#I still need to beat the darker lord

[brockitty-goober]

VOTE DUCK VOTE DUCK!!! DUCK HAD BETTER WIN THIS!!!! YALL HAD BETTER NOT BE SIMPING FOR A MIITOPIA CHARACTER!!!!! HE DOESNT HAVE A NOSE!! COME ON GUYS!! MAY I REMIND YOU OF HIS SHREDDER?? AAAAAAAAAAA

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hi bubbs, 💖 anon here. I never made a request before, but I'd like to make one now. Can you write a fic in which reader gets injured and Azriel takes care of her and tends to her wounds? Reader has been through a lot in the past so she doesn't know how to react to someone taking care of her. Both of them are also secretly pining for one another. Pls write it if you have the time, no pressure. Much love to you Queen, bye bye💖.

Hey, gorgeous! Enjoy!💕✨

Keep you safe

Azriel hated when Rhys sent you out on missions alone or with anyone who wasn’t him. When it came to you he trusted no one. It was stupid. Over the top stupid but he just couldn’t. Couldn’t make himself settle when he wasn’t the one guarding your back. And then maybe it was the fact that something deep within his chest burnt for you. It was easy with you. From day one you had managed to see right through him. Right through everything he thought he was masking like a true mastermind.

“If you had come to nag me about putting her on a search team with other boys, you don’t have to. By now I know what you will drill me for”, Rhys spoke up before Azriel had a chance to fully enter his study. “I just don’t understand why you do it”, the spymaster slowly closed the door before turning to his brother, “You know how much it unsettles me”. Rhys put down his pen, looking straight up at Azriel, “Man up then and tell her how you feel”, and that was enough to make Azriel's shoulders go stiff. “Stop with that nonsense. Aren’t you tired of trying to play a matchmaker?”, but Azriel’s words only made Rhys smirk. “You can make her yours, admit how you’re feeling, and have an advantage over my decisions. Or you can sulk for the rest of your life because, brother, you’re not getting any younger”, Rhys’s eyes pierced through Azriel. He slowly nodded his head before turning around, “You don’t know shit”, he reached for the door handle once more, “Oh, and if something happens to her because of this choice of yours”, his eyes now much darker, landed on his high lord, “Your pretty face will take a beating. My condolences to Feyre”, and with that, he was gone.

It was an anxious couple of days of sitting around. The reports Azriel had to fill out were adding up but he couldn’t get his mind to settle. And then he heard it. The sea of voices. Among them a voice he would recognize anywhere. Azriel is quick to jump to his feet, rushing down the stairs. And there you stand. Your fighting leather was still on as you gave your last orders to the soldiers that had come with you.

“Y/n”, the shadow singer called out with a tight nod. Your eyes. Tired eyes meet his. A light smile pulls at the corner of your mouth, “Azriel”. The soldiers give clipped nods to both of you before hurrying away. “Didn’t even say goodbye”, Azriel crosses his arms over his chest. “You know i hate goodbyes”, you snicker, turning slightly only to hiss beneath your breath. “Is everything okay?”, the question falls out of his mouth way too quickly but your well-being has been the center of attention ever since you left. “Yeah, perfect. Need to give Rhys a rundown”, and that’s when his eyes notice your clammy-looking skin, the slight tremble.

Azriel reaches out, grabbing your arm, and the dampness of it strikes him. He lets go in a hurry only to be met with a bloody palm. “Yn…”, it’s barely a whisper as his vision zeros onto the crimson staining his skin. “It is nothing”, you brush it off so carelessly that it makes Azriel’s blood boil. “Nothing? You’re bleeding all over the foyer”, he whispers shouts, stepping right in front of you, blocking your way away from him. “I’ll clean it up?”, you try, not too sure as to what would calm this sudden fury burning in him. His wild eyes look you over. And then there is darkness. The coldness of his shadows surrounded everything.

“Sit”, he orders before the mist of his darkness even has a chance to fizzle out. “Azriel you can’t just take me like that”, you hiss out both in pain and frustration. To his apartment outside the city, he had winnowed you. Just like that. Just because. “But it seems like I did”, he sassed over his shoulder before pointing to the sofa, “sit down, woman, before I sit you down”. You gape at him for a moment. Under any other circumstance you would be putting him in his place but now… now you just feel weaker and weaker by the minute.

“You are being childish”, you point out, welcoming the feeling of ease once your body eases against the sofa. “You are being careless”, he throws your own words at him. Ones that you had thrown at him on multiple occasions after his missions. “Shirt off”, Azriel asks, motioning to the material. “Azriel, this is nothing”, you try to reason once again. You don’t want him to see you like this. You can lick your wounds on your own. Have done that your whole life.

“Say that one more time”, it’s a dare you know that. Know him. Just as you know the more you push, the more likely it is that he will be the one doing the undressing. “Fine”, you huff, “I’ll show you so you will get out of my hair”, it’s mean and rude at best, because he had been nothing but nice. You just can’t wrap your head around someone caring. But even you halt at the sight of the angry-looking gash surrounded by bruises. You haven’t looked at it since the attack. You felt it yes. But it didn’t feel that bad. Not to mention the puss slowly forming at the edges. Infected. A chill runs down your back.

“Fuck”, Azriel’s voice fills in the silence. “It wasn’t…”, you start but your voice dies. “Sit, or better lay down”, and there it is, the collected composure, “I’ll fetch clean clothes and Madja’s slaves”, he’s quick to step into his neatly arranged storage room. Searching through the medical supplies. “She’s not in Velaris now but I will make sure she comes here first thing when she returns”, he’s rambling now. Meaning it’s bad. He thinks it’s bad too.

You’re only in your breast wrap when Azriel returns. He would admire you. What man wouldn’t but not now. Not when your chest is coming up and down in broken breathes. Your face looking ashy. “This will hurt. Hold onto my shoulders”, he kneels between your legs, dampening the material. “I’m good”, you say through clenched teeth, letting your head fall over the back of the sofa. Azriel watches you, “I warned you”, he mutters before pressing the cloth to your wound.

Your hands shoot up as quickly as the pain making you cry out. Reaching for the man tending your wounded side. “Breathe through it. Nice and slow”, his lips brush against the side of your head. You didn’t even realize when he had leaned over you. “It hurts”, you cry out, feeling the tears rolling down your cheeks. “Look at me, I’ve got you”, his forehead is pressed to yours. Eyes watching you. He gives you a quick nod and you nod alongside him, “Make it quick”. Another tight nod and the salve-soaked material is once again against your burning flesh.

You cry out, head falling onto Azriel’s shoulder. The agony of it all catches up quickly to you. “Just a bit more”, he pleads, trying to clean away all the crusted-over blood and puss. “You’re doing great. So brave. So strong”, you want to bite back that you’re not a child that needs praise but his words soothe something inside you.

“Lay down, you will feel dizzy”, Azriel reaches out to steady your head back. “Any more not serious cuts on your body?” You lift your arm, one he had grasped. It’s a much shallow wound the bleeding had stopped by now. Yet Azriel tends to it as carefully. You watch him do it. The way he has that almost permanent frown on his face. As if every bruise and cut had personally offered him. “I’ll wrap you up”, he mutters after a while, gathering all the blood-soaked clothes. “I can do it myself, you did enough”, The truth is you don’t want to move. Or more like don’t know if you can. Azriel just looks down at you before sighing, “I understand now why you get pissed when I play big boy around you”, you can’t help but smile a little. Tending to him was always a headache but you always got him to give in. “Got to keep you on your toes now”, you whisper, not trusting your voice.

“Just let me look after you”, he mutters and you take a moment to soak in his worried eyes. “Why?”, deep down you know the answer but there’s an urge now. Urge to hear him say it. “Because…”, Azriel breathes out, stalling, “Because I’ve been worried sick since you left, because this will help my mind settle”. He shakes his head slightly, “Because I care… about you”. You take a shaky breath in, wanting to reach out for him. “Az…”, you mutter. “Don’t say anything now. Heal first and let me help you do so faster”, he cups your face, before going back to fetch the bandages.

[saintescuderia]

pancakes (pt. 7)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: here we are! and CHARLES WON MONACO! (also sorry for the lance slander RPM influences me far too much)

P7 - 2.5L water bottle

"Oh for fuck's sake."

The lyrics rapping over the Metro Boomin beat were cut off as you turned off your engine. You huffed spotting the asshole in green getting out of the Aston Martin in front of you.

Mother fucking Lance Stroll.

Stroll got on your every nerve from the fact that he, as a paid driver, was the epitome of what you hated about F1 and the cash is king nature of the sport. It didn't help your opinion of him that his treatment of the Hospitality workers was very telling of his personality (i.e a spoiled little bitch) - but he also treated the rest of Aston Martin like that.

His engineers he bossed around. His PR team he bossed around. His fucking team principle he bossed around. You had never ever seen a driver be able to literally pick and choose what Media they wanted to do until Lance Stroll. Not even Räikkönen had gotten away with things that way Stroll did.

The worst part of it all, though, was that Lance's attitude of I can do whatever I want meant that he really thought he could get any girl he wanted.

Namely - you.

Your Supra wasn't exactly inconspicuous and Lance had (unfortunately) been in F1 long enough to make the connection that the flash JDM car parked in the lot tended to belong to you. And even though your windows were tinted a few shades darker than legal limit, Lance was getting out of the car right next to you. There was no chance he didn't know that it was you.

If anything, he likely made his driver park next to your Supra on purpose.

"Lord give me strength." You muttered seeing him come up to your window.

But then Lance Stroll had the fucking audacity to tap on your window.

You immediately reached for the handle and opened the door which caused him to stumble for the lack of space as you did so. "Oh, woah! Hey!" The Canadian accent pissed you off for no other reason than it reminded you of Drake. Someone else you fucking despised.

"Don't touch my car." You said, voice flat.

"Oh, er. My bad. Nice looking ride."

"Thanks." You said curtly, internally cringing at how he said 'ride' like that. You went around and grabbed the vast array of things you always hauled with you. Said items for today consisted of your gym bag, your workbag, your lunch bag and your comically large 2.5L water bottle. You always were carrying a lot.

"Need help?"

"No."

"I insist."

"Don't."

"Why you always gotta play hard to get?"

You said nothing, forcefully biting your tongue. You were out of practice with Lance Stroll's shit since Domenicali had finally relented and cut the amount of shifts you would be rostered on Aston Martin. Which had been a shame since the crew were quite nice and you really taking the piss with Nando.

Still, Lance Stroll was insufferable - and you were evidently out of practice dealing with his spoiled delusions. You were just glad his father wasn't around. God help you when it came to the European races.

"I have to get to work." You said and locked your car. There was a call from behind where some Aston Martin people were waiting Lance but he ignored them. Instead, falling into step with you.

"I don't see you around Aston Martin anymore." He said, trying to make conversation.

You kept ignoring him, hoping he'd get the hint. Pulling out your phone, you started to compose a to text to Oscar. He would coming here with Lily and had said something about finally introducing the two of you. Your eyes checked the time at the top of your phone screen. Based on what time it was, Oscar should've been here by now - and could save you from Lance Stroll.

to: piazzas 👼

where the fuck are u ?? lance stroll is trying to talk to me send help

"I don't know." Was all you said, typing away with one hand as the other held a bag, hoodie, bottle and lanyard. You lifted the arm to tap in through the gate and then continued to ignore Lance - who continued to walk beside you and speak.

"That wouldn't be because you're working for McLaren." Lance said. This made you fingers pause as the blatant comment caught you off-guard. You sucked your teeth and took a deep breath. You adjusted your grip on your bags and continued to type another message.

to: piazzas 👼

srsly im gonna fucking rage at this point

"I don't know what you're on about." You said and felt relief seeing the Read time-stamp arrive below your sent message and three dots finally pop up as Oscar typed a response.

Lance made that irritating sound - his laugh. "You know my dad will pay you double what they're paying."

from: piazzas 👼

I'm at the McLaren motorhome. In a meeting with some PR. Can you come?

You huffed and pocketed your phone. Your shift was at Ferrari today and so there was no logical reason for you to walk into McLaren. Then again, it was early and you were yet to get dressed. It should be okay. People rarely noticed you since you looked like some random trainer with the amount of stuff you always carried.

Except, right now, Lance Stroll was not getting the hint and pissing off. Meaning you couldn't exactly freely walk into McLaren no questions asked.

Especially after that comment about you working for McLaren.

"What do you say?" The annoying idiot stood there, still waiting on you apparently.

"What?" You asked, shifting the items in your hand and pausing in your steps. You were in front of Ferrari right now and considered going in to dump your stuff before sneaking off to McLaren. That would at least get rid of Lance.

"Just say the number. How much. Dad wants you onboard and so do I. And all that legal stuff we can sort out." Lance said with a nonchalant shrug that pissed you off more than it should've. "My trainer isn't really working for me anyway."

You stared at him. Was he being serious right now? Your mouth fell open at the audacity and you glanced at his manager behind him who was looking up at the sky, clearly uncomfortable.

But, of course, unable to say anything.

"Ah, Stroll! Mademoiselle is with us today!" You turned your head to the French accent of your other favourite Team Principle. Fred Vasseur arrived with one half of the Scuderia drivers beside him. Your eyes widened on the sight of Carlos there, sunglasses pushed up in the head of hair that had its own fan-accounts and was the star of many, many Tiktok thirst edits.

Fuck.

Last night, your uncle had thrown you for a loop. Carlos Sainz had somehow infiltrated your uncle's sphere with a video of him refusing to sign a Barcelona jersey.

This, your uncle took as a good omen and a worth his approval.

"Approval for what?"

"None of these drivers are worth your time. But this one seems good." Your uncle's voice had sounded through the speaker function of your phone as you balanced a ball on your head. Last night you had present for his usual call to his sister and Dia was adamant you cop it.

And cop it you did. His newest idea was not Jude or Vinicius - but apparently Carlos Sainz.

"What? Because Carlos didn't sign a Messi jersey?"

"His name is Carlos?" Your uncle had asked and you had, in turn, just groaned. You half expected him to make some ridiculous comment about the similar names being a good omen or something.

"Yeah. Carlos Sainz."

"Sainz? Hm." There was a short pause from your uncle. "Is his father a rally driver?"

"Yes." You had frowned, not expecting that.

"Ah! I know him. Good family."

"What?" You said, still stuck on how your uncle knew the Sainz family. "How do you know him?"

"Why didn't you tell me about him before?"

"Because... I never noticed Carlos." The football you had been kicking slowed as you found yourself frowning at the phone on the kitchen table. "It's... I don't know. It's just Carlos."

"I want you to talk to him. To 'Just Carlos' as you say." Your uncle was not relenting. "Go have dinner together. He has a good face."

Your uncle's attempts to get you married to what he deemed was a 'respectable man' and not, in his opinion, 'some limpy Frenchman' (you would often remind him Charles was from Monaco nor was it was like that between you two) or 'some tatted up Australian wanna be Italian' (you would also remind that Daniel barely identified as Italian). However, all of your uncle Carlo's options had always been footballers which, you and Dia knew, was just a ploy to move you from car circuits to football pitches.

But last night, you found, Carlos Sainz apparently had the Ancelotti tick of approval and he was adamant you and Carlos apparently go out for dinner.

You took your uncle's comments to be why you suddenly found yourself feeling a little awkward seeing the driver in the flesh. The on you admittedly never paid much attention to before.

"Maybe next race you can have her." The Spanish driver - who apparently had your uncle's approval - said. Carlos took a sip from the small coffee cup in hand. He was on his piccolo, you noted.

Carlos came up to you and you felt yourself caught out and taken aback by him openly reaching for the strap of your gym bag and your bottle, prying them for your hands. The surprise had you letting go and once Carlos had a grip on them, he nodded at everyone in green. "See you guys on track." And put a hand on your back to guide you into the home. His clear dismissal towards Lance made you smile and it made your face warm up even more.

Your smile dropped.

What the fuck?

"Um. Thank you." You said, once you were out of earshot.

"He's an idiot." Carlos said, with a tired sigh. This made you laugh.

"You're telling me."

It was then that you realised your laugh was nervous. You cleared your throat. You were going to rip into your uncle. And then yourself for being so stupid. Because this was stupid. You barely ever noticed Carlos. What? You find out he really hates Barcelona and has really, really great hair and suddenly you're tongue-tied around him?

"Ha. Yeah. I get that. And I can hold that." You went to reach for the strap of your bag on his shoulder. Carlos moved away.

"Don't insult me." He said, tsking you with a grin on his face. "Let's go. Fred spoke all morning about your pizzas."

"Yes! I did." Fred said, reappearing with his assistant who was handing him a paper he was half reading as he spoke. "Guenther didn't let me have any last time."

You couldn't but smile, remembering Guenther's loud curses echoing throughout all of Haas when he found you plating some aside for Fred. You gave Fred a salute. "I'll get right to it. Let me just dump my things in the backroom."

"I'll take them there." Carlos said, evidently not relenting. You sighed and let him carry them for you as you both made your way to the backroom.

Unfortunately, this meant walking through the entire motorhome in which case many Ferrari staff did a double take seeing you walk with Carlos. Whilst it wasn't uncommon to see you around, nor for you to have any interactions with drivers - you literally made their food and coffee - but Carlos was holding all your many, many belongings and walking to the small backroom that were reserved for Hospitality.

"Thank you." You said, appreciating the chivalry. What you didn't appreciate, however, was how your body was reacting to Carlos.

You didn't get why you were suddenly so... hyperaware around Carlos. Seeing driver content wasn't something new to you. Why did it affect you like this? Maybe addressing it would just help.

And so your mouth just came out with it.

"My uncle likes you."

"What?"

You quickly elaborated. "He saw a video of you refusing to sign a Barca jersey."

Your uncle had even sent you said video of Carlos, the driver windswept in his Ferrari, driving off when a fan passed him a pen and the jersey. You had to admit he did look good in the video and the way he drove off like that had made your eyebrows shoot up, impressed.

"Your uncle... Don Ancelotti?"

"Yeah." You said with a laugh at the name. The Don. You were proud of your uncle and what he achieved, earning him such a nickname. Dia always said her brother's intimidating Don cigar smoking aura had been passed down to you - and not his own children/your cousins.

You weren't surprised Carlos knew about who your uncle was. It wasn't exactly a secret. And considering the world of Formula 1, that wasn't even the craziest connection for someone working in the Paddock. An Alpine techie was distant cousins with Mbappé, a Haas mechanic was close cousins with LeBron, and Valentino Rossi's babysister's best friend's brother was a PR manager for George Russell.

So, no. No one really paid much attention to you and your uncle. The most it had ever come up was the odd few comments of the Paddock's EPL fans coming to you lamenting Carlo Ancelotti moving from Everton to Real Madrid.

"Woah, that's pretty cool." Carlos said, his eyes widening. "I definitely need to let my dad know."

"Apparently they know each other?" You asked, hoping he might shed more light on the connection your uncle somehow had to Sainz Sr. Your uncle hadn't managed to explain that curious bit.

"Do they? He never said." He said and you blew a raspberry. You really were going to give your uncle a piece of your mind. You shook your head and Carlos laughed, saying something that went to deaf ears as he took his sunglasses off his head - causing some strands to fall across his forehead as he was looking down at you.

Fuck.

He used the other hand to run through said black locks.

Double fuck.

The man seriously could've made it as a hair model.

You looked down from his hair to meet his eyes and felt yourself flush even more knowing he'd caught you staring at his hair. You cleared your throat again - when had it gotten so dry? - and spoke. "You um, you could really make bank doing hair endorsements, you know?"

"Bank?" Carlos asked, not picking up the slang.

"Money." You explained the slang and then thought of the Spanish translation. "El dinero."

"Ah, so was it the Don who taught you Spanish?" Carlos asked, lips turning up to grin.

"Nah I don't really speak Spanish." You shook your head and explained. "I just know that word from some from lyrics and stuff."

"Stuff? From living in Los Angeles?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. You blinked, surprised he knew that tidbit about you. "I remember you telling Max about it back in Torro Rosso."

Carlos' observational skills evidently had you in surprise. First it was him remembering your Egyptian heritage and now this?

"I, uh. Yeah for a year and a bit. I worked in a garage." You explained, feeling more awkward and, well, something else that you refused to acknowledge as nervousness.

You didn't get nervous. You had literally served countless celebrities and prided yourself on not getting starstruck or fucking nervous.

And yet, here was Carlos running a hand through his hair catching you off guard with how hyperaware you were of him.

"Ah." Carlos laughed and you stared at the way a thin gold chain glittered around his wrist. "Well, if you know any hair sponsors you'd recommend, let me know."

"Oh, yeah. Done." You said, going back to the previous conversation. "But I'm expecting a cut, then." You said, opening up a locker and beginning to stuff the bags into it. "Hoy por ti - "

" - mañana por mi." Carlos finished the phrase, amused. "It's different in Spanish, though, you know?"

"What is?"

"English you say scratch my back or something. In Spanish it's more about generosity. You take care of me so I will take care of you next."

"Oh." You said, taking in the mini Spanish lesson. Admittedly all your Spanish came from working with Tyler in the garage on Fairfax Ave and, of course, song lyrics. There had been a few funny conversations with Fernando - but nothing intimate such as I will take care of you.

You didn't really know what to say next. Your face was already flushed and you'd probably be able to cook something on your cheek from how hot it was.

You were going to kill your uncle. Real Madrid could win Champions League without him. And even if they didn't - well, Guenther would be happy to see another team finally have a chance.

"Also," Carlos casually continued, unfazed - or not noticing - your lull, "there's going to be a game tomorrow night. I'm not sure if you were planning to watch it."

Thankfully, his words momentarily did distract you from the inner monologue. Real Madrid wasn't playing this weekend. Atletico Madrid was.

Maybe it was Carlos being from Madrid or following the Spanish league religiously but, either way, it wasn't a game you had intended to watch.

"Oh, I mean I like Griezmann." You said, referring to the famed Atletico player, "but I don't watch La Liga games unless Real Madrid is playing." Besides, if you showed any interest in any other team, The Don would have your head. Your uncle still didn't know you owned a jersey of another team. Even if it was only for Mo Salah.

"No, the Liverpool game." Carlos corrected. "They're playing Manchester United, are they not?"

This was surprising. There had been no indication in the past of Carlos ever caring about any other team besides Real Madrid - let alone being that interested a whole other league. If you ever were going to talk EPL with a driver, it was probably a passing conversation with Lewis. Maybe George if the Wolves were involved. And that was when the drivers themselves initiated the conversation.

Max, and his love for your team's biggest rival Barcelona, was who you used to talk to about football, who you used to stay up and watch games or play Fifa with.

And since that was no more, you sort of lost any passion for it.

So this was very much news to you.

Carlos Sainz. Talking to you about EPL.

More than that - asking you if you were going to watch an EPL game.

"Uh, yeah maybe." You finally spoke. During your drive to work, you had vaguely thought about changing your schedule so as to be able to watch the game. You had played around with the idea of doing a workout after your shift tomorrow so you could stay up after qualifying and watch the match.

The only issue was that this would you mean you wouldn't be able to work out before the race on Sunday - and you were definitely going to be stressed working a whole weekend at Ferrari.

But if you watched it you could stream it on one of the TVs in the driver's gym - that way Oscar could workout with you also.

Suffice to say, you hadn't yet made up your mind.

"Lando and I were going to watch it. He's a fan of Manchester United." Carlos said, looking at you expectantly. "Don't worry, I won't tell the Don."

It was that look which made your eyes widen slightly, the thought suddenly dawning on you: was Carlos asking to watch the game together?

Something erupted in your stomach.

However, your reflex to any driver interaction had immediately kicked in.

"Oh, nice. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to watch it with the schedule. You guys enjoy, though."

Carlos opened his mouth but thankfully someone, a man dressed in the red uniform, appeared in the doorway calling for Carlos. The interruption was very much welcomed as the driver nodded and was resolved to leave you before your body gave you any more confusing signals.

You took a second, a steading second, before you slammed your locked shut and went out to look for Oscar.

“And there’s the young rookie, Oscar Piastri. Looking really good after his amazing win in Jeddah. 9th, outperforming everyone’s expectations!"

“Yes! He’s just arrived with his - is that his trainer?”

“She looks tough enough to be one. Wait is that — “

The commentators immediately realise and change the subject to something else to do with Fernando’s winning streak and Aston Martin’s upgrades. You sigh at the clip that had been playing on the TV in front of you where you could be seen handing him the Antinal Dia had been adamant Oscar have.

Zak had informed Oscar who had informed you about the conversations had between all the TPs about, well, you.

It was startling to say the least. 

"I'm afraid people are starting to catch on." Oscar's PR Manager said with a stern look as she stared at both you and Oscar. Her name was Sophie and despite her young age putting her in the same ball-park as you and Oscar... it still felt like you both were students in trouble, being told off by your teacher.

Oscar had asked you about a Sophie Wright a few months ago. You briefly knew of the girl from her interning days, following other PR members around the McLaren motorhome over the years. She was a little on the shorter side, the chubbier side and, unfortunately, these two appearance traits meant she was excluded from the other PR girls who definitely already had a group chat going.

However, you also knew this meant she would be good at her job. Sophie could blend in the background quietly, unnoticed and do her job well. You also doubted she would easily jump around for a better opportunity and do Oscar dirty. Then there was the fact that when you served her a skinny latte one time, she made sure to read your name badge and thank you with a genuine smile.

And so you had given Oscar the thumbs up.

Never, in a million years, did you think you would be here though. Getting a debrief from her as Sophie tapped on her iPad. You risked a glance at Oscar who looked indifferent and nonplussed.

"Sorry Soph," he said, "but I'm not exactly aware what this means exactly."

There was some noise at the door and in walked Zak Brown himself. He was still talking to someone outside in the hall and said a 'yep, bye!' and then finally turned to address the room he was halfway in. "Ah, here we are. Just the people I need to see." His eyes fell on you and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

"No trouble at all. I know you're friends with Oscar and just wanting to help him out." Zak said, coming to sit down. "Ah, so you've seen the clips." He looked at the TV where Sophie's iPad was still screensharing the clip from yesterday.

Thursday's media days was always the least loved day for everyone - save for the bloodthirsty journalists. Drivers hated all the mundane questions and the paranoia of microphones and cameras everywhere. And you hated media day because it meant extra long barista shifts.

"Yes, Sophie showed me before but I thought Tezza should see it." Oscar explained, using your nickname. Your heart warmed at how considerate that was. You met his eyes and smiled softly at him. Your love for the kid grew daily.

"Good thinking!" Zak said, nodding agreeably to his driver. You fought to keep your face passive as you regarded the McLaren CEO.

Your opinion of Zak Brown was that he got further than he ever dreamt to get from starring on Wheel of Fortune. And whilst you did admire him for not being brought up in the snobbery and pretentiousness of the generational wealth that F1 tends to circulate through... you did note how he sucked up to the those snobs and their pretentious generational wealth.

Namely, how he did anything and everything for to make Lando Norris happy. In your opinion, it was a lil cringe at times.

"Well, the problem is that it's getting harder and harder for me to just make it out to the rest of the Paddock that you and Oscar are just friends spotting one another at the gym." Zak said. "Christian Horner is running rampant, scared you'll turn Oscar into the next Max Verstappen."

You snorted at this. Unfortunately this drew everyone's attention to you and you knew you would need to explain. "Max and Oscar are polar opposites."

Oscar could very easily become a World Champion without you. He was smart, dedicated and very talented. And whilst Max was all those things, he didn't need someone to train him up so much as tame him down after all that Jos did to him. You guys had just as much sessions on anger management as you had sessions on endurance training.

"Either way, it's coming to be viewed as a breach." Zak said. "And if you breach your contract then - "

"I know." You interrupted him. He didn't need to explain that to you.

"There's also the issue that people think you two are dating." Sophie spoke up from the front. She tapped on her iPad a few times and up came up a few screenshots of Twitter threads hypothesising about the two of you. "Your Twitter had a followed increase of 150% since Oscar followed you. Which didn't help."

"And whose fault was that?" You said, looking at Oscar with an unimpressed look. "You're lucky I deleted that shit so quickly."

"Yeah look, my bad. The timing was off." He said, accepting responsibility. You still remember all the notifications of the Twitter shit-storm Oscar set off. You literally had to delete your account because of it.

"Yes, Christian did bring that up." Zak said. "And it's a good thing Oscar's lovely Lauren is here - "

"Lily, sir." Sophie quickly corrected her boss. You wanted to groan. Oscar just looked down to hide his smile. Under the table, you kicked at his legs.

"Lily! Sorry." He gave a sheepish look to Oscar. "Yes, you and Lily this morning was a good idea."

"Unfortunately, Daniel did like a few of these Tweets." Sophie added, bringing up the screenshots of a Tweet about you and Oscar that was liked by none other than @danielricciardo.

You clenched your fist, your nails digging into your palm as you thought of how fucking petty that was. Daniel wasn't a fucking idiot. Aside from the fact that he knew your type - (admittedly, the tall/dark features combination always got you) Oscar was so young.

If anything, you thought of Oscar, genuinely, as a younger brother. As you had Max. Daniel knew that. So he knew exactly what he was doing by liking those kind of fucking Tweets. Tweets you wouldn't put past Red Bull to send out themselves.

Because, if anything, they would be praying it wouldn't be true about you and Oscar. Otherwise Christian Horner wouldn't have any leg to stand on. That was how you got around being connected to Charles, anyway. Family was the exception.

"I know your contract has you tied to only working for Red Bull and Ferrari's drivers but--"

"Red Bull and Charles Leclerc." You corrected in a tight voice, your eyes falling down to the table in front of you. "I was only granted exemption to work with Charles as he was considered family."

This caused him to frown as he pulled out his phone and began typing at it. "I thought you were allowed to work for Red Bull or Ferrari. No new teams."

"Yeah, no." You said, making Oscar chuckle at the Australianism. "No new teams outside of Red Bull and Torro Rosso." You specified.

"Christian didn't say that." Zak said.

"It was kept really quiet." You explained. "Charles was, um, he granted exemption from my Red Bull contract because he - well, he was considered family." You cleared your throat, not able to even look at Oscar. "I was signed for Torro Rosso and Red Bull. Never Ferrari."

"That's not what Toto said at the meeting." Zak said, shaking his head. "He made it seem that you could work for Ferrari."

You said nothing. Toto Wolff had approached you once or twice but your answer had always been the same, no matter what he offered. Eventually, he dropped it. You just didn't realise he dropped it because Toto had sought out the fine print.

"Wait so why aren't you Charles' trainer?" Zak asked, looking up from his phone. "He'd be insane to not have you!"

You froze. How were you supposed to answer that? For once, you had hoped the F1 rumour mill had properly run its course and Zak would know better than to ask that obvious question.

"Eh, Leclerc's loss." Oscar interjected with a casual shrug. "Let's be glad we don't need to worry about that."

The hidden meaning behind his smooth words were clear and you felt your love for the boy increase tenfold at his save.

"What - if I may," Sophie started, trying to be sensitive with her wording and her eyes darted between you and Oscar, "what were the grounds for family?"

You took a moment to think of how you might answer. You really didn't want to but if this might help the boy beside you, you would. "Charles - and I, like, I dunno. We grew up together? Everyone just knew." You pulled at your hoodie sleeve, feeling every bit uncomfortable with the question.

"You didn't date?" Sophie asked. Your face must've shown something very unpleasant because she was quick to amend. "I'm only saying because the grounds for family are always a grey area."

You pressed your lips together and went back to staring at the table. "There was nothing romantic between Charles and I." You said. The room fell silent for a moment as Zak tapped on his screen a few times and then he spoke up.

"You also trained Daniel. He told me in 2021." Zak said and put the phone down and you wanted to roll you eyes. Of course Daniel would say that. "And I don't want to get into all the drama but you were dating him back when you were training Verstappen."

Zak did have a point.

A key point that you had forgotten.

You paused and watched the screen in front of you and the liked by @danielricciardo Tweet. "Christian's always had a soft spot for Daniel so..." You trailed off. "But yeah, you're right. It was fine even though I was contracted to Max under Torro Rosso then Red Bull."

"Hm." Zak said, bringing a hand to his chin as he leaned back, pensive, in his chair. "I can see how romantic grounds could be argued." He said it with a laugh, looking between you and Oscar.

You raised an eyebrow at the comment. You honestly weren't sure if this was just Zak Brown being Zak Brown - i.e saying dumb things to suck up since he was out of his element - or if he actually meant that. Either way, it pissed you off.

Because there was no fucking way you'd let that happen to Oscar.

"No it can't. Contracts aside, I'm not forcing someone I think of as my younger brother into a PR relationship with me." You said.

"It could work, though." Sophie said, taking a professional tone as you turned your glare to her. "This is what I was trying to say before. The Twitter comments about you and Oscar are not necessarily negative. If anything you've helped increased Oscar's public image and Red Bull wouldn't able to say anything about you two on romantic family grounds."

You were seething.

Thankfully, Oscar was more level-headed than you.

"Yeah, look guys. Tezza's pretty but not my type." He finally chimed in, lighthearted. "Besides, I think we should focus more on the car and that way it's a fair advantage to both me and Lando."

You looked back at him and took a deep breath. Oscar smiled at you, chill as always, and you took another breath. You wanted to give the boy a big hug.

"Look, Zak," you said, looking back at the TP, calming down a little more, "I'm sorry. I'm causing you all this shit."

"You got Oscar into the points." Zak waved off. "Don't worry about it. I just want to find a way that works for everyone." You sucked on your teeth. Whilst it was nice to know that Zak Brown was willing to take risks on you also wanted to know how this conversation would've gone if Oscar hadn't finished 9th in Jeddah last weekend.

Such was the way of F1.

Sophie then tapped on her iPad and the TV showed a picture taken by Ky Millman. It was of Oscar hugging you after the win in Jeddah. Some comments were displayed and you found your lips turning up as you read them. They were, as Sophie said, sort of positive.

kymillman

liked by mclaren, saintescuderia and 15'483 others

kymillman SUPPORT FOR SUCCESS! Oscar surprised many with his amazing performance in Jeddah and goes to celebrate with a F1 Hospitality worker and friend @ynusername!

view all 76 comments

halaaaamadrid girl help his shoe game pls

ln44girlieee @mclaren we need content from this duo plssss u have them right there

logansversion as if mclaren is going to post a couple?

f1fanforever they're friends?

ln44girlieee idc the level of sarcasm between them would be SO GOOD

oscarpastries i love THIS! 😫😫😫

justanotherinchident omg charles finna be RIOTING!

team44roscoes wait why would charles be upset ?? i thought @ynusername was with dannyric?

maxiel4eva_16 yeh 😒 jumping on all them aussies

You rolled your eyes at the last comment. Maybe it was a good thing you were off Twitter and barely used Instagram anymore.

"It'll be hard to argue that Oscar is family since you haven't known him as long as you did with Charles," Sophie spoke up, bringing your attention back to her, "but we can maybe try to build it up from a PR point a view."

"That Oscar and I are family and not dating?" You asked. Sophie nodded. You looked at Oscar, wanting his confirmation.

"Yeah, sure thing Vin Diesel." He laughed.

"Hey, hey. Fuck you." The grin on your face was contagious and he broke out laughing also. You liked this new idea and turned back to look at Sophie a lot more positively. You were glad McLaren gave Oscar the girl.

"Okay, so what do we do to show the world I've adopted Oscar?" You asked.

"I think you'll find my dad's already half adopted you." Oscar corrected. "He wants to see your Supra."

"That's perfect!" Sophie said, excited. "Maybe Oscar can post a story of the interaction sometime this weekend? Make sure Lily is there. Maybe you can play the tired third wheel of them!" Sophie looked at you as ranted off her ideas. You nodded, suddenly less excited.

Whilst it was nice to know there was a plan in place to help you and Oscar continue to work together, you didn't like the way Sophie said for you 'play' a role. The one, sole consolation you had going for you these past few years was the lack of needing to play any PR role. Hearing Sophie speak was giving you flashbacks to times long gone.

"Happy with that gang?" Zak said, placing his palms on the table. "We'll work on building the PR and hopefully that will get Red Bull off our back as we also improve the car!" He stood up and left, not joining Sophie and Oscar as they said goodbye to the boss.

"Wait, does this mean I need to actually start using Instagram?" You asked.

"Yes." Sophie said. Then she looked up from her iPad. "Don't you? You were tagged in it?"

"Like, I have an account but I stopped using it. I'm pretty sure I deleted the app." You said, pulling out your phone to see that yes, there was no pink app downloaded. You pressed the download button, knowing what was in store for you.

"Download it. You're already at 2.4k followers." She said, bringing up your profile on the TV screen.

"The fuck? I had like three hundred last time I checked."

"Five." Sophie corrected. "Your growth has increased since you started training the F2 winner who follower Y/N Tessio after the most controversial Formula 1 Tweet that ever was Tweeted." Sophie said, eyeing Oscar with a raised eyebrow.

"I already said sorry about that."

"Do you know how stressful you made my first day? Helen scared me!" Sophie asked, humour on her face. "Though, nothing like jumping in the deep end."

The Instagram app had finishing downloading and you logged onto it - thank you pre-saved passwords - to be met with a fucking plethora of notifications that suddenly had you overwhelmed. As such, you immediately went out of the app and put your phone in your pocket. You could deal with that all later.

"I'm not using Twitter again." You said, thinking back to the Tweets Daniel had liked. "Fuck that."

"Yes, only Tumblr or Reddit over here." Oscar said, pointing to you.

"Tumblr?" Sophie looked at you, surprised.

"Yeah? What of it?" You asked, defensive.

"Nothing. Just surprised. I would ask to follow you but Tumblr is the safe haven of anonymity. I get it." She nodded. "Alright, perfect. I'll draft up a PR plan. In the mean time, do you mind if I review your profile and send you some tips?" Looking at you for the last bit.

"By all means." You said, half wishing you could give her control of it like Oscar and be done with it. You just wanted to be able to work with Oscar without causing him any trouble and not having to worry about this PR bullshit.

"Perfect!" She said, beaming.

Your phone buzzed. It was a text reminder about you needing to go back to check on some dough you'd prepared. Back at Ferrari. You sighed and stood up.

"Alright, sounds good. I gotta get back to work. Take your supplements and electrolytes. The green one." The last bit was aimed at Oscar as you met his eyes and then turned to leave the room and walk, head down, out of the McLaren motorhome.

You took a deep breath as soon as you made it into the open air. With how things were going, it was likely that you would be having another gym session today. You arrived at Ferrari and saw the back of Carlos' head. You felt yourself gulp and turned to hide behind the coffee machine. Maybe you would watch Liverpool play.

The mention of your connection to soccer was also pointed out in the room you had just rushed out of. Sophie made a small sound and rounded on Oscar, shoving something in his face.

"Did you know that half of Real Madrid are following her? Jude Bellingham just commented on the post!"

She stared at Oscar, hoping he might provide an answer. The young driver just shrugged. "She did say something about her uncle coaching a team." Sophie stared at him, incredulous. "How was I to know? I don't watch soccer."

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taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery @vicurious28 @taytaylala12 @c-losur3

@hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams

@itsjustkhaos @sam-is-lost @laneyspaulding19 @formula1mount @bokutos-babyowl

@stampiej @alilcloudy @bingussthirdtoe @sisinever @lilymurphy03

@inlovewmarlenemckinnon @charllleclerc @richardniixon @sp1rl @nikfigueiredo

[i-trash-about-things]

Sunlight.

An Eddie x Vampire!Gender Neutral!Reader fic that i've been dreaming about for a few weeks.

Summary: After a long day of dealing with the leftover monsters Vecna felt behind after his defeat, Eddie comes back to his trailer hoping for some rest. A mischivious shadow comes knocking.

wc: 2.2k

cw: swearing (a lot) (sorry), mentions of food, mentions of knives and blades, Vamp has two descriptions (black nails, red eyes) but nothing other than that, very brief mentions of drugs. Mostly just humor and setting up for now

chapter one: A soul that's born in cold and rain knows sunlight

The night is dark. As it tends to be.

Something lingers in the air, a faint scent of iron, a chill… You know, normal autumn smells. Living in Hawkins for so long makes you familiar with it, no matter how much you hate it. Summer smells like dew, spring like pollen, so on and so forth.

Eddie likes the smell of Fall. It’s weirdly soothing, even as he walks back home after a long, long day of helping Dustin find a high enough place to set up Cerebro 2.0. So far, no such luck. Since the last one got destroyed, the range of the walkies is a fraction of what they need right now.

Maybe they’ll have better luck tomorrow.

The trailer is silent as he walks in, no sign of Wayne’s signature Dolly Parton tape playing, so he’s probably back at the shelter. Stubborn old man he is… But then again, so is Eddie. The plant was shut down weeks ago, and he still heads out every other night to help around.

After setting his jacket on the rickety chair next to the front door, kicking off his shoes and cutting off the guitar solo playing from his beat up Walkman, Eddie goes straight for the kitchen, the rumbling of his stomach stronger than the need to sleep. The fridge hums alive, flickering light warming up the room for a split second. Once the leftover spaghetti is in hands, he kicks it back closed, and the gentle humming is muffled by the beeping of the microwave.

Living in the so-called, “end of the world” isn’t nearly as exciting as Eddie thought it would be, in all his daydreaming in biology class.

“Beep! Beep! Beep!”

“Alright, I heard ya the first time.” He mumbles, getting up from his slacked position against the counter, but just in that split second— Something runs by his window. Darker than a shadow, and quicker too.

He freezes. Immediately. The microwave keeps beeping, but his eyes don’t move away from the tiny window, squashed between the top cupboard and the counter.

What in the lord’s name was that?

Demogorgon?

No. Too slim. Smaller.

Bat?

Also, probably not. It’d be screaming loud enough to wake up the entire trailer park, and they always travel in packs.

… Then what?

Eddie instinctively reaches for his walkie, walking backwards to the small folding table near the hallway without taking his eyes from that very same spot. After tattering around in the dark for a hot minute, the bulky, plastic case is in his hands, and he presses the talk button before it’s even within reach.

“Guys?” He mumbles, although all that answers is static. “Anyone home?? Over.” Still static.

Goddamn Cerebro.

“Piece of shit.” Eddie tosses the walkie-talkie on the kitchen counter, nervously pacing in place for a second before darting to the window on the other side of the trailer, all but jumping over the coffee table and peaking behind the curtains. The usually familiar sight of the trailer park makes his skin crawl tonight, the bright light of the full moon bringing little comfort when he sees there’s… Someone.

Standing there.

Looking at him.

He stumbles back in a hurry, practically falling on his ass. Looking at him, they were— They were looking at him, who the hell was that?!

The split second where he has to gather himself, pushing himself back to his feet, gives his frantic brain enough of a pause to think. ‘Jesus Christ, Munson, get a hold of yourself,’ the carpet feels cold under his bare feet, even as he reaches for the metal bat resting near the door. ‘You live in a trailer park, dude. It’s probably just Mr. Collins getting too high again and forgetting there are bloodthirsty monsters roaming around now.’

As long as it’s not another of those beasts, he’ll take his chances. The front door opens with an uncomfortably loud noise as he steps out, the grip on the bat tightening. It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine.

He turns the corner…

There’s… No one there.

What?

Okay, now he feels he’s losing his mind.

Eddie walks carefully to the spot the shadow was standing, less than a minute ago. It— It was there. They. It? He’s starting to question if it was even a person in the first place. No one could’ve moved so quickly, so silently. He would’ve heard, there’s dozen of fallen leaves thrown around the yard. Where…

Something hits him on the back of the head.

“AH!” He swings the bat so hard it almost flies out of his hands, his eyes wide while they adjust to the dark. No one. What the fuck? “What the fuck?!”

Eddie looks around frantically. Something definitely hit him— light, right on the back of his head, like those annoying paper balls he got tortured by back in freshman year, the motivation behind him constantly sitting in the very last row since then. His foot hits something as he spins in place, and his eyes instinctively dart down. What he finds… Is a small pine cone.

“What…?” He mumbles, so painfully confused. How…

Someone chuckles.

His head snaps up, heart stuttering in his throat from fright. There’s no one there. Not that he can see, at least. He shifts on his feet again, looking over his shoulder— Just for another pine cone to come hurling, hitting his nape. “Ow! Hey!”

Another laugh, more muffled and barely contained. Whoever is chucking these is certainly having the time of their life.

A pinch of annoyance crawls up his chest. Without really thinking, he crouches, not breaking his gaze from the tree line, and once the damn cone is in his hands, he gets back up and chucks it. “Will you stop doing that?!”

A beat passes.

There’s a ruffling in the shrubbery, and Eddie’s grip on the bat tightens. Slowly, almost shyly, another pine cone rolls out from beneath a bush. It bounces once, a few of the seeds cracking, before landing between his feet again. His brows set into a confused frown.

“What…” He eyes the damn thing, then the shadows between the trees, then the cone again. When there isn’t any movement or suspicious giggling, he slowly moves down…

“Greetings.”

A shadow looms over him. Eclipsing the moonlight, covering his only light source. He looks up.

Bright, red, eyes look back at him.

Eddie thinks he might’ve died for a minute. His heart full on stops, the air in his lungs turning into an ice block from pure terror. Like a deer in the glare of the headlights about to be slaying by a terrible wolf, he freezes.

The shadow’s smile widens.

“Are you okay?”

Like a punch to the gut, everything comes back. Every nerve stands, blood rushing and his heart smashing against his rib cage. Eddie jumps, raising the bat with a swing Steve taught him, but it dodges so fast it’s like the metal passes right through it. That same chuckle rings through his ears, and he swings again, again—

Thunk!

Until it’s stopped, mid-motion. A hand grips it, tight, knuckles not even flinching when he tries to pull it back. But the shadow doesn’t tear it off his hands, simply holding it.

“Woah, careful with that,” The shadow mumbles, bringing his eyes up to it’s– their face. “You could poke someone’s eye out with that thing.”

Eddie’s eyes, wide and frantic, pupils contracted into pinpricks, take in the shadow’s face. And in between heartbeats, he feels his cheeks heat for an entirely different reason. They’re terrifying, the lack of blood in their complexion making them seem almost undead, but still— He knows, if he met this person in a completely different setting, he would’ve done a double take.

‘Oh no they’re hot.’

It’s a split second thought, one quickly pushed aside when he notices something else.

The canines in their smirk. Elongated, curved, impossibly sharp.

‘OH NO.’

‘THEY’RE A VAMPIRE.’

Eddie doesn’t even think twice when he lets go of the bat, taking several steps back and almost tripping on a stray rock in his hurry to move away. When he stumbles, though, a deathly cold hand steadies him.

“Wow, okay— Slow down, you’re going to hurt yourself at this rate.” The shadow says, their eyes leaving Eddie’s for the first time since they locked together to glance down to his unsteady feet. The hand resting between his waist and hip feel almost branding, the freezing chill so intense it passes through his W.A.S.P. tee to his skin. Meanwhile, his thoughts run so rampant he feels like he’s two steps from passing out.

Vampires, vampires— this has to be a joke, right? Mind controlling shadow monsters? Hell spawn looking bats? Plausible! He’s seen them! Almost used to them at this point! And this— this person, if he can even call them that, doesn’t look like they’ve been touched by the Upside Down and the remains of Vecna’s influence. No twisted flesh, goo black blood. If it weren’t for the glowing red eyes and fangs, they’d look almost human.

“Who are you?!” His voice is loud on the quiet night, embarrassingly high pitched. When Eddie tries pushing himself off their hold, his heart stutters when all he can do is squirm. It’s steady, firm, and it doesn’t even flinch no matter how roughly he pulls. After a second, they let go. “What are you??”

“Can you please stop screaming?”

“What are you doing in my trailer?!”

“Okay.” The shadow – vampire – sighs, actually stepping back and putting some space between the two. They raise their hands in surrender, like they’re trying to calm a rabid, scared animal, and Eddie instinctively glances towards them. Maybe a part of him expected them to be covered in blood, like the dramatic covers of those terrible Dracula books, but he’s surprised to find just dark painted nails, ends thinned into sharp points. But not at him, not at all.

He looks back into those damned eyes, the sign of mischief from before nowhere to be found now.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” They declare. “I’m not here to cause you, or anyone, any harm whatsoever.”

Eddie could cackle at that. HA YEAH RIGHT!

“Do you really think I believe that?!” He’s two steps away from shouting now, although he stopped trying to run away. Mostly because he doesn’t think he could reach his van in time. “Nice try, Dracula, I’m not falling for that shit!”

The vampire’s eyes lower a little at that, their head moving down as well like they’re trying to make themselves look smaller, less threatening. Or less visible, like a panther about to pounce. Still, their gaze never leaves his.

“What makes you think that?” Their tone sounds like a joke, the same teasing tilt from a minute ago when they were chucking pine cones to the back of his neck– but there’s a hint of something deeper that makes Eddie frown.

“Are you kidding?? Look at you!” He gestures wildly, eyes following his hands which point up and down their form. His own words catch up to him after a second, and the comeback dies at the very tip of the tongue.

“Look at you! As if trailer trash could actually do anything worth while!”

“Of course he’s a Munson. Could tell with a single look at his face. I bet my entire house he’s exactly like his father.”

“Did you see his hair? Yeah, totally a freak. Could tell from a look he’s into Satanism.”

Eddie swallows harshly.

“What are you doing here?” He tries to keep moving, not lingering on the sudden heaviness on the back of his mind.

The vampire hesitates for a beat, eyes still so static on his own it’s like they don’t even blink.

“I saw what you and your group have been doing around town.” Their voice is calm, slow, hands slowly lowering just a little but always making a point to be within his view. “I was passing through and was interested.”

The twitch of his brow is from confusion this time. ‘Saw my group?’ ‘They’ve been watching us?’ ‘Interested?’

“What?”

“I’ve been staying at the motel near the edge of town.” They gesture over their shoulder, jogging Eddie’s memory to the one entrance to Hawkins still open. “I travel around a lot. Happened to stop by. Was out about one night and saw you and some others fighting off a big, inhuman beast. Easy to declare, I got curious.”

Eddie eyes them for a long moment, the silence setting between them once more. Their words settle on his brain, slowly. It makes sense… As improbable as it feels, it makes sense.

His eyes close, instinctively, to try and scramble for a response.

“A-And you came to me?” He asks, and the vampire shrugs.

“You’re the first one I found. I was out for dinner, recognized your van and popped by.”

Simple as that, huh?

Yeah, he doesn’t believe a single word there.

But, if they are true, of course it’d be his luck to be the first to meet the undead newcomer. Very consistent, shitty universe.

“Don’t— Don’t come any closer.” He hates how his voice shakes when he says those words, the rings on his hand glinting in the moonlight when he raises it to try and keep them back. The other slides slowly to his jeans back pocket, reaching for the familiar comfort of his uncle's old switch blade. Something he kept all these years, mostly to keep him safe in those particularly shady deals, and something he hopes, prays, would help him now.

At that, the vampire's smirk returns. Mischievous, playful, borderline cocky. Something, in the depths of Eddie’s chest, tingles, warm. Creeping up his throat with the way they arch an eyebrow, burning up with way their raised hands curl.

“Or what? You’re gonna stab me?” He freezes. How–

A strong wind hits his face, a flurry of fallen leaves kicking up, and a soft voice whispers into his ear.

“Monster hunter.”

Ends on a bit of a cliffhanger because I wanted to post the first chapter on Hallowen and I'm a vry slow writer lol sorry.

I've got a lot planned for this one :] it's been simmering for a while so I hope you guys enjoy the ride as much as I will

WATCH ME PUT AS MANY HOZIER REFERENCES HUMANLY POSSIBLE IN EVERY CHAPTER HAHAHAHAHAHAH

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Big brother

Word count: 1400+

Warnings: mentions of Beron and whipping

For @erisweekofficial, Day 2: Childhood/Legacy

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

The moment Eris found out that his father had left to attend to some business in a port city on coast, he headed to the High Lord's floor to mother's quarters. He was so excited that he ran all the way. As soon as he got to the right floor, he heard wailing of his youngest brother Lucien who was born two months ago. He sped up. He loved to help with his younger siblings, but Beron got always so mad when he found him by the crib. As a heir, he was supposed to learn how to rule and not to do babysitting. That was job for females, not males. However, even that couldn't stop him from sneaking to his mother's chambers. Spending some time with his brothers and mother was the most important thing for him, worth of any punishment.

Young Eris reached the doors of his mother's chambers, still panting knocked and without waiting for an answer he peeked in. His mother stood by window, baby Lucien in her arms. She was swinging with him gently from side to side, trying to sooth him. When she heard doors open, she turned around with wide eyes, most likely thinking it was his father who came to shout at her for not being able to keep the small brat quiet. When she saw face of her eldest instead, her features brightened up and she smiled at him tiredly.

"Oh, it's you." She had always a kind smile for him and Eris's heart jumped with joy at the sight. If only he could spend more often with her.

"Eris, sweetheart, what are you doing here?" she asked him, her voice weak and exhausted. "You know that if father finds out, he'll be angry and punish you again." She was worried.

Eris just smiled sheepishly and ran to her, excitingly peeking at small bundle in her arms. The baby whined again, crocodile tears rolling down his chubby cheeks. Baby Lucien had light red hair like him and his mother, but unlike the rest of his siblings, his skin was a pinch darker.

"Don't worry, mother, he won't find out," he beamed. "He left and won't be back anytime soon. I heard some of the lords when I was returning from the training. He is expected to return next week."

His mother visibly relaxed hearing the good news. Actually, whole Forest House seemed to breathe out in relief every time his abusive father left.

Eris adjusted his shirt suppressing a hiss of pain. Just the other day Beron called for him to give him a lesson as he called it, for his misbehaviour. Eris wasn't sure what he had done wrong this time, but he wordlessly endured the whipping, then thanked to his father as was expected of him and left. Most of the lashes had already healed over the night, though the skin on his back was still red and very sensitive. Even the touch of fabric of the woollen shirt caused him pain and discomfort.

Though, he didn't want to worry his mother in case she didn't know about the beating yet, so he kept the smile plastered to his face, pretending that nothing happened.

His amber eyes roamed over her kind but tired face.

“You need to rest, mother," he spoke in a mature voice that didn't match his age.

"You sound like all grown male," she smiled at him sadly, tucking unruly strand of hair behind his ear lovingly. "How could you grow up so fast? It feels like it was just yesterday when you were this small and I held you in my arms."

Eris's eyes filled with tears as he snuggled to her side, embracing her as best as he could. He missed the times when he could spend even entire day with her. They used to go to the gardens together, playing in fallen leaves, tending to flowers or tracking small hedgehog and then she would read him stories until he fell asleep in her arms. Eris pushed the tears back, burring those nice memories deep within him. Those times wouldn't return no matter how much he wished for it. At least not until his father was still alive and then.. well, then he would be too old for such things anyway. He had to enjoy this moment of peace before it would be over.

He cleared his throat focussing on purpose of his visit. "You need to rest," he repeated firmly.

She kissed crown of his head and sighed. "I'd love to, sweetheart. Unfortunately, Lucien here is fussing since the early morning and won't let me put him down for even a second."

Eris's eyes shone with joy. That was the call he waited for. "I can take him for a walk, if it's okay," Eris immediately offered. That's what he planned from the very beginning.

"Would you?" his mother chuckled. She knew her son too well. She knew what he came for the moment she saw his face. Ever since he got his first brother, Eris came to take his siblings for a walk or to play with them, so she could have a minute for herself.

Eris enthusiastically nodded.

"Well then," she mused, placing still fussing baby into his waiting arms. He hardly could stay still, his eyes shining with excitement. "But don't go too far with him. He'll get hungry in hour or so. And keep an eye on him." She'd like to add more warnings, but her eldest was very attentive and good at babysitting in general. Instead, she took a deep breath to calm down. Lucien would be safe with Eris. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to his little brother.

"I won't, don't worry," Eris assured her. “I'll take him just down to the garden and to the river. I'll bring him back before he gets hungry."

Meanwhile, baby Lucien stopped crying, his big russet eyes trained on his older brother as if he understood every word.

Lady of the Autumn laughed. They were so adorable. "Look at you, Lucien. You wanted your older brother to hold you all this time?"

The baby happily babbled, his small hands reaching up for big brother's face. Eris beamed, kissing him on forehead. Baby giggled merrily in response, kicking his feet.

"Let's go out," Eris said, already heading for the doors, not forgetting to snatch a blanket from the chair.

Lady of the Autumn watched her eldest and youngest lovingly until the doors closed behind them. Eris could feel her eyes on his back, the feeling making him all warm even long after that. He quickly walked down the hallways and staircases, while Lucien silently eyed changing surrounding in awe.

Eris stopped only once they reached the river bank and sat down under the tree. He wrapped his baby brother in the blanket and sat him with his back against his chest, so he could see the flowing waters. This was Eris's favourite place. He took all his brothers down here. The babies always calmed down here and soon became sleepy. It was magical place.

"Look, Lucien," he whispered into his ear. "It's river. When you grow up, I'll teach you how to swim here and catch fish. What do you think? Do you want to fish here with me?"

Baby Lucien babbled happily, waving his little fists in the air and doing grabby moves at dragonflies flying around them, then he pushed them into his mouth, trying to eat them. Eris chuckled and gently wiped the saliva that ran down his chin.

It didn't take long and Lucien passed out in his brother's embrace, tired from all the previous crying. Eris was enjoying this peaceful moment, breathing in lungfuls of fresh brisk air and soft baby's scent. He let his magic to swirl around them, keeping them both nicely warm. His eyes tracked the movements of the creatures living in the river while he gently rocked the sleeping baby brother in his arms.

It was beautiful autumn afternoon, leaves dancing in a cool breeze, shone with all the vibrant colours of autumn. Eris could finally relax, laughing at small cute noises baby in his arms made in the sleep. He was happy that he could spend some time with his little brother and even happier that he could help his mother. He didn't hurry to return back, not while Lucien was sleeping so soundly.

When he started to wiggle, Eris decided it was time to head back inside. He was sad that it ended so soon, but he could still stay at mother's chambers and help her out. He was really looking forward the almost whole week without his father.

[ultimate-babygirl]

Dick Headcanons (twst)

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle: Can a dick be cute? I think riddles would be. He’s not like small but y’know there’s bigger guys in the school. He’s average but he’s not going to let it stop him. It’s smooth and has a cute little pink head and it curves so gently (I want to fuck him so bad). He shaves but he’s one of those guys that barely grows hair down there anyway. Uncut

Cater: LONG. Not thick but he’s got LENGTH. He keeps it trimmed, and it’s circumcised. Not much to say otherwise. It’s good but nothing spectacular. It’s more impressive when it’s inside you.

Trey: The Biggest in heartslabyul. It’s long, it’s thick, and he will have to stretch you before he’ll even think about fucking you proper. It’s a little darker than the rest of him. He doesn’t shave it’s bushy. Uncut

Deuce: Fairly big. Nothing compared to Trey but he’s hung. Also uncut. he doesn’t shave often be he tries to keep it tamed. It gets so red when he’s hard

Ace: painfully average. He talks big game but his dick is like the most average dick one has ever seen. It’s not bad!! It’s just not at all what he talks it up to be. He’s circumcised, he doesn’t shave (he thinks it’s dumb and time consuming).

SAVANACLAW

Leona: ,,,it’s got ridges. HES THICK so fucking thick and as badly as he wants to just shove it in you he knows he has to prep you or get his ass beat later. Uncut, he keeps his hair trimmed but nothing special.

Ruggie: a little smaller than average but he makes up for it w/ incredible foreplay. A little darker than the rest of his body, and it gets this cute red flush when he’s hard. Doesn’t rlly shave but also doesn’t grow a whole lot so it’s not an issue. STUPIDLY sensitive. Circumcised.

Jack: KNOT!!!!! He has a knot idc no one talk to me he’s got one. He’s so big too ugh like proportionally it looks average on him but then you remember Jack is HUGE so his dick is too. A little darker than the rest of him. He keeps it trimmed short.

OCTAVINELLE

Azul: small (and he’s so self conscious about it). Like ruggie has experience to make up for it but azul does NOT. He doesn’t rlly need to shave since as a fish he doesn’t really grow body hair. Like riddle. If a dick can be cute, azul’s is definitely cute. Uncut and YES IT HAS BEAUTY MARKS IDC

Jade: LONGGG. Decently thick but mostly long. Again, doesn’t need to shave bc he doesn’t grow hair there. Also uncut. It curves just a little bit to the left.

Floyd: long and a little thicker than jade. Curves to the right. Overall though mostly the same. Uncut, doesn’t shave.

SCARABIA

Kalim: that’s like three housewardens w/ small dicks now god. I’m sorry but he’s just below average. It’s not bad!! He’s not at all self conscious about it. Much prefers to use his hands. He’s uncut and keeps it trimmed.

Jamil: a little longer than normal but otherwise average. Shaves smooth and he’s uncut. It’s got a bit of a thick head but when it pops in and he starts fucking you proper? 😩

POMEFIORE

Vil: Lonng. Keeps himself shaved smooth. He’s circumcised and the head gets pink when he’s hard. If I were to describe a dick as pretty it’d be vils

Rook: WHY IS HE SO THICK. Average in length but good lord he’s thick. It doesn’t seem natural 💀. Keeps himself trimmed, uncut.

Epel: ANOTHER CUTE DICK!!! Overall average but it’s so smooth and pink one can’t help but find it kind of cute. Of course that changes once he’s on top of you but this is about LOOKS. He doesn’t shave but he is circumcised.

IGNIHYDE

Idia: long, pale, smooth,, I want it in my mouth hhhhh. The carpet matches the drapes (not that one could tell, he shaves for convenience). Circumcised. Flushes all the way to the base

I ain’t doin ortho

DIASOMNIA

Malleus: TWO!!!! DICKS!!!!!!!!! They’re both decently long. Not so thick, but still a good size. Obviously the fact that he has two makes up for it. Both are uncut. He trims the hair, nothing fancy.

Lilia: ANOTHER ONE FOR THE CUTE DICK GANG. I’m obsessed w/ men having pretty/cute cocks evidently. This is something he actively chooses to have tho. He shaves it clean and he’s circumcised. The head gets so red it looks like it hurts

Sebek: THICKKKKK he’s so thick and for WHAT. I need to kiss it. Circumcised, doesn’t shave just bc he doesn’t feel like it. It’s not a major concern for him as long as he’s clean. Its a little darker than the rest of him. It’s got such a thick head too ugh. I just know he stretches u out SO GOOD

Silver: Average size, a little longer than normal. He keeps his hair trimmed. Uncut. Otherwise just. Fairly normal

[system-to-the-madness]

Heart Aflame (3/3) - Zuko x Reader

Word Count: 3 901 Warnings: kidnapping, slavery, human trafficking, colonialism, mentions of: torture, physical violence, death Summary: You learn about a camp where your kidnapped sister might be held, so Zuko and you head out to find her   A/N: Part 6.3 of the series Perfect (10 times Zuko thought you were perfect and the first time he told you)

Part One - Part Two

There was the cell you had been looking for. And the door stood wide open.

Your heart, one minute ago still beating wildly, suddenly sank. You were too late.

Nonetheless, you stepped forward to look into the cell. It seemed smaller than the other cells, darker, wetter. And it looked like someone had lived here for a while. A blanket was bunched up in a corner on the cold stone floor, a tray with half eaten porridge stood in the middle of the room, a wooden cup with water had fallen over and spilled across the ground.

Taking a step into the cell, you picked up the blanket. It was still warm. Whoever had been in here had been taken only a few minutes ago.

“They knew we were coming,” you realized, turning to Zuko who stood in the door, his expression clearly displaying his frustration. “How did they know?”

“I have no idea. But we need to find Xiang,” Zuko decided. “Come on.”

Stepping forward, he grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet. “Maybe they moved her to one of the offices on the second floor. Some of them have special rooms to interrogate prisoners for information.”

And just like that you were running again. The air was burning in your lungs, but you were grateful to be able to move. It helped with the nerves and gave you a little more time to think. How had they known you were coming to find Xiang? Had it just been a coincidence? Xin Yan had said they didn’t know where Xiang was kept. Maybe it was normal for them to move her around. Had it even been her cell you had found? And how was it possible you hadn’t seen them on your way in? Was there another way out of the Mould?

Before you had been able to answer any of the questions for yourself, you had already reached the staircase, and taking two steps at a time, you raced upstairs, back out into the hall and straight into a group of guards.

You stumbled to a halt, making Zuko almost run you over as he came sprinting out of the door right behind you, and you couldn’t help but miss the irony of the situation from before having been reversed. You running into him vs. him running into you. Nobody being where you had expected someone to be there vs. too many people being where you had expected nobody to be.

The guards raised their weapons against you threateningly and without thinking, Zuko pushed you behind his back, summoning his fire.

“I am Prince Zuko, son of Fire Lord Ozai,” he declared, his voice having taken a sinister tone. “You will lay down your weapons or suffer the consequences of disobeying your prince!”

“A banished prince,” one of the guards mocked. “You have no power here!”

A blast of fire hit the guard straight into the chest, making him collapse on the ground.

“Lay down your weapons,” Zuko repeated, his voice nothing like the hesitant, almost shy tone you had gotten used over the few weeks you had spent with him. Instead, it was the voice of a leader, the voice of the fire lord, a voice that tolerated no objection.

The guards started hesitating. That was the difference between a normal military post and this prison school: usually the imprisoned students would probably submit to the threat of violence. But Zuko and you were different. He had received special military training, was a Fire Bender and had spent years of his life fighting real fights like most of the guards had probably never experienced before. You had none of that, but your own life mattered only little when it came to saving your little sister.

A motion behind the guards drew your attention towards it. It was Guo, there was no doubt about it. Had she been the one who had alarmed the guards? Had she recognized you, and made the connection that you were here to break out Xiang? But she wasn’t alone, you suddenly realized. She was dragging something along… someone.

In that moment, the thin, weak voice of a little girl tore through the tense silence.

“Nene!”

It was just two syllables, but that was all it took to tear your heart in two and make you forget everything around you.

Nene, the nickname your sister had always called you. A toddler-version of the local dialect for ‘big sister’. It had been one of her first words, right alongside ‘mama’ and ‘dada’.

She was here. Xiang was right here with you. And she was being held prisoner by the one person who still haunted your nightmares even years after last having seen her.

Not giving the guards or Zuko or anyone else a second thought, you jumped forward, past the spear tips pointed at you and pushed past the guards.

Guo stood in the door to the yard, a wicked, satisfied grin on her bony face as she watched you race towards her. One of her skeleton-like hands was wrapped around Xiang’s little arm, and in the other-

You came to a slithering halt as you recognized the blinking metal in her other hand as a knife.

“Don’t hurt her,” you screamed. Your vision blurred, everything seemed out of focus except for the woman and her weapon in front of you. “Don’t hurt her, please.”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize you,” the old hag sneered. “This brat here-” she shook Xiang, so her small body was thrown around violently, “is just as much trouble as you always were. Did you really think you could just waltz in here and get her back to your barbaric earth kingdom ways?”

“She’s more Fire Nation that you! It’s in her blood,” Xiang spat, her voice brave even though she was being treated so harshly.

Behind your back, Zuko took out the guards, but you didn’t even notice the noise and heat of the fight, only focused on Guo.

“Did you really think, after all the trouble you always caused, I wouldn’t recognize you? I’ll admit, I was uncertain last night, but the sunlight left no doubt, not even in your pathetic disguise as Fire Nation. You’re disgracing the royal colours,” Guo went on. “And the guards: when you were running around down there, didn’t you once question why there were no guards?”

She was right you realized, as heat begun welling up in your stomach. Even though the cells had been filled with students taken prisoner, there had been no guards around. You had been so focused on finding Xiang, that you had ignored all the signs that you were too late. The heat of embarrassment and shame, fear and desperation begun spreading from your stomach down your legs and into your arms.

“You cheated,” Xiang suddenly screamed. “You built the secret passageway and tried to outsmart Nene, but she’s still better than you! She found me and she’s gonna take me home!”

Xiang started struggling against Guo’s harsh grip, but the old woman just yanked her back. The heat that had taken over your body seemed to flow into your hands, making your fingertips tingle almost painfully.

“Stay still or I’ll cut you,” she threatened.

“Don’t hurt her,” you repeated, staring like hypnotized at the way Guo brought the knife closer and closer to Xiang’s skin. Your hands felt like they were aflame.

In hindsight, you weren’t sure what exactly had happened. The moment Guo had moved the knife to Xiang’s arm, you had taken a step forward, reaching out as if you could cross the distance still separating you with the reach of your arm to stop Guo from hurting your little sister. In the same moment it felt like an electrical discharge connected Guo and you in the same way Sokka had described lightning to be created by immense tension between two electrical charges. This was the feeling that raced through your body, accompanied by a feeling of almost relief and the fraction of a second later, a red burning spear made of fire lodged into Guo’s arm.

Her scream echoed back from the tall walls of the hall, and she dropped the knife from her injured hand, letting go of Xiang in favour of clutching the burned stab wound where the spear of fire had disappeared into nothingness.

“Xiang,” you shouted for your sister, who perplexed watched as her tormentor was sinking to her knees, still screaming.

“You’re a Fire Bender,” she wailed accusingly, directing her little bead-like black eyes to you. “You’re a Fire Bender. Traitor! Traitor!”

“Xiang, come on,” you raced forwards, grabbing your sister who was turning to stare at you wide eyed, before snapping back into the moment.

“Behind you!”

One of the guards seemed to have evaded Zuko and was coming straight for you. He was only a few meters away, his sword already up in the air to strike you down, you who was weapon less and defenceless against him. You lifted your hand again, feeling the same relief of the discharge as before and a moment later, a spear of fire bore through the guard’s leg, and he stumbled to the ground.

“Let’s go!”

Zuko came running over, his eyes only scanning over the quickly dissolving spear of fire before he grabbed Xiang, lifting her into his arms effortlessly, and running out into the yard.

You followed him, still feeling the heat in your fingertips. Zuko was running fast, even while carrying Xiang, who helplessly clung onto the young man’s neck. You almost dared hoping you would make it out of the school the way you had gotten in, when suddenly soldiers came swarming into the yard. Not just guards but actual Fire Nation soldiers.

“We need Appa,” you called, catching up with Zuko.

“Not in here. He’ll get captured,” Zuko refused, firing a blast against the soldiers who had closed in from the left. “Let’s take the main gate!”

You changed directions, following Zuko. The soldiers were approaching you fast. They would have caught up with you before you had reached the gate. And even if you made it. The gate was closed. You’d be trapped.

“We’re not gonna make it,” you shouted to Zuko, whose eyes were stubbornly focused on the gate, his expression grim.

“Keep going,” he told you, and you had no choice but to trust him and follow him.

From the right soldiers were catching up to you, and for a third time you allowed the strange sensation of the discharge wash over you, firing not one but several speers in quick succession at your pursuers, who fell back at the threat of getting impaled by fire. A few meters later, you reached the iron wall of the gate. The metal was warm under your hands from the mid-day heat as you pressed your palms against it.

“What now,” you asked as Zuko sat Xiang down.

“I’ll melt the lock; you keep the soldiers in check!”

“How do you want me to do that,” you asked, in a mixture of anger and amused disbelief. You had no weapons, no shield, nothing but the clothes on your body. If it were just your life on the line, you might have been able to think more clearly, but it was also him and Xiang who were depending on you.

“Use your fire!”

The reply came in two voices, the voice of the boy who had already pressed his hands over the lock to melt it, as well as the small, high-pitched voice of your sister.

Not questioning them, you took a protective stance between them and the soldiers who came to a slithering halt when they saw you assume the same pose you had always seen Fire Benders assume in battle. Your heart was beating in your ears and your whole body felt like it had to be bursting into flames.

“No step further,” you warned them, but your warning seemed only to encourage them, as a few began edging forwards.

With a flick of your wrist, you drove a fire spear into the ground in front of one of the soldier’s feet. He gasped out in surprise. For a moment all of them seemed to hesitate, making a feeling of relief spread in your chest. But the relief was only short lived as a second later they all sprung forwards at the same time. This time it was no spear that shot out from your hands, but instead a wide fire blast, erecting a wall of flame between you and your attackers. Behind your fire they were screaming commands at one another, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying over the sound of blood rushing in your ears and the hissing of the flames.

“I got it,” Zuko shouted, grabbing your arm and pulling you backwards.

The moment he touched you, the wall of flames died down, but you had no time to worry about the state of the soldiers, as the gate swung open and Zuko pulled you along with him, having Xiang already lifted into his arms again. The high-pitched whine from Aang Sky Bison whistle sounded in your ears, and hand in hand Zuko and you sprinted down the road you had seen the day prior.

Behind you, the soldiers had already started to pursue you, and even though you had escaped the school, for the first time it felt like you had nowhere to go. If Appa didn’t make it in time, where were you supposed to go? The island was tiny, you’d be caught in no time.

But your thoughts got wiped out by the shadow suddenly covering the sun from above, and a second later Appa touched down on the ground before you.

In one swift motion Zuko all but threw Xiang onto Appa’s back, jumping up with little to no effort as well, before he turned around and offered you his hand. You had barely grabbed it, when he already yelled “Yip yip” and Appa begun floating away from the ground.

Your feet were dangling in the air, but Zuko pulled you into Appa’s saddle with one strong pull, causing you to stumble over the edge and right into him, causing him to fall backwards, with you on top of him.

For a moment, you just lay there and breathed. Sweat was running down your face, your legs hurt from running, your arms and hands felt so sore you could barely move them. The world seemed to be spinning, and black dots were dancing in your vision. But Zuko’s body underneath you was warm and soft. His breaths came in irregular pants and his hand, still closed around yours made you feel safe and comfortable.

It was only a moment later that something heavy and soft plummeted into your side, causing you to roll over and off Zuko. Xiang had launched herself into your side, wrapping her thin little arms around your middle and burying her face in your stomach.

“You came for me,” she cried, her small body shaking with sobs as she pressed closer to you. “Everyone said you were dead, but I knew you’d come and find me.”

Suddenly it felt like you couldn’t breathe. You were still panting from the chase, but your throat closed up and tears sprung to your eyes. For over a year you had dreamt of this moment, of finally holding Xiang again. You had lost count how many times you had seen her die in nightmares, how many times you had pictured getting to see her again, and now she finally was back where she belonged, back with you.

Through tears you looked up to Zuko, who had sat up, leaning against the wall of the saddle. His eyes were soft as he was watching you hold your sister tightly, and you knew that he didn’t need you to say out loud how grateful you were for his help.

-

The flight took several hours, and by the time the sun started setting over the sea, Xiang had told her story to Zuko and you. Trying to offer you some privacy, Zuko had moved to Appa’s head, letting you talk by yourselves, but now, as the sky turned pink and orange, you had asked him to join you back on the saddle. Appa would find the way on his own; he always found Aang without even trying, and you were worried Zuko would fall asleep and fall off Appa. After all, it had been a long journey.

Xiang had calmed down a while ago, clearly exhausted. Now you and Zuko sat opposite one another in the saddle, Xiang cuddled into your side and covered by the jacket Zuko had stolen for himself in the laundry room. (He had insisted on using his jacket as a blanket for Xiang, not wanting you to get cold in the cooling evening air.)

After a while of silence, he eventually spoke up.

“I didn’t know you were a Fire Bender,” he said, closely watching your reaction.

It took you a moment to process his words, before you slowly looked up at him.

“I’m not,” you disagreed.

“You clearly are. You created fire spears and a whole wall of fire back at the school. That was some quite impressive Fire Bending.” Zuko reminded you. “Not something Non-Benders can do.”

“But I’ve never fire bent before,” you shook your head. “I’m not a Fire Bender.”

“Maybe you’ve just never tried,” Zuko offered, “or been in a situation where you needed it. But I’m sure you’d become a great Fire Bender if you were to train a little.”

“I don’t want to become a Fire Bender,” you replied, your answer harsher than he had expected.

Zuko hesitated for a moment before asking: “Why not?”

“All they’ve ever brough my family was pain and suffering. I don’t want to be like them.”

Zuko ignored the painful stab in his chest at your words. But it made sense, he guessed. Your family had been torn apart by Fire Benders. He had been your friend for less than a month. He couldn’t expect his friendship with you to be able to change your perspective on a whole group of Benders overnight.

“Even if your fire had the power to save her,” he asked carefully, nodding towards Xiang. “If you hadn’t used Fire Bending multiple times today, we would be prisoners of the Fire Nation now… or worse.”

You looked down to where your sister was sleeping in your lap, and slowly brought a hand up to her hair, brushing your fingers over it.

“I’m scared of hurting people,” you admitted. “I don’t want to cause pain and suffering, too. I know, I already did today, but…”

“Fire can be more than just a weapon, you know,” Zuko offered. “It can be used for good, too. To light up darkness, to create warmth in the cold. It can even be art. When I was little, we’d have these dancers come to visit the palace sometimes, and they’d dance at night, using their flames to paint patterns and sceneries into the dark. You don’t have to use your fire to fight, but I think it would be better if you learnt how to handle it, otherwise you might end up hurting someone by accident.”

You bit your lip and looked down at your hands.

“Just because I summoned it today, doesn’t mean I’ll be able to do it again tomorrow,” you told him. “I haven’t been using Fire Bending for more than fifteen years, didn’t even know I could. For all we now, it might take me another fifteen years until I can use it again the next time.”

Zuko sighed. “That’s not how bending works. Listen, I’m not trying to talk you into doing something you don’t want to. I really don’t but… The access to your bending is… like a jar of jam.”

Irritated you looked up at him, an amused smile tucking at your lips.

“A jar of jam,” you asked, making him shrug, but he couldn't deny the pride in his chest that he had gotten you to smile.

“Like a jar of strawberry-peach jam,” he agreed. “You know how when you first open a new jar, it’s so hard, almost impossible to open? But once you’ve got it open, no matter how hard you try to screw it shut, it’ll always be way easier than when you first opened it.”

“If my bending runs out as quickly as a jar with strawberry-peach jam, I got nothing to worry about,” you joked, making Zuko sigh.

“That’s not- that’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

For a while you sat in silence, Zuko keeping a close eye on you, as you were running your hands through Xiang’s hair, detangling her locks. It was awfully obvious that she had been neglected over the past weeks, if not months. Her small body was too thin and light for a child her size and age. Her face, that was supposed to be childishly round, had fallen in cheeks, and dark circles were painted under her eyes. Her hair was matt and matted, her skin pale and littered with scraps and cuts. Whatever they had done to her, Zuko doubted there was a punishment fitting for those responsible. Now Xiang was resting her head in your lap, her small hand curled around the fabric of the Fire Nation uniform you were still wearing, her tiny frame covered by Zuko’s jacket. His eyes wandered from her to you, the way your hands kept busying themselves with her hair or readjusting the jacket around her shoulders as if to make sure she was still with you. Or maybe you were trying to distract you from the fire your hands had summoned just a few hours ago. You looked tired, Zuko thought, but also happy. It had to have been like torture, knowing your sister was out there and being unable to help in the slightest. And now the relief of being reunited with her? Zuko couldn’t imagine how that had to feel. He was just glad he had gotten to help you.

“After the war…” Zuko perked up at your voice. “Promise me we’ll go back there and help these kids find their families again?”

Zuko stared across the small distance, at the way the setting sun was painting your features in warm golden. Did you have any idea how perfect you were? Not just beautiful and sweet, but also courageous, unapologetically gentle and still one of the fiercest fighters he had ever met.

He nodded. “Of course, of course we will.”

You smiled to him and nodded back before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Thank you,” you whispered over the rushing of the wind. “And Zuko?”

He hummed in reply, signalling he was listening.

“Will you teach me Fire Bending?”

He watched you for a moment, watched how your features seemed to relax. But when he answered with a quiet ‘yes, I will’, a small smile spread over your lips.

Soon the sun had sunken behind the horizon and the stars took over the sky, but Zuko couldn’t be bothered to tear his gaze away from your sleeping form and kept wake all the flight until you had reached Ember Island again.

Tags (it seems like some of the tags aren't working, sorry...):

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@girlkissersco

[cute-little-crow]

Holy shit I've just read your "is it in yet" and YOU DID SO. GOOD. SO. DELICIOUS. fANTASTICAL!! I also saw your recent posts about struggling getting it out but I assure you it's MORE than good!!! It's better than I could convey with words!!! To the point I needed to scream this out the moment I finished reading!! Which- by the way, took me some time because my cheeks were flushed at the end of every single one of it I needed breaks to compose myself in between! Again, SO GOOD. MORE THAN GOOD.

Thank you for the overwhelming amount of dom side of the LIs and huge shot of brat taming... A part of me died inside and immediately resurrected in 200% power from how good it is. Please excuse me because this might be a lengthy and feral fangirl I am sorry in advance

I am not even a Rafayel girlie BUT MY BRAIN STUTTERED SO HARD JUST BY READING THE FIRST DIALOGUE. BY THE TIME HE SEETHED THAT BREATHY "Brat..." I AM JUST??? DEAD. BRAIN SHORT CIRCUITED. PLEASE TURN ME INTO BRAINLESS LITTLE F- Cough cough. I am so so so incredibly beyond happy to see harsh dom Rafayel portrayed! Totally melting in this darker side of him which I totally craved since reading his omnipotent perception...🫠🫠🫠AND you totally nailed it! Got me feral the fact you still add on the cute little nickname despite his seemingly harsh and mean exterior but he's still a softie just for us and it makes me feel so much things... Bless...

Now Sylus. As my obsession that hasn't seemed to calm down even after 2 whole months with his existence I am down so bad for this man I can't even. THE ABSOLUTE DOMINATION THIS GUY HAS!!! THE CALM DEMEANOR!!! WONDERFUL!! SO DAMN WONDERFUL! The fact he was mid-marking us already gets me sobbing from the getgo. Yes please, more please. The chastise and condescending in his voice?? I can totally imagine it all the while he's ruining us. The description was so so so hot you wrote it amazingly. Love me delivering lord with overstimulation and creampies yes yes yes yes 🫠🫠🫠 I've said it but I'm saying it again but your description were phenomenal I somehow really liked the part mentioning us being wrung dry like a used towel because the objectification is *chef kiss*. The wolfish grin was the end of me I went absolutely feral when I read that part oh what a wonderful thing to be devoured and put into place by the big bad wolf himself 🥰🥰

AND DEAR GOODNESS THE FREAK SWITCH XAVIER HAS. As my initial favorite before Sylus came crashing in I am so not normal for him. One moment he looked as innocent as a little bunny and another he's devouring you like a beast- while still fucking you like a bunny in heat. Girl dinner. PLEASE?? THE FACT OUR HANDS WERE PINNED USELESSLY BELOW US?? THAT'S SO HOT YOU'RE A GENIUS. The teasing touches on our spine the bunching up of our hair into the best hairtie ever for a ponytail the whispers in our ear BARK BARK BARK. The seemingly degrading way he spoke of himself initially for 'not' delivering!! The gentle guides despite not so gentle treatment!! The subtle encouragement and praise!! The absolute feralness and yet the fact he still hold back to make it fully enjoyable for us and to never hurt us for real! *Sighs dreamily* Xavier the man you are. And the writer YOU are!

Last but definitely not least, Zayne.... ZAYNE. Dear gosh my heart skips a beat when you wrote about him opening his eyes. The immediate roleplay of a responsible and totally competent doctor got me alsjalksdkdnd. How composed and totally knowing he is that we're fully bullshitting our bratty way, one he dealt numerous times already in the past present and future... How confident he is of himself and his knowledge of us!! Intelligence is always hot. THE TEMPERATURE PLAAAAY THE MAGIC TOUCH YOU ARE DR. ZAYNE. The diagnosis killed me, brattitude is such an amazing word I love it so much I want this disease and be cured over and over by him. AND THE LAST DIALOGUE??? I DON'T KNOW WHAT ABOUT THAT, probably from how absolute of an order and how authoritative it is that made my brain shut down completely upon reading it. I am on my knees.

I hope you'll soon recover from your emotional crash and I wish you well! I hope you'll have a great day today, if not tomorrow, or the days after and so on. Thank you so much for the wonderful writing you have blessed us upon on the internet!

I read this last night and very nearly burst into tears 😭😭 I’ve read it over so many times… thank you for writing this, anon. I am genuinely so grateful to read feedback and you went all out with yours.

I want everyone to have a good time with my fics and that I gave you this kind of reaction makes me so damn proud.

I love you I love you I love you 💗💗

[natduskfall]

I’m not good at putting my feelings into text, nor am I a writer, or good at literature analysis, but I do have thoughts.

I never liked SSO’s writing to begin with. The writing of SL was okay for a game of that scope. I loved the mystery of a seaside town and strange powers that be. But SSO’s writing is confusing to me.

Dialogues almost always try to be funny, relatable, and it comes across as shallow or boring. I try to read all the dialogue because I am invested in the universe by now and I want to know everything about the events of the world and it’s characters. But lord is it hard sometimes to not skip the repetitive, shallow dialogue.

The characters lack debth and it is hard for me to like any of them. It feels like the Soul riders are just written as stereotypes. Don’t know something? Talk to Linda, she knows everything and loves doing research! She’s a nerd! Alex is the hurr durr let’s do shit without thinking anything over. Haha, Lightning goes zap zap!! Elizabeth is our teacher. A druid. And? Fripp? What even is Fripp? “Mysterious” leader who I don’t know anything about or don’t spend any time with. Who comes across as emotionless and disinterested in his charges. Avalon? Recluse who barely shows up and when he does, he always disagrees with everything.

I like that SSE has been trying to focus on the characters more. Elizabeth’s death didn’t make me feel anything because I just didn’t know her, didn’t have any attachments to her. If anything I laughed during that scene because of the way she ass slammed Darko like that Ground Slam Ash of War from Elden Ring, then got turned into Annie from Attack on Titan, and then blew herself up. That scene should have been an emotional story beat that should have gripped me and made me sad. Red Dead Redemption does that so well. I cried a lot during that game. I wish SSE took the characters seriously tho. It’s like every quest is an episode of The Simpsons where shit happens, it never gets acknowledged after, the characters don’t change. Every episode is a new start. I really like that they commited to the darker and real events, such as Lisa losing her mother, Alex having a dysfunctional low income family, and Anne getting over the real trauma of Concordes death, her kidnapping, and isolation. BUT THEY DON’T GO ANYWHERE WITH IT.

I want to love these characters and I want them to feel like real people, but it’s hard when they get treated as a joke, or the real and traumatic things that happened to them never get acknowleged and have no impact on them or the story. What about Linda and the betrayal of the Baroness? What about Meteor being lost. She didn’t even mention Meteor until the spymaster sent MC to tell her where Meteor was. And I am still waiting for the new Fort Maria quest to see the dynamic between the druids and the Soul Riders after the events of Justin’s rescue.

And the story…. Sometimes it just feels too whacky to me. I don’t know if the witches and golden apples are some folklore from Sweden, but I did not expect that when I first played through, and I did not like it. It felt like the game was spreading itself too thin? It felt out of place to me.

And sometimes, the quests feel like they have no impact. We need to do a difficult thing. Ha let’s do it this way. Go there. Click the ground. Done, we did it, yay!! It just feels very childish, lacking weight. I’m not sure how to put this into words, and I think there are people out there who are much better at this then I am.

I disliked the new Alex quest and felt unsatisfied. The whole questline had me anxious because the job of an event planner is so hard for me as a person with zero organisation skills and confidence. I am sure it is a very important and difficult job, and I was waiting for how SSE handled it. The entire time I felt like MC and Alex were not making any actual tuall progress. Then the whole thing got derailed to “let’s record a narrated tour of the CIty”. And when the quest ended, I was like “that’s it?”

The cinematic for Alex shows a resourceful, hard working and strong individual who got delt a bad hand, but found hope in Elizabeth. But the game keeps treating her like a stupid comic relief character who can only do one thing, and that is use her lightning power no matter the occasion. Even the Freeing Anne quest felt off to me. Why would Alex chose to go back and face Darko alone, when they keep rehashing the theme of “we’re stronger together”. Her power can be fueled by anger, but her main thing is to protect her loved ones. They got Anne, her priority should have been to get Anne out of there, not come back alone for Darko. It just felt like the writers did that because they needed Elizabeth to die, and MC getting stranded in Pandoria so that Lisa could use her singing power. And how would getting blown off a cliff into a bottomless space get rid of a powerful individual who can easily teleport himself and other people?

I really wish SSO would hire actual writers do deal with their story, the structure of the story, and the characters. Helena did such a good job making the main cast feel real, and structuring the story.

TLDR: SSE please hire a writer, and stop treating your characters like stereotypes. Stop treating Alex like a stupid person who goes zap

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Okay I'm not saying that I routinely imagine a jukebox musical of Othello using Florence + the Machine music but I'm not not saying that if that were to happen these would be the perfect songs:

THIS IDEA ORIGINALLY CAME FROM 'LUCY'S STUDY ACCOUNT <3' ON TIKTOK AND SHE HAS HER OWN FULL VERSION ON THERE THAT INCLUDES OTHER ARTISTS THIS WAS MY TAKE INSPIRED BY HER SUGGESTIONS OF 100 YEARS AND I'M NOT CALLING YOU A LIAR BECAUSE I HAVE PRETTY MUCH NOT STOPPED THINKING ABOUT IT SINCE I SAW HER VIDEO - I highly recommend checking out her list as well, I very much enjoyed it :)

100 Years

I believe in you and in our hearts we know the truth and I believe in love and the darker it gets the more I do. Try to fill us with your hate and we will shine a light, and the days will become endless and never, and never turn to night

And Lord don't let me break this, let me hold it lightly, give me arms to pray with instead of ones that hold too tightly

I let him sleep, and as he does my breath fills the room with love, hurts in ways I can't describe, my heart bends and breaks so many, many times

Hubris is a bitch

I'm Not Calling You A Liar (A duet between Othello and Desdemona and then a reprise when she dies would be amazing)

I'm not calling you a liar, just don't lie to me. I'm not calling you a thief, just don't steal from me. I'm not calling you a ghost, just stop haunting me. And I love you so much I'm gonna let you kill me

Which Witch (This screams Emilia weighing up her guilt for betraying Desdemona and her inability to say no to Iago because of everything he's done to her/her position in the relationship being so dangerous)

And it's my whole heart, deemed and delivered a crime, I'm on trial waiting 'til the beat comes out, I'm on trial waiting 'til the beat comes out who's a heretic now?

I'm not beaten by this yet you can't tell me to regret been in the dark since the day we met, fire help me to forget

Chained and shackled, oh, I'll unravel, oh, it's a pity, oh. Never to return, but I never learn, it's a pity, oh. Chained and shackled, oh, I'll unravel, oh, it's a pity oh. Say I won't return, but I never learn, it's a pity oh.

Queen of Peace (I'm imagining a Desdemona solo and maybe some chorus as well but I'd love to see her with this song, I'm picturing it to be after Othello hits her)

Suddenly I'm overcome, dissolving like the setting sun, like a boat into oblivion, 'cause your driving me away. Now you have me on the run, the damage is already done, come on is this what you want? 'cause your driving me away

Oh, the queen of peace, always does her best to please. Is it any use? Somebody's gotta lose. Like a long scream, out there always echoing. Oh, what is it worth? All that's left is hurt

And my love is no good against the fortress that it made of you, blood is running deep, sorrow that you keep

Big God (Okay hear me out: A three way split stage with Emilia and Iago, Desdemona and Othello, and Bianca and Cassio; all sing but mostly the women each singing different parts of this song to their respective partners)

Okay I feel like this one needs a little more explanation but for example

Women: You need a big god, big enough to hold your love. You need a big god, big enough to fill you up

Bianca: You keep me up at night, to my messages you do not reply

Desdemona: You know I still like you the most

All: the best of the best and the worst of the worst

Emilia: You can never know, the places that I go.

Desdemona: You know I still like you the most

Men: You'll always be my favourite ghost

And yes I can see the perfect choreography in my head

All This And Heaven Too (Desdemona singing this to Othello!?? I can also see it being a duet for them, but then with a harmony from Emilia as well singing alone but theoretically to Desdemona)

And the heart is hard to translate, it has a language of its own. It talks in tongues and quiet sighs, and prayers and proclamations, in the grand days of great men, in the smallest of gestures, in short, shallow gasps

And the words are all escaping, and coming back all damaged. And I would put them back in poetry, if I only knew how, I can't seem to understand it. And I would give all this and heaven too, I would give it all if only for a moment that I could just understand the meaning of the word you see, 'cause I've been scrawling it forever, but it never makes sense to me

Back In Town (Okay I don't know how to explain but I'm imagining Iago and Emilia alone on stage as he sings to her with very close choreography in a way that at a glance they could just be together but if you watch properly he's controlling her movements)

I'm back in town, why don't we go out? Let the rats spin around our feet, the full moon shines down on these dirty streets. Back in town, why don't we go out, to that ninth street diner? And carry on slowly, torturing each other

If you get spat on it's just your big city baptism, you're the star of the show. I'm back in town, why don't we go out and never go to sleep? Throw our dreams out, let them pile up on the streets

'Cause it's always the same. I came for the pleasure but I stayed, yes I stayed, for the pain

Falling (The Bianca vibes are undeniable, but also with the fallen from grace idea it has such potential to start as her singing and then gradually include more characters as it goes)

I've fallen out of favour and I've fallen from grace, fallen out of trees and I've fallen on my face. Fallen out of taxis, out of windows too, fell in your opinion when I fell in love with you

I could probably think of more if I put my mind to it but this is all for now, please add more if you think of any I'd love to see them!

[aladaylessecondblog]

that boy is a monster (good tav x gortash pt 11)

"Lord Bane--" Tav took a deep and shaky breath, "--firstly, there is no strength without weakness, no tyrant without the downtrodden he crushes."

"Platitudes for weak scholars," came the growl then, "And unworthy of my notice. If I hear no better argument than that your life will be forfeit."

Trembling, she cast about in her mind for something more. Bane, she thought, Bane, lord tyrannical oppression, terror, and hate. What best would please him? Maybe--it would be a gamble, but maybe--

Someone, help me...no. No, I am alone. I must help myself, because no one else will.

"With all respect, mighty Bane," Tav, remembering what she had learned of deference amongst the Banites, placed a kiss on the ankle of the jackboots and kept her head down. Her heart was practically beating out of her chest as she added, "You are wrong."

"You," Bane's voice grew somehow darker and even more dangerous, "Had better be able to justify that sentence, or I shall make a display of you that would make even a Bhaalist vomit."

"My lord," she said, in a deferential tone, "A tyrant without a victim is like a hammer without a nail. If there is nothing to crush, there is no value in the act of violence. If there is no softness there is no value in the hard."

The boot moved to the back of her head again. Tav trembled, and kept her head down.

"That does not answer my question. You, a woman of Ilmater, have bound yourself to my Chosen. Tell me how your acts of weak charity and nauseating compassion strengthen the commitment to his cause. Neither you nor he sought my blessing for this act, so tell me--why ought I to permit this travesty to continue?"

"I assist my lord husband in his tyranny," she said.

"You? You do nothing of the sort."

"My acts of charity hide his true nature, Lord Bane. With every compassionate act is added a...a new lie. That their lord is good and benevolent," Tav took a deep breath and steeled herself for a kick or worse. "I am not the doer of your will but the shadow in which your glory is plotted."

The boot moved back.

"Continue."

Still trembling, Tav obeyed, pausing only a moment before she spoke. "As the grass hides the predator before it strikes, so do I hide the tyrant before he moves. The blow unexpected is the most devastating."

"But you despise the tyrant, do you not? You cannot deny it, for I saw it when first you wed him."

"Perhaps it began that way, but...I have come to--to understand that I was wrong."

She pleaded in her mind for relief, for salvation. Not even after Cald's birth had she felt so alone, as now, when one false step would end her. And with nothing to defend her but her own wits. Where were the friends she had made, when most she needed them? Elsewhere. Casting narrowed, suspicious glances at her, suspecting her to be Gortash's pet and nothing more.

"You have fought to overthrow tyranny. You have worked against my will. Why now should I believe you?"

The boot moved to her neck and pressed down.

"I was ignorant, Lord Bane," Tav went on, "I was weak, and your Chosen showed me the better way. I..."

For a moment all words failed her.

"You what?" Bane prompted, his boot pressing down further.

Tav could still breathe, though only barely. Something in her was screaming in silent agony not to say the words that wanted to come out, the words that would seal her fate more thoroughly than any vow she made to Gortash.

"Some need to be beaten to see your wisdom, lord Bane, some need to see blood shed in your name, others--others, need nothing so extreme. Others crave the strength of order that only a tyrant can give...but fear to give in to the temptation."

"Temptation?" There was a laugh. "There is no temptation, only my might and those who seize it. My Chosen has done so, and in my name he expands his territory and rule, which by extension are mine. Nothing he has is not mine. Not..."

For a second, the press of his boot stole her breath.

"Not even you. What good are YOU to me?"

"No tyrant rules alone, my lord Bane," Tav said, struggling for breath when he finally removed his boot. "The leader of a great army has need of order in his house, that he may devote himself more fully to his cause. That I have given him. His image, his shadow, I maintain by my acts that seem for all the world as if they work against you. But in truth they bolster your Chosen. I yield to him in matters of greater weight, for he has shown me the wisdom of your way. That it can be sweet to yield to the firm hand, even more so than to strike it down."

Deep breath. She felt faint, but went on, grateful he hadn't yet struck her down.

"I have borne him his heir, giving him that which he needs to secure his rule. And though the love of my son runs counter to your design--there is nothing I would not do for my son's safety. Were a hundred devils before me, I would fight still for him to live and thrive. What is built by your hand is a weapon that my son will inherit, and thus, it is a weapon I must defend. My life is bound to your Chosen and your cause, though I could not see it before."

Silence. Her mouth was dry but she spoke the words that her heart had only whispered before.

"I have come to relish the gauntlet of your Chosen, the yoke of your burden. Tyranny is not always unwelcome--some of us fear to yield to the idea, but...but we crave to be controlled and find fulfillment under the strong hand of a master. Some, my lord, would yield to you willingly and thrive under such strength as you hold over them."

Tav was more and more unnerved by the silence that followed, and trembled horribly. This anxious terror was only amplified when she heard him next.

Laughter.

Bane was laughing at her. His voice cracked and blended, the sound mingling that of both himself and Gortash.

"At last you are honest with yourself. You are no Ilmatari, woman, you merely thought yourself so."

"Please, Lord Bane, help me to understand."

"You are Banite, you simply refused to admit it until now. Good. You have learned." The tip of the boot moved under Tav's chin and urged it upwards. "Back up. Back on your knees, slave."

She obeyed, and was surprised by what came next.

"Your master sees that you have done well."

She bristled slightly, though not in an unpleasant way. He was using a tone Gortash did now and then--when the nobles gave him trouble and he came back to her, knowing she would give him the control he wished. That she would give it without complaint, and revel in the praise he saw fit to dole out.

"Thank you, lord Bane," she said.

"Look at you," a hand came to her chin, tilting her head back, "You tremble with expectancy, and I see now the truth of your words. You are made to serve, to be the subordinate."

"Yes, my lord."

"Nothing," Bane's voice rumbled, "Brings you more fulfillment than obedience to a strong master, is that not so?"

She had been afraid, now--now--

I'm wet, why the bloody fuck am I wet?

"Tell me," his voice softened only slightly, "Whom do you serve?"

"You, Lord Bane. Only you."

Forgive me, she prayed, both to Silvanus and to Ilmater, Please forgive me.

"You give yourself to my Chosen, submit to his strength, belong to him in the sight of all Baldur's Gate," Bane's voice went on, even as the gauntleted hand twisted its fingers into her hair and tightened its grip there. A second later she was pulled flush against his thigh, with a bulge beneath the black trousers that she was intimately acquainted with just before her. "But to belong to a Banite is to belong to Bane. All that you give, all that you are, is mine."

"Yes, my lord," Tav assented, though her voice was still shaky, "I--am yours."

There was silence, broken only to her ears by the rapid beating of her heart.

He seemed to be waiting.

"How--would you have me serve?" she finally asked, after a longer still pause.

"How does one worship upon the altar of Bane...you ask this to my face?" his voice went on, "Has my Chosen taught you nothing?"

"Your Chosen has taught me to ask his wishes," Tav replied softly, "For they change often. I seek only to please you."

The temptation was there, present, stronger than ever, a yield to everything she had fought against since Gortash had first made his proposal.

Was Bane right? Had she simply been ignorant of what she really was?

She chanced a look up, at the green light of Bane's eyes, now dancing with mischievous satisfaction.

"I ask a question of my own."

"What is it, Lord Bane?"

She was pressed closer to the prominent erection in his host's trousers.

"Do you submit?"

"Yes."

"Then serve."

[littlelovelyspiderling]

just read through your avatar fics and I’m sorry, HOW?! HIW ARE YOU SO GOOD AT WRITING ZUKO?! The one where you Headcannoned animals just cuddle up to him while he’s sleeping????? AND HE DOESNT MIND???? MY HEART 😭😭😭😭

Seriously, you are so good at writing for avatar, and I’m sure for other fandoms even if I haven’t read them (yet), and I hope to see you more in the future!!! (Especially for some juicy Lee Zuko—lord knows he needs it 😭😭)

awww thank you friend 🥰 happy to hear people still like those stories!!

oh and this reminds me, i did get around to watching the new live action avatar show and for those who wanted to know here are my thoughts:

i did overall enjoy it, but like…you just cannot beat the og 😭 i felt so much darker and violent than the animated show and so much of the fun and joy that made the og shine was stripped away. while i liked the cast, the writers threw out a lot of the defining characteristics and important developmental arcs (sokka’s sexism being challenged by the kyoshi warriors, katara stealing the water bending scroll & her overall anger towards the fire nation for what they’ve put them thru, aang’s goofy childishness standing in the way of his avatar journey, etc). the things they chose to take out made everyone’s characters feel very flat.

i probably enjoyed zuko & iroh the most, i thought zuko’s actor was super sassy and bitchy & we love that haha. it was very cool to see the live action blue spirit & ko & other cgi spirits, but yeah…it could never take the place that the original show owns in my heart ♥️

[blamebonk]

uuu..... i tried to send an ask just now and i dont think it worked....... sorry if you get two in your inbox!!

But thank u for sharing HCs (not the original anon but just a hc enthusiast.....) i'd love to hear any more you have for Beel! Or perhaps Lord Diavolo.... he's a very fun character to me

ORRRR, perhaps, any takes on the Devildom/the realms, if youre into thinking about the worldbuilding side..... fank youuou ^_^ i give funny image in exchange

LMAO THANK U!!! I’ll take ur image and give you world building thoughts because that sparked something in my brain

Devildom headcanon talk!

Devildom is so super fun so I like to think the demons come in literally every shape and size, some don’t look human and don’t really have a human form ( more like minotaurs or some deep sea creature). Like okay Beel and Diavolo are big but there’s bigger!

There’s also demons out there that are there purely to harm and kill and there’s no school program or threats from royalty that could change them. Demons like those are like…human world cryptids, a lot of biblical sort of horror too as well.

Now that I think about it ( pretty sure this isn't canon like at all??) but the brothers def weren’t the only angels to fall and I guuuessss some of those guys could have also turned into good ol human looking demons….but I think there’s more that don’t have any ‘humanity’ in them. Not powerful enough to fully survive falling in a way... they look like, freaky as fuck HAHA

Like imagine you’re the human exchange student it’s like your 3rd night here and you look out your window and YOO!! A figure at your window, it’s got a deathly complexion but you can almost feel it’s heart beating from here and it feels like you know them and they're telling you to open the window PLEASE just open the window- they need help- the window- there’s a pounding now it’s eyes are burning into your vision-- oh omg mammons here telling you to come out and eat dinner! Stupid human!

Like I’m not good at horror or writing but you get I’m i'm 'gettin at? more brain vom under here!

So there’s creepy scary demons in devildom and also ones that are spooky but you sit next to em at lunch!! Succubus, incubus, demons of ice, demons of fire, demons with two heads, some with six arms…. Demons the size of houses and some the size of Luke.. some chick you passed in the hall looked really slimy but that could have just been a potion accident ..?? And more with specific powers and stuff!

Maybe I’m injecting a little too much silly fantasy Halloween cartoon special into this but like…is that not fun to think abt? HAHAE

I don’t think ALL these demons go to RAD so I bet Diavolo takes Mc with him on a trip outside of the city one day and is like “ we’ll have a lovely brunch outside with Hebulaie !!” Or something and Hebulaie is 20x TIMES DIAVOLOS' SIZE? LIKE NO WONDER WE’RE OUTISIDE!!

One of Beel’s fangol teammates has a cow head and another looked completely human until he turned around and had warthog tusks.

Brothers aren't exempt either! they're some of the most powerful demons out there. they can't seem human forever. Belphie gives me boogey man vibes, you see the outline of some darker figure at right outside your door in the dark ass hallway and it's like not moving at all. you can sorta make out features but its warped and too dark.... then it fuckin MOVES and u freak the hell out. Belphie snickers at you and hops in bed. ( i would maul him immediately )

When you're trying to sneak up the stairs the attic to figure out why you've been having dreams that wake you up in tears, you get a weird feeling and look down the stairs and are met with Lucifer staring right up at you and directly into your soul eheh.

One of Mammon's poker buddies has an arm made of gold, they can't move it or brake it off since it came from a curse of greed. They will tell you the whole story about how the object that cursed him RIGHTFULLY belongs to him!! you think that's why they're still cursed.

All demons have a few forms too, not just the regular human one with wings or tail! Leviathan probably has a sea serpent form bigger than Lotan...Asmo with a centipede like form,, so many hands and legs...ouhrhhggg

there’s demons but there’s also mythical fauna and flora!!! Like centaurs, fairies, jackalope…but also strange shit like a goat that can eject it’s organs out and you’re like “what’s the purpose of that” ‘n Satan tells you “ it’s carnivorous”…as if that explains anything!!?!?

The gay plant from the white day event that specifically goes after demon noses GHAHA i like to think some devildom florist is probably growing some of and advertising them as a fun prank gift...also the amount of harmful things that target or can be used to target humans that are in every day demon life... so fun!!

you know the weird scenarios that happen in adventure time? like the episode where this group of blank eyed girls scare the hell out of finn and jake and it's just really strange but ultimately harmless? stuff like that happens all the time in Devildom LMAO tons of weird unexplainable things happen and most the time it's like,,,okay going to move on with my day now i guess.

I just realized you said REALMS so i wanna add that the human realm isn't devoid of these things. as much as Dia, Barbs, and Luci may try there are alot of demonic things that live in the human realm. I believe the Sorcerers Society + witch covens are a big part of cover up and 'care'. I like to think that makes Solomon's and Mc's time up in the human realm very interesting, especially when Mc becomes his apprentice! Mc gives the brothers SO many gray hairs.

That's all i have right now, i hope that's what you were askin for? I'd love to hear yours and others HC's and input too!! i'm also a HC enthusiast

[wanderingmirror]

Bacta and Datapads

Summary:

Darth Vader is still trying to hold onto that little bit of Light in his heart. And because of that he gets hurt during one his master's Lessons. In this timeline, Crosshair stayed loyal but was pulled into the 501st because Vader was holding onto the good things of his past. Striker was one of the few 501st who had been with Vader ever since the start of the Clone Wars. So being with him now made no difference.

Darth Vader is injured in a mission and is forced into a bacta tank with nothing to take his mind off the past. Two very unlikely souls help fix this tiny hurt.

Being unable to hear anything was driving Vader mad. Not only that but he had none of his limbs attached to his body as he floated listlessly in the cool, thick liquid. His mind drifted off to the darker points in his life when he was similarly helpless. His mother, Ahsoka, the clones, and his beloved Padme. The war.

Obi-wan.

If he could still cry properly without the feeling of being weak or inferior, he would. But he was a Sith Lord and an Enforcer. He couldn't show that much weakness in front of so many people. Even if no one was in his chambers now, he could still sense people everywhere in his fortress on Mustafar. What he wasn't expecting was the presence of two familiar souls approaching his chambers.

He opened his eyes to peer out of the blue tinted glass when the doors opened to allow two armored individuals to inside. One was in pure white commando armor from the Clone Wars era. The other in black commando armor with a green tinted visor. Both walked up to the glass of his tank and placed one of each of their hands onto the glass. The white one looked over to the black one and said something. The black one nodded.

Their hands moved to remove their helmets from their heads and two familiar faces greeted Vader. Though his brothers had all been either killed or filtered out, Striker was still in the Empire. His hair still in that half shaved half long look. Braided at the sides with a mixture of grey and black. His left eye still a clear amber. The right a milky white from the blaster bolt that had nearly blown his head off. A light bit of stubble still covered the lower half of his tanned skin.

Crosshair still looked somewhat the same. Hair, eyes, body. The only few differences were the burn scar on the right side of his face. He gave Vader a grin that set the Sith at ease. Both of them sat their helmets and weapons on the floor and moved around the room to fiddle with different things. Slowly, sound came back to Vader. Striker turning on the sound with a scowl. Crosshair was turning off the cameras and listening devices in the room.

"Why do these idjits keep turnin his sound off? I may need to have a word with 'em about it. And not inna nice way."

Striker grumbled while walking over to the tank, sitting down at the base and taking out his personal datapad. Crosshair snorted with annoyance clear in his aura and face.

"You'd better leave some for me. It's bad enough that they left him like this without his limbs or something to occupy his time."

The enhanced clone moved the table of limbs and armor into Vader's view, settling the Sith down now that he could see his limbs. Vader was aware that he was not supposed to be this attached to a pair of clones, but no one was brave enough to comment on it. And his master seemed to not care that he's kept two of them. Both clones had gotten used to being the only two left in the entire Empire.

At the beginning of this little arrangement, Vader had to hide his worries and concern for the two commando's safety. Only to catch them viciously beating the osik out of a nat born officer no doubt giving them trouble. Neither said what the man had said, and Vader didn't bother to ask. Mostly he just transferred the man to one of the more dangerous outposts on the outer rim.

Crosshair sat down at the base of the tank beside Striker and leaned against the reg. No doubt taking this time to catch a bit of sleep for his upcoming mission involving a Sith Temple. Luckily, Vader had plans to go with him to keep the other troopers in line. And wherever Vader went, Striker followed. Whether or not Sidious wanted him to. And since Vader had killed an entire platoon's worth of officers over Striker, so long as the clone caused no distractions, Vade was allowed to keep him around.

Over the few years the two of them had been following him around, their personalities had changed somewhat. Where Striker was quiet and focused energy in the Clone Wars, he was now a little chaotic and loud. Always pulling people's attention onto him with his dark humor. The commando acted as his right hand and one of the best interrogators in the Empire.

Crosshair himself didn't really change much other than his more feral ways of dealing with nat borns and civvies. The only one who was immune to his harsh and pointed words or actions was Vader. Mostly because he understood the pain of betrayal from family and those closest in the heart.

Striker was less immune but still had some cover when it came to his own family of brothers. He missed them terribly, but often times just buried the emotions and thoughts deep in his chest until he could vent his anger through fighting or other activities.

"Hey, boss, what'd'ya say about this new prosthetic design?"

Striker held up his datapad for Vader to see and the Sith looked at the design of an arm. The material was light weight and sturdy from being made of beskar. The swirls of metal looked painted on but were made with the heat of the forge. Vader sent a wave of agreement to the clone and Striker saved the design to his pad and sent it to Vader's.

"I'll see if I can find somethin similar fer the legs too. You focus on gettin some rest 'fore the mission."

Another wave of agreement and Vader closed his eyes. Though it shocked him at first to hear the accent, it had a way of soothing his frayed nerves and settling him down into a relaxed calm he never could achieve with anything else. Even if his master disapproved strongly of his newfound source of calm, Vader was grateful for it.

The Sith could feel Crosshair already slipping into a dreamless sleep. One of the rare few he could get after the many nightmares haunting his time on Kamino. Finding out about the clone's home being bombed had cracked something in Vader. Knowing that the clones were really starting to fade away along with anything that connected to them.

The only things left of the clones were the few who had survived both the war and the slow culling from the Empire. Or the ones who had deserted early on. Only Striker and Crosshair remained as evidence that the clones existed.

Vader slowly felt the edges of his own dreamless sleep closing in around him. And as he drifted off, he felt safe knowing he was still cared about and loved enough to be kept safe. To see and be a part of their lives despite everything that had happened. Despite everything Vader had done.

And for that, Vader was grateful.

[sagemoderocklee]

⭐star⭐ for Gate Of Dreaming? although i have absolutely loved RTS to pieces that is by far my favourite fic from you overall, and i'd love to hear more about the creative aspect or your experience writing it if you're willing to share :-)

just as an aside, my favourite area was the middle section where the dream world begins to change around him and gaara, to reflect his changing feelings towards him as they became closer & he learns more about gaara. it's such a cool concept and was done incredibly well!!

ooooohhhhh i wasn't expecting to get an ask for GoD but i LOVE that fic, though i desperately need to go back and edit it (for like grammar and sentence flow, nothing major).

that fic was SUCH an experiment in writing. changing tenses is NOT easy to maintain by any means, but i really did have so much fun with that like shifting flowing aspect of the fic, and changing tenses really worked well to help indicated Lee's state of mind--when he was unaware of the dream vs when he was aware--and for the shifting nature of the scenery around them.

GoD was originally inspired by the song 100 Years by Florence+the Machine, the intro + chorus really spoke to me as like an Infinite Tsukuyomi fic:

I believe in you and in our hearts we know the truth And I believe in love and the darker it gets, the more I do Try and fill us with your hate and we will shine a light And the days will become endless and never, and never turn to night And never, and never turn to night

Then it's just too much, I cannot get you close enoughA hundred arms, a hundred years, you can always find me here And Lord, don't let it break this, let me hold it lightly Give me arms to pray with instead of ones that hold too tightly

I bolded the parts in these two sections of the song that for me speak to the fic. The Idea of the passage of time juxtaposed against this endlessness, and coupled with closeness and hands. My intent was that 100 years had passed by the time Lee and Gaara broke completely free of the dream and fought the GoD Tree. And of course, it was possible for Lee and Gaara to share their dreamscapes because Lee--being someone who we know can and does fight in his sleep--broke through his own cocoon into Gaara's, and once the physical connection was made--holding hands--they were bound up in each other's world. And of course, the slow progression of falling in love with Gaara over the course of 100 years, the dream!Gaara that Lee was never truly making love to, etc really encapsulates the line "i cannot get you close enough"

i also pulled imagery from the second chorus verse:

And then it's just too much, the streets, they still run with blood

the redness of the moon/the eye for the jutsu was fun to play around with as a visual

finally, this part of the song is really the progression for Gaara falling in love with Lee without the audience truly being aware or Lee or the God Tree:

I let him sleep, and as he does My held breath fills the room with love It hurts in ways I can't describe My heart bends and breaks so many, many times And is born again with each sunrise And is born again with each sunrise

i think this part really hits the scene where Lee and Gaara are getting married in Suna, and the subsequent 'honeymoon' where Gaara is desperately trying to break Lee out of this dream of them making love. he gives up (i let him sleep) and in doing so is hurt over and over, but it's ongoing (And is born again with each sunrise) and eventually he has to break lee out of it.

i really love florence+the machine songs as inspo because all her lyrics are SOOOO poetic and they tell SUCH a story and it is incredibly easy to hit the beats of the song in a story in an organic way.

and as a final note: i loved writing the scene with Lee like playing a made up homemovie of them as kids being friends. that was such a fun, self-indulgent little moment, and it worked really well to subtly shift the feelings Lee had for Gaara and show the God Tree what was truly in Lee's heart (because even he didn't know, repressed man that he is). the way this story flowed together was so fun and i think because it was a dream world it also just let me play around with things in such a fun way, like inserting them playing as kids

anyways i hope this answer was fun for you to read! thank you so much for sending it! im absolutely so happy i got to talk about GoD for a bit! i know a lot of folks really love that fic, and i'm always so happy when an older fic gets that attention!

[adarkermiserablecrow]

I posted 144 times in 2022

That's 144 more posts than 2021!

37 posts created (26%)

107 posts reblogged (74%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@droptheguillotineplease

@nasnyys

@modernsuperhero

@delilah-briarwood

@spectrum-color

I tagged 66 of my posts in 2022

#stormlight archive - 8 posts

#a darker shade of magic - 7 posts

#a conjuring of light - 5 posts

#shades of magic - 5 posts

#our flag means death - 5 posts

#adsom - 4 posts

#a gathering of shadows - 4 posts

#stormlight archive spoilers - 4 posts

#warbreaker - 4 posts

#goncharov - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 87 characters

#matt murdock after getting his ass beat by the entire hell's kitchen underworld be like

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

May I also say that the moment I read the scene where Kell and Rhy hear that Alucard is coming to the Essen Tach, I fucken knew there was somethin goin on with Rhy and Alucard. Kell's reaction is just the visceral reaction if any sibling to That Ex

140 notes - Posted April 26, 2022

#4

Stede: I made Ed fall in love with me!

Izzy: You ruined a perfectly good badass is what you did! Look at him, he shaved.

144 notes - Posted April 23, 2022

#3

X files is insane to watch in the year of our lord 2022. Scully the other day said she'd modem over the report. What! Does! That! Mean! What kind of arcane language is she speaking.

Also, it's painfully obvious how pre-9/11 it is. Like, Mulder needs to catch a plane in a couple hours, and he goes interview someone, grab a bite, take a nap, and still catches the goddamn plane.

Everything about this show screams 1990s and I am in love.

428 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

#2

Dalinar rlly walked into Elhokar's room, beat his ass, terrorised the shit outta him, explained exactly how much authority Elhokar would give him, told Elhokar he loved him like a son, and ended it with 'oh btw I fucked your mom'. Truly an icon

436 notes - Posted November 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Friendly reminder that George Bladgen is the captain of this ship

1,344 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

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