“Will, you should get some sleep,” Norah murmured, voice soft in the quiet of the basement. Isaac and Lui had both dosed off an hour ago, and Norah was now closing her book and settling into her sleeping bag. William hadn’t gotten up off the couch or made any attempt to get comfortable with them on the floor.
Despite the only light in the room being the small lamp Norah had been using to read not being bright enough to reach him, he was scribbling in his journal, taking advantage of the night vision he seemed to have developed. He blinked down at her, eyes shining in the dim light, “Oh, uh… I’m okay, Norah, I’ll, uh…” he winced, ducking his head, “I’ll sleep later.”
The girl frowned worriedly, “Will…” she hesitated. He didn’t look up from his journal, pulling his knees closer. He could feel that faint cold, burning feeling of his intangibility powers trying to stir under the scrutiny and fought it. That might be worst case scenario here. At least when his powers kicked on during the day the glow was easy to miss, “When’s… When’s the last time you slept?”
“I dunno,” he brushed off, staring blankly down at the words on the page. He’d lost his train of thought, “Don’t worry about me, Norah. You should sleep, don’t you have band practice before class?”
“No, not tomorrow,” she shuffled further into her sleeping bag, wrapping it tight around herself. He didn’t want to look up at her, but he could feel her eyes on him, “Promise me you’ll get some sleep?”
“...Yeah, Norah. I promise.”
been thinking about a post-wiwi death no-pd universe, where William just tries to pretend he's still alive and with his friends so they can all grow up and be happy friends together instead of having to think about them splitting up because will doesnt want to let them get hurt. just thinking about him hiding his powers because they wouldnt understand and hes convinced theyd think he was a monster and would try to get rid of him
anyways this is just william not needing sleep as a ghost at a sleepover, and norah has noticed that he hasnt slept during a sleepover in months and being worried about him but not knowing how to articulate it
i wanna write the four of them growing up and moving out of deadwood together into a tiny little apartment near a college that lui and norah got accepted into and william still hasn't aged but refuses to leave them, and he goes with and the stress of the move is what finally results in his powers going haywire in front of them. RAHHH. im such a sucker for characters with out of control abilities bro
Lui hands her the rabbit. It's… gone still, like it thinks staying calm will keep it alive. Like her, in those branches. Don't move. Don't move, and everything will be okay.
Its fur is soft in her hands.
She can feel its fragile body trembling.
When she plunges the knife, deep into this rabbits ribcage, it screams. It screams with such a visceral pain that it makes Norah's already jackhammering heart threaten to beat out of her chest.
She did that.
Blood pools on the white tile floor.
The rabbit fights, until it doesn't. Until it's only twitching with the vestiges of life. Until its blood has soaked into the rusted metal blade she holds in her hands, and its heart has stopped beating.
yapping under the cut
i havent even finished 2.4 as of posting this but im liek 25 minutes from the end and i genuinely cant do this. like i paused it and unironically started almost full out balling and decided i needed to take a break. i cant even scroll the upp tag so im just reading fanfic for another fandom to help me feel better
i liked this scene a lot. bizly did a good job making it fucking awful. like i paused midway through the scene to start writing it, then finished it just so i could make this lil drabbly bit because inspiration hit me like a brick to the window
im. so scared. like i genuinely. i. idek what to say.
Third person limited William pov, contains Norah and William, Norah centric
Takes place post season 2
There was a soft tap-tap-tap on the basement window that had William jumping. He fumbled with his controller, trying to pause his game of Assassins Creed without putting himself in a shit spot for returning to.
When he was able to look back to the window– another series of taps ringing out across the room– what he saw was Norah, crouched in the window well and clad in her pajamas with a thick red hoodie thrown overtop. He tripped over the air on his way over, hitting his hip on the lip of the couch.
"Norah?" He shoved the window up its frame. His heart stuttered with worry at the sight of her face, damp with tears. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" he urged her inside, eyes scanning her for injuries. He didn’t find any– thank fuck. She ducked her head, hands fumbling for her pockets.
She pulled out her phone while he shut and locked the window. He watched her tap away on it, bouncing on the balls of his feet and fidgeting with the frayed hem of his hoodie while he waited for her to type the words out. Eventually, her phone spoke on her behalf, in a jerky robotic voice, "Are you real?"
His expression crumbled as much as it ever did, wide eyes turning into pinched brows and a soft set frown. Damn. Ever since everything happened– with the Dark Young, and the Shtriga, so much worse than anything they’d dealt with before– Norah hadn’t exactly been… the same. He hated to acknowledge that it wasn’t even something he could fix.
It wasn’t a monster, it wasn’t a lingering effect from either of the creatures they’d fought and won against in recent months. It was just… her. The stress of it all had gotten to her worst. Watching her fall deep into her mind and get lost there might be even worse than running for his life.
With slow movements, he laid his hands on her shoulders and gently squeezed. Despite the way she was keeping her head hung low, he angled himself so he could look her in the eyes, "I'm real. I'm here, and I'm real, okay? I promise."
“...You promise?” she echoed, voice choked with tears, and fear, and all the stress that must’ve been building and building.
yap yap... im really tired rn so i dont have a lot of yap. this the last drabble im posting for rn, im gonna try and get the headcanons i have save rn cleaned up and posted since theyre pretty much ready i just need to make sure theyre coherant lmao
soon-ish im gonna throw all these drabbles onto ao3, i wanna write more drabbles but im trying to focus on my bigger oneshots more than them. the drabbles were kinda just me struggling with writing motivation but wanting to have SOMETHING to show for my hyperfixation
ive started a chronic fatigue wiwi PD fic, and im halfway through the editing process for a physically disabled wiwi fic! and soon im gonna butcher this attempt i made at a nightmares fic and post the individual scenes as their own fics
anyways yap about the ACTUAL post. i almost had william playing Alice: Madness Returns only to find out that game wasnt out yet.
also this fic idea came to me in the middle of the shower and i had to get out and type it into the upp server with wet hands so i didnt lose the idea
also NV norah my beloved. also also norah whose grip on reality slips through her fingers sometimes and she needs people there to help her know that things are okay my beloved.
Series: Unwitness Protection Program
Characters: William Wisp, Janet Wisp, Lui Dupont, Isaac Brooks
Pairings: NA
Trigger Warnings: Panic Attacks, Flashbacks
Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, During Series/Season 2
Summary:
2.4 spoilers afoot
He can’t stop thinking of all the ways things could go wrong with them. All the ways they could die out in Deadwood’s godforsaken streets.
Or,
William has a panic attack waiting for Norah to get out of surgery in 2.4 while Lui and Isaac are at the convenience store
This is so–
fucked.
Here William is, sitting in the waiting room of the hospital. Again. Norah’s in surgery, injured on another one of his stupid mysteries that he can’t help but drag them on. All he can do, hunching over in a plastic chair that digs into his spine, is pray to a god he’s sure had long since abandoned them, and beg for her to be alright.
He feels like the spiral he’d barrelled down was warranted. They have so far to go still ahead of them, and yet so much has happened already. He’s fucked up time and time again on this hunt and he knows, somewhere painful and deep in his chest, that he’s going to get his friends killed.
He let Isaac separate from the group, knowing how that always seemed to go. And then he was nearly sacrificed, carved open like an animal by the bleeding, mangled corpse of his own father. Alone, in the woods, his friends– the people who should’ve been there for him, who should’ve gone looking for him the minute he didn’t sneak back out to join them– not even aware he was missing.
(“Holy shit,” Isaac’s throat sounds raw, like he’d been screaming for help for hours. It sends chills down William’s spine, and the guilt already churning in his stomach tripled. How long has he been here? How long has he been begging for them to show up and save him? “I thought you were never gonna come– I thought I was gonna– I thought I was gonna die.”)
Alone for so long that he thought they’d never find him. He’d been there for hours, hanging from that tree in the middle of winter. He thought they’d leave him there to be carved open like a Thanksgiving turkey.
And then he did the same fucking thing all over again to Norah. They keep splitting up, like they thought the outcome of doing it would change. Like they think going off alone when a monster’s in town isn’t going to inevitably end in disaster.
(It’s impossible not to notice the blood. The glaring white snow that’d fallen over Deadwood was stained a vibrant red here. Bloody, dragging footprints lead deep into the forest, melting into the shadows. At the edge of the trail, lies Norah Fleetwood. Her clothes are soaked through with melted snow, twigs and leaves embedded in the fabric and caught up in her hair.
Her leg is twisted beyond recognition.)
Yet, despite all of the evidence that’s being shoved in his face that they shouldn’t split up under any circumstances, not even for their own family, he’d let Lui and Isaac go off on their own. They all agreed they shouldn’t split up again, but he refuses to leave the hospital, and they needed that salt.
He can’t stop thinking of all the ways things could go wrong with them. All the ways they could die out in Deadwood’s godforsaken streets.
“Honey?” His mom’s hand lands on his knee. It should’ve been comforting. The touch is gentle, paired with her accented, worried voice. It should’ve helped ground him to reality, should’ve reminded him that he was spiraling and helped him snap out of it.
Instead, it made him flinch back. His knee jerks, twisting at an odd angle to get away from the touch. His elbow rams into the back of the plastic chair, pain singing up the bone, all the way out to his fingertips. His eyes dart around in a flurry, taking in everyone else lingering in the room and the nurses beyond the glass. He took in his mom, looking for any signs that she isn’t what she seems, that something is wrong.
He feels dizzy.
Somewhere– distant, overshadowed by the constant stream of panicked thoughts that wouldn’t shut up– it occurs to him that he’s hyperventilating, but he can’t stop. There’s something about the rapid inhale-exhale that’s… not calming, but more like if he stops he’ll fall apart. It’s all that’s keeping him together, while simultaneously being exactly what’s ripping him apart.
Fuck, he can’t breathe. There isn’t enough air. His chest hurts.
Familiar, calloused fingers grab his clammy ones, pulling them away from the death grip they had on his biceps. He can hear his name being said, over and over again, his mother begging him to calm down. With his hands in hers, he can feel how badly they’re shaking, potent tremors wracking through him.
With the awareness of his own body being forced over him, he realizes he’s hot. The waiting room had been cold when they’d walked in, enough that he’d not stopped shivering from the transition indoors, but now the heat is suffocating. “Honey, you need to breathe.”
His mom is still holding his hands, despite the way he can’t stop fighting her grip. A pathetic, animalistic keen rolls out of his throat. Tears burn in his eyes, blurring the room in front of him. He can’t see anything wrong with his mom, but can he trust that? Can he trust his mind to be telling the truth?
“I–” he swallows thickly, choking on his own words. “I can’t–”
“You’re havin’ a panic attack, sweetheart. You need to take a breather,” Mom soothes, rubbing her thumb on his skin in soft, repetitive patterns. He can feel the familiar wrinkles in her skin, all her scars from a well lived life. He wants it to be calming so, so badly. “C’mon, now. Breathe in, then out.”
William ducks his head, neck twinging in response to the sharp motion. He can’t stop sucking in desperate, wheezing breaths like there isn’t any air left in the world. He’s starting to wonder if, maybe, Mr. Abrahams has done something to him. Is this just a panic attack, or is it something worse?
(“Stop breathing.”
William hadn’t been aware of Lui’s breathing until it stopped. And now it’s the only thing he can hear, in spite of his own panicked yelling bouncing off Norah’s and filling the room with fear.)
“‘M sorry,” he gasps, fumbling to spit words from his dry mouth. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry.” The pleas, the begs for forgiveness won’t stop tumbling out of his mouth. Now that he’s started, he can’t stop, words running into each other and turning into mush, fighting for space between his frantic breaths.
William doesn’t even know what he’s sorry for. Is it for always worrying his parents? Is it for letting Norah and Isaac go off alone without looking for them? Is it for letting Norah almost kill herself? For making Isaac go to that church alone? For walking away and leaving Lui in the hands of a man who could mind control him? Maybe it’s just for dragging them all into this fucking mess, all of his messes, over and over again.
“Honey. Honey, it’s okay,” Mom’s voice is strained with fear and desperation. He wants to comply with her pleas, he wants to just fucking calm down and be a normal kid, but he can’t. “It’s okay, just breathe. Everything’s gonna be fine. Y’aint got no reason to be apologizin’, okay?”
Her voice seems to fade in and out, washed away by the sound of blood rushing in his ears. His hair keeps falling into his face, damp with sweat, tickling his flushed skin. He lets out another pathetic sound that steals what little air is in his lungs.
Fuck. He can’t breathe.
He knows it’s just a panic attack. Logically, he just needs to calm down. He needs to take slower breaths, and remind himself that everything is fine. And, that even if it isn’t, panicking like this isn’t going to do anything to help him.
Norah’s in the hospital getting tended to, and she’s going to come out of it okay. Lui has broken free of the mind control. They saved Isaac from being sacrificed. He’s freaking out over nothing. But his mind just won’t stop moving. It’s running a mile a minute, careening down the train tracks in his head at lethal speed no matter how hard he tries to hit the brakes.
It’s like he can’t even remember how he’s supposed to be breathing. What level of slow is slow enough? What’s really too slow that he starts running out of air, and what’s just his mind playing tricks on him?
Someone swears, and it isn’t his mom. There’s a pounding of footsteps, familiar voices calling his name. His mom’s grip loosens, finally giving him space to yank his hands away and rub away the feeling of skin on skin with the fabric of his hoodie. He gets lost in the repetitive movement of his fingers catching on the zipper, scratching at his skin.
He needs to calm down. If his body can get with the fucking program of doing that, that’d be amazing. If it can stop being so convinced that, just because he has a few hours of waiting for things to start up again, it’s the perfect time to be so debilitatingly terrified that he can’t suck in a full breath. His lungs heave, over and over again. His chest hurts.
“Will, man, you gotta slow your breathing, okay?”
Isaac?
He sounds scared. William wants to open his eyes, to look, to check. To know that it’s real, and that he’s okay. That there isn’t something to actually be afraid of. He just can’t get himself to go through with it. He digs the zipper underneath his nails, feeling the metal teeth bite his skin. He keeps his eyes clenched shut so tight it hurts.
Lui speaks next, “C’mon, Will… Look at us, c’mon, take a breath.”
He opens his mouth to speak, to say that he’s trying. That he’s been trying since he realized what was happening and could rip himself from the safety of hyperventilation. It just isn’t fucking working. But no words make it out around his gasps, he’s choking down air like he’s drowning with nothing to grab onto the moment his lips part.
“I know it’s hard, but you gotta keep trying. Breathe, Will.”
“Just follow my breathing okay?” Lui’s familiar hands grab his wrist, slow and deliberate. His skin isn’t wrinkled or calloused like Mom’s was; it’s smooth, unblemished. His hands are shaking, both of them trembling in each other's grips.
William doesn’t want to let go of his hoodie, doesn’t want to stop the pain that’s grounding him. He doesn’t want to be touched. Still. He trusts Lui. He lets the older teen guide his hand, until he feels Lui’s ribs and all the life beneath. He can feel each rise and fall of the other teens' breaths, and the rabbit quick heartbeat behind his sternum.
“Breathe, honey.”
His mom– she’s still here. That’s right. He swallows thickly, and tries to force his muscles to relax. Calm down.
“In and out, Will. You got this, man.”
He really doesn’t. He’s starting to come to terms with that idea that this panic attack would inevitably end in him passing out– he really doesn’t want that, and it’s been so long since that last happened, but he just can’t fucking breathe. No matter how hard he tries, even with Lui’s lungs to guide him, it hurts. His chest hurts when he tries to force it into submission, and he hates it.
A broken sob rips from him. Trying to slow his breathing feels like suffocating. It’s like someone’s actively squeezing his throat, wrapping a rope around his lungs. It’s like a hundred pound weight has been placed on his ribs.
“C’mon, Will, you’ve got this.” Lui gives his hand a gentle squeeze, like he’s trying to remind William he’s here, that they’re both still here. Alive.
“Everything’s gonna work out, okay? We’ll– We’ll be okay, Norah’s gonna be okay–”
“But we’re not!”
The loud, terrified words are out of him before he can even stop to consider them. Tears flow freely down his face, hot and tacky on his skin. His free hand flies out, emphasizing his point– from the corner of his eye, he sees Isaac flinch back out of its path, narrowly avoiding getting hit.
“We’re– we’re–” he stammers, throat raw. Brutal sobs and frantic gasps slam against his ribs. “Norah’s in the hospital again, and it’s my fault again! We almost lost you to that stupid fucking stick and Isaac was almost fucking sacr—” His eyes land on his mom, and he snaps his jaw shut.
Shit.
A new wave of terror hits him like a strike of lightning. He shouldn’t have said that, not in front of her. Not in public. His eyes are open now, and he can see the scene he’s creating. The other people in the waiting room keep unsubtly glancing at him, or blatantly staring. A nurse hovers by the doors, watching him like she’s trying to decide whether or not to intervene.
His mom. Standing a couple feet away, like she’d been forced out of the way by Isaac and Lui who’re crowded in around him. Her hands are covering her mouth, eyes wide and shining with worry and fear.
He’s so stupid.
“What’re we gonna do?” He sounds like he’s begging. Begging for someone to tell him how to fix this. Begging for things to be alright. Begging for someone to just make everything better.
He can’t. Breathe.
Each breath he’s taking is wet and short. He can feel Lui’s heartbeat under his hand, tapping slower than his– pounding in his ears. Every single beat is a constant thump-thump-thump that takes over his hearing and threatens to burst from his chest– but still fast. He looks stricken by William’s words.
“Sorr--” his words get caught in his throat, choking him. “Sorry. Sorry, m’ sorry, I can’t–”
“It’s okay.” Isaac grabs his other hand, carefully prying it from the strands of greasy black hair he’d buried it in and saving him from the headache he’d give himself tugging on it. “We’re gonna figure it out. We’re all okay right now, and that’s what matters. Right, Lui?”
“Yeah. Yeah, dude.” Lui clears his throat, squeezing William’s hand tighter. Somehow, it’s reassuring, despite being a death grip that makes his bones ache. “But– But we can’t do anything with you like this, okay? You need to slow your breathing. Please, just– just try, okay?”
He keens, shaking his head. He’s been trying.
The world’s starting to feel fuzzy and off-kilter.
He really doesn’t wanna pass out.
Focus. Focus on breathing, on calming down. Everything will work out. He’s going to make sure everything works out. He forces a breath in through his nose, then out through his mouth, then repeats. Having to open and close his lips forces him to slow down, to consciously switch between the two.
In, and out.
“There you go.” Isaac’s voice is thick with relief. He can feel Lui slump under his hand, muscling untensing with the same feeling. “Good job, man. Just like that, okay?”
“Keep breathing, Will. You’ve got this.”
In and out.
In and out.
The constant rise and fall of Lui’s chest. The off-beat thump, thump, thump of his heart. The sounds of buzzing fluorescent lights and the smell of hospital cleaning products. The ache of Lui’s too-tight grip and the rough feeling of Isaac’s skin on his. He’s here. They’re here.
Tension drains out of him all at once like a tidal wave, and he slumps forward over his knees. Isaac catches him, dragging him in close, and wrapping his arm around the trembling teen’s frame. William’s shoulder twinges, twisting so he can keep his palm to Lui’s chest. He refuses to lose that contact. Another aching joint was nothing in the grand scheme of things.
His head’s against Isaac’s chest now, letting him feel the signs of life right below his friend's skin. Two of three UPP members are here. They’re safe. They’re breathing. Their hearts are beating. He keeps using them as his guide, slowing his breathing despite the way it burns.
He can’t see his mom anymore, not with his head buried in Isaac’s jacket, but he knows she’s there. Hot shame curls in his gut in the empty space his fleeing panic leaves behind. He’s such an idiot. He knows how to get out of a panic attack.
He knows all the coping mechanisms he can use. He knows how to breathe; he’s memorized countless breathing exercises specifically to make it easier to keep track of how he should be breathing when he gets wound up like this. And yet, every single time it’s like he forgets all over again.
And now, because he can’t just keep his mouth shut and his mind quiet, he’s said all of that right in front of his mother. She’s had to watch him fall apart with no idea as to why. She’s going to worry herself into getting the flu again, and it’ll be his fault.
“Feeling better?” Lui murmurs, low enough that only they can hear. William groans, burying his face further into Isaac’s jacket. It’s the red one he always wore, even in the summer, with a rough texture that feels nice against his skin.
“...’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, dude.” Isaac’s chest rumbles with his voice, arms tightening around the younger. “It’s…”
Lui fills in the blank, “It’s a lot.”
He doesn’t respond.
He doesn’t need to. They get it. They understand everything that’s happening.
That doesn’t mean it’s fair. Fair for him to make them deal with his shit, when he hasn’t gone through half of what they have. Not to mention that they still have so much to do, so much to talk about, so much to prepare for. They don’t have the time for this.
He grits his teeth. He hits the metaphorical brakes on his train of thought. Don’t think about it, he tells himself. If he thinks about everything that can go wrong, everything that’s already gone wrong, he’ll only work himself back up and then where would he be?
In.
And out.
“...Still,” he croaks. “Sorry.” Is that the only word he knows how to say anymore? The only shape his mouth can make now? Is he doomed to apologize, over and over again, that five letter word slipping between his teeth for the rest of eternity? “Didn’t mean– It’s–”
He pulls his head back, just enough to thunk it back down, seeking the stimulation an ache can provide. His hands flex, holding too-tight onto his friends, then loosening the moment he realizes his nails are digging into skin.
“Yeah.” He gives up. He doesn’t know how to say it. “It’s… a lot.”
More footsteps approach. It takes him a second to recognize the familiar tap-tap of his dad’s work boots on the tile floor. He yanks himself away from his friends, frantically trying to wipe away the tears and snot from his face with his hoodie sleeves.
Headcanons in drabbles:
Red panda therian!Norah, grey fox therian!William, implied autistic!norah
Wiwi: Third person limited Isaac POV Includes Isaac & William
Nors: Third person limited Lui POV. Includes Lui & Norah
Vague and unrelated to canon timeline (no spoilers afoot)
if i didnt make it clear this is two semi unconnected drabbles abt therian will/therian norah
"William, hit me with that again and I'm taking it!" Isaac whipped around to look at William, who had been lightly bapping him with a stick for the last ten minutes. He wasn't actually angry. In fact, he could barely keep the laughter in his chest from bubbling out, but it was starting to get annoying enough that he was gonna do something about it.
William growled, snapping his teeth and chuffing. Isaac didn't hesitate to match him, growling low and loud in his chest. If Will actually had his fox ears, Isaac could easily picture them tucked back in a display of aggression.
Then, oh so gently, William thwacked him over the head with the stick. Isaac reached for it, only for the fox to yank it out of his reach with a hyena-like laugh. His grin was more like bared teeth. Isaac leapt for him, trying to get it out of his grip.
The two of them tumbled into the frosty grass, William yelping in a way that was more fox than human, then growled again and tried to wriggle out from beneath the heavier teen.
Isaac let him, if only to hear his chittery laugh when he remained victorious. Another bop with the stick, and he was chasing the grey fox through the clearing for custody of the item.
They made an effort not to scare her if they could. It was the same with William, except he was usually more aware of his surroundings than she was. She got absorbed in what she was doing with ease, and wouldn't notice you until you made a loud noise that had her jumping.
So, when Lui walked into her room, having been let up by her parents, he knocked on the frame of the door to announce himself. It was muscle memory, even if she was already sitting up and looking at the doorway when he got there.
Norah had her back turned, hunched over her bookshelf, tidying or reorganizing her books it seemed. Half of them were spread out on her bed-- he didn't know if she'd just decided she didn't like them how they were, or if she'd pulled a bunch of them out for some other reason and was just now putting them back.
Unsurprisingly, she yelped. It was this high-pitched squeaky thing that was more her theriotype than human. He struggled to fight back his smile in amusement when she whirled around, fingers clawed and hands held up around her head like a threatened red panda. Her face was scrunched up, teeth bared and nose wrinkled.
It was far more adorable than scary, admittedly.
“Lui!” Her eyes went wide barely a second later, and her hands dropped, “You scared me! When’d you get here?”
“Just now. Uhm, what’s going on with all the books…?”
tada. whimsy. my babies being therians i love them so bad. i actually dont think these are super well written but let me live my truth
william is fully mental shifted in his which is why he doesnt talk and is just being a pest. see also william is running on all fours and isaac is on two legs, but isaac 100% growls to rile him up (like you ever growl at ur dog while playing. that)
norah isnt shifted but that's her instinctive response to being startled
also no idef didnt uh forget that i was posting these at all. why would i ever do that. HOPE YOU ENJOYED BYE
Limited third person William POV, includes William, Norah, and Isaac
SPOILERS AFOOT. TAKES PLACE POST 2.4 (does not go into depth, vague mention of why lui's not with them at the beginning, then moves on)
It's three in the morning, and none of them can sleep.
This isn't new, especially not since the shtriga and the ritual. Lui's still in the hospital, has been for a week and a half now, and the three of them are piled into William's basement, laid out in their sleeping bags.
Not sleeping.
"...I love you guys," William croaked into the dark, quiet room. "I think... You guys're... you guys are the best thing that's ever happened to me."
The other two don't respond for so long that William starts to think maybe he was wrong. Maybe he’s the only one awake and he's talking entirely to himself. And then, in that strained voice that is so obviously him trying not to laugh, Isaac says, "We're the best things that've ever happened to you?"
"Yeah, man. I'm bein', like, vulnerable here, don't make fun of me."
Norah's sleeping bag rustles, and then he hears her giggle. "I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you," she says through soft, twinkling laughter, "If we're-- if we're the best things."
"What?" William sits up to look at her grinning face. "C'mon, you guys're great. I never would've--" he winces at the words about to come out of his mouth, "There's a lot of things I never would've... come out of alive, if not for you guys."
He turns at the sound of Isaac's sleeping bag unzipping, and sees the taller teen shuffling over to him. Isaac leans heavily into his side, slinging an arm over his shoulders. "We're just messin' with you, man," he relents, "We love you, too."
"Yeah, Will, you're..." Norah trails off, hands fidgeting atop the surface of her sleeping bag. "This group is one of the best things that've happened to me, too."
IM SORRY LUI'S NOT HERE WHEN I WROTE IT I JUST. DIDNT. IDFK i struggle with writing lui. know that if he was here he'd be like "yeah, i love you guys" like the rest of them. i think its cos the incorrect quote i was using as my inspo/guide only had three ppl in it
side note. there's only two drabbles left, one of them is really short and silly and one of them is Not Silly Goofy so i apologize in advance. soon-ish ill post all these on ao3
Contains William, Norah, Lui, Isaac / Contains Norah, Isaac, William
Vague unrelated to canon timeline, no spoilers afoot
"...Can I be frank with you guys?" William spoke, interrupting the silence that had been gently draped over the UPP members for the last few minutes like a thick comforter.
Isaac snrked, "Sure, man, but, I don't see how changing your name is gonna do anything."
Norah fought back a laugh, biting her lip to keep her smile from becoming a full out grin. "Can I still be Norah?"
"Shh, let Frank speak," Lui stage-whispered, bumping shoulders with her, not even bothering to hide his grin.
Norah fidgetted with her hands, the cuffs of her maroon sweater rough against the road rash coating her palms. "...I don't wanna go to jail," she muttered.
"Jail is not fun. Zero out of ten, do not recommend," Isaac quipped. She made a face, scrunching up her nose and pressing her brows together.
"None of us are going to jail, this is-- like, uh. It's not serious enough, okay?" William reassured. He bumped his shoulder into hers, stretching his lips into a small, comforting smile.
Silence hung over them for a beat. They were just waiting on Lui to get back so they could figure out their next steps. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be long now.
"...Isaac, you've been to jail?"
"Once," Isaac began, voice grave, "In monopoly. Worst ten minutes of my life."
these ones are both so short im just putting them both in the same post lmao
these are more incorrect quote inspired drabbles (obviously based on their goofiness). just nice happy lil drabbs to make you smile when the rest of this tag is full of despair and horror lalala
Headcanons in drabble:
None super obvious. Autistic Norah snuck in there with her inability to just stop a task midway
Third person limited Norah POV. Includes Norah and Lui, William and Isaac mentioned. Norah centric.
Pre-canon/Vague non-canon related, no spoilers afoot
Norah was trying to study. They had their midterms this week, and if she got anything less than an A on any of them she was going to break down crying and screaming.
Okay. That was a little dramatic. Still, she'd been studying as much as she could around UPP meetings, school, and her other hobbies. She was trying to get through her full set of flash cards and reorganize her notes before her alarm to get ready for bed went off.
Her phone buzzed angrily on the nightstand with William's ringtone. Again.
She ignored it.
It buzzed again. Isaac's ringtone, this time. Again.
She ignored it.
They'd been calling her for the last hour-- either both taking turns spam calling her or spacing them out like they were talking with each other before bothering her again. She would normally pick up, either out of worry something was wrong or just because they're her friends and she likes to hang out with them, but she wasn't done and she wasn't going to do anything else until she was done.
Her phone rang again, and she ignored it again.
Chances were that they just wanted to pester her with something entirely inconsequential. It'd been an hour! If it was something serious they would've come and gotten her by now. If they'd gotten in trouble chasing some mystery, they wouldn't've been able to repeatedly call her like this.
So, they were probably fine, and she was going to keep studying.
And then her phone rang with Lui's ringtone, and she dropped her pencil. Damnit. She was almost done with that page. But Lui never called if it wasn't serious. Maybe they'd gotten a lead on something, or maybe they really were in trouble. She fumbled for her baby pink flip phone, decorated with puffy stickers and sharpie drawings.
"Hello?"
In the background of the call, she could hear Isaac and William talking over each other, neither of them comprehendable. "Norah, you answered!" Lui exclaimed, "Will and Isaac thought something bad happened to you, are you alright?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm-- I'm trying to study? Midterms are in a few days, and I still, uhm, I still need to finish categorizing my notebook and reviewing chapters 3-6 of our biology textbook..."
"Oh, thank god," Lui breathed. She heard him talking to the two boys, reassuring them she was alright. "Look, uhm, y'know how Margo from our geography class went missing a couple days ago? Yeah... William, uhm, might've– might’ve found her body in the woods?"
"What?!"
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my babies. i like to think william and isaac spam call their friends way too much. it gets obnoxious. she just doesnt pick up the phone half the time because its something that couldve been a text.
i know the hc that william hates phone calls is AMAZING and i do prefer that highkey. hed rather text you. but shhhhh. lui doesnt call or text a lot methinks, i think he prefers to talk irl or just give you the most basic, generic response ever. you send him 6 messages and he gives you a thumbs up emoji
i have very little yap for this one. silly lil drabble about them just being kids before/disregarding The Horrors Of Canon
