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vintageaurelia · 4 months

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knitting club (Thomas Thorne x Reader drabble)

note: hi fellas. this is my first time writing something like this and POSTING it. I'm a little nervous ngl! But just bear with me I swear I'll improve 😊. anywho! feel free to shoot some silly little requests my way!

Also! apologies if you don't have any clue about knitting, I personally do and I based this off a singular Thomas quote LOL.

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The club meetings Alison was hosting in the home proved to be bothersome for some of the ghosts, annoyed at how many people were visiting the house every day. Between the AA meetings and just the most random topics you could ever think of being discussed, it was something not everyone was entirely interested in. Though everyone loved to tune into the AA meeting every once in a while, for some juicy stories.

You on the other hand? You stuck around for all the art based clubs, it reminded you of when you were alive and could do all this work with your hands.

The knitting club proved to be one that you could watch for hours, it's one of the hobbies you missed a lot. Looking around at all of the cute creations everyone was making and talking about their families and different stories they had from the day filled your soul with a sort of warmth.

As this week's meeting began, you sat on the old beat up couch, watching all the young, old, women and men fill the seats, excited about what progress they made over the week. Unbeknownst to you though, a certain poet was walking past the room to see you sitting in there alone, with the group that had no idea you were there.

Thomas was never really fond of the knitting club, he felt it was boring and it wasn’t worth his time to sit and watch other people knit while talking about their grandkids or their in-laws. But maybe he could learn to like it? Maybe just for you?

He walked into the room silently as you were enchanted by all the people getting ready to start the meeting. “Good evening dear (Y/N),” Thomas greets you with a slight bow and a polite smile on his face. You light up and wave to him “Hi! Are you here for the knitting club? I thought you didn’t like them?” Thomas freezes up before responding with a quick agreement. “I just thought I might’ve judged them a little too hard at first, so I thought I would give them another chance,” this makes you smile and you go back to watching the group.

He had to admit it's not as boring as he remembered, but it still wasn’t super enjoyable for him. But boy did it make him gleam seeing you get up and tell him what everyone was making and why.

By the end of the meeting, he learned one of the older women was making a blanket for her new grandson, and a young man was making a hat for his wife as a Christmas gift. Part of him wished he could do something like that for you, just because he realized how excited you get about this stuff.

“Say (Y/N), did you know how to knit when you were living? You seem to know quite a bit.” You nod, “It was a big hobby of mine. I spent a lot of time and money on blankets and hats, which now thinking about it, probably paid off. Because now my family has something handmade to remember me.” You smile, but it hurts to think about sometimes.

Thomas reads you like a book, he realizes how emotional you are getting. He places a supportive hand on your shoulder.

You both lock eyes, getting lost with one another. Thomas soon breaks eye contact to glance over at the people knitting mindlessly.

“I know that being stuck here isn’t ideal, and not being able to do the things you love isn’t ideal either. But isn’t it splendid you can still appreciate it? Even if you cannot do it, isn’t the true gift appreciation?” He states, so matter of factly you can’t even begin to argue. “That was actually very poetic.” Both of you smile at each other.

“I also appreciate you, Thomas.”

“I feel the same exact way, my dearest.”

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I hope you all enjoyed! Probably not the best work ever, but I thought it was cute :)

#thomas thorne #thomas thorne x reader #bbc ghosts #x reader #bbc ghosts fanfic

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moonah-rose · 7 days

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Rohr and Elysabeth (Robin and Elizabeth) by @idiotwithanipad 🥰

The best pressy I've had in a long while. Love seeing my oc drawn so perfect, wolf-eaten leg included! Much thanks to amazing mutual buddy. 🥰

(Elysabeth and Rohr's story can be read here)

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts fanart #robin the caveman #ghosts oc #bbc ghosts art #bbc ghosts fanfic #tw body horror

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spineless-lobster · 6 months

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I'm looking to get back into reading capvers fics because I haven't had time in a while, do you have any suggestions?

Oh boy, do I? (I do, I have a lot lol)

These ones are my faves and I’ve organized them in a list and credited the authors who I know are on tumblr :)

Long fics:

We’ll meet again some sunny day and it’s sequel Let’s say goodbye with a smile, dear by @alisoncooper

Havers’

A place to call home by @realismreading

What I meant when I said forever

A fool to leave you

I’d like it if you stayed

One shots:

Cheek to cheek

The third stage of grief

Wherever you go, return by @imdayyydreaming

If Rome hadn’t fallen

Thank god for air-raids

Story of a heart (s5 spoilers) by @alisoncooper

In progress:

Havers’ Revisited

Wartime blues

There’s a war going on (only one chapter left) by @glowinggreeneyes-e

Wounded by @ailendolin

I hope these are sufficient!

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts fanfic #capvers #caphavers #the captain #lieutenant havers #answered asks

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dyinginfandom · 2 months

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Writing a ghosts reincarnation fic and I’m only on the prologue and already made my friends I’ve asked for judgement from cry

All the main ghosts minus cap have already been sucked off and cap is the only one left and cap is sat talking to Alison opening up and in his own sort of way of coming out to her he talks about how if anyone had known in his time he’d have faced a similar fate to Turing and that that was a closer explanation to what would have happened than Oscar Wilde’s fate. He also references living longer than Turing but not quite as long as Wilde but having much less to show for his life.

I then have him broach the topic of reincarnation and soulmates by asking Alison if she believes in them upon her saying she’s more open minded since meeting the ghosts he explains the belief of reincarnation then soulmates and throws a bit of shade on people who think Romeo and Juliet were soulmates because soulmates and star crossed lovers are very different. And tells her if reincarnation exists they’ll find their way back to button house and that they’re all family.

He then reveals his name and as he’s being sucked off he tells her that they ‘shall meet again some sunny day’

While writing this I was listening to ‘empty chairs at empty tables’ from les mis as I felt that fit the vibe of both the Captain the lonely ghost and Alison as she looses her found family. I concerned my flatmate with the song until I explained and she said she’d been meaning to watch ghosts and that she loves a show with both gay characters and ghosts. Our group chat name was ‘be gay do crime’ but one is a mentor so we had change it.

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patcaps · 7 months

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A brave man, Fanny had called him, and he fancies being brave one more time before the sky begins to lighten.

patcap, 1.2k words, rated T with no warnings

(Spoilers for 5x05.)

#bbc ghosts spoilers #bbc ghosts fanfic #patcap #patcap fanfic #mine #my fic #quill to paper

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ailendolin · 3 months

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Greeting, :)

Hope you're having a lovely december so far.

Congrats on cracking 800 followers !!🥳

*insert celebratory party and cake here*.

For the Celebration I would like to formally request, as always ;), 04. Robin/Julian and 04 and 09.

Your writing is just soo *Chefs kiss*, but take your time and enjoy the holidays (if you get any? Hopefully...).

Have a great day/month/year :) <3

I did have a lovely December, thank you! I hope you did as well! Thank you so much for your prompt! Here's your little story about the Chess Husbands being very soft with each other based on your prompts Shooting Star & Tradition. Enjoy! 😊

List of prompts is here. Filled prompts are here, here, here, here and here on AO3.

Prompts are closed.

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Wish Upon A Star [AO3]

“What are you doing out here?”

Robin glanced over his shoulder and could not help but smile at the slightly disgruntled expression on Julian’s face.

“Watching the stars,” he said before he turned to look back up at the sky. “Is good night for it.”

Julian sighed but crossed the driveway to sit down next to him on the old fountain anyway. His eyes followed Robin’s gaze up into the vastness of the universe. “It’s also a good night for cuddling in bed, you know.”

Robin’s smile widened into a grin. “Don’t need bed for cuddle.”

To prove his point, he wormed his way into Julian’s arms. It was his favourite place in the world. Back when the house had first been built, he’d thought it couldn’t get much better than that. Four walls, a roof, a door – it had offered more comfort than he’d ever known. But then Julian had partied his way into the afterlife and stirred up this persistent flutter in Robin’s stomach, the one that always heralded a shift in his perception of home and safety. He’d been around long enough to embrace it with open arms, and while it had taken Julian a little longer to become aware of the spark between them, he’d gotten there in the end.

Sneaking a glance up at Julian’s face – so handsome, beloved and dear – Robin smiled to himself. There were many things about Julian that he had come to love over the years: his sense of humour, the way he snorted when he laughed, how mischievously he always winked when they were sharing a joke no one else understood …

But as he was getting comfortable against Julian’s chest, he thought his favourite thing was probably how perfectly he fit in Julian’s arms. Julian was just tall enough that his chin could rest perfectly on top of his head when they hugged like this, and Robin would be lying if he said he didn’t feel completely at peace every time they did. Sometimes, Julian would whisper funny things into his ear that never failed to make him laugh. Other times, he would hide soft confessions in his curls; the ones he couldn’t quite bring himself to say out loud in the light of day. Robin didn’t mind the latter. He cherished every word said under the light of Moonah; always had, always would.

Tonight, Moonah was nothing more than a faint sickle in the night sky. The scars scattered around it shone all the brighter for its absence, and Mary’s shone the brightest of them all. It twinkled as merrily as she used to, all bright-eyed and curious. There were times when Robin missed her fiercely, with the force of a storm tearing across the land and cutting down everything in its path. Sometimes, like now, he missed her quietly, though. The pain of her loss felt like a gentle breeze dancing around the trees, then. It made it easier to look up at her star and remember; sometimes, he even managed to smile when he found her in the sky.

“You think she’s happy up there, wherever she is?” Julian asked quietly.

Robin nodded. He leaned his head on Julian’s shoulder and said, “Yes. She with Annie now. I bet they’re pointing at us now and calling us silly names.”

Julian snorted. “She liked doing that, didn’t she?”

“Was good for her. She was too quiet in life. Always lost inside her own head, you know? Annie helped with that.”

“I kind of wish I’d gotten to know her – Annie, I mean,” Julian said, a little wistfully. “She sounds like one hell of a woman.”

Robin’s eyes flitted over to Annie’s star, just to the left of Mary’s and twinkling almost as brightly as hers was. He had a feeling she was laughing at them. “She would have – how you say? – eaten you for breakfast?”

“Ha, I’d have liked to see her try,” Julian boasted.

The grin in his voice made Robin smile. “You two would have gotten along good – after she put you in your place.”

Before Julian could protest, he tilted his head up to press a kiss against the underside of Julian’s jaw to show him he was just teasing. The gesture made the corner of Julian’s mouth twitch with unrestrained fondness.

Good, Robin thought and, pleased with himself, settled his head back down on Julian’s shoulder.

After a moment of silence, Julian nodded up at the sky again and asked, very quietly, “How many friends have you got up there, Robin?”

Robin looked up at the stars and felt a lump forming in his throat. He did not like to count the people he had lost, not if he could help it. The one time he had, the sheer number had been so staggering it had driven him mad – quite literally – for a while. He sometimes joked about the past or used it to make a point, but he rarely talked about the people he missed. His heart could not bear the reminder that he was the only one who remembered them; that, eventually, inevitably, everyone left. It simply was not built to carry so much sorrow in it.

“Too many,” he said at last, his voice rough. “Some went up to the stars so long ago I’ve forgotten their names. Some did not even have names.”

“Sorry,” Julian said softly. His arms tightened around Robin in wordless reassurance and, grateful for the comfort, Robin leaned into the touch. For a moment, he allowed himself to remember nights just like this when he’d sat alone in an empty field and stared up at the same starry sky. The grief had felt so overwhelming back then with no one to share it with. It didn’t feel so now.

A flash of white shot across the sky high above them and disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

“Oh,” Julian breathed. “I can’t even remember the last time I saw one of those.”

“What you call them again? Chuting stars?” Robin asked, grateful for the distraction.

Julian gave him an amused look. “Shooting stars. You’re supposed to make a wish when you see one.”

Robin frowned up at dark patch of sky where the light had vanished. “Why, though? Me never got that.”

“I don’t know, actually,” Julian said. “I bet Thomas does. This sort of whimsical thing would be right up his alley, wouldn’t it?”

Robin hummed thoughtfully. “Back when I was alive, we thought falling stars were our family and friends being born again. Is why children born on starry nights were special. They could be Moonah and Star Child.” He felt Julian’s eyes on him and huffed out a laugh. “Don’t look at me like that. I was born Storm Child. My mother said was good because wolves and bears could not hear her scream over thunder. In hindsight, me think it was bad omen.”

He felt Julian snort against his hair. “You think?”

“Is not funny,” Robin grumbled. “You get hit by lightning and see if you feel like laughing.”

Calmingly, Julian’s hand rubbed up and down his arm. “At least it gave you a cool ghost power.”

Robin considered that. “Is pretty cool, yes. But only work for last hundred years or so, so yours is better.”

“It’s not a competition, love,” Julian said and pressed a kiss against his temple. “I like it, by the way – the idea of people being reborn when a stars falls from the sky. It’s better than making a wish that won’t come true anyway.”

There was a bitterness to Julian’s tone that tugged at Robin’s heart. He knew what wish Julian was talking about. He also knew the chance of Rachel Fawcett ever coming to Button House was slim at best, even with Alison’s help.

“Who you think it was, then?” he asked, trying to distract Julian from the hopelessness of it all. “The one who just fell from the sky?”

“Is it cheating if I say Mary?” Julian asked. “I just think she would have a blast being alive today.”

Robin smiled and looked back up at Mary’s star. “I think is too soon for Mary. But you’re right, she would have time of her life. Can you imagine her driving car, though? She’d probably be cursing everyone for going too slow.”

Julian laughed, and Robin’s heart warmed when he felt the vibrations of it against his ear. It was one of his favourite sounds in the world and he hoped – sometimes prayed and even quietly begged – that he would be lucky enough to hear it for many more years to come.

“Who do you think it was?” Julian asked after a moment.

Robin’s eyes wandered to a different star in the sky; smaller, less bright but all the prettier for it. “I always hope Sophie gets second chance at life. Was not her fault marriage to Humphrey was failure.” Remembering all the days he had silently walked beside her in the gardens, he sighed. “She had lovely smile but never much reason to show it. Was a shame.”

Julian rested his head against his. “Let’s make a wish for Sophie, then – that whatever life she was just born into will be a good one, and that she’ll never go a day without a smile.”

Robin glanced up at him. “I thought wish was supposed to be made in secret.”

“Oh hush,” Julian said. Robin could not quite see his face in the dark but he knew Julian was rolling his eyes at him in a very fond manner. “I’m sure the shooting star doesn’t care.”

No, Robin thought, I suppose it doesn’t.

For a while, neither of them spoke. They settled into a comfortable silence, lost in their thoughts among the stars, and Robin felt suddenly, incredibly blessed that he had found someone like Julian to share such moments with. It had been so long since he’d allowed anyone else to carry the weight in his heart, even for just a little while, and it felt good to talk about it all – the people he missed, the hopes he had, the things he’d wish for if he could. It never ceased to amaze him how gracefully Julian bore it all, how willing he was to lend a listening ear or loving touch. He was so different from the Julian Fawcett he liked to present to the rest of the world on a daily basis that Robin knew he was very lucky Julian allowed him to see this side of him: the one that was fragile, raw and vulnerable and felt so very, very deeply.

Closing his eyes, he followed Julian’s example and made a wish: Please let Sophie be happy.

When he opened his eyes again, he looked back up at the stars. Taking in their beautiful light that had shown him the way home so many times before, he turned to Julian and watched it dance across his face. With a soft smile, Robin reached up and gently tilted Julian’s head down for a deep, lingering kiss.

And let us too be happy for a while.

#robin the caveman #julian fawcett #chess husbands #bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts fanfic #my fic #ask game prompt ficlet

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little-cereal-draws · 3 months

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There was a pause before the sound of angry footsteps approached them. Fanny stuck her head through the doorway. “Augh! And who are you supposed to be??”

“Wha-? What do you mean?” Alison said with a confused smile.

“Stop stuttering! Who are you?? Why are you in my house??”

“Who am I? I’m Alison.” Fanny still looked confused so she added, “Cooper? I’ve lived here for years?”

“Oh, no, you have not! I would’ve surely noticed if improper vagrants such as yourselves lived here! I– Oh… you’re two more of George’s lovers. I see how it is. Well, let me just say that I’ve found out your dirty little secret and I will be making sure you’re all punished to the full extent of the law!!”

Mike shot up from his seat, eyes wide, what was happening finally setting in. “I can see you!”

“Well, of course you can see me! And stop pointing, it’s rude! I– eugh– I don’t have time for this! George! You better be saying your prayers because when I find you I’m going to–”

She stormed away and Mike and Alison turned to each other with horrified expressions.

AKA all the ghosts get reset to the day they died and Mike can see them. This is based off a post on tumblr. I've literally been looking for two and half hours and I can't find it so I think it got deleted. Basically, it said that Ghosts missed out on having an amnesia episode where the ghosts forget their memories of the afterlife and get reset to the day they died so I wanted to try my hand at how that would go.

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northern-typist · 7 months

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father of the bride ~ bbc ghosts ~ part one (of two)

A/N ~ Alright folks, this is just a quick two-parter that I came up with on a long car journey. I’ve taken some liberties with the ‘Rachel Fawcett’ character and melded her into my own version.

button house, may

Rachel Fawcett was many things - a liberal, environmentally cautious, an acute over thinker and a whiz at pub quizzes.

One thing she was not, however, was a coward. No. Fawcett’s were not cowards, they couldn’t be (and wouldn’t,) the notion weaved into their DNA at conception.

But as she indicated up the long, winding drive, her stomach started to swallow her whole. Rain lashing down onto the windscreen. Wind blowing the car about. Bad omen? Maybe so. Button House was the place her father had passed away. She’d been warned against going by almost everyone she spoke to about the matter. Her friends, her mother - especially her mother. She could hear her condemnations now-

"Why in Christ would you want to host your wedding there?"

But Rachel had been adamant, she wanted her wedding day to be special and this was the place it was going to be (luckily her fiancé agreed and that was that.)

Parking the car by the cracked fountain, she gathered her belongings and exited. Instantly, the door swung open, a beaming and slightly nervous Alison Cooper greeted her. Her eyes briefly darting behind her, but straight back to Rachel.

“Hi.” Rachel greeted quietly, “sorry that I’m late, I couldn’t quite find the place and then-“ she motioned to the house, “you know.” Daniel always told her she was incredibly brave, but she doubted that right then.

Alison just shrugged. “Oh, it’s fine. Glad you still were able to make it.”

“I wouldn’t miss this,” she raced to the front door and entered, Alison making way, “finding a place to host a wedding is difficult enough these days, what with the cost of everything, so we’re incredibly grateful.”

“Is he coming?”

It took Rachel a moment, taking off her damp coat and frowning, but then- “Oh, yes, Dan! He’s travelling down from Edinburgh, got some work thing. He’ll be here though; he's dying to check out the house before the big day.”

“Great.” Alison grinned, taking Rachel’s coat and hanging it up. “Make yourself at home, I’ll get the kettle on and find Mike, he should be around here somewhere.”

Leaving Rachel alone, Alison headed off towards the kitchen, closing the door behind her and bracing herself for the oncoming storm, and OH boy, was that storm turning into a hurricane…

Alison stirred the teabag and inhaled, the voices around her all drowning into one. Finally, the spoon was placed down, and she turned, addressing her posse of ghosts.

“Alright, one question at a time please.”

Thomas went first. “Who is that beauty? You must introduce us, Alison.”

“Absolutely not, next”

Then it was Kitty. “She’s very familiar, has she been to one of your parties, or maybe a guest.”

“Hopefully she's not one of your God-awful friends. Highly unacceptable people.” Fanny interjected brashly, she had a point.

Alison gritted her teeth, ignoring the slight on her friends and turned towards the remaining three, “Anything from you?”

“Are we allowed to attend the party?” Pat enquired, excited about the prospect of more lovely music and people in the house.

“Of course, Pat, of course.”

Robin grunted happily - that had also been his question, so that left The Captain. He adjusted his swagger stick and stood straighter. “Anything to report about this one? Anything of interest?”

Alison picked up the cups and nodded firmly. “She’s here to host her wedding, that’s all. But wanted to see the place first. She’s staying for a night or two, just whilst her fiancé joins her. He hasn't seen the house yet. Oh- actually, there’s actually something I wanted to speak to Julian about,” she peered around the excited group but couldn’t see the suspect, “where’s Julian?”

Rachel felt oddly at home here… and she couldn’t place why. Every furnishing felt like a memory that she’d secretly repressed. Staring at the crackling fire, Rachel picked at her sleeve, unable to fully relax into the plush settee. Regardless of the warmth of the room, a shiver ran down her spine. A brief glance around the room.

Nothing…

Except for the pant-less ghost wavering a few feet behind the blonde newcomer, not that Rachel could see him. Julian didn’t need an introduction, he knew exactly who this was. His blue eyes stared down. Unable to look away. In all his time with the dead, he’d wondered what she would look like now. Sure, Alison had shown him those pages on the computer, the occasional mention on the Radio. He even remembers hearing a brief mention of her on the 6 o’clock News - she had switched parties during a rather difficult voting period, a Red now, not a Green.

This was his daughter, his Rachel.

“There you are!”

Both father and daughter turned to face the door, Alison standing with a bright smile and two cups of tea. Julian met Alison’s eye curiously as she entered, a silent question - ‘when was you going to tell me?’ Alison tried to brush him off with a smile and seated herself on Rachel’s right.

“Here you go.” Alison said softly, handing Rachel the brew. She then motioned for Julian to join them. It was subtle, but he took the invitation gladly, perching on the coffee table.

“Cheers Alison.” Rachel grinned.

Alison and Rachel spent a moment sipping on their beverages, which gave Alison the opportunity to observe the father-daughter duo. There wasn’t much of a difference. The same bold blue eyes, sandy-blonde hair - with a middle parting, Fawcett’s all had them, she remembered Julian once telling her.

“So, how do you like the house?” Alison queried, hopeful.

Rachel took another long sip and smiled softly. “It’s a beautiful house, you and Mike should be very proud of yourselves. I can’t wait for Dan to see it,” another sip, “but lord knows how long that’ll take, that storm doesn’t look like it’s going to stop.”

“Dan? Who’s Dan?”

“We’re trying with it,” Alison said. “We didn’t think we’d be hosting anymore weddings, to be honest—“

“What’s this about a wedding-“

“I’m bloody glad that you still are.” Rachel breathed, “my mother warned against coming here, said that I would bring shame upon the family, upon my party.” Julian held his breath, his wife was correct, as she always had been, yet Rachel persisted, “but I don’t care about all of that, I know you probably know about my father and how he… Well, the circumstances of his death.”

Alison kept one eye on Julian and on Rachel, then nodded. “I’ve been told. Sorry, by the way, I know that was probably hard for you to learn.”

Instead of sadness there was only hints of humour from Rachel. “Don’t be sorry, us Fawcett’s are a different breed, he may be gone and may have been a colossal idiot-“

“But he was your father.”

“He was my dad.”

And in that moment, the two girls knew they had an unspoken With that, the pair continued to drink their tea, falling into small talk about their lives. Julian opened his mouth but found he couldn’t speak. His throat tight, eyes slightly watering. Instead he exited the room, slowly, slightly forlorn. His thoughts still in the warmth of the room as he meandered through the corridors in search of his ghostly friends.

The storm had lessened by eight but there was still no sign of Dan, just a text to say that his train would be delayed, no surprises there. Mike ordered a round of Pizza’s, enjoyed by the humans and envied by the ghosts, then the couple sent a tired Rachel to nap, stating that: “they’d wait for Dan.”

Julian hadn’t said much during dinner, the other ghosts had taken note, but waited until Mike had sauntered upstairs to watch the latest episode of Big Brother (it wasn’t really Alison’s thing.) The remaining residents of Button House sat and stood, waiting for Julian to begin talking.

He sensed the group’s questions, so decided to address them. “She’s my daughter.”

“That’s Rachel?” Pat cried with wide eyes.

“That’s Rachel, my Rachel. It appears that she’s having her wedding here.”

Fanny frowned, crossing her arms. “And she’s aware that you died here, like that.” She motioned to his bottom half. Julian nodded silently causing her to just shake her head.

“That’s a good thing, right?” Thomas chimed in from the settee, “Your daughter must not hold a grudge, she must have some semblance of respect for you, but I’m not sure why.”

“Amen.” Fanny supplied.

Alison glanced around the room, stopping at Julian, tentative. “How do you feel about all of this?”

“It’s… Hard. She’s not a pixel on a screen anymore, she’s here.” Julian adjusted a cuff link and sniffled, he wouldn’t cry in front of them. “But Margot seems to have done well, all things considered.”

The Captain made to add to the conversation when a rapturous knock echoed on the front door downstairs. The group shot up, running straight to the windows. They couldn’t see who was there, the rain now pelting the glass harder. Alison rose from her spot by the chess board and raced down, ghosts in hot pursuit, to the front door. The knocking continued. Unlocking it, she swung the door open and stared out at the stranger.

“It’s Dan, right?” Alison gasped.

The stranger turned and lowered the hood of their coat, nodding and bundling inside quickly, glad to be out of the storm.

Dan shook out the rain from his greying hair and smiled at Alison, who was trying to switch on the nearest lamp, “Hi, yes, I’m Dan.”

He stretched out a polite hand and Alison finally got a chance to see his face, but could only gasp at him - the gasp reverberating amongst the ghosts also. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t possible.

The Captain grasped his swagger-stick, standing frozen alongside Julian, and felt his heart plummet into his stomach, if such a thing could happen to a dead man.

Dan was the spitting image of The Captain, just a few years younger and no moustache.

Cutting through the small silence was light footsteps on the stairs, quickly descending to the front door. Rachel reached the bottom, ghosts jumping out of her way, as she raced into Dan’s slightly damp arms. As the pair embraced - the group stared and stared.

“Good Lord.” The Captain muttered.

Well, this was certainly a new development.

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts fanfic #bbc ghosts imagine #rachel fawcett #julian fawcett #the captain #don’t mind me #back on my bullshit

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soppybitorag · 7 months

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I'm not saying I'm Ben Willbond but I wrote a fic 2 days ago about Captain and Happy Endings and Havers and actually??? I wasn't that far off from what actually happened ! carpe diem folks ur never that far off !!!

#bbc ghosts #the captain #bbc ghosts captain #captain #ben willbond #bbc ghosts spoilers #bbc ghosts s5 spoilers #bbc ghosts havers #bbc ghosts season 5 #bbc ghosts fanfic

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wintertomate · 1 month

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Another Capvers fic incoming!! Hello Ghosts fandom please don’t be dead…

In this short and sweet one-shot it’s Easter and there’s cricket - but there’s also the Captain’s achy knees that turn a lovely day sour. If only someone in the unit knew how to make them better…

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts fanfic #capvers

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moonah-rose · 16 days

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Moonah Blessing

Robin drags Alison out with Mia swaddled in her arms under the first full moon after she brings her home. Yes she had, somewhat jokingly, agreed to do this before she was born but now with Mike's mum there and already sleep deprived, Alison regrets making that promise. But Robin is as insistent as Mary was with the wedding traditions.

Best to get it over with before her mother in law wakes and spots her out here with the baby like a crazy woman. She does as the caveman instructs and holds the sleeping baby above her head while Robin gives the blessing.

"Thanks be to Moonah! Please watch over little one, be good light for her. Protect from wolves, bears, sickness and 5G which Robin hear is very bad!"

"Right, is that it?" Alison asks, barely able to keep her eyes open.

"Well now you supposed to sacrifice hare and let blood drip on baby's head."

She just throws him a look that could cut through glass.

Robin waves his hand; "Eh, me sure moonah won't mind. Baby will live now. At least till fifth birthday. After that, survival of fittest."

The infant coos, stirring a little in her mother's arms. Alison manages a smile, happy for her daughter to spend what little time she could lately with her strange extended family.

"Well she says 'thank you very much, Uncle Robin'."

"Haha, baby can't talk, silly."

Alison shakes her head; "I'm going back to bed."

#bbc ghosts #robin the caveman #alison cooper #mia cooper #bbc ghosts fanfic

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spineless-lobster · 4 months

Text

I did it!!!! I delivered on my promise!!!! I got y'all some angsty capvers this evening, you can thank me (or threaten me) later <3

(it's based on this post but you know that)

#bbc ghosts #the captain #lieutenant havers #bbc ghosts fanfic #my fanfic #capvers #big sad with this one

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ailendolin · 3 months

Note

For the Christmas prompt 800folloeer celebration

ship: The Captain/Thomas

Prompt: Fluff, Fireplace

Thank you so much for this prompt! This is my first Captain/Thomas fic so I hope it does not disappoint. I also hope you can forgive me for the angsty beginning but I just got this idea in my head and just had to write it. Hopefully the fluff at the end will make up for it.

List of prompts is here. Filled prompts are here, here, here, here and here on AO3.

Prompts are closed.

————

Thorn(e) [AO3]

“Ah, there you are!” the Captain said when he finally spotted Thomas by the fireplace in the drawing room. “I’ve been looking all over for you. It’s nearly time for Film Club!”

Usually, Thomas would turn around and smile at him now, bright and beautiful and happy. Over the last few months, the Captain had come to love that smile and found it hard to believe that it had taken him so long to take notice of it. But he was taking notice of it, had even come to expect it ever since this gentle, loving thing between them had begun. So when Thomas kept staring into the fire and merely acknowledged his presence with a half-hearted shrug rather than that lovely, boyish smile of his, the Captain frowned in confusion.

“Thomas?” he asked cautiously, stepping closer to the sofa.

Thomas sighed. It was a quiet, weary sound; one the Captain had truly believed to be a thing of the past. “I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for Film Club today.”

“But – it’s your turn to choose!” the Captain stammered, perplexed. He knew better than anyone how much Thomas had been looking forward to this. Just last night, he had talked his ear off in his excitement, and the Captain found it difficult to reconcile that energetic and happy Thomas with the disinterested one before him.

“You can choose for me,” Thomas said as if he couldn’t care less. He shifted so he was facing the fire a little more. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get back to my work.”

Stunned, the Captain stared at the back of his head for a moment. Somewhere behind him, the old grandfather clock chimed, announcing the hour and with it the start of Film Club, but he stayed rooted to the spot, unable to shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong and it was somehow his fault.

“You’re upset,” he realised with a sinking feeling that only grew worse when Thomas’s shoulders tensed, confirming his suspicions. Gripping his swagger stick tightly, the Captain rounded the sofa and sat down, though not as close as he normally would. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “Is it because of me? Have I done something to upset you?”

Thomas’s breathing hitched, and even though the Captain still could not see his face he knew Thomas was biting his lip to keep whatever treacherous sounds were trying to claw their way up his throat muted. It was a predicament he was only too familiar with, and it hurt to see Thomas battling with it now. They had grown so close over the last few months – close enough that the Captain had thought they’d reached the point where they could talk to each other about everything: Anthony, Isabelle, the ones who came before them – all the love that had never gotten a chance to bloom, and all the wounds that had never quite managed to heal.

But it seemed he had been wrong.

“Thomas,” he tried again, placing a hand on Thomas’s arm. “Talk to me. Please. If I don’t know what I’ve done, I can’t make sure not to do it again.”

“You won’t want to anyway,” Thomas whispered, hanging his head. He sounded so defeated that the Captain felt fear rise in his chest. This felt like Havers all over again, only more hopeless. The ball was in his court and the Captain suddenly knew with awful clarity that Thomas would slip through his fingers just like Havers had if he didn’t do something now. So as gently as he could, he moved his hand down Thomas’s arm and laced their fingers together.

“Please,” he said and gave Thomas’s hand a squeeze, hoping the reassuring touch would be enough.

Almost unwillingly, Thomas looked down at their intertwined hands. He stared at them for a moment, and there was heartbreak written all over his face when he finally whispered, “You called me Thorne.”

The words were so faint the crackling fire almost swallowed them but they rang as loudly as bells in the Captain’s ears. He did not let go of Thomas’s hand but he involuntarily tensed as the instinctive urge to defend himself took over. “We’ve talked about this, Thomas. We agreed we would not change how we behave in front of the others, at least for the time being.”

Thomas huffed out a humourless laugh before he untangled their hands and wrapped his arms around his chest, almost like a shield. “I told you you wouldn’t want to change.”

“Now listen, it’s not that I don’t–“ The Captain stopped, suddenly struck by the realisation that Thomas expected him to argue. No, worse – that Thomas had resigned himself to the fact that he would stand his ground and not move an inch from his position. That was why he hadn’t wanted to say anything in the first place. Lack of trust was not the issue here and never had been; it was the inevitability of the outcome. And he had almost proven him right.

The thought made the Captain sadder than he’d felt in a very long time.

Taking a deep breath, he firmly pushed down the instinct to argue and instead asked quietly, “Why does it bother you so much?”

Thomas’s fingers tightened briefly on his vest before he went completely still. For a long moment that felt like eternity to the Captain, the only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire to their right and the faint laughter from their fellow ghosts filtering through the old wood from above.

They must be watching a comedy, the Captain assumed, and part of him bristled at the thought since the others had not even waited for them – had not even bothered to ask Thomas if he was okay with someone else choosing the film today. There were rules to follow and he was severely disappointed in them, not to mention angry with them on Thomas’s behalf. They might be getting away with it now but the Captain vowed to himself that next Film Club, he would make sure Thomas would get his rightful turn.

“Did you know my mother remarried when I was young?” Thomas suddenly asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Confused as to where this was going, the Captain shook his head. “No. I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned it before.”

“Well, she did,” Thomas said. His voice was brittle, like the branch of a dying tree. “I was too young to understand why my father had left but not young enough not to realise he wouldn’t come back. The man my mother married a few months later was always loving and kind to her and my younger half-siblings – the perfect husband and father. Just not to me. To him, I was like dirt under my mother’s shoes she’d dragged into their home and he couldn’t get rid of. He fed me, clothed me, educated me, yes, but he never saw me as his son. When my mother took his name, I was made to keep my own: Thomas Thorne. A constant reminder that I was quite literally a thorn in his side and did not belong.”

Thomas sniffed and seemed to curl in on himself as if the weight of the memories was too much to bear, even after all these years.

“Whenever he was displeased with me, he would call me Thorne, just like you used to,” he continued and the Captain’s heart fell as he realised how many years he had poked and prodded at an open, bleeding wound without meaning to.

“I didn’t know,” he whispered, stricken.

“You couldn’t have,” Thomas said, always quick to forgive, even now. “But you did remind me of him. And that’s why it bothers me, Captain. That’s why it hurts so much more now and why I cannot bear to see the same derision that has haunted me my whole childhood written all over your face when we’re around the others. It might not be real – I know it’s not, it’s just pretend – but it feels real, and my heart breaks a little more with each sneer and every mocking word.”

There was so much pain in his voice, so much hurt, that the Captain felt his throat close up. How had he not realised how much suffering he had caused? He should have noticed how quiet Thomas had become during the days, and how he tended to hold his tongue now when Julian tried to get a rise out of him; how desperate he seemed for gentleness when they found themselves alone in the evening, and how mournful he looked when dawn broke and they parted ways for the day.

“I’m sorry,” the Captain choked out as he realised how terribly he’d failed Thomas, both as his partner and his friend. He’d honestly, genuinely believed they were on the same page when Thomas had agreed to keep their relationship a secret. It had not even occurred to him that he might have done that out of love, just to make things easier for him, but now that he knew, it took his breath away. The last time anyone had loved him so much, so unconditionally, the Captain had lain dying on the floor, holding onto a swagger stick and warm, gentle hands for dear life, and just like then the weight of it all made it hard to speak. “I’m so sorry, Thomas. I … I–“

Thomas exhaled softly and finally turned around to face him. His eyes were shimmering wetly in the flickering light of the flames, and there was understanding and forgiveness in them the Captain didn’t think he deserved. “I know this is hard for you – I’ve always known that, even before we shared our first kiss. I’ve never minded waiting for you to be ready, Captain.”

Waiting …

The Captain had spent most of his life waiting for someone to look at him as if he were the centre of their universe. And for one brief, fleeting moment, he’d had it all in his grasp when his name fell from Havers’s lips and their hands touched with all the love and tenderness they were never able to put into words. But when the pain in his chest became unbearable, the Captain had known he had waited too long. They could have had it all if he had just been brave a little sooner.

Looking at Thomas, he realised he was about to make the same mistake again. By pretending there was nothing between them he was holding him at arm’s length just like he’d had Havers, and just like Havers Thomas was letting him take the lead. But a relationship did not require a leader – it required love, patience and understanding. Sometimes, that meant putting the other first. In his case, it also meant their relationship could not continue to revolve around his own comfort, least of all if it came at the cost of Thomas’s happiness.

“You shouldn’t have to wait,” he said softly before he lowered his eyes in shame. “You have already waited long enough.”

Somehow, Thomas managed a trembling smile. “It’s about the only thing I’m good at.”

Good Lord, the Captain thought and pulled him close. His heart broke at the small, broken noise Thomas made. One of his hands found its way into Thomas’s curls while the other came to rest in-between his shoulder blades, and Thomas melted against him as if he had been waiting to be held the entire day.

“What would you have me do?” the Captain whispered against his neck, desperate to make this right.

Thomas’s fingers dug into his uniform, almost as if he was afraid the Captain would disappear if he didn’t hold onto him with all his might.

“Don’t call me Thorne again,” he begged. His voice, thick with emotion, broke on his name. “I don’t need us to hold hands in front of the others or – or kiss in public but I would ask that you call me Thomas. If it’s not too much.”

“Heavens, no,” the Captain said and closed his eyes against the emotions surging up within him. “It’s not too much, Thomas.”

Thomas sighed softly against his neck.

“Thank you,” he breathed. Slowly, the tension drained from his body, and when one of his hands found its way over to the Captain’s aching heart, the Captain reached for it and held it in his own with all the gentleness he usually reserved for the privacy of their bedrooms. A part of him wanted to tell Thomas not to thank him; that this small compromise wasn’t worth any words of gratitude. But even he knew this was not the time to argue so he simply pressed his lips to the top of Thomas’s head and let them linger there in silent reassurance.

From somewhere above them, laughter echoed through the house, faint but joyful. It was a reminder that someone might walk in on them any moment and Thomas tensed, ready to pull away. Carefully, deliberately, the Captain tightened his hold and tipped them backwards until they were lying against the cushions.

Questioningly, Thomas tilted his head up to look at him. The Captain smiled. “Let’s enjoy the fire for a little while.”

Thomas’s eyes softened. He might not need to hold his hand in public but the Captain knew that didn’t actually mean that Thomas didn’t crave moments like this – romantic situations he had read about in books and seen in movies countless of times yet never experienced himself. The grateful smile on his face said it all when he rested his head on the Captain’s shoulder and relaxed in his arms again, content. “This is nice.”

It was, the Captain thought as he gazed at the flames. They obviously could not feel the warmth of the fire but there was something mesmerising and, dare he say, soothing about watching it crackle merrily away while the house was mostly quiet around them; peaceful even.

Still …

“I hope it’s a little better than nice,” he couldn’t help but tease.

He didn’t need to look down to know that Thomas’s eyes were crinkling at the corners.

“It’s lovely,” Thomas smiled before he added with a wistful sigh, “Almost like a dream.”

The Captain pressed another kiss against his hair – an apology for not having done this before, and a reassurance that all the secrecy would end one day. He was not quite ready for the world, small as it might be in their case, to know about them; too many years spent hiding who he was had left their mark. But he could feel it becoming easier to imagine with every smile Thomas graced him with, be it small and shy or wide and full of joy. It was that smile he wanted to be brave for, and if that meant walking into the drawing room with Thomas holding hands one day and enduring Julian’s no doubt merciless teasing about it, then so be it. Their love deserved to be out in the open, not hidden away like some shameful thing.

“Thomas?” he asked softly. When no reply came, the Captain glanced down and found him fast asleep against his chest. Smiling softly to himself, he dropped another kiss onto Thomas’s head before he allowed his own eyes to close. If his calculations were right, they had about another hour until Film Club was over – long enough for them both to get some rest. The Captain realised it was risky but he trusted that the old grandfather clock would wake him in time.

And besides, if he had learned one thing about love it was that some people were worse the risk.

————

The next morning, after they’d all gathered for Food Club and it’d been Thomas’s turn, the Captain straightened his back, cleared his throat and, swagger stick pointing at Julian, said, “Now, Julian, personal feelings aside, Thomas’s choice for breakfast is perfectly reasonable. You’re just arguing for the sake of arguing now.”

He chanced a glance over to Thomas and was met with a small but breathtakingly beautiful smile.

Ah yes, the Captain thought to himself, pleased, as Julian rounded in on him with a lecture on respectable breakfast choices that did not include any mention of him using Thomas’s given name whatsoever. Well worth the risk.

#thomas thorne #the captain #capthorne #bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts fanfic #my fic #ask game prompt ficlet

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