant he got hammered and left with the first person who wanted to take him home and fuck him.

Other times, he just got hammered and called Luka through Skype. Luka who'd cursed him out and scolded him for being an idiot, but would still try and get him to take care of himself. Made sure he drank water and had a bucket nearby.

That was probably more than he deserved.

"So let me get this straight. Three of your soulmates recently got together. Which disproved your theory about them not wanting you because they are monogamous. Shocker, really. And instead of telling them now, you got hammer."

Bojan raised a finger in the air.

"And made out with a girl at the party in front of them."

Luka pinched his nose. He took a deep breath.

"And made out with a girl in front of them. Great! Lovely! What's the next step in your brilliant, self-destructive plan?"

Bojan shrugged. Luka sighed again.

"You are a menace. But you are also my friend. Which means I want you to be a happy menace. Please tell them."

"I'll think about it."

Luka shook his head and looked at him sadly.

"Sure you will."

---

He didn't end up telling them. In his defense, he really was preoccupied. Few days later, Martin told him he was leaving the band to concentrate on finishing college.

Bojan grieved the loss of another friend, as ridiculous as it sounded. While Kris and Jan loved Martin as well, it was different. They had each other and Jure now.

So Bojan arranged everything for Martin's last concert with them. And looked for the replacement. Which was how he found Nace.

Bringing Jan along was his first mistake. Perhaps if he hadn't it could have been avoided.

Nace fit into the criteria to perfectly replace Martin on stage. Jure even joked they looked similar enough that fans won't even notice the difference. Bojan would, though. He wasn't only losing a friend who he worked with since the beginning, but also his last line of defense.

His mark ached harder than before ever since Jure joined in.

He and Jan interviewed Nace and it was all going well. Bojan was finally starting to relax, realizing Nace would be a good fit. He was responsible, but knew how to joke still. They did need someone to keep them in check on occasion. And Nace didn't drink. His guitar skills were amazing too. All in all, perfect.

Up until he took off his leather jacket and stayed only in short sleeves. Showing off a soulmark on his right biceps.

Four stripes. Yellow, pink, red and blue. Bojan froze.

"Nace," Jan said, sounding almost breathless, "is that your soulmark?"

Nace looked at him in confusion. Jan raised his hand to show off his wrist and Nace's eyes widened.

"You are-"

"Yes. And I have found the other two. You are the forth."

Bojan felt like he was watching a private moment. Nace seems to be at a loss on what to say, simply looking at Jan like he was a miracle.

"So...only one remains."

A lump formed in Bojan's throat. His mark burned viciously. As if it was screaming: I am here! Bojan got up.

"I'll leave you to settle...um. This. I think we can conclude Nace is a good fit by what was said already anyway. Have fun."

Jan's heavy gaze followed him until he took a turn in the alley, away from the view of the café.

The next few weeks were torture. Watching them was torture. The way they all balanced each other perfectly. Jure's jokes and pranks contrasted Nace's mature, thought out responses. Kris' anxious energy was match by Jan's always relaxed state. They mixed and matched and still-

God, his mark burned. Bojan had too many moments where he had to excuse hinself and just breathe. Will the pain away.

They were all there. Missing only one puzzle piece. All he had to do was go there and tell them. Just-

"Bojan?" Nace gently called out, startling him.

He turned from where he was leaning on the sink in the kitch to face him. Nace was always so measured in his movements, in his words. He told that that was because he used to be wild in his teenage years. He appriciated measured, gebtle approach a lot more now.

"Sorry, I got lost in thought. Did you need something?"

"I just wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute?"

Bojan shrugged, even as his defense mechanisms rose up. Did he know? How would he have even realized? No. Impossible.

"Sure. Shoot."

Nace's gaze traveled over his face and Bojan had the urge to squirm. All of them were attractive of course, but Nace and Jan had this odd ability to make him feel like they knew all his secrets. Bojan didn't have time to unpack why he was bith terrified and attracted to the feeling.

"I know this whole thing can't be easy for you. With all of us being bonded, you must feel left out. And I am sorry if I contributed to that by joining the band."

Bojan bit his lip. Oh. That was so thoughtful. He felt even more guilty about lying now.

"It's not your fault. And I'm-I'm glad you guys found each other. It just gets a bit...much, sometimes."

Nace nodded.

"I can imagine. Kris told me you haven't found your own match yet, so it must be doubly hard for you."

God. He could just tell him. Bojan opened his mouth.

"Nace I-"

"Nace!"

Jure came running, to show Nace a very specific cat video. It broke their moment and Bojan's sudden bravery disappeared.

He didn't tell him.

Which was why he ended up at the bar again. This time, without any of them around. He chatted up a guy who vaguely reminded him of Nace. Accidentally of course.

It tricked his brain into feeling safe. So Bojan wasn't watching his drink as attentively as he should have.

He only realized his mistake when the room started to spin. Panic gripped him. If he went to the bathroom, he was going to show he was suspicious. But what could he do?

Now, Bojan will admit he wasn't someone who ever studied the soulmate bond. But even he knew about it. In theory. He tried to block in out of his mind most of the timez terrified of exposing himself.

But in his panic and confusion, he found it. He could feel faint flashes of what the other four felt. And he, idiotically, pushed all his fear and panic through the bond.

The closest way to describe the feeling was smashing the fire alarm.

Suddenly he could feel all of them. As if they they were reaching out to him. Jan's fierce protectiveness, Kris gentle reassurance. Jure's playfulness was there, even with his worry. And Nace was a warm, stable presence of comfort.

Bojan's phone rang. The guy he was drinking with seemed annoyed, but it gave him an excuse to step away and answer the phone.

He managed to make it out of the club, to the fresh, cold air.

"Hello?"

"Bojan, where are you?"

Jan's voice was sharp and urgent. It immediately brought tears to Bojan's eyes.

"At the bar near my apartment. I'm sorry I-I think the guy put something in my drink. Everything is kind of spinning and I swear I only had one drink! Jan, I'm scared."

He heard Jan swearing at the other end, and there was such an intense wave of protectivness that came through the bond that Bojan felt like it wrapped around him.

"It's okay. We are coming to get you. I will give Kris the phone now, okay? Stay on the line."

"Okay."

He sat on the ground, to get the spinning under control. He was so tired.

"Bojan? Can you hear me?"

"Kris," he sighed contentedly.

Kris had such a nice, soothing voice. Bojan wanted to fall asleep to him talking.

"Yes, it's me. Can you tell me how are you feeling?"

Bojan hummed, thoughtful. Woth everything they were feeling, it was hard to pinpoint how he felt.

"Tired. Kinda sick? Not like I'll throw up but like I didn't eat something right. And everything is still spinning."

Kris kept talking to him and asking him irrelevant questions just to keep him on the line. Bojan fought against drifting off, but it became harder.

"Kris," he whined, "I am so tired."

He gently shushed him.

"I know sweetheart. Just a bit longer. We'll be there in a minute."

The rest was a blur. He remembered them picking him up and driving him home, but drugs made everything hazy. Last thing he remembered was being put to bed and then everything going dark.

#my writing #poly!jo #poly!jo soulmate au #joker out #I have zero excuse for this one

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