#he is a phoenix! he is resilient!

[loveandthings11]

It’s my litmus test too, Jeremy! ❤️🥺

Jeremy Strong for Vanity Fair, 5/29/23

[probablygayattorneys]

My boss told me she saw me at the library on Monday and said hi but I didn’t respond and said “But you seemed really deep in thought and must not have heard me! Must have been thinking hard about something important!” And I just don’t know how to tell her that when I was at the library on Monday, the vast majority of the time I was thinking about whether Phoenix Wright or Professor Layton would win in hand to hand combat.

[ddejavvu]

you join the team and hangman gets real shy with you and everyone is like

:O what have you done :O

and you're like

idk

and hes just like heart eyes

bc i LIVE for hangman being whipped and all nervous around his crushy wushy

MY LOVE MY LIGHT MY SAVING GRACE THANK YOU FOR THIS

--

Reassignment is a struggle. It's temporary, or, it's meant to be, but if things go well with your new team, you may be a permanent fixture. So you're a little nervous stepping onto the tarmac, all things considered.

You'd only managed to meet one person from your new squadron so far, a good-natured, kind man named Jake. He had seen you wandering along the hallway, directing you to Admiral Simpson's office when you'd explained your predicament. You don't spot him on the tarmac now, but you're not sure how many people are on the team.

There's a dark-haired woman that you can see, and she notices you, too. You aren't sure whether they've been shown pictures of you, but your last name is patched into your uniform and the helmet under your arm is branded with your callsign. A flash of recognition shows in her eyes, and she starts towards you.

"You're Y/N Y/L/N?" She quirks a brow, and you nod, smiling kindly.

"Nice to meet you," She grins, a brilliant expression on her pretty face, "I'm Natasha. Callsign Phoenix."

"Phoenix," You gush, "I like that. I'm supposed to join you for a hop today?"

"Yeah, we heard about that!" A man steps up beside you, cocky smirk on his face as he holds out a hand, "I'm Coyote. You're supposed to fly with Hangman, right?"

It wasn't ideal, being stuck in someone's backseat. You're used to flying, but this squadron wasn't in need of a new pilot, and you've been trained for both seats.

"Oh god," A man beside you groans, mustache a burnt red, "That's unfortunate. I'm, uh, Rooster. By the way."

You cock your head to the side, shaking his hand, "Rooster. What's wrong with that?"

"He's... difficult." A shorter man pipes up from your left, sticking his hand out, "Fanboy. He's just arrogant, that's all. He thinks he's the best, so it's hard to work with him if he feels like you're working against him. Hopefully he doesn't give you too much of a hard time."

Your heart sinks a little at the prospect of being paired with someone who didn't take kindly to partnership. You're resilient, sure, but there's only so much you can tolerate.

"Don't look now," Phoenix mumbles, leaning in close so no one can hear, "But he's coming out now. Just stand your ground, we can handle him if it gets too much."

You nod near-imperceptibly, waiting until you can hear the thunk of his boots on the asphalt before you spare him a glance. To your delight, the sweet, smiling face of Jake greets you, his cheeks already dusted a rosy hue.

"Y/N," He greets, southern drawl as sweet as sugar, "You're part of my squadron?"

"Your squadron," Rooster scoffs disapprovingly.

""You two know each other?" A tall man inquires, dark skin and pretty eyes, "I thought this was your first time here, Y/N."

"It is," You nod, exchanging a friendly smile with the man and glancing down at his name tag: Fitch, "But I ran into Jake yesterday in the hallway. He helped me to Admiral Simpson's office."

"Oh he did?" Fitch cocks his head to the side, a shit-eating grin thrown at Hangman, "Oh, that's so nice of you, Jake."

"I'm so glad you think that, Payback," Jake sneers, grin more menacing than any glare could be, "Now if you'll excuse us, Y/N and I should get comfortable with our new ride."

Jake crosses the rest of the tarmac until he's beside you, his hand coming to press against the small of your back just as it had yesterday. He's developing a habit of leading you around, and you reach his plane shortly, both of your names stamped on the side.

"I've never flown two-seater before," Jake admits, brushing a hand over his printed callsign, "This'll be interesting."

"Oh, why now?" You frown, fitting your helmet over your head, "What changed?"

"Uh," Hangman's eyes widen, and you think you've asked the wrong question. He answers, though, it's just sheepish.

"Admiral Simpson thinks it would be best if I had someone else with me in the air," He starts, choosing his words carefully, "Because he has observed some, uh- daring maneuvers from me. And he thinks that I might benefit from having someone else's safety to consider."

"You're too reckless," You realize, and you can't help but giggle, "So I'm your babysitter?"

"Let's not call it that!" Jake laughs, blush intensified, "Let's call it partners. Deal?"

"Deal," You grin, eyes twinkling similar to his own, "Partners."

"What the fuck?" Fanboy spits, watching from afar as Jake helps you into the jet, letting you grab his hand and brace your weight on his arm, "Did he get possessed, or something?"

"She hasn't slapped him yet," Rooster ponders, "He must be keeping himself in check."

"Is that Y/N?" Natasha turns where she hears Bob's voice nearing behind her, nodding with a growing smirk on her face.

"Yeah, that's her. And that's Hangman."

She points to Jake, who's leaning into your seat, concern evident on his face as he helps you adjust the position of your harness.

Bob's face falls, scrunching into a frown, "He's... helping her?"

"This is gonna get interesting, boys," Phoenix grins, eyes narrowed at Jake who's still grinning sweetly at you, "Hangman's got a crush."

[astr0logywh0r3]

astro observations pt. 2

1.) venus square mars ppl have trouble with balancing their masculine and feminine energies. they can feel this internally and it can make them feel insecure. one second they feel hyper feminine and the next they feel more masculine. they wish they could find a way to balance both sides of them but it’s a struggle. they could come off too strong from time to time as a result of their inner conflict (might come off too strongly feminine or masc in the moment) and then they’d feel bad ab it later

2.) i think neptune in the 1st/conjunct the asc might be good at making other people feel special 🤨

3.) mars-pluto ppl have that confident inner power within themselves

4.) cancer risings remind me of fluttershy from mlp 💀

5.) saturn conjunct asc/in 1st house might have been extremely shy kids. they have a lot of determination within themselves though. makes a very strong-willed person. go after what they want with resilience and understand the importance of taking calculated steps to achieve their desires. definitely the no-bullshit type

6.) pluto on the ascendant always reminds me of tony montana from scarface for some reason 😭. i guess it makes sense since al pacino has pluto conjunct his asc so idk. it’s just that archetype. tony wasn’t afraid and didn’t stop at anything to reach where he got. a phoenix risen from the ashes. stubborn. that “don’t tell me what tf to do” type energy. intense, babe. their eyes are crazy too (it’s like they store all their inner intensity and deep emotions in their eyes ..lotta depth). also the no-bullshit type. if they’re mad at you ……be afraid 💀 they will plot revenge and start conspiring some shit

7.) taurus risings are pretty in a “oh, they’re cute” way. they have short little noses and pretty eyes

8.) pisces risings… are y’all good at telling stories? 😭 i think you guys get a little sidetracked

9.) chart ruler in the 9th makes someone adventurous… they just wanna explore and do everything. try everything there is at least once. could have a great sense of humor too

10.) scorpio moons are really protective of their family. they guard their families just like they guard their emotions

11.) unpopular opinion but scorpios aren’t mysterious to me 😐 i’m not sure id call any zodiac sign mysterious tbh it really depends on the whole chart. scorpios to me are just super honest people who have pragmatic opinions that they aren’t afraid to state out loud. if a scorpio has an opinion they feel strongly about they won’t be afraid to let others know how they feel, which i admire about them to an extent. they like getting to the nitty gritty of situations. some of them can actually be very kind people. funny as well due to their honesty and boldness. oh, and they just love dark reds. search up “maroon” and that is literally their staple color you cannot tell me otherwise

12.) i’ve met leos who i’ve found boring before which goes against their stereotype 💀 sometimes their personalities are just the bare minimum honestly unless the rest of the chart says otherwise

13.) mars in the 11th have big dreams for themselves. they wanna make a difference.

14.) 8th house sun makes someone intriguing and mysterious. it can also be a placement that grants beauty.

15.) moon in the 4th just wanna belong.

[simpforrooster]

exactly what i was texting her.

robert 'bob' floyd x f! reader

summary: your first date with bob.

a/n: my first bob fic just for you anon! i won't lie, it was hard to tap into bob's sweetness. i wanted them to banter sooooo badly xD

phoenix has been begging you to meet her new weapon systems operator.

no. that isn't quite it.

she's been trying to set you up with him.

you don't know anything about the man other than his callsign. which is bob.

bob.

hanging around naval aviators all your life, you figured one day you'd go on a date with one of them. you just assumed he would have a cooler callsign than bob.

maybe something like snake, or the infamous maverick. a girl can dream right?

anyway.

phoenix finally wore you down, and you're waiting outside a small diner for this infamous bob.

"wow, phoenix didn't do you any justice. you're beautiful." you hear to your left. a man in navy issue glasses and sandy hair smiles, slightly awkwardly, at you.

"i'm robert, or bob," he chuckles, reaching out a hand to you.

bob was the most perfect call sign for this man.

sweetness exudes off bob immediately putting you at ease, and you praise phoenix for being so resilient in this pairing.

"phoenix has told me all about you," he tells you, a hand on the small of your back, leading you into the diner. the two of you find a place in the back corner, away from loud customers.

it doesn't escape you that phoenix hadn't told you a thing about bob, except for his name. "i want you to form your own judgment!" she'd said.

bob slide into the booth across from you and fed you another nervous smile. "i'm sorry. i'm normally not this nervous."

"it's okay, i'm pretty nervous too," you tell him, reaching across the table to lay your hand on his arm. his cheeks pinkened, and yours followed, as your hand must have done that on its own. you return your hand to lap quickly.

as the night progresses, you and bob have fallen into a comfortable rapport. the way you've fallen into step with him, and at the speed surprises you. it's not that you've been closed off entirely to dating, it was just something that you hadn't focused on too much.

now, it seems like you can't remember what it was like before you met this quirky, sweet aviator.

at some point in the evening, bob has abandoned the seat across from you, favoring sharing the seat with you. you sit, your back to the wall, fully giving your attention to him.

bob reaches for your hand, confidence having replaced the earlier apprehension. for a few moments, he plays with your hand in his while the two of you continue talking.

"for the happy couple. on the house," your waitress interrupts your story, placing a piece of apple pie and ice cream on your table. "the two of you are just too sweet."

you and bob share a secret smile. you slide a little closer to him in the booth and his hand causally falls around your shoulder. the two of you share the dessert, and soon after, your being kicked out the diner so they can close up.

standing in the cool evening air while bob pays, you pull your phone out to text phoenix.

"i hope you're telling her the date was perfect and you can't wait to see me again," he tells you over your shoulder. when you turn your head, his mouth is right there. he drops his gaze to your mouth, silently asking if it's okay to kiss you. you answer him by closing the gap between the two of you.

his hands fall to your waist, and he spins your body around to pull you into him.

"as a matter of fact, that is exactly what i was texting her."

masterlist.

[sovasleepy]

hot and cold

[gekko x gn!reader] - you're an agent with such a seemingly cold exterior - both physical and metaphorical - but being gekko’s saving grace might change some minds about you.

warnings: the agents kinda make assumptions about the reader, a little hurt/comfort if you squint real hard. brief mentions of injuries, unconsciousness, very minor swearing

notes: tbh a “reyna being a motherly figure to gekko” vibe popped out a little too hard but i digress. requested by anon, i hope you enjoy!

kingdom's agents were well trained.

from the freezing temperatures of russia, to the most humid days on bermudian islands, the agents were resilient to all types of weather. today wasn't supposed to be particularly challenging in that aspect. a routine mission in some section of los angeles didn't sound particularly hot.

in fact, it had been the least of your worries about two hours ago.

you respected all of the agents on the protocol, especially considering the facts that not only were you newest addition, but some of the agents on this particular trip were among the first.

reyna, omen, cypher, and gekko stood next to you as the jet approached the site you were landing at. it felt almost childish to you that you were more nervous to be around your own coworkers than you were thinking about the fact that you could be lying dead any minute now.

they hadn’t ever directly been mean to you.

omen, bless him, was never any good at showing too much concern so you didn’t mind the cold shoulder you often felt from him.

cypher had his own secretive issues, and so did reyna.

that said, you never quite found your place amongst the agents. granted, you hadn’t been here too long, but the creeping and perpetual sense of being unwanted bothered you. to add to this, your abilities directly harmed the abilities of other agents. thus, your training sessions were always against your coworkers, which didn't always seem to sit well.

speaking technically, your ability did revolve around the manipulation of heat just like phoenix's did... only, you controlled the absence of it. the reaction of his abilities made fire, and yours made ice. this meant that you and phoenix either paired a little too well.

or not at all, depending on how one wants to look at it.

and then there were the other agents. kay/o's body produced a little heat, but ultimately couldn't produce enough to shake the ice. the same for killjoy's bots, cypher's tech, chamber's utility, sova's bow, even harbor's water.

and so you began keeping to yourself.

except for on missions, when communication was key. only your communications were down, and had been for some time.

the only people you could find were dead. slouched, bloodied bodies against buildings or in doorways seemed to mock you. luckily, none of them had been the faces of those on the mission with you.

that was until you heard a weak warbling. you called back to whatever created had made the noise, and was met with another weaker sound. still, you followed the creatures direction. after a few moments of sifting through debris, you were met with the dusty and bloody face of gekko.

dizzy sat curled up in his lap. his arm was limp, but bent as if he had been holding her close. for a brief moment, you thought he was dead. however, his chest rose and fell and slow, scarily shallow breaths. he was alive at least. the next thing on your agenda was to find the source of his unconsciousness, and hopefully stop it.

you knelt down to his level. he was slouched against the wall, head lolled to his left. there were splotches of dried blood on him, just the occasional mark on his clothing or his skin, but it didn't appear to be his.

his outer thigh had a darker patch of blood, thicker and definitely coming from him. however, the wound didn’t seem like it would be severe enough to have led to his current state. something else was wrong.

you continued to inspect him. his skin was pale, but cold and sweaty. this had to be the cause, right? but there was something deeper than that, those were simply more symptoms. you looked around and observed where gekko was. the trail in the dirt around him wasn’t footsteps, but was instead the markings of gekko half-dragging himself to where he was sat.

but yet he wasn’t in any danger at the time. the only pair of footsteps that had been close to him belonged to an already-dead enemy. so he dragged himself there for what? the shade that surrounding buildings and debris provided?

of course.

your alignment with the cold also gave you the benefit of not feeling the heat so harshly. it was the middle of a californian summer afternoon, of course it was hot.

heat exhaustion. that’s what was wrong with him.

you allowed yourself to feel the cool of chilled air surround your arms. you passed a hand over dizzy and wingman, who made weak noises of thanks. as much as you would like to help them, gekko needed you more right now.

you sat down beside him and pulled him onto your lap, his head on your stomach and him situated half on and half between your legs. you didn't want to turn him too cold too quickly, worried that the rapid change might cause him more harm. to the best of your ability, you slowly chilled your own body and the air around you.

one hand was placed on his forehead and the other arm hung over chest in an attempt to disperse the cool. dizzy, apparently feeling better, wormed her way up under his feet. elevating his legs was supposed to help too, right? maybe she knew that.

faintly, you heard a noise come from gekko’s earpiece.

“mateo? answer me, mateo. are you okay?”

the voice belonged to reyna. you hadn’t enteracted with her as much as you would’ve liked, but you respected her nonetheless.

you took your hand away from his forehead. after unbinding your own broken earpiece and tossing it, you leaned down to get closer to his. pressing the small button on the side, you spoke into it.

“hello? this is y/n. gekko is with me. i think he’s going to be fine, but he’s unconscious, and i really don’t know what i’m doing.”

“y/n?” the voice belonged to cypher this time. “how about you? are you alright? your communications and vital signs went down. we thought we lost you.”

“i’m… okay, i think? a few bumps and bruises, but nothing too bad apart from the earpiece i’ll be paying for.”

“good.” reyna spoke again. “omen is here, too. we have mateo’s location and we’re on our way. a medic is with us. just keep him alive until then.”

“got it.”

rushed as it may be, the concern they showed you warmed your heart. but everything felt like it was going to be okay. help was on its way, everyone was alive, and the mission was successful.

“just me and you guys,” you spoke, looking down at wingman and dizzy, who looked equally worried.

true to their word, the jet landed close to you roughly three minutes later. reyna was the first one to step foot off the aircraft, and the next thirty minutes went by in a blur. when your brain finally settled from its adrenaline high, you plopped down in a chair next to gekko’s bed in the makeshift-infirmary of the jet. reyna stood at the end of the bed. her arms were crossed and she wore her usual stern and hard-to-read face.

“the doctor said he was be alright, y’know.” she spoke after what felt like twenty minutes of comfortable silence.

you looked up from where you had been spaced out, staring at gekko. wingman was on the floor at your feet and you were absently letting him play with your fingers. however, he stopped to look up at reyna too.

“i hope so. i was… scared. honestly, i was beginning to think you guys would have left me. not that i would blame you. everything was down, you had every right to assume i was dead.”

“never.” she spoke. there was a chilling certainty in her voice. “you are an asset.”

“i suppose.” you paused for a beat, debating whether or not to finish your sentence. “i adore you guys. all of you. i think i just have a hard time finding my value to you all.”

you were met with silence. it festered, feeding the anxiety already unfurling within your chest. finally, reyna spoke again.

“admittedly, it’s hard to join the protocol and feel like you fit in. mateo felt the same way when he first joined, too, but the feeling goes away eventually. he wanted to speak to you, y’know?”

“he did?”

“all the time. he has this… fantastical way about him when he speaks about you. like he has all these… emotions or something built up, and instead of talking to you he’s trying to fit them all into two sentences while i’m still drinking my damn coffee.”

you couldn’t help but smile. you were always so nervous to talk to him, yet you never took the time to consider the fact that maybe he was nervous to talk to you too.

[drvscarlett]

Sweet Nothings (3)

Carlos Sainz x Pageant Queen!Reader

Summary: All that they ever wanted was sweet nothings but everything changed like midnight rain.

Sweet Nothings 1 2 3 4

A/N: this the second to the last chapter. The last chapter would be in story format and a lil bit of smau. Let me know what you folks think about this one.

ChiliUpdates just posted a photo

ChiliUpdates Media day duties for Carlos in Vegas today!

User5 Goodluck on Vegas,get that WDC carlos

User6 VAMOS CARLOSSSSS

User7 look at him being so smiley

User16 im so happy to see Carlos smiling so much, he deserves happiness.

ChiliUpdates posted a reel

//We are ready to extend our lead for the championship. I have a very good feeling that with my skills, car, and some luck then we might be able to surpass Max before we race in Abu Dhabi. I'm really excited to drive this weekend.//

liked by YNjpeg and 600,552 others

User6 Never imagined we will be fighting for the WDC this year

User7 Im gonna go and pray for a Ferrari 1-2

User8 Carlos is really a driven man, respect!

User10 Carlos are you getting excited to drive this weekend because someone is also here in vegas 👀

QueenYNUpdates just posted a photo.

liked by CarlosSainz55 and 2,982 others.

QueenYNUpdates Her gown for the prelims and the swimsuit competition

User7 DUDE THE GOWN!!!

User8 THE SLO MO TURN, MISS MAAM???

User65 ate and left no crumbs, all the other contestants can go home

YNjpeg posted a photo.

Liked by CarlosSainz55, McLaren, and 987,562 others

YNjpeg this is what we called the Ibong Adarna dress. It is inspired by a Filipino mythological bird that has the ability to enchant anyone who hears it sing. Furthermore, the Ibong Adarna is also a phoenix that regenerates and rises from the ashes. The dress is a symbol of resilience, rising and rebirth 🧡

Thank you for the team for making this amazing craftmanship.

User8 The lore behind her dress??? NO ONE CAN TOP HER ATTENTION TO DETAILS

User9 everyone should do it like her

User10 she is SERVINGGG,MY MISS UNIVERSE 2024

McLaren our 🧡👑

User5 admin so real for this one User6 anyone wanna bet with me that this is Lando's doing? User20 the fact that she is still the papaya queen for mclaren is like how carlos is still an unofficial family of mclaren

CarlosY/NUpdates posted a photo.

CarlosY/NUpdates Carlos Sainz' face when someone showed him a photo of Y/N in her prelim gown.

User5 wtf,why did they have to show him that???

User1 right??? stop bringing her up. User3 Hi im the one that showed him that. I was watching miss universe while waiting for carlos to sign a cap. Carlos saw my screen and asked me if I could show him when Y/N is on the screen. He was in the middle of the interview when Y/N came up so I kind of screamed to show him. Im sorry if I made any trouble. User9 me reading this made me cry

User6 look at the man and tell me that he is not in love with her

User7 he never stopped loving her, thats my theory.

User8 Im gonna play Gracie Abrams all over again

User10 Carlos you might trick everyone but those eyes dont lie.

ChiliUpdates just posted a photo.

liked by YNjpeg and 3,234 others

ChiliUpdates Carlos Sainz wins the Las Vegas Grand Prix. He is now 4 points ahead of Max Verstappen and is currently P1 in the WDC.

User1 WOW CARLOS!! WE USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS

User2 THE NEXT FERRARI CHAMPION IS CARLOS. IM CALLING IT.

User3 Look at the pure glee on his face when he won. He deserves this so much

User4 Thats our smooothhh operatorrrrrr

User10 MISS MAAM YNjpeg what are you doing lurking here???

User11 isnt the miss universe starting in a few minutes??? User17 Y/N never beating the they are not yet over each other allegations

CarlosY/NUpdates just posted a photo.

CarlosY/NUpdates someone just saw Carlos outside the place for the Miss Universe!!!! They also reported Lando, Lewis, and Charles at the venue as well

User1 he is going to see Y/N! ITS HAPPENING!!!

User2 I love a supportive ex

User3 Y/N bringing out the whole grid to support her, its just so wholesome to think about

User7 They really went from racing suits to formal wear in an hour, Y/N's power over the grid User8 they really love her User9 especially Carlos. The man didn't celebrate and went to her right away User10 why did they ever break up?? they are so good with each other

User11 ugly crying

User12 I want a supportive ex boyfriend and a supportive friend group.

QueenY/NUpdates

liked by CarlosSainz55, LandoNorris, and 872,983 others

QueenY/NUpdates Take a look at the girl on fire! This is Y/N's evening gown, she is simply gorgeous in red!

User7 ugly crying, she is so beautiful

User55 WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THE DRESS BEING IN RED???

User9 its literally screaming carlos sainz User10 Y/N and Carlos's color is definitely red

User8 SHE DESERVES THE CROWN, GIVE IT TO HER ALREADY!!

User12 and the explanation how she paid homage to her mother's hometown??? SHE IS OUR QUEEN

User13 i love how her dresses has a certain piece of history

User14 i dont usually watch pageants and I got curious because an ex wag is here but MYGOD SHE IS STUNNING!!

User22 send everyone home, Y/N is taking the crown

LandoNorris posted a story

YNjpeg replied: im so so grateful for your love and support LandoNorris replied: so proud of you!!! You deserve the best YNjpeg replied: stop making me cry LandoNorris replied: Carlos cried a lot when they started crowning you. LandoNorris replied: he has to share his universe to the universe lol

CarlosSainz55 just posted a photo.

CarlosSainz55 When I tell you that you are beautiful, I am not simply talking about your looks. I talk about your eyes that shows compassion, your heart that is so generous, and your voice that speaks for those who cannot speak for themselves.

I am extremely proud of you YNjpeg. Everything was worth it.

YNjpeg I'm always grateful for your support.

CarlosSainz55 always here for you.

CarlosSainz55 limited comments to this post.

[dee-writes-smut]

SUMMER (Chapter Four)

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY healing is a long journey that can't be summed up in just four simple seasons, but it seems with the help of a certain shadowsinger at your side, you've seemed to do it.

CONTENT WARNINGS mentions of nightmares, apologies, scared reader, comforting Azriel, Cassian POV, and mentions of wingspans ;)

AUTHORS NOTE the finale you've all been waiting for is finally here as promised! Thank you all so much for your support during this series, I am excited to be back and writing for you all again! Love you all and I hope you enjoy! <3

Summer arrives like a promise fulfilled, a canvas awash with vibrant hues of green and gold, as if nature herself has donned her finest attire. The air hums with the gentle whisper of transformation, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the promise of new beginnings on its warm breeze.

As the sun stretches its golden fingers across the land, casting long shadows that dance in its radiant glow, there's a palpable sense of rejuvenation in the air. It's as if each dawn heralds a new chapter, a chance to shed the burdens of the past and embrace the endless possibilities of the present.

In this season of abundance, life bursts forth with an exuberance that is both intoxicating and invigorating. The world awakens from its slumber, blossoming with a riot of colors as flowers unfurl their petals in joyful defiance of the lingering chill of winter. Leaves rustle in the gentle caress of the wind, their verdant whispers carrying tales of resilience and growth.

Amidst this symphony of nature's symphony, there is a sense of newfound strength coursing through every living thing. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the warmth of the sun infuses each day with a sense of possibility, igniting a fire within the soul that refuses to be extinguished.

In the heart of summer, time seems to slow, allowing moments to linger like the last rays of sunlight on a balmy evening. It's a season of exploration and adventure, where every day holds the promise of discovery and every sunset marks the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.

And as the days stretch languidly into twilight, there is a quiet resilience that takes root, a deep-seated belief in the power of new beginnings and the strength that comes from embracing change. For in the heart of summer, beneath the sweltering heat and the endless blue skies, lies the untold promise of tomorrow, waiting to be seized with both hands and forged into something beautiful.

(Mid Summer, Velaris)

The afternoon sun poured into the training ring, casting long shadows of the figures sparring lightly within it. Cassian was across from me, a patient yet mischievous grin on his face, as he handed me a training sword. “Ready to get your ass kicked, or are you going to make me work for it today?”

I smirked, feeling the flutter of my old spirit stirring within. “Dream on, Cassian.”

The clash of our swords sang through the air, a melody of metal that resonated with the pounding of my heart. Each strike, each parry, felt like shedding layers of fear that had cocooned me since losing my wings.

“Focus,” Cassian said, his voice a mix of sternness and encouragement. “Remember, it’s not just about strength. It’s about knowing your opponent.”

I nodded, gripping my own wooden sword a little tighter. As I lunged forward, Cassian parried easily, countering with a swift movement that I barely blocked in time. We moved in a rhythm, the clack of our swords punctuating each maneuver. My muscles remembered the dance, even if they ached from disuse. Cassian’s style was a flurry of motion, designed to overwhelm, but today he tempered his usual ferocity, giving me room to find my footing again. The physical exertion was grounding, pulling me further away from my mental ghosts.

Laughter and shouts from Mor, watching from the sidelines, filled the arena, her cheers a buoyant soundtrack to our dance of blades and as we paused for a break, Mor jogged over with a waterskin and a smirk. She threw an arm around my shoulders, squeezing tightly. “Look at you! You’re almost back to your old self,” she beamed, her pride evident.

The warmth from her compliment soaked through me, loosening some of the tightness still lingering in my chest. “Feels good to move like that again,” I admitted, allowing the truth of my words to wash over me. It did feel good—like claiming back pieces of my soul, piece by piece.

“You two look like you’re having fun,” she smiled, squeezing me close again as she handed me the waterskin. After I took a long drink, she shot me a sly glance. “Speaking of fun, have you noticed how Azriel can't seem to stay away from your side?”

Mor’s eyebrows wiggled as I coughed on the water, wiping my mouth as I tried to compose myself. “He’s just being supportive,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat up.

Cassian chuckled, leaning on his sword. “Oh, he’s being supportive, all right. Haven’t seen him this glued to someone since… well, ever.”

I rolled my eyes, but the seed of awareness began to sprout in my mind. Azriel had indeed been a constant presence, his quiet strength a comfort I hadn’t realized I’d leaned on so much.

“Do you think it might be a mating bond?” Mor asked casually, too casually, as she inspected her nails.

The question halted me, the weight of the implication settling in my stomach like a stone. The mating bond was sacred, profound—was I ready for something like that? The very thought made my heart race, not just with fear but with a blossoming hope I hadn’t acknowledged until now.

“Maybe he’s just being a good friend,” I countered, but my voice lacked conviction.

Cassian raised an eyebrow, giving me a knowing look. “When you know, you know,” he said simply. “And it looks like you’re starting to realize something there.”

We resumed training, but his words echoed in my mind with each strike and block. Azriel’s face appeared in my thoughts, his smiles, the gentle touch of his hands, the way his eyes lit up when he looked at me lately. My feelings for him, which I had shelved as mere gratitude or the simple need for companionship during recovery, seemed to be deepening into something richer, more profound.

As we finished and walked back towards the House of Wind, Mor looped her arm through mine. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once,” she whispered. “But don’t close your heart to the possibility of something beautiful. Azriel cares for you deeply, more than just as a friend or protector.”

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow that bathed the world in a soft, forgiving light. It felt symbolic, reflective of my own internal dawn. Maybe, just maybe, I was ready to consider that what lay between Azriel and me could be the kind of love that songs and tales were spun from. As fear and doubt receded, leaving room for this new, tender hope, I realized that my journey of healing was also leading me down a path of rediscovering my capacity to love—not just Azriel, but myself and this new life I was slowly, bravely building.

(Mid Summer, The River House)

That evening, the dinner with the Inner Circle was held at the sprawling, candlelit table in the River House. The atmosphere was thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses, a symphony of friendship and familial bonds. The windows were thrown open, allowing the crisp, cool air of Velaris to sweep through the room, mixing with the scent of jasmine and roasted meats.

As I entered the dining room, a subtle change in my demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by the group. Rhysand was the first to catch my eye, giving me a nod of approval and a warm, welcoming smile. Amren, ever observant, watched me with her piercing gaze, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips, acknowledging the shift in my spirits.

Azriel, standing slightly apart, offered me a soft, encouraging smile as I took my place next to him. His quiet strength bolstered my newfound resolve to engage more fully with those around me.

Dinner began with a lively discussion led by Feyre about a recent exhibition at the art gallery in the city. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she described the vibrant colors and revolutionary techniques of the new artists showcased. I listened, chiming in with my thoughts on the integration of night and day themes, which earned an approving laugh from Rhys.

As the meal continued, Cassian, true to form, began recounting one of his training escapades, embellishing the details to make his tale more dramatic. “And then, just as I was about to execute my perfectly planned maneuver, an Illyrian baby sneezed on me. Totally threw off my game!”

Laughter erupted around the table, and I found myself genuinely chuckling, the sound surprising even to me. “Only you, Cassian, could be outmaneuvered by a baby’s sneeze,” I teased, earning a round of applause and a mock bow from Cassian.

“See, she’s got jokes now! Our girl’s coming back to us,” Mor exclaimed, her face alight with joy. She reached over to squeeze my hand, her gesture warm and reassuring.

As plates were cleared and desserts were served, the conversation shifted to lighter, more personal stories. Feyre shared anecdotes about her latest painting misadventures, while Mor detailed her plans for the upcoming festival in the city. Each story, each shared laugh, felt like a stitch mending the frayed edges of my soul.

As the dinner party began to wind down in the warm, laughter-filled hall, a soft coo from the corner caught my attention. Nyx, cradled gently in Feyre’s arms, was awake and curiously peeking over her shoulder with wide, starry eyes. I felt my heart tug softly. It had been too long since I had held him, too long since I’d allowed myself to be part of these simpler, beautiful family moments.

Feyre caught my gaze and smiled, understanding immediately. “Someone wants to say hello,” she said softly, walking over with Nyx. His small hand reached out, and I couldn’t help but smile as his fingers grasped at the air between us.

“May I?” I asked, my voice a whisper of excitement mixed with a hint of uncertainty.

“Of course,” Feyre replied, carefully transferring Nyx into my arms. The baby settled against me with ease, a soft sigh escaping him as if he found comfort in my embrace. His tiny hand reached up, touching my cheek gently, an innocent gesture that felt like a reassurance of missed affection. It was as if he was saying he remembered me, that he too had felt the absence of our connection.

The moment wasn’t lost on Azriel, who watched from a short distance. His shadows flickered subtly around him, a telltale sign of his emotions stirring beneath that calm exterior. Since the conversation with Cassian and Mor earlier today, every glance, every small interaction with him seemed charged with a new, silent tension. My newly admitted feelings for him amplified each shared look, adding weight to the air between us.

As I rocked Nyx gently, my thoughts drifted to Azriel again. His presence at my side had become a constant, his support unwavering. The depth of my affection for him had crept up silently, weaving itself into the fabric of my daily life until it was indistinguishable from my other truths. I found myself stealing glances at him, each look a quiet confession of the feelings I was only beginning to allow myself to acknowledge.

Azriel eventually made his way over, his gaze softening as he looked at Nyx in my arms. “He’s missed you,” Azriel murmured, his voice barely audible over the low hum of conversation around us.

I met his eyes, feeling a flush of warmth at the intimacy of the moment. “I’ve missed him, too. Missed all of this,” I admitted, my voice thick with emotion. The way Azriel looked at me then, with such warmth and depth, made my heart skip a beat.

“Looks good on you,” he said after a pause, nodding towards Nyx.

The comment, simple and offhand, thrummed with unspoken meanings. It was a nudge against the boundaries we had maintained, a gentle probing into the new spaces of my heart that had begun to open to him.

As I handed Nyx back to Feyre, I caught Azriel’s arm gently. “Stay for a moment?” I asked, my voice hopeful, laden with the weight of all the things I hadn’t yet said.

He nodded, his usual reserve melting away for a moment as he stayed by my side, his presence a silent promise of things perhaps soon to be explored. We both knew something unspoken was shifting between us, and while neither of us was ready to dive into those waters just yet, acknowledging it—even in silence—felt like the first step toward a new horizon.

(Mid Summer, The House of Wind)

The following week, Feyre, Mor, Nesta, and I revived our "book club"—a ruse for nights filled with wine, wild discussions about our latest reads, and shared secrets under the cloak of night. As I sat curled up on a plush couch, a glass of wine in hand, surrounded by these incredible women, a profound sense of belonging enveloped me. Here, in these moments, I was safe to just be; to heal, to laugh, to grow.

The cozy nook tucked away in the House of Wind had become our sanctuary, a place where the Inner Circle’s book club convened to discuss literature, life, and everything in between. Tonight, as the flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across the room, I settled into my usual spot among the plush cushions, surrounded by my closest friends.

Feyre, Nesta, and Mor lounged around me, each with a book in hand, their faces alight with anticipation for our weekly gathering. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, the air buzzing with the promise of lively conversation and shared insights.

“So, what’s everyone reading this week?” Mor asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced around the circle.

Feyre held up a worn copy of her latest find, a tale of forbidden love and political intrigue. “I’m revisiting an old favorite,” she said with a smile. “It’s like catching up with an old friend.”

Nesta, with a smirk playing on her lips, produced a rather scandalous-looking novel with a provocative cover. “I’m exploring the more… sensual side of literature,” she declared, her voice dripping with amusement.

As the conversation flowed around me, I couldn’t help but chuckle at Nesta’s choice. Leave it to her to bring a little spice to our book club discussions. I was hesitant to share tonight, scared to share my feelings so blatantly, to say them out loud in a space with women who would not so soon let me forget. Tonight felt different, though, I felt stronger, able to seize this chance to share with my friends the tumultuous emotions swirling inside me.

“I’ve been reading this collection of poetry,” I began, my voice tentative at first. “It’s funny how words can capture the complexity of human emotions so beautifully.”

Mor’s eyes gleamed with interest, her grin widening. “Ah, poetry—the language of the heart,” she said, her tone teasing yet tender. “Any particular poem speaking to you?”

I hesitated, my gaze flickering to the empty spot where Azriel usually sat. His absence was keenly felt, a reminder of the unresolved tension between us. “There’s one poem that resonates with me,” I admitted, my voice growing stronger with each word. “It’s about…” I faltered, the weight of my confession heavy on my tongue.

Feyre leaned forward, her eyes warm with understanding. “About love?” she prompted gently, her hand reaching out to squeeze mine in silent support.

I nodded, the words spilling forth in a rush. “About love, and fear, and the courage to open your heart to someone—even when it scares you.”

Nesta regarded me with a thoughtful expression, her gaze piercing yet compassionate. “Love is a battlefield,” she said, her voice soft yet firm. “But sometimes, the greatest victories come from facing our fears head-on.”

Mor chimed in with her trademark humor, lightening the mood with a well-timed joke. “Who knew our stoic Shadowsinger had a soft spot for you?”

Feyre smiled knowingly, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Maybe it’s time to confront the shadows and see what lies beneath.”

Nesta couldn’t resist adding her own brand of wit to the conversation. “Speaking of shadows,” she said with a sly grin, “has anyone else noticed Azriel’s wingspan lately?”

We all laughed at Nesta’s comment, the tension in the room dissipating as we embraced the camaraderie of our little gathering. Despite the challenges we faced, tonight was a reminder that with the support of friends, even the darkest shadows could be chased away.

As the evening wore on, our conversation drifted from books to more personal topics, each of us sharing snippets of our lives and experiences. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, a chance to peel back the layers and reveal the raw truths hidden beneath.

Nesta, ever the enigma, shared tales of her latest adventures in the human lands, her sharp wit and cunning intellect shining through with every word.

Mor, always the life of the party, regaled us with stories of her escapades in the Court of Nightmares, her laughter contagious as she recounted her misadventures.

And Feyre, with her quiet strength and unwavering compassion, offered words of wisdom and encouragement, her presence a soothing balm to our troubled souls.

As for me, I found solace in their company, the weight of my burdens eased by the warmth of their friendship. In their laughter and shared moments, I found the courage to confront my fears and embrace the possibility of a brighter future.

And as the candles burned low and the night grew late, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, I would face them with the unwavering support of my sisters by my side.

The support of the entire Inner Circle was a force as tangible as the magic that coursed through our veins—a constant, steadfast presence that fortified me against the darker moments. Their belief in me, their unyielding backing, gave me strength, and little by little, I began to feel not just the shadow of the person I once was, but someone stronger, resilient, reborn from adversity.

In these gatherings, these moments of shared vulnerability and joy, I was not just healing. I was transforming—emerging not how I was before the kidnapping, but perhaps even brighter, tempered by trials and warmed by the unwavering light of the family I chose and who had chosen me in return.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The night pressed heavily around the room, its silence a thick, oppressive blanket punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of Azriel beside me. In the comfort of his proximity, sleep had finally granted me a temporary reprieve from the relentless torment of my nightmares. Yet, the peace was fragile, vulnerable to the slightest disturbance—a reality proven as a sharp, inexplicable chill sliced through the room's stagnant warmth.

The temperature plummeted, wrapping its icy fingers around my spine, jolting me awake. My eyes flicked open, instantly scanning the familiar contours of the room bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight. Shadows clung to the walls like dark, silent sentinels until one stirred coalescing into a form far too human, far too familiar.

Lyris emerged from the darkness as though materializing from my deepest fears, his presence a tangible echo of past horrors. His eyes, sharp and merciless, locked onto mine with the precision of a hunter sighting its prey. The sheer malevolence in his gaze sent a visceral shudder through me, yet it was no longer solely fear that stirred within my veins. Anger, raw and blazing, kindled within, fueling a burgeoning defiance I hadn't known I possessed.

"Thinking you could escape me?" Lyris's voice was a venomous hiss, his form inching closer with predatory grace. His smirk was twisted, a grotesque mask of sadistic anticipation.

But then, with the seamless reflexes honed by centuries of battle, Azriel was between us. His body moved with lethal precision, his hand snapping out to seize Lyris by the wrist, halting his advance with unyielding strength. "She's under my protection," Azriel snarled, his voice a dangerous, low rumble. His other hand flicked to his side, the sound of steel sliding from leather slicing through the tension as he brandished a dagger, its blade catching the moon's silver light.

Lyris recoiled slightly, his eyes darting to the blade then back to Azriel’s unwavering stare. "You think you can keep her from her fate?" he spat, struggling against Azriel's iron grip.

“Her fate is her own, and you have no part in it,” Azriel retorted, his wings unfurling menacingly. The air around us thickened with dark, swirling shadows, responding to the raw power emanating from him. In that moment, he was not just my protector but an avenging angel cloaked in night's embrace.

The room filled with a heavy, expectant silence, thick with the weight of unspoken threats. Breaking the tension, I found my voice, though it trembled with the force of my emotions. "Where are my wings, Lyris?" The question tore from me, a desperate plea tangled with a demand.

"Your wings?" he mused mockingly, his eyes glinting with cruelty. "Such a precious prize… Let's just say they're kept in a place where they await their true destiny—far from your reach.”

"Give them back," Azriel demanded, his tone lethal, a stark contrast to the deceptive calm of his posture.

Lyris's laugh was cold and chilling, like the howl of the wind outside. "You overestimate your power here, shadow singer. I could take her now, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."

Azriel's response was swift and deadly serious. "Try it, and it will be the last thing you do." His wings unfurled dramatically as he snatched Lyris’ wrist in a powerful grip, the span of dark membrane filling the room with a sense of otherworldly power. The shadows around him deepened, swirling in response to his anger and the protective fury that laced every syllable.

The standoff stretched, a moment suspended in time where every breath, every heartbeat was laden with potential violence. Then, with a jerk, Lyris wrenched free, stepping back into the protective shroud of darkness. “She will never be free from me," he hissed, his presence oppressive, suffocating. "And neither will you."

Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he dissolved into shadows, leaving a cold void in his wake. His final words echoed ominously, a malevolent promise hanging in the air. As the immediate threat vanished, Azriel’s demeanor shifted, the lethal warrior receding to reveal his concern. He turned to me, his intense gaze softening. “Are you alright?” His voice was now a gentle whisper, a stark contrast to the deadly thunder from moments before.

I collapsed back against the pillows, my body trembling uncontrollably. The fear wasn't just about the physical presence of Lyris—it was the emotional and psychological terror, the deep scars he had left on my soul, that overwhelmed me.

Azriel sat beside me, enveloping me in his arms, his presence a solid, reassuring force against the lingering echoes of dread. "I'm here. You're safe," he murmured against my hair, his voice a soothing balm.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, sobs wracking my body as the terror slowly ebbed away, replaced by immense fatigue. "We have to get them back, Azriel. I need to feel whole again."

His embrace tightened, a silent promise of unyielding support. "We will," he assured me quietly. "No matter what it takes, we will bring them back.” He took a deep breath, his arms tightening around me as if he were scared that I might run from him. “Always, I will protect you. From him, from anyone who dares to threaten you,” he murmured into my hair, his breath warm against my scalp. His wings, now gently wrapped around us, formed a cocoon that felt impenetrable.

Settling back against him, I allowed the warmth of his embrace to seep deeper into my bones, expelling the lingering chill of Lyris's visit. His presence was a bastion, within which I found not only protection but a profound sense of belonging.

As we lay back down, the room once again shrouded in the soothing silence of night, a new resolve fortified my spirit. Lyris had found me, yes, but he had not found me alone, nor would he ever. Azriel’s vow to protect me was more than a promise—it was a declaration, a sentinel set against the darkness, both within and without. As sleep beckoned once more, the shadows no longer seemed an ominous threat lurking in the corners but allies, guardians cloaked in the same darkness that wrapped around us, a shield against all that would do harm.

(Late Summer, Cassian)

The morning after Lyris's intrusion, the House of Wind seemed to hold its breath, an unspoken tension palpable in the air. Everyone had shared their worries for her, our friend who had clawed her way back from that bastard's torment. We all worried, we all loved her so greatly, enjoyed the way her presence warmed Azriel’s cold exterior and to see her fall back into that dark place she had fought her way out of, to take Azriel unknowingly with her again, it poured a dark sense of grief over the house.

But amidst the uncertainty, the deep seeded fear of losing our friend once more, there was a glimmer of light, a beacon of hope cutting through the darkness. Entering the kitchen, I was met with a scene that caught me off guard—our friend, her laughter ringing out like a bell as she shared a moment of levity with Azriel. It was a rare sight, one that stirred a mixture of surprise and quiet satisfaction within me.

Azriel, usually cloaked in shadows both literal and metaphorical, had a small, genuine smile playing at the corners of his lips. His usually guarded demeanor seemed to soften in her presence, and I couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in the air between them.

Their interaction spoke volumes, a silent language of understanding and companionship that transcended words. Despite the trials they had faced, there was a sense of comfort and familiarity in their shared laughter, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still light to be found in the company of those we held dear.

As I joined them in the kitchen, a silent witness to their shared moment of joy, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the bond that had formed between them. Their friendship had weathered storms that would have broken lesser souls, and yet here they were, laughing together as if the weight of the world had been lifted from their shoulders.

And as I observed them, surrounded by the warmth of their laughter and the comfort of their companionship, I couldn't help but feel a surge of hope for the future. For in the bond between her and Azriel, I saw strength, resilience, and the promise of brighter days ahead.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The day had been long and daunting, with every passing moment feeling like a test of endurance. The worry from my friends was palpable, their concern etched into every glance and every word. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate their care—it was their hovering, their treating me like a fragile thing, that grated against my newfound sense of strength. But amidst it all, there was Azriel.

He stood as a steadfast anchor amidst the storm, a silent guardian who watched over me with unwavering determination. While others fretted and fussed, he remained at my side, a silent sentinel who seemed to understand without the need for words. His presence alone was enough to bolster my spirits, to remind me that I was not alone in this struggle.

Throughout the day, I found myself stealing glances at him, marveling at the depth of his care. How had I not noticed it before? His gaze lingered on me with a mixture of concern and understanding, his eyes a window to the depths of his soul. It was as if he saw straight through the facade I presented to the world, recognizing the strength within me even when I doubted it myself.

As evening descended and the weight of the day settled upon us, we retreated to the familiar sanctuary of my room. Azriel had made it his own, his presence a comforting presence in the darkness. The routine of preparing for bed had become second nature to us—changing into pajamas, brushing our teeth side by side, and slipping under the covers as Azriel performed his meticulous check of the room.

In the quiet moments before sleep claimed us, we lay in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for Azriel's unwavering support, for his steadfast presence that had seen me through the darkest of days. It was a bond forged in the crucible of adversity, a connection that defied explanation yet felt more real than anything I had ever known.

“Azriel?” I called softly into the night, my voice barely a whisper.

He turned to me, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window. For a moment, we simply gazed at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. And then, with a small smile, he reached out, pulling me closer until I was nestled against his chest.

At that moment, as I lay nestled against Azriel's chest, something shifted between us—a subtle yet profound change that altered the very fabric of our connection. It was as if the air crackled with an invisible energy, a tangible tension that seemed to draw us closer together.

I felt it first, the unmistakable sensation of the mating bond snapping into place with a sudden clarity that took my breath away. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. The primal need to be close to him, to feel his presence as an extension of my own, suddenly made perfect sense.

And then, as if in response to my realization, Azriel let out a small gasp, his arms tightening around me with a fierce urgency that mirrored my own. It was a primal, instinctual reaction, as if some ancient part of him recognized the significance of this moment and refused to let me go.

In that instant, all doubts and uncertainties melted away, replaced by a profound sense of clarity and understanding. We were bound together, our souls intertwined in a way that transcended the physical realm. And as I gazed into Azriel's eyes, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united by the unbreakable bond that now bound us.

"I'll protect you, ensure you are safe and happy and loved," Azriel vowed, his voice a soothing melody that wrapped around me like a warm embrace, promising sanctuary in the depths of his love.

Tears welled in my eyes as his words washed over me, a flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm my fragile resolve. "As will I," I replied, my voice trembling with the weight of my own commitment, my heart laid bare before him in a moment of raw vulnerability.

His eyes, pools of darkness tinged with golden fire, bore into mine with a fierce intensity, piercing through the walls I had built around my heart. "Throughout all the seasons you will be mine, if that is what you want?" His voice was a whisper, yet it echoed through the chambers of my soul, stirring something deep within me that I could no longer deny.

With a trembling breath, I reached out to him, my fingers trembling as they traced the contours of his face, memorizing every line, every scar, every shadow that danced across his skin. "There is no one else I would rather share them with," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, the truth of my words ringing out in the quiet room like a sacred vow.

And in that moment, as our souls intertwined in the golden threads of the mating bond, I felt a surge of emotion wash over me, overwhelming in its intensity. It was as if the weight of a thousand lifetimes had been lifted from my shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace and belonging that I had longed for all my life.

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I pressed my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the space between us as we stood on the precipice of eternity. In that sacred embrace, we found refuge from the storms that had battered our souls, forging a connection that would endure the trials of time. And as we surrendered to the pull of the mating bond, our hearts beat as one, a symphony of love and devotion that echoed through the halls of the House of Wind.

Together, we would face the challenges that lay ahead, our bond a beacon of hope in the darkness, guiding us through the labyrinth of life with unwavering strength and unwavering love.

For in each other's arms, we had found our home, our sanctuary, our forever. And as the night enveloped us in its embrace, we knew that no matter what trials awaited us, we would face them together, united in a love that was destined to last for all eternity.

[PREVIOUS]

[sunflowerabyss]

Hi!! Omg i just discovered your stories and i LOVE them!! There's not enough fics about older remus, i love that you write for him🙌🏼 so i have a request: Could you write something with Older remus and younger reader who is Severus's little sister? (Like maybe Tonks age). Where they met at the Order but him and Sirius don't trust her at first because she dresses in all black (very typical witchy aesthetic, just like Severus) and has a serious resting face so she doesn't look very friendly... but then he realizes she's actually shy and sweet and bubbly.

Idk, that's the general idea i have, you'll have to see how to make them end up together🤭 Btw, if you don't like the idea don't worry! Just ignore it😁

Dances in the Dark

Pairings: Older!Remus Lupin x Fem!Younger!Reader

A/N: Awww, first off, thank you for your kind words! I love older Remus and feel like he doesn't get the recognition he deserves. I hope I lived up to your expectations, it was a fun write!

Warnings: Age gap (reader is 25), Fluff

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As Severus Snape's younger sister, you were a study in contrasts. At twenty-five, your age belied the depth of experience etched onto your features. Growing up in the shadow of your elder brother's reputation had forged you into a resilient and independent witch. The Snape bloodline ran thick with a unique blend of brilliance and tenacity, traits that manifested in both Severus and yourself.

Your magical abilities exceeded those of many your age, a fact that had earned you a place within the Order of the Phoenix. The decision to allow you to join the ranks was met with skepticism, especially from Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.

It was this very similarity that triggered distrust among some Order members. Remus and Sirius, in particular, eyed you warily, wary of potential deception or hidden agendas.

The first time Remus Lupin laid eyes on you, he couldn't help but draw parallels between your demeanor and that of your older brother. Dressed in all black, your attire mirrored Severus's signature aesthetic, and your serious resting face painted you in the same guarded hues. You exuded an aura of stern determination, an exterior that echoed the standoffish nature associated with the Snape name.

Sirius Black, ever the provocateur, couldn't resist making a snarky comment. As they stood in the corridor outside the meeting room, Sirius leaned in, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Did you notice, Remus? Little Miss Snape over there is like a mini Snivellus. Same brooding aesthetic, same unimpressed face. Bet she's got a cauldron of bat spleens hidden in that black dress of hers."

Remus shot Sirius a disapproving glance, his eyes narrowing. "Sirius, she's here to help. Let's not jump to conclusions quite yet."

Sirius chuckled, undeterred by Remus's disapproval. "Right you are, Moony. But a Snape is a Snape, and you know how much I trust them."

Remus sighed, realizing that getting Sirius to see past his biases would be a battle of its own. Truth is though, Remus isn't sure if he can trust you either. Sure, Severus helped him brew Wolfsbane, but that was under Dumbledore's order. Remus still wouldn't trust him as far as he can throw him.

As the meeting progressed, Remus couldn't help but keep a watchful eye on you. The air thickened with tension, and the wariness in the room mirrored the doubt that clung to you.

He observed from a distance, noting the way you isolated yourself, much like Severus. Yet, amidst the stoicism, there were subtle moments that caught his attention--a fleeting smile, a quiet chuckle at a fellow member's joke. These small glimpses contradicted the Snape facade, hinting at a more complex persona beneath the surface.

After the meeting concluded, Remus decided to approach, determined to unravel the mystery behind your Severus-esque facade.

"Severus's sister, right?" Remus inquired, his voice a blend of curiosity and caution. You met his gaze, and the intensity in your eyes surprised him. It was a gaze that held secrets, a silent challenge.

"Yes. Y/N," you replied, your tone measured.

"It's good to have you here with the Order."

"It's good to be with the Order."

Remus nodded, though uncertainty lingered. Over the following weeks, he observed you from a distance, noticing your tendency to retreat into the shadows, engrossed in books and spellwork.

Remus eventually found himself enchanted by the subtle charms of you. As you immersed yourself in the world of books, Remus couldn't help but notice the endearing quirks that made you all the more captivating. The gentle kick of your feet, an unconscious expression of joy, as you delved into the pages of a captivating novel added a playful touch to your serious demeanor. During spellwork, your movements were a graceful dance of magic, revealing a finesse and dedication that spoke volumes about your skill. In moments of solitude, Remus caught the soft chuckle you tried to stifle at the humor within the pages of a book or the unexpected outcome of a spell. The quiet library echoed with the delighted squeal that escaped your lips when you ventured into the realm of romance novels, a momentary lapse into unabashed joy. Your serious exterior slowly cracked, revealing a shy and sweet nature that few took the time to uncover.

Every night at Grimmauld Place was draped in an uneasy stillness, and the weight of the impending war pressed heavily on your shoulders. Unable to find sleep, you found refuge in the dimly lit library, the soft glow of candles flickering in tandem with the music streaming quietly through an old record player. Your fingers traced the edges of an old book as lyrics danced in your ears, a desperate attempt to find tranquility in the chaos.

Remus, too, roamed the halls restlessly, unable to succumb to the embrace of sleep. The subtle melody of muggle music drew him toward the library, and as he entered, he discovered you immersed in the world of both literature and music. The sight was enchanting--you, surrounded by the soft glow, lost in the rhythm of the night.

A gentle clearing of his throat alerted you to Remus's presence. Startled, you turned around, a sheepish smile playing on your lips. "Sorry if I woke you up," you apologized, the sincerity in your voice echoing in the quiet room.

Remus shook his head, a small smile forming. "No need to apologize. I was already awake. Mind if I join you?"

A nod of agreement passed between you, and Remus took a seat across from you. The awkward tension that had lingered in the air seemed to dissipate as he asked, "What keeps you up at this hour?"

You sighed, your eyes reflecting the weariness that clung to your soul. "Just trying to find some peace amidst the chaos, I guess."

Remus understood, a shared sentiment etched on his features. "I feel the same. The world outside these walls is anything but quiet."

The conversation flowed naturally as you both discussed the music, finding common ground in the tunes that resonated with you. The library transformed into a haven where the war seemed distant, if only for a moment. As one song faded into another, a daring thought crossed your mind.

"Would you like to dance?" you asked, your voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

Remus blinked in surprise, his expression softening. "Dance? Here?"

A mischievous grin tugged at your lips as you stood, offering your hand. "Why not? Sometimes, we need a little escape, don't we?"

Remus hesitated for a moment before accepting your hand, rising to his feet. The room became a canvas for an impromptu dance, the soft music wrapping around you like a protective cloak. In the quiet elegance of the moment, you spoke words that had lingered unspoken.

"I know my presence brings uncertainty, given Severus's reputation," you confessed, eyes searching Remus's for understanding.

He nodded, his movements mirroring yours in the dance. "It did, at first."

The admission hung in the air, but instead of casting a shadow, it became a bridge between you. Remus continued, "But I've come to see the person behind the name, the one who finds comfort in the quiet of the night, just like me."

In the midst of the war's cacophony, you and Remus found a moment of respite, a connection forged in the gentle sway of a library dance. As the mellow notes of the music enveloped the dimly lit library, you found yourself in a moment of quiet intimacy with Remus. The dance had woven a delicate connection between you, as Remus' arms encircled you, holding you close.

Feeling a surge of courage, you rested your head against Remus's chest, finding solace in the rhythmic cadence of his heartbeat. It thudded beneath your ear, a rapid tempo that betrayed a subtle undercurrent of nerves. The music continued, its gentle melody seemingly synchronized with the quickened beats of Remus's heart. Remus tightened his embrace.

The library, with its flickering candles and ancient tomes, became a sanctuary where the chaos of war retreated, leaving only two hearts finding each other.

Unbeknownst to you both, Sirius stood in the shadows, a silent observer of the scene unfolding before him. His eyes, typically sharp and filled with mischief, softened as he witnessed the unspoken bond between Remus and Severus Snape's sister. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a rare moment of warmth and understanding. As he quietly retreated back to his room, he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. Severus is gonna be so mad.

[qiu-yan]

Hello, your takes are really cool! You can completely ignore this if it's tedious to expand haha, I'm not all that clear on tumblr etiquette so -

I noticed in one of your posts you said wwx had self worth issues? Can you please expand on that if you can? Imo he's very secure about his worth but things like debts and 'Nah, I Can Deal With this' get in his way. Generally, outside the jiang family I CAN see him putting his life on line for someone else, but wouldn't that be owed to natural kindness and willingness to help rather than any issues he has in his own worth? "Better me than them" not because he thinks he deserves it but because he thinks he can handle it better?

thanks for the message!

when i said that he had self-worth issues, what i had in mind was that one post (can't find it right now) that argued that wei wuxian had sky-high self-confidence and low self-worth. what they meant by that was that, on one hand, wei wuxian is incredibly confident in his ability to accomplish anything he puts his mind to and to weather hardships that would destroy other people; on the other hand, though, he also thinks that it's acceptable that he instead of others weathers said hardships. wei wuxian repeatedly falls upon the explanation of "i'm stronger than other people, i'm more resilient than other people, i was born with a smile on my face and i don't hold grudges" to explain to himself why it is acceptable that various bad things happen to him: why he insisted he wasn't upset after someone stole his first kiss at the phoenix mountain night-hunt; why he said it was better that he instead of mianmian got burned; why his response, when he thought that madame yu was going to cut off his right hand, was to think that he could relearn the sword with his left--and why, i think, he gives his golden core to jiang cheng.

kindness and a natural inclination towards helping others can account for a good chunk of an individual's selfless behavior, but once we reach the point where someone is actively setting themself on fire to protect another person (or, shall we say, digging out their own golden core), then some other psychological motivators have come into the equation. (i find one interesting example of this to be emiya shirou from fate/stay night, whose natural instinct towards helping others is a manifestation of his survivor's guilt from the fuyuki fire).

this is less prominent in wei wuxian's interactions with other characters, since i do think that wei wuxian's moral framework is decently agent-relative - but when it comes to his interactions with the jiang siblings and jiang cheng in particular, wei wuxian's self-worth issues become apparent. due to how he was raised in the jiang household, wei wuxian seems to have internalized the idea that he, compared to jiang cheng, is more disposable. the message wei wuxian overwhelmingly hears from madame yu and also everyone else is that, while jiang cheng is the sect heir and the future of yunmeng jiang, wei wuxian is just the son of an ex-servant. that wei wuxian owes the jiang sect for taking him off the streets and raising him. that, just by being in jiang cheng's life, wei wuxian has already taken so much from him: the happiness of his mother, the approval of his father, the love of his father, the love of his sister, the stability of his home. all of this means that the direction of debt points firmly in one direction: wei wuxian, in his mind, owes the jiang.

this is reinforced by both uncle jiang and madame yu's last words to him: "protect our children." protect jiang cheng and jiang yanli. there was no "protect yourself as well." what a terrible thing to tell a kid, honestly.

but this is also acceptable, because wei wuxian is stronger than jiang cheng. so it's alright that wei wuxian be forced to take on various burdens due to what he owes jiang cheng, because wei wuxian is strong and resilient and can handle those burdens. unlike jiang cheng, who is weak and emotionally fragile and holds grudges so easily, who is so weak he must be protected at all costs, wei wuxian is strong and capable and forgiving enough to weather all hardships, and not even hold a grudge about it. so it's alright! it's okay. wei wuxian can and should shoulder everything.

i think this was the reasoning that went into the golden core transfer: wei wuxian at once loved jiang cheng and didn't want him to suffer, and also felt it was his first and foremost duty to protect jiang cheng above himself, and also felt that he was more disposable than jiang cheng, and also felt so, so guilty about his perceived role in the fall of lotus pier. i think (as i said in the post i think you're referencing) this is also part of why wei wuxian was able to leave lotus pier to protect the wen remnants without fully viewing this decision as him making a sacrifice: from his point of view, since he no longer had his golden core, he could no longer contribute to yunmeng jiang. he could no longer fulfill his purpose/duty/promise to the dead jiang parents of protecting the jiang siblings. if he wasn't useful, then jiang cheng probably didn't even want him around anymore. therefore, it was better that he leave instead of staying to cause more problems.

when it comes to the jiang family, at least, wei wuxian's sky-high self-confidence and abysmal self-worth work together to produce some uniquely unhinged outcomes.

sorry, i think i've gone off-topic. when i said that wei wuxian had self-worth issues in the original post, though, it was in relation to yunmeng jiang and the jiang family specifically, which is why my reply is focused on them. i hope i've answered your question!

[turtlelioni]

Krisnix has the potential to be so deliciously fucked up hear me out

We always talk about Kristoph's influence on Phoenix, how it drove him to be this secretive, conniving sleazebag that we see in AA4, how Phoenix had to bear this man watching his every move for seven years and put up the friendship front at least every day every week. Can we talk about how resilient that is of him I couldn't stand to suffer that in silence with all my loved ones away from me. And to pretend you're that bitch's friend without bitching about it to anyone later? self inflicted torture.

but also

Phoenix, for however long he suspected Kristoph of ruining his career, never suspected him as capable of murder. And I don't believe that he was capable, not of the hands-on kind that he commited with Zak, but Kristoph was driven to the edges of his sanity with Phoenix as well. We know that he attempted to poison Drew and Vera Misham almost at the same time he got Phoenix disbarred, and while it was vile, it was all calculated. Flawless. Clean.

Which is why the way he murdered Zak is so fascinating. Kristoph Gavin, the coolest defense in the west, the gentleman attorney, hit this man with a bottle over the head. It's messy. It's desperate. It's his last shred of composure being obliterated, because during the seven years that he stalked and manipulated Phoenix, he was under his scrutiny as well.

He knew that Phoenix suspected him to some extent. Aside from the loose ends that he hoped would be resolved in time, he knew that this man had friends with inexplicable "bring back the dead" powers and that his best friend was Miles Edgeworth, whom he most likely has gone up against. He knew that Phoenix was only playing dumb with him, because whoever could best him at poker every single time could not be a complete fool.

Phoenix drove this cold, calculated killer into a barfight murderer. He brought him to the brink of desperation in trying to cover his mess and they only knew half of the shit each other were doing during those seven years.

Just the poison as symbolism for their whole relationship, man. Phoenix trusting Kristoph at first, slowly realizing what he's really done to him, him poisoning himself in return by being around him- the drinking, the dishevelled appearance, the backroom poker playing, Kristoph becoming more paranoid, more desperate, more risky.

Phoenix was aware of the fact that the man he was hanging out with had the potential to turn him and his loved ones out on the streets, but to find out that he was also a murderer? Capable of both the insidious kind and the hands-on kind? the betrayal. the anguish. just when you build a tolerance to him, he attacks you again.

I could easily see Phoenix develop an even deeper paranoia, having all of his house and belongings tested for poison after AA4.

I could see it actually being there.

[defense-slenderman]

Call me phoenix wright the way I actually cannot stop staring st miles edgeworth andnthinking 'wowowowo hes so cool and strong and it's so cool how he's resilient to higher ups despite the entire law system being corrupt and littered with darkness, especially since the guilt of his past actions haunting him!!'

[its-avalon-08]

charles leclerc x reader part6

themes

enemies to lovers redbull v/s ferrari female driver overprotective max and checo spice maybe??

Chapter 6 - Flames and Unsaid scars

It was race day and the drivers were driving better than ever. Y/N in a particularly daring turn was pushing her car to the limits. The desert sun beat down on Las Vegas, but the heat paled in comparison to the inferno raging on the track. Y/N, a comet of silver and blue, was locked in a fierce duel with George Russell for third place. They touched wheels, a sickening screech ripping through the air, before Y/N's car lurched, spun out of control, and slammed into the barrier.

Flames erupted from the sleek car and the track went silent. Whizzing cars were passing by as the fire grew in size.

Panic erupted in the Red Bull garage. Christian Horner's face drained of color as he hammered the radio button. "Y/N, Y/N, respond! Are you okay?" "IS Y/N OKAY? CHRISTIAN IS SHE OKAY?" Max yelled into his radio. Checo whispered a prayer as he tried to contact his race radio.

Static. A chilling, deafening silence. Max and Checo, still in the race, wrestled with their emotions, their focus torn between the track and the unfolding drama.

In the Ferrari garage, the air hung thick with dread. In his own whizzing car at P2, Charles, his heart pounding like a trapped bird, clutched his radio, his voice trembling with desperation. "Is she okay? IS SHE ALIVE DAMN IT SOMEONE ANSWER ME."

Then, from the fiery wreckage, a miracle. A figure, shrouded in flames, emerged. It was Y/N, her helmet cracked and singed, her racing suit smoldering. But she stood, defiant against the inferno, a phoenix rising from the ashes.

For a moment, the entire race froze. Drivers and mechanics alike gaped in stunned disbelief. Then, a collective gasp broke the silence as Y/N, overwhelmed by the smoke and heat, stumbled and fell. Charles stopped his car with sudden brakes and leaped out.

Medical personnel, already on the scene, swarmed her. Charles, was the first to reach her. He knelt beside her, hands shaking as he checked for injuries.

"Y/N, Y/N, can you hear me?" he pleaded, his voice hoarse with fear.

Y/N, her vision blurry through the cracked visor, met his gaze. Her lips, cracked and dry, formed a weak smile. "Charl…es," she rasped, her voice barely audible. "I'm… okay."

Relief flooded Charles' face, washing away the fear that had gripped him. He gently touched her cheek, his fingers tracing the soot and grime. "Don't you ever do that again," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/N, her eyelids fluttering, squeezed his hand. "Promise me… you won't… give up… on me," she whispered, her voice fading.

Charles, tears welling up in his eyes, leaned down and kissed her forehead, a silent vow etched in the desert heat. "Never," he murmured, his voice raw. "Never, Y/N."

As the medics loaded her onto the stretcher, Charles remained beside her, his hand clasped in hers. He watched as she disappeared into the ambulance, a silent promise hanging heavy in the air: he would protect her, no matter the cost.

The race resumed, but it was a hollow victory. The cheers of the crowd seemed muted, the energy drained from the air. For everyone, the image of Y/N emerging from the flames, a phoenix rising from the ashes, would forever be etched in their memories. It was a testament to her resilience, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, hope can flicker, defiant and bright.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the desert sky in fiery hues, Charles knew one thing for sure: this wasn't the end. It was just the beginning. The beginning of a new chapter, a journey forged in fire and tempered by a love as fierce as the flames that had almost consumed Y/N, and as unyielding as the woman herself.

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

Eight days post-crash, the air in Monaco crackled with unspoken tensions. Max, ever the fierce protector, had transformed into a mother hen, hovering around Y/N like a guardian angel with a clipboard of rules. Charles, on the other hand, had retreated into a shell of silence, haunted by the echoes of his own past and the near-death experience that mirrored his own childhood trauma. They had not spoken since the hospital, too afraid to recognize their feelings.

Y/N, though physically recovering, bore the invisible scars of the incident. A jagged line, a brutal testament to the fire, stretched across her stomach, hidden beneath layers of clothing. This secret weapon, nestled against her inner strength, was the one thing stopping her from rejoining the grid. For Y/N, her scars weren't just marks of a past battle; they were a potential disqualifier, a threat to her dream.

One sun-drenched afternoon, a pool party at Max's villa served as a fragile truce between the Red Bull and Ferrari camps. Laughter rang out, punctuated by the clinking of ice against glass. But beneath the veneer of merriment, Y/N felt isolated, adrift in a sea of carefree faces.

That's when she crossed paths with Charles. He stood by the pool, his eyes shadowed, a stark contrast to the vibrant world around him. Their gazes met, a silent conversation unfolding in the space between them. It was then, as the sun glinted off the water, that Y/N noticed a flicker of recognition in his eyes, a reflection of the shared trauma that bound them.

With a silent plea, Y/N excused herself and led Charles away from the crowd. They settled under a secluded palm tree, the breeze whispering secrets in their ears. The air buzzed with unspoken fears and a mutual understanding that words couldn't quite capture.

As Y/N hesitantly lifted her shirt, revealing the angry red scar to the light, Charles' breath hitched. He saw not just the burn mark, but a warrior's badge, a symbol of the storm she had weathered. His eyes met hers, filled with a mixture of admiration and pain.

"Don't tell anyone," Y/N pleaded, her voice barely a whisper. "Not Max, not Checo, not anyone."

Charles nodded, his heart heavy with empathy. He understood the fear, the desperation to reclaim her life on the track. He, too, bore invisible scars, reminders of a battle fought and won.

He reached for the first-aid kit on the table, his movements gentle, almost reverent. As he applied the cooling ointment, his touch spoke volumes. It was a silent conversation, a language of shared pain and unspoken promises.

"How are you now?" Charles muttered. "Doing alright Charlie boy, you don't have to worry about me" Y/N replied with a weak smile. "Right, I don't have to worry about you when you have a fucking cut across your stomach." He replied, eyes burning with anger and concern.

Y/N's gaze softened as she said "Charles, I just need a few days to recover and if Max or Checo find out, they won't let me practice. I need to win because. I just need to." "I almost lost you cherie. I almost lost you and I don't even know what you are to me. I wont tell Checo or Max anything, but you best believe I'll be around to make sure you dont die again." Charles retorted with a shaky voice.

In that moment, under the dappled shade of the palm tree, their rivalry, their animosity, it all faded away. There was only this, this connection forged in fire, this understanding that transcended words. Y/N, leaning into his touch, found solace in his silent support, a promise of unwavering belief nestled against her wound

And as the shadows stretched long and the sun dipped below the horizon, a new chapter began. It was a chapter written in unspoken fears and quiet promises, a chapter where scars, both visible and invisible, became not reminders of battles lost, but symbols of battles fought together. The storm had passed, leaving behind a fragile trust, a bond forged in the crucible of their shared vulnerability. And on the racetrack of their lives, it was a bond that held the promise of healing, of victory, and ultimately, of love.

[l0serloki]

If you’re not too busy- would it be cool if I requested how the Val agents (Sova, Chamber, Cypher, Phoenix, Breach, and Harbor if you write for him- and anyone else you wanna add) reacting to the reader giving them the silent treatment!

Silence!

(Chamber, Yoru, Phoenix, Cypher, Breach, Harbor)

CW : GN!Reader, tiny cut (Yoru), drinking (Breach)

A/N : I’m blind and also haven’t been to bed so I didn’t even notice that you asked for Sova too.. I’m so sorry 😭

Chamber :

He’s going to pretend not to notice for a while. You want to play? Let's play.

“What is the benefit of ignoring me, my love? You are just making us both suffer”

He will buy you your favorite foods/something you’ve mentioned to “get in good graces”. He tries his best..

The tension in the air only elevated as you turned in your seat. It was late at night and you were working to repair some gear that broke in the field. Your boyfriend, Chamber, just happened to be working on his guns as well. You had started a little challenge to see how he would react to silent treatment after he ignored you one night. He was more resilient than he seemed, going a full day of basking in the awkward silence. The clicking of metal was the only sound breaking the void of nothingness.

“Y/N, if you are going to continue doing this I think I will lose my mind. I simply don’t know what to do anymore. Why do you insist on making both of us suffer?” Chamber’s voice cracked as his breath tickled your neck. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, tingles going down your flesh. When did he get this close? He was right.. this was getting to be too much.

“You’re right. Maybe I wanted to see you suffer a bit though.” You smirked as you turned to the man, finger tracing his soft skin. His chestnut hues widened at the sound of your voice, leaning into your warm touch.

“Your voice is music to my ears, mon amour.”

Yoru :

He’ll get moody. He probably won’t talk to you!

“Are you done being childish? Good. I hope you learned your lesson.”

If he notices you’re just teasing him.. he will have revenge.

Nothing bad, just him teasing you in front of the other agents or giving you a taste of your own medicine.

What had started as a little game to push Yoru’s buttons turned into much more. The subtle touches and the angered silence added a dark atmosphere to each day. His snide coughs and taps of his feet put you on edge. You knew that you would end up cracking before the man got out of his stubborn views.

Your fingers knocked against his comb, the metal cutting open your thumb. You hissed at the pain, bringing the cut up to your lips.

“Why are you trying to mess with my knife? Are you okay? Done being childish?” Yoru yanked your hand, eyes softening at the sight of you hurt. You relaxed at his touch, glad to have your snarky boyfriend back.

“Yeah.. I love you.”

“Whatever.. Love you too.”

Phoenix :

He will BEG for attention.

“Darling.. What did I do wrong?! Cmon.. Just tell me already!”

He’s so annoyed.. He leans in for a kiss and you move out of the way. He tries to talk to you and you pretend not to hear him. The audacity!

You’ll end up having to listen to him because he’s the type that will make you feel guilty.. he’s a sweetheart.

Phoenix had not shut up the whole ride back from the mission. You could only roll your eyes as you shuffled into your shared room, ignoring his words.

“Babe.. Are you even listening?” Phoenix’s voice raised an octave, watching as you climbed into bed. Your fingers reached for the bedside light, turning it off. Not even a second later, your personal heater hopped into bed behind you. His arms encompassed your form making it hard to get away.

“I don’t appreciate you ignoring me all day. I’m letting you know now that you aren’t moving from this bed till I get attention.. You hear that?” You could practically hear his smirk. You snorted at the remark and hummed.

“Yeah yeah, whatever dork. Go to bed.”

Cypher :

He will think it’s funny for a bit. You think this is a silly game? He does too.

The awkward glances and silence shared between you two is just a ticking bomb. One of you is seeing who will crack first. (Spoiler, it’s you.)

Cypher can be silent for days on end. He can keep busy with work or just sit and stay in his head..

“My my, look who actually has a voice! I thought you had lost it.”

When you had thought of ignoring Cypher it seemed funny. Well, that was days ago and it was no longer that humorous anymore.. He had noticed your little ‘challenge’ and joined, turning the whole thing into a battle. You wracked your brain with any kind of way to get him to crack first - to no avail. You sighed, hand brushing against your face in disappointment. You turned to the side to peer at your boyfriend. The blanket covered his legs, his nimble fingers typing away at his computer. You were desperate for his attention at this point, not caring much about winning.

A small noise came out of your throat causing his fingers to stop.

“Cypher..” You groaned and the man’s mouth widened in a grin.

“Oh dear, look who is crawling back.. Come here then, little bug.”

Breach :

He will roll his eyes at the antics for the first five minutes.. then he’s done.

“Okay babe.. Funny joke. It’s time to talk back now.”

He can and will be the loudest person ever/push all of your buttons. That only annoys you more and he quickly notices.

He ends up apologizing for whatever he did, begging you to be back to normal. You could imagine the sigh of relief when you laugh and say you were trying to get on his nerves.

“Don’t EVER do that again.. I thought I was going crazy.”

Breach and you were sat at the kitchen counter drinking with some of the other agents. He had already been on his fourth beer and spewing nonsense into your ear. You learned to ignore him as he got like this. He didn’t notice most of the time anyways.

“I told him that I could practically break anything.. Babe, hello? Are you even listening to me?” Breach’s voice continued to drone on as you tuned out. You were only brought back to the real world as he shook you.

“I may be drunk but it’s not that funny to ignore me. You sure you’re okay?” His eyebrow raised and you smiled.

“Yeah, sorry! Just out of it. Let's get you to bed.”

“Good idea, sweet thing.”

Harbor :

He’s reasonable and notices your silence! He backs off and gives you a day to yourself. After all, everyone needs time for themselves.

He checks in and sets food down for you when he sees you. He’s more just worried for your health.

You’ll have to tell him it’s a joke because he mostly just dotes on you and gives you worried glances.

“I thought you were having a really tough time! Don’t do that again, honey.”

You were curious as to how your boyfriend would respond to you being silent but that had more turned into guilt. He had given you space, understanding the need to be alone. Your heart melted when you woke up to water and some snacks and even when he came in to give you a kiss.

Making your way to the training room, you opened the doors. You snuck up behind the man, arms wrapping around his torso in a sneak-hug. Harbor grunted, surprised by the sudden intrusion.

“You are feeling better!” He smiled, eyes gleaming as he stared down.

“You’re too sweet for your own good. I just wanted to see how you’d react to the silent treatment. I’m sorry.” Your eyes softened. He only laughed, hand patting your head.

“Good. I’m glad nothing is seriously wrong, little wave.”

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

In Buck tattoo artist, what tattoo does the reader want to cover

Bucky set up his room and exhaled slowly. Steadying himself to focus in. The picture of the tattoo he was covering. The heavy lines and busted work of the anchor.

Traditional work gone wrong. So wrong.

The placement- the whole thing was just wrong. But this Phoenix with the flames and embers. And the color and shading in the wings. It suited you.

During the consultation, you were- hard to describe. But he knew strength and resilience when he saw it. You didn't even flinch at his prosthetic. You focused on his portfolio. On what he was best at and how he could make a piece of art you could wear and be proud of.

He wanted to do this justice.

"Ready for today?" Nat asked leaning on the doorway.

"I think so," he said nodding. "Not sure how well she'll sit but-"

"If she can sit through that," Nat said nodding to the scratcher work on the table, "She'll be able to sit through you. You're not as heavy handed as Clint-"

"Hey!" Clint protested.

"Just saying," Nat said shrugging, taking a sip from her coffee mug.

"She know she's getting a discount?" Clint asked, surveying the work.

Bucky felt his cheeks heat and he shook his head, "No I uh- she's pretty broke and I-"

"Aww. Bucky and his client sitting in a tree," Cling said breaking off.

"It's not like that."

"Yeah yeah," he snorted. "Don't have a cash bar at the wedding."

[hollowed-theory-hall]

this is probably stupid to ask, but do you like snape? or the marauders? there's always fanwars happening between marauders stans and snape stans. tbh i'm just curious where you stand (i like both, and prefer their canon selves rather than the fanon which is btw really stupid. they feminized sirius so much its not even sirius anymore.) what made you like snape? if you do, or are you neutral with him? just for a change of question since i always ask about harry.

Thanks for the ask! I don't think it's stupid.

I prefer their canon counterparts as well, the Marauders fanon has so little to do with canon I can hardly call the characters by the same name. They just aren't the same characters. Anyway, I'm gonna try and summarise my highly subjective opinions about them here.

1. Sirius Black

He's my second most favorite character and my favorite among the characters you mentioned. I wrote about him a lot on this blog, so I don't really feel the need to write more.

But, he's smart, resilient, and goofy on occasion. His love for Harry is one of my favorite aspects of his character because he loves Harry so much. And he has his flaws. He can be cruel, cold, and arrogant and I wouldn't like him as much if he wasn't visibly a member of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black regardless of how much he tried to get away from his legacy. I love how messy his feelings about his family are. He left Regulus' room as it was, even though the rest of the house got cleaned by the Order. He stayed in his mother's bedroom even when all the conversations he had with her portrait were in screams. I love his distrust in Dumbledore after everything he's been through and how he chooses to remain for Harry's sake — he's willing to do anything for Harry's sake.

I just truly love Sirius.

2. Severus Snape

He's the next on this list because I do like Snape, he's not a character I'm passionate about, but I like him. I think he shouldn't be a teacher (I think he hates being a teacher more than his students hate him teaching them) but he's a talented potion maker and wizard. And he is a very entertaining character, even without knowing everything about him.

But what really makes me like Snape is that I find him interesting. I think his psychology is interesting, as is his dynamic with Lily, Dumbledore, and Voldemort. Snape is a fascinating character to study from a lot of angles, and even as a reader, there is quite a bit that's up in the air about him because he's that good at being a spy and not giving us anything.

The other major thing I like about him is his competence as a spy and wizard. If there's one thing I love in my fictional characters — it's competence (and intelligence). I often joke with my irl friends that Snape is the only competent Death Eater and the only competent member of the Order of the Phoenix. We then joke that if we were in his shoes, surrounded by a lot of people who don't actually do anything and we're the only ones affecting this war from both sides, we'd probably be bitter too.

A little note that seems overlooked about Snape often in the fandom, in general, is how we think, "Oh, he's so great at Occlumancy and not being emotional" — that's not strictly true. When it comes to Lily or the Marauders all his well-crafted Occlumancy kinda goes out the window. In books 3 and 5 he throws actual temper tantrums about Sirius Black. Like, I feel Snape, deep down is actually super not well adjusted and is an emotionally unstable mess, but he learned to pretend otherwise. Basically, all the cold facade is just that — a facade. He isn't really that stoic.

3. James Potter

I'm weird about James. Like, he's almost a nonentity and what we do hear about him is either negative or comes from biased sources.

I do tend to give him more of the benefit of the doubt than a lot of other fans who prefer canon James do. He was awful when he was younger, he was a bully and he assaulted Snape and there is no excuse for his actions. That being said, I can believe he changed. War changes you and you'd be hard-pressed to find a 21-year-old who isn't ashamed of a lot of what they did or said when they were 15. And yes, some of what James did is definitely more extreme than that of the average person, but it isn't that extreme compared to the environment he grew up in. Remus tells Harry everyone was casting Levicorpous on each other in the halls. I'm not saying any of the bullying is okay, I'm just saying it probably seemed normal to him and this is important context. Same as I don't think Snape is abusive towards students when put in the context of their culture and environment where, until recently, they caned students (Snape actually seems very averse to corporeal punishment. He also likely treats Harry very different than he does literally any other student, but this is the James section).

I just, like the idea of James changing for the better. I'd like to think he did. That life and war and loss taught him something.

4. Peter Pettigrew

Probably an unpopular opinion, but I like Pettigrew more than Lupin. He's awful, he's pathetic, he's a cowardly rat man and I find his sniveling funny. Whenever I try to think of a what-if scenario in my head, Pettigrew is somehow the key to it. Because he's a character that affects so much of the plot in some incredibly crucial moments — he betrayed James and Lily, he resurrected the Dark Lord, and later, he allows Harry's survival. Idk, I just find his situation and just how pathetic he could get fascinating. It's, like, there is no rock bottom for this guy, he keeps digging. Like, you can't get more pathetic than living as a rat for 12 years when you could've moved to Argentina or something.

And at the same time, he clearly has some residual care for Harry for his father's friendship. He has so many opportunities to kill Harry or kidnap him when he runs away to join Voldemort — but he doesn't. Even after Sirius escapes and he knows his time is up, he still leaves Harry alive. When he is supposed to kill him in book 7, he doesn't, he again lets him go and pays with his own life for it. Like, again, idk, it's just how I feel.

5. Remus Lupin

I know I placed Lupin last, and it's because I don't personally like him that much. Pretty sure this is a little controversial, but I don't really like book Lupin, he does not vibe with me, at all. (Though I'd choose book Lupin over Marauders fandom Lupin every time)

Like, it bothers me that he doesn't actually care about Harry (the only one on the list who willingly physically harmed Harry, in a moment of anger, but still). It was Harry who asked to be taught the Patronus, if it was up to Remus, he wouldn't be involved in Harry's life at all. He tried to run on his wife when she got pregnant because he was scared. Like, Petttigrew is given shit for being a cowardly Gryffindor, but, look, you need some guts to betray your friends, so I'd argue Remus is the most cowardly Marauder (it's easy to be brave when you don't care for your own life).

But, all of this is part of his character and the story wouldn't be what it is if Remus bothered to get his head out of his own ass and check up on Harry. How he behaves makes him my personal least favorite Marauder, but I want Lupin to be a cowardly guy who runs away from attachment and responsibility because he doesn't trust himself with anything (especially not anything good). He's not cool, or suave, and he's desperate for people to like him but without actually knowing him because he thinks that if they do they'd run away screaming like he wants to run from himself. Honestly, I don't get why the Mauraders fandom made James the people-pleaser when Remus Lupin is right there always telling people what they want to hear so they'd like him.

Again, these are all my own personal subjective opinions, but yeah.