#secret child

[francesminos-tt]

An outlined sequel to this

The actual fic is here

Aemond hates Lucerys and his bastard son. He mocks them, spreading vile accusations, smashing Lucerys’s plan to marry another high-born alpha. Meanwhile, Aemond gradually grows close to the bastard, Laenor, who has a striking resemblance of Lucerys as a child. Laenor likes to read, is fascinated by dragons but sadly doesn’t have one and diligently attends all training sessions. Aemond couldn’t help but see himself in the little boy. A boy with Lucerys’s look and Aemond’s character.

Aemond has his suspects, but every time he wonders if Laenor might be his son, he talks himself out of it. How could Laenor be his son? How could Lucerys love a son that is half Aemond with such devotion? Aemond is confused. He is supposed to hate Lucerys for taking his eye, but why his anger boils and his heart hurts when he learns Lucerys is being attacked by an angry mob? Aemond is even more confused when Laenor tries to tame Seasmoke, though the boy succeeds, he is badly injured so the stress triggers his presentation.

Aemond could smell the mix of sea salt, lemon, leather, peppermint and old parchment. He could smell himself and Lucerys on the boy. He knows.

When the boy cries for his alpha sire, despite Lucerys’s protests, Aemond hugs them with all he can. He realizes he never hates Lucerys. He loves the omega just like the omega loves him. He doesn’t care if Laenor was born out of wedlock. He would wed Lucerys ten times over if that means he could have the omega for all eternity.

 Meanwhile, it turns out that Aemond is not the only one who still wants to fight. Despite Otto’s unexpected death, the Hightowers managed to reserve most of their troops by bending the knee to Queen Rhaenyra without a fight. Now, five years later, as the ice on the Honeywine finally melts away, they are ready to strike again,

The Northerners have festered King’s Landing, the new Hightower lord would say, we are outnumbered, both in terms of men and dragons.

What do we do? The late king’s youngest alpha son, the dutiful Daeron asks.

We wait. The wolves will have to go back to their lair eventually. Once the capital is at its most vulnerable, we strike. The lord answered.

Daeron nods. And what of me?

You will go to King’s Landing, collecting allies, breaking down the enemy from within.

So Daeron goes. He attends the celebrating tourney as the mystery knight. He defeats all his opponents, the most difficult one being the Queen’s third son, Joffrey. The Queen welcomes her youngest brother, and Daeron proceeds to do what he was told.

He smuggles moon tea into Aegon’s drink, preventing his omega brother to conceive. He approaches Aemond, relaying conspiracies from Old Town. Jacaerys would grow impatient for lacking of an heir, and Aemond would gladly join in the rebellion for he loves his mother and he hates Lucerys.

But the wise lord miscalculates three things. First, Jacaerys remains loyal and caring for his omega. After some efforts and a miracle, Aegon gets pregnant. Second, Aemond refuses to be a pawn again. He has a mate and a son to protect now. Third, Daeron falls in love with Joffrey, the most feral and strong beta he ever knew. He confesses and proposes to lead the attack on Old Town if only the Queen could spare his mother.

Rhaenyra agrees but insists they go south together. Because the house of dragons is most formidable united, the Queen says.

[impyssadobsessions]

Phoenix Down- Chapter 5 Haunting Lie

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: Gen Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Danny Phantom

Relationship: Danny Fenton & Dick Grayson

Characters: Dick Grayson Danny Fenton Bruce Wayne Batfam - Character Damian Wayne

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort Angst Trauma Family Found Family but with a twist will deal with previous trauma Past Rape/Non-con Secret Child Time Travel Art dpxdc Parent Dick Grayson Guns Near Death Experiences

I didn't expect to get this out so soon but I've been in a dick mood <3

Excerpt:

“Danny!” His friends called out to him. Debris kept them from reaching him-weakly he pushed himself up to his knees.

A whirring sound came from in front of him. He couldn't stand up. What kind of hero froze in the face of danger? A bad one. He panted trying to force his body to move. He had to stop that machine before it destroyed everything. Yet, he felt broken. Terrified. He was failing everyone…

His eyes glanced between the faces he recognized around him. His friends, Sam and Tuck, his sister, Jazz, and… his parents. They stood behind a blockade of shields, being forced to stay back by the guys in white suits. He could hear his mother screaming. He gasped for air he didn't need, and clenched tightly at his burning chest. A white ring danced threateningly around his form.

No. This can't be it.

The whining of the machine grew louder. The infinite realms will be in danger. Amity Park will be destroyed. He had to get up. They needed him. Move Danny-

“I'm sorry little brother.”

No.

A bright green filled the room. Green. GREEN. SO MUCH GREEN! He couldn't breath, he couldn't think, he couldn't see anything but green. The endless pain. Ringing in his ears. Suffocating and being forced to breathe at same time. Feeling like he was melting alive but freezing to death.

Danny gasped awake, sitting up fast enough to make himself dizzy. He put a hand on his chest, relieved as he felt it thumping. He sunk down in the recliner, taking in his surroundings. His eyes snapping quickly to the only other living person, if he could call himself living, in the room. Dick laid on the couch with his head propped up on a cushion and a cover dragged from his bed draped over him. Besides the few coughs here and there, he slept soundlessly. The teen was a bit envious. Not enough to try and catch a cold himself, but he hadn't been able to rest well since the accident. He pulled his knees close to his chest and rested his cheek on his knees. He fiddled with the blanket he used to cover himself, while he stared out at the living room. He focused on the sound of the ticking cat clock and the warm orange hues casting through the blinds. He was alive. Half-alive. But alive. He had a body with a beating heart. His friends and family were safe. And most importantly, his eyes glanced at the offending cat clock on the wall. He had time. The teen buried his face into his knees with a groan. He just had to figure out what he needed to do in that time. He sniffled. He felt so overwhelmed. Was he doing the right thing? Last time he trusted someone, it didn't end well. But, he needed help. A lot more than he wanted to believe he did. His eyes glanced back at the man that worried himself sick. Danny tighten his grip on his legs. “Everything is as it should be.”Danny closed his eyes at the memory.

Read more on A03

[sjsmith56]

Summary - 2 part story. Four years after leaving Bucky, his former girlfriend arrives at the compound with two surprises.

Length - 2.75K

Characters - Bucky Barnes, named female character, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Sharon Carter, Helen Cho, Wanda Maximoff.

Warnings - angst, accusations of cheating, cancer, rejection, Bucky not handling the situation well, swearing.

Author notes - was supposed to be a one shot but it kept getting longer. Part 1 is going to be full of drama. If you like what you’re reading please let me know by commenting or reblogging.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Part 1

It was there in black and white. All the tests, all of the imaging that had been done; everything pointed to the same conclusion. Lane sighed, pursed her lips together in a grim smile then looked at the doctors.

“I would like a second opinion,” she said. “Could you send my file to Dr. Bruce Banner and Dr. Helen Cho of the Avengers?”

“You’re a patient of them?” asked Dr. Roberts.

“No, I was an agent at one time,” she replied. “They’ll look at it as a courtesy to me.”

“If they concur? Anything that can be done would only be palliative.”

“I understand,” said Lane. “I’ll be in touch.”

There was a ringing sound in her ears as she left the office and went down the elevator to the main floor. Before the door opened she took a deep breath and calmed herself. The nanny had Danny on her lap on one of the lobby chairs, reading a story to him. He turned his head when he heard Lane’s footsteps coming out of the elevator. Already, at 3 ½ years of age, he was displaying his abilities and he wriggled off Carol’s lap, running to his mother.

“Momma, are you done?” he asked. “Can we go for lunch? I’m hungry.”

“Sure, baby,” she smiled, kneeling down to his level. “We’ll get something to eat, then we’ll go to the playground, okay?”

She stood up, taking him by the hand, smiling at Carol, the nanny, who knew her well enough to know the news wasn’t good. Taking Danny by the other hand she looked at Lane as they walked towards the exit.

“What’s next?”

“Banner and Cho are going to look at my file,” replied Lane. “But I don’t think they’ll be able to do anything.” She glanced sideways at the woman who became her good friend this past year. “I know, I’ll have to tell him. I just … I just wanted Danny to have as normal a life as possible.”

As they stepped outside the building she looked up at the blue sky, feeling the sun on her face, and hearing the sound of birdsong in the trees. For a moment, she felt her throat constrict, at the thought of not being there for her son, but she swallowed it down. If Bruce and Helen couldn’t help her then she would tell Bucky, tell him what she had kept from him when she left the Avengers over four years before.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Bucky landed the quinjet on the platform of Stark Tower, then went through his checklist before shutting the aircraft down. Behind him he could hear people standing up, groaning and stretching after the long flight from Australia, where they had undertaken a humanitarian rescue in a gold mine, after it collapsed. Feeling a hand on his shoulder he looked behind him at Steve’s face.

“Beers?” he asked.

“Yeah, but shower first,” replied Bucky. “I swear I’m still caked with the dirt from the rescue.”

Grabbing his go bag he followed the others out and they made their way to the residential level, all of them crammed together into the elevator. With being pretty ripe from the long flight they all held their breath as best they could before streaming out of the opening doors. After entering the door code of his quarters Bucky dropped his bag off inside the door, toed off his boots and stripped down as he walked, coveting the warm shower that beckoned to him.

Fifteen minutes later, with clean clothes on he stepped out of his quarters and headed to the lounge area. Steve already had several beers on the counter, handing one to Bucky and Sam who was right behind him. As others followed he gave them a beer and they all fell onto the big sectional couch, taking long pulls of the refreshing beverage. Just as Bucky took a second long drink of his bottle Friday interrupted the quiet of the gathering.

“Sergeant Barnes, would you please report to the medical lab?” the voice asked. “Dr. Banner wishes to see you.”

“Why?” asked the super soldier. “I just sat down and want to relax.”

“Yes sir,” replied Friday. “I’m not a liberty to state the reason except it is important that you report there.”

Draining his beer Bucky stood up and placed the bottle on the counter, scowling as he headed to the elevator. When it opened on the floor of the medical lab he was surprised to see Bruce, Dr. Cho, and Tony Stark all together in the lab. There was a fourth person in there but they were seated and he couldn’t make out who it was from outside the sliding doors.

“What’s so important that I had to come up here?” he asked as he entered.

Then the fourth person stood up and faced him, leaving him almost speechless.

“Hello, Bucky,” said Lane, her voice tentative. “I asked for you to be here.”

“What the hell? You walk out of my life over 4 years ago, without a word and suddenly you’re demanding to see me? What’s going on?”

“Sit down, Barnes,” said Tony, tersely. “Lane thinks you should have a say in this. I don’t agree, but I’ve been overruled.”

“A say in what?” asked Bucky, feeling the anger bubble up inside him.

“I’m dying,” said Lane, deciding to rip the bandage all the way off. She took her wig off so he could see her lack of hair from the radiation treatment she endured. “It means that our son should be with his father.” Bucky said nothing but he was shocked at her almost bald head and his face turned a brilliant shade of red. “You’re a father. His name is Daniel James, and he’s 3 ½ years old. If you don’t take him I’ll have to put him up for adoption.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his heavy breathing indicating how precarious his control was at that moment. Then he looked at the other three. “Did you all know?”

“It was my decision to keep it from you,” said Lane. “They only found out after he was born, and I asked them not to tell you. I wanted him to have a chance at a normal childhood. That wasn’t going to happen with how you were then.”

“How I was then? I was in love with you!” Bucky was shouting now. “You were it for me. Then I come back from a mission and you’re gone. Everything belonging to you, gone. Why?”

Lane closed her mouth in a grim line and shook her head. She knew it would be like this. Taking a deep breath she straightened her posture to appear as tall as she could and looked him in the eye.

“You were so in love with me that you slept with Sharon when I went to see my mom before she died,” she stated calmly. “You didn’t even take her panties out of the bed, Bucky. I found them there when I changed the sheets when I got back. Our sheets reeked of her perfume. You cheated on me.” She turned away, angry at herself for thinking this was a good idea. “Forget it. I’ll find someone to adopt Danny, someone who won’t lie or sneak around with another woman.”

“I didn’t sleep with her,” he said, his voice breaking. “She was in the bed waiting for me and I walked out. I slept on Steve’s couch until we went out on a mission. You can ask him. Please, Lane, I didn’t cheat. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

She kept her back turned to him, trying not to break down. The others watched him, not sure what to believe then Bucky turned around and went to the elevator, returning to the lounge area. Practically storming to where the others were he glared at Sharon Carter, his lip curled in fury.

“It was your fault,” he sneered. “Your little stunt made Lane leave me. I loved her and wanted to marry her but you didn’t respect that. Because of you I wasn’t there for her when she gave birth to my son. Did any of you know?” He looked at Steve as the others tried not to make eye contact with Bucky. “Did you know I was a father and you didn’t tell me? Did you all think I slept with Sharon?”

“Buck, I didn’t know that Lane had a baby,” said Steve. “I’ll tell her you slept on my couch after finding Sharon in your bed, but I didn’t know that’s why she left. Lane left all of us without a word.”

“Not all of us,” interjected Wanda. “It wasn’t for us to tell you. It was Lane’s decision to leave and her decision not to tell you she was pregnant. I’m sorry.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Bucky’s face went dark with betrayal and anger.

“Fuck you all.”

Turning around he went to his room and repacked his go bag, converting it to a backpack, then put his leathers and motorcycle boots on. Taking the stairs he went down to the garage, mounted his motorcycle and started it up. Steve came out of the elevator, stopping in front of him.

“Don’t do this,” he said. “Don’t fly off the handle. You have a chance to make it better but if you leave ….”

“If I leave, what?” demanded Bucky. “She was everything to me. Now I find out that she thought I was cheating on her. I have a son that she’s giving up for adoption because she’s dying and she’d rather a stranger have him than his own father. How do you think that makes me feel, Steve, huh? I have nothing now, nothing to keep me here.”

He glared at Steve until the blond stepped aside then roared out of the garage on his motorcycle, barely waiting for the automatic door to open. Closing his eyes and shaking his head Steve turned back to the elevator and went up to the medical level, hoping to catch Lane before she left. She was still in the medical lab, crying as Tony hugged her. Right away Steve noticed she had no hair on her head and his heart dropped. When Steve entered Tony looked angrily at him.

“I told you something like this would happen when you first vouched for him to be an Avenger,” he said. “We couldn’t trust him.”

“He didn’t sleep with Sharon,” stated Steve. “We were working out and came back to the rooms to shower. He found her already in their bed, told her to get the hell out, and left. Until we went on a mission he slept on my couch. I’m guessing she left her underwear in there to cause the rift. Not that it matters now. He’s gone.”

Lane stopped crying and turned to Steve. “What do you mean, gone?”

“He packed a bag, put his leathers on and rode out on his motorbike. According to him he now has nothing to keep him here, since you would rather have a stranger adopt your son than have Bucky take him.”

Lane buried her face in her hands, certain that she had destroyed any possibility of making amends with the man she still loved.

“Friday, call Sharon Carter here,” said Tony. “Might as well confirm it from one of the guilty parties.”

“Tony ….”

Steve shook his head, angry at the way Tony automatically assumed that Bucky was in the wrong. Then he remembered what his friend had said about Lane.

“Is it true? Are you dying?”

She nodded her head. “The same breast cancer that killed my mother. Even though I had a double mastectomy and radiation treatment it metastasized. It’s everywhere. I have months left. I was hoping … I don’t know what I was hoping for.”

The sliding glass doors opened and Sharon Carter walked in, then almost walked out when she saw Lane.

“No, you get in here,” said Tony. “I want the truth and remember Friday can tell when someone is lying. Did you sleep with Bucky while Lane was visiting her dying mother?”

All sorts of emotions played over Sharon’s face as she looked from person to person, then she finally shook her head.

“No, I was waiting for him but as soon as he saw me he told me to get the hell out,” she admitted. “I left my panties there and sprayed the sheets with my perfume, hoping Lane would leave him so I could be with him instead. After she left he wouldn’t even look at me. I’m sorry.”

Tony was furious, at himself as much as at Sharon. “Pack your stuff and get out,” he said. “I don’t care where you go but we can’t trust you to have our backs.”

“Please, it was a mistake,” she protested. “I haven’t tried anything like that since. Being in the Avengers is all I have.”

“No, I don’t want you here,” he said. “Because of you a good man has left the Avengers, and a small boy is without his father.” He looked sarcastically at Steve. “I know, I’m not much better as I didn’t believe him but I’m willing to try to fix this. Getting rid of her is the first step.”

“Steve, please, don’t let Tony do this,” cried Sharon. “You’re a team leader. Tell him I’m not like that anymore.”

“I wish I could,” said Steve. “Sorry, but I’m with Tony on this. Bucky wasn’t the only one you did this sort of thing to.”

Sharon turned red. “I don’t know what you mean,” she declared, breathing audibly.

“Peter and MJ,” replied Steve. “He told me. The kid was practically shaking with anger that you would do that. You should go, Sharon. Otherwise, we’ll have to put it to a vote and you don’t want to know what the others think of you.”

“Fine, I’m going.” She turned around then looked back, her face full of disgust. “You’ll regret this. I know a lot of your secrets.”

“Be careful who you threaten,” warned Tony. “Friday, remove all access to the facilities, including computer access and anything else that has been granted to Sharon Carter. She can get into her room to get packed but once she leaves the building remove that as well. You signed an NDA when you became an Avenger, Sharon. You say anything, I have every right to sue you for everything you own, and make it impossible for you to work anywhere ever again.”

Tony called security to escort Sharon to her quarters to pack and escort her out. Then he faced Lane, placing both his hands on her upper arms.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “If you had told me this four years ago I would have dealt with it then.” He glanced at Bruce. “Are you sure there’s nothing that can be done?”

Bruce and Helen looked at each other uneasily. “A long shot,” he replied. “I can try to recreate the serum using Steve’s blood as he has type O blood, universal donor. But we don’t know if we have the time to do it before ….”

“How much blood do you need?” asked Steve immediately, his attention focused on Bruce.

“A unit, from both of you,” he said. “We’ll test it on your blood first, Lane, but I can’t promise anything. I mean I worked years on the serum and look what it did to me. My track record isn’t that good.”

Lane’s lips trembled. “The only other treatment for me is palliative,” she stated. “Even if you just buy me time that’s more than I have now.”

While Bruce and Helen took their blood Tony used Friday to track Bucky by his vibranium arm. He was on one of the expressways.

“Take one of my cars,” said Tony to Steve. “I’d go but I don’t think he would take my apology.”

“I’m coming with you,” added Lane. “The first to apologize to him should be me.”

As soon as the two of them gave their blood they went down to the garage, taking one of Tony’s vehicles. While they drove out of the parking garage, Sharon Carter was put into a taxi, never to return to Stark Tower again. With Friday tracking Bucky they followed his route until the AI informed them that he arrived at a destination, hoping he didn’t do something stupid before they got there.

Part 2>>

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[stardxxstbae]

WITH ARMS WIDE OPEN ✦ cl16

CHAPTER 2: RUMEURS

Previous: Chapter 1

"A SURPRISE IN PARADISE! AMÉLIE DUPONT, THE FAMOUS DESIGNER, RETURNS TO MONACO WITH A SWEET TREASURE."

Monaco is in the midst of a whirlwind of emotions with the triumphant return of talented designer Amélie Dupont. However, what has left everyone speechless is not only her return, but also the adorable baby she carries in her arms!

Since her departure a few years ago, Amélie has kept a low profile, but it seems that destiny has brought her back home to Monaco with a beautiful baby in her arms. And while rumors and speculations about the baby's paternity have circulated, the names of two prominent men have been mentioned: Charles Leclerc, the talented Formula 1 driver, and Esteban Ocon, another prominent figure in the racing world.

Amélie, known for her success in fashion design and her unmatched charm, has kept her personal life private for a long time. But her return to Monaco has sparked a whirlwind of questions about who the lucky father of her precious baby is.

Some close sources suggest that her past love story with Charles Leclerc may have left a gift that has been kept secret until now. Other rumors point to a close friendship between Amélie and Esteban Ocon, leading to even greater intrigue about the baby's paternity.

Although Amélie has chosen to keep the details of her personal life private, we can't help but be excited about this new chapter in her story. Who will be the true father of the baby? What will this mean for the relationship between Amélie, Charles, and Esteban? Only time will reveal the truth behind this fascinating story.

"Those nosy motherf...!" she exclaimed with annoyance as she closed her laptop and set it aside.

"Matteo, leave your sister alone!" shouted Charlotte, Amélie's mother, from the kitchen.

Matteo looked up from his phone and frowned, causing his sister to giggle.

"What? I didn't do anything!" he defended himself. "Tell her!"

"It wasn't him, Mom."

Charlotte walked over to the dining room, curious about what was happening. Amélie wasn't someone who easily lost her patience. She was calm and focused, so seeing her yelling wasn't common unless it was Matteo who was bothering her.

"What's going on, then?" she asked, sitting in front of her two children. Matteo shrugged.

"She's crazy," he muttered, earning a small slap from his mother.

"The magazines have started talking; there's a photo of me with Eliane from the day I arrived," she murmured sorrowfully. "Of course, they've begun speculating about the possible names of Eliane's father."

Matteo grimaced as he took Amélie's laptop and opened it again to read whatever had upset her. He let out a couple of expressions of surprise as his eyes scrolled down that column of words whose sole purpose was to feed the morbid curiosity of others.

"What do they care about who the father is?" he complained, leaving the laptop where he had found it before.

"That's why I didn't want to bring Eliane," she whispered, visibly worried.

Their peace had lasted only four days, during which she had wondered how long it would take for the news of her return to be in the tabloids. She had tried to be as careful as possible to prevent something like that from happening, even avoiding going out with the baby at all costs.

"I have a friend at La Gazette," Matteo said, immediately taking out his phone. "I'll talk to her and see if we can get the article taken down."

"Thank you, Teo, but even if they agreed to do it, I'm sure everyone in Monaco already knows about it," she slumped back in her chair and sighed heavily. "At least Esteban's name is being mentioned."

The younger Dupont almost choked on his orange juice upon hearing that, as he was also unaware of the identity of his beloved niece's father. He had never wanted to speculate, as he believed his sister must have had a good reason for keeping it a secret.

"Esteban is Eliane's father?" he asked, astonished.

"For now..." Amélie replied.

"For now?" Matteo repeated, his mouth still full of food.

"Matteo, don't speak with your mouth full!" their mother scolded him, pinching his ribs.

"Hey!"

Amélie looked at her mother for support, and Matteo noticed the complicity in their gazes. He pointed at both of them while still coughing.

"Darling... I think if you and Eliane are going to be here for a while, it's better to tell your brother and your father who Eliane's father is," Charlotte said, taking Amélie's hand across the table. Amélie looked at her with sorrow, and her mother nodded, smiling to give her some encouragement. "If they don't know, things will only get more complicated."

Amélie knew that was true. If she maintained her facade completely, she would prevent anyone from revealing details that could let people know that Eliane was Charles' daughter. She would only be visiting for a few weeks, so as long as Charles didn't cross her path, everything would be perfectly fine.

The blonde sighed and nodded gently, shifting her gaze from her mother to her brother, who was looking at her expectantly.

"Eliane is Charles' daughter," she said simply, causing Matteo to have another coughing fit. "Oh, for God's sake..."

"You can't expect me to react any other way when you're giving me news like this," Matteo slapped his chest, trying not to choke further. "Why doesn't he know? Didn't he want to take responsibility? That idiot..."

Matteo stood up from his chair, and his mother hurried to make him sit down, gesturing for him to let Amélie speak.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked.

Amélie immediately shook her head and gathered the courage to tell the story. She couldn't help but cry, pausing from time to time to wipe her face. She told him the reasons why she had decided to leave, she told him how Arthur had been helping her, and she also told him how Esteban had agreed to help. In the end, Matteo ended up crying with his sister as he embraced her. Their mother had left them alone because it was a moment between siblings, after all, she was already aware of everything. Matteo couldn't believe that his sister had to go through all of that alone, only to now endure people pointing at her in the street, questioning her about the father of the child.

"Why don't you tell him?" the younger one asked seriously. "It's a big secret, Mellie..."

"I know, but if I had ruined his career back then, imagine now," she said through tears. "You have to understand, you see him on the track every weekend. He's at the peak of his career, and I believe he can win the championship this year. I don't want to ruin everything by suddenly showing up with a baby and asking him to be her father overnight."

Matteo pondered for a moment, knowing that what Amélie said about Charles was true. As a Formula 2 driver himself, he knew how well Charles was doing, and like Amélie, he believed that this could be Ferrari's year.

"I know that if he had to choose between you and a championship with Ferrari, he would choose you," he said.

"We don't know that, Teo."

"No, Amélie, believe me," he assured her, taking her hand. "He hasn't been the same since you left. We're not very close... But on the few occasions we've gone out partying... Charles always ends up crying your name, Mellie."

The blonde's heart stopped for a second because she had indeed seen in the gossip pages how many parties the driver attended. She had thought he was enjoying all the things he couldn't do while being with her. But now that Matteo was telling her this, she wondered how broken she must have left Charles' heart and how much he must hate her.

"Take it easy," her brother comforted her, seeing the shattered expression on her face. "Whatever will happen, will happen."

______________

"Do you know why I can't access any news websites?" he asked, looking at his phone as he sat down next to Pierre.

"Yeah, it's because I blocked them," he said, taking a sip of his orange juice, shrugging his shoulders.

Charles opened his eyes in surprise, puzzled by his friend's strange behavior in recent days. First, Pierre had decided it would be a good idea to spend a few days with him in Monaco, something he never did. Gasly was more of a one-day visitor, at most two, except for race week. Then, he had removed him from all the Monaco WhatsApp groups and had a serious conversation with Joris, although Charles never found out what they talked about. And now, he was blocking him from accessing the news.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" he asked, his tone serious.

"Of course," Pierre set aside his breakfast and leaned back in his chair. "We want to avoid collateral damage."

"Collateral damage? Who are 'we'?" Charles' face remained puzzled, prompting Pierre to continue speaking.

"It's about Amélie. Carlos and I want you to find out things directly from her, not through a bunch of gossip websites that have nothing better to do than talk about people's lives."

"But how am I supposed to talk to Amélie? You won't even let me go out," Charles said, picking at his fruit with his fork but not eating it. "And I don't think she wants to see me either."

Pierre narrowed his eyes and looked at him suspiciously. Charles furrowed his brow and turned his attention back to his food, feeling strangely judged by his best friend.

“Something about the way your relationship ended still doesn't sound right to me," the Frenchman declared, shaking his head. "How is it possible that your mind failed you so much that you decided to cheat on Amélie?"

Charles never told anyone the true reason for his breakup with Amélie. People in Monaco had quickly started inventing endless rumors about her, saying that she had abandoned him because she never loved him, labeling her with the worst things. Of course, he wasn't going to allow that, so he quickly spread the rumor that he had been the one who mistreated Amélie. That way, if she ever returned, no one would point fingers at her in a negative way.

"Men are stupid," he shrugged, not lifting his gaze from his plate.

"Yes, but you're smart and sentimental enough to do that to the love of your life. You idolized Amélie, you treated her like a treasure."

“But I was stupid," he raised his voice, and Pierre understood that he should drop the subject. "What is it that I can't know, according to you guys?"

“Charles...”

“Does she have a boyfriend? Is she married? Tell me!”

“No! That's precisely why we don't want you to see things on the internet," Gasly complained. "You get all worked up."

“Who gets all worked up?” Max's voice came from behind Charles, and the Dutchman placed a hand on his shoulder, earning a half-hearted smile from the Ferrari driver.

“Charles, when he hears Amélie's name.”

Max looked at Pierre, surely he had also read the article about Amélie's return to Monaco. That's why Pierre made a gesture to let Verstappen know that he shouldn't talk about it.

“Max, Pierre is being completely irrational. He blocked the news websites so I wouldn't know anything about her," he complained like a little child accusing his brother. "Is there something I should know? It seems important if you want to hide it from me so much.

“Baseless rumors," Max shrugged as he called over one of the waitresses at the club. "But I'm with him on this, it's a... sensitive topic.

“Don't say that, it will only make him more anxious" Pierre said as if it were obvious, and Max rolled his eyes.

“I'm right here, don't talk about me as if I were a baby”

Max chuckled at the mention of that word, and Pierre discreetly hit him under the table.

“Well, I'm not in the mood to put up with this today," the Monegasque finally said, getting up from the table. "Let me know when you stop acting like two idiots”

“Sure, let me know when you've gotten over Amélie," Pierre teased harmlessly as Charles walked away.

Leclerc stopped a few meters ahead and returned to the table under the watchful gaze of both drivers.

"If you see Amélie, let me know too," he said sorrowfully, and then left before they could say anything to him.

"He's a fucking mess," Verstappen muttered as he watched him walk away.

"Yeah, he definitely is."

______________

The winter in Monaco was not ruthless, but one couldn't stay outside all the time like in the summer. After a while, the cold started to seep into the bones, and the wind blew stronger, especially in the Dupont's house, which was located in a higher area, making the air feel even chillier than in other parts of the principality.

It wasn't that Amélie wasn't prepared for the cold because she knew Monaco well. However, when one becomes a mother, they tend to put themselves as the last priority. For Amélie, it was more important to ensure that Eliane had warm clothing before going out in the cold weather, even if it was just for a few seconds. In her haste to get Eliane ready, she often completely forgot to bundle up herself. She would simply grab the first sweater she could find, without paying much attention to its effectiveness.

"Come on, Eli, it's very cold out here" the blonde complained as she adjusted her sweater.

The little girl searched behind the bushes for the small animal that had been inside the house all morning but now seemed to want to escape from the child.

"Where cat?" she asked, looking at her mom. It seemed like she had given up on trying to find it herself and it was time to call the one who knew everything.

"The cat has already gone back home, and we should do the same, or we'll get sick," her mother pleaded in the sweetest way she could.

"I want pet" the younger one complained, looking around for any sign of the animal. "Pet, Mommy."

"Perhaps the cat doesn't want to be petted right now," she finally said, approaching her to take her hand.

"Why?"

Amélie chuckled; it was only a matter of time before Eliane started questioning everything, regardless of the answer she gave, the little girl would always have another question.

"Because he's in a bad mood," she replied, gently tugging at her hand, internally grateful that Eliane started walking.

"Why?" came the persistent question.

"Because cats can also be in a bad mood, just like you when you're hungry," she mentioned, and the girl stared at her intently, eliciting a giggle. "We shouldn't bother them when they..."

The girl quickly let go of her hand and ran towards the entrance of the house. Amélie immediately looked up to see what had caught her little one's attention.

She wasn't surprised to see the younger Leclerc holding slices of cake in one hand and balloons in the other—a giant daisy flower with a smiling face and a transparent one that said "Welcome Home," with smaller yellow balloons inside.

"ThurThur!" the girl exclaimed, running towards her uncle. Amélie followed closely behind. "Up up!" she said, raising her arms towards him.

Arthur didn't hesitate to entrust his things to Amélie as he lifted the girl and embraced her.

"Thank you?" Amélie murmured, looking at the items.

"How are you, beautiful?" he asked, planting a kiss on her cheek. The girl giggled and nestled into his neck. He then turned to look at Amélie. "Oh, you're here too."

"Rude," Arthur burst into laughter and approached Amélie to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. "What's all this?"

"I wanted to welcome you," he shrugged, stroking his niece's back. "The balloons are for Eliane, and the tiramisu is for you."

Amélie smiled, touched by Arthur's thoughtfulness. It had been too easy for her to consider him a part of her family after he left Monaco. She held a great affection for Arthur and mentally punished herself whenever she had the chance, knowing that he was in a difficult situation because of her. But it also warmed her heart to see Arthur treat her niece as if she were his own daughter.

"I also wanted to ask if we can take Eli out for a walk," Amélie immediately tensed up. "Charles will be at the club until late tonight."

"Arthur, I don't want people to see us together and start speculating that you're also Eliane's father," she nervously requested. "And for some reason, I don't want us to run into him."

"I promise he won't be around. We can go to Princesse Antoinette Park. There won't be many people, and Charles doesn't visit that park often," Arthur suggested.

"Arthur..."

"Please, Amélie, Eliane deserves to know her home," Arthur pleaded. Amélie was about to argue when Arthur spoke again, "I don't mean Milan with its many buildings. I mean her true home."

She didn't know if it was worth taking such a risk. She had spent all this time keeping Eliane as far away as possible from the curious gazes of people, and now she was contemplating risking it all for a few minutes of entertainment.

"Mellie," her brother's voice called her attention. "Elie can't continue living in seclusion. She can't come to the place where her mom was happiest and stay locked up in the house all day."

Arthur looked at her brother gratefully, and he nodded gently.

"Teo..."

"We have an escape plan. Everything will be fine."

"we go?" Eliane asked, looking at her two uncles.

Amélie sighed heavily and nodded her head gently.

"Okay..."

______________

He didn't know why he ended up there. He supposed it was because of his search for tranquility, the desire to be away from everyone for a moment. He felt frustrated because the conversation he had with Pierre a couple of hours ago had left him with many unanswered questions wandering in his mind. They were definitely hiding something big from him, and not knowing what they were referring to made him overthink everything.

Could Amélie be married? Could she have a boyfriend?

Just thinking about it made his stomach churn. The thought that he hadn't been good enough for her shattered his soul. Because it didn't matter if others saw him as insignificant, as long as he was enough for Amélie, everything was fine. But when he ceased to be enough for her, it felt like ten buckets of cold water were being poured over him, one after another. Suddenly, Charles Leclerc was no longer the confident guy who raced for Sauber.

He had been fine for a while, trying to convince himself that everything was okay and that maybe it was for the best. But over time, depression and anxiety attacks became more constant, and being good on the track wasn't enough because he knew that everyone out there loved him for the victories he could achieve, for how high he could elevate the name of his team. They didn't really care about Charles Leclerc; they only cared about il predestinato.

Far from all the suffering he went through with Amélie's departure, Charles only wished for her happiness. He knew she had achieved her dream because he had read about her work in the news, so he hoped that being apart from him had been beneficial for her, that she had a good life, and of course, he hoped to see her again. Charles held onto the hope that, upon seeing her again, the feelings would resurface. Perhaps he had watched too many romantic movies, perhaps he was clinging to something impossible, but being with Amélie always felt like the most beautiful romantic movie. So why not indulge in the illusion of a fairytale ending?

He adjusted his beanie over his ears as a gust of wind blew in. The temperature was dropping rapidly, so he probably wouldn't stay in that place for long. He would just appreciate the view a little longer and then leave.

He sighed deeply, crossing his arms to seek more warmth.

"Come, kitty, come."

The little voice made Charles turn his head, and there he found a small girl. She was wearing a brown overall over a gray sweatshirt, white shoes, and a matching hat, with a few strands of blonde hair peeking out. The Ferrari driver smiled at how curious she looked as she chased after a white cat that seemed to be playing with her.

He looked at her for a moment, feeling touched by the scene, then he snapped out of it and realized there was no one near the girl. He looked around and couldn't find any adult who seemed to be looking for her.

The cat ran between Charles' feet, quickly darting through the bushes that separated the park from the streets below. The girl ran after it, and Charles instinctively stopped her.

"Cat running!" she exclaimed, pointing at the animal as it leaped far away from there.

The racing driver's heart raced, and he took a moment to recover from the momentary fright.

"Come on! Cat!"

"We can't go there, ma jolie," he said gently as he lifted her off the ground. "Look, it's very high," he pointed downwards.

"Why?" she asked, looking at him intently, trying to figure out where she recognized the man's face from, as she was sure she had seen him before.

"If you go there, you can get hurt," he explained kindly. "Where is your mom?"

The girl then seemed to become aware of her mother's absence and started looking around, her little chest rising and falling quickly as she desperately searched. Her eyes became watery, and her hands started trembling.

"Calm down, sweetheart, we'll find your mom and...

"Eliane!"

The woman came running and practically snatched the girl from Charles' arms. He didn't blame her; if he were a father, he would have reacted the same way.

"She was chasing a cat and almost ran over there," the Ferrari driver explained.

The girl's mother was squatting down, examining her daughter from head to toe while muttering several curses in Italian.

"Don't worry, she's fine. I stopped her in time."

"You have no idea how grateful I ..."

The woman lifted her face, and both she and Charles were petrified.

It was her, it was Amélie, his Amélie.

His heart raced, and he felt his head spinning. It was as if the blood in his body had decided to abandon him at that very moment. A dreadful tingling sensation ran through him from head to toe, and his eyes began to fill with tears.

He couldn't believe that she was standing in front of him after all this time. He never thought he would see her again, let alone this close. For a moment, he wondered if he had started drinking again and was dreaming. He wondered if he had finally gone crazy and was hallucinating her.

"Charles..."

It was the sound of her voice that made him realize that this was real. He knew it because, much to his dismay, Charles knew he was forgetting how her voice sounded. He no longer dreamed of the sound of her voice. But now that he heard it again, it was as if it had never stopped. It was like a melody in a music box, waiting for someone to wind it up and work its magic once more.

"Ma petite lune..."

Next: chapter 3.

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Ideas #44: HotD, but make it The Brady Bunch

I have many, many feelings regarding House of the Dragon. Most of them involve the toxic nature of the patriarchy and the inability of men to treat women as human beings. The remaining few considered the absurd amount of drama House Targaryen is able to come up with, decided they prefer fluff, and came up with this instead.

Or: What if Alicent Hightower's children were Rhaenyra's?

Just imagine it:

In an a/b/o universe, there is no reason why a female alpha and female omega cannot marry and have for biological children beyond convention. I imagine the Faith of the Seven would be very intolerant of anything other than male/female marriages regardless of the secondary genders involved.

So at the start of canon we have a newly presented alpha!Rhaenyra and omega!Alicent who might not be in love yet, but are clearly on their way there...

...but no matter how much beta!Otto wants his blood on the throne, he'd never press for their marriage because the Faith would consider it an abomination - and the Faith of the Seven is dominate in Westeros. The lords of Westeros only put up with Targaryen Exceptionalism because of dragons; giving them more reasons to dislike their rulers only destabilizes the throne.

So Otto marries Alicent off to alpha!Viserys as per canon.

Only Rhaenyra isn't one to take no sitting down. She and Alicent carry on an affair beyond her father's back, so that all the children Alicent bears her husband are really her stepdaughter's. (Or, knowing that no one can replace Aemma in his heart, Viserys knowingly encourages Rhaenyra and Alicent's affair, desiring only more Targaryens in the world and to get the Small Council off his back. Either/or.)

Naturally, this puts a crimp in Otto's plans, but Alicent can hardly tell her father that she's having an affair with the crown princess.

Rhaenyra marries omega!Laenor and has three children with him. Alicent's not pleased that her lover has married someone else, but they're both bound to the expectations of their station. She tries to be as understanding as possible...

...but ends the affair after Lucerys takes Aemond's eye. After all, Rhaenrya may not be able to be an alpha parent to Alicent's children, but she can at least treat them as her half-siblings and not demand them sharply questioned for a schoolyard taunt.

...and grows downright bitter after Rhaenyra marries alpha!Daemon and carries three more children for him.

The truth doesn't come out until after Viserys' death, which Rhaenyra manages to be present for. Alicent supports her claim as she is, after all, Viserys' only living child, but is disgruntled that she'd name Jacaerys heir over Aegon the Elder, who is after all her eldest son.

An immense amount politicking goes on in the background regarding who should eventually succeed Rhaenyra: her eldest son or her eldest legitimate son. But the real drama centers around the children - Alicent's coming to terms with the fact that their hated half-sister is really their alpha mother, Rhaenyra's trying to accept their half-uncles and -aunt are really their half-siblings, &c...

A Great Council eventually settles the matter, with Rhaenyra's eldest alpha son, Aemond, and Rhaenyra's legitimate omega son, Lucerys, being wed to each other and named co-heirs. But until then there is all the drama that only House Targaryen can create. It should feel like a particularly sexually-charged, HBO version of The Brady Bunch.

Alicent eventually becomes Rhaenyra's second consort and rekindle something akin to what they had before Aemond lost his eye, but Daemon takes the whole revelation badly (less so for the affair than for Rhaenyra's taste in lovers) and would probably cause all sorts of problems for the future if he wasn't killed in a joust at the tournament celebrating the double marriage of Alicent and Rhaenyra, and Luke and Aemond.

Bonus points include: 1) Aemond and Lucerys having been engaged in a secret relationship since at least Aegon's marriage to Heleana, which Rhaenyra has been secretly enabling and Alicent was secretly trying to prevent; 2) Rhaenrya and Alicent's affair being exceptionally obvious, but dismissed by nearly everyone as a close female friendship; 3) Aegon the Elder as a dissolute but generally decent person, having learned of his mother's affair as a small child and being secure in the knowledge that his bastardy would keep him from the throne.

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt, just link back if you ever do anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[wednesdaynott]

SECRET GRANGER-MALFOY CHILD?

by Rita Skeeter

Draco Malfoy, 19, currently on trial for crimes committed as a Death Eater, spent the first hour of his trial being revived after he fainted upon seeing his son for the first time.

War heroine Hermione Granger, while testifying on behalf of the younger Malfoy, told a grand tale of a boy who was forced to do his parents’ bidding while leading a secret life. In her telling of it, she spent most of their sixth year at Hogwarts pregnant. When pressed for details on how no one noticed, Granger rolled her eyes and said that basic charms were more than enough to fool most Gryffindors who weren’t the most observant lot.

Granger claims to have given birth to Leo James Granger a week after Albus Dumbledore’s funeral and, in an attempt to keep him safe from You-Know-Who’s reign of terror, she sent him to live with her parents in Australia.

Any viewers convinced this whole story is a charade cooked up by Granger, a well-known lover of attention, will be comforted to know that while Granger was telling her tale, Healers with St. Mungo’s were analyzing hair samples from Granger, Malfoy, and their child. It took longer than normal, but they were able to confirm Leo Granger’s parentage.

Solicitors for Malfoy claim that Granger’s testimony over the next week will paint the story of a boy who did his very best with an unfortunate set of circumstances. They hope that their client will be sentenced to time served.

This reporter, however, is not convinced of anything and will be on this case until this all makes sense.

[honeyfarts666]

An Ocean of Tears

A Sauron Redemption Fic

Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Animal Friends, Secret Child

Chapter 1: Prolog: A Begining Centuries in the Making  Chapter 2: Odd Companions Chapter 3: A Young Adventurer Chapter 4: The Wanderer Child  Chapter 5: A Procession of Elves

New! Chapter 6: A Great Adversary on Ao3 or under the cut ↓

Torture Before the Sublime a smutty "deleted scene" (Also I made a mood board for Halbrand’s Garden)

Story Excerpt:

Was it so hard to believe that he had been a prisoner of Morgoth too? He had gone willingly at first, but he became just as trapped as every other soul caught in his master’s snare. He had no grand desire for evil. In the youth of the world, he had craved adventure. His only crime was believing Morgoth. And following him. And doing his dark bidding for millennia. He hung his head as shame poured through him.

@coraleethroughthelookingglass @helenvader @restless-tides @rebelrebelwrites @ringsofpowerfans @starlady66 @veladelibrr @shia-the-buff

Halbrand was usually quite diligent in his work. For the past twelve years, he had risen at dawn and worked among the plants and trees until dusk. This new way of life was his penance and he never forgot that. But ever since Estion’s appearance, he had lost focus. He had spent more than one day, completely unmoved, staring at the wall of his cottage in silence.

It’s not like his walls were that boring. The rough, wooden timbers each had a unique shape and grain. Sometimes he could find unintended images in them. If he turned his head to the left, there was one that looked sort of like a dog. And if he looked at the foot of his bed, there was another that looked like a castle surrounded by an army. But it was the one above his head that captivated him the most. It looked like a woman with long hair. Her back was turned to him and he couldn’t see her face. But he didn’t need to.

With a soft meow, Teonwer lept onto his bed and sat on his chest, staring him down. He tried to ignore the cat at first. He rolled his head to the right, gazing at the hazy beams of light that strayed through his window, illuminating his few, simple belongings: a table with a wobbly leg, a set of eating utensils, a bowl, a wash rag, a stack of firewood, and an extra blanket for the cold winters. Dried herbs hung from the rafters and filled the whole place with a homely aroma.

Teonwer seemed intent on disturbing him and batted his paw over Halbrand’s jaw and mouth.

“What?” Halbrand asked with annoyance, propping his head up under one arm.

Teonwer meowed.

“I don’t feel like it,” he stated as he looked away, avoiding Teonwer’s stare.

Meow meow.

Halbrand heaved a sigh through his nose. Teonwer was right, as usual. But he was still annoyed with his feline friend. He sat up quickly, causing Teonwer to scamper back down to the floor.

Teonwer gave a small hiss before leaving Halbrand behind and walking out the door into the day.

With another heavy sigh, Halbrand rose and dressed. He slipped his feet into his worn boots and stretched his stiff limbs. He went without breakfast, he really didn’t need much food and, in his sorry state, he probably wouldn’t taste it anyway.

As he stepped through his door, he gazed up toward the heavens. It was already nearing midday, though the sun was hidden. He had much work to catch up on from his newfound laziness. He washed quickly, pulling his shirt over his head before kneeling down in front of his wash bucket. He splashed his face, shoulders, and chest with the cool water. It wasn’t much of a bath but it was better than nothing. As he wiped the droplets from his face, he heard a noise in the distance. Halbrand perked his ear, straining to hear what it might be but failing. Whatever it was, it was a long way off. Probably an elk with its antlers caught between two trees. But it was no matter of his.

He pulled his shirt back over his head. The fabric was growing desperately thin, even with his subtle magic willing the garment to stay woven together. It was a cool day, so he slipped his coat over his shoulders. There was no more avoiding his tasks. He grabbed a basket and set it down the garden path. Teonwer followed in such a way that he pretended to be about his own business.

Scattered among the flowers and tall grasses of the garden were more useful plants. Most of them produced vegetables but he also had strawberries growing across the creek. And, at the very end of the garden path, there were three apple trees. He knelt down in front of several, wilting plants. The formerly bright, green leaves had begun turning brittle.

He dug his hands into the earth, reaching under the soil. After a moment of feeling blindly through the dirt, his fingers found what he searched for. He yanked and pulled a potato up from the soil. He brushed away the dirt and set it in his basket. He dug his hands back into the earth and searched for more. In the distance, there was a faint cry. It was the same noise as before, though he could hear it a bit more clearly. Whatever it was, he wished it would go away and die elsewhere.

He had plenty of time to think while he worked. Though part of him believed he had been thinking too much lately. Of course, his thoughts were always of Estion and Galadriel. And of the beautiful family that could have been his. Sometimes he felt anger. Anger for Galadriel and the horrible secret she had kept from him. Had she known? Had she been aware of their child even as she rejected him? It was possible but he couldn’t be certain. He knew little of such womanly matters. But those moments were rare. The fire that fueled his rage for centuries had long burned out. Mostly he was forlorn, lost in a haze of regret and could-have-beens. And he knew where the blame lay.

He imagined what Estion must have looked like as a babe and as a toddler. But he would never know. It was too late. He would never see Estion take his first steps. Nor teach him any craft. Nor even hold him close while he cried. He was a stranger to his own son. It was his personal doom, to forever be severed from all hope and light. Tears began to prick the corners of his eyes and he willed himself to turn his thoughts to other matters. The potatoes were healthy. That was a small blessing. Proof that Eru had not cursed him in every matter.

The magic he used in gardening was not the same magic he used in his smithcraft. It was gentler and more subtle. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it at first. Even without his awareness, power flowed down his arm and fingers and into the earth to be absorbed by hungry roots. He wasn’t sure when he started, but somewhere in those twelve years, he began to sing while he worked. He hummed his song and the potatoes loosened more readily. He didn’t consider himself to be a musical person. But he still knew the ancient melodies from before the dawning of the world. And from which all things green and good had sprung. The trees of the forest certainly remembered the old songs. Their roots grew deeper and the branches swayed further as they drank them in like pure water. And the young, green leaves in his garden had listened well too. Each year, growing taller and blooming fuller than any other plant in the shade of the old forest.

Halbrand caught movement from the corner of his eye and looked up. Teonwer lept onto a nearby boulder and meowed intently.

Halbrand nearly scoffed at the cat. He had never seen the creature so serious before. He shook his head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Teonwer yowled loudly once and meowed softly twice.

Halbrand furrowed his brow, “A what?”

Teonwer repeated himself.

Halbrand huffed. He was certain Teonwer was referencing whatever had made that noise. But he couldn’t for the life of him understand the cat. “I don’t know what that means,” he tried to reason, “What’s out there?”

Teonwer gave a final, exasperated meow as he turned off the path and into the depths of the forest.

Halbrand rolled his eyes before he pulled himself to his feet and followed after the cat. Whatever the situation was, Teonwer was taking it very seriously. Perhaps another feline beast was in trouble and Teonwer was honor bound by some code of brotherhood to all cats. Halbrand really wouldn’t have been surprised. Cats were unusually organized when they wanted to be. They might have made valuable allies in a battle. He shook his head. He had no use for those sorts of thoughts anymore.

Halbrand’s assumptions proved to be entirely wrong and he was wholly unprepared for what Teonwer led him to. After nearly half an hour’s walk, Halbrand heard the great cry again. But this time, it was much, much closer. He still had no idea what it was, but it certainly wasn’t a cat. The cry was more of a screech.

Teonwer led him through a grove of close trees and over several large boulders. When Halbrand reached the top and saw what lay on the other side, he nearly fell back down the side of the rock. There, between two ancient cedars, was an eagle. But not just any eagle, a Great Eagle, a servant of Manwë himself.

Halbrand swallowed hard. Teonwer let out a loud meow and lept down from the rock toward the eagle.

The eagle whipped its head around and suddenly the beast had its gaze fixed upon Halbrand. The eagle let out a terrible scratch. Halbrand covered his ears with his hands wincing at the noise. He did note that the eagle hardley moved. Its left wing stayed tucked carefully against its side.

Teonwer looked up at him from the ground below and let out a yowl of his own.

Halbrand glared at the cat, “That thing will never let me go anywhere near it!”

Meow. Meow.

Halbrand huffed, “It knows who I am! And if it doesn’t, it will certainly figure it out!”

“I,” the eagle replied, “can speak the tongues of elves and men and I know who you are.”

Halbrand swallowed hard again. Of course! He was just stupid enough to forget. All Manwë’s servants were gifted with speech though Manwë was more than capable of understanding them in their own tongue. Manwë was far too fair to converse with a low being in that primitive way. Halbrand pulled himself over the rock and dropped to the ground next to Teonwer. He slowly lifted his hands in a sign of peace.

“What brings you to these lands, servant of Manwë?” He asked cautiously.

The eagle ruffled its feathers, “That is no concern of yours!”

Halbrand dared to take his eyes from the eagle’s high face and take a closer look at his injured wing. And he spotted it! A bright arrow was shot between the bones of his second arm. Blood oozed from the wound and dripped down his long feathers. He glanced at Teonwer who gazed up at him expectantly.

Halbrand took a deep breath and pointed to the arrow, “It seems you have an injury. Are you able to fly, friend?”

The eagle raised its head to the heavens and shrieked. Halbrand again covered his ears. As he did, the eagle ceased his noise-making and got his face within a foot of Halbrand’s. “You are no friend of mine, deceiver!”

Halbrand stayed frozen in place as the eagle receded. He slowly lifted his hands from his ears. He took a calculating breath and said, “If I wished you dead, you would already be so.”

The eagle whipped around to glare at him again but Halbrand put up both of his forefingers for patience. “You know it is true. In equal health, we are a fair fight. But in this state,” he gestured to the arrow again, “I would have no difficulty killing you.”

The eagle bristled but remained silent for a long moment. Eventually, he spoke, “What is it that you want, servant of Morgoth?”

Halbrand bit his lip and steadied his breath, “I no longer serve Morgoth. I have not for many years.”

“Yet, you do not seek pardon from my master,” the eagle pointed out, “Since you have not done this, I must assume you mean to take your former master’s place as the dark lord.”

“That is not true!” Halbrand snapped.

“Deceiver!” the eagle spat back at him.

Halbrand huffed and threw out his arms, “Does it look like I’m amassing an army?”

The eagle stopped suddenly and regarded him as if for the first time.

He continued without waiting for any response, “I assume, your task has been to search for me. You thought you would find me in the Land of Ash. And you blamed the darkness of the clouds for your inability to find me.”

The eagle snarled.

Halbrand went on, “But the reason you could not find me is because I am not there.” He gestured to the forest, “I have been here. Trying to forget.”

The eagle raised his head thoughtfully and asked, “Why have you come to aid me?”

Halbrand couldn’t help the soft smile that cracked across his face as he glanced at Teonwer, “My friend asked me to.”

Then, Teonwer looked up to the eagle and meowed softly several times. The recommendation Teonwer gave to the eagle is literally untranslatable, as are most cat words. But an approximate translation would be, “He is your adversary but he is also my great friend.”

Halbrand’s heart shuddered as he heard the kind, gentle way Teonwer spoke of him. And a single tear rolled down his cheek.

Teonwer rubbed against Halbrand’s leg and purred. Halbrand knelt down and affectionately scratched behind the cat’s ears. When Halbrand pulled his hand away, Teonwer lept onto his shoulder and sat there. Halbrand rose up to his full height to face the eagle’s judgment. But it felt good not to face the messenger of Manwë alone.

The eagle nodded solemnly and said, “I will accept your assistance.”

-

It took Halbrand an hour to return with supplies. And then another to remove the arrow and clean the wound. The Great Eagle was stoic the whole while, never complaining and hardly making a sound. Teonwer, on the other hand, would not cease with his unsolicited advice.

“I’m not going to lick it!” Halbrand insisted as he filled the wound with a salve of chamomile and garlic.

Teonwer turned up his nose at him in a show of superiority.

The Great Eagle made a clucking noise. Halbrand stopped in his tracks. He looked at the Eagle’s face to see if it was in pain. But the bird seemed to be amused. And then, he realized the bird was laughing.

“Teonwer often makes suggestions as if I too were a cat,” Halbrand remarked.

“Felines cannot fathom a way of life that is not their own,” the Eagle commented, “But they are always willing to help a friend.”

Halbrand quirked an eyebrow, “How did you two become friends?”

Teonwer chimed in with two meows and Halbrand raised his eyebrow again.

“It is true,” the Eagle confirmed, “There was an ancient oath between the Great Eagles and many of the beasts of the earth. Most have forgotten it. But not the cats. Their memories are long and their honor is great.”

Halbrand smirked, remembering his original thought that Teonwer was bound by a feline brotherhood. He wasn’t too far off. “What else have you neglected to tell me, old friend?” he asked the cat at his feet.

Teonwer gave him an annoyed mew and marched off into the underbrush.

Halbrand smirked again as he pasted another layer of salve over the wound. And the Eagle laughed again in his strange way. “The two of you make good companions,” he told Halbrand, “You have similar temperaments.”

“You compare me to a cat?” Halbrand asked with his usual smirk.

“Would you prefer something else?” The Eagle asked.

Halbrand shook his head, “No. I don’t mind. And Teonwer is one of the smartest beings I have ever known.” The Eagle quirked his head so Halbrand continued, “He keeps his wits about him. He can fend for himself. He is an efficient hunter. But what he does most, is nap.”

The Eagle laughed again but longer and harder than before. After a moment, he regained his composure and said, “Forgive me! But it is difficult to imagine the Great Deceiver taking a nap.”

Halbrand glanced away and he muttered, “I have been doing little else of late.”

The Eagle cocked his head as he examined him. Halbrand continued to work, ignoring the lingering stare from his former enemy. “I sense a great sorrow within you,” the Eagle said.

Halbrand nodded slowly, “Your eyes are keen.” He finished his work and stepped away. “There,” he said with fake cheerfulness, “It should only be a few days before you can fly again.”

The Eagle tested his wing, flexing the muscles slowly. “I thank you for your help, Mairon.”

Halbrand sucked in a sharp breath. He had not been called that in more than an age. “That name does not belong to me anymore.”

The Eagle cocked his head from side to side, examining him, “Perhaps, if you were to return to Valinor, you would find that it does.”

Halbrand shook his head, “I will not speak ill of your master, but he has no love for me. There is no future for me in Valinor.”

The Eagle clucked, “Then what shall I call you?”

“Halbrand is the name I have used in recent years,” he replied.

It was a humble name and the Eagle seemed to approve. “Halbrand,” the Eagle turned the name over in his mouth. “I am Gwaihir,” the Eagle announced.

Halbrand’s eyes widened in astonishment. “I have heard of you,” he replied as cooly as he could manage, “and your great feats.”

Gwaihir ruffled his feathers, “Still think you can best me in a fight?”

Halbrand smirked, “I wouldn’t like to try.”

[reyhospacebitch]

Remus Lupin had been through more loss, more agony, by the age of twenty-five than most would endure over the course of their long lives. He had hoped it would end then, but the world, as did the moon, had its ways of routinely destroying him. Being bitten by a werewolf at five years, he was well practiced in suffering. surviving. But nothing prepared him for the curveball the universe threw at him when he heard her voice, higher pitch and just as swotty, in the Hogwarts train compartment that day. A flood of emotions swelled in him at the sight of her face, mocking him as she looked exactly like his daughter, and when she introduced herself with the same name as his long gone wife, he ran. He kept his distance as well as he could. For years. Even going so far as to attempt to move on with Tonks. Sirius’s persistence wearing him down. And then Sirius died. And so did Tonks. Convinced he was well and truly cursed, he fell into the bottle. So what happens when one night Hermione Granger meets the girl a near mirror image of herself who called Remus dad?

[theredconversegirl]

Hello. I was just kinda wondering if you know a SS au wherein they are ex lovers and Sakura is hiding from him + keeping the truth from Sasuke that they have a child.

Hello nonny,

Thank you for stopping by! 💕

Oh that's just one of my favorite tropes ever! 😍 I love stories where Sasuke doesn't know he's a daddy and then finds out later. One night stand/affair followed by an unplanned pregnancy and secret child is the recipe for a juicy, dramatic reunion. 😏

Anyway, I have a list for you:

Sasuke finds out he’s a Daddy 🍅🌸

It's hard for me to pick a favorite fic from this list, but I'm very fond of the Officer Uchiha AU - it's one of my comfort fics - and Tightrope, as it was the first SasuSaku fic I ever read. 🥰

I hope you enjoy all the recs there. Have a great weekend & happy reading! 🤍

Stay Safe,

xoxo

[plots4us]

i play ( HARRY STYLES ), currently in ( EST) and i am looking for ( M/M, M/F or M/NB ) with ( ANY - OC or CANON! ). i’m looking for the following plots ( ANGST, SECRET RELATIONSHIP, FORMER FLING, SECRET CHILD, SMUT ). this plot will be for ( PSL ). this plot ( WILL ) be chemistry based, ( WILL ) contain mature themes and will be ( HEADCANON / PARA IF WE HAVE THE TIME ). feel free to message at ( DISCORD: 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐚#8921 )

please remember to check your invites!

[rosealiceroyal]

It was not exactly part of the protocol, but it was common knowledge that the heir of the throne would be born when the crown prince had come of age and was properly wedded to a noble woman, inside a rich, private hospital and the birth would be filled with love and gratitude.

Definitely not inside a small house on Bjärstad filled with secrecy and shame.

Language: English Words: 15,710 Chapters: 2/2 Comments: 30 Kudos: 297 Bookmarks: 32 Hits: 4,916

[awesome-shoes-with-wings]

Do any of you ever wonder if Camp Half-Blood accidentally brought in a demigod of a different pantheon before?

This would be especially hilarious if it happens sometime after The Last Olympian/Heroes of Olympus, where the gods are required to claim their kids quickly.

A whole day passes, and the new demigod needs to sleep in the Hermes Cabin and Percy is furious. Meanwhile, the Greek Gods are pointing at each other and shouting, contacting the most obscure of mini gods. Chaos erupts on Olympus as every deity in Greek Mythology is called upon and interrogated. Hermes hasn't run around so much in centuries.

Hecate sits in silence, fully aware of what's happening, but enjoying the show too much to intervene.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

De-Aged Danny, gesturing to a dazed Bruce inside Wayne Manor: And this is Bruce! Otherwise known as the Himbo! Reporters: Hmm, yes, interesting... Bruce: What the- Danny: I'm not sure what that word means. I heard it from Dick, but no one will give me my answer, not even Jason, who is easily bribed. Bruce: Why are there reporters in my house!? Danny, innocent and childlike: They asked to come inside, Bruce! They seemed like really nice people, so I thought it'd be polite to give them a tour. Bruce, filled with infinite patience: I really wish you had asked me before you did that, chum. Danny: But why? We don't have anything to hide... do we, Bruce?

Or, in order to rise to the Ghost Throne, Danny has to complete a series of trials to prove he is capable of ruling (or any other reason, Danny just needs to do trials to prove himself).

The last trial, issued by Clockwork, is thus: discover the Wayne Family secret in two weeks without the use of any of his powers.

He has one shapeshift to pick a form that could endere him to the Waynes, but only one before he starts and he has to get close to the family by his own wits. Danny, after studying the family and reading of one sentence summary of each Wayne, picks the body of a six-year-old little boy that looked like a child Jason Todd.

Bruce: That child is up to something. Dick, third favorite: I don't know, Bruce; he acts like a normal kid. Jason, #1 favorite: I doubt the old man's ever met a normal kid. Tim, least favorite: Bruce is right, but can you please not talk like the villains from Chicken Run.

[bet-on-me-13]

Trigons Backup Plan

So! Trigon knew from the moment his Daughter was taken in by the Monks of Azarath that it would be difficult to turn her to his will. He wasn't stupid, he knew just how hard it would be to make his daughter turn on everything she has ever known in her (very short) life.

He can't really blame her, even he believed that indiscriminate mass murder was wrong until his mid-200's, he just needs to wait for her to grow out of it.

But until then he still needs a way into the DC Universe. And if his daughter wouldn't help, then he could always just make a 2nd one.

So, he searches and eventually finds a Couple of Scientists who seem to be good targets. They are researching Magic and Ghosts, so he makes a Demonic Pact with them. He will give them the secrets needed to complete their Research, and in exchange all he asks is that they help him bare a child.

They agree, and Danny Fenton is born.

Danny was supposed to become a Hellmouth when he turned 16, unlocking his Demonic Powers and opening the way for Trigon to enter the DC Universe so he could conquer it.

Instead he managed to get himself killed at 14. Then he managed to come back to life as a Halfa, he got himself adopted by Clockwork, and he usurped the Throne of the Infinite Realms in the span of 1 year, therefore putting himself on the same level as his Father on the cosmic scale.

So there goes his Backup Plan.

Dammit.

...

Meanwhile Raven is panicking. She had been messing around with her Friends when they asked about the Spells she could do, and she off-handedly mentioned that she could cast Family Tracking Spells.

One thing led to another, and they all wanted to know if they had secret family. Then they asked if she wanted to try as well, and for some reason she agreed.

And long story short, she has a little brother somehow. A little brother who is only a few weeks away from turning 16, who doesn't know the Azarathian Spells she learned to prevent his own transformation into a Hellmouth.

Oh shit...

[stardxxstbae]

WITH ARMS WIDE OPEN ✦ cl16

CHAPTER 1: RETOUR

Previous: preface

• January 10, 2022 •

Milan, Italy.

"Hands up, baby, hands up

Gimme your heart, gimme, gimme your heart

Gimme, gimme..."

The baby laughed heartily at the show her mother was putting on for her; she was sitting in her high chair with a plate of fruit that she hadn't finished eating yet.

Amélie was moving around, holding a wooden spoon in her hands that she used as a microphone while singing along to the music.

As a singer, she was terrible, but the little show seemed to entertain her daughter immensely, and she didn't plan on stopping anytime soon, at least until the food was ready and she could give her full attention.

"I don't know if you're laughing with me or at me, mon petite soleil," she said, approaching her and gently tapping her little nose with her finger, causing the child to smile widely.

Amélie sighed at the sight of dimples appearing on the child's face.

Eliane was identical to her father, like a smaller, female version of Charles; she had very light brown hair, almost blonde, her eyes were green, and she had also inherited that mole under her eye that Amélie liked so much. However, when Eliane smiled and those two dimples formed on her cheeks, she was the spitting image of her father.

Almost as if the girl was reading her thoughts, she started talking to her. Eliane was a very talkative girl, and at two years and five months old, it was impressive how many words she knew and how one could hold a conversation with her.

"Mom," she said, taking a piece of fruit and putting it in her mouth, "Where dad?"

It was a question she asked frequently, and Amélie didn't lie to her. She would usually search the internet for any information about Charles and tell Eliane his latest location, but she had never told her who he was or shown her a picture.

"I don't know right now, sweetheart," she replied while continuing to cook. "He must be working."

"Cars?"

"Yes, sweetheart, with the cars," Amélie chuckled and went back to her cooking.

"Where ThurThur?"

"Uncle Arthur is..."

The sound of the phone interrupted her, and she practically ran to answer it. She lowered the volume of the music and then hurried back to the kitchen.

"Hello?"

"Hello, sweetheart!"

The voice of her mother made her smile widely. Eliane noticed this and looked at her with curiosity as she spoke. They talked for a few minutes; her mother asked how Eliane was and many other things, but she knew that something wasn't right. There was something in her mother's voice that let her know.

"Mom, what's wrong?"

"Amélie... Your grandmother has been a little ill. Nothing too serious, don't be alarmed, but it would be good for her to see you. You two have always been close."

Of course, it hurt her a lot that she hardly ever saw her family. Usually, they would always travel to Italy to visit her, but she hadn't been to Monaco since the day she decided to leave. Only her mother knew the reason behind her decisions, and although she didn't entirely agree with it, she ended up supporting her.

“She could finally meet Eliane..."

She was afraid to face everything she had left behind. She was afraid that everything she had tried to hide for so long would simply be uncovered in a matter of weeks. But she also longed to go back home and relax in the shade of the orange tree in her backyard and taste some of her mother's homemade food.

Moreover, in her two years of life, Eliane hadn't left Milan. She was used to living among buildings, runways and the fabrics in her mother's workshop. In the past six months, the little girl had fallen sick three times, and Amélie had already thought that perhaps a change of scenery could do her good, but she hadn't planned anything yet.

"Does Eliane have to come?" she asked, biting her nails.

"I would love for you to bring her; she would surely love it here."

"I will go, alright? As for Eliane, I'll think about it. It's difficult."

"I understand, sweetheart."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"I'm sorry, girl, I can't," Olivia said with regret. "I'll be away during those days."

Apart from Olivia, she had a couple more friends in Milan, but she wouldn't leave Eliane with anyone other than her, and if that wasn't possible, there weren't many other options.

"Then I won't be able to go," she said, thinking it over, and Olivia looked at her. "Taking her with me is too risky. Just look at her, she's the spitting image of Charles."

"She also looks like you," Olivia murmured, shrugging. "Besides, he'll be busy doing manly things like driving in circles."

Amélie chuckled and shook her head, taking a sip of coffee as her gaze drifted to a fixed point outside the window.

"Why don't you come up with an escape plan?" the blonde looked at her best friend, confusion painted on her face. "Let's assume Charles won't be in Monaco because he has things that will keep him away”

"Sure..."

"But if he happens to be there, you can come up with an emergency plan. Have a father figure for Eliane and a convincing story to keep him at bay with questions."

"A father?" she asked, making a face. "Where am I going to find that? The only heterosexual man I'm friends with is Arthur, and that would be too cruel."

"That's not true. You know many drivers, one of them must be your friend," Olivia said, sinking into her seat and holding her coffee cup in her hands.

"Let's see... Pierre is Charles' best friend, I highly doubt Max would be up for this kind of thing, George is too English, and..."

She fell silent for a moment, and Olivia could interpret that silence. She leaned forward, clearly interested in her friend's expression.

"What are you thinking? Who? Who will be the fake father of your daughter?"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Pleaseeee," she pleaded, leaning on the kitchen counter. "I dare say you're more of my friend than Charles'."

"Why would you say that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you come here quite often, Eliane calls you 'Estie,' and you're listed as an emergency contact at her daycare."

"First of all, I really like your pasta, that's why I come. Secondly, everyone calls me that, and third... I love Eli."

"And you haven't told anything to Charles," she added, looking at him curiously. "Admit that you're a better friend of mine than of Charles'."

The Frenchman pondered for a moment, realizing the truth in her words. Over time, the friendship he had once shared with Leclerc had weakened. They still got along, but it wasn't the same as it used to be in their childhood. On the other hand, Esteban and Amélie had quite a few mutual friends and had spent time together during their adolescence and now adulthood. In fact, they had met in Italy just a few months after Amélie had left Monaco, and it didn't take long for Ocon to put the pieces together and deduce that the blonde's unborn baby was Charles' child.

He didn't say anything, of course, because it wasn't something he had to disclose. Besides, Amélie seemed desperate when she begged him not to say anything, and he concluded that something had happened.

"Do you think he'll buy the story?" he asked seriously, then picked up Eliane, holding her and placing their faces close together. "Amélie, look at us, we don't look alike at all."

"We can say she looks like me," she shrugged. "Besides, it's only in case we run into him, which I highly doubt will happen, and I'll try to spend as little time as possible in Monaco."

Esteban thought about it for a couple of seconds, then sighed and shook his head. He looked at Eliane, and the little girl smiled at him charmingly.

"Fine, I'll do it," he resigned, causing Amélie to squeal and rush to hug him. "But I can't be in Monaco all the time. Still, I'll let you use my incredible name for your facade, and if you need me to come, then I'll come."

"Thank you, Esteban, thank you," she said, planting a kiss on the Frenchman's cheek.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He woke up with a terrible headache, the result of the past ten hours of drinking. He looked beside him, hoping there wouldn't be anyone next to him, and let out a sigh of relief when he confirmed he was alone.

The relief turned into a pang of pain in his heart when he realized he still respected Amélie's place even though three years had passed since she had left.

Every year, he returned to the apartment they once shared when Charles was in Monaco. He had left it untouched when she left, choosing to move to another place rather than making changes to the space where he had been truly happy. She had left a few dresses, a couple of perfume bottles, and a few bracelets that Charles had never taken off since then.

He knew it wasn't healthy and that it didn't do him any good, but he didn't care. He enjoyed reminiscing about Amélie.

Of course, he had the company of other women, but none made him feel as fulfilled as Amélie did. That's why he had a reputation for jumping from relationship to relationship; none lasted much longer than a few months, and they all ended for the same two reasons: The girls grew tired of trying to please Charles completely, or he grew tired of not finding anyone even remotely similar.

Amélie had completely removed herself from his life, blocking him on every single social media platform. Charles hadn't attempted to search for her with a private account because he didn't want to know if she had found someone else—it would break his heart.

He stumbled out of bed and, despite wanting to avoid it, headed straight to the bathroom to throw up what was left in his stomach. He rinsed his mouth and then made his way to the living room.

He turned on the sound system and began searching for a song on his cell phone, completely ignoring the hundreds of messages from Pierre, Arthur, Max, and Carlos. He knew his friends were always concerned about him, but he needed that time alone. He didn't like everyone telling him to move on, that he would find someone better, to him, all of that was pure bullshit. Charles knew he would never find anyone better.

"Hands up, baby, hands up

Gimme your heart, gimme, gimme your heart

Gimme, gimme..."

The song made him smile widely, as if it transported him back in time to the night he and Amélie had first said "I love you" to each other. He could still remember her singing it at the top of her lungs, dancing with a huge smile on her face and cheeks flushed from the two beers she had drunk.

He played the song a couple more times while sitting on the balcony. Tears escaped from his eyes occasionally, and it terrified him. It terrified him because his crying was no longer as loud and desperate as it had been before, and he wondered if he had run out of tears or if his love for Amélie was fading away.

He shook his head at that thought; his love for her would never fade, he was sure of it.

"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!" The pounding on the apartment door made him jump. "I'M GONNA KNOCK IT DOWN, CHARLES!"

That was Max's voice. The Monegasque furrowed his brow and hurried to open the door. He knew Max was capable of breaking it down if he wanted to, and Charles definitely didn't want that, so he quickly opened the door.

The Red Bull driver entered as if it were his own home, disapprovingly looking at Charles' state.

"What are you doing here?" Charles asked, still slurring his words.

"I came to make sure you're still in one piece, idiot," Max glanced around, noticing the multiple bottles scattered around, and made a disgusted face. "Did you really drink all of this?"

"Pierre told you to come?"

A sarcastic laugh escaped his lips as he grabbed a couple of bottles, tossing them into a black bag that was on the coffee table in the living room. Surely Charles had bought it to clean up his mess.

"No one told me to do anything" Max said confidently. "I decided to come because everyone is worried about you."

As Verstappen spoke, he continued to throw away anything that looked like trash in that place. He even considered putting Charles in the bag because of how pitiful he looked.

"I don't need to hear another lecture about how I should get over Amélie and the damage I'm doing to myself by waiting for her."

"I'm not here to give you that," he shrugged.

"No?"

"No, Charles," he said, approaching him and grimacing at the smell of alcohol. "I know your friends want you to be well and stable, but I know that's impossible when you've lost the most precious thing to you, and I know hundreds of motivational talks won't do shit for you."

"Really?"

"Yes, so I brought you something better," he slumped into one of the armchairs and patted the seat next to him, waiting for Charles to sit beside him. "In this situation, Leclerc, you have two options: either you give up and accept that she will never come back, or you look for a window of opportunity and try to make her return."

"Are you here to shatter my illusions?"

"Totally the opposite, I came to give you what could be your window of opportunity," Charles looked at him intently, and Max took out his phone, typed something, and showed it to him.

It was Amélie's Instagram profile, and that made Charles's stomach churn. Knowing that it was real, the fact that she had moved on with her life sent a shiver down his spine.

"Max..."

He didn't say anything else and just tapped on Amélie's profile picture. A story unfolded immediately, and Charles's heart skipped a beat because he recognized the garden of Amélie's house perfectly. He had sat there thousands of times. He considered the possibility that it could be an old photo, but the caption "Back home" confirmed that she was in Monaco.

"Why are you showing me this, Max?" Charles asked.

"Because I'm not like Pierre or Carlos; if the love of my life came back, I would want someone to tell me," he shrugged. "Now, if you want her to consider paying attention to you again, you have to get out of this shitty episode."

"Do you think that will happen?" Charles wondered.

"I don't know, Charles, you're Schrödinger's damn cat right now," Max said, running his hands through his face in visible frustration. "So if you want to find out, take a shower, let's go for a good breakfast, and let's make you look your best in case you run into her."

Charles's heart started pounding at the mere thought of seeing her again. The idea of being close to her, of seeing her beautiful blue eyes once more, made him want to jump with excitement, and Max noticed it.

"This might be your last chance, Charles," Max added.

"Why are you doing this?" Charles asked.

"Because I'm tired of seeing your sad eyes. They make me feel awful every time a podium slips away from you. You've already lost too much, and I want to fight with you for the championship. I want to feel satisfaction in beating you, not pity."

Charles looked at him, furrowing his brow, and then burst into laughter while shaking his head gently.

"Thank you, Max."

Next: chapter 2.

[flamingpudding]

He's my clockwork appointed babysitter, not dad.

They failed, even they managed to beat all the cultist in time. The ritual was still completed. The leader was laughing like a maniac until Hood hit him hard with the butt of his gun, knocking the guy out cold finally. With held breaths, they watched how smoke rose from the ritual circle higher and higher until it started to form a black shadow with stars as eyes and too many teeth and limps. Batman was on his way with Constantine. Maybe they could at least contain whatever that was until they arrived.

"Who in the name of all good and holy dared to summon me?!" A static scratchy voice echoed in their ears.

No one dared to answer at first but of course Red I-fear-nothing Hood had to open his mouth earning him death glares from his siblings. "Aren't you like a demon? Why would you mention anything good and holy?"

That think was blinking at them and Tim did a double take when that think moved its many limps like it was rubbing the back of its neck.

"In the name of all bad and cursed then?" It sounded unsure still a booming echo like voice but unsure. They shared a look. Dick opened his mouth, ready to say something when suddenly a familiar voice shouted from behind them.

"Cut the crap kid! They are the Batsie and his birds belong to the good!"

They turned to see Constantine marching in with Batman right behind him. The man was throwing the but of his cigarette way as he went right up to that demon. Which apparently was not one because right as the Brite was up to it a puff of greenish some blocked their view for a moment before a white haired child stood where the demon had been seconds ago.

"The hell you doing out here kid. I told you to stay at home."

"You try resisting a summon when your all new to the fact that you can get summoned!"

"Your going to make my hair gray faster, you little chaos gremlin."

"Aw love you too!"

"Uh Constantine?" They had question of of them was that Constantine was apparently familiar with that child, demon, whatever.

"Right." The man lit another cigarette but before he could even take one drag of it he side eyed the child staring up at him before he flicked it to the side. "Bats my demon son, Danny the Bats."

"Demon son?"

"Actually I am-" They watched how Constantine covered the child's, Danny's, mouth with his hand shushing the boy.

"What did I tell you about interdimensional secrets? That's right, do not talk about them to just anyone. We are not repeating the Green Lantern incident."

Should they feel offended? It felt like they should. They weren't just anyone.

"Constantine." Batman gruffly warned, but the man held up one hand towards them. Batman was definitely offended that Green Lantern got to learn something he wasn't getting to know on Constantine's watch.

"One moment Batsie. I need to- did you gremlin just lick my hand?!"

The moment Constantine removed his hand the child stuck his tongue out at the JL Dark member and made a break for it to hide behind Batman.

"Get back here you little..."

"No! I am always stuck at home, and you promised me I would get to see the watchtower at last month!"

Batman blocked Constantine from getting to who was apparently the man's demon son. Staring at the man as the boy grinned in triumph.

"Mate get out of the way, this kid needs to get grounded again."

"For what?"

"Being a chaos gremlin that won't listen."

The rest of the batfam had only one burning question on their mind. "Which demon was willing enough to have a child with Constantine?"

Well, except for Tim who had caught the little tidbit of interdimensional secret and was wondering who Danny really was.