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deadsetobsessions · 2 months

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As the girl who came up with the Triplet! Tim AU PLEASSEEEEE continue it!!!!! I NEED to see Bruce who thought he had one robin finding out he actually has three separate completely different ones

I gotchu lmfao I think I’ll get to Bruce later? I’m really happy you liked it omg like that idea is so good

——

Their plan was perfect! It would have been perfect, had it not been for Dick Grayson and his nosy face!

Batman might not have known his identity, but Dick Grayson did. He promised to keep it from Batman, but Tim hadn’t exactly thought about his secret identity when he showed up to harass the man into being Robin again.

And now, they’re paying for it.

Tim leaned back and crossed his arms as he watched Dick cradle his head in his hands, looking half a short breath away from a mental breakdown.

“Are you telling me… there’s three of you?”

“Yes, Dick.” Tim sighed, having answered this exact question ten times in the past two minutes.

Dick lifted his head, wide eyes looking a little feverish… no, looking a little manic.

“Tim. Your name is Tim, right? I’m not-”

“Yes, my name is Tim. Technically, so are the others. But the one here with us is Lionel.”

“No, wait, Tim, you understand how this is- insane, right? It’s not even remotely in the realm of mentally healthy.” Dick paused. “Wait, are you skipping school right now?!?”

“Has anyone ever told you your priorities are screwed up, Dick?” Lionel-Tim walked back into the room, hands full of snacks and, most importantly, Dick’s emergency marshmallow bag. Dick turned to Lionel, eyes full of guilt, and grabbed the bag of marshmallows like a dehydrated man in the middle of a desert who’s only couple of feet away from an oasis that he’s been looking for for days.

“Oh my god. I’ve had three younger brothers and I thought they were all the same kid!” Dick wailed, grabbing a handful of marshmallows and stress cramming it into his mouth. Tim threw him a disgusted look.

“To be fair, we made sure to train to act like each other from a really early age,” Tim said, snatching the bag of chips that Lionel chucked at his head. His snack laden triplet plonked himself on the plush spinning chair, shoving a hand inside the bag of gummy worms and cramming it down his throat as he spun around.

“I can’t believe I’ve never even checked up on you at your place!! If I did, I would have noticed it way earlier!”

“Probably not,” Lionel mumbled through his mouthful of colorful gummy worms. “You only caught us because Tim got beat half to death by an edgy crime lord teenager.”

Dick hunched into himself, a myriad of complicated emotions- largely, guilt and fury and heartbreak- wormed its way past his face. Tim glared and threw a chip at his triplet.

“It’s fine, Dick. Lionel’s just being an asshole. We’re taking care of it. Revenge prank.” Tim explained.

“He wouldn’t have caught us and you know it.” Lionel grumbled.

“I’ll help.” Dick mumbled dejectedly.

“You’ll have to get in line, Wing,” Tim went back to his laptop. “My thirds got first dibs, and I’m not planning on staying still either. I’m gonna mess with Jason’s slush funds.”

“He’s got a stash of cash locked up in the fourth safe house, but that’s not interesting. Look!” Lionel proudly displayed a duffle bag- from where he got it from, Dick had no clue- and unzipped it to show batteries, lightbulbs, and random bits and bobs.

“What is that?” Dick asked.

“That’s the second lightbulb in his bathroom light! This is the left battery in his TV remote! And this is half of his back up boot laces. I took all of his 10 mm sockets! And the specialized socket he got for his bike! And this,” Lionel grinned, lifting up a piece of fabric. “Is his pillow case!”

“Niceee.” Tim whistled. He tossed a piece of tech at Lionel. “Sneak back into his house and put that in between his pillows. It’ll keep both sides uncomfortably warm.”

“Fuck yeah!”

“Is… this revenge for almost killing you?” Dick asked.

“It’s either this or complete and total financial ruin, social death, and then actual death.” Tim tapped away at his laptop.

“You’re kind of scary, you know that?”

“We know!” Lionel chirped.

“Base, come in.”

“Base,” Tim quickly replied, laser focused on Archy’s call. Lionel and Dick quieted.

“Hood’s lurking outside the school like a creep,” Archy muttered into the comm, papers rustling behind him.

Dick tensed, upset making itself visible once more.

“You still have the container I gave you this morning in your pocket?”

“Yes.”

Tim smirked in a way that made Dick suddenly have a horrible need to shake and lecture him on the moralities of not becoming a villain. “It’s glitter. Purple and pinks.”

“…Ah.”

“Godspeed, Archy!” Lionel chirped again, sounding slightly more demented.

A moment of silence before-

“Oof!” A puff. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry, mister!”

On the other end of the comm, the gruff voice of a beefy teenager spluttered, “What- why do you- egh- my mouth! The glitter went into- pleh, pleh! What the fuck, kid?!”

“I’m so sorry! It was supposed to be for a project! I worked so hard to mix the colors right! Wait, stay still, mister! I’ll help!”

Archy, eyes wide and innocent, patted some more glitter onto the vigilante.

“No, stop! Stop! You’re getting it on my bike!”

“It’s a pretty color- oh hey, this is open-”

“No! That’s the fuel tank!”

“Oh! Whoops! Sorry!”

As chaos spread on the other side of the comms, Tim and Lionel burst into cackles. Dick choked on the marshmallows, helplessly shaking with laughter.

Lionel whacked at Dick’s back, hysterically giggling.

“That’s- that’s Archy?”

“Archy pretending to be Lionel pretending to be me yeah. I hope he got glitter in the fuel tank.” Tim grinned.

“Want me to patrol tonight to see if he got the glitter out of his bike?”

Lionel jabbed his pointy elbows onto Dick’s shoulders. “Absolutely. Distract him, too! I gotta mess with his safe houses. He’ll never feel comfortable in a safe house ever again.”

“Don’t go overboard, Lionel.” Tim looked up. “But also, I changed his WiFi passwords to 123456, so do with that what you will.”

Lionel grinned. Dick mustered up a smile in response, pushing the guilt away. He had a lot to make up to his little brothers, and if terrorizing Jason was how he was going to accomplish that… well, Dick’s not feeling too nice about Jason right now.

——

Batman squinted suspiciously at a humming Nightwing.

“Something happen?” He managed to ask.

“Hm? Oh, no, I got some nice pictures.”

“…I see.”

Batman, regardless of what his history might suggest, knew how to pick his battles. This? This thing that brought Nightwing’s murder smile? This was one battle he was willing to walk away from.

“Hey, B, you ever think about adopting more kids?”

Batman choked and promptly grappled away. Nightwing cackled.

“You can’t escape the question!”

Batman ran faster.

#Batman #nightwing: maybe i can adopt this time #nightwing being nightwing #nightwing #tim drake is a triplet au #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Jason getting effectively glitterbombed

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wosoamazing · 3 months

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Emails, Transfer Disputes and Harper

Summary: You get a long awaited email, there are some transfer disputes at camp and you spend time with Harper

Warnings: Some swearing, yelling I guess, angst (I think)

A/N: Plot twist..... maybe, maybe not?

You were sitting against the back wall of the common room finishing off the last of your schoolwork for the day. When you got an email, not just an email, the email, you opened the email and started reading, not caring that essentially the rest of the team was in the room.

‘Dear Y/F/N Williamson, this email is regarding your senior education, blah blah, after many discussions within our team and consultations with Arsenal FC and Football Australia we have come to a decision on your request, blah blah, I am pleased to inform you that your request has been fulfilled in addition to the removal of all internal exams, which will instead be replaced with assignments, thus in your final year of your education you will have three assignments per subject to complete. Blah blah blah’

It’s safe to say a wave of relief flooded over you, you had put in this request 6 months ago, your final year of school was looming just 3 weeks away now, and so too were the Olympics in a year, tears started to stream out your eyes, you couldn’t believe it, you didn’t think they would say yes, the request was purely put in to see, no one thought they would say yes, let alone do more.

“What’s wrong” a soft voice said as a small hand was placed on your shoulder, you looked up to see sweet little Harper in front of you.

“These aren’t sad tears Harps, these are happy tears,” you replied to her, pulling her in for a great big hug.

“What’s happening, are you okay Y/N/N?” Steph said as her and Sam walked in totally confused, everyone turned around to see you tears streaming down you face, hugging harper, with a huge smile on your face, they were also totally confused.

“They, they said yes Steph,” “Who did? Wait. No, they said yes! Om my God, I’m so happy for you.”

“Who said yes?” “The education people, she-”

“Read,” you said shoving the computer into Steph’s hands, standing up, now holding Harper, who just pressed her head into the crock of your neck and relaxed, which Mini took a photo of, she had so many photos of you and Harper together, she could fill a stadium with them.

“Dear Y/F/N Williamson, this email is regarding your senior education, whatever, whatever, after many discussions within our team and consultations with Arsenal FC and Football Australia we have come to a decision on your request, whatever, I am pleased to inform you that your request has been fulfilled in addition to the removal of all internal exams, which will instead be replaced with assignments, thus in your final year of your education you will have three assignments per subject to complete. Whatever, whatever.” Said read the email out loud, her mouth dropped in shock. “Wait, they’re doing more?”

“Yep” you replied emphasising the P.

“Wait this means you are available to be picked for the Olympics now, we need to go to Tony”.

“You do know there is no guarantee you will be picked though right” someone said.

“Uh, have you seen the girl play,” Sam responded.

“She makes the oppositions defence look like a joke; trust me I’ve been on the other side of it” Alanna added.

“Anyway, if I don’t get picked for this team, I have been promised there is a spot for me on another team. I’ll tell Tony tomorrow; I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been told as well though.”

“You know what I loved to see you place against Barca,”

“Well, if you accept Emma’s offer that could hap-” Sam started but you cut her off “Yeah and if I accepted Barca’s offer I could play for Barca.”

“Wait, you’ve got offers from Barca and Chelsea?” Steph asks.

“Yeah, and City, and like basically every other club, can we not talk about this right now?”

“But have you actually thought about this, this is serious,” “Yeah, I’m not an imbecile contrary to what you may think, Arsenal found out and offered more than Barca and Chelsea, but they raised them, I told Arsenal, and they are coming back to me,”

“Wait, Emma raised her offer? She was already offering more than she pays me, that’s insane, and Barca did too, and Arsenal might raise them again.” Sam questions with surprise in her voice.

“Yeah” you say back to her, slightly insulted by how much shock she is in.

“So, you’re staying at Arsenal?” Caitlin askes.

“I don’t know, I have to think about it, talk to my parents about it, have the dreaded conversation with Leah, honestly Leah is probably the reason Arsenal is trying to raise again, if I go, she’ll probably go too. But even if she doesn’t go lets be honest, the team works the way it does and its successful because of the dynamic we have, a very fragile dynamic at that, with any one of us gone, its going to fall down a cliff, which is risky, its risky to stay at Arsenal, Barca might not ever offer this sort of money again, or even worse they might not ever give me an offer again” you pause for a moment before you put Harper on the ground “why don’t you go back to your Mama” she nods and walks back over to Mini, who sends you an apologetic look, she knew why you put Harper down and it shouldn’t have to be that way but it is “Arsenal is the dream team, you are all amazing everyone there is my family, but Barca is also the dream team, playing with the best players day in day out at training, competing against some of the best, a +66 goal difference, I mean how could you not want that, and the fact that they increased their offer after Arsenal raised them that means something, you get an offer at Barca you jump at it you, don’t look at the figure, you don’t question, we all know how it works, you question, you hesitate Barca takes the offer away, and Lucy and Kiera say everyone there is super friendly and lovely and they think I would fit right in.”

“You’ve spoken to Lucy Bronze and Kiera Walsh about Barca? But haven’t mentioned a word about it to anyone at Arsenal, your club”.

“Yeah, it’s not like I owe you guys anything”.

“So, Chelsea isn’t on the cards th-” “No Sam Chelsea isn’t on the cards, Chelsea was never on the fucking cards, it was always going to be Baraca or Arsenal. Why am I letting you all do this to me? It’s my decision. It’s my fucking life! I’m going up” you start to walk away, before you turn around and look at Sam and Steph “and don’t you dare even think to follow me,” and with that your gone.

______

“Shit” Sam said.

“Well, we fucked that one up,” Steph added.

“Yep, you did” Raso replied as she got up.

“Where are you going?”

“To go check on her,”

“But-” “no, that was directed at you two, and also anyone else who said something, I’m neutral territory here”.

The team was left in silence until Steph broke it “Shit, I have our Room key. We were on better terms this morning; we didn’t think she would need her own”.

“I’ll go up, give it here, she probably won’t want to stay in there tonight anyway. She can stay with me. Here Charli take Harper, I’ll be back down for her though”.

____

“Hey kid, are you okay?” Hayley asks you; she seems very hesitant, she didn’t get much else in before Mini came up.

“Rass, I’ve got it from here” Mini said, Hayley got up and left, knowing this was more of a Mini job.

Mini sat down next to you, “No, but are you okay?” she asks while putting an arm around your shoulders, a few tears escape your eyes, which you quickly and aggressively wipe away.

“I-I, I don’t know” you sigh.

“They shouldn’t have done that, they immediately regretted it, but still they shouldn’t have done that, it’s absolutely incredible that, this is happening, they should be happy for you, but I think they let their pride and hurt egos get in the way.”

“I just don’t understand how they can go from talking about how ‘amazing’ I am to then being surprised I got an offer from more than one club, and from big clubs at that.”

“Yeah, I know, I think Steph was a bit caught out, she spends so much time with you and-”

“Yeah, but it’s not like anyone knew, not even Leah”.

“Yeah, I know, I think Steph was truly caught off guard, you talk like Arsenal is your home and then just blurt out you’re thinking about moving, I don’t think she thought you had thought about it.”

“Well, Arsenal is my home, but they say home is where the heart is, and I think if you take out the players my heart isn’t there, and I just feel like things are getting too easy at Arsenal, and I want a change, I’ve been part of arsenal for so long, first through Leah, then the academy and now, I love arsenal, it will always hold a piece of my heart, but I think I need to move, I want to improve, and that’s not going to happen at Arsenal”

“Well, that was easy”.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty certain you’ve made your decision, you just need to tell Leah, and the others. Trust me, once they get over their hurt egos, and feelings of betrayal they will be happy for you, and Leah has already been caught off guard by you once”.

“Yeah okay, where is my number one supporter by the way?”

“Oh she is downstairs with Charli, I thought it was best if I left her down there so we could have an adult conversation, but I have this which you might want.” She hands you your room key, “get the stuff you’ll need for tonight and tomorrow, you can have a sleepover with harper and me tonight, she is going to be so excited.”

“Y/N/N!” Harper exclaims when she walked into her room to find you sitting there.

“Harper” you exclaim back matching her energy, she jumps into your arms, and you throw her into the air and catch her, before jumping onto the bed, “what do you want to do?”

“Ice cream?” you look over to Mini.

“Why not, let’s go”. You Mini and Harper go out to ice-cream together, as you walk past the others in the common room you just ignore them, they all seem to be sitting in an awkward silence.

“Harper, you are all sticky, where are the wipes?” you exclaim as harper smushes her sticky face into you for a hug after she had finished her ice-cream.

“Here,” Mini slides the wipes over to you.

“No don’t, hey come back here,” Mini pulls her phone out to film the two of you, harper is running around the park to get away from you and you’re chasing her with a wipe in either hand.

“Ha, got you,” you say as you grab her, proceeding to wipe her sticky face and hands.

“Park?” “You want to go play in the park?” Harper nods her head, so you take her hand and walk over to the park together, you spent most of the afternoon in the park. You pushed harper on the swings. Unsuccessfully taught her how to pump herself on the swings. You went down the slide, a few too many times. Your afternoon was finished off by teacher harper how to do the monkey bars, which she was very good at – with help of course. Mini sat at the table while you two played, she looked up every now and then to check things were okay, but she seemed to make many phone calls, usually you would ask who it was, but you were having too much fun with harper to care.

_____

“I just won’t have dinner tonight, I’ll be fine,” “No, you will be going to dinner, Tony said he wanted everyone there, especially after what happened today, and no one is allowed to leave until he has spoken to us” you huff “Come on lets go now, you can sit with us, just sit at one of the back tables, you can then sit somewhere so you don’t have to see them,” Mini said as she dragged you up.

“Here take her, go sit, I’ll get food,” Mini says handing Harper to you as you walk into the dining room, there are only 4 people in there currently not including you three, yet somehow one of the people you really don’t want to see is standing at the food bar. You go and find a seat, Mini comes back, with food. You have finished yours, but Harper hasn’t even touched her diner, she insists you feed her, so that you do, until Mini saw something.

“Um,” “What?” “I’ll message you,” she pulls out her phone, you phone vibrates on the table, and you quickly pick it up to read her message.

Gorry: Steph just walked in, gave Sam a dirty look as she walked past and Sat down at a different table.

Your jaw drops and Mini nods her head, you make questioning eyebrows at her and she just shrugs. You two captains always sat next to each other during mealtimes, or at least at the same table, you were often seen with them too but every now and then you sat with others, trying to expand your social circle. So, the fact that they aren’t sitting together is very odd.

After everyone had basically finished their dinner Tony got up, and started to talk, “Girls, I would just like to say the behaviour today was unacceptable, and I am extremely ashamed at the actions of our captains and older teammates, if anything it was our youngest teammate who showed the most maturity by walking away. Please know that if this sort of behaviour ever happens again on camp there will be punishment, and I’m not just talking laps. Steph and Sam can I talk to you outside please, the rest of you are free to enjoy your night.”

“I can’t believe I am having to do this girl, and I still can’t believe I saw what I saw this afternoon.” Tony starts yelling at your captains not realising the door hasn’t shut completely.

“Wait what happened? Why am I not getting in trouble, he wasn’t there was he?” you ask Mini.

“I don’t know, and no he wasn’t”.

“Oh boy did you two miss something, it was kind of good you left when you did,” Macca started.

“Yeah so basically once you had gotten harper and left, Steph finally broke the really awkward silence and asked Sam why she reacted the way she did when you said Arsenal raised and then Barca and Chelsea did again, and Sam was like ‘She is only sixteen and getting paid more than me, and I’m assuming you too’, which to be honest was a low blow, like she just attacked Steph there but anyway, Steph then said ‘Well, yeah she is fucking good’, and Sam replied ‘oh course you would say that,’ Steph asked her what she meant and she was like ‘oh well she’s your little mini me, always with you, always coming to you for help, and you always drop everything to help her, you act as if she is the sun and we all revolve around her’ which obviously Steph was taken aback by and was like ‘Oh, so now I’m the bad guy for not only fulfilling my captain duties but being a nice person, you know Sam we are meant to be approachable and help our teammates especially the younger ones, and of course she comes to me for help, she’s a kid, like we joke Kyra and Charli and all that are kids but she is actually a kid, you have to take more care with her, help her more, help her understand. Just because your ego is hurt at the fact that a 16-year-old is going to get paid more than you and you don’t know how to feel because a 16-year-old is better than you doesn’t mean you can take it out on me, and you are blind if you actually were surprised that Barca and Chelsea raised their offers again, she is incredible, will be the player of her generation,’ and then Sam just scoffed and was like ‘whatever you suck up’ and then Tony walked in and got super mad and send us all to different rooms and stuff” Hayley gives you both a brief recount of the day.

“Yeah, you really did miss a lot,”

“Yeah, it seems we did,”

“But wait Steph was protecting me, I thought she was having a go at me? I think I was just so mad at Sam; I kept it going”.

“Yeah no, originally I don’t know if she was having a go or just questioning but after you left, she really did confront Sam and I mean Sam was in the wrong, Steph could’ve just dealt with it in a better way.”

_____

“I think someone is tired, should we head up?” you say, after Harper yawns, looking at Mini for confirmation who nods, you pick harper up and rest her on your hip, she puts her head on your shoulders and her eyes start to droop. Once you arrive to your room you get dressed into your Pjs and so does Harper, you both already have had your showers for the day.

A phone vibrates and look over to mini, “that was you”, so you pick up your phone to see a message from Steph.

Steph: Hey can we talk? I understand if you don’t want too.

You: Hey um yeah but it’s easier if we message, Harper has fallen asleep on top of me.

Steph: Yeah, no that’s fine, I don’t know if I’m allowed to come out of our room anyway and if you even allowed to come in.

You: Oh

Steph: But I just wanted to say sorry for what happened this afternoon, I was out of line, and I just want to apologise, I am really sorry.

You: For what happened when I was there or what you said to Sam?

You: But in all honesty, it’s okay, I was getting defensive at Sam and snapped at you when you didn’t deserve it you were just questioning. But also thank you for stepping up and confronting Sam for me even if it got you in trouble.

Steph: Wait who told you about that?

Steph: But I was just telling her the truth and really, I should’ve stopped her earlier, it shouldn’t have gotten to the point that you had to walk away.

You: It’s okay Steph, I promise I forgive you but maybe not Sam, at least not yet. She was mean to both of us.

Steph: Okay, I will make it up to you I promise.

You: Hmmm, I will think about what I want…..

Steph: I never said I would by you anything, maybe I was just going to be nice, get you out of fitness testing

You: Hey no, that isn’t nice, I looove fitness testing

Steph: Weirdo

You: Hey

You: Love you heaps, good night (well not for you but for me), see you tomorrow, I can’t wait to see you! I have so much to tell you.

You: Shit that was meant for Leah not you

You: But love you anyway, see you in the morning.

Steph: Love you, sorry again, night night

_____

You were standing at the breakfast bar contemplating your morning meal like you were contemplating life when you saw Steph walk in, you immediate walked over to her and hugged her, in which she returned wrapping her arms around you tightly as if to never let go, you could really sense her guilt, you stayed like that for at least a minute and only pulled away because Sam wanted to talk to you.

“Hey, I’m sorry for yesterday, I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I’m really sorry” she said very awkwardly.

“Okay, thank you.” You say bluntly before walking away.

“What so she is hugging you, but I don’t even get an I forgive you?”

“Well, she doesn’t like lying and I don’t think she does forgive you yet,” Steph said before walking away and following you.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #matildas #auswnt

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luxaofhesperides · 1 month

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if you give a ghost a trauma: a parody fic

read on ao3.

Danny wishes to be sent someplace he could have a better family. Unfortunately, that lands him in a Gotham where tropes are made reality to the extreme. He really just can't catch a break. (or: a dcxdp parody fic where i make danny the only one able to see how bizarre things are. this does not help him in any way.)

. . .

“We’re gonna get you!” Maddie Fenton, a Bad Parent™ cries as she shoots her gun at Danny, her half dead son.

“No!” he wails, flying around as he dodges the shots. “I wish my parents weren’t trying to capture me for Evil Science Reasons! I wish I had a better family!”

“Lol, done,” said Desiree, snapping her fingers.

Danny only has time to say Uh-oh before he’s sucked away into a magic portal and spit out into a dark and dreary city. In just the one second he’s there, before he even hits the ground, he hears gunshots, screaming, and the wailing of police sirens. Then he hits the ground and groans, releasing his ghost form to go back to being a human.

“Where am I?” he asks himself, getting to his feet and looking around. The alleyway he’s in is empty and full of garbage just scattered around. Wherever he may be, it clearly needed to invest more in its sanitation department.

He spots a fire escape on the side of a building and uses it to climb onto the rooftop, a totally normal course of action. Then he stares at the city, glowing with the street lights and neon business lights and a spotlight with the shape of a bat in it glowing on the clouds.

“This might as well just happen,” Danny says, “My life is already so weird anyway.”

He stands there for some time, at a loss of what to do next. The wind is cold and brings with it a promise of rain, and from the looks of the dark clouds above him, it’s going to rain soon. Danny needs shelter, fast.

“Hey, kid, you okay?” says someone who snuck up behind him.

Danny shrieks and jumps, nearly going over the edge of the roof.

“Woah!” the person says, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to safety. “That was close!”

Danny blinks up at his savior, then squints. This guy’s definitely not normal, since he’s wearing a domino mask and a lightly armored black suit with a blue bird emblem stretching across his chest.

“Way to nearly kill him, Nightwing,” says a new person, dropping down onto the roof from the sky. This new person wears red and black, a pair of bandoliers crossing over his chest.

“Well, I saved him, didn’t I!”

“Um, hi,” Danny interjects. “Thanks for grabbing me before I fell, but who are you?”

“You don’t know who we are?” blue bird asks rather incredulously.

“Do you think I’m asking just for fun.”

Red and black steps in with a smile. “I’m Red Robin, that’s Nightwing. We’re vigilantes trying to keep Gotham safe.”

Danny makes an educated guess that the city they’re currently in is Gotham. Not a city he’s ever heard before, but what does he know?

“Okay,” he says. There’s really not much else he can say.

“You never answered my question,” Nightwing says. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, just fine. No idea where I am or how to get home, but it can always be worse, you know?”

“Did you get lost?” Red Robin asks, pulling a holographic computer up from his wrist. Tucker would kill to get his hands on something like that. Danny wonders if he can get his own as a souvenir.

“Something like that, yeah,” he replies. Another few gunshots ring out loudly through the streets, closer than they were before. Danny flinches, then ducks down a little, looking back towards the street apprehensively. “Um. You guys gonna do anything about that?”

The two vigilantes shrug, as if that’s an acceptable course of action. And then a hand shoots up and grabs the edge of the roof by Danny’s foot, making him jump in the air. Nightwing catches him yet again and moves him away from the ledge.

A red helmet, leather jacket wearing guy built like a pro-wrestle hauls himself up the roof easily. There are guns tucked into holsters on his thighs and a red, block bat stuck on his chest.

“Should I be concerned,” Danny says blankly.

“Nah, it’s just Red Hood,” Red Robin replies, “The only person he ever tries to kill is me.”

“Cause you’re a replacement. And also, get over it, that was ages ago We’re good now. I haven’t even had a Pit Rage episode in months!”

“So the bullets you shot at me last week were just for fun?”

“Yeah, and they were rubber, so it’s not like you would have gotten hurt.”

Danny takes a few steps closer to Nightwing, hiding behind him. He’s getting bad vibes all around from that guy.

“Tch,” a new voice says right behind Danny, making him flinch. A young boy with a sword steps out from behind him and joins the crew of vigilantes just hanging out on the roof. “As if he’s even worth that much attention.”

“Hello to you too, Demon Brat,” Red Robin says.

“How many of you are there?” Danny asks. “Don’t you need to like, protect the city?”

“Batgirl and Spoiler are working on it,” Nightwing says.

“We’re doing what?” another voice says, and a energetic blond girl dressed in purple armor hops onto the roof, tucking her grappling hook away. Following her is another person in all black, face fully covered, with stitches covering the mouth portion to make it seem as though they can’t talk. The person leaves the blond girl behind to head straight to Danny, making him take a few nervous steps back.

“Dead,” she says, poking his chest with a finger.

Is that a threat? It feels like a threat.

“No?” he tries.

“What are you talking about, Batgirl?” Red Hood interrupts. “We all know the only dead person here is me.”

Everyone promptly groans, telling him to shut up about it and go one night without mentioning his death.

Okay, that seems concerning! Is he another halfa? Is he like Vlad? Danny’s going to be so mad if he got dropped into another world directly into the hands of another Vlad.

“You’re dead?” he asks, leaning away from Batgirl as she pokes him once more.

“Yeah.”

“Same hat?” Danny tries, squinting at him.

“The fuck?” is the answer, which tells him that he probably doesn’t know what Danny’s on about. There’s still a 6% chance that he’s just lying to make Danny look like a fool, though.

6% is more than 5%, which means it’s enough for him to just act on instinct and walk right up to the gun-wielding Red hood. He tries to consciously use his ghost sense, which is an odd feeling that reminders him of the moment before he hiccups.

A light blue mist wafts out his mouth.

Yep, the rumors are true: this man is dead.

“Once, again,” Red Hood says, “The fuck?”

“Seconded,” Nightwing adds.

“Third!” Spoiler joins in.

Danny takes a page out of Batgirl’s book and pokes Red Hood’s chest. It’s very solid, only hard muscle, and reminds him a bit of Dan. That’s never a good sign. Something about Red Hood is making his skin crawl though, a sense of wrongness that sets alarm bells ringing in the back of his mind.

“Did you come back instantly when you died?” he asks.

The white lenses of Red Hood’s helmet turn neon green. “Why the fuck are you asking me that.”

“Just checking. The green I’m seeing right now is making me think you’re a halfa.”

“What’s a halfa?” Red Robin interjects.

“An unlucky soul like me,” Danny responds, distracted. He lays his palm flat against Red Hood’s chest. The vigilante holds still, as if frozen, letting Danny do as he please. The ectoplasm he feels in other ghosts is usually calm, made unique by the personality of the ghost it belongs to, but it doesn’t roil and try to hurt the host like the ectoplasm in Red Hood is doing.

He pulls back and looks around at the circle of vigilantes surrounding him. “Can anyone answer how he came back? Where did he even find this must rotten ectoplasm?”

“Pit,” Batgirl helpfully answers.

“Pit,” Danny repeats. “Like a pit of death? Toxic sludge? Landfill pit gone evil? What am I working with here.”

“Lazarus Pits,” the little one with the sword says. “How do you know about them?” He then pulls out his sword and points it at Danny, ignoring the way Nightwing hisses Robin, no!

His name is Robin? Isn’t that just Red Robin’s name? Did this Robin have a color added to his name as well?

“I literally don’t, but if it’s green and weird, then it’s probably ecto.” He turns back to Red Hood. “I’m gonna take care of it now.” And then he shoves his hand into Red Hood’s chest, ignoring the alarmed shouts from the other vigilantes. They try to pull him away, but Danny goes intangible, making their hands fall right through him as he gets a good grip on the ecto, sending his own out in a steady stream to chase the rotten flow towards his hand, then yanks it out.

It’s green and goopy in his hands, steaming slightly in the air. “Ew,” Danny says. “That’s nasty. You were just living with this inside you?”

Red Hood doesn’t seem to hear him.

Red Hood takes off his helmet and stares at the rotten ectoplasm in Danny’s hand. Nightwing approaches him cautiously, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Hood? You doing okay? How are you feeling?”

“It’s gone,” Red Hood answers, shocked. “The Pit Rage. It’s gone. I haven’t felt this clear headed since before I died.”

“That must have sucked,” Danny says empathetically, then shakes the nasty ecto off his hand. It lands on the roof with a wet splat.

Once again: ew.

“How did you do that?” Red Robin asks, crowding into Danny’s space. Batgirl slides up behind him, trapping him between them.

“Did you not just watch me yank it out? It was easy. Anyways, y’all got jobs to do, and I got places to go. So I’ll see you never!”

He tries to fly away, but only manages to get a few feet before he’s pulled down by multiple people grabbing at him.

“What is going on here,” A low, gravelly voice demands. Yet another vigilante appears, gliding out of the shadows. This one is much bigger than everyone else, cloaked in darkness, with a helm that has two little ear things poking out on top.

“Batman,” Robin says, “This meta cured Hood of his Pit Madness.”

“I see,” Batman replies, looking Danny over. “Are you an orphan?”

What the fuck. Who just asks that?

“No.”

“Are your parents well?”

“Sure? My mom was pretty energetic while shooting at me before I came here.”

“You do not have to be unsafe in your home again,” Batman says, grabbing something out of his tactical fanny pack. “You can live with us instead.”

He holds out fucking adoption papers.

Danny backs up as fast as he can, shaking his head. “Oh, no! No you don’t! I did not trade one fruitloop for another!”

“No new brother?” Batgirl asks sadly.

“Definitely not,” he insists. “No thank you! I’m fine as I am and fully plan on going home.”

Batman frowns. “You said your mother was shooting at you.”

“Yeah, and? The food in our fridge comes to life every meal and we have to fight it. This is normal for us. Chill out and put those papers away.”

The entire crew of vigilantes seems very put out with Batman obligingly puts the adoption papers away.

“Yeah, I’m done here. Go back to protecting the city. I’m just gonna… go.”

Danny doesn’t wait for them to say anything else before flies away, remembering to go intangible this time. He soars through the polluted streets of Gotham, weaving between tall buildings made with dark stone and decorated with gargoyles. It’s all very dark and dreary, which means Sam would love it.

She would not be loving the pollution, though. Danny certainly isn’t.

“I wish I could go home,” he says loudly, looking up at the sky expectantly.

No magic portal appears to yoink him back.

“I wish I was at home again, and not here!”

Desire does not appear to help him out. She leaves him stranded in Gotham, pouting at the sky until he gives up and flies down to sit on a new roof and angst about his situation. Hopefully this time a gaggle of vigilantes won’t bother him.

Resting his head against his hands, he sighs. Then again, and again, loudly. “Man, this sucks,” he says to himself.

“What’s got a kitten like you so down?” someone says behind him.

“I’m so tired of random people sneaking up behind me on rooftops,” he informs them without turning around. If they wanna talk to him, they gotta got to him, not the other way around.

“Ah, ran into the Bats, did you?”

They’re called Bats? But only two were Bats. None of the other vigilantes fit the theme. That’s just lazy and inconsistent. They should rebrand to something better.

The person walks over and sits down next to him. Danny glances over and is startled to find a woman in a leather body suit, with a hood that has cat ears and googles with an orange tint.

…Is everyone in this city just dressed strangely at all times? Is this the normal fashion of Gotham?

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare. Who are you?”

The woman laughs. “Oh, so you haven’t heard of Catwoman?”

“Nope. No clue who you are.”

“Well,” she purrs, “A pleasure to meet you. I’m a thief.”

The dots connect in his mind. “Like a cat burglar!”

“Yes, like that.”

“Man, this city is wild and I come from a place that deals with ghosts on a daily basis.”

“So what are you doing in a place like this? Gotham isn’t kind to newcomers.”

Danny sighs, yet again, and tilts his head back to look up at the cloudy, starless sky. “I made a dumb mistake and got sucked into a magic portal that spit me out here. I have no clue how I’m going to get home.”

“Do you have a place to stay?”

He glares at Catwoman. “I’m not open to being adopted. I’ll just eat any papers you send my way.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she reassures, “I have no interest in being a mother. But I have a spare bedroom if you need it, and I wouldn’t mind teaching you a few tricks of the trade. It’ll be fun, messing with Batman.”

Ah, so she’s doing this for Trickster Reasons. Danny can respect that.

And he also doesn’t have any other options. Considering how much gun violence and general violence he’s hearing in this city, he’ll probably be killed an embarrassing number of times just from trying to find a place to sleep on the streets for one night. Between cold, dangerous streets with storm clouds hanging heavy over his head or a guest bedroom in the home of a thief with a theme, there’s really no choice.

“If you don’t mind me hanging around, I’d really appreciate having a place to sleep until I figure out a way home.”

“Come along, then! I was just about to turn in for the night.” Catwoman stands up, stretches, then takes hold of the whip on her waist and snaps it out. She takes a running leap off the building, then throws her whip out to wrap around a billboard to swing across the street.

Danny watches her go, then follows her lead, flying behind her, ready to catch her just in case. But Catwoman moves with ease, clearly experienced in recklessly moving through the streets, and makes her way to a highrise apartment with no trouble at all.

They land on a balcony just as the sky rumbles with ominous thunder. Another second later, and the clouds open up and heavy rain begins to fall.

Catwoman throws the door open and they both scramble to get inside before they get drenched. The lights flick on, revealing a stylish modern apartment, filled with art pieces and ornamental bonsai trees. A few quiet cries come from corners of the room, and then cats appear, one after another, moving around Danny’s legs curiously before turning to Catwoman.

“That was a close one,” Catwoman says conversationally as she takes off her hood and googles, revealing her face. Her pixie cut is messy and her eyes are bright and sharp, just like a cat’s. “I suppose since we’re going to be working together from now on, that we properly introduce ourselves.” She holds out a hand for to shake. “Selina Kyle. I look forward to the trouble we’ll cause together.”

Danny stares down at her hand, then takes hold of it. Looks like he’s going to be a thief! Well, it’ll be a fun story for later.

He doesn’t want his name attached to his new life of crime, though. And, he figures, this is a fresh start. New life, new name. There’s one that pops into mind immediately, and he latches onto it, ready to step into the world of crime.

“Call me Neal Caffrey,” he says, shaking her hand. “I’m ready to start when you are.”

#my writing #dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dcxdp #dp x dc fanfic #purposefully writing something bad is actually so freeing. everyone do this it will make writing so much easier #if ure confused abt the neal caffery joke check my end notes on ao3 ;)

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flametrashiraarchive · 9 months

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Hi! Me again lol. If we're limited to how much we can ask you don't have to answer. I was wondering if you could do Giyuu x Y/N who was also a hashira but after the final battle. They're finally able to be together and months later find out they're expecting. It can be SFW or NSFW. If you're not comfortable with this I totally understand.

-☀️

Yes! Happy endings ftw.

I thought it would be cute to have this be part of the bathhouse pieces just for the sake of a throwaway joke, but this reader is specifically AFAB so please ignore it if that's not for you. It's the Bathing with Giyuu Multiverse.

I’m really sorry it doesn’t really include the pregnancy part (I alluded to it but they’re really difficult for me to write about sometimes) but I hope the love between Giyuu and you makes up for it.

This piece does contain slight spoilers for the end of the Demon Slayer manga so be warned! (spoilers from here on out!)

Also, I refuse to accept that the thing with the mark and how much time he has left is canon. It’s too sad so it doesn’t happen. You and Giyuu are gonna grow old together.

I hope you like it!!

AFTERMATH

Giyuu Tomioka x F!reader. NSFW.

Memories of your fallen comrades haunt you long after the rubble is cleared away. Nightmares of what befell those you care about wake you when you finally do manage to drift off. The scent of battle lingers on your skin for weeks. Smoke, blood, and death. No matter how many times you've tried to wash it off it clings to you.

Which is why you find yourself traipsing to the onsen in the darkness, your katana still grasped firmly in your hand, because you still can't quite believe that it's over. The battle is won, and the world is safe.

You can relax in the onsen completely safe and completely alone–

"You're kidding me?!"

Giyuu stares at you, half submerged in the steaming water, his expression one of wide-eyed surprise. But once he sees it's you, his face softens again. "Ah… is it time for our annual awkward bath together?"

You laugh for the first time in days. Giyuu has always been a little less guarded around you, but since the fight ended, he has been far more open. He's funny. Peace looks good on him.

"Do you mind if I get in?" You ask, "It's not like we haven't seen everything already."

He shakes his head. "I don't mind. We've been through hell and back together, this is nothing."

"Yeah…"

"Should I turn around?" he asks.

Oh Giyuu. Even after everything you’ve been through together; the battles, the quiet moments, the nights you spent together early on where you promised it was just once to get it out of your systems, and the times later when you both agreed you could die at any moment so why the hell not. Even after all that, he’s still a perfect and slightly awkward gentleman.

Your breath shivers as you slip off your yukata in answer and those deep blue eyes of his drink you in.

He stands, gazing up at you with his lips slightly parted. It'll take some time to get used to the sight of him without his right arm, and no doubt it'll take him even longer than that. But he's alive. You both made it. You survived.

He wades toward you and offers you his hand, helping you step down into the water. His eyes never leave you. Yours never leave him. And you both just stand there, the water only up to your hip, laid bare before each other in this newly peaceful world.

You no longer smell smoke, blood, or death. Giyuu’s scent is soft, clean rain, washing over you and carrying the horrors away.

His smile is so soft and serene your heart aches.

A muscle in his cheek flexes before he speaks. "I didn't lose you," he says, as though the fact is only just sinking in, as if he'd mourned you even before the battle had even begun and is only just allowing himself to believe you’re really there, that you really survived.

It’s a feeling you know well.

A slow smile lifts his lips, his eyes meeting yours, his sapphire gaze filled with unending tenderness. You reach up to caress his cheek and melt as he closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

"We made it, Giyuu."

"We did," he says, his voice so quiet and calm. "I should have told you this before the battle, but I was afraid to because I thought telling you would mean you wouldn't make it. Like I’d put a curse on you or something. And if you don't feel the same–"

"I love you."

His eyes widen a little, but soften a heartbeat later. He chuckles. "Yeah… yeah, you took the words out of my mouth."

"I've wanted to tell you that for the longest time."

"Me too.' He dips his chin, pressing his forehead to yours as a quiet laugh of relief emerges from him. With your heart fluttering, you close your eyes and just enjoy the sensation, and the quiet intimacy of being loved by Giyuu.

His lips hover so close to yours, gentle breaths fanning over your skin. Your heart aches with need for him as you tilt your face toward him to bring your lips closer.

He closes the gap, his kiss as light as gossamer, sending your heart into a frenzy. The kiss is so gentle it's almost painful, the fluttering in your chest more than you can bear. It shivers through every fiber of your body, more potent than any breathing technique as every cell in your body seems to sigh his name.

Giyuu. You're alive. We made it, and we can finally let ourselves love.

Little by little, the kiss deepens until Giyuu's tongue is caressing yours. His lips are soft and oh-so gentle, stirring up the butterflies in your belly. You open your eyes, seeking reassurance that this isn’t all just some dream. The intimate sight of him causes your heart to leap; his eyes are closed, his pretty dark lashes resting on his pink-dusted cheeks, so peaceful in that moment you can’t believe this is the same world which demanded so much sacrifice.

He skates his hand down to the curve of your lower back, gently pulling you closer until your bodies are flush with each other. The rise and fall of his chest staggers against yours as you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him, bathed in moonlight and the rising steam of the onsen. And though the battle only took place in one tiny pocket of the world, it feels as though you are clinging to each other among the wreckage, even here surrounded by serenity.

As much as you crave each other, you take your time and love one another slowly, washing each other with all the tenderness the world couldn’t spare you until now. You sit with your back to him as he washes your hair, his fingers deftly moving over your scalp, making goosebumps pebble along your thighs. He bows his head and weaves a cloak of kisses across your back and shoulders, making sure not to leave a single inch of you feeling unloved.

And then, when you’ve both washed away what you needed to, he takes your hand and leads you back to his home; a big, empty house waiting to be filled with the family and the love he never even allowed himself to believe he could have. The comforting scent of him lingers in the house and you feel as though you never want to leave. He doesn’t want you to go either.

Moonlight shines through the windows, casting silver light over the pair of you as you lie together in Giyuu’s bed, lost once more in tender kisses. The relief and love, the guilt of survival, the way your mind can’t quite slip fully out of fight mode… It’s overwhelming. He notices the moment your tears start to fall.

“Love… it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking them away with his thumb and you know he understands completely.

“We’re allowed to be happy, aren’t we?”

He smiles softly, and nods. “Yeah… we are.”

His breath is hot against your skin as he trails kisses over your jaw, down your throat, and to your chest. When his lips reach the top of your breast he pauses, lays down his head and closes his eyes, listening to your heart’s rhythm and your breathing with a quiet sigh. You know this will go on for a while; that no matter how often you reassure each other that this is real, that you both made it, that it’s okay for you to love each other, some part of you both will always question.

Because since when has the world ever been this kind?

“Can I love you forever?” he asks softly. “Is that okay?”

Your fingers thread through his soft black hair as he kisses down your stomach. “Please, Giyuu… please do.”

He brings you simple solace with the wet heat of his mouth. He settles between your thighs, eyes closed, lapping at your tender flesh with his fingers interlaced with yours. Soft and slow and so loving your heart can barely take it. He tastes every inch of you, drawing comfort from your sighs and the way you gasp his name. A groan emerges from him as you bear down on his tongue, grinding yourself against his gentle mouth. And only then does he quicken his pace, giving you what you need to drive you over the edge and plunging into ecstasy.

You can’t help but laugh a little as he raises his head to gaze at you. Giyuu always has the haziest, prettiest expression when he’s drunk on your pussy, and the war hasn’t changed that one bit. His cheeks are flushed pink, his lips glossy with your slick arousal.

He gets back onto the bed, lying face-to-face beside you and guides your thigh over his waist, angling his hips so he can enter you. He sets a languid rhythm, kissing you the entire time, his cock only entering you halfway so he can make it last as long as possible. He fought through hell to be here with you and he’s going to make sure he cherishes every second.

“You’re… so wet…” he gasps against your lips.

You try to bite back a grin and fail. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you fuck the water hashira.”

Giyuu’s composure breaks and he laughs–really laughs–resting his forehead against your chest. “I love you.”

Gods, what a world this is; that you get to love him, that you have the luxury of time to stop and laugh together in the middle of sex. Giyuu has such an adorably boyish laugh too; one which crinkles his nose and shakes his shoulders. It’s a sound you want to hear a billion times more over the course of your life and a sight you will never tire of.

“I love you too, Giyuu. I always will.”

He’s still chuckling until he rolls you onto your back and presses himself deeper, wiping the smiles from both your faces as pleasure drowns out your amusement. The delicious stretch pulls a groan from you, and when he starts to roll his hips you can’t help but cry out. The control he has over his body is breathtaking, and the loss of his arm doesn’t hinder him at all as he has you wrap your legs around his waist and fucks you hard and deep, filling the room with the lewd symphony of slapping flesh and your wanton cries.

Every time before, he has pulled out of you, both of you unwilling to bring a child into the world when each tomorrow was so precarious. But now he presses deeper, his eyes alight with new possibility, and love like he never allowed himself to believe in. He groans as he fills you, resting his head between your breasts and listening to the thundering rhythm of your heart as you wrap your arms around him and hold him through his orgasm.

And then you lie together in the aftermath; just you and Giyuu at the end and the beginning of it all.

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swordcreature · 5 months

Note

HCs for Rolan/Dammon(/Zevlor) on how Tav would care for Their wounds 🥺🥺 learning a new spell goes wrong, burning himself at the forge, battle training mishap and now Tav has to take care of them even though They are usually the Adventuring Hero who comes home beat up after Going Out and Risking their Life to Save The Day

hi anon i hope you like it!!

thank you for the request!

Dammon, Rolan, & Zevlor - Tending to Their Wounds

no explicit content, just some minor descriptions of injuries

How the tiefling boys are tended to

Dammon:

Dammon, although brilliant with his hands, is accident prone. He’ll burn his tail when it accidentally whips into the embers of the forge, or he’ll touch a piece of metal that’s still too hot, having thought it cooled down.

Funny enough, Dammon swears he didn’t use to be so clumsy. Maybe he’s just been distracted lately by something. Or someone.

Either way, he needs help when he absentmindedly backs into his anvil as a molten hot metal ingot sits atop of it, singing the skin of his tail.

The sound Dammon makes when he gets hurt is strangely high pitched for how low and smooth his voice is, and he’ll totally blush if called on it (because he totally doesn’t make the same sound in bed ever, no not him)

He’s really quick to ask Tav for help. He’s not ashamed of needing it, though he does feel somewhat guilty for bothering them with his “little wound” – it’s definitely a second-degree burn though.

Tav will make him lay on the bed, to get a better look they swear! And they’re very tender with his sensitive tail, covering it in a medicinal salve and wrapping it in gauze. They’re not a healer, but they’ve learned enough on the road to help with smaller burns and cuts.

They’ll give his tail some tentative strokes, or, if feeling cheeky, they’ll give it a firm squeeze around the base.

Dammon normally likes to be the caretaker in the relationship. Not only is he old fashioned – he wants to make Tav feel safe, provide for them, meet all their needs – but he also recognizes how much Tav has done for him, for all the refugees, really.

But he’ll still look at them while they tend to his burn, love struck and just so very happy. Like they’re giving him a massage instead of dressing a wound. He knows how lucky he is to have someone like Tav to help him when he needs it.

Rolan:

Is anyone really surprised to hear that I think Rolan is a bit of a crybaby when he gets a minor injury? He would probably complain less if he got stabbed in the chest.

So, when he’s toying around with a new form of thunderwave that goes awry, slamming himself into a bookshelf a couple feet back, tomes falling out and onto his head, he dramatically announces to his family that he most certainly has a concussion or a broken wrist.

Maybe both!

But he doesn’t want Tav to take a look, oh no. They’re not allowed to touch him at all, lest they hurt him more. Even though Tav has seen more than their fair share of broken bones and head trauma.

Rolan’s ego is wounded more than anything, so it’s hard to convince him that if he is indeed hurt, that Tav should at least double check.

He’ll agree when he realizes that Tav is actually worried about him, but he makes them promise to be gentle.

Tav’s touch is feather light on Rolan’s head, brushing over the bump that’s forming between his horns. He’s definitely got an egg there, but it’s no concussion.

They’ll hold his wrist with the same tenderness they would a baby bird, turning it over in their hand, moving it ever so slightly.

If you think Rolan wouldn’t yelp like a kicked puppy at the littlest bit of pain, you’re wrong!

But Tav quickly assesses that his wrist is, in fact, fine. Just a little bruised.

Rolan blushes because of course he would make a big deal over a non-injury. He doesn’t love the idea of pulling Tav from their normal activities, his adventurer who faced the godsdamned Elder Brain, just to deal with his dramatics.

That doesn’t stop him from repeating the process once more when another spell backfires.

Zevlor:

Zevlor would rather die than admit when he’s in pain or hurt. He hates the idea of anyone worrying about him, especially Tav. There are greater things to care about than him, in his opinion.

One day, when he is working with the Flaming Fist to train the city’s children in proper weapon safety, he catches a stray short sword to the leg, slicing his thigh from knee to mid-thigh.

It’s not a particularly deep wound, but it’s enough to make him favor that side.

Zevlor has enough combat training to know how to dress a wound himself, so he’s able to stop the bleeding enough to not draw attention.

But Tav still notices, as the slight limp in his step gives him away. They’re immediately worried, demanding to see his leg, asking what happened, pulling him to sit down.

Zevlor tries to hush them, to let them know he’s okay and that it’s just a scratch – nothing for them to worry about. But Tav is relentless until he finally agrees to roll up his pant leg.

It’s not as bad as Tav initially imagined, but it will need stitches. They grab the kit Zevlor keeps for emergencies and attempts to lay Zevlor on the bed.

They’re a little shaky as they try and close his gash. They’ve done this a million times before, but this is the first time they’ve seen Zevlor wounded, no matter how small the wound may be. It’s a dark reminder that he isn’t the invulnerable Hellrider that Tav sees him as.

They’re reminded of all the times they’ve come home injured from whatever adventure they were on and the look on Zevlor’s face as he tried to help them in whatever way he could. Suddenly, they feel guilty. If this is how he’s felt all those times, they certainly owe him an apology.

The next time they go off on a mission, they're more careful – more cautious – thinking back to the way they felt seeing Zevlor hurt that day.

#bg3 #bg3 dammon #bg3 rolan #bg3 zevlor #dammon #rolan #zevlor #my writing #anon #zevlor x tav #dammon x tav #rolan x tav #requests/suggestions

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gabessquishytum · 1 month

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Alpha!Dream hides his ruts from omega!Hob.

None of his past partners ever made him feel loved- in fact they usually made him feel worse and complained about how he would get during his ruts because they were “weird” compared to how ruts get portrayed in society. He does have the instinct to knot his partner, but for him that’s always been more of a means to an end. What he really wants is to be as close as possible to the other person, to hold and be held, to know that they’re here and safe and that he’s not alone. He doesn’t show the stereotypical alpha aggression, which has led to partners calling him too soft and clingy and annoying and overbearing during his ruts and he often ends up getting dumped shortly after it ends because he’s just “too much”.

So by the time he and Hob get together he’s convinced he just has to suck it up alone in order to not scare Hob away. It’s okay for awhile, but Hob notices the times Dream is absent for a bit and comes back smelling particularly miserable and sad, and he gets worried as time passes and despite sharing Hob’s heat together, he’s never seen Dream in rut. He asks about it, because skipping heats or ruts can be a sign of health problems, and he wants to make sure his darling is okay!

Dream reluctantly admits that he has had ruts, but he didn’t want to burden Hob with it. Hob is appalled- Dream takes such good care of Hob during his heats, he hates the idea of not being able to take care of him in turn!

They talk a lot; about Dream’s past experiences, his anxieties and shame, the types of things he wants and doesn’t want during his rut. The next time Dream’s rut hits, Hob is going to be there, doing everything in his power to make sure Dream feels safe and sated and loved.

-🦇

AWWW poor Dream!! I really like the idea of him having nontraditional rutting behaviours. I think Hob would be totally charmed (but of course sad that Dream has been treated so horribly by other people in the past).

Hob’s first suggestion for Dream’s next rut is: nesting. Its typically considered an omega thing, although not all omegas do it. But Hob thinks that Dream would really benefit. It's all about safety, closeness and the bond between alpha and omega, and it seems like the ideal way to help Dream prepare for his rut without feeling so anxious.

When Dream feels his rut coming on, he starts collecting stuff. Mostly unwashed bedclothes, plus some of Hob’s old pyjamas and comfy clothes. All stuff that smells like safety and home. He feels quite embarrassed as he builds up this pile of fabric, but after a little while his hormones settle and he feels really good about it! The nest smells good, there are pillows, Dream even stolen some of Hob’s plushies. Its perfect.

Hob makes sure to compliment the nest as much as possible when he's invited in. He talks about how cozy and safe he and Dream are together, how they'll spend the time cuddled up and warm, and Dream can knot him if he wants to. Dream relaxes and holds Hob very close, licking his scent glands. He does feel safe and like Hob is loving him for who he is. All his shame evaporates and Dream starts purring. He's beautiful and strong and Hob loves him so much, maybe even more than before if that's possible. And he's going to make Dream feel loved, every single day for the rest of their lives - that's a promise.

#🦇 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw omegaverse

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ghost-bxrd · 4 months

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ok you said go wild and i will fully embrace that. i wanted to brainstorm about this idea I had and had also posted but like in a sentence, when it’s more of an outline. it’s of a robin!tim that can sense dead people so when the red hood makes his debut he’s naturally curious and tim follows him around and jason obviously realizes, holds up a knife to his throat and startles when tim asks “how are you here” with just no regards for his own safety and genuine curiosity?? literally not knowing he’s jason but jason stops and goes “you know who I am?” and tim whispers “I know you died” and jason coils back because that is as much confirmation as he needs cue panic because the kid knows surely then the bat knows too and that just won’t do, so in his panic he ends up kidnapping the kid and taking him to his safehouse where he keeps pacing because jason needs answers and he refuses to get them torturing the kid (because fucking kid had gone out looking for him despite knowing the red hood had it out of his head, did this kid even have any self preservation skills? he didn’t even seemed fazed jason’s back??which wow, hurt not gonna lie) then when tim wakes up because jason knocked him unconscious the reveal happens and Tim is so shocked that Jason is shocked because bitch I thought you knew!!! what how the fuck would I know!! chaos ensues but then jason abruptly realizes this is great! his plans did not derail *looks at timbo munching his food and watching indiana jones* his plan with the bat he means

Jason, sitting in a room with all his plans on fire: This is fine :’D

No but seriously, I LOVE a Tim with the self preservation instinct of a wet paper towel. He’s a competent teen vigilante, but where it concerns the Bats (and especially his hero, Jason) he’s an absolute human disaster.

Ok but first of all we need to talk a bit more thoroughly about “sensing the dead” thing. Dead as in ghosts? Or dead as in— murder victims and such. Either would apply to Jason if we go with a “Death clings to people who’ve seen beyond the veil” scenario, but Tim’s thoughts would differ vastly upon first meeting the Red Hood.

And Jason, poor Jason, the Pit Madness didn’t stand a chance faced with what is essentially a toddler looking at him with wide and curious eyes, so damn trusting despite that knife to his throat, and he’s just losing his mind because he could have slit Tim’s throat and nobody would have found out until it was too late. What if Jason had been literally anybody else? The kid would have died.

Obviously this Robin can’t be trusted to keep himself safe/alive, that means Jason has to do it for him. Easy. He can do this. It’s cool. Jason is freaking the fuck out.

Tim, upon realizing that the Red Hood is Jason, promptly goes from mildly alarmed over his kidnapping to ✨starstruck✨ and steadfastly refuses to leave Jason’s safehouse unless Jason agrees to come back to the manor. No, he doesn’t care about the multitude of death threats (he totally calls the bluff from the get go).

Jason promptly decides to make the best out of a shitty situation and pretends to be an evil kidnapper and just— keeps dangling the baby bird over Bruce and Dick’s head, slipping them concerning photos (Tim wasn’t exactly happy about the “hostage photo shooting session” but he agreed after Jason promised to make him his special coffee flavored cake) and telling them he’s torturing their Robin with a crowbar (because Jason is a drama queen).

And you know what else would be funny? If, after a few days, Tim slips out to go on patrol with Jason. He completely ignores Bruce and/or Dick when the call out to him and actively helps Hood with his crime stuff (while also sneakily forcing Hood to cut down on the killing by about— 80-90%).

Bruce and Dick are fairly convinced they’re looking at a brainwashing situation.

#brainstorming #jason “’I did not sign up for this’’ Todd #Tim ‘’try getting rid of my NOW bitch’’ drake #and maybe his ability to sense the dead comes in handy with cases #oh who am I kidding it definitely does #Bruce and Dick tearing the city apart looking for Tim #meanwhile Tim: blackmailing Jason into making pancakes with coffee flavor #it’s a disaster from start to finish but somehow it works out #jason todd #batfamily #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #robin #tim drake #red hood

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toxintouch · 10 days

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Love the thought of Mhin’s monster being terrifying; a true threat to your (the MC’s) safety, an insurmountable burden that has destroyed Mhin’s life and that’s why they are so desperate for a cure.

But also…

Thinking about Androcles removing the thorn from the lion’s paw…

The thought that maybe if the monster doesn’t successfully kill you the first time, it will recognize you the second.

That transformation looks like it hurts. Before, after, during.

The idea that it will be a slow process, a dangerous one, but if you can survive, if you can calm it down–

Preening broken feathers. A slow and methodical process, but your heart beats like you’re running for your life. You keep retreating, feather by feather, because you’re not sure how stable this moment of calm is, how long you have before it will try to kill you again.

You gain Mhin’s trust the same way. Slow and methodical. Showing your hands at all times. No sudden movements.

Mhin knows you ran into their Monster–knows that you know. They hate the thought of putting this much faith in another person but they hate the thought that the monster might get out and harm people even more. You could be an ally in this too, they suppose…

They hand over a key to their safe house, show you how to use the security measures they have in place for when they transform. They explain to you how to safely lock them inside–it can be done from either side effectively but Mhin never gives any thought to which side of the door you’d choose to be on…

You start asking Kuras for medical supplies, unable to give any information regarding why you need them. You see someone selling hunting birds and carrier pigeons in the market so you ply them for information, paying them back by shelling out a ridiculous amount of money on whatever care products look like they might be moderately useful.

More preening broken feathers. It seems to–they–seem to understand that you mean to help, now. The process becomes easier. You start carefully removing bits of broken glass you find embedded into them–you’re not sure how it got there, if the glass is something mystical or if they went on a little rampage before you were able to lead them into the safe house. Maybe they’re just like a regular bird and they ran into something by accident. Maybe it’s been there for years because no one’s been around (or able to) take it out.

Does it hurt Mhin, too?

You’re even more determined with that thought, though you have to be so-very-careful because if you startle or hurt them, they become agitated. You’re not sure if they would hurt you on purpose anymore, but they sure as hell could kill you by accident.

It burns your heart to leave some pieces in before Mhin changes back, but you know you have to. You can’t help if you don’t stay safe. And Mhin always makes you promise to look after yourself when they can't.

Mhin transforms back and realizes that it didn’t take so much from them this time, that the usual pain is a little lesser, that they still ache but it isn’t debilitating. They write it off at first but the thought sits at the back of their mind. Filling them with unrest. A thorn in their side that they cannot quite reach...

They go to their safe house to check how the locks are holding up and they notice some things. A large basin for water. Your supplies. A music box, of all things.

Needless to say, they’re horrified. They demand to know what you’re doing. Are you trying to get yourself killed?

“I knew you had no sense but–”

You assure them that you’re taking every precaution.

Besides, aren’t you doing the right thing? It’s totally logical that they (–it , Mhin insists) can get thirsty, of course Mhin is feeling better when they aren’t being locked in an empty room deprived of water half the time.

The monster looks so sad, now that they aren’t trying to hurt you. As they became more used to you, you began to see the parts where they and Mhin overlap. Shared habits. The way they settle down to sleep at night is the same…

Mhin hates the monster inside of them, but you don’t.

#i wrote this so fast i am omw out the door forgive me the are for sure mistakes this is the energy today that we are bringing #Something something loving the parts of someone that they think make them Bad And Terrible #but not in an ‘i can fix you way’ but in an i’m here to support you even when you’re at your lowest’ kinda way #Soft Mhin Hours ft. The Bird Monster #mhin touchstarved #Touchstarved Fanfic #Touchstarved game #grammar edits made next day #the music box is so Atheris-coded btw u know they gotta play their bird some tunes even while their hands are occupied #toxintouch writing #touchstarved Wishlist: Mhin

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anxiousnerdwritings · 1 year

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Do you remember that ask about platonic yandere siblings Loki & Thor with a sibling who lives on Midgard? Can I request sibling!reader inviting their two brothers for Chrismas the Midgardian style? I would imagine Thor being super excited but totally clueless about the whole thing and Loki only showing up because of their sibling and other then that not wanting any part of it lmao

Yan!Brother!Thor and Yan!Brother!Loki Spending Christmas on Midgard w/Sibling!Reader Headcanons (platonic)

When their beloved sibling decided to make Midgard their new home, taking up permanent residence and choosing to live a day to day life similar to any other Midgardian in complete contrast to their godly title back home on Asgard, Thor and Loki we’re devastated. Their sibling was leaving. They were leaving their parents behind. They were leaving Asgard, the only home they’ve ever known, behind. But most importantly they were leaving Thor and Loki behind.

Out of the two, Thor was the quickest to accept you leaving. Of course it helped with you telling him he and Loki can visit whenever and are always welcomed at your new home, as well as promising that you’ll visit once in a while. Not to mention Frigga did her best to ease both Thor’s and Loki’s distress over the new change. As much as Thor still didn’t like the whole thing he was more tolerable of it now. But Loki was a different case.

Loki absolutely detested your moving to Midgard and abandoning your family, abandoning him. His dislike for Midgard and the Midgardians that inhabit it was already pretty bad but now it’s pure unabashed hatred for the place and people that took his beloved sibling away from him. He is somewhat happy that you said he was welcomed to your new home whenever but it doesn’t fix anything for him whatsoever. You shouldn’t need a ‘new home’ not when you already had one to begin with. To say he’s salty is an understatement, Loki is extremely sulky and resentful of the entire thing altogether and nothing could make him come around to it. The only thing that would make him truly happy is having you back home where you belong.

Also, when Loki first learns about you leaving to Midgard he wholeheartedly believes you’re leaving because of him and his ‘God of Mischief’ antics. There would no doubt be a moment of him bursting into your bedchambers on Asgard, a sobbing and inconsolable mess begging you to stay, that he’ll be good from now on if it means you won’t leave him. He doesn’t care how weak or pathetic he looks and sounds, you’re the only one he ever felt he could allow himself to be this way with because he knew you wouldn’t judge him and you sure as hell wouldn’t tell a soul about it. Even if you did find him pathetic yourself, you at least didn’t utter a word regarding it.

It takes a lot of getting use to now that they don’t have you around. They both miss talking with you, laughing with you, running around and playing games with you (even if all of you were too old for playing games, it was still very much a part of your lives). Thor is a sulking mess, not nearly as boisterous and shining as he was before. Loki doesn’t even feel like playing tricks on any one, let alone Thor and keeps to himself more than ever, barely leaving his own bedchambers unless Frigga comes to drag him out herself.

Speaking of Frigga, she is very much the glue that keeps both Thor and Loki from letting their despair swallow them whole. She assures them that you are doing well, that you are safe and happy but it doesn’t change their moods too much. It does ease them some but it also leads them to miss you all the more. They wish you were safe and happy with them here on Asgard. No matter how frustrating and unwilling either are to pull themselves out of their funk, Frigga never ceases to do what she can to keep them from dwelling too long in the dark.

It’s slow and little by little but eventually Thor is getting back to his usual self and Loki is getting back to his old mischievous habits, albeit they’re a tad bit more cruel but it’s something. It isn’t until Odin announces that you’ll be making a visit to Asgard that they both perk up more than ever since you’ve been gone. Neither can conceal their excitement at being able to see, talk, and touch you. Just being able to be in your presence again has both Thor and Loki ecstatic.

When you’re finally there in the flesh with them again it’s the reunion that all of Asgard had been waiting for with bated breath. Thor can’t help himself and immediately engulfs his precious sibling in a bone crushing hug but they happily accept it having missed him and his infamous hugs. It feels like forever before he’s made to let go courtesy of Loki wanting to finally greet his beloved sibling after being a part for so long. He envelopes you in a hug too, not nearly like Thor’s but it’s still a tight hold. He keeps it more under wraps than Thor had but just wait until there’s no one else around and he’ll be latched on to you like a second skin.

It feels so good to have the three of you together again. Frigga and Odin can’t help but admire the wholesome sight before them. Their little family was back together again and it felt so right.

During their sibling’s entire visit, Thor and Loki are attached to either side of them the whole time. Neither of them step away for any reason and everyone around knows better then to try and pull them away. If someone were to be idiotic enough to try, Thor and Loki put them in their place without hesitation. Nothing is keeping them from missing out on getting to be with their precious sibling again after what’s felt like an eternity without them.

It isn’t until the very last day of their visit, maybe even right before they’re about to leave, that they invite both Thor and Loki to spend what the Midgardians call “Christmas” with them at their new home. Neither Thor or Loki are sure about what this “Christmas” is but the way their eyes lit up and the smile that spread across their lips showed just how much this “Chsirtmas” thing was to them. And who were both Thor and Loki to refuse an invitation to spend even more time with their beloved sibling. Even if Loki could careless about Midgard and the Midgardians, he wouldn’t miss out on this if it meant so much to his sibling.

Thor and Loki would show up a few days in advance before actual Christmas Day just to spend some more time with you and get a feel for what this whole “Christmas” thing was exactly. Thor is excited to not only get to see and be with you but also to take in everything. He may as well be jumping up like a toddler hyped up on sugar. Meanwhile, Loki couldn’t be more uncomfortable and disgusted from what he’s seen so far of Midgard. This was the place you left them and Asgard for? It doesn’t look like much at all, let alone something worth your time.

Once they are at your home and in your company they are greeted to bright lights, an array of odd decor, and a tree heavily decorated from stump to treetop with various shiny and dangling things as well as more lights and some sparkly stuff called ‘garland’. It really is a sight to behold never having seen it before and it certainly appears that you went all out for it. Thor is absolutely captivated by everything he sees and he wants to touch it all but the first ornament he reaches out for breaks within seconds. Meanwhile, as taken aback as Loki is he still isn’t too fazed by it. Honestly you could have all of this and more back home on Asgard. He doesn’t really care about the bright lights, or shiny decorations, or even the stupid ridiculous tree (he of course wouldn’t tell you that). All he wants is to spend time with you and convince you to come home.

After they get all settled you tell them all about what Christmas means to Midgardians and the traditions they follow in regards to it. Thor is all ears, completely captivated by each and every word you say explaining everything. Meanwhile, Loki is also listening intently but he’s much more subtle about it. He still doesn’t get it but if you’re so invested in it then he’ll be along for the ride he supposes.

You tell them all about the foods and deserts they make to eat on the special day, the songs they sing, the cartoons and shows they watch, and last but not least the gift giving that takes place. Everything so far has had both of their attention but that last one about gifts is what really gets them. They didn’t bring you any gifts. They hadn’t thought about it. You didn’t say anything about gifts. Okay, now they’re both inwardly panicking cause they’ve come empty handed. Loki could of course use his magic to give you something but Thor is at a loss. He may even pester Loki into conjuring something up for Thor to give you. But they have a few days to come up with something, right? That’s plenty of time!

The days leading up to Christmas are spent showing both Thor and Loki around Midgard and to your favorite places. You make the point to tell them that around this time of year things get much more hectic then they usually are but you don’t mind too much, if anything you like watching the hustle and bustle. But both Thor and Loki look and feel so out of place, they’re grateful they have you to guide them but they feel completely out of their element, especially Loki.

Christmas Eve is when you spend the whole day prepping for the Christmas Day feats you have planned and what feast it’ll be with Thor there. Both Thor and Loki help where they can with what they can but Loki is the one who ends up doing the better job out of the two only because Thor either ends up breaking something or burning something but he’s content doing whatever as long as he’s involved. Although inevitably the two make a contest out of whatever it is they’re doing, especially if it’s the same task.

Both Thor and Loki are appreciative and happy when you add some Asgardian traditions to the mix, whether with some of the foods and goodies you make or maybe even in some of the home decor they hadn’t noticed before. They’re both very relieved that you haven’t completely cut Asgard out of your life and you have things that remind you of them and your old home.

When it comes time to bake cookies and decorate them, Thor can’t wait. He’s making all different shapes and sizes, decorating them all over the place that by the end of it he’s covered in an array of icing, sprinkles and probably some odd bits of cookie dough. Loki somehow manages to stay clean and pristine through the whole process, not only that but all his cookies are immaculate and even. It may result in a bit of quarrel between the two but you’re able to calm them down.

If you were to wipe some icing on or sprinkle some sprinkles on Loki then he’d just accept it but there will be retaliation and he’ll do the same thing to you. Of course Thor gets involved and by the end of it all of you are more decorated with icing and sprinkles then the actual cookies are.

When met the aspect of wearing matching pajamas or sweaters, Thor is absolutely all for it. Loki takes a bit to come around to putting either on and when he does he does so begrudgingly but really he actually likes it. Especially since you picked them out. If you were to have made the pajama or sweaters yourself then both Thor and Loki would treat them like the most precious and fragile things in existence. They would be so careful wearing them, doing their absolute best to keep them in good condition.

If their sibling were to have gone out of their way to get a small Christmas tree and a few little decorations to put on it so that Thor and Loki could experience decorating a tree alongside their sibling would make them both melt. Thor does his damndest to be gentle and gingerly when putting anything on the tree. He doesn’t want to ruin it and in turn ruin the moment they’re all sharing together. Loki acts like this whole thing isn’t a big deal but deep down it is. Their sibling had already excitedly and impulsively decorated their home and the tree before Thor and himself got there but still wanted to share this part of the tradition with them.

It would really make Loki feel nice and warm inside that they went out and did that for him and Thor. He was working his way to warming up to this whole Christmas thing. But what would make it even better was if it was on Asgard, where the three of you, Frigga and maybe Odin could all be doing this and celebrating together like a family if only you’d come back home. To your real home, leaving this pretend one behind.

When Christmas Day is finally here, your excitement for the day is enough to get Thor and Loki in the spirit. Thor is very much more open and outwardly showing his fondness for it while. While even though Loki is willing to participate and go along with it he still isn’t nearly as fond of the whole aspect as you and Thor are. But seeing you glowing with joy would keep him biting his tongue and going with whatever.

Now when you hand them their gifts that you’ve been desperately trying to keep as much of a surprise as possible both Thor and Loki are excited and anxious to see what you’ve gotten them, especially since they’re pretty sure it’s Midgardian related. No matter what it is they both would absolutely cherish it to no end. Even Loki who could careless about Midgard and everything to do with it because it took you away from him would be utterly infatuated with what you gifted him. As long as it’s from you and the fact that you looked so worried about how either of them would react to their gifts, in particular keeping more of a close eye on him and his reaction specifically, that it automatically makes his gift the best thing he’s ever received from anyone.

Thor is also extremely elated with his gift. You may have to tell him what it is or how it works but he loves it nonetheless and it will become his most prized possession. As would Loki’s gift becoming Loki’s very own prized possession that he would keep in the safest place where only he could have access to it.

After that it’s time for your gifts. Both Thor and Loki take out the gifts they had very quickly and sloppily put together for you. Thor’s wrapping was of course messy and scrunched up but it was obvious he had tried his very best. Meanwhile, of course Loki’s wrapping was immaculate probably having used his magic to do it for him but still it was lovely all the same. Handing the gifts off to you, Thor and Loki sit back anxiously awaiting your own reaction similar to how you had been earlier. They doth wait with bated breath hoping that you love what they rushed to put together for you.

They both got you something to remind you of not only them but also Asgard as a whole. They had even gone back to Asgard at some point and gotten Frigga to add her own gifts into the mix as well as Heimdall and a few others. As much as Thor wanted you to come back home he also realized just how truly happy you seemed during your visit when talking about Midgard and your adventures there. Asgard would always be there for you but while you were making a home on Midgard you may as well be surrounded but things to remind of your original home and the family that was there waiting for you.

Loki wants you to come back home no matter what and he would be the one to drag you back. But having talked again with mother and hearing her explain things he supposed he could wait for a bit before trying to enact any attempts at being you home. He also gifted you something that would remind you of him and of him so you’d never forget about what was there for you when you were finally over this Midgardian phase. It would be something you could always wear; a ring, necklace, bracelet/cuff, a hair piece, broach, etc. But it wouldn’t be any ordinary piece, it would be fitted with the most valuable and beautiful jewel or jewels found in all of the nine realms. Not to mention Loki has definitely used his magic to do something to it to keep you and him connected without you knowing about it. Whether it’s to keep track of you and wherever you may be, or it’s had a protective spell cast on it to keep you safe, or maybe it allows him to hear and feel your heartbeat so he can feel closer to you while being so far apart.

Both Thor and Loki would freak out if their sibling were burst into tears at the gifts they got them and the people from Asgard they brought into it. The homesickness would really kick in after all of that. Thor and Loki would both rush to comfort their sibling and calm them down. If their sibling were to make some wholesome comment about family being the best gift of all or something like that it would have Thor smiling like an idiot and Loki smiling softly at them.

The rest of the day would be filled with fun and laughter. Thor would of course have to tell you about how much difficulty Loki had trying to wrap his gift for you and very loudly might I had. It would be even funnier if Loki’s perfect and pristine gift was actually wrapped by Thor while Thor’s scrunched up and messily wrapped gift was Loki’s actual wrapping job. Loki would be utterly ashamed that Thor threw him under the bus like that but he would get him back later. Probably with a snowball to the face cause of course there has to be a snowball fight. And making snow angels but that’ll be saved for after the carnage that takes place when the snowball fight starts up.

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raina-at · 11 months

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Pride

I owe you two ficlets, to make the 31 complete. Here's the first, to mark the beginning of Pride Month.

John realises he’s bisexual around the time Harry comes out to her parents. But their reaction scares him so much he crawls back into the closet and nails the door shut.

It’s fine. He’s bi, after all. He’s fine with girls. Girls are wonderful. No reason to ever open that door again, no need to make a fuss.

He’s fine for years. He dates a few lovely women at Uni and in medical school, he has flings and relationships and everything in between. He doesn’t think about the door at all, mostly. If there’s a chap who catches his eye occasionally, he shrugs it off. No harm in a bit of a look.

He falls in love with a man in Afghanistan. But Sholto is as unattainable as he is magnetic. The difference in rank alone would be enough to make any relationship between them impossible. But if John’s sexuality is a door he nailed shut, Sholto’s is a titanium safe buried at the bottom of the Mariana Trench. They kiss once, when they’re both very, very, very drunk, and they never speak of it again.

It’s fine. Well, to be honest, it hurts like fuck, but it’s fine. It can’t be, for many reasons, and in a way, John is almost relieved. He doesn’t have to make a decision. He doesn’t have to open that door. It hurts, but it's safe.

Then he meets Sherlock Holmes and he’s completely, totally fucked. The door is in shambles, and there’s his heart, bursting out of his chest and into Sherlock’s hands before the ink is dry on the lease agreement.

The thing about Sherlock is, he isn’t safe. At all. Not even a little bit. Sherlock wouldn’t be safe if John was completely comfortable with his sexuality (which he obviously isn’t). Sherlock is explosive, and unpredictable, and magnetic, and gorgeous, and John loves him, loves him, loves him.

But there’s two problems. One is that John is never, ever sure of Sherlock. Ever. And that’s part of the charm, of course, but if the person holding your heart in his hands can’t be relied on not to quash it into mush, it makes going any further very difficult. The second is that John isn’t sure of himself. He’s not sure he has the courage to be out of that comfortable closet he built for himself. There would be questions. And he’s not sure he’s ready for that.

But they have time. He can learn to trust Sherlock with his heart, and he can learn to trust himself.

Then Sherlock jumps, and John wants to die, too.

If John is honest, the next few years are a bit of a blur, and he feels like he spends them in a half-trance of unreality. He suddenly snaps back to reality when he’s standing at an altar and marrying a woman he barely knows with Sherlock watching with an expression in his eyes that hurts.

Things go to absolute shit afterwards, which is truly impressive, given how bad things were before. The next two years are an absolute horrorshow, and John would like to erase that whole awful time from his harddrive.

He comes out of the ashes his life has turned to with two things still standing: His daughter, who is delightful, and Sherlock, who proved once and for all that for better or worse is a promise he can make and keep. And he feels the strong urge to be a better man, for both of them.

So when he finally feels like the ground under his feet has stopped constantly shifting, he goes back to that closet door. He removes the boards he used to nail it shut, and he opens it. He has a good, hard look at what he wants and who he is, and finds that actually, he’s good enough. Maybe he even deserves to be loved.

He finds his heart at the bottom of that closet. It’s battered and beaten, but still strong. He dusts it off and hands it back to Sherlock Holmes, who takes it with gentle hands and smiles.

And that’s when John realises that he had Sherlock’s heart in the palm of his hand the whole time. It’s as battered and beaten as John’s, but as strong. A lot of its wounds are self-inflicted, like John’s, and a lot of the blows they dealt to each other. This stops now, John thinks. I’ll guard your heart and you’ll guard mine. And that fucking door stays open.

He’s 43 when he gets married to a man, their proud daughter at their side.

There are questions. And looks. And people with opinions.

But John knows now that people’s hate can’t hurt him if he doesn’t hate himself, and that anybody who doesn’t want him to be happy isn’t worth his time. And he knows he has to show this to his daughter every day, so she won’t end up feeling like she has to nail shut a part of herself to fit in.

So he paints the door in rainbow colours and leaves it wide open, and he lives his life.

And he’s happy.

Happy Pride, everyone.

Tags under the cut as usual.

@calaisreno @iamjustreading @discordantwords @hotshoeagain @totallysilvergirl @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @keirgreeneyes @thetimemoves @the-reading-lemon @7-percent @catlock-holmes @macgyvershe @jrow @shiplocks-of-love @mydogwatson @fluffbyday-smutbynight @khorazir

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #johnlock fic #my fic #pride month #may 2023 prompts #I still owe you one

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seasidepierre · 10 months

Text

sunkissed face part 8 | charles leclerc

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS MASTERLIST

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

summary: You’ve been in love with your best friend Harrison for quite a while now but when Tom, Harrison and Tuwaine go on a trip to Monaco for the F1 Grand Prix, you’re quick to tag along, even though it means spending time with Harrison’s girlfriend.

warnings: I’ve left them alone for quite a bit so they’re full of fluff.

words count: 6k

a/n: I’m sorry it took so much time, I can’t promise the next update will be quicker, I promise I love them to bits but I suck at sticking to one task. The “meeting your dad” little blurb I had made its way to this part, though I added a few bits and bobs around it, so you don’t have exactly the same thing. It made sense to have it there, I hope you don’t mind Xx

“I’ll see you in two weeks,” Charles whispered against your lips in the middle of a business lounge in the airport in Nice. “Just two little weeks and I’ll all yours.” “I know,” you sighed. “Two weeks is manageable, right?” “It totally is,” he smiled, raising the corners of your lips along with his. He sounded like he was trying to convince both you and himself. “We’ll barely notice them passing by. Two little weeks.”

He took a step back, keeping an arm around your hips, counting on his fingers and muttering the numbers in French underneath his breath.

“Quinze dodos. Fifteen sleeps,” he grinned. “You’re the dorkiest,” you laughed. “You love it.” “I kinda do,” you nodded.

You were far from saying those three little words. You weren’t sure you felt them quite yet, but you did love the dork side of Charles, like his looks didn’t quite match the child that was still trapped inside his soul, sometimes.

“Wait.. Fifteen?” you realised. “I could come on the Monday?” He sheepishly suggested, a blush slowly creeping on his neck. “That would be nice,” you whispered, resting your head on his chest. “My bed seems too big when you’re not there.” “I will come fix that issue, then,” he promised, with a kiss on your forehead. “You should go, you’re gonna miss your flight.” “Do I really have to go?” You whined, pushing your face deeper into his shirt. “I’m afraid you do..”

You didn’t say goodbye, when you left. You raised on your tippy toes, gave him a quick kiss, then waved before you had to say it. Because saying goodbye felt too harsh and too final. “See you later” could have worked, but it still meant leaving and you didn’t like it either. So you just waved and Charles waved back from the other side of the window. You were clad in the hoodie that you were supposed to give him back. Charles said it was yours, now, and you didn’t have to say thanks because your happy grin sufficed. During the weekend, he had worn it for as long as he could and you were pretty sure he did spray way too much perfume on it, just for the sake of sending you back home with something you’d be able to cling onto.

The AC in the plane was on full blast, you thought, as a shiver ran down your spine. The sun was no longer on your face and you couldn’t bask in Charles’ warmth anymore. You shook a little and slipped your hands in the pocket of the jumper, only to find a wrapped up candy from the hotel you just left. You had no idea where it came from, because you didn’t wear that hoodie much during the weekend, since Charles was the one sporting it the most. He must have hidden it for you to find, you realised, and you smiled at the attention.

Fifteen sleeps. Quinze dodos.

☀️

Those fifteen sleeps went by a blur. You went to work on a Monday morning and on the evening, Charles was sitting in the hall of your flat, waiting for you to come home. You opened the door to him without a word, grabbing his hand effortlessly, leading him in what he now knew to be your safe space. You didn’t eat dinner that evening, you just went straight to bed, peeled off each other’s clothes and kissed every parcel of skin you could find. You slept for a blissful ten hours, your head lodged in the crook of his shoulder and his nose resting on top of your skull, your legs intertwined just as tightly as your fingers. Charles knew you had work to do and you couldn’t just pretend that life didn’t exist outside of these walls. So he woke up a bit earlier than you did, cooked breakfast (or most likely, toasted bread and spread butter and jam on each piece of toast) and made tea in a pale yellow mug that had small golden stars on it, because it looked cute and he instantly liked it. He knew that you liked your tea with only one cube of brown sugar and that your favourite tea was the one berry-flavoured. You didn’t have a tray for his very romantic idea of a breakfast in bed, but you did have a large pan that worked wonder in bringing everything to you. That morning, you got woken up by hot tea vapours and small kisses along your jaw, only matched in their softness by the fingers that sneaked between the sheets to find your bare hip.

Charles will later say that you woke up with a small on your face and that it was all he could hope for. You ate in silence, because there was nothing you could say to explain how full your heart felt that morning and Charles seemed to be in the same state of mind. He took you to the shower, washed your hair, lathered your body in foam and couldn’t help himself to a lazy morning shower sex, just because he could and just because he wanted to make you happy. Then he redid the whole foam on the body, because it felt like the right thing to do.

You left for work before you could change your mind, with a kiss and, finally, his first words since he arrived in your building being “Have a nice day, work well and come back fast.” You’d argue you tried your best to have the shortest day at the office you could have. He’d argue that the day felt endlessly long.

On the evening, you ate in bed after Charles jumped on you the second you were home, naked but blissful, in a post orgasm state that rivalled the feeling they must be experiencing in heaven.

“Do you think your dad will like me?” Charles whispered, the words dying between your own lips. “He’s gonna love you,” you reassured him, eyes closed, head on the pillow, fighting to stay awake. “I’m kinda nervous.” “You shouldn’t be,” you breathed out before finally succumbing to sleep.

☀️

Tom called during the week, to ask how you were doing and if you were going to Silverstone. You said you were and that you were happy.

“Lover boy in London?” He laughed. “He is,” You smiled softly at the phone. “What is he doing during the day? Since you’re at work, you know..” “I actually have no idea. He’s hanging out at the flat. He’s resting. I think he had a debrief on the phone with the team, yesterday.” “Do you think I could take him out for lunch?” “I dunno,” you shrugged. “Call him, ask him yourself. But why do you want to have a date with him?” “I dunno,” he repeated. “To chat, I guess.” “Tom, I don’t have an older brother and you don’t need to fill that role,” you groaned. “I mean, I kinda do, actually.” “No you don’t,” you argued. “I’m happy. He’s good to me, Tommy.” “I know. But the last time I saw you in love, you ended up in tears more than I could ever handle it once again.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see nor hear it. Tom had seen you being miserably in love with Harrison for longer than you’d realise. He knew before you admitted it, actually. He had dried your tears too many times to forget about it. He had supported you through everything, without a word. And it was Harrison, it was both your best friend. Now this was a guy he didn’t really know, beyond the occasional hangouts or texts, and while he’d agree that Charles seemed to be a good guy, he wanted to make sure. You couldn’t quite deny him that one.

“You have his Instagram. Ask him yourself.” “I will.”

On the evening you came back home, Tom was sitting in the flat, with a PlayStation that you knew from his living room. He had taken everything apart just to bring it to your place and bags of takeout were sitting on the kitchen counters.

“Hi boys,” You smiled.

They barely mumbled their hellos back to you, engrossed in a game of Fifa that you couldn’t begin to understand. You smiled at your favourite boys together, noticing the similarities and the differences in just a glance. Tom was obviously shorter but he seemed broader, while Charles was slimmer and taller. Both had short dark hair, both held kindness in their eyes and both would follow you to the end of the Earth if it meant having you happy. Your heart warmed at the realisation that you were so incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such great souls.

You made dinner, a simple dish of pasta because Charles was still on a diet and Andrea would have his head on a pike if he went for anything that would mess it all up. Tom stayed for dinner, eating with you two, talking about your day and everything in your lives. Charles told him everything he could about F1. Tom told him everything he could about Marvel movies. Both revealed secrets they shouldn’t have but promised to never peep a word about it. They joked at your expense sometimes, though Charles was quick to drape your hand with his after, as if he needed to apologise for the teasing and reassure you that he didn’t truly mean it.

“You got a good one,” Tom said before he left. “It didn’t feel like your place anymore,” he added. “He fits in there perfectly,” he concluded, before dropping a kiss on your cheek and leaving in the dusk of the night, his PlayStation underneath his arm. “Do you think Tom will be at Silverstone?” Charles asked. “I think so, why?” “He ruined me at Fifa, I need a revenge,” he shrugged.

You did get a good one, you grinned.

☀️

Soon enough it was Thursday and Charles had to leave for his work, emptying your flat from his infectious smile and smell, again. But that was okay, because you had managed to score a Friday off and you would be joining him at the track just the day after. Un dodo. Just one sleep.

Andrea was kind enough to fetch you from the garage when you arrived on the Friday morning and Charles was already in a briefing. You met with one of the most important people in Charles’ life and Andrea was nothing but nice. He spoke in an even more broken English than Charles, thick with his Italian accent, but he was funny and spoke highly of Charles, so you automatically liked him. He told you Charles had insisted that you were to be in his driver’s room when he’d finally get out of his meet so you listened to Andrea’s stories for about an hour before Charles came barging in the room like a mad man. You were in his arms before you could say hi and before Andrea could even react.

“If only your reflexes could be quick like that all the time,” Andrea muttered.

That made you laugh and Charles grinned in return, happy to hear that sound again, as if you had been separated for more than 24 hours. You had lunch with Charles and Andrea, you met a good part of Charles’ team, some of them remembering you from the French GP, but this time you were properly introduced. The “girlfriend” label was quite already attached to the nape of your neck, but you could feel it looming above your head and for the first time, you didn’t suffocate with the idea of belonging to anybody else than Harrison. You were thrilled by the prospect, actually.

The Friday went by slowly and you sat in the garage with a pair of headphones, learning as much as you could and basking in the fumes of oil, rubber and car exhaust. The air was thick with warmth and mechanical particles, but you liked being there. Andrea was entertaining and you couldn’t ask for more. On the evening, the qualifications for the Sprint race happened and you spent the whole session crossing your fingers. Charles ended up P4, which wasn’t amazing, but it also meant that he could skip the top 3 interviews and be back to you quicker. He had to find positives everywhere.

The Saturday was another deal and while you wished your dad could be there, you knew he would still have the time of his life on the Sunday. With such short notice, he couldn’t manage to get out of work but you promised you’d have an extraordinary Sunday, which Charles had been starting to plan.

Charles was wearing his red pants when you walked in the paddock. You had taken a taxi from the hotel, because Charles let you sleep and because you had asked for it, the night prior. You knew media and fans would be waiting for Charles to arrive on the track and you didn’t want to attract attention while you still didn’t quite know what you were. So you met with Andrea again, who brought you to the garage, where Charles was settling the last details before the second free practice session. He kissed you before he went to drive and you tapped gently on his helmet, knocking lightly on it.

“What was it for?” He chuckled. “Knocking on wood. Good luck out there, be fast but be careful.”

It must have been a lucky charm because he ended the session P2, with not only half a second that separated him from Max Verstappen, who you knew to be bloody good. For the Sprint Race, you couldn’t do it and it brought Charles back to the P4 spot, just as he had been before the race. Nothing lost, but nothing gained either. Charles was frustrated. Relieved that he wasn’t starting lower on the grid, but frustrated that he couldn’t grab a point, when he was just three seconds behind Valtteri Bottas.

That night, Charles went to the gym and you sat on the floor, watching a movie on your phone while Andrea was shouting in Italian words that you couldn’t even start to comprehend. You watched the coat of sweat on Charles’ forehead turn into sweat stains on his shirt and after an hour, when his breath was so short he sounded like he was about to pass out, you got your man back and helped him in the shower because his arms were so tired from lifting weights, he couldn’t even reach his hair. So you scrubbed every bit of his body that you could and let him turn putty in your hands, groaning when you pressed the palms of your hands in the knots on his shoulder blades, as you tried to relieve the tension.

That night, you didn’t even try anything funny, because Charles needed to rest and because Andrea had said “You sleep tonight, Lover Boy, you hear me?” and you were kinda scared that he would know, one way or another. You liked Andrea, but not to the point of having him know your sexual activity. So you went to bed and slipped beneath the covers after Charles, because you still had a few minutes to watch on your movie and you wanted to know the end. When you finally made it to the hotel bed, Charles was asleep face first in your pillow, the duvet low on his back and you could see the small dimples on each side of his lower spine. You slid behind him, kissed each shoulder blade and slipped your arms around his stomach, spooning him.

“This is the other way around, normally,” he mumbled, sleepily. “Do you want to turn around?”

A small silence followed by a sleepy breath was all you needed to know that you wouldn’t move one bit.

“I like it when you hold me,” he admitted.

You never got to tell him that you liked holding him more than he liked you holding him. He was already asleep when you came to that conclusion.

☀️

You had no idea how you managed to keep the secret for that long, but damn it did feel glorious to watch your dad’s face crumble as you presented him with a paddock pass with his name and face on it. The lanyard was neon green, branded with the F1 logo and as you passed it around his neck, you were almost certain that tears were welling up in his eyes.

And he wasn’t even close to the biggest surprise yet.

When Charles invited you to Silverstone, you were ecstatic to say the least. You had already planned to go but couldn’t have found cheap tickets and were on the lookout for resellers who might sell their tickets back. You only needed two, one for you and one for your dad, but you only had managed to almost get scammed in the process. So when Charles offered for you to be his guest, you had one condition and one only: you and your dad were a package deal. Charles was so happy to comply, it filled your heart with warmth and happiness. The fact that he was adamant that you would only come with your dad was absolutely adorable and even more so when he learned that you hadn’t told him anything about the fact that you were seeing each other. Dating? Was he your boyfriend? He had no idea and to be honest, he wasn’t as pressed about it either. He was just glad to spend time with you, whether it was to kiss you and cuddle with you or just to talk. If you wanted him to be your boyfriend, he would gladly be so. If you wanted to introduce him to your dad as just a friend, he would smile and shake his hand either way. This wasn’t time for the big debates on whether or not you were his girlfriend. And you were thankful for that.

“How the hell are we in the paddock?” Your dad kept muttering, walking next to you. “I told you, I got those passes through someone I know,” you grinned. “Do I have to send a gift basket to Tom again?” Your dad rolled his eyes. “I love this kid to death but he has to stop with the gifts.” “It’s not Tom,” you giggled. “But you’re gonna like him either way.” “Oh so it’s a “he”, then,” your dad teased. “Stop digging for intel, you’re gonna know soon anyway,” you laughed.

The more you walked through the paddock, the faster your heart beat. You hadn’t seen Charles in almost a month, ever since you left from the French GP with an usual hole in your chest, shaped like your favorite monégasque. You had texted and called, of course, and you had watched every bit of content you could find to feel closer to him but nothing would ever replace the feeling of his arms around your waist and of his lips on the crook of your neck. You couldn’t wait to get him back.

The walk in the paddock still felt foreign and if it wasn’t for the couple of familiar faces that you crossed path with, you could have felt terribly out of place. But you kept on walking, waving back at Pierre who you properly met about a month ago and who had followed you on Instagram to chat, in the following days of your meeting.

Next to you, your dad gasped at your familiarity with the driver, making you stop wondering where your fangirl tendency could have come from. Your dad was a fangirl. There was no way you didn’t inherit those genes from him. There was no way you would be able to contain your giggles either when he’d finally understand that you were headed to the Ferrari garage.

“I’m not sure we’re supposed to be going to this part of the paddock”, your dad mumbled, a bit embarrassed and turning shier by the second. “I’m certain we are,” you teased back, dragging him by the arm until you crossed the row of trucks with the different teams’ logos on them. “Holy shit, this is the actual pitlane,” your dad almost sobbed. “This is incredible. How the heck am I here?” “Wait until you see where we’re gonna watch the race,” you grinned mischievously.

Charles had been the best sport you could find. He knew how much you owed your dad for your love of Formula One and since it was his first time meeting him, he wanted to impress. He had scored you two seats inside the garage, so you could follow the race on the different screens and watch the pit stops happen in real time. You would be basking in the racing vibes of the Scuderia and he had already planned to shower you with enough merch to last a lifetime. Your dad was about to combust and he wanted to make sure of it. Selfishly, he also wanted to make a good first impression. Not that he was trying to buy your dad, but if he was.. The way to your dad’s heart was about to be easier than ever expected…

“Oh Lord, can we walk up to the Ferrari garage? Is that allowed? Or are we gonna get booted out of here?” “Sure, let’s walk to the Ferrari garage,” you laughed. “Maybe.. Maybe not so close. I don’t want to get shooed away. Stop- What the bloody hell are you doing? You can’t just walk into a garage!! Oh my Lord, I raised a complete nutcase,” your dad spilled out so fast it was actually comical. “Dad, welcome to the Ferrari garage,” You grinned, opening an arm to welcome him in, as if you had any say over who’s allowed in and who isn’t.

You didn’t have much time before you could warn him about what happened. One second you were trying not to explode in tears of laughter in front of his bewildered face and the next, a head was nested in the little space between your shoulder and your neck. You raised a gentle hand, resting it in the messy hair that you could feel tickling your skin and smiled at the familiar feeling of Charles hugging you from behind. He dropped a gentle kiss on your skin, squeezing your sides in his grabby hands and immediately straightened back up to face your father, whose mouth was shaped as a perfect O and who couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

“Dad, I want you to meet Charles,” you introduced them both. “Charles, this is my dad, possibly your biggest fan,” You giggled. “It’s an honor to meet you, Sir,” Charles started, presenting a hand to your dad. “I heard I was to thank you for raising a Ferrari fan as a daughter. I must say I’m super grateful for that, meeting your daughter has been a highlight of my year.” “Shut. Up,” Your dad spat. “You know Charles Leclerc?!” He whisper-yelled at you. “You know Charles Leclerc and you didn’t tell me anything?!” “Dad, he can hear you,” you laughed. “Yes, I know Charles.” “Was he the one whose hand I could see on that car in Monaco? Were you that hand?!” He finally addressed Charles, who was still waiting to shake his hand. “I’m quite sure I was,” Charles blushed, amused. “Your daughter’s been a delight to have around in Monaco.” “Oh my God, this is the best day of my life, I need to sit down,” your dad started to hyperventilate. “She’s hanging out with a Ferrari driver and she doesn’t bloody tell me. This is the best thing in my life right now,” he ranted. “Dad, Charles is still waiting to shake your hand,” you smiled. “Oh yeah, sorry Son, yeah, ahem, big fan,” your dad blushed (blushed!!), finally greeting Charles. “Phenomenal drive. Such bad luck in Monaco. My my. Love what you’re doing. You’re the best. Hope you win today.” “That’s the goal, I’ll do my best. In the meantime, you’re welcome to watch the race from here. There’s a seat with your name on it. Well, not quite literally, but you know what I mean. I also got you a pair of headphones so you could listen to my radio, in case you’re interested in that. It protects the ears from the loud noises, too.” “Oh man, I think I’m gonna fall in love with you,” your father almost cried, before launching himself to the chair waiting for him like he had fire underneath his ass. “You think I made a good impression?” Charles almost grimaced. “I think he already loves you very much,” you replied, amused. “You made his entire year. Thank you for everything, it means the world to me to have him experience such a thing.” “Then it means the world to me too. Anything for you,” he smiled. “Am I allowed to kiss you or is that tempting my luck too much?” He cringed. “You are absolutely 100% allowed to kiss me,” you smiled, rising to your tippy toes to kiss him yourself. “He’s deep into a screen, watching the replays of your onboard anyway.” “I’m glad he likes me,” Charles sighed, relieved. “What can I say? Must be a family thing,” you joked, kissing him again.

Your dad was already engrossed in the screens in front of him. He looked just as home as you were, clad in a Ferrari shirt that he had chosen that morning without knowing where he’d be. You were wearing one of Charles’ shirt, which you were grateful that your father had not really brought to attention, but you knew your friends who were currently marching down the paddock would. You’d see them later, probably after the race, you thought, but that was without counting on Charles who had managed to outdo himself and score two passes for the grid walk, for you and your dad. The fact that your father’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears as he took Charles in his arms was enough to bring tears to yours, silently thanking Charles, even though he couldn’t see your mouth beneath the face mask you still had to sport. Charles nodded above your dad’s shoulder and you thought, just for a minute, that you couldn’t be happier that your heart stopped being stubborn and chose to move on with Charles. He wasn’t just a great rebound, he was everything you could hope and wish for. The fact that he went ahead and tried to make this even more magical for your dad was all the proof you needed that you were in for the long term. The grid was busy as ever, with celebrities looking either ecstatic or completely bored. You almost stumbled onto Will.I.Am and barely had time to apologise before an engineer pushed you to the side. With a bit of a struggle, you made your way around the cars, taking pictures of your dad in front of each one of them, just because you didn’t know when you’d be able to do that again and because he deserved every picture he could get. You even got one of him and Charles chatting for a second before Charles had to put on his helmet again. To say your father was impressed would be an understatement, but you couldn’t ignore the grin that appeared on his mouth just like on the Cheshire Cat’s when Charles gently grabbed your forearm and dropped his helmeted head to your level, without a word. You frowned for a second, then remembered your little moment the day before. With a giggle, you knocked twice on the helmet, muttering “Knocking on wood, be fast but be careful”, which got him smiling, if you trusted the corners of his eyes through the open visor.

“So you and Charles, huh?” Your dad teased. “Yeah. It’s new, but he’s good to me, Dad.” “I can see that. The fact that he went above and beyond for your old fart of a father was enough for me to see that.” “He truly did all of that, huh?” “He did. This is the best day of my life,” your dad grinned. “Now, let’s enjoy the racing and push behind our guy to win.”

Our guy. That sounded just about right.

☀️

To say that your dad was fuming wouldn’t even bring justice to the state he was in. When Lewis Hamilton passed him, you believed he was going to go to the engineers and push all the buttons to release an extra boost of power himself. But there was nothing he could have done and nothing else to do but watch as Charles lost the lead of a race that you truly believed he could have won and that would have made your father so happy it would have been an actual joke. When Charles crossed the line second, your father slapped his cap on the railing in front of you and you sighed with frustration. You knew you were supposed to be happy for a podium, but he had been so close to win in front of you, in front of your dad, that you couldn’t help but be a bit sad for him.

Andrea was the one who pushed you to the bottom of the podium with your dad in tow. You wouldn’t be close to the parc fermé barriers but you would be there for the podium, at least, and Andrea promised he would get you two as close as possible to both the podium, then the doors, so you could get back to Charles for a couple of minutes before he’d have to go through the whole media circus again. You kind of wished they didn’t have to do that every time, just so you could cosy up with him for more than a handful of seconds before he’d be whisked away somewhere else. In your haste, you checked your phone to see Tom had texted both you and Charles to congratulate him on his podium.

Quick text to say congrats! You should have won today, but silverware is still silverware, right? Sending this to your girl as well, I know you won’t have your phone on you

You smiled at the text, sporting a video of Tom, his brothers and Tuwaine, cheering for Charles from the top of the paddock club, where people looked at them like they were proper nutcases. Tom had said “your girl” and you had enjoyed the sound of that. It was the third time already that you realised that being linked to Charles didn’t feel like such a bad thing. You had been really cautious with Tom, because he was your best friend and you didn’t want to cause any type of prejudice or to create drama when there wasn’t drama to begin with, but with Charles, you truly didn’t care. Let there be drama. Let there be chatter. That wouldn’t change the fact that you liked the guy and that the feeling was mutual.

Standing proud but slightly defeated on the second step of the podium, Charles scanned the crowd, hoping to discern the right Ferrari polo that belonged to your shoulders. You thought he would never be able to, surely, when the crowd was that compact and when more than half of the garage was standing there, but the smile he sent your way felt personal and you took it for granted, arrogance be damned. Your dad was clapping and yelling on your side when the presenter introduced Charles Leclerc, second on the podium, like the frustration of seeing him being somewhat robbed of a victory had been wiped for pure joy. You jumped up and down when he raised the trophy in the air and you watched him pour sparkling wine all over himself and the rest of the podium. There wasn’t much you could have done more, but Andrea seemed to be happy about your joy and before you could properly bask in the vibes of it, he was dragging you and your dad away so you could sneak into the right hallway.

Charles was barely out of the door that you were running to him, hanging yourself at his neck and hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“Have a nice evening, bro,” a voice resonated behind you and you didn’t even comprehend that it was Lewis Hamilton, too busy finding your man back and smelling the melted rubber clinging on his skin. “Did you have a nice day?” Charles whispered. “It was amazing,” you whispered back. “Thanks for everything. Dad was over the moon.” “I’m happy then. Let me go check with him what he wants to do for a second?”

You begrudgingly let him go, watching your dad take him in his arms and slapping him on the back, in a proper men’s hug. You smiled at the vision of them two, walking away with arms on the shoulders or just above the waist, Charles having let the trophy in the trusted hands of your father for just a bit.

“I wish you could have won. You deserved it,” your dad muttered. “I’ll win somewhere else,” Charles shrugged. “Yeah, but I may not be there to cheer for that one.” “I’ll make sure to have someone facetime you, then,” he smiled. “Thank you for having been here today and for pushing behind me. It was nice to meet you that way.”

Your dad nodded and before you could catch up with them, they were out of earshot. You could only see their heads bobbing up and down, the smiles on their mouths and the chuckles rumbling in their chests. Your dad kept patting Charles on the chest, until they turned serious enough that Charles nodded solemnly, before he got engulfed in your father’s embrace once again.

“What did my dad tell you, when we left that building after podium?” You asked, when your head was resting on Charles’ chest in the hotel room bed, after Charles had closed the door of the taxi on him and waved him goodbye. “We talked about you,” he confirmed. “Don’t worry. He didn’t tell me any secret.” “Did he try to scare you off?” “No. But that’s between me and him,” he kissed your forehead. “Okay,” you breathed out.

After your father had gone, you stayed in the Ferrari hospitality, enjoying a cup of tea and helping yourself to not one but three scones, reading stuff on your phone and scrolling down Instagram. You texted a bit with Tom, apologising for not having been able to catch up with them all during the day, to which he replied he understood and asked how the meeting between Charles and your dad went. Charles came out of the briefing room at almost 7pm, with a tired air on his face and yawning like a toddler. You smiled at his ruffled hair and grabbed your bag before joining him and Andrea to jump into a car appointed by Ferrari to drive back to the hotel. You hadn’t really thought about grabbing his hand on the walk over and he had happily swung your intertwined hands between the two of you, throwing back the image of two children in love in the school’s playground. You didn’t care if anybody was seeing you. You didn’t care if the chatter was going to go around the paddock, if tea would be “spilled”. All you cared about was the little rough patch between his thumb and his index finger and how it was scratching the skin between your own thumb and index finger.

“Was it okay that I took your hand when we left?” You timidly asked. “It was perfect,” Charles sighed, sleepily.

You closed your eyes, letting your eyelashes rest on Charles’ jaw.

“Goodnight, girlfriend,” Charles murmured. “Goodnight, boyfriend.”

You didn’t need to talk about it. You didn’t need to question it. The decision had been made a few days ago, you realised, and you had both made it without telling the other. You met each other midway, and it was perfect as it was.

Your boyfriend was now happily sleeping at your side, blissful and a heart full of fondness for you, only matched by the one you held in your heart for him.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

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