#abuse toward her children made them the way they are

[gothiethefairy]

so, i've been thinking about laios's relationship with his mother. we all know about his daddy issues by now, but no one thinks about his mother. i mean, he disowned her as well. he hardly talks about her. he has a lot to say about his dad but when it comes to his mother, the most he'll say is "idk, she was kinda sick a lot."

and i think it was because he did hold her on a high pedestal. she's his mother, his protector. i know for sure she babied him a lot. mothers who's first-born is a son mostly do.

she was the one who even gifted him his precious monster manual!

so, what happened? why did he also lump her with his father and decided "i'm never speaking to them ever again." ?

to put it in simple terms, it was falin. laios was so upset about how his parents treated the situation about the villagers' abuse to falin. both of them didn't know how to handle it, but they both failed at protecting her. the best their father can come up with is sending falin away to the magic school. (without explaining why bc their dad sucked at communicating with his family.)

their village was also very conservative, especially towards magic-users. i always found it to be odd since magic does seem to be the norm in the "dungeon meshi" world, however evidence shows it's not all well-known all around the world. i mean, rin's parents were burnt to death for using magic that was thought to be "black magic".

and falin's natural magical talent being "talking to the dead" would make anyone nervous bc that could be linked to black magic.

their mother is always described to be "frail", and i bet it's mostly because she's very superstitious. gotta be honest here as well, she maybe wasn't mentally healthy. this is just an assumption but their mom comes off as paranoid and anxious, and then does these made-up rituals to try to "heal" her daughter.

hurting falin like this was the final nail in the coffin for laios, because maybe he thought he could rely on her? "hey mom, can you tell dad not to send falin away? please?"

yeah, she had "good intentions", but she still abused her daughter? because she made the situation about herself and went "oh god, it's my fault my daughter is a freak. i have to fix this."

also, laios looking so stressed and haggard here makes me so sad. like, what if their mother did something similar to him when he was younger? he wouldn't care about himself getting hurt, but seeing his own mother doing it to falin is nerve-wrecking.

the way both siblings are portrayed as autistic in different ways is important to their characters. just because falin understood why their parents did what they did, doesn't make it okay. they still hurt her, and laios knows that. and in a way, they hurt him too.

if their parents couldn't protect them from awful, nasty people and expected their children to just bare it, how can laios trust them?

this is scary to see for a child.

after that, he pretty much gave up on his parents and never looked back. but i also think, if he misses them, it's more his mother than his father.

afterall, he did his best to keep his monster manual safe.

[packsvlog]

──── .𖥔˚ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍, toji ⋆.˚

✶ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you had been taught that everything that happens, is the best it could be. meeting fushiguro toji was the second highlight of your life, losing him was your lowest point. you kept strong for your children for ten years, until he suddenly comes back — and maybe, that’s the best bittersweet gift life can give you, as an apology for the past.

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i cried lots and lots while writing this, hope you all have fun, cause i didn’t. divider.

✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: angst with a bit of fluff / domestic violence (not from toji) / fem!reader / curse!au / mention and description of blood, death, guns / sexual innuendo / foul language / smoking / slightly ooc!toji and ooc!megumi (they cry) / reader is tsumiki’s mom / english is not my first language.

✶ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.2k

It could be said that life had a wicked way of granting you wishes and getting them back, but you had always been so optimistic, so satisfied with whatever was throw your way. Never understanding that this force of nature had been either protecting you, or making you go the right path. It took some time, turbulences, weakness, but you followed your instincts, and eventually, your heart.

You had a daughter of your own with your ex husband, Hasuko, who had been nothing but a terrible man. You could handle the verbal abuse towards you, but when he set his eyes on Tsumiki and started to be verbally aggressive to her, you knew it was time to step up.

The little baby had just turned eight months, and you were alone in this world with her lovely presence and the tempestuous personality of Hasuko — he was rude and borderline dangerous, his jealousy had made you leave your old life behind, so you were dependent on him.

Everyday, you kept stealing from his wallet whenever he went to sleep or got drunk, he was a terrible gambler and never suspected, no matter the amount you took, but you still had care, and only when Tsumiki was almost two, you managed to scape to a crappy hotel room, far away enough from the putrid smell of your husband and his hard hand.

It was by the moon light and weirdly looking hotel’s pool you met a man offering you a cigarette. It’s all he did, sitting in a sun chair by your side, and giving you the white stick you gracefully took it, thanking him with barely a whisper.

“You’re A7, right?” He wondered, and it takes you by surprise and makes you uneven how he knows your room. “Don’t worry, I only know because I’m A14, right in front of you. That baby of yours kept crying last night and today all day, that’s why I’m giving you the cigarettes, you must be tired.”

“I’m sorry, she’s just in a new place, we weren’t used to getting out of the house.” You take a puff of the cigarette, while your mind screams at you to shut up.

“May I take a guess?” The man holds his tie before undoing it. You hesitantly nod. “You are running away. By the purple on your cheeks and the marks on your neck, I’d say from your husband.” You stare at your bruised knuckles to avoid his stare. “Also can see you can fight, good. How did you left him?”

“In the middle of the night…” Your voice is cracking before you gulp the tears away. “I put her in the car, when I got back in the house for our things he was awake.” You stare at the unknown male. “I might have punched him a few times, and hit him with a pan. I don’t know. He tried to go to her, and I acted on impulse.”

“Nothing is more powerful than a mother’s love or rage, and sometimes both can create a terrible chaotic fusion for the receiver of it.” You agree to his words by again smoking. “Let me tell you something, the same shit happened to me, I was the child in the situation. I know you don’t know me, but I can help you, let me help you, like a stranger did with my mom many years ago.”

That was the day you met Shiu Kong, and that was the time your life became better, even if just for some years, you owned Shiu everything — your job as his assistant, the house you bought for your daughter and you, and most importantly, that you met Fushiguro Toji through him.

And how wonderful grateful you had been for your friend and Toji, had they never crossed your life, you had no ideia what would you be like right now, it’s not something you would like to know or keep wasting time thinking about. You see the present and you love it, as the gift life has been giving you since the day you left Hasuko behind.

The man tracked you down once, after you send him the divorce papers months later, he found you in a matter of weeks. Knocking at your door, screaming insults in that tone you knew was carried with lots of alcohol and as you held your daughter with all your strength, Toji happened to be at your house, getting details about his next mission, and he walked calmly to the entrance. You didn’t heard much, the only sound was the constant blood flowing through your veins in inhuman speed, scaring you terribly. But the man returned — ripped knuckles painted red, satisfying smirk and your papers signed with a trembling signature and blood prints.

“It’s alright. He is not coming back.” Was all Toji said before grabbing your anxious self to his arms, Tsumiki sleeping peacefully on top of you. “You can rest now.”

After two months, Toji learned more about you, and specially your hate for gambling.

“It’s something my ex would do all the time, Shiu used to as well, but I stopped him. That’s how he has more money nowadays, and so do I, because my salary increased.” You tell Toji under the kitchen orange light, preparing salmon with veggies for dinner. You add a pinch of salt before turning to face him, in his comically large sweater. “You could do much more, Toji, much better.”

His past it’s not a secret he tried to keep from you, he just never said anything because you haven’t asked. The truth of his wife passing and his baby of one year was something you learned when Shiu, always the babysitter, begged you to take care of Megumi earlier that day, which prompted you to this conversation, he had to be better for his son.

You did babysat happily and set both babies in your living room, playing games, mumbling gibberish, painting your walls. You had been so broken by Hasuko, his rage to Tsumiki made you allow her to be a child freely now, and children get messy, and this mess becomes a memoir.

When Toji came to pick his son up, he was baffled at the crayons Megumi was holding, and the fact you were laughing and encouraging his antics in your perfect cream wall. But he dared not to complain, for inside your eyes he saw that sparkle he noticed missing the first time he saw you. How dull you had been in the beginning, and now you were getting happy and safe. He couldn’t tell you no in that moment, couldn’t waste his money like he intended to, Toji trusted you and your judgment more than he trusted himself.

“Alright.” He agrees while getting up and starting to mash the potatoes. “I’ll stop gambling under one condition: go out with me. Let me do something more productive with the money.”

And you say yes, hesitantly of course, you still have deeply unseen scars forged by the past. But when you steal a glance at Toji, sitting in your dinning table, feeding his baby while you feed yours, you can’t help but allow the nerves to dissipate just a little.

It’s enough to stop the trembling of your fingers when he takes you to a fancy restaurant, wearing a black silk shirt you could guess Shiu made him buy that day, same as he did with you and the equal black silk dress you are wearing. You both smile in acknowledgment, but say nothing of it, except when Toji starts to compliment you, and in the middle of your crimson cheeks and biting your red tinted lips, like a teenager, you thank him.

Is easy to be with Toji anywhere, but in that formal space the two of you are left uncomfortable, specially while reading the menu and not understanding the meaning of anything, Toji cracks a joke about the restaurant name that makes you snort loud. The male smirks proudly.

“Would you think I’m an asshole if I say we should leave here and go eat at this small diner I know?” He asks.

“No, I would thank you very much.” Inching your face closer to his, you answered quietly.

Toji gets up and moves your way, standing you his hand, not knowing that the moment yours would come in contact, it would fix perfectly, electrically enough to shake something in both of your core. The two of you leave with contempt smiles, reaching the diner later that night and eating the most amazing hamburger you’ve had.

Life with Fushiguro Toji is meant to be, you could say. Like finding the final piece of your most difficult puzzle, and your life, you could assume, was an incredibly detailed one. But the man fit in it so well, right by the center, you wonder if he was always meant to be yours, and you already now the answer.

It clicks in the male as well how much you mean to him, so it takes no one by surprise how he has you in a court, a year later, marrying him with Shiu as a crying witness and your babies by your side. And in that same day, you both officially adopt the other’s child.

It’s how it was always meant to be, the domesticated feeling of being happy and secure, and fully loved to an extent no other heart could catch, it’s what you all deserve. Your little family.

Unfortunately, happiness last for only four more years. It’s all life give to you, this less than a decade love that you will never forget, every minimal detail is entangled in your memories, all painted by your lover, with his gentle and yet brutal hands. You still remember how the end began, it was with Toji coming home stressed, with blood covering his whole body — he had been in a fight.

“I fucked up.” It’s the first thing he blurted when he comes your way, embracing you quickly. “We have to leave, they are coming for us. For our son.”

The drop of your heart is a feeling you constantly had after that day, but at that time, it was just a sample of the biggest pain you would ever feel. What Toji meant was a secret he told you in the beginning, when he was a dumb young man, recently widowed and with no ideia for how to care for a baby he did the unthinkable, although a part of him imagined he was doing what was right — he sold his son for the Zen’in, his old clan.

“They have a tracker, is a boy with the technique of tracking anything he wants. With our shared blood, he can catch us, but if we move away from Tokyo his power might not work.” Toji cautioned the options with you that night, while you both are sitting by the dinner table, your kids are sleeping in their shared bedroom. “We can go to Korea with the help of Shiu, but I fear it’ll still be too close.”

“Do we have money for this, Toji?” Is all you ask, knowing for a fact the answer won’t be positive. Toji stopped the hit man job after one year married, deciding to work as a mechanic in the small town you both moved to. He signs no with his head, and you feel like crying rivers.

“I can ask Shiu.” Toji whispers. “One last job, good payment, enough to leave it all behind.”

It’s like a dejavu feeling, you wished you had payed more attention to the uneasiness of that sentence, as a warning of life. You didn’t like his job, but you worked in the same bloodied industry not long ago, so you nod, scared and shaking. You don’t want him to taint his soul anymore, but it’s the only way to save your son.

You both go to sleep hugging each-other that night, and every other. All minimal spare moments are with family, cherishing what you have, giving him strength to fight again and for you to not crumble in front of everyone. But you desperately should’ve had, maybe he would’ve found another job, another way.

Is the day before he leaves, before you and the kids leave the house as well and move to an apartment complex in the city, that way Megumi’s smell wont be easily noticed, you both hope.

Toji’s face is kissed by the dining area light, his attention is on your son and his yapping about his dogs — the reason for the Zen’in clan to be coming your way. Megumi is on the tracks to become someone powerful, and they want to tear your boy down piece by piece, removing all the love and protection you gave to transform him into something more cold and brutal.

Toji’s eyes are glossy with the tears of guilt, of despair towards his younger self, so stupid, so young and unprepared. If he knew, if he had waited — the deal was done by the same time you’ve met Shiu. His head is spiraling with the many “ifs” and possibilities. Toji breaks down crying for the first time in his life, taking everyone by surprise.

“Papa.” Gumi’s infant voice is accompanied by your husband’s hiccups. “Papa, I love you so much, don’t cry.”

“I love you too, Megumi. I love all of you, with all of my heart. I’m sorry.” He confess the last towards you. Toji is desperate, feeling he ruined your whole lives, and maybe he did, but you don’t love him any less.

That night, your whole family is together in your bedroom, all sleeping in your large bed, unknown to all of you that would be the last time. Although you and Toji could feel in your hearts. He held you and the babies all on top of his large chest, hoping that he could move away in that moment, to take your pain and sorrows away.

You couldn’t find yourself the opening to cry in his presence. So you didn’t, you hold the tears behind you eyes and your hiccups in your throat as much as you could. In front of your new apartment, you kissed him goodbye with dry lips and he held you enough to bruise your waist, but it didn’t hurt.

“Please, come back for me.” You beg when you two separate, Shiu is in the background in the van, equally sad face. “Both of you. Come back home, and we will be fine. It’s just a small job.”

You don’t know, in fact, he didn’t told you. Toji just said the amount of money, and to not worry your pretty head. You trust him, dumbly. If you knew you would have stopped him.

“I’ll always love you. Thank you for this beautiful family, for making me a better man, for becoming my wife, the mother of our children. I love you in every life possible.” It was like he knew, and so he departs from your hug with a last long kiss and waved goodbye to the kids in the balcony, he goes for the van and stares at you, until he is gone.

He is gone.

“He is gone.” Is what Shiu whisper to you, weeks later, hands keeping your balance when you fall down on your knees. Your hands go straight to your belly, where the small baby bump is forming. “He got the money, so you can leave at any time now.”

You stare at Shiu as if he had grow two more heads.

“Y/n, you have to leave, angel. It’s what you were supposed to do, that’s the plan.”

“No! The plan was for him to come back and we move together. I can’t be without him, Shiu. I can’t.” You sob more and more on his shoulders, not noticing the two shadows in the children’s room, ears glued to the door, hearing it all.

When you finally go to your bed, sleeping with the scent of Toji’s pillow, you sense the bed dipping, opening your eyes you foolish hoped it was Toji, but you see someone identical, younger. Megumi, Tsumiki and you all cuddle in that bed, like that last night. You all cry silently, hoping individually for it all to be a terrible nightmare, and for when the day comes Toji be there, by the kitchen making pancakes with fruit smiles — what you met, in fact, is the person who killed your husband, Gojo Satoru.

You know everything about him and his technique that works as a protection barrier, but that doesn’t stop you from shooting him multiple times in the alley by your apartment — and he lets you, that angers you more. He is just a boy, you can see, but he killed Toji.

“Are you done?” The smoke coming from the gun touched your face when Satoru asks, a bit annoyed, a bit sad. “I’m here because your husband asked me to.”

“Stop lying!” You snap through gritted teeth.

“I’m not lying, please, let me tell you everything.” Satoru begs. You’re tired and sad, so you let him come inside, the gun although empty and useless, stays in your hand.

Gojo starts to explain the whole story while you serve him milk tea with honey, his hands are trembling as much as yours, you notice when he grabs the cup.

“Your husband got involved in the killing of a young girl, in the Jujutsu world, she was an important vessel, there was a large quantity of money for her head. My job was to protect her, but I failed. He finished his job, he almost killed me.” Gojo sips the tea before clenching his jaw, and adding more honey to it. “I went searching for him after healing myself, and…” He hesitated “… his last words was for me to help his family. I shouldn’t, but something tugged me here. So you might never forgive me, and I’m fine with that, but let me do what he asked, you don’t even have to see me, I’ll just give you money and protection.”

“He asked you to save our son from the Zen’in?” He nods. “I hate you, Gojo Satoru, for taking away my husband from me. But i accept your help, just don’t let them fuckers near my son.”

Gojo uplifted your life in a precisely and quickly way. First, he moved your family from that crappy apartment to one in a penthouse with full security, the kids were enrolled in a private school with a driver to always take them everywhere needed, specially Megumi. All was taken care for them, the price the Zen’in paid for your son, was given back by you, through the money your husband won before his death. That didn’t stoped them from trying to get your family, some ways more violent than others, but unlike Gojo, they weren’t bulletproof.

Soon, your name started to grow in the Jujutsu World. The wife of Toji, the human that kills sorceress. Everyone avoids your way and your aim, always hitting your target. That’s how you spend your time, after all. Deciding to take after your husband, but instead of killing innocents (something you don’t know you could ever forgive him, after learning Riko’s history), you track down what could be called the bad guys — sorceress that went bad, man who abuse their partners and children. Anyone who needs a cleanse, comes for you.

Gojo doesn’t aprove of it, but he neves dare to complain to you, he thinks you are strong enough to one day be capable of killing him. It’s in your eyes, the dread and hate you have for him. Your son and daughter don’t know this little secret of your job or what he did to their father, is a promise you both agreed on. Their memories aren’t stained by blood, and you may hate how much Tsumiki loves Gojo or Megumi fails to hides his adoration, but it is for the best.

Gojo saved you.

Ten years later, the world collapses, beginning in Shibuya. You weren’t a Jujutsu Sorcerer, through rectangle glasses gifted by Satoru you could see the curses, but that was not your line of job, never would’ve been. You were terribly anxious in your house, watching at the television, with Tsumiki and Fumiko, by your side. Your phone rings somewhere, your youngest daughter moves to get it before giving it to you.

“It’s Megs.” Fumiko muttered.

“Baby, talk to me.” You commanded to the phone, getting up from the table and moving to your car keys, already leaving the apartment. Your daughters coming behind, you knew they should stay, but they were stubborn, like their father. “Megumi?”

“Mom, Gojo… He is sealed.” Megumi cried on the phone, making your heart break more and more. “Please, I don’t want to die.”

“You won’t die, love. I’m coming already.” The car ignited your answer, you pass the phone to Tsumiki before you are racing the streets. You couldn’t tell earlier if it was luck or not to be living near Shibuya in that moment, but now you knew, you were exactly where you were meant to be. “Where are you, baby?”

“I’m hiding from this guy, I’m sending the location.” Is silent before he speaks again.” I… I can’t see his face, there is too much blood on my eyes.” You whimper at this. “Mom, there is no cursed energy in him, but he is so strong. He beat Nanami and a curse with volcano head and…”

“What? And what, Megs?” You panicked at his sudden silence, you are just some blocks away from his location.

“He’s here.” Then is silence.

The last time you prayed was years ago, the night you were told of the death of your husband. Your hands were tangled enough that no one could separate them, and your words of pleas and begs could shake any mountains out of earth. Today, though, you don’t have time to get on your knees and beg any deity for help. You only have the guns on your car, and your daughters by your side.

“You both stay here.” You ordered while parking the car in a dark alley. “If a curse or that man comes, Tsumiki you drive away, hear me?” The girl nods. “I love you both.”

You leave the car with fast steps towards the building, but before you can even enter, someone jumps from the windows in the building behind you, turning quick, you catch your son jumping in the roof of your car, before running your way.

“HE’S COMING.” Megumi screams, blood that falls from his head go inside his mouth, making him choke before falling in your arms. The man, you soon see, falls a second later. “Mom, please stay behind me.”

Your poor baby is weak, with his trembling figure, he has lost a lot of blood, you can’t let him fight alone — you didn’t came here for nothing, after all. You sigh, grabbing Megumi’s gaze, a sweet smile is all you give him.

“I’ll get his attention, you run to the car.” You can sense the protest coming, but a slight change in your eyes makes Megumi be quiet and nod.

The man, you stare at him, is creeping in the shadows of the buildings, moonlight only on his back, hiding his face away from you. That’s not what matter, but the fact he is casually leaning on your car, where your daughters are, that pisses you off. He knows they are there, he is taunting you to try anything, like a predador — he can either bite your neck off, or your pups. And you can’t shoot him either, afraid that you might hurt Tsumiki or Fumiko.

With hands empty of guns, you walk, because you know that’s what he wants, the thrill of coming your way. Your son is far away when the man moves. Is a second, and he is in front of you, his hands reaching for a punch in your abdomen before his full black eyes catch yours, a second later, turning dark blue. He doesn’t punch you, but Toji takes your breath away.

Toji. It’s been some time since you said his name, even in your mind. The man is always there, much like your wedding ring is always on your finger, but you don’t say his name for the fear it might burn in your heart or tongue. You wonder if this is all real, is it’s really him, but your questions receive their answers when he moves back, hands never touching you.

There is confusion in his face, at the same time, you catch pain in it — a perfect mirror of your own expression, you could say. This time, you move towards him quicker, before jumping to his arms, and the way he holds you back tells you everything you need to know, that your husband is here, by some miracle or prayed answered, Toji exists in this moment.

The tears are falling from your face in the same chaotic way they did the day you found he was dead, but this time a small smile is present. Toji puts you down, but his hug only deepens.

“You’re here.” You cried in his arms before leaving it for an instant, raising your hands to hold his pretty face, although numb in his eyes, he was smiling through his own tears. “You’re not- - not exactly you, huh.”

“No, baby. I’m not.” His hoarse voice has your legs shaking. Gods, you missed him so much, but you were so happy that it was just like you remembered, ten years would never make you forget him. “I’m sorry I took so long to come back, that I couldn’t keep my promise.”

“It’s okay, my love. You are here again.” It’s instant, and you’re kissing him, much like the last time, your dry lips are mesmerized by him, and your brain gets foggy by his presence, his scent.

“MOM?!” A shout comes from behind Toji, making you both separate. Megumi is by your car, your daughters out of the vehicle, all with shocked expressions that make you quietly giggle.

“Is it them?” Toji catch’s you attention, he hasn’t turned around yet, you nod and he gulps. “I - - I didn’t knew it was him, I would never hurt him.”

“I know.” You grab his hand, making him follow you to your children. When his face gets light up by the moon, you don’t move more before Megumi and Tsumiki are jumping in his arms, loud hiccups escaping their throats, while the trio melts into hugs. You stare fondly at the scene before feeling a pull on your jacket, and grabbing the little hand you walk closer. “Love, there is someone you should meet.” Your oldests step back, allowing Fumiko to be presented. “You didn’t know back then, but this is Fumiko, our daughter.”

Toji descends to his knee gracefully, more tears coming from his eyes. The man open his arms, and Fumiko stares at you, wondering, before you even finish your nod, she is already on his embrace, Toji kisses her forehead, moving up and allowing once again for his other children to hug him.

“I’m so sorry I missed all of you growing up. I was trying to keep you all safe, and I’m happy you are now.” Toji wailed, staring at them before at you, in front of him, kissing his lips once again.

“We are fine, my love. There is no Zen’in, the Gojo boy helped us.” He nods at you, before staring at his family. How things should be.

You sense your heartbreaking like that day of the mission, when the gears of destiny started to move against your favor, and you know in that moment, he can’t be here forever — his soul is not present anymore, it’s only a gift of life to repair all the pain it has given you. Toji hears your hiccups, and he nods in understand. Ten years away, and he still knows you better than anyone.

Putting Fumiko down, he kisses the children foreheads, before a hug with all of you.

“I want you all to know, I’m proud of you. No matter what you do, your father loves you endless. This family is my heaven, and I’m happy to have this chance of goodbye.”

“Go to the car, I’ll be right back, okay?” The kids nod at you, individually hugging their dad one more time before going inside the vehicle.

You and your husband move towards the building, the door closes, and soon he has you cornered, attacking your lips with a much needed kiss than before. You answer fast, letting his hands roam your body, much like yours — you missed all of him terribly, and this was your hope of engraving Toji in your dna, for those future nights, yet alone.

Toji takes you there, against that door, like a madman, you let him because you wanted it as much as him. How badly had you missed being touched by your husband, no pain in the world could compare to the emptiness of having all this love to give, and nowhere to empty it. But you did it now, showering him with the ten years of hidden affection. He devoured your attention.

It’s much later when you both are dressed again, none of you want to knowledge the miserable truth that he has to go. You catch his shaking hands and sweat in his head, it’s a sign he can’t be in here anymore.

“I’ve never stopped loving you,” You whispered into his empty chest, no beating heart matching your frantic one, “Nor do I think I’ll ever do so.”

“Good.” Toji exclaimed. “Really good, ‘cause I plan on seeing you in the afterlife, and I’m not letting you go anywhere ever again.” He leave kisses on your head before sighing.

“You really have to go?” Is a silent cry in a question. You stare up at his blue eyes, empty of brightness and yet full of love. “We could find a way to make you stay.”

“There isn’t, doll. This is all we have, and it was so worthy. Seeing you again, so pretty, so mine, our babies all grown as well.” Toji lick his lips. “I wish we had another chance, but as I said before, on our last day, I love you in every possible life.”

“I love you as well, in this life, in the next as well. We will see each other again.” He nods at your words. “We are safe, no need to worry, just take your alone time in the afterlife, because as soon as I get there, you are all mine.”

“I can’t wait.” Toji kisses you one more time, before hugging you tight and moving away slowly, walking backwards so his attention is all on you. “Promise me you won’t be going there too soon, like I did. Be here for our babies, okay? I’ll always be waiting.”

“I promise, my love.”

Toji grabs a metal pipe from a nearby table, and you know what he is going to do. He waved at you goodbye before going more deeper in the room, to the shadows away from you. The sound of skin ripping makes your cries louder, and you catch yourself following him, trying to make it stop — just one more minute, one more kiss.

You reach the body, and it’s not him. Although, a breeze whispers into your skin, like soft kisses to your tears, you smile through the pain. He is gone, but he was here, his love is all over you. He is gone, but he is waiting for you somewhere, loving you endlessly, through time and space and the afterlife, forever.

[americanprometheuss]

i love it when the voices start speaking to me and they make me realize that the reason i sympathize and feel bad for alicent’s children is because i AM alicent’s children.

i’m the child being overlooked in favor of someone else, the ones who have to watch their mother beg for their father to realize that his inactions are harming me. the one being scorned and sneered upon while being told that my father figure isn’t my father, he’s my authority figure, the one who holds the rod instead of being my nurturer.

i’m aemond after he loses his eye, and is watching alicent beg for viserys to do something to help him. i’m aegon slowly wasting away as he tries to live up to the mantle of king that was forced on his head. i’m heleana who speaks of the misfortunes of her family but is ignored and pitied.

i feel like every person who has been emotionally, physically, mentally, etc. abused in their childhood can find pieces of themselves within each of the green children because they’re just the beacon and poster child of how the same abuse can make so many different types of adults.

[ghostbsuter]

Wonder MOM ( part 1 )

Happenings/mentions of:

Child abuse, possible trafficking, kidnapping and blood!

Nothing is explicit.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Someone was in that cage.

Controlled anger aside, Batman made sure his footsteps were to be heard, speaking slow and calm as he approached and slid off the cloth.

"Everything will be okay now, are you–?"

With the cloth aside, Batman got a good look at the unconscious person inside.

He knows that face.

Thats—!!

"B! B, can you hear me?" Oracle calls, considering no one else seems to talk, he assumes Barbara put them into a private line.

"I'm here, Oracle." He answers easily, hands gripping the lock and fishing out the familiar pick-locking equipment.

"You went silent for a moment there, B, we got worried."

He gives a grunt at that, ripping the cage bars open and carefully checking for a pulse.

It's there, barely.

"Oracle, call Agent a to prepare, I'm bringing someone over."

"Got it. B, be careful, please."

Bringing the teen, the same age as his youngest, out of the cage seemed a bit harder than thought.

With some manoeuvring and carefully placed feet, the big Bat brings them both out in one swoop, tight on his hold.

His head rolls to the side, groggily blinking awake and peering up to Batman.

"Batsy?"

"Sleep, I'm getting you out of here."

"...knew you'd find me." Messy black hair hides the way he squishes his own face into Batman's side.

"Mom's probably very worried..." he gives an awkward laugh, throat dry and burning with the move.

The movement and warmth lulled him into sleep quite easily.

(Batman's expression, even if stony and blank, covered in a dark veil, anyone can see the carefully hidden layer of fury.)

—

Patrol was cut short that night, the boy in Alfred's care, and Bruce didn't hesitate calling Diana immediately after.

"Hello—"

"I found him."

Diana, Wonder Woman, remained silent upon the response, a quite inhale echoing through the call.

"They brought him all the way to Gotham?"

The man nods despite knowing Diana wouldn't see, giving a verbal answer after.

"I have a report of all injuries he has been subjected to. I'll send you the list."

There is a moment of silence before a sharp hiss from Diana comes through.

"They took his blood–?!"

"Not much from what Alfred gathered, but enough to get a running supply for their... plans."

"I'm coming over. Bruce, you and I both know the dangers of his blood in the wrong hands."

"Let's discuss this once you're here, Diana. Safe travels."

With a click and the call ended.

One look, and he has the eyes of most birds and bats on him already.

"The boy. You know him." Damian steps forward, arms crossed and cape off. The others must have come back not long ago and eavesdropped on his conversation.

"I do."

(The fact he doesn't elaborate nor does anyone either speak up is quite hilarious, wasn't it for the situation.)

The silence goes on, eyes sweeping over Stephanie's furrowed, thoughtful expression, Tim's calculating gaze, cass's curious yet open body language, duck's suspicious raised eyebrow and Damian's 'I dare you' scowl.

At least they didn't wake duke with their commotion.

"What's going on?" Jinxed, Duke himself comes down the stairs in his sleeping clothes, yawning.

"Duke, you're supposed to sleep."

"Sorry, sorry, apparently family drama is happening, and they needed more support." He jerks his hand towards the gaggle of vigilante children(1)/teens/one adult that is only an adult because of age laws.

Bruce suppresses a sigh.

There's a giggle to the side which gathers the attention of everyone.

Around the same height of damian, slightly thinner, is the teen B rescued not long ago. And who should not be awake either.

Alfred gives a smile, arm out stretched to support him on his way to the batclan, eyening his form with tapt attention.

"Batsy!" Ignoring the snorts and coos, Bruce nods back.

"Danny." The kid grins broadly, approaching.

He gives a wave to the other, attention solely on Bruce however.

"Is my mom coming?"

"Yes, she is on her way."

"Wonderful!"

He claps, arms bandaged to his throat, sickly pale and absolutely looking like prime adoption bait.

Cass approaches, hands ready to sign the most wnated question of everyone in the room and Bruce is already feeling the words of denial at the tip of his tongue.

'New br—'

"No."

Cass isn't backing down, expression only getting more determined.

'Honorary brother?'

He doesn't stop the sigh escaping, especially when Danny jumps up at the words with glee.

"Yes! Honorary!"

She seems very pleased with that, holding her hand out for a silent request, qnd once approved, gave a nice headpat.

"I'm actually surprised you didn't tell your kids of me, batsy." Danny side eyes the man, grinning mischievous.

"It slipped my mind."

(No, he doesn't break under the gaze of every person's disbelief stare directed at him. He stronger than that.)

(B did avoid meeting anyone's eyes tho.)

"Wait, so who is the moth—"

A green portal opens in the middle of the cave, and it has the most tense and drawing weapons.

Wonder woman stepped through.

"That answers my question then."

"Mom!"

Diana swooped him up, holding him closer and ducking her head into his black hair.

The Lady peers up at Bruce with a smile. "Thank you."

Her attention shifts to the child. "Frostbite will be expecting us, are you doing good enough to walk or should I–"

"I'm okay! I can walk!" Danny puffs his chest to prove it, giving her a reassuring smile.

Diana's brows knit together in worry. "Very well." She accepts, reluctant. She leads him to the still open veil of green, nodding towards pennyworth and both bid their goodbyes.

For now that is.

The portal closes.

"So, how were we originally supposed to know about Diana having a son??"

"HIS MOM IS WONDER WOMAN????"

"I'm so glad this isn't another adoptive brother. Honorary is good enough."

"HOW COULD YOU KEEP THIS FROM US, B!!!"

"Does that mean we have a miniature Trinity of the originals?"

[writing0305]

Storm.

Pairing: Homelander x Supe!F!Reader

Summary: You are a supe, part of The Seven and Homelander's girlfriend. What started as a PR relationship, turned into a real relationship when Homelander managed to wear you down. Now you were pregnant with his baby. The first supe baby, born from two supe parents.

Warning: Homelander. Heavy swearing. Toxic and abusive relationship. Homelander''s weird milk thing. Body shaming(of A-train)

Homelander was completely and utterly fucking infatuated with you from the mere second you joined The Seven. He wanted you from the second his eyes landed on you. And like always, Homelander got his way. It took a few months, lots of persuasion, and a forced PR relationship before he finally wore you down.

It was months into your fake relationship that you gave in to the many advances he made toward you. One night together and your whole fucking life changed. Before you knew it, you were his and there wasn’t a single thing you could do. You just had to accept it.

The man was nearly obsessed with you. He wanted you by his side all the time. And when he couldn’t have you with him, he’d track your phone and constantly text you. He dictated who you talked to, what you wore, what you did. Every last thing of your life.

You had learned to live with it, and a part of you had started to get feelings for the man. Almost like Stockholm syndrome. You couldn’t help but love the only man who gave you love and attention.

But things for you quickly turned upside down when you found out you were pregnant. You went to doctors within Vought, when your powers started acting out. The live electricity inside your body ran wild. Like a live wire and sometimes you barely had control over it.

That’s when they informed you the baby inside your womb was interfering with your powers, short-circuiting you. You didn’t believe them until they showed you the sonogram. A baby. Your baby. You were left confused and scared when they told you, you were four weeks pregnant.

You knew supes could have children. There were many supes who had children with none supes. But their was no baby with two supe parents. And with the tight leash Homelander had on you, only he could be the father.

You had always wanted children but many years ago, Vought told you, you couldn’t have children. Because, unlike most supes, you weren’t injected with compound V. You were a test tube baby just like Homelander. Neither of you was supposed to be able to procreate and it left you even more confused in scared.

So much so, that it was now two weeks later and you still hadn’t uttered a word to Homelander. He wasn’t stupid, he quickly realized something was wrong with you. He could see and smell the change in your body. And soon he’d be able to hear it.

For a few days now, he could hear a soft thud, a heartbeat that grew stronger every day. He was unable to find the source and it was driving him crazy. Unaware he was hearing the development of his baby’s heartbeat.

It was in The Seven’s meeting room, on a Monday morning when everything came out from under wraps. You were sitting with the rest of the group, listening to Homelander go on and on about the weeks stats.

He was visibly irritated and growing even more irritated by the second. His ranting was cut off by a long silence as he inhaled sharply. His jaw clenched as he closed his eyes, taking another deep breath.

“What’s that sound?” He asked in a low voice as his gaze darted around the room.

Everyone looked between each other and Homelander in confusion. “What sound?” Maeve asked as she stared up at him with furrowed eyebrows, her head tilting to the side.

“A heartbeat.” He muttered in a low voice, and it didn’t even register in your mind what he was getting at. There were a lot of people in the room with beating hearts and you weren’t aware the tiny baby inside had started developing its own.

Maeve’s eyes squinted as she looked at Homelander like he had gone crazy. Everyone in the room did. “Well, there’s six breathing people with heartbeats in here with you…” She muttered as she glanced between the rest of you.

“I can hear seven.” He muttered and at that very moment, it clicked inside your head. Your heart clenched in your chest and Homelander’s gaze accusingly shot towards you. He stared you down as he focused on you, realizing the sound was coming from you.

“What?” Starlight questioned his words as her eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head as she shared a confused look with Maeve.

You struggled to tear your eyes away from Homelander’s piercing gaze. You softly cleared your throat and shifted uncomfortably in your chair. “I have to go to the bathroom.” You muttered softly as you felt a wave of nausea rise up in the back of your throat.

You felt Homelander’s scorching hot gaze on you as you rushed out of the room. As you stalked down the hall, there were sparks of blue coming from your hands, and the lightbulbs on the ceiling and walls burst as you passed them. Everyone in the hallway was lucky it was only the bulbs and not them being fried to a crisp.

You rushed into the bathroom and as you burst into a stall and fell to your knees, you brought up everything you had eaten that morning. The lights in the room flicked and then went eye-blinding bright before the bulbs burst.

When you were done, you grabbed toilet paper and wiped your mouth. You listened as the door to the bathroom slowly creaked open and heavy footsteps entered. You sighed softly, tossing the toilet paper in the toilet and flushing before you got up to your feet.

With a deep breath, you stepped out of the stall, your gaze immediately meeting Homelander’s. he stood near the door, hands clasped together behind his back and his jaw tightly wired shut. He silently stared at you for a second, his face eerily blank of emotion.

You stood at the entrance of the stall, eyebrows knitting together with fear as you stared back at him. His eyes squinted as his head tilted to the side. “How long have you known?”He asked in a low voice.

You took a shaky breath as your gaze diverted to the ground. “Homelander-” You spoke up, trying to explain yourself to him, but you were quickly cut off by him.

“How fucking long?” He repeated his question, his voice louder now as he took two small steps closer to you. Steps that terrified you.

You silently stared at him for a second before taking a deep breath, your heart completely sinking into the pit of your stomach. “Two weeks.” You whispered as your gaze diverted down to the ground again.

“Two weeks? Two fucking weeks?” He snapped his eyes getting eerily wide as he stared at you. His arms dropped to his sides and his hands clenched into fists. “And you didn’t think to fucking tell me?” He questioned as he raised his eyebrows.

You look up at him again, your head tilting to the side as you sigh, shaking your head. “I-” You desperately tried to explain yourself but he didn’t give you a second to explain yourself. He didn’t want your excuses, he just wanted answers.

“Is it mine?” He asked in a low voice, his head tilting to the side as he took a few more steps closer towards you. His steps were extremely slow yet so determined that it scared you even more.

Your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback by the question. “What?” You asked softly, confused about why he would question your loyalty towards him. At the very least, that was something you always gave him. Even in the beginning when your relationship was a PR stunt, you were loyal to the end.

You gasped as Homelander launched forward. His arm stretched out, his hand wrapping around your neck. He yanked you out of the stall and slammed you against the wall beside it. “Did you let someone else fuck you?” He asked in a low voice as he leaned his face inches away from yours. “Is that why you’re scared to tell me?” He asked as his lips pulled back into a snarl.

“No!” You snapped as blue sparks ran through your vein and Homelander gave you a pointed warning look. You knew better than to shock or electrocute him. And even if your raging hormones did fuck up your powers, you still managed to settle the electricity running through your veins, with just one look from the man.

“Is it mine?” He asked you in a low voice, his grip tightening around your neck. If you were any mere human, he’d have snapped your neck in half, but to you, his grip was barely enough to leave a bruise. “Is it fucking mine?” He repeated his question when you didn’t answer fast enough

“Yes, it is.” You replied with a slight nod of your head and his grip loosened around your neck. You shoved his hand away before stepping towards the bathroom sink, rinsing out your mouth with the cold water.

“Because I’m scared!” You snapped as you turned around to face him, and he was ever so slightly taken aback by your outburst of emotions. You had always been good at keeping yourself calm and collected. This was a new sight for him. “I’m fucking scared!” You yelled, your voice cracking as your eyes filled with tears.  “They told me I couldn’t ever have children! And now here I am and I don’t fucking know what’s going on!” You ranted as you sighed deeply. “I’m scared…for the first time in my life, I’m scared.” You admitted.

He watched you, his hands clasped together behind his back again. His jaw clenched for a second. “Then why the fuck did you not tell me?” He asked as he raised his eyebrows.

He silently stared at you for a second before stepping closer. He leaned down so that his face was inches away from yours and he stared into your eyes. “You should have come to me the second you found out.”  He muttered in a low voice. “I fucking deserved to know.”

You sighed as you lowered your head, sniffing softly and wiping at your teary eyes. “I know…I’m sorry.” You whispered as you shook your head.

Homelander took hold of your chin and lifted your head until your gaze met his. “You will not keep this baby from me, if that was your plan.” He warned as he slowly shook his head before pulling you closer. “I will rip it from your fucking womb if I have to, but you won’t keep it from me.” He threatened.

You took a shaky breath, knowing Homelander didn’t bluff. You sniffed again. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” You whispered as you stared up at him with blurry eyes. “I was planning to…I was just waiting for the right time.” You explained before reaching out and taking his hand into yours and placing it against your stomach. “It’s our baby… I won’t keep it from you.” You assured.

Homelander stared down at your stomach, eyes slightly widening when he focused on the heartbeat of your baby. His baby. His lips parted and you swore you could almost see awe in his eyes. He was completely starstruck by what was inside your womb.

Homelander was truly fucking proud of this accomplishment. A baby that will be born from two supes. A baby the first of its kind. His baby.

He was proud enough of this baby, to force Madelyn to call a press meeting to reveal the joyful news to the world. Every news outlet in America was standing in front of the small podium that was set up in front of the Vought building. A few fans had arrived as well.

It was only you and Homelander on the podium. He stood in front of the microphone and you stood next to him, gaze drifting over the many people who had showed up to hear your news. You couldn’t believe so many people cared about supe news. About news regarding you and Homelander.

“You might all be wondering why we’re standing up here today.” Homelander began speaking as he looked over the crowd. “We have some very exciting news to share.” He informed them as he glanced at you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to his side.  “As you all know, me and Y/n have been going steady for a while now, and we have just received news that we are expecting a baby together.” He said.

The crowds of fans went absolutely crazy. They cheered and screamed for you and Homelander. Camera’s flashed from the news crews and a few congratulations were shouted out from both crowds of fans and news crews.

 “Thank you,” Homelander called out as a proud smile tugged at his lips and he held up a single hand to quiet the people down. “Now you have all heard of supes being made by compound V, or supe babies being born from a supe and normal human.” He said before inhaling sharply and shaking his head. His arm unwrapped from your waist and he laced a hand on your stomach, making more cameras flash. “But not our baby. Our baby is the first to be born from two supes. It has been made by our love and will grow in its mother’s womb. It will not be made from an injection, but born from this wonderful woman.” He spoke before turning his head to face you, flashing you a smile. You returned his smile and reached out, placing your hand on top of his, making more cameras flash.  “This…this is an important and remarkable thing.”

The crowds cheered again and then a few questions were asked by the news crew. General questions, about how far along you were, if you knew the gender, if you two wanted a boy or girl. After all was answered everything was wrapped up.

New spread fucking quickly and twenty minutes later your and Homelander’s baby was trending number one on every social media platform. Everyone was talking about the baby, your baby. You had always gotten a lot of attention as not only a supe but as part of The Seven. But now you got an overwhelming amount of attention from everyone surrounding you.

The most overwhelming and overbearing was Homelander. He now micro-managed your life even more than before. And he was around you almost twenty-four hours of the day. In completed total, you have maybe an hour's worth of time to yourself throughout the day.

You sat in the living room of Homelander’s penthouse. After finding out you were pregnant, he had you move in with him permanently. He stepped inside, returning from a meeting with the rest of The Seven. You were on maternity leave, even if you were barely just entering your second trimester now. Homealnder’s orders. He didn’t want you or the bay anywhere near danger.

He walked into the living room, eyebrows furrowing at the box of pizza lying on his coffee table. He stared at it for a second before turning to stare at you. “What’s this?” He asked as he pointed down at the box.

You glanced at the box and then at Homelander, eyebrows furrowing. “Pizza?” You replied softly as your head slightly tilted to the side.

His jaw clenched and he took a deep breath as he glared at you, his eyes squinting. He reached down and opened the pizza box, lips twitching into a snarl when he saw it was empty. “You’re feeding our kid this fucking junk?” He questioned as he slapped the box off the table and turned his glare back to you.

You stared at the box on the ground before turning to look at Homelander, standing up with a huff. “It’s your fucking kid that wants it.” You snapped at him as you ran a hand over your growing bump. “It’s all it wants.” You muttered as your lips pouted out into a frown.

Homelander took a step towards you and placed a hand on your stomach. While his touch was gentle his demeanor towards you was still very much hostile. “You are supposed to be taking care of our child inside you.” He muttered in a low voice. “Pizza is not fucking taking care of it.” He gritted out as he stared at you with his usual eerie wide eyes glare.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “For fuck sake, pizza is not going to hurt it.” You muttered with a shake of your head.

Homelander sighed deeply in agitation. “I don’t care how much you or the baby wants pizza, from now on you’re eating fucking healthy.” He ordered as he gave you a pointed look. “I don’t want a kid with a gut the size of A-train’s.” He snapped.

He turned around and walked off towards the bedroom with his hands clasped together behind his back. You sighed again and looked down at you bump, softly running a hand over it. “It’s okay, what daddy doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.” You whispered to your baby.

Homelander turned around at the entrance of the bedroom door. “I can fucking hear you.” He informed you as his jaw clenched.  “Do not test me on this, Y/n.” He warned as he pointed a finger at you before turning back around again and going into the bedroom.

You rolled your eyes and plopped yourself down on the couch. Nothing got easier as your pregnancy progressed. Homelander was even more controlling and more protective. But he was dotting on you, you would at the very least give him that.

He was aware of every change in your body before you were even aware, and he was very conscious of both your and the baby’s health. He was always listening in on both your heartbeats and using his x-ray vision. That’s how you both came to know, that even now at four months, your baby was like the two of you.  He was a supe.

Like most nights, Homelander lay with his head on your lap, ear pressed against your small growing bump. He truly did love hearing your baby’s heartbeat. Just like he noticed every other change in your body, he noticed when your milk was starting to come in.

With his head on your lap, he stared up at you. Your eyes were fixated on the tv screen that played some old supe movie, but you were extremely aware of Homelander’s eyes on your face. You tried to ignore him but it was hard when one of his hands reached up and brushed over one of your breasts.

“Your milk is coming in.” He commented.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your gaze shot towards him. “Yeah…” You muttered with a slow nod of your head.

“I can smell it.” He informed you as his gaze focused on your breasts.

Your head tilted to the side and your eyes squinted. By now you should have been used to Homelander not having a filter but sometimes he still managed to catch you off guard. “That’s not a fucking strange thing to say to the mother of your child.” You muttered softly as you raised your eyebrows at him.

His gaze met yours for a brief second before returning to your breasts, his hand still brushing over them as well. He seemed almost fascinated and intrigued. “It smells…like vanilla.” He commented and your eyebrows furrowed again. He was silent for a second before his lips parted.“Bet it tastes like vanilla too.” He added.

You stared down at him in confusion. This wouldn’t be the last time he has a facination with your breasts or your breasts milk. As more milk comes in, the more fasinated he becomes. You began pumping right before your due date and more than once did you catch Homelander drinking your stored milk.

It was after the second time you caught him and complaining about aching breasts, that he suggested something that would benefit you both. It took a lot of persuasion and even threats before Homelander got his way.

Before you knew it, every night he would lay his head gently on your bump and drink any milk that you didn’t pump for the day. The first few times you hated it, but you would admit it brought a great relief to your aching breasts. And then you just got used to it.

Admittedly, the ‘bonding’ time between you and Homelander did bring you closer and brought something new to your relationship. Now you were dependent on each other in more ways than one. And you were both fucked in the head in more ways than one.

Soon you were preparing for the birth of your son. Everyone inside the delivery room was on fucking edge as Homelander watched their every move. He questioned every action they made, every tool they picked up, and every word they said. And he nearly fucking killed the male doctor when he went to check how far dilated you were when you first got to the delivery room.

Your delivery only got worse once you were in active labor. You had burst every lightbulb in the room at first and then caused a power outage on the whole grid. But it wasn’t just your powers stirring up. While giving birth, a massive storm had settled in the skies. A sunny and warm sky turned to dark clouds with heavy downpour and lightning within mere seconds.

Your son was born screaming and the storm outside grew heavier. It was only when he was placed on your chest that both he and the storm outside calmed down.

Homelander followed the nurses like a shadow as they cleaned the baby and ran some necessary tests to make sure he was healthy, as both a baby and a supe. You were resting in the room when Homelander came back, cradling the newborn in his arms. “My son.” He spoke softly to the baby as a small smile tugged at his lips. “You’re perfect.”

You sat up in the hospital bed as Homelander approached you, carefully placing the baby in your arms before sitting down on the edge of the bed. “He needs a name.” You said softly, smiling down at your baby who slept soundly in your arms.

Homelander hummed in agreement as he stared down at the baby. “Storm.” He muttered softly as his eyes flicked towards yours while his hand reached out to cup the back of the baby’s head.

“Storm?” You repeated as you looked at him, your head tilting to the side and your eyebrows furrowing.

“Did you fucking look out the window when you were giving birth?” He questioned with a blank expression on his face as he quirked an eyebrow, nodding his head in the direction of the large window by your bedside.

You pursed your lips as you stared at the man. “No, I was a little preoccupied.” You muttered with a roll of your eyes before your gaze turned to your baby. Being test tube babies raised in a lab, neither you nor Homelander had a childhood. And you didn’t want that for your son. You wanted him to have at least some sense of normality. “Storm…and Liam.” You replied and Homelander’s eyebrows furrowed at the second name. All supes had a second name, a normal name.  “He needs a normal name too…a normal childhood.” You explained softly.

“He’s not normal, he’s a pureblooded supe.” Homelander reminded you as his head cocked to the side and you could see the muscles in his jaw grow tighter as he stared at you.

You sighed, your lips pulling into a tight line as you stared back at Homelander. “He’s a baby.” You reminded him softly. “Just like we were…and look how fucked up we are.” You muttered, referring to growing up with no real childhoods.

Homelander stared at you for a second before his gaze flicked down to his son. You could almost see his expression soften and he slowly nodded in agreement. As he went to finish all the last documents and birth certificate, you stayed in the room. Storm was sleeping next to you on the bed as you sat on the edge, watching the news.

Every news channel announced the arrival of your baby boy. People were lining up the Vought building with flowers and gifts, leaving them around the building. A plane with a banner flew through the air, announcing a boy had been born and people even set off blue fireworks.

Ashley stepped inside the room and her face lit up at the sight of the TV screen. No doubt she had a hand in all this extravagance. “It’s like a fucking royal from Biritan was born.” You muttered as you stared at the TV.

Ashley’s turned to you as a big grin spread across her lips. “I know, it’s fucking amazing, right?” She said and you quirked an eyebrow, staring at her with a blank look that quickly wiped off her smile.

You had but little choice to introduce your son to the world. To the thousands of people waiting outside the Vought building. Homelander cradled your son in one arm and held his other arm out for you to hold onto for support.

Not even supes were immune to the exhaustion, pain, and discomfort of birth. You held onto Homelander’s arm with a tight grip, plastering a smile on your face as you stepped outside the Vought building.

Screaming fans greeted you, and paparazzi were everywhere, taking pictures from nearly every angle. It was chaos. Chaos that disturbed your son from his peaceful sleep. Soon, light and sunny blue skies turned dark, and heavy rain poured down on the streets as your baby wailed from all the noise surrounding him.

You looked up at the darkened skies and then at the people running for cover from the rain. Then your gaze turned to Homelander who proudly smiled down at his son. His gaze then met yours as his smile grew. “See…Storm is the perfect name.” He commented and you chuckled in agreement as your gaze turned to the baby again.

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Keeping up with the Bhangs

This is a one shot from the little series. Read it if you would like it’s on my master list :))

Warning: Angst

Pairing: Bangchan x reader

Summary: Being a mum is hard when you have to constantly play good cop, bad cop.

**

"Chan?" She called for her husband. "Chan come look at what your daughter did!" Y/n called again. The sight infront of her was painful. Her little girl was stood in the middle of the room looking so innocent but she had created a huge train wreck around her. She couldn’t believe it.

She tried to keep her cool, she really did but she couldn’t. She heard the quiet footsteps making their way up towards their daughters room. Her anger was being tested and she felt like she was about to blow.

"What is it Y/n? I have a really important-" he paused when he looked up from his phone as he stared at the sight in front of him. "What the hell?" He let out a gasp.

The room was a mess. There was paint everywhere and crayons all over the wall. The collections of toys chan had gotten Soo-min where spread all over the place and her clothers (Soo-min) was covered in dirt, paint and crayons as she stood there looking innocent with the crayon in her hand. 

"Chan look what your daughter did!" Y/n raised her voice a little causing Soo-min to jump. She took little steps quickly to hide behind her father who was now standing fully in the room. It had been obvious she was scolded before this because her little hands were shaking and her lips were quivering.

Chans eyes soften as he loosened the tie that wrapped around his neck and unbuttoned his shirt. He was determined to keep his wife calm and fix whatever was going on. If he had time of course.

"Hey, Y/n calm down. Don’t stress out baby. Its okay," He picked up his little girl with one hand trying to remove the paint of her face. Her eyes on the verge of tears as she pouted. "We can just get the cleaners to clean it-"

Chan being calm about the whole situation pissed of Y/n to the fullest because why was he so put together? Why was he such a good calm dad.

"Chan! you dont get it! this is not okay, she constantly disobeys, this is a huge mess! i left her for only a few minutes!" Y/n groaned frustrated as she threw the cups she had collected from the ground into a basket. 

"Y/n, its fine. She's a baby-" the glare Y/n gave him instantly made him shut up and look at his little girl that was basically holding onto his shirt for dear life. 

"M' sorry," Soo-min chocked on her sobs as tears started to spill and she Sniffed. She didn’t understand why her mum was being so scary. She only wanted to draw to make her happy cause she knew how sad she had been.

Chans heart melted at her little pout.

"Its okay mama, no need to cry. Daddy's got you," Chan wiped the tears from her cheeks and grabbed the crayon and paint brush from her tiny little hands. "Y/n look what you've done, now she's crying."

"Chan you cant honestly think this is okay-" Y/n was buffled. Chan didn't think this was okay, did he?

"she's a kid! kids make mistakes, she's still learning. You don't scold her, you teach her," His voice was now loud aswell. He was getting frustrated. He didnt want his children growing up in a toxic enviroment where they get yelled at or abused. That was his worst nightmare. 

“Then fine! You raise them if ur such a good teacher,”

“I don’t have time for this Y/n I have a big meeting coming-“

“Of course you fucking do, why don’t you just move into your office and abandon your kids and pregnant wife!”

Her blood was boiling. It was like she was getting everything off her chest and she needed it.

“Y/n that’s enough. Your acting like a child in front of her!” Chan growled. “You can’t even control this situation without calling and crying for me,” his chest was moving up and down as he was huffing. Trying so hard to control himself but he was stressed and tired and it was like she wanted to pick a fight every chance she got.

"Chan! why do you always have to be good cop. Why cant you see this is wrong? Stop being a bad parent and-'

"Bad parent?" He scoffs and looked up at her buffled, "I'm the bad parent? just cause you were abused when you were younger doesn't mean you have to put your trauma on my children..." His eyes go wide. He didn't mean it. He was just angry. He didn't mean any of it. 

The tension in the air wise thick. The shocked gasp that left her mouth was painful. Her head started to spin. Her eyes turning red as her body started to overheat. The emotions she felt were overwhelming. A panic attack was coming on. Her eyes landed on her daughter, the little girl was covering her ears trying to cover her face in her fathers chest. Was she a monster?

"Papa? no fighting," The little girl squealed as she still continued to cover her ears. This made Y/n's heart break. was it true? was she becoming her toxic mother. 

 "It's okay mama," He comforted her shivering body, "I-Im going to get her changed so i can go back to my meeting. I'll tell the maids to come clean up," he so badly wanted to hold his wife and apologize but with the way she stood in one place he knew he couldn't have the conversation, well not right now. 

The door closed behind him as her little girls sniffles slowly faded in the distance. Y/n was in shock. Her brain was taking long to react. Her hands were cold and all of a sudden she couldnt hear anything around her.

Was she the problem? Was she being hard on the kids? she never yelled at any of them unless they did something horrible, she never intended for the father of her kids to call her toxic. To embarrass her like that.

It was too much, she was done playing tough guy. she was tired of the constant fight of depression. She was tired of her husband degrading her as she stayed home while he was out all night partying doing God knows what. 

She wanted her life back. she wanted to be fun again. She didnt want to be tired all the time. She was tired of being pregnant.

Her face felt wet. Her hands automatically covering her eyes. Heart wrenching sobs leaving her body as she placed a hand on her belly. The doubt of being a mother was creeping back up. The sudden urge to run away and dissapear haunted her conscious. Truth is she was tired of the fake smiles and the big parties and important business people.

Yes, she loved the big house her husband built for them, she loved the grand cars and the golden credit cards but she wanted to feel again. She wanted to be loved again. By her husband. She wanted to be a teenager again, falling in love and being young and free.

She laid on the called floor. Her arms supporting the heavy bump she was carrying. The tiled sending shivers down her spine. The tears still spilling from her eyes until eventually she grew tired and fell asleep.

[gilbirda]

I'm just a simple guard, man

Part 6 of my Danny is an Arkham Security Guard AU (og tumblr post)

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

<< Prequel - Clown around and find out | First Part

There was silence and tension as they watched Batman go through the motions, tying up the unmoving but awake Joker and moving him to somewhere closer to the entrance. Joker was surprisingly responsive and lucid, just mellowed and obedient. Somehow it made it better — if he was a vegetable Jason knew Batman wouldn’t let that go until Danny undid what he had done.

Danny.

The Ghost King.

Jason didn’t know exactly what that meant. Heck, until today he didn’t know that ghosts were kind of a thing. Mythical creatures, he could buy. Apparitions, imprints of conscience that were unavenged — that he could buy too. But a Ghost King implied an organized society with status and a legal organization. A power structure.

“Oh yeah, forgot to mention that.”

He turned towards the doctor well aware his face showed every emotion.

“The fuck?”

“Did that really happen?” Duke was trying to keep calm, but his eyes were wide open and his hands slightly trembling.

“Yeah?” She lifted an eyebrow.

“But—”

“How the heck—”

“ — how did he do that —”

“ — did he set him on fire!”

“ — and is he even human?”

“Children,” Alfred stood from his seat, positioning himself between the brothers and their guest. “Let her breathe.”

“It’s okay, Mr. — uh…” She blushed as she realized she never asked for his name.

“Alfred,” the butler smiled, “Alfred Pennyworth.”

“Mr. Pennyworth,” she nodded politely. “I’m fine. I am aware that after that… theatrical spectacle, explanations are needed.”

“Indeed.” Batman cut in the conversation. “Proper explanations are in order. After I deliver the Joker to Arkham.”

“You can’t be serious!” Did the old man go crazy? Back to that place?

Jazz frowned, seemingly sharing his thoughts. She leaned closer to the microphone and spoke in a controlled voice. “Where are you delivering him? In the hospital.”

Bruce took way too long to answer, so Tim did it for him. “Through the front door?”

Jazz didn’t find it funny. “Wait for me.”

“What?”

“I said, wait for me.” Jazz reached for her discarded jacket, eyeing the door to the elevator back to the manor. “Joker is my patient and I need to be there.”

“What for?”

She turned to look at Jason. “He doesn’t deserve to be left at the mercy of some of the people in the Asylum. They could—”

“He can rot for all I care.”

The vigilante walked up to her, getting in her way and using his height and build to scare her into submission. Jazz held his gaze, defiant, muscles tense and ready to throw down if needed.

“You don’t know that place like I do.”

Jason huffed. “Whatever the inmates want to do to him, he deserves it.”

“I wasn’t talking about the inmates.” Her teal eyes steeled with fury. “Arkham has a history of staff abusing their authority.”

Duke glanced at Alfred, unsure what to make of that statement. He quietly stood up, getting ready to intervene in case Jason decided to get violent; but Alfred held him back with a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“Again, he deserves it.”

Tired of craning her neck to look up at him, Jazz stepped back. “He deserves the judgment of the people he’d hurt in the past — something my brother and I can promise you will happen.” Given what they saw in the camera feeds, nobody doubted the siblings could ensure it. “But I’m not going to tolerate that my patient spends his last years alive being unnecessarily abused.”

“I told you—”

“What do you think,” she interrupted Jason, her gaze cold and her body tense, “will happen if someone dies full of rage? If in their last moments they wish they could enact vengeance on those that harmed them?” She narrowed her eyes, knowing her words were hitting something in him. “What do you think will happen to the Joker’s soul if he’s abused and tortured at Arkham, and probably killed, after he crosses the Veil?”

“I—”

“A huge pain in the ass, it’s what will happen.”

The tense silence could be cut with a knife. Duke couldn’t understand how Jazz not only managed to stare down the six foot something tank that Jason was, but she also commanded the attention and respect. He was a newcomer to the place and he had done more than enough crazy stuff during his time in a gang; but he still struggled with openly challenging Jason and Cass. And Tim, but that was when the vigilante fell into his weird mumbling-in-the-dark episodes.

“I’m taking you there.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the garage section of the cave. Jazz yanked her arm free and stopped to cross her arms.

“I can walk on my own.”

Jason bristled, opened his mouth to continue their fight, but apparently that was when Alfred had enough.

“If you want to get there in time,” his voice was neutral, controlled, and his face wore his signature arched eyebrow, “I'd recommend leaving right now.”

His tone was final.

Jazz and Jason looked at each other, frozen under the certified Alfred glare. They nodded and walked quickly towards where Jason’s signature red bike was parked.

***

Arkham Asylum was a mess when the duo arrived — police cars flooded the entrance, and the Batmobile stood out like a sore thumb in the midst of all the red and blue lights flashing around.

Jazz cursed under her breath. She would have preferred to not turn the situation into a circus.

They managed to walk through the sea of cops and civilians looking in the compound from the metal gates. Funny enough, the few guards blocking the way didn’t move to stop them once both glared at them at the same time.

Jazz made a beeline at the Director chatting animatedly with Batman. Black Bat was standing a bit back with Red Robin, probably discussing what just happened with Danny, but the Arkham doctor didn’t care about them.

“I demand I see my patient.” Jazz didn’t beat around the bush.

The Director blinked and slowly looked away from Batman, as if he couldn’t believe someone had the audacity to interrupt this moment. “Miss Fenton—”

“Doctor.” She corrected him.

The man cleared his throat, throwing a nervous glance at the silent Dark Knight.

“Doctor Fenton,” the word was spit like it was a curse, “your shift doesn’t start until eight.”

“But the Joker is my patient and I know he’s in there.” She gestured at the looming Asylum with her hand. “After such a traumatic event I need to see him.”

Someone coughed a laugh behind the Director. At least the man had the decency of hiding a smile.

“The Joker is not going anywhere, Miss— Doctor.” He added when she glared at him. “You can schedule a session tomorrow. That is, if your patient is up for conversation.” With that, the man deemed their conversation over and turned back to Batman. “Once again, thank you so much, Batman. I’m not going to ask how you did it this time, but we will certainly appreciate the results.”

Jason was as happy as everyone else that Joker wouldn’t be a problem anymore, but the way this bastard was treating Jasmine was outright criminal. He squared up for a fight and tried to step forward, but a cold hand on his forearm stopped him. Jazz moved her eyebrows up and her eyes went over his body before she looked back towards the police. Several new vehicles joined the party — all the Gotham news channels were here to record the event.

And he wasn’t wearing his suit. Right.

He nodded and remained where he was, but made a gesture towards where the Director was waxing poetry about how good Batman was for their city and how much the city owed him.

Do you want me to beat him up for you? He wanted to ask.

Jazz chuckled, hiding her smile behind her hand. She shook her head and patted his arm a few times.

“Thanks,” she whispered, “but not today.”

He didn’t know how serious she was. This was the same person who pulled a gun at Red Hood and five seconds later forced him into a therapy session. The same lunatic that was excited about having the whole bat flock in her apartment so she could question them.

For the first time since the alarm sounded about Joker’s escape, Jason let himself relax a little bit. Jazz was crazy enough to take on Arkham’s finest and leave victorious.

“Director Kallwick,” her voice was pure steel, “I’m afraid it’s imperative I see my patient after such a traumatic—”

“I think there’s something you are not understanding, Miss Fenton.”

“And what is it?” She crossed her arms.

The Director raised an eyebrow, now fully facing her. It didn’t escape Jason how the man squared his shoulders to look bigger and overpower Jazz. He had seen that behavior way too many times, in many different situations — and he didn’t like it when men like the Director used it against people that couldn't fight back, specially women.

He glanced at Bruce, trying to gauge how much the old man would flip if he intervened anyway. He trusted Jazz, but he really didn’t like the Director right now.

“I’m positive that after today’s… development,” he smiled, “things at Arkham will definitely change. For the best, of course.” He raised an eyebrow. “Starting with streamlining our staff and making sure we count on experienced doctors to treat the patients that really need it.”

Was he implying…?

Jazz hummed, regarding the man with as much contempt as she allowed herself to show. “I know you don’t like me, Mr. Kallwick. You never did. I know you hired me because you needed cannon fodder to sacrifice and keep the Joker entertained.” She smiled. “I’m young, but I’m not stupid. And I know men like you — weak, scared, and cowardly.”

“Hey there young—”

“I know you’d rather let your staff die than develop better and healthier outlets for patient’s destructive tendencies.” She lifted a hand and walked closer, poking the man’s chest. “I know that you look the other way when guards and doctors mentally and physically abuse inmates because you actually think they deserve it.” She poked him again.

“I don’t—” He went to grab her hand.

She moved away from him so quickly and so smoothly that it looked like a dance step.

She smiled. It wasn’t nice. “And I know all about what you’ve been doing with the funds and donations.”

Even in the middle of the noise from the crowd at the gates, you could hear the man loudly swallow.

“I know about the embezzling and the bribes and the interesting filing mistakes and convenient registration mishaps, Mr. Kallwick.” Her eyes slowly turned greener. It was subtle, but you could see that her usual teal color suddenly looked greener than blue. A trick of the lights, you could think, but the bats knew better. “I know you don’t care how or why the Joker is unresponsive, but I do; and if you want me to stay in my lane I highly recommend you stay in yours.”

The man processed her words, the thoughts clear in his eyes. He was probably thinking how she could have found out, or who told her, or how was he going to silence her better.

Jason saw the switch to the later thought as clear as day.

Bruce saw it too.

Before the man said or did anything else, the tall and quiet shadow of Batman placed himself behind Jazz, one hand on her shoulder as an obvious sign of his support. The other two bats placed themselves on the sides of the Arkham doctor, arms crossed, looking down at the man who was realizing too late the mistake he made.

***

“Are you still mad?”

“Hm.”

“You sound like the old man.”

Jazz glared at him, violently stabbing her ice cream cup and breaking her plastic spoon.

“You may need to deal with those anger issues. Have you thought about going to therapy?” He said with a bright smile.

She stood up, not caring about attracting attention. Who was going to pay attention to them, Jason didn’t know. It was way early in the morning — or late at night, it depends on how you see it — and Jazz had demanded they go to the closest ice cream place that was open.

Luckily he knew a place, because of course only in Gotham someone would be crazy enough to have an ice cream shop open at this hour.

“Some vigilantes, and some rogues, really like ice cream. It is an untapped market.” The man running the place said when asked, shrugging like it was obvious.

Jazz sat back down, now with a new spoon, and continued eating her sweet monstrosity of layered chocolate and dulce de leche.

“If you are this mad I highly recommend you take it with Bruce. I’m sure he will be very understanding and accept your feedback.”

She kicked him in the shins, rolling her eyes at his sarcasm.

“Whatever you say, mister Daddy Issues.”

It was his turn to kick her, but she was expecting the movement and moved away before he made contact. She smirked, taking another bite of her ice cream with a smug smile on her face.

God, he hated older siblings and their knowing smiles.

He prepared to kick her again..

“Don’t even try,” a new voice said, the person taking the empty chair on their little table. “Jazz is like a ninja when she really wants to.”

Jason wanted to differ and explain he had trained with literal ninjas, but the speed at which she whipped a gun on him not that long ago came to his mind. Was it a liminal thing? Or a Jasmine thing? Maybe a Fenton thing?

“Hey.”

“Hey back at you.” Danny sighed, taking Jazz’s ice cream cup and biting directly from the top layer. “That bad, huh?”

Jason bit his simple chocolate cone, watching the siblings talk.

“She’s mad because B scary dog privileged his way into making the Arkham Director submit and it undermined Jazz’s authority. She did a neat speech and everything.” He shook his head. “All wasted.”

She huffed and stole her ice cream back. “I didn’t need his support.”

“I know you don’t.” Danny glanced at Jason. “But it’s better if you have Batman’s backup, yes?”

Jazz ignored him.

Jason took the chance to look at Danny, trying to find anything that was different about the young man. He still had the scene back with Joker burned in his mind.

King of the Ghosts.

He would have never guessed, given the scrawny and sleep deprived raccoon of a man sitting next to him. He was still wearing the same shirt and under the fluorescent lights of the ice cream shop, it was easier to see the scars on his arms and hands — and the ones peeking from under his collar.

“Spit it out.”

“Huh?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “You have questions. Ask.”

“I don’t—” He tried to deny it, but thought better about it. Jason bit his ice cream and cleared his throat. “I want to ask about —”

“Of course you want to ask about what happened.”

A soft thump! came from under the table, and given Danny’s glare at Jazz then she probably kicked him for the sass.

“What do you want to know?”

“Why are you being so forthcoming?”

“I’m feeling charitable today.” Another kick from under the table. “Ok, ok! No need for violence.” He sighed. “Jazz’s right. This is not my territory. If we want to stay, we have to play nice with you guys.”

The way he said it, and the way he made a face when he said it, told Jason that Danny was really struggling with trusting the bats with the information. Trust issues he could understand — one wasn’t in their line of work without being betrayed or hurt enough to warrant these issues.

No. It was something deeper.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

There were many questions burning in his mind and he didn’t know how long they had. “Why… Gotham? Why Arkham? Why a guard?”

“You just wasted your time man. You already know the answer for that.” He pointed at his sister, who nodded in agreement. “I followed her.”

“And I came here because I was interested in the rogues.” She added, licking her spoon clean.

Jason shook his head. “I meant — why is the King of the Ghosts… just… here?” He lowered his voice, glancing at the ice cream man. The man was half asleep on the counter and clearly not listening. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

Danny responded with a dry laugh. “I have no interest in being the king of anything.”

“But?”

He looked away, suddenly very uncomfortable.

Jason glanced at Jazz, but she was glaring at the table.

“What happened?” He poked the siblings, trying to be soft. It was obviously a touchy subject, and whatever happened was painful enough that they’ve been avoiding any mention of their past before Gotham like the plague.

“It was… It happened a few years ago. I defeated the previous Ghost King, but nothing happened for a while. I thought… I thought things had calmed down since ghosts stopped attacking my town so often. And then, after I graduated highschool, the Observants started harassing me about taking the throne.”

“Did they hurt you?” Jason didn’t know what these “Observants” were, but he could guess from context.

Danny shook his head, stealing Jazz’s ice cream again. “They were fucking annoying, but they couldn’t touch me. As the Prince, I was technically their superior and untouchable.” He bit the cold treat and chewed. Somehow Jason wasn’t surprised Danny never got a brain freeze. “It was a few more years of avoiding them and trying to keep peace in town, as well as trying to get to know the Infinite Realms.” He chuckled again. “I even considered, for a moment, that being King wasn’t even that bad.

“It was a pretty normal day when it happened. I went to the mall with my friends. Sam, she — She had a fight with her parents and went there to cool down and cheer her up. The ghosts came first,” he pushed the ice cream back to his sister, and avoided Jason’s eyes, “but nothing was out of the ordinary. We fought. I defeated them. More and more kept coming, faster than I — than we could contain them.”

“I was away at college, but I later learned that it was a massive all out attack on just Danny.” Jazz placed a hand on Danny’s. “It was a coup attempt.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know that so many people were against me being King, and all that time they were planning the attack, and if I just paid a little more attention… If I wasn’t so—”

Another kick under the table. Danny cleared his throat and tried again.

“The GIW came as well. Things went from bad to worse, and by the end of the day it was an all out war between us, the ghosts doing a coup and the GIW. With our parents at the head of the attack.”

Jason frowned. “But you guys knew they worked with the GIW.”

Jazz gave him a warning look. “We knew they collaborated and consulted for them. We knew about the patent weapons.”

“But we didn’t know that they’d lead an attack on me.”

Danny did a brief pause to breathe, and stole more ice cream from his sister. She just pushed the cup towards him, apparently done with the treat.

Jason followed where the siblings were going. “They knew you’d be at the mall. That… That Phantom would be at the mall.” Danny looked up, his tired eyes confirming his thoughts. “They knew.”

It wasn’t a question.

Jazz nodded anyway. “We don’t know how long they did, but the truth is they knew about Danny. And went for him anyway.”

Minutes ticked by. Jason and Danny made quick work of their ice creams, lost in thought. Jazz checked her phone, frowned, and typed a few messages before putting it away.

“People died.”

Jason blinked at the non sequitur. Danny swallowed the last of the ice cream and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Neighbors, friends, people I knew. That day. They were fine and then they were dead.”

Guilt. It was clear as day.

“Is not your—”

“Don’t.” He cut him off. “Please.”

Jason nodded and decided to move on. “So you won the fight?”

“Barely. The ghosts were either captured by the GIW or retreated when they became outnumbered. Tucker and Sam managed to mess up with the idiots in white’s machines and weapons long enough for us to retreat. But we knew that wasn’t the end of it.

“We packed what we could and I hid at Sam’s, with the excuse that I would help her while she recovered — she broke her arm at the fight. We were a hundred percent sure if… if Jack and Maddie actually knew I was Phantom or not, but just in case.”

“I stayed. They didn’t target me so we were positive they didn’t know about me being liminal, so I stayed home.”

The vigilante frowned at Jazz. “What for?”

“Someone had to monitor them to see what they knew exactly. I also hid away any weapon they could potentially use against Danny.” She shrugged. “Not that it actually helped, because neither came back home in the weeks after the incident.”

“They were at the GIW base.” Danny crossed his arms and leaned back on his seat. The young man looked tired. “Because of course there was work to do with the captured ghosts.”

Jason hummed. “So they’ve been working on experimentation since then?”

Jazz shook her head. “We were telling the truth when we said they weren’t involved in that, at least not by the time we left Amity Park. Back then they were more involved in investigation on ghost containment and weapons research.”

He nodded, and turned back to Danny. “And the coup?”

The young man cursed under his breath. “Dealt with them.”

Jason waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. He cleared his throat and tried again. “What—”

“Listen, man.” He slapped the table and stood up. “That doesn’t matter. They don’t matter. I dealt with it. I accepted the damn crown and then told everybody to fuck off. And they have done that so far.” He breathed in, breathed out. “I’m nobody’s king, I’m just a simple guard now, okay? Nothing more, nothing less.”

With that, Danny walked away and left Jazz and Jason simmer in the tense silence. He looked at her, trying to gauge if he had said the wrong thing, but Jazz appeared apologetic.

“Before you ask — I don’t know either. Nobody does. He just… after we took down the GIW base, he took the captured ghosts back to the Realms. He came back two days later, hurt and barely coherent, and never spoke of what happened there. To anybody.” Not even me, the hurt statement was implied. “He was… changed. He didn’t say what happened but from what we could piece together it was bad, very bad.”

A myriad of possibilities crossed Jason’s mind. How bad is “very bad”? How much did Danny stir things up at the Realms that he had remained unbothered ever since? He tried to map the scars that he saw, and grimaced at the idea of two straight days of fighting after doing a raid to the GIW base.

Danny was done. With being a hero. With fighting. With trying to do the right thing.

What was even the “right thing” here? Going back to being the King of a dimension that doesn’t want him and he doesn’t want in return? Give it up, and risk someone worse taking control of so much power? Destroying the GIW? Going after their own parents?

He thought about the Joker. He asked Jazz when she was back from checking on the clown, and she willingly shared some details about his state. Jason never felt sorry for the fucker, but gained a new appreciation for Danny and his abilities.

The power to take someone’s soul and seal it inside their bodies — what else could he do? What other otherworldly and potentially devastating powers did he have at his disposal?

What else was he choosing not to face? What else was he running away from?

He stood up and followed Danny outside, finding him standing in the cold morning rain of Gotham. It wasn’t pouring, but it was easy to get soaking wet if you underestimated it.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

Both ignored the door when Jazz quietly followed them out of the ice cream shop.

“Good.” The younger man looked up at the gray sky, maybe looking for the sun. Water droplets fell down his face, and he welcomed them with a relieved, albeit tiny, smile. “Because I don’t have anything else to say.”

Jason rolled his eyes. What a drama queen.

He glanced at Jazz, who was shaking her head. “Whatever you say, edgelord.”

She pulled Danny to her chest for a hug, which he only protested with a tiny grumble. Jason chuckled before he was pulled in too by a surprisingly strong grip.

“If I have to suffer sisterly hugs then so do you.”

Jazz giggled but welcomed the addition to her arms, not caring that she could barely hold both of them and her arms fell short. She squeezed them harder towards her chest, humming in delight.

Great, she was a hugger. Jason really didn’t need another Grayson in his life.

<< Prequel - Clown around and find out | First Part

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[imaginesandbandfiction]

Second Chances

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: This is part 2 of Second Choices! Part 3 will be a shamelessly smutty epilogue so click here to be added to the taglist to be notified when that's live!

Warnings: Drinking, little bit of angst/alludes to a history of abuse

Rhysand returned from Windhaven just in time for dinner, rested and refreshed after a long weekend holed up in his mother’s cottage with the male he’d been casually seeing for the past few months. In addition to being pretty, Austris had a wicked tongue that kept Rhys thoroughly distracted. 

It was three days of pure bliss; of forgetting about his duties and giving into every whim and desire that struck him without thought. While he dreaded returning to work and his responsibilities, the thought of spending the evening catching up with his family put a little bounce in his step as he landed outside the House of Wind. 

The outdoor dining table was set, silver trays piled high with juicy, slow-cooked meats, a rainbow of roasted vegetables, and potatoes whose garlic-and-rosemary glaze wafted in the early evening breeze. Fae lights floated above, illuminating the feast in a soft glow. Behind it all, he saw his family sprawled out on the lounge chairs. Judging by the scattered bottles littering the ground around them, he had lots of catching up to do.  

He took one step and then Mor jumped up, waving her wine glass towards him. 

“Rhys is back!” She exclaimed, nearly tripping over her own feet as she rushed towards him. “Time to eat!” Her voice was suspiciously loud, though he supposed that happened when one drank too much on an empty stomach. 

He chuckled and accepted the one-armed hug she offered. 

“Good to see you too, cousin,” he said, guiding her towards the table. “You must be really hungry.” 

Amren stalked past, face pinched in a scowl. 

“You have no idea,” she grumbled as she plopped down in a chair. She reached for an unopened bottle of red wine and uncorked it with her teeth, filling her goblet to the brim. 

Rhys’ eyebrows skyrocketed towards his hairline, turning to throw a questioning look at Az and Cas as they made their way to the table. The Shadowsinger’s face was impenetrable, as usual, but in three centuries of friendship Rhys had never seen Cassian look so pitiful. His wings drooped dangerously close to brushing against the ground, and his hair was a loose, tangled mess that hung over his face. Beneath it, shadows lined bloodshot eyes that were cast downward, lacking their usual spark of mischief.  

Azriel shook his head as he passed; the movement was barely more than a twitch but Rhys got the meaning loud and clear. He took his seat and poured himself a hefty glass of wine; he had a feeling he was going to need it. 

Everyone settled at the table, refilling drinks and piling food onto their plates, yet there was a gaping hole between Mor and Cas where you should have been. 

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked, not thinking much of your absence although he was disappointed that he wouldn’t get to catch up with you before it was back to business as usual the next morning. 

Suddenly, everyone stilled with their forks and goblets held aloft. It was too quiet. Panic jolted his heart into a sprint as he took in the frozen faces of his Inner Circle looking like children caught sneaking sweets before supper. 

Finally, Amren spoke, glaring at Cas as she spat, “Ask Cassian.” 

The Lord of Bloodshed glared at her and pushed away from the table, chair clattering to the ground behind him. 

“I’m eating in my room,” he snarled, stabbing the fattest, rarest steak with his fork and plopping it on top of the vegetables piled on his plate. 

“Cauldron boil me, I leave you alone for three days,” Rhys muttered, downing his wine in one long gulp. 

—

Earlier that day, Amren had stopped by your room and offered to skip dinner with you, but you were looking forward to a quiet evening in the library. Alone. After storming out on Cassian, your two best (female) friends had spent the night in your room with you, drinking straight from the bottle of Illyrian moonshine you’d pilfered from Rhys’ secret stash until you passed out in a tangled mess of limbs and hair somewhere between midnight and dawn. 

They’d only agreed to leave when you threatened to show Rhys the memory of them breaking into his room using only a hairpin the night before. And even then, every two hours or so you’d get a knock and a quiet “Just checking in!” from one or the other. You suspected they drew up a schedule, and though you were grateful to have such caring friends, what you really needed was peace and quiet. 

It was hard to wrap your head around just how much things had changed within a span of twenty-four hours. But curled up amongst the stacks of old books in a plush armchair tucked away in a little alcove, you finally managed to admit to yourself that you could have handled things better. After all, you were the one that made this mess for yourself—you should have known better than to shit-talk Cassian’s girlfriend—and instead of apologizing, you’d fucked things up even further. 

With a sigh, you cracked open the stiff leather cover of your journal and flipped to a blank page, letting your pencil hover above it. Not one to pay too much attention to emotions and feelings, the little book hadn’t gotten much use in the nearly two centuries since Rhysand had gifted it to you. 

But when your brain was twisted into too many knots that not even a night of drinking with your friends could untangle, the only thing that seemed to help was spilling your guts onto paper. Seeing your thoughts laid out in graphite helped you make sense of them, so you pressed down the tip of your pencil and forced your hand to move. 

Cassian is my mate. He’s my mate and I fucked everything up and he probably wants nothing to do with me. 

I’ve been trying to ignore it, to push down these stupid feelings. I thought it was just the bond trying to force me into something more with someone who was supposed to be my best friend. Just a friend. 

But if I’m being completely honest, I think I’ve always been a little bit in love with him. After all, you don’t sleep with someone on and off for half a century if there isn’t at least some baseline of attraction. 

I don’t know, I guess I just always assumed that since my father didn’t want me and my mother only wanted me for the child support check, well, no one would ever want me. Not forever; not as a wife and definitely not as a mate. 

I’m too damaged for anyone. 

Too damaged for Cassian. 

Having him as a friend forever was more important than trying for more. It was too big of a risk, and I couldn’t lose him. Couldn’t lose my family, not when I finally got one that stuck around. 

I could sleep with him, though. It was transactional; a mutual itch-scratching made purposefully hazy by Mirthroot and alcohol. In those stolen moments, I could pretend I was someone else. Someone worth keeping. 

Mor thinks I’m insane for keeping the bond to myself for so long, but we were fucking regularly enough to take the edge off and, well. I learned to grit my teeth and take it on the chin before I got my first cycle. 

I’m good at pushing things down, at pretending to be okay. Even if he does want me, I don’t know if I can handle it. That deep, emotional intimacy without anywhere to hide. 

Your hand flew across the page as words poured out of the deepest, darkest parts of you. The things you kept hidden from everyone, including yourself. Tears swelled in the corners of your eyes which stung from the effort it took to keep them from falling. 

And then you felt a gentle knock against your mental shields. Rhys must be back. You peel them back just enough to let his voice in. 

Y/N? Can I come down and say hi to my favorite sister? 

I’m your only sister, motherfucker. I better be your favorite. 

He waited, a soft breath of a presence within your mind, swirling winds of calm smoothing out the edges of the turbulent waves crashing around in there. 

Even though, normally, you’d rather die than let anyone see you like this, you agreed. 

Fine. But only because I missed you, you stupid bat. 

Love you too, sis. 

You closed the journal and tucked it beneath one thigh, adjusting the blanket you’d brought down with you so it’s fully covering the little book. It didn’t take long before you heard his light footsteps descending the stairs. Using the back of your hand, you wiped away the lingering moisture in your eyes and then straightened in your seat. 

“Skipping my welcome home dinner?” He asked as he approached your little reading nook, a lazy grin and raised eyebrows painted on his face. 

You scoffed, careful to keep your journal hidden as you stood up to throw yourself into his open, waiting arms. His wings closed around the two of you and you’re grateful for the extra pressure against your back. 

“I missed you too,” he muttered into your hair, pulling your face tight to his chest. 

The two of you stood there for a long time; Rhys could always sense when you needed something steady to hold onto. He claims it started before he even knew he had a sister, that sometimes late at night he could hear muffled sobs echoing in the back of his mind. That a gaunt little girl trapped under the mountain haunted his dreams for years before he was allowed to visit.

His father made sure he stayed away. 

But as Rhys settled into his powers and got full control of them, he was able to establish a stable connection. It took a while before you trusted him; after all, you grew up with your mother telling you that the High Lord and his heir despised you. 

Your sire, as Mother called him, had thrown her under the Mountain as soon as he found out she was pregnant. Set her up with a place to stay and not much else; you had a new stepfather every few years, and each one was worse than the last. The Black Widow, they called her, as her husbands had a habit of dying in unfortunate accidents. 

As adults, you and Rhys were closer than most siblings, even those that grew up together. Unfortunately, that meant you had no choice but to get your shit together because running away was not an option. 

“Wanna tell me why my General looks like a kicked puppy?” Rhys murmured into your hair. You felt the bond clench, tugging on your heart, and groan against your brother’s chest. 

He ran a comforting hand up and down your back and you signed, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep what happened a secret for much longer, what with all the meddling busybodies you surrounded yourself with.

“We fought,” you muttered. “I’ve been avoiding him ever since.” 

“And what, pray tell, did you fight about?” 

You lifted your head, eyes glistening in the low candlelight as you blinked up at your brother. Heaving a sigh, you tell him everything that happened while he was gone. As soon as you opened your mouth, the words spilled out of you like they’d been waiting for the opportunity to escape. 

Rhys had to stifle a chuckle when you finished your story because he loved you, but Mother above, you could be so stupid sometimes. 

“Oh, Y/N,” he sighed, tugging you closer. He rested his chin on the top of your head and tugged on the ends of your hair with one hand. 

You batted it away, groaning again. 

“Listen, I’m not going to tell you what to do because I know you hate that,” he started, negating your protests before they had a chance to form. “But I think you need to talk to him. Unless you plan on avoiding him for the rest of your life, you’re going to need to work things out one way or another.” 

“I could defect to another Court, I hear Summer’s wonderful this time of year.” Rhys shoved you towards the front of the library, ruffling your hair. 

“Talk to him, you insufferable brat.” 

—

It was surprisingly easy to find Cassian. He nearly knocked you over with the force of his pacing as you rounded the corner into the hallway leading to the kitchen and dining room. 

“Oh, Y/N, hi,” he said, one arm bending to scratch the back of his neck. You could just barely make out a hint of red on the apples of his cheeks, though his tanned skin does a good job of trying to hide it. 

“Hey, Cassie,” you said. His name came out breathier than you intended. “I, uh, wanted to apologize.” Cas was quiet, clearly ready to let you say what you needed to say. He leaned against the wall, nodding at you to keep going. After a deep breath, you did. “I’m sorry for being so rude and dramatic. The bond snapped for me a while ago, and I let the pent-up jealousy and bitterness get to me. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’ll try to be better about keeping my thoughts to myself in the future. Just because we’re bonded doesn’t mean you’re obligated to be with me. Whatever you choose, I’ll respect your decision, I promise.” 

He smirked, pushed away from the wall, and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you standing there alone and confused. 

A minute later, he was back with a giant cookie clutched in one hand; your favorite. It was a little burnt around the edges, but smells perfect. He closed the distance between the two of you in three long strides, wrapping his free arm around your waist. 

“It’s you, it’s always been you, Y/N,” he breathed, leaning in until his lips hovered over yours for a few long, deliciously agonizing seconds before he pushed forward and captured them in a searing kiss.  

You respond, startled but thrilled, and get lost in each other. He pulls away and holds the cookie to your lips, and you almost bite into it before remembering where you are then take a step back with your cheeks oozing heat, pushing his hand down to his ease the temptation rising from your core, into your chest, and up your throat. After four years of lying dormant, the bond threatened to take control of your body. 

“We should probably go somewhere a bit more.. private,” you say, wrinkling your nose at the thought of someone, Mother forbid your brother, interrupting the frenzy. 

Cassian growled. Going to the cottage, he said to Rhys, melting his mental shields down just enough to let the message flow between their minds. 

Does this mean..? Rhys’s response is hesitant but hopeful.  

Yes, Cassian’s response is gruff. Keep everyone away. I reserve the right to tear any intruders limb from limb. 

He shut the connection, cutting Rhys off mid-cackle. His threat was genuine. Even just the idea of the frenzy has him boiling through his skin. 

Cas scooped you into his arms and took off running down the hallway. As soon as you burst through the back door, he pushed off and then you were soaring through the sky towards Windhaven. 

Towards your future with your mate.

Taglist: @esahintzkanen @loving-and-dreaming @lisanna2000 @jollyflowerkitty @graciepies @evergreenlark @Maewritez @aurorab99 @pescipiccanti @elissanatok @vanserrasimp @mich0731 @juniperberriesaries @sandramalikstyles @ivy-34 @thecraziestcrayon @pey2618

[lilystyles]

old friends.

part one of the no strings attached series by @lilystyles

no strings attached masterlist & main masterlist xxx

authors note i’m aussie so i have no idea what england/london (where this fic is set) is actually like. so if i get it wrong i apologise i’ve never been there! also, i know harry didn’t go to uni and became famous way younger than in this fic but for the sake of the plot pls ignore that! and gif credits to the original owner as always. make sure to follow if you want to see part two!

brief description harry and y/n are old friends who reunite and quickly pick right back up where they left off. new tensions arise and a deal is struck up.

warnings! mentions of sex, smut (m! receiving, dry humping, kissing, fingering), swearing, alcohol abuse and overall just a mature read. 5kish words (i didn't mean to make it this long whoops enjoy)

inexperienced!virgin!reader x fwb!harry

* * * * *

Maybe getting with him wasn’t the best idea. Y/n could admit that. 

She knew getting involved with one of her oldest friends and messing with the friend group dynamic was a dangerous game, they’d all been mates for years, and she had taken it into account before they struck up the deal. But there was just something about Harry that she couldn’t help but be drawn to. 

She’d known him since her they were kids. They’d grown up together from the awkward stages all the way up to now. He was this successful rockstar who the world simply adored, and she had always known he’d do something great with himself ever since she’d been old enough to comprehend the idea itself. She was studying still at university in a degree she loved. They had made it in this world! So far from their small village where they had dreamed up their futures. If only the two children could see them now. 

Though they were never best friends when they were younger they had always ran in the same circle and saw a lot of each other for as long as Y/n could remember it. It was only during University that they had become close friends. They had even been roommates for a year there. They both only knew each other then so it made sense for them to be together a lot.

Even through all those years, nothing had ever been more than platonic between them. Sure, Y/n had known he was handsome, and overall a lovely person but she knew that he was her friend more importantly. She valued that. She loved her friends, all of them. 

She’ll admit that there had been moments where she’d briefly thought of Harry in that way. Usually, when they were out drinking and he’d take care of her, only a few times when they were roommates and they shared late nights talking on the couch, but overall she kept it at bay. Knowing that friendship was more important to her than almost anything.

Not to mention Harry was a very loved man, he’d had many girlfriends in the years Y/n had known him. They had never particularly warmed to her, especially when they were roommates they all despised her. Honestly though, back then they had nothing to worry about. Y/n was too scared to try anything. 

But there was always some sort of tension there. Y/n never understood it really, not until a good friend of the both of them, James, said that it was just the way Harry treated her. He called her pet names, was constantly affectionate towards her (especially drunk), loved to make her laugh, and during Uni they were inseparable. When his fame skyrocketed she saw much less of him, understandably, and she got busy with her studies.

When he came home for a break from touring and showed up at the group’s Christmas party he saw her for the first time in about two years. They had drifted but not in the sense that it was awkward, more so that it was like when they saw each other it was like not a moment had passed. She smiled widely and stood up from the couch surprised to see him in there in front of her and not just splashed on a billboard. 

She was still Y/n, but she was older. She wasn’t in a baggy old shirt with her eyes glued to a computer typing away. She was here in a tight red jumper that showed a sliver of skin and a tattoo by her hip that he had never known about, with these jeans that hugged her perfect body. Her cheeks were just as rosy as before, her eyes just as doe-like, lips just as sweet only covered in a red gloss. She was still Y/n, but Harry felt like he was back in primary school when he’d pulled on her pigtail. She was fucking gorgeous and their history made it even better. He knew her well, so well. That would never change.

Even having not seen or heard from each other properly for nearly two years he instantly made his way to her and pulled her into a tight hug. His ring-covered hands were on the exposed skin of her lower back, as she giggled into his chest happily in a welcome surprise. 

His deep voice rumbled. “Hi, stranger.”

“Haz,” She sighed. It’d been a long time since he’d heard that nickname. She pulled back to look at him; he was just as beautiful as before, more tattooed, more glamorous but still the beautiful boy she remembered.

“Hi.” She said softly, eyelashes fluttering.

Nothing happened that night, not then. They just talked until the sun rose, catching up it was like no time had passed. He was still as charming and funny and she was still as coy and kind. 

New Year’s Eve was the next time they saw each other after reuniting. He found Y/n sadly sitting on the balcony of their friend Daisy’s apartment. She was in this little silver disco-ball dress with tall boots, a cigarette in her mouth. He’d been ordered by the others to find her. It was freezing out here.

“What are you doing out here, Love?”

She turned and he could see the glassy wash of her eyes. She looked so pretty, even when she cried. 

“Nothing.” She replied, shoulders slumped over.

“Missing the fun inside. Aren’t you cold, Babe?” His hand stroked her bare shoulder softly. He felt the goosebumps, and the warmth of his hand was welcome.

She shrugged. “I’m fine, H.”

“What’s got a gorgeous girl like you frownin’, hmm?” He knew why. Daisy had told him. The guy she had been dating recently had stood her up, without so much as a text. She’d checked his Instagram story to see he was off somewhere else with some other woman. It wasn’t that serious and after the Christmas party, she had questioned if she was even truly attracted to him. No one made her laugh like Harry, or feel so special. He made anyone feel like they were special.

“Harry?”

“Y/n?” He replied. 

“Be honest, I need a male opinion.” He walked towards her taking off his leather jacket to put on her body, she smiled up at him. Grateful for the warmth, the smell was comforting and suddenly it was years ago. The first time they went to a New Year’s party during University. Deja vu.

“Y/n, how do you wear such tiny clothes in this weather!” Exclaimed Harry. He was rugged up in a big brown wool coat, and a crimson scarf bundled around his neck, his jumper was this old led zeppelin one that Y/n loved on him. His pants were old flared jeans and he had some loafers on. 

Y/n looked up at him, they were on the balcony of an apartment complex. It was a few minutes until the countdown then it would be 2014. “Fashion is pain, Haz. C’mon. I look great don’t I?” She gestured down to her red dress which was a similar shade to his scarf. She had a tiny shawl over her shoulders but other than that she wasn’t prepared for the snowy evening.

“I can’t argue there but you are the biggest baby when you get sick, I can’t have you catching a cold.” He shrugged off his big coat and wrapped her up in it. It smelled of him; mint, cigarettes and a spicy woodsy smell.

“Says the one who I had to spoonfeed!”

“Oh shoosh. Now I need your advice about Mia she’s been eyeing me up all night….” 

“Of course, I owe you, you helped so much with my girl problems in uni.” He seemed to be thinking of that night too.

“Is…” She sighed and looked away from him to stare off at the city lights. The smell of his jacket was just like the wool one, the comforting mood was still there. “Is a girl- a girl being inexperienced…in bed…pathetic?”

He frowned, confused. “No of course not. A lot of people like to wait or don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t care, and that’s okay. It’s not pathetic at all.” Harry had a few drinks that night so he didn’t connect the dots straight away at what Y/n was saying.

“I’ve heard differently.” And she had, her experience with boys was sad.

He frowned before his eyes widened. He was honestly surprised. “Wait, Y/n, is this- is this about you?”

“Please don’t look at me like that, Harry I already feel pathetic enough.” She covered her face with her hands.

He got closer to her. “You are far from pathetic, Lovie.”

“You don’t understand. Anyway, you’ve had loads of sex your Harry Styles for god’s sake!”

“Y/n, define inexperienced,” He sat beside her, knee pressing into hers. 

She winced. “I’ve only ever kissed people, ‘never gone further than that. Never even had a boyfriend, you know that.”

Harry smiled, endearingly. She hadn’t changed, he felt like he was back in first year of university when she was complaining about how no guys asked her out. “So?”

“So the reason my date didn’t show up was because I told him I was a virgin yesterday.” It clicked now, the cold wind must have been sobering him up.

“He’s a total wanker. You are not pathetic by any means because of that. And anyway, virginity is a social construct to control and devalue women!” He said, angry at this guy who he’d never even met. It was like when one of the lads on the rugby team made a bet to get in her pants in their second year of university. 

He’d never been so angry.

“Really?” She said looking up with a frown.

He grabbed her hand giving it a tight squeeze, the metal of his rings cold against her warm hand. 

“Promise! It’s actually attractive in a way—” He was cut off by the door slamming open.

“Hey guys it's one minute till midnight!” Said Penny interrupting their moment, she rushed back inside again to hide from the cold. Motioning for them to join the rest of them inside. 

They could both hear the chanting inside. Neither made a move to go inside.

“10! 9! 8!”

Harry looked at Y/n, and she smiled gently at him leaning close to him. He tucked a strand of her hair back behind her ear.

“What happened to your date anyway?” She asked shifting the topic. 

He shrugged, to be honest, he didn’t know or care. Y/n had been on his mind the whole damn night.  “I think she went home.”

“5! 4! 3!”

“Oh.” She said, looks like they both had no luck this year.

“Can I kiss you?”

That caught her off guard, but she nodded when she heard the cheers for Happy New Year inside, remembering. “For luck, right?”

To be honest he’d forgotten it was New Year’s. When the final count happened he leaned forward and kissed her, it lasted longer than it should have between two friends. But they were too drunk to care.

When they pulled apart fireworks shot off in the sky. They watched in silence still close to each other, warmth radiating. They were in their own little world.

Y/n looked up at him when the fireworks stopped, a special look in her eyes. Mischief and drunkenness. 

“Do you want to come over to mine? I’ve moved since the last time you saw me…”

He smirked, a glint in his eye. “Let’s go.”

When they arrived at Y/n’s new flat Harry paid the cabby wishing him a happy new year. She was still wrapped in his leather coat as she waited for him impatiently on the path. She grabbed his hand to guide the way when the taxi drove away. She was on the third floor.

It was this old London apartment. Beautiful and in a really nice area. 

“You friends with everyone in the building? I wouldn’t be surprised, you are certainly a charmer.” He jested as they sat in the lift on the way up. Harry knew how she had a habit of chatting with everyone. When they lived together she made the entire floor gingerbread and Christmas cards. 

“Oh shut up, you’re the real charmer of us both. Girls scream when they see you walking down the street!” She pulled him inside. Taking off her scarf and boots before turning on one of the lamps. It gave a orange glow to the room.

“You know I don’t mind when girls scream.” He teased.

This made Y/n blush. He noticed and giggled at her pinching her cheek. 

“Oh, leave me alone.” She pouted peeling the coat off.

They took their coats off and hung them on the rack. Y/n showed him around the flat quickly. It was a vast improvement from her old place. Her old place was this shoe box, it was also in a really scary area which always worried Harry when they were friends. He helped her move in before he went on his first tour. She couldn’t afford anywhere as nice as this before. She’d kept a lot of her old stuff. It was certainly her place and if someone brought him here and he had to guess who it belonged to, he’d say her. 

First, he saw the living room. It had this great big red 70s leather couch with knitted rugs on top and a gorgeous original fireplace. He was surprised to see a photograph of the pair of them on the mantle above it. He walked over, they were probably 15 in the photograph. It was beside a few other old ones.

“Look how cute you look, Love.” He lifted it up and pointed at her face.

She groaned. “Are you serious? Look at my hair there! Was not doing me any favours at all.”

He turned to face her his hand finding her hair. “I’ve always loved your hair.”

Y/n kissed his cheek in response, it was more flirty and sloppy than she had intended. He kissed hers back. 

Then there was a moment where they just stared.

Until softly she spoke, “Harry?”

“Yeah, Babe?” 

“D’you wanna have sex with me?”

He was startled, his hand was still in her hair thumb on her jaw. “Do you?”

She flinched stepping away. “Sorry, that was stupid of me. But seriously you’re hot and funny, and I trust you more than any other guy, I mean who could be better for this? I’m drunk and your drunk, we can just say it was a one-night stand and carry on being friends, can’t we? Call it a drunken fling? A favour even.”

“Y/n—”

She was rambling now. “Oh no! You think I’m pathetic, don’t you? Begging you for sex? Jesus, what am I thinking? Look, let’s just blame the tequila and go to sle—”

He leaned forward interrupting her with a kiss to shut her up for a second. She froze momentarily until she decided to kiss him back, his hands slid down her dress as he pulled her closer to him. Her hands found his chest and the kiss began to deepen.

Only when Y/n had started to feel lightheaded did he pull away. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers grazing her warm cheeks. “Are you sure you want this?”

Y/n nodded. “Do you want to? Don’t feel pressured, H.”

“Of course I do. You’ve been my wet dream since we were in high school.” She giggled and flung forward pushing him back onto the couch.

“I am?”

Her hands found their way to his jumper and took it off him and he grunted in some form of agreement. She moved from his lips to his neck kissing down the column of it. Sucking on the adam’s apple gently, he sighed as his hands moved to the tops of her thighs. He was totally content right now.

For the first time in a while he was the calm one and she this was raw hungry energy.

“Why haven’t we done this sooner?” He rasped moving her hips against his thigh, she whimpered at the contact. His jean-covered leg had the perfect amount of friction against her thin underwear. She may have been a virgin but that didn’t mean she hadn’t fantasised a lot about this. If anything that only made it worse.

“I don’t- ah- dunno.” She sighed into his ear.

He felt a throb in his pants. It felt like a dream, a filthy one. One he’d probably had before. The number of nights he’d masturbated to something like this was too many to count. Y/n’s tits were at eye level as she humped on his leg needily and he thought he might just cum right then and there.

Her dress was hiked up to her hips and he could see the flash of pink lace, when he leaned forward to kiss her exposed chest he saw the hint of a red bra. 

She stopped for a second hands moving from his hair to his chest. “Can I touch you, H?”

“‘Course you can. Be good f’me and touch me.” She slid off him, her clit throbbing at his voice. All deep, rough, and dreamy.

On her knees, she placed a hand on either thigh gently rubbing them. Staring at the large bulge in his pants she grew nervous. The dim lighting of the living room meant it was hard for him to see her entire face but he could see her eyes widen at how large he was. 

“You okay there, Lovie?”

She placed her small hand on it, “‘M perfectly fine, Harold.”

His chuckle quickly turned into a choked moan when she palmed him roughly. She looked up at him for approval to keep going. “Yes,” He said, head thrown back on the couch.

She unzipped his jeans revealing black briefs which she’d seen him wander around in when they lived together. He liked to be free of clothes at home. But she had never seen him fully naked before.

She slid her warm hand in there, Harry hissed when she wrapped her hand around his throbbing cock, he felt so sensitive to her touch. 

“You sure you want to do this, Angel?” She could feel how much he wanted her. He was throbbing and heavy in her hand. His body was begging for her but spoke softly with no pressure. 

“Harry, please, I really want to.” She sighed staring up at him, feeling the weight of him heavy on her hand.

This had to be a dream. He thought. She was literally on her knees begging for his cock in her mouth. Big e/c eyes looking up at his face. 

“Needy,” He teased knowing he was probably worse right now. “touch me.”

She didn’t care if she seemed needy the feelings she was having right now were too much, she pulled him out and it sprung up hitting his bare stomach. Her thighs clenched and Harry noticed, smirking.

“Jesus Christ, Harry.” She said in disbelief, hands itching to touch him, “No wonder you always act so cocky,”

He laughed throwing his head back. “You sure you want to keep going?”

“Yes, but can you..” Suddenly she had gotten all shy again, like on the balcony. Embarrassed as if she hadn’t been humping his leg moments ago and whining in his ear for him to make her come.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, baby. Say what’s on your mind.”

“Can you…” She paused again.

“Can I what?”

“Can you show me what to do? Tell me. I mean I want you t’feel good, but I’ll probably be really bad at it. I’ve never done this.”

His hand touched her cheek, thumb stroking her face. “Whatever you do I’m sure I’ll love it, I’ll tell you if I don’t like it. Just try, m’not going to judge. Don’t worry, I’m just your old friend Harry.”

“Just Harry.” She confirmed, easing the anxiety in her stomach a bit.

“Good girl.” He praised gently and she leaned forward kissing the pink tip of cock. He let out a hitched breath. 

“You okay?” She asked.

He looked at her confused. “I didn’t ask if this was okay with you. Do you want this?”

“Y/n it’s more than okay.” He replied breathlessly at the sight. “I’m so fuckin’ horny for you right now.” He laughed lightly as if this was a normal thing to do with an old friend. Like it was just a catch-up. 

That was all the confirmation she needed before spat on the head and began to stroke him with her hand, the natural lubrication making it easier to go fast. She really only knew stuff from porn. Which was always just intense and messy deepthroating. She wondered if Harry wanted her to be like that. But honestly, she wasn’t sure she could take all of him her mouth. He was just so big. 

He was moaning quietly as she kept a steady rhythm. One of his hands was squeezing the couch tightly and the other was holding her free hand that touch his knee. It felt so good. 

When she leaned forward and licked a long strip along the length of him, he groaned running a hand through his messy hair. “So good Y/n,” 

Y/n loved how vocal he was with her, it eased her worries about being bad. It made her wetter than she could imagine.

When she began to actually suck him he went feral. His hands move into her hair holding it from her face, he had to stop himself from moving his hips up and fucking her mouth. He knew he needed to be gentle right now, but it was feeling too good to believe. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/n, you’re too good at that.”

He was moaning every second and every time he let out a particularly pleasured noise Y/n made sure to do it again. Harry opened his eyes and looked down at the sight below him, Y/n’s dainty red-painted hand was stroking the part she couldn’t fit in her mouth and every now and then cupping his balls, her tongue was lapping up every inch of precum that dripped out of him. Kissing his thighs and cock whenever she came up for air. Her red lipstick was smudged and her eyes watering. 

Her legs were clenched together and every time he moaned she got wetter for him, she could feel it dripping down her thigh, she was aching to be touched and honestly, this would be something she would masturbate to later. 

She was steadily jerking and squeezing him just the right and even amount, as she grinned wickedly up at him.

“You sure you’ve never done this?” He said, whimpering when she licked up another drip of precum.

She laughed. Harry had to say she was better than he thought, not because he thought it would be bad. Simply because most people make the mistake of being too rough and using teeth or being too soft and slow. Y/n was perfect and attentive, she’d learnt in mere minutes how to get him absolutely fucked. He could hardly keep his eyes open. 

She began sucking again this time going a bit further, testing her limits. When her nose felt the tickle of hair on his lower navel, she came back up breathing heavily and repeated it a few more times. Harry was moaning even louder now.

“‘M close,” He gestured for her to stop so that he’d finish on his stomach, but she didn’t stop, she went a bit faster. He somehow felt even closer to cumming when she didn’t move, meaning she wanted him to cum in her mouth, just the thought was enough to drive him over the edge. She did a mix of everything she’d been doing and Harry was getting louder and louder each second. It took everything in him not to thrust up and push her head down. 

It was the eye contact that got him to finish. She looked up with absolute adoration in her eyes, enjoying her view of his heaving chest, and he couldn’t help himself.

When Y/n felt the hot spurts of his cum fall down her throat, his hips jutted in pleasure. He hadn’t been able to control it. He cried out, “Y/n, fuck!”

When she finally pulled away cum dribbled down her chin and she quickly swiped it on her thumb, holding eye contact as she sucked it. “Mm.” She said. 

He felt limp and breathless. “C’mere,” He said and grabbed her. Her knees ached but she didn’t care, knowing they’d be bruised tomorrow. He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her, she was surprised by that. She’d heard from friends that a lot of guys really hated to kiss after a blowjob but Harry had not one single care.

“Your fuckin’ perfect, Y/n.” He said flipping them over as he kissed down her chest. “Can I touch you now, please?”

She nodded.

He stopped looking up, “Words, baby,”

“Yes. Of course, you can.” She said. “Get me out of this please,” She gestured to the dress and he obliged happily, throwing it across the room and nipping at her skin. Kissing every stretch mark, scar and mole. God, she was just perfect. 

“You are so beautiful, Y/n. And that mouth,” His thumb touched the bottom lip.

She blushed. “Oh, shoosh.”

“I’ve never cum so hard in my life y’know, I mean it.”

She giggled. “Really?”

“Yes, now accept the compliment and let me help you out.” He almost ordered and she obeyed. 

He sucked on her neck, nipping at it as she hissed, he soothed her by swiping his tongue back over that spot. Her hands were scratching his back as he moved down to her lacey undies. A pink bow stared back at him. 

He touched the waistband fiddling with the bow. “Cute.”

“Thanks, H.” She replied, trying not to shy away. 

“He’s an idiot.” Harry muttered mostly to himself, Y/n frowned confusedly. 

Her hand moved from his back to his hair, gently touching him. “What?”

“That wanker who stood y’up, I mean fuckin’ hell, did you do all this for him? Got all sexy n’ wear these jus’ f’him do that ta’ ya’?” His words were slurring more, he was so drunk on her and tired from his orgasm.

She sighed, “It’s for you,” she whispered. If the flat wasn’t dead silent he might’ve missed it. 

“Say that again.” 

She looked down at him. “I- It’s stupid, Harry, forget it.”

He moved away from her soaking underwear. “No, tell me.”

She shut her eyes, knowing how stubborn he was, and that didn’t change even in the bedroom. “I did it for you. It’s always for you.”

“All this for lil’ ol’ me?” He teased her loving how shy she got even after what she’d just done to him. “Beginnin’ to think you only want to fuck me.” He bit the waistband of her underwear and she couldn’t take it anymore.

He knew that wasn’t true but he loved to see her roll her eyes. 

She whined, “Harry, please.”

“Please what?” He looked up at her. His green eyes were mostly just pupil now. 

She tugged his hair, “I need you to do something, please, just help me,”

“Shh, Love, I know.” He took the underwear off and saw the mess between her legs. Another thing he’d be jerking off to later, her inner thighs were soaked and she was dripping. His middle finger slid up the lips collecting the messy slick. 

“For me?”

She sighed, with a shiver. “Only you.”

He began to rub her clit at that comment, feeling her throb against him. She was whimpering and moaning softly and it was just how he imagined but even better. Her hands tugged his brown locks and he moved a hand to her mouth. Holding up two fingers, ring and middle, against her lips. 

“Suck please.” He said softly. He didn’t think they’d need it considering there was a damp spot underneath her already, he just liked to watch her do it. 

When they were wet enough he pulled them back out and slid one inside her dripping hole. She cried out, 

“Shit.”

He pumped slowly, letting her grow used to the sting. “Yours are so much bigger than mine.” She whined desperately. 

He began to pick up the pace when her hips moved against his hand and slowly added the second finger when he felt she was ready. When she began to squirm from the pleasure he used his other hand to hold her hips flat and he kissed her stomach every now and then.

Offering words of encouragement. “Yes, that’s it, you can take it.”

When she began to grow closer he could tell by the way she clenched around his fingers. 

She whimpered when he gave a rough circle on her clit. “Fuck me Harry, feels so good.”

He started to go deeper and harder, feeling her drip onto him. “So perfect like this. Takin' m' fingers.” 

He was taking mental pictures so he would never forget her face. All fucked out and filled with pleasure. When he curled his fingers inside her, grazing that spongey spot that made her scream and curl her toes, she moved a hand to his wrist not stopping him just in a warning.

“M’ close, H.”

He smirked. “Cum for me, Baby.” His other hand found her clit and sped up the process. It was seconds later that she felt it come on, a wave washing over her entire body. 

“Fuck! I’m coming!” She cried body twitching and squirming wildly as he helped her through it. 

“Harry!” She screamed, and he felt her squirt all over his hand as she finished. 

Once he finished helping her ride it out he stopped, slowly pulling his hand away and looking up at her. Her eyes were shut and she looked completely ruined. He was happy with that, it meant he’d done his job.

“You okay?”

She opened her eyes. “I didn’t know I could ever feel that good.” She said seriously and he smiled. 

“Was m’pleasure, Love.”

When she sat up, she noticed how wet his hand was and the dampness beneath before her eyes widened in embarrassment. “Oh, I’m sorry that’s embarrassing I didn’t mean to—”

“Embarrassing? Please Y/n I nearly came my pants. You’re so fucking hot. Look at you. Delicious.” 

She kissed him pulling him close too shy to say anything more.

“Do you want to stay the night?” She asked when she pulled away. He nodded and they, still kind of drunk, made their way to her bed stripping off the rest of their clothes and flopping into bed. 

He grabbed her and pulled her into his chest. “Happy New Year, Babe.”

“Happy New year.”

The following morning Y/n woke up alone in her bed. Her head thumped angrily punishing her for last night. She began to wonder if it was all a drunken fever dream but when she got up to wash her face she saw the hickey he’d left her on her neck, and she saw that the bathroom was slightly damp, meaning he’d had a shower before leaving. 

She tried not to feel hurt at him leaving without a goodbye but she did remember saying last night that it would be just a one-time thing as friends. She didn’t know what she expected really. She had a quick shower washing the night off, she was sticky and smelt of sex. 

When she got out she wandered into her kitchen in just a towel sluggishly, bent over to see the contents of her fridge all she had was off milk and a leftover Chinese takeaway container. She was hungry. She sighed, knowing she’d have to go out and buy food. When she turned she jumped letting out a small shout. 

Harry was sitting at the table with some coffee and pastries, he’d scared the shit out of her.

“Jesus! How long were you there?”

“The whole time, waited for you to notice me. I got us some food and coffee, didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

She suddenly felt subconscious in just this small towel, in the daylight. Her eye bags were probably heavy and she doubted she looked pretty. He noticed her squirm.

“I hope you don’t mind that I used your shower.”

She shook her head memories flooding back from last night. She felt embarrassed. “‘Course not.”

“I’m gonna change I’ll be right back.” Before he could say anything else she’d left. 

When she came back in a knitted jumper and some red boxer shorts she’d bought for sleep, he smiled up at her. “I got your favourite, well, I hope it’s still your favourite anyway.”

He’d even gone to the effort to put it on a little china plate. It was a custard danish pastry. She smiled butterflies flooding her tummy, she placed her hand there without noticing before she turned to him. 

“You didn’t have to do all this, H. I know that it was just a drunken thing we did. You don’t have to be so nice to me. I understand how these things go.”

She remembered the times she’d have to pretend Harry was out when all he’d done is hide in her room until the girls from the night before left their flat. 

He looked up, slightly hurt by that. Did she really think that of him? “You’re my oldest friend, I wouldn’t do that.”

She frowned before sitting beside him and grabbing the coffee he’d brought. “Things won’t change, right? We are still Y/n and Harry, aren’t we?”

He placed a hand on her thigh. “Of course, always, bun.”

She smiled up at him taking a bite of her pastry, some custard falling down her chin. Harry got a flash of last night of her moaning his name and he wondered if what he said was true. Would he be able to move on from this?

if you enjoyed this feel free to check out my masterlist here! xxx feel free to request me!

[adventuringblind]

I See Your Beauty

Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader

Genre: a little angst mixed with fluff and comfort

Summary: the youngest Verstappen is forced to do life without her vision. Thinking she might not be able fully experience her life due to the remarks of her father, she concedes that finding love is unlikely. Until she runs into Charles who helps her believe she doesn’t need her eyesight to be loved.

Warnings: Jos is his own warning now. Talks of disability and reader having an accident. Talks and depictions of verbal and physical abuse.

Request: nope this is self-indulgent. However, I am taking requests for Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, and Daniel.

Notes: written in third person. Also, this fic deals with disabilities, particularly blindness. I myself am blind though I still have some vision left, which is mainly what I’m basing this off of. Please remember that blindness is a spectrum like many other disabilities. It is defined really by a loss of vision that can’t be corrected. I’m open to answering questions about it if y’all have any. My inbox and asks are always open :)

Masterlist

The youngest of the Verstappen’s very close with her brother, Max. The two are barely a year apart so it makes sense. Though they get in each others nerves often as well. Victoria doing her best as the oldest to settle arguments between the two.

Jos decided that two children in racing gives him better odd then just one. Electing to have both start karting at an early age.

They liked racing together. Getting used to being each others rocks when their father was harsher then necessary. It became routine for the two to defend each other.

Then everything changed.

The two were moving up through the ranks. Competing harder then ever to make your dad proud.

The accident wasn’t her fault. A consequence of her father from trying to build a faster car and not having test run it.

The engine exploded during the race. Every one of her senses ranged useless as she tried to react.

Ears ringing.

Smoke from the fire burning in her nose.

Blood from whatever hitting her knocking her teeth into her lip.

Heat nipping at her skin.

Lack of sight making her steering erratic.

Max had immediately rushed to aid his sister. Their father only staring in disappointment. He became resentful of his father that day.

The ambulance arrived and took you away. Max begged to go with but Jos ignored his request, telling him he needed help cleaning up his youngest daughter mess.

After hours the finally arrived back home. The other two Verstappen’s confused why the youngest was nowhere to be found. Max finally broke down in tears, much to his father dislike, and clutched Victoria for comfort. Telling her everything that had happened.

While three of them went to the hospital to find you, the fourth sat wallowing in disgrace at the display from his children today. He couldn’t admit he’d made a mistake. One that might have cost him a child.

Meanwhile the youngest was out of surgery. Continually crying for her family. The nurses had tried to reach her father who had given the medics his cell number, but they had yet to hear from him.

When her family arrived she tried her best to make out their faces. The sparks from the engine had been so bright that they burned her retinas. The combination of the fire doing permanent damage. The impact of the engine had knocked her helmet almost all the way off and she instinctively pushed it away to try and see again. The protection of the visor gone.

The three siblings cuddled together in her hospital bed. The youngest not fully comprehending why she couldn’t see. The lights were too bright. She was squinting to make out the small details.

Things didn’t improve after that. Jos became angry towards her. Constantly reminding the girl of what happened, what she did wrong, and how if she hadn’t messed up she might have been successful.

Regardless, she listened to him berate her at everyone of Max’s races. He stopped commenting about Max when she was within earshot. Mostly because she told him off every time he insulted her brother. Jos already deemed her the disappointment of the family, standing up for Max couldn’t possibly make things worse.

Max had also gotten more protective of his sister. Having been the one to pull her away from the wreckage and cleaning up the damage made him realize he didn’t want you to get hurt again.

He made it to every doctors appointment he could. He attended as much physical therapy as you would let him. He even put on a blind fold so he could understand a bit better. He helped her learn cane skills and how to guide you himself. All in an effort to help his sister feel less alone.

He was aware she still had some eyesight lift. Mostly cloudy and bright patches dotted her eyes making it difficult to make out where things are and any specific details. She liked seeing what she could of her siblings faces though.

Max determined he was going to bring you to every race with him. The Verstappen losing all ability to drive now making things harder for her and she didn’t want to stay with her father.

Victoria had a room for her in her house and let her stay when she needed. Max always made sure there was a room for her if she wanted to travel with him. She loved how willing her sibling were to help her out. However, it left her feeling useless and vulnerable at times.

Eventually, Max helped get her a job with Redbull as a strategist. She enjoyed playing with the different data. Listening became a more essential job then seeing.

Race days were spent in the garage unnoticed in the back. Hopefully out of view of the cameras and away from her father. They saw each other often, much to her dismay. He always had something to say to her when Max wasn’t around.

It was during her downtime that she met Charles.

~

Deciding her cane was unnecessary since she knew her way around the paddock and the ground is relatively flat, she went to hunt down her brother.

Neither party was paying attention leading to them running straight into each other. She could vaguely make out the Ferrari red race suit standing in front of her. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” Came the voice of Charles Leclerc. Though the two had never formally met, she had heard during interviews enough to know his voice.

“It’s alright, neither was I.” She smiled at the Monegasque. “Have you seen Max anywhere?”

He chuckles. “Unfortunately no. Are you his girlfriend?”

The question makes her laugh hysterically. “I’m his sister.” She can hear him sigh in relief at the clarification.

“That’s better at least because I wanted to say that you are very beautiful.” The playfulness in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. Completely taking her off guard. Sure she’d gotten complements, but not often enough to make her used to them. The words of Jos not letting her believe them anyway. “Would it be alright if I give you my number?”

She lost all words in that moment. This had never happened before. “Sure-” she manages to stutter out before handing him her phone. The screen reading out things to her so she could get to her intended destination.

“I’ve never see a phone do that before.” Charles takes the phone from her and starts to put in his information.

She mentally face palms herself. Obviously he hasn’t realized she’s blind. “Actually I don’t have much of my eyesight.” She play with the bottom of her shirt. Her father having instilled in her that her blindness is something to be ashamed of.

“Wait- so you are blind? That is very interesting, I would like to know more if you’re okay with it.” The curiosity in his voice rising.

She wasn’t prepared for this. Nobody asks her questions about her condition. Even Christian doesn’t touch the subject and she never brings it up in conversation. “I guess, if your really interested.”

“Great, I’ll see you later tonight. Send me the address of where you’re staying.” His playful and flirty manner never faulted as he walked past her. Leaving the girl confused and blushing.

Little did she know that Charles had seen her around the paddock. Mostly hanging off of Max’s arm. He assumed she’d never notice him wave or try to get her attention. Turns out she couldn’t see him. He knows better then to assume. He blames it on the anxiety of being around her.

The youngest Verstappen finished up her duties as quick as possible. Catching a ride with her brother back to the hotel. He has learned to read her though and immediately noticed something was different. “What’s going on with you? You seem very smiley today.” He laughs.

“I can’t tell you because you’ll hate me.” She did her best not to appear nervous but was ultimately failing. Her hands fiddling in her lap.

“I could never hate you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She glances over at him. Eyes planted on the road. His calm demeanor putting her at ease. “Charles Leclerc asked me on a date tonight.”

Max begins laughing hysterically. His once smooth driving now a bit jerky from his sudden movements. “You thought I would hate you because of a date?”

She stutters a bit. “Well- aren’t you two rivals?” She manages. His laughing throwing her emotions all over the place.

“Sure, on the track. Off the track we are still friends and I trust him.” He explains. Relief floods through her body at his words. Her confidence in the situation going up a little.

She can feel the smug look on Max’s face. “Do you want help getting ready?”

~

The two siblings spent over an hour playing dress up. Max eventually having to video call Victoria and ask her opinion. The two trying to make their sister feel like she owns the world.

Dressing is less tricky then make-up. Sometimes she didn’t feel like it was worth the struggle and didn’t put it on. Some day she had to call Victoria to make sure everything looked right. If there was good lighting she was typically fine, but tonight was not one of those nights.

Growing up between two sisters, Max had learned a decent amount about make-up. He even enjoyed getting to do it on his sisters if they would let him. The almost squeal he let our when his sister asked for help was both hilarious and ridiculous. Immediately setting things up on the bathroom counter and going to work.

Max could tell his sister was anxious. Their father having scared away any of your potential boyfriends. Even going as far as to tell they that she is diseased. One of the worst things about having Jos around the garage, is that you’re left with him.

Though Max has stepped in many time and even lectured his father about his word choices, he never let up on any of the Verstappen children. All of them getting some aspect of their father’s insecurity thrown back at them like it’s their fault.

When he was done, Max tried to sooth your nerves. “Dad isn’t around. He’s in his own hotel room. Go have fun.”

And that’s exactly what she did.

The conversation between her and Charles flowed. He asked questions that weren’t invasive and was respectful if she didn’t want to answer. He made her laugh ridiculously hard.

So they kept doing it. She had to follow Redbull for work which made things easier in the two. Finding down time to meet up or celebrating together after races.

After the season was over, the two went on a holiday together.

Charles spent a good amount of time learning from her (and in turn Max) how to guide if the need ever arose.

Charles was so gentle with her. Always letting her know if there was something unexpected around. Telling her who was in the room.

If felt like a dream. One she never wanted to wake up from. Charles had assured her multiple times that she wasn’t dreaming and that their love is very real.

But alas, Jos likes to make things difficult.

~

A few races into the new season, Charles still had yet to formally meet Jos and the Verstappen siblings intended on keeping it that way. It wasn’t secret. Everyone in the paddock know the two were dating. Jos just hadn’t had the chance to talk to him yet.

She’d mentioned her childhood a few times but could never get out the full extent of what happened. Charles thankfully is patient with her and lets her take her time. He knows Jos’ reputation. Her childhood couldn’t have been the most amazing with him around.

This particular race, she was forced into close proximity with him. There had been a mistake during a pit stop for Max which made him lose some positions. Ending the race in fifth. To her it isn’t bad at all, but to the angry Dutchman unleashing his fury on everything, it most certainly is.

Sensing his rising anger, she had pulled her father into a more secluded area. Hoping that Max wouldn’t come back to the garage for awhile. At least not before she could talk some sense into their father.

She said nothing as strings of curse words left his lips. Only waiting for him to run out of breath.

“Did you see how he got lazy? He would’ve finished higher after the idiots didn’t do their jobs if he had put in more effort.”

“Max put in all his effort and you know it.” She scoffs. Arms folded over her chest. This is nothing new to her.

“Like you have any room to talk.” He snaps back. Her head now sagging, knowing his anger is now finding a new direction.

Charles, on the other hand, had been looking for her. It’s his first win of the season and she is nowhere to be found. Max ran up to him as the podium celebration ended. Patting him on the back for his well earned win.

“Have you seen your sister anywhere, mate?” He asked the Dutch.

Max ponders for a moment. “She might still be in the garage debriefing after what happened.” He replies. “I can walk you over if you want.”

The two drivers made their way to the Redbull garage to find most of those who would normally be inside, standing outside in a huddle. “What the hell is happening?” Max shouts over to Christian as the two approach him.

“I was just about to go find you.” Christian sighs in exasperation. “Can I call security on your father? He hasn’t stopped shouting since the race finished up.”

Charles and Max exchanged glances. The young woman’s absence now making more sense. “I’ll try and talk him down.” Stated Max before weaving his way through the sea of Redbull shirts. Charles following close behind.

Before the two could get further away, Christian yelled out to them. “Good luck, your sister has been trying!” The statement make the two move faster.

Charles could feel his emotions bubbling as the shouting got louder. As him and Max turn the corner, he immediately spots who he’d been looking for. Tears rolling down her cheeks as she felt around the floor looking for something.

Max steps in between her and the angry Dutch, shouting back and forth in their native tongue. Charles tries to spot what she’s feeling for. Scanning the ground until he spots her phone. The entire thing shattered. Small pieces of glass just barely reflecting the light. He’s down by her side in an instant.

“Love, it’s Charles, max is here also, I’m going to get you out of here okay?”

Her body turns towards Charles. It’s then he notices the specks of blood dotting her hands from feeling around the glass and a deep purple bruise forming on her forehead.

She’s struggling to breath now. Listening to the angry shouts. The pain in her head and the bright fluorescents not helping her see anything. She back in the crash.

Her father had spend from the end of the race until now laying into her. She had successfully defended Max and thought she was prepared to take the brunt of it. Until he snatch her phone and threw it at her. It hit her head so hard she was in the ground in seconds. Trying to feel her way around to where it might have gone so she could call Max.

The words were so familiar to her. The ones she heard in her nightmares when she was once again surrounded by smoke and bright lights stealing away her vision.

“I don’t want to crash again Charles. It’s to hot. It hurts too much. I can’t see anything.” She tried to search for him but ended up with more glass in her palm. The tears only thickening.

“Stay put, okay? I’m going to help Max and then I’ll be right back.” He didn’t want to leave her on the floor. She looked like a child, and so did Max in this moment. The two getting their fathers wrath with no end in sight.

Charles sprints back to Christian, yelling at him to call security, then sprints back to Max.

“Mr. Verstappen I think you are out of line here.” Says the monegasque. Signaling Max to stay with you. He didn’t move at first but it was obvious he was getting nowhere, so he obliged. Kneeling down to help his sister calm her breathing.

Jos scoffs at Charles. “You have no right to get in between me and my children.” Anger pooling from his features.

“I mean no disrespect sir, but you’re being an asshole.”

“And is she-“ he jabs his finger at the girl on the floor, “-not disgusting.” Charles almost hits him but refrains from doing so knowing security will be arriving soon.

“On the contrary, I think she is an angel.”

“She’s diseased. She hasn’t even tried to fix her mistakes. Look at her! She just wants attention for what she did to herself!”

Now Charles doesn’t hesitate to punch him. His fist colliding with Jos’ jaw, sending him stumbling into the wall.

Max took his attention off his sister, who was leaning against him, and placed it on Charles. Shock clearly evident of his features.

Jos attempted to confront Charles again, but security finally showed up and escorted Jos out of the paddock.

Charles exhales, glad the confrontation is over. “That’s not how I imagined meeting your father for the first time.” Charles chuckles nervously.

Is doesn’t take much longer until Charles has his love safely wrapped in his arms. Whisking her away to his hotel room. Max had stayed ti make sure everything got cleaned up at the paddock. Kelly arriving shortly with Penelope in tow, ready to comfort Max.

She cried when they were finally safe inside. Pouring out to Charles about the accident and what it had caused in her life. He listened intently, doing his best to soothe the girl. Her panic still clearly evident.

Soon enough she’d calmed. Her head laying in Charles lap while he threaded his fingers through her hair.

“It don’t care what anyone else says. I see your beauty and it is not defined by what you can’t see.”

[thewritingofspencerrose]

Crumbling Down

carlos sainz x Piquet!wife oc & secret family

this is meant with no real negativity to cs55's girlfriend rebecca, and only discusses her in a slight poor light due to plot reasons.

Private Account

verity.sainz a perfect break with my whole world before flying is restricted once more by baby #4 🤍

carlossainz55 mi corazon ❤️

f1wags and we're back to race week with the first public appearance of Carlos Sainz's new girlfriend!

fan1 WHY DOES HE HAVE HIS EYES OPEN WHEN THEY KISS?

"Carlo," I can't help the crack in my voice when I say his name, "You said you would say no to them. You said you wouldn't abuse our desire to keep our private life private like this."

"Mi amor," The pet name hurts, something that used to make my body buzz with joy making me want to cry harder as I wrap my arm around my rounded stomach. "They were insistent, I've never had a woman come to the paddock outside my family and they say I needed to change that."

"You haven't gone with a woman because we decided to remain private! We didn't want to pressures of the world! So we got married, and then we had Carlos and Junie and then they were each too young to go, and just as we were about to announce the family, I got pregnant with Flora and now with Tilly-"

"Tilly? As in Matilda?" He asks, interrupting my emotional rate with a tone that is too close to joy. "You found out the baby's gender?"

We had picked out names. This wasn't how he was supposed to find out.

"Yes, she's a little girl," I admit, "The kids and I had a whole plan how to announce it once you got home."

"I can't wait to see what you have planned," Is his answer, the sounds of the garage around him getting slowly quieter as I can only assume he moves towards his drivers room.

The idea of him coming home after kissing her to kiss me, to kiss our children's foreheads, makes me want to be sick.

"At the moment Carlos, I can't promise the kids and I will be here when you get home," I whisper, the truth slipping out like razorblades. "I think we're going to go see my parents."

"Vera, you're not meant to be flying. We were cutting it close with out trip as it is," He answers, voice strong and commanding.

"That's what's upsetting you? The fact that I will be traveling and not that I've just told you that your wife and children won't be home to greet you when you return because you're parading around another woman? Because when Carlos and Junie put on the race to see their father they'll see her name with yours underneath?"

"Verity, you know that's not what I want-"

"Then why did you agree? Why did you agree after I cried to you about how the idea of you with another woman made me ill?"

"It was for a good reason," His answer is hesitant, and you can tell he doesn't mean it.

"I hope the reason was enough for you, Carlos, because I can't keep letting you love us in the dark. We'll be with a friend since you're so concerned about me traveling." He did have a good point on that matter, but I can't help but say it before hanging up, not giving him a moment to respond as I waddle my way to the living room, dropping myself on the couch.

"Mamá?" Carlos III's voice calls, his head of hair like his fathers sticking out from behind the hallway wall, "Que occure? (What happened?)"

"Oh my baby, nothing happened," I try to assure, attempting to get all the tears off my cheeks before he can really notice.

"Mamá," He prompts this time, sounding entirely fed up with my response as he moves into the room, such a serious look for a seven year old. "I heard you on the phone with Papá. What has he done?"

"Something that you do not need to worry yourself about mi mundo (my world)," I assure, pulling him into my side as he gets close. He curls into my side, hand resting on my stomach as he's done with his other sisters.

"Hola Tilly," He greets her, placing a quick kiss to where he feels her kick before looking up to me, his father's spitting image. "We're going to stay with Grandma and Grandpa?"

"No, you're father made the point that I can't travel anymore, so we're going to go see if tia Kelly and prima Penelope are up for some visitors, yeah?"

"I'll go get my suitcase and start packing," He agrees, giving me a small smile as he moves to get up. I know I'll have to repack his suitcase later, but as he runs off, all I can be is grateful for this little angel who blessed us when we were young and unprepared, much to my fathers chagrin. But my kids are who keep me together as I dial my sister's number, tears coming to my eyes when I hear her voice.

"Vera? Honey are you crying?"

"Kel, can the kids and I come visit?"

"Always. P will prep her toys and I will prep the guest rooms."

"What the fuck were you thinking," The angered Red Bull driver shouts across the paddock, storming towards the Ferrari drivers who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Max, what's-"

"This doesn't involve you, Charlie," The Dutchman silences, eyes blazes of fire as they move to the Spaniard who's practically his brother-in-law. "You brought your girlfriend to a race and expected that to go well with your wife? The mother of your four children?"

"Tell me you did not," Charles chimes in, unable to keep the words from slipping out of his mouth at news. He had seen Carlos with a woman earlier, but had only assumed her to be a new member of his media team.

"It is none of your concern, Verstappen. What happens between my wife and I is just that."

"And I'll respect that when your actions aren't broadcasted to the entire world and having Vera call Kelly sobbing saying she's packing up the kids and leaving," Max fumes, Carlos's expression dropping at the knowledge. He had known that she was upset, that she had threatened to leave, but he thought it was just that, a threat. Not that she would actually leave the home they had designed together in Nice.

"After this race you better fix your fucking mess, because I will enforce whatever Verity wants, whether that is keeping you away from her and the kids or not."

And the Dutchman storms off, not waiting for a response.

"Kelly, I am only here to see my family."

"Carlos, you've been in our family for nine years, by law seven, but I can promise you that if Vera doesn't want you here, you will not be entering this apartment," The elder Piquet daughter warns, eyes angered by the mans simple presence.

"Kel, can I come in?" Max questions, not wanting to answer her more but also hoping to embrace her and Penelope, any week without them feeling too long.

She smiles at him, having missed him as well but her expression quickly steels. "Not if you are bringing him in with you."

"Kelly," I finally interrupt, having enough of seeing her scold my husband through the door as I breastfeed Flora. "You can just let them in, but please warn Max that I'm feeding Flora," I request, hating the idea of making the man uncomfortable in his home.

"You're okay, Ver," Max offers, his eyes immediately meeting my own and not leaving as Kelly opens the door, him and Carlos entering. "Kelly and I are actually going to go say hi to the kids, I've missed P and all of them," he says, kissing my sisters lips in a quick peck.

"Is Flora done? We could take her with us?" And it's like Flor could understand her aunt's question, because she's unlatching on cue, allowing me to pull up the piece of my top to cover myself and nod to Kel.

"Would you please? She just needs to be-"

"Burped," Max finished, taking my current youngest into his arms, kissing her head as he moves her to his shoulder. "Between P and my nephews, we've got this covered. Just let us know when you're done," He offers, kissing the side of my head.

"Thank you."

"Anything for family," He just smiles, the expression falling when he turns to Carlos who has been frozen in place. "Say the wrong things and your ass will be on the street before you can say forza ferrari."

"Sí- I mean, yes, of course," His eyes meeting mine before his next words leave his mouth. "I just want to talk apologize my wife."

"Right then, let's go say his to the kids," Kelly prompts, the two walking out with Flora in hand, the cheers of the kids upon seeing their uncle and P seeing her father figure making my heart warm.

"Mi amor, you have no idea how sorry I am for agree to the teams request for even a moment," Carlo apologizes, his body moving towards mine, taking the spot beside me and my hands into his own. "I went back to the team, they've posted an announcement saying that Rebecca and I are not together, and I gave them a photo of us from our wedding."

My heart beat fastens, his eyes meeting mine as his fingers start to fiddle with my wedding band. "Why would you do that?"

"I am having it announced that before my start in formula one I have been madly in love with you. That over those years we have married and created a family in private that I love," He explains, a hand coming to cup my cheek, running his calloused thumb to wipe away the tears that have begun slowly running from my eyes. "I no longer want to hide you. We can keep the kids to ourselves until they're older, but now everyone knows I am taken by the love of my life."

"Carlo," I can't help but whimper, flinging myself at him in a hug. "Te amaré hasta que ya no respire (i will love you until i am no longer breathing)."

"And I, you, mi amor," He assures, kissing the top of my head. "I am more sorry than I could ever put into words."

"You've fixed the situation, Carlo, we can work from this," I smile, little giggles alerting us to our observers.

And wrapped around the corner, piled on top of each other, our children's heads and niece's head are stacked, Junie's under her brothers and Penelope's in between. It's only a moment later thought that Flora appears to be floating on top of Carlos III, Max and Kelly's heads slowly appearing as well.

"Estan bien mamá y papá? (Are you okay mama and papa?)" Juniper questions us, Carlos III placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Sí," Carlos Jr answers, pulling us into a sitting position. "Ven aquí nuestros amores (Come here our loves)." Their little feet carry them strong and fast towards us, gently climbing on top of us, minding my stomach as Kelly approaches us, now holding Flora and resting her gently against my chest with a smile. "We are okay, Papa made a mistake but he has started fixing it and I will be working to so for a time."

"As you should," Carlos III digs, making me smile slightly.

"We love you all," I remind, kissing eaches head, including Penelope. "And we love each other. No matter what, things will work out and we will love you all," my little girl giggling brightly.

"Nosotros tambien te amamos mama (we love you too mama)."

[ttulipwritezz]

King Of My Heart (Body And Soul)~ R. Lupin.

Chapter  3 - Helpless 

Ootp! Remus Lupin x Sirius's sister!Reader

Synopsis: When James and Lily died, and your brother was sent to Azkaban, Remus was the only person you had left. Until he left too. What happens when he returns after the events of Sirius's escape, only to find out you have a son? A son that's his.

WC: 2.2 k

Warnings: lots of italics, probably grammatical mistakes, kiss(es), might be ooc idk, child (?), fem reader, italics are flashbacks and thoughts ( idk), love (ew), Sirius is back, mentions of torture, abuse, walburga black, abandonment, fear of feeling helpless, screaming ig, abandonment [ look at series masterlist for all content warnings]

A/n: I am actually so, so proud of this chapter. It's slightly longer than the others and a little more angsty. LOTS of conflicting feelings. Remus is kind of an ass, but no one's perfect :) But I’ll have it be less sad in the next few chapters following ch 4. I think? Thanks for reading and please reblog and/or comment. If you like this :) likes don't do much on tumblr <3

Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist, Navigation

With a furrow of his brows, Remus glanced towards Sirius when the two of you made your way to the dining hall for the order meeting.

If Sirius noticed, he didn’t say anything. Molly ushered the children out of the hall and Kingsley started the meeting.

They began with new information and ended with assigned missions. With your absence from the order for so long, you seemed to be the least informed amongst them all. So far you knew that Kingsley worked for the ministry and was secretly helping lead the order under Dumbledore's guidance.

And that there was an incredibly intelligent woman at the end of the table. Nymphadora Tonks. Don’t call her that though.

The name Tonks was awfully familiar to you. Until it clicked. She was your niece! Your cousin’s daughter.

Oh how she’d grown up. 

Along with this, you got to know about Peter’s betrayal and how he had framed your brother. Peter… You really did treasure his friendship at one point. You grieved him just as you had the others. To know that he was a traitor and sent your brother to Azkaban and was partially responsible for your husband's leaving, left you seething, to say the least.

You wanted to crush that thick skull of his with your bare hands.

 Noticing your discomfort, Sirius put a hand over yours, so as to say…you’re okay.

~

“you’re okay. You’re okay” At this point you weren’t sure whether Sirius’s words were meant to convince you or convince himself. His chest rising and falling rapidly to accommodate his frantic state.

Walburga’s yelling could be heard from the other room.

“YOU DISGRACE! YOU IMBECILE! GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!” Her yelling did little to calm your trembling and even littler to quiet your sobs.

You do not know what began another one of her scoldings, you don’t remember what you’d done to be on its receiving end yet again. All you knew is that Sirius was punished with the cruciatus curse and you were going to be next. Despite his state, all Sirius thought about was you. How his baby sister was hurt, scared and in so much pain.

That night Sirius left, with you, nothing but his wand and jacket hung about his arm as he led a trembling you out of the house and ran.

That night Sirius ran, he ran till his legs burned. His calves ached and his chest heaved. He ran and ran and ran. He ran to the only place he could think of. He ran.

“Don’t you dare come back! You disgrace to the Black Family name!” Walburg’s words were still ringing in his ears by the time he made it to potter manor, and you weren’t in a much better state yourself.

As soon as the door opened to the frantic knocking, it seemed as though all the adrenaline left Sirius's body and he collapsed right into James's arms. You stood there, eyes stinging, heavy with exhaustion. That was when you truly felt helpless.

~

The next morning, you awoke to voices. Not the ones in your head, ones from outside. With little energy you opened up your eyes. The brightness of the morning sun blinded you for a moment, and that suffocating feeling came back.

You sat up so fast that your head started to spin. Your eyes were wide and your breathing erratic. 

As you were ready to look around your surroundings, ready to see exactly where Walburga had put you again, a hand came into your field of vision. A bruised hand, ready to help.

Sirius gently hovered his hands over your cheek, careful as to not touch you. His eyes held the utmost kindness and compassion. He had woken up from one too many nightmares himself.

“Y/n?” His voice was unsure yet it provided you with the comfort you seeked at the moment.

Your shoulders relaxed and you Jumped forward to embrace him. You were safe, you were okay.

Once most of the order members left, You began to count just how many people will be staying at grimmauld place for the time being.

You had a place further away from this merlin forsaken house. That felt like home. This didn't 

You and Regulus had only shown up a couple days ago to tidy up and be prepared. Technically, you owned it, and there was nothing your mother’s portrait that hung in the second floor corridor could do about it. She was dead.

The Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and Sirius were all staying, there was more than enough room for them. What you dreaded was Remus’s presence. 

Gathering up all the courage you could, you decided to talk to Remus. No time like the present! Should be a piece of cake!

Wrong.

Remus avoided you every chance he got. And you can’t blame him. 

Okay...perhaps you were avoiding him a teeny, tiny, itty, bitty bit as well…

Okay! you were avoiding him fully.

But you can’t blame yourself! It’s hard.

What are you supposed to say?

“Oh hey husband who left me to process severe trauma and grief on my own..you have a KID! He’s 13! You know him already! :D ”

Making faces at your inner monologue wasn’t helping though, because you jumped the moment your eyes caught a figure leaning against the doorway, right arm up against the arch as the other finds purchase on his hip.

Remus.

Remus, your husband, was watching you make faces at yourself to talk to yourself for the past..you don’t know how long.

For a moment you just stared at each other, blinking and making no noise.

Then a smile broke out on his face, which subsequently led to one on yours.

He was the first to break the silence.

“So…How are you?” he pursed his lips after he spoke.

Strange, you considered. That’s how he begins a conversation?

Your eyes move across the room, he’s staring straight at you. It feels like he can see right through you. That he can see the gears turning in your head.

“I’ve met Regulus before…At Hogwarts, I mean. I was his DADA professor.” He says after noticing your silence.

Getting a noise of affirmation from you in return encourages his to speak further.

“Who is he? To you? I know the name isn’t exactly new” His head tilted to the side in the way a kicked puppy's would. 

From where you’re standing, in the little light, you can see his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he gulps, nervousness obvious throughout his being.

You don't lead with “he’s your son”. No. You begin short and simple. 

“He’s my son.”

You hope your voice doesn't reflect the fact that a lump has formed in your throat. You hoped your voice wasn't trembling like your hands.

A look washes over Remus's face. One you’d describe as recognition…or perhaps disappointment. In you or himself, that you wouldn't know.

Being from the Black family, you never hid your true thoughts. Feelings? sure, but thoughts? No.

“Disappointed are you? In me or yourself?”

There was a sass to your words you didn't expect. Once again a smile seems to tug at Remus's lips, stretching the scar, you didn't recognise yet, ever so slightly.

“Ever the witty one, my love” his words were airy. More relaxed.

Certainly too relaxed for your taste. There was no way he was so apathetic towards this. Not when it hurts you like a thousand hexes.

“Don't.” 

You don't know what gave you the sudden strength, the sudden courage, to stand your ground. What made you narrow your eyes and cross your arms.

What made you suddenly reject the light atmosphere he had created, while you so clearly longed to be in his arms. Heaving a sigh, you continued.

“You don't get to just come back and call me your love. You can't do that to me. Not again.”

Your voice was but a mere whisper towards the end of your sentance.

Not again. That's what you told yourself when you saw Remus this morning. You weren't going to throw yourself into his arms again. 

But how could you not when his arms just looked so warm and comfortable?

How could you when you’d spent fourteen years without them?

You were hoping he’d pick up the forgiving glint in your eyes and apologise.

His gaze flickered throughout the room. As if somehow that would answer you. First the lamp, in the furthest corner. Then the carpet caught his attention. Then suddenly the marble countertop seemed oh so interesting.

After what felt like hours, but really must've been a minute, he began to break the silence.

“Right…uhh-”

You watched as he paused, a divot appearing in between his brows, scrunching together, as a look of realisation crossed his features.

“-how old is he?”

The words escaped him with urgency, as if knowing this was extremely crucial.

It was, you just didn't know that.

“He’s fourteen- will be this year.”

Your mind was racing with thoughts, surely Remus wouldn't need to ask something so trivial.

It felt as though you could see the gears turning in his mind. He was so deep into thought.

But then his eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened.

“He’s mine.” He wasn't asking though, despite it sounding more like a question than affirmative.

That, you didn't expect.

And now you were the one who’s gaze was skittering across the room in hopes of finding an answer.

He knows. He knows. Oh Merlin he knows!

“He’s mine.”

Remus repeats, his voice comes out choked. As if he was ready to cry any moment.

Hearing a sniffle, you looked up to see Remus bringing his hand up to his face, which was rather red, and covering his eyes much like a little kid would.

You felt horrible, how could you hide this from him.

No. You did the right thing. He didn't want you. He wouldn't want Regulus either. He left! Awful. Awful! Bad!

“I have a son?”

You could definitely hear the tears in his voice, his light, choked up sobs echoed through the room. 

Hey, that's how you reacted when you found out too. 

You felt the sudden need to apologise. You shouldn't have to.

“Yes.” 

You settled on that. Yes. That's all he needed to know.

A flurry of questions bombarded his mind.

“Why didn't you tell me?” 

He looked angry. Why was he angry? He has no right to be angry.

You were furious.

“Why do you think Remus? Why do you think I hid him from you? Are you that daft!?”

 An incredulous chuckle accompanied your words. You were seething. And you weren't done, so you continued.

“You left me! James and Lily died! My brother was sent to Azkaban. And you left!”

Your volume was rising by the second. You're certain a little more and the whole house would hear it.

Maybe also hear the sound of your heart breaking along with.

You felt ridiculous. How is he angry at this? He has no right.

“If you’d told me I would have stayed! How long had you known!?”

If you told him.

He wouldn't have stayed for you. He would have stayed for the kid.

Not for you.

“Two weeks before-”

You managed to get out before he interrupted you.

“And you didn't think to tell me!?”

Why did he have to say it like that? Like he hated you?

It hurt.

“I tried.” 

Your chest felt heavy as you uttered those words. It felt like a wound had reopened.

Once again you were meek. You felt like a child being reprimanded by their parent. You've had a fair share of that already. You didn't need more.

You felt...helpless.

This was your husband. He wasn't supposed to be angry at you.

Suddenly all the feelings you’d been shoving down came right up.

“No Remus. You have no right! You cannot come back after years and pretend that we are fine! I did the right thing Remus. And I will not have you make me believe otherwise.”

You felt ridiculous. Yet again, he has made you feel small. That didn't happen before. 

Remus, your remus always made you feel loved. And seen.

This isn't your Remus.

“I don't know who you are. I know I did the right thing. I know…”

Right?

You shook your head as you spoke those words, you seemed to close in on yourself. Backing away until you couldn't. You can't do this right now.

His words seemed so collected when he replied. As much as they could, when he had been sobbing a moment ago. They still held anger in them.

“But I am his father.”

A gasp echoes through the empty corridor.

Not yours…

Regulus's.

"He is my father?”

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[ladywuvly]

♱ love bites pt.1 (vampireslave!simonriley x princess!f!reader)

summary|| The world stands divided, witnessing the dawn of a fierce civil war between mankind and vampires. Since the day you were born, your father, the king, has dedicated his life to mastering the art of manipulating the masses. However, his relentless pursuit of power has overshadowed everything else. Nevertheless, when a pale-faced servant is introduced into the castle, an inexplicable connection draws you towards him. wc: 6.8K

warnings|| MDNI; 18+ content, violence + mentions of, blood, swearing, abuse, slavery, child neglect, human trafficking.

masterlist. socials. recs.

It was the day of your birthday, a day that should've brought you joy and excitement. Yet, it wasn't as if turning a year older, granted you any additional control or responsibility over your own life.

Instead, you found yourself trapped in this house castle you called home. Surrounded by a series of unfamiliar faces, royal servants, and a new tutor every few months.

Isolated from the other children your age, a burning desire for freedom consumed you, as you watched them get the life you wanted; the life you yearned for.

While they were allowed to live freely, you were imprisoned inside this mansion. Locked away in your bedroom, walls covered in lavish decor. Shelves and dressers filled with things you rarely used - makeup and perfumes rarely touched, dresses and linens you dreaded to even wear.

You were merely a marionette, dressed up and down, manipulated at your parent's whim, while others turned a blind eye at your misery.

Although, what did you expect, you were a princess after all.

Marianne suddenly entered your bedroom. Crossing the threshold gracefully with her eerie ambiance of mystery and allure.

Marianne had been your mother's handmaid for as long as you could remember. She had been a gift to your mother, from your father, long before you were born.

Flawless porcelain skin and deep captivating red eyes that set her apart from the rest of the other servants around the castle.

Time seemed to have no effect on her. She had not aged a single day in all of your years. Frozen in time at the age of 26, and was, considerably, the only consistent part in your life. 

Marianne laid out a dress for you. Placing it down carefully on your bed as she continued to busy herself around your bedroom.

Your head turned at the sound of her voice and you looked up at her sympathetically. "Do I have to go?"

Leaning back as her hands playfully combed through your hair, fingers gliding smoothly through your freshly brushed strands.

"It's best to get it done and over with." She said calmly.

As you made your way down the stairs, you took a moment to calm yourself before entering the dining room sheepishly.

Your father was seated at the head of the table, your mother beside him.

Catching sight of you, he swiftly fished his pocket watch from his coat. "You're late. I don't have the time to wait for you."

You followed your father outside to the waiting carriage. Accepting the kind hand offered by Louis, your chauffeur, and settled into the comfortable seats. 

The ride dragged on, perhaps it was on account of what awaited you, upon your arrival. It baffled you at how things had reached this point.

Once the existence of vampires was revealed to the world, they were immediately labeled as a threat. Dangerous creatures of the night that lurked amongst the shadows. Monsters hiding among men.

On contrary to popular belief, they didn't burst into flames when exposed to sunlight. They weren't threatened by garlic, or crosses, or holy water. They didn't die from a stake to the heart and they were certainly not undead.

Although, they appeared pale in complexion, possessed immense strength and heightened senses, and required a dietary supplement of blood to survive.

It would be unfair to label them as monstrous, and you refused to believe this was the only way to live alongside them. They had once been people, just like you were. They experienced emotions and suffered pain.

Sure, it was different from the typical ways of the 'living' world. Still, that didn't justify enslaving their entire race.

It was argued that it was the only method to ensure humanities safety. Claiming that without it you’d be vulnerable, unprotected. Nevertheless, you wouldn't embrace the idea that this was the sole approach to a harmonious existence. 

Soon the carriage came to a halt and your father got out. You peered out from behind him, surveying your surroundings before stepping onto the muddy road.

You trailed behind him into the building, entering a large auditorial room where the auction would be taking place. That familiar nauseous feeling swirled in your stomach as he led you to your seats near the back of the audience.

You anxiously looked around the room, taking in every detail. Within a matter of moments another man strode across the stage, approaching the podium.

The room became silent in anticipation as he began to speak. His words fell deaf to your ears, drowned out by the unsettling start of the auction.

Your eyes remained fixed on the stage. Witnessing as one after another, was forcefully brought out.

Both men and women, hands bound and feet shackled, appeared before the crowd. Some looked more heavily mistreated than others.

What disgusted you even more was the lack of empathy displayed by those around you, not even flinching as each individual was auctioned off to the highest bidder.

The sight was repulsive, and you couldn't bear to raise your bidding paddle held tightly in your hands.

As the auction began to come to an end, your father seethed at you through his barred teeth. "If you do not bid, I will do it for you."

Reluctantly, you shifted your gaze back to the stage, as another man was being dragged out.

He stood with an imposing height. Towering over the both men who held him captive at either side. His shoulders wide, and the shirt he wore did a poor job at concealing the dried blood and dirt that clung to his pale skin.

Your eyes couldn't help but linger on him, captivated by his presence. Despite his greasy blonde hair that fell over his eyes impedingly, it didn’t mask the strong features of his face.

He pulled away from the man on his right, earning a painful kick to the back of his legs that sent him collapsing onto his knees.

With his hair serving as a makeshift restraint, his head was raised. Lifting his chin defiantly, revealing his face in all its glory to the many interested onlookers among the audience.

His appearance was striking and as strange as it seemed, you couldn't help but feel drawn to him. His rugged face, marked by dirt and blood, still possessed an undeniable beauty.

Soon bids were being placed, and although the thought of purchasing this man in front of you seemed unfathomable, you couldn't resist impulsively raising the paddle high into the air.

"13,000! 13,000 for..oh, and well if it isn’t the Princess herself, ladies and gentleman!" The entire room turned their attention from the auctioneer to you, causing you to squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

As you looked back at the stage, the man's gaze locked with yours. His eyebrows furrowed harshly and he shot you a piercing glare causing your heart to ache. 

"He's going to be difficult to break in." Your father disgruntled.

"You told me to bid."

"13,000, going once! Going twice! Sold to our Majesty and the Princess!" Your father rose from his seat, you instinctively followed. Waving and smiling as the men and women in the crowd erupted in applause.

As you glanced back at the stage, a wave of dread washed over you as you watched them forcefully drag the man away and out of your sight. Sorrow-filled, you tore your gaze away and hurriedly followed in his footsteps.

As he stood by the reception desk, meticulously filling out paperwork and a bill of sale. Your attention was drawn to the two familiar men who had been escorting individuals on an off stage.

They seemed to be engaged in a conversation with your father, he discreetly offered them a few coin each, before he turned and handed you a pen.

"What’s this for?" You ask, your voice filled with uncertainty. "Ownership papers." His reply caused you to freeze.

It was hard to believe that this was actually happening. You would be this man's owner. He would become your possession.

"Father… I-I'm not sure if I can-" You stammered, your voice trembling.

"That's enough." He said, silencing you.

It was astonishing, how effortlessly your father made you remember just how easy it was to hate him. He had managed to portray this as nothing more than a point of sale, stripping away all humility.

Swallowing down your tears, you leaned over to hastily scribble your signature at the paper’s edge. Every letter and each stroke of the pen, another stab wound to your heart.

You dropped the pen as if it had burned you, walking out of the building and leaving your father inside. 

As you caught your breath out on the sidewalk, a laughing bunch of children dashed by you. Joyfully passing a vibrant red rubber ball amongst each other.

Their contagious laughter brought a fleeting smile to your face, but it soon faded as rearing envy flooded your chest. You longed to once be part of their innocent joy.

Your father appeared from behind you and as the carriage arrived he promptly took his seat without bothering to spare you a glance.

You took a moment to look for where they might have placed the man of such impending size. It would be difficult to hide a man of his stature, even on something as grand as the royal carriage.

As you glanced at Louis. He met your gaze before casting his eyes behind him towards the rear.

You cautiously approached the back of the carriage, stealing a glance around the corner to catch a small glimpse of him.

There he was, shackled securely to the luggage rack sitting upright on the short, compact shelf.

You swiftly glanced over your shoulder, ensuring that your father hadn't caught you gazing inquisitively at the cryptic man.

"Princess?" A gravely, somber voice broke the silence.

Startled, you jumped in surprise caught off guard by the sudden sound. Turning back to face the man who remained bound in place. 

You approached him cautiously, his appearance became even more unsettling. Although his face remained somewhat concealed, the deep scars that were etched into his skin were too distracting to ignore.

The long jagged scars that scattered across his face. Remnants of a past wound ran across his nose. His face, a roadmap of strength and survival.

Cutting deeply over his lips like a badge of honor. Saw-toothed and jagged, narrowly missing his eye, dividing his eyebrow and cheek with a single stroke, which only added to his allure.

Each scar, a testament to a life lived, resiliently.

Your eyes welled up with tears, brimming and threatening to overflow. The feeling of self-disgust washed over you, utterly ashamed at what you had done. The depths you had sunk, purchasing him as if he were mere property.

"Everythin’ a’right there, Princess?" His voice was hoarse and deep, sending a shiver down your spine. Never before had the sound of someone's voice evoked such a whirlwind of emotions within you.

"Don’t call me that." You snapped, feeling far from deserving of such a title. At the moment you felt nothing like a princess. A princess was strong, courageous, and compassionate, someone who helped others, not oppressed them.

He seemed familiar with the tone of your voice and with a stern expression turned to look away. "No! I-I’m sorry. I just… I just hate being called that." You stammered.

"Then wha' is it I call you?"

Your ears hummed in pleasure, as he played with your name a few times under his breath.

"And you? What shall I call you?" You asked him nervously.

"Anythin' you please." He gazed at you intensely, causing you to shyly glance down at your hands.

"No, I want to know your name." You insisted, shaking your head.

"Simon." He stated sharply.

"Simon…" You repeated, before anxiously biting your bottom lip. Mesmerized, you couldn't tare your eyes away from his intense crimson gaze as it slowly drifted down to your mouth.

The sudden sound of your father's voice calling your name caused you to gasp, releasing your flushed lip. Shattering the moment, you turned your attention towards the front of the carriage.

Glancing back at the mysterious man. "I’m sorry, I’m truly so sorry." You panicked, stepping away, rushing to take your seat.

As you made your way back to the castle, the ride was filled with an eerie silence.

Once you’d arrived home and stepped out of the carriage, the sound of jingling chains caught your attention.

Your father disappeared into the castle, leaving you alone with Simon. Watching as Louis released him from his restraints.

You couldn't help but feel the stir of curiosity and anger emanating from his gaze, freezing you in place. 

Perhaps it was the countless years of torment he endured, that over time had hardened his natural state.

He stood tall, towering over your own figure. He was incredibly intimidating, and with each passing minute, the thought of fleeing became increasingly tempting.

Simon possessed an imposing build, with muscles that commanded attention. His blonde hair was too long and unruly, but that only added to his overall delphic demeanor.

However, his facial hair proved to be quite distracting, diverting the attention from his striking features.

His tattered clothing barely held together, falling apart at the seams, while his feet remained bare.

Your boots protected your feet from the sharp gravel stones, and although you were aware that he didn't experience pain in the same manner as you did, it still must’ve been somewhat uncomfortable. His overall appearance upset you.

"I’m sorry." You mumbled softly, casting your gaze downwards in shame.

"You keep apologizing."

He sounded annoyed, angry, his tone filled with irritation.

"I don't know what else to say." Closing your eyes to keep the tears at bay. With a shake of your head and a sniffle, you took a deep breath to compose yourself.

The sound of hurried footsteps on the splintered rock caught your attention. You turned to see Marianne as she made her way towards you.

It only took a call of your name for you to run to her. Enveloping you into her warm embrace, cradling your head into her chest. 

Overwhelmed by the intensity of emotions you broke down, no longer strong enough to hold back your tears. Sobs racked through your throat, causing your shoulders to tremble with each wail of grief.

In that moment, Simon's presence faded into the background. With tender gestures and the gentle stroking of your hair, Marianne comforted you. Her soothing words reassured you, easing your tears.

"Louis?! Louis?!" Marianne's voice rang out, beckoning the man who had disappeared for only a moment.

"What has happened?!" He exclaimed angrily, his accusatory gaze fixated on Simon.

"He’s done nothing." Marianne interjected, her voice calm yet firm. "You're well aware of the princess's nature."

Simon remained stuck in place, utterly surprised at your sudden outpour of emotion.

Throughout his years, he had encountered countless young women, but witnessing, a princess of all people, weeping uncontrollably in the embrace of someone who, by all appearances, shared his vampiric nature, seemed unfathomable.

Marianne regarded Simon with an inscrutable expression, her gaze impossible to decipher. "Louis, escort him to the bathing chambers. See to it that he is cleaned and attired appropriately before bringing him to the princess's quarters. We shall await his arrival there."

She instructed, gently tugging at your weeping form as she led you towards the grand castle. 

"Goodness Marianne, it was absolutely awful." You said once you had distanced yourself from the men, finding the courage to explain yourself.

"They were all beaten and chained, some of them so weak they couldn't even stand on their own. It's sickening that I participated in such a thing. Heavens, I bought a man."

Tears continued to stream down your face as she guided you indoors. "It's alright now, my dear, don’t worry. All is well. Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?"

Simon squeezed into the porcelain tub, sinking comfortably against its back with his arms draped over the sides. He’d cut his hair, shaved his beard, and meticulously scrubbed all the dirt off his scarred skin, leaving it free from any traces.

As he indulged in the soothing warmth of the water, his mind wandered back to you.

Your wide tear-filled eyes that glistened as you looked up at him. Lashes that appeared fuller as they clung together from the tears cascading down your flushed cheeks.

The remembrance of your disheveled state, stirred a sense of melancholy deep within him.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he submerged himself beneath the water's surface.

Despite the fact that Louis had provided Simon with the largest clothes he could find. With his impressive height and broad build, they still seemed to be slightly too snug for his frame.

The shirt appeared to be undersized. It fell short, just below his hips, and was a bit snug around his shoulders. On the other hand, the old pair of boots that were given to him fit perfectly.

Louis guided him through the castle and when they finally reached your door, Louis left him standing in the hallway. Simon stood there for a moment unsure about what might lay beyond the door. 

Sitting in your usual spot by the window, your lace-up heeled boots lay untied on the floor beside you. Sensing a change in the room, you turned around, anticipating Marianne. However, you were surprised when you saw Simon approaching.

Finally, with his hair cut short and his face clean-shaven, you could catch a glimpse of his true self. Though, his presence seemed so estranged in your feminine room.

You stood up, suddenly anxious. Yet, his height startled you and you took a clumsy step back, accidentally hitting the wooden bench with your heel, causing you to awkwardly plop down onto your rear end.

As soon as Marianne stepped in, you quickly stood back on your feet. Gently smoothing down the fabric of your skirt, attempting to alleviate the shakiness of your hands. 

Simon obediently sat down into a chair not too far from him upon Marianne's request, and you gracefully resumed your own seat as well. Simon found it peculiar how willingly you followed Marianne's instructions.

"Simon, you are not t- Marianne..." You interjected, cutting her off.

From the moment you entered your bedroom, you had made it clear that she was not to address him in the same manner as the other servants.

Marianne let out a sigh before starting again. "Hello, Simon. My name is Marianne, the queen's lady-in-waiting. However, for all practical purposes, I have been taking care of the princess since she was a young girl."

Simon glanced back and forth between the two of you, catching your gaze as you observed him from your perch by the window. 

"To ensure a seamless transition, there are just a handful of guidelines you need to adhere to." She informed him.

"Firstly, you will be residing in the servant chambers. Louis will assign you daily tasks to keep you occupied. Once you complete your duties, you are free to engage in any activities of your choice. Feel free to explore the castle grounds, take care of the animals and crops, or anything else that keeps you busy." She continued.

"However, you must always be attentive to the Princess herself. For you are to be devoted to her." Simon glanced in your direction, immediately catching sight of your somber expression, despite your attempts to hide it from him.

"It is strictly prohibited to enter the west wing of the castle. The library and ballroom, on the other hand, can be accessed with prior permission from the king, queen, or the princess." She finished. 

After she’d gone over a few more things she’d eventually excused herself.

Once Marianne left your bedroom, you followed her to the door, closing it behind her. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you turned back to face Simon.

Marianne had encouraged you to make an attempt at talking with him. It wasn’t everyday a pale fresh face was introduced to the castle.

You found him standing in the middle of the room, his expression filled with uncertainty. "You have questions."

There was a brief moment of silence, before he suddenly spoke, taking a chance on your unusual demeanor. "Do I 'ave permission t'speak freely?"

"You don't need my permission to do anything." You replied honestly, yet, intrigued by his request. 

"Neve' met someone like you." Simon paused, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

Yet, his words caught you off guard, causing a blush to creep up your cheeks. "What do you mean?" You asked, genuinely surprised by his confession. 

"All m’years, I've met thousands of people..." Simon explained, his tone filled with a mix of vulnerability and obligation.

"Ya’ see, I have been tortured, beaten, punished, abused..."

A lump formed in your throat, and tears welled up in your eyes as he confessed. "Stop that..." You whimpered softly, your voice barely audible.

"...but the first day I meet you, you apologized for nothin’." His voice remained steady. "You call me by my name, and allow me to call you by yours..." He stated in confusion.

"Simon.."

"I am at your command, your highness. I will not deny it... Simon, don't..."

You couldn't help but stare at the floor. Your throat constricted, a heavy lump settling in it, making it difficult for you to speak.

Simon's words struck a chord within you.

"I never wanted things to be like this." You confess, taking a step closer to him, unable to keep your distance.

"I never wanted to be trapped within these walls, raised by guards and maids instead of my own parents. Told how to dress, how to behave, how to speak, even how to feel. Forever alone, mocked, ridiculed..." Closing the gap between you, you continued. 

"I may not know what it is like to be one of you, and I can never truly understand the pain of what you've been through, but I do know what it's like to have no control over your own life. To have every decision made for you. So, when I apologize, it's not for nothing. It's for everything. Everything that has ever happened to you because of me..."

As you stood just a step away from him. His face, a mixture of confusion and bewilderment.

"...so I find myself apologizing, repeatedly. Even though I know you may not believe me. I can no longer continue living this facade. Pretending that everything is okay, when it's far from." You let a breathless laugh escape your lips.

"I refuse to treat you in the same manner as my father would, and I was only at that stupid auction today because he insisted I had to be. So, please understand that I cannot treat you with anything less than kindness... and nothing you do or say can ever change that." 

As you looked up at him, your hand softly touched his forearm, which dangled lazily by his side. Looking up at him, his captivating eyes met yours, an unbreakable connection.

They portrayed a deep sense of astonishment as you confessed, causing you to avert your gaze shamefully. However, you couldn't help but look back at him, wanting to appear courageous in the presence of such an overwhelmingly, intimidating man.

Simon was bewitched, an enchanted feeling he had never experienced before consumed him completely, leaving no doubt in his mind at your sincerity.

Initially, he had pictured you as a spoiled, immature, arrogant princess, who'd come from a privileged, lavish life. Someone who had everything handed to them on a silver platter, attended private classes and never missed a lesson.

Although, as he gazed at you, he saw the complete opposite.

The rosy blush on your cheeks, a beautiful indication that your heart pumped with life, and the sparkle in your eyes revealed a shimmer of hope for the future.

At your chest tightening confession, Simon realized that despite where he came from, an environment filled with poverty and hardship, where tainted hands met violence and hurt, you'd still welcome him with kindness and warmth. Something he hadn't felt since he was human.

"Please, do not make this difficult for me." You pleaded with him.

"I'm certain that the years you remain here will fade in comparison to the rest of your life, but it will be my entire existence."

Little did you realize just how wrong you were. Simon was already well aware that his time here would trump all the years he'd existed.

He knew that you, would surpass all the people he'd spent his everlasting eternity with.

The past few months remained somewhat peaceful. You had yet to ask much from Simon, other than helping hand here and there.

To be truthful, you were slightly embarrassed at your initial introduction of yourself, and your thoughts on the whole situation made you reluctant to ask things of him. However, that didn't mean you weren't observant.

Despite both of your seemingly busy schedules, it didn't deter you from watching him closely as he worked.

Tending to the horses and other animals in the stables. The times you witness him and Louis engaged in deep conversation.

He was truly a captivating sight to behold. You'd study him, working away, out in the fields, watching as he effortlessly hoisted those hefty bales of hay.

A task which would typically require the strength of two mortal men, he made, seem like child's play.

On hotter days, there were moments when you would catch him clad, in nothing but a pair of trousers and boots. His tunic-shirt, casually tossed over the fence as he tirelessly carried on with his work.

It was during these days, you'd take your time when admiring his naked upper body. With strong, powerful muscles rippling beneath scarred, sweat glistening skin. He was undeniably breathtaking.

He'd once asked you for permission to use the library and you had assured him that he no longer needed to ask your approval.

In fact, you'd even told him to let anyone causing him trouble know that it was you who had granted him access.

You'd ran into him a few times there, when gathering books your instructors told you to bring along to class.

Conversations were always short, neither of you talked very much. Simply a few brief, fleeting words regarding what each of you were reading or how you had been passing the time.

Once you began to feel anxious or perhaps even a bit flustered, you'd politely excuse yourself. Scurrying off to find solace in some deep, hidden corner of the castle.

Simon always found you incredibly strange. He was well aware of the fact that he had captured your attention, as he could feel your eyes fixed on him during numerous occasions.

In fact, he would often find himself going the extra mile just to amuse you. Whether it was casually removing his sweat soaked shirt or deliberately taking a bit more time to complete his tasks, knowing that you would be watching his every move.

It wasn't until your father had confronted you about your tutors' complaints, regarding your lack of focus during lessons. How they'd caught your attention slipping, or how easily you got distracted, often gazing out the window lost in your own thoughts, 'daydreaming' was what they'd called it.

As a result, he summoned you to his study, where he proceeded to ridicule you about how childish you were being. To waste their time and his precious coin on classes that you so stupidly couldn't comprehend, or didn't have the mental capacity to follow along. 

His words cut like a knife, devoid of any kindness or compassion. His only purpose, to shatter the illusions you had created in your head, and to demand your undivided attention.

You quickly left his study, tears streaming down your face. Hurriedly, rushing through the grand halls of the castle. Your sole mission was to reach your bedroom, where you could finally surrender to the comfort of your bed and release all the pent-up emotions through a torrent of tears.

Yet, you were interrupted at the top of the stairs where you'd collided with someone with such force, you thought it would surely bring you both sprawling to the ground.

Instinctively, you threw your hands out to catch yourself, only to find them resting against a solid chest covered in well-defined muscles. A strong arm encircled tightly around your waist, keeping you from collapsing onto the ground in a puddle of tears.

Simon had spent quite some time in the library, secretly hoping he'd encounter you. Unfortunately, luck was never on his side. He'd abandoned his pursuit, making his way back to his quarters when he suddenly caught the sound of your hurried footsteps. The rampant rhythm of your heartbeat, and the unmistakable, sickly scent of your sorrow.

There were only a few things Simon found enjoyable about being what he was. Among them, was his heightened senses. With his newfound sense of smell and enhanced hearing, he had the luxury of knowing exactly how a person was feeling.

On occasion, he was able to catch the skipped beat of your heart, when he paid you a subtle compliment and the, oh so, delightful scent of your arousal that filled the air when he'd 'accidentally' brush up against you.

However, in this moment he didn't find it quite as appealing. The sight of freshly fallen tears, cascading down your flushed cheeks, and the sound of each wet breath you took in an effort to compose yourself, which had no effect, had Simon's chest constricting.

"Your highness? What has happened?" The sight of your distress caused a surge of anger coursing through him at the thought of someone causing you pain.

The unexpected appearance of Simon caused you to feel a sudden sense of relief. As his rough, calloused fingertips gently brushed away the tears streaming down your cheeks, and as his words registered in your mind, you shook your head.

Taking a large step away from him, distanced yourself from his comforting embrace. You swiftly wiped away any remanence of your tears, before crossing your arms tightly over yourself, in an attempt, determined to comfort yourself.

"Nothing. I am just being childish, that's all." You reassured him. Putting emphasis on childish, in reference to your father's patronizing words.

Simon tried to cheer you up teasingly. "Ain't a princess not suppose' t'lie?" Unfortunately he hadn't had much practice in the matter and his attempt only seemed to make things worse.

"You're right. I'm sorry-I just..." Your voice fractured, like delicate glass as you started to apologize, but he interrupted you.

"No. No, 's not what I meant." He said gently. Confused, you looked up at him. "You don't need to lie, not to me."

Reaching out, his fingers delicately brushed away a wayward piece of hair from your face, tucking the stray strand behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

You inhaled deeply, preparing to speak, the words escaped your lips softly. "I'm falling behind in my studies." Simon would've asked why, but deep down, he feared he already knew the answer. Him.

"'s trivial." He said, attempting once again to displace your worries.

"To you." You sighed, while he simply hummed in response.

"Suppose."

Simon was never one for words, so he thought of something else that might cheer you up. "Come with me." He uttered unexpectedly, catching you off guard.

"What?... Where?" You asked him puzzled.

This time, he reached his hand out slowly, gently brushing against your wrist and palm, before finally catching the tips of your fingers with his.

Without saying a word, he led you carefully by his side, guiding you out of the castle entrance and towards the stables. You couldn't help but giggle uncontrollably as Simon tightened his grip on your hand, intertwining your fingers.

With your free hand, you lifted the skirt of your dress, in order to keep up with Simon's quickening pace. "Where are you taking me?" You asked him playfully. He didn't respond, instead pulling you closer to him as you approached the fence of the pasture.

"Simon I'm not allowed this far." You warned looking up at him. Once again, he paid no mind to your words, smiling down at you as he grabbed you by the waist to hoist you over the fencing.

"Simon!" You shrieked his name. Grasping his sturdy upper arms, at the feeling of him effortlessly lifting you off the ground and into the air. Once he set you back down on your feet, he placed one hand onto the railing, leaping to your side.

"Would you just come on." He said, grabbing your hand once more pulling you with him into the open fields of grass.

Suddenly, he came to a stop, positioning you in front of him. You could feel the firmness of his chest against your back, while his large hands firmly grasped onto your hips protectively.

"Si-Shh, shh, shh. Look." He interrupted you softly, gently nodding his head for you to look forward.

Straight ahead, in front of you both, was a harras of horses. Gracefully trotting over the lush grassy knoll. A handful of playful foals keeping pace beside their nurturing mothers.

As the sun began its descent behind the towering trees, it painted the flowery hills with radiant beams of golden light.

The view before you was absolutely breathtaking, and despite all your years living in the castle, you never imagined you'd see something quite this beautiful.

You gently rested your hands on Simon's, which were now wrapped loosely around your waist and leaned back into the comfort of his strong embrace. In that moment, all your previous worries and doubts seemed to fade away.

Simon felt you relax into him, drawing you tighter against his body, keeping you close.

He gently lowered his head, his nose grazing against the full of your hair and he took a deep breath, inhaling in your delicious scent, savoring the intoxicating aroma of vanilla that enveloped you both.

As his words escaped his lips, a gentle touch of his breath caressed the shell of your ear sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "Beautiful, isn't it?" His tone, a confident statement, rather than a question.

You gave a subtle nod, your voice currently untrustworthy as Simon's head remained nestled in your hair.

His hands began to wander. His brain, no longer thinking clearly as his senses grew hazy. His mind, a clouded mess, suddenly consumed by you.

With one hand he gently traced the curve of your hip, gripping at the softness of your plush thighs through the fabric of your skirt.

His other hand ventured upwards, long fingers spreading wide as they glided over your rib cage, brushing against your sternum just below your breast.

As his lips drug against the delicate skin of your neck and a surge of warmth enveloped you, your eyes widened in recognition.

You quickly spun around to distance yourself from him, but his arm remained securely around your waist holding you firmly in place.

Your hands reached out to push at his chest, but the intense look of hunger in his eyes, caused you to freeze.

How foolish of you, allowing him to lure you out here all alone. As much as you were reluctant to accept it, he was still a predator and his thirst for blood, veracious.

As his hand gently cradled your cheek, his fingers tangled in your wild hair. His eyes burned with an insatiable lust as he tilted your head.

You watched him salivate, his tongue darting out, licking his lips at your desirable taste.

A wavering sigh escaped your lips, leaving you utterly breathless. Fear gripped your trembling hands as he leaned closer, drawing you towards his awaiting mouth.

You knew there was no calling for help, no one would arrive fast enough to save you from him.

With a heavy heart, you closed your eyes as a single tear fell down your cheek. Bracing yourself for the inevitable pain, accepting of his bitter-sweet bite of death.

His cold breath fanned against your lips, before a burning warmth enveloped them. Pleasurable tingles coursed through your jaw, gradually ascending to your face, caressing your cheekbones and even reaching your hair, which was held captive in his strong hand.

The rough texture of his scarred lips was nothing compared to the pillowiness of them.

Simon deepened the kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs.

You had never experienced such a sweet sensation before. You were still young and hadn't been trusting enough to share such an intimate moment like this with somebody.

A kiss filled with such an overwhelming sense of passion, surpassing any tenderness you had ever experienced. Your body relaxed, your hands, once tightly clutching his shirt out of fear, now clung to it with longing, yearning to pull him closer to you.

His mouth parted, gently drawing your lower lip inside. His tongue caressing the tender flesh as he kissed you furiously. He tasted like tea, earthy with a hint of something sweet, perhaps cherries or marzipan.

Simon couldn't get enough of you. The soft curve of your waist, perfectly fitting his hand, as if it were meant to keep you by his side.

Since his arrival, he'd been yearning for more. Longing for your taste, and to let you consume every part of him completely. The sickly-sweet flavor of your lips, the taste of your mouth that he savored like the most cherished elixir.

The sudden nip of his teeth against your plump skin stung, jolting you back to reality. The instant your eyes widened in astonishment, you pulled away from him.

Simon's brows were knitted together, as though the absence of your lip brought him some kind of unbearable pain. He breathed deeply, his chest, rising and falling, as if it carried the weight of his yearning.

He caught sight of the solitary tear that had escaped your eye, his thumb brushing it away along with your fears. You thought about how you'd gotten yourself here. How you had been so blind, up until this moment.

"Simon..." His name had never before sounded so beautiful coming from trembling lips.

Was it perhaps because he had kissed you silly, until you became lightheaded and breathless, or simply his ears playing tricks on him, he didn't know. Whatever it was he didn't care, his only priority was to somehow kiss you again.

"...why would you do that?" You said feverishly.

"Didn't think y’d mind." His voice was slurred as he spoke somberly. A hint of something playful in his tone that sent an unfamiliar sensation through your body.

Simon could smell the sweetness of your desire, yet your face, a mix of confusion and uncertainty. "You didn't ask..."

Of course that's what you wanted, he thought. A proper kiss for a proper girl. He smiled down at you, your eyes, filled with emotions, glistened innocently as they met his gaze.

"’ought ya might'a liked it." His gaze was soft as he shifted back and forth between your wide eyes and swollen lips.

"I might have if you'd asked."

In all honesty you did love like it. In fact it was better than you could've ever imagined. Although, it wasn't like you had anything to compare it to.

"Simon..." The purr that hummed in his chest sent tingles through you. He leaned down again dragging his nose along the exposed skin of your clavicle.

You flinched, the feeling of mouth so close to the bare skin of your neck. You shivered and couldn't help but whimper at the feeling.

Simon could smell your fading aroma of pleasure, replaced by the reeking scent of fear. He pulled away to look at you but you diverted your gaze. Looking anywhere but his captivating eyes.

"What's got ya so frightened, Dovie?" Amazed at how easy he could tell how you were feeling, you stuttered out a reply.

"I-We can't... If my father- Wait... how could you tell?"

"It reeks." He said blatantly.

"Y-you can smell fear?"

"Mhm..." He leaned back in, kissing up the side of your throat, mumbling against your skin between each one. "and sorrow... happiness... arousal..." You blushed deeply, bringing a hand up to hide your flushed cheeks.

"None of that, Dovie. 'm a proud man, like to see what I do to you."

The sun had set leaving the sky a dark blue-gray. The wind had picked up, the breeze whipping against your warm skin and tangling your hair into a mess.

Simon's hands began to move up and down against your arms before brushing back your wild strands. You leaned closer to him, his body bracing against the wind protecting you from the nipping cold.

"S'time to getcha inside, little one."

⇠ call of duty masterlist. part.2⇢

so this was originally just going to be one fic but it got way too long. so I figured I'd break it into two, maybe a third if y'all have some ideas/requests on how I could continue it <3 next part will be smutty!

© ladywuvly please do not steal, copy, or translate any of my work onto other platforms!

[echthr0s]

"A while back, my grandma overheard me use the term C.O.D, and I explained that it wasn’t Cash On Delivery, but Call of Duty, and what first-person shooters are, and etc etc. Then a few months later, I came to visit her, and saw she had a PS4 set up in the living room with Call of Duty: Infinite Warfare paused on the screen. She made me a cup of tea and then went on a long rant about some kid spawn camping.

Quickly – what was your reaction to that? Adorable? Funny? Kick-ass? Now I want you to compare that to how you feel about a 35-year-old playing C.O.D. My position is that the gap between your feelings about the two images is roughly the depth to which you have a degree of condescension towards old people. And I think a degree of condescension towards old people is almost universal in Western culture. (This piece is 100% incited by me realising I have it myself.)

When old people use memes, or listen to gangsta rap, or do anything outside of their stereotype, there’s an air of “aw, it thinks it’s people!” to our reactions. We would largely not find this acceptable if it were any other demographic (women, black people) acting in non-stereotypical ways.

The entire cult obsession with Betty White is that she swears and is sexual. But… why shouldn’t she swear? Why is that weird? Why is that funny? People were swearing when she was growing up. They were having sex. Old people are just you, but for longer. (It's hard not to sound trite, sorry.)

(This matters by the way, sorry to be a downer, because old people are often abused, and sometimes it’s because people have condescending attitudes to them and don’t listen to what they say and make decisions on their behalf without asking them. You will recognise this attitude from sexism and other such isms. I was going to say "Don't treat old people like children" but we also shouldn't be treating children this way, so.)

Anyway my advice (to you and to myself) is try to catch yourself when your reactions to old people are different to what they would be for a younger person doing the same thing. Also if you’re feeling angry and defensive right now, spend some time with that feeling. If you really don't think what I'm saying applies to you then hey awesome. But i reckon you're in the minority.

(The story about my grandma is not true by the way. A true thing about her is that she is astoundingly knowledgeable about music because she worked in the music industry for decades. Another true thing is that pensioners contribute more to the economy in volunteering and unpaid childcare than they take away in the pension, but the kind of contributions they make are devalued oh hey does that also remind you of any famous isms?)"

-- McKinley Valentine, The Whippet #14

[sunandflame]

Hi :) I’m sorry but my request isn’t there so it may have not sent properly. Please could I request headcanons of the hashira reacting to their crush being very kind and loving to their sibling/siblings :)

Aaah yes! This is such a cute request and I loved doing that! Please forgive me if it took longer than you expected. I hope it is to your liking and if not please let me know through an anon ask.❤️

Hashira's reacting to their crush being kind to their sibling(s)

Warnings: maybe a super tiny nsfwish? mention of trauma and abuse in the past

Word Count: 955

Pairing: Hashira's x Fem!Reader

crossposted on AO3

Kyojuro Rengoku

Listen to me. This man would blush. And you know why? Because of his crush he got on you.

And now he sees how kind and loving you act towards Senjuro?

This of course leaves him with the question of whether you are so loving with small babies.

Of course you would, what a stupid question from him.

But now he just can't stop imagining you with a baby. A baby from you two, because this man definitely wants children later.

He later needed a cold shower to calm his flushing down, since he recalled how babies were made. 😉

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He would watch you silently and while he does an inner image would appear in front of him.

That of his mother's.

And that would confuse the Wind Hashira very much.

Especially when he sees how warm and kind you act towards Genya and other younger people?

He can't stop thinking that Sumi, Hiroshi, Teiko, Koto, Shuya and Sanehiro would adore you.

And that brings a comforting inner warmth that he had always felt towards his mother back then.

You remind him so much of his mother that he got flashbacks of how she protected her children from their brutal father like a lioness.

That spoiled his mood in the usual way and the gentle smile that briefly reflected on his lips disappeared.

He swore to protect you from everything and everyone, because such a kind soul had to survive in this world and not the murderous scum that he saw in himself.

Giyuu Tomioka

He too would be very subtle in his observation.

You probably wouldn't even know that he saw you.

But he did. And it had definitely triggered something in him.

And it was rare smile, but he kept turning away so quickly so that nobody would be able to see it.

The first time he wants to start a conversation with someone. And then with you of all people.

But he is so awkward and shy in it because he had never done anything like that, especially not with someone who he has a crush on. So double awkwardness.

So he keeps watching you, this time a little more obviously, hoping that you might start a conversation with him.

And while he was watching you a soft smile would play on his lips and this time he wouldn't turn away and look directly at you.

Tengen Uzui

The man had 9 siblings and they all died before he was 15

Then seeing you treating a younger one with kindness and love he wished he had felt when he was younger?

Yeah, this man is gonna come to you and lay the world at your feet together with his 3 wives.

But firstly, he would come alone, take your hand and gently kiss your knuckles.

"Be my 4th wife and have my babies. I know you would be a great mother!"

Mitsuri Kanroji

Our beloved love Hashira

She would probably hear it first from her siblings, before seeing it herself.

"Mitsuri neechaaan! Can we (y/n) see again? She was so nice and kind to us! She even brought us sweets!"

Those would be the words of her little siblings as they are all stand very close to each other.

This made her curious.

And if she then sees with her own eyes?

She would squeal in happiness, seeing how loving you are to them.

And would come up to you and hug you. Her breasts press against your shoulder. "Y/n you are so adorable!"

This time it's you who's blushing.

Obanai Iguro

He and Kaguramaru would watch you from afar.

The man didn't have a good experience with women as they were all terrible to him.

But you? You were the opposite and showed him with your gesture that there was also kindness in this world.

And that was one of the reasons why he had a huge crush on you.

And your gesture would make him fall even more for you.

He would sneak gifts to you.

(I am sorry. I feel like I am describing Obanai x Mitsuri as I always see them as canon and his type.)

Gyomei Himejima

He is already a big soft teddy bear

So expect it to grow into an even bigger one.

The first time he noticed tha, he wouldn't think anything of it.

But he sees that it's your nature and that you do it not for yourself.

And he would be touched by your kindness that he would shed tears (as he often does)

Gyomei eventually coming to you and while he towers over you with his height (man is huge) he would ask you.

"Do you want to talk about cats?"

Shinobu Kocho

Shinobu witnessed your kindness towards the younger ones in the butterfly mansion.

And she thinks you are downright adorable.

And she wants to tease you about that.

Which she will certainly do. (Nothing is going to stop her anyway) And oh she loves to tease you.

But on the other hand she will praise you. Telling you how admirable your kindness and love is.

"This reminds me of someone..." And for the first time her smile turned sad.

You could help but hug her and comfort her, as you did with the younglings.

Muichiro Tokito

Empty eyes would clear at that moment and would look at you in surprise.

It is not about how you look, but the way you treat other the younger ones. It would bring back certain memory he thought it was long gone.

He would look at you with wide big eyes.

"Y/n..." That he remembered your name would make you turn in surprise, but there would be a smile. "Yes, what is it Tokito-san?"

And then he would remember and he would hold your hand and smile. "Your kindness... It made me remember something very dearly to me. Of my father and mother... Thank you so much for that"

[lovelybrooke]

Human Sully reader meeting the Metkayina Tribe.

This is how I would image the reader acclimating to the Metkayina.

Honestly, it was kind of a struggle to get the reader to Awa'atlu. While the Sully's definitely wanted to bring you, there was barley a discussion, they just knew they couldn't be without you.

However, Max and Norm didn't think it would be smart to take you with them. They knew the Metkayina wouldn't be too happy out a human being brought into their clan, so they didn't think it was safe for you.

At this point however, they didn't really have much of a say in where you go. Jake and Neytiri very much consider themselves your parents, so they feel as though they have complete authority over where you go. They knew they could take care of you, regardless of where they went. It was getting too dangerous in the forest, and Jake didn't want his family there anymore.

Like I said, there wasn't much discussion about you leaving with them, it just happened. Jake made sure to stock up on spare oxygen masks and any other things you needed before leaving. Since you didn't have an Ikran, you rode with Jake, even though it causes a fight between Lo'ak and Neteyam, who wanted you to ride with one of them.

It took a while, but once you arrived at Awa'atlu, you were instantly not welcomed. The Metkayina were not happy to see forest Na'vi, especially ones with demon blood. The moment they saw a human was brought along, they instantly wanted to send you all away, mainly Ronal. She was not a fan of humans due to what they had done to her people, and if it wasn't for Tonowari, you would've been killed right then and there.

It was safe to say that you were not welcomed in the clan. Even though your whole family wasn't welcomed, they eventually were able to become somewhat acclimated. You, however, were a human. You couldn't breathe long underwater, couldn't bond with an Ilu, and overall was completely isolated. Your siblings knew what you were going through, and always there for you. Kiri specifically would take you on walks around the shore so that you weren't stuck in the Marui.

It was during one of these walks that you met the younger Metkayina. Tsireya was very nice, which was a nice change of pace from the hatred you were getting from everyone else. Tsireya had this childlike curiosity towards you. She, unlike most other Na'vi, thought you were super interesting and quickly became close friends with you.

Tsireya was the one who introduced you to Aonung, who was not a fan of you. He, like he mother, hated the sky people, and didn't want them anywhere among his clan. He was smart enough not to mess with you in front of your siblings, but when you were alone, he did not hesitate to voice his hatred for you. He would pull your hair, prod at your body, poking fun at how small you were. He would even make fun of your poor Na'vi speak. He and his friends made a lot of your days miserable, but the worst was that you couldn't tell anyone about it due to the collective hatred surrounding you and your family.

Speaking of your family, you did a good job hiding the abuse you suffered from them. That was until Lo'ak got in a fight with him when he witnesses him messing with you, resulting in Jake getting upset. While he was happy his son was defending you, he knew he had an image to uphold, and attacking the chief's son was not a great way to gain the people's trust.

Aonung's bulling eventually died down, due to both Lo'ak and Tonowari. His father, while also not trusting of humans, knew that it was wrong what his son was doing. You were just a child and didn't deserve the treatment you were receiving, regardless of your heritage. Tonowari was more sympathetic to your plight and was grateful his daughter was there to befriend you.

Ronal despised you. She did not want you or your siblings anywhere near her children. She didn't understand Jake's and Neytiri's obsession with you, you were some random demons. In her mind, she saw you as someone trying to destroy her home. It didn't matter what Tsireya told her, in her mind she would never trust you.

Eventually, you were able to build a strong relationship with Tsireya she would take you out on her Ilu's and explore the reefs with you. Tsireya was more patient with you, knowing your limitations and would carefully guide you through the reefs and help you find pretty shells. Aonung did eventually become your friend but would still tease you, just not as much as before. Aonung and Lo'ak became your bodyguards, going everywhere with you. Lo'ak was always protective of you and was not afraid to hide it. Aonung was more embarrassed about protectiveness over you. He didn't understand, you were a sky person, a demon. There was no reason to be so hung up over you. But he couldn't help but become jealous when he saw you hanging out with one of the Sully children or with his sister. It all culminated with him basically demanding you to be his friend and ever since you were always with him.

Tonowari is a good father. A good mate. So, of course he feels bad when he sees you and feels a sense of yearning. He wonders if this is what Jakesully felt when he saw you for the first time. If he felt the same care and longing. He knows it's not right, to care so much about a demon, but he can't help it. Tonowari worries about you always and will always keep an eye on you whenever you travel into deep water with one of his children.

Regardless of how much he cares for you, he will never act upon it in respect for both his mate and Jakesully. He knows what fatherhood can do to a person and would never take that away from him. He instead, chooses to remain content protecting you from the sidelines and making sure no harm ever came to you.

A/n: Please send me any ideas you have for the Metkayina, I would love to hear it.