#HE LOVES THIS NIGHTMARE FAMILY SO SO MUCH!!!!!
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facing it together | CL16
charles leclerc x female!reader
warnings: emotional angst, pregnancy, accident, mention of loss, blood, hospitals, mention of loosing a baby
note: i took some inspiration for this from an episode of one tree hill (my favourite show) when haley gets into the accident while pregnant in season four / also i don't know much about medical procedures so im sorry for any inaccuracy and/or sounding unrealistic
word count: 3.7k
masterlist | taglist
You and Charles hadn’t been dating long but you were already head over heels for each other, knowing you wanted to spend the rest of your lives with each other.
Your relationship however had recently been thrown a curve ball in the shape of a positive pregnancy test. At first you were both stunned and at a loss of words but once the shock wore off, you were able to have a proper conversation on what you wanted to do and you both agreed you wanted this.
There were some obstacles as Charles lived in Monaco when he wasn’t going across the world with his career and you lived in London where you had your job and your friends.
That was the first obstacle which didn’t take long to resolve, you wanted to be with Charles and if that meant moving to Monaco you were all in.
The next obstacle was moving. Moving was a difficult task for anyone let alone a pregnant woman whose boyfriend could only be of help during small breaks at a time.
Which was why you both had decided to hold off on the moving process until it was the summer break for Charles and he could fly to London to help you fully and so until then you decided to stay in London.
You would’ve loved to been able to go and see Charles during some of the races but your first trimester was nothing but a nightmare.
Your morning sickness was basically all day, your body ached and most of the time all you wanted to do was sleep. Charles understood completely and would reassure you that you were housing your unborn child, he prioritized that above everything else.
Another obstacle was the media. You and Charles hadn’t been dating long, less than a year and now you were having a baby. You were afraid of what people would say which was why you held off telling anyone especially the fans at least until you were situated in Monaco with Charles and then you could figure it out from there.
Once you hit your second trimester, you started feeling better which brought both you and Charles relief. You had also been able to join him at Silverstone seeing as it was where you lived. You thanked London for being rainy because it allowed you to wear a hoodie to cover the bump you had started developing.
It had been a decent race given the weather. Charles managed to get P4, he would’ve loved to have been on the podium for you but you reassured him you were proud of him regardless of where he placed, plus you reminded him with no podium celebrations gave them more time together which uplifted his mood.
Luckily there was a bit of a break between Silverstone and the Hungary Grand Prix which meant Charles could not only spend time with you but could also help you start to pack up your apartment.
He had stayed as long as he could in between the races but unfortunately the time came when he had to go. You sadly smiled at him as you stood by your door
“It’s only a few weeks baby and then we’ll be able to start being a family” you reminded him as he put his hand on your small but noticeable bump.
It was still a little early for Charles to feel your baby but you could sometimes feel little flutters, regardless he still enjoyed having his hands on your bump.
He nodded at your words “I know I know” he said as he closed his eyes temporarily before opening them again and leaning down to give you a kiss before going on his knees to talk to your bump
“Hi baby of mine, its your Daddy” he started as you smiled looking down at him “I have to leave you and mommy again but I promise you soon we’ll all be together and then before we know it you’ll be with us in our arms” he said “I cant wait to meet you, I love you” he said giving your bump a small kiss before getting up.
You shared another kiss and then he grabbed his bag, leaving. You sighed, you couldn’t wait till you were back in his arms and could officially start this chapter of your life together.
The events that followed however was by far the biggest obstacle you, Charles and your unborn baby would have to face.
-
You had been packing in between watching your boyfriend’s qualifying on Saturday and then ready to watch the race on Sunday especially given there was only an hour time difference.
Sunday rolled around and you realized you didn’t have anymore packing foam. You groaned of course right as the race was about to start so you quickly shot Charles a text, knowing he wouldn’t see it until after.
'Y/N: Good luck baby! Me and Baby are rooting for you! ❤️ '
You sent it and then got up, putting your coat on, slipping your boots on and being sure to grab your purse that had your wallet in it. You left your apartment, locking up and started your way to the hardware store.
You were a careful person when you crossed streets and always made sure to double check for any cars coming especially since the pregnancy, you couldn’t risk anything. If only today had been like others.
It all happened so fast, you started stepping on the road to cross to the other side when a car came zooming and before you or the driver could react, the car had hit you pretty badly, knocking you out almost immediately.
The driver instantly pulled his phone out calling 911 before checking on you. You were bleeding from your head and your white coat had blood stains mixed with road dirt.
The paramedics arrived as fast as they could and took care of you. The police had also arrived and had escorted the driver away to deal with him once he was all cleared.
You however were in pretty rough shape and once the paramedics realized you were pregnant too, they knew they had to move faster to hopefully be able to save you and your baby.
-
Charles’ POV
That race had been so exhilarating. I had managed to get P2. Immediately I jumped into the teams arms once the car was parked and I was out of it.
As I got congratulated from everyone I smiled, thanking them and then made my way to the cooldown room. I spoke casually with Max and Fernando who were the other drivers on the podium.
Eventually came time for the podium ceremony. I smiled at everyone down below and after the national anthem came time for the champagne showers. Once that was all done, I had some time to go back to my drivers room to freshen up a bit before some media interviews.
I reached for my phone once I entered the room and a frown appeared on my face. There was only one text from you and it had been from before the race.
That was unusual seeing as you would usually spam text Charles and after his P2, you would’ve already sent congratulations with an excessive amount of emojis.
Suddenly I felt uneasy, not sure if I should give you a call to check in. Before I could pull up your contact to give you a quick call an unknown number was calling me. The area code was from the UK, the only person I knew from there who would’ve been calling was you.
I answered immediately “Hello” I said waiting for a response but instead was met with something that sounded alot like sniffles from crying “Hello” I said again a bit louder
“Oh sorry, is this Charles? Y/N’s boyfriend” an unknown voice asked
“Yes. Who is this? Is she okay?” I asked, the uneasy feeling never leaving me
“This is Janice Im a friend and a co worker of hers, she gave me your number after she found out about the baby incase anything happened” she started saying
“I don’t know how to tell you this but she was in a pretty bad accident, she’s in surgery right now” she finished telling me.
Suddenly I felt dizzy and off balance. I sat on the couch in my drivers room and took in her words ‘accident’ and ‘surgery’.
“Charles, are you still there?” I heard Janice ask even though I was struggling to find my words. Then suddenly it hit me and I realized what was happening.
“Yes I’m here. I’m getting on a flight as soon as I can. Please text me the details” I told her before hanging up.
The next few moments passed as a blur as I quickly dressed into proper clothes, not even caring where I through my race suit, someone could come in here after and tidy up. I grabbed my backpack and flew out the door. I needed to find Fred and then leave.
I saw Fred luckily right when I rushed down the steps standing with Carlos
“Ooi mate where are you going in such a rush” Carlos asked seeing how frazzled I must’ve looked
“My girlfriend she was in a bad accident, I need to get to the UK” I rushed out
“Wait what happened to Y/N” he asked
“Im not sure I just know she’s in surgery and I need to be there for them when she wakes up” I explained then remembered no one knew about the pregnancy
“What do you mean them?” Fred asked
I sighed, the longer I stayed here the more stressed I became “She’s pregnant. We were keeping it a secret until we were ready to tell people other than family” I said as Carlos and Fred both shared the same expression of shock and happiness but then remembered what had happened to Y/N.
“Go, it’s fine, we’ll come up with a reason why you had to leave” Fred said matter a factly “Go to the airstrip. I’m gonna call ahead for a private jet, you’ll get there quicker” he said before stepping away, pulling his phone out to make the arrangements.
I shared a look with Carlos before he nodded at me and I was out the doors. The lives of the two most important people in my life hung in the balance and I couldn’t get to them any quicker if I tried.
-
After a flight that I swore took a lifetime, I finally arrived at the hospital Janice had texted me the address of. I rushed in to the front desk
“Hi my girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N was brought in, she was in an accident” I told the nurse slightly out of breath
“Hold on let me check” she said typing away in her computer before bringing your file up “It looks like she’s in recovery. You’ll have to wait in the waiting room and the doctor will be with you in a moment to fill you in” she explained
“She’s pregnant, is there anything on the baby?” I asked my heart aching at the thought of possibly losing the baby. “Im sorry sir, there’s nothing on the baby yet” she said sympathetically. I nodded and went to sit down.
I hated hospitals. After loosing my father and Jules, they just made me feel very uneasy. I found it hard to sit still, every time I sat down my leg bounced to the point I had to get up and pace instead.
I just needed them both to be okay. I didn’t want to imagine what life would be like without either of them.
“Family for Y/N Y/L/N” I head a doctor ask, I quickly walked over “Thats me, I’m her boyfriend and the father of her baby” I told him. I tried to gage the look in his eyes but he was hard to read which didn’t help my uneasiness.
“Your girlfriend was hit pretty hard, she has a couple broken ribs” he started explaining “She also hit her head which caused some bleeding in the brain but luckily we were able to stop the bleeding, unfortunately because of that though she’s currently in a coma. We have hope she’ll wake up, it’s just hard to tell when that’ll be” he finished as I took in all of his words.
“And the baby?” I asked hearing my voice crack
“At this point it’s hard to tell, Im sorry” the surgeon said “I can give you her room number though and you can go sit by her bed. Hopefully she’ll be awake soon and we can get an ultrasound done for the baby” he told me as I nodded afraid to speak.
Once I had her room number I took the elevator up and walked in when I reached the door. She was laying so peacefully, it almost looked like she was sleeping minus the monitors around her and the bandage wrapped around her head. I wanted to break down but I knew I needed to be strong for her and our child.
I carefully sat down in the chair next to her bed, reaching for her hand, holding it gently and placing a delicate kiss on her bruised knuckles.
“Oh mon amour” I whispered “I need you to wake up, not just for me but for our child” I said still whispering slightly even if no one was around “You’re my whole world, I cant lose you, either of you” I said placing a hand on her bump.
-
There was no movement or any change for the first few hours, I was starting to lose hope so I went to the one place I thought might be able to help.
I quietly walked into the prayer room, taking a seat in one of the back isles. I wasn’t an overly religious person which was why I wasn’t here for God but rather someone else.
“Jules, if you can hear me I need you to do me a favour” I started closing my eyes “Please please pull some strings and do what you can up there to help her and our baby, I cant lose them too” I said as I felt a tear fall from my eye
“As much as I know you’d take care of them up there, I don’t want that” I continued opening my eyes and wiping the tears that started to fall “Just please, you and Papa, I need you two to help us out down here” I finished before getting up and walking back to her hospital room.
-
Y/N’s POV
Everything hurt. I felt this weight on me but I couldn’t figure out if it was really there or if my body just felt heavy. I used every bit of strength I had to try and open my eyes which wasn’t easy, especially with this weight on me.
Eventually the light started to shine through and after a couple blinks my eyes focused on a white ceiling. I couldn’t move my head too much but I was able to take a glance around me, I was in a hospital.
I thought back to the last thing I remembered and suddenly it all came rushing back, where I was going, starting to cross the street, the impact of the car, then after that it goes dark.
I noticed a head on my lap, confused at first but then soon realized it belonged to my boyfriend. He must’ve been sleeping. More of the day came back to me; texting him before the race, not being able to watch it.
My throat was extremely raw but between my slight movement and struggling to take a few breaths I was able to muster out his name which got his attention immediately.
“Oh my love youre awake” he said, I saw tears forming in his eyes “Wait here drink some water, the doctor said it might hurt to talk at first” he said as he leaned over grabbing a cup from the bedside table, helping me drink the water. It helped with the raw feeling.
“Thank you” I said softly “What happened?” I asked even though I remembered some of what had actually happened.
“You were in an accident. Someone hit you with their car, the paramedics said your head was bleeding when they arrived on scene and it caused a bleed in your brain but the surgeons were able to stop it” he started explaining what happened after it went dark.
“You also have a couple broken ribs but they’ll heal with time” he finished stroking my face
“I was so scared when I got the call. I don’t think I’ve ever moved so fast to get out of the paddock before” he told me softly. I could tell he was barely holding it together.
“Im okay. Im here” I reassured him taking his hand squeezing it so he knew this was real, he nodded.
“What about the baby? Is the baby okay?” I asked suddenly as I glanced at my bump
“They haven’t been able to do an ultrasound without you awake but they aren’t sure, they said we should be prepared for the worst” he told me sadly. I sighed, there was no way this could be happening. Before we could say anything more to each other, my surgeon came in
“Oh Miss Y/L/N, it’s lovely to see you awake” he smiled at me, I did my best to smile back, he had saved my life after all.
“Im assuming your boyfriend told you everything I passed along to him so I wont bore you with the details again” he continued “I will say your broken ribs should take about 6 weeks to heal and you’ll have to come back for weekly checkups for your head until we can be sure it hasn’t started bleeding again” he went through his doctor notes.
I nodded along with him “And one last thing, I’ve called the on call obstetrcian to come and do an ultrasound to see the status of your baby. She should be here any minute and once she’s done, depending on what she finds we may have to take follow up steps but we wont go down that road now. I’ll send a nurse in after the ultrasounds done to check on your vitals and then we can talk about discharge” he finished. I thanked him before he left.
“Mon amour are you okay? Thats a lot to take in” Charles asked gently holding my hand
“Yeah yeah I’m okay, I just don’t know what we’ll do if we lost the baby” I shared with him using my other hand to rest on my bump
“We’ll figure it out together” he told me leaning over and leaving a kiss on my forehead.
-
After a few minutes passed, another doctor came in
“Hi I’m Doctor Smith” she introduced herself as she wheeled in an ultrasound machine with her “Lets see what’s going on with your little one” she said trying to be optimistic although everyone knew the results may not be good.
I carefully lifted my gown up to reveal my stomach where she squeezed the ultrasound gel on then used the wand to move it around, turning the machine on.
Charles held my hand, not sure if he realized how tightly he was holding it but it didn’t matter I was squeezing his hand just as tightly.
The room was silent while Dr. Smith continued to move the wand around starting to get a bit nervous until suddenly the silence was filled with a heartbeat.
At first we didn’t know if we had heard it correctly but then she moved the wand slightly over and the heartbeat became louder and clearer. I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding in and felt the tears falling.
When I turned to Charles he was also crying. I did my best to pull him closely to hug him, he wrapped his arm around me kissing my head. “They’re okay. They’re okay” he said as I nodded against him.
“You have a very strong and healthy little boy here, I don’t see anything to be concerned about” Dr. Smith told us
We pulled away from each other and looked at her “Did you say boy?” I asked. She suddenly became aware of what she had said
“Oh im sorry did you not want to know?” she asked, I shook my head,
“No no it’s okay, we just hadn’t gotten around to finding out yet” I explained as happy tears continued to fall.
She smiled at me “I’ll give you a moment and then I’ll be back with your surgeon” she told us as she used a cloth to wipe the gel off my stomach and then left the room, leaving the ultrasound machine in the corner.
“Charles we’re having a boy” I said to him seeing he was in shock “Are you okay?” I asked worried since he hadnt said anything
“Oh yeah i’m okay mon amour, I’m just taking everything in, I was so worried we had lost him” he told me
“Come here” I said carefully moving over remembering about the broken ribs “No mon amour you shouldn’t move” he quickly said
“Charles please come sit with me” I asked him, he saw the look in my eyes and knew there was no point in arguing so he carefully got up and sat next to me on the bed, being mindful of my broken ribs and the wires.
I looked at him “We’re all okay, me you and our little boy” I reassured him placing his hand on my bump, he nodded.
“I love you so much” he told me kissing my head again
“We love you just as much” I said back to him closing my eyes and enjoying being in his arms, knowing our baby was okay and eventually I’d be okay too.
"Oh wait how did the race go?" I asked suddenly remembering, opening my eyes and looking at him
He chuckled slightly "I got P2" he told me a small smile appearing on his face. I gave him a similar smile back and kissed his cheek carefully
"Another thing to be happy about, congrats baby" I told him putting my head back on his shoulder as he entertained our hands together and kissed the top of my head.
There may have been some obstacles thrown our way and more to come but together we could face anything.
-
thanks for reading, i hope you liked it. i wanted to write something other than pure fluff so i hope this does well. let me know your thoughts and feel free to add yourself to my taglist for my future works <3
taglist: @namgification @itsyagirlmeee @asparklysoul @bwormie @meadhbhcavanagh @talksoprettyjjx @ari-nicole
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heyyyy ryyyyy <333
since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?
obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this
hope you have a great day bb
Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.
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5.3k words
You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that.
Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama.
When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you.
It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.
You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.
While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were.
Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death.
Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow.
The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone.
Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed.
“Nightmare?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders.
“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back.
The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.
Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger.
When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections.
Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there.
6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him.
“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.
“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.
“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.
“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating.
“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”
“Are you going to tell them?”
“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.”
A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.
Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would.
It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself.
Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once.
So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.
“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”
“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.
“Who do you think I am?”
“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited.
“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting.
“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!”
“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”
“Maybe..”
“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”
So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores.
Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving.
Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.
Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird.
One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was.
When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.
When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind.
When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning.
So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.
“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.
Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it.
When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped.
You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.
While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last.
“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”
Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe.
The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you.
Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to.
So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough.
When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence.
Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.
When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.
Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear.
“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”
That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that.
Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.
She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky.
What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you.
When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.”
Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”
And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were.
Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.
So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it.
War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.
“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable.
“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.
Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.
Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.
Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.
Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left.
Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.
Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.
Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had.
He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.
Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.
He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.
Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother.
He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too.
Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her.
He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size.
Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much.
“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”
Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.
#dc#jason todd#dick grayson#tim drake#fem reader#batman x reader#bruce wayne x reader#Damian wayne#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#barbara gordon#batfamily x reader#batmom reader#batmom#request#cipheress-to-k-pop
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*jump scares you with lore art for my poppy playtime au*
I've been a fan of Poppy Playtime for awhile now, and it's kinda been my most recent hyperfixation.
In this au, the player is a former employee of playtime Co. named Patrick Desmond. He worked in the Game Station, caring for the children as they arrived. About a year into his employment, Patrick met a teacher from the Playcare named Lilith. The pair started working more closely after Patrick was promoted to a position in her school, started dating, and got married two years after meeting. (A healthy hetero couple???Nani??)
Some time later, a boy named Daniel Harvey came into the factory. He was orphaned at five years old, and was taken in by Playtime Co. He was meant to become a test subject; they intended to use him to create DogDay, but he was one of the lucky few to escape when Patrick and Lilith adopted him at 7.
Lilith sadly wound up losing her job at Playtime Co., when Miss Delight was created. She was heartbroken at leaving her students, but made the most of it by focusing on her adopted son, and her new life as a mother.
Patrick stayed at Playtime Co. for another four years. As time passed, he became more suspicious. Why did kids keep disappearing? Why was no one answering any questions? Everything came to a head when a child he was watching dropped her Mommy Longlegs toy, and Patrick was mortified to see blood spilling from between the plastic.
Following that incident, Patrick began scrutinizing Playtime Co. more closely. In a risky move, he snuck into his manager's office to investigate. He wound up finding papers describing the requirements for experiment test subjects. With that, he realized that all the rumors he'd heard over the years were true, that this childcare program was nothing more than a way for the company to gather subjects for their sick experiments.
Patrick made up his mind; he put in his two weeks notice. His boss wasn't happy, but Patrick was determined to muscle through the last weeks and leave this pit of a factory.
Now, as is canon, he called in sick on August 8th, 1995. The Hour of Joy. Daniel brought a cold home from school, and Patrick caught it. The next day, despite still being ill, Patrick tried to go to work. When he saw a flood of cop cars outside the factory, Patrick figured they'd been exposed for their crimes, turned tail and went straight home.
The police asked questions, of course, but since Lilith hadn't been there for years and Patrick had missed work that day, they had little reason to ask much of them. They still cooperated insofar as they could.
Ten years went by, and though Patrick had gotten a new job at a grocery store, Playtime Co. was always on his mind. The couple agreed that Danny was the only good that came from the situation, but Patrick could never shake the guilt. He had no idea what happened in the factory, or why he never saw any former employees around. Still, the guilt of leaving when there was clearly something going on lingered.
So when he received a vintage Poppy Playtime advertisement and a messily written plea to return, Patrick hardly thought twice.
Daniel, 17 now, had grown up with a loving but guilt ridden Patrick as his dad. He didn't know what exactly went down in the factory, but had memories of Playcare and the way he and the other kids were treated. He knew his dad felt guilty about leaving the factory, so when Patrick ran off without warning Danny knew exactly where he went.
Danny would be damned if he let his Dad go trudge through the painful memories of the past alone, so he went in after Patrick, facing what could have been his fate in his quest to find his father.
Lilith has her own demons regarding that factory, so she always held her husband back from returning. Her worst nightmare came to fruition when both her husband and son charged headlong right into the belly of the beast. Not willing to stand by while her family went down the drain, Lilith put aside her fear of Playtime Co. and went in after them.
So we have a man riddled with survivors guilt, a boy facing what his fate was meant to be, and a woman who knows more than she lets on...
Mayyybe a fic upcoming?? I'm still working on my Mario one, I promise. I've just hit a creative roadblock, so I'm gonna try to redirect to a different project and revisit it later to see if the flow returns. Sorry to keep you waiting!🙏
Let the games begin.
#traditional art#ao3 stuff#poppy playtime chapter 3#poppy playtime#poppy playtime ocs#dogday my beloved#more to come#lore dump#poppy playtime au
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like father, like son || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!Reader
AVAILABLE ON AO3
request for @zomb-1-egutzz
Inspiration: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys
Summary: Taking care of Carl, was like instinct. Ever since you've met him, you've just cared for him like your own. You don't know why, you just slotted into his side. And you thought that was pretty simple. But, what you had never thought about, was what it would mean for Rick.
TWs: mention of Lori's death, mention of Hershel's death, mention of Beth's death, angst, crying, essentially a panic attack, pent-up emotions, cursing, blood, gunshot wounds, injuries, unrequited love (but not really), and all things TWD.
[[A/N: hey bestie <333, hope you like it. I write as a stress reliever but this one kinda hurt a little bit. And just fyi, Carl is alive and well, (canon is not real, so it will not hurt me). Also, Rick is down bad in this. Terribly down bad. Enjoy :))) ]]
You were a long-time family friend of the Greene's, and when you had nowhere else to go, you went to Hershel's farm. Even before the apocalypse, you helped when you could on the farm, and you knew all of them really well. A little like they were family.
But when it all started... everything went to shit for you pretty quickly.
And you... you had nowhere else to go.
With your family's blood on your hands and visions of unhinged jaws (that you didn't think you'd ever wash away), you ran as fast as you could. You just let your feet guide you and ended up on the Greene farm.
You still remember how hard they hugged you when you showed up, even with the blood (their blood) all over you. They held you then and kept you breathing for a long time. You don't know what you would've done without them.
But one day (after weeks of being helpless and grieving a loss you just couldn't get over, not really), you just pushed it all down with one motto: keep breathing.
You didn't get to enjoy life anymore, how could you? The world was ending, and all you needed to do was stay alive.
You didn't have to like it.
So you asked Hershel how to shoot a gun, and taught yourself how to use a knife. You knew Hershel didn't like it, the violence, but you wouldn't hear it. Because if your family had lost their lives, you sure as hell weren't losing yours.
The Greenes were worried about you, you could tell. Every day that went by where you didn't smile or laugh, and instead, practiced shooting bottles or killing a few walkers for the thrill of it, they stared at you just a little longer. With just a mix of worry and pity.
You didn't want to worry them, but you were just doing what you had to, to survive.
If you thought about your family... you'd probably run into the walkers. Tear the life out of your body yourself. How were you supposed to enjoy life when they got that privilege ripped away? It wasn't fair.
So, you avoided everything else and kept your focus on five things: breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food. That was it. You would even offer to go get things out of your own volition, and all your trips made you good at killing walkers. You did it effortlessly early on, and you're pretty sure the Greenes couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.
But everything changed when a Dad showed up begging Hershel to save his kid.
That day had made your head spin, seeing a little boy have a gunshot wound. It made your eyes burn, and your head fill with what plagued your nightmares (unhinged jaws and bloody hands). You avoided the kid at all costs.
You hadn't initially known Rick, or even really wanted to (him, Lori, and Shane were definitely far too much for you to handle) but you were kind of the mediator. Hershel hated the violence that his group had, but he loved you. And Rick's group agreed with your 'violent' ways, so naturally, you sat right in the middle.
You didn't want it, perse, but you got used to it pretty quickly. You truly couldn't count on both hands how many times you had to step physically in between Hershel and Rick. So, somehow, someway, you'd earned his trust and respect.
That being said, you didn't really talk. Rick had a lot on his shoulders, with a pregnant wife, an injured son, and whatever the hell he and Shane had going on (you stayed the fuck away from that). And you weren't really a 'get to know me' kind of person at the time.
But, everything shifted when his kid got better.
You watched him kind of roam around the farm a lot. Rick and Lori had a lot going on, you understood that, and you know Rick tried but he still looked... lonely. And there was something heavy in you that knew he wasn't going to really have a childhood, that he lost something so precious.
There was nothing different that day, at all. You woke up, made sure your knife was safe in your pocket and went out. You did that often, even though Hershel and the girls hated it, just disappeared into nearby neighborhoods or whatever buildings you could get into (you were getting good at picking locks). That day you were looking for anything you could get your hands on, anything.
Endlessly walking through a culdesac, darting in between each house, trying to find anything of value. Food, water, something to help with shelter-
Instead, you found something else.
In the dead grass of one of these classy houses' front yard was one soccer ball. It was dirty, but not too bad for the apocalypse (you had seen far worse, and were probably worse yourself actually). With a thought, you picked it up in your hands, squeezing it, and it wasn't flat either.
You weren't sure why (or maybe you knew exactly why), but that's all you brought back to the farm.
Every day, when your brain would get to be too much, you'd throw it around in your hands or dribble it around the yard. At first, Maggie had looked at you oddly, but now, it seemed to relax her (and Beth and Hershel). It was healthier, or they, at the very least, thought so.
You could pretty much immediately feel his eyes on you though, a little longingly. Maybe that's why, when you'd never kicked it too far in the entire time you had it, you kicked it too far.
It rolled up and hit him in the back of the leg.
He turned to look at you, blue eyes sparkling a little, and then down at the ball.
On instinct, you spoke, "Shit."
The kid looked directly at you then.
"Don't say that, kid," you mended, quickly -maybe even a little awkwardly.
"Carl," he spoke then.
You questioned, "What?"
"My name's Carl," he explained with quite the intention in his voice, "-not kid."
You laughed a little, maybe for the first time in a while. You could nearly hear Maggie's gaze snap to you at the sound. She was always the most worried.
"Well, Carl," you hummed, playfully, "-you gonna pass me my ball back?"
He pressed his lips together in a thin line like he was thinking -the hat on his head wobbled a little. It was endearing.
"Only if you let me play too," he negotiated, a big grin on his face and something in you softened (for the first time in a long time).
You tilted your head, hand on your hip, "You drive a hard bargain, sir."
Carl laughed, and you felt your smile grow bigger. Now, you felt more eyes on you, Rick and Lori. Or at least Rick.
Apparently, you were making quite the spectacle.
"Alright, Carl," you finally replied, "-you've got a deal."
That was when it all started when Carl changed your life. Every day that you could, you'd play a game of soccer with him, eventually it developed more into a chatty sort of game. He told you a lot, and you told him about the things you used to do as a kid.
It felt like you had a hand in helping him keep his innocence. It was nice.
You remember the eyes sort of fading off of you, well. Except for one.
Rick was always watching. You couldn't understand if it was a Carl thing, or a worrying thing, or what exactly. But, you did notice it.
And eventually, Carl convinced him to join too.
"C'mon, Dad," he pleaded, "-just one game."
"Carl, I gotta-"
"Please," he turned on the puppy dog eyes, you laughed a little at how he softened immediately. His eyes shot to yours a second at the noise, you didn't think much of it.
"How are we supposed to play wit' just three of us?" He relented, just a smidge, "-Don't we need equal teams?"
Carl frowned.
Your mouth was open before you could even stop it, "Oh, please, I'm good enough to take the two of you on my own."
Rick's lips quirked into a smile, you had the thought that he was handsome before shoving it far away, "Are ya?"
"I am," you reiterated, just doing what felt natural, "-you too scared to try, Grimes?"
Carl laughed at that, almost giddy, it made something in your chest warm. Mission accomplished.
And with a breath, Rick readied himself -blue eyes solid on yours, "'S see whatcha got, Y/N."
That wouldn't be the last time the three of you would play soccer together, but it would be the first time you really got to know Rick. It remained that way, where you just played with Rick and Carl on days they could or days you could.
You'd found a connection, and it was nice.
But then, you were kind of a friend to Carl. You truly cared about him, yeah, you weren't on the level of a parent for him. Not at all. That just wasn't your dynamic, you didn't want to step on any toes.
Lori's or Rick's.
Before you could stop it, the fateful day arrived.
You were strung between a delicate mix of concern and disbelief. The overthrow of the farm was big, and maybe so was finding the prison, but this... this day was much worse.
You'd known Lori a little bit better then, she talked to you a little (because you were always around Carl). And she seemed nice, really, just in a fucked up situation that she could hardly handle herself. Nevertheless, to handle it for Carl. Plus, the whole Shane situation... He was dead now, and that really couldn't be easy on her conscience. (You kind of gathered the situation a little bit, when you were getting to know Rick. He hadn't said anything, but you understood enough.)
And when she went into labor, you hated that you weren't hopeful. Hated it.
Carl went with Maggie to help deliver, and your heart twisted in your chest (so insanely worried) but you needed to help the others.
When Maggie came out of the room, with just Carl and the baby -blood all over her hands, your heart sunk to the bottom of your chest. Lower, if it could. There was this little spark of hope that Carl was okay, but then you looked at him, really looked at him.
Rick was crying, and belligerent, and he did the very same. Just looked at his son, "No, no, no-"
God, he... he didn't-
You don't think you could ever forget the next moment.
A sob was racking up your throat, heavy and so suffocating as you watched Rick just lose it and Carl stayed steady in place, only looking at the ground. And you felt like you were going to throw up.
Stomach twisting, as your eyes got cloudy.
You hadn't even noticed it, maybe because your mind was reeling, but then you heard the slap of footsteps and then a body running into yours. Carl, Carl-
Hands shaking, your hands wrapped around him, holding him tightly -swallowing back what you could. Your body moved on its own.
You crouched down, you couldn't stop the tears then, eyes skimming over his face. He was just looking at you, blue eyes filling with tears, and before you knew it you were cupping his face and wiping all of them away.
"Oh, baby, baby-" you were whispering, just for him to hear, "-I'm so sorry."
And then, you pulled him into another hug. That time you didn't let go, you would hold him until he did. Tears wetting your shoulder you only squeezed him tighter -kissing him on the forehead when it felt like your soul was crushed into pieces.
That was where it started.
You still went on trips, but you stayed around a lot more. Because, as you were caring for Carl, you also started caring for Rick. They went hand-in-hand. That was much more important than anything else.
It started with going on trips, and getting Carl books and candy when you could. It grew from there though, you started siphoning off some of your food to give him extra. When he would get hurt, even small little cuts, you were immediately there -patching him up. Making sure he was completely fine.
And Rick... well, he was more complicated. It was dragging him away from the farm when he seemed so tired he could barely stand, it was getting him out of bed when he didn't want to even breathe, it was making sure he was eating, and it was sometimes guiding him back to reality when he saw Lori.
He started getting better eventually, and you did convince him to go see the baby. He'd been avoiding her as much as physically possible; you told him he should.
"She's a piece of Lori that you'll always have, Rick. Her and Carl."
He'd look at you a certain type of way you couldn't label then, but eventually agreed. So, you thought it was going well. As he became more conscious again though, similar to his previous self (sometimes you thought maybe even better), he started noticing.
Rick saw all that Carl had gathered, the finger pointed back to you. He was eating candy, the finger pointed back to you. Carl fell and scraped his knees, you were near immediately by his side while Rick watched (the finger pointed back to you).
And when you ate, you'd done how you always did, almost on instinct. Siphoning off some of your food and piling it onto Carl's plate.
You're not sure when Rick caught that, at all, really. But you knew he did.
Because, eventually, he started sitting beside you, and as quick as you'd siphon off to Carl, he'd siphon some of his off to you.
The first time he'd done it, you froze -staring at your plate.
"Rick, you don't-"
He didn't even flinch, blue eyes taking you in -grateful, "I do."
"Well," you reasoned, "-don't do it every day. You need to eat too."
"Don't ya give some to Carl every day?"
"Yeah, but-"
"No buts," he promptly finished, smiling at you in a new type of way, continuing his conversation with Daryl.
He'd done similar things, and eventually, your care spanned over to Judith. It wasn't as pressing as Carl, as Beth usually had her dealt with, but you'd been the one to feed her a few times (sat right beside Carl). And you won't lie you did do the baby voice a few times.
You didn't know it then, but Rick was looking at you in a new type of way.
And then, things happened in rapid succession.
The Governor did what he did, and Hershel died right in front of your eyes. You grabbed Maggie that day so tight, holding her as you both fell to the ground. It felt just like when your family... Your heart was thrown out of your chest and stomped into the dirt.
The fall of the prison didn't give you much time to grieve. You'd escaped with Carl and Rick, Judith had disappeared and you hoped with everything in your chest that she was still alive. God, you had never felt so low in your life.
Those days weren't good, and you had holed yourself up -lock and key. The only person who could through to you was Carl, despite how much Rick tried.
Breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food, but just for a bigger audience now.
The Claimers only proved you right. Seeing Carl like that, the threats of what they were going to do to him? You would've snapped if Rick hadn't.
"He's mine."
That day, you felt yourself come back again.
You held Carl tight against your chest, rubbing his hair over and over. Just before that, you scanned his whole body carefully -looking everywhere for anything at all. You would've killed them again if you could have if there was.
Holding him, you recenter yourself -calming the shake of your hands and the beating of your heart. You whispered, "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay-"
Carl had stopped you then, leveling his blue eyes on you, "I'm okay."
You smiled, maybe a little teary, reiterating, "You're okay."
And then, you saw Rick.
That was the thing about you, you were hardwired to care for them both at this point (for maybe more reasons than one, but you wouldn't admit that out loud). Making sure Carl was entirely fine, you kissed his forehead and spoke.
"Imma go help your Dad, okay?"
Hunting down a rag and a little bit of extra water, you slowly made your way over to him. He still had his eyes closed, and his hands were shaking; you simply sat right in front of him -wordlessly. You hardly even breathed, not wanting to startle him at all, but somehow still wanting to to bring him back.
You waited, patiently, for his eyes to open again, and when they did, you smiled a little.
"Hey, Grimes," you whispered, brandishing the rag, "-Thought you might need a little help, that okay?"
He looked at you in the same type of way he always did, one that you still couldn't label.
Before speaking lowly and a little slurred in his accent, "Yeah, 'at's okay."
You took a careful breath and leaned forward -gently scrubbing the blood off of his skin. Moving slowly, his eyes fluttered shut, and something in your chest tightened. He trusted you so much.
Your heart lept into your throat at the thought, and you took the moment to just look at Rick. How he differed from the first time you saw him, the time in his face. Longer hair that curled, the stubble that climbed up his cheeks, he was so different, but still somehow the same. Your heart stuttered in your chest.
That wasn't new, but it felt like it was.
With a breath, you continued wiping away what you could -pushing all around his face, smoothing over his lips, and dabbing a little on his facial hair. You moved slowly, not wanting to irritate his skin, but it made it take a little longer. As you did so, your fingertips brushed along his skin -just a little. It made your head spin.
You leaned back, satisfied, before grabbing his hands -left one first. You looked at them a moment, eyeing the callouses and the rough skin along his palm. His life was riddled on them, practically written there.
You cleared your throat, blinking back into focus.
Scrubbing away on the back and then flipping it to the front, you repeated the process.
He was looking at you now, blue eyes intently focused. You felt his steady gaze as you curled your hands around his, and for a moment it felt like you couldn't breathe.
Your heart beating heavily in your chest, you tried to stay focused.
When his skin was a sort of pink instead of blood red, you let go of his hands. Decidedly, you patted his cheek with a smile (the buzz of his skin against yours made your head spin).
"All better," you chimed, playfully.
He laughed a little then, and you felt something in you stir. Long ago dormant. Handsome, your mind spoke.
It was suddenly very hard to ignore it now, though. This close to his face, and he kind of looked like he-
With a breath, snapping your eyes from his and clearing your throat. "I'll um, go see if Carl needs me."
He just smiled at you in a certain type of way.
The two of you never talked about it again, but you did find him looking at you more.
And then Terminus.
To think about it now, made your skin crawl and bile rise up your throat. Beth died right in front of you, shot right through the head. She wasn't... There was no way-
You felt part of yourself crumble that you didn't think you could get back. God, she was so young-
You had new nightmares; they made your stomach twist and your sleep come to a relative halt. It wasn't just your family now (although it kind of was), it was Beth and Hershel. They had both been so sudden, your mind was still reeling. The gunshot bouncing through your ears, even now, as you lay on a blanket -Carl just beside you.
Your eyes snapped to him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Alive, it thrummed along your mind, alive.
You watched it for a few moments, letting your mind settle on that fact. Carl is safe, Carl is fine. Something in your shoulders relaxed, and your breaths weren't as heavy in your lungs.
Alive, alive, alive, alive.
Your stomach twisted because you didn't know if Judith was.
Instinctively, you shot up in your spot, breaths hollowed out in your chest. You blinked a few times, bringing yourself back to the ground beneath your fingers. Chancing a look at Carl again, you found him still fast asleep.
You exhaled a long breath, you weren't going to sleep tonight. Every time you closed your eyes, you'd either see... them or Carl could be hurt, there was no good reason to sleep.
Shaking your hands, you stood up. You stood there a moment, taking in the night -the buzz of the bugs, the shine of the stars, and the (luckily) very distant groans of the walkers.
"Ya okay?"
You startled in place, shit. Rick was on watch duty, you forgot. You tried to volunteer, but he'd refused ("'Aven't seen you sleep a second."). You weren't sure how to feel about how attentively he seemed to watch you.
You bit at your lips a second, swallowing, and wiping your hands down your legs. Your eyes were fogging up, and your throat was clogged. You felt a little like you couldn't breathe-
"Y/N?"
You blinked, deliriously, and your eyes were watery now, and it felt somehow like your lungs were filled. A bit like every breath got stuck in your throat.
"Hey, hey, look at me, sweetheart."
And then, Rick was suddenly in front of you. You hadn't even heard him move, the pounding of your heart was so loud-
With the gentlest of movements, he held your jaw, bringing your eyes to his.
"Hey," he spoke gently, concern flitting through his eyes, "-hey. 'At's goin' on?"
You swallowed, something clawing up your throat (but your heart was softer in your head now), your eyes falling to his jacket, "I just-"
"C'mon, talk to me," he hummed, bringing his eyes to yours again -something heavy in his eyes, worry.
"I just," and you felt your voice catch in your throat, you felt the tears slip out of your eyes, "-I just... I just miss them, and... and every time I close my eyes, Rick, it's just-"
His thumbs rubbed away your tears, gently moving back and forth, "I know, baby, I know. I miss 'em too."
Something in your mind noted that 'baby' was new, but you weren't focused on that. Your mind was running at 100 miles an hour, and all you could see clearly was Rick.
Your body acted on instinct, as you threw yourself into him -digging your face into his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his neck. He seemed slow to react for a moment, but carefully, his hands came to wrap around your waist.
You took a deep breath in, just smelling the woodsy smell he always seemed to carry around with him. It made the tension in your body melt, and he seemed to notice it -tightening his grip slightly.
"I gotcha," he whispered, maybe like he was a little scared to break the moment, "-'s gonna be okay, I promise."
You fell asleep on his shoulder later that night, one of his arms tight along your side. And if he shushed everyone that morning afterward (wanting to keep you close as long as possible maybe), kissing your temple whenever you stirred, looking at you a little like you were the most precious thing in the world, you'd never know.
It was easier after that. Any time you felt it all coming back up, Rick would be right there, hand smoothed along your shoulder, pushing you into his side, or brushing his hand along yours while you walked. You weren't sure if you could get used to it all.
And then, a good day came.
Judith, baby Judith was back.
You felt the sob wrack up through your throat, as you smoothed your hand over her little hair. Your breaths were shaky but you were smiling, and so were both Rick and Carl. All of you were huddled together, crying, and for a split second, it felt like maybe you were a little family.
You bit back the thought but peeked up at Rick just to find him looking right back at you. Something in your chest fluttered.
Finding Alexandria was a little like a fever dream, all of you weren't trusting it, especially since Terminus. But eventually, something in you relaxed as you watched Carl know people his age and find friends. You weren't as scared anymore.
That being said, you had your own home, but it stayed empty. You were constantly in the Grimes' house. Whether for Carl, Judith, or Rick, you were always there. And Rick didn't seem to mind at all. (Sometimes you thought he preferred it.)
That day was a normal one, you'd crossed on over to the Grimes' -bouncing a little on your toes. It was your day to watch Judith, well, it always kind of ended up being a team effort at the end. But, if Rick had something to do, you'd be on baby duty.
Walking in like you always did, the house was eerily quiet.
You pursed your lips, "Rick?"
He called out, from the kitchen you'd guessed (you could hear the sizzle of a pan), "In 'ere!"
You moved with a practiced grace, smoothing around the piles of toys like you lived here (and in essence, you kind of did). Just as you entered the doorway, you started again.
"Hey, where are our kids?"
And then you stepped into the room and got a look at Rick. Clean-shaven Rick. Sharp jawline, blue eyes, Rick.
Your mind went completely blank.
He turned to you then, sort of smiling, "Our?"
Blinking, you cleared your throat, "Sorry, what?"
"You said," he was stepping closer, something shining in his eyes, "-our kids."
It was hard to focus, but you'd gathered what he said.
"Shit, sorry," you started, scrambling a little, "-I didn't mean to-"
"No, no," he dismissed, eyes intently focused on yours (somehow you think his facial hair distracted from his eyes, were they always that blue?), "-you're right, darlin'. 'Ey are as much yours as 'ey are mine."
You took a deep breath in, deflecting a little and motioning to his face, "When did you...?"
"This mornin'," he answered, turning back to the pan (breakfast, you guessed), "-why? It look 'at bad?"
Your head was spinning, but you answered anyway.
"What, no," you answered, instinctively, "-it looks good. Great, actually."
He smiled at you in a sort of way you couldn't read, wearing his pajamas and hair slightly tussled -your mouth went dry.
"Yeah?"
You willed everything in yourself to say something witty, playful, like normal. But he was still looking at you, focused, and all your brain could think was blue-
"Yeah," you answered quietly.
He hummed a moment, hand coming up to rub at his jaw. Calloused fingers against the most certainly smooth skin, you briefly thought about touching it yourself.
You cleared your throat, "Sorry, so where are th- our kids?"
Rick's eyes smoothed over your face a second before he smiled, shaking his head, and dropped his eyes back to the pan, "Judith's still sleepin', and Carl is at a friend's."
"Which friend?" you asked, instinctively.
"He's fine, baby," he laughed a little like he was testing the word, "-ere's no need to be worried."
Baby rattled around your head for a few seconds, especially coming from that face. The last time he called you that, you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. And come to think of it, with how you were reacting to a shaved face, maybe he was onto something.
"Grimes," you leveled, but there wasn't any bite.
"I'm serious," he added, looking at you (blue, blue) -trying to convey it to you.
You pursed your lips, deadpanning, "You forgot, didn't you?"
"Maybe," he smiled at you, almost fondly, and your knees nearly buckled.
God, you needed to get a hold of yourself.
"I'll figure it out later," you remarked -passively, "-What are you making?"
He seemed to pause, eyes skimming along you like he was suddenly taking you in, before stepping to the side, "Come n' see for yourself."
You had the spare thought that he was doing it on purpose, before swatting it away and gathering by his side. Mindlessly, your brain noted his elbow bumping into you and the swarm of body heat that radiated off of him. You blinked it away.
He had a few things going, typical breakfast stuff, but you did decisively notice what looked to be a single portion of your favorite.
"Is that-"
"For ya? Yeah," he answered, unflinchingly, "-'Figured I could be sweet today."
You quipped back, looking up at him, "What a change of pace, Grimes."
He laughed at that, your eyes smoothed over his smile before dropping back to the food. Your breaths felt a little hollow in your chest for an entirely different reason.
You stood there and helped portion of the food, focused on placing plates out for him to then fill. You could feel his eyes steady on you as you did so, just until he started portioning. You promptly grabbed one of the other foods and portioned it yourself.
As soon as you finished, Rick spoke up.
"Did ya mean it?"
You looked at him, curiously, "What?"
"Our kids," he answered, something flickering behind his eyes, "-Do ya really think of 'em as your own?"
"As long as I'm not... overstepping," you clarified, dropping the pan into the sink, "-yeah, of course, I do."
He smiled a little, the flicker stronger now, "Really?"
"Well, yeah," you laughed, a little uncertain now, "-Should I not?"
"No," he echoed out, something heavy in his tone, "-you should. 'Ey're yours."
"Then, why-"
""S just nice to 'ear," he explained, pulling another one of the pans into the sink -sliding in just beside you.
"Why?" you questioned.
Rick looked at you, eyes flickering along your face, seeming to decide on something, "Can I show ya somethin'?"
You quirked a brow, playfully, "What is this something?"
"A gift," he answered, naturally.
You blinked, a little deliriously, "For me?"
"Yeah," he hummed, taking your wrist in his hand (your brain turned to mush) and guiding you through the house, "-'Course it is."
"Where did you get a gift?"
"On a run," he answered, easily, pulling you into his bedroom before letting go. He wandered over to his closet.
"Why-" you laughed a little, "-Why were you thinking of me on a run?"
Rick didn't hesitate a second, hands skimming over some shelves, "I'm always thinkin' of ya."
Your lips snapped shut, as your eyes just followed him around the room.
Since he was so preoccupied, you let your eyes roam over his jaw, the angular lines of his nose, the curve of his Adam's apple, the slight push of his lips, and the curl that seemed to trail down his forehead. You almost adjusted it yourself, but you fought back the urge.
"'Ere it is," he sighed, relieved, before seeming to gather something up in his arms.
You tried to peek over his shoulder, but he decidedly kept them too raised.
"Ya ready?" He chimed, excitingly.
You quipped, smiling, "I was born ready, Grimes."
Rick laughed at that, and you bit back the grin that threatened to slip across your face. There was something so domestic about all of this, it made your breath rattle in your chest, and your heart skip a beat.
And then, he turned around.
Your breath caught in your throat.
He held in his hands, a brand-new soccer ball, still in the package. Your brain buzzed for a moment, it was so sentimental. It made your head spin, making you a little breathless. A grin grew wide along your face, lips curling up.
"No way," you muttered, leaning forward and skimming your fingers across it, "-that is so sappy, Grimes."
He laughed a little, and your eyes flicked to him where a pink dusted up to the top of his ears. Your smile shone even brighter.
"Figured you could let me and Carl try to gain a little on your record," he smiled.
"What was it again?" you grinned, taking the ball into your hands, "-Four to zero?"
"Six," he corrected, instinctively (like he remembered), "-Six to zero."
Wordlessly, you gently took the box into your hands, his eyes steady on you.
"How long did it take to find this?"
"I was lookin' for the past few runs," he answered -vaguely.
"Looking?" You questioned, "-You plan this out, Rick?"
He hummed, smiling, "Maybe."
You quirked a brow, not quite looking at him, "What's the occasion, Grimes?"
He fell quiet then, and you promptly dropped your smile and looked at him. Eyes skimming along his face, he didn't seem upset. He seemed entirely the opposite, actually.
Blue eyes looking at you like they always did.
"Rick?" You asked, concern smoothing through you, "-Everything alright?"
He smiled a little, shaking his head a little, "God, you're... you're... you're unbelievable."
"Um," you flustered a little, holding the ball tighter to you, "-is that a good or a bad thing?"
"Good," he answered, with probably the biggest grin, "-great, it's a great thin'."
"Yeah? Well," you muttered out, a little frazzled, "-um, thank you."
He laughed a little bit, then but it slowly dissipated into the air. Leaving you and him, and his crazy blue eyes (seriously, how have you never noticed that?).
Rick spoke breathlessly then, rushed as if it was just waiting to come out (like it was building, building, building, until it burst), "I love you."
You dropped the ball (and box) right onto your feet. It stung a little.
"Shit," you hissed, before scrambling, "-Wait, that wasn't to you. I... I just I hit my toes with the box, and it hurt-"
He smiled at you even brighter then, eyes dropping to your feet, "Ya alright?"
"Yeah, what," you cleared your throat, "-I'm fine. I'm just... a little in shock, I guess."
"Yeah?" He asked, something lilting in his tone and you almost felt like he got closer to you.
"Yeah," you breathed out, "-I just... I never could've imagined a man like you, um, loving me."
He was definitely getting closer, blue eyes flickering between the two of yours, "A man like me?"
"It's a good thing," you explained, "-You're just caring, and I love your kids, and-"
His face was breath away from yours. Your lips moved before you could think about it.
"-handsome," you finished a little breathlessly.
He grinned then, crinkling at his eyes, and something there, deep in the blue. You couldn't tell if it was mischievous or loving or maybe even teasing-
"Am I?"
Something in you snapped.
You practically jumped forward, arms wrapping around his neck, and lips pressing to his. Rick laughed into it (which made you laugh a little too), but his hands sank to your waist entirely on instinct.
It was a little desperate, as Rick tilted his head just the right way and seemed to pour everything into his lips. Which were very much already good on their own. It made you dizzy, and you nearly stumbled in your steps, but he held you a little tighter and kept you in place.
Before, pulling you forward even more.
It sent a shock through your spine and made the breath slink out of your lungs.
Speaking of breath-
You pulled back, taking a deep breath in -mind a little hazy, "Jesus Christ."
Rick laughed, but still pressed forward, leaving little kisses on your lips -surface level. Again, and again, and again, and again-
Laughing, you moved your hands to his face, pulling him back, "Rick, you need to breathe, yeah?"
"Not as bad as I need ya," he retorted, before pressing kisses along your jaw.
It made your head spin, and maybe you were a little dizzy but you didn't think it was from the lack of oxygen.
"Rick," you urged, laughing.
He mindlessly moved down to your neck, a little like he couldn't get enough. It zapped through your spine again.
"Rick," you repeated, maybe with a little less laughter, "-c'mon, I have to tell you something."
He groaned, before pulling back to face you, blue eyes focused. Rick looked at your smile, and bit down his own.
You took a breath in, and cradled his face again (his skin was soft), "I love you too."
He grinned big and wide then, something shining in his eyes, "Ya don't know how long I 'ave waited to 'ear 'at."
"How long?"
He answered, with ease, "Since I saw ya givin' Carl your food."
"Rick," you almost soothed, "-that was forever ago. Why didn't you say something?"
"Was never the right time," he hummed, kissing you at the hinge of your jaw, "-I was goin' through somethin' and then ya were."
You hummed a moment, finally pushing back the loose curl.
"And I just-" he exhaled a breath, "-I wanted to make sure ya felt the same. Didn't want the kids to lose ya."
"Even if I didn't love you, Grimes," you soothed, trailing your hands along his jaw, "-They would've never lost me."
He just looked at you then, a little like he couldn't believe you were in front of him. Couldn't believe you were real.
"They're our kids," you offered with a teasing smile, "-are they not?"
"Yeah, 'ey are."
And without another breath, he kissed you so hard that it felt like your breath was knocked out of your lungs. But there was no way in hell that you were stopping.
You'd waited long enough for this.
He grinned against your lips, mindlessly kicking the soccer ball out of the way to get closer to you. Whispers of 'Ours' between every press of lips like he couldn't believe it. Or maybe like it was all he'd ever wanted.
And apparently, he had waited just as long.
#rick grimes#rick grimes x reader#its griming time#stuff n' thangs#rick grimes x you#rick grimes x y/n#ricky dicky doo dah grimes#twd#twd rick#rick grimes x y/n fanfiction#rick grimes oneshot#protective!rick
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Sunshine Court broke something in my brain, so here's some protective Jean because my boy is not gonna tolerate whatever is going on with Jeremy's family.
Tagging @bienmoreau @faintlyglow and @betterbekind
--
Jeremy's hands shake as he's getting ready for dinner with his family.
Jean doesn't mean to notice, perched as he is on the bed, watching the other man straightening his shirt in front of the dresser. Jeremy's very good at hiding it, with his easy smiles and easier deflections. By now, he knows it's an open secret that Jeremy avoids his family as best he can, and that Cat and Laila allow him his choice.
But Jean has spent his whole life reading into the slant of someone's posture to survive, and he knows the tremor in Jeremy's hands as if it was his own.
“You're afraid,” he says, the words arriving unbidden. But it's such a shock to see him like this– the man who stood in front of Jean at the darkest points of his life and refused to look away, cowed by the people who were supposed to love him.
This was Jean's friend, his partner, and he was feeling unsafe.
Jeremy jumps at the sound, either lost in his own thoughts or used to the quietness of Jean for the last few minutes. “What?”
Jean weighs what he wants to say. He knows he's had his fair share of truths he's asked to keep to himself, and that Jeremy has never pushed when it mattered. But he also thinks about “for now”, and how hard truths can only be avoided for so long. “Is it your parents?”
Jeremy's eyes widen, a nervous fidget in the set of his hands. If he wants to lie, Jean's already decided to allow it. But Jeremy finally says a quiet, “Yes and no.”
Jean nods. “Do they- are you safe?” He doesn't think he's seen bruises, and he remembers the horror in Jeremy's voice as he told Jean that his parents should have protected him. But maybe he was projecting?
Jeremy's shoulders deflate. “Jean, no. It's nothing like that. I promise, they've never laid a hand on me.” He smiles, a crooked thing that has Jean following the curve of his lips.
Still, Jean knows the way he's curled into himself, the way he's glancing at his phone as though it's about to jump at him. “But it's something.”
“It's just dinner. I can handle it. I know how to play the game and get out of there.” It's a perfectly neutral answer, but it's also more than he's said in months about what waits for him when he disappears to his family's home. Despite his living there most of the year, Jean refuses to call it Jeremy's home. His home is here, cleaning up with Laila and arguing with Cat, and where Jean can see him when his nightmares rattle him awake to count the rise and fall of Jeremy's breath from the next bed over.
“Do you want company?” It's a strange request, and Jean knows it as he says it. Jean still hates being around people, and speaking to a bunch of strangers even Jeremy is nervous around makes his stomach swim. But this is his partner, and if he needs him, he can be there for him. It is only fair.
Jeremy's face becomes unbearably gentle and Jean isn't ready to read into the fondness he sees there. “I will be okay. Like I said, I know how to do this.”
One part of Jean knows he should leave it at that. But the other part has cataloged the heaviness in Jeremy's countenance when he returns home– the rehearsed smile, the way he goes to bed early. The part that wins says, “I will walk home with you. When dinner is over.”
“You don't have to do that-”
“I want to,” he says, and he finds that he means it. The idea of Jeremy walking home by himself after spending an hour alone in a room of people is too much to bear. “Text me the address and I will be there.” He wanted to visit the grocery store anyway– he could do that while he waited. Cat would be happy to see the spice cabinet restocked.
“Alright,” Jeremy says, swallowing whatever protest sat on his lips. “Yeah, I'll- I'll text you.”
Jean nods, letting the matter drop while Jeremy finishes getting ready in amicable silence. When he leaves, it's with a nod that Jean recognizes, of someone who is resigning themselves to the inevitable.
He doesn't know how to keep him from hurting, but he is at least well versed in the aftermath.
–
Jean arrives at the intended address at the appointed time, not wanting to be there too early and seem suspicious. Jeremy is not forthcoming about his familial circumstances, but he knows there is money involved, and in Jean's experience, outsiders were not tolerated.
True to his word, Jeremy emerges after only a minute or two and his face lights up in a way that makes Jean's stomach twist when he spots him. He hurries toward Jean, and immediately begins walking once they reach each other.
It's easy to keep pace with him, but as Jeremy is about to breach the silence, a voice behind them brings him up short.
“I thought you knew better than to bring people like that to the house?”
Jean bristles at the implication, but he's more concerned with the way Jeremy stills at his side. When Jeremy doesn't reply, Jean tries to ignore it as well and continue forward, but the voice continues.
“Flaunting it in front of us like you don't even care what you did to the family? You deserve whatever happens, you-”
“You will not speak to him that way.”
Jeremy draws back in surprise, but Jean keeps his expression cool as he turns to face Jeremy's brother.
“What did you say to me?”
Jean glances at Jeremy, sure he's crossing a line but unable to stop himself. “I said, you will not speak to him like that.”
A snort. “He's my brother. I can say whatever I like. Besides, how exactly are you going to stop me?”
“Jean,” Jeremy's voice is small beside him and Jean does not rise to the bait.
He fixes the unfamiliar man with a cool glance. “Nothing. I know a great deal of small men exactly like you, and they always seem to get what they deserve in the end. I do not need to do anything to stop you. But no one has to listen to you either.”
With one last flat look, he walks, Jeremy matching his purposeful strides. As the silence grew longer between them, Jean wonders if he read this wrong, if Jeremy had not wanted him to say anything. Had he crossed a line? Had he made Jeremy feel unsafe?
“Thank you.”
Jean turns to look at him in surprise. “I did not mean to force you to face them before you were ready-”
“I'm not ready,” Jeremy admits. “And yeah, things will probably be pretty tense next time.” He rubs the back of his neck. “But- it means something to me that you were there. I– it made it easier, knowing you were there.”
Jean nods slowly, not trusting himself to be able to say anything. He had said it not because of anything owed between them, but because he could not bear to see Jeremy's light dimmed by those who were supposed to cherish him.
At last, he finds his voice to say, “I will not let you leave me behind.”
The smile Jeremy sends is a little tired, but it's also slow and soft and the first real one he's seen all night, so Jean counts it as a win.
Rainbows. Open roads. Friends. Jeremy's smile.
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Kid falls asleep somewhere and the caretaker finds them, bringing them to their bed
This is probably one of my favorite childhood memories 🥺❤️
Synopsis: Astarion is carrying his daughter to bed for the last time in her life.
Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, fluff
This is the fluffiest thing I ever written. And since you all like reading about Astarion's daughter's future - I've written the whole part with adult Alethaine POV as she takes care of her own child centuries later.
Alethaine's age (1st part) - 17-years-old
Alethaine's age (2nd part) - 316-years-old
Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
Astarion is drunk with blood and night. His body is warm but his head is dizzy with happiness. Here, deep in the woods of the Unicorn Run, he can be truly himself.
A predator. A hunter.
A vampire.
He is free. He is fast. He is dangerous. Animal blood satiates him and he feels like the shadows of the past are leaving him.
There are still nightmares. Sorrows. Sometimes he is so angry he smashes things against the wall or tries to tear at his hair.
But it doesn’t mean anything, after all. It all ended. For good.
He will never be hungry again. He will never be tortured. Or forced to sleep with strangers. No more pain, no more misery, no more rapes.
He has a home. He has a family. He even has friends who pretend they don’t know he is a vampire.
He has everything, and no one will take it from him.
Astarion comes back slowly, enjoying every step he makes with his bare feet. His ears twitch in anticipation – he knows he is being waited for at home. Tiriel will welcome him with her genuine smile, asking how his night walk was. Alethaine, their daughter, is probably somewhere else – she is seventeen and Astarion knows she has her own life right now, and he will know details of it only if she decides to tell.
Though, there is one problem.
Somehow Alethaine isn’t interested in relationships. Neither girls nor boys. Once she admitted to him she just didn’t get what all this fuss was about and the only person in the whole town who tried to ask her for a date ended up with a broken hand. Astarion refused to punish Alethaine for violence (“It’s your son’s problem if he can’t take ‘no’ for an answer, not mine.”), but it surprises him how little someone could care about love, relationships, and sex.
Alethaine read the Necromancy of Thay at fifteen and she understands it much better than he ever will, but boys and girls? Absolutely unknown and weird.
Astarion decides to take a long path to the underground part of the town to enjoy the surface at least a little bit more. It takes him to the town’s cemetery – its old part almost forgotten by humans and halflings whose lifespan is so short that elves and dwarves don’t have enough time to get used to them.
And then he sees a familiar black leather bag with books.
He turns left and sees Alethaine curled on someone’s century-old grave.
It seems like she was reading and then decided to take a nap putting the book aside. Astarion picks the book up. Dragons, wyrms and drakes. The study. Probably one of the books she got from a traveling merchant a month ago. Astarion remembers how she came home with a huge pile of volumes proudly saying that she’s spent all the money she earned by working in the tavern and fortune-telling.
1000 Poisons and Antidotes, A Field Guide To Fey, Thirty Ways To Skin a Dragon, Myth and Legends of Calimshan and also a few books in Infernal she got to “practice”.There was something else but Astarion doesn’t remember.
Astarion reaches out for her shoulder to wake her up but then stops. There is something so precious and unreal he can’t take his eyes off Alethaine.
She is beautiful. People say she looks like him, but he can’t be sure. Pale skin, elven ears, hair as silver as the moonlight. She is delicate like a fey and looks as fragile as a porcelain doll.
Astarion concentrates and hears her heartbeat.
So alive. So real. So precious.
In moments like this, he can’t believe she is his child. When she was a baby, he mostly adored how cute she was. But now—
It’s probably the first time Astarion realizes his daughter is almost an adult.
She is a beautiful and smart woman, her very own person, so different from both him and Tiriel. Damn, Tiriel is often asked what crypt she found her daughter in!
Astarion smiles looking at his baby – she will always be a baby to him. No matter how many centuries will pass, he will never forget a tiny dhampir who constantly cried to get his attention. And whom he carried to bed if she fell asleep playing with her dolls.
Astarion feels an itchy sensation on his skin. The sunrise.
When exactly was the last time he carried his daughter in his hands?
Astarion takes the book on dragons, puts it in the bag, and then lifts Alethaine up.
She grunts something but doesn’t wake up.
“Come on, let’s return home. Days are merciless and cruel for the creatures of the night,” he chuckles.
Alethaine feels almost weightless in his arms as he returns to the underground part of Daggrerlake. Soon Alethaine will leave them, he knows that. She is already preparing to become an adventurer, though he suspects she will spend another year under their roof. Seventeen years is such a short amount of time.
But it’s her whole life.
Tiriel welcomes them in the yard and chuckles, seeing Alethaine fast asleep in his arms.
“Oh, I thought she was way too adult for that,” she smiles, opening the door. “Where was she?”
“The old graveyard.”
“Well, her favorite place in the town,” she whispers. “Right after the tavern where she frauds travelers with her fortune telling.”
Alethaine lacks any fortune-telling abilities except for good intuition. But strangers who stay at the inn owned by a family of dwarves don’t know that. They just see a very pale and mysterious-looking elf who is advertised to them as a witch.
Once, a fighter who Alethaine told he would get a wife soon, returned to her angry and pissed because his attempt to matchmake a princess ended up with him being whipped in a town square. It’s probably the only time Astarion had to show up in the tavern during Alethaine’s shift. When he got there, Alethaine was crying and the fighter was threatening her with every awful thing a man can do to a young girl.
The fighter was deliciously scared when a vampire threw him against the wall and broke his dominant hand. Alethaine then told Astarion, no, she wasn’t crying, no she wasn’t afraid of that dumbass, she just got offended by all those mean words he told her.
But Astarion knew she was scared. She was scared like any girl her age after being threatened by a much larger and older man. The fighter begged Astarion to forgive him and he threw the moron at Alethaine’s legs, forcing him to beg her and, if she accepted his apologies, he would let him go.
Alethaine didn’t forgive him (maybe she was just paralyzed with shock and fear) and that night Astarion dined on his blood. Besides, if the man could approach someone that young and casually tell her he was going to assault her, it probably meant he’d already done it to someone else. Or would in the next village.
Astarion puts Alethaine to her bed. He bitterly smiles, noting that there is no plushie toy or doll anymore that she liked so much barely a few years ago – only books, candles, and animal skulls she collects in the woods.
He also bitterly remembers that, in the very recent past, he could easily help her change clothes into the night dress. But this thing is forever out of reach for him. So, he just puts her boots off and places them in front of the bed.
“Sleep well, princess,” he murmurs, leaving the room.
“Heavy-sleeper!” Tiriel jokes standing in the inner yard. She cuts the wood for the fireplace and Astarion adores the sight of her wielding the ax.
“She is,” Astarion looks away.
She is seventeen. She will soon leave their home. She will live for centuries – and her childhood will be such a minor part of her life that it makes Astarion upset. He cherished every single day since she was born: her first step, her first word, the first time she saw the snow, the first time she went somewhere alone (she was five and Tiriel sent her to pick up herbs from the healer). The first book she read by herself. The first letter she wrote.
And now, there are also the last things.
The last time she slept in her parents’ bed – he remembers how she took her pillow and left them to return to her room. The last time he bathed her – and she looked so innocent and cute in the wooden tub full of soapy water. The last time he read her a book – it was a novel about unicorns and fey. He expected she would bring another one to read the next day, but, instead, he found Alethaine reading by herself.
The last time he played dolls with her. The last time Tiriel brushed her long hair. The last time they played hide-and-seek in the woods. The last snowball fight.
All these things didn’t seem like the last when they did it, but they became one.
And Astarion knows that the fact he carried Alethaine to bed this day was a miracle. He will never do this ever again.
“Astarion, my love, what happened?” Tiriel’s fingers play with his hair. “Don’t tell me everything's right, I see you are upset!”
“Alethaine grew up too fast,” he admitted. “It’s not fair that elves live so long and yet their childhood is just slightly longer than humans.”
“I know, love. But she is an adult – and we need to see her like one, unless she wants to be occasionally treated like a child.”
Astarion places his head on Tiriel’s shoulder.
“I just… Damn… We both were children. Your childhood was hell and your mother was a bitch, but I don’t remember mine. You know, I just thought—” Astarion would sigh if he breathed. “There was a moment when I was carried to bed for the last time, too. And I can’t even remember who did it.”
Tiriel kisses his forehead — it’s a motherly gesture, not a lover’s one.
And then Astarion suddenly finds himself in Tiriel’s arms ‘bridal style’.
“Tiriel, put me back!”
“Why would I?” she laughs, holding him as if he were a young boy.
“I sometimes forget how strong you are,” he mutters, hoping no one sees them.
“It’s just your hollow elven bones. Though, I can lift human males up too!”
“I hope you don’t do this often because, otherwise, I will start getting possessive!”
“Or throw them in the mud after, don’t worry,” Tiriel kisses him, still holding Astarion as if he were weightless.
“Ok, then, now you need to carry me to bed,” he pouts.
“I will gladly do that. And then, you will tell me how you want me to love you.”
“I will think on the way to the bedroom, my love.”
They both burst out in laughter.
**
A drake the size of a cat sneezes and burns the dandelions. Then, it looks up at Alethaine with guilt as if apologizing.
“And can I ask where your owner is?” Alethaine murmurs.
The drake sneezes again. Aurix – gold in Draconic – demonstrates its tummy to the dhampir and stretches like a kitten.
Alethaine takes a few more steps and finds herself in a beautiful green field full of grass and flowers. The wind makes waves on its surface and Alethaine feels that the night is slowly approaching.
A red-haired elf lies in the grass. Her red hair is messy – she’s been hunting the whole day. Her bow lies at her side. The freckled face is a bit suntanned and her ears twitch a bit as their owner wanders in her reverie.
“Tiri,” Alethaine leans to her sixteen-year-old daughter. “Let’s go home, dad worries you got lost.”
Tiri mutters something incomprehensible. She is young and her reverie is deep. As someone with very few memories to re-live, Tiriel Goldernoot, the only daughter of King Elren and his “witch-queen” Alethaine, probably sees only glimpses of her past lives mixed with human-like dreams.
Besides, her grandmother and namesake was half-human. So, Tiri’s dreams are much more vivid.
“Tiri, get up. If you don't, I will carry you myself.”
“It’s a manipulation, mum.”
“It is, so I see you are awake. Get up.”
Tiri sits up, numb and dizzy after a reverie and she looks like someone beaten with a bag of sand. Alethaine helps her daughter to stand up and the drake immediately sits on her shoulder.
“Tired?” Alethaine asks.
“Ughm. I’ve been to Corellon’s grove.”
The biggest temple on the isle was ten miles away from Leuthilspar – the capital and Alethaine’s new home – no wonder the girl was so tired.
“I didn’t get inside, I just wanted to see the place from the hills.”
“Come on,” Alethaine takes her daughter’s hand and takes her home.
“Mum,” she tells her, and Alethaine feels her daughter’s embarrassment. “May I ask— Though no, don’t bother, it’s stupid.”
“You want me to carry you?”
Tiri blushes and nods. They are the same height, mother and daughter, but Tiri is far from being a dhampir, and Alethaine can carry much heavier things than a young High Elf ranger.
“But as long as no one sees us!” Tiri quickly adds.
“Don’t worry, no one will,” Alethaine promises and lifts her daughter up.
They walk like that for almost an hour. Tiri is exhausted and barely talks and Alethaine enjoys her loud heartbeat and deep breathing. When Tiri was born, Aletaine was suspiciously looking at the newborn baby. Was she a dhampir like her? Did the quote of vampiric blood affect her? Did Alethaine’s obsession with dark arts and demonic studies somehow hurt the child?
And then she remembers the realization. Tiri is as normal as possible. Just an elf. She wouldn’t grow fangs, she wouldn’t want blood, she wouldn’t accidentally reanimate a dead kitten and the druidic circles would never harm her. That moment Alethaine grabbed the newborn girl from her cradle, she came straight to Elren who was meditating in one of the many gardens of the elven castle and pushed Tiri into his arms. “Look at her!” Alethaine laughed as her half-asleep Thiramin was trying to realize what was going on. “She isn’t a creature of the night! The dark magic didn’t hurt her! She is normal! Like you!”
Alethaine catches the scent of other elves and puts Tiri on the ground. Now they walk through the streets like mother and daughter. Even though elves have different ideas of nobility and social structure than humans, Alethaine is still married to the king and she senses respect and fear from other elves (besides, they all know if it wasn't for her none of them would have made it alive after the demons had taken a hold on Faerun).
They needed the dark witch to deal with demons because druids don’t know what real darkness is.
“Hungry?” Alethaine asks.
“Like a vampire.”
“Interesting choice of words, Little Fire,'' Elren says sitting on the floor with yet another book about the ancient history of elves. Elren couldn’t care less about his status (“I’ve never asked to be crowned.”) and usually behaves as if he were still a ranger in the High Forest.
Tiri proceeds to tell her father how she marched through the hills, how Aurix almost ate a fey, and how she didn’t lose a single arrow while hunting birds. And then, she also saw portals to the Feywild but didn’t dare to approach them.
Alethaine walks up to the ceiling and stretches her arms – night is calling her. But she also feels the storm coming and decides she won’t leave the warm walls of the elven castle tonight.
When Tiri goes away to have dinner, Elren stands right below Alethaine. He is way taller than elves usually are and sometimes Alethaine feels very small in his presence.
His hair is almost as long as Alethaine’s, but it has a golden shade. His eyes are light-blue and he wears intricate ear-cuffs as his only jewelry.
Elren reaches to rub her ear and Alethaine smiles like a content cat.
They met eighteen years ago, almost yesterday considering they are both older than three centuries. Alethaine hates all these sentimental and “star-crossing” things but, to be honest, she fell for the ranger elf the moment he showed up in her witch hut asking her to help him deal with the demons in the High Wood. Probably, the funniest thing for Alethaine is that Elren is so lawful, good, brave, kind, and generous, and is so much to her father’s liking he threatens to turn inside out anyone who wants to harm Elren.
Alethaine smiles, remembering their first encounter – Elren was captured by Drows and held in their torture chambers for a few weeks. Astarion got him out from there and by the time Aletaine found their small camp in the Underdark her father and husband-to-be were sharing stories of their adventures and laughing at the dumb Drows who didn’t expect a vampire to ambush them.
Maybe Astarion saw Elren as a part of the world he once belonged to. Maybe, he just cared about him because Alethaine did. Maybe Astarion, despite his cynicism, still adores and respects people like Elren because they can do things he can’t.
Besides, Alethaine knows her father fell for her mother. And Elren has a lot in common with his long-deceased mother-in-law. The same heroism. The same faith in the best. The same belief that says you should always negotiate first, but there is often a greater evil you should fight.
“Elren, salen thiramin” Alethaine whispers.
“What?”
“Watch out.”
Alethaine relaxes her legs and falls from the ceiling right into her husband’s arms.
“You know, one day I won’t be able to catch you, my queen!”
“Nonsense, my king, I trust you with my half-dead heart.”
They burst into laughter and their voices echo through the sun-lit rooms.
--
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#astarion#baldur's gate 3#bg3 astarion#bg3#astarion romance#astarion bg3#baldurs gate 3#astarion x tav#alethaine ancunin#astarion being a dad#dadstarion#astarion fluff#spacebarbarian fics#astarion ancunin#astarion baldurs gate#astarion brainrot#astarion fanfic#tiriel of the sunset mountains#tiriel the barbarian#astarion x tiriel#oc tav: tiriel#dhampirs of the sword's coast#snippet of the future#elves
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Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 13
chapter 24:
1. sirius 🫱🏻🫲🏼 james being codependent af
2. ooo reg you’re so close babes. think about that just a little more. he realizes he cares about how james treats him and feels about him. reg just almost gets it
3. “He thinks the arena makes everyone a bad person while they're here. The only exception to the rule is James. He's the only person who could drag himself through all of this filth and cruelty and still hold onto his shine.”
4. ☺️ this “without hesitation” line is gonna bite us in the ass, isn’t it?
5. they’re talking about what their life without tragedy would have looked like. and damn. i’m not okay. their life would have been so beautiful
6. “"In that life, I do," Regulus whispers. "I let you do whatever you want, and when you want to dance, we dance."”
i’m NASTY sobbing over this line. like, snot coming out of my nose sobbing
7. “Regulus said James was his first love, didn't he? James would give anything to be his last.” 😀😀😀 holy shit that hurts
8. that nightmare was VILE
9. god, reg was practically sobbing to hold james’ hand. why is the world cruel to them??
10. 😐 i am unamused. another fucking spider
11. “"Have a go at me. Don't thank me or anything. It's always you're so stupid, James; it's never you looked so sexy and heroic while saving everyone from the murderous spider, James."” PFFFFFTTTT
12. it hurts to read it, but i also have always known that if reg wasn’t called into the hunger games, james would have died for someone else. like he said, either peter or vanity
13. god, peter’s story line and character fucking hurts. his family was mathias, irene, vanity, james, and even reg. this hurts like hell
14. NOOO PETER!!!!!
15. THEY MADE IT!!! THEY SURVIVED! THE GAMES ARE OVER!! THANK GOD!!
16. 😀😧 the rule change is REVOKED??? IM ABOUT TO LOSE MY FUCKING SHIT!! IF I WAS IN THIS UNIVERSE, ID PERSONALLY BE THROWING HANDS WITH SLUGHORN!! I BET SIRIUS HAS TO BE PHYSICALLY RESTRAINED!!
17. “"You're hesitating, love," James says softly.”
SCREEEEEEEEEEECHH
18. “"Axus got me on their way into the water. At least it was your dagger, I suppose," James says with a weary chuckle, his throat bobbing on a harsh swallow. His mouth quirks up a bit at the corner, gentle and lovely. "Maybe this makes me insane, but if I'm honest, I wish it had been you."”
oh no, make no mistake james. this very much does make you insane
19. and james is compared to the fucking sun going down again. i- i’m not okay
20. i need therapy for my trust issues. i trusted my ex best freind who outed me. i trusted my old roommate who i recently found out had a notes app list of everything she didn’t like about me this year. and most importantly, i trusted zar. i trusted that this fic wouldn’t do this to me.
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The thought just struck me
Do you think anyone but the teens ever knew that normal watched his mum die? Because I don't think they'd mention it personally,
She's there, she's fine, the whole family is back together, finally, and the kids are all still in shock from this huge horrific fight, killing a man, and then becoming god for a second
So it's forgotten in the moment
And later they each remember it, but individually don't bring it up for whatever reason, link doesn't have the voice for it, Taylor doesnt think to mention it, scary is having a hard enough time bringing herself to tell her parents anything, let alone something she views as indirectly her fault (letting willy out in the first place)
And normal? Normal can't bring himself to ruin the good vibe in his family, his granddad is here, his parents are there, completely fine, uncle lark is doing better and getting on with grandpa Henry, hero is even spending time with him
How can he tell someone he watched willy murder the woman standing there in front of him, laughing at something lark said while he's washing up
Maybe hero finds out first, months later, maybe years, hidden under a duvet in the dead of night, they do this sometimes, when hero can't sleep thinking about her almost destiny, and normal can't sleep because of his destiny that was
And he whispers to her, very quietly, that sometimes he forgets that he'd brought mum back when he was god, some days he walks down stairs and instead of his mother eating breakfast or drinking coffee all he can see is the look on her face the moment she exploded into dust, sometimes he's not sure shes really their mother but is more like the build-a-bear hermie2, who is definitely a real person sure, but hes too similar to normals dead husband while too different at the same time
Or maybe it's scary who says it first
In one of the many midnight snack meetings she has with Terry Jr nowadays, they never talk much, usually just absentmindedly watch some TV while neither can sleep because of willy
She says that she feels guilty for a lot of things, and she knows she's not supposed to because willy manipulated her, but even when she can forgive herself for the active participation in tony pepperonis murder, she hasn't been able to forgive herself for causing Rebecca's death, and she's not sure she ever will
I love how will Campos can go an name a character Normal as if I'm ever going to have a normal thought about that boy ever also him and Hermie2 did date for a bit but had to break up because normal kept waking up screaming thinking he was back holding Hermies lifeless corpse byyyeeeeeeeeeeeedeeeeeeeeeeeee
HI SORRY I NEVER ANSWERED YHIS OOPSIES
and yea i think norm prob did not talk much abt what happened given that bec is still alive, and it's just kind of? brushed over at first?
i think he maybe doesn't even Realize it's still affecting him at first but every time he sees his mom laugh it makes him feel kind of sick. his fight-or-flight activates when they're having family time and she's not there, and at first he thinks it's just because he still isn't getting along with sparrow that well. and then one day he has a nightmare, maybe, or a panic attack, or Something. and it just clicks. he watched her die. she shouldn't be here, but she is, and so all of the love and grief for her can't even come out. it's all stuck in those few moments where she was gone, and so is normal, and so he can't quite believe that she's real unless he can actually see/hear her (and even then, sometimes it's hard)
BUT i do wonder if sparrow knows, given that norm chose to use the 'wish' on the throne to bring back her (&the rest of the ppl willy killed). and i think they worry abt it a lot, esp having gone thru the Same Thing (twice, if you count lark in oakvale) but norm obviously doesnt want to talk to them so they don't even know if they should try.. uaugh.
also norm and hero :(( i adore them i am cradling them so gently. The siblings ever.
+ ALSOOO scary . see this is extra crazy b/c obviously she is in a very similar situation as well with terry jr.. norm wanting to talk to scary b/c maybe she'll Get It but also being so worried that scary is going to blame herself even more if he opens up abt it.. what if i Died
+will campos wants me specifically dead i'm gonna GET him
#dndads#dndads s2 spoilers#normal oak#sparrow oak#scary marlowe#help girl now i need scary and norm comforting each other about their 'technically dead but also not' parents.. hmmm#we will see how much i want to write later LOL
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Rêve Info!!!
hi so i’m finally talking about my itty baby lol
meet rêve, the guardian of positivity! she’s dream’s reincarnation after his death. she lives with ink, her pet finity, and her brother, nuit. she rules a relatively happy life and she’s learning as much as she can about the multiverse.
she doesn’t remember much about her origins. her pa says she and nuit were nothing more than squeaky balls of fire when he first found them in a distant AU and that he was the one to create their bodies. of course, she has dream’s spirit, but she’s not him, as her brother isn’t nightmare. for reasons she can only guess however, a lot of people seem to think they are the same, and often times they blame them for issues the two brothers may have caused. it sucks, sure, but the most the two can do is apologize.
she’s grown used to it, but it is a bit of a bother. usually she just escapes the situation, as fighting isn’t her favorite thing to do. it’s what dream resorted to, and she’s not him, right?
at home, she enjoys doodling [taken from her dad!] and making food. she has a pet, which her brother hates, but she loves and cares for. she’s outspoken and loves hanging out with her family, though shy with new people. however, she’s a sweetheart when she warms up to them.
fun facts:
both her and her brother know four languages: english, spanish, french, and sign language!
she’s transfem! she came out at 14 and was supported + allowed to transition immediately [she/they for her please]
rêve is autistic and wears earmuffs when in public to avoid overstimulation with noise. she has level 1 support needs.
she cooks more than she bakes!
she’s vegetarian ✨
the little golden touches on her bones are a result of her positivity staining the paint used to create her body.
dream [shattered] was romantically involved with ink before he died, but rêve doesn’t know this.
speaking of, she’s not a ship child! she’s her own kid and was adopted by ink after he found her and nuit.
she’s definitely a people pleaser and suffers from an anxiety disorder.
top and aster are her and her brother’s grandfathers!!!
here’s her reference sheet!!
friendly reminder, rêve is from the au by me and @denieatsart
rêve is my character!!
#nash’s dibujos#nashdoesstuff#utmv stuffs!!#rêve#utmv oc#utmv#info posts#oc info posts#nash’s shenanigans#ill tag this more later this post is two days overdue
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What if...?
A silly way of Solomon's devotion. Where was this at the start of the game? I'm not so sure. Although, I'd love to expound on this idea — atleast, for the purposes of a trope I come to love. Let's call this: "Tell me please, why can't I?"
♡.. Imagine a time where it began as the other way around: MC pining after Solomon. Had the human exchange student crave for human interaction in the literal incarnate of Hell? Go figured, it's in their nature. Of course they'd cling to him. Who else was the safest option?
♡.. Many moments pass and MC connects to Solomon like a missing thread. MC is his constant reminder of his lingering humanity, no matter how far gone he thought he was. Seeing the MC talk more about the Human realm: friends, family, places and even the most mundane things like ignoring stupid injuries, or multitasking on errands— it's almost nostalgic despite the many years the sorcerer had lived.
♡.. When MC finally builds up the courage to finally confess to Solomon, he was... shocked? Humanity was an odd topic; anthropology explaining the details of this race to a T. Solomon at this time thought that MC might as well have fallen for the demons. Like the toy they all were.
♡.. And what did he say? What did he say that determined the course of their relationship?
— "It'll pass."
♡.. He had an advantage. He was supposed to be able to become the first to MC's heart — the advantage of both being human. He and MC getting together causes the least amount of issues, but what did he do? He let them be. Let them bond with the brothers. With the others.
♡.. He only viewed them as a pawn in this endless game of life.
♡.. After that as some time came by, their relationship seemed to have continued on as normal. One might say that he and the MC had developed a friendship of sorts. This bond strengthened further when he sees them alone at the school dance — "shall we lonely singles dance together?"
♡.. That's how it should've stayed. His heart shouldn't have had a mind of his own. At night, he couldn't help but recall all their moments spent together. Solomon could no longer count the days he imagined their smile, their laughter, all that made them human...
♡.. As soon as he felt that spark — like a truck ran over him in his deepest nightmares, he realized: "oh fuck..." the platinum blonde muttered in cold sweat, panting as his mind continues to wander. He's awake. He is awake. But is he? Why is it that he's stuck in this dream?
♡.. Like a demon, Solomon felt tempted. Although, isn't that just human nature? — "what have you done to me?"
♡.. Now he knew how MC felt. And even if they was an attempt at the confession, MC's options were limited.
— "I love you like no other. Please, I... I don't want to lose you."
♡.. So they picked the least broken of the bunch.
— "I'll learn how to love you again."
♡.. It was a sentence of bliss, but to the sorcerer, he lost. Which is why when they were given the opportunity to go to the past, Solomon got to spend every moment with MC.
Every moment to enter their heart again.
To quote: "The whisper of love in the morning. Do you hear it? It's beating for you loudly."
Ah yes Solomon, aka mister "shady sorcerer who can't cook" but also "I lost my chance and now I'm taking it again." Inspire by the "fell first, didn't fell" and "fell later, fell harder" dynamic. I was inspired by how domestic Solomon acts towards MC in NB — like they were a married couple. As much as I love the demon brothers, this one got my heart... Again, just a "what if," takes inspiration from canon but I tend to deviate a LOT if that makes sense ;v;
Anyhow, have a nice day~! Tell me what you think of this scenario? Let me know your thoughts! 🫶
#obey me shall we date#obey me nightbringer#obey me#obey me!#obey me solomon#canon x reader#solomon x reader#solomon x mc#obey me solomon x reader#what if#ideas#fanfic ideas#fell first fell harder#he's so devoted in the game PLEASE#to win them over#fluff? angst??? a guilty pleasure
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Shouta Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada x PLATONIC KID!!
I crave comfort so here
Tw : Ed /sh
Not many people were aware of your relationship with your homeroom teacher and English teacher known as Mr. Aizawa and his loud husband Mic but they were your dad's. In the beginning of the year they both made it clear no special treatment would be given and you appreciated it a lot.
This also came with its ups and downs trying to fight the urge to hug you dad in front of class after villain attacks ect, as much as they'd both fight it they also struggled to accessively check on you when you all moved to dorms.
Having grown up always close to him after they adopted you from a abusive home. had its drags on you all You weren't entirely sure when this overwhelming feeling of despair started but it felt so shitty, you had no reason to feel this way you had a good life. Loving dads, a nice school and a few friends you hold dear to you. It was so long ago why was this still bothering you.
You remembered a conversation you had with your dad, Mic recalling how Aizawa was struggling with mental health and how it wasn't an effect of things around him but rather his brain chemistry. You looked at your phone debating on calling your family group chat to ask them for help but managed to talk yourself out of it resorting to crying on your closet floor.
After a few minutes of crying you managed to pull yourself together grabbing some clothes and deciding this was all in your head and you had no reason to feel so shitty. Heading out your room you feel a tap on your shoulder "it's past curfew kid" you turn around to see you father Hizashi looking around you you look back at him eyes still puffy "Sorry dad, just needed a shower" you say attempting to walk away when you feel a hand in you wrist "were you crying little listener?" You flinch at the childhood nickname your dad had given you "No, sorry just tired" you say pulling away "either your high or you were crying which one is it kid" He says pointing to your eyes "its nothing dad please just let me shower"
You pull away walking away leaving your dad in the hall alone. You took a long shower, trying to scrub off the memories of your past home. You get out the shower and go back to your dorm laying down on the floor ignoring the fact your bed was no more than 3 feet away. You look at your phone to see Aizawa texted you
You okay kiddo?
Yeah sorry for worrying y'all just a bad day
Are you sure
Yeah
If you say so, me and Hizashi are here if you need us. Now go to bed it's late
The conversation was short and to the point but you still felt the need to want to call him and tell him these awful feelings you were having.
A few days passed when you got an email from an all too familiar name, it was your biological mom. The very same woman who had given you physical and mental problems along with nonstop nightmares for 2 years. You had changed everything phone number homes socal midea accounts anything that she could you to find you. Yet her name is in your inbox with a paragraph calling you names and threatening you. Everything felt so out of control like nothing you did to get away from her was enough. But she knew now, she knew what school you went to. 1-A had been on TV after all, you should have known it was only a matter of time. You looked at your phone blankly feeling your body shake and tears fall from your face. You reached for your pocket knife making a cut on your thigh it felt good like you finally had control over how you felt like you had control over something when everything around you was so chaotic. This was bad you knew that but it felt too good to want to care.
Overtime the threatening emails from your mother piled up only feeding the fear she'd find you and harm you, in turn causing more scars to be formed on your legs. You dads had quickly talked notice to you change in dimanar and talked it over amongst themselves and tried to reach out to you but it was all brushed off as a bad week of a bad day.
This began to escalate more than your lack of interest in food came about you seemed so tired too tired to even eat. This is where they drew the line. No kid of theirs would be passing out in training. They just couldn't figure out how to talk to you about this without you shutting down and shutting them out.
Monday morning training came about and you felt exhausted like your whole body was about to give out. This was only further proven when you passed out before training with Todoroki without him even activating either of his quirks. Both Hizashi and Aizawa rushed to your side as another student ran to get recovery girl. You woke up in the nurses office with both your dad's next to you looking worried out their minds.
"Recovery girl said you'd be fine.. as long as you ate and drank probably." There was a silence filled with worry and a bit of anger
"I'm sorry dad-" you were cut off by Hizashi hugging you, "please don't scare me like that kid" he said holding you as if you were gonna disappear. "Talk to us if you need to kiddo. You know we'll listen. "
You hugged him back going back to your dorm early as you were excused from all classes for the day, sitting on your floor you checked your phone to see another email this time from your biological father. Your mom texting you was one thing you knew in some way she didn't have the gut to actually hurt you but your dad, he'd hunt you down and kill you, metaphorically and literally. You felt a wave of fear washing over you and you sobbed standing up hands on your head pacing around your room crying and shaking. You reach for your knife once more sliding down the wall making a cut in an almost fully healed scar feeling that feeling of control comes back. You made a few more before stopping, taking a deep breath grabbing your first aid kit sitting in the same spot of the floor. Yeah you felt stupid but not stupid enough to not clean this kind of thing. As you were cleaning up you heard a knock at your door
"Kid? It's us can we talk?"
Aizawa says still waiting at the door "Y-yeah give me a minute please!!" You shout rushing to put the first aid kit away and some sweatpants and throw your knife under the bed you wipe your face, and open the door
"Kid are you okay you look a little.. worse than earlier "
"yeah I'm fine just not in a great mood" you said looking at your phone placed in the far end of the bed. They both came Into your room and sat on your bed and attempted to talk to you about what had been bothering you. The conversation went in circles before you placed your head in Aizawa's lap and your legs. Your dad Hizashi standing at the foot of your bed about to leave seeing as it seemed to have been handled was stopped by a blood stain on the floor.
"Shouta, I think we should stay till she wakes up"
"hm. I mean I'm not against it but why ?"
He points at the blood spot on the floor and Shoutas eyes widen.
"they are knocked out right now so can you look for whatever is being used ?"
He nods looking around your room eyes landing on a pocked knife shining under your bed.
"here, I'll put it in our room" he says showing Shouta before closing it and placing it in his pocket, as he was above to leave his stopped by the light of your phone along with a name he recognized followed by a scowl.
"Shouta I'm gonna check their phone for something"
He gives Hizashi a confused look but unable to move because of your sleeping form he allows him to do so, you trusted them enough to let them know your passwords but they had never not trusted you enough to go through your phone. He opens the email, reading it the existing and seeing y'all the others. He made a face of pure disgust and walked toward Shouta showing him the inbox along with one of the emails it had.
Both had decided to stay in your room till morning planning in talking to you about this night of rather unfortunate events. But this was cut short by the feeling of you hyperventilating in Shoutas lap. Hizashi gently shakes him awake and they both attempt to comfort you untimatly failing as you wake you shaking tears forming in your eyes. An all too familiar scene for your dad's to witness.
"it's okay kid, your okay" Hizashi whispered patting your head as Aizawa rubbed your shoulder.
"sorry i-"
"No apologies. We know everything so there's no need to hide anything from us anymore"
Shouta says looking up at his husband
"you could have really hurt yourself kid"
"i know I just - " you were cut off my a knot in your throat as you scrambled to find the words "everything feels so out of control and I can control this you know?" Shouta nooding in agreement.
"why did you come to is kiddo?
"i- I didn't want you to worry you. You guys had enough going on.."
You said your voice is still shaking between sobs.
"you'd never be a bother to us. It's our job as you parents to check on you and worry for you"
You all had a long talk about possible coping strategies and ways to communicate you wanted to talk about something without feeling bothersome. A few relapses were bound to happen and they both knew this but did everything they could to ensure it didn't. Even if it meant letting the whole class know you were their kid so you could go in the teachers wing of the dorms. You began slowly getting better with set backs here and there, but by setting up and new email and talking more about what your depression episodes felt like, both your dad were able to help you through it
Yes it's messy I wrote 75% of this in one go and the other half after my shower. And it's like 12:58am
Requests are open but slow
Please reach out if you need to to!!
#aizawa shouta#yamada hizashi#bnha x reader#mha x reader#fanfiction#mha x reader comfort#x reader#bnha comfort#comfort#gender neutral reader#spotify#dadzawa#platonic#aizawa x you#aizawa x reader#aizawa shōta#aizawa x hizashi#mha hizashi#bnha hizashi#hizashi x reader#present mic#sh comfort#tw s3lf harm#tw self destructive behavior#tw eating issues#tw ed implied
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It's no secret that Eddie hates his little mouse's (Carver!Reader) family, they treat her like the black sheep and make her feel less and he can't have that.
Ever since the explosion at dinner that she dropped out of Suffolk, Eddie's been keeping her at his place.
She's calmest there, not as nervous, less nightmares, she's not rocking back and forth as much. She's happier here, in his shitty little trailer versus her McMansion on Loch Nora, her gilded cage.
She buries her face in Eddie's sheets and clothes, it calms her. She does him and Wayne's laundry and it smells like flowers, cooks them meals she learned from her maid Loretta, and from her fancy home economics class at boarding school she learned from the French teacher there.
She never wants to leave but thinks it's all temporary for Eddie. But it couldn't be more further from the truth.
He had her quit her job at the Chanel counter at L.S. Ayres. He stopped dealing to get a job at mechanic shop so he could take care of her, he told her she should focus more on her writing and art she loves, and she's easily stressed so this takes away a lot of it. She ends up spending the day making the trailer spotless and cooking, as well as painting, writing, drawing, and creating things for DnD night. Even sews costumes for everyone.
She's really happy and a lot less stressed.
Eddie was saving for a ring, he was going to marry her he was going to make her a Munson, and a mother.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie fanfic#st4#eddie munson headcanons#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x carver!reader
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Unknowingly A Meta AU? owo ? Tim with a Dream Manipulation power he doesn't know he has? Because it can effect HIS dreams. And no one ever mentions it.
His parents? Wearing all sorts of gifts and old jewelry from various sites. They are gucci. Completely untouchable. So the few times Baby Tim DOES show up in there dreams as a kid, when they are in house, they write off as "weird but pleasant".
After all? Who doesn't like to dream about playing with your kid? Going to a fantastical theme park or something? Having a family picnic? It's JUST a nice dream, right?
But! Not everyone has such protections.
And Baby Tim? Gets fixated. Curious. Falls asleep wanting to KNOW. Perhaps, thinking about one member of the Wayne family or another. And since his range is growing? Wayne Manor is juuuuust close enough. Barely, at first. Then easily.
And it's innocent at first. Of course it is. He's just a small child, full of questions. Was Mr. Batman like him as a child? Where did Mr. Pennyworth come from? What was living in the circus like? And so? They dream.
Bruce, playing with a child his age, on the lawn as his parents watch on fondly. Alfred, back too his youth, full of mischief as he runs the streets of his little English town along side friends long dead. Made young once more. Dick, laughing, underfoot, as he and his new friend run roughshod all across the setup site. His parents fond but exasperated.
Such meaningful dreams.
Private, though.
No need to mention them. Or realize the whole household is getting such dreams all at the same time.
And the dreams persist. Tim forever having questions. Or just wondering. Not thinking much on WHY he seems to have such vivid dreams. He's always had them. Surely everyone does. Storybooks certainly seem to suggest that.
Dick leaves. Jason comes.
Dick notices he's started having... nightmares. Chaotic, dark, brooding dreams. Of failure and lose. He doesn't connect things... yet.
Jason doesn't fuckin TRUST these happy clappy, golden sunshine n puppies dreams. The fuck is this? The fuck are YOU? Tim doesn't see a reason to lie. It's just a dream, right?
Uh huh.
Riiiight. Say, Timbits, you ever been tested for that Meta gene thingy? Asks Jason, who has clocked what's happening here, basically night one.
No, why? Asks the clueless neighbor kid.
Before Jason can think of a... polite...ish... way to call him thick and his parents dense as bricks, he wakes up. Gets to spend the whole day looking into the Drake's. Finds out the kid is basicly isolated in that great big house of his. Decides he's... NOT gonna be saying anything.
Welcome to dream land, you little weirdo. Just don't scramble his brains or touch stuff he says not too.
Then? Dick visits. Tim is thrilled. And Dick? Gets his first GOOD dream in weeks. No "what if's", no haunting seconds too late, just? Good moments. Everything languid and lit by golden light. Untouchable.
Perfect.
Him and Kori, between missions, exploring each other. Everything pleasure and light. Grinding. Gasping. Groaning in pleasure as they found just the right angle, sweat catching the light like diamonds. She was beautiful. HE never felt more desirable.
But something niggles in his brain. A sense of being watched, that hadn't been there then. Fascinated little eyes. Blue. Not Jason. Poorly hidden in the corner of the room. He... he should be alarmed. Focus. This isn't for little eyes. Should kick him out. But Kori's here. And everything is soft and so GOOD. He keeps getting lost in that instead.
Is aware, so aware, of little eyes that trail his body like eager hands.
It shouldn't make everything better.
But it does.
And NOW? Now Tim has NEW questions. As puberty closes in fast and without mercy.
And Bruce's dreams certainly have answers. His every desire and fantasy laid bare. Past loves, current lovers, fantasies about coworkers. Being watched. A curiosity. An amusement, perhaps? His brain struggles to pull free of the pleasure and focus.
But eventually, his iron will allows it. He HAS trained for this, after all.
He gets the jump on the... imp? Fae? Youthful looking creature. But touching them just pulls him back under. So he kisses them instead. Strips them. Hands finding places that make them squirm. He's not sure HOW he finds himself fucking them, but he never wants to stop.
And after that? Neither does Tim. He'd never imagined THAT was an option! It felt AMAZING. Which leads to all manner of wet dreams. For every Heroic guest Bruce has. During the day? Prim and proper, everything above board. But in SLEEP? They are pounding their new brother/son incoherent.
Just? Imagine them trying to trigger wet dreams? Trying to get attention in the evenings, so he'll think about THEM before bed. Pouting when their dreams were pleasant nothing instead of Tim Time. The guilty PANIC of guests who TOTALLY boned Timmy drooling and fucked stupid in the Dream Space, now having to sit across Batman, and pretend they didn't do that. Not realizing he totally let them.
Can't get caught, if it's not physical! Dream Sex!
-🐼🐼🐼
and they're completely guilt free because its a dream😌😌😌
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:')
#obi wan kenobi#anakin skywalker#leia organa#obi wan#star wars#starwarsedit#swedit#obiwanedit#revenge of the sith#kenobi show#obi wan kenobi spoilers#obi-wan kenobi#kenobi spoilers#kenobi show spoilers#my edits#stars war#TEARS ARE STREAMING DOWN MY FACE#HE LOVES THIS NIGHTMARE FAMILY SO SO MUCH!!!!!#2nd gif was not cooperating with me color wise i hope it still looks ok#also please do not tag this as ob*k*n
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1 : Soap never had any idea that woman wanted him carnally, he's not the most observant on that front (he never noticed Ghost flirting with him and thought his love was one-sided for the longest time, but tbf Ghost was also very discreet about it)
2 : He sewed the hat, eyepatch and hook himself, because he's the best uncle and then got distracted as he was wrapping it up, so now he's watching a tutorial on youtube about how to build a voice box. Honestly how hard could it be, he builds explosive devices as a hobby (listen, Price doesn't have to know)
3 : He is out to his family, but doesn't want his mum to know he has a boyfriend because he knows she'll insist on meeting him and welcoming him to the family and making a big deal out of this, and he knows that Ghost isn't ready for that.
4 : Christmas is obviously a very hard time for Ghost, but he is very very in love with Soap and some days still can't believe that it's mutual, but then his Johnny does something like that and his head gets quieter while he's melting a bit.
5 : For the people that didn't see my other post : the bird is a Caique parrot, and they're supposedly very energetic, a bit loud, medium sized, unintelligible, very friendly to what they consider their family, adventurous and danger prone, with an explosive personality and a hate of boredom, so basically the adhd bird.
#cod mw2#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#soapghost#ghostsoap#ghost is hard edges and sharp knives but simon is babygirl#i tried my best to make soap's sister look as much like soap as possible#as someone whose siblings look nothing like them i find it hilarious i have no idea why i swear i have the weirdest sense of humour#hc that simon's very first wait no second actually bc i feel like the first special interest for every child with autism is dinosaurs#but wait plot twist birds are dinosaurs so still hc that simon's first (or second if you want) special interest was birds#and he still loves them very much and both soap and his sister have adhd and his sister has a reoccurring hyperfixation on birds#and soap thinks ghost and his sister could get along very easily and is waiting very impatiently for the day ghost is ready and he can#introduce him to his family#but also ghost is very wary of families and especially since there's a young child because he's scared that he'll bring them death like he#feels he did to his own family#i initially wanted to colour it but then i wondered why my brain was working against me and very quickly decided that colouring all that#would be a nightmare and that i already hate colouring so why would i want to torture myself#anyway pls be nice with me i've given all i had to make this lmao
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there’s something so personal about the scene in fantasy high s1e7 where gorgug calls himself stupid & fabian, who up to that point had basically entirely been acting like the bad kids (especially gorgug) were beneath him & had also been the one calling ragh stupid two lines ago, instantly says “okay, do not put yourself down like that. don’t you dare do that to yourself.” like it was obvious he liked the bad kids at that point but the instinct to protect his friends manifesting as an immediate strong refusal of gorgug’s self-deprecating talk kills me. that boy loves his friends so bad oh my god i feel sick.
#fabian seacaster#fantasy high#gorgug thistlespring#these two specifically are so dear to me#top 5 most underrated fh dynamic the girls that get it get it#acts of service (gorgug) meets words of affirmation (fabian)#spring break i believe in you. i hand you an orange. you never hug me / shut up.#THE TENDERNESSSS#it’s about gorgug fixing the hangman & fabian having no idea how to repay him other than saying ‘i’m gonna buy you an orange.’#when fabian a year ago had an insecurity about buying other people things bc he thought they’d just use him for that.#it’s about gorgug’s tin flower that’s tattooed on his arm being both symbolic of his roots & deeply tied to his relationship with fabian#it’s about fabian being the reason gorgug was in that fateful detention in the first place.#& gorgug being the first person to see fabian again in the nightmare forest.#all the bad kids are tied by destiny but god. fabian & gorgug you are so tied by destiny.#anyways i will not lie this far into my tags i expect nothing but in another universe they would be the slow burn of all time. to me.#it is so subtle & casual but there is so much love there it makes me kinda crazy.#but either way my beloveds who i think have helped bring out the best parts of one another but who r also both soooo lame (affectionate).#also i think it’d be funny if a) gorgug was the final bad kid to join the giant family tree via dating fabian#and b) telemaine was eventually gorgug’s grandather in law. can u imagine.#thistlecaster#fabigug#whichever one it is idk idc#they r just so gentle :(#UPDATE sorry i stopped right when this happened to write this whole post & literally like 5 minutes later gorgug has that idea to look at-#zayne’s pearl & his hunch isn’t right but fabian IMMEDIATELY jumps back in with ‘it’s moments like these that prove you’re smart’ GODSDD#when the fabian & gorgug dynamic hits it truly hits. besties/bfs ever i can’t decide they r simply so great
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