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cas-kingdom · 6 years ago

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The Father Behind the Mask

A/N: Hey! Here’s a V for Vendetta fic, dedicated to @t-wordiiish :)

Not sure how many people will read this, but I enjoyed writing it so I’m posting it! (Please be aware that I obviously had to make up a background for this story & therefore also changed the timeline a little). Enjoy!

Title: The Father Behind the Mask

Summary: What if V had found love before the fire? And what if that love had resulted in a child?

Words: 6026

Though V hated many things in his life, there had always been a part of his heart that was left untouched by any abhorrence; a part that was reserved for love. This part was bigger than the one that housed his hatred, for he’d always believed that love conquered all. But this love revolved around his daughter, not a lover or a wife… he would say he had never had one of those, but he knew it wouldn’t have been true.

The fire at the laboratory had broken him. What more was there to be said about it? It had both physically and mentally turned him into somebody he did not want to be, and he’d wanted to die. He’d wished more than anything that the fire had swallowed him up like it had the rest of them.

The rest of them but one, that was.

There had been a woman before it all. Felicity was her name, V would never forget, and she had been beautiful. A beautiful woman with flowing blonde locks and a smile that had made even the darkest times back then turn to gold. They’d been sent to be experimented on together, and yet it didn’t deter them; it never stopped them from stealing time together whenever they could, whether it was seen to have been breaking the rules of the camp or not.

Neither of them had known Felicity was pregnant.

V had carried her out of the burning building nine months later, her screams almost too much for him, and she had died in his arms not long after giving him the most beautiful gift of all. You.

Sixteen years had passed since then, and much had changed; not just with your father, but with the world in general. You didn’t grow up like normal children your age – V taught you everything you knew, which was pretty much all you needed in the life you lived. You weren’t unhappy in it either, which had been the one thing V feared as you grew older; he worried you would get bored living in an abandoned train station, only allowed out with him, never having any friends your age… but you were fine. You had your father, and though he would often get buried under his work he always made time for you.

And yet your world had changed so suddenly when you met Evey. She’d been surprised to hear that the so-called villain V had a secret daughter, and even more surprised that you had him wrapped around your little finger. It was the last thing she had expected, if she were speaking honestly; she had seen him sit on a small stool by a piano, teaching you the correct keys to the 1812 Overture. She had seen him play Scrabble with you, a game she just would not have been able to imagine him sitting in front of had she not seen it with her own eyes. She had seen him teach you sword fighting, gently correcting you if you got a move wrong and praising you like the father he was when you got one right. She had seen you curled up next to him on the couch while the three of you watched The Count of Monte Cristo, V not giving a second thought to the bit of added company you both had. It would have been a lie for her to say she hadn’t sat in complete wonder after seeing it all. Who would have thought that the now infamous V had a little girl he was completely besotted with? Oh, how the Government could use that to their advantage...

She doubted she would have agreed to stay in the ‘house’ for as long as she did if it weren’t for you. You made her smile in the strangest of ways, and she enjoyed being around you, letting you teach her what you knew of piano and Scrabble playing and showing you which songs she did and did not know on the juke box.

It was on the ninth day, when the two of you were sat on the floor and painting copies of the art littered about V’s rooms, that the man himself came through the door and shook his black cloak free of the small raindrops clinging to it. Both Evey and yourself looked up, paintbrushes pausing in mid-air. “Is it raining?” the former asked.

“I’d say that’s quite evident, my dear,” V replied, and you knew one of his eyebrows were raised under that mask. The corner of Evey’s mouth turned upwards and a slight flush dusted her cheeks. It was no secret that despite her visible hatred for your father forcing her to stay here, she felt some other sort of feeling for him. Of course, you had never seen it on anyone in real life, but you’d watched enough movies to know that when a woman blushed in front of a man, it was because she liked him. You glanced at her for a brief moment, your smile somewhat wider than hers. She must have felt your eyes on her for she looked up not a second later and sighed at the expression on your face, shaking her head in slight exasperation.

“You’re impossible,” she said just loud enough for you to hear, “stop looking at me like that. I haven’t done anything.”

“I didn’t say you had!” you countered. In truth, you hadn’t, but you knew you had been goading her, and for that you allowed your smile to widen into a grin. Nevertheless, your exaggerated words had caused you to sit up straight from your slumped position, hands flying up and white paint from the brush splattering around you.

“Y/N!” Evey gasped. “You got it on your painting!”

You had indeed caused white streaks of paint to run through the beautiful picture you’d spent almost three hours working on. A groan left your mouth, which only increased at the comment that came from behind you.

“And my boots, it would seem.”

V stood mere inches from you, apparently having been looking over your shoulder at the art you and Evey were producing before being painted quite unceremoniously. You turned quickly and stared up at him, almost expecting his mask to be off and a stern gaze resting on your guilty one. Alas, it was still there, as it always was, and he looked no different to how he usually did. You glanced down and winced at the sight of white pools of paint already beginning to dry on the newly polished tops of his black boots. You’d also somehow managed to get some on the coat he was wearing, which caused you to groan yet again. “I’m sorry, Dad,” you apologised, moving to stand up, “I can wash them if you-”

“No, no. You stay here and see if you can fix that painting of yours. I’ll go clean up.” He spun around and walked towards the door, calling out “do make sure she doesn’t paint the rest of the room while I’m gone, Evey” once he’d rounded the corner.

There was nothing that could be done about the painting, though both you and Evey tried your hardest to cover up the most prominent areas and paint over the parts that stood out immensely against the dull background colours. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” she said, dropping her paintbrush back in the pot of water.

“Don’t worry,” you reassured her, “I can try again tomorrow.”

She helped you place the canvas to the side before telling you she was tired and was going to head to bed. It was strange, you thought for possibly the hundredth time since your father carried Evey into the exact room you’d been painting in, to have someone else here with you. It hadn’t taken long at all for the two of you to become friends, which did surprise you since you’d never had any before, but you were beginning to like it as well as simultaneously understanding what you were missing out on. Of course, you knew that V had his reasons for what he was doing – he’d never left you out on all that had happened to him – and you understood that what he did out there meant you weren’t always safe. It made him happier to know you were protected here, and you were fine to comply. For now, anyway. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like after the fifth of November next year, when he’d done what needed to be done and there was nothing left for him to do. You guessed it would be easy enough for you to begin a normal life – it wasn’t like anyone knew V’s identity – but was it too late for that? How hard would a normal life be for you both? Was there even a chance of one?

You weren’t sure how you’d managed to fit all these thoughts in on the short journey from the living room to what you had come to call your father’s office, but they quickly disappeared upon entering and seeing V sat at a chair, both boots off and standing together on the floor by his seat. They were glistening, clearly having been cleaned and polished already. He’d also removed his coat and you suspected it was drying somewhere after him scrubbing at the small white marks with a towel and water.

“Could you do anything about the painting?” he asked once you’d walked in and practically flung yourself on the sofa in the corner. You thought you heard him chuckle lowly at that; your unceremonious behaviour was never a problem for him, despite him being the exact opposite. You made a face and shook your head.

“No, but it’s alright. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

V hummed and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “I won’t be here tomorrow,” he said absentmindedly.

“Why?”

“I have matters to attend to.” He bowed his head slightly and you sighed, knowing it would be futile to ask what exactly these matters were; though he included you in all that he did, you knew that not everything he told you was the truth. The man wanted to protect you from the world, even if that meant from himself also.

“Is that where you were today?”

“Mm, yes. Where is Evey?”

“She’s gone to bed.”

V nodded. “I thought so. The two of you had a productive day, didn’t you? What with painting my boots, and all.”

You gave your father a look at his teasing, a hint of a smile lingering on your lips. He was staring straight at you, and you knew he’d also be smiling, but it was difficult to tell with the mask on. You were used to it always being there, of course you were, but that didn’t mean you necessarily liked it; he was your dad, the one person you actually knew in your life, and the mask hid that. V saw your smile drop and his own faltered. “You know I must keep it on, Y/N. If Evey were to walk in here-”

“I know, I know,” you said, turning your head away from him. It was silent for a moment. “She asked me today if I’d seen your face.”

“Did she, now? And what did you tell her?”

You shrugged. “I said I had. I didn’t want to lie to her.”

V nodded. He understood what you were saying; Evey was a nice woman and though he would never show her his face it wouldn’t have been fair to lie to her. Either way, he suspected she’d already known the answer to the question before she asked it; how much of a father would he have been if he had lived sixteen years with his daughter but never once showed her his true face? She was a smart girl – she’d have thought about that. “Did she say anything else?”

She had, and you were about to tell your father the truth before another thought invaded your mind and placed a small grin on your lips. “She asked if you were handsome.”

You looked up just in time to see your father’s head snap to the side. If only his mask had been off – you would have seen the most priceless expression ever. A snort left you and your hand shot up to cover your mouth.

“You are lying to me.” It wasn’t a question, but rather a statement. He raised his arms and folded them above his head, leaning back on them. Somehow, he looked stern even while wearing a mask.

“Maybe, maybe not,” you told him, watching as he crossed one leg over the other and sat back, taking a very leisurely stance. “Either way I told her you weren’t.”

V chuckled this time; you heard it escape from under his mask, his chest moving along with it. “Of course you did. I would expect nothing less.”

You smiled, sinking back down in the pillows. The room went silent again for a moment. It was odd – Evey being there made things feel different. If she weren’t near, V’s mask would be set on the desk – still in reach in case his paranoid fear of someone finding him and barging in came true – and the two of you would probably be making dinner together in the kitchen, or sat watching the television, or practicing with the swords for the third time that day… anything but lounging purposelessly in two chairs, thrown into a void of silence. It wasn’t that either of you didn’t know what to say; it was a case of what exactly you were allowed to say without fear of it reaching Evey’s ears. V’s plans to blow up Parliament were a secret even to himself.

“She asked me what you looked like, actually,” you told him after a little while.

“What did you say?”

At the time of asking, you hadn’t known what to say. His face was clear in your mind and yet no words were. Of course, it was burned, and though the scarring had not done much to skew his beautiful features and handsome – for, indeed, it was so – face, you didn’t know what Evey would think of it should she ever see it. You’d grown up with him, his face was the only face you’d ever known and you loved it. You’d often asked V as a young child why you did not have the scars he had, only a large one on your side where the fires had licked you before V covered your body with his own to protect you. You’d stopped asking that question as you grew older, yet the answer he had always given seemed to be engraved in your mind. “Because I was there to protect you, my little one.”

His eyes had remained intact through everything. They were bright and shining with memories; deep, mesmerising pools of both love and hatred, and so you’d told Evey exactly that. “I said you had nice eyes.”

V laughed. “You think so?”

“Yes, and she said if they were anything like mine then they were beautiful.” You smiled at that. Both you and your father’s eyes were exactly the same; you hadn’t seemed to inherit anything from your mother, which in a way was a blessing for V as he hated to be reminded of her.

“Well,” the man said, “your eyes are beautiful.”

“Like yours, then?”

“Must be.”

“I think she likes you.”

V, if he were speaking honestly, was taken aback by that. An eyebrow arched under his mask and his arms came down to rest on his legs. He found himself struggling for words, which was something he wasn’t accustomed to. “Well, I- I would be surprised if she did not like me.”

You smirked. “Like like, Dad. You know what I mean.”

V cocked his head to the side slightly, and it was more difficult to understand what his face may be looking like. “Like like… I’m not so sure about that.”

“Maybe because you like like her back?”

Even with the mask on the man looked utterly appalled at even the idea. “I do beg your pardon?”

You shrugged, crossing your own arms over your chest. “Nothing, I just-”

“My dear, are you trying to tell me Evey and I have feelings for each other?” No matter if you were walking on thin ice or not, you’d never pass up an opportunity to tease your father; he could be so stoic, especially when around others, and to lighten his mood had to be your favourite pass time.

“You tell me,” you said with a smile.

“Well, I am telling you that we do not.” He leaned forward in his chair slightly and uncrossed his legs, and you couldn’t help but feel like he was perhaps questioning his own answer. You cocked your head to the side.

“How come?”

“Y/N, we have known each other for a little over a week – nine days, to be precise – and I don’t believe two people can concoct feelings for each other in such a short amount of time.”

“You were able to with Mum.”

V stilled at that, and for a moment you believed you may have finally stepped over the line. You knew there was one, but its whereabouts had remained unclear to you for sixteen years; how far you were allowed to go when discussing your mother with V was a mystery. You knew that the time before they’d been sent to the camps had been difficult; they’d met in that time and found comfort in each other, and so it’d been no task for them to fall in love. You hadn’t meant what you’d said to be taken in a bad way, but you feared V might not think the same. However, your father thankfully seemed to recover. He drew in a deep breath. “That was different,” he told you quietly. A nod was all he received at that; to say something else may have made the conversation turn a darker corner. His head turned to look at you. “Tell me, Y/N… I’m curious as to what exactly you and Evey base your odd little friendship on. You’re strangely good at it, which is only strange because you do not have many friends, and Evey has no reason to grow a relationship with the daughter of the man who brought her back to his house and told her she must stay here for a year.”

In truth, you couldn’t understand completely yourself. Evey was just… easy to get along with, you supposed. And the fact that she had more of a reason to hate you than like you had flown straight over your head. “I don’t know,” you said truthfully. “But I like her. She’s nice.”

“She is. Though I’d prefer you to have some friends your own age.” He seemed to mull that thought over for a moment; his only dream had been for you to have a happy life. Nothing more.

“Me too, believe it or not.” You gave him a look which he’d come to associate with complete and utter sarcasm. “I’m pretty sure I’d have some if you actually let me, Dad.”

V sighed and nodded. “Yes, my apologies. I do have a tendency to forget my own rules, don’t I?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “It’s fine. Evey’s my friend. She’s enough.”

“Evey is old enough to be your mother, my dear,” the man told you, folding his hands together. He liked Evey, of course he did, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty for keeping you from these things. You were a child; you deserved to have friends your age to talk and laugh and gossip with. Though, in this new world there wasn’t much of that anyway. It was in ruins, to put it simply, which had caused his decision to keep you away from it all. He’d already lost one of the loves of his life and he would not lose the only other.

You frowned at his words, ready to fire back something about age not mattering at all in circumstances like these, until a small laugh rippled up the back of your throat and caused you to turn a mischievous grin on your father. “Hm,” you said, “she is old enough to be my mother, isn’t she?”

V’s head slowly turned towards you. “Is that another inclination between Miss Hammond and I having a potential romantic relationship?”

“So you agree, then?”

“I said no such- oh, come here, you little imp, so I can silence that imprudent mouth of yours!”

Again, if Evey were there, she’d probably be looking on in absolute shock as V shot up from his chair like a bullet from a gun and you giggled like a small child, grabbing the pillow from under you and immediately holding it up as a shield. “You sound as though you’re about to murder me!”

V chuckled. “Suppose I am,” he said, cracking his knuckles as he stalked towards you, his pace as slow as he could possibly make it, “what then? What would you do?”

You rolled your eyes; how your father always managed to find a way to teach you survival skills while simultaneously having fun, you had no idea. “I would throw this at you!” you told him, lifting your pillow higher and hurling it straight at his face. “And this! And- and this!” V was dodging pillows the entire way from his seat to yours, finding it extremely difficult to keep his smile concealed. He paused once you’d apparently seemed to run out of ammunition and resorted to rolling on your stomach and curling into the tightest ball humanely possible.

“And now you are completely vulnerable and open to attack,” he speculated. “I suppose you’re wishing you’d kept those pillows, hm? I must admit they did nothing to deter me.”

You let loose a sound which the man could only describe as a cross between a laugh and a groan. “Please don’t kill me!”

“Oh, I would never. Torture, though?” Your eyes widened. “Now, that seems to be more plausible, don’t you agree?”

“No, not at all. Actually, I think leaving me here and going back to your chair would be more plausible.”

V chuckled and quietly bent down to pick up the first pillow you’d tossed at him. He was glad he’d taken his boots off earlier, for the sound of the soft thuds on the floor would have most certainly alerted you to his presence. As it was, you were already suspicious about where exactly he was and why it was so quiet. You felt the urge to turn around, perhaps to see if he was close by, but as soon as you made a move, a pillow was thrown at you with great force and you squealed, immediately returning to your old position. “That hurt!”

“I am quite sure it didn’t.” At this, you did turn your head around, a glare ready to be aimed straight at V. Nevertheless, you were immediately met with his masked face. Honestly, you should have expected it, but your father was unpredictable, especially when he was acting this way.

“Ah! Don’t do that!”

“Why? Did I scare you?”

You rolled your eyes and stared up at your father as he’d somehow managed to hover over you. You wished you were staring into his eyes, but you were instead faced with the mask. V noticed your suddenly-changed expression and set about fixing it immediately.

“I must admit I prefer it when you’re smiling.” It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you when you found yourself in a squealing pit of giggles not long after he’d uttered those words as his dexterous fingers immediately became reacquainted with the ticklish spots covering your body.

“AH! Dad!” Your first instinct was to push his hands off. Of course, it wasn’t like he’d never tickled you before, but it was always unexpected. Him constantly wearing a mask of course had its advantages – for him, at least.

“Yes, my dear?” Your father was hovering over you, leaning on one arm while the other expertly guided his gloved hand across your sensitive skin.

“Get off!”

V tilted his head to the side slightly and stilled his hand, resting it against your stomach. “Give me a reason why I would be willing to do that,” he said, and you knew he was raising an eyebrow, one of those twinkling yet mischievous smiles dancing on his lips. He was still looming over you, and you couldn’t help but recoil into yourself, despite his hand not even moving an inch.

“Because- because you are a nice father who doesn’t want to make his wonderful daughter endure such torture!” And with that, you crossed your arms over your chest and glared up at him. V shook his head fondly, marvelling at just how much you were able to replicate your mother without even knowing her. Of course, you had taken after him in looks, but he saw his Felicity in everything you did and everything you said.

“I can be a nice father and still make my wonderful daughter endure such torture,” he said, and you narrowed your eyes.

“No, you can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because… because! I said so.”

V chuckled. “And I suppose I am inclined to listen to you, since you’ve said so?” You nodded, though the corners of your mouth were turning upwards ever so slightly. Honestly, you were surprised he’d be so willing to play with you like this while Evey was near; he’d never shown that side of him to anyone except you, and it wasn’t like he didn’t think the woman wouldn’t be able to hear your laughter.

“Yes. Now, be a good dad and get off!” The consequences of your actions should have been the first thing you thought of when you bent your knees and kicked at your father’s stomach, simultaneously pushing at his chest with your hands. It’d been done with such a great force that V, as he was thrown ungracefully to the ground, wondered for a brief moment how on earth you’d managed to overpower him, but that thought was quickly disregarded as he landed hard on his back and a groan left his mouth.

You, on the other hand, were showing absolutely no consolation for your father’s predicament. A snort escaped your lips the moment he fell to the floor, and you were lying back on the couch in a giggly fit of hysteria not a second later. “Oh- oh my gohod! Are you ohohokay?”

V said nothing, but you could see his chest heaving, whether from pain or something else, you didn’t know. In a burst of sudden worry, your giggles died down and you slowly sat up, turning worried eyes on your father. “Dad? Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

No answer.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at V, lying on the floor, legs bent at the knees and chest still rising a considerable increased amount. In a flurry, you scrambled to move off the couch, terrified you’d somehow extremely hurt him.

Unfortunately for you, all V had needed was for you to get a little closer so he could reach out, grab your arm and yank you down to join him.

Which was exactly what he did.

You yelped as he pulled you towards him, immediately wrapping his arms around you and wiggling his fingers against your sides, successfully setting you off into another fit of laughter. “You think you can outsmart your own father, my dear?” he said, watching with a smile as you threw your head back against his chest and let loose a scream. “I am afraid pushing the great V off a couch has dire consequences!”

“Stohohohop!” you laughed. He had you wrapped tightly in his arms, your back to his chest and his fingers digging harshly into your sensitive skin from where they were resting at your sides. He sat up, still keeping you trapped against him, and effortlessly continued his assault.

“I’m not sure I want to,” he quipped. He was in heaven, here. His ears were ringing with the most beautiful sound he could ever wish to hear, your bright eyes were shining with tears of absolute joy, and the smile on your lips was a blessing itself. It was so hard for him to keep up his good character when so much shit was going on, but this was easy for him. You made it easy for him.

“StohohOHOHOHOP! PLEASE!” You arched your back as your father moved his hands and expertly dug his fingers into your stomach, relishing in the squeals it produced. You tried to bat at them, but he simply took both wrists in one hand and continued to torture you with the other.

“You should have known better than to mess with me, little one,” he said with a light chuckle, but he was sure his words were lost on you as you were desperately shaking your head and squeezing your eyes shut. Tears were leaking out from under your eyelids and as soon as your laughter turned silent, V withdrew his hand and released you. A breath of relief escaped your lips and you dropped your head to the floor, still breathing heavily.

“Thank God.”

“For what?” your father asked with a chuckle. He was looking straight at you, leaning on both hands as he stretched his legs out. He looked totally relaxed, and you loved it more than anything.

“For stopping you from killing me,” you said, turning a glare on the laughing man. He sat up a little straighter and rose an eyebrow, though, of course, you couldn’t see it.

“I’m fairly sure I stopped that from happening, not God,” he told you. “And I can easily start it again, if you’d like…” He reached forward and you yelped, scrambling up and backwards, frantically trying to move away from your father. All the while, a huge, bright smile was on your lips, making your eyes twinkle like never before.

“Um, excuse me?”

The new voice had come as quite a surprise to you both, and Evey was immediately made aware of that the moment two startled faces – one concealed behind a mask – snapped around to face her. She stepped back slightly as V made a move to scramble to his feet, hands reaching around his belt for a dagger that wasn’t there. It all happened in a couple of seconds, but as soon as V’s eyes made out Evey’s face against the dim light, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Do forgive me, Evey. I’d quite forgotten we had a guest.”

The woman smiled and shook her head, waving the apology off. “It’s fine,” she said, “I didn’t mean to disturb.” There was a hint of mischief on her lips as she glanced between the two of you; clearly, she’d been standing there a lot longer than you thought and was faced with yet another scenario she couldn’t quite comprehend the reasons for and why.

“You didn’t disturb anything,” V rushed to assure her, standing to his feet. He glanced down at you, still lying on the floor. “I, instead, must apologise. We did not intend to wake you.” He clasped his hands together and bowed his head slightly.

“You didn’t wake me, actually. I haven’t slept yet. I was reading, but then I felt thirsty so came to ask if I could get myself a glass of water.”

“Of course you can. Everything I have here in this place is yours, Evey, water least of all.”

Evey smiled gratefully and moved further into the room. “Thank you.” She hesitated for a moment, as if deciding whether or not she was alright to voice her next words. “I heard you talking earlier. You mentioned a name. ‘Felicity’, was it?”

V seemed to be taken by surprise for a moment, quickly glancing between both her and you before settling on an answer. “Uh- Felicity, yes. She was Y/N’s mother.”

“Oh.” She said it so softly it was a wonder you’d even heard her. V moved to sit on the couch, picking up the discarded pillows along the way and placing them neatly back where they belonged. You stayed where you were at his feet, completely sobered now at the change of mood. Evey came to sit next to him, looking at him through concerned eyes. “Where is she now?”

V sighed. “She died in a fire. In... in the fire. A little after delivering our daughter.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Evey’s head dropped slightly, eyes resting on you. She gave you a sad smile and you returned it. Of course, talking about your mother wasn’t exactly a rarity in your household, but it was often painful to speak of her death. Your father spoke of her in so much light that it was almost impossible to imagine all of it happening in a facility they had been trapped in, used as lab experiments and being denied all human rights, opinions and feelings. It had been his intention, however; to remember her in all the good times – though there were few – was far better than remembering her in all the countless bad times that accumulated in their day.

“It’s alright. I know you understand.”

The woman nodded. “I do.” She turned to look at the man next to her yet again and lifted a leg up to tuck under her. “V,” she said, adopting a very serious tone, “may I just say that I honestly do believe you’ve done a fantastic job raising Y/N, especially without a wife to support you. She’s turned into a wonderful young woman, quite the opposite to what I expected, actually, and you should be proud; not only of her, but of you, for creating a beautiful example of a lady.” She gazed at you with a small smile and you grinned back, flicking your eyes over to your father. He’d never been complimented before, and if he had it was by you; of course, nobody tended to exactly like him outside the abandoned train station, and so praise was uncommon.

As expected, V shifted a little awkwardly and cleared his throat. “Well... thank you, Evey.”

“You’re welcome.”

You sat up and leaned against your father’s leg, gazing up at him. “See; what did I tell you? That ‘#1 Dad!’ mug wasn’t a lie.”

V rolled his eyes and gently nudged you over with his foot, placing both hands on his knees before turning to the laughing woman sat next to him. “Why don’t you stay up with us for a little while, Evey? We could watch something? Or... play a board game, perhaps?”

“If you want to, V,” she said with a smile.

“No, it’s - do you want to, is what I’m asking... do you?”

“Yes. Of course I do.” Your eyes flicked between the two and you couldn’t help but feel like you were intruding on something potentially magical, here. V was probably extremely glad he had a mask on, as you knew he’d be looking terribly flushed at this moment in time. You snorted at the idea, quickly slapping a hand over your mouth when the man’s head snapped to face you.

Eyes wide, you scrambled to your feet and raced off. “I’ll get Monopoly!”

“You do that, Y/N.” V shook his head fondly as he watched you vanish around the corner, and he had a feeling his mischievous daughter would do everything in her power to ensure retrieving the game board from the room next door took a lot longer than it should… he wouldn’t have been surprised if you came in an hour later claiming you’d tripped, or was thirsty so stopped for an – apparently hour-long – glass of water.

And as Evey gazed thoughtfully at him, that sweet smile on her lips, realisation struck the infamous V in the face that perhaps he had raised you right…

V for Vendetta Masterpost

#v for vendetta #v #hugo weaving #reader fic #tickle fic #ticklish!reader #v x reader #daughter reader #i honestly have no more tags oml #mine

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