#SO DID YOUR DAUGHTERS! SO DID YOUR GRANDDAUGHTERS! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bratzforchris · 2 months

Note

could you do one where chris and reader bring their daughter home from the hospital after she's just born? i love your writings!!!!

My Girl, C. Sturniolo

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Summary: In which bringing your and Chris's first baby home from the hospital results in a core memory<3

Pairing: Chris x feminine reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of a difficult labor and its effects (not graphic!), young parents

Word Count: 974

A/N: Y'all my baby fever has been so bad lately (I'm 19 and single 🤡) and dad!Chris did NOT help. Thank you for the request and you cuties enjoy a fluffy Chris fic<33

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Chris gently lifted the enormous, pink carseat out of the back of the car, hoisting it onto his arm. He was beyond exhausted from the past three days. Granted, all he had ever wanted in life was to be a father, especially when you would be the mother. And so, he picked up the car seat with renewed energy, coming around the side of the car and opening up your door.

“You good, ma?” he asked you, protective instincts kicking in as he watched you struggle to unbuckle your seat and step out of the car.

“I just had a baby, dumbass. My hips are killing me and I’m wearing a diaper. What do you think the answer is?”

Between a long labor, the hustle and bustle of the hospital, and the typical aches and pains that came post-birth, you were a bit snappy after the events of the past three days. Nevertheless though, you planted a kiss on Chris’s cheek, eliciting a grin from your husband.

“Glad to see the pregnancy didn’t take that fiery attitude I love so much.” Chris smiled, wrapping his arm around you to support you as you slowly walked with one hand and carrying the carseat that held your sleeping daughter in the other.

You two slowly began the trek up your front steps, with Chris supporting you the whole way. But before you could open the front door, it was flung open for you, revealing Nick and Matt. They stepped out quickly, eager to get a glimpse of their new niece. They exchanged squeals over how cute your baby girl was until Chris finally shoved them off, protective over his little family.

“Can we get inside first?” he asked, rolling his eyes then smiling at you affectionately.

The brothers allowed you to step inside the house, where both your and Chris’s parents were waiting, slightly more polite than his brothers. You quickly sat down on the couch with the help of your husband, winded from the short walk up the driveway. Chris quickly placed your daughter in your arms and sat beside you with a proud smile as everyone else gathered around on your large couch and on the rug.

“So, have you two decided on a name?” Your mother asked excitedly, her eyes shining with joy.

“We have,” You and Chris looked at each other and smiled as your daughter yawned in your arms, smacking her little lips. “Charlotte Marie Sturniolo.” You said in unison.

Just as you spoke, Charlotte opened her eyes and yawned, letting out a tiny coo. Luckily, your families had been very respectful of your and Chris’s boundaries about holding her, especially since flu season was currently rampant. That didn’t deter anyone from letting out noises of affection at their new daughter, niece, and granddaughter, though. In your comical families, however, cute moments didn’t last long, which led to Nick piping up.

“Can you say Lady Gaga?” he asked. “La-dy Ga-ga.”

Chris rolled his eyes, playfully kicking his brother, which received a giggle from you. “She’s a newborn.”

“I’m raising her to have culture.” Nick shrugged, flipping his hair across his forehead.

As everyone continued to talk, your husband noted how you (and Charlotte) had become more quiet, snuggling into his side. He knew the whole birthing process had been extremely difficult on you, and selfishly, he really wanted some alone time with his little family.

“Should we go upstairs?” he asked you, whispering in your ear and brushing a strand of hair away from your cheek.

You nodded softly, already on the verge of falling asleep as you felt your infant daughter snuggle into you. “Yes please.” You whispered back.

“Well, we would love to keep chatting, but duty calls,” Chris helped you stand up, adjusting Charlotte so she could still cuddle onto your chest. “My girls need me.”

By the time you two had made it upstairs, you were exhausted, but could still hear the talking of your family below, murmuring softly about what great parents you two already were. Granted, it had only been a few days, but in your opinion, you both already were. Despite being on the younger side, you and Chris both loved your daughter with your whole heart, and that was what you wanted the most.

“Thanks for what you did back there,” You yawned as Chris tucked you into bed after placing Charlotte, who was fast asleep, in her crib. “I’m really tired.”

“I could tell,” Your husband bustled around the room, straightening things up to lessen the load on your plate. “You’re so strong, baby.”

You were almost asleep, but you could sense that Chris had stopped moving, which with your husband, meant he was up to something. “Chris? Baby, what are you doing?”

You peeked open your eyes, only for your heart to practically burst. Chris had taken his shirt off and removed your daughter’s onesie, allowing her to cuddle skin-to-skin on his chest. He smiled over at you as she yawned, fisting his skin.

“Look!” he whisper-shouted with the biggest smile on his face. “We’re cuddling!”

You smiled, enjoying the scene before you. “She looks so cozy.”

Chris began to sway and dance softly, singing ‘My Girl’ by The Temptations quietly. “My baby girl. God, I love you so much. You and your mommy are my rock, honey.”

You could hear the happy tears in your husband’s voice as he sang to Charlotte, and that was the moment you knew that you had made the right choice for the father of your children. Chris had been nothing but supportive throughout your whole pregnancy and labor, and it was clear he was carrying that energy into fatherhood as well. You took a mental snapshot, filing away this moment for later because you knew this would always be one you came back to.

tags ♡: @aemrsy @idek3000hi @melguilbert @oobleoob

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #fanfic #ao3 fanfic

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ferrstappen · 9 months

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Dad Lando has my whole heart 😭😭😭 could you write something of the drivers first time meeting Amelia? Or her fist time in the paddock?.. anything I just love dad Lando and your writing style 🧡

meet & greet l dad!Lando Norris x reader

The existence of baby Amalia Norris, no middle name just like her dad, was a well known secret, but a secret nonetheless.

There were never rumors about you being pregnant, but when the season started, mechanics and staff of every team, tv channel, you name it, started talking about Lando Norris and how he supposedly had a baby with his girlfriend.

Norris? No way, he's still a child himself

There's no way, the girlfriend would have to raise two babies and she looks smarter than that.

McLaren team members, especially those closer to Lando, were often asked about it by other people, but they were warned by the high commands to keep it private until Lando and you wanted to confirm it. Even if Adam Norris was often gushing about his youngest granddaughter and how she smiled just for him.

Max Verstappen once unwired himself after a reporter asked him about it. Carlos once pretended he didn't hear and the next time he just asked for another question.

The closest people on the grid already met her, she was six months old already and was completely used to the presence of uncle Max, uncle Carlos, uncle Oscar and uncle Danny, others had seen Amalia once or twice, but didn't really have the honorary uncle title.

There were so many talks between you and Lando, him being the most reticent to bringing your daughter to the paddock, not only because of the noises and movements, but someone was going to get a picture eventually, her face being everywhere, on stranger’s camera rolls and Instagram accounts.

"Why don't we make an announcement on our terms, then?"

Lando understood your idea, he really did, but he didn't owe anything to anyone. Yes, in the early months of your relationship he'd be posting stories and pictures to his .jpg account, but he never openly talked about you, your name and relationship was one of the few prohibited subjects for reporters and his PR team made sure everyone knew it.

But, this time was different because this was his daughter, and she was too precious, too beautiful for people to just look at her perfectly shaped face, beautifully colored eyes, adorably cute pout, even when she was drooling from giggling too much or sleeping to deeply.

But it was Silverstone, this wasn’t an ordinary occasion or an ordinary race, it was his home race and this time both you and him knew it was the right time to bring her to the paddock, just for the race day and trying to keep her out of the public’s eyes and constant cameras following his every step.

The night before you were searching her closet to find the perfect outfit for the ever changing English weather. Lando was holding Amalia on his arms, giggling along her as she played with the messy curls on top of his head.

“What do you want to wear for your first race, pretty girl?” Lando asked his daughter who just stared at him and enjoyed the rocking motion of his arms.

A white dress with orange daisies seemed like the perfect option, with one of her daddy’s papaya bucket hats made just for her. It was the perfect outfit for what was going to be a very memorable day.

And of course it was.

At first, fans and press were surprised Lando didn’t arrive on the track with his McLaren, instead his dad was driving a black Mercedes, polarized windows that only caught a glimpse of you through the front glass. Lando made sure everything was fine with the credentials before exiting the car, drawing the attention to himself at the same time Adam prepared the baby stroller and you placed Amalia, laughing at Lando’s dad who refused to give you the stroller.

You shyly waved your hand to the people saying your name, greeting some known faces before finally reaching the McLaren garage, where Zak was the first one to reach Adam and carefully lifting the visor and greeting Amalia who instantly recognized him.

She soon started crying, demanding to be picked up and instantly stopping when she noticed people were staring at her in awe, new faces smiling at her and waving, but the biggest smiled appeared when she noticed her papa, wearing a matching hat and taking her from your arms.

That’s how people got to meet baby Amalia Norris, who sported the same mischievous glint on her eyes, and loudly giggled when uncle Carlos arrived to the papaya garage. He was too patient with her, letting the baby play with his fingers, grab his Ferrari hat, wrap her fists on his hair and Carlos just kept talking as if his niece wasn’t tugging on his hair.

It was all a blur when Lando got to the parc fermé, parking on the big number one place, almost falling from the car before jumping into the crowd of papaya mechanics and staff waiting for him, and everyone noticed how his eyes lit up when he saw his dad and you away from the crowd, with his baby girl clapping her hands and letting out the loudest and happiest giggles, especially when Lando took her from your arms and leaving a loud kiss on her cheek before trying to hide her face on his neck and reaching to you, kissing your lips.

He received his trophy, sang his national anthem and ended the day handing his precious camera to Daniel.

It was already dark, most people were leaving as Lando grabbed your waist with one arm, the trophy with another as you held Amalia in your hip, in front of Lando’s winner car.

lando.jpg: silverstone 2024. do I need to say more?

ps: please do not repost pictures of our daughter online, I’m sharing this because it’s one of the best days of my life and wanted to celebrate with my favorite girls (and my car).

#f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x oc #lando norris x you #lando norris blurb #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris au #lando norris one shot #dad!lando norris

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marieracingteam · 15 days

Text

Lancey and his Lilybug – ls.18

stepdad!Lance Stroll

word count: 2990

summary: The day Lance realised he will never be dad to his baby.

Lance knew Lily wasn’t his. He knew. He reminded himself of it every day to see if, by force of repetition, he would memorize it.

But nothing seemed to work when he came back home to her steps running down the stairs.

So he forgot. Or maybe he ignored the truth.

He forgot while he was playing dolls with her. He forgot during bathtime when the whole bathroom was covered in bubbles and marks of the Bathroom Crayons they had just bought. He forgot when the food her mother had cooked for them was her least favorite –even if it was her favorite last week– and they had to play flights with it so she would eat it. He forgot while he was driving and could only think about home. And he forgot when she would wake them up at night time so she could sleep between them, even if he had an early morning waiting for him.

He forgot most of the time.

However, he couldn’t forget it this time. At that moment, Lance couldn’t pretend to ignore the truth any longer.

Lily wasn’t his daughter, she would never be.

Even with his ring on her mom’s finger and their names in the housing registry he bought.

Even if he was the one she called when she was sick.

Lance wasn’t her real dad. His name wasn’t on the list. And nothing will change it. Not even his father's last name.

“I am really sorry Mr. Stroll, but only the immediate family can enter the intensive care unit. I understand your frustration, but there is nothing I can about about it” said the nurse again.

“Listen, if this is about money…” his father kept going but Lance was no longer listening.

The corridor that separated them, which became increasingly endless, was now his only breathing space. As he walked through it he could only think that Lily was not his. Which was curious when he thought about how much time he had spent ignoring that detail.

Lily was in there and he could only be out there.

When only a door separated them, Lance stood in front of the small glass. Through it, he could only see another white hallway and a doctor passing by, but he still didn't dare to look away.

He knew if father was calling him, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the crystal. The nurse had allowed him to stand them as long as he didn’t try trespassing and he was going to take advantage of that piece of mercy as much as he could.

“Son”, his father tried again.

And that word made Lance want to fall to the ground and stay there till it all stopped.

Son. He was someone’s one. Just like Lily was someone's daughter.

But not his. Never his.

She was the daughter of someone who wasn’t even going to come see her. And he was the son of someone who would have to live with the knowledge that his granddaughter would never have his last name.

“She will be alright. You heard your fiancée. She will be fine.”

But his father hadn’t seen the state the car was in.

He had not had to drive faster than the legal speed to reach a car that was destroyed and from which his family was being taken.

He had not been separated from his family at the door of a hospital because they were nothing of his.

His father had always been there with him. He had always been at the foot of his children's beds. He had always held their hands when they needed him most. Even when it was just a chipped tooth.

Lance couldn’t even see her through a window.

He could just stare at an empty hallway and wait.

And wait he did. He waited for hours standing there. Just moving once to let a doctor open the door and enter the area he could never pass into. He waited until his father had to sit and he waited until the nurse clocked out and a new one came by. He waited while his father tried again without any result. He waited while his cell phone didn't ring.

And when he thought he couldn’t wait any more a door opened in the hallway and a nurse appeared pushing a bed.

A bed too big for such a small body.

And he knew like he supposed any father would. He knew that was his baby.

His fiancée was the first to see him as she walked out of the room. Her head and one of her arms had been bandaged and a slight limp made him realize that one of her legs must have also been injured, but she had not been the one who had received the biggest blow from the drunk driver.

She slightly smiled at him with a sorry expression and she silently turned to the nurse, who also gave him a look before turning the bed and directing it towards the door so that he could see the little girl.

He tried calling his father, but nothing came out of him when he saw her there.

She had a few scratches on her face and arms –the only parts of her that weren’t covered by the sheet– but she seemed to be healthy despite everything.

The ambulance had taken her directly to the intensive care unit of the emergency room after removing her from the back of the car, which had been completely destroyed. Everything had happened so fast that he hadn't been able to see her for even a moment when he arrived. Afterward, Lance had only had a second to talk to his fiancée before she could come in to see her daughter.

When Lily saw him, Lance could have sworn his heart stopped completely. He damned the door when he couldn’t hear her little voice saying his name or reach her and touch her like he had been praying to.

She waved her small hands as she hadn’t expected him to be there. And he couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

His fiancée grabbed her phone –which was cracked and didn’t function completely fine– and he copied her almost knocking it to the ground.

“Lancey!” shouted Lily as soon as the call connected. The video didn't work, but he didn’t need it to see them through a screen when he had them in the flesh before his eyes.

“Baby!” he cried back almost colliding with the glass.

“Lancey! I missed you!”.

“So did I baby, so did I. Are you ok? Does anything hurt?” he asked her without taking his eyes off the small window.

“A little. They are going to put a bandaid on, but they don’t have the dinosaurs ones” she explained like nothing had really happened, as if a car driving at more than 100km on a conventional road had not crashed into her door at a red light.

“They said she is fine. The car seat you bought her stopped most of the blow. She only has some injuries from the flying glass. They still have to do an MRI, but they believe that everything will be fine. Now they are going to do the test and if everything goes well they will move us to a room to spend the night under surveillance.” His fiancée explained with tears in her eyes, still in shock from the crash.

Lance could only nod at that while trying to process everything. He didn’t even feel his father's presence behind him.

“You may not be in here but you saved her” she whispered while her daughter threw kisses at him from her bed. He nodded again, remembering the car seat he always made them carry when they visited him. It was crazy expensive and a hulk to carry, but a traffic safety expert had told him it was the best on the market and Lance had refused to drive any car with Lily that didn't have it. He had even bought one for his father’s and sister’s car and another one for Lily's biological father for a car she had never been in Still, he would have preferred never to need it.

His father pressed his head to his son's so he could see the little girl through the window, who immediately began calling him on the phone.

While they spoke, Lance's fiancée moved closer to the window and put her hand in the crystal. Her ring crashed in the process, making the glass vibrate. Lance quickly followed her.

“I’m sorry. I love you” she muttered the words making him repeat them instantly.

Before this, they knew how things worked. Of course they did. It took a while for Lance to be able to pick up Lily from daycare because of the paperwork both parents had to sign. They knew that the relationship they had did not magically make Lance a legal guardian of the little girl. Even so, the hospital's refusal to let Lance in despite the couple's requests had been like a bucket of cold water for both of them.

“We love you” she repeated and he just nodded in tears watching them leave again.

However, this time the wait seemed shorter.

Even though his fiancée's phone had completely died, Lance knew that they were both safe and well and that he would soon be able to see them and hold them in his arms when they were taken to one of the hospital rooms.

So he tried not to focus too much on what had happened. He tried again to ignore the fact that he was still behind a door and think about how soon everything would return to normal.

He tried hard enough, but the door was still there and when the nurse told him he could visit them in their room, she referred to him as a visitor and not a family member.

His father didn’t seem to mind, but he knew he did. Of course, he did. He was just trying to keep his composure for the sake of his son.

But how could he not mind? How could he be okay with his son having to see his family secretly while the girl's real father hadn't even bothered to call?

How could he be okay when his son had called him desperate because his fiancée and his little girl had had an accident on the way to the paddock? No matter what last name they had, they were his family.

When Lance arrived at the room he felt like he was going to pass out. The wait had been long and exasperating. The not knowing had been almost worse than receiving the news in the first place.

But now nothing mattered anymore. Now he was there and so were they.

“Lancey!” the girl shouted from the bed when she saw the driver at the door.

His fiancée turned around immediately and when she smiled letting him know that everything was fine they both breathed for the first time since the accident.

He almost felt dizzy when he started to breathe normally and his muscles relaxed for the first time in the last two hours. But he walked anyway to the bed, almost running, and to the little girl in there.

He didn’t mind he was still in the team wear, he didn’t care about anything else as he held Lily in his arms.

“Are you ok, baby girl?” he whispered in her hair “Are you ok?” he said as he checked her again and again without letting go of her as he had done with his fiancée before.

“Yeah! They gave me candy because they said I was very brave. But look! They did hurt a lot before” Lily explained while showing Lance the scratches the doctor had already disinfected.

“I am sure you were, baby. That was scary, right?”

“A little. But mommy was with me and she said you were coming to save us”

At that, Lance’s fiancée finally approached them again, letting Lance have his moment with the little girl.

“And he was,” she confirmed while stroking Lance’s back “Lancey was there the whole time”.

But Lily wasn’t happy with that answer. Even if she was well-behaved for an almost six-year-old, she still was a child who didn’t fully understand the grown-up's problems.

“The doctor said you couldn't be with me because you are not my daddy. Is it because I don't call you dad?” Lily asked while she hugged him tighter.

Lance pulled away a little to see her face while they were talking and, from the corner of his eye, he saw how his father moved away from the foot of the bed to let them talk more privately.

“No baby, this isn't your fault. At all.” Lance let her know, firm but loving “You are my good girl, aren’t you?”.

They had already spoken about the “dad” thing before. Her biological father had told her that only he could be dad the last time he saw her a year ago when the girl innocently told him that her mother was going to marry the driver. And Lance hadn't pushed her when his fiancée told him what had happened.

He wanted to, obviously. He dreamed about it most nights. But he understood. And then he forgot he wasn't really her dad. Even when she called him Lancey and he heard her call dad someone she only spoke to once a month over the phone if she was lucky.

Lily left his embrace completely and immediately started crying “I lied” she confessed between tears and whines “I told the doctor I would call you dad but I don't want you to be my dad. I just wanted you with me”.

She cried so hard that a nurse had to come in. Not even her mother could calm him as she cried the same again and again. “Please don't be my dad. Please”.

Lance felt stuck there. He felt like he was again before that door. Useless. Unable to do anything to change the situation over which he had no control.

Lily was high on meds. He could see some still being pumped into her through an IV. That's what he said again and again to himself as he heard his girl begging him to not be her dad.

Lily loved him deeply, almost as much as he did. He knew, he felt her love every day. He knew her love was real even if he didn’t see her some weekends because he was working. He knew she trusted him enough to wake him up when she had a nightmare. He knew she would sleep with them every night if her mom let her. He knew.

However, her cries were there, rejecting him again and again, almost knocking him down with each tear.

“I won't be your dad, Lily. I promise, baby” he said as tears also streamed down his cheeks.

She was holding his hand tightly and used it to wipe her face before speaking again. “I don't want you to be my dad. I want Lancey!” she cried stronger if that was possible.

Her mom got into bed with her as her last effort to calm her down. She was looking at him as he imagined he was looking at her.

However, this was not the time to think about himself. Nothing about that day had anything to do with him. Now he had to think about Lily and her fiancée. He would have time to lick his wounds later.

When the nurse came back again he knew he had to leave before they showed him the door. He may not know how, but he was the cause of her distress. Which was a little bit funny considering he always was her protector before.

“Everything will be alright, Lily. I will let you rest now, baby. I love you” he said kissing her temple and letting go of her hand.

Nevertheless, that didn’t work as he hoped.

“Lancey!” she screamed as she watched him leave.

Even though her mother was holding her, Lily tried to get out of her arms to get out of bed, pulling on the IV and causing the nurse to have to hold it to prevent her from accidentally tearing it out.

“You are not my daddy!” she cried one last time. A scream so heartbreaking that Lance was holding her before he was even aware was going to do it. “Please, don't leave like my dad. I want you to be Lancey forever. My Lancey.”

With that, his fiancée silently cried as she made space for him in the small hospital bed, finally understanding everything. So did Lance’s father, who always knew she was his granddaughter without needing a last name or a title.

Lance didn’t say a word as he lay in bed holding Lily in his chest minding the IV and grabbing his fiancée's hand.

“I will always be your Lancey, Lilybug” he whispered as she finally relaxed in his arms.

“We are going to be alright, love” his fiancée said as she caressed his hand “We don’t need titles to be perfect”.

He just nodded, forgetting everything that didn’t really matter. He forgot the door and the wait too when Lily fell asleep in his chest, safe and sound.

He only let go of them when he remembered the thing he always carried in his wallet close to the picture of the three of them they had taken last year.

Without waking her up, Lance put the dinosaur bandaid on her arm on the tape that held the IV.

His fiancee hugged tighter as he did and he forgot the rest of the day and the fact that Lily wasn't his daughter.

Because he was her Lancey and she will always be her baby. And that was more than many fathers could say.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 angst #lance stroll #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll imagine #lance stroll fluff #lance stroll angst #ls18 #ls18 x reader

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iikatsukii · 1 year

Text

When the clock resets.

synopsis: you’re brought back to life, unsure as to why eywa has given you another chance but as you return “home” things aren't quite the same. .

pairings: sully family x daughter/sister!reader, neteyam x twin!reader, neytiri x daughter! reader, jake x daughter!reader

warnings: um tbh none except minor cursing, running away, passing out, mentions of malnourishment due to you being dead but yk. oh and ao’nung being a mama’s boy.

word count: 6,064

a/n: THIS IS PART 2 OF TOO LATE!!!! unfortunately there is no red text this time but guys i am still not done with this series because i have a request for if the reader survived the first part. but i will be moving back over to illicit love for a little bit because i didn't even expect this story to blow up like i did. like yall i was just sad and here yall are feeding off my trauma. but its okay yall are my little angst hungry babies. :) (also huge fucking shoutout to @eywas-heir for giving me this idea for pt. 2. go give them kisses for me and say i sent you :d)

taglist: @hai-kbai @ssc7514 @sillydog3-4-5 @hyunskz @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @rairaielv @freeauthordeputyartisan-blog @mel119g @ksata @artyom09 @marcswife21 @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @andyfromku

(if youre name has a strike through it that means i wasnt able to tag you im so sorry guys i tried)

waking up felt extremely weird. you felt like you had taken the longest, heaviest nap ever. slowly opening your eyes to adjust to the light, you take in your surroundings.

you're in a shallow hole, you noticed as you looked around, and there was dirt around you. you look up at what you would think was the sky and see something else that you remember seeing before. you see the leaf covering that the omatikaya place over their passed-away loved ones. you usually see these leaf coverings from the outside. this caused a slight panic to settle in your chest?

why are you here? did you die? what the hell is going on?

you reached your arm up, still feeling weak from not moving your joints in you don't even know how long. you slowly press against the leaf covering, pushing it away from the hole and exposing the sun to your eyes. you shielded yourself before you felt a shadow standing over your form. it was mo'at. the tsahik of the omatikaya clan.

"tsahik?" it was the first word you said, and it caused mo'at to press a hand to her mouth in shock as tears sprang to her eyes. her granddaughter, who had passed away two years ago, was looking up to her from her grave that she had pushed open herself. the tsahik didn't understand. how could the great mother take you away for two years and let their family mourn and grieve your death just to send you back to them two years later?

this made no sense.

"come with me, my child," was the only thing mo'at said as she reached out to grab your hand. she intertwined your fingers, wanting to hold her granddaughter as close as possible, fearing losing you again. she helped you out of the hole slowly as you still had to get used to moving your arms and legs around again.

"ma tsahik?" you asked the older woman standing before you. "what happened to me?"

she didn't turn to look at you as she said in a hushed, almost hurt, tone of voice, "you died two years ago," you were left speechless. you didn't know what to say, so you didn't say anything. you tried to think back on what happened before you woke up from your 'nap,' but you couldn't remember anything. no matter how hard, no memories or thoughts came to your head.

"do not try to work your brain so hard trying to find answers that will come to you, my child. you'll hurt yourself." the tsahik jokes.

you looked up at her, seeing the slight smile on her face but missing the faint trace of tears in her eyes. you let out a small laugh at her joke.

"hey! i may not remember anything from before, but i know i was not stupid before i died." you laughed along, but this caused the tsahik to stop in her tracks, turning to you.

"say that again." she said, grabbing hold of your shoulders, her face painted with worry.

"i was not dumb before i died?" you said, confused at her sudden actions.

"no, child! the other thing you said."

"oh, that i do not remember anything from before i died?" your words were cautious because you didn't know if what you were saying was offensive.

"we must get you back to the camps." was all she said as she turned, grabbing your hand, but this time she walked with urgency. her pace was hard to keep up with due to your aching body, but you somehow managed.

once you started to enter your native territory, you felt eyes everywhere. everyone was looking at you. you get it; you died and came back, but did everyone have to stare at you like that? it wasn't like you were the olo'eyktans daughter before you died.

mo'at brought you to the center of the high grounds camp, and everyone gathered around to see what announcement their tsahik had for them.

she didn't have some big speech planned. she just held your hand and said to the clan's people.

"the great-mother has returned my granddaughter!" everyone was cheering and happy. this confused the sully family. the past two years after your death have been hard. the natives completely annihilated every rda soldier, lab, and scientist in sight. it was an unexpected, coordinated attack between the forest na'vi, the ice na'vi, and, surprisingly, even the ash na'vi. due to transportation, the water na'vi couldn't make it to fight the war, but they were able to send over some of their finest healers.

let's just say no ships are coming to pandora ever again. jake made sure to send a message to the humans back on earth that if they ever sent one of their own to his planet again, he would single-handedly rip them each limb from limb. that was a promise, not a threat. humans had not gotten a chance to respond to jake's words. right after he delivered his messages, he pulled the pin of a grenade and walked out of the ship, it and the rest of the camp's base exploding behind them. although they didn't get to respond, they sure did receive the message, and earth now no longer had an avatar program. as the na'vi walked away from the war, they were victorious once and for all.

neytiri was quietly braiding her youngest daughter's hair when she heard the cheers and celebration of the clan outside her home. and then that's when her three older children came running into their hut, screaming and crying, speaking simultaneously. it sounded as if they were speaking gibberish.

"hey, hey kids calm down. what is going on?" jake asked his children, who looked like they were in distress. he was sitting in the home's living area, sharpening his blade as he had nothing else to do.

"Y/N HAS RETURNED." it was kiri who got the words out first.

neytiri, jake, and tuk all froze. there was no way. the great mother had taken you right in front of their eyes. you have been gone for two years; it can't be. neytiri had visited your grave just last night. there you lay, closed-eyed and lifeless in front of her, but as she walked out of her home and into the center of the clan's gathering there, you stood. you looked skinny and malnourished, but you were standing, breathing, alive.

neytiri couldn't believe her eyes. she thought she was dreaming as she approached you slowly. she held your face in her hands, and as soon as she felt your skin against her own, she broke down in tears, engulfing you in the tightest hug you had ever felt.

"ow." you said when she squeezed a bit too hard. this caused the woman to release you quickly, as she had forgotten how fragile you were right now.

"ma ite, you have returned to me, oh great mother, you have answered my prayers. thank you, thank you, thank you," she said as she pulled you into a hug again, this time softer, as if she was afraid that if she held you too rough, you would break in her arms.

you, on the other hand, were nervous. granddaughter? ite? what is going on right now? there's no way you're the tsahik's granddaughter. you couldn't imagine what your mother would be like as a person, let alone any of your family. all you knew was that you were from the forest, but maybe eywa brought you back to the wrong part of the forest? you couldn't even look at the woman before you and pinpoint a resemblance. you had four fingers; some of her children had five, and you weren't like them. only one other child had four tingers, and you noticed it was the eldest son.

when you made eye contact with him, his eyes softened. neteyam hadn't looked into his twin's eyes in ages. he missed you like no other. yeah, neytiri had it hard losing her first daughter, but neteyam had his twin's life ripped from her body right in front of his eyes. at that moment, it was almost like he felt the bullets go through his chest as well. that's how great the pain of losing you felt. but looking at you now, he felt like his heart was whole again. but there was this look in your eye. you looked different. not physically. you looked at neteyam differently. almost like you didn't recognize him.

mo'at had hoped that seeing your home and your family would cause your memories to come flooding back, but the look on your face was not giving her that impression.

"i am sorry if i am ruining a happy moment…." you spoke up, causing everyone to immediately silence themselves so they wouldn't miss a word you said. but you didn't say anything that caused any happiness or joy in anyone. instead, your words scared everyone.

"–but i do not know who you guys are. i am not the tsahik's granddaughter and miss, i am not your daughter. i am sorry but i think you have things confused. please excuse me." you pulled yourself away from the woman who claimed to be your mother, but she tightened her grip on your hands.

"ma y/n, what do you mean? you do not remember me? i am your mother, your sa'nu. you are ma ite, my sweet girl." neytiri was taken aback. this isn't right, you're supposed to come back, and then everything goes back to normal. but the great mother has returned you with no memories at all. to you, neytiri was just a stranger claiming to be your mother.

the next person to approach you was the olo'eyktan himself. you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes because of how his vast form intimidated you.

"itetsyip. maybe if you come home and see some of your things then you'll remember." he said, placing his hand on your back and walking you in the direction of what you assumed was their home. you quickly remove yourself from the two adults who had you in their arms.

"i am sorry but i am not your daughter. i do not want to enter your home to look at whatever things you think are mine. just because i have no memory of my family does not mean you get to take me away from them. the great mother may have returned me to my body with no memories but that does not mean you get to put whatever you want in my head, trying to get me to believe you. i only just returned. do you not understand how overwhelming this is?" you were scared. everything was happening so fast.

you just found out that you had been dead for two years, and now these people are trying to push this life in you that you know god and well that wasn't yours. you don't know who these people are, and they were making absurd accusations. maybe you really were in the wrong part of the forest.

"y/n stop joking around. do you not remember us? you are neteyam's twin sister for crying out loud. how can you be cruel enough to pull a joke like this? have we not suffered enough?" lo'ak was fed up with this whole situation. you were his sister, dammit. how could you not remember that? neteyam is your twin. you, tuk, and kiri were sisters. they're standing right in front of you, just begging you to run into their arms so they can embrace you.

you looked at the teenage boy oddly. like he had three heads. he doesn't know what he's talking about. these people are so pushy and demanding; you can't come from a family like this. you thought about it, and you knew they would be able to catch you if you tried to make a break for it, but you didn't want to be here anymore.

lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the family's eldest son walking up to you. he gently grabbed your shoulders, looking directly into your eyes that were identical to his.

"you could not have forgotten about your twin brother have you, sister?" his words were soft. they sounded broken like he was hurting inside. from what? you don't know, but this isn't your problem to deal with. these people obviously lost somebody, but it is not you. you are not from here. so you hatched a plan in your head.

"maybe i just need to walk around the forest and re-familiarize myself. it–" you choked on your words, not even wanting to say it.

"it could help me regain my memories. and then we can be a family again, yeah?" you look into the boy's eyes, noticing them shining a bit brighter. you gave him hope.

that wasn't your intention. you just wanted to leave, so to make yourself 100x more believable, you hugged him. with all the strength you had in your body, which wasn't much.

everyone was shocked. even neteyam, but he didn't want to lose this moment, so he hugged you back tight, so you could feel his love but not too tight because of how weak you are. you pulled back from the hug, bowing slightly to everyone before you walked in the direction that you and the tsahik came from so you wouldn't seem lost. you looked back before you could fully disappear into the trees. eyes meeting those of the people who claimed to be your family. looking at them, you didn't even see where you would fit in. they already looked whole. so you managed a small fake smile, sent them a small wave, and continued your trek through the forest, trying to get as far away from the omatikaya people as possible.

by the time they realize you're gone, you'll already be way too far for them to find you. you wandered around, wondering why the great-mother returned you like this? did you not deserve to keep your memories?

almost as if she heard your question, the great mother flashed an image in your head. it was different shades of forest green, with indigo spots placed randomly around its body, looking almost like flowers. its wings were majestic, but you couldn't pinpoint what you had seen until it landed right in front of you, keeping you from walking off a cliff you hadn't even realized you were walking towards.

you couldn't believe that after two years of being gone, your ikran, syulang, was still alive. you named her syulang because, yes, of course, she looks like she's covered in flowers, but unlike other ikrans, syu was quiet, elegant, almost undetectable in the air. you would never hear her flying anywhere, and nobody knew why. the air would run smoothly over her wings, completely muting the sound of the wind rushing by in comparison to the usual loud, noisy ikrans that everyone else had tamed. syulang was delicate, like a flower. "syu! hi girl, oh my goodness you’re alive." you said as you created your tsaheylu with her for the first time in years. it felt like the first time all over again, except without the part where she tried to kill you. syulang was happy to see you as well, nuzzling into you. "syulang, we have to go. right now. come on girl, take me home." when you said this, syulang made a noise of confusion but allowed you to mount her anyways. the two of you took off into the night, the eclipse making it too dark for anyone to notice that an ikran was out flying. not like they would hear syulang anyways.

it's been hours. you still hadn't come back from the forest, and the sullys were getting worried. everyone was tense and stressed until kiri spoke up.

"she ran away," the teenage girl hadn't even realized it was herself who had spoken. she looked up and made eye contact with everyone in her family, repeating herself.

"she ran away, and she is not going to come back." tears sprung to her eyes as she just wanted her sister to return home. it was like eywa was dangling the most precious thing to them right in their faces, and every time they reached out, she snatched it away.

"she would not do that. she said she was just going on a walk. kiri have some faith in her. sure she did not remember us but she would not have hugged me if she was just gonna run away. she said she would come home." neteyam argued. he didn't want to believe that you had left them again, but that's what it was starting to seem like.

"we will check the ikrans. if hers is still there, then she's around here somewhere. we can go out and look for her." syulang had not left your family's ikran nest since the day you had passed. she was too depressed to do anything with her hunter being dead. the sullys made sure to take care of her for you, knowing you wouldn't want syu to suffer like you did. honestly, syulang was the closest thing the sullys had to you after you died. they'd take turns taking care of her at night, bringing tuk every now and then so she could see syulang too.

the walk to the family ikran nest was full of arguing. kiri said that neteyam and lo'ak had to come to their senses and realize that you were gone again. the boys refused to believe that you would leave again, but as they approached the ikran nest, seeing syulang's corner abandoned gave them the answer they fought over.

you had left.

"i told you she left. i mean for eywa's sake you guys bombarded her as soon as she got here!" kiri yelled at her family. she knew this was just displaced anger and that she didn't really mean it, but she was tired of holding her tongue.

"don’t you dare say we bombarded her! she is my twin who died in front of me! eywa forgive me for wanting to hug her after she's been dead for two years!" neteyam yelled back at kiri; this just caused a huge family argument to break out.

tuk, who was standing to the side watching her family fall apart, couldn't help but cry. she just wanted her family to go back to normal. "stop fighting…" it came out as a whisper, her family arguing so loud that they hadn't even heard her. so she decided to make them hear her.

"STOP FIGHTING!!" everyones' heads snapped at the youngest sully child. little tuk had just raised her voice at them for the first time ever.

"give me a break! we are all hurt okay?! us, y/n, grandma, the clan? everyone is sad! we did bombard her! she has not been here for two years. we should have let her settle in first. i get it. you guys miss her. so do i, but ma sa'nu when you talked to her she looked so confused and scared. and nete, when she was hugging you her eyes were so empty. she looked so lost. we scared her away. we had a chance to make things normal again, to be a family again and all you guys could do was be selfish and think about yourselves!! i just miss her. i want her to come back, i–" tuk couldn't even finish what she was saying as her sobs overcame her. neytiri scooped up her youngest daughter, cradling her in her arms, trying to soothe her harsh cries.

tuk had just lectured their entire family, and nobody could be mad at her because she was right. neytiri realized that she had been pushy. jake and lo'ak, too, but it wasn't because they were trying to scare you. they just missed you so much they couldn't contain themselves. they had been selfish, putting their feelings over yours once again. it was the same way they lost you last time, and now, who knows where you went or when you left. the family just remained in their ikrans nest that night, needing all the warmth they could get as they all just held each other and cried.

you didn't think you could fly any longer. it had already been a few days, and you didn't see the forest anymore. you already didn't have a lot of energy due to you being dead for two years, but it didn't help that you left with absolutely no supplies to survive on your own. everything was starting to look the same. you felt like you were going in circles, seeing the same islands over and over. the ocean water was beautiful, you had to admit, but right now, all you could think about was if it would cushion your fall if you fell off your ikran. you knew it was only moments before you passed out from exhaustion.

the world started to spin as if it wasn't already, your vision was in and out, and you felt sleepy. you were exhausted and couldn't fly another second. as your body completely shut down, you fell off your ikran and into the waters below you, your tsaheylu disconnecting in the process.

had it not been for the hunters out at three brothers rock, you would have died. they noticed your ikran flying in the direction of their mainland, assuming you were a visitor and that they would meet you when they got back to the island, but they knew something was wrong when they noticed your form plummeting from the extreme height, completely motionless.

they only took a few minutes to have you on the rock. they were nervous about doing cpr on you because you looked to be a teenager.

"ao'nung, come over here!" the hunter in charge called over the olo'eyktans son.

"what is it?" he said, noticing the tension in the air. he looked down, seeing you unconscious on the ground. his eyes widened. where had you come from? pushing that question aside, ao'nung took in your appearance, noticing how thin and weak you looked. he didn't know what it was, but it stirred something in him. you reminded him of his little sister, tsireya. if this was her, he would want one of the hunters to save her, so he put one arm under your shoulders and another under your leg and slid into the water, calling out to his ilu.

"i'm bringing her to my mother immediately. she looks weak. i don't even know if she'll live, but i have to try." he said before taking off as fast as he could to the mainland. he noticed above him your ikran was flying at the same pace as him, probably too worried to leave your side.

when ao'nung got home holding an unconscious forest na'vi, he received a lot of weird glances from the clan's people, but he didn't care. he rushed home, looking for his mother.

pushing the flap open to see his mother had just put the last of her herbs away, ao'nung called out to his mom.

"sa'nu! help! i– she needs help. please." hearing her son in distress, ronal was quick to give him her attention. instructing to lay the girl on the floor, she reminded herself to ask him where he had found her, but right now, she prioritized saving your life. she tried a healing remedy that would've usually worked, but you remained motionless. ronal put her ear to your chest, your heart was beating, but it was very faint. she knew only one thing she could do now, and it was the riskiest healing remedy known by all tsahiks. it has a minimal success rate but has healed some of the deadliest injuries known to eywa.

once the remedy was made entirely, ronal told ao'nung to get out and find his father and sister before coming back. the boy nodded, walking out to find his sister.

when he spotted tsireya riding on the ilus with her friends, he called her over. tsireya noticed her brother looked a bit more anxious than usual, so she excused herself and walked over.

"brother what is wro– oh!" ao'nung pulled his little sister into the tightest hug he could muster. she remained shocked as her brother wasn't really one for physical affection at all unless it was from his mother.

"please just– don't die on me, okay? at least not anytime soon. promise me, okay?" he said, pulling back and grabbing her shoulders as he looked into his sister's eyes. she just nodded and walked alongside her brother, wondering what on earth had him shaken up like this.

upon retrieving his father, ao'nung returned with his father and his sister in tow. when they entered the tent, you were in ronal's arms, crying your heart out. the woman just looked up to her family, shushing them as she continued to provide you comfort. hearing your cries throughout their home hurt their hearts. you cried like you were hurt like you had experienced grave pain, and it was coming back to haunt you.

from this moment on, the family decided they would take you in. they didn't know who or where you were from, but they wanted to heal you of this pain. their hearts hurt hearing how much pain your heart had to endure. there's a reason why eywa brought you to them, and they were not about to let you go.

you had been living amongst the metkayina clan for about half a year now. you weren't even recognizable from when you had arrived at the clan. when you got here, you were thin as a twig, you never had the energy to do anything, and you cried yourself to sleep every night. now, you had filled out your form, even gaining a bit of muscle from adapting to the metkayina ways. you had also completed your iknimaya, which meant you were allowed to get a tattoo. you choose to get two. the pain was well worth it, though, because once your leg sleeve and arm tattoo were complete, you couldn't have been happier.

you finally felt like your life was worth living again. you no longer cried yourself to sleep; instead, you snuck out with your brother and sister, going to the small island where all the young na'vi hang out. you were finally happy. the great mother had brought you home. she had returned you to your family.

the only odd thing was your dreams recently. you dreamed of the forest, of nantangs, woodsprites, and ikrans. things that have nothing to do with the metkayina. it was weird. you felt like eywa was trying to shove memories in your brain, but you were so at peace with your life that you disregarded it, too caught up, in reality, to be bothered by silly dreams.

you loved life on the beaches, in the sand, underwater, just taking in the beauty of awat'alu as you sat on a rock. at the same time, you watched ao'nung, tsireya, and rotxo playing on their ilus in the water. they were splashing each other, just taking time to be the teenagers they knew they'll never be again. you were about to cannonball in the water to join them when you all heard the horns of the clan being blown, announcing new arrivals.

you all stopped what you were doing, looking toward the screeches you heard. you knew that sound, that was bob, jake's ikran.

wait a minute… what?

whos jake?

‘jake sully’ said a voice in your head. you recognized it as she had spoken to you once before, but you couldn't remember where.

why is this name coming to your head right now? you felt your wrist being grabbed by your sister, tsireya. she dragged you to the beaches of your clan's home, where everyone else had gathered. you stood behind your father, tonowari, as you continued to think about the name that came to your head. who is jake sully, and why did you just remember his name?

"my children, ao'nung, tsireya, and–" tonowari paused, looking to his side at his children, realizing one was missing, until he turned around and realized you were just hiding behind him.

"–and my youngest, y/n, will teach your children the ways of our home, so you do not suffer the burden of being useless here," tonowari stepped aside, pushing you in front of him, so the family who had arrived could see you.

you looked up to make eye contact with the first person you spotted.

"tuktuk." the words were quiet from your mouth. the little girl, who had her head tucked into her mother's neck, perked up when she heard the nickname you used to call her.

"kiri, cut it out. that is not funny!" tuk said, looking at her sister, offended she would play a sick joke on her like that after they had just left their home.

jake and neytiri decided to move their family from the omatikaya clan, deciding that being there reminded them too much of you. it hurt to continue to live on the soil that you died on. so they up and moved their whole family elsewhere, flying towards warmer air and gorgeous waters. they fully expected to be able to find uturu with jake being toruk makto and their war being over. what they hadn't expected to see was their dead runaway daughter standing amongst a sea of teal na'vi.

slowly walking towards the family, tonowari called out to you, but ronal placed her hand on her mate's chest, telling him to shut up and watch what was happening.

"tuktuk," you repeated as you walked towards the girl. when tuk realized that the voice was coming from in front of her and not behind her, she turned her head around, her yellow eyes meeting yours.

"y/n!!" tuk practically dropped herself from her moms' arms, running up to you.

you met her halfway, falling to your knees, pulling your little sister into a hug, her face in your neck as you supported her head. as you looked at each one of them, their names, faces, and memories came back. you remembered everything.

"and you're neteyam, and lo'ak and kiri!" when your siblings heard you say their names, it was like a switch in them flipped. within seconds they were all in the sand hugging you and tuk, crying because you finally remembered them.

you pulled back from the hug, looking at the two people who hadn't joined the hug yet.

"sempu," you said, reaching your hand out to jake. he didn't even try to conceal his tears as he allowed himself to join his children in their hug.

your mother still stood there in awe. neytiri was scared. she was the reason you left last time and didn't want to scare you away again, so she just stood with tears rolling down her face, not knowing what to do. for the first time in her life, neytiri didn't know what to do.

you could see the hesitation in her eyes. but you were confused as to why. neytiri was the only one who treated you right before you died… so why is she the last to come to you.

"mom?" you called out to her, but she didn't move. did she not want you anymore? has she gotten used to the family without you?

you tried once more, refusing to lose your family again. "sa'nu, please." a tear rolled down your cheek, looking into your mother's eyes. you saw all the hurt and stress, everything she had to endure while you were gone.

hearing you call her sa'nu was the last push neytiri needed before she fell to her knees and joined her family's embrace. you have returned. you returned to your family, and you were safe. everyone pulled back from you, taking in your appearance. you had matured a lot since the last time they saw you. you and neteyam were about the same height now, but your muscles surpassed his due to all the swimming you do.

you noticed that he had noticed too, and you just nudged his shoulder with your own, "do not worry, twin, i will teach you everything you will need to know. maybe you will grow up to be big and strong like me," you teased your twin. neteyam rolled his eyes, laughing along with you.

"woah! y/n, you have a tattoo?" lo'ak asked as he looked at your left leg. you just laughed at his silly question. of course, that's the first thing he asks you.

"she has two! there's one on this arm as well," kiri said, holding out your right arm so they could see the tattoo that you had there as well.

"no fair, mom, i want a tattoo." tuk said, whining to her mother. neytiri laughed at her daughter's statement and just pet her head, moving her braids out her face. "maybe when you're older, tuk," she said.

"babygirl," your father grabbed your attention. "i just want you to know that we are all so sorry for how we treated you before you past–" you cut your father off, shaking your head.

"it is in the past. the great mother may have returned my memories but it is me who gets to choose which ones to remember. i want to leave the past behind me. i have found a new home here. new peace. a found family who loves me dearly. i don't want you guys to feel like you have to atone to anything. eywa has given us a new start, so i think we should welcome it with open arms instead of trying to mend that has already been healed," you really had matured in your time away from the sullys.

they all looked at one another. if that was what you wanted, they would be sure to leave the past in the past so they can embrace the chance to make things right with you.

you stood, the rest of the sullys following. you walked back over to tonowari and ronal, pulling them into a hug.

"just because my memories have returned does not mean that you are not my family anymore. you have all helped and healed me from wounds that i did not know i had so i can only thank you, sempu, sa'nu. you guys are my found family and i would not trade you for the world." smiling up at your other parents. Wow, this is gonna get confusing, but you were more than excited to have two families.

you looked over and pulled ao'nung and tsireya into the hug as well. "you guys, too, thank you so much," you said to your siblings. they couldn't do anything but hug you back. you may not be their biological blood, but they could care less. you are now one of their people. ronal and tonowari will always see you as their daughter, and ao'nung and tsireya will always see you as their sister. you will always be family to them.

you and tsireya decided to guide the sully family to their new home, as ronal had allowed them to stay. you noticed that lo'ak was eying your sister up quite a bit and decided that you would tease him about it later. you were just happy to finally feel at peace. you finally had the family, the life you had dreamed of.

you couldn't do anything except thank eywa for all the good she brought into your life.

‘you're welcome, my child.’ it was the same voice that you heard earlier. when you realized that she was responding to your thanks, if you finally clicked whose voice you were hearing.

it was eywa.

she was with you. she had always been. throughout this journey, she made sure to stick by your side. that was something that you couldn't be more grateful for.

‘be free my child, allow nothing from here on out to hold you back. you are meant to live a happy life, and now you are able to do so.’

#avatar x reader #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar wotw #avatar 2 #awotw x reader #atwow x you #atwow angst #jake sully x daughter!reader #neteyam x twin!reader #neteyam angst #ao'nung is a mommas boy idc.#sully family angst #happy endings i GUESS #illicit love is ab to make yall so mad LMFAO

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buckybarnesb-tch · 4 months

Text

I Will Always Believe You -Aemond T.

He had been inappropriate for a week now and no matter what you did, he always found a way to watch you.

You had been betrothed to Aemond as children, him having requested you as his wife with his mother when you were young and dragonless together. You were the best of friends and it had been devastating to be torn from him when your mother decided to leave the Red Keep for Dragonstone. Your mother however, knew that she couldn't break off the engagement that the King had ordered himself, loving to see his granddaughter happy with his son and insisting you stay that way. Viserys had a soft spot for you as the only daughter his daughter had.

Since you turned 16 with Aemond now 18, it was decided that you would come back to Kings Landing and prepare for the Wedding. You and Aemond had been getting to know each other again and it was great fun, the only problem was your guard. He had been keeping a very close eye on you and it had been unsettling for the first week but nothing to really complain about. It wasn't until a week ago that it became a problem.

He had come into your chambers while you were getting dressed, shushing you before you screamed in fright for help, reminding you how it would look for a Princess to have a guard in her chambers with her. He insisted no one would believe her if she told them and all he would have to do is tell them that she invited him in. She would look like a whore, her innocence would be questioned and the wedding would be cancelled.

More than anything though, the idea of the look on Aemond's face was what stopped her. She couldn't imagine the disappointment and disgust on his face when he found out that his betrothed had allowed another man into her bed. So now instead, he watches whenever she gets dressed, a truly discomforting look on his face as he leans against the door just staring.

He was her personal guard and so he followed her everywhere, to all of her meals, to the library when she wanted to read, and even on her outings with Aemond as they strolled through the gardens. As the days went on he got bolder, eventually sitting himself on her bed as he watched her undress, palming his crotch and groaning. It caused bile to rise in the back of her throat every time he did it, nearly making her vomit.

Aemond had noticed a change in you. No one else in the world knew you like Aemond did and you loved that, he had been your favorite person since you were a toddler and if something was wrong he always knew. He ignored it for a while since you didn't seem to want to discuss it but as it was coming up on the date of your wedding, he refused to ignore it anymore and he scheduled a date for the two of you.

It was night and you had just had dinner an hour before when he sent for you. He had told you not to have dessert that night and while you found it odd, you did as your betrothed asked, finding yourself on the beach later that night with Aemond. He had laid out a blanket and brought several desserts and wine, shooing off all the guards as Vhagar laid about 50 feet away and there was no telling what she would do around anyone but Aemond and his soon to be wife.

'This is absolutely lovely my Dragon! Thank you for thinking of me like this, no one has ever done something so sweet.' You were blushing like crazy as he poured you a cup of wine .

'Of course Princess, you know how much I enjoy spoiling you. Hungry?' He asked and you nodded before he handed you a plate with a lemon cake on it. 'I had hoped to speak with you about something.'

'Of course. What is on your mind, My Love?' He hesitated a moment before just coming out with it.

'You've been acting strange lately, as if you're uncomfortable-' as he started speaking you gasped, choking on the cake and coughing like crazy with him patting your back, a worried look on his face as you finally took a deep breath again. 'Is there something you want to tell me?' Aemond asked but you shook your head, a bit too quickly honestly. 'Y/n, I won't marry you if that's not what you want, I don't-'

'Oh Aemond! No! Of course I want to marry you, I've wanted this since we were children-'

'Then what is wrong? You've been acting odd and...scared almost. I will not have my wife afraid in my presence for any reason...what's going on?'

He sat there waiting and you wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him so badly but what would he think of you? Of a Targaryen too afraid to defend herself? Of his soon to be lady wife having a man watching her undress every night?

'I am afraid that you will think less of me...' his eyes widened in shock before he moved to pull you into his arms.

'Byka Zaldrīzes, that is impossible! I love you more than anything else in this world, I could never think less of you. Please? Tell me what is bothering you so much that you think you need to hide it from me.' His hand came up to wipe the tears that escaped down your cheeks.

'There is a man that is making me uncomfortable...and I am scared that if I say something that...I will not be believed, or worse, my innocence will be called into question and he...he used to just stare at me and make me feel unease but now he...he watches me...he-' you cannot stop the sob that explodes from your chest and Aemond's arms tighten around you.

'Tell me my love, you are safe I promise you.' He tucks your head under his chin as he holds you firmly and you can tell by the way he is breathing that he is enraged.

'He watches me change in the evening-'

'He what?!' He exclaimed, pulling you back to look at your face just as you hear Vhagar rumble in displeasure (at Aemond's anger or at being awoken you aren't sure). 'He has entered your chambers and you have not told me? How has your guard not done something about-' It seems he answered his own question as he realized why you were so afraid. 'Oh my love...I am so sorry you were forced to endure this, the man that should have been protecting you was the one hurting you. That is despicable!' He pressed his lips to your head and held you close once again. 'Rest assured, he will never do this to you again, I promise you my love.'

'Thank you! Thank you Kepa! I'm sorry that I did not tell you sooner, I-'

'Shh, no more of that.' He shushed, brushing his fingers through your hair and moving to rest you back against his chest. 'There has been no moment before now that he was not with us and I understand your fear, but just know-' he turned my face towards him to lock his eye on mine. 'My Princess is no liar, and as long as you do not start lying to me, I will always believe you. I believe in your innocence, and I believe that some men are horrid enough to take advantage of my Princess. Your next guard will be vetted by me personally, I will insist upon it. I already have one in mind, don't you worry. You will be free of that man tonight and I will have Ser Criston watch over you...Vhagar will enjoy getting rid of him, she hasn't burned anyone in quite a while.' I giggled as he said that, snuggling into my soon to be husband and protector, loving being fed my dessert like a queen until it was time to retire. 'You two, with me!' Aemond demanded as we walked into the Red Keep, 2 guards doing as their Prince told them and following behind us, another one going to fetch Ser Criston as we made it to my chambers and found my guard outside the door.

'Princess.' He greeted, opening my door but I didn't move from my Uncles side.

'Guards, I want you to escort this...man...to the Black Cells until morning, when he will join me in waking my dragon for breakfast.' Aemond told them. 'You will watch over his cell and if he is somehow not there in the morning, you two will escort me to Vhagar instead. Is that clear?'

'Yes, my Prince!' They replied in unison, my guard looking at me angrily.

'My Prince, I don't know what she has told you but I only did as I was told-'

'My future wife told you to watch her changing, she told you to threaten her with my displeasure and having her innocence questioned?' It was at that moment that Ser Criston arrived, Aemond's mother right alongside him which shocked us all.

'My son, what is the meaning of this at this late hour?' She asked, confused and tired.

'I am sorry to wake you mother, I require Ser Criston to guard my bride tonight until I can replace this vile creature with a proper guard for her tomorrow.'

'What's happened?' Alicent demanded, looking me over and taking hold of my face firmly, inspecting me.

'It seems my brides guard has taken it upon himself to threaten her and force her to allow him to watch her while she dresses.' Aemond explained and Alicent looked up at the guard, glaring hatefully. She had always loved me and I loved her as well, despite the fact that my mother didn't.

'Kill him!' Alicent ordered but Aemond stopped Criston quickly.

'He will be Vhagar’s in the morning mother, for tonight he will be taken to the Black Cells. I just need Ser Criston to watch my bride for the evening if that's alright.' Alicent looked contemplative.

'She will spend the evening with me. Come darling, you must be exhausted.' Aemond quickly kissed my head before I was dragged off to the Queens private rooms and helped change by a maid. 'I am so sorry you had to endure that. He did not touch you, did he?' She asked me as I crawled into the overly large bed, though it was the most comfortable bed I had ever experienced.

'No your Grace, only himself.' She nodded, taking my hand in hers.

'You are to be my sons bride, you will be protected here. Do you understand?'

'Yes, thank you. You have made me feel most welcome, despite your trouble with my mother and I cannot express my gratitude.' She smiled, petting my hair as I laid down and felt truly safe for the first time in a weeks.

'Of course. You know how I feel about you, and I adore how you love my son. I've always worried for him...even before Lucerys cut out his eye...but you've never wavered from his side. You are truly meant to be his bride. Sleep well, sweet one.'

The next morning I was awoken with the sun and quickly dressed, being escorted into the chilly morning before even breakfast, though as I stepped out of the castle a cloak was thrown over my shoulders by my soon to be husband who walked with me towards the beach where Vhagar slept soundly.

Aemond didn't even need to wake her, her head peeking up as we stepped onto the sand while 2 men dragged along my guard who was whimpering like a 3 year old as he stared at the largest dragon he had ever seen. 'Dohaerās Vhagar!' His voice was loud and commanding as the old dragon sat up and looked down at the people that had come to witness the spectacle, Aemonds mother and grandfather as well as his sister and many of the Kingsguard. I suppose Aegon couldn't have been bothered to wake up this early...if he was even in the castle. 'Let this serve as a warning and a lesson to any who would bring harm to my soon to be Lady wife! I will make sure that you suffer 10 times what you put her through...should there be a next time...I will not be so kind.' I held tightly to his hand before he pulled me close and kissed my head. 'Dracarys!'

I could instantly feel how intense the flames were even from 50 feet away from them, flinching back into my betrothed who held me to his side protectively. 'Thank you for believing me, Aemond.'

'I will always believe you my love...like I said, should there be a next time, don't wait so long to tell me. I will always ensure your safety, you have my word.'

With that, he escorted me back into the building for breakfast as Vhagar snorted, the ashes that were left of the man blowing away in the wind and letting me know that no matter what happened, I would always be safe with my husband.

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harunayuuka2060 · 2 months

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*Timeskip: Just one week remain until Princess Aoife's birth*

Baby Liora: Aoife! Aoife! Helloooooooooo~! *his head on Leona's tummy*

Leona: Seriously this kid- You will not hear your baby sister by doing that.

Baby Liora: No?? Where?? Dada!

Leona: *points at his chest* Here.

Baby Liora: *moves and places his ear over his father's chest* AOIFEEE!

Leona: Ugh. My ears-

MC: *walks in* Liora, what are you doing?

Ruggie: Shishishi! He's excited to meet his sister!

MC: Ruggie, take Liora with you and see Kifaj.

Ruggie: Right, right. *approaches Liora and picks him up* Come now, Your Royal Highness.

Baby Liora: Want see Aoife...

Ruggie: You're going to see her after this week.

MC: Yes. For now, you should play with Kifaj.

Baby Liora: *sad frowns*

MC: *walks up to him and gives him a peck on the cheek*

Baby Liora: *giggles*

Ruggie: We'll get going now. And rest up, Leona!

Leona: Yeay, yeah. Just leave.

Ruggie and Baby Liora: *has left the room*

MC: How are you feeling, Leona?

Leona: It's a bit uncomfortable. She can't seem to wait.

MC: You must be feeling excited about her arrival.

Leona: Are you going to take her now?

MC: Yes.

Leona: ...

MC: ...

Leona: Why are you not kissing me yet?

MC: You're looking forward to it?

Leona: *annoyed* Of course. That's what I waited two years for.

MC: ...

MC: You are making me speechless.

Leona: I demand minutes of it. This is the only time I could get affection from you.

MC: ...

MC's father: I want to witness the birth of my granddaughter.

MC's brother: No chance, father. I'm afraid you'll just have to watch on the side. *sips his tea*

MC's father: It's been years. Haven't they forgiven your sister yet?

MC's brother: MC is not a saint, father. And can you stop playing favorites already? This is why she grew up spoiled.

MC's father: ...

MC's former attendant: *walks in* Sir? You have a visitor.

MC's father: A visitor?

*MC's mother enters*

MC's father: What are you doing here?

MC's mother: Why? This is my estate too.

MC's brother: *his eyes widen in interest as he continues to drink his tea*

Ruggie: Are you two done now?

MC: ...

MC: Leona will give birth to Aoife.

Ruggie: I- Why?

MC: Our daughter of mine refused to be transferred. I'm afraid Leona would have to endure the process.

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: Well. He wouldn't mind being asleep for days.

MC: *looks seriously at him*

MC: He wouldn't just be sleeping for days. He will be escaping nightmares and illusions.

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: That doesn't sound too good. What are you going to do now?

MC: I will never let anything happen to him, of course.

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: You're so sweet to him, master-

MC: Ruggie.

Ruggie: Don't set me on fire.

MC's mother: MC has two children?

MC's brother: About to be two, yes.

MC's mother: ...

MC's mother: How are they? Didn't they struggle?

MC's brother: No worries, auntie. Your solution worked. They didn't get to inherit the bloodlust.

MC's mother: Oh... That's a relief.

MC's brother: *smiles* Auntie, don't you want to visit them in the Royal Palace?

MC's mother: ...

MC's mother: I am not sure if they would want to see me since I abandoned them the moment they were born.

MC's brother: Eh? But Auntie, wasn't MC aware of the reason?

MC's mother: ...

MC's mother: Would they have remembered?

MC's brother: Well... You do have a point. I mean, it's better than them having killed because of your bloodlust. Haha-

MC's mother: *feels saddened*

MC's brother: Sorry. By the way, why did you return, Auntie?

MC's mother: ...

MC's mother: I want to bid farewell to MC for the last time.

MC's brother: What?

MC's brother: ...

MC's brother: Are you dying?

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst leona #twst baby liora #twst baby aoife #twst ruggie #twst divorced au

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mrscarmenbearzatto · 3 months

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mama’s boy | carmen berzatto

content warnings: angst. donna insulting reader, mom!reader, carm and reader are married, carmen defending reader??, she/her pronouns for reader| content level: all ages, just be mindful of the angst.

summary: family dinner with the berzattos was never peaceful. until donna brings up your maternity leave.

“I don’t know. Maybe we should just.. not go.” Carmen offered as he held Winifred, or Winnie as you two called her, in his arms. A bottle pressed close to her mouth as she drank, with him lightly bouncing with her.

“Carmen, your mother has been calling and texting me all week asking what we plan on putting Winnie in. She barely got a chance to meet Winnie when she was born and I want her to at least get the chance to bond with her granddaughter.” You say as you cut up the vegetables for dinner.

Carmy lets out a sigh as he sits in one of the dining room chairs. “I just don’t want her to say something.” He mumbles. “She always says something, I just— I don’t want her to make you upset or say something insulting to Winnie.”

You turn the heat down on the stove, walking over to Carmen, placing your hands on his shoulders. “We can always leave. I just think it’d be nice for you and Winnie to see your family. That’s her family now, too.” You say softly as you stand behind him, gently scratching his scalp.

He leans his head back, looking at you upside down. “How’d I ever get so lucky to have you?” He asks. You press a kiss to his lips, smiling. “You have spit up on you.” You say softly, walking back over to the stove.

───

So far, nothing major had happened.

You'd been at Donna's house for nearly an hour and no comments, remarks or anything had been made. In front of Carmen, anyway - who was now in the living room with Pete, Richie, Fak. While you, Sugar and Donna stood in the kitchen, with you shaking up a bottle for Willow.

"So, when do you go back to work?" Sugar asks. "Two weeks. These past two months have been going past so fast." You answer with a smile. Thankfully, your job was flexible and let you work from home so you could handle Willow while Carmen went back to work.

"You still aren't back? Hm. When I had my kids, I was back to work after a week." Donna comments. Sugar quietly whispers a "mom" to try to get Donna to stop before she looks at her. "What? All I'm saying is, women now-a-days are just so.. lazy. They don't want to work. Your baby doesn't need you for three months, put her in a daycare." She scolds.

You stand there for a moment, processing before you quietly excuse yourself and exit the room. You went over to Carmen. "I'm gonna go feed Willow." You say, gently taking your daughter into your arms, lightly bouncing her.

Carmen knew that look. He'd worn that look before. His mom had said something. He waited until you were down the hallway and he heard the faint click of the guest bedroom to go into the kitchen. "What the fuck did you say to my wife?" He asks, his tone angry.

"Carmen-" Sugar begins. "No, Nat. What the hell did she say?" He demands. "All I said was I was shocked she isn't back at work yet. I went back when you guys were less then two weeks." Donna answers as Nat takes a step back, standing by to de-escalate.

"Ma, it's none of your business. She isn't you! She knows what's best for her body, it's not for you to try to debate." He says. "Carmen, do not raise your voice at me."

"Do not comment on my wife's decisions." He responds. "You're being very overdramatic, Carmen." Donna rolls her eyes. "She's my wife, and I'll be as dramatic as fuck for her." He says, before he turns and walks out.

───

He slowly opened the bedroom door, finding you on the edge of the bed. The half empty bottle beside you, a small towel thrown over your shoulder, with you gently rocking Willow. "Yeah, I know. You and I are both kinda new at this, huh? But we're learning." You spoke softly.

He steps in, smiling. "Hey. You okay?" He asks in a hushed voice, sitting gently down beside you. You nod, smiling at him. "Are you alright?" You ask in return.

He nods, placing a kiss on your head, wrapping an arm around you and stroking Willow's cheek with his pinky. "We're all good." He says, eyeing the bottle. "She's eating more." He points out.

You nod. "She's doing better at it." You reply. "Of course she is. She has you as a mom and you're the best mom out there." He says. You peck him on the cheek, laying your head on him.

"I love you."

"I love you, more."

#maeberzatto #mae writes!#mae writes: the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x fem reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #sydcarmy #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you #the bear #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x reader

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apomaro-mellow · 10 months

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Steve’s parents are in a cult and sacrifice him for their own gains. Yall can thank @whoevenknowsdude for giving me the motivation not to give up on this version.

The party was going on as usual. Steve had been to many of them before. The earliest he remembered was being five and led around by his mother’s hand, then eventually being handed off to a nanny for the rest of the evening. It was always some sort of parade. As a young child, he was the cute baby version of his father. Something for the women to coo at.

Around 11 he was a growing lad who was expected to cause a little trouble. Then at 14 he was a young man with a promising future.

Growing up, there was one part he was always dreading. The point where people tried to set him up with their daughters, or granddaughters, or nieces. He heard pieces of such transactions all the time.

‘Oh you must meet my daughter.’

‘You know Celia is about your age...’

‘So have you got a girlfriend?’

Steve caught glimpses of the older boys either politely rebuffing or ending up engaged with someone. This was a very insular crowd, he knew that. Still, he hoped he’d have something resembling a choice when the time came.

And yet, as he got older, no one rushed to introduce him to anyone. It confused him to no end. He had no trouble attracting girls at school and all of his parents’ friends thought he was charming. He came from good stock. Why did no one want him to marry their daughter?

He tried not to feel so offended by it. But it was just so bizarre.

But back to tonight. It was going like it always did. Steve spent most of it by his parents’ sides, only occasionally going off on his own. He made nice conversation, had a drink or two, despite being nineteen, and kept the Harrington name good and golden.

As the hour got late though, it got to the point where most of the men split off to have cigars. Steve was usually excused at this point but this time his father put a hand on his shoulder and led him to the next room. He took part in more conversation about his prospects (not going to school but who needed to when he was planning on succeeding his father) and drank some brandy.

“Steve, it’s time we discussed your future”, his father said, letting out a puff of cigar smoke.

“What about it...exactly?”, Steve asked.

“That sometimes we must defer to a higher power.”

“....Right...”

“Steven”, one of the other men started. “You ever take one for the team?”

“Yeah, plenty of times. But what are you guys talking about what’s going on?”, Steve asked.

“Come with me, son.”

Steve got up and followed his father. The other men came along down the stairs into the basement of the clubhouse. But then it went deeper.

“History is filled with ambitious figures, Steve. People who did whatever it took to reach their goals. Tonight it’s up to you to take us even higher.”

“Up to me? What do you want me to do?”

They came to the bottom of the stairs. His mother was already waiting, along with the other women. There was a large stone slab with restraints on it and Steve felt his stomach drop at the implication. But he didn’t want to believe it. It was too crazy.

“Mom, Dad...what are we doing here?”

“The higher power we worship will give us fortune beyond what we could dream of”, his father said. “But everything has its price.”

Before Steve could utter another question, he felt hands on him, gripping and pushing him towards the slab. He struggled and screamed for both of his parents. For some kind of explanation. For something that made sense. But he could feel his sanity slipping as they got him on the altar and tied his limbs down.

Lawrence, 50, with an unconvincing hairpiece stood over him. Steve never liked Lawrence. He always looked at him weird and his touches lingered like he was inspecting a piece of meat.

He was doing it now, trailing a hand up his tied up arm.

“I can’t thank you enough for your sacrifice, Steven. And your parents for bringing up such good stock. I have no doubt he will be pleased with you.”

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on but there’s no way you’re going to kill me for-for what? More money?”

His mother came into view, her expression mournful and Steve wanted to vomit.

“Steve, my love, we won’t be killing you. We could never do that. We just need a bit of your blood. After that....well after that....”

“Our lord will do what he wants with you. And with their lot I can only imagine he will want to devour your soul”, his father finished.

“So you are killing me.”

“We won’t be dealing the killing blow”, his father said. “And who is to say you won’t survive?”

Steve took a deep breath through his nose. This was insane. But it seemed like they at least didn’t plan to put a stake through his heart. He’d lose a bit of blood, they’d probably chant, and then when their demon lord didn’t show up, he could get a shower and then maybe disown his parents.

That didn’t make this situation any less shitty though.

Then someone ripped open his jacket and shirt, exposing his chest. Both of his parents were given knives. The knowledge that they didn’t intend to kill him quell that instinctual fear. Steve had always been a good kid. But sometimes good wasn’t enough. Sometimes he wondered if his parents regretted having him. So his current view wasn’t helping at all in that regard.

They both cut a slit right in the center of his palms and he hissed. They then took his blood and drew a symbol on his stomach.

There was indeed chanting but between the alcohol, his bleeding hands, and the general delirium, Steve couldn’t make it out. God, he just wanted this to be over. He just wanted normal parents who didn’t sacrifice their own son to the devil. He wanted a lot of things but it seemed like life would disappoint him one last time.

“Whoa! You’ve got a real party going on here”, a voice said, coming down the stairs.

“Who the hell are you?”, one of the chanters demanded.

Steve craned his neck to see....some guy. It was just some guy, in a black tank top and ripped jeans.

“Who? Me?”, he came to the bottom of the steps and looked around. “Was I not summoned? I thought I heard my name.”

“Someone get this fool out of here!”

“Oh, I see what the issue is. I’m not in the proper attire. My bad.” He took a few more steps forward, right into the range of the men who had advanced on him. Then flames erupted from his body, burning them in an instant. When the fire dissipated, Steve let out a gasp and started to actually pull against his restraints.

This was real! Fuck this was real! A real demon with horns and claws and fangs and shit-were those wings?! He had to get out of here, even if that meant ripping his hands and feet off to escape.

Turned out that was the wrong move. In seconds, the demon crossed the room on all fours and climbed atop the slab to hover over Steve.

“My lord”, Steve’s father said in an impressively even tone. “We offer you our greatest sacrifice-” He was cut off with a deep growl, one that Steve felt in his bones, being this close.

“You...haven’t...sacrificed....anything.” The demon turned its gaze to Steve, lying under him. “But you still have so much to give.” He touched a clawed hand to Steve’s stomach where the bloody symbol was. “Will you give it to me?”

Steve let out a breath. He was going to die. He was going to die and what did he have to show for it? Actually....what did he have to show for it if he lived tonight? Maybe it would be painless, this soul sucking. He just wanted to be done.

“Just take it”, Steve said. “Take whatever you want.”

The demon laughed darkly. “I always do.” He smeared a clawed hand against Steve’s torso, messing up what was drawn there. He sniffed his hand and let out a sigh.

“Steve!”, his mother shrieked and he wondered if she had just realized what she was giving him up for.

“They spilt your blood for their own gains. Now to me, that doesn’t seem fair”, the demon said. “Don’t you think they should have to give something up? Don’t you want them dead?”

Steve dared to look the demon in his face. The eyes betrayed nothing. Just a blank, red void. But there was something about his expression anyway. Something in the quirk of his lip, the tilt of his head. Steve wondered if he actually would kill everyone in this room if he asked. As for himself, well, despite everything Steve couldn’t ask that of him. He really only wanted one thing and this might be his single chance to voice it out loud.

“I just want to be free.”

“Now see here”, Lawrence said, wagging a finger. “We have been your loyal servants. Our wishes-cckhk!”

He was cut off when the demon’s tail wrapped around his neck, dragging him closer. The demon brought him over until they were eye to eye.

“I would go ahead and count the blessings I already have. You all get to live another day.” He dropped Lawrence, ignoring his gasps for breath as he looked back down at Steve. “And you’re coming with me.”

Flames swirled around them but Steve didn’t feel any heat. Just a rush of warm wind as his restraints disappeared. The light got too bright though and he closed his eyes. When he no longer felt the light behind them, he opened them up, expecting the fires of hell, or a dark abyss of a pit. Maybe even some combination of the two.

Instead he found that he was in a….cramped apartment. The demon was back to the tank top and jeans and Steve wondered if someone had slipped something into a drink.

“You live here?”

The demon stuck his hands in his back pockets. “Whenever I come topside, yeah. And for the time being, so do you.”

“Me?”

“Don’t tell me you wanna go back to those assholes. Not after they-” He stopped speaking and his nostrils flared. Then he looked down.

Steve followed his gaze and saw that his hands were dripping blood onto the floor. “Ah, shit, sorry I-” He was about to wipe it on his ruined shirt when the demon grabbed a wrist, freezing him in place. His words were caught in his throat when the demon took a long sniff at the blood still slowly dripping out of his palm. He looked Steve in the eye as he slowly licked it clean. When the blood was gone, Steve saw his hand was completely healed.

The demon took his other hand and did the same, but somehow went even slower. The licks were punctuated with what could have been open mouth kisses but Steve wasn’t sure. Either the demon was making out with his hand or trying to eat him with little success.

When that one was finished, the demon looked at him and Steve was taken with how blown his eyes were. Like Steve’s blood was top shelf.

“B-buy a guy dinner first, huh?”

The demon came back into himself and took a step back, releasing Steve’s hand. “Yeah, sorry it’s just-yeah…” He cleared his throat and then turned, going deeper into the apartment. “So my home is your home, until you figure out exactly what you wanna do. Um, bathroom’s over there I’m sure you wanna get the rest of that blood off.”

He looked almost nervous to have Steve here. And the absurdity of that made Steve let out a chuckle. And then everything came crashing down on him and he started to laugh in earnest. The demon’s anxious stance just made more laughter bubble forth. What the fuck had his life become?

“Are you okay?”

“I just realized why none of them wanted me to date their daughters.” Steve pushed his hair out of his face. “They knew they’d be giving me to you.” As he laughed the tears started to fall. The demon looked even more shocked but then he came over and wrapped his arms around Steve.

“I don’t know why I’m laughing. Or why I’m crying.”

“Because it’s fucked up man. Like hilariously fucked up. And sometimes you gotta laugh about that crap.” The demon pulled away just enough to look Steve in the eye. “But you’re better than what you just left behind. You proved that by letting them live.”

Steve wiped at his eyes. “Well you already burned a couple of them. Wait, you killed them!”

“Collateral damage when I let my flames loose. I don’t like being touched.” He seemed to realize he was doing just that and raised his hands in the air before taking two steps away from Steve.

“I don’t even know your name. And you would’ve actually killed them for me?”

“Oh I go by Eddie nowadays.” He turned and looked like he was trying to make himself busy by picking things up and putting them down.

“Eddie? Just Eddie?”

“Short for Edifice. Um, did you want that shower?”

“I….” Steve still had questions. But he felt barely functioning right now. Like if he got one more bit of information his brain would explode.

“Steve….You’re free now. That was what you asked for.” The demon, no, Eddie, his name was Eddie, was smiling at him.

“I want….to go to sleep.”

Eddie started to walk away and Steve followed. He led him to a room where the bed took up most of the space.

“It’s yours for tonight. And tomorrow, well it’s all up to you now.”

Steve collapsed against the bed. He vaguely registered his shoes being taken off but soon fell into oblivion.

Part 2

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #i have a whole lore in the back of my head #about how eddie is essentially 911 for summoning #but we'll get into that in part 2

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thewriterwithnoplan · 3 months

Text

THE HIGHEST TOWER (1/2)

Summary: As a Princess of the Realm the chance to escape political marriage and abscond with your Promised was beyond anything you could wish for. When the time is right, your dragon will lead you to them and your mother will support your union. In return, you must do all you can to protect her claim, even if you must do so from within the very heart of the Greens.

Soulmate AU: Your animal familiar leads you to your soulmate.

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Reader (eventual), Aemond Targaryen x Reader (mentioned)

Word Count: 4296

Warnings: Canon typical warnings, swearing, just general character awfulness, some espionage, canon divergence, my first time writing for hotd.

Masterlist

You had lived the better part of eight and ten years in the Red Keep. The daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen handed off to the Queen like some paltry trinket. The King’s first and final word on the matter of his granddaughter. Thrust carelessly into Alicent’s care at the fresh age of ten, a peace offering and a trade for Lucerys’ life. You scarcely remembered life beyond the borders of the castle. Only that one moment your brother's life had been under threat and the next yours was all but forfeit.

Your mother had clasped the back of your neck, pulled you toward her and begged her father for mercy. You who had not even been in the room when Aemond had lost his eye, lost to your own midnight flight atop dragon back. And then the curtain of Rhaneyra’s hair parted, and from over her shoulder Daemon met your eyes. For a single poignant moment, he stared and then a smirk broke across his face as if he knew.

Knew that you were not the innocent that your mother would have the King believe you to be. Knew that your midnight rendezvous with your dragon at the exact moment of Vhagar’s claiming was not mere coincidence. Your intentions had been innocent at first. A trip to the kitchen for a cup of milk which you would warm on the stove – a feat the late Sir Harwin Strong had taught you. Past your brothers’ room, your mother’s room, the servants' quarters and a balcony overlooking the beach. And then you had seen him. Aemond scaling your cousin’s dragon. And that just wouldn’t do.

Targaryens – true Targaryens who did not cower under the cover of darkness – needed their dragons if they had any hope of finding their Promised. Your cousin, Baela who always shared her sweets and let you borrow her wooden sword, deserved the chance to meet her Promised in the wake of her mother’s death. The man or woman that Vhagar would lead her to when the Old Gods saw fit. In the game of thrones when Targearyens already found so few chances for happiness, how could Aemond strip his cousin of her chance at true love? True, as an eldest daughter Baela’s future husband was most certainly decided – likely one of your brothers. But you were certain that Jacaerys or Lucerys would be understanding and gracious when the time came for Baela to claim her Promised, as she would be when the time came for her Lord-Husband. Such was the way of things. At least for the lucky.

Imagining your dragon, Laesuvion, claimed by another and leaving you with no guide to your Gods-given Promised made you feel ill. And so, you set out on bare, hurried feet to find and mount Laesuvion. You were a Targaryen born of the blood of dragons, of true Valyrian features. Vhagar was your cousin’s dragon by right and it was your duty to protect that claim. She was a formidable, indomitable beast but shackled with a new rider on his first flight. If you had one chance to disrupt the yet fragile bond being formed by dragon and rider, it was to dislodge the green boy and send him toppling toward the sea.

Laesuvion had hatched for you in your cradle. He was much younger and smaller than Vhagar but all the faster. It would be no trouble to fell your traitorous cousin. The difficulty became disguising the shock of white scales along the elongated arch of Laesuvion’s neck whilst searching for Vhagar’s camouflaged breadth.

“Aderī Laesuvion. Dokimarvose.” (Quickly Laesuvion. Focus.) You urged him.

Despite your efforts, you only caught sight of them twice. Once among the clouds, though you were sure Aemond got a greater view of you than you did him. And again, as Vhagar was returning to land Driftmark. Your hunt had been unsuccessful. But you had been sure no one would suspect you of such vengeful intent toward your uncle. Except perhaps Daemon.

“It is a fair price, Rhaenyra,” Daemon’s smirk was cunning, “They will not harm her.”

The betrayal on your mother's face heated your blood. How dare he tell her what to do? Your mother, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the iron throne. This man who was no one, husband of no one, Prince of nowhere, heir of nothing. Who was he to command your mother? And now, to step toward you and attempt to pry you away from her. So close you could almost-

Almost hear the two of them whispering. To each other. To you.

“Think.” Daemon hissed, “They will demand her for Aemond sooner or later.”

“She is my only daughter.”

“She will still be your daughter in the Red Keep.” He kept up the pretence of fighting your mother, despite her arms having gone lax around you. “Not a bastard. Not a bargaining chip. Your daughter. At the heart of the greens.”

“She is a child.”

“A Targaryen child.”

“She is my child.”

“Then let her prove it.”

“Mother,” You warbled. “I don’t want to go.”

“Tala.” Daemon shifted, and his eyes met yours again as if you should know this word. You did not. “You will go. Make your mother proud. Learn at court. Find those who support her claim and those who will side with the Hightowers. You are weak and a girl, they will not suspect you. When the time comes you will be our most valuable weapon.”

“But I want to go home, Kepa.” (Father or paternal uncle)

“Oh, my sweet girl.” Rhaenyra held your face and brushed away your tears. “You will.”

“’Nyra.” Daemon warned.

“But not today.” She kissed each of your cheeks. “Today you must be strong for me. You must be strong for your brothers. You must do as Daemon says, we must keep them happy.”

And then your mother pulled you toward her firmly, pressed her lips to your ear and whispered a promise. A reward should you embark on this mission. Beyond sweets and silk dresses and extra time on Laesuvion. Beyond anything you had ever been promised or ever dreamed of asking for. Do this for your mother and she would exempt you from the chains of political marriage that would shackle each of your brothers. There was no guarantee you would be lucky like your brothers, married to one who would understand. But do this and you could have your Promised under the eyes of the Seven, the Old Gods, and the traditions of old Valyria itself. Even at 10, you knew that for a Princess and a second-born, there was no greater boon.

So, you did what you had to do for your one shot to truly be with your Promised. You squared your shoulders, kissed your mother's cheek, and stumbled toward Queen Alicent. She gripped you by the shoulder, tucked you into the folds of her skirt, and stared cruelly down her nose at your mother.

“Now I will have no more fighting.” Said the King and having satisfied his wife for the first time in their long marriage, he ambled off to bed.

As the crowd dispersed, Sir Criston Cole flanked the Queen and as a unit, the three of you marched from the room. Your mother, scarcely held together in Daemon’s embrace, gave one last warbling cry as you passed the threshold and disappeared, not to be seen again for nine long years.

You were kept that night in the Queen’s own quarters to thwart rescue or escape. Behind a bolted door and no less than three kings’ guards. And yet, that morning, upon waking with puffy eyes from silent tears and aching limbs from the harsh sitting room sofa, you found something that had not been there before.

A gift from Daemond, most assuredly, tucked under the pillow you had slept on. The handle was perhaps an inch too long for your small age, but the blade was curved and wicked sharp and would require little finesse to cause harm. Inlaid in the pommel was a single ruby, the size of your thumb and wonderfully smooth. Carved into the cross-guard flowing Valyrian script read valar morghūlis. (All men must die.)

You would call the dagger gaomilaksir, duty. You would carry it as a reminder of the promises you and your mother had made one another. One day, as Daemon had said, you would become her greatest weapon.

There had been few bright spots in your life as the Queen’s ward. So, few in fact, that you could count them on one hand.

One.

You could not fly. Such a thing would only encourage escape back to Dragonstone and your mother. But you could visit Laesuvion and watch him sweep through the clouds. He had grown much in your teenage years. Still lithe in build and elegant in frame, but more angular like an arrow strung tight. He did not take to Kings Landing, not in all your years trapped there. So used to the comfort of Dragonstone and your family’s own dragons, he often abandoned the Dragonpit entirely. Kept tethered to the Keep by your presence alone.

“Where is Laesuvion?” You were just shy of ten and two when you approached the Dragonkeeper Acolyte.

“Hunting, my lady.” He knocked his quarterstaff against the ground. “He flew north not three hours ago.”

“Do you not offer him food?”

The keeper lowered his head, “He refuses it, my lady.”

“Offer him better.”

“We give him our very best, lady. He is a magnificent but stubborn creature.”

“He is a dragon, not a creature.” You conjured up a playful grin. “And I am a princess, not a lady.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” The Acolyte blustered, “Shall I inform you upon his return?”

“That won’t be necessary,” You strode to his side and plunked yourself down to lean against the stone entrance. “I shall wait for his return here.”

And so, you did. Silently, for the better part of twenty minutes as the Acolyte threw furtive glances your way.

Until finally, “Truly, my lady. Your Highness. He could be hours still.”

Wonderful. You thought and cast a dazzling grin up at him. “Perhaps you ought to keep me better company then.”

And so, you began your mission. You charm the Dragonkeepers – Acolyte and Elder, all seventy-seven of them – who knew the princes and their dragons, their strengths and weaknesses. You befriend the maids, the scullery, the wet nurses, and the servants they bunk with. Piece by piece, inch by inch, you win back your mother's share of Kings Landing.

Two.

Strange though she was, your Aunt Heleana always welcomed you into her chambers. In your shared youth, she always had a critter clutched between her hands as if it were the most precious thing she owned. You are four and ten, a year younger than your aunt when she is forced to split her time between her menagerie of insects and the chubby masses of her twin babes.

“The young prince has lungs,” You smiled at Heleana as the wet nurse rocked a wailing Jaehaerys. “He will make glorious speeches when he is grown.”

“Only one.” She examined the creature in her hands. Today she favoured a centipede, passing Jaehaera onto you.

You had long since learned to ignore her ramblings, “The sweet Princess must be the wordsmith, then.”

“The fourth in an age.” Heleana startled as if only just noticing your presence. “Apologies, Hāedar. You wished to speak?” (Younger female sibling or cousin)

“No apologies necessary, Mandia.” (Older female sibling or cousin). The Valyrian word tasted foul. You had your own siblings on Dragonstone, those whom you had been stolen from and those whom you had yet to meet. But Heleana liked it when you pretended that you were not a prisoner, that you were her mother’s daughter and not her forcibly attained ward. And so you swallowed it with a smile, “Might we talk privately?”

Heleana startled again as she turned to the wet nurse. “Take the children to the nursery, Bria.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Bria gave an awkward curtsy, shuffled the still-wailing Jaehaerys to one side and received Jaehaera from your arms. Heleana turned to you expectantly as the trio disappeared through a side door.

“It is a sensitive matter I am afraid,” You eyed the centipede as it escaped her hands and crawled across her skirts. “I do not wish to cause offence.”

Heleana’s eyes pinched at the corners, “It is not such a terrible burden – to be a wife. Mostly he ignores you.”

“You misunderstand me,” You hurried. “I only wished to speak of your grandfather.”

“Not my brother?”

“Do you wish to speak of your husband?”

“No,” Heleana gave you a quizzical look. “I speak of Aemond, who will be your husband.”

“Aemond?” Your uncle who’s selfishness had trapped you here. One of Alicent’s precious children married to her living doll. The thought would have been hysterical were it not so frightening. Surely not.

“It is the natural progression of things. I was given to Aegon and now you to Aemond.” Heleana’s attention returned to the centipede. “One pairing to strengthen our house, another to mend its bonds. So says grandfather.”

“Oh Mandia. I am entrusted to your mother. There need be no marriage to bring me into the fold. We are family.”

“Yes. So says mother.” Heleana stared. Not so blind as she seemed. “But grandfather always gets what he wants.”

And so, you are four years into your mission, having sat patiently by the Queen's side. Having listened and learned and noted those your mother can count on. Four years in and the time to begin quietly making moves had arrived with a head start from your oblivious Aunt.

But then you see the centipede crawl from her hands again and writhe across her skirt. And you think maybe Heleana’s warnings have more to do with where the critter is trying to lead her than it has to do with you.

Three.

It took you longer than you would like to admit to worm your way into Otto Hightower’s confidences – if there were such a thing.

You had quickly learned in your first year at the Keep that Alicent feared her father, distrustful of his greed and power lust. Not much unlike yourself, she had been sent into the greedy hands of a different house in pursuit of the Iron Throne. Were Otto not so blinded by his ambitions you might have begun to worry that Daemon’s strategy might ring familiar. But Lord Hightower’s strength was also his greatest weakness. So careful in his scheming, gently coaxing his will unto others, moving his pawns about the board, sacrificing all but himself, he could not see his tactics turned against him. Beyond your connection to Rhaenyra, you barely registered as a piece in the game.

Daemon had been right. Weak and a girl and not a threat. Not yet.

So, you worked tirelessly to endear yourself to Alicent. Just as you learned from her, you began to teach in turn. When you are in the room Otto Hightower dares not spin his lies about succession. When you appear around corners in search of your Queen-mother talk of hastening the king's condition ceases. When you are near, Alicent is safe. She begins to wear you like the expensive accessory you are, a decorative shield.

Hours trailing your Queen-mother to and from meetings of the small council, waiting patiently at her side as she sat in place of the King. Serving wine to fat and foolish lords.

And then finally, on the eve of your ten and fifth nameday, the Queen brings you along to the Hand's Tower.

“Father.” She greets.

“Alicent,” Otto brings you to his office, where a tea set for two lays steaming. “I see you have brought your shadow.”

The Queen barely glances your way as you serve her tea and then her father’s, before retreating to stand at her shoulder. She glares across her father’s desk, “This does concern her.”

“She is approaching her fifteenth year, two since her first blood. Time has well arrived for her to marry,” He stares directly at you then, “Have you any fondness for your uncle, Princess?”

“My lord, the Princes and I are often kept busy by our duties.” Your friends among the servants have divulged their schedules. You stay firmly away from drunken Aegon and selfish Aemond, remaining civil only with young Daeron.

“You must see reason.” Alicent implores her father. “They hold no affection for one another. Aegon and Heleana have already wed in the name of strengthening our family. To marry her would serve only to anger Rhaenyra.”

“And to bind her eldest daughter to us.” Interesting that he would say so openly in front of you. Perhaps you have been more effective in playing a Green than you had thought. “Aemond will be a good husband to her.”

“I have no doubt,” Alicent says and as silence stretches you suspect she is losing conviction; you have not saved her this time.

You clear your throat delicately, “If I may?”

“Of course, sweet pet.” Alicent reaches out to fuss with your hair. She likes it long and keeps its length to your hip despite how cumbersome it can be. Short hair is unbecoming, she claims.

You look to Otto in false deference, “My lord?”

“Very well.”

“I think,” You begin carefully. “Aemond and I may be of better use to you.”

“And how might that be?” He is condescending but you have his attention.

“When the time comes that grandsire passes on, I suspect the lords of the realm will need cause to back a claim to the Iron Throne. My Septa says that peace such as we have seen under his rule may bring unrest. I do not doubt that Aemond will make a fine and just husband. All I mean is that mayhaps it would be wise to keep us unwed until we may serve a greater purpose.”

No mention of your mother nor their ill-begotten plan for Aegon. Hightower's methods played against him.

“And when the time comes you will do this?” He demands.

“It is my duty to my house.”

He tilts his head as a predatory bird might. “You must swear it, to myself and to your Queen, upon your young brothers.”

To pause would mislay your ruse. To hesitate would be to sign your life away to Aemond Targaryen.

“I swear it, upon the lives of my brothers.”

He considered you for a moment, and then his daughter.

“You have done well with her, Alicent.” Your Queen-mother sighs as Otto Hightower stands. “Enjoy your tea, I have matters to attend to elsewhere. Perhaps you will be of more use than we originally suspected, Princess.”

Your first true victory. You will not be shackled to the Keep; you will be kept safe until your mother comes for you. Until such a time that you and Laesuvion can seek out your Promised.

Four.

The Queen held a strange fondness for you. Platinum-haired and purple-eyed, the spitting image of the Realm’s delight and perhaps the only trueborn among your siblings. She took pains to brush and braid your hair, dress you in green and flout you at court. Her perfect tamed Targaryen. Who would eat from her hand, take tea by her side, sit prim and silent as her Queen-mother decorated her. You were her walking-talking glimmering triumph over Rhaenyra.

At ten, Alicent’s obsession stole you from your mother. At ten and four, it protected you from a hasty marriage. And now, at ten and eight, it was your path to freedom.

“Mother?”

Oh, how Alicent loved it when you called her that. One more thing ripped from Rhaenyra’s thieving hands. Alicent pushed into your room with a tired facsimile of a smile and took the seat across from you by the roaring hearth.

“My sweet pet.” She was dressed head to toe in full regalia. “I am so sorry to have missed you today.”

You tucked a piece of scrap paper into the book you had been reading, buying yourself time to school your features into innocent confusion. “As am I. My door has been locked. I am sorry I could not come to you.”

“A precaution – one that I fought.” Alicent reached for your hair, running her fingers through its length. “But we cannot trust you to betray your mother. Regardless of the years you have spent in our care.”

“I do not understand, mother.” But you do.

“Your grandsire is dead.”

You close your eyes, “Aegon is king.”

“Yes.”

“You did not wish for this.”

“I wish Viserys were still a living corpse. That he would outlive us all so that none could claim his cursed throne. Not Aegon. Not Rhaenyra. Not my father.”

“That is not a solution.”

She tugs at your hair harshly, “Foolish pet, there is none.”

You blink harshly. Your eyes scarcely holding back tears. For the first time since you left your mother's embrace, you are truly scared. No longer are you the meek girl who walks in the Queen’s shadow. Given liberties and protection in a twisted echo of her love for Rhaenyra. You are a living embodiment of what House Targaryen will be to House Hightower. A pretty little puppet kept from your dragon, cloistered away like some trophy, scrambling for a scrap of power to delude yourself that you have some control.

“What is to become of our house?” You whisper.

“Your mother and Prince Daemon remain on Dragonstone. No blood has yet been shed.” Alicent brushed your hair softly behind one ear. “We have sent Aemond to Storm’s End to do as you once suggested. To offer himself to one of the Baratheon girls, that Lord Borros might see reason and acknowledge Aegon as rightful King.”

Good, there were those beyond the Keep who remained steadfast and loyal. It was time to return to your mother, then. To tell her all you had learned these last eight years. To name her allies and set Daemon loose upon her foes. Now was the time.

“What of my brothers?”

Alicent leant back, “Scouts have spotted Vermax flying north likely as an envoy to rally support among the lords.”

“How could they have mobilized so quickly? Was Aegon not crowned mere hours ago?”

“He was, indeed.” Alicent’s gazed into the fire. “The Lady Rhaenys was not so welcoming of solitude as you have been.”

“She has gone to Dragonstone?”

“She has.”

“And no one has come for me?”

“They have not.”

For a moment you each stared listlessly into the hearth. When Alicent shifts back to face you, she has a letter clutched in her hand. It is crisp and of fine quality but most strikingly, stamped with the King’s seal.

“I am under no delusions,” Alicent says softly, mournfully. “You can no more contest your mother's claim than I can Aegon’s. We are matching pieces in this game, I think.”

Your fear swells, “Mother.”

“Please, my sweet girl.” She smooths the hair atop your head. “You must do me one last favour as my ward.”

“I don’t understand.”

She presses the letter into your hands. “Jacaerys will fly first to the Vale, to treat with House Arryn and then to Winterfell. You will take this and beat him there. You will do as you swore to do those years ago.”

“I ca–”

“Listen!” She jerked you by your shoulders. “You must listen. You will wed Lord Stark. He is as fine a match as any. The north is loyal to Rhaenyra and will remain steadfast, you will be well treated. You must go, with this missive from the King, his final wish to send you north to snow and safety. In return for your hand, they will take no part in the fighting, they will protect you as their own, until such a time that the victor is crowned. Do you understand me, pet?”

“The King never cared for me.” You said foolishly.

“And yet, with his dying breath, he spoke of you and of Aegon. That you would carry his legacy, that you would see out his dream to the North. That Prince Aegon was Promised to this kingdom. You must believe me. You must do this for your grandsire.”

“I do believe you mother.” She was deluded. “I will do what must be done.”

Alicent has offered you one gilded cage for another. You will not be fool enough to fall into this one. You will find Laesuvion and be gone in the dead of night. You tuck the King’s missive into your book and smile at the Queen.

“Shall we call for tea, mother? You have much to tell me. I hear I have missed a coronation.”

Five.

You shape your fifth and final joy as the Queen Alicent’s Ward whilst escaping her clutches. You take three sharp detours on your path to the Dragonpit. First, to the chamber of the small council where you snatch the King's ball of quartz, you will make a gift of this to your mother. Then to the creche where the Keeper’s turned a blind eye as you pilfered three precious Dragon eggs. Finally, you find yourself ascending the steps of the Lord Hand’s Tower. To take the Dowager Queen from the Greens would be the greatest gift to your mother and her cause. But Alicent, despite her many faults, had been as kind to you as one might be toward a favourite pet. And so you do as a pet would – you do not bite the hand that fed you. Instead, you do both your Queen-mother and the woman that birthed you, a favour. You find Otto Hightower asleep in his study and you pass onto him your final gift from Daemon Targaryen.

You leave gaomilaksir in the heart of Hightower as you flee north, your duty complete.

(Part 2 : The Winter Keep)

#cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan x you #cregan fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon #prince jacaerys #lucerys velaryon #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #queen alicent #alicent hightower #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #otto hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen

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wileys-russo · 4 months

Text

baby’s first christmas II m.earps x reader

part of the a date to remember universe series

baby’s first christmas II m.earps x reader

"this is nice, isn't it?" you chuckled at your wifes words, the two of you cuddled up on the sofa watching a movie, well you were.

"is it? because you haven't stopped bouncing your knee, checking your phone and looking out the front window since delilah was picked up." you smiled knowingly, mary burying her face in her hands.

"i'm trying!" mary whined with a pout, sinking down further into the lounge. "she's with your mum mary she's going to be absolutely fine. you need to get over this anxious attachment love its going to rub off on her." you moved to straddle the keepers lap with an empathetic smile.

"i know i know. i just worry baby, she's so little." mary sighed, hands resting on your thighs. "she is and i know you are fiercely protective my love but you need to trust she's okay when shes with someone other than you or i." you ran your hands through her hair which was down for once, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

“you know one day she’s going to need to go to school, get a job, move out-“ your words were cut off as your wife practically tackled you down onto the sofa, covering her ears and yelling loudly to drown you out. “mary! you’re such a child.” you squirmed beneath her with a shake of your head. “she’s never ever allowed to grow up that is a disgusting illegal incorrect thought shes going to be our sweet little angel forever and ever!” the keeper warned sternly, pointing down at you with a menacing look.

“when?” your wife looked confused at the question. “what what?” she countered with a frown. “when did you learn to control time? you know normally that’s father times job, you might need to grow a beard or something to fit in. don’t know if I’d be into that babe.” you reached up to stroke her chin as she rolled her eyes and pushed your hands away.

“whose being a child now?”

"okay but in all seriousness it's her first christmas my love, this is supposed to be exciting!" you shook her lightly as she finally perked up. "okay okay mary slow down!" you laughed as your wife rattled off a million and one things she wanted to do with your daughter during the holiday season.

"oo when she gets back lets take her for a walk to look at some lights, and have hot chocolate, and watch a movie!" the keeper lit up as you nodded your agreement, tugging the taller girl down into a kiss.

"i'd also like to finish this movie if you'd sit still and stop stressing for another...hour and ten minutes." you chuckled checking your phone, marys mum due to drop delilah back off at five.

“you’ll go grey at your age if you’re not careful about your stress levels baby.” you teased, squealing as her fingers dug into your sides. “watch it, cheeky.”

to marys credit she sat mostly still, though as soon as the clock ticked five she was back into the routine of checking her phone and glancing out the window every thirty seconds, the bouncing of her knee shaking your own body which was curled up into hers.

"mary! for god sakes she's probably stuck in traffic or enjoying her time with her granddaughter." you snatched the girls phone off of her and slid it into your hoodie pocket, smacking her knee to stop it bouncing.

"you're being ridiculous, if anything was wrong we would be the first people your mum would call. now if you want to keep busy and get your mind off of it, go and get the rest of the decorations you've been promising me you'll grab in 'just a minute babe'!" you mocked, raising an eyebrow as the girl went to argue your point.

"yes love, whatever you say love." mary sighed in defeat, kissing your cheek and getting to her feet. "remember; happy wife happy life earps." you smirked as she flipped you off over her shoulder with a sarcastic smile, disappearing upstairs.

she returned a few minutes later with boxes piled high in her arms, depositing them onto the carpet near the tree as you dropped to your knees and started sorting through them.

"that was exhausting." mary complained as she collapsed onto the lounge. "baby you went up the stairs, into the spare room, into the closet, grabbed the boxes, came downstairs. you didn't even train today!" you laughed at your wife, though her chance to respond disappeared as the doorbell sounded and she was on her feet in seconds flat.

"hi julie!" you greeted the woman warmly as mary flung the door open, snatching delilah up and out of her pram cooing at her, completely ignoring her mum as you elbowed her harshly. "yeah hi mum." mary mumbled dismissively, attention completely locked on the squirming baby in her arms.

"would you like to come in for a cup of tea? it's freezing!" you offered, the woman thanking you for the offer but declining, giving you a tight hug and rolling her eyes at mary who waved but otherwise continued to ignore her.

"mary! that was so rude.” you scolded your wife, smacking her shoulder making delilah giggle once you'd put away her things. "oh did you like that bubba?" you cooed, punching your wife again and grinning at the adorable giggles that followed.

"oi! stop teaching her to be violent." mary warned, kicking you away with her foot as she hoisted delilah onto her hip and returned to the living room. "she can learn that from you sweary earps." you teased, earning yourself a filthy look.

"look at those! aren't they pretty lilah." you bounced delilah up and down as mary tickled her chin, both of you melting at the giggles which followed. "god she laughs at everything now!" you sighed happily, mary pushing the pram around as you wandered the streets looking at lights.

"i'm surprised she can even see given all those bloody layers you've got her trapped in, like a little burrito!" mary smirked as you pushed her with your free hand, delilah again giggling in delight. "its the middle of winter mary of course she's bundled up. don’t pretend as if you would have dressed her any differently and you've got about five layers on yourself!" you pointed out, your wife holding her hands up in the air unable to argue as she sipped on her hot chocolate.

at her request you swapped, you now pushing the empty pram as mary wandered beside you chattering away to delilah, pointing out house after house and trying to get her to speak. "say santa, santa!" you laughed at her efforts, the poor girl barely able to speak much more than a few words among her baby gibberish.

"babe i think my toes might drop off and her cheeks are quite pink, lets head back yeah?"

"oh that is so cute." mary squealed as you balanced a santa hat on delilahs head, the baby crawling about on the ground in front of the tree as you and your wife snapped a hundred and one pictures.

the three of you had spent the rest of the evening after dinner dancing around the house to christmas music as you finished putting up the rest of the directions, mary offering up for the two of you to host your families for christmas dinner this year which was sure to be an interesting experience.

"oh! baby i forgot have a surprise." you raised an eyebrow as your wife jumped happily to her feet with so much eagerness that she tripped on the edge of the carpet, racing off as you rolled your eyes. "mama is so silly sometimes! yes she is, yes she is." you cooed to your daughter who was sat up on the carpet in front of you with an adorably lopsided smile.

you snapped another photo of the santa hat perched on her head with her little candy cane pyjamas and sent it to both ella and alessia, getting an influx of texts back demanding more pictures as you rolled your eyes and tossed your phone up on the sofa.

between marys national and club team mates and your own friends and families there was already a small village of presents for delilah stacked under the tree, then add in yours and marys inability not to spoil her rotten and you'd needed to move half of them into the other room to save space.

"close your eyes please beautiful!" you heard your wife call out from another room as you did so, hearing her footsteps return to the room and the floorboards squeak a little as she sat back down on the carpet.

"hands out." she ordered, snatching up your daughter and sitting her in her lap as you hesitantly opened your palms. "baby its nothing bad! do you not trust me?" mary huffed at your obvious hesitance making a smile curl onto your lips.

"okay, open." you felt something round and smooth dropped into your hand as you opened your eyes again. "oh my god mary." you breathed out, the small golden bauble reading 'babys first christmas' in beautiful calligraphy.

"its perfect. i love it!" you sent her a soft smile, leaning over to reward her with a tender kiss, a pair of tiny hands wrenching their way between your mouths as you broke apart with a laugh, both of you attacking delilahs little face with kisses instead.

"i thought we could get her a new one every year and then when she's older she'll have all these little baubles and ornaments to pass down to her own kids." mary admitted as you could have melted into a puddle then and there.

“i love that idea. once she’s a bit older she can even make some of her own!” you tickled under the girls chin making her giggle adorably as both you and your wife swooned at the sound.

"not that you're allowed a boyfriend or a girlfriend or anything until you're at least thirty missy!" the goalkeeper warned the small girl seriously making you laugh. "lets get her to hang it before she goes down." you suggested, the two of you standing with mary holding delilah.

grabbing her tiny hand you held the bauble between your finger tips, guiding her hand to hang it on the tree. "perfect! just like you." mary blew a gentle raspberry on delilahs cheek who let out a tired giggle and a yawn.

"you're it! i put her down for her nap at lunch time." you patted your wife on the back and kissed delilah goodnight, collapsing back into the sofa as mary disappeared to put your daughter to bed.

you busied yourself making the two of you another hot chocolate before flicking through christmas movies as you awaited your wife to return. she did so a half hour later, having changed her hoodie as you grinned knowing exactly what that meant.

"load of washing tomorrow then?" you teased, the older girl mocking you under her breath and flopping down on top of you, her body laid out between your legs as her head rested on your chest.

"oh you know me so well." mary sighed happily as you selected the holiday which was forever her favourite christmas movie. “no quoting it word for word or you can sleep on the sofa.” you teased, carding your hands through her hair with a smile, mary grabbing a blanket off the back of the sofa and draping it over the two of you.

"our first christmas as mothers." the keeper beamed, moving so her chin was resting on your sternum and she smiled softly up at you. "the first of many baby, i love you mrs earps." you smiled softly.

"i love you more mrs earps."

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso #engwnt #mary earps x reader #mary earps

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starogeorgina · 5 months

Text

𝐔𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧

Paring: Aemond Targaryen × Targaryen OC, minor Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen OC

Warnings: Swearing, smut, kidnapping, sexual blackmail, self harm (overall dark themes)

Chapter: 1.01

Blood and cheese.

Fucking blood and cheese.

The destruction that blood and cheese caused would haunt Aemond until the day he died. He never meant for Lucerys to die; he thought at most his nephew would piss his pants and fly off home crying to his mother; instead, he indirectly set off a chain of events that couldn’t be stopped and was responsible for tearing his own family apart.

If Arrax hadn't breathed fire on Vhagar, then Vhagar never would have...

It was his fault.

Deep down, he knew that.

And now Aemond had paid the ultimate price. He took his half sister’s son away from her, and now the blacks have taken his sweet wife and unborn child from him.

Not only was the prince demented with fear of not knowing what had become of his beloved Viola, but his poor sister Helaena was forced to make the worst choice a parent could make and lost her firstborn son, Jaehaerys. He could never bring his nephews back, but perhaps he could still save his wife, if he ever found her. His wife’s dragon Stardust has been circling the keep, squealing loudly while looking for her rider since the day Viola was taken, and whenever the dragon went silent, a fleeting feeling of hope would cross Aemond's mind that perhaps she had returned, but that was never the case.

The prince’s fingers grip the leather arm rest of the chair tightly, and his knuckles turn white as his mind takes him to a dark place. Was someone mistreating his wife? Was she dead? He had been tracking the dates and had determined that his unborn babe should have been born two months ago.

“Prince Aemond.”

He stands when the king's hand approaches him holding an opened scroll in his hand, “grandsire.”

“I believe we know where Princess Viola is.”

“You’ve said that before,” he spits harshly. “And all it did was cause my mother more heartache.”

As soon as the words leave Aemond’s mouth, he regrets them; his comment wasn’t fair. His grandsire cared for them all but had a particular soft spot for his granddaughters. Aemond often had to remind himself that his wife being taken affected the rest of his family as well. His grandsire had used every connection he had to try and find Viola, while his mother had sent ravens to Rhaenyra, begging for her daughter's return.

“I’m sorry,” Aemond says. “Where is she?”

Otto nods, giving him a look of understanding. “Dragonstone.”

“Dragonstone,” he repeats. Could it be that she was so close to home all this time? The last time Aemond thought he had found his wife, he ended up burning Harrenhal to the ground. “How do we know this isn’t a trap?”

Otto holds up the scroll: “A raven arrived from Prince Jacaerys.”

Believing he’s heard everything he needs to, Aemond goes to leave but is stopped at the door by Ser Criston, who gives him a sympathetic look and pats his shoulder. “There are still things you need to know, my prince.”

—

You stare up at the ceiling, waiting for your uncle to appear. He always comes when the sun disappears and the sky turns black. On cue, the door to the room is unlocked, and your uncle walks in with a strut in his step. One of his hands had a tight grip on the head of his Valyrian steel sword, while the other dangled the key.

Knowing what his intentions were, you pull up your gown, spread your legs wide open, lick two of your fingers before bringing them to your clitoral area, and begin rubbing in a circular motion. This wasn’t about putting a show on for your abductor; you just wanted it to be over quickly. “Your cunt of a brother stole my wife’s crown, sending her into early labor, and your husband killed our Lucerys in cold blood. You are going to rectify those things by replacing what was taken from us.” Since the day the maester cleared you for sex again, your uncle has visited you nightly.

Daemon smirks, “Such an eggar girl, I’m starting to think you enjoy our nightly activities.”

You wondered if Daemon convinced himself that he doesn’t mistreat you so he could sleep better at night and find a way to forgive himself because he knew the gods wouldn’t forgive him for what he was doing to his own kin.

“Don’t stop touching yourself until I say so,” he orders.

You do as he says, thinking of Aemond as you touch yourself.

“Husband.”

Aemond looks up at you with a smile on his face. You’d been searching for him for hours, and you now feel silly for not searching the castle's library first. He often reads late at night before joining you in bed, but because of the stormy weather, you thought your husband might have gone dragon riding.

“You’ve kept me waiting.”

“Oh, I must have lost track of time; my apologies,” he says sincerely. He puts a bookmark in place, then sits the book on the small table beside him.

You walk towards him with a smirk on your lips. “It’s quite alright, my love, but I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

“Wha—”

By unfolding your robe and pulling up your sheer nightgown, you grant Aemond complete entry to your glistening cunt. He slides his finger along your folds gently, “so wet already.”

“I warmed myself up while waiting,” you tease.

Aemond kisses over your clothed body while sliding a finger into you, a smile pulling on his lips. “Well, I better not keep you waiting any longer, my dear wife.”

Daemon smacks your hand away, replacing your hand with his, and rubs at your clit until a moan slips from your mouth. He kneeled down and buried his head between your legs, bringing you pleasure with his skilled tongue. You hated yourself for enjoying the feeling of his mouth on you. When your walls start to clench, Daemon abruptly stops and unties his breeches low enough for his cock to spring out. He spits into his hand and strokes himself to complete hardness before sliding into you.

You wince at the stretch. Daemon wasn’t much smaller than your husband, but it always seemed to hurt when he thrust into you.

Perhaps that was deliberate on his part.

It didn’t matter how rough Aemond was with you; he never hurt you. Not once.

—

It doesn’t take Daemon long to reach his peak inside you, filling you with seed. Once he’s caught his breath, he begins to quickly fix his breeches. “You had tears in your eyes.”

“I’m surprised you noticed.”

He scoffs, “If it’s causing you so much pain, I can have the maesters bring tea; that will help.”

“I don’t want a tea to dry my milk up, uncle; I want to see my babe, Daenys, and feed her myself.”

He shoots you a cold glare and says, “No.”

You practically leap from the bed and press your back against the door, just as he reaches to open it. “Please, Daemon, please. You said I could see my daughter. All I want to know is that she’s safe. Please, please!”

“I said you could see her once you held up your end of the deal.”

When he forcefully pulls the door open, you are forced to move forward to let him by, and your body shakes with anger. “I’ve held up my—”

Daemon grips your face harshly. “The deal was that I would return the Kinslayers babe to you once you're pregnant!”

The single door to the room is slammed shut and locked, and you're all on your own again. Tears fall from your eyes as you move to the bed and curl up in the thin bed sheets. You felt like a fool when Daemon first took you as his prisoner. You sobbed and begged at his feet, promising to do anything it took to stay alive so that your unborn child could survive. And out of all the horrific thoughts that crossed your mind, you did not consider that he would force you into becoming a vessel, with the sole purpose of giving him another heir.

The only person who was kind to you was your nephew, Jacaerys. Sometimes he’d manage to sneak you extra food during the day, but mostly he’d sneak in to see you during the hour of the owl and would bring Daenys with him.

The few hours a night you got to spend with her made everything you suffered seem worth it, but it was never enough. The visits had become less and less, as Jacaerys was terrified of Daemon finding out. Your nephew promised he’d find a way to free you, but day by day, your hope of ever making it off Dragonstone was fading.

—

Aemond squeezes the sapphire necklace that he had made from his wife moons ago. It was his intention to give it to her on her birthday, but he never got the chance. Her eyes would light up whenever she got excited, and he imagined how they would look when she received her gift. He knew his wife would appreciate the sapphire carved into the shape of a heart. The sharp point of the bottom of the heart digs into his palm; the sting of it is the only thing that reminds the prince he is alive as he listens to his grandsire talk about his beloved.

“It seems Rhaenyra has slowly descended into madness, leaving the island under the charge of prince Daemon, who has deemed princess Viola his new— whore.” The pain and disgust in Otto’s voice was clear as he spoke of his granddaughter's fate. “Jacaerys states Viola has given birth to a healthy baby not long after she was taken, a girl.”

Aemond struggles to breathe as all the air is sucked from his lungs again. He had a daughter, a baby girl. Tears threatened to spill from his eye, but he squeezed the necklace harder to stop that from happening. It’s not until Aemond feels a warm liquid falling from his hand that he realizes he had held onto too tightly, and now he is bleeding.

Ser Criston notices but doesn’t draw attention to it; the knight clears his throat. “What does the bastard want in return?”

“For his mother's life to be spared,” Otto replies. “He even says he’d bend the knee if it meant saving her.”

“It could be a trick.”

“No,” Alicent says. “I don’t believe he would gamble on his mother's life. Rhaenyra’s sons love her; this we cannot deny.”

“Mother, I didn’t hear you come in.” Aemond's chest tightens with guilt when he spots the tears in his mother's eyes. “You shouldn’t listen to the details; it will only upset you.”

“Oh, my boy,” Alicent strokes his cheek, “we will get her back, the both of them. This I promise.”

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen/you #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon smut #daemon targaryen smut #Daemon Targaryen #Daemon Targaryen x you #daemon targaryen/you #Aemond Targaryen x oc #Aemond Targaryen x female oc #Aemond Targaryen/oc #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x fem oc #daemon targaryen/oc

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peach-m1lk · 4 months

Text

Girl Dad! Nanami headcanons

It's soft hours for Nanami, babes <3

It's also missing Nanami hours, babes </3

Nanami learns to do your little girl's hair through Youtube videos whenever you're not home to teach him how. Sometimes, they can be fussy and refuse to sit still but Kento has the patience of a saint and never, ever gets frustrated with them.

On his days off, he wakes up the girls and teaches them how to make pancakes. He smiles and laughs gently when they mess up the portions of the batter or when they accidentally burn one side of the pancake but he assures them it's okay- they're just children after all!

He understands that while he has a lot of money from his previous job as a sorcerer, he knows he can get top quality food and ingredients but sometimes he treats them to street food in markets or McDonald's when he picks them up from school because they're everyday things that every child should experience.

Speaking of his previous sorcerer job, he keeps them out of that line of life as much as possible. He's risked his life on multiple occasions before you two even got married, he's not about to lose his life or risk yours and your children's lives because of a curse.

Hates when people say things like "Wow, it must be rough living in a house with so much estrogen!" He hardly uses the word "hate" in any given circumstance but this is an exception. He calmly replies with "Loving my girls and my S/O is the best part of my life or any lives I could've lived."

As they're growing up, he can't help but feel sentimental at times. For example, at one of their birthday parties, he'll capture a picture of them surrounded by their friends and he stares at it with small tears in his eyes. Or when they walk the stage at their graduation and wave at him when they're handed their diploma. He holds a gentle and loving smile when he's swaying with them in his arms on their wedding day during a father-daughter dance- the exact same he did when they were born and he held them in his arms with tears on the verge of spilling.

And eventually when they move out, he shows up to their house holding your hand and helping you up the steps as he greets a little girl- his granddaughter- who's just as happy to see you two.

#Nanami my beloved #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento headcanons

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embrosegraves · 6 months

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ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕃𝕖𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕤

Charles Leclerc x Reader (implied she/her) Charles and Reader name their daughters the same order as the Leclerc brothers.

Mr Charles “Girl Dad” Leclerc

Warnings: Extreme use of the red heart emoji, IT'S SO LONG I'M SO SORRY, also watch out for Google translate lmao don't trust them to be exact

Still not the best at smaus but I'm working on it (between every 'post' will be a timeskip of an unspecified amount of time. my brain can't handle doing maths more than it needs to.)

instagram.com

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youruser Baby Leclerc Loading...

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yourBff I'm so ready to be an Aunty → youruser One of the best ❤️

user omgomgomgomgomgomg user Is it a girl or a boy? → youruser We're waiting until the birth to find out user GUYS CHARLES MIGHT BE A GIRL DAD

carlossainz55 Charles is gonna be out of a seat soon → charles_leclerc they're going to take your seat actually → youruser please don't encourage this, they aren't even born yet

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youruser As of Nov 8 2026, please welcome Lorelei Manon Haydée Pascale Leclerc ❤️❤️ Charles and I are so incredibly excited to share this chapter of our lives with everyone however we plan on keeping Little Lori's face completely hidden until she can tell us otherwise. We ask that you respect our decision and that you do not go out of your way to find out what she looks like ❤️

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landonorris Hey there Little Lori Leclerc → youruser ❤️

carlossainz55 Bienvenida Pequeña Belleza translated Welcome Little Beauty → charles_leclerc Uncle Chilli reporting for duty? → carlossainz55 Of Course!

leclerc_pascale When can I see my precious grandbaby❤️ → charles_leclerc I will facetime you Maman ❤️

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youruser Round Two LETS GO

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pierregasly Another gossip buddy!!! → youruser Our gossip sessions are about to be so much cooler!

user ANOTHER ONE!! → user ok dj khalid user are you waiting to find out the gender again? → youruser ✨oui✨ user please be another girl, i need charles to be purely a girl dad

maxverstappen1 this one will be in a redbull i can feel it → youruser oh god not you too

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charles_leclerc Papa and Manon Spa Night (so Mama can try to relax before baby is born)

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youruser you have mastered the towel turban my love → youruser Lori looks so cute 😭❤️

user Charles "Girl Dad" Leclerc coming in clutch → user he's in his element user be honest /youruser did you teach him the towel turban? → youruser i mean, not on purpose? he's watched me do it so often i guess he just, learnt??? user I love how squishy she looks MY HEART--

lilymhe this qualifies as Charles' official invite to Girls Night™ → youruser i'll add him to the groupchat lmao → charles_leclerc yeah babyyyyyy

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youruser And on October 17 2027, the world said let there be Charlène Madeleine Héloïse Pascale Leclerc ❤️❤️ Once again, we are so so so excited to share our growing family with the world. As we did for little Lori, we will not be sharing baby ChiChi's face until she can tell us otherwise. We are so grateful that everyone respected our wishes with Lori and we ask that you respect them once more. Love Always ❤️

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LeclercLorenzo Might be early but I'm sensing a trend... → youruser 👀/charles_leclerc → charles_leclerc a trend you say?? 👀

carlossainz55 Un'altra splendida bambina ❤️ proud of you guys translated Another gorgeous baby girl → charles_leclerc Grazie Fratello ❤️ translated Thankyou Brother → youruser Grazie Chilli ❤️

leclerc_pascale Another granddaughter to spoil ❤️❤️ → youruser I fear you'll put Char out of a job Maman 😂 → charles_leclerc you cannot spoil her as much as me! 😠❤️

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charles_leclerc My Precious Girls, how your Papa loves you

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youruser My Loves 😭❤️

user Another classic Charles "Girl Dad" Leclerc moment → user omg I saw them the other day and the way Charles looks at Lori and ChiChi 😍🥰 user Charles is so in love with his girls it make me feel warm and fuzzy inside → youruser makes me wanna have another lmao → user SO REAL FOR THIS → charles_leclerc oh? 😏😏

lilymhe Why can't we have this? /alex_albon → alex_albon our sons are literally your personal bodyguards... I can't even kiss you without their permission → charles_leclerc he misses you 😂😂

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youruser 3 is a magic number

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pierregasly Do you guys ever stop? → youruser who? → pierregasly you and charles → youruser no i mean who asked?

user has anybody noticed that the age gap between each leclerc baby is basically the EXACT same as the leclerc brothers? → user OMG I WAS GONNA SAY youruser before you ask lovey /user once again we're waiting for the birth ❤️ → user honestly at this point i think everyone knows it's gonna be a girl liked by youruser user Okay, they definitely have a theme going on here with Lorenzo and Lorelei, and then literally Charles and Charlène. this one is gonna be named after Arthur i know it

charles_leclerc One more after this? → youruser no <3

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youruser Say hello to our newest arrival, Artemis Marinette Helena Pascale Leclerc ❤️❤️ born on October 15 2030 For the third time, Charles and I invite you to meet our (now complete) family! Just as we did with little Lori and Baby ChiChi, Mini Artie's face will be hidden until she can tell us otherwise. Forever grateful that everyone is so understanding of all our daughters' privacy, thank you all so much! get ready to see a whole bunch of the Leclerc Sisters on your feed from now on❤️

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carlossainz55 I can't keep commenting in another language now, you used all three that I know → charles_leclerc sounds like a you problem mate → youruser be grateful we're only having three kids Carlos

sebastianvettel One more for the collection → youruser my daughters are not like your cars and their bond girl names → charles_leclerc i'll be honest, i did laugh a little

LeclercLorenzo Some might say I... called it. → youruser don't even, you knew when we told you about naming Little Lori → LeclercLorenzo let me live in my delusion

kimimatiasraikkonen 👍 → youruser never change Kimi ❤️

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charles_leclerc At least Mini Artie likes to kart 🫠❤️

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georgerussell63 I think it's hilarious that not even your mini me likes karting → youruser it is the funniest thing to watch as Char sulks because of it → pierregasly I can only imagine 😂😂 → charles_leclerc what is this, bully Charles day?

user Mini Artie is gonna carry on the family legacy → user can you imagine omg youruser come back home the kids miss you → user i had to double check that this was ACTUALLY the mother of his children liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, youruser and others user I see no one else has realised that all three of the girls birthdays are THE DAY AFTER the person they're named after. → youruser believe me, that wasn't planned ((it was harder to plan than it should've been))

youruser I love you so much Char. Best father, best husband ❤️ → charles_leclerc Je t'aime encore plus, Ma Chère. Best mother, Best wife ❤️ translated I love you more, My Dear

holy shit that was long jesus christ.

uhhhhhh hope you enjoyed? reblogs and likes would be much appreciated because this took me SO MUCH LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WAS GOING TO

#formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #reblog with tags i missed please and thank you

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deadsetobsessions · 6 days

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Once more the hallucinations hit, and once more I am here writing it out.

My brain is fucking terrifying and I want out, so bad. This came to me in the form of a nightmare.

Also, please don’t take the timeline into consideration, because I have no idea what’s going on. Again, nightmares and dreams tend to not have the best coherency when it comes to plot and timelines. The reincarnation doesn’t have a name, I was too busy feeling terrified. Shit in parentheses was how I experienced the nightmare. Everything else is just me adding sprinkle sprinkle.

——

Ra’s al Ghul.

Talia al Ghul.

Two names that she had been aware of, in the peripherals of her hyper fixation. Two characters meant to enhance the story of the Dark Knight. Side characters, on a good day. Perhaps, a main antagonist on a better day.

On a bad day?

Main characters. Real, living people. Real, living, breathing assassins.

Unfortunately, they’re her new family. One she remembered coming into, bathed in a pool of blood and screams.

She was not a baby.

She is now, a baby. The first of Talia al Ghul’s children. The eldest, once Damian al Ghul was born.

Swaddled in emerald green and gold silks, she was presented to a man with silver streaked hair and a receding hairline. He too, was robed in green and golds.

“A daughter, Talia?” He rumbled, the smooth Arabic flowing out of his mouth failing to hide the acrid disappointment. The child, past the haze of confusion of suddenly being deported from her own adult body into one of a helpless child, felt a stirring of irritation. It’s good she learned the language, because now she knew exactly how Ra’s felt about her. The child grumbled a displeased sound. Not that she would have ignored the fact that her grandfather was Ra’s al Ghul. (He smelled like moth eaten fabric and blood- but I think that was because my cat accidentally scratched me.)

“My apologies, father.”

“Do not tell the young detective of this. Had it been a son, perhaps things would have been different. No, a daughter would only hinder him.”

Talia bowed, hands tightening on her daughter. “May I raise her, father?”

“A resource is still a resource. Go ahead, Talia.”

“Yes, father.” Talia took the dismissal and bowed before leaving.

On her way back to the room with the reincarnation’s crib, Talia al Ghul stroked her daughter’s head.

“I wish you were born a boy, my daughter. I am sorry my beloved will never know of you.”

The reincarnation looked at her new mother. She’s young, the woman-child realized. A teenager.

“You’ll have to be useful, my daughter. Your grandfather is not so kind as to keep the useless. I… do not wish for your death,” her mother muttered.

Great. She got new life and it’s already in danger.

——

She learned to swing a knife. Swords. She learned and devoured the teachings. She learned to be useful.

But then they asked her to take the life of a man who did her no wrong.

Her baby blues clashed with her grandfather’s Lazarus green.

She was still young. A child.

“No.”

“No?”

“He did no wrong.”

“He failed, granddaughter.” Ra’s smiled down at her, patronizing. Cruel. “Perhaps you possess your father’s heart, and you are foolishly sentimental, as women and children tend to be. But in the end, you are an al Ghul and you will obey. Plunge in your blade and I will reward you.”

The reincarnation looked at the man kneeling in front of her, resignation and a hint of pity in what little she could see of his face.

She’s already died before. What did she have to be afraid of?

“No.”

They tried to beat the weakness out of her. It didn’t work.

——

The reincarnation stared at the mirror, left alone in an opulent cage of gold and emeralds and precious stones that meant little to her now.

Her hands traced her back, small fingers finding purchase in soft skin. Her mouth opened fruitlessly, noise refusing to escape. She still felt the burning magic, the brand her own blood had carved into her skin and soul because she refused to kill. The chains her grandfather had shackled around her with magic and cruel amusement.

She had killed him, in the end. Obey, or be punished. Her body had moved without her permission, the reincarnation a prisoner in a body that refused to do as she commanded. The knife swung, a life taken, her hands dipped in red.

She learned a valuable lesson that day.

There were things worse than death.

“This is an order, granddaughter.”

The Magic had flared a searing heat at her neck, forcing her to kneel on broken legs. Ra’s loomed above, authority in his voice. She was bound to obey, regardless.

“You will never speak another word of affection, you will never speak another word to anyone unless I allow it. Perhaps this will teach you of your folly, and your place in this world.”

The loss of her freedom and the fear that came with it was a bitter and devastating lesson.

——

Ra’s al Ghul was so much worse than what little she knew of him.

She was right to be afraid for herself.

Her mother had worried, when she’d withdrawn and refused to speak to her. Even if she could, the reincarnation would not have wanted to. The reincarnation had felt furious, back then, when she thought of Talia. Her mother who refused to protect her. Her mother, who claimed she loved her but refused to see the chains Ra’s wrapped around her neck. She who plied the reincarnation with a supportive hand but forced her into the fighting pits.

But, as the reincarnation stumbled out on bruised and used legs from Ra’s al Ghul’s meeting chambers where he had allowed his business partners to partake in her, she realized that Ra’s was a monster in a human’s body and her mother was a victim of his making.

The lesson Ra’s taught her that day was that if she was not useful, if she did not kill, he would take what was left of her and make use of her.

Hate flared in her heart, and the beginning of Ra’s downfall began the day he let her go from the chambers alive. Injured, but alive. Injured and violated, but alive and furious.

——

She carved her hate and rage and helplessness and fear in the bodies of the people he bid her to kill. Her silenced screams were expressed in the way she splattered blood, the way she covered herself in it. A killing machine first, a stress reliever second, and a child… wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to be.

His enemies were felled, one after another. He gave her his approval, something she detested.

But still, she continued, bodies racking upwards, tens turning to hundreds, hundreds edging into thousands.

The red in her ledger became ichor and guilt. Her language became violence and obedience.

“You have become a sharp tool, granddaughter.”

She was a genius, after all. And now, she could not disobey. A blade that Ra’s believed will never point towards him. She kneeled. She obeyed.

“Thank you, grandfather.” Her words were only allowed to come out- without searing, terrible pain- when she was thanking him. She tried not to do it as often as he wanted. He thought he broke her when he read the obedience she carved into her body language.

But she never bowed. Never. Not to him. Never.

——

“My weapon could learn much from your granddaughter,” David Cain sat across from Ra’s, wine in their stupid goblets. How she detested the green and blacks he’s seen fit to dress her with. She’s dressed provocatively, not of her own choice. She doesn’t have much of those- doesn’t have much in ways of choices- these days.

She was twelve, and Ra’s al Ghul deserved to die.

“Her combat is a higher form of what my daughter has achieved. How did you do it?”

When Ra’s began to reply, she slipped away.

She found the girl. She found… the cage- the black box- the child was placed in. The child flinched from her when she opened the metal box, fear only easing as the reincarnation kept her body language neutral and kind. (It was pitch black, and about the size of like, a closet. No light. Only from whatever door the box had.) (Cass’ hands hurt from banging on the walls to be let out)

David Cain’s daughter, her mind whispered, the memories of another life once more making itself known.

“Cassandra.” She whispered, regretting it immediately when pain wracked her body. She fell to her knees as the punishment for disobeying an order slammed into her.

The girl looked at her in concern, but did not move closer. The reincarnation stared at this girl and saw a reflection of herself.

David Cain would be here for a month. She will free Cassandra in those days.

——

The weapon stared at the girl in front of her, kneeling in pain.

She did not understand.

The girl came back. Water. Food. Kind.

The weapon felt warm. The girl was quiet. No sounds. Good. The weapon knew the girl understood. The weapon thinks that the girl is a weapon too.

The girl comes back, again. This time, she makes a sound. It hurt her, but she did it again. The weapon understands when the girl points at herself and repeats the sound. The sound means the girl. The girl expects something from the weapon.

The weapon makes the sound, flinching to see if the owner will come to punish it. The girl purposefully sits, relaxed but vigilant… and protective. Of the weapon?

The weapon relaxed. It repeated the sound, pointing at the girl.

The girl smiles, in pain. But approval. The weapon feels- the weapon is warm, like under the blanket. Approval.

The girl teaches her to make sounds but the weapon communicates without it. It does not like the sounds, does not need them, but the girl seems to think it’s important.

The weapon likes the girl, so the weapon learns. They still understand through no sounds, through reading each other.

The girl comes back, silently. Secretly. The weapon does not notify the owner. The weapon feels- does not want to.

The girl- the girl with the sound- she says a different sound. Her body tells the weapon that it’s important, this sound.

And when the girl points at herself and says her own sound, then points at the weapon and says that new sound again, the weapon begins to understand.

The girl had given the weapon her own sound.

“Cass—n- ra.”

“Cass,” the girl said, and Cassandra understood.

“Cass.” Cassandra pointed to herself.

The owner wanted- wanted Cassandra to end a life. Cassandra watched the owner kill and gesture to the dead thing.

Cassandra did not want to.

When Cassandra is placed back into the pitch black box, she waited for the girl.

The girl came.

“Don’t want.” Cassandra clung to her, reading the welcome and the sadness in the girl’s body. Cassandra tucked her face into the girl’s shoulder. She is cold. The girl is warm.

The girl hugged her back. The girl understood. Sadness hardened into lines of determination. Cassandra felt… light. Felt hope.

Cassandra slipped away from the place, water in her pack for the dessert and money to run from the country. The girl stayed behind, seeing her off. The girl tells her to never come back.

Cassandra did not want to leave the girl behind, but the girl could not go.

“Be free, Cass.” The girl had whispered through the pain. “For the both of us.”

——

Her grandfather knew. He allowed David Cain to break her, not kill because she was of use to him still, as a lesson. She found that she hated his lessons. But, she hated his attention more.

And still, she could not regret. How could she, when Cass trusted her with what fragile hope she had?

So, she lets him beat her, and provokes him with smirks and fearless eyes because the longer he’s focused on her, the more time Cass has to run.

Then, he gets too angry, and insults Ra’s, whose eyes grew cold. Her grandfather gestured and while she usually hated the command that followed that gesture, she could not feel that hatred now.

She got back up, legs broken and arms twisted once more, and attacked David Cain.

Ra’s would not follow Cass. Not when she was not his business to deal with, and not when David Carin’s fury amused him so.

David Cain would not follow Cass. Not while she still drew breath. The reincarnation stood, and threw herself at one of the best assassins of the century.

She tore his throat out with nothing but her teeth. She felt, for once, not like a monster. Not even when Ra’s nodded in approval and ordered for David Cain’s broken body to be cleaned up.

——

She’s been granted a mission in New Jersey, once her months of discipline- of torture- ended. She does not get ordered to find Cassandra. She’s fourteen now, and as silent as ever. Her mother had adjusted to her silence by then- long ago, actually, taking it as a quirk her daughter had developed. She hadn’t been a terribly vocal child, after all. Talia praised her for being useful even as a woman- the self degradation something the reincarnation had no doubt Ra’s had insidiously trained into Talia- and for being loyal to Ra’s.

Sometimes, she hates Talia for being- for-

Never mind. She couldn’t afford to hate anyone else.

She killed her targets early, determination and wistfulness urging her movements into sharp . Then, she made her way to Gotham and slipped into the city of darkness- where her father was.

She watched as he hid in the shadows almost as easily as she did. She watched as he flew and glided with the younger Robin. (He was younger than her by a year. She checked.) He was free. They were free.

She wished…

As she turned away, she saw a child tumbling from the edge of a roof. It was an instinct she’d thought Ra’s had managed to bury after the months he’d spent making sure she killed only children.

She hated him.

She caught him, swooping in and tucking him against her side as she plucked him from the air and plopped him back onto the crumbling roof of Gotham’s slums.

“Oh, thank you! So much- are you a vigilante?” The boy asked, looking at her masked face. It’s a good thing she wasn’t exactly dressed like a regular League operative.

She shook her head. Her eyes fell onto his camera, faint memories rising once more. She had an inkling-

“I’m- uh- Tim!” The boy introduced himself nervously, edging away from her silence. “Thank you for saving me…?”

She nodded. She pointed to the camera, tilting her head.

“Oh- you… want to see it?” He clutched his camera closer. Oh, he did have some sense of self preservation. She wondered why a seven year old was allowed to roam these streets… but she did worse at seven.

She held her hand up and back up. The boy hesitated, and then showed her the camera. “Uh- I took pictures of Robin and Batman!”

They sat on that roof for hours, and she let Tim Drake tell her stories about her father and his son. Ward. Son.

She could tell that Tim didn’t have anyone to listen to him.

She didn’t have long until she had to go back or risk severe punishment, but… she could make time for Tim, to listen to him.

She wondered if Cass managed to escape completely. She wondered if her sister all but in name and blood learned how to smile.

——

Tim had never had a friend before!

She listened to him! And gave him hugs the one time he was brave enough to ask! And she seemed to like Batman and Robin as much as he did! No one who didn’t like them would listen to his endless rambling otherwise, right? (Tim was super skinny, like ribs poking out skinny. He looked like a sickly Victorian child and he was kind of cold)

“And then, Robin went like this,” he pantomimed the awesome punch Dick Grayson did on a Joker goon. “And the guys got knocked out just like that!”

His new friend nodded, looking interested.

“Sorry, am I talking too much?” Tim asked anxiously. He didn’t want to make his friend hate him!

She shook her head, and gestured for him to continue.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

His new friend was so cool! She even taught him how to throw a punch and to fight!

——

When she had to leave, she prepared Tim for it.

“Do you have to go?”

She nodded and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Her other hand held a duffle bag with an assortment of weapons she carefully kept from him. (One of the blades still had guts on it, which, ew.)

“Try not to fall off anymore roofs, little photographer.” She said, smiling at his shocked look before leaping away.

“Wait, you can talk?!” He shouted at her back. She smiled a little wider.

——

“A son, this time.” Ra’s al Ghul’s voice echoed in his disgustingly flashy throne room. It rings of approval.

The reincarnation stood behind her mother, eyes cast downwards.

“Well done, Talia. I finally have a worthy heir.”

Damian al Ghul cooed.

The reincarnation was scared. But… she could not allow her younger brother to be trapped like she was. She’s fifteen now, a decade of slavery having worn her down and nearly broken her. But with her brother… no, she could not allow it.

She met her mother’s eyes and knew then that they agreed. Protect Damian, at all costs.

She ignored the sting of envy. So what her mother could not find it in herself to protect her daughter? So long as she protected Damian, it didn’t matter.

Maybe she didn’t matter. Maybe she wasn’t worth anything. Maybe- maybe- maybe.

She also ignored the seed of disgust she had for mother’s actions in conceiving Damian. She couldn’t do anything about it. Talia was also a victim.

A louder voice in her asked if she could really excuse that, when Talia had a choice and she chose to hurt and violate Bruce Wayne like that. She wondered if she could truly ever forgive Talia. She wondered if Bruce Wayne got therapy.

——

She stared at the tome in front of her, eyes blank. (Actually, she had no eyes. Like? Empty sockets, but then later she had eyes???)

The brand- the shackles- the chains could only be broken if Ra’s died. She wasn’t opposed to that. But if he died, so did she. She couldn’t even kill herself to get out, because the chains would be there even if she died. If she was revived- a high chance, thanks to the fucking pits- then the chains would still be there.

Perhaps… she could use the pits?

Her mind turned and turned.

——

“This is your ukht.” Her mother pointed at her. Damian stared up at her, and she melted. Her brother was too damn cute.

“Ukhti?”

She nodded as her mother smiled in joy. “Yes, habibi.”

She was better at hiding the pain, now. She was better at enduring it, too, that fucking burning feeling. She spoke more, but only to Damian.

It would not do for her brother to grow up not knowing how to receive verbal expressions of affection. Not like she did, in this life.

Still, it hurt to speak. But then, she had an idea, based on Cassandra.

She could not speak, but speaking wasn’t the only way of communication. She’ll teach Damian sign language- standard, as commanded- but also her own version. Yes, she could do it. It wouldn’t be hard.

She was a genius, after all, and creating languages wasn’t as hard as people seem to think.

——

Damian copied her, small fingers patting his hand four times.

She did it back to him. “I love you.” She tells him, with sounds and with motions.

He does it back, excitedly, because he had a secret with ukhti!

——

Sometimes, she dared not to touch Damian. She wants to ruffle his hair and give him hugs but the ichor on her hands reminds her to not get to greedy. She did not deserve it.

Not when her hands were stained with the lives of so many people.

——

Another mission.

She was twenty now, and not much closer to escaping her bonds. Though, once she hit her majority, Ra’s lost interest in her in that way. A blessing, even if she had to seduce his “business partners” into giving him better deals more often now.

She stops by Bludhaven. The Robin she watched so many years ago- six, by her count- had grown new wings and moved. She wanted to see if he could fly still.

He could. He flew as free- no, freer than his days as Robin.

She dipped away to complete her mission (nuclear weapon trading, really?) and swings back to see a spider trying to break the former Robin’s wings.

“No.” Nightwing whispered, staring upwards at the cloudy sky blankly. “Please, stop.”

She didn’t need to hear any more. She saw red, and dove feet first straight onto the spider’s head, knocking her out.

She picked up a near-catatonic Nightwing, and helped him to his apartment. She left Tarantula in the rain and felt zero guilt about it.

He changed mechanically, some kind of instinct keeping him from removing his domino, but it was a bit pointless considering she escorted him to his personal apartment.

She watched as Nightwing slipped into an exhausted sleep before leaving. She had a spider to squish, and traces to hide.

——

Dick wakes up, drained and exhausted. He… someone saved him.

He sees a scrawled note, handwriting impeccable enough to be a font, written with his pen. He picked it up from his table, and his eyes tiredly read the message.

“Don’t worry about Tarantula. Or your identity.”- A friend.

He remembered- the mask- the mask of the stranger that saved him vividly. He’d remember. And he’d thank them if they ever came back.

——

She was in charge of training assassins, these days. A year and a half later after Bludhaven, she was back in Nanda Parbat, and she’s devoured every magical tome she could get her hands on. They all say the same things.

Her assassins were trained well, and Ra’s praises her with more responsibilities as he followed the pit in his obsessions. Her mother began to splinter the group, not knowing that as Ra’s began his descent into madness, people looked towards her instead of Talia for leadership. They did not know that her unwavering presence by Ra’s side wasn’t voluntary but it is their true that she became his right hand out of pure skill. And flawless obedience, of course.

Then, someone new joins.

Someone with pit rage and empty eyes that goes rigid when she approaches.

Then again, most of the operatives freeze up when she walks towards them.

Her memories roar. A child.

He bowed, and her eyes followed the streak of white hair at the forefront of his skull.

She gestured at him to follow, and ignored the pitiful eyes the rest of the assassins gave to the kid- they act like her training was hard when she went easy on them (it was)- and led the kid towards the training rooms.

She knew who he was, even if her grandfather and mother didn’t think she knew.

Her… Bruce Wayne would probably appreciate his son being returned relatively sane.

But first, she had to beat the Pit out of him. Then, she could assign body guarding duties to him, in an attempt to protect him.

——

“Grandfather, I will take Damian’s punishment.”

“A whipping girl, granddaughter?” But he nodded anyways. He made Damian watch.

She kneeled and allowed the punishment. She couldn’t always protect him from Ra’s, but this she could do anytime. It’s not like she was unfamiliar with the torture. (The whip had barbs. Rusty. And they sprinkled salt.)

——

“I liked poetry….” Jason Todd tells her after a training session. “I think.”

“Sure. I’ll call you Grave, then.” Pain. But she was used to it.

He tilted his head, eyes going blank once more. She sighed. There went his memories again. (His eyes were blank and glazed. Like looking at someone you love and knowing they’re looking through you.)

——

“I would not trust her,” she says to the air, next to a Red Hood emerging from Talia al Ghul’s chambers. She could see it, the beginnings of Gotham’s new crime lord. But still, “Talia al Ghul is known for her lies.”

She pushed away from the wall. It was up to Grave if he listened. It was out of her hands now.

——

She’s twenty-five, and she’s helping Damian pack for his first meeting with Bruce Wayne.

“You must not tell him about me.” Because he’d come rushing here, and she had worked too hard to save Damian for her fool of a father to come and ruin all of that effort.

“I promise.” Her little brother said solemnly. Ukhti said it out loud, which meant it was important and she expected him to keep that promise.

The only other time he’d heard her speak was to tell him she loved him.

The reincarnation smiled and told him through their special sign language, to treat the current Robin with respect and to try his best to get the current Robin to pass down his title.

‘Robin is earned. They have different rules, over there. Try your best to learn those rules.’

Her brother was sheltered. She loved him, but he was spoilt and sheltered. Of course she was worried. Talia barely mothered him.

“I know. You do not have to remind me so often, ukhti.”

She smiled, and patted his head.

“Be safe,” she whispered. “I will miss you.”

Damian darted in for a hug. “Of course. Goodbye, sister. See you soon.”

She hoped not. It was hard enough to convince Ra’s that Damian would learn more under Bruce Wayne.

(She was locked in a small closet- like Cass- for about a week, because she brought up the idea first.)

——

She found it.

The answer to pit rage laid in an old, all but crumbling tome from Atlantis- answers “from a ghost.”

——

Bruce Wayne died. Months after Damian came to live with him. That- irritating- she sighed and worked with her mother to turn Ra’s al Ghul’s attention away from Gotham, lest he called Damian back in Bruce Wayne’s absence.

The little photographer caught grandfather’s attention. She stood vigil as he played chess with Ra’s. His interest in Damian wavered. Anticipation blurred in her veins.

She saved his friends. Her assassins. She let them go, telling them to wait for the little photographer’s plan. (Y’all miss girl had fucking bloody handprints on her pants like someone tried to grab it.)

The first few people who had an inking she might not be loyal to Ra’s… and it was them.

When her other assassins attacked Red Robin, she cut them down before they could touch him, helping him with a furious League of Spiders or whatever operative. She hated spiders.

“What…?”

“You’re a lot of trouble, little photographer.” She sighed. His jaw dropped.

“It’s you!”

“Go,” she cut him off. “Blow this place up. I left a surprise for you outside.”

——

“Owens?! Z?!” Tim trembled, exhaustion and shock and wonder hitting him at once.

“Heya, boss!” Z chirped. Owens helped Tim up while Z helped Tam. Pry walked around them, looking out for further threats. “The nightmare trainer let us go. She knew you, I think.”

Tim smiles, all shark teeth and zero hero. (In the background, the song zero to hero from Hercules 2, played in reverse.) “Tell me more.”

——

Damian grunted, bracing himself for the magical creature’s attack.

“Robin!” His father barked out, panicked. Damian hoped he’d survive-

Shhhlk!

He looked up and there stood his ukht. She bounded forwards, using the odd fauna of the magical plane to bolster her movements as she sliced the creatures apart with her swords, magic humming brightly as she cut through them… and the magicians attacking them.

“What- what are you doing here?” He asked. She greeted him, three fingers curled over her shoulder.

‘My question is,’ she signed. ‘Why were you here without a magical weapon.’

Damian sighed as father stepped in between them.

“Who are you.”

“Batman. Cease your excessive worry. I trust her with my life,” Damian snapped. He stepped around a shocked Batman, looked him in the eyes, and unsheathed his katana. He handed it over to his ukht, who took it with amusement.

‘See?’ His eyes seemed to say. Father tensed when his sister unsheathed her own blade and handed it to him.

‘Are you here for a specific reason?’ His sister signed to him.

“Uh, you gonna introduce us, little man?”

Damian sent the Flash a derisive look and ignored him.

“We’re looking for a magician. He set a squadron of demons loose into D.C. last night. He has a tower.” Damian added.

“Robin,” Father growled. “Who is this.” Damian shot him a look and turned back to his sister.

The reincarnation tilted her head. ‘Tower… it’ll have to be that way.’

“Could you take us there?” Damian asked. Truthfully, he could find the way himself. But he wanted more time around his ukht. She nodded and Damian straightened.

“I feel like we should be concerned that Robin’s friend just murdered a bunch of people.”

His sister glanced back and ignored them.

“Silence, incompetents. Speak another word against her, and Batman’s no killing rule will be applied creatively.” He hissed. (The fucking surroundings hissed with him y’all what the fuck)

He turned when his sister ruffled his hair (Superman muttered a super shocked “what the fuck.”) and Damian allowed it. He had missed his sister.

——

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