So this spiraled completely out of control, as most things do with me, but I hope you like it all the same. Thank you for the prompt, it ended up being +1k and I loved writing it!!
TRIGGER WARNING: Nightmares, mention of blood/gore and very brief mention of panic attacks. Mainly Hurt/Comfort, but please be careful if any of those things trigger you.
The world tilted sideways, the sickening scent of blood heavy in the air even as Connor held his breath. There were eyes fixed upon him, still and accusing, their last expression one of shock. They made chills run down Connor’s spine, pinned him in place and kept him from moving. He wanted to scream something irrational, like demanding the eyes to look elsewhere, but then he realized that they were dead unseeing eyes. And dead men couldn’t very well move their eyes now, could they?
A hysterical laugh started at the back of Connor’s throat. His vision blurred and the room spun once again, its contents hard to make out in the semi darkness. Connor chocked on his laugh, his hand trembling as he reached out to close Sam’s eyes.
If only he’d stop looking at me, Connor thought to himself. If only he’d stop looking, it’ll all be fine. His hand shook, close to the dead man’s eyelids now. He could do it. He will do it. And the world will right itself once Sam’s gaze was off of him for good.
With a last shallow breath, Connor bit his lip until he tasted blood and placed his fingertips near the other man’s cold face. That was when the eyes finally blinked at him.
Connor’s scream finally made it out of his throat.
Tag: to read
“If you walk out that door I won’t be here when you get back.”
He pauses by the door, his hand poised to turn the doorknob but, now, it’s frozen in midair, suspended in disbelief and uncertainty.
The arguments have been brewing for weeks, little snippets of problems that have led to greater explosions. Coming home late is a big one, or disappearing early in the morning. Working through the weekends. Concealing something that makes it obvious something is going on. Avoiding eye contact and fidgeting more. Stuttering through lies and explanations. It’s only increased the gulf between them, the suspicion that leads to tears and cracking voices. Is it me? Is it you?
In the ensuing silence that follows the pleas and demands, he can hear the unspoken whisper of another question – Is it someone else?
And he can’t explain what it is that’s going on. He can’t explain the world he lives in, the one that has made his life a dangerous place but also made it dangerous for everyone else that he loves. It means that he can’t tell them what’s going on because he can’t let anyone else share the burden of his secrets and be placed in harm’s way.
His fingertips brush against the cold brass of the doorknob, his heart clenching in his chest as he weighs up the pros and cons. He can’t neglect his job, but he can’t neglect his partner, his lover, either. He’s trapped in both situations, stuck in the middle and completely unable to win.
“You know I- I love you,” he says, his voice quiet in the silence that encompasses the apartment. He can hear the breathing behind him, shaking with barely suppressed tears. It breaks his heart and separates his soul in two as he battles with the parts of him that demand different responses. “And you know if I walk out the door, I’ll always come back to you.”
“But-”
“And if you’re not here when I get back, then that’s because you made your choice, not because I’m making one.” He glances over his shoulder and he immediately wishes he hadn’t. The shine of tear tracks on his lover’s cheeks only hurts more. “I will always come back to you,” he promises, hoping that his steely eye contact makes it clear that it’s not them, it’s not someone else – it’s him.
His throat almost certainly closes on him as he opens the door, walking out before he can start to doubt himself, before he can run back, before he can beg for forgiveness that he’d left in the first place.
He can hear the sobs following him down the corridor, the clunk of knees hitting carpet, and he tries to shut his eyes and ears and heart because he has a job he needs to do and secrets he has to keep and people he has to protect – including the people who give him ultimatums about not staying in his life anymore, who he’d continue to protect from afar anyway.
Leave the first sentence of a fic in my ask and I’ll write the next five (or more…) lines.
Coliver – AU
falloutmychemicalalltimelowmance:
Take from this prompt from Otpprompt.tumblr.com
Connor
Connor woke up to a pitch black room and a pounding headache. He couldn’t remember feeling this bad in a long time. The night before was a blur of bright lights and shots, with Aiden’s voice in the background, encouraging him through it all. Groaning, he felt on his bedside table for his phone. After knocking over a book and a pair of headphones, he felt it. When he unlocked it, the light was bright and hurt his eyes. It was two o’clock. Connor threw his phone back on the bed and buried his head in to the pillow. He knew he shouldn’t go back to sleep, but the idea was tempting. So instead, he sat up slowly and picked up his laptop. Opening Safari, he knew what would keep him awake; food.
He knew his way through the website like the back of his hand. He could find the Pepperoni Pizza and Diet Coke with his eyes closed. Quickly, he found himself at the ‘Confirm Your Delivery’ page. A little pop up appeared, asking him is he had any special requests. Just as Connor was about to close it, he stopped. The idea of getting out of bed seemed like an effort that he just couldn’t make today. He wouldn’t need money, he’d paid for it with his card, and he always had a spare key under his mat, just in case a friend came around. So, instead of closing the window, he typed: “In bed with hangover, key under the mat, my room is upstairs, first on the right.”
Oliver
Working at the only 24 hour delivery place in town was definitely not the ideal job for Oliver.Starting his shift at 6am was even worse, and now that he was finally nearing the end of it, all was wanted to do was go home and have a nap. It was never a nice normal person who ordered food this early on a Sunday morning. It was always someone who was clearly still drunk or hungover or someone who was just plain weird. But this was his last house and then he could go home and relax.
As Oliver drew up to the door, he checked the address and the order. Everything seemed to be in order, until he noticed the special requests section. It was usually empty, and he rarely actually had to check it, but this customer had asked something,
“In bed with hangover, key under the mat, my room is upstairs, first on the right.”
Oliver looked at it, disbelievingly. Just when he thought this morning couldn’t get any weirder. Unfortunately, if it was written on his receipt, then it had already been approved by the boss, so there wasn’t much he could do about it. So he picked up the pizza and the drink and made his way up to the house. It was huge and completely silent; there didn’t seem to be a single light on anywhere. Reaching down to feel under the mat, he found the key. It fit in the lock and Oliver opened the door. He found himself in a large hallway. There was a coat draped across the table and a pair of shoes haphazardly thrown in to a corner. In front of him was a staircase and Oliver hurried up it. There were several doors all around the upstairs all, but Oliver turned right and stood in front of the first door. Unsure, he knocked on the door. After a few seconds, he heard a voice from inside.
“Come in”
Oliver opened the door. It was pitch black, so he felt around for the light switch and flicked it on.
“Whoa!” a voice came from the bed. Oliver couldn’t see the person who it belonged to, but he could hear that it was male. It was muffled, presumably because the person in the bed had their head buried in the pillow.
“Uh- Pizza delivery?” said Oliver, unsure what to do with the food in his hands. Finally, the man in the bed sat up. He was clearly disorientated, blinking rapidly. His hair was a mess, and he was wearing a slightly crumpled black vest. He was around Oliver’s age, probably still in high school.
“Right,” he said, looking at Oliver. “Just bring it over here?” He pointed at the bedside table beside him. Oliver walked over a put it down, very conscious of the boy’s eyes following him across the room.
“Um- I guess I’ll just put your key back where I found it, then,” he said, as he began walking over to the door.
“Wait!” Came the boy’s voice from bed. Oliver turned back around to face him again.
“Oliver, right?” He said. Oliver must have looked confused, because the boy pointed at his jacket. Oliver looked down. Right. His name tag.
“Yeah, I’m Oliver,” he said. The boy opened the box and smiled.
“Join me for pizza?” he asked.Connor
The last thing that Connor was expecting from his ordering of food was an extremely attractive delivery boy. But that was exactly what happened. As soon as Connor had ordered the food, he’d done exactly what he hadn’t wanted to do; he’d fallen right back asleep, He didn’t wake up again until he heard a knock on his bedroom door. It had taken a minute for him to get his bearings, but once he had, he noticed Oliver. He had a pair of thick rimmed circular glasses on, and a very neatly styled haircut. He was wearing a uniform and looked very cute.
“Um- I guess I’ll just put your key back where I found it, then,” he said, and Connor realised he was leaving.
“Wait!” The boy stopped. “Oliver, right?” Connor almost laughed when Oliver looked very confused, and so he pointed at his the boy’s name tag.
Yeah, I’m Oliver.”
“Join me for pizza?” Connor had to laugh then, when Oliver looked very taken aback.
“I don’t even know your name, dude,” he said, backing towards the door.
“I’m Connor.”
“Well, Connor, I’ve had a long day, and I want to go home, so no thank you-”
“So your shift’s over, then?” interrupted Connor.
“Yes,” said Oliver, “and I’m going to go home now, and relax.”
“Come on,” Connor said. “I’m not gonna eat this whole thing on my own. Just humour me.” Connor could see Oliver fighting back a smile.
“You’re a strange one, Connor,” he said. Connor simply smirked and held the pizza box forward.
“Come on, it’s hot,” he said. “It was only just delivered by a really cute pizza boy.”
“One slice, then,” said Oliver, sitting down on the side of the bed. But Connor could tell by the blush on his cheeks that he would definitely stay for more than just a slice of pizza.
I always need more protective!Ollie in my life. And Connor being shocked that someone cares enough about him to protect him.
Hi Love! Thanks for the prompt and I hope this is okay. It turned out to be little more Jealous!Oliver rather than Protective!Oliver. Oops. I tried. Hope you like! xoxo
There are times Oliver wishes he was a more forceful person. Bolder. Stronger.
Like when his boss rolls into his cubical at quarter to five and asks him to stay late or when that jerk from marketing steals his parking space every Wednesday or his neighbors decide to shoot firecrackers off their balcony at three in the morning.
Or, right now for instance, when he’s sitting across the bar watching some sleaze try to pick up his boyfriend.
At least, Oliver thinks he’s sitting there watching some sleaze try to pick up his boyfriend. There is a whole restaurant between them and a huge support beam is blocking his direct view so he doesn’t have a great line of sight to the bar. He waits for the crowd to shift again and, yep, there it is. Even from here he can tell that guy is standing entirely too close to his boyfriend.
possible prompt: oliver goes apartment-hunting when his lease is up. connor tags along and gets mistaken as his boyfriend, but finds out that he doesn’t really mind
“I’m not sure this room is wide enough for our bed,” Connor says. The realtor blushes, but Oliver’s sure he has her beat with how hot his face feels.
“Connor.”
Connor shrugs. “Just saying.”
Oliver buries his face in his hands, but the realtor just laughs politely and ushers them onward.
When they walk into the kitchen, Connor pushes down on the counter top. “How sturdy is this? Do you think it would hold under a man’s weight?”
Oliver wants to dig to the center of the earth and bury himself.
The realtor blushes again, but this time, she smirks, too. “How much do you weigh?”
Connor side-eyes Oliver. “Who says it’s going to me?”
Malec, Coming out and Oppression, Part III.
✗ PREVIOUS POSTS ON THE TOPIC
Or recommended reading, if you're new to the conversation.
- Part I: Cassandra Clare answers an ask.
- Part II: Blue tells me about it, and I get overboard in the answer.
✗ THE META
Warning: This gets pretty long,
and I still think Cassandra Clare doesn't get it.Okay so this is a new post because my answer to blue’s ask got pretty long as it is, and I think seeing the post too many times as it gets longer and longer would get pretty annoying really fast for a lot of people.
In the present post, I’m going to get a little more into the specifics of Magnus’ position and what Clare got wrong in her perception of Magnus’ position re: his relationship with Malec.
hey i love your blog. could you do a fic where connor and loiver kiss or are having sex and get caught by someone plzzz!
It should be illegal to kiss like Oliver. For all his shy smiles, he kisses with wild abandon, his tongue everywhere at once. He’s attentive, too, hands on Connor’s hips, holding him close and keeping him there.
Connor loses himself in that mouth and those arms. Warmth. Safety. He’s grounded here in a way he never has been with anyone else.
It’s Oliver’s influence. His kindness. His patience.
It’s Michaela’s voice that wrecks it. “This is a place of work, you know.”
“Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that.” hneh hneh hneh aw aw aw
I am okay.
I am fine.Oliver wouldn’t want to see me. I am not okay. I am not fine.
Oh my god, I can’t breathe.
Connor couldn’t make out any thoughts going through his head, but his mind was going a mile a minute. He was shaking and he felt sick and the stench of smoke and burning flesh was stuck in his nose.
If he tried just hard enough, he could get his hand steady enough so that he could knock on apartment 303, Oliver’s apartment.
Could you do a wearing each other’s clothes fic where after having sex, connor accidentally puts on Oliver’s clothes? And he’s all flustered about it but Oliver thinks it’s adorable
Connor slowly blinks awake and then startles.
This is not his apartment.
There’s an arm draped across his waist and a warm breath on the back of his neck.
Dread ripples through his insides. He fell asleep at a hook-up’s place. How could he do that? He never does that.
Heart racing, Connor slips off the bed and grabs the clothes off the floor. He tosses on a shirt and then reaches for his pants. He has one leg in when the bedside light flips on, blinding him.
“Connor?” asks a sleep-weary voice. “What are you doing?”
“Look, I’m sorry,” Connor starts. He’s never fallen asleep at a random guy’s house before. He’s usually so careful. Only with Oliver has he ever…
Wait.
“Oliver?”
hey how about a hs!au where
Oliver’s a transfer student, the new kid in their senior class. When the teacher introduces him, he blushes and fumbles with his glasses. Before he even takes his seat in the back of the room, Connor leans over to his best friend Aiden and says, “Ten bucks says I hit that by the end of the week.”
Aiden rolls his eyes. “Don’t be an asshole,” he says but his smile tells Connor the bet is on.
Connor finds Oliver later at the lockers in the most remote part of the school – the basement. New kids never get the good stuff.
Connor walks up, rests his elbow against the locker directly beside Oliver’s, turns on the smolder, and says, “Hey.”
Oliver jumps and unzips his bookbag too fast. All of his books crash out onto the floor, along with a bologna sandwich and two different calculators.
lanablack 