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vettelsvee · 18 days

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FIRST VICTORY (PART 1) | Sebastian Vettel

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summary: sebastian gets his first pole position, while diana realizes that perhaps the world of motorsport she had idealized was not as wonderful as she had imagined. except for seb, of course, who was the one who, in part, made her continue in formula 1.

word count: 7060

warnings: curse words, bad language, mentions and act of sexism. mentions of sickness and medical terms. seb and di getting closer. just nico rosberg doing nico rosberg things (friendly reminder that whatever you read here is fiction, and nothing that happens here or how characters act is real)

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable @vincentvanshoe] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

¡! you can read the fanfic as diana or y/n, but the faceclaim will always be my girl emma stone :)

feedback is truly appreciated!

2008

Italian Grand Prix Autodromo Nazionale Monza

September 11 th Thursday

Monza had not welcomed them as they had hoped.

The sun had barely risen on that Thursday, marking the beginning of the Italian Grand Prix, hiding behind multiple dark gray clouds loaded with water that threatened to unleash upon the circuit at the most unexpected moment.

Diana, with her umbrella in one hand, backpack hanging from her back, and her accreditation hanging from her neck, entered the paddock with a downcast look. She had been with the Toro Rosso team for six months already, and although she knew she was living her dream of being part of the sport she loved so much and was aware from the moment she set foot in that world that it wouldn't be a bed of roses, nothing was turning out as she had initially imagined.

The first three or four Grand Prix had gone well, and they had even strengthened her bond with Sebastian due to his DNF situations. However, as the weeks passed and, with them, the months, everything started to go downhill. While initially the team seemed happy to have a girl among them, derogatory comments, an abundance of sexist jokes, and daily attitudes of the same kind became Wagner's burden. She couldn't help but feel undervalued and, above all, useless.

"I'm sure that when Diana gets promoted and becomes my engineer everyone will want her," Vettel said on one occasion when he heard a sexual proposition from one of his mechanics to another. "Trust me, Diana Wagner is going to win championships with me."

No matter how much the dyed-blonde had tried to prevent Seb from defending her to avoid drawing more attention, he didn't mind; on the contrary, he did it willingly.

"I have four amazing women in my life, and I wouldn't want them to be treated like that," the driver explained, showing a photo of his sisters and mother. "Despite being a ladies' man I know there are limits, and respect is above everything for me."

That didn't help at all as Diana ended up being relegated to minor, unimportant tasks. Suddenly, she found herself going back and forth in the paddock carrying coffees, preparing some meals and running errands for anyone, as if her only function was to be a decoration. She didn't know, but she was sure she had worked too hard to show that she deserved that opportunity more than anyone else who had applied for the scholarship. And not only that: she also tried to gain the trust and, especially, the respect of Toro Rosso members, although it seemed to have worked only with the blue-eyed blonde.

Despite proving her worth in every free practice, qualifying and race, and regardless of learning a little more every day, her senior engineer completely ignored her.

As she crossed paths with people on her way to the team's box, she reminded herself that she had arrived there on her own merits; that she had worked for years and that, if this moment was not the right one for her to shine, she would do so in the future. Patience, and especially attitude, along with luck, were the keys to success, and her father had ingrained it in her over her twenty years of life.

A group of Ferrari engineers accompanied by Felipe Massa passed by her arguing heatedly about possible strategies for Sunday's race and some configuration for the race car. As they almost always mistook her for a grid girl, Diana always took advantage of that. This time was no exception. Carefully, she began to follow them, pretending to attend a phone call to listen to as much of the conversation as possible and mentally note everything they said down. Sebastian's performance had improved since the race in Monaco thanks to some contributions she had made to Alex, the driver's engineer, who obviously took credit for it. She knew that no matter how much information she shared, it would not be acknowledged as her own, but the fact that she could help secure at least a podium for Vettel was all that mattered to her.

"Now, apart from being an aspiring intern, are you also a spy?"

Nico's voice made her come to a sudden halt, realizing she had been caught. A blush started to spread across her cheeks, accompanied by an unpleasant nervousness in her stomach.

"I was just snooping around a bit," the girl explained, growing more nervous as she saw the blonde approaching her. "I wanted to find out what's being discussed around here, that's all."

"About Ferrari's strategies, am I right?"

Diana didn't say anything, confirming Rosberg's assumption.

"That's what I like most about you, that you're determined."

"But you've barely seen me," Diana responded a bit curtly. "I just want to learn from the best to be the best, and I would do anything for it," she commented sincerely.

"Would you come with me now for a coffee?"

The young woman began to feel a shiver running down her spine, feeling uncomfortable with the German's suggestion. Every time she had had a chance to talk to the driver it had been in the same way. That had only made him gradually gain more confidence with her, and the hints became more and more direct.

"Thanks for the invitation, but I'm more of a tea girl," the girl said ironically, trying to maintain composure. "Besides, I don't know if you know, but I came to work and prove my worth, not to boost anyone's ego."

Before the Williams driver could reply, a familiar voice joined the conversation. Sometimes, Sebastian Vettel seemed like Spider-Man and appeared just when the Austrian needed him most.

"What are my eyes seeing? Nico Rosberg flirting, again, with our amazing intern?" he questioned, wrapping his arms around Diana. "Come on, lower yourself to that... I didn't expect that from you, Rosberg."

"I was just being friendly with her," the other guy tried to pretend with a smile. "Right, Di?"

Diana nodded, agreeing with him even though she knew it wasn't true. Vettel noticed how the girl's body tensed a bit due to discomfort, something that bothered him a little.

"Di?" Seb replied. "Now you're close to her?"

"Sebastian," she said, interrupting him because she was aware that if she didn't, things would escalate. "I just wanted to go for coffee, really, but I don't feel like it because I have work to do," she approached him, placing her hand on his chest, and said something in a low voice. "There's no need to make a scene."

Sebastian took a deep breath and calmed down a bit. He didn't like the intentions that many guys had with what he considered his friend, and Rosberg was no exception. He had heard many insinuations with that girl coming from many mouths, and every time someone said something he wanted to start a fight no matter how much he tried to control himself.

"Well, Nico, why don't you let Di and I go back to our garage? We need to discuss some private matters."

Nico accepted, with a mocking smile on his lips.

"Of course, I wouldn't want to interrupt whatever private thing you're going to do."

"Don't make things up, you bastard!" Wagner shouted at him as Rosberg winked at them and began to walk away briskly.

The girl thanked Sebastian mentally. Sometimes Nico could be not just a little but too heavy. It's not that she found him ugly, far from it, but she liked to get to know people before throwing herself into their arms and acting as if they had known each other their whole lives.

"Thanks for that, Seb, but I had it all under control," Diana thanked.

"Sure," the driver replied nonchalantly. "Rosberg can be a bit... let's say persistent," he explained as they walked, seemingly aimlessly. "But that doesn't mean he's not a good guy!"

"I haven't said otherwise."

Vettel stopped and looked at the girl. He barely knew her, and although it was true that in the last few weekends they had become closer, he still didn't have enough confidence to talk about certain topics...

She wasn't his close friend.

Even so, there was something she didn't know about her, but that attracted him immensely.

"Do you like Nico?" he asked without hesitation.

"What? No!" Diana shouted, attracting the attention of those around them. "How could I like him? All he does is ask me out, come up to me every time he sees me alone and invite me to his room in the Williams box! I don't want to hook up with him or whatever he has in mind!"

Sebastian started to mock her. Despite being a good girl, sometimes she seemed so innocent that it made the German feel sorry for her. He decided not to continue the conversation because he knew his temper was strong enough to tell him to fuck off.

"Will you join me for the press conference? It's in like half an hour," he commented, looking at his wristwatch.

"I thought Alex needed me to talk to him or something," the girl deflected the proposal. "Anyway, I can't even get in. I'm not a journalist."

"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to pretend to be one."

Diana didn't have time to accept the invitation as the German had already gently taken her by the wrist and started walking briskly towards the room where the press conference would be held.

As soon as they arrived and entered, still holding hands and attracting some curious looks, the Austrian was amazed at the immense proportions of the place. From the outside, it seemed much smaller, but she had before her a spacious and well-lit room, with a long table and five chairs arranged on a platform in the center, where Diana supposed the drivers would sit. Behind it was the Formula 1 logo, followed by a Monza Grand Prix 2008 sign.

The driver and the intern continued walking together, still admiring the last completely stunned at the journalists, cameras and other professionals from around the world present.

"Sit wherever you want, newbie," Vettel pointed to the seats where some reporters were already sitting. "I have to pretend that I love answering questions, and you have to pretend you're the best journalist in the room. Let's get to work and then I'll invite you to whatever you want, okay?"

They both parted with a smile. Wagner proceeded to settle in one of the back rows so as not to attract too much attention. She greeted people around her with a fake smile, trying not to let them discover that she was just an intern that no one wanted.

She watched as the drivers who would attend the press, besides Seb, took their respective seats. Kimi Räikkönen appeared with a serious face, something normal for him; Fernando Alonso exuded confidence, and Lewis Hamilton was relaxed, although alert to what they might ask him: it was only his second year competing, and he had already become one of the candidates to be the world champion of the season.

Vettel, as he seemed to do in any situation, was making jokes and chatting very animatedly with some reporters, receiving reprimands from what the intern knew as his public relations, Britta Roeske.

The event's moderator introduced himself, starting the press conference. Despite already knowing them, he presented each of the drivers present, mentioning their team and asking some unimportant questions.

Sebastian, who was the last in line, seemed visibly bored and acted as such, despite the multiple glances Roeske was sending him from her seat, until it was his turn.

"Now let's move on to one of the youngest on the grid: Sebastian, what do you expect from this weekend?" the curious presenter asked. "And, most importantly, are you worried about the rain?"

The young man regained his composure and approached the microphone.

"I have no expectations: I just want to do my best and not die of boredom until I get my first victory," he commented with his characteristic humor. "Regarding the rain, it's like a surprise visit from your mother-in-law, you know? It can show up at any time, hurt you a lot, and even be uncomfortable and challenging, but you can't deny that it adds excitement," the guy got a bit more serious. "Jokes aside, I think all of us would prefer it to be dry and sunny on Sunday, but rain is also part of the show, and if it comes, I'll welcome it with open arms."

The man, after thanking Sebastian with a look, turned to the audience and opened a brief round of questions to the journalists. Surprisingly, almost all of them were directed at Sebastian, who had become a sensation after his announcement as Mark Webber's future teammate at Red Bull Racing next season.

It was normal for everyone to want to know more about that guy from Heppenheim who showed promise.

"Sebastian, do you think you could outperform any of the Ferraris and achieve a good result for Toro Rosso?"

"I don't know, it could be. What do you think, Kimi?" he laughed, looking at the Finn with humor. "Ferrari is incredible, and Monza is one of their homes. I'm here to compete and try to do my best, so I'll strive for that."

Vettel nodded slightly, thanking in a whisper and giving the floor to a blonde reporter, with light eyes, whose name he thought he remembered being Sally.

"Vettel, next year you'll join Red Bull Racing. Anything you can tell us?"

"The best is yet to come," he replied, winking at her. "I hope to see you then. You know I'm always ready to answer your questions, Sal."

The questions continued, and they were even directed at the other three men accompanying Seb. Some were more technical, and others focused on the driver's mentality or the team's strategies, but that didn't prevent Wagner from getting bored. Throughout the forty-five minutes it lasted, she paid attention and took notes in a notebook she always carried with her because any information, no matter how minimal It was, would help her learn more about that extensive sport. Being there was a privilege she never thought of, so she couldn't waste anything because she didn't know when she would have the chance again.

Time passed faster than she initially thought. When the one who had directed the whole event, named Carlo, declared the session over, Diana remained somewhat mesmerized watching the journalists and photographers begin to gather their belongings and leave the press room, in an orderly manner for security reasons. She thought about staying a little longer, but she ended up succumbing to the pressure, getting up and heading towards the exit while keeping her gaze on Sebastian, who was saying goodbye to his colleagues.

Diana decided to wait for the driver at the entrance, but seeing that everyone, except him, had left, she went to the Toro Rosso box hoping he would be waiting for her there. The girl didn't know what to expect from the blonde, but being stood up after waiting for an hour and a half wasn't among her possibilities.

Although she didn't expect much from the German either. [...]

September 13th Saturday

Even though the pain Diana felt in her stomach was still quite noticeable, she had to put on a brave face and act as if everything was perfectly fine. She knew there were sick leave allowances even for interns, but the girl didn't want nor could she afford to risk losing it all over a simple stomachache.

The day before, Friday, she didn't take part in the two free practice sessions because a noticeable discomfort in her stomach began to manifest in the early hours. Initially, she attributed it to the disappointment she had felt after being stood up by the German; when vomiting started and diarrhea set in, she didn't hesitate to go down to the hotel lobby, ask for the nearest hospital, and call a taxi.

"I'm afraid to say that it might be gastroenteritis, Miss Wagner," the emergency room doctor informed her after running some tests. "Refrain from your work for a few days and stick to a bland diet."

The cake that Amelie had made for her birthday and that her father had insisted on keeping in the refrigerator for five days, despite being quite poorly made, seemed to be the culprit of her indigestion.

There was barely half an hour left for the qualifying session to begin. Quickly, she passed her accreditation through the scanner as fast as she could, holding onto her belongings tightly, and ran to the Toro Rosso garage as fast as she could, trying to stave off the urge to vomit. She had a terrible night, battling constant stabbing pains and nausea, making her feel like a pregnant woman. If it hadn't been for a pill that had been prescribed to her after insisting a lot, her diarrhea would probably still be continuing at that moment. She clenched her teeth tightly to avoid vomiting right there, and she was grateful that it was raining because her umbrella made her less noticeable.

The moment she saw her workspace, she hurried even more, closing the umbrella and placing it in a stand at the entrance. The looks were already starting to intimidate her, but she didn't feel panic until she reached the area where Alex, Seb's track engineer and, let's say... her boss was.

"Where the hell were you yesterday, Wagner?"

Fiori quickly took off his headphones, leaving them around his neck, and turned to look at Diana sternly. His expression showed a mix of anger and annoyance, and the girl knew that nothing good was coming because this forty-year-old was not particularly known for his empathy and kindness.

"I informed a public relations girl you have around here, I think her name is Martha or something like that," the girl explained, trying to justify herself, "and I also brought the medical certificate. I've had gastroenteritis since Friday morning, and I went to the emergency room. The doctor advised me to take a few days off, but I decided to come today."

The man reluctantly took the paper and examined it thoroughly, looking for any sign that this information might be false. He couldn't believe that a young girl was there; let alone, that he had to endure her.

Although what Alex Fiori hated most about her was that Sebastian praised her so much.

"Are you feeling better now?" the Italian inquired, still absorbed in the medical lines.

"Yes, a little, thank you," the blonde sincerely thanked. "Really, Mr. Fiori, I'm so sorry I couldn't attend yesterday, and I'm even more sorry they didn't inform you. I didn't have anyone else's contact."

The man took the paper grudgingly and examined it thoroughly, looking for any reflection that this information might be false. He couldn't believe that a girl was there; let alone that he had to endure her.

"Let's hope you don't miss again for nonsense like this," he replied indifferently, tearing the paper aggressively. "I need you to be here and fulfill your responsibilities. That's why we tolerate you and pay you every month."

Diana just nodded, threatening tears to escape from her eyes.

"Of course," the girl tried to declare. "I promise I won't miss a day again, Mr. Fiori."

"Don't make promises you won't keep, Wagner," he bluntly replied as he headed towards Vettel. "Now just sit down and stay quiet during qualifying. I don't want to hear you."

The girl felt a knot forming in her throat as she watched her boss approach her pilot. She tried to maintain composure, but it was impossible: she shed a tear easily and wiped them away as quickly as she could to avoid drawing even more attention. She felt frustrated and powerless because she couldn't defend herself or express what she felt in those moments.

She did what his engineer instructed him. She grabbed her headphones, sat a bit farther away than usual, and started watching Q1 on the screen in front of him. It had only been about five minutes, and Alex's comments to Vettel were already resonating in his ears.

"Come on, Seb, you have to try to nail a perfect lap on the first try. We need to secure a spot in Q2."

"Copy," the German replied.

From her seat, Diana could see Sebastian's engineer gesturing wildly with his hands every now and then, upset with any maneuver the driver made. She observed from her monitor the laps he was doing: gradually, his times were improving, and although his performance was not the best, combined with the ineffective car, it was surprising to the Austrian.

"Seb, you're improving," Alex informed him as optimistically as possible. "We just have one chance to complete a lap, so try to concentrate as much as possible."

"Copy."

Sebastian pushed the car to its maximum, hugging every inch of the track without exceeding the track limits. Wagner was amazed, and she could hardly look away.

Fiori informed Seb that, for now, they were through to Q2, although it was still necessary for the German to extract a bit more speed from the car to ensure participation in the next qualifying round by a few milliseconds.

Every second that passed felt eternal for Wagner, who was holding her breath with excitement. Finally, when Vettel moved on to Q2, she could breathe easy. In the garage, cheers of excitement echoed, something that made her laugh because, in reality, he had only advanced about five positions on the grid, not a significant achievement, but a good merit given the ineffective car they had.

After a quick analysis of data and preparation for the Q2 strategy, of which Diana had not been a part but had listened attentively, as if she didn't care, it began.

The girl had heard that they had decided to stick with the wet tires they had used in the previous session. It seemed like a mistake to her because a majority of the other drivers would be using new pairs. Therefore, when they saw Sebastian's times, despite being good, starting to slow down compared to others, they hurried to call him to pit stop. Diana couldn't help but laugh. She wasn't the most qualified to judge, as she wasn't an expert, but if they paid more attention to her, such things wouldn't happen so often.

The girl still had a long way to go, but let's say Wagner saw a few DNFs coming and despite sending direct messages warning, they ignored her.

Maybe that's why her boss disliked her so much.

"We can't afford mistakes, Seb!" Alex shouted over the headset as the German went out on the track again. "You have only one damn chance, so I hope you make the most of it."

Sebastian sighed, possibly a little tired of the man's comments.

"Alex, I know. I'm trying my best."

Diana felt the tension escalating in the box. Bourdais had been eliminated from Q1, and Seb was their only hope. In those moments, every lap was crucial because telemetry warned them that there were only tenths of a second between drivers, making the competition even more fierce.

The shouts continued exchanging between the engineer and the driver, and the girl began to sympathize with Vettel. While she understood the position Alex had to maintain, at the same time, she was aware that he was risking his performance, annoying him and adding even more pressure to the equation.

"You can't just make rookie mistakes at this stage, Vettel! I need you to perform a fast lap. Take advantage now that there's no traffic."

The guy just accepted the order, frustrated with the behavior he was getting from his engineer. It wasn't the first time he had spoken to him like that, but it definitely seemed like his typical qualifying anger was exacerbated by the absence of a certain girl the day before.

Sebastian continued pressing as much as he could, cutting every corner and straightening every turn, trying not to make too many corrections due to the rain, and even overtaking those who were in his way on his lap, even when they were at high speeds and he could risk losing control of the vehicle.

Diana began to feel panic at that moment. He shouldn't risk so much because he could crash or go off the track at any moment.

But we're talking about Sebastian Vettel. Of course, he would try to be the best.

When the session timer hit zero, and the guy crossed the checkered flag, he immediately found himself in the third position. Diana felt immense relief and also a subdued excitement, seeing that Seb had advanced to the final qualifying session.

The path to the pole position was close, and everyone at Toro Rosso was aware of it. Now, more than ever, the Austrian could sense how tense her boss was. The good thing was that his nerves seemed to be under control, as all he did was send encouragement and opponent data to the German.

"Come on, Seb, the pole is yours! Just concentrate and don't think about anything or anyone else."

"Thanks for reminding me, Alex. I was already starting to think about what I would do tomorrow when I won the race," Vettel replied sarcastically.

Diana couldn't help but silently laugh at Sebastian's comment. She didn't understand how, despite the pressure, he always found a way to maintain his sense of humor.

"Sebastian, don't say or do stupid things," Alex scolded him. "We need a bit more time to secure P1 for tomorrow. Hamilton is getting closer to your times quite rapidly."

"I'm trying my fucking best, okay?"

The tension increased with each passing second, and Diana couldn't take her eyes off the screen, following every move the German made on the track. The girl silently prayed, hoping that everything would finally go well for both the guy and her team.

"Seb, the pole position is yours!" the engineer shouted, gripping the microphone tightly as he stood up. "You're the best, you've done incredible!"

The girl felt a wave of joy and, why not say it, relief, upon hearing that Vettel had secured the first position on the grid for tomorrow's race. She was impressed by the guy's skills: it was undeniable that the Toro Rosso didn't measure up to other cars, so this was an impressive achievement and, especially, a reason to celebrate for the whole team.

All team members started celebrating immediately, leaving all their belongings on any surface they found on their way to parc fermé. Everyone was ecstatic, and Diana was no exception. With a smile that covered her entire face, the girl made a motion to get up to join her colleagues and, above all, congratulate the driver on his first major achievement in Formula 1.

Before she could even get up from her seat, Fiori was already in front of her, arms crossed, giving her a cold and disdainful look.

"Where do you think you're going, Wagner? I hope it's not where I think it is. You better stay here. You have no place in the celebration."

Diana felt a bit confused and, above all, hurt by the man's comment. She was aware that she wasn't a favorite among some staff members, including Alex, but the way he belittled her made her feel like garbage.

"Mr. Fiori, I'm also part of the team," the blonde commented. "I would like to congratulate Sebastian on his achievement."

"You don't need to congratulate him, that's the business of the team members, not interns like you. Just stay here and clean everything up. I don't care what time you finish, I want everything to look perfect tomorrow."

The intern nodded with a lump in her throat. She wanted to shout a thousand things at that Italian man who made her feel worse and was, in part, the main reason she wanted to give up on everything she had ever dreamed of. It was clear that all kinds of sexist comments bothered her. The treatment she received, and that she had just received, as if she were a mere servant, made her feel like she was living in Cinderella's story, except that she didn't have evil stepmothers or stepsisters, and of course not a prince charming to save her or, at least, help her.

Hours passed and the rain continued to fall vigorously. Despite this, the party for Toro Rosso did not stop and, as she heard from some people who approached to take their personal belongings, it would move to a nearby bar.

Diana felt a little more at ease when everyone left. Slowly, she went from picking up tools, office supplies and even some pieces of the cars, to sweeping and mopping the floor, ending up cleaning the bathrooms, which seemed not to have received bleach since they were created. It might seem a bit strange, but that was serving the girl to clear her mind and forget everything she had been told and done over six arduous months.

Feeling displaced was an understatement, and she knew she had to do something about it. Her stubbornness and, especially, the fear of losing everything made the Austrian not dare to challenge Alex's authority. She feared that if she didn't comply with what was asked of her, she would be kicked out of her position in the internship program, and an opportunity like that would be hard to come by again.

In those moments, surrounded by the noise of falling drops and the hum of the air carrying a fallen leaf from the trees, she realized she was alone and always would be.

She was the only thing she had in her life, and she had to protect it; breaking down or giving up at the slightest thing was an unviable option.

She had to fulfill a dream and couldn't afford to believe the comments she received every day because, in the end, each and every one of them was a lie.

"Hey, are you here?"

The young woman turned towards the garage entrance and saw Sebastian dressed in a gray team-logo T-shirt, jeans, and a completely wet umbrella in his right hand. His gaze seemed sad, and he appeared concerned for the girl in front of him.

"You shouldn't stay alone here, especially with this shity weather," the driver declared entering the place.

Wagner tried to force a smile, although she couldn't pretend in front of the only person she didn't consider a threat there. Her tears threatened to escape, but she controlled herself enough not to break down.

"I'm fine, Sebastian," the blonde tried to disguise. "Don't worry about me. I just have a couple of things left to pick up, and then I'll head back to the hotel."

"I know you're very smart, that's why I know you know, as much as I do, that you shouldn't be doing this," the guy spat out seriously. "It's not your responsibility: there are people from the cleaning department who take care of it." He approached the girl and embraced her. "You should be at the dive bar we were at, drinking tequila shots and celebrating with the rest of the team that I got a pole position."

"And the first one, by the way," Diana received an unfriendly look from the German, hinting that she should stop making excuses. "Fiori told me to stay here, and I didn't want to intrude on that celebration that seems so important to keep exclusively for team members."

Sebastian felt even worse for the girl. He had heard through his radio everything Alex had said to her before the start of the qualifying, and, even though he was aware that she had been mistreated and belittled by her engineer for a few months now, he now felt very guilty about it. Also, leaving her hanging because he got caught up in a phone conversation didn't help his mood.

"You don't have to listen to Alex. You're part of the team no matter what they tell you, and you have the right to come with us."

"Sebastian," the girl lowered her gaze, trying to calm herself, "I don't want to cause trouble or bother anyone. I'm here to learn and be useful."

"You are useful, Di," Vettel put a hand on her shoulder and lifted her chin to make her look at him, "it's just that no one, apart from me, has seen what you're capable of yet."

The Austrian could see sincerity in Sebastian Vettel's eyes. She was still a little hurt because she had been waiting for him for hours, excited because finally, she could do something different than just going to the hotel, but she knew that there was finally someone who supported her, and, above all, that she wasn't alone.

Perhaps, Wagner thought, she finally had a friend.

"Thank you, Seb... Sebastian, I mean," she expressed with gratitude, correcting herself quickly.

"You can call me Seb. My inner circle calls me like that," the driver explained, "all thanks to my sister Lara. She's ten, but if you saw her with Mick... They seem like two completely different people despite being born just a year apart."

Diana didn't understand much but she just nodded, confirming what the driver had said. She was almost finished mopping the floor, and that meant it was time to take her belongings and go back to her hotel. Tomorrow was race day, and they had to be ready early in the morning.

Both of them made sure everything was perfect and headed toward the exit of the paddock at a calmer pace than they should have. The night was colder than usual, bothering Diana a bit, who was surprised at Sebastian's ability to endure such low temperatures.

Without a doubt, that guy surprised her quite a bit.

"Are you leaving now?"

Vettel stopped a few meters from the girl, looking at her intently. He was heading to the parking lot, and he thought Wagner would too. It was not just a matter of weather conditions, but also the late hours of the night.

"Yes," Diana objected. "My hotel is about half an hour from here. If I hurry, I'm sure I'll be there by ten-something."

"No way you're going to go alone so late," the German replied. "There are a lot of crazy people out there and I don't want anything to happen to my favorite paddock girl before I win my first race."

"Seb, I'm serious," she thanked him, "but I can do it for myself. I do this every weekend, and nothing has happened to me."

Sebastian tilted his head, imperceptible at the words coming out of the girl's mouth.

"No, nothing has happened to you yet," he insisted. "From now on, I don't care what you say or any excuse you come up with, you're going to have a chauffeur and a bodyguard."

Wagner reluctantly accepted her companion's offer, knowing that arguing with him made no sense.

The car journey was enjoyable, and deep down, Diana was thankful that Sebastian had insisted on taking her to the hotel. The night was darker than usual, and the rain had left many streams and puddles of water that were hard to avoid walking. The temperature had dropped noticeably, something she could feel from the cold air seeping through the windows of the BMW that Vettel was driving.

"Thanks for bringing me, Seb," the girl said from the passenger seat. "I have to admit you were right. It would have taken me much longer if I had walked."

The blonde didn't say anything. Instead, he turned on the radio, and a soft melody, the first chords of Viva la Vida by Coldplay, began to resonate throughout the vehicle. Diana, who declared herself an absolute fan of the band, just started humming the song quietly, feeling embarrassed about her own voice.

The driver, glancing at the girl but keeping his eyes on the road, couldn't help but be moved by the scene he was witnessing. He didn't know Wagner well, but he knew she was a girl worth getting to know, and over time, they would become good friends.

"Do you like this song?" Sebastian asked Diana.

The girl just nodded and said it was one of her favorites. Vettel, on the other hand, turned up the volume of the song, which was now at the chorus.

"Come on, sing!" Seb encouraged her. "No need to be shy. It's just you and me."

Diana began to let herself be carried away by the confidence that Sebastian had inspired in her and started singing softly, letting the music fill her. Gradually, her singing voice became louder and more confident, leaving her shyness behind.

"See? I told you, you have an incredible voice!" Sebastian affirmed, utterly captivated by the girl's voice.

Blondie blushed at her companion's comment, but she continued singing enthusiastically. Soon enough, Seb joined the impromptu concert, which, along with the sound of rain hitting the metal roof, mixed with the music and their laughter, created an atmosphere they had never experienced before. They had only known each other for a few months, but at that moment, they felt like they had known each other their whole lives.

The car finally stopped in front of the hotel entrance. Quickly, they were greeted by a valet to whom Sebastian handed over the keys and a tip, which was greatly appreciated. Before Diana could get out of the vehicle, the driver rushed to go and open her door, a gesture that surprised the girl quite a bit. She knew about Vettel's flirtatious side, but the romantic side, not so much.

"Well, thanks for bringing me, Seb. It's time for me to go to sleep because, in case you forgot, I have to be well-rested to see you win your first race."

The German laughed at the clarification, although a bit sad to have to say goodbye to Diana already.

"None of that," he shook his head, "I want to make sure my Cinderella gets safely to her quarters."

The young woman nodded, and both started walking toward the hotel entrance. Throughout the walk to Wagner's room, silence settled between them, and neither seemed to want to break it. They hadn't spent the whole day together, but the hours they had shared had been incredible, and now neither wanted to say goodbye to the other.

As soon as they reached room 374, both knew that the farewell was imminent. Diana, who refused to accept that, opened the door and let the boy in, who accepted without any hesitation.

"Hey, Seb, about yesterday..."

Sebastian felt embarrassed. He knew he shouldn't have left her hanging, but the call lasted longer than expected, no matter how much he insisted that he already had plans with someone.

"Don't worry, Di," Vettel interrupted. "It's entirely my fault, and I apologize. An old friend called me, and I lost track of time."

Wagner took off her shoes and sat on her bed while continuing to listen to the blonde. Maybe it affected him that she had stood him up, but in the end, being so absent-minded, the same would have happened to her if she had gotten caught up in a conversation with her father and her sister.

"What's your friend's name?," Diana wanted to know.

"Hanna."

"Well, Hanna is a lucky girl," the blonde said candidly, ignoring the discomfort the guy was showing. "I bet we all would all like to have a friend like you: you can drive a car at around 300 kilometers per hour, you endure the cold perfectly, and you know more than one language, I wish I could!"

Sebastian laughed, although the guilt of hiding Hanna's true identity was eating at him. He wanted to be honest with Diana, and at the same time, he wanted to continue respecting his girlfriend's wish that no one knew about them, for now.

"But didn't you know more than one language?," Seb wanted to know.

"Yes: German, English, Spanish, and, if you consider it a language, Catalan."

"You're a catch, and I'm tremendously grateful to have you on my team, Di," Vettel asserted. "Fiori and everyone else may be jerks to you, but rest assured that next year, when I move to Red Bull, I'll fight to have you come with me," Diana looked at him in amazement. "No kidding, okay? I've talked to Britta and we've set in my pre-contract that one of the requirements is your transfer next year, with me. I have to talk to Horner about it," he declared, "but I know he'll be more than happy to agree."

Diana paled at that. Sometimes she forgot that her path in the next season was a bit uncertain, but she tried not to think about it and ruin moments like the one she was experiencing now.

She didn't know if she should ask, but Wagner decided to take the risk:

"Would you like to stay here, with me, for a while? We can keep talking or watch something on TV, but if you're too tired I understand if you want to go back to your hotel."

"Are you sure of what you're saying, Diana Wagner?"

"Absolutely, Sebastian Vettel."

Both young people spent almost until the early hours of the morning talking mainly about the race the next day, exchanging some strategies that, undoubtedly, couldn't be taken into account due to Diana's position as an intern. Seb, who had discovered that his new friend was more than just a pretty face in the first days of her arrival, realized that she knew more than she seemed, and many of her ideas were a thousand times better than Alex's.

They continued chatting until, around one thirty in the morning, exhaustion made Sebastian fall asleep on Diana's bed, who followed suit shortly after.

Maybe Hanna Prater would never find out that, the night before Sebastian's first victory, he spent it with the love of his life. His true love. They didn't do anything beyond talking, but they did get to know each other a little more, and maybe they began to develop feelings for each other. Although it was still early to know for sure.

However, there is a very famous saying that is often said, and that both young people in that hotel room had overlooked: never say never.

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heartfullofleeches · 9 months

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Maunder Labyrinth Character Intros/General Information

A concept blurb for my haunted attraction yan series in which the Reader applies for a position at the location to make some extra cash for the upcoming season. This post lists the main cast plus a few of the rules they have to follow. Feel free to ask any questions

SawBones (she/they)

Doctor; grouchy 24/7

A woman of science looked down upon by peers and loved ones for her unorthodox methods. Tricked into visited the Labyrinth by "friends" and betrayed by that same group right before the exit. Seeing the talent in her twisted mind she was given a second chance. Was gifted the bodies of all four members as a welcome present to her new home which she then stitched into a new pet who carries out patrols for her. Turns every guest she gets her hands on into a new guard or another trophy on her shelf.

Sawbones lost an eye to a guest before being fully twinned to the Labyrinth. Hates Hound for stopping her from chasing after them once they had safely escaped her section. Her sole comfort is a cassette player she had in her pocket before venturing to the attraction with a mixtape of the songs it once loved. It serves a deeper purpose as her real name is on the tape.

Martyr (He/Him)

"You can trust me!" You can't trust him.

A once shy and awkward body with a tame love for horror now a homicidal fanatic. Lost his mind to the horrors and wonders of the Labyrinth, and slaughtered his friends as offerings for a hope to appease. Bangs himself up and dupes his way into large groups to slowly bump them off one before breaking into a frenzy and killing the rest in his lust.

Welds a chainsaw he decorates with stickers and prints guests might have on them. If something they own is cute enough he will let a guest go - if a ten minute headstart means anything.

Jumpscare

...

....boo

Not much is know about Jumpscare. They reappear and disappear mostly as they please. There one second and gone the next. Devoid of expression and is alot jumpier than they look. Half of their scares are from being startled upon finding living guests while disassociating, and screaming their head off because of the realization.

Jumpscare is one of two actors who will not actively kill guests (unless they have a heart condition). They are interested in the outside world and offer places to hide in exchange for knowledge. Pulls back from this habit once Reader joins the crew and dumps their questions on them instead.

Bedevil

"I see dead people...." "B, that's a mirror." "I know...."

Plagued by wails and visions of the damned. Has trouble telling guests from living or dead and will fly into panic when they attempt to interact- adding another voice to the choir that haunts them. Reader's name tag helps Bedevil differ them from others, but they cling to their side to assure their companion is still among the living. Has thought of asking Reader to quite, but is too afraid of being alone again.

Hound (they/them)

Do not remove their muzzle. Do not interact.

Hound is the other member who will not kill guests - they are also the most monstrous in appearance. Hound is reluctant in their cannibalistic urges, but feels they deserve to live same as everyone else. Eats the corpses of guests littered around and offers sanctuary for survivors in their bunker. It is the only safe zone in the main building.

Twins - Leader (he/him) & Follower (whatever you want)

Follower and Leader swap between manning the front and being guides for the tour. Follower is very assertive, dominant, and boastful. Leader is reserved, submissive and self hating. Follower will lead a tour safely through the maze unless a guest acts against them. Leader will do just about any order giving to them, but has a walkie-talkie at all times to receive them from their bother. If a guests asks for a discount - they will give it. If they ask to be let go - Leader will let them go.

Spector [It]

Enforcer of law, order, and punishment. Has free range of all corners of the Labyrinth and the ability to phase through walls. A tell tale sign of their arrival is the temperature dropping. The cameras around the attraction are their eyes.

Boogeyman

Your Boss.

THE SEVEN IMPORTANT RULES ACTORS HAVE TO FOLLOW

Do not attack guests until signaled.

Do not fight amongst each other.

Once inside Hound's bunker no actor is permitted to attack guests until they exit.

Do not leave your assigned area.

Do not cover the cameras.

Do not take the hired helps name tag. Failure to comply to this rule will be met immediate termination.

Failure to comply otherwise will result in the mask given to you sewn into place. A second strike will give the jailer free range of punishment.

#yandere imagines #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere blurb #yandere insert #male yandere #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #female yandere #yandere harem #yandere horror #yandere character #yandere concept #yandere x reader

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shepscapades · 11 months

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YAY Week 1 prompts in-detail are here! The Hermitcraft Character Design Event arrives! Feel free to go wild with these prompts as inspiration, or use the above suggestions to help form ideas for creating character designs, drawing, writing, scene-making, anything you like!

1.] Non-Life-Series Hermit on their Red Life: death-game-ify your blorbo of choice! Imagine your character as though they were taking place in one of the Traffic SMP Life Series, and how they may look or have ended up on their Red Life. You could go for one series specifically, or just go for the vibes!

2.] As a D&D Class: Throw your blorbo into RPG Dungeons & Dragons— is it that your mcyt character has been dropped into the world of D&D? Is it an AU? Is it D&D mechanics and features in the world of Minecraft? Up to you!

Reminders: Anyone is welcome to participate, in whatever way and however much! Feel free to apply these prompts to any mcyt blorbo of your choosing! Feel free to use the tag #ShepsHermitDesign23 and/or @me in your posts! I look forward to seeing what everyone creates!

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fanart #trafficsmp #life series #drawing event #drawing challenge #drawing prompt #mcyt #shepshermitdesign23 faq #shepshermitdesign23 #pinned for ease of access!

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unicorncornflakes · 10 months

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Dark Desire - Modern AU! | Chapter 12

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

Summary: Aemond doesn't know how he feels every time he sees you. Neither do you when you look at him. Your father Aegon has always been absent from your upbringing ever since he divorced your mother. That role has been filled by Aemond until last summer, when everything changed.

Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: This fic includes manipulation, violence, death, and inc3st, at some points. Reader has purple eyes and her mother is from Dayne House, the rest is complete free :D

Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @afro-hispwriter @chainsawsangel @thetrueblackheart @atherverybest @itsabby15 @boundlessfantasy @partypoison00 @glame @tempo-rary-fix @tssf-imagines @aaaaaamond @imaloserbby @youngcomputerpuppy @aemondsfavouritebastard @cloudroomblog @queenofshinigamis @bluevxnus @wooya1224 @serving-targaryen-realness @darkenchantress @padfooteyes @mariannnavao @moonlightfoxx @jennifer0305 @ammo23 @iloveallmyboys @tempt-ress @bellameshipper @okfashionista @shelbyteller @dahlias-and-marigolds @the-knights-of-ne @bellaisasleep

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 5.7K

Acknowledgment: To @ammo23 for the brilliant corrections and the wonderull work as beta reader, for all the patience and the love that always shows to this story. I´m so grateful. Thank you so much :D

“I don't know what we can do. The drunken dragon always accepts our conditions. Always. That Stupid Aegon...” Gerolf Dayne, the oil magnate, the richest man in Starfall and the second richest man in Dorne, just behind the Martells, was smoking a cigar in that meeting room in King's Landing, at one of the most expensive and prestigious law firms in all of Westeros. “If now (Y/N) has stopped having her head on the clouds and wants to study a career, everything is fine with me. It was about time that she stopped those stupid dreams of wanting to be an artist," he took another puff, and Gerold, his eldest son, narrowed his violet eyes, annoyed.

"We have enough money, both us and the dragons, to do whatever she wants," your uncle said, getting up from the seat he occupied next to his father, who presided over the long table in the office. "Let her be what he wants to be; let her do what she wants."

"The only thing that worries me is that she has suddenly changed her mind. If she applied to Sunspear the same day, and then told me she didn't want to go, that she wanted to make a career here, I don't know. It worries me," your mother sighed, defeated, not understanding what was happening to you. You had always been firm in the things you wanted, in what you desired. And now all of them had gone to the capital for an emergency meeting so that they and their lawyers could talk about the conditions they would put in place in this new situation because that's how it had been all your life; conditions and more conditions imposed by the lawyers of one and the other, all imposed looking for what is supposedly best for you, but very rarely taking into account your own wishes. It had been like that all your life, and it would be like that until you finished college.

"It's normal for you to worry. It's your puppy." Gerolf smiled at his daughter; he had always had a soft spot for his little girl, even if she had disappointed him by marrying your father. His little girl had come home, leaving behind a lazy, terrible dragon. However, she had returned with a small setback for his father: You. You weren't a Dayne, you weren't a Targaryen… Did your grandfather love you? Sure, you were like your mother enough that he saw a little copy of his little girl, but he kept feeling like a failure. Had he brought up your mother so badly that she allowed herself to be tricked by your father? "But still, this meeting could have been settled with a fax machine: 'We don't accept dragon terms.' That's all I would have told them."

"I need to see her, Dad. I didn't feel like things were going well the last time I talked to her," your mother emphasized again. Your mother had only received a call from you, in which you had told her that you wanted to stay there, that you were fine, but even so, she had not been convinced. Something was up, and all her alarms had gone off when you told her you would be living at your father's house while studying at the university. That was not something your mother would condone under any circumstances.

"Besides, we have to talk about the question of changing her last name." Your uncle Gerold sat down next to his father, right in front of your mother, after looking out the window. “Before she left, it was what she wanted.”

"What?" your mother asked, surprised, almost worried. Because deep down, she knew that it would kill Aegon. Because deep down, she was still worried about your father, maybe she wasn't in love, but she was still fond of him. "I don't understand you. She has never told me anything like that."

“Well, she and I talked about it several times last year. When she came of age, we discussess wapping Targaryen for Dayne, and we're done with all this crap," Gerold said with a shrug as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Your mother looked at her older brother as if he was telling her something she had never expected, and your grandfather smiled with pleasure.

"I think it's great. After all, the ones who have been in charge of raising her have been us, not the dragons," he answered happily, at least in that you were a Dayne, an authentic girl from Starfall.

“That would break her father,” your mother said, almost afraid to speak, and her father looked at her, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Well, Aegon might have thought the same thing when he fucked someone else while he was married to you. He could have thought about your heart…" he said it without any love, almost not believing what he was hearing from his daughter. It was terrible, too terrible. But, just as he was going to continue his speech, the meeting room door opened, and you appeared first, followed by Aemond, who seemed like a shadow of you. Your father followed him, and then Daeron appeared, who was chatting with the lawyer of your maternal family. Your mother was surprised to see you with a necklace of the heraldry of your paternal family, and Gerold smiled cheekily. So, in the end, the one-eyed dragon had fucked you, and that was his cheeky way of naming you as his own? Great.

"Mom", you ran into her arms, and your mother hugged you tight, not wanting to let go because she really didn't want to. She was just worried about you. She would never stop being, but all those changes were too much. Then you greeted your grandfather with a brief kiss. He responded with a loving smile, and again, you ran into Gerold's arms, who hugged you and simply whispered in your ear, "Are you finally flying dragons now?" He winked at you, then shook hands with Aemond, who had followed you across the room as the others greeted each other.

You blushed at his words while the others greeted each other. While Gerold and Aemond were talking, they had always been a good rapport between them even though Gerold called him an asshole behind Aemond’s back, you saw the scene that would mark the rest of your life. Your father reached out like a helpless puppy to your mother becauseif your mother was going to marry another man, your father would never get over it. He would always be in love with his Stargirl and would always live with the burden of knowing that he had destroyed the most beautiful thing he had. Your mother kissed him on the cheek, and Aegon smiled to himself; they exchanged a few more words that made your father smile, and your mother left him without looking back. She just sat in her seat while your father went to the other end of the table. This was what a love that could never be again felt like.

Although you were not physically present during those negotiations, they did involve topics that directly affected you. But this time your mother's family had demanded that you be present; after all, you were already of legal age, and what was said there would begin to mark your adult life.

"How about we sit down?" Your grandfather spoke with the deep voice that characterized him. "I would like to finish before lunchtime, " he said, and all the others sat at the table; at one end, the Targaryen’s; at the other, the Dayne’s. You went to sit next to Aemond when your maternal family's lawyer spoke. The best thing for everyone was that you sat in the middle of the table, without taking sides for any position and where you could not feel pressured by any of the parties. You looked at Aemond and saw his jaw clench, but he said nothing. You just sat in the middle of the table, almost as if you felt that the fight for you was just about to start and that you would always be the victim.

“I think you received our proposal. The one we sent out last night,” Daeron said, taking a seat between his brothers as your mother's lawyer did the same. Gregory Martell, one of the younger sons of Sunspear's owners and your mother's future brother-in-law, had always been devoted to your family's cause. After all, your custody and everything around it had fed his children for the last 17 years.

"Sure. Otherwise, we wouldn't be here," Gregory smiled and cleared his throat as he offered your uncle Gerold and your grandfather a copy of the proposal. Your mother almost seemed left out of the negotiations, but you could tell Daeron was doing the same. The only one with a copy of the conditions was Aemond, while Aegon stared at the ceiling and wiggled his leg in his seat. It seemed that your life had been directed entirely by your uncles and your grandfather as if your parents didn’t have a say.

"First, I'd like to talk to (Y/N) because we've gone from wanting to go to Sunspear to wanting to stay in King's Landing." Your Uncle Gerold put on his reading glasses, the kind he hated to wear in front of people who weren't his own family, but he still did it so as not to lose details of the new contract that your paternal family was trying to establish. "Why?" He looked at you seriously, expecting an argument bigger than the one he already knew. Now you were between Aemond's sheets,and he didn't care, but he needed a more convincing excuse than that. However, just before you spoke, Aemond cleared his throat.

"Why wouldn't she want to stay here? We are her family," he said feeling attacked, and Gerold smiled. Well, it was your boyfriend coming to your aid, but he needed to listen to you, not Aemond. "I think (Y/N) has reached a greater maturity this summer, where she has realized that she can have a bigger and brighter future if she stays at King's Landing College instead of going to Sunspear School of the Arts," Aemond said, almost relishing the stratagem he had concocted that bound you to his side. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye with a sad and indecisive grin, almost as if you felt that he had never liked the idea of what you wanted to do with your life. As if he felt completely in control now of your life as well. You looked at the table under the watchful eye of your Uncle Gerold.

"Okay," your maternal grandfather replied, taking another drag on his cigar. Gerold looked at his father with a frown, almost as if he felt that his father didn't realize what was wrong with you. "Sunspear always seemed stupid to me. A career here will always be much better than five years of studying the arts, which will lead to nothing." You looked at him incredulously, as if you had never expected that from people who loved you, but that meeting was not normal, and neither were the reasons that had led you to be there.

"I don't think Sunspear is stupid," your father spoke, breaking the silence, and your mother followed shortly after.

"Of course not. If that's what you want (Y/N), we're here to support you." Your mother followed your father in her argument, and for the first time,you wanted them to stay together as many things would have changed. Your uncle Gerold sighed, and you saw Aemond's jaw clench again, not daring to look at you. You wondered what was going through his head. "Honey, don't change that decision because others think it's not something with a future", your mother spoke with affection, and your father followed her.

"Exactly," Aegon replied, nodding, and Aemond continued without looking at you. You only saw how he avoided eye contact with you, almost as if he regretted having asked you to make such a selfish sacrifice and that it seemed to be for his only benefit.

"This summer, a lot has happened and... I want to stay in King's Landing," you said in a whisper. "I'll study history and philosophy at the university here and…" your uncle Gerold laughed sarcastically while your mother looked at you incredulously.

“(Y/N), you've never been good at philosophy. I mean, you passed it, but you never got good grades in it," your mother said almost desperately, not understanding what was happening to you. Your uncle looked at you incredulously, almost as if he didn't believe what he was hearing from you.

“Uncle Aemond will help me with the admission and…” you started saying, but Gerold cut you off quickly.

"Aemond, how much do you have to do with this change of heart?" He said it almost as if he was trying to protect you again, as if he didn't like it anymore that you were flying with dragons instead of staying with them. If Aemond was going to control you, Gerold was not going to. He wanted to see you happy, not at Aemond's side, like a nice possession to show off to others.

"It's the only college where I could get her admitted, taking into account that the deadlines are already closed", your uncle put forward as an excuse. He didn't want to admit that it was the career he wanted for you, the hidden dream he'd always had, that you'd follow in his footsteps, that you'd manage to finish the doctorate that he had to give up to take care of the family after his father's death. "It is a good career and a good institution."

"Gods, did we only come here because you managed to sweet-talk her, Aemond?" Your mother sighed almost desperately while your uncle Gerold raised his fingers to his eyes and scratched them hard, almost fed up with that encounter. You had never been in a meeting like that, but you already saw how they were, how they had always been. A continuous fight between two sides that would never reach an understanding. Aemond was about to speak when you lashed out again.

"No, Mom. Really, it's what I want to do," you sighed, defeated; you wanted to stay there, next to Aemond. You didn't want to lose him, you couldn't. You were just freaking out at that meeting. You felt your heartbeat anguished. Why did everyone put you in that situation? "Please, can we continue?" you asked, and everyone in that gathering looked at each other.

"Perhaps, it would be better if you wait outside", Aemond said, addressing you as if you two were alone. You looked the other way, seeing how your mother looked at you confused and your uncle Gerold angry.

"It's okay. I just want to get this over with," you declared tiredly. You hadn't slept all night, and Aemond looked at you desperately, almost as if he was beginning to realize how far he had come in his selfishness.

"At this point, Gregory, bring out the conditions," your grandfather Gerolf spoke again, giving an order to his lawyer. The Martell opened his case taking out a new paper and handing a copy to Daeron and another to Aemond. Your father moved closer so he could read the one he'd given Daeron. Aemond read silently and laid the page contemptuously on the table, slumping back into his seat, utterly jaded.

"Whose brilliant idea was this?" Aemond took out a cigarette and put it to his lips, lit it with his Zippo and puffed on it, exhaling uncharacteristically through his mouth, almost as if he were angry and confused all over again. You were already beginning to understand how he acted every time he felt attacked.

"Mine." Your mother spoke, not looking at Aemond. He could never bear her. Never. The one-eyed man had always been driven crazy by her and on issues that referred to you even more so.

"How not?" Aemond replied, sneering at your mother as if he were the smartest in the room because He felt sorry for the rest, but Aemond Targaryen was superior to any of them.

"Does it bother you that you have to pay for your studies in full or that (Y/N) doesn't stay to live in the mansion?" Gerold came to his sister's defense and spoke, looking at Aemond, holding his gaze, daring him to speak. But your uncle was always talking; he was never silent. Dragons couldn't afford to be.

"I don't mind paying, it bothers me that you want to separate her from us", Aemond reproached your maternal family for that part, angry and furious "It almost seems like what you've always wanted to do. Separate her from what she is: a Targaryen."

“No, what I want is for my daughter to start making her life. Away from anyone who cuts their wings, away from people who always forget her birthdays," your mother replied, remembering that hurt. Her words were so true, but at the same time, so painful that you just wanted to cry while everyone ignored you in the name of your wellbeing. They fought against themselves in a fierce battle in which there would only be one loser.

"I do not agree with this clause," Aemond repeated again, ignoring all your mother's words.

"Me neither", replied your father, offended for the first time with his ex-wife. "(Y/N) is not so bad at home" Your father pushed you into the jaws of the dragon and locked you up without knowing it, thinking that you would be happier that way. You spent all your day with Aemond, and he always saw you happy; why wouldn't you be happy living in his home? He did not understand where those conditions came from.

"Perhaps a good measure would be that since we are going to pay the full amount of the studies, which we do not care about and which we will be happy to do, (Y/N) could live in the family home, as a measure of good faith" your uncle Daeron spoke with his lawyer speech and your mother did not remain silent.

"No, definitely not. We will take care of the cost of the place where she wants to live in King’s Landing, but she will not live with you. I'm sorry, but no," the daughter of the biggest oil tycoon, the woman who had never allowed herself to be tamed by anything or anyone, appeared again on the scene, ready to fight for the happiness of her puppy. "I refuse. We already made the concession that she changed her mind at the last moment, but not that she lives with you. No."

"We want (Y/N) to live where she will be close to the university, to develop as an independent entity, without family ties that can bind you," said Gregory Martell, explaining the wish of your maternal family. They only wanted for you what they had always wanted; that you be yourself, that you develop away from her last name, from your father's last name or from anything that could stop you from being yourself.

They continued arguing, much to your grandfather's chagrin, even after lunch. They continued until night fell. The session was left to continue the next day, waiting to find a solution to your situation. But you realized something, nobody asked you again what you wanted. You only saw your mother scream, Aemond clench his jaw every time she spoke, your uncle Gerold trying to control his sister, and your father staring at the ceiling in despair. That was your happy family, and it seemed that in it, you were nothing. Not a Dayne, not a Targaryen. Nothing.

"Do you have the dress yet?" you asked your mother, both lying in the hotel room that your maternal family had reserved at the last moment when they saw that the negotiations about your studies were dragging on. The two of you had dined alone in her room, although Aemond had taken you there, and he would be in charge of picking you up and taking you back to the family home. You knew that he was waiting for you in the hotel bar. You didn't know if he was patient or not, but at that moment, you needed to be with your mother.

"No, not yet. I would prefer that you come with me to see them, and there is still time," your mother told you, looking at the ceiling. She looked tiredat the end of the day. The truth was that the last thing on her mind at that moment was her wedding. You worried her even more. "You've barely eaten," she commented, looking now at your plate, which you had barely touched. She sat on the edge of the bed, and you followed her.

"It's just that I'm not hungry lately", you commented without much desire to talk. You just wanted to be with her. Having a moment of rest in what was now a roller coaster of emotions.

"If all this change is because of Cregan Stark..." she started to speak, blaming everything that was happening on what had happened with the northerner as if you wanted to stay there just to wait for Cregan to come back. You blushed. You barely thought about him; you would never do it again.

"No, Mom. It's just that I want to stay here. That's all," you replied, looking at the plate with empty eyes. The truth is that you didn't feel like eating, you hardly slept, and you only spent your days at the expense of what Aemond wanted. Was that the life you wanted to lead? No, but you were afraid of losing the person you loved.

"I need to understand why, honey. I need to know," she begged you to know, but you couldn't tell her. You couldn't tell her that you loved Aemond, that you just wanted to be by his side, that you needed him, that he was like the worst drug you were addicted to, that you adored when he undressed you and when he kissed you, that you were dying to be a single dawn away at his side… that you were simply in love.

"You wouldn't understand, Mom", you whispered to her, holding onto your knees, wanting to end the matter. They were all blind. No one saw what was happening, but the necklace that now hung from your neck made your mother begin to flake at an idea that she preferred to bury in the bottom of her heart. It was impossible for history to repeat itself, right?

"Get me the same, and get me the bill" Your uncle Gerold sat next to Aemond, took out his credit card and gave it to the waiter, much to Aemond's annoyance. The dragon narrowed his eye in annoyance. The last thing he wanted to do was talk or just see Gerold after arguing about you all day. Both sitting at the Hightower hotel's bar, Aemond took a silent sip of his whiskey while Gerold drank it in one go until almost finishing it.

"You didn't have to pay for it," Aemond commented, not looking at the Dornishman who now sat next to you.

"That's true. You have much more money than me. The three heads of the dragon came out in that interview," said the son of the oil magnate. His eyes would always seek to provoke Aemond, pushing him almost to his limit, yet this time when Aemond looked at him, Gerold only dank silently.

They both continued in silence for a long time, and Gerold watched with a smirk as Aemond looked at his expensive watch, waiting for you. The amount of time you had already been upstairs seemed excessive to him. Besides, he had decided to give you a surprise. After such a long day, he didn't think about taking you home to sleep. You would go to a hotel, you would make love until dawn, and he would whisper to you what a good girl you were. You always liked that. He took another swallow of his whiskey, why didn't you come down now?

"I don't think she is going to come go down anytime soon if it's any consolation," Gerold answered, seeing him look at the clock desperately. However, he frankly asked what the others refused to see. "How long have you two been fucking?" he asked bluntly, not looking at him, just taking a small sip of his whiskey as if it wasn't him.

"None of your business," Aemond replied, not flustered, not feeling like a monster. He was superior in every way to a man like Gerold. He wasn't going to feel threatened by him, he never would.

"I think at this point where she wants to give up her dreams for you, yes, it ismy business", he replied. His violet eyes locked on Aemond's one-eyed gaze. The dragon averted his eye from Gerold. He felt guilty. Having seen you as he had seen you in that meeting was proof that he would never be a good choice for you. It was too selfish, but he couldn't be without you. He did not imagine it. He could not. It was impossible for him.

"She can't leave King's Landing. She just can't." That was all Aemond told him, unable to say much more. He could never be weak, ever. Next to Gerold, in that bar, that was exactly what was happening, and he didn't feel comfortable with it.

The Dornishman took a swing of his drink and dared to speak. He would be the first and only one who would care about your true happiness. “I have a place, it’s not big nor luxurious, but the most loyal to me serve there," he said, shrugging. "It has a garden, and the main rooms face an inner courtyard where you could fuck her against the balustrade, and no one would ever know. Nobody."

Aemond looked at him in confusion and swallowed. He didn't want to accept his help, never would, and yet he knew you would be happier at Sunspear than you would be at home with him and the rest of the family. Gerold was showing him the perspective of what your life would really be like if you stayed in King’s Landing. You wouldn't eat, how long had you not eaten? You wouldn't sleep. You wouldn't be happy because it was being close to everything that trapped you and didn't let you breathe. Gerold was proposing a solution to both of you, a solution where you could be away from all prying eyes but together at the end of the day.

"You take a plane on Friday afternoon, and you leave on Monday morning. The two of you, in a new place, where you could be more than you are now.” Your Dornish uncle spoke again, wishing he was having an effect on the dragon.

"It's still Westeros," Aemond whispered to himself, taking another small swallow. The Dornishman's words cut deep into his heart. However, he did not trust Aemond Targaryen – he was not a being that could be trusted by anyone. "What do you want in exchange for this?" he spoke frankly since Aemond knew that favours pay off.

"May (Y/N) be happy, may this never be heard of... may the same thing as Rhaenyra not happen to her..." Gerold shrugged, remembering the scandal that had happened so many years ago. "I don't want anyone to find out, ever," he declared, getting up from the seat next to Aemond. "Think about it and leave a good tip for the waiter. You have more money than me," he sneered, leaving Aemond alone with his thoughts, only at the prospect of you being happier than you are now.

"Have you had anything for dinner?" Aemond finally spoke, and you looked at him with a smile, sitting on the terrace of that hotel room where he had taken you that night. You stretched out, your whole body half-naked in front of him, and he just smiled. That was how he liked you, in the moonlight, happy and radiant because you were with him, but something was missing. If you stayed on King's Landing, you would always be missing something.

"My mother ordered some dinner" You smiled at him, and he knelt in front of you, between your legs, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling at him, happy to have a moment like this after so long. "And have you had something to eat?"

"Well, the guy from the bar gave me some sweets with the whiskey", he confessed, knowing that this would make you laugh.

"Nooo, what are you doing eating that? They must have been years old," you replied, laughing and caressing his hair, and he laughed too. He kissed you sweetly, and you followed him, stretching your arms over his shoulders, letting yourself be carried away by such a quiet moment. At the end of the kiss, he just sighed and unhooked your bra, getting goosebumps all over your skin. His touch will always fascinate you. He buried his face in between your bare breasts, and you laughed. Aemond might be held in higher regard than other men, but in the end, they were all equal, and all did the same.

"Go to Sunspear. Never listen to me again when it comes to something that goes against what you want," he whispered to you, and you separated him from your body. You contemplated a surrendered man.

"Aemond..." you started saying, but he interrupted you again.

"I'll come to see you. I would travel the whole world to see you. But don't let me stop what you want to be. I need you to be happy. Much more than I need to be happy myself," he whispered to you again, and you didn't talk about it again. Nevermore. He wouldn't tell you about his conversation with your uncle Gerold, he never would. He wouldn't tell you that he planned to come to see you whenever he could, that in the house that Gerold had offered you, no one would see you, and… for a moment, he was excited at the thought that he could go hand in hand with you in a public place, although that was madness, a simple fantasy. But what do humans not live on, if not fantasies? And Aemond, at that moment, felt closer to men than to gods, despite being a Targaryen.

The next day, the new points and terms of your new change of mind were discussed. It was concluded that you would finally study at Sunspear, that your paternal family would be in charge of paying for the school for the coming years and that your maternal family would arrange everything for you to live in the house with a garden that Gerold had in the capital of the Martells.

Both parties reached the same agreement that they had prior to your previous change of mind, and your mother breathed easier as if that visit had been what you needed, and you smiled happily. The subject of the change of last name was something that was not discussed at that meeting at Gerold's insistence. He had understood that now you were more Targaryen than even your father. After all, you had succumbed to the same thing that all Targaryen’s ended up surrendering, the same taste for their own blood and lineage. But he didn't care, he wanted you to be happy without anyone finding out. And thanks to Gerold, relative peace returned. He would protect you; he would take care of you. However, no one saw how your face changed when you received an unexpected message: Cregan was returning to the capital. And you didn't know what you would tell him now that things would never be the same again.

Aemond remembered blood. He remembered the pain and the scream as he was hit. His mouth tasted of blood. The metallic, iron taste that ran through his throat as he sobbed. His nose couldn't get rid of the unmistakable scent of blood either. Like a deluded child, he thought his eye would be saved as he writhed on the floor. He was a stupid kid. Always was.

Rhaenyra had no natural children, or at least it was what she always said to end up avoiding the shame of having given birth to three bastard children, who had nothing to do with the cousin she had married to gain the influence of the Velaryon. A fruitful union. In which the three bastard children that Rhaenyra had given birth to had been given as adopted. They had all believed it, or at least they had all pretended to believe it. Even Helaena, who had married one of them to her own nephew, but no one had said anything because they weren't Targaryen blood like them, were they? Hypocrites. They all danced to what Rhaenyra said, but that was another story. Another story that has nothing to do with that child who was writhing in anguish and pain on the floor. Or, perhaps a lot, but that was not what was happening to Aemond now.

Luke had attacked him. Aemond knew the truth as well as they did. That dirty truth that everyone was trying to hide. They were bastards and children of the pure and holy Rhaenyra, although they all tried to hide it, and Aemond was the only one brave enough to have said it out loud, or perhaps the most innocent and sincere of them all.

Still, there had been consequences. He had lost his eye for telling the truth, and it was not the pain of losing the eye that affected Aemond the most. It was afterwards, looking in the mirror, the memory of the hospital room where they had sewn him up, adolescence marked by a disfigured face... and the words of Daemon, his favourite uncle. He had said that he deserved it and had sided with the one who had gouged out his eye, and Aemond promised himself that in an act which one Targaryen had positioned himself against another would not go unpunished. Aemond Targaryen learned to be a vengeful man.

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen modern au #aemond modern au #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine

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secretswiftymarvelfan · 3 months

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I love you 3000 writing bonanza!

I’ve hit 3000 followers!!!

Now if you remember a while ago I asked how you guys would like to celebrate and this is what I’ve come up with! If you remember my 2.5k Followers Writing Challenge and Exchange its kinda similar to that but I’ve made some improvements!

What is going to happen is I am going to open up my askbox/dms for requests!

To make this manageable and allow me to complete as many as possible I will only be accepting requests in these following forms:

1) A question about a character or series

For example: How would X characters feel about Y character doing XYZ?

2) A What If…. For one of my series

For example: What If the character for X series met 10 years prior

3) A request using a maximum of 3 of the prompts below (the list is hella long so I’ve put it below the cut!)

For Example: Ari Levinson / Mob AU / You won’t get away so easy

If I receive a request that does not fall into one of these three categories then I will not fulfill it!

And because I like for everyone to be able to get involved if you yourself are a writer/want to give writing a go and you like any of the below prompts feel free to use them (the max of 3 doesn’t apply to you guys) all I ask is that you tag me, use the hashtag Niamh Loves You 3000, use appropriate warnings and let me know which ones you’re using so I can keep my eye out!

If you are writing a fic using the below prompts I ask you to follow these rules:

No sexual relations with minors, no somnophilia, necrophilia, incest, toilet stuff, snuff, or beastiality!

Dark Fics are allowed (Non-Con/Dub-Con) but they MUST BE APPROPRIATELY TAGGED!

Any creation MUST BE ORIGINAL! No stealing, stealing is bad!

The creation if part of a series must be able to be read as a stand alone!

No word limit! If it’s over 500 please use the read more function!

All the prompts are below the cut, remember its a max of three, but you can mix and match as you like so the possibilities are endless!

Characters:

Chris Evans

Steve Rogers

Andy Barber

Frank Adler

Ari Levinson

Curtis Everett

Johnny Storm

Jake Jensen

Ransom Drysdale

Any other Chris Evans character

Trope:

Fake Dating

Only One Bed

Enemies to Lovers

Friends to Lovers

Cuddling for warmth

Trapped together

Mistaken Identity

One night only

Love Triangle

Fated Mates

Childhood Sweethearts

Grumpy x Sunshine

Forbinned Love

Forced Proximity

WILDCARD! (You can pick an Trope not listed!)

AU:

A/B/O AU

Mob AU

Sports team AU

College AU

Emergency Service AU

(Medieval) Royalty AU

(Modern) Royalty AU

Pornstar AU

Fairytale / Fantasy AU

Biker AU

Soulmate AU

Band/Musician AU

WILDCARD! (You can pick an AU not listed!)

Dialogue:

"I told you not to touch that"

"I'm tired of answering that question"

"Why didn't they come?"

"I'm so sick of pretending everything's okay"

"don't just stand there! do something!"

"do you remember that night in [insert place]?"

"is there a problem here gentlemen?"

"what on earth happened here?"

"there's blood everywhere"

"Get in the van!"

"I'm not saying you're a bad cook, but even the flies in the kitchen wear gas masks."

"I may be a terrible dancer, but I've got great moves in bed."

"I'm not high maintenance; I'm just low tolerance for mediocrity."

"I love the sound of your voice and the way you say my name."

"Being with you feels like coming home."

“You're not the person I thought you were."

"I never imagined my life without you."

"I never got to say goodbye."

"I'm so glad you're here to point out my flaws. I would never have noticed them on my own."

"Oh, don't worry about being late. We'll just sit here and wait for you forever."

"I'm sorry. Did I ask for your opinion?"

"Why do you always insist on seeing the worst in people?"

"It's not my fault you can't handle the truth."

"You don't know what I'm capable of."

"I'll do whatever it takes to get what I want."

"You think you're better than me, but you're not."

"I'll use anyone I need to achieve my goals."

"You've made a huge mistake, and now you're going to pay for it."

"Don't you realize how much you've hurt everyone around you?"

"you have no idea what you do to me"

"don't you dare go slow"

"I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow"

"move and you won't be coming tonight"

"hands behind you're back"

"Beg for it"

"you can take it, you've done it before"

"I'm going to fucking ruin you"

"do you think you deserve a reward/punishment?"

"show me how much you missed me"

"Are you holding back? don't"

"shall we put your mouth to better use?"

"Slowly, I'm not going anywhere"

"I said I'd take care of you"

"Please, I can't sit still"

So there’s absolutely so many to pick from covering fluff, comedy, angst and smut 😉 don’t forget to follow the rules I’ve set out above!!

I love you all 3000 🩵🩵🩵

#NiamhCelebrates #Niamh Loves You 3000 #Writing Event #writing challenge #request info #chris evans #andy barber #ari levinson #ransom drysdale #johnny storm #jake jensen #steve rogers #colin shea

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thesirencult · 1 year

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Pick A Card Reading : Soulmate/Forever Person/Future Spouse

(Flowers Of Romance Part 1)

Hello beautiful readers,

I decided to start a series of tarot readings that will be based on literature and specifically romance novels, poetry and letters.

Obviously this is copyrighted and if a fellow reader uses the same type of format or reposts my writing I would appreciate it if they tagged and credited me. Karma works both ways and copying someone else's work to gain a few likes and followers has its downside. I'll create a masterpost in a few days so you will be able to find all my readings into one place.

The series kicks of with quotes from "Letters To Milena" by Franz Kafka. A beautiful book that is a perfect read for the fall and winter season.

Novels keep great loves alive in their pages and even if the lovers ascend together to another level of consciousness their loving energy will forever be with us.

If you want a personal reading you can book one through direct messaging. I offer tarot readings and astrology ones (both birth charts and synastry). ONLY 15 SPOTS ARE AVAILABLE FOR TAROT AND 5 FOR ASTROLOGY ! THANK YOU GUYS 💖💖 Enjoy your reading ! It's for entertainment purposes and it's a general one, so feel free to apply everything to your own situation. Don't be shy ! Comment which pile/piles you chose 💞

Pile 1

Death, 10 Of Wands, 8 of wands

My dear,

Your soft voice echoes in the tunnels of my despair, disrupting the silence of loneliness and waking me up from the deathly sleep of emptiness. You are the light that woke me up from the slumber my love. I had lost all hope, letting go of myself into the abyss. I thought that no one would show up for me. That I was created here in this world as a mistake, without a twin soul. You're mine my beloved.

It's time to let me take the burdens off of your shoulders. I would do it all for you baby. I'll be your lover, your father, your brother, your friend. Everything for you. Will you accept me, a man beaten and bruised by fate, that you brought back to life ?

You broke the chains that held me back. When I say that I will do something I mean it. I can not wait to be with you. I'm insatiable.

Pile 2

The Magician, Knight of Cups

Babe,

Have you been good ? Because I'm extra naughty my love !

I know that I can be too aggressive and forward sometimes. My ego gets the best of me and that causes problems in our relationship. I feel it in my soul that I manifested you, like I did with everything in my life. I can be possessive and arrogant, but I swear I'll work on it for our sake.

I know I'm immature, but it's because I can not contain myself around you. You make me feel young again, like a small child in need of his favourite candy. I'm trying to romance you with flowers and chocolate and everything your heart desires but you're playing hard to get. I'll get you, I know I'll do baby. When time comes you'll be mine. I don't back down easily...

Pile 3

The Empress, The Moon, Justice

My Goddess,

Someone would think that you were made from fairy dust. Built by God as the epitome of woman. You're very feminine, kind, sensitive and watery. Your creative powers are immense and you can manifest everything your heart desires. Whatever your hands touch, turns to gold. You make me feel like a Good, because you're a Goddess. I'll worship you as a one, my sacred love.

You're like the moon. Always changeable and fertile with ideas. You have your moments,good and bad, but I still love you and adore you through everything. Your intuition is always on point. Wise yet fresh and innocent. You awoke primal instincts within me. We can not escape time my Goddess. We are bound by it. But I'm beginning to wonder, why does time seem to slow down whenever you caress me and when you let my lips touch yours, the lips of a goddess.

Sometimes I wonder if I deserve you. Do I deserve the love of a Goddess ? Always and forever yours. Yours. Yours and only yours...

Pile 4

Ace Of Swords, 2 Of Wands, Queen Of Wands

Dear Soulmate,

When I saw you, it was the first time I saw clearly. My eyes opened to your beauty and love. The blindfold was lifted and now I see. I see the clear light blue colour of the skies and hear the birds sing. You opened up my eyes to new horizons and unknown magical lands.

I finally made the choice to leap into your fountain of love. I made the choice to anchor my heart into the bottom of your deep wild oceans. I long to live with you by the sea, to honour your beautiful and gentle soul. Because, for all the sights I've seen and all the journeys I've taken around the world, our journey and you, my partner, I'll never grow tired of.

You're warm and vibrant like the sun. You keep my heart warm in the cold winters. You keep me alive my love.

Yet I feel that if I dared to fly too close to you I would get burned. The problem is that I'll be honoured to die by your scorching love.

Pile 5

The Star, Ace Of Pentacles , The Hermit

My little star,

You're so enchanting, like you came out of a fairytale. Your smile, your lips, your hair, your beautiful elegant fingers. I love kissing your petite knuckles and nuzzle my face on top of your head. You're so talented and beautiful. My lucky star. I admire you a lot. I love your magical aura.

I want to offer you the world and even though it seems like I'm promising a lot, I mean it. From the first moment I saw you I tried to hold back my feelings, to calm down and take things slowly so we could build a strong foundation.

You're a mirage. I dream of you and I have visions of those beautiful eyes. My beloved little star, you shine so bright in the darkness of the world. You're so unique.

I know that we have to take some time apart to grow separately. Don't feel lonely, I'm right here looking at the night sky, wishing and dreaming for a love like yours. I'll wrap you up in a blanket made from stardust.

Remember, every single time you look up at the sky, either at the moon and the stars or at the bright sun, I'll be there, under the same sky looking up as you do.

#pac reading #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot #tarot reading #future spouse #pick a photo #pick a picture #soulmate #astrology #twinflame #manifesting #loassumption #franz kafka #letters to milena #literature #specific person #future love

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actual-changeling · 8 months

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Hi, you can call me Alex or whatever variation of my username you'd like. <3

I'm in my early twenties, use mainly they/them pronouns, and there is a lot wrong with my brain (both affectionately and in a decidedly not fun way). I have memory issues, so I can and will forget things, including replying to messages. You are ALWAYS invited to send me a reminder—please, please do, I will not be offended, pinky promise.

This blog is 90% fandom, 5% personal shit and 5% misc posts that I like. My inbox and DMs are open, so feel free to message me and interact however you like! If there's something you want me to see, I don't mind getting tagged in posts either.

Please don't be an asshole, and you can find my opinions/rules about discourse on my blog right here. I'm incredibly bad at judging my own tone, so if I come across as overly intense or upset, chances are I am actually not—I'm just passionate about the things I enjoy.

Mulder and Scully have taken over my brain and body, and I don't think they will leave me alone ever again.

I will be tagging spoilers for any newly released shows and episodes. If there is something you would like me to tag spoilers for, just shoot me an ask or dm!

Currently following and tagging for:

The X Files: alex watches x files

Doctor Who: alex watches doctor who, dw spoilers

(PJO The Series: pjo spoilers) show is on hiatus

The Magnus Protocols: alex listens to tmagp, tmagp spoilers

I write fanfiction both here on tumblr and on ao3 under actualchangeling. Requests or ideas are fine, though I cannot make any promises.

Wanna chat with other people about good omens? I have a discord you can join, mostly angelfish focused but we talk about all our beloved idiots.

My other misc current active special interests are Doctor Who and Good Omens, but I dabble in a lot of other fandoms, too. Among those are Marvel/Iron Man, Lucifer, TLOU, The Magnus Archives, Welcome to Night Vale, Prospect (2018), and many more.

My tag system for original posts applies to all fandoms I am currently actively engaging with and follows the same patterns. I tag spoilers when I remember to for about a week, so consider this blog to be very much NOT spoiler free.

alex talks x -> meta, analysis, interpretation, or opinion posts

alex writes x -> either self-promotion or tumblr specific ficlets, without any fandom addition it's original writing of some kind

Any personal posts that are not fandom related are tagged as following; feel free to block them if you're just here for the fandom madness!! I really do not mind.

alex yells at the void -> misc personal stuff

alex gets personal -> potentially triggering discussions of my trauma or mental health, vent posts

Last but not least, the tag for my queue is I’ll follow queue anywhere you go. It's a TLOU reference for those who are curious.

#pinned post

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bookishfeylin · 1 year

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Feel free to ignore if you're tired of hearing about this, but: your tags about SJM injecting real world morals into her stories and then ignoring them. Suddenly I am entirely clicking with where you are and from what point you're making your commentary. SJM is the one who chose to use modern concepts and buzz words for abuse and PTSD, and she is the one who chose to judge some characters by modern moral concepts but not others. That's what makes it so hard to do the usual analysis of characters, so I just don't. But you, if I understand you, are making your analyses to point out the flaws and holes in HER judgments. To show that SHE made it unbalanced and isn't playing by her own rules.

Yes, this is it exactly. I despise hypocrisy, and Sarah's books are unfortunately the pinnacle of such. The same standards that are used to judge Tamlin and Nesta would also render Feysand and co abusive, but the text (read: Sarah's favoritism) refuses to acknowledge that, doing a disservice to her own themes in the first place.

I also want to apologize in advance for the rant this is going to turn into, because man do I have FEELINGS about this.

Part of the reason the ACOTAR fandom is so toxic is because Mrs. Maas applied real world standards to a fantasy series, creating a conundrum where some characters are allowed to exist in and operate within a fantasy-based morality (like Rhysand, the Inner Circle, and Feyre) whilst others are held up to a stricter, real-world morality and are vehemently critiqued in text for failing to meet the moral standards of our world (Tamlin, Nesta, even Lucien), leaving fans of the latter group of characters to call out the hypocrisy in text for their characters being evaluated by standards that the former aren’t held to whilst fans of the former set of characters happily indulge in such hypocritical writing even while promoting this series as an excellent example of handling of real-world themes like abuse (and yes I did copy and paste this entire paragraph from another post of mine lol).

Some weeks back I saw someone on THAT SIDE of the fandom explain that they hated Tamlin because he abused Feyre (valid!) and pull out a picture of Sarah including the National Domestic Violence Hotline at the end of ACOFAS as evidence that liking him was morally wrong or whatever (I'd reblog the post, but OP is, again, on THAT SIDE of the fandom and sadly has me blocked now :( ).

But that same hotline is the one I've used in my analysis of why RHYSAND is abusive here, here, and here. The same source Sarah includes in these books to make a point about Tamlin being abusive also renders Rhysand abusive. But here's what gets me: The person and others like her who were reblogging that pic of the domestic violence hotline were also whining about people judging Rhysand by real world standards. Yes, I'm serious. For a topic like abuse, one deeply personal to me and many others, Sarah (and her fandom) can't pick and choose what characters to apply real world standards to. Not for something like this.

But we don't even have to use real world standards to call out the hypocrisy in how her characters were written--we can use ACOTAR's own morality as well. Case in point: Nesta's treatment in ACOSF. Locking Nesta up is treated as the right thing to do in ACOSF, but ACOMAF goes OUT OF ITS WAY to show that locking someone up is wrong and is a violation of your personal bodily autonomy, NO MATTER THE REASON. This action is often defended in one of two ways: by stans saying that Nesta was embarrassing Feysand when they needed to be keeping up appearances for the court, or, more commonly, because Nesta was an alcoholic. But neither reply holds water. If Nesta embarrassing Feysand in ACOSF was bad because they needed to keep up appearances as the court rebuilt and prepared for war with the mortal queens and Koschei, then... that justifies Tamlin getting upset with Feyre over the tithe several books earlier. That was his logic for being upset that Feyre gave the water wraith her jewelry, and also his logic for (according to fandom) "stuffing her in dresses"--keeping up appearances for the people and preventing Hybern from finding any weakness to exploit (again, this is according to fandom. In the books, the dresses were chosen by Ianthe but we both know no one pays attention and Tamlin is blamed for everything anyway). So either Tamlin was justified in ACOMAF, or Feysand are wrong. Nesta's alcoholism isn't a good excuse either, because if she were truly an alcoholic, Feysand would've put a healer in the House with her to help her through withdrawal and prevent her from having a seizure and dying, which I'll discuss in more detail in my upcoming post about Nesta. Either way, Feysand's treatment of Nesta was inexcusable by ACOTAR's own rules that say locking people up is bad, and in trying to excuse this some stans accidentally justify Tamlin's behavior in ACOMAF as he had the same excuses.

This also applies to the Inner Circle voting on whether or not to keep Nesta's powers a secret from her--didn't ACOMAF also say that that was bad and controlling on Tamlin's part? Why is Tamlin keeping Feyre's magic a secret abusive and controlling, but the Inner Circle deciding to do the same (even if it failed anyway) is fine?

The hypocrisy that began in ACOMAF in which Tamlin was declared abusive but Rhysand wasn't despite Rhysand... also being abusive spiraled out of control in ACOSF and is ultimately what fractured this fandom, and because of said hypocrisy nothing after ACOTAR 1 is enjoyable for me.

So yes. Beyond ACOTAR 1, I'm forced to evaluate the characters with the real-world morals Sarah decided to randomly include, and in doing so can't help but be faced by this series' own hypocrisy, and I'm hoping my analysis will allow others to see that the hypocrisy ultimately causes it to fold in on itself and destroys its own point.

#ask #acotar analysis #anti sjm #anti acotar #anti acomaf #anti acosf #i... i hope this made sense #im sorry for the long rant but i had some FEELINGS i needed to get out #anti rhysand

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steviewashere · 2 months

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Steddie Fic Recommendations Part 4!

Previous Recommendations: Part One Part Two Part Three

Okay, there's a lot of new people who follow me since I last did this. But I'm here to bring you some more recommendations! Last week, I did explicit only fics in anticipation for Valentine's Day (not that sex equals like love or whatever). There's no theme for this one, but I hope these reads treat you well!

Also, any Tumblr blogs that may be tagged, feel free to reach out for me to remove the tag. I have no qualms doing so!

As always, the tags and themes vary on all of these fics. Heed all tags, ratings, and archive warnings with caution.

it’s tactless, it’s a test (it’s just therese) by a_pleasure_to_burn

“Steve hasn't been the same since that night nearly a month ago when Eddie reinvented him in an Indianapolis drag club. A new piece of his puzzle has been added - or perhaps, it was there the entire time, embedded in Peggy Lee songs and navy blue dresses.

Or - Steve Harrington has a gender crisis on Eddie's floor. Cuddles and sweaters ensue.”

Chapters: 1/1, WC: 5,179, Rating: General no Archive Warnings Apply

Part of a Series: Steddie Drag Queen AU Canon Divergence AU Genderfluid/Genderqueer Steve Harrington

—————

2. The Only Living Ghost in New York by beetlesandstars @beetlesandstarss

“‘Eddie?’ Steve sounds sleep-rough even to his own ears. ‘What’s up, man? It’s like, midnight.’

‘I know, I know, sorry, just—’ Eddie takes a breath. ‘David proposed to me.’

Steve feels the world tilt on its axis. ‘Oh.’

‘Aren’t you gonna ask me what I said?’

Softly, Steve asks, ‘What did you say?’

‘I said yes.’

(Or, Steve and Eddie navigate their twenties together and apart. Eventually, something has to give.)”

Chapters: 1/1, WC: 8,065, Rating: Mature no Archive Warnings apply Modern Setting AU

—————

3. don’t you (forget about me) by brokenfandoms @steddiehyperfixation

“A scared and confused Eddie wakes up in the hospital missing 11 months of his memory, with no idea what landed him in there or why Steve Harrington is at his bedside holding his hand.

A devastated and heartbroken Steve wrestles with the unprecedented grief that comes from the realization that the man he loves no longer knows him.”

Chapters: 8/8, WC: 22, 305, Rating: Teen and Up no Archive Warnings apply Canon Divergence AU

—————

4. steve’s secret munson mixtape by everythingwasragtime

“Steve could play it cool during his shifts and hell, he’d even manage to distract himself whenever him and Robin were frolicking around town, getting Slurpees and talking about her love life. When he was alone was where the trouble started. He would hang his keys up on the hook next to the front door and the silence would immediately bombard him with echoes of ‘don’t ya, big boy?’ the very words that made his brain short circuit.

(In which Steve Harrington unknowingly begins to make a mixtape for whenever he finds himself thinking about a certain metalhead)”

Chapters: 16/16, WC: 35,000, Rating: Teen and Up without using Archive Warnings

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson

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kinnporschebigbang · 10 months

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Frequently Asked Questions

What is a Big Bang? - A Big Bang is a large scale writing event which functions as a collaboration between writers and artists.

How does it work? - The writer creates a fanfic which reaches a certain minimum word count (in this case 5000 words) over a set period of time. At the same time, they are paired with an artist, who in turn creates an artwork based off of the writers Big Bang submission. At the end of the writing period, all works are posted to Ao3 as part of the KPTS Big Bang 2023 Collection and everyone will be able to promote their works on social media .

Can I be writer and artist? - Sure! .

Can I use an existing WIP? - Sorry, but no. Unless your WIP is less than 25% of the minimum word count (1250 words) and has not been shared anywhere - the point is to challenge yourself within the time frame to create something new! .

Can I continue an existing series? - Sure! So long as the Big Bang piece can be read as a standalone (i.e. the reader does not need to read your other works in that series first) then you're welcome to write a sequel work! .

Can my friend and I request to be a pair? - Sorry, but no. The idea of the anonymous prompts is to encourage people to form new connections and meet new people - that said, you may wind up being assigned to your friend by chance, but please keep your prompts secret from everyone until after the claiming period is finished so as to keep things fair .

What kind of art can I create? - Said the farmer to the pig, go ham! Create whatever you like! So long as you are able to upload it during the posting period .

Can I share snippets to my social media? - We would ask that both writers and artists keep things under wraps until the posting period .

Are there any limits as to content warnings/pairings/RPF? - Not at all! Post whatever you'd like, just make to sure to tag everything clearly and correctly. If you need help tagging just give us a shout!

What about crossovers/fusions? - Feel free to write any kind of crossover you like, so long as the Kinnporsche characters are the main focus of the work

What are the Check-In periods? - These are very simple, they're just us checking in with people at the 25%/50%/75% markers to make sure everyone is chugging along and are able to stay on track for the end date. If you feel you are struggling or falling behind, send us a message! Remember, this is meant to be fun, and it's no fun for anyone if they have to make themselves suffer just to participate ❤️

I don't have an Ao3 account, what do I do? - Apply for your account as soon as possible. It can take up to a couple of weeks for your invitation to arrive, so the sooner the better!

What do I do with the artists piece? - Post it at the end of your fic when you upload it to Ao3, and link to the artists post on their socials

What do I do with the writers piece? - Post the link to it on your socials!

I'm not going to be finished in time, what do I do? - Don't stress! Send us a message and we'll work out something with you. This can be arranging a pinch-hitter who can help you with writing, arranging an extended deadline - listen, stuff happens and life gets in the way, it happens all the time. I promise you are not going to be yelled at for needing extra time ❤️

My writer/artist seems to have vanished off the face of the earth - Have you checked the moon? If they're not chilling in the lunar orbit, send us a message and we will do our utmost to contact them. If we cannot get a hold of your space-faring partner, we will do our best to arrange a new partner for you.

How do I post an image on Ao3? - Great question! It involves setting up a new work skin, which sounds terrifying but there is an excellent step by step guide here: https://hjbender.tumblr.com/post/189464019184/how-to-post-an-image-on-ao3#:~:text=Put%20your%20cursor%20where%20you,then%20enter%20an%20image%20description. The best part? Once you have this skin set up on your Ao3 account, it's yours forever! Set it up once and you will be able to keep using it

How should I tag my artist on Ao3? - Insert the text shown in the screenshot below into the Ao3 text box and it should show up as a hyperlink containing the words you put between the ><. The URL goes between the " ".

I recommend when you set up your skin to post a test work containing a test image and a random link so that you're not under pressure on your posting day. When posting, make sure the URL does not have any spaces, but whatever text you use between the > < should allow spaces

What are all these acronyms/terms? - If you are new to fandom spaces or some of the terminology regarding fanfiction, then simply drop us a message or see if it's listed below:

WIP - Work in Progress

Rec - short for Recommendation (check out ⁠fic-recs!)

Ao3 - Archive Of Our Own (AOOO, Ao3 for short! This is where you'll be posting your fic)

RPF - Real People/Person Fanfic (eg. Shipping Mile and Apo rather than Kinn and Porsche)

Sprint - a writing sprint, available in the ⁠sprints-channel (you'll need the @writer role). This is a short, timed event you can run at any time (provided there isn't one in progress) in which you set a timer to see how many words you can write within the set time period. You are welcome to use this for your non-Big Bang works as well!

KPTSBB - Kinnporsche: The Series Big Bang

KPBB - Kinnporsche Big Bang

Beta - Someone who helps out by reading over your work and providing feedback/helping with edits, etc. If you need help reading over your work then you can tag beta to see if anyone is available, or else message any tag moderator and we'll get you set up with a beta

Pinch Hitter - Someone who can step in nearer the final deadline to help out if you're struggling to meet the minimum word count and feel you won't be finished in time. Message any @moderator and we'll do our best to help you out, see above FAQ for more info

Again, the best place to stay in contact with both us and your fellow participants is on the KPTS Big Bang Discord server!

Now featuring our wonderful new banner made by the amazing @suzteel!

#kinnporsche big bang #kpts big bang #kp big bang #kinnporsche #kinnporsche fic #vegaspete #vegaspete fic #kimchay #kimchay fic

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verladyweek · 3 months

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VXLENTINE'S DAY 2024: Bridging the Distance

A wonderful good day to you, Verlady nation! We are back with some information about the upcoming VXLENTINE'S DAY - a day to spread some love and share thoughts and fanworks that focus on Vergil and Lady.

What is VXLENTINE'S DAY?

VXLENTINE'S DAY is a celebration dedicated to the platonic, romantic or sexual relationship between Vergil and Lady from the Devil May Cry series. VXLENTINE'S DAY will start on February 14th, but late submissions to the tag #vxlentine will be shared by this blog until March 14th. All Verlady Week submission rules apply to fanworks shared during this celebration.

How can I participate?

There are lots of ways to participate in this year's VXLENTINE'S DAY celebration!

Create and share a fanwork based on this year's theme: Bridging the Distance.

Share a snippet or preview of a project you are working on - future contributions to Verlady Week are welcome and allowed to be shared!

Send a message to this blog and rec your favourite fanwork! All submissions will be compiled in a community's pick rec list - a virtual box of chocolates, if you will, of your favourite creations to easily share with others and hopefully delight your day as you maybe even discover new fanworks to shower in love! (Please include a link to the fanwork!)

Send in a short (up to 4 lines) love letter, note, quote or poem and receive a Valentine's graphic! (Submissions can be romantic, funny, sad, whatever comes to mind when you think of Vergil and Lady.)

Submission deadline for recs and Valentine's graphic texts is February 9th. Please post your creations and previews sometime between February 14th and March 14th and use the tag #vxlentine or feel free tag @verladyweek to make sure your post will be seen and shared by this blog!

All submissions can be sent in anonymously if you'd prefer not to be credited in the rec list and/or Valentine's graphics.

A fanwork, in the context of this celebration, includes anything and everything you can think of: fanart, fanfiction, AMVs, collages, moodboards, meta posts, headcanons, memes, and probably many more ways to express your love for Vergil and Lady that I cannot think of right now. If love is stored in it and you or someone else made it, then it is a fanwork.

#vergil x lady #verlady #devil may cry #dmc #dmc fanfiction #dmc fanart #lady/vergil #verladyweek #vxlentine #vxlentine's day

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bellaxgiornata · 10 months

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Life Worth Living [Chapter Three]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Original Female Character

[You can find the full summary and chapter list for this series here]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains fluff, angst, violence, PTSD, smut (Contains our beloved Defenders and lots of plot twists)

Word Count: 4.5k

a/n: Posting one last one for this series for now! Feel free to leave feedback so I know how interested y'all are in more of this one because it's a bit of an undertaking to transfer full series to tumblr!

Heading back to the couch with my first aid kit in one hand and a soapy, wet washcloth in the other, I eyed Matt from the corner of my eye. He was fairly relaxed, leaning against the back of the couch and waiting patiently for my return. When I set the first aid kit down onto the coffee table I hesitated, eyeing the spot beside Matt before forcing myself to just sit down beside him. I’d already offered my help bandaging his cut, I was going to have to touch him. Sitting near him on the couch was sort of unavoidable, too.

Licking my lips, I fidgeted with the wet cloth in my hands. “I’ll need to clean the cut out first.”

Matt leant forward, his elbows resting against his knees as he turned his head towards the coffee table, giving me easier access to the cut.

“Do whatever you need to,” his deep voice told me.

My jaw clenched at his words and the heat it drew to my cheeks. His mouth tugged up into a slight smirk, almost as if he could see the reaction he’d just had on me. I shook my head lightly, shaking out any inappropriate thoughts.

Don’t make this weird, Olivia.

Very gently, I grabbed his chin in one hand and tilted his head at the angle I needed, trying hard not to focus too much on the rough stubble and warm skin beneath my fingers as I did. Releasing his chin, I focused that hand higher on his head, brushing away the soft brown hair from his temple and holding it out of my way. Matt’s eyes fluttered closed at my touch, slightly leaning into my hand. I paused for a moment at the subtle movement, trying to control my breathing. Letting out a slow exhale, I began carefully washing the cut with the cloth.

“So you know I’m a lawyer,” Matt said, breaking the silence. “What is it you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”

I tried to keep my focus on cleaning out his cut, trying hard to ignore the way his shoulder brushed against my arm as he adjusted his position on the couch a bit.

“I’m a programmer,” I answered him. “Nothing exciting; I create programs for companies to help with data storage among other boring things.”

“What uh…what made you choose that?” he asked curiously.

I pulled the cloth away from the now cleaned cut, removing my hand from his hair and watching as it fell forward, stopping just before his injury. It wasn’t a deep cut; nothing remotely serious. Something I could have easily helped him with in another way if that wasn’t sure to send him running from my apartment.

“I don’t know exactly,” I admitted as I set the cloth on the cover of the first aid kit, my fingers rifling inside for some ointment. “I guess I liked the idea of creating things,” I told him. “And programmers, in the right company, can make a decent living–though New York City is still expensive,” I said with a slight laugh, causing Matt to chuckle in agreement. “And…working from home was appealing, I suppose.” I opened the ointment, putting a little on my finger before closing the cap and setting it back into the kit. Then I turned my attention back on Matt, gingerly sliding the hair away again as I applied the ointment to his wound. “I like the quiet. And being in my own space,” I continued as I turned back to the coffee table, wiping off the excess ointment from my fingers on the washcloth before searching for a bandage that would work. “I’m not a big fan of being around too many people, so working in an office, with co-workers and bosses always hovering…that just sounded awful.” I grabbed the appropriate bandage and began peeling the protective coverings off. “And I can work from anywhere, too. If I want to just move to a new city or a new state even, my bosses don’t care. I can even take long vacations if I want since I can work from anywhere as long as I have internet access. It’s…freeing, not feeling…stuck in one place.”

Suddenly I paused, my face heating up as my hands hovered just over his face. My eyes widened as I realized I’d been rambling.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, the apology coming out rushed. “I tend to babble to avoid awkward silence when I’m nervous.”

“No, don’t apologize,” Matt said, a smile fighting its way onto his lips. “I like listening to your voice. It’s…soothing.”

“Oh…uhm, thanks?” I let out a nervous laugh, my stomach twisting into knots. “I’ve uh, never been told that before.”

I focused hard on applying the bandage to his cut, willing my hands not to shake so much. Once I got the bandage in place, I smoothed it out across his temple before leaning backwards on the couch, my hands dropping into my lap.

“All done,” I informed him, my voice coming out quieter than I’d intended.

Matt turned on the couch, positioning himself towards me better. He smiled warmly in my direction, his eyes focused just somewhere above my left shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate the middle of the night medical care.”

I bit my lip, laughing softly. “Well I appreciate the middle of the night safety check-in.”

Matt snorted a laugh in response as he reached a hand out, finding my knee and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Anytime,” he said, a charming smile spreading across his lips. “But I should probably let you get back to sleep.”

I sighed slowly, glancing down at my hands in my lap. “Right,” I said half-heartedly.

Matt’s head tilted at my response, his brows furrowing together as the smile left his face.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

I shook my head, knowing he couldn’t see the gesture as I dug my thumbnail into the fabric of my sweatpants, toying with the cloth nervously.

“No, I…,” I began, pausing for a moment as I repeatedly fidgeted with the fabric of my pants. “I just don’t think I’ll be getting back to sleep anytime soon. After…everything.” I bit my lip nervously, chewing it for a moment. “I’ve got some broken glass to clean up anyway.”

Matt sat straighter against the couch now, a frown crossing his lips. “Broken glass?”

An awkward laugh escaped me briefly, the sound humorless. “I broke my lamp, if you remember me saying that a bit ago. Haven’t had a chance to clean that up.”

“Would you like some help?” Matt offered.

My eyes went wide as I focused my attention back on him, quickly shaking my head. “No, no that’s alright,” I told him in a rush. “I’m not going to keep you any longer. I just…didn’t feel right letting you go back to your apartment with a bleeding cut on your head.”

A moment of silence passed between us. I continued to awkwardly fidget with the fabric of my sweatpants between my fingers as Matt appeared to be in thought.

“If…if it would make you feel more comfortable,” Matt began hesitantly, “I can stay for a bit? Keep you company?”

My mouth opened and closed a few times but no sound came out. Had he really just offered that? There was no way I could say yes to that, I would sound childish–having a nightmare and not wanting to be alone. How would that make me look to him? A grown woman afraid to be in her own apartment at night, afraid of the dark and what lurked in her dreams?

“Honestly, I don’t mind,” Matt continued. “I can go into the office a bit later tomorrow morning if I need to. That’s the beauty of working for yourself,” he said with a grin. “I really don’t mind. It would actually make me feel better. If I’m not intruding, of course.” He cleared his throat, and I swore I saw a tinge of pink rise on his cheeks. “And I…I'm finding I enjoy your company.”

Chewing the inside of my cheek for a moment, I considered his offer, trying hard not to focus on the last thing he’d said. I really didn’t want to be alone, and he was offering–quite persistently for him to not really mean it.

“If you’d like,” I answered him slowly. “And if it really won’t affect you having to work tomorrow. I would feel awful if I was the cause of you being tired all day.”

“Really,” Matt said, settling back into the couch. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay, I’m just going to grab the broken bits of my lamp and toss them,” I told him as I rose from the couch. “There’s like three pieces, it shouldn’t take me more than a moment.”

“I’ll be fine right here, unless you’d like some help?”

“No, it’s not a big deal,” I said sheepishly. “I’ll just be a moment.”

I hurried down the hall to my bedroom. My sheets were still half thrown on the floor from where I’d woken in a fit. I rushed over to the side of my bed and collected the broken lamp, careful not to cut myself on the glass as I did. Satisfied I’d grabbed all of the pieces, I headed back down the hallway, blushing as Matt smiled when he heard me.

“So you said you don’t particularly enjoy being around a lot of people,” Matt called out as I headed into the kitchen. “Can I ask what drew you to the city then? Seems…not the best place for you if that’s the case.”

I tossed the lamp into the garbage before glancing at him on the couch. His arm was thrown over the back of it and his head was turned slightly towards where I was in the kitchen. I smiled softly at the sight of him sitting there.

“I don’t,” I admitted. “Like being around a lot of people, that is. But I lived in Anchorage, Alaska for a few years before I came here. I wanted a change. Not that Anchorage is quiet, it’s actually the most populated city in Alaska, but it’s…isolated. Everything there sort of is. It’s kind of what drew me there initially.” I cleared my throat, as I walked into the kitchen, opening a cabinet and pulling some glasses down. “I haven’t done much grocery shopping yet, so my hostess options are limited, but would you like some water?”

“Yes, thank you,” Matt answered.

Brief silence followed as I filled up two cups of water and headed back towards the couch. Matt held his hand out and I gently handed him the cup of water. He took a drink at the same time I did.

“The coffee table is about a foot and a half in front of you,” I murmured. “If you’d like to set the glass down.”

“Thank you,” Matt said, smiling lightly as he leaned forward to do just that. As he leaned back against the couch, he curiously asked, “What was Alaska like? I've never left the city.”

I smiled, glancing down at the cup in my hands and fiddling with the condensation on the glass. My mind’s eye recalled the place I’d spent quite a few years calling home; part of me missed it already.

“It was…beautiful,” I said, voice quiet, almost reverent. “I’d been traveling briefly right before having moved there,” I told him, fighting hard to keep the memories attached to that buried deep. “But I’d never seen any place like it. The mountains are just…massive. They tower behind Anchorage and all the buildings and houses there. Just always in the distance, always standing so tall; I’d never seen anything quite like them before. And the forests…” My voice trailed off as my eyes closed, remembering the forests. “They’re wild. There’s so many trails there to hike. So many different types of spruce trees, cedars, and birches. Moss literally coats every inch of the forest ground. It’s just… so green . So much life everywhere. You could look up and spot bald eagles or magpies; moose and their young always on the side of the roads or cutting through backyards in the city.” I smiled as a memory surfaced and I told him, “I’d run into one on a trail once. It was a trail I always ran on in the city; I was definitely lucky she didn’t charge me because they’re massive in person.”

Matt chuckled at my words and as I opened my eyes, I noticed he’d closed his at some point. A small smile passed my lips as I continued.

“There’s bears everywhere too–black and brown. You have to wear bells when you hike and carry bear mace, just in case. And when you travel out towards the ocean, the shoreline isn’t sand, it’s just these beautiful black river rocks. They’re uncomfortable to walk on, but there’s just so many that it’s…incredible,” I told him, glancing down at my hands holding the glass of water in my lap. “Sometimes you can see the whales breaching the water. Or otters swimming with their young. Seals sunbathing on the shore–and for the record, they smell very bad. Like shit and rotting fish." Matt laughed along with me, his head leaning towards me, eyes still closed. “In the summer, the sun never really sets. It could be eleven at night and it perpetually looks like the sun is just about to go down, but it never does.” I sighed, picturing summers in Anchorage. “There’s this flower called fireweed; it’s everywhere, blanketing the grasses in bright pink like the ground is on fire. There’s so many of them that you can smell it in the air.” I laughed lightly. “And the air is definitely cleaner there. That’s for sure.”

I paused, taking in the look of peace on his face. Slowly his eyelids fluttered open, his head turning towards me and his eyes almost catching mine.

“You paint a beautiful picture,” he said quietly. “It sounds like you loved it there.”

I exhaled slowly, nodding my head. “I did,” I told him. “I loved hiking the trails. Even learning to do a bit of mountain climbing. I never got into the fishing or hunting out there though–not really into the idea of killing things," I said, a shiver running down my spine as I continued on, pushing more memories farther back. "I visited some glaciers and even tried foraging. I tried hard to start a life out there but I was just…lonely.”

“So you moved here?” Matt asked.

“So I moved here,” I agreed.

“And are you feeling less lonely?” he asked me curiously.

I smiled softly in response, capturing my bottom lip between my teeth as I eyed him. “Well, I’ve been here a week and made a few friends already. So, I’d say so.”

A warm smile crossed Matt’s face, his eyes creasing at the corners. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Whether it was the lack of sleep and early hour, or the look on his handsome face, I suddenly found myself blurting out, “I prefer talking to you without the glasses.” And when I realized what I said, I grimaced, slapping a hand to my face and groaning audibly. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled out behind my hand, hearing Matt laugh at my words. “That is probably such an incredibly rude thing to say.”

“No,” Matt said between a chuckle. “Not at all. Most people find my eyes unsettling.”

My hand quickly slid from my face, my jaw dropping. “What?” I asked him incredulously.

He lifted a hand, gesturing at his eyes. “I’ve been told they make people uncomfortable so I wear the glasses.”

“Wow, who would be such an asshole to even feel that way, let alone say that to you?” I asked in disbelief.

He shook his head. “You’d be surprised. But actually, you’ve been far from rude. Most people ask me about my blindness. Whether I was born this way or what happened. You…haven’t. It's sort of a first.”

"I mean, that seems pretty rude to just ask someone," I told him before taking a sip of water. As I set the glass onto the coffee table I added, "It's not like that's all there is to you."

He smiled, a look crossing his face that I couldn't quite place.

"You're very right," he said gently. His hands fidgeted in his lap for a moment before he spoke again. "You know I'm expected to say I don't miss my sight; I wasn't born blind. There was an accident that caused it," he told me. "But I would love to see the sun rise again." He turned towards me further, his knees brushing against mine as he did. "Or the sun that never sets in Alaska."

I felt my face flush not for the first time this morning at his words. Nervously I pushed a strand of hair behind my ears, my breath coming in short.

"I think Foggy is wrong," I joked, my voice a little breathless. "Pretty sure your super power is flirting."

Matt barked a laugh at my words, the deep sound rumbling brightly through my living room.

"He may have mentioned you said I'm a flirt and not your type because of it," Matt countered.

"I'm sure you've got plenty of other options," I teased him lightly.

"Oh, and why is that, would you say?" he teased back with raised brows and a boyish grin on his face.

I rolled my eyes, raising a hand to my burning cheeks. "You're an attractive man, Mr. Murdock. And you're quite good at being charming."

He leaned towards me on the couch just a bit, the grin still on his face. "But not quite good enough to tempt you?" he mused.

I pulled my legs up onto the couch, crossing them in front of me as I tried to steady my racing heart.

"I don't…really date," I told him awkwardly. "Certainly not someone with wandering eyes."

The moment it came out, I clapped a hand over my mouth. Matt burst into a laugh again, his hand reaching out and resting gently against my knee as he did.

"I didn't mean it like that," I whined out behind my hand. My cheeks reddened further in embarrassment. "I meant I don't like guys who are always looking for something better."

"I know what you meant," Matt told me, his hand squeezing my knee. "Poor choice of words, I get it. It happens often around me." He cleared his throat, the toothy smile still on his face as he stared somewhere around my mouth. "But for the record, I'm not that kind of guy."

From behind my hand that I was trying to embarrassingly hide behind, I asked out, "Were you not just out late last night on a date? And now you're here, just one night later, flirting on my couch?"

Matt's smile faltered at my words. He opened his mouth to answer, but quickly closed it again. He was clearly frustrated, wanting to say something but for some reason not able to. Eventually he exhaled deeply before answering.

"I was on a date last night, yes," he responded slowly, carefully answering me. "But nothing happened. Despite what I let Foggy think, I don't actually sleep around. And I don't go on that many dates." He cleared his throat, scratching his forehead for a moment. "And if I was interested in someone, my eyes wouldn't be wandering for any other reason besides the fact that I'm blind and can't help it."

A laugh bubbled up and I buried my face in my hands again. When I looked up, Matt was grinning back at me.

"You did not just make that joke!"

Matt shrugged in response. "Just trying to get you to stop being so embarrassed by it. I'm not insulted, I promise."

"Fine," I groaned, letting my hands fall back into my lap. "I'll try to let it go."

He relaxed back into the sofa and I watched him quietly.

"What would you be doing if I hadn't shown up?" he suddenly asked me.

My eyes crossed the room and landed on the TV.

"Probably would throw something on television to zone out to. Something that wouldn't be triggering," I answered him softly.

His head tilted and he smiled softly. "Feel free to put something on, if you like."

I bit my lip, chewing it thoughtfully in the silence. Matt seemed to pick up on my struggle.

"I can listen to whatever you’d like if you would like me to stay," he told me.

"You can stay," I said slowly. "But I don't really know what I'd put on."

He licked his lips, looking at me curiously. "What were you watching earlier?"

My head ducked quickly down and I laughed awkwardly. I ran my hand through my hair a few times before I admitted, "One of those really horrible Christmas romance movies…one of the least nightmare inducing things I could think of." I paused before mumbling, "Didn't seem to work though."

Matt openly tried to stifle his laugh at my admission and I frowned.

"They're a guilty pleasure to those of us lonely, nearing middle-age and middle-aged women," I said defensively, pointing a finger at him.

He held up his hands in mock surrender, fighting back the smile on his face and doing a terrible job at it.

"I'm sorry," he teased, not sounding too sorry. "I just didn't peg you as the type to watch those."

I rolled my eyes before burying my face in my hands, entirely embarrassed now.

"Maybe I should have sent you home bleeding," I grumbled into my hands.

I felt his weight shift on the couch and I stiffened momentarily as I felt his hand rest on my shoulder. When I glanced up, pulling my face from my hands, Matt had a serious expression on his face. All traces of his previous laughter now gone.

"Olivia," he said, tone as serious as his face, "please put on whatever terrible, romantic Christmas movie that is playing right now. I'd be happy to watch it with you." He paused, a playful smirk breaking his serious composure suddenly. "Or listen to it, in my case."

I frowned at him across the small space between us on the couch. The weight of his hand became very apparent on my shoulder and I tried to ignore it. Instead, I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to gauge if he was serious. As if he could read my thoughts he spoke again.

"I'm being serious," he said, sliding his hand down my shoulder, down the length of my arm before he gently brushed his fingers over my knuckles. I shivered at his touch. "I apologize for laughing before."

A small grin spread across my face. "I mean, they are truly bad. Entirely unrealistic. But I…enjoy them. Better than the news, which always seems so grim lately."

"Please introduce me to this…genre of Christmas movie," Matt teasingly pleaded.

I let out a deep sigh before leaning forward and picking up the remote from my coffee table.

"If you insist, Matt," I joked as I turned on the TV.

It took a moment for the TV to turn on, but when it did I immediately recognized which movie was playing. A very unlady-like snort of amusement escaped me before I could stop it.

"What?"

"I've seen this one before; it looks like it's a few minutes in," I informed him.

He settled in closer beside me, his shoulder and leg brushing up against the side of me. I grabbed the soft, dark green blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over both of our legs. Matt adjusted it on himself, somehow scooting closer to me. I noticed he smiled softly as his fingers slid over the blanket a few times.

I focused on the movie, but after a few minutes I felt Matt shift beside me. His mouth was suddenly beside my ear, warm breath tickling my skin. I could feel the goosebumps rise on my arms before he spoke.

"So what is this one about?" he asked, voice just above a whisper.

I swallowed hard at how close his face now was to me, his head tilted just slightly towards the television as his breath fell over the side of my face. I could feel the warmth radiating from him. The faint smell of cedar and clove was now noticeable at this proximity. If I turned my head, my lips would brush against the warm stubble on his cheek and that thought alone suddenly sent my heart hammering in my chest.

Matt's head turned just a fraction towards me, almost instinctively as if he could tell what he was doing to me. His tongue darted along his lips again, a habit I noticed he did often, one I internally cursed for its ability to make me aware of his lips more than I should be.

"Olivia?" he asked, his voice much quieter now.

I exhaled a shaky breath as quietly as I could. I noticed how Matt suddenly tensed beside me, his jaw clenching.

"It's about this lawyer who is trying to get a historic and supposedly haunted inn sold," I told him, trying to remember the plot as I became even more aware of his thigh resting against mine under the blanket. "And this ghost comes alive every year twelve days before Christmas. She ends up falling in love with the ghost."

Matt twisted beside me, his eyebrows shooting up on his forehead. "A ghost? She falls for a ghost?"

"Better than a mannequin " I quipped, heart steadying a bit as I focused on his utter disbelief.

"You've got to be kidding," he deadpanned.

I smiled and shook my head. "Not at all."

"So how does it end? She falls for a living man?" he questioned. "Please tell me she does."

I grinned at him. "You know nothing about this genre of Christmas movie, Matt Murdock."

He scoffed and shook his head. "He returns to life, doesn't he?"

I nudged his shoulder with my own. "Maybe…"

Matt snorted. " How ? He's dead!"

I shrugged, my shoulder brushing against Matt's muscular arm as I did. "Christmas magic, of course."

Matt chuckled, the movement jostling me beside him. "Oh, right. Of course."

"We don't have to watch it…" I offered, turning my head towards him.

He slung his arm on the back of the couch behind me, his hand resting so close that his fingertips almost brushed my shoulder. He shot me a small grin and shook his head.

"Nah, I'm good," he said. "But I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to Foggy."

"Your secret is safe with me, Murdock," I joked.

“Oh, is it?” he teased.

He didn't say anything further, his face returning towards the direction of the screen; but I spent the following fifteen minutes trying to decipher what the devilish smirk on his face meant.

#matt murdock x ofc #matt murdock #matt murdock fluff #daredevil x oc #daredevil #matt murdock fic

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 1 year

Text

A Voice Through the Nothingness Part 3

Series Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Contains: Angst, fluff, protective Frank, descriptions of past domestic violence, hurt/comfort.

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings apply and are added as needed. Do not keep reading if you feel the subject matter of this work may upset you.

3.8 K words

Comment if you want to be tagged or follow #a voice through the nothingness.

There is a crack, a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in -Leonard Cohen

The noise in Billy's new room was a blessing and a curse, a blessing because he knew he was slowly wading through his quagmire brain to reach the surface and a curse because there was never much peace to focus on his mind on his next goal.

They had only moved him yesterday, just days after Hazel told him it would happen. All his friends were there and he had hung on every word of their descriptions. There was a couch big enough for someone to lie on and Frank laughed about finally being able to spend the night without fucking up his back.

He wanted to smile as Curt detailed the view outside the huge window on the far wall, how the courtyard below was lush with grass and birds tweeting. But something that Hazel said struck him as strange, she had mentioned that she made sure he got a room where he could see all the windows and doors when he was awake. It's not that he wasn't appreciative that she had taken his hypervigilant mind into consideration, it was that she knew to do it at all.

Right now, the sound of the birds outside said window was driving him insane, had his eyes been open, the migraine would have been blinding. Mercifully Lizabeth knew him enough to know something was wrong and had put off his physio session that day so now all he had to do was hold on long enough for Hazel's visit because he knew she'd be able to fix whatever was going on with him right now.

He was close to losing it when Hazel finally arrived, the pounding in his head making him feel trapped in a tank while someone let off a machine gun. The worry in her voice was evident as she sat with him, "are you alright, you're grimacing?"

Head

Billy's tapping was getting faster now, not so fast that he could hold a normal conversation but faster enough to get by, "you're head is hurting?"

He clenched his fist around her hand, "is it the noise?" He squeezed his hand again and she hopped up to close the door. He heard her pause in the middle of the room as she returned to the bed, "I'm going to shut the curtains, we'll see if that helps too."

The sound of the curtains closing sounded like nails down a chalkboard but the relief that came after was worth it. Billy wished he could hug her when as she sat back down and the banging faded to a dull ache, "I know it sucks right now but this is really good. Your eyes finally realise that there's light around and your brain doesn't know what to do with that yet, so your eyes are straining, making your head ache."

That made a lot of sense, the ache behind his eyes had reminded him of how he felt after a day in the unforgiving desert sun, "I waved Lizzy over to come in with some meds and some eyedrops, that should really help. You need anything else?"

Billy wanted to rub the tension from his face, do the same thing he had done a million times over his life but couldn't lift his hand more than an inch. He felt strange asking Hazel to help but he knew she wouldn't care.

Rub face

"Ok, I can do that for you if you like?" He squeezed her hand again and she laughed at the force behind it, "alright, I hear you loud and clear, I'm just going to put some cream on my hands."

When Hazel returned, the all familiar smell of basic, fragrance free hand lotion filled Billy's nose and her hands landed on his face. Her fingers gently pressed his temples while her thumbs softly pressed his cheeks and he could have cried from the relief he felt.

It compounded when Lizabeth entered a few minutes later, "thank fuck you're thinking on your feet, fucking student nurses."

Hazel huffed, "it's not my fault they send the worst ones here, mine are a dream."

"You know Russo, she isn't the saint you think she is." Billy wanted to laugh, the more Hazel talked about herself, the more of her personality was slowly bleeding through, he knew she had some fire in her.

"I'm an angel." The hands rubbing the pain out of his face almost made him agree.

"Sure you are," Lizzy turned her attention to Billy, "this stuff should make you feel much better and I'll put a note on your door to leave everything closed until your eyes adjust."

He felt a gloved hand on his IV then felt something cool hit his eyes, the last of his pain fading as Hazel's voice filled his ears, "I'll stay with you until I have to go home."

****

The next time Billy awoke, Curtis was there reading him the newspaper. His face felt lighter and his eyes fluttered open without thought. Everything was very blurry but he could see Curt's shape in the chair, "shit man, I'll go get a nurse."

Curtis' body moved and he was left staring at the mottled blur that was the chair back. Billy tried to blink away the rough edges into clear outlines but each blink just made his eyes feel like they were filled with sandpaper.

When Curt returned with Lizzy in tow, "I'll get the doc, this is real good news Curt." Billy could tell Lizabeth was holding back her excitement.

When Curtis sat down again, Billy could make out his form more clearly, his hair looked longer and his face, while marred with worry, didn't hold the same tiredness as it used to.

When Billy tried to say something, all that came out was a harsh whisper and Curt held up a hand, "don't try and talk man, wait till the doc gets here."

Billy had so much to say, his thoughts were racing again. He thought about the typical stuff, asking Curt about how life had been and if Anvil was going well, there was only so much he could know when he could reply. But the biggest question on his mind was how he got here?"

****

Knock knock

"Yeah."

Hazel opened the door only to be greeted by just Frank and Curtis, "where's Billy?"

Frank smiled, "Liz didn't tell you?"

Hazel shook her head, "she's taking one of her patients to the OR, you didn't answer my question."

Curtis huffed and slapped Frank on the chest, "Billy woke up about an hour ago, they've taken him for some tests. I've been trying to explain them to Frank, I could use some help."

Her eyebrows wrinkled, Curt never had any problems explaining Billy's recovery until now, "sure, I don't see why not."

Hazel sat at the small table in the corner in between Frank and Curt and pulled a penguin notepad and pen out of one of her many scrub pockets and drew a rough brain surrounded by layers and went on the explain how Billy woke up, going through the layers by drawing a figure next to each circle.

"Now that his eyes are open, he's awake fully so they have to take him for tests to examine his ability to function. The most important is the swallow test and if he does well on that, they'll slowly take him off the feeding tube. After that, they'll do some other simple test to see what's going on in his brain and to try and see the full extent of the TBI." Curt was happy that Hazel knew what she was talking about.

"When will he start to talk?" Frank's anxiety was platable.

"Likely in the next few hours to days, especially if he's swallowing ok but like everything else, it will take time and his voice will be pretty rough for a while. They'll test his vision too and if that's intact, he should be back to normal by tonight." Hazel's voice was measured, Frank didn't like that.

"What are you not telling us?"

Curt shot Frank a look as if to tell him to calm down, "I'm sure they told you Billy's reaction to being questioned about the night he was injured?" They both nodded, "once he can talk, his psychological recovery will start, and it will be rough. His brain is likely suppressing all the memories so he can heal, and that will change. He'll probably have night terrors and flashbacks."

Curt rubbed his face, "you've got shrinks don't you?"

Hazel gave him a soft smile, "yes, they'll either put him with Dr Charles or Dr Mercer, and both are amazing. I work closely with both of them, and since I'm sensing some personal disclosure here might be good, I see Dr Charles once a month. They have my complete confidence but he'll need you guys too. He's about to go through some pretty humiliating shit, both literally and figuratively, he needs to know you don't care about any of it."

Frank sighed, "and his face?"

Hazel blinked, "I don't know, the kids I work with facial injuries have had wildly different reactions. I imagine he'll ask the moment he has the chance since he'll be able to feel that something is different but the rest will be up to the physiatrist and Billy."

She sighed, "it's going to be a very long road and things will not be easy. You guys have to ready yourself for the worst of it, as his muscles start to work again, there will be times were he's in so much pain he's screaming, and he will say shit that will cut you to the bone if you're the one who picked up the rehab shift, you just gotta let go."

Curt laid his hand on her forearm, "thank you Hazel, really, we're all very grateful for everything you've done for Bill."

She gave him a soft smile, "I know. I have to get back to work now but I'll be back in the afternoon for my normal visit."

Frank flashed her a smile, "great, Karen will be here too, she's finally finished with her latest story, I'm sure she'll be happy to hear this from you."

Hazel nodded, "I'm happy to answer any questions anyone has." With that, she left, leaving Frank and Curtis alone.

"You gotta go easy on her man, you really think Billy would be awake now if she hadn't say with him everyday we weren't here?" Curt thought Frank was over his protective streak.

Frank groaned, "I want to but she's hiding something."

Curt huffed, "so do a background check on her, if you were really worried you would have done it already."

Frank's jaw clenched, "you don't think I should wait and ask Bill?"

Curt crossed his arms over his chest, "we both know you'll go ahead with it even if he says no."

Frank let out a chuckle, "Don't you know it."

****

Billy was in much better spirits when he returned from all his tests, he looked tired but proud, "how did it go Bill?"

Frank's question was met with a slight smile, "good."

Frank made a face, "you sound like you've been garling rocks."

"Frank, he just woke up from a coma." Curt's voice lacked something and Billy was a bit worried.

"What?" Even freshly awake, Billy could still read his friends.

"Frank wants to do a background check on your nurse friend, he's doing it whether you want it or not so now's the time to say something."

Frank glared at Curt, "I just want to know it she's all above board, that's all. I don't plan to poke too much."

"Her last name's Moreau." Billy sounded conflicted, "she's a good person."

Curt rubbed his face, "let's not talk about this now. Let Frank run his check and if something comes up we'll deal with it."

Billy smiled, "thanks Curt."

****

Billy was overjoyed to finally be speaking to his friends, sure it was hard and it felt like he was swallowing razor blades but it was worth every second, even more so when he heard Hazel's footsteps approach.

He turned his head slowly towards the door and took in her blurry frame, "hi."

As he walked close, he could see the grin on her face, "hello Billy, how are you feeling?"

He shot her a smile, "sore."

She shook her head fondly, "that's par for the course, how's your vision?"

"I don't know, are you as pretty as I think you are."

Hazel suppressed a smile, "oh, the nurses are going to love you. You should save your voice, if you're not careful you'll end up straining it and you've been cleared to drink thickened fluids so I expect you to be well hydrated at all times."

Curt laughed, "and you thought you were going to get off easy."

Hazel huffed, "oh no, not with me. I've been told I can be a big meanie."

Billy's laugh sounded like he was about the lose a lung and Frank picked up the cup and held the straw to his lips. Billy sucked the water down eagerly and rested back into the pillows, finally content to rest a while.

"When's Karen getting here?" Curt could tell Hazel was feeling Frank's apprehension.

"She just found a park, how's you day been?"

Hazel looked taken aback at Frank's question, "good, I did a half day in the ER so I'm pretty tried but I wouldn't miss my two hours for the world."

"Why is that, I'm sure you want to go home and.."

"Frank." Billy's voice was as harsh as he could manage, "let up."

Hazel swallowed, "It's ok Billy, I'm sure Frank's just looking out for you. I enjoy Billy's company and I like helping people. I have no other motives."

Before Frank could ask more, Karen arrived, "Hazel, it's so good to see you again." To Hazel's surprise, Karen hugged her as Hazel got up to greet her. Hazel returned it happily and the tension left the room.

"I bet you've seen some shit in the ER?" Billy was beyond grateful for Curtis, nothing brought people closer than swapping war stories.

Hazel groaned, "you really don't want to know."

Without thinking, Billy lifted his hand just enough to tap her, "yeah we do, these fucks love drama."

Hazel smiled, "oh, if you want stories, I've got some."

****

The disappointment that came over the room when Hazel had to go home gave Frank even more of a pause as he went to do the background check. Deep down, he knew she meant no harm and the more she talked, the more he liked her but he couldn't shake the feeling that she was hiding something. She just kept things too surface level, she spoke about herself and her life without really telling anyone much.

But everything made sense when he combed through her file. He felt a wave of shame as he closed his laptop, unsure of how to go forward. He knew one thing, he was going to have to make this right when he saw her next.

****

"How do you like your new room?" Hazel's visits had changed a lot in the last few days, especially now that Billy could talk without much trouble.

"It's good, I like being able to see everything that's going on so thank you for that."

Hazel smiled, "no worries, I wanted to make sure you felt comfortable."

As much as Billy disapproved of Frank's methods, he couldn't deny he wanted to do some poking of his own, "how did you know that I'd feel better if I could see all the doors and windows?"

"My neighbour in my first apartment was in the Army. The block wasn't in the best area so it was hard to sleep sometimes, we spent a lot of time talking on the roof. He always had to see the door or he'd get anxious." Billy was surprised that she was being so open.

"You still talk to him?" He didn't know why he asked that, he had no reason to care if she talked to a neighbour from years ago.

She shook her head, "no, he joined the Rangers. I have no idea what happened to him. Hell, I didn't even know his first name."

Billy smiled, "how old was he?"

"He'd be about our age if he's still alive, he was a nice enough guy. His last name was Philips, big dude, he had a rose tattoo on his forearm." Hazel spoke like she was recalling an old friend.

Billy huffed, "it's a small fucking world. His first name's Thomas, he works for Anvil."

Hazel's eyes went wide, "shit, it is. How is he?"

Billy smiled, "good, he's got a wife and two little kids. He's at our Manhattan location.

There was genuine warmth on Hazel's face, "I'm glad to hear he's going well."

Something in her changed and as much as she tried to hide it, Billy picked up on it, "what's wrong?"

Hazel shook her head, "long story, it's nothing really. But enough about me, tell me all about Anvil, my googling didn't turn up much."

Billy chuckled, "ah, you did research?"

Hazel sighed, "only a little. My best friend's your nurse, I had to make sure you were above board."

Billy tilted his head, "and if we weren't?"

Hazel suppressed a smile, "I don't know, I'd her tell to watch that you don't go all Hannibal Lecter."

Billy grinned, "nah, nurses don't taste very good."

Hazel shook her head, "I think that's my cue to go back to work, I'll be back this afternoon."

Billy smiled softly, "I can't wait."

****

Frank seemed very different when Hazel came for her afternoon visit, Billy was suspicious but he was happy about the change. "How was your day?"

A look of curiosity flashed over Hazel's face, "good, I worked in the PICU today so things have been both very busy and very slow."

Frank huffed, "we call that hurry up and wait, made me wanna rip my hair out."

She sighed, "it's the doctors, they think the hospital runs because of them when it's really the nurses keeping shit going, picket line crossing motherfucker. I'm sorry, I shouldn't swear or badmouth my colleagues."

Billy grinned, "you kidding me? Go off, I see the way some of them talk to you guys, you deserve to rant."

"Oh my God you have no idea. In the last hospital I worked in we had no real way to report doctors for bad behaviour, it was like the wild west. It's a lot better here but so is everything else." Billy's suspicion was growing, Frank hadn't poked at all today

"You two seem like you're getting along." Billy was looking at Frank with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, I imagine Frank's made up his mind about me, but not before a background check, am I right?" There was a little bit of bite in Hazel's tone and Frank realised that it was better late than never to apologise.

"Are you pissed I looked into you?" Billy felt like he was caught in the middle of something.

Hazel shook her head, "no, like I said before, Billy is your best friend, I understand where you're coming from. I'd do the same thing if I was in your position. Did you find what you were looking for?"

Frank swallowed, "I thought you might be hiding something, I realise now you have every reason to be a little bit closed off."

Billy looked at her, "what's he talking about?"

Hazel took a deep breath, "The boyfriend I had before I moved here almost strangled me to death in a steroid fueled rage. There were no warning signs, he just flew off the handle one day. Up until that point, he had only ever raised his voice once and that was the day before it happend." There was no shame in her voice and she spoke of it like she was recalling a traffic jam.

"What happened to him?" The fury in Billy's voice was poorly concealed.

"I shot him, twice. I knew things were going bad when he returned from work and asked me if I had talked to the cops. Things escalated, he wouldn't leave, I pulled out my legally registered handgun and told him to leave and he didn't. The first shot took out his knee but he didn't feel it, it came to blows and he made a show of removing the magazine before he climbed on top of me and wrapped his hands around my neck."

Billy's tactical mind had taken over and a smile came across his face, "he didn't empty the chamber?"

Hazel mirrored Billy's smile and shook her head, "nope, he didn't. I managed to get my hands on the gun before I passed out and the rest is history."

"Atta girl." Billy could tell Frank was both proud and impressed.

"I'm guessing you talked to Thomas Philips when you realised we were neighbours when it happened?"

Frank nodded, "yeah, I did. He said he walked in just after it happened."

Hazel huffed, "did he tell you what told he the police or what he actually saw?"

Frank smiled, "what he actually saw, he's not sorry for lying for you and he said he'd do it again."

Billy looked back and forth between them, " Philips told the cops he heard the shot and came running and when he walked in, I was rendering aid. In reality, I was reloading the gun, I was going to kill him."

Billy felt strange, he knew he saw something in her, "where is he now?"

"Prison, he was pissed because he thought I told the cops he was dealing a new PED. I had my suspicions he was taking them but I couldn't prove it, I had no idea he was dealing. He's doing seven to nine for assault and possession with intent to distribute. The DA wanted charge him with attempted murder but he took a plea."

"I'm sorry that happened to you." Billy knew what it was like to fear for your life when someone bigger and stronger was trying to hurt you.

"Nah, I learned some valuable lessons about myself that day and I wouldn't have come to New York if it didn't happen. You got any more questions?"

Frank smiled, "is marksmanship as good as your gun range makes it seem?"

She smiled, "hell yeah, I'm very accurate."

Billy had a look on his face, "I thought you were just going to poke a little?"

Frank held up his hand, "hey, I needed to know if she knew what she was doing with that hand canon."

Hazel laid her hand on Billy's forearm, "I'm not mad at either of you for looking into me. I understand why you did it."

Billy smiled, "that's good because I'd be pretty mad at Frank if he scared you off."

Hazel smiled, "I don't scare that easy."

Part 4

#a voice through the nothingness #billy russo #the punisher #fix it fic #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo smut #ben barnes #the punisher fanfiction #billy russo x ofc #frank castle #karen page #everybody lives/nobody dies #curtis hoyle #daredevil

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