#no one will ever harm you younger self

[angelstrawbabie420]

felt

[copinghex]

Family bonds | T.S

Summary: After a hurtful comment at a fundraising event, you wonder what really bonds Tommy to your child. 

A/N: Ok, so as I previously mentioned, I edited some of my old stories and will be reposting one per week. This is the first selected!

"Do you want to sit?" Tommy whispered in your ear, your hand went straight to your belly, moving up and down, where you baby rests and patiently waits to be born.

"No, I'm fine, just take this gin away from me, otherwise I'll be tempted," you pushed his glass away, "are the cute kids working?" 

"The wives look more excited than the men, but yeah, four huge donations until now," 

"In less than two hours? That's a new record!" 

This was probably the best business idea you ever had. The inauguration ceremony of the Shelby Institute for orphaned children took place in a cozy room, with closed windows and lighted up fireplaces, the cold breeze freezing the bones of anyone who dared to attend without a coat.

Months later, spring came to warm your bones and put a self-giving feeling into Thomas Shelby's heart. In the middle of a boring, typical week, he arrived home planning to uplift the structure of the institute's building. 

He told you the idea during the night, with his hand resting on your pregnant belly and although he didn't tell you what made him come up with it, you could clearly see his line of thought.

Tommy could rarely afford nice things, there was no gentleness in survival and for most of his life, that was all he did. Finally, with his rise to new money, he could provide something he never had to children who look too much like him - comfort. Also, being seen as a charitable person would do no harm to the business.

The small change of plans you suggested put a smile on his face, instead of making a typical fundraising dinner, why not make an afternoon tea? The invitations encourage couples to bring their children, seeing those innocent little humans running around shall make them remember why to donate.

A mansion with a huge garden was rented for the event, maids were hired to look after the children and butlers served biscuits and hot cups of tea. For your surprise, the event had more children than adults, most couples - including you and Tommy - were outnumbered by their children. 

Your eyes ran through the garden trying to find your little ones, the younger one was the easiest, no place was safest than inside your own mama, but it was better to keep an eye on the other three. Marie Louise Adler, whose hair looked exactly like yours. The twins, Henry and William Shelby, except for the eyes, are small versions of Tommy, from the physical appearance to the mannerism.

Quickly, you found William trying to teach one of John's girls how to use a slingshot. A few steps away, Henry had a handful of biscuits and carried a toy car made of wood.

"Where is Loui-'' before you could ask, a collective ugh followed by a child's cry got your attention.

Louise was under a tree with her knees on the grass, the hem of her yellow dress covered in dirt and the left leg of her white stockings ruined, exposing her bruised knee. Tommy reacted faster than you, his hand slid through your waist as he ran in her direction. You quickly followed after, rolling up the sleeves of your dress.

He picked Louise up, she put her arms around his neck and seemed to calm down a bit. A maid tried to apologize for neglecting your little girl, but you were too focused on following Tommy inside to answer.

Curious eyes followed your trio while you crossed the hallway and once you were in a private room, Tommy tried to put Louise on a sofa, but she didn't want to let go.

"C'mon, love," he encouraged, making her lift her crying face from his neck and allow him to sit her down.

"What happened, Lou?" you took her hair off her face and her stockings off, watching out to not brush her bruised knee.

"I was trying to climb on the tree, but I got scared and slipped up," she brushed off tears with her tiny hands.

Tommy took a napkin and wetted it with gin, after kneeling in front of the girl, he asked, "And what did me and mama say, eh?" 

She looked down, ashamed of disobeying.

"You can only climb trees when me or daddy are around to help," you rubbed her back, trying to comfort her.

"I'm sorry," she pouted.

"Now I have to clean your knee, it's full of dirt," Tommy held her leg.

"No! It 's gonna hurt!" she pulled her leg back.

"Just a little, but don't think about it," you sat at her side, holding her head to your chest, "think about the delicious cake I'll get you when we get home!" 

"Can we get some too?!" William, who'd been peeking the whole scene from the door, suddenly yelled, Henry tried to shush him and ended up being dragged by the hand into the room.

"Boys! How long have you been there?" 

"It was William! He had the idea of following you!" Henry quickly accused.

"That 's not true! You were curiou-" 

"Alright, boys, it doesn't matter," Tommy silenced the argument before it started, playfully hitting the twins foreheads with the napkin.

While you were distracted by the kids, Tommy had taken care of Louise's knee and the five of you were finally allowed to go back to the event.

Louise insisted Tommy should carry her, Henry and William took your hands and the eyes of many guests softened to the vision of you walking together. 

Soon, the kids dispersed in the garden, Tommy got the attention of charitable housewives, interested in donating to the institute, you leaned on an empty table, sipping your favorite juice and smiling at anyone who crossed your way.

"Mrs. Shelby!" an old woman walked to you with a huge smile, "I must say, this is the most diverse charity event I attended in years!" 

 "Oh, thank you so much, misses…"

"Thompson, Aline Thompson, nice to meet you," she shook your hand. "you don't drink?" 

"Usually I do, but I'm pregnant," 

"Darling! That's lovely! Your husband is already so lucky to have two kids, now one more!" 

"Three," you corrected her.

"Pardon?" 

"Thomas and I have three children, Henry, William and Louise," 

"Well, if that's the case, I guess you're the lucky one, Mr. Shelby indeed treats the girl as if she's his," 

"Hm," you pressed your lips together. "may I ask who told you Louise isn't Tommy's?" 

"It's written in the guest list, Y/N Adler Shelby and Louise Adler, I'm sorry for Mr. Adler, I'm sure he was a good man," she smiled, "now, if you excuse me," 

Aline left you with teary eyes, how dared she speak about your family like this? But what if…? What if she was right? Did Tommy really love Louise? Did he see her as his daughter or an extension of you?

"Seven, Louise falling over had a good effect on them," Tommy held your arm, telling you about the new huge donations.

"Really? That's great, love," 

"Are you alright?" 

"Yeah, just a bit tired," 

"I'll tell the driver to take you home," 

"No! There’s still a few hours to go,"

"Ada will take your place, most of the guests are leaving already anyway,"

"Oh, alright then," you drawled.

"Will you take the kids?"

"Yeah, I think," you looked around, searching for them, "just Louise, the boys look like they're having fun, can you look after them?"

"Sure." 

-

The way home was quiet, Louise had asked to rest on your leg and fell into deep sleep, Frances helped you to carry her to bed. After a well-deserved bath, you had put some foundation's papers in order so Tommy could add today's profit without any problem. Night was falling and all you could do was wait for the rest of your family to arrive.

Heading upstairs, your eyes fixed in a spot they usually didn't, the family painting. It took months of persuasion for Tommy to agree to pose and even longer for it to be done, since he only agreed to give away two hours of his agenda. 

Your heads leaned together in a sign of unquestionable affection, Louise sat in the middle, where your right and Tommy's left leg stuck together. William was on your left leg and Henry on Tommy's right, they were less than two years old and didn't get a characteristic Shelby haircut yet. All in all, you looked like a family, no one would dare to say otherwise, unless Aline Thompson.

The sound of the front door opening followed by the maid's heels told you Tommy arrived, you decided to wait in the stairs and he showed up alone.

"Where's Henry and William?" you asked with furrowed brows. 

"At Ada's, they wanted a sleepover with Karl," 

While you both walked upstairs, he had a hand on your lower back and you realized he didn't ask about Louise, the very first thing you did when Tommy arrived was to ask about your kids, Tommy didn't even bother, probably because Louise wasn't his.

Time passed quietly, Tommy took a bath and asked a few questions about the paperwork, you told him to add today's profit and nodded to whatever else he said. Night could have been good, or at least, peaceful.

He sat on the bed looking through his paperwork and his sudden warning made your jaw clench, "You have a doctor's appointment scheduled for tomorrow, so be home when he arrives," 

"What for?" 

"To check on our girl," he answered without paying attention.

"How do you know it's a girl?" 

"This pregnancy it's different from the boy's," 

"Oh," you lay down, turning your back on him, "I'm glad you at least care about this girl," 

He sighed and you heard him writing something, a few seconds passed until he asked, "What did you say?" 

You didn't answer.

"Y/n, what do you mean?" he touched your shoulder, trying to make you look at him.

"Nothing, Tommy, nothing," 

"No, what the fuck you mean with this girl?" 

You sat up, taking a good look at his face before questioning, "How many children do we have, Tommy?" 

"Three and another one on the way," he harshly answered and you sighed in relief.

"This is what you say to everyone else, right? Not just to me," 

"Yeah, y/n, of course, why would you fucking ask that?" 

You teared up and Tommy's face softened, he cupped your face, catching some tears and patiently waiting for you to speak.

"You only have three, Tommy, the twins and this one," you rubbed your belly.

"Who said that?" he looked at you with disbelief.

"It's the truth," 

"Louise is my child,"

"You know she's not, I know it, you know it, and-"

"Y/n-" 

"Aline Thompson fucking knows it," 

"Who 's Aline Thompson?" 

"It doesn't matter, Tommy," 

"It fucking does, if there's someone around saying Louise isn't my child, then I have to know," 

"It won't change the facts." 

"Listen," he moved closer to you and cupped your face again, "Louise is my child, I'm raising her, she's a Shelby." 

"Then why didn't you ask about her when you arrived?" 

"I asked Frances, she told me she's sleeping since evening," 

"Oh," your cheeks heated up, ashamed of this huge misunderstanding. 

"Who's Aline Thompson?" 

"A stupid woman at the charity tea, she said I was lucky for you treating Louise as your own," 

"Lucky, eh?" he nodded, "I bet her husband has a deal with the Shelby Company," 

"No, Tommy!" you giggle.

"Oh, just a few pounds to lose,"

"Tommy! You're mean! Not that she doesn't deserve it," 

Hesitant knocks on the door made you stop laughing, you and Tommy switched a look before he got up and opened the door.

"I'm sorry to bother, Mr. Shelby," a young maid holding Louise's hands apologized, "but Louise wants to sleep with you," 

Too sleepy to speak, your daughter rubbed her eyes and walked past Tommy, climbing on the bed and laying near you. 

"Right, thank you-" 

"Oh, also, Mrs. Thorne called, the twins want to come home."

[opal-owl-flight]

Your Protege. (Pt 2)

(Pt 1)

SAME DAY DELIVERY. HERE WE GO.

This is the only time theyve shown such sheer anger in front of anyone. Theyre usually just cold, or disappointed -- never furious.

Its one of the times Neo3 actually feared the captain.

MORE NOTES ABT CUTTLEFISH BELOW

Not over how Cuttlefish is this fuckign loony old man who pushes his ideas on young 3, constantly goinf "yall kids think Im crazy but LOOK WHOS RIGHT FOR ONCE", "I cant fight anymore, thats why I got you!", "Youre hero material, kid! Youre gonna be big!!"

Then raves abt how the Octarians are evil

3, who was desperate for praise from someone who reminds them of their direct relatives, does everything he says to do just to be appreciated more.

Cuttlefish taught them how to fight hand to hand. How to move and think on their feet. (Though they were given similar in their younger years)

Cuttlefish was... generally more warm and supportive than their dad, but yknow. A lot of this started bc 3 agreed to work for him. Be his deadly weapon.

-------

Cuttlefish was more concerned abt the Zapfish than 3s well-being then... He knew that the constant praising was working so hes gonna keep doing it. (...mostly bc thats what worked on HIM back then)

After 3 does his dirty work, he realized he should probably keep the kid around bc his paranoia with Octaria is a damn bitch and this kid is one hell of an ass kicker. They dont mind. Right??

3 never showed any sign of wanting to leave. Why would they, he was so kind to them, more than their dad or grandad ever was. (Also the paranoia rubbed off on them. Oops!)

Then, he asked them to go on a longer patrol with him. Pushed them to their fucking limit. Bc of what?? Octaria making moves again? (Octavio did make moves but they were already, as we say in the game, "too far from the objective to really contribute to the fight". This is why agent 4 was dragged in.)

There, 3 saw more and more that hes just a loony old man who wanted to have a fancy weapon to protect him in his crusade. A crusade they never really questioned, mind you. Theyve no reason to believe Octaria was nice in any way, not when they keep trying to kill them. (...in self defense. They havent realized, yet.)

Then they encounter 8, who had dropped her weapon at the sight of them. Raising her hands in surrender. 3 was far ahead of the coot, and managed to actually talk to her and everything. They were this close to bringing her back to Inkopolis as a friend, until the bastard ruined the moment.

Cuttlefish still told them that she was a danger. It might be a trick! Dont put your guard down! Pressured to follow their superior, 3s mask returns to their face, turning onto 8 with the herl shot ready to fire.

Then they all tumbled into the metro.......

....for Cuttlefish to use yet ANOTHER kid (8) to get him out of a hairy situation.

--------

Hes a crazy old man. Only caring for any of the kids beyond the platoon after they do his dirty work.

Like "mmm! Thank you for committing the war crimes in my stead. Youre a good kid, you know that? Anything I can do to support you further? Mmmm???"

...I dont think hes aware.

Hes not aware that hes harming the entire platoon, bc in his mind hes doing the greater good here. Get some easily manipulable kids on the street, shower em with praise and promises of glory and valor, and theyll do ANYTHING for you.

Including the warcrimes you keep wanting to do.

I think...I think he doesnt know hes manipulating the kids. I think he genuinely believes his own promises. He glamorizes the valor of war bc hes a commander who sits in the back of it. He really believes that this is for the best. He believes that this is how you inspire your troops to fight.

--------

LETS GO THATS ALL MY NOTES I SPENT ALL DAY FINISHING THIS COMIC. GOODNIGHT INKOPOLIS!!!

[chrissv4mp]

silly me to fall in love with you , CHRIS S.

summary: love is a scary, annoying thing // you're chris's first love, and he can't believe he's gotten so lucky.

pairing: chris sturniolo × fem!reader

warnings/topics: probably a little vulgar language, mainly fluff, pet names, etc.

a/n: this is probably really bad, so bear w me😖🙏 also this is super short so....💔💔💔

wc: 1.7k

"i've been loved before, but right now in this moment..

...i feel more and more like i was made for you."

the breeze was gentle, the fire in front of you masking the slight cold that passed by. chris's blue fresh love hoodie fitting a size bigger than your own.

chris couldn't help stare from behind you, a smile plastered on his face that he felt would never leave. he still can't believe that you're actually real.

if his past self saw him now, younger chris would definitely try to convince himself that he didn't want to want you.

a deep blush crept onto his face as he continued his walk back from the cabin, arms filled with a box of graham crackers, a bag of marshmallows, and some skewers.

he caught a glimpse of your soft smile as he moved to set the things down on the small metal table beside your two bodies.

"hey," you whispered as if you spoke any louder you would disturb the peaceful environment.

chris turned his body from facing the table to facing you, his neon orange shirt capturing your attention before his own gaze brought you back.

the smile from earlier was still there, and now he was sure it would never go away. he still couldn't believe that any of this was real life.

"hi." he muttered, his voice sweet and matching the volume of your own.

your hands cupped his face gently, scooting closer on the bench to lean down and peck his soft, pink lips.

his hands found their way to your waist, head going to rest on your shoulder as he hugged your body closer to his.

he wanted to stay in this moment forever, just the two of you out in the forest, alone and safe from any harmful comments on the internet or even in real life.

this was everything he wanted right now in this moment.

he dreamed of this moment, and he wasn't afraid to admit it. there were other things he dreamed of, too, but those could stay in his mind a little longer.

as his head came back up to face you, you finally noticed the dark spots under his eyes, "chris, have you been sleeping?"

the brunette shrugged, a dopey smile on his face, "i mean i haven't slept since sunday, but it's alright. i was calling you, and you know i love the sound of your voice."

a small frown washed over your face as you tilted your head, thumb caressing chris's cheeks affectionately.

"you need sleep, chris." you said, guilt clearly shown in your gaze.

he bit down on his lip, his hand moving to rest on yours that was on his cheek, "hey, don't give me that look, baby,"

"my sleepless nights are better with you than those nights could ever be alone." a small smile played on your face at his comment.

your lips found his again, this time entwining in a more passionate and loving way. you were convinced he would do anything for you.

"i love you." you whispered against his lips, and chris just sighed as he kissed you again.

you wouldn't call him out on it. he'd always tell you he has commitment issues, and that if you didn't want to be with him anymore, it would be fine.

chris pulled away first, eyes finding yours again as he ran his thumb over your thigh lovingly.

his lips parted to speak, but you quickly cut him off, "it's okay. you don't have to say sorry chris, it's alright. don't say anything until you're ready,"

"i'll wait for you. always." chris squeezed your thigh gently as his smile came back.

he nodded subtly, blue eyes staying on yours as he took in your presence.

chris knew you were the one. you had to be, or else all this time you two spent building this—whatever it was—would've been for nothing.

"thank you, y/n." his face flushed just at the sound of your name, and your smile widened.

you just hummed, eyes trailing away from his own as he went to hide in the crook of your neck again.

you sat cross-legged on your brother's bed, attention focused solely on the view of the neighborhood outside his window.

nolan sat on his gaming chair, legs resting on the edge of the mattress as his eyes flicked between you and the black sheets.

"you wanna talk?" you laughed at his unexpected question, causing his own laughter to fall from his lips.

after a few moments of soft laughs, you both settled down and set your gaze on one another. his question was genuine, so you answered.

you gave him a small nod before your lips parted, crossing your arms over your chest, "i haven't slept in a week or two,"

nolan hummed, encouraging you to continue. you knew he wouldn't ever spill your secrets, they would always stay behind his closed door.

a look of concern flashed over his face for just a moment before it faded to a more subtle look, knowing that you hated when people tried to push on the topic.

"and there's so many possible reasons why, i just don't know which one it is, nol." you sighed, head falling back against his headboard.

he fixed his position in the chair, sitting up straight, "well, list them."

you bit down on your lip, fingers picking at the small hairs on your arm, "work, homework, stress. love."

as soon as the word rolled off your tongue, nolan spoke, "ding, ding, ding! it's definitely love."

your eyebrow raised as you looked at him from across the bed, "and how do you know that?"

he huffed in an exaggerated manner, and you just rolled your eyes and laughed at his actions, "how do you not know that?"

"come on, you've been talking about chris for so fucking long, y/n." he says, crossing his legs over one another on the mattress.

he was right, you couldn't keep your mouth shut about the boy. but who could blame you? he was the best guy in the world, always giving you little gifts and sending you loving texts.

chris was sweet, his personality being one of his best qualities.

"i think i might have fallen in love...

...what am i to do?"

nick was leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed as he listened to his brothers question.

he shrugged "show the girl that you're in love with her."

chris groaned, stomping his feet on the hardwood floor like a child as he threw his head back, "you're not helping."

nick rolled his eyes, sighing before he spoke again, "chris, love is more than just a thing you say. love is friendship, family... fuck, even hate is a form of love, or at least an imitation of it."

"you don't have to tell her that you love her until you're ready, chris. but in the meantime, you could at least show her." nick explained, "open doors for her, give her compliments. do things with her that she enjoys, try to learn stuff you know she fucks with."

chris chuckled at his brothers use of words, moving to sit atop of the counter as his legs dangled off the edge.

"she likes to paint.." the brunette muttered, and nick snapped.

chris's head instantly went up to look at his older brother, "then take her to art lessons, make it a routine that you go together each week."

the sound of footsteps caught both brothers attention, heads turning in the direction of the noise. matt stepped from down the hall, stopping as he saw his brothers.

"what's this? what, are you doing some intervention?" matt asked, confusion clear on his face as he stood at the other end of the island.

chris laughed, looking over at nick who just cracked a smile.

"chris is having a small emotional crisis, and he's come to me for help." nick says, and matt takes a seat.

"is it because of y/n? kid, anyone that has seen the way she looks at you would say the same thing i'm about to say," matt laughs, "she's head over heels for you, and you're the exact same for her."

chris huffed, running a hand through his messy hair as his thoughts traveled elsewhere. he would definitely need a haircut soon.

"that's exactly what i have been saying, matt!" nick exclaims, "thank you."

matt nods, a smirk on his face as he stretches his arms above his head.

chris jumps off the counter, going to take a seat opposite of his older brother on the island.

"it may seem simple for you guys since you've never been in a relationship, but it's really not. you guys don't get it." chris whined, dragging his hands down his face.

matt and nick share a look before the younger speaks, "then go to someone who does."

nick hums in agreement, "yeah. maybe go to the person you're having these feelings for. she's had partners before, she's had experience with those feelings."

matt puts up a finger just as chris opens his mouth to speak, and chris groans as he continues to listen to the boy beside him.

"she'll listen to you, chris. you always tell us how understanding and caring she is of your emotions, i think she's the perfect person to go to." nick says softly, moving from his spot against the counter and walking behind chris.

the older boy puts a hand on his brothers shoulder, rubbing it in an effort to comfort chris.

chris just stays silent, mind swarming with all of his thoughts and the ones that his brothers just shared.

matt and nick watch over chris intently, staying silent to give him a moment to process.

"okay," the response finally leaves his lips, and even if it's just one word, nick and matt know that chris will listen to them.

he removes his hands from his face, looking at nick before his gaze moves to matt, "thank you guys."

they both nod, smiles forming on their faces.

"we love you," matt says, his gaze soft.

chris smiles, "i love you guys, too."

tags: @cindylcuwho @adirtylittleheart

[animeyanderelover]

Anon: May I request Platonic Mukamis with a little sister?

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, overprotective behavior, clinginess, delusional mindset, isolation, manipulation, threats, self-harming tendencies

Little sister

None of the Mukami brothers are related by blood yet their bond surpasses that of even siblings who are related. They have been sticking together ever since they found each other and fought for their survival in the unforgiving world. They find you when you are but a mere baby, a few months old at best, left behind in a side street as if you are disposable trash. Whilst Yuma and Ruki show some hesitation as they don't know how capable they will be to provide for you, especially since you are so young and dependent, Kou and Azusa are immediately enraptured when you look at them with innocent doe eyes. Azusa even starts crying as he begs his older brothers to take you in and ultimately Ruki gives in to his pleas. It is always difficult but they try their best to cater to your needs as good as they can and even give you a name after a lot of small arguments about what name fits you best. Your wellbeing is prioritised over even their own as your presence is like rays of sunlight, warm and welcoming. When Karlheinz offers to transform them, all of them immediately take the offer as they realise that this is their chance to give you the treatment that you deserve.

Ruki Mukami

📘​Even if Ruki has expressed his doubts when the four brothers found you back when they were still humans, he has grown into the role of your oldest brother. Perhaps even a little bit too well. The fact that he didn't immediately want to take you under their care when you were still a baby is something he hides from your knowledge even so many years later and he has urged his brothers to do the same. He fears that if you were to ever find out about his initial hesitance, you would turn your back on him and favor his younger brothers over him. He takes immense pride in the fact that he is your oldest brother as he likes to treat it as if it would give him some special rights in comparison to his younger brothers. Those special rights include making most of the decisions for you as he claims that as the oldest he naturally has the most experience and knows what would be best for you in every situation of your life. If you have anything that worries you, Ruki encourages you to seek him out. He is the one who oversees your homeschooling as his brother and him have all agreed that attending school with humans is far too dangerous for you. He can teach you all you need to know.

📘​From all of your brothers, Ruki is the one who places the most restrictions on you, even as you grow older. His motivations lie largely within his paranoia and his overprotective tendencies because even if you are a half-vampire just like them, he can't stop himself from still seeing that little, toothless baby in you that smiled whenever she saw his face. It is only natural for you to grow older and more independent yet Ruki finds himself despising that process as he worries that one day you may intend to leave the mansion and go on your own adventures. You are his little light and you have always been and he has always been your big brother and intends for you to continue thinking that way. He is quite adamant on family events where all Mukami siblings participate and his brothers have never once rejected that idea because it means spending precious time with their adored, little sister. The happiness you five share is not an illusion and he really wants you to realise that whenever such a family event happens. You could never get the same amount of happiness with anyone else besides them. Do you understand him? It is best and safest for you to always stay with your beloved brothers.

Kou Mukami

​🎤​From the very first moment your bleary eyes met his own, Kou has known that he would do everything for you and turn into anyone if it meant to keep you and protect you. You are a little princess that deserves the world yet surviving on the streets always meant that he couldn't treat you the way he wanted to. When Karlheinz transformed them and gave them capabilities and riches they could have never dreamt about before, Kou finally could do what he hadn't been able to do before. From the very first day since they started their new life to the current day, your second-oldest brother has never stopped spoiling you absolutely rotten. Whatever you have wanted throughout your life, you have always gotten from him as prices nor rarity of the object you wanted have never mattered to him. Kou is quite playful and he proudly claims that title as your favorite playmate. Whether you want him to play with your puppets with you or want to play hide and seek with him, he has always entertained you. Ruki has reprimanded him already due to the risk he sees in some of the games he plays with you but Kou has always reassured him that he would never allow you to get hurt.

​🎤​From the first night they took you in though, Kou has always sung for you. It always made his heart swell when you would start crying during the day or night but would slowly calm down the moment he started singing a lullaby for you. It is one memory he greatly bemoans the older you grow and lullabies start being less important to you yet he still sings for you quite often. He composes a lot of songs and many of them he has written for you during his life, soothing melodies and kind words to calm your frightened young mind as you grew up. You still love his voice and his music though and that knowledge fills him with pride and with warmth and he gladly allows you to try to write a song of your own or teaches you how to play an instrument. He finds himself playfully pouting whenever he notices that you prefer spending time with another one of his brothers, he can't help the tinge of jealous he feels whenever he witnesses that sight. He tolerates it though as he knows that Ruki, Yuma and Azusa are mindful of the time they spend with you. Such jealousy always evaporates the moment you compliment him though or tell him how much you love your big brother.

Yuma Mukami

​🌱​Yuma has his doubts when they initially pick you up because he knows how harsh the environment is that they live in. He has always been tall and physically very strong which allows him to protect those who are important to him. You are still a tiny and fragile baby though. How are you supposed to survive on the streets? Even when Ruki agreed to take you under their care, he still has his doubts. It is the moment he holds you for the first time and you wrap your tiny fingers around one of his that he gathers the determination to defend you till his last breath. After he has been turned into a half-vampire and gained even more physical strength, he has only strengthened that vow in his mind. His tall physical build has always led him to be exceptionally gentle with you, especially when you are still only a small child. A part of him has always been worried that you may be scared of him because of his strength and tall build yet you have never expressed once any anxiety as you always come running to him and stretch your arms out, your large eyes begging him to lift you up and twirl you around. He has never been able to deny those cute eyes of yours, even though he has always been careful.

​🌱​Whether lifting you up, letting you sit on his shoulders or giving you a piggyback, Yuma has always been the equivalent of a human amusement park for you and this is something he takes pride in. He has been taking you to his garden from a very young age too and you are the only person who has ever gotten away with jumping through his patch without getting chased down angrily by him. He enjoys teaching you how to cater to the needs of a plant and how to tell if the fruits and vegetables are ripe or not. Whatever of the harvest you prefer the most is what he ends up sowing and growing the most in his garden just to watch the excited glimmer in your eyes whenever he informs you that it's time to harvest your favorite fruits and vegetables. You are in general quite isolated from other people yet the few times you are taken out, Yuma is terrifyingly efficient to scare away anyone who looks like they consider to approach you. Very few have the guts to chat with you if he is always right behind you after all. All that frightening strength that could easily crush someone's skull is never shown to you though as Yuma has always been only gentle and careful with you.

Azusa Mukami

​🗡️​Azusa has been attached to you from the very start, his heart nearly bursting when he found your little form in a basket all alone as your mother has left you behind. He begs Ruki to let them keep you as he fears that no one else would take you in and that you would end up dying lonely and afraid without having ever experienced love and he even bursts out in tears as he pleads to his older brothers. He even volunteers to take care of you all by himself if no one from that would agree to keep you. He has stayed the most attached to you even up until now, although he has been forced to limit the time he spends with you as you grow older and require a bit more privacy. When you were a baby he would always be right next to you or hold you even himself as you fell asleep, his fingers playing with your small ones and he would read bedtime stories to you, always happy when you came running to him with a book clutched in your hands that you wanted him to read to you. The youngest brother of yours often finds himself bemoaning the time when you were so cute and tiny, even if you will forever be his baby sister for him. Sometimes he still asks you if he can read a book to you.

​🗡️​Whilst his older brothers care for him, Azusa has some self-harming tendencies and they have always been worried that he might set a bad example for you. They care for him and want him to stop because it saddens them to see him like that but they are also afraid that you might pick up on it or would get scared once you are old enough to realise what Azusa is doing. To all of their relief helping to raise you seems to rid Azusa of that unhealthy behavior of his for the most part as he instead dedicates much more time to protect and raise you lovingly. Yet he has some relapses at times, mostly when you have an accident or fall ill. He cares deeply for you so seeing you in any kind of pain induces him with such anxiety that he feels his throat tightening and his vision blurring. In a very twisted sense of wanting to suffer with you, he resorts to grabbing a knife and cutting himself over and over again to show solitude with you. Azusa never tells you the truth behind all the bandages and the band-aids he wears the next time you see him though as all of his brothers have warned him that he might make you feel guilty. Being the reason for your sadness is the last thing Azusa would want.

[astralis-ortus]

game for two

✱ husband!bc × gn!reader

— guess who just got his old yearbook in the mail?

w.count → 0.8k genre → fluff, married life!au, non-idol!chan warnings → minor cussing (light hearted context), chan referred to as chris ⋆ see masterlist

coming home from work, you’re usually greeted with one of the following­—an empty house, a soft reverberating beat from the small, cozy studio located at one end of your home, or a soft snore while some romance movie thickens its plot on the screen of your neatly mounted tv.

a view of your husband with a stack of books on his lap, however, was not exactly something you would ever have in your bingo card.

“whatcha up to?” became your follow up question after chris’ quick how-was-your-day debrief. it didn’t take you long before promptly securing the spot next to your husband, where he—judging from the way your ivory-colored couch emanates heat—had been hanging around on for quite some time now. “i don’t think i’ve seen those books before.”

“mm, just got them in the mail today,” chris hummed, an arm swiftly encaged your figure as he attempts wrap you in his warmth, “mum and dad found these in the attic while they were clearing out the house. thought would be better to keep these here than to fill up space in their new home.”

it only took you a second to realize what kind of book your husband has been flipping through when a familiar-yet-way-younger-looking dimpled smile came into view, eternally captured in the printed sheet. “oh! baby chris!”

“good lord,” a chuckle ignited from the depth of his chest, ones that always pair with the soft crinkles near his eyes and sometimes a nuzzle to your hair when he couldn’t stand the adoration bubbling in his heart, “i was an angsty, moody teenager there, not a baby.”

“sure, whatever you say, baby,” you teased, emphasizing the word as you stole the perfectly conditioned yearbook from his hands. you’ve seen countless of chris’ teenager years' pictures, sure, but what harm could it bring to have a peek at more?

chris comically let out a sigh as he rolled his eyes—a signature telltale of his attempt to ‘look’ annoyed. “you’d really be in a huge trouble if you call an angsty teenager a baby, you know.”

“i don’t, actually,” eyeing the faint playful glint in chris’ eyes, you decided to lure him into a game. after all, what’s a more fun way to spend your evening than to bicker with your husband? “what would this-” you pointed at his half-heartedly grinning self of the past, “-angsty teenager do if teenager me called him a baby?”

another set of chuckles escapes him—ones louder, which, more often than not, indicates his approval of the arena you’ve built.

he’s in the game.

“well, for starters,” chris tilted his head, quite obviously setting himself to get a full view of your reaction just by gauging the godawfully attractive smirk he got etched on his lips, “i’d probably…”

“…probably?”

his way of building suspense will one day definitely be the death of you. really. if you were honest to yourself, you would actually rather kiss that damned smirk off his face right now—but the game has just started, and you’d hate to lose to your husband on your own little trick.

only… would he even let you win?

“well…” shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, chris continued,

”i’d probably tell you to fuck off.”

the way your grin transformed into a face of utter disbelief was enough of a trigger to fill the room with echoes of chris’ laugh, filling the space with the kind of warmth you’ve only known after you met him. for now, however, you feel like you’ve been betrayed.

“that’s rude!” you huffed, incredulous. though arms are now completely folded in front of your chest, chris knew you’d still let him push more of your buttons; otherwise, why would you still melt into him?

“i’m your future wife! how could you tell me to fuck off?”

“in his defense, he didn’t know that!” he countered, wiping a stray tear which had involuntarily escaped while he was celebrating his first strike. "he was just a kid who thought the world in general was a mean ol' crone, so he just, you know, returned the energy."

"meeting you, however," setting his yearbooks aside, chris then took the chance to entrap you in his arms, "has changed my view about the world—for the better—and i owe you my life for that."

you've been speculating that there's something going on about chris' voice—is he a siren? or is he actually a highly skilled mage? how is it that his voice alone has never failed to untangle every single jumbled up knots under your skin?

or maybe, just maybe, the problem is you—because unknowingly, somewhere along the way, chris had long become your achilles heels.

"...shut up, christopher."

"aw- look at your ear! they're burning!"

"shut up!"

"heh- i love you too, baby."

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[olderthannetfic]

Getting this off my chest:

Back from a small fanfic hiatus, and I am absolutely flabbergasted by all of the fic authors now practically begging their readers to READ THE TAGS.

I’ve been seeing this warning written in summaries, in author’s notes, highlighted in all caps in the actual tags. I’ve read so many apologies written by authors in the comments in response to people chastising the author for writing what they wanted to write, for what they tagged correctly — for what essentially comes down to nothing more than having had other people actively ignore their tags or read despite them.

And there seems to be this bizarre, somehow largely accepted idea that it is the creators job and responsibility to beseech their readers to ‘use caution’ and to ‘stay safe’, to ‘be mindful of their health’…

I am beyond confused here.

Since when??? did exercising the most basic form of common sense and acknowledging one’s personal yeas and nays, likes and limitations, become some other random stranger’s burden rather than one’s own? And especially a random person who tagged their work correctly??? Does no one remember how to harness their own powers of discernment and self-regulation???

This little jaunt back onto ao3 has been unlike any that I’ve ever experienced before. What. Happened?????? Who is this new, apparently severely emotionally unstable and obstinately tags-reading resistant audience everyone has come to focus on?

It all feels so out of touch. The basic concept of ao3 is for the reader to seek out what they want, not what they don’t want. And to actually read. But there seems to have been an extremely strong shift away from reading. On ao3. A site built specifically for reading and writing. (And other fandom artistic pursuits, but not my focus, atm; though I’m sure whatever this is has crept steadily into all spaces there.)

Plummeting reading comprehension must be somewhat to blame; the popularity of fanfic amongst younger and wider audiences, as well. But… young people have always been there, as far as my own experiences go, and it was never like this. It’s as if too many readers don’t know how to make good or even practical decisions for themselves anymore, that they’ve lost the skill of choosing, and now believe that they must consume everything that passes before them; — that they have, for some reason, adopted the belief that any turmoil or dislike or discomfort felt within themselves is harm purposely being done to them by the author.

Idk. Idk, idk, idk. It’s just such a bummer to see how much nervousness and distress has entered the community. Authors notes and comments used to be hilarious fun, or a peek into someone else’s real-life world, used to be casual and full of personality, whereas nowadays, there seems to be an underlying hesitancy and distrust, a sort of growing divide between writers and readers, groups which, until recently, very much were not mutually exclusive.

--

Idiots have been around forever. The more you cater to them, the more entitled they get. It's best to shut that shit down fast and use no warnings that indicate a willingness to entertain stupid complaints.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | y’all accidentally adopt a kid (part 2)

♡ fandoms; House of Wax, Hannibal (TV)/Silence of the Lambs, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Hannibal Lecter

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; parenthood, kidnapping, mentions of violence. basically don’t tell these guys you want a kid ig

♡notes; another sparse selection but i don’t think Billy Lenz is allowed within 100 yards of a school so it is what it is

also I hate how much I’m starting to love Bo oh my god

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Vincent Sinclair

> he’s a nurturing man- to his brothers and you

> hell he babies Jonesy too

> even so, he’s shocked when you mention offhandedly that he’d make a good father

> he denies it vehemently

> even as the golden child he grew up in hell

> no way he’d know how to do any of it right

> but you just gently laugh and shake your head, insisting but not pressing it

> it makes him think

> and think and think

> he didn’t know much about kids, but you’d be a great parent

> and you wouldn’t lie to him- maybe he’d be at least an okay father

> families don’t come through often

> and when they do, Lester leaves them be

> if they ever get to Ambrose on their own, the town stays off- none of the Sinclairs want anything to do with harming children

> but mistakes happen, and Bo is freaking out

> a little girl with dark hair and bright blue eyes was sleeping in the back of a car while he took care of her parents, and he didn’t realize until far to late

> she’s maybe 3, and awfully scared and quiet- but when they bring her in the house she walks right up to you and Vincent

> she hugs your leg and finally smiles when Vincent kneels down to show her that Jonesy is a nice dog

> Bo is in shock when you volunteer to adopt her, but Vincent is in quick agreement

> she’s nonverbal, but you look through her family’s things to find out her name - Lilly Henson, or something to that affect .

> Lilly Sinclair has a much better ring to it anyways, doesn’t it?

Bo Sinclair

> he’s the type that if you mention that you want a kid to this man, he asks what color

> he is endlessly devoted to you

> and while he never wanted a kid before, he’s always so insistent you make him a better man

> so some snot nosed brats would complete the picture perfectly

> he’s not super serious about it, not really

> you have plenty of time to plan for a family

> and he’s the type to want biological children if possible- he’s so used to white picket fence suburbia-type ideals

> when a car pulls up to the gas station, he stops when he sees the infant car seat in the back

> he’s about to tell the parents to move along- but then he sees the second matching one

> something - probably his overinflated self worth - tells him he’d be a much better father to twins that these chucklefucks

> and you want a kid anyways! would two be much better

> they’re not identical- he’s not not disappointed by the fact, but they’re still adorable

> a boy and a girl a bit over a year, with big brown eyes and infectious giggles

> he’s beyond proud when he strides in with them

> “daddy’s home!”

> he thinks you might actually kill him this time

> but then Charlotte - the girl based on what’s embroidered on her blankie, reaches for you and you melt

> you’re still scolding him as you happily take Theodore too

> but he knows you’re beyond thrilled

Hannibal Lecter

> he’s always wanted a successor

> quite frankly it never had to be his child - or a child at all

> he thought about taking younger serial killers in the making under his wing more than once

> to teach them the art of culinary cannibalism and the finer points of flaying people

> but it’s far too dangerous - especially with you around

> you’re the one thing that trumps his egomania

> so he lets it be for the time being

> but one day, he takes on a special case at work

> a young boy who recently lost his parents very violently

> he’s in kindergarten, and expresses most everything through his rather advanced drawings

> you don’t interact with his patients- even though he works from home you’re pretty skilled at dodging them

> but on the way out that afternoon the little boy- Peter, his name is, runs out before his social worker and smack dab into you

> she apologizes on his half profusely but you’re so sweet with the boy

> you pick up his dropped drawings and comfort him- he’s quite upset he may have hurt or angered you

> he gives you a huge hug and Hannibal can see the fond, parental look on your face

> after that it’s quite simple to draw up the paperwork

> he’s already in foster care, and it only takes a few false documents to make the courts think that Hannibal’s custody is the best place for little Peter

> you learned long ago that it’s best not to question how or why Hannibal does something when he gets like that

> and either way you’re content with your new little family

[esouliie]

AN ANGEL FLUNG OUT OF SPACE

(natasha romanoff x fem! reader)

– synopsis | falling in love with your childhood bestfriend might have been one of the best yet scariest things to happen to you. but what happened in the summer of ‘97? what happened to your darling natalia?

– warnings | little fluff & a lot of angst, kind of au (no avengers), child abuse, mentions of: attempted suicide, self harm, body mutilation, burn marks, severe malnourishment (18+)

– notes | this was supposed to be a oneshot but, as usual, i spiralled out of control and now it has two chapters… potentially three? merci, mon alice, for the header @wandasgf ♡

[ word count: 4.4k ] Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

JULY 1992

The sun had begun to set and yet the warmth of the day still lingered. The glow of the street lamps cast an amber hue on the pavement, outlining the familiar houses that lined the quiet street. The air was filled with the scent of summer, a blend of fresh grass and the distant fragrance of blooming flowers. In one of the houses on the street, a family gathered in their backyard for a summer evening barbecue. The smell of sizzling burgers and sweet barbecue sauce wafted through the air, and the faint laughter of children chasing each other echoed, while the adults lounged and swapped stories.

Meanwhile, across the field, two girls were beneath the sprawling branches of a willow tree. A patchwork quilt, covering a section of flattened grass, held a tea set long forgotten as they had rounded the thick trunk, the littlest one already perched on the wooden swing.

“Push me higher, Natty!” You exclaimed, voice full of glee. You were only a small girl with wild hair and a toothy grin, but your spirit was boundless.

Natalia smiled brightly, her own eyes sparkling with joy at her friend's excitement. “You’re already so high you could see the Empire State Building.” She teased, her laughter blending with the sound of chirping crickets amongst the long grass in the distance.

“I know!” The wind whipped against your face, and you couldn’t help but let out a joyous laugh.

Inseparable since Natalia moved in next door, your friendship blossomed under the protective branches of the willow tree across the street, where a swing hung proudly in the breeze. Its gentle leaves whispered secrets that only the two of you could hear, dreams of the future etched upon its bark, as unadulterated laughter rang true with its sway.

She whistled as your head swung back, the carefree spirit of the summer evening enveloping her in its warm embrace. And as she gazed up at the tree’s opening, she found twinkling stars above and the imaginary distant silhouette of the Empire State Building visible on the horizon. She couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the vastness of the world she had yet to see.

"Whoa, this is amazing." You shouted, feeling your stomach drop with each swoop. "Let’s swing all the way to the moon!"

“Maybe not the moon,” She pushed harder, her hands gripping the thick plank of wood beneath you, “But let’s try for the stars."

You shouted with as much euphemism as your little body could handle as the swing reached its peak. Weightless under its motion, you were suspended between the sky and the ground.

 An angel flung out of space.

 "I can almost touch the stars!"

She smiled. Despite her hands being rubbed red raw from rope burn, she was happy. She was always happy to be with you. While she had her younger sister, Yelena, whom she cared for deeply, it wasn't the same as having you. A friendship of her own creation. She yearned for the summer days when she could run around like a child with you.

“That’s good, that means you’re almost home, little star.” She shouted, her accent slipping out ever so subtly.

Carefully, your hand stretched toward the night sky – a poor attempt to touch the boiling balls of gas above.

You both were happy.

It’s sad what became of you both.

All too soon, reality intruded once more. The distant sound of a heavy door opening cut through the air, a gentle reminder that all good things must come to an end. With a final push, Nat stepped back and held onto the plank, commanding it to a halt. She knew what was coming.

At first, you didn’t notice her disappear around the wide trunk. But the gentle clink of pottery against one another told you enough as you followed in her footsteps.

“Natalia,” You whined, hands on your waist at the sight of the older girl cleaning up. “No, it’s your turn to swing.”

A whistle pierced the air, its familiar shrill sound gaining both of your attention. The sound of home time. “Natalia, come. Time to go.” Her mother’s voice carried just as loud, urging the redhead to leave playtime behind.

She turned to you, her expression softening as she looked down at your smaller frame. With a mixture of reluctance and understanding, she pulled you into a tight embrace, the warmth of her arms wrapped around you, the gentle press of her lips against your forehead lingered for a moment before she released you and ran off into the gathering dusk.

Alone now, you watched as the field fell silent, the only sound being of the insects hidden in the dark. The swing on the other side croaked gently in response to the light breeze and the redhead’s swift departure. For a moment, you considered sitting on it, perhaps pushing yourself back and forth on the points of your feet. Instead, you find yourself standing there: the absence of your best friend ever so palpable, a void that sunk deep into your bones.

Without Natalia by your side, the swing held little allure, and you decided to make your way back home. With your large basket in hand, you reached your own doorstep and paused, casting one last glance towards the girl’s house. The lights were on inside, casting a warm glow against the darkness outside.

You almost missed it, but a glimpse of red hair appeared out the window, followed by a hand waving at you. As soon as you waved back, she was gone. Window shut. Curtains drawn.

You went to bed with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.

You’ll see her again tomorrow.

--

AUGUST 1997

“Natalia, stop fighting me on this. You look like a popsicle.” You laughed and shoved the girl playfully from where you were sitting against the willow tree.

“It's cool.” She defended, as her hand tugged at her blue-dyed ends.

The years had rolled by, but the memories of that swing under the willow tree lingered on in your heart. As the seasons changed, so did your life. You made new friends, explored different interests, and navigated the tumultuous journey of adolescence. Being older than you, Natalia was already in high school, but she didn’t go to any in the district, as she was home-schooled and sometimes had to leave for a while. She never really told you why.

Even so, your bond deepened and an unspoken connection developed between you both. Under the tree's comforting shade, you discovered a warmth in your heart that went beyond friendship. Those lazy summer afternoons spent laughing, dreaming, and sharing secrets created a bond that you wanted to explore further.

You’d never felt like this before for anyone.

Only Natalia.

Life as a pre-teen was so confusing.

You snorted, “Yeah, okay, you leave for a month and come back with half of your hair a different colour.”

But it wasn't just the hair colour that captivated you. It was the way she carried herself - a wisdom wise beyond her years. She was the same goofy redhead of course - her eyes sparkled with mischief when she laughed at you, her hand held the same warmth in yours as you walked together. But there was something else lurking beneath, a sadness more notable than her usual melancholy. You noticed the slight furrow in her brow, the way her fingers tapped nervously against each other.

Something was weighing on her mind, something significant. So, you asked, “What’s wrong?”

She let out such a soft sigh that you almost missed it.

“I’m leaving.”

Dread washed over you, and a knot formed in your stomach. "Again?"

She had just returned the other day. Your mind raced with questions and uncertainty and the tears already clustered your lash line. You, a child with no need to mask her emotions, no need to hide her soul, unlike Natalia, who always seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, her laughter always accompanied by a subtle sadness, as if she were trying to conceal her true feelings behind a façade of cheerfulness. But today, as she sat you down with a gentle tug, her eyes betraying a mixture of resolve and sorrow, you sensed that she could no longer hide what she'd been keeping inside.

"It's for good this time," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the ground as if unable to meet your eyes. "My parents want to go back to Russia. They don’t like it here.”

Though unspoken, you sensed the weight of what she meant. They don't like you. It stung, a silent acknowledgement of the barriers you've fallen blind to. The odd glances from her mother, the subtle disapproval from her younger sister—all pieces of a puzzle you've tried to ignore.

Her admission hung heavy in the air, the reality of separation sinking in with each passing moment. She drew closer, her delicate fingers brushing away the tears that cascaded down your cheeks. You lifted your gaze to meet hers, noticing the weariness etched into her features, the telltale signs of tears already shed hours before.

“I’ll miss you.” She whispered, forehead flushed against yours, before leaning down to kiss the corner of your lips. An almost kiss. One of many shared underneath the cover of the willow tree.

You tasted saltiness and noticed the fresh tears that had now sprung from her eyes.

“I'll miss you too. Forever.”

The next morning, you stood outside her house, as the sun cast long shadows over their lawn. It was your last full day together so you arrived bright and early, not wanting to waste any time. You reached out to knock on the door, but your hand hovered, hesitant. The house remained still, as if holding its breath, waiting for something that would never come. You glanced around, searching for any sign of life, but the windows stared back at you blankly, revealing nothing but darkness within.

“Natty?”

 Nothing.

A sinking feeling gnawed at your stomach as you realized they must've left in the night, slipping away like shadows fleeing from the dawn. The same way they joined this neighbourhood.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the empty house, feeling as if a piece of your soul had been torn away with their departure. The world already seemed colder, lonelier, devoid of her warmth and laughter that once filled it.

In the days that followed, you found yourself drawn to the tree – yours and Natalia’s safe haven. You sat there, surrounded by memories, as the rope swayed in the wind - empty and forlorn. Though still magical, the willow tree could no longer shield you from the loneliness that settled in your heart, as the summer months stretched on endlessly, a blur of empty hours filled with longing and regret.

That night, you slept with a permanent frown, a puddle of tears staining your pillow.

You won’t see her again tomorrow.

--

APRIL 2001

From afar, she looked different. Almost unrecognisable.

Eighteen years old and she was here: barely an adult yet taller and slimmer, with a cascade of auburn curls framing her face that replaced the short blue hair you remembered. The years had engraved themselves onto her, carving the once-round face into a pointed visage that spoke of both experience and loss.

Just as beautiful as you remembered.

You sat on the swing under the tree with a book in hand, lost in its pages until light danced between the branches and a flicker of movement caught your attention. Glancing up, you froze as you saw her across the street.

Natalia?

Your heart quickened its pace, memories flooding back in a torrent. But this woman was different. She’d changed. She’d grown.

She noticed you too, her gaze locking onto yours for a moment. There's a flicker of recognition, a spark of something in those eyes. For a heartbeat, it feels like time hasn't passed, like you're still the same two little girls taking on the world together. But then, just as quickly as the connection formed, she averted her gaze, choosing instead to continue on her journey. She walked with purpose, footsteps marching in a steady rhythm that both connected and distanced her from you. She couldn’t get caught up with you. She had a job to do.

Realising she was going to walk away, you pushed yourself off the swing, a mix of hope and nerves swirling inside you as you discarded the book somewhere in the grass.

None of that mattered. Natalia was here. She was back.

“Hey, wait!” You shouted, practically running after her. You reached out to grab her wrist, but she jerked away, shoving you back a few steps with surprising force.

Up close, the difference was unquestionable.

The once soft and kind Natalia had evolved into a hardened version of herself, sharpened by strong fists. Her eyes once filled with innocence, now harbour shadows of pain and resilience. She exuded an aura of toughness, and a guarded silence had replaced the laughter that used to be a melody in her voice.

“Natalia? What are you doing here?” You inquired, tentatively closing the gap between you both. You watched as she winced at her name falling from your lips.

And yet, this time, she didn’t evade your touch. Her hand trembled slightly as it met yours, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. In that fleeting silence, you took in the toll life has taken on her. Her arms bear the marks of countless scars, remnants of battles fought in shadows, and bruises of varying hues.

“What happened to your arms?” Your voice is gentle, a soft inquiry borne out of concern.

But, the sudden confrontation had her retreating into herself, defences rising once more like impenetrable walls. You mustn’t know. She could never do that to you. “Let go.” She demanded sharply, her tone cutting through the air like a knife.

Caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, but that’s long enough for her to decide to rip her hand out of yours, sharp and abrupt.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched her practically flee, disappearing around the corner of the street.

 You don’t follow her.

--

OCTOBER 2012

Funny how throughout life, fate seemed to play a game with you, pulling Natalia in and out of your orbit like a cosmic dance.

At twenty-seven, you found yourself entrenched in the fast-paced world of trauma nursing. After the arduous journey through medical school, you packed your bags and set your sights on the East Coast. New York City welcomed you with open arms, its vibrant chaos becoming the backdrop to your new life. From your boss’s office window, the silhouette of the Empire State Building stood tall, a symbol of strength amidst the chaos below.

You thrived in this environment, relishing in the opportunity to connect with and assist people in their most vulnerable moments. The adrenaline rush of the emergency room, the delicate balance between life and death—it fuelled you in ways nothing else could. Not since that summer night. Not since you tried to touch the stars.

Today, however, the hospital was enveloped in an air of secrecy and quiet urgency. Paramedics had rushed in with a new patient a few hours ago, shrouded in mystery as they were rushed straight into surgery. Usually, you're first on-site with incoming patients but you had been busy working your rounds to be able to assist, and there were enough on the trauma team – with the security clearance - to handle such a situation.

Stopping by the bedside of your oldest patient, Mrs. Dinton, you smiled sweetly. “Hey, Mrs Dinton. How are we today?”

"Ah, there you are, dearie," she said, her voice crackling with age. "I was just telling Nurse Molly here about the delightful hospital pudding they serve on Wednesdays. It's simply divine, don't you think?"

You chuckled softly, waving a hello to your colleague. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a fan, Mrs. Dinton. But I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it."

She laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. "Oh, well, means more for me then."

Before you could continue the conversation – could reprimand the elderly woman about how she needs to watch her sugar intake - Dr. Cho appeared at your side, her expression serious. "Excuse me, ladies. But, Nurse Y/N, is needed elsewhere." She says kindly but with a hint of urgency, no room for questioning. You and Dr. Cho were great friends, having graduated med school together and now working at the same hospital.

“What is it, Helen?” You asked, following her footsteps out the ward, navigating the labyrinthine hallways of the hospital.

“I’ve been assigned postoperative care for the Jane Doe and I want you with me...” Your heart dropped at the mention of the mystery woman.

All day, the hushed tones and covert glances exchanged among your colleagues hinted at the gravity of the situation. Their whispers that followed you through the hospital corridors spoke of a failed suicide attempt. While the hospital had sadly seen its share of such cases, this one was different – a Jane Doe, requiring an unusual degree of privacy.

“…while I don’t know any more than you about what happened, I trust you the most to help me with her. So I got you clearance. Go grab us a pair of gloves, I’ll meet you inside.” Helen finished with a nod before entering the private wing.

You donned your own pair of latex and made your way back to the private wing, the click of your shoes echoing down the corridor. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and concern. The weight of the unknown pressed upon you as you approached the room where the troubled soul awaited treatment. Few years being a trauma nurse, you had seen it all… but not a Jane Doe. Never a Jane Doe.

Upon entering, you found Helen already studying the patient's chart. The subdued lighting in the room cast a sombre mood, and the machines hummed softly in the background. The Jane Doe was laid on the hospital bed, head secured in a neck brace and a tube down her throat, a silent testament to the ordeal she had endured.

“Thanks,” Helen whispered, making her way over to retrieve her gloves. "I've gone through everything in the notes. The attempt was pretty severe."

You nodded, taking in the gravity of the situation. The silence was broken only by the soft beeping of the monitors as you both began your work. Each movement was deliberate, and each procedure executed with precision and empathy. You adjusted the IV drip, checked the vital signs, and made sure everything was in order.

Sometime later, Helen had left, her pager going off as her presence was needed with another incoming patient.  The room seemed to hold its breath, but it was only you. The machine to your right, making sure the woman was still breathing.

You read over her notes once more.

“Female, 5’7…” You ramble aimlessly to no one as you find yourself unable to voice the rest.

The laceration on her neck caught your attention. The wound stretched across her delicate skin, a jagged seam where the surgeons' skilled hands had meticulously stitched the deep gash closed. The edges of the cut were puckered slightly, evidence of the trauma dealt with by the knife paramedics found next to her unconscious body. Judging by the shape, it seemed like she plunged rather than sliced, the offending weapon, then, pulled out instead of left inside. She was quite malnourished, her cheeks hollowed out, collarbone visible as the gown drowned her thin figure. She lacked a sufficient amount of muscle. You wondered how someone could go unnoticed without eating for several days. It was as if she had become a ghost, fading away in plain sight.

The woman looked ill - eyes sunken with abnormally pale skin. Drifting down her body, you noticed her legs. A horrified gasp threatened to leave your lips.  Raised red lines covered the expanse of her legs, some scabbed up, some clear burn marks that had turned into blisters. Her arms were just as bad, marred with a history of wounds that ran from her wrists to her shoulders.

Behind all the equipment, her face was almost unrecognisable. Her hair was what stood out the most, the auburn curls matted with blood. A sense of familiarity washed over you, the red striking your curiosity.

You couldn't tear your gaze away as you watched her stir. Unsure if she was waking or simply moving unconsciously, you remained still, not wanting to startle her. But then her face contorted with pain, and her lashes began to flutter open.

The sheets rustled as she tried to turn, her discomfort evident from the way she struggled against the tubes and wires tethering her to the medical machinery. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her, lying there in such a vulnerable state. No identity. No family to be there for her.

"Stay still, please.” You whispered softly, stepping closer to her bedside. “You're in the hospital. You’re safe."

Her eyes, clouded with pain and confusion, met yours for a fleeting moment before flickering away. She seemed to be trying to process where she was and what had happened.

“Paramedics found you unconscious and rushed you in.” You explained gently, hoping to offer some semblance of clarity amidst the chaos of her thoughts. “You had a wound to the neck. We’ve managed to close it, so don’t move around too much. Otherwise, you might open the stitches.”

Her gaze drifted back to you, and for a moment there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes. It was fleeting, gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You saw as she went to speak, only to find pain and a heavy weight against her tongue. “Careful. You shouldn’t try to speak yet. We’re not sure how much damage has been done to your vocal cords.”

As if she didn’t hear you, she continued fidgeting, fighting against the intrusion in her mouth, panic overriding.

“Hey, listen to me,” you coaxed, voice soft but firm, your hand reaching out to settle over hers, the glove long forgotten. “I need you to calm down, please. You’re going to be okay. You just need to rest your voice.”

Her eyes darted to you, wide with fear and frustration, and you squeezed her hand gently, offering what little comfort you could.

“It’s going to be alright, just take slow breaths. Focus on that.” You started to breathe deeply, deliberately, hoping she'd follow your lead. Inhale... exhale... in a steady rhythm, like waves lapping against the shore

As you continued to focus on stabilising her breathing, your eyes inadvertently met hers, and in that moment, you were drawn into the depths of those vibrant green orbs. They held a world of pain, swirling like a tempestuous storm beneath the surface. Yet, amidst the turmoil, there's a glimmer of familiarity that tugged at the corners of your memory.

There’s something about her you can’t make sense of.

 Why does she look so familiar? Who is she?

“Do I know you?” You almost asked, but then suddenly, the door to the waiting room clicked open, and Helen strode in, her expression wavering as she noticed the woman awake. “She’s awake already?!” Shock and bewilderment visible on her face.

She advanced, quickly spewing off questions in your direction, as her eyes narrowed in on the woman, assessing her condition with a quick, practised glance.

"She's awake, a little panicked about being in a hospital, but also a bit disoriented," you explained, voice calm despite the urgency of the situation. "Vitals are stable for now.”

With that, you stepped away, dropping her hand you had forgotten you were still holding, as Helen went to introduce herself. Your lunch break was coming up and before you could turn to leave the room, Helen stopped you. "Thank you for staying with her," she said softly, "There was a car accident. Two little girls rushed in for surgery. They needed me."

You nodded in understanding. You couldn’t fault her. Every day seemed to bring a new challenge, a new story, and today was no different. This Jane Doe was no different.

Before you could delve deeper into your thoughts, she interrupted, “Anyways, I’m here now and pager is off,” she drew your attention to the device in her pocket, “Boss’s order...  now go take your lunch break.”

With a small smile, you left the room, the door softly closing behind you. Walking down the hallways, your mind buzzed with curiosity about the woman. Her face – those eyes - nagged at the edges of your memory, like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Where do I know you from, Jane Doe?

[valliesworld]

You Mean Something

masterlist

simon “ghost” riley x reader, mentions of other task force 141 members

genre: angst

warnings; she/her pronouns, mature content, standard call of duty violence, cursing, kidnapping, mentions of self harm and suicide, mentions of torture, starvation

synopsis; after a failed mission that left you in the hands of the enemy, you finally realise how much Ghost cares for you

Distractions came easy to you, even if you tried your hardest to stay focused, to stay alive and awake, your mind still thought of him while you were being subjected to such torture. You think about his eyes a lot, how in his eyes his his humanity was shown, the person he really was. There were times it got lost, when he would that mask and military vest, when he would become the man the army demanded of him. But you saw it in his eyes that day in the sunshine, waiting for the cadets to finish training. You saw the humour that burned there too, the sort that stays for an eternity. There was something in his spirit that danced when he trains, like a fire giving just the right amount of warmth. You have seen it die too, the flames almost extinguished, when he was under the gun of guilt, shame and fear after a particularly hard mission. You know that isn't him, not the real version, the person you’ve grown to love with everything that is yourself. That's why you had to see his eyes before you go, to see the real him before you decided to give up and let death win. You wanted him to see you too, the girl who messes up, but would do anything in her power to keep him and the squad safe, to keep him emotionally healthy, no matter how deep his scars go. So when you think of him, you see a cheeky man who made cadets run laps til they turned green and hope to god he thinks of the vulnerable version of you, the one beneath the soldier.

In moments of silence, when your captors would leave you be, you would remembered the last conversation you had with your family. She had wished you well with tears in her eyes, making you promise you’d come back to her. Your father had been busting himself with house work, refusing to acknowledge that his youngest child was off to another suicide mission, just like he always did before you left. You had kissed your mother on the cheek as a goodbye, not promising a thing but granting her a smile, just in case that was the last time she’d ever see you again. Death wasn’t scary for you, you had accepted that you would die young, in your line of work death was not something that could be prevented, no matter how hard you might try. What did scare you though, was your nieces and nephews growing up without you, only seeing you in photos, it was your mother and father having to bury their youngest, it was your older brother and sister living without you. Death didn’t scare you, but the impact of yours on your family did.

You didn't know how long you had been held captive for, it could have been weeks, months, even years, at that point. What you did know was that the starvation they subjected you to as one last punishment had began to take it's toll on your body, your weight had dropped rapidly, leaving those metal cuffs loose around your wrists and ankles. At first it had been small strands of hair falling out from stress, then slowly it became more and more til you were left with thin strands to cover your head. Your body was always shivering, cold to touch, and you didn't know whether it was because you were forced to sleep on freezing concrete or if hypothermia was beginning. to settle within your bones.

Makarov had captured you for one thing, he had seen potential in you, wanted you on his side, and the only way he believed he could do that was if he broke you down into nothing, just to rebuild you as the soldier he always desired. He had watched from afar as you had taken down men three times your size, as you cleared bases by yourself, and how you lived up to your callsign. He knew you were young, younger than the other task force members, and with being young came being naive and impressionable, Makarov wanted to use those attributes and swing them to his favour.

In some of your exhausted delusions, you dreamt of your team, of your family. You had dreamt of your first Christmas with the task force, how you had sat in your room with the computer screen on, talking and listening to your family on the other line, wishing to be back home and apart of their celebrations, that was, until Gaz barged into your room and dragging you out for a Christmas surprise with your chosen family. You had dreamt of the day you accepted death, how you leant up against that brick wall, the rain pouring from above and mixing with your blood; red water sweeping the street. You had accepted your fate that afternoon, dying alone, until you knight in a shining skull mask whisked you off your feet and to survival. You dreamt of the day your nephew was born, how his tiny hands wrapped around your finger, chosing you to be his favourite person in that moment. You dreamt of many things, but one always kept returning. The delusion that Ghost would save you one last time.

"Fear is part of being human, Redback, it's the precursor to bravery. We need it, it wakes us up to what needs to be done. So feel it, own it, let it ignite your thoughts," Gaz's words echo in your mind constantly, they were one of the first words he ever spoke to you, and they resonated with her throughout her short years with the task force. They kept you alive at that point, they told you no matter how inhuman you felt, you were still alive, still breathing, still ready to fight.

Your cell was a hollow cube of concrete, one way in, no windows. In there you could have no idea how much time had passed or even if it was night or day. It was totally disorientating by design. Given enough time a person could forget their own name in there, and you were beginning to. The isolation was total and the stimulation was zero. No sound, no light, no furniture or cloth of any kind.

You could hear the sound of feet slamming against concrete, though your eyes never opened, refusing to see what was coming to torment you that time. They had stripped you of everything, they took your weapons, and your dignity. They had left you to rot in the cell in cotton underwear and a white undershirt, though both items were caked in dirt, grim, and stained with your own blood.

The sound of keys jingling had caught your attention, and when you opened your eyes you kept your gaze away from the intruder. Instead, you found the bruises and dried blood on your ankles far more interesting. The person had unlocked your hands first, fumbling with the keys as if he were nervous, as if something had gone wrong, and that had been his first mistake. When your hands were greeted freedom, you finally looked over at the man, your knife, the one they had stolen from you, sat perched on his hip. They had stolen your gear just to use it against you, and that fact gave you more motivation than anything previously, you wanted your things back.

Without a second of hesitation, your hands wrapped around the knife, plucking it from his tactical belt, your tactical belt, and plunged it into his thigh. He cried out in pain, something you never gave them the satisfaction of hearing, as he doubled over from the fiery sensation in his leg you pulled the knife out again and plunged it into his neck, blood that was not yours finally coating your body again. As you let out all your frustration on the man, pulling the knife out just to slam it back in over and over again, you began to register the sound of gunfire, the sound of Russian shouting, and the feeling of panic the base you were trapped within was beginning to feel.

Once you were positive the man below you was dead, you began stripping him as they had once stripped you. You took the keys from his cold, dead hands, and unlocked your feet from the shackles, your ankles screaming in relief. You then took his clothing, albeit they were far too large for you, they were better than what you had been forced to stay in for your time as a prisoner. Tightening the pants around your waist with your belt, you felt somewhat okay, you didn't feel helpless or hopeless, you felt determined, determined to get out of there yourself, since there would be no rescue party for you.

Gripping onto the rifle, one that wasn't yours originally, you began your escape. As you made your way through the base, leaving a trail of bodies behind you, you felt like yourself again, you felt like the soldier once were. You had reminded yourself of things that were facts; you were one of the youngest ever recorded female members to join the SAS, you were an accomplished soldier, a sergeant before your twenty first birthday, you were a force to be reckoned with; those facts kept you motivated throughout your escape, you were all those things, and more, and you could get yourself out of any situation.

Sticking to the shadows, you took down over twenty soldiers, cornering them til they were alone, and that tactic had worked well enough, til your luck ran out. The corner you took was one of bad judgement, over fifteen men resided there, all on high alert for your whereabouts, and with no shadows to conceal yourself, you had no other option but to simply turn back around, though when you did so, you found yourself face with thirty other men, ready to pounce. Weighing your options, you knew that to surrender was your only choice, if you wanted to stay alive. Letting the rifle hang from your shoulder, you held your hands up, defeat running thick through your veins.

They didn't make a move though, not one soldier stood out of line, all of them waiting for you to make the first move, to do something unpredictable, until he sauntered out of the crowd. Makarov's second in charge, Yuri, grinned like a mad man as he gripped you roughly, pulling you in the direction of another room and dismissing the men on guard. You were no longer deemed as a threat as he led you into the room, far nicer than the cell you had grown accustomed to.

He stripped you of your weapons, though he was not thorough, leaving your bloodied knife within your waistband as he took the rifle and pistol from your body, turning the safety on and throwing them across the room.

"I thought we beat the need to escape out of you," he tsked, hands feeling your body in a way far less appropriate than simply looking for weapons. "But I now see that you have to be broken in a different way to get you to comply with our rules."

Your heart dropped to your stomach as the five other men walked through the door, dragging their bodies with them. Three had a grip on Ghost's sluggish body, and two were struggling against Soap's protests. The men forced Ghost and Soap to their knees, Ghost having to steady himself by placing his hands in front of him to keep him from falling foreword. They had drugged him, most likely using the same one they had used to keep you compliant in the first weeks of your capture.

"Redback?" Ghost questioned softly as he looked towards you, confusion running through his mind.

"These two were found sneaking around our base," Yuri revealed, toying with a piece of your hair as he forced you to look at them. Soap held a look of distraught as he looked over at you, like he had just seen a real ghost, while Ghost's eyes held a look of resentment within them. You weren't sure who the resentment was pointed towards, but you had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't directed at you. "And now you'll watch them die."

Yuri stepped foreword, his own pistol raised, pressing the barrel against Soap's head as he looked back at you. With a clenched jaw, you pulled the knife from your waistband and pressed it against your wrist. The sharpness of it caused a small speck of blood to dribble down your arm and drip to the floor, but despite the sting you kept it in place.

"Makarov wants me, you kill them and I'll die with them," You spoke clearly, despite your voice being hoarse from not speaking for days on end. "How would that look for you? Under your watch, his prized possession dies because you can't do your fucking job right."

Yuri let out a dry chuckle, "so loyal," he commented, looking towards the men knelt before him, "and where are your pleas? When she was taken from you, you left her. Maybe you two would rather her blood spill to cover your sins."

"Shut up," You hissed, their silence to his words were deafening, a heartbreaking scene as Ghost looked anywhere but at you.

"I want you to memorise this moment, they weren't here to rescue you," Yuri growled, "They were completing another mission, and you so happen to be here as well."

Ghost's eyes, despite hooded with the effects of the drug, widened slightly, struggling even harder against the three men that held him in place. Soap on the other hand, used the distraction as an ample time to escape. Taking the gun from Yuri, Soap pointed it towards the men holding him down and left off two shots, killing them quickly. You had taken this opportunity to throw the knife, watching with a sickening smile as it lodged itself into Yuri's chest. Ghost, regardless of being under the influence of a drug, took down two of the men holding him hostage while Soap let off another shot into the final man.

Ignoring the two men, you walked over towards Yuri, watching as he spluttered out in pain. Hovering over him, you crouched down, twisting the knife deeper into his chest. Pulling it out, you relished in the pool of blood that began to form.

"I want you to memorise this moment," You repeated his words to him as you dragged the bloodied knife down his cheek, smearing his own blood on his face, "that nobody is here to rescue you." and with that, you plunged the knife up through his bottom jaw.

Months had come and gone, and you had not spoken a word to anyone on Task Force 141 since you had been brought back to the. safety of your base. The wounds, the injuries to your flesh would heal long before you're able to heal your brain. You had gone through a lot, many scars now littered your body, your ankles and wrists having a permanent red line from the rubbing of your shackles, and your mind was in shambles. Laswell had told you that they hadn't looked for you once, that they assumed you were dead and had even informed your family of you being killed in action. You felt almost betrayed that they didn't even bother to look for you, that the mission was more important to them, to Ghost, than to see you still breathing.

The doctors had gotten you healthy again, gave you the fluids and sustenance you had been deprived on before setting you up with a physiotherapist. That man had retaught you how to do simple tasks, explaining to you that the only reason you were capable of such things during your escape was because of the adrenaline coursing through your veins. It had taken you four months to get back to doing things on your own, and an additional three months before you were back to your usual abilities, and still within all that time, you refused to look at the men that had left you in the hands of the enemy. They had offered you leave, to go home and spend time with family, but if the mission was as important as leaving behind a team member, it only made sense to stay and complete it before gifting yourself with seeing your parents relieved faces.

The gym was quiet at three am, sleep no longer a need for you as it only plagued your mind with unwanted memories. The sound of your knuckles coming in contact with the rubber punching bag silenced your mind, created an inner peace within you as you assaulted the equipment. Nobody else resided inside as you continued to push your abilities, seeing just how long you could do this before getting tired. You used to be able to go for hours, but now, it seemed that you could only do half of that.

Your inner peace was quickly ruined by the sound of heavy footsteps, and before you could even register what was happening, his hands wrapped around your waist and pushed you against the closest wall. He turned you to face him, the hard skull plate from his mask was gone, his balaclava the only thing separating them from each other. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were hooded from lack of sleep, the black war paint he usually sported was not there, leaving his expressions easier to read.

"You never threaten to kill yourself to save me again," His voice was rough, reminding you of a hot long black in the early of the morning, bitter and abrasive, burning your tongue. "I'd rather get shot ten times over than ever see you do that again."

Scoffing, you looked at him with a frown, "A few months too late for this revelation, Lieutenant."

"I don't care," He huffed, grip on your waist loosening, "You don't get to do that shit, not anymore."

"And you don't get too care, why do you even care? Huh?" You spluttered out, words dripping with venom, "You left me there to die, Laswell told me everything, told me how you all didn't even give me a second thought, told my fucking family I was dead."

"I watched you die," He growled out, "I watched as that bullet went through your chest, as you fell to the ground."

"And you didn't think to check? The mission that important to you that you can't go over to a wounded soldier and check if their heart is still beating?" You all but screamed at him, if you were anyone else, your yelling at a superior would go severly punished, "I was wearing a fucking chest plate, you saw me put it on, you checked I had it on before we started that fucking mission, and you still left me for dead."

"You don't think I don't remember that now?" He yelled back. at you, voice booming throughout the gym, "You don't think I wasn't awake every night wondering about you? Thinking of things I could have done differently? I completed that mission and went back for you, you were gone."

"Why do you care so much?" You hissed at him, "The first time we met you told me that I'd be another dead body at the edge of your boot because you didn't think I was good enough, why care now?"

"Because you mean something to me," He revealed, though his words were sweet his tone wasn't, it was like he resented the fact that you meant something to him, "you mean more to me every single day, that's why I care."

[theealbatross]

Dark, Slightly Realistic Headcannons (S.S)

Plot | Headcannons on the effects of their traumatic fifth year in Hogwarts had on their dynamics and eventual relationship.

Tags | dark, PTSD, codependency, self-harm (scratching), anxiety, overprotectiveness, trauma, traumatized teenagers are not the best people, IT'S NOT AS BAD AS I MAKE IT SOUND, fluff if u squint, ominis getting stressed out, this storyline is heavily inspired by the background story I gave my character in the game

They are both very popular but also very secretive – in a way that everyone knew them but no one really knew a thing about them. They were almost like a suburban legend in their campus, The Couple who was always together, always huddled in each other despite constantly being the center of the attention.

“Sallow had a twin?”

“I heard she’s one of the few 7th years that was given approval to go into the restricted section for her research.”

“They’ve been engaged since last year?!”

“Look, they’re leaving the campus again.”

If you want to find one, then go look for the other because more often than not they are together. If you can’t find them both, ask Ominis.

Unless you are part of their circle, which is usually just their year-mates, then good luck approaching them. They aren’t hostile but as they grew older, they didn’t get friendlier. And it was for good reason, MC’s anxiety of someone finding out Sebastian’s dark secret and taking him away from her and Sebastian’s fear of the people who are after his girlfriend makes them generally amicable but not exactly approachable.

Suspicious of everyone which is also why they're very protective of each other and their chosen friends.

They were seriously considered to be the Head Boy and Head Girl but both rejected the offer. Imelda was the next best choice but she wanted to focus on becoming a professional quidditch player. So, the mantle was passed to Grace Pitch-Smedley and Ominis Gaunt to the latter’s dismay.

Unhealthy Codependency, but it works for them.

Both will genuinely be tweaking out if you separate them for more than 24 hours. MC feels vulnerable without Sebastian which causes her to lash out at anyone, her ancient magic leaking out in anxiety and Sebastian’s skin itches if he doesn’t know where she is (he literally would scratch his arm till it bled – a painful nervous tic.)

Because of this ‘special circumstance’ and the Gaunts last name, they were allowed to have, more or less, the same schedule throughout their 7th year.

They both have the self-sacrificing disease so they were always keeping an eye on each other.

After The Events of their 5th year, plus MC’s tendency to run alone and headfirst into assured death, and the constant threat to her life from what remains of Rookwood’s organization Sebastian gets a reputation of being insanely protective. The ‘promise ring’ they both wear has a charm that will always leads one to the location of the other, plus it automatically apparates the other when one is in danger.

If you plan to get to talk to his betrothed then you have to get through Sebastian first.

Nothing ever gets through Sebastian.

“No, she can’t find your blasted puffskein in the dark forest.”

“She’s not available because I said so.”

“No, professor, I can’t send her that message. It’s exam season and she has enough on her plate.”

“Dear Officer Singer, the next time you try to send an owl to my fiancé without informing me you will not get it back.”

MC has a soft spot for the younger students but don’t expect her to remember your names. At least Sebastian actually turns you down, she will just stare at you until you awkwardly leave. She was done being everyone’s errand girl.

Every time you think Sebastian’s alone she’s probably just behind him. Or beside him. Or above him. If you think Sebastian's crazy about her then she will show you insane.

Constantly snogging, their professors have given up giving them detention. They’ll just snog there too.

Professors have to beg Ominis to tell them to at least try to hide because there are children in this campus. After an hour long of sermon of how ‘absolutely mortifying it is that I have to tell the two of you to be decent’ they relented. In turn, they just disappeared more often.

In rare good days with good weather, you will find them flying and racing around the highlands.

During exam seasons Sebastian reserves an hour a day to just nap and relax in MC’s lap. Do not, under any circumstances, approach him at this crucial hour unless you wish to risk your life.

They are the Ravenclaws Public Enemy #1 because they clearly don’t pay attention to class yet they’re always at the top of the subjects they actually find interesting. (Potions and Care for Magical Creatures for MC, DADA and Flying for Sebastian). The rivalry even got worse when NEWTs started and Sebastian aimed to be at the top of each class he took to become an Auror.

They get engaged the summer after their 6th year but they don’t get married until Sebastian finishes his training and officially became an Auror because Sebastian wants to ‘earn’ that right and prove to himself and his loved ones that he has turned his back on the Dark Arts for good.

MC becomes a researcher for ancient magic so it becomes a ritual that Sebastian will use up all of his vacation and paid leave at the end of the year to accompany his wife with her travels to different continents

Sebastian fights a dragon in Germany to get the perfect green diamond to place on the engagement ring.

They both take the Unbreakable Vow at their quiet wedding.

They have children but none were seen in public until it was their turn to go to Hogwarts.

Headmistress Weasley does not retire until each and every Sallow has graduated under her careful watch.

She is the longest reigning Headmistress in the history of Hogwarts.

[failing-to-write-again]

The sakamaki finds their self staring at their S/O baby/kids photos or maybe vice Vera, pick you’re favourite!

BABY PICTURES!!!

I'm picking both because I'm an indecisive lil'bitch, so this is part 1 with the Sakamakis seeing you as children. This took way longer than expected but I got bad writers block with Kanato, Laito, and Ayato in particular.

Part 2

TW: Some mildly degrading language, it comes with the DL terrotory, Laito calls reader a whore once.

Shu Sakamaki

Perhaps if you were less tired you would have heard the door creak open or felt the hallway's light hitting your eyes as he entered your room. While not requiring heat, it was a luxury Shu enjoyed indulging in it and you tended to give the best reactions to his cold fingers waking you.

This time though you looked exhausted, a long exam season having drained you more than he would have thought. Besides, it would be funniest if you had the energy to react well. So for now he was intent on joining you in dreamland. That was until his eyes strayed to your vanity where a book lay half open. A clearer look showed a small child grinning up at him, and the note "Sweet Pea's first contest" was scrawled on a slip of paper attached to the bottom left corner.

You were sat beside an older girl both in tutus your hair adorned with with a delicate tiara complimenting your light pink, glittery costume. It looked like you were matching the older girl who was dressed in the more traditional sugar plum fairy outfit. Flicking through the book it looked like you must still be a ballerina, he especially loved your first point shoe photo, you were beaming at yourself in a mirror while standing holding the bar.

The last photo was dated as being almost a year ago, you were stunning. On stage front and center leg held high being supported by your partner as you stared dainty upwards to the side, ironically you were also a sugar plum fairy. Except there was something much more ethereal compared to the first picture he saw, you must have been some prodigy to look this way. The spotlight had all of you glowing, the layers of tulle and jewels only accentuating your glow rather than causing it.

You also had a photo with a young girl after the show, a change in generations perhaps? But, you didn't look as happy. There was the arm of a man in the frame slightly, wearing some robe similar to Yui's dad. Flicking between the first and last photo there was a clear difference between your smile reaching your eyes. You looked so hollow compared to your younger self.

The noise of you stirring slightly and turning over is what brings him back to reality, looking at you now it would be a lie to say he ever saw you smile the way you do in these photos, a beaming toothy grin in an expression he could only call personified sunshine. Now, none of that was visible. What little joy was left in that photo of you and the child had been eradicated. You were paler, and more gaunt due to constant blood draining. You had bags heavy under your eyes and knots in your hair. Punctures littered your neck, painful angry marks unhealed and just left there to further your pain.

He never asked about your hobbies or life before the manor, he knew very little about your past what he had seen while at your least intruding to try minimize the harm his brother, no he was causing. He didn't like this feeling, a rolling unsettling feeling in his stomach. He couldn't look at you as he slunk away.

Reiji Sakamaki

"Seriously, must you be so rude to delay all of our journey home."

Pushing open the doors to the school library he met the sight of your head against a book out cold. Walking closer it was clear you had been studying for some time, a mixture of notes and books laid around you. Tutting, Reiji brushed some pencil shavings away noticing the golden chain wrapped around your fingers a small heart nestled in your palm.

Turning it over it fell open to reveal two halves, one empty the other revealing a young girl in the lap of two people, their heads were out of the frame. Picking up the locket to more closely examine it, the girl was holding a teddy bear with a big red bow matching the red dress she was in.

"They took that picture before they sent me off to the church"

"What?"

Turning his head back to face her, she had sat up and wiped her eyes. Resting her head in her hand and looking at his hand with some far away look in her eyes.

"The church that supplies your sacrifices, cults are always going to exist but yours is less popular than you know. So they trick people or offer to buy their children flat out. Some of the girls had seen their parents trying to get them back, tricked into believing the church was a boarding school. I'm not sure what mine believed, I never saw them again. I don't have any other pictures of them."

"You don't believe in the Church? Yui seems rather devoted still, I know how you humans work and-"

"Yui was raised in the Church by a leading priest who at least pretended to love her, I was shipped off and locked in a building raised to be killed. If you want to view the world as one dimensional, I'd like to remind you that it goes both ways. So I know you vampires are so incapable of managing yourselves you lose all decorum when blood is involved and have seemingly failed to learn how to wipe your mouth." She was sneering, evidently it was harder to hold her tongue freshly woken up. All he could focus on was the swirling pain in your eyes, it was the closest he'd ever seen her get to tears, it took him aback.

The silence seemed to only further solidify your upset, shaking your head and grabbing the locket and your bag before walking out of the library. Reiji hung back for a moment, almost reflective before turning back to the table. The notes were insightful, she had interacted with the material rather than the girls in the school that begged him for help. He had to wonder if perhaps he was using a less than adequate sample population...

Walking out to return to the limo he had to begin considering appropriate response to this outburst.

Ayato Sakamaki

"Yo, you better hurry up Ore-sama waits for no-one!"

"I'm showering, you're the one that came into my room." Scowling the red head dropped down onto your bed only to feel something poking him. Lifting the mattress revealed a flat tin box you had hidden suspiciously. Nosey as he is, he immediately opened the box to be faced with a collection of different photos. Some were of you in some school uniform with some friends, you look around 13 in some of them. Other, newer, photos have you in some brick building with those other girls, as well as some of the previous brides, some wore crosses similar to Yui's but you weren't. You were sat on a window ledge a small cupcake in your lap with those other brides living here, your eyes had that same hollow look you get when he insults you. The worse one though was a picture of you as a toddler, sat on a woman's lap with a tiny paper hat on your head. You were grinning in front of a cake lit up with 3 candles.

How dare you. Being so happy and hiding these expressions from him but showing them to other people. As this is crossing his mind he hears the door creaking open as you enter still drying your hair before freezing.

"How did you get that." You were trembling, eyes fixed on the box still in his lap.

"How dare you hide things for Ore-sama! You are mine nobody else's you have to give me everything. And this," He held up the box, shaking it to punctuate his words. "This is proof you are hiding things from yours truly!"

Tossing the box into the fire in a fit of rage, watching you cry as you try to save some of the photos. He eventually pulled you away, drinking you near faint and watching as you stumble trying to run away when he let you go. Watching as the flames slowly cause the photos to curl in on your small round face while you wait to blow out your candles. As well as listening as you sobbed just outside the door.

Kanato Sakamaki

Kanato had demanded to see what was in your suitcase the moment you had passed the doors into this hellhole. Thankfully Reiji had insisted that it was improper and due to his short attention span the purple haired menace had mostly forgotten. As weeks passed it had completely slipped your mind as you were far too preoccupied trying not to die. While walking through the halls of the manor back to your room after school your mind drifted to Kanato's bizarre behavior.

Kanato, for some reason, followed you around more than the other girls here, you were unsure how to feel about him all in all. He had moments where he was incredibly sweet and nice only to change in an instance with no predictability into screaming, violent rages. He was bad news, with no motivation or willingness to try change or improve you had to live in constant tension over what mood he'd be in. No better example came to mind that what you faced upon opening your door.

Kanato sat at the foot of your bed, your suitcase open and a scattered collection of pictures of you around them. Your heart was in your throat, unable to see his face to know how to act or run. Your hands were clammy, those photos were important to you and while you wouldn't mind showing people Kanato was ultimately a risk, he could rip them up or hurt you for having them.

"Hey, you were a cute child strawberry." Kanato was half facing you now, focusing on the picture in his hand you in a princess bouncy castle at your cousin's 5th birthday. You loved that one, you had dressed up as Rapunzel, you had a lilac tea dress on and your mother had bought fake hair to braid in with yours to extend its length. Gently stepping closer you explained this to Kanato, and about her being your favorite as a child.

"You can sit closer, I want you to tell me more." He didn't sound angry, rare for when he made demands. and you want it to stay that way. Sitting closer he also shifts to have his right knee brushing your leg as he sat crossed legged. He had his arm holding himself up behind you. Sitting in that pose, if it weren't for the clothes, he looks like a normal teenager.

He kept you there for over an hour it felt good to get to talk about your life before being a sacrifice. It was the longest you had ever seen him lucid. You eventually nod off, vaguely comprehending fingers slowly running through your hair and a blanket being draped around you.

Laito Sakamaki

Laito strikes a balance between crazy and insane that while still very much not sane, he's better at hiding it. For the past few months while here you've seen him slowly tailor his behavior to somewhat better suit you. While still a complete perv, once he realized his attempts at flirting didn't work he changed tactics, a few times, until there was this uneasy understanding between you both. You weren't friends or anything but his worst behaviors were saved for when he was hungry for the most part, other than that he was mostly just an annoyance. An annoyance currently not letting you take your time with the Sunday crossword. "8 across is isthmi, strip of land connecting two large areas separated by a body of water."

"I knew that."

"Is that why you took so long to write it down?" I could only glare as he sat there one hand holding up his head on the opposite end of the sofa. Chewing my cheek to stop a sly remark I twirled my pen before filling in the answer. It's been a few days since he's drank, too many smart remarks could have bad results.

Between answering hints that I was taking too long to figure out, Laito was playing with the other pages of the newspaper, folding them into aeroplanes to send across the room. Fiddling with one of his most recent planes absentmindedly, he began to speak.

"The real question is why do you do these crosswords when you're so bad at them." He was grinning as he looked up to see my reaction. However, unlike my normal remarks my face must've fallen because he looked incredibly confused.

"Oh? Strike a nerve little whore?~" He was all but purring, reveling in getting under my skin so effectively. All I could do in response is shake my head turning back to try focus on the crossword. About a minute of silence passed of pretending to focus on the page. Suddenly feeling breath near the back of my ear I flinch turning to see him hovering above me, arm on the headrest behind me and his other on the armrest caging me in. Panicking my breathing picked up as I tried to ensure as much distance between me and him as possible.

"Pictures," he mumbled. "The answer is pictures 4 down, you're not that bad...what are you thinking." He was staring straight at me, seeing straight through me. He reached back to his pocket before placing a familiar photo in front of me, the old crease down the center where I folded it in half to fit in my old uniform. It was a photo from the dormitories, I was 5 working on a crossword page torn from the paper while the older girls in the room were reading the paper and the younger ones played.

"I found it when going through your stuff to see what could be returned to you, can't have cellphones or anything useful for escape. Only to find this, some of those other girls are in the photo and just like every Sunday you ripped out the crossword page. Why?"

I didn't like this Laito, when he was just as sharp as his older brother's and not as easy to placate as the other two triplets. This Laito, who has now left me to share things I would've much rather keep private.

"Nowadays, the Church operates as a boarding school to draw in brides. You get there and you are cut off from the outside world, they tell us the girls run away when they're sent here. They wouldn't give us any real information, too many heretics in the world." Picking at the frayed edges of my hoodie's arm, I took a deep breath before continuing on. "I told the matron I liked crosswords, she did the weekly Sudoku, so since I was young I knew she thought I wouldn't break any rules. I would tear out the crossword page to do while the older girls read the paper to collect any news on disappearances and just on the greater world in general. I would return the paper and say I tore out the crossword to keep to see how my timing improved. Now it's just a habit that paper will never say anything about us or anything that can help right."

I saw him sit back out of the corner of my eye. Readying myself to be bitten or mocked I kept looking down.

"You still stick your tongue out when you focus, its cute."

Before I could even look up he was gone.

Subaru Sakamaki

Out of all the Sakamaki brothers, Subaru was by far the safest. His anger was predictable and mostly posed a risk to furniture over you, even his bites were gentle and so long as he didn't rush off he would seal the wound with what you had dubbed 'nasty healing spit'. So when he unofficial began acting as your bodyguard you didn't complain, or even acknowledge it out of fear he would stop and leave you to the bats.

The new routine was by far the most peaceful you had experienced in some time. You ate your breakfast on your balcony watching the sunset before the white haired shadow took his place brooding nearby. This 'morning' was no different, you set eating your breakfast as you looked through a small pile of photos that the computer club had salvaged from the remnants of your phone. As the sky faded from orange, to purple, to the dark blue of summer nights and stars began to appear in the sky you sat back, eying the door waiting for his appearance.

Your door opened, his figure being somewhat visible through the sheer curtains as he yawned. Once he pulled the curtain back to step outside he scowled seeing you waiting, but when did he not? He silently placed himself leaning against the door frame while you remained seated.

"You can sit closer you know. I don't bite, promise!" Grinning up at Subaru while his scowl worsened.

"You aren't going to last long if you have that attitude stupid."

"I thought we had an agreement, most liars don't call themselves liars."

"I'm a vampire, you shouldn't be so careless if you value your life."

Sighing and turning back to your pictures, you both continued to sit in silence. It took 5 minutes for Subaru to give in and move closer. You were still going through the photos not acknowledging his movement. If there's anything you've learnt it's that if you ever point out Subaru's behavior he runs away, ironic for such a fearsome creature. After he had some time to work up the courage he pointed to one in your hand.

"Who's that?"

The photo was of you wearing some roller skates at a roller disco party, you were 7 or 8. Your wrists covered in sparkly wrist bands and plasters covering your knees and palms from how much you had slipped practicing to avoid embarrassment.

"It's me at one of my friend's birthday party, About a year after this I first got sent to this boarding school linked to the Church. After a few years I was cut off from everyone and sent here. That was the last time I saw her actually, she moved away."

The albino nodded in understanding before once again entering into a lapse of silence. He kept looking back to that photo while you organized the rest of the pile, wrapping the photos in a piece of paper to prevent any sun or dust damage. Standing back up and collecting your belongings you looked to him expectantly. However, he just continued to stare off into the distance.

Weighing up your options and how much you currently valued your life, you leaned down to tap his shoulder. Aside from a minor jolt he seemed more receptive to you. Passing over the photo you were smiling.

"I don't want to look at this it makes me sad, but it seemed to catch your attention to here."

[sehaedazokla]

stark men and your grief would include:

headcanons

warnings: grief, self-harm

fem! reader terms

it would depend when in robb's life you met. if it was in winterfell, before the war, before robb knew what it was like to lose, grief would be foreign to him.

a concept instead of a state of being, but robb would at least know that he would do anything to pull you from whenever you went when that glassy look fell across your eyes. robb notices little things, the way you fall quiet in a conversation or how your gaze lingers too long on an object that calls back memories. 

he breaks your thoughts with simple questions of mundane happenings: whether the feast that night would have apple or berry pie, or if your homeland had ever seen snowfall. robb would remain at a gentleman’s distance whether he was courting you or not, but he would be a steady presence in your fog.

unless the grief turned to guilt and you found yourself digging your nails into your palms until they bled down your wrists in thin lines. try to hide it from him and you would find it in vain - his eyes were always glancing over to you, always noticing. robb would come to you, taking whatever cloth he had to:

“please, my lady-.”

and it would be uttered softly, both syllables of ‘lady’ pronounced fully in his northern tongue. with this look of gentle worry creased across his face and reflected in his blue eyes. robb was used to patching his younger siblings up after scrapes and falls, and his hands would be gentle on your palm as he wrapped the wound delicately. no demands to never do so again - just a silent look in his eyes to come to him if it happened once more.

to let him bandage your torn skin even if he could do little to help your damaged heart. 

—

cregan knew grief well. even if you had met before the loss of his first wife, both his father and brother had died when he was young. in the face of your own loss, especially if it was your first time losing someone, cregan would be someone you could go to regarding any questions, fears, or advice. despite everything he had suffered, cregan had still fought for and taken his place as lord of winterfell. shouldered with the impossible, cregan would be the person to look to.

hours spent by the hearth, staring into the flames as you exchanged stories and memories of your lost loved ones. bringing you to the wall so you could stare down from the edge of the world, out into the snowy abyss that seemed the match the turbulent and endless emotions in your heart. cregan silently standing by your side and watching the wind whip your hair about your face. 

he would share he found purpose in doing, especially in that first year. whether you met in winterfell or kings landing, he’d take it upon himself to give you a few sword lessons when he could spare a moment in his busy schedule. the clash of metal as your swords met and slow approving nods as you would begin to pick it up over time. 

“aye, good. just like that-.”

cregan’s patience and the gift of the rare time he could spare would be what he would do his best to give you. to provide you with the support he thought he could have used when he’d suffered that very grief himself. 

[deadsetobsessions]

He doesn’t know how they got here, but Jason’s thankful for it. It’s not often that he speaks to Cass, when Jason’s passions are words and righteous murder and Cass’s passions are distinctly not that, but when they do speak, they manage to get along. Somehow.

“So, why don’t you kill?” Jason leans back on the couch, his favorite mug filled with Alfred’s hot chocolate.

Cass is curled against the arm of the sofa. She looks at him, head tilted. Jason knows she’s reading him, but he’s not sure what she’s finding. It’s humbling, and intimidating, to know she sees more than what he allows to show.

“I can see,” she says. “That one time… I killed. I saw. Pain. Fear. Desp- des- not wanting to die.”

“Desperation?”

Cass nods. One of her fingers fiddle with the material of the couch. Jason knows she’s allowing him to see the motion. He knows it’s her silent way of showing him trust.

“There is more. To dying. Like… like they see their lives-They think- remembers. Loves. Their life- regret, love, everything. It goes through-” Cass taps her temple.

“Their lives are flashing through their heads?”

“Yes. Good. Bad. Everything. I see.” Quieter, Cass adds “I know. I know them, then. I killed a life that I know. They love. Everyone, have something they love. I kill, I kill that love.”

“That must suck.”

Cass leans back. She nods, neck releasing their tension and eyes less hunted, more accepting.

“Yes. I don’t want to- I don’t want to be the end.” Cass swivels her shoulders towards him, now. “Why… why do you?”

“Me?” Jason… hasn’t thought about it for a while, nor too deeply. But this is Cass. And her honesty deserves an honest reply. “I kill because some people shouldn’t be left alive to hurt and kill others”

“Not about… Bruce?”

Jason took a sip of his hot chocolate. Cass settled more into the couch, her eyes clear and watchful.

“It used to be,” he admitted. “About him, I mean. It used to be about vengeance. But then I came back to Crime Alley, and then I saw the kids getting hurt instead of being protected. They’re innocent. And then, it wasn’t about Bruce anymore. Killing is just the means to an end now, for me.”

“Do you- not regret?” She makes a gesture at his leg, where on a normal day, his holsters would be.

“I try to make sure I don’t kill people I’d regret, no. Like, you know how sometimes you guys arrest muggers?”

Cass nodded.

“Sometimes,” Jason said, remembering the days of digging through trash for food and the lingering hunger that rumbled through his younger self’s stomach. “They mug people because they’re desperate. I don’t kill those guys. But people deal to kids? Who hurt sex workers? Rapists? They’re doing irreparable harm, with full knowledge of their actions. For profit, mostly. If they’re willing to ruin lives, then they should be ready for their own to be ruined. It’s justice, for people like me.”

Cass studied him. “Justice…?”

“The only kind us Alley kids could ever appreciate. Arresting an abuser, a threat, and having that stick is for the privileged. Having that threat removed completely is relieving.”

“Can’t trust the world to be fair. But death, is fair.”

“Yeah. I think if I saw as much as you do, it’d be harder to do. But I think I’d still kill, because one person’s suffering after a life of being evil is worth the safety of so many others. To know… well, I guess I’m glad I don’t know what that’s like.”

“I see.”

“I know you do,” Jason grins at her. “But not killing is an act of courage too. Even if B makes it seem like it should come instinctually.”

“Yes. He does not connect, with Damian. Does not understand, fully, how hard. To unlearn.”

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence for a while after that, listening to the sounds of their family clambering around in other rooms.

“Hey, Cass?”

Cass turned back to him.

“I would kill David Cain for you.”

He would. It makes the Pit seethe when he thinks about how much David Cain and Lady Shiva hurt Cass for her to get this insanely good at reading people. He hopes she sees the pure honesty and sincerity he feels at that declaration

Cass puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezed once. Twice.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“No objections?”

“… would not feel too bad.”

Jason snorted.

“Yeah. You and me both.”

He doesn’t know how they got here, but he’s thankful for it anyways, because he understands his sister just that much more now.

[jacespookiebear]

.ೃ࿐ 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡: 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 4

summary : you are the youngest daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Aemma Arryn. Outlived your mother and your older twin brother, Baelon, in childbirth. You were titled as Y/n “The Undying” Targaryen.

pairing : jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader

warnings : incest, tension, age gap (reader is 3-4 years older), jace is about a year older in this fic, misogyny, self-harm, violence, angst, teen pregnancy, birth, meraxes is alive and thriving with vhagar :D

Masterlist

Lady Laena Velaryon had passed.

A sadden death to many, especially to House Velaryon. You had heard that she died by the hands of her dragon, Vhagar, rather than by child birth. Your Uncle, Prince Daemon, had to witness it. You frowned at the way he grieved during her funeral but you needed to remember that others have different ways of grieving and how qyou need to be there for your uncle and House Velaryon.

Though, Daemon wasn’t the only one who you needed to be there for. Jace was also grieving as well. Ser Harwin Strong had died in a sudden fire, along with the Hand Lord Lyonel Strong, in Harrenhal, on the same night they had arrived. Ser Harwin was dear to your sister, Rhaenyra, and her sons, and to you as well. He was nothing but ever so kind and made you feel safe around his presence. You did not want to cry but you could not help yourself, feeling Lysanna’s tug on your arms made you feel safe.

Daemon had laughed when they were reciting the eulogy during her farewell. He was a strange man from what you had witnessed. You watched from afar as he overlooked the sea. Without letting a sigh out—you held your breath as you walked towards him, only wanting to bring some sort of comfort to your dear uncle.

“I’m very sorry for your loss, uncle.” You slowly bowed your head, not wanting to look up at him but you did anyways, slowly. His eyes were already on you. The way he stared made you feel small in his presence, the way his eyes looked over to you, noticing your Valyrian features as he did so.

Daemon said nothing.

“It has been rather a long time since I had last saw you,” unable to stop your attempts, you walked closer to him. He continued to not say anything as he finally looked away. “It pains me that we had to reunite under these circumstances.”

With moments of silence, felt like eternity before at last, Daemon finally spoke, “It is true, what they say about you, the Realm’s Beauty.”

You felt yourself become warm at the sudden compliment, looking around to place your sight on—you saw your step-mother, whom looked back with disappointment, you were aware of her dislike of the Prince Daemon.

“Thank you, uncle,” you gave a small smile, “I hope to chat with you more.”

Daemon said nothing else, and nodded before he walked away. Your eyes never left the widowed man as he strode off but moments later, you found yourself near your young brother’s side. Lysanna was there as well, happily chatting with Aemond before Aegon had ruined it.

”We have nothing in common,” Aegon said with disgust, standing beside you, watching Helaena whisper to her long legged creatures she had found. Without much resistance, you gave him a soft punch in the side to force him to straighten up. You were told by Rhaenyra that Alicent had betrothed Aegon and Helaena, it was a way to show she rejected Rhaenyra’s proposal and it only crushed you to know Helaena will now have to suffer.

“You will respect her. She is to be your wife and bear your children!” you whispered and hoped no one could hear. There was no doubt that you had a few on-lookers who were watching you and Aegon. The younger prince sent you an annoyed look and nodded as if he will he listen to you.

“Our sister,” you started and he half-listened, “needs someone who will be able to at least do the minimum of honoring her.” you muttered, looking down at your feet as Aegon only scoffed. You cleared your throat in hopes of the tension to disappear, you decided it was best to move away but before you could, your brother forced you to look up at him by grabbing your jaw, the act made nearby guests look over—mainly your brother, your nephew, and Lysanna.

“Do you think you can manage?” he whispered, stealing a glance at your shocked expression. He watched knowingly as your confidence fades from your face at his comment. Replaced with fury and determination shining in your lilac eyes.

“Dear sister, you should remember,” Aegon continued as he did so, not bothering to care what the others might think of the scene. You quickly placed your hands on top of his, trying to pry him off. “You were once promised to me.”

You saw across the room, your nephew, who looked back at you with worry painted on his face. Jace started making his way towards the both of you, clearly with the intent of helping you until he was stopped by his mother. In mere seconds, you roughly shoved Aegon away, making him stumble. He did not care to look back as he almost tripped on his own feet.

“Wench! Another!” Aegon cried, continued stumbling while other guests watch with displeased looks. As you straighten your dress, you gave a smile to the guests—in hopes, that scene is now forgotten. Aemond shook his head in disappointment, and then his hand lightly held out for you. It’s only then that you realize that your young brother, Aemond, is trying to help you. Lysanna, quickly making you sit on the nearby bench and handing you water to help.

Aemond’s expression was confusing. He snuck a glance over his shoulder to give one last glance towards Aegon before staring at the sea. “I’ll handle Aegon soon,” he doesn’t look at you when he says this. You feel yourself tense at his words and you tried not to look shocked, instead you tried to seem strong for your lady-in-waiting and younger brother but it was much harder than you thought. “I promise, sister.”

You wanted to know his thoughts. Wondering what he is planning to get back at Aegon.

“It is alright, Aemond.” you smiled, confusion and sadness written all over Lysanna’s face. Aemond watched you try to reassure them that you were fine but they truly knew what you were feeling. It drove Aemond mad to the point he was shooting daggers at anyone who was peeking at you.

”I won’t let anyone hurt you.” that was all he whispered, he didn’t want anyone to hear what he had just said—including you and Lysanna.

You held tightly to Lysanna, who only hushed you to relax. She gently tangled her hand into your silver locks until you decided that you were okay and reluctantly, she let go and you made your way to Aemond.

“Listen, my sweet brother,” you softly kissed his forehead, he frowned. “forget what had happened.”

Aemond was still not convinced by your attempts, he honestly wanted to go up to Aegon and punish him for what he had done to you—Aegon publicly humiliated you. Your focus was soon taken off of Aemond and you see Vhagar with Meraxes, roaming the clouds as she wails sadly for her dead rider.

An idea popped in your mind, one that could certainly help your brother put his mind off what just happened, “Vhagar is now riderless,” you whispered, as you traced your fingers on his hands, “you should explore the island to find her and watch from afar.”

With the encouragement, Aemond became a little happy with what you said. Although, he couldn’t forget what had happened, he knew you wanted him to let it go but it was hard to—Aemond decided to drop it for now and nodded at your words. You placed a one final kiss on his forehead and watched him be on his way with Lysanna.

As for you, you decided to sit back down on the bench and look over at the crowd to ease your mind.

“What did Aegon do? I want the truth.”

Your nephew, slightly surprised you when he sat next to you. Jace gave you a stare—you tried so hard to avoid, you didn’t want to answer the young boy. Wanting to not give him any reaction but to no avail, you were tearing up.

“My Prince, it was a simple disagreement..it was nothing-..”

“I saw! He hurt you!”

“Don’t be foolish, Jacaerys. He was only whispering into my ear.”

Jace immediately grabbed onto your arm, squeezed it, he knew you were lying. He always knew whether you would tell the truth or not. “You don’t have to keep lying to me. I will always know.”

His tone sound determined but the look on his face told another story—he looked worried for you. You slightly shook your head and began picking at your skin to distract yourself, your skin became irritated by the minutes.

“I am fine, Jace.” you strongly assured, finally turning your head to face him, and gave him a sweet smile. “It is I, who should be worried for you.”

He did not answer back. You both sat there in silence, you didn’t know what else to say to help the atmosphere become better. It was dreary—like always.

”I saw you were with your cousins,” You slowly spoke up, watching the waves fall and rise with Jace looking at the same direction. As much as you tried to bring the mood up, Jace did not react.

“Mother only wanted for me to comfort them,” Jace claimed, you heard some annoyance in his voice as he said that. “I did not want to.”

The twins were continued to be comforted by their grandmother, Rhaenys—who mainly kept her focus on the girls during the whole funeral. It made you held sorrows for the girls—having to lose their mother at such a young age. It made you remember how you lost your own mother, and brother.

No…you did not lose them. You killed them.

“You should not be so cruel,” you answered as you took your attention off the girls. “It is likely that you will soon be betrothed to Princess Baela.”

Jace snapped his head to look at you, “What?!”

You only laughed at his reaction, “Yes! And then you both will marry and she’ll give you heirs to the Iron Throne.”

“I do not want to marry her!”

“But you must! My sister—your mother, would be a fool to not propose the idea.”

“If I marry her, it would be out of duty! Not out of love and never will be!”

Shocked—That was not the reaction you had expected. Jace did have a temper but it was rare when he would lash out on you. He let go of your arm with much force and stomp off as you called out for him to come back, wanting to just explain what you had meant and apologize. Though, you gave up.

Walking through the crowd, going unnoticed was particularly hard when guests would bow their heads to you or would try to talk. You were rather tired and wish to head inside the castle to rest. You were able to chat with your father before he decided to join you as well to head back inside the castle to also rest.

The cold air in your room nipped at your skin, but you were soothed by it.

Your handmaidens had started attending to you in your guest chambers that you share with Lysanna. They unlaced your black dress and helped you out of your corset while undoing your braided hair that was kept in a updo, naturally, your hair curled from the braids and it had looked very gorgeous on you. As they took off your underdress, you placed your precious rings by the bedside for safekeeping. The handmaidens put you in a silver nightgown that reached your knees and had extremely long silts on the sides of the gown, the chest area was lined with golden lace and a tied ribbon. As you thanked your handmaidens before watching them excuse themselves from your chambers, you were now underneath the covers of your bed that was facing the opposite direction to Lysanna’s bed.

The starry night sky outside the window had stolen your attention—you began to count each of the stars until you had the ability to fall asleep. You caught glimpse of a dragon roaming the skies once again, with your eyes squinted to see if you weren’t imagining it but you were right. The dragon was too big to be Sunfyre or Caraxes but too dark to be Meraxes or Dreamfyre.

It must be Vhagar having a nightly stroll, you thought. With a yawn, you began drifting into slumber. It felt like a quick nap until you were roughly shoved to wake up. From the sudden shove, you quickly opened your eyes to see your handmaiden, who looked rather scared. You had no time to react before she pointed to the hall for you to follow in pursuit.

Shoeless and robeless, you ran down the halls with your handmaiden leading the way before you stood in front of the great throne room of Driftmark castle, everyone was up, including the King.

“There she is—the Princess! I am sure she knows what had happened.”

“You dare accuse my daughter? She certainly had no part in this!”

Under the eyes of the people in the room, you felt naked in front of them. Wearing nothing but your nightgown.

Queen Alicent stared over to you, a frown upon her face “My dearest,” you were unaware of what was happening before Rhaenyra held onto your shoulder, protectively, as she glared at the Queen.

You look to see your nephews, holding onto each other—bloodied and frightened. The sight almost put tears in your eyes while your mind was racing with so many worries before you had turn to see Aemond, who was seated on a chair, with a wound that was stitched on his left eye. At the mere sight, you feel eyes widened and you immediately cried out,

“Aemond!” you yelled in shock and quickly ran to your brother’s side. Panicked, certainly, you looked at his stitches while your brother refused to face you. There was shame across his features as he said nothing to you. “What has happened to my brother?! Tell me who done this to the Prince?!”

“Ask your nephews, sweetheart.” Alicent had said, her voice full of sorrow as she glared at them from across the room. Looking across the room, you saw your nephews continuing to cling to each other. Their injuries were nothing compared to your brother’s but still, you couldn’t help but give them a sadden look, you were still worried for them. “They were the ones who permanently damaged your brother.”

“Surely…there’s must be a misunderstanding, my Queen..”

You did not have time to defend your nephews before Alicent grasped your shoulders. The gasps of the audience falling on deaf ears. You were forced to look inside the Queen’s desperate eyes.

“Have you encouraged Aemond to mount that creature? Speak the truth! The whole of it!” she shouted, pleadingly. You winced from the tight grip she had on you.

“I have no idea what you’re implying!” you said with confusion. Rhaenyra wanting to come to your rescue but quickly, Lord Corlys stopped her.

”Alicent! Let go of my daughter at once!” The King ordered, the Queen held her eyes upon you before she had finally let go of you. She began realizing what she had done to you, and softened her gaze before trying to soothe you by holding you into her arms. Whispering in your ears that she did not mean to hurt you and how she only wanted your piece of the truth.

“The Princess had nothing to do with it, cousin.” Lysanna quickly came to your defense. She absolutely looked petrified but tried staying strong—only for you. Her expression filled with emotions that it broke you into pieces.

“It is the truth.” Aemond added, he lied. For you.

As questions were asked, the children only started to shout many things:

“They attacked me!”

“He attacked Baela!”

“He broke Luke’s nose!”

“He stole my mother’s dragon!”

“He was gonna kill Jace!”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“I only wanted to see Liz!”

“SILENCE!” your father yelled, it echoed through the halls and it immediately shut everyone up. You all stood there—not knowing what to do or say. Your father turned to order Lysanna to speak of what happened.

With a nod, you let go of Lysanna as she was forced to be the center of attention, Alicent had kept herself nearby, wanting the truth so desperately.

“Aemond and I had came across Vhagar as we explored the island,” Lysanna explained, she clinged onto her fur coat as she spoke, “Aemond was successful on bonding with the large dragon, he wanted me to come along on dragonback. When we came back, the children were there, waiting for us…it was unfortunate, many harsh words were said..but it happened so quickly..I couldn’t do anything except watch.”

Once Lysanna had told what she had witness (though, you believed she left out very important details in hopes to protect the boys.) She stayed by your side, clasping her hand into yours, you felt her palm laced in sweat. She was nervous.

“Aemond called us…bastards.”

You froze. You turned to look at your nephew. He separated himself from Luke while staring in your eyes. You didn’t know what to say.

“Jace..” Rhaenyra cautioned and gently pulled him by his shoulder and brought him close.

Stunned silence filled the crowded room and you feel yourself struggle to process what Jace had said. You analyzed your nephews—Luke had blood covering his face, dried tears had stained his cheeks. Your poor nephew clouding your mind, the sweet child is the youngest out of everyone and yet had to hear those words from your brother.

Aemond flinched at the way your father spoke to him. He stared back at you, but he didn’t say anything, he knew you were disappointed in him. The expression on him was filled with shame when you turned away.

“You tell me, Boy. Where did you hear this lie?” Viserys demanded, Aemond only continued to sit in silence, “I asked you a question. Aemond, Look at me.” you winced at the way your father tried to pry the answer out of your brother, “Your King demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?”

He was hesitant to answer, looking over to his mother for help but quickly Viserys followed his gaze. Not only seconds later, Aemond finally answered,

“It was Aegon,” Aemond responded, “Right after he had put his hands on the Princess Y/n, as a fit of rage.”

Even if you were enraged with Aemond right now, he still kept his promise.

He was going to protect you. No matter what.

“What? Me?”

Aegon was baffled by the way Aemond quickly lied and threw him under the bus.

King Viserys limped his way towards Aegon—absolutely disgusted by what he was told. You had not expected the many eyes that were placed on you once again. But after hearing about the Prince assaulting you, it was to be expected. They had witness the developing bruise that was on your jaw and neck.

“And you, Boy?” Viserys seethed, his words filled with venom. You felt your hands tightly clinged to Lysanna’s. “You dare lay your filthy hands on my daughter? Your elder sister?” Viserys fumed, Aegon had avoided his fury gaze, avoiding to answer the King for what he had done to you. “And where did you hear such calumnies?…Aegon! Tell me the truth of it!”

In mere seconds after Viserys had yelled once again, Aegon was forced into spilling, but it was clear that he was nervous from the way he flinched,

“We know, father,” Aegon responded, “we all know..just look at them.” he turned to give your nephews a look of disgust, one that you would not forget.

Rhaenyra sighed as she comforted her young boys from the embarrassment that was laid upon them. You stared at your feet and felt someone hold your hand. Looking to your side, it was your nephew, your instinct had you quickly burying him in your embrace. A desperate sigh left your lips. Jace laid his head on your chest and held onto your waist, protectively. Even if the tension in the room became thicker because of what Aegon said, he tried his best to seem strong. His eyes filled of rage while they wondered on Aegon and Aemond.

Everything had come to a simmer when Viserys announced, desperately:

”This interminable infighting must cease, all of you! We are a family! Now make your apologies and show good will to another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it!”

Alicent tiredly scoffed and began pushing even more, “That is insufficient. Aemond has been damaged, permanently, My King. “Good will” cannot make him whole.”

Viserys turned around and looked at her, “I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye.”

“No, because it had been taken.”

”What would you have me do?” Viserys asked, exhausted.

“There is a debt to be paid.”

You watched eagerly as Alicent argue with the King. If you had not known what Aemond had spurred out then you would’ve understood the Queen and her frustrations. But your brother had accused your sister’s family. Serious accusations that could have them all killed.

A silence overtook the room once again and your eyes trained over to Alicent. She looked over at Rhaenyra.

“I shall have one of her son’s eyes in return.”

The crowd all collectively gasped.

Aemond looked towards your nephew. Jace’s heart pounded against his chest. Instinctively, wrapping your arms around your nephew, you held him close as you moved to stand in front of your other nephew, Luke.

“My dear wife,” Viserys’ eyes widened at her suggestion.

”He is your son, Viserys. Your blood!” Alicent sobbed.

Viserys walked towards her, “Do not… allow your temper to guide your judgement.” He warned, but it could not reach Alicent.

“If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will.” She insisted, “Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.” She ordered, mercilessly.

Luke panicked. You could see the fear in your sister’s eyes as she threw her sons, Lysanna and yourself behind her, as a way to protect all of you. You gave Lysanna a look of pure shock as she returned with the same look on her face as well. You both were still under the confusion of what is happening right now. Lysanna never knew this side of her cousin, Alicent.

“He can choose which eye to keep,” Alicent decided, “a privilege he did not grant my son.”

Rhaenyra sharply maintained her composer, “You will do no such thing.”

”Stay your hand.”

”No! You are sworn to me!” Alicent commanded.

Ser Criston muttered, with the intent of following orders from his Queen, “As your protector, my Queen.”

“Alicent, this matter is finished. Do you understand?” Viserys asked, firmly. Alicent returned the look back to him, figuring. “And let it be known, anyone whose tongue dares to question the brith of the Princess Rhaenyra’s children shall have it removed.”

“Thank you, Father.” your sister gratefully expressed , nudged the four of you to head to your chambers. Suddenly you heard screams of your youngest nephew. Frantic voices, terrified eyes, witnessing Alicent making her way towards you and your family. You came into view, trying to protect your family from the Queen until you were roughly shoved,

“Hold your approach—!”

”Do not, Ser Criston!”

You were now being shielded by Lysanna who faithfully moved her arm before you from Ser Criston who had tried to come after you, it seems, but your uncle caught on what the sworn knight was trying to do and immediately protected you by holding off Ser Criston. You panicked as Rhaenyra forcefully pushed Alicent back. The Queen had a blade in her hand. The same blade that your father had shown you many times since you were just a babe. A blade passed down from the Conqueror himself.

“You have gone too far.” Rhaenyra urged.

Alicent fought back, she looked exhausted, like she had finally snapped, ”I? Have I done? But what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law…as you flout all to do as you please.”

“Alicent! Let her go!” your father’s demands fell on deaf ears.

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again. You have poisoned my sweet cousin’s mind, took off with my daughter, and now you take my son’s eye, and to even that, you feel entitled.” Alicent continued.

Rhaenyra felt twisted at those words and only showed more authority.

”Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness.” your sister had whispered something that you cannot hear nor the people in the room. Once the two finally separated, the slice of the sword echoed in the room, you and Lord Corlys had immediately caught your sister before she could stumble, everyone all watched in fright as blood dripped from Rhaenyra’s arm.

The blood was as red as the color of your gowns, the gowns you wore of pride and honor to show loyalty to your house.

Once the weapon fell to the ground, Alicent had realized, she had hurt the Princess.

Your brother got up from his seat and made his way towards his mother, “Do not mourn me, mother. It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye but I gained a dragon.”

The words were now forever embedded into your head. Your face broke at the fact that this whole thing was mainly your fault.

If you had not encouraged your brother to the point that he took the liberty of even approaching the huge beast,

then his eye wouldn’t be gone, the question of your nephews’ parentage wouldn’t have finally been answered,

and the last essences of what bond the Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent had, was gone.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

On the day after, you had spoken only a few words. You were mute. Lysanna tried desperately to help you out of your mood, but you continued keep your head down and your lips were shut while in front of the vanity as she did your hair. Even when she let your nephews in the chambers, instead of quickly embracing them and giving them a bright smile, like always, you did not turn your head to greet them.

Luke turned to look at you with worry, tissues shoved up his nostrils. Jace’s forehead stained with dry blood while having bruises scattered around his face. You could not face them. You knew you caused it all. Your guilt was eating you up from the inside. You wanted to just curl up in a ball and sink in the tub.

“Please don’t be sad, auntie,” Luke frowned, as he placed his head on your lap, worriedly. “It hurts me to know I am the cause of your misery.”

With your eyes watery, you bit your lip in shame. You pet his head, gently, while you still kept your head from looking anyone in your chambers. You desperately hushed your nephew to not cry, you wish to be strong for Luke so you continued to keep your composer.

Lysanna startled once seeing her cousin, the Queen, enter the chambers, unannounced. She looked panicked and nervous from what you could see in the vanity mirror. Lysanna, protectively, stayed by Jace’s side as you strengthen your grip on Luke.

The Queen cleared her throat as she played with her fingers, refusing to make any eye contact with the young Velaryon princes who were staring over at her, “I wish to speak with the Princess,” she quietly explained herself, “if that is alright..”

“Liz, please escort the princes to their mother,” you ordered, with a gentle tone and Lysanna only nodded and took Luke’s hand before leading the boys out of your chambers.

“What is it that you wish to speak of, my Queen?”

“Please…my dearest, I only wish to see if you’re well-“

“I am feeling well,” you spoke over her, without turning your head to acknowledge her. “if that is all then you may go.”

You saw her from the mirror that her frown only appeared sadder, she eagerly scratched her hands from anxiousness while not making a move to leave. It irritated you to the point you wanted to yell at her to leave.

“Rhae-“ Alicent stopped herself quickly from finishing what she was about to say, she looked disappointed. You wanted to know what she was gonna say though, she looked like she regretted it.

You gotten up from your seat and made your way towards her, she took a step back from how close you were.

“Do you understand what you had committed last night?!” you frustratedly shouted, “You had hurt the heir to the Iron Throne and even attempted to take my nephew’s eye! You have gone mad!”

As she stood still, she muttered under her breath, “Nothing I could say would fix what had happened but I do feel guilt, I really do. I was exhausted and shouldn’t have hurt the Princess.”

You continued to look at her with disgust and anger. Alicent wanted to win your favor back, it was clear by the way she wished to have you in her arms, she wished to relive the memories where you were a child and begged for her warmth, where you would sleep in her bed many times, where you would always sit by her side after feeling lonely.

“My eldest daughter…” Alicent pleaded, you could not describe what emotions you wanted to show and what emotions you wanted to hide.

“But I am not your daughter,” you started, she looked shocked at your words, you ignored her, “why do you try to convince yourself—everyone around us, that I am?!” You asked, bitterly.

Tears ran down her cheeks, she looked so scared, “You are my miracle,” she promised, “once you were born, I made a promise, to you, to your mother, to the King, that I would see you only as my own.” Alicent sniffled, you looked so heartbroken from once she mentioned your late mother. “You are nothing but my eldest daughter and I will continue to see you as that.”

“You were something close I had to a mother…” you muttered, your voice was betraying you. It was cracked and your step-mother had only tried to reach out for you but gently, you shrugged off her touch and she quickly retrieved her hands. “Even if I see you as a mother, it does not take away what you had done last night. You and your father made sure that our house is forever split into two!”

“We could savor the bond! It is not too late, my dearest-“

“And what bond of there is left?!” you angrily shouted, “you had shattered the last remaining of it.”

“I am sure I can savor it,” she assured, panicked, “once I have, then, you can come back to King’s Landing!” she gave you a reassured smile, more like she wanted to reassure herself than you.

You scoffed at her words.

She kept pushing, “You could pick whom to take to wed. Or I could annul the betrothal of Helaena and Aegon, you could marry Aegon and be his Qu-“

You audibly gasped at her words and cut her off before she could finish, “My Queen, have you not heard?! Have you not remembered what he had done to me? To Liz? To Helaena? To the handmaidens? How could you love me and yet want to see me suffer!?”

She seemed to search desperately for a response, “You and Aegon are a far better match! You are among the only ones who could help him become stronger,” she defended, missing your point entirely.

“I am already betrothed.” you spit out. You spurred out anything that has come to mind, a lie. A lie that could have you punished heavily for it.

It was Alicent’s turn to gasp, she look shocked. Shocked from how she did not know this.

“This…”, she turned away from you as she spoke quietly, “..this cannot be…”

“To whom?”

You weren’t prepared for that question. You did not know who to say. It was too late. You gulped before answering,

“To the Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

LORDDDDDDD😭😭 hehehe tysm for over 100 followers I appreciate it sm <3 you guys are so sweet for bringing attention to this fic! I am literally working day and night to upload chapters quicker😩 I have already wrote chapter 5 and 6 (Ik so fast) all I have to do is proof read and send them to my friend to check it first lol!!

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[mollycabot]

Casey x sister reader

Messed with the wrong person

Y/N= your name Y/N/N= your nickname

A/N the Svu team deals with a lot of sexual assault case daily but what happens when a case they deal with that involves the victim in question is Ada Casey Novak younger sister. First law and order fan fiction hope you guys enjoy it. (Mentions of sexual assault and talks about being rape) and tiny mentioned of self harm not in great detail

It was just a other day on the job and Olivia and Elliot and the team where helping victims of sex crimes however a report came in of a breaking and entry into an apartment that is housed college students.

Olivia and Elliot went to the scene and was greeted with a girl covered in bruises and blood and naked leaning against the wall as the others where gathering evidence, Olivia went to talk to the girl Elliot gave her his jacket and Olivia warped her in a blanket as well to cover her up and to keep her warm.

“Hun can you please tell us your name and what happened?” Olivia asked the girl was in shock and confusion. “I don’t want to talk about and I don’t want my sister to find out.” The girl said scared.

Olivia then asked “who your sister sweetheart and this wasn’t your fault we going to find this guys and make sure he’s locked up for good” said Olivia.

The girl just sat there and said nothing Liv then went to carry the girl to the ambulance she looked to be no older then 20 at least feeling sorry for the girl she got int he ambulance and rode with her.

Once at the hospital the doctors checked her out and sent the rape kit off to the labs as Liv was taking her statement. “Hunny you need to tell me your name as this will make it easier for everyone.” Olivia said kindly and gently. The girl looked away from the detective. “My name is Y/N”. Said the girl and Olivia asked about her last name the girl took a breath and said, “it’s Y/N Novak.” Olivia stood shocked and look at the girl. Olivia then had to ask, “is your sister Ada Casey Novak?” Olivia asked the girl nodded and with that Olivia stepped outside the hospital room.

Olivia called Elliot who was back at the station.

“Hello Liv” Elliot said, “listen Elliot I got the girls name and last name and she Casey Novak younger sister and I know full well that Casey is going to go crazy we both know how much she loves her younger sister and wants to protect her at all costs and that this guy will be lucky if Casey hasn’t killed him.” Olivia said not knowing that Elliot phone was on speaker as he was busy writing up his report and not realising that Casey had heard the whole conversation the look of anger was an under statement.

“What the hell is this!” Casey shouted and Elliot look a taken back “what hospital” and what this guys name I want him getting the mix sentence he can get”. Casey shouted as she got her coat and head her way to the hospital.

Elliot phone Liv to let her know about the red head is on her way and is ready to kill someone,

As Olivia was stood outside the girls room Casey walked up and pushed Olivia against the wall. “Why the fuck did you not call me as soon as got the case!”casey demanded. “She didn’t want to give us her name at first and she was so badly beaten and shocked that she wasn’t in any frame of mine Casey you know how victims can be and I want to find this guy as much as you do but being angry isn’t going to help anyone.” Olivia said and with that Casey let go of the detective and walked into the room where she found her sister lying on the bed crying. Casey took a seat next to the bed and took her sister hand in hers.

“Y/N it’s ok your sister here and I’m going to make sure that no one hurts you ever again.” Casey said. The younger girl pulled herself up and try to give her sister a hug but hiss at the pain of her broken ribs Casey placed a gentle hand on her chest and gently pushed her down on the bed so she wouldn’t hurt herself more. “It’s ok Y/N I’m not leaving your side and can you tell who did this to you?” She ask.

Olivia came in with three cups of coffee Casey helped her sister sit up as Olivia handed everyone their cords and sat down.

“I don’t know there names but there where a group of boys who are in there final year of college the also very popular and went my ex and I broke off she went to tell them I was a lesbian and a piece of shit who is nothing but a worthless pile of trash and that I’m nothing compared to my sister and that I’m not a woman and that they will show me I’m a woman and then when I got home later in the evening I started working on my painting when I heard my door got broken and these two guys walked in and started trashing my place and destroyed my art works that I been working on and when I asked them to stop and leave the start to beat me up and one of them said well my lady it’s time to show you how an women is really use for and they started to rip my clothes off and I was fighting them so hard and shouting stop please stop they didn’t and then one of them stood over me with my lamp and bashed it over my head then I can’t remember anything after that”. Y/N said drink her coffee.

Olivia was shocked and Casey looked pissed and once the results of the kit came back it was positive for rape and that the where traces of semen but pregnancy and sexual transmitted diseases where negative. Which was a good thing meaning they have the evidence and that Y/N was going to be ok well as ok as she could be. Once Y/N was discharged from the hospital they all went back to the office and they started the case for this and Olivia and Elliot went to the college to start looking for the guys who did it.

While they where out Y/N was sat in Casey office with Casey. “Case can I borrow your clothes if you got some going spare and can I go take a shower?” Ask Y/N. “Sure Casey said want me to come with you and stand outside?” Casey said Y/N nodded and they headed straight for the showers. Casey was leaning against the sinks as Y/N was in the shower. “Y/N/N it’s been a while, I know this is hard and you might not feel clean but trust me all the dirt and stuff is long gone.” Casey said in a gentle tone knowing how the victims tend to be after an event like this. As Casey got no response she had a growing concern and she walked up to see her sister sat on the floor of the shower water pouring over her, her skin turning red from the hot water and her curled into herself with blood coming from her arms. Casey turned the shower off and warped her sister in a towel and picked her up and sat her on the sink given that Casey sister always struggled with mental health issues well before this event as her parents always saw her on the lower level and that she was a let down in not going down the same road as Casey.

But Y/N passion was for art and loved everything about art and Casey was always supportive. Once Y/N clam down Casey handed her the clothes and she jumped off the sink and went to the changing blocks and put the clothes on, once back in Casey office Casey took out the first aid kit and started to treat her sister arms.

After Elliot and Olivia caught the guys thank to Y/N’s roommate who installed CTV cameras in the living room of the apartment they where able to find the guys and got the attack on video with More then enough evidence of this they had definitely got the case In the bag.

At trial

Once in the courtroom everyone took there seats and Olivia and Y/N sat behind Y/N attackers and Casey after Casey showing all evidence and after Y/N give her statements the people decided the result of the trial and Y/N attackers where found guilty on all counts and where sentence to 20+ years in jail with out bail and Casey couldn’t be more happy to have got justice for her sister as the attackers where escorted out Casey turned and said you mess with the wrong person pal no one hurts my sister and gets away with it. Casey said angry at the men once court was over she meet up with Olivia and her sister.

Y/N ran and gave Casey a hug, “thank you so much case your are awesome at what you do and I appreciate everything you done for me right form when we where kids I love sister” Y/N said with genuine happiness Casey hugged back and said that she thankful for her sister and that she always here to protect her as she the light of Casey life. And her and Olivia and Y/N decided to got and get some food to celebrate the trail and that those attackers are away for a long time and will never hurt anyone again.

After that event Casey help her sister unroll herself form the course and help move her into her own apartment block not to far from Olivia and helped her move all her things and Y/N decided to carry on with her art life and Casey couldn’t be more proud of her and knowing she was close by and will never be far again Casey decided to stay over at her sisters for tonight as it had been an eventful day and eventful past couple of weeks.