#also ..... is the lighting somewhat better this season??????????????

[sskk-manifesto]

--

[oakgreenoak]

Something I've always found kinda interesting about Red and Green in gameverse is how they turn some of the Stock Shōnen Protagonist/Rival tropes on their heads.

This is really long character analysis of these two and various media counterparts of theirs, so I'm gonna stick it under a cut.

In some ways they fit their roles quite well - aside from the obvious colour associations, you have Red as the hero whose sense of justice is stronger than his sense of self-preservation, and you have Green as the privileged rival who cares about beating Red above all else.

But, if you look at it another way - Green's got the light spiky hair, the hot-headed and boisterous personality, the drive to Get Better And Win. He's designed to read as really open and chipper, yet snarky. Sure, he isn't dumb, but he's arrogant, and he's got something of a one-track mind; the guy finds himself in the middle of a hostage situation because he's just that hellbent on fighting his rival, and does not seem to be thinking about anything else. He's also got a motivation - given how the Professor talks to him in the championship room and supplementary material like his Generations appearance, it's not a stretch to think the reason he's so driven to Get Better And Win is to prove himself to his grandfather. It's shown in later games and supplementary works that he's become somewhat of a mentor as he got older and wiser.

Red, on the other hand, is a quiet loner whose only motivation seems to be to get stronger for the sake of getting stronger. He's level-headed and dark haired, his cap rounding off his edges and obscuring his face. He's heroic, but not really sociable, as evidenced by the fact he spends the Johto games alone on a mountain without having told anyone where he went. He seems isolated in a way that later games' protagonists really don't. He may have always been a step behind Green, but he's always better.

Equally fascinating to me is how other adaptations have changed the base designs around and rewritten personalities to suit different purposes, while still being visually recognisable as counterparts to their game-selves.

For example: Red and Green's counterparts in Special slot WAY more neatly into their stock shōnen roles, with Red as the boisterous hero and Green as the broody rival, and it's reflected in their new designs.

Red's hair becomes spiky to reflect his more excitable nature. His hat, in turn, never obscures his face; it's always either tilted back to accommodate his fringe or turned backwards. Green's hair, on the other hand, is not quite as spiked upwards and instead falls into his face, frequently obscuring his far eye in the same way game!Red's hat does.

And then, of course, the anime balanced them in a totally different direction.

Instead of scrapping Green's personality wholecloth, it's become exaggerated in Gary. He's not the broody antihero rival, he's the arrogant, privileged, better-than-you rival. He's always ten steps ahead of Ash, always pisses him off, and is ALWAYS better until the end of his run. The anime also emphasises his intelligence far more, with him doing things like rattling off dex info and the speed of light in mph off the top of his head, to further contrast him with Ash.

Ash, who is of course THE shōnen protagonist. He's dumb, but determined, and always ready to help people in need. Unlike game!Red, the power of friendship (with more than just pokémon) is central to him; any given season of the show is defined as much if not moreso by his travelling companions and interpersonal relationships as it is by whatever he's actually doing.

It's funny to me, though, how most adaptations seem to find the fact that gameverse Red and Green have swapped some stock roles as something to fix. Even Origins, which is probably the closest a high-profile adaption has come to game-accurate, made its version of Red louder and more standard-hero-esque.

I'm not knocking any of these things, of course, just observing. I adore both Special and anipoke. I just think that the way the game characters are written could lead to some interesting dynamics were it to be explored more.

[abysstrap-ran]

❖ Piltover Winters (Jayce/Viktor Headcanons)

A/N: I realize I always come back to writing around xmas. Erm, anyway. Have you guys seen Savior Viktor??? Delicious. *I don’t actually know if it snows in PnZ but it’s December so let’s live a little.

❖ Viktor

If you're cold, chances are he's freezing too because of how cold he usually runs.

Will forget his scarf. Sometimes, in his work-induced haze, he also forgets that he's not dressed for the weather and walks out of the lab only to get blasted in the face by the sheer COLD, grumbling and sniffling as he retreats back inside. Hence, he appreciates the heater and the fireplace in his academy-funded apartment very much.

While he might not be the biggest fan of the winter chill, he’s amazed by snow since it never reaches the part of the Undercity where he grew up.

Give Viktor a cup of hot chocolate, and his eyes will light up. He won’t admit it, and very few know about it, but much like his love for sweetmilk, he is very much a fan of hot chocolate. However, he doesn’t opt for it too often because its sweetness will irritate his throat, so he takes it every once in a while. He’ll be in a good mood the whole day if he does get a cup, something that Jayce capitalizes on if only to see him smile.

This man can not get up in the mornings, preferring to burrow deeper into the blankets or closer to a heat source where it's warm and toasty. You’ll have to drag him out or coax him out with a cup of hot beverage.

His body does him no favors in this department. The ever-bearing cold makes his joints ache worse, so it’s safe to say that his leg does not like him very much.

Once he gets the back brace, the screws permanently etched onto his spine will hurt, especially in the deep of winter. He’s gotten used to it to a degree, but sometimes it renders him somewhat immobile. It is also hard to navigate through snow with a crutch. This is why you’ll almost never find him outside during the winter months, though that hasn’t changed much from the past. Even if he has to go outside for some godforsaken reason, he’ll make them short and snappy trips at best, or send Jayce, who would be more than happy to do so, in his place.

❖ Jayce

Snow is not his forte, considering how he nearly died in a blizzard as a child. But, it has grown on him slowly over time. Though, you won’t find him outside when the snowfall turns heavy.

He may not show it, but he loves the seasonal festivities. He fondly remembers hitting the attractions and festivals with Caitlyn back when they were both younger, and would sometimes do the same again, if only for the nostalgic factor.

The man of progress might be busy, but Jayce the present-giver works doubly hard. You may barely see him out of his lab, but he’ll make the time, sometimes out of thin air, to get everyone presents.

Coat? What is a coat? This guy’s a furnace, he’s fine (not really) but he will claim he’s fine if you ask. Will happily let anyone he's close to cling to him for his warmth, or laugh and give them his scarf so now they're like a two-scarf coat rack. Paints a rather funny picture to be bundled up in an abundance of scarves.

Probably has to participate in a lot of winter social events due to the council. Dutiful as he is, Jayce will attend those societal gatherings, but you bet he'd whine the next person's ear off by the time he's dragged to his mandatory 3rd dinner/gala or something similar along those lines. Sometimes, if he gets bored, he sneaks back to the lab when no one's noticing… until Heimerdinger pops up when he least expects it. “There's a time and place for innovation, my boy! But tonight's a night for the outdoors, don't you think?”

Will oftentimes be the first one up in the mornings because he knows he has a packed schedule and he'd better get up or else. When he doesn't get up due to it being a lazier day, he'll hog ALL the blankets, curling into a ball and going back for another snooze, much to your chagrin.

[khaylin27]

So Long, London

pairing: carlos sainz x norris reader; lando norris x sister reader; a teaser of oscar piastri x reader hehe

series: the tortured poets department

synopsis: when carlos joined mclaren, it was easy for y/n norris to fall in love with him. throughout 2020 to 2023 y/n norris could see that carlos was drifting away from her. this could be due to carlos' suggested depression after leaving mclaren to go to ferrari, him being unready for marriage, and his infidelity towards in their relationship.

warnings: infidelity; depression; mentions of sex; one sided relationship; also let’s pretend charles was with alexandra in 2021 to now

author's note: this is literally my favorite song from the album. it describes a time in my life where i put so much into a relationship but they kept drifting away. hope you guys like it 🥹

2020

I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away

It was so easy to love and be in a relationship with your brother's team mate, Carlos Sainz. But once the pandemic hit, you saw the spark of your relationship fade slowly.

"No quiero estar en McLaren más hermosa." I don't want to be in McLaren anymore beautiful. Carlos tells you as he shows you the contract Ferrari sent him for 2021 to 2023.

During the pandemic, you and Carlos were sharing an apartment together in London. He would teach you Spanish so that he can speak to you in his native language. "I thought you loved being in McLaren babe? What would my brother say if you leave?"

"There's no 'if' hermosa. I don't care what your brother says because he was on board with Zack on putting Daniel in my seat for next year." Carlos says angry because you brought up your brother. They've had a great relationship throughout the 2019 to 2020 seasons, but once Lando sided with Zach on putting Daniel in Carlos' seat their friendship tore apart. "My decision is final. I'm going to Ferrari whether anyone likes it or not."

You kept calm and walked to where Carlos was to give him a tight hug. "If it makes you happy babe, I'm with you on this one." He didn't hug you back the same way you hugged him.

You didn't know it at the time but this was the first sign that Carlos was drifting away.

2021

My spine split from carrying us up the hill Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill I stopped trying to make him laugh Stopped trying to drill the safe

Once the 2021 F1 season started and covid regulations lifted, you thought your relationship would get better since Carlos joined Ferrari but it didn't. Ferrari kept him busy with back to back events that you weren't invited to because of your connection with McLaren.

When Carlos would come home from these events, drunk and not mentally there. You knew he would drink himself away due to the depression he was going through after leaving McLaren. You would try to keep the relationship alive by having sex with him. Even though it did keep your sexual relationship somewhat alive, it felt like your spine was going to split from carrying your relationship alive.

Ferrari did invite you to an event after you complained to Alexandra (let's pretend Charles was with her during this time) one time during a Grand Prix weekend. It was a different atmosphere than what you were used to at McLaren. You felt wet through your clothes and chill through your weary bones during the event.

You and Carlos were sitting in a booth with Charles and Alexandra. You smiled at Charles and Alexandra's interactions together. She would always make Charles laugh and it made you miss when you used to do that with Carlos. Making Carlos laugh made it feel safe in your relationship with him, but not anymore.

I didn't opt in to be your odd man out I founded the club she's heard great things about I left all I knew, you left me at the house by the Heath

The event that Ferrari was hosting was in a club in Monaco. Carlos left your booth to get a 'drink' while you were talking with Alexandra and Charles.

"So Y/N how do you like the event?" Charles yells through the loud music.

"It's okay I guess. It's different than McLaren events." You say uncomfortable. McLaren was like home to you, they were family. You left all that to be with Carlos and follow his dreams. Yet you both aren’t happy with leaving McLaren.

Alexandra can tell that you were uncomfortable with the question. "Why don't we go to the bar Y/N?" You nod at her question as she takes your hand to walk together to the bar.

Once you arrive at the bar, Alexandra orders drinks for both of you but you hear something that was interesting. "Girl, I just had the best sex with that one Ferrari driver."

It was two girls that got invited to do press for this event. The other girl asks "Oh my god. Which one?"

"The Spanish one! Let me tell you, he's very good with his hands." You start tearing up as she continues to explain what your boyfriend did to her. It was things that he never did to you. "He told me that he hasn't had sex like that in months."

Alexandra looks at you with the drinks in her hands. She notices the tears going down your face and ruining your makeup. "Y/N are you okay?"

"No, I'm not." You say politely as you wipe your tears. "Is it possible for you to call an uber for me? I want to go home."

Alexandra nods and goes on her phone to reserve you an uber. While she was doing that you were breaking down crying on the bar counter.

I stopped CPR, after all it's no use The spirit was gone, we would never come to And I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free

Hours after you got home from the event by yourself, Carlos comes home late. Usually you would have sex as soon as he got home to keep your relationship alive, but it's no use. Why would you put so much into him if the spirit he had for you was gone?

"Hermosa, beautiful can we have sex?" He asks drunkenly while your body was turned away from him. "Por favor." please

"No Carlos." You say as you try to go back to sleep.

"Why not hermosa? beautiful You looked so pretty in that dress you wore?" He peppers your arm and back with kisses trying to get you in the mood for sex.

"Carlos stop. I'm pissed off at you right now." You sit up and look at him. You can tell he was drunk because he didn't care that you were crying. "I'm pissed off that I spent so much of my youth on you. We left the only place that we were happy at thinking it was better for you but it wasn’t. Only for you to hookup with a whore at an event while I was there. What happens when I’m not there? Is that why Ferrari doesn’t invite me to anything??"

"I'm sorry hermosa. beautiful It’s just been emotionally draining after the past couple of months." He hugs you.

"I know it's been but you're not helping if you keep doing this." As you wipe your tears you then add. "I thought this move would be better for both of us. Remember how we dreamed of getting married and starting a family?"

"That's not my dream Y/N, that's your dream. My dream is to be World Champion and I won't let any distractions get in my way." It was like a slap in the face when Carlos told you this. All your life you've always wanted a husband and to start a family. You thought it would be with Carlos but it would be a 'distraction in getting World Champion.'

"Goodnight hermosa beautiful Te amo I love you" he says as he hugs you and falls asleep.

And you say I abandoned the ship But I was going down with it My white knuckle dying grip Holding tight to your quiet resentment 

Ever since the night of the Ferrari event, you haven’t been to any Ferrari events or even to the Ferrari garages. Instead you’ve been hanging out with your brother in the McLaren garage.

It was 2021 of the Russian Grand Prix, Lando had spun and grazed the wall on one of his laps that caused him to not win the Russian Grand Prix.

Once Lando gets back into the garage and gets out of his car, you can see the tears in his eyes. “It’s okay little bro.” He pulls you into a tight. You knew that this was race was emotionally draining on him.

“If I just pitted and changed my tires I would’ve won.” He continues to cry.

“There’s nothing you could’ve done Lan. I just thank god you’re okay and nothing happened to you.” You hug him tighter.

“Thank you for being here Y/N.” He says as he pulls away from hugging you. As you both wipe your tears, he looks at the screen and sees Carlos on the podium. “You should go and be with Carlos. At least get to celebrate with him.”

“It’s okay. I’ll wait until he’s done to celebrate with him.” You give him a fake smile in hopes that he doesn’t see that you’re faking it.

Little did you know, you weren’t going to be celebrating with Carlos tonight.

“Why the hell weren’t you with me celebrating my win?” Carlos yells at you while you’re sitting on the couch just staring at him.

“Didn’t think you needed me since that whore was wrapped around you.” You saw the photos that F1 gossip accounts were posting on Twitter.

Carlos looks at you with frustration. “I’m sorry hermosa beautiful but I needed to let off the excitement .” You role your eyes at his response.

“‘Let off the excitement’ you have a girlfriend at home waiting for you.” You explain to him.

“Well you should’ve been around me instead of that girl.” He says putting the blame back on you.

“I was taking care of my brother. Your best friend that could’ve won today but didn’t. At least try to comfort your best friend instead of having whores going around you.”

“I swear ever since that night, you’ve just abandoned me and everything we’ve built.”

You laugh at what Carlos says, “you’re saying I’ve abandoned you and everything we’ve built. Oh honey, I’m just going down with it.”

Your knuckles are turning white as you’re clenching the pillow so you don’t cry in front of this man. “I’m leaving to London to be with Lando. Fix whatever is going on with you to fix this relationship.” You knew deep down that Carlos resented you for what you said that night.

My friends said it isn't right to be scared Every day of a love affair Every breath feels like rarest air When you're not sure if he wants to be there

Once your plane landed in London, Lando was waiting for you at the arrival terminal. After you got your bags and got in his car you explained to him what’s been going on with Carlos for the past two years after he left McLaren.

“That’s not healthy Y/N and you’ve been going through this for two years now?” Lando asks you and you just nod in silence.

“It feels like every day is a love affair. Every breath I took around him feels like rarest air.” You try so hard not to cry in front of your little brother right now but the tears keep pouring. “I’m not even sure if he wants to be in this relationship. It broke my heart when he said he didn't want to get married or start a family because it would be a 'distraction'”

Lando hugs you and more tears start pouring out. “It’s okay Y/N. You don’t always have to be strong for me.”

“I know, but you guys were very close and I don’t want to ruin your friendship with him.” You explain the reason why you didn’t tell him for so long.

“Whether we’re friends or not, he shouldn’t make you feel like that. It isn’t right to be scared in a relationship.” You hug him tighter as the tears keep pouring down.

“I know, but I love him.”

2022

You swore that you loved me but where were the clues? I died on the altar waiting for the proof You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days

After months of you living in London with Lando, Carlos was desperate to have you back. During the 2022 season, you decided to go back with Carlos only if Carlos marries you. Carlos agreed and you both started planning the wedding.

You two decided to plan the wedding in Spain at the end of July during the mandatory summer break. The wedding was going to be beautiful. All of your family, friends, and colleagues would be invited to the big wedding. Sadly, you wouldn't be getting married.

As you're walking down the aisle with your father, you look ahead and see that Carlos wasn't standing at the alter. "Where is Carlos?" Your father asks Carlos Sr. and Reyes, Carlos' parents.

You look at Lando, who was Carlos' best man. "Lando please be honest with me. Where is Carlos?"

"He needed to talk to his cousin, just pre wedding jitters I think." He smiles at you trying to make you feel okay but deep down you knew.

"Carlos is not coming back." Caco, Carlos' cousin comes up to you and the family.

"¿Qué quieres decir con que no volverá? what do you mean he's not coming back" Carlos Senior asks his nephew.

"I tried to keep him here but he wanted to leave." Caco looks at you with sad eyes. "Carlos told me to give you this." It was a note that Carlos hand wrote for you.

To Y/N,

I'm sorry for leaving you on the altar waiting for me. I couldn't get married and get distracted from the dreams I truly wanted. I wish I could do this in a better way and not put you through so much pain. So long Y/N, we had a good run. I know I'm not the one for you hermosa beautiful.

Love, Carlos

You breakdown once you finish reading his note. He 'loved' you but where was the clues? He left you on the altar waiting for the proof. He sacrificed your relationship and the dreams you wanted to achieve together so that he could be World Champion.

2023

And I'm just getting color back into my face I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place

It took you awhile to start coming back to the races again. Every time you would think about going to a race to support your brother, all you could think about is Carlos. You loved the races but it made you mad as hell cause you loved Carlos.

Lando invited you to the Las Vegas Grand Prix to celebrate his birthday and to watch him race. At Lando's birthday party, you met his new teammate Oscar Piastri. "Oscar this is my sister, Y/N." Lando introduces Oscar to you before he leaves to dj again.

"Hello Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard great things about you from Lando." He smiles at you.

"Oh really? What did he say?" Now you were intrigued about what Lando says about you behind your back.

"For one, he didn't tell me that you were so beautiful." You blush at Oscar's compliment. "But he does tell me how much he misses you being around the paddock. He says you're like the 'warm sun' whenever you're around."

"I know I've been absent in paddock due to what happened last year." You take a sip of alcohol after bringing up your failed wedding. "But I'm back where I've always belonged. McLaren was and will always be family." You say as you smile at Lando and Zack being dj together.

"Well I'm glad you're back and I can't wait to get to know you better." Oscar gets two shots from the bartender and gives you one. He smiles at you and says, "Cheers to new beginnings."

"Yeah. Cheers to new beginnings."

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Could you write for Daemon targaryen like currently after all those nightmares in harnehal he finds a prisoner of harnehal as the only person who brings him peace him falling in love with her and trying to be better person he still fights for team black obviously rahaenya is definitely not happy with these arrangements especially seeing him all dedicated all in love some things he never have done for her but she have no option currently rather accepting his second wife though at the end when team black would be winning and fight at harnehal like aemond Vs Daemon she ask for reader's head happy ending at the end please or anything you wanna write I just wanna see Daemon happy in love at end please

Finally I have time for my hobbies again! Sorry I left you waiting for ages, this term the exam season was tougher than what I have been accustomed to… Anyways, I have started writing some stuff and I wanted to post the intro instead of writing a full-length chapter 1 since it would have taken a couple more days (:

As a side note, I honestly have no idea where this story will be headed because I have no clear course planned, I had some little ideas and I just started writing them. Also I will be introducing stuff which is not in the asoiaf universe.

I am continuing to read Silmarillion from where I left off and let’s say the ideas about Daemon’s love interest are… inspired from what I have been reading (; Enjoy!

Memento Mori

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: strong language, I am not a native English speaker, reader is (or will be) described with long hair

This is a very short introduction! Also the chapter is from Daemon’s pov. The title is inspired by Memento Mori by Lamb of God (the song has been a great inspiration for the story so far)

The dungeons of Harrenhal were cold, wet and lonely.

He had no idea when, how and why he had gone down there – one moment, he was in his chambers and the next, he was opening his eyes to the mossy stone walls of the dark dungeons with a torch in his hand. The line between dreams and reality was becoming thinner each day he spent in this cursed castle.

As Daemon walked past the empty cells, he tried to shake off this unsettling feeling lingering around him, dancing on his neck on its tippy toes, making him wonder whether he was indeed alone.

I doubt Simon Strong keeps prisoners down here, he thought while wiping the water from his forehead which was dripping from the broken ceiling. Maybe he has decided to lock up the witch?

Just when the Rogue Prince – correction, the King Consort – was about to turn back and leave the depressing, humid and somewhat eerie atmosphere of the dungeons behind, a soft humming reached his ears.

A soft, sweet humming of a song coming from one of the cells at the very end of the darkness.

“What kind of prisoner is Simon Strong hiding here?” Daemon asked, his voice created echoes as he waved the torch in front of him, trying to cast some light.

The humming stopped immediately, as if the sound itself was cut by a knife.

Daemon’s purple eyes widened upon seeing that the last cell was indeed not empty.

There was a young woman inside, looking at him with her eyes full of curiosity. Her hair had an unearthly shine under the dim moonlight. She tilted her head to the side. “You can see me?” She asked, it was the same soft voice from a moment ago, though the sweetness was no longer there to be felt.

Daemon raised an eyebrow at her direction. “Do people not see you?”

The young woman shook her head, her movements – no matter how simple they were – felt almost too harmonious. “Not normally, it is not intended that I am seen.” Stopping for a moment, she eyed Daemon from head to foot. “You are not really here, are you?”

The raised eyebrow quickly turned into a frown. “What do you mean? I am standing in front of you.”

She shook her head once again. As her soft whisper filled his eyes, Daemon started falling into the nothingness, again, for the unknown-th time ever since he had come to Harrenhal.

“Wake up.”

***

When he woke up, trying to catch his breath, Daemon found himself lying on his bed, as always. Anytime he had one of those weird dreams – he wasn’t even sure if he should call them dreams anymore – his consciousness would find its way back to his bed.

Unless he was daydreaming, which were considerably the worse.

“Who the fuck was that weird woman?” Daemon muttered to himself as he stood up, dressing up in his regular robes. The feeling in his stomach was telling him that he had to go down there, to the dungeons, to find that woman. If he were to wait until dawn, he feared she might be gone.

What was it that she said again? It is not intended she is seen?

Leaving his chambers with a torch in his right hand, Daemon shook his head to the thoughts flowing through his mind, causing his silver hair to move. “Weird woman,” he muttered to himself as he walked through the dark corridors of the castle with haste. “She somehow reminds me of the witch.”

The dungeons were as dark and wet as he remembered from the dream. A cold wind was wandering besides him, kissing the mossy walls and licking Daemon’s skin, sometimes whispering wicked words in his ears. Even the wind was odd here, in Harrenhal, but he had somewhat got used to it – hearing its eerie whispers whenever he walked alone during the hour of the wolf.

“Show yourself,” Daemon spoke with a strong voice which created echoes as he stood in front of that very cell from his dream. “Your king commands it!”

“Huh, king?” The same soft voice answered from the dark corner of her cell. The moonlight had left its shining spot, leaving the torch in Daemon’s hands as the only source of light in this entire corridor of the dungeons. “I answer to no king.”

A condescending scoff left Daemon’s lips as he came closer to the bars made of steel, separating him and the weird woman. “You do live in Westros, do you not?” Daemon asked, not really waiting for an answer. “As long as you breathe in this land, you do answer to the King.”

A chuckle came from the darkness. “I have been breathing in this land before your ancestors flew across the Narrow Sea, Daemon Targaryen.”

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina @sadmonke @avalyaaa

[squirrellypoo]

I sewed a Wolfkiller Cloak!

I have been a fan of Lestat's Wolfkiller Cloak for 30 years(!!) so when it made a surprise appearance in season 2 of Interview with the Vampire I just knew I would be sewing one for myself.

It looks incredible in the show, but then we also got to see more of it in better lighting during the short, behind the scenes "Episode Insider" for the episode. Essentially, this is a calf-length, blood-red velvet cape with an additional, elbow-length capelet on top, and a fur-lined hood.

But having made capes in the past, I realised that they are really impractical to wear due to limited arm mobility and having either your arms or body freeze through the openings.

So instead of sewing exactly what I saw on screen, I realised I could instead sew a swing coat + little capelet on top with fur-lined hood! And even better - make the capelet removable via hooks at the neckline so that they could be worn together or separately. This was a Eureka! moment for me. I wanted to make something that is somewhat authentic to the look of the original, but also practical to wear as an every day winter coat!

After quite a few muslins, I settled on the Charm Patterns Swing Coat (with some modified sleeves), and a self-drafted capelet (similar to my earlier cape from Claudia S1 NYE look) with a fur-lined hood. I drafted the hood pieces so that the fur lining is longer and wraps around the opening edge. This makes the fur more visible when its down around the shoulders, as in the show.

I used 5m of burgundy velvet and 0.5 m of Arctic Grey Wolf faux fur from CRS Fabrics (UK) - the fur itself was £60/m(!!) so I'm extremely pleased the show version wasn't entirely lined in fur like the book description (scroll down for more on that!). I underlined it for warmth using cotton flannel to block the wind, and found an incredible dark grey skull jacquard lining fabric at Mood Fabrics (US).

The swing coat pattern only has one button at the neck, so I made it count! I found the most perfect wolf head button on ebay and adjusted my bound buttonhole accordingly, but it really is the best statement button I could've ever asked for! The rest of the front opening is closed with enamel hooks and hidden thread bars to not distract from the clean lines when worn open.

In all, this took me about 6 weeks to sew and I am SO chuffed with how it turned out. I usually only take daytime photos for my sewing in order to best show off the details and seamlines, but for this I couldn't resist an additional nighttime shoot, too.

Even better - after I posted it to Instagram, the costume designer for the show, Carol Cutshall, not only said she loves it, but revealed a new piece of iwtv lore - they originally tried the cloak entirely lined in fur, but it was too heavy for Sam to move in!! (Which I can totally believe because mine is super heavy even with a lightweight lining!)

[bingiessm]

WARNING, LONG POST

Hello, welcome to the Bridgerton Season 3 trailer over-analysis corner. I am bingiessm--a film student that needs an outlet right now and wants to practice some film analysis--and am here to bring forth the FIRE/FLAME/CANDLE motif that was all over this trailer and I feel will be a HUGE motif throughout this season for Penelope and Colin (Polin).

So within the Polin context, let's look at each shot where a flame of a candle or lack thereof could represent their romantic interest in one another--and in particular the understanding/recognition of it.

This show is going all out putting candles EVERYWHERE--yes it was actual lighting in regency era, but you don't have to have it in the shot. That is a CHOICE. Also a choice to have it lit or not.

Also, "I burn for you" anyone?

FIRST SHOT: somewhat obvious but considering the context of both the mirror as well as other future shots within this trailer, this flame represents the feelings Penelope has for Colin, that she is well aware of and has held for a long while.

I also just have an inkling that she is seeing herself differently in this moment (feeling something for the first time possibly)--the way Nicola looks feels shocked/contemplative, but not scared as if it might be Whistledown-related.

SECOND SHOT: they are outside, talking about Penelope being a "lost cause." WHY IS THERE AN UNLIT CANDLE IN A MARKET STALL, if not to represent some unrealized feelings on Colin's part? It is also on his side of the frame. This is similar to this next one, both of which I believe are earlier in the season, as this is the start of him "helping" her.

THIRD SHOT: Once again, right there on Colin's side of the frame, YOU DID NOT NEED THIS IN THE FOREGROUND. It was a CHOICE to put a candle there again. They could have not had it, yes the shot would have had less depth and this does give a better sense of the space, placing them in a corner of the room instead of in an open space--but they didn't need to make it another CANDLE.

Colin has not fully recognized his feelings for Penelope yet, though they have always been there, and these two shots demonstrate that lack of understanding/feeling, but one that is soon to come with an unlit candle.

FOURTH SHOT: this, in the timing of the trailer, does come before the third, but RIGHT THERE IS A MIRROR AND CANDLES. It is on Penelope's side of the frame, but Colin, the mirror, and candles are what is in focus. She might be center frame, but we are drawn to the light as well as the contrast in Colin's outfit. This could arguably be Penelope's perspective, her burning feelings as he compliments her--also her future (we all want that mirror scene).

FIFTH SHOT: a HUGE TURNING POINT--a small flame, barely noticeable suddenly burning brighter as we focus on Colin in the background. This is so clearly him realizing his feelings for Penelope. It is also at the midpoint/turning point of the trailer when there is a big tonal shift. There is no more talk of Colin helping Penelope, but a larger focus on his perspective of her (all the gazing), the idea of romance, as well as mention of Debling--his rival. It will be a turning point for Colin when Debling--an actual suitor vying for Penelope's hand--comes into the picture. EDIT: Also going to add in, the candle is in a lantern--though that might have been easier to manage filming-wise--which could also represent him still holding back, especially with Debling in the picture.

SIXTH SHOT: This comes right after we hear Debling say "You look especially beautiful tonight, Miss Featherington." One of the many examples of Colin staring at the two of them, being jealous/worried. But right behind him? Oh, more candles. That they totally didn't need to have in the frame. Also, it doesn't look so much like a candle, but they are placed so close to one another that it looks like more of a flame. The lack of focus adds to this.

THEN WE GET TO THIS FINAL SEQUENCE--which imo is a FANTASY SEQUENCE

SEVENTH SHOT: Colin is coming from the darkness, with an unseen flame flickering directly behind him (small ember that he can't see).

EIGHTH SHOT: Penelope, also coming out of the dark, but with another flame on (what in this sequence is) her side of the frame. Though it is somewhat hidden behind these bars--some rough patches/guarded emotions? (probably depends on what point this is in the series).

NINTH SHOT: Penelope, already in the light of these fires, Colin entering with the large burning flame in the background covered by some growth.

TENTH SHOT: Penelope, lit by these fires, breathing heavily. A very clear close-up with so much blur to focus just on her face.

ELEVENTH SHOT: Colin, with a flickering/burning flame literally right behind him, lit by these other fires, staring right at Penelope.

So this whole sequence, in my opinion, is a dream sequence. But, in terms of this flame representation, this is Colin realizing he has feelings for Penelope. We see the flickering from the unseen light behind him in the seventh shot build and become the flame right behind him in the eleventh. It feels so obviously representative of the season. (The fog also seems to lift for him in this sequence, he comes out of the fog to Penelope--I could say more about this sequence and why I do think it is Colin's dream, mostly due to costuming and lighting and the fog as well) ______________________

And thus comes to a close my analysis/evidence of the FLAME/FIRE motif between Polin. I am cutting myself off here because this is a lot and I have an actual film shoot to plan. Thank you if you actually read all this. I love film analysis and Bridgerton is so fun and a stress reliever for me, so this was fun for me to write out.

Anyway, if any more of this fire/flame stuff comes up I might add on later.

TLDR: they are using fire and candles to represent the burning love between these two.

[belovedivies]

the ending season (soft! makima x f!reader)

summary: In your shared bedroom one early rainy morning, Makima reflected on her feelings for you.

tags: fluff, possessive behaviors, soft makima, implied sexual content, implied breeding kink, dom makima, established relationship, minor character study, minor spoiler for makima's character (??), violent thoughts (cuz it's makima :3), one shot.

word count: 1,321 title is inspired by a mamerico song called kirari futari <3 also cross-posted on my ao3.

For all centuries of her existence, Makima was far from perfection.

She's not the strongest devil. She's still at beck and call of Japan's government. Even in a rare moment where her carefully crafted façade slipped by just a fraction to reveal a lonely, love-starved woman behind it all... that disgusted her too.

Makima had many pets. Human, to be exact, though none of their rights or feelings mattered the second she wrapped a collar around their necks and put them on a leash. Promises of sweet rewards were never fulfilled; none of them ever made it out alive at the end anyway. The redhead grew bored of her man playthings as time passed, so she spiced things up for her enjoyment by adding a girl to the mix.

A girl who happened to be you.

And for centuries of her existence, never once had Makima thought you would have this much effect on her. The way you walked, the way you talked, the way you carried yourself. All laced with incredible warmth and gentleness—feelings that she thought a monster like her wasn’t privy to. Yet, at this moment, lying underneath the soft blanket with you curled up on her chest as a storm rages outside the window, some part of Makima grappled with this strange fuzzy feeling inside her long-dead heart.

The almighty Control Devil couldn't be soft; her so-called benevolence towards humanity didn't extend that direction. Makima played her part well for many years, being the compliant subordinate whom the higher-ups called for and the unfeeling leader whose presence most devil hunters deliberately avoided. Then why? Why did it only take for one simple girl to—

"Makima..."

You stirred in your sleep and the redhead's train of thoughts came to an abrupt halt.

Outside, lightning flashes, thunder crashing loud enough to shake the windows. Your place was small and cozy, but ultimately not a very ideal home for the upcoming stormy September. Makima made a mental note to contact the movers soon—you'd be better off at her villa, with her by your side.

(Where we both belonged.)

Possessiveness was a part of the woman's nature, a selfish desire to obtain what was rightfully hers. She knew this well during her intense search for Chainsaw Man. Lies, manipulation, and violence became somewhat of a routine she wouldn't shake off.

She couldn't.

But she wanted to, for you.

Makima looked at you. Like really, really looked at you and took in everything. In the near pitch blackness of your bedroom with the faint, flicking lamp on the nightstand as the only source of light, you were all she saw. You and your messy bedhead, with little locks of hair that spread out over the pillow like a halo. You and that little bit of drool that was pooling at the corner of your mouth. Your breath, so shallow it was also non-existent with the storm raging in the background. Vulnerability never looked so good on anyone as it did you.

You were warm, you were perfect. She wanted to kill you sometimes.

You were lying two centimeters away from the redhead at most, so what's stopping her from reaching over and wrapping her hands around your neck? Human was a fragile kind with an even more fragile lifespan. No matter how much they tried to squeal with grand, over-the-top gestures, it wouldn't change the fact that they were just... that. A forgettable and insignificant existence in the scheme of things. 

Her hands shifted underneath the blanket from where they were resting over the curve of your waist.

You were really warm.

And suddenly, she didn't want to move a single muscle anymore.

(This could wait until tomorrow.)

She said that yesterday too. And the day before that, and before that, and way before she could be bothered to recall. You were a threat to her authority from the day Makima let you stay in her bed and embrace her a second longer. Maybe she only had herself to blame for letting her guard down and allowing things to go this far. It’s not just a bad movie that the Control Devil could simply turn off and walk away from. No, you were now a constant presence in her life. A presence she didn’t want to get rid of. Why, she asked herself again.

Maybe it’s because you’re cute, and definitely too naive for your own good. Makima was amused at the number of times she walked home, covered in blood and you would still run up to the door to kiss her cheek and tell her dinner was ready. There’s a warm bath too, and that tiramisu she liked so much for dessert. You added a small twist of cinnamon to her recipe; she didn’t dislike it. 

A silly girl, but a good girl nonetheless. 

Her good girl.

Makima’s arms tightened themselves around your waist at the thought. Not quite pushing you closer, just… securing her hold on you. This blanket wasn’t thick enough, and the cold might make you squirm away from her touch. Or just her in general.

After all, these hands weren’t built to be gentle. 

They choked, they killed, they settled fates, and destroyed lives in a flash. She could wash the gore off in a public bathroom later, paying no attention to the lingering stench of alcohol and cigarettes in the surroundings. Makima’s thoughts would trail back to your smiling face as she dried her hands off and readjusted her trenchcoat. She wondered if you knew about her job, her identity, and the things she had done for a better world. It was always those same adoring eyes that greeted her once she got back like she hung the moon and stars. She would catch Chainsaw Man eventually. One fight, then a lifetime of utopian. 

It would be a picture-perfect future that the woman knew you fit in just fine. 

An eternity to come with you beside her. Maybe even under, on top, in the bedroom, the kitchen, and the couch. You would moan her sweet name so sweetly as she pounded away at your sweet little cunt. Oh, she would definitely get you pregnant, heavy with her powerful children. It was a family Makima had dreamt of for so long, and she would make it a reality. Soon, when you were ready for her.

Another flash of thunder ripped through the gloomy early sky. This time, it was you who snuggled further into her chest and let out a mewl that did that weird thing to her heart. You finally woke up, it seemed. 

“Morning~” her little angel yawned with a smile, pulling away just enough as the bruising grip she still had on your waist allowed you to stretch your shoulders. It never really occurred to Makima how readily you basked in her borderline suffocating attention. “How did you sleep, my love?”

Love.

The corner of your girlfriend’s lips curled up into a half-smile. One of her hands left your midriff to bring yours to her face, pressing soft, worshipful kisses on your knuckles. Oh, she’s in love with you alright, and whatever the fuck you were doing to Makima, it was genuinely changing her life. “Best sleep I’ve ever had.”

The redhead hummed against the soft skin of your palm, nuzzling her cheek into it. You did this. You and your gentle loving melted down the walls surrounding her heart. A foreign territory that terrified just as much as it captivated Makima. But for you…

Yes, you. 

She was loved, and she wanted to learn how to love you in return. Even if the attempt was clumsy, even if her bad habits were sure to resurface and become an obstacle.

Even if she got hurt.

“Say, baby girl…” Makima’s voice dropped to a low whisper. “Since the storm doesn’t seem to let up anytime soon…

care for some breakfast in bed?” 

[vettelsvee]

YOU'RE JALEOUS | Charles Leclerc

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

charles leclerc x reader

summary: charles gets jaleous of lando when he sees him talking with his girlfriend 

wordcount: 1529

a/n: it's been a long time coming but i'm finally here! i've actually had this saved on my drafts for quite a long time BUT never posted it. however, since we got charles pole today, i thought you might like this even tough is a crap (i'm so sorry, you absolutely deserve better works) :)

you can send your one shots requests here or via anon! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

Charles and you decided to attend a party they had been invited by someone the driver didn’t even know, that took place at one of the most famous venues in Monaco. Although you initially felt intimidated because none of Leclerc's colleagues had appeared yet, as you drank a few drinks, the music seemed interesting enough for you to dance along with the twinkling lights.

To say that Leclerc was happy with his performance on the track that afternoon would be a li. His pride was immense because he had finally achieved the victory: winning not only for the first time in 2024 season, but also winning his very own home race for the first time ever. This had led to great acclaim not only from his fans but also from specialists, the press, the team, and even his colleagues, who were eagerly awaiting il predestinato's return to the victories.

In those moments, with his shiny black suit highlighting his appearance and, especially, his trained body, he felt unique, and even more so with you by his side. You were matching your partner perfectly with the dazzling dress you were wearing and that fit you perfectly.

As you enjoyed a drink in a quiet corner after a long time on the dance floor, Leclerc wrapped his arm around your waist, intending to bring you closer to his side. Your eyes met, somewhat mischievous, leading to a playful smile forming on your lips.

"Charles, you’ve been incredible in today's race," you exclaimed with excitement, proudly praising your boyfriend's talent. "I'm so proud of you."

Charles returned your smile, feeling filled with joy by your unconditional support.

"Thank you, darling. But what I'm proud of, and also lucky for, is having you in my life," he responded tenderly.

You continued chatting animatedly without an apparent topic of conversation, ranging from what would be your next holiday destination to the upcoming race, which would take place in Canada. However, when you started talking about a charity event that Charles would have the opportunity to lead, your gazes turned to a familiar figure approaching you: Lando Norris.

"Hey, Charles! Congratulations on that first place!" Norris exclaimed, excited to see his friend.

"Thanks, Lando!" the mentioned replied enthusiastically, patting the McLaren driver on the back. "You did great too. A sixth place is not what I expected from those cars, but it was truly impressive taking into account the strategy they had for you."

"Stop talking about McLaren when you know we can talk about Ferrari," Norris joked.

You observed the interaction between the two drivers with a mix of pride and curiosity. At first, you decide to give space to both guys, letting them freely discuss the day's events without the attentive gaze of a girl. However, when you finished checking your social media and posted a few Instagram stories with photos you took that morning, you decided to join the conversation.

"Lando, have you forgotten about me?" you teased. "I'm still in shock from today's race. It was a real spectacle."

"Thanks, Y/N!" He stopped looking at you and instead turned to his friend. "What do you think if we celebrate our incredible, but true, achievements together now? No one else is coming, and I talked to Carlos earlier!"

You looked at Charles, seeking his approval. He, a bit tipsy, nodded with a smile.

"I had other plans in mind but I think we can actually postpone them. Right, Y/N?"

With such a declaration, you three headed to the dance floor, not without first ordering something to drink to accompany you in your enjoyment full of laughter, excitement and dance moves that were surely the ones from someone who’s had enough drinks for a day.

As you moved to the rhythm of the music, Charles noticed you stepping away from his side to join some members of the Ferrari team. He decided to follow you, ready to talk to his coworkers. To his surprise, you were chatting animatedly, in the midst of the crowd, with Lando, who had excused himself to go to the bathroom minutes before.

Jealousy and anger coursed through his body in a shiver. The Monegasque felt an urgent need to intervene and mark his territory. As much as he knew you didn't depend on him, and you were both completely independent individuals sometimes, moments like this were the ones where he felt a hint of insecurity about those who, apparently, dared, even minimally, to intrude on your relationship.

Forgetting his discretion and good judgment, Charles rushed towards you and the Brit, his eyes filled with determination and a threatening look on his face, ignoring the insults he had received from those drunkards he had punched.

"What's going on here?" he demanded to know in an authoritative and tense tone.

You and Lando turned, surprised, at Charles's intrusion. You looked at him, confused by the jealousy in your boyfriend's face. You were simply discussing with Norris the idea for a special party in Monaco the following week, just before the next Gran Prix, in honor of Charles’ recent victory.

"Love, you're misinterpreting things," you said, trying to stay calm. "We were just talking as friends," you emphasized the last word.

Leclerc clenched his fists in an attempt to control his anger.

"I don't want you to keep talking to him," he communicated harshly, surprising you greatly.

Lando intervened, trying to alleviate the tension and, especially, to calm his friend's apparent sadness:

"Dude, you have no reason to make a scene in front of everyone over an insignificant bout of jealousy. We're just having a friendly conversation about something for next week, okay?"

Leclerc's expression became even tenser, and his eyes narrowed as he noticed the symbiosis that you, his girlfriend, and Lando, his friend and opponent, seemed to have in hiding something.

"I wouldn't want to ask you again, so... What were you talking about?" Charles inquired in an even sharper tone.

Feeling you boyfriend's murderous gaze, you tried your best not to burst into tears over something as stupid as Charles's insecurity.

"Seriously, believe us," Lando spoke, trying to calm the brunette down. "You have to trust us, we were just talking about something we came up for next week just before Canada!"

The Ferrari driver tried to control his anger, if it was still possible. Meanwhile, he took his time to look at you with, once again, a mix of anger and disappointment, mainly for not answering him.

"And you, why don't you answer me? Are you only interested in him now?"

You looked at him surprised by such a comment, and tried to explain quickly:

"I'll repeat it again, honey: we were just having a friendly conversation! Lando is my friend and your rival, friend, or whatever you want to say it, but there's nothing more to it!"

Out of nowhere, Charles gently took you by the wrist and led you to a place where you could talk quietly. The green-eyed, despite having a bit more alcohol in his system than he should, knew he messed up and needed to fix it somehow.

"Y/N, please be honest: what were you talking about?" Leclerc asked with a concerned expression on his face for the scene he had caused.

"About what we could do in Monaco, here, next week, alright?" you responded, trying to reassure him. "You don't have to worry about anything"

"But why are you talking to him about racing?" the Monegasque insisted again, trying to calm his tone of jealousy. "I don't understand why you have to make plans with other drivers when you're my girlfriend."

"Charles, come on, don't be jealous!" you scolded with a playful smile. "Besides, what we were planning was a surprise party in your honor because, in case you don't remember, you just won your first home race ever. I don't think that's anything bad."

Charles felt really stupid at that moment.

"Are you jealous, my dearest friend?" Lando decided to intervene, who had been attentive the whole time to the intimate scene between the couple.

"What? No!" Leclerc replied as calmly as possible, his attempt in vain.

"Well, it seems quite the opposite to me," Norris said. "You should relax a bit. There's nothing wrong with your girlfriend talking to other drivers, even more so when she's preparing a party for you."

Il predestinato realized Norris was right and decided to calm down.You really didn't deserve the jerk behavior he was displaying at you at the moment.

"I guess you're right, Lando," he turned to you, timidly reaching for her hands. "I'm really sorry, Y/N, I shouldn't have behaved like that."

"It's okay, Charles. I understand that sometimes jealousy can be hard to control, I feel the same way sometimes about your fans, but I manage, not like you just showed me tonight!" you answer with a smile, hitting him in his arm.

Charles felt relieved to see that you had no interest in Lando beyond friendship and planning a failed surprise party in the process. Therefore, he just enjoyed the rest of the night with you, with his friend, and without having to worry about anything else.

[pulisicsgirl]

christmas on my own - mason mount

summary: when Y/N finds herself spending Christmas alone for the first time in her life, a chance encounter with Mason may prove to be just the cure she needed for her holiday blues

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 6.3k

warnings/tags: semi-established relationship, the tiniest bit of angst at the beginning but overwhelming fluff for the rest of it, Christmas celebrations, awkward encounters with meeting the family for the first time

requested: no

notes: surprise!! Please ignore the fact that it's been three months since I last posted a fic. Life has been coming at me pretty fast this year, and it's made it incredibly difficult for me to find the time or motivation to write. But I've been thinking about and planning this one since almost October, so I wanted to be sure I was able to put this out as a little Christmas gift for you all!! Thank you for being so patient with my inconsistent posting schedule this year, and I hope you're all able to enjoy some time with your loved ones this holiday season! Also I know that Mila is still a baby, but for the sake of the fic, please pretend she's a toddler Merry Christmas to all of you, my loves!!

You blew hot air into your clenched fists in an attempt to warm them as you stood in the small Manchester café. The biting cold of the outdoors was still making your fingertips ache as you lingered near the counter, long after you had finished placing your order and paying.

You briefly surveyed the somewhat empty café, admiring the glowing lights and cheerful decorations that the owners had put out for the holiday season. A few sets of what you assumed to be grandparents and their grandchildren were also waiting alongside you, some of the children pressing their faces up against the glass display case as they relayed which pastries and treats they wanted to take home with them.

Today was the first Christmas that you had ever spent alone, and seeing the families happy and smiling together made your heart ache a bit, longing for your childhood when the season still felt magical and joyous.

To say that it had stung when your parents told you they would be travelling to spend the holiday with your brother would be an understatement. It had been unexpected, and they had only given you a little less than a week’s notice, meaning that as you were expected to work both the day before and after Christmas, you didn’t have enough time to make arrangements to go on the trip with them. You knew that your parents missed your brother as he had moved away a couple of years ago, and you understood why they would want to go see him and his wife that he had recently married. But it was hard to get left behind to spend the holiday that’s all about being together and giving to one another alone.

So now, on the afternoon of Christmas, you found yourself standing in a small bakery in Manchester, the very one that your family would always stop by on Christmas Day to get a few smalls treats to take back home after you had opened all of your gifts.

You had spent the morning at home, watching a couple Christmas films to try to put yourself in a festive mood and generally just feeling sorry for yourself. You had tried your best not to just mope about all day, but it proved difficult. By the time the afternoon rolled around, you decided that it just didn’t feel right to not make your annual trip to the bakery, even if it would be by yourself this year. So you had dragged yourself out of bed, put on a nice sweater and some black leggings and styled your hair a bit in the hopes of making yourself feel better, and decided to walk to the bakery in order to get a bit of fresh air.

You were lost in your own thoughts, fantasizing about the sweet taste of the coffee and pastry that would surely be coming your way soon when the bell above the entrance rang out. Your eyes naturally jumped over to the door to see where the noise was coming from, and your stomach sank to your feet when you saw who had stepped in.

It was Mason.

You and Mason had been going out for the last few weeks—not long enough to put an official label on it, but long enough that the two of you had gotten to know each other better and knew that you were both serious about this.

You had no idea what he was doing at the small bakery, but the last thing you wanted was for him to find out how pitiful you were, spending Christmas at home, alone on your couch.

Your hand darted up, scratching the side of your head in an attempt to hide your face from him as he approached the register only 10 feet away from you. Hoping that was enough to make sure he wouldn’t see you, your heart began to race as you realized that the worker would be calling out your name when your order was ready, and there would surely be no escape then.

You were beginning to contemplate the possibility of just leaving without the items you had paid for when his soft voice cut through your thoughts, thwarting any plans you’d had to run.

“Y/N?” he asked sweetly, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Fancy seeing you here! Happy Christmas!”

You glanced up at him, his eyes bright as you tried to feign surprise at the sight of him.

“Mason, hi!” He drew you into a quick embrace, his scent surrounding you almost immediately. “Happy Christmas!” you mumbled into his chest before he released you.

“W-What are you doing here?” you rushed to ask, hoping to avoid any questions about your holiday celebrations.

“I’m actually on my way back home from training,” he spoke, scratching the back of his neck.

“Training? On Christmas?” you exclaimed. “That’s cruel!”

He laughed shortly, nodding along as he spoke. “I know, but we actually have a match tomorrow, so they couldn’t afford us a day off, unfortunately.” He shrugged, seeming like his cheery mood hadn’t been too phased by the interruption from his job. “But anyway, my family all came to mine for the holidays, and my nieces insisted I bring back a treat for them when I came home. I remembered you had mentioned this place, so I thought I should give it a try.”

Your heart fluttered at his mention of your conversation from a couple weeks ago. You had told him about the tradition in passing on a date when he had asked about how you and your family usually celebrated Christmas, and the fact that he had even remembered that detail meant the world to you.

“Oh, that’s so lovely that they were all still able to come up to celebrate with you,” you smiled at him.

“Yeah, they all arrived yesterday, and we did stockings this morning, but I’m sure my nieces are itching for me to get home so they can open the rest of their presents.”

Your chest felt warm at the way he always spoke about his family—especially his young nieces. Anyone could see from a mile off that he loved them all dearly.

“Are they going to be able to stay long?”

“They’ll be here for a couple of days, actually! Gonna be able to go to the game tomorrow as well, so I’m really excited to be able to have them there.” His grin spread nearly from ear to ear, the crinkles by his eyes becoming more pronounced. “But what about you? I’m assuming you’re here picking up the traditional Christmas pastries?”

Your heart sank, trying to find a way around the fact that you were alone for the holidays. You didn’t want him to pity you or to feel bad for expressing his joy over having his family with him. “Well, actually, I—um—”

“Y/N!” one of the bakery’s employees called out, placing a small to-go cup of coffee and a single, wrapped pastry on the counter. Your head dipped low, you walked over to the counter, picking up your order and quietly thanking the employee before you turned to walk back over to Mason. The look of confusion was unmistakable on his face as he looked at the single pastry in your hands, rather than the bulk order of treats that you had told him about weeks prior.

“My… parents actually went to visit my brother for the holidays,” you spoke quietly, having to force each word of your admission out. “So the order’s just for me today.” You forced a smile onto your face, hoping he wouldn’t see through the façade.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been on your own today,” Mason spoke, and you rushed to assure him that you were fine.

“I mean, yeah, but it’s—”

“Y/N, there’s no use in that. We have plenty of food and space at mine! You should’ve said something!”

“I—what?” His response caught you completely off-guard, not at all what you had expected him to say.

“Come over! We’d love to have you!” A huge smile spread across his face as he spoke to you. “There’s no reason for you to spend the holidays alone.”

“Mason, I couldn’t,” you immediately began trying to track back, but he didn’t seem at all discouraged by your protest. “I wouldn’t want to impose, and—”

“You’re not imposing, I’m inviting you,” he stated, matter-of-factly, as if it was just a simple matter. “My family would love to have you, and my nieces will be overjoyed to have someone new around!”

You were stumbling over your words, unable to fight against his persistence. “But… But I…”

“Look, we don’t have to say anything about us at all,” Mason said, sensing your resolve crumbling bit by bit. “You don’t have to meet my family as the girl that I’m dating, I’ll just introduce you as a friend. It’ll be completely fine.”

You bit your lip as you searched his face for any sign of hesitation. You couldn’t deny that the idea of joining in his family’s festivities did lift your spirits a little bit. The idea of being gathered around a Christmas tree and watching everyone opening gifts, maybe wrapped up in a warm blanket as you shared laughs with the others.

The final nail in the coffin for you was thinking about going back to your dreary apartment with the half-hearted decorations and spending the rest of the day by yourself.

“Please?” Mason pleaded with you one last time, his eyebrows raised as he gave you his best puppy dog eyes to convince you.

“You’re sure no one will mind?”

“I’m positive. My mum would be more upset with me if she found out I knew you were spending Christmas alone and didn’t bring you home.” The grin resumed its place on his lips as soon as you agreed, Mason bouncing slightly on his toes in giddy excitement.

Just at that moment, a voice rang out, calling Mason’s name, signaling that his order was ready to go. He quickly moved to the counter, scooping up the rather large box of pastries and holding it in one hand while he grabbed yours with the other and nearly dragged you out of the door of the bakery. You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from your lips at his almost child-like glee at your agreement to join his family for the rest of their Christmas celebrations.

“Alright, you want to just follow me there?” he asked as the two of you strode into the parking lot. You had been to his place once before for a movie night, but he wanted to be certain you got there safely and didn’t lose your way.

“I actually walked here from my apartment, so would you mind if I just rode with you?” you asked sheepishly.

“Of course, love.” The pet name slipped out without him even thinking about it as he led you to the passenger side of his car, opening the door for you. Testing his luck a bit, Mason pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head as you stepped past him to get into the car, and you felt the heat rushing into your cheeks as he closed the door behind you.

He popped in the driver’s seat, starting the engine and turning the radio onto some station playing nonstop Christmas music, and the two of you were off, heading in the direction of his home.

You were thankful that his house was a little while away as it gave you time to collect yourself before walking into a room full of Mason’s closest family members. You thanked your lucky stars that you had gotten to urge to dress at least a little bit nice before leaving your apartment that morning so that you’d be presentable for meeting them.

After all, even if he introduced you to them as his friend this time around, if things with Mason went the way you hoped they would, you’d be seeing them many times again in the future, and you wanted to make a good first impression. 

The drive to his house was comfortable. The moments of silence were peaceful and never tense. The two of you caught up a bit since you hadn’t seen each other for a few days, and you tried your best not to think too hard about the nerve-wracking evening ahead of you. Mason kept glancing over at your bouncing knee—he could tell that you were nervous, and you could tell that he was fighting the urge to hold your hand.

So, in a moment of bravery, you reached over, bringing his free hand into your lap and intertwining your fingers. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at the slight blush that crept up his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose as he began stroking his thumb across your knuckles, back and forth in a soothing motion.

Sooner than you were prepared for, Mason turned into the long driveway that wound back to his house, and you swallowed a nervous lump as his house came into view.

“You’re sure this is okay?” you asked as he put the car in park and turned off the engine, still somewhat nervous about intruding on their family holiday.

“Y/N, it’s fine,” Mason held your face in both of his hands for a moment, trying to reassure you to the best of his ability. “My mum loves hosting new people, so she’s gonna be super excited when I bring you in there!”

Something about the way he said that made your ears perk up. “Wait, Mason—Mason!” you exclaimed as he quickly got out of the driver’s seat. You threw open your door, leaping to your feet despite the fact that Mason was on his way around to your side to open the door for you. “Did you not at least text them to let them know I was coming with you?” you asked, exasperated.

Mason shrugged as if he didn’t see what the big deal was, shaking his head ‘no.’

“Mason! I can’t just—”

He cut you off by pressing his finger to your lips, gently shushing you. “Hey, trust me,” he looked intensely into your eyes. “It’s okay,” he said slowly.

Your shoulders slumped slightly, resigning yourself to him as you whispered a soft “okay.”

He tapped the tip of your nose and a quiet giggle escaped from your lips. You hated and loved how this boy could turn you into complete mush in mere moments. It made you feel so giddy but also so vulnerable at the same time, and it was a feeling you were still getting used to.

He held onto the car door, letting you step out from behind it before closing it and gestured for you to head toward his front door once he had retrieved the box of pastries from his back seat. He reassured you of his presence just behind you with his hand placed gently on the small of your back.

You hesitated at the front door, letting out a shuddery breath.

“Hey, it’s no biggie. Don’t freak yourself out, okay?” Mason spoke as if he had been able to read your mind, sneaking one final kiss to your forehead before stepping toward the door and reaching for the doorknob. Even though you hadn’t been seeing each other for very long, you noticed how Mason couldn’t seem to help himself from those small touches—the little gestures of reassurance like the forehead kisses, a hand on your back, and gentle touch on your knee—and it kind of surprised you how much they settled you, as you had never been big on copious amounts of physical touch in your past relationships.

Mason stepped through the doorway into his home, and you followed behind him, doing your best to still your racing heart.

It was only seconds after the sound of the door opening could be heard within the house that you hear the sound of tiny feet slapping on the floor, heading in your direction. Moments later, two little girls rounded the corner and came bolting toward you and Mason as he closed the door behind the two of you, the air filled with their squeals and giggles.

“Uncle Masey! Uncle Masey!” they screamed, wrapping their arms around each of his legs. Mason immediately matched their energy, clearly just as excited to be coming home to them as he squeezed them close to his body with his free hand. You took the box of pastries from him so that he could bend down, scooping them both up in his arms and pressing kisses all over their faces. The girls giggled and screamed as he told them how much he had missed them between kisses.

Mason finally pulled back after one final, dramatic kiss that had the older of the two wiping at her cheek and she laughed at him. If you had thought the way Mason spoke about his nieces was sweet, it was nothing compared to the way he acted around them.

“Summer, Mila, this is Y/N,” Mason spoke once the girls’ giggles had quieted.

“Is she your wife?” the older girl asked, and your mouth dropped open in shock.

Mason, clearly amused by her question, threw his head back and laughed. “No, Summer. Y/N is just my friend.”

“Oh, okay,” Summer shrugged, quickly moving on from the conversation, wiggling so that Mason would set her back on the floor. Immediately she took off, running out of sight and Mason followed behind her with Mila still in his arms.

Voices could be heard coming from the kitchen, and you remained just behind Mason as you followed him, hoping that his body would shield you from the rest of his family.

When you found the others, you first saw Summer crawling up into one of the tall chairs at the kitchen bar, surrounded by numerous others. Perfectly-shaped gingerbread cookies lined the countertop, placed on sheets of wax paper, and bags of differently-colored icing were strewn around the countertop, along with various shapes and sizes of sprinkles. Cheerful Christmas music was ringing out through the room, and a warm feeling spread through your chest at the sight of it all.

Several of Mason’s family members greeted him as soon as the three of you entered the spacious kitchen, happy to see him back home from training.

Mason wasted no time in bringing you around to his side with a gentle hand between your shoulders before he let his hand fall to his side, not wanting to make you feel self-conscious in front of his family.

“Guys, this is my friend, Y/N,” Mason smiled at you reassuringly. “She’s gonna be joining us for the rest of the day.”

His introduction irked you slightly, wanting to give more of an explanation for why you were crashing their holiday when Summer piped up from where she was very focused on decorating her gingerbread man. “And she’s not Uncle Masey’s wife.”

A chorus of laughs rang through the room, and you felt your cheeks heat up, forcing a laugh to try to play off the fact that you felt like you were about to pee your pants.

A woman who you could only assume was Mason’s mother wiped her hands off on a dish towel, walking in your direction with open arms.

“Oh, it’s so lovely to meet you, Y/N! I’m Debbie—Mason’s mum,” she spoke, confirming your guess. Mason quickly snatched the box of pastries from you so your hands were free and Debbie pulled you into a tight embrace—it was one of those hugs where you felt every muscle in your body relax a bit, and immediately you felt a little bit more settled in the unfamiliar environment.

“Thank you so much for having me.” You felt a bit silly, thanking her for being willing to do something she hadn’t even really agreed to in the first place.

“No, no, it’s nothing!” Debbie pulled back from the hug, waving her hand at you before she led you further into the kitchen, beginning to introduce you to everyone.  You met Mason’s father, Tony, who had greeted you with the same warm embrace that Debbie had, and then she introduced you to Mason’s brother, Lewis, and his sister Jaz and her husband before repeating the young girls’ names to you. Everyone had greeted you cheerfully, not even blinking an eye at the fact that Mason had brought a stranger home to join their Christmas celebration.

It wasn’t long before Debbie had you set up with your own sheet of wax paper and a cookie to decorate. You caught Mason’s eye, a sweet smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye that said I told you so.

You were surprised at how easy it was to settle in with Mason’s family. You had never been someone that was good at meeting new people, and it typically took you a while to warm up to them. But Mason’s family wasted no time in treating you as one of their own, and it almost felt natural to be there with them within minutes.

Playful banter was exchanged, Summer and Mila were shouting for everyone to look at their sprinkle-covered cookies, and everyone was laughing. Mason settled into his spot next to you, nudging you gently with his shoulder.

Mason’s family asked a little bit about yourself, but they kept the questions light, and you were thankful that they didn’t try to dig into why Mason had brought you home.

Once all the cookies had been decorated, the girls began shouting that it was time to open presents and Jaz had to wrestle them into wiping their hands and faces clean of icing before they took off, sprinting in the direction of the living room.

Once everyone had settled in the living room, some on the couch, some sitting on the floor, Tony donned a large Santa hat and beard before he began to distribute the gifts that were under and around the tree. You had kicked your shoes off by the door and tucked your legs up under you as you settled into the cushions next to Mason, a respectable amount of space still between you as you still didn’t really know how to handle yourselves around his family.

Each person opened their presents as Tony handed them out, one by one, and everyone ooh-ed and ahh-ed as each gift was uncovered. Debbie and Jaz were taking lots of photos of everyone as they tore into their gifts. Your heart swelled at the thoughtful gifts that were exchanged. It became quickly apparent that remembering small details about the things people said was something that Mason had gotten from his family.

Mason kept silently checking in on you, glancing over to make sure you doing okay. You could feel his gaze on the side of your face, glancing over and making eye contact with him before shooting him an assuring smile.

By the time all of the presents were open and the wrapping paper and ribbons had been collected and put into trash bags, it was nearing dinner time and Debbie disappeared back into the kitchen to put the finishing touches on the food. You sprang to your feet, naturally wanting to help her as a thank you for having you as a guest (despite her insistence that you didn’t need to), and Jaz joined the two of you soon after.

Conversation flowed naturally between the three of you, and you felt completely at ease talking with them as you worked to finish the finals bits of the Christmas dinner, most of it having been prepared before and very little needing to be done to finish it.

The fated question finally came up as the three of you were carrying everything to the table.

“So, Y/N, I don’t mean to pry, but I’ve got to ask.” Your heart leapt immediately at Debbie’s words. “Are you and Mason only friends, or is there something more going on there?”

You pondered for a moment how to answer her question. At the beginning of the day, you would never have dreamed of admitting the nature of your relationship with Mason to his mother. But now, after the time you had spent with him, you settled on telling her the truth. You knew you were serious about the budding relationship between the two of you, and you knew he was, too. Though you hadn’t officially put any labels on it, having decided to take things slow, you had started being more open about it with your circle of friends.

“Well, I… we’ve… gone on a few dates,” you started, and a pleased smile took over Debbie’s face. “We’re taking things slow, but he’s been an absolute gentleman and he’s been nothing short of amazing to me.”

Debbie beamed with pride at your words. “Well, I didn’t raise him to be anything less than that, so I’m glad to hear it.”

“We haven’t been going out for very long, and I really wasn’t planning on crashing your family’s Christmas today,” you felt the need to explain yourself, now that you were putting all of your cards on the table. “My family… they actually are out of town visiting my brother this holiday season, and I happened to run into Mason at the bakery this afternoon. As soon as he found out I was spending Christmas on my own, he insisted I come back here with him, and he was not taking no for an answer,” you chuckled at the recent memory.

“Oh, love,” Debbie’s face held a slight pout as she instantly read the sadness that you tried to hide over not spending the holiday with your family. She pulled you into another of her amazing hugs, placing a quick kiss on your cheek as she drew away. “Well I speak for everyone when I say we’ve loved having you here with us.”

Your mind flashed back to how unphased everyone had been by your arrival. “Does Mason do this a lot? Picking up strays for the holidays?” you tried to play off your question with a laugh, momentarily wondering if you were just another girl on a long list.

Debbie shook her head. “No, he’s never done anything like this before. And he’s certainly never brought a girl home for something like this,” she spoke, calming your nerves. You had felt a bit silly for asking in the first place, but her words soothed your fleeting insecurities. “But hopefully we can look forward to having you at many Christmases in the future,” she beamed, patting your cheek before she wandered back into the kitchen and refraining from prying any further.

You blew out a long breath that you didn’t even realize you had been holding, trying to wrap your head around the conversation you had just had—with a woman you had only met a few hours ago. And it wasn’t just some normal thing for Mason to bring girls home during the holidays, but everyone had just been that welcoming to you, despite showing up without warning. Your chest felt full, swelling with love for Mason and his family.

Debbie called the others to the table to eat, and you wandered in the direction of the living room, hoping to catch Mason for a moment before you joined the others. The rest of his family filtered out of the room, leaving you and Mason alone for the first time in the last few hours.

“You doing okay?” Mason asked, and you wordlessly wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest and holding onto him tighter than you ever had before. Caught a bit off-guard by the affection, Mason wrapped his arms gently around your body, running his fingers up and down your spine.

His heart sank when you pulled your head back to look at him, arms still wrapped around his torso, and he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

“What happened, love?! Did someone say something—”

“Thank you,” you whispered, your lower lip trembling.

“For what, love?” Mason cradled your cheek in one of his hands, swiping his thumb under your eye to wipe away a tear. You noticed that he used the pet name more frequently when he was concerned.

“For bringing me here. For introducing me to your family. They’re amazing, Mason.”

A look of relief and adoration washed over Mason’s face and he smiled at you, leaning down to press his forehead to yours. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Me, too,” you let your eyes slip closed, allowing yourself to take a moment to yourselves and let your heart settle a bit.

“You know your mom asked me about us?” you broke the silence after a few seconds.

“Yeah?” he pulled back to look at your face, trying to gauge your reaction. “And what did you tell her?”

“The truth,” you gently shrugged your shoulders. “That we’ve gone out a few times and we’re taking things pretty slow, but that I think I’ll probably keep you around.”

“Yeah?” he grinned, and you nodded in response.

“Come on, we should probably head in there before Summer comes looking,” you pulled back, wiping away any stray tears with the sleeve of your sweater, hoping that no one would be able to tell how emotional you had just gotten.

The two of you joined the others at the table, taking your place between Mason and Summer after she had insisted you sit beside her, much to Mason’s fake offense. The food was incredible, as it had been a while since you’d had a big home-cooked meal like this, and you were sure to let Debbie know how much you enjoyed it. When everyone’s plates were empty, everyone took part in the freshly-decorated cookies and Mason and Lewis cleared the dishes, being sure to push you, Debbie, and Jaz toward the living room before any of you tried to help.

You were just returning from a quick trip to the bathroom when the boys walked back in from the kitchen, and you noticed everyone settling back down on the couch.

“We always watch a Christmas film after dinner, but I can take you home if you’re ready to leave,” Mason explained to you.

You thought over the offer for a moment, deciding you weren’t really ready to part from Mason and his family just yet.

“I mean… I wouldn’t mind sticking around a little while longer—unless you guys were wanting it to be just a family thing,” you rushed to add, not wanting to overstay your welcome.

Your words were met with immediate protest from the rest of Mason’s family, each of them insisting that you stay, and Mason smiled down at you. “Yeah, what they said.”

You giggled, letting him lead you around to sit next to him on the couch, allowing yourself to sit a bit closer to him than you had earlier that afternoon.

Tony even offered for you to pick the film, but as soon as Summer had shouted her desire to watch Elf, you were all agreed.

Mason threw a fluffy blanket over both of your legs as the movie’s opening scene played. “Is this okay?” he whispered, trying not to draw anyone else’s attention and you nodded in return.

You tucked your legs under your body, allowing your knee to rest slightly on his thigh and your shoulder to lean onto his, now feeling more comfortable showing some affection around Mason’s family.

The movie played on, and your heart soared listening to Summer and Mila giggle and clap their hands at their favorite bits. You felt at home there with Mason and his family, all cozied up in his living room on the night of Christmas as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Your heart swelled with the love that you already felt for all of them, and though you knew it was still a bit soon, you couldn’t wait to get to know them and get to spend more time with them as your relationship with Mason developed.

As comfortable as you were and with all of the lights in the house turned off for the movie, you didn’t even realize your eyes were slipping closed until you jolted awake, recognizing the scene on the TV as one that was near to the end of the movie. Mason must have felt the sudden movement from where your head was resting on his shoulder, and he took your hand in his, running his thumbs over your knuckles to calm you, the same way he had done in the car earlier that day.

You nestled your head further into his shoulder, savoring the last few moments you had with Mason and his family before the movie ended.

It was over sooner than you would have liked, and everyone sat up from where they had sunk into the couch cushions, stretching and yawning. It was clear that everyone was exhausted from the day’s festivities. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, noticing Jaz and her husband quietly scooping up the girls from where they, too, had fallen asleep, and carried them down the hallway, seemingly to put them to bed.

“You ready to go home?” Mason asked you quietly as everyone began to rise from the couch. You nodded. “Okay, let me go grab my keys and we can head out.”

“Oh, Mason, I can just call an Uber or something, I don’t want to take you away from your family—”

“Absolutely not,” he cut you off. “You think I’m gonna let some stranger come pick you up and drive your back to your apartment?” You grinned at him, unable to find the words to answer him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” His voice held an air of playful sarcasm.

Slowly, the two of you made your way to the front entrance. Everyone bade you goodbye as you made to leave. Debbie was sure to get a couple more hugs in before you left, insisting that you come around the next time they were up to visit, and you promised that you would.

Before long, you found yourself sitting in Mason’s car once again as he backed out into the street and set out on the route to your apartment. You were leaning across the center console of his car, leaning your head on his shoulder, and holding his free hand in yours.

You were feeling especially affectionate after the day you had, full of love for him and his family. The drive was silent as you listened to the music softly playing from his radio, no words needed to communicate to each other how you were feeling.

Before long, Mason pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex and insisted upon walking you up to your door, like the gentleman he always was.

As you reached your door, you turned to face him, giggling at the cliché of it all as you wrapped your arms around his torso. He pulled you in close to him, holding you tightly as he beamed down at you.

“Was your Christmas okay, then? Even though you didn’t get to spend it the way you usually do?”

“Mason, it was wonderful,” you smiled up at him, feeling like there were no words that would do justice for how the day had made you feel. “It was better than I ever could have imagined. Thank you for bringing me home with you today. I was honestly feeling awful after spending the morning by myself and this was the best Christmas miracle I could’ve ever dreamed up.”

Mason squeezed you a little tighter, pleased that his impulsive decision at the bakery to invite you to his home had worked out. “I’m so glad you were there. I’m so glad you got to meet them.”

“I am, too. And I’m glad I got to share this day with you.” Your heart felt like it was overflowing, and you could barely hold yourself together.

You snaked one of your hands around the back of Mason’s neck, threading your fingers into his hair and pulling him down to join your lips in a long but gentle kiss. It was the first one you had shared all day, as Mason had been waiting for you to initiate it first, but you couldn’t refrain from indulging yourself any longer. This was surely your favorite kiss that the two of you had shared, even more so than your first. It was so full of unspoken passion and love, and it left your head spinning when you finally pulled apart for air, foreheads still pressed together.

Mason couldn’t help but press two more quick pecks on your lips before finally pulling back to look at you. The two of you just smiled at each other for a moment, and you studied Mason’s features as you stood there.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Mason whispered, breaking the silence.

“Goodnight, Mason,” you replied. “Thank you for everything today.” Mason’s only response was a firm kiss on your forehead before he unwound his arms from your body, taking a couple of steps backward as he began heading back to his car.

You watched him walk down the hallway, glancing back at you with a wave before he rounded the corner, and you entered your apartment.

Closing your eyes and leaning against the closed door, you smiled to yourself. You may not have known Mason for long, but already, you were certain that this boy meant the absolute world to you, and his family had found their place securely in your heart.

tag list: @landoslover @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @brasiliangp @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic @mm-vii @captainpulisic

[moonlit-imagines]

Preferences: Being Klarion’s sibling and dating Dick Grayson

The Team x reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: @severebirdpeace: “Can you do oneshot story of Dick Grayson/Nightwing(Young Justice seasons 3 &4) x Fem s/o who is Klarion the Witch Boy's younger sister; unlike her brother she is kind-hearted, gentle, soft spoken and she uses her magic for good and she's been Dick's secret helper until she was discovered by the heroes and the Light. Each got their own reactions please?”

Artemis was a little skeptical at first. "Uh, how old is 'y/n'?" She asked, knowing that Klarion was about...well, Klarion was some millennia old. She assured Dick she'd be keeping an eye on the two of you, but she knew better than anyone not to judge by who you're related to, even if it happens to be an inter-dimensional chaos demon who has caused plenty of trouble in their years as vigilantes.

Conner did not get it at all. Like, at all. "You have to be joking," he'd say, "you're gonna put the whole Team in danger!" Dick would assure him that you weren't a danger to the team, but Conner was standoffish, believing this could only go one way. "I'll give them a chance, I guess. But believe me when I say I'll be keeping an eye on things."

Kaldur was protective, worried that this was an act of deception by the chaos demon himself. And hey, the Team had seen much more bizarre schemes, so it wasn't out of the question. "You will have to earn my trust, y/n. But until then, I'll have to remain somewhat apprehensive in your presence."

M’gann was very openly against this relationship, also protective of her longtime friend. "Out of all the people in this galaxy, you just had to pick someone who is literally related to one of our most powerful and annoying enemies! Are you being mind controlled? Do I need to go in there?" Dick chuckled and denied the accusations, defending your character regardless of how futile it would be.

Will found it amusing. After all, it was pretty ironic. "I like them bad, too." He joked with Dick, who promised you were nowhere near "bad" and were actually extremely kindhearted compared to your brother, Klarion. Will just kept teasing since he never expected this from Boy Wonder.

Zatanna really fought this one, trying extremely hard not to sound jealous. She did. But her main argument as a master of the mystic arts was that you were dangerous and not to be trusted, which was also a solid argument. Klarion is a very powerful demon and despite what the texts of her ancient books may say, she cannot trust any relatives of the Witch Boy. "Keep in mind that I will keep constant watch of y/n, one wrong move and I will send them back where they came from."

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @azazel-nyx // @simsrecs // @xoxobabydolls // @ravenstrueluv // @cicatraize // @captainshazamerica // @bad4amficideas // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @jade-178 // @deanzboyfriend // @zoeyserpentluck //

[littlespoonevan]

I watched the first three seasons of 911 back when that was all that had aired and just didn’t keep watching after the break between seasons for whatever reason. I also didn’t really get buddie, I just thought it was a beautiful friendship. I’m now on a rewatch and just got to the end of season 4 and boy am I all in, Buck’s reaction to Eddie getting shot and the aftermath really made me get it. Anyway, I was wondering if you have any fic recs for a buddie newbie? I’m probably gonna speed through the rest of the show in a few days and need something else to occupy me hahah

hey bud, welcome back to the world of 911!! 🥰 okay so i have some previous fic recs that i've posted here and i also have 489 bookmarks on ao3 which you can have a scroll through here (i only ever bookmark something for rereading or reccing purposes so can confirm i've read and loved them all)

but i'll do my best to make a somewhat cohesive list below of some of my personal faves. i have no doubt i'll probably leave some out accidentally but they'll definitely be in my bookmarks so 100% check those out too!! ❤️

The Nearness of You by allisonRW96 / @homerforsure

Eddie reassured himself that he could do this. Other teams coming in were probably going to be staying at the same hotel in the same double rooms and it was very possible that none of them were going to be having sex. Or even lying awake at night thinking about it. Or: Buck and Eddie go on a work trip.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania / @hmslusitania

“We’re here for our grandson,” Helena says. “Chris is still sleeping,” Buck says. “I meant, we’re here to take him back to Texas,” Helena clarifies. “Yeah,” Buck says. He’s too tired, way too tired to be tactful. “Over my dead body.” -- An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.

To Build a Home We Deconstruct Our Rituals by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels /@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

After the shooting, Eddie realizes he needs to put some things in place. Like who will get his assets if he dies. Who will speak for him if he ends up in a coma. What might happen if his family contests Buck's guardianship. Luckily, he's got a simple easy-peasy solution that won't result in insanity, catastrophe, or heartbreak: Marry Buck.

standing on the brink of emptiness by woodchoc_magnum / @woodchoc-magnum

In which Eddie is struggling in the aftermath of being shot, learning how to take care of himself and realising he's in love with Buck; and Buck is dating Taylor, taking care of Eddie and Christopher and trying to figure out why he's so goddamn confused about everything.

across our great divide (a glorious sunrise) by catchingpapermoons 

“We’re working on it,” Maddie explains, shooting Chimney a look. He nods seriously. “In couples therapy.” “Huh,” Eddie says, and then he thinks about it. "Do you think Buck and I would benefit from couples therapy?" — or, Eddie gets Buck to come to couples therapy with him.

darling, the future's better than yesterday by rarakiplin (gmontys)

Eddie, ten years younger, in this awful 2010, blinks up at him. He's still sitting slumped on the curb, and for a second Buck thinks he might tell him to fuck off, but then his eyes fall shut and there’s something — aching and painfully vulnerable in the bend of his mouth, the faint tension in his brow. “My…um, girlfriend, I guess. She’s pregnant.” “Holy shit,” Buck says. - or, buck deals with some wonky dimensional/time travel and then breaks up with his girlfriend. eddie, obviously, is involved.

i'm here (i’m yours for the taking) by farfromthstars / @buckactuallys

“Everyone!” Around forty heads turn, and Buck shifts on his feet uncomfortably at the attention. “This is my old friend Buck and his husband, Eddie.” “Uh,” Buck makes, turning to Eddie with wide eyes. Eddie's looking just as stunned. “Connor, I think you got–” He cuts himself off when Eddie wraps an arm around his waist. ~ at the winter wedding of an old friend, buck and eddie pretend to be married to each other. the plan has no weaknesses, obviously, not even mistletoe or anyone’s secret feelings… they call it the season of giving i'm here, i'm yours for the taking

Your Fingerprints Smeared on My Heart (Lead Me Back to You) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

In 1880, Evan Buckley of the arriviste set is sent out west to oversee his family's railroad and recover from a broken heart - and meets Eddie Diaz, cowboy. When fate tears them apart, they make a promise: find each other again. In 2018, Buck walks into his fire station in Los Angeles - and meets Eddie Diaz, new recruit.

no kingdom to come by waywardrenegades

Family, FaceTime, guilt trips, phone calls, church, heart healthy meals, and learning how to let yourself be happy. Whatever that looks like. or; when his father experiences a health scare, Eddie flies to El Paso.

when i was shipwrecked (i thought of you) by catchingpapermoons 

Buck walks toward Jee-Yun’s room, still talking, and Christopher trails after him, asking excited questions in response, and Eddie’s smile grows. He wants this forever. Everything, every part of it; Buck, Christopher, and him—that’s all he needs. And— Oh. Oh no. He shuts his eyes for a moment, inhaling sharply. He’s looking at Buck, and feeling something strictly not platonic at all. or: Eddie needs to learn how to let himself feel, and one step at a time, he learns how to do just that. (And he falls in love with Buck along the way.)

i don't swim and you're not in love by hattalove / @hattalove

She turns to Eddie and says something else, but Buck is busy fighting the headrush he gets at the sound of Ana Flores calling Eddie and Christopher 'the boys'. Like they belong to her already. God, what’s wrong with him? What is this? or, eddie cooks, chris domesticates a slug, and buck tries to figure out why he hates his best friend's girlfriend. to everyone's immense shock and surprise, it goes badly.

everything's coming up milhouse by hammersmiths / @bucktommys

LAFD Updates (@L*A*F*D_Metro) LAFD Alert: Red-level traffic on Gardiner Road this morning. If you are trying to get into the city centre consider taking Westerley Lane. buck 🔥🔥 (@firebuck) so true bestie or, Eddie mans the LAFD Twitter account. Buck tries to be supportive.

said i couldn't stay, but it's different now by hattalove

“I think,” he says, watching Karen pull Hen out onto the dance floor, their eyes never leaving each other’s, “I think I’m just—sad.” Maybe. That feels like a close enough word to describe this gaping maw right in the center of his chest. It’s only really there sometimes, taking little bites out of him, easy enough to ignore, but today is worse. “About being single at a wedding,” Eddie says, not a question. Buck shrugs. “Sounds stupid when you put it that way.” or, the one with the four weddings (feat. a drunk karen wilson, shania twain, a single cheerio, and some confessions over cubed fruit).

cause i'm tired of sleeping alone by rarakiplin (gmontys)

Buck goes on dates now. Not often, and never with the same girl twice in a row, but he goes on dates. And the thing is — the thing is, Eddie can’t be mad about that, because he goes on dates too. - or, five (ish) times eddie and buck go on dates with other people, and one time they go on a date with each other

so far from being free by allisonRW96

"That’s Daniel. He was our brother. Buck doesn’t know what to do with the past tense. He never had a brother. He’s always had a brother. He gained one and lost one in the same breath and it feels impossible. But even if Buck was capable of doubting Maddie, the truth of her confession is evident in the way it throws every facet of his childhood into sudden perfect clarity. That yawning, arctic absence. The unnamable fear. The impenetrable target of his parents’ approval that he was never, ever going to be able to hit. That they didn’t want him to hit. He has a brother. A dead brother who has haunted Buck’s steps for his entire life."

don't let the tide come and wash us away by writerforlife

Buck develops a relationship with the ocean, avoids talking about the day Eddie was shot, realizes he might be in love, and drives. Order may vary. (a fic for the "Buck is going to break all the way down in season 6" truthers)

dance, for all that we've been through by catchingpapermoons 

The Los Angeles Ballet’s 2022-2023 season ends with a bang with their fresh take on a ballet staple, Swan Lake. Artistic Director Bobby Nash is in his eighth season with the Los Angeles Ballet, and it has flourished under his direction. However, his associate, Eddie Diaz, is the one whose reimagining of the choreography has caught our attention... (or, Eddie Diaz moves to L.A. to restart his dance career, and ends up choreographing a show, finding a family, and falling in love. Not necessarily in that order.)

I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other. When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other.

never felt this way before (yes i swear) by withoutthetiger

It’s the summer of 2022, when Buck no longer wants to be called Evan, and it only occurs to his parents to mind. It’s after the pandemic – or so they say – and before whatever hell will befall the world next, when Buck can’t wait to join the LAFD in September, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever meet someone as gently strong and fiercely protective as his big sister. It’s the summer he goes with his family to the One Eighteen Ranch & Lodge. *** A Dirty Dancing AU, set in Texas in 2022, featuring a whole lot of familiar faces in a not so familiar place.

Fragile lines (and wasted time) by Mellaithwen / @mellaithwen

“Hey Buck,” Christopher says a little shyly, before reaching out to grab Buck’s foot through the hospital blankets—shaking it in the same way he’s woken his father up on many a bleary-eyed morning. The familiarity of the gesture makes Eddie’s head spin. But of course, there’s no response from the comatose man on the bed. “I thought you said he was sleeping,” Chris mumbles, angrily swiping at his cheeks, and Eddie’s already broken heart shatters all over again for whatever hope his son had just lost when his expectations were so cruelly dashed. . While Buck sleeps, and dreams in the aftermath of the lightning strike, Eddie tries desperately to hold himself together.

Don't Take the Money by HMSLusitania

“You know, being stuck here isn’t actually the end of the world,” Chimney says, coming up to the table and picking up one of the smoke detectors. “It just feels like it, Buck. Trust me, I know.” “I’m pretty sure it might actually be the end of the world,” Buck says. “Considering this is the sixth time I’ve lived this day.” Chimney stares at him for a beat and then his eyebrows lift. “Wait, are you like – dude, are you in Groundhog Day?” OR The post-lawsuit time-loop AU literally no one asked for.

keep your eyes on the road by iriswests / @fcntasmas

Buck used to speed through yellow lights; now they’re his favorite part of the drive. -- or; a glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light

Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston

The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind. +++ [Eddie is the newest firefighter at the 118. Buck is the ghost haunting the 118. Unfortunately for both of them, Eddie's also a witch and needs to put Buck's spirit to rest, because that's what witches do. Turns out, Buck's spirit? Super not interested in being put to rest. Very interested, however, in flirting with Firefighter Diaz, who is just trying to survive his candidate year. (Also turns out, Buck? Super not dead.)

as lucky as us by hammersmiths

One of the first things Ravi learned when joining the 118 was to, under no circumstances, think too hard about Buck and Eddie’s relationship. But brother, they could try make his job easier. “I mean, I get it,” Buck’s saying, overhead, and Ravi’s knee-deep in literal human crap and even he can smell that shit from a mile away. “You and Tommy have a lot in common.” or, Ravi continually suffers as a third-wheel.

[pamwritessometimes]

The Great Invasion: Chapter 2

Dean Winchester x female!reader

Summary: In a world turned upside down, where monsters hunt and hunters are the prey, Y/N must choose: follow the new rules to stay alive or join a rogue band of hunters determined to reclaim power and change the game for good.

General warnings: dark themes, gore, kind of apocalyptic vibes, language.

Chapter warnings: slight sexual innuendos, depression, ridiculous ghost talk, having dark flashbacks

Theme song of the chapter: Don't Ask Me No Questions by Lynyrd Skynyrd

Set after season 15.

Somewhat canon-divergent.

Catch up on Chapter 1 here

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2: I Just Want A Little Peace Of Mind

This was… not as nice as the Mandarin Oriental. In fact, everything felt outdated and dusty, and the black satin pajama set you were kidnapped in didn’t help you feel any better — it just reminded you of the rapid downhill ride your life was taking. It was something you thought wasn’t even possible:

Everything to get worse.

The room that Castiel guy led you to was smaller than the bathroom of your last suite. While you were used to these kinds of digs back when you were a hunter, being the legendary champion of the First and Second Hunter Games had spoiled you with the perks of luxury. 

And not to mention that with that, you got another room that wasn’t quite yours.

Before you slammed the door in his face, Castiel mentioned that this room was one of the last available in the bunker. Apparently, they’d tried to clean it out, but some things from the previous owner stuck around thanks to the lack of storage space elsewhere.

A bunker. You were stuck in a goddamn bunker.

What a twist! Not only were you trapped in a completely unfamiliar place with strange people and the ex-Queen of Hell, but now you were a hunted target. Barbas wasn’t the type to let things slide.

It had been a couple of days now since you arrived, you assumed. You could hear chatter and occasional movements from other parts of the building, which you figured must be the other hunters Rowena had mentioned.

But somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave the sturdy walls of your room. You didn’t want to face anyone out there, knowing they’d remind you of how you ended up here in the first place, something you never even wanted.

After a day or two of letting your anger fester, you decided enough was enough. Truth be told, boredom was starting to take over. The room didn’t offer much in the way of entertainment. You could work out — a habit that seemed to stick with you even after your captivity…though, to you, this also felt like captivity. 

Still, that didn’t exactly fill up the day.

So, you decided to search the room. Castiel’s words about a previous owner stuck with you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to them. Maybe sifting through the remnants of their stuff would give you some answers… and it might keep you busy for a bit, too.

Boredom and a healthy dose of curiosity got the best of you, and before you knew it, you were rooting through the various storage boxes you’d found tucked away in the corner of the room. They were a mix of old files, random junk, and a few forgotten knick-knacks that looked like they hadn’t seen the light of day in years. You came across a huge stash of R rated magazines, too.

Great.

Then, you stumbled across a stash of clothes that definitely screamed menswear, which now wasn’t much of a surprise to you: old tees, button-ups, and pajama pants that looked like they’d been on a permanent sabbatical from their glory days. Still, they fit the bunker aesthetic far better than your matching set, which was starting to feel like a bit much for this apocalypse-chic vibe. With a reluctant sigh and a ‘why the hell not?’ shrug, you decided to give it a go.

lThe pants were a nonstarter; they dragged behind you like a sad and worn wedding train, so you stuck with your own. But the flannel? Now that was a surprise. It hung loosely on you, the sleeves comically long, but there was something almost charming about it. And nothing a little roll-up sleeve couldn’t fix. The fabric was soft from years of wear, frayed at the cuffs in a way that made it feel like it had lived a hundred lives before landing on your shoulders.

What really sold you, though, was the smell. Despite their worn appearance, the clothes carried a faint, lingering fragrance, woodsy, warm, and somehow very comforting. Whatever its origin, it was soothing enough in this apocalyptic time to convince you the flannel was a keeper.

After your little bunker chic makeover moment, one box caught your eye. It was a bit more organized than the rest, filled with neatly stacked tape cassettes. Most of them were unlabeled, but one tape stood out. The label on it read: 

Dean’s Car Shaking Traxx

Well, that was… something.

Curious, you pried the tape from its resting place and noticed something odd as well: a tape player sitting smugly at the bottom of the box. A little old-fashioned, sure, but it was there. And, lo and behold, there was a set of headphones too, though slightly frayed at the edges but still in one piece. 

They both seemed to be in working condition.

You hadn’t heard any music in what felt like forever, not since Hell decided to make Earth its vacation spot. What was the last time you actually listened to songs for the sheer enjoyment of it? Probably it was with your dad before the Invasion. He used to take you out to concerts, your favorite bands, his favorite bands, on weekends. That tradition started when you turned sixteen, and he surprised you with tickets to an Aerosmith show. It became a regular thing, a tradition you kept up for years until—

You shook the thought away, eager for something that would make you feel normal, even if it was just for a few minutes. 

You plugged in the tape, set the headphones over your ears, and hit play.

“Well, Dean, please don’t be a country guy” you muttered, glancing down at the flannel you were wearing.

The first few chords kicked in, and you couldn’t help but smile.

CCR. 

Up Around The Bend.

You leaned back and thought the tape was crackling slightly, it didn’t matter and you didn’t care. For a moment, you could almost pretend the world hadn’t turned upside down and fish yourself a little piece of peace.

Castiel walked up and down the hallway, clearly waiting for someone. Every now and then, he'd glance at the different rooms and areas in the bunker.

The library was full of hunters, some reading lore books, others chatting casually. A few stayed in their rooms, likely dealing with their own thoughts — that he understood. None of them signed up for this. Others were at the shooting range, either to train for whatever came next or to numb their nerves about the whole situation, the sound of gunshots a clear indicator of it.

He had been running the bunker alone for what felt like ages. Jack was supposed to be back by now, and yet here he was, walking holes into the floor of the building. If he were human, his feet would’ve been screaming by now.

Suddenly, he froze. A familiar voice hit his ears coming from the hall from the west side of the building.

“No, no, explain it to me again” Dean’s voice rang out, equal parts frustrated and confused. “What do you mean Hell invaded Earth? How the hell does that even happen? And where the hell was Rowena—?”

Another voice, Jack’s this time, came. “I told you, Dean. Demons came up earthside, unleashing every monster they could find.”

"When did that even happen?” Sam asked, the confusion clear in his voice.

Castiel took a deep breath and started walking towards them, dreading two facts: one, it’d been Jack knows how long since he met the Winchesters; and two, it seems Kid God didn’t brief them in entirely.

It wasn’t necessarily the reunion he once hoped for.

He rounded the corner, and there they were. Dean, leaning against a table, rubbing his face as if he could somehow erase the last few hours from his brain. Sam, on the other hand, was pacing the room like a human tornado, clearly trying to solve a puzzle that was missing half its pieces and the other half was written in hieroglyphics.

Both of them looked… well, confused and mildly pissed, to put it lightly. But honestly, who wouldn’t be? Their perpetual, much-deserved heavenly nap had been rudely interrupted by yet another apocalypse. They’d dealt with more end-of-the-world scenarios than any human ever should, and now, it seemed they couldn’t even catch a break in the afterlife.

But the second they saw their long-time-no-see friend, everything seemed to stop. Time hung for a beat.

Dean blinked as he caught the eyes of the blue-eyed angel.

"Cas?" his voice cracked slightly, his lips twitching into a genuine smile.

Sam’s face softened too, once he glanced at his old friend.

Dean took a step forward, pulling him into a tight hug. Then, Sam wrapped his arms around both of them, the three of them standing there for a moment in a rare moment of peace. Like the world wasn’t crumbling outside, like there wasn’t a bloody, chaotic mess waiting to tear them apart.

Castiel smiled, a strange nostalgia creeping through his perpetual mind. 

Yet, he cleared his throat as he reluctantly pulled away. "It’s good to see you again, too" His gaze flicked from Dean to Sam. "Though I wish it was in a better situation. I'm sorry we had to interrupt your Heaven. But the world... it’s in chaos. Hell’s on Earth, literally."

Dean pulled back slightly, his grin fading into a more serious expression. "Yeah, I figured this wasn’t gonna be all hugs and ‘how’s afterlife’. Can’t even let a guy rest in goddamn peace."

Then, Jack turned to Cas. “Was everything alright while I was gone?”

The angel nodded, then added, “Rowena’s back as well.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “She brought her, too.”

Jack's smile widened a little as he processed the news. 

“That’s good” He then turned to Sam and Dean with a spark of excitement in his eyes. “Come on. I want you to meet everyone here.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. “Everyone?” he echoed, sharing a quick glance with Dean before the two followed Jack toward the war room.

As they entered the room, the on-going conversation quieted and was replaced by the weight of at least a couple dozen curious stares, all pointing to their direction. Hunters of all kinds were scattered around the room. Some were fairly young, almost teens, a few of them older, battle-worn and their expressions ranged from intrigued to wary, all fixed on the newcomers.

Dean furrowed his brows, his gaze sweeping the crowd. Despite the enormous size of the bunker, the room suddenly felt suffocatingly small. It reminded him of the time they offered their home to the refugees from Apocalypse World — except now, it wasn’t just a handful of people.  This was at least three times that number, maybe more.

He glanced and Sam and then muttered, “Guess we missed the memo about this place turning into Grand Central Hunter Station.”

Sam pointed a glare at him, then turned to Jack. “So… what are we facing here, again?”

Guns N’ Roses blasted through your headphones, drowning out every thought except the music. You made it your mission to listen to every cassette tape you found in the boxes. By the time you hit cassette number three’s flip side, the music was doing its job at making you feel a bit calmer a little too well. Your eyelids got heavier with every riff and before you knew it, you’d dozed off against the headboard. 

The music was loud enough to block out the creak of the door opening, but not the voice that followed.

“Why’s there a chick in my room?” a gruff voice demanded. A pause. Then louder, like the words were physically offensive: “Listening to my damn tapes? Wearing my damn clothes?”

Maybe that last part didn’t bother him as much as the rest, though he wasn’t about to admit it. He was too busy scowling and reminding himself that this room, his room, was supposed to be his sanctuary. Instead, here you were, in his flannel, looking entirely too cozy and he woudln't admit it out loud, but also borderline irresistible for someone squatting in his space.

Or was this Jack’s way of saying, Sorry I yanked you out of Heaven, but hey, thanks for agreeing to help me clean up yet another apocalyptic mess!?

Because if so—

But before Dean could spiral further, you jolted awake at his raised tone. Your heart pounded as your survival instincts kicked in. Adrenaline surged and without fully registering who or what you were looking at, you lunged your fists.

“Whoa!” Dean yelped, stumbling back as your fist connected with his chest. He rubbed the spot but barely flinched, barely feeling anything. It was more the act that bothered him. “What the hell was that for?”

Your breath hitched as you glared at him, still half-asleep and wildly defensive. “Who the hell are you, and why are you in my room?”

“Your room?!” Dean repeated, incredulous. “Lady, this is my—” He didn’t finish before you aimed a swift kick at his shin.

Dean sighed, though it was clear he wasn’t actually hurt. “Okay, seriously, what is your deal?”

“My deal?!” You shot back, breathless and still glaring. “You’re the one creeping around in my room, touching my tapes!”

Dean stopped mid-reach for his cassette player, looking at you with a frown.

“Touching your—?” Dean sputtered, clearly at a loss. “This is literally my room, and you’re wearing my—”

Before things escalated further and you could throw another useless punch in his direction, a firm hand landed on your shoulder.

“Y/N” Castiel’s voice cut in, calm and steady. “This is Dean Winchester. He is, technically, the original owner of this room... and much of what’s in it.”

Your brain paused mid-comeback. You glanced at the man, Dean, then down at the flannel you were wearing, and finally at the stack of tapes you’d been working through.

Wait. This guy made those awesome tapes? This is the guy whose flannel I’m wearing?

Dean didn’t miss the realization dawning on your face.

“Yeah” he said dryly, crossing his arms. “That’s my flannel. And my tapes. And my room.”

Castiel sighed, already sensing the incoming argument. “Dean” he said flatly. “you died.”

Dean turned to him. “Yeah, well, guess what, Cas? I’m back.”

“Technically…”

Dean’s frown deepened. “What?”

“Technically” Castiel continued, “you’re not back in the way you used to be. You’re a spirit now, Dean. You don’t need sleep, which means you don’t need a room.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “‘Scuse me?”

You finally found your voice again, snapping your attention to Castiel. “Wait, wait, what the hell do you mean he died?”

“Y/N—” Castiel started, but you weren’t done.

“No, seriously, what the hell?” you repeated, panic and confusion rising. “Are you saying he’s a ghost? Or, like, a demon or something? How the hell did he even get in here?”

“He is not a demon” Castiel said, cutting you off. “And he’s here because Jack brought him back.”

“Am I supposed to know who this Jack guy is? And why are you saying he ‘brought him back’ like that’s supposed to make this sound less insane?”

Dean threw his hands up in the air, clearly done with you, starting to pace the room. "Great. How is she supposed to be a part of this team if she doesn’t even know who Jack is? Does she even know our lore?” He shot a glance at Castiel, as if begging for some backup, but you weren’t having any of it.

“Do you know my lore?” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. "How about the fact that I literally crawled out of the deepest pits of demon's hell just to survive, and now I'm stuck in this insane supernatural soap opera? Pretty sure I didn’t sign up for this mess.”

Dean stopped pacing and turned to face you. “Listen, princess, I’m not exactly thrilled about this either, but guess what? The world’s ending. Again. And we don’t have time for your pity party.”

“Oh, princess? Real original, flannel boy” you fired back, stepping even closer, toe-to-toe now. “You think you’re so high and mighty because you’ve been doing this longer? Look where it got you! And mewsflash: your tapes aren’t that good.”

Alright, that last part was just you being pity.

Dean gasped like you’d just kicked his puppy. “Not that good?!”

“That’s right, you heard it.”

“You’ve got a big mouth, you know that?”

“And you’ve got a big ego” you snapped back, your pulse inexplicably speeding up as you met his fiery gaze. Up close, you could see the freckles dusted across his face and the slight dots in his green irises, and the way his upper lip curved into a perfect cupid bow. You weren’t sure if you wanted to smack him or just—

“Enough” Castiel interjected, his tone like a bucket of ice cold water thrown on fire. He stepped between the two of you, looking like a frustrated parent breaking up a sibling fight.

Dean and you both took a step back, muttering under your breaths.

“Y/N” Castiel began, his blue eyes meeting yours, his voice calm but firm. “You need to understand. Jack isn’t just anyone. He… well…Jack is… essentially God. Or, at least, the closest thing to God we have now.”

You blinked at him while his words were bouncing around your brain like pinballs. “Wait, what?”

“He’s God” Dean said bluntly, clearly enjoying your disbelief. “The big man upstairs took early retirement for being a shithead, and Jack stepped in to take over. He’s the one keeping this whole crapshow from falling apart.” Dean then leaned toward Castiel, loudly whispering, “So, I’m guessing she also doesn’t know he’s Lucifer’s kid?”

Your eyes shot to Castiel, disbelief written all over your face. “Lucifer’s kid?”

Cas nodded.

“Let me just repeat: wait, WHAT?” You threw your hands up, pacing a small, frustrated circle before spinning back to face them. “So, let me get this straight. Ghost-boy over here” you jabbed a finger at Dean, “is somehow back because the world’s new Devil-God hybrid thought it was a good idea?”

Dean crossed his arms and looked rrather affronted. “Ghost-boy? Seriously?”

“Jack’s not the devil” Castiel said, voice steady and soothing like he was talking to a toddler. “Far from it. He’s actually the one who fixed what Chuck, uh, the former god, broke.”

You let out a slow, sarcastic chuckle. “Oh, sure. The perfect way to fix God’s mess: The Devil’s spawn. Makes total sense.”

Dean let out an exasperated groan. “Alright, you are just impossible.”

“And you are dead” you shot back. “So maybe take a seat, Flannel Casper.”

Dean let out a dry laugh, the kind that oozed disbelief. “Flannel Casper? Oh, that’s real funny. Guess what, sweetheart? This ain’t your room. It’s mine. You’re the squatter wearing my shirt.”

You shot him a glare, tugging the oversized shirt tighter around you. “Well, maybe you should’ve labeled it before you kicked the bucket, Flannel Casper.”

“I swear, if you call me that one more time—”

“What? You gonna haunt me harder?”

“I’m resurrected, not haunting” Dean corrected. “And as much as I’m loving this little spat, Cas is right. Jack’s the real deal. He’s a kid with God-level powers trying to fix what’s broken. Cut him some slack.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving Dean an unimpressed look. “And how’s that working out? Because from where I’m standing, the world’s still a total dumpster fire.”

Castiel sighed deeply, his expression softening a little, clearly happy Dean is at least trying to calm you down now. “We know. We all know. But that’s why we’re here, trying to fix it.” He gave a quick glance toward Dean before turning back to you. “Look, we’re not asking you to like it. Just to… cooperate.”

He paused for a moment, then added, “There’s a meeting tonight at six in the war room. It’s just down the hall.We’d like you to join us.”

He then glanced at Dean and nodded toward the door, silently asking him to lead himself out and let you weigh his words. He sighed, but complied nevertheless.

You narrowed your eyes at his back as he left, but you had to admit, something about the whole situation made you curious. You glanced at Castiel, who was still standing there, his expression unreadable.

“Do we really have God in this bunker?” you asked, finally breaking the silence.

Cas nodded slowly. “Yes. Jack’s on our side. In fact, he’s the one who organized this.”

Your gaze fell to the floor, shaking your head slightly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me" you mumbled in disbelief.

"Believe me, I'm bad at kidding."

He then turned to leave but paused at the door.

“We’ll be in the war room at six. Think about it.”

And with that, he was gone. You leaned back against the door, arms crossed, your mind a whirlwind of frustration, disbelief, and a healthy dose of curiosity.

God-level powers. Devil’s kid. The Great Invasion. It all felt like you were stuck in the worst kind of fever dream. You couldn't decide if you wanted to scream, cry, or run. Or maybe all three.

By six p.m., the war room was packed. Well, almost packed.

You, of course, were missing.

It was the first official meeting for the hunters living in the bunker. Some had been here for over a year, while others had only recently joined. They’d all arrived, courtesy of Castiel, Jack, or whatever angel Jack had managed to charm into playing cosmic Uber. Some unlucky souls, like you, were recruited, or more like brought here without their consent by Rowena. At first, the whole thing had been met with skepticism. And who could blame them? An underground bunker full of demon traps seemed too good to be true. But, given that hunters were now the ones being hunted, this was their best shot at survival.

And now, with you and the Winchesters finally being dragged into the fold, the recruitment process was officially over. They’d rounded up every hunter in sight. The team was complete and now, it was time to figure out what the hell came next.

But none of that really mattered to you. You were currently in your room, headphones in, pretending that a meeting about saving the world was the last thing on your to-do list. Who needs that noise when you could be busy being a reluctant background character in their season finale of Apocalypse: Part 230?

You leaned back in your chair, giving the ceiling a long, judgmental stare. Maybe you’d just sleep through the whole thing. It’s not like you were going to be much help. And honestly, your bed was giving off some serious come lay down and avoid your responsibilities vibes. A good ten hours of sleep sounded like just the thing to get you through the next apocalypse.

Your body, however, had other ideas. Four days of solid room service (courtesy of mystery snack fairy) had only fueled your inner hermit, and the clock on your nightstand didn’t lie: you were starving. You had no intention of facing the others, though.

So, for now, you'd been making it work. Snacks magically appeared at your door. Just a knock, and then bam. A tray of food, like some weird, celestial version of Grubhub. You’d never figured out who was behind it, but you were grateful, even if you missed Rommer's presence sometimes and the meals he brought.

Today, however, there was no knock. No food. No magical snack delivery.

You glanced at the clock again. Six ten.

Your stomach grumbled in protest. Fine. Maybe you’d have to venture out and loot some food yourself. At least with everyone at that meeting Castiel was blabbering about, you might have a shot at swiping something before anyone noticed.

You sighed, dramatically flopping your feet onto the cold concrete floor and headed out of the room.

“This place is like a goddamn maze” you muttered as you wandered down the hallway.

You’d been wandering for what felt like hours, but only was probably a solid five minutes, trying to remember whether you’d just passed the same door for the third time or if you’d entered some cruel parallel dimension where all hallways looked suspiciously identical. At the end of your latest path, you spotted one lonely doorway, and figured, why not?

You stepped into the threshold, but then froze.

And you’d probably still be standing there, wondering what cruel joke the universe had played on you, if not for the fact that what you found on the other side was, well... a bit of a shock.

The room in front of you was packed.

Your eyes scanned the scene: hunters of all shapes, sizes, and moods. Some looked like they had been at it for decades, their faces as hard as their weapons. Others looked more like they were holding on to whatever shred of humanity was left in a world gone to hell. 

So I guess I found the war room, you thought sarcastically.

Your brain had no idea what to do with this. This was the first time you’d stepped out of your room. This was the first time you were actually face-to-face with any of them. Well, all of them.

They were looking back at you, and that, for some reason, scared the shit out of you.

“Is that—” A voice whispered from across the room.

“What the hell is she doing here?” another one piped up, followed by a chuckle laced with disbelief.

“She can’t kiss demons’ asses out of death here” someone else muttered.

Well, isn’t that just peachy? Your reputation had clearly made the rounds before you even had the chance to make an entrance. Perfect.

You had this gut feeling, the kind that whispered, Stay in your room. Don’t go. It’s not worth it. And damn, how you wished you’d listened to it. But hunger had a way of overriding any form of common sense, and now here you were, in the lion’s den.

You clenched your jaw, every fiber of your being screaming at you to turn around and retreat back to your room, where the worst you’d have to face was your own reflection. But instead, you planted your feet firmly in place, squared your shoulders and made an unspoken promise to yourself that you were not going to let their words get to you. You were better than that, right?

Or at the very least you could look like you didn’t care.

The whispers grew louder, the judgment palpable as more people recognized you. A few hunters exchanged glances so loud, they might as well have been shouting.

“She’s gonna get us all killed.”

“Should’ve left her out there where she belongs.”

Nice. A real welcoming crowd.

Dean, sitting at the table and clearly having a moment of ‘where the hell did all this drama come from,’ glanced over at you. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he somehow saw through the tough act you were putting on. Beneath all that bravado, he could see the raw and jagged edges of hurt just begging to break free.

Leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, Dean couldn’t help himself. He turned to Castiel with a mischievous smirk, his voice was dripping with curiosity about you. 

"So, room squatter’s real popular here, huh? What’d they mean she can’t kiss demons’ asses out here?"

“It’s… complicated” the angel replied, just realizing Dean is still a bit behind on this whole story. “She, uh, she won the Hunter Games twice.”

Dean squinted, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Wait, that teen novel from the 2010s? With the guy with the bread name?”

Cas rolled his eyes with a quiet, almost exasperated sigh. “No. Not that. It’s a game demons set up for hunters they capture. They… They fight for their lives in an arena against monsters. And she was very favored by the monster crowd.”

Dean’s face contorted, his brain clearly still struggling to process the concept of Hunter Games, but he kept his mouth shut. His attention shifted back to you, standing there like a lion tamer on the edge of snapping.

Stubborn. Broken. Probably both at once.

It finally clicked. You weren’t just some random face in the room. You’d been through hell. Literally. No wonder the anger radiated off you like a force field. You’d been fighting demons for who knows how long. And now, here you were, in a room full of strangers judging you without even trying to understand you.

You opened your mouth to say something about maybe just finding the kitchen (if this place even had one), but before you could get the words out, you were cut off.

“Welcome! You can take a seat, if you’d like to” Jack offered you an encouraging nod.

For a split second, you froze, staring at the guy like you were trying to solve a riddle. Was this guy, with the warm smile and the kind eyes, really God and Lucifer’s kid? 

And if this kid was truly God… Should you bow? Kneel? Say Hallelujah? Maybe throw in a spontaneous hymn for good measure? You weren’t exactly sure what the protocol was for meeting a divine offspring, but your instincts were telling you that flinging yourself on the floor wasn’t exactly the best approach.

So, you did the only reasonable thing. You followed his simple instructions.

Your feet felt like lead as you stepped into the room, the stares burning into your back even without you actually seeing them. You spotted an empty chair near the edge of the group, far enough from the center of attention but close enough to hear whatever grand plan they were about to lay out.

As you slid into the chair, someone across the table muttered just loud enough to be heard “Hope she doesn’t screw things up.”

Without missing a beat, you shot back.

“Don’t worry. I’ll leave the screwing up to you.”

A few hunters snickered, and the guy who’d spoken, Joe as you later learned, glared at you like he was about to unleash some righteous indignation but ultimately decided against it.

Smart choice.

Dean leaned toward Sam with a smirk. “Feisty. I like it.”

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, he muttered under his breath, “Can we focus, please? Wait…” His eyes narrowed as he glanced at you. “Is that your shirt she’s wearing?”

Dean grinned like a kid caught stealing cookies. “Hot, innit?”

Sam facepalmed, but before the verbal sparring could go any further, Jack stepped in.

“Thank you all for coming to this meeting. Some of you may know me, but for the newcomers, my name’s Jack” he said, his eyes sweeping across the room. “We’re here because this is it. Hell’s armies are growing stronger every day, and we’re running out of time. We have to find a way to stop them before they overwhelm us completely.”

Dean, now leaning forward with his elbows on the table, raised an eyebrow. “Alright. What’s the play? Because I’m guessing you didn’t pull us all together just to give us a ‘rah-rah, go team’ speech.”

Jack gave a faint smile but didn’t lose his serious tone. “As you all know, Hell revolted against Rowena’s new leadership. They didn’t like her reforms, making Hell less about eternal suffering and more about, well… governance.”

Your brows furrowed. 

Wait a damn minute. 

That didn’t match what you’d been told at all. Alright, demons weren’t exactly known for their honesty, but if what Kid God was saying was true, then Rowena’s leadership wasn’t the tyrannical nightmare you’d been led to believe.

Was she… not as bad as Barbas and his demon cronies had painted her?

“Every revolution has a leader” Sam said, clearly still piecing the Great Invasion together in his head. “Who led the uprising?”

“It was a demon named Malgathor.” 

The name poked at your brain just a bit, nagging like an itch you couldn’t scratch. Malgathor. You’d heard that name before. But where?

Before you could follow the thread, it hit you — a sharp and searing pain flashing into and through your skull, so sudden and intense it felt like someone was trying to peel your brain apart from the inside with a crowbar.

Your hands shot to your temples as you squeezed your eyes shut and that’s when you saw it.

A dimly lit room. Fancy but not ostentatious. Mandarin Oriental vibes, but more… utilitarian. Probably somewhere in its basement.

You were sitting in a chair, restrained. Across the room, faceless figures moved, one stepping closer. There was something about him that sent a chill crawling up your spine and you instinctively started to tremble.

And then, a voice.

“Hey!” the figure shouted. Harsh, commanding. “Hey! Are you okay?!”

But the voice twisted as the vision fractured, morphing into something softer. Female.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

You blinked hard, the image shattering like glass as reality crashed back in. The dim light was gone, replaced by the suddenly too bright fluorescents of the bunker. Dozens of eyes were on you, their expressions ranging from concern to confusion.

A blonde woman had her hand on your shoulder. “You okay there?” she asked, her voice cautious, like she was afraid you might snap at any moment.

You swallowed hard.

What the hell just happened?

You straightened, trying to play it off. “Yeah, I’m fine” you muttered, though you were acutely aware of how not fine you looked. Your face was pale, your hands trembling like you’d downed five espressos too many.

Dean’s eyed you from the other side of the table. “Fine? You just looked like someone plugged your brain into a car battery. That doesn’t scream fine to me.”

You shot him a look, equal parts defiant and exhausted. “Where were we?”

Dean frowned, clearly unsettled by your lack of snark. No witty comeback? No biting remark? That wasn’t you, not like he knew much about what was you. But if he learned anything from his one encounter with you was that you never shut up. His eyes stayed focused on you a moment longer and he couldn’t help but catch the slight tremor in your hands that you thought you were hiding so well.

Before he could press further, Sam shifted the focus. “Malgathor?” he said, his brows knitting together in thought. “How come we’ve never heard about him before?”

“Because he liked Fergus’ version of Hell” Rowena’s Scottish accent chimed in.

Your gaze flicked to her and your eyes narrowed instinctively. Something about her perfect red curls and sharply lined crimson lips rubbed you the wrong way, like an itch you couldn’t scratch. But then Jack’s words about her earlier came rushing back. Nobody else in the room seemed suspicious. Hell, they barely batted an eye at her presence.

Was it possible… she wasn’t the villain you’d been led to believe?

“Malgathor had no interest in causing trouble before. Fergus, for all his flaws, kept Hell… predictable. Contracts, misery, order. But when I took over and began implementing reforms, he turned on me. Violently.”

“Reforms?” you asked before you could stop yourself, the word tasting strange in your mouth. “What kind of reforms are we talking about here?”

Rowena’s eyes flicked to you, and for a moment, her expression softened. “I ended crossroads deals, stopped the eternal suffering racket, gave the damned something resembling purpose. Needless to say, it didn’t sit well with the traditionalists.”

You blinked, your brain working overtime to reconcile this version of her with the one you’d been told about by the demons who’d dragged you through hell. Had they lied? Twisted the truth? It wouldn’t be the first time.

“So” Dean said, his voice drawing everyone back. “This Malgathor guy was all-in on the Crowley’s Hell playbook, huh? Contracts, fire, long-ass lines, the whole nine yards?”

“Precisely, dear” Rowena replied, her lips curling into a grim line. “Only now, he’s expanded his vision. No longer content with Hell as it was, he’s decided to extend its boundaries. Permanently.”

Sam straightened, his brow furrowing. “You mean… he’s trying to bring Hell topside?”

Rowena nodded. 

“Not just bring it topside, Samuel. Recreate it. The whole planet, one giant pit of eternal torment, chaos, and misery. He’s determined to make Earth Hell’s crowning jewel — greater than it ever was below.”

You sat back, watching the pieces click into place for everyone else, but your mind was spinning in a different direction. Malgathor’s plan sounded insane, sure, but it also felt oddly familiar. Like you’d heard of something similar before.

“What’s the plan, then?” Dean asked, breaking the tense silence. “How do we stop this Hell wannabe dictator?”

Jack finally spoke. “We need to find his residence. He’s cloaking himself with magic strong enough to evade even me.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Even you? Aren’t you, like, God 2.0? Shouldn’t that come with a built-in demon GPS?”

“It’s not that easy, Dean” Jack said simply, then turned to you. “I may not have the means to find him… but someone might have heard something about him.”

You froze. The sudden shift in attention made your skin crawl. “Oh, no” you muttered, holding up a hand that was still trembling just a little. “Don’t look at me like that. I have no idea who this Malgathor is.”

Joe, that hunter guy from earlier shot his eyebrow up. “Oh, come on, champ. You’ve been cozying up to demons for how long? You’re telling me not one of them dropped Malgathor’s name during happy hour?”

“Cozying up to demons? Is that what we’re calling ‘being tortured and barely surviving’ now?” you snapped at him.

Sam’s eyes flicked between you and Joe, sensing the brewing storm. “Okay, let’s all just—”

“No” Joe cut him off, leaning forward with a smug look on his face and his arms crossed. “I’m serious. If anyone here knows anything about Hell’s A-list psychos, it’s her.”

“Wow, thanks” you shot back, voice laced with venom. “Really nice to know my trauma has made me your go-to demon Rolodex.”

Dean muttered a low, amused yikes under his breath, but Joe either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

Rowena cleared her throat. 

“Perhaps, instead of bickering like children, we could ask the right questions.” Her gaze landed on Joe then softened as it moved to you. It seemed uncharacteristic of her and infuriatingly annoying to you. “Y/N, dear, I understand you’ve been through… well, hell. But even the tiniest scrap of memory could make all the difference.”

“I said” you repeated and drew each word out slowly and sharper than a demon blade. “I. Don’t. Know.”

And with that, you decided this conversation was over.

Next on The Great Invasion (Sneak Peek from Chapter 3):

He picked up the silky fabric that you immediately recognized as your pajama top from earlier. “Except for this. Didn’t take you for a fancy PJ girl… But I gotta admit, this looks nice.”

But my shirt looks better on you, he thought, as he placed the black satin on the chair next to you.

“Dean… I swear, if you don’t get the hell out of here—”

Instinctively, your hand shot under the bed, grabbing the box of rock salt you’d stashed there for just such occasions.

“Woah, no need to get antsy” he said, moving his hands up in surrender.

You chuckled, glancing at the salt in your hand with a wicked smirk. “Wait, does this really work on you?” You raised an eyebrow.

Hey, you! Yeah, I’m talking to you. Looking fantastic in his shirt. 😉

All jokes aside, I hope you had fun reading Chapter 2 of The Great Invasion. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 3: coming soon!

🤍Series taglist🤍

@thebiggerbear @spnaquakindgdom @artyandink @globetrotter28 @kaz-2y5-spn @hobby27 @lamentationsofalonelypotato @muhahaha303 @yeehawgiddyup13 @applelovesposts

🤍Jensen taglist🤍

@roseblue373

[lvrrgirlll]

Tolerate It (series)

Synopsis: Life as Patrick Zweig’s controversially young girlfriend should have been a dream, but it was anything but. He was a broken man. You were a girl who knew all too well. Who’s to say whether you’ve got it wrong now…

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Pairing: Patrick Zweig x reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: angst, reader is jealous and somewhat paranoid, references to cheating, creepy old men hitting on reader, both Patrick and reader get much needed wake up calls…

Notes: This entire part is kind of frustrating BUT it’s so necessary in the progression of the story y’all! It will all come together trust!! (Also I’m on Thanksgiving break soon so I’ll be able to write more)

Previous part

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Part 3: Things fall apart

2029:

Weeks before you two had agreed to the interview, you already knew Patrick was going to retire. It hadn’t been announced at that point, but you knew. It had come after a particularly bad fight.

“But you don’t understand, Patrick! You’re not listening to me! It’s not easy for me, I feel like I drop everything to be there for you all the time. When was the last time you honestly did anything for me?” You shouted at him, frustrated at the fact that you were even having this fight. He had complained that you didn’t seem so supportive of him going for a spot in Wimbledon in the upcoming season, which you hadn’t been because you were tired of traveling all the time and being alone during the day while he practiced incessantly. That didn’t seem so hard to understand to you. He had won several titles over the past few years. What was one other?

“Oh, I don’t do anything for you? Who payed for the house we’re in right now? Who bought you that dress? Who bought that huge fucking rock on your finger?” He fired back angrily. You hated fighting like this. It always reminded you of the power imbalance between the two of you.

2020:

After finding out what you did, you decided not to confront Patrick. It must’ve been your mistake. You wrote it off as foolish assumption on your part. In your gut, though, you knew better.

You two went on like normal for a while. He went back on tour for a bit. With this newfound information, you definitely called him more often than before. He didn’t seem to mind though, which honestly surprised you for a bit. You half worried about annoying him, seeming like just some ridiculous kid, but at the end of the day, you did really care about him, and would do anything to make sure he stayed with you.

On a cool, Spring Saturday evening you called him, knowing he shouldn’t be busy given the time. Much to your dismay, though, no answer. Fuck. So you called him again. Still no answer. Doing what any rational person would, you checked his location. He was at some bar. You felt defeated. Surely he was with some whore. Then a terrible, horrible idea came to you. What if you drove out to where he was playing? What if you drove out to that bar? …No, you couldn’t. But then again…it was a Saturday night. You weren’t busy. And he was far, but realistically, not that far. A 4 hour drive. So maybe he wouldn’t be at the bar by the time you got there…but then again, maybe he would be? Your curiosity jealousy got the best of you as you grabbed your keys, slipping on your shoes and heading out to your car.

You drove like a bat out of Hell, surely speeding, but you hardly cared. You were fueled by your paranoia. What was he doing at some random dive bar? Why wasn’t he answering your calls? You intended to get answers to both of these questions.

Driving so quickly, you shaved a whole hour off the drive, arriving at the run down looking bar a little past midnight. When you got there you parked, slamming the door before marching into the building with purpose. Upon entering, you took in your surroundings. It was dim, most light coming from neon signs for different beer brands. There were a few pool tables off in one corner, an empty stage, and the bar, which looked to be the type that really only served beer or whiskey. Why on earth would Patrick even be at a place like this? He’s gotta be with some girl…

It wasn’t too busy. There were a few older looking guys at the end of the bar, not “older” like Patrick— actually older— and several ladies who looked to be in their 40s, loudly cheering with margaritas in hand. Still no sign of Patrick. You were still stood by the door, looking down at your phone to check his location, which still pinpointed him right at the bar, when you noticed the older men leering at you.

“Hey princess, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing here,” one of the men hollered. You tried to avoid eye contact, walking further into the bar and therefore away from them. There were several guys who looked to be closer to Patrick’s age crowded around the pool tables, so you walked in that direction, hoping Patrick was among them. With your luck, however, none of the dark, curly haired men were Patrick.

“What’s your name sweetheart,” one of them purred, leaning on his pool cue and eyeing you up and down. You felt uncomfortable, but definitely safer here than with the old guys from the front.

“Um- I’m looking for my, uh, boyfriend. He’s been here for a while, supposedly, and I was just kind of worried about him. H- have you seen a guy like this?” You turn your phone, then, showing off your lock screen which is a picture of you and Patrick cuddling in bed.

The man laughs in response, nodding his head in the direction behind you. “There’s your man, but uh, I don’t know if you’ll wanna see him…” he said smoothly, with a sense of pity filtering through his words. Your heart sank before you even turned around, and everything felt like it had just become slow motion. You turned around, seeing Patrick in a dark corner making out with another girl. You could hardly see her with his hands all over her face, but she looked to be sort of young like you. What the fuck?

“Hey, I’m sorry-“ the man behind you offered, but you walked away from him without another word. You approached Patrick quickly, reaching him finally. Despite your loud steps against the creaky wooden floor, neither he nor the girl he was currently kissing turned in your direction. Before you could even think of a strategy, you just let out a defeated assertion.

“Patrick.” His eyes immediately opened as he practically pushed the girl off of him, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Fuck, uh, what are you doing here?” That was all he could offer?

“You didn’t answer my call,” you replied as if it was the simplest thing in the world. You weren’t even sure why this hurt so much. You knew he was fooling around on tour…it was just something about him avoiding you to do so that really got you. The whole thing got to you, honestly, but you had been kidding yourself for months. It just finally fell apart.

“So…you came to my fucking location,” he questioned, looking at you with wide eyes. ‘He thinks I’m crazy…’ you thought. You looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t want to cry here in this stupid dive bar in the middle of nowhere in front of him and his girl of the night.

“I didn’t know what else to do…I- I was worried,” your words were shaky as you spoke, your lip quivering. The girl he was with had walked away at this point, presumably assessing the situation enough to decide that it was best for her to leave. Patrick’s expression had changed from shock to pity.

“Baby, c’mere I’m so sorry…come on,” he tried to pull you into a hug, but you pushed him away.

“No Patrick, I don’t- I don’t want to just hug and forgive you all over again,” you sniffled, looking at him not with anger, nor sadness, but betrayal.

“Again?” He asked, looking confused.

“I saw your texts with that other girl from Savannah months ago when you came to visit. I’ve known for a while…” you murmured quietly. His eyes widened again, clearly shocked by this information.

“Shit- uh, you saw that? Fuck- why didn’t you say so sooner, oh my god.” You looked at him and no longer saw that man who could’ve hung the moon and stars. Now when you looked at him, you saw him how he saw himself: a pathetic loser who was in need of a serious reality check.

“Fuck you Patrick. I’m done.” With that, you moved to leave the bar, but he gripped your wrist as you turned, stopping you. “Let go of me,” you ordered, looking at him sternly as tears rolled down your cheeks. He did as you said, letting you go before chasing after you. In the parking lot he met you by your car, leaning on the door to keep you from leaving. “Move,” you muttered angrily.

“Baby, come on, just tell me what I can do. I can change, really, I promise. Please, I don’t wanna lose you.” It felt like bullshit, but it was honestly the truth. You were the most consistent thing he’d had in his life for a long, long time. I mean, hell, you two had been together for 9 months now. For him, that was like forever.

“You want to change, Patrick? Really, you want to change? Well here’s some advice then: get your shit together. I don’t care what you have to do. Go talk to your rich old daddy, ask him for a loan, and actually get back to where you deserve to be in your career. Fix your fucking relationship with your friends, because I know there’s still something there that you won’t tell me about, and I’m sick of it. And finally, actually learn how to be a good boyfriend. Don’t be such a man whore, it’s really not as attractive as you think it is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving. Give me a call when you’re a changed man.” And with that, he silently moved out of your way, watching you get in your car and reverse, leaving him standing there alone in the parking lot.

[deathbxnny]

☆《A letter away. (Neuvillette x Reader x Ex-husband!Zhonghli)》☆

-----♡

A/N: Hello everyone! This is me officially coming back through a very special request! I was thinking of a good way to get back into writing and so I asked my best friend, my ride or die, my literal everything to give me something to write about. And since I know she loves Neuvillette alot, this is my official thank you to her for being a phenomenal friend and waif. Also, HSR requests will come in due time, after I get used to writing again. So without further ado, please enjoy and thank you again to my bestie for helping me with my comeback!<33 Summary: Zhongli wanted to embrace his new life as a human to the fullest, which also meant that his dragonic wife couldn't be in it. Heartbroken and hopeless, you feel abandoned as you wonder what you should even do now, after eons of being with him... until one day, you receive a letter from an old friend, that finally showed you the way forward again. Content: Female reader, some angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of divorce (kind of), reader has some physical descriptions that hint to them being a dragon hybird, Zhongli being horrible, some hints of possible emotional abuse (no detailed descriptions), happy ending, somewhat of a healing journey, writing warm up, sfw

Reader has she/her pronouns! (Not really proofread)

-----♡

The summer came to an end early this year and not because of the seasons changing, but rather your husband doing so. Despite the scorching heat that left the usually busy streets of Liyue mostly empty, you felt the cold seep through your skin, whenever he came back from work. You'd shiver, nearly imagining the cold puffs of air whenever he passed you by wordlessly. You only barely remember the days of happy greetings and warm welcomes, but perhaps you were only imagining those too. You felt like a simple shadow in your own home, always disappearing from the presence of the light that was Zhongli's intimidating figure.

And today was no different.

He walked in, took off his coat, then his shoes. He paid no mind to you hiding in the doorway to the kitchen, slitted eyes flickering between him and the food he brought with him, despite you telling him that you were going to cook for him earlier that day. You should've known better, than to think that he was listening to you after all. You opened your mouth to greet him, but your voice was missing. You didn't want him to snap at you again for making him awknowledge you. Slowly retreating back into the dim room, you shivered when you felt his dark gaze on you. You made too much noise for someone who was just a ghost in his home now.

It couldn't always have been like this, you concluded, as you stood over the now cold food on the table. No, there was a time where you two were happy, mates for life. He built a home for you in Liyue, kept you protected during the archon wars, practically laid out the world down at your feet... until he didn't. Until he became this. A god who wanted to pretend to be a human for a reason nor you or any other adepti could ever understand. You weren't able to hide most of your dragonic features like he could and therefore you were mostly stuck in the home. Human men usually didn't have dragons as wifes, you figured bitterly. But he was no human, no matter how much he wanted to pretend he was.

He gave up his Gnosis and decided that faking his death would get him closer to living his ideal life amongst his people as nothing more than Zhongli. And you hated that name. That wasn't your husband. Maybe he had died years ago and you simply didn't notice. Whatever it was, you felt empty as the last warm sun rays of the day hit your face and you slumped into the nearest chair with a weak sigh. Deep down, you knew you were a hindrance to him. Something that kept him from becoming fully human. And it hurt, that he was willing to give you up so easily over this.

Weren't dragons supposed to mate for life?

You pressed your face against the cold surface of the table, your eyes catching the sight of a white envelope resting on the kitchen counter. Your tail swished once in recognition, before stilling. You knew who it was from, your heart clenching nervously at the idea of Zhongli seeing it. He wouldn't like who it was from, surely. But then again, he didn't seem to care anymore either. If you left tommorow, what would he say? Would he stop you? Beg for you to come home with him again? You pressed your lips into a thin line. He would have maybe once eons ago... but not anymore.

It was proven to you, when your zoned out gaze on the letter was blocked off by a certain man's torso. You didn't bother raising your head or looking up at him. If he was finally awknowledging you now, then it was only for one reason you were afraid of. Your time with him was up. He began a speech, one you could barely hear through the foggy haze of your mind, until he stilled too. There was no point to sugarcoat it. "... I want you gone by morning." He simply said, knowing that you at least caught those words. He turned, deciding to leave for the house whilst you were still there, when you enacted your final attempt at revenge. It was weak, nothing in comparison to what he had done. But it was enough to enrage him deep down.

"Very well, Morax." You made sure, that his old name rolled off your tongue perfectly, cutting him deep with the knowledge, that you will never see him as a human. He paused in his step and you could imagine the way he clenched his jaw when you closed your eyes with a bitter chuckle. Your keen ears heard the leather straining as he closed his fists tightly. You felt his head turn to look at you, his breath hitching to say something... before he simply left, the door slamming behind himon his way out. It was hard to make him lose his composure, but you knew him all too well. He was too prideful even now.

When you opened your eyes again, it was late into the night. You lit a candle, your eyes flickering to the letter again. You had yet to open it. perhaps you were afraid of it's contents, despite having no need to. You always knew, that you should've chosen him instead anyways. You weakly pushed yourself up onto your feet, your hand reaching for the letter. You turned it, a shadow of a smile on your lips, when you see your old nickname on the back of it. Neuvillette remembered it even all these years later.

'To my dear Water Lily.'

You opened it with shaking hands, your eyes looking over it's contents with a worried gaze, that melted away the more you read. It was an invitation to come visit him all the way in Fountaine. He had hoped you were still wiling to speak to him despite your marriage to Morax- no, Zhongli. You were childhood friend's once, two dragons that kept to themselves in the depth of the oceans, until the wars came along. You should've married him when you had the chance, but Zhongli got to you first. Would you have married him instead, if he hadn't hesistated?

You shook your head, your hands pressing the letter to your chest. To your heart. You might as well go. You had nothing to lose anymore. slipping off the ring on your finger and placing it onto the table, you packed some simple things for the trip, before stepping out of the once warm home. You walked quickly, your head low to not attract any attention. You'll never come back to Liyue, you decided then. But you couldn't help but stop for a moment to look back at your home city with a deep, heartbroken sigh. Mainly because you felt a certain Adepti's gaze on you. You looked up, meeting his eyes with a sad, pained frown. Xiao's face was unreadable, but you knew, that he knew that this might be the last time you saw eachother. And so, all he could do was bow deeply, before disappearing. You nod in understanding.

There was no need for goodbye's, as they hurt more.

You went on to travel for a good month straight, seeing sights you could never have been able to witness at Zhongli's side. You met new people, even friends, as you traversed through the thick forest of Sumeru, no one giving your inhuman features a second look. Sumeru city was a sight to behold, the Archon of wisdom being kind enough to point you towards the direction of your destination. The vast desert was an experience you never thought you'd appreciate either. And by the time you finally stood at the port to Fountaine's entrance, you couldn't help but look back at Sumeru with a fond gaze, lost in thought, until a something pulled at your sleeve.

Looking down, you saw a Melusine tilt her head up at you. "Hello... Do you need help getting somewhere, miss? You've been standing here for about an hour now." She said bluntly, making you blink, before fishing out the letter with a hum. "I... need to meet the Chief of Justice." You mutter, the small creature nodding in understanding, as though this was a normal request for her. "That's easy. You just have to take the Aquabus to the city first." "Oh..." Your eyes looks up at the large wall of waterfalls with a confused gaze. "... Do you know what an Aquabus is?" "I... no." You say after a moment of hesistation, making the Melusine nod again. "Follow me then. I'll get you to your destination, miss." She said.

And as promised, you soon enough nervously sat in this so-called Aquabus, waving the helpful Melusine a thankful goodbye. the ride was long, yet far from boring for your curious eyes. You had become near addicted to the thrill of adventure, to the thrill of seeing things you could never have been able to before. Perhaps you've just been trapped for way too long. An excited smile crossed your face, when you finally arrived in the busy capital city of Fountaine. You felt out of place, but couldn't care for it through the glee you felt. He was so close, you could feel it. And it made you wonder if he felt it too. You entered the large building that he was the leader of, a Chief of Justice, something you never expected him to ever become. But then again, you never expected to end up like this either, although you should've perhaps known better.

You were let through quicker than you anticipated, after you showed them the ticket that came with the letter. A Melusine led you to a grand balcony that oversaw the entire city, before telling you that he'd be there soon. You leaned against the marble railing, eyes sparkling at the breathtaking sight before you. Your heart fluttered with an odd sense of belonging, memories of a childhood spend in vast oceans coming to mind and filling you with painful nostalgia.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" A deep voice hummed, a soft gasp leaving your lips, as you looked up at the familiar tall man beside you. You were so deep in thought, that you hadn't noticed his presence approaching you. You gulped, so many emotions and thoughts running through your head. There was so much you wanted so say. But ultimately, you could only turn to look back at the vast ocean with a small smile, when you felt his pinky finger touch yours. A silent promsie of being here for you. Always.

"Yes... Yes, it is."

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A/N: Alrightttt! This was a very nice warm up for me and quite the long one too... I hope you guys liked this one! And a special thank you to my bestie once more for being my favourite person ever and giving me this great idea.

It's great to be back!<33

[onskepa]

Could you do a human x sulys reacting to her tattoo. It could be a medusa one but if you have a better idea for a tattoo, use that!

Okie, I searched far and wide and I found a good one! Enjoy!

P.S: I will try to not be super specific on where the tattoo is placed, I leave that to your imagination

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Slukx

It was a hot day in the forest, seasons are not normal in Pandora but what they are going through can be somewhat called ‘summer’. It was also a wonderful time where the water in lakes, rivers, ponds, lagoons all are nice and cool. Perfect to beat the heat. So that is where the sully family had an idea. The children invited their close friends to join in as well. 

Neytiri knew the perfect spot where it was spacious for everyone, safe and had a beautiful view of the waterfalls. Even fish if they get hungry. It was going to be a fun day that everyone looked forward to. 

“CANONBAAAAAAAAALL!!” Jake shouts out as he jumps into the water, causing a massive splash. His kids all laugh happily and start to splash him. Neytiri makes sure all the items are set before joining in with her family. 

She looks back, beckoning the family friend.  

“Slukx, come, the water is clear and very refreshing” she says. 

Slukx nods as she starts to take off her outer clothes, leaving only her swimming outfit.

“I'm going, i'm going” she replies, making sure she is set, she climbs up from where Jake launched himself and jumps into the water as well. Swimming to where everyone was at, slukx reamurges up for air. 

“Wow, this is nice,” she compliments. 

“What is that???” tuk asks, her eyes wide. Everyone else all staring at the same spot. Slukx looks at them confused. 

“What is what?” she asks. 

“That” kiri points to a certain area of her body. 

“Is that a tattoo?” Jake asks. 

“Oh, yeah, it's a tattoo” slukx replies simply, not seeing a big deal about it. She tries to swim away but gets dragged back. 

“How come we have never seen this tattoo before?” Jake asks as he holds slukx. 

“I don't see the big issue” she replies. 

“Nonsense, tattoos are sacred here. Is it the same for sky people? Making a mark of achievement in the form of ink?” Neytiri asks. Slukx and Jake share a look. 

“Something like that, yeah” Jake answers. 

The kids get closer to observe the tattoo in great detail. 

“Its so cool!” 

“Weird patterns” 

“Why that shape?” 

“They look like fangs!” 

“Does it have meaning?” 

The kids wouldn't stop asking, needing to know. Slukx chuckles as she gently silences them. “Look, I get you all want to know, but for now I just want to swim around. We came here to enjoy ourselves. So let's do that, yeah? Later I promise to explain the meaning behind my tattoo”. 

Everyone seemed to agree and continue on with their swimming. However, from time to time the kids can't help but get closer to stare at the ink itched on her skin. 

Night came, after fishing everyone was having their fill. Enjoying good roasted fish with berries and clean water. Sharing funny moments anyone can recall, Jake and Neytiri sharing their stories of their younger years and so on. 

Fire was light, bringing warmth and light to their small area. Overall the fun is still going until they pass out. 

Until then, slukx was enjoying her meal when she couldnt ignore 5 sets of oogling eyes. 

“Yes? Do you need something?” she asks without needing to turn her head. 

“Soooo….about the tattoo” spider drags his words a bit. 

“You promised you would tell us!” tuk pushes a bit as she crawls close to see the tattoo again. 

“Alright, I did promise” slukx gives in. The children cheer and gather in front of her, jake and Neytiri doing the same. All eyes and ears on her. So, clearing her throat, she begins to explain the reasoning and meaning behind her tattoo.

“This symbol is called ‘Odin’s three horns’. It is from an old legend, like a thousand year old legend. From an era called ‘the iron age’” slukx begins to explain. 

“Vikings, just say vikings” jakes slightly interrupts her with a none impressed expression. Neytiri lightly hit his head as she hissed, “silent, let her talk”. 

“Thank you neytiri, now as I was saying. Yes, Vikings were the ones who created this symbol” slukx goes on. 

“What are vikings??” Kiri asks. 

Slukx boops her nose, “that's for another time” 

“Anyways, the Odin’s three horns have a very unique meaning. One that I believe I reflect myself upon” she goes on. 

Neteyam gets closer, “what does it mean?” he asks. 

Slukx points to each horn, “pursuit of knowledge, wisdom, and inspiration. I have come a long way net. To learn, to grow, and to find new paths. Much like all of you”. 

“Beautiful…” Neytiri was sort of awe struck. The symbol was odd, but the meaning is amazing. 

“There is also a story behind it too” 

“Yes! Story time!!” tuk cheers as she snuggles up next to slukx. Everyone gets into a much more comfortable position to hear the story. Clearing her throat, slukx begins to tell. 

“The myth says that the triple horn was once real, and it contained a source that if consumed, those who drink it will have…”

I might, might not link this story to a future fic! But! I hope you are ok with the symbol I chose, I thought it would fit more with the story. Hopefully you enjoyed it! Until next time! See ya!

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Slukx = Horn of animal