#she's blues but it feels like it belongs in this category

[artemismatchalatte]

My favorite genre of country music: YEE HAW, YOU FUCKING CHEATER!!!

bonus if it's sung by an angry woman!

[hazelfoureyes]

Alastor in Rut (one shot)

Rutting Alastor x Fem Rabbit Reader

Less than confident and lacking much in the way of assertiveness, you find hell to be scary. But, a very kind and helpful deer demon has a solution! Just in time, as an unexpected rut hits him and he feels the need to reel you in.

this is pure self indulgence. Shout out to @jazzmasternot , @lustylita , @sugoi-writes , and @minkdelovely for keeping me sane and horny (with art lol)

「Warnings/Promises: actual warning - mentions of accidental vehicular homicide and reader's death, Marathon Smut, p in v, finger almost in a?, anal is considered, knotting because fuck it, attempt at breeding, womb flooded, not dubcon but everyone in the hotel thinks it is, slightly repetitive fucking because he wont waste semen on other holes, Alastor would fuck anyone but you’re the most amusing, Alastor doesn’t think he’s the good guy which is honestly kinda cute, deadass talk about making you carry his fawns?? Why is it so hot?? Knock me up deer man bleat bleat bitch, implied previous relationship with a human man, plans to cuckold your ex, heat, blue fire isn’t hot, you’re tricked into a deal with Alastor, kinda size kink, demon Alastor, minor aftercare, a little sexual choking (as a treat)」

Hey--- we're all here for something. This is 10000 words, 5300 or so is smut. Smut starts at the bright green divider for you impatient and horny deeries.

MINORS YOU KNOW THE DRILL DNI

The line for reception was long, but that was to be expected. After the extermination ended early and Adam killed on television by a maid, the Hazbin Hotel had been busy. Or so you overheard others saying. You’d only been in hell a day, lucky enough to catch the advertisements and hear the gossip for the hotel soon after your descent.

You recognized the princess immediately, but not that tall man beside her. He wasn’t doing anything, just staring and smiling. Was he friendly? Were there friendly people in hell? Truly friendly. Not high school girl friendly. Or hungry witch friendly. He had witch vibes.

“Hiya welcome to the”, she took a deep breath in, “Hazbin Hotel! I am Charlie! This is Alastor! What did you do to bring you to hell? Gotta know so we can cater your redemption activities to your sins!”

She was staring at you so happily, pen over paper. Your eyes nervously shot to the man, who leaned down in response.

“I fell asleep driving and killed someone, and myself.”

Everything about Charlie was frozen still except the sudden glossiness forming over her eyes. “You… you… were you like, a thief or… did you…… push old ladies into traffic?”

You shook your head no.

“Gluttonous? She asked.

“No, I wasn’t a fan of overindulgence.”

“Prideful, then?” 

“Unfortunately… I don’t think too highly of myself. Living or dead.” Your hand came to your down turned rabbit ears, sad and limp. Even in death you weren’t the right kind of anything.

“Uhh,” Charlie clicked her pen furiously again and again, “Lustful?”

“Just the one partner. My highschool sweetheart.”

A sweat was forming on Charlie’s brow, “Sloth?”

“I did fall asleep behind the wheel… but it was from working 25 hours of overtime this week.”

Charlie put the pen down, “I don’t think you belong in hell. You made an accident. That’s not how sins should work…”

Your eyes bore holes into the desk, avoiding eye contact, “I don’t think heaven cares much about that.”

“Poor thing. Let’s circle back, Charlie.” Alastor’s large hand rested on your head, patting twice. 

She nodded, “Good call. I’ll just,” her tongue stuck out as she began to write, “make a new category just for you! Other.”

Yeah that made sense, you thought. That was fitting. This truly was hell. Finally you stood out, as the one who didn’t fit in. You supposed that’s what a wallflower deserved for murder. 

“Follow me little one.”  The tall Alastor instructed you as he snatched a key from the hook and walked past you.

Happily. Small tail uncontrollably swishing as you followed a foot behind him.

A hum of approval, Alastor noticing the distance you kept.

“You obey instructions well.”

You always did. “Thank you.” Tiny and soft, your response made his shadow shift and smile.

It wasn’t a compliment, but the fact you took it as one interested him. Subservient. 

Fun. 

“I take it that you really were a good girl in life, weren’t you?” He swiveled on his heels to face you, the sudden change causing your face to run into his lower chest.

A song of apologies fell from your mouth as you backed up, tripping over your own pathetic attempts at platitude and falling back onto your ass.

He was tall before but now he towered over your, hand outstretched to help you up. You offered a thank you before taking it.

Clawed fingers tightened around your palm. Not letting you pull away. “You’re new to hell, right?”

A glance around, no one else in the hallway, “Is it obvious?”

“Yes. But also, you mentioned work this week.”

A nod, “It’s been maybe a day.”

Delicious.

“Could I offer you some advice?” He leaned down, hand tightening further. Wide eyed and a little frightened with the change in atmosphere, you just nodded again. “It’s very dangerous out there for little prey animals like yourself.”

“Aren’t you also a prey animal?”

His hand uncurled.

A moment of tension, Alastor leaning down further.

A strange sound was coming from his microphone, the best approximation you had was a car radio going haywire skipping through the channels.

“Room 243!” His body popped up and he held the key out for you. The hallway lights seemed to be glowing brighter now.

You grabbed the key, “Thank you!”

Two fourty three was just past him. A small tremble kept you from getting the key in on your first and even second try. 

You didn’t even stop to turn on the light, just pushing the door closed behind you as soon as your body was through the threshold.

The relief barely left with a sigh when you heard it, “You know…”

Frozen, your eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see the shining of his red and pink eyes in front of you.

“I’m somewhat of a deal maker. For a small price, I could help you. Perhaps, you’d like a change of appearance?” His voice seemed to be coming from the walls, above and beside you all at once.

Something lifted a floppy ear. But his eyes were too far from you for it to have been his own hands. A small scream as you smacked at the appendage.

“What do you say? I can use a little magic to make you happier with your new form.” A dark whisper into your right ear. 

Your hands flew to your head before you dropped to your knees to escape the hidden things touching you. 

“What do you want?” To your left now. “Let’s make a trade. A deal.” Above your head. 

His eyes were gone. Just darkness and a soft laugh echoing around you.

Your mind was reeling through possible answers, what did you want? At that moment? In general? 

An answer tumbled out, too quietly.

“Hmm?” His eyes reappeared closer to you and glowing a bloody red. “Speak up, my ears are quite a bit higher than your mouth.”

A second attempt, “Safety. I wanna be safe.” The laughter got louder, mocking you without words.

“A little tougher of an ask.” The sound of something slithering near your feet made you pull your knees tighter to your chest. “But! I’m here to please. In exchange for protection from the more nefarious of hell’s citizens I’ll need something worth my while.”

Of course, that is how deals work, right? A promise with compensation. 

“I don’t have any money, or possessions yet. Maybe I should try again later?” You were lost in the light of his stare and found the darkness deepening around him.

A considered hum, “Well, you’re already dead. You’ve no need for your soul. Damned as it is, give it to me instead. To keep safe. And I’ll always answer your calls for rescue when in harm's way.”

Why would…what use was a soul, you wondered. Was he right? But if he wanted it, surely it had value. You were too new to this world, scared to say yes and part with what little you had. 

At the risk of angering the demon in the darkness of your room, you whispered to yourself and hoped he would hear it, “I think I shouldn’t.”

Hissing in your ear, “Disappointing.”

The lights flickered on, an empty room. A bed. A nightstand. A closet. A bathroom. No tall smiling dealmaker.

A tremor stayed in your hands through the night. 

To your surprise, when you ran into Alastor the next day he was more than kind. He was eavesdropping when you asked Charlie if the hotel needed any staff. Not only did you want to be of use, you were hoping to earn some money. He quickly slid beside Charlie suggesting things you could do. 

Wow, you thought. He didn’t hold a grudge at all. Maybe he had been trying to help before? 

It took a few weeks, but you found a groove. You were a floater between the staff, helping Husk with the restocking of his bar, following behind Niffty with supplies her tiny arms couldn’t carry, and keeping notes for the activities Charlie held. It was vital for you to feel needed and everyone seemed happy to have you around. Hell wasn’t so bad.

“Dear,” Alastor found you holding a basket of towels in the hallway on a rather standard weekday, “I need an errand runner. Do you mind?”

You had been finding Alastor’s presence enjoyable, a little secret you held. He was always smiling, which made you smile in turn. And his manners, well, perfect. You couldn’t understand why such a sweet man was in hell, but then you considered you were also in hell. Mistakes happen, perhaps he was also damned by technicalities. 

Not that you would ask him, you barely spoke a word to the deer demon. Every time he was around you your throat would close up. Oftentimes you would pull your hands behind your back to shield the wiggle of your too-honest tail. 

When he would speak to you, you would get so focused on the sound of his voice and watching his mouth move you’d actually not hear a damn thing he said. You must have looked like an absolute airhead, always replying, “What?” every time he finished a statement. 

“Hellooo, anyone home in there?” He knocked gently on your skull. Ah, those big hands again. He watched the pink bloom across your cheeks, your hands coming to your ears to pull them down as your mind wandered off.  A snap of his fingers finally brought you back.

“Sorry, what?” Your eyes were bright as you finally made the journey all the way up to his face.

“Welcome back. I need some stuff picked up from a shop downtown. I can’t leave right now, mind hopping over for me?” The grin he offered you made you melt.

“Of course!” That damn tail shaking behind you, “What am I picking up?”

He waved his hand, “Not important, it’ll be all wrapped up and waiting.” The radio effect of his voice grew, “I’ll write down the address.”

Terrible handwriting. You could barely read it, but didn’t want to insult him so you just nodded as he followed you to the doors. Pausing, you realized it was your first time leaving the hotel alone. 

“What’s wrong? Not up to it?”

You shook your head, “No! I can do it. Thank you.”

A pounding in your chest made you question if you were actually dead. But despite your concerns, no one bothered you beyond some catcalling and intense glares. Staring at the paper, you struggled to decipher the address. Was that a 7 or a 1? A 4 or a 9…? You were in the general area, the street name lined up and the first couple numbers of the address too.

You brought the paper closer to your face, maybe if you really inspected it you could figure it out. 

A shriek, dropping the paper to felt a small goblin-like creature pushing at your knees. Another, then another, began to appear from the shadows of the street. Black and white little creatures pushing and pulling at your legs until you tumbled over.

“Help!” You thought it was a shout, but it came out as a soft spoken request, the tone itself adding a ‘please’ to the end. 

They weren’t hurting you, just knocking you over every time you tried to stand up like grade school bullies. You managed, the creatures relenting momentarily before a stockier one materialized. A step back, what did they want? Money? You pulled out your wallet and opened it but the large one smacked it to the ground. 

That quick heart skipped a beat when your back hit against something solid. As your head bent backwards, you could see those red and pink eyes looming over you. 

“Oh dear. Trouble already?” 

You could cry. You did cry, a little, at the sight of a familiar face. With a flourish of his hands, those previously unseen tendrils whipped from his back and flung the aimless attackers away. 

Rescue! You hugged his waist, a chorus of ‘thank yous’ and ‘Oh, Alastor!’ into his chest. 

“Now now, can’t even be a proper task rabbit. You really do need some safeguarding.” He peeled you off him, brushing his coat off. Your mind thought back to the offer. “And I don’t see my purchase… didn’t complete the task either?”

You shrunk, you’d entirely failed him. His smirk was one sided, eyes half lidded and expression dramatically disappointed. Alastor sighed and turned to walk away from you. You’d let him down. He’d been nothing but accommodating and gentle.

“I’m sorry! Alastor!” You grabbed his wrist, eyes shut so you didn’t see the green glow of arcane symbols floating up around him. “Can I please have that deal? Please. I’m sorry, you have my soul as payment.”

Painless, selling your soul. With a handshake, a little light show, and a whirling of magic, you had done it.

“Excellent choice!” Alastor patted your head, “I’ll come to your aid when you’re scared for your life! Aaaand in return, your soul is mine. Easy peasy, yes?”

Fine, not an issue in the slightest. “Do I need to do anything?”

“About what?” His eyes wandered to inspect his fingernails.

“My soul.”

A barking laugh, “No. You’re tied to me now, dear. As for my end, just call my name when you’re in danger and I’ll,” a flourish of his talons, “rescue you.” His smile strained as he peered down at your little face, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m so happy to have the help, thank you Alastor! You really are just, amazing. Your mother raised you right.” Your hands were holding your cheeks, grateful and feeling a little less alone.

The mention of his mother made his back straighten, a bloom in his chest he knew all too well to be pride. Finally, someone was vocalizing his better qualities. Well, other than Charlie. But impressing Charlie was like making a dog think you’d thrown a ball. Just a little quick whirl of your hands and a couple sweet words with a smile and she’d be all wagging tail as she ran to retrieve nothing. 

But he supposed you were very much like Charlie, easily tricked and distracted. Had you really not noticed those goons were his? Or that the address wasn’t real? Were you stupid or naive? His head fell to the side unnaturally as he watched you talk. He wasn’t listening, though. He took in your features, slight but average. His hand came out absentmindedly and felt at one of your long and limp ears. He didn’t see you blush or caught how you stiffened. 

Naive. Terribly naive.

Perfectly usable. 

He dropped your ear and turned to leave. “I won’t rescue you twice in one day. Best to follow me home if you value your life.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You hadn’t told anyone about the deal, a secret for yourself to keep. Partly because you were embarrassed you needed the help, and partly because you had been warned extensively to not make a deal with the deer demon. Everyone had such a peculiar idea of Alastor, it seemed to you. Even after making a deal, he was still…Alastor. Always offering a joke, or playing something jaunty in the shared spaces. You could vent and whine and Alastor would hum as he read. Always offering a gentle pat to the head when you were sad or did something he liked. 

So when Alastor suddenly left the group in a sweat, hands shaking and body rocking slightly side to side, you were quick to follow behind him. He bumped off the walls a couple of times before making it to his room and falling forward past the threshold. 

You waited for the door to close before running down the hall and knocking. 

“Are you alright?” You pressed your cheek against the wood and listened for any reply. 

Alastor was still on the floor when you knocked, which worked out well. He leaned against the door, ears flat with his condition. He took a deep breath, voice dropping an octave and carrying easily to you, “Just— an out of season rut. Unexpected and unwelcome. Without any does nearby it’s quite odd.”

“Oh, are deer not like rabbits? Rabbit does are always in estrus! Mating actually triggers their ovulation. Neat, huh?” Silence, Alastor’s ears turned forward focusing on every other word.

Does, always, oestrus

Mating, triggers, ovulation 

“I had pet rabbits when I was little. Isn’t that funny though? That they’re also called does.” You worried he thought you were weirdly interested in rabbit sex. “We had them as pets. So….,” a silence you misinterpreted as awkward.

Alastor tapped a long claw on the door before dragging it down the wood. A line was etched behind, “Is that so?”

You knelt down to get comfortable, “How long will it last?”

“Ah, hard to say. I've only suffered through a few. Alone, perhaps a week.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“With an appropriate partner, a deer demon would rut for two days. One for mating with his doe, one for guarding his doe from rivals who could still interfere with conception.”

His doe. You both found your throat running dry at the words. 

You nodded, “Oh wow, I guess that’s why you always see bucks locked together in fights.”

“Precisely.”

“But...can sinners actually conceive?” You gulped, the idea was a little naughty to you. The entire conversation was actually making you uncomfortable. The kind of discomfort that made your breath pick up. The kind of discomfort that shifted to hunger with just a few words or a well placed look.

“No, but that doesn’t matter. Once fully in the hold of a rut or heat, demons aren’t motivated by logic.”

You nodded again, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Oh okay…” the idea of Alastor rutting into his own hand desperate to fill a womb made your knees come together. “Must be hard for you. As an asexual.”

A hum, confusion breaking his creeping fog for a second, “A sexual what?”

“Nevermind.” You shook your head, shaking off the topic with the motion.

Alastor could smell your arousal wafting under the door. A feverish chill ran through him, drawing the fog back into the recesses of his mind.

“Well… I’ll let you rest. I know you can’t call me, so I’ll stop by to see if you need anything.”

His mouth opened to correct you— he could call you in a sense, and he didn’t need help as he had minions he could summon with a snap. 

“That sounds lovely, what a helpful thing you are.” The words came out strained, his jaw tensing. How much longer could he hold out? The thinnest lie held in place that he’d suffer alone through the week. Already compromised by his errant shadow, flat against the carpet beneath your thighs. 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Within hours Alastor was lying on the floor with his limbs splayed out. The sweating was the worst, not the heat. He could feel ticklish drops dripping down his stomach. His hair was sticking to his face, adding to the mounting overstimulation. Wet, hot, clothes clinging to his body like a second skin. A clawed hand pulled off his bow tie. His fingers shook too much to handle the tiny buttons of his shirt so he gave up and ripped it open. 

It fell into a pile with the bow tie and soon his pants and socks joined. Sitting up on his elbows he looked down at his underwear, he wasn’t hard yet but he knew the smallest touch could trigger what could be days of painfully swollen erections.

He fell back to the floor with a huff, hands raking through his hair and gripping his ears a little rougher than he’d meant to. A gasp, red tipped talons feeling down his ears and slipping around his already growing antlers.

Alastor’s eyes rolled back, strong hands squeezing his prongs, tugging them forward as he imagined anyone riding him. Using his appendages as a handle while he bucked up into them. His hips were already moving, lower back rising off the carpet as he rolled his body up into the imaginary mate he despised his desperation for. His mind flicked through faces. Husk’s pained but satisfied expression, Vox’s tears as he whined, Carmilla’s lusty eyes paired with surrendered sighs. He lingered briefly on Angel’s smirk as his hands roamed down his chest and his thighs in tandem. 

But through the darkness of his imagination he saw two watery and timid orbs, tears welling as eyebrows rose in confusion. Pleasure making the features soften. Soft. Soft velvet ears he could tug on in turn, a little bushy tail he could grip. 

A doe. 

The only doe he knew of in the hotel. 

The radio on the writing desk flipped through channels, piecing together the sounds to form the words he was trying to forget, a magazine ransom note cut from sound bites.

....out the windows

 ....always and forever, 

....in yesterday. 

....rusty cage 

May you never....

Hating how I....

....pull the trigger

....say you love me?

....congratulations 

The relevant sounds spiked in volume, mocking him. 

He walked to the radio and hurled it across the room. Aggression. Already he was losing himself to hellish biology. 

A minor part of him didn’t want to use you. You always looked at him with such adoration, which he’d come to look forward to when others weren’t giving him adequate attention. You also seemed to genuinely see him as a friend, as much as he didn’t directly feed that idea.

But using people was how the world worked. Everyone was using someone. You had said how much you wanted to help… Alastor leaned on the desk with both hands and watched the sweat fall onto the wood and leather writing surface.

How was his body leaking from every pore but his mouth was so dry?

His shadow reached for the thrown radio, the light flickering on. That dark doppelgänger using a song to offer another piece of torment for him, ‘you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine.’

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You had been speaking to Husk about what you could do to help prepare the bar for the weekend when a green light began to form around your neck. 

“Did you— Did you make a deal with him?!” Husk dropped the dish rag, hands shooting to your shoulders, “Hold on! I’ll— fucking hell. Fuck!”

“Wait what’s wro-,” you were standing inside an unfamiliar room, just at the door, before you could figure out why Husk was panicking. Looking up, you locked eyes with Alastor. The room was dark, curtains drawn shut and ceiling lights off. A slight glow from a roaring blue fire to your left. His eyes were those familiar glowing red orbs in the darkness of his large canopy bed. “Oh, Alastor.” You finally noticed the third light source. A neon green large linked chain was wrapped around his fist. Following the squared interlocking pieces down the length of the bed, across the carpet and up as you looked down to find it ending on you.

Your hands touched your neck, feeling the cold metal of your collar. 

Alastor took a deep breath in, a shaky exhale following.

Oh. You’d heard from Angel how his deal with his boss often materialized as a series of smoke rings linked and attached to him. 

Before you could question it any further you were sliding across the floor, hands and feet struggling to find purchase as he reeled you toward the bed. Alastor lifted you by the glowing chain around your neck, evidence of the deal you so easily accepted.

“Can a deer breed a rabbit?” He mused, breath ragged as he struggled to remain in control of his impulses, “Doubtful. But I’ll give it my sincerest efforts, regardless.”

“Alastor-! You don’t want to do this, it’s just your rut.” You pulled back, legs kicking and piling up the blankets. It was fruitless. 

He laughed, incorporeal radio studio audience joining along. You couldn’t stop from glancing at the straining fabric of his black boxers. Setting a small hand on his chest to better attempt to push away you gasped, “You’re burning up!” The fear of the moment left you entirely, replaced with deep concern. 

He gripped your wrist with his free hand, not letting go of the chain in his right, “The fever is unbearable. My mind is slipping away.”

“Is this normal?!” Your hands came to his cheeks, his forehead, his neck. You remembered how your grandmother always checked your temperature, and pressed your lips to his sweat slicked brow. “You poor thing…”

When you pulled back you were met with the bright and blown out pupils of Alastor’s gaze. He was staring at your mouth, the green of his magical connection to you reflecting off his glossy eyes.

“Poor me.” He’d been sitting with loosely crossed legs but got on his knees. His face rose until he was looking down at you, hand now holding your chin, “You promised to help me.”

Your eyes were looking everywhere but his face. 

His hand on you tightened, cheeks squished together as he pulled your head up, “Are you a liar?” Of course not. His hand made your head shake left to right.

The trembling of your hands was obvious to you both. A cruel laugh, “Do I scare you, little bunny rabbit?”

In life you weren’t popular. No one hated you, but, well, you never had much luck attracting the men all the women seemed to want. No one of power or consequence ever paid you any mind.

Alastor was scary. But were you scared? Someone strong wanted you. Someone people feared was saying you were good enough for them.

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt your tail wiggling side to side. Your body always betrayed you. Your own death had been the doing of your body’s inability to listen to you. 

He couldn’t see the tail but the way your face screwed up in shame tipped him off. Letting go of your face, super heated finger pads slipped down your back. He slotted your tail between two fingers. There was no reason for it to be such an intimate action, but your entire body trembled.

Another deep sigh from Alastor, closing his fingers around the base and pulling gently. A test. Your head dropped to hide your reaction.

“Ah ah, eyes on me.”

He hummed happily as you did as you were told.

But the moment was cut short, you jumping when a rough knock came to the door.

“Alastor!” Vaggie was turning the knob despite knowing it was locked, “Is she in there? Open the fucking door.” A kick, a threat, “Now.”

“I’ll need your answer.” He leaned back onto the pillows piled behind him. Making a point, he lifted your chain and dropped it. It dissolved into nothingness before it could hit the bed.

“I’m here!” You said barely loud enough to be heard through the wooden door. Your eyes were drawn to Alastor’s lap as he pushed down his underwear to free his deep red cock.

His hand tenderly touched his base, hissing with the contact.

“For fuck’s sake Alastor!” Vaggie yelled, “You have three seconds to open this fucking door before I rip it off the hinges.”

Alastor’s head fell back with a moan, stifled as he bit down on his lip. 

“One!”

As his fingers slid up his length and touched his leaking slit his entire body violently shook.

“Two!”

He opened his eyes just barely. You hadn’t noticed the antlers on his head were quite a few times larger than normal. 

“I’m okay!” You shouted, the loudest noise you’d made since your death, but not the loudest you’d make by the end of the day.

Silence.

Mumbling.

 Vaggie spoke up again, “Are you sure? Come out and talk to us first.”

His hand began stroking himself, precum spilling down. Something soft and fuzzy was settling over the front of your brain.

You scooted backwards off the bed, eyes staying on his lap. The light color of his inner thighs. The little bit of red and black tail you could see squished down under his ass.

“Hello!” You opened the door just enough to shove your head through. “Hi there gang.”

Husk’s arms were crossed and his foot tapping, “Are you really okay? No matter the deal he can’t fucking make you stay in there with him.”

While you weren’t sure that was actually true, it wasn’t an issue, “I wanna stay! He needs someone to watch his fever and-,”

A brief rush of cool air up your shirt before a hot mouth was pressing into the small of your back.

Vaggie’s eyes narrows, “and?”

“And! And. Yes.” Your eyes shut, “and take care of cleaning up after him.”

They shared a glance, “He can just make his little creatures do it.”

A surprisingly long tongue ran up your spine.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god! No! I couldn’t let my friend,” you sucked your bottom lip in as his hands wrapped around your waist and undid the button of your pants, “rely on strangers.”

Husk sighed, “Alright, just… like, call us or something? If you need anything.”

You began to nod but the door was shut and locked by Alastor before you could reply.

₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊

Your face hit the wall as you lost balance when he pulled down your pants and panties with one yank and buried his face into your crotch. His tongue licked at the wetness pooled at your entrance.

Any moans would probably still have been heard by the other two so you tried to keep quiet. Alastor didn’t seem to care though, growling into your skin.

The fever seemed it would spread skin to skin, but when he pulled away you found your body quickly cooling. Taking a moment to breath before turning back, you wondered if you’d made a great decision or a terrible one. When you turned, Alastor was settling back into his previous spot. “I could rip the rest off of you or you could undress yourself.” He wasn’t looking at you as he said it. You made quick work of removing your shirt and returning to the bed as you had before.

"Turn around."

You turned to face the door.

"On your hands and knees."

You paused briefly, but did so.

As you bent over, little tail high and trembling, Alastor’s clawed thumbs spread open your bottom lips. Perhaps it was embarrassment or just the nerves but you were twitching open and close.

You heard a low “Fuck” before the feeling of heat dripping onto you made you jerk forward. One of his hands came to your shoulder to hold you in place, the other kept your hole open as his seed continued to dribble down onto it.

He hadn’t been trying to cum, but his body was already responding to the opportunity before it; a breedable and submissive doe.  His cock trigger-happy at the sight of your pussy, inside pink and clenching.

A tiny yelp as he fell over you, joining you in an all fours position but larger body caging yours between his limbs. He laughed again when the back of your head hit him square in the chest. 

“You are uselessly small.” His body rumbled over you. “Clever girl to make a deal for protection.” 

A burning stiffness slid down your folds. You could feel from even how little contact he made he was too big. Was it a bad time to tell him you’d only had the one partner on earth? A rather boring but sufficient sex life. If Alastor was hoping for a sex kitten he’d be deeply disappointed in you.

He hummed imagining dropping his weight and feeling you fruitlessly squirm under him. 

“Mating triggers ovulation, I recall you said. I just need to fuck you into it, right sweetheart? Maybe if I do a good enough job,” his hands gripped the flesh of your ass, “your body will actually respond. Your belly will swell with the evidence of my virility.” Both hands slipped down your hips and came to nestle above your womb, tenderly caressing the protective layer of fat there, “could your little form handle it?” Little form? Not quite. But to him everyone was little. Claws leaving faint red marks as he dragged them up your ribs, around your sides and pressed your back down to get your chest into the bed and ass in the air.

A squeak, your legs flailing with what little motion they had as you turned your head, “Well that’s for actual rabbits not--.”

His hand came over your mouth, “Shhh, there's safety in the quiet. Don’t you know? We’re most vulnerable when we mate.” On the utterance of the word you’d been avoiding to even think about Alastor’s still hard cock squeezed its way into you. Your body was willing, but your pussy wasn’t ready to accommodate him. Not that your living partner had been small, but he wasn’t a seven foot tall rutting deer demon. And with height came a girth and length you’d not anticipated. You had seen it, yes, but that didn’t translate to much once Alastor was entering you.

His hips were snapping back as soon as he sank in. It frustrated him endlessly that he wasn’t trying to fuck you with such a lack of control. He couldn’t have been sure he’d have done it any differently had the circumstances been changed, but he liked to think he’d  retained some skills over the long years alone.

The way he whined made him sound like a weak man, which he was in that moment. You wanted to call out his name, do the things you were used to doing during sex, but his hand was still over your mouth.

As if he heard your thoughts, his fingers spread open over your lips. Pinky under your chin to keep his hold on you. 

“Alastor,” the tenor of your voice surprised you.

“Stick out your tongue.” He sounded far away, despite being right behind you. When you did as he instructed his hand shifted. Two long fingers went into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. Immediately his fingers and your chin was dripping with drool. He whined again, louder, the noise growing into a growl as his speed began to pick up. 

You could feel the thin flesh at the bottom of your entrance stinging as it was failing to stretch enough for him. It would have bothered you more but the way his burningly hot cock's head was pressing into your cervix was making your eyes lose focus. 

Without ceremony, you felt a rush of heat deep in you. Your shins lifted from the bed as you squirmed, weak attempts to escape the deep press.

His hand left your mouth and you felt it working on the base of his cock that was not yet in you. He mumbled something, it sounded like an apology, before you felt him pop the rest of himself in. You choked on your scream, not knowing what he had put in you. 

It throbbed, new and stronger spurts of his seed felt against an indescribable place. 

A brave hand reached between your thighs and felt at the space between your bodies—- well, would have felt at that space. But there was none. You were flush against his lap. Your fingers slid down to feel taut balls pulled up into his body. 

He shivered as you traced between them, checking neither were …  inside you. 

“I should have warned you, but my ability to speak wasn’t—,” he waved his hand around, “available.” You tried to pull away but found you both were locked together. “A knot. Not an accurate representation of a deer… and technically useless.”

That word meant nothing to you. “Is it normal?”

His thumb pressed at the virgin tight ring of muscle just above your pussy, you instinctively jerked away but just made yourself gasp as that large knot in you threatened to further tear you if you kept it up. “I don’t normally do it so early in a mated rut.”

You surrendered, trying to relax your upper body into the bed. “How do we get it out?”

A mocking chuckle, “It’ll deflate, so to speak, in a couple minutes. It’s just keeping my little doe in place while I finish filling her up.” He patted your ass. 

It was mortifying to be suck in that position.

“Have you ever used this hole?” He rubbed some of your wetness up to your asshole. 

 Your tail lifted, “My boyfriend didn’t like anal.”

Alastor massaged around the puckered ring, “I didn’t ask if he used his.” Your head turned to look at him, shaking it ‘no’. You noticed his face looked less strained now, and that his finger didn’t feel like a fire was just under his skin. “Ah, well. I won’t need it today anyway.”

He didn’t see the bright blush that came over your face. He spoke so easily about the topic, a topic you’d never heard him speak on before. One you’d been told he had no interest in.

An error you made, assuming a lack of interest meant a lack of knowledge or experience. 

When he finally could pull himself out of you, you felt a rush of warmth down your inner thighs. Looking under you, past your chest and between your legs, you saw the thick white semen escaping from your stretched entrance. 

You’d never seen such an opaque release before. You wondered if it was a hint at his…potency. You wondered more what was happening in your body at that moment. 

“Will it come out on its own or do I need to clean it?” Finally sitting up, your fingers felt the mess still dripping out of you. 

Alastor leaned back onto his legs, ears turning in your direction as you asked, “Is this your first time? Your little boyfriend never finished in you?”

Crossing your arms, you turned to him, “Don’t be patronizing to him. And no, okay?”

He felt the heat rising from his gut again, cock twitching at every bit of the scene before him. Insolent body language, an attempt to scold him, and an admission. You watched him sit back up, a sudden reminder how much taller he was as darkened eyes looked down on you. The blue of the fire cast half of his face in shadows. “What’s this? My obedient doe wants to defend another man in my bed?” 

Your hands nervously came to the ends of your ears, “I didn’t mean it like that.” A finger twirled, telling you to turn around. You hesitated. Did he want you to leave? He didn’t want to look at you? You hadn’t—, “I’m sorry.” 

With a blink, his eyes were black.  His fingers longer as parts of him seems to stretch between the joints. He twirled them again as his smile grew wicked.

Desperate to show him you hadn’t wanted to upset him, that you wanted to stay, you turned around. The fear of not knowing what he would do next was sending waves of electricity to your lap. You realized you hadn’t touched yourself yet, not that this was the time to start. 

One by one, those freakishly long fingers curled around the small of your waist and lifted you off the bed. The tops of your feet were sliding across the dark maroon blankets beneath you both.

Your heart was pounding in your ears as he pulled you against him. He positioned you above his renewed erection, your legs opening a little in instinct. 

Grateful now to be turned around, you let your face run the full range of feelings as they washed over you. Fear, arousal, anticipation.

“What a wasteful man.” He brought you down with a painfully slow speed, head just now meeting your sticky wet hole. “He never flooded your soft cunt?” He pressed in a little easier this time, but as you sank to take him all in you felt a sting where you’d slightly torn earlier. “When he dies, I’ll be sure to find him.” Cruel. “And make him watch me breed you.” You clenched, yet another betrayal by your body. 

You were reduced to gasps as he stayed stock still and moved you on and off his cock. “Am I bigger than he is?” You could feel his breath against your back as you were lifted and brought back down again slowly. 

You nodded. A terrible liar, you didn’t even try to fib.

He stopped with his head barely in you.

A squirm.

“I’m sure I just didn’t hear you. Try again.”

“Yes.” You were full again as he got his answer. A creaking sound you didn’t recognize startled you.

“Do I fuck you better than him?”

Ah you understood. Your hands held at his fingers digging into your body. “Yes.” Another creaking sound as he quickened your rise and fall.

Alastor’s antlers were wide and multi-pronged as your affirmations jostled around behind his eyes. Your ‘yes’ somehow made you tighter, wetter, hotter around him. His hips started moving again to meet yours. Perhaps he his dick grown a little during his shift to a more demonic form, or maybe you enjoyed the line of questions. All he knew was you were squeezing him like your body didn’t want him to ever pull out again.

Blood dripped from his lips as he cut his own skin, through gritted teeth a final question, “Do you want my fawns?”

Your legs pressed together, you knew there was only one answer and yet you asked yourself. Did you want that? To carry his children? A moan cut through your thinking, “Yes!”

The fire roared, a response to his own reaction.

Alastor felt his mind slip under again, noticing the wild way his shadow was dancing around the walls before his senses all dulled except touch.

The bed drifted away from under his knees and the walls melted like spent candles. Just sounds echoing off space as your moans deepened. As if learning, you began to whisper ‘yes’ to yourself as you felt a building pressure in your stomach. 

Every thrust into you further separated your brain from your body. Your eyes lost focus as you watched the door bounce. No, wait, you were bouncing, right? Bouncing up and down the stiff rail of Alastor’s arousal. Your head fell forward, gasping as you felt him harden further while buried deep in you. He was going to cum again, you could feel it, you would feel it. The thought made your body shake as a pressure grew steadily in you. 

Not a new sensation, but a different one. 

“Louder,” another thinly veiled demand from Alastor that seemed to come from somewhere else entirely. Your eyes noticed a small light on the floor near the wall. A radio, buzzing with the same crackle as his voice.

“Yes,” you ground out, his hands were slippery with sweat as his nails dug in to ensure he didn’t lose his grip on you. “Yes, yes, yes.” He brought you down entirely and only let you off a little, an unspoken fear he would release too close to your entrance and he’d lose precious seed he needed your body to receive. “Yes! Alastor!” You weren’t sure who was talking now, as it surely couldn’t be you. You’d never —

“You’re better than him. You’re bigger and stronger and and he never —- he could never…”

He was suddenly regretting the position, unable to watch you fall apart as he so lovingly spread you open. 

With a shriek, your back crashed into his chest as Alastor fell backward into his pillows. He didn’t miss a beat. He continued fucking up into you but let one hand reach your clit. When you whined, he breathed into your hair, “I need you to orgasm.” Other hand pressing down on your womb, “Many cultures believed a woman couldn’t get pregnant without finding her release first. Surely it’ll take. Cum for me my doe.”

You shook your head, “Alastor that isn’t possible.” Not that you were arguing against the way his finger was rubbing up and down on your swollen clit, you just felt the need to remind him of the obvious. Your eyes wandered up and back to see the hauntingly wide antlers now. His transformed face barely visible in the shadows.

“I thought you were a good girl.” His mouth kissed at the base of your ears, hand over your womb pressing in and exaggerating the feeling of his cock bulging from under your skin. “Darling,” he groaned, “Are you ready for my knot?”

You moaned at the words. No, of course not. 

“Yes,” you got quiet, embarrassed again. Your hand snaked up and behind to hold his shoulder for stability. 

“Relax,” he hissed, feeling your body tensing in anticipation.

You tried your best, but between his strumming finger and the sting still at your entrance you struggled to let things go limp.

This time you felt it growing beneath you. Alastor was ready as well, pushing it in before it was swollen so large he’d have to force it or just suffer with it outside.

Lubricated with the multiple loads already fucked into and then out of you, the knot pushed past your entrance with ease. But then you felt it expanding in you. Eyes crossing as they rolled back with the foreign sensation. It didn’t hurt, but a little alarm was going off in the back of your brain. How could something natural feel so unnatural? And how—

Your body locked up, muscles from thighs to neck tight. Alastor’s finger hadn’t stopped, and as the second knotted release flooded you with his feverish need, as his knot trapped every drop and forced it up past your cervix you tripped into your first orgasm. Different from your own hand and toys, the build up hadn’t been a slow ratcheting climb. No, you were rolling through waves of nearly pained pleasure. The spasming forced your body to feel him even more, pulling him deeper, triggering another wave to crash into you.

Alastor wanted to praise you, a rush of hormones and ego expanding his chest but the sensations had him so overwhelmed he was manually breathing. His hand didn’t want to stop, because then the way your pussy was positively sucking him in would also end. But your little cries and moans got increasingly choked and strained.

The calm briefly offered by knotting a mate during his rut came to your rescue, Alastor dragging a still barely moving finger up your body and going slack into the pillows.

Deep breaths, both of you fighting to slow them down. Alastor was experiencing another moment of clarity, only slightly upset he had doled out so much tenderness.

But for you, there was no deep fog of a heat to numb the sensations and let the more bothersome bits of consciousness turn off. Your mind was just as clear as normal. A little lusty, but nowhere near Alastor’s altered state. As you laid against his chest, waiting for him to be able to pull out, you could feel the pains and aches setting in.

Alastor summoned a minion, food set down on his desk under a silver cloche. Your eyes caught the black and white creature before it was whisked away.

Sitting up, you flinched but fought against the pain, “Alastor. What was that?”

His hands pulled you back down by the shoulders, skin on skin, “My minion. One of many.” 

 Exhausted, you could only sigh, “So, the errand.”

His hands went up defensively, “Oh come now, did you really think I was the good guy?” You didn’t reply. The silence began to bother him. Odd, given he usually didn’t give a fuck.

But he’d asked a lot of you, and you agreed willingly. You did as you were told. A little twinge of concern he had actually upset you wiggled between his ribs.

His hands slipped down your waist and settled over your stomach, “…Are you hungry? If you stay like this, I can help you eat.” You took a deep breath in, but didn’t even move to look at him. He squirmed ever so slightly, “I can only assume you’re… quite sore. Perhaps a bath? But I can’t guarantee we’ll make it out much cleaner than we are now.” His smile was smaller, just lips; no teeth. As his antlers withdrew and his limbs all returned to their proper places he could turn his head enough to look at your face.

Alastor felt relief wash over him to see you deeply asleep in his arms. It wasn’t a bad idea, to sleep before the next spell hit him and he was too far gone to think about baths or meals.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Alastor awoke in the dark. He found his hands and ankles tied behind his back, his body naked and sweating. He was on fire, pieces of himself lifting in the hot breeze and blowing away. He could feel his body fragmenting. You were just a little ways away and he tried desperately to reach out to you but as his eyes adjusted you were suddenly too far. If he could just get you to take a single piece of him, a shard of himself, he would live still. Even when the rest of him was dead and gone, he’d be alive in your hands. A raging stress, the fire now reaching his bones. It wasn’t too late. He still had time. Just a sliver of his existence was all he needed to get to you.

When you woke up, your body was at the foot of the bed. Looking over you saw Alastor lazily stroking his painfully hard erection. His gaze downcast, vision cloudy with unmet needs.

“Alastor?” With shaky arms you lifted yourself. You were hot. Was it the fire? No, before it had no heat. A little damp outline into the comforter formed where your body had been. 

“You’re awake.” He reached over and grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards him and rolling you onto your back. Hand still around your ankle, he pulled your leg against his chest.

“Alastor.”

He sunk into you without hesitation, hips rolling into you roughly. Your body was rocking against the bed, wood creaking against wood with the steady force of his thrusts.

It felt good. Better than before, your walls felt soft and puffy around him. Alastor’s head was low, groaning every time he bottomed out. You could see just enough past him to watch the bed canopy swaying above you both before he folded you in half and leaned fully over you.

His eyes were unfocused like his mind, staring into the bed. A large palm at either side of your head, his back curved as he angled his hips to reach deeper yet.

“I’m so hot.” You were struggling to get the words out. It felt so good, the deeper in you he reached the more you seemed to be melting away.

Your hips were lifted off the mattress, held up entirely by his cock as he continued to rut into you. He could feel the fever in you rising. 

Bent and tangled together, his head was nearly above yours. He was sweating, hair stuck down and ears folded back. A bead fell from his cheek and hit your forehead. He was working so hard. Such a strong man. A strong buck. 

Something in you snapped. Something twisted and burned in your belly. You brought the other leg up to let yourself be folded in half completely, and his eyes wandered to your face. Your frontal cortex was just static as the lights were shutting off in most parts of your more human faculties. 

Everything got quiet in you, a deep seated feeling of security creeping up your legs and sinking into your bones. With Alastor in you, nothing bad could happen to you. If you were carrying his offspring you’d be guaranteed a new level of protection. You needed it. You wouldn’t survive if you weren’t fucked and bred by the overlord. 

How could your body be wrong when the feeling was so natural? So intensely confident?

“Alastor!” Your nails dug into biceps, hands clamoring up his arms to cling onto him, “breed me, please.” 

He was caught alight, mind on ablaze with his raging fever. Your plea was a magnifying glass concentrating the sun into him and sparking a wildlife. Alastor was defenseless against the way your words affected him. 

He could feel it, he could smell it, your heat triggered finally. His lips caught yours as his hands slipped up the blanket with how he had to contort to reach your mouth. You moaned into him, teeth on teeth as neither of you had any ability to finesse things.

“On your knees,” he instructed. You scrambled to turn around as he briefly left your body. A desperate whine in the seconds that stretched on, the emptiness unbearable. It hurt to have him anywhere but balls deep in you.

His hands slipped around your tail that still tried to swish side to side. When he tugged you gasped, the closest sensation you had was having your hair pulled. Chills ran up your spine. You nearly fell forward, but a strong hand wrapped around your neck and pulled your head back. He lined up, adjusting his legs wider to get down to your level.

“Are you feeling it?” He nipped at your shoulder, “Your heat?”

You pushed your ass back and pressed his tip into you. The sound that tore through your chest was answer enough for him as you tried your best to move along his length all on your own.

“You’re okay,” he squeezed lightly around your neck, pussy twitching around him as lightning snapped through you. “I’ll take care of you.”

Words that made your head spin. His body on yours felt like security. Everywhere his skin touched yours was a gulp of cold water in a drought.

A cliche, as he began to move again and his cock hit your g-spot every couple thrusts, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. His fever was matched to yours, no heat exchanged as warm and wet flesh moved around warm and wet flesh. Was that your hand or his on your stomach? Both were searing, both soft and slick. One of your hands was reaching down to hold his arm for support.

Eyes slipping shut, you imagined this was what being high felt like. You were out of your body entirely, feeling his dick slipping in and out of you from a different plane of existence. There was a sense your mouth was moving but no awareness of what you were saying. Truly just babbling as Alastor’s speed hitched. A clawed hand on your hip cut into you as he pressed deeper with every thrust.

He guided you down onto your stomach, hand now resting on your right shoulder to keep you in place. You were entirely flat, his knees parting your legs so he could get flush against your core. 

His knot was in place as he began to swell. You felt it again, him flooding your womb as he released directly into your twitching cervix. A euphoria filled you so totally you were sure you could feel the cells of your body humming.

Like a cool breeze had blown down, your fevers broke nearly immediately.

“Oh,” you squeaked, Alastor’s hand releasing you as he lied on top of you. The weight of him was oddly arousing as it gave a clear comparison of your smaller size. “I think you’re right. Estrus.”

He nodded, rolling you both onto your sides, “Would you like the good news or bad news first?”

Resting your head on his extended arm, you tried getting comfortable despite the sticky feeling of your skin and the burning in your thighs, “bad news.”

“You won’t be walking straight for days.” He said it with a heavy tone of pride.

“Oh geez…,” you could feel his knot still throbbing between your hips, “The good news?”

“Your heat is going to make me even more desperate to fill you,” his free hand ran down your sides and slipped between your legs to feel where you two were connected. 

You turned your head the best you could, “That’s not good news, Alastor!”

He laughed, “I lied. Oh well!”

While the good news had been a lie, the way your body’s shift into meeting Alastor’s instincts upped his feral responses was not.  You nibbled on fruit and bread and cured meats in the small windows the clouds around your humanity parted.

But when they’d roll back in, a tempest of feral wants crashing into you both, you’d find yourself clinging to the deer demon.

You could have had an apple in one hand and be mid bite when his musk would reach you and your grip would loosen. With just a moan and a lifting of your hips Alastor would be dragging you closer, crawling over your body, mounting you wherever you two happened to be.

It wasn’t that you’d become confident by the end of the day, but that you’d lost all semblance of shame and embarrassment.

When Alastor pulled you onto his lap and placed your hands on his peach fuzz covered antlers, you didn’t need verbal instructions. It took all of your arm span to reach them, so you held tightly as he thrust up into you. None of his noises had been as intoxicating as the ones he made when you were leaning over him and squeezing his prongs with every jostle of your womb. Perhaps he’d lost his shame too, loud and long moans the other residents had to have heard spilling from his open mouth. 

The wet slap of your ass coming back down onto his thighs as he bounced you was barely registered. Head hung low to meet his black engulfed eyes, you didn’t notice his smile was gone for the first time since you’d met him. Pinhole red pupils were locked on your face and imperceptibly roamed around your lust filled expression. 

One hand reached up and rubbed the soft skin of your downturn rabbit’s ears between his thumb and index finger. Soft. Velvet. 

A sensation that was wholly pleasant, not sexual in any nature but feeding the comfort provided by Alastor’s cock buried to the hilt. He wanted to enjoy the smile it gave you but he could feel his orgasm climbing exponentially.

There it was again, the darkness of your combined heat and rut slinking in. Body to body, your own sounds harmonizing with his and losing distinction. “Alastor–,” eyes drifting shut, “Please. I feel empty.” His previous loads dripping down your thighs, then down his own, and soaking into the carpet. “Fill me up. Please, can you breed me?”

His hand pulled down on your ear, “That was never in question.”

You let go of his extended prongs, arching your back to take a kiss. More. His tongue in your mouth, another hole full of Alastor. His hands both reunited on your ass and used the flesh there like handles. He fucked up into you, withholding the growing at his base, until he felt you cumming around him again. As your body sucked him in with rolling spasms, he pressed you down on his upthrust. A pained moan as it was pushed in a little late. 

Lightning behind your eyelids, your mouths hanging open and pressed together. 

Both of you a pile on the floor, a cold blue flame and soft music playing from the still broken radio. Uncharacteristically, Alastor’s arms wrapped around your smaller form and clung to you. The sensations were popping up one by one. Sticky skin, sweat rolling down your face, hair sticking to your neck and forehead. You’d have to peel each other apart. Which you did, eventually. When Alastor could pull out, he followed through on the bath he’d been thinking about. 

You protested, reminding him you’d be soaking the floor with displaced bath water as soon as the next urge to mate came around. But he laughed, smile back in place as if it had never left, “Sweetheart if I do my job right you won’t even realize you’re not in bed until you’re knotted and knocked up.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He hadn’t been lying about the protective second day. But what he hadn’t anticipated was just how long that aggressive desire to keep others at a distance from you would last. While your deal had been in place for a little while before his rut, it wasn’t until after your time together in his room that it seemed to ever be used. 

But you didn’t need to call out for him, like he had said. No, anytime someone even looked at you with a nasty thought, you were graced with his presence. Most people figured it out quickly enough, but occasionally new and brave idiots would approach you with trouble. 

So when a tall and imposing creature cornered you in a shop, hand holding something sharp and shiny and asked, “Scared, little hare?", you could only smile as your face was lit up by a green glow and offer a little advice, “No, but you should be.”

deleted scene ˗ˏˋ Masterlist ˎˊ˗

˖  ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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[classypauli]

𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑾𝑬𝑫 𝑴𝒀 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑫 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!Reader

Summary: You catch the eyes of the last person you would expect

Word count: 5.8k

a/n: Working on Doctor´s treatment part 2, if you have any ideas, requests, questions message me!

Nevermore academy, education soil for creatures of kinds you would never even dream of. But preferred by many, you could hear about them as Outcasts. No human with a healthy mind would ever think about walking by their land or the woods. Vampires, werewolves, sirens, gorgons,... you name it. They guarantee you don´t want to mess with them.

Clearly, that´s from a human´s perspective.

As for Outcasts themselves, they don´t feel that way about them. Of course, the dirty looks that are shot their way everytime they step into the Jericho make them a little cheerless, but that wasn´t their image. That is what people created in their heads based on actions and incidents where they weren´t even present.

Wednesday was skeptical about this school, her parents used to go there for a couple of years but she isn´t like them. Or at least that is what she felt and she was sure of it. Breaking rules and always be right is like her second name and looking just at the gate of the Nevermore she knew, this school wouldn´t be any different than others. It won´t hold her inside for too long. And her roommate already persuaded her about her plants as soon as she stepped into the dorm.

The werewolf girl showed her around and explained the system of the school. The girl must admit, it was catching her attention, being around outcasts was indeed more enjoyable than around people, even though sometimes outcasts were more predictable than humans. But still, this reason wasn´t big enough to make her stay.

She wanted to escape and the girl had it planned to the last dot. Packing her things, going to the festival, and meeting up with Tyler. He would then drive her far far away. And it would have gone like this if Rowan didn´t touch her. The vision made her follow him, Wednesday went to warn him about the danger that waits on him in the trees. It turned out that he was the danger waiting for her.

And the thing she witnessed... Wednesday was sure what she saw was real, that it wasn´t just a figment of the imagination. He said that she would destroy the school and everyone in it. But the strange part was that everyone kept declining that as if she didn´t see him all bloody yelling in agony. And that made her stay.

Wednesday was now sitting in Botanical Science class. Unfortunately, she needed to sit next to Xavier who was trying to impress her with his ability. She wasn´t scared of the spiders, otherwise, she was drawn to creatures like this. The spider was slowly coming her way and now everyone was watching the interaction, waiting for the girl´s response.

On the millisecond the annoyed face appeared on Wednesday´s face as she went to slam the fake eight-legged animal but was stopped by a blue flame that was shot straight to the spider. Everyone knew who’s the fire was. You were just sitting there a couple of tables from them looking at the Xavier with an unimpressed look on your face as you held up one finger with the blue fire above. Then the fire suddenly disappeared and you went back to doing your work.

The students around the school knew you, you were unique and a lot of them wished they could do what you can. You hated that, everyone only wanted the power but nobody saw the background of it. Even though they were used to your power, it didn´t stop them from being in awe every time.

The goth girl saw you a couple of times around, she didn´t know under what category of outcasts you belong. Enid only said that you weren´t what most of them were, nothing more. And her roommate wanted but even the biggest gossip girl around the school knew barely minimum about you.

Wednesday shot her eyes at you without moving her head, slowly scanning you. She must say she didn´t expect that. This was the first time she had ever seen something like that. You shot the ball of fire straight at the fake spider and burned it into the ash in seconds, the spider stood zero chance against the fire. It didn´t touch Wednesday but she sure could feel the hotness of the flame.

„Thank you Y/N. Well it looks like Wednesday wasn´t really mesmerized by your skills Xavier.“ Mrs. Thornhill commented and went back to teaching. The boy only put his eyebrows together as he looked at you and then faced the other side of his seatmate in embarrassment. The class laughed under their breaths at the sight of Xavier’s sulking after failing to impress their new classmate.

After the class, Y/N took her books and started to walk away. She isn´t much social person and she doesn´t care about it. The girl likes it better on her own, it feels calmer that way. Y/N only talks when it´s needed, so with her teachers, parents, or her only friend in the school. She doesn´t even have a roommate which is like a win to her.

„Next time your rescue isn´t needed.“

Y/N turned around to the voice and saw a girl who sat with Xavier. She knew of course who she was, she was the talk of the week of course. This was the first time she had seen her from this close, or almost close. It was clear Wednesday doesn´t like crossing the personal barrier between two bodies. But even from this apart Y/N could notice her deep brown eyes which were staring straight into hers and barely seen freckles across her face.

The taller girl only nodded, breaking the eye contact, and walked away from the girl. Wednesday kept looking at your fading figure in the hallway till she could hear tough steps approaching her.

„She caught your eye, huh?“ Enid smirked at her new roommate as she leaned carefully so as not to touch her. „I can´t blame you, she´s really something.“ Enid sighed dreamely at the thought of you and Wednesday now looked at the girl with a slightly disgusted face before turning around to leave.

„Leave these comments to yourself.“ Enid only laughed at her as she started to follow her to their next class.

Wednesday kept thinking about you almost the whole day. More like about your ability. Hate to admit it but it was interesting. Enid said you aren’t wich or some magician that you can just control fire, or more like it´s just coming out of you.

When Y/N is not around they call her a Dragon of Nevermore or just a Dragon, they know better not to call her that when she is near, the girl doesn´t like that. And when she´s somewhere around they don´t talk about her so she wouldn´t hear, for their own safety.

Now was Wednesday´s writing time and she just kept sitting there staring blankly at the empty page. She wanted to continue with her new book but her mind went back to the blue flame every time. She sighed in frustration and went to her bed. Thing saw her thinking hard, she had something in her mind and he was glad that something ripped the thoughts of leaving this school away.

Students were now sitting outside, enjoying food and chatting with each other. Wednesday saw her roommate eating and talking loudly with her vampire friend and a couple of others. She wasn´t a fan of a lot of people but she also couldn´t care less if the attention wasn´t placed on her. She was scanning the pentagon looking for a place to sit. Preferably alone. The girl felt a soft tap on her black boot, there was a Thing facing her.

„What are you doing? You want to be seen by somebody?“ Wednesday hissed at him, trying not to look suspicious. Thing only pointed his finger somewhere. She looked up from him in the direction and found you sitting by the table on your own, quietly eating while looking down at your plate.

Wednesday sighed and made her way to you. She didn´t know why, her mind started to recalculate her options of where to sit. And understandably you were the safest option, she knew you wouldn’t try to talk to her.

And so it was like that. You barely looked at who sat beside you, Wednesday somehow felt like you could feel that it was her, that´s why you didn´t need to look at the new intruder. Students looked their way, now silently watching the invisible interaction between the two of you, looking for any change of behavior they were used to seeing from both of you. But nothing. You just sat there next to each other eating food, minding your business. The girl felt a soft tap on her boot again, this time only to tease her, Wednesday kicked him away not showing any emotion on her face.

The werewolf girl saw you both sitting next to each other, smiling softly at the image. She liked the idea of both of you together, you would look good. It was clear that you nor she were good at social interaction, and this? This was definitely unexpected. Most of the time when someone wanted to sit with you, you looked at them, not saying anything because it wasn´t even needed. They understand very fast what you meant.

You didn´t shoot Wednesday one look.

„How does your ability work?“ Wednesday asked without looking at your side profile as you chew on your food. You kept your stoic face without any unnecessary muscle work not understanding her question. The girl was slowly getting annoyed by you, it seemed like you ignored her.

Wednesday was getting used to people asking her useless questions or pleasing her attention which she ignored. Sometimes she made savage comments to shut them down. This was the other way around, now she tasted her medicine.

Y/N looked at her scanning her facial expression, why would she want to know about her? Of course, not a single muscle moved but her mind was the opposite, jumping from one thought to another not understanding the girl right now.

The young Addams was getting frustrated at the girl beside her. She wasn´t getting a single thing from her.

„Uhm... I don´t understand.“ Y/N finally said looking around to find something to take her mind off of the conversation and the look she was giving her. She didn´t like talking about that.

„Why is it blue?“ Wednesday of course knew why sometimes flame was a different colour than red. But she wanted to know if you could control it to that part when it changed it’s shade or if it was always like this.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders and went to eat again, that action completely thorn off the new girl. Wednesday saw that this was getting nowhere so she let it be, but she will get her answers.

Unconsciously, you just become her new prey.

A couple of days went by since the joining of the new student, and everyone slowly started to come back to their things, forgetting about it. There were still students that liked to get on her nerves but most of them now didn´t mind her. They were quite afraid of the goth girl and she obviously had not a bad word for it.

„Y/N! Hey!“ the cheerful voice greeted you as you slowly approached the construction. This was one of your favorite places to go to. Not a lot of people went to this place so it was always so calm in there. The boy had a beekeeper´s suit on holding some equipment in his hands.

„Hey Eugene, how are the bees?“ The girl asked looking at the thing her friends currently work on. He was the only person who made her comfortable to talk with.

They knew themselves since the boy came. He was shy, he still is but back then it was much more, always looking at the ground, not looking at anyone, minding his business. At first, it was like a nightmare to him, he didn´t want to tell his moms that he had no friends, wanted to save them from being worried so it was better to keep that information to himself.

Minding on his own of course didn´t stop the bullies. Why would it, be right? He had never understood why they acted like that to him, it kept bugging him for a long and to the point when he was afraid to go out of his dorm room.

It was like this until it was Outreach Day, it was his first time to go here and he didn´t know what to expect. Eugene was set to work at Pilgrim World and he found him again. It was much worse this time because no one was around to interrupt them from what they were going to do. Unexpectedly someone came, at first the person was trying to talk them out of it but as the boys started to treat that person too, they got beat up. It was Y/N that came to save him. It was like a dream, the boy saw the tall girl a couple of times at school, he always thought that she looked savage, not caring about things that weren´t important. And he wanted to be like her but his mind wasn´t strong enough to believe in himself.

From that day the girl would keep him company wherever he wanted and like a sibling, you had each other's backs. Y/N was Eugene´s role model, someone he looked up to, his moms were so happy to hear that he had someone like her.

„They are good but they missed you!“ Y/N smiled softly at the short boy´s words. It was true, recently they weren´t spending much time together, but it was nothing serious, they just had separate things to do.

„I missed them too.“ She whispered and looked at the bee´s hive outside the window.

Wednesday was walking in the forest. She had to think about this dreadful place, her dead classmate and her loud roommate made it impossible. She enjoyed walking alone through the dense tree foam. It created a dark atmosphere. A lot of people were afraid of woods, but on Wednesday there was nothing to be scared of, she would walk there even in the darkness. She came by the lake as her boots were taking steps along the stones around. There was an old, wooden dock jutted into the water and the waves were dancing along the gentle wind.

Suddenly she heard something from the other side of the lake. She turned her head to the noise, her hunting instinct was now on looking into the center of the sounds. The girl could see a person standing there, hands together in a praying-like position with their head down. It looked more like they were praying or meditating. Wednesday could see slow breaths based on the small shoulder movements along with the person´s chest.

She took a small step to the front to have a better look at the scene. Suddenly the person turned their face in front of them, one leg moved back making them lean a little. One arm was moving up above their head and the other one was stretched in front of their body. Both hands were slowly turned into fists. And what happened next made Wednesday stand in awe.

The fire splutters out of one of the hands into the wind. The person took a step and jumped up turning their body high in the air kicking with their leg along with the hot flame. When they came down they turned their back around now jumping backward landing on their hands as they bounced back into the feet before doing a backflip layout. The blue fire was spewing all around, changing directions like it was listening to your body.

It was absolutely known who it was. You were the only one with the ability to control a blue fire. Wednesday couldn´t tear her gaze away from you. In situations like this, it was hard not to show an interest. The young Addams wasn´t someone who pretends.

The waves of water were lazily moving like a rhythmic melody along with your movements. As she was now standing there from the other side of the water, looking at you almost without blinking, it created the feeling of a border. As if the lake was a boundary separating her and you, separating her body from the unknown, from things that she wanted to know about but didn´t know how to move, how to make the step. So desperate to explore the untouched land.

It has now been a couple of days, the case was moving painfully slowly. Wednesday shared some evidence with the sheriff´s son and Enid. The girl didn´t like getting a lot of people into her soup but at the same time, she wanted others thoughts, even if it didn´t matter to her.

Thing has been quite a handful even with his remarks on someone. The young Addams have been sitting with you every lunch break, without a single word or glance. Just sitting there, quietly eating not bothering each other. Enid and Thing were great at getting on her nerves by teasing her about it.

Why they were like that? Wednesday didn´t know, she was only sitting with you at lunch, without any interaction at all.

Since that time in the forest, she didn´t see you use your fire. You barely use it. A lot of students were shocked when you burned that spider-like they weren´t used to seeing that, and now Wednesday knew.

They are currently having a class, she and Enid were sitting together paying attention, or at least one of them.

„Hey.“ Enid whispered leaning her head slowly into her classmate's direction. „Do you know where is Y/N?“

„How am I supposed to know the answer?“ Wednesday answered with a low voice, taking notes on the paper.

„Well, you are pretty close so I thought you would know.“ Enid shot her a quick glance before facing the teacher again as if she was listening this whole time.

Wednesday stopped her writing and turned to her roommate. „We aren´t close one bit. Just because we are sitting together doesn´t mean we are close.“ Her gaze was sharp looking straight at the side profile of the girl next to her. Enid didn´t mind her, she was now used to Wednesday´s behaviour so she only smirked.

After the class, she went to Eugene. Now as a member of hummers, she needed to spend some time also in the hives. She owned him for having her back at times when she went to investigate. He was exactly like her brother Pugsley, defenseless against the pitfalls in the world. Somewhere inside of her, she grew a soft spot for him but she didn´t want to accept it. Like always.

„Hey Wednesday, would you mind if we left earlier today? My friend is sick and I need to bring her some medicine.“

Her eyes were enough for her to see that her only friend of him was Y/N. Eugene didn´t talk about you a lot, only sometimes, like that you are also a member of hummers but nothing more. She could see the two of you sometimes in Jericho, walking around or after classes, like two siblings.

But now she knew the reason for your absence.

Y/N was lying on her stomach with a pillow over her head. Even though her room was already dark because of the covered windows, it still felt like there was a lot of light. The bed under the girl was like lying on tough ground. The thought of lying on the ground crossed Y/N´s mind a lot of times. Her body was on fire.

It has been like this for a couple of days, only in her room, without any light or social interaction. The only one she could see this awful day was Eugene, he was so sweet. Where would she be without him, only God knows. He brings her food and all the needed medicine. Even though he was trying so hard to help you nothing worked. And it wasn´t his fault.

Because of your ability your body gets too heated up sometimes, most of the time when you use flames too much. That´s why it´s better to train more so you can control it better and at the same time your body heat. But these were the consequences of the success.

No medicine could help, or at least you thought there was nothing. When this happens you are dealing with it just like this, waiting till it stops.

The knocking on the door tore you away from thinking about this uncomfortable position your body was put into. You just wanted to ignore it, even if it was Eugene but another knocking was heard, this time more louder than the first time. It was too much and your head started to spin around the room as soon as you got up.

Slowly opening the door, leaning against the door frame. You were waiting for Eugene with the food in his hands, you were waiting for Principal Weems with her questions about your absence, and you were waiting for Thornhill with the class work you missed.

What you weren´t waiting for was Wednesday Addams standing right in front of you with a bag around her shoulder.

She was looking at you with her signature stare, staring right at your face. She noticed your fallen eyes, bags under them, and lowered shoulders.

„You look horrible.“ That was her first word as soon as she saw her classmate. It was nothing like compared to the first day she saw you.

„Appreciate it.“ Y/N whispered back at her, not moving a single muscle in her body. The taller girl thought that maybe Wednesday made a mistake and she didn´t want to go into your room. But the Addams never makes a mistake.

She slightly pushed you into the room as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She could feel the heat of your body as she touched your chest in that millisecond. It was too hot and of course, the dark-eyed girl's body was most of the time under the normal temperature of a human body so everything compared to her felt warm. But this was too much, it was like touching a fire with a bare hand.

„What are you-“

„Sit down.“ Wednesday commanded to you, cutting you from sentence and you like a good dog listened to her. You kept your eyes on her the whole time, she went to your table by the wall, pulling up her bag with some things, and she started to do something. You didn´t see what she was doing because the only thing you could see was her back.

Wednesday then turned around to you, holding something like a small cup with some strange liquid in it. You wanted to gag at the smell of it, it didn´t look drinkable.

„Drink it.“ She pushed it even further to your mouth as you only pushed your head back away from it. Was she trying to poison you? You wouldn’t be so surprised, it was Wednesday after all. She was getting frustrated by your childish actions so she took the back of your head and brought you closer to the cup. The taste of it was awful, you just wanted to throw up.

„Swallow it.“ And you did. You could feel it as it went down your throat it was cold but so refreshing after your high temperature.

„Now lay down, you will feel better. Believe me.“

And you did. Lying in that uncomfortable bed, praying to fall asleep quickly.

„It´s because it´s hotter than red. I can’t control it.“ You said with your eyes barely opened. Wednesday kept looking for you to continue. „Blue fire is hotter than red. That´s why it´s like that.“

„I know.“ She whispered back. You don´t remember much of how you fell asleep but before the Hypnos took you away you could see her sitting on your chair looking at you. 

The next day Wednesday was sitting eating her lunch at your table, again without you. She must admit it felt strange but nothing she couldn´t manage to get over.

Suddenly she felt a presence next to her, and the dark-eyed girl slowly turned to the person who dared to sit next to her. Her eyes were met with the person she helped yesterday. She didn´t expect you to recover that quickly, she was guessing you would be fine by tomorrow, but here you are the next day.

„I see you feel better.“ She commented looking at your figure, as if yesterday you weren´t dying from high temperature.

„Yes, thanks to you.“ You still kept looking at her, your eyes were wide staring at her silently thanking her. Wednesday looked at her plate, not giving you another glace, her plate with food was now the most interesting thing.

„You don´t have to thank me.“ You only smiled at her actions, it was cute like she was embarrassed for helping you. You need to pay her back.

A couple of days went by and a lot of things changed. The two girls started to talk more, it was most of the time on the lunch break or sometimes when they caught themselves in hives. They weren´t friends yet but this was a great road to start the friendship between them. Wednesday even told Y/N about her case and her progress from the start.

Y/N was an intelligent, really open-minded person. It was good to have someone like her nearby if the shorter girl needed some opinions. Y/N was always available, she never turned Wednesday down. They spend more and more time together, the young Addams sometimes sits with her in class, or goes to her dorm just to talk or for help, you even told her about your ability more. Wednesday didn´t want to accept it but somewhere deep inside of her she knew, she had grown a soft spot your you

Now it was soon to be Rave´N Dance and you were thinking about it. Going there didn´t even cross your mind in the past, you had no one to go with so every time it came you and Eugene went out and did something. But now it was a little different. Maybe she wouldn´t even go, this didn´t seem like her cup of tea and why would she even go with you? There were a lot of other candidates who would have a bigger chance than you. Or maybe she would say yes, why are you doubting yourself if she didn´t enjoy your presence you wouldn´t be spending so much time together. You need to at least try. And that´s exactly why you were now standing in front of her dorm.

After a soft knock was heard on the door Wednesday did not expect to see you. You were standing before the door a couple of steps back as if you were afraid to disturb the dorm of the two girls. You were wearing your casual clothes, a black oversized hoodie and some big sweatpants, hands behind your back.

„Hey...uhm... I-I´m sorry for disturbing you, I just wanted to ask you if...“ you didn´t even look at her, your head was down looking at your shoes. Your voice was low and Wednesday barely caught the sentence that left your lips.

„Y/N you need to talk louder than that, I can´t hear you.“ She just kept looking at you, trying to find the answer by your body language. You were nervous, because of what?

You sighed and turned your head in her direction, looking straight at her face. „I wanted to ask if you would go with me on Rave´N Dance.“

The young Addams for the first time in her life felt like she didn´t know what to say. It was unexpected. Sure it wasn´t like she would decline your offer. She liked you, as a person. You were currently number one closest to her, beside her roommate of course but with Enid it was different.

„Y/N… I already have someone to go with.“

Ouch. Well, it was something you were prepared for but it still hurts a little. Yeah, like she would go with someone like you. God, it was embarrassing.

The taller girl only nodded her head looking everywhere but at Wednesday. She pushed air out of her lungs and slowly pushed her hands from her back. „Y-Yeah okay... don´t need to worry I just thought I would ask.“ You smiled awkwardly and gave her the black rose that was hidden behind your back.

„Here... This is for you.“ You looked into her black eyes, this was the first time you saw her like this, so vulnerable, but only her eyes showed that. „Well I´ll go, you don´t have to feel sorry, I get it.“

She took the flower from your hand as you turned around and started to walk away down the hallway. Her eyes kept watching you till she didn´t see you anymore, her eyes went to the black rose in her hands. It was beautiful.

Wednesday could tell that you were the only person who she ever felt so much emotions because of. And now she felt miserable.

Today was the day of the Rave´N Dance and you were lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling. You wanted to spend some time with Eugene but he had some plans which he didn´t say what it was about so you were just by yourself.

Wednesday wanted to talk to you about it but every time she mentioned it you said it was okay, so she stopped. You didn´t want to know who she went with and if your ego would take it.

The small paper slid under your door, you stood up and took it into your hands. You didn´t know who´s writing was it.

Meet me by the entrance at 9 pm.

-WA

It was sure it wasn´t Wednesday's handwriting. You saw it a couple of times when she was giving you class work which you missed the days of your sickness. But it was her initials because you didn´t know anyone with the WA.

That´s why you came to her dorm looking for answers. You knocked on the door and waited. The note is still in your hands. The dark-eyed girl opened the door, looking at you with a questionable look in her eyes.

„Hey, what brings you here?“

You showed her the note in your hand. „I saw this note, I didn´t know i it was from you or not. You are the only one I know with a name that starts with these initials.“

Wednesday studied the note. It looked like a cheap version of her writing. As if someone was trying to copy her handwriting. It was sure who it was. She´s going to kill him.

Shouldn´t she be preparing? You just noticed her and how she still was wearing casual clothes. The dance started in a couple of hours and she still hadn´t even started.

Wednesday saw in her peripheral vision Thing, he was behind the door giving her thumb up. If he had a face she was sure he would be smiling from ear to ear.

„Yes, it´s from me. I wanted to ask if you would go with me to the Rave´N.“

What?! You were shocked, she wanted to go with you? But, but...

„But you said you are already going with someone?“ Wednesday leaned her head a little to the side, not meeting your eyes.

„Yes but something changed.“ She was still facing the other way but it took you too long to answer to she looked back at you with raising an eyebrow. „Well? Would you go with me?“ You nodded with your head.

„Great, meet me down at nine.“

And after that, you ran as fast as you could.

Wednesday closed the door and looked at Thing with dark eyes, he ran under the bed to hide from her. She just sighed and looked at the rose standing in the jar with a water on her table. She wasn’t really mad.

Your hands were shaking and your body felt hot. What were the main two things you could sense at that moment? You were standing exactly where Wednesday told you to, coming a bit earlier because it´s better than late and you could only imagine what would Wednesday do if you came late.

Looking around the passing by students somewhere double looking to make sure it was you. It was the first time they saw you in formal clothes like this. You didn´t feel very comfortable with all the glares and on top of that those tight clothes.

These things were forgotten at the same time as Wednesday came down. She was wearing a dark black dress and her hair was done perfectly. She looked beautiful, like always. You were glad that you were matching even though you didn´t talk about your clothes. You were also wearing all black.

„Hey.“ She gently greeted you as she came to you. „Are you ready?“

You nodded at her smiling softly, you offered her your arm, didn´t know if she would take it but to your surprise she did. And just like just like that you walked to the ball room. As soon as you stepped in everyone´s eyes were on both of you. It was shocking, sure a lot of people saw you these days together, but you were almost the same. But they didn´t expect to see either of you on Nevermore ball.

Enid was smirking at the two of you, glad it was you instead of Xavier. It was her plan after all and with a little help from Thing it became real.

The two of you decided to drink something and as you were standing there chatting a little with Enid, you saw Xavier´s glarings. Why is he staring at you like that? You didn´t break the eye contact, not letting him win. The dark-eyed girl saw you and took you by your hand.

„Come.“ She was really gentle that night, like a whole new person. But only you could catch that, she didn´t let anyone else see but you.

And you were having fun dancing around, chatting, and drinking. It was so refreshing, you didn´t have this much fun in a long time.

„Thank you for going with me.“ You said as she had her hands around your neck slowly dancing to the song. She kept looking at you with wide eyes. This was the second time you saw her eyes like this, the first time was a couple of days ago when you came to ask her to the dance.

This was the first time you were close like this, your hands around her slim waist and her around your neck. Looking at each other, to others around it looked like you were talking with your eyes. Your body was too hot compated to hers.

Wednesday’s heart was cold, that’s was people around her said and they weren’t far from the truth. But now as she stands infront of you and you are looking at her and holding her like she’s the only one in the world… her heart warmed.

„No need for that. I would do it twice.“ Wednesday said before she smiled gently at you.

[herstoryheaven]

Pablo Gavira x Reader: The Name On My Back

Request: Hi girl, I love the way you write about Football/F1 Drivers, I was just wondering if you could write another fic about Gavi? Any theme, cause you’re very good at writing!!😊

Prompt: Wearing her boyfriend's jersey to his match for the first time, Y/n discovers the deeper meaning behind the gesture.

Reader: Female

Word count: 2201

Average reading time: 8 min

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None

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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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The stadium buzzed with excitement, the stands filling up with fans decked out in red and blue, eager to watch FC Barcelona take on their rivals. The air was electric, filled with the anticipation of the match ahead. Y/n stood at the entrance of the stadium, her heart racing as she clutched Pablo Gavira’s jersey in her hands. It was oversized on her, making her second-guess if it looked acceptable on her. But it wasn't the fit that made her uneasy.

She had never been one to crave the spotlight, and the thought of sitting among the other players' girlfriends, all of whom seemed so effortlessly confident, made her stomach twist in knots. Her nerves felt like a thousand butterflies trapped inside her chest, wings beating frantically against her ribcage.

But Pablo, Pablo had asked her to wear it, and the memory of his pleading brown eyes, so full of warmth and affection, made it impossible for her to refuse.

“Mi amor, please?” he had begged just hours before, his voice soft and teasing as he held the jersey out to her. “You’ll look absolutely beautiful in it. Besides, I want everyone to know who you belong to.”

Y/n had hesitated, chewing her bottom lip as she looked at the jersey. "Are you sure? I mean, won’t I look silly? It’s so big on me…”

Pablo had chuckled, shaking his head as he stepped closer, his hands gently wrapping around her waist. “Princesa.” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear, “You’ll look perfect. And I’ll be proud knowing you’re wearing my name.”

She had melted under his touch, his words wrapping around her like a blanket, comforting and secure. The way he had called her “Princesa.” the soft whisper of the word in her ear, had sealed her fate. She couldn’t deny him, not when he looked at her like that, as if she was the only person in the world.

Now, as she made her way to the bleachers, she could feel the weight of the stares on her back. The jersey, with “Gavi” written across the back in bold letters, felt like a spotlight, drawing everyone’s eyes to her. She tugged at the hem again, her fingers fidgeting nervously as she tried to calm her nerves, but her efforts were hopeless.

Sliding into an empty seat near the front, Y/n noticed that the other girlfriends were already there, chatting and laughing as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Their perfectly styled hair and fashionable outfits made her feel even more out of place, her nerves gnawing at her confidence. She focused on adjusting the jersey once more, trying to blend in, though she knew it was a useless effort.

That was when one of the girls leaned over, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulder, a friendly smile on her face. “You’re Y/n, right?” she asked, her tone light and playful.

Y/n nodded, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “Yeah, that’s me.”

The girl’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she looked Y/n up and down, her gaze lingering on the oversized jersey. “They’re not staring at you because of how big it is, silly. They’re staring at the name on it.”

Y/n blinked in surprise, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink. “Oh.” she mumbled, glancing around at the curious eyes still lingering on her. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal. Hasn’t his previous girlfriends worn his jersey before?”

The girl, whose name she vaguely recalled as Mikky, snorted, shaking her head. “No, he didn’t let them. He told them that he’d only let his future wife wear it.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, her heart skipping a beat. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mikky’s smile widened, and she winked at Y/n. “You heard me. It looks like you’re special, Y/n. He must really care about you.”

Y/n felt her blush deepen, her mind spinning with the revelation. She hadn’t realized the significance of wearing Pablo’s jersey, hadn’t thought it would mean anything more than just a show of support. But now, knowing that he had reserved this gesture for someone he truly saw a future with, she felt a warmth spread through her chest, a mix of happiness and nervousness.

Before she could fully process Mikky’s words, the stadium erupted in cheers as the players began to take the field. The atmosphere shifted, the tension rising as the match was about to begin. Y/n’s eyes were immediately drawn to Pablo, her heart swelling with pride as she watched him step onto the pitch. He moved with such grace and skill, every touch of the ball drawing cheers from the crowd.

But every now and then, he would glance up at the stands, his eyes scanning the sea of faces until they found hers. When they did, he would smile, an intimate, knowing smile that made her heart flutter and her worries fade away. His gaze lingered on her, the connection between them clear even across the distance.

“He’s been looking for you.” Mikky teased, nudging Y/n gently with her elbow. “You’ve got him completely smitten.”

Y/n bit her lip, a shy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I think I’m the one who’s smitten.” she admitted quietly, her eyes never leaving Pablo.

Mikky chuckled. “It’s mutual, trust me.”

As the match progressed, Y/n found herself getting lost in the game, her initial nervousness melting away. She cheered along with the crowd, her heart racing with every close call and every brilliant play Pablo made. She couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride each time his name echoed through the stadium, the cheers of the fans a testament to his talent.

And through it all, she wore that jersey with a newfound confidence. Because now, she knew it wasn’t just a piece of fabric she was wearing, it was a symbol of Pablo’s feelings for her, a silent promise of what will be.

-----

As the final whistle echoed through the stadium, signaling Barcelona’s victory, the crowd erupted in a deafening cheer. The entire arena buzzed with the energy of triumph, the roars of fans rising in waves, but for Y/n, the noise around her seemed to fade into the background. All she could focus on was one thing, Pablo Gavira.

He was still on the field, surrounded by his teammates, their arms slung over each other’s shoulders as they celebrated the hard fought win. Yet, even in the midst of the celebration, Pablo’s eyes were searching for something or rather someone. When they finally found hers, a confident smile spread across his face, the joy of victory tempered by an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. There was something different in his gaze, something deep, almost possessive, that made her heart race.

As she made her way to the edge of the field, her heart pounded with a mix of anticipation and nerves. The other girlfriends were heading down as well, their steps light and easy, but Y/n felt like she was walking on air, her emotions bubbling up inside her. She still couldn’t shake the feeling of the jersey she was wearing, its oversized fabric hanging loosely off her frame, the name “Gavi” written boldly on her back. But the secret meaning of it, a revelation only she and a few others knew, made her heart flutter.

Just as she reached the sideline, Pablo broke away from his teammates and jogged toward her, his movements fluid and determined. The sight of him, all raw energy and focused, made her breath catch in her throat. And when he finally reached her, he didn’t hesitate, didn’t slow down. With a swift, determent motion, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his body, the sudden contact leaving her breathless.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to see you wearing this.” he murmured, his voice low and husky as he leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear, sending a delightful shiver down her spine.

Y/n’s breath hitched as his hand tightened slightly on her waist, his touch sending sparks across her skin. “I’m glad you like it.” she managed to reply, her voice a bit shaky from the proximity and the intensity of his gaze.

“Like it?” Pablo chuckled, the sound deep and rich, vibrating against her. “I love it, princesa. You’re mine, and now everyone knows it.” His words, laced with possessiveness, sent a thrill through her, and he brushed his lips against the shell of her ear, teasing her with a barely-there kiss that made her knees feel weak.

She looked up at him, her cheeks flushed, her heart racing. “Pablo, I—”

He silenced her with a finger to her lips, his eyes darkening with an emotion that made her pulse quicken. “Shh, I know.” he whispered, his voice filled with a confidence that sent a thrill through her. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Before she could respond, Pablo captured her lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was a claiming, a declaration, filled with a passion that left her breathless. His hand slid from her waist to the small of her back, pressing her even closer to him, and she melted into his embrace, her hands finding their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

The world around them seemed to fade away, the cheers of the crowd, the flash of cameras, all of it dimming as Y/n lost herself in the feel of him, in the intensity of his kiss. His lips moved against hers with a hunger that made her heart race, her body responding instinctively to the heat of his touch.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were blazing, and he let out a low, satisfied growl. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to show the world the woman who I want to spend forever with” he said, his voice rough with emotion, his breath mingling with hers.

Y/n felt like she was floating, her mind spinning from the intensity of his kiss. “Pablo…” she whispered, still catching her breath, her hands still resting on his shoulders as if she couldn’t bear to let go.

He grinned, that confident, almost cocky smile returning as he leaned down to place a series of soft kisses along her jawline, moving slowly toward her lips again. “I’m not done with you yet.” he teased, his voice dropping an octave as he kissed her just at the corner of her mouth, deliberately holding back, his lips hovering dangerously close.

She let out a small, involuntary whimper, her hands tightening around his shoulders. “Pablo, you’re teasing me.” she accused, though the breathlessness in her voice gave her away.

He chuckled again, the sound deep and full of mischief. “Maybe.” he admitted, his lips brushing against hers again, but this time he didn’t pull away. He kissed her deeply, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that made her forget everything but the feel of him, the way he held her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathing heavily, Pablo rested his forehead against hers, his expression softening, though the intensity in his gaze remained. “I want you by my side, Y/n. Always.” he said, his voice softer now but no less intense. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and I’m not letting you go.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she looked up at him, her eyes shining with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere.” she promised, her voice steady despite the rush of feelings inside her. There was a certainty in her words, a truth that resonated deep within her.

Pablo’s smile softened, his eyes filled with a mix of affection and determination, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips before wrapping her in a tight embrace, his arms encircling her waist, holding her close. “Good.” he whispered against her hair, his voice filled with relief and contentment. “Because I need you with me, mi amor.”

As the crowd around them began to fade, the other players and their girlfriends leaving the field, Pablo kept his arm around Y/n’s waist, leading her off the pitch with a sense of pride and ownership. They walked together, their fingers intertwined, and every now and then, he would steal a kiss, his lips brushing against hers with a playful, teasing touch that made her giggle softly, her heart light and full.

“You know.” Pablo said as they exited the stadium, his voice filled with that confident edge again, a playful glint in his eyes, “I think I’m going to need you to wear my jersey to every game from now on. It’s lucky, after all.”

Y/n laughed, the sound light and full of joy, a sound that made Pablo’s heart swell. “Only if you promise to keep winning.” she teased back, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him.

He pulled her close, his lips ghosting over her ear as he whispered, “I’ll win as long as you’re by my side, princesa.”

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Requested by: Anonymous

[hummingbee-lievable]

Song of the Day #24:

'Mile Magnificent' by Molly OfGeography (released 2019).

An apartment when it's empty echoes lovely, bright and clean

Sing odes to green-blue water that we stole so it comes free

All things end, it's part of living; forest fires feed the trees

Lift your glasses full of sunshine, sing a toast to gasoline

Track #4 on 'Myths'.

Fun fact: Molly refers to this song as 'The Song My Producer Said I Was Not Allowed To Name “CHICAGO IS BETTER THAN NEW YORK”'.* Honestly, her descriptions for so of the songs on this album are hilarious:

'1) The Song That Made My Producer Go, “Wait, What Was That Bit About Worms?”

2) The Song My Producer Said I Had To Append A Parenthetical To So That People Would Be Able To Find It Because The Lyrics Never Mention The Title Once But I Was Raised On Fanfiction So Joke’s On You, Pal! I Love A Long Title With A Parenthetical In It!!!

3) The Song That Is Sad'

Pretty dang accurate, honestly. Also, I think she has a Tumblr!!! *Gasp.* What if I...tag her???

@ofgeography Hiiii and thank you, your music is amazing.

I did it bees and knees (yes, this is my hip modern way of including every kind of person, fight me or provide more hilarious options; I'm content with either option).

I have had a fun time perusing this flavourful dose of humanity's wild website and I think my fun fact today should be her story where she becomes a donut god:

You're welcome, singular entity that reads this blog (that entity being my sister and/or the rogue bots, doesn't matter, we're all friends here).

Personal blurb: Alright, full disclosure time: I discovered this artist because of the 'Good Omens' fandom. Someone said we were missing out on feelings and shared this song, and when I tell you I felt those feelings, I certainly don't mean that I danced to this on repeat for several months (and her 'Hanahaki (Bloom)'), often at 3 in the morning in the bathroom. Of course not.

Pro tip: dancing with your toothbrush in your mouth is a choking hazard, but in the spirit of Alanis Morissette, I recommend doing it anyway:

One of my favourite books in the world is 'The Overstory' by Richard Powers. In it, one of the themes that arises often is the concept of pyrophitic serotinous plants (it's okay, I won't remember it either). They are plants that need fire to open. (There are actually different types of pyrophitic plants, from passive to fire-activated but I probably shouldn't start talking about that because you'll need to pull out the duct tape.)

(Technically, 'serotinous' plants are a category in which plants release seeds over a longer period of time, and it doesn't matter how they are released, but the seeds that open by fire fit into this category.) The eucalyptus tree, the lodgehole pine, and other trees encase their seeds in resin that can only be melted by fire (thereby releasing the seeds).

The thing that I love about this concept is this: we need to burn to grow. I recently read this book called 'Life in Oil' about the Cofàn tribe in Ecuador who were drastically impacted by oil companies. And the thing was: Yes. They were impacted horribly (physically, psychologically, environmentally, the works). They also survived. They figured out, through tumult and trial and falling apart, how to keep going.

This song screams to me of that same instinct. I mean, look at us. This is what we do, isn't it? We fight, we fall, we continue. We're just like every other aspect of nature in that we are born, and in our fight to continue, we impact everything around us. We're just a part of the cycle and eventually we will decay back to where we belong and serve as soil for our children. And all we'll be? A story. And after a while, not even that. Just a whisper of what was.

In a way? I find that freeing. We might as well live the life we want to live; how little it will matter. (This isn't absolution, please don't go murdering people.) I just mean that I don't have to put so much weight into every little thing. Not everything has to be joyful or depressing (and if we really think about it, everything is always a balance of both). It can just be what it is.

We are as we are. And we don't have to love ourselves for it, but we don't have to hate ourselves either.

I love the lyrics to this song. For a long time, I misheard 'We're animals of love/ the city never makes us beg' as 'the city never makes us pay' and I don't know why? But I kind of like that image.

We are animals of love. And that's okay.

We are the cogs in a continuous cycle and we always will be.

I think often of this monologue (content warning for the video, it's gory, but you don't need to watch it, you can just listen) from 'Midnight Mass' so often, in regards to this:

We just are. Everything just is.

[hmslusitania]

For the prompts pretty please, thank you :)

#31 &/or #24

31 (I’ll take that bet) &/or 24 (“They said you were so cute!” “That’s not what I said.”) I went with "I'll take that bet" and used it as an excuse to further my "Tim and Steph's relationship is so much more important to me now that it's not endgame" agenda*

Steph considers him with narrowed eyes across the table in their favourite coffee shop. “I don’t think you mean it.”

“I do!” Tim insists, and takes a sip of his latte. “I promise to make a pact that we should both ask our crushes out in one week’s time, or we have to do a forfeit task as decided by the winner.”

“Okay, but what are you gonna do when I’m the winner and my forfeit task is to tell you that you absolutely must, no prevarication or equivocation, ask Conner out within three business days,” Steph replies.

“Well, first off,” Tim says. “I don’t think you’ll actually do it, and so my forfeit task will be to tell you that you have three business days to ask Cass out.”

There’s silence in their corner of the coffee shop while they both take sips of their drinks.

“God, what are we gonna do if they say no?” Steph asks with a small, self-deprecating smile that Tim hates to see.

“She won’t,” he promises. It’s not that Cass is his closest sibling, the one he knows best, the one whose answer he can more or less guarantee. That’s still definitely Dick and probably always will be. But he does know Cass, and he knows Steph, and he knows what people like him see in people like Steph, and he genuinely can’t imagine a future where Cass turns Steph down.

“What if they’re straight though?” Steph asks, and takes a sip of her chai latte, giving Tim a flash of big blue eyes of doubt over the rim of the oversized mug.

Tim… honestly hasn’t considered the possibility.

“They’re not,” he says, and actually feels the confidence in his own words. “But even if they are, they’re allies so they won’t be assholes about it. The bet is just that we’ll ask our crushes out, and is not dependent on them saying yes.”

Steph hums, thinking about it, and takes a sip. It gives her a foam moustache and a Tim of even six months prior would’ve leaned across the table to kiss it off for her. But as much as he loves Steph — and he does, he still does, and he always will — it’s not… like that anymore. It makes him want a better designation than just “best friend.” Because, like, Steph absolutely is one of his best friends, and to date, she’s the only person in that category (generally well populated, because he doesn’t think most people have more than one person there, let alone three to five) who he’s also slept with. He wants some sort of designation that says, “Yeah, she’s my best friend, and sure we’ve had sex, and yes, absolutely I would burn down the multiverse for her, but like. We’re never gonna get married. And we’ve moved past the point of romance, and we’re just…”

But they don’t have that word in English, or in any language Tim knows. Steph is just his… most-person, and even if he has to abase himself in a public forum to get it to happen, he’s going to get her the girlfriend she deserves. That the girlfriend Steph both deserves and wants is Tim’s sister and will succinctly place Steph within their family sphere where she belongs forever is not technically an aspect of the bet, but is a positive side effect.

“Okay,” Steph says, lowering her mug to the table and extending her hand Tim’s direction. “One week, we’ll meet back here, and whichever of us hasn’t asked our crush out has to undertake the winner’s challenge.”

“I will take that bet,” Tim agrees, and shakes her hand. Steph nods, and Tim nods, and they spend a moment trying to intimidation-squeeze each other’s hands, and then collapse into mutual giggles and return to their drinks. Tim has residual anxiety bouncing around his chest, knocking against the insides of his ribs, and from the jittery way Steph eventually lifts her mug and takes her next sip, he thinks she does too.

Because these aren’t… well. They’re crushes, sure, that they’re both talking about: they’re people where the thought of their returned affection makes their insides feel squished and crushed down to insignificant shreds, because the point is the other person’s happiness. And maybe it’s hubris and arrogance to assume that they are the person best suited to provide happiness to their respective crushes, but…

But, well. Hope springs eternal.

Tim shakes Steph’s hand and he takes the bet, and he finishes his latte and he means to seek out Superboy immediately, to find Kon and ask him, hey, would you ever consider perhaps… a date? With me? And then there’s a whole thing with like a Doomsday clone and the entire Superfam being on high alert and having no use for powerless heroes like Tim or the entire Batfam save Duke, and, well.

A week goes by. Without Tim meaning it to. Because Gotham’s had it’s own shit (has there ever been a week in modern history where Gotham hasn’t had it’s own problems?) and then without warning, it’s Sunday, and the closest he’s gotten to Kon is a hackneyed text conversation, and he’s sitting down at the café table across from Steph who’s fucking glowing, and…

“She said yes, huh?” Tim guesses, and it genuinely makes him feel warm inside like someone’s replaced his vitreous humours with the radioactive-looking contents of a lava lamp, and it’s everything he’s wanted for Steph — and for Cass, however much he does his best to stay the hell out of his siblings’ love lives — and Steph blushes bright red and hides her smile in the foam of her latte.

“Yeah,” Steph says, and utterly fails to hide her delight. “Not so much ‘yes’ to a date as like. We’re girlfriends now.”

“Good,” Tim says, and he means it with his whole heart.

Steph laughs, and grins, and has to pause to wipe a few drips from her eyes. And Tim gets it. These aren’t just crushes they’ve been talking about. These are the people who are their endgame-(if the universe gets rewritten please return to:)-type love stories.

“So I guess I get to pick the winner’s challenge,” Steph says, sniffing and taking a drink of her latte.

“I want you to know, I would’ve asked Kon out already if not for the whole everything they’ve had going on in Metropolis this week,” Tim says.

“Oh, I know,” Steph assures him. “Which is why I booked you guys dinner in Philly, outside both Gotham and Metropolis zones of bullshit nonsense.”

“Yeah,” Tim says. “Okay.”

Steph grins at him, and the next time he sees her, so does Cass, and when their dinner reservation comes up two days later, so does Kon.

“Quick question,” Tim says, grinning at him when they meet up outside the restaurant Steph had picked. It’s a sushi bar, because she knows Tim likes showing off his dexterity with chopsticks, and because she knows Kon well enough to know he’s proud of being the one, solitary Midwesterner in the Superfam who isn’t cowed by the heat of wasabi. “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

Kon frowns at him while they wait in the vestibule for their reservation, the furrow in his brow casting a delicious shadow over his deep blue eyes, and the Super-red velvet blazer he’s wearing.

“Isn’t this already a date?” Kon asks.

Tim grins, and threads his hand into Kon’s hair to pull him down into a kiss, which Kon goes along with and accepts with a slight purr Tim intends to explore later.

“Yeah, I just… had to make sure, so I didn’t lose the bet fully,” Tim explains.

“This is a bet?” Kon asks, resting his hands at the slight dip in Tim’s waist.

“Not a real one with rom-com consequences like, I dunno, She’s All That, or whatever,” Tim promises. “Just that I failed to ask you out before Steph asked Cass out, and so my punishment was to go on a date with the guy I liked.”

Kon squints down at him, and it lasts long enough Tim has a moment to wonder about his success at this particular situation, even though Kon’s already been okay with kissing him.

“You and Steph have a weird relationship,” Kon informs him, and before Tim can protest, he leans down to kiss him again, entirely on his own volition. “I’m glad.”

Tim grins against Kon’s mouth and is almost ungrateful when the maître’ d tells them he has a place for them to sit. They follow the host into the dark blue-and-black lit restaurant, and accept their pot of tea, and Tim finds himself looking from his menu to Kon’s face. Back and forth like his neck’s on a swivel.

“Glad we have a weird relationship like you’ll… be my boyfriend?” Tim asks.

It takes Kon a beat to look up from his own menu, but when he does it’s with a grin that’s sunshiney enough to overwhelm the entire restaurant, whether or not they realise an actual member of the Superfam — and not just the fam, but specifically a Kryptonian — is responsible.

“Yeah,” Kon says, and leans across their table to press a quick kiss to Tim’s lips. “I will definitely be your boyfriend.”

And, frankly? Tim thinks while he grins down at his menu. Who needs bets anyway? At least when you’re betting on a sure thing?

[junkiespromise]

superstar | ms47

request: can "superstar" be about mick? y/n is a very supportive girlfriend and she cheers for him and goes to every race but she's not famous, she's a "pretty normal" person compared to him, so his fans don't really understand what he sees in her?

summary: where two young kids fall in love but the world one of them is involved in seems to be against their happiness.

warnings: angst yeah and a bit of relationship doubts.

notes: the second story and first request of the eras masterlist is finally here! i hope ypu guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writting it, also it was my first social media au, and remember that requests are still opened!

masterlist

Mick’s life had always been filled with the thrilling sound of car engines and the adrenaline that comes with excessive speed. His father being probably the most famous Formula One driver in history was perhaps the reason why he was so interested and enamored by the sport, making him always wonder if his father was not who he was, would he even be this obsessed with it, or would he want to be a football player or a pianist.

So he made his way through the motorsport world, karts like any kid and then a formula three and two champion until he achieved the highest category and just like his father he became a Formula One driver but he realized that even now when he had finally achieved everything he had dreamed of, he felt, lonely.

Even when he stepped inside the most rapid vehicles in history, where he thought he would feel the most complete, his heart told him that something was missing, to make it alright, to put it all in place. He didn’t know what it was but his soul ached for it, he longed for a deeper connection, someone who would see him for who he truly was and understand his mind and soul.

So when he crossed paths with Y/N, one Sunday evening back home in Germany those lingering feelings disappeared, he knew she was the one.

Mick remembers the day they met as if it was yesterday, he remembered her clothes and could describe in a detailed way how her hair was wrapped in a hair band forming a low ponytail that rested on her shoulder.

He was wearing some long-sleeved shirt that was years old and a pair of dark blue jeans tightened with a belt that probably belonged to his father, considering the damaged black leather of it.

That cold evening he and his sister decided to go out for a coffee, and after an insisting chat with Gina, he decided to go. He was back home, finally, after a never stopping routine of constant travel he had some time for his own, and like every year he went to Germany, with his family. So that day they decided on a small café that not many people frequented.

Mick had asked for a cappuccino and Gina for a macchiato, his order was the first one they called but just as he was stepping towards the girl who was handing it to him, exactly like in a rom-com his sister made him watch, he felt a coldness hit his chest, in a second his white long-sleeved shirt was splashed in brown iced coffee.

A wave of apologies said by a sweet voice filled his ears and that was the moment he finally looked at the girl who had accidentally thrown her coffee onto his shirt.

—Don't worry too much, I'm lucky it was an iced one—He said, slightly chuckling, placing his hand on her wrists, stopping her from smudging it more. Now his mind wondered why she was even ordering it when outside you could see slight traces of snow.

Their eyes finally met, for the first time, before, she was too busy trying to get rid of the stain on his shirt to pay attention to the person she was cleaning it off of. Embarrassed by the situation with her cheeks flushed in a light pink that went all the way up to her ears she stopped for a moment the apologies.

They told each other their names and rapidly started talking, as if faith had brought them together and made them meet like that. In the back, Gina laughed at the poor flirting attempts of her brother who had also completely forgotten about their arranged siblings' coffee date.

And for months after that, they were friends, each too afraid to confess the feelings they had, until finally, one night, when he had traveled to her hometown as a surprise Mick tried to in the most rom-comish way he could, confess his feelings.

Afraid about not hearing an answer to his confession, all kinds of thoughts run through his mind, maybe he had read the signals wrongly and she just wanted to be friends.

But for his luck, the thoughts were interrupted by a pair of lips clinging onto his.

Now, months into their relationship he knew that she was that missing piece he had looked for all along. He raced in the fastest cars in the world yet he felt more adrenaline when he looked at her, his nervousness when he started a race did not compare to that of placing his eyes on hers. And his worries faded to nothing when he looked at her

But people started talking, they always did, and at first, not caring was so easy, in the end, a relationship with a superstar who has thousands of fans all around the world was hard for everyone who was in one, except that to Y/N, his fans seemed harsher on the critics.

They speculated about her motives, if it was for some quick fame or the money he could bring to your home or even the connections she could get and that after catching them she would rapidly leave him, both of them knew the truth, they loved each other and nothing could stop them from it but sometimes it felt like they could.

Mick knew he shouldn't doubt their relationship but he could not stop his mind from wandering if she truly loved him, he knew he loved her but what if it was not like that to her, what if they were right.

The doubts started to get to his head, the side comments, the replies to any post he made about her or she made about him, they, at a point, became to much, so the distancing started between them, slowly, but not slow enough for her to not notice.

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, lilymhe, yourbestfriend and 537 others

yourusername half of my weekend dump !

view all 372 comments

sarahluvs47 only here for the mick content like all of us.

formulaleclerc this the girl mick is dating, why? lol

wagsl0ver no one know really, he could

truly do much better

yourbestfriend you look so hot, how do you do it, stop

As the sun began to set in the Saudi Arabia grand prix circuit, everyone's faces filled with excitement, the voices high pitched with enthusiasm. She stood with her hands on the metal railings that separated the crowd from the track.

Although excitement filled the air, Y/N's heart ached. She loved Mick, so much, his love completed her, but people commented on it, on a love that was so pure it seemed almost indestructible, and for a moment she was so foolish she believed that, that their love would be forever, even with all the comments from the outside, their own little world would stay the same.

She knew, the second Mick had told her he was a driver, a formula one driver, that it would be hard to maintain a relationship with a superstar like him. But she was willing to try, even if it meant that the moment she stepped out into the world as Mick Schumacher's girlfriend, that her way of living would not be the same and that that quiet life she liked to have would not be possible, at least for the time they dated. And for him, she was willing to try.

Taking a deep breath in, she locked her phone, reading through the dozens of messages and comments people left her was exhausting and she did not understand the why of them, she hadn't done anything to anyone, she was aware of the ruthlessness of the internet but she had never experienced it first hand.

The comments had been recently getting to her head and she knew they had gotten to Mick's too. Lately he had been more distant, quieter also, and she didn't know what to do about it, talk would be the obvious thing but she avoided serious talks at all costs, she wasn't good at it and her eyes got all watery when she made eye contact with the one she was talking too. But, right now, it seemed like the only thing she could do, force him to chat with her.

…

The wheels on the car were barely been held together, after forty two laps with them and fifty seven laps total, the race was coming to an end and for the first time, Mick, was finally going to place his feet in the podium, second place, just milliseconds behind the blue car numbered "one".

Gina and Corinna sat by her side, the three of them on the verge of tears. The cameras pointed at their faces and then back at the race, she wouldn't celebrate yet, to her it was bad luck. Her heart accelerated at the same pace as the cars passing on the screen in front of her, one more lap and it was his.

The checkered flag appeared in the air, finally it had come to an end, the moment the car passed the checkered flag, the three women and the entire team got up, at the same time, screaming and hugging each other. Now they waited for him to arrive and congratulate him.

Her eyes placed on his, she knew that behind that helmet, a pair of blue eyes were staring back. She smiled when he finally ran towards his team to hug them, the flashing of cameras and screams filled her ears but as soon as he reached out for her and his arms wrapped around her, her head on his chest, his helmet still on, it felt as if they were the last people on earth, just them.

It was celebration day for Mick Schumacher, after that eventful race and his first podium he could finally celebrate it, with his friends and his team, even part of his family and of course, his girlfriend who had been with him for months now and was one of his biggest supporters.

He had changed already after a shower, into a pair of light washed jeans and a navy blue shirt. Mick looked at himself in the bathroom mirror one last time, he didn't need to look great but in the end it was a celebration for him so he had to be presentable at least. After a few minutes in the bathroom he finally came out to go look for his girl, who he thought was going to go with him.

He was surprised to find his girlfriend facing towards the TV, sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing a matching black and light pink sweats set he had gotten her one time after she had told him she had liked it. Her phone facing down by her side and her hands where, he supposed, resting on her face, covering it.

— Hey, what's wrong? Are you not coming? — He sat by her side, putting his arm around her, fingers softly twisting her hair between them.

— We have to talk Mick, I, I can't stand this anymore — Her voice cracked at the end, even if she tried to hide it, he knew it had.

— What? Y/N, look at me, what is going on? — His hands grabbed her face now, his blue eyes scanning over her features, she was god damn gorgeous.

— Those comments, you know, they keep saying that I'm only with you because of your connections and shit, and you have been so distant lately I just — She looked in his eyes, not for long before she drifted them away from him and started to look at different things that seemed now, extremely interesting. Not the best at keeping eye contact especially in moments like those.

Mick immediately reacted back with the intention of talking back, refusing to hear her re-call the comments but Y/N talked before.

— I just don't want that to destroy us and you to think that I'm looking for fame, I just love you so much, and you've been so great to me so you suddenly distancing yourself from me is, I, please don't hear them —

His heart broke when he heard her shut down cries and saw her tear stained face. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and his hands grabbed her head softly and hid it against his chest, immediately feeling a wetness on his shirt, her tears.

A wave of sorries emitted in a low flooded her ears his nose against her head whispering them closely.

— I, you were right, I did listen to some comments, but I doubted myself and if I would be able to have a true relationship, and with you after today I know I have it. — Y/N felt his smile as he talked just by hearing the way he said the words. — When mom talked to me after the race she told me that you were the one and that you looked at me the same way she looks at dad —

The blond haired boy smiled as soon as he felt the smile of her girlfriend on his chest.

With his right hand, the one which he was not holding her with, he cleaned her tears from her face — I love you, so much I can barely hold it inside of myself, okay? You are the best girl someone could ever ask for. — She said it back after that and he repeated it a few times before falling quiet and for a few minutes they stayed like that, her arms wrapped around his chest and her head on his chest, one of his hands on her back and the other on her hair softly caressing it.

When they separated her hands went to her cheeks to wipe away the tears she had, now drying. — So, you're staying? — He asked, she simply shook her head — I'll go get ready, i have the cutest outfit planned —

She got up and walked to the bathroom quickly — You had an outfit planned without even knowing if I would get on the podium? — he asked, laying down on the bed — Of course! I felt it in my heart, you know, that you were going to be up there. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to jinx it, so I kept it to myself. — Mick smiled, looking at the ceiling, she had felt in her heart that he would be on the podium, how was he supposed to act after knowing that.

— Okay, I'm ready, let's go — She appeared on the room again, wearing a silk dress, black fishnets and a pair of black mary janes on her feet, her hair slightly wet and her eyes painted with a sharp eyeliner.

— You look, great, gorgeous actually — He walked up to her, admiring the way she looked, when he was finally in front of her he kissed her, with love and pureness.

To Mick, Y/N was his superstar and he knew she was hers too.

mickschumacher

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[dawnoftime22]

all the things I shouldn't.

| W.M -> N.R

Undeserving of a Love Like Yours, Chapter 9

Chapter Warnings: sleeping problems, this chapter somehow contains going to sleep three times in detail and R raving over sea animals (aka me writing and raving about sea animals) half not proofread

Summary: After dealing with the appearance of a memory you once thought had been long gone once ago, you get a message from the redhead, asking to go out once more.

Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.

Word Count: 6.3k

Category: Fluff! (teensy hurt/comfort)

A/N: I feel like I'm making these way too long? but the chapter would feel like it has holes without it having the small little details so :') just tuck yourself in cozily and enjoy<3

Series Playlist

| Started on 13/04/2024, 1:39 PM |

| Finished on 29/04/2024, 12:26 AM |

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

<- Chapter 8 Chapter 10 ->

"take the risk. who knows what lies ahead of your path?"

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

-- a week later...

The bedroom was bright from the open windows, air flowing in naturally through the space. It was quiet, other than from the distant gentle snoring of Kate sleeping in the living room, your door being mindlessly open.

You were not in bed, but reorganizing your closet, having gotten home from the mall with Kate and some new clothes. The gentle fabric of each shirt brushed against your skin with your touch.

There were music playing in your ears, making you nod your head slightly to the beat and hum, making sure not to sing too loud or something so you wouldn't wake up the sleeping archer.

You were about to finish up, but a box in the corner of your vision catches your eye. Just above all the clothes.

It had been sitting there for days, yet you somehow hadn't noticed until now. It was brought with you when you arrived, but you didn't put much thought to it, thinking it was just your old belongings.

Upon closer inspection with a step forward, you knew it wasn't the box you were supposed to grab. You push open the closet door further, then push yourself on your tip-toes to reach it. With the pull of your fingers, it soon goes into your hold.

The top was slightly dusty, so you brush it off with your hand, about to open it, but then taking a pause to sneeze. Your face contorts into a slight grimace as your eyes trail up, tilting your head so you can peek to see if Kate woke up.

The only movement visible was Lucky shifting slightly in his own sleep, while Kate had her arm hanging off the side of the couch, Lucky's fur just tickling her hand. She was still asleep.

With a soft sigh of relief, you look back down on the box. There was nothing written down on it anywhere, so it only made your curiosity grow.

You walk to your bed, opting to place it on there. It made sounds of clunking and was just a teensy bit heavy. When your fingertips gently grasp the lid, you hesitate, but go in for the dive anyway.

Once it was opened, your eyes widen slightly, and it confirmed your suspicions of it not being yours. Or...half yours. Inside, held stacks of custom CDs, writing, and paper on the cases and within them. Some, not even having anything but a case.

Your heart raced as you read some of the writing, but you try your best to ignore it. Beside all the CDs sat an old portable player, one that was yours. Technically you didn't get the wrong box, but you were supposed to only grab the cd player.

A flicker of your eyes makes you stare at the discs once more. It was nearly getting to your nerves with how much she was following you around. But...something about it only wanted you to linger.

You shouldn't play one.

Yet, you couldn't help but grab one of the cases and open it. The writing was on the disc for this one. Blue marker on the front with a smiley face. It wrote, 'Roadtrips!' and your initial with Wanda. The disc had rainbow rays, reflecting back light from whichever way you angled it.

The lid of the player opens with a bit of fiddling, and you insert the CD. With the earphones plugged in and placed in your ear, you click play.

...Nothing.

You check the player, flipping it and clicking play again.

Ah, the batteries. Too bad, you should just turn around now by putting it back and never touch the box again. Yes? No, instead your eyes catch exactly two batteries, hiding between the cds and the wall of the box.

The world was tempting and teasing you, its almost making you crazy. Your hand reaches in and grabbed them to then place them into the battery compartment.

A breath goes out from your lips, your fingertip atop the button before you press on it. The white noise and the sound of the disc moving quietly sounded out.

As the starting melody played, it was like a knife first poked at your chest, then utterly, slowly, goes in to stab your heart.

This one, you would sing at the top of your lungs with her while you were in the car, going anywhere in the world. Just you, and her, and nothing else mattered. God, you missed those moments.

Your fingertips traced the others, moving them with a few noises as it hit against one another. The others, baking...dancing, some albums...and just playlists of songs you both loved, mixed together. What were you doing?

Quickly, you pull out your earphones, making it fall down to the bed. The music was now distant, quiet. But realizing you could still even hear it, you pause it.

A breath you didn't even know you were holding left your lungs. You shouldn't have done that. When you heard some sounds from the living room, you try to be fast with putting everything back in the box except for the player.

But the movement was only Lucky, your eyes watching him pad off to his bowls in the view of the doorway.

Your eyes falter of any panic and your shoulders relax as you went to store the box of memories back in the closet.

A few steps took you to your door, leaning yourself against the frame to peek and see if Kate was still sleeping. She was indeed. You supposed she had gotten tired, either from laughing, joking and simply having fun, or she was exhausted from doing her archery practices and going out with you.

Nonetheless, you check the time, having noticed the windows showing the sky going into a gradient, and the clouds evaporating.

It was 7:15 PM. You nibbled on your lip as you thought it over. You'll deal with everything else later. The task of organizing of your closet was finished anyway.

You close the bedroom door with a gentle shut, turning back around to face your room and go fall into the comfort of your bed.

As time went by, a yawn from you passes with it, and you switched your position all you could, picking up a book, or even tried to focus on your phone, but then you give up on everything and just decided to simply lay against the soft mattress.

Soon enough, your eyes grow heavy, and your vision grew darker. The daylight was also starting to fade away, and it added further to the luring sleepiness. Your fingers curled up and you closed your eyes, slowly falling into deep sleep.

As you were unaware, the sleep that was expected to be a few minutes of a nap, turns to hours, and you didn't even get to see the moon for the day.

Sometime later, you open your eyes in a half-awake state, noticing it was still daytime. Well, to you. It was actually now morning rather than afternoon as you checked your phone. A sigh leaves you.

Your eyes linger on your closed bedroom door. You only curled up further. You don't want to get up yet.

No one had texted, called, or gone in your room, so what's the point? Your tired eyes close once more as your breathing stayed soft, slowly going back to sleep while the house was quiet.

The hand of the clock moves slowly, yet the hours went like nothing as your mind rested.

"Y/N. Hey, you have to wake up." A gentle voice said next to you as you felt a shake on your shoulder. You groan, getting your peaceful time disturbed.

Kate watched as your splayed out arms moved as you shifted yourself to see her for a split second, your eyes barely open.

"What time is it...?" You murmured, the words barely even making sense to Kate, but to you it did.

"What?" She asked softly, confusion obvious in her voice while you yawned, turning to rest your cheek on the bed. She notices the sleepiness in your eyes when your face appears in her view.

"What time...is it?" You repeated slowly, trying to be clearer and raise your volume just a tad more. Your eyelids fell back to a close, too. Kate raises her eyebrows, crossing her arms as her concern grows.

"Its eleven. Come on, wake up, shower." She gestured with her hands, but you couldn't even see her. You made a sound that only convinced Kate it was going to take her more than that to get you to wake up or even get out of bed.

When she waited for a few seconds and you didn't answer or move, she offers with something that could hold more interest. "I'll make some waffles for you. You want some?"

Still, quietness came from you. You've gone back to sleep.

Gently, Kate reaches out and places her hand on your shoulder once more. "Hey." She swipes her thumb in a gentle motion, not wanting you to get mad at her for bothering you or something.

She then sighed softly.

Kate's eyes roam around the room, trying to see what could have possibly made you like this, but found nothing. Maybe you really were just tired. But the afternoon time staring back at her on your clock told her the chance of it being the latter, was starting to go down.

"If you don't get up, you're gonna lose the chance to have some tasty waffles." She says melodically as she leaned one hand on your bed. Her constant talking and gentle movements had you rousing from your sleep, and with the smallest step forward of getting you up, her concerns went lighter, but it was still there.

"...Did you get more messages?" She asked, her tone more serious now. You had a feeling if you didn't answer this time, she might just drag you all the way to the kitchen.

Kate knew about the countless messages from the brunette you once knew. The many times she's said to just block the contact were millions, but you didn't have it in you to lose the connection completely.

You roll over to lay on your back, your arms above your head as you blinked slowly, taking in a breath to come up with a reply. She waited patiently, although her eyebrows were furrowed.

"No, it's..." You trail off quietly with a sigh, your voice groggy from the morning. Kate pauses her thumb's movemensts on your shoulder, and you look at her more properly.

"I don't wanna get up." You go for a half lie. Kate thinks it over. Technically, if she needed to, she could bring a plate to you as you sat in bed, but that would only encourage you to stay in bed further on.

She also didn't want to force anything out of you, so she treaded carefully, but it didn't stop her from her determination to at least pull you out of this thing you entrapped yourself in. Even if its only been a few hours.

"Well, you're gonna have to. Unless you want me to carry you to sit at the dining table." She said plainly, but you didn't budge. The thought to even move slightly felt like a work on your energy.

Kate then slowly took steps backwards, getting farther away from you, and instead closer to the door. "Okay, I'm gonna have waffles without you! The sweet, soft, and crunchy ones that basically melt in your mouth!" She said, slowly turning around.

You shouldn't stay in bed.

And you decided you wouldn't.

"No, wait!" Your voice finally comes out slightly higher in volume than the barely audible one, but with a soft tone.

Kate turns around and raises an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. You, on the other hand, pouted.

"...Don't finish without me." You whispered now, and Kate just about heard it, but it still had her smile widening. Her eyes watch you deflate on the bed before you push yourself up with your hands and slowly getting out of bed.

She walks to the kitchen with you following behind her, your fatigue visible within your movements. You hear Lucky's collar clinking gently that came with the brush of his body spinning around your legs.

Kate already had the meals ready, her hands only holding the drinks to place on the dining table. Your hand met Lucky's head for a moment before you join Kate at the table, looking to see what she had.

The plates held waffles with some fruits on the side. At the mere sight, your stomach was already grumbling.

You took your seat, getting comfortable. The plastic chair didn't help much with the ache in your body from sleeping in bed for too long, but the atmosphere of how the sunlight was gently going through the windows while the birds outside made shadows put up a peaceful feeling.

"Here," she hands you a fork, and you took it, about to dig in your meal, but your eyes brightened when you realize she had gotten another fork than only keeping a single one at her apartment, your head turning to look at her.

"Yeah, I got another fork, all your problems are solved now, I know." She said playfully, lightly nudging your shoulder. You giggle, starting on your waffle.

The breakfast-- Or brunch, as it was afternoon, goes smoothly with comforting quietness. You were finishing the last bite of your toast as you had your cheek rested on your other hand, your elbow on the table.

Kate turns off her phone, setting it aside to put her focus on you. She leaned closer to the dining table, looking at you closely.

"Are you sure you've been okay?" She asked gently, scraping the last of her waffle and putting it in her mouth, pulling you out of your spaced out state.

You nod, taking in a breath before responding. "Yeah, it's just a lot on my mind." The words came out like a breath, your eyes fixed on the table as you think it over.

"Well, it won't hurt to share. Come on." She folds her arms, pushing her empty plate forward gently as she waited for you to continue.

The crows ledged on another building within the view of the window cawed, and you stared at it, trying to come up with words while you did so.

"I...met someone," you said quietly, your eyes slowly meeting hers. You decided to give her the more positive news first, not wanting to mention the CDs you found just yet. Kate raises an eyebrow, curious as to it being someone new, or someone the two of you knew.

"Who?" She asked, eager due to your face lightly coming with a reddish tint. If she didn't focus much on your face for the sake of the conversation, she would've thought it was the sunlight.

"She was the person I bumped into when I was on a walk with Lucky...and at the airport," you said slowly and quietly, analyzing the look on Kate's face to then flick your gaze away. She stayed silent as she listened on to you, her mind searching for anything especially significant.

"Her name is Nat. She's...nice..." You shrugged, trying to play it cool as Kate slowly smiled. If you didn't look away, you might've thought to have to comment she looked like the cheshire cat from alice in the wonderland.

Not wanting to share much more with her, knowing she might get too excited, you only said, "And she's cool." You then purse your lips, your eyes going down to your plate.

"Cool? Just cool?" A smug grin replaced the smile growing on her face, but she didn't push further, already satisfied that you were still somewhat open to other people.

"Well, if that's all you're going to say, okay, but I need to know more later." She tilted her head, playing around with her fork and pushing the bit of syrup on her plate.

You nibble on your lips, thinking if you should give her the information you found out earlier, but you also wouldn't want to see it every times you opened the closet.

"I also found a box from Wanda's house I accidentally brought," you started, nearly not wanting to say it as Kate's eyes flickered to you, her form perking up slightly to sit properly. Your eyes flashed a moment of pain at the mention of her name, but it faded away.

"A box?" Her face scrunches up in confusion, trying to remember the day she helped you grab your things out from the car. There was a single box she remembered picking up, but she was unsure if it was the one you were talking about.

She inhales gently, and when you didn't continue, she asked. "What'd it have?" Her face held concern, preparing herself for whatever could be coming next.

"CDs. They're custom...I don't know what to do with them." You let out a gently, and quiet sigh. That mostly explains why you've been in bed for so long. Kate placed her fork back down, looking at you.

"Well, if you don't want them, we can sell them." She suggested with a gesture of her hand, trying to help you get rid of them.

"Or, if they have good songs, give some to me." She said plainly with a shrug, a small smile on her face. You laugh softly, and she thanked everything that you were at least somewhat fine...for now.

"Yeah, it's a good idea. And...I don't know about you holding my ex's old CDs." You narrowed your eyes, to which Kate's eyes widens.

"I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to!" She shook her head and moved her hands back and forth, adding to her expression, and you only giggled.

"I'm kidding, you can have some, but just don't play it in front of me." Kate's face and posture relaxes, and a smile wasbon your face as you pushed your chair back and grabbed your plate, going to the kitchen to place it in the sink.

She followed behind you, doing the dishes with you. The rest of the day went by peacefully, laughs shared as the two of you taught Lucky some new tricks.

You've also put up the CDs in a store somewhere with Kate's help, some of them lended to her when she found some of her favorites.

Then days, weeks, turn into months later, filled with small teary nights, movie nights with ice cream, meetups with...the redhead here and there, and your world slowly brightening.

As of late, your mind couldn't help but drift back to the redhead, the memories shared with her that was somehow growing rather than stopping at all.

In a cafe, the two of you sat, enjoying each other's company as the smell of coffee and baked sweets filled the air. You can see her glancing over every now and then, taking in the sight of your profile.

Oftentimes you would end up accidentally looking into her eyes a little too long within the car, and the both of you catch it, but you never took it too far than that, or even perceived it as actual feelings.

At the beach, a lake. She had the same color of eyes as her, her eyes luminescent from the glowing sun. But hers...hers are different. They hold a greener look with a tinge more brown at the iris, and oh, so soft.

The night was quiet other than the tapping of the water somewhere in the bathroom and the humming of the AC. You didn't feel a sense of sleepiness. Really, you just wanted to stare at the darkness.

The comforter around you kept you warm, and the position you were in was as comfortable as you could get. You tried putting your hand out to the edge of the bed, letting it rest hung over the side...you probably shouldn't do that.

As you realize you were too close to the edge, you exhaled slowly and pulled your hand closer to your body once more, moving yourself to the middle of the bed.

Your eyes stare at your phone, the screen facing down.

You shouldn't.

But you picked it up anyway.

Your fingers found the messages to Nat, your eyes seeing the old messages as you searched your thoughts for some words.

Are you still up?

You sent the message with a bite on your lower lip, leaving a mark. Thinking you shouldn't have sent a message so late in the night, you gripped your phone tighter and decide to leave it on the bedside table, nearly regretting disturbing her.

But then your phone lights up on the nightstand beside you, and your eyes widen in surprise, quickly going to grab it.

Yeah. Why?

I can't sleep, and I'm bored :(

Well, I have good news for you.

good news?

Are you free tomorrow?

I think so

Do you wanna go to an aquarium with me? :)

Your eyes blinked at the screen for a moment, trying to make sense if your sleepiness invaded your brain and you imagined it or if it was actually real.

Then, after a few seconds of registering it and deciding, you quickly type your response, a smile on your face.

YES?!?

Now, go to sleep.

okay, okay

you too.

Now, you almost couldn't sleep at all, your last drops of energy fueled by the excitement for tomorrow.

But it soon dies down, and with no warning as you close your eyes once more, you fell asleep easily. The room was quiet, and if you were still conscious, you'd notice it would only be white noise and your gentle breathing.

You slept peacefully, Kate doing the same in the other room with Lucky. The room grew in coldness with the night, causing you to curl within your sleep. Slowly, the moon fades away and the sun starts to rise.

The stir of your body and waking up was fatigued and hazy, a big yawn coming from you as you rolled on your back. You stared at the ceiling for a moment before your eyes widen with a realization dawning on you, the memory of last night reminding you of the aquarium.

You jump slightly to a sitting position, and then regret it at the fast pace, making you dizzy. You absolutely did not let the blood in your brain flow back naturally.

After gently shaking off the daze and letting it fade away with a couple of blinks, you sit for a few seconds before now slowly moving to get out of bed.

You followed your morning routine, showering and everything, but this time with excitement filled in your veins. You forgot you even struggled to sleep last night. Some messages were exchanged with the redhead for the plan of how you'll get to the aquarium, and you agreed on her picking you up.

Kate was already out the house, having told you the day before that she was visiting a friend and possibly even doing a sleepover. She did invite you, but you weren't interested.

As you start to put on your shoes, your phone dings, and your hand goes to grab it, turning it over so the screen was visible. The notification shows a message from Nat.

Hey, I'm in front of the apartment.

Your eyes widen and you finish up quickly, standing up to open the door. The light outside hits you, making your eyes squint, but it spots the black car pulled up near the side of the road when you went out the apartment.

You wave at her, and the corner of her lip raises up as she rolls the window down, sliding her sunglasses down to look at you more clearer.

"You ready to go?" She nodded towards you and you mirror her movement, being more than ready to go to the aquarium.

Nat's eyes look over your appearance for a moment. She was about to close the window but then remembered to ask, "And you got everything?" Her head turned to look at you more.

"Yup." You nodded once more as you went to round the car from the front and sit in the passenger seat. She had closed the window back up now, glancing at you to make sure you had your seatbelt on.

"Seatbelt," she murmured, putting the car in drive. You smiled and grabbed the seatbelt, clicking it in for your safety.

Her eyes focus back on the road once she saw you safe and comfortable in the seat, her hands firmly on the steering wheel as she made her way through traffic and turns on the road to get to the destination.

The drive was quiet, filled with gentle music. You can see the sunlight casting the warmest glow over everything in the car, including her striking orange hair that honestly only seemed soft now.

When you arrived, she opened the door for you right as your fingertips barely even brushed against the car door handle.

Getting in was easy, the line not being awfully long seeing as it's not their busiest day of the week. They gave free packets of yogurts to each ticket holder, but you already had yours open, while Nat was saving it for later.

Her hand held a camera, and you noticed it in the corner of your vision, your lips tugging up as you realize she was reviving the old hobby she had. She took pictures and videos of the sea animals, while also sneaking in some memories of you.

You start walking through the big spaces. In the corner of the room, held a big map of the entire aquarium, from sea animals that live in the colder regions, a shark zone, the exotic section, and the small fishes.

There was an ongoing show of the otters, the staff member in the enclosure feeding them fishes and having them do tricks as they excitedly move to snatch their food or swim in the water.

They talk about facts of the otters through the segment, making many other kids and people in the room beside the two of you captured in the moment.

After that was done, you were headed to the more colder region first, seals sitting on the right side while on the left held bunches of adorable penguins.

Nat smiled gently at you, her eyes all focused on your beaming face instead of the penguins.

"Nat, look!" You gently shook her shoulders, making her turn her attention to the penguins more properly, her eyes watching as they jumped and swam, while others waddled.

"Yeah, they're adorable." Just like you. That's what she wanted to say. Just like you, the penguins were adorable. But she only chuckled softly as you gently leaned into her from the side.

The footsteps and sounds of talking echoed through each hall and room with the gentle sound of some water going down a made up waterfall.

You gasped as you saw the sharks, swimming around gracefully. They were swift with their tails moving back and forth gently.

Black tip reef sharks, nurse sharks, lemon sharks...it held most of the more known ones, but nonetheless, you were more than happy to see them.

Nat kept you close, maybe even a little protectively as you both looked through the shark zone, watching as some of them circle around in their tanks until you make it to the end of the area.

"Whoa..." You slowly walked over to the stingrays, where you can watch them from above. At least, the small baby stingrays. The bigger ones were on the sides, accompanied with some turtles.

Nat was also admiring them, seeing how the stingrays moved across the floor and slid on the rocks. Some were even camouflaged within the sand, while others hid within plantation.

You were now in the more exotic section, and Nat had to hold back a laugh when she sees you getting scared at the sight of a huge japanese crab, although she was smiling, she also would not want it near her either.

The neon lights inquired with each animal of their color, the jellyfish being a pinkish purple as it majestically floated around in the dim lighting. It was aglowed, within a circle tank.

Sometime in the big trip of exploring the aquarium, you and Nat went to the diner that was marked on the map, grabbing something to eat and drink so you wouldn't get tired.

Afterwards, your journey continues, and Nat had to change her camera's battery to her backup one, thankfully having remembered to bring it.

You were seeing the smaller tanks now, seahorses, baby crabs, shrimps and starfishes on the entire wall. Each held their names and types, giving facts of what exactly they are.

"That one looks like you." You point at a orange starfish, sitting on the rocks. It nearly seemed like it was hiding. She was expecting a cool looking fish or a shrimp, but when she follows where you were looking and your pointed finger, she gasped and lightly slapped your shoulder.

"No, it does not!" She exclaims, staring at you. You giggled, finding her reaction to be amusing.

"The hair, come on." You gestured towards the orange starfish then to her, your eyebrows raising in question for her agreement, while hers raised in a challenge.

"Just 'cause it's orange?" Her voice was nearly more higher pitched, but her face was scrunched up in utter disbelief.

The moment passes by lightly with a few more laughs and distractions of the other fishes showing off their unique colors.

You pass by some eels too, octopuses, and a giant gar that shocked you. You followed it while its long body swam forward, and Nat shook her head gently.

Soon enough, you reach to the end of the aquarium, the end of the journey a little bit saddening, but the amount of things the place held was satisfying. Nat had just the right amount of batteries for the entire trip, too.

There was a souvenir shop at the end, as always. Within it had keychains, plushies, and some snacks available to take home. You had to run your finger through some of the plushies. They seemed to fluffy and soft not to touch.

Nat had bought you a keychain of a mini plush orca, and your heart melted at her memory of remembering your first proper meetup.

Outside, the sky was orange, the clouds dissolving as the both of you made your way back to her car. You had really been in there for that long?

Nat gets in the car with you, setting her camera safely in the center console. Your eyes follow her movement, and you went to reach for it.

"No," she gently pushes your hand away while at the same time, wearing her seatbelt, and you pull your hand back to your body with a pout.

"You'll be able to go through it later." Her lips ghosted the smallest hint of a smile, and you tilt your head in curiosity, but you didn't question it as she started driving. Maybe her battery had died entirely? But you had seen her turn it off earlier with some energy still left.

After minutes upon minutes of staring out the window, watching the skies fade deeper into darkness, the car soon arrives to Kate's apartment once more.

You stood in front of the door as Nat waited for you, making sure your surroundings were safe so she knew you went inside intact.

"Ah..." You sighed gently as you look through your pockets, trying to find the house keys. Nat curiously looked to you, her expression growing with concern.

"I...forgot to bring my keys." The words were said quietly as you turned back to her. She had made sure you had everything before the two of you went too, but none of her face had any judgement.

"You don't hide a spare one anywhere?" She asked gently, looking towards the carpet in front of the door or any other places that could have the key. You purse your lips, putting your hands in the pockets.

"My keys are the spare keys." Your shoulders go down in defeat, now your mind definitely remembering how empty your pockets felt aside from your phone.

Nat paused and stepped back in front of you, her quietness being in thought while her eyebrows furrowed.

"Well...isn't Kate home?" She knew it was a low chance with how you had not reached for your phone at all, and the apartment being dark.

"No, she's at a friend's..." You shook your head, biting your bottom lip gently as you stared off at her car with the engine on behind her.

"...Do you want to hang out at my place until we can grab the keys or when she comes back?" She asks nearly hesitantly, yet in very high hopes that you'll accept, especially not wanting you to be alone or anything.

"Uh...well, I mean..." You stutter slightly for a moment, your eyes meeting hers as you thought over. A gentle cold breeze flowed against your body from the night air, causing you to shiver.

Then, you took a breath in, "I don't really have any other choice, so, if it's okay with you, yeah." Nat's eyes soften and she nods, turning to her car once more, making sure you were following behind her.

The car doors close with a gentle shut, and you settle down in the seat once more, getting comfortable as you didn't know where or how far her place was.

She turns down the AC, having noticed your shivers, and also turned up the gentle music so it wasn't entirely silent.

Your eyes grew heavy though anyway as you rested your head against the backrest, and the streetlights that passed by was starting to blur and fade into what was bothering, to now something that lured you to sleep.

The red light makes her stop the car for a moment. When she looked over to you, her eyebrows raise, but she wasn't surprised.

She gazed at your sleeping form, her eyes trailing over every feature your face held. The red light and the streetlights even added on to your face.

She shouldn't stare. Especially not when you were asleep. What if you had woken up? When the light turns green, she continues driving, shifting in her seat slightly to gather herself together.

It wasn't actually much of a long drive, only 20 minutes or so until she arrived to her place. Nat unclicks her seatbelt and took a deep breath, looking over to you once more.

She doesn't want to pick you up or anything, knowing all too well it might just be too out of your comfort zone together. Instead, she goes to reach her hand out and gently shake your shoulder.

"Hey," she whispered softly, making you slowly stir in your sleep before waking up, a small noise coming from you. You look at her in a haze of sleep, and she smiled softly.

"We're here," she unclicks your seatbelt for you before turning down the music so it didn't bother you, but being patient for your response.

"Sorry I fell asleep." You whispered, your voice quiet and husky from your rest. She shook her head, dismissing your apology as she turns off the car.

"It's fine. You were tired." She said gently with a reassuring look before opening her car door and going out to get your door for you.

When she did, she also helped you out, not wanting you to trip or anything within your sleepiness. With you out, the car door closes.

You yawned softly and closed it with your hand while Nat grabbed her keys out from her pockets.

The lamppost's light illuminated your faces, the streetsign just barely even showing 'Sixth Avenue'.

"You know, you do really look like that starfish." You said quietly, blinking away sleep as you took in the streets of her place, to then your eyes landing back to her.

"Nope." She said softly with a gentle pop of her lips and a shake of her head, going through her keys to find the one for her apartment.

"Mmhm." You hummed and nodded, urging her to agree whilst you took some steps and leaned forward. She leaned back slightly, but paused her movements.

Her hand then falls, the keys falling back all over on the keyring but still between her fingers. She turns to you, her eyes searching your face.

She takes a deep breath, "Well, I think we can both agree on one thing." She said in a whisper, but even if she spoke in a low volume, the quiet area had your voices being audible. Even the noise of the gentle wind or a loose poster hitting something being hearable.

Your eyebrows raise in question for her to continue. You stood up more properly with your brain fully waking up, but now you saw how close you were.

"That our eyes see the same thing." She said, taking a step forward. Your breaths could be seen from the cold air, and you felt her warmth, making your cheeks flush just slightly.

"...And that is?" your words were quiet under your breath, almost not even audible as you gazed at her with your heartrate going fast as if you were in a high speed chase.

Her eyebrows furrow as she searches a word in her mind for an answer to the feelings swirling in her. She found a simple, obvious one, but pushed the word away.

She decides on "...Something," As her lips were just a whisper away from yours. You shouldn't lean in closer...it was too soon. But why shouldn't you anyway?

end of chapter 9. <3

Series Masterlist <- Chapter 8 Chapter 10 ->

------------------

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[sunshinegirl29]

Postcards - Chapter 1.

Hi! This fic has been pottering around in my brain for months, I've planned and unplanned and written and deleted, but here it is!

It's my first dabble into writing so constructive criticism and such really welcomed. I'm also open to requests if you like my writing. I write for Spencer Reid, Eddie Munson and Joel Miller.

It's Spencer x Reader, 18+ eventually, slow burn - eventual warnings for abuse, SA and general criminal minds related triggers. updates will be bi monthly.

Chapter 1 – Growing Pains.

You study the form while you wait, leg bouncing against the sticky underside of the table.  No matter the outcome, this has to be over.  The shaking letter is factual and to the point.  A long sigh. You place the envelope back on the desk, before reaching over the files to roll the rich blue fountain pen between your fingers. 

A door clicks, finally.  The familiar heavy tread of Sherrif Miller; “Hello again” he huffs, clutches the ridged back of his office chair and sits down.  You notice his metal foot drags more these days, after all this time he’s never told you how it happened and you don’t ask.  You don’t look up from the broken skin on the corner of your fingers, though you know he’ll be wearing the same sullen frown, his exasperation unhidden. You wonder if he thinks you’re making it up.

“My statement. Is that all you need?” You sigh, looking him in the eye. He shifts uncomfortably under your gaze, blanching slightly.  He doesn’t respect you, typical older generation male, feels out of control in his life and within his team so he dismisses you.  A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth and Miller stands, leg creaking as he rises quicker than you thought he would at his age.

“Yes, that’s all. I’ll leave it with the rest—” You were going to protest, for the third time this month but it falls flat with the rest of Millers’ sentence.

“Hi there, I’m sad we have to meet again under these circumstances.”  You step from foot to foot, wiping both hands on your jeans.  Mason Cook is classically handsome, dark hair and light eyes; he’s the type of man who’s charming, but brooding at the same time.  From the amount of time you’ve spent at this station, you’ve seen plenty of his female colleagues fall over themselves to impress him, frankly it’s quite embarrassing but you can see the appeal.

“It’s okay Mason, Miller here was just telling me how you’re all going to put your time and resources into finding this weirdo. Right Miller?” 

You hear the scrawling of Miller’s pen stop, you definitely hit a nerve.  Mason watches as usual, he knows you’re enjoying bating his useless boss and wipes a large hand over his beard to cover his own tilted grin.

“That’s enough.” He snaps, “Cook, don’t you have work to do? We have weirdo to find and you’re my resource.”    You nod.  A subtle glance at your watch; 7:15am, you were late.

_

“Second day on the job and you’re already late?”

SSA Derek Morgan croons when he talks. He can’t help it.  It’s lead plenty of women straight to bed but right now it reminds you that a useless errand to the Sherrif’s office made you late for the most important job you’ve landed in years.

“Bite me Morgan” His laugh fades as you rush past, dipping into the roundtable room.

No one’s here.   This must be what hazing feels like?

You understand men like Morgan, women usually fall into three categories; two separate categories that had their own rules.  The first box was untouchable. These women were untouchable in every sense of the word. They usually either belonged to someone else, or meant something to him.   Garcia fell into that category, you’d deduced – they’d shamelessly flirt and are the only reason BAU’s HR department were in business.  She would always reside in the Untouchable box, regardless of how much Penelope wanted out of that particular category.  Jennifer Jaureu also belonged in that box, but in a different way.  She was Will’s – it started and ended there.  He had eyes of course; she was attractive but he loved her like family.  Then there was Elle.  She had started out in the fuckable box, but getting shot and killing Lee had shifted her into the untouchable box pretty quickly after that.  He’d dated enough women to know to stay away from that kind of trauma, besides he’d loved her like family too.  

Then there’d been you.  After months of training together, you were quite sure you now hovered between the fuckable and untouchable box.  There was something powerfully arousing knowing that the person that had your life in their hands daily, could take it instantly.  If he knew, you’d be banished to the untouchable box instantly.  

Anyway, you let him have his win. 

“You told me it was urgent. You lie!” It spurts out in a laugh, breaking the silence.

“Sorry babydoll! I’m just messin’ with you! Welcome to the team!” he pats you on the back and helps pick up the files and folders that your whirlwind entrance scattered around the small room.

You settle down in a chair opposite the door, a strategic position; able to see for potential threats and a planned exit route for any emergencies. Perfect.   It’s not long before Agent Rossi takes a seat beside you.  He gives a short good morning and a reassuring pat on the shoulder in support of your second real day on the job – it goes a long way in settling simmering nerves.

Morgan sits down, a ghost of a smirk still on his lips as he sips a third cup of steaming coffee.  He tries to hide it but you’re trained to observe, not being able to miss the roving way his eyes study you across the table.  It’s insane how an expert profiler doesn’t realise you see right through it, but maybe, you smirk back, he does and just doesn’t care?  

Garcia totters in, bright and giddy, the breath of fresh air in the stifling room.  She’s passing cups of coffee in ludicrous mugs to each person when JJ and Aaron file in together; their presence hushes the deep conversation you’re having with Rossi, leaving the intricate details of Bobby Fisher’s chess strategy dead in the water.  

“Okay, Good Morning, let’s get started.” He looks determinedly everywhere but you. JJ interrupts your thoughts with a manilla folder. 

“Three girls have gone missing and been later found murdered over the last 6 months in a semi-rural area of Georgia.”  Your heart lurches, desperate to free itself from your chest.  You take a few deep breaths, calming it into submission.   “Alison Sinclar, Cassidy Williams and Joslyn Cooper were all in their late teens to early twenties when they each went missing.”  JJ pauses, allowing Garcia to pull up pictures of each girl in a row. 

“Allison Sinclar a Senior at Georgia High School had Spring Break with her family in Senoia Georgia. She disappeared after leaving a house party at a friend’s and never returned.  She’d been strangled and posed.  She was found on the edge of farmland a few days later.” JJ blanches at the crime scene photos, turning quickly to hand out some physical copies to an empty chair.

 “Oh my! How are you all not in so much therapy?!” Garcia holds a cherry octopus’ mug in her field of vision, shielding from the unnecessarily gruesome death.

“Any evidence of sexual assault?” Emily asks. 

“Yes, extensively.” JJ nods, her voice unwavering.

Allison was someone’s child, but to this killer she had been nothing but a means to an end, a way to get off and dispose in favour of the next prize.  

The board flickered, to Garcia’s irritation and you take the time to observe the rest of the group;

  Emily Prentiss was no longer the new kid on the team, she’d taken you under her wing in the weeks leading up to your first day and you’d taken to texting her a few times a week for late night advice and tips to assimilate.  She’d been helpful but somewhat reserved in giving any personal details about herself; smart girl.  Morgan was debating the Sexual Predator angle with Aaron, who still wasn’t looking at you.  Then there was the case of the strange empty chair.

“There!” Penelope chimes “You can bow to the technical Goddess!” 

“Cassidy Williams.” Hotch cuts her off with the smallest hint of joviality “Cassidy was seventeen, she had been in and out of foster homes, in Georgia.  She was found in a wooded area on the edge of town, also strangled and posed like Allison”    

This one was a carbon copy of the first.  Her body wilted over at the waist, manipulated into a vulgar position.  A strange sensation washed over you, leaving you shivering uncomfortably.

This was enough for Garcia.  She stood abruptly, coffee splashing onto the files in the additional space at the table.  “No. Nope. I’ll be in my bat-cave if you need me.  God, I need my therapist on speed dial!!” 

Aaron nods, giving her arm a small squeeze before she leaves.  He’s never done that to you. It evokes an unpleasant sensation in your gut. 

This time he looks at you it’s short lived, if you weren’t paying attention you’d have missed it.  But he knows better. 

“Joslyn Cooper, twenty-two and the most recent death.  Hers prompted the Georgia Police Department to request our assistance on the case.  She was” JJ takes a visible breath, “Also posed but her heart was removed.” 

“Oh my god.” Whistled Rossi even a seasoned agent like him wasn’t immune to this particular horror. 

A chorus of disgust rippled around the room, it starts a debate about the significance of the heart in mythology and religion but you could only focus on the posing, something about it seemed vaguely familiar.

“Hey Sugar? Are you okay?” Morgan’s wave came into focus and you shake your head involuntarily.  It looked like he was enjoying your distraction, the toothy grin snuck onto his face and you replied in kind.

“Yeah.” You scoff, “It’s a rough one for the first case.” You placate him with the ghost of the truth and run your fingers jokingly over the sparse hair on his head on your way out the door.

A sudden motion stops you.  A flicker of movement that turns into a touch of your arm, it guides you discreetly away from your colleagues who grab go bags with muscle memory.  You’re very familiar with the huffing breath and deep frown of Aaron Hotchner.

“Aaron, don’t do this.” You say slowly and wish this wasn’t going to turn into a passive aggressive lecture.

“They don’t know.” Aaron said and you watch his chin tilt. He looks over you with a serious gaze that sits comfortably on his brow.  The one that Hayley always talked about.

It was horrifying how little they knew.  He was their boss and they knew nothing about him. It felt like a slap in the face, another reminder of how insignificant you were – or maybe it was a classic reflection of how you felt about yourself, deep down. 

“You don’t have to tell me how much they don’t know Aaron.” From your position on a spare desk in a shadowed corner of the Bullpen you scowl up at him, “They didn’t even bat an eyelid, not even Garica who has all your files!?”

Aaron breathes heavily, tongue moistening his cracked lips.  “There’s aspects of my life I want to keep private.”  It’s flat and unemotional, as you expect. “The anonymity will help you here and it keeps you safe.”   You muse for a second, chewing on his words – they’re sour and shame tinged but the faint sweetness of comfort lingers on your tongue.

“Safe.” It comes out harsher than it needed to be and you can see his regret fade back into the comfortable frown you’re so accustomed to.

Aaron sighs, grabs a briefcase from the desk and turns his back to you.

“Let’s get going. Wheels up in 30.”

Greetings from Sharpsburg!

12.06.02    

Hi you!

  I know we live three towns over and I could just pick up the phone, but this is a romantic notion I picked up from that raunchy book I found in Mama’s dresser!  Hopefully Miss Cain will let you come here tomorrow; Daddy’s going to pick up my uncle Kellen from the airport but after you should come for dinner.  I hope Mr Hartman will get this to you before then.

Love, Elizabeth.

A violent breeze calls you back, you’re not sure what happened on the drive to the airstrip but vaguely remember Jennifer’s mouth moving and something about meeting another member of the team on the plane. 

“Why do I only get to travel with you guys once or twice a year?”  Penelope gasps, hurriedly shuffling past you.  She smiles eagerly at a man you don’t recognise; he passes her a coffee in a hot pink mug that she takes gratefully. 

“Oh!” Garcia backpaddles, hands in the air.  You know she doesn’t mean any harm, but instinctually step backwards.  The cool silver of your watch clamps painfully against your wrist where she grabs it, leading you towards him.  Penelope introduces you and moves off to sit by Derek; they smile at each other like scheming children.

He’s tall and gawky, obviously flustered by the change in staffing, his previously relaxed demeanour shifts into awkward, a tight smile.

“Dr Spencer Reid nice to meet you.”  You reply in kind, glad he doesn’t extend a hand. 

You study him while he excuses himself and strides over, settling in opposite Rossi.  Dr Reid is the type of man that goes home alone to vintage first addition books, and the sound of a dripping tap he’s not there enough to be bothered to fix.  His day specific shirts are neatly folded into certain drawers, where his real wool coats hang in seasonal order.  Jennifer had mentioned his eidetic memory, which might be the least interesting thing about him.  He’s older than you, by several years at least, but still baby faced enough that the cops on cases don’t take him as seriously as the others despite his title.

“Okay, let’s get started.”  Aaron gestures and you sit down.

“All three girls have similar victimology, features and body types. He’s definitely got a type.” Your sentence trails off in a sigh without obvious reason and you’re suddenly aware of the faint hum of the jet, the only sound.  “They could be a surrogate for someone in his life, past or present someone who’d wronged him in some perceived way?”  You continue, ignoring the awkward feeling settling in your gut. 

“Yeah, looks like it but what’s with the posing?” Emily hums, looking over the photos one by one.  She doesn’t seem to flinch at the brutality of the crimes, but you can’t judge her.

“It’s interesting, the posing.” Reid states, flicking back and forth over each photo. “It’s as if he’s humiliating them—” 

“It’s dehumanizing.” You accidently cut him off, blurting out your thoughts.

 Reid is the smartest person in the room and everyone knows it, the way his eyebrows shoot into his brown curls says all you need to know on his feelings about being interrupted.

“Sorry, go ahead.” You wince.

“The manner of death is personal, intimate.  They mean something to him, dehumanized after death, no remorse.”  Each word packs a punch, the slight condescending lilt makes your blood boil. 

A minute of oppressive silence follows, something tells you they all know Reid isn’t used to being spoken over.  It’s amusing really, but ruffling feathers on your second day on the job wasn’t how you wanted this to go, so you sigh in resignation and nod, accepting his deduction.

“There’s no discernible MO but according to the M.E Report all girls were extensively sexually assaulted and all in the same manner. Which could help.” Aaron notes, frowning again.

“The unsub crosses socioeconomic backgrounds; Allison Sinclar lived in a rural but wealthy area of Georgia, her father is a retired Georgia Police Sherrif and her mother an English Tutor.”  Derek gestures to the files in your lap. 

“Cassidy’s parents are in the wind?  She’d been bouncing in and out of foster homes for years before her death. If their backgrounds mean something to him, it means he’s had enough time and space to watch them.” It’s aggravating, the seemingly random way this unsub kills young girls, but that doesn’t explain why your hands shake and the pen slips from sweaty palms. 

  It’s like magic, the way he catches it with dextrous fingers. Spencer’s eyes flick to yours for a breath and he nods tightly once again, handing it back without a word.

“That’s true. Good work.” Aaron catches your eye and nods with a tenderness you’ve not seen from anyone since your mother died, the feeling that bubbles up forces your gaze back down.

“When we land, I want you and Reid to go to the medical examiner’s office.” If Aaron wanted you to start this job with confidence, he was definitely going the wrong way about it. You flash pleading eyes at Derek who surprisingly is already watching, or rather smirking at what must be a very distasteful expression.

  Aaron continues, oblivious or unphased; “Emily and I will go to lease with the family, Rossi and Morgan, I’d like you to go to the most recent crime scene. Garcia with JJ set up at the Station, Sherrif Anderson will meet you there.”

“Brace yourself.”

Before you can question Rossi’s order the jet tips, scattering chess pieces all over along with the last dredges of your abandoned coffee.

>

Greetings from Sharpsburg!

26/09/05

Hi you!

I know in my last letter, I said I’d give up this romantic notion!  But it’s just not me.  It’s been different around here the last few months.  Mama’s sick again and Daddy’s working more on the new barn and...

Anyway, I hope Miss Cain will let you come over again soon. I’ve been… 

Love, Elizabeth.

The medical examiner’s office is tucked away in the back of an archaic local hospital.  The instruments lay neatly, shining eerily in the clinical glow.  This part of the job was always the hardest; seeing people’s loved ones, naked on a freezing table just to be dissected and stored away.  It was irrational. You knew this was a very necessary part of the job to eventually catch the unsub and put the victims to rest, but how the two girls laid out like this was just undignified.

“I’m so sorry Agents, I just stepped out for some air.”

She’s not what you expect.  British. Two grey strips of hair frame her face, the rest sleek and brown poured down her back in a glossy ponytail.  She looks about four years your senior, a jagged scar dresses her milky white false left eye.  She carries on around the room, passes a manila folder to Reid and expertly dons a protective gown. 

“I’m Doctor Annabel Clayton.  My parents and I knew the first girl Alison and her parents. They had trouble conceiving so they adopted.” Clayton sighs, looking you in the eye.  A shiver runs down your spine again, making an unwelcomed home in your gut.

“Cause of Death?” Reid asks and you frown, unsure why he had to ask.  Maybe it was just obvious to you? 

“The main cause of death was strangulation.”

“Look at the bruising pattern.” The ever-well-mannered Dr Reid cuts in curiously, squinting at the bruising.  “He did it by hand.”  

“However.”  Dr Clayton slaps down the sheet, covering the young girl’s modesty.  She didn’t look like the type of woman who was used to being talked over in her own office.  “She has some internal bleeding that would have caused her death if he’d not chosen, well, the other.”  She looked sad in a wistful dreamy way, as if a ghost. A small-town purgatory. 

“The other, Cassidy.  She was also manually strangled and sexually assaulted in the same manner.”  Finger shaped bruises bloomed angrily on her grey thighs.  They give way to more, a trail of violence ending at her neck.  The uncharacteristic prickle of tears threatens but are obediently blinked back.

“They could be sisters...” You sigh, in fact you could all be sisters.

Clayton moves on to the last girl, her brooding expression darkening.

“For obvious reasons, I’ll be keeping this poor sweetheart covered from here.”  She strokes Joslyn’s hair.  “She’s still a young girl after all, she’d want to look her best.”

“This is the worst I’ve seen in my career, especially in this area.  Her cause of death wasn’t manual strangulation.” She quips and Reid strides to your side.  The accidental intimacy of it makes your breath catch.  He smells homely, the warming aroma of old books and black coffee, you can’t help but lean into it.  

“Do you want me to carry on?”  That’ll do it. Clayton’s British lilt is like ice water, it’s embarrassing.  You’re leaning into a man you barely know and are frankly not sure you even like?

“Of course, sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”  You stammer, stepping toward the teen girls ghostly face and chest. 

“She was found posed, like Cassidy.  She was leant over a tree stump with the rope around her neck. It was hung from a tree.” 

The picture she passes around is from a distance.  The rope is tied to a gnarled tree, snaking down to bind her wrists, the other hooked over her head and knotted to a taller branch.

“The unsub must be at least six foot to attempt this alone.  Unless they have a partner.” The possibility is frightening, one unsub is hard enough but two?  Say goodbye to sleep for the next few weeks.  

“Okay Agents. I need to get these girls back to their beds.”

You pause for a reply, but looking back catch Reid rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand, as if shielding them from the overly bright strip light.

“You okay there?” 

His jaw is tight, your eyes linger on the way the action accentuates the sharp corner.

“Just a headache. Let’s go.”

> 

The familiar stickiness of the Georgian heat prickles at your back dampening the linen of your shirt, it sticks to your forearms as you roll up the sleeves.  Being back here felt much like the oppressive midday sun, inescapable and suffocating. 

“How was the ME?”  Emily asks, but Reid strides past you toward a waiting Rossi.  She frowns as they disappear into the precinct together, talking animatedly about something you can’t quite hear.

“She’s interesting for sure.” You breathe, skilfully ignoring the vibration from your cell in the back pocket of your pants.

The precinct was mayhem bustling with cops that looked a little too old to be in the field but hated their wives and children too much to retire just yet.  They scramble to sit in rickety office chairs as Aaron and Rossi start to present, you wonder if they’d take your suggestions on board.

As Aaron starts to give a preliminary profile you hear words like previous history of abuse, 18 to 25, local, abandonment issues and surrogate, but you can focus on nothing but the manic buzzing of your phone again.  You’ve changed the number three times in the last 9 months and every time this son of a bitch still manages to find it. You’re seriously debating asking Garcia for help but then reconsider, it’s for the best, keeping them at an arms-length.

As the officers begin to buzz around you, taking calls from the tip line and preparing to interview locals you discreetly slip your cell out and glance at the seven new messages illuminating the screen.

12:24pm – Mason Cook.

Hey bug,

Miller said they’ve had no luck tracing the calls you’ve been having, sorry. I did try. Also, the girl from the coffee shop didn’t recognise the sketch.  I know I keep saying, but I’m sorry. Hope you’re back soon, I’ll leave the key in the normal place.

12:45pm – Unknown

I told you. I’m not going anywhere. It’s about time you paid for taking it all away from me.

[katyahina]

The most common Bloodborne fanart mistakes

We all approach fanart differently! Most people draw characters simple and get the point across, with any alteration being down to art-style. Some people willingly take artistic liberties based on their preferences. And some people try to be very accurate to the canon, to the point where they feel sad upon finding out that they've been unaware of something (like me and all three of my fans fsjfhjds). The latter is often caused by both lacking spread of good references and artists using fanart of other people for the reference rather than the source material. If you also belong to this category of fanartists with me, here are some of the most common fanart pitfalls to avoid!

Lady Maria's eye colour: It is a somewhat frequent mistake to draw her eyes blue! In reality, her eyes are very pale green, even a little desaturated, so, greyish-green:

Henryk's skin colour: In the game, it is hard to know unless you deliberately zoom in his face, and even then it might be accidentally blamed on the lighting! I especially see this mistake in Eastern fanart. Thanks to a dataminer Zullie the Witch though, we can know for sure that he is brown:

(Here ( x ) is the page with all sliders)

Little girl's ribbon: Most drawings depict this one as simply... well, white ribbon. It can be tied around a braid, a ponytail, or simply rest on whatever other hairstyle. But in the game both the icon and the way it is worn by Messengers features a layer of frills:

Only one daughter: Gascoigne and Viola have two daughters: one, younger, is the little girl that used to wear the white ribbon which we never see, and another, older, is the one we can talk with later and see dead.

She is not an obvious encounter, and it certainly doesn't help that her little sister doesn't mention her! There are many fanarts that only depict just the little girl whereas the intention is to depict the whole family, and some even use this older sister's design for her, though, as a result! Two of them existing is also confirmed by the voice credits:

Micolash's hair: This is probably the most obvious case of people using existing fanart as a reference. His hair is purely black and somewhat messy, even curling somewhat!

But it is a common fanart thing to give him brown, 'pointy' hairstyle. I think it is sorta 50/50 though because black hair is hard to work with in art, and sometimes 'brown' is just a way to have better colors in general! Lighter color is needed, and simply lessening it to 'dark grey' can just feel not so satisfying. It is an error usually if he is like.. idk, next to a character whose hair IS drawn as black, so there is an obvious comparison.

Adella's hair colour: She has a reverse problem! Commonly drawn with completely, no-shade, pure raven black hair, exactly what Micolash's hair is, when hers is simply dark brown:

Edgar's hair colour: A frequient one is depicting him as that 'yellow' type of blond, when in reality he is strawberry blonde (if not somewhat a redhead):

Yurie's hair and eyes colour: I've fallen for this one myself, and it took me some time to withdraw from, so it is better to just not do to begin with. However, it is simultaneously 'the most widespread mistake' and 'not a real mistake' since this character is bald; although her data states she is a blonde, only her (rather fluffy!) blonde eyebrows are observable. Her eyes are grey, like with plenty of the characters in Bloodborne!

Fanart of her almost exclusively depicts her with black hair and blue eyes, though. Again: technically she is bald, and colour of eyebrows might not match head colour, so the real error is only when artstyles that color eyebrows and eyelashes darken them!

+ Possibly this happens because her name is mistaken for Japanese name Yuri. This is not true: the existing name Yuri is written as ゆり or ユリ, whereas this character is named ユリエ. This little fucker エ at the end is not silent, and this is the key: she is yu-ri-YEE, not yu-REE! Also, ユリエ would be a Japanese spelling of the name Julie - Czech, French and Danish variant of the name Julia. I personally think this is most likely, since Yharnam is heavily inspired by Czechia!

Brador's beast hyde: It is hard to call a frequient, because fanart of these characters together is not frequient... xD But I've seen a few instances of Brador wearing his beast hyde while next to a Laurence who is still alive and a human. This is not possible, since Laurence was the first Cleric Beast, and the hyde Brador is wearing IS that of a Cleric Beast:

We can not know whether Brador killed Laurence or someone of the following clerics since Soulsborne hates clarity and Miyazaki drinks my tears and my tears alone jfhdfhsdhfdhs But we can conclude for sure that he only has this hyde after Laurence was killed. (Naturally, in some types of fanart, this doesn't count! For example, the 'everyone is here' types of fanarts or simple shitpost doodles do not have to be strict to the timeline! In fact, they should not be, lol)

"No-Beardor": Again, this is sensitive to the time context and intention: it counts when the intention is to depict his 'invader' state as it is during the game! Naturally, bro probably shaved more than once in his life fhhhdjss I think it is the fault of a particular "screenshot" of him going viral as a reference for him, when in reality his invader and jail state features a rather noticeable beard:

Gratia's clothes: Again, not a popular character to draw, but at some point a fanmade Wiki claimed that she is wearing Yharnam Hunter's set! This found the way in fanarts of her, when in reality, she is wearing an altered Old Hunter set, wearing a cap instead of a wide hat and missing the large flowing cape and her left glove:

Arianna's hair and eye colour: Her eyes are often drawn as either blue or brown, when it reality, it is, strangely..... purple? Meanwhile, there is a frequient fanart trend depicting Arianna with her alien baby in which her hair is still yellow, whereas in reality her hair loses colour after the event:

I've actually made the exact same error the one time I drew her with her kid :') This situation ties Arianna with another important character, Annalise, who used to be a redhead and has lost her hair colour in connection with her pregnancy, presumed aborted. I elaborated more here ( x ), but the point stands: this change is impossible to spot in the game with its dramatic fucking lighting dfdsfsgdfs It is something only really spotted through data analysis!

__________

I think that's the most frequient ones! There is really no problem in taking artistic liberties, but there is a category of artists that do not really want to and there are details that just can't be spotted in the game by normal means! And some errors can be painful to look at, like white blue-eyed blond Henryk fanart :pensive:.

In recent couple of years, we are being spoiled with awesome references thanks to dataminers and bloggers that spread the information! As for ER fans, they are actually having it easy since dataminers started to expose all the models right away whereas BB fans had a long 'dark era' xd But in general, Soulsborne games are built around the idea that no one will be able to beat the game alone; we all gotta communicate online through the notes other players have left! This mentality further travelled into understanding the story of these games by exchanging the information we've found.. And like, what I am trying to tell is that I am very happy that the same mentality of cooperating spreads on creativity as well! All the references here are the result of awesome dataminers hacking the game and being kind enough to share with the community! There are many more things such as model rips, internal filenames and super handy screenshots galleries that sometimes help to not only create a more accurate fanart, but also to even understand some extra lore! Yeah, like Arianna's hair hinting at a very important plot twist about Cainhurst. x) My point is!! communicating about what we have noticed with other fans is how these games existed and formed the coolest community, and fanart might be not different. What I shared here is just a really small portion of what can be used, and someone found this post useful, I am happy!

[w2beastars]

Beast Complex: The Deer and the Wolf

(Warning: This is a VERY self-indulgent fanfic, read at own risk)

He was a red deer at the beginning of his fifties. He had a slim build and fair face that made him look younger than he actually was. The square-framed pince-nez glasses he was wearing helped making him look like an animal of a certain age. He was dressed in a black suit, appropriate due to the funeral he had to host only four days ago.

The CEO of the Horns conglomerate tapped the table with a finger while feeling anxious. Louis was unsure if accepting the offer of a cup of coffee to catch up with her was such a good idea. They hadn't seen each other in years, and they didn't part on good terms. Or at least, not exactly good, but perhaps not bad either. But he had been so surprised to see her attend the cremating ceremony, he had probably not been thinking straight.

Louis took a glance around the coffee shop. Several animals had gathered here to chat. He saw a orange cat with a cell phone of a sort similar to the kind Louis had used when he was a teenager. Louis was glad that phones had made a comeback, he had never been thrilled about the lenses you could put into your eyes, it felt... wrong and intrusive. But perhaps new technology always felt threatening when you had reach a certain age.

Louis then spotted an empty table with a half-filled tea cup and an empty glass. There was a straw in the glass, the end of it had been chewed on.

It made the deer recall something. Something that made him blush.

"Louis."

Louis blinked and turned his attention toward a grey wolf with brown fur. She was dressed in a dark-blue blazer that was open, revealing a white shirt. Her fur was curly. She seemed like she was out of breath, as if she had been running, but she wore high heels.

Louis smiled, more out of a sense of being polite than actually being happy to see her. "Juno, it's good to see you again."

"I'm very sorry, there was a small crisis at the studio. One of the models had accused the tiger who took the photos of looking at her funny. I swear, bunny models are gonna be the death of me..." Juno took a seat at the other end of Louis' table. "Iced strawberry latte, please." She said to the hyena who worked as waiter in the café.

"I would like another coffee." Louis said. He looked at Juno. "So... you seem to be in good health."

"I am."

"Time sure flies by."

"Sure does."

"I should have tried to stay in touch-"

"We have both been busy." Juno said this despite knowing that was not the reason they hadn't talked in years.

There was an awkward pause. Neither the wolf or the deer knew what to say. But after they got their drinks, Juno decided to take the initiative. She recalled that she usually had to when it came to matters with Louis.

"I was not sure if showing up to the funeral was a good idea or not. The article said only family and close friends were invited-"

"I would say you belong in the second category."

Juno raised an eyebrow. "Do I?"

Louis shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned." He sighed and smiled awkwardly. "I appreciate that you came."

Juno took a big sip of her latte. "Your daughter sure didn't. She was rude."

"Only because she thought you were a nosey stranger. I'm surprised Marie didn't recognize you. She wears one of your dresses for parties."

Juno smirked. "Then your daughter has good taste."

Louis rolled his eyes and made a small laugh. "Well, aren't you modest..."

Juno did her best not to wag her tail, it was not proper for a wolf her age to do so in public. Then, she looked serious. "I'm very sorry. Well, for what happened to her. To Azuki."

Louis' face changed into a grave expression. "Well... that makes two of us." Louis sighed before placing his cup against his lips.

Juno emptied her cup. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if what she was about to ask was too intrusive. But she had to know. "Did you... love your wife?"

Louis blinked. He coughed, almost spitting out the coffee. He had forgotten how direct this wolf could be. Juno looked at Louis, waiting for an answer. Louis decided to clean his classes to win some time.

"Well..." Louis cleared his throat. "I should just answer yes, that would be the appropriate response, but... it's not that simple. Azuki was very frank, she told me our marriage was about what was best for the Horns Conglomerate. We had a daughter, but that does not necessarily make a couple closer. But we grew to care a great deal for each other. Calling it friendship is not a fitting description, she was not my friend, she was... my companion." Louis smiled. "She knew me so well, she understood me. And now that she is gone... it is as if I lost a small part of myself." Louis sighed, then noticed he was shedding a tear.

He looked at Juno. The wolf started crying as well. And what she said... took him completely by surprise.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Juno yelled, exposing all of her fangs while slamming a fist against the table.

Louis almost lept from his chair. He pushed his classes closer to his eyes as he looked confused. "Excuse me?"

Juno growled, not giving a damn about tact in public space. "Our last night together, when I left that train... the one thing that made me keep calm, the one thing that stopped me from bawling my eyes out and yell at you and kick you in the groin... was knowing you would never be happy with that bimbo!"

Louis was baffled. Then angry. "Hey, that's my wife you are talking abo-"

"I could handle you not being mine because I could comfort myself with you being unsatisfied and unhappy with that pipsqueak! And now you are telling me that you actually miss her?!"

"I... I'm sorry, are you saying that I have hurt your feelings by caring for a female I was married to for thirty years?!"

"Yes, dammit!" Juno stood up and glared at the middle-aged deer. "You owe me me to at least having been a tiny bit miserable with her!"

Louis felt as if he was about to explode as he stood up as well. "You selfish... you childish... you self-centered... you egotistical..." He dropped his glasses as he yelled at the female wolf. "YOU HAVEN'T CHANGED AT ALL, HAVE YOU?!"

For a moment they just glared at each other. The other animals at the coffee-house had stopped talking and eating and instead looked at the heated argument that had started in the middle of the room. The orange cat picked up their phone, wondering if calling the police was necessary

And then, Juno started to giggle, covering her mouth.

Louis narrowed his eyes. "What? What's so funny?"

Juno snorted. "You still look like a little kid when you get all worked up!"

Louis heart was pounding. He was utterly confused. He blushed.

And then he grabbed Juno by the collar of her blazer and kissed her. The wolf was startled, but then hugged the deer and returned the kiss.

Everyone in the coffee-shop looked completely petrified except for the cat who filmed the dramatic scene with their phone.

Then... Louis regained his sanity. He pushed Juno away, resulting in her tripping because of her high heels. "WHAT ON EARTH AM I DOING!? I JUST BURRIED MY WIFE LESS THAN A WEEK AGO! YOU DAMN WOLVES, YOU MAKE ME LOSE MY MIND!" And then he stormed out of the room.

Juno giggled as she sat on the floor. "Wow..."

[wild-lavender-rose]

Guardian Angel Part 1

Pairing: Professor!Tony Stark x fem!reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: You are a grad student who has been selected by Stark to take his course at your university. Little does he know, there is much more to you than meets the eye. You are hiding your ability to create force fields in a desperate attempt to live a normal life. But when Stark's daughter Morgan is put in danger you step in to save her without hesitation. Now you're weak, injured, and your secret is out.

Warning: Cannon typical violence, swearing, description of injuries

Note: Part 1 is a flash-forward scene after reader has been injured. The following parts will be the events leading up to this scene/moment.

You woke in the middle of a hospital room unlike anything you’d seen before. Black marble floor, lots of windows, an assortment of medical instruments that looked like they belonged on an alien space ship. There was a steady beeping next to your head. You looked, watching as your heart rate increased according to the monitor closest to the bed you were laying in. What was going on? Where were you? 

You sat up slowly, wincing at the awful stiffness in your back. The thin blue blanket you had been covered with slid off, revealing a black sports bra and a pair of black sports pants. Stark Enterprises was written in silver on the pants. 

Stark. The beep on the monitor quickened as you looked wildly about you. The events of earlier came flooding back to you. Where was Stark? Had he brought you here? Where was Morgan? 

You flexed your hands, feeling your power rise to the tips of your fingers. The monitor became frantic as you created a force field the size of a dinner plate, assuring yourself that your powers were still intact before allowing it to dissipate. Next you turned to the monitor, sliding out of bed with a soft groan so you could stand before it. You assessed the screen and was able to understand the basic premise of its design and functions within a few seconds. Tapping the screen, you deactivated the monitor. The beeping stopped. 

Taking a breath, you rubbed at your aching neck. You were only faintly aware of the pain in your legs. The memories were still coming, your foggy brain attempting to piece the sequence of events together. Where had Stark taken you? Hadn’t there been others at the accident? What of their fates? 

It wasn’t until you resolved to leave the hospital room that reality came stabbing through you. At the first few steps a sharp pain made you gasp. You grabbed at the bed for support and looked down at your legs. It was only then that you noticed the outline of bulky bandages underneath the sweatpants. You tried another step, biting back a whimper as the pain worsened. You remembered everything now. All the monitors had sprung to life, alerting you to the pain you were already very much aware of. 

“Shut up.” You hissed, squeezing your eyes shut against the pain. “Damnit it, be quiet.” 

“Hey,” a new voice caused your head to jerk up. It was Bruce Banner, better known as the Hulk. 

“What are you doing?” The question was sharp but his tone and eyes were worried and kind. “You should not be up.” 

You ignored the fact you were talking to a literal Avenger in exchange for the pain that had begun to overwhelm you. “I need to see Stark. Where am I?” 

“You’re in the med bay of Stark Enterprises, now get back into bed.” Bruce’s touch was gentle but resolute as he took you by the arm. 

“How’s Morgan?” You grabbed at Bruce’s shirt when he started to move you, giving a strangled cry as your legs felt as if they were stabbed again. 

“She’s just fine,” in one smooth motion Bruce had you sitting down, guiding your head back before easing your legs onto the bed. 

“Stark,” you grabbed at the sheets under you. The pain was making you helpless and frantic. Your power was bubbling under the service, harder to control as your fear took over. 

Bruce turned on the monitor you had deactivated only moments ago, expression becoming tight as he input a new command. “Your energy is becoming unstable. You need to breathe for me, okay?” He turned to you, his tone soothing. “Everything is okay, you’re safe. Just give me some deep breaths.” 

“Hurts.” You squeezed your eyes shut again, trying to escape your reality. “Oh god,” 

“Jarvis,” Bruce put a hand to your arm. “Get Stark.”

“But you just sent him away.” Jarvis replied, a male voice that seemed to come from all around you. 

“Tell him I made a mistake and get him in here.” Bruce felt your forehead with the back of his hand. “Shit,” he muttered, adjusting the monitor while keeping a hand on you. “Breathe. Just breathe.” 

“Knock me out.” You opened your eyes, breath stuttering as you realized that your vision had gone blurry. That couldn’t be a good sign. “Please, before I, I can’t control my fields when I’m, I’m, in this much,”

“Say no more.” Bruce was already inputting the necessary commands into the monitor. “Hold on.” 

“You rang?” Stark’s voice made you feel equal parts relieved and embarrassed. He was lacking his usual cocky swagger as he crossed from the door to the other side of your bed, looking down at you with such honest concern that you couldn’t meet his gaze. “How’s our patient?” 

“Panicked. I increased her morphine.” Now that Stark was there Bruce removed his hand. “She’ll be asleep in a few minutes.” 

“What can I do?” 

“Talk to her. She’s been asking for you.” 

“Morgan?” Your breathing had begun to slow as the morphine took effect. “She’s okay?” 

“Yeah, just a few bumps and bruises.” Stark smiled at the question, but his eyes were tainted with worry. 

“Why am I here?” 

“Couldn’t leave you there in the rubble. Besides, I thought we should have a talk.” 

“I’m…I’m not interested.” You gave your head a feeble shake, the movement making you dizzy. “Didn’t want anyone to know,” 

“Did a damn fine job of hiding it.” Stark touched the back of your hand, fingers faintly interlocking with yours. “Does it hurt? The energy fields.”

You nodded slightly. It hurt every time you felt your powers rising to your fingertips. 

“We can fix that. Right?” Stark looked to Bruce. “We can fix that.” 

“Let me fix her legs first, then we’ll go from there.” Bruce nodded between the two of them. “Keep talking to her.” 

“Hope this means I get an a in your class.” You couldn’t help but smile even as your eyes began to droop. 

Stark’s grin would have made your heart stutter under any other circumstance. “I don’t know. I haven’t read your last essay.” 

You huffed a laugh. “Professor,” 

“Call me Tony.” 

“No, I can’t.” Your brow furrowed as darkness began to take over. “Don’t want to be an Avenger.” 

“What about a friend?” 

You tried to think the question through. To reflect on the events of the past weeks. Stark was still holding your hand, the sensation warm and gentle. As you fell asleep your hand shifted and fully interlocked with his. A quiet plea for him to stay. And then the morphine fully washed over you and you were gone. 

Fanfic Masterlist

I no longer keep tag lists. Follow and turn on notifs to see more.

[fandom-alley]

Strangers on Vacation | Part 1

Summary: After a bad breakup on what was supposed to be a fun 3 year anniversary week long cruise, Reader is stranded on the boat in the middle of the ocean. With plans to disembark at the port the next day but nowhere to sleep tonight, she accepts a spare bed from the stranger over dressed for a vacation. Otherwise known as Spencer Reid. Pairing: Spencer/fem reader, plus size reader, mid size reader (whichever you imagine while reading) Category: Fluff, angst, meet cute (sorta?) BAU on mandatory vacation time Warnings: emotional abuse, body shaming, (at the beginning breakup), alcohol drinking/mentions, self-conscious thoughts (Eventual spice but not in this part) please let me know what I missed! Word Count: 2k Notes: I wrote most of this in august, finally feeling up to posting! Part one of 3 or 4. This first chapter is a bit heavy with the breakup and how it effects readers thoughts on herself, but the main story is about loving yourself and self worth and of course Spencer and his crush at first sight. And the BAU on a much needed vacation! I imagine later seasons Reid, with the curls and facial scruff and stuff.

Also on AO3 Masterlist

I don’t know why I insisted on celebrating our three year anniversary on a week long cruise ship vacation. Three years wasn’t even that much to celebrate. One year? Sure, you can celebrate all you’ve learnt about each other and been through as you navigated that first year together. Five years? Absolutely. What a milestone. By five years you’ve probably gotten a place together, started planning a family, or maybe even gotten married. But three? Stuck in the middle there between two big celebrations. Little old three. How boring. 

Maybe that’s why I wanted the big hoorah. A romantic week away together. After all, in our three years of being together, we still lived in our own apartments, never talked about children, and the thought about marriage was enough to make my stomach turn. Maybe this vacation would change that.

I was very, very wrong.

The arguing started, you guessed it, three hours into the trip. Just about little things at first. Like which side of the counter in the bathroom belonged to who. Mine was the right side, of course. It’s always the right side. Any time I spent the night at John’s place, his stuff was always on the left and I would place mine on the right. But apparently I was wrong, and he always had his stuff on the right side, as he ever so kindly pointed out by yelling. I’m sure our cruise cabin neighbours were loving us already.

Then it was about what activity we were going to do first. I suggested dinner and a show in the entertainment lounge, since it was nearing dusk and well past time to eat. But he pushed back, wanting to head straight for the main deck swimming pool with the swim up bar and jacuzzis. We argued for about five minutes before I relented. I excused myself to the bathroom to calm down and change into my swim suit. 

For this trip I had bought some new super cute bikini’s. And in honour of my first time on a boat, and also for the first night on the cruise, I chose to wear the bikini with blue and white stripes. A nautical vibe that I found very fitting for the occasion.

However, when I emerged from the bathroom donned in said bikini because I hadn’t put my cover up dress on yet, John looked me up and down with a scowl before huffing out a breath and turning away. He busied himself unpacking his suitcase, already wearing his own swim trunks and a white t-shirt. 

“What?” I asked to his back, since he apparently refused to look at me.

“Nothing,” he spat out.

“Clearly it’s something. You’re acting annoyed or disgusted or something.” I replied while walking to my own suitcase to dig out that cover up dress.

“I am disgusted,” he stated. He stilled his movements as I neared closer to the bed with our suitcases on top.

“At what?” I asked curiously. I found the dress and held it against my body, trying to judge if it would be too weird to wear overtop of blue and white stripes. But it was a white dress, so I figured it should be fine.

“At you,” John answered. “You’ve let yourself go.”

My heart fell to the floor, as did the dress I was holding. I watched, speechless, as John finally turned around to stare at me in disgust. His gaze went from my head down to my toes and back up again. Where normally that kind of gazing would be taken as someone appreciating my body, I could feel the distaste radiating off of him.

“What?” I managed to breathe out. Maybe I didn’t hear him correctly.

“You’ve let yourself go,” he repeated. “Look at you, you’re even spilling out of your bikini. I thought maybe when you said we were going on a cruise you would take it as an opportunity to get in shape again. Apparently I was wrong.”

He took my silence as an excuse to keep talking. Ranting about all of the things that were evidentially wrong with me. Too much fat on my thighs, too much around my waist, too much gathered on my stomach, even my breasts were too big now. I wrapped my arms around myself as he talked, trying to cover up and hide away from his harsh words, until eventually he said something that snapped me out of it.

“I don’t even want to be seen out in public with you looking like that,” he snarled. 

“Well then, you don’t have to,” I snapped back. “Because this is over. We’re done. I’m leaving.” 

“That’s it? You’re not even going to fight for this relationship?” He yelled as he watched me roughly shove the cover up dress over my head.

“Fight for it? By doing what, loosing weight? Starving myself so I can ‘meet your standards’?” I laughed harshly in his face. “You don’t see me complaining to you about your balding head.”

His hands immediately went to touching his hair as he turned to find the nearest mirror.

“My hair is not balding,” he whined. 

“Try taking a mirror to the back of your head and then tell me that,” I said. 

Unfortunately he wasn’t balding as much as I would have liked in this moment. The patch of visible skin on the crown of his head was hardly noticeable to the average passerby. But having known and been with John for years, I was seeing the pattern increase a little bit each year. Not fast enough now for my anger though. I used to think it was kind of cute. A reminder that we were aging together. Every time I would notice it I would get visions of us old and grey and bald, sitting on rocking chairs together as we complained about the days youths. 

Now I just wanted to see that head of his shoved into some mud or something.

Angrily, I shoved my bathroom belonging’s back into my suitcase, roughly pulling the zipper to get it to close. I picked up dress from the floor, quickly pulling it over my head as I shoved my sandals back onto my feet, made sure I had my phone, and started to drag the suitcase with me out the door.

“Where do you even think you’re going to go? We’ve already left the port!” John yelled as I neared the door.

“I don’t know, and I don’t fucking care! As long as it’s away from you!” I yelled right back and stormed out the door. 

He made a good point, I realized as I stalked down the hallway. We were already floating in the middle of the ocean by now, with the sun almost completely set. But there was no way I would be sharing a bed with that asshole for the next week. 

How could he even say those things about me? And to my face, no less. It’s true. I did gain weight over the last year. I went up three pant sizes and two bra cup sizes. But I figured since we’d already been together for a while that he was used to me and my size. He never gave any indication before. Sure when we met I was small, but I was also younger then and had a very active job. Then I got laid off and replaced that job with an office job, took up baking as a side hustle, and obviously I taste tested everything I made. 

Determined to figure out my sleeping arrangements before it got pitch black outside, I pushed all thoughts of John into the back of my mind. I made my way to the cruise ship lobby, where a few people were milling about looking at excursion brochures or just sitting in some of the overly big chairs decorating the room. 

“Excuse me?” I spoke softly to the front desk attendant as to not draw attention from the other guests in the lobby. “Hi, I’m from room 209. I was wondering if there’s a room I can switch into please.”

“I’m sorry, Miss. We’re sold out.” The attendant informed me with a most definitely fake sad face.

“You’re kidding. A cruise ship this big and you don’t even have one extra room?”

“We had a few large groups book up multiple chunks of rooms. So no, I’m sorry. We don’t have extra space.”

Not wanting to stir up attention and make a scene, I thanked them for their help even though they were unhelpful, and turned away from the desk.

“Great,” I mumbled to myself as I walked away.

“Excuse me? I have an extra bed in my room if you need a place to stay.” I heard the voice coming up behind me. I slowed my pace until the person came to a stop in front of me. 

The voice belonged to a very handsome tall man, with wild curls, a bit of facial hair, soft eyes, and a small smile. He wore a rather odd outfit for a cruise ship. Brown dress pants and a purple collared shirt with a knitted vest overtop. I was sweating already in a bikini and a light white dress, so he must be scorching underneath that getup. 

“Oh, thank you so much for that offer, sir. But I’ll just bunk with one of my other friends, it’s okay.” I told him, not wanting to let some stranger in on my relationship problems. Before he had a chance to reply I walked off as fast as I could without it seeming like I was trying to run away from him. I’m sure his intentions were good. But you can’t trust people randomly like that.

I ended up wandering the ship for another hour, passing by the entertainment lounge that I had so badly wanted to be in hours ago. I also passed a games room, a gym which gave me bad feelings after the breakup that just occurred, as well as a library. With options running slim, I slipped into that library and rolled my suitcase to a secluded chair in the back. It was already pretty late, and I was so exhausted from the day of traveling to get to the boat and the events that followed, so as soon as I curled up in the chair I fell asleep. 

It felt like a second later when someone was tapping on my shoulder waking me up. Groggily, I cracked my eyes open and looked up at the offender. 

“Miss, I’m sorry, but it’s after midnight and the library is closed. You can’t sleep in here,” they said. It was a staff member who hardly looked old enough to be legal drinking age. When I didn’t reply, they continued. “If you don’t leave I’m going to have to call security to escort you out, and I really don’t want to have to do that.”

Well great. There went my plan to spend the night in the library and get off the boat at tomorrows dock and somehow figure out my way back home to Virginia. Before I could even stand up from the chair, the man from earlier was back at my shoulder.

“Hey, there you are. I’ve been looking for you for ages, sorry we got split up before I could give you the room key.” He was saying as he helped me get out of the chair. He looked over to the employee, “Sorry, we were meant to meet up when we got on the ship and somehow ended up getting separated. I didn’t mean for her to fall asleep in the library after hours. We’ll be on our way now.”

I was too tired to protest as I let the man grab my suitcase and escort me out of the library. We went up the elevator to the top floor, which my tired brain knew was the floor with the most expensive rooms. It was hard to pay attention to where we were going as I was pretty much asleep on my feet, but eventually we arrived at his room. I saw enough of it to confirm that he wasn’t lying about having an extra bed, before I was falling onto said bed and promptly passing out.

Thank you so much for reading! Please consider reblogging or giving it a like to show your support!

[corner-stories]

so far away from where we want to be

Pieck Finger. Porco Galliard. Beaches. Bonfires. Photographs From The Past. Modern AU. 2146 words. (ao3.)

The sun in the sky is just barely touching the mountains across the water. As a result the hue of the atmosphere is mostly blue with an enchanting mix of pinks and oranges splayed in the distance. It’s a sight so tantalizing that one can forgive the chill in the air, as the weather of early June can only warm much at this point of the summer. 

In the middle of a Pacific Northwestern beach — one decorated by a mixture of sand and rocks — is a burning fire surrounded by young adults, most of which are college students and all of which are some flavor of not-sober. Porco’s not sure which category he belongs to yet, but he nurses a plastic cup filled with bottom-shelf vodka and gatorade he’s sure that he’ll find out soon.

With his back against a log he sits on one side of the fire. A rugged blanket covers his legs, something he shares with the person who brought him here. When he’s not taking slow sips from a drink fit for a king, he’s taking note of the others at the fire. 

There’s a gathering of people near the log across the flames, where one brunette girl strums an acoustic guitar in true outdoorsy fashion. She opts to play anything but Wonderwall as her loved ones gather around her, something that Porco is very thankful for. Everyone holds themselves in the way that only established social groups can, existing without a care in the world as the music mixes with the sound of the waves lapping at the shore. 

The sight only serves to remind Porco that he’s technically an outsider. The truth is that most of the people around him are strangers, other students at a university he doesn’t go to. Had he not been invited he wouldn’t be here, but that fact in itself doesn’t deter him from at least trying to have a good time.  

“When’s the last time you got a haircut?” comes Pieck’s voice, and soon Porco feels her nimble fingers grasping at the strands on his head. 

He turns to face her sharply, giving her a bothered glare that he reserves for her and only her. On reflex he swats her hand away, a gesture that causes a playful smile to creep onto her pretty face.

“What are you? My mother?!” Porco asks, using his palm to put the strand back in place. Even all these years, all the pomade and hairspray it takes to slick his hair will not stop her from messing it up. 

Pieck lets out a chuckle. “Hey, I’ve had some guys call me ‘Mommy’ before, so…” 

Porco squirms in his spot, letting out a grumble imbued with his discomfort and unease. 

There are moments where he misses Pieck and wants to hear every detail of her misadventures in higher education, but other times he wishes that she wouldn’t be the living embodiment of TMI. It doesn’t help that she often speaks in a way that makes it hard to tell whether she’s being serious, or whether she’s just saying shit to get a reaction out of him. Though in his years of being her friend, Porco has learned that at least sixty-percent of the time it’s the latter. 

“Great,” he grumbles, then takes another sip of his drink. “Definitely needed to know that.” 

Pieck lets out a chuckle before nudging his shoulder with her own. “You know, you’re funny when you’re uncomfortable.” In her hand she swirls the drink in her cup like it’s fine wine. “And even funnier when I’m drunk.” 

He raises an eyebrow at her. “You’re already buzzed?”

“I’m getting there,” Pieck assures him, then takes a quick pull. Her nose wrinkles slightly, implying that the taste is not as appealing as she would like. “I’m taking it slow though, we’ve got all night.” 

Despite the shiver that had plagued him a second ago, Porco can’t help but crack a smile. It had certainly been a while since he had seen Tipsy Pieck. That night had been years ago and was the evening after they graduated high school, when some dude in their class threw a house party and really lowered his standards on who to invite. Apparently, no rager was complete without the guy with the fuckboy haircut or the valedictorian who no one expected to become so in the first place. 

Porco predicts that he might see a fragment of Tipsy Pieck tonight, but as long as there aren’t any tables to leap onto or fountains to dive into she should be okay. 

“Guess you’re getting the best out of your college experience, huh?” he remarks, turning his attention to her. 

“Well, I better!” Pieck laughs. “All this tuition has to be going somewhere!” She takes another sip of the janky mixture masquerading as a cocktail, then continues without missing a beat. “Modern education, Ladies and Gentlemen. Speaking of which! I didn’t ask…” 

There’s a subtle change in her eyes that imply she’s being just a little more serious. “How’s your shit going? Are you a paramedic already or what?” 

Porco rolls his eyes and wonders if he should bore her with the details. Him attending community college doesn’t sound as fancy as her attending the UVic. He considers repeating some of the jokes that his instructors tell, that people in his particular field want to be nurses but hate working in hospitals more than they hate being underpaid. Or that if he wants to see even more fucked up things on the field then he’ll get his firefighter certification on top of everything else. 

But he spares her the rant, and he’s not sure why but perhaps it has to do with this being the first time he’s sat next to her in months.

“I’m two terms away, then I should be certified,” he tells her instead. 

“You’re still doing that ride-along thing?”

“Sometimes, yeah.” He nods, then shrugs. “It’s stressful, but it’s experience. It’s what I signed up for.” 

He stops himself from waxing lyrical about every outing being the embodiment of ‘sink-or-swim’ and instead changes the subject. 

“What about you? Still thinking of grad school?”

“Yeah, but that’s a while away,” Pieck replies, undeterred. “I really shouldn’t be eyeing any schools yet when I’m barely out of this one.” When she puts her cup to her mouth she takes a longer pull than usual, almost finishing her drink. “Though one of my professors did promise to give a good letter of recommendation if I ever considered Concordia.” 

Porco tilts his head to the side. “That’s in Montreal, right?” 

The smirk that Pieck shows him is both amused and playful. “Why yes, Porco, and that’s all the way in Quebec,” she speaks with the aura of a high school geography teacher. She even pats the top of his head like he’s a puppy who just learned to stop shitting on the rug. 

In any other circumstances Porco would give another glare while she remains relaxed, but at this moment he’s still trying to wrap his mind around her words.

Perhaps it’s a little silly to fixate on something she mentioned so casually, something that might not even mean anything in the long run. But for a moment Porco lets himself think of what could become of him and her. 

Obviously, she had always been the smarter one. Not that Porco was lacking in that aspect as well, but straight-Bs certainly sounded less impressive than straight-As. It was Pieck who earned admission to UVic and not him, and even if she still lived in the city and was never too far away, Porco didn’t see her as often as he used to. Even if their casual texts were answered eventually, sometimes the time between each response got longer and longer. Whether he was studying the different kinds of medicine used to stabilize a patient or she was doing whatever it is that neurobiology undergrads do, it was hard to deny the distance between, even if said distance was slight. The thought of that distance getting any bigger doesn’t sit with him quite well. 

“That’s very far,” Porco ends up saying. 

In his mind he wants to say something more akin to “I’d miss you” but perhaps that’s a little too forward.

Pieck finishes her drink before putting her cup down. “I know,” she says in a way that sounds like she’s talking more to herself than to him. She takes in a breath and looks forward beyond the bonfire. “But… don’t worry about it.” 

She shifts underneath their shared blanket and Porco can feel her knee bumping his. It’s a gesture that he’s familiar with, as their childhood movie nights can attest. Pieck’s father never let her sleepover, but sometimes Mr. Finger took his sweet time getting to the Galliard residence when he knew that the two were marathoning Pokemon movies. 

Feeling her nudge him now reminds him of those long nights, of the hours they spent sprawled out in the den on a pile of blankets and pillows. Perhaps the only difference now is that Pieck no longer has to shake him awake three movies in and Porco’s rocking a little more leg hair. 

Pieck’s eyes are now on the atmosphere. She looks up and admires the horizon. The sun has set just a bit further and makes the sky look just a bit pinker. It’s the kind of sight that makes her sit up to enjoy it all, but despite the beauty of the Pacific Northwest being as clear as ever, Porco can only keep his eyes on her. 

As to be expected her hair is still long, stringy, and unbrushed. The woven cardigan that hangs off her shoulders is a size too big, making her look smaller than she really is, but that’s always been the way she’s dressed. 

Soon a bright idea pops into his head and makes him chug the remainders of his drink. Ignoring the sudden buzz now rushing to his head, Porco reaches into the pocket of his shorts and takes out his phone.

“Hey, check it,” he starts, tapping her shoulder. “My mom put this in the family group chat last week.” 

Pieck leans back and puts her attention on his phone. With the device he brings up a week-old text log, one that involves a bunch of ancient photographs that had been found in the depths of the Galliard attic. One of them is over fifteen years old and is as awkwardly lit and framed as most pictures from that era tend to be. 

Pictured on the screen is Porco looking no older than five, donning a dashing set of overalls and smiling in a way that teeters between absolutely adorable and the creepy child in a horror movie. Standing next to him is another kid sporting a pair of garish eyeglasses and a dress that seems to have been designed after the carpet in an arcade. 

While Porco looks proud to have dug up a part of their past, Pieck looks aghast.

“Oh fuck, that still exists!?” 

Despite the utter despair in her voice, Porco lets out a laugh. 

Pieck sighs and runs a hand over her hair, a habit she does when she’s embarrassed. “Oh man, this was before I grew into my nose, wasn’t it?” 

Porco scoffs and wonders if she seems more fixated on that and not her father purposely putting her in such a strange outfit. 

He thinks back to the day the photo was taken, attempting to recollect the memories surrounding it. While he can barely recall the name of his kindergarten teacher, he can remember his mother insisting that the two pose for a photograph together and not giving Porco time to smile like a normal human. He can’t even remember why she felt the need to take a picture, just that she did it and now such an image has been immortalized forever. 

But the uneven edges is what adds to the photo’s charm. It’s funny to think that the two dweeby mouthbreathers in the picture are now sitting on the world’s most picturesque beach, still together after all these years. 

With that in mind, his anxious thoughts of Pieck leaving for greener pastures fade away. He puts his phone down, then adjusts the blanket so that a little more material is covering her legs. She gets cold easily and he’s never forgotten. 

When he looks at her now she is no longer bothered by the jump scare of a vintage photograph. She looks more at ease, smiling as she leans against the log and lets him tend to her.  

Maybe this time next year things will be different, she’ll be on the other side of the country and he’ll be driving an ambulance around the island. But for now they’re here and that’s all that matters. 

[secret-fungi]

Paper moon

Paring: Tyril x f! elf (odelia)

book: blades of light and shadows

word count: 1k

rating: m

category: angst

warnings: mentions of blood and implied torture (I do not go into detail and nothing more than whats in the source,) decriptions of dissociation and hunger

A/N please read at your discretion this can be triggering if you have experinced food insecurity, dissociation, or have issues with blood. the blood and tortue is limited to very brief discriptions. torture is just implied but if you've ever been the doctors you can handle the discriptions.

Tags: @sophie-summer @lawrencebarkley @agattthaa @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesprompts

Drip. Drip. Drip. Rancid water leaked from the ceiling, sliding down mossy stone walls. It smelt damp and muggy, The smell of rust, Iron, and blood. Distorted words and unclear jeers- Her hand found the stone wall to keep her up right. 

Hunger, She’s so hungry- this hunger reminds her of being alone, before the farmer took her in. Her hands trembled and it felt as though there was a fire within her. 

“She’s going to die if you keep this up.” A voice said. “Then feed her.” another voice said.

Sometimes you get so hungry you aren’t anymore, sometimes you get to a point where all you can do is cry, so delirious you can hardly think, so weak you can hardly run. 

Hunger like that could kill somebody. Hunger like that is like a chain around your ankle. No strength to fight, to run. Hunger like that makes villains drool, for a piece of bread you will do anything. Nothing is off limits when all you can do is cry, writhe as your body shuts down, you have no gods, or morals, no memories, or thoughts other than ‘EAT’ ‘EAT’ and the thought slams against your skull, it deafens all other thoughts, every bit of hesitation consumed.

Starvation is not an easy death, but it is a powerful weapon. Hunger is a powerful weapon. 

Unfamiliar and unappetizing food laid before her, And she greedily ate it, all too aware of the eyes watching her, A favor given, a favor returned. 

Nothing is free when you are desperate. When you have no other choice the price is high.

When she escapes this place she’ll pretend not to remember any of this, she’ll lie to her lover when his hand slides over her ribs, “It was but a day.” and he won’t believe her, but she’ll be safe- safer than she is now, and when he gives her food without bugs in it she’ll know there is no need to worry about the debt the favor brings. When she escapes this will all be a forgotten memory, half revealed in nightmares that the smell of Moonflower and spiced cakes chases away.

But that is months away. 

Many Moons must pass for her to lay in her lover’s arms, and in her cell there is no view of the moon, in her cell there is no food. There is nothing in her cell to say that it is a new day- that this was real other than the drip. drip. drip of the stale water.

In her sleep she dreams of him, Long hair and blue eyes. Sometimes she forgets his name.

Most times she forgets hers.

Sometimes her dreams are so real- so real she can smell him. She can almost reach out and feel him, sturdy and warm. 

She cries. more so when she thinks of him, her hands clutched tight around the gold signet ring he gave her. “Should anyone ever question if you belong here,” he once said. Dreams half forgotten, promises left broken. 

She was going to die here. She was going to die.

Drip. drip. Drip. Drip.

Her head lulls, hitting against the damp stone, her vision blurs and she gets yanked from the ground, once again. 

Weightless. She is weightless. She could fly away if it weren’t for the guards holding her down. 

She’s strapped into a chair. 

“She’s not gonna last much longer.” “We don’t need her too, just till we get enough to…” Sharp pain and then… darkness. 

Weightless in an endless dark sea, fae fish dance under her, brushing against her fingertips as she stares at the sky, the stars spin and dance, a spectacular ball only she’s invited to.

Bright and colorful. 

There’s a flash, and there he is. He’s tall and familiar, but a mask of darkness covers all but his slight smile, a ghost of dimples forms on his cheeks. She should know him, She knows she should know who this is, but she doesn’t. 

She looks at him as he bows his outstretched hand, palm up, inviting her to dance. 

The stars sing a symphony and the man in the elegant cape kisses her hand. 

Like the ebb of the sea they swayed,  spinning till she’s dizzy, he keeps her dancing, his hand pressed against her back, eyes trained on hers, like a spell she’s unable to turn away.

She feels herself being pulled deeper into his eyes, they were like the night sky or the bluest sea. She got the feeling that this was not the first time she had been captivated by them, and the thought made her heart ache. 

He doesn’t let go, elegantly leading her in a dance, He doesn’t take his eyes from her. Something in them tells her he’s protecting her. That behind her is a horrible beast that he’s shielding her from seeing. 

Suddenly her skin burns, and she pulls away, but with a gentle smile, and a shake of his head he pulls her back. 'you're okay, just keep your eyes on me.' his voice says, something clear and bright and so familar she knew she's heard him before.

She's never listened when she should.

The spell broke. she looks down at her arm. 

Blood. 

Covering her, covering his hands and clothes, but he doesn’t flinch, he gives her a look that almost came with ‘I told you not to’ He pulls her tighter as she struggles, his hand on the back of her head. 

But the water steals her from him. 

So she falls below the water, being dragged deeper and deeper, the weight crushing her- suffocating her. 

She wants to cry- scream. But she simply fades, Sinking to the bottom of the ocean, staring up at the lights from the surface as the water pressed against her like an anvil to her chest. 

There was no pain- no hunger, nothing. 

Maybe the Tall man was death, maybe this was death. She can’t imagine why she spent her whole life fearing this, Fae fish and fish with multicolored scales, fish of gold, and fish that looked like stars. 

She can’t imagine why she struggled and fought against this much peace- she was finally free from everything. 

Above the water two things hit the stone floor, A gold ring and a hero. 

[ask-the-diamond-kingdom]

(@pokege-ne-project ; Shadow) Someone's still really confused by this whole situation. Cautiously curious, she asks, "Fer.. al? I haven't heard that in a while, wasn't it just for when a Pokemon's really angry?" Maybe it meant something different here??

Lucius scratched his chin at Shadow's question. "Hm...I guess it's only fair if I give you a better explanation of the species that exist in our world. Hold on." He reached towards the bag laying against the side of the statue and opened it. After a bit of shifting around, he pulled out a book and flipped open to a page that showed different Audino.

(Original artist is me)

Lucius pointed a paw to the blue eyed Audino. "On the left, we call that a "Decorous". Decorous would be the terminology used for Pokémon that have complex societies, cognitive skills that enable them to thrive in varied environments and overall have behaviors that allow them to evolve past the need to rely on the natural world to survive. That would be the category that we would belong to."

His finger then moved to the Audino with the different colored eyes. "Next to that are "Bestias". They are Pokémon that walk the line of being the middle evolution of a Pokémon Mega and G-Max form. For this Audino, they would carry the strength, typing and ability of a mega version of that Pokémon and carry certain elements it would have. However, under the full moon, they would enter a form that would convert into monstrous forms that is said to be a "true form" of that Pokémon."

His finger was now on the very different looking Audino next to that one. "Next to that is a "Feral". Ferals are more tied to the natural world. They are as wild as you can get when it comes to Pokémon and aren't the ones aren't here doing complex shit like making guilds, making cities, writing and all that nonsense. They are just...being animals in the wild. They are not angry. They're just living their lives. As you can guess, people can have conflicting views on them. Personally, I respect them like I respect nature. We do tend to call them different names. For example, a feral Audino is a Tabunne."

Then his finger stopped on the last Pokemon. "And the last one is...well...we call those the Fallen Ones. A alternative name used for them that are Shadow Pokémon. These are Pokémon that were made by the Goddess of Chaos and Arcana. The orange jewel you see is a living symbiotes that prioritize keeping their host happy and strong at the cost of their morals. I wouldn't call them evil. In fact, I would say they are more chaotic neutral."

"If you want more information about about these species, feel free to ask."

Ask Hints Updated.

TDLR Explanation of the above Decorous are essentially the Pokémon version of "humans" in this world. Bestias are Pokemon that act as a middle evolution for G-Max/Mega Pokemon. Ferals are Pokemon that are essentially the animals/monsters of the world. All use the Japanese names of that Pokemon or a shorten version of that name. The Fallen Ones are shadow Pokemon.

@pokege-ne-project