#this is like...my oldest ship at this point

[maul-of-shame]

Oh my god you’re out here acting like you’re some badass queen for having a horrible ship but you just sound like a middle aged bored mom who read a Colleen Hoover book and now makes it their entire personality because they’re bored. Also what’s with the big red letters? You don’t sound like a mean girl who’s making a point, you sound like a loser who’s in desperate need of a dose of reality.

Galadriel is like an older sister (or even a mother figure) to Elrond, which is why their relationship is so comforting. You trying to ruin that does make me upset cause I’m tired of people having no sense of media literacy. Not everything has to be shipped and definitely not something as dumb as this.

Also, fuck that stupid Sauron/Galadriel ship. It’s straight up people romanizing abuse and it’s disgusting. Canon!Galadriel would have never fallen for Hallbrand’s shit or Sauron’s charms and the way the Rings Of Power writers took a strong, mature female character and made her in to an immature schoolgirl (when she’s literally one of the oldest elves, older than Gil-Galad) is fucking stupid and actually misogynistic. I’m so tired of people taking strong female characters and watering them down to make them into a love interest for the villain or make her a cringy villain too. It’s dumb

So yeah, fuck Rings Of Power for destroying canon and destroying Galadriel’s character, fuck those Sauron/Galadriel shippers for being weird, and fuck you for taking a comforting, platonic relationship ship between two characters who have both been through a lot of shit and romanticizing it.

Also, fuck you for erasing Celebrian. I know you probably can’t comphrehend a female character being great without a sword in her hand so take that sword and shove it up your ass.

A word of advice, don’t touch the Lord Of The Rings when you clearly do not understand any of the characters, their relationships, or the meaning behind them. Just write your own book at this point with your own characters and leave the beautifully written stories of Tolkien alone.

Oh nooooooooo, did I offend you and your little Nazgûl toys? Did my horrifying act of (gasp) shipping two FICTIONAL characters make you sprint to the safety of the anonymous ask button, cloak fluttering dramatically behind you, so you could deliver this righteous tirade?🥺🥺🥺

Oh, how will I ever recover from being called a middle-aged Colleen Hoover mom by someone who’s clearly more pressed than the One Ring under Sauron’s hand? Truly, I’m shattered.🙄

Better a badass queen than some self-appointed Warden of the Fandom Wastes, skulking around like Gollum clutching your “precious” canon interpretations. Honestly, the only crown you’d ever wear is made of your own insecurities and bad takes, and even that sits crooked because it’s weighed down by all the irrelevant, unsolicited opinions you can’t stop flinging around. At least I’m out here enjoying myself—what’s your excuse?

You’ve got thoughts on the big red letters, do you? How utterly precious. Let me roll out the crimson carpet for you, since it seems they’ve left such a deep impression on your clearly delicate sensibilities. Here, let me give you more big red letters, because I wouldn’t want you to feel deprived of the melodramatic theater you seem so desperate for:

BIG. RED. LETTERS. JUST. FOR. YOU.!!!!

How’s that? Feeling better? Maybe this will soothe whatever irrational rage my formatting has triggered in that oh-so-fragile ego of yours. You’re acting like I personally painted the Eye of Sauron in your living room. Imagine being so pressed over font choices on the internet as well. It’s giving “I’m mad at PowerPoint for existing” energy, and frankly, it’s embarrassing.

You're embarassing yourself honey.

I wrote a reply, but I doubt you have the intelligence to understand it—or to hear it over the sound of your teeth grinding. Don’t worry, though! I hear Nazgûls get special dental benefits under Sauron’s health plan! Might want to book that appointment before the Mouth of Sauron starts mumbling your excuses for you!🦷🦷🦷

[TW: long salty rant]

First of all, if you’re so confident in your opinions, why are you skulking in my inbox as ANON, like Gollum trying to steal his precious back?

If you’re going to talk big about media literacy and "ruined characters," at least have the courage to do it without hiding behind the shadowy safety net of anonymity. You don’t sound like a defender of Tolkien’s legacy.

You sound like someone who got rejected by the Council of Elrond and has been bitter about it ever since.

Second, your entire rant reeks of irony. You complain about media literacy while writing paragraphs of projection, completely ignoring that this is fan content.

FAN. CONTENT.

You know, the space where people explore different interpretations and tell stories that resonate with them? Oh, but no! We must all bow to your singular, unyielding interpretation of Tolkien’s work, or else risk being smote upon the mountains of your judgment! Get over yourself. Seriously.

The best part? You’re mad about me "ruining" Galadriel and Elrond’s "comforting" dynamic by exploring a different take, but in the same breath, you’re tearing down Rings of Power Galadriel for being "immature" and "cringy." Sweetheart, pick a lane. You’re out here defending canon while also trashing it—what is this, the mental gymnastics World Championships? I have to say, your flexibility is impressive, careful of pulled muscles.

And so I have a sword up my what now?

Oh, my dear anonymous bard of bitterness, that’s quite the reach for someone who’s clearly got a scroll of the Silmarillion shoved so far up their ass that they probably recite Quenya conjugations in their sleep.

What’s next? Are you going to accuse me of erasing Melian because I didn’t write her into my Elrond and Galadriel fic either? Or maybe I’ll get yelled at for not including Bill the Pony in a Kingsman AU (he will be besties, don't worry)?

Let me make this very clear for you, Elvish Choir Master of Overreach, Herald of the Screeching Essay, Defender of the Lore That Nobody Asked You to Protect, Wielder of the All-Caps Argument, and Keeper of the Scroll That’s Shoved So Far Up Your Ass You Probably Quote “Ainulindalë” When Ordering Your Morning Coffee (truly, your titles grow longer than Treebeard’s introductions, yet none of them seem to include “Maker of a Valid Point.”!")-

Celebrian is not missing because I "don’t comprehend strong female characters without swords." She’s missing because, brace yourself, not every single piece of fanfiction has to feature every single character from Tolkien’s works.

Shocking, I know. Truly, I can hear the Valar themselves weeping at this revelation.

But here’s the thing: I’m not writing a Celebrian-centric fic. And you know what? That’s okay. You can unclench now.

Let’s really talk about your oh-so-bold suggestion to shove a sword somewhere for a sec. That’s your masterstroke? That’s the hill you’re dying on?

If we’re being honest, your insult is so dull it wouldn’t cut through soft butter on a sunny day, let alone make me flinch. Sting is officially handing in its resignation because it’s mortified to even share a sentence with you. You’re out here acting like you’ve got the sharpest blade in the Shire, but all I see is someone frantically flailing with a broken spoon.

And then there’s this laughable attempt at moral superiority. You’re swinging around words like you’re a defender of Middle-earth itself, valiantly protecting Tolkien’s legacy, when in reality, your argument is about as sturdy as a sandcastle at Helm’s Deep. You’re not a warrior—you’re the Mouth of Sauron after a bad day, spewing nonsense and hoping someone will think it’s profound. Newsflash: it’s not.

Let’s be clear: your little temper tantrum reeks of someone who just discovered the caps lock button, a bunch of adult words and decided to let it do all the heavy lifting.

I’ve seen hobbits throw better shade after three pints of ale.

You’re no mighty protector of canon—you’re just another basement-dwelling troll who thinks yelling loud enough will make people take you seriously.

And your sword suggestion? I’d recommend you point that creative energy inward, maybe use it to figure out how to construct an actual argument instead of regurgitating clichés you probably heard from your "leader" of choice in your private toxic fandom echo chamber. Don’t worry, though—I doubt you’ll hear any of this over the sound of your teeth grinding or the faint whistle of your Nazgûl screech echoing through your mom’s basement.

Maybe take a break, Denethor—chew on a tomato or two, cry into your cloak, and try again when you’ve leveled up from hobbit insult level: preschool.

Honestly, you’re not even mad about Celebrian being “erased.” You’re mad because I dared to write something that doesn’t align with your precious headcanons. And instead of just scrolling past, you decided to play Tolkienquisitor in my inbox, as if you’ve been personally tasked by Eru Ilúvatar to uphold canon.

I'm sorry (no) to break it to you but nobody crowned you King (or Queen) of Arda.

Not every single piece of fanfiction needs to involve every canon character just to meet your Tolkien purity test. If that’s a requirement, maybe you should write the fic. Oh wait....- you’re too busy spamming inboxes with this unhinged bullshit. My bad.

Here’s the thing, Bearer of Misplaced Rage: nobody asked for your unsolicited essay about the sanctity of Celebrian. But please, do continue climbing the Tower of Tolkien Purism like you’re on some holy quest. Maybe at the top, you’ll find the self-awareness you so desperately lack—or perhaps just a mirror to reflect your ridiculousness back at you.

You wanna talk about erasing characters? Fine.

Let’s talk about how you erased common decency, social awareness, and basic literacy by barging into my inbox with this drivel. The lorebros tirades and scroll-up-the-ass syndrome are bad enough, but now you’re out here flinging insults like “shove a sword up your ass” as if you just invented edgy. Sweetheart, that’s not edgy—that’s the kind of thing a D-list internet troll would type before running out of Wi-Fi.

So, let me leave you with this, oh Guardian of the Fanfic Gates: the next time you feel compelled to compose another Screed of the Self-Righteous, maybe take a moment to ask yourself, “Does this make me sound like a reasonable human being, or just a Balrog throwing a temper tantrum in a lava pit?” Because right now, I’d wager Smaug hoarding gold has more chill than you do.

And let’s not even start with your hilariously misplaced outrage about me shipping Elrond and Galadriel while we both apparently agree that Saurondriel is not our cup of tea. You’re yelling into the void about something I never even said or supported. Congratulations! You’ve officially argued against a strawman!

Here’s your Orcish participation trophy!

Thank you, Supreme Chancellor of Canon Policing, Overseer of the One True Interpretation, and Gatekeeper Extraordinaire of Tolkien’s Sacred Scrolls. I am truly humbled to be graced with your unsolicited advice, delivered with the self-importance of someone who thinks they’re the Mouth of Sauron but comes off more like Gollum arguing with his own reflection. Truly, I don’t know what I’d do without such pearls of wisdom.

But let me give you a word of advice, oh Lore Purist in Chief, President of the Fanfiction Police Union, and Guardian of the Shire’s Moral High Ground: I will touch Tolkien’s world, twist it, flip it like a pancake, and build something entirely new on top of it because guess what?

I’ve already done it.

And I’ll do it again.

And the best part? I don’t give a single, solitary fuck about your opinions, your outrage, or your sad little attempts to gatekeep Middle-earth like it’s your family heirloom.

You think your tired, sanctimonious “write your own book” line is a gotcha? Sweetheart, I already have. Several, in fact. And guess what? I’ll write more—more stories, more ships, more reinterpretations—and there’s nothing you can do but sit there in your self-proclaimed Chair of Canonical Superiority, furiously typing out essays that no one but you cares about. Go on, keep clutching your pearls and scribbling your fanfic hate manifestos, but let me promise you something: I’m not stopping. Ever.

It’s honestly adorable that you think your little decree will somehow shame me into putting my pen down. What next? You gonna summon the Valar to smite me for daring to reinterpret a fictional world?

Send an eagle my way, please—I’ll need it to carry all the fucks I don’t give about your opinion.

And let me be clear, Warden of Tolkien’s Spirit: your outrage is just fuel for my creative fire. Every time you whine, I just want to write more. So congrats, you’re officially my muse now, Pontiff of Perpetual Fan Rage!

You know what’s truly laughable? Your holier-than-thou act of pretending you’re the sole arbiter of what Tolkien “meant.” Tolkien’s works are complex, layered, and ripe for reinterpretation—that’s the beauty of storytelling. But no, you’ve decided you’re The Chosen One who understands it all, while the rest of us mere mortals stumble around in the dark.

Honey, if you’re the shining beacon of understanding, I’d rather take my chances in Moria without a light.

So, High Inquisitor of Gatekeeping™, continue shouting into the void, continue crying about my creative choices, and continue being mad about fanfiction. Meanwhile, I’ll be over here doing exactly what you hate: writing more, creating more, and caring less about your irrelevant opinions.

Go back to your dark little corner of Middle-earth, chewing on your bones—or was it cherry tomatoes this time?—and maybe weep dramatically about how "nobody understands your self-proclaimed brilliance". Honestly, your energy is giving less "Steward of Gondor" and more "Steward of Mom’s Basement."

Do you light a big, dramatic bonfire every time someone disagrees with you, or do you just sulk under the glow of your monitor, waiting for someone to tag your ship so you can descend like a Nazgûl in a hissy fit?

You’re out here acting like you’re defending Tolkien’s honor, but let’s be real—you’re just pressed that not everyone worships at the altar of your very specific, incredibly narrow, terminally boring interpretation of his works. It’s okay, really. We get it. You’ve been sitting there so long with that “scroll of canon” shoved up your ass that you’ve convinced yourself you’re a scholar.

Spoiler alert: you’re not. You’re just the guy crying into a bowl of instant noodles, mad that someone dared to take creative liberties with a fictional story.

To my knowledge, the Tolkien Estate is NOT sending you a paycheck to defend their lore. You’re not a martyr. You’re not a scholar. You’re not even the fun kind of fan who shares cool lore facts. You’re just the guy screaming, “That’s not canon!” into the void while the rest of us are out here enjoying our fandom like adults.

Here’s a thought: maybe instead of crying about other people’s ships, you could take that energy and, I don’t know, apply it to something useful. Learn Elvish. Build a model of Barad-dûr out of your tears. Or maybe, just maybe, stop weeping over cherry tomatoes and touch some grass. I hear the Shire has a lot of it.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have characters to write, ships to build, and a very long scroll of I don’t care to finish signing. Good day, Esteemed Minister of Misguided Rage.

Morning people! It's just above 8am but a Lorebro called (screamed)! XD

[arrimorr]

WHATS YOUR FAVORITE SHIP? GO

If I have to choose one I will go with the Beast and Enoch from Over the garden wall 😭 they have zero interactions (outside of that one scene of the Beast's lantern ending up in Pottsfield in the epilogue) but I will go down with this one. Oh the eldritch romance stuck in between autumn and winter...

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Multiverse Police (pt. 2)

"You said you're going to ask questions, then can we ask questions?" Superman really tries to be polite here because, first, he was raised by Kents and, second, Jazz and the whole interdimensional police thing looks non-hostile. At least now.

The redhead nods, "Sure, ask away, I'll answer everything I can." Then, she notices Batman reaching to touch the green shield and makes a soft, warning noise, "Ah, sorry, please don't touch it. I can show how it works later, but it's not meant to keep you out. It's to keep everything else in."

Batman reluctantly puts his head down and turns to her.

"Elaborate."

The sci-fi ship in the air makes a loud hissing sound, like compressed air being released, and the bottom part of it slides open. Jazz nods in the direction of the now open ship.

"You know what they say, it's better to see it once than to hear it ten times."

There are three humanoid figures standing in there. All of them are mostly monochrome, black and white clothes, starkling white hair. They look like one adult and two children, but it's one of the kids who raises his hands to his mouth and yells so loud everyone in three miles radius is able to hear him:

"Step away from the shield, please, shit's about to get real!"

None of the heroes move, but Jazz does take a few steps away. Wonder Woman, after a moment of hesitation, follows her example.

A mechanical voice comes from the ship itself, "Countdown to the breach. Five... Four..."

On 'three,' all three of the monochrome figures step out from the ship. But, before any of the heroes have time to worry, they all float in the air, undeterred by gravity, and the ship door closes behind them.

The countdown reaches 'one'. And in the next moment, it looks like the hell breaks loose.

Countless giant vines shoot out from the portal up, reaching for the ship. True to what the red hoverboarder said, they are very much toothy, every vine splitting in two and attempting to bite the ship like some twisted idea of scissors.

None of them reach it.

The oldest of three kids claps his hands, and a wall of raging fire descends on the vines, throwing them off. In the next moment, the trio falls apart, flying through the lovecraftian mess of carnivorous plants with practiced ease, the younger ones using what looks like icicles and little storms.

"Who are they?" Batman asks Jazz, following the youngest one's - the only girl among the three - movements as she creates a strong gust of wind with a wave of her hand. None of the vines or attacks get past the shield, though.

"My siblings," the girl answers, pointing her hand at the oldest one, "That's Dan. He's the most violent. One time, he destroyed our original world, but that timeline doesn't exist anymore." She then points to the girl, "That's Dani, the youngest. She rarely joins the crew lately. And she is actually a clone, but at this point, most of us have been cloned once or twice, so it's not a big deal anymore." She then points her finger to the last one, a boy that flies past them quicker than a lightning, freezing everything he touches, "And this is Danny. He is the most powerful one. Technically, he could have just ended the fight with one Wail, but kids like to have fun. Also, they don't get to show off their elemental powers a lot, so they are mostly being dramatic for you."

She says all this so easily, just like a matter of fact, and it is at this moment that the members of JL realize the sheer power of whoever these people are. When she casually told them she bested Superman, it could have been written as a coincidence, a joke. But this?

Dan growls as one of the vines scratches his shoulder. He bleeds green, but it's only for a second before both the wound and the suit knit themselves back together. This is not just a simple accelerated healing, it almost looks like a miracle.

"Oi, brats, I'm done with show off, get out of the way!" He yells at the other two, and Danny and Dani quickly follow the order, flying closer to him and behind his back.

"Cover your ears," Jazz tells the heroes around her, and puts her helmet back on, as Dan takes a deep breath and screams.

It hurts even those who follow Jazz's advice. Batman feels like his eardrums are about to be shattered for the lack of better word. But the vines like the sonic attack even less - most of them subdue and pull back inside the portal, and the rest is dissipating like they are being burned from the inside out.

And then, just like it began, the scream - the wail - stops. The silence feels deafening after the end of it, but slowly, the sounds return, and the JL watches Danny flying down to the center of the portal. He puts his hands on the surface of it, and for a long moment, nothing happens.

And then the Pit starts closing up.

Or, no, it is Danny who absorbs it, the green flowing up through his hands, his veins that start glowing the same green. His eyes become the same toxic color, with no whites and no irises, just glowing green all over, and his hair shimmers like stars.

A few minutes later, the portal is gone, like it never even existed, and Danny plants his feet on the ground and stretches, like one would do after a good rest.

"Oof, that was nice!" He turns to the other two, who are still up in the air, "Do you want some?"

Dan flips him off before going back to the ship, but Dani floats down to him and extends her hands out.

"Sure. I like getting it from you better than from the portal itself anyway. Gives it a sparkling taste, like Sprite," she chuckles. Danny takes her hands in his, and the green glow slowly makes its way through their joined palms, now flowing through the girl’s body.

"What are they?" Flash whispers, horrified, but Jazz hears it nonetheless and turns her head to him, taking her helmet off once again.

"That is not a very appropriate question," she chastises and smiles at their faces, "But it's okay, I get it. They are ghosts. Or ectoplasmic entities, or halfas, or highly liminal beings. Or, if you want a very simplified version, they are dead kids who are enjoying their afterlife a little too much."

"Dead?" Batman zeros on the word, snapping his eyes at the girl. She smiles, and for the first time, it doesn't look human. Her teeth are too sharp, her grin too wide, and her eyes are suddenly not just teal, but neon bright and glowing, with vertical irises.

"Most of us are dead in one way or another. And I do not mean it in a metaphorical sense."

-------------------

What I'm thinking is they have a whole system going on. Amity Park generally resides in the Realms, but from time to time, they decide they want to go on a vacation, as a whole town, and they pop into existence on one of the Earths. They don't really care for the universe or dimension they end up in, as long as it is more or less peaceful (as in, no active wars going on right where they pop up), has sunlight and nice weather.

The GIW is taking care of legal things - imagine US government reaction when a whole ass town just boom, starts existing in a place where nothing existed before? So GIW does all the paperwork and discussions. Also, they are doing their basic research on the dimension they end up in, for science purposes.

I'm thinking Vlad is still a mayor of Amity. And sometimes, when a particular dimension is rather annoying, he straight up possesses the authorities because he hates official talks and couldn't care less for morals if he tried for a week. The GIW scolds him, but don't really say no. It's not a good solution to the problem, but hey, it works.

Meanwhile, Fentons are doing ectoplasmic research. They scan the dimension for troubles, basically, looking for natural portals and ghosts causing ruckus. Jazz is almost always the one who does the talking to the heroes native to the dimension - she is the one who has the most patience and social skills. Jack is in charge of transportation and Maddie is the head of biological, ecto-biological and other species research. Tucker is the tech specialist, of course - he is the sole reason why Amity has wi-fi wherever they go. Val and her father are, kind of, protectors? Security? But for the whole town, yeah. They do have GIW agents as subordinates.

Dani is not always living in Amity, she travels the Realms most of the time, but she joins when something interesting happens. Dan is, like, on an eternal probation period, GIW and Fentons keep an eye on him, but he is one of the heavy hitters for when shit goes down.

Danny is living his best life, he is mainly the protector spirit of Amity, but he also gets to protect all the dimensions from ghosts! He helps anyone and everyone - one day he is working with Val on defenses for their main ship they use to travel inside dimensions, and the next day he is joining Maddie in her studies of new species found.

Oh, I forgot Sam. She is probably the one responsible for the magic stuff - mostly everyone else focuses on scientific aspects, but she is the one to research on occult things.

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[penkura]

OP Men as Dads Part 2

Note: I chose to do another five OP men for this one!! My brain won't shut off about these men being dads, I'm losing it omg. I hope these are good, I kind of struggled a little but just wrote whatever came to mind. Maybe I can do a part three at some point with more of them! I have a small idea for Mihawk and Franky, but that's it so far. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! Sticking baby Ace for the image because I got nothing else lol.

Part One Here!

Kid is a boy dad, I’m sorry he just is. I can’t see him with a daughter really, unless she’s the youngest and was a surprise. But anyway! He’d have three boys that were all three years apart, and all are exactly like him. You really do love your sons and husband, but how you wish at least one of your boys was calm. The four of them are always roughhousing to the point you’ve had to set rules to keep from Kid accidentally hurting them, or your children from breaking things when he isn’t involved. When you have a set of twins a few years after your third son, another two boys, you’re done and just accepting your fate as a boy mom. You and Kid love all your boys though, neither of you would change anything, especially when your youngest ends up being a momma’s boy who’s finally calm and would rather spend his time with you than anyone else. Kid isn’t jealous, he swears.

~~

Usopp I can see with two girls! A few years between them, and they’re both the light of his life aside from you of course! Every story he tells them before bed makes them both so excited to grow up and become Pirates themselves, brave women of the sea! The oldest will want to help Usopp and Franky with inventions and fixing up the ship, while the youngest wants to be a sniper like her dad. You have no complaints about either one of those, more than grateful they both want to take after Usopp and following in his footsteps. Your girls absolutely love their dad, you get a little jealous sometimes, but getting to watch the three of them bond is your favorite thing in the world. It might make him a little emotional, especially after not having Yasopp around as he grew up.

~~

Shanks, I’m sure a lot are wondering about, would be such a great dad, we’ve seen him with Luffy and Uta, there’s no way he’d let down his biological kids imo. I see him with a son first, one with his hair that’s even more wild, and then twin girls! They’d all be about four years apart in age, but they’d run him ragged day in and day out. He'd teach your son how to wield a sword and help him develop his Haki, while your daughters will learn more hand to hand combat, though your youngest will join the sword lessons when she’s ready. When they’re little, he lets your girls put pins and braids in his hair, while telling all three of them stories about his time on the sea. The rest of the crew adores your children, Shanks knew they’d all be great uncles to your little ones.

~~

SHACHI WOULD SUCH A GOOD DAD OMG. You think I’m pushing Penguin propaganda, I’m here for Shachi now too. He’ll have two boys within two years of each other, yes the second is a surprise but so beyond welcomed, and then several years later a little girl that has all three of them wrapped around her finger! Your daughter would have his red hair, she’d just be the prettiest little thing, with chubby cheeks and her hair pulled back into two little ponytails. Your sons would have a mix between your hair and Shachi’s, both taking more after their dad in personality than anything. Of course, Shachi will teach all three of them to defend themselves, but especially your daughter since she’s the baby and he just wants her to be safe, even with her big brothers as her guardians.

~~

Rosinante, Corazon, however we wish to call him, he would be the best dad out of this group, I’m sure of it. Apart from taking in Law, he’d have two of his own children, a girl first and then a boy a couple years later. Law would act as a big brother to the two, it’d be the cutest thing ever. While your daughter would be outgoing and ready to take on the world, your son would much shier and would rather hide himself behind you or Corazon, normally his dad though. Corazon would NOT let Doflamingo around them; he’d probably keep the three of you a secret, maybe even his adoption of Law too, just to keep you all safe. He’s lost family before, he doesn’t want it to happen again, even if that means picking up and moving you all where his brother can’t find you. Apart from that, Corazon would make sure all of you had everything you needed, and your son would hold onto him through everything.  Your daughter would attach more to Law, but that’s perfectly fine, he’s accepted her as his new little sister and wants to protect her, he wants to protect your son too where he can. Your daughter would also want to keep her baby brother safe, not one of you would let a thing happen to a hair on his head. Corazon finally has a family again, a family of his own, he’s not letting anything happen to any of you anytime soon.

[transmasccofee]

ok I promise I promise this isn’t frl shipping discourse but as an incredibly short person who despite being an adult looks maybe 15 at the oldest, I’m a little confused by people unironically saying you can’t ship Senshi and Chilchuck bc Senshi at one point thought Chilchuck was a kid. Like. Is that a rule we have now. We can’t be in relationships with people who at one point thought we were younger than we are. Because if that’s the case than I am fucking doomed, literally everyone in my life thought I was a child before I mentioned my age. Am I just morally prohibited from pussy now.

[hhnguyen]

life of a traitor

I’m really sorry if this one seemed a bit messy, because I was trying to convey the feelings from multiple POV’s at the same time instead of just one. ps. i will drown in the Lo’ak x Tsireya ship. My OTP for life. 

♢ Pairing: Dad!Jake Sully x Oldest daughter!Reader, Lo’ak x Tsireya, Dad!Jake Sully x Lo’ak

♢ Word count: 4k 

♢ Genre: angst, family comfort - Warnings: cursing, Jake being a bad dad for once but we still love him 

⌲ Description: “You have shamed this family.” Words hurt and they sting. Yet you make sure your dad gets to feel that very pain in the wake of Lo’ak’s return. 

M A S T E R L I S T

“The Sully boy has been found!”

“The oldest is with him! They’re both back!”

You were holding your breath, you realized, as the village got closer. The lit-up lanterns that seemed like mere specks of stars in the night from a distance not long ago now seemingly looming over you with intimidation for what was to come. Both of you were perched on the backs of the Metkayina warrior's mounts that had spotted the two swimming back into the reefs after sending the tulkun off. 

And with Atanzaw flying above your heads, shining in the dark with his bioluminescent marks, it was an easy spotting as an uproar had started. 

Your brother reached the dock first, thanking the one who helped as you followed up shortly after doing the same. 

As if as one, both yours and Lo’ak’s gaze locked onto Ao’nung standing at the very front beside his parents. He was silent, though you didn’t know if that was due to the aftermath of his scolding or guilt for nearly killing your brother.

For his sake, it better had been the latter. 

You merely stood back as Lo’ak was ready to pounce on the boy himself until your dad quickly intervened with raised hands of peace, and you could not stop the disappointed roll of your eyes. 

“Hey…” Jake was trying to make eye contact with him, but sensing how his youngest son was too busy death glaring at the Olo’eyktan’s heir it was a futile try. “Let’s have a look at you.”

“He’s fine, he’s fine. Just a few scratches,” your dad declared, obviously nervous and trying to appear calm. 

“Define fine,” you muttered, not bothering to be too discreet and catching both the eyes of Tonowari and Jake. 

Your mother was next, as she threw herself down on the lower ledge and grabbed Lo’ak by his shoulders, nails probably digging in uncomfortably for a short moment. There was clear distress for her child on her face, but also the aggravation of him getting into trouble again. A very familiar combination when it came to your baby brother, admittedly. 

You still made sure to be closer to him as you stepped up, shoulders just barely brushing your dad’s arm in passing and hovering a mere few inches behind. A silent shield to be used if needed. 

“I pray for the strength that I will not rip the eyeballs out of my youngest son!” She growled with a frustrated grab at his face - Lo’ak did nothing but lean away, face stone cold in all the chaos. 

His indifference was worrying you as you reached out to subtly hook your little pinky around his own. An action that only the two of you and Kiri could do with your extra fingers. His body didn’t reveal anything besides the slight twitch at the touch, but he didn’t pull away, and you took it as a good sign. 

For now. 

“No. My son knows better than to take him outside of the reef,” Tonowari pushed Ao’nung down to his knees by the back of his neck, a sight that gave you immense satisfaction as your lips curled up into a small smirk. “The blame is his.”

Your father was trying his best to de-escalate the situation, you knew that. And although you had a lot to say, things were going smoothly at this point, so they were held back. 

“Okay, let’s go,” Jake accepted it, urging Lo’ak to get a move on and you started to follow until the next words made you freeze in shock. 

“No. This is not Ao’nung’s fault. This was my idea.”

What the fuck was he doing?

Stupid, stupid boy!

Your heart was starting to pump, the disbelief at that flat-out lie from Lo’ak not making it any better. And you made sure to voice it. 

“Lo’ak!” Your hiss was hardly low in volume, or gentle in its approach. It was a harsh, aggressive sound that made several people look as you grabbed your youngest brother’s arm and pulled him to you. “What do you think you’re doing?!” 

You were pretty sure your nails were digging into his skin much more painfully than your mom’s did. 

But as the idiot that he was, he wrenched away from you and continued on as if you hadn’t spoken. “Ao’nung tried to talk me out of it. Really.”

Lie, lie, lies!

The word thundered in your head as you pinched your eyes shut with a rigid sigh. Your parents had so clearly lost their patience as your dad went up first, your mom grabbing Lo’ak either in anger or confusion. “Lo’ak!”

You weren’t sure of anything, to be honest. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally finished. 

“Come on,” Jake’s voice was sternly laced with exhaustion as you both followed him.  “I got this one.”

How many times hadn’t you heard that sentence? 

There was a tense moment of silence as your family walked away, but Tuk was absent you noticed. Which was a good thing in itself, supposedly. She didn’t need to see this ugly side of your family so young - there were certain moments for learning, whereas others would just create minimal trauma. Just like now. 

“Dad, you told me to make friends with these kids, that was what I was trying to do-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” 

You cautiously straightened up at the apparent held-back anger and glanced at your mom, hoping she might help to diffuse the situation. But her glare was still firmly settled on Lo’ak, as you licked your lips anxiously. 

This situation was not reached its peak yet, the comprehension of the current mood washing over you. 

“Dad…”

“You brought shame to this family.”

It felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs and stones beings violently shoved in their stead, eyes widening at the horrible words your dad…no, Jake Sully just blatantly said to your brother. 

Because this was not the dad that you knew. 

How could he? 

Saying such words when Lo’ak was already struggling with himself. 

Couldn’t they see that? 

It was so clear, your confusion nearly befuddled you enough, but not quite.

Because your anger was there. Simmering, boiling - ready to erupt at any moment - because this wasn’t fair.

Your baby brother was being so strong. 

Oh, how his expression squeezed your heart almost painfully. The way his shoulders just only drooped before straightening back up and fists clenching as his cold mask slipped back over the hurt that had been there only for a single second. 

“Can I go now?”

Don’t go. Please, don’t go. 

“Any more trouble I’ll tie a knot in your tail, you read me?”

Stop.

“Yes sir.”

Just fucking stop.  

With a flick of his eyes, your dad dismissed Lo’ak like he was one of his soldiers, and as you tried to reach out for him, your baby brother ignored you with a visible lean away. 

An action that hurt you more than you realized until now. 

“Where were you?” Your mom spoke for the first time, turning to Neteyam. 

Someone that had nothing to do with this whole fiasco. 

“Yeah, what happened to keep an eye on your brother?” 

You spoke before he could. “Where were you?”

Both of your parents turned to look, identical frowns on their faces as they stared you down at your tone. But you would not budge at their intimidation. 

“Excuse me?”

“How could you?” 

“Y/N this is not the time for one of your tirades again.”

The disbelieving laugh that you let out was so out of character that even Kiri’s eyes widened warily. 

Your sister was someone who often silently observed those around you. And she knew that at this point there was no going back. You were clearly losing it. 

“Y/N…” Your mom noticed the same, sensing the seams of your sensibility started to fray at the edges as you and Jake were locked in a stare-down. 

You grinned widely, all teeth on show as your arms spread to the side. “You know what? Thank you for suggesting that dad! I would love to actually!”

Tirades were your favorite part time after all. 

His eyes narrowed dangerously, a finger hovering in the air as Jake hissed in a breath before muttering out harshly - his eyes flickering to the curious audience gathering at your volume. “Watch yourself, young lady.” 

“Why?” Your reply was all but spat out. “Are you embarrassed? Ashamed perhaps?”

“Y/N, you do not speak to your father like that!” Your mom’s voice snapped up, gaze hard with a hint of surprise which you assumed was due to your attitude. 

Admittedly a side that you had never shown before. Or at least managed to hold back in tense moments. 

“Why the hell not?!” your words were met by the gasps of Kiri and Neteyam at the audacity, but they were easily ignored as you whirled to look at your father. 

He had his lips peeled back in a mid-snarl, his animalistic side coming out to warn you of the hierarchy in this family.

“You always speak to us like that! Whenever your emotions are too much to handle and you lash out at us. You say it’s our fault all disguised under your excuse of being a worried parent!”

“Lo’ak is fourteen, dad!” Making sure you had his attention you stepped closer. “Four-teen. He’s fourteen and already thinks he’s a fucking failure - and do you wanna know why that is?” there was no pause in your words as you threw them at his face. “Because of you.”

“You do not get to talk to me this way, Y/N,” Jake was clenching his jaw to the point he was sure his teeth would shatter. “I am your father-”

“-what father tells their child they’re ashamed of them?” You offered him a bitter smile. “The one I know sure as hell doesn’t.”

“Your brother made his choice. These are the consequences that follow-” your dad was having a hard time holding back with the way his voice raised mid-sentence before forcefully stopping himself and releasing a breath. “-that follow along with his actions. I am trying to teach him a lesson.”

“Did you ask him?”

“What?”

“Did. You. Ask. Him?”

Jake sighed in frustration, his hands coming up to grasp at empty air. “What are you talking about?” 

“Did you even bother to ask your son whose fault this really was?” you weren’t interested in hearing his answer. “Do you even know your son? Because I do, and do you wanna know why again? Because I damn well pay attention!”

The laugh coming out of your dad made chills appear on your skin, but you were already far too deep in to turn back. Things were already fucked up, then why not cross the line a little more. 

“Okay then, you little smartass. Are you telling me I don’t care about my own kid?”

He thought he had you there.

 “Caring and knowing are two very different things.” This time you were the one who had him. Shutting down his own retort. 

“You say you love us. You say you care for us. But also that we worry you, and that we disappoint you. Fine - that’s fine dad. But you don’t get to say that we have shamed you.”

For once during this entire duration, you hesitated. 

Your next words were waiting on the tip of your tongue, heavy and loaded - something you didn’t want to say, but a part of you needed to let them out. To let your dad, or even Jake Sully, the former marine soldier hear them to his face from someone close to him.

To feel the same stabbing pain that Lo’ak most certainly did earlier. 

Your aggressive protectiveness came victorious. 

So you let them loose. 

“You don’t get to say that; because we’re not the ones who betrayed an entire race to be where we are.”

Jake stumbled back in shock as if those very words had shot him right in the chest and he couldn’t stop them. Stop the truth that they were covered in. 

It was like a pin dropped in the heavy silence that followed between the loose circle your family stood in. Your mother for the first time in her life since giving birth to you hissed in protectiveness over her mate - at her own daughter - your brother sprung to your side and twisted you away with a snarl of your name, in warning, not scolding. Whereas Kiri remained still, eerie gaze never leaving you.

However, you weren’t done. 

“Hurts doesn’t it?” your voice croaked as Jake’s eyes slowly raised to meet yours. “Words.”

You left without saying anything else.

+

Warm. Gentle. Comforting and so loving.

Tsireya’s hold on his hands was always a welcoming feeling. 

Her touch seemed to ground him more than he sometimes realized. A feeling that was unfamiliar to him mostly, and one that always reminded him of you. 

But right now, with the two of them sitting on a boulder on the edge of a patchy space of grass and gazing out into the star covered night together, it was a touch that calmed the stabbing hurt from earlier and made the night all more bearable. 

Lo’ak had no idea how many hours that passed since the chaos that had ensued after returning with you. His hearing basically stopped working after his dad’s true feelings had slapped him in the face with their words - that stung more than an actual slap would have. 

He would have rather taken that slap. 

“Are you okay?” Tsireya’s voice was soft and light, so sweet in its tone that he couldn’t even stop the small smile on his face after the tumultuous day. 

“I will be,” he admitted honestly. He would always be somewhat okay after a few days, that was the truth. 

The real question was if he would ever heal from it. That one he wasn’t so sure about. 

Lo’ak might not have been mistreated or even abused by his family. A minimum that was expected for a happy life. Because in a certain perspective, he was fortunate in the life that he did have. 

Two caring, protective parents. 

Four loving siblings. 

A grandmother for Tsahik. 

And a home. Kind off. 

Then why didn’t he feel fortunate?

“You can always rely on me, you know that right?” 

Eywa. How beautiful her large eyes looked staring up at him from her place, where her head was previously leaned on his shoulder. 

They were sparkling, he swore. The aquamarine color of them stood out even more in the darkness surrounding them. The bioluminescent lights of nature surrounding them made her all the more ethereal in his gaze.

So large and so loving and caring in the way they always looked at him. 

And not for the first time, Lo’ak found his own gaze wavering - flickering down lower on her face and to her lips, which were adorably pulled down in a slightly concerned pout for him. 

They might be young, just fourteen-year-old kids still growing. But he wasn’t stupid or ignorant at his age. He was well versed in romantic feelings and commitment to your partners, and how to cherish each other if the right one ever did appear. 

And his dad made good on his promise to teach them all about teenage hormones and urges, and how to control them in a respectful manner. To know when it was too early to start exploring what he wanted or not. 

Lo’ak wanted to kiss her. He knew that. It wasn’t a secret. 

But it was too early. And in the aftermath of his falling out with his parents, it seemed too…raw. 

He didn’t want to use someone he was growing to care more for each day as a way of making himself feel better. 

And Tsireya deserved better, being the kindhearted person she was. And he wasn’t quite there to give it to her yet. 

But one day, he hoped he would be. 

“Thank you,” was all he managed to say in reply offering a small tug of his lips as she stared at him for a moment longer before turning away, the clear tell of redness on the tip of her ears as she realized their proximity for the first time. 

He didn’t see a reason to tease her about it, not wanting to break the serenity that they were currently in. It was somewhat possible to block everything that happened. 

He did say somewhat. 

The rustling of bushes becoming louder made both of them straighten up and turn back, only to see Jake coming closer in a slow yet determined stride. 

Lo’ak felt his heart starting to beat faster, a sudden change from the steady calm it had managed to find in the last couple of hours. 

The reality was catching up to him again at the appearance of his father. 

Tsireya turned to look at him with her concerned wide eyes again, he didn’t manage to answer her before his dad had reached them - but Lo’ak didn’t expect to notice the nervous fiddle of his hands as Jake stopped only a few feet away. 

“Hey kids-” his pause was out of character. “Do you mind if I speak to my son a bit, Tsireya?”

As if Lo’ak couldn’t fall for the girl more than he already did. Because instead of letting the presence of his father and Toruk Makto completely intimidate her, she turned to him first; Silently asking if he wanted her to leave. 

Jake seemed to be surprised himself, although pleasantly so. He has been so used to everyone outside of his family doing most things at his beck and call, both as a clan leader and war hero. He had clearly underestimated the relationship between the two young teens in front of him. 

Tsireya stood to leave quickly at the assuring nod of Lo’ak, before parting with a polite smile in Jake’s direction and going back to the village with one last look over her shoulder. 

There was a moment of complete stillness before Jake came and sat down on the space previously occupied next to Lo’ak. The boy didn’t even bother to acknowledge his father, simply staring out at the lapping water, shoulders hunched over. 

His two braids on the side of his face felt like the only shield to cover him as he let them hang, avoiding eye contact firmly. 

Jake let out a heavy sigh, having already expected the cold behavior of his youngest son. 

He didn’t blame him either. 

He had acted like a grade-A asshole, with the biggest A to exist in the universe. And towards his own child too. 

Jake Sully has never claimed parenthood to be easy in any way. It was a hard, taxing journey that he obviously was still trying to learn from. It was a road that never stopped no matter how old his kids got. He would always be a father, but he’s admittedly been a shit one as of late. 

And that wasn’t only according to you. 

Your words had hurt. Like a damn punch to his face. Or ten. 

That was true - Neytiri knew it too. And that made him think and regret. If those words stung him as they did, how much had he hurt his own kid by saying something he didn’t even mean?

Not really at least. 

Jake had been angry at the moment. Pissed off, to be honest. But it was also the overwhelming worry of his kid’s disappearance that made him act out. But it was no excuse for anything he had said.

You were still avoiding him. Well, ignoring is more like it. Which was even worse. Besides your siblings, you were actively shutting out the presence of both him and Neytiri despite their tries in the last few hours to speak. 

Kiri was the one to voice out your thoughts. “She won’t speak unless Lo’ak forgives you first.”

Was it strange that Jake was still proud of you? You owned the same pride he did as a young marine and his first moments on Pandora. 

An unyielding pride that often got him in trouble. 

But for you, it was a pride that protected your siblings even against your own parents. 

“You know, sometimes I think you deserve a better dad.”

Lo’ak didn’t reply, but the shift in his body assured Jake that he was paying attention. 

“I never wanted kids. Never even thought of having them until I met your mother. The world was already shitty enough as it was, so I didn’t see a point in bringing new life into it. And after my injury, that thought cemented.”

“Well, I’m sorry for ending up being your kid,” his low mutter was an inner thought not ever planning to see the light of day. Especially in front of the man himself. But he couldn’t stop himself. 

Jake let out a shuddering breath, finally realizing how deep this…trauma his youngest son was experiencing. And you had been right again; it was all his fault. 

“No, no Lo’ak,” moving closer, his son didn’t resist as he gently grabbed the back of his nape to push their foreheads together. 

Despite his bitter words, his body still relaxed at the comforting feeling. Because it was obvious - even after everything, he still loved his dad. Still craved the comforts of his protective touches, and his overpowering hugs that were rare but much needed whenever offered. 

“I’m sorry, son,” Jake whispered, eyes clenched shut and voice wavering with tears. “I have not been the father you needed since the war started, I know that now. I will try to improve, and I can’t promise I won’t fuck up further in the coming days, but I will never not love you.”

“Dad…”

Lo’ak wanted to cry. 

And in the protective embrace of his dad, he did. He let those long held tears flow loose, dripping down his cheeks and starting to obscure his vision as his breath started to heave at the force of it all. 

“What I said wasn’t true. I am proud of the man you’re starting to grow into, and you have never shamed this family. I am the one who should be ashamed, never you.” 

“I-I am sorry-”

“Stop saying sorry,” Jake demanded pulling his son closer. “Your sister was right. My burdens should not fall on your shoulders. You’re still young and deserve to be a child, not a soldier. So I am sorry.”

Pressing his lips against the crown on his youngest boy’s head, Jake only held him as his silent tears turned into soft sobs. All the pain and hurt that he had bottled up because of him, finally being lifted off his young shoulders that should have never been born them to begin with. 

“Will you ever forgive your old man of his faults?” His dad asked after several minutes he finished crying, his deep voice hoarse with nerves. 

Lo’ak had no idea how long his meltdown lasted, only letting out everything in the presence of his dad without restraint until he had no more tears left. It could have been five minutes or ten. Who knew at this point? 

“You’re my dad…” he had whispered in return. “I will always forgive you.”

There was a thankful smile on Jake’s face, wrinkles crinkling in the corners of his wet eyes. “Then you’re a far better person than I have ever been. Thank you.”

He swallowed, and for the first time in a while, his next words had never been more genuine than at this moment. 

“I love you, dad.”

There was a firm, warm squeeze around his body at hearing that. 

“God, I love you too, kiddo. So much you don’t even know.”

Maybe he’d been mistaken after all. 

Lo’ak doubted this would be the end of their turmoils because life came with them. It was just how it was; parents get angry at their kids, siblings get angry at each other and vice versa. 

It was expected, but at least from now on he would be assured of his parents’ love for him, and their presence would be constant and there whenever he would need them despite their own faults as people.

Updates will unfortunately be a bit slow moving forward. My 3rd semester has started and I’ve started to prepare for my MA thesis + 4 classes, so my days are packed 🥲

taglist:

@nao-cchi @eywas-heir @ssc7514 @spicycloudsalad @calums-betch @httpjiikook @ricecakeslove @fanboyluvr @iwaslikeblah   @the-wandering-pan-ace @avatarloversblog @eternallyvenus @enchantinggoateefox @arianapntn @heydemonsitsme @slyvixen1029​ @promiseofeywa @love13tter @directioner5life @bambisposts-blogs @melllinaa  @sugarmummystuff6 @lovekeeho @marit332 @hai-kbai @missroro @lola2004sworld @kage-yaa​

[gguk-n]

Wheels of Desire (Fernando Alonso x Lance Stroll's friend!Reader)

Summary- Finding an older man attractive is the oldest rule in the book, what if said older man is a little hesitant?

{Reader's POV}

Lance and I had recently made acquaintance through our fathers a few months ago. Since we were closer in age, we started to get along quite well. That's how I found myself at the Canadian Grand Prix. Did I know anything about cars? Nope. Did I know anything about Formula One? Nada. But was I supportive friend? Debatable. My dad wanted me at the race, I have an inkling they are trying to set me and Lance up but I believe that ship sailed a long time ago since he already has a girlfriend. That's Lance's burden to bear not mine, I'm here to keep up appearances.

I had the Aston Martin paddock pass slightly sway along as I strode to the hospitality. I did not know anyone here and that asshole didn't even come to greet me at the entrance. As I walked in, I spotted Lance. I smacked the back of his head, "You knew I came here for you, yet you wouldn't even come and greet me" I whined. "I thought you were a big girl" he laughed giving me a hug. "Whatever" I mumbled when my eyes met the man in front of me, who was also dressed in the same shirt as Lance. "Fernando, this is Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, this is Fernando Alonso, my teammate" Lance introduced us. I smiled at him and shook his hand.

I pulled Lance to the side before whispering, "I didn't know your team was this hot" "He's old enough to be your dad." he pointed out. "He isn't my dad and my dad's way older than him" I explained. "Y/N come on" he whined. "Listen, you don't have to do anything, I'm pretty enough to handle it on my own, my only qualm is you hid that beautiful Spanish man from me" I said flipping him off. "How do you know he's Spanish?" he quizzed. "Accent and name, pay attention Strulovich" I sighed. "Now, if you'll excuse me I have a hot man to woo" I whispered and sauntered over to Fernando.

It was tragic honestly, even I could tell the way I was practically throwing myself at Fernando at this point and this man wouldn't even bat an eye. My spirit was starting to run low. But I wasn't giving up just yet, the weekend had just started and I had 2 more days.

Lance took me out to dinner to cheer me up. "In your defence, Fernando probably likes older women not infants" Lance chided. "I hate you" I seethed. "You're just hangry, here have a bite" he said placing a forkful of pasta in my mouth. "You do know how to cheer me up, Lancey" I hummed chewing on the food.

The dinner from last night made it on the tabloid, here, I am trying to woo Fernando and the tabloids are running a story of me and Lance. I think I might have to have a strongly worded letter with the said media houses.

Fernando seemed even more off than the last day; my jokes weren't landing, I couldn't even make him smile at this point. I found myself subconsciously chewing on my lower lip. "You're bleeding" Fernando said holding up a tissue to my lips. His fingers brushed past my lips and now sat on my chin as he added pressure to the wound. "What's got you so anxious?" Fernando asked. "Nothing" I shook my head. "Don't move, yet" Fernando reprimanded holding my head from the back in place with his other hand. I stood still, my brain running a 100 miles an hour, my eyes scanning his face which had creased in focus and his eyes laced with worry. He slowly moved his hand away to see the blood had stopped, I wish it hadn't. All I could think about was how maybe Fernando held your head as he kissed you aggressively.

Fernando left to talk to his engineers. I stood there staring at him until Lance came and closed my mouth. "You're drooling" he chided. "I mean how can I not? Look at him?" I chuckled. Lance just shook his head and walked away.

I spent the whole night formulating but I never came up with anything to at least peak Fernando's interest in me. None of my flirting was working.

I walked into the hospitality with my head down, it was Fernando who greeted me. "You don't look so good" he remarked. "Yeah, I didn't sleep much" I replied. "What's on your mind?" he asked. "Nothing, it's stupid" I brushed him off. "If it was that stupid why'd you stay up thinking about it?" Fernando quizzed. I felt so stupid and annoyed. Before I could open my mouth, Lance had come with a cup of coffee my saving grace. I moaned as I took a large sip from the cup. "You are the best" I said, warming my hands up against the cup. The weather had gotten colder due to the rain and the clothes I had worn were covered in a thin sheet of cold mist.

I watched them move about the hospitality get ready for the race, my eyes lingering on Fernando longer. I had only found out about him 3 days ago and right now, he was taking up an unprecedented amount of space in my head.

I tried to flirt with him as the day progressed but it seemed futile. He would brush me off or just laugh it off. I was starting to lose all hope. I lost all my hope at the end of the day when the team was packing up after the race. "You staying or leaving?" Lance asked. "I have a dinner date with your parents tomorrow and then I'll leave" I said. "Have fun" he remarked. "Aren't you coming too?" I asked. "Nope, I have plans" he said winking at me. I saw Fernando looking at me with sad eyes; I felt weird.

I was out at a bar finishing up my mocktail when I felt some one sit next to me. I turned around to find Fernando. "Hi" I greeted him with a smile. "I thought you were having dinner with Lance's family" Fernando pointed out. "Ah, that's tomorrow. I'm....free today" I said. Fernando seemed like he sighed a sigh of relief but I could be hallucinating. "I'll your finest wine and for the lady" he began now looking at me, "No, I'm good. I'll be leaving now" I said gathering my stuff. "huh....stay" he whispered in the moment the song changed.

I was shocked but I sat back down. "Why?" I asked. "You look like you don't want to be alone" he commented taking a sip of his wine. "I would like company, if I am being honest" I stated. "If you don't mind an old man's company, I'm here" he shrugged his shoulder. "You're not old and I would love your company" I smiled. "Did you drive here?" I asked. "No, taxi" he said. "Great! I'll have your finest champagne" I told the bartender. The two of us sat there enjoying each other's company.

After a while, we decided to exit the bar together; Fernando had called a cab and offered to drop me back. I'm not sure if it was the close proximity in the cab or the alcohol but when our fingers brushed I felt electricity course through me. I turned to see if he felt the same and he must've since he was staring at me. Without a second thought I crashed my lips against his. It took me a moment to realise but when I did, I suddenly pulled away, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that" I mumbled trying to put as much distance between us. "I...I....I thought you liked Lance" he muttered. "What? Eww!! He's like a brother to me. I've been trying to flirt with you since I laid eyes on you" I explained. "Really?" He asked. "Oh My God, did you think I'm that friendly to everyone?" I retorted. "I don't know" he mumbled running a hand through his hair. "Don't you think it's weird since I'm so much older than you?" he asked. I just shrugged, "I don't really look at people's ages" He looked hesitant. "Fernando, I wanna go on a date with you, I wanna date you, I wanna be your girlfriend, maybe" I spoke loud and clear. His mouth opened and closed a few time, "It's okay, take your time. Can I have your number though?" I asked hopeful. He took my phone entered his number and as the taxi driver pulled up to my hotel, Fernando pulled me in for a kiss. "I'm not completely sure but I think I want to go out on a date with you too" he muttered with a smile. "I'll be in Spain next month, see you then" I whispered kissing his cheek and exiting the taxi.

[gendrie]

arya and melisandre are really interesting foils to me. i don’t think it ever gets discussed, though. theres not really a lot of overlap between arya fans and team dragonstone fans i guess lol. but arya and melisandre are the only female povs to truly practice sorcery. theres so much to compare and contrast between them. at the start of the series arya is only 9 years old. she is just a child and the youngest female pov. melisandre is much, much older. we don’t even know how old, but she’s been practicing magic “for years beyond count” so...she’s the oldest pov by far. 

they're represented by contrasting elements: water and fire. melisandre has a serene aura. arya has a more wild temperament. melisandre is statuesque. arya is petite. both are described as being slender and graceful. they speak several tongues including high valyrian. 

While the boy was gone, Melisandre washed herself and changed her robes. Her sleeves were full of hidden pockets, and she checked them carefully as she did every morning to make certain all her powders were in place. (Melisandre, ADWD)

Last of all she threw her cloak across her shoulders. It was a real mummer's cloak, purple wool lined in red silk, with a hood to keep the rain off, and three secret pockets too. She'd hid some coins in one of those, an iron key in another, a blade in the last. (Arya, TWOW) 

they’re both fairly unconventional for their gender too. neither could be called a “proper” (ie: submissive) lady. they are driven and dangerous. melisandre comes to be seen as stannis’ “true queen” but she views herself as a knight in her own way. she casts an illusion to look very appealing and yet she’s also deeply intimidating to most. stannis is impressed with melisandre’s ability to inspire fear even in grown men. 

“I have ships . . . and I have her. The red woman. Half my knights are afraid even to say her name, did you know? If she can do nothing else, a sorceress who can inspire such dread in grown men is not to be despised. A frightened man is a beaten man. And perhaps she can do more. I mean to find out.” (Davos, ACOK)

Gendry and Hot Pie did not question her choice. She had the map, after all, and Hot Pie seemed almost as terrified of her as of the men who might be coming after them. He had seen the guard she'd killed. It's better if he's scared of me, she told herself. That way he'll do like I say, instead of something stupid. (Arya, ASOS) 

arya has a fierce reputation to those who know her but she’s only a small child and vulnerable so most don’t view her as a potential threat. she shares her soul with a ferocious direwolf and aims to embody those traits herself. she is a leader by nature. arya has gotten boys to follow her command despite being younger and a girl. 

Melisandre paid the naked steel no mind. If the wildling had meant her harm, she would have seen it in her flames. Danger to her own person was the first thing she had learned to see, back when she was still half a child, a slave girl bound for life to the great red temple. It was still the first thing she looked for whenever she gazed into a fire. (ADWD) 

relatively speaking, we don’t know a lot about melisandre, but we do know she was a slave at one point and likely from humble origins. she has devoted her life in service to r’hllor. whatever connected her to her old life is a distant memory. 

“We are but servants of the God of Many Faces." "Valar dohaeris." All men must serve. "You know the words, but you are too proud to serve. A servant must be humble and obedient." "I obey. I can be humbler than anyone." (Arya, ADWD)

arya has been enslaved too, but she was born the daughter of a great lord and lady. as her house has fallen arya is driven across the narrow sea to the temple of the many faced god. she is trying to be a servant of god, but the results are mixed. arya has a lot of previous allegiances because of her place in the world. she will not be able to make the sacrifice in the end. 

"A shadow is a thing of darkness." "You are more ignorant than a child, ser knight. There are no shadows in the dark. Shadows are the servants of light, the children of fire. The brightest flame casts the darkest shadows." (Davos, ACOK)

"All gods have their instruments, men and women who serve them and help to work their will on earth. “ (Arya, AFFC) 

both of their storylines are deeply involved with religion. arya is in religious training currently and she has significant interactions with all the major religions in asoiaf. arya is tolerant and curious. even if she is a bit skeptical of the gods in general. the gods she truly follows of the old gods of the north. 

Through the leafy canopy she could see the bone-white branches of the heart tree. It looks just like the one in Winterfell from here. If only it had been . . . then when she climbed down she would have been home again, and maybe find her father sitting under the weirwood where he always sat. (Arya, ACOK) 

for a character who hasn’t stepped foot in the north since her first chapter weirwoods are an important symbol in arya’s storyline. they represent her faith and culture, her identity and her family, her past and her future. they show up in every book for her in one form or another. 

The weirwood was the heart of Winterfell, Lord Eddard always said . . . but to save the castle Jon would have to tear that heart up by its ancient roots, and feed it to the red woman's hungry fire god. I have no right, he thought. Winterfell belongs to the old gods. (Jon, ASOS) 

melisandre would have burned the weirwood at winterfell if jon had accepted stannis’ offer to become jon stark, lord of winterfell. that’s why he rejected it. 

The red woman walked round the fire three times, praying once in the speech of Asshai, once in High Valyrian, and once in the Common Tongue. Davos understood only the last. "R'hllor, come to us in our darkness," she called. "Lord of Light, we offer you these false gods, these seven who are one, and him the enemy. Take them and cast your light upon us, for the night is dark and full of terrors." (Davos, ACOK) 

melisandre is not tolerant or curious. she views any religion that is not r’hllor as false. arya is familiar with r’hllor too. she has seen men rise from the dead before. she knows thoros of myr another red priest who receives visions too.

Soon she could even feel the heat in the air, as red R'hllor's worshipers lifted their voices in prayer. "For the night is dark and full of terrors," they prayed. Not for me. Her nights were bathed in moonlight and filled with the songs of her pack, with the taste of red meat torn off the bone, with the warm familiar smells of her grey cousins. Only during the days was she alone and blind. (Arya, ADWD) 

a major factor in this faith is fear of death and darkness. that is what melisandre preaches. she is terrified of the dark and won’t even let the lights go out in her chambers. which i think is a fascinating character trait for a character as old as her. fear of the dark is a trait associated with children. but arya, the child, learns early on to not fear the darkness. 

She had no time for sleep, with the weight of the world upon her shoulders. And she feared to dream. Sleep is a little death, dreams the whisperings of the Other, who would drag us all into his eternal night. (Melisandre, ADWD)

mel is afraid to dream and rarely sleeps because of it. she associates both with the great other. 

Some mornings Arya did not want to wake at all. She would huddle beneath her cloak with her eyes squeezed shut and try to will herself back to sleep. If the Hound would only have left her alone, she would have slept all day and all night. And dreamed. That was the best part, the dreaming. She dreamed of wolves most every night. A great pack of wolves, with her at the head. (Arya, ASOS) 

even if she sometimes struggles with nightmares(/depression) dreams have been a great source of comfort for arya more often than not. 

“The night is dark and full of terrors, the day bright and beautiful and full of hope. One is black, the other white. There is ice and there is fire. Hate and love. Bitter and sweet. Male and female. Pain and pleasure. Winter and summer. Evil and good." She took a step toward him. "Death and life. Everywhere, opposites. Everywhere, the war." (Davos, ASOS) 

the stance that melisandre takes is somewhat extreme. she subscribes to a completely black and white morality. melisandre's entire mission is to fight against death. she has done a better job than most. but even melisandre the red priestess of asshai cannot escape death forever. 

The kindly man chuckled. "He is a man like any other, with light in him and darkness. It is not for you to judge him." That gave her pause. "Have the gods judged him?" (Arya, ADWD) 

the faceless men are, obviously, a problematic institution, but they are teaching arya valuable lessons. the order is represented by the colors black and white - but they’re not at war. they are in balance. imo, this is going to be the outcome of the war to come. you cannot beat death. the faceless men are right when they say “valar morghulis”

"You are safe here. This is the House of Black and White, my child. Though you are young to seek the favor of the Many-Faced God." "Is he like the southron god, the one with seven faces?" "Seven? No. He has faces beyond count, little one, as many faces as there are stars in the sky. In Braavos, men worship as they will . . . but at the end of every road stands Him of Many Faces, waiting. He will be there for you one day, do not fear. You need not rush to his embrace." (Arya, AFFC) 

the hob&w, according to the kindly man, is “a place of peace” where death is “not the worst thing” and “always gentle”. the many faced god is the god of death and is therefore, likely, the great other from an entirely different perspective. death, despair, darkness are all parts of the human experience. they are often painful and scary, but everyone has to face them. 

Jon Snow turned to Melisandre. "What sorcery is this?" "Call it what you will. Glamor, seeming, illusion. R'hllor is Lord of Light, Jon Snow, and it is given to his servants to weave with it, as others weave with thread." [...] She made it sound a simple thing, and easy. They need never know how difficult it had been, or how much it had cost her. That was a lesson Melisandre had learned long before Asshai; the more effortless the sorcery appears, the more men fear the sorcerer. (Melisandre, ADWD)

"This will hurt," he warned her, "but pain is the price of power. Do not move." "Mummers change their faces with artifice," the kindly man was saying, "and sorcerers use glamors, weaving light and shadow and desire to make illusions that trick the eye. These arts you shall learn, but what we do here goes deeper. Wise men can see through artifice, and glamors dissolve before sharp eyes, but the face you are about to don will be as true and solid as that face you were born with."

She probed around inside her mouth with her tongue, but found no holes or broken teeth. Sorcery, she thought. I have a new face. An ugly, broken face. (Arya, ADWD)

they might be on opposing teams but the skills they use have quite a bit of overlap. both utilize sorcery and bloodmagic. these are difficult, costly, painful things to learn. melisandre is a very impressive sorceress because she’s studied her craft for so long. she is able to work several glamors at once. she’s also able to do her whole shadow baby assassin thing. 

if arya stuck around with the faceless men long enough she would learn glamor too. it’s not the faceless men’s trademark, though. they use bloodmagic from valyria to create disguises that cannot be seen through using the faces of the dead. arya’s been trained and has a sharp eye to begin with. i think if her and melisandre met arya would be able to see past her glamor which would be a really cool perspective. 

"The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you." "I have no sister." The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister? Melisandre seemed amused. "What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?" "Arya." His voice was hoarse. "My half-sister, truly …" (Jon, ADWD) 

“I told you that the Lord of Light would hear your prayers. You wanted a way to save your little sister and still hold fast to the honor that means so much to you, to the vows you swore before your wooden god." She pointed with a pale finger. "There he stands, Lord Snow. Arya's deliverance. A gift from the Lord of Light … and me." (Melisandre, ADWD) 

arya is completely unaware of melisandre’s existence, but the opposite is not true. melisandre has become an important figure on the wall. she is the one who comes up with the idea to send mance south to rescue “arya”. it seems melisandre is going to become a valuable ally to jon snow (she’s gonna bring his ass back to life lbr) and in the fight against the others. 

The king would only want to marry [Arya] to one of his own men, Horpe or Massey or Godry Giantslayer, and the gods alone knew what use the red woman might want to make of her. (Jon, ADWD)

it’s likely her and arya will cross paths at some point. it’s one of the meetings i’d be most excited to see. 

[in-my-feels-probably]

NIKOLAI LANTSOV MY LOVE

Maybe some angst/hurt/comfort where reader patches him up or from the show the aftermath of the battle where he's wounded

Salt In The Wound

Request: Maybe some angst/hurt/comfort where reader patches him up or from the show the aftermath of the battle where he's wounded

Hi! This is my first time writing for Nikolai! Bear with me while I try and get his character worked out, he’s a bit hard to write for. But I hope you like the outcome! Thanks for the request :)

(Warnings: season 2 spoilers, mentions of death, mentions of fighting, blood and wounds, general angsty shit, let me know if i missed anything)

—

When you arrived back in Keramzin, you found Nikolai and his crew in tatters. You had gone with Tolya to find the Sword of Neshyenyer, orders directly from Nikolai himself. It was bullshit, in your opinion. 

He had done it to keep you safe, you knew that. He didn’t want you anywhere near the Fold, not while the Darkling still lived. Tolya was more than capable of keeping you safe, so you were sent with him. It wasn’t like Nikolai thought that you couldn’t handle yourself. That wasn’t it at all. He just preferred being the one to keep you safe, and he couldn’t do that while the Darkling was still in play. You had whined, but relented, not wanting to cause him any more stress than he was already under.

After your own obstacles, you finally made it back to Keramzin with the sword in your possession. To your horror, Nikolai’s ship was found wrecked in the valley. 

Tolya ordered everyone to split up, and you followed him. You fought alongside him, letting him take the lead. When you caught onto Nikolai’s trail, a Heartrender found their way up the cliffside where you and Tolya were hiding. 

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered, holding you still by your shoulders. “I have to slow our heartbeats so she doesn’t know we’re coming.”

You nodded, sitting as still as you could beside him. It felt like you were suffocating, your body going rigid. Tolya held you like that until he was sure the other Heartrender was gone, and then he released you. You gasped for breath, slumping against the boulder behind you. Tolya stood, bracing your arm with his to hoist you up.

“Your heart is pounding. Are you that scared for him?” He asked, continuing on Nikolai’s trail. 

You quickly followed behind, trying not to think about the worst possibilities. He could be hurt, or–Saint’s forbid–dead. The thought nearly made your knees buckle. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the idea. But there was no point in pretending. Tolya knew your heart. He knew who it was beating for.

“I always am.”

—

Minutes later, you had followed Tolya all the way through the first crowd of Grisha that were blocking Nikolai and his crew into a corner. Together, you took them down one by one, following their trail all the way to where Nikolai was hiding. The Crows came in from the opposite direction, taking out what was left of the band of Grisha still fighting. 

Tamar buried her axe in the last Squallor’s head, and Nikolai stood to shoot the last remaining Tidemaker. 

The one you would come to hold responsible for the death of Dominik Vertov, Nikolai’s oldest friend. Tolya boosted you over the wooden wall just in time to see her body hit the ground. 

“Nikolai,” you gasped, taking in his appearance. 

He was caked in dirt, his clothes torn. He had cut himself somewhere along his temple and cheek, with blood and grime matted into his hair. His pants were ripped, revealing a nasty gash in his lower thigh. He appeared to be limping as he turned at the sound of your voice, his shoulders slumping in relief. 

You closed the gap between you both, wrapping your arms tight around his neck. He pulled you into a bone crushing hug, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. 

“You’re alright,” he murmured, breathing you in. “Saints, I thought that was it for me for a second there. Sending you with Tolya was smart thinking on my part.”

You squeezed him tighter, grumbling as you scolded him. “I’m never listening to you again! From now on, you’re staying by my side. I don’t care what your orders are. Look at you, you’re hurt!”

“Barely a scratch, darling,” he said reassuringly as he finally pulled away, taking your hand in his. “You can yell at me later, alright? The blade, did you find it?”

Kaz picked up his cane, nodding. “Inej has it. They’ve gone to find Alina and Mal.”

“We have to do the same. If Kirigan brought the fight here, he’s gunning for her.”

Tolya patted Nikolai on the shoulder, getting his attention. “Y/N and I cleared a way into the fort. Come on!”

You wanted nothing more in that moment than to whisk Nikolai away from all the chaos and madness of the looming threat in front of you. Keeping him away from the Fold and out of harm’s way was what your brain was screaming at you to do. But you had your duty to Nikolai, and to Ravka. You had a duty to Alina, who was going to save you all. You had to put aside your own wants, and do what was right. 

Nikolai nodded, squeezing your hand. “Come on, milaya.”

Sweet girl.

You sighed, wrapping one arm around Nikolai’s waist, letting him hold on to the other to brace himself. Once you were sure he was ready, you moved in tandem. Together, you hurried behind the group into the fort. 

—

The following events couldn’t have taken more than an hour. But it felt like a lifetime, watching Nikolai’s every move in the Fold. 

Kaz had given him his cane so that your arms were free. You were able to fight then, and you fought with your life alongside your friends as you made your way through the fort. 

By the end of it, the Fold was gone. The darkness was gone, and the Darkling along with it. 

But not before the nichevo’ya got ahold of Nikolai, clawing him in the shoulder as it dragged him up a column. 

That was the worst of it. Knowing he was looking death in the eye, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The nichevo’ya were unkillable without the blade, and Inej was nowhere in sight. You had clambered to get to him, screaming and waving your hands to try and distract the monster, begging for it to let Nikolai go. 

Tamar had held you back, letting Tolya take the lead alongside Adrik and Nadia. 

“He’d kill me for letting you die for him, and you know it!” She said solemnly, her face crumbling at the sight of her King. “I promised him I would keep you safe, Y/N! Let them do this.”

You felt your knees buckling, and your throat beginning to burn as you let out desperate wails and pleas. You could barely see through your tears as you begged Tamar to let you go, trying to wrench yourself free of her hold. Nadia and Adrik continued to use their powers to try and separate the shadows, their attempts failing.

Finally—to your relief—the monster disappeared upon the Darkling’s death. 

Nikolai dropped to the floor, landing with a harsh thud. Tolya moved to catch him, and Tamar let you go, joining her brother at Nikolai’s side. 

“Kirigan must be dead!”

You scrambled to the floor, reaching for any part of Nikolai you could hold on to. He immediately chased your touch, clinging to your arms as you laid by his side. He gasped for breath, clutching his chest. 

You let out a cry of relief, cupping his jaw. Your throat was raw, your voice small. 

“Nikolai,” you said through tears. “Are you alright?”

He clutched at his shoulder, grimacing in pain. He remained stoic, trying to hide his fear for you. It was a valiant effort, but he couldn’t keep up the facade, a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks as he breathed heavily. 

“I’m alright, darling,” he nodded, not sure if his words were more in an effort to reassure you or himself. Either way, not much comfort came from his words. 

He clutched your hands tightly for a moment, before allowing you, Tolya, and Tamar to help him up off the floor.

—

Outside, you rested Nikolai on top of a crate to get him off his feet. 

Inej came down with Alina to confirm the death of the Darkling, letting Nikolai know that Zoya was guarding the body. With your help, he shakily stood, thanking everyone for their help. Much to your displeasure, he asked you to take him back to his ship. He needed a minute to himself, before everyone needed to gather and discuss what to do next.

“That’s a lot of walking on that leg, Nikolai,” you said anxiously, walking cautiously behind him as he led you up the hill. “You’re so stubborn, sometimes.”

He smiled, leaning into you. “You love it.”

You rolled your eyes, keeping your arm around his waist as you followed Tamar and Tolya back to the ship. Aboard the ship, you eased him down onto a turned over barrel. Tolya came over to hand you a sack full of bandages and clean rags.

“Take care of him,” he smiled, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We’ll be over here if you need anything. We should head back to Alina soon, though.”

You nodded, giving him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Tolya. For everything.”

—

“Are you alright?” You asked once everyone had settled, and Tamar and Tolya had given you a moment alone.

“Dominik,” Nikolai answered sadly, casting his eyes to the deck.

“That wasn’t your fault,” you firmly reassured, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to pull him into your side. “He died for his King and country. He was brave enough to save your life. For that, I’ll be eternally grateful to him.”

Nikolai’s face crumbled, and he hid his expression into your side. “I don’t want anyone dying for me, Y/N. I don’t want to be the kind of King who has to ask his people to lay down their lives for him.”

You ran a hand up and down his back, bending down to press a kiss on the top of his head. 

“Listen to me. You’re going to be the best King that Ravka has ever seen. And that comes with making sacrifices. It’s not fair, I know. I know you don’t want it, and I wish I could take on that burden for you. But you’re all we’ve got, and I believe in you. We all do.”

Nikolai sniffled, letting his cheek rest against your stomach. You combed your fingers through his hair, careful to avoid the gash on his temple. 

“I’m so sorry, my love. I know how much Dominik meant to you. But his death wasn’t for nothing, I need you to understand that. He didn’t die in vain. His bravery will be remembered, I promise you that. And so will yours, because of today. I’m so proud of you, lapushka.”

Darling.

“I’m getting blood on your shirt,” he spoke, muffled into you.

“I don’t care, love. It’s just a shirt.”

You lightly chuckled, letting him change the subject. For a man who speaks so highly of himself, Nikolai didn’t take genuine kindness and adoration well. It was a good thing his face was hidden in your shirt. His cheeks were flushed a rosy pink at your words, his eyes glazed with tears. You continued running your fingers through his hair, when he finally sniffed, pulling back.

“I care,” he grinned, looking up at you. “That’s my shirt you’re wearing.”

You smiled sheepishly down at him, nodding. “Forgot about that. Well, I suppose we should get you cleaned up, then. Alright?”

Nikolai nodded, and you reached into the bag, pulling out a couple of clean cloths. You used your canteen to wet them, crouching down to deal with the gash on his leg first. You wiped as gently as you could, grimacing when he would wince. 

“I don’t think you need stitches. Best get a Healer, though. I don’t want you limping the rest of the day.”

You finished wrapping his leg, standing to grab a fresh cloth. You wet it, standing to the side of Nikolai to try and wipe the caked blood and dirt out of his hair so you could find the source of the bleeding. You sighed in frustration, gently untangling the hair matted to his temple. 

“What?” He asked quietly.

“Nothing. I just can’t figure out where you’ve cut yourself. I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No, darling,” he murmured. 

You nodded, continuing to wipe away the dry blood from his temple. It was a miracle he wasn’t more injured. You huffed, trying not to think about the fact that you weren’t with him when the ship went down. Trying not to think about the fact that he could have died, and you never would have seen him again. Never would have gotten to run your fingers through his hair again, or hold him in your arms. Never—

You were pulled from your thoughts when you felt hands grip your hips, pulling you forward. 

You looked down to see Nikolai gazing up at you, his hands resting on your hips. He pulled you into him, slotting you between his legs. You rested your hands on his shoulders, steadying yourself. 

“Stop looking at me like that.”

You wouldn’t meet his gaze, clutching his shirt in your hand. “Like what?”

“Like you’re looking at a ghost.”

You clutched him harder, taking a deep breath. You finally met his eyes, and he was looking at you with determination. He tugged you further into him, holding you still. 

“I’m right here, milaya,” he said, reaching for your hands. “I’m alright.”

“But you almost weren’t,” you said shakily, squeezing his hands tight. “I was so worried, Nikolai.”

He stood on wavering legs, wrapping his arms around you. He pulled you into his chest, squeezing you tight. You pressed your cheek into his chest, clutching him as close to you as you could. You decided to stifle the thought, dropping the conversation. 

He was here with you, right here. And he was alive. That was enough.

“I didn’t finish bandaging you,” you murmured into his chest.

Nikolai chuckled, pressing a kiss into your hair. “I’ll have Genya do it. You were butchering it, anyway.”

You pulled away, playfully slapping his arm. “Was not!”

“You were,” he mused, taking your hand. “But that’s alright. I don’t keep you around because you’re a good Healer.”

You raised a brow, turning to head off the ship back in the direction of the fort. “And what do you keep me around for, moi tsar?”

Nikolai smirked, taking your hand as you guided him down. “Other things, milaya. Other things.”

—

A/N - Hi! Hope this is alright :)

[needforspeed161]

Some IceMav head cannons I thought up as I drank my coffee this morning 💙

I absolutely LOVE icemav fics where there’s some soft domestic fluff in the mornings, like whether they’re 25 or 50, they’ll wake eachother up with soft kisses and snuggles.

Mav bringing Ice his coffee just the way he likes it, as they enjoy the morning before they have to get ready for work or (if they’re retired) maybe read the paper together and decide what to do that day. Ice wants to invite the daggers over for a home cooked brunch because even though he’s the COMPACFLT and acts all tough, he wants the younger pilots (their adopted kids) to have a nice home cooked meal every so often. Ice LOVES to cook for them. Plus he knows from years of experience that mess hall food isn’t always the best.

They love having them all over for game nights too, be it monopoly, life, scrabble, whatever game Maverick decides to pull out from his extensive collection (carrier life isn’t that exciting at times so I imagine he collected alot of board games over the years)

His favorite being an old beat up box of operation he and Goose used to play on the ship for HOURS, the gentle sway of the carrier made it all the more challenging and fun.

Ice even remembers getting wrapped up into a couple games with slider as well, he’s sure he lost hundreds of dollars to Maverick and goose with that damn game over the years 😂

They also like to invite the flyboys over for poker nights, barbecues, movies. Whatever they feel like doing that night.

Hollywood and Wolfman and Slider more than happy to come spend the evening with two of their oldest friends. A couple times they were even able to get Merlin, and Sundown over as well.

They held Cougars first grandkids birthday in their backyard. Complete with bouncy house and everything. Even though ice insisted “Maverick darling he’s turning one….i don’t think he’ll need a bounce house…” which was met with “cmon Tom please!”

Maverick ended up playing in it more than the kids did. And when the Daggers began to flow in you know that thing was filled with pilots. Chaos ensued and let’s just say Ice was worried he wouldn’t get the deposit back. But as soon as he seen the happiness on mavericks and the daggers faces his worried just seemed to melt away.

Wolf even managed to drag Hollywood in at one point.

Maverick loves pictures, he has ever since he was a boy and all he had to remember his parents were some photos. Pictures slowly began to fill their walls and countertops over the years. Old ones of his parents, Him and Goose or Goose and Carole holding Bradley when he was a baby.

Younger pictures of him and Ice, graduating Top Gun and several of their carrier missions that followed.

pictures from every single one of the daggers Top Gun graduations. Bob and Natasha’s wedding, Bradley and Jake’s engagement (soon to be wedding)

He and Ices official wedding photos (after almost 30 years once gay marriage was legalized)

Christmas photos of all of them surrounding the tree, they loved having a big family….it made their hearts soar.

[f1shart]

i am Hearing you Out on Tankbalt. me and bro when we're traumatized teens forced to carry the curse of being too much like our parents and not enough at the same time. please go on

EVERYTHING TANKBALT HAS IN COMMON

rambling under the cut. aha

both the oldest brother with two younger siblings and are the strongest out of them (IGNORING TANK'S 0 BODY POINTS) - you could say they take on the protector role

The Anger

both cover their faces

neurodivergent coded. one camouflages and the other masks come the fuck ON

they have one signature color (which are complementary fyi 💚❤️)

both involved in family feuds though the grunt-smith one is much smaller in scale. also they both have a really gay obsession with a boy from their opposing clan

dead moms that are a key factor in their unbridled Rage

on the topic of family, they both also have a male parental figure that has both a heavy overall influence on them and encourages them to partake in the feud (in consort's case you could argue he doesnt actually encourage tybalt to beat the shit out of the monty brothers every day, but he also doesn't effectively stop him or even make an effort to. i say "effectively" as a reference to the scene in r&j where capulet calls him a saucy boy for wanting to deal with romeoSORRY IM SO OBSESSED WITH THAT)

going back to the color thing can i also say how both their colors relate heavily to their family/expectations... tank's green is obviously representative of how buzz expects him to pursue a career in the military and center his whole life around it; meanwhile tybalt's red, often the "Capulet color" in many r&j adaptations, represents his very strong allegiance to his clan and how he's like. the only teen in that town to actually give a fuck about the feud

both are fanonically associated with an animal aka angry pussy and perrito encerrado <3 not to mention that the kitty x puppy type ship dynamic is very popular

both technically come from wealthy families? i'm just being logical here - i KNOW the grunts dont have a super mega amount of cash in their bank like the capps (and those guys are a whole different breed of rich..) but generals make a fuckton of money irl so just imagine the accumulated wealth of wholeass generations of them!! plus, buzz often gets this one chance card that, if you choose correctly, he brings home §50,000. if u get that one make sure to choose to launch a missile at the thingy (asteroid?) btw

what if we dove into fanon real quick..you could sayyy they both have physical signs of their trauma ^_^ for tybalt, it's his burn scars from escaping the fire that killed his parents when he was young and additionally having to save his even younger sisters. for tankernaut there's a couple of things you could argue: 1. his ptosis. i typically depict it as a congenital thing mysef but perhaps it's stress-induced? from my 5-second google search i've concluded that this isn't possible as a permanent affliction but first of all Fuck Realism, secondly it could be a thing that just appears every once in a while when he's reeeally going through it. and 2. his funny bone injury mentioned in gba/ds, presumably obtained on the battlefield. i've also seen tank depicted with more intense scarring (shoutout to my boy mash) but yap yap NEXT POINT?!??

hmmmmm ah. i think my brain juice's all fixzled oit.... hm. both are whi..te...???

both reeeaalllyy gay like fag asf. quite possibly the gayest boys of the sim franchise

TANKBALT GALLERY

[lisenberry]

The sweat on your skin is better than regret on your heart

Part three! (One and Two) I know I promised smut, but I just got really deep into his tattoos. Part four will finish this up, I swear.

Tattoo Artist!Price x F!Reader

He led you towards the back of the shop, past the reception desk and the waiting area, and behind the black velvet privacy curtain.  You were surprised at how clean it was in his workspace.  Welcoming in its warmth.  You expected neon lights and goth décor.  Crystal skulls and gleaming stainless steel.

Instead, it was a palette of rich, earthy tones.  A supple looking camel-colored leather sofa, maps of the ocean and model ships of every shape and size.  A compass rose painted with elaborate detail on the ceiling.  A stained-glass light fixture at its center. 

“It’s beautiful in here,” you mused, as you spun around slowly in a mix of awe and anticipation.  If you were to get a tattoo, it would be the place. 

“If you give me a second, I can draw you up a few ideas.  The ones you showed me on your little phone are uninspired shit.”  He slipped another cig from his pack and tucked it behind his ear.  Always at the ready.

“I’m actually more worried about the placement.”  You bit your lip for courage.  You couldn’t believe you were doing this.  “Could you show me yours?  Maybe that’ll help me decide.”

You sat atop a padded seat that he could recline forward and backward, raise up and down to suit the best position.  It was comfortable and smooth against the back of your knees. 

“I think we can stop pretending why you’re still here.  You want me to help you forget your boyfriend, don’t you?  Work you up so hard—so good and proper—that you don’t remember his name.”

But even as he spoke, he obliged you.  Tugged his shirt off efficiently, pulling it up from behind his neck and shrugging it over the front of his shoulders, letting it come to rest between his wrists.  It briefly looked like handcuffs before he tossed it on the floor beside him.

His hair stuck up in roguish angles before he could smooth it down with a stiff swipe of his palm.   

“No, I want to remember.  Remember this feeling for the rest of my life.”  You couldn’t look away as he stood so close to you, so proudly as if for an inspection. 

At the swath of hair that curled around the thick muscles of his chest and trailed down to disappear beneath the waist of the pants that hung low where his hands rested on his hips.

“What feeling is that?”

“Empty?”  You reached a hand out tentatively to touch the skin along his side.  To move him closer for a better look.  “But free.”

He was inked in a scattering of places, like memories collected over time.  No rhyme or symmetry to their arrangement.  A snake coiled around his shoulder and sunk its teeth into his collarbone.  A black bird with a long neck and hooked beak sat vigilantly on one bicep while a simple, unadorned dagger with wings claimed the other.

Some more weathered than others, it was hard to tell which was the oldest. 

“What’s the bird for?”  you asked, nodding to his left arm.  Below it was written “You’ll never walk alone” in stylized script. 

“That’s a liver bird.  The symbol of the LFC.”  A football club?  You cracked a smile at the boyishness of it.  You wondered if that was his first one, as a lad staking his claim on his body.  And the world.

“And the snake?”  You took your time tracing his right shoulder with your fingertips. 

“I hate snakes.  Scare me to death.”  Brave then, to carry one around with him always, forever creeping up to bite him. 

“And the bees?  You scared of them, too?”  You noted the collection of realistically drawn bumble bees at his side, fresher and with bright yellow colors. 

“Those are for my nieces.  Beatrice, Brenna and Bailey.”  He pointed to each, with a glimmer of softness in his voice as he recalled their names.

As you slid your hands to his hips, you turned him around to view the larger canvas at his back.  Just as disjointed as his front, your gaze fell to a ghostly face. 

More skeleton than specter, it sat on his right shoulder.  It’s teeth were made of bullets, and it stared blankly back at you.  The pitch black in the depths of its eyes unnerving. 

Beside it was a bear, warlike in its posture.  Its face open and fearsome, ready to consume its foe.  A claymore style longsword, with a thistle design at its hilt held in its massive paws.

One last piece balanced out the trinity.  A Knight Templar, crouched in armor.  On one bent knee, in service to a force unseen. 

They felt significant, inked in a similar style and with a fluidity that bound them together. 

“They’re important to you?”

“To be at my back?  Yeah.  They’re the best.”

From there, your fingers moved lower, to a set of four lions sat on their flanks.  You recognized them from history.  They were the Landseed lions of Admiral Nelson’s monument in Trafalgar Square.  They’d once held names too, like his nieces. 

Peace. War. Vigilance. Determination.

But these had arrows in their backs.  You imagined that each one in the count held a significance.  Not a life taken.  Or a victory.  Not something so crass and boastful.  Instead, something lost.

Below each, he’d had a set of coral red poppies added.  Bright and vibrant and new.

“It’s lovely,” you felt a tear drift down your cheek.  You didn’t know why.  It happened sometimes when you were at a museum or a gallery.  Moved beyond words at something beyond yourself.  The unbridled expression of another.

The last was a lone set of crosshairs, in a style so different than the rest.  Thin and unsure, as if doodled in a dream.  Just below his neck.  Dead-center at the crest of his spine.

“What’s this one?” You grazed it gently with your fingers.  Not entirely sure you wanted the answer.

“That’s the one that finally gets me, love,” he growled as he twisted around and held your probing hand in his.  “You’ve looked your fill.  Now it’s my turn.”

[merinsedai]

Thank you, @ficreadingchallenge for this fun little bingo challenge this summer! Some of these, I could have filled multiple times and some I had to have a search for, but all part of the fun!

1. Under the influence: Spoils of War by @seiya-starsniper [E] Aphrodisiacs! Starting strongly with the smut. Kinda feral for this piece, multiple rereads. Hob is not a good man but he is good in bed. Dream has not spoken since he arrived. How long ago that was I don't know, but I'm in awe of the pettiness. Excellent, love it. Very much E (and probably not the only one on this list...)

2. Newest fic in the tag of your choice: listen, I'm very one-track minded. Dreamling has basically been the only tag of my choice for the past two years. So, the newest fic when I decided to do this square was: Dream Ship by @often-adamanta [E] A spicy little tale set on a space ship which Dream controls and Hob's his muscle. They're a new partnership and Dream's not happy about it so he's giving Hob the silent treatment. Queue Hob taking some alone time, Dream accidentally interrupting and Hob having no privacy issues at all. The start of something beautiful, no doubt.

3. Inspired by another fanwork: I'll Go To Sleep and Dream Again by @chaosheadspace [E] which is inspired by Shelter by softestpunk. An accidentally human Dream has need of the help of Hob Gadling to help him navigate life as a human (eg facial hair, food, and morning wood), regain his Endlessness and recover his tools. Whilst falling in love and having some hot sex ofc. Also, a lot of lovely petnames.

4. Mistaken Identity: As a Stranger I Know Myself by @phinofthestorm and @sleepsonfutons [E] Could be no other choice for this square. Gripping drama, mysteries, feeeeelings, smut (obvs), plentiful existential angst, and shit goin' down. Featuring Jessamy the raven knocking her head against the wall; Burgess's cane; name repetitions; everyone having A Time of it; side characters Shipping Them Too; oh, and a main character you don't expect to like as much as you do...

5.Slow Burn: What Dreams May Come, When Living is at an End by Sebena [T] This fandom is slow burn central, but this is the fic I'm currently in the middle of, and I'm quite enamoured with the relationship between Knight Hob and Morpheus, and it's beautifully descriptive. Plus some lovely pieces of art by @teejaystumbles A real treat.

6. Dressing Up: Make it Count by @arialerendeair [E] Dream gets to dress Hob up very nicely for posh dinners aboard the world's most famous ocean liner in this wonderful Titanic AU. Dream gets to dress down, too! A longer fic but absolutely gripping! Could also use Aria and Konstadt's Colour Forecasting [E] for this square. There's lots of fancy tailoring and clothing choices going on here. And lots of smut, relationship navigation and lots and lots of kissing.

7.Author's oldest fic: Metamorphosis by @windsweptinred [M] Delightful fic about-yes- the metamorphosis of Dream and Hob into Something Else. Starts with high drama as Dream is about to take Death's hand as the Kindly Ones are ravaging the Dreaming and takes things in a very different direction. There's stunning artwork on each chapter that really adds to the reading experience!

8. Small Fandom (<1000 fics): In Which Cat/Cow Is Not A Yoga Pose by @temve [E] ok, technically a crossover with The Sandman (although for pure Aldrich Kemp there's A Fishbowl, a Forklift, and a Friend: or, Who Hired Aldrich Kemp? which I read back in April, so doesn't count for the summer challenge) Temve has Aldrich's voice down to a T and her humour is so on point. I laughed out loud many times in both these fics.

9. Gift Giving: For Your Affection by @cuubism [T] short and sweet little fic by cuubism dealing with high larceny as a love language. cuubism's writing is so joyful, the playfulness she often gives to her Dream brings me great happiness and there's no exception here.

10.Enemies to friends/lovers: Tower and Rose by @moorishflower [E] Beauty and the Beast style 'au' with a magic tower, a mysterious lord, a plucky peasant Hob, an 'imprisonment', a terror stalking the grounds and many, many questions. Why are all the servants ravens? Twists and turns a plenty, and some fun eldritch sex sprinkled in.

11.Lyric Title-listen to the song, too!: please wake me/for my love lies patiently by @beatnikfreakiswriting [E] sequel to the also-having-a-song-lyric title, would you let me know...? aka fics that live rent-free in my head after having rewired my brain. Featuring the most relatable Hob ever, copious interesting facts in the author's notes, and a Dream who would have scared the shit out of me if he'd been my lecturer but is hot af and needs lots of love really. Lots of scorching smut too. Is this a theme? Obviously. Bonus that each chapter, and the series title, have song lyric titles too.

12.de-aging/kidfic England and Nowhere (Never and Always) by @dsudis [M] The last fill on my card, and one I had to search for. And I'm glad I did. I'm about 1/2 way through so don't know the resolution but a lot of it is very soft, especially Dream's relationship with the changeling toddler, Finn. Finn feels very much like a real little boy in his actions and his dialogue. I'm very much enjoying this fic.

FREE SPACE: literally anything by @tj-dragonblade fluff and smut and pure delight.

13.character study: Unsent Letters, Nameless Stranger by @rainbowvamp [M] letters from Hob to Dream throughout the centuries detailing the evolution in Hob's thoughts, attitudes and feelings towards his life, his history and mostly, his feelings for Dream (aka a lot of pining). I'm about halfway through the letters so far and am looking forward to getting back to them.

14.happy ending: My Fair Gadling by @zigzag-wanderer [E] a work in progress, so we haven't reached the happy ending yet, but I have faith in the author and this absolutely wonderful fic. Hob has such a strong narrative voice, he is a delight to read and so, so funny. I laugh out loud constantly in all of ziggy's fics, whether that's the dialogue or the hilarious analogies and metaphors. Professor Morpheus is a study in buttoned up sadness to begin with, but just wait until he's unleashed. He's unbearably sexy when he rolls his sleeves up and fixes car engines at the side of the road, and endearingly earnest in bed. I eagerly await every chapter (especially to find out what outfit Hob has shimmied into that day).

15.Secret Relationship: Risk and Reward by @signiorbenedickofpadua [E] absolutely cracking Regency au. Lord Morpheus spends a lot of time early on feeling mildly fevered. It's probably nothing to do with his new house guest, Mr Robert Gadling, right? These guys slowly, so slowly move towards Something Special. There is the ultimate thrill of finger brushing; the admiration of shapely legs and the highly charged Shakespeare reading. Also balls, duels, painting, stargazing, horse riding and misuse of biblical quotes. And I'm only half way through! The relationship is of necessity given the time period, secret. At the point I'm at, it's finally begun in earnest and I'm excited to see where the plot takes them next!

16. Angst: Exit Wounds by @valeriianz [T] There are many angst-ridden fics in this fandom, and I am a sucker for angst. I love it and seek it out. This fic by sanyumi tore my heart out, stomped all over it and then threw it in the river for good measure. Sometimes you just need to feel destroyed and this delivers.

17. Omegaverse AU So Tell Me Where To Put My Love by @seiya-starsniper [E] Another of my favourite au topics! This starts out with an unhappily arranged marriage, secrets and angst and lots of miscommunication and then explores the developing relationship between Hob and Dream; Dream getting to feel empowered; more miscommunication; knitting; Hob getting to be incredibly rude to Dream's mother, and a very happy ending. Could have tagged loads in this square. Special mentions to i have no fear of time / for who knows how my love grows? by @gabessquishytum [E] for pure horny good times most centuries; and also the incomparable Lover, Be Good to Me by @omgcinnamoncakes which I haven't actually read this summer but which hasn't left my brain. The ultimate omegaverse slowburn and healing fic. Wonderful.

18. High School/College au: Dr Hardass and Professor Sweetheart by crimandclove [G] an outsider pov look at Hob and Dream, who are both professors at the same university (and also married, of course, though the protagonist doesn't know it). And by the same author: Coincidence, [T] which is the story of how Dream and Hob met and became friends in high school. Pure nostalgia for me and Hob is such a delightful pov character to follow. Unfinished but with a full synopsis of how the story would have gone.

19. Road Trip: The Blood of Bucephalus by @llflorence [E] no actual roads, but these guys sure go on a journey. Set in ancient times, with shades of Alexander the Great. Except it's king Morpheus and his loyal soldier (and lover) Hob. Featuring Hob being mostly bewildered about what's going on and Morpheus being the most tight lipped monarch in existence. Also featuring a love for horses and Morpheus's unquenchable desire to travel incognito. Written with the same tenderness, intensity and mystery that is Lis's hallmark.

20. New author (<1 year) Coma Dreams by TheTroubleWithTribbles [M] a fic I had to actively search for but very much enjoyed reading. Some domesticity, Dream being caring, Matthew being traumatised, and Hob enjoying an extended trip to the Dreaming. Featuring some laugh out loud moments, Dream with broccoli patterned oven gloves and Hob being free with terms of endearment.

21. Crossover or fusion fic: Half Asleep, Half Waking by @softest-punk [G] again, I could have chosen fics by softestpunk to fill most of the spaces on this grid! Isn't their writing delightful? Such warmth and such range. Something for whatever you're in the mood for. Am in awe. Anyway, this is a crossover between The Sandman and Rivers of London. I didn't know the RoL books, but after reading this I listened to them on audible and came back to the fic. Very enjoyable- thanks, Cecil! Nightingale is my favourite character from RoL and I loved his relationship with Hob. And Hob gently chiding Molly and Nightingale to get their acts together, ha!

22. Superpowers/no powers Au: Here in the Darkness by @cuubism [M] Since we've got one 'super' character, and one 'normal' character in Dreamling, I chose cuubism's reverseverse fic where they've switched around. Good grief, it was good. Hope is a ray of sunshine, eh? He's just going around being lovely and offering hope, and being kind to Morpheus. And then gets captured and treated horrifically for a century. There's plenty of angst, Morpheus being snitty, then depressed, then a vengeful angel and then they get some softness. It's pure cuubism magic: it's fucking brilliant.

23. Only One Bed: The Chase by @imnotcrying-ipromise [M] I followed along with this story as it was being published early last year, and it was a wild ride of emotions and cliffhangers! Not only is there only one bed, there is a hunt across the country, a wonderful yet dangerous connection, and of course, some falling in love. It's such a fun and thrilling tale: a unique concept with a menacing villain. The sense of peril is real: for our canon characters and some lovely ocs we meet, too. And in the quieter moments there is a lot of sweetness and care between Dream and Hob. An excellent re-read this summer.

24: Soulmates: Destined by @arialerendeair [M] I love a good soulmate au, and this is a cracker by Aria. Featuring not one, but two rescues, a number of villains getting their just desserts, and visits to a Greek temple. Hob is, by turns, a bamf and a gentle, considerate man. He's spent 600 years trying to figure out what the letters of his soul mark mean, and when he does... Dream has spent countless years not even knowing he has a soul mark/mate; it takes a severance from the Dreaming to reveal it, and when he finds out...

[sereneres]

newjeans’ sunshine…z? ³

newjeans x 6th member!reader / 0.7k

summary. — newjeans has two rays of sunshines – one of them is obviously danielle, and the other one is less obviously you.

warnings. — you do not appear / hanni makes a short appearance but goes away after being bullied

“so what do you and yn-unnie have in common?”

danielle frowns, her arms crossed as she stared contemplatively at the table. “uh…”

“that’s the problem, hyein.” haerin said, sighing as she mindlessly shook her glass filled with juice as though it were filled with wine. “they don’t have much in common to begin with.”

“we do, though. we’ve both modeled as kids, we really like dogs…” danielle said, but upon noticing the somewhat sour look on haerin’s face, hastily added, “and animals in general. we both really like animals…”

“that’s not a lot to go off of though.” hyein said, also frowning. “maybe we could do something based on your looks? y’know, like how you and minji-unnie are ‘husseyz’ ‘cuz you both look like olivia hussey–”

“i still don’t see it.” haerin muttered.

“– and hanni-unnie and haerin-unnie are ‘kittyz’ because they both look like cats.” hyein continued, blatantly ignoring haerin’s interruption.

“that could work,” danielle murmured thoughtfully, “but–”

“they look nothing alike.” haerin said, crossing her arms with an exasperated look on her face. “and they both don’t look like anything in particular, so that obviously won’t work.”

the oldest of the three girls sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i never thought coming up with ship names would be this hard, but here we are, struggling to come up with–”

“i’m back!” hanni called loudly, the sound of the front door shutting closed behind her echoing throughout the dorm. “man, i’m so ready to just flop into bed and never wake up…”

“where’s minji-unnie and yn-unnie?” hyein asked, turning around in her seat to face the older girl. “didn’t they go with you?”

“they went to the convenience store.” hanni responded as she kicked her shoes off her feet and into the shoe rack carelessly, causing a pair of what looked to be your black flats to fall out. “oh, oops…”

“aren’t those yn-unnie’s?” haerin asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer to her own question. “i heard those were reaallly expensive.”

“oh f–”

“don’t worry, hanni-unnie.” danielle hastily said, cutting the girl off before she could say something she would regret. “i doubt ynnie will care too much about a scratch on her shoes.”

“they do realize i know what fuck is, right?” hyein whispered to haerin, who shrugged and continued to drink her apple juice.

“either way, none of you better say anything to her.” hanni said, pointing at each one of them and looking at them in the eyes. “especially you, haerin.”

“okay.”

“hanni-unnie, what do you think dani-unnie and yn-unnie’s ship name should be?” the youngest of the four girls asked, frowning. “we’ve been coming up with other names pretty quickly, but when it comes to yn-unnie, we always get stuck.”

“…what about ‘sunz’?” hanni suggested after a moment of silence.

“‘sunz’?” haerin repeated, tilting her head at the older girl. “why ‘sunz’?”

“‘cuz they’re both hot.” the aussie said, winking and making finger guns at the three younger girls. “get it? ‘cuz, y’know, the sun is hot?”

“…”

“…”

“…didn’t you make that joke during that one photoshoot?” hyein asked. “are you recycling your jokes now, hanni-unnie?”

“y’know what, i’m not going to stand for this lack of appreciation. i’m going to go to my room–”

“our room.” haerin corrected, prompting hanni to roll her eyes.

“i’m going to go to my room and stay there until someone who actually appreciates my jokes comes and forces me to come out.” the aussie huffed before turning around dramatically and marching to her room.

“…moving on, ‘sunz’ isn’t that bad of an idea.” hyein said enthusiastically. “think about it. dani-unnie is like the literal sun of the group and yn-unnie always cheers us up whenever we’re down!”

“‘suuuunzzzzss’…” haerin repeated, dragging the word out to the point where she was basically hissing. “no, it doesn’t sound right.”

“and ‘catnipz’ does?”

“what about ‘sunshinez’?” danielle interrupted, stopping the argument between the two younger girls before it could even begin. “that’s cute, right?”

“‘sunshinez’…” hyein murmured before nodding. “it sounds great, unnie.”

“why do we always have to add a z at the end?” haerin asked as she frowned. “why can’t it be just like… i don’t know, ‘sunshines’ with an s?”

hyein rolls her eyes. “because that’s boring?”

“…sure.”

“what do you mean, ‘sure’? i’m right!”

“sure, hyein. sure.”

“don’t just say ‘sure’!”

“sure.”

previous. / pairz. / next.

[ukranianacearo]

"Mother", a strong word

Part 2 Part 3

F!reader

Word count: almost 4k

Mention of Innocent zero's real name.

Tw: Mentions of starvation, enslavement (like what Russian empire did to Ukrainians back in 18-19th centuries), mentions of blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of birth, harrasing, and attempts at SA and I think that's all. Please, do inform me if you see more.

Pairing: romantically there's none, but reader has to marry Innocent zero.

Genre(?): angst.

Tags: @aiscreamcake (I thought you would be interested)

Author's note: This has been rotting in my brain for over a week and @fellow-anime-weeb927 post only strengthened this lol. Sorry for any mistakes, I didn't recheck it before posting and English isn't my first language. More under cut.

---------------------------------------

Escaping the empire would be dangerous and risky. But even death would be better than what you had to endure. Your nation has been occupied and enslaved by another nation for centuries already, poisoning your people's minds, destroying your culture and language and killing those who were against the system. You weren't a person. At least wasn't considered one. Your lord, the one who owned your family, was a cruel man. Not only towards you and your family, but even to his own kids and his ill wife. When times got tough even for him, you were only 5. His wife's condition worsened, she got bedridden; there even was talks about her possible death. It was the first time he tried forcing himself on you. Fortunately for you, you escaped. Times got worse with the arrival of international market. Selling got worse and so did your family's condition. Your lord paid less and less, to the point where your family starved for days, sometimes even weeks. The first to die was your youngest brother; he was only 3 years old when he died of starvation, you were 6. Two months later, your mother died. The same cause, the same ground buried her. There has started to run rumors about the lord marrying you, since his wife will die soon and he had kids to take care of. Your father had no say in it, after all, you and your family are nothing more, but his property.

You were 7, your oldest brother died at the age of 17. He too, died of starvation. After a few months, your last brother died, at the age of 16. You and your father were devastated, but you only could bury your brother next to your other two brother and your mother. One of the days, you heard your lord talking with his friends about some ships taking people to another land, to another country. But, it was really risky, you could die from any cause there; not that it mattered to you, you could never even imagine having the money to buy tickets for you and your father. So you just continued working. A year passed, then another and now you're 9. One of the evenings, your father didn't come back and you started worrying. You had nowhere to go and seek him, but the lord's house. When you arrived at the door of the house, it was open and you could see your father and the lord talking about something. While trying to focus on what they were saying, you leaned slightly against the door, making sure it didn't move nor made any sound. It was muffled, but you could understand that they were discussing your marriage with the lord. Your father tried to reason that you were just too young for the lord, you only 9, after all. But the lord didn't care.

That day, you lost your father and killed your lord. That day was also the second time your lord trying to force himself on you.

You buried your father next to the graves of your family members the best you could. It was the middle of the night and lord's kids were sleeping in their respective homes, since most of them were old enough to have it. Not caring about lord's dead corpse laying on the floor of his house, you took the money there was; you didn't know how much a ticket to the other country would cost, but even if you had more than needed, it was better to have more than less.

...

The travel wasn't pleasant at all, but you finally was here. Most people at the port called it The Magic Empire. You didn't know if it was because there was actually magic and people could use it without being punished or if it was because people's dreams and wishes would be satisfied. Noticing that many people had some lines on their faces, you didn't want to stick out so you decided to use your necklace. Clenching it in your hand you increased the zone affected by it. Feeling their magic power being stored in the necklace, you changed the course and way of the magic in the necklace to create an illusion of a mark similar to the people around you. As you put the hood of medieval cloak on your head, you start going in the city; the cloak covering your figure completely, hiding the broken clothes you wore; a pair of pants and a T-shirt.

...

In the past 5 months you lived in the Magic Realm, as people from here called it. You were fortunate enough to know the language that people speak here, since you learned it from a dictionary someone threw out while you were still living in your home country. But, life was still challenging, of course. Although, 'challenging' would be an underrating. This realm worked such as higher your magic power - higher your status. So, you had to lie, to live a lie; you didn't have your own magic, you only could use or manipulate magic that you 'stole' with the necklaces. If you stole it by defeating a person, that person's magic was copied by one of the necklaces, and if you 'stole' it by just increasing the area that was under the necklaces' cancellation of magic, you could use a person's magic for as long as they were in the area + a certain amount of time after they were out. In these past month you have worked as anything you could: cleaning people's shoes, selling newspaper, running errands for people, etc... You did your best and most of the errands were done perfectly, and your employers were satisfied with your work, paying you a bonus every now and then. You tried to save as much as possible while still eating something at least once a day. Your plan was to go to a middle magic school, but to do so you would need to deceive many people and even the government, so that they could think that you had actually alive parents, at least. For that, you would need to defeat someone who possessed a mind controlling power and you only had three years to do so: that's when middle school start.

...

It was easier than you thought. That boy really thought he could use you as a punching bag, but ironically, he was the one laying on the cold and dusty ground. Now, you're one step closer to succeeding.

...

This mind controlling magic was actually something. You carefully created a well written story for your play, the realm your stage and everyone the audience. The school you wanted to go accepted you, just like you planned. And thus, the played started.

...

No one has suspected a thing. Which feels kind of weird. But you decide to continue the show, there's nothing else to do.

...

The middle school was good, it had bedrooms for every pair of students, a kitchen and many more things. Just a perfect entrance of a grand show.

...

Few years past by, and it's time to decide the academy where you'll go. There were three options, the ones that will appreciate the show. Easton Magic Academy, Walkis Magic Academy and Saint Ars Holy Magic Academy; in Saint Ars, rules are most important thing and rule breakers are punished harshly. Definitely not for you: you would be considered a criminal at this point. Walkis focused only on strength which is also not the best, tho this academy produced the most divine visionaries at this point. So, you're left with Easton Magic academy.

...

The entrance exam was pretty easy. After that you were assigned to the Orca dorm. Not bad. You can work with this.

...

Eyes. No matter where you went, they followed you, like the hunting past. Were you in class, in the kitchen, training or even in the deep past, you remember eyes following you like a predator. When you were in middle magic academy, you didn't have time to ponder about it at all. Nor when you were doing errands for someone to earn extra money. Sometimes, when you tried to look at the one who was the person with such intense curiosity, you only saw white hair of a passerby, who you guessed was your classmate. Trying to follow that person was impossible, it's like they disappeared the moment you approached the place where magic lingered the most. It haunted you. You had a guess who it was, but with no evidence, you could do nothing, but try to be careful around that person. Cyril Marcus. He was the only one who had those long white locks. And his magic... Rather he used basic spells or his personal time magic or even if he didn't use any at all, you could always sense that difference between his magic and the magic of other people. When a person's potential is great in terms of magic, you can sense their magic differently. But this scared you very much. Even if you knew that your necklaces worked on him as well, you were scared. Better treat a gun as a loaded gun and not as a non loaded one. He seemed much eager to fight against you in the tournament for divine visionaries' candidates.

...

Your fight against him just ended. You won. After all, he was nothing without his magic. But, in your opinion, he was more testing you than fighting you. Right now, it was break time before continuing with the tournament. As you sat on one of the couches in the room, you clenched the necklace in your hand. The other three core necklaces were still deep inside your skin, in the same spot, even after all these years. The square body of the necklaces had some difficult artistic style. You still couldn't figure out which one exactly, but it resembled the baroque style very much. The black hook that was on one of the edges of every body wasn't as delicate as it seemed, just like the black chain that went through it, embracing your neck loosely.

-"You seemed so brave out there, but look at you now." - You snapped your head towards him, the look of shock on your face making him chuckle. His mocking tone didn't help, as it made you more uncomfortable. But you were used to the feeling, so you didn't let it show just like always. - "Don't look at me like that, it makes me think that you didn't expect me." - Deciding to play safe you calmed down your expression to a neutral one and let go of the necklace.

- "What do you want?" - There was no need for chit chat, especially between you two. You two weren't on bad terms exactly, but you weren't friends either. Still, your suspicion about him being the person who stalks you was present on your mind.

- "You're so straightforward, as always."

- "It's better to save the time and energy used to talk about nothing." - As you crossed you arms across your chest while Cyril smiled in that typical sly smile, although to you, it looked more like a smirk.

- "This...show that you play in front of everyone is quite the spectacle. I must admit, it took me a while to see the truth."

- "What are you talking about?" - In this type of situations it's better to play dumb. You couldn't afford for the show to end just yet. It would be a fiasco. Anyway, how did he figure it out? Has he been stalking you for so long just because of that? You made sure he couldn't see your thoughts on your face.

- "Don't play dumb. We both know what I'm talking about. At first I thought you were just a 'Disgraceful Mage', just to find out later that you are magicless. I must admit, your cover is good enough to make me think about you and your magic for quite the years. This fight in particular has confirmed my suspicion. Your necklace isn't just an accessory, am I right?" - His words froze you as he pointed at your necklace. The situation got to the point where you couldn't just deny your way out.

- "It would have been better if you continued thinking that I was a 'Disgraceful Mage'..." - You mumbled, making Cyril look at you with a curious smirk. - "What do you want from me? You wouldn't be here just to talk with me, would you?" - You tried to stay calm, but it was the first time someone saw past your costume. Instead of the character in the play, he saw the actor. You already realized why he was going in circles while fighting. He was out of the zone affected by the necklace, so he still could see magic power. Truly, that potential you saw in him would be enough to end your show.

- "Don't worry that much, I wouldn't want for the show to end just yet. After all, you could call me the most loyal fan of your spectacle. Who else would sit and watch it, while seeing your true form and not the character's?" - It was as is he read your thoughts with magic, although it was impossible, your necklace still worked around you. - "I don't mind your magicless nature, but what about others?" - He slowly walked closer and sat on the couch in front of you - "I'm sure you know they wouldn't accept you if they knew, otherwise you wouldn't be putting this good of a performance. How convenient that I have just the offer for you, wouldn't you say so? You see, I plan on becoming the perfect human, but for that I need to find more knowledge and strong allies."

- "What do I have to do with all of that?" - The palms of your hands have started sweating, but you still somehow managed to act calm enough. Hearing your words, Cyril smirked slyly and put his leg on the other.

- "We both know that magic users tend to rely very much on magic - myself included - and you're someone who shifts their situation a lot with just a lift of your hand. Or even without it. As years went on, you taught yourself to manipulate that necklace very well. When the time will come, I want you to join my association and plan. Of course, I, on my end, will make sure the government won't get you." - It was tempting, but the actor can't just disappear from the stage, it wouldn't be fair. You clenched your left wrist with your hand as you looked at him a bit troubled, trying to stay calm. Seeing your hesitation, Cyril chucked. - "Don't worry. I will give you time to think about it. But when I'll come for an answer, I hope you'll have it." - He said as he got up, walking towards the door in his usual slow and elegant way. You wanted to answer, say at least something. But it felt as if the words got stuck in your throat, sinking in your stomach, leaving you alone with your thoughts haunting you, trying to come up with something, anything. - "So long, dear actress." - He left the room as the voice of a commentator announced the break time over. You were left alone, looking at the floor while your thoughts got to you. How could you afford such a mistake? Your performance was supposed to be perfect, without even the slightest flaw. Clenching the necklace you tried not to let emotions get the best of you. Even if there was a break between the acts, the actor shouldn't forgot that they're an actor. People are supposed to only see the character that they portrait, not the person behind it. One person in the audience saw the actor as they are, but that shouldn't matter. Especially when the person continues to watch the show peacefully.

...

- "Tell me, Cell war," - You started while watching your 'son' in the tank, or better say, in an incubator. Cell war, who was a creation of Innocent zero, turned to look at you patiently, waiting for you to continue. In the past years, Cyril Innocent zero really weird choice of name got to know that for achieving his goal to become "The Perfect Human", he needed six hearts of blood related family. That's how you got to this scene of the show. The audience changed, but the actor and that one specific person stayed the same people, probably. He mixed his DNA with your to create a life. You promised yourself that no matter what, your 'sons' won't live as bad or even worse than you; you would not allowe it as long as you breathe. - "How do you feel about his plan?"

- "If it's something 'father' wants, then it should be done."

...

- "You shouldn't be up this late." - You said in a scolding voice while standing behind the four young boys that stood outside your bedroom door.

- "Mother!" - They four said in unison, as they turned around to look at you. Fanim and Delisaster immediately went to hug you by your legs, since they didn't reach any higher yet, while Doom and Epidem stood by your sides taking your hands in theirs. They all seemed very exited and happy to see you again.

- "We wanted to see you the day you came back from this mission, so we stayed up." - Doom explained in a shy manner. You patted their heads as you hummed, giving a sign of acknowledgement.

- "That's very sweet of you, boys. But you shouldn't lose sleep just because of me. Sleep is fundamental for your health." - You answered in a caring voice, you truly couldn't be angry at them for long. Hearing your words, they looked between each other and then all looked at you.

- "But, mother is also very important for our health." - Delisaster started.

- "You train and play with us." - Doom continued.

- "You don't get angry at us for the slightest mistake and explain everything that we ask you to." - then Fanim continued.

- "And you give us all kinds of sweets." - Epidem finished. You were shocked. All of them were still so young, but understood so much. It wasn't uncommon in your experience, many kids you knew from the streets when you were younger had to grow up too soon - yourself included. But these four boys didn't live that life. Your best guess was that they were so aware of everything because of Innocent zero, their father. You smiled softly at them as you hugged them all.

- "What would I do without you guys, hm?" - They basked in your attention. - "But you gotta go to sleep now, it's already late." - Hearing that they whined in unison, but obeyed and you guided them to their rooms.

...

- "Did you see mother?" - Delisaster asked Doom, as the later was sharpening his sword. The former couldn't find you for a while now and he really wanted to show you one his new tricks with his pole arms.

- "Did you not know yet? She fell into a coma." - Doom tried to act as calm as possible, but in reality he was devastated. The fact that you just fainted out of nowhere wasn't positive at all, especially for the sons. There was no logical explanation for this and no one could figure it out. The ones who were probably affected the least were Domina and Mash, who were still too young to understand it. The room fell into silence's embrace as Delisaster tried to process the devastating information he just learned.

...

- "Domina, you should be useful. That's what mother and I would want. You understand, right?" - His sly tone of voice echoed in the small dark room that could barely be called a bedroom. He stood in front of Domina, looking at the small boy from his height. - "We must do it so that mother can wake up. Do you want her to wake up? Domina."

- "Yes, father." - The small boy looked pitiful. His pink-ish hair was cut just above his shoulders with bangs covering his eyebrows. He was just around 5 years old, yet he seemed as if he didn't eat enough. Domina's was determined to do anything to help his mother regain consciousness and make his father proud. What he didn't understand was that, he shouldn't be the one to fight for it.

...

- "I see you still don't understand, Mash Burndead. If you continue to fight against it, mother won't wake up." - Doom said as he blocked one of Mash's punches.

- "I don't know that mother much, but I'm sure that destroying the world won't help wake her up." - Mash answered in a usual monotone voice as he punched Doom in the abdomen.

...

- "Who is she?" - asked a tall man with white hair and a big sword at his hip.

- "She was retrieved from the castle. Supposedly Innocent zero mixted his DNA with hers to create the six sons. Her name is [Y/N] [L/N]. She studied in Easton Magic Academy back in the days alongside me and Innocent zero. Was reported missing by some acquaintances after graduation. Later on was discovered that she lied to the government, a lot." - Another tall and old man with grey hair answered.

- "So she's also Mash's biological mother... I wonder why she joined Innocent zero in his plan." - The tall man with the sword murmured.

- "I'm sure Innocent zero had some cards in his sleeves to play to manipulate her. She wouldn't go for such length just because of someone else's desires. Especially Innocent zero's, she couldn't care less about the man."

- "Maybe she was in love with him." - The tall man with the sword suggested turning his head slightly to look at the old man. Right after the man finished his sentence, the old one started laughing; when he finished laughing he sighed and started talking.

- "That's impossible, Kaldo. Not even love potions could make her feel something so deep. She herself said that she was unable to feel such love since birth; her brain lacked in that part. I guess she had a secret that the world shouldn't know and Innocent zero knew it."

- "Like what?" - the curiosity got the better out of the man with the sword.

- "Hmm, I don't know. We should ask her after she wakes up. For now, call Mash; I wanna talk with him." - The man with the sword bowed and walked out of the door, while the old man continued looking at the woman in the nurse bed. - "Mother, such a strong word, huh..."

----------------------------------------------------------

And that's it :D I hope you enjoyed this fanfic. If you want to be added into the tag list, please comment.

[leclerc-s]

paint the town red - bonus part

series masterlist

EPISODE 10 - AN UNEXPECTED PURCHASE

charles stands with max, before their final press conference of the season, when lance approaches them. he greets both of them before turning to charles, "what happened? twitter is losing it's mind."

charles laughs, max also looks visibly confused, "oh mate, the craziest thing happened."

"STARK!" lando is heard shouting before he appears in the camera's view. he crashes into charles, gripping his shoulders, "TONY FUCKING STARK JUST BOUGHT THE TEAM?"

"what?" max questioned, "who bought what team? and what are you doing here, you're supposed to be in the media pen?"

"TONY STARK JUST BOUGHT FERRARI MAX!"

"oh," lance said, "that's why twitter is losing it."

"losing it?" lando questioned, "twitter is in shambles lance. it's not everyday a fucking avenger buys an f1 team."

"correct me if i'm wrong," daniel says, approaching the group, "but didn't tony stark get attacked at the monaco grand prix ages ago?

"you should ask fernando about that," charles told lance. the canadian looked confused before realization hit him, "right, fernando's been driving as long as oscar's been alive."

"we are completely and utterly fucked if tony stark just bought ferrari. you think the red bull dominance was bad, ferrari is about to completely annihilate us," lando complained.

daniel laughed, "well, i'm sure you guys will enjoy fighting for that p3. my tractor and i will enjoy fighting for points."

will buxton sits in front of the camera, "there's not many times when the world of formula one falls silent. in 1994, it fell silent to mourn the death of ayrton senna, then again in 2014 to mourn jules bianchi. zhou's nearly fatal crash and romain's near death experience rendered it silent for a moment before it all went back to normal. but this, this is one of those moments where it all falls silent before exploding. no one saw this coming, that's how unexpected this was. we never thought we'd hear the news that a billionaire had purchased the oldest standing team in formula one. let alone an avenger."

we now see christian horner in front of the camera, “i think i’m more so upset about the fact that ferrari will now be able to steal the championship from us. if there’s one thing i know about tony stark is that he is one competitive son of a bitch. there will be no more half-assed pit stops and strategies from ferrari, that you can count on. and with his daughter as one of the race engineers and a lead engineer, that car is going to be a rocket ship. it just means the rest of us will have up our game.”

toto wolff sits in front of the camera, replacing christian horner, “this is not the first time someone has purchased a formula one team. i do not know why they are acting like this is a first. yes, ferrari will be difficult to beat next year. they will know what they are doing, but we will not give up without a fight. next year will be an interesting year for us all.”

in front of the camera now sits tony stark, his signature blue tinted glasses sit on his face. he smiles at someone off camera, before turning to the producer, "need me to take off the glasses?"

"if you would," the producer answered, "name and title please."

tony looks at the camera, "my name is tony stark and i am the new owner of scuderia ferrari's formula one team. oh! and i am iron man!"

"mr. stark, what led you to purchase the team?"

tony clears his throat, "my mother was italian and a big tifosi, she bled rosso corsa proudly. she never got the opportunity to see michael schumacher lead the team to the greatness he did. i kept up with the team in her memory, and in recent years the team hadn't been performing as well as a fan would've liked. i knew the current drivers, charles and carlos, were championship material. that much was obvious to me when sainz became the only non red bull driver to win a race in the 2023 season. for leclerc, well, there's a reason they call him il predestinato right? he won monza his maiden year with ferrari, that alone put him into the tifosi's good books. speaking of, i knew they were furious and after austin, i knew something had to be done. and if nobody else was going to do it, i was, so i bought the team."

"how confident are you that you can restore ferrari's old glory?"

"i trust my drivers and i trust my team, i think that says enough."

in front of the camera now sits an old face. sebastian vettel smiles brightly at the producer. the last time they had seen him he was in a green shirt and he looked tired, but the time away did him some good. he's happier now and back in ferrari red, back where he had started when the show first began.

"did you ever think you'd be back here?" the producer asked him. sebastian smiled, "honestly, no. i had left this all behind and i told myself i was never going to return to this sport. but when an opportunity like this comes around, you don't say no."

"are you happy with this new position or would prefer to be back in the car?"

"i'm happy with my job now."

“do you think you can help restore ferrari to its old glory?”

“yes,” sebastian quickly answers, “in the past ferrari had been stuck dwelling too much on its history. being stuck in the past for so long leads to no results. it leads to people demanding your first driver leave the team after constantly getting screwed over. we want the championship back in maranello and we will take it back. next year ferrari will put up one hell of a fight.”

“you’ve got a great team mr. vettel.”

“i know, i don’t plan on wasting it.”

charles smiles brightly at the camera, “hello.”

“hi charles,” the producer replies, “do you mind telling us what your first thought were when you heard the team had been bought? how did you find out?”

“i found out on twitter along with everyone else,” charles replied, “my first reaction was to text carlos to see if he knew, he was just as shocked as i was. no one had informed us the team had been bought much less who it had been bought by.”

“and how did you find out the team had been bought by tony stark?”

“when there was an emergency meeting called at maranello right before abu ahabi. carlos and i walked in to the factory and it felt like a different environment, people were excited and whispering to each other. you can imagine our surprise when we walked in to that meeting to see seb sitting with tony stark of all people.”

“i imagine it was a big shock?”

“yes,” charles answered, “mr. stark explained to us what he had done and told us that we should be expecting a whole new team when we arrived back from the final race of the season. it is exciting to know that things are changing.”

"is change a good thing?"

"in this case, it is. things needed to change if ferrari wants to be a championship contender once again. and this will be good for my friendship with carlos."

"are things strained between you two?"

"the truth? yes," charles replied, "it is difficult to go online and see people saying that you don't deserve your seat or that your teammate is better simply because he won a race when you haven't been able to do that this season. it places a sort of- tension? is that the word?" he looks at someone off camera, the person must nod because he turns to face the camera again, "carlos and i are good drivers, there is a reason we are formula one drivers. but the team, it has- it pit us against each other, that was what strained our friendship."

"what are your wishes for this upcoming season?"

"to win the championship." charles laughs.

carlos looks at someone off camera, nodding at whatever they're saying, before turning to look at the producer, "hello," carlos greeted.

"hello carlos," the producer greeted, "can you tell us what your initial reaction was to learning the team had been bought?"

"i was shocked, i did not think it was possible for someone to buy the team, it's ferrari. but i also felt a bit relieved? i hope maybe things will change and we can have a decent shot at the championship."

"relieved? i don't think i've heard that one yet."

carlos chuckled, "my friendship with charles was strained after this season. i hope that with mr. stark as an owner we are able to put aside our work and our friendship to achieve the goal we have in common. to bring the championship back to ferrari."

"is it difficult to separate work and life off the track?"

"sometimes, yes. after singapore was when our friendship truly hit rock bottom. i think it was difficult for us to accept that only one of us was the 1st driver. everyone knows that it's charles, it has been since 2021, but i think after a while it was difficult for me to accept that. he's- charles is loved by the tifosi, he's loved by everyone because he's charles leclerc. sometimes it is difficult to be his teammate knowing people will always see me as second best."

"i see."

"i love the kid, trust me, i do. i value his friendship very much, but sometimes it is difficult. with stark as the owner, and sebastian as the new team principal, i am hoping things will change. even if charles is still first driver, i hope i am not treated as second best by my own team. sometimes change is good, this time i think it is."

"what are your wishes for this upcoming season?"

"to win the championship." carlos answers.

will buxton is in front of the camera once again, "it will certainly be entertaining to see what ferrari manage to do next season. the lingering question that remains is, will the starks live up to the hype surrounding this purchase? i guess we'll just have to wait and see."

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strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! once again, merry christmas to those of you celebrate and a very wonderfully normal day to those of you who don't. either way, my gift to you is this bonus episode for paint the town red, i hope you enjoyed it. it is a pain figuring out how to write netflix style, it's over 1.7k words, although it may not look like it.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!