#am I about to make this a series… maybe

[mugglebornmarvelite]

hi, girly girl ♡♡♡

i’m re-reading your grumpy!bucky x sunshine!reader series (bc of course i am) and i was wondering, if you’re taking requests, what your thoughts are about:

💭 something happening to sunshine!reader, during a mission or something else, and she’s emotional (maybe hurt) and frantically asking for bucky. cue extra-protective!grumpy!bucky.

k love u bye

hi, babe :))

it started out as thoughts and I worked it into a lil something something

love you more <3

You came? You called.

Pairing: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)

Summary: The team’s brightest light shatters after a mission gone wrong, and only one person can put her back together.

Bucky Barnes :)

Word Count: Roughly 900 words 

Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injuries mentioned (barely), mentions of blood, overprotective and soft Bucky, physical and emotional distress, a lil bit of angst (but just a pinch)

Author’s Note: I don't know where I was going with this, but I tried :(

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Divider by: @strangergraphics

You’re not supposed to cry.

You're supposed to sparkle. 

You're supposed to laugh like you’ve never tasted bitterness, bounce off the walls like gravity never quite applied to you, and leave glitter bombs and rainbow cupcakes in your wake. 

You're the sunshine of the team, the chaos incarnate with fingers covered in icing from baking every other day, held together by too much energy and not enough fear.

But right now, you’re sobbing, shaking so hard it rattles your bones.

The safe house is too quiet. 

Too sterile. 

You hate the quiet.

Your world is made of giggles and explosions and yelling at Tony for calling you “a walking serotonin factory,” like it’s not the biggest compliment ever.

Steve’s kneeling next to you, his voice is soft, words calm and even, like a warm blanket. 

Nat’s crouched just behind him, her clothes smeared with blood that’s not hers. You know what that means. She already got them, the ones who hurt you.

But none of that matters.

You want him.

“Bucky,” you whisper softly, the name tumbling out between hiccups.

Steve tries to soothe you. “He’s coming, sunshine. He’s on his way.”

But that only makes it worse. It hurts, how badly you need him. The tight, aching space in your chest pulses with panic.

You try to push yourself off the couch even though your leg won't work right. The pain flares, sharp and hot, but not as bad as the panic clawing through your ribs. “I need him now. Please. I want Bucky.”

Your voice breaks, shatters into something raw and desperate.

Steve looks helpless. Even Captain America doesn’t know how to hold back the sun when it starts to implode.

Nat lays a hand on your shoulder. Her touch is light but firm. “He’s coming,” she says quietly. “He’s already ripping apart the walls to get to you.”

That sounds like him.

It helps, but not enough. 

The tears keep coming, stupid and hot, blurring everything. Your fingers grip the blanket around you, but it’s not what you want. 

You want metal and leather and the calloused hands that catch you midair when you launch off rooftops without a second thought. You want the gruff voice that mutters complaints when you bounce in front of him, bright and too close, but never pulls away.

You want Bucky.

And then he’s there.

Steve barely gets out of the way before Bucky’s next to you, metal hand cupping your cheek like you’re made of something too precious to break.

“There you are,” he breathes. “Sunshine, what did they do to you?”

Your hands reach out to grab him, clutching at his jacket, his shoulder, his neck, anything that’s him. 

You curl into him like a sunflower searching for sunlight, burying your face in his chest and gasping like you can’t breathe without him. 

He smells safe. 

Like home.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” you sob into him. “I was so scared. I thought…”

He’s already wrapping around you, his flesh hand holding the back of your head, metal arm tucking you into him, so close there’s no space between your body and his. “Shh. I’m here, baby. You’re safe now. I got you. Nobody’s touching you ever again.”

You nod, even as the tears soak through his shirt. His lips press to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. Like, if he kisses you enough, he can erase what happened.

“You’re late,” you whisper, your voice trembling and watery.

“I know, dollface,” he murmurs, his voice cracking at the edges. “I should’ve been faster.”

Steve clears his throat, somewhere behind you. “Maybe give her a second to breathe, Buck.”

“I am breathing,” you mutter into Bucky’s neck, your voice muffled but stubborn.

Bucky glares at Steve. “She wants me, she gets me. End of story.”

Nat smirks from the corner, arms crossed. “She was begging for you like the world was ending.”

“She’s my world,” Bucky shoots back without hesitation.

He tilts your chin up gently, and when your glassy eyes meet his, he winces. “Look at what they did to my baby,” he whispers. “Your face. Your leg...” He trails off, breathing hard, like he might go find the bastards and rip them apart again just for good measure.

“Nat already got them,” you say, sniffling, managing a tiny smile. “Bet she looked really cool doing it, too.”

“I wanted to be the one to end them,” he mutters darkly.

You tug on his sleeve. “You’re here now. That’s better, the best thing ever. Promise.”

He melts at that, just enough. His forehead presses to yours. “You scared me, you little menace.”

“I scare everyone,” you mumble, eyes drooping as the exhaustion catches up with you. “But you always come back.”

“Always, sunshine.” He kisses the tip of your nose, holding you like you’re breakable. “You’re my favorite chaos.”

You hum, smiling sleepily at him, and he has to look away so he doesn’t fold. “I like when you call me that.”

“I’d like it even more if you didn’t almost get yourself killed,” he mutters. “No more solo missions. No more running ahead without backup. No more playing bait.”

“But I’m good bait,” you protest, nuzzling into his chest.

“I don’t care. No more.” His voice is final. His grip is absolute. “You’re sticking with me.”

And maybe that sounds like a means of control to anyone else.

But you? You just smile.

Because you’re safe. 

Because he’s here.

Even the brightest light needs a shadow to guard it.

And Bucky Barnes is your favorite one.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

- Maeve

Tags: @princess-lil-spidey @sapphirebarnes @mgchaser @sparklystarsandstrawberries @arcadia-smith @rnurse-kole @juliebluehufflepuff @sailorsenshiuranep @alexxavicry @ficcharsimp @winchestert101 @thatesqcrush @bamitzzsam @grubler @peaches1958 @helen-2003 @ickearmn @Kimmie113080 @Xgbtmdmx @buckysbunnie @Shower-me-with-roses @pigeonmama @civilbucky @piinksdoll @desimarie12 @sleepysongbirdsings @barnesb420 @Suffereroflife @pigeonmama @yes-ilovetowrite @shadowstar1072 @serenaivy

[five-thirtyfive]

“not a lot, just forever”

plot summary: the pair break up six months into paige’s rookie year and azzi’s final year at uconn. this is the story of how everything falls apart before they find their way back home.

authors note: okay this may or may not turn into a series depending on if people like it + my motivation. let’s see. please let me know if you actually enjoy reading this or i may assume i am just speaking to the void which is kind of embarrassing anyways hahah

PART ONE - PAIGE.

they break up on an uncharacteristically humid and rainy afternoon in September, exactly six months after they started living one thousand seven hundred miles apart. paige feels like her heart is being ripped out of her chest and it doesn’t matter that she had heard the warnings before, that long distance is hard and that its impossible to make it work when you’re young..she always figured they were the exception - Paige and Azzi- and their incredible love story. she can barely believe it, that they could make it work at sixteen, two naive girls who barely knew what love meant but wanted it enough to start their first ever relationship hundreds of miles apart, but failed so horrifically at twenty three.

it’s really bad honestly, an amalgamation of missed texts turning into missed facetimes and small arguments turning into big fights, until paige realises that azzi’s flown to dallas exactly three times since pre-season, and all three times, had ended in some kind of apology from either one of them. it comes to a standstill with azzi lingering on paige’s doorstep, carrying a bag of her own clothes she'd never even unpacked (despite her usually never bringing her own clothes when near paige’s wardrobe….paige thinks in hindsight that azzi bringing her own clothes was maybe a sign, azzi’s subconscious telling her that this time, she is done). there’s tears and yelling and it's almost unbelievable, because they never yell, at least never at each other. they hurl foreign grenades they don’t mean (at least, paige knows she doesn’t mean the awful things spewing from her mouth, but she can’t seem to stop it happening anyway) and it’s the bloodbath that never ends, going and going and going until finally, azzi’s slamming the door and storming out of paige’s shitty dallas apartment.

it feels final, the way it rattles and echoes, before the apartment is completely silent. azzi’s soft giggle, her feigned annoyance at paige’s antics, her uninhibited moans that once filled every inch of the space a ghost of the past. she’s gone and it’s over. they’ve had fights, of course. you can’t spend 8 years together and not have them. but every time, they’ve communicated, worked it out and come back stronger. looking back, paige knows that it wasn’t like this - those were the trial runs, and this is the real fucking deal.

paige just sort of collapses right there in her hallway, crumpling into a ball on the wooden floorboard as she cries and cries and cries, the tears streaming down her face echoing the relentless rain pouring outside. she thinks about speaking to God for solace, the way she always does, but she’s realises that she can’t. she realises that she’s angry at Him, so angry she can’t even feel Him. she looks for God, but the sky is empty. it almost breaks her. it sets her tears off all over again.

it’s embarrassing and pathetic and awful yet paige can’t find it in herself to care, not even when she hears the faint buzzing coming from her right pocket, her mum facetiming her. she’s unsure how much time has passed, seconds or minutes or hours or days, as she answers the call.

“paige, i’m just got a text from azzi asking me to tell you she’s at the airport, what’s going-” amy stops when she sees paige, tears streaming down her face that she can’t be bothered to wipe off. amy takes one look and blanches - she knows, of course she knowns. theres only one thing in the world it could be, one thing that could break paige so completely, and for not the first time she placates and placates and curses herself for being so far away from her daughter. her baby girl who looks as if in physical pain, wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to keep her heart inside her chest.

“paige? tell me whats wrong sweetie?” she sounds like she is trying to stay calm but her voice has a frantic edge to it and paige knows she must be in a state for her mum to sound like that.

“its…i… we-” and that’s all she can get out because how does she explain that she and azzi are over? the love of her life, her other half for the better part of a decade has left and isn’t coming back.

“okay, it’s okay sweetheart, we don’t have to talk about it, alright? let's get up and maybe go to bed, whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”

that just sets paige off all over again, making her cry harder, because it is categorically not okay, it will never be okay, and there is nothing she can do or anything her mum can say to make it okay. amy watches over a feeble iphone screen as her eldest daughter makes it to her bed, curling into the corner and pulling the blanket (that she had bought specifically for azzi’s visits, knowing the girl is immune to the texan heat) over herself. it makes it hurt more, to smell her on the fabric that they were wrapped up in together not even twenty four hours ago, watching love island and judging the terrible relationships and even more terrible breakups. she does it anyway.

tears are still running down paige’s cheeks but they’re silent now, the sobs ebbing into hiccups and she thinks she must have been crying in the hall for a long time because she’s exhausted all of a sudden.

“you’re okay sweetheart” her mum says, and paige hears her voice full of relief. she feels bad in some corner of her mind that isn’t filled with azzi, azzi, azzi, for scaring her. 

paige gulps, knows she needs to rip the bandaid off, claw it off her skin, and it's with that that she clears her throat and then just spits the words out, fast and broken “me and azzi have split up.”

and there it is, the truth, out in the open. the thing paige swore would never happen, the thing she brushed off every time someone told her that teenage love doesn't last. it feels impossible, but it’s not and now her mum knows and she doesn’t even have an explanation to give her.

“paige… i can’t - are you sure?” amy asks, stunned, even though she knew, like it was the last thing she’d expected her to say.

“yes mum i’m pretty fucking sure” paige says, angry and hurt, furious with herself, with azzi, with god, with the whole fucking world. 

“it’s just…you two always sort these things out…”

she knows her mum means well, that she loves azzi like she’s her own daughter, but hearing this isn’t helping, because she was there, and it was different this time. the words ‘if im such an inconvenience, maybe we should just fucking end things!’ still ringing in her ears, azzi’s voice loud and resentful and then paige had lost it, devastated and furious that the words had even come out of azzi’s mouth like they cost her nothing, and she had replied with ‘you know what, maybe we fucking should’ and that had been that, the words that cost her everything, the catalyst for them to shout every single hurt that has been building for months at each other.

“it’s over mum and i don’t want to talk about it okay. i just want to go to bed and be rested for practise” and cry some more without upsetting you is what she doesn’t say.

“okay okay, i’m sorry. try to get some rest okay? i'll call you tomorrow, maybe things will look better in the morning.”

after reassuming and re-reassuring her mum that she’ll be okay, she hangs up the phone. paige only takes a second to stare at the find my app, her eyes boring into azzi’s location at dallas airport as if she willing to reach her, send her a telepathic message that she loves her and that she's so sorry and fuck, what were they even fighting about. but she too far away, untouchable in the encasings built by resentments of months past, and paige can do nothing but turn her phone off, knowing that in a moment, her teammates would be blowing up her phone, having received a frantic message from her mum to check on her.

she’s not in the mood to see anyone, can barely fathom leaving this bed and this blanket and azzi’s smell. she looks around and my god she's fucking everywhere, a hoodie of hers she’s forgotten (well really it was paige’s, but after multiple back and forth they’d lost track of who it actually belonged to) strewed on her chair, her empty coffee mug on the bedside table, beside a vibrator paige had only bought a few days ago, anticipating azzi’s visit. it feels insane that they had sex today, that in less than twenty four hours their entire eight year relationship has imploded before her eyes. a third of her life just gone.

she quickly opens her bedside drawer and pushes the mug with half drunk contents, along with the unwashed vibrator into it. its disgusting but she simply cannot look or do anything else, thinks ‘i’ll deal with that tomorrow’, before she burrows herself further into the duvet, and starts to cry again. she’ll wake up tomorrow, and clean her room, and go to training, and pretend to care about her last regular game for the season but for right now, she drowns herself completely in the smell of azzi’s perfume and her own misery.

[purple-egg-yolk]

STUPID IDIOT MOTHERFUCKING JURGEIN LEITNER GOD DAMN FOOL BOOK COLLECTING DUST EATING RAT OLD BASTARD SHITHEAD IDIOT AVATAR OF THE WHORE BIGGEST CLOWN IN THE CIRCUS LAUGHED OUT OF TOWN COWBOY MOTHERFUCKING JURGEIN LEITNER

(Spoilers for mah friend listening to tma)

Back to our regularly scheduled copypasta

STOP PINNING ME WHEN I TALK ABOUT JURGEIN LEITENER I HATE HIM SO MUCH WHY DOES HE HAVE SO MANY FUCKED UP BOOKS WHY DID HE DECIDE TO FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT JUST SET THEM LOOSE IS HE DEAD IS HE A BASTARD MAN HAS SUCH A VISCERAL AFFECT ON ME NOT EVEN IN THE ROOM NEVER SEEN THIS MANS FACE AND I KNOW HE HAS THE WORLDS SHITTIEST BEARD GET AWAY FROM ME

if i wanted to get into heaven and god said jurgein leitners waiting inside i would piss on gods feet for the sole purpose of getting sent back down

if i have to deal with jurgein leitner speaking one word in person on voice in podcast not only will i close the tab i will delete my bookmark out of spite and have to rewatch the entire series again for the experience of being able to skip all the times when he is mentioned or alive

i dont even know why i hate him so much. he collects books but i am just mad because i am angy

he better have some fucked up backstory to explain this if hes just some rich shithead whos a fan of creepypasta and wanted the irl version ill go ham

BETTER have had a book make him kill a man cuz if he didnt Im going to make him

episodes not even about him. vaguely mentioned what is supposed to maybe be his library and I lost it

where the fuck is jurgein leitner if hes still alive im going to so deeply wish he wasnt

crusty old man

ill punch leitner and his sad frail old man twig bones will simply flake apart under my epic huge meat fist and he will disintegrate until all thats left is one final book he kept on him at all times simply titled Now You Fucked Up in ancient yiddish

im not breathing im hyperventilating at this point

i hope theres a date given for when jurgen died or will die so i can make it a reminder on my phone

everyday once a year i will see it and do anything but pay respects to the man who had so many fucked up if true books

Elias Bouchard:

God i hate it when Jurgen Leitner -_-

what a cunt

[cheftsunoda]

secrets are no fun (unless shared with everyone)

smau + real life

lewis hamilton x !sister reader

hamilton reader x max verstappen

ayana hamilton, the younger sister of seven-time world champion lewis hamilton, has seemingly achieved everything she could ever desire— a successful career as a music producer and artist, been all around the world, has a supportive family and a loving husband—however, that’s a secret that no one, not even her brother, knows about—her husband is also an f1 driver. lewis has always made it his mission to prevent ayana from dating a driver— but is it technically considered dating if they are married? ;)

fc: tyla ! 🌸

(sza will be used as ayana’s best friend so when i say solana— our queen miss sza)

thank you to @babygirl-4986 for the idea for this series and i am so excited to write for you guys :)

—

vegas grand prix 2024

mercedes 1-2– as a little sister I am beaming with excitement for lewis but a part of me is wondering where max is after getting p5. i knew how hard he could be on himself sometimes. he was still leading the championship but it seemed as if that wasn’t enough sometimes. i stood in the crowd next to my best friend, solana, she was the only one who knew about max and i, she had been with me through everything. i have actually been trying to set her up with lewis for the longest time— they are both oblivious to my actions but maybe one day it would work. i took out my phone to start recording as george walked out first, i began cheering for him and waved to him— he smiled down and waved back. lewis came out next with a proud smile on his face and I cheered extra loud and solana blew him a kiss in which he returned and he waved at me. the british national anthem began and before you knew it there was champagne all over the place. i grabbed solana’s hand and we made our way through the huge crowd, stopping to take some photos with fans. as we made it through the crowd, i reached for my phone to text max.

how are you doing my love? where are uuu?

I slipped my phone into my back pocket as Lewis approached us. I reached out and wrapped my arms around him and he gave me a squeeze. He pressed a gentle kiss on my temple.

“I’m so proud of you, Lew. Always. You did amazing out there.” I said and he let go of me with a smile.

“I always do better when my wonderful sister is here to cheer me on..and her beautiful best friend.” He states and turned to Solana pulling her into a big hug, a light blush settling on her face.

“And what are you lovely ladies up to for the rest of the night?” Lewis asked and Solana shrugs my way.

“Honestly, not sure.” She said and Lewis smiled.

“How about some drinks?” He asked as I reached for my phone.

doing ok, schat. would be better if I could see that beautiful face.

“You guys go, have fun. I’ll catch up later, I just have some business to handle.” I said with a smile and Solana gave me a knowing look.

“Alright, see you later, be safe please.” Lewis said with a quick side hug.

“Of course, love you guys.” I said and sent them both a smile.

meet me in the lot in five angel

on my way pretty girl

I started walking to his car rather quickly, thankfully fans could not get in this area so we were able to be alone for a moment. I leaned against the sleek black SUV, the cool desert night brushing against my skin. I spotted Max a few feet away, dressed down in a black hoodie and some jeans. He approached me with a small smile, wrapping his arms around my waist, mine reaching around his neck.

“I swear every time I see you all my problems just fade, schat. Your beauty makes me forget everything.” He hummed with a love drunk smile upon his face.

“I feel the same way about you, my love.” I say pulling him into a soft kiss that lasted for a few moments.

“Marry me.” He murmured. I pulled back, stunned, slightly in shock.

“What did you say? Max are you drunk?” I ask and he chuckled slightly.

“No, Liefde. Let’s get married, right here, right now.” He stated again and I smiled at him.

“Let’s get you to the hospital. Did you hit your head getting out of the car?” I ask and he takes my hand.

“Mooi meisje, just listen to me. You are the one for me, I have known that since you walked into my life. Everyday I look forward to getting up to be with you and spend the day with you. Normally with a P5 result, I’d be sitting, sulking and thinking about what I could have done better but today I didn’t care— I don’t need to race— I don’t need the championships but I do need you— you’re the love of my life, yana.” He stated and I feel tears start to well in my eyes.

“Max, I-I love you so much. I need you.” I said wrapping my arms around him extra tight, I feel him squeeze my waist.

“So marry me, Yana. You’ll have me forever.” He whispered.

“Okay, let’s do it.” I said with a huge smile and Max lifted me up in the air. He pressed the biggest kiss to my lips. He pulled a small red box out of his sweatshirt and popped it open. I gasped slightly at the beautiful ring and he took the ring out gently and reached for my hand. He left a kiss across my knuckles and gently slid the ring onto my finger. It was absolutely stunning— everything I could’ve wanted in a ring.

“I know this isn’t the most ideal place for this but I could marry you while standing inside of a dumpster and I would still be overjoyed and we can always have a ceremony later-“ I interrupted his rambling by placing my hand on his cheek.

“Max— this is perfect. I don’t care how it happens as long as I get to spend forever with you.” I said and he smiled.

“Now let’s go get married, champion.” I teased and he hurriedly opened the car door for me and rushed to the drivers side.

—

I had changed into one of Max’s hoodies and put on a hat and some larger frame sunglasses. Everyone in the city is either drunk or too distracted from the race but it’s best to be safe. Max had pulled his hoodie over his head and also threw some sunglasses on. He held my hand and looked over at me.

“You really sure about this, Verstappen?” I teased lightly biting my lip.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything, schat.” He said rubbing my knuckles.

“Let’s go then.” I said and hopped out of the car. He came around and wrapped his arm around my waist as we made it inside the chapel. The neon lights flickering above us. It smelled faintly of roses and old wood. The lady at the desk shot us a quick smile.

“Here to get hitched, lovebirds?” She asked as she stood. We stared at each other for a second before nodding.

“Come with me.” She states and led us into the actual chapel. There was a man stood at the end of the short aisle who gave us a sweet smile.

“Mind if we trade your hat out for this?” The lady asked and offered me a veil, I look towards max and he nodded with a smile.

“I think we can do that.” I said and took off my hat and she helped fit the veil into my hair. Max smiled at me and took my hands into his.

“I suppose we are ready now.” The officiant said with a big smile.

“Names?” He asked.

“Ayana Hamilton.” I said and he nodded looking towards Max.

“Max. Max Verstappen.” He nodded and smiled to himself.

“Do you, Ayana Hamilton, take Max Verstappen to be your lawfully wedded husband?” He asked and I nodded.

“I do.”

“And do you, Max Verstappen, take Ayana Hamilton to be your lawfully wedded wife?” He asked.

His eyes never left mine. “I do.”

“By the power vested in me, in the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you both husband and wife. Max, you may kiss your bride.” He said with a smile and Max grabbed my waist and pulled me into a long passionate kiss. It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t hungry, it was soft and sweet.

We stumbled out of the chapel laughing, my hand wrapped tight in his. The Vegas Strip roared around us, but in that moment, it felt like the world had gone silent.

“You realize Lewis is going to kill me when he finds out, right?” Max said, chuckling as he pulled me into his arms.

I grinned, resting my forehead against his chest. “Maybe. But you’ll survive. You’re a world champion, remember?”

He tilted my chin up, kissing me again like he had something to prove. “Now I’m the champion of something even better.”

—

present day / max and ayana’s apartment

The late afternoon sun poured through the windows of our Monaco apartment, casting a warm, golden glow over the hardwood floors. I sat cross-legged on the bed, half-folded clothes scattered around me in a chaotic mess. Max leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me with an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re packing like we’re moving across the world, not like you’re just spending four days with Lewis,” he teased, nodding toward the three overstuffed suitcases.

I tossed a hoodie at him. “It’s not just four days. It’s Lewis. You know how he is — there will be fancy dinners, training sessions, impromptu yacht trips. I have to be prepared for anything.”

Max caught the hoodie with one hand, laughing. He crossed the room in a few steps and sat down beside me, plucking a pair of sunglasses from my pile and perching them on my head. “You’re gonna miss me,” he said, mock-sulking.

I looked at him over the rim of the sunglasses. “Of course I’m gonna miss you,” I said, pushing them up into my hair. “Who else is going to steal my snacks and hog the blanket at 3 AM?”

He chuckled, reaching out to tuck a loose curl behind my ear. “You know you could just stay,” he murmured, teasing but a little serious too.

I leaned into his touch for a second, then grinned. “If I cancel on Lewis now, he’ll definitely figure out we’ve been married for a year and didn’t tell him.”

Max groaned dramatically, flopping backward onto the bed. “Still can’t believe we’ve kept it a secret this long. You’re a terrible liar, Ayana.”

“And yet, here we are,” I said proudly, zipping one of the suitcases shut.

He reached out and grabbed my hand, tugging me down onto the bed beside him. I landed with a soft laugh, my hair spilling across his chest. He looked down at me, blue eyes soft, thumb tracing lazy circles over the back of my hand.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” he said quietly. “For everything — the tour, the music, surviving this crazy world… and for still picking me.”

My chest squeezed a little at the tenderness in his voice. “Always you, Max.”

—

After I finally managed to wrestle the last suitcase shut, Max stood and stretched, looking all too innocent. Too casual.

I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he said, way too quickly.

Suspicious.

But I let it go. For now. I tugged my duffel bag onto the bed, double-checking I had my headphones, my laptop, my chargers — the essentials. Max wandered over, slipping his arms around my waist from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder.

“Promise you’ll call me every night?” he said, voice dropping to that soft, boyish tone he only ever used with me.

I smiled, resting my hands on his. “You act like I’m going away for a year, not four days.”

“Still too long,” he mumbled.

I twisted around and kissed him quickly. “I’ll call. Pinky swear.”

He grinned against my mouth, stealing one more kiss before finally letting me go. I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, tossing a “Love you!” over my shoulder.

Max winked. “Love you more.”

—

later that night

Lewis, Solana and I had just arrived at the Beach House. I was always insistent on unpacking as soon as we get to the destination. No— before you ask; I am not sure if Solana and Lewis are together. I invited her on this quick trip and Lewis is always willing to have her.

I was digging through my duffel bag, looking for my spare phone charger when my fingers brushed against something unfamiliar.

Frowning, I pulled it out — a small, folded piece of paper with Max’s handwriting scribbled across it.

“For when you miss me too much.”

Taped to it was one of his racing gloves — the very one he wore during the Vegas GP last year, the night we got married.

My throat tightened, emotions bubbling up too fast. Inside the note, he’d written:

“You’re my best win. Always have been, always will be. Come home soon, Mrs. Verstappen.”

I clutched the glove to my chest, a wide, stupid grin breaking across my face.

“Yana-“ Lewis said as he entered the room and I quickly tucked the glove in my suitcase.

“What’s up?” I turned around with a smile.

He gave me a confused but big smile.

“They have dinner prepared for us on the beach, whenever you’re ready.” He said and I nodded.

“I’m just going to get changed and I’ll be out.” I said and he nodded.

“Thank you, Lew. For the trip.” I said and he reached out for a hug.

“Of course, no one else I’d rather have with me.” He said and left the room.

I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text.

got your surprise, mr verstappen. you made me cry. i miss you and love you so much.

you’ll be back in no time, my beautiful wife. enjoy your time with your brother. call me when you can, schat. i love you even more

I smiled and plugged my phone in. I quickly changed into a sundress and slipped on some sandals. I added a few pieces of jewelry and left the room. Lewis was standing behind the counter in the kitchen as Solana stood across the counter from him as she was showing him tik toks— he finally got the app he just doesn’t understand the humor yet.

“Showing Gramps how to use Tik Tok?” I questioned with a smirk and they both smiled at me.

“Mmm girl you look so good..” Solana reached out her hand and spun me around.

“So do you, my love.” I said and she smiled.

“Well beautiful ladies, shall we?” Lewis asked motioning towards the beach.

“We shall.” Solana said and we all started walking towards the beach.

—

next day

I was sat out on the balcony, having my morning call with Max.

“How are Jimmy and Sassy?” I ask and he smiles before pointing the camera at the two cats who are snuggled together.

“Precious babies.” I murmured with a smile.

“They get it from their mother.” Max said and I chucked.

“Unfortunately I do have a meeting and some training to do so I have to go but enjoy your day and I will talk to you tonight, okay? I love you so much.” Max said and I smiled giving him a small wave.

“Love you more.” I said ending the FaceTime.

“Good morning, Mrs. Verstappen.” Solana joked as she pulled open the sliding door and handed me a juice.

“Not too loud now.” I said and chuckled.

“You both are so cute it makes me sick.” She said taking a seat next to me.

“I appreciate it and I appreciate you helping to keep it on the low. You are like one of the only people I can trust.” I state leaning into her shoulder. She leaned her head on top of mine.

“I always got you, boo. Forever.” She says with a smile.

—

The sun was sinking low over the water, casting a soft orange glow across the beach. I lay sprawled out on a lounge chair, toes buried in the warm sand, a half-finished book resting on my chest. Roscoe was asleep in the sand beside me, head resting on my leg

Lewis plopped down beside me with his usual lack of grace, sending a small spray of sand and water onto my towel.

“Nice, Lew,” I said, brushing it off and giving him a look.

He grinned like a kid caught sneaking cookies before dinner. “You needed a little excitement. You’ve been way too chill lately.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t hide my smile. “Maybe I’m finally learning to relax.”

“Doubt it,” he teased, stretching out beside me. “But hey, you have been different lately. Happier. Calmer. It’s good.”

I glanced at him over my sunglasses. “You saying I was a nightmare before?”

He laughed, tossing a grape up into the air and catching it in his mouth. “Not a nightmare. Just…intense. Always working, always moving. It’s nice to see you actually taking time for yourself.”

I tucked my arms behind my head, feeling the warm breeze drift over us. Lewis had a point — for once. Things with Max had changed me in ways I hadn’t even realized until now. But Lewis, blissfully unaware, just thought I was finally taking better care of myself.

“Guess I just figured out what matters,” I said lightly, smiling at the horizon.

Lewis nodded, not prying for once. “Whatever it is, keep it up. You deserve to be happy, Yana.”

He nudged my foot with his. “Also, when are you dropping that new album? You’ve been teasing it for months.”

I laughed. “Soon. You’ll get the first copy. I might even sign it for you, if you’re lucky.”

He gave me a dramatic bow from his lounge chair. “An honor, Miss Hamilton.”

We both cracked up, the easy, familiar laughter filling the air like it always had when we were kids. No pressure. No cameras. Just a brother and a sister, a beach, and the feeling that everything — at least for today — was exactly how it was supposed to be.

—

tonight was a big reason we are on this trip— Lewis, Solana and I were going to make a few drinks at a local bar in the middle of the city to promote his new non alcoholic tequila brand.

The tiny bar was packed, the air buzzing with laughter, music, and the clink of glasses. Fairy lights strung up across the ceiling gave the whole place a warm, golden glow. Somewhere in the back, a DJ was spinning laid-back tracks, and every table was decorated with little cards featuring Almave — Lewis’ new tequila brand.

“Alright, team,” Lewis said, clapping his hands behind the bar like we were about to run a full Michelin-star service. “We’ve got three goals tonight: pour good drinks, have fun, and make my tequila look like the greatest thing to ever happen to planet Earth.”

I laughed, tying an apron around my waist. “You’re lucky Sol and I love you, because this is not what I thought I’d be doing on vacation.”

Solana leaned over the bar with a wink. “Girl, we are the party. Plus, free drinks.”

Lewis threw an arm around each of us, grinning wide. “Exactly. The dream team.”

We got to work, pouring shots, shaking cocktails, and posing for selfies with fans who couldn’t believe Lewis Hamilton, Ayana and SZA were bartending in a random coastal bar. Every so often, Lewis would dramatically present a bottle of his tequila with both hands like it was a sacred relic.

“Only the finest!” he announced to a group of guys at the bar, pouring them shots with a flourish.

Meanwhile, Solana mixed up a custom cocktail she invented on the spot — something fruity and spicy — and by the second round, she had people lining up to try it.

I handled the crowd like a pro, sliding drinks down the bar, laughing when one almost toppled off the edge. “First one’s free if you can catch it!” I called, making the bar explode in cheers.

Every few minutes, Lewis would bump his shoulder into mine, and Sol would lean over to crack a joke, and it felt… normal. No paparazzi, no pressure. Just us, doing something wild and silly because we could.

At one point, Lewis grabbed the mic by the DJ booth. “Big thanks to everyone for coming out tonight! And remember,” he said, holding up a glass, “life’s too short to drink bad tequila. Cheers!”

The whole bar roared back in a toast, and we clinked glasses behind the counter, grinning like idiots.

Later, as the crowd started to thin and the neon signs flickered a little softer, Solana leaned her head on my shoulder and sighed happily.

“Tell me why this is one of the best nights I’ve had in forever,” she said.

I smiled, wiping down the bar. “Because it’s not about the tequila. It’s about us.”

Lewis slung an arm around both of us again, his face flushed from laughing so much. “Nah, it’s definitely the tequila,” he said with a wink.

And for the first time in a long while, I realized just how lucky we were — messy, chaotic, ridiculous — but lucky all the same.

—

f1gossipgirls posted!

25,368 likes

f1gossipgirls : Lewis Hamilton, Ayana Hamilton and SZA all spotted bartending at a small bar in Riviera Maya, Mexico to promote his new tequila brand— Almave!

—

username : omg all my faves

username2 : love them so much— having fomo rn

username5 : the Hamilton genes are so strong

username7 : they are so beautiful fr

username9 : sza is toooo

username7 : true true

username8 : my brother met them last night and said they are all so sweet— he said Ayana gave him like 5 free drinks for him and his friends lmao😭

liked by author

username10 : omg so jealous

usernameee : just a question but why is sza with them??

f1gossipgirls : she has been a good friend of ayana for years and her and lewis have been linked multiple times

—

texts !

saw some videos of you bartending

you are so hot

come home now please

be home tomorrow pretty boy

don’t get too excited without me

—

ayanaaa

riviera maya, mexico 📍

liked by sza, lewishamilton, scuderiaferrari & 4,357,975 others.

ayanaaa : thankful for lew, sol, roscoe, mexico and almave

tagged : lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco, sza, almave

—

roscoelovescoco : loves yous aunt yayas!!

liked by author

ayanaaa: love my roscoe<3

username : lewis calling her aunt yaya is so cute

sza : the best time with my best fransssss🌎🍃🌱🌊💙

liked by author

ayanaaa : love ya my sollll

lewishamilton : so glad you came — love you sis ❤️

liked by author

ayanaaa : love you more

scuderiaferrari : our faves 😻😻

liked by author

ayanaaa : ferrariiii my love — season passes for Miss Solana?

scuderiaferrari: absolutely! you are both welcome always 💋

liked by author and sza

carmenmmundt : you are so beautiful ayana. i miss you so much!

liked by author

ayanaaa : miss you more carms

alexandrasaintmleux: 😻😻😻😻

liked by author

—

The front door clicked softly behind me as I stepped inside, the familiar scent of cedarwood and fresh linen wrapping around me like a hug. My suitcase thudded quietly on the floor, but before I could even call out, I heard footsteps — quick, eager — from the hallway.

Max appeared, barefoot and in sweatpants, hair messy like he’d just rolled out of bed even though it was early evening. His whole face lit up the second he saw me, and the ache of missing him hit me all at once.

“You’re home,” he said, voice low and full of relief.

I barely had time to nod before he crossed the room in three quick strides, sweeping me into his arms. I dropped my bag and wrapped myself around him, breathing him in — the faint scent of his cologne, the comfort of home.

“I missed you,” I mumbled into his shoulder.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his blue eyes so soft it made my chest tighten. “You have no idea how much.”

He kissed me — slow, lingering, like he was making up for every second we’d been apart. I melted into him, smiling against his mouth.

When we finally broke apart, he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and whispered, “No more trips without me.”

I laughed, trailing my fingers lightly over his jaw. “Tell that to my brother next time he drags me on a ‘bonding adventure.’”

Max chuckled, pressing another kiss to my forehead. “Deal. Next time, I’ll just come with you. Hide in your suitcase if I have to.”

He reached for my duffel, slinging it effortlessly over his shoulder with one hand and threading our fingers together with the other.

“Come on,” he said, tugging me toward the living room. “I made your favorite — pizza and that terrible show you love.”

“My terrible show is a masterpiece,” I corrected with a grin.

“Right, right,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Masterpiece.”

We curled up together on the couch, my legs thrown over his lap, his arm tucked firmly around my waist like he couldn’t bear to let go. The TV played in the background, but all I could focus on was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under my cheek.

—

p1 of this series complete! let me know what yall think and any suggestions for the next part and as always requests are always open! 💋

[pineconepie]

CHARACTERS: Seradiel, Kezareth, Reader/You

WARNINGS/TAGS: Parental yandere(s), religious themes and references, conflict, angels and demons, emotional reader, forced infantilization, cuddling, annoyed reader, manipulation, mentioned possession, Sera and Kez giving divorced parent energy 💔

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have finally wrote demon yandad! I didn't know whether or not to just make him his own character, but decided for now since I'll only be writing him with Seradiel, to not give him his own spot on series 3 (yet?)

It's dusk when it happens.

You'd already had a long day, made longer by Seradiel trailing behind you like your shadow, fawning over your safety like always. After a night out on the town with friends, you were exhausted. All you wanted to do now was rest in the comfort of your bed and maybe catch something on TV, before calling it a night and letting sleep lull you.

"I told you not to go out today," Seradiel murmurs for the seventh time, his voice gentle but cloying. His hands are folded neatly in front of him as he walks behind you.

"And I told you, I'm not going to change my plans because you 'had a feeling' it wouldn't turn out well," you retort. "Every single time you say that."

"And I am right every single time," Seradiel counters.

You don't respond. You don't even look at him. His constant hovering is wearing you down, and you have a feeling he's well aware of that.

The worst part is, you can't run from him, can't call anyone to get him away from you— because he's a celestial being. There's no escaping someone who doesn't live by human laws.

Suddenly the street darkens. The temperature dips. You look to the sky for some kind of explanation for the strange shift in scenery, but all you see are the same clouds you saw ten minutes ago. You look at Seradiel for an explanation.

His expression has shifted from irritation to wariness. He takes a protective stance in front of you. "Don't move." He's staring ahead, and you follow his gaze.

Standing there is a man who's slightly shorter than Seradiel, but with black wings, horns, and a thin black tail.

His hair is short and dark brown, and beneath his glasses are piercing green eyes, almost glowing. He wears a suit that makes him look like he came from a business meeting.

"Well, well, well," the man— probably a demon, drawls. "Long time no see, Sera."

Seradiel blocks you from the demon's vision with one of his wings. "Kezareth." Your guardian angel sounds downright hateful when saying his name. You never heard such poison dripping from his tone. "Why are you here?"

"New rules." Kezareth grabs a scroll from his pocket and unfolds it, clearing his throat. "Heaven and Hell's High Councils have come to a compromise; for every mortal human that has a guardian angel reveal themselves to them, a demon must also assign itself to said human, to balance out each side's influence." When he finishes reading, he puts the paper back into his pocket. "Since you angel's care about balance so much, this should be happy news for you."

"Oh, please," Seradiel scoffs. "There is no way anyone in heaven with a right mind agreed to this."

Kezareth shrugs. "Believe me, believe the document, or go ask God himself if you'd like. Now, let me meet my new kiddo..." He kneels down as if you're shorter than you are, waving hello. "Oh, aren't you just adorable!"

He reaches a gloved hand out to ruffle your hair, but Seradiel slaps it away. "Touch them and I will tear out your eyes."

"Wow, what a good influence," Kezareth snorts. He rises to his feet, dusting off his suit. "No need to be a drama queen about it, I'm not allowed to do anything harmful to our baby anyway. I'm just supposed to watch them like you do."

"Not 'our' baby," Seradiel growls. "And why on earth would you want to protect them? What even is your job description, if you aren't lying, that is?"

"We need more people in Hell," he shrugs. "While you're trying to get them into Heaven by encouraging them to do good things, I'm doing the opposite. Nothing crazy, of course. Just imagine me as the little demon on their shoulder."

"If you cared about them, why would you want them in Hell?" Seradiel narrows his eyes.

"So they can be with their superior dad? Catch up." Kezareth turns his attention to you again. "Sorry about all the boring bureaucracy. The main thing to know is I am taking good care of you now."

"And I thought having one overprotective asshole was bad enough," you mumble under your breath. Of course, both supernatural beings hear you.

"Language," Seradiel scolds. He hoists you up, giving you a chance to remember his inhuman strength. "And you, you stay away from them." He jabs his pointer finger at Kezareth. "You know nothing of safety."

Kezareth holds his hands up in a faux gesture of peace. "Even if I didn't want to, I don't have a choice in the matter. Rules are rules. And if you were to stop me, I think that'd be a big offense to both Heaven and Hell."

Seradiel runs a hand through his hair. "Fffffine. But if you put them in danger—"

"I'm not gonna. Demons can't harm mortals directly, remember? We can tempt them and suggest things, but we cannot carry them out. Not that I would." He offers his hand to you. "Now! Walk with me, tell me all about yourself."

...

Having two celestial beings in your life certainly changed things around.

The worst part is how Seradiel and Kezareth constantly clash on the smallest things, unable to agree on almost everything regarding your care. Like two parents in a custody battle, the only thing they share is their mutual desire for your safety. That doesn't stop them from bickering like two toddlers fighting over the same toy, though.

"How did you two know each other before?" you ask during dinner (which Seradiel made, refusing to let Kezareth even touch anything in the kitchen).

Seradiel sighs. "Kezareth was an angel once. We were... acquaintances."

Kezareth looks mildly offended. "If you think mere acquaintances spend every single day together, sleep in the same bed, bathe together, then sure, call us acquaintances."

You nearly choke on your food. "So you guys were an item?"

"Not quite." Seradiel dabs his mouth with a napkin. "That is neither here nor there, but yes, Kezareth was an angel until he fell." Disdain seeps into his voice. "He was never a good angel, mind you. Always questioning orders, never attending meetings. The only thing he was good at was slacking off." He glares daggers at Kezareth, who ignores his glower.

"Anyway, I didn't fall," Kezareth says. "I jumped. And I've never felt more free. That's why I don't want you becoming part of that life, (Y/n). It's not all rainbows and sunshine up there."

Seradiel's eyes narrow. "I'd say more strict rules are far better than eternal fire."

"Oh, please, that's just an exaggeration." Kezareth waves a hand dismissively. He turns his attention to you. "I have a pretty big social status down there. All I have to do is pull some strings and you can have your own mansion bigger than Earth. How about it?"

"Don't listen to him," Seradiel huffs.

Wow, this really does feel like a custody battle. "I just want to eat my dinner and go to bed..."

Seradiel pats your shoulder. "Finish your greens first. They'll make you big and strong." You notice Kezareth nodding to that.

...

A few days later, you attempt to shop for groceries, but you can't even do that without these two butting heads.

"Don't get that, that's loaded with cholesterol," Seradiel chastises, plucking the food from your hands.

"Hey, it's fine to be self-indulgent every now and then," Kezareth shrugs, grabbing the food back.

You groan. "It's fine, I don't have the money to get that anyway."

Kezareth puts a hand to his heart. "You're telling me Sera doesn't pay for your stuff?"

"I only pay for things I approve of. Food, rent, clothes. Anything else is a reward for good behavior." He puts the food back. "I haven't a clue why I'm explaining this to you, you wouldn't get it."

"I don't get anything that comes out of your mouth," the demon utters. He ruffles your hair, lowering his voice. "You ever steal anything before?"

Seradiel answers for you. "Don't even try putting ideas into their head."

Kezareth ignores him. "If you don't want to, I can for you. Just tell me you give me permission."

"(Y/n), don't. That is just as bad as stealing it yourself," Seradiel warns.

As much as you don't want to start any trouble, you do admit Kezareth's offer is tempting. A quick glance around tells you the coast is clear; there's no employees or customers around this area. "Alright, if it's just a snack, I guess so. Go for it."

At your agreement, a broad smile crosses Kezareth's features. He leans into one of the shelves and grabs what you're eyeing, shoving it in his jacket. "Perfect." He kisses the side of your head with a dramatic "mwah" sound, ignoring Seradiel's irritated glare. "Anything else you want around here that Mr. Grump would disapprove of?"

You open your mouth to tell him another thing, but Seradiel's disapproving glare makes you second guess your actions. "Uhh, I don't think so."

"That's correct," your guardian angel says firmly. "We're leaving before this gets anymore reckless." He grabs your wrist, dragging you to the check-out.

For the remainder of the shopping trip, there's palpable tension between Seradiel and Kezareth. You pretend to ignore it for your sanity's sake.

...

"Why do you look so upset, honey?" Kezareth coos a few days later, when he sees you trudge in the kitchen.

He knows why you're upset, of course. He had made himself invisible while watching you through the whole day, and knows you had a falling out with a friend (that he may or may not have caused, after all, you were starting to stray away from him, and he can't have that). He stops what he's doing to pull a chair from the table, ushering you over.

"One of my friends... or, well, ex-friends, isn't talking to me anymore. She blocked all contact with me out of nowhere," you utter, sitting down. "Found out she was gossiping about me behind my back with some other friends."

Kezareth starts combing through your hair with his fingers. "Aww, baby. Well, if she thinks so lowly of you, you can do without her," he says smoothly.

"She called me immature and annoying, too. Is that true?"

Kezareth clicks his tongue, moving a chair in front of you so he can sit face to face. He takes your cheeks in his hands. "Nooo, don't believe anything she said, or anyone else for that matter. She's an idiot. She doesn't know anything, baby."

You sniffle. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

He nods vigorously. "Of course I'm right, I'm always right!" He pulls you into a hug. "Besides, even if you are annoying, I don't care about that stuff. I still think you're adorable."

"I have a feeling you're only saying that because you're obligated to." Nonetheless, you return the gesture.

"Honey, I don't do anything I don't want to," Kezareth promises, voice sweet. "Everything I do is out of choice, not necessity." He brushes his thumb under your eye to wipe your tears. "Now, no more tears over someone like her. Okay, sweet pea? Now how about you take a much-needed nap." He hoists you into his arms like Seradiel often does, carrying you to your room.

"I feel too angry to even sleep," you mutter. "I know it's wrong, but I kind of hate her now."

"There's nothing wrong with hate, I don't understand why so many people are afraid of it," Kezareth says. "It's actually better to have a lot of it, otherwise you get walked over all the time." He sets you down on the bed. "And if you can't find it in yourself to hate her, I can hate her for you. In fact, I already do!"

You cover your mouth to stifle a laugh. "You don't even know her."

"If she hurt you, then she hurt me." He tucks you into your bedsheets like a burrito and presses a kiss on your nose. "Say the word, and I'll ruin her life for you. Not even joking!"

"As tempting as that is, I don't hate her that much," you chuckle.

"That's alright, sweetheart," Kezareth smiles. "But if you ever change your mind, let me know." He adjusts your pillow so that your neck and head are more supported. "I'll wake you in an hour or so, whenever dinner's ready. I think you're in need of some comfort food!"

When he walks into the kitchen, there's Seradiel, glaring daggers at him.

"Our baby was emotionally wounded, and where were you, hm? Off in cloudland, right?" He walks past the angel, preparing dinner.

"What did you do?" Seradiel snaps. Kezareth turns around, feigning innocence. "Don't give me that look. I can see the wickedness in you, clear as day."

Kezareth sighs. "Some mild possession, what of it? That girl was turning against them anyway."

Seradiel's eye twitches. "Why? Just so you could see (Y/n) cry?"

The demon puts a dramatic hand to his nonexistent heart. "You think so lowly of me! But yes, partially. I need a reason to comfort them and bond with them, since you hog most of their attention to yourself. But also because I need them to come to terms with their more human emotions. Hatred is a natural emotion of theirs that you've tried to suppress for too long."

"I don't discourage them to feel human emotions, I discourage them to act on said emotions," Seradiel points out. "There is a big difference."

"So even though you hate me, by your logic, you can't act on that hatred?" Kezareth challenges.

"You're an exception, since you are not human, and therefore are not bound to those standards," Seradiel says curtly. "I hope you aren't encouraging them to punch anyone."

"Nooo, I'd never want them to get their hands dirty. That's my job. Which is exactly why I offered to ruin that brat's life, but they said they didn't want that. For now, anyway. The offer still stands indefinitely." He adds oil into a pan with a sizzling sound. "Is jealousy eating away at you? Are you frustrated that they aren't crying to you anymore?"

"Stop making them sad just for your ego," Seradiel snarls. "It's sickening and selfish, even for your standards."

"Oh, please, you aren't an angel, either. Oh, actually, I guess you are. You know what I meant." Kezareth peels and chops the vegetables rhythmically, the knife clacking against the cutting board. "Your motives for being overprotective are no different from mine."

"They actually are. I just want them to live a happy, safe life. You just want to drag them down with you to Hell so you'll be less lonely." Seradiel folds his arms over his chest, leaning back against a wall. "At least my intentions come from genuine love and care."

Kezareth snickers. "You're just a control freak. I just want them to be with their superior dad forever. Not as crazy as you make it out to be."

"They are not yours," Seradiel huffs. "I am going to clean the living room. Do not make a mess in here, I already spent an hour cleaning your mess last night."

"Ugh, thank goodness we broke up. You'd make an awful husband, always nitpicking me."

"It wouldn't hurt to pick up after yourself," Seradiel grumbles under his breath.

...

A couple months pass after Kezareth's arrival. While still an adjustment, it starts becoming part of your new routine.

The more time passes, the more relaxed your guardians seem to be around each other too— although sometimes their arguments get intense. You're lucky enough to find them casually conversing with each other every now and then, too, although they still have their disagreements.

One thing that you notice is how Kezareth tends to push boundaries while Seradiel likes to enforce them. Both their protective natures clash horribly as a result.

With Seradiel, at least he doesn't bother trying to mask his controlling nature. On the contrary, it feels as if he takes pride in it.

When it comes to Kezareth, though, he's sneakier about it.

He makes you think you have a say in certain decisions, but ultimately he manipulates you into choosing what he thinks is best. It's clear the only reason Kezareth wants you to do bad things (in Seradiel's eyes, at least) is to not only get you closer to spending an eternity with him, but also to piss off your guardian angel.

But when it comes to things like privacy, independence, and personal freedom, they seem to share a similar perspective.

Just yesterday, you went to hang out with some friends, but of course your celestial babysitters had to follow you around. But with their ability to cloak themselves and disappear, your friends thankfully weren't able to see them.

Though you were, and you swear they thought you were crazy when you randomly shouted at nothing about how annoying they were acting.

To them, they probably just saw you yelling at a wall.

And now, you're trying to go hang out with your friends again tonight, but it seems like your guardians have different plans.

"It's a Saturday night, baby," Kezareth argues. "All of the parties will be crowded with drunk idiots that want to hurt you. Not to mention the possibility of kidnapping. Please stay home, for me? We can bake cookies. Doesn't that sound so much better than going to some concert in a sweaty nightclub with sweaty strangers bumping into you?"

"Not really," you mutter under your breath.

Seradiel cups your shoulders. "Listen, (Y/n), even if we allow you to go, we must accompany you at all times. No wandering off on your own."

"No!" You jerk away from his grip. "Look, this concert won't even last that late into the night. And I'm going with a couple of friends."

"Who?" Seradiel and Kezareth say simultaneously.

"A friend who you don't know and whose name is none of your business," you snap.

"Tone," Seradiel warns, voice stern.

"I'll let you get ice cream and order whatever movie tickets you want for the next month," Kezareth bribes.

"I'm not a baby anymore! Stop treating me like one!" you shout. "You both promised to be more lax if I behaved 'better', but I've done everything you've asked. Yet you still treat me like I'm a child! Well, I'm not. So let me go out by myself for once!" You gesture to Seradiel. "Isn't free will a big part of being a human? Why would you work against that?"

Seradiel sighs. "And you do have free will. Either you go and let us come with you, or you don't go at all. That is a choice you are free to make."

"Why is it the only time you two seem as if you're able to work together, is when you're making my life miserable?" You stomp away towards your bedroom, throwing yourself onto your bed.

Kezareth throws Seradiel a look. "Wait to go."

"Are you seriously throwing the blame on me?" Seradiel scoffs. "You are just as immature as I remember! Perhaps even moreso! Do you even truly care about them, or are you just using this as an excuse to torment me?"

The demon huffs. "Oh, please, you aren't that special. You claim I'm the egotistical one, yet you think I came here just to spite you? Sure, the first reason I came here was because I was curious as to how you're doing, but my priorities have changed! Believe it or not, I do care about (Y/n). And if you choose not to believe it; not my problem!"

Just as Seradiel opens his mouth to retort, they both hear you sob. It's muffled and quiet, as if you're trying to conceal it, but they can hear it nonetheless. At that, any irritation dissipates.

They share a solemn glance and head towards your room.

Inside, you're laying in bed, your blankets sloppily pulled over you, back facing towards the door. Even when the pair enters, you don't acknowledge them.

"Precious, please don't cry," Kezareth coos, sitting beside you. "It hurts our hearts so much when you do that."

Seradiel sits down on the edge of the bed on the opposite side. "Is there anything you desire? You know we would do anything in the world for you." Despite his affectionate tone, his expression is downright heartbroken when he gazes at you.

You shift your position slightly so they can finally see your face, red and tear-stained. "Both of you suck," you mumble. "Every single day, you argue. And the worst part is, I can't escape it! You follow me everywhere! Sometimes it feels like I have no choice but to put up with you guys constantly nagging each other... And when you two actually agree on something, it's something that takes away from my freedom even more!"

Tears well in your eyes again, but Seradiel's fingers are quick to brush them away.

"Baby..." Kezareth says in a small voice. He takes off his glasses to rub his eyes, tears threatening them. "I'm sorry."

Seradiel sighs. "I am, too."

"I'm tired of feeling like your marriage counselor, or having to choose between one over the other," you continue. "I just want you to get along. Or at least tolerate being in the same room as each other." You wipe the rest of your tears away. "And if you have to argue, just do it somewhere I won't hear. Please."

Both of your guardian's faces soften.

They seem almost guilty, which is a rare expression on either of their faces.

"We'll work on our differences for you," Kezareth vows, shooting Seradiel a look. "Yeah?"

Seradiel exhales deeply, then nods. "Yes, that's the very least we can do. Whatever eases your mind." He gently grasps your hand, pressing a loving kiss on your knuckles. "Please, no more crying, my child. May I hold you?" He opens his arms invitingly.

Still mildly upset, you simply crawl towards him, burying your face in his robes. He cradles you like you're made of glass, humming softly in your ear to ease you, gently patting your back in a soothing motion.

Kezareth shifts to lay right behind you. His wings wrap around your frame to keep you warm.

In a weird way, you feel at home, protected by both your caretakers on either side of you. Before you know it, your eyelids begin to feel heavier as sleep consumes you.

"Nighty-night," Kezareth whispers. He and Seradiel share a look, silently agreeing to stay for the rest of the night.

[desolationlesbian]

It's so fascinating to me that "hates small talk" is a stereotypical autistic trait online. As an autistic person I love small talk. I get to make a series of mostly-meaningless repetitive scripted-to-standard noises about the weather and the coffee here and over time this convinces people I am trustworthy and encourages camaraderie without me having to reveal any significant facts whatsoever about my actual life or personhood. If I do this frequently enough people will have enough pre-established rapport with me that maybe they won't decide I'm unfit to be a human being when they finally notice I bring an identical lunch to work each day and have never once made eye contact with them. I think of this as Weirdo Management, or Weirdo Offset. Frequent positive contact through meaningless scripted conversations gives me more room to be a Weirdo around someone later. It's an essential survival mechanism. Sincerely scares me to consider functioning in or navigating an allistic workplace without partially dedicating myself to Weirdo Management.

[auroraboringaliceinwonderland]

Oh gosh I can’t tell you how excited I am to see some meta of these two. Considering that they and Merlin are canonically supposed to be considered a trio (though we certainly deserved to see more of such), I kinda wanna ramble about how Merlin fits into those traits as well.

You mentioned Arthur and Gwaine struggling with trust and abandonment issues, and I think Merlin actually faces those too.

Who can he trust, really, as a person of magic? There’s so little people who know, and every time someone learns they either get hurt (Hunith; Gaius; etc) or die (Lancelot; Freya; Will; etc).

That then extends to his abandonment issues as well. Everyone leaves him one way or another. Hel, the beginning of the series is about his mother making him move to Camelot. For good reasons in him earning a life of his own and stuff, but she still technically pushed him away; and after so many others wind up leaving or getting hurt or dying, that’s how he’ll likely end up viewing it at some point.

That doesn’t mean Merlin doesn’t have his friends of course, but most of them he has no choice but to keep at arms length or he could risk them leaving too.

Now to talk about the anger and self-hatred, which I also think Merlin has. Anger at Uther and the way things are in Camelot; anger at Kilgharrah and the Druids and this destiny that he has to complete; anger that he has to be alone throughout all of it; etc. And self-hatred because look at all the people he’s hurt and killed, and for what? Things keep getting worse, not better. How is he meant to complete his destiny?

How all of these emotions manifest feels different than how Arthur and Gwaine’s do; to a point where I don’t think they even notice that something is wrong - not until it’s too late and Arthur is wondering why Merlin hasn’t smiled for the past three days. To them it’s just Merlin being Merlin.

However I kind of see it as a mix between how Arthur and Gwaine’s emotions manifest; Merlin isolates and doesn’t tell anyone what is wrong because he can’t, however he also puts on that act to seem like he’s the fun guy that everyone loves.

Maybe that’s why Arthur and Gwaine are so drawn to him - because Arthur can subconsciously recognize that same wound in Merlin; and because Gwaine can as well. They’re just viewing it from different angles and don’t see that there’s another part to it.

The dynamic between Arthur and Gwaine is so interesting to me. They are both men who struggle with trust and abandonment issues. They both have so much anger and self hatred. But in Gwaine it manifests as a drinking problem (to numb the feelings, and to become that funny cool guy everyone likes because he is easy to get along with and doesn't have this huge amount of emotional baggage) , getting into brawls (punishing himself for drinking or for feeling) and flirting with every single person he comes across (avoiding any deep meaningful connections bc then ppl would realize he's not that nonchalant careless guy and would abandon him) and Arthur isolates (avoiding needing people bc eventually they would leave and he doesn't want to be hurt and humiliated again but also as a punishment for himself bc he shouldn't need other people that's weak, a lesson he learned from Uther), broods and denies himself to feel his emotions. (a king needs to be strong)

They are literally the same but they are so different. And I think thats why they struggle to get along sometimes because they recognize that wound in the other but they have a very different way of coping.

Or they just both wanted to kiss Merlin and were jealous who knows

[nikethestatue]

I've been in a few fandoms throughout my life, because I have an obsessive personality and tend to hyper fixate on things. And because I am a voracious reader, many of the fandoms were connected to books. I've never been involved to this degree in a bookish fandom, but I've been involved enough.

And this fandom--parts of it--is the only one I've ever encountered where an obsession with a ship trumps the actual books.

I've never encountered a fandom where readers ENCOURAGED newcomers to NOT read at least one of the books in the series. (Imagine someone claiming that with all seriousness! Imagine a whole group of HP fans screaming down others and telling them not to read 'The Prisoner of Azkaban' because 'it doesn't matter!')

I've never encountered a fandom where readers actively dismissed the original series, even though none of the books are standalone and all the characters are closely connected.

I've never encountered a fandom where a whole strata of readers actively HATE 98% of the characters.

Not only that, but the same strata of readers then try to convince normal, reasonable readers that the 3 characters that they do like are THE main characters of the series. (No, the series is NOT about Tamlin's Redemption or Lucien's quest for happiness. Shocking, I know)

I've never encountered a fandom where long-awaited updates and engagement from the publisher (literally FOUR years) are met with derision and hostility, because it's not about the desired ship.

I've never encountered a fandom where the actual STORY doesn't matter at all. Only the ship. No continuity is needed. No plot. No intrigue. No drama. The only thing that's desired is a ship that has nothing to do with the rest of the series.

Readers who've been reading for years, have an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the series, are made fun of, ridiculed and hounded on all platforms because they are 'obsessed with canon' and date to like a logical couple.

Lists are made with names of readers who like a LOGICAL couple. Presumably to doxx and hound.

I've never encountered a fandom, where one half is happy, loves the characters, celebrates them and enjoys the story (and I am talking about Feysands and Elriels) and the other half vitriolically detests the OG characters, and writes mile long metas about how everything is awful, horrible, the author is terrible and the books are crap. (Why are you still here, I am not sure).

I don't know, but it seems to me that Elriels are normal fans. We aren't 'loud' or obnoxious. We are excited because we are excited for the next book. if Taylor Swift announces a new tour, the NORMAL reaction would be to celebrate and crash the internet out of sheer joy. Not to seethe and berate her and the excited fans, while still insisting that you are a huge TS fan. Make it make sense?

Maybe instead of seething over your ship (which you made up and SJM never wrote, so I don't know why you are mad?) get excited about the next book and meeting all the characters again (supposedly, you all love Azriel, Gwyn and Lucien so much!). Quit getting mad over tote bags.

Try living in joy, not derision.

[dramalove247]

Heesu In Class 2 gives these queer moms hope

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

Heesu In Class 2 isn't targeting the BL audience, it's queer representation in a Kdrama and that makes us excited. This difference means that the struggles of being a queer youth were expertly contrasted against those living a het normative life, wrapped up inside a cute kdrama, and delivered to a much wider audience. An audience that may not have seen this perspective before. And the messages Heesu In Class 2 delivers to this audience are both powerful and important.

Love is Love. Mutual love is a precious gift and should be celebrated in all forms.

There were so many great messages during this series, but that felt like the final thought of Heesu's story. One that Heesu made when he said:

"Such insignificant tiny beings like us manage to find each other amidst countless specks of dust. How great of a miracle is that?"

The struggles of Heesu's sisters gives us all the evidence we need to see how precious it is to find someone that returns our feelings.

There were lots of other incredible messages/moments throughout the series that we were obsessed with. We already talked ourselves out of rewatching the series just to collect more evidence for this post, so we will try to be satisfied with only listing the ones we remember off the top of our heads.

A quick list of epic moments Heesu In Class 2 delivered to a wider audience:

"Maybe everyone can see what I am trying so hard to hide." Starting off the series by showing Heesu's fear of someone discovering his crush.

Constant contrast between queer vs het experience/acceptance. TWICE calling out the difference in difficulty and risk for a queer person to confess a crush. "I'm pretending not to know."

"Before my secret swallows me up. Before I fall into this dark hole forever." Heesu talking about the danger of secrets in episode 9.

Seung Won talking to Heesu about his mom being with a woman after ending her unhappy marriage to his father, "They live together 'cause the like each other. It's much better than living with someone you don't like."

Heesu finding comfort when he learns that Seung Won sees nothing wrong with being queer:

"At least Seung Won wouldn't hate me just for being myself, or get mad because I'm different. The moment I thought that... the weight on my mind was lightened by the weight of just one person."

Seung Won's mom's willingness to lie to spare him from the judgement of others. Seung Won choosing the truth over the constant work it would take to live in a lie.

Heesu's fear of being outed when he receives that threat. The disgustingness and cruelty of someone being willing to out him for revenge.

We HATE Heesu and Seung Won trying to play off their relationship as a "bromance" in public. But we also LOVE it because once again it is in direct contrast/comparison to the het couple and including this bitter pill is both realistic for their story and shows the audience the inequality, fear and pain in not being accepted by society. So we hate that this poisoned our happy ending, but we hope it gives the larger audience something to think about.

Series like these plant the seeds that change hearts. ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

We sincerely hope this series reaches as many people as possible with it's important messaging. We have even decided to make a MyDramaList account just so we can support this series. Our hope is that this story moves some people. Causes them to stop and think. Gives them a new perspective. And hopefully finds it's way to some lonely Heesus out there and gives them hope.

[littleemissperfecttt]

The Youngest Sorrengail

About the story: Y/n is violets twin sister. Unlike violet y/n was trained to be a rider by her mother and to be a scribe by her father. The sisters have a strained relationship. Will y/n continue to resent violet because of the past or will she help her in surviving basgiath war college?

<<Previous Chapter Series Masterlist Next Chapter>>

Chapter 4

My brows furrow in confusion “Y/n Sorrengail” I said and shook his already outstretched hand. I think the confusion was evident on my face that he laughed “did you need anything?” I asked cautiously

“My squad had the Gauntlet training today morning” he said seriously “My time is five minutes thirty-seven seconds, I am the fastest in our year so far”

“You want me to clap for you?” I asked confused on why he’s giving me this information he laughed his seriousness melting away “No I wanted to tell you so I will have competition no one has beat me so far and you are the one I am counting on”

“So.. you want me to beat your ass? Is that what you are saying?” I asked amused by his comment

“I want you to try Sorrengail, we both are undefeated in sparr training and I am hoping to challenge you in the future” he said

“I will look forward to beating you in both Gauntlet and combat training Mairi” I said smiling at him

“I saw you, you know last night” he said “you beat Imogen’s ass in less than 5 seconds… no wonder Xaden talked highly of you”

“He talks about me?” I asked with an eyebrow raise, I was surprised to hear Xaden talks about me with his fellow marked ones

“Of course he does” Liam nodded “you are the talk among the marked ones because of last nights incidents, there are a few who don’t like that you are going to be helping us but there are a few who are praising you”

“Really? Can you tell me their names?” I asked curious to know who would praise me especially if they are marked

“Garrick, Xaden, Bhodi, Ryan, Imogen and now me” he said surprising me

“Imogen was praising me? I thought I bruised her ego with my kick last night!” I was so shocked that Imogen out of everyone would praise me especially after last night. ‘Maybe we can be friends after all Imogen’ I thought to myself as I smiled at Liam

“Oh you sure did bruise her ego” he said laughing “but you also made her come into her senses, that kick really got Imogen simping for you”

“What does that mean?” I asked confused

“Oh nothing~” he laughed and patted my shoulder “well all the best for your training and try your best in beating me Sorrengail” he gave me a quick smile before marching away

‘These interactions just keep getting interesting day after day’ I thought to myself as I stared at Liams retrieving back

-

After my strange conversation with Liam we are now in the gym. I am standing next to Ridoc watching Rhiannon fight someone. She is fighting with ease, she is going to win anyway so I don’t concentrate on her fight

“You think she will win?” Ridoc asked me “Obviously” I replied smiling

Ridoc and Sawyer had become brother like figures for me, they annoy the shit out of me but they care so much too. They make sure I don’t over exert or over work myself to a burn out. Always making sure if I had eaten or if I didn’t they would immediately get me something to eat. They were the first people I got comfortable with so easily. They made me feel welcomed in this hellhole

Rhiannon wins her match as Emetterio announced her as the winner. She walked toward us with a grin on her face which made me laugh “You did well Rhi” I smiled as Ridoc and Sawyer patted her back

“Thank you” she said smiling

I heard Emetterio clear his throat as he announced the next pair to combat one another “Y/n Sorrengail and Liam Mairi” I raised my eyebrows and smirked at Liam as I walked towards the mat

I heard Ridoc cheer for me “I am not losing my winning streak Mairi” I said as we circled one another on the mat “too bad I am not losing mine either” he said before lunging at me.

I ducked down and went to hit his abdomen but he was fast enough to catch my wrist ‘this is going to be fun’ I thought to myself as I encircled myself in his arm and hit his abdomen with my elbow

“Are they flirting or fighting?” I heard someone ask loudly as I rolled my eyes ‘its time to finish this’ I thought to myself as I grabbed him by the head and rolled over the mat. I held him onto a headlock position till he tapped the mat three times “Sorrengail wins this round” I heard Emetterio say as I left Liam

“That was a good match” I said and gave my hand to him to help him up “most definitely” he said smiling. We exchanged a few words about the match before going back to our squads

The next match was Violets but her partner was sick so Xaden volunteered to spar with her. I didn’t concentrate on the match as I didn’t want to see my sister at all. After the match Xaden approached me

“You know why I did it right?” he asked and I nodded

“Dain babys her a lot… this will teach her a lesson” I replied “Your match with Liam was great” he said smirking “well someone had to kick his ass” I said and smirked back “I have to go now… meet you later?” he asked as I nodded

-

A few hours later…

We are now practising for the Gauntlet the next challenge before the presentation and Threshing. I looked at the course where we have to go to survive till the threshing. I am very confident to know I am going to get the highest score among all the cadets including Liam

The Gauntlet is an obstacle course carved into a ridgeline, so steep that it resembles a cliff, separating the citadel from the flight field and the Vale. This cliff, which guards the Vale, features rugged terrain and zigzags across the ridgeline with distinct switchbacks of 180-degree turns. Each turn increasing in difficulty until the final ascent. The course is accessed through a bottleneck-prone gate, followed by a tunnel with a rocky path dimly lit by mage lights. The tunnel opens to a ten-foot-high archway leading to the base of the Gauntlet, perched thousands of feet above the valley. The greenery of the valley stretches endlessly to the south, dotted with clusters of squat trees and wildflower slopes.

A picture of Gaunlet from reddit

All the cadets have to finish this course before moving onto the presentation, presentation is where we are introduced to all the dragons. These are the dragons which will choose us during the Threshing

My turn was already over and I was sitting beside Ridoc as usual. I was trained for the whole course, this was like my Wednesday in the training I got when I was a kid. My time was 5.35 seconds 2 seconds less than Liam. I honestly did that to piss him off and take the challenge he made with me more seriously. I see Violet struggling but I won’t help her till she asks. I am not letting my pride go especially when it comes to my "family"

I was thinking about my life with my trainer. He had made me tough and ready for my life as a rider. He even tortured me for RSC, which will happen during my second year. I was molded into a soldier so I can be the sacrifice goat for the family or at least that’s what I think I am. My mother- Lilith Sorrengail- has never ever said she was proud of me for completing my training. It was just me and Brennan who cheered me on, till he left…

I shook my head away from the thoughts regarding my brother. It hurts a lot when it comes to thinking about him.

“What are you thinking about?” Ridoc asked nudging my shoulder, I could see the concern in his eyes as Sawyer also turned to look at me

“Nothing” I shook my head, they were not convinced with my answer so they gave me a pointed look “I was thinking of going to the Gym after dinner to train a little” I said which was not a lie I wanted to go to the Gym to train myself and some of the marked ones- Ryan

They nodded their head understanding as Violet came panting towards us and lay infront “its so difficult” she said breathless and looked at me

“You will get there Vi” Rhiannon cheered as Ridoc and Sawyer nodded their heads

“You know…” I started off looking at her “everything you carry from the parapet is a part of you right?”

She looked at me confused “Yeah… so?”

“Use this knowledge how you need” I said and stood up dusting my clothes

-

After dinner..

I trained Ryan a bit and taught him some of the techniques. He wasn’t an asshole like the last time I talked to him. He was kind and cooperative, I left him so he can continue practicing the technique I taught him for now

“He’s training hard” a voice came from behind me and I recognised it instantly

“Of course he is, who do you think is training him?” I asked teasingly as I turned to look at him

“You wanna train with me?” he asked and motioned for me to enter the mat and I did

“Where’s Xaden?” I asked not to sound obvious “I thought you both were joined by the hip” I took my fighting stance in front of Garrick as he laughed

“He had some wingleader stuff to do so I am here” he shrugged his shoulder

I glanced at Ryan to see if he was doing the technique right one last time before turning back to Garrick “You ready to get your ass kicked” I asked smirking

“I think you are talking to yourself in front of a mirror” he said matching my smirk

That smirk didn’t last long as I quickly punched him in the gut making him groan “playing dirty huh?” he went in to punch me and I did my famous side step and took him by the arm to flip him over but he was fast, very fast for my liking. “I have seen you do it too many times you can’t pull this shit on me” He said as he grabbed my waist and slammed me down on the ground pinning my hands above my head. I was about to kick him in the gut when we heard a shout of our names

“GARRICK! Y/N!!” and it was the devil himself- Xaden Riorsen

Masterlist Next Chapter>>

Tags: @lreadsstuff @lagrandeourse @littlepippilongstocking

[a-s-levynn]

Are you.. planning to do what i think you are planning to do? Because if yes, sign me the fuck up as the most excited person on the planet at this very moment. For real. And don't you dare say you are not an artist. You already made art.

artist /ˈɑːtɪst/ noun noun: artist; plural noun: artists 1. a person who creates paintings or drawings as a profession or hobby.

May i direct your attention to the OR A HOBBY part? You are an artist my friend, either you like it or not.

A Series of Small Offerings

or a Sleep Token prompt list based on lyrics

A 4 part art challenge that can be an extensive several weeks long endeavour or you can pick and choose the part(s) that interest you the most.

Big or small, wonky or beyond artistic, just a scribble or a masterpiece; drawing, sculpture, drabble, full on fanfic or even a piece of music? Everything has a place here so long you enjoy creating it. No offering is too small to be a worthy one. 🫶🏻

Pick one (or even both) of the lines from the given song. Take it as literal or abstract as an inspiration as you feel fitting and let the creativity flow.

Worship. 🙏🏻

(edited version with Shelter added, a line switched for TMBTE, corrected Blood Sport lyrics)

PART I - ONE, TWO and the singles

Thread the Needle

You turn the lights down / Come on and find out or Just look at where we're lying / An invisible space

2. Fields of Elation

The daylight recedes in unison, this room / Buries the hours like death, in motion or And nobody else can pull me out / And the fields of elation, quiet and loamy

3. When the Bough Breaks

We could stay suspended / Even when the bough breaks or You don't really love, you just hate to be alone

4. Calcutta

I sweat and I ache for / Your eyes and the way you breathe or Melting skywards more than silence broken / I'm whole again for just a moment

5. Nazareth

Building you a kingdom / Dripping from the open mouth, [I'll show you] or Manifest pain at the core of pleasure / I'll see you when the wrath comes around

6. Jerico

Tread, ancient water salt / Like I sink, down like precious stones or My hands are not worthy

7. Jaws

The whites of your eyes burn / From across the room or Caged and always provoked / By prey left unattended

8. The Way That You Were

To tear that knife from what once / Would have been dead fingers or And you will no longer / Stand between collapsing walls

PART II - Sundowning

The Night Does Not Belong To God

The whites of your eyes / Turn black in the lowlight in turning divine or And the night comes down like heaven

2. The Offering

And you are a garden, entwined with all / You are the silence on sacred shores or So take a bite, I want to know

3. Levitate

And we imitate a story of perfect days / A ballad we fabricate or Will you levitate / Up where my love doesn't matter?

4. Dark Signs

And where we met, there must have been dark signs / Omens in your skies or And I hate who I have become (I might break and bend to my basic need to be loved and close to somebody)

5. Higher

And we are exhausted by all this pretending / We just can't resist the violence or When you're alone / I am granting you more than / The debt that I owe

6. Take Aim

And it sends me shivers / How you love like weapons kill or Call, won't you call out my name? / Like a curse on this world?

7. Give

I'll tear the fibre from the filament / I'll be the limit of your light again or Want to give you all that I can give / All my darkest impulses

8. Gods

No more teeth to bite with / No more smiling faces i am alone again or Like fire from the heavens / Tearing me asunder beside you

9. Sugar

We still know how to feed / We still know how to bleed or Let me wrap the chains / Addicted to the pain, oh

10. Say That You Will

Is that a glint in your eye? / Is that a blade in your palm? or In this light you are mine

11. Drag Me Under

And I know the gods will abandon the heavens just to find us or Hold me beneath the surface (And I know the angels tonight are as lost for words)

12. Blood Sport

Even if the sky cracks in mourning / And the heavens just won't open up for me or Tangled with what I never said / You say it doesn't matter

13. Shelter

When it rains, you don't take shelter / You don't take signs from God or And as you become part of my waking rituals, I can tell / You gather up all of my demons

PART III - This Place Will Become Your Tomb

Atlantic

Crumble like a temple built from future daughters / To wasteland when the oceans recede or So flood me like Atlantic, weather me to nothing / Wash away the blood on my hands

2. Hypnosis

Lift, oh, lift me out / Of my own skin or Split my skin, no / Just make me bleed

3. Mine

We balance fire in the earth we walk / Will never stop me reaching forth or With colors over all the wasted years / Eternity will bring you near

4. Like That

New weapons to snap those final strings / Just to watch me fall back or Push down into membranes and layers / Creating a slow dissection

5. The Love You Want

Too many swallowed keys / Will make you bleed internally someday, oh or Now keep the freakshow talk / To a careful minimum

6. Fall For Me

In a city of ice there are burning cathedrals / Turning the skies into glass or And I feel like I'm losing touch with what I am again / And slowly I remember why I cannot pretend

7. Alkaline

It's too late for me now, I am altered / There is something beneath or I see in a different light / The objects of my desire

8. Distraction

'Cause I am broken into fractions / Oh, and I am driven to distraction or Something much more than I could ask for

9. Descending

Create, release or My love withers and chokes in perfect awe

10. Telomeres

And we go beyond the farthest reaches / Where the light bends and wraps beneath us or Through death / My arms are open

11. High Water

When the mouth of infinity / Buries its teeth in me or Wash me clean again before I pull myself beneath the waves

12. Missing Limbs

The blessings rain on battles in the heaven's arms or 'Cause it still makes my blood run cold / To remember what I did before

PART IV - Take Me Back To Eden

Chokehold

A sacred guardian or Even if I can't sleep / Oh, and though we act out of our holy duty to be constantly awake

2. The Summoning

A taste of the divine or Take me past the edge / I want to see the other side

3. Granite

Between the second hand smoke and the glass on the street or Never mind the death threats / Parting at the door

4. Aqua Regia

Following a bloodtrail, frothing at the maw or Between the pain and the way you look / I'm stuck in a time where the mountains shook

5. Vore

You have become the voice in my head or Will we remain stuck in the throat of gods? / Will the pain stop if we go deeper?

6. Ascensionism

Your reflection, your bitter deception / Setting you free or With one eye on the door, other eye on a rail / Other, other eye following a scarlet trail

7. Are You Really Okay?

I was trying to hold back the darkness or But I, I don't believe you when you tell me you are fine

8. The Apparition

I wake up to a suicide frenzy / Loaded dreams still leave me empty or Just let me go or take me with you

9. DYWTYLM

Do you pull at the chains? / Or do you push into constant aching? or Do you ever believe / That we can turn into different people?

10. Rain

Refracted in light, reflected in sound or And I know, I know, I am what I am / The mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb

11. Take Me Back To Eden

We dive through crystal waters, perfect oceans / But no one told me not to breathe or I'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired / Reset my patient violence along both lines of a pathway higher

12. Euclid

The night belongs to you / This bough has broken through or The whites of your eyes / Turn black in the low light

Thank you so much if you took any part of this on or just read through it.

Never forget, that the most important thing is that no matter what,

Worship 🙏🏻

[ichorai]

chiropterology — drawing them in.

drabble synopsis ; damian wayne takes on his toughest challenge yet: making friends. warnings ; mentions of cancer.

series masterlist.

Shhk! Shhk! Ksshhk!

Damian’s grip on the sword never faltered as he struck the dummy, relishing the feeling of its synthetic skin splitting open, sand spilling out of its open wounds, trickling to form small piles onto the ground of the training arena.

“Damian? Are you okay?” Bruce asked, watching his son slash at the dummy with fast, furious strokes. 

“My teacher said I should try to make friends at school. Apparently, the other students are intimidated by me.” Three more quick slashes, and Damian spared his father a glance over his shoulder. “As if I need friends!”

Damian sliced the dummy’s faceless head clean off. It landed onto the floor with a resounding thud, spilling sand everywhere. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to make friends?” Bruce said. “It’ll certainly help maintain your civilian identity.”

At this, Damian paused. He reluctantly jabbed at the dummy’s torn torso. “I am… not sure how.”

Bruce’s expression softened. He drew closer to his son, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “What about Superboy? You’re friends with him.”

“Tch. He does not count.”

“And why not?” 

Damian frowned. “He has superpowers, for one. And he is very similar to a leech. Once he latches, he refuses to let go.”

“I think loyal is a nicer word to use than leech,” Bruce said, wincing. 

“Whatever.”

Bruce nodded, trying to think it through. “Making friends… right. Hm.”

In all honesty, he had very little experience himself in the matter. All his friends seemed to just… fall out of the sky and into his life. Sometimes quite literally.

“I’ll call a family meeting.”

Damian tore his gaze away from the dummy he shredded and up at his father, feeling bile rise up his throat. “No, that is not necessary—”

“Too late,” Bruce said, smirking down at him, already having texted the family group chat: Family meeting, library, five minutes. Helping Damian make friends!

Despite Damian’s initially angry countenance, he was glad his father recruited the help of the others. It was clear his father was very inexperienced in the art of making friends. 

Dick was in Bludhaven helping out a few of his friends, and Tim and Cass were out patrolling with Babs monitoring them. That left just you, Bruce, Duke, Jason, and Steph sitting around the library’s seats. 

“Okay!” Steph exclaimed, placing the tips of her fingers to her lips in thought as she scrutinized Damian. “First step to making friends is trying to find common interests with them! What kind of stuff are you into?”

Damian thought back to his training not ten minutes ago. “Swords,” he said. 

He appreciated you nodding in agreement, but you pretended you hadn’t been vehemently bobbing your head when Duke said, “How about something less, er… stabby?”

“I have always been intrigued by world domination.”

To his left, Jason snorted into his fist. Damian scowled at him.

“World domination is a fair topic to discuss with friends you already have,” you admitted. “But maybe not the best to gain them.”

“What about animals?” Bruce offered. “You’re very good with them.”

Damian thought about Murder King for a moment, smiling down at his lap. “Oh, yes. Animals are nice.”

“Great! You can try bonding with them over that?” It was funny how Bruce sounded so unsure about his own suggestion, but Damian didn’t seem to notice.

Duke snapped a finger. “What about clubs? Or sports teams?”

“Tennis!” Damian exclaimed. 

“I didn’t know you liked tennis,” said Bruce, brows raised.

“I do not. A boy on the tennis team once insulted Father’s honor by saying Batman is the weakest superhero in the Justice League. I have been training to destroy him on the court!” Damian said, entirely serious. This time, you and Jason exchanged a look before simultaneously snorting into your fists.

“Not against the idea, but still not the best for friend-making, Damian,” you reminded. 

Bruce nodded. “Your mother’s right—I do appreciate the sentiment, though. Jason? Do you have any suggestions? You’ve been quiet this whole meeting.” 

Jason lolled his head back on the seat, emitting a long hmmm. Similar to Bruce, most of his friends just seemed to… stumble into him along the way. “I mean—I broke my best friend out of prison once.”

“Not helpful,” Bruce snapped. Jason rolled his eyes. 

“Ooh! I could potentially make a ray that forges new neural pathways enough to convince them you are friend, not foe. I would just need a ton of strong radioactive material to break down the existing neural pathways… could potentially result in terrible brain damage, but we can work around that…”

The kids and Bruce stared at you with blank eyes. 

“So… mind control with a side of brain cancer?” Duke asked, scratching the back of his neck.

You crossed your arms, grumbling. “Well, if you put it that way…”

“Yeah, no,” Steph said. “As cool as that sounds in theory, I don’t think Damian should be trusted with something like that.”

“I resent that,” Damian said. Though, admittedly, even he didn’t dislike his classmates enough to want to give them brain cancer so they would be his friends. “I give up. This has been singularly unhelpful!” 

Frowning, Bruce told him, “You’ll be fine, Damian. Just trust your instincts!”

He could do this. Of course he could. He had defeated men five times larger than him. He had climbed mountains taller than the naked eye could see. He had helped put more criminals behind bars than the stars in the light-polluted Gotham sky. How hard could it possibly be to make new friends?

He had an unhelpful phone call with Brown before class started, where she had told him he was nervous from his described symptoms of sweaty palms and racing heart—which he was not, thank you very much! Damian Wayne did not get nervous! Then, he texted you. He appreciated how you replied almost immediately.

Damian: Mother. Brown said I am nervous. I am not.  Damian: But in case I was… Do you have anything to remedy such an affliction? Mother: Slow n deep breaths, hon!!! I get jittery all the time too Mother: Make a mental list of the tasks you want to accomplish, that usually helps me calm down and compartmentalize Damian: Noted. Mother: Luv you bear!!! go kick some butt (metaphorically) Mother: Pls don’t actually kick butt Mother: One more detention and you might get suspended 

Damian pocketed his phone once you started spamming him with frightened emoticons. 

The first attempt at making friends… did not go so well. His classmates were chattering behind him about a video they saw online when Damian interjected that he had a pet cow. And two dogs. And a cat that shared his name with Damian’s housekeeper.

The boys exchanged awkward glances, said, “Cool!” And then they all moved on to a different subject, leaving Damian back at square one. Great.

The second attempt was less of a direct approach, and moreso just staring at a list of clubs, as Thomas had suggested. He skipped over tennis for now—avenging Father’s honor would have to wait.

School newspaper? No—they required you to always be available after school, and Damian often went out on patrol in the evenings. Chess? Tempting since he knew he was good at it, but no—he already played enough chess at home, he would find the club such a bore. Dungeons and dragons? He, initially, had thought it a perfect club since he pictured it would contain literal dungeons to escape from and literal fire-breathing dragons. Come to find that it was just a stupid board game.

As Damian pondered over other ways he could acquire friends, he began doodling onto his sketchbook. He sketched an outline of Murder King sunbathing by a window first, then a more detailed drawing of Oracle’s wheelchair, then another of a fire-breathing dragon with pointy bones protruding from its spine. Even after all his drawing, Damian’s mind still came up blank.

And so he resorted to his final option in a moment of desperation. He texted his big brother for advice.

Damian: I cannot seem to make friends. Nothing I do works. Grayson: Just be yourself! That’s all that matters. Damian: Perhaps Todd was right. I should break someone out of prison. Grayson: Uh… Grayson: Please don’t do that.

“Woah!” exclaimed a voice from beside him. Damian looked away from his phone to see one of his classmates peering at his drawings with wide eyes. “That’s really good! Did you draw all that?”

“Um… yes. Thank you?” Damian wasn’t very familiar with niceties. But that was how one made friends, right? Being nice?

“Who taught you how to draw?” She sat down beside him, appearing genuinely interested to know more.

Damian blinked at her before slowly responding. “Nobody taught me. I focused my studies on other matters.”

The girl slumped forward to rest her chin on a propped up fist. “Yeah, I get that. My parents are always forcing me to practice math, but I just don’t really care for it as much as I like to draw.”

Just be yourself, Grayson had told him. Of course. Right. Easy. 

“That is fair. Math can be quite repetitive,” said Damian.

“I know right? I mean it’s always just the same old problems with the same steps over and over again. I like art because there’s no solutions to anything. It’s just—you on a page.” 

Damian glanced down at his drawings again. “I never thought about it that way.”

The girl smiled. “Hey—me and my friends go to the art room after school to work on drawings and paintings and stuff. Would you wanna join us?”

Taken aback, Damian fumbled with his words. “I… Really? Is that… okay? For me to join?”

“Sure!” she grinned. “It’s only me and two others. I’m sure they’d be happy for you to come hang out.”

Was this… how people made friends? Damian tilted his head in thought. “Alright. I will be happy to come along.”

“Great! I’m Skylar, by the way. It’s nice to meet you…?”

“Damian. My name is Damian.”

After he waved goodbye to his new friend, who had to dash off to inform the other two about his joining, Damian pulled out his phone once more to inform his family of his success. 

Damian: Mission accomplished. I think. Grayson: Good job, buddy! I knew you could do it!

His optimism was irritating, but… contagious.

Damian: Thank you for your advice earlier, Mother. It helped. Damian: Could you pick me up thirty minutes later than usual, please? I am going to the art room after school. Damian: With a new friend. Mother: AHH! I’m so happy for you hon :)  Mother: I’ll have Alfred bake some celebratory cookies!!!

Damian smiled down at the screen. He could feel his stomach coil with nervous excitement—both at the thought of making new friends, and his family celebrating him.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sparkle in my Eye 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Syverson and Gem.

Summary: there’s more growing in the garden than flowers.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Sy stares at the back of his truck. He tugs at his beard nervously. He never meant to hurt Gem. He was protecting her. Things just... got away from him.

He sighs and takes his hat off. The brim is soaked with his sweat. The heat has never been his friend but today it's got him pouring buckets. Maybe it's more than the sun.

He tales out his keys and steps forward. The jingle breaks the lull of the gentle breeze.

"Think you jumped the gun?" Bucky snorts as he struts by.

Sy growls. He doesn't offer any further explanation. He already told them. He saved her. These idiots are just jealous.

He shoves the key into the slot and turns. He opens the truck bed slowly. A squeak escapes her lungs as the sunlight glares over the open door.

Shoot. Her eyes are round in fear. The fan is still going, keeping the air moving, but even so, she's drenched in sweat. She stares back at him, eye crested in unspent tears.

He pulls her out gently and helps her sit up. He keeps hold of her shoulders. She wobbles and bats her lashes at him. She's so beautiful. She moans behind the tape.

"Look, I'm--" He squeezes until he feels her support herself. "I'm sorry about all this, sweetie. It wasn't what I was meaning." He peels the tape off.

"Christ, Sy," Bucky scoffs as he leans against the fence. Gem's eyes dart over to the other men then all around. This won't help. All these strangers.

"That guy, followed you into the bathroom. It got outta hand, I know, but--"

"Ow," she hangs her head. "Sy, my arms hurt."

He crumples up the tape and shoves it in his pocket. He steps closer and reaches around her. She cowers, so much smaller than him. He wants to hug her and tell her it will all be alright. He's going to give her everything.

He unties her hands and tosses the belt into the truck bed. She wipes her forehead.

"Sy, you're an idiot," Bucky clucks as he approaches.

"Yes," Gem snarls and snaps her head up. "A big idiot!"

She swings her foot up into his crotch. The blinding pain makes him pucker and bend over. She brings her nails up and drags them down his cheeks, digging into his flesh. He yowls and recoils. Bucky hollers, "Shittttttt."

Gem turns and scrambles over the hatch door and hops off. She runs through the dust, pumping her arms and huffing as she sprints away. Sy growls and rubs his cheeks as he straightens up. He hurtles forward to catch her.

She's quick. He loses sight of her fast and hears her squeal. He catches up as that man who showed up a couple minutes ago, stands with Jense. His name is Nick or something. He has his arm around her neck and a hand over her mouth. She wriggles in his grasp. Sy flares at the sight of another touching his Gem.

The man laughs and shoves her towards him. Sy catches her. She tries to swat him again.

"Sy," Jensen huffs.

"I didn't mean to..." he begins, taking stock of that man he never met before.

"Take her inside. Cole's parents aren't deaf." Jensen commands.

Sy nods and struggles to rein in Gem as she thrashes. He hikes her up over his shoulder and turns away. He's ashamed. He's just messing it all up.

"I don't want to put you down there, ya know?" He says to her as her knees thump into his chest. He finds it hard to breathe through her resistance.

"At least you caught her," Bucky taunts.

"Shut up," Sy snarls. "You gonna help or talk shit?"

"Could do both," Bucky scoffs but steps forward. He beckons Steve with him.

"Cole," Bucky calls across the clearing. The owner appears, his sandy hair messy. "Gotta put this one away."

"This one? She's not a thing," Sy grits.

"Uh huh, That's why you picked her off the shelf like a doll," Bucky retorts.

"Fuck you!" Gem flails out and catches a lock of Bucky's hair. He yelps as he latches on and swings her other fist. "You're all a buncha perverts! Old men! Dirty old men!"

She lands three punches on Bucky before Steve twists her wrist back. He gets a fist of his own as she redirects. The skinny man stumbles and grunts.

"Sweetie, come on. Don't be like that."

She hangs down his back and locks her arm around his thick middle. She sinks her nails into him and bites the muscle along his back. He cries out but keeps hold of her.

"Argh! Sweetie! Argh! You're hurtin' me. Don't--"

She's yanked back and Sy feels her teeth scrape him through the cotton. Bucky has her by the hair as he pulls her away like a feral cat. Sy turns and slides her off his shoulder.

"You're hurting her," he says.

"She fucking hit me and she's about to infect you with whatever's got her so wild," Bucky snarls.

"She's scared--"

"And who's fault is that, moron?" Bucky barks.

"Hey, you're not making it any better," Steve says as he rubs his cheek. "Hey, honey, we're not bad guys. We're helping--"

She kicks out and Steve barely moves out of her reach. Sy wraps his arms around her middle and pulls her off her feet. She's not listening. If she did, she wouldn't be acting this way.

"Cole," Sy thunders, putting on the voice he never wanted to use around her. "Open the damn door."

He turns and carries her, squirming and snapping, towards the hatch in the ground. She just needs time. She'll realise that life she had before wasn't good for her. He's good for her. He can be great for her.

[whatisamildopinion]

thinking about Aasimar au warlock Kristen again (wow what a series of words lmao) so have some more silly thoughts about it:

- when Kristen first multiclasses Fig says "don't worry, I got you, I know a lady" and drags them both to see Zara. Zara looks at these two (Kristen, literally about to vibrate out of existence with excitement and happiness, Riz, looking like he's five seconds away from hyperventilating to death) and is like "oh this one's gonna be interesting"

- Zara Sool takes one look at this poor rogue-paladin-patron who looks like he's gonna have a mental breakdown, but deep in his heart trusts Kristen enough to dedicate his love and his time and his magic and his oath and his goddamn soul to this girl (warlock relationships are about exchange, after all, even if he doesn't know that yet. Kristen isn't the only one who's handed away her soul to safer hands with this) and says ">:) I'm gonna trick this boy into talking about his feelings." the following conversation goes pretty much like this:

Zara: look it's really safer for Kristen herself if you tell her what's going on with yourself emotionally, otherwise you might make a faulty contract, which will put her soul in danger.

passive investigation of 21 Riz: >:((( you're trying to guilt trip me

Zara: yeah, is it working????

Riz: ..............maybe

- following Zara's intervention, Riz and Kristen sit down and have a real conversation about their fears and their struggles and the things they want from their lives. Riz admits that he's scared that none of them will stay together after high school and that's why he's pushing so hard to keep them together. Kristen tells him that, yeah, she can't guarantee what will happen after high school, but that they're all prepared to work to keep their friendships, and that she in particular is gonna make sure she's always always friends with him. Kristen talks about the specific things she's been struggling with between school and her religion and they make a plan to help her and also actually talk to Jawbone and Sandra Lynn because Jesus this girl needs help. so after this conversation they make the most detailed fucking contract that has ever been (Riz's anxiety goes crazy) and they show up back to warlock class like "is this good?" and present Zara with an absolute mess of a document that is overflowing with footnotes and sticky notes and annotations and is written in this unholy mess of common-goblin-celestial-rogue cipher, but she kinda quizzes them on it, and lo and behold, they have it fucking memorized

- Riz is still pretty worried so Zara fully enlists her paramour to come down and talk him into being a little bit calmer. Zara and her paramour think this is the cutest thing ever.

- Zara tells Riz he can audit warlock class if he's still nervous about it but he's like "fuck no, if I'm taking a class I am damn well gonna get credit for it" and gets his mcat signed to do three classes. Fig-Kristen-Riz are the terrors of the warlock class but also the best students Zara has ever had. everyone both loves and hates them in there (but mostly loves. they're just too cool)

-after The Conversation, Kristen drags Riz to have another Conversation with the rest of the bad kids, and they echo all her sentiments about staying friends even if they go their separate ways after high school (except Adaine and Riz, who nail down that at least they are gonna go to college together). so even though it feels super unnatural, Riz kind of takes a breath like a whole half a year early. he stops pushing them so hard to perform academically, but the rest of them finally understand why he was doing that, and also understand the consequences of the party failing a little more. so they're all just trying their best, but more organically

- Kristen is technically borrowing from Riz's well of power, and he's not like, a full angel or anything (yet) but magic is a muscle. the more you use it, the stronger it gets. and again, warlock relationships are about exchange. so what happens is that as soon as Kristen starts using her warlock magic routinely, Riz finds that his smites are getting more powerful??? his radiant soul damage is increasing???? he suddenly has access to spell slots he shouldn't??? turns out, power borrowed is power returned, and while his power base is incredible, Kristen is a much more accomplished spellcaster than he is, so she exercises his magic more effectively than he does, and he starts getting more powerful as she gets more comfortable in her powers

-Riz can feel whenever Kristen is using her warlock powers. sometimes she'll start eldritch blasting shit for fun along with fig and five minutes later her crystal will start blowing up like "kristen what are your doing that requires eldritch blast every ten seconds" and then she has to admit that she and fig were seeing who could eldritch blast tin cans off the roof of mordred better

-Riz's wings kind of start to, for lack of a better word, calcify? like, they're still intangible, but they start sticking around even when he's not in radiant soul form. just two ghostly, intangible wings always hanging out, and they only start to really glow when he actually turns on Radiant Soul. he has a flying speed now. he's also frantically researching whether or not its possible for aasimar to start organically rising to angelhood because THIS ISN'T NORMAL, KRISTEN STOP TRYING TO GRAB THEM! (everyone else is so enamoured with his wings. he starts using them like his tail to wrap around people and even though they're intangible everyone swears up and down that they feel cooler and calmer and safer when wrapped up in a Riz wing)

-Kristen and Riz start to more or less have the same magical signature because they're sharing so much power. a side effect of this is that if Kristen is in the room, and Riz is stealthing, even casting something like Detect Evil and Good won't give him away, because his aura is so much like Kristen's and vice versa. they abuse this relentlessly to get Clues. kristen is team distraction and riz is team extraction

-at some point Adaine approaches the two of them like "hey all this stuff that's happening is totally fascinating, can I write a research paper about it?"

"sure," says Riz, "but only if you list us as co-contributors for college credit and stuff"

"well, duh," responds Adaine, and the three of them proceed to make the most detailed paper the world has ever seen about the magical and physical effects of a patron-warlock relationship between two mortals. it comes out sometime in their senior year and the magical research community loses their shit

-Kristen gets up to second level warlock in junior year, and her eldritch invocations are Eldritch Mind and Eyes of the Rune Keeper. the first time she realizes she can just read every single language her friends speak she cries. also she's sooooo scary now. she can hold two concentrations at once AND has advantage on concentration checks. terrifying.

-soooo many prospective warlock students start approaching riz and fig for warlock powers. they didn't know you could just ask normal students!!! (riz and fig are not normal students but that is beside the point.) fig thinks it is amusing. riz thinks it is stressful. kristen thinks it is fucking stupid, like, it's not like he's gonna share, no, I'm not jealous, what are you talking about? at one point it gets so frustrating for riz that he gets up on a table in the middle of the lunch period and shouts "blanket statement for everyone who is not in my party, NO I WILL NOT BE YOUR PATRON, STOP ASKING!!!" the bad kids think it's the funniest thing, but they're also being hella protective of riz and fig. everyone stop BOTHERING them, no they're NOT interested in being your patron!! the number of physical fights that they've all gotten in because of this, in order of least to most, is riz (2, on behalf of fig), kristen (3, on behalf of riz), fig (5, on behalf of riz), fabian (7, on behalf of both), gorgug (8, on behalf of both), and adaine (14, on behalf of both). after about a month everyone has mostly taken the hint

-kristen develops a terrible habit of just. hexing anyone who even remotely annoys her. you were breathing too obnoxiously in class today? blocked hexed. you said something mildly shitty about one of her friends? hexed. aelwyn took the last bagel at breakfast and she really wanted it? hexed. she's experiencing the newfound freedom of being a hater. riz is texting her like "kristen why are you hexing someone at nine in the morning" and she's like "I am experiencing little sister rage for the first time in my life, leave me alone"

-Buddy Dawn does not know what the fuck to make of Kristen's warlock multiclass. she makes him fully bluescreen. Bobby Dawn and Kipperlilly, on the other hand, are absolutely incandescent with rage. they're gonna die mad about it.

-on the other end of the spectrum, Kristen and Riz break Bucky's brain open. he speedruns the emotional crisis that Kristen had freshman year when he Divine Senses their magical connection and nearly cries because he can feel this absolutely overwhelming love. he never knew anyone else could love kristen than fiercely. nothing that full of love could ever be bad

-ooouuuuuugggghhhhh there comes a terrible scene between riz and cassandra where she is like "she believes in you more than me" and riz has to be like "maybe. but that doesn't mean she doesn't believe in you. kristen has enough faith to go around. and so do I. I'm still counting on you too." it's about sharing the most important person in your life. self-recognition through the other (bittersweet). "I see why she loves you so much" says cassandra, and for the first time riz doesn't sort of still feel the nightmare king beneath her, and for the first time she feels him as someone to exist alongside without competing with. and riz, who is kind of sort of maybe ascending to angelhood, is not really becoming an angel of cassandra's pantheon, but he's also not not becoming that

-just. augh. kristen and riz are literally so sickeningly happy as patron and warlock. absolutely attached at the hip. best friends of all time. saint kristen applebees and her own personal guardian angel. they make me ill

anyway that is all, thank you for coming to my TED talk

[a-spes]

{NATASHA ROMANOFF MASTERLIST }

❝ At some point, we all have to choose between what the world wants you to be and who you are. ❞

( ✿ ) fluff/comfort — ( ❆ ) angst — ( ☣ ) dark ( ❦ ) adults only — ( ✴︎ ) people's favorite (golden trio) — ( ♡ ) requests

{ Series }

➺ Before the Storm, 8.354 words. ( ✿ ❆ ) warnings : mentions of suicidal and depressive thoughts, typical canon violence, panic attack, strangulation.

From the ashes of a fallen kingdom, a threat that everyone thought was defeated shall rise once more, sentencing a second realm to the same fate. The prophecy foretells that the apparition of a young woman where she never belonged will herald the end of everything. Can the impending doom be forestalled, or will the destruction of Earth become inevitable?

➺ Devious Lies, 30.157 words. ( ❆ ♡ ) warnings : mental healh issues, suidical ideation, mentions of SA&SH, revenge porn, severe injuries.

When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It may have been two years since the events, but you still can't stop think about what you've lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.

➺ Driving Past the Red Lights, 0 words. ( ✿ ❆ ) warnings : none for now.

when yelena accidentally kills their driver, the women have to find a new one, and quick. natasha has found one, you, and it's safe to say she won't take no for an answer, determined to draw you into her world. one that is made out of violence and blood. one that's unforgiving and will force you to face your demons.

➺ Pretty faces, dark souls, 10.417 words. ( ✿ ❆ ☣ ) part one. part two. part three. part four. warnings : kidnapping, starvation.

you robbed the wrong person, and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not.

➺ The place we've been dreaming of, 2.252 words. ( ✿ ❆ ☣ ) part one. part two. part three. warnings : human pet, past abuses.

when Natasha enventually gives in, and accept her wife's demand to adopt a pet.

{ One-shots and drabbles }

➺ All the things I am not, 3.097 words. ( ✿ ❆ ✴︎ ) warnings : self-hatred, severe injuries, insecurities.

Since Peter Parker joined the team, things aren't the same anymore. Why does everyone seem to prefer him to you?

➺ Rise of the darkness, 2.000 words. ( ❆ ) warnings : major character death, past suicide attempt.

your family is cursed but you thought you were better, that you could keep the Beast away so you told no one about it. It turns out you can't.

➺ Six feet away, 2.600 words. ( ❆ ) warnings : none.

you were Natasha's girlfriend. It has been a year since she died and you still can't accept it, visiting her grave whenever you can.

➺ Stained hearts, 1.400 words. ( ✿ ) warnings : none.

Fury sent you and Natasha on a mission even if he knows you are in a relationship.

➺ Stolen freedom, 5.100 words. ( ❆ ♡ ) warnings : none for now.

Natasha became the most feared assassin yet again and a ruthless criminal, while you are working for the government, trying to take her down. You eventually face Nat' for the first time in years.

➺ The blood on my hands, 3.200 words. ( ✿ ❆ ) warnings : form of self-harm.

when you kill someone on duty for the first time, Natasha is the one being here to stop you from falling.

➺ The dog's fall, 5.200 words. ( ✿ ❆ ☣ ✴︎ ) warnings : human trafficking, past abuses.

anyone that can beat her in a fight will earn her, and Natasha intends to be the one, working hard to get what she thinks is hers. A dog can't fight for eternity, can it?

➺ The shot you missed, 3.000 words. ( ✿ ✴︎ ) warnings : panic attack, guns.

you're spending a day at the fair with your girlfriend, the sweetest mob boss that possibly exists, and she makes sure that you've a good day.

[anadrym]

Extended Author's Notes for Left Behind Ch17.

Spoilers!

Chapter title is from "Cascade" by Satron Paint Samuel. Very pretty song. :)

At 5590 words, this is the longest chapter so far! It will be dethroned by the next one, which is pushing 7k.

I feel like I keep making Cait touch Vi's tattoo, but like. Of course she does. It's her name, the name they tried to turn into a number but couldn't. And names have kinda become a thing in this fic. Caitlyn and Ghost, Vi and Number 6 / "the girl", [REDACTED] and [REDACTED], etc.

And, of course, one of the first things Caitlyn tells Petra is Vi's name. :')

Okay, so the whole part with Caitlyn panicking about the serum and whether it's keeping Vi alive? That was all added later. I'll admit, I originally forgot to address it until y'all brought it up in the comments a few chapters back. I couldn't find a place to fit it sooner, which ended up working out. Cait was too preoccupied with getting them out to consider it, so she didn't think about it until she was safe enough.

So, I don't know if this is a big reveal or anything, but... The Baroness completely misled Caitlyn (and you guys). The serum they've been using in Maintenance is entirely to keep Vi under control. It has absolutely nothing to do with Vi's revival after being shot. That was achieved via a different serum, which has not been necessary since.

Also, I love Petra just cutting off that downward spiral by calling bullshit. It's a conclusion Caitlyn would have come to on her own if it wasn't her partner's life that she was fretting over.

During her realization, Caitlyn goes absolutely still - no blinking, barely breathing, staring blankly into the distance - which is why Petra looks so unnerved.

Vi's head injury (from the bullet) is completely healed. It is not affecting her ability to understand speech or anything. That's entirely the control serum (an unintended side effect that the Baroness happily took advantage of). So, as soon as they can get the serum out of her system, she'll be able to start verbally communicating again.

They will end up doing a series of blood transfusions. We're not going to see them (I'm tired of Vi being unconscious, so we'll be back with her next chapter), but they happen and they help.

I don't like writing hospitals. I don't know how they work and I'm honestly not quite interested enough to find out. So I will avoid them as much as possible in my writing. That's why Caitlyn refuses. Luckily, Petra knows someone who knows someone.

Petra sees how pale Caitlyn is, sees that her hands are shaking, and realizes that Caitlyn needs to eat and drink. She doesn't say anything until after all of Vi's wounds are bandaged because she knows Cait won't even listen until then.

The bruising from the restraints is on Vi's wrists and ankles; since the injuries are on the insides of her elbows and thighs, Petra isn't too worried about bandages there triggering something. She has to ask about Vi's neck because she doesn't want to risk it.

(I want to write a fic where Vi is collared. The guard dog imagery is just too good to pass up.)

Oh, I am never going to get enough of side characters calling Vi and Caitlyn each other's "girl." There's just something about "your girl." The recognition of their complete and utter devotion to each other, to the point of possession and codependence? Maybe?

I think it's really good that Petra calls Caitlyn out here. 'Do you trust me or not? If you came here for help, then let me help you.' She knows Caitlyn is still in survival mode, where she can't trust anyone, and she's telling her that she made it. She doesn't have to just keep surviving. She's safe now, and she can let herself feel all the things she's been surpressing. She can let someone else take over for a bit. She can focus on healing.

I was having so much trouble keeping track of who was on which side of the bed. I'll have to sketch it later.

Caitlyn keeps touching Vi lightly, afraid of waking her or triggering her or hurting her. And Vi keeps pressing into the touches. Cait is focused (for now) on the physical wounds. By Vi is used to hurting; she just wants the comfort of a touch without the intent to harm.

Cait is still in survival mode. Everything is a potential threat. Which is why she reaches for her gun when Petra comes back into the room. Petra can tell that Cait still needs time to let go of that defensiveness, so she doesn't hold it against her.

I originally had Petra give Caitlyn a glass of water, but when I was editing, I was like, "Oh, wait, she has low blood sugar! She needs some juice!"

Hooray! She's eaten one (1) whole sandwich! She's had water and juice! Yay!

Yes, Petra is actively trying to give Caitlyn even the smallest sense of normalcy that she can.

Petra giving them clothes makes me think of Captain Shakespeare in Stardust. :)

A new problem comes to light. If Vi hasn't eaten in years, then her digestive system absolutely has to be eased back into functioning. Which means that they'll have to keep administering nutrients and fluids intravenously. I'm sure that won't freak Vi out at all.

Petra absolutely has done this before. Caitlyn will find out more about it during the very brief timeskip between this chapter and the next. You guys will learn about it when Vi does.

Petra remembered Caitlyn's name! She's gonna keep calling her 'Ghost' though, until Cait says otherwise. She only uses 'Caitlyn' now because she's desperate for Cait to let someone to help her, even if it's just for ten minutes.

Mmm, and the recognition that the separation anxiety is two-sided. A well-warranted, though frankly unhealthy, amount of codependence. (They'll work on it.)

Caitlyn's reflection kinda makes the 'Ghost' moniker a little too fitting.

Cait leaves her dirty clothes in the bathroom. Petra will run them through the laundry and will find Tobias' ring. Just for everyone keeping track of where it is. ;)

Hell yeah! Emotional breakdown in the shower! Write what you fucking know!

Leave Caitlyn alone and unsupervised and she will go through your cabinets and steal your unused toothbrushes.

Survival mode again. Caitlyn trusts Petra, but still almost panics when the woman is between her and Vi (bear behavior), and when she can't see what she's doing. Logic vs. Fear.

Vi will get her earrings back, don't worry. One of you pointed out that they're all she has left from before the Purge and it almost made me cry.

Cait: I have to protect Vi, I can't let anyone touch her, she's hurt and I can't risk anyone else getting close. Also Caitlyn: Yeah, sure, I'll take these drugs without even knowing what they are.

So, apparently, you're not supposed to lie down if you have broken ribs??? I didn't know this. That's the main reason I made Caitlyn's injury less severe; she needs to be able to cuddle.

Petra, knowing how stubborn Caitlyn is and seeing the results of Vi's will to survive: "...I honestly can't imagine a world in which she doesn't recover."

I wanted them to cuddle! I'm so mad at myself! I damaged Caitlyn's ribs and inadvertantly sabotaged myself! Fuck! >:(

Gonna fucking make them hold hands instead. Damn it. I wanted them to cuddle. :(

Kissing your partner's hands, my beloved. (Especially when those hands have been forced to do terrible things.)

Teaser for next (next) week:

Her hair is messy, falling out of her loose, lopsided ponytail. Her clothes are rumpled. There are lines on the side of her face where the folds of the blanket have left their impressions in her skin. It's so beautiful and imperfect and Caitlyn.

Vi's heart cracks open inside her chest, something molten bleeding out of it. There is so much she wants to say, but all of it gets caught in the dry desert of her throat.

You came back. You found me. I missed you. I love you.