#i wouldn’t say all my fics work this way‚ but i quite like putting characters together with readers that are different

[thomine]

🍒 - Mimikyu

What’s your favorite character dynamic to write? (Can be romantic or platonic, specific or general!)

— 🍒 from fruit emoji ask game,requested by @andromeda-nova-writing

opposites, but not necessarily opposites attract. i quite like putting together characters who are on opposite ends of a spectrum and wondering how them rubbing off each other might bring them closer to the middle, where they learn to see eye to eye.

in a sense, it has the feeling of “i learned something from you, and you something from me.” i like it when characters have to overcome hurdles to understand the other party, and through the foundation of newfound understanding, start to deepen their bonds. i’m not sure what label to call such a bond. it can be platonic, romantic, etc… i just see it as 2 people who deeply care for each other.

it also opens doors to possible dynamics like “more alike than they think” or the ever iconic “enemies to lovers”.

[lowkeyerror]

Chasing Extinction

Wednesday Addams x Vampire! Reader

Word Count: 13.5k

Ch. Notes: Multiple parts, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of death, aged-up characters, potential ooc Wednesday, blood, lmk if I missed anything

Summary: As a child, loss showed you how disappointing humanity could be. As a teen you learned the importance of relationships. As an adult you learn how uncomforting success can feel. It's not until reconnecting with Wednesday in order to try save the Vampire race that you finally feel real purpose, direction, and romance. (BASED ON THIS)

An: ... Chat I couldn’t wait I'm sorry it needed be let free so here is part one. There will be another part at a date in the near future. Hope you guys enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing. Also at the bottom of fic is the symbol mentioned if you want a visual aid.

Series Masterlist

At heart you were a skeptic. The world was bleak, and you refused to place your hope into it. That ideology alone saved you from emotional weaknesses time and time again. You didn’t believe in people, as you learned at an early age, the only thing people were proficient at was causing disappointment.

Your mother and father loved you in their own ways. You remember tender touches from your mother, a caregiver at heart. She was always so careful with you, fearful that you might break.

Your father kept a lot of his emotions to himself. You rarely had a grasp on the kind of individual he was, but you knew his embrace was filled with warmth. You’d like to think all of the things he didn’t know how to say, he conveyed with a hug.

You loved your parents, but humanity did not. They were afraid of what they could not understand. All they saw was a group of monsters: Vampires that were a threat to them and their families. Their motivations didn’t matter to you. They had orphaned you without any hesitation. In that moment you learned disappointment.

After the loss of your parents, you were placed with your aunt. Your mother’s younger sister, perhaps too young to raise a child. She tried her best with you, but it was hard. Neither of you were quite certain of the roles to play in each other’s lives. She was a skeptic too, a woman who trusted no one, but herself. All she could do was instill in you her way of thinking.

She taught you about the dangers of attachment. Life had a way of being of cruel, according to her. She taught you how to protect yourself, not only with your hands, but with your brain. Without her there was a chance that you wouldn’t have survived the way you had.

It was easy to be skeptical when you were alone. When there weren’t many people like yourself around it was easy to not trust anyone. It was harder at Nevermore.

The school was filled with outcasts. People who could relate to being mistreated by society. On a more intimate scale, there were other Vampires at the school.

It was the first time you realized just how many of you there were. It was also the first time you realized how lonely you were.

You weren’t a social person by any means. The other Vampires learned that quickly. The only person who didn’t seem to mind was your roommate, Yoko. While others pushed to discover the workings of your personality, Yoko didn’t.

Her indifference eventually piqued your interest after months of harassment from the others. You let yourself question her one night in your dorm.

“Do you not care to know anything about me?”

She put her phone down before answering you, “Are you suddenly in the mood to share?”

“You’re the only person here that hasn’t tried to pry into the details of my personal affairs,” you deflect slightly.

“Here, it’s easy for some people to forget how cruel the outside world can be to us. They forget that our lives are at risk in most places. I know what it can be like out there and I understand what that can mean. So, I get why you're not so eager to share, it’s probably not anything you want to remember.”

Her words resonate deeply with you. It was like they were pulling something inside of you that made you want to tell her. It was the first time you felt that way, so you listened, “When I was a child, my parents were killed by the normies. I learned then that people couldn’t be trusted. Putting trust in others only leads to disappointment. After my parents died, my aunt became my legal guardian. She reinforced my beliefs and in part, is the reason why I’m not too keen on socializing.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

There was a pause. Something in her tone told you she had more to say. You didn’t know if it would be beneficial to continue the conversation, but you had already made it this far.

“You wish to say something else?”

She didn’t answer immediately, “Would your parents want you to experience a life without any companions? Living with no one to trust and no one to rely on sounds miserable. Especially when you consider how long we live. You may not understand it now, but finding the right people is usually worth the disappointments it takes to get them.”

You ponder on her words. The memories you had of your parents played in the back of your mind.

“I suppose that makes sense,” you spoke softly.

“Not everyone can be your friend, but that doesn’t make them all your enemy.”

You nod in understanding, “I’d like to call you a friend, Yoko.”

For a long while Yoko Tanaka was your only friend. She was popular amongst your peers, meaning being around her outside of the dorm meant being around her friends. She gently pushed you to socialize a bit more. While you weren’t exactly an open book some of Yoko’s friends became your friends.

Enid was a bit much initially. You didn’t judge her energy or the bright colors. She was a very vibrant person, which you had to get used to. Underneath all of that excitement, Enid was one of the most caring people you had ever met. It seemed to be second nature for her to care about the people around her. She was fiercely protective of her friends and that included you. You trusted her the same way you trusted Yoko.

“I wish you'd let me paint your nails just once, Vampy.”

You and Yoko were situated in Enid’s room for a sleepover. The blonde was currently painting your roommate’s nails. She had been trying to persuade you for a while. You always declined her offers.

“I don't like it when you call me that. If you agree to retire that name, I will let you paint my nails,” you sighed internally, preparing yourself for what was about to happen.

Enid let out a squeal of excitement, quickly abandoning Yoko to get closer to you. Her hand reached for yours without hesitation. She began analyzing your nails, her file ready in the other hand.

“What’s your favorite color Vam- Y/n?”

The immediate slip up made you laugh a bit, “Red, dark red like-”

“A blood bag, very cliché Y/n,” Yoko interjected.

Enid glared at the other Vampire, “Yoko don't ruin this moment. This is the first personal thing Y/n had shared with me.”

“It’s just a color,” Yoko argued back.

Enid shook her head dramatically, “No, it’s Y/n’s favorite color.”

Yoko looked at you with her eyebrow raised, “Would you tell our pup another piece of information so she could let this color thing go?”

You think for a moment, trying to find something about yourself that you think Enid would be satisfied with.

“My birthday is in February.”

“O-M-G, are you an Aquarius or a Pisces? I totally get Aquarius vibes from you. Things are starting to make a whole lot of sense. I wonder if our signs are compatible for friendship. Do you have Costar? You should download Costar.”

She rambled on about horoscopes until she finished your nails. After that she took your phone and downloaded Costar, making sure to send herself a friend request.

The only other person you made a connection with at Nevermore was Wednesday Addams. In some ways she reminded you of yourself. She was very intelligent and very private. Wednesday wasn’t someone who loved being the center of attention, she just often found herself at it. Her pride would not allow her to run from it.

It wasn't something that was outwardly apparent, but Wednesday was an adventurer. She craved a challenge, which she would never find in a schoolbook. Wednesday needed a case to crack.

“Have you ever thought of getting revenge on the people who murdered your parents?”

“Wednesday! You can’t just ask her-”

You cut Enid off, “Sometimes, but it wasn’t just one person. It was an angry mob, so I’d have to find them all first.”

“Finding them sounds like child’s play. I could probably do it in an afternoon,” Wednesday offered up her services.

You shook your head, “I wouldn't feel vindicated. Even if I killed them all, it wouldn't be enough. They robbed me of something truly priceless.”

You kept your eyes focused on the window. Watching students engage with each other on campus. The question created a thick emptiness in your mind.

You didn’t see the way Enid glared at her roommate. Nor did you see the slight displeasure on Wednesday’s face as realized her question was potentially insensitive.

Enid was careful to wrap her arms around you from behind. You tore your gaze from the window to turn into her arms. Enid had deciphered some time into your friendship that you preferred physical contact when it came to being comforted.

“My question was inappropriate, forgive me,” Wednesday spoke flatly.

Enid let go of you, getting ready to unleash a hurricane of words onto the girl in black.

“I think it’s quite thoughtful of you actually.”

“Huh, how?” Enid questions.

You look into Wednesday’s dark eyes, “That was Wednesday’s way of offering to help me get revenge on the people who wronged me most in life. It was a friendly gesture.”

Wednesday looked away from your intense gaze.

“Oh, I get it now. That’s sweet of you Wends, we’ll practice on the delivery next time,” Enid’s mood did a 180.

Wednesday rolled her eyes, “There is nothing sweet about me. I was just trying to put my expertise to use. I beat Crackstone and the stalker, I’ve been terribly bored lately.”

Wednesday and Enid went back and forth for a while. You simply watched the converse once again getting lost in thought. Your eyes scanned the raven-haired girl. Your mind wandered to places it had never explored before.

Yoko had explained crushes to you before. It was in simple terms; terms that felt too simple for the strength of the feeling. It was an intense yearning that you fought against at every opportunity. Having a crush on Wednesday sounded like something trivial, a waste of time.

You knew how the girl felt about romance. She wasn’t interested in it; in fact, the thought repulsed her. Yet as you learned from Yoko, you don’t get to choose. The feelings act on their own with disregard for social etiquette.

You valued your friendship with Wednesday and did not wish to ruin it with your romantic feelings. So, you promised yourself to never reveal them.

“What are your plans after graduation, Y/n?”

The question from Enid abruptly removed you from your own thoughts, “I haven’t given it much thought.”

“Does nothing interest you?” Wednesday let some genuine curiosity slip through.

You shrugged, “What is the monetization of an interest, if not the death of a hobby? There are many things I enjoy, but finding my life’s work has proven to be quite difficult.”

Enid was excited to chime in with her opinion, “I think you could be a writer, like Wednesday. You’re into classical music too, maybe a composer?”

“You have been more than competent as a detective during our investigations,” Wednesday gave you a rare compliment.

“I enjoy all those things, but how do I know if they’re worth pursuing? What if I’m not successful at any of them?”

“I loathe this expression, but perhaps it will be useful to you. You must ‘follow your dreams'. If you are passionate about something, you can use that to push yourself to successful heights. Success is not unilateral; it looks different for everyone. Though in the eyes of the law my investigations are fraudulent, I count them as successes because I know I solved those cases. I simply do not care what they have to say, because I know the truth.”

You reflected on her words before a sly smile took over your features, “If I got a bestseller before you would you take it personally?”

“Competition fosters creativity.”

-Many Years Later-

You wrote under a pseudonym. At first it was to hide your shame if you became a failure. As you began to garner an audience you kept it to sustain your private life. Much to your surprise you actually did make the bestseller list. In fact, you made it multiple times. Wednesday had still gotten there first. Her semi-autobiographical tales of Viper De La Muerte were beloved by many.

It turns out she was right when she said that competition fosters creativity. It seemed as if the two of you were always battling for that number one spot on the list.

Lately you have found yourself in a creative slump. There are too many distractions around, you can’t put pen to paper like you need to.

“I think I want to go out of town.”

You sit across from your aunt, while the two of you eat dinner.

“Where?”

You sigh, “I’m thinking about renting a cabin for a few months. I need to focus on my writing, and I can't do that here.”

“Y/n our numbers are dwindling, and you want to go live alone in the forest? What if something happens to you?”

You knew that this was an inevitable conversation, “Amdis I’ve already booked the cabin. It’s not too far from Yoko, so if anything goes wrong, she’ll be able to help me.”

The woman’s eyes flare red, “And what of the murders?”

“Conspiracy often plagues-”

She cuts you off, “You know better than anyone else that there is no conspiracy when it comes to the hate in the heart of humanity. Did you forget what happened to your parents?”

Her comment causes you to slam your fist down and rise from your seat, “Don’t you dare make such claims. I carry their loss with me in every step I walk, I see them when I look into the mirror, I hear them when I speak. How can I forget them, when I carry a scar, which lets me know that I should’ve lost my life with them?”

“Y/n I-"

“Just as no one came to save my parents. It’s impossible for me to save our people. I can’t live my life in fear of death because that’s not what they would’ve wanted!”

Your eyes burn into the woman. It was as if there was lightening storming behind your red irises.

Amdis relents, “I’m not saying that I expect you to save everyone kid. I just want you to be mindful of what is happening to people like us. The hunters are getting out of control, and the only safety we have right now is in numbers. I can’t stand to lose any more family.”

You sit back down. The gravity of your aunts words weighs heavily on you. You take a moment to see her not as your aunt, but as a person. The woman who lost her older sister, who could’ve denied you entry into her life. She was 18 and suddenly tasked with taking care of a 9-year-old. She had done everything for you, sacrificed so much to be the person you needed her to be.

“I know, I’m sorry for being inconsiderate. Your worry means everything to me. It’s just- this is something that I must do. You taught me how to protect myself, now I must ask you to trust that I've retained that knowledge.”

“You’ll check in with me every few days. If you miss a single day, I’m coming out there,” her tone stays stern, but you begin to smile.

“Understood.”

Yoko picked you up from the airport and offered to take you up to the cabin.

“How’ve you been bestseller?”

You sigh, “Uninspired.”

Yoko laughs, “I was hoping to hear about something outside of your career.”

You search for something to share, “My life is only divided into two categories my career and people I care about. Enid’s been sending me a lot of recipes lately; she said she wants to make me some blood brownies.”

“The brownies are fucking delicious; you should definitely take her up on that.”

You nod starkly, “Maybe I’ll host a little get together once I’m settled in and have gotten enough work done.”

The other Vampire nods, “You could invite me, and I'll of course bring Divina, Enid will bring the brownies, and last but not least Wednesday.”

“She’s probably busy being a modern day, more fashionable version of Sherlock Holmes. If she’s not doing that then she’s for sure drafting a book about it.”

Yoko shakes her head in disbelief, “And you’ve still got that teenage crush on her.”

“I do not.”

Yoko plays along, “Fine, then how’s your dating life?”

You blink a few times, “I have yet to find a substantial partner that piques my interest or matches my drive."

“Because you aren’t looking for anyone that doesn’t have the name Wednesday Addams.”

You roll your eyes, “Give it a rest Yoko. We both know that Wednesday doesn’t wish for romance.”

Yoko quirks an eyebrow, “Is that so? I’ve heard otherwise from Enid.”

“What do you mean?” The words spill quickly from your mouth. You try to regain some of your nonchalance, but Yoko sees right through you.

“I mean Enid has told me that Wednesday has had many romantic encounters. Passionate love affairs, burning romances, quick flings, you name it she’s experienced it."

You feel your jaw clench at the information, “Good for her.”

“Don’t be upset little bat. I also know that they never last. Enid tells me that none of them really understand Wednesday. They think they can change her, but-”

“Wednesday doesn’t change for anybody.”

Yoko agrees, “Precisely. Wednesday’s affections are often lackluster to many people. Some want grand gestures and proclamations, but that just isn't her vibe you know?”

“I know.”

The trail to the cabin isn’t too far into the woods. Yoko was able to park right in front of it. It was a cozier looking space than you had originally thought. The cabin was big but packed with well-loved furniture and knick-knacks. The most important accommodations for you were the TV, and internet.

Yoko helped you bring in your things and unpack.

“Ok, I’m going to visit every Friday.”

“You don’t have to check up on me,” you tell her.

She pulls you in for a hug, “I know, but it’s nice to have you around. It would be weird to know you’re less than an hour away and not come to visit.”

“You’re worried,” you mumble into her shoulder.

Her hand caresses the back of your head, “A lot of us have been going missing lately. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“You sound like Amdis."

Yoko’s voice is soft, “Your aunt has every right to be worried. Call her, let her know you made it. I’ll text you when I get home.”

With one more squeeze Yoko exits the cabin leaving you alone. The quiet washes over the area and you let out a large breath.

Your eyes drift over to the typewriter you brought. Usually, you author your stories on your laptop, but you brought the typewriter to draw extra inspiration.

Before you attempt to write, you call your aunt like Yoko instructed. By the time the call ended Yoko had texted you that she made it home safely.

You sat in front of the typewriter just thinking. The pressure was building. There was a finality in writing on a typewriter that wasn't there when you worked digitally. You’re somewhat forced to be more intentional with your words. Which was the main rain you had brought it in the first place.

It feels like forever before you type your fist sentence. Slowly, but surely you begin finding a rhythm and soon enough you’re loading in another sheet of paper.

A text message a few hours later is what finally breaks your concentration. You assume that it is Yoko or your aunt, but you're wrong.

Wednesday: Enid tells me you’ve taken up shelter in a cabin in hopes of ending your writer’s block.

You: I have and it's working quite well actually.

Wednesday: With all of the Vampire killing going on, you find locking yourself up some in a cabin to be safe?

You: Not you too 😒. I’m fine, Yoko lives close by and I'm very capable of defending myself Addams.

Wednesday: If you’re put in a position to have to defend yourself, that just shows that you didn’t take the proper methods of precaution.

You: I assure you; I have taken every possible precaution.

“Have you really?”

You scream and jump at the same time. Your hand places itself over your shallow beating heart.

“What the fuck, Wednesday?”

The woman eyes you up and down, “Vulgarity is new for you, Y/n. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before."

Your phone rings before you can question your old classmate. You pick it up hearing Yoko’s slightly panicked voice at the end, “Are you alright? I heard your heart rate like triple.”

“I’m fine Yoko, just have an unsuspected visitor.”

“Who?”

Wednesday makes her presence know, “Hello, Tanaka.”

You can nearly see the other Vampire smiling on the other end of the line, “Addams, very interesting. Well, call me if you need anything baby bat, I’ll talk to you later."

You say a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone. You turn your attention back to Wednesday. The last time you saw her was a little over a year ago at some party Enid was throwing. She hadn’t changed much; in fact, she hadn’t really changed much of her aesthetic since Nevermore.

Her attire was still all black. She still had her two braids. She might’ve been an inch taller and maybe her tan was a little darker, but she was essentially the same.

“How did you find me and why are you here?”

Wednesday walks around observing the cabin with each step, “Well I mentioned that Enid told me, that girl can’t keep any details to herself. She said you’d be staying close to Yoko, and this is the closest available cabin to her. I thought I would have had to search more, but I got lucky with this one.”

“Okay… but why?”

“Is it so strange that I want to catch up with an old friend?”

You look at her incredulously, “You wanted to see me, so you tracked me down and broke into the place I'm staying at? Try again.”

“I’m investigating the increasing amount of murders in the Vampire community,” she reveals.

“Oh.”

Wednesday begins to explain, “As you know the unprovoked hunting of Vampires has been illegal for quite some time now. Yet this year alone the number of bodies belonging to the immortals have been found at an alarming rate. A lot of Vampires are afraid that they might be next. With terror comes two paths avoidance or violence. Neither has ideal conclusions for the Vampire race. To avoid would be to possibly become extinct and the violent route means a war. Someone must put a stop to it before it goes too far.”

Hearing the reality of the situation from Wednesday feels more bone chilling than when your aunt or Yoko mentioned it. The last war between the Vampires and the human race had ended horribly for both sides. So much death that both sides eventually relented to peace talks. Those talks laid a lot of foundation for not only Vampire rights, but also the rights of many supernatural beings. Another war wouldn’t only affect the Vampires, but all relations between humans and supernatural beings would be up in the air.

“Another war would cause complete and utter chaos,” you say.

Wednesday agrees, “It would be the end of peaceful relationship between the naturals and the supernatural entirely.”

“What does any of that have to do with me, Wednesday?”

The brown eyed girl bores into your eyes, “My pride has learned to take a backseat over the years. I understand now that I cannot do everything on my own. The stakes of this investigation are the highest that I’ve ever come across. I require assistance from people I trust to ensure this matter is properly dealt with."

“You need my help,” you summarize her words.

“Yes. I’m currently making my way through my list of allies. Enid suggested that I recruit former Nightshades.”

Your eyes drift over to your typewriter, “Has anyone else agreed to this?”

“Enid is in, she’s in the process of convincing Bianca, Ajax, and Ken. I’m here for Divina, Yoko, and you.”

The pressure of this decision weighs heavily on you. Choosing to stay and write your book rather than fighting for the rights of your people seems ridiculously selfish. On the other hand, willingly agreeing to put yourself in the middle of a potential war didn’t sound much better.

“I need a drink.”

You enter the kitchen, locating the bottle of blood wine you had brought with you. With a wine glass and corkscrew at the ready, you’re pouring yourself a hefty glass.

Your sipping from glass at an eager pace before refocusing your attention on to Wednesday, “Do you want a drink?”

“Bourbon, neat,” she steps into the kitchen.

You sit your glass to begin making Wednesday her drink.

“I never pegged you for a dark liquor type of detective, it’s a little cliché.”

She’s quick to shoot back, “And a female writer with an affinity for wine isn’t?”

You wince playfully, “Touché.”

When you hand her the drink she continues the banter, “Your typewriter is an antique, Royal Magic Margin from 1938. Impressive."

“Amdis got it for me as gift after my first bestseller. I only really use it when I have writer’s block otherwise, I'm on my laptop like everyone else.”

“Though I’ve embraced most technology I still prefer my typewriter. It feels more satisfying when I can physically see all of the pages,” she shares.

You nod, “Understandable.”

The two of sit in silence as you nurse your drinks. You keep running through scenarios in your mind of how this all will turn out. Even the good outcome for the supernatural beings didn't necessarily mean a good outcome for yourself. Anything could happen to you along the way.

“I know that what I’m asking you to do is a lot, but I assure you that I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t think you were capable.”

Your finger plays with the rim of your empty glass, “Do you have any leads, evidence, or plans, or would we be going into this completely blind?”

“I have a few leads and pieces of evidence. I have the ghost of a plan, but I can’t finalize anything until I know my allies. For now, the plan is to gather a team to bring to my residence in order to create a feasible plan of action,” Wednesday explains.

You bargain with her, “If you can convince Yoko, I’m in. I don't want to be the only Vampire around if we're going to be facing hunters.”

“Fair, I was wondering if there was any potential in getting Amdis to join in as well,” Wednesday propositions.

You frown, “You know my aunt doesn’t play well with others. If I tell her that I’m getting involved in something like this she will personally track me down and drag me off to the furthest corner of the Earth.”

“Right, well then we shall wait for one hour and then I will drive us to Yoko's,” Wednesday says matter-of-factly.

“Why are we waiting an hour?”

Wednesday kept a deadpan look on her face, “For the drinks to metabolize."

An hour later the two of you are making the drive to Yoko’s house.

“How have you been fairing?” Wednesday keeps her eyes on the road as she speaks to you.

“Fine and you?”

You see the woman’s shoulders drop a bit, “I never imagined you’d give me such a scripted answer, Y/n. I thought we were years past formalities.”

Her words startle you. This is a side of Wednesday that you are still getting to know. You’re used to her being more nonchalant with the feelings of others.

“Sorry, it’s just my most given answer. I don’t know how I’m doing. I’m a successful writer, but I’m suffering with writers’ block. That doesn’t even really matter when my people are being slaughtered though does it?”

“I think we’re approaching the age where we don’t know what matters anymore? Everything blurs together and starts to feel the same. Success doesn’t seem as important as we thought it was when we were younger. We are going to save the Vampires and avenge the ones that have been lost. Then maybe we’ll be to appreciate the triviality of our daily struggles,” Wednesday answers you completely.

You find yourself staring at her side profile. There’s a hidden vulnerability in her words. You don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, but you question her anyway, “Have you been uninspired lately?”

“Uninspired, unmotivated, and bored. Not just with writing, but with the detective work too. I’ve thrown myself into my work since I was a child. Though I’ve seen the heights of success, they weren’t as tall as I pictured them to be. I suppose it’s like, I’ve grown larger than my dreams, and now I find myself… unsatisfied.”

“Then why take on this case?”

The woman licks her lips for a second before taking a quick glance at you, “It’s personal, isn’t it? I’m not a Vampire, but you are as well as Yoko. I can’t sit around and do nothing, as the people that I’ve worked hard to care about lose everything. Like we said earlier, this problem could expand beyond Vampires. My best friend is a Werewolf. Nearly every person that I tolerate is a supernatural being. I refuse to wait until it’s too late to act.”

A small smile takes over your features, “Noble as always, Wednesday.”

She scoffs in faux agitation, “Still trying to paint me as some kind of heroic figure.”

“Well maybe if you’d stop saving the day, I’d let it go,” you tease her.

“I don’t save the day; I simply follow leads and clean up investigations.”

You answer with sarcasm, “Of course, and it’s not like you take these events and turn them into bestselling novels where the protagonist is a reflection of yourself.”

“How dare you drag Viper De La Muerte into this?”

You laugh at the menacing tone behind her words, “Look, I thought we were done giving scripted answers. You, Wednesday Addams are one of the most heroic people I've ever encountered. Stop being stubborn and treasure the compliment.”

She parks the car before turning her full attention to you, “Perhaps I have some of the qualities of a hero, but I refuse the title. I’m more than the mysteries I solve or the books I write. There are plenty of times I was less than hero like.”

The both of you exit the car. You mumble to yourself, but she still hears you, “Spoken like true hero.”

You ring the doorbell and wait for Yoko to answer. It takes less than a minute for her to open the door.

“Baby bat, already out of the cabin so fast? And you brought a friend too. Long time no see, Addams.”

Yoko steps aside to let you in. The two of you enter and subsequently follow her into the living room.

“I’ve come to ask a favor of you, Yoko,” Wednesday gets straight to the point.

Yoko eyes you for clarification, “I think it’s best she speaks for herself here.”

Wednesday tells Yoko the same thing she told you. The Vampire did not interrupt once. Her facial expression stays neutral as she takes on the information and what is being asked of her.

“That’s a big ask Addams,” Yoko says once she’s heard it all.

“I’m aware, but we would be the only thing standing between an all-out war,” she reasons.

Yoko sucks her teeth, “And Divina is needed as well?”

“Ideally, yes.”

She’s silent for a few minutes. There’s a slow tension building in the room as you wait for her answer.

With a huff of annoyance she agrees, “I’m on board, Addams. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t at least try?”

Wednesday turns her attention to you.

“Fine, but I’m too young to die Wednesday,” It’s as much a joke as it is the truth.

“I would give up my life before I’d let you lose yours.”

Her words seem to suck all of the air out of your lungs. It’s the way she says it, in that way only she can. She speaks these passionate words as if they are fact. They’re common sense to her but seem like an alien language to you.

You say nothing, just sit there trying to keep your face from showing how flustered you are.

“Anyway… should I wake up Divina and pack our things now?”

Wednesday nods curtly, “The sooner we leave the better. It’s a long way to my residence.”

-At The Addams’s Estate-

Wednesday had not been exaggerating about the nearly 8-hour drive to her home. The property was just as unique as the members of the Addams’ family.

“Enid should be here somewhere with the others. You can sit your bags by the door Lurch will take care of them,” Wednesday instructs the three of you.

You all follow her through the home. As you get closer to the rest, you can hear Enid chatting away.

“Some things never change, do they?” Divina nudges Yoko.

The Vampire smiles, “The day that Wolfie has nothing to say, is a day I truly fear.”

When you enter the kitchen area you are met with a plethora of familiar faces. Enid is having a very animated conversation with Bianca. While Ken and Ajax are speaking amongst themselves.

The blonde let’s out shrill yell when notices your arrival. She’s quick to envelope her oldest friend in a hug, “Yoko, I’ve missed you.”

Enid’s grip is something fierce but Yoko hugs her back regardless, “We just saw each other last week, but I missed you too Wolfie."

Divina and Enid exchange quick pleasantries before the siren makes a beeline for her twin.

When it’s your turn Enid can’t help but to lift you off of the ground. It startles you a bit, but you let out of laugh, “You’re a lot stronger than I remember, Enid.”

“It’s a wolf thing, Vampy.”

You groan at the nickname, “I could’ve sworn that we agreed that you wouldn’t call me that.”

The blonde shrugs, “I don’t recall. Wednesday do you recall?”

“You’re asking her because you remember that she was there,” you point out.

The corners of Wednesday’s lips turn up slightly, “We all have unfortunate nicknames given to us by Enid. I believe it is a form of endearment. Though ‘Vampy' is not ideal, it could be worse.”

“See you could stand to learn a thing or two from Willa,” Enid beams.

“Don’t push it,” Wednesday threatens, her stoic expression returning to her face.

Enid concedes, “Understood.”

Wednesday snaps her fingers getting the attention of the room, “We all know why we have gathered here. As much as I would love to dive right into all of the details surrounding the event, I feel as though it would be beneficial to make sure everyone is settled in first. Get reacquainted with each other, try to enjoy this time. Tomorrow we will begin the real work.”

The traveling likely was weighing the abilities of the group. Most of them completing a full days’ worth of travel just to get to the home. Trying to rally them at this point would be a waste of time.

Upon hearing Wednesday's words, the talking picks back up again. Everyone is engaged in a conversation. Wednesday sees this and takes that as her cue to try to leave the room.

You stop her, “Leaving your guests already?”

“Enid is a much more entertaining host than me. She’s familiar with the home so she should be fine,” Wednesday tries to justify her exit.

“Where are you going?”

Wednesday fixes her posture slightly, “If you must know completing a nearly 16-hour drive back and forth is quiet tiresome. I was hoping to get some rest.”

Your eyebrow raises in amusement, “My god, I’ve seen it all. The Wednesday I grew up with would never admit to actually needing sleep.”

She rolls her eyes, “I said rest, not sleep. The two aren’t always synonymous.”

“Well, I could use some rest too. I've been traveling technically for two days straight.”

Wednesday extends her hand out for you to grab. You stare at it cautiously before slipping your hand into hers.

“I’ll show you to the room,” she begins dragging you through the house.

You wonder if she took your hand, so you'd be forced to keep up. It could be a precaution about you getting lost, her home was big, so it made sense. Maybe she remembered your affinity for physical touch and was trying to offer you comfort.

The last thought made you blush. You were grateful the woman was in front of you as to avoid her seeing your face.

She opens a door to what you assume is the room you’ll be staying in. When she closes it behind her, she starts to speak again, “Because I’m not regularly used to accommodating such a large number of guests, rooms will be shared. You and I will be sharing if that is alright.”

“This is seeming more and more like Nevermore by the minute,” you joke, though on the inside your nerves are failing you.

“Would you like me to get the tape?”

Though her tone doesn’t reflect it, you can tell she’s joking, “It’d only be for your benefit Addams, I don’t mind being close to you.”

“Good to know,” she says it to herself more than to you.

The room is large, you can tell it’s somewhat of a masters suite. It doesn’t surprise you to see that there's a bookcase situated against a wall. Near the shelf there’s a medium sized black couch that you could picture the girl reading on.

The bed in the center of the room is large, you assume it’s king sized. It feels silly to picture Wednesday laying in that huge bed alone, but the voice in the back of your mind reminds you that according to Yoko, Wednesday doesn’t spend her nights alone. It's in that same frame of thought that you realize there’s only one bed.

Wednesday heads over to the couch, “You will take the bed.”

You shake your head, “I can take the couch, this is your home.”

Wednesday counters, “And you are my guest.”

“Don’t be stubborn Addams.”

Her gaze meets yours aa little fiercer than usual, “I thought last name basis was just something between Tanaka and I, but it seems to have rubbed off on you.”

You crease your brow, “Abrupt change of subject don’t you think?”

She shakes her head a bit and the emotion leaves her eyes. She reaches for a book off of the shelf, burying her face in it, “Take the bed, Y/n."

“Old habits die hard I see,” you comment, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“What are you referring to?”

You purse your lips, “The way you avoid discomforting topics.”

You can see her jaw twitch from your place on the bed. For a moment, you think you overstepped.

She keeps her focus on the book, “I’d prefer if you’d just call me Wednesday.”

You keep your eyes on her, “Well, Wednesday, I think your bed is quite large. Too large for just one person, in my opinion. I see no reason for you to take the couch, when there is ample space on the bed.”

The statement makes her sit the book down on her lap, “You would be comfortable with that?”

You fight the urge to look away from her, “I wouldn't have suggested it if it made me uncomfortable.”

She gets up from the couch and hesitantly makes her way towards the bed. She sits on the side opposite of you, leaning her back against the headboard. You follow her lead and get comfortable. You lay flat on your back, pulling out your phone for entertainment.

You attempt to fight the urge to fall asleep. However, between the traveling and the softness of the mattress, you lose.

Your light snores pull Wednesday out of her book. She takes in your sleeping figure, analytically. Her thoughts roam freely in her mind as she watches you sleep.

She wonders if the rest of your skin is as soft as your hand. Wednesday wonders if you have laid in bed like this with anyone else. She wonders just how close she could get to you without it b being inappropriate.

The truth of the situation pokes at her. Yes, this case was foundationally important to her. She hadn’t lied in trying to get you to her home, but she also wasn’t entirely truthful. Wednesday didn’t like knowing what was happening to Vampires and being so far away from you. In her mind the closer you are to her, the easier it is to keep you safe.

An aggravated sigh escapes her. After all these years and her futile attempts to move on, she finds herself just as enamored with you as she was at Nevermore.

Now here you were, in her bed. Yet romance couldn't even be considered with such important things at hand. Wednesday had to stay sharp, to keep her focus on the task at hand. This was likely the biggest investigation of her career, potentially the last one she would ever do. Failing here meant failing you, and everyone else she cared for.

Though it was unlike herself she tried to stay optimistic. She refused to believe she had gathered you all to put you in worthless danger.

With her book long forgotten, she attempts to rest her eyes as well.

“I’m using this as blackmail one day.”

“They aren't even that close together.”

“That’s what Photoshop is for Yoko. You're looking at an Adobe certified editor.”

Your eyes open just enough to see Enid and Yoko conversing at the entrance to the room.

“Just take the damn picture Enid, before one of them wakes up.”

You sit up right in the bed, startling the women, “Too late.”

You yawn, sighing in satisfaction when your bones crack.

“We were just-”

“Being weirder than usual and taking pictures of us in our sleep,” Wednesday answers, sitting up in a similar fashion to you.

“Jesus, you guys are the creeps! Who wakes up like that?” Enid replies, completely deflecting on to the women sharing a bed.

“What do you want?” You ask them, your voice echoing as you wipe your eyes.

Enid rolls her eyes, “Relax Vampy, we just came to say dinner’s ready. You’ve been asleep for a couple of hours already.”

“Ok, we’ll be down in a minute,” Wednesday tells them.

“Take your time kids,” Yoko says, pulling Enid along with her.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to shake the last of your tiredness out of your body.

“I’m going to shower before I go down, you don’t have to wait for me,” Wednesday gets out of the bed.

Your body almost melts at the thought of a shower. It’s as if the word itself makes you untense.

“A shower sounds nice,” you say aloud.

“Though I’m aware of the dire state of the climate crisis-”

Your face turns red, and you cut her off, “I wasn’t- I didn’t mean together. I just meant in general.”

You marvel as you see color paint her cheeks "Oh, yes, that does make more sense. Down the hall, first door on the right there’s another bathroom.”

The two of split off into your separate showers. You find each other at the top of the stairs heading to dinner together.

You never pictured Wednesday in relaxed apparel before, but she stood beside you in a pair of black pajama pants and an oversized shirt. It looked like the clothes would swallow her up.

“Were you expecting something more elaborate,” Wednesday speaks, noting your lingering gaze.

“Maybe, but I like this.”

She heads down the stairs without another word and you follow behind her. Once you get to the kitchen table you take a seat next to Yoko while Wednesday sits at the head of the table.

“Enjoy your nap baby bat?” Yoko says suggestively.

“Do enjoy having 2 fangs?”

Yoko laughs, “How unusually violent of you.”

You roll your eyes, “Unusually? Have you forgotten the way I was when we first met.”

“All talk, no action,” Yoko argues back.

“Ajax, do you recall when I broke your nose?” You call him out, trying to make a point.

He sighs poking at his nose, “I do, it’s been a little crooked ever since.”

“Well, if you hadn’t stood up Enid, your nose would be straighter,” you remind him.

“Hey, I accidentally turned myself to stone.”

You shrug, “Should’ve led with that.”

Bianca laughs, “You didn’t even give him a chance. It was definitely on sight.”

Ken adds on, “No literally, and she just walked over him when he was on the ground.”

“It was kind of like a hit and run, except she slowly walked away,” Divina thinks out loud.

It’s nice to laugh and joke you still can. It feels like something you’ve been missing lately in your life. The sense of community that you have here surrounded by your friends is warm.

It's not that you isolate yourself from others. You make it to their parties or gatherings for special occasions, but it’s not often. It’s also not everyone like this. Though you wish the circumstances were better, you’re grateful for this, as you don’t know when it will happen again.

After the meal, you head back to the room. You aren’t tired, in fact you feel focused. With your laptop in hand, you sit on the couch. You take this moment to begin recalling things that might be important for the investigation. You think over the historical content that you know about Vampires. Strengths, weaknesses, previous war efforts, and enemies, anything that might help for tomorrow.

You’re familiar with the 6 W's of investigating, so you assume that’s where you’ll start tomorrow. You had some theories based on what you had seen and known from your aunt, but you couldn’t confirm anything without Wednesday’s evidence.

It made sense for this to be a group of hunters, but with the volume of deaths and missing cases, it was improbable to believe they were working alone. Killing Vampires wasn’t an easy feat. They were strong and nearly immortal. Evolution had done the race good. Garlic had been minimized to an allergy, they didn’t combust in the sun anymore, and wood could not simply penetrate their skin.

Silver was still the deadliest of their weaknesses, followed shortly by magic, holy water, and finally the claws of a wolf. There were other things that made them vulnerable, but those were the main ones.

“Feeling inspired to write after dinner?” Wednesday enters the room.

“You could say that. I'm actually getting some of my thoughts together for tomorrow. I want to have everything I know readily available. That way when we start going into what you already have, I could potentially plug in useful information.”

Wednesday sits next to you on the couch, slightly leaning over your shoulder to look at what you have written so far, “Has there ever been a civil war amongst the Vampires?”

You nod, “Multiple times. The first one was about territory expansion. At one point the entire population of Vampires was in one place. Some people thought that it was necessary for survival, others believed that they should be able to go wherever they wanted. People picked sides and they fought against each other.”

“I’m going to assume the side who wanted to separate won.”

You shrug, “Kind of. That war technically led to us being discovered by humans. There was lots of commotion, you can’t necessarily hide a war. Once they were discovered the humans began trying to kill them. So, they had to make a truce to fight against the humans. There was a huge loss of our people, a loss that some argued could’ve been minimized if we all weren’t in one spot. After that any Vampire who wanted to stray from the coven was allowed to.”

“I see, and the other wars?”

You continue, “I only know of 2 more that were civil. The next one was about interspecies relationships, and the last time we fought it was about ethical consumption of blood. The quick version of events with the interspecies dispute was that there had been this obsession with being pure. Vampires were not allowed to mate outside of the race, regardless of who the other party was. It was challenged after our war against the Werewolves; as a number of Vampires had fallen in love with certain Werewolves.”

“The blood one was quite recent, correct?”

You nod, “I was alive for that one. Maybe 5 or 6 years old. It was probably the largest civil war we’d had; some people even believe we’re still in it today. We need blood to survive, but everyone was divided about where we could get that blood. Some people didn’t want to drink from humans as it is not the best for our image in their eyes. Others argued that drinking from animals could slowly kill the ecosystem. There was even more fighting when it came to how to obtain it.”

“Who won?”

Again, you shrug, “Like I said some people say this one is still happening. It ended in a sort of agree-to-disagree manner. There are technically restrictions about how much of any species that a single Vampire can consume but-”

“Not everyone abides by those restrictions,” Wednesday finishes your sentence.

“Exactly. What are you thinking about all of this in correlation with the investigation?”

Wednesday doesn’t hesitate to share, “I asked about in-fighting within the community because I believe that Vampires are in some ways responsible for these murders.”

You hold back a gasp, “You think we’re killing each other off?”

Wednesday points to a part in your notes, “You have it written out here that you don’t think it’s the hunters alone if it’s them at all. They don’t have the strength or the numbers to operate on a high scale like this. They have to be working with some non-human supernatural beings. Who better to help kill Vampires than other Vampires?”

“As much as it sickens me, we can't rule it out. However, you did say any non-humans, which could mean anything. We all know the history between Vampires and Werewolves. We also know that a noted weakness of Vampires is magic which could indicate Witches. I don’t think we can rule out anyone yet,” you reason with her.

Wednesday’s gaze softens as she looks at you. It’s as if she knows something you don’t. For a moment you can see her contemplating, in her mind.

“Do you know something I don’t,” your voice is delicate as you press for answers.

You can see her mask falling back into place, “I think we should talk about it tomorrow.”

She tries to get up from the couch, but your hand grasps her wrist, “Wednesday.”

She wishes she could ignore your plea, but it was impossible. Maybe if she was the teenager she used to be, she could shrug you off and stand her ground a bit better. However, Wednesday had grown up and knew that acting in that way would not benefit the relationship.

“Come with me,” she says, slipping her hand into yours.

You stand and walk with her out of the room. You walk down the hall, taking a turn before approaching a door. When Wednesday enters the room, you immediately realize it as her study. If the large desk in the middle of the room wasn’t a giveaway; then you’re certain that the evidence board on the wall would’ve given it a way.

The raven-haired girl waits to speak. She watches as your eyes scan the evidence board. It’s a mess of pictures, sticky notes, and red string, but she’s certain you can follow it.

The images on the board are disturbing, she paid close attention to your reaction to them. Pictures of people like you, but lifeless. Some bloody and gore filled, others with bones broken, and some just neat.

You study the pictures, perhaps longer than you should. Your brain is working overtime to find some sort of connection.

“There’s a marking on them. You can’t see it in the pictures, but it’s visible in person. I drew it, right there. I tried to look it up, but the only thing that came up was general Vampire facts. I couldn’t tell of this was some kind of branding or maybe an identity mark that Vampires have,” Wednesday breaks your concentration.

Your eyes flit over to the drawing. It was a circle with triangles around the inner lining, and in the center was a swirl. You recognize the symbol but can’t necessarily recall from where.

“I’ve seen this before.”

Your fingers reach out to trace over the symbol. As soon as they find the paper you feel a burning sensation in the middle of your back. The pain makes you grunt and crumple on to the floor. Blood wells behind your eyes and spills out as you cry silently.

Wednesday is by your side instantly. She tries calling your name and asking what’s wrong, but you can’t respond to her in the state of pain. She sees you clawing at your shirt and without hesitation helps you take it off.

In the middle of your back, she can see a scar forming. It looks like the outline of the symbol she had drawn. It was only the circle; the triangles and spirals hadn’t formed yet.

“Burns,” you manage to spit out. Your fangs come out without your permission.

Wednesday stands up frantically searching for something in her office that would help you. When she returns to your side you can hear her opening a jar of sorts.

Without much warning you feel her hand rubbing the substance on to your back. You flinch out of fear but are relieved when the burning sensation dies down significantly. As your breathing returns to normal, you attempt to sit up.

“Well, I guess we know it’s a brand now,” you attempt to joke.

Wednesday glares at you for a second. She wipes her hands off before reaching to wipe the blood off of your face.

“Nothing about this is funny. You have this circle on your back, we don’t know what it means, and you’re a bloody mess.”

You grab her wrist to stop her from wiping the blood off your face, “These are just tears Wednesday. I’m fine.”

She looks at you wildly, “You are not fine-”

“Wednesday, we have more pressing matters at hand.”

She shakes her head firmly, “They can wait. Get on the desk.”

You furrow your brow, “Excuse me?”

“Get on the desk so that I can properly examine the wound,” she elaborates.

It’s when you stand that you start to really process that you don’t have a shirt on. Wednesday politely turns and waits for you to follow her instructions. You do as she asks, laying against the cold wood.

“Is this really necessary?”

“Just be still.”

You try to relax as reality begins to crash down on you. Not only is there a partial brand stamped into your back, but the woman that you liked since you were a girl is tending to your wound. You’re laying shirtless on her desk while she examines you. This is both a dream and a nightmare.

She begins pressing down on the mark, but you don’t flinch from the touch, “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Interesting,” Wednesday says getting a closer look.

“Does it look bad?”

“It looks… healed already. Last time I checked your kind isn’t fast healing.”

You stop her, “Well that’s not entirely true. Some Vampires, usually the older one have enhanced healing features to make up for their evolutionary disadvantages.”

“I want to try something. Sit up and give me your hand,” she says.

“You’re still just as bossy as you were when we were teens,” you say, but again follow her orders.

She huffs at you, “And you’re just as compliant.”

Her words shut you up immediately. You watch as she closes her eyes, both her hands firmly in yours. That’s when you begin to understand that she’s attempting to use her powers.

For a moment you feel her grip loosen before her grip becomes deathly and her eyes shoot open.

“What did you see?”

“You’ve seen it on a book at your house, it’s your aunts. Old brown leather, it looks like a journal but it’s thick like a book.”

You sigh, “You think we’re going to need that book, don’t you?”

Wednesday confirms, “Ideally yes, but we’ll worry about it later. I think we’ve done enough for today.”

You attempt to get off of the desk. Your foot slips on one of the loose folders Wednesday has on her floor. The dark attires girl is quick to try to steady you.

Her hands feel unusually warm against the bare skin of your sides. You feel her breath fanning over your collarbone. The fabric of her shirt felt soft, lightly tickling your chest.

There was a small tension building between the two of you. You could feel Wednesday’s eyes following a trail from your face all the way down your body. She did it so shamelessly, in way where it made you feel like a piece of evidence she was examining.

You don’t expect it when the back of her hand rests against your forehead, “Do you feel lightheaded, because you look flush?”

The way her eyes examine every corner of your face makes you want to melt on the spot.

“I slipped on your folder,” you manage to slip out.

Her hand drops from your forehead to caress your cheek, “I must clean in here before I let everyone in tomorrow.”

“Wednesday-"

“Can I ask you something Y/n?”

She says this while her hand finds a place on the small of your back, guiding you out of the room. You forget your original thought.

“Yes,” you answer.

“Are you aware of how cool and soft your skin is?”

You stumble over your words, “I- um-"

“It’s always been like that. As long as we’ve known each other, I mean. I remember the first time you put your hand in mine, to shake it. I’ve pondered over the years if the rest of your skin feels the same. Now, I have the answer.”

You’re in her room now. The door closes behind you, and her hand is still on your back. She leads you to the bed, and you still haven't found the words.

All you can manage to say is her name tentatively, “Wednesday.”

“Are you accustomed to sharing a bed like this? Does anyone of note know the comfort of your skin?”

“No,” you answer breathlessly.

Wednesday releases her own breath, “Good.”

You watch helplessly as the woman walks to the other side of the bed and climbs in.

“What was the meaning of this Wednesday?” You say as you climb into the bed.

She dares to get closer to you. There’s a small space between the two of you. Something you could close if you wished to.

“You’re captivating.”

“Is that something you say to everyone that's shared this bed with you?” You can’t help it as the snarky comment leaves you.

Yoko’s words about Wednesday’s escapades run through your mind. At first you doubted the validity of what you had heard, but with the way Wednesday was acting with you, it was starting to make sense. The suaveness of her words, the charm of her certainty, she could have anyone be putty in her hands.

“No, it’s not,” her voice held a sincerity in it that you weren't prepared to hear.

You lay flat on your back, scared to look into the Latina’s eyes, “I've heard about your romantic encounters.”

Wednesday sighs, you can feel her eyes burning into you something akin to the brand on your back, “Y/n, we’re adults rapidly approaching our 30’s. As a teen I could pretend not to be the slightest bit interested in romance. I could focus on my work. However, as I grew, and began to accomplish my goals, I realized that I wanted somebody to share it with. Not platonically, but intimately. So, I tried dating, is that a truly repulsive thought?”

“No, it’s of sound logic, just like everything you say.”

Wednesday lays on her back, turning her attention towards the ceiling, “Have I misinterpreted things between us? The tension, is it of another variety?"

“You haven’t. I’m just having a hard time understanding this.”

Her hand extends into the space between the two of you. Your hand falls into hers and your fingers interlock.

“I should’ve known the moment I met you that any other attempts at romance would be frivolous. I apologize for my timing, but with you here with me in this capacity, I could not help myself. I thought I would be able to keep these feelings buried like I did when we were younger, but the truth is Y/n, I yearn for you.”

“Wednesday-"

“No one has ever come into my quarters to lay with me. I’ve never brought anyone home, and subconsciously I knew why. None of them would live up to you. Your beauty, your strength, your humor, your passion; all unrivaled.”

You squeeze her hand, “Careful, you’re sounding like your father.”

“I can no longer afford to be careful. I am willing to risk my reputation if it means that you will entertain my pleas.”

“I always thought that one day I’d tell you how I felt about you, and you’d be kind enough to let me down gently. This is a lot to take in,” you close your eyes briefly.

“Is this something you want?”

Your eyes meet hers and suddenly they’re burning just as intensely, “Yes, but I am afraid. Wednesday, you brought me here to help you save my people. This isn’t Crackstone or some stalker, I could die. Hell, you could die.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“Why is it so easy for you to say that?”

As your head falls her hand lightly grips your chin forcing you to keep eye contact with her, “Because I mean it. Have I ever broken my word?”

“No, but-"

She moves closer, closing the gap between you. You feel everything slow as her thumb cascades across your bottom lip.

“I could argue you down with logic if I have to. My track record speaks for itself, but I don’t want to do that. I want you to trust me, can you trust me?”

You nod, internally shivering when her lips slightly brush against yours. Your breath mingles with hers and your eyes begin to flutter.

“I trust you.”

Wednesday moves hesitantly, but she’s basically already there. Your lips touch experimentally. She keeps getting closer until she’s on top of you. She’s straddling your waist with your face still in her hands. Your hands slide under her shirt to rest on her waist. She’s warm, warmer than you ever could’ve imagined.

You push her away from you a little as you work to control your breath.

“What’s wrong?” She looks for signs of discomfort or regret on your features.

You open your mouth, showing your fangs, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Wednesday slips her thumb into your mouth. You keep it open, feeling her touch your teeth. The pad of her thumb against the point of your fangs. She pricks herself and you know it immediately.

A single drop of her blood falls onto your tongue. Your lips enclose around her thumb as you suck lightly. Her blood is rich but bitter like an expensive chocolate.

You moan at the taste. Red hues swirling around as you taste her, “God Wednesday.”

She pulls her thumb from your mouth. Her chest heaves slightly, “I would allow you to drink from me until my knees were weak. As much as I desire that, I fear that if we go any farther it will becoming increasingly indecent.”

You nod, inhaling deeply, “You’re right, it seems like we are getting ahead of ourselves.”

She steals another kiss from you before she returns to her spot next to you. She tries to put distance between you two, but you pull her flush against you. Her back against your front. Your purposefully blow air against her ear.

“Where did you think you were going?” You chuckle in her ear.

“I thought we were giving each other space, as to not escalate our behaviors,” she murmurs.

It makes you laugh even more, “Can’t control yourself enough to lie next to me?”

Her arms overlap yours to keep them place, “I can. I suppose I forgot that you are someone who prefers physical contact.”

“We don’t have to cuddle,” you say.

“No, I like this,” Wednesday holds on to you tighter.

“Goodnight, Wednesday,” you whisper into her hair.

“Goodnight.”

You weren’t ready to wake up when you felt the warmth move from beside you in the morning. Your arms pat around the bed searching for the girl that had spent the night next to you.

You groan when you are unable to locate her.

“Go back to sleep it’s early.”

Instead of listening to the voice, you sit up and began to rub the sleep out of your eyes, “Where are we going?”

“I am going to clean my study, and you’re staying here,” she puts emphasis on the ‘I.’

“Let me help,” you say getting completely out of the bed and stretching your limbs.

You hear Wednesday sigh, “Your eyes aren’t even open.”

You open them slowly, adjusting to the new brightness, “Better?”

Wednesday rolls her, “Fine, but put a shirt on. We don't need everyone seeing your bra.”

You let a dopey smile play on your features before throwing a shirt over your head, “Jealous?”

“And if I were to say yes?”

You walk across the room to stand in front of the shorter girl, “Then I’d say you have nothing to worry about. Divina, Yoko, and Enid have all seen me shirtless before and none of them have been swooned.”

Wednesday glares at you, “Not funny, I recount Enid saying some rather interesting words about your body.

Your eyebrows raise, “Wolfie liked what she saw then?”

You could see Wednesday’s jaw clench, “If you would rather room with Enid that can be arranged.”

You shake your head, “I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

Color dusts Wednesday’s cheeks as she looks away from you, “We’re supposed to be cleaning my study.”

You step aside and dramatically gestures towards the door, “After you.”

“After I practice my dental hygiene,” Wednesday says taking steps to her restroom.

“I’ll do the same and we’ll meet in front of the office?”

She nods and the two of you go your separate ways briefly before meeting in front of Wednesday's office.

It was as messy as it had been the night before. Together you work in silence to make the room more presentable. Papers that are scattered on the floor find themselves in neat stacks on her desk. Some of the books are returned to their proper home against the wall. You clean until the only mess that remains is your shirt from last night and a small bloodstain on the floor.

Wednesday picks up the shirt before you do, she examines it. When she holds it up there’s a notable hole in it, the shape matches the one of the symbols that was now etched into your back.

“Just how hot was it?”

When you get a glimpse of the shirt you frown, “I’ve never felt such an intense pain in my whole life. It felt like the sun was resting on my back.”

Wednesday keeps the shirt as evidence she you help her remove the stain from the floor. By the time you finish it’s actually a reasonable time in the morning.

You decide to go the kitchen and look for sustenance. Yoko, Enid, and Bianca are already there, seemingly making breakfast for everyone.

“Morning,” Enid speaks enthusiastically.

You greet them quietly, taking a seat at the table. Yoko brings you a slice of toast that’s covered in, what you assume is blood jam. You’re correct, and munch on the bread happily.

“Y/n did you have a nightmare or something last night?” The other Vampire questions, taking a seat next to you.

“I was going to ask the same thing, your heart was going crazy, and it sounded like you were crying,” Enid adds on.

“I think it’s better if I wait to tell everyone at once,” you mumble.

“Does it have to do with the investigation?” Bianca correctly assesses your hesitance.

Wednesday answers, “Yes, and let’s hold any further questions until after breakfast.”

You can see Yoko roll her eyes behind her glasses, “How come Addams gets to know and I don’t?”

“Yoko, we were together, so she saw everything. I’ll tell everyone once we’re getting ready to start working out the plan.”

One by one, everyone else appears in the kitchen. The chatter is low but fills the room all the same. Once everyone finished, Wednesday starts to direct them towards the office. As they file into the room Wednesday grabs your hand pulling you to the stand with her in front of the evidence.

“Last night after speaking with Y/n, about the history of in-fighting in the Vampire community, we came to this room to go over some of the evidence that I have gathered. During that time, I pointed out the pattern of this symbol on the victims. Though it did not photograph well, I took the time to draw it. When Y/n touched that drawing, it partially burned into her skin.”

You turn with your back facing them. You raise up your shirt to just above the scar on your back. A few gasps are heard with the reveal.

“That symbol belongs to the first generation of elders,” Yoko inspects the drawing.

“Do you know why it burned her?”

Yoko tilts her head to the side, “There was a story my parents used to tell me about it, but I always thought it was legend. The symbol was originally the crest of the first Vampires in existence. It goes back to the territory expansion, the elders wanted everyone to stay together. However, when it was decided that the others could leave, they wanted a way of being able to identify each other once out in the world. They took their symbol and filled it with cursed magic. It marked every Vampire that it could touch.”

“Does that explain why it’s on the bodies?” Ajax questioned.

Bianca answers him, “I doubt it, that story is probably hundreds if not thousands of years old. Most of these victims wouldn’t have been around back then, according to this board.”

Yoko adds on, “Bianca is right. After Vampires were allowed to migrate, it didn’t make sense for us to all follow one set of elders. So, everyone kind of started doing their own thing, finding guidance in the community rather than the original elders. Of course this upset them, they tried warning people about fighting against them. Eventually their need for control caused them to do some heinous things to other Vampires resulting in exile. Their symbol was banned and as far as I know they dropped off the face of the earth.”

“Is there a chance that these markings come from them?” Ken speaks up.

The group looks to Yoko and yourself for answers.

“It’s not impossible…” You begin to say.

“But as immortal as we claim to be, we can still die. The average life span is somewhere around 500-700 years. They would be pushing 1,000 if not older,” Yoko finishes.

“Did you have any suspects Wednesday?” Divina chimes in.

Wednesday begins to point to the evidence board, “There’s inconsistencies across the murders. They all look different, live in different areas, various ages, even the way they are being killed seems different in each circumstance. In some places I’ve found some typical Vampire hunter weapons, stakes, silver, matches. However, with respect to the scale of the crimes it is unlikely that they’re working alone.”

Enid begins to speculate, “So we think the elders Vampires are teaming up with the Vampire hunters? How does that work?”

“Well, the motivation is there for both parties. If the elders are still alive, they have to be powerful beings. Even if the hunters wanted to kill them, they probably couldn’t,” you offer her an answer.

“That or the hunters could be under hypnosis. So, they have no choice but to work with the elders,” Yoko adds on.

“So, what’s the plan Addams?”

Bianca’s question refocuses the attention on Wednesday. You all can see the gears spinning in her brain. This was tedious work, not something that could be wrapped up instantaneously.

“We’ll start by getting the book from Amdis. Then I have a few leads we can follow.”

It wasn’t a full plan just something structured enough to start. Things could develop and change depending on what you found in the book, so it made sense to keep things open.

You weren’t necessarily fond of bringing everyone to your house to collect the book, but it was the most efficient thing to do. That way you guys would be able to check out Wednesday’s leads together straight after.

You were hoping that your aunt wouldn’t be at the house when you arrived. It was a silly thing to hope for, you knew she was an introvert. Your key wasn’t in the door for 3 seconds before it was yanked open.

“Back from finding yourself in the woods already? Oh, and you’ve brought guests.”

You lead your friends into the house going straight to the living area. The book you were looking for should be somewhere on the bookcase. Locating it is easy; it sticks out amongst the rest. You’re scared to touch it, the burning sensation still very fresh in your mind. Wednesday can sense the hesitation from your side, she picks up the book, tucking it under her arm.

“We haven’t come to stay, I just need to grab something, and we’ll be on our way,” you call out to your aunt.

“On your way where exactly?”

Your mind goes blank, but thankfully Enid cuts in, “We’re going on a little friends vacay. It’s been so long since we’ve all been together. With work and life and everything else, we just thought it would be fun to recapture some of that teenage magic before we forget what it felt like.”

“Well, this is more practical then locking yourself in the woods alone, I suppose,” Amdis states.

Your jaw twitches at the slight jab, “More inspiring to have my friends by my side.”

“One last question, where do you think you're taking that book?”

Your face drops with the question, “I’m just doing like you said, caring a little more about our people.”

Amdis crosses her arms over her chest, “I’m just supposed to take that at face value when you have the world’s most unnerving detective by your side? How do you even know that books about Vampires?”

“I have seen this symbol before, why are you making such a big deal of it?”

Amdis stares at you in disbelief, “Because you clearly think I’m some sort of idiot. You’re standing here lying to me like I haven’t known you, your whole life.”

“I’m not a child anymore Amdis, I don’t need you to babysit me. We both know you didn’t want to in the first place,” you shoot at her.

“Is that how you really feel? You want to lay it all out, fine. No, I wasn’t ready to become a parent at 18, but you were all I had. My parents were long gone, and my sister was dead. I knew what it felt like to be alone, to be abandoned, and I didn’t want that for you, Y/n. I sacrificed the little that I had for you, and I’d do it all over again because you’re my family and I love you. Yet, you repay me for my sacrifice with lies, deceit, and accusations. All because I care about you.”

The tension in the room finally explodes. Your friends watch you with careful eyes. Wednesday wants to reach out, but you move before she can. You find yourself sitting in a chair staring at your aunt, the empty expression on your face reminiscent of when you were young, and emotionally avoidant.

You lean forward with your elbows on your knees, trying to find the confidence in your posture. When you speak your voice betrays you, wavering with a soft timidity, “We’re going to stop the extinction.”

The anger vanishes from your aunt’s eyes, “What?”

“I’m going to help save our people, with or without your blessing. It’s dangerous, it’s risky, and perhaps it’s even a little naïve, but Amdis you were right, our people are dying. I’ve seen it and I just can’t stand idly by.”

She exhales audibly, “I’m going with you.”

“But-"

“Kid you’ve lost your fucking mind if you think I’m going to let you go on a literal suicide mission without me. Besides, you’ll all be better off having an expert on your side.”

Bianca interrupts, “We were trying to get her to bring you along in the first place.”

You glare at the siren, “Fine since we’ve figured this out so graciously, I need a minute alone with my aunt. So, talk amongst yourselves and don’t break anything in my house.”

Your aunt leaves the room first and you attempt to follow her. A gentle grasp on your hand stops your briefly.

“Are you going to be alright?”

You squeeze her hand lightly, “I’ll be fine, Wednesday. It’ll be quick, just start looking through the book.”

You squeeze her hand once more before going after your aunt. She’s waiting for you in your room. You close the door behind you as the two of you stare at each other.

“I’m sorry for lying to you. I just didn’t want you to try and stop me,” you admit.

“Kid, I know it feels like I’m getting in your way sometimes. It’s not that I don’t believe in you, because I do. You’re one of the brightest minds I’ve ever encountered. I've watched you succeed in spite of everything you’ve been through. I love you and I’m proud of you. I just- I don’t want to lose you too,” you see the tears begin to well in her eyes.

Though she stands defensively, you still make your way across the room to wrap her up in a hug. Her head falls onto your shoulder as you tightly hug her.

“I couldn’t have done any of it with you. You became the parent I needed you to be and I'm grateful for it, I love you for it. You’re not going to lose me, I promise,” you sway with the embrace.

Amdis pushes herself out of the embrace gently, wiping at her eyes, “Let’s go save our people.”

Upon returning to the living room Wednesday presents the book to Amdis holding it up a picture of a man.

“Do you know who this man is?”

“Ulysses Obrien, he was a secretary of sorts. He worked with the elders, even after the territory expansion. Why?”

Wednesday holds up her phone and a modern picture of a man that strongly favors the one in the book is displayed, “Because he’s my first lead.”

With the pictures side by side in front of you, the theory of other Vampires being involved in the extinction was becoming more and more likely. The fact you were looking at the historian of the elders was proof enough they could live that long. The thought of the power alone was intimidating, but you couldn’t run from it. You believed in it too much now; you were going to save the Vampires from extinction.

[starcharmed]

"Nothing's New"

In which your partner is never going to pay attention to you, because they’re too focused on their dead lover

Bell’s notes: “writer bell goes too far with this fic-” im /j no ones gonna say that, angst powers pls work tho, like im asdlkfjawel;fjsd;jf;lska, i cant write dude, let me like, plan this out in my head before writing nonsense, LIKE BRO, feral over angst LORD, 100k likes and you get part 2 /jjjj, growling i love angst, MWHAHAHA, sorry ely, yuka, mhie, snob, and zee if you read this 😔😔😔, i listened to “IT Girl” while writing this 😋, got carried away with Ayato’s part oopsies, i believe Guizhong for the ladies but whatever 😔😔😔, cut out Wanderer & Childe in the end because i’m TIRED, not proofread

Story details: Ayato lowkey a bitch, scratch that highkey, reader has self-doubt, Neuvilette doesn’t mean to be mean he just ISSS, GUIZHONG DID NOTHING STOP MAKING HER THE ONE IN BLAME IN THESE ZHONGLI SCENARIOS, oh and I couldn’t be bothered with Xiao’s part like a quarter through he’s such a flexible yet straight character, it’s the way you can tell when I got lazy with each part, chance Xiao & Zhongli are gonna be ooc as i’ve never written anything but short headcanons for them before

Characters & Triggers: Ayato, Neuvilette, Xiao, & Zhongli;  reader has self-doubt, mention of death, mention of martial neglect

Reader details: female reader in Ayato’s part is explicit. female reader in Neuvilette’s part can be interpreted with the way you read it. the other parts, however, shouldn’t have a specified reader type. reader’s personality, race/ethnicity, height, physical descriptions, or anything of the sort is not mentioned. if anything is let me know and i’ll edit it. 

Ayato: No surprise the Yashiro Commissioner doesn’t pay attention to his new wife, the one that he didn’t marry first. You knew that he didn’t love you, and most likely never would because you were, in fact, the second pick. Actually, it was probably in the hundreds based on the amount of marriage arrangement offers Ayato had gotten considering he was one of the biggest figures in Inazuma. It didn’t matter, but he most likely picked you because your clan was a small one to put it lightly, so he most likely chose it, and you, because it wouldn’t be a hassle with the press. But of course, he would choose the person and clan that seemed, “easy”. It hurt seeing some of the people’s sympathetic stares, such as Ayaka’s, Thoma’s, and a few of the older women working in the estate. You got used to the lack of greeting from Ayato when he got off work, the lack of warmth beside you at night. You found it hilarious, although you were hysteric at the time as you had just found out that Ayato was off that day and neglected to see you, that he never, ever laid down in the same bed as you. It doesn’t matter no matter how hard you work around the estate, how long you sit up doing his work, which you soon quit once he yelled at you like a homeless dog, or even the distinct flower you made out of one of Ayato’s favorite sweets that he ignored. Not even a glance at your general direction, either. After a while, you decided to do some digging on his past wife, only to find out that she was in fact near perfect. Perfect reputation, perfect everything, to put it shortly. Shortly after asking Ayaka what happened to her, by pulling the sad, guilty wife card, you found out she was a victim of an assassination attempt that turned into a success. Of course, Ayato and his perfect wife would only be torn apart by death. It was poetic, and it made you sick. So what were you to do but endure the slow torture that you and Ayato’s marriage was? After all, nothing you could do could change how he felt about you. 

Neuvillette: The famous hydro dragon, at least to those who knew his ‘secret’. His past lover, unfortunately, died before him, no doubt to his immortality. Of course, you would soon die, maybe in a few decades but, hey, it wasn’t like he would miss you. You could only wait awake at night as Neuvillette went to fix himself his own meal, despite you staying up to cook him one and await for his return from work. It’s not that was the only time he never paid attention to you, after all the man had most likely been grieving his wife for centuries at this point in time. So what were you to do besides stay and watch this man be emotionally constipated around you? Why did he even marry you in the first place, then? It couldn’t be because his past wife resembled you, and it certainly wasn’t because you both acted the same. Was it because he needed someone to cling to? I mean, you weren’t exactly someone who seemed to not fit the criteria of a compassionate co-worker who would comfort Neuvillette in his times of distress. Did Neuvilette only come to you because you were his way of grieving? It would make partial sense, to cling to the nearest piece of comfort to help with the pain of loss. It made you feel like nothing but an object meant for his emotional wants, but in reality, that’s all you ever are and will ever be to him. 

Xiao: The famous adeptus long ago, had someone close to him. Shame they fell to waste during the archon wars, along with the other adepti. It was no surprise that everyone familiar with Liyue stories knew about the two of them together, which unfortunately included you. It didn’t pain you that much until your oh-so-loveable boyfriend got distracted by two kids playing with a Xiao lantern and one of her. After that, it only devolved into more. The lack of visits to your room in the inn, the lack of responses whenever you left your little notes for him near your meet-up place, and the extreme lack of thank-you-notes whenever you left Xiao almond tofu. It didn’t matter that you started to skip and completely ignore doing all of these things just to see if he would notice because the adeptus failed to appear in your room just to check in to see if you were okay. This behavior was unlike him, at least in the sense of him completely ignoring you. The only answer you could think of, that logically made sense, of course, was that he was reminded of his past loved one because of the run-in with the lanterns you two had while out in Liyue. So in terms, he seemed to disconnect with you because of the memories of his past significant other? You knew the adepti didn’t die peacefully, you could tell that much from the stories, so it wouldn’t be surprising if that also applied to Xiao’s past lover. There was nothing you could do about it though, because if you knew Xiao, he wouldn’t talk about her to you nor push her aside for you.

Zhongli: Guizhong. Of course, you were familiar with the name, everyone in Liyue was. Everyone might be a stretch considering the visitors and children, but the point’s been made. Morax and Guizhong were close. Close in a sense of possibly having relationship affairs but that was only explicit to you because of the way your lover would glace at glaze lilies. You couldn’t call him your lover, could you? Not with the way he would hum to the glaze lilies, the way his eyes would also drift away from you whenever you talked as you took strolls through Guilu Plains, and the way he would opt to tell stories of specific tales of his time as Morax, ones that included Guizhong in some way. It got to the point where you had to make up tasks that you had to do daily just to get away from the walks you two took, not to hear the different-yet-similar stories of Morax and totally not Guizhong. It was childish of you to be doing so, you had yourself convinced, as you couldn’t blame Guizhong for any of it. She had no part of this besides well, besides being your number one stressor for the past few weeks. It was tiring yet somehow for the sake of not wanting a glare or side-eye from Zhongli about his stories, which you never thought you’d get that tired of hearing, you kept your mouth shut, despite how hard it was. You knew it would only take so much more, though, before you said something about it. 

[bratbutcute]

A silent pact of silence

Hi! @theanonemu it is I, your secret Santa. I finally revealed myself to gift you… your gift.

Okay I’ll stop it ahah, I hope you have some free time because this fic got LONG.

Just a little reminder: English isn’t my first language, so you might find some grammar mistakes! If so please dm me or comment so I can fix them.

Now let’s dive right in.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Alastor/Lucifer

Prompts: Lovingly wrecking with gentle & light tickles; Character A unknowingly tickling character B who tries to suffer through it but eventually gives way and hijinx ensue;

Disclaimer: other than this is a tickle fic (obviously I’d say) there is nothing more to add to it.

Words count: 4524

Lucifer goes to the library to run away from his worries; he likes being alone there, until Alastor arrives to disrupt his peace. Will they listen to Charlie’s notes and become friends or will their rivalry prevail?

Happy late Christmas, Yule, Hanukkah, Solstice, Kwanzaa, and all the other celebrations happening during these days ❤️

(tagging here you amazing @squealing-santa, thank you so much for your patience and for your amazing organisation. This was my first year participating but I really loved having you as a host)

~~~

“Dear guests I hope you’ll like this library! Read as much as you like but don’t forget to make new friends! -Charlie”

Books or, to be more precise, reading books is something quite unusual in Hell.

Sinners usually enjoy other kinds of activities in their afterlives.

Lucifer has always loved them, since the moment humans came up with the idea of putting words onto paper he's been engrossed by the thought of carrying knowledge in the palm of your hand.

He has read thousands of books, written by humans on Earth - smuggled by those who could go there -, written by sinners in Hell, and he himself has written some of them. Charlie has always loved hearing her father interpret a story by doing different voices and shapeshift to fit the characters.

The Hotel had a rather big library, not the greatest, but it was still a work in progress. A few armchairs and couches were arranged in the center of the room, next to a coffee table with mugs and cute post-its with inspirational quotes on them.

These post-it were scattered everywhere, on the chairs, on the table, between the pages of the books. They were cheesy and sometimes did’t make sense, trying to encourage sinners to discuss about books and share their ideas. Lucifer couldn’t help but smile every time he saw one, thinking about his daughter and her good naive heart.

He found solace in that place.

He went there by chance once, after finding himself wandering around the Hotel trying to run away from the mean words screaming inside his head. After that it had quickly become an habit to go there during the night, past the time when Angeldust or Husker would still be awake, in that limbo halfway between the night and the morning, when the lights of Heaven were still not visible, but they started to peak between the clouds.

It was always quite when he went there.

No thoughts, no worries.

“When you’re feeling lonely, ask for a friend to join you! Having friends is fun! -Charlie”

Night after night Lucifer had been dragging himself into the library, reading books in silence to quite the thoughts screaming into his head. As a result he hadn’t slept in weeks, but on the bright side he also hadn’t had a nightmare in a long while.

Everything was perfect before his little ritual got ruined by none other than Alastor. That bitch.

Alastor was already there when Lucifer arrived. He was standing next to a shelf, hand ready to grab a book when their sights intertwined.

Everything felt static for a second.

Lucifer was about to ask him what the Hell was he doing there, but his mind was too clouded and words felt heavy on his chest. They just proceeded to ignore each other, much to his confusion: that demon was known for loving to mess with him. Why wouldn’t the dear say something?

But he didn’t dwell on it too much though, hoping this would be a once in a lifetime situation

Unfortunately for him he was quickly proven wrong.

The next day Alastor was there, a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, and so the following day and the one after.

Every single night Lucifer wanted a bit of peace, a place to recollect his thoughts, Alastor was there to ruin his evening.

He wouldn’t talk, but he would raise his eyebrows at every book Lucifer chose. He would turn his pages quicker than the king, creating an unspoken competition to finish first.

Lucifer came out of these nights even more exhausted than before, crashing onto the bed and waking up a few hours later, after a dreamless sleep.

“Good actions don’t need words! Try doing something good without taking the credit! -Charlie”

Lucifer had to admit something: having Alastor in the same room while dark thoughts stomped on his head was kind of therapeutic - although he would never say it to the other.

He always managed to distract him, even if it was with childish challenges and mischief, such as changing the place his current book was placed or steal the book the other wanted to read.

Words never left their mouths while they were there. They would stare at each other for a few seconds while entering the room, and then proceed to read in their designated spots: Lucifer on the couch, legs stretched on the coushions, his duck slippers on the floor next to him, and Alastor on the armchair, with his old school red nightclothes on and a tea cup in hand.

Lucifer started to think about those nights of theirs during his day, napping during the afternoon so he would be able to actually enjoy his silent time with the man.

Nothing had changed in front of Charlie or the Hotel crew. They would still bicker and fight like they hated each other, but he couldn’t help but thinking that he felt their arguments less animus than before. There were times he would find Alastor staring at him, his usual grin a bit softer on his lips.

He started looking forward to the night, feeling his heart pounding in his chest before opening the door of their secret place, hoping he wouldn’t be alone.

The reason was simple: he had spent the majority of his existence feeling alone, feeling casted out. The one who fell, the one who asked too many questions, the one who couldn’t handle a family. The one nobody really cared about and that frankly was had stopped caring.

But having someone share his worst moments with was… kind of comforting.

Then again, Alastor was still a peace of shit.

“When others choose to wrong you try confronting them with their actions! You might find that it was a misunderstanding! -Charlie”

It started after one of their fights during the day.

Lucifer wasn’t really sure what they were fighting about, but he could proudly remember how the argument ended: with him making fun of the deer. Angel had laughed, chanting a “Poor Bambi”, a nickname that was usually used by the former heavenly creature but was quickly catching up.

When Lucifer arrived at the library Alastor was already there - that wasn’t uncommon - but he wasn’t in his usual standing position, looking for a new book to devour in a few hours. This time he was in his armchair. Waiting.

Lucifer faltered before entering, a weird uneasy feeling slowly creeping behind his neck. He knew something was about to change.

He barely had time to pick a book and sit before shadows in the room started to morph, trembling and deforming the floor. The lights wobbled as if there was a earthquake (a hellquake?) and Lucifer would have probably screamed if only it hadn’t lasted more than just a few seconds.

Terrified and confused Lucifer stared at Alastor, forcing his mouth to remain shut, and found the sinner grinning ear to ear with pure amusement in his eyes.

As Lucifer started reading, one of those weird dark tentacles darted through the air right in front of the angel’s face, making him jump on the couch and drop his book. Needless to say Alastor was beaming in his place on the armchair. His stupid cup still in his hand, held with his pinky finger up.

Lucifer’s eye started to twitch. He wasn’t going to be the one breaking their pact of silence - ironic how that agreement was made… silently.

Alastor’s shadow retreated quickly with a book, only to dart back again, this time taking the most inconvenient road, purposefully knocking Lucifer’s book again the second he picked it up.

This did get a silent sight out of the king of Hell.

But the demon did not care enough to take his eyes off the tome.

This new annoying habit seemed to amuse Alastor a lot since he started to do it every single time they were there: Lucifer would arrive, think that nothing was wrong only to find a dark shadow scaring both Heaven and Hell out of him.

Three nights in a row and Lucifer was done with this.

He was the King of Hell, he was a powerful and fearful being: he was going to show it to that pompous prick.

When the tendril flew in front of him he moved quickly, grabbing the shadow with one hand, his eyes turning red and fire sparkling between his horns.

The movement was so fast that Alastor was caught off guard, but he was definitely impressed.

His cheeks burned bright as his smile trembled.

Since that day he never tried to use his shadows again.

“Hug someone today! Only after they agreed. Consent is important! -Charlie”

After the event nothing really changed, other than a small, but definitely important thing: they started greeting each other with a smile. Which wasn’t unusual for Alastor, since his smile was always shown on his face, but it felt as if that mask was slowly crumbling down.

Not only this, but Lucifer started looking forward to that smile, to that small act of kindness and intimacy the two of them shared.

And then one night came the touching.

Lucifer had seen Alastor touch pretty much every single hotel guest. Squeezing shoulders, pinching cheeks, being affectionate in a mocking kind of way, always using either his hands or his shadows to assert his dominance. And the king of Hell hated that behaviour: Alastor didn’t care if he crossed a boundary, he showed everybody that he could do whatever he wanted with them, regardless of their comfort.

The first time Lucifer and Alastor shook hands the latter cleaned it right after, so you can imagine how surprised and confused Lucifer found himself when Alastor decided to sit next to him, grazing their legs together.

His stomach churned and his head turned immediately to stare at the demon.

Alastor didn’t talk - again, nothing unusual for them in that room - but his smile twitched a bit.

Was he making fun of him? Was he trying to distract him from one of his schemes? Was he trying to get him back from the shadow situation?

The touch lasted a few seconds before Alastor repositioned himself, crossing one leg over the other, one foot making contact with Lucifer’s leg.

The king was so confused he didn’t flip a single page the entire night.

“Be sweet, be kind, be good! -Charlie”

Alastor started being more and more intimate with Lucifer.

He started offering him his tea by preparing two cups before the king arrived. He covered him with a blanket whenever he fell asleep on the couch.

It stopped being subtle when the cuddling started.

It had already been a few nights of sitting one next to the other, thighs or feet touching and eyes wandering over each other. The deer would casually touch him by grazing his hands, or by putting his hand on the king’s tight as a leverage to stand up.

But one evening his hand simply remained on the king’s leg. Fingers slowly moving. Before Lucifer could react Alastor was caressing him, as if they had been friends for their entire lives.

It lasted a few seconds - as soon as Lucifer’s brain registered the warmth it was already gone.

His heart was pounding in his chest, butterflies flapping their wings in his stomach. He felt lightheaded.

Whenever Alastor showed signs of kindness he felt like a young angel again, experiencing emotions for the very first time.

He’d find himself with golden cheeks and shaking hands.

And one night, after thinking about it the entire day, he finally made his move.

Alastor was already in the library, sitting down on the couch, nose buried in a book, his ears twitching every now and then, as if they were part of the action written on the pages.

Lucifer took a couple of breaths, trying to calm his nerves as he found the courage to sit down and take Alastor’s hand.

The action was very… awkward.

They stayed there in silence, staring at each other’s eyes while holding hands as if it was their first interaction since being created.

When he realised the absurdity of the situation his cheeks became golden. He tried to stand up again, ready to leave the room but Alastor tightened his grip.

He tilted his head as the touch morphed.

Alastor intertwined their fingers as nothing weird was happening.

Lucifer felt like falling for perdition all over again.

“Laughter is the best medicine! Laughing with your friends is the best antibiotic! -Charlie”

Six months had passed since the first time the two creatures had found themselves reading together.

Six months and nothing had changed: the hotel members still thought they hated each others - although Angel started whispering about the weird intense looks they sometimes exchanged.

Six months and, at the same time, everything was different.

Alastor and Lucifer had started by pestering each other every day and were now cuddling on the couch, Alastor’s hand scratching the king’s back, as the man had his head on the other’s lap.

They both pretended to read, but they would spend the majority of time plotting the next move, plying a game of chess to become more and more intimate.

Six months and not a single word had really left their lips. Until that day.

Alastor’s fingers were being gentle on the man’s soft pyjamas, soothing the skin underneath.

A bit too delicate for Lucifer’s taste.

Goosebumps were starting to form on his back and a maddening sensation was making him uneasy.

Al’s nails circled around the middle of the back, running up and down, switching between one finger and all four.

Lucifer was holding on, concentrating on not making a sound, focusing entirely on keeping his mouth shut.

He twitched when he felt the sensation move closer to his side. He gulped down some air and the bit his lips.

Alastor was reading, not realising the torture the other man was enduring. He was absentmindedly cuddling him, too focused on the words he was reading to notice the torture his ‘friend’ was enduring.

His fingers found the softness of Lucifer’s sides.

The king lost his battle.

A single uncontrollable giggle. So desperate to leave his lips, so cruel, so… liberating.

It was the first time Lucifer had made an actual sound in that place.

Alastor’s ears turned and his interest peaked.

His mouth opened, as to comment, but then he closed it, an evil grin on his face as soon as he realised what was happening.

This was interesting.

Lucifer’s eyes widened. He wanted to scream but he couldn’t. He tried to sit down but Lucifer’s fingers travelled back to his skin, scratching and caressing teasingly his sides.

Lucifer put his hand on his mouth, feeling the giggles build up in his throat. His legs started shaking, his torso twitching, anything to stop the sensation.

He slowly lowered his hand, his mouth ready to talk for the first time but when the other demon realised what was happening he stopped immediately his attack.

He got a bit closer, breathing Lucifer’s air, and he out a finger on his pale lips.

So this was how it had to be: defeat at first word.

Lucifer gulped loudly.

Alastor’s fingers went back to work, ready to pinch his sides but the only thing they found was air and dust.

In a puff of glitter Lucifer transformed into a snake - he was still Lucifer Morningstar, the most proud being ever created, if he could run away from this humiliation he would - but Alastor reacted quickly and one of his shadows manifested around his tail, snatching him off the floor. He transformed back into his demon form, dangling upside down with his foot held by the tentacle. His face morphed into a “Are you kidding me?” kind of expression.

Alastor left his place from the couch, facing his victim. He looked composed - as always - but a glint of mischief shined in his eyes.

He was going to destroy him. Lucifer shivered as he watched Alastor’s hands caressing the air around his body, not picking a particular spot, but letting him suffer through his indecision. As Lucifer started to thrash around, thinking about how to run away again his shirt rose up and Alastor eyed his midriff with interest. Lucifer’s mind panicked so hard that he transformed into a bird and immediately tried to fly away.

But again, his opponent was very determined.

He reappeared right in front of the door - his only way out other than the very closed window - with a wider and more menacing grin. Lucifer crashed right into him, reappearing as his usual form in a cloud of sparkles.

Alastor didn’t leave him a single second to think this time, trapping his wrists with one of his dark shadows and heading them above his head.

His stomach was again in a very vulnerable position, since his shirt had risen from all the tossing around. He had a trembling smile on his face, giggles almost leaving his lips just because he could feel Alastor stare at his body.

Probably because of this expectation he would have never anticipated fingers gently caressing one of his underarms.

Lucifer gasped and a weak groan left his throat. The touch was gentle, delicate, the fingertips tenderly swirling on his armpit. And it was so, so, devious. He started drumming his feet on the floor.

His mind kept repeating a series of “no no no no” and “okay okay okay” that he would have said out loud to distract himself hadn’t there been that stupid game of silence between them.

Lucifer tried to think of all the way he could turn the tables, tried to think how to attack him but he lost it when Al started tickling his other armpit too.

His giggles started dancing around them, uncontrollable. He couldn’t run away, he couldn’t ask for him to stop: he could only laugh.

Alastor grin widened, but he didn’t change the pace of his attack: he was going to be ruthless and methodical.

As the fingers teased his armpits, two dark shadows descended on his ribs, tracing small circles on the bones, making the fallen angel hiccup with laughter.

Lucifer really lost his battle, twisting his body to run away, too busy laughing to concentrate on shapeshifting. It was unbearable, a slow torture he knew he couldn’t endure by just letting himself laugh.

To confirm his suspicions, the moment Alastor brushed a single finger on his stomach he really gave up.

«Wahahaait!»

The room fell silent again. Alastor stopped moving. Lucifer stopped laughing. The books seemed frozen on their shelves, and the air was eager to listen to words.

«Your majesty,» it wasn’t an insult, but it wasn’t meant as a title. The king’s brain stopped working as a goldish blush dusted his cheeks. He was not expecting those words and he was not expecting to react that way. «we’re in a library. Noise should be kept at a minimum.»

Okay, he was going to kill Alastor.

Sweet golden laughter poured out of the angelic creature as the demon attacked his stomach. His fingers caressed his navel, pinched his sides, walked around his skin.

He was so light that Lucifer felt conflicted about what to feel, as if this wasn’t a kind of torture to him but was a weird act of kindness.

«Alastohohohor-» he got lost in his laughter. Giggles and high pitched squeals echoed in the darkness of the room. He realised his hands were free to move the moment he found them holding onto Alastor’s wrists, not quite pushing him away, not quite remaining still. He wasn’t sure about what he wanted to do.

«Ahahahahl» he put one hand on his mouth only to slam it back again as a tendril attacked him on the armpit. He laughed louder, feeling every part of his being ticklish.

It felt embarrassing. It felt private. But it felt… safe.

They were alone in their personal room where no one could bother them.

He giggled louder: «Ahahahahllll! I- ihihi- I demand you to stohohohop!».

Alastor grinned.

«Why should I? My king didn’t seem to mind my hands on his body before.»

«Ahahahahalasthohohor!»

«What my dear? Isn’t that true?»

Lucifer dissolved in another fit of laughter as Alastor lovely pinched every bit of skin he could find from his sides to the middle of his navel.

As hiccups started to leave the king’s lips the tickling slowed down.

«Have you had enough my dear?»

Lucifer could only nod, titters leaving his throat.

Red lights stared shining through the window.

Lucifer sighed, laughter tinted on his lips. He stared at Alastor: he looked bright, shining of a unique and mischievous light that only he could radiate.

They were very close, Alastor on him, hands holding him still. Lucifer’s skin was still sensitive, at every little movement he felt like starting giggling again.

Their faces were few inches apart, so close they could feel the warmth of each other’s breath.

Lucifer found himself staring at the other’s lips; only to realise he wasn’t the only one.

It felt as if they were getting closer, as if he could taste Alastor’s lips had he only moved a bit.

«I guess I will see you tomorrow my dear.»

And just like that he was gone

“You can find friends everywhere! Even at the library! Ask the person next to you what are they reading! Who knows what might happen! - Charlie”

That night Lucifer arrived at the library before Al.

He arrived before midnight. Angel and Husk were still at the counter, chatting and giggling together. They greeted him, but he was too distracted to care.

He sat on the couch, twisting his hands and waited.

When Alastor arrived the king was so nervous he could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

He immediately stood up, eager to talk right away, but Alastor went straight to the shelves, picking a book up.

Lucifer was confused to say the least.

Alastor sat down and started to flip pages as if nothing had happened between them the day before. When he picked his cup up Lucifer became furious.

«Are you kidding me?»

The sound of the king’s voice made Alastor jump. He probably thought that their pact of silence was back on because he looked confused.

«Is there anything wrong sir?»

Lucifer was fuming.

«I thought-» he shook his head and tried again «We���ve been coming here for six months. You’re the one who started messing with me. I came here just to read in peace and you-» he had to take a moment to recompose.

«I was fine. Then you arrived and disrupted my peace. You started to get closer and at first I thought it was to mock me but then… it seemed like you cared.»

Alastor sat there, staring.

«I thought you were starting to like me. I know in front of everybody you were your usual bitch self but- but here, here you were sweet and kind and.. and you started getting closer, touching me, putting your hand on my shoulder and- and yesterday I thought..» he put his fingers in his hair.

«Yesterday I felt something. And I know you felt it too because you were giving me that weird specific smile you have when you are actually happy and.. and now you just sit there, drinking your stupid tea and reading your stupid book as if nothing happened. And you have the courage to ask me if there is something wrong?»

Lucifer was out of breath, hands shaking.

It took the deer a few seconds to take it all in. Then he slowly closed his book, put his cup down and got up.

«Six months ago I came here to annoy you.» he began «Charlie told me that she was worried about you and asked me to check on you, as if I was some kind of nurse. My original plan was to hide every book you were reading.» he softly smiled avoiding the other’s eyes.

«But then when I saw you the first night you arrived... You looked miserable my dear. Charlie was right, I just couldn’t take advantage of a helpless puppy like that.» he tried to joke around his feelings, but the nickname didn’t feel derogatory as probably intended.

Alastor stood up and turned himself towards the books. He talked slowly, but each word was tinted with honesty.

«I decided to keep you company, to keep an eye on you so that if I helped you you’d be in debt. But then you started being… you again. After a few nights of pestering you I saw your face changing, I saw your smile coming back. And I found myself waiting for those moments.» he sighed facing Lucifer who was so shocked he didn’t know how to react.

«I am- I am sorry for hurting your feelings: that was not my intention.» his sight finally met Lucifer’s «But I wasn’t toying with you. Even if it started like that: adter all it was endearing to see you embarrassed.» Lucifer rolled his eyes at that.

«But I soon realised I wasn’t just having fun though: I was seeking out these meetings. Suddenly I found myself thinking about you during the day. Hoping we would fight so I could spend more time with you.»

Alastor feelings were shining around them now, dancing through the space between their bodies.

«It took me a while to understand and accept what was happening. And then yesterday when you were adorned with the most beautiful smile I felt something I thought I would never feel. Something resembling… more than just affection.» he whispered.

Lucifer felt himself moving without being able to control the motion. His hands brushed Alastor’s hands and their eyes locked just like the first day there.

Their library. Their sacred and demonic place. The only room that saw them as friends.

Everything felt so distant, but so alive, buzzing with energy.

Alastor took his hands, but Lucifer was the one who closed the gap between their lips.

All those days spent bickering, arguing over stupid shit, fighting one against the other, only to be defeated by a small environment full of books.

The kiss was small, soft, more than just brushing their lips, intense but not overwhelming. It was everything Lucifer needed to remind him how to breathe, how to feel, how to live.

It tasted like rivalry and play, like mischief and honesty. It simply tasted like them.

They smiled at each other, Lucifer’s hands shaking.

«Shall we go back to our readings my dear?» Alastor asked. He seemed composed as always but a hint of blush was dusted on his cheeks.

«Yeah, of course.»

Before leaving, Lucifer found a new little note on the table. This time it wasn’t on the usual yellow post-it.

Charlie’s words were written on a heart shaped red card.

He smiled before leaving the room.

“May this library always bring joy and love to whoever needs it.

P.s. love you dad

-Charlie”

~~~

This message is for AnonEmu. I really hope you like this fic, I swear I tried to honour your prompts, and I hope the length of the it didn’t scare you.

When I first read your pairings I thought about writing for a lee!Alastor ler!Vox fic but honestly I’m so happy I changed my mind.

Trying to write a cute, fluffy and lovingly tickle scene between two of the characters that hate each other the most was challenging, but this gave me the opportunity to actually focus on the story and not just the tickling part, which I realise it’s quite short, but I really hope you can still appreciate it.

The characters are probably a bit OOC but I swear I tried to give them at least the right vibes.

Having said that, I really have to thank you AnonEmu, I really want to thank you for your prompts, and I really really really want to thank @cantsaythetword. You’ve been an amazing host, you’ve done so much and you deserve all the love and recognition in the world.

Now you probably wont see or hear from me for a few months, but I wanted to thank all the people who reblog, comment or like my art and writing.

You make me proud of my work.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unorthodox 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you bring order to the disordered life of Captain Syverson.

Characters: Captain Syverson, this reader is known as Izzie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

����Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Conrad kisses your hand before you go. It’s enough to make you roll your eyes but you maintain your veneer. As it is, you’re more worried about your boss. Sy hasn’t quit huffing and puffing all night. Usually, a good meal puts him in a good mood but not this time. 

“So,” you open the folder Conrad handed over. “I think it’s a good deal. Almost a partnership, which you know, we could use some consistency.” 

Sy grumbles but doesn’t answer as you head down the hall. He drags his feet as the caftan flaps around your hips. The sleek fabric sends chills through you. You stop at the first corner. 

“Wanna point me in the direction?” You prompt. He points, head down, and traipses beside you. You frown. “Sy, what’s going on?” 

He growls and shakes his head. He sniffs and rubs his nose, “nothin’.” 

“Right.” You accept dryly, “I’ll give it a look over tonight, you should too--” 

“You know, I think you look good.” He says abruptly. “In that dress thingy you got on. Wasn’t meanin’ it earlier, just playin’, you know?” 

You arch a brow at him as you slow. You glance around again. You’re really lost in this maze of hallways. “Alright, Sy,” you chuckle, “it’s fine. It’s not exactly my style.” 

“Just wanted you to know, Iz.” 

“Mhm, got it.” 

“He talks a lot.” Sy stops and taps a door. You think it’s yours? “Worked together back in the service days. He always had some local gal on the hook. Interpreter. He could chatter all night. And he did.” 

You eye him and giggle. You can’t believe him. Does he really think so little of you? 

“This is business. I’m working, right now, Sy. I have no interest in Conrad. Not beyond this.” You wave the folder. 

“Well, I know that.” He rubs his neck and looks away bashfully. “Wouldn’t expect that of ya, just warnin’ ya. He can be convincin’.” 

“I thought he was an old friend.” 

“He is, but don’t mean I agree with all his ways.” He shrugs and crosses his arms. 

You hug the folder, “thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. Now, I need to lay down. I’m exhausted.” 

“Yeah, me too.”  

He turns and opens the door. He pushes it inward and waves you in. You enter and stifle a yawn, your eyes wetting at the corners. You lay the file down and a shadow moves along the edge of your vision. 

The door shuts behind Sy. On the wrong side. 

“What are you doing?” You scoff. 

“Oh, uh... habit. We usually share, don’t we?” 

“Yeah, when all we got is a backseat. Not to be rude, but you snore like a hog.” You snip. 

“Ah, yeah, well, I told ya to poke me.” 

“Yeah, I tried that. Sy, please.” You put your palms out. “We could both use a good night’s sleep.” 

“Sorry, I... I’m tired. Wasn’t thinkin’ straight,” he chuckles. A grizzly noise. “See ya in the mornin’ then.” 

“You too,” you nearly sigh in relief. 

You wait for him to go before you can relax. You sit down at the small table and resume your review. You should just lay down but you don’t know what he has in mind for tomorrow. Could be another plane ride, could be nothing. 

When at last you sleep, it’s deep and undisturbed by the bump of the axel or the rumble of a snoring beast. You dream of your old office job and angry printers. You even dream that you’re late for a boardroom meeting only to be awoken by a pounding at the door. 

“Izzie!” Sy’s roar shakes you awake.  

You nearly fall out of bed in your scramble. Your vision is bleary and your head is heavy. Your bearings are all scattered as you stumble across the room. You pull open the door to find your boss on the other side. 

“Brrg, what time is it?” Your tongue is uncooperative as you speak. Maybe you had a bit more wine than you thought. 

“Huh, uh,” Sy’s face turns red and he runs his hand over his beard and coughs. His eyes flick down then side-to-side. “Uh, it’s... it’s only nine. I—I—Iz.”  

He points down and you look at your body. Shit. You only remember stripping off the caftan and falling face first into the bed. No bother for your sports bra or boy shorts. Thank god you didn’t get that comfortable. 

“Ah damn, sorry, Sy.” You close the door and retreat. 

You pull open your bag and fish out your usual; leggings and long-sleeved tee, a zip-up to go over it. You roll your socks on and tie your boots, snatching up your vest as you breeze back to the door. As you pull it inward, Sy sways and peers in shyly. 

“Got everything?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you loop the vest on one arm as you tie a bandana around your hair. “I was passed out. Sorry. Haven’t slept like that in years.” 

“Ain’t no worry.” His cheeks are still pink. His eyes keep scouring up and down. 

“Stop that.” You punch his arm as you step into the hall. “Oh, wait.” 

“Shouldn’t need your vest,” he says. 

“Oh,” you toss it on the bed as you swipe up the folder. “Well, got my notes.” 

You come back out and nearly collide with him. He moves around you awkwardly. He hovers like your shadow and you grab his arm to guide him. 

“Sy, what’s up?” You chide. 

“N-nothing. I just--” He huffs out through his nose. “Was worried ‘bout ya. You’re usually gettin’ me up, is all.” 

[blackberrysummerblog]

Hi all! I’m just out here being three weeks late with my 2024 Writing Round-Up, and thank you so much to @monbons, @forabeatofadrum, @confused-bi-queer, @rimeswithpurple, @nausikaaa, @prettygoododds, @ileadacharmedlife, @artsyunderstudy, @best--dress, @j-nipper-95, @roomwithanopenfire, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @imagineacoolusername, @mooncello, and @thewholelemon for tagging me! I hope I didn’t miss anyone, and thank you as well to everyone who’s been tagging me for Six Sentence Sunday and WIP Wednesday this month. Without getting too much into it, I am BURNT. OUT, and it’s making me retreat from even the things I enjoy the most, like writing and catching up on everyone’s beautiful fandom works.

But, I’m determined to make this round-up post, even if it takes me a couple of days to put together. There’s a lot here! Almost all of it was from COC, which I was hellbent on finishing this year, and did! Here’s the list, in chronological order, of all published writing for 2024:

The Field Trap, 1/2 (5272, M) This has been sitting unfinished for a bit, but I do anticipate it being completed. I discovered a real love for Watford-era fics toward the end of the past year, but it probably all began for me two years ago when I wrote Field Trip of Dreams, the prequel to Field Trap. At any rate, I haven’t forgotten the fic, and Field Trap may end up with an E rating in the second chapter.

Time Will Lie Down and Be Still (26,201, M) This is the fic I’m most proud of this year. It’s the result of my COBB collab with @rimeswithpurple, and it’s been such an inspiration to work with Arianna! I highly recommend the experience :D This fic has 3/5 chapters published so far, and I’m getting there with the 4th. I’ll share that Arianna finished the art for Chapter 4 the other day and it is STUNNING, so I need to get my part done! For anyone who doesn’t know, the fic is a retelling of the movie Practical Magic (I’ve never been able to get very far in the book, for whatever reason, so I wouldn’t count on the fic lining up with it). This one is close to my heart for many reasons, but I’ve especially enjoyed building Dev’s character and his relationship with Baz.

Absolutely everything else I published was for COC, and I’ll put it below a cut due to length. Thanks to everyone who read my work this year! As always, the output of this fandom is just incredible, and I’ve enjoyed being able to take it in as well as contribute a little myself. Happy New Year, everyone!

Something Old (1146, T) Simon finds something unexpected while clearing out space in the wardrobe.

Chosen (880, G) Agatha and Simon have just begun dating and Philippa attempts to engage her in a little friendly roommate squee. Agatha isn’t quite so sure.

I Hate You, Never Leave Me (2339, M) Simon and Baz have found a new and better way to settle their differences, by getting each other off all over campus. Will it evolve into anything more, however? (I love this one, honestly. Might have to someday write a more extensive version)

Greek (1565, T) Simon has to keep a very close eye on Baz in Greek class, for reasons.

Let Me See You (1205, T) Simon is the one to find Baz draining a deer in the forest instead of Agatha. His reaction is not what either of them was expecting.

Truth or Dare (2608, T) Does what it says on the tin—the gang play a game of Truth or Dare, and the dares reveal a little more truth than anyone expected. (Definitely not a groundbreaking take on the prompt, but I never really tire of reading truth or dare fics, and hoped readers would feel the same :P)

Gently, Gently (668, M) Simon and Baz spend the morning in bed, skiving off class and not regretting it at all. (I came to realize that an embarrassing number of fics I write either start out with the boys waking up in bed or that is the entire premise of the fic. “Waking up” is a weird fetish to have, but OK me, I guess)

Looking for Knives, Looking for You (1181, T) Baz reflects on all the wounds he and Simon have given each other over the years. (Despite the vicious sounding title and depressing summary, this one was meant to be sort of cute and sweet)

Hold You Safe (1015, G) At the start of Eighth Year, Dev and Niall’s relationship is still very new as they get some bad news from home.

Dinner (Guess Who’s Coming) (3525, T) It’s half term, and Baz’s parents want to take him to dinner. They invite him to bring a friend, but unfortunately for Malcolm, he pisses Baz off first, and Baz decides his guest will be Simon—the Mage’s heir, his family’s mortal enemy, and Baz’s undying secret crush. (As with nearly all my COC offerings this year, this fic was knocked out during my lunch break the day of, and it shows. It really could have stood to be longer and more developed, so maybe I’ll revisit it one day, since I did like the premise)

Stay with Me (878, T) It’s Eighth Year and Simon gets home late and injured from a mission. Baz arrives at a resolution. (I was a little baffled to get a comment about the Mage already being dead, since this fic takes place during the school year and makes mention of a very much alive Mage in multiple places. It was more of a statement than a criticism though, I think.)

A Charmed Life (1449, E) Baz and Simon have an utterly normal morning getting frisky in bed. (Again. Huh.)

A Horse Named Jane (736, T) Simon has that song stuck in his head again. The one Baz can’t stand. They work out a (sort of) compromise.

Sour and Sweet (3060, G) It’s Baz’s birthday and Agatha has just given Simon his walking papers. Oh no :P However, the breakup does little to lift Baz’s spirits. (This one has two chapters and filled two prompts, sour and sweet, natch. Chapter two’s summary is: Simon decides he needs to make something sweet for Baz’s birthday, even though he’s two days late and doesn’t know how to bake. Well, he’s got magic at his disposal, so things are sure to turn out just fine. :P)

Punk (828, T) Baz is making Simon join him for lunch with Fiona again, but Simon figures he’ll debut a new look & attitude. Will they actually make it to the restaurant? (I really enjoyed writing this one. Simon being frustrated with Fiona’s behavior and still being silly with Baz about it was just a happy place for me)

Surprise (733, M) Simon and Baz are engaging in one of their classic Mummers’ House tiffs. What will happen? :P (I did write a little surprise into this one, but it was very much in keeping with some of my favorite themes)

Cast in Fire (791, G) Simon comes to Watford and learns about how his roommate will be chosen.

Fluff and Nonsense (1627, T) The prompt is ‘fluff’ and did I once again take the opportunity to write a light-on-plot secret relationship fic about Watford-era Simon and Baz being cozy and silly in bed? Yeah, I might have. Simon is going home with Baz over the Christmas break. Not a lot going on here, they’re just really comfy and in love.

Pieces of Me (1557, M) Baz has been having nightmares. Simon comforts him and encourages him to open up.

The World Was Open (956, T) Agatha and Niamh attend Simon and Baz’s wedding, and Agatha overhears another guest making a snide remark.

Find Me (2374, M) Eighth year at Watford was unremarkable, and Simon and Baz last saw each other when they graduated. Seven months later, Dev and Niall drag a pining and protesting Baz out to a club for a night of drinking and dancing, but there’s a familiar face behind the bar. Simon Snow is serving drinks, and worse, he’s flirting with a Baz lookalike. What will happen :P (This was yet another fic that could have been developed a little more, but I was still happy with the result overall)

Warm Spell (1795, M) Goatherd Simon has been almost-encountering a beautiful stranger for several weeks now, but one hot summer day, they finally meet.

Lost and Found (575, G) The boys go shopping together and Baz temporarily loses Simon, but it’s all pretty plot-free :P

Truce (1101, M) Simon pesters Baz while he’s trying to study, and needs to learn a lesson. Will they be able to call a truce? (This one was where the trouble began—I changed my settings to allow comments from unregistered users, because I like to fuck around and find out, I suppose. And find out I did! Luckily, the rude comment I received took aim at some writing element that didn’t even make sense for this particular fic, and I quickly realized it was a bot. Not long after, I started getting comments on other fics as well, all very nonspecific to the fandom, characters, and genre. I’m so sorry because I know it upset a few readers who were very kind to clap back and reassure me, and I changed my settings back so that it wouldn’t happen again.)

Savour (1189, T) Simon has been away on one of his missions for the Mage, and Baz has been awaiting his return by leaving out plates of food in their room every night. (Bot’s review: “the worst fic in the fandom”. It’s not even the worst fic in my own oeuvre, so joke’s on you, guy XD)

We Were Always Together (2239, T) During cotillion class, Simon is forced to dance with Baz. The horror! (I flipping loved writing this. Full on had a blast and Would Write Again)

Let It Snow (925, M) It’s almost time for Christmas break at Watford, and it may not turn out as the boys planned. However, thanks to a spell gone wrong (or very right) it may yet work out for the best :P

Always (551, G) It’s Christmas Eve and Baz has just finished putting the kids to bed. Simon is putting the finishing touches on the Christmas tree.

Something New (990, T) Simon and Baz have a little tiff near the end of eighth year, but it’s not fated to last long. I’ve written a lot of secret!relationship Watford era fics for COC this year, some that could go together and some that were in separate universes. It’s been so much fun to write about the boys sneaking around, but this is…something new. :P (In which I was very pleased with myself for how I wrapped things up in accordance with the prompt. I really, really enjoyed COC this year :D)

Thanks for reading! I’m sure most everyone has already made their own round-up posts, but consider these no-pressure tags and hellos: @valeffelees @stardustasincocaine @bookish-bogwitch @facewithoutheart @c0nsumemy5oul @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists @tender-ministrations @basiltonbutliketheherb @ghostpepperworld @larkral @letraspal @cows4247 @fiend-for-culture @palimpsessed @hushed-chorus @shrekgogurt @raenestee @cutestkilla @drowninginships @youarenevertooold @iamamythologicalcreature @beastmonstertitan @ic3-que3n @supercutedinosaurs @stitchy-queerista @alexalexinii @asocialpessimist @shutup-andletme-go @prettygoododds @ivelovedhimthroughworse @j-nipper-95 @wellbelesbian @bookishbroadwayandblind @orange-peony @papierhaikuphoto @martsonmars

[eddiegettingshot]

Tbh I was radicalized this summer when you said we have progressed past the need for eddie therapy spec and fics. i havent read a single one since and probably wont again and my life has been so peaceful since… he literally does not need that. He just needs to feel secure and open with his feelings, needs to let people love him fully, and maybe some grief counselling/a support group to go to occasionally. If frank was going to help with that he would have in s3. (no offence to people who write/read therapy fics Im sure they are wonderful and profound and frank is actually good at his job in them)

helpppp good. thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about my beloathed therapy eddie because i think it’s so so so funny that after 8x06 the predictable response was that eddie needs to go to therapy. which i feel like there are soooo many things happening on both the character and the story level. like what’s funny is that frank really could not be a good therapist on screen because that’s not interesting tv. i’m not a therapist but i imagine that in fear-o-phobia he should have probably like. worked with eddie to decide on who he’d try to contact, figure out how the conversation might go, work on coping strategies, etc. but obviously eddie had to blow up. it’s funny because all of the other presumably “good” work frank does is completely off screen. because it’s uninteresting. so eddie wouldn’t have the kind of therapy arc people think he should have anyway, it’s quite literally just something people demand because they need a virtue signal that eddie is “trying” (and of course therapy is the only picture of “trying to heal”). the fact that he’s growing and dealing with stuff outside of therapy is like, not acceptable i guess? i think it’s also funny that as far as fic goes eddie is pretty much always in therapy but it is truly once in a blue moon that we see buck or really any other character talk about therapy.

anyway on the character level. obviously people who relate to eddie’s experience might find therapy really useful but i am not talking about real people i’m talking about a character who is fake. something that is very funny and interesting to me is that in the fear-o-phobia scene eddie is pretty much being resistant and mean and a bitch the whole time but when frank says “you can’t put all your feelings in a box eddie because someday it’ll blow up” and eddie literally already knows what’s going on (“…and take me with it”). actually eddie pretty much always knows what’s going on when he’s having issues it’s just he packs it all down. so seeing a character like this do the internal pathologized work of therapy with just. A Therapist. is… soooo boring to me. it’s funny because i do think frank was right. like in the end i think it’s sort of indicated that eddie is not only feeling this survivor’s guilt/pointlessness but that he also fears he’s going to end up like all the other people who share his pain. so he does need that sort of external pathway to dealing with his issues, like… exactly what you said… leaning on the people in his life… loving them and letting them love him… perhaps a support group or volunteering or whatever… in terms of an actual story these things are soooo much cooler and more fun than what therapy stuff can offer eddie specifically (like… strategies? identifying various cognitive distortions? idk). because he’s already a character who’s always in his head… it’s so much better. To Me. to see him work through things in other ways. such as by talking to a gay priest.

[petit-etoile]

🪡how about a cute fic where astarion fixes up one of Tavs shirts and they realise they like each other or something heheee

here  is  my  hand  that  will  not  harm  you

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount:  1,110 content warnings:  none other tags:  canon compliant, introspection, character study, developing relationship, love confessions, getting together, gender neutral tav, human!tav archiveofourown: here.

tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, @ghosts-and-ink, @b4um3pfl4um3, @gunslingerorchid, @hypopxia be added to the taglist here

summary:  Astarion repairs your clothes, and you can no longer keep a secret.

There is something Astarion is not telling you. You can tell in the way he slouches in his chair, his hands busy with the work he took upon himself, that there is something troubling him. Learning what Cazador’s scarring says has put a damper on his mood and everyone else’s, and now you’re all caught between procrastination and pushing on to the Moonrise Towers.

The Orthon fight took a lot out of you. Your armor took quite the beating, and afterwards with the rats… You’re glad to be staying at the Last Light Inn for one more evening. Everyone is resting before the fight tomorrow, and you’re relieved. You get one more night to sleep in a bed. The darkness of the Shadow-Curse is beginning to lift thanks to Halsin and Thaniel, and the shine of Dame Aylin’s excellence has caused Isobel to bask for hours on the balcony in self-imposed giddy isolation. It’s almost normal given the circumstances.

‘What do you think Gale is going to make for supper?’ you ask absentmindedly, turning the page of your raunchy smut novel.

Astarion hums in contemplation. You rest the novel you borrowed from him on your stomach and peer over at him. He insisted you take the bed after you arrived, and now he sits next to you biting his lip and cursing as he fusses over your chainmail. It’s quaint.

‘Hopefully just wine,’ he says with a snort. ‘We’ll need all the liquid bravery we can get.’

‘Do vampires get drunk?’

‘Certainly,’ he says. ‘A willing body drinks the wine, a willing vampire drinks the blood, and then they’re both willingly shit-faced.’

The thought of Astarion stumbling around drunk off your blood makes you laugh. It almost reminds you of how silly he was after devouring a bear, and you quietly begin manifesting that Astarion is right and Gale honors the tradition. You cozy down into the sheets and pat the book over your stomach as it growls.

‘Oh, fuck it!’ Astarion snaps suddenly.

He doesn’t fling your armor down as much as he seems determined to strangle it to death. There’s thread tangled around his fingers and his feet, and he’s pushing the needle back in his mouth as he fusses with a strap. He growls like an angry kitten and rubs at his brow in frustration.

‘What’s wrong?’ you ask nervously.

‘What’s wrong?’ he echoes, annoyed. ‘What’s wrong is that your armor is shit! To send you out there wearing it is basically wishing death upon you. It’s absurd how long you’ve worn this thing.’

You frown. It’s not exactly your favorite chest piece you’ve ever had, but you’ve worn it since the Underdark and haven’t found a suitable replacement. Then again, you hadn’t really asked Dammon when you arrived… You didn’t want to bother him as he was working on Karlach’s heart, and there was so much to do…

‘You can’t   —  You can’t go out there and fight everyone’s battles in armor held together by twigs and prayers,’ Astarion sniffs delicately. ‘I can repair it sparingly, of course, but… I wouldn’t feel good about it. It isn’t safe enough.’

‘What would you have me wear, then?’ you ask. ‘Perhaps there’s some additional armor somewhere in storage.’

‘This leather belt here is salvageable,’ he explains, showing you the damage from too many spells. ‘The chain mail will hold another fight, but…’

Something possesses you. You lean in, too close to his face, and watch as he runs his fingers over torn edges. He cares. About you. It takes you by surprise even though it shouldn’t. But Astarion doesn’t fuss this way over his own armor, just yours.

You look over his handiwork. You’ve seen it before in his clothes, his favorite sleep shirt, some of his socks, his gloves. He even repaired Karlach’s armor when she first joined. His hands are lithe and strong, and he works without too much thought like it’s second nature for him. Something about it is so bone-crushingly domestic that you can’t help but want to touch his hand. You cling to your book instead.

‘You’re good at this,’ you say.

‘Well, I’ve had quite a bit of experience,’ Astarion confesses. He smiles faintly at your praise. ‘Back at Cazador’s, I … I had a family I took care of. Sometimes they’d fight one another, and I’d fix little rips and tears. Learning to fix armor is a bit new, but none too difficult.’

‘Did you have many siblings?’

‘I had plenty,’ Astarion says. ‘I didn’t like them all. But I like you, so bring me all your clothes and I’ll fix them right up. I won’t even make you ask.’

You give in. You reach a single, curious finger towards his hand and slide it across the back of his knuckles. You take in the rise and fall of his hand, the smoothness of his skin, and the veins. He flexes his fingers beneath your hand and then, without saying a word, he turns his hand over so that he can hold yours. He muses over the connection and presses his fingertips to your pulse.

Gandrel, The Orthon, Raphael’s Deal. It goes without saying there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. You want to tell him, but the thought of saying it made you nervous. You hold your tongue. But if there was to be a fight at the Moonrise Towers, you wanted him to know. It plagues you too much that you start to stretch, so much so that you’re afraid to speak lest you start rambling on and on about how beautiful his eyes are and how you can’t stop looking at him and how he takes your breath away.

There’s no one else you want to have to fight by your side, but it isn’t just that. There’s no one else you want.

Carefully, as though you are more fragile than you truly are, Astarion removes your hand from his to continue fussing over your armor. The feeling of his hand still lingers on your skin, and it makes your stomach ache.

‘I had better go looking, then,’ you say thickly, ‘for another chest piece to wear. ‘

‘No, don’t go yet,’ Astarion says softly. ‘I  —  There’s something I want to talk about with you.’

He doesn’t say anything else. You stare at one another, the armor forgotten between you, and like magic from the Weave, everything changes. When you lean forward, Astarion meets you halfway with the shyest kiss he has ever given you and the most honest eyes he’s ever allowed you to look upon. After tonight, nothing will be the same and you think you’re fine with that.

[queenjunothegreat]

Hi!!!!! Hello everyone!!!!!!!! I have more words for you!!!! These ones are about Wilderness-Leo being So Fucking Normal And Heterosexual About His Buff Mysterious Roommate. Get ready for a breathtaking display of hormonal teenage courtship rituals. Ahem. Also! Eleena said I have to include this message in my A/N so here you go

This Wilderness fic is WEIRD because Piper and Leo are normal, but Jason is WILDLY out of character because he's NOT Jason. He's Leo's (who's half in love with the dude) imaginations of what he COULD have been like if he was actually there. He doesn’t have ANY of the earnest kindness that Real Jason has because Leo wouldn’t be able to conceptualize that kind of earnest kindness surviving at Wilderness, much less being directed at him.

Moving on! This was, of course, written for @lost-trio-week so I am happy to share my day six contribution: Unfold Your Paper Heart (And Wear It On Your Sleeve)

“I dunno what it is about him,” Leo sighed, finally dragging his eyes off the other boy. “I’m just drawn to him, I guess. He compels me.” Piper arched her eyebrows. “Do you think he’s hot? You got a crush on him or something?” Leo considered that, and he deliberately didn’t look over at Jason again because he wasn’t really sure how long he was allowed to stare at him before it got weird. Was Jason hot? Well, obviously, and Leo knew it, seeing as he had eyes. But that wasn’t it. Not the extent of it, at least. “No, it’s more like I wanna put him in a glass jar with a stick and some leaves. And maybe pick the jar up every now and then and shake it so I can study him.” “It can never just be ‘I have a crush’ with you, can it?” Piper drawled. “You always gotta say peculiar shit.” *** Leo is trying SO hard to befriend his new roommate. It is not going as well as he'd like Lost Trio Week 2024 - Day Six: Roommates

“I just don’t get him,” Leo seethed, stabbing at what was probably meant to be salsbury steak with his plastic spoon. “He’s just so! You know?”

In response, Piper just huffed and rolled her eyes, clearly already bored of the subject. “Are you talking about Jason? Again?”

“Yes!” Leo finally managed to cut his food in half. Underneath the simultaneously thick and runny gravy, the mystery meat was an odd shade of gray that could have either been beef that was cooked beyond all salvation, or something Leo wasn’t quite ready to really think about just yet. He considered telling one of the school admins that Piper had convinced him to go vegetarian along with her. She was usually stuck with cheese or peanut butter sandwiches because there was no universe in which Wilderness was going to make her a specialized menu, but at least her food was identifiable. He dismissed the thought to focus on the task at hand. “I’ve tried everything to get through to him! I’ve tried inviting him to eat with us, I’ve cracked jokes–”

“Well, there’s your problem.”

“–I’ve even offered some of my candy to him! Nothing works!”

“I don’t get why you’re so hung up on this guy,” Piper scoffed. “He looks like he knows how to play polo.” Her tone was dismissive, but Leo would have needed to be blind to miss the way her eyes lingered on Jason’s broad shoulders before she went back to pushing her over-blanched broccoli around on her plate.

“First off: Your dad owns a plane. You are not allowed to make fun of people for being rich. That’s my job.” Leo told her matter-of-factly before he let his gaze wander over to where Jason was sitting alone, just like always. When he had first shown up a couple weeks before, everyone, especially the girls, had flocked to him, but each and every one of them was met with a hard scowl that sent them packing. At first, Leo had planned on leaving the dude to do his own thing, but three days after Jason’s arrival, the teachers had finally gotten tired of Leo and Piper rooming together. Piper just went back to having their room to herself like she had before Leo had shown up, but Leo had been buddied up with Wilderness’s newest sideshow attraction. Normally, Leo wouldn’t have bothered trying to befriend the guy, he hadn’t with any of his other classmates or any of the many, many roommates he had over the years (Piper obviously didn’t count because she was Piper) but Jason was different.

“I dunno what it is about him,” Leo sighed, finally dragging his eyes off the other boy. “I’m just drawn to him, I guess. He compels me.”

Piper arched her eyebrows. “Do you think he’s hot? You got a crush on him or something?”

Leo considered that, and he deliberately didn’t look over at Jason again because he wasn’t really sure how long he was allowed to stare at him before it got weird. Was Jason hot? Well, obviously, and Leo knew it, seeing as he had eyes. But that wasn’t it. Not the extent of it, at least. “No, it’s more like I wanna put him in a glass jar with a stick and some leaves. And maybe pick the jar up every now and then and shake it so I can study him.”

“It can never just be ‘I have a crush’ with you, can it?” Piper drawled. “You always gotta say peculiar shit.”

Leo scowled at her, his cheeks growing warm. What the hell is wrong with you? I literally just told you I don’t have a crush on him.”

“Yeah, because what you just said was super normal.”

“Actually shut up. You’re so annoying.”

“Bet you wouldn’t say that if I was a foot taller and blond.”

At that exact moment, Jason looked up, and Leo realized he’d gone back to staring  at him without realizing it. Bright blue met brown from across the crowded cafeteria, and Leo was frozen in place like a rabbit in crosshairs. He held Jason’s gaze for a moment, then two, before he forced himself to look at Piper who had her eyebrows arched up near her hairline. He stuck his tongue out at her, ignoring the heat in his cheeks. “Shut up.”

She rolled her eyes and stabbed a broccoli. “Whatever. Come on. We should get going if we want to avoid Tyler. Assuming you’re done gawking at Prince Charming, that is.”

Leo felt the urge to tell her that Jason was in their Spanish class and that they probably wouldn’t have to leave lunch early if Leo could figure out a way to get Jason to walk with them (or hell, even just talk to him), but he wasn’t sure he’d survive the humiliation that was sure to follow. Instead, he looked back at Jason, only to find Jason still staring at him from their earlier eye contact. Leo’s eyes widened and his heart thumped in his chest, and he had to swallow down a very masculine squeak. “Uh, yeah. Alright. Let’s get out of here.”

He quickly stood, hardly waiting for Piper to catch up, and made his way to the door, ignoring the weight of the gaze on his shoulders. 

*-*-*

“That’s not how you conjugate that.”

Leo smothered a shit-eating grin as Jason jolted violently and turned on him with a scowl. “What?”

“Quedar,” Leo explained, gesturing at the homework in front of him. “You have it as Vosotras quedaremas, which is just wrong. Quedar is just literally never spelled that way. Plus, you’re using the wrong pronoun; it should be Nosotras quedaremos for ‘we will remain.’ Vostras is basically ‘you guys.’”

Jason’s scowl deepened and he furiously scrubbed at the paper with his eraser with a quietly muttered, “Thanks.”

Leo sucked his teeth for a moment before saying, “You know, I can help you with that. If you want. I’m basically the only reason Piper’s passing Spanish as is. It wouldn’t be a big deal for you to sit with us when we’re studying.”

“Yeah? What makes you think you’re so good at Spanish?”

Leo barked out a bright laugh at the joke, but Jason’s scowl just deepened. “Wait, are you stupid?” Leo clapped his hands to his mouth. “That is not what I meant to say!”

Jason looked torn between his desire to laugh and his desire to deck Leo in the face. Unsurprisingly, this expression was yet another scowl. “So, what did you mean to say?”

Instead of answering that question (he didn’t have an answer he was willing to give) he answered the first one. “I speak Spanish, dude. Like, fluently. That’s how I learned to talk.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, man. The Valdez tacked onto my name isn’t just there for decoration.”

“Oh.” Jason blinked at him for a moment like he was rebooting. “That’s, uh, that’s cool.”

“‘Uh, that’s cool,’” Leo mocked in a stupid little voice. Jason just rolled his eyes instead of getting mad at him, though, so Leo gave him a big, toothy grin. “But, yeah. I’m basically a walking, talking Spanish dictionary, if you ever need one.”

“How do you say ‘constable’ in Spanish?”

Leo froze, wracked his brain, and then glared at Jason. “Fuck you.”

Jason just grinned at him, totally unrepentant.

Leo waved his hands around like he could knock the words out of the air. “Literally whatever, that doesn’t count. You cheated. I don’t even know what that word means in English. I’m pretty sure you made it up–”

“I definitely didn’t.”

“Anyway!” Leo shouted over Jason’s obvious amusement. “What I’m trying to say is that I can help you with your homework. If you want.”

Jason considered him for a moment, and Leo had to fight the urge to hold his breath. “What’s in it for you?”

Leo wrinkled his nose. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what’s in it for you?” Jason repeated. “What are you getting out of this? Did someone put you up to it, or do you just want me to owe you a favor? What is it? What’s your angle?”

“Dude, what? No. Haven’t you ever heard of someone doing something nice, just to be nice?” Leo winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth, knowing from experience what a loaded question that was. Before Jason could reply, he plowed forward. “Look, I’m really, really not trying anything. If you don’t wanna, you can just say no, and I’ll drop it.”

“Yeah, because the last two weeks have shown how well you can take no for an answer.”

Leo recoiled at the words and shrank back. His fingers twitched where they were wrapped around his bicep and his eyes were trained solidly on the ground on the opposite side of the room. “Sorry.”

Jason was quiet for a moment before he sighed. “No, I’m sorry. That was a dick thing to say.”

Leo shrugged, still not looking at him. “Wasn’t wrong though, was it? I’ll leave you alone now, though. Promise. Sorry, again.”

Jason made a frustrated noise, and Leo looked up to see that he had a near-murderous scowl on his face, though this one was directed at the hands folded in his own lap. “You… don’t have to.”

Leo’s brow puckered in confusion and he tried not to let too much hope enter his tone. “Don’t have to what, man?”

“Leave me alone.”

Leo flinched at the sudden rebuke, and he clenched his jaw. “Look, I’m getting some really mixed signals from–”

“You don’t have to leave me alone,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t want you to.”

“Oh.” Leo blinked for a moment as the words finally sunk in. A grin started to slowly form on his face, and he didn’t even care that his cheeks were getting warm. “Alright. I won’t, then.”

“Right.” Jason cleared his throat, and Leo was about seventy-two percent sure that his ears were turning pink under all that fluffy blond hair. He wondered briefly how everyone in the school had been sent running from this almost bashful boy who was nervous around Leo of all people. “Um. Good.”

“Good,” Leo parrotted. He was pretty sure that all of his teeth were visible from how wide his smile was, but his heart was thumping too fast for him to pay it any mind. “You wanna start now?” Jason gave him a puzzled look, so he nodded at the homework still on the desk. “With that. No offense, but I highly doubt quedar is the only thing you managed to fuck up.”

Jason chuckled, and Leo marveled at the sound. “Yeah, okay.”

“Cool,” Leo beamed. Then he hopped up on his bed and patted the spot beside him in invitation. “Come on, dude. Take a seat. I hate studying at the desk. Are you hungry? I’m starving. Do you mind if I eat beef jerky while we study? Piper’s vegetarian, so I try not to eat it around her, which kinda sucks sometimes. I’ll even share if you say yes.”

Jason hummed contemplatively as he parsed through Leo’s word salad for a moment. He stood at the edge of Leo’s bed, just studying him, before he shrugged and climbed right on in. He settled down next to Leo, their sides pressed together from shoulder to knee in a way that made Leo almost breathless.  “I like beef jerky.”

Leo’s heart continued to do its hyperactive tap dance from before and he had to bite back a giddy little giggle. “Well then, Jason, I believe you and I will get along beautifully.”

*-*-*

This was a bad idea, Leo thought to himself as he came skidding out of the boys’ laundry room, a wide maniacal grin on his face. Piper was standing exactly where he'd stationed her as lookout, looking incredibly confused, so he grabbed her hand as he ran by, shouting, “Come On! ¡Vámonos! Move it, move it, move it!”

To her credit, she started running without question, which was good, because Tyler Dungan came barreling out into the hallway a second later, looking just as big and dumb and dangerous as always. He still had his ruined jersey in his hand, damp and dripping on the floor. When he caught sight of Leo, his face twisted up into a maroon snarl of fury. “Valdez!”

“This is what you needed the bleach and RIT dye for?” Piper shrieked, looking incredulous and almost as mad as Tyler. Leo just tipped his head back and laughed, picturing the gobsmacked expression on Tyler's face when he'd pulled the jersey out of the wash. Worth it.

The three of them ran through the halls, ignoring the shouts of teachers and the way students physically jumped out of their way. Tyler was fast, but he was also stupid and didn’t exactly have state of the art handling, so any time he got a little too close for comfort, Piper and Leo would just make a hard turn down another hall, and Tyler was left tripping over his feet in order to stop.

“Valdez, I'm gonna kill you!”

At those words, Leo's eyes lit up in challenge, and on his next step he turned with a flourish so he could start running backwards, just to be a show-off. “Ooh, you promise?” he cooed, leveling Tyler with a wide grin. “Sounds festive.”

Piper scoffed and grabbed the back of his shirt to yank him down another corridor. “We've got to lose him for good,” she panted. “We can’t keep running forever.”

“Are you kidding? This is the fun part.”

Only, the fun part was about to come to a very quick, unpleasant end, Leo realized with an awful sinking feeling. He'd known from the start that messing with Tyler Dungan was a Bad Idea, no matter how satisfying it was in the moment to knock him down a peg or two. Everyone at Wilderness was there for one delinquent reason or another, but Tyler was special, seeing as he was in for beating someone half to death over a game of pool. There was a reason Tyler basically got to do whatever he wanted to whoever he wanted, and Leo and Piper, who were already on the long list of people Tyler didn’t like, had gone and poked him with a very sharp stick. And to make matters worse, in their attempts to flee, they'd taken a wrong turn. They were at a dead end. No hallways to run down, no classrooms to hide in. Just them and their certain doom. 

There's an open window, Leo thought, a little hysterically. At least we can punch our own ticket before Tyler gets the chance.

Tyler burst through the doors before Leo could offer his one suggestion, and when he saw his prey cornered at the end of the hall, he let out a victorious war cry and charged. Leo felt his heart pounding in his throat as his eyes darted around, desperately searching for an out. If it was just him, he might have been tempted to just sit back and accept whatever beating Tyler had planned for him, but he couldn’t. Not with Piper there. Piper, whose only crime was ever staying by Leo's side when everyone else on the planet would have given up on him a dozen times over.

Leo reached out to blindly grasp for Piper's hand and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it, their fingers tangling tight enough to ache. They could get out of this. Surely. Somehow. Maybe they could run around Tyler on either side of the hall. That would probably confuse him, and Leo could make sure that he ran a little closer, so if Tyler did manage to grab one of them, Piper would be the one to get away. He could do this, but he’d have to be quick. It was too late to be clever. He thought about rabbits. Of a story, spoken in a gnarled old woman’s voice, about a cocky little rabbit, hunted by coyotes and eaten because he thought he could outrun anything. He couldn’t be a rabbit. He had to—

Then Tyler's feet flew up through the air in a graceful arc as he came to a very sudden stop. He went fully horizontal before gravity finally caught up with him and he slammed into the ground, back first. His skull cracked on the tile floor hard enough that Leo could see it visibly bounce, and he was surprised at the lack of blood it left behind. 

Before Leo could even begin to wonder what the hell just happened, Jason was there. His face was twisted up into a near bestial rage as he planted his foot on Tyler's chest, and bared his teeth.

“Stay down!” he barked, glowering down at Tyler until he got a furious nod of confirmation. Then his gaze flicked over to Leo and Piper, and his expression softened. He looked them both up and down before those intense blue eyes locked on Leo’s face. “Are you two okay?”

Leo gulped, feeling a bit like he'd been pinned in place just like Tyler, before he realized that Jason wasn't going to let him go without an answer. “I— Y-Yeah. We're, um. We're good.”

Jason nodded before he knelt down on one knee and got very close to Tyler's face, though he kept his foot planted to keep Tyler where he put him. His voice got a lot quieter then, but Leo could still hear the way each snarled word dripped with threat. “If you ever even look at either of those two again, I'll fucking kill you. Do I make myself abundantly clear, Dungan?” Tyler looked furious, and for a second Leo thought he might try to fight Jason (not that Leo would put much money on him after this), but then he gave a single sharp nod. Jason smiled at him, but it looked more like bared teeth than anything remotely friendly. “Good.”

“Jason! Mr. Dungan! What is the meaning of this?”

Leo's head whipped up to see Mrs. King power walking down the hall towards them, the sharp click-click of her heels showing just how serious she was. Jason just stood, dragging Tyler to his feet along with him. “Sorry, ma'am. My friend here tripped and fell, so I was helping him up. Isn’t that right, Dungan?”

Tyler's face screwed up for a moment before he nodded. “Right,” he spat, the word sounding like venom.

Jason clapped a hand on his shoulder with an expression that would have been kind, if not for the murder in his eyes. “Better be careful, man. I'd hate for something like this to happen again. Could be even worse next time.”

Tyler snorted and shrugged out from under Jason's hold and stomped off, and Mrs. King followed close behind, saying something about the nurse’s office. Jason watched them both go for a moment before he stepped over to Piper and Leo. His features weren't angry, not at all, but his eyes were still intense as he looked them over like he didn't trust Leo's assessment from before, and Leo could only stand there and let himself be looked at. When he was done with his inspection and found them to be up to code, his gaze locked with Leo’s. “I'll see you back in our room.”

Leo nodded furiously and squeaked out, “You got it, dude. See you later.”

Jason dipped his head in acknowledgement, the gesture oddly formal like some kind of honorable knight in a fairytale movie accepting a quest from the prince or whatever. “Later, then.”

And then he was gone.

When he was completely out of sight, Leo heard Piper let out a deep, shaky breath at his side. He turned to look at her and saw that her cheeks were as red as his felt. “Okay, yeah, I get it,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut. “You’re allowed to be obsessed with him.”

After the adrenaline rush and the, well, everything that had just happened, Leo could only tilt his head back and laugh.

[haravath0t]

First Impressions

A/N: Hello all! It’s been a while since this idea had been in my head, but I finally had the time to finally flesh it out into writing! It’s a bit self-indulgent on my end, but I hope you all enjoy! As this is my first attempt to make a fic that features a gn!reader, please let me know if there’s any misuse of pronouns or factors that take away this inclusive experience!

Pairing: Alhaitham x gn!reader

Summary: Although you are the third roommate to Alhaitham and Kaveh, you find yourself having trouble being in the Scribe’s good graces. What happens when you finally crack?

Content/CW: angst(ish), fluff, roommate quarrels

Word Count: 3.5k

A lot of people are wary of interacting with Alhaitham. One can argue they could be afraid, or even find him difficult to handle. However, Alhaitham hopes it stays that way. With the exception of Kaveh, he doesn’t really feel the need to interact and waste much social battery to get on with his everyday life. 

That was, until he met you.

Alhaitham and Kaveh had both, after countless arguments, agreed that maybe an extra roommate can do them some good. Perhaps a third person to balance them both, to be a buffer. That also meant that Alhaitham and Kaveh had an extra pair of hands in the maintenance of the house. And that’s when you came in the picture: A famed researcher in bio-alchemy. In the midst of all the haughty scholars and researchers, Alhaitham had seemed to approve of you, seeing that your demeanor whenever you presented your findings was quite confident rather than arrogant. He’s read your works at one point, being the ultimate factor to the full approval of your thesis. He’s secretly seen your career take off since then, archiving each journal or research article that you have published for future scholars to reference for their research.

Having overheard your woes about finding a good place to stay, finding your trek to the Akademiya to be grueling, Alhaitham was quick to respond. Your friend was quite shocked at his intervention with a casual offer of “My roommate and I are looking for a third roommate if you’re interested.” Hearing your approval of the offer a few days later made Alhaitham feel satisfied to say the least. It seemed logical, and who knows? Maybe he wouldn’t have to utilize his soundproof headphones all too much in his home. He felt that your timid demeanor could probably make Kaveh feel the need to be a little more calm himself. 

Boy, was Alhaitham wrong. 

He found the energy of you and Kaveh to be similar the minute you had moved in. As you were settling in one of their rooms, moving your items from their boxes and into their respective places in the room, Alhaitham found himself easily annoyed. He didn’t realize he’d be required to interact so intensely with you. He thought that given your genius and your shy demeanor in the Akademiya, you’d be hardly the type to be so…talkative. Alhaitham made it a note not to fall once again for the first impressions of a person like you. 

While he helped you move in, he was met with a bunch of “thank you”s that he had to put an end to by a simple “you’ve thanked me quite enough.” Kaveh seemed to get along with you without a hitch, the architect chatting away with you and immediately laughing from your vibrant energy. It wasn’t long till you directed questions at him. Kaveh already had given you a small lighthearted warning: “Alhaitham just doesn’t like stuff like that. Don’t pay him any mind.” Alhaitham and Kaveh soon realized that you are quite the persistent character. 

“I only find it fitting to know who I’m living with, no?” You ask at the table, resulting in Alhaitham’s green eyes to narrow slightly, a small huff leaving his lips. 

“Well, I assure you, knowing your roommates doesn’t quite make paying your share of the Mora easier.” He retorts. Kaveh sends him a small glare towards the Scribe, groaning in embarrassment. He seems to be grateful that you initially didn’t take offense, doubling down instead. 

“Still, it doesn't hurt to, right? It’s quite harmless, and will prove more beneficial.” You rationalize. It makes Alhaitham send you a small hum of quiet approval of your rebuttal. That was enough for you that night. 

Unlike Kaveh, you seemed to be a lot more perceptive, seeming to be more aware of Alhaitham’s boundaries and his time in the house. You knew that Alhaitham liked to be left alone in the mornings till he had his coffee, that Alhaihtam would not stay a minute longer past his work hours, that Alhaitham liked going home to nap in the afternoons if time permitted. Of course, all of this comes from trial and error on your end to be a good roommate, in hopes of finding at the very least a friend. 

Whenever Kaveh wasn’t home, out of town to gain inspiration for his next project, it was always you at home. Alhaitham would often find himself waking up at the same time as you. Three months after you moved in, he noticed coffee already brewed, along with a small note of encouragement left by you. Sometimes, he’ll see you on your extra cheery days making lunch for two. There will also be times where you are curled up in the couch of the living room, notebook and pencil in hand as you calculate the proper concentrations needed from each reagent towards a potion. Sometimes, he cannot help but peek over your shoulder, replying with some small constructive criticisms. 

“Perhaps you can consider an alternative reagent that isn’t slime condensate.”

“Don’t you think this problem is better resolved in your lab and not…at home?” “I don’t think the Akademiya currently have these in stock.” 

“Hmph, I don’t know. There’s a bunch of books on my shelves regarding Alchemy if you’d like some refreshing.”

You try to not take so much thought into his short statements. At first, you were happy that you managed to get his attention. However, it can hurt to have his words from his objective standpoint. It even seeps through in the mundane things in life. 

Whenever you cook? “Ah, what an…interesting flavor.”

Whenever you clean? “Maybe a better method can efficiently clean the space better.”

Whenever you reorganize the space? “Maybe…leave this one to Kaveh.”

It’s hard trying to make a friend out of Alhaitham. 

A year later, and it feels like your friendship with Kaveh grows while your progress with Alhaitham has not been anywhere near fruitful. It sometimes leads you to overthink; are you being annoying? Do you seem that incapable in Alhaitham’s eyes? Do you still fit into his idea of competency the way you initially did when he invited you to move in? 

You’ve been thinking you were good about hiding your woes, until one night with Kaveh home, you two got into quite a heated argument. 

“Hey, come on, you know I need the space!” Kaveh groans, rolled up parchments in one hand, a briefcase on the other. You look at him with an apologetic look in your eyes. “I know I’m sorry, can you spend another night working in the living room? I desperately need the shelves of books here to help with my manuscript!” You try to reason, but the architect has started to become irked. 

“Again? You told me that two days ago! When will you get it in your head that your research has hit a plateau?!”

Kaveh’s words had made you wince, eyes stinging from the tears that were threatening to fall. He clearly got you at a weak spot, clear as day when you try to refute. “But that’s why I need the books here! For reference so maybe-” 

“So maybe what?! You’ll spend another night putting books in and out of shelves all night?! Then you start clanging pans around in the kitchen because you skipped meals, then Alahitham and I wake up? Oh, why? Well, because your schedule requires us to accommodate YOU!”

You didn’t bother saying a word, your lip quivering and your eyes rapidly blinking your tears away. Before Kaveh fully sinks in the uncharacteristically hurtful words he hurled your way, you’re already taking your various folders and papers with your own bag and trudging to the living room. It’s not long till Alhaitham’s green eyes can’t help but peer at your current state, curled up and writing quietly with some quiet sniffs. You can sense his red and yellow pupils scanning your various items in curiosity, but try your absolute hardest to not engage in a conversation. You didn’t need additional troubles, additional criticisms thrown your way. 

“Oh? What’s that?” He asks, genuinely curious. However, unlike your usual peppy tone and behavior, you respond with a more curt tone in your voice.

“Just my manuscript.”

It makes the young Scribe quirk an eyebrow, slowly walking towards the couch where you sat. You used to ask him to read it, asked him what he thought, asked him if he would want this time to talk about it with food or drinks. Oddly enough, he’s seen less and less of that part of you as the time went by. He did hear what tonight’s conversation with Kaveh consisted of for you, the volume of the voices having stirred him to take off his headphones for a little bit. He heard quite enough, thinking maybe, just maybe, your doubts will be eased by his words. He can do that, right? Would you like that, perhaps?

Well, not that he cares all too much, of course. It’s just curiosity towards the paper and the need to pacify the quarrel between roommates. Nothing more, Alhaitham deduces. After all, a scholar with so much potential like you deserves to have the best quality of work to be produced. He addresses the elephant in the room without thinking much about it.

“You know, you shouldn’t let Kaveh hurl such hurtful words just because he too is stressed. Adding some weight to other’s opinions towards you and your work will only set you back. You’d be further away from objectivity. Surely you know this, right?” 

He asks this, not intending to sound harsh. He knows he’s put you in a rather uncomfortable position right now, seeing how you wince and writhe a tad in your seat, your eyes glued onto the papers in front of you. 

“It’s not as simple as that, Alhaitham.” You reply, a tone that is practically devoid of your usual soft and affectionate demeanor. However, Alhaitham doesn’t seem to take this as a proper answer, his eyes narrowing and his arms crossing. He responds, his head tilted to the side. “I find it to be quite simple if you take out the weak links to your situation.”

“Well, it’s not simple for me, okay?” You hiss, tears stinging your eyes once again. You couldn’t handle the way the two have been hounding you lately. You’ve been so adamant on your manuscript to be submitted for peer review, so engrossed in your own work, that it felt like you weren’t able to retrieve some ounce of freedom or “you time” that you had before. It doesn’t help when Kaveh was constantly out, or when Alhaitham only spoke to you to provide unsolicited advice and constructive criticisms. 

“What factors are there that could possibly put you in such mental distress?” He asks, stepping closer to you, the coffee table now being the only border between the two of you. 

“Many things!” You cry out, having snapped now. You feel like you want to cry, scream into a pillow, hug something, throw something. Everything all at once. “This manuscript! The rent! Trying not to be in the way of Kaveh when he’s hammering away his projects! Trying to be a good roommate, because you seem to absolutely regret the decision to have me here with you two!”

Alhaitham knows he’s pushed you quite a bit, not pressing the matter any further. However, his eyes widen ever so slightly at your bold claim regarding him. You…thought he regrets having you? For once, you catch the young Scribe off-guard, especially when he felt like his feelings were well put across for you. 

Despite this opinion of his, he knows he wouldn’t want to leave you alone in such a state. He keeps it in his mind to give Kaveh quite the conversation later, seeing how your eyes practically sunk in your sockets, how your usual glow on your face has been depleted, or how your legs are constantly bouncing up and down. He doesn’t know why, but he can’t seem to properly predict your next move sometimes. He can’t seem to gather an adequate amount of information about you to better know you, feeling as if you were a walking wild card. For once, the Scribe seems to be a bit nervous, but his willingness to settle things in a rational manner pushes him to stick to this confrontation. 

He watches as you clutch onto your papers slightly tighter, allowing you to take as much time as your need to formulate thoughts. If he wants to do anything at this moment, it’s to hear every single word you want to tell him. With a shaky inhale and exhale, you respond in a direct manner too, although not as harsh as your poor attempt at a toughened facade had offered before.

“Sometimes I wonder if you even like me…it sure feels like you hate me sometimes.”

Alhaitham’s gaze towards you seems to soften ever so slightly, the main issue having left your lips in a small tone. He watches as your lips quiver, your shoulders slumped, and your eyes that usually are willing to gaze into his eyes are looking away as you quietly sob in frustration. The air is thick, awkward, as you nervously play with your pencil, hoping desperately your words don't harm any existing goodwill he has towards you. Though it seems to spur on your tears, your doubts are now in the forefront of your mind. Alhaitham is seeing this vulnerable side to you for the first time, seeing how who he thought was the self-assured alchemist now clutching onto their pencil like a vice, crying not only because of work, but because of something he’s been a great influence in. 

He wants to set the record straight, sitting down next to you. Your tear-filled eyes look up at him nervously, unsure of what his next words would be. However, you brace yourself nonetheless.

“I don’t hate you, nor do I regret you moving in,” He starts observing your reaction. In the time he’s known you, he expected this much from you, the way your eyes widened in slight surprise and the way your lips parted to argue something else.

“Just let me say my piece, please.” he urges, his mouth curving a bit when you nod. “If there’s anything I think about regarding you, it’s respect. It…”

Alhaitham sighs, being a tiny bit self-conscious now as he is pushed to think of his words carefully, and to heavily assess this with you. It’s a very rare feeling he gets, but an icky one nonetheless “I felt that maybe you’d appreciate an environment that would push you and encourage you for the better. You are quite the capable scholar. Your passion towards bio-alchemy shows in your work. It is equally a strength as it is a flaw. Perhaps, you may argue that your passion in everything, academically and at home, pushes me in a new perspective.” He concludes, nodding to himself, almost chuckling at how he’s even coming off as doting to you. He shakes his head, his eyes looking over at yours. 

“Perhaps I lack in how to properly showcase this gratitude and respect towards you. I will make sure to work on this. You and Kaveh are the only two people I actively see and talk to anyway.”

You cannot help but feel utter confusion, your eyes widening a bit as he speaks his own perspective of things. You don’t know whether to be relieved, more frustrated, embarrassed, or all of the above. You decide to try to delve further in, for it would be quite foolish of you to blindly accept this as gospel.

“But…you find me to be quite annoying, do you not?” You question, bringing your sleeves up to your eyes to wipe your tears. “You constantly groan or you, like, you know…pull up a book, I don’t know…” you continue, your voice trailing off. You shrug a bit, looking up at him, feeling your body heat up at his silence and his gaze. “You know what I mean…” 

Somehow, your current behavior seems to amuse Alhaitham. Not only is this the longest conversation you two have had in the year of living with each other, but it also allows him to see the multiple sides of you. His lips have a hint of a smile in them as he lets out a quiet chuckle. “You can be annoying, yes.” He states bluntly, crossing his arms as he sits more comfortably beside you. He sees the way you wince at this, but how you lean towards him. It is a sufficient cue for him to know that you’re listening regardless. “But, everyone can have a behavior that causes people to be annoyed, right? It doesn’t deter from the bigger picture of my opinion towards you.” He adds. He sees you nod, adjusting yourself as you face him now on the couch, your head resting on the cushion as you continue to talk. 

“You do have a tendency to leave a mess when you use things in the house.” You say, an attempt to tease the silver haired man, a hint of a smile on your face. Alhaitham snickers a bit, finding the way you pout at his shortcomings to be quite…endearing. Cute even. 

“And you have a tendency to buy too much groceries for the week.” He retorts, clearly a little more at ease, finding it quite fun to rile you up. It works, watching you gawk at him in what can be interpreted as mock offense. 

“That’s because I-”

“Want to make sure we are all well-fed.” Alhaitham finishes, seeing the way you almost seem embarrassed by his response. Turns out, as much of a wild card as you are, the Scribe has taken a liking with your spontaneous driven decisions to go out. Maybe he did like the way you brewed coffee for them, or the way you dance to yourself while you clean, or the way you mutter a string of curses when an inconvenience hits you. Maybe he did enjoy the way you went out of your way to “annoy him” during the day at the House of Daena, or the way you include a tiny note and doodle when you make him lunch, or the way you practically launch yourself when you hug someone. Although he always saw Kaveh so easily affectionate and doting towards you, and how you willingly reciprocated, Alhaitham cannot help but wonder if there’d be a space for him too. If there’d be a time where those short bursts of your energy would be prolonged. If this would synthesize into something that benefits you both. However, he opts to not tell you this just yet. He wouldn’t want you to know this all anyway, knowing it will be in the back of your head if he does. So he opts to let you find it out for yourself. 

“Look, Y/N,” he starts, sighing a bit. He tilts his head to the side as he also leans against the cushion of the couch. “I’m not going to coddle you or sugarcoat things for you in regards to your work or your shortcomings, but I am trying to help. I want to take care of you because I…well…you know, care about you. I hope this is something you can stomach for the time being.” You cannot help but soften your own gaze too, feeling a little warm from Alhaitham’s current doting tone despite saying things in a crude manner. However, you can see that if you two ever tried to meet in the middle, you’d be quite a powerful pair. You can see the potential of how you two can flourish with his rationality balancing out your passionate personality. You appreciate him for his honesty anyway, and his ability to tell things “as is”, and the type of person everyone needs to truly assess their growth would be a truthful person like Alhaitham. 

“Hmm, I surely won’t be able to stomach this whole thing tonight. It’s definitely flipped my worries about…well, us.” You say, a shy giggle leaving your lips as you point between you and him. “I cannot help but wonder what to do next knowing this now.” You admit, a small smile given towards him. 

“Maybe this is just one of the few things you don’t wonder about. Maybe you should just let time tell. We are on the same page after all, don’t you think?” He asks, his gaze a little softer towards you, a slight smile on his face. If you looked hard enough, you can argue the aloof Scribe looked…hopeful. 

You cannot help but smile wider, your eyes crinkling as your excitement is displayed on your face. “Hmm, I suppose you’re right. We’ll just see.” You conclude softly, nodding to show the satisfaction of where things are now. 

Alhaitham seems to reciprocate, letting himself fully rest as he sits on the couch with a small hopeful smile on his face. Many people tend to be wary of talking to Alhaitham, being simply too afraid or thinking they won’t get along with him. But when it comes to you? He’s more than glad that you have been quite the opposite. 

If you liked this, please comment and/or reblog! Writers like me appreciate it! ❤️

[thestarrynightslover]

The Day You Finally Caught a Break

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 1,574

Warnings: FLUFF. Mentions of sex crimes and crimes involving special victims (all very slight).

Summary: After living in a boring routine, the detective (y/n) (y/l/n) catches a lucky break with her colleague Jay Halstead.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: So, this is my first fic in a while and I am aware that it is very cheesy but I just felt like writing something cheesy. Anyways, I hope you like it!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

The day started just like any other would: waking up earlier than necessary, going for a run, doing some yoga, reading, and finally getting ready to go to work. Sure, to a lot of people that might have been a great morning, having all that time to do all that stuff… The only thing was: you’d been running on nothing beyond routine — one that had become quite boring, to be honest — for a couple of years now. Which made you that weird cop who actually enjoyed the worst cases just because it gave you some sort of purpose, some sort of change. Holding that thought, you were supposed to feel lucky once you and your team got deeper into your current case. But, even with the most boring of lives, a person — a decent human being — couldn’t feel lucky for even knowing something like that happens in the world, much less for having to know every sick and twisted detail of a case that involved sex trafficking, pregnant women, all sorts of assault and child abduction.

After it was “over”, around midnight, all of Intelligence seemed to silently agree on staying as long as necessary to finish their reports. Everybody thinking the same way: finishing this today, I can get outta here, get drunk, and put it in a box in the back of my head — where it’ll stay forever. As soon as someone would finish the paperwork, they’d grab their coat, mutter something resembling a goodbye, and rush out of there like the room was on fire. Molly’s wouldn’t be open anymore and none of you really wanted to spend time with each other to risk having to talk out what had happened. And then something strange happened.

Instead of just leaving like your partner Kim and his partner Kevin before her, Ruzek just stood at the door frame, waiting. For Upton. What? He kept looking at her desk so it was pretty obvious but the confirmation came when the detective got up saying: “Hey, Jay, I’mma get going now. You okay if we do our thing some other day?”

By the time Halstead looked up, she was almost reaching Adam which shocked the shit out of you but didn’t seem to faze him much, who only answered: “Yeah. Sure. Night, guys.” And then there were two—the only two Intelligence members who never exchanged more than a couple of polite measures.

Nevertheless, your gossip-starved soul got the best of you, who ended up blurting out a “They’re together?” to no one less than Jay Halstead. For a minute or so the other detective just looked around the room, as if expecting someone to jump out of nowhere and answer your question. But, after your eyes eventually met, he decided on answering.

“Eh… I don’t really know”, he started, while scratching the back of his neck, “I mean, it’s not like I’ve asked, you know?”

“Ah…” Was all you found to say after he stopped for a moment, but he continued.

“That’s just not really how it works between us. But the other day he did show up at her place late at night, which was suspicious. To say the least.” The words just flew right out of his mouth, surprising both of you, who started chuckling awkwardly at the recognition, “this is the first actual conversation we’ve had after all this time working together, isn’t it?”, he asked, ultimately.

“Yeah, I think it is,” you said, now full-on laughing. “God, I can’t believe that the first time I worked up the courage to actually talk to you was to ask for gossip!” You exclaimed, knowing that your cheeks were probably burning up with embarrassment.

“To be honest, I kinda needed to share that with someone. Especially after this moment here.” He confessed, making you laugh and forcing himself to laugh a bit more to try and hide the fact that he couldn’t stop staring at you. It just went wrong when his mouth betrayed him by saying: “You look so damn cute right now!”

"Well, it isn't every day that one finds out that the detective Jay Halstead is a gossip. Which makes me wonder who the cute one really is…"

"Oh, so that's where you're going with this?" He asked with his eyes twinkling. "Because I can prove just how not cute I am…"

"Oh?" You replied simply wondering what kind of proof he could provide against that.

"In fact, I have just the perfect idea, but, for that, you'd have to agree on going out with me first." Jay himself couldn't believe he finally managed to invite you out.

"Ooh, as in a d- date?" Who were you? Stuttering? C'mon!

"A date, yes." He answered, making you feel relieved and nervous again all at the same time.

"Yeah, I, uh, I wouldn't mind that at all. We can try and think of a date that works for both of us…" You suggested.

"Well, on Wednesday I'll be off, how about you?" Jay asked quickly.

"Oh no, that day I have somethings Platt wanted me to do. How about next Monday?"

"That's a no for me, 'cause I'm pulling doubles next week.*

"Damn…"

“Maybe this is a crazy idea but have you finished your report yet?” He asked quizzically.

“Uh, hitting the send button right now. Why?

“Then what if we do it now?”

“The date thingy?” You asked shyly, afraid that had been just a momentaneous thought that came out of his mouth too fast.

At that, he looked at you in awe, mesmerized by how adorable you were. “Yes. The date thingy.”

A million thoughts crossed your mind, including the one that that was a lifetime opportunity and that you should be better dressed, but figuring that saying something like that would only make you miss the opportunity, you settled for asking: “But where would we go? Like, it’s past 1 a.m., Jay, I don’t think there are a lot of places open…”

“Well, I might have a few ideas… Do you trust me?” He asked, holding his hand out to you, who grabbed it at the same time as you grabbed your jacket and purse with your other hand.

“Do you really need to ask that?"

And, like that, some time later you found yourself pulling up to the address Jay had texted you, which was in Canaryville, and it turned out to be an old movie theater that apparently was doing a week of classics with sessions at all times of the day. How Jay knew about that, though, was a mystery to you.

"Hey!" You heard him calling as he crossed the street. "You made a better time getting here than I did!"

"Yeah, well, my car might be faster than your old one," you replied, shrugging innocently.

"Haha, very funny," he deadpanned.

"Hey, this is a cool idea but how did you know it is happening?" You asked, genuinely curious. "I mean, you just don't seem a lot like a movie nerd to me."

"Well, there are still many things you don't know about me. But this one specifically is because I grew up around here and the owner is a friend of my family, so he always lets Will and I know about what's going on with the place."

"Hmmm, that explains it!" You exclaimed with a tad of satisfaction for not being too far off about him.

"But I do enjoy movies, okay?" You made a face of disbelief at him. To which he replied with: "It's true, alright? I'll admit that these days I haven't had much time for it but when I was growing up around here, this place was practically my second home!"

"Oh, so you've brought many others here, I'll assume!" You teased, suddenly feeling more comfortable and consequently more confident.

"Don't! Don't assume that! Growing up I wasn't very successful with the ladies and after that changed I haven't come here often…"

"Ooh, so that means that I'm your first?" You mocked, putting your hand to your heart, "Wow, I'm truly touched now!"

"Yeah, sure, have your fun with me all you want! All I really care about is the fact that I finally managed to get you to go out with me, so I can only hope you'll enjoy yourself." Him saying that, while gazing so intently at you, was making you weak on your knees and got you blushing a bit as well. So you tried to get the attention off you.

"Okay! Then let's pick a movie and watch it already, 'cause tomorrow's probably not gonna be any shorter."

A couple of hours later you and Jay were walking down the street towards a Waffle House while chatting and laughing about the movie like two best friends, which felt really nice but also made you a little confused about the being a date of that date the two of you were on. But, after you both had cleaned your plates at the diner, Jay came onto your bench to clean the corner of your mouth with a napkin, and next thing you knew, you were kissing very passionately in public like a couple of teens, forgetting about the rest of the world altogether, which made you realized, once more, how dull and colorless your life was previous to that moment so you held on to it and you held on to the man behind it.

[rweoutofthewoods]

hiii. This is kinda a uh ridiculous question but i really wanna write a Jegulus fic! And I have the idea for it but I'm scared I don't have the talent? And part of me is thinking to write another fic now and write the one I want later so it can be better and I have like a "practice" fic and part of me just wants to say fuck it because I love the idea I have, but because I love the idea I wanna do it justice. And I'm just wondering if you've ever struggled like that or have any advice 😭

Hi!

So there’s a few things I wanna tell you so stick with me.

1. Fanfic is the one place where there’s zero god given talent or skill required! There’s no standard for your work, there’s no grade you’re working for or levels you have to meet ! You have the freedom to write the silliest least effort thing or put all ur time and effort into crafting something! no judgement! Most people aren’t looking for a professional level piece of workor going to judge you! They just want to read about their fave characters and they’ll appreciate you for putting that time in no matter what.

2. don’t let things as silly as your own perception of your talent scare you away, that’s subjective anyway! And I assure you we’re never subjective when it comes to ourselves, so there’s no use even dwelling on talent, it’s an abstract sort of thing you can’t measure or nail down anyway!

3. In that vein!! If you are worried about your writing skills or experience the only way to gain confidence and comfort with it is by writing!! So don’t hold yourself back, say fuck it and go for it! Write what you’re excited about because that excitement will drive you forward and motivate you to work on it more. And the more you work on it, the more you’ll gain an internal compass for what works and what doesn’t in writing and become more self assured!

Moral of the story, go for it! And don’t set roadblocks for yourself by being too hard on yourself.

There are definitely a few fics of my own like anti-hero or pathological people pleaser that I feel similarly to ur worries. I wasn’t quite skilled enough yet to do them total justice BUT I wouldn’t even feel that way if I hadn’t written them in the first place you know? It’s all a circle. I had to write those things then to get to the writer I am today, and maybe I could do better now, but that’s BECAUSE I had the practice with those fics, and I don’t regret writing them when I did at all. I just have a better toolbox now because of them to do better in everything else I write. every fic grows my expertise and I can be proud of that without regretting or being ashamed of the steps it took to get me here.

Hope this helps a bit!! 🩷

[sadiegirl2021]

Writing tag game by @bonecarversbestie !

Describe your writing process from idea to posting/publishing?

I have a notes app called EasyNotes where I jot down all my ideas as I get them; bits of dialogue I think would work in a fic, interactions between characters (which always come to me just as I'm about to drift off to sleep) and very, very rough outlines of chapters.

Then, I'll word vomit onto a doc and copy in any notes I had.

Because I'm better at dialogue than describing the scene, I'll write out all of that first and then work from there to flesh it out. Like starting with the skeleton.

Once I have the first draft done, I start my editing process. I go paragraph by paragraph correcting spelling and grammar (I have a Chrome extension called LanguageTool), and then I play the whole chapter through another Chrome extension called Read Aloud. Because of my ADHD, it can be difficult to catch all my errors by reading alone, so hearing it out loud helps A LOT! Would recommend it. (Although the voices used are hilarious. Hearing your smut scene's read out by a monotone robot is slightly traumatising 😂)

Once I'm happy with a paragraph, I will add HTML coding to it - the <p> tag. In my head, it's just the easiest way to mark that a paragraph is complete. If I'm still not sure about a sentence or paragraph, I will mark it in red to rework. I also add all my <i> tags as I'm writing, so I don't forget about them later!

I realise I'm doing too much! But, I quite enjoy the editing process.

Once I get a chapter or One Shot uploaded, I try my best not to read it again so I'm not continuously making little changes.

Are you a plotter or a pantser?

I want to be a plotter SO BAD! I've got Excel sheets, multiple docs with outlines, plot points, and a solid plan. And then boom! The characters run off like a crazed toddler in the opposite direction, and all I can do is follow. So… I guess I'm a pantser!

What do you listen to when you are writing?

I have multiple Spotify playlists depending on the mood of the fic/chapter I'm writing. If I need to write emotional scenes, I'll put on some heartbreaking Emo songs from 2006! Or, if my energy drops while writing, I'll switch to 90s pop. Generally, though, I just listen to instrumental music. One of my fav playlists is this one.

What’s your drink of choice (while writing)?

Water. I am booooooring. It is sparkling, though!

Promote yourself! What’s your favourite thing you’ve written?

I think it's Hot Girl Summer. This was supposed to be a little funny, 5-10 chapter fic that wasn't serious. And it has spiralled into a multi POV, 40-chapter story with so much plot! I'm loving the process, though. And I think I will definitely have to get it bound when it's all done.

Share a fic of yours that you think is underrated/deserves more love.

I'm going to say Hot Girl Summer too. I think a lot of people aren't as interested in stories that follow both Gwynriel and Elucien (and sometimes E/riel or another pairing with their favourite characters) at the same time. I haven't seen many fics that do it, but they’re some of my favourites in the fandom, and I’m so happy to add to that list. If you're hesitant, I highly recommend giving them a try!

My favs are:

Call Me Home (by @propagandaprincess)

A Court of Vision and Bloom (by studentwriter666)

Best Laid Plans (by @trappedoutside124)

Do you have any advice for new writers?

First of all, just do it! It took me 33 years to build the confidence to try. For most of my life, I didn't think I was good enough to write, even though I had so many stories to tell. In my 20s, I probably wouldn’t have had the confidence to take the plunge. Writing opens you up to criticism (which I hate!), but I’m forever grateful that 99.9% of my readers have only ever been incredibly supportive and encouraging.

Don’t be afraid to use tools that help you. I know my limitations with ADHD, so I created a process that works for me. Everyone has a different method, and the right one is whatever works for you.

Finally, finding a community of like-minded people makes the whole process a lot more fun. I love helping others develop fic ideas or beta-reading for them, and appreciate all the support they give me. It really motivates me to keep writing.

What is a writing style/technique that others do really well that you'd like to get better at?

Flow and angst! I'm really working on improving these areas in my writing. I'm quite impatient and tend to rush through the plot rather than building up tension. I know I need to slow down and let the story breathe, but it's so hard! I just want my characters to kiss within the first 5 seconds 😂

Is there a character you were surprised you enjoyed writing as much as you did?

Eris Vanserra!

Gods, I love torturing this man! I've redeemed him so much in my fic that I'll be heartbroken if he truly turns out to be just a dickhead in the canon ACOTAR world!

Thank you for tagging me @olenvasynyt

No pressure tags: @sunshinebingo @avabrynne @thevalkyriesshadow @aldbooks @hlizr50

[qqueenofhades]

Ok, unsolicited rant, I’m sorry in advance. I used to love reading when I was a kid, and read frequently and often. I read a lot and I read books that I wouldn’t be able to understand now, like Anna Karenina when I was 12 (I am a native Russian speaker so it’s not that impressive but still) and a lot of Thomas Mann when I was 17-18.

It’s all gone now. I became extremely picky, but also it seems to be harder for me to understand books now? Like I’ve been trying to read “demons”, “Oliver twist”, “Ulysses” - too hard, and I can’t concentrate and in case of demons there are so many ideas and historical tidbits that I have to sit with Wikipedia and a notebook. And yes, as a kid I would have checked certain things and be able to hold a connection in my memory without a notebook (although I’m not sure if I would have done that with demons in particular, I’m bad at Dostoevsky and hated “crime and punishment”). And it doesn’t matter whether I’m reading in Russian or in English. I almost got it with Arundhati Roy’s “the god of small things”, then there was a very upsetting and triggering scene and I had to put it down.

And if I try to get into something nicer and easier my picky side comes out and I just drop books one after the other. Murderbot diaries and the Locked tomb were the only two books series that captivated me in two years.

Anyway I miss that soothing state of being engrossed with a book. And I so rarely get it now! So I wanted to ask, do you maybe have some advice? I saw your book stack and felt both envy and fear, like I both wanted to read and didn’t. Yikes.

And also, I can still read fic and your fics got me through terrible time and soothed me! So thank you!!!

Aha well. I will say that my current monumental book stack is not technically the norm for me, though I do usually have 3-4 books on the hard-working bedside table and read for several hours every night. Said giant book stack was a confluence of factors (picking up a bunch of holds from the library after asking the people for book recommendations and then going to the bookstore yesterday and hilariously telling myself that I would only get one book max). So it's not like I have ginormous amounts of TBR at all times, and in that giant stack, there are likely to be several books that don't grab me, are not particularly interesting, or technically good and well-written but just not engaging with the Brain Gremlins at this particular point in time. So I will put them down and move onto the next one, and this will keep me from being bogged down, because why read if you're not enjoying it/yourself/the book? It's not a punishment or a character-building ordeal. It's supposed to be fun, and if you're reading things that, as noted in your ask, just aren't grabbing you and feel like a chore, then stop! Find something else that makes the Brain Gremlins go ooooh shiny, regardless of what it is. It doesn't have to be Fine Literature.

I also had to get back into the habit of reading for pleasure, and it took me time and effort to do it due to various external circumstances. From about 2015-19, while I was doing my PhD, I had less than no money and absolutely no spare brainpower, so while I did have a few books that I collected along the way, I barely did any reading for pleasure at all (though I did do a frankly alarming amount of writing, including fic writing). Looking back, that seems insane to me, but it was something that had to change step by step, and it wasn't as if I just finished the PhD and went straight back into pleasure reading. I moved back to the US in 2019 and had a part-time job at a bookstore, which was very dangerous for my minimum-wage paycheck, but it did get me back into the habit of looking at books and reading books and being able to take home advanced-reader copies for free and otherwise start exercising that muscle again. I didn't have a library as an option for quite a while because I was living in a tiny town, then COVID hit, then I moved to another tiny town, where there was at least finally a modest public library at my disposal. But it took time.

Now I live in a city with a great public library where I can get almost anything I want, and I went accordingly hog-wild, but if you don't have readily available reading resources, obviously it's hard to get your hands on stuff that you like and will make the brain gremlins go brrrr. There are some public libraries that offer cards/user privileges even to people who don't live in the geographical area, especially if you are a young adult. Check out Books Unbanned by the Brooklyn, Boston, Seattle, and San Diego (US) libraries, which aims to provide access to ebooks and other digital collection items for young adults facing challenges to access, regardless of where they live. You can get a card up to age 18 from San Diego, age 21 in Brooklyn, and up to 26 for Boston/Seattle.

I also now have a little more disposable income, so I can buy books if I want to, though it's true that I also bought books when I couldn't really afford them (shh). But it's still the fact of my access to a good public library that enables me to have stacks on stacks rotating through the bedside table, and I use it constantly, so there's that. I'm of course very glad to hear that you can still read fic and that you have enjoyed my stuff, but I do also feel that you have to read fic AND books/published writing/stuff that's not fic. So the best way to get back into the habit is by practicing, not forcing yourself into stuff that isn't fun or feels like a slog, and finding a place where you can consistently obtain other stuff that's good for sparking joy. That is not the case for everyone, it will impact what you are able to do, and you should not feel like you have to do some kind of "good" reading model, especially since a lot of people seem to think that what you read is directly representative of your intelligence, moral character, or some other important part of you, and it's not. Humans like stories, the end. We like being given stories, fiction or nonfiction, in a format that we can digest and understand, and we always have. It's that simple.

Basically, I feel like reading for pleasure should indeed be fun, I love reading for pleasure and encourage everyone to do more of it, I now am fortunate to be able to do it extensively, and it has taken work of various kinds to get to that point where I can in fact just set myself up with a ginormous stack and dive in. As noted, however, if any of the books currently on hand are boring or just not doing it for me, I will move onto the next one, because the fun thing is that there are always more. So yes. Go forth and read. Good luck.

[everwitch-magiks]

a rich and complex tapestry

When Alex first hooks up with Henry, he's expecting a fun one-night-stand and maybe the occasional booty call. He does not expect to get so completely pulled into Henry’s orbit that it forces him to reevaluate everything he thought he knew about his sexuality. And he's not sure if it makes it better, or way worse, that Henry is actually a professional at all this stuff — what are the odds that Alex would hook up with the one guy on campus who hosts his own radio show about sex? 'Sleeping With Henry' is about to gain one devoted listener.

This was such a satisfying fic to write! It was genuinely one of those that felt like it wrote itself - and I don't know about y'all, but that's not how it usually works for me. Right from the start, I felt so certain of what I wanted this to be: I wanted to write one that really dug deep into Alex's bi realization. That's a theme that features in a lot of RWRB fics, including my own, and of course it's also a vital part of the RWRB canon. With this fic, I wanted to explore that deeply, to really take my time with it and write it in a way that felt vulnerable and heartfelt and very, very real.

I'm bi. And whenever I write about Alex being bi, I am writing a little bit about me being bi - never completely about me, but y'know. It's one of the things that really drew me to Alex's character in the first place, the way his bisexual realization was handled in the book. That realization is something I almost always include in an AU as well - but oftentimes in a oneshot, the timeline for any type of emotional character development can become quite condensed. And while I immensely enjoy both reading and writing oneshots wherein Alex's bi realization takes place over the course of a few hours - in fact, that can be so fun! - in this oneshot, I wanted to let it take quite a bit of time.

Also? I very desperately wanted to write Henry as an irresistibly confident sex guru on late-night radio. What's not to like about that?

In the excerpt below the cut, Alex and Henry have just had sex and Alex is about to tell Henry that actually, he still sort of thinks he's straight. Mostly.

Henry slumps down against him, but he doesn’t immediately pull himself off. It gives Alex a few moments to assess the feeling of his dick in Henry’s ass in a more technical sense, without the burning urgency of an impending orgasm. And it’s… well. It’s nice? He shifts his hips a little, biting his lip when that makes Henry groan slightly.

Suddenly, he’s infinitely curious about the opposite side of the experience.

Henry nips at Alex’s throat, possibly in retaliation to his wiggling. “You alright?”

“I’m fantastic,” Alex drawls. Except then Henry starts to pull off, and Alex instantly palms at his shoulders. “Hey, could you… stick around? I’m having a moment.”

“Is that so?” Henry wonders. He sounds mildly confused, which is way better than put-out. Alex will take it. “If you’re suggesting another round, I’m going to need a bit longer.”

“I mean, we could do that,” Alex says quickly. It’s a great fucking idea. “I was just kinda taking it all in.”

He feels Henry go still against him. “What do you mean?” Henry asks softly.

“Um.” Fuck. It’s possible Alex should’ve mentioned this earlier. “I’m, y’know, mostly straight? Like, about ninety-six percent or so. Historically it’s been a hundred, but recent data suggests otherwise.”

Henry makes a noise Alex can’t quite decipher; it’s both startled and a bit weak, but when he speaks there’s distinct amusement in his voice. “Christ, Alex. I'm not sure you're aware you're saying that with your cock still in my arse.”

“Fuck right off.” Alex couldn’t fight his dumb grin if he tried. This is exactly why he and someone like Henry, regardless of gender, could never work out for real; Henry is way too good at cutting through Alex’s bullshit. Alex wouldn’t stand a fucking chance.

Read 'a rich and complex tapestry' on AO3!

[cosmicjoke]

As a writer in the SNK fandom, how do you push through the discouragement from lack of engagement? No one comments on my works and it makes me really sad. At most, I’ll get one comment whenever I post something and it’ll be something like “Please update!!” People always say “write for yourself” and I do, but if I wanted to only write for myself, I wouldn’t bother posting my work. I had a work with 30+ chapters and whenever I posted, I would get hundreds of hits and no comments. I abandoned it because posting made me insecure and anxious. I write for other fandoms and don’t have this problem there, so I don’t think the issue is my writing.

Hey there!

First of all, I'm sorry to hear about the lack of engagement you've been getting on your work. That really sucks, and I know first-hand what that's like. My own work doesn't get much traction at all, either, particularly in the SnK fandom, and I don't know why that is. Whether it's people simply being too lazy to comment, or too entitled, thinking they're owed someone's work and effort and shouldn't have to pay it back in any way, or if it's some weird insecurity on their part, not wanting to comment because they feel shy or something. But I have the same issue you do, and I'm certain it's got nothing to do with the quality of the writing itself, for either of us. Sometimes I think it's because I'm not writing what's "popular", i.e. Levi/reader fics, or Levi/Eren or whatever. I don't know. I feel like most people just want to read smut, but I'm not into that at all. I updated and/or posted three new chapters for my AoT fics over the last, couple days, and I've gotten a grand total of 2 comments, I think, lol. And whenever I post a chapter or a one-shot here on tumblr, I'm lucky if I get one or two likes, and I almost never get a single reblog. It's super discouraging, and I don't blame you at all for abandoning your own writing. I've felt very often like just quitting when nobody can be bothered to leave any sort of comment, or the most they can manage is a one word comment, or a demand for an update. Hardly anybody bothers to actually tell you what they liked about a story or a chapter that you've posted.

To be honest, it's not easy to continue on when you just aren't getting any feedback. As you said, if people that write fanfiction were just doing it for themselves, they wouldn't bother publishing it online. Fandom thrives off of engagement and interaction. You'll get people whining about a fandom dying out, but then they don't lift a finger to try and keep it alive. I understand not always having the time to leave a comment on something, but once in a while would be nice. If someone is interested enough in your story to click on it, assuming they enjoy it, they should make the effort to let you know.

Mainly, I end up motivating myself just through my own passion for the source material and/or character I'm writing for. It's the same with my analyses posts. I get very little engagement, most of the time, with those, and I work pretty hard on them, too. But I keep writing them because, ultimately, I care about the media I'm analyzing and want to work out my thoughts and feelings about it. It's nice if somebody interacts with the posts, but generally, I don't expect it anymore.

It's harder with fiction, though, because while analyses posts can be seen as something more academic in nature, fiction is a form of entertainment, and so you assume people are reading it to enjoy themselves. Well, if they're enjoying it, then they should let the creator know they are.

Anyway, I feel like I'm not giving you a very good answer here. Basically, the way I keep writing, even when I don't get any engagement, is just by being interested in the source material and characters myself. So if I'm writing a story about Levi, at the end of the day, it's because I personally love his character and find enjoyment in writing for him, creating different scenarios to put him in and bringing them to life, etc... But again, it's not easy. I can't tell you how often I just want to quit. Some days, I think I will entirely. Art is meant to be shared with other people. If nobody wants to read your work, or isn't willing to let you know that they're reading and enjoying your work, then it's basically the same as telling a creator that they shouldn't bother. There's a certain level of responsibility, I feel like, from readers. They should, at a certain point, feel beholden to leave a comment if they're enjoying your work and regularly engaging with it. It's the least they could do. It takes a lot of work to write fanfiction, and nobody is getting paid to write it. The payment is when people actually tell you what they think.