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comically-callous · 29 days ago

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The Freedom of Senselessness

Thomas Hutter x fem!vampire!Reader

A/n: Hello, hi. I saw Nosferatu on new years and yeah #needthat here’s some Thomas Hutter fan-fiction. Comms are closed, I’m sorry. Please don’t hit me.

Summary: Thomas is visited by the Count’s servant in the middle of the night.

Contains: Use of fem pronouns, reader is wearing a dress, Thomas lowkey cheating on Ellen like emotionally (sorry not sorry), nightmares, reader bites Thomas, blood, Thomas is scared out of his mind of the count, reader is depressed as shit about being a vampire and alludes to killing herself for like half a second, reader blames herself for her misfortunes, sub behavior from Thomas because I’m a self indulgent FREAK. Let me know if I missed anything

Thomas woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air as his hands balled into fists in the sheets. He could hear his own heart pounding in his ears and he clenched at his heart, fingers brushing over the puncture wounds in his chest.

What was happening to him?

He felt like he was living in a constant nightmare, constantly on edge, constantly terrified.

He shouldn’t have ever agreed to come here. But, it was all for her. For Ellen.

His fingers shakily brushed over the locket she’d given him before he left and he let out a soft sigh.

“You’re unwell.” A voice spoke up from the darkness and he jolted up with a gasp. Standing a few feet away from his bed was the Count’s servant whom he’d met the day he arrived at this god forsaken place. The woman was far less intimidating than her master, her presence bringing a sort of comfort to Thomas.

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She said, stepping closer to him, into the moonlight that streamed into the room through a large window.

“How long have you been here?” Thomas asked breathlessly.

“I’ve just come in.” Y/n replied. Thomas questioned to himself for a moment if that was true. He hadn’t heard her enter the room. “I heard you from my bedroom and you sounded distressed. I thought I’d come check on you.” She looked him over and Thomas found himself shifting uncomfortably under her gaze. “You’re having nightmares.” She stated.

“I—“ Thomas nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am…. How did you….?”

“All of our guests tend to have similar troubles.” She says. “Nightmares, restlessness, paranoia. A general unease.”

Thomas didn’t reply for a moment. His thoughts were jumbled and frantic, and he had to collect himself before he could speak again.

“I need to leave this place.” He finally said. “As soon as possible.” He realized how rude he must’ve sounded and quickly added on. “My wife, I haven’t been able to write to her. She must be worried for me.”

Y/n seemed to take in his words, eyes drifting to the floor before going back to him. “Leave when the sun rises.” She said. “That would be best.”

Thomas’ thoughts were still in a frenzy. But, he knew he had to tell this woman about his suspicions regarding her master. “Y/n,” He began. “You must forgive me for…. How manic I must seem. But,” He slowly got out of bed and ran a hand through his unkempt hair. “From the moment I arrived here, your employer has…. Deeply unsettled me. He’s appeared in every one of my dreams, terrorizing me, and…. I know it sounds quite fantastical. But, I think he may be….” Thomas couldn’t even bring himself to say it. “He may be a-“

“Vampire.” Y/n finished, voice coming out almost in a whisper.

Thomas’ eyes widened. “I…. Yes.” He furrowed his brows. “You knew?”

“I’ve known for a long time.” She confirmed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Thomas’ brows creased and he opened his mouth to ask another question before Y/n began to explain. “I was young and foolish when I agreed to work for him. He’d promised me so much. Power, protection, acceptance. I signed my life away to him. I did all of his bidding, waited on him hand and foot, anything, everything he asked. I wish to god I’d never agreed to it all, it became unbearable. One day, I tried to leave, to run away and….” She shook her head, chest rising and falling slowly.

“And….?” Thomas urged her on, taking a step closer to her.

“It upset him. Infuriated him. He cursed me for it.” She continued.

“Cursed you?”

“To be the same monster that he is. To never step into the sun again, to starve for a hunger that I cannot bring myself to satiate.” Her voice shook with each word that she uttered.

Thomas was admittedly a bit frightened at that. The same monster that he is. A vampire. But, there was something else that stirred in him. Part of it was sympathy, a voice inside of his mind telling him to comfort her. But, another part of it was a strange intrigue, an allure despite it all. Before he could think not to, he was sitting next to her in the bed.

“I’m sorry.” He said.

“No, it’s my own fault.” Y/n sighed. “If I only hadn’t been so foolish, things might’ve gone differently.”

“It’s still a fate that you don’t deserve”. Thomas assured her, reaching for her hand before he thought better of it and pulled back.

“It’s a fate that I don’t think I can endure for much longer.” She said softly. “Whenever I sleep, I have nightmares of becoming like him. My flesh rots away. My body dies, but my mind ceases to, and I rip into the flesh of innocent people like an animal.”

Thomas frowned. He couldn’t picture her like that, like him. “They’re only dreams.”

“They’re my future.” Her voice was unstable now, her eyes watery.

Thomas’ fingers twitched at his sides, itching to soothe her. But, he only offered a few soft reassuring words as the woman collected herself.

She took a deep breath and wiped at the corners of her eyes. “Forgive me. I’ve never told another soul about all of this…. Misfortune. I didn’t know I’d become so hysterical speaking about it.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

Y/n sighed softly. “Your kindness is admirable. Most men would drive a stake through my heart if they were given the chance.”

“I’d never do that to you.” Thomas said softly. “Er— I’d never do that to anyone, I mean.” He tried quickly to change the subject. “I…. I think the Count has been…. Biting me.” When Y/n didn’t immediately reply, he began to unbutton his shirt, showing her the punctures in his chest. She stared for a moment before she silently reached out and brushed her fingers over the wounds. Thomas hoped to god that she didn’t notice the shiver that ran down his spine in response to her touch.

“Yes. He used to do the same to me.” She spoke softly and her gaze never left his chest, almost as if she were in a daze.

“….Y/n?”

She blinked a few times before exhaling softly. She took her hand away from his chest. “I’m so sorry, I…. Lost myself for a moment.” Y/n said as she brought her gaze back up to meet his.

“It’s alright. It’s in your nature.” Thomas said, buttoning his shirt back up. “Um, your appetite for blood, I mean.”

“I wish it weren’t.” She sighed. “It makes me feel awful…. Disgusting-“

“You aren’t.” He interrupts. “Not a monster, not disgusting. You’re….” He trailed off. Y/n waited for him to continue and when he didn’t, she spoke again.

“I just can’t…. I have to force myself to do it, and even then the guilt of it all makes me sick.”

Thomas was quiet for a moment. The words he wanted to say seemed to get stuck in his throat, slowly edging to the tip of his tongue until he mustered up the courage to speak. “Is there anyway that I can help?”

That seemed to stun Y/n for a moment. Thomas knew what he was implying with his words and she seemed to know too. And, though it was a foolish thing to hope for, he wanted her to accept his offer.

“Help?” She repeated.

“Yes,” Thomas replied a bit too quickly. “Anything that I can do, anything.”

Y/n was silent for another moment, eyes dropping to his throat before snapping back to meet his unwavering gaze. “No.” She said softly.

A pang of disappointment hit Thomas. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” He said sincerely, deciding to leave out the fact that he wouldn’t mind her hurting him if it meant he could help her. “And I know you need this.” He added.

He heard her breath quiver as she sighed. “I can’t.”

Thomas thought carefully about his next words. Every logical part of him was telling him to hold his tongue. But, in the end, the irrational side of him let the words spill from his lips. “Would you reconsider if I told you I wanted you to?”

Y/n didn’t say anything. She was silent for what felt like an eternity, her gaze had shifted to her hands that nervously fidgeted in her lap. The silence lingered long enough for Thomas to begin regretting his words. He thought himself a fool for being so bold. He was about to apologize when Y/n finally spoke up.

“On your neck?” She asked in almost a whisper as if she were afraid someone would hear.

Thomas faltered for a moment before replying. “Anywhere you’d like.”

She took a deep breath before turning to him, her gaze searching for any signs of insincerity. Thomas held her gaze, anticipating her next move.

“I’ll hurt you.” She told him.

“I’ll heal.” He replied. “You need this.”

She stared for another moment, gaze slowly shifting to something more vulnerable. And finally, she moved closer. She was slow and cautious with her movements; whether the reason was for fear of hurting him or fear that he’d hurt her, Thomas wasn’t sure. One of her hands came up to the back of his neck, fingers gently brushing against Thomas’ nape. His eyes fluttered shut briefly and his head tilted back. Y/n leaned in and Thomas felt her cold breath hit his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. The moment lingered before Y/n spoke.

“Make me stop if I hurt you.” She said softly.

“Yes.” Thomas replied, voice barely above a whisper.

She finally leaned in and placed her mouth on his neck, teeth grazing against his throat before sinking into the side of his neck. The first thing he noticed was how cold the feeling was, like ice piercing into his skin and flowing through his entire body. His breath hitched, another shiver ran down his spine. His hands almost instinctively moved to pull her closer, body aching for her warmth (or maybe just for her).

Next, the pain hit him, stinging pain in his neck that made him whimper and gasp, hands now balling into her dress to anchor himself.

And finally, he felt wonderfully numb. Thomas sighed softly, the sound coming out more like a moan when it fell from his lips. His grip on her dress loosened and moved to gently hold her waist, head leaning back as his eyes became half lidded. His jaw was slack, soft pants spilling out of his mouth along with occasional mutterings.

“Y-you need this—“ He’d say, words slurring together as if he were drunk off of the sensation of being bitten. “Need this….” He repeated and it was unclear to the both of you if he was referring to you again or to himself. “Take it…. From me- god….” He seemed to be completely blissed out, all sense and shame no longer concerning him.

He almost didn’t even realize when Y/n had pulled away. He blinked a few times, breath coming in and out quickly. He gazed at her and her blood stained lips and only then seemed to realize how undignified he’d been. His cheeks flushed and he brought a hand up to his neck, feeling the punctures her teeth had left. He wondered if they’d turn into scars. Parts of this night that would stay with him forever.

“I….” Y/n broke the silence. “Hope I didn’t take this too far.” She stood from her spot on the bed, brushing her thumb over her lips to wipe away the blood that remained there.

“Er, no. No, of course not.” Thomas stammered.

She nodded. “Good.” Another silence fell over them. The tension between the two was palpable and hard to ignore. Perhaps Y/n realized this and decided to end things right then. “…. Well, if our…. Transaction is complete, then I should be going. It’ll be daylight soon.”

He wanted to ask her to stay. He felt safer with her in this place. But, another part of him, perhaps the more sensible part, told him that it wasn’t a good idea. He’d just allowed her bite and drink from him without needing any persuasion. He was the one to suggest it, actually. He was becoming irrational around her, indulging in the thoughts in his mind that he’d normally never even dare to speak aloud. Asking her to stay with him was another one of those thoughts.

So, he swallowed down his words and nodded his head. “Yes. I’ll….” He almost told her he’d see her in the morning. But, then he remembered her suggestion to leave the castle when the sun was risen. A hopeful part of him thought that maybe she’d leave with him. He’d bring her back to Wisborg where she could live a normal life, one that she deserved. But, the rational part of him knew that if she was able to leave, she would’ve done so long ago.

So, he uttered what would most likely be his last words to her. “Goodbye.”

Y/n paused before repeating. “Goodbye.” She walked toward the door and turned back to him to say one last thing before leaving him on his own.

“Thank you.”

#fanfiction #x reader #nosferatu x reader #thomas hutter x reader #Thomas Hutter fanfiction #nosferatu fanfic #Nosferatu fanfiction

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zoeykallus · 1 year ago

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A bit of a specific ask: the f! Jedi General assigned to squad 99 survived because of them and is still mourning weeks later. But she keeps it to herself because the clones couldn't possibly understand how her connection to the Jedi through the force just heightens the grief. She’s been frustrated and lashing out (sensory overload?) and Hunter finally tries to soothe his General that he’s always held a flame for. she didn’t realize it but Hunter gets it. The overload when sensory input is just too much. Maybe starting as fluff then progressing to more passionate/masochism as she releases the anger? I can just imagine pulling in that delicious hair of his and hearing him talk about how he can smell her

😳

Uhm, let me try 😅

Wasn't sure how far I should go, so I was kinda careful and just hinted some things (mostly).

Hunter x Jedi Fem! Reader One-shot - Perceptions And Senses

Warnings: Strongly Suggestive/Fluff/Sensory Play (Is that a thing?)/ 18+

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Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

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You are still here, days after Order 66 reached its climax. The loss still sits deep in your bones, like an echo the death cries of so many, like one, resound muffled within you. Far away, yet buried so deep inside you. You have become very silent, more silent than the boys of CF 99 are used to from you. But they let you grieve in peace, they can imagine that you are suffering, even if they can hardly grasp the extent of it. They can't empathize with how you feel, how the Force acts as an amplifier of all this death, this grief. You lose your patience more quickly, sometimes you get frustrated, you react gruffly to your surroundings, even if you regret it shortly after. No one blames you. But Hunter seeks your closeness more often, quietly, gently, unobtrusively. You enjoy his closeness, he's like a calm pole, something to orient yourself to when the spiral of painful echoes pulls you along again. You sit under a tree not far from the Marauder, but out of its sight. You try to organize your thoughts, to take a breath, maybe to meditate, but your thoughts are so jumbled, so painful, they just won't calm down.

"Are you okay?" You look up startled, you were so focused on yourself that you didn't even notice Hunter. "Sure," you say quietly. Hunter looks at you scrutinizingly and says, "Why don't you tell me the truth?" You frown critically and are about to react angrily, but you see his gentle expression and restrain yourself. He sits down with you and says calmly, "General Skywalker once told me that the Force can be overwhelming, especially when there are many negative things happening around you. The Force amplifies perception, and something like sensory overload can happen as a result." You blink, then sigh, anticipating what Hunter is getting at. "Put simply, I suppose that may be partially true," you say quietly. He nods and explains, "Through my senses, I have that sometimes, too. Depending on where we are traveling, unpleasant smells, sounds, vibrations overlap. It can throw a guy off balance quite a bit." "You perceive almost everything, don't you?" you ask, curious.

"Yeah, pretty much. I can smell hormones, fear, body odors, just about anything. Metallic noises can be hell, and the vibrations in big cities sometimes give me a violent headache. Some days several of these things overlap at once. It can get on my nerves." You look at him and say quietly, "The Force is my friend, but sometimes my torturer. When Order 66 was executed, so many Jedi died, I felt them all, heard their echoes, felt them just disappear. I still feel and hear the echoes sometimes, coupled with this feeling of emptiness, of loss." He gently reaches for your hand and says, "I'm no expert, but maybe you need an outlet, something to blow off steam, empty your head" "I don't know if it's that easy," you say doubtfully. "I didn't say it was easy." You sigh, then ask curiously, "You can smell me too can't you?" "Yes, of course," Hunter says with a small smirk. "What do I smell like when I retreat, like today?" you want to know.

"Hmm," Hunter thinks for a moment and says, "It's a sour smell, slightly bitter, something that blends into your actual smell, which is actually much more pleasant" "Oh," you say quietly, "So you like my smell?" "Usually yes" His voice has taken on that tone again, low, deep, slightly smoky. It tingles under your skin and you feel warm. You look at him and he smiles again. "I can smell when you're taken with me too....." Your eyes grow wide for a moment. "Taken?" "Aroused." Your mouth pops open, but no words pass your lips for the first moment. He continues to speak with that one pitch, "When I speak in that voice, your body immediately responds" You blink and say, "So you're trying to manipulate me right now?" He shrugs gently and says, "A little bit maybe, I want to make you feel better." You feel a little annoyance, but also more of that strange warmth, you feel strong impulses that you can't place, and you reach out of one and grab his hair. Hunter tears open his eyes in startlement, but he doesn't fight back. Suddenly, he throws himself forward, your hand still in his long, dark hair.

Your heart is racing wildly, it's so warm, it's tingling, it feels surprisingly good, whatever this is. His face in the hollow between your shoulder and neck, he takes a deep breath and murmurs, "rage, arousal." It happens automatically, your thighs wrap around his hips and he presses even closer to your body, you feel the hard codpiece clearly between your legs. The heat concentrates on the triangle between your thighs, you feel the tingling as your muscles tense and automatically your body seeks even more contact with him. You whisper to him, "Can you make me forget, if only for a moment?" Hunter growls softly, close to your neck, "I think I can, but are you sure that's what you want?" "Yes, I'm sure." His hands are so fast under the fabric of your clothes that you almost feel dizzy. His touches are demanding, yet gentle. Hunter seems to know exactly what he's doing.

His fingers glide over your skin, each touch leaving a small, tingling firework. You open your mind, feel him very clearly, the desire, the lust he feels, the affection towards you. It feels so intense to perceive him in this way, his presence, his sensation spreads like balm over every dark corner of your mind. You concentrate fully on him, his touch, his perceptions and let yourself fall.

"Hunter?" "Yes, love?" "These moments when I need your distraction may well happen more often," you hint.

Hunter gently bites your neck, sending a shiver through your body before saying, "That's okay, I'm ready for you anytime"

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ramblingzombpossum · 4 months ago

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I keep going back to something from therapy today. During morning check in we have to write how we're feeling, it's literally "What is your mood today?" and today, I just didn't know. I was flipping from one mood to another so fast that I couldn't wrap my mind around one emotion or mood.

When I wrote "I don't know" I expected a bit of push back, someone to tell me that's not acceptable, there is no way I can't know. We all know how we feel right?

Well, instead the therapist smiled and said "That's ok." They know I have schizophrenia, and apparently I've lived with it all my life. When I apologized she insisted I didn't have a reason to, it's ok to not know how you feel.

One of the points my one on one therapist is hammering home, is when I say "I don't know" people are going to be confused. People who aren't schizophrenic DO NOT understand. I grew up with it, I've learned to adapt and hide it.

Hallucinations are weird? Ok, I'm not going to talk about it, or I may draw attention I don't want. Hearing things isn't normal? Alright, we chalk that up to 'keep to yourself and hide.' Oh, the random moments of "Lol I could just die" or "Man I could sleep and never wake up" aren't necessarily normal? Cool, that will not be spoken about. (That last one is common in a lot of things, but it's thoughts I can remember having as young as sixish.)

But the phrase "I don't know" has always been demonized to me.

"Why did you do that?" "I don't know" "NO you absolultely know why, so why did you do that?!" It was a rather common reaction, from everyone. For years, because in most people's minds, they know.

Before I got medicated, I didn't realize how bad it was, how I would sit there, and just not know what I was doing. I'd have moments of full unawareness, and I still do at times. I dissociate, something I never knew what it meant until I was forced to acknowledge it. I go off into my own world and completely disconnect from life, going on basically auto pilot.

Sometimes I'll do something, and I will have a reason, but after doing it, I have no idea WHY. My brain doesn't work right, it never has, and I learned the easiest way to avoid it, was withdrawing. I could just not talk, I could just live in my mind and be fine. As an adult this doesn't work, it makes life harder, it makes everything harder. I literally sit at home sometimes and just lose time. I've become obsessed with time checking, to make sure I wasn't off in my mind for hours.

Even now I have an aversion to "I don't know" even if it's the truth. I find myself scrambling for a believable lie because "I don't know" is unacceptable, it is very much a sin. No one has a brain so broken that they don't know.

But I do, I don't know why I do a lot of things. I don't know why I say things sometimes, or why my brain jumps to something completely out of left field.

Someone asked me to describe my thought process on something, and it went a little like... A needs to happen for B to happen, but if C occurs then A will be ruined, and B can't happen, so obviously I need to do Y, D, F, G, and L before anything else to make sure that A can happen.

None of it makes sense, none of it comes together, but my brain is so loud and jumbled, even with anti-psychotics I have auditory and visual hallucinations. Not as bad as it once was, but it happens. I can hear voices as if someone is standing over my shoulder, telling me just to stop. Give up. Let my body crumble, and cease existence. No one will ever care, no one will miss me.

I know this isn't true, I fight against it daily.

Sometimes I turn around in my house while I'm alone and think someone is standing in the kitchen. Nothing solid, a shadowing form in the vague shape of a person that catches me off guard, but I've learned not to show my fear. How can I react to things when others don't see them? That's weird, and society says we should never be weird. How does one explain when they want to just hunker down, grasp their head and scream to drown out the voices? How does one explain what it's like to be plagued with things, delusions of being immortal, delusions of everyone hating you. The idea that in this life you'd be more of a contribution as a memory than a living being. The paranoia of what everyone wants. The paranoia of not knowing what is and isn't actually happening. The Paranoia that you're going to say the wrong thing, and wind up hospitalized because 'you're not normal.'

There is nothing fun about this, there is nothing easy. I've been fighting a silent battle for who knows how long, and a lot of people say I'm strong for being open. I'm not being strong, I'm being weak, because I'm tired. I'm so very tired, and I don't want to be strong anymore. I want to lay down, I want to have a day where I'm not constantly shifting through my thoughts, where I'm not trying to decide if the person next to me is talking to me, or if its one of the voices trying to tear me down. I don't want to be convinced that everyone is out to get me, that everyone will leave, everyone is just using me in some way.

I'm just tired, I'm tired and I don't know what I feel. I keep going because I want Bean to know it's ok. I want her to never worry about asking for help. I want her to realize, sometimes we all have battles we don't share, and that's ok, but it's also ok to ask for help.

In the end, I'm tired, confused, and I will never be able to answer everything, unless I'm allowed to be honest and say "I don't know."

#rambles #zombpossum rambles #rambling #Schizophrenia #Trying to put words to my thoughts #it of course doesn't work #my mom really fucked me on the not being able to not know honestly

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sastielsfandom · 2 years ago

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Will The Stars Watch Over Me?

Sam could hear Dean and Bobby laughing about something in the living room. He wished he could focus on it, but all he thought about was the panic room. A looming reminder of why his craving was a bad idea.

He stepped out ages ago, walking around the property, pacing back and forth, biting his nails into nothing.

Reminding himself of the way he hated the taste of the sulfur, how it remained on his tongue hours later. The power felt great, the electric energy that flowed through his veins. But it wasn't enough. Not to go through a detox like that again.

Unsurprisingly, he found himself lying on top of the Impala, ignoring the cold metal, covering his exposed skin so he could gaze up without distraction.

The sky... If only words could explain the starry night that he reached up for. Stars crossed the entire sky, the moon stood tall, nearly full.

The stars swirled around in his mind, he pieced together the memorized figures him and Dean learned together. Despite knowing he's near, safe inside the only place they've called home, he felt lonely staring at the endless sky.

He sighed, remembering when he thought about the time he believed the stars were angels peering down at them. Watching humanity, watching over them as guardians, just like when he was younger, he prayed to them.

An open prayer that his thoughts cried out for, a dam of emotions pouring out. Wishing for salvation, how does one become clean? What does he need to do? He'll do it! God knows he would, given the opportunity.

Just give him the strength, tell him his duties, what is owed and he'll pay the price. He can't handle being a monster, it's the thought that appears whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Don't let that be his reality.

Dean sees it now, his Dad always did. Maybe his Mom saw it to, Hell, if it wasn't for Dean being here, Bobby would tell him to stay away. He's sure of it.

His hands are bleeding for salvation, does anyone see it? He can be good, what's the sign? Where does he have to be to be washed clean of his sins?

There was someone who heard every single word Sam prayed, his longing for something holy to ease his pains, Castiel touched down on Earth.

Following the voice that called out for salvation so loudly, so earnestly. It was devotion that even angels lack.

It led Castiel to the Impala, sitting in Bobby Singers yard. Where Sam laid, crying to the stars with the hope that dwindled every day.

"Sam?" Castiel called out. Normally Sam would turn at the sound of Castiel's wings, but he didn't hear them. He jumped hearing Castiel's voice, rushed to wipe of the loose tears that flowed down his face. Sitting up as if the Impala was now scorching hot.

He shook off his thoughts that were stuck in his throat, "Hey, Cas, Dean is inside."

"I'm aware," Castiel said, Bobby Singer and Dean Winchester were both soundly asleep. One of the parties snoring loudly, "I... I came to see you."

"I'm not doing anything I'm not supposed to," Sam said, laying back down, hands wiping his face, "Just... Staring at the sky."

There were many things Castiel wanted to say, but couldn't. Too many things jumbled together, the only phrase that made sense was one, "May I join?"

"Huh? Uh, yeah, yeah, of course," Sam said, scooting over, "Of course you can."

Castiel had intended to stay where they stood, but decided to take Sam's invitation to sit next to him, "It's a beautiful night."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, his mind tried to think of words that would suffice and paint their beauty but he couldn't think of anything. He let the idea go, letting the attempt die off his tongue.

Castiel took in the night sky, seeing more than Sam could, "I would pray to them too."

"I didn't, I didn't think it would be heard," Sam admitted, keeping his eyes locked onto the night.

Castiel looked at Sam's face that glowed beautifully underneath the sky's light, "Any angel could hear it, but many wouldn't listen."

"But you did?"

"Of course," Castiel said, looking back up at the stars, "the prayer came from you."

It sounded so simple and sincere, it took away Sam's breath, if it were anyone else, Sam wouldn't believe it. But Castiel is known for his bluntness and honesty, Sam had to believe it.

Castiel felt Sam shiver as a breeze flew into the, sending chills over both, "You're cold and tired," Castiel evaluated, "you should rest."

"In a minute," Sam said, his head spinning from Castiel's words. It almost sounded as if he was important to Castiel, but that couldn't be. Not in the way Sam wished to be.

Castiel carefully nudged Sam, "It's been a minute."

Knowing Castiel, it had been exactly one minute, Sam let out a sigh that hid his laugh, "Okay, yeah, it has been."

Sam sat up, finding Castiel's hand extended towards him, as they stood on the ground already. Sam didn't need it, but took it. Relishing in the warmness that was radiating off of Castiel.

One he planned to cherish for the brief moment, but Castiel didn't drop his hand, instead, Castiel led them inside.

Walking through the house, hand in hand, Sam could tell immediately the other two called it a night. Neither where they had been when he first got some fresh air.

Sam didn't know where Castiel was going until he stood in the room Bobby cleared out for him long ago, where he's laid his head plenty of times. Sam didn't know Castiel knew this was his space, and only once they were in, did Castiel let go.

Unwilling to let himself feel disappointed, Sam shed off his extra layers and shoes. Feeling a little awkward with Castiel right there watching, but he didn't want the angel to leave quite yet.

He delayed getting in bed, placing away his belongings that he'd normally wait to do in the morning. Walking slower than he needed to, but Castiel didn't say anything about it. So Sam didn't.

Castiel stood there waiting as Sam slipped into his bed, once Sam was content, as snug as could be, Castiel walked over. Pulling the covers up a little higher, "Good night, Sam."

Sam's eyelids were heavy, he yawned, welcoming the familiar feeling of falling, "Good night, Castiel."

Unsure if the words made it past his mind as his breathing evened out. While it was the cue to leave, Castiel stayed, hiding their visibility, sitting close by.

Castiel can't wash away everything Sam prayed for, can't give him that salvation, but he could keep the nightmares at bay. And hopefully, with their words, make him see the hero he is.

#sam winchester #castiel #sastiel #samstiel #samcas #sastiel fanfic #Writing!!!#I love it!!#Ignore me saying I hated it yesterday

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starrygemi · 10 months ago

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Taylor Swift songs that remind me of Stephanie Brown

Just finished up Steph’s pre-n52 appearances, so I have a right to do this now /lh /hj

These are songs that REMIND me of Stephanie Brown! The short list version without explanation, then the explanation in the second half. I tried very much to be unbiased, as most songs I listen to have imagery of Steph (or TimSteph) right now. Again, songs that REMIND me of her. I don’t think she’d like Taylor deeply, and honestly, I don’t think that hard towards what character would listen to.

Better Man tolerate it Dear John Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve A Place In This World* The Outside this is me trying* Tell Me Why* Fifteen Never Grow Up You’re On Your Own, Kid

When you fall in love with a character so deeply, every other interest you’ve had starts intermixing into and with them. Quite literally, everything starts reminding you of them, and your mind is just jumbled with all your interests trying to redirect it back to the character you’ve fallen in love with—and when you like something that the majority of the fandom dislikes, it’s kinda sad.

I’m not going to get into it, because this is a DC/Stephanie post—so just be nice to each other <3

Anyway! Lighter notes! I think Stephanie would be a Speak Now and Fearless girlie. I love Speak Now, so that may be a bias I have there. (Also Speak Now’s purple, soooo… /lh) This post also will not have anything from TTPD, because I need that to marinate a little longer. If I feel any of those songs fit Steph, I’ll add a reblog to this.

I've gotten a headache trying to figure out what's not allowing this to show up in tags, so here are just the screenshots of what I wrote. I can't keep "/"ing words 🤮🤮

Honorable Mentions:

I do think there are many songs from Taylor’s discography that can relate to Steph, but these were the ones’ that made it to my short playlist. In actuality, these are in honorable mentions, because I can't re-explain what's clearly given or I couldn’t articulate my reasoning properly, so you get this <3

A Place In This World "I'm alone, on my own, and that's all I know / I'll be strong, I'll be wrong, oh but life goes on / Oh, I'm just a girl, trying to find a place in this world" "Maybe I'm just a girl on a mission / But I'm ready to fly"

this is me trying "I didn't know if you'd care if I came back" "That this is me trying / At least I'm trying"

Tell Me Why "You took a swing, I took it hard / And down here from the ground, I see who you are" "You tell me that you love me, then cut me down" "But you know you got a mean streak / That makes me run for cover when you're around" "Why do you have to make me feel small / So you can feel whole inside?"

If for whatever reason you got here—please befriend me if you like Taylor and DC, I’d love to be friends 😭 If you have any Taylor songs that remind you of Steph (or honestly any of the Batfam), let me know!!! Because that’d be fun to dissect together!!

In regards to TTPD, I’ll reblog and add those later, but for now, I really still need to digest the album.

If I get attached and infatuated on a ship, they are no longer safe from every song being related back to them, so erm...I plan to do a “Taylor Swift songs that remind me of TimSteph,” because I already have a playlist for them 💀

#dc #dc comics #stephanie brown #taylor swift

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 1 year ago

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Normal: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Summary: Another lunch with your parents reveals something that’s been locked in your head, but your dad makes you confused and jumbles up the truth. It’s hard enough to focus on a case with a deranged man killing people on the road, you don’t need family drama on top of it.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

"Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin to slit throats." - H.L. Mencken

Hotch requested everyone to meet at the plane instead of in the briefing room like normal. You're running a bit late since your go-bag wasn't properly prepared, but luckily, you had some time to waste. You get out of your car when your phone rings, telling you that you have a message.

You take your phone out to read the message your father sent you.

Can we meet up again? Are you going to be near us?

I'll be in Orange County. Any chance you can come down to me?

I have some business in town. I'll let you know when we can meet up. I'd prefer it if it were just you.

Sure.

You don't want to tell Spencer you're doing this because that would only upset him further. You'll tell him you're going out to lunch and would be right back. You enter the plane and see everyone is already there.

"Sorry, I had a bit of a delay."

You put your bag in the compartments where everyone else's bags are and join Spencer's side who saved you a seat. As soon as you're settled in, the pilot starts to take off. When you're at cruising altitude, Jordan begins the briefing.

"Ten days ago in Orange County, California, Judy Hannity who is a real estate broker, and a mother was injured by a shotgun on the 91 freeway."

"Did she survive this?"

"Barely. She's paralyzed from the waist down. The second and third victims were both DOA. There were different vehicles for each shooting. A small black SUV, a black sedan, and a white sedan with no makes and no plates."

"Any reliable witnesses?"

"The first victim described the shooter as a normal, middle-aged white guy in an SUV."

"She gave that description but she couldn't remember anything else?" Hotch asks.

"Isn't that consistent with trauma?" Jordan asks.

"No, actually. Trauma victims either remember everything or nothing," you state. "I'm confused, though. The third victim was shot last week and we just got the phone call now?"

"Until the third shooting, the locals weren't convinced it was a serial shooter. There were different cars, and in the first shooting there was a different weapon."

"It's the same weapon," Rossi corrects Jordan. "The shot pattern on the second and third one may be wider, but he sawed off the shotgun. It's the same shooter. He's evolving quickly."

"The media has already dubbed him the Road Warrior."

"That explains why they wanted us there so quickly. This type of unsub is the hardest to catch. His victims are impersonal to him. One-third of the time, he flees with his vehicle, another third is that the victim's cars are a wreck, and the last third is the road that's contaminated by all the other cars that drive over it."

"How do we get him?" Jordan asks.

"We build a solid profile. We release it to the public with an appeal for help. Somebody knows this guy."

When the plane lands in Orange County, you're taken to the sheriff's station that is housing all the victim's cars. The detective on the case is eagerly waiting for your arrival, and when she sees you, she immediately heads over. The victim's cars are to your right, and you have to take a deep breath to prevent yourself from being overwhelmed.

"Thea Salinas, sheriff's county homicide. I'm running the task force."

"I'm Special Agent Jordan Todd, and they are Special Agents Rossi, Hotchner, Prentiss, Morgan, Y/N, and he's Dr. Spencer Reid."

"Are these the vehicles from the shootings?" you ask.

"Yes."

"Did you set up a hotline?" Jordan wonders.

"Like you asked. We have the local stations putting the number out there. We're getting about a dozen calls an hour."

"I'll alert the media to stand by for our press conference. Excuse me."

Jordan leaves the group as Hotch, Derek, and Spencer walk over to the cars to inspect them.

"The sheriff's department and the CHP are on tac alert. We've got choppers on round-the-clock freeway patrol. The victims' vehicles come with maps, CSPs, and bullet points. Everything we got on the case is in this room."

"Anything solid on the tip line?"

"The usual nutjobs, crime buffs, and bored senior citizens. Orange County has an endless supply of three things--freeways, news coverage, and blond female luxury car owners."

"Are people pretty scared?" Emily asks.

"I could ask for a submarine and get it."

You leave Rossi and Emily's side and head over to the crashed cars. You grab and slip on some gloves so you can touch the evidence. You always get a better reading when you can touch things unless the energy is strong enough for you to paint a picture with. The crashes happened too long for that to happen, so touching the cars is the next best thing.

"What can you see?" Hotch asks you.

"Give me a minute."

You run your hands over the sharp metal carefully, and you close your eyes to focus on the energy the cars still have. Yes, the crashes happened a while ago, but there will always be energy left on them no matter what. It fades over time, but it never really leaves.

The first car is the most special since it's the first in a spree, so you might get something from it more than the others. The victims' pictures are posted on a bulletin board, so you can see the first victim in her car driving down the road. There is a car speeding toward her on her left, and when she looks over, the unsub has a shotgun in his hands. He shoots her, and the car runs into a concrete median and flips in the air, landing on the top of the car.

He's a white man, and based on the fact that you can't see his face, you know he's the unsub.

"I see her on the freeway," you tell Hotch, "and she's talking on the phone. The unsub comes speeding toward her on the left. He shoots her closed driver's window and she hits a concrete median. Her car flips and it lands on the top of the car. He drives off like nothing happened. I can only see his skin color. He's Caucasian. If another accident happens, or if I can talk to Judy, I might get more off our unsub. The first one is usually important. It's the first time he started killing, though, he never killed her."

"Good job," Hotch praises. "The first MO in the first shooting differs dramatically from the other two. The first one is in daylight on a crowded freeway."

"That's dozens of potential witnesses. It's high-risk. He got lucky."

"Well, then, he's a fast study. He sawed off his shotgun and lowered his risk by switching to nights and changing vehicles."

"What if he wasn't planning on murder the first time?" you say. "We know what he's capable of when he plans ahead, so if he's not planning to commit a crime, it makes sense for him to drive his own vehicle."

"Then why did he have a gun in the SUV if he wasn't planning to commit murder? What happened to make him pull that first trigger?" Derek asks.

"As I said," you turn to Hotch, "I need to talk to Judy."

Hotch decides in order to keep Judy from feeling overwhelmed, only he and you are going to interview her. She is still in the ICU at the local hospital, and when you get there, you see her son in the room with her.

"Ms. Hannity, I'm agent Aaron Hotchner. This is agent Y/N. We're from the FBI."

"She already told the police everything she can remember," her son quickly comes to her defense.

"Rick... it's okay," Just whispers. Hotch takes Rick outside so you can be alone with Judy. When they're gone, you take a seat next to her bed and give her a warm smile. "It's just the two of us. He feels like it's his job to protect me."

"It's good that you two have each other. I understand you spoke with the police, but I'd like to go back to the shooting if you can."

"I don't remember much. It comes back in pieces."

This is where you come in.

"May I hold your hand?"

"Why?"

"I'm a psychic. I can help you recover lost memories if you are okay with it."

"Doesn't hurt to try, I guess."

Since she is paralyzed from the waist down, she can still move her arms to reach out for you. Instead of letting her waste her energy, you grab her hand gently in between both of yours. The trauma from the accident is still very high, so you use that to help paint a more accurate picture of who this unsub is.

"So, you were angry?" you ask with your eyes closed.

"More like impatient, I guess."

Judy comes up behind the unsub in his car, but you can't see the license plate number. It's blurred out because that's not what she was focusing on. It's not the most important thing in her mind at the time, so you won't be able to see it no matter how hard you try. She slams on her horn for him being too slow, and she eventually passes him in a huff of anger. She zooms past him and gets in front of him to show him how angry she is for him being too slow.

"You cut him off?" you ask.

"Yes."

"Was there anything else? Did he swear? Did he honk? Did he threaten you in any way?"

"He tried to speak to me."

The unsub pulls next to Judy's car on the right and tries to get her to roll down her window. From the corner of her eye, the unsub looks completely blurred out. When she faces him, most of him becomes clear for you to see. She was talking to someone on the phone, so she wasn't paying attention to any defining features, but her subconscious picked up a few things that you are able to see.

The unsub is an older white man with round glasses. He is balding on the top of his head, so whatever hair he has is in the back and on the sides, but it's not much. He's wearing a suit and tie like he works in an office building. You can't see his eyes or nose, but you've gotten a lot you can use for the profile.

Based on how he's dressed and how nervous and shy he is when he talks to Judy, you know the kind of man he is.

"What did he say?" you ask.

"He couldn't say anything. I wouldn't give him a chance." She says something to him that causes him to lash out in anger. You already know the result of his anger. You open your eyes and let go of her hand. "If he hadn't seemed so normal, I wouldn't have said anything. I usually don't even use my horn, because on the road... you never know."

"I'll ask your son to come back in."

You leave the room but hold the door open for Rick.

"Is she okay?"

"She will be with you by her side. She's lucky to have you." Rick goes back into his mom's room, and you shut the door behind him. "She made it personal. She got angry at him for driving too slowly. When he confronted her, she told him off and drove off."

"Did you see what he looks like?"

"He's an older white man. If I had to guess, I'd say he's in his mid-fifties. He's balding on the top of his head, and he wore a suit and tie. I think he works in an office building of some kind. He seemed nervous to talk to her like he was not confident in himself."

"Two for two," Hotch chuckles.

You two head back to the police station where the rest are talking to Thea.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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misskikuwrites · 1 year ago

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The Next Step Ch 2

Bede/Gloria (Dressedinpinkshipping)

Tags: references to previous assault, fluff (there will be fluff I promise), angst, its a plot fic, minor hurt/comfort, flashbacks

Words: 8,447

Gloria had never planned to come here, to step foot in the prison housing Rose. She breezed through security with a million thoughts jumbling together in her mind. It had been two years. Two whole years and yet the past kept finding her. Her battle with Leon, the Darkest Day, Rose’s plan, everything was being dredged up again against her will. She didn’t want to come face to face with the man responsible for what had become her worst nightmare. A nightmare in a Pokeball, forever housed in the Pokemon Centre.

Gloria shoved those thoughts away and approached the reception counter. The receptionist’s eyes widened a fraction in recognition.

“Champion Gloria,” she said, not bothering to hide her surprise. “I don’t believe you’re scheduled for a visit.”

“I’m not,” Gloria said. “I wanted to ask some questions about one of your prisoners, actually.”

The receptionist worried her brow. “I’m not sure we can-”

“I’ll take it from here,” a commanding voice boomed from the hall to Gloria’s right. An imposingly tall woman stood by an open door, the plaque on the front reading “Prison Warden.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the receptionist replied quickly.

Gloria hoped the dreadful pounding of her heart wasn’t showing on her face, in her body language, as she headed down the hall and, following the gesture of the Prison Warden, into the office.

“It’s not often we get such high profile visitors,” the Prison Warden said. “You’re lucky it's a slow day. On any other, news of your visit would be out in the media in a second.” The door clicked shut behind the Warden, who nodded to the chair positioned in front of a fancy wooden desk. “Take a seat. I may be a Prison Warden, but even I can appreciate comfort where I can get it.” She rounded her desk and sat in the leather chair behind it.

“Thank you,” Gloria managed to say through the lump twisting itself into her throat, and took a seat.

“You, obviously, need no introductions,” the Prison Warden said. “Outside these walls, you can call me whatever or however you like.” She leant forward. “But while you have a single foot in my prison, you’ll address me with respect.”

“O-Of course!” Gloria squeaked. “Ma’am,” she added quickly.

The Prison Warden held her gaze for a long, silent moment, before she laughed. “You’re just as precious as the last one!”

Gloria gaped.

“Don’t give me that look,” the Warden said in between beats of laughter, “both you and Leon come in here like a Growlithe with its tail between its legs, I just can’t help myself!”

“Wait, Leon’s come here too?”

The Warden composed herself and nodded. “Oh, yes, he tried to visit ex-chairman Rose,” she said. “But he has severe restrictions on visitations, so we had to turn Leon away.”

“What sort of restrictions?” Gloria asked.

The Warden held Gloria’s gaze. “I think you need to tell me the exact reason for your visit. You may be the Champion, but I don’t answer to you. Not in here, at least.”

“Right.” Gloria shifted uneasily in her chair. “I… need to make sure that Rose isn’t communicating with anyone outside,” she began. “There are… certain things happening that point in his direction.”

“‘Certain things?’”

Gloria felt small under the Prison Warden’s gaze. She didn’t know how to explain why she was here without explaining everything, and she wasn’t yet ready to condemn Samuel as part of a bigger, deeper plot. If she did, then his endorsement would be…

The Warden sighed. “I’m not going to force you to say anything you’d rather not,” she said. “So ask your questions. I’ll answer them if I can, so long as I’m not breaching confidentiality.”

“Thank you!” Gloria perked up slightly as a fraction of the tension constricting her body eased. “I wanted to ask about Rose. Has he had any visitors?”

The Warden shook her head. “Given the nature of his offending, he’s only allowed one visitor - his brother - and as far as I’m aware, the man hasn’t set foot within the prison since Rose was first incarcerated.”

“What about letters? Has he sent any? Received any?”

“No. The same restriction applies - and if he had tried to send a letter, or received one, it would be thoroughly checked.”

Gloria thought to the letter she’d stuffed hastily into her pocket with the crimson ‘R’ on the front. If it wasn’t from Rose, then who…?

“What about other prisoners?” she asked. “Could they have sent a letter for him?”

The Prison Warden gave a single bark of laughter. “Ha! They’d have to speak with him first.”

“He doesn’t talk to anyone?”

“Look, we’re getting dangerously close to breaching privacy rights here - the prisoners still have those - so let me just say this: when you’re a prisoner as high profile as the ex-chairman, your every movement is watched. For your own good.”

Gloria swallowed. “Do you mean… he’s at risk?”

The Prison Warden folded her arms. “It’s hard to threaten the lives of every single person in Galar and not become a target. That’s all I’ll say.”

Gloria nodded. “Right. Thank you.”

“Whatever it is you think Rose is involved with, it’s not him,” the Warden said, an air of finality in her tone. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t push the issue. I may not run this place with an iron fist, but I sure as hell keep an eye on my prisoners. Especially prisoners like Rose.”

Gloria had no choice but to believe it. She left the prison dejectedly on her Corviknight, her investigation having run into a brick wall. For a start, she didn’t even know if the two letters - one from Samuel, the other from ‘R’ - were related. They’d arrived together, but so had a mound of flowers and presents. If she couldn’t force herself through the brick wall of the ‘R’ letter, all she had left was Samuel.

Him, at least, she could keep an eye on.

Bede downed his second coffee for the morning, wishing away the headache he could feel brewing on his forehead. He wasn’t a stranger to working on little sleep. That had been a part of his life from a young age - studying endless hours into the night in order to prove he deserved a position at the trainer’s school, to prove his worth for Rose, and later Miss Opal. What he wasn’t used to was an unintentional sleepless night. Bede wasn’t one for mulling over his mistakes into the early hours of the morning. If he’d made a mistake, he would fix it with hard work, with dedication, with study and training.

That worked for almost everything. Everything except love.

And Bede felt he’d made the biggest mistake of them all. He sighed into his coffee - first making sure no one was around to witness it - and cringed. Alone in the stadium, for no Gym Challenger had made it this far in the few days since the Challenge had started, Bede cursed himself for letting his feelings get the better of him. His Togetic fluttered up to his eye level, chirping sadly.

“I’m fine,” he said, gently patting his Pokemon on top of its head.

Yet Bede felt far from fine. He’d replayed his confession to Gloria in his mind over and over again throughout the night. It kept him awake, kept him paralysed.

What a fool he was, confessing to her? To the Champion, of all people?

He’d seen it on her face, the moment the words had left his mouth. She’d frozen. Blood had drained from her face, leaving her pale.

How could he have thought that she would share his feelings? She was the Champion. Leagues above him in every way. He’d prepared himself for her rejection the moment he’d read that in her expression, but of course the kindness in her heart spared him that - she’d asked for time. Time to prepare his heart for the inevitable shattering, was all he could think of now.

His confession had made her cry, for Arceus’ sake.

It was in his nature to break things. He’d failed his mother, left at an orphanage despite her assuring him she’d be back. He’d failed Oleana, never meeting up to her expectations, never doing enough, never being enough. And, of course, he’d failed Rose - in the Chairman’s words, failed Galar in the same stroke, having destroyed a historical monument.

It didn’t matter that failing Oleana and Rose gave him the opportunities he had now, not if he was going to destroy them as well.

He wished he could take it back. He wished to go back to that moment and swallow those fateful words before they formed on his tongue. He wished he could have realised that being in her presence, being Gloria’s friend, was enough. That someone like him, with a past as dirty and unforgiving as his, didn’t stand a chance with someone like her.

Bede had had his head in the clouds. He’d been caught up in the moment. In the desperation of the past few days. And when it was all said and done, his confession hanging in the air between them, everything had come crashing down.

The only saving grace was the fact that he now had time to figure out what to do next. How could he salvage this situation, this mess, if that was even possible? With the Gym Challenge underway, he didn’t expect to see Gloria anytime soon. He could prepare himself, and his heart, for what was to come.

Gloria landed out the front of Turffield’s Gym, recalling her Corviknight as she strode into the building. Muffled cheers filled the lobby, a Gym Battle underway in the stadium behind. Rather than watch the match from the VIP seating and risk her presence being announced, Gloria spoke with a Gym Trainer and got permission to wait for Milo in the locker room. She took a seat on a bench, waiting for the match to finish, and tried to remind herself that she wasn’t imposing herself on him. Milo had said she could rely on him, said she could ask for help at any time. She had his rare League Card, his number, to prove it.

But getting him, getting the other Gym Leaders involved with this mess… it sat uneasily in her stomach.

It wasn’t long before Milo returned to the locker room from the stadium, giving Gloria a bright smile as he pulled off his hat and mussed his curly hair.

“Hoo, that last Max Flare really brought the temperature up!” Milo said, dabbing his cheeks and forehead with a towel.

“That’s something I’ll never get used to,” Gloria said. She stood, anxiously fiddling with her Rotom Phone. “One second you can be squinting through a sandstorm, the next you’re sweating under a glaring sun!”

Milo nodded. “That’s the beauty of Dynamax Battles.”

Their conversation fell into silence, Gloria’s heart wedging in her throat. “So, um…”

“You all right?” Milo asked. His expression softened. “Is it something I can help with?”

It was now or never. Gloria quickly pulled up Samuel’s profile on her phone and held it out to Milo.

“Has this Challenger come through?” she asked.

Milo looked at the photo before shaking his head. “Not yet. I’ve only had a handful of Challengers so far.”

Gloria didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. “If he does come by, could you let me know?”

Milo handed back her phone and met her eyes. “Do you think there’s something up with this Challenger?” He was more perceptive than Gloria gave him credit for. “I could change up my team, make sure he doesn’t-”

“No, no, you don’t have to do that!” Gloria said quickly. “It’s just a… a suspicion, that’s all. I don’t know if he’s involved with-” she struggled to say his name “-Elliot.”

Milo nodded slowly. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

“Yes, thank you.” The thought of sabotaging a Challenger based on a hunch made her feel ill.

With Milo on board, Gloria headed to Motostoke’s Gym and spoke with Kabu. Like Milo, he agreed in an instant, so she soon made for Hulbury to speak with Nessa. It felt a bit like overkill, getting the first three Gym Leaders involved, but there were so many questions left unanswered about Samuel. At least now she’d be able to learn what he was like from people she trusted - and could even study how he battles in the recordings from his matches too. If she’d learnt anything from her time as Champion, it was that you can tell a lot about someone from how they battle. Not the Pokemon they use and the moves they choose, but how they express themselves. Are they taking risks, or playing it safe? Are they sacrificing one Pokemon to get that last bit of damage in? And when their Pokemon faint, how do they react? When they win or lose, what expression do they have?

Of course, that wouldn’t help in the slightest when it came to figuring out whether Samuel had anything to do with Elliot, but any information right now was better than none.

As the Sky Taxi descended towards Hulbury’s Gym, Gloria spied Nessa by the lighthouse, staring out across the water. It reminded Gloria so much of her own Gym Challenge, the memory striking her hard in the chest, nostalgia and a longing to change what had happened churning together in her gut. She swept that away as she left the Sky Taxi and approached Nessa.

The Gym Leader turned at the sound of Gloria’s footsteps, her eyes widening a fraction before her expression settled. “Oh, it’s you! That’s funny, I was just thinking about you.”

“You were?”

“Yeah.” Nessa looked out across the water. “I’d just finished talking with a friend of mine, someone I hadn’t spoken to for years.”

Gloria waited. There was something in Nessa’s tone, the depth in her eyes, that kept Gloria silent.

“See, I hadn’t known-” Nessa’s lips twisted. She sighed. “Ugh, how do I even begin?!” She ruffled her hair, exasperated, before leaning forward and gripping the railing. “I feel so, so stupid. For all these years, I thought nothing of it, when it was-” she hissed under her breath “-that bastard.”

Gloria’s heart stopped. “You mean…?”

Nessa lifted her head slightly, turned enough to meet Gloria’s eyes for a moment. “Yeah, that bastard.” She took a breath and composed herself. “My friend, she was a model like me. We met early on in our careers, basically started out together. And then we had the opportunity to be a part of this exhibition, it was the boost we needed to get our names, our faces, out there.

“But then… when it was my friend’s turn, she could barely walk straight. She made it to the end of the catwalk and vomited.”

Gloria sucked in a breath.

Nessa pulled a rueful smile. “Exactly. We’d had drinks- one drink I should say, before the show- to ‘calm our nerves,’ as they’d said, and my friend said she’d only had the one… but there were rumours, and I didn’t piece it together until my friend called.” She paused. “She’d seen the livestream. And she told me, she said ‘there’s finally evidence that he’s a scumbag,’ and I remembered who’d given us the drinks that day. ‘For our nerves.’”

Gloria felt dizzy. Like the floor beneath her feet had collapsed and plunged her into the waves.

“No one wanted to employ her after that,” Nessa said, “and we lost touch. I never… it didn’t even cross my mind that someone might’ve done that to her.”

“He did the same thing to me,” Gloria said quietly. “He said that he got bored at those kinds of events so… it was for his own entertainment.”

Nessa turned to Gloria and took her hand. “I’m so, so sorry. It shouldn’t have happened.”

Gloria’s lip trembled as a flood of tears built behind her eyes. Her heart clenched tight. “I know. But it’s- it’s over now.”

A tear slipped down Nessa’s cheek. “All because of you.” She stepped forward and pulled Gloria into a hug. “My friend said that you saved her,” she said softly, her voice cracking.

Gloria squeezed her eyes shut, feeling each tear as it escaped.

“You did what no one else could,” Nessa said, “you got him to talk, you got it on tape, and I know, I know my friend wasn’t the first of his victims. Not when he was so damn good at it.” She gave a shaky sigh, a frustrated huff of air. “Arceus, who knows how many people he’s done that to?”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Gloria said. “Your and Raihan’s instagram accounts were the stars, really.”

Nessa pulled out of their hug, her hands on Gloria’s shoulders. “Nonsense!” She quickly wiped at a tear in the corner of her eye. “You're the one that confronted him. My friend, she tried to do the same, but couldn’t even get close. He hid behind his wealth, behind an army of lawyers… he was untouchable. Even the police told her there wasn’t any evidence. The glass she’d drunk from had been taken and washed up long before she stepped foot on stage.”

Nessa’s pained expression turned into a grin. “But now, we’ve got him!” She smiled through her tears. “So, thank you, Gloria. On behalf of my friend, and me.”

Gloria didn’t know what to say. She nodded, trying not to sniffle, and dried her tears with the back of her hands.

“My friend would love to meet you,” Nessa said. “One day, when things aren’t so hectic.”

Gloria managed a smile. “I’d love that, actually.”

“Great. I wasn’t sure how to bring up the subject, but then you just appeared out of nowhere…”

“About that…”

“Is something up?” Nessa asked. “It’s not to do with that bastard, is it?”

“Well…” Gloria pressed her lips together. “It is and it kinda isn’t.”

Nessa frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Gloria brought up the picture of Samuel on her phone and showed Nessa. “Apparently he’s been endorsed by Richard Murdoch,” she said. “Elliot’s father. Who, apparently, has never endorsed a Challenger before.”

Nessa’s expression sharpened. “You think he got his endorsement from Elliot?”

“I don’t know. At the moment, nothing Samuel’s done has been related to him.”

“What do you mean? What has he done?”

Gloria shrank a little under the intensity in Nessa’s eyes. She explained quickly about the letters and how Samuel had accused Gloria after the Star Tournament. Nessa folded her arms in thought.

“That’s the day he was lying in wait for you, wasn’t it?” Nessa asked, though she already knew the answer as she huffed, “that’s one hell of a coincidence if it wasn’t planned.”

“I’m not sure that it was,” Gloria said. “Because… what he did, what he was going to do…” Automatically, her hands touched the scarf around her neck. “Why set up a plan when he was going to end things?” Gloria shivered. “I mean, I don’t know whether he was going to-” it was hard to say it. Harder to stomach it “-to kill me, or not. In the moment, I thought he was-” She choked on her words. “I thought I was going to die.”

She saw his face, felt his hands around her throat, felt the burning in her lungs. It was gone in an instant, but her body reacted as if the threat was ongoing. Her heart raced. Throat constricted. Blood pounded in her ears.

Nessa took her hand again, gave it a squeeze. “Anyone would’ve felt the same.”

“Arceus, I didn’t mean to bring it up,” Gloria said, shaking her head, trying to rid herself of those memories. “I meant to talk about Samuel, not- not that.”

“Okay, so, this Samuel kid. How can I help?”

Gloria took a breath. “I’ve spoken to Milo and Kabu about him, asked them to let me know when he comes to their Gyms. If you could keep an eye out for him, I’d appreciate it.”

“That’s easy enough,” Nessa agreed. “But why take the chance? If he’s in cahoots with Elliot, wouldn’t it be better to out his endorsement as a forgery and get him kicked out of the Challenge?”

“Because I don’t know for sure,” Gloria said. “Even if his endorsement was forged, we don’t know what he’s up to, whether there’s some deeper plot going on. At the moment, Samuel doesn’t know that we’re aware of his connection to Elliot. If we give that away, it might be harder for us to figure out what they’re planning.”

Nessa sighed. “Alright. I’ll do as you’ve asked.”

“Thank you.”

“But,” Nessa began pointedly, “the second I get even a hint of suspicion that he’s going to harm someone, whether it’s you or anyone else, I’m putting an end to it.”

Gloria had no choice but to agree to those terms. It was what she had planned to do herself, if things went sour.

After Nessa returned to her Gym, Gloria remained by the lighthouse, toying over what to do next. In regards to Samuel, it was a waiting game. As much as she hated having to wait, there wasn’t anything else she could do. She still had the letter from Samuel, along with the photo, in her pocket, as well as the ‘R’ letter. She still had more questions than answers about both of them.

Again, she thought of Miss Opal. The ex-Fairy Gym Leader was friends with Richard Murdoch, and wise in ways that at times made Gloria wonder if she was actually psychic. It made sense to get Miss Opal involved, and yet…

The chances of running into Bede at Ballonlea’s Gym were extremely high. So early into the Gym Challenge, no trainers would’ve made it to Ballonlea yet. Gloria would have to wait weeks, if not months, if she was planning on waiting until Bede was battling a Challenger to speak with Miss Opal. With the two letters burning in her pocket, she knew she couldn’t wait that long. She’d have to take a chance.

The flight to Ballonlea had Gloria’s blood buzzing with nerves. She tried not to think of Bede, of what she might say if she came across him, but her mind spun out of control with various scenarios that made her want to turn the Sky Taxi around.

Somehow, she managed to gather up the courage to enter the Gym, shooting a quick glance around to make sure Bede wasn’t in sight. She hurried over to the Gym Trainer in the lobby.

“Good afternoon, Champion Gloria!” the Gym Trainer beamed. “Are you here to see Gym Leader Bede?”

“No!” Gloria blurted out a little too quickly. “I-I’m here to see Miss Opal.”

The Gym Trainer blinked for a moment. “I believe she’s in the theatre. You can head on through, we’re not expecting any Challengers for a while.”

Gloria muttered a thank you, ducking past the Gym Trainer in her embarrassment. It didn’t take her long to find Miss Opal, as she was the only one in the theatre.

“Now, this is a surprise,” Miss Opal said, her expression warming as she saw Gloria. “I wasn’t expecting you to come by, as busy as you get with your Champion duties.” Her smile carried a hint of amusement. “Are you here to see Bede, by any chance?”

Gloria’s heart thumped, missing a beat and almost tripping her up. “No, actually, I came to see you,” she said. She thankfully managed to keep herself composed despite the torrent of emotions jostling for centre stage inside her.

“You came all this way to see little ol’ me?” Miss Opal looked at her with interest.

“Yes, since you know Richard Murdoch, I thought you might be able to answer some questions I have.”

The amusement vanished from Miss Opal’s face. “I see. Am I right that these questions have something to do with Richard’s son?”

“Sort of,” Gloria conceded. “They’re more to do with this guy.” She pulled out her phone, showing Miss Opal the photo she’d taken of Samuel’s Challenger profile, along with the identity of the person who’d endorsed him.

“Now, that is interesting,” Miss Opal said after studying the information for a moment.

Gloria nodded. “From what I’ve heard, Richard Murdoch hasn’t endorsed anyone before.”

“That’s right. While he’s happy to sponsor talented kids to go through Trainers School, as far as I’m aware, he’s been against personally endorsing any such kids for the Challenge,” Miss Opal said.

“That’s… what I thought,” Gloria said, sighing. “Which means the endorsement is probably from-”

“Gloria?”

Her heart stopped. Bede stood in the door to the theatre, staring at her. He glanced at Miss Opal for a split second before walking up to them.

“H-Hi, Bede,” Gloria squeaked. Her tongue tied itself into knots. Her lungs filled with air, fluttering as if she’d swallowed a hoard of Butterfree.

“You’re not bothering Miss Opal, I do hope,” he said, raising an eyebrow at her. He was acting the same as usual, nonplussed by her sudden appearance in his Gym, as if he hadn’t professed his feelings for her the day before.

“Of course not,” Miss Opal answered before Gloria could untie the knots from her tongue. “She was merely asking me about this Gym Challenger.”

Before Gloria could stop Miss Opal, or even stammer out a protest, the ex-Gym Leader handed Gloria’s phone to Bede.

“Who is this?” Bede asked, and Gloria saw the moment he read the endorsement note. His expression darkened, his eyes snapping to Gloria. “You’re kidding me. This can’t be real.”

A sharp chill ran down Gloria’s spine. She nodded stiffly under his gaze. “It is. He’s the one who… made those accusations the other day,” she said. “He’s also the one who wrote the letter you got.” She dug out the letter she’d found amongst her gifts and held it out to Bede. “He also sent me this.”

Bede all but snatched the letter from her, cold fury in his eyes. He scanned it quickly, huffed at the photo. “We need to call the League,” he said. “And get his endorsement revoked.”

“No!” Gloria protested. “We can’t just do that.”

“Except we can.” Bede folded his arms. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t reveal this kid as a fraud, when he’s clearly motivated enough to do the same to you.”

“Now, now,” Miss Opal said, “why don’t you let her explain her reasons first?” She gave Gloria a warm smile, but it did nothing to break the ice forming around her heart.

“He hasn’t done anything yet,” Gloria said, before seeing the expression of incredulity on Bede’s face. “I mean he hasn’t violated any rules.”

“Forging an endorsement is against the rules,” Bede said.

“You know that’s not what I mean!”

“Who knows what this kid is capable of, or what Elliot has put him up to?”

Gloria clenched her jaw. “We don’t know that he’s been put up to anything yet!”

“You can’t seriously be this naive,” Bede huffed. “The fact that he’s clearly endorsed by someone who wished you harm is enough evidence as it is! We should have him kicked out, whether the damn endorsement is forged or not.”

“That’s unfair!” Gloria huffed. “Why should he have to pay just because he’s endorsed by Elliot?”

“He should pay for exactly that reason.”

“But that’s-” Heat surged up Gloria’s throat. “That’s like saying you should pay because Rose is a criminal.”

She knew the moment she’d said it that it was a mistake.

“Don’t bring Rose into this,” Bede said, his voice cold. “What he did to me has nothing to do with this.”

“I-I didn’t mean…” She couldn’t figure out what to say.

Bede sighed sharply. He thrust the letter, and Gloria’s phone, into her hands and turned away. “It doesn’t matter. You obviously didn’t want my input on the situation in the first place,” he said. “I can see when I’m not needed.”

Bede stormed off, the door to the theatre slamming behind him, making Gloria wince. She bit back the tears stinging in her eyes, wishing she could take it all back.

“I’m sure he’ll come ‘round,” Miss Opal said, gently touching Gloria’s back. “I’ll have a word with him about taking that sort of tone with young ladies-”

“No, it’s alright,” Gloria said. She shoved the letter and her phone into her pockets. “I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have mentioned Rose. I just- he wouldn’t listen, so I thought maybe if I used Rose as an example he might understand, but…”

Arceus, why had she done that? What a way to hit Bede where it hurts.

Despite Miss Opal’s attempts to reassure and comfort Gloria, she left Ballonlea’s Gym with her heart in more turmoil than before. Tears burned behind her eyes. She found a quiet spot by the entrance to Glimwood Tangle and plopped down out of sight on a mossy rock in case she couldn’t hold back her tears. A mixture of regret and indignation swirled inside her. Yes, it had been a mistake to mention Rose, but Bede hadn’t listened, hadn’t understood, a single thing she’d said. For someone who was supposedly in love with her, she couldn’t understand why he’d immediately jumped to argue with her. And the way he’d stormed out, the look on his face… The Bede who’d confessed the day before and the Bede who’d argued with her were hard to reconcile in her mind.

She couldn’t make sense of it.

It wasn’t long until frustration won over Gloria’s regret, and she worked her way through Glimwood Tangle to Stow-on-Side. Each step fueled by the thoughts blazing in her mind. Why wouldn’t he listen? He acted as if she hadn’t thought it through, as if she didn’t know what she was doing, what risks she was taking. He didn’t even know she’d already spoken to Milo, Kabu and Nessa about keeping an eye on Samuel.

Her jaw clenched. How can he say that he has feelings for me when he won’t even listen to me?

Those thoughts, looping around and around in her mind, accompanied Gloria as she trained in Bea’s personal workout room in Stow-on-Side’s Gym. On Bea’s suggestion, she’d begun supplementing her self defence training with boxing. It was another tool that Gloria hoped she’d never have to use. Another tool that Gloria feared she’d forget when it came to it.

Just like she’d forgotten everything beneath the weight of her fear when she’d seen Elliot that night.

Was that why Bede didn’t trust her? She tried to shove away that thought while practising with Bea, ducking beneath the Gym Leader’s swipe as instructed. The training was repetitive, and left Gloria sweating and her lungs burning, but it was better than mulling over her feelings, better than crying over things she couldn’t change.

At least throwing a punch at the lightning fast Bea didn’t leave her feeling helpless.

But Arceus, the hurt in Bede’s eyes when he’d said he knew when he wasn’t needed- Gloria ducked again, Bea’s punch coming close enough to feel in her hair. She punched out, using her frustration, and Bea deflected it cleanly.

The way Bede’s expression had fractured when she’d mentioned Rose flashed in her mind, and Gloria’s cheek exploded with pain beneath Bea’s gloved fist. She hit the mat on her side, vision blurring. Vaguely aware of Bea kneeling in front of her, calling frantically to someone, saying something to her. It sounded like an apology. Like many apologies.

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” Gloria managed to say through the pain in her jaw. “I got distracted.”

A simple exercise, punch and duck, a way for Gloria to train her body to keep moving instead of freezing in danger, and she’d failed even that.

She gave in to Bea’s urging and let the onsite nurse examine her, and was thankful at least that she’d gotten away without a break or concussion. She didn’t doubt that if Bea had been seriously sparring with her, that either would’ve been a possibility.

Bea remained at her side as Gloria soothed the ache with an ice pack, sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall.

“I’m so sorry,” Bea apologised for the umpteenth time. “As your trainer, I should have noticed that you were distracted. It’s my duty to tell whether or not you’re capable of training.”

“It’s okay. Your punch managed to break me out of my thoughts, so that’s a positive at least,” Gloria said.

“What had you so distracted?” Bea asked. “You’re usually very grounded when we train.”

Gloria sighed. “I had an argument with Bede.”

“Do you need me to have a word with him?” Bea asked, cracking her knuckles.

“I don’t think that’d work on him,” Gloria said with a dry laugh. She didn’t know if Bea was aware that Bede could hold his own in a fight, but against someone with formal training and a black belt, Bede wouldn’t stand a chance. “He just… wouldn’t listen to me, and then I said something that I regretted instantly, but…”

Bea nodded in understanding. “Just like in a fight, if you strike out in anger, you’re going to regret it.”

“It wasn’t so much anger, but frustration.”

“I find that they are more closely related than you’d think.”

“You’re probably right,” Gloria said.

She chatted with Bea for a while longer, even as the ice pack began to melt and was exchanged for another, before Gloria decided to head home. In the Sky Taxi to Postwick, she pressed her cheek against the cool glass of the window. Exhaustion finally began setting in. Down the street from her house, two teenage girls remained. A strange feeling formed in her stomach when she saw Nicole and Megan. Her two former-bullies-turned-fans were still on self-inflicted paparazzi removal duty. The sight of them distracted her enough that it was only after she’d left the Taxi that she turned towards her house and saw Bede standing outside.

For a split second, Gloria’s feet were rooted to the ground. A flash of frustration, regret, defiance, and then resignation was all it took to get her moving again. She walked up to Bede where he waited at the end of the stepping stones leading up to her front door. His eyes cased her face, landing on the red welt forming on her cheek.

“What happened?” he asked. His voice was surprisingly soft. Full of concern. There wasn’t a trace of the anger that had snapped at her hours before. “Are you okay?”

Bede stepped forward, his hand lifting from his side as if he were reaching for her cheek, before he quickly folded his arms.

“You’re hurt,” he said.

“That obvious, huh?” Gloria said dryly. Something cold clamped around her heart. The double meaning of her words registered like a slap across Bede’s face, his eyes widening.

“Gloria, look, I wanted to-”

“Stop.” Gloria cut him off. “If we’re going to talk, then let's not do it here.” She glanced down the street, then towards her house. She lowered her voice and said, “I haven’t told mum about Samuel. She doesn’t know the one behind the letters is taking part in the Gym Challenge. She’s already worrying about enough as it is.”

Gloria walked towards the Slumbering Weald, passing through the gate without checking to see if Bede was following. Soon enough she heard his footsteps on the ground behind her as the fog of the Weald enveloped them. She held back a shiver as the temperature dropped. Gloria kept her head held high as she powered past Pokemon that dashed for safety between the trees. She had a thought to keep going to the depths of the Slumbering Weald, if only for the possibility of losing Bede along the way so she didn’t have to deal with confrontation, but something in her decided against it, and she stopped in a clearing not far from the entrance instead.

Gloria folded her arms, partly to ward off the chill and partly to steady herself for what was to come, and turned to face Bede.

“I feel like we’ve done this before,” Gloria said. “You, coming all this way, and me, deciding to hear you out because of it.”

She was being callous. She knew that. But being around Bede, seeing the vulnerability on his face, the fear that lay deep in her heart slithered forth. This longing, these feelings that took hold, she was terrified they were going to break free. That her heart was going to reveal itself.

Bede sighed heavily. “It’s not the first time I’ve snapped at you, you’re right. I shouldn’t have done it.” His gaze dropped from her face. “I’m sorry, Gloria.”

Something in Gloria’s heart squeezed. “I thought… I thought that you would’ve listened to me. You didn’t even let me explain properly.”

“I was… worried,” Bede admitted. “I thought that this business with Elliot was behind us. And when you mentioned Rose, compared what he did to me with Elliot and this kid, I…” He shifted on his feet, keeping his gaze from her. “It still wasn’t right for me to lash out.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Gloria said. “It came out wrong. I wasn’t trying to compare you two, I just… when you had your endorsement taken away and were kicked out of the Challenge, I saw how much it hurt you.”

Bede met her eyes.

“I don’t want to be the one to do that to someone else,” Gloria said quietly. “That’s… what I was trying to say.”

Her explanation hung in the cool air between them. The silence was filled with the chirps and cries of nearby Pokemon, faint Wooloo and Dubwool calling from distant farms. Gloria took a breath, Bede’s gaze pinning her to the spot.

“A-Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve asked Milo, Kabu and Nessa to keep an eye on him, and to let me know when he challenges their Gyms. If anything does happen, I’ll take the information we have to the League,” she said. “I promise.”

Bede’s expression softened. “And I’d called you naive, when you’d already done all of this behind my back. You’ve thought this through.” The slightest smile came across his face, one that sent Gloria’s heart skittering. He almost looked… impressed.

“Well, I-I didn’t want to be a bother, y’know?” she said.

“That’s never stopped you before.”

She pressed her lips together. “Things are… different now.” Unbidden heat pooled across her cheeks the instant she said that, and the air shifted between them. Bede’s eyes flicked quickly away from her.

Bede cleared his throat. “I didn’t want things to be like this.” His voice was quiet. Heavy. “To make you… wary of being around me.”

Gloria’s heart stopped. Her stomach plummeted.

“I know how you feel about love,” he said. “It was selfish of me to push my feelings onto you, knowing that. You don’t need to come up with a way to spare my feelings.”

The floor pitched away beneath Gloria’s feet.

“If you’d rather forget that I said anything, then I understand,” Bede said. “Since I know you don’t share my feelings-”

“Don’t- Don’t put words in my mouth!” Gloria huffed. She blinked through the burning heat on her cheeks, the way her heart thundered in her throat. “I never said that I don’t-” her voice cracked “-that I don’t share your feelings.”

Bede froze. “You-”

Arceus, Gloria could hardly breathe. “I asked you to give me time not because I was trying to find a way to reject you, but so I could… figure out how to do this. How to stop myself from being so afraid…” She couldn’t bear to look at Bede, instead she took to staring out into the trees. Even feeling his gaze on her was almost too much. “I can’t return your feelings right now, but- but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel the same.”

Movement from Bede in Gloria’s peripheral vision made her jolt, and she snapped her attention towards him with a start. He’d dropped into a crouch. With his elbows resting on his knees, Bede pressed his forehead into his arms and exhaled heavily.

“I thought… I thought you were going to reject me,” came from Bede, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What- why?” Gloria asked.

He peered up at her, bashful heat ablaze beneath his eyes. “You’re the Champion,” he said, “and I’m… me. Everyone knows what I’ve done.”

“You wanted me to see all of you,” she said, using his words from the day before. “And I do. The good and the bad. They’re all a part of you.”

“Of course you’d use my own words against me,” Bede grumbled.

“Wh-What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” he said, getting to his feet and tugging the collar of his magenta coat higher. It did nothing to hide the blush on his cheeks. “Although I suppose if I’d had said ‘I love you,’ yesterday, you wouldn’t have said it just now.” He saw the look on her face and frowned. “What?”

“You- You just said-” She couldn’t breathe again. She hid her face in her hands, unable to face Bede.

Bede coughed. “So what? You already know how I feel! Why are you getting all embarrassed now?!”

“It’s different!” she lowered her fingers enough to glare at him. “I’ve never… heard you say that before.”

“Yes, you have.”

Gloria dropped her hands from her face. “What? When?”

“When you helped me practise Kalosian,” Bede pointed out. “One of the translations was ‘I love you,’ remember?”

Gloria scoffed. “That’s completely different!”

“They’re the same words.” Bede folded his arms. “And besides, I-” He stopped.

“What?”

He quickly looked away. “Nothing.”

Gloria twisted her lips into a pout. “It’s definitely not nothing.”

He met her eyes for a moment, weighing his defiance against her stubborn nature, before sighing. “Fine,” he huffed. The swirl of heat across his cheeks burned brighter. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but… when I said that back then, it… carried the same meaning as it does now.”

Gloria’s mouth dropped open. “You mean… back then, you were…?”

Bede didn’t reply, but the look on his face said enough.

“Does that mean you’ve said that to me twice now…?” Gloria said, mostly to herself, mostly to try and come to grips with what was happening. It made her dizzy.

“There… was a third, actually,” Bede said, snapping Gloria out of her thoughts.

She blinked at him.

“But that, I think I’ll keep to myself,” he said. “After all, we’re not actually dating, are we?”

Gloria pouted. She couldn’t refute that. “Now you’re just being cruel. What do you mean there was a third?”

“I’m the one being cruel?” he asked, taking a slow step towards her, “when you’re the one keeping me at arms length?” There was a teasing lilt to his tone, but the heat in his gaze made Gloria shiver.

“I-I still can’t…”

Bede stopped. “I know. I won’t push it.” He unzipped his coat, Gloria blinking at him in stunned silence, before he closed the distance between them to wrap it around her shoulders. “Right now, hearing you say you feel the same is enough for me,” he whispered by her ear.

Gloria scrambled a few steps away from him with a squawk. “I-I didn’t say that!”

“Not those exact words,” Bede conceded, “but the meaning remains the same. Or are you going to deny it now?”

She pouted, feeding her arms through the sleeves of Bede’s coat. “Well, no, but…” She had no rebuttal.

“Feeling warmer yet?” Bede teased.

Gloria grumbled, but nodded to him. “I didn’t exactly dress for the temperature in the Slumbering Weald when I left this morning.”

“You’ve been busy, then?”

Gloria gave a brief explanation of her investigation so far, digging out the letter with the crimson ‘R’ on the front when it came up. She held it out to him, and Bede’s expression darkened.

“See why I thought it was from Rose?” she said. “I couldn’t think of anyone else who wants revenge against me that has a name starting with with ‘R.’”

“This isn’t the initial from someone’s name,” Bede said. “It’s Team Rocket’s logo.”

The answer snapped into place. “Team Rocket?!” Gloria gaped. “You mean- like those people from the Wild Area? But I thought they were ex-Team Rocket members.”

Bede held up the letter. “Well, it looks like someone is trying to get Team Rocket up and running again. Here in Galar, too.”

Gloria wrapped her arms around herself. “Arceus, this is bad. The traps they’d set for Pokemon were bad enough…” She thought back to the Vulpix she’d rescued, the teeth of the steel trap crushing the poor Pokemon’s tail. “This… is so much worse than if it’d been from Rose.”

“Based on the behaviour of the ones we came across in the Wild Area, I doubt they’re as organised as they were in Kanto,” Bede said.

Gloria nodded slowly. “I’ll have to get the League involved, see if we can station more staff across the Wild Area to keep a look out for any signs of Team Rocket.”

“Good idea.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t recognise the logo,” Gloria sighed. “A big red ‘R,’ how did I miss it?”

“It’s been a while since we encountered the ex-Team Rocket members in the Wild Area,” Bede said, “so I doubt they would’ve been at the forefront of your mind today.”

“That’s true. But ugh, seriously, Team Rocket on top of everything else? That’s the last thing we need right now.” She shook her head. “Come on, let's head back. It’s not getting any warmer out here.”

Gloria led the way out of the Slumbering Weald, grateful for Bede’s jacket to ward off the chill.

“You never did tell me how you got hurt,” Bede said, gesturing to her cheek.

“Oh, that.” She touched her sore cheek gingerly. “Bea punched me.”

“And how on earth did you even end up in a situation where that could happen?”

“Bea’s training me,” Gloria explained. “We’ve been doing self defence training for a while, and she thought maybe supplementing it with boxing would help, and well, today she was training me and I got distracted.”

“It looks sore.” Bede’s fingers graced her cheek, making Gloria suck in a sharp breath. The touch was there and gone in an instant, but left sparks on her skin and a smouldering heat in her belly.

“I-It’s not too bad right now, actually,” Gloria said quickly, trying to focus on anything else but the way his fingers had felt across her cheek. “I put ice on it for a while, which helped.”

They made it through the gate at the entrance to the Weald, and Gloria dragged it closed behind them. She looked to where Megan and Nicole were in the distance.

“They’re still there,” she noted.

“Your mum said they’d stopped two sets of paparazzi from setting up today,” Bede said.

Gloria sighed. “I know they’re being helpful, but…” She turned from them and headed up the path to her house.

“Welcome home,” Gloria’s mother said, giving her daughter a smile that was a little too knowing, and Gloria immediately shucked off Bede’s jacket, thrusting it towards him.

“I-I’m going to have a shower,” Gloria stammered. She made for her room, before looking over her shoulder and saying, “I-I’ll see you later!”

She had too much to think about, too much to process, to be around him any longer.

That night, Gloria woke up to hands around her throat. She screamed. Thrashed. Fought for her life until her bedroom door was flung open, the light clicked on, and her mother rushed to her side. There were no hands around her throat. No Elliot. Only her mother’s comfort as she cried and wailed beneath the onslaught of memories that felt all too real.

“I thought- I thought he was here,” Gloria choked out. She kept touching her throat, fingers trembling at the feeling of hands biting into her skin. As if she could somehow brush the physical memory away.

“I know,” her mother said. “It felt real, didn’t it?”

Gloria buried her head into her mother’s shoulder. “It felt so real.” She took a few shuddering breaths. “I don’t want to go back to sleep.”

“Why don’t you come and sleep in my bed?” her mother asked. “You used to do that whenever you had nightmares, remember? You’d squeeze in between me and Dad.”

“And then I’d roll so much in my sleep that I’d keep you awake,” Gloria said with a faint laugh. “You always ended up going to sleep in my room.”

“You don’t have to sleep, but I thought maybe having someone with you would help,” her mother said. “If you’d like.”

Gloria nodded, and the two headed to her mother’s room. She paused in the doorway, looking to the side of the bed that had remained empty for years.

“Are you alright?” her mother asked.

Gloria forced herself to move and got into the bed next to her mother, before whispering, “I miss him.”

“I miss him too,” came her mother’s reply.

Gloria squeezed her eyes shut, knowing that these weren’t the same sheets her father had slept on, the pillow wouldn’t carry his scent, but it was still the bed he’d slept in for years, and a part of her wished she could feel his presence. Any part of him.

She curled up on her side, longing for a time where she had to squeeze between her parents in this bed. Where the deep breathing of her father would lull her to sleep. Gentle fingers ran through Gloria’s hair, bringing tears to her eyes.

“You used to fall asleep in an instant when I played with your hair when you were little,” Gloria’s mother said. “It was the cutest thing.”

“Hey, mum…?” Gloria began.

“Yes?”

“Do you think… Dad would be upset if I moved out?”

It was a nonsensical question. Her father was dead, and the dead hold no opinions. But still, a piece of her wanted to know.

“I think,” her mother said after a moment, “that he’d want what’s best for you. And if you wanted to move out, then he’d support you.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” her mother said.

And with that, Gloria let the gentle touch of her mother’s fingers through her hair pull her into a deep sleep.

#bede #gloria #bederia #dressedinpinkshipping #btyu #my writing

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alias-sam · 11 months ago

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Pierced by a Golden Soul

Chapter 39. (Don't Fear) the Reaper Part 1

Platonic Jojo's x Reader

Summary: Fate is a bizarre concept with countless more bizarre implications. In life sometimes such extraordinary events happen that the only reasoning left must be fate. The tragedies that constantly befall the Joestar bloodline for example may be the unluckiest series of cards drawn in human history, or perhaps the work of a greater power. There is no way to tell for sure. Had Dio Brando or Jonathan Joestar moved slightly on a divergent path the world itself would be left very different. The fate or luck of the noble Joestar bloodline has led to destruction of evil likes of the Pillar Men and DIO. This story is of a similar caliber to that of the other Joestars (as I am sure you are familiar with them). This is a story of lost souls, compassion, hope, and above all fate.

Word Count: 2,967

(Crosspost from Wattpad, full fic is already posted there.)

"Umi! We're here!" Vita called as he led you inside his home.

"Sommar?" A woman wearing a hijab stepped out into the entryway to intercept a hug from Vita. She was young, but her face was unjustly aged by stress and exhaustion. The smile that crossed her face upon seeing her son was genuine and warm.

"Sommar....?" You murmured to yourself in quiet confusion.

You were caught off guard at first when you came upon the large three-story house. Noticing your surprise as you walked up the driveway, Vita explained his father owned a rather successful oyster and fishing business. Before that moment you never really stopped to wander about what Vita's home life was like.

Apparently, he was loaded.

Now you were standing in the entryway of the fanciest home you had ever seen as Vita hugged his mother. When the two eventually separated, Vita's mother turned your way.

"You must be Sommar's friend." Her voice was gentile, and fairly quiet.

"Yes ma'am. Y/n Jones." You nodded and politely shook the woman's hand.

"Wonderful to meet you." She pat her son on the shoulder. "Dinner isn't quite ready yet. You two go ahead and do what you need to do. I'll let you know when it's done." Vita ushered you through the large house to a staircase.

"So.... Sommar?" You asked as you followed Vita to the second floor. It had occurred to you that Vita exclusively used his last name at school.

"Right." He sighed, ducking his head for a moment. "Guess I never told you my first name."

"Why don't you use it?"

"I just don't like it I guess." Vita shrugged. "It's the name my birth father gave me." He suddenly stopped on the steps in front of you and turned around. "I'd prefer if you kept calling me Vita."

"Sure, no problem." You smiled. Vita nodded appreciatively before bringing you down a long hallway to his bedroom. He opened the door and you followed from behind. "Oh... wow." The walls were plastered with a unique assortment of movie posters and anatomical sketches of various insects. Your attention was drawn to one poster in particular. "Tsukumojuku Kato?" You mumbled, reading the jumble of letters at the bottom of the movie poster. There was a picture of a boy, looking whimsically off into the distance while holding a magnifying glass. The stereotypical image of a Sherlock Holmes-esque detective came to mind just looking at the character.

"He's the main character in a book series, 'The Locked Room Mysteries'." Vita commented, coming to stand next to you. "Not many people like the movies, but they're my absolute favorite."

"What's the series about?"

"You wouldn't believe me." Vita giggled. You looked at him unimpressed. Vita sighed. "A lot of people don't like the story because it's completely insane. I enjoyed reading it because of the insanity. Sometimes something can be critically bad but ironically good." You still didn't look impressed, in fact you had only grown more skeptical. "I'll tell you this:" Vita relented. "One minor turning point in the mystery involves an invisible polar bear. I won't say anything else because I don't want to spoil anything."

"What about these?" You asked, shifting your gaze to your friend's bookshelf. It held a collection of numbered books that were lined up so that the design on the spines formed the image of a boy wearing a pink suit and a weird hat.

"Pink Dark Boy. It's my favorite manga series."

"I can see that." You laughed looking at the bookshelf filled with only the manga series and it's merchandise. Before you knew it you were curiously flipping through a random volume. "You told me about these before." You stopped when you found yourself unable to read the words. "Are these in Japanese?"

"Yep. There isn't an official English translation of it, but I learned the language."

"Impressive." You flipped through a few more pages, admiring the artwork. "These are some great drawings. A little gory..." You mentioned as you came across a rather detailed image of a disemboweled spider. "But intriguing."

"Rohan Kishibe is the best!" Vita assured you excitedly. You could almost see little stars appear in his eyes as he gushed about the artist. "If you'd like, I could translate the first few volumes so you can read them."

"I'd appreciate that." You said, closing the book and putting it back in its rightful place. "Maybe you could teach me a thing or two in Japanese." You turned to your friend, only to find Vita staring off into space at the wall. "V?"

"Right!" Vita's head suddenly snapped to the other side of the room where a few shelves with glass cases were situated. He removed the tops from two of the glass boxes and retched a hand in both. Soon, Vita returned to your side with a beetle gently cradled in each hand. "These are Harvey and Rodger!" Vita held up the creatures so that you could get a good look at them. "Harvey here is a Rosenbergi beetle I bought while my family was visiting Indonesia." You took a slight step back as the gold-colored beetle tried crawling out of Vita's outstretched hand. "Rodger is a Dorcus Palawanicus my mom bought me when she was visiting the Philippines."

"Lovely..." You smiled wearily at your friend. As you watched the creepy crawlies roam around on Vita's hands your memory flashed back to a comment Tim had made.

This wasn't necessarily a red flag, just a quirk. You hoped so at least.

"There's also Jacques, Enzo, and Johana." Vita pointed back at other glass cases scattered around the room. There were so many beetles, all from different parts of the world. You kept a fair distance as Vita returned his pets to their glass enclosures. As he was tending to that, you noticed a TV and game console tucked away on the other side of the room.

"I didn't know you like video games." You said, curiously picking up a game cartridge. "37 Cars on Mars?"

"I don't think I could explain that one even if I tried."

.............

After you initial exploration of Vita's room and subsequent introduction to the beetles he called his friends, you and Vita got to work on your project. It was a long arduous process, but with each other's company it wasn't so bad. Every once in awhile if Vita noticed you losing focus, he'd make a comment or joke to keep you engaged. When Vita looked like he was dosing off you would ask a question about his beetles. Despite his quirks and obvious social ineptitude, he was a very passionate about his interests, as well as a hard worker. Two hours later you and Vita finally decided to take a break. Due to your combined efforts, the project had progressed faster than expected. At this point, you were practically finished. You leaned back, stretching out your back. Vita wobbled over to his bed and collapsed onto it face first.

"Tired?" You asked sarcastically. Vita rolled over to face you.

"Yes." He groaned. "But I guess it's not so bad." Vita smiled. "You've been fun to work with."

"You too. I wouldn't mind doing this again." You replied, standing to once again look over Vita's extensive Pink Dark Boy collection. As you were flipping through what looked like a special New Years addition you heard a loud car's engine. Vita's eyes widened before he suddenly bolted up and ran to the window.

"You have got to be kidding me." He groaned. Confused, you followed your friend. You looked outside where a red car rolling up the driveway. The monster of a vehicle shut off and a man stepped out.

"Who is that?" You asked. He was an older man, his hair and beard were already a mixed gray and white. You got a good look at his scowling face as he stomped towards the house's front door.

"My stepdad." Vita sighed. "He wasn't supposed to be back for another few hours." Your friend glared down at his front yard before heading towards the door.

"He doesn't look very happy." You observed before turning to Vita. "You don't seem all that happy either." There was an obvious shift in Vita's demeanor that you just couldn't ignore. His expression had darkened, similar to how he looked when you met up with him earlier.

"Dinner's ready." Vita's mother called from downstairs just as he was reaching for the doorknob.

"Would be rude to keep them waiting." Vita grimaced before turning to your concerned face. "This should be interesting." With that, Vita led you out into the hallway. The light in Vita's eyes had exhausted. It was worrying how dull his demeanor became. He didn't say a word as he led you through his house. As the two of you were passing by an adjacent hallway you saw a silhouette out of the corner of your eye. Intrigued and confused you stopped in your tracks and took two steps back to peer down the darkened corridor. A pair of bright yellow eyes stared back. You jumped back immediately from shock. Vita stopped and looked at your panicked expression.

"W-who?" You stuttered, pointing down the pitch-black hallway at the approaching figure.

"What are you talking about?" Vita went to your side and followed where you were pointing. "Oh, hi Mannesh." Vita waved as a younger boy stepped into the light where you could see him. "Jojo, this is my brother Mannesh." Vita happily introduced you.

The younger boy looked like a slightly shorter version of Vita. Both boys shared a sepia, reddish-brown complexion. Their hair was the same dark brown, but Vita's hair was more wavy in comparison to his brother's loose curls. You noticed the most striking difference between the two was their eye color. Mannesh's eyes were a distinct shining yellow, while Vita's were a deep red-orange.

"Nice to meet you..." You held out an awkward hand to the boy who'd just jump-scared you. It was a bit pitiful that you were shaking at the sight of a nine-year-old, but in your defense it seemed the brothers shared an innate ability to be intimidating without trying. Mannesh glanced at your hand before sidestepping you and heading downstairs.

"Don't take it personally." Vita chimed upon noticing your expression. "He's... not all that social."

"It's fine." You assured.

"Mannesh has his quirks. One of those misunderstood kid geniuses, ya'know? He'll be nicer if he doesn't see you as a stranger."

........

You and Vita came downstair just in time to watch Vita's stepfather stomp through the living room. He glared at Vita's mother before shoving the door to an adjacent room open and slamming it closed behind him. Vita's mother smiled nervously upon realizing you Vita and Mannesh saw the interaction.

You did your best to ignore the awkward atmosphere created by Vita's stepfather. Though, it was hard not to notice the tired and depressed expressions around the quiet dinner table. The koshari was delicious, but the mood spoiled it. There was enough tension you could cut it with a knife.

It wasn't until twenty minutes later when Vita's stepfather finally reappeared. He padded into the kitchen and upon coming back to the dining room with an open beer in hand. Vita's stepfather stopped in the doorway to look at you strangely. You stared back upon noticing him.

"Hi..." You greeted cautiously. He was intimidating, the stereotypical image of an old sailor, white hair, beard, and a face squinted into a permanent scowl. He seemed a fair bit older than Vita's mother.

"Who the hell are you?"

"A friend?" You answered, highly confused.

"Sommar who the hell is this?"

"A friend." Vita responded curtly, not looking up from his plate. The man growled and turned back to you.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Visiting your son?" You answered, still confused by the sudden interrogation.

"Get the hell out of my house."

"Um-" You glanced around the table before looking back at the man. "Why?"

"Why?" The man mocked your voice. "You did not get my permission to be here." You once again looked around the table for some kind of cue or help from Vita or his mother, but their eyes were both downcast.

"Are you being serious?" You were oddly tempted to laugh given the situation.

"Deathly." The man seethed. Vita tensed and looked like he was about to protest, but you decided not to escalate the situation any further. You had no idea of what was going on, and didn't want to cause any trouble.

"Alright then." You stood up from the table, looking over to Vita's mother. "Ma'am thank you for the meal. It was lovely."

With that, you simply left the house. It was around time for you to be heading home, and you were done with your work anyway. You looked down the empty street as shadows crept across the ground from the shifting storm clouds above.

"Y/n wait!" You turned about to find Vita running after you. The front door of the house flew open.

"Sommar!" Vita's stepfather yelled. "You better get back in here!"

"I'll be back in a minute!" Vita snapped, surprising both you and the old man. Your friend waited until his father closed the door to speak again. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, you could also sense a hint of embarrassment. "I'm really sorry about all of that. I should have warned you."

"It's fine." You tried reassuring the boy. After facing a gaggle of guys who you knew literally wanted to kill you, this was nothing. "Some people just have bad days. I get that."

"Everyday is a bad day with him." Vita looked down guiltily. "He...doesn't like having people over, he's paranoid about things getting stolen."

"You don't need to worry about it. I for one can handle a grumpy middle aged man-" You stopped mid-sentence as you noticed Vita wobbling, and his face turning a shade lighter. "Are you okay? You don't look so good..."

"Y-yeah-" Vita responded airily. "But maybe I should sit down." The guy looked like he was about to fall over, so you weren't going to argue. You helped him down to sit on the concrete driveway. "Sorry, I just got dizzy for a second."

"No need to apologize." You insisted while making yourself comfortable sitting next to him.

"Believe it or not this is what a good day looks like for me." Vita laughed humorlessly.

"What?"

"Severe anemia, weak immune system, and a constant vitamin deficiency no matter how many supplements I take. That's just listing a few." Vita coughed dryly. You had seen Vita's eyes light up, darken, flare with anger, but right now, he looked empty compared to the creepily cheery character you knew. "I'm a whole cocktail of broken parts." Vita did his best to hide it, but you noticed the shine of tears welling up in his eyes. "But it's fine. I still lead as normal a life as I know how. I'm a bad fever away from a coffin anyway, might as well live as best I can."

"Vita..." You trailed off, caught completely off guard from the sudden confession. He seemed really out of it. His head was bobbing slowly in every direction as if it was too heavy for him to keep up. You noticed his skin still looked sickly, and lighter than normal. Ultimately, you decided to let him talk. Vita obviously had some things he needed to say. The least you could do was listen.

"It's kinda sad really." Vita continued, letting a single tear roll down his face. "I spent my whole childhood in and out of hospitals to the point my only friend growing up was my own mother." His shoulders shook as he held back a sob. "She left behind her life and family in Cairo to marry an asshole and move to America-" Vita's voice cracked and he took a moment to steady himself. "All for me...I guess that's one reason I never quite got along with classmates. I wasn't healthy enough to attend in person until middle school. I went in with no knowledge of social cues whatsoever." Vita shook his head and wiped away a few stray tears. "I don't really care what other people think, I never have. But that doesn't make it less lonely." He paused and looked up at you with reddened eyes. "Maybe that's why I like you so much Y/n. You're weird, like me."

"We both have terrible dads, that's for sure." You muttered offhandedly. "I guess we don't particularly take a shine to normal social activities either." You didn't understand how that made you 'weird' like him, but you decided to roll with it.

"Indeed." Vita breathed, expression finally lightening. "I'm really glad that fate or whatever brought us together for this project. I know you were really intimidated by me that first time we talked, but you were nice enough to never spread rumors or spit in my face." Vita looked away sadly. "Or call me a freak."

"Those are some low standards buddy." You noted sarcastically. That made him laugh. You couldn't help but smile at the fact you cheered him up a little, the moment was spoiled for you however when you realized a light rain was sprinkling across your back.

"All jokes aside..." Vita sighed. "The first time we really talked... I got this weird feeling. This strange pulling sensation." His hand slowly went to his shoulder. "I don't know how to explain it."

"I think it's about time you head inside." You said, barely paying attention to what the boy was saying now that the rain was getting heavier. "Sitting out in the rain can't be good for your condition."

"It's not." Vita groaned. "Oh!" He said reaching behind himself. "I think this is yours." He had your umbrella. You had left in such a rush earlier you forgot to grab it.

"Thanks." You said, taking the item back gratefully. "See you tomorrow?"

"Not if I see you first." Vita responded with a smile and awkward head tilt.

There was the usual creepiness you were missing.

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elvisabutler · 2 years ago

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would you mind giving a rundown of each of little dove’s partner’s? like which one has which title and how they treated her etc. i get them so jumbled in my head 😂

oh anon, i don't mind at all and you're good since technically speaking unless you're in my word docs you don't actually have the list set out in front of you complete with who i say they are. i'm going to list them out in order, from her first all the way down to who she was with pre-austin.

you have papi, so titled because he's hispanic and he wanted it that way ( and originally it was just because when i wrote this there was that rumor re: vanessa calling austin papi and it was funny to me to have her have her first dom be papi ). he's married. and they were together right when around when she was eighteen. she didn't have a big part in the movie they were in together but it got his attention enough and she got his attention enough that he wanted to fool around on his wife. he is the one who would basically make her beg for attention/not what her to touch him in public, just generally not what a good dom should be but it was her first time and he was so much than her and she fancied herself in love. relationship lasts two months but messes her up something fierce. he would call her angel and her collar had angel wings on it. she does not have that collar any more. she still calls him while she's with austin because she may not be with him any more but you know that whole saying about first loves being the hardest to get over? yeah, that's very true for her. generally will make her giggle and smile over the phone until something happens. she has had a panic attack post phone call because of him showing off her old collar to her in a nice little velvet case. had a tendency to- and still does- call her needy. excessively needy. hilarious thing is, austin never realizes how bad he was until after dove breaks up with him and he runs into papi. then realizes oh no papi was the super bad one, père was the good one oh no.

armie, which you can debate on whether or not i actually meant armie hammer or not, if you look at my notes from when me and eurus had hashed it out, it was him, but meh. he wasn't necessarily bad, more had a problem respecting limits and generally sucked at the aftercare. dove has two scars from the lack of aftercare/cream needed to make the injuries not scar. austin fucking hates him and dove- she doesn't really hate or love or anything him, it's more just he was a rebound between papi and sir.

sir, the one who is closest to her in age. that boy wasn't bad at being a dom, she still prefered papi when he would have given her attention to sir's attempts but he was young and honestly got off more on just knowing that hey- he had the pretty girl waiting for him willing to do whatever he asked of her. his whole thing was making sure little dove was obedient. he slept around on her and- if we go by the joke in my notes, austin is not the first time her and ms. gerber have shared an ex. do with that knowledge what you will. probably at least a 6 month to a year relationship. met on the set of a tv show.

and finally père, very french, older, ends up being the reason she moves to cannes with austin after everything. but beyond that, he treated her like a goddess. the way to explain it is that if it wasn't for père there would be no happy ending for little dove and austin. because she'd still be messed up from the previous three but père taught her that it was okay to ask for things and that your dom/your daddy isn't a mind reader, you got to tell him. it was him training her out of a lot of things everyone else had trained her into. generally speaking, he was great and honestly if his wife had agreed to it she probably would have just became a throuple with them. he still keeps in touch with her and calls her on occasion- which ends up being a stark contrast to how papi asks dove to call him every two weeks or so. he gives her the dove ring and tells her to keep it when they break up after his wife finds out. it's what austin ends up noticing and what he bases her little dove nickname on. he also called called her belle and she has him in her phone as bête. he also makes sure when they break up that she knows he is her friend before anything, that just because she's not his sub- his baby girl, etc any more doesn't mean she's not his friend and that he wouldn't protect her from anyone who would hurt her. she broke up with him just a little bit before austin. met on a film i think it was.

i hope this clears it up/helps a little? my notes on the matter are a little bit of a mess and i lost a fair chunk when eurus deleted her tumblr but this is basically what i was able to salvage and for a fun bonus bit, papi was originally supposed to be a good dom until there was a whole thought of him mocking austin about enjoying little dove and then he just went down from there. oops.

#i almost put a gif in here for who my mind has always thought of when i think pere but i stopped myself.#austin butler x priscilla reader #little dove series #dove series #you read your lines so cleverly and never missed a cue #ally answers asks #( it's in my blog who i think of as far as pere goes because someone asked lol. )

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traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors · 2 years ago

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No TW i can think of

About: Dissociation/Derealisation/Depersonalisation - Poor Time perception

Looking for shared experiences & validation

I don't know if that is something common, but I noticed I have a very bad time perception.

I have cptsd and struggle with things from the dissociation spectrum and noticed my a few things about my perception of time;

My life timeline is completely jumbled. I can't differentiate when something happened in my life. I used to tell a story and realised I couldn't tell how old I was back then.

I could've been 10, but I also could've been 16 y/o.

I tell a story that it was like 4 years ago, but it's been 9 years or more as my parents correct me. (These are just examples, but it happened more often than i am comfortable with)

It's just so strange to me. I feel like i can't get a grip on the years passed or the age I was. Which really messes with me when I try to tell something in chronological order. (I also have many memory gaps in between, which might explain my difficulties in bringing things in a correct order)

Another thing is in my day to day life;

Don't ask me anything from the week/month before. Not even anything related to yesterday, for example, a task I worked on. I won't remember any of it. (I tend to depersonalise when working)

Which sometimes is hard because my coworkers seam to manage those sorts of memories well.

Also, of course, I have a bad sense of how many hours passed when in a dissociative state, which is normal, i guess.

Does that make sense? Is this common? Or is it just me? Seeing other people manage makes me sometimes completely question myself.

Hi anon,

Please know you're not alone. This is actually very common with PTSD and/or CPTSD.

One reason you may be experiencing this is because our traumas are so monumental to us that they often overshadow the rest of our timeline, both before and after. Another reason could be that, to us, we are living in the past while living in the present. So we may not actually be fully grounded and making new memories when we're constantly preoccupied with old ones. There could definitely be other reasons as well.

What you're experiencing is real and valid. Please know that just because your coworkers seem to manage those sorts of memories well doesn't necessarily mean they do or that your experiences aren't worth acknowledging. It's important not to compare your experiences to others because it doesn't tend to help us heal, and instead it minimizes what we've been through. You've been through a lot and that explains what you're going through right now.

If anyone else would like to share their experiences, please feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks

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parttimepuff · 2 years ago

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*teleports beep behind king dedede*

Be personal, kid

Suddenly, with very little warning, Beep found herself somewhere entirely different. She bristled up from the change of environment before realizing she wasn't alone. The king let out a sigh. "Ok. Ok, ah'm pretty much fine now." He addressed to someone, certainly not to her. If he was here... this was her chance! She could ask about her family and make life better for them-

"Are you certain? You don't need to push yourself." Another voice replied, stopping her train of thought instantly. Beep bristled up all over again. It couldn't be... "Ah ain't. Just, needed a moment." Dedede assured... why would he be here? 'Blue..?' She reached out across the hivemind, trying to make sure. Another familiar voice answered her instead. 'Hm? That's not a nickname for me, is it?' Magolor asked, confused.

'No, it’s another Matter I met, before you but I, lost him-' Beep started to explain before her mind fell silent again. Anything her friend tried to respond with didn't register. He was looking at her. Frozen. Staring. Though the eye contact was brief, she was fully bristled, her lone eye wide. That’s not a Dark Matter. That’s Blue, but that’s not Blue.

Realizing this was far from safe, she started backing away slowly, slipping into the first shadow she touched. Hopping from shadow to shadow, she made it out of one of the higher windows in the room. 'C-can you tell Rev I’m coming back? I’m okay?' Beep pleaded with Magolor. She wasn't exactly sure how she was feeling, she just. Needed to get home. Even Dedede wasn't on her mind. The Halcandran couldn't help but be alarmed. 'Coming back? When did you…' Magolor trailed off. He could hear the panic in her voice. He could feel the twist of jumbled emotions. Now wasn't the time to ask. 'Nevermind. I'll let him know. And, get back safe.' He added. Beep nodded, not really caring whether he'd know she had as she sped back to the Starcutter. In the throne room, the knight stared at the same spot, transfixed. Had he, really just seen her? Could it be that his mind was failing him or..? "…? Old man? Metaknight? You in there?" Dedede prodded, waving a hand in front of his face. Blinking, Metaknight looked back to the king. "…ah. Apologies. I… I may need a moment myself."

#ask #ic #anon #King Dedede #Metaknight #Beep #Magolor #Wiz

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femmeecrivain · 3 years ago

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flying

(I've been in a massive writing rut since I lost my cat. Trying to get back into it with some short ficlets. Prompts welcome.)

“It’s just not something I’ll ever be good at, I guess,” said Granger one afternoon as they sat at their table in the library, Potions notes spread out before them, with an exceedingly poor attempt at a nonchalant shrug. “There’s got to be one, right?”

Draco, calling upon a deep well of gentlemanly reserve and self-control, ignored this blatant implication that she was brilliant at everything else and quelled the urge to point out that personal grooming, namely hair care, was another subject on which she might not be an absolute expert. It seemed unnecessarily petty, even for him, given how generous she’d been with her time and her forgiveness these past few months. It was entirely down to her that he was managing to make it through this eighth year at Hogwarts in relative peace and not being shunned completely or hexed on a daily basis. Or both.

“How do you know you’ll never be good?” he asked. “I’ve never seen you anywhere near a broom. Have you even tried to learn?”

She nodded and a pink flush crept across her cheeks. He did not find this fascinating in the slightest. “Harry tried to teach me once,” she said. “It… did not work.”

Draco scoffed. “Of course it didn’t. Potter can’t teach you.”

She bristled, visibly. Her hair increased in volume (how??? he thought) and began to spark. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say against Harry—”

“Listen to me, Granger,” he interrupted, before she could get on her high horse and gallop away. “The reason Potter can’t teach you is because he never learned. He’s a natural. He just picked up the bloody broom and flew.” Draco’s jaw clenched and his teeth began to grind. “It’s really fucking irritating, actually,” he spat. “Some of his technique is absolute shite, but of course there’s no telling him that, not the ‘youngest Seeker in a century’—”

“Malfoy.”

“—who only cares about catching the Snitch, no thought at all to doing it properly with the correct form—”

“Malfoy!” Draco shook himself from his Potter-induced rage spiral to find Granger watching him with wry amusement in her eyes. “I feel like we may have got off track a bit.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “As I was saying. If you want to learn to fly you need to find yourself a teacher who was taught. Potter can’t explain how he does it because he doesn’t know himself.”

She tapped her quill against her lips as she considered this. “That… makes a lot of sense, actually. But who could I ask? Do you know anyone who might be willing to teach me?”

“I would.” The words were out of his mouth before he’d properly thought them through, but once the offer was made he realised how sincere it was. He could teach her, he knew how. And what was more, he wanted to. He wanted to give her something, for once.

Granger blinked at him in blank astonishment, her mouth open in a distended ‘O’. She made no reply. Humiliation washed over Draco in a prickly, bright-pink rush of heat that he could feel in his cheeks and down the back of his neck, and abruptly he wished to be anywhere else in the world but here.

“Forget it,” he snarled. Blindly, he snatched up his books and parchments in a haphazard jumble and began to storm away.

“Wait!” she called after him, but he ignored her. He didn’t want to hear her excuses or platitudes. “Malfoy, wait!” Draco’s progress came to an abrupt and jarring halt as his legs seized up beneath him. She’d hit him with a leg-locker jinx.

“Granger, what the fuck?”

“Sorry!” she cried, appearing at his elbow to catch his books before his arrested momentum sent them flying from his grip. “Sorry, I just couldn’t think of another way to stop you.”

“You should have let me leave!”

“But you didn’t give me a chance to answer you!” She dumped the books back into his arms then glared at him, hands clenched in tiny fists and planted on her hips. Her hair was sparking again. “You can’t blame me for being surprised that you’d offer me help. Realistically, now.”

He scowled. “I suppose not.”

She appeared mollified by this reply and her expression softened into something curiously shy. The flush returned to her cheeks. “But if your offer is genuine then my answer is yes. I’d like that. Thank you.”

“Oh.” Draco swallowed hard. His heart began to drum a resounding, insistent beat against his ribcage. “All right. Um. When do you want to start?”

“Today? Is that too soon?”

“No, that’s, erm. Fine.” Merlin, he thought, what had he got himself into? “Meet me on the Quidditch pitch after Arithmancy?”

“Okay.” A small smile played around her lips. Draco worried that his heart might actually escape his chest and careen away. “I’ll be there.”

With a wave of her wand she released his legs. He stumbled slightly before regaining his balance and her smile bloomed full and bright. “Smooth,” she observed. “I trust you’ll be more graceful on a broom. Now if your tantrum is quite over, come back to the table. We still have studying to do.”

As he watched her settle herself back in her chair and pick up her quill again, Draco grappled with a peculiar sensation, as though his world had been knocked right off-kilter. Something had shifted, he felt, some terribly significant yet intangible thing that he could sense but not identify. He wondered if Granger felt it too.

He supposed he’d soon find out.

#dramione #dramione fic #dramione fanfic #draco x hermione #dramione fanfiction #short fic #ficlet #femme-écrivain

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gloryofluv · 4 years ago

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Reaction to You hiding under a table... (All the boys)

Hiding under a table. Reactions and laughs abound! All the brothers and the dateables.

Lucifer-

He walked into the room and saw you ducking under the table with the cloth hiding most of you. He lifts the cloth to reveal that you’re not shivering with fear at the sight of him. Obviously, you’re not just hiding like Mammon has done. Nope, you had a book and were under a… table???

Cue questionable scowl. WTF is this human doing now?

It only is more confusing for him when you glance up to see him, wave, and smile before returning to your book.

Does he even want to know? Actually, he does. However, should he spend the time to ask?

He does. He’s a sucker for you. Your response is simple. You wanted to read in peace, and (almost) no one would see you here.

He inwardly groans and tells you to go hide in his room next time.

No, he wouldn’t mind seeing you reading in there when he gets home. In fact, go ahead, make that your primary space to hide. Coming home to you would be exactly what he dreamt about.

Bonus points if you laugh and agree. Melted firstborn, anyone?

“If you insist on hiding from my brothers for some peace, you may do so in my room. I won’t be perturbed as long as you don’t tell them.”

Mammon-

Walks into the dining room to try and find something to sell for some quick coin. Scowls at the sight of your shoes sticking out from under the table.

Most definitely will crouch and stick his face in your space. This boi is perplexed at you huddled under the table with your phone.

Huh? Is this a human thing?

You smile and ask if he wants to come to sit with you.

Mammon will snort and toss an insult or bravado of some sort but still be really confused at your new place to sit.

Hiding from Asmo because he wants to dye your hair? Well, that makes a little more sense. However, he still doesn’t get it. You have a bedroom.

You pat the ground again, and he grumbles but agrees. Sitting with him, you start playing the funny Deviltube videos of demons getting scared by human items. You and he are laughing at the idiots together.

He soon wraps his arm around you as you’re cozy in the dim light. Forgetting about his task, he asks if you want to come back to his room. Ya know, to watch videos there???

If you agree, he’ll drag you off. It wasn’t the first time he was hiding under a table, but it would be your last.

“Now, human, that happens again, and ya just come to my room. I’m supposed to be watchin’ ya.”

Levi-

He was walking up to the bathroom. Usually, his nose was stuck to his D.D.D, but he caught sight of you. You were napping under a table?! What?

He thought about leaving you there. Belphie usually falls asleep in the weirdest places. However, why??? Why were you under a table? In the hallway???

Bending down, he touches your shoulder, and you wake up. He asks what you’re doing sleeping under a table like a normie?

You tell him that you were waiting for the bathroom to take a bath, but Mammon was taking forever. You got caught up reading a manga and fell asleep under the table.

Cue heart eyes and blushes! He stammers about going to use the bathroom. When he comes out, you were still under there reading.

Immediately he was a jumbling mess. Asks you if you would read it in his room instead of under a table.

If you agree, expect blushy boi to timidly ask what it's about. If you explain the plot to him, he will definitely show you similar types from his own collection!

He will likely keep you captive all night because the thought of you under a table with a manga stole his otaku heart out of his chest.

“If you d-don’t mind spending time with a disgusting otaku. You could come read it with me. I have more if you like. P-please?”

Satan-

Inquisitive and actually perceptive about his surroundings, he wanders into the library to immediately see you under the table in there. You pulled a chair over to block the view of anyone who would be just glancing in the room.

He ignores you, for the time being, grabbing the book he had an interest in reviewing. Instead of leaving, he picks that chair to sit in.

Minutes go by as he enjoys the subtle sound of your breathing and the beautiful announcement of the pages being turned when he thumbs them.

Is he curious why you’re hiding under a table? Absolutely. Will he ask? Well, he was debating on how long he’d let you believe you’re actually hidden.

Instead of asking flat out, he turns and slams the book on the tabletop, causing you to jump and bump your head. He’ll ask you why you’ve been hiding under a table at that point.

Lucifer.

Enough said. He offers a better solution to your issue. He invites you to his room, where you can seclude yourself from his fury until the firstborn is busy with other tasks.

If you agree, he’ll smirk and feel smug as hell. Lucifer will ask and ask where the human went, and he won’t say a word.

“Honestly, there are far better ways to disappear than under a table. Come to my room, and I’ll shield you from the chaos.”

Asmo-

Glorious clothes. Fabulous makeup! Asmo just returned from his shopping trip and was on a high. He walks into the sitting room to see you lying under the table.

What?

Flat out asks you what you’re doing under the table. Oh, you’re glancing at all the cute outfits in the latest Devildom fashion??? He would climb on the floor and join you if it wasn’t dirty.

Comments on the dirt.

You say that you’re waiting for Mammon, and he never looks lower than the sofa. You wanted to scare him for him stealing your hairbrush. True. Very true. A great place to jump out and scare him.

However, just not working for Asmo. Nope. Insists that you end your ploy to scare Mammon and help him go through his new things.

He promises to help you get back at Mammon with a better, less dirty plan.

If you agree, he will be skipping all the way up to his room. He’ll have you all to himself, and you both can do a fashion montage!!!

“Honey, he’s an idiot, but this is no way to treat your poor skin. Let’s go through all my new clothes and plan something far more deserving!”

Beel-

Baby boy just got done with his workout and was going to walk into the kitchen to make a snack. Walks by the dining room to see your knees under the table.

What?

He stops and scowls. This is a new behavior. Beel goes into the room and ducks down to see you huddled under the table… eating Simeon’s cookies?!

You give him a simper and offer the bag saying he can have one. Beel accepts and then asks why you’re under the table.

Hiding from the others because you didn’t want them to know Simeon made them just for you?

He's a little hurt that Simeon wouldn’t make him any, but happy that you shared. You ask him if he wants a few more because you only had a handful left.

He sits down and eats the offering with a smile. After you both have finished the cookies, he asks if you want to come with him to make a snack.

If you agree, this teddy bear is glowing. He’ll make everything you want, and you just need to sit on the counter and tell him about your day.

“If you want, since you shared, I could make your favorite snack. I love sharing my food with you too.”

Belphie-

Tired. Grumbly. Tired. He walks into the sitting room to see you stationed under the side table.

Um? What? He scowls and smacks his pillow at you reading a book before slumping on the sofa.

His version of asking you what’s wrong??? Well, it worked.

You tell him that Lucifer was looking for you to do a chore and figured you could plead ignorance if he didn’t find you sitting under a table.

Mammon never gets away with anything like that, and Belphie tells you so.

You curl smaller and laugh. See, he can’t find something this tiny, right?

Thump. Thump. Thump. Yes, his heart is just beating for how cute you could be. Tells you how ridiculously stupid that is instead.

You unbunch your legs and sigh. Well, he sucks at times… So, instead of apologizing, he offers to take you up to the attic and hide you in the blankets if Lucifer comes knocking.

If you agree, he walks with you all the way up, and when you snuggle on the bed together, he apologizes for being grumpy.

Turns into a melty soft boy when you run your hands through his hair and say you didn’t even notice with a smile.

“Well, if you want a plan that actually will work. You can come with me to the attic. I’ll hide you in the blankets, and we can nap.”

Solomon-

Walks into the library at RAD with one goal in mind. There was a book on energy manipulation he wanted to read. However, the goal is postponed.

Sees you under the table, and now, he’s completely intrigued. You had your book in hand. You even looked to be in perfect health. Hmm… odd.

Approaches you, and you glance up. No words. Not even a plea for help. Still odd.

He finally asks you why you’ve chosen this space to sit instead of a useful chair. You reply that there was a demon giving you dirty looks. So you ducked under a table, and the demon walked away in confusion.

He finds it fascinating that something this odd would work. Now is intrigued if that’s all demons or just you doing it.

Climbs under the table with you and asks what you’re reading. Makes no effort to remove you from under the table nor ask you to sit in the chair.

Both of you read under the table and watch as demons glance at you with pure befuddlement. Cue laughter and enjoyment. He would have never thought he’d walk into a rare social experiment with demons that day.

“You know, that poses an interesting question. Do demons insist on the same social norms as humans? Care to perform this experiment with me?”

Simeon-

Walks into the House of Lamentation to have tea with Lucifer. However, he is quite amused at the sight of seeing you trying to tuck as far under the side table near the hallway.

He walks over and ducks down, lifting the cloth, asking, what are you doing?

You rush out in a whisper that Levi is angry with you because you beat him at a game. You don’t want him to send Lotan on you!

He nods and hears footsteps on the staircase, so he stands in front of you. Levi comes storming down the staircase and asks if he’s seen you. Simeon spills a few lines from TSL. Levi is blushing and waves him off before stomping by.

He checks the hallway before bending down and whispering that you can come with him back to Purgatory Hall. He’ll explain what happened to Lucifer so he can calm Levi down.

If you agree, he doesn’t waste time to skirt you out the door and away from danger. What a freaking angel??? Well, maybe it’s a little selfish. He gets to keep you safe, after all.

“If you would like, you can come with me and have some tea to calm your nerves. You look shaken, and I do hate to see you out of sorts.”

Luke-

Skips into the sitting room at Purgatory Hall and immediately scowls. What are you doing under the table???

Walks over, and you press a finger over your mouth. You thought you saw a bat. A flappy bat in the sitting room! They see with sound.

What??? Is it a blood-sucking bat??? Does it eat humans? Are things like that really in the Devildom?

Climbs under the table with you and looks around with a hint of anxiety on his face. It doesn’t help that his clothing tickled your arm, and you jumped and screamed.

Insists that you both run into the kitchen to tell Simeon! He’ll know what to do!

If you agree, both of you are bolting into the kitchen to describe an exaggerated version of the event. Your fear was enough to scare this wee angel. You weren’t scared of demons, but were of a bat??? This had to be a very evil bat!

“If we run as fast as we can, it won’t find us right away! Simeon will be able to help!”

Barbatos-

He was well aware of lunacy thanks to his very creative prince. There were things he just expected to weave sideways from the norm. However, you under a table in the hallway of the Demon Lord’s Castle wasn’t one he foresaw.

Should he bother to ask? Yes, he best do so. Bends and questions your oddity.

You explain that one of the Little D’s was yelling at you for walking on their clean floors. It called you a stupid, ignorant human. You wiped your face, and he noted the blotchy color of your cheeks. Well, someone was going to have an unfortunate accident later…

He asks if you would like to come with him to the kitchen. You could have some tea while he prepares dinner.

If you agree (let’s face it, no one tells Barbatos no), he will assist you in climbing from under the table. He will pull out a handkerchief and wipe the tears from your cheek and escort you to the kitchen.

You may not have seen it, but it did bother him immensely that you were cowering under a table. He would fix that and have you smiling in no time.

“I’m apologetic that someone was rude to you. Let me make it up to you with some tea and cookies. We will cure this bad experience with a better one.”

Diavolo-

He was enjoying the party thus far but was in need of a moment, just a brief moment alone. Walking into the dark sitting room, he turns on the lights to see you under a table. Your formal attire was pooling around you.

He walks over and ducks down to see the shock on your face and D.D.D in your hand. Asking what you’re doing in here, he smiles.

You answer with taking a break from the party. Though it’s beautiful and jovial, you were tired of dancing with so many demons.

He agrees and asks if you don’t mind the company. Actually, while he’s asking, he found a way to duck his torso under the table with you. (Big boi could actually break furniture and you if he wasn’t careful)

You show him the cute animal videos off Deviltube, and both of you begin to laugh. One video leads to six leads to twelve. It didn’t matter. It was so nice to just spend time with you.

He asks you if you want to have another table date again. He actually would sit under any piece of furniture as long as you said yes.

“I’m so glad to see you! I was actually exhausted from all the dancing myself. Care if I join you in watching whatever was amusing you?”

#obey me headcanons #obey me fandom #obey me humor #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelezebub #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo

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