#also I’m almost done with a new chapter of one of my own fics so that’ll be a nightmare to post…

[chemicalmagecraft]

Not to be violent or anything but I hope that whoever is responsible for the DDoS attack against AO3 gets struck by lightning, simultaneously critically damaging their nearby hacking equipment and burning out a very specific part of their brain causing them to develop a form of visual agnosia that makes them incapable of distinguishing computer equipment from wild bears.

[woaza]

Could you do a Dino Classico x reader, human noble. They went to the study during a party to take a break and secretly to read a book they brought. Theodore snuck out because he wanted to be grown up and saw them in the room. They talk about the book and lent it to Theodore. Dino sees the book with the readers name in the cover after the twin girls tease Theo about his new crush much later in the week.

Dino Classico X (Fem)Human!reader

Contains : Long fic.

Word count : 2.7k words

Warnings : Dino being mean to his son, Dino Being a waving red flag and use of Y/N and L/N.

A/N : Hey I got a tone of requests which I’m super grateful for! I’m working on all of them and super appreciate your patience and i promise to get them done even if it takes a while! Plus some of them are a bit confusing so once I decipher them I’ll be getting to work lol. Also We got to get Theodore to a psychiatrist ASAP. Your toys talking to you is not normal. 🌜

It was the annual Classico Ball event, held at the Classico Estate. The ball room was magnificent with a large porch wrapping around the party room. Large stained glass windows and even bigger glass doors. The garden was well kept but vines grew up the glass and white pillars due to the grand age of the manor. Yet the natural but well kept garden was just charming and magnificent. Which was simply another way the Classico’s parade their power in such a subtle way. It was a humid summer evening, despite the sun setting it was hot. The ladies and lords doing their best to stay inside as to not sweat in their nice evening wear. Of course the head of the Classico house thought of this and kept drinks on display all night, free for the guests of the Ball. Especially as everyone danced it was gravely important for anyone to stay hydrated. It would be frowned upon if the host left his poor guests grow parched.

Yet as each lord and lady danced to the melody of the posh orchestra, all the human bodies in the room heated up the large space. Most people in attendance were simply enjoying the evening far too much to notice or if they did notice the growing heat they shrugged it off.

Thus far you had been brave in the battle against the heat. You grew hot as you stood with your house, doing your best to present your face and your family. The expensive party wear fitted to your body perfectly was doing little to cool you down. Your conversation was growing weak and you knew you needed to excuse yourself. Lucky for yourself you had predicted such an event and brought a book to accompany you on your escape. At least once you made your escape.

You looked to your family who seemed unbothered and in a pleasant conversation with some fellow Nobels. This was a perfect chance for you to politely slip way which you did with ease, your family almost never seemed to notice until much later whenever you did your own personal ‘journeys’. You couldn’t help but smile as you politely excused yourself to the outside patio, thinking of the last chapter in your book. It was finally time for the conclusion of what you would consider one of the best books you’ve ever read. It was a thrilling feeling as you sat on one of the benches illuminated by the lights from within the ballroom. Your fingers moving between the pages as you flip to the last chapter.

Word by word you digested the written art piece. You had read the last word when you felt someone’s eyes fall unpon you. You looked up from your book, not noticing anyone. You quickly turn your head around looking left and right until your eyes fall onto a little boy. He stood a couple feet away, standing by one of the shrubs in a glass pot.

You fixed your posture a bit and smiled at the young boy. “Hello.” Your tone was sweet and somewhat quiet as he shuffled away from his somewhat concealed hiding spot. He nodded respectfully and walked up to your. “My apologies my lady. I am Theodore Classico, Heir to the Classico family.”

He had definitely practiced his introduction, which was a bit surprising to hear such a formal introduction from a little boy. Your composed yourself quickly and looked over to him. “I am lady L/N, a pleasure to meet you.” He nodded before he glanced past you looking at the party that was happening within the ball room.

“Are you not enjoying your self?” He said his tone concerned, he knew the Classico annual party was an important part of his family’s reputation and wanted to uphold that quality. “No, no, I am.” You smiled a bit, what a strange thing for a child to be concerned with? “As a matter of fact, excuse my behavior but you don’t seem to be dressed for an event like this?” You said with your tone coming more as a question rather than a statement.

He frowned at the comment but sighed. “I am not allowed till I reach a certain age, my father forbids it.” As he returned an answer to your question you smiled wider. So that meant he snuck out to see the party. He noticed your smirk. “You won’t report this to my father will you?” Which you couldn’t help but snicker, and shake your head “Worry not young Theodore, I will not tell such things to Master Classico.”

He was grateful before he quickly glanced to the book you had on your lap. You followed his eyes with your own. “The fall of Arkmunster written by William Le Franc, are you familiar?” Theodore paused for a moment before shaking his head no. “I am unfamiliar with the title but have read pieces by the author.” Leaning closer to you to look at the cover. You held the book out to him prompting him to take it. Which he does after some hesitation.

“I’m surprised you have heard of William Le Franc but not the tittle it’s a classic in Philosophy. It’s wonderfully written and it is a challenging read.” You had throughly enjoyed this read and more than happy to discuss the book. Which he seemed to return the sentiment. “I’ll just have to take your word for it, I’m sure we don’t have it in the manors collection I’ve read all the William Le Franc books it has to offer. I’ll have to purchase a copy.” You nodded your head in agreement, before you thought for a brief moment. “Actually I’ve just finished, would you like to barrow the book?”

Theodore didn’t really have any adults who were kind to him, at least in that sense. His father would never have trusted him with a book no matter how hard he tried to prove himself responsible. He smiled a bit and pulled the book closer to himself. “If it wouldn’t be a burden I would be extremely grateful ma’am”

You smiled and watched the boy clutch onto the book. “Of course no matter at all, I’ll have to write in you in a month’s time or so once you’ve finished and we will talk of the contents. If you’d enjoy that of course?” In your head you felt silly, what child wanted to read a book written by William Le Franc? It had rather big ideas in the book. This particular book discusses death. How the human mind grapples it. Something a child surely wouldn’t understand. Yet he had read other pieces, what mature child indeed.

Time passed by and you and Theodore discussed some of the other works of William Le Franc. He was a bright boy and it was possibly the best conversation you had all night! Yet as the night grew later you and the young boy said your goodbyes. With the hopes to write to each other. Theodore the young boy was ecstatic! He had a companion who had looked pasted his age and gave him a respectful conversation. Let alone some proper attention! He was eager to read the book and started almost immediately after the conversation you two held.

Weeks later it was the usual routine, him and his father left so he could be under his supervision. ‘The nursery’ as it was named. Theodore tired to enjoy it but under his father’s supervision he couldn’t. Far too embarrassed to play with the other children, let alone with his father present. So as he usually did sat on the couch and read his books. Today only bringing one book; The fall of Arkmunster written by William Le Franc. It was hard to understand, most certainly the hardest book he’s ever read. The meanings and word play was intense but deeply meaningful. A hard but awarding book. He was stuck on a paragraph that didn’t make any sense when the twins walked up to him. Lucia and Elena walked up tried to get his attention. Elena snapped her fingers but they were always so loud and chaotic. Theodore paid them no mind.

Lucia rolled her eyes and quickly swiped the book out of his hands as Elena laughed. Snapping Theodore out of his focus. “Excuse me? Lucia return that to me!” Theodore said with a scowl, Lucia started to flip through the pages while Elena blocked his way. “What’s so fun about a book anyway? play with us!” Elena stated holding out her arms. Frustrating Theodore to no end.

After a moment Lucia reached the cover page and widened her eyes a bit. “Theodore who is lady Y/N L/N?” Which caught all three of the young children’s attention. Elena quickly came to an unreasonable conclusion that this must be Theodore’s love rather quickly. “Is that your betrothed Theodore!?” She said rather loudly causing everyone in the small room to look at the small commotion. Dino Classico stood up almost immediately and marched over to the commotion. Lucia held the book wide open with your signature on the cover while laughing loudly. Theodore was immediately red in the face. “Elena do not say such things!” He pleaded as he felt pure dread as his father walked to them. Lord Classico quickly grabbed the book and held to examine the pages. “Theodore. Let’s discuss in the hallway. Now.” Classico didn’t wait for a response nor for Theodore and went out into the hallway. Theodore glanced angrily at the girls before following Behind his father Into the hallway.

“Father I can explain.” Yet as his father always seems to do, quickly interrupted. “Theodore I do not know how you received this book but I am not amused by the disturbance it caused. I am annoyed and disappointed. Do not let such things happen again! Understand?” Theodore simply nodded and looked towards the floor. “You children are far to young to discus such things.” Classico said with a grumble before opening the book and examining the name. “Lady Y/N L/N? How did you get this?” A small pause before he looked and Theodore angrily. “Did you steal this? You soil the Classico name!? You owe lady L/N and immediate apology!” Dino seemed to be getting more angry by the second. Theodore tried to compose himself the best he could “father I did not steal the book it was lent to me.” Theodore could barely look his father in the eyes, stumbling his words dispute his best attempts.

Dino scoffed as he held the book, starting at your signature. How did his son ever come into contact with you? Especially after his many attempts to, he had specifically invited your family to all the Classico events and gatherings. Yet you seemed so allusive, he’d see you walk in but he’d never catch a conversation or a dance with you. Much to his annoyance but of course no one else knew of his intentions to speak with you. “Theodore don’t bother me with such nonsense ever again. Understand boy?” Theodore nodded moving his eyes to look at the book his father held far above his head “Yes father.” Was all he could say, and the only answer Dino would accept. “Now we will go back to the room and you will not Cause any more bother.”

Theodore spent the rest of the day sitting in the Conner, that had been the only book he had brought with him. He couldn’t help but stare at the book as it sat on the table next to where his father was. Just out of his grasp. Yes, potentially he could read one of the books that nursery had to offer but that was of no interest to him.

A couple more days passed and Dino found himself with a small break. The investigation meeting had ended a bit earlier than usual and he was left to his alone in his manner. Which was rare, he almost had time off. Your book still was on his desk, he couldn’t help but open the book and let his eyes linger on your signature. He could mail the book back to you with a letter of apology. Yet the Classicos and your house were plenty friendly with each other. What could be wrong with an impromptu visit? Your father being one of the few humans he did business with.

A little later he finally arrived at your family’s estate. The Servents are quick to greet him and lead him to the front parlor to wait. Your father and Classico spoke for a moment before you were called down. A maid knocked on the doors to your private chambers.

“Lady L/N, your presence in the front parlor is requested by your farther immediately.” The fimillar voice at the door snapped you out of the new set novel you were indulging in. You quickly opened the door. “My father? Why, what business could he have to request me?” You weren’t trying to be snarky but more so curious. “The head of Classico is present, other than that I am no more informed than you are my lady.” The maid said as she walked a couple steps behind you. Classico? Your first thought was of Theodore, maybe he had come to discuss the book. But some things didn’t make sense. It had only been a little more than a week, surely not enough time to read a book of the difficulty and size.

You made your way to the front parlor, your father and Dino Classico sat across from each other drinking tea. You walked in confusion to see Dino Classico holding the book you had lent his son.

“Father, Lord Classico.” You did a small curtsy and looked at them both. Formally announcing yourself. “My daughter, Lord Classico came to return your book. You should thank the man.” You nodded with a confused smile as you walked over to Dino Classico as he held the book out for you. “Thank you my lord, but if I may be so bold I lent this to the young Theodore. Has he already finished the novel?” Your father raised a brow and looked at Dino. Making sure you didn’t offend the man.

“I had assumed he had stolen it?” Which made your eyes widen. “Oh my goodness no! He was such a well mannered boy I happily lent it to him.”

“Really now? When did you and my son get the chance to talk?” He said leaning a bit forward in his seat, that he was much too tall for. You immediately thought of how Theodore wasn’t supposed to have snuck out. In an attempt to not throw Theodore into anymore trouble you quickly thought of a reasonable explanation. “At the annual ball I excused myself for the ladies room and had the good fortune to have had bumped into the young boy who recognized the author.” That seemed reasonable enough and Dino seemed to seem fine with that answer while your father sat in silence.

The room grew quiet for a brief moment before Dino set up in his seat. “I see that this has been a misunderstanding now. Unfortunately I have some more duties to attend to. Lord and lady L/N I appreciate your patience with my unannounced visit.” He stood up walking over to you, gently placing a kiss on the back of your hand. His butler quickly got the message and fetched his hat. Within a moment Dino bided you and father a goodbye.

Once Dino had left he immediately wanted to talk to you more. For once he was grateful for one of what he would consider Theodore’s ‘childish outbursts’. Within in own thoughts he planed to speak with Theodore about you. Maybe he would but Theodore a copy of the book. You were such a strange woman, he couldn’t help but be intrigued. He’d have to pursue another conversation with you.

Dino would never tell any one of how he was attracted to you. From your mannerisms to your polite nature. Yet you were so educated. He could simply tell by the way you carried yourself. No longer would be subtly hope to run into at an event, or visit your family. He needed a more direct way to speak to you, and with Theodore maybe he had one.

Another A/N: I kinda escaped the prompt and for that I am sorry. Also I assumed the read was Fem but if they weren’t supposed to be lmk!

[plor-bindery]

Bound: Truth to Materials

It’s done!

I have a colour printer now. Can you tell? Lol.

This is, of course, a bind of my own co-authored fic with lately, who is not on Tumblr much/at all, and not under that name. (Apparently I continue to have the idea that I must try out new techniques on my own work first?)

The fic features artist Draco, so I went with that theme for the book design. I also used Canva for the first time, which was a mix of frustration (“whyyyy doesn’t it do this thing Illustrator does???”) and joy (so! much! stock! art!!!) I actually wound up banging the cover doc back into Illustrator because I didn’t trust the lack of guides and dimensions for measuring the cover, but the export was fairly seamless, so that was fine.

Back cover blurbs feat. @moonflower-rose because their comment made me lol so much when I went digging for gold in the comments. Also @thehoneybeet! (I feel weird putting my own reviews on the cover but I’m pretending they’re all directed at lately.)

More blathering under the cut.

For the wrap cover: glossy legal photo paper laminated in a matte legal 3mil pouch — two covers back to back so only the front gets laminated. I actually tried this first on plain paper but the ink bled in spots from the glue moisture and the whole thing delaminated as the glue struck through. I think the glossy coating provides a better barrier between ink and glue. I also used straight PVA on the second go, reasoning that it carries less water. Seemed to work?

Ran into some troubles with hinges delaminating, though, I think more from flexing and the bone folder than moisture? I can see why the IG Dramione binding girlies use the soft touch laminate — less than half the thickness. I haven’t bought any yet though, not sure I am that keen?

The endpapers are foiled but I was annoyed with the folding obscuring the words — might have to be more cautious with that in future.

All the chapter headers are artworks pulled from the bestmuseumbum hashtag on the bird site. It was very fun finding them. (This fic started with a Louvre visit in which lately and I very maturely admired many sculpted arses so there’s a theme.)

Endbands are sewn with embroidery floss and they came out sooo shiny and neat. One strand of floss per wrap is the way to go, even though it’s slow and fine work.

The rest of the bind is unremarkable — legal quarto, sewn French links, bradel-style case.

The cover came out quite 90s which I kind of love. As I’ve said before, and at risk of dating both of us, co-author lately and I met in our young teens, and that was…in the 90s. The earlier part. So a 90s vibe cover for the first fic we managed to co-write since that time? Perfect. Saved by the Bell goodness.

So… cover wraps… I am not sure! I think it’s probably cheaper than even homemade book cloth, but I imagine the archival quality is not great with all the plastic involved. But then same with HTV. I will almost certainly do it again, especially if I want to do something like a book that’s disguised as a textbook or magazine. While I love the artwork available in Canva, I definitely felt like my own creativity was less present? Hard to describe.

One little technical problem that I’m solving: endpapers didn’t stick to the hinge insides fully, not sure if the wrapped spine is too wide or it’s a lamination not liking glue thing or… but the problem is minor. Something to troubleshoot next time.

[jessicaloons]

E P I L O G U E - Invisible String

Masterlist - Previous

Hello lovely people, here it is, the Epilogue. Instead of a classic epilogue you’ll get to join Lizzie and Charles in their life together through the years.

I hope you enjoy reading this final part of Invisible String as much as I enjoyed writing it. The whole journey of Lizzie and Charles meant so much to me, finishing it is heartbreaking but relieving at the same time. I know I sent you in for a looong ride with lots of ups and downs with this one and I thank every single one of you who stayed from the very beginning to end now. But also everyone who joined in along the ride, thank you! And to the people who just recently started reading, thank you for taking time out of your day to start reading over 50 chapters of a fic, that started over a year ago! I loved every single interaction with you guys, the comments, reblogs, chats and anons, thank you so much for showing me/my story so much love!

There are a lot of people to thank, starting with my bestie who first was mildly confused by the fact that I was writing fan fiction, but then become obsessed and hated me when I hurt her precious baby boos (her words!) and literally gobsmacked me once or twice, when my "torturing went too far".

My lovely boyfriend fiancé who I met while being in the middle of writing this amazing story, who supported me and even read my story because he was curious, starting to get super invested in it.

And last, but definitely not least, a H U G E thank you to the person, without who this story wouldn’t even exist. Thank you, thank you, thank you @elisysd for not only writing my favourite fanfics, but also for motivating me to write and release my own! Thank you for being my torture partner in crime, thank you for always helping me out with title names, thank you for reading my new ideas, motivating me to continue and develop them into new stories. Thank you for all the conversations about our stories, new ideas, talks about the races, our shared views on certain people, and the talks about what is going on in the crazy whirlwind that is our life’s! I’m so very grateful that I found Cruel Summer (if you haven’t read it till now, DO IT! My favourite fic out there!) last year and that you started a chat with me, because life hasn’t been the same since then. So one final thank you, for literally EVERYTHING ♥️

And now I wrote enough! Some little blurbs, social media posts and a lot of time jumps are ahead, buckle in and let’s f****** goooo!

10th May 2026:

"Shhh Emmie, we don’t want to wake up mummy now, do we?" I whispered, tickling her tummy "I’m almost done, little princess."

I placed everything on the tray, and tried to lift it with one hand, before I picked up Emmie, making my way to our bedroom. Lizzie was still fast asleep, Arlo at the foot of our bed sitting up, looking at Emmie and me.

"Be a good boy." I looked at him and he laid back down, making no sound "Alright…" I sat down the tray on my side of the bed before I pushed the button to open up the shades, letting in the sun, a little groan letting me know that Lizzie wasn’t liking the light intrusion. Pulling the blanket over her head was the second indicator.

"Way too early…" she mumbled and I had to chuckle, Emmie clapping happily.

"It’s not that early…" I climbed into bed, Emmie in my lap, pulling the tray over.

"Everything before 9 is too early." Lizzie yawned, slowly scrambling up, her hair dishevelled. She took in Emmie and me, a big smile slowly spreading over her face "Good morning my beautiful baby girl." she cooed and our little one wriggled out of my lap, crawling over to her mum, cuddling into her side "Hi Emmie." Lizzie picked her up, cradling her to her chest, kissing her cheek, making our little girl giggle.

"Happy Mother’s day, cara mia." I smiled at them, pulling the tray close and turned a little to grab the bouquet of flowers from my night stand.

Lizzie made big eyes, looking from the breakfast on the tray, to the flowers in my hand to Emmie in her arms.

"Oh Charles… this is… this is wonderful." she whispered, leaning over, brushing her soft lips against mine "I honestly forgot about it… Oh god our mums!" she panicked a little and I cupped her cheek.

"They both get a beautiful bouquet and a bottle of the nicest champagne delivered today. Don’t worry. I talked to them, because I wanted to spend today with you and Emmie… it’s your first Mother’s day after all. Today is special." I smiled at her and she looked at me, glassy eyes and pink cheeks.

"You’re amazing…" she whispered and leaned in, kissing my cheek.

"It wasn’t just me, Emmie helped as well…" I said and Lizzie giggled, looking at our little girl, sitting in her lap and looking up at her with big eyes, smile on her face, eating everything up her mum said.

"You’re amazing too, Emmie." she kissed her chubby cheek.

"Ready to eat something?" I asked and she nodded.

"I’m actually starving."

"Perfect, because I made a lot…" I pulled the tray closer and Lizzie’s eyes widened.

"Watching Jamie Oliver and Gordon Ramsay made a real chef out of you…" she chuckled, grabbing a strawberry "Daddy is spoiling us, baby girl."

"Just wait for dinner and dessert." I wiggled my eyebrows, wiping some strawberry juice from Emmie’s chin.

"Ouhhh, I can’t wait!" Lizzie mumbled, looking through the options of food, while I fed Emmie another Strawberry.

"I was thinking we could do a little boat tour today, but because of the race next week it’s so full everywhere, I don’t want to navigate through it with you two…" I said, playing with Emmie while Lizzie munched on her cheese omelette.

"It’s Emmie’s first home race." Lizzie looked up from her plate, gently pinching Emmie’s cheek "You’ll see daddy race here in Monaco, baby girl. Daddy and his Ferrari."

"Rar-… rari…" Emmie babbled and I dropped the melon slice in my hand, Lizzie almost choking on her orange juice.

"Did she just?" I looked at Lizzie, her big blue orbs staring at our daughter "Princess did you just try to say Ferrari?" I picked her up, looking into her gorgeous face.

"Rari…" Emmie repeated, clapping happily.

"Oh my god Charles! Her first word is Ferrari! Well… almost… but oh my god!” Lizzie cheered "Emmie, baby girl, say Ferrari. Fer-ra-ri…"

"I don’t think it’s that easy, cara mia, you can’t just say a word and sh-…" I began but had to swallow my own words.

"Fr- fri-" Emmie chortled.

"Almost baby girl. Fer-ra-ri…" Lizzie tried again.

"Fr-rari…"

"Yes! You did it!" I chimed, littering Emmie’s chubby cheeks with kisses "My little genius baby girl! Ferrari! Your first word is Ferrari! Can you say 'Forza Ferrari'?"

"Okay, now you’re just reaching." Lizzie chuckled, but I ignored her.

"Fr-rari…" Emmie giggled when I kissed her nose "Fr-rari…"

"You’re just jealous that her first word was Ferrari, not Audi!" I smirked and Lizzie rolled her eyes "My precious little princess! I can’t wait to tell everyone about it!"

I cradled her to my chest, kissing her hair and she giggled happily. Lizzie leaned over, tucking some loose strands of her out of Emmie’s face, smiling at her, kissing her cheek.

"You want to try to say 'Audi'? Au-di…" she whispered and I pulled Emmie away.

"What are you doing, cara mia?" I laughed and she sat up, shrugging her shoulders.

"It was worth a try…"

"Even if she would say Audi, which is a way easier name by the way, so… unfair… but okay, her first word would still be Ferrari!" I looked at her and she was pouting a little, my eyes fell on her plush lips, before I looked in her eyes again.

"What about… we finish breakfast, put Emmie down and then we’re having a thorough discussion about what our baby’s first word was?" her voice sultry, lashes fluttering.

"Mhhh that does sound pretty good to me…" I leaned over, capturing her lips in a steamy kiss, biting her bottom lip a little when I pulled away "But it won’t change the fact that our baby girls first word was Ferrari…"

"Fr-rari!" as if on cue Emmie chimed in and I laughed against Lizzie’s lips, a soft smile on them.

"Ferrari it is…" she sighed.

"Ferrari it is…" I laughed.

"Fr-rari!"

7th September 2026:

"Food?"

"Check."

"Drinks?"

"Check."

"Decoration?"

"Check."

"Birthday cake?"

Silence. So I repeated it again.

"Birthday cake?"

"Umm-…"

"Charles! That was the most important thing! You said you would pick it up! I can’t believe you!" I groaned, walking inside, stopping dead in my tracks, the birthday cake sitting on top of the table.

"Birthday cake? Check." Charles chuckled and I puffed out some air.

"So not funny…" I rolled my eyes.

"Sorry, I had to, because someone is panicking a little… it’s going to be just fine cara mia!" Charles pulled me into him, kissing my cheek "Emmie won’t even remember this day, okay? Relax a little, pretty girl."

"Who says that she won’t remember today?" I cocked an eyebrow and Charles sighed.

"Are you serious? No one remembers their first birthday…"

"It’s just… I want this to be perfect…" I said quietly and he rubbed his hands up and down my sides "She’s one Charles, can you believe it? One!"

"Yeah… the last year went by in a blur… one day she was still in your belly the next we’re already celebrating her first birthday…" he replied and I looked around.

"We should take a picture of her. Before everyone is here and she’s too excited to sit still for a moment… just her, a balloon or two, her cake?" I said and Charles nodded.

"I set up a back ground and you get our little princess ready?" he said and I nodded, walking off, but then I stopped, turning around "You forgot something?"

"Yup…" I cupped his cheeks and kissed him "Thank you, for always calming me down… I love you."

"I love you more…" he whispered against my lips and I smiled "Now, get our little princess…"

I walked downstairs, opening quietly the door to Emmie’s room, pushing the button for the shades to open. I smiled when I saw that she was already awake, sitting in her bed, gorgeous smile on her little face.

"Hi baby girl, look at your little smiley face…" I cooed, leaning down and picking her up.

"Mama…" she said, her voice sweet like honey.

"Ready for your party?" I asked, sitting her down and she clapped happily "Yeah? You know that everyone is coming to see you?"

"Evy-one?" she repeated slowly and I nodded, brushing her wild hair.

"Everyone, that means… pops and gammy, granny as well. Your aunties Sissy, Charlotte and Shima. And of course your uncles Lorenzo, Joris, Daniel, Arthur-…"

"Tur!" she said excitedly almost jumping off the changing table.

"Yeah, Uncle Arthur is coming. And of course Liam and Noah." I smiled at her, kissing her cheek "Alright let’s dress you up and then go and find daddy?"

"Dada!"

"Yes, dada."

After putting her hair in a tiny bun, or rather a little palm, on the top of her head, dressing her into a cute dress I picked Emmie up, walking upstairs, where Charles arranged in the corner a little photo background.

"Oh look at my gorgeous girl! Hi princess." he cooed at her and she leaned over to him and Charles grabbed her, holding her close to his chest "Is that okay?" he looked at me and I nodded.

"I’ll go and get the cake…"

I watched Charles putting Emmie down, playing a little with our girl, and had to smile. He was born to be a father, like I always said. I took some pictures of them before I walked over, setting the cake down in front of Emmie.

"You have to watch her closely… I don’t want a foot in the cake… or hands…"

"I’ll take care, don’t worry…" Charles smiled "Ready?" he looked at me and I nodded, then he let go of Emmie and I took some photos.

"Alright. I think I’ve got it…" I showed Charles the results and he beamed at me.

"Perfect. Now let’s get ready for the party. They should all be here in the next minutes…"

And he was right, not even 20 minutes later the living room was full with our family and we gathered around, singing Happy Birthday for the very first time for Emmie.

February 2027:

"Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc! Are you serious?!" I sighed and Charles looked sheepishly at me.

"It looked so cute and I thought she doesn’t have one yet…" he said and tried to soften me with his smile.

"Charles! Her room slowly turns into the Ark of Emmie! She has a whole petting zoo full of stuffed animals!" I said as Charles crouched down and handed our toddler the stuffed panda bear. Emmie took it in her arms and cuddled it tight.

"Look! She loves it! As long as she loves it! Cara mia, she’s my pretty princess! Spoiling her is basically my job!" he said and I rolled my eyes.

"I used to be your pretty princess…" I fake pouted and Charles grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into him.

"Oh mon amour, you’re my beautiful queen! And she is our pretty little princess!" he said and kissed me tenderly.

"Mhhh I like the sound of that… my king…" I whispered against his lips, then kissed him again and pushed myself off of him gently. I walked away but stopped in the door "No more toys, Charles! She’s not even 1.5 years old and has already more stuff than 3 toy stores combined!" with that I walked out of the room, but I stayed in the hallway.

"You heard what our queen said, little princess. No more toys for you officially… but rest assured, I’ll bring you more, but that’s our secret!" Charles whispered and Emmie laughed and clapped excitedly.

"CHARLES!" I shouted.

"Oh shit…" he exclaimed.

"Oh shit…" Emmie repeated and I stormed back into her play room "Oh shit, mama. Oh shit, dada!"

"I’m so, so sorry!" Charles said and I glared at him.

"Mami? Dada a stupi io?" Emmie smiled at me and Charles looked flabbergasted.

"Emmie!" I sighed and Charles started grinning.

"No curse words in front of the baby girl I thought, cara mia? What happened to that rule?" he cocked an eyebrow and grinned at me.

"Someone was cutting the line…" I whispered.

"Road rage… I get it." he laughed and then picked up Emmie and pulled me in his arms too "My queen and my princess… I don’t know what I did to deserve this kind of magnificent luck…" he whispered and kissed my temple first and then Emmies cheek, she smiled her almost toothless smile, dimples showing just like her dads.

Bahrain 2027:

"Season opener for the husband on Sunday, charity race for you today with said husband, Max Verstappen, Lewis Hamilton, Jamie Chadwick, Doriane Pin, Maya Weug, Abbi Pulling, Carrie Schreiner and Bianca Bustamate. Excited to be back in the car?" Natalie asked Lizzie who smiled her most beautiful smile.

"Very excited. It’s only 10 laps, so I should be good, but yeah I trained a little with Charles the last weeks and I really hope that I’ll make it." she chuckled.

"First time little Emmie see’s her mummy race, how excited is she?"

"She made huge eyes when she saw me in the race suit and at the seat fitting she pulled at Charles leg and pointed at me, asking why I’m in the car and not he." Lizzie recalled and I had to laugh, thinking about Emmie’s face yesterday.

"So she’s talking now?"

"We’re getting there… but yeah, everyday a little more… if she’s like her dad, she won’t stop talking in no time…"

"It’s good to have you back here, Lizzie. All the best for the little family and of course good luck in the race later! And if I might say that, kick some asses in good old Lizzie fashion." Natalie smiled.

"Thanks, I’ll try my best, I promise!" Lizzie hugged her and walked off, a big smile on her face.

"So I’m the one talking too much?" I cocked an eyebrow and she laughed, kissing my cheek.

"But I love it when you’re talking…"

"Yeah, yeah… let’s go. The race will start soon…" I said, taking her hand, intertwining our fingers.

"It will be fine, you don’t have to worry…" she said, squeezing my hand a little.

"I know… it’s just- it was a risk that you finished your season 2 years ago… and now getting back in the car…" I sighed and she stopped.

"Charles, it’s only 10 laps… I’ll be fine, don’t worry! We talked with the doctor, I’m prepared, we did a lot of workouts-…"

"Mhh… that we did. I liked that." I whispered and she blushed, pinching my side.

"Get your head out of the gutter! We’re racing in 30 minutes!" she rolled her eyes playfully and I laughed.

"Prepare to lose, cara mia."

"Nope. I’m going to kick your ass. All my girls will kick your ass…" she smiled and I pulled her close, kissing her.

"May the best driver win…"

"So Max should win?" she cocked an eyebrow and I pinched her waist.

"Hey!" I pouted and she laughed.

"Let’s go, world champ."

"Did you let her win, because she’s your wife? Be honest." Max wiggled his eyebrows and I laughed.

"Yeah sure and never hear the end of it at home? How she beat me? Definitely not! You couldn’t catch up to her as well!" I looked at him and he scratched his chin.

"Maybe it’s better for us that she’s not in F1 anymore…" he shrugged.

"Yeah, I’m kinda getting used to winning titles." I joked and Max pushed me playfully.

"Yeah, yeah, Ferrari boy. Hold your horses, I’m this close of snatching the title away from you."

"Sure thing, slow bull."

"Ouch, what kind of conversation do I interrupt here?" Lizzie walked up to us and I pulled her in, kissing her gently.

"We just established that we’re pretty damn happy that you’re not in F1 anymore… we like winning and against you… well never mind." Max said and Lizzie laughed.

"Oh you poor boys… maybe I should give Felix a call." I chuckled and Charles shook his head, laughing.

"Please don’t."

"We’ll see." she laughed, walking off when Susie waved her over.

"But in all honesty, this was fun, we should do this more often." Max said as we walked back to the garages and I nodded.

"Definitely. It’s fun and for a good cause, we really-…" I began when a tiny little whirlwind in red ran towards me.

"Papa! Papa!" Emmie’s bright voice made everyone looking for the source of the adorable sound "Uppy!" she stopped in front of me, making grabby hands and puppy eyes.

"Hey my baby girl, you shouldn’t be running around here all alone." I picked her up and she immediately grabbed my face between her chubby, little hands.

"Pop!" she screeched and turned my head to the side, Juergen wiping his eyebrow, sighing relieved.

"And you shouldn’t make Pop sweat like that!" I booped her nose and she started to giggle hysterically, turning her head a little, stopping abruptly when she spotted Max.

"Hi Emmie." he cooed at her and she scrunched up her nose adorably.

"Say hi to Max, princess." I smiled at her and she looked between me and Max for a while before she turned to him, stretching out her hand, poking his cheek.

"Maxie." she said and he nodded.

"You can call me Maxie, that’s alright." Max smiled.

"Maxie…" she repeated and then looked at me "Charlie…"

"Hey! I’m not Charlie! I’m dad-" I began but got interrupted by her giggles.

"Maxie 'nd Charlie." she smiled poking first my cheek, then Max’ "Maxie 'nd Charlie."

"No, Emmie. I’m Daddy, Dad, Pap, Papa, Paps. But not Charlie. Okay? I’m not Charlie." I tried again.

"Charlie… Maxie." she said, nodding.

"Are you really trying to argue with her? You know who her mother is." Max laughed.

"Yep. That I know." I looked at Emmie and kissed her cheek "Thankfully she’s just as adorable as her mum, that saves her."

"Look at you, turned into a big, old softie." Max laughed when Emmie looked at him, a curious look on her face.

"Softie Maxie?"

"No, your daddy, girlie. He’s the softie!"

"No. Maxie softie. Charlie? Down." Emmie turned and looked at me, when she spotted Lizzie a few steps away. I sat her down and looked at her.

"Straight to mum, princess, okay? No detours!"

"Staight to mama." she nodded and bolted off.

I watched her hug Lizzie’s leg who bent down, picking her up. Seeing Lizzie back in a race suit, our daughter on her hip, made me feel all sorts of things and when Max started to laugh next to me, clapping my back I couldn’t stop the grin forming on my lips.

"Oh you’re so down bad for these two…"

"Oh yes… yes I am."

I watched the replay of the final overtake on the screen, Max next to me chuckling.

"Not gonna lie, after that move, I’m not even mad that you won." he said and I wiped my face with a towel.

"I had to try it, could’ve gone wrong as well…" I shrugged a little.

"Not today, you had an extra lucky charm with you." he nodded towards the screen, showing Lizzie with Emmie, wearing her little Ferrari hoodie, in her arms, standing right under the podium.

"Yeah… how could I not win with her around." I smiled.

"Little unfair advantage…" Oscar joked.

"Make your own lucky charm then." Max laughed.

"Hell no. I’m not ready for that!"

"Believe me. You’ll never be, it just works out magically…" I smiled when he was called out on the podium, followed by Max.

I took one last deep breath and stepped out, the cheering of the crowd almost deafening. But when I stepped onto the highest podium, I looked down. Lizzie and Emmie. Both smiling. Both beautiful. Both cheering louder than anyone else.

"DADDY! DADDY!" I heard her sweet voice carrying all the way up to me, almost jumping out of Lizzie’s arms.

I waved at her, blew her a kiss and her smile got even bigger.

"MY DADDY IS WINNER!" she continued and I felt tears well up. Happy tears.

Win or not today. I already won in life. Big time.

May 2027:

Emmie sat up and looked towards the door, her face lighting up.

"Dada!" she looked at me with her big eyes, clapping excitedly as soon as she heard Charles voice.

"Yes, baby girl, dada is home!" I smiled and she giggled happily, scrambling up on her feet, takings some cautious steps towards the door.

"Dada, I comes!" she screeched and made her way to the door.

I laughed and followed her into the hallway where I saw Arthur kneeling down opening his arms, Emmie slowly waddling towards him. The look on her face changed and she scrunched her nose adorably, realising that something wasn’t right. I heard her sigh and shaking her head slightly.

"You not dada." her voice full of disappointment.

"No, Emmie girlie, I’m not dada." Arthur chuckled "Can I still get a hug from my favourite niece?"

"Only niece." Charles said, appearing behind his brother and Emmie’s face lit up instantly.

"Dada!" she screeched happily, bolting towards her dad, ignoring Arthur’s open arms entirely.

"Ouch…" he mumbled and got up, watching how Charles picked up our little girl.

"Hey baby girl." he smiled at her but Emmie cupped his cheeks, studying his face intently, as to make sure that it was really her dada. Charles grinned, letting his baby girl turn his head to all sides.

"You dada!" she smiled after a while and Charles nodded, kissing her chubby cheeks. Emmie giggled and threw her little arms around his neck, cuddling him.

"Yes, I’m dada. I missed you so much, my little princess." Charles whispered, hugging her close, when Emmie pulled away, pointing at Arthur.

"You not dada!" she said accusatory and he sighed.

"No, Emmie, I’m not dada."

"You Arthie!" Emmie smiled a little and he nodded "My Arthie."

"Your Arthie."

"Dada… Arthie kissie." she looked at Charles with her big eyes and he laughed, walking towards his brother, so that Emmie could lean over, kissing Arthur’s cheek "Hi, my Arthie." she smiled and Arthur kissed her head in return.

"Only your Arthie." he smiled.

"But not dada." Emmie shrugged her shoulders, looking at Charles, smiling adorably.

"No. Not dada, I get it." Arthur shook his head and I laughed.

"Don’t be offended, as soon as Charles comes in, I’m forgotten as well. She’s such a daddy’s girl."

"Just like her mum, she’s crazy for me, what can I say?" Charles laughed, walking up to me, kissing me "Hi, cara mia. You look gorgeous today... you’re glowing!"

"Mama pwetty." Emmie chirped and Charles nodded.

"Mama super pretty, just like my little Emmie." he cooed at her, making her chubby cheeks turn pink "And now you’re blushing just like your mama." she giggled and hid her face in his neck and he sighed contently "You have no idea how happy I am to be back home."

I woke up from Emmie’s faint crying, hastily scrambling up, just to see that Charles was already leaving the room. I sat up, switching the light on, listening into the now quiet penthouse. A couple of moments later, the soft thuds of Emmie’s steps towards our bedroom made me smile. She poked her head around the corner, looking into the room, sighing happily when she saw me and then bolted straight for the bed. I pulled her up, sitting her in my lap and tugged some wild strands of hair out of her face, behind her ears.

"What is it princess? Did you have a bad dream?" I cooed and she nodded.

"Bad fishies…" she mumbled and I kissed her forehead "They meanies."

"What did the bad fishies do?"

"Didn’t lets me play."

"No! How rude!" I gasped and she nodded.

"Emmie?" Charles looked through the door and then smiled "Hey, I was looking for you. I’ve got your princess cup…" he walked over, handing her her little cup and she grabbed it happily, drinking some water "Come on. I’ll get you back to bed and then I’ll tell you what to do next time those fishies are mean!" he held out his hand but Emmie cuddled up into my chest.

"Nu-uh…" she shook her head a little, handing me her cup and I put it down on the night stand.

"Nu-uh?" Charles repeated and she pulled away, sliding down my lap, onto the bed.

"I sleeps here." Emmie patted the mattress next to her, already making herself comfortable.

"Yeah?" Charles asked and she nodded, pulling the blanket up.

"Lightses off." she said and I had to chuckle "Pwease?"

"Can I get in bed before mum switches off the light? I don’t want to stub my toe…" Charles walked around the bed, laying down "Alright." he pulled up the blanket and snuggled into the sheets before he pulled Emmie over, cradling her against him, making her giggle.

"Lightses off now?" her voice muffled.

"Lightses off now." Charles confirmed and I switched off the light, scooting a little closer.

"Good night, my cute little Emmie." I whispered against her head, kissing her.

"Nighty mama." she yawned and Charles kissed her forehead "Nighty dada."

"Good night, my princess." he whispered and then looked up, smiling at me "Good night, my queen."

July 2027:

Pregnant. The second test showing the same result. The mood swings, stomach bugs, my overly emotional state at times, it all made sense now.

"Whats dis?" Emmie asked, looking at the test in my hand "Is it toy?"

"No girlie, no toy…" I breathed out and she scowled a little.

"Why no toy?"

"Because not everything is a new toy for you."

"Dada always buys toys…"

"Yeah, because dada can’t resist your puppy eyes!" I chuckled, looking down at her.

"New puppy for Emmie?"

"No. Not a new puppy for you. It’s- umm well it’s… it’s something for mum and dad." I smiled at her "But you know what? It’s not a toy, but you’ll be able to play with it still in some time…"

She happily clapped her hands, beaming up at me.

"Tank you Mama for new toy."

"Not a toy, Emmie." I leaned down, cupping her cheek "A little brother or sister…"

"You’re pregnant?"

I flinched and looked up at Charles standing in the bathroom door frame, wide eyed, looking at me.

"Umm…" I grabbed the pregnancy tests and handed him the two sticks "Yeah…"

"We’re having another baby?" Charles breathed out, his eyes wandering between the tests in his hand, me and then Emmie on the floor.

"Looks like it…" I said quietly "Is that okay? I mean-… we talked about it… but never about the when…"

"It’s perfect, cara mia…" he stepped closer, cupping my cheeks "We’re having another little one…" he kissed me and Emmie got up, pinching his leg.

"Want kissie too." she pouted and Charles picked her up, tickling her belly.

"You’re going to be a big sister, princess. Are you excited? You’re getting a little brother or sister!" he cooed at her kissing her chubby cheeks.

"Big sis-sissie?" she tilted her head a little.

"Big sister, munchkin." I said slowly.

"Big sista…" she repeated and I smiled.

"That’s it. Well done pretty girl." Charles kissed her cheek again "You’re going to be an amazing big sister, I just know it!"

"The bestest!" she chirped.

"The best, girlie. It’s just the best."

"Na-uh… bestest." she shook her head and cuddled into Charles chest "Bestest, bestest, bestest."

"Okay… bestest is it- for now." he said and Emmie giggled, kissing his cheek, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Emmies always right." she said and I laughed.

"She’s 100 per cent your daughter!" Charles and I said in unison and then laughed even more.

"Daddy, down pwease." Emmie said and Charles sat her down "Arlooo… me’s a be big sista…" she shouted, running away.

"Ready for another one?" I asked and Charles grabbed me by the waist, pulling me close.

"Another little trouble maker? I can’t wait… I think we can handle two…" he kissed me and then leaned his forehead against mine "I love you, cara mia. You, Emmie and the little one in your belly… I can’t wait for another baby…"

"Then I call the doctor for an appointment…" I whispered and he nodded.

"I want to be here for the first ultrasound…" Charles whispered back and I smiled.

"I’ll make sure of it… even if it might take a little longer then." I pecked his lips and he smiled.

"And there… oh there they are!" the nurse said and my eyes widened.

"They?" I asked and Charles looked confused.

"Yes, here we have baby number one and here is baby number two. Congratulations, you’re having twins!" the nurse smiled.

"Twins?" Charles repeated.

"Yes, Mr. Leclerc, you and your wife are having twins!" she nodded.

"How?" he asked and the nurse laughed.

"Happened the same way like it did with your daughter…" she chuckled and got up "I’ll leave you alone. If you’re dressed come up to the front desk."

"Charles, hey? Pretty boy, are you alright?" I asked as Charles sat next to me, visibly panicking.

"Twins, cara mia! Twins! I barely kept Emmie alive! How am I supposed to take care of two babies at the same time?" he said with a worry laced voice.

"Did I miss something?" I chuckled and Charles looks at me confused "Am I leaving and you’re alone with them? Besides, 'barely kept Emmie alive'? Charles you were born to be a dad! You were so very good at it, you know how jealous I was at times!"

"Yeah for absolute no reason…" he rolled his eyes a little and I sighed.

"We both did good, okay? Emmie turned out just great and with these two it will be just the same…" I cupped his cheek, rubbing circles on it "It’s going to be fine… okay?"

"Twins, cara mia… can you believe it?" he whispered and I sighed a little.

"I’m going to get so huge… blue whale like…" I mumbled.

"Beautiful. You’re going to be so freaking beautiful. Like you always are, just with a little more-…"

"… fat on the ribs and basically everywhere?" I groaned.

"Hey, stop that!" he pinched my waist "I wanted to say just with a little more of that gorgeous glow you had when you were pregnant with Lizzie… you’re going to be the most beautiful girl out there cara mia… you and Emmie of course." he kissed me and I had to smile.

"Three little rascals…"

"Three little rascals…"

May 2031:

"Why do you look so nervous?" Lizzie asked and I shook my head slightly "She’ll be fine…"

"How do you know?"

"Because she’s our daughter?" she chuckled and I rolled my eyes "She’ll be fine." she said again, cupping my cheek "You taught her everything she needs to know."

"I hope so…" I said underneath my breath and watched as the race director waved the flag, signalling for the race to start.

I closed my eyes and took one last deep breath before I watched the race unfold before our eyes. Emmie was fearless as well as ruthless, making up 5 positions in the first few corners.

"Fucking hell…" Arthur let out next to me, his eyes widening in horror when he heard the loud gasp from Elio on his shoulders.

"Arthi said bad word!" he chirped and I glared at Arthur.

"Yes Arthur, you said a very bad word!"

"Fucking hell!" Enzo said proudly, leaning his back against Lizzie, swinging his dangling legs back and forth.

"Enzo!" Lizzie warned him and he rolled his eyes groaning "Mister!"

"Fucking hell…" he repeated and Arthur mouthed an apology towards me.

"Enzo Doetterer-Leclerc. Stop it." I picked him up from the banister he was sitting on, making him look at me "No bad words. And no bad attitude."

"Yous boring." he mumbled, poking my cheek "Arthi funny."

"Nope, little man. I said a bad word. We don’t say bad words. Mum and Dad are right." Arthur tried it and Enzo sighed.

"Yous boring too."

"And you’re a little menace." I tickled his sites, making him giggle.

"Stop! Paps stop!" he laughed but I kept going "Not saying bad wordses again! Pomis!"

"You promise me?" I stopped, looking at him and he nodded.

"Pomis."

"Okay, now let’s watch your sister…"

"… winning her first race…" Lizzie finished and I followed her look, watching Emmie starting her last lap, a huge gap between her and the rest.

The moment Emmie crossed the finish line and stopped her kart, she jumped out, running towards us, happily screaming.

"I won! I won! Did you see that? I wooon!" she pulled her helmet off, hairs standing up in all directions "I WON!"

"You did amazing, Ems!" Arthur pinched her cheek a little and she chuckled.

"Did you see that?" Emmie looked at me and I nodded, hugging her.

"You were amazing princess!"

"We’re so proud of you!" Lizzie bend down, kissing her cheek "So, so proud."

Emmie smiled and wiped her face with a towel Lizzie handed her and then grinned.

"I kicked the boys asses." she chuckled and Lizzie pressed her lips into a thin line, trying her best not to laugh "They didn’t even had a chance."

"You’re a menace too." I said and Arthur laughed.

"Look what you guys did. Created 3 little menaces to the society." he nudged my shoulder.

"That we did."

May 2033:

I watched the twins getting into their race gear. Both with a big smile on their faces, chatting overly excited with Arthur and Pops.

"Dad?" Emmie poked my side and I looked down at her "Mummy is looking for you. She’s talking to Maxie."

"Please tell me you said Maxie to him…" I chuckled and she grinned "Good girl. Go help your brothers we’ll be there any minute." I kissed her head and she sauntered off, pinching her brothers as soon as she was close enough.

I looked around, finding Lizzie and Max standing at the exit, talking away.

"Hi Maxie." I said, chuckling when he rolled his eyes.

"Your kids can call me that, you? Definitely not."

"Oh come on, Maxie. Don’t be a party pooper."

"Lizzie, tell your husband to stop." Max looked at her and she just held up her hands.

"I didn’t want to get dragged in between you almost 30 years ago, I don’t want to get dragged between you now. You two are big boys. Behave." she chided and I laughed.

"I’ll tell you something. I’m only allowed to call you Maxie if I win the title this year, equalling with your 5 titles."

"Deal." Max said with not hesitation and I cocked an eyebrow "Mate your car is… well it’s not shit like at some seasons in the past… god just think back at 2023-…"

"Or 2020!" Lizzie added.

"My point is. 8 races in and you won how many? One? Only Monaco… I mean…" he shrugged.

"Just out of spite I have to win now." I said and Lizzie laughed.

"Look what you made him do…"

"You should’ve just retired like me last season." Max said, scratching his chin but I shook my head.

"No, I could feel that I have one more title in me. And I’ll win it, to prove you wrong. And then I’ll call you Maxie all the damn time." I punched his arm and he laughed.

"Alright. If you say so… for now I want to see our boys race. Let’s go." he said and I nodded, taking Lizzie’s hand.

"Let’s just hope these boys are not like you two…" she chuckled and Max and I looked at her "What? You were track terrors… and whoever got caught in between you two? Yeah no…"

"You were worse than us!" I chuckled and Max nodded.

"Yeah… if all, we have to hope that they are not like you!" he said and Lizzie glared at us "Oh… there it is, the Lizzie-death-glare… I wish I could say I’m not scared but… that would be a lie."

"Yeah, now imagine being married to her!" I said and Lizzie pinched my side.

"If you boys are ready now? There are 3 boys about to race and I don’t want to miss that…" she stomped away and I sighed.

"You know that I’ll have to pay for that back at home…" I chuckled and Max laughed, following Lizzie.

I sat down next to Lizzie on the bleachers, Emmie, Arthur and Juergen in front of us. Max sat down next to us and we watched excitedly the race start. Enzo leading into turn 1.

"He’s really good." Max commented and I smiled proudly.

"That he is."

"Just like his dad…" Lizzie said, and I threw my arm around her shoulder pulling her close.

"And like his mum!" I kissed her cheek, watching Enzo increasing the gap "But damn he’s fast…"

"That’s because he’s fearless… look, he’s almost not braking at all in the corners…" Arthur said.

He was right. Enzo was fearless, going into corners almost at full speed, dive bombing later than anyone I’ve ever seen. He won the race by such a big margin that he already had parked his kart and got out when Max’ son, Eric, parked behind him, followed by Elio.

"What a race…" Max clapped his hands and got up, and we walked down to our sons "Arthur is right, you know? Enzo is fearless…"

"He is. Not sure I like that…" I replied and he chuckled a little.

"Yeah… I feel you…"

"But then again. If he continues like this? He could make it pretty far…" I said as we stepped on the track, Enzo, Eric and Eli joking around.

"Yeah, if he wants to." Max said, taking Eric’s helmet "Hey buddy, good race."

"Yeah, couldn’t catch Enzo though… he’s crazy…" Eric said and Enzo chuckled, handing me his helmet "You drive into the corners without braking!"

"That’s how you win!" Enzo shrugged his shoulders and I chuckled.

"Or end up in a wall." Elio said and his brother rolled his eyes.

"It won’t happen, your brother is not stupid." I said and Lizzie chuckled next to me.

"Yeah… he’s not his dad…" she said and Max and Arthur began to laugh.

"Very funny…" I rolled my eyes when the race director waved at us "Boys, you’re needed…"

I ruffled the boys hair and they ran off, stepping on the little makeshift podium. It was the seventh race of the season and already the sixth win for Enzo, who got better each week. He jumped excitedly up and down on the top step on the podium waving at us happily.

"Look at him… he reminds me so much of you…" Juergen said, standing next to me "Whenever you were on the podium you were super giddy and couldn’t contain your excitement."

"He loves it… racing, the speed, the adrenaline, winning… Elio on the other hand…" I began and he nodded.

"He loves it too, but for him it’s more a hobby… while for Enzo… it’s everything."

He was right. Elio had fun. He enjoyed karting. But apart from the track, his mind wasn’t occupied with karting, not like his brothers, who couldn’t stop talking about karting, or racing in general. Enzo lifted his trophy over his head and cheered happily, waving at us and I smiled.

"Look dad! Another one!" he screeched, running over to us.

"Soon you’ll need a whole trophy cabinet!" I said and he nodded.

"Or I can put them next to yours and mum’s trophies in your trophy room?" he looked at me with big eyes, when Elio joined us, smiling shyly, presenting his smaller trophy.

"I tell you what, both of you, and Emmie, get a shelf in our trophy room…" I said and they both beamed up at me, running off again.

"You have a trophy room? Like… seriously?" Max asked and Lizzie cocked an eyebrow.

"Where? In our penthouse? You mean your office/ studio/ storage room? Where all of our trophies are kept in boxes?" she asked and I laughed.

"I mean… we could turn it into a trophy room." I shrugged my shoulders and she laughed.

"Sure. You do that…" she replied and I groaned "Your idea, you told your kids, so you do that…"

"Pops?" I looked at Juergen who just chuckled.

"Sure, I’ll help you… and maybe you can put your fifth world champion trophy in at the end of the year…"

"Let’s hope so…"

June 2038:

I watched as Emmie practically beamed at him, hanging at his lips, soaking in every word he said. I groaned a little and Lizzie looked up from adjusting Enzo’s helmet.

"What?" she asked and followed my look, then she chuckled.

"Do you see how she looks at him? She’s too young for these kinda looks!" I muttered.

"Charles, she has a crush on him! At her age I already had a huge crush on you too!" she laughed but I shook my head.

"That’s different… we knew each other for almost 5 years at her age! And I wasn’t so… so…" I rambled and Lizzie laughed even more.

"So what?" she asked and I sighed.

"So slimy! God, look how he laughs!" I groaned.

"Enzo, you’re all good, why don’t you go to Arthur, he’ll help you with your kart…" Lizzie send Enzo away "Love? She’s 13. She has a crush on Nick. That’s it. They won’t get married tomorrow. So relax, please."

"He won’t marry her in 10 years either! Never. I don’t like that boy!" I huffed out and Lizzie rolled her eyes. Both watching as Emmie put her helmet on, walking towards Enzo and Arthur. "Alright. I’ll be right back."

"Charles! Be nice!" Lizzie whisper shouts at me as I made my way over to Nick, but I just waved her off. The boy was about to grab his helmet as I grabbed it first, handing it to him.

"Here you go…" I said and Nick made big eyes.

"Th-thank you Mr. Leclerc…" he stuttered and I smiled at him. As he put his helmet on and sat down in his kart I crouched down next to him.

"That’s a nice kart you’re having. Looks fast." I said with an overly friendly voice.

"My dad and uncle worked on it together." he said nervously and I nodded.

"I saw you talking to Emmie, yeah, you know, she’s a tough girl. Ruthless on track. Very talented. Fast." I stated casually, checking his engine out "But you see, no matter how old she is, she’ll always be my little princess… and if everyone were to hurt her, make her sad, god forbid, break her heart? Make her cry… oh well."

"I don’t know what you mean… Emmie is… she’s great… but I didn’t…" he began to ramble but I just held up my hand, making him stop abruptly.

"What I’m saying, Nick, is… that’s a really nice kart you’re having… if you want to keep it that way… you better be as sweet as honey to my Emmie…" I smiled at him and got up "Because during these karting races accidents happen so fast…" I gently closed his visor "Good luck, Nick!" I said loudly and Lizzie looked over, smiling at me.

She didn’t have to know everything that I’m doing.

July 2037:

I watched as the kids cuddled him, one by one. Scratching his ears. Showering him with kisses.

"What did the doctor say?" Lizzie whispered and gently stroked by back, holding my hand.

"He won’t make the night. He said we should give him all his favourite treats…" I answered, voice broken and hoarse.

"I can stay with you? Lorenzo and Charlotte can pick up the kids and I stay with you and then we’ll go tomorrow together…" she began but I shook my head.

"You should be with them, they shouldn’t be alone…" I whispered and Lizzie nodded, kissing my cheek, wiping away some stray tears.

She walked down the lawn, sat down next to the kids and cuddled Arlo. His ears immediately stood up, of course, his mum was there. After a while they all said their final goodbyes, coming back in, Emmie hugged me immediately.

"You’ll stay with him, right? He won’t be alone?" she cried and I nodded.

"He won’t be alone, no. Not a single moment." I kissed her head and the twins squeezed right into our hug.

"Will he be in pain?" Elio’s voice barely above a whisper.

"No, little one. The doc gave him some medicine. He won’t feel anything. He will fall asleep…" I began and Enzo cried out.

"And then he won’t wake up anymore?" he asked and I nodded.

"He won’t." I swallowed hard and Lizzie gave Arlo one last kiss, then walked inside.

"We have to go now, come on. Dad will take care of our good boy." her voice was laced with tiny sobs. The kids slowly pulled away and I kissed them one by one on the forehead as they headed into the foyer, grabbing their bags.

"Will you be okay?" Lizzie whispered, pulling me into a tight embrace and I felt tears streaming down both our faces.

"Yeah… I’ll see you tomorrow…" one last kiss and she left with the kids.

I took a deep breath and walked outside, sat down next to Arlo on the soft lawn, the setting sun shining softly above us. He held up his head, tilting it a little and it reminded me of the day where I brought him home to our old flat. How I couldn’t tame him and knew that he would be a piece of work. All those years ago. Lizzie’s eyes, when she saw him, lighting up. The tears she cried. Happy tears. So many happy tears. The moments when Lizzie was pregnant first with Emmie, later with the twins. How protective Arlo was. Always looking out for his mum. Always putting his head on her belly. I scratched him behind his ears and he closed his eyes. Laying his head in my lap.

"Good boy. My Arlo. You can rest now. You took care of your mum and the kids whenever I couldn’t be here. Thank you, my sweet boy. I love you." I leaned down, kissing his head. I could hear his breathing becoming more shallow with every breath he took. I kept on stroking his soft fur. Giving him belly rubs. Kissing his head. Thinking about all the memories our little fur baby gifted us with. "I will miss you, Arlo. I love you. So much!" I whispered after a while and looked down. Watching closely. He wasn’t breathing anymore. Realising that he was gone "Goodbye, my Arlo."

September 2041:

"What’s up?" I asked, looking at Charles who just walked in "You look like you’ve seen a ghost?"

"That was John… he offered me the position as director of the FDA… starting next season…" Charles said and Enzo looked up from his iPad.

"Oh wow! Congrats Charles!" I got up from the barstool and kissed his cheek.

"Thanks…" he mumbled and I looked at him.

"You don’t sound too happy? You don’t want to do it?" I asked, but he shook his head.

"No, of course I’m happy. It’s just…" he stopped and looked at Enzo.

"I have to work now even harder… or people will say that I only got into the FDA because of you…" he said and Charles nodded.

"But that’s ridiculous. Everyone can see how talented you are. Also, you’re only 13… you won’t make it into the FDA for the next two or three years anyways…" I said, patting his arm but he sighed.

"Your mum is right, Enzo. Also, just because someone is in the FDA, doesn’t grant them a seat in a car." Charles said and I nodded.

"Yeah… sure." Enzo smiled and got up, hugging him "Congrats dad." he then grabbed his iPad and left the kitchen.

"Hey? It’s going to be just fine, okay? He’s talented. One of the best, if not the best… no one will think otherwise." I snaked my arms around Charles neck, pulling him closer "I’m so proud of you, my pretty boy."

"Thanks, cara mia." he smiled and kissed him, then he leaned his forehead against mine and he exhaled loudly "He really is the best right now… if he continues like this? Prema is already interested, also Carlin…"

"See? And that all without your help…"

"It’s 50% of my DNA in him, so I’d say a little of my help…" he laughed and I shook my head.

"You’re an idiot… but a cute one… so, yeah… that’s fine…"

September 2044:

"Okay… what’s going on here?" Enzo asked after a while, looking at Elio then at me "You said that there is something important we need to talk about, now we’re sitting here for ten minutes and nothing happened… I could sit in the simulator, you know?"

"Enzo!" I glared at him and he rolled his eyes a little.

"Sorry. But-… whatever." he groaned, crossed his arms and leaned back in the sofa.

"Elio, sweetheart? What is it?" Lizzie asked him quietly, smiling at him and he looked at me.

"It’s okay, take your time…" I encouraged him and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"Maybe not that much time, Nick is going to pick me up in… half an hour." Emmie said, looking at her phone.

"Nick?" I looked at her and Lizzie shook her head "And where are you and Nick going?"

"To Clara, she’s having a party with drugs and alcohol." Emmie rolled her eyes and I glared at her "We’re just going to the movies…"

"To the movies?" I repeated and she nodded.

"Charles? We’re here because of Elio, remember? So… focus." Lizzie said and I knew that tone.

"Can Elio then please speak up?" Enzo said and Emmie nodded.

"Yeah, I’m not done with my hairs yet…"

"Guys!" Lizzie and I said.

"I’m gay." Elio blurted out and the silence was loud.

He looked at me, then Lizzie, Emmie, both smiling, and lastly Enzo, who didn’t react at all.

"That’s wonderful, sweetheart. Thanks for telling us!" Lizzie got up and kissed his cheek, followed by Emmie, who hugged him.

"You’re damn brave, little bro." she chuckled and he smiled at her.

Enzo still didn’t react and I was about to say something, when Elio beat me to it.

"Zo?" he asked quietly.

"What? I thought you would tell us a secret or something?" Enzo replied and we looked at him.

"What do you mean?" Elio asked.

"You think I didn’t knew? We shared a womb, dumbass? I think I knew it before you knew it yourself. My point is. More girls for me, because now all the girls who like the tortured poet that is you, will come to me now… thanks for that, El." Enzo got up, clapped his brothers back and walked away "I’m in the sim… Singapore is next…"

"Unbelievable…" Emmie shook her head, kissing Elio’s cheek "Love you." then she was gone as well.

"Umm- I guess that’s it then?" Elio shrugged, following Emmie.

"That was…" I began but then shrugged.

"Well, they’re clearly your kids…" Lizzie chuckled "Or at least Enzo through and through…"

"Not gonna argue with that."

Monaco 2046:

"Why are you so nervous?" Emmie put down her headphones, watching Enzo anxiously replaying old videos from the Monaco Grand Prix "You know those streets better than anyone else? Dad used to drive the track with us almost daily when we were younger…"

"It’s not the same like in an F2 car! Especially after having 3 shitty races in a row… and after all it’s Monaco… not the easiest track for our family…" he mumbled and Charles rolled his eyes a little.

"Ooouuuhhh you touched there a sore spot, Enzo." I said and Charles glared at me "Oh don’t look at me like that."

"You should’ve never mentioned this stupid statistic…"

"First of all, I didn’t mention anything, it’s all over the internet and second of all, it’s not a statistic, it’s a curse-…" I began but he interrupted me.

"Curses don’t exist! You’re all too superstitious."

"Oh really? We are superstitious?" I cocked an eyebrow and our kids looked between us.

"Yeah, you are, curses don’t exist, stupid rituals or whatever don’t help… it’s just about you and the car and your abilities… nothing else!"

"Says the guy who wore red pants on every quali day because he wore red pants when he got his first pole."

"That was not because of that…" Charles protested but one look and he stopped.

"And then stopped wearing red pants on quail day because during a shitty season 2023, when nothing worked out for him he once didn’t wear red pants on quali day and got pole position… the next time he forgot them, he got pole position again and from then on he never wore red pants on quali day…"

"Whatever." Charles groaned and I had to chuckle.

"Just admit it, you were just as superstitious like the rest of us!"

"Nope." he shook his head.

"Oh come on dad, not even a little?" Emmie looked at him, big puppy eyes on full display.

"I mean… I just don’t believe in it…" he sighed.

"Maybe that’s the topic of my next podcast? Drivers and their rituals and superstitions?" she thought and I nodded.

"That would be interesting! You should talk to Arthur, he also had a weird ritual…" I smiled at Emmie and she already scribbled something down in her little notebook.

"Didn’t uncle Arthur also crash out in Monaco?" Elio asked, looking up from his phone and I nodded "But you didn’t? Not in F2 not in F1?… well maybe it’s just a Leclerc curse then… therefore Enzo you’re cursed."

"Okay, stop that now!" Charles rolled his eyes, glaring at me "Look what you’ve started!"

"Me? I didn’t start shit!" I said

"Language!" Enzo, Emmie and Elio said in unison, cackling away.

"Very funny…"

"Hey, you made us watch that old movie! What was it called? Aviators?" Elio asked.

"Avengers." Charles and I said and he grinned at me.

"Same thing." Elio mumbled.

"We kinda lose the plot here! Dad’s Monaco curse and Enzo shitting his pants driving here." Emmie wiggled her eyebrows at her little brother, who threw a bread roll at her.

"Enzo Doetterer-Leclerc! We do not treat food like that!" I reprimanded him.

"Sorry… but she’s egging me on! And it’s-it’s…" I saw how frustrated he was, but before I could react Elio already seemed to be having an idea.

"If it’s a Monaco curse and that only applies to Leclerc drivers… maybe you dropped the wrong last name then? Maybe for now you should go by Doetterer." he said matter of factly and I looked at Charles, his jaw clenched, a muscle ticking.

"If you want to drop my name, because you want to driver under your mums name? Fine by me. If you drop your name because of a stupid, not-existing curse… that’s something different…" he looked at Enzo who shrunk a little under his dad’s gaze.

"No one is dropping anyone’s name. You chose Leclerc, and I get it, shorter, easier to pronounce, the name of a five time world champion. Also 5 time winner of the Monaco Grand Prix! You studied the track, and now you get into your car and you focus on nothing else but the car and the track. Whatever happens then, happens." I said and Enzo sighed.

"I just want to make you guys proud…" he mumbled and Charles look softened, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"We are proud of you, Enzo! It’s not so easy coming fresh out of F3 and your fourth race in F2 is already Monaco, but you’ll manage, okay? And if not? That’s also not the end of the world… it took me years to even finish our home race…" he said and Enzo nodded slowly.

"It’s going to be fine, Enzo, you’ll see." I said and he got up.

"And if not, you’re just continuing a family tradition." Emmie laughed and walked away, dodging another bread roll.

"Don’t listen to her. Your mum is right, it’s going to be just fine." Charles smiled at Enzo who just sighed "Let’s watch the races together. Maybe I have some tips and tricks on what to do…"

"Rather on what not to do…" I chuckled quietly, a bread roll hitting me straight at the temple.

"You deserved that one…"

October 2046:

"Dad? What are you doing here?" he was surprised, I could tell.

"I wanted to see your work." I answered simply and he looked at me confused "Jo told me that you asked him for advice, what pictures to choose. And then I found the flyer in the rubbish bin. Crumpled."

"I mean, I know how busy you are with the FDA and Enzo in F2 now, preparing for F1 next season." he mumbled and I just shook my head.

"Elio, I’ll always make room for you and your passion. If I know about it…" I said and he nodded sheepishly.

"I know… it’s just that…" he began but then stopped.

"That what?" I asked and he sighed.

"I just thought that this is nothing that would interest you… I mean Emmie is studying sports journalism. Has her F1 podcast and blog, everyone loves her and she has so many subscriptions! Enzo is stepping right into yours and mums shoes, starting in F1 next year. And me? I’m not in any way like them. I like F1. As a fan to watch. But that’s it. I just thought that…" he said and now I sighed.

"You thought what? That I wouldn’t be proud of you, wouldn’t be interested in what you’re doing because it’s not F1 related?" I asked and he nodded and looked down "How many times do I have to tell you, that I’m proud of you, no matter what! Any passion of yours, is something I’m interested in, Elio."

He swallowed hard and looked up, then he turned a little, pointing behind him.

"Do you want to see my pictures?" he asked and I nodded excitedly.

"Did you know, when I was younger I was also really interested in photography! I just wasn’t as talented as you!" I said and he looked at me.

"I didn’t know that…" he replied and then pointed at the 5 pictures in front of us.

One showing Lizzie and me in our garden, another one was from Enzo as he was breezing past me and Emmie in the feature race of the last Monaco GP, the one in the middle a shot of an old F1 car engine, one from a wild and rough countryside, the last one a busy street in London, with Emmie in front, pointing at something.

"Wow Elio, these are amazing…" I whispered, taking a step closer.

The photographs were impressive. The colours. The contrast. The lighting. I loved every single one.

"Thanks dad… for being here…" Elio said after a while and I looked at him.

"This is what you should do, you know? I think you could be an amazing photograph…" I said and he smiled.

"Yeah… maybe I will one day…"

I left my office, heading downstairs when Stella, John Elkann’s assistant bumped into me.

"Sorry Stella, didn’t see you." I smiled apologetically.

"It’s fine Mr. Leclerc-…"

"Charles. I told you before, it’s just Charles…"

"Charles, of course. Umm do you have a minute?" she asked and I nodded.

"Sure, what’s the matter?"

"Mr. Elkann wants to talk to you. I sent you an invitation for a meeting next week, but we came here this morning on a whim and you know Mr. Elkann…" Stella smiled at me and I followed her.

"Yeah, if you can do it now, do it." I nodded "Do you know about what this meeting is?"

"Umm- I do… but it’s better if he tells you this…" she said shyly and I got nervous "Oh it’s nothing bad!"

"You sure? The big boss comes in just to chat?" I said and she smiled.

"You’ll see. He’s waiting for you." she knocked on the office door and opened it, letting me in.

"Charles, good to see you!" John got up from his chair and hugged me "How are you? The kids? Lizzie?"

"We’re all good, thanks." I smiled, still a little nervous.

"Enzo must be excited, now that he has a seat in F1 next year. It was only logical that we would want our best driver from the academy, soon to be F2 champion in our junior team in F1 next season."

"Yeah, he’s really excited. He is really grateful for this chance, I mean, we all are of course."

"He’ll make us proud, I have no doubt in that."

I smiled and nodded only.

"Okay, I make this quick, I don’t want you to have a heart attack. Charles, you did an amazing job as the director of the FDA, but now we think it’s time for someone new…" he began and I felt my stomach twisting "… because we would like you to step up and become the new team principal of Ferrari."

"Sorry what?" I was confused.

"We want you as team principal for the Scuderia Ferrari, starting next season."

"Me? As team principal? Ferrari. The F1 team?" I almost stuttered and he nodded.

"Yes. You’re the right one for the job. You know the team, the sport. You know how it works. We believe you’ll be amazing… so? What do you say?" John looked at me hopefully and I tilted my head a little.

"If I agree, I have one condition…" I said slowly.

"Of course. What is it?" he asked and I began to smirk.

"Monza. All black suit. All black car. And I mean all black. Not some weird grey patterns on black. Or some black car parts. All black. I’ve been deprived of it my whole career, when I wanted nothing more than to drive an all black car, wearing an all black suit…" I said and John looked at me for a moment before he laughed, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh how I remember the disappointment in your eyes when they showed you the suit for Monza 2025?-…"

"2024… and then 2027 again…" I added.

"… yeah. You hated the 2024 suit. And the livery…" he finished wiping tears away.

"I thought 2023 was bad… but that topped it I think…" I shrugged my shoulders.

"Alright Charles, Monza is black. But not every year, no? But the upcoming season for sure. Do we have a deal then?" he got up, buttoning his jacket close as I got up as well.

"We have a deal." I said shaking his hand.

"Well then it’s official, Charles Leclerc, new team principal of Scuderia Ferrari."

January 2047:

"Elio? There's a letter for you." I put it down in front of him, walking around the kitchen island "Are you coming to Enzo's first race?"

"Huh?" Elio looked up from the envelop in his hands "What?"

I chuckled a little, beginning to slice up some apples, watching him tilting his head a little reminding me of Charles.

"Are you coming to Enzo's first race? I know you're not that into F1 anymore, but I think Enzo wants you there.. it's also your dad's first race as team principal of Ferrari and I know for a fact that he would definitely love to have you there." I smiled at him, and he rubbed his neck, looking nervous "What's going on?"

"Oh umm-it's just… do you remember how I applied for the Parsons School of Design in New York? Studying there would be a dream, although... I mean, chances were little that they even consider me, comparing my photography to those of others? But... mum, they want me.. I'm in..." Elio whispered, and I dropped the knife "I mean... I applied there on a whim, I first need to cheek for scholarships because it's freaking expensive and-..." he began to ramble and I walked back around the island, stopping in front of him.

"I’m so proud of you, Elio. Wow! This is amazing!" I cupped his cheek, kissing it, watching him blush.

"Thanks mum, but it's like I said I have to check if they have scholarsh-…"

"You do know that your dad and I have a little money on the side, right?" I joked and he looked at me "You're going. No scholarship needed. It's noble from you, to think like that, but you don't need it. I'm sure, you would get a scholarship if you would apply for one, but someone might need it more than you..."

"Are you sure? It's expensive? Like really." Elio mumbled, and I laughed.

"Your dad is a 5 time Formula 1 world champion, Ferrari team principal, investor, founder and whatever of god knows what companies, I honestly lost count, and your mum, little old me, also managed to make a little fortune with clever investments and commercial deals and from driving 3 seasons in F1! So yes Elio, l'm sure. And even if not? We could always sell one or two of your dad's cars, I guess that would cover the tuition fees and everything else."

"Who wants to sell my cars for what?" Charles walked in, all sweaty, hair a mess.

"Elio has some big news..." I smiled at our son who nervously grabbed the envelop from the counter.

"Okay? Then shoot..." Charles opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, looking at Elio.

"So umm-... I applied at some universities... and the Parsons School of Design, they have one of the best photography programs worldwide, they accepted me..." Elio said nervously and Charles eyes brightened in an instant.

"The Parsons School of Design in New York? Wow! Elio, I'm so proud of you! Incredible!" he exclaimed, storming over to our son, pulling him into a tight embrace "You worked so hard for this! You deserve this so much, son. I'm really, really proud of you."

"Okay, Mr. Sweaty, can you please take a shower and not smother your sweat all over our son? Thank you!" I pulled Charles away from Elio.

"Hey! I just ran 5 kilometres! Of course I'm sweaty!" he snaked his arm around my waist, pulling me closer "I have to stay in shape for you cara mia..." he then whispered, his warm breath fanning over my skin, eliciting goosebumps all over, before he kissed my jaw.

"Eww! Here are children! Behave for fucks sake!" Enzo walked into the kitchen, fake gagging "Things I don't want to see before breakfast? My parents making out in front of me like horny teenagers!"

"You're just jealous because I landed a pretty girl and you didn’t." Charles laughed, pinching my waist "I'm going to take a shower and tonight we're celebrating you Elio..." he ruffled Elio's hair and was about to leave when he stopped "I still don't know why you want to sell some of my cars?" he looked at me.

"And I don't know why we're celebrating Elio?" Enzo plopped down on the stool next to his brother, eating his cereals "What did you do?"

"You're brother was accepted at the Parsons School of Design..." I said and he made big eyes.

"Are you serious El? Fucking hell, that's one of the best schools! I know that because you talked about it for years now! Congrats little bro!" Enzo side hugged his brother who smiled shyly.

"Thanks, but hey, you're only 3 minutes older, Zo..." Elio rolled his eyes playfully.

"Semantics..." Enzo shrugged his shoulders and I continued cutting the apples.

"Hello? I still want to know why my cars are being sold?"

"It was because of the costs of the school. But don’t worry, I won’t touch your precious cars…" I chuckled and Charles tilted his head, coming closer.

"You could sell them all, just not the F40… that one is special…" he said and I rolled my eyes.

"It’s your favourite car, I know…"

"Yeah, that too… but you bought it for me… so no, that one won’t be sold ever." he whispered and then kissed me, before stepping away "I’m going to take a shower now."

"And I need to wash my eyeballs with bleach…" Enzo mumbled and I saw the mischievous look on Charles face.

"Care to join me under the shower, cara mia?" he said, looking at me challenging.

"Sounds like a good idea. It’s also good for our planet… it saves water…" I put the knife down, grabbed the plate with the apple slices and put it down in front of the twins "Eat your fruits kiddos."

"Let’s go pretty girl, let’s save our planet…" Charles grabbed my hand, pulling me with him.

"One day you have to pay for your children’s therapy!" Enzo shouted after us and we both laughed.

"That’s fine. We can sell a car for that."

Montreal 2047:

"Charles. Round 7 here in Montreal, 2 Ferrari wins, but also 2 Ferrari DNFs. What are your thoughts on the season so far?"

"I think we started out pretty well. The DNFs were unfortunate, but you have to put into account that one was due to a damage after a collision, so I’d say only our DNF in Bahrain, where we had a mechanical issue, is something we need to work on." I answered and knew already what the follow up question would be.

"The collision in Miami you mentioned, was between your driver and your son… how do you handle such a sensitive situation?"

"That’s simple. I don’t. Enzo is not my driver. He has a team principal who talks with him after the races. That’s not my job. My job as his father is to tell him he gave his all and it didn’t work out, the next time it will…"

"But he’s driving for your junior team, I’m sure you have a say as well?"

"No, I don’t. Not my team. Not my place to say something."

"So you don’t think, you should’ve said something to Enzo about his attempt to overtake your driver at a corner that simply isn’t made for that? Which caused your driver to retire from the race? Costing Ferrari precious and well needed points?"

"Again. That’s his team principals job. Not mine. I did my job as his dad and that’s it." I said with finality in my voice, hoping the reporter would understand that he wouldn’t get a different answer from me.

"Thank you, Charles."

I nodded and got out, already seeing Enzo and his group preparing for their press conference. He saw me and rolled his eyes a little and I shrugged my shoulders, walking off towards the Ferrari hospitality where Lizzie sat, going through some timetables and documents

"What a bitch!" her first words and I had to chuckle.

"What did you expect. The Spanish media never liked me… why would they start now." I sat down next to her "What’s all that?"

"That are Mira and Callie’s schedules for the next weeks… who would’ve thought that managing two Formula 1 driver and co-directing the F1 Academy was so difficult." she chuckled and I sighed.

"Yeah well… who would’ve thought that being the team principal of Ferrari would only be my secondary problem and my first one would be my son who’s not even driving for my team…"

"I’m sorry they ask you these kind of questions." Lizzie sat up, cupping my cheek "And I’m sorry that Enzo is a little… well he hates that he’s compared to you all the time, so he’s a little frustrated and you’re the one who…"

"I know. And I’m not even mad at him. I’m sorry for him. But more in a way like… I know what good of a driver he is, I mean… he didn’t win his championships for nothing, but F1 is different. The media is different, the expectations… everything. I just don’t want him to crack under all the pressure." I mumbled and Lizzie rubbed soothing circles on my cheek.

"He’ll manage, you’ll see. He just needs time… and a thick skin." she said and I nodded, right when I saw Enzo picking up his microphone and turned up the volume.

"Julia Andres, ESPN Spain, question for Enzo. Out of the 6 races of this season you already had 3 DNFs, and finished only once in the points. Do you think the criticism from other drivers such as Ward Benton or Paolo Vasquez is justified that you only have a seat in F1 because of your famous father?"

"Well, no it’s not justified, because I’m not just here because of my famous father… also because of my famous mother, who won in 3 Formula 1 seasons more races than Benton and Vasquez have won combined in over 11 seasons together." Enzo answered and some of the journalists laughed. Vasquez on the end of the right side of the sofa only clenched his jaw, glaring at him.

"So you don’t think it’s justified?"

"I worked my ass off to be here. I won every junior championship there is on the first attempt. Did I have it easier than others because I never had to think about the finances and never had to think about if I wouldn’t win the next race a sponsor might drop out and I wouldn’t have the money to continue? Yes. I know how privileged I am. I know that the chance that I have to race now in F1 is huge and I have to step up my game to prove that I deserve it. I know that better than anyone else. But to say I’m only here because of my famous last name? No. Not justified. Because right now my last name is more a curse than a blessing… everyone looks at my races, sees my name and asks themselves and that’s the son of Charles Leclerc and Lizzie Doetterer? So yeah… I know that my results aren’t promising, but I’m working hard on turning my season around…"

"Thank you Enzo…"

He smiled but I knew him better than anyone, I saw how defeated and frustrated he was, his shoulders tense.

"I want to go in there and hit them. All of them…" Lizzie was seething, seeing the pain in Enzo’s eyes.

"He handled that pretty well, better than I would have to be honest." I smiled a little and she nodded.

"Still. These kind of questions are unfair… and Benton and Vasquez? I want to hit them too…"

"It’s okay mama bear. I want to hit them too. Or run them over…" I joked and she chuckled a little, then threw all of her stuff into her bag "And now you’re leaving me to look after him… fair enough…" I got up.

"Mama bear has to look for her cub, no?" she laughed and kissed my cheek when she spotted something behind me and I turned around.

Between our motorhome and the Mercedes one all the drivers from the press conference and some more were standing huddled together, Enzo, Benton, Vasquez in the middle, looking at each other like they would kill one other any minute. I walked towards the exit and opened the door, but stopped when I heard the dispute.

"Just admit it, without your famous Dad, you wouldn’t even be here." Benton rolled his eyes.

"Yeah just that he’s a failed mini Leclerc, right?" Vasquez sneered.

"Mini Leclerc-Doetterer… and at least I’m having my parents last name, they weren’t ashamed of me… can’t say that about you and your old man, never once world champion Carlos Sainz jr." Enzo smiled, everyone now staring at Vasquez "Oh right. I forgot. No one knew who your daddy was… well oops… now they know. Now they all know how you made it to F1… because let’s face it, without your dad and his influence in Williams, you wouldn’t be here… you didn’t even drive in any junior series. Straight from karting to F3 and then without a title nothing into F1. Where you drive now for 4 seasons, and only won one race because of a penalty and two disqualifications."

"I swear to god, Leclerc, shut the fuck up or…" Vasquez began when I cleared my throat, making all the drivers flinch.

"Charles." Marco, one of my drivers said and I looked at him "They were just about to go to our teams."

"Yeah… right." Benton said, pulling Vasquez with him, who glared at me.

"Tell your dad I said hi." I shouted after him and then turned around, only Enzo left, Lizzie behind me looking at him.

"Enzo Leclerc! Do you have anything to say?" she sounded mad, but there was something else in her voice, and if I wasn’t mistaken it sounded a little like pride.

"I’m sick of them asking me the same questions again and again! I’m sick of everyone saying I’m only here because of you!" he said looking at us but I shook my head.

"You can’t listen to that, Enzo. You have to ignore it. They will use that against you again and again."

"I know, okay? But it sucks still." he mumbled and Lizzie walked towards him.

"I know Enzo, believe me when I arrived in F1 I had to go through the same… but just because they have this opinion of you, doesn’t mean that they’re right, okay? Do the talking on track. That’s what I did. And your dad as well… just don’t give a fuck about them."

"Hey!" I pinched her side and she laughed "No curse words!"

"Whatever." she rolled her eyes.

"What I’m saying is, you made it this far because of your talent. You’re a damn good driver and it’s time that you finally see that yourself, don’t give a fuck about others, and just focus on yourself. Your race. Your team. You. Don’t listen to anything else." Lizzie nudges his shoulder and I nodded.

"Your mum is right. Always when I had a shitty season and I was too much in my head everything got worse, but the moment I stopped caring about others and started focusing on myself, it was always like the penny dropped and I was able to turn the season around."

"You know how uncle Danny always said fuck 'em all? Well… that’s the kind of attitude you need now… but please stay within the rules…" Lizzie chuckled and Enzo nodded.

"Alright… you’re right. I have to focus on myself." he said and hugged Lizzie, then me "I’m sorry dad, but Marco and Lucas won’t win this weekend. It’s my turn…" he winked once and then walked off.

"Well, I guess you have to talk to your drivers…" Lizzie said and I cocked an eyebrow "They have to watch out for Enzo. If he’s like you? He’s a menace and will force them into making mistakes that he will use to overtake…"

"That was more your field of expertise…"

"Congrats Zo! Damn what a race! Emmie and I woke up the entire hotel." Elio said and Emmie next to him nodded.

"You really kicked some asses today. I’m proud little bro. Seriously. The face of Vasquez and Benton? Priceless. I swear. I can’t wait to talk about it in my next podcast. You should be one of my guests!" Emmie said excitedly and Enzo smiled from ear to ear.

"If I can say whatever I want to? Yes. No PR trained answers. Just what I have to say…"

"Enzo…" Lizzie mumbled and I laughed.

"Maybe tone it down a little, you still have to race for a while with these guys…" I said and Enzo shrugged his shoulders a little.

"How’s New York? The campus? Tell me everything!" he asked and Elio and Emmie began to describe every single detail of their trip.

I looked at Lizzie, how she smiled at our kids, squeezed into Enzo’s side so she could see Emmie and Elio on the screen. She looked up and tilted her head a little and I nodded towards the door and got off the sofa, Lizzie following me.

"What’s up?" she asked and I grabbed her by the waist, kissing her "As much as I like that, something is going on in here…" she tapped at my forehead with her fingers and I smiled.

"Marco will retire at the end of this season…" I began and her eyes widened "John wants Enzo, but only if he proves himself… today was… today was amazing, but he needs more weekends like this."

"And you doubt that he will have them?"

"No! God, cara mia!" I said immediately, shaking my head "I just don’t want to put him under too much pressure. You know? But I also want him to race every weekend like today. If he continues like this? He’ll be driving for us next season."

"You won’t tell him, right?" Lizzie asked and I shook my head.

"I wasn’t even allowed to tell you… but we have no secrets so…"

"Don’t worry, I won’t tell him. He will do just fine, you’ll see. He doesn’t need our help. Not anymore. And if so, he knows he can always come to us…"

"You’re right. He’ll manage." I kissed her cheek and looked at the sofa, where Enzo was telling Elio and Emmie everything about his final overtake of Marco.

He would make it. He would prove that he deserves a seat at Ferrari. He would do just great.

Summer 2048:

"Here, cara mia." Charles handed me a glass of wine and sat down next to me "What are you thinking about?"

"Oh nothing…" I said quietly, but he pinched my side.

"We’re married for almost 23 years, together for more than 25 years, I know you for over 40 years… I know when something is going on in there… so spill the beans…" he pulled me into him, kissing my temple.

"It’s just… Charles we’re 50… our kids are successful young adults. Emmie’s podcast is in the top 10 of the most influential Formula 1 podcasts, one of Elio’s photographs was used in the newest National Geographic magazine and Enzo just won his first race in Formula 1… isn’t it crazy?" I said and Charles was quiet for a while, before he chuckled "What?"

"It’s crazy… you’re right. But it’s wonderfully crazy, don’t you think? Our kids are truly amazing, they go their own way, are their own people, but never forget where they’re coming from…" he said and I nodded.

"Who would’ve thought that this would be our life one day…"

"Me. From the moment I realised that I was in love with you. This was what I was hoping for. You and me. 3 kids. A wonderful house you made into our home. That was the life I was dreaming of…" he whispered and I turned a little, looking at him "I told you before that from the moment I met you, you were intertwined in my brain, my thoughts, my mind, every fibre of my body. You were it for me. I know I took a stupid detour, but at the end of the day it was just that, a detour, just a stupid bump in the road to my destiny. You."

"I always loved how you were able to say things like that out of nowhere…" I smiled at him and he chuckled.

"You’re the biggest inspiration there is." he cupped my cheeks and kissed me, time stopped and for a moment it felt like our very first kiss all those years ago in Miami, after I crashed out, after Charles confessed his feelings for me. I opened my eyes and looked at him. The little freckles on his skin, the gold speckles in his eyes. The boyish smile with his gorgeous dimples. For a moment it all came back and I saw the young boy I fell in love with all those years ago before my eyes.

"I love you, Charles Leclerc."

"I love you, Lizzie Doetterer-Leclerc."

"It’s you and me. Against the world…"

"…always."

The End ♥️

And that’s it. Again, thank you all for reading. It’s been one hell of a ride. ♥️

(Also, congrats Charles on WINNING Monza!!!)

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@itsjustkhaos @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @silkenthusiasts @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @shimmermotorsport @janeh22 @kahhorri @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09 @fangirlforever2000

[forest-hashira]

Noble Blood - Chapter Ten

...hi guys. long time no see... i promise i didn't mean to make you guys wait almost two months for an update, but. i survived a hurricane and got a new puppy among other Life Things in the meantime, so. you know. also i had to split this chapter yet again, so the events i thought would be contained in one chapter (ch8) now spans four whole chapters, which means more for you guys to read! so i hope that makes up for it.

also, going forward, satoru's mother will be referred to as "gojo-hime", with "-hime" being an honorific used for high ranking/noble ladies. i am aware that gojohime is also a ship, but that is not what i'm referring to in this fic! for clarification purposes it will always include the hyphen in between the name and the honorific. anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

fic masterlist | read on ao3 | wc: ~6.2k | cw: gender neutral reader, the beginning of the aftermath of finding reader's dragon, satoru's dad is once again a dick, light angst, some crying, brief moment of light violence, i think that's it!

You exchanged a baffled look with your friends at the sound of your mother’s rage, though for a moment none of you moved, unsure of what you should do. When the sound of your mother’s voice grew closer, though, her anger practically rattling the walls, you nearly toppled out of your seat in your rush to meet her.

“Ma’am, you can’t go that way without—”

“I will search every inch of this estate if I have to!” your mother interrupted, and you opened the door to the dining room just in time to see her turn on the staff that were attempting to stop her. Her hair was a mess, a bit tangled and clearly unbrushed as it fell around her shoulders. She still wore her robe, a small bit of the fabric of her pajamas peeking out at the neck; it was unclear if she’d slept fitfully the night before, or if she’d even slept at all, but even with signs of sleep draped over her, she was a force to be reckoned with.

“If you do not tell me where my child is right this instant I will tear this house apart, starting right here in the hallway. I’ll pull the floorboards up with my bare hands. What has that man done with my baby?”

The servants in the hallway stood frozen in place, more than one of them having gone pale faced at your mother’s rage, but what drove you to call out to her wasn’t pity, it was the ache in your chest that had been there since you’d been commanded to stay the night away from home.

“I’m here, mom,” you said, stepping out of the dining room, still clutching Takara to your chest. “I’m right here.”

The sound of your voice had your mother whirling around again, her eyes wide as she finally caught sight of you. “Oh thank god,” she choked out, closing the distance between you in just a few steps and falling to her knees before you. With tears in her eyes, she looked you over for any sign of injury, taking your face in her hands and tilting your head back and forth, her voice nearly frantic as she repeatedly asked “What happened? Did they do anything to you? Are you hurt?”

“Nobody did anything to me, I’m not hurt,” you told her, your own eyes filling with tears now that you were reunited with your mother. “I’m okay.”

Your mother seemed to relax a bit at your reassurances, but when Takara let out a small, curious noise from her spot in your arms, your mother startled a bit and looked down. When she caught sight of the creature in your hold, her eyes flew wide again.

“What—”

“She’s mine,” you said quietly. “Her name is Takara.”

As you spoke, Takara shifted slightly in your hold, resting her chin on the side of your hand and looking back up at your mother. She didn’t make a sound, though her emerald eyes remained unblinking all the while.

After another moment of staring at the hatchling in disbelief, your mother lifted her gaze to yours again, and her expression softened a bit. “She’s lovely,” she said quietly. “I told you you’d find your dragon soon, didn’t I?” 

You nodded at her words, but when one of her hands released your face to stroke your hair, you felt your bottom lip begin to tremble as tears filled your eyes. “Yeah,” you agreed. “You did.” You didn’t protest as she carefully wiped away the tear that slipped down your cheek, though she didn’t otherwise acknowledge that you were crying, which you appreciated.

The moment between the two of you came to an abrupt end when Kenji and Niji raced out of the dining room, squeezing themselves between you and your mother, both of them sniffing you all over until the boys called them back. Seeing your friends’ dragons made you realize that your mother’s was absent.

“Where’s Spark?” you asked, brows furrowed slightly.

“Your father made him stay home,” she replied. “He wasn’t handling my mood very well, and probably would’ve just made the situation worse.” She stood, pulling her hands away from your face in the process, and offered you a smile. Exhaustion was plain as day on her face, but it was clear she was trying to hide it for your sake, so you said nothing. 

“Now,” she said, reaching towards you once again, as if to guide you down the hall and out the front door. “We should be getting home, don’t you think?”

Before you could give so much as a nod in response, a familiar voice set your heart racing with anxiety.

“They won’t be going anywhere for the next week,” Gojo-sama said, stepping into the hallway from who knew what room in the house. Despite the early hour, he looked as composed as ever, dressed in clothes that you could tell from barely a glance were more expensive than your family could ever hope to own, his greying hair combed back from his face, not a single strand out of place. His hands were tucked into the sleeves of his shirt, and he wore a placid yet stern expression.

Upon noticing his presence, the servants bowed deeply, then rushed to get out of his way. The rest of you – dragons included – turned to face him, practically frozen in place as you waited for him to speak again. Before you’d had to face him in the dragon housing the night before, you’d never fully understood why people feared your best friend’s father the way they did. It was clear to you now, though; his mere presence was enough to have you shaking, authority and muted anger practically radiating from him.

“And why, exactly, is that?” your mother asked. She was completely rigid at your side, but her voice was steady, not betraying any hesitance or fear she might have been feeling. 

“Because the first week spent with a dragon after bonding with them is an incredibly delicate time, as I’m sure you’re aware,” Gojo-sama replied, his voice dripping with condescension. “And historically, that period is especially precarious and important for metallic dragons and their riders. It’s best to disturb them and their surroundings as little as possible. Which means they’ll both have to stay here for the time being, I’m afraid. They need someone to keep an eye on them, to make sure nothing is going wrong, and that the whole process is as smooth as possible.”

“Are you insinuating that I am not capable of caring for my own child? That our own home isn’t suitable for them and their dragon?” Your mother’s voice was sharper now, a hard edge you weren’t used to hearing from here, even when she was scolding you or disagreeing with your father.

“What if I am? Metallic dragons and their riders deserve the best of everything the world has to offer, and you and I both know which of our families is capable of providing that.” 

The smug expression he wore didn’t last long. Her anger finally seeming to win against her fear of the man, your mother stormed towards Satoru's father and slapped him across the face before anyone else had a chance to stop her. 

You, Satoru, and Suguru watched, wide-eyed, as your mother lifted her hand as if preparing to strike him again, but this time he caught her wrist.

His eyes burned as he glared at her. “I would advise against trying that again,” he growled, voice low and simmering with danger. “Your luck will not be so good a second time.”

“And I would advise you release me right this instant,” your mother bit back. “If you don’t I’ll scream so loud the whole settlement will hear, and I’ll tell every single person that you kidnapped my child. That wouldn’t be a very good look for you, now would it?”

Gojo-sama’s face flushed bright red all over, briefly disguising the handprint your mother had left on his cheek. Even from several feet back, you could see the fury in his cold eyes – the same blue as Satoru’s, but completely lacking the playful warmth – and he only seemed to tighten his grip on your mother’s wrist.

The silence that blanketed the hallway was deafening, no one even seeming to breathe as the stalemate between the two adults dragged on. Just when it seemed that Gojo-sama had decided he was going to exact some sort of punishment against your mother for her behavior, another person stepped into the hallway.

“Goshujin-sama,” the woman called out softly, and your eyes went wide when you realized who she was. With her pale skin and long white hair – an even purer white than Satoru’s, somehow – there was no mistaking the lady of the house; Satoru’s mother, Gojo-hime. You dared a glance over at Satoru, unsure what his reaction would be to seeing his mother intervene in this conflict, especially since you’d gotten the feeling that Satoru didn’t often see his mother, much less outside her bedroom. 

Apparently equally as shocked by the woman’s appearance, both your mother and Satoru’s father turned to look at her. Your mother’s eyes were wide, and for the first time since she’d arrived, she looked almost embarrassed over her behavior. If Gojo-sama harbored such feelings, he did a much better job of disguising them. 

“Gojo-fujin,” the man replied, his tone measured, almost cautious, as he looked over at his wife. “Are you feeling well? I’m sorry if our… unexpected guest has disturbed you at all.” His words earned him a scowl from your mother, though she offered no actual argument, most likely in respect of the woman before her.

“A servant came to fetch me when they noticed your disagreement,” Gojo-hime explained, carefully making her way over to her husband. “I know you both want what is best for the child and their dragon,” she added, placing a hand lightly on her husband’s shoulder once she reached his side. “But you have differing opinions on how to give them that.”

Her gentle gaze landed on her husband’s, and she offered him a smile. “Why don’t you and I discuss it in a bit?” she suggested. “In the meantime, you should let this kind woman return home. She was just worried about her child when they didn’t come home last night. Weren’t you?” 

The last two words were directed at your mother, and she quickly nodded. “Yes, I was,” she agreed. “But I can see now that no harm has come to them. So if you would be so gracious to allow me to return home without argument, Gojo-sama, I will go willingly. And I will only return if I am summoned by you or Gojo-hime.”

Gojo-sama returned his gaze to your mother, clearly not thrilled by the proposal. He also seemed hesitant to disagree with his wife, though you weren’t entirely sure why; Satoru had never mentioned seeing his parents be even remotely affectionate with each other, and you found it hard to believe the man could actually feel love for another person, based on the way he’d treated you since you’d been caught with a metallic hatchling in your arms.

Eventually, though, he let out a sigh, and reluctantly released your mother’s wrist. “Very well,” he said, words clipped. “We will send for you once we’ve reached a decision on how to proceed." His eyes drifted to you for a moment, and he added, “Do not linger longer than you have to.” 

With a nod, your mother was quick to turn away from the man and hurry back to you. She pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly to her chest for as long as she dared. It wasn’t long enough to soothe the ache in your chest, even when she dropped a kiss to the top of your head before she released you.

She turned back to the heads of the family, bowing low and murmuring, “Thank you, Gojo-hime, Gojo-sama,” before making her way down the hall. You understood why she didn’t look back at you again, but every step she took brought you closer to tears.

You startled slightly when a hand landed on your shoulder, but relaxed again when you saw that it was Satoru. More than anything, you wanted to turn and fall into him, to let your tears fall and let him comfort you the way you knew he would, but the humiliation of showing such emotion – which no doubt would be perceived as weakness – in front of Gojo-sama made you feel sick to your stomach. So, instead, you offered your friend a small nod of thanks.

When Gojo-hime called your name, her voice just as soft as before, you both turned back to face her. The smile she gave you was gentle, her eyes warm and kind as she really took in the sight of you. “Would it be okay if we talked for a bit?” she asked. “We can go back to my room, if you’d like. We’ll have more privacy.”

The words had barely left her lips before Satoru’s hand was falling from your shoulder. You were quick to look over at him, and what you saw broke your heart all over again; you’d never seen him look so defeated, apparently resigned to the fact that he was likely never going to get any quality time with his mother ever again, even if other people did. 

Standing on the other side of the snowy haired boy, Suguru caught your attention, his expression painted with a worried frown that mirrored your own. Without even needing to exchange any words, you knew that the two of you were in agreement about what needed to happen.

“Only if Satoru can come with me.” As you spoke, you turned to face your friend’s mother, trying to remain respectful even as you asserted yourself.

Gojo-hime’s sparkling eyes drifted to her son, and her expression softened even more around the edges. “Of course he can come,” she agreed. “I would hate to separate you from your friends.”

Her words had your ears perking up a bit in interest. “Suguru can come too, then?” you asked hopefully; it didn’t seem fair to leave the other boy on his own if you and Satoru were to be whisked away for who knew how long.

“Absolutely, as long as that’s what he wants.” Her eyes drifted from her son to the dark haired boy then, her serene expression never changing. 

Suguru was quick to nod in agreement, though he said nothing.

“Very well then,” Gojo-hime hummed, her gaze meeting yours once again. “You can all follow me.”

Though he barely moved, the woman squeezed her husband’s shoulder for a moment. “I’m more than capable of handling them on my own, goshujin-sama,” she told him. Her smile seemed a bit tighter as she spoke, her words almost too sweet when addressing the man.

Despite obviously being displeased by the unvoiced rejection, Gojo-sama made no attempt to argue, only sighed and nodded. “We will speak about this again later.”

“Of course we will.”

With one last glance at you, the Gojo family patriarch took his leave, heading down an adjacent hallway, heading off to a different part of the estate to… do whatever it was he did all day, you supposed.

“Shall we?” Gojo-hime said, smiling at the three of you and tilting her head slightly in the direction she had first come from.

Wordlessly, you nodded, adjusting your hold on Takara to where she was secure in one arm. Once your other hand was free, you reached out and took Satoru’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before you started after the woman. There was a small sound of surprise from your friends behind you, but they quickly fell into step, Kenji and Niji taking up the rear of your little parade. At one point you glanced over your shoulder to see how the boys were feeling about the situation, and you noticed that Satoru’s other hand was gripping Suguru’s; for some reason seeing that made your heart give a little flip.

Soon enough, Gojo-hime came to a stop in front of a wooden door, delicately carved with what appeared to be cranes and lotus flowers. She turned the knob and pushed it open, then turned to the three of you and ushered you into the room first, only stepping inside herself and closing the door once again once Kenji and Niji had cleared the threshold. 

“Please, sit,” she encouraged, her smile never once leaving her face. “Wherever you’re most comfortable is fine, I don’t mind.”

The three of you sat down on some large floor cushions, all of them somehow both softer and more solid than you had expected. Once you were all settled, you realized you had wound up in between the boys, and for that you were privately relieved; having them on either side of you made you feel more secure. Kenji and Niji settled beside their respective masters, heads in their laps, eyes focused on Takara, where she now laid curled up in your own lap.

“Now, I know you’ve just had breakfast,” Satoru’s mother continued, “but would any of you like something to drink? Any tea, or anything like that?” When all three of you shook your heads, she settled down on her own cushion a few feet away, facing you. She spent a few moments in silence, apparently just taking all three of you in.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable under the weight of her gaze, no matter how kind, you allowed yourself to glance around the room. Despite the fact that the sun had risen a few hours before, the room was very dimly lit, the windows covered with heavy curtains, and the screens in the shoji door at the opposite end of the room seemed thicker than you were used to, not letting in as much light as the rest of the shoji doors in the rest of the house. You couldn’t help but wonder if the low lighting was because of her headaches. Satoru had told you before that, when he had his headaches, almost any amount of light felt like daggers in his eyes; maybe it was the same for his mother.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t go home with your mother.”

The words nearly made you jump with how quickly they drew you from your thoughts, and it took you a moment to realize they were directed at you.

“I’ll do my best to get you home to your parents as soon as possible,” Satoru’s mother promised. “But in the meantime, I’m glad to see that the clothes I sent for you this morning fit you.”

You nodded dumbly at her words, glancing down at your shirt. Seeing its color again had a question spilling from you before you could stop it. “Who do these clothes belong to? Satoru and Suguru don’t wear colors like this.”

Her expression grew sad at your enquiry and she dropped your gaze, though her smile remained intact. “I had a lot of clothes made when Satoru was very young,” she explained softly. “I… I had hoped for a long time that I would be able to have another baby, but it never happened.”

She met your eyes again with a small, bittersweet laugh. “But I accepted that years ago. I’m just glad the clothes won’t have to waste away in boxes anymore.”

Your throat felt tight as you listened to her speak, having not expected such an answer from her. It seemed almost miraculous that she could still be so kind after a hurt like that, and you were glad that she was so kind, so gentle, even if nobody would have blamed her if she’d grown bitter instead.

Maybe, you thought to yourself, she needs somewhere for all her love to go.

“Thank you,” you managed after a moment, blinking rapidly to keep from crying over what she had shared with you. “They’re very nice clothes, and I promise to take good care of them.”

“I wouldn’t be upset even if you destroyed them,” she assured you, then looked over at her son. “Satoru knows. He ruined more of his clothes when he was small than he would probably care to admit.”

When you turned to Satoru, you weren’t all that surprised to find he’d gone bright red, mumbling something under his breath about how it wasn’t his fault expensive clothes weren’t good to play in. The sight made you giggle, and you heard a soft chuckle from Suguru and another quiet, melodic laugh from Gojo-hime. With a groan, Satoru covered his face with his hands and flopped backwards, trying to escape the spotlight in any way he could.

Apparently deciding to have some mercy on her only child, Gojo-hime called your name again, waiting until your attention was back on her to speak again. “I really would like to know how you’re feeling about all this, and how you want to handle it.”

Your smile slipped at her words, and you took a moment to really consider what she was asking you. How did you feel? You weren’t really sure. Everything had happened so fast, you weren’t even entirely sure you’d processed all of it.

“Well,” you began tentatively. “It still doesn’t feel completely real, honestly. I mean… I’ve been waiting so long to meet my dragon, I guess I just kind of stopped thinking I ever would?” Your gaze dropped to Takara, who was already looking up at you, completely still except for her breathing. The corner of your lips twitched in the tiniest hint of a smile, and you stroked the top of her head lightly with a fingertip.

“I’m thrilled to finally have my dragon, of course, but… I just don’t understand why I’m the only person to bond with a metallic dragon in so long.” Your voice grew quieter and quieter as you spoke, until your words were barely above a whisper. “Why me? What makes me more special than anyone else? I’m not even from one of the big clans.”

You lifted your head to meet Gojo-hime’s gaze yet again; though her eyes were so much darker than Satoru’s, you could see the same warmth in them, the same openness. Despite your best efforts, you felt tears spring to your eyes once more. “Why did it have to be me? I never wanted to be anything special. I just wanted to meet my dragon and go back to how things were, living at home with my parents and spending time with my friends. I didn’t want to be anyone important, I just wanted to be me.”

By the time you finished speaking, your vision was completely blurred over and tears were pouring down your cheeks. Your breathing turned shallower, more like hiccups than regular breathing, and when you felt two sets of arms wrap around you, two warm, steady presences holding you between them, you only began to cry harder. Everything you’d kept bottled up, even beyond the previous day’s events, came pouring out of you, and you were powerless to stop it at all.

The feeling of two soft, slender hands cradling your cheeks caused you to finally lift your head from where it had fallen against Satoru’s shoulder, and you sniffled weakly as Gojo-hime carefully wiped your tears away.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, thumbs stroking lightly over your cheekbones. “You were always going to be important. Everyone is important in their own way.”

“But some people are really important,” you replied quietly, still trying to quell your tears.

She only shook her head at you. “Everyone is equally important, okay? Everyone. I’m not more important than the three of you, or more important than any of the staff that work here at the estate. None of us can do what we do without each other.”

You were silent for a moment, but eventually you gave a small nod. “Okay…” you whispered. Sniffling again, you let yourself lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering shut as she continued to wipe your tears away.

“I don’t know why it was you,” she continued after a moment. “I wish I had an answer for that, but I don’t. But I do know that you’re going to do great things. Whatever reason you were chosen for, no matter what it is, you will be more than capable of living up to it.”

“How do you know that?”

Gojo-hime just smiled at you, her genuine affection for you spilling out in her words. “Because you won’t have to do it alone. The people who love you will help you through it all.”

You wanted to ask how she could be so sure, ask her why she was so confident that you would eventually be able to do whatever needed to be done, but you didn’t want to argue. Knowing she had faith in you was enough for the moment, and you nodded slightly, allowing her words to reassure you, at least for the time being.

Once she was convinced you believed her, Gojo-hime pulled her hands from your cheeks, moving back to her seat. She allowed you a moment to compose yourself and wipe the few remaining tears from your face before she changed subjects a bit.

“How do you want to handle this, sweetheart?” she asked. “I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to convince my husband to agree to everything, but if I know where to start, it will be a bit easier to get him to compromise.”

“I want to go home,” you answered, almost before she finished speaking. “I miss my parents, and I want to go home. As soon as possible.”

“Of course. It’s clear that your mother wants you back home as soon as possible, too, so I will do my best to make that happen. Anything else?”

Knowing she would sit patiently and wait for however long it took for you to come up with an answer did a great deal to ease your mind, and took off the pressure to already know exactly what you wanted. “I think… it would probably be good for me to train with Yaga-sensei. My parents will help me as much as they can, I know, but… metallic dragons don’t show up for no reason, right? And I need to be as prepared as possible for whatever is coming.”

Hearing yourself say those words aloud was almost surreal; it was a mature take on the situation, a logical next step, but you weren’t ready to be mature like that yet. You wanted to be a kid for a little while longer, to spend time with your friends without responsibilities for another year or two, but that clearly was no longer in the cards for you. Growing up was coming sooner rather than later.

You spent a bit longer considering what you wanted and telling Gojo-hime those things as you decided them. She’d said she probably wouldn’t be able to get you everything you wanted, but she had promised to try her best, so you had hope. It was hard to gauge exactly how long you’d spent in the room, due to the reduced amount of light, but it felt like you’d been there for ages. Not in a bad way, though; being around Gojo-hime with your friends beside you and your dragon in your lap was rather peaceful, actually, even if the situation wasn’t ideal. 

When you finally felt you had covered all your bases, you glanced over at Satoru, the smile he offered you doing wonders to boost your confidence that you’d done well. Suguru wore a smile for you, too, when you turned and looked at him. Though his smile was a bit softer than Satoru’s, it was no less encouraging, and you felt the last bit of tension bleed from your shoulders.

“Thank you, Gojo-hime,” you said, turning back to face the woman. “I feel a lot better now that I’ve gotten to talk it out a bit.”

“You’re very welcome, sweetheart. I know this is a lot, and I wanted to give you an opportunity to take it in.” She hadn’t said anything about it in all the time you and your friends had been in the room with her, but you could tell how tired she was. “I won’t keep you here any longer, though. You can go if you’re ready.”

You nodded, picking Takara up with one hand and carefully standing from your seat. The hatchling shifted in your hold, making a small mumbling noise before falling back asleep. You could hear your friends standing from their seats just behind you, and you bowed to the Gojo matriarch as you thanked her once again.

She waved you off with a quiet laugh. “There’s no need for those kinds of formalities when Gojo-sama isn’t around,” she promised. 

A bit embarrassed, you nodded, then turned with the boys to leave the room and give Gojo-hime a chance to rest. You turned back almost instantly though, a question you were eager to have answered jumping to the front of your mind. “Where is your dragon?” you asked curiously. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a dragon before.”

Her expression brightened a bit as she answered, “Oh, she stays in one of the housing buildings on the other side of the estate. You met her last night.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I did?”

“You did,” she confirmed. “Takara is her daughter.”

Eyes flying wide with shock, you blinked dumbly a few times, before uttering a very intelligent, “Oh.” 

Your response drew another soft laugh from the woman’s lips, though it was clear she wasn’t making fun of you. “Funny how those things work out sometimes, hm?” she mused, then pushed herself to her feet.

“Yeah,” you agreed quietly, once again turning to give Gojo-hime her space back. Before you’d taken more than just a couple of steps, though, you heard her voice call out again.

“Satoru, could you come here for a moment, please?”

Pausing, you exchanged a look with your best friend, only continuing on when he gave you a nod. Suguru opened the door, and you stepped out into the hallway, Suguru and Niji close behind. You turned back towards the room as Suguru pulled the door closed behind himself, and in the crack of the open doorway, you caught a glimpse of Satoru hugging his mother tightly, her arms wrapped around him as she pressed a kiss to the top of his head. You were quick to look away, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment.

The next day, after what you could only assume was a very long discussion with his wife, Gojo-sama summoned your mother back to the estate to discuss his proposal for your life going forward; thankfully you were in the room for the discussion, too. Gojo-hime had been right when she’d told you her husband wouldn’t agree to everything you’d asked for, but he had conceded to more than you had thought.

“Your child will stay here at the estate for the remainder of the bonding period, but after that they can return home with you for a while. Once their dragon is big enough to begin training under Yaga, they will live here for most of the week, but will be allowed to return home to you and your husband a day or two each week.”

“That is not acceptable,” your mother was quick to interrupt, already beginning to scowl at Satoru’s father.

“Which part specifically?” he asked, already looking a bit exasperated with the whole situation. 

“Expecting my child to live away from me most of the week for the foreseeable future. I won’t stand for it.” As stubborn as your mother was, you knew that this was one thing she would not allow Gojo-sama to deny her.

He let out a long sigh through his nose, closing his eyes for a moment as he asked, “What would you suggest as an alternative, then? Because it was your child’s idea to train with Yaga in the first place, and I doubt you want to deny them that opportunity any more than I do.”

Apparently a bit surprised that you were the one who had suggested training at the estate, your mother glanced at you briefly before returning her attention to the man before you. “I want them home every night for dinner and to sleep in their own bed,” she said. “They can be here during the day for training, and even for academic lessons, if that’s something they want, but they will be home to eat dinner with myself and my husband every evening, without exception, and will get to sleep in their own bed overnight.”

For a long moment – one that seemed to stretch on for hours rather than seconds – the two adults stared each other down, neither of them apparently willing to back down on the subject. The apparent stalemate they were in made you worry; what would your mother do if Gojo-sama told her no? And what would Gojo-sama do if your mother caused a scene? You were fairly certain you didn’t want to know.

Eventually, the man seemed to resign himself to the fact that this was not an argument he was willing to have, at least not right that second. “Fine,” he huffed. “They will spend their days here, and evenings at home with you.” He turned his attention to you, then continued. “Do you want to attend academic lessons with Satoru and Geto-kun?”

It rubbed you the wrong way that he didn’t refer to Suguru by his first name, even after the boy had been living in his house for nearly three years, but at the same time you were more than a little glad there was no apparent sense of familiarity between them. “…May I have some time to consider it?” you asked after a moment, hoping he would agree, because really, you didn’t know what you wanted just then. You felt your shoulders sag slightly with relief when he gave you a short nod before returning his attention to your mother.

“Once the bonding period has come to an end and the festival is over, I will see them escorted home to you. Are those terms satisfactory?”

“Festival?” you and your mother parroted together. Nothing had been said to you about a festival, so you were beyond confused.

“Yes, the festival,” Gojo-sama confirmed. “There has always been an elaborate celebration held when a metallic dragon appears and bonds with a human.”

“But nobody said anything about—” you began, but were swiftly cut off.

“And I apologize for that,” the man said, looking at you once again with his cold blue eyes. “But the whole celebration is non negotiable, I’m afraid. It is going to happen after your bonding period is over. That is final.”

His tone left no room for argument, and you felt your words of protest die in your throat. Tears burned your eyes as you nodded, whispering a small, “Yes, Gojo-sama,” as you dropped your gaze to your lap, where Takara lay curled up and sound asleep. The rest of the conversation between the two adults faded to background noise as you fought not to cry; you knew your mother would fill you in later on anything you missed or didn’t understand. 

When the two of you were finally dismissed, all you felt was relief. You kept your head down as you stood from where you’d been kneeling on the floor and followed your mother out of the room. She stopped once she heard the door shut behind the two of you, turning to face you in an instant and pulling you close, though she was careful not to crush Takara between you.

Unable to hold back any longer, you cried into your mother’s shirt, hiccuping nearly nonsensical statements about how you didn’t want to be the center of attention, didn’t want to be the reason for a festival; about how you wanted to go home and be with her and your father because you missed them.

“I know, baby. I know,” your mother soothed, rubbing your back and resting her cheek atop your head. “It’s all going to be just fine, though, I promise. Everything will be over and you’ll be back home before you even know it.”

“But it feels like so long,” you wept, words muffled by fabric since you didn’t bother to lift your head from her chest. “I feel like I’ve already been here forever.”

“It’s just a few more days though,” she assured you. “And besides, you have your friends here with you to pass the time. You’re going to be alright.”

“Do you promise?” you asked, finally peeking up from her chest. 

“Yes,” she murmured, kissing your forehead. “I promise.”

ok so, while i am in the process of learning japanese currently, i am by no means fluent, so the titles/honorifics that satoru's parents use for each other are based on some research i did! honorifics are confusing so i think i used them correctly, if not please don't skin me. also they are intentionally kind of archaic/ obsolete/overly formal, to fit with the traditions and dynamics of the family and the semi-historical setting of the fic.

taglist: @mitsuristoleme @redlikerozez @oceaneyesinla

@dr-runs-with-scissors @entirelysein-e @witchbybirth @sugurei @peachdues 

@whatthefucksatan @gods-landing @lu-dao-writes @roselleviennesstuff

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[spearmintsmut]

MY OWN MUDBLOOD 5

The tensionnn thank you for the suggestions for this fic, I’m so glad I kept writing it. I hope this smut heals the broken heart last chapter gave you x

Draco hadn’t returned since he left via floo and you were left alone with your reeling mind. Not only was he already difficult to live with on a good day, he was unpredictable too and it was giving you whiplash. You had him in your mouth and a moment after he was done, he was angry again for thoughts that were beyond your control. It isn’t fair, you thought, that he could hear your thoughts AND hold that against you as if you could help it. You decided to open up one of the books your father had picked up for you when you moved to the manor and brush up on some spells to distract yourself. Flipping through the pages, you weren’t sure where to start. You would ask your father for help but since moving in with Narcissa, he paid even less attention to you and asking him for help would feel like talking to a brick wall. You decided to start light with some less intimidating spells and charms, landing on lumos. You pick your wand up reading carefully as you flick your wand, light instantly gleaming from it. Though it seemed like an easy enough spell, you were still pleased with yourself. You turned it off with a spell just as simple and moved on to the next. Accio, a summoning spell. Also seemed simple enough, you thought, reading the small paragraph on it. You set your book down and picked your wand back up. You lifted your hand up nervously as you summoned the book, still unsure of if you were saying it correctly, but it flew to your hand so quickly you almost dropped it. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, having taught yourself two new spells without any help or experience. You already had a good momentum and kept reading. The next chapter was on levitation. You looked around your room for something to levitate but all there was on the floor of your new room was a small pile of clothes. You read the spells closely before you pointed your wand at it with a swish and flick.

“Wingardium Leviosa,” You spoke awkwardly, hoping you said it right - and sure enough, a pair of your lace panties lifted up slowly into the air above the pile. You held your wand up, keeping the panties in the air as you cast your eyes back down to the book to confirm the spell to drop them back down. You read the spell aloud, but as you looked back up at your work, the panties fell into a large pale hand. You almost fell back in shock as your eyes adjusted to the tall blonde in your room.

“Another gift for me huh mudblood? I’ll take it,” he said with a straight face but painfully smug tone. He shoved the panties in the pocket of his perfectly ironed pants.

You didn’t know if you wanted to apologise for the thoughts he heard earlier in the library, or yell at him for listening in the first place. You almost couldn’t enjoy what you’d done in that library. Almost didn’t think about it all afternoon. Almost weren’t hearing his moans in your mind right now. Your mind snapped back to reality like a rubber band as he spoke your name. Your eyes refocused and looked at him, though you couldn’t find your words.

“These piss-easy spells aren’t going to help you if…when..,” he stumbled on his words then stopped. He drew in a slow breath through his teeth, clenching his jaw before he started again. “These spells are useless. Come and get another book off me after Tea. I want you studying spells that will actually protect you in the case of…what ever” he trailed off and you noticed him hold his hand over his covered forearm. You remembered seeing the dark mark on his arm and felt a pang of sympathy at the thought of what he must have had to endure during that time. You quickly pulled yourself out of that thought, worried that he was listening to your thoughts again. You nodded at him in agreement.

“I’m glad you’re learning…something at least,” he offered and his compliment surprised you, though it was still rather patronising. You gave him half a smile but didn’t respond.

You both took a quick step back from each other as you heard the sound of high heels clicking against the marble staircase, but before Draco had the time to leave your room, you saw Narcissa reach your door.

“Oh how nice, you two are finally getting along,” she cheered looking at the two of you. You offered a polite smile and Draco just rolled his eyes.

“How were my favoured slytherin boys, son?” She asked warmly and you wondered who they were. Was they who he was with the last couple of days? Draco having friends, or keeping them, was hard to imagine if he acted the same with anyone else. “Fine,” he shrugged.

“Do bring them to visit again, Draco. You know I haven’t seen them since before…well, you know,” she trailed off, clearly not wanting to finish her thought. “Anyway, Tea will be ready in 5,” she tried to finish cheerfully.

“Sure. If you promise not to fawn over them” he raised a brow at her. She promised him she wouldn’t, though whoever they were, it seemed as though she might anyway.

She turned and descended the stairs gracefully, flowing down in her gold trim dress.

The Malfoy two made you feel underdressed no matter what you wore, you looked down at your white blouse and pleated skirt. You knew you would have to find a new wardrobe soon to at least try and fit in with your new family. The word still tugged at your chest..”family”. You barely knew your step mother, and your step brother had been between your legs barely three days ago. Family was hardly the word for it, though you longed for it nonetheless.

When you swam out of your thoughts and looked up, Draco was studying your face. He didn’t ask any questions, but he stared intently like he were reading a book. You figured he was intruding in your thoughts again and scoffed, pushing past him and down the stairs. Though he hadn’t meant to that time, he had heard what he needed to, as if your thoughts of him flashed in his mind like a snippet of a movie. Though he would never admit to it being unintentional, he enjoyed almost every minute of it. Snape had taught him the art of legilimency in 6th year, and though he became skilled at it quickly, there were still things he didn’t understand, like why he heard or saw thoughts that others had of him without intending to. It had happened when you fantasised about him, which he delighted in listening in to. But it had also happened when he arrived home and found you in the library that morning, leaving him an uncomfortable mixture of rage, and something else. He couldn’t place what it was, but it made him feel warm. He never felt warm. Though he didn’t allow himself to feel regret for the way he reacted that morning, he knew he might, had he been raised differently.

You walked into the luxurious dining hall and sat across from your father and Narcissa, who were already seated next to each other. You were half glad they had taken those seats so you didn’t have to sit front on toward Draco again. That was until he sat beside you and your senses filled with his expensive cologne, and you could just about feel the electricity between your bodies. You were still angry that he had likely read your mind again moments before, but now sharing the room with both of your parents, you faked a smile as you began to eat.

You felt uncomfortable with the silence and decided to fill it yourself.

“I taught myself some spells today,” though you hadn’t meant to brag, you couldn’t help the smile that crept on your face.

“That’s great darling! Did Draco help you?” Your father asked and immediately, your smile dropped. You drew a deep breath in, fighting every fibre of your being not to scream. You tried to open your mouth to correct him, but tears began to prick your eyes first. You took in another shaky breath, embarrassed at how easily he dampened your pride, and tried again to correct him, but you heard Draco’s voice beside you first.

“She said she taught herself.” Your head snapped to him, and he was leaned forward, his lip crinkled into a snarl. You couldn’t quite believe what was happening and though you didn’t want to be spoken for, far less toward your father, you were grateful he did. Had you cried, attempting to stand up for yourself, you didn’t think you could face any of them again. He didn’t look at you, but you mentally thanked him, hoping he would hear you.

Your fathers face was stiff and you were worried his polite facade would slip, but he curtly congratulated you instead.

“That’s great Darling. What did you learn?” Narcissa tried to break the tension with her warm voice.

“I..I” you stuttered, still recovering from the emotion your dad had such a talent for bringing out of you. You felt a warm hand on your knee under the table and it instantly pulled you out of your near tears. Draco’s thumb rubbed over your skin calmingly and though distracting, you were able to continue with a sniff.

“I learned lumos, accio, and levitation,” you smiled.

“She definitely did well with levitation,” Draco said and you could hear the smirk in his tone. Though you knew it was a private dig at you, it did cheer you up some.

His hand lifted off your knee and you felt his finger lightly glide up your naked thigh, drawing soft circles just under the hem of your skirt. It tickled in the best way imaginable, dissipating the hurt and embarrassment you had just felt, taking up that space in your mind with something very different. You felt the cold of his rings on your sensitive inner thigh and were reminded of the same feeling nights before in your bed. He gripped your thigh as you tried to continue speaking, though his hands on you clouded your mind with memories of him kissing them. You felt yourself start to get wet and hoped your panties were enough to keep from leaving a wet patch on the expensive seat. You stole a look at your step-brother sitting beside you and saw his heavenly smirk playing on his lips. Though your parents didn’t seem to notice, you shot him a warning look anyway. He licked his pink lips and they glistened, leaving you near breathless. He spoke to your father about his plans for going back to complete his schooling at Hogwarts after the break as if his hand wasn’t sliding further up your thigh. Your cheeks reddened and you could barely sit still, but you couldn’t find the strength to stop him either. His fingers played with your thigh and you felt him trace a heart right below your panties.

You tried to listen to the conversation at hand but your mind was racing with memories and fantasies, both of him. You involuntarily spread your thighs slightly under the table, giving him the room to trace along the inside of your upper thigh. You were already wrestless, and if he didn’t stop soon, you knew you would lose control. Suddenly, you felt his long finger drag up the crotch of your panties to your clothed clit. He rubbed a slow circle on your clit and the breath caught in your chest. Your eyes almost rolled back from the sudden and direct pleasure to your core.

“I’m done!” you choked out, standing up abruptly. Your legs were shaky and you could feel your soaked panties wetting your inner thighs as you stood. Narcissa looked at you surprised and your father shot you an angry look at your lack of manners, but you knew you couldn’t sit there any longer.

“Th.thank you for dinner,” you corrected before rushing out and up the stairs. You heard Draco excuse himself and follow up the stairs behind you. When you got to the top, you rushed into your room, desperate to relieve yourself, or at least try- but Draco caught the door before it closed.

“What the fuck Draco you prat!” You tried to keep your voice down. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. “You, you can’t do that,” you almost whined.

“I think you liked it just fine, little one,” he purred in your ear. He was right. But god, was it more than a tease. “I did, but,” your voice was breathier than you meant, a slave to the pleasure his voice alone gave you.

“But nothing,” he leaned inches from your face and as his breath fanned over your face you instinctively closed your eyes. His lips crashed against yours and you returned the pressure. His tongue swiped your lip and you parted them without hesitation, fighting each other for dominance before giving in to him. He pressed his body against yours, grinding himself against you before his thigh pushed between your legs, parting them. One of his hands held the wall beside you and the other pushed between your bodies against your chest. He kneaded your breast, flicking your nipple with his thumb. His hand trailed down your torso and you wined your hip, desperate for him to give your clit attention again, now that you were alone.

“What do you want hmm? Use your words like a big girl,” he toyed with you, barely brushing against your stomach.

“Please,” you breathed. “Please touch me,” you begged. “Please Draco,” you couldn’t wait any longer and grabbed his hand, placing it between your legs.

“There you go,” he whispered against your neck before kissing and licking at it. He lifted your skirt and rubbed soft fast circles over your swollen clit.

You felt his hard cock rub against you and he moaned against the sensitive skin below your ear. He pulled your soaked panties to the side and sunk his middle finger into you and you fought not to cry out in pleasure.

“Fuck, tsk tsk, getting this wet at the dinner table,” you blushed at his words. “Who are you this wet for hmm?” He added another finger and pumped in and out.

“Mmm you, Draco. You,” you moaned.

“This wet for your step brother, you are a depraved little thing aren’t you,” he mocked and your eyes rolled back as he curled his fingers inside. He rubbed your clit with his thumb at the same time and you let out a loud moan. He held his other hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.

“That’s it, mudblood. I know you want to cum for me,” he quickened his pace and you looked up at him, breath quickening to pants.

“I’m so close Draco please!” You moaned against his hand.

“Cum for me mudblood,” he leaned down to your level and whispered in your ear and felt yourself come undone, clenching and spasming around his long fingers. You moans fell from you and he covered your mouth again. Your legs shook and twitched and just as they collapsed below you, he caught you and picked you up like you weighed nothing. He carried you to your bed and laid you down. You looked up at him in a daze. He walked out without a word, and came back moments later with a large book in hand. He set it on the desk next to you and stood tall over you. Looking up at him, you wondered if he would make you suck his cock again, but instead, he leaned down and brushed a strand of your hand behind your ear with his pinkie.

“Rest up, mudblood. And in the morning, I want you to study this book. Don’t bother wasting your time with anything else until you’ve learned enough for duelling practice,” he ordered. Duelling practice? The idea worried you. You’d only just learned your first few spells, all of which being small, inconsequential ones for every day. Now he wants you learning defensive magic already? As if he read your mind, and maybe he did, he smiled at you.

“It’s okay, I’ll go easy on you. You need to learn okay?“ his voice was oddly reassuring. Warm? Not quite. But reassuring.

@lail1010

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 34 - Redux

What went before - Tumblr / AO3

Previous chapter

Also if you never saw my short fic Composition which I snuck in between Presence and this one, it’s only 2,700 words in total but as the below references it a fair bit, you might want to have a quick look there.

Anyway, Earth&Sky in the storm time.

Um, second time’s a charm?

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

Have you got a plan?

Scott’s run had lasted just over 135 minutes so far. According to EOS, he had achieved three new personal bests over some of the steeper segments of the Island’s well-worn tracks despite the relentless downfall making his footing treacherous. He laser-focussed on the familiar path ahead, compensating for the slip risk. He wasn’t a fool, well aware that he was likely to fall and turn an ankle or sprain a wrist or something similarly irritating if he didn’t concentrate and he didn’t have time for that. So he concentrated. Because stopping wasn’t an option. He couldn’t even ease up the pace yet. Because if he did, he’d have time to think and… and… no.

He couldn’t let that happen.

He’d let too much happen already today.

He hadn’t even tried.

Scott! Have you got a plan?

Not yet. But I will in a minute…

What if he’d said yes? What if he’d been quicker to think? Was there something he’d missed? Some way through…

Wait, Scott! We need more data. Wait?

If I can just get down there…

Please, Scott, listen?

He spluttered as a gust of wind blew the deluge directly into his face.

Could you listen?

He’d promised he would, so he had.

He had. He’d listened and he’d done nothing and…

Aaaaaaagh.

He growled, shook his head and pushed harder, trying to drown out the memory of his brother’s voice, of all the other desperate voices, with the harshness of his own breathing.

Just… run. Uciec.

Every life he’d failed to save since the very first, clawed at him from the sides of the track. So many of them now. He pressed on, trying not to step on their hands.

Listen!

Wait?

RUN. It was the only plan he had for now.

His pulse thundered in his head as, predictably, the brother he least wanted to see right now joined the trail just ahead of him and jogged easily alongside. The only surprise was that it had taken so long.

Scott pushed his speed up a notch and his quads screamed at him. Good. Focus on that. The rain provided enough white noise that he could almost ignore the sound of the second set of feet pounding along the track.

He counted his own steps under his breath:

Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneight…

His pace slowed a little as the path sloped upwards more steeply, his breath little more than gasping now… nine-ten-eleven-twelve-thirteen. Thirteen. Thirteen families torn apart. He staggered a little and immediately noticed but ignored the hand brushing his elbow. He pushed on.

Fourteen-fifteen-sixteen-thirteen-thirteen-thirteen-thirteen-thirteen…

All those people had believed in International Rescue. Believing for a miracle in blue.

Believing in him.

And he’d stood there… waiting… USELESS… and then it had all come down and it was too late and they were gone.

He hadn’t even TRIED.

“Scott, slow down. Please?”

No.

Can’t.

Uciec…

“Did that already. Didn’t turn out so well.”

“I’m sorry. But can we…”

“I need a minute.”

“You’ve had plenty, Scott it’s been…”

“You know best of course.” He regretted the snarling tone as soon as it emerged but he’d just have to add ‘being a good brother’ to the list of other stuff he’d already failed at today.

And when Scott Tracy started failing he really went to town.

His breath caught painfully in the back of his throat and his eyes blurred in a way he couldn’t blame on the rain streaming down his forehead. All those people. He hadn’t even tried… he hadn’t even…

With a hiss he shook his head and tried to blot it out. Something twinged in his thigh and he weaved slightly as he tried to shake it out. Of course little brother would have seen but he didn’t mention it and Scott ploughed on. The path turned and began to climb the shoulder of the caldera. Thunder grumbled away in the distance but he hadn’t noticed any lightning amongst the deluge.

“You know I was right, Scott!”

“THEY DIED! THEY ALL DIED, VIRGIL! GONE! JUST LIKE THAT!”

“AND YOU WOULD HAVE TOO!”

The unexpected volume finally brought him up short. Virgil didn’t shout…

But Virgil’s expression wasn’t angry. Scott turned away again, unable to process the agony in his brother’s eyes just then.

“Maybe I wouldn’t… there might have been something I could have done.”

“Sometimes there is nothing that can be done, Scott. Even by us. Even by you.” Virgil’s voice was small now. And it shook.

Scott keened quietly and hugged himself in an effort to control the muscle fatigue shivers that were beginning. He slowly shook his head from side to side, as if denial might yet change the outcome.

Virgil’s arms appeared around him and held on tight. The rain continued to slam into the earth around them.

“Sometimes there is nothing that can be done.” He repeated softly.

Scott had already parroted these exact words to the GDF officer who had, as usual, turned up too late to be of any use. His heart hadn’t been in them. Where his heart had been at that very moment was in the clenched fists of the woman he could see over the uniformed shoulder. Whose eyes had pleaded with him to make it untrue. The wife of one of the local first responders who had been trapped in the mine as it collapsed. The raw agony on her face as she hung limply over the linked arms of two friends and howled was too familiar.

A freak avalanche obliterated all in its path. A sabotaged fighter jet exploded on the runway. A prototype spaceship exploded into atoms.

The second solid hour of pushing past his limit wandered over and presented its bill and Scott folded at the knees.

Virgil caught him and held him up, like he always did. Even when Scott was unwilling to admit it was required.

“We can’t save everyone Scott… you know that. Dad always said so.”

“I didn’t even try.“

“You would have if there’d been a chance. So would we all. That’s why we flew all the way there. That matters!”

Scott blinked the sweat-rain-weakness out of his eyes and glared at a rock.

No, not weakness. She always said so.

He kicked at the rock and missed.

He wrestled back control of his limbs and straightened up and but continued to avoid Virgil’s eye which took some doing because his he could feel his brother eyeballing him as determinedly as the amply muscled arms were holding his torso hostage. Scott pretended to himself that this was why he was struggling to catch a breath. The rainfall increased in intensity and the sound of it filled his ears with fuzz.

“One of the wives… she just looked at me and I… I had nothing. Nothing to say to her. Nothing.” His thoughts sped away from his control even as his brother restrained his body from chasing them. “But what could I say? We’re supposed to stop it happening! I’m supposed to try… Can… can you even imagine…” he dragged in a breath and tried to stop his head swimming as the nausea rose “… how they feel when we fail? To know the person who made their life make sense… who they exist for, is gone? Just like that?”

“I don’t have to imagine.”

Virgil’s voice was quiet and flat, but cut through the air like a scythe.

Scott‘s racing mind ran smack into a wall. The chill of the rain was nothing compared to the ice that suddenly crystallised in every vein.

He swore, silently - he had no breath left to make a sound.

How could he have forgotten?

Already?

It hadn’t even been two months since he’d held his tormented and terrified brother in his arms and sworn he’d do anything. The reason he’d stopped today, for the promise he’d made was the knowledge of what he’d driven Virgil to. And yet somehow as soon as the path between he and the trapped ones had disappeared, the guilt had driven it from his mind. He’d lost his way. Again.

The thunder rolled more insistently. This time the flash was bright enough to penetrate his scrunched up eyelids.

Even if he had the breath he didn’t yet have the words. So he dragged an arm out of Virgil’s vice grip and hugged him hard. Virgil sagged into the embrace and Scott shifted the angle of one leg such that he was better able to support his larger brother’s weight. He had nothing left for anything more. The fury was gone, leaving only a gaping chasm where the pent up energy had been.

Scott’s breath deepened and slowed as they stood there, propping each other up. Even here, even like this, his brother’s presence was soothing. Grounding. It always was. It was why Scott had been avoiding him… he hadn’t felt he’d earned that comfort today.

The storm was right on top of them now, the roaring and the flashing almost synchronous. The palm trees creaked and groaned, the rain slammed into their skulls and gushed down the rocky track. The sea howled and tore itself apart on the shore.

And yet all Scott could hear was Mom’s song. Not with his ears, he heard it in his bones as Virgil hummed quietly into his chest. Suddenly he was in the deepest pit again, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to hold on to anything but his brother’s voice calling him home.

Only this time, he could answer.

And so Scott sung her lullaby to his little brother as the storm raged its way over their island and out across the Pacific:

You’ll soar through the sky

Or sail on the sea

And when you get home

That’s where I shall be

Go find your adventures

So fearless and free

I’ll wait for you always

As proud as can be

And if there is darkness

No hope you can see

My heart holds you safely

You’ll always have me

At the last line Virgil was gripping him so hard Scott could feel the skin bruising under his brother’s fingers.

“I am such a fool, Virg… I don’t deserve you.”

Virgil huffed a sigh.

“I’m sorry.”

“S’ok.”

“It’s not.”

“Was never gonna be easy. Thank you for stopping.”

“Thank you for asking me to.”

Virgil looked up at him, doing an impressive impression of a half-drowned puppy. But for once Scott’s heart didn’t melt at the sight of an adorable younger brother.

Instead it clenched with dread. Pale, heavily shadowed and his eyes dilated to almost black in the fast-fading light, Virgil seemed almost wraith-like.

This had to stop. He couldn’t keep doing this to them. He could see it so clearly now. The empty space in his chest where the hurt and the guilt and the rage and the despair and the fear had resided began to fill with a steely glow of determination:

He would burn the world to protect his family.

He’d do it without a second thought.

So why was he risking hurting them every time he tried to save it?

He kissed Virgil on the forehead then stepped out of the embrace to take his brother’s shoulders in his hands. Blue met brown and held them steady.

“I will get better at this. I promise. I… I don’t want to leave you guys. I swear it, Virg, please believe me. I never have. The only reason I didn’t give up and die back… back then was because I needed to get home to you. Because you called me home. I knew you were waiting for me. That hasn’t changed. It has never changed, not for a second.”

“Then… why?”

“I don’t knooow.” The bewildered schoolboy inside Scott betrayed his presence with a faint whine. “I don’t mean… It’s not… It’s just…” He took a shaky breath. “It’s hard for me to choose NOT to act. It’s hard to not TRY. It feels… I… I think I’m scared of the what if? What if I had done more… pushed a little harder and… it had turned out better? It’s hard to see the line where it isn’t worth the cost to try.”

“You can see it well enough when one of our lives are in the balance.”

“True… True. I guess because its the opposite? I’ve spent all my life worrying about how I can protect you all, so I have to restrain myself from stopping you going out there in the first place and… yes I know, I know…” Virgil’s single raised eyebrow said it all. “I’m the world’s biggest hypocrite.”

Scott sighed. Then shivered. His leg muscles sent a polite three-second warning.

“Could we sit down? I might have, um, overdone it a touch.”

“Who could possibly have predicted that?” There was a welcome undertone of humour in Virgil’s snort.

They landed inelegantly but side by side in the mud. Scott took his hand again and they rested a while, their clothes steaming gently in the warmer evening breeze that had pushed the storm ahead of it. A sprinkling of early stars peered through a gap in the diminishing cloud cover.

“I can see the line for you so I can learn to see it when it’s mine too. I’m going to keep listening, ok? Until you don’t need to tell me anymore.”

“Thank you.”

“But…”

Virgil stiffened.

“I need you to do something else for me too.”

“Anything.”

Scott considered his words carefully. He didn’t want to make the same mistake he had ten years prior and shackle his brother with an impossible vow.

“I need you to change your mission.”

“I don’t know what you mean?”

“The task you gave yourself when you were small… to show me that… that I’m worth more than I thought. You have Virg, you always have been doing that but now I see things more clearly… well… I have to take that one on myself.”

Virgil’s hand shifted in his as the younger brother sat up straighter, Scott could sense rather than see the shoulders being squared.

“That makes sense. I can’t be your self-esteem for you. But I will make damn sure you keep making progress on it. Weekly mission status updates, minimum!”

Scott laughed quietly at the grin in his brother’s voice. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. And you have your own now too.”

“And what is that, Oh Great Commander?”

“If I’ve let Dad’s shadow shape me too much, you’ve let my… issues… shape you. I need you to find yourself again.”

Virgil tensed as if he was going to speak but no words came. Scott pressed on:

“You are so very much more than my keeper, Virg, but I’m worried you’ve pushed a lot of yourself to the side for me and I didn’t even see it happening. If I give you a break from being Scott’s 24/7 bodyguard and cheerleader, can you use it to give Virgil time to shine instead? I’d really love to see what might happen if you did.”

It was too dark to see his brother’s face but the happy relief in Virgil’s voice was light enough for both of them:

“I’ll see what I can do.”

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

Your honour, I finally fixed them.

3 more (shorter!) chapters to go by way of epilogue because I promised fluff and bunny ears and they will definitely happen. After all this progress I think they’ve earned it.

Oh and here’s the beautiful art by @lenle-g showing our boys in the rain 💚💙😍

Next chapter

[suburbonlegends]

I'm redoing an entire chapter of my "Grab My Hand and Don't Ever Drop It" fic so here's the original draft lol. It's basically it's own ficlet, where Peter rescues Neal after Neal goes missing. About 800 words.

It was just out of practicality that Peter kept being in situations where he needed to hold Neal Caffrey’s hands. The third time hardly even counted as holding.

It started when his heart fell through his stomach when Mozzie called him one night. “Neal is with you, right?”

“No? He left work around six, I haven’t seen or heard from him since.” It was now going on eleven, Peter had just been finishing up going over the paperwork for the undercover mission they’d done that day. A lawyer had come in accusing the bosses at her attorney’s office of money laundering, and Neal had been sent undercover as her new assistant to do some poking around, track down the trail.

“I just came over, a long day of- nothing actually, but he’s not here. June says he hasn’t come home yet. She also thought he was with you.”

“Damnit. Damnit.” Peter hung up the phone without another word and dialed Diana as he pulled up Neal’s tracking anklet. “Listen Diana, something’s gone wrong for Neal. I’m pulling his tracking data up now, since we didn���t get a call from the marshal’s he must still be inside his radius. I want you to call for backup and send them to this address.” Thank god he put Neal’s tracker back on him when they’d debriefed after the work day. Peter had almost let him go home without it, just in case, but he’d thought there would be less risk in Neal wearing it than not. He thought the lawyers weren’t going to ask him to meet up in the middle of the night, but other people might jump on the opportunity to talk while Neal was off his radius, so keeping tabs on Neal off the clock was supposed to be an overly cautious risk.

Peter was right in one aspect. Neal wasn’t asked.

Peter and his back up found Neal in an abandoned warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen, because of course that’s where it was. The two managing partners for the law office had him gagged and held at gunpoint, watching as Neal made the dye for their printing press and fed it through the machine. The bastards stood there in coats, gloves, and hats while Neal worked in only his suit in the late January cold.

“I knew y-you’d check my t-tracker eventually.” Neal’s teeth chattered as he spoke once Peter pulled the gag from his mouth. “Was j-just killing t-time unt-til then.”

“Mozzie called, told me you weren’t home, that’s when I checked.” Peter said, untying the knotted cloth. “Would’ve been another hour or two before I checked on my way to bed.”

“Always burning the m-midnight oil. Speaking of, I’m r-r-really cold.”

Peter unzipped his coat and wrapped it around Neal’s shoulders before ushering him to his car outside. He cranked the heat on high, pointing the vents at Neal, then taking one of Neal’s shaking hands in his own to hold it up to the heater while also examining it.

Neal hissed at first, instinctively trying to pull his hand away, but Peter held firm to it, rubbing his palm over the back. “Need to warm them up before you get fucking frostbite.”

“Not gonna get frostbi-bite.” Neal argued, shifting in his seat. “Wool suit at least k-kept me from getting hy-hypothermia. Just f-fucking cold.”

“Being fucking cold is the first step to both frostbite and hypothermia.” Peter kept rubbing Neal’s hand between his own, then grabbed the other and repeated the process. “Maybe I should take you to the ER, get you checked out.”

“No. Peter I’m f-fine. Just-just give me ten m-minutes to warm up.”

So, Peter did just that, watching the car clock closely as he switched from rubbing Neal’s left hand to his right and back again. Slowly but surely, Neal’s teeth stopped, he stopped shivering, and his hands went from painfully white to slowly regaining their pink. By the time the ten minutes were up, Peter was satisfied that Neal wasn’t in immediate danger, but like hell he was going to let him out of his sight.

“Call Mozzie, tell him you’re staying at El and mine’s place tonight. You need somewhere warm.”

“June’s is warm Peter,” Neal said, but soft and laced with exhaustion. “I have a bed with blankets and everything.”

“You have fucking grandiose antique windows that I know keep that room ten degrees colder than whatever the thermostat is set to.” Peter gave one last squeeze to Neal’s left hand before letting it go. “I’ll call Elizabeth while you call Mozzie to let him know you're okay. She’ll have soup ready for you. She even has some fresh sourdough from the bakery.”

Neal watched him hesitantly, eyeing Peter over, before softly, “Can you ask her to toast the bread?”

[captainremmington-13]

Prologue for my new TBOSAS OC fic

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova.

SUMMARY: A young, innocent Coriolanus Snow meets his match.

“Hey!” 

Seven-year-old Coriolanus Snow stood at the foot of the playground slide, scowling up at a girl dressed in a black-and-white fur coat. “I wanted to be the king of this tower!” 

The girl gave him a nonchalant smile, leaning against the railing of the second floor of the play structure. “You should’ve gotten here faster then. This is my tower. If you’d like, you can be my sidekick. But I’m in charge. Deal?”

Coriolanus marched up the steps to reach the level she was perched on, still frowning. “That’s not fair,” he said. “You can’t just take over my space.”

She shrugged. “Too bad, I already have. Now, I’ll have to ask you to go away. I can’t have anyone disturbing the peaceful nature of my tower.” 

Coriolanus stomped his foot, his patience long gone. “Who do you think you are, some kind of princess?” 

She didn’t answer. “Please get off my structure. Now.”

He crossed his arms. “Make me.”

With a swift move of the girl’s little arms, Coriolanus found himself falling backwards down the stairs, landing on his back painfully. 

He immediately began to wail, calling for his cousin. Tigris ran over quickly, crouching over him worriedly and asking what happened. 

Coriolanus pointed at the girl, who was staring down at him from the platform. “S-She pushed me!”

She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t have if you had listened to my warning.” 

Tigris looked at her, trying to remain calm and collected. “Have your parents ever taught you that hurting people isn’t very kind?” 

The little girl nodded. “Yes. But they also told me I should stand my ground.” 

Tigris sighed, brushing Coriolanus’s tears away gently with her thumb. “Come on, Coryo. It’s time to go home.” 

Coriolanus sniffled and slowly stood up, holding Tigris’s hand tightly. He looked back at the girl one last time, who hadn’t moved from her position on top of the platform. She waved at him almost mockingly, but gave him a small smile. 

Coriolanus glanced up at Tigris. “She was mean. I don’t like her.” 

His cousin squeezed his hand reassuringly. “She’ll learn when gets older. She’ll learn to treat people with kindness and patience, which are very important. More important than who rules over the playground.” 

As the two young Snows walked over to their family, Coriolanus thought about the triumphant smile that the girl had given him after shoving him. He gritted his half grown-in, half-missing teeth. 

‘One day, I’ll be able to do what she did to me. I’ll take her place as the mighty ruler of the land,’ he thought. 

That was the first time that Coriolanus Snow met his future wife and First Lady, Bellova Reginelle. Neither of them knew what fate has in store for them, or what the pain and suffering would mold them to be. 

………………………………………………………………………………

Author’s Note: This is my first time ever posting my writing on Tumblr. Please let me know what you think in the comments! I have a few chapters done so far, but wanted to wait to see if the prologue was well received :))

thank you to @euphemiaamillais for reading my work and encouraging me to publish it! also thank you to @coryosmin for letting me discuss my ideas and sharing my pinterest boards via dm lolll

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

It’s high time I’ve done another rec post, so here I am, coming in hot with six WIPs you should be reading right now.

Before I get into the fics themselves, a word about reading WIPs. Look, I know it’s tempting to wait until a fic is complete. Not to mention the fact that there is an absolutely staggering amount of amazing fics out there. I’m a slow reader myself, and my TBR list, even after reading fics for nearly three years, is so damn long. I could easily sit back and only read older completed fics and probably never finish them all.

But. I love a good WIP fic almost like nothing else. Yes, binging a completed fic in one sitting can leave you flying high. But following a fic as it’s being written, interacting with said fic and cheering that writer on, gives me so much gratification. Getting that email notification for a new chapter, and feeling so eager to read the new update, is an absolute joy. I highly recommend.

Lastly, this is not an exhaustive list of current Carry On WIPs, but merely a small sampling. And if anyone has any good WIP recs for me, I’d love to hear them!

Only Creatures, WIP, currently 52k, rated E by @emeryhall

In this canon divergent story, Simon breaks up with Baz at the end of WS, leading Baz to become a recluse and a poet, growing a beard and hiding out in Scotland. When he finds out Simon is a camboy for a website called Only Creatures, they tentatively start wanking chatting again. Come for Baz’s Unabomber style, stay for the second chances and explorations of intimacy.

Everything Emery writes is amazing, and this fic is no exception. It’s a little absurd, incredibly witty and heartfelt, with a cast of OCs that quietly shine. This story has cracked my heart open and is slowly putting it back together. You won’t regret reading this one.

Hiding Out in the Open, WIP, currently 48k, rated M by @cutestkilla

Another canon divergence story, this time where Simon and Baz never got together after their truce in 8th year. After the SSR debacle, they meet again and this time start connecting over a shared interest in a psychology podcast.

This fic does an excellent job of having these boys dig into their trauma and issues via the podcast topics, letting them heal and connect, while also letting the reader marvel at the heavy Snowbaz vibes of every podcast episode. It’s so smart, I’m telling you.

I Knew A Boy, I Knew A Man, WIP, currently 83k, rated T by @shrekgogurt

This football AU has Baz and Simon ending up on the same premiere league team, years after playing together at school. The author gives us flashbacks in every chapter of their frought relationship as teens, before progressing the story in the present.

I can’t believe I haven’t done an official rec post for this fic yet. Mary writes the sports bits of this story so vividly, and the flashback bookends of each chapter so perfectly tie into the current narrative, you’ll marvel at the complex way it moves the story forward. Seriously, one of my all time faves.

Basil Pitch’s Diary, WIP, currently 32k, rated T by @bookish-bogwitch

Watford-era Baz starts a diary on January 1st, determined to record his progress on various resolutions, namely, getting over Simon Snow.

This fic has the incredible humor of Bridget Jones’s Diary and will introduce you to your favorite version of acerbic, self-depricating teenage Baz. He will own your soul. There is no other outcome of reading this fic.

The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch, WIP, currently 25k, rated M by @monbons

This story watches a three hundred year old Baz, cursed after desperately trying to find a way to be loved on his own terms, wandering aimlessly in present times until he finds a certain blue eyed barista who has an unusual reaction to meeting him.

This AU is based on The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, but you don’t have to have read the book to become immersed in this achingly sad but thoroughly sweet story of hope and second chances.

Episode 6: Apres la Pluie, le Beau Temps, WIP, currently 10k, rated M by @artsyunderstudy

Another installment in the Star Trek series for the lovely @raenestee, this series is the epitome of following a good WIP story. Several authors have contributed to this sci-fi beast, and the progression of the story through several different writers’ hands is an absolute delight to watch. (And, as one of the authors, to participate in.)

If you aren’t yet reading it, this is a great time to join. We’re right in the middle of the story, leaving the four couples in Ashton’s very capable hands as she expertly guides them through various communication breakdowns. If you know nothing of Star Trek, don’t let that stop you from joining a thoroughly entertaining epic of a story.

[waterless-witch]

Of knights and Demons

Chapter 3

TW: Rape/Non-con, Dark themes, forced marriages, threatening behavior violence and swearing. MINORS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU

This is my first ever fic so please be nice to me, I’ve also got it posted on A03 under the same name in case anybody would like to read it there.

EDIT: this chapter contains non-con smut and I’ve never written either of those so if it’s terrible I’m sorry

Previous Chapter

You are the sole daughter of Byakuya Kuchiki, the sole heir to a noble family. Your father has broken from tradition with his refusal to marry you off against your wishes, instead wishing for you to find a husband of your own choosing. After years of arguing with not only your own family, but the other lords of your court all seems well. That is until a once thought dead knight returns with an army to take your home.

Souske Aizen, a man you once found kindness in has demanded that the two of you are to be wed, with your father still missing along with most of the guards you’re left with few options but to comply and hope that aid comes before anything can be set. How will you stop a man like Aizen from destroying your home and the people you care about? And who are these strange people with bone masks on their face?

You’d been taken back to the manor with your new husband to partake in your wedding celebration. For hours now you watched people laugh and dance, feast and drink without a care in the world. It made you sick. Aizen, for his part, played the doting husband well. He kept his arm draped casually over your hip, thumb rubbing what were supposed to be soothing circles into your skin. In the small breaks you’d get in between people coming to congratulate you two he would ask if you needed anything, you’d politely decline each time. You couldn’t even count how many times he’d bent down to give your forehead a small kiss. From the outside you were certain you’d looked just like a happy couple.

Eventually Aizen’s associate, Gin, came up to congratulate the two of you. You thanked him politely trying your best not to let your hatred for the whole affair show. After a few more minutes of small talk with the silver haired man he asked if he could borrow your husband to address a private matter. You obliged, happy to have his hands off you, even if it’d just be a few short minutes. Almost immediately after he’d walked away someone approached from the other side of you. You turned to greet them in the same facetious way you had everyone else but stopped.

Before you stood your friend Momo, she wore a fine pastel blue dress with her hair done up in its standard bun. Her family was one of the smaller, lesser known ones of your court but the two of you had been close friends since childhood. Your mother would often invite her to various occasions with you, she came from a large family and was mostly ignored so no one ever seemed to mind. She didn’t smile at you, instead her eyes looked misted like she might cry, “Hi.” She said simply with a touch of sadness to her.

You smiled at her, a genuine one, even though you felt like you might too cry just from looking at her. “Hi.” You answered back, you were so relieved that she didn’t seem to be happy for you, she understood what was happening, pitied you even.

“I’d offer to give you a hug but I don’t think you want to draw that kind of attention.” She joked, giving you a sad smile back. You nodded back to her, “For what it's worth, I’m sorry.” She said in all but a whisper, eyes darting back and forth to make sure no one had heard her. Your eyes misted a bit more as she’d said it and you tried your hardest to hold it all back not wanting to cry here. You’d been numb for so long but something about seeing your friend upset for you brought it all back and made it much more real for you.

You went to answer back but another lord was approaching, she gave you a slight nod before excusing herself. You whipped your eyes quickly hoping that the lord hadn’t noticed. You recognized him, though you couldn’t quite recall his name. He was from one of the smaller families and had all but begged your father to marry you off to his son when you were thirteen. Of course your father had refused. You gave him a sweet smile as he approached and grabbed your hands. “May I just start by saying-“

“Get lost.” Grimmjow interrupted from behind you causing you to whirl around sharply. He didn’t look at you, instead his venomous gaze was fixated on the smaller of the two men. If looks could kill the man would be dead ten times over with how Grimmjow looked at him.

The lord stuttered for a minute, face heating in embarrassment and anger, “Excuse you, I am-“ he started to say. A few people looked but turned away quickly to keep Grimmjow’s attention away from them.

“I said get lost,” Grimmjow growled out, “I won’t ask a third time.” He said taking an intimidating step towards the man. The man's eyes shot between the two of you before he scoft and left, grumbling under his breath the whole way. You turned to face him fully and raised a single brow in question. He shrugged, “Brought you a drink.” He said dryly, nodding to an overly full glass of wine. “For your special day.” He sneered like he was mad at you, you didn’t care if he was, you were already mad at the world why not add him to the list as well.

You crossed your arms in front of you, “I don’t drink.” You bit back just as dry. Lots of people drank at weddings and if you had been in a happier situation perhaps you would have too but today you didn’t feel like it. You were not a drinker under normal circumstances and certainly didn’t want to take anything from the strange man in front of you.

“Congrats, you do today.” He answered back to you with irritation heavy in his tone. You had no idea why he wanted you to drink so bad but it made you trust him all the less. You looked at him with a sideways gaze.

You shook your head, “Why is it so important to you? Or is it just another game to you? See what you can get me to do by being pushy? Make some entertainment for yourself?” You said getting annoyed with him.

“No games, I’m trying to be nice to you.” He said before reaching out and grabbing your elbow harshly. He pulled you a bit closer and kept his grip on your arm tight even as you tried to pull away, “Take the wine and get drunk, I’ll bring you more when you're out.” He whispered harshly in your ear, his body bent over yours, “I can guarantee you're not gonna want to be sober when your dear sweet husband holds you down and shoves his cock in you.” He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. He was right, as much as you hated to admit it and as vulgar as he’d said it he was right. Your eyes again watered, not wanting to have to go through with it, you knew you’d have to but that didn’t stop you from feeling sorry for yourself. “Don’t cry here,” he said as he straightened back out. “Don’t give them all the chance to see you break. Cry tonight as he fucks you, or alone in the morning or anywhere else but do not give all these bastards a chance to see it, they don’t deserve it.” He said angrily. You nodded, you didn’t know why he was doing what he was but you were thankful for it still.

You willed your tears back and he offered you the wine again. You took it from him gingerly, fingers brushing over his own as you did.”Thank you.” You said to him more earnestly than you’d ever spoken to him. He could be an ass but at that moment he was showing you something close to kindness.

He kept his gaze fixated on you in what almost looked like confusion for what felt like an eternity before he scoffed, “Don’t thank me princess.” He stood there until you took a drink and nodded his approval before he walked away. True to his word, once you'd finished your glass he quietly brought you another as you talked to the various people who’d come to speak with you. You weren’t too invested in any conversation, too busy thinking over what Grimmjow had said. Of course you’d known that Aizen would have you tonight but now that it’d been said out loud you couldn’t help but worry about it. You’d never been with a man, not even to fool around. Some of the married women had talked about their own wedding nights, and while some of them had pleasant stories, most of them only talked about how much the first time hurt and how rough their husbands had been, the thought alone brought a shiver down your spine.

Grimmjow had brought you a third glass before Aizen returned, looping his arm back around your waist. “Sorry to be away for so long love,” he called you, you didn’t say anything but you despised that pet name more than any other that you’d been called, you were not his love and he was not yours. “Have you been enjoying yourself?” He asked, beginning to rub those damned circles into your hip again. You hummed your agreement and he tsked his tongue, “No you haven’t, you hide it well enough but you're miserable.” You stared up at him not knowing what to say or what he wanted you to say. “Take a walk with me?” He asked, letting that smile that you were growing to hate grace his face again. You agreed not really having a choice in the matter.

He led you through the crowd, you hadn’t realized how much the alcohol had affected you until you began walking, you moved considerably slower with your eyes more focused on where you were going rather than ahead of you. If Aizen noticed your uncordnation he didn’t say anything about it. You found yourself in the gardens as the cold air bit at your skin, not that you cared all that much, feeling a bit of relief compared to the stuffy hall you’d been in for hours. “Would you like to know what I’ve been talking about with the other lords?” He asked.

You thought about your answer for a long moment, he didn’t like it when you lied to him and wanted you to be honest with him but the truth of it was no. You didn’t want to know. He would tell you anyway and maybe his asking was just a taunt. So that’s what you answered with, “Not particularly but I have a feeling you're going to tell me no matter how I answer.” You said with more spitefulness than you intended.

Aizen chuckled, “Well, don’t you just have me figured out?” He joked, you didn’t laugh. “We’ve been talking about you all evening. Most have congratulated me kindly, but more than a few have also expressed that they’d do the same.” He said, you knew he was taunting you, maybe trying to get a rise out of you but you still held his breath as he talked. “One young man in particular, told me that he was impressed by my restraint.” Your brows knit together and he gave another small chuckle, “He said if it had been him he wouldn’t have been able to hold off on taking you,” Your face drained of color and your eyes felt like they would bulge out of your head as he went on. “He informed me that he’d tried desperately for your hand but your father had denied him and you didn’t notice him at all. The poor boy.” He mocked in fake sympathy, “You should see how they all stare at you, where their eyes focus in on when your not looking, if only you knew what dark things they thought of-“

“Why tell me all this?” You cut him off before he could continue, you knew they were all traitors but you didn’t want to think about how many men in there would do the same or worse to you given the chance. You didn’t want to think about a man that was so upset that you’d not wanted to wed him as a child of thirteen that he thought you deserved this.

“I want you to think of it when you despair about your position, when you start to think I’ve been cruel to you.” The two of you stopped walking and he pulled your chin up to look at him, bringing his face close to yours, “Anyone of them would have done the same if not worse.” He whispered so close that you could feel his lips caress your own as he spoke, you were certain that he was about to kiss you again but he never did. Instead he pulled back, “We should get you inside before you freeze out here.” He said letting that sickly sweet smile frame his face again.

Back inside you noticed that a number of people must have left during your stroll, a noticeable number. You could feel your anxiety starting to pick up, he hadn’t mentioned anything about a bedding ceremony but now it was all you could think about and you had no way of being certain. You thought about asking him but decided against it, fearing that he might just do it if he thought you were afraid of it. As you gazed around the room you noticed Grimmjow sitting alone near the back of the tables, his eyes stared into yours for a moment before you were distracted by yet another person coming to talk to the two of you about what a lovely couple you made. The whole time you could all but feel Grimmjow's eyes staring at you which didn’t help settle any of your anxiety. You kept catching his gaze in between chats. He barley moved and you couldn’t help but feel like you were being hunted.

As time stretched on more and more people began to leave, everytime they did that uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach only grew. Eventually Aizen bent down to whisper, “I think its time we take our leave my dear.” Your breath caught and you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything as he gently led you to the hall. Your heart felt like it might beat straight out of your chest with each step you took. He kept his hold on you the whole time. At least, no one followed you out, meaning that there would be no bedding ceremony. At least no one would get to observe the humiliation you’d no doubt receive. “You look relived?” He said voice trailing in question. Your legs felt like they were made of lead and every step you took was a considerable effort.

“I thought that perhaps you’d have opted for a bedding ceremony but…” you let yourself trail off, he just hummed in understanding. You were at the door to your room far faster than you’d have liked. He held the door open for you and you stepped inside making your way to the center of the room, you stopped not knowing what to do with yourself. The door swung shut and you couldn’t help but flinch. You were terrified of the man you’d be sharing a life with, while you’d once thought him kind you’d come to find out he was anything but. He’d killed a whole family to get here plus countless others, he sent people to hunt you down specifically and he’d threaten to take another life if you didn’t do as he said.

A set of arms snaked around your waist causing you to gasp, “Are you nervous sweet girl?” Aizen rasped into your ear. You nodded yes but he just hummed as if he didn’t understand you, “I’m sorry love, I didn’t quite catch that, you’ll have to speak up.” You closed your eyes and you were sure your whole body must be beat red.

He knew you were and he was just trying to get under your skin. “Y-yes.” You said barely audible but he’d heard it nonetheless. He gently pushed the hair from your shoulder and began trailing small kisses from the exposed skin of your shoulder to the base of your neck. You flinched but he held you firmly in place with a hand on your hip, “Have you ever been touched like this?” He asked, his voice had dropped by at least an octave and was laced thick with arousal.

“No.” You gasped out as he nibbled at the space where your neck and shoulder met. Aizen hummed in satisfaction as one of his arms rose to just below your sternum, forcing you back into his own broad chest. He had you trapped up against himself in a hold that you had no way of escaping.

You swallowed thickly as his lips trailed up your neck to your ear, “Never?” He asked, warm breath fanning your ear. “Not even with that fetching young knight with the tattoos that was so keen on escaping with you? He seemed very intent on keeping you away from me.” You squeezed your eyes shut tighter and shook your head lightly. You realized he was talking about Renji, and while he’d help you escape you doubted he felt anything of the sort for you, he’d only helped you because he’d always felt indebted to your father. You could explain all that to him though, not while his mouth was still working against your neck and he held you so close to himself. “Words my sweet girl, I want to hear you.” He rasped intent on flustering you further.

You opened your mouth to say something only to be cut off by a sharp gasp as he pulled your head back to suck a mark into your neck. You tried to escape it but his free hand shot to your hip pulling you back against him tighter than before, stopping you from moving any distance. “No, never!” You all but whined out as his mouth kept working over your skin. You hated whatever game he was playing and you hated how you couldn’t help but react to it.

Aizen pulled back a few inches to admire the mark he’d left before chuckling darkly, “Aren’t you just a dream dear?” He asked before spinning you to face him. He pulled you close and captured your lips as your hands came up to try to put some distance between your bodies yet again. He kissed you with much more force than the previous times, his hand came up to tangle in your hair and pull you closer, his other hand snaked behind your back. He pulled back for you but kept your head firmly in place with his hand, “Open your mouth.” He ordered in a husked voice. You went to question him on what he’d meant but before you could his lips were again pressed to yours. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth and began tangling with your own. You couldn’t stop the whimper that left you, he pressed you closer, seeming to enjoy that he’d pulled any kind of noise from you at all.

The hand pressed to you back slid lower, reaching for the clasp of your metal belt and fumbling with it until it noisily clattered to the floor. You dress hung loosely around you now and bunched up under his hand as me moved it back to your hip. His tongue was still mapping out your mouth, making you feel lightheaded. He pulled away from you and looked you up and down as you panted. His hands moved to your shoulders aiming no doubt to fully remove your dress. Your hands caught his wrists not wanting him to continue, you realized your mistake instantly but couldn’t stop yourself.

Aizen's deep brown eyes shot to yours, he softened his gaze and tsked his tongue, you averted your gaze and let your hands slip off his wrists. “Sweet girl,” He called to you softly, “If you move to stop me again I’ll bring you your little knight's head.” You couldn’t stop the little cry of surprise that left you as tears sprang to your eyes. You looked back up to him as your tears collected in your waterline. “You poor thing,” he said bringing his hand to brush along your cheek, “You really don’t want this do you?” He asked, whipping at a tear as it fell down your face.

You knew he was just taunting you, you knew he wasn’t going to stop but you still shook your head in denial. Surprisingly he didn’t make you say it out loud, he just hummed sympathetically, looking at you with a tilted head. “How unfortunate.” He said before moving his hands back to your dress. He carefully pulled the fabric from you, letting it fall to the floor in a heap and leaving you in just your heels and undergarments. You turned your head to the side, unable to look at him any longer as his eyes raked over you, he hummed in appreciation taking in your lace strapless bralette and matching underwear that you’d been made to wear. The lace hid nothing from him, thin and see through with the same flowers and vines that had adorned your dress. A few more tears slipped from your eyes as he began walking you backwards towards the bed. Once the backs of your legs hit the bed he gently pushed you so the you were sitting on the edge of it, he tilted your head up to look at him.

He bent over you fully and kissed you again, this time as he ravaged your mouth it tasted of salt from your tear streaked face. His hand ghosted down your body to your thigh, he gave your thigh a light squeeze before sliding his hand further down to push your shoe off before repeating the motion with the other leg. He let his hand run lazily up and down your leg as he continued kissing you, everytime his hand would work up your thighs your muscles would flutter and heat began pooling in your lower stomach much to your displeasure. You hated that your body was reacting to him wanting desperately for it to stop.

Aizen released your mouth, straightening up to his full height, “Move to the center of the bed.” He nodded watching you move all the while. Once centered in the bed you pulled your legs together keeping them pressed firmly against one another. Aizen began removing his shirt button by button revealing his well muscled arms and chiseled chest. He removed his belt next, placing the sword attached to it gently on the dresser before stalking back to you. You couldn’t help but think that perhaps if he’d never left, if he’d never done any of the atrocious things he’d done, that you might have ended up here anyways. You couldn’t deny that he was handsome and even though you now knew his attention went much deeper he’d always made time for you before. He’d seemed sweet and caring. But now that you knew everything, what he was capable of, there would be no looking back, you couldn’t look past it. You would never forgive him for all that he’d done to the high lord's family and the common people, they had been innocent and he’d slain them for his own selfish interest. You thought of the girl you’d seen the first night, she’d bear that scar forever for simply doing her duties that day.

Aizen crawled over you, pulling you from you from your thoughts and pushing your back into the mattress as leaned into you. He pulled your legs straight and you kept them firmly pressed together as he again mouthed at your neck. You closed your eyes as he sucked more marks into your skin, his mouth trailed down your neck and to your collarbone where he nibbled at the bone. You gasped, causing him to chuckle as he let his hand run across your stomach, his fingers thumbed at the bottom of your bralette. You tried to focus on your breathing as he let his hand glide over your breast, you let out a breathy sigh and turned your head away from his as his thumb circled your clothed nipple. Aizen rose up on his elbow as he continued his ministrations, “You look absolutely sinful like this.” He stated. You fisted your hand in the blankets beneath you. He switched his attention to your other breast making you swallow a cut off moan which caused him to chuckle again. “I want to hear you, love.” He breathed into your ear, you bit down on the inside of your cheek not wanting to give him the satisfaction. You might not be able to stop him from doing what he wanted with you but you could try to at least control the noises you made. Or so you thought.

After a minute or so of you refusing to make any noise he dropped his head back to your neck and sunk his teeth into your pulse point. You shrieked, eyes shooting open and tears following in earnest as your back arched off the bed trying to get him to let go, his hand moved from your chest to your arched back and unclasped your bralette, throwing it behind him. He released your neck and soothed over the wound with his tongue as he settled you back on the mattress. Your neck throbbed and you felt a drop of blood run down your neck before he leaned back over to licked it up and place a quick peck to your throbbing skin. Aizen’s mouth trailed from your pulse point down to your breast, he looked up to you as you panted breathlessly trying to pull yourself together before flicking your nipple with his tongue, you couldn’t stifle the moan that slipped out of you which only spurred him on. He took your nipple into his mouth fully, lavishing his tongue over the sensitive nub and occasionally nipping gently with his teeth to watch your reactions. He pulled off with a pop before switching his attention to your other nipple and teasing the one he’d had in his mouth between his fingers. Catching your breath was an impossible task, your heartbeat was so fast you thought it might burst and your core ached between your locked thighs.

He again let you go with a pop, “You’re so much more reactive than I could have hoped for, I can’t wait to see what more you’ll show me sweet girl.” He rasped, rising to his knees and running his hands up your legs. “I understand you’ve never been touched by another man, but tell me love, have you at least touched yourself? Brought yourself to release on your fingers perhaps?” You gawked at his question, truthfully you had tried a few times but never could bring yourself anywhere near pleasurable, but you certainly didn’t want him to know that. “Well, love?” He asked again when you didn’t answer.

You knew he wasn’t going to let you get away with not answering and you were sure you didn’t want him to bite you again or something else equally as painful. You took in a shaky breath before saying, “I’ve tried but never been able to…” you trailed off not wanting to finish your sentence in embarrassment.

His hands made their way back up your legs before hooking in the sides of your underwear, “You poor sweet thing, I’ll have to remedy that.” He gently pulled them down, they caught on your knees for a second but you separated your legs just enough for him to toss them behind him to join the rest of your clothing. You were now completely nude for him, “Spread your legs for me love.” He didn’t give you a chance to comply as his large hands pulled your knees apart. He looked at you with lidded eyes causing you to look away before he brought his hand to ghost over your folds, he groaned at the wetness he found between your legs. “For a girl that insists she doesn't want this, you certainly are wet my dear.” His thumb begins rubbing tight circles against your clit causing your toes to curl and small breathy gasps to find their way out of your mouth.

It feels like there’s a knot being pulled tighter and tighter in your lower abdomen, your sounds rise in volume and Aizen moves the hand not occupied to grab your face and force you to look at him, “Look at me while you cum.” He growled lowly, thumb increasing in speed and pressure. It feels like you're going to snap apart and you look up at him through glassy eyes. His gaze is intense as your end draws closer and you can’t help but buck your hips against his hand. All at once the knot inside you snaps and you coming with a whiny moan as your back arches and stars dot your vision. You’ve never felt anything like it and you can’t help but shutter through the aftershocks.

His hand doesn’t stop moving, instead slowing to a lazy pace that has you trying to escape from overstimulation, his hand grabs your hip and pins you back down. “Please! It’s too much, I can’t take it!” You cry out, body on fire. After a few more strokes his hand stops and he swoops down to dominate you with another kiss. You're so overwhelmed by your previous orgasm that you just let him do as he pleases.

The two of you separate and he watches your face for a moment before pulling back fully, “Now that was a sight, perhaps I should have had a bedding ceremony, show all those stuck up lordlings what they’ve missed out on.” He mocks as he rises from the bed to kick his pants and underwear off. You’ve never seen a nude man before but you're sure that his cock is bigger than most. It’s long and thick with a few veins jutting up it and you can’t help but stare with wide eyes. There’s no way you’re ever going to get it inside of you, at least not without pain.

You don’t even notice that he’s watching you until he laughs, making your eyes shoot to his face as your own face heats more in embarrassment. “Don’t worry sweet girl, I’ll have you well prepared.” He said as he makes his way back to you. You don’t quite believe him but there’s not much you can do as he climbs back on top of you, he spreads your legs on either side of his own. You swallow thickly as he again mouths at your neck and his hand returns to your slick folds. His middle finger circles you opening and you feel your anxiety pick up, his hand is a lot bigger than your own and even then you’d never done much with your own fingers. He gets his finger nice and wet before he starts to push it inside you.

Instantly your gummy walls clamp down on it, the stretch isn’t pleasant and it stings a bit. Your breathing picks up and his thumb resumes its slow circles on your clit in an attempt to force you to relax. He gets the digit into the last knuckle and stills its movement as his thumb continues. He licks up your neck to nibble on your ear, “That’s it sweet girl, just like that. Relax and take it.” He rasps as he gently pulls his finger back and forth within you. You whine at the strange feeling and he latches back onto your neck. After letting you adjust to his first finger he pushes in a second one. You try to pull away and groan because it burns, his thumb and fingers move at a steady pace and you can’t help but clench around them trying to get him to stop for a moment.

He groans in your ear, “Fuck,” he curses, “You’re so tight love.” More tears slip from your eyes as he continues his movements. You wish he’d stop talking but of course he doesn’t. “You have to relax for me love.” He breathes into your neck. “How can you ever hope to take my cock if you can’t take two fingers?” He laughs. You want to scream at him that you don’t want to take his cock and you want to push him and beg him to stop but you know it won’t do you any good. You try to focus on your breathing again but he starts hooking his fingers and they brush against something inside you that has you letting out another high pitched whine. He smiles at you and continues thrusting his fingers into you, taking care to hit that spot inside you with every stroke. You’re withering underneath him as he adds a third, it still hurts but he keeps hitting that spot over and over again causing you to lose yourself.

Your walls tighten again as that knot builds back up. Aizen speeds up his moments, “Again?” He asks, “Already that close? Just from my fingers?” He rumbles. Your fists are so tangled in the blankets you fear they might tear apart. Between his fingers hitting that sweet spot inside of you and his thumb rubbing those circles into your clit you're coming within seconds of him whispering. You whimper as he pulls his fingers from you, you watch as he brings them to his mouth before licking them clean. “What a delicacy.” He says eyes meeting your tired ones, “Maybe if you’re a good girl for me I’ll feast on you next time.” He offers as he aligns himself with you.

He pulls you further down the bed, hair fanning out behind you and legs coming to rest across his knees. He moves his hips, grinding his cock to you, using your slick to get himself ready to enter you. Once he deems himself lubricated enough he lines his cock up with your hole. You feel the tip begin to push into you and you expect him to go slow like he had with his fingers but he doesn’t instead he snaps his hips to yours and fills you in one fluid motion. You scream, pain filling you immediately as you try to scoot away. He pulls you back down refusing to let you escape.

He wastes no time before picking up a punishing pace that makes you sob underneath him. You feel like you can’t breathe and you move to try and push him away, clawing at him with your nails but he just grabs your wrist and pins it to the bed above your head. He folds over you and uses his free hand to push one of your legs up near your head, folding you in half. “Gods!” He moans, “You’re such a tight fit!” He smiles darkly at you before picking up speed. You can’t think straight but you know that you're begging him to stop in broken cries which only seems to turn him on more. “You’re taking me beautifully love, like you were made for it.” He groans. The only sounds filling the room are the sound of skin hitting skin, your cries and his groans.

His thrusts eventually start loosing rhythm and he grunts a few times, “Fuck, I’m close,” he moans out still rapidly snapping his hips into yours. He releases his hold on your wrist and leg and brings both of his hands to your hips to pull you back into him as he thrusts into you, he’s gripping you so hard you're sure to have bruises. He moans your name before trusting as deep as he can and stilling, you feel his seed fill you up and he gives a few shallow thrusts before pulling out completely. Your breathing is shaky and you're still crying as he watches his cum drip out of you. He collects what’s leaked from you before fucking it back into you with his finger. You gasp and close your legs which makes him chuckle as he pulls away from you. “Just making sure nothing goes to waste love.” He says looking down at you.

All you can think is that you hate him. You hate him for what he’s done to your people but as you lay there broken, used and crying all you can think of is how you hate him for what he’s done to you. How he turned your body completely against you. How he’d threatened you. How he’d used you. You look at him through glassy eyes and say, “You’re a bastard.” Not caring about the consequences, what more could he take from you now?

He just laughs, watching your chest heave, “Yeah, I am, sweet girl.” He says before pulling you to him, he pulls you and himself up to lay against the pillows and settling the two of you beneath the covers. “Now sleep my love, before I change my mind and decide to take you again.” He says stroking your hair. You’re too tired to put up a fight and wouldn’t want to chance him anyways.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

For your newest make me write. Im in a huge complete supernatural/fantasy like AU mood here recently so my requests are going to be towards that this week. Also both of them are supposed to be 15 emojis apiece so can we pretend they are if they are not? (Kinda sorry about all the zombies…but feel free to sub everything to vampires or another WIP if you want)

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟(Im so ready for the Maddie/Buck reunion and ensuing shenanigans. I think by the time you get to to this that the new chapter *may* be out that goes over that. But im also enjoying other aspects of the story as well. I very rarely read bathena start fics so their relationship developing is exciting for me to see as well).

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸 🩸(Spoilery for those not caught up BUT OMG BUCK WHAT DID YOU DO?!?! I was not ready for that!)

Woohoo 90 total sentences for monster fics!

45 for 🧟 (THANK YOU!!!):

---

 “Just… Be careful.”

Chim thinks he probably should listen to her. But he also knows he likely won’t. 

▪️▪️▪️

If anything, Chim gets worse. And that might be problematic if his feelings were one-sided, but after dinner, it becomes more or less obvious that they are not.

They do dishes together. A chore Chim usually finds tiresome, but now is somehow fun. Christopher and Denny have already begged Maddie, Hen, and Karen to have a sleepover together. Something Chim finds somewhat redundant, seeing as every day forever is a sleepover here. But Chris wants to sleep in Denny’s room. 

“Please,” Karen had insisted when Maddie had asked if they were sure it was okay. “He finally gets to have friends his own age. Chris can have as many sleepovers as he wants.”

So Maddie is off kid duty tonight. 

“Other than movie night,” she asks as they’re finishing up with dishes. “What is there to do around here in the evenings?”

“You got something against movie night?” Chim teases.

“No!” Maddie insists. “Just exploring my options.”

“Well, there are games,” Chim says. But then he has another thought. “Or the roof.”

“The roof?” Maddie asks. 

“Yeah. We’ve got chairs up there. We can steal your brother’s stereo. It’s great for looking at the stars. Now that the light pollution is gone.” 

Chim wonders if this is too weird. Too forward. Too intimate. Too much like a date, if the world was normal enough to afford dates. Actually, scratch that. He knows Hen has set up a date for Karen up there, under the stars. On their wedding anniversary. God, what is he doing?

“That sounds really nice,” Maddie says. “Would you… Would you want to do that with me?”

God, obviously.

“I’d like that, yeah.”

---

45 for 🩸 (Buck's gonna Buck!)

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“Neither am I,” Eddie says. “Okay?”

Buck nods, still a little weepy. 

“Okay.”

💧💧💧

As tired as he is, Buck can’t really sleep for very long periods. A wound to his front and a wound to his back means nothing is comfortable. Eddie helps set him up on an assortment of pillows to prop him in just the right position, but it’s still a more or less futile effort. He manages to get a little bit of rest when his pain medication sets in, but otherwise, he’s awake and uncomfortable. 

Brought down to reality by his conversation, Buck really gets a chance to think through what he’d nearly done. Not the killing part - which he’d been more focused on before - but the dying part. And the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks about just how right Eddie was. He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want their life together to be over just as it finally started.

He really let that compulsive need to fix everything almost get him killed. Maddie was right. He needs to deal with this properly. This pit of dread that lives in his chest that says he is going to lose everything horribly. That says life will never be safe again. He needs to address that head on, and not by trying to be one step ahead of every possible danger. He needs to go back to therapy. He will, he decides. The minute he’s physically up to it.

“I’m sorry,” Buck says again, later that night, when everyone is sleeping and Buck is laying awake beside Eddie. He knows he’s probably going to be saying it for a long time. 

Eddie blinks awake. “Hmm?”

“I’m sorry,” Buck repeats. 

“For waking me up?” 

“No, for everything.”

Eddie sighs. “I forgive you. I’ve already forgiven you.”

“But I’m still sorry.” 

“Buck,” Eddie complains. “Don’t do this. This doesn’t help. Believe me, I know.”

“I’m going to go to therapy,” Buck says. 

“That’s a good idea,” Eddie says. “We could both use therapy. Do you think there are vampire therapists?”

“If there’s not, there should be,” Buck replies. “They’d have the corner on the market right now.”

“Exactly,” Eddie says. “And surely some shrink out there got bit?”

[jessicafangirl]

The First Chapter of My Ghost Fic is here!

Please be kind. I've not written anything for this group before but god damn do I love Copia and this idea hit me and I decided to do it.

I'm a wordy bitch. You've been warned. You can also read this on Archive Of Our Own here

@nequissimus-canis asked to be tagged which was very kind. This is also dedicated to @foxybouquet who I blame for so many amazing things that I've learned and who enables me beautifully. You are my fave Ghestie.

Music Eternal, Fire Infernal.

Jennifer Travers is at the tail end of 40 and decides to do something spontaneous. Unfortunately things REALLY don't go as planned. Her life is in now in danger and the only place of refuge is a satanic church. She knew the band Ghost already, but she didn't know until that day that all of it was real and it would lead to something that would change her life forever, in more ways than one. And it would lead to some revelations for Copia Emeritus too.

Chapter 1

“The cemetery here is close to 300 years old. It contains some interesting residence that have a history that will send a shiver down your spine.” The tour guide’s Maglite flashed along the path and caught one or two of the “residence” headstones as he droned on in a bored monotone. As the group walked through the dark, Jennifer realized this was not one of her best ideas. Her breath was visible as she huddled in her hoodie. Let’s go on the spooky ooky tour, she thought to herself. Let’s troll through an old graveyard at night. Hey there’s a satanic church nearby…what could go wrong? All of that sounded great on paper but the reality was really kind of fucking miserable. This guy knew literally nothing about what he was talking about. Jen could have done a better job…not that that would have been hard.

She sighed and tightened the straps on her backpack. At 47 walking while carrying a backpack weighted down by her Switch, iPad, and clothes was not as easy as it used to be. But she wanted to travel light. This trip was something she’d promised herself for a while. After the year she’d had, a spur of the moment trip to the east coast to visit some of the older and creepier parts of the country was something she decided to do. She shoved some things into her bag and hopped on a plane. And now here she was probably going to break her leg because she decided to take a night tour like a moron.

It was pretty though, she had to admit as she and the four other suckers crunched through dead leaves. Very Universal Horror. She could almost see Dwight Frye and Colin Clive digging up one of those old graves if she squinted right. In the distance she could see the large, sprawling church that looked like it belonged in Romania and not in New York State. The guide had said that the Ghost project was in residence. When he’d said that it had cemented her decision to go on this insane tour just in case she could catch a glimpse of the band. She’d loved their music and the whole mystique but hadn’t realized it was a REAL church of Satan until…well…there was the church. She’d never seen a concert in person either, but the videos she’d caught online were interesting. The current lead singer was apparently a sweetheart for a satanic pope. She could hear her elderly, right wing mother screeching about how just having that thought was going to send her to hell. God knew the list her family had was already long enough for what was wrong with her, what was one more thing.

Jen realized she’d lagged behind as she’d kept looking up at the church and hurried to catch up. Even though the guide wasn’t the best he had a flashlight, and she had no freaking idea where anything was around there. That extra 20 pounds she wanted to always lose was felt hard as she rejoined the group. “The church you see is of course part of the Satanic Church of Emeritus. I’m sure some of you are fans of the band Ghost and if you aren’t you can find out information about the church and the band through this website…” The tour guide literally rambled off a web address and Jen raised an eyebrow. Were they supposed to write that down in the dead of night?

They kept walking and the guide led them into another area of the cemetery, this one with large tombs and statues spread out along the grounds. This was obviously the more well to do section and Jennifer was awestruck by how beautiful it was, even if it was slightly crumbling. The moon was shining down brightly now, full and clear, so she could walk without too much risk of falling on her ass as she was want to do. Her Converse sneakers weren’t really made for uneven ground, but so far, she was doing okay. As the tour guide rambled on Jen pulled out her iPhone and started taking some pictures of the statues. The one of the grim reaper was wonderfully gothic and even had a skull carved inside the stone robes that made it up. She headed over to another area where the largest crypt sat with a giant letter E carved over an archway entrance that had rose bushes on either side. They were old bushes that had grown nearly as tall as the entrance. The flowers were large, red, and smelled amazing. She loved roses but even she was surprised at how big the thorns were on those plants. It was almost like they were there not for the flowers but for some sort of deterrent to keep people from trying to get in or maybe even vandalize the tomb. When she leaned over to take a whiff of one blood red bud, she noticed the sharp little daggers were half an inch long and nearly that thick.

Jen took a picture of the entrance, her eyes taking in more of the designs that could be seen in the stonework not covered by the plants. Sigils…inverted crosses…pentagrams and peeking down from the roof were even a couple of gargoyles. Ah…yeah…satanic church. She slipped her phone into her back pocked of her jeans and ran her fingers through her short red hair, cracking her stiffening neck and realized she should get back to the group. According to her phone and watch it was nearly midnight.

But when she turned around, she realized the boring tour guide and the tiny group were gone. “Did that dip wad just leave me?” She said aloud. God, he really did suck. She headed back the way she came and sure enough the cemetery was empty save for the graves and her. “Well…this is the start of every god damn horror movie I’ve ever seen.” She mumbled to herself. Jen realized she’d been doing that a lot more over the last year or so. But now it was getting to be a habit. Being alone so much you just sort of did it, maybe to remind yourself you had a voice.

With a heavy sigh she took out her phone and checked the battery. She was still at a good 80 percent, but the bad news was her cell service was nowhere to be found. “And now, your life as directed by Wes Craven.” She spoke. “Fuckery doo…okay…” She looked up and was thankful that the moon was still pretty bright. With a heavy sigh she headed out of the graveyard. Jennifer headed towards the direction she was fairly certain they had come from. There was…sort of a path through the trees. The starting point was down towards the bottom of the heavily treed hill where a parking lot sat, not really used. She’d been brought there by a van for the tour. If that ass left in the van before she got down, there she was going to set fire to something. Probably the van if she found it again with the idiot inside.

About twenty mins of walking later she crossed her arms in front of herself realizing her KISS Destroyer hoodie wasn’t near enough of a layer over her thin t-shirt. She was also realizing she was well and truly lost. “If I hear Ki ki ki ma ma ma at any moment I will crap myself.” She said through slightly chattering teeth. The moon decided it had done enough work for her and was now covered in black, oppressive clouds. Jen pulled her phone out and turned on the flashlight. Still no signal. She pondered what she’d done to piss off the universe. She came to a steep downgrade and carefully picked her way down. Luckily it wasn’t too bad for too long and evened out. Unfortunately it led to a thick patch of trees. Jen started praying to whoever was listening that there were no ticks or spiders around. Then she wanted to punch her own face for even thinking about ticks and spiders.

The phones light was barely helping due to the canopy of leaves and how close together everything was. After another few minutes though she heard something. It sounded like talking, movement. This didn’t look like it was near the parking lot though. Did lumberjacks work this late? Was this even a place lumberjacks would be? That made her remember how Dexter wound up ending and she got momentarily depressed. Then she heard the voices again. Well, people was a good thing, right? In the middle of the night in the woods. Jen realized caution might be a good idea.

She headed towards the voices, keeping her camera pointed to the ground and discovered the woods thinned out a bit here. There, in a tiny patch of cleared ground three men stood and one man was on his knees, hands tied behind his back. Jen’s eyes got wide as she saw the large gun in one of the men’s hands. The man on his knees was crying. “I swear to god Donnie…I didn’t want to do it. But they had pictures. I couldn’t…” The man on his knees sobbed. He was balding and looked like he was in his 60s. His face even from this distance was bruised and bloody.

“Shut the fuck up.” The one who was Donnie she assumed spoke harshly, kicking the man in the stomach and making him double over. “I don’t give a god damn about pictures. You sold us out. We’ve got a fuck ton of problems now. But we’re about to have less of one.” He spit on the man’s face and nodded to the other man with the gun. He was tall, unemotional, with a face as blank as a robot. His eyes were so dark they could have been black. He calmly raised the gun and shot the man in the head once and then in the back for good measure. The man fell to the ground in a heap.

Jen hadn’t even had time to react it had all happened so fast but in that moment when it hit her she stepped away in shock and horror, her foot cracking a twig and flashing her phone up towards them, the fucking light like a beacon. The murderers turned and looked straight at her. The one with the gun raised it and fired, but it missed her. And that’s all Jen needed to find the inner strength to sprint back the way she’d come.

“Get that bitch.” Donnie told Blake, the man with the gun and his partner Gary. “I’ll take care of this trash. Hurry the fuck up.”

Gary nodded, straightening the glasses on his head. He and Blake quickly moved towards where the witness had been. There was no way there was anyone else around. This spot was used specifically because no one ever came down there. They weren’t quiet running through the brush and trees. There was no need to be.

Jennifer was running like she never had before. Small branches slapped at her face and arms, and she nearly tripped three times. In her head from far away she thought about every idiot teenage girl who had tripped and died she’d made fun of in a slasher movie. “Sorry…” she thought as she cried. The crying was a problem and something she couldn’t stop or had control of. It was making it harder to breathe and she needed to breathe to run. Running was important as she scrambled up the now incline, her fingers digging into the dirt to make sure she didn’t slide back down. Where the fuck could she go? What the shit was she supposed to do?

She’d shoved her phone back into her pocket, not wanting the light to attract the two killers on her tail. She didn’t have service anyway even if she had a second to call the cops. She didn’t know anyone here. She was alone and it was dark, and she was going to die.

She broke through another barrier of trees, and she knew she had gone a different way than she’d come at that point in her scramble to get away. Jen tried to breathe, to calm her heart, but she felt like she was going to have a stroke. She glanced to her right and then her left, and that’s when she saw it. There was a gate, black wrought iron and it was open. She ran to it and glanced beyond it and realized the path led into part of the Emeritus church. The sprawling building loomed large above her suddenly. Well…the devil or death? Which did she want? Right then the devil was looking good. Jennifer quickly made her way down the pathway. There were little black iron solar lights that lit the stone walkway which was thankfully flat. Her legs were burning as bad as her lungs at this point.

The path led to two metal doors and Jen realized she may still be screwed if they were locked. She skidded to a halt and took a chance to look behind her. There was no one yet…but that didn’t mean anything. She took another breath and said a little prayer…not sure who might be answering them where she was trying to get into and grabbed the door handle. That’s when she heard the sounds of footsteps from far away, voices murmuring low. “Please please please…” she begged and pulled on the door handle. It swung open. She didn’t hesitate, she went in and pulled the door closed behind her.

Jen’s wide blue eyes glanced around the dimly lit hallway she found herself in. The air smelled of incense. It was cool inside the building and the sweat that had broken out during her run immediately started to get chilled and she shivered from a combination of that and pure fear. Her adrenaline was pumping. The men would figure out there was only one place she could have gone. She needed to hide. She turned right and moved quickly hoping not to run into anyone. Jen entered through another set of double doors, these not metal but stained dark wood. So far, she’d not seen anyone else and for that she was grateful. She just needed to hide away somewhere and think, just calm down and think. Maybe the church was empty…maybe they were on tour or something…

The double doors led to a short hallway that opened into what could only be called a small chapel. Though instead of a cross or a Jesus crucifixion scene in front of the pews there was a large statue of a very beautiful devil. His wings looked like they were carved out of black stone, maybe ebony or onyx though that would be a lot of onyx. The rest of him was marble. His horns wrapped backwards on a head covered in carved ringlets of hair like a really majestic goat. There was real red velvet draped over the statue whose right arm was raised, two fingers extended. His other hand was outstretched as if beckoning you. Jen was unnerved as she looked at it, the chill on her skin seemingly growing. Then she heard a door slam, and it pulled her out of wherever her mind was going.

The room smelled even stronger of incense and was lit with black candles and a low light from a red and clear crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling. There were pews, the pulpit area and over on the far right what looked like a small, dark wood confessional. That was the only place she could really try to hide in she saw. She glanced back once hoping it was just some friendly neighborhood satanist that had closed a door and then moved quickly to the confessional. She opened the door and closed it quickly, ignoring the seat and sitting on the floor. She drew her knees up to her chin and felt the tears on her cheeks again, not able to stop them. Jen tried to breathe quietly, tried to calm down. They’d hear her sounding like a dying elephant if she didn’t get this under control. And that’s when the divider slid open making her jerk.

A softly accented voice spoke through the partition “Hello…hi?”

Jen realized there was a priest or someone on the other side…oh shit she’d dragged someone into this. She whispered as low as she could, realizing that the man couldn’t see her where she was hunkered on the floor. “I’m..down here…please…I just need to hide.”

“Sorella…” The man’s voice took on a note of concern. She glanced up and saw an eye looking through the partition. It was white as the ivory of the statue. It widened in surprise. “What is the matter dolce signora?” He asked her.

Jen swallowed thickly; how much should she say? She needed to hide. This guy could just as easily say “Here she is boys. Hail Satan.” But for some reason his voice made her think he wouldn’t. “There are….men…they’re after me. Please I just need to hide until they leave…they’ve got a gun…maybe more than one.” She had to warn him.

She saw a bit more of his face then as he leaned closer to the divider. It was dark but she could see him more clearly as he appeared to be studying her. Jen recognized him as the paints on his face came into view, the green eye and the white. Holy crap this was the guy. This was the lead of the band. And he was taking confessions? What the hell would satanic confessions deal with? And good god this was all really happening to her. A wave of nausea came over her and she had to fight the bile coming up her throat.

“Signora, are you hurt? Have they harmed you?” He asked her gently.

Jennifer shook her head. “No…no…I just need to hide.”

She rested her forehead on her knees. Italian…he was speaking Italian mixed with English. That’s what the accent was. It just kept becoming more surreal. She remembered the accent from the concert videos. He didn’t have it when he sang. But he had it when he was talking to the audience.

She heard it then, the door opening to the chapel. Footsteps. Two sets of them. It was them. It had to be them. She saw the dual-colored eyes glance up at the sound and she started shaking. Well, this was it…spur of the moment decisions have led you to a satanic church and dying horribly. Great job girl. Here lies Jennifer Travers…she fucked up a lot. Only she wouldn’t have a tombstone, it would be a shallow grave in the woods where she’d end up feeding a group of feral badgers with her rotting corpse. Maybe they would be cute badgers. Fuck.

He looked back down at her. “Signora,” he whispered softly, “Stay here, do not make a noise, si?”

Jen nodded, realizing she was trusting a complete stranger with her life at this point. What else could she do?

Blake and Gary glanced around the chapel, starting to move through the pews, looking for where the woman could have gone. Blake glanced at the statue of Lucifer and paused, feeling like the thing was watching them. He knew what the place was, but he’d not been inside. Gary touched his shoulder and he nearly jumped. He pointed towards the confessional booth and nodded. They started heading that way when the door to the priests side opened.

Out stepped a man in black robes with gold and blue satin accents. Golden upside-down crosses where stitched into the fabric. He wasn’t tall, but he had a presence that was only made more intense by the fact his face was painted like a stylized skull. His brown hair was brushed back from his face, greying at the temples with thin lines on his face showing he wasn’t exactly a young man anymore. Blake was weirded out though by the eyes when he saw them. Ringed in the black makeup they were different colors. One green, one white, both of them staring at him and Gary in a way that made him as unnerved as the devil statue.

“Benvenuti Fratelli,” the man said, his black gloved hands raised, pressed together and giving a little bow. “I am Papa Emeritus the 4th…are you here for confession?” He asked them, one brow raised. “I was just getting ready to lock up for the night.”

Blake looked at Gary. Gary was the talker. He glanced at the strange man shaking his head. “No we’re not here to confess. We’re looking for someone. Anyone else come through this way? Anyone try to break in?”

Copia Emeritus lowered his hands while studying the two men in front of him. Something in them reeked of malice and he could sense it. It was part and parcel of being a Papa. You knew who to protect your flock from when you were in a church like theirs. He wouldn’t have needed to hear the terrified sorella in the confessional’s words to know these two were dangerous. He saw the bulky outline of the gun in a holster beneath the tall ones jacket. He’d seen enough crime films and series to know what to look for when it came to that too.

He pursed his lips. “It’s not really possible to break in here. All are welcome at our church.” Copia walked closer to the men, away from the hiding place of the woman and making sure their eyes followed him. “Even you signories if you wish to join us.”

Gary gave a cold smile. “We’re not really the church going type.” He replied.

Copia nodded, returning the smile with as much of a chilly demeanor as the man in front of him. “Well, that is too bad, si? Perhaps someday.” He gave a slight shrug. “But as I said, I am getting ready to lock up for the night.”

The double doors opened then, as if on cue and in walked three figures in all black, silver matching masks on their faces, each a devil with no eyes. One was bigger than the others but all three looked as though they could bench press a truck. Copia glanced over “Ah, tempismo perfetto.” He turned to the new arrivals. “These gentlemen were just leaving, would you be so kind as to as to show them out? Grazie.” With a graceful wave of his hand he motioned for the two men to head towards the doors.

Blake looked at Gary and Gary gave a subtle shake of his head. He knew she was here somewhere. There was nowhere else she could have gone. But they couldn’t do anything right now…there were too many people, and it would be too big a mess. And the silver masked figures were making the hair raise on the back of his neck. He moved and Blake followed him as they walked out. Gary turned to the painted faced freak. “We might stop back now that you mention it.”

Copia raised a brow. “Of course, as I said all are welcome. We’d love to have you.” He gave him another slight bow as they walked out into the hallway, the doors closing behind them, his smile making his face look even more skull like for a moment.

Gary narrowed his eyes, trying to ignore the weird feeling creeping up his spine at the entire group of freaks. Donnie wouldn’t be happy about losing the woman, but then again…he knew she wasn’t really lost. She was here somewhere in the freak house. He followed Blake and the three silver masked weirdos.

When the doors closed behind them Copia moved to slide the lock in place. He took a breath and let it out slowly. He hadn’t expected a confrontation like that tonight. Nor had he expected a frightened woman cowering in his confessional. He needed to find out what had happened, the whole story. And he needed to make sure the lady was okay.

Copia very slowly opened the door to the confessional area and saw her with her head laying on her knees still, shaking like a leaf. She looked up suddenly and he saw the tear streaks on her face. Her face has a few cuts and marks on it from dirt. Her knees and hands were covered in it as well. Her blue eyes were the color of the satin on his robes, but they were rimmed in red from her tears. They were wide and terrified as they looked up at him.

The Papa crouched down, taking a knee next to her and held out a gloved hand. “Cara, they are gone. You are safe here.” He said softly. She was scared and looked at any moment she’d try to bolt away. He couldn’t have her doing that since the safest place she could be right then was inside the church. “I’m Papa Emeritus the 4th….but you can call me Copia.” He gave her a small smile.

She didn’t seem to be convinced yet that she was actually safe with him. He noticed the front of her hoodie and gave a slight nod, his smile growing, “Ah, you are a fan of singers in makeup, si?”

Jennifer realized what he was talking about. The irony was actually funny as she took a breath and wiped her eyes. “Yeah…yes…I grew up listening to them.”

Copia nodded. “I did as well.” He decided this was working, get her mind on something else. “Who was your favorite cara?”

Jen found her breathing was getting easier. She wasn’t trying to gulp air into lungs that didn’t want to work. “Uh…I always liked The Starchild…but The Demon was great…he was a vampire first though.” Rattling off Kiss trivia…she’d nearly been shot, and she was talking about Gene Simmons and spewing blood.

The Papa nodded, “Well, due to my position I must go with The Demon as a personal favorite, eh? But The Starchild has a voice…” Here he placed two fingers to his lips and did an air kiss. “Bellissimo.”

Jennifer laughed…she actually laughed. Just another surreal experience in a night filled with them “I guess you would be team demon.”

“Si, I would.” He reached closer to her with his hand, “Cara, would you like to go somewhere more comfortable than the floor?”

She nodded then and he helped her to stand. Her legs were sore, and she was glad he offered her a helping hand. She nearly stumbled but he steadied her. “Sorry…I’m…I ran up the hill and it wasn’t great.” She let go of his hand and looked at her own, covered in dirt and cuts from clawing up it.

Copia saw the state of her more clearly now. It was obvious she’d been through an ordeal already. She was still shaking though she’d calmed down some. “I can imagine.” He said, “May I have your name?” He asked her.

“Jennifer…Jen…I’m…” She felt a little woozy. “I’m…okay…I think I may need to sit down.”

Copia took her arm. “Jennifer you are safe here as I said. We are a haven for those in need and trouble.” He led her over to one of the pews. “Here, allow me to take your bag.” Jen slid the straps off her shoulders and watched Copia place it next to her. She sat down on the cushioned seat.

Copia examined her a bit closer. She was pale, very pale. He realized whatever had happened she was going into or was already in shock. “Jennifer,” he said her name and she glanced up at him. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Jen wanted to tell him. She needed to tell someone and the nice guy in the skull make up was right there. But when she started thinking about it her lungs started to ache. “They…they killed…oh god they killed that guy…” She managed to get out.

Copia’s eyes widened. Oh Dark Lord…she’d witnessed a murder? “You saw this happen cara?” He asked, sitting down next to her.

She shook her head yes. “They shot him…twice. I…I couldn’t do anything it happened so fast.” She turned and looked at him. “They saw me and they…they shot at me. And I ran.” Her voice was breaking, she couldn’t breathe as the image of the man’s head basically exploding came to her unbidden. She was trembling so hard that she thought she was going to break apart. But she couldn’t stop it, she tried but she couldn’t.

Suddenly she stood up and started backing away from the nice satanist. She’d just told him what had happened. “I’m…I shouldn’t have…” She was rambling and Jen found herself growing dizzy. They’d want to kill him too now, right? She’d just signed this rock stars death warrant, hadn’t she? The nice devil guy with the pretty green eye. Oh god there were black spots in front of her.

Copia stood up and moved close to her. He’d been to enough concerts to tell when someone was about to collapse from heat exhaustion or something else. And right then she was having a hell of a panic attack, something he was personally familiar with. “Jennifer, you’re okay…it’s okay…” He moved closer to her slowly.

“No…no…not…okay…” Oh god, she couldn’t feel her legs. The blood rushed from her head, and she felt herself buckling. She started to hit the floor and felt arms catching her, heard the rustling of fabric as she was caught before she could. The scent of incense was stronger than before. She glanced up and through a haze she saw a skull staring down at her and three silver-headed demons. Before she blacked out completely, she realized…she felt safe.

TRANSLATIONS: Benvenuti Fratelli - Welcome Brothers Sorella - Sister Cara - Dear Si - Yes Signora - Lady

[pennyserenade]

Below the cut is a list compiled of X-Files fanfic that I've enjoyed in the past month or so. Some of these fics (or maybe all of these fics) are ones that are probably well known by this fandom, but they are new to me. The purpose of this list is both to share my recommendations and also to have something to refer back to when my mind gets to wondering about one of them. There's nothing more heartbreaking than losing a good fic you remember vividly. Special thanks to those beyond incredible websites like X-Libris and Gossamer, as well as tumblr users with impressive fic recs such @lilydalexf, @enigmaticxbee, and @randomfoggytiger.

THE X-FILES ORIGINAL SERIES era:

SHORTER STORIES:

The Angle of the Wrist by pqlaertes (1.7k) (explicit):

season four, cancer arc. A heartbreakingly good, soft smut story where a concerned Mulder watches intently over a sick Scully, and loves her in his own ways. 

LONGER STORIES:

Inspection by IngridGradient (22k+) (explicit):

set seasons one through seven. Beginning in season one, Mulder and Scully begin to inspect one another’s bodies for ticks after certain field cases. What begins as a rather innocuous exercise gradually forms into something much different than intended. I loved this because it felt very Mulder and Scully in the way it was full of yearning and all the flirting and the loving was done so silently as to be almost deadly to the two of them. Mulder is so sappy and in love in this, too, and I adore it so much. Also it's hot! 

*Equilibrium by astronaught (currently at 14k+) (teen):

currently season one through eight. A deep look into the ever-adapting relationship of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully throughout the series, as well as the agents themselves. Begins in season one and offers insightful and moving analysis for each of the seasons. This one is truly literary and absolutely breathtaking. The author is beyond talented, offering insightful and touching analysis of these two brilliant characters in a decidedly brilliant way. I’ve re-read many of these chapters, not only because they are so good, but because I feel there’s always more to find within them. This isn’t finished yet but it is definitely worth checking out.

Overnight Sensation by Syntax6 (50k+) (explicit):

set in season six, between Tithonus and Arcadia. A peeved post One Son/Two Father’s Scully debates her future with The X-Files and Mulder. She ends up taking a case in Boston to try out another life for a size, and Mulder - being Mulder - follows her out there. Chaos ensues when past grudges (and loves) are dredged up, and a killer continues to unleash hell on the city of Boston. This is another good profiler Mulder fic and also a lovely jealousy fic. Mulder was such an ass in season six and some of Scully’s decisions in this feel a little gratifying. I wouldn’t say it was so much explicit in the case of sexual situations, but definitely in terms of the content surrounding the murders. Another to be wary of if you can’t do dark, but very, very good. This author is excellent at case file fics. 

All the Way Home by Syntax6 (48k+) (explicit):

set early season seven, a bit after The Sixth Extinction: Amor Fati. Mulder is forced down memory lane when a serial killer he tried to help catch years ago seemingly comes back -- and he wants Mulder’s attention. This one I remember being distinctively creepy. It's definitely what I would consider a case file fic and I highly recommend it (but you ought to know it does get dark and if you feel uncomfortable with say, the contents of Silence of the Lambs, you should be wary of this. If you can get through that then you should be okay, though). I love the way this writer writes Mulder and Scully, and quickly found that I’m quite attached to fics where Mulder is a profiler. It’s a different and captivating side to him and I love, love, love the way the author weaves who Mulder is into how he responds to cases such as these. Mulder is such a nuanced individual and this author always writes he and Scully with such respect and accuracy. I would not be surprised to find out they have also written X-Files episodes in real life. 

Eclipse by Diana Battis and Alanna (20k+) (explicit): 

set in season seven. Scully asks Mulder to help her conceive children and they spend the next few months fighting that battle together, close as they ever have been. This story is so heartbreakingly tender and I fear my heart won’t ever recover from reading it (especially with that ending).  

Parabiosis by Penumbra (50k+) (explicit):

set in season seven. Mulder and Scully’s relationship as it evolves during the era of season seven, with a little bit of Mummy casefile to top it off. This one was a bit hard to wrap my mind around at first, but once I got the hang of the structure, it was smooth sailing from there. The way this author writes Mulder and Scully’s evolving relationship is beautiful--almost so intimate that you feel intrusive just for reading. I couldn’t put it down. Also, I must say this in relation to this fic: Chris Carter, eat your heart out.

X-FILES: I WANT TO BELIEVE era (either pre or during):

SHORTER STORIES:

Phenomenology by h0ldthiscat (3.6k+) (explicit):

Mulder wakes up frightened, afraid something has happened to Scully when he can’t find her in bed, and she comforts him. This is angsty but very good.

Porch Sex by icedteainthebag (1.8k+) (explicit):

I love, love, love a good flirty Mulder/Scully fic. This is definitely that. See also: the addressing of height difference during doggy sex. *chef’s kiss*’

LONGER STORIES:

Gravity by Malibu Sunset (26k+) (explicit):

Follows Mulder and Scully inside their life of exile, with Scully working as nurse and Mulder flying entirely under the radar; that is, until the events of the movie take place and he’s able to have a life outside of the unremarkable house again. I love this one for a lot of reasons -- the domesticity of Mulder and Scully, in which we get so little of in the original and revival series; the talk of William, of what they lost, and what they continue to lose; and the soft, comforting vignettes in between it all. I’m also particularly fond of the descriptive but accurate sex. It’s not always perfect (an aging Mulder has to wait until he can get another erection; they have drunk, imperfect sex while the lasagna cooks; Scully doesn’t cum each time; and Scully - yes even Scully - gets UTIs). 

THE X-FILES REBOOT era:

knock three times by wtfmulder (1k) (explicit):

season eleven, plus one. Scully initiates sex with Mulder in the connected motel rooms. I have a special place in my heart for smut with an older Mulder and Scully. This is short and sweet and absolutely perfect. 

THE X-FILES aus:

LONGER STORIES:

You He Did Not Fail by extraordinarily_ordinary (85k) (explicit):

seasons one-five, deriving from the plot a little after Scully goes into remission. Scully has left Mulder and the X-Files behind without an explanation, taking a reassignment in L.A. Needing an expert profiler to help her with a difficult case, Scully asks Skinner for one from Washington D.C. Mulder ends up being the one she gets, and he comes with lots of questions about her departure, along with the heavy weight of their shared past together. Scully is made to make some difficult decisions while she and Mulder make headway in the case. This fic was so good I devoured it in a single day. This derives from the plot in a way that I found equal parts realistic and painful, and I love the Mulder we get in this. He feels like Duchovny’s own deeply sorrowful man, who just can’t seem to catch a break no matter how he tries. Oh, and he’s deeply and pitifully in love with Scully. Scully too feels so well fleshed out here. This is an incredible, and perhaps more realistic, take on a plot I’ve always regarded with some questions in The X-Files, and it gives Scully back some agency that she deserves.

[asirensrage]

Saudade - Chapter 26

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Mikey x OC, Hanma x OC, Ran x OC, Mikey x OC x Draken Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Warnings: swearing, violence, threats of violence, murder, smoking, sex, consensual sex between teenagers, alcohol, recreational drug use, mention of trafficking, torture, family neglect, mentions of sexual violence. isekai OC. memory loss. unbeta’d **warnings are not exhaustive** Summary: No one seems to realize she doesn’t belong until she finally runs into her “new” brother, Hanagaki Takemichi. Now, hearing his story, Takara makes the choice to help him and hopefully find her way home, but faking it til you make it only lasts so long when you start losing the memories of the life you had before. As Takemichi becomes the only family she’s ever known, how far will she go to protect him?

notes: This chapter holds one of my favourite scenes. I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think. <3

also on ao3

fic masterlist - prev chapter

The Future

Whatever Takemichi expected of the future, it wasn’t to be sitting across from Taiju of all people. He seems older, more sophisticated, at least in a way that makes Takemichi feel like a loser. Again. He’s grateful not to be a part of the bad Toman in this future, but it still stings to know his life hasn’t changed. 

Naoto and Taiju talk the most, taking over the conversation as the two of them relay what information they each have. Including that Kisaki faked his own death. Takemichi doesn’t know who Izana is, but he’s bad news. Especially since he’s gone out of his way to meet Takara when she’s alone. 

“Do you know where my sister is?” Takemichi finally asks.

“That bitch?” Taiju looks at him disdainfully. Takara will probably be happy to know she’s left that much of an impression on the man. “Fuck if I know. Last I heard she’s married. She’s a–”

“Well, well,” a voice cuts in. Takemichi looks up to see Kokonoi and Inui coming in with a group of guys behind them. “Two of my former bosses having a private conversation?”

It all goes to shit. 

🏒

Taiju stands to buy them some time and Takemichi and Naoto are forced to slip out the back. They’re running until Takemichi makes them stop, wanting to go back because despite them attacking, Inui and Kokonoi were under his command. They have to know something. 

 But then Naoto is shot. Saving Takemichi. 

Naoto is dying in Takmichi’s arms like Mikey did and Kisaki and Izana are there. Kakucho is there. 

“Kaku-chan. Kill him.” 

Takemichi can only watch stunned as his childhood friend shoots him. As he’s bleeding out, he can hear Kisaki and Izana over the sound of Naoto’s laboured breathing.

“Good work. Would have done it myself but I promised my queen I wouldn’t lay a hand on him. Hate to break my promises.”

“It ended all too quickly,” Kisaki says, almost sounding remorseful. 

He hears them walk away and as he lies dying, as Naoto tells him that he’s proud of him…all Takemichi can think is that he can’t give up. That he can still fix this. He can. He can protect his sister and their friends and–

Naoto grabs his hand. 

🏒

Past

“From now on, I’m doing this alone.”

Chifuyu doesn’t even get a chance to question Takemichi before Takara moves and smacks him on the back of the head. 

“Ow!”

“You idiot!” She snaps. She’s been stuck in Takemichi’s dirty room while he explains to her and Chifuyu what he learned not only from the future but Mikey and Emma as well. It’s not that she doesn’t love her brother, but he’s the grossest person she knows. Still, it’s not worth sitting in if he’s going to say stupid shit. 

“Takara!”

“No. You don’t get the make that fucking choice. Not now. We’re all a part of this, Take. You’re not alone. I don’t care what the future holds, it’s not all on your shoulders. We’re a fucking team. You need to act like it.” 

“You don’t get it!” He goes off on some tangent she half follows before he ends it with:  “I’m going to kill Izana and Kisaki.”

“And I’ll help,” she says with a shrug. “You think that bothers me, you haven’t been paying attention.”

“Besides, what about the First Division?” Chifuyu asks. 

“This is my fight!” Takemichi turns away from them and Takara is about to step forward to drag him back into sense before Chifuyu interrupts.

“Then explain that to them! When you asked me to come over here, I told everyone else to come too.”

Watching Chifuyu and Takemichi argue is a little entertaining, mainly because her brother is quickly losing. It’s nice to know one of them has some sense between them. His friends burst into the room and Takara moves automatically out of the way to make space. The room’s smell somehow gets worse. She makes a mental note to make Takemichi air the place out. 

It’s honestly heartwarming watching as his team rallies around him, promising to help. This is how things should be. A team coming to support their captain and vice versa, because they’re only strong with each other. Though, if Takemichi is the captain, what did that make her? A coach? Definitely not a puck bunny, despite what some of the guys might think with her choices. 

“If you’re ready to go down fighting, then I’m with you all the way!” 

She knew Akkun was her favourite. Even if he did lose points for the times he killed her brother in the future. The only reason she hadn’t retaliated was because she did actually like Akkun and it had been made clear to Takemichi that he was manipulated and ordered into it. 

“See? I told you,” Takara says with a grin, rubbing the top of Takemichi’s hair. “You’re not alone.”

“This division’s not as weak as you think. So don’t try to shoulder everything yourself.”

Takemichi smiles and she realizes it’s finally setting in. After all the stress he looked like he was under, it was good to know he was accepting help. That he wasn’t alone.

“Is the First Division Captain here?” A voice calls out and Takara instantly turns towards the window. 

“Who the fuck is yelling?” she asks, opening the window more. Takemichi appears beside her as they look out. Standing on the street next to a car is someone wearing a mask in a Toman uniform. Her eyes narrow. Something feels off about this. Since when did anyone in Toman have a car?

“Get down here,” the boy orders. 

Takemichi moves from the window but Takara grabs his shirt. “I don’t like this.”

“It’s fine,” he says, smiling at her. “It’s someone from Toman.”  

“So were Kisaki and Hanma,” she points out. “Unless it’s someone we know, that doesn’t mean shit.”

“Let’s just see what they want.” 

Takara doesn’t like it, but her brother pushes his way past her and out of the room. She moves to follow, as does Chifuyu and his friends. 

🏒

She stands next to her brother as he pauses by the car. 

The masked boy looks at her quickly but doesn’t comment about her presence. Instead, he knocks on the car window. “He’s here.” 

The car window rolls down and Takara straightens at the sight of the blond who keeps accusing her of being a traitor of a gang she’s not a part of. 

“This is bad, Takemitchy,” she hears Chifuyu say. “He’s the only guy in Toman with a special position.” 

Takara shifts forward, ready to move if she has to. She won’t insult her brother by standing in front of him right now but she doesn’t like this. It feels like another team is about to make some play that’s gonna make them lose. 

“Yo, Hanagaki.”

“What?” she calls out, just because she can. “Miss me?” It’s a stupid attempt at a distraction, but until she hears it straight from him, she can be a brat about it. 

She hears them as Chifuyu says “Watch out!” They appear almost out of nowhere, triggering a quick thought that they planned this. His friends are grabbed quickly, but Takara is smaller than people expect, especially out of her blades, and she ducks out of their reach. She moves forward to her brother but before she can reach him, someone grabs her again. The moment's pause is enough for two of them to grab her arms, pinning her back. 

Mucho punches Takemichi, sending him flying. 

“TAKE!” Takara tries to shove the boys off of her, struggling to get free but they tighten their grip and another wraps an arm around her neck to hold her in place. Takemichi’s friends yell alongside her, demanding to know what he’s done.

“You motherfucker! You touch him again and I’ll fucking kill you!” Takara snarls. She’s seen the aftermath of her brother getting hurt, but it’s never been in front of her. Not since that fucker Kiyomasa and Draken’s stabbing. 

He keeps punching until her brother is passed out. 

Takara sees red. 

The boys are holding her arms but her legs are free. She’s short. They don’t expect her reach or her to be able to actually do a straight split and lift her leg with enough force to catch one of them in the ear. He loosens his grip and Takara drops her weight, taking the others by surprise. They were expecting her to move, but not like this. Takara falls directly into the splits, ignoring the way her arm wrenches and slams her elbow as hard as possible back into the dick of the one trying to hold her by the neck. He lets go and she turns, twisting to sweep one foot back behind the last one's knees. Her other leg is blocking his feet and he falls, face-first into the pavement from his attempt to hold her still. 

Others rush forward to help but she tucks and rolls, towards Takemichi where Sanzu is shoving him into the car. “TAKE!” She screams. Mucho looks towards her as he gets into the car. She flips up to her feet. “YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD!”

He closes the door and the car drives off. She runs, but Takara is slow on her own feet. “TAKE!” She’s panting, eyes wide in fury as she watches her brother stolen from her. 

She turns to the group of boys who restricted them, who stopped her from helping her brother. She hears someone say “Oh shit” but she doesn’t know who. She lunges forward. 

Takara jumps, wrapping her arm around one of their necks and using them as leverage as she kicks another in the face. She twists and flips, leaping off of the backs of them and throwing her own weight around as she grabs onto their necks. She moves automatically, years of gymnastics coming to the fore as her anger fuels her.  

At one point, one of them grabs the hockey stick outside her door and tries to use that, but Takara drops and slides between their legs, dropping them to their knees with another groin shot before she rolls into a roundoff and kicks them in the head. For all their experience in fighting, none of them seem to be able to figure out how to move against a girl who slips through their defences and seems to fly between them. Once Chifuyu and the others are free, they run. 

Takara spits out the blood on the ground. “Fucking cowards,” she says. She didn’t get out completely unscathed and could already feel the bruises forming on her face and legs. Hitting someone was easy but it had repercussions, especially with some of the moves she made. Her tights are torn, her knees and legs scrapped up as well as her palms. 

“Holy shit, Takara. Where the fuck did you learn that?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she moves to the door, grabs her skates from their storage place and throws her shoes in their place. 

“What are you doing?” 

Chifuyu, Akkun and the others are standing in front of her, watching as she laces up her rollerblades.

“What does it look like?” She stands and grabs the bat she just recently replaced. “I’m getting my fucking brother back. Deal with this shit,” she motions to the injured boys in her yard. “I’ll be back.”

🏒

tag list: @raith-way @zeleniafic @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse

@themaradwrites @kingsmakers @thatmagickjuju @awkwardchick87 @hayatoseyepatch

tr tag: @mitsuwuyaa @blackfire2013 @bleach-your-panties @reiners-milkbiddies

saudade tag: @thisbicc @scythegal @bontenxo

network tag: @pixelcafe-network

[trensu]

okay, so it turns out that the hawkins halfway house fic is going to have six chapters, actually. i'm not gonna post anything on ao3 until i have the final chapter done. i'm currently working on that sixth chapter, but here's the rest of chapter five in the meantime.

Continued from here

-

The man chuckled goodnaturedly. “Didn’t say you were. What’s your name, son?”

“Steve,” he replied. The man chuckled again.

“Thought so,” the man said. At Steve’s questioning gaze, he shrugged nonchalantly. “You look like a Steve. I’m Wayne. Why don’t you come inside? The kids made a batch of lemonade earlier today and there’s a phone you can use to call a tow.”

Which was how Steve found himself seated at a dining table that seemed too large to fit in the room even though he and Wayne were clearly able to move around the place without crowding one another. Maybe the table looked bigger than it was because of the multiple frosty pitchers of various sizes haphazardly lined up on it. Each one seemed almost dangerously full. Steve was sure one unexpected bump would turn them into a river of lemonade.

“That’s…a lot of lemonade,” Steve commented.

“A couple of the kids’ friends are visiting,” Wayne said. “We don’t see them very often. One of them learned a new trick to keep things cold. He was only going to do one pitcher, of course, but you know how kids are. Everyone wanted to make their own lemonade and told Will he had to do it again for each one.”

Wayne used a potholder to grab the handle of the nearest pitcher of lemonade. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d say the pitcher was coated by ice half an inch thick. Obviously the pitcher had to be made of fancy decorative glass like the kind his mother would’ve bought. Wayne poured two glasses of lemonade, handing one to Steve which he took gratefully. Wayne eased himself into one of the chairs. Steve joined him. He drank half the glass before asking.

“So where are the grandkids you’ve been chasing? The house seems pretty quiet for that many children,” Steve nodded at the series of pitchers.

“They’re not my grandkids. I’m not as lucky as all that,” Wayne said. “I’m just here to lend a hand where I can.”

“A volunteer? Is this like a daycare?” Steve asked, trying not to seem too eager. This could be something. It wouldn’t be parenthood, but maybe he could volunteer to help kids in some small way. He’ll have to look into that later. Robin would help him find something, he’s positive.

“...you could say that, I suppose. As for your other question, they’re all out back, probably in the woods burning off energy with some of the grown-ups supervising.”

“Well, I’ll try to be out of your hair before they come back,” Steve stood, taking both of their glasses to the sink and rinsing them out. He waved Wayne away when he protested about guests doing chores. “If you could tell me where your phone is to call a tow truck, you don’t have to get up.” 

“Son, I don’t need no mollycoddling,” Wayne said gruffly. Steve flushed.

“No, that’s not–I didn’t mean–” Except he did. Wayne had been out in the heat and sun with him for who knows how long, risking heat exhaustion for a total stranger. It was also evident in the way he moved that he had some joint pain, particularly in the knees. Steve sighed. “Heat exhaustion is no joke. I used to be a lifeguard, it can get pretty bad for, uh, people of your age group.”

“You’re as bad as my boy, I can already tell,” Wayne said. “Thank god Eddie’s out there with the kids or he’d give me a talking to, as if he had a leg to stand on. I’m able to get around just fine without anyone’s hovering.”

“Uncle Wayne,” a soft solemn voice interrupted. Steve jumped when he saw a kid at the dining room entrance. He hadn’t heard anyone approaching.

“Jesus,” Steve muttered to himself. “Pay attention, Steve.”

The kid had shorn dark hair and big eyes. They wore a dress that looked like it’d been owned by at least two kids previously, and a pair of old light-up sneakers. They held a cane in their hands.

“Well, hey there, little miss,” Wayne greeted jovially. “Do you need anything, El?”

“You forgot your cane,” El said each word carefully. She walked up to Wayne, leaned the cane against the dining table, and held his large hand in her two small ones, as if to reassure him. “Let Steve help. He is nice. Dustin said so.”

El must have him confused with some other Steve she knew, but damn if that wasn’t the cutest thing he’d ever seen. By the way Wayne smiled at her, he seemed to agree. He heaved a big sigh, as if relenting was a big favor he was granting her, and accepted the cane.

“Fine, fine, but only because a sweet young lady asked me, too,” he said. El grinned which lit up her previously somber face. “Why aren’t you outside with the others?”

“Too much sun,” she said. “Hurts.”

Steve could sympathize. Too much sunlight sometimes triggered migraines that would knock him down for an entire day, or more if he was unlucky. El looked a bit putout she wasn’t outside with the others.

"Sometimes, it’s better to stay inside when it’s like this. There’s always something fun to do indoors, too," Steve said.

“There sure is,” Wayne agreed. “Weren’t you practicing your braiding? Why don’t you bring your doll over, and you can show us how to do it.”

While El went to find her toy, Wayne showed Steve where they kept the phone. However, they were having some difficulty getting a call to actually connect. Steve tried the number for the towing company, the bookstore he and Robin worked at, and his own home phone to no avail. After the third attempted call ended with Steve nearly slamming the phone into its base, Wayne picked up the phone and listened to it for a moment before dialing a number. After a bit, he hung up the phone much more gently than Steve had.

“House is acting strange. I’ll ask Eddie to look into that. Or maybe Jeff. I think it likes him better, but don’t tell Eddie that,” Wayne said. “I can give you a ride home if you need it, once everyone’s back.”

“Thanks, Wayne,” Steve said with a rundown sigh. “I might have to take you up on that.”

By then, El had returned with a couple of long haired dolls. Once the three of them had settled in the spacious living room, El handed Steve one of the dolls.

“Uncle Wayne knows how, but it hurts his hands,” El explained why she only brought two instead of three dolls. Wayne grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘didn’t raise no narc.’ Steve suppressed a smile and tried to match El’s seriousness. “It is important to know how. I can show you.”

When Steve Harrington was in high school, he not only had the title of king, but had also gotten dubbed ‘The Hair.’ Steve earned that nickname for a reason. He had hair care down to an art. One of his favorite things to do with his various ex-girlfriends was helping them with their hair. All that to say, Steve knew how to braid hair. Steve knew how to braid hair in multiple different ways. 

There was not enough money in the world to get him to tell that to the little girl very patiently instructing him at that very moment. In fact, he made sure to fumble a couple of times so that El had the opportunity to correct him. She patiently did, each time, until Steve finished a braid to her satisfaction.

“You did it,” she beamed at him when they had accomplished a single braid.

“I had a fantastic teacher,” Steve nudged her, making her giggle. “Are you going to grow out your hair so you can have braids, too?”

“I do not know. Can hair do other things?” El asked. 

Steve reminded himself he was speaking to a child and should not go on with his detailed hair care lecture that Robin constantly made fun of him for; though, Steve liked to point out, it never stopped Robin from following his instructions. Steve claimed all the credit for her excellent hair, regardless of Robin’s indignant protests.

“Well, it depends on what kind of hair you have. Do you have straight hair or curly hair?” Steve asked.

“I have not decided yet.”

“I’m not sure that’s something you can decide, honey,” Steve said gently. 

“I can,” El replied simply. “Which is better?”

“Both kinds are good in their own way,” Steve said. “But I like curly hair. Curls are cool.”

“Curls are…cool?” El paused in thought and nodded to herself. “Yes. Dustin and Eddie have curly hair. I think they are cool.”

“I don’t think I’ve met them, but yeah, their curls are probably very cool.” 

El’s brows furrowed in concentration for a moment. Her short hair started to grow, as quick as a videotape on fast-foward, into dark ringlets. They continued to grow until they reached past her chin. She pulled one of them in front of her face, studying it, and letting it spring back in place. She looked up at Steve with a shy but proud smile.

“Curls are cool,” she said.

“Um.” Steve’s brain stuttered. He looked over to Wayne, who sat there watching them placidly as if nothing had happened. “Y-Yeah. Like that. Cool, very cool.”

“Did I do it wrong?” El said, curling in on herself as she took in Steve’s no doubt panicked expression. “Human hair is supposed to grow. Jeff told me.”

“That’s right,” Wayne said gently. “It grows like that but a lot slower. I’m sure Steve can explain. How often do you get your hair cut?”

“Uh,” Steve swallowed, trying to ignore his jangling nerves in the face of Wayne’s calm demeanor. “Um. Every–every few weeks. But, uh, R-Robin, my friend, likes hers longer and goes once a year, I-I think.”

“A year is a very long time,” El said quietly. She had shrunken her posture even smaller, eyeing Steve apologetically. “I am sorry I scared you. I did not mean to.”

She sounded so guilty and nervous, it sent a pang through Steve’s heart. She was a little girl who had been nothing but sweet the entire visit and Steve was freaking out over…what? Fast growing hair? Ridiculous.

“It’s alright,” Steve said, forcing more confidence into his voice than he felt. “I’m the one that reacted badly, so I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better.”

Out of the corner of his eye, a tension he hadn’t even noticed loosened from Wayne’s shoulders. Wayne’s grip on his cane relaxed, too. It struck Steve that if he had reacted aggressively, he had no doubt that Wayne would’ve put a stop to it one way or another.

“It’s okay. I understand,” El said, patting his arm as if she’d seen someone do it once but hadn’t had the chance to try it herself. Delicately but with intent. “Mike says humans are…scaredy-cats. That means you get scared easy.” She paused and her brow furrowed. “I do not know why there are cats. You do not look like a cat.”

At El’s earnest confusion, all of Steve’s pent up nerves and fear popped like a balloon into a fit of giggles that were only slightly off kilter. El let out a few shy giggles, too, and the last of the tension left Wayne as he relaxed back into his armchair completely.

“I really don’t,” Steve agreed. “But I like cats a lot.”

El lit up.

“Dustin is sometimes a cat!” she told him excitedly. She cupped her hands as if holding something little. “He is a very small cat.”

Yeah, Steve thought, sure. Why not have a boy turn into a cat with a girl who could fast-forward hair growth? Steve planned to get himself a drink later tonight. He thought he handled this pretty well, all things considered. He deserved a reward.

–

The three of them were playing the tamest game of Uno Steve had ever played in his life when he heard shouting. Wayne sighed a long-suffering sigh that was belied by a fond grin.

"Here comes trouble," Wayne said. El giggled in response. Steve took the opportunity to put down a draw four card for Wayne. Wayne took notice and scowled at Steve. Steve gave him his best innocent look but the effect was ruined by the sound of the front door slamming open.

"HOUSE!" a man shouted. "What the hell? Are you proud of yourself? Are you pleased? You made small children walk for an extra hour out in the blazing sun!"

The shouting was accompanied by stomping footsteps and exaggerated huffing and puffing. Laughter rang all the way through to the living room as children reacted to the dramatics. El brightened at the sound and quickly abandoned the card game to run to the foyer. The loud man seemed to take the kids’ laughter as encouragement. 

"More importantly, you made me walk an extra hour, House! These boots were not made for walking. Hey, El! Do these boots look like they’re for walking?"

“No,” El laughed.

"Maybe you should've worn tennis shoes instead, like I told you," a woman's voice pitched in.

"Don't know what you’re whining about," another man added. "I'm the one who had to carry Erica for, like, ten blocks."

"Hey, this is not my fault! None of this would've happened if House hadn't decided to move somewhere else without bringing us along!" the first man protested.

“I’m telling Nancy you got us lost,” a boy said petulantly.

“Not if you ever want to hang out with us again you won’t,” grumbled the first man in response. Then he called out, “Uncle Wayne, you in here?”

“Living room,” Wayne called back as he drew four cards to continue their game of Uno, despite the disappearance of their third player.

“Uncle Wayne!” a chorus of children’s voices rang. Soon, a horde of kids tumbled into the room.

A white boy with curly hair and a black boy both cried out excitedly when they saw who was in the living room. “Steve!”

Steve blinked in surprise. How did these kids recognize him? Had they seen him working in the bookstore? Steve was pretty sure he hadn’t seen either of them in the store before. 

The two other boys with them didn’t recognize him. They were both frighteningly pale, though in slightly different ways. The kid with the bowl-cut carried a blue tint in the skin around his lips, eyes, and fingertips in a way that made Steve shiver with a sudden chill. The other boy’s skin held a gray pallor that reminded Steve uncomfortably of corpses.

“This is Steve?” the boy with the blue-tinted skin asked curiously.

“This is Steve?” the gray boy echoed in a much more unimpressed tone.

“Steve?” Steve heard coming from the hallway. It sounded like the shouting man.

“Shit,” the curly haired boy said. The other boy shoved him.

“Way to go, doofus,” he said with a scowl.

“Hey! You said his name, too!”

“Yeah, said. Not shouted.”

“We said it at the same volume!”

“No we didn’t!”

“Have we met?” Steve tried to interrupt the bickering. His question went unheard under the boys’ loud voices. 

Before he could ask again, a man entered the living room and Steve’s mouth went dry at the sight of him. He was gorgeous. Rangy but firm, with a headful of dark curls that made Steve think of swirling schools of fish. His eyes were big and dark like seabeds. He wore a black sleeveless shirt with some sort of band logo on it. It was worn thin, and damp with sweat. The man glared at him like he wanted to flay him alive.

“You,” the man hissed. 

“Eddie,” Wayne said. Eddie whipped his gaze to where Wayne sat, unconcerned, in the armchair.

“Is that his car outside?” Eddie asked shortly. “How is he here?”

“Ed, calm down,” Wayne said.

“He shouldn’t be here,” Eddie growled. 

“I think he should,” Wayne said with a calm shrug. 

“Me, too!” the curly haired boy piped up.

“Children’s opinions do not count in this conversation,” Eddie snapped. “All of you, get to your rooms. Chrissy–”

“She took the girls upstairs the second you started your hissy fit,” a handsome man interrupted as he joined them in the living room. Steve vaguely recognized him from the bar he and Robin stumbled across months ago. Jeff, maybe? The word Jeffathan popped up in his mind, which was absurd. 

“Take that back, Jeffiam. I do not throw hissy fits,” Eddie said in a tone that Steve personally thought verged hissy fit territory. He chose not to offer up that particular thought to the conversation happening around him. Also, Jeffiam? What on earth? Jeff rolled his eyes.

“Sure,” Jeff said in a way that clearly stated disagreement. “C’mon, boys. We’ll let Eddy and Uncle Wayne figure things out with Steve.”

A series of loud complaints rose up. It almost distracted Steve from how odd Eddie’s name sounded when Jeff said it.

“You guys can stay up an extra hour past bedtime if you come along without fighting,” Jeff said.

The gray boy whooped and ran off the moment the words left Jeff’s lips, with the blue boy close at his heels. The two boys that recognized Steve shot him apologetic looks but chased after their friends with no other complaints. Jeff gave Eddie a stern look. 

“Think this through before doing anything, Eddy,” Jeff said, before turning on his heel and leaving.

That left only Steve, Eddie, and Wayne in the living room that was almost painfully quiet now that El and the other children were gone. Wayne looked as peaceable as ever, but Eddie more than made up for it with the glare that had not let up since he saw Steve. 

Steve had questions. A lot of questions. He couldn’t even begin to articulate his questions. His car broke down though there wasn’t anything wrong with it; the phone in the house wouldn’t connect his calls; a little girl grew her hair at will; there was possibly a child who could transform into a small cat; an entire building seemingly relocated without anyone noticing; and somehow, despite the impossibility of those things, all of it felt almost familiar.

“What is going on?”

“Why are you here?”

Steve and Eddie spoke simultaneously, though Steve’s words came out incredulous and Eddie’s were angry as hell. Wayne watched them both warily. He didn’t interject.

“I didn't come here on purpose,” Steve said defensively. He didn’t owe this man any explanation, he thought irritably, but Wayne had been so kind to him the whole time. Steve didn’t want to pick a fight with his nephew. “I was going grocery shopping and my car broke down. Your uncle was nice enough to let me use the phone but it didn’t work, otherwise I would’ve been long gone.”

“The phone works fine,” Eddie sniffed. “House just doesn’t like you.”

Wayne snorted.

“The problem is the other way around and you’re being too stubborn to see it, Ed. His car worked fine when I was behind the wheel.”

“You got into the car with him?” Eddie asked, aghast. “Uncle Wayne, stranger danger!”

“I am not a child, Eddie.” Wayne rolled his eyes, which seemed to happen a lot around Eddie. Steve thought about how Wayne had gripped his cane in that tense moment after El’s hair trick, and the way he had eyed him during it.

“I’m pretty sure he can take care of himself,” Steve muttered. Eddie puffed up like an angry cat, indignant at the comment.

“Nobody asked you,” Eddie snapped.

“Alright, what the f–” Steve paused, remembering there were children in the house, and course-corrected. “What the heck is your problem with me, man? You’re acting like I insulted your mother or something, but I’d remember you if we’d met before and we haven’t.”

Even as he said that, Steve couldn’t be sure that was true. A sense of familiarity lingered doggedly at the edges of his mind. Eddie’s beauty was breathtaking but it didn’t feel new. 

“Don’t take it personally, Steve,” Eddie sneered. “I don’t like any humans.”

Wayne coughed.

“You don’t count, Uncle Wayne, you’re a god amongst men,” Eddie said without missing a beat. For a brief moment, Wayne smiled crookedly at his nephew.

“You’re not human?” Steve asked, looking Eddie over more closely. He didn’t look inhuman. Then again, neither did El and she proved she wasn’t human pretty easily.

“Nope!” Eddie said with a mean sort of cheeriness. “But it doesn’t matter because you won’t remember any of this.”

Eddie started to hum a tune that muffled Steve’s mind. It was a beautiful song coming from the beautiful man, and Steve wanted to give him anything, everything, he wanted.

“Steve,” Eddie said his name like a song. “I want you to for–”

“Eddie Munson, that’s enough,” Wayne’s sharp tone cut through the hum in Eddie’s words.

The enchanting tune stopped abruptly. The absence left Steve reeling, like his mind was not fully connected to his body. He didn’t like it. Steve couldn’t tell if he wanted the song back or to never hear it again.

“This man has done nothing but be sweet to the kids,” Wayne said. “How many times has he shown up now?”

“It doesn’t mat–”

“Yes it does and you know it,” Wayne interrupted. “Twice with Jeff’s card and this is the second time House moved to find him.”

“But–”

“Dustin went missing for days looking for him, Eddie. You’re being stubborn and that put Dustin in more danger than Steve has so far.”

Eddie’s mouth audibly snapped shut at that declaration.  Eddie jerked back as if struck. A broken musical sound escaped his throat unthinkingly, and it sent a lance of pain through Steve’s heart. Steve wanted to do something to erase that pain from Eddie’s face, but his mind still hadn’t quite gathered itself. His tongue felt heavy and clumsy in his mouth.

“I understand why, Eddie. You’re not wrong to be cautious,” Wayne said. “But what was the point of getting House if you’re not going to trust it?”

Eddie blinked rapidly, eyes red-rimmed. He didn’t look at Wayne. Eddie’s fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. Then his shamed expression shifted into one of steely resolution. He stalked towards Steve. It would’ve been frightening if Steve had had his wits about him. Cool hands cupped Steve’s face and all he could see was deep, dark eyes he wanted to drown in.

“I don’t know how long it’ll take House to find you again,” Eddie said, and the music in his words was gentler than before. It kept Steve’s mind calm. “But I need you to leave.”

“Eddie,” Wayne said. 

The song strengthened to override the interruption. Steve wanted to kiss Eddie. He’d do anything Eddie asked for a kiss.

“Steve, will you be a good boy for me?” Eddie asked.

“Yes,” Steve gasped. He wanted to be so good for Eddie.

“Today is going to feel like a dream,” Eddie said.

“Nice dream,” Steve murmured hazily. A flicker of a smile from Eddie made his stomach swoop pleasantly.

“Yeah, a nice dream,” Eddie said. “You have to leave me now, but I’m going to miss you so much, Steve.”

Steve whimpered. He didn’t want to leave if it would hurt Eddie. He tried to lean forward, to press his forehead against Eddie’s and promise him his life if it would make that smile come back. Eddie's cool hands held him firmly in place.

“Listen to me. I’ll be so sad with you gone, so you’ll come back to me, won’t you? Come back to me in two days, Stevie. Promise me?”

“Promise,” Steve mumbled. “Two days. I’ll come back. I will.”

“I know you will. Now, go and I’ll be ready when you come back to me.”

–

The next thing Steve knew, he was in the parking lot of the grocery store and it was much later in the day than Steve had originally planned. As frustrating as the car trouble had been, Steve couldn’t regret the loss of time. Wayne was such a nice guy to have helped him fix his car and his nephew was gorgeous. His good old Harrington charm still worked like a dream because he got an invitation to visit again in a couple of days. He could scope out the nephew and see if there was maybe a chance for some romance in his future. 

He might as well try, since he had no luck in the adoption front yet. Though, he thought they mentioned something about running a daycare? There may have been some kids running around at some point during the car repairs. Maybe he could volunteer to help out Wayne with the kids. It wouldn’t be the same as fatherhood, but it would be something. 

Steve grinned as he got out of his car and headed into the grocery store. He couldn’t wait to tell Robin. Things were starting to look up!

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