🍒 ⋆ 🍑 🎀 𝐻𝑒𝓎, 𝒜𝓁𝒶𝓇𝓌𝓎𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓈❣ 🎀 🍑 ⋆ 🍒
Welcome to the Masterlist of all my Formula 1-inspired stories, a cozy little home for every chapter I’ve written and will write. From unexpected pregnancies to emotional slow-burns, you’ll find them all here neatly organized.
This post will be updated regularly, so feel free to check back often or bookmark it if you'd like. 💭
Thank you, truly, for every read, reblog, comment, like, share, or whisper in the tags. Your support means the world to me. You keep this tiny universe of mine alive. 🌙
With all my love, me 🫶
✨ Special thanks to Firefly Graphics for the gorgeous dividers I’ve used in every post. I’ve been using them since I started, and they’ve truly made my stories feel complete. Thank you for creating such beautiful, free resources. 💗
Okay I feel like I'm complaining a lot lately and I'm sorry, I don't want to be like this but I just don't get it.
I received a comment on one of my stories that I hadn't updated in months. And the comment was very motivating, short but they let me know just how much they like the story and I actually ended up writing a new chapter within the next week.
No reaction on the new chapter and I'm just sitting here not getting it.
I don't know. Maybe I'll get another comment when it once again takes me months to update the story?
But why not comment when you read the chapter? I mean usually my muse decides which story to work on but there are occassions I want to write but don't know on which story and in that case I usually go by popularity of the story. The less comments a story gets the less likely it is that I force myself to sit down and work on it.
I don't know. I just don't get it. And it makes me kinda sad. And it's not like we're talking about indepth paragarphs of comments here, I get that those take time and need to be done when you have the time. I get that, I write those comments on stories and it takes a lot of time and often at least one reread of the chapter.
I'm talking about the "great story, liked the new chapter can't wait for the next one" comments. Which I love and appreciate just as much. I just like reactions and to me a kudos isn't much of a reaction. It's a "this story's alright and I'll read it but it's not good enough to use words to tell the author how I feel about it." And that might be unfair but it's just how I feel.
Now I'm wondering if I'm the only one who feels that way about kudos. Let me know your thoughts on them.
I guess my rant is done and I'm going to try and get my as out of the self-pity zone it is currently in and into doing something productive.
Nestled amongst tall and twisting trees was a long carriage road. It made its way through a gently curving path that offered views of immaculately maintained grounds of brilliantly cut hedge figures and masterfully sculpted statues. When the path finally did open completely, it would be to reveal Tavish Manor. It was a wonder to behold, artistic in its design, sacred in its placement of rooms, and the air around the manor was eerily still. No sounds of birds or wildlife seemed to pollute the air. Gardens of seemingly endless flowers bloomed year-round, roses and many other blooms exploded in a rainbow of colors. To the outside world, it was a picturesque home.
To Countess Hestia Tavish, it was a well-decorated cage. She had inherited so much when her father had died and sadly when her mother perished of delicate self-decoration with a blade. Fortune, land, and title all transferred to Hestia, the only child and sole heir. Really it was a guess that her father was dead, he’d simply vanished one day and perhaps that betrayal had been what drove her mother mad? Not that it really mattered, it was all Hestia’s and she had her own battles to deal with.
Such wealth, power, and well...her mother had passed on her beauty as well...Hestia dealt with circling wolves from all corners of her day to day life. Suitors claiming protection and not a chain of servitude. The Crown even urged her to accept, some low toady urging caution in solitude.
In fact, one such letter now lay burning in the fireplace, the sudden surge of fuel to the fire making the flames spark to life and illuminated the darkest corners in the study. Hestia sat upon her father’s desk, a glass of wine in one hand while the other rested upon the desk, fingers splayed and tapping to some unheard rhythm.
Hestia Tavish took on certain traits from both her parents. Dark obsidian hair from her mother and father, unnaturally green eyes with flecks of gold from her father, and well...her full lips that ticked up into a less than amused smile had come solely from her mother. She wore, at the moment at least, a black gown that hugged her form in a way that no priest of the light would approve of. In the adjacent room was the sound of chamber music, a slow and grim waltz playing through the air.
She entertained the nobles with their requests, every now and then it garnered her a month or so of peace before the next demands came in the form of tactfully written invitations. Pushing away from the desk she moved into the room, her face turning mask-like as she dawned a forced smile and played hostess.
Faint ticks filled the air as Kat stared down at the pocket watch in her hand. Less than twenty-four hours until she’d be on vacation, not even sure if Victoria was going to show, but she held out hope. This was something that was supposed to bring her ease and relaxation, yet there was a slight bit of stress still in the back of her mind. She hasn’t been away from the Unit for a full week before, to be disconnected from the on goings of the City. While she knew the Unit was in good hands, she still stressed a bit. She had learned to know nothing but this life.
With a soft sigh she slid the golden watch back into her pocket, staring ahead at the wall in her office that was covered in papers, pictures and reports. There were various pins of different colors stuck across the collage of papers and maps, some connected by corresponding colored string. Kat idly cracked her knuckles as her gaze drifted over each pin, following each thread. There was a sudden knock at her door, the first meeting before she left.
“It’s open.” She called out, keeping her gaze on the wall. She knew who it was, her Head of Intelligence.
(Long read below the cut. Snippets and small details of the inner workings.)
A slight smirk touched Xylia’s lips as she slid into the office and caught the collage upon the wall. “I see you’ve been decorating. Starting to look like my office in here.” She teased, moving over to lean against the desk beside the Director. “So what am I looking at?”
“A various collection of observations and reports I’ve seen. Things are gettin’ interestin’. Lots of names are overlappin’ in reports, the same people turnin’ up here and there when watchin’ others. Either sumone is pullin’ strings or things are linin’ up.” Kat moved to place a finger on the pin stuck into a map of the Blasted Lands. “There are several rumors that float around the Draconis name. I’ve watched her a bit, she’s an interestin’ woman to say the least. Surely ya’ve seen the flyers of her lookin’ fer sumone to train her? I pitty who she might end up with, she might just become sumone’s play thing. But-” The Director’s slender digit moved from the pin and followed the thread to another pin, lodged in a map of Old Town. “I over heard a conversation between her and Recke Stoutmantle. Talkin’ of ships and such. But why I wonder? Either way, it makes a possible connection between her and those at the Tea House. A while back I wus watchin’ a woman who said she lived in it, as strange as it is. She sat on the street with an elf talkin’ about railin’ drugs. Perhaps we can exploit that and see if she talks?”
“We have someone on payroll who might have answers as well. I’ll reach out and see what I can come up with. That particular group is coming up in a lot of reports, even if it’s just in passing. Something to keep and eye on, but we won’t engage without orders.” Xylia motioned to another pin, stuck into the Vale on a map of Pandaria. “That who I think it is?”
“Yes. Susan Gampre. I’ve had a few run-ins with her. She’s a bit of an...acquired taste. Pinkly seems to know her a bit though. For now she is a back burner, her name is scare in out papers compared to others and that date auction she hosted brought out some rather interstin’ folks. Still- we are blind and deaf in comparison to other operations. Let’s try to fix that, yes?”
“Of course. I’ll see who I can wrangle, almost everyone has a price tag these days.” Xylia’s fingers drummed on the side of the desk as her gaze drifted across the wall, taking in all the reports and pictures stuck up on the multiple maps of the lands. Eventually her eyes fixated on a black pin stuck in the northern reaches of the kingdom. “I see he has a pin now. He either pissed ya off or wanted something ya found very interesting.”
Kat chuckled as she paced in front of the wall, stopping so the pin was level with her eyes. “Warlund wanted the same as several others. An understandin’, a deal, a partnership. Woteva ya’ want to call it.” She let out a low hum as her amber gaze moved across a few files. “I’ll play nice fer now, but the only reason he has any sort of political clout right now is because of Josetta. I don’ doubt she’s a pawn in wot eva game he wants, or is, playin’.” Kat turned to return to her desk, sucking her teeth quietly.
Xylia chuckled softly as she pushed away from the desk. “I know what ya be thinking, Kat. I'll get a plan in place. At least Farah isn’t a factor anymore, right?” She moved across the office to the door, looking back to the Dirctor before taking her leave. “I'm sure she'll turn up. Focus on ya vacation, not all this." She nods to the wall before exiting. "Consider it done, don't worry about it.”
A few hours passed, Kat moved about her office sorting and reviewing various files and reports. She set aside the few that had gone cold or were no longer relevant. Her pen scratching and scribbling across a few files, making notes and alterations here and there as she waited for her Chief of Staff.
Jess never bothered to knock, just opening the door wide and sauntering right in, bottle of rum in hand. The bottle gave a solid thud as it was set down on the desktop, the officer dropping down into the seat opposite the Director. “About time you took a vacation, you’ve been lookin' stressed as hell for the last month or two.” She eyed the collage of pins and papers on the wall before sitting up a bit to look at the files on the desk. “So what we got?”
Kat gave a small smirk at the bottle on her desk, though she preferred whiskey she wouldn’t complain, pushing her seat back a bit to collect a pair of glasses. “A few things. Our pool of competent agents is startin’ to lack again.” She slid back to the desk and motioned to the pile of files. “They need refresher courses, detailed trainin’, and a few specializations across the board. Sum of them are too eager just to stab shit and a few are nothin’ but egos and hot air. That needs correction.” Kat plucked the bottle from her desk and began to pour each glass.
Jess scoffed as she reached out for her glass, taking a healthy swig. “Well maybe if it wasn’t like runnin' a daycare for adults that half the time jus' want to stand around and flirt, they could actually get things done. That said, there are a couple in the group who are quiet and actually focus, I’ll start with them.”
Kat gave a small nod as she pushed the personnel files she had selected across her desk. “There are three in mind right now who have promisin’ potential. As for the rest? We’ll wait and see, sum of them are too reckless but that’s just the nature of the beast. Now, there is a woman, Lestia Ferth. I sent her to get with Agent Welgarde, to see if she’s as skilled as she claims to be. Keep an eye on that. Agent Sutton- is in a complicated position right now. I don’t trust the elf I’ve seen her lingerin’ with. Shorten her leash if we must, I don’t need anymore bodies, especially our own operatives.”
Jess just stared blankly from behind her glass as she took a drink. “Another woman? Figures. You know we could really do with more men around here.” She let the glass rest in her lap for a moment, collecting the files offered to her. “Fine. I’ll get to it.”
“Good. Now, Operation Surge.” Kat pointed to the map of Uldum, a few small blue pins were stuck around the desert zone, taking a sip from her glass. “I believe I got everythin’ in order, but we aren’ equip or built to go on an expedition. Word through the grapevine is that Leora went off to create her own group, this might be a bit more up her alley. She can keep woteva she finds in the vault, we are only after the one thing. Reach out and see.” Kat eyed the wall a moment before taking a large gulp of the rum, settling back in her seat and crossing one leg over the other. “We will start the Reforge Initiative when I return.”
The med bay was quiet, still a bit of a mess from the excitement Saelkath had caused the other day. Kat’s amber gaze moved across the various shelves and the items that lined them, making mental notes as she approach Andie’s office. The Head of Medical was sometimes hard to pin down, often out and about in the city and socializing at the local taverns.
The officer door was already propped open, Kat gave it a single knock as she stepped inside, a few papers in hand that she held up briefly as she addressed the Draenei. “Andie. I got the requisitions to restock our supplies all approved fer ya’. I also added some different medications, a few that are non-habit formin’ so we can avoid any possible problems in the future. I’ve also looked over a few of the medical reports, let’s have the few that were injured in the...complication the other night double checked. I don’ need anyone runnin’ around with lingerin’ void energies in them.” She dropped the signed and approved forms onto the desk.
Andie's gaze traveled from the stack of papers dropped on the desk up to the Unit Director, "All medication is habit forming if ya try hard enough!” she chortled through a grin. She absentmindedly thumbed through a couple of the signed papers, "...and I think eliminating void tainted members is about as futile as trying to outlaw amber colored eyes..."
Kat just rolled her eyes at that. “Ya’ know wot I mean, Andie. There is a difference between bein’ tainted and usin’ the magic.” She turned to take her leave. “And don’ let people form a habit, we don’ need doped up operatives runnin’ amok.”
Only twelve hours left and one meeting to go. Kat drummed her fingers idly on her desk, waiting for her Deputy Director, peering at the wall that housed the collection of pins and threads. So many of each, various colors, stretching all over. Yet there was no clear web nor pattern formed. Perhaps it was all strange coincidences but Kat remained doubtful it was so.
There were a few short knocks as Jo entered the office space, the redhead closing the door behind her as she perked a brow. "I 'alf expected ya to bail on yer vacation plans, 'Awke. Are we goin' to discuss Cell Zero before ya go?" The redhead moved to settle into one of the chairs across form Kat's desk, making herself comfortable.
“No. We are no’.” Kat stated pointedly as she turned away from the wall to face her desk proper. “Nor do I want to hear any arguemen’ ya’ surely have. We can discuss it when I get back. Wot I do want to discuss is the few variables that have recently cropped up. One bein’ this Agent ‘Shadow’. Since Agent Cogwheel’s demise-” She tapped the purple stone around her neck. The gnome would likely take the chance to implant the image of a little gnomish middle finger in Kat’s mind’s eye. “-I haven’ seen any sign of that Unit. Keep a close eye and ear on that one, if there are other assets we can scoop up then we might as well.”
A snort escaped the Deputy Director, but she simply nodded her head. "Aye, I've got eyes an' ears out fer any more of 'em that migh' pop up. No sense in good material goin' to waste."
“Mhm. As for our other friends who have recently shown up and found me. The Warden, Elyza, has a bit of a complicated history.” Kat tossed the former commander’s file across her desk to Jo. “Valuable though. Good for intel and a possible Kalimdor connection. Just be cautious. I’m no’ entirely sure where her morals land these days and we don’ need the complication of her raiding the Labs. The other one, the Sparklesprocket gnome. She’s good at wot she does and she’ll help when needed. Just limit wot she sees- I don’ fully trust the company she frequents.” Kat rolls one shoulder as she leans back in her seat. “Well, more like the company her company keeps.”
Jo reached across and picked up the file, opening it and leafing through the information they had on The Warden. She nodded along as Kat continued to talk, taking it in as her eyes scanned the pages. "Nice to 'ave Kalimdor connections. An' I'll keep 'er out of the Labs." Shutting the folder, the redhead lifted her eyes, studying Kat. "An' wot company is she apart of again?" She had seen the Gnome in the building the other day, but had kept her questions quiet for the moment.
Kat just waved a hand dismissively. “No’ important. The person I don’ want to deal with is more of a distant connection anyways. Friend of a friend sort of deal. Don’ worry too much about it.” She clears her throat as she sits up a bit. “There are just a few things to tighten up here and there, a couple of lose ends and straggler operatives to rope in. OH! And I have an elf trapped in a cave up north, make sure Agent Sutton feeds her at least once a day.”
"An elf. Trapped in a cave up north." She blinked several times. "Is that all yer goin' to tell me about it?" She leaned back in the chair, the folder sitting closed in her lap. "Does it 'ave anythin' to do with the letter ya received the other day?"
Kat shook her head and slid a second folder over. “No, completely differen’ actually. Just don’ worry about it too much, I’m handlin’ it. When I get back we can discuss Project Exodus and the Lazarus Project. Fhay’lin already delivered the files on them to your office.”
"Alrigh'. If that's all, then I guess I'll wish ya a 'appy trip. Rest well an' I'll try to keep them all in line while yer gone." She gave a wry grin before pushing herself to her feet, tucking the folder under her arm. "Let me know when ya get back? I'm afraid I'll worry about ya until I 'ear from ya once ya return." She shrugged and shifted, taking several steps back toward the door.
Kat snorted with a slight grin. “Yeah, I’m sure everyone will know when I get back...”
Everything was packed and ready to go. Kat was sitting on the edge of her bed just staring at the luggage, several things running through her mind. Only a few hours left.
Hide...run away and hide. That was the only option that her dear brother could offer to them? Siida refused to believe that was the only choice. She had seen her students, her charges turned to little more than visceral wallpaper and those that remained were now likely enslaved or worse.
It wouldn’t stand...it couldn’t stand.
The Matron of The Nine refused to give up. She’d always been the voice of hope, but now it seemed she would have to wield both a salve for healing and a blade for vengeance. Having nearly lost all that she loved, the little flower was preparing to grow thorns.
If Lazarius was not willing to stand and fight...Siida knew she had other realms to call upon...and at this moment, the cost of such help sounded reasonable.
'I don't know, it's . . . ugh, I'm so tired of this, Squiddles. He just keeps . . . he's just so petulant. I'm so tired of coaxing it out of him, I'm sick to death of it. I hate it when he does it. I hate it! All I ever want to do when I'm around him is . . . DO SOMETHING -- anything, anything at all, just move something --, but he never lets me. I can't make him behave, I can't seem to get him to behave, even though I know exactly what to do if only I had my chance. And when I do have my chance, I don't do it. I keep getting so attached. I can't seem to stop . . . .'
She is shaking her head, with that tormented inward look I am now familiar with, the look which reveals to me how helplessly near the surface of her mind is the great dark ocean which might unleash the mind-tweaking torrents I fear above all things.
'Fine,' she says. 'That's what I thought. Now would you like to talk about something else?'
'No,' I tell her. 'I'd rather not.'
'Fine,' she says. 'So, how are you feeling today?'
I take a deep breath. I am steeling myself to speak again.
'Dear reader,' I say, 'I'm going to ask you to give something a chance. Contemplate an entire life. Put it all before you and think about it: a history, beginning to end, the history of a person in whom you have an interest. Imagine it from the inside, imagine it as he might have imagined it: you, as it were, writing your memoirs. Everything that happened, everything that you remember, all the little details you'd never imagined would be important.'
'I'd rather not,' she says.
'I'm not asking you to imagine everything. I'm only asking you to imagine one thing. Imagine, like, one moment, any moment. Just take it. Not everything that ever happened to you. Just one thing.
She is looking down at the table, twisting her napkin around, twirling it. I can read her expression now. It is the same expression I have seen in myself when I am trying to bear up under a weight that is too great for me, too great for my strength, but which I must bear anyway because I have no other choice. She knows, and I know, that she cannot bear the weight of my great darkness, but she carries it anyway because she has nowhere else to put it. At times, she has to accept the fact that a task she cannot manage will not be done, and go do something else. But for now, this is how we are; and therefore this is what we are doing.
'Okay,' she says. 'Where?'
'Anywhere,' I say. 'ANYWHERE. Just so long as it is nowhere where anyone else is. You know what I mean? Nobody else's life. It has to be this one right here.'
I look around. There is no one here. No one is near us. We are at the beck and call of a handful of attendants in a bleak, dilapidated office on the edge of nowhere, and nobody else is around, or seems likely to be, for any appreciable length of time. Perfect.
'Alright,' she says.
'Imagine,' I say.
'Hold on,' she says. 'Imagine what?'
Anything, I think. So long as it isn't a death.
An imaginary life, alright, alright, I think. Think of anything. Anything at all you want. Any little thing. Any tiny thing. Anything that happened.
Just a moment, I think. The important thing is that it is a moment.
'A moment,' I say. 'And then nothing. Okay?
'Okay. Okay, I understand. But . . .'
'DO SOMETHING,' I snap. 'ANYTHING! '
'Well, you're not getting this,' she snaps back.
I want to say something but I can't say anything. The words are near my lips but not in my mind. Why is my head still so dark?
'You're right, I'm not getting this, I'm NOT GETTING IT, you're not even giving me a chance,' she says.
I hate it when she says that. When she says that, she makes it sound like I am holding back, and holding back in order to get what I want, which is not true. I do not want anything, nothing! I want to be just . . . one . . . please . . .
'I am getting you a chance,' I say.
'Then give me the chance!' she snaps.
What is this? What is going on?
'I want you to do something,' she says. 'I want you to imagine an imaginary life. I want you to imagine and then I want you to tell me about it. I'm not making this up. I actually want you to do this.'
It seems like it shouldn't be so hard, not that hard anyway. The hard part is inside. The hard part is that he does not listen to me, the hard part is that he is not behaving, the hard part is that he is inside something, something that I do not understand, something too big to understand, something that the other person does not know about -- but I know, I know what he is, and I know what he is not, and I know that I have to say the words, the words have to come out of my mouth -- I have to say the words because --
Do something, Dear Reader, please do something, give me just a moment --
When I saw him, at first I didn't know what it meant. I had never seen him before, but I knew immediately, at first, that the man who was sitting by the waterfall was my Michael. And I knew that he was called Michael, and that he was fine. But I did not know who he was, or what I was. I only knew that my Michael was fine.
I didn't know what he was doing there, or what I was doing, or where I was. I also knew that he was looking at me. I also knew that we knew each other. I also knew that he was the reason for everything.
Goodbye, Squiddles, she says.
I am on my own.
'Dear Reader,' I say, 'this is all I wanted to say.'
'Goodbye,' I say.
And then, as if by accident, she lifts the lamp on the table and moves it, so that her face is suddenly in shadow.
Deep within the bosom of the Stranglethorn Jungles, there was a camp. Nestled among the tall tree’s and lit up by a singular campfire and armed with only three souls. Siida, Marseille, and Zalra. They’d come here on business pertaining to the order and seeking revenge for the actions taken against the House...against Lazarius.
Siida had sat and spoke with her friends for some time before retiring for what remained of the evening. At the first light of dawn they would meet with their foe head on. No tricks, no disguises, but simply as they were. It was in this simplicity that Siida found herself unable to sleep. How would she handle this creature?
It was first and foremost in her mind that the magister needed to suffer, to know the weight of his transgressions...but how to do this without spilling blood?
She was to be or already was Matron. She needed to stand tall and carry the same weight as the rest of the council...so in that light she cast herself, plotting the night away.
When dawn came, she had her answer and knew full well the price that would need to be paid.
What do you do when everything you know is yanked out from under you? When the world you knew was exciting and full of wonder kicks you out on the street and tells you to "go get a job", how do you deal with the ordinary?
This is the question Silver Sense is faced with. A very unique individual, faced with a very ordinary problem. And he may just find the most wondrous answer.
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Rating: PG-13 for dark themes and sexual themes
Genre: Slice of Life, Drama(?)
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Main Cast:
- Silver Sense
- Teddy Gruff
- Guru & family (not my characters)
- [more?]
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Act I
- Scene I
- Scene II
- Scene III
