#this could have gone so many different ways

[sunrizef1]

The Alchemy

Pairing: Logan sargeant x singer!reader

Warnings: Cursing

Authors note: recently realized that every time i include Logan in a fic, he gets points. That is me manifesting xx Not edited, ill edit later. Very loosely based on the alchemy by Taylor swift. This album has me in a chokehold. Also!! Tysm for 1k, I’ve been trying to think of something to do for that xx

Word count: 7.6k (took way too long, thanks Tay)

———————————————————

“Do you want to go to the f1 race in Miami? Ferrari invited you.”

Your head snaps to your publicist who tilts her head with a questioning look on her face. You set your guitar down, putting an end to your idle strumming. It rests on top of your notebook filled with random lyrics and doodles.

“I didn’t know I was allowed to do that,” you reply, laying back onto the couch you were sat on, shifting to sit in the seat more comfortably.

Your publicist, Aimee, rolls her eyes at your response, clicking away quickly on her phone, “I mean, you’re one of the biggest stars in the world, you could technically do whatever you wanted. It’s just never been in your image to go to sports or whatever. But everyone is gonna be there.”

There it is, the real reason you’d be allowed to go to a race was to be amongst the famous people that Aimee would, no doubt, want you to mingle with. Mingling wasn’t your strong suit.

“Ill think about it,” you give her a tight-lipped smile which she hums in response to, sliding out of the room without another glance at you.

The second she's gone, you collapse against the leather couch, eyes locked onto the ceiling of your studio.

The real reason you wanted to think about going to the race wasn't because Aimee only wanted you to go to get good pr but, instead, it was because of your own personal connection with one of the drivers.

You'd met Logan a year ago at the previous Miami Grand Prix. Noone knew you were there and you had intended to keep it that way before you ran into the driver.

You got in fairly easy, Mercedes VIP pass wrapped around your neck. You were close friends with Lewis who promised he could get you in and out with it still remaining a secret. You had your jacket hood up above your head, hair pulled back away from your face and a pair of sunglasses resting on your nose.

You hadn't thought about how many people you knew would be there. Your eyes stayed trained on the ground for the most part, hoping that it you didn't look up, no one you knew would notice you.

Because you weren't looking where you were going, you didn't see yourself run straight into a taller figure, landing against his hard chest.

Both of you stumble back a bit from the impact and you immediately open your mouth to apologize to the man in front of you but when you look up, the words die in your throat. Your eyes trace the features of the blond man, soaking up every little detail of his pretty face. You can tell he's muscular through his blue t-shirt and your breath catches slightly.

He's speechless when he sees you as well but for a completely different reason. You may not have been in your flashiest clothes or have your usual makeup or hair but anyone with a brain could recognize you if they actually bothered to look. Your music had been everywhere for so long and Logan would be lying if he said he hadn't had a crush on you for the longest time.

When you look up at his face and see him gaping slightly in an attempt to make sure you're actually you, you grasp his hand and start to pull him along before he can blow your cover. You pull him along until you reach a quiet corner, quickly pushing him away from the eyes of other people.

He leans against the wall behind him, crossing his toned arms across his chest and you find yourself gazing again.

“So,” he starts, voice filled with humor, “What is Americas sweetheart doing at a Formula 1 race... Undercover?”

You roll your eyes but cant help the grin that starts to form from the mans words, “I'm not actually supposed to be here.”

“Oh and that's why I got dragged into a dark corner?” the man asks, grin splitting his pretty face.

You laugh but don't catch the pleased look on the man's face, “Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't want anyone to, I don't know, mob me or something.”

“I get it,” when he says it, you can't help but believe he really does get it for some reason. For all you knew, this man might just work PR for…you glance down at his t-shirt to check, Williams Racing!

“Well, thank you for cooperating…?”

The man raises his eyebrows at your questioning tone, “Logan.”

“Thank you for cooperating Logan. I know a lot of people that probably would've fought me for grabbing them like that.”

Logan laughs, head leaning back against the wall gently as the noise leaves his throat, “Its no problem. Are you in the Mercedes garage today?”

You nod at his words, glancing back out to make sure the both of you are still hidden from the outside, “Lewis said he could sneak me in.”

“He didn't do a very good job, then. If I found you out,” Logan grins, leaning away from the wall.

“Maybe not. But you're not gonna tell, are you?” you tilt your head teasingly at the blond, eyes crinkling with the weight of your smile.

He laughs again, sticking his pinky out between the two of you, “I won't, pinky promise.”

You giggle and Logan decides its the only noise he cares to hear from now on. You stick your hand out as well, wrapping your pinky around his and the two of you just stand there for a second, gazing toward the other.

But eventually, both of you seem to remember that there were time-sensitive events about to happen just about 10 meters from where you're stood. You break away from him, smile stuck on your features.

He walks away first, his grin replicating yours. He turns toward you as he walks away, pulling a hand up to wave goodbye slightly as he slides out of the corner.

“See you later, y/n,” he smirks before disappearing from view and something in you tells you you will be seeing him later.

You hurry to the Mercedes garage, having told Lewis you were there 15 minutes ago. He ushers you into his drivers room, telling you that you could chill there until the race started, only a slight bit of concern for your previous whereabouts written on his face. You don’t tell him you think you’d just fallen in love with some random teams random employee, deciding that was a bit too off topic for the currently rushing Lewis who was practically running around his room trying to get his stuff together. He wasn’t stressed since he was, of course, Lewis Hamilton, but this was the most frazzled you’d seen him

“Ill be back before the race starts,” Lewis nods toward you while he opens the door, things clutched in his tattooed hands.

“Have fun, Lew!” you call out, collapsing against his couch the moment he leaves.

You pass the time scrolling through your phone, scribbling random lyrics into your notes app and trying not to fall asleep. Lewis comes back quick enough, sneaking you into the garage with your hood pulled tightly over your hair and sunglasses sat firmly on your face.

No one spares you a second glance and if they do, they know better than to question Lewis Hamilton.

Your eyes are drawn to one of the screens above you, the drivers all stood out in a line together for the national anthem and your eyebrows raise when they land on a certain blond man. Right in front of your eyes, Logan is stood in Williams blue and white next to his teammate as the national anthem plays behind them.

Oh, that cheeky bastard.

Well, at least you now knew where to find him after the race. When the race starts, you try your hardest to stay focused on the Mercedes and cheer for Lewis but you can’t help but let your eyes trace the path of a certain blue car instead.

When the race ends and Logan’s in p8, you find yourself anxiously waiting for Lewis to get back so you can dip. You bounce passively on your heels, fingers picking at the fraying edge of your jacket. The Miami sun beats down relentlessly, making sure you stay safely in the shaded garage.

Lewis gets back quick enough, having not been on the podium this race. You give him a quick hug and a congratulations, telling him you’ll text him if you ended up wanting to get dinner later. You didn’t give him a concrete dinner plan since you had a feeling you’d be busy later.

You practically sprint out of the garage in your effort to find Logan before he leaves, missing the confused look you leave on Lewis’ face as he watches you run.

You honestly had no idea where the Williams garage was but when you see the familiar blue, you stop in your tracks outside the exit. You lean on the wall just outside the door, hoping no one will see you as they leave.

A driver in orange passes you, Oscar maybe, giving you a perplexed look as he walks by. You just dip your head farther, hoping he didn’t recognize you. Or worse, think you’re some kind of stalker.

But before the kid can call any security or ask you for a picture, a familiar laugh sounds out as someone opens the door next to you. You glance up and see Logan exiting and you reach over and grasp his wrist. Logan looks up to see you, his infinite smile seemingly stretching even wider as he see your concealed state.

“Hi, y/n,” he laughs dopily, abandoning whoever he’d been walking out with. You glance over his shoulder to see Oscar with his eyebrows furrowed and you pray any of his concern had disappeared when he saw Logan’s positive reaction.

“Hi, Logan,” you smile back, pulling him away from the garage and hopefully away from anyone at all, ending up in a corner not dissimilar to the what you had pushed him into earlier that day, “Congrats on the points. Can’t believe I thought you worked PR or something.”

He grins again, carding a hand through his sweaty hair. Your eyes trace the fireproofs he hadn’t taken off yet, trying not to ogle the muscles under the shirt.

“Thanks, I’m pretty sure both parts of those are compliments?” your eyes snap back to his and away from his chest. You can tell from the smirk on his face, he had noticed your stare and you try your best to control your blush.

As you two stand in the corner quietly for a moment, you’re surprised when Logan’s the one to break the silence.

“Do you want to get dinner later?” Your eyebrows shoot up in shock at his confidence but they quickly settle as you smile softly.

“I’d love to.”

Logan grins once again, shoulders obviously relaxing at your response, “My phones in my room… or I’d get your number.”

You laugh slightly as he leans back against the wall behind him, his own blush covering his cheeks as you giggle.

“I’ll go with you,” you state simply, shrugging your shoulders and watching as his own eyebrows raise.

“You sure?”

You laugh as he leans closer to you, “yeah I’m sure, Logan. I’ll give you my number and you can send me dinner plans and we can have a great time. Celebrate your win.”

“I didn’t win,” Logan’s face looks somewhere between a grimace and a smile. His hands moved to wrest against his hips. Right where his race suit was also sat.

“You got points. Close enough to a win in my book,” you shrug, smiling big.

Logan laughs loudly, head leaning back against the brick wall behind him and your own laugh joins his, creating a chorus of joy that wasn’t to common on these parts of the paddock.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll text you then. Come on, I need to shower,” he says to you, returning the previous favor by grasping your wrist in his and pulling you along to his drivers room. When he starts walking, you slide your wrist out of his grasp and intertwine your fingers instead, pretending not to see the grin that splits his face.

When you get to his room, you quickly put your number in his phone before exiting. As much as you wish you could’ve stayed, you had places to be and if you were going on a date, you'd need a few hours.

Logan texts you the minute you're in the car back to your place and you grin stupidly at the words on your screen, texting back quickly.

The date goes well, Logan being a perfect gentleman the whole time. He had picked a nice steakhouse he had no doubt been to a couple times growing up, considering you knew how he’d grown up. You had definitely not pulled his Wikipedia up the second your feet hit the floor of your room.

He sips his wine passively, much more interested in the stories you were telling about being on tour and the time one of your backup dancers had accidentally hooked up with one of the drivers. He offers to cut your steak for you and you let him, simply because none of your ex’s would have ever done something as small as that. He reads the dessert menu to you, asking the waiter for a second fork when you order the chocolate cake despite your objections about having your own slice. You both laugh but you shake your head when he offers to get a different piece. He picks up the bill despite your protests, sliding his card into the check and handing it back before you can even attempt to grab it from him. Then he walks you back to the car, arm around your shoulders as you try not to trip in your heels. When he drops you off, he moves to walk away from your doorstep but you’re quick to grasp his wrist, pulling him in and slamming the door behind the both of you.

That had been a year ago and you were still in love with Logan.

A year of Logan sneaking you in and out of the garage and a year of coincidentally scheduling tour shows to line up with race weekends. You’d released two albums about him. Not even your own manager knew who the songs were about. The only person who knew about the relationship was Lewis, who figured it out pretty quickly when you didn’t text him to get dinner that very first night. He was actually quite helpful in getting you in and out of the paddocks all across the world. He was pretty private to begin with so no one asked him many questions about where he was sneaking off to.

It’s not that you didn’t want to world to know about your relationship. It’s more that it was nice to have something you loved be private for once. Every boyfriend you’d ever had was inevitably mobbed by fans every time they stepped outside. Not that you were too empathetic. Half of your ex’s were contractually obligated to date you by your agency and the other half just sucked as people.

Logan was the first boyfriend you truly loved and got to choose to be with every day. Also, if your agency found out you’d secretly been dating someone and sneaking around for a year, you’d never hear the end of it and you’d probably get dropped for breach of contract, or whatever.

You didn’t tell anyone else on the grid. You would've but Logan dissuaded you after telling you that none of them could keep a secret for their lives.

So, the second Aimee left the room, your first calls is to Logan.

“Hey baby,” Logans voice echoes across the phone. You can hear a bit of exhaustion in his voice and recall him telling you he was about to work out, “Whats up?”

You can't help the heat that rises to your cheeks at even his simplest words, “Hey, are you free to talk?”

“Yeah, yeah, just finished working out with Benny,” He replies, and you car hear the beep of a car unlocking and the door opening before closing, “Everything okay?”

You hum, shifting in your seat, “Yeah, I'm fine. Aimee just asked if I wanted to go to the Miami gp with Ferrari.”

There's a few seconds of silence from Logans end of the phone before he responds, “Do you want to?”

“It’d be nice to go and not have to hide in the back of Mercedes,” you sigh, weighing the pros and cons, “But I don't want to go with Ferrari.”

“You can't pick the garage?”

“I’ll try but I feel like Aimee will just stick me in whatever garage she wants me in,” you sigh again, sinking dejectedly into the couch, “Not sure I'd get much of a choice.”

“I’d love to have you there,” you can hear the slight smile in his voice and you laugh warmly despite your previous annoyance.

“Ill try and convince her. I'll see you there Logan,” you smile, sitting up in your seat. You fiddle with a piece of your hair, glancing around the small room you're in. You weren't super confident you could convince Aimee but if Logan wanted you there, you'd try your hardest to get in the Williams garage.

Logan laughs, “See you there, babe. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Logan hangs up and you smile, tossing your phone down next to you. You're quick to pick it back up though, texting Aimee to ask if you can be in the Williams garage instead.

When the day of the Miami GP arrives and your stood in the Williams garage, its as much of a surprise to you as it is to everyone else. You had spent the past month trying to convince Aimee to let you sit in Williams instead of Ferrari. She had spent the past month telling you that it’d be better for your image to be in Ferrari.

You hadn't told Logan you’d be in his garage since, until that morning, you didn’t know you would be. You weren’t initially sure what made her change her mind but when you entered the garage and saw several celebrities almost more famous than yourself, it made sense. Of course she’d only agree to get you to be seen interacting with more a-listers. Jokes on her, though, because instead of staying in the garage for the next few hours, you decided to walk around. You were actually hoping to find Lewis in something other than a dark corner for once.

On the other side of the paddock, Logan had ended up in Ferraris hospitality after Oscar had dragged him along to meet up with Lando who was meeting up with Carlos who was meeting up with Charles who was meeting up with Max. So, in the end, Logan felt out of his element.

He chair sat slightly away from the others as they all talked about Miami, a place that Logan honestly didn’t have much to say about anymore. Maybe if someone asked, he’d say something. But he honestly wasn’t feeling it. He’d be more enthused if you were stood in his garage instead of Charles’, cheering him on. But, no, Aimee had you stuck in the red and yellow.

“Did you guys hear that y/n l/n is here?” A Spanish accent rings out from across the little circle of chairs, causing Logan’s head to snap up.

Lando’s head shoots up as well, eyes locking onto Carlos’, “You’re kidding! I love her!”

Carlos nods his head at the Brit, grinning widely, “Yeah, I heard some engineers talking about her earlier!”

Max snorts, shaking his head in disbelief, “If she was here, one of us would’ve seen her already. She’s not in either of our garages,” Max gestures between him and Charles who’s sat with an agreeable look on his face, nodding at Max’s words.

“I’m gonna ask around. If she’s here there’s no way I’m not giving her my number,” Lando laughs, already looking around for someone to interrogate. Logan has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. Although it was weird Charles hadn’t seen you. Maybe he’d just left before you’d arrived.

“You sure she’s even single, mate?” Oscar asks the brunette man, laughing slightly as he turns around toward the Aussie with a smirk on his face.

“She hasn’t been seen with anyone in like a year and a half and there’s definitely no shortage of men in love with her. I’m about to jump on that before anyone else here snatches her up,” Lando laughs again, standing up from his chair quickly almost as if he’s about to sprint out but suddenly Lewis appears beside the little group, catching Lando before he can.

“What are you guys doing?” Lewis asks with a raised eyebrow, eyes surveying the group before they stop on Logan. Logan glances away from the older man quickly, choosing instead to stare at the ground.

“Talking about y/n l/n. Apparently she’s here and Landos so in love with her that he’s about to sprint out and find her. I’d want her number too but Lando seems more passionate,” Carlos laughs and Charles nods along with a grin. Lewis’ eyes land back on Logan with a small smirk gracing his features.

“Yeah but we’re not sure she’s even here, we all think she would’ve been in one of our garages if she was here,” Max continues, gesturing toward his fellow drivers. Logan has a sneaking suspicion he meant every garage beside Williams.

Logan grins again, pushing Lando softly back into his seat. Logan can feel the man’s gaze on his lowered head as he respond, “Well, she’s is here. She’s in the Williams garage.”

With that, Logan’s head snaps up to meet Lewis eyes and the eyes of all the other drivers move quickly toward Logan who’s too busy looking at Lewis to sink under their piercing gazes.

“She’s looking for you,” Lewis nods at Logan who’s quickly to stand from his seat, six pairs of eyes on his back as he turns away.

“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath as he starts to walk away from the group, his movements quickly turning into a run.

Back in the little circle, Lando sits with a pouty look on his face while everyone besides Lewis sits with incredulous looks on their faces. Lewis sits proudly, a small smirk on his face. Oscar is the one to break the silence.

“What the fuck just happened?”

Logan reaches the garage quick enough, hearing whispers of your name echo between engineers and PR workers alike, all mumbling about your surprising presence in the garage.

He jogs lightly over to Alex, slinging an arm around the taller drivers shoulders. The man turns away from the conversation he was having with Lily, furrowing an eyebrow at the weirdly exhausted American.

“What’s up mate?”

“Have you seen y/n?” Logan says through labored breaths, eyes tracing every corner of the building in search of a sign of you.

Alex shakes his head, glancing back toward his girlfriend, both with matching confused looks on their faces, “Nah mate, apparently we’ve just missed her.”

Logan groans dramatically, sliding away from Alex and moving toward the exit once again, correctly assuming you must be looking for Lewis. Alex turns back to Lily whose confusion mirrors his.

“What was that about?”

“No idea.”

Logan’s once again jogging through the paddock in search of you, praying he gets there before Lando can thoroughly weird you out or flirt enough to give you trauma.

His heads bowed to shield himself from the Miami heat so he doesn’t see himself run straight into someone. He reaches out to catch whoever he’s just thrown toward the ground and when he looks up he’s met with your pretty face. He’s honestly never been more relieved to see someone.

“Hi,” you smile softly as he leans you back to standing, arms still wrapped gently around your torso.

“Hi,” he laughs, out of breath from his jog. You both stand and stare in each others eyes for a moment, adoration in the air between you.

“That felt quite familiar,” you break the trance, laughing as his arms finally move away from you in order to keep a little decorum.

Logan barks a laugh, hand moving to run through his blonde hair as he glances toward the ground abashedly, “Yeah, except this time, you’re not pulling me into a dark corner.”

You glance around at the bustling people around you, realizing how little you cared about people seeing you interact. A weight feels like it’s been lifted off your shoulders at the fact you don’t have to hide your conversations around here anymore. It actually felt quite freeing.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you reply, smiling as sunlight hits the side of your face, eyes not catching the loving stare Logan is sending your way as you bask in the Miami sun.

Logan grins, eventually pulling you away from the sun as he grasps your wrist. You lean into his side slightly, keeping a reasonable distance for people to think you’re just close friends. You’d already talked about how mad your agency would be if they found out you were dating. So you both agreed interactions in the paddock would be kept to platonic.

But as much as you tried to keep them so, you could only do so much. It was hard to keep the love out of your eyes as you stared at Logan, eyes tracing the side of his face. Anyone with eyes could see how gently he held you, with all the love and care in the world.

As you arrived back at the Williams garage, Logan kept walking and pulled the two of you back into his room as quietly as he could. Shutting the door gently behind him. As soon as the doors closed, your hand is wrapping around the side of his face and pulling him down to meet him in a gentle kiss.

He smiles into it, arms wrapping around your shoulders as you walk the two of you back to the couch, both flopping down onto it. You lean back against the arm rest as he lays against your chest, the exhaustion of a race weekend finally catching up with him.

“Go to sleep baby,” you say quietly, fingers carding through his sun-bleached hair, “You’ve got more than a few hours. I’ll wake you up when someone comes to get you.”

Logan hums half-heartedly, eyes already closing as he shifts to sit against you more comfortably, sleep quickly overtaking him. You scratch his head passively as he sleeps, almost petting him as if he was a golden retriever. You slide your phone open, mumbling lyrics and rhythms under your breath. You mange to type a few verses into your phone with one hand, occasionally having to pull your other hand away from his head momentarily. Every time you did, though, he’d shift in his sleep and your hand would go right back.

It’s a few hours of this before anyone comes to disrupt his nap, the door sliding open without a knock. Your eyes catch Alex’ and you quickly raise your hand with a shushing motion, gesturing down at the man sleeping on top of you. Although, Alex seems more preoccupied with your presence than Logan’s sleeping state, mouth dropping open as he takes in you and his teammates predicament.

“The team needs Logan, they’re about to start getting ready,” Alex manages to spit out, eyes still bouncing between the two of you. You nod, moving one hand to tap at Logan’s face lightly. The man groans through his tiredness, eyes cracking open slowly.

“Teams getting ready, they need you,” you smile down at him. He glances up at you with a small smile, eventually rolling off of you to stand up with a yawn.

Only then do his eyes catch on his teammate stood by the door, shock and confusion lacing his figure. Logan just waves slightly, drowsiness still fogging his mind. Alex blinks, arms frozen to his side.

When Logan grabs his stuff and steps out of the small room, stopping to give you a kiss on his way out, Alex finally snaps out of his haze.

“What the hell, man?” Alex manages to spit out.

Logan yawns as he walks by his teammate, a hand reaching up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, “Huh?”

Alex splutters through his words incredulously, “Why were you sleeping on top of y/n l/n? One of the biggest stars in the world was just hanging out in your room!?”

Logan hums, running a hand over the lines that had appeared on his face during his nap, “That’s my girl, man.”

Alex stops in his tracks, eyes wide and mouth dropped in shock, “What!?”

Logan rolls his eyes at his teammates dramatics, dragging him along next to him and also gesturing for Alex to keep his volume down, “Yeah, we’ve been together for a year and a few months.”

“Mate, what? She’s released like 3 albums in that time,” Alex starts before he seems to come to a realization, eyes snapping back to Logan again, “Oh my god, is reputation about you!?”

When Logan concedes and nods in response, a grin break out on his teammates face, “What about Lover? Or nonsense? Or espresso? Oh my god, so many of her songs must be about you!”

Logan holds back his annoyance, blaming his exasperation on his quite recent wake up call, taking a moment to remind himself that Alex was just surprised. If this had been any other day, he’d take any chance to talk about how cool you were or how much he loved you. But after everything with Landos crush and the boys thinking you’d only ever been seen in their garages, he was honestly annoyed. Not at you, of course, just at how everyone was acting without any tact.

“Yeah, come on, the team needs us,” Logan yawns, dragging his teammate down the hall, the latter still with a stupid grin on his face.

You stepped back into the garage again eventually, eyes scanning the parts of the garage you hadn’t seen before while hidden in the corners. Of course, the Williams garage was completely unfamiliar. But you hoped it wouldn’t be unfamiliar anymore after today.

You can feel the cameras and questioning glances on you, wondering why you’d be at an f1 race, let alone Williams. Everyone thought you’d be in Red Bull or Ferrari or at the least, Alpine, since several of your athlete friends had invested.

You’re not sure what the rules are for drivers going into garages that aren’t theirs but you’re ninety-nine percent sure Lando wasn’t supposed to be here. It didn’t help that he seemed to have dragged Oscar, Max and Charles along with him.

“Oh my god, y/n l/n!” You hear the Brit call out first, giddiness lacing his words. You glance over to see the four drivers approaching, turning your gaze back to the team momentarily to check if this was allowed. There’s uneasy looks on their faces but none of them move to kick them out so you turn back to the quartet.

“Hi?” You smile with a raised eyebrow and you swear you see Lando blush. Oscar rolls his eyes as the older driver starts dramatically fanning himself.

Charles is the first person to respond normally, sticking out his hand as he leans toward you, “It’s nice to meet you, we’re big fans. Some of us obviously more than others.”

You laugh as Charles side-eyes Lando who responds by sticking his tongue out. Their interactions made sense considering you were pretty sure half of them never graduated high school. You reach out and shake Charles’ hand before dropping it as Max reaches out his own.

“I’m Max, not sure how much you know about F1,” Max states, tilting his head. If only he knew just how many races you'd been to.

You nod your head with a small smile, ignoring the way Lando is staring with a dopey look on his face, “Yeah, yeah, I've actually watched a lot of races, so I've seen you win a lot haha.”

Max smirks slightly, shaking his head. Lando frowns as Oscar elbows him and mumbles something under his breath, “She’s never seen you win, mate.”

Your head snaps toward the drivers in papaya as Lando practically tackles Oscar, putting the Aussie in a headlock. You tilt your head toward Charles who’s watching with a frown but makes no effort to separate the pair, “This happen a lot?”

He hums, nodding his head, not taking his gaze away from the thing 1 and thing 2 now on the ground in front of you, “Yeah, they’re like puppies, got to let them get their energy out somehow. No ones been seriously maimed. Yet.”

You snort, finally looking away from the idiots as you hear someone walk up behind you, Charles and Max, the latter turning around as well.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” The commanding voice of the Williams team principal rings out, causing the two mclarens to halt their movements, immediately separating as they stand up.

James surveys the little group for a few moments and you look over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of blond hair before it disappears.

“Now,” James starts, scanning the drivers in front of him, all in varying colors of team shirts, “I could probably get you all in trouble for being in my garage but since I’ve heard a lot of excitement about our guest today, I’ll let it slide.”

You looks back to the man in front of you when you hear a mention of yourself, skin heating as several pairs of eyes all look to you. You look away and back to where you’d seen Logan, hoping for a quick escape. You find him but you watch as he makes eye contact with Lando before turning away as quick as he can. Lando, on the other hand, shoots a hand out to point at the driver, moving forward toward him.

“Logan!” He yells as the aforementioned driver turns away, making himself busy with pretending to be helping Alex, “I need to know what he did to get you in his garage!”

Lando gestures at you before moving to walk past you. He only makes it a few steps before James is stepping in front of him, pushing the lighter man back slightly, “I actually believe you will all be going back to your own garages, yes? It’s almost time for the race.”

Lando frowns with a suspicious look on his face, planting his feet firmly in the ground beneath him as if challenging James to move him. Oscar rolls his eyes before grabbing the brunettes wrist and dragging him out of the room, waving slightly at Logan as he exits.

Charles and Max both wave at you as they leave but Max is the one calling out, “Nice to meet you, y/n.”

You smile at the pair, waving them goodbye. You sigh as you turn around, tiredness filling your face. James stops you before you can stalk off to your seat for the race, hands grasping your shoulders lightly.

“It’s nice to finally meet my drivers girlfriend,” there’s a knowing look on the man’s face and you open your mouth to respond but he beats you to it, “He didn’t tell me. But I saw you two in the hall earlier, the boy had love written on his face, it would’ve been hard to miss.”

You blush, looking down toward the ground with a smile, “Thanks Mr Vowles, it’s nice to meet you as well.”

James laughs, ruffling your hair as he leans away, “Have a fun day, kid. Maybe you’re his lucky charm. And you can call me James.”

You smile as you walk away, smoothing your hair back to place. You weren’t too annoyed by the antics since it was pretty windy anyway, your hair had already been going wild.

“Thanks, James. Good luck, today.”

He just nods in response before slipping away, no doubt to get ready for the race. You turn to talk to Logan but he’s already been swept up in the chaos of the pre-race so you leave him to it, finally making it to your designated seat for the day.

It’s not long before it’s lights out and away we go.

P3. P fucking 3. Logan had just gotten a podium.

You don’t think you’d ever screamed as loud as you had when he crossed the line. Luckily, Alex’ girlfriend, Lily seems just as excited as you, jumping up and down as the team celebrated around you. Fortunately, Alex had had a good race as well, finishing in fifth.

You didn’t bother wiping the tears that were falling from your eyes, too busy trying not to fall over in your expensive heels as Lily dragged you to where the team was meeting at the barriers. Sun shines brightly down on you all, painting your faces with a warming light. Williams employees revel in joy from all around you, pure happiness gracing their usually joy-deprived faces.

The crowd seems to part as you and Lily make your way to the barriers, grasping at each other tightly, trying to make sure this was all real.

Tears stream down your face, no doubt taking your mascara with them. You have to gasp for air more than a couple times, pure elation taking over your breath. You watch as the blue car rolls in front of you, slowing to a stop. Lily hugs your arm tightly, already having heard about your relationship from Alex. You see Alex’ car out of the corner of your eye but you’re too busy trying not to collapse.

Logan steps out of the car, hands visibly shaking. You can practically see the smile through his helmet as he stands on the nose of his car, the crowds of Miami cheering for their hometown hero.

He jumps down and moves to take off his helmet, gloves coming off with them. He glances around at the crowd above him, taking in the moment he gets to be the hero for once, gets to be revered. But his eyes do move away, tracing the crowd for his team.

When his eyes land on yours, another tear slides down your face and drops off into the warm concrete below you. His grin in that moment could move mountains, filled with enough pure joy to heal any aches and pains you’ve ever felt. You can’t look away from his child-like joy, having never seen him this happy in your entire year of dating. His eyes widen with a warmth you wish you could find a way to stay in forever, almost rivaling the warmth of the Miami sun.

Someone from race control tries to get him to go get weighed but he’s dropping his helmet before taking off in a run. He reaches you and before you can even say a word, he’s grasping your face in his hands and leaning down to put his lips against yours, melting into your embrace.

Screams echo around you but all you can hear is the words Logan whispers as he breaks away, leaning his forehead against yours, “I did it, baby.”

You laugh, leaning toward him as he reaches a hand up and wipes away your tears, “Yeah, you did. I’m so proud of you!”

Logan smiles, closing his eyes momentarily to take in the love between you, “Thank you for coming, I love you so much, baby.”

You tilt his head up to catch his lips in another searing kiss, hoping he can feel just how proud and in love with him you are, “I love you too, so, so much.”

You’re both just grasping at each other, praying to be able to simply hold each other for as long as you can before someone pulls him away. Unfortunately, that comes sooner than you’d hoped as someone from race control pulls him away to get weighed. You finally break from the trance he’d put you in, looking around to see Charles and Max staring at Logan as he walks in front of them, glances shared between the pair in p1 and p2.

Lily wraps an arm around you as Alex walks away from her as well and you lean your head on your shoulder, watching as your boyfriends talk after getting weighed, obvious congratulations and pats on the back being shared between the two.

You knew this would make Aimee mad, but you honestly couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were too busy being young and in love. You could always find a different agency, you were in high demand after all.

Logan’s stood to the side with Alex when Lando walks up, eyebrows furrowed deeply as he surveys the Williams drivers.

“What the hell was that, mate?” Lando calls out to Logan, confusion creeping through his outward disapproval.

Logan laughs at the Brits face, sensing a bit of disappointment in the McLaren drivers demeanor, “The podium?”

Lando rolls his eyes, running a hand through his curls, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Logan laughs again as Alex throws his arm over the younger drivers shoulder, preparing to steer the two of them to interviews, “Just kissing my girlfriend, mate. Nothing else to it.”

Lando seems to be even more confused as the Williams drivers walk away, although he does eventually manage to shout out a final sentence, “How’d you manage that!?”

Logan practically cackles as Alex snorts, knowing as much as he did that it was a miracle he had pulled you, “I’m not sure either!”

They do eventually make it to interviews and then podium, Logan sending a heart down at you with his hands before Charles and Max turn to him, champagne in hand. Logan stands there and takes it, Miami sunlight bounces off the rivulets of alcohol that cascade across his tanned skin, still hot with the warmth that had infected him during the race.

The next morning, you don’t remember much from the night before. You had gone out to celebrate with Logan and of course, it was Miami and you were known so it wasn’t too hard to find the best spots. Drinks flowed and music pumped and you’re pretty sure you were hanging out with pitbull at one point.

Logan was still asleep in your bed in your Miami home, shirt missing and a distinct smell of beer sticking to his skin. His hair was ruffled and random pieces of glitter floated around his skin. His shins were hanging off the edge of the bed and random marks littered his exposed back, scratches and bruises, no doubt your fault, painting his usually blank skin with hues of red and purple. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more in love with him.

You slide from the bed quietly, moving toward your guitar as a sudden bout of lyrics plagues your mind, begging to be released. You strum passively as you sit out on your balcony, humming lyrics under your breath as Logan remains asleep soundly in your bedroom.

“Said it’s still reserved for me … who are we.. fight the alchemy?”

A month later, Logan’s entering the paddock, his phone clutched tightly in his hand and headphone covering his ears. He’s making his way to his garage when he’s suddenly bombarded by the same five drivers from Miami, all talking over each other.

“Calm down, one at a time, please,” Logan sighs, waiting for them to quit speaking at the same time. They all stop, Carlos being the one to speak first.

“Have you heard the new y/n song?” Carlos asks, eyes raised widely. Logan laughs as he asks it, sliding his phone open to Spotify, proudly showcasing your new song playing on loop.

The Alchemy - y/n l/n

Logan slides his phone in his pocket, walking away before Lando can wax poetic about you or complain about Logan stealing you away from him. Logan glances back to see Oscar covering Landos ears as the song starts to play from a nearby speaker. Logan laughs as Charles, max and Carlos do the opposite of helping by deciding to sing it loudly in the Mclaren boys face.

Alex watches his teammate walk up, pulling off his headphones to find the song also playing the garage. Alex laughs, leaning his head back in content, basking in the pure happiness radiating through the atmosphere this weekend.

“Good song,” Alex hums, cracking an eye open to see a wide grin split the younger man’s face.

“Thanks man, it’s about me.”

Alex laughs, leaning back against the chair he was sitting in, watching as Logan sways to the song, lips moving to the words no one else had had time to learn yet.

Alex closes his eyes again, letting the rhythm of the song and Logan’s hums take over his hearing. He wasn’t sure about your relationship at first but he honestly hoped you’d stay together just so he could see Logan this happy every weekend.

You, on the other side of the world, were listening to the song at the very same time, singing the lyrics to yourself and dancing to a song Logan had been hearing for the past month non-stop.

As you danced along, you just knew Logan was out there somewhere, dancing with you.

———————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau #logan sargeant x fem!reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargent fluff #fem!driver!reader

[dulcelem]

Part 6

Lastly, finally, the performance. Till appears, but he doesn't look like himself. Without the usual energy, without the sharp and challenging atmosphere around him. Just an empty, irritatingly resigned shell of the person who used to be so resilient.

At the beginning of the mv, we are shown how much he is suffering(experiments? torture? calming drugs?). Mizi was gone from where he could see and on top of that he was going through all of this; what was the point? The only source of comfort he had was gone. He has no reason to fight, no reason to continue—he's so painfully different from everything Ivan knows. He seems just a shadow of what he once was. Melancholy and exhausted. His hair is tamed, he's wearing the clothes he should, he has shoes on and his sharp gaze is lifeless. Till was not acting as Ivan expected. He wasn't being aggressive. He wasn't fighting. He wasn't doing his best.

Ivan didn't anticipate that he would act like this: not long ago he was releasing because he was physically fighting with an alien. In that moment, he was still him. As Ivan himself said in the interview, he expected aggression. This apathy, this melancholy... Ivan didn't expect it.

As the song unfolds, Ivan thinks about their story. He thinks about everything he's ever done to be by his side, from simple things like watching him draw to more intense things destroying the flower crown. And he thinks about how he is right next to Till as he acts in an unrecognizable, new, and terrifying way. New in a completely opposite way to the new he wanted to escape with. Till looked strange, and this must have slowly but surely caused Ivan despair. His scores were higher, but Till seemed too distant to care. He wasn't caring, and he was going to die.

He continues singing and glances at Till—he doesn't return the look, nor the song line. Ivan had to deal with what he had been ignoring all along because of the hasty belief that Till was still going to act competitively. He had to face, in the few minutes they were on that stage, that the consequence of winning would be losing. The consequence of giving his best would be to have Till taken away from him. He had to reflect on what he said to Sua and how those words came back to haunt him because Till couldn't die. Not while Ivan lived, and he knew it. And look where those words and his actions led him.

Till had officially given up and stopped singing. Ivan notices and seems to decide something. In the heat of the moment, faced with so much despair, so much confusion and so much anger, he throws the microphone on the floor.

Desperation, because Till was about to die before his eyes. Confusion, because that behavior was not typical of him. Anger, because he gave up and because he wasn't being himself. He wasn't being brave and stubborn. Anger, because he wasn't doing his best against him, because he wasn't caring about their round. Because he was no longer dignifying him a single dispute. Because, after so many fights between them, this is the one he decides to give up on. And Ivan doesn't accept it. He doesn't accept that Till gave up. It's not how it's supposed to happen. Ivan has to give him a reason to stop acting like this. He has to instil something strong in Till, something that makes him react. He has to fill his tank with anger so that he reacts at any cost, so that he does something.

Ivan walks towards him with only one certainty: Till won't die on that stage, he will. It's a hypocritical sacrifice, he acknowledges. Still, he is better than Sua. She was loved and her death caused Mizi irreparable harm, trauma and pain. Till didn't even look at him. In the short time he decides what he's going to do and feels everything he felt, he regrets being so hard on Sua. Now, he understood. Letting Till die was not a viable option.

He rests his hand on Till's face as Till is conscious for the first time, having his full attention. He is acting desperate, looking crazy, but he is no longer confused.

He kisses Till. Without hesitating. He wants to look crazy. He wants to lower his scores. He wants to break the perfect prince facade and reveal himself completely out of control. And most importantly, he wants Till to know. He wants to show everything he never showed, express the feelings he suppressed until they exploded like that, at that moment, on that stage. Most of all, he wants Till to understand. This is the only and last attempt to explain without words(they were never his specialty, anyway). "That's it. That's what everything I did when we were kids is. That's what everything I did and do with you means. That's why I stole your things only to give them back later. The reason why I picked on you. Why I always followed you, always freed you. I acted in a way that wasn't good for me, nor for you. I was never like Sua was for Mizi for you, but thank you. Thank for putting up with me. Thank you for being the victim of my shallow emotions.".

But Till is still unresponsive. He tries to pull him away, but it's not strong enough. He isn't fighting.

He remembers what Mizi did to Luka and begins to choke Till to provoke even more reaction from the audience that still remember that disaster. He doesn't even let Till speak. Not with the intention of killing him, but of saving him. And it works.

Gratified and relieved, he gives one last, simple and true little kiss on Till's lips. A reward for Ivan, a celebration of his victory. It's quick, Till doesn't return, but Ivan is happy anyway because the scores were reversed. He did it. Till is the one who will live, therefore Ivan won.

Till closes his eyes and Ivan is shot for the first time. It hurts, but it's not enough. It was just on the shoulder. He's made a decision and he's going to take it to his very grave. Another shot. Not yet, he can still stand. He needs a little more.

Until, finally, blood starts flooding his mouth.

He realizes that this is it. He's really going to die. This is the end of him and he feels fear.

But it doesn't take long for him to realize that this isn't the end for Till. A sickeningly sweet smile, a look of "It was worth it" or "That's good. You're safe" blooms across his face.

Losing strength, he lets go of Till's throat. Till's eyes widen, surprised and scared to see him bleeding and falling. Ivan falls to the ground smiling because he got what he wanted, and dies smiling because Till is alive and finally looking at him.

Part 5

#alnst #alien stage #alnst ivan #alien stage ivan #ivantill #alnst till #ivantill kiss

[joequiinn]

PREVIEW | You Can Have My Hate | B.H. x reader

summary: Unfortunately, you got stuck with Billy fucking Hargrove as your partner for your final assignment in history class. Also unfortunately, Billy discovers you have a killer body underneath all those baggy clothes…

a/n: Billy is a disgusting little man and i love him dearly. as the title says, this is a preview of something i've been working on! the fic is already at 6.5k words and still isn't done, so i decided to put out a little snippet to see if there was any interest, so please let me know if you'd like me to finish the fic!

notes & tropes: fem reader, curvy + large chest reader, foul and suggestive language, canon typical Billy bullshit, awful behavior from both Billy and reader, minor allusions to sex but nothing happens (yet)

music inspo: Closer by Nine Inch Nails

preview wc: 1.9k

You let me violate you | You let me desecrate you You let me penetrate you | You let me complicate you

“Damn, little miss straight-laced,” Billy’s hooded eyes slowly crawled down your body, the corner of his mouthing pulled back in a lecherous smirk, “is that what you’ve been hiding under all those baggy clothes?”

God, you hated Billy Hargrove. Absolutely despised him with every fiber of your being. You knew you should’ve begged your history teacher for a different partner, should’ve gotten on your knees and pleaded for literally anyone other than Billy fucking Hargrove to work on this assignment with you. An idiotic football player or a bitchy cheerleader would’ve been better than this. But no, you didn’t beg and you didn’t plead, so now you were stuck, and god if this wasn’t about to be the worst couple weeks of your life.

Ever since Billy showed up in Hawkins at the beginning of last semester, you detested him. Everything about him screamed disrespectful, hateful asshole, and so having two classes with him meant you had witnessed your fair share of this behavior. Why so many girls wanted to fuck him and why so many boys aspired to be him was a mystery to you, because you could see from the start that he was a no good piece of shit.

But, in a way, you were lucky because you were literally a nobody. And nobodies went unnoticed, which meant not having to deal with bullshit from 90% of your peers. Hell, when your history teacher was pairing everyone off and told Billy who his partner would be, his response was an amused “who?” as if he didn’t believe this person - you - even existed. He had gone the entirety of the school year not having a single clue that you existed, and damn you wish it had just gone on a little longer. You literally had one more month left of senior year, one more month until you never even had to think about Hawkins High again, and the last thing you wanted was to spend half of that month in misery while trying to put up with Billy fucking Hargrove.

This assignment shouldn’t have even been worth shit to you, considering that your grade was nearly perfect and it was your last big project before graduation, but that’s where your history teacher hooked all of you - if this assignment wasn’t completed, then you guys wouldn’t be able to receive your diplomas. Or so he said to deter kids like you from flaking on it - you didn’t know if your boring old history teacher had that kind of authority, but you weren’t about to risk finding out.

And for kids like Billy? Kids who didn’t give a shit, who were already struggling to pass? The grade on this assignment was make or break. Not that it affected you any, of course - Billy could fail his senior year for all you cared. But shockingly enough, he was the one to make a point of its importance to you, the one to emphasize that he had to pass this class and graduate. It was curious to you, since you’d never once seen Billy care about school, but perhaps he was also beginning to feel the fire under his ass to leave Hawkins.

So, for the past week now, you’d been meeting with Billy at the school library, trying your best not to rip out your hair while you did the majority of the work. Hell, you could’ve told Billy just to fuck off and let you work on your own - you’d still let him put his name on the assignment and everything. But for whatever reason, you didn’t and so now you were subjecting yourself to tolerating his bullshit.

And that’s what you were doing right now, sitting across from Billy in the library and using every fiber of your being not to lose it on him. He had been particularly difficult from the moment he sat down, his foot bouncing impatiently and his expression condescending each time you tried to talk to him. He was making it very clear that he’d rather be anywhere other than here. The warm temperature of the library combined with your frustration at Billy was causing you to feel a little toasty, so you caved and tugged your large sweater over your head, leaving you in a tight, black tank top that left little to the imagination.

And said tight, black tank top is exactly what Billy was ogling, making you sneer and immediately regret taking off your sweater.

You never liked showing off your body, never liked the attention it drew you. You wouldn’t say you were self-conscious necessarily, you didn’t hate the way you looked in the mirror or anything like that. But you were very aware of how men looked at women’s bodies, and as someone who hated most forms of attention, you weren’t going to have any of that. So you wore baggy jeans and oversized sweaters, hid your frame under clothes that were always a size or so too big. It kept eyes and hands off of you, and you preferred it that way.

But damn it, it was so hot in the library that afternoon and you weren’t thinking clearly. You couldn’t believe your own stupidity - you just had to take off your sweater in front of Billy fucking Hargrove, a boy who only ever saw women as either sex pots or prudes. His lewd gaze was making you feel even more hot under the collar, but shit did you want to put your sweater back on already despite the heat.

“Will you please focus, Hargrove?” You begged in an exacerbated tone, trying to cross your arms over your chest in a way that wasn’t obvious while looking back down to the textbook open in front of you.

“You expect me to focus now, after you whipped those out?” Billy took such obvious joy in knowing that he was making you uncomfortable. He leaned forward on the table, his eyes once again traveling a salacious path down the curves of your body, “It’s Friday night, I got a pair of double D’s sitting across from me, and you’re asking me to focus on a damn essay?”

“Shut up.” You threatened between your teeth, trying not to raise your voice and draw attention. Your eyes were dark with frustration as you stared at Billy, who simply looked back at you like he didn’t give a damn, like he was just waiting for you to cave to him.

And how the hell could he tell you wore a double D?

You sank in your seat a little while attempting to cross your arms even more aggressively in front of your chest, feeling your cheeks growing red. Billy gave you that smooth, lazy grin that you’ve seen him use before, his eyes hooded as he leaned back in his chair. The feeling of his indecent gaze on your body practically made your skin crawl.

“Fine, Hargrove,” You quickly grab up your belongings and shoot to your feet, fumbling with your bag and sweater to make sure they kept your chest covered, “if you wanna be a prick who won’t focus, we’ll do this next week.”

You started to march out of the library, to retreat to safety. You didn’t like the way Billy was looking at you - it was objectifying and disrespectful and vulgar. Billy never once gave a fuck about - or even noticed - you before, but the second you remove a stupid barrier of clothing, suddenly he’s oh so interested. He was such a pig.

But shit, why was it also… kind of hot?

No, it was not hot.

You couldn’t let yourself even entertain that thought because there sure as shit wasn’t anything hot about it. It wasn’t hot that he objectified you, it wasn’t hot that he drank your body in with impropriety, it wasn’t hot that his tongue ran slowly along his lower lip as his eyes met yours with practiced allure.

No, no, no! You could’ve kicked yourself. Nothing about that should’ve been hot, god damn it.

“Oh, come on, killjoy,” Billy grabbed your wrist, spinning you back around to face him, having followed you through the library. His grip was firm as you looked between his face and hand and back again.

The library wasn’t exactly busy on a Friday afternoon, but you looked around to find that the librarian and another student both looked in your direction. It made you even more nervous to know that eyes were on you; what if you got in trouble, what if the librarian reprimands you both for being disruptive? You looked back to Billy, your brows furrowed in annoyance as you whipped your wrist out of his hold with hostility.

“I’m serious, if all you want is to slack off and look at my tits that’s your business.” You immediately clamped your mouth shut, your eyes widening slightly - that is not what you meant to say at all. Oh god, why the fuck did you say that? Shit, you should’ve just told him that you’d regroup next week, that you weren’t going to put up with him. But no, instead you said arguably the stupidest thing you could, and it was clear on Billy’s face that he was relishing in your stupid words, enjoying them even.

He looked back down at your body, luckily hidden behind your bag and sweater, “My business, huh? Sounds to me like permission to stare.”

“No.” You answered firmly; your cheeks and neck felt so fucking warm. You tried to get back on track, tried to shake off the stupid thing you said just a moment ago, “I just want to finish this project. So, go home and jack off to your Playboys all weekend, and then maybe we can actually get some work done next week.”

Despite your jabs, Billy still grinned wickedly, dipping his head a little as he took a step closer, his voice low, “So, that’s what you’re thinking about, huh? Me jacking off? You enjoying that thought?”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find some quick response to that, but you couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. A sound of disbelief left your throat as you gaped with loathing at Billy for a moment. God, you felt like a damn fish trying to breathe out of water. With a glare in your eyes, you clamped your mouth shut, which seemed to be a great amusement to Billy, whose smile widened as a laugh escaped him.

“God, you make it so easy.” He said, shaking his head, “You gotta lighten up, you know?”

You sigh loudly, eyes still staring at him harshly, “Whatever, Hargrove.”

You attempt to walk away once more, but yet again Billy snatches your wrist, “Wait, wait, wait…”

“Stop acting interested in me all of a sudden,” You try to shake your arm out of his hold again, but this time Billy’s grip is tighter, “I’m not in the mood.”

“Look,” his tone was firm as he instructed, “let’s go back over to the table, get some more work done, and I’ll give you a ride home.”

Your eyes narrowed into slits as you studied his face, “I don’t need a ride.”

“You don’t have a car.” He countered immediately.

“I don’t need a ride from you.”

“You don’t, but isn’t it generous that I’m offering?”

“More like devious.”

“I’ll be a total gentleman.”

You laughed right in his face, “You don’t even know the meaning of the word.”

#billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x female reader #stranger things

[aealzx]

Shortly after Mikey had left, Leo was surprised to see a different being enter the room, squeezing through the cracked doorway and padding onto the matted floor. An adult orange cat silently coming to no doubt take up residence on Leo’s lap. But then she froze in place when she spotted another, unfamiliar person there, eyeing Donnie with wary curiosity. “Onion Ring?” Leo spoke quietly, addressing the cat as well as giving Donnie a name as a way to let him know the little furry creature belonged to them.

Donnie had already finished all the food that had been brought in, and was just sitting with his arms around curled knees when the new cat caught his attention. And after Onion Ring unfroze and hesitantly started to approach them while sniffing the air Donnie reached his curled fingers out towards her. Onion Ring stretched her head towards the limb, bobbing with each inhale as her whiskers twitched. Then, to Leo’s surprise, Onion Ring curled her head forward to bump and rub against Donnie’s hand repeatedly, a soft purr rumbling from her.

“That’s surprising. She took forever to even be in the same room as April,” Leo commented quietly, pleased to see the tiny smile Donnie got. Apparently cats were acceptable to him right now.

“Not that surprising,” Mikey commented, slipping back into the room with a glass of orange juice and Donnie’s headphones. “He probably smells a lot more like her daddy than humans do. I caught her sleeping on the three of them a few hours ago. She probably got used to them already. Huh? My precious lil baby girl.” Mikey’s voice pooled into smothering gushing as he reached out to pet Onion Ring with both hands, having passed the other items over to Donnie as soon as he could.

Once the headphones were within reach Donnie quickly grabbed at them and pulled them carefully back onto his head. At first Leo thought the small device was just a form of comfort for Donnie to have, something familiar in an unfamiliar place. But after watching Donnie rapidly tap several subtle buttons on the side he realized they were something else. Was it music? Did that mean he was okay with having them talking, as long as they weren’t yelling? Donnie still wasn’t speaking vocally, but he seemed to be in a better mood once the headphones were in place. His expression relaxed a little more, and as one hand picked up the orange juice to sip the other reached out to pet Onion Ring some more. At least he wasn’t shying away from being in contact with everything. But Leo did notice he would still flinch when he accidentally touched Mikey’s hands, so made a note to still keep his distance for now.

It didn’t take long for Donnie to finish the glass of juice, and after it was gone and Onion Ring wandered off to another corner of the room Leo noticed Donnie seemed to be getting restless. Feet shuffling from one being over the top of the other, to switching and the opposite foot being on top. Adjusting the blanket multiple times. Many glances towards the door, and around the room without actually looking at anything in particular. Eventually Mikey reached out to scoop Onion Ring up when she came back to rub against him, rising to his feet and looking at Donnie. “Hey, why don’t we go back to the living room with the rest of your family? Lil Mikey and Raphy were playing with my other cat earlier. We can see if they can get both Pepper and Onion going,” he offered, giving a bright smile.

Donnie’s gaze locked on Mikey when he started talking, and to Leo’s relief he nodded in response to the offer. Pulling the blanket close, Donnie shifted to stand up as well, semi hesitantly following Mikey out of the room. He was deliberate in keeping well out of range of accidentally bumping into anyone as he silently walked behind, betraying his informal training in silencing his movements. Mikey didn’t mind though, more focused on keeping Onion Ring calm while he brought her to a crowd of unfamiliar, and rather noisy, people. It seemed that Raphael had goaded Don, Leon and April into playing video games with him, and the four were easily reaching decibels that Leo may have been concerned about if they were anywhere other than home.

“HA! Eat dirtbike losers!” April’s triumphant cheer caused Leo to check if Donnie was alright with the volume, eyes moving to him from behind. He didn’t seem to react to it at all though, which made Leo wonder once again what the headphones were doing.

“Oh dang, that was a good one,” Raphael praised as Don let out a frustrated noise.

“April what the hell? I thought we were friends!” Leon’s anguished cry followed along with the rapid clicking of the controller.

“Ohhh, got them playing Junkyard Brawl, huh?” Mikey commented, looking at the game on the screens and coming to stand near the couches. It was a little hard to see with the four players crowding in front, but it looked like they had tried to play it fair by splitting the teams in a way there was one guest and one host. Don and Leon against April and Raphael. And it looked like April and Raphael were barely in the lead.

Raph and Lil Mikey were still snuggled down together on the couch, bothing grinning hugely, and looking over when Mikey’s comment alerted them of his presence. And from that they spotted Donnie following close behind, their smiles growing bigger and eyes brightening.

“Donnie!” Both brothers chimed as Lil Mikey sat up a little straighter and Raph opened an arm to make room for Donnie to silently slide in next to them.

“Feeling a little better?” Raph asked, causing Donnie to look directly at him before Lil Mikey caught his attention. A point at Donnie, then finger almost hooking into his own ear, then an open palm near his chin before being brought down. It was a little hard to be limited to one hand, but Donnie seemed to understand well enough. A single nod was given to both of his brothers as Donnie wiggled to get comfortable in the space tucked in next to Raph.

Strangely enough, having all five of their guests in the same room, most of them so closely snuggled with each other, and otherwise just having fun and relaxing, caused Leo to breathe a heavy sigh of relief as he came to stop a short ways behind the couch. With Onion Ring squirming too much, Mikey let her down to scurry away and hide as he had to chuckle in response to Leo, shifting up next to his brother.

“I know that sigh,” Mikey commented quietly. “Mission finally accomplished, eh?”

The comment earned a soft snicker from Leo, and he loosely folded his arms, a little embarrassed about being so easily read. “Yeah. They’re all safe now. We’ll take a breather before we start to tackle how to get them home.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mikey agreed, giving Leo a thumbs up. “I’ll go check up on Casey and April, and see about trying to introduce them again.” Thankfully even after getting his nose to stop bleeding Mom April was able to keep Casey from immediately trying to talk to their guests again. Despite them being used to April, they still seemed quite skittish around Casey and Mom April. Leo and Mikey weren’t sure why, but they figured it would still be better to take it slow next time. Maybe Mikey would have to tell Casey to treat their guests like cats instead of turtles, and to keep his distance until they came to him.

As Mikey left to check on the others, Leo rested his arms on the back of the couch, giving the three brothers a smile when they looked at him briefly. As usual, Raphael was trying to handicap Don by shoving into his space but not actively blocking him. They��d already been banned from standing in front of each other while playing competitive games since they always ended up too close to the screen. Master Splinter was concerned not only for their health, but also for the equipment. But to Leo’s surprise even April and Leon were just as rambunctious. Somehow April had gotten Leon on the floor, and was sitting on his chest to keep him semi pinned. But Leon didn’t seem all that bothered and was continuing to play the game upside down. It must have been a common experience for him since none of his other brothers were reacting to it either.

“We should play this in Repo’s junkyard,” Lil Mikey commented, watching the others beating each other up in the game.

“I don’t think Ms. Nubbins would let us,” Raphael responded, the rumbling of his voice causing Donnie to glance up to make sure he wasn’t being addressed.

Leo wasn’t sure who Repo or Ms Nubbins were, but it sounded like these four were just as much of a handful as he and his brothers had been. Giving a soft chuckle, Leo shifted his gaze when Master Splinter came to stand next to him.

“Perhaps a request for dinner might be in order,” Master Splinter commented to Leo, calmly watching the others with fondness.

“Sure,” Leo agreed easily, taking out his phone again. Donnie had just eaten, but it would still be good to make sure everyone else would be well fed as well. “How about Thai food?”

His question had been to Master Splinter, but Lil Mikey keyed in on the choice and spoke up. “Ohhh Thai food is terrible to order. Too many peanut dishes.”

“...You don’t like peanuts?” Leo asked, paying attention to them now too.

“Raph’s allergic,” Raph answered simply, still watching the TV for a bit before looking over. “We usually don’t order any Asian, Indian, African, or Mexican food because of it. But If you guys want Thai then I can always have something else.”

Leo’s eyes widened slightly as he immediately grew anxious over the revelation, securely filing that fact away in his mind to never forget. “N’no, it’s fine. We can adjust,” he assured, running through the list of foods Raph said to avoid again. “...What about Italian?”

“Ooo, risotto and mozzarella mezzalune both sound good,” Lil Mikey agreed.

“Hey, you think they have that really cool salmon thing here we got once?” Leon chimed in, apparently paying attention now that food was being discussed.

“Oh, maybe that one pasta stuffed with meat?” Raph added.

“Uhhh, I have to admit I’m not sure what any of those are, but here’s the menu,” Leo responded, leaning over the couch so Raph and Lil Mikey could look at his phone with him.

“Oh! They have seafood risotto, how about that Leo?” Lil Mikey asked, looking over to Leon.

“Sounds awesome. Can we get garlic bread and cheese sticks too?” Leon asked, still stuck under April. “What about you April?”

“You mean after I keep kicking your butt?” April teased, grinning as Leon squawked after her character hit his with a mattress. “Honestly I’m good with anything. Lasagne or spaghetti or whatever.”

“Oh oh, this one for me,” Raph spoke up, pointing at a picture on the phone.

Leo was momentarily taken back when Leon requested three things, but then had to shake his head. Right. Teenagers. This would be quite the bill if he wanted to make sure they were all fed well. “And Donnie?” he asked, noting that Donnie was still watching the TV without reacting to the order being made.

Luckily Lil Mikey offered his help by waving his hand where Donnie could see, getting him to look up and watch him make three motions. And as Donnie took a moment to think, Lil Mikey noticed Leo’s brow furrow and gave him a quick explanation. “He’s not ignoring you. He probably just has his headphones silencing everything so he can’t hear us right now.”

As Leo made a soundless O in understanding and gave a slow nod, Lil Mikey watched the motions Donnie made before looking back to Leo. “Anything with scallops and noodles?”

“Uhhh,” Leo hummed to fill the pause, “Scallop alfredo?” he offered, letting Lil Mikey converse with Donnie again.

“Perfect,” Lil Mikey grinned, giving a thumbs up.

Adding the dish to the order, Leo scrolled through the menu to find what he wanted and called to his own brothers. “Don and Raph, is the usual okay for you guys?”

“Yeah, just make sure they don’t forget the onions this time,” Raphael accepted.

“Do the sea bass one this time, please,” Don requested, getting tired of shoving back against Raphael and casually stepping out of the way to make him stumble. It earned a chuckle from some of the others at first, until Leon took the opening while Raphael was semi distracted and knocked his player out of bounds.

“Oi!” Raphael protested as Lil Mikey, Raph and April gave a chorus of impressed and slightly mocking ‘Oo’s.

“Looks like we have an opportunistic leader on their side,” Don commented, just a hint of smugness in his planned opening being easily utilized.

Leon’s brow ended up furrowing a bit at the comment, and instead of gloating he just quickly responded with, “Actually Raph’s our leader.”

He hadn’t expected such a simple comment to distract Don enough to allow April the chance to take his player out of the game as well, ending with just her and Leon dueling. But after a stretch of consideration, Don just voiced a single thought about it. “Huh.”

Raphael on the other hand had more to say. “... Say what now?”

“Well, I guess we trade off every now and then, now. But growing up it was just Raph,” Leon clarified. “And now sometimes April takes over too. It just depends on who’s the most capable at the time.”

It was a thought that Raphael and Don hadn’t considered before, and inevitably caused them to fall quiet in thought. Leo had always been their leader, and to have anything different had always felt like a permanent overthrow to them. Unless it was situations like the recent adventure where Leo was simply not there to lead them. But to trade off? To just temporarily change leadership? It was a novel idea, and Raphael and Don both looked at each other before they ended up looking silently at Leo.

“Oh, don’t even,” Leo shot back, having finished the order and put away his phone just in time to see them stare at him. “We all know what happens when the rest of you try to lead. And it’s not like it was ever my decision in the first place,” he defended, looking to Master Splinter for support and causing the others to follow his gaze.

Master Splinter was quiet, a hand held near his chin in thought until he saw his sons looking to him for direction. “Hmm. It has been some time since we’ve explored the option. Perhaps there would be some merit in considering it once more,” he admitted.

“HA!” Raphael burst, turning to slap Don’s raised hands with his own. It seemed Don was more excited for Raphael after the comments than for himself, but he was still grinning.

Leo on the other hand had a dropped jaw before he picked it up to protest. “Master Splinter! You can’t be serious- they’re not ready!” he scrambled, only able to fall back on the complaints from his childhood since it had been that long ago when the topic was last addressed.

To everyone’s surprise though, it wasn’t Master Splinter that responded.

“No one is,” Raph spoke up with a tone somewhere between amused and incredulous. It caused the others to fall silent and turn to stare at him, prompting him to repeat himself and elaborate. “No one is ever ready to be a leader. Sometimes you just have to, and sometimes you get to learn from others and have backup. But no one is just born a leader. They become one.”

The comments were enough to earn complete silence from everyone in the room now, April’s achievement of securing victory against Leon going uncelebrated as they ended up looking to Raph along with their hosts. And this time Master Splinter remained quiet, allowing someone else to speak reason for once.

It was enough motivation for Raph to continue again, looking over to Leo with a slight grin. “You and I were leaders because we had to be. We’re the big brothers, and we gotta keep the others safe. But I bet you weren’t ready for it either.”

Leo found he couldn’t answer immediately. A rare moment, especially since even Raphael didn’t have a snarky comment or jab. But eventually he let out a slow breath and rested his arms on the back of the couch once more. “....Yeah…. You’re right,” he admitted with a bit of reluctance. He had been the most capable and responsible of the four of them, but that hadn’t meant he was ready to be a good leader. And he’d already had many times where he’d berated himself for his own mistakes in the role.

Raph just grinned, proud to have guessed right. “It’s scary at first to let someone else lead. But it’s actually kind of nice to sit on the sidelines sometimes, and see all the cool stuff your lil brothers can do. Like saving the world from aliens and stuff.”

The comments earned a little more stillness from Leo, marveling at how hearing it from someone else who had apparently been in a very similar situation to him was happy about the change. He followed Raph’s gaze to Leon when he mentioned saving the world from aliens, and as Leon gave a rather embarrassed smile and shrug back Leo could only think of Don and the Triceratons. Mikey and Kluh. And Raphael being there for all of them during everything. He didn’t have a response, but the quiet was long enough for Don to make a correcting comment to dispel his discomfort with the quiet.

“...We’re actually all the same age,” Don pointed out in a mild hush, earning a snicker from Raphael. Of course Don would have to make sure the correct facts were known. But what they didn’t expect was for Lil Mikey to respond after a few connections were made in his own mind because of that fact.

“You guys are quadruplets and can’t even ninja mind meld?!”

____________________

Previous

____________________

Hhhhhh please excuse any clunkiness int eh writing. I had thoughts but stringing them together this time was hard. Which also resulted in this being twice as long as I usually do

#my art #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #cross dimension kidnapping #rise + 2003 crossover #fanfic #writing #long post #Leo #April

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Could I get an Hc for how the M6 would react to an Mc that finds out they used to eat a lot of weird creatures and monsters.

I may be obsessed with delicious in dungeon, but like maybe Mc got to try dragon meat and realized that despite it being an 'exotic' food, it tastes familiar. Only gets more surprised. The more weirder foods they end up trying that rnd up tasting familiar.

The Arcana HCs: M6 when MC eats monsters

Julian

From a scholarly point of view, he's actually quite interested in learning more and documenting your finds as medical research

Who knows what medicinal properties these creatures might contain that have gone previously ignored? You could find some miraculous cure or random medicine if you keep snacking your way through the monstrous ecosystem!

Then again, he'd be lying if he said that practice was just as easy as theory. He's pretty well traveled himself, but some of the things you seem so eager to dig into are just ... so ... off-putting

He'll push through with most things but he will draw the line at anything resembling a plague beetle. He was force-fed one of those once and he never wants to experience that again

(he'd never try to keep you from making your own decisions, but to say that watching you eat things resembling plague beetles doesn't turn his stomach and make him anxious would be a lie)

Still one of the best researchers you could have helping you

He's got the background to understand physical nutrients and the importance of a diverse diet - and he's plenty dedicated to you

Asra

They are even more enthusiastic than you are

Sometimes you wish you knew what his limits were, because if things keep going at the rate that they are you might find out that he doesn't even have any

Faust is not helping either - she can and will help distract you if you've finally come across something you're hesitant to try so Asra can sneak a mouthful without being caught

On the plus side, they've tried so many different cuisines already that they have plenty of ideas when it comes to figuring out how to cook something new - and spice combinations you wouldn't dare dream of on your own

He also happens to have plenty of tried-and-true remedies for food poisoning as well (wonder why he learned all of those ...) and is more than happy to share with you if things go south

Absurdly creative with the whole cooking process in general

Keeps trying to incorporate magic. This does occasionally backfire when the beast being cooked is also magical by nature, and the two don't mix as intended

Nadia

She's politely unconvinced, but still mildly invested

Is she personally interested in trying all manner of unconventional dishes? Sure, if it's a well-established recipe from a trustworthy source and contributes to her cultural education

Your recipes, darling MC, do not cleanly fit into that category

She'll still try some, but only after you've been able to replicate the dish multiple times to the point that it's reliably delicious and safe to eat. Otherwise, she'll happily pass her portion to you

However, once you do find a creature that can be reliably cooked as part of a nutritious diet, she is all ears

Do you know what the state of Vesuvia is right now? Any new food source is a welcome food source, especially if it's a resource that isn't being tapped into otherwise. Tell her more about its properties

Will work with you and other nutritionists, chefs, and civil engineers to find a way to introduce it to the populace so they can take advantage of it

Who knows? Maybe if it's popular enough, it can be purposefully cultivated and turned into a major food export ...

Muriel

Not remotely surprised by your habits, for multiple reasons

For starters, he spent his teens living with Asra. In the woods. Who do you think came up with all those natural remedies for food poisoning??? Not the kid picking every mushroom they saw!

Second of all, he lives off of the land himself. The reason his grocery list is so short is because he's learned to find most of his sustenance in the woods around him. You're just doing the same

Third of all (and most importantly) - if it's food, it's food. It's that simple

Will eat anything you hand him as soon as he knows it won't poison him, no hesitation in sight and no further questions asked

His only concern about the whole thing is sustainability. He knows firsthand what happens when something throws the delicate balance of an ecosystem out of whack and he wants to make sure that doesn't happen on accident because you're new to it

Never really stops to appreciate any of the good flavors at first, but eventually develops a palette for the different spices

Insanely good at assessing what kind of nutrients it'll have

Portia

Being an excellent chef herself, she doesn't see much point in eating mostly monster food once the initial excitement has worn off. It was fun for several meals, but now she wants bread

This does not change her general fascination with monsters or magical beasts in general, though, or her overall interest in helping you on your special monster cuisine endeavors

Share the monster facts - all the monster facts

Will work with you on putting together notebooks full of information on monster behaviors, nutritional values, hunting and preparation methods, and ideal flavor profiles

Unrivaled at giving good cooking advice. The meat's good to eat, but too tough? Marinate it in something acidic

It's too spongy to be a starch, but too starchy to be a vegetable? Try roasting or grilling it plain and putting sauce on top

Knows all about how to maximize the "scraps" so that nothing edible goes wasted, and knows how to do it in a way that still tastes good and fills you up

Curious enough to try most of it, smart enough to avoid poisoning

Lucio

Okay, okay, so he'll admit it - he does get squeamish (just a little bit) at the thought of eating the monsters that tried to kill him earlier and he's not particularly fond of revisiting the "eat or be eaten" mentality that was instilled in him as a small child

That said, he is curious

And he very much enjoys all the hunting (and bounties!) involved

You're telling him that he gets to chase down a rare beast, enjoy the thrill of conquering it and the bragging rights that entails, get paid for disposing of it, and then get a free meal after he forgets about it for a couple hours? Sign him up!

Just, uh. Just don't remind him what exactly he's eating if it's from one of the grosser monsters. Devouring a deadly ancient boar? Awesome! Devouring a worm monster? ... yeah, don't ruin it

Has no issues with putting more resources into what you're trying to do. It means free food, bragging rights about killing and eating monsters, and dinner not getting dull and boring

Will not-so-subtly feed anything he doesn't like to Mercedes and Melchior when he thinks you can't see him

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[srraphim]

(𓆩♱𓆪)."𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑫𝑬”

ׂ╰┈➤.Who knows that a mighty fallen could be possible to subdued?

╰➤𝐖𝐇𝐁.𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫.𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫

A/N:

This leftover starting to rot in my fridgeeeee

(⚠︎)𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑳𝑼𝑫𝑬𝑫:

𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞.&.𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞.𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫. 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲.𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫. 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝.𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞.𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞. 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝.𝐄𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝.𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩. 𝐆.𝐍.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐎𝐎𝐂.

𝑺𝑼𝑩𝑫𝑼𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑳𝑼𝑪𝑰𝑭𝑬𝑹 is feat no person had ever, nor bear an audacity to, attempt and surprisingly manages to achieve it. The first fallen angel of the sky was not someone to be described as a servile to─apart from god─anyone, let alone a mere human. But, here you are, with an intimidating figure, looming on your back.

𝑺𝑼𝑩𝑫𝑼𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑳𝑼𝑪𝑰𝑭𝑬𝑹 would put you on a prominent spotlight for both realms. With each, having a separate reaction on the news. If paired by a group however, majority of the angels─primarily the seraphim─would response antagonistically. Attacking hell with a new-found ferociousness than usual, earmarking the latest place you'd gone and maybe─just maybe─might able to ambush you and eliminate you on the spot. On the other hand, devils─primarily the paradise lost─would be overjoyed and put you on the highest regard in the same way they did to Lucifer. They might even insist that you should 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 stay in paradise lost after the news of angels, attacking the other parts of hell, make known.

𝑺𝑼𝑩𝑫𝑼𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑳𝑼𝑪𝑰𝑭𝑬𝑹 might gives you an open passage to have your way in him in exhibition, if you play your cards wise. Despite candidly proclaiming his submission towards you, Lucifer is still the very pride itself, he highly regards his reputation and images for the many eyes. Additionally, he's initially an angel. So involving him into these kinds of things would be proven an endeavor. Though, since you're now the master of this fallen angel, you had the upper hand. You can mold this pride of his by 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 the way he see things. Make him get used to your attention, showered him in praises then withdraw back when he starts leaning into it. Correct all the things you find unpleasant in him before giving your validation. Make him believes that 𝘨𝘰𝘥 gives himself to you by fate, wanting you take place in him with Lucifer after the chronicles of his fall. Let him believe that being yours is something he should've known from the start. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘰𝘵? 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙙?

𝑺𝑼𝑩𝑫𝑼𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑳𝑼𝑪𝑰𝑭𝑬𝑹 means you gotta do some caring for him, primally his maimed wings. Though, you're not entirely, nor expected to, committed to such responsibility. so, you're wide-free to refuse however you like. It just becomes subconscious for him to find solace in your touch whenever you check up, seldomly or frequently, on his condition. While he appreciates the love of his subordinates and his people, the love of someone who had a special place in your heart; a companion─a lover, would always be different.

@srraphim .24.4.24. Minors DNI

#what in hell is bad #whb x reader #yandere what in hell is bad #yandere whb #𓆩♱𓆪.srraphim.

[sequencefairy]

I've started writing this post like, four times already, and I keep discarding the drafts instead of continuing because it's too close, still. But i know i need to unpack this instead of just letting it live inside of me to fester and rot and make me bitter, which will just mean that the haters won, because it's their fault the joy is gone.

Something happened this weekend here on tumblr and elsewhere in other fanspaces and across the wider internet. Something horrible. I've been through fandom implosions before, I was in the trenches with VLD, I walked through the end of Bleach, but this was orders of magnitude worse.

The meanness. The cruelty. The way so many people forgot that the people on their TV, laptop and phone screens are people. That the words they're gleefully typing into their little comment boxes and their posts are being seen by real people, and not just the people at which they are directed.

This fandom has long had a problem with passive, and also less passive, racism. This fandom has long had a problem with boundaries between ourselves and the people we are fans of. I think these two things combined into a horrid creature that was beyond the imagining of anyone.

I slept very little this weekend. I have been more anxious the last three days than I have ever been in my life. I worried every time I opened the tumblr app what thing I might find in my inbox or as a reply on one of my posts. I worried about friends in the fandom, who were dealing not only with the barrage of vitriol not directed at them, but also who were receiving it themselves for daring to be supportive of the general plan.

I am lucky. I have spaces to retreat to. I have friends who are both in and not in this fandom, who have checked in with me to make sure I'm doing okay. My partner has shouldered the bulk of managing the house this weekend because I couldn't. It was too much to think about how to deal with that when all this was going on inside my phone and my laptop. I am also lucky because I am not a person of colour.

Watching folks in this fandom who I know to be folks of colour wade into the fray and knowing that they are seeing the same takes that I was seeing about Steven and about Ryan, makes my heart want to shrivel up in my chest. It hurt me to watch people turn on Watcher this weekend, but I cannot imagine how much it hurt my friends, who might have been watching people they used to trust or enjoy or feel like they knew, spew racist and hateful rhetoric over a business decision they didn't agree with.

I'm not going to litigate whether things could have been done differently, because it really doesn't matter to me, but I am going to say that a level of trust has been shattered here in this fandom space. I can't have fun with people about Watcher content when I have to check and make sure they weren't among the people who were calling for violence against a man whose crime was poorly communicating a business decision to a fandom they used to extoll as kind and generous. If my trust in the wider fandom has been broken then I have to assume our fandom friends of colour's trust has also been shredded.

This has fundamentally changed how I want to engage with and in fandom, and not for the better. I don't have an answer for what this means for me going forward, but I am just so sad. I am so sad that a place of great joy has been sapped of that feeling and I don't know how I'm going to get it back.

I don't know if I want to.

#things jess says #maybe i will have more to say later but like #this weekend has been a lot #and i have finally come all the way down from angry #and all that's left is this despair

[pennylanefics]

Nighttime Comfort - Seth Jarvis

a/n: thanks to @human-trainwreck for the idea of the "best friend's younger brother" trope! i got the idea and ran with it and finish this in one night <3 if anyone has more seth ideas, send them my way! i had more ideas and definitely missed some things...part 2 maybe?? 👀

summary: you've always seen your best friend's little brother as just that, until one night, after thinking about him for months, everything changes when he comforts you after nightmares

warnings: mention of nightmares (no descriptions), slight age gap (i envisioned seth being 22 and reader being 23 or 24, so not terrible, but it's brought up multiple times)

word count: ~4.2k

“Seth should be gone by the time we get home, so you won’t have to deal with him while I’m out,” your best friend Daisy says to you as you near her home. The two of you had been out shopping all day, finally having time to spend with each other after your hectic schedules failed to line up for so long.

With your job at a local publishing company and the influx of demands your boss needed to meet the proper deadlines, and her traveling with her boyfriend, who is a hockey player in the NHL, it was hard to meet up. But finally, now that the off-season is here and your work has slowed down some, you could meet up and catch up on all the lost time.

“You know I don’t mind him,” you tell her. “He’s fun to be around.” She rolls her eyes at your words and you can’t help but laugh.

You grew up next to Daisy and Seth in Winnipeg and as time went on, you and Daisy became nearly inseparable, doing everything together and playing in each other’s backyards every day after school. That also led you to becoming rather close with her younger brother, only two years younger than you and her, but he was always around as their parents practically forced Daisy to include him.

Not that you minded, he was very amusing and a great joy; he was extremely chaotic and energetic, and was always trying to get you to laugh and mess with you in a teasing and fun way. Daisy was so embarrassed by him every time, but you truly weren’t bothered by it. 

Things changed a little right before you entered high school. During the summer between eighth grade and ninth, your family moved away, although it was still in the same district and within driving distance, no more than fifteen minutes. It did hinder your ability to see her and Seth outside of school or on the weekends. Things did go back to normal when you and Daisy got your licenses and could see each other whenever.

As the years went on, things continued to change and shift. With Seth going into the NHL, and Daisy becoming a WAG for the Winnipeg Jets, you rarely had time to see them over the past couple of years, but through different interviews and videos of him from the Hurricanes and other media, you could tell Seth was still the same guy you grew up with and knew so well.

“I haven’t seen him in a while anyway. I think the last time was around Christmas, when he came home. That was almost seven months ago.”

“Believe me, seven months is not enough time away from him,” she grumbles, making you throw your head back in laughter.

He was always the life of the party. He could light up a room with his energy and sweet smile just by walking into it, and he’s cheered you up countless times after numerous events that upset you over the years.

And you didn’t want to believe it, but deep down, you always felt something more for him. Some little voice in your mind was screaming that he’s a sweetheart and would be an incredible partner. But you pushed that idea down for many reasons, one of which is because you figured he never would see you as anything more than his older sister’s best friend; it was an unspoken rule, really, and neither of you wanted to cross that line.

The two of you drag your number of bags into her house, where you were staying for the week since her parents were on vacation and your apartment was being renovated because of a flood issue on your floor.

“Just set them down and we can go through everything when I get back,” she states.

She needed to run an errand with her boyfriend, to check on his grandmother about an hour away and bring her the prescription she needed. That meant you would be alone for the next three hours or so, and after the long day you had, it was exactly what you needed.

She left shortly after dropping everything off, and in the meantime, you showered and then ordered some food. Everything in the house was calm, you were watching your favorite TV show on the TV, and it felt peaceful to have this kind of downtime after a full, busy day.

But that peace was quickly ruined an hour or so later. The time rolled around to 7:45 and in comes Seth and a couple guys, who you recognize as fellow players on the Hurricanes. Turning around, you stare at them, wide-eyed in surprise, and as soon as Jarvy takes the sight of you in, he shouts excitedly.

“Oh my god! What are you doing here?!” He yells, running over to you on the couch. Standing, you jump into his arms to hug him tightly, inhaling the musky scent of his cologne, a smell you’ve thought about every day since you got a whiff of it on Christmas. 

“My apartment is being worked on and since Daisy and I haven’t had time to see one another very much, she invited me to stay here. I know she said you are back here for a short while, but she said you’d be out.”

“What, not so happy to see me??” He teases, shoving your shoulder playfully once you pull away from the hug. “Yeah, well, the guys and I wanted to go to some bars, but after sitting around we decided to come back here and play video games instead.” He points to the two men behind him, one who has blond hair and piercing blue eyes and one has short brown hair and deep brown eyes.

“This is Jack and Jesperi, or you can call him KK,” he points to the brown-eyed hockey player, who smiles sweetly at you and waves.

“Nice to meet you guys. I can move up to Daisy’s room if you’d prefer the living room. She’s still gone and I don’t know when she’ll be back.”

“Oh no, don’t worry about that!” Jarvy stops you from moving your things. “We’re going to the basement to play, we won’t bother you at all. Unless we have to come back up for snacks and drinks, but we’ll try to keep it down.”

Chuckling softly, you nod and watch as they file into the furnished basement, yelling and shouting as they go. Thankfully, the noise wasn’t too loud to distract you, so you go back to watching your show with no worry.

As the hours tick by and your eyes start growing heavier, you knew you should have headed up to Daisy’s room to get some rest instead of on the couch, although their couch was rather comfy. It was a large sectional, big enough to fit their entire family for movie nights.

You were curled up in one corner of the L-shaped section, under a soft, fuzzy blanket that was keeping you warm. The low lighting that you had set in the living room and with the quiet lull of your comfort TV show was enough to ease you to sleep, though you were unaware.

Suddenly, you are jolting up, your neck feeling slightly sweaty and clammy, your breathing slightly erratic and your eyes trying to adjust back to the bright TV that remained on. Slowly, you become aware of your surroundings and turn to find Seth sitting near you, a worried expression on his face.

“Are you alright?” He wonders, his voice low and calming, not wanting to startle you anymore than he has. “You were mumbling something in your sleep and shaking a little.”

Your hand wipes across your face as you shift your body to sit up a little. Being in the moment, you were finally able to get a really good look at Seth, since earlier you were too taken by the excitement of seeing him and meeting new people.

His hair was long in the back, but on the sides, you could tell that he had recently gotten them shaved down some, but the top section flopped over to hide that area; it was something that was visible when he wore a hat, and it was a look you always liked. His facial hair was newly trimmed, his beard slightly scruffy and his mustache somewhat full.

He was wearing an old Canes t-shirt, the neckline cut off to fit him loosely, and a pair of basketball shorts that were slightly smaller than usual, riding up his leg and showing a small glimpse of the tattoo on his right thigh.

“I-I was having a weird dream,” you murmur, taking a couple deep breaths. Seth moves a little closer, sensing all you needed was some comfort. “What time is it?”

“Around 11:30. Daisy called me and said something came up and she won’t able to make it back tonight. She said she tried calling you but you weren’t answering. Now I see why,” he answers with a lighthearted laugh.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to fall asleep out here. I should head upstairs.”

Seth thinks for a moment before he holds his hand up, silently telling you to stay put.

“Give me two minutes,” he says before darting off. You sat there, confused as hell as he ran up the stairs, leaving you alone once again.

You quickly text Daisy back, letting her know you had fallen asleep and everything was good, and that you’d see her in the morning, before reaching for the glass of water that had been left untouched for the past few hours and taking a large sip. 

Minutes later, Seth comes trudging down the stairs with his comforter and an extra blanket, along with two pillows. He also had a change of clothes for himself, and once he reaches the couch, he piles everything onto the cushions at your feet.

“We’re having a little sleepover,” he states. “My sister ditched you so I’m stepping in. Plus we haven’t spent time together in a long time so we have to make up for it.” He winks and laughs at your shocked face.

“You really don’t have to do this. What about KK and Jack? Aren’t they downstairs?”

“Nope. They left right before you woke up. They’re staying in a hotel nearby so they’re gone for the night. Just you and me.” 

After he gets everything set up, he runs off to the bathroom down the hall to change and when he returns in a pair of sweats and a different t-shirt, he sighs heavily and stares down at the couch.

“Okay, so I’ll sleep this way, and you can sleep with your legs out that way so you have more room,” he tells you, waving his hands all over. He specifically pointed to the spot you were sitting in, how he’d have his legs on the cushions jutting out and you would sleep perpendicular to him.

“Where would my pillow go?” You wonder, grabbing onto the extra one he had from his bed. You can’t help but smile at the scent that covers it, a mixture of Seth’s shampoo and conditioner and his cologne. His comforter was the same way, soaked in the smell of his body wash, a woods-y and earthy scent that you were most familiar with, similar to his cologne.

“Here,” he gets situated on the couch, his legs stretching straight out on the cushion. He places the pillow down on his legs and pats it, signaling that’s where you can lay. It was nothing out of the ordinary, really, the three of you used to sleep on each other like this when you were younger, more innocent.

Not that he was asking in an inappropriate way now, but it was something you figured you’d grown out of. But being too tired and too scared to fight, you just laugh it off and get under the covers. He left his comforter for you and used the two blankets for himself, something you found unfair to him.

You place your head in his lap, against the pillow, and immediately, his hands start playing with your hair softly, making sure not to tug at any knots that he couldn’t see. He was more so twirling the ends for his own comfort, something you picked up on when you were kids.

After laying there for a bit, no words spoken between the two of you, the guilt of him being down here, keeping you company was rising in your chest; you knew you shouldn’t have felt this way, but he didn’t have to do all of this.

“Seth, you don’t have to sit down here with me,” you suddenly sit up, looking over at him. A hurt and confused look crosses his face as he adjusts his body.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to, trust me. I know how you used to struggle with nightmares and no one should be left alone after having one.” His voice is gentle and soothing, trying to get across the fact that he wants to be here with you, and it’s no obligation or issue at all.

“I think I’ll be okay,” you whisper. But he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. 

“Well I’m not leaving,” he shakes his head. “What’s going on? I thought it would be nice to see each other again and be with one another now that you’re here.”

You pause and let his words sink in. He was right. Why were you pushing back? But with one look into his brown eyes, lit by the soft glow of a nearby salt lamp you had turned on earlier, you were very aware.

You had fallen for Jarvy and now there was no denying it.

You think back to the last time you saw him, in December. You couldn’t quit stealing glances at him throughout the day, watching as he laughed with his loved ones and how bright his unique smile was, how much you loved seeing it and how you longed to be the reason he was smiling so joyfully.

How you longed to hold his hand and cuddle up next to him on the couch, watching whatever Christmas movie was playing on the TV, surrounded by your family and his, having him press kisses to your temple.

It made your chest feel all warm and fuzzy thinking about what being his partner would be like. Was he serious in times when it was needed? Or did he used humor and laughter to cope with everything?

“(Y/N)?” He waves his hand in front of your face, bringing you back down to earth. You sigh softly and grin at him.

“Sorry, was just…thinking about something. But you’re right, it is nice to see you and be able to spend time with just you…” you trail off, hoping the tone of your voice didn’t give your little crush away. He smiles at you and opens his arms.

“So how about we cuddle instead? I’ve been told I give wonderful cuddles in times of need like this,” he states playfully, which in turn makes you giggle. He gives you that bright, wide smile as you move your body, but before you can super comfortable, you motion for him to switch positions and lay parallel with you, so both of your legs were on the actual couch rather than the sectional.

Since the space was big enough, you both fit rather comfortably, once Seth finally gets settled. You curl into his left side, nuzzling your face into chest, your eyes fluttering closed. What you couldn’t tell was the fact that Seth’s heart was racing in his chest at the turn of events. 

He’s now under his own comforter, your legs tangling with his underneath. His arms wrap around you, holding you close to him, and one is softly rubbing up and down your back underneath the covers. It’s such a sweet and intimate movement, and it makes your own heart beat faster.

Silence falls over the two of you, neither of you knowing what to say, but instead, you enjoy the silence and the presence of each other.

“Would now be an acceptable time to admit that I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time?” He whispers, avoiding moving in case you wanted to pull away from him. But to his surprise, you stay put, reaching for his right hand that was stroking up and down your arm.

“You have?” You wonder, a little taken aback by his admission, threading your fingers with his. He watches in curiosity but smiles as he feels your touch in his.

“Yeah. Ever since you came home from school that one day in eighth grade, I was in sixth. You said some boy made a comment about you and you cried to me because Daisy wasn’t home yet. I-”

“You started telling me all these strange things about what the kid does and how awful he is to try and get me to laugh,” you fill in his sentence, remembering back to that day as clear as can be.

Seth had started telling you weird things that were very obviously not true, but what else is an eleven year old supposed to say? He was making things up like, “he keeps his boogers on a piece of notebook paper in his binder” or “his fingernails grow so fast he has to have them cut every day, and then he saves them to try and get in the Guinness Book of World Records for most amount of nail shavings collected”. Outrageously ridiculous statements.

But by the end, you were laughing with him, forgetting about all the mean things he said about you, and thanks to Jarvy, feeling better about yourself, even though you knew none of what he was saying was true.

“I know we were never super close the way that you and Daisy are, but I could never deny my crush for you. I expected you to think it was weird, considering I’m her younger brother and that’s all I knew I’d be. But goddamn, seeing you again, especially in such a soft and laid-back setting, it’s reignited that feeling.”

You were truly speechless. You had no idea what to say. He really had a crush on you?

“Then I think it’s fair to admit that I also like you, but pushed it away because I thought you only ever saw me as, well, as your older sister’s best friend, I thought it would be weird. But I like you a lot, Seth.”

His hand drops yours and it comes to rest on the side of your face, gently bringing your chin up to look up at him. His eyes were filled with adoration and tenderness as his hand cupped your cheek, careful with the amount of pressure he was using, letting you know you could push him away at any point still.

“So when was the moment you fell for me?” He asks, that crooked smile threatening to break. Heat rises to your cheeks when you realize you don’t have a story similar to his.

“This past holiday season. When you came home for Christmas, I realized quite a few things, and one of them is I can’t deny that I have feelings for you and wish what it would be like to be yours,” you whisper to him, gazing into his eyes. His thumb rubs against the apple of your cheek as you explain your side. He then takes a moment to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and it sends your heart into a frenzy.

“Oh really?” He pushes in a teasing manner. “Like what?”

“Like falling asleep in your arms, but in a more romantic way than platonic way when we were younger. Being able to come up and hug and kiss you whenever, wearing your jersey to your games, knowing that only you and I know that I’m yours and the most important person in the crowd wearing your number.” He can’t help the blush that dusts his cheeks at your last comment. “And I can assume that’s something you’ve thought about plenty of times, right?”

Seth laughs and nods his head, still looking down at you with so much love.

“I won’t lie, I have. And you’d be able to get a WAG playoff jacket, and how adorable you’d look in them.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as he continues to hold your cheek in his hand.

“You know, my parents always joked with your parents about when we’d get together. And Daisy always shut them down whenever she heard them talk about it because how weird, right? But there was one night, a few years back, right before I was drafted. We were in the backyard, looking up at the stars, and she told me I should go for it with you, if I liked you. How she thought we’d be good together, how I’d treat you right and how you would love me for as I am. I think she could always sense that I liked you more than a friend, but was too scared to say it because you two were friends first, and pretty close.”

You are stunned by his words. You never knew Daisy said that, but to hear that she thought her brother was good enough for you, you knew that this decision, or whatever outcome for tonight was going to be, it was going to be a good choice.

Seth is a good guy, and you’ve seen this for many years. Now, you are seeing him in a different light, one where his smile sends butterflies to your stomach rather than a simple “Daisy’s younger brother is so adorable” kind of way. One where you got to see the fun and excitable, puppy-dog energy side but also his serious and down-to-earth side where he could settle those feelings and be real with you.

“Now that I think about it, around that time she did start trying to push me for gossip on if I thought you were cute or if I was seeing anyone, because she was wanting to set me up with someone. And I’m going to safely bet that it was you.”

He chuckles and then clears his throat, becoming all serious again. But you have one more comment you need to get out.

“I love your smile,” you state. His cheeks redden slightly and your own smile tugs at your lips. “I’m not sure what it is about it, but every time I saw it in an interview, or some fun little video, and especially at Christmas, I can’t help but fall harder and harder each time.”

Your statement elicits that lovely smile from him, but in a more bashful sense, something you never thought you’d see.

“You’re so adorable,” you giggle, reaching up to hold his face in your hand as well. The tension between the two of you was thick, and with your breathing mixing together, you were starting to get dizzy from it all. 

This was all so much.

“Can I…” he starts, but hesitates, trying to gauge the look in your eyes. He takes a deep breath and then continues. “Can I please kiss you now?” 

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you from how he phrases his words. He sounded so desperate but also so careful.

“Please,” you beg quietly, inching your hands into his hair to tug at the locks at the back of his neck to pull him down towards you. Within seconds, your lips meet in a searing but gentle and nervous kiss, both of you testing the waters for now. But when Seth feels you leaning more into it, he deepens it just slightly, not wanting to go too far tonight, but also wanting you to know he’s serious about this and it wasn’t a one-off thing.

The kiss ends much to your dismay when Jarvy pulls back, his forehead resting against yours.

“Go on a date with me,” he all but demands. This elicits a giggle from you before you kiss him once more.

“Of course I will,” you reply, moving down to cuddle back up with him. 

Finally, the two of you were settled in all cozy, no longer on edge and wondering if one thing is going to upset the other. Now that the admission of your feelings was done and over with, the two of you could relax against each other, knowing this meant more than just two friends falling asleep with one another.

With his soft touch running along your back, soothing you to sleep, you were out like a light in minutes, but Jarvy stayed up, watching whatever episode of your show that was on, often looking down at you to make sure you remained asleep. 

He fell asleep not long after, the grin on his face remaining there like it was stuck forever, holding the person he loves most in the world, feeling like he was on cloud nine, knowing life could only get better now that you two had admitted your years-worth of pent up feelings

#seth jarvis #seth jarvis imagines #seth jarvis x reader #seth jarvis imagine #seth jarvis fanfic #hockey #hockey fanfic #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

[daenaera-t]

The Bastard Queen

chapter 3 warning:none summary: A certain meeting may change things with in the family.

Inside the old-looking castle, in one of the many rooms, adults could be seen inside the council room as they all sat around the table. About an hour had gone by since the incident in the yard, and rumors were going all around about Rhaenyra's children's parentage.

The said princess found herself sitting as she and her once longtime best friend, the queen Alicent Hightower, stared at one another after the slight argument they just had before Alicent was demanding for the meeting to end. King Viserys agreed to his wife's demand, rising up to his feet while everyone followed, all of them except Rhaenyra as she thought of the words she was about to say to the queen sitting right across from her.

"Wait. I wish to speak."

Rhaenyra announces, standing up while everyone else sits back down, except for Alicent.

"I have felt the... strife between our families of late, my Queen.

And for any offense given by mine, I apologize. But we are one house. And long before that, we were friends." Alicent stays silent as they both remember the times together.

"My daughter Daenaera will inherit the Iron Throne after me. I propose we betroth her to your son, Aegon. Ally ourselves... once and for all…..Let them rule together."

Viserys smiles as he slams his hand on the table happily.

 "A most judicious proposition."

Many people over the kingdom could see how inseparable

Princess Daenaera Velaryon and Prince Aegon Targaryen were and how very fond they were of one another. Aegon was known to drink a lot and avoided his duties, but with Daenaera it was different. The two were not the same age but Aegon always had a soft spot for the girl.

Anytime she saw them together, Rhaenyra couldn't help but think of how her daughter looked at the boy, something she used to look at her own uncle that way.

She remembers a time her father had told her that his son had once asked him if anyone could be more beautiful than Daenaera, so enamored by her beauty. Her long brown hair and dark eyes, similar features to her real father and her brothers. If anything, Viserys was completely fine with betrothing his son to his granddaughter, having thought about it before. Licking her lips, Alicent doesn't say anything as she thinks of her words. She, like everyone else, had noticed the connection between her son and the princess.

"Additionally, if Syrax brings forth another clutch of eggs, your son Aemond will have his choice of them… “Rhaenyra continues, smiling.

 “…A symbol of our good will.”

While she had been speaking, the queen was continuously glancing down at the table and the princess, murmuring her name in a slight warning tone as she glanced down in the direction of her chest.

Following her gaze with furrowed brows, Rhaenyra's eyes widened, her body tensing at the sight of her milk seeping right through her dress, arms quickly coming up to cover it before the lords could see as she sat back down in her seat.

"My dear, a dragon's egg is a handsome gift." Viserys states.

"The King and I thank you for your offer and we will consider it duly." Alicent tells her, glancing at her husband. 

"You must rest now, husband."

Nodding in agreement, the king only whispers a small 'yes' to agree with his wife as he rises up to his feet. Once the king and the queen were out of the room, everyone else stood up, 

Rhaenyra was still waiting in her seat until she was all by herself to leave. As they walked back to their chambers, the king and queen spoke about the princess' offer and Viserys being happy to betroth the two children to wed one another. He knew his son wouldn't mind it, knowing his fondness of the girl.

A couple hours had gone by since the Targaryen princess had given her offer to the king and the queen, and her chambers were quiet as a few people could be seen inside.

The sun was slowly beginning to set, not as bright as it used to be with the usual bright blue sky turning into a slow grey color. The crackling of fire could be heard from the fireplace in the princess' chambers in hopes of giving warmth to her children.

Standing a few feet away, Rhaenyra held baby Joffrey in her arms as she quietly shushed his cries, moving her arms in a slow pace to rock him back and forth. Just in front of her, her violet eyes watched as Harwin was saying goodbye to his children. It had been decided that the man's father, Lord Lyonel Strong, would take him back to Harrenhall since he was heir after his father, who was Hand to the king. 

Daenaera held a frown on her face as she held Lucerys smaller hand in hers, the pad of her thumb caressing his soft knuckles.

"Be good to your mother, children. I'll visit when I can." Harwin assures, standing up from his crouched position.

"But that may be some time."

Frowning just like his Twin, Jacaerys moves to stand by her other side that was near their mother. Daenaera wraps her free arm around his shoulders,pulling him close as their father stops in front of them.

The man's gaze looks to his eldest, his only daughter, his daughter that he swore to protect and keep safe all his life... something that her brothers had also sworn to do as well when they had seen how protective their father was of her. Harwin brings a gloved hand forward, tucking a piece of hair behind his daughter's ear as she continues to frown at him.

"Do you have to go?" Daenaera asks. 

"I'm afraid I must, darling. But I will return." Harwin tells her, gently holding hers and Jacaerys chins when they both looked down. "I promise."

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head before he was venturing over to Rhaenyra, leaning down and softly kissing Joffrey's bald head. Him and Rhaenyra were then staring at one another before he bid her a goodbye formally, grabbing his things before walking out of the door. 

Seeing that the door had been left open, Jacaerys rushed outside and into the hallway, watching his retreating figure.

Trailing behind her brother, Daenaera sighs as she does the same with Rhaenyra following right behind her two oldest.

Using her free hand, she gently caresses her daughter's hair while looking between the two.

"We will exchange letters by raven. Won't that be fun?" Rhaenyra questions, trying to lighten their mood.

"Is Harwin Strong our father?"

Jacaerys suddenly asks, turning to face the woman.

"Am I a bastard? Are we bastards?"

Rhaenyra looks between her two eldest.

"You areTargaryens. That's all that matters." And with that, she leans down and presses her lips against their foreheads before moving them back into her chambers as she stares down the hallway. They couldn't stay in Kings Landing, and she knew Alicent would never take her offer of betrothing her eldest with her eldest . So she could only think of one place they could go.

#fanfic #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #fanfiction #aegon targaryen x reader #oc #aegon targaryen #aegon x reader #hotd #jace velaryon #Alicent #alicent hotd #harwin #rhaenyra x harwin #ser harwin #Velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #house velaryon #house #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon season 2 #hold

[drcloyd]

bucktommy earth day fic

getting this in right under the wire.

pretty as a vine [read on ao3] “Did you know that Los Angeles has one of the most diverse urban forests in the world?” Evan asked, about five milliseconds after Tommy managed to open his eyes to the early morning sunlight.

Evan was already sitting against the headboard.

“I did not know that,” Tommy said, sleep-rough as he wiped a hand over his face and blinked sleep out of his eyes. Evan was bright-eyed and animated, though there was still a pillow crease on his face and he had a serious case of curly bed-head. Instead of hauling him back down onto the mattress and cuddling him back to sleep, he pushed himself into a sitting position and yawned so wide his jaw cracked.

“Chris sent me an article about urban tree planting his class read to get ready for Earth Day,” he said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, apparently there’s 95 species of tree native to Los Angeles, but thousands more that are non-native,” he said, putting his phone down, obviously reciting the stats from memory. He never could quite predict what scenario was going to bring forth a bunch of random facts from Evan, but he enjoyed it every time.

Also, he learned a lot.

“What else did you find out?” he asked, peppering the question with a closemouthed kiss against Evan’s mouth, just to see the way his cheeks flushed.

Apparently the research hole he’d gone down was too much to fluster him for long, because he barrelled ahead after a brief pause for a sweet little smile. “Did you know there’s three times as many trees planted in rich neighborhoods here in LA than in poor neighborhoods?” he said, a tiny furrow appearing between his brow. “That’s so unfair - do you know how many benefits trees have? They reduce the temperatures in heat deserts and improve air quality - “

Tommy listened as he continued, gesticulating wildly with his hands as he rattled off facts, and couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed his mouth. He hadn’t been lying, Evan was adorable but - it was also some pretty interesting stuff. Listening to one of Buck’s trivia binges inevitably led him down a rabbit hole of his own, though he was far less prone to sharing it than Buck.

He did on occasion attempt to drop them on Eddie - though that usually got him an eye roll and a teasing comment about how much time he was spending with Buck.

“I think we should do something for Earth Day,” Evan said, after going through an exhaustive list of all the ways planting trees in urban areas helped both the environment and citizens.

“You want to plant a tree?” Tommy asked, brow raised, by now leaning against the headboard, close enough that their shoulders pressed together (or more like bumped every few moments with all the gesturing Evan did).

“No - well, yeah - but it’s kind of short notice for that now,” he said. “I did look into some programs planting trees around the city that accept volunteers but there’s orientations and stuff - I was thinking of running it by Cap, seeing if we can make it a station wide thing, or maybe department wide…”

“Okay,” Tommy said, quiet, even, waiting for Evan to circle back around to what he actually wanted to do now.

“I was thinking I could plant something on my balcony. Not a tree, obviously, maybe some flowers for the bees or something?”

“That sounds doable,” Tommy said with a nod. “Is this something you’d like help with?” he asked.

“I - yeah, I mean if you’re offering,” he said. “I was thinking we could go to the home improvement store and get a little flower box and soil and stuff,” he said.

“Alright,” Tommy said, giving Evan’s thigh a little squeeze as he started to slide out of bed. “Get dressed, I’ll get the coffee going and we’ll head out,” he said.

Three hours later, they’d arrived back to the loft with a huge flower box, two bags of potting soil, two sets of gardening gloves, three different species of bee friendly flowers and a succulent Evan had fallen in love with and refused to leave behind.

Hauling it all up to Evan’s floor, even with the elevator, had been a trek, both of them a little sweaty by the time they carried it all across the threshold.

“There’s an information pamphlet in here somewhere,” Evan said, setting his flowerbox (a gorgeous piece in redwood that had cost a pretty penny but would hold up against rot and decay for as long as Evan wanted it on his balcony) on the kitchen island and rooted around inside where he’d put his part of the haul. Tommy put the large box filled with flowers (and the succulent) on the other side of the island.

“Okay, we’ve got some Great Blanket Flowers, otherwise known as Gaillardia aristata,” he said, pulling out a container with a few orange and yellow flowers, setting them beside the flower boxes on the island. “Then -” he squinted at the paper, “Million Bells, otherwise known as Calibrachoa,” a yellow flower with orange on the inside, “and a Sweet Potato vine, otherwise known as Ipomoea batatas,” he said.

“I was there when we bought them,” Tommy said, amused - it’d taken Evan a full forty-five minutes to narrow down the type of flowers he wanted to get, hemming and hawing about what would have the most benefit for bees, which would last the longest, be the most maintenance free - in the end Tommy’d had to wrangle one of the garden center employees over to give some professional advice before Evan well and truly lost himself in a Reddit spiral.

Evan laughed. “Just refreshing your memory,” he said. “Let’s get the flower box out there and then we can add the soil and start planting!” he said, clapping his hands together.

“Yes, sir,” Tommy said dryly, giving a little salute, the corner of his mouth quirking before he hefted up one of the flower boxes to take outside.

It took a bit of work to get them set up against the edge of the balcony, using some of the brackets that came with it (most of the time had been spent trying to find the drill that Evan had said he’d borrowed from Eddie - they’d found it in the hall closet under a pile of sheets).

“How’s that?” Tommy asked, knees clicking as he straightened up, peering down at the flower boxes that now took up most of the length of the balcony railing.

“Perfect,” Evan said, pressing a kiss to his cheek on his way past to grab the bags of soil. He was so much freer with his affection - Tommy knew it’d taken him some time to get used to it, but he always felt a little spark of warmth with every absent brush of his hand or chaste little kiss, just because - Evan had held his hand on the walk from the parking lot to the home improvement store and he’d had to bite the inside of his cheek to tamp down the smile.

Instead of helping, he watched Evan bring the two bags of soil out, arm muscles bulging, though he didn’t look as if he were exerting himself in the least.

“Both bags should be enough,” Evan said, leaving one to heft the other onto his shoulder and carry it toward the closest box. Tommy grabbed the other and did the same, and it only took a few moments to have it filled to an acceptable (to Evan and presumably the flowers) depth.

After procuring some beers, grabbing the flowers, and then going back inside to grab the two pairs of gloves, they were ready to start planting the flowers. Evan stood back, eyeing the box like a sculptor about to start chisling some marble. Tommy watched, amused and annoyingly fond, as he paced the length of the box, looked back to the box of flowers, and then back again.

“Let’s start with the Great Blanket Flowers,” he finally said after a long moment, giving a decisive nod. Tommy grabbed the flowers from the box - they’d gotten three large ones in separate pots, and set them on the ground next to where Evan had knelt down, gloves already on.

Tommy donned his, kneeling down, ignoring the cracking of his knees, and let Evan take the lead.

“I think they’d look best here at the front,” he said. Tommy nodded - he didn’t have a particular eye for flower arrangements, but he trusted Evan’s judgment. Also, he honestly didn’t think the bees would care one way or the other.

They worked in companionable silence to gently uproot the flowers from their pots, careful not to snag any of the roots. Evan dug some holes with his gloved hand deep enough to easily cover the roots, the soil easily moved. Tommy placed one of the bunches into a hole, patting the soil down around it and let Evan do the other two, reaching for his beer as he watched the careful way Evan handled the plants, even with the unwieldy gloves on.

There was a look of concentration on his face, and Tommy kind of wanted to kiss away that little furrow between his brow. He took a pull of beer instead, setting the bottle down as Evan patted down the last bit of soil.

“There. I think those look good there.” Tommy hummed in agreement. “The sweet potato vines should probably go along the back so they can drape down off the balcony when they grow, and we can fill in the Million Bells in around them?” he said, as if Tommy might have another idea about possible flower arrangements.

He didn’t.

Tommy helped, but mostly just sat back on his heels and watched as Evan arranged the flowers to his liking, his tongue occasionally peeking out between his teeth as he held the flowers in different spots before committing to their final resting place.

When the last flower had been put in place, Evan eased himself back onto his heels, close enough that Tommy could feel the heat of his body, sunwarm and shining faintly with perspiration.

“Looks good,” Tommy said approvingly, though his gaze wasn’t stuck on the flowers. Evan’s was though, a smile lighting up when a bee buzzed by and headed straight for the Blanket Flowers. He watched it for a while, and Tommy watched him watching it, before Evan seemed to tense a little, glancing over at him.

“Hey,” he said, sounding oddly insecure. “Thanks for doing this with me,” he said, eyes bright, as if he imagined Tommy would have agreed to come if he hadn’t wanted to. Tommy didn’t do things he didn’t want to do. He hoped in time he could get Evan to believe that.

“Of course,” Tommy said, leaning forward to kiss him, soft and sweet, forgetting his hand was still gloved as he brought it up to rest against his chin. Evan kissed him back, and when he pulled back he had a smudge of dirt on his jaw.

Tommy grinned, taking his glove off so that he could wipe the smudge away with his thumb.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

#911 #bucktommy #911fic #any excuse to use a hozier lyric

[abarbaricyalp]

Written for the @sambuckylibrary Anniversary Event! Y'all don't even know how many of these "no-power" stories I started for this prompt. Instead I hunkered down and finished one of my favorite (and oldest) WIPs (What is the life of a writer, if not creating four WIPs for every one finished?)

CW: blood and injury There is also glib discussion of limb loss by Bucky throughout.

Yeah the title is from that one poster. You know the one.

Hanging In There 🐱

Bucky Barnes was very good at free climbing. (Yes, even with the prosthetic arm, thank you very much, terrible-gym-trainer.) Mostly because he'd taken up free climbing after he was situated with the arm. It had become his ongoing PT and his proof of freedom. Once he'd gone a few months without flattening himself on the gym floor, everyone in his life (so, his sister Becca and his best friend Steve) finally left him alone when he was doing other things. So long as he could scale rock walls, he could do his own grocery shopping.

He got as much of a kick out of watching people's reactions to him climb with a prosthesis as he did from watching them finally work up the courage to tentatively ask if he lost his arm climbing. His answer changed depending on what mood he was in or the elevation he'd stopped at if he was outside. "Sure, it got caught in a rock shift. I had to cut it off with a pocket knife." "Yeah, I put my hand in a hole and got bitten by some poisonous reptile. Lost the whole thing." "Actually I fell off a cliff and ripped the whole thing off when I tried to get some purchase on the way down." He'd lost it in the line of duty overseas, but nosy people always managed to miss the dog tags around his neck.

The point was, Bucky was really good at free climbing. He'd been doing it for years now. He thought he knew his body better now than he did when he joined up with the military in the first place.

This was all his cat's fault.

No, that wasn't fair. This was all some other cat's fault. Some street cat rascal had gotten Alpine pregnant and Bucky was just trying to see who it was. Plus maybe figure out who was so irresponsible to let their cat roam. And, no. Alpine getting out to meet with this cat Casanova was not the same thing as someone being irresponsible because she slipped out the window by knocking the plastic accordion of the window AC unit out of the way. Bucky hadn't let her out. He was not an intentionally irresponsible cat dad. He was just a new cat dad. Who even knew he’d have to cat-proof window units?

He'd been watching her ever since he'd found out she was pregnant. He fully planned on following her to whatever back alley she met Tom O'Malley in. When Alpine had climbed out his window and perched on the wide railing of his balcony, he'd figured she was going to jump down the fire escape to the ground and carry on. Instead, she walked across the narrow decorative ledge of his building and he...

Well, he followed on instinct. That was the plan, right? Follow his cat to the culprit?

He could not stress how much he wasn't thinking in the moment. 

The building wasn't that tall. He was on the fourth floor and the bottom floor was only a half floor. Still, Bucky wasn't imagining the wind tugging at his clothes as he crept along the narrow ledge after Alpine, who was not doing anything to wait for Bucky.

"Al," he hissed, making a small jump from the end of one apartment's ledge to the next. He knew his neighbor and hoped she wasn't home. She wasn't usually but his luck was not cooperating today. "Al, get back here. You had your fun night. I'm over this."

Bucky skirted across the neighbor's balcony and onto the next ledge. This one was a little different, wider but more broken up into pieces. More like a rock wall. The only problem was that there were no decorative pieces at hand level. And he wasn't wearing his prosthetic arm. If he missed a step or one of these bricks gave way, he was definitely falling.

Alpine gracefully jumped down a floor, using a drain pipe to launch herself sideways onto someone's balcony.

"Alpine!" Bucky called with a new wave of frustration. The balcony was close enough that Bucky could probably make the jump. It would be mostly falling anyway. He could land on the railing and stumble his way forward.

The only problem would be that he'd definitely alert whoever was in the apartment and he wasn't sure he'd be able to talk, or climb, his way out of that conversation. He crept closer to the other balcony, eyeing the drop and wishing he'd worn better shoes. He was just as liable to break an ankle as he was to miss the balcony.

Alpine pawed at the sliding door of the balcony and a black-and-white cat appeared on the other side of it, used its head to nudge the door open. Alpine and the cat rubbed heads and then disappeared into the apartment together.

"Are you kidding me?" Bucky asked the wind. 

He looked down at the street below, thankful they weren't on the busy side of the building. Then again, that meant it was less likely someone would see him flatten himself and therefore less likely someone would call for help.

There were not many times in his climbing journey that he felt the need to leap from one spot to the other. Sure, the occasional shift a foot or so to a different grip hold, but not like this. He braced his feet against the ledge, testing his weight out and shifting it forward.

He leapt without thinking about it anymore than that.

When he crashed through the balcony, his brain was very confused about what happened. He'd hit something solid. He was still falling. His knee ached. His other knee was in his face. Something was soaking through his sock and shoes.

He realized his forearm was flat against the balcony and he tried to lift himself up, out of the hole he’d put in the wooden floor. But he couldn’t make his legs follow commands, couldn’t free the one stuck on the wood, being held up at an odd angle by his jeans, couldn’t swing the other one back to make momentum. Then the pain really set in, along with some panic. Bucky couldn't right himself, couldn't sit, could barely move, all of which meant he couldn't take stock of what was happening around him. His leg hurt. The pain was soaking into his brain until he couldn't think about anything else.

Then, to add insult to injury, the most beautiful man Bucky had ever seen came running out the door to the balcony and almost tripped over him. The cats followed him out. Alpine, the traitor, didn't even look concerned. 

"What the hell?" his neighbor asked. Belatedly, Bucky saw the baseball bat in his hand. And, like, one that had been used in the field of play and left no comforting possibility that the man wouldn't actually use it on him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Well, right now, I'm just hanging out," Bucky answered without knowing where the sarcasm came from since most of his brain was focused on the terror that he was about to lose his leg too.

"Are you trying to break in?" the man asked and curled his fingers around the bat again.

"Me, rob you?" Bucky asked in disbelief. "That's my cat that you're clearly trying to steal," he argued with a nod to Alpine. "And your terrible Tom got her pregnant on top of it!"

"That's your cat?" the man asked. "Do you ever pay attention to her? She's here all the time. I posted ‘Found: Cat’ posters downstairs and didn't get a response."

"You did not!" Bucky snapped. "Can you just..." He gestured to the fact that he was continually slipping further through the hole he'd crashed through in the balcony. Or...no. He did this. He crashed a hole through someone's balcony. Could this day get any worse?

The man tossed the bat inside and the cats disappeared after the noise to investigate. He kneeled beside Bucky, holding onto his elbow and maneuvering Bucky around to peer through the hole.

"Your leg is pretty torn up," he warned. "I think it's best if I just call for an ambulance. I don't want to agitate any wounds. I have gauze but not extra blood."

It took Bucky too long to realize that was a joke. Hopefully. "Come on, man. Just help me up. I'll be fine."

"You are literally dripping blood onto the next balcony," the man insisted. And then he seemed to realize his hand was flat on Bucky's ribs and not on his left arm. He blanched and his wide eyes met Bucky's.

"Don't worry," Bucky assured. "It was missing before I jumped. It disappeared on me earlier."

To his credit, the neighbor's shock switched to vaguely irked in a single breath and without any follow up questions. He looked at Bucky's leg again and heaved out a long suffering sigh before disappearing into the apartment again.

Alpine and her paramour took the man's place in the doorway, watching Bucky with a pitying and disdainful look, respectively. "This is your fault," Bucky told Alpine. Or maybe the black and white cat. Really, it was that cat's fault.

The neighbor came back with an armful of supplies, including some really nice 2x4s that he laid across the balcony, balancing them on the unimpaired metal frame. He also had a medical kit that needed a duffle bag to be lugged around.

"Were you military?" Bucky asked.

The neighbor startled a little and his fingers passed over what Bucky could assume was an insignia patch on the other side of the bag. "Yeah, Air Force. Pararescue. Sam, by the way. You?"

"Army. Bucky," Bucky said. "Not in that order."

"Explains the whole--" Sam gestured to his left side.

"Well, if you figured that out on your own, how am I supposed to test out my new stories on you?"

Sam shook his head as he laid out a variety of supplies just inside the threshold of his apartment. "You and my partner would've gotten along. He had this scar on his face. Dog bite when he was a kid. But he made up stories all the livelong day about it."

"You get tired of the truth eventually," Bucky explained. "It's never good enough for anyone anyway."

Sam glanced over at him, brown eyes a little calculating for a moment. But he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he got his hands on Bucky's ribs again. "You need to help me here. I don't have a lot of leverage and we're gonna be fighting against the splintered boards."

Bucky nodded and braced his forearm against one of the boards Sam had brought out. Despite his concerns, Sam was just about strong enough to pull Bucky free on his own, which was both mortifying and also incredibly hot. Pieces of the balcony clattered to the one below as Bucky pulled his legs up behind him.

The pain started as soon as he was sure he was safely on the 2x4s. He hissed and reached for his knee like he could stave off the pain signals that way.

"Do you mind if I cut your jeans away?" Sam asked. "Just the legs. You can keep your modesty."

"I have no dignity left, so go for it," Bucky sighed. He leaned back against the railing of the balcony and watched Sam carefully cut through his favorite jeans. His leg was a gross, bloody mess but it didn't make Bucky flinch and Sam didn't flinch either. He imagined they’d both seen much worse.

"You should go to the hospital," Sam repeated as he cleared some blood away. He had nice fingers, Bucky realized, instead of listening to his admonishments. They were almost long enough to wrap around Bucky's calf and he was so sure with his movements as he wiped Bucky's leg down with a concentrate of alcohol that was definitely higher than what they sold at the bodega. His nails were maintained, but still a little dirty and rough from work. Like the rest of him: just effortlessly endearing and gorgeous.

"Why do you have random pieces of wood in your apartment?" he asked finally as Sam began to wrap bandages around his knee.

Sam looked down at his temporary floor. "I was going to redo the balcony. So, thanks for this, I guess.”

Bucky gave a lazy kind of wave and then dropped his arm over his eyes. “This isn’t exactly how I wanted to spend my day either. I can help you with repairs. Pay for whatever else you need.”

“That’s more helpful than the maintenance guys have been,” Sam said. “I told them all this wood was rotten.”

“Yeah, you shoulda seen how long it took them to come look at my sink drain. I was scooping it out and pouring it down the shower for months,” Bucky agreed.

Sam groaned in sympathy, but didn’t look up from where he was now searching for large splinters. He had eyelashes longer than Bucky’s forearm, it seemed like. And cheekbones that were made to be seen from this angle. Of all the balconies in New York that he could’ve crashed on, why did he have to embarrass himself in front of a model?

Nah, even better than a model. Real and handsome and touchable.

“Wait, did you say partner?” Bucky asked suddenly.

Sam’s long eyelashes fluttered as he looked up and graced Bucky with those eyes again. “What? I didn’t say anything”

“No, earlier. You said your partner has a scar on their face.”

“Oh. Yeah. Riley,” Sam said and closed up a little bit.

“Are they going to be mad that there’s a stranger stuck in your balcony?”

“You’re not stuck anymore,” Sam pointed out. “I just don’t want you to bleed in my apartment.” He ran another cloth soaked with alcohol across Bucky’s leg and then pulled out a huge roll of gauze. “Riley was my flight partner in the Air Force. I mean. He was my partner-partner too. But I don’t think he’s gonna have much to say about you breaking the balcony.”

“Oh. You broke up,” Bucky surmised. “I just thought… The way you talked about him so easily… Sorry,” he added.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him but just gestured for Bucky to hold the edge of the gauze against his leg and proceeded to give Bucky the tightest, most fine wrapped bandages of Bucky’s life. They hadn’t done this well with bandages after he lost his arm. 

“God, you were like rescue-pararescue,” Bucky said, like an idiot. What did that even mean. “I mean, we all got triage training, but you’re actually good at it.”

Sam snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, it was part of the job,” he agreed. He tapped off the gauze and then stood, making sure to step inside his apartment before letting himself sit back on his full weight.

Bucky leaned back a little and stared up at him. This was a fantastic angle. 

“Come on, give me your hand,” he said, offering his down to Bucky. “Gotta get you off the balcony before my downstairs neighbor really starts to wonder what’s going on.”

Bucky took Sam’s hand and let him pull him to his feet, hopping over off the balcony to the apartment flooring. Only, as soon as he put his weight on his unhurt leg, that leg entirely went out from him. He fell against Sam’s chest and both he and Sam reached for the couch behind them to keep from falling over. The couch scooted back another inch, but it held steady after.

Bucky stared at Sam’s mouth because he was at the exact right level for it. But Sam was staring at him too, dark eyes wide, breath warm over Bucky’s face. His hand was on Bucky’s waist.

“Uh…I think I hurt my ankle too,” Bucky offered.

Sam took half a step backwards, scooting the couch again to do so, and helped Bucky find his unstable footing. Bucky balanced on one foot and his toes. Then Sam sank down to one knee and Bucky basically lost all coherent brain function entirely. He lifted Bucky’s pant leg and then sucked in a breath so sharply, the air whistled through the gap in his front teeth.

“Yeah, man. I think you broke it,” he confirmed. “You really need to go to the hospital.”

Bucky groaned and hobbled around Sam to lean on his couch. “It really looks that bad?”

“Are you attached to these shoes?” he asked.

“Yeah, kinda. Why?” They were just Vans, but he hated spending money on shoes (unless they were good boots, or dance shoes).

“Because your shoe may need to be cut off with the way the ankle’s swelling.”

Bucky dropped his head back and groaned like that was going to solve anything. It didn’t really matter. He’d seen how messy the other one had gotten from the blood, so it’s not like he was keeping this pair anyway. When he lifted his head again, Sam was standing there, looking like he was waiting on Bucky for something.

Bucky put on his best pathetic wet cat eyes. “Any chance you drive?” he asked. “I really don’t want to call an ambulance. You know VA insurance doesn’t cover shit.”

Sam’s eyebrow rose. “A man ruins my balcony, bleeds all over my things, accuses my cat of getting his cat pregnant–in fact, accuses me of stealing his cat–and now he wants to ask a favor after I stopped him from bleeding out or falling to his further grisly demise,” he summarized.

“A man will take you out to dinner?” Bucky offered. “As many times as you like?”

Sam stared at him for a moment longer before he relented. “I have discerning tastes,” he warned. “It’s gonna take a while for you to find a place that’s good enough.”

Bucky read directly into that and he grinned, triumphant. “Well, I have very good tastes,” he said. “But I’m gonna start off shitty just to keep you coming back.”

Sam rolled his beautiful eyes, but he was smiling and if Bucky liked his face before, he really loved it when he was smiling. “I’ll take you to the hospital, but don’t expect me to sit there and wait.”

“I think you should,” Bucky tempted. As he watched Sam gather his keys–and, fuck, Bucky’s door was locked and his keys were inside, he was going to have to call Steve to bring the extra–he limped to the door. The promise of Sam coming behind him was enough to keep the pain from taking up too many of his thoughts. Sam was firmly entrenched there.

“Why’s that?” Sam asked. He opened the door for Bucky and ushered him out.

“Because when they ask me what happened and I tell them I fell for the most beautiful man in the world, I’m gonna need the proof.”

“Oh my God,” Sam groaned, rolling his eyes again and smiling even brighter. “I should’ve checked you for a concussion. Lemme make sure your pupils aren't actually heart-shaped right now.”

“This is a perfectly normal reaction to fate literally throwing you into my life,” Bucky defended.

“Fate threw you into mine,” Sam corrected. “You’re the one who fell out of the sky like an omen.”

“An omen?” Bucky asked, affronted. “An angel.”

“Definitely not.”

They waited for the elevator in silence for a few seconds, Bucky leaning on Sam’s side to take some weight off of his leg. Then, just as the elevator dinged its approach, Sam said, “By the way, you're wrong about my cat. He's been fixed for years. Some other cat got your cat pregnant."

Bucky almost missed the elevator as he stared at Sam, who had stepped into it, in shock. Sam caught the door and Bucky quickly followed him in. “This was all for nothing? Why was she in your apartment?”

“I told you, she comes all the time. I think she likes Fig’s food. Besides,” Sam nudged an elbow into Bucky’s side. “I wouldn’t say it was for nothing.”

“‘Cause we met each other?” Bucky finished for him with a pleased grin. “Givin’ me all the warm and fuzzies, Sam.”

“Nah, ‘cause now I’ve got a reason to finally start on my balcony. And some volunteer guilt labor too.” He clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and hit the button for the garage level. “We’ll see about anything else fate might have gifted us later.”

Who knew, Bucky wondered, that fate was a cat.

#sambucky #bucky barnes #sam wilson #captain america #sambucky fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #tfatws

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

Alecto

Characters

<< Previous: John | Masterpost

-

Alecto, the most important character who we know the least about.

Here are some theories:

She was an alien of some kind: she's been described as "not human", and a "monster". Monsterhood can take on different forms, so it's fairly nondescript. But she was certainly exceptional in many ways.

She could have been a genetic anomaly, human but not, and it gave her powers.

Was she already this wild, angry, powerful, nonhuman monster before John resurrected her? None of the other Lyctors knew her before John resurrected her, and fused with her via perfect Lyctorhood. At this point, she would have been enormously powerful, and possibly using this power willfully; she wasn't just herself, she was an amalgam of her and John.

Here's how John describes her:

He said, “It stood for a couple of things. A joke, mostly. I often called her Annabel Lee. Annie Laurie. When I first met her I just called her First, One. She had a real name, but I buried it with her, and nobody says it anymore. “She has been dead for nearly ten thousand years, but she keeps her vigil with me, as a memory, if nothing else … Annabel Lee was my—what do I call her? Guide? Friend? I’d hoped so…” You did not know how to respond to this. He did not seem to need a response. God said, “She was the first Resurrection. She was my Adam. As the dust settled and I beheld what was left and what was gone, I was entirely alone. The world had been ended, Harrowhark. One moment I was a man, and then the next moment I was the Necrolord Prime, the first necromancer, and more importantly, a landlord with no tenants.”

No lie, John knowing Alecto as "First", and "One", to me creepily suggests that she was a specimen. That John was some kind of scientist studying her. (Yuck.) Perhaps even a genetically engineered fetus he created and grew himself. I could be misreading this of course. She could be an alien with alien powers. She might not have been human at all, though compatible enough with humans to Lyctor with them and possibly even reproduce.

John says she was his first resurrection. The way he describes the event makes it sound like he needed all the energy in the whole entire universe to do it, and that this was what killed the First House, and all the other Houses that existed at the time, and the planets, and the sun.

Then there's this:

The dead corse of the Locked Tomb—the death of the Emperor—the maiden with the sword and the chains, the girl in the ice, the woman of the cold rock, the being behind the stone that could never be rolled away—said, in half-confused tones she had never taken with you: “I don’t know. I died, once … no, twice,” but then she had said no more.

(Hinting at Alecto the Ninth - the future book - continuing the trend of being told from the perspective of the person who knows least about what's going on.)

But she died twice - once presumably before John resurrected her (allegedly), and the second time - when she got locked away? Or was there another one? (Still convinced Alecto isn't dead currently.)

Was Alecto's resurrection the same incident, or a different one, to John and Alecto's Lyctoral Ascension?

And who was Alecto... before she died the first time?

The Alecto we see in Harrow's "hallucinations" is quiet, protective of Harrow, secretive. She betrays little emotion, but when she does, it's never... vicious, her spirit so different from Wake in this respect. She seems genuinely sweet, far from the monster we've heard described. Her presence is comforting for Harrow.

We've also heard Augustine say:

“My lord,” said Augustine formally, “you told us the truth about Annabel—about Alecto—because she knew the truth about it too, and you never could control her. Even after two centuries, I’m not sure she ever managed to lie. That was what stayed my hand for such a long time. How would you have asked Alecto the First to lie—how would you have persuaded that mad monster into even an unsophisticated con?” God said, “Don’t call her that.” “A monster, John!” Augustine barked. “She was a bloody monster in a human suit! She was a monster the moment you resurrected her, and you went and made her worse!”

So she couldn't lie, but still "a monster" who John managed to "make worse". But also maybe not the brightest? Excepting the Monster part, she sounds like almost more of a himbo than Gideon.

What powers did she have then, to be so frequently called a monster?

It's very difficult to tangle apart what's actually Alecto, which of John's powers are actually her powers, and which of her post-resurrection/Lyctorhood powers are John's.

I think John's tangy type of magic which heals instantly and puts him back together again from atoms after Mercymorn "kills" him, the power which makes people so compelled to talk and tell him the truth, that's actually Alecto's powers - as discussed in the previous post.

Her powers - hers, not John's, or hers being used through John - post-resurrection and pre - are not very defined, at all, but it is safe to say that she must be very powerful. If I'm right and the citrus instant-powers John uses are actually Alecto's, then she is quite close to being a necromancer herself. I don't think her and John correspond neatly to the necro/cav dichotomy.

The whole thing with Ortus and Nonius shows that words are powerful in the River and possibly outside. I think Alecto's powers are as such that even saying her name can invoke her spirit - which is why John doesn't want her name to be said, ever. I think she is still alive - and the ice and tomb and wards are there to keep her out, and keep her spirit from attaching itself to people and things. I think that's what happened with Harrow when she opened the tomb. Alecto doesn't need a connection to something, or someone, to attach herself to them. Or maybe Harrow's instant love for her was enough. Or maybe the love itself is a manifestation of Alecto's powers? Either way, she did not have to be related to Harrow, or attached to Harrow, to hitch a ride with her. An impenetrable ice cave warded to all hell - not even a mouse would have been able to get in. Probably, Alecto would have been able to possess a mouse and get her spirit, at least, out that way. This is why it was important to keep everyone and everything out of the tomb and lock it forever. Alecto's powers are on the same level, if not higher, than God's.

I think Alecto must have figured out first that resurrection and necromancy was an awful, horrible thing to do that would draw the wrath of dead planets and souls.

I think a lot of the plotting against the emperor is by her design, somehow. That when she "went away" from Harrow in the last few weeks of HtN, she was Doing Something, her soul connecting to the Blood of Eden, or the Resurrection Beasts, or something. It's been established by now, quite formly, that just cus someone's dead - or incapacitated - this doesn't keep them from having influence on the plot. At least for the past eight years, Alecto has been with Harrow, and therefore much freer in how her soul would roam.

I'm hella excited to find out what will happen with Alecto.

This concludes the character section; I'm going to briefly attempt to predict some plot and theorise about Nona before actually getting this liveblog back off the ground!

>> Next: Plot Predictions

#tlt liveblog #the locked tomb liveblog #tlt spoilers #the locked tomb #tlt #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #tlt theories #no nona the ninth spoilers please #alecto the first

[krenenbaker]

Trick or Treat~!

Pairing: Che'nya x Floyd (could be read platonically or romantically)

Summary: It's finally Halloween night, but Floyd is in a bit of a slump. However, the arrival of a curious companion may just make the Halloween party a bit more interesting for him.

Notes: This is my first attempt at something following a prompt - specifically, "Trick or Treat" for the 2023 TWST Rarepair Halloween event. I'm trying to get more comfortable/practiced with writing prose (which is why this wasn't posted on the 30th... oops), and only vaguely ended up following the prompt. I'm fairly happy with how this little piece turned out, though!

Tags: @dove-da-birb, @azulashengrottospiano, @inkybloom-luv, @eynnwwyjth, @officialdaydreamer00 (please let me know if you'd like to be included or excluded from future writing of mine, or only want to be included in specific types of creations)

Floyd wanted to take a break. 

It was Halloween, and all he had done the entire week was work, work, work. Getting costumes ready, decorating, helping with their dorm's presentation, plus cooking and serving at the Lounge, all on top of normal classes? 

Sure, it was fun, especially getting to show off Octavinelle's cool setup, and 'taking care of' those misbehaving visitors. But now? Everything felt draining and boring, and Floyd simply wanted to leave, which sucked because the actual Halloween party had just started!  

Maybe he should just ditch and go back to his dorm; being in a funk when everyone else is having fun around you is not enjoyable.  He slumped down on a bench and unwrapped a sweet he had picked up earlier, before wrapping it up again. Ugh, not even in the mood for that candy he wanted only a few minutes ago. 

As he shoved the sweet back into his pocket and was about to get up from the bench to leave, Floyd heard a rustle behind him. Someone was quietly humming, and… laughing? The sound gradually moved to his side, towards the empty side of the bench.  

“Trick or treat~”

Floyd turned to face the voice. "Listen, man, I'm not in the mood to—” he froze, staring at the figure beside him. “Hang on a second, where's your body!?"

A toothy smile came to the face of the head that currently floated beside Floyd. "Oh, it's here.... or maybe it's there." A pair of hands materialized on either side of this boy's head, followed by the rest of his body. 

“I'm just kidding. Mind if I take a seat? I’d like to rest up before I keep purrowling around and startling people.”

Floyd blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “Uh, go for it.” 

This guy was... weird, and it was hard to tell if he'd be annoying, or interesting. "You don't go here, do ya? At least, I’ve never seen you before. And you’re no ghost, either.”

The cat-like boy shook his head, his jewellery jingling softly. "I'm just passing through for the festivities and collecting treats. Scaring some people, too. That’s loads of fun. And it's always nice to see my friends let loose." 

Floyd had a vague memory surface. "Ohh... you must be that RSA boy who's friends with Sea Turtle and Goldfishie." 

"'Sea Turtle' and 'Goldfishie', hey? Those are good names for my green and red friends. Cats are known for liking fish." He leaned forward, his grin growing. “Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Floyd nodded, “Floyd Leech. It's nice to meet you, too.” He looked curiously at the boy beside him, taking in his shaggy hair, piercings, and impish smile.

"You're not what I expected.” Floyd smiled, "But you seem fun, Catfish. I didn't think Goldfishie would get along with someone so... interesting."

Che'nya's eyes lit up slightly. "Catfish? Heh heh heh, most people call me Che'nya, but I guess that works. And I’ve heard some… interesting stories about you, too."

He stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back with his arms behind his head as he sighed. "But yeah, I don't think Riddle could shake me if he tried." 

"I'm almost jealous." Floyd tipped his head slightly. "Most of the time, Goldfishie likes to swim away before I can play with him."

Che'nya laughed, "Well, if you're wondering, he 'swam off' that way." He pointed off to the side. “Just don’t be rough with him. I don’t like people mistreating my friends.”

Floyd looked off into the crowd where he had pointed, and let out a small laugh. “Alright, good to know. Maybe I’ll find him later, if I feel like it”, he smiled and sat back. “And Goldfishie’s stronger than he looks, but I guess you’d know that.”

Che’nya nodded, then leaned closer with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, I bet we could do something that would really surprise him.” 

Floyd turned slightly towards Che’nya, and flashed a smile. “Yeah, we probably could. I think we should talk more in the future, Catfish. You seem pretty fun.” 

Che’nya grinned, “You seem pretty fun, too.”

"Well,” he stretched his arms above his head. “I think I’m going to go and find some more treats… and play some more tricks tonight. I'll catch you around, Floyd." 

With a haunting giggle echoing in his ears, Floyd watched as the boy beside him faded into nothingness, just the same way he had arrived. 

What a weird guy.

Floyd unwrapped the candy he had pocketed earlier, then popped it into his mouth. Maybe this party was worth staying at after all.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst rarepair halloween #rarepair halloween #floyd leech #che'nya #artemiy artemiyevich pinker #che'nya x floyd #krenenbaker's :) #krenenbaker's creations #and now... for the ramble-y tags #first: I desperately need more people to write Che'nya and Floyd interacting. their dynamic would be so damn silly!! #second: I had SUCH a hard time figuring out Che'nya's speech patterns - he really doesn't have many lines in canon! #I based some of his lines on the Cheshire Cat's lines in the 1951 film. I think they fit? #and I have no idea is this feels at all natural or in character for either Che'nya or Floyd... but there was an attempt :) #I need to practice writing more stuff like this #I also went through about 4 different possible ways their conversation could have gone before getting this down #here... it's almost like Che'nya's taking a break from tricking AND treating at the NRC Halloween party #that's how I'm saying the prompt applies at least #anywho... I GOT IT FINISHED! I WROTE A THING!! #and I'm going to write more. that IS a threat ^v^

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever

#jrwi fanart #cw blood #jrwi show #jrwi suckening #arthur bennett #OUHH THIS ONE WAS SITTING IN MY WIPS FOR SO LOOOONGwhen i took it out there was mould on it :sob: #BUT i think i was able to fix it up okay #i keep seeing SO MANY MISTAKES RRAAAHHH BUT YOU DONT SEE THEM RIGHT?? THATS ONLY ME. RIGHT?? EXACTLY. #THE KEY IS TO SAY. AND REPEAT AFTER ME. 'FUUUCK IT WE BALL #so anyway. arthur bennett huh? grizzly says that arthur is reaal fuckin difficult to play. and i SUPER get that. i mean LOOK AT HIM.. #grizz often needs a minute to think abt what hes gonna say in a way that matches w that Stoic Personality. which is FAIR but also that #ends up making way for awkward confrontations like: the lady in the parky lot. he took too long to answer and scared her away.& I LOVE THAT #arthur is tragic and sad and cool and stoic but hes ALSO awkward and silly and kinda dumb and short sighted. HE HAS COMPLEXITIES #I LOVE WHEN TTRPG CHARACTERS HAVE A GOOD SET OF SHORTCOMINGS. ESPECIALLY WHEN U FIND THEM ONLY AS U PLAY THEM. #I COULd go on and on saying the same things w different words abt arthurs intriguing and entertaining character but i shall spare u. for no #ILL ALSO MENTION HOW MUCH I LOVE HIS FLAVOR THO.. I LOVE TALL HOT BOY WHOS ONE W THE DARKNESS.. I REMEMBER WHEN HE FIRST MENTIONED THE #BADLUCK. N I WAS LIKE OOOHH THATS WHY HIS DESIGN IS SO COOL N CHAOTIC N ASYMMETRICAL. HES UNLUCKY!!! i love love love his design so much... #GRaaauruguguraguhhghghgh what else what else is there for me to spew on abt...i think im reachin a limit here..OH MAGNUS. i hope that #we get to know more abt how magnus and arthur met.. like How they became besties... ouuhh... I ALSO WANNA KNOW MORE ABT MARY DAVIS. LIKEHOW #he also apparently spent alotta time in a zone dominated by edward twilight? all he remembers is constant partying? I WANNA KNOW MORE.. #i think i got room 4 one more ramble SO. THE ART PIECE.as i said its gone a lil stale BUT. im still very proud o the bits where hes allScar #I WANNA SEE HIM GET SCARYMORE. I like the idea of shadows solidifying to make him strange and eerie.like TEETH n CLAWS n SPINES n YESS #also the SILVER EYES.no1 does silver eyes like the show Claymore. they make em look so striking and eerie...i also like to think that #human arthur had deep beautiful brown eyes.just in my beaitufl heart.i mean look at him..i wanna cook him n eat him.ANYWAY #i think thats all my ramblin for this piece. now i gotta go cancel a single day i had ata hotel bc my work schedule change last minute FUCK #feel free to ramble in my tags aswell tho i read all of them and i chew on thenm and i love them so sos os mcuh

[the-moon-loves-the-sea]

One thing I like to see as much as possible of in fandom is interpretive pluralism. Which is to say there’s more than one way to see the story onscreen, because the story is also happening to you. You watching it creates the story you experience, which is different from the story I experience. Sometimes the story I get on a rewatch is different than the story I saw the first time! Not because I got it wrong, but because I’m at a different place in my life, and I connect with different parts.

I write about the story I saw onscreen, but I believe deeply in plural stories. Was Stede an absent dad because of trauma, or did Mary shut him down every time he tried to engage with the kids because the way he did it annoyed her? (Did the pirate game give them nightmares or was she projecting?) Is Stede unaware of his crush on Ed, or knows what it is but thinks it’s unrequited or unsustainable or that he doesn’t have the courage to make it love? Is Ed unmasking who he’s always been as he becomes gentler, or just discovering a person he could become given safety and time? Is Izzy going to learn kindness or is he becoming Captain Hook? Would everything have been joyous if Ed had kissed Stede in front of Jack, or saved him from Chauncey, or did Stede need to go home first to get free?

I hope the answer to all of those can be yes. I hope however they play it onscreen, we keep writing the stories this story is becoming in our own hearts. I hope we give them every possible understanding and becoming and ending. And I hope we treasure that in each other’s work. The joy of fandom is making a thousand stories for love of one.

#I’ve read so many different ways things could have gone and loved them all #even the ones that explore the most painful interpretations #those are cathartic too #even the fluffiest where everything stays sweet #those are so restful #let fandom make a multiverse #ofmd

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Number of stories I would like to write: Many.

Number of stories I find myself able to write: Zero.

#adventures in writing #i've got less than a week to write a four loves story #(i want to have one done by valentine's day) #i have multiple stories that have been battering my imagination #i've been home sick and so have time to write #and i get in front of the computer and the energy is gone #everything i write takes so *long* #i got a semi-decent opening to the cinderella story but there's no way i could write anything worth showing in time #i tried a beauty and the beast short piece but the tone isn't coming together #i would like to try the goose girl but there's a key plot point that's shaky #i should just finish up the 12DP #whether or not part two works for people #our good friend sunk cost fallacy is telling me i should just go through with it as the story with minimal work requirement #but i'd also like to write something *else* you know? #too many grandiose ideas not enough words #same song different day