#please continue to join my army

[jasmilliea]

I have to admit, I didn't expect people to start loving greencousins as much as I do, even using the hashtag!

Gosh, every day I found more and more fans and it's quite lovely, they need all the love n support that the writers didn't give to them

#please continue I'm touched #my greencousins folder is getting bigger #like the love for them #join the greencousins army #i love everyone EVEN the angst creators #yeah I am talking about you- #ninjago #lloyd garmadon #morro ninjago #greencousins #green cousins

[fangirl-dot-com]

Across Every Universe - Part 2

Well, I didn't expect this work to get this long. It was only supposed to be short but then I worked on it all day and for multiple hours on end?? I guess I just enjoy this concept so much! These are basically the stories I wanted to put in last time, but they needed their own chapter to truly shine.

I know people asked for Arthur and reader romance, but To Do Is To Dare has always been a racing fic first and romance second. I tried to add in all the people I could without going crazy with the plot line or it would have gotten out of hand (or more than it already is). There is a lot of Max and Charles (my two favorite boys on the grid).

If anyone has anything against Lestappen - there's the door :)

Please enjoy :)

Earth 33891

“Please stand for his Majesty King Max Emilian Verstappen, King of the Netherlands and Prince of Orange.” 

Max always hated these announcements. Like, why did they have to always say his middle name and all the titles that came with it? He put on a gentle smile and waved to the crowds around him. Thankfully, his dressers had decided to forgo the kingly robes and opted for a nice suit with his pins. Definitely fitting for the Dutch Grand Prix. 

This would be his ninth to attend since taking the throne at 18-years-old after his father passed away. The kind always enjoyed seeing the Orange Army at the home race. 

After greeting everyone, he was led to the special box. Apparently, more than one royal had decided to attend as well. Max’s shoulders loosened when his eyes landed on a familiar figure. 

“Charles!”

Charles Marc Herve Perceval Leclerc, The Sovereign Prince of the Principality of Monaco. Max was always glad that his mother only chose one middle name for him instead of three. 

The prince’s green eyes widened at the sight of the Dutchman. He waved off whoever he was speaking to and all but glided across the room. The two forwent the formalities and brought each other into a hug. 

Max leaned back a bit to look the Monegasque in the eye. 

“What are you doing here? Monaco not enough for you?” 

There was a playful glint in his eyes as Charles rolled his. The brunet gestured to a plush couch in the corner, one that Max was excited to sit in. 

Charles began to speak, a small smile on his face, “Well as you know, my brother is currently dating one of the drivers on the grid. And it is her home race so Arthur wanted to come watch.” 

Max nodded, understanding perfectly. He knew exactly who Charles was talking about.

Y/n L/n, the only female driver, who currently was working on her fourth World Champion.

“And where is your brother now?” 

“He’s in the garage,” Charles rolled his eyes. He had wanted to go, but an ambassador had insisted that he needed to talk to the prince. 

“Why don’t we head there. I always want to say hello to my race winner.” 

Now, Max and Y/n had a very loving sibling relationship. The king had watched her grow up karting and made sure to sponsor her and support her through her career. Without his support, the girl would not have been able to continue. Yet, when you put the royal Dutch crest on your Formula 3 car, someone has to know that it means something. 

This would be her 4th season in Red Bull, having been 19 when she joined in 2019. She was only 20 when she won her first World Championship, breaking the record for the youngest ever to dominate the sport. 

Now she was 24 and is on a path to win her fourth in only five races if she keeps up the winning streak. Max was only older by 3 years, yet he watched over her like a very protective older brother. 

He and Charles had made their way down to the pitlane, much to their advisors’ chagrin. They passed by the Mercedes garage to say hello to King Lewis Hamilton III and then George Russell, Duke of Sussex. The two Brits had been friends or well, colleagues, with the other two reigning monarchs for quite some time. They were currently backing Kimi Antonelli and Mick Schumacher, the current driver line up for Mercedes.

Right next to the silver garage stood a very orange and bright one. Max was excited to see Lando Norris, Duke of York also in attendance. He was very close with the two Aussie drivers, Oscar Piastri and Daniel Ricciardo. 

Down the line was Williams, who was attending to a very eager Logan Sargeant, the President of the United States’ kid. Max was fond of the blond and often said hello to him whenever he got the chance in diplomatic settings. 

But finally, they were able to reach the big navy garage. Max could definitely pick up Arthur’s almost French accent everywhere. But, his ears were tuned to the sound of your Dutch accent that was similar to his. 

“Geitje!” he called out, finding your blond hair against the navy racing suit. 

You looked over your shoulder, pausing the conversation with your boyfriend. You rolled your eyes when you saw Max in his kingly splendor. You took a few steps toward the fellow Dutch and gave him a hug. 

“I told you to quit calling me that. I’m not a kid anymore, or was never a goat for that matter.” 

Charles took this moment to catch up with his brother. 

Max looked down at you fondly. “You’ll always be that small kid whose suit was two sizes too big on her.” 

You honestly wanted to cry, but you kept the tears in. There was a race that you needed to win. 

“Are you going to give me my trophy this year?” 

“Don’t I every year?” 

You looked up in mock thought. “Well, there was that one year that you had appendicitis and your mom gave me my trophy.” 

Max lightly nudged you. “That was one year, let it go.” 

You grumbled. “Well I hope that someone won’t break my trophy this year.” 

Your teammate, Ollie Bearman, popped his head up from where he was looking at his tyres. 

“It was one year Y/n! One year!” 

You giggled at the disgruntled yells from the British Driver. Ollie had been one of your favorite teammates. 

Your first year, you were paired with the golden boy himself, Sebastian Vettel, before he retired with one last championship. And then your first year as world champion, you were paired with Oscar Piastri before he left for McLaren. Ollie had been your teammate for the past two years, but you had a feeling that he’d stick around for more than a year. 

You got the heads up that the race would be starting soon. You turned back to Max. 

“Are you staying here or do you have to go?” 

Max had a mischievous glint in his eyes and was about to reply before being interrupted. 

“Actually, their royal highnesses need to return to the royal box.” 

Max fought the urge to roll his eyes. You only laughed and pushed him in the direction of the exit. 

“Go, I’ll see you at the top.” 

“Blijf veilig, alsjeblieft,” Max softly pleaded. 

He really hated that you put your life on the line every weekend for the job that you loved. He remembers the first time you had a terrifying crash when you were unconscious until they got you to the hospital. He was told that you probably wouldn’t wake up. However, you defied the odds and were back in the seat for the next race. 

You responded, just as gentle, “Voor jou, mijn koning, altijd.” 

When Max left, he turned around one last time and witnessed you giving Arthur a quick kiss before he put your helmet on. It was something that the two of you had been doing since you started dating almost two years ago. 

The Dutch king was back to walking with Charles to the box. 

“So, when is he proposing.” 

He hadn’t expected an answer, but was surprised when he got one. 

Charles gave Max a look. “They’re actually going to a restaurant, and he plans to propose tonight.” 

Max’s eyes widened at the confession. But, he got over it quickly before gently smiling. You deserved happiness, and you found that in his closest friend’s brother. 

“So will she have to stop racing for royal duties?” the blond questioned. 

Charles shook his head. “Non. Arthur will step down.” 

Max clapped him on the back. “Guess you and Alexandra need to start with some heirs huh?” 

Charles squinted up at him. “Says the man who currently needs to propose as well.” 

The prince got the last laugh as he left Max stuttering for a comeback. 

You won the race like Max knew you would. The king watched as you held your head up high as the Dutch National Anthem played loudly through the crowds. He saw the crowds of orange, the only ones rivaling the red Tifosi at Monza. 

The crowds were shouting, “De Langverwachte! Onze kleine leeuw!” 

The Long Awaited. 

Their Little Lion. 

Max had always wished for a champion from his home country. Something to ode back to the sport he loved as a kid. His wish came true in the form of you. People talked as the king publicly backed the only female driver on the grid. But he knew that you were something special. He was there as you took the championship from Vettel in the last lap of the 2020 season fair and square. Obviously he was thankful that there was no safety car to ruin your race of any kind. You had coped brilliantly against your older teammate and your talent truly showed.

Max was given the signal to head out with the hand painted trophy. He was honestly kind of scared to drop it. But he made it across the stage and handed it out to you.

You proudly took the trophy from Max after you bowed in respect. He may have been your friend, but he was your king first. 

The ceramic trophy was held high once it was safely in your hands. Jokingly you hugged it tight as you gently stepped down off the podium. Ollie gawked at your childishness before spraying you with the champagne. 

With trophy set down a nice ways away, you took your own bottle. Except, instead of spraying Ollie, you pointed it at Max, whose jaw was on the floor as you came after him with the liquid. 

If you were having fun now, you wouldn’t expect what was coming later that night. 

And you said yes. 

Earth 12399

“Zusje!”

Your eyes widened at the familiar squeaky and young voice. You turned your whole body away from your race engineer to only be taken down in the knees. Once you were on the floor, you laps was immediately filled with a small body that had bleach blond hair and bright blue eyes. 

“Maxy, Ik heb je gemist Kleintje!” 

“Uh Y/n, is everything good?” Charles’s voice sounded from above. You stared back at your teammate in the red overalls. You grabbed under the child’s arms and hoisted him up along with yourself. 

“Yep! Charles meet Max. Max meet Charlie.” 

Max’s small eyes widened before he tucked himself in your neck. Your hand came up and rubbed his back as you cooed. You turned back to Charles. 

“He’s a bit shy in front of his favorite driver.” 

You poked Max’s side and his giggles filled the room. The small one turned his head and peered at the Monegasque whose eyes were wide, looking at the child in his teammate’s arms. 

“Didn’t know you had a kid.” 

Your jaw dropped at his statement. 

“He’s not my kid, idiot. He’s my brother,” you hissed, lightly bouncing Max up and down as you swayed side to side. 

“Oooohhhh.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah oh. I’m younger than you.” 

“One night stand?” 

“Charles!”

The brunet laughed loudly, making Max giggle a bit with him. You looked down into his blue eyes. 

“Oh so you think that’s funny hm? I’m getting bullied.” 

Max only giggled more before pointing at Charles. 

“Rari?” 

You lovingly stared at him in your arms. “Yep, Rari.” You saw how Charles was staring at Max. “You want to hold him?” 

Charles dropped everything (only his water bottle) and reached out to take Max. Once he was in Charles’s arms, Max immediately rested his head on his shoulder and gripped the red suit. You smiled fondly at the two. 

“He’s so small,” Charles whispered after seeing the kid’s eyes close in slumber. 

You ruffled the spiky blond hair. “Yeah, he’s only 3 though. Full of wonder.” 

“Y/n!” 

Ah, there was your mother. You looked over and saw Sophie walking with your other sister Victoria. Thankfully, your dad was nowhere to be found. After you found out what he had done to Max, you put in a restraining order against him immediately. 

It was a hard discussion with your mom when you told her that she needed to divorce him. Tears were shed and hearts were broken. But, you never wanted to see another bruise on your younger brother again. 

It was fine if he did that to you. But to Max? 

Jos wouldn’t stand a chance against your anger. He had shaped you to be like him. 

A racer. A winner. The best. 

But being the best wasn’t supposed to be the most important anymore. And if he wanted you to be like him, then he’ll get his own anger thrown back into his face. You remembered how your fist met his eye after you found Max alone with him one night. An ugly purple thing covered Max’s tiny wrist and there was a scratch on his face. 

You had just returned home from a triple header and wanted to surprise your family. Only, you came home to Max’s screams of terror and Jos Verstappen yelling. You didn’t think, you just did. Sophie and Victoria returned home to multiple police cars and an ambulance in front of the house. When they finally were told what happened, they found you covering Max’s body with your arms as you spoke to one of the paramedics. A blanket was draped around your shoulders and a bruise was forming on your face as well. 

After that, you moved your entire family to Monaco with you. Your house was plenty bit and you only shared it with Charles whenever he came over to play FIFA. But now, whenever he wanted to play, you insisted on going to his house. 

It might have been to protect your family. Or it might have had to do with a certain handsome brother that Charles had. 

Definitely the first one.   

Hence why Charles had never met Max beforehand. But that also didn’t stop the little gremlin from choosing Charles as his favorite driver and not his sister. 

It’s not like you were bitter or anything. 

You walked toward your family and gave the two women a hug. 

“I’m glad that you could come today!” you told them, truly happy at their arrival. It wasn’t like it was a big race. You had already won the championship last week, which sadly they weren’t able to make it. But Max was still up past his bedtime when you got home after. The kid sleepily muttered that he was glad you won, even though you had beaten Charles. Yet, you reminded him that Charles had won the year before and it was sissy’s turn. 

Sophie looked at Max in Charles’s arms. “He’s so comfortable. I honestly thought he’d be scared of men after what happened.” 

Victoria nodded in agreement. 

You crossed your arms. “I think that Max knows that dad wasn’t a good man. And well, he still loves Lando though.�� 

“Is that Max?” 

Speaking of. 

Max’s head jerked up from Charles’s shoulder at the familiar voice. His little head swerved in the direction of the papaya clad driver. 

“Lanno!” 

Max started to squirm in the captive arms. Charles quickly set him down, not wanting him to fall. Max immediately ran to the Briton, who picked him up with ease. At the sight of the two, Charles pouted. 

You knocked him with your shoulder. “Don’t’ worry, you’re still his favorite. He bought Max a toy McLaren for his birthday and Max demanded that I paint it red and add a 16 on the side.” 

Charles seemed to gleam with pride at the confession. 

“Don’t tell Lando though. He’d be devastated.” 

What Lando didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

“Hey little man. You ready to watch the race?” 

Max’s head bobbed quickly. 

“Are you going to watch Lanno win?” 

At that, Max shook his head making Lando’s eyes widened. 

“Little Verstappen I am hurt.” Lando clutched his hand to his heart in mock hurt. Max only stared at him while the McLaren driver put on a bit of a show. 

Charles piped up from beside you. “Max, is Charlie going to win?” 

Max, once again, shook his head. Now that made you confused, because Max always cheered for Charles. You cocked your head as you looked at your brother. 

“Then who Maxy?” 

The boy shyly pointed at you before muttering, “Zusje gaat jullie allemaal verslaan.” 

Not that made you laugh out loud, causing even more confusion to the two male drivers. You covered your mouth as you continued to laugh. Sophie and Victoria laughing as well. 

You smirked at your rival and teammate. 

“He said I’m going to kick your asses.” 

Max gasped as he heard your words. 

“Bad words!” 

Max pouted as he was put down by Lando. His little legs ran to you and his arms stretched out wanting you to pick him up. You squatted and scooped him up. Your arms tightened around him as he tried his best to hug you. 

“Sorry for the bad words kid.” 

“’S ok,” he slurred, getting even more tired. It was definitely his nap time. And it was time to get in your car. You handed him back to Sophie, who gave you a kiss on your head as you stooped. You gave a quick hug to Victoria before going back to kiss Max’s head. 

“I’ll win for you ok?” 

Obviously, he couldn’t hear you, but you would say it anyway. You turned away from your family to get ready. 

“Going soft on me L/n?” Lando quipped, making his way out of your garage. 

You discreetly flipped him off, to which he laughed at as he left. It took about 30 minutes to get in the car and get everything ready. You swerved your head, making sure the helmet was tight. Your eyes flitted about the garage and caught sight of your family again. Max was now wide awake and waving at you. 

Your gloved hand reached out and displayed your fingers wide. The little boy reached over in his mom’s arms and clapped your hand with his small one. You were given the signal that it was time and drove off once Sophie was out of the way. 

Her and Max watched as you rounded the corner in your red Ferrari, out of sight. 

Sophie leaned down and kissed her youngest’s head.

“Mijn baby, zal zus winnen?” 

Max’s small voice was just loud enough for her to hear. 

“Ja mama, sij is kampioen.” 

Earth 9596 

(btw - I made the max pic because no one has good edits of him in a ferrari suit)

“Scuderia Ferrari Signs Y/n L/n for the 2024 Season”

“Ferrari Mistake? The Formula 1 Team Signs the Youngest Driver to Date” 

“Ferrari Becomes the First Formula 1 Team to Sign Female Driver” 

“Former F1 Champion Lorenzo Alessandrino Backs Goddaughter as Her Race Engineer” 

“How Will Verstappen React to His Younger Teammate on the Track?” 

You hadn’t known what to expect when you arrived at the paddock first thing on Saturday morning. You had convinced Lorenzo to bring you early so you could at least avoid some of the crowds, if not all. However, it seemed like everyone else liked that plan as well, and the paddock was full. 

You hung back near Enzo as the two of you walked side by side. Your hands gripped your backpack straps hard, turning your knuckles almost stark white. Thankfully, your sunglasses kept your wide and scared eyes from the public. It wasn’t that you were scared of people. It’s what you thought that they thought about you that made you nervous. 

Just 17 and baby faced. 

Something that wasn’t heard of in 2024. Yet, with older drivers retiring back and forth, the FIA had to make new changes to deal with the need of rookie drivers. Hence why Lorenzo pushed to have Ferrari sign you as early as possible. You basically went from karting, to Formula 2 and didn’t even start your second season. 

It came as a shock when Lewis Hamilton finally retired after only one year at Ferrari. You had thought that he’d want to get one more championship to make it to 9. But, life throws curveballs and it was headed straight to you. 

Now you had to face your new teammate, a champion himself, Max Verstappen. You let out a sigh of relief when you noticed that he was talking to Charles Leclerc and Fernando Alonso. The two black Mercedes polos stood out in contrast to Max’s red one. You took a quick glance at the two drivers and realized that they were already watching you. 

Your cheeks heated up as you quickened your steps to get to the garage faster. Once you were in the safety of the garage, you let out a deep sigh. 

Lorenzo looked at you with a sad smile. He knew you were going to be overwhelmed for the entire day. He took his backpack off and reached down in, fingers feeling for your headphones. He took them out and handed them to you. 

You immediately put them on, connected them to your phone, turned on the music, and got to work on your racing journal. You wanted to go over your notes before the race. While you were distracted, Enzo took a little walk, trying to find some coffee. 

He ended up walking past the group of three drivers and smiled at Charles. The Italian knew of him growing up and was excited to see him in a team that gave him a good championship winning car. 

He nodded his head toward your new teammate. “Max.” 

Max’s eyes lightened at the familiar face. “Enzo!” 

The two bro-hugged before parting, letting Enzo greet the two Merc drivers. When he was done, Max had a teasing attitude. 

“Can’t convince you to stay as my engineer? Don’t get me wrong, I love GP, but you knew me better.” 

Enzo smiled and shook his head. “No can do. Gotta take care of my kid.” 

Fernando entered the conversation. “Where is she? We saw her walking but then she disappeared.” 

The older man scratched his head. “Yeah, she tends to do that. She’s a bit nervous.” 

Charles scoffed. “I’ll say. They shouldn’t have said anything until Wednesday. Sky Sports announced it way too early.” 

The Monegasque had something similar happen to him when he first joined Mercedes. It had all been planned that he would take Valtteri Bottas’s seat mid-season. Yet, Sky Sports announced it before Mercedes had a chance to even say that Bottas had wanted to retire early due to an illness. The media had made Charles into a seat-stealing villain his first season. 

The engineer nodded sadly. “I think she’s also nervous about the team.” 

Max looked at him with a shocked expression. “The team?” 

Enzo waved his hands. “She has full confidence. Y/n’s a bit nervous about trying to be on your level Max.” 

Well, that didn’t settle well with the Dutchman. Great, he was excited to have such a young teammate: someone who he could get along with and help them grow in the sport. But now, you were afraid of him? 

“She’s not scared of you Max, just nervous.” 

Oh. He said that out loud. 

Max glanced back at the garage. “Can I go talk to her.” 

Enzo nodded before handing him a pen. “I forgot to give this to her, she’ll be looking for it. You don’t mind giving it to her right?” 

“Not at all,” he responded, thankful for something that could break the ice between the two of you. 

Max grasped the pen and made his way to the overly bright red garage. He really wished Ferrari would take a page out of Mercedes’s book and make everything black. But no, they had to show off the corsa rosso red. 

You were too busy writing some notes down, with the wrong pen, to notice Max’s shoes now in your line of sight. The Dutchman lightly nudged your own shoe, which had your head jerking up to look at him. 

Your eyes widened and your hands reached to pull your headphones off. 

Max only smiled down at you. He thought that you looked like a scared mouse. He wondered if you were quiet like one as well. 

“Mind if I sit?” he asked. 

You could only shake your head no and scoot over as Max sat down on the concrete near you. The two of you sat in silence as you continued to scribble. Max suddenly remembered the pen in his hand. 

“Here. Enzo wanted me to give this to you.” 

Your fingers lightly touched his as you grabbed it from him. 

To Max, you also reminded him of his sister at this age. Shy, meek, quiet. But he had seen your videos and your impressiveness on the track. Your overtakes were nothing to be overlooked. He heard you sigh as the pen now nicely glided over the pages. 

The Dutchman let his eyes wander over the pages. He noticed that you were even taking notes on him as well.

You didn’t look at him, but you spoke, “If you break a bit later on turn 4, you can cut off another tenth.” 

Your voice gave Max whiplash as he wasn’t expecting you to talk to him without being prompted. His mind ran as he tried to remember turn 4. When he did the calculations he was surprised to find that you were correct. 

“How did you..” 

“I watched your onboards from last season. You’re very, what’s the word,” you gave him a smirk, “predictable.” 

Max’s jaw dropped, which caused you to laugh a bit. Max, although shocked, was glad that you were coming out of your shell a bit. 

He leaned over to whisper, “Are you overwhelmed with the red as much as I am.” 

You smiled as you whispered back, “It is positively draining. Why can’t they do black like Mercedes?” 

Max threw his hands up. “That’s what I’ve been saying.” 

You pretended to think. “What if we gang up on them. They can’t resist both drivers.” 

Max put on a weird accent, making his voice higher. “It’s either change the garage and everything to black or we walk.” 

That made you snort which caused Max to wheeze. 

Enzo was just on his way back with two coffees (both for him) when he heard the sound of you laughs mixed with Max’s. He smiled fondly at the two drivers. He took a sip before putting on his bright red headphones that he needed for qualifying. He coughed a bit, but it was soon over. Nothing like the sickness that he barely beat back in 2019. He was thankful that he got to continue to watch you grow. 

Max asked, “How far do you think you’ll get in qualifying?” 

You thought for a moment. “Uh, I hope to make it to Q2 if possible.”

The Dutchman lifted his hand to ruffle your hair. Your hands swatted at him as you pouted. 

“I think you can get farther.” 

You only shrugged. “We’ll see.” 

The car was definitely your safe space. You felt as though you could finally breathe easier. 

“Radio check please.” 

“Loud and clear Enzo.” 

“Ok, let’s get this bread.” 

You shook your head as you sat in the car. “Please never say that again.” 

Much to your and the team’s delight, you made it past Q1 and Q2. And you ended Q3 in the second row in P3. Max had just missed pole by mere hundredths. Charles Leclerc always had scarily good one lappers in the third session. 

Max gave you a giant hug at the end of the session, very glad at your positioning. 

As he had his arms around you, he thought to himself. 

“Yeah. You were going to be great.” 

Earth 331649 

The big letters stood out to Max as his eyes began to water. 

“Not Applicable for Adoption at this Time” was all the top said. He hadn’t bothered to read the rest. He knew what it was going to say. It’s what every letter said for the past few months. 

They weren’t approved. 

They traveled too much. 

There weren’t any in their preferred age group that were adoptable right now. 

They wouldn’t be able to take care of a baby. 

They were…Max didn’t even want to mention the word. 

He glanced at the gold band that adorned his ring finger on his left hand. The sight made his eyes water more. The paper was quickly crumpled and thrown to the side. The Dutchman leaned forward and put his hands over his face and just sobbed. 

They had been trying for so long. The conversation had started two years ago as they lied in bed one night. They were nearing the ends of their careers, but they hadn’t wanted to wait until they were retired. They were sure in their marriage enough to where they both could handle a baby in their lives. 

A mini them running around, playing with Jimmy and Sassy. The thought was too much to bear right now though. 

The door clicked but Max hadn’t heard, he just continued to sob. 

“Amore, I’m back from the shop. They had the pastries that you really liked. Amore?”

Max started sobbing harder. Before he heard knew it, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders. He heard a big sigh as a head rested against his back. 

“Another one?” 

Max didn’t even reply, but his sobs had subsided into quiet sniffles. Charles glanced over at the crumpled paper that had been tossed to the side. He’s told Max time and time again to wait until he gets home to read them, but the older was always a bit too excited or anxious to wait. He bit his tough, not wanting to say anything that could upset the Dutchman even more. 

“It will be all right.” 

“Will it?” Max bit back, full of sadness and anger. But, it wasn’t anger at Charles. He was angry at the world. 

“It will,” Charles hummed. However, the Monegasque was also getting run down by all the rejection letters. He didn’t know how much more he could take. But, he wanted to be strong for Max. For himself. For their hopeful future child. 

“Every time Charlie. Every time, it’s always a different excuse.” 

“Our time will come.” 

“But what if it doesn’t? We aren’t getting any younger Charles.” 

The Monegasque harshly inhaled. He stopped rubbing Max’s back. Although, he really didn’t know when he started. 

He went to say something, yet his phone rang loudly, breaking the silence of the room. Charles muttered something about wanting to hang up, but his breath hitched at the sight of the name at the top of his phone. His thumb had never pressed the answer button. 

He quickly put the call on speaker. 

“Bonjour?”

“Ah, Mr. Verstappen?”  

“This is he.” 

“Is your husband here with you?” 

Max perked up at the question. His eyes were bloodshot, but he was now paying attention. He scooted even closer to Charles, face almost in the phone. 

Charles chuckled at Max’s closeness. 

“Oui, he is here.” 

“Ok, so we just got a call from the Princess Grace Hospital. We think you want to come here for this.” 

Max gulped before whispering. “It is what we think it is?” 

Charles held his breath as he and Max waited for the answer. 

“Why don’t you come find out.”

The two of them could hear the playfulness as the their adoption agent hung up the phone. They looked into each other’s eyes before they dashed around, getting their shoes on. Max almost tripped as he hopped on one foot, his shoe getting caught on his finger. Charles chuckled as he bent to tie his own shoe. 

Max was halfway out the door, still waiting. 

“Come on Charlie.”

“Mon amore, are you forgetting something?” 

Max patted his pockets and realized he forgot the key that were now dangling on Charles’s finger. 

“Oh.” 

Charles rolled his eyes as he walked toward the door, grabbing Max’s waste as he walked. The Dutchman quickly followed him to the Monegasque’s Ferrari Purosangue. He bought the SUV when he and Max put in their first adoption profile. 

Max huffed as he noticed that Charles was going below the speed limit. 

“Baby, can you maybe, hurry up?” 

Charles only hummed as a reply. He did step on the gas a bit, but the Monaco speeds were slow as it. It wasn’t their fault that they drove ridiculously fast cars and his husband was currently high strung. 

Charles put his hand on Max’s thigh and started to rub small circles, which in the long run did help Max calm down a bit. 

The Dutchman had calmed down some by the time they parked in front. Charles started to get out of the car, but Max’s hand grabbed his arm before he got far. Charles recognized the look of fear on his husband’s face. His pointer finger found the golden band on Max’s finger and started to rub it. 

“What if- What if- What if it happens again.” 

Charles’s eyes drooped a bit at the sadness in Max’s voice. 

“But what if it doesn’t?” 

A glimmer of hope came back to Max’s eyes as he places a chaste kiss on Charles’s lips. 

“Let’s go.”

With an unbuckle of his seatbelt, Max was out the door. Charles had to catch up to Max’s larger steps. His hand soon found Max’s as they walked in. He squeezed three times, and got three in return. 

Charles look the lead as they approached the front desk. The lady at the computer had a nice attitude as she gave them a smile when she looked up from her screen. 

“May I help you gentlemen?” 

“Ah, yes, my husband and I got a call from our adoption agent, Mitch Walker.” 

The lady’s eyebrows raised as she started to type on her computer once again. Max bounced in his place, willing the lady to type faster. 

“Ah, floor three, room 89.” 

“Thank you,” Charles stated, already watching Max walk toward the elevator. He chuckled as he slowly followed, knowing the elevator would arrive when he got there. Inside the contraption, Max read the list of floors. 

His finger traced them until he got to the third floor. 

“Charlie.”

Charles looked where his finger had landed. 

Delivery floor.

Before Charles could react, the elevator doors opened. They both bolted into the hallway. 

86. 

87. 

88. 

89. 

They both paused in front. 

“Ready?” 

“Ready.” 

Charles grabbed the nob and slowly twisted. The room was a bit dim and Mitch was standing in the middle of the room. She turned at the sound of the door and a smile made a way on her face. 

“Hi guys,” she whispered. She stepped closer and pulled a curtain that cut the room in half. 

“Hi,” Charles replied, also whispering. 

Mitch put her hands together. “So, we have a little someone who was given up today. If everything goes well, you two might be going home with a baby today.” 

Tears welled up in Max’s eyes at her words. He choked down a sob and bit his knuckle.

“I just need you two to wash your hands and then you can meet her.” 

Charles whispered, “Her?” 

Mitch only nodded. 

This time, Charles was the one to let out a small sob. They gingerly walked over to the sink, hands bumping into each other as they rinsed under the water. Once dry, Mitch dragged the curtain back over. 

In the middle of the smaller section near a couch, lied a bassinet. With bated breath, Charles and Max peered over. Tears now welling in both their eyes. Max’s finger gently moved towards the baby’s face. 

He lightly grazed the soft cheek, causing the baby to squirm. Max had never jerked his hand away from something faster. Charles let out a small and quiet laugh. The baby’s hand was open, inviting Charles to put his finger in the tiny palm. 

The baby suddenly curled her fingers around the one finger, eyes suddenly opening. The Dutchman wanted to cry once again. Her green eyes peered up at him. Max’s eyes caught a tuft of hair and he gently pulled back the tiny hat. Blond hair appeared in a small bit. He gently pulled the hat back into place. 

His blond hair. 

Charles’s green eyes. 

Charles turned to Mitch. 

“Can I hold her.” 

A single nod had Charles scooping the baby in his arms, and he placed her on his chest. His body leaned back just a bit to accommodate her. Max immediately took his phone out and took a picture. He was definitely going to use that as his lock screen picture from now on. 

Max watched as Charles sat on the small couch in the corner. Max followed suit and sat next to him. 

The baby was looking right at him. 

“Hello little one,” he whispered, finding the courage to graze her face once again. A small smile appeared on the girl’s face, but it was short lived. But, Max had seen it and he was happy that it was directed at him. 

“-ax, Amore.”

His eyes shot up to Charles’s face. 

“Yes?” 

The brunet rolled his eyes. “I asked: Do you want to hold her?�� 

Max could only nod. Charles gently handed her over to his husband and watched as his big hands cradled the baby. One hand was gently placed on her bum and the other on her head. He cooed at the man and baby, seeing tears stream down his face. 

Mitch quietly approached the couple. “So, it seems like everything is going well. I can almost read your minds and I got your application approved. It’ll take a while for everything to come in but you are good to take her home.” 

Charles stood and gave her a giant hug: big enough for the both of them. She patted Charles’s back before grinning widely again. 

“You know, she doesn’t have a name yet.” 

Max’s head whipped from the baby to the woman. 

“We get to name her?” he questioned, heart filling with so much love. There were so many names that he and Charles had picked out. The first name would be something special, something not used before. The middle names would be in honor of loved ones past and present. And then, the baby would take both last names. 

Mitch came over with a certificate and pen in hand. 

“Do you two know or do you need a moment?” 

Max nodded at Charles and then looked back down at the beautiful green eyes that stared up with him. 

Charles did the honors. 

“Her name is Y/n Julia Sophie Pascale Antoinette Leclerc-Verstappen.” 

Little Y/n. Oh how the world wasn’t ready. But it would welcome her with open arms.

Earth 959589 

“Shit!” you yelled, tumbling out of bed. You were late, oh you were so late. Max was going to kill you and you could say goodbye to your seat. 

Before the season even started. 

You tripped as you pulled on a shoe, face planting back into the bed. Your phone was currently blowing up with notifications as it rested on the side table. You hastily pulled on your Red Bull polo and grabbed your jeans. Your foot got stuck since you put your shoes on first. 

Great move Y/n, great move. 

You finally got a hand on your phone and answered the call. 

“Where are you? Max is close to having an aneurism,” your race engineer hissed through the phone.  

“I know Charles, but my alarm never went off!” 

Your head was pressing your phone to your shoulder as you talked and walked toward the elevator. 

“Just please get here ASAP,” he sighed. You could see the man rubbing his eyebrows, even if you couldn’t see him. 

“I’m getting in the car now.” 

“You better be thankful. I’ll see you here.” 

When you arrived to the paddock, you went directly to the interviews, which you were late for as well. You winced as you walked in front of everyone and sat down, face ablaze in red. 

Lando poked your side. At least he went with the polo so you two could be matching some. He leaned over when a question was directed to Arthur. 

“Max is going to kill you.” He smirked as he leaned away. Your microphone accidentally picked up the smack to his shoulder. Some eyes landed on you as you tried to duck away. 

Arthur looked over at you. “Nice of you to join us champ.” 

You shrugged. “My alarm didn’t go off.” 

“Sure.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse you?” 

Before you could get any farther, a journalist asked a question directed toward you. 

“Y/n, if I may, how is this season a bit different than last?” 

Your eyes looked up as you thought of a good answer. “Uh, well, there was a lot of change within Red Bull this past winter break. My old teammate went to being my team principal. And then he somehow convinced Charles to join as well and be my race engineer.” 

A scoff came from Arthur that cause you to lean to look at him. 

“Are you all right Leclerc?” 

The Monegasque rolled his eyes. 

“I would like to have my brother back please.” 

“Well, too bad I got him first. And then back to my question. Lando became my teammate and he’s giving me a run for my money.” 

Lando smirked at that statement. 

“Ah yes, the cheeky little bugger he is. But, I’m really on track for my second championship. Maybe next year I’ll let Lando get one.” 

The journalist thanked you for your good answer.

Fortunately the press conference ended after that. Yet, it was unfortunate for you since you could feel Max’s glare from miles away. You stopped, causing Arthur to bump into your back. 

“Any chance I can come hide in your driver’s room?” 

Arthur shook his head yes, giving you some hope. 

“No.” 

You visibly deflated as you watched him walk toward the bright red garage. 

A sigh left your lips as you stalked toward the garage. Charles gave you a sympathetic look as you walked past. His hand rubbed your shoulder until he gently pushed you toward Max. You winced under the Dutchman’s glare. 

“My office Y/n.” 

You could only follow him into the office. You took the first seat you passed in front of the large desk. Max rubbed his eyebrows and sighed. But, you panicked. 

“I’m so sorry Max. I swore I turned on my alarms last night, but I was up late going over data again because I can’t let the team down again like last race. I know that I can make up the speed. And then my phone was on silent and then I tripped on my shoe and the car got stuck in traffic. I swear I went straight to the conference. I won’t be late again I promise, just please don’t take away my seat.” 

Max watched in horror as you lost your composure right in front of him. This monologue only told him that you were truly scared that he’d kick you off the team because of a little DNF last race. His heart dropped as he saw tears stream down your face as you visibly shook. 

He stood up quickly and rounded the desk. His hands dropped on your shoulders. 

“Kid, kid. Listen to me. You’re not going to lose your seat. I was just worried when you didn’t show up and when you didn’t answer mine or Charles’s calls.” 

“Oh.” 

Max wanted to laugh. “Yes, oh. Do you remember all the times I used to show up late? The times that Charles showed up late as well?” 

You let out a chuckle as you remembered both Ferrari drivers would show up a bit late. No one ever seemed to mind. You let out a sigh of relief. 

Max stood up and walked toward the door. “Now, let’s go out there and what do we do?” 

“Kick names and take ass!” 

Max rolled his eyes. “Sure kid. Sure.” 

Earth 1218 - Present Earth   

You gasped as you sat up in your bed. 

“Kid?” Max questioned, head popping up from the couch. Vegas had been super early again and you and Max didn’t want to go back to the hotel when you had FP2 soon. So, the two of you just curled up in his driver’s room. His voice was groggy as he had just gotten up from an interrupted nap as well. 

You clutched your head and groaned. 

“I had such weird dreams.” 

“Oh. Tell me?” Max’s head was already back down on his pillow. 

“You were a king, and then you were my younger brother?” 

Max snorted but let you continue. He knew that you wouldn’t remember in the morning anyway. 

“And then you were my teammate at Ferrari and Charles drove for Mercedes, Enzo was there. Oh, and then you and Charles were married.” 

“Kid you have been watching too many Lestappen edits on Twitter and TikTok.” 

You only grumbled. 

“I do not. Finally you were my team principal.” 

“Strange. Go back to sleep.” 

Max never got an answer back, because you were already zonked. He chucked and turned back over, phone clenched in his hand as he watched the edit of Charles’s 2022 sunset lap into his 2023 pre-storm qualification. However, he didn’t know that his volume was so loud. 

“He was sunshine, I was midnight rain…And I could see it all in my mind…” 

“I KNEW IT! YOU WATCH THEM TOO!” 

“GO TO SLEEP!” 

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#f1 x driver!reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #platonic grid x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #formula 1 x you #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #alex albon x reader #fernando alonso x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader #across every universe #f1 au #to do is to dare fic #lestappen #formula 1 x reader #or any universe for that matter #formula one x reader #formula 1 edition #formula 1 imagine #different dimension #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #formula 1

[yelena-belovas-gun]

Overworked (Natasha Romanoff)

Summary: You end up working a little too much.

Natasha Romanoff x fem!engineer!reader

Warnings: Overworking, tension, stress, anxiety, sickness, fever.

Requested by the following bao bun: @splat-tasha

Translations: 1. Detka: baby 2. Malyshka: baby girl 3. Dorogoy: darling 4. Moya lyubov: my love

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Honestly, working with S.H.I.E.L.D was very well paying, well-rewarding, and worth all the effort you put into it. You loved building things for the agents, coming up with new designs for weapons and bringing them up from graphite on paper into metal on gunpowder.

Natasha had to admit, though...you overdid it sometimes. You'd sometimes lose days of sleep over some new variation of a weapon, or while repairing a broken jet. Now, the bags under your eyes had pretty much become your personal accessory.

"Detka, please, don't overwork yourself..." she'd mutter against your hair as she cuddled your tired body after you'd finally let yourself rest.

"I won't, darling, I swear..." you'd mumble, but it would end up being a lie within the next two days, maximum.

This time, it went a little too far.

The entire day, you'd shown small signs that you were slowly falling sick from the amount you were working. Starting with your sudden loss of appetite, to blinking for a few seconds longer than any normal person would deem healthy.

"L/n, I need this ray gun fixed, asap," one of the agents said, handing you the said weapon. You shook your head to clear your foggy senses and nodded, taking it.

Later that day, Fury called you to his office and described a new kind of weapon they'd need for a stealth mission, and of course, you agreed to have the prototype ready within three days.

"Hey, Y/n, can you fix my pistols?" Maria asked you after that interaction, handing you a box. "For some reason, the safety isn't coming on on either of them since my niece messed with them, and I cannot have guns without a safety lock in the house..."

"N-no issue, Keya..." you mumbled, addressing her by the wrong name in your tiredness.

"Keya?" she raised a brow.

"Shit, sorry, I meant Maria..." you apologised, embarrassed. "I'm a bit tired, sorry. I'll have the guns fixed by tomorrow, no issue."

She smiled and thanked you, walking away.

You continued to walk around and work like a corpse, and felt the need for several cups of very strong coffee throughout the course of the day.

Natasha felt her gut telling her something was wrong, and decided to go and check on you.

And thank every merciful god that she did.

You were a mess, your workshop was like a hurricane hit it and it then got ransacked by an army of wild cats.

Nuts and bolts littered the floor, pages were scattered across two worktables joined together, grease stained the floor, and a concerning number of coffee cups were strewn around.

She heard the buzzing of a soldering iron and saw you at a worktable which had some of the surface visible. Your hands, which were normally so steady, were trembling, and you looked like you wanted to pass out as you fixed the safety lock of Maria's guns.

You got a phone call, and didn't notice Nat as you answered it, putting it on speaker.

"Hey, Y/n, it's Phil. Coulson," came the voice from the other line. "So, um, I know you fixed my car earlier this week, but I got into a bit of a scuffle...the engine's not starting up and I think I screwed up the oil tank while I was at it cause this bugger won't fill up at all."

You exhaled heavily, putting a grease-stained, and shockingly blistered hand to your forehead, making another black mark appear on your skin. "I'll come over tomorrow to look at it, Dave."

"...Dave? What the hell?" His voice sounded confused and irritated, making you click your tongue in annoyance and sigh.

"I'm sorry, that's the thirdtimetoday..." you muddled your words together as well, making him as you to repeat. "I said it's the third time I've messed up someone's name."

"No problem, just can you fix it?" He asked.

"Yeah," you bade him goodbye and cut the call, going over to your whiteboard, where an array of tasks and their deadlines were listed out.

Natasha was horrified to see how many of them were marked for each day.

"Y/n, what the fuck?" Natasha gasped, seeing your hand shake and seeing you screw up Phil's name spelling on the board thrice.

You turned around and gripped the edge of a chair for support. You had a headache, and now were too dizzy to stand.

"O-oh...h-hi, Tasha..." you smiled at her.

"Don't you 'hi Tasha' me, idiot!" She stormed over to you, but nevertheless took your greasy hand in hers tenderly. "Detka, you are so overworked..." she felt how cold your hands were and immediately checked your temperature.

Fever.

"And you have a fever!" She gasped, "Why didn't you tell me you were sick!?"

"I'm not sick...am I?" Your eyes widened as you looked at the board, panicking. "No, no, no, I can't fall sick! I have so many things to give by tomorrow!"

"Y/n," Natasha's voice was scarily firm as she held you in place, forcing you to look into her eyes. "I am taking you home, and you will rest, or else."

"But Tasha..." you whined, but she was having non of it.

"Moya lyubov, moya dorogoya," she sighed, petting your hair and speaking as if you were a five year old, "You need rest, otherwise you'll fall sicker. Now, go and wait in the car."

"...yes, Tasha..." you mumbled like a five year old, and walked off.

Natasha was like an angry mama bear as she stormed into Nick Fury's office.

"Nicholas Fury, how dare you run Y/n to such levels of exhaustion that she's fallen sick!" She exclaimed, seething. "She has a fever, she is literally stumbling around and surviving on unhealthy amounts of caffeine, and is mixing up people's names! How dare you treat her like a machine! she fixes machines, doesn't mean she is one!"

Fury sighed and remained calm in the face of the livid assassin. "Please, tell Y/n to keep her projects on hold, and that she has nothing to worry about because we will pay for this sick leave. Happy?"

"Very. Now if I ever see this happen again, I will commit murder, and it will be yours." She turned on her heel and stalked off, back to the car where you were.

She got into the driver's seat and kept you nicely warm in her jacket, till you both got home.

"Now, malyshka, please rest," she kissed your forehead and smiled after she'd tucked you into bed.

"Thank you, Tasha..." you mumbled. she lay beside you and gently stroked your hair, stopping after you fell asleep, and cuddled you to recovery.

Maybe overworking had it's own perks...

THE END.

#natasha romanoff #shield #natasha romanoff x reader #femreader #engineer!y/n #wlw #bisexual #lesbian

[halsteadlover]

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Will Halstead x Female!Reader.

• Requested by @klovesreading: I was wondering if you could do a story where the reader is married to Will but is a detective with Jay and is really close with Jay. But one day a case goes bad and the reader gets shot and almost dies and just a lot of angst but the reader survives in the end!

• Warnings: mention of blood, drugs, gunshots, tiny bit of angst and swearing.

• Word count: 5018.

• A/N: this is my first Will Halstead fic and it’s ugly as fuck, I don’t like one bit how it turned out 😭 you can actually notice I didn’t want to write anything else but I know if I kept going it would’ve ended up being so much longer than this so here is this piece of shit. I hope you’ll like it anyway but please bear with me 😭 comment, like and reblog if you want. I love you all so much ❤️

You, Will and Jay had been good friends for as long as you could remember.

The three of you grew up in the same neighborhood, your families being friends for a very long time. They were like big brothers to you or, at least, only one of them was.

You never managed to hide the crush you had on the redhead since you were a teenager, no one missed this detail – not even Jay who never wasted time teasing you about your crush on his brother – only Will seemed to not to see it.

You spent years of your adolescence and youth pining for him, trying to suppress your feelings knowing he didn't feel the same. You tried to move on, you had some boyfriends but it always ended the same way: you leaving them because you could never completely get Will out of your head. And as time passed you had resigned yourself to it, accepting you’d never be anything other than best friends.

There was a time when the three of you drifted apart, Will had gone to medical school, Jay had joined the army and left to go overseas and you spent a lot of time training to get in the police academy.

But fate really seemed to work in wonderful ways.

You thought you’d never reconnect with the Halstead brothers again but this was proven wrong when one day you met Jay at the police academy. You were a patrol cop with about two years of experience and he had just joined the Chicago PD after returning from his mission overseas.

And just like that you learned that Will had recently returned to Chicago and started working at Med's. It was as if time had never passed for the three of you, returning to having the deep bond that had united you since childhood.

But just as you thought your love for Will had somehow passed, it was enough for you to spend just a day with him to understand those deep feelings had never faded and that Will would forever be in your heart.

As time passed though, Will realized he was starting to look at you differently, continually craving your company. He didn't know when it happened or how it happened but he found himself inexorably losing his mind for you, in a way that shouldn't have happened with his best friend.

So for an amount of time you found yourselves lusting for each other from afar without either of you growing any balls and confessing your feelings.

The turning point came when the morning after spending a night at the bar and drinking too many shots and cocktails, you woke up in Will's bed with only a sheet covering your body. You were both too drunk the night before to remember what had happened but that blurry sexual encounter didn’t only happen once.

In fact after this rendezvous, it was as if a magnetic force attracted both of you and no matter how much you both fought it, one way or another you ended up having sex at one or the other's house.

Jay's teasing was pure torture as he could see from miles away that something really had happened between the two of you.

It was Will who confessed his love first, in the grip of emotions and no longer able to pretend you were just friends with benefits for even a second. You told him it took him a long time and that you loved him madly too, and the rest was history.

So here you were several years later, married to the love of your life and living the fairy tale you've always dreamed about.

“Babe please…” you sighed, eyes half closed as his lips worked their magic on that particular spot on your neck. You had to go to work but that seemed to take a backseat as your mind was completely dazzled by the hurricane that was your husband.

His arms wrapped around your hips and his hands went down to your ass, which they squeezed and groped without any shame. That made you sigh as you wrapped your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through his soft hair and pulling it lightly.

“Fuck,” he hissed, making him lose the last bit of control he had in his body and you grinned knowing how much he liked it when you pulled his hair. Before you could say or do anything, his lips had captured yours in a deep, passionate kiss as you took slow steps towards the bed

You both fell onto the mattress, bouncing slightly and you both let out a laugh before kissing again, him on top of you. It didn't take long for both of you to undress and throw all your clothes on the floor, losing yourself inexorably in each other.

Needless to say, you arrived at Intelligence incredibly late, thanking all the angels in heaven when you realized Voight hadn't arrived yet by the time you entered the unit.

“Why were you late?” Jay asked as soon as you arrived, handing you a cup of coffee he had set aside for you. He only had to look at you for his question to be answered, the stupid smile on your lips clearer than sunlight. “Actually never mind, don't answer. You're disgusting.“

“Hey! First of all you asked and second, go talk to your brother, he’s always so insatiable,” you replied with the sole purpose of annoying the younger Halstead. You succeeded in your aim when an expression of pure disgust and horror appeared on his face.

“You make me sick I don't want to know about you having sex with my brother for God's sake!” He exclaimed as you continued to laugh out loud.

You and Jay were now detectives and members of the Intelligence Unit for quite some time and as luck would have it, Voight even assigned you as partners. It was great to work with a friendly face, to have someone to deal with all the shit that humanity presented, to be there for each other when the other felt like everything was too hard to handle.

You and Jay continued to have a little banter but that little idyllic moment was interrupted when Voight entered the unit with Sergeant Platt and from their expressions you immediately understood they didn’t bring any good news.

Badly cut drug was circulating through the Chicago streets, causing numerous overdose victims, and there was pressure to get this case solved immediately.

Something told you this case would take much longer than necessary, so you took advantage of every free moment to text Will and update him on the evolution of the situation.

Will was afraid he’d be committed to Dr. Charles' psych ward sooner or later due to the stress your and Jay's job brought him.

He couldn't help but feel the anxiety eating his stomach up every time you told him you had some kind of field operation to do. It was a horrible feeling, having no idea what was going on out there, not being able to protect you or his brother if something horrible happened.

Every single day was a prayer. He prayed you both would come home safely, he prayed he could hug you both again at the end of each shift.

He tried not to give too much weight to his paranoid thoughts and convince himself it was only his sense of protection speaking. You and Jay were more than capable of defending yourselves even in dangerous situations, Will knew that, but that didn't make it any easier.

Many times he had wondered why neither you nor Jay had opted for a safer career, so he wouldn't risk a heart attack every time you left the house. You could’ve been teachers, or cooks, coaches, anything, but no, you both had to choose one of the most dangerous professions in the world. And so he didn't have to worry about his wife or just his brother's, but both.

His heart could only bear it to a certain extent.

And that day was no different when you texted him you and Jay were on your way to question a suspect.

Knowing you were in the district would calm him down a little since you were safe there, but knowing you were both out there with the risk of dying just around the corner was pure torture.

“How much you wanna bet he’ll run away as soon as he sees us?” You asked Jay as you got out of the car and walked towards the driveway of the house where the suspect was supposed to be. He wasn't directly involved with the drugs but, after the team started the investigations, you discovered he knew who was indeed involved and both you and Jay were determined to find out who that person was.

“Nah I pass, I know for sure this will happen so let’s just get ready to do some running,” he replied and you laughed before knocking twice loudly on the door.

“Chicago PD! Open up!” You exclaimed and you and Jay waited a few moments in which there was nothing but silence.

Jay moved away from the door and went to the window to check if there was actually anyone inside and you knocked again with two more loud thuds. “Open the door we just want to talk!”.

What happened was so quickly you wouldn't have been able to tell it if someone had asked you.

The suspect you were supposed to question – a guy in his mid-twenties – opened the door but you had your guard down so you couldn’t react as quickly as you wished. You saw him hold the gun and point it at you, you had tried as quickly as possible to take your gun from its holster but before you could do so a shot had already been fired and a bullet had already passed through your abdomen.

As you said, everything happened quickly.

The bullet shot immediately triggered Jay who quickly pulled out his gun and only then realized with pure horror you had been shot.

Before he could attempt to shoot the suspect, the bastard had already run away at the speed of light even if at that moment Jay didn't care.

He ran towards you and picking you up he dragged you away from the porch of that house, not wanting to run the risk that someone else might shot at you, and he carried you behind your car.

“Hey, hey, hey it's okay, don’t move. Everything's going to be okay, you hear me Y/n? You’ll be fine,” He tried to reassure you, to no avail as you had a bullet in your abdomen and were bleeding profusely, before immediately calling for help as panic coursed through his veins.

You were still shocked even as you lifted your head for the asphalt and saw your wound bleeding more than it should have. You tried to cover it with your hands but Jay did it for you, after taking a jacket he had in the car and pressing it to the wound.

“Shit,” you hissed. The pain was excruciating, even if the adrenaline helped to dull the sensation a little. A flood of emotions overwhelmed you, panic, fear, confusion. Your eyes looked around frantically as if to try to convince your mind you were still alive, that everything was going to be okay.

“Help is on the way Y/n, please hold on okay? You’ll be fine I’m sure,” Jay continued to babble, more to himself than to you.

“It-it hurts…” you stuttered, closing your eyes for a few moments as you felt your heart pounding in your chest.

“Hey, hey, hey, don't you dare fall asleep, just hang on for a minute. Please… Everything will be fine...“ he kept repeating.

But his voice began to reach your ears far away. That warm, burning sensation coursing through your abdomen was starting to fade and the weakness was instead starting to take over you. You were fighting so hard to try and stay awake, even though you were in that state you knew this didn’t mean anything good.

“Y/n!” Suddenly you heard Jay's voice and your eyes widened. You didn't even realize you had closed them.

“Jay can you believe…” you winched “Can you believe for just one second I will live?” You continued trying to smile seeing the way Jay was looking at you. You saw him so scared and worried for other few times in your life, and if it hadn't been for the bullet, you would probably have made fun of him.

“Of course you’l live Y/n, of course I believe it. Who will make my life a living hell if you're gone?”.

You giggled at those words. “L-look at my little brother-in-law worrying about me,” you whispered, as you got weaker with each second that passed. Your eyelids felt heavy, you were struggling to keep your eyes open, or even just to speak.

Your mind was racing, a thousand thoughts were invading it, which was in stark contrast to your physical state as you struggled to even lift your hands.

But the first thought was your husband, your beloved Will. How would he react? What would’ve he said? You hated the thought of not being the first to tell him, to comfort him knowing how worried he would be.

“No of course I’m not,” Jay replied, letting out a sound of mock disdain, making you smile weakly again. “I'm just worried about Will, I don’t care about you. I know he’s going to fucking kill me once he’ll find out.”

You tried to let out a laugh but a cough stopped it.

You fought for Will above all, because you refused to leave like this, to give up right when you were living the life of your dreams with the love you had wanted for so long. But in that moment, as your strength slowly left your body as quickly as your blood spread across the asphalt, you needed him so much.

You wanted Will, you wanted him to hold your hand, you wanted him to whisper it was going to be okay and you’d be fine in no time, you wanted him to hug you and make you forget all the pain and fear that was paralyzing you, you wanted to run a hand through his hair and tell him to calm down when he’d freak out.

And you really tried to resist.

But you were tired, so exhausted, you just wanted to be able to rest a little.

And that was exactly how you let yourself slip into the darkness of oblivion, the last thought being Will's eyes.

“Y/n? Hey! Please don't play with me right now,” Jay shook your shoulders slightly when he realized you had closed your eyes. “I know you're joking, just wake up it’s not funny.”

But nothing, he didn't receive any response.

And after several attempts to wake you up he had to accept you had lost consciousness and you weren't joking at all.

He looked around waiting for the damn ambulance to arrive and when he finally saw it from afar, he thought it was a mirage, too good to be true.

Meanwhile Will was unaware of everything that was happening out there, that his world was collapsing on him without even realizing it.

“Your tests came back normal but we'll keep you here for observation for another couple of hours just to make sure everything is fine, and we'll keep you hydrated in the meantime, okay?”.

“Okay, thank you so much Dr. Halstead.”

Will gave the lady lying on the bed a smile before leaving her room and closing the door behind him. He sanitized his hands and walked over to the nurses' station where he took the patient's medical records, updating her tests and treatment.

He couldn't help but take his cell phone from his uniform pocket, noticing with disappointment there was no message from you. He let out a sigh, trying to stay calm and convince himself he was just overreacting even if anxiety was gripping his stomach.

He put down the patient’s chart he had just seen, playing with the ring on his ring finger while a nurse informed him of the arrival of another patient who was already waiting for him.

If only he had waited a few seconds longer, if only he hadn't immediately entered that room, he would’ve seen that the person who had just entered the emergency room, unconscious, was the very last person he would’ve ever wanted to see in those circumstances, the person whose safety he worried about night and day, one of the people he loved most in the world.

Jay couldn't reach you at the hospital right away since he was waiting for Voight's orders on what to do but nevertheless he didn't stop thinking about you for a second and hoping that you were still alive.

Will treated the patient who came to the hospital following a chainsaw accident while chopping wood. With the help of a nurse, he sutured and dressed the fairly deep cut on the patient's leg while in the next room Connor and the rest of the team worked to revive you from the cardiac arrest you had just fallen into.

It took about twenty minutes for him to finish treating the patient, who he recommended to return to check the wound and assigned medicines in case of infection or pain. When he left the room, he did again what he had done earlier: disinfect his hands and update the medical records.

“Woah, what happened in there?” Will asked one of the new nurses that had recently started working when his gaze fell on the now room.

He saw the state in which that room was, copious traces of blood stained the floor on which numerous bright red patches were scattered, soaked in the same blood of the victim he thought he didn't know. The defibrillator was nearby and positioned crookedly on its trolley indicating it had been used and Will hoped that whoever it was, had managed to survive.

“A gunshot victim, bad story. She went into cardiac arrest twice but they were able to revive her and Dr. Rhodes just took her to the OR,” explained the nurse who, being new, didn't know that said victim was his superior's wife.

Will nodded, looking away from the room for a second before handing her the patient’s medical record he had just seen and putting the pen back in his white coat’s pocket.

He took out his cell phone again, noting with equal disappointment that no message had arrived from you. He sighed again before putting it down and his gaze fell on that room again.

His gaze fell on the victim's objects which were in a transparent bag placed on one of the bedside tables next to the now absent bed. He didn't want to snoop but curiosity got the better of him and he thought maybe he could help track down the family.

His heart almost stopped when he recognized your clothes in that bag.

“What the fuck?” He whispered as his brain struggled to process what he was seeing. There was a police badge, among other items. Anxiety gripped his stomach in a vice, twisting it until he almost felt like he was going to throw up.

“No, no, no, no,” he babbled to himself as his eyes continued to scan the numbers on the badge again and again.

It was yours.

No, it couldn't be true, there had to be an explanation. There had to be a reason why your badge and clothes had to be there.

While his heart continued to beat voraciously in his chest, Will continued to look among those objects. There was also the gun and a cell phone, yours.

His hands began to shake as all of his worst nightmares seemed to come true. He couldn't believe it, he just couldn't, until the very end he hoped there had been some kind of misunderstanding, that it was definitely someone else but for some strange reason they had managed to take your gun, badge, cell phone and even your bloody clothes.

But it was when he saw the ring that he felt as if a train had hit him. There was no doubt it was your ring, a ring that was stained with your own blood.

Will felt as if the ground had slipped beneath his feet, for a moment so out of his mind everything seemed to happen in a blur.

He immediately ran out of that damned room, making space among his colleagues and passers-by and running like a madman towards the ORs. He looked crazy, but he didn't care, he didn't care to stop and apologize to the people he was clashing with, he just wanted to reach you.

This can't be true, please God.

He had to make sure, it couldn't really be happening.

He didn't even wash his hands before entering the OR, he simply took a surgical mask and placed it in front of his nose before entering where Connor was operating.

If Will had to describe how he felt, he would’ve said he felt like he was dying, that he felt the air stuck in his throat and his lungs collapsing. He felt his legs give way and had to lean on the doorframe leading to the OR to avoid falling on the floor.

It was you.

It was really you.

Unconscious and with a tube down your throat, but it was you.

“Why the fuck didn't anyone call me!” Will almost shouted, his hands shaking with fear and anger, holding back the desire to run to you and grab your hand since he wasn't sterile.

“Will, get out of here,” Connor replied, looking up from your open abdomen for just a second so he could look at his friend and the desperation he had on his face.

“How is she? Connor please tell me something,” the redhead begged as his eyes filled with tears.

“Will. Out. Now.”

“I'm not going anywhere until you tell me how you she is. She's my fucking wife, I'm her husband! I have to know!”.

“This is exactly why you can't stay here! I can't operate if you're here and I'm trying to save her fucking life so get out of my OR immediately!” Rhodes exclaimed loudly, feeling guilty for the tone he had used since Will was only worried about you, but thinking it was necessary. He looked up at one of the nurses and nodded at him at which he nodded back and walked over to Will, inviting him to come outside.

“Don't fucking touch me,” Will spat through gritted teeth, his eyes shining before walking out of the OR.

He slumped against the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the floor, legs bent and elbows resting on his knees while he had his hands on his face.

What the fuck happened?

It was unbelievable, he couldn't process it.

How did you go from making love that same morning to you having surgery a step from the death?

Where the fuck was Jay? Why wasn't he there?

Will let out a sob, praying with all his heart that at least his brother was okay. God only knew he wouldn't be able to survive if Jay got hurt too.

“Will!”.

But when he heard Jay's voice calling him out, a wave of relief washed away some of the anguish that had been plaguing him. Will stood up and saw Jay running towards him. He hugged him, in tears, holding him so tight his bones almost broke.

“What the hell happened Jay? Where the fuck were you? Why didn’t you call me? You okay?” Will peppered him with questions, taking a look at his brother and noticing with horror the blood staining his shirt.

“I'm fine… I-I'm so sorry Will, this shouldn't have happened I…” Jay blathered, also scared to death even though he knew what he was feeling was nothing compared to how Will must’ve going through at that moment. He told him what had happened. “How is she?”.

Will shook his head, as if to tell him he didn't know, and collapsed, letting himself go into tears full of terror, fear, fright. Jay wrapped an arm around his shoulders and helped him sit down, trying in vain to comfort him.

What would he have done if you hadn't survived? How could he go on with his life if you weren't there?

He didn't even want to imagine it, he didn't want to find answers to these questions because there actually weren't any answers. Will couldn't be without you.

He had known you since they were only a few years old, he had grown up with you, he had laughed, he had cried, he had fun with you, he had confided to you his deepest secrets, his deepest fears, he couldn't even think of not being able to do all this anymore. He remembered your friendship with so much warmth and joy before falling in love with you without even realizing it.

You made him happy, you understood him, you were his best friend, his lover, his wife, his confidant. Loving you felt like winning the lottery, marrying you was the most beautiful gift life could ever give him, he couldn't even think that all this was hanging by just a thread.

What would he have done without your laugh, your horrible jokes, without your smile, your eyes, the warmth of your hugs? How was he going to survive?

No, no, no, she’s going to be fine. She will be okay.

You were strong, one of the strongest people he had ever met in his life, there was no difficulty you wouldn't have solved, there was no obstacle you wouldn't have overcome. If anyone could do this it was you, Will knew you were going to be okay.

He jumped up, no longer able to sit still. Time seemed to stand still, passing so slowly that every minute was pure agony.

“Will…”

“Shut up Jay!” Will exclaimed loudly, not caring about other people. Jay remained silent as he stood up as well, letting his brother vent. “Where the fuck were you! You were supposed to protect her why weren't you there?!”

Will was not thinking clearly anymore because of the anger, not anger directed towards Jay – he knew it wasn’t his fault but only of the bastard that pulled the trigger.

He approached Jay and pushed him but Jay didn't react, his heart actually clenched as he saw the suffering Will was going through. He would probably have reacted the same way if his wife was fighting between life and death.

“If anything happens to her Jay… Fuck!”.

Jay raised a hand and shook his head when one of the doctors passing by tried to intervene, telling him he had everything under control.

“She’ll be fine brother. C'mon, this is Y/n, we know her, there’s nothing that woman can’t do.”

“How do you know huh?!” Will exploded, running his hands through his hair in frustration and desperation.

“I just know Will, she’ll make it, I'm sure of it,” Jay replied more calmly, moving closer to his brother. This time he was the one to hug him although Will resisted for a while, telling him to let him go. Jay didn't do it, he continued to hug him and hold him until he gave up and returned the hug.

Will cried on Jay's shoulders for the longest time, praying with every fiber of his being and whoever was up there to make you survive, to make you okay.

“I just want her back…” he whispered, not sure if Jay had heard him.

Jay helped him sit back down. “And you’ll get her back, just have a little faith. She is so strong man, do you really think she’ll leave us like this? C’mon, she has to be here and annoy us for the rest of our lives.”

Will chuckled through his tears, his eyes so blurry he couldn't make out the objects in front of him. He and Jay sat in that waiting room, waiting for hours to hear from you as he kept desperately praying.

Will sat with his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees while he continued to move a leg obsessively.

He had always tried to calm the patients' families, never fully understanding how they must really feel. But now that he knew, he felt guilty for not trying harder.

Please stay with me baby. Please just hang on for a little bit, please fight for us.

He had never understood what it felt like to be completely useless, what it felt like to be unable to do anything for the person you loved most in the world, to be unable to do anything to prevent that person from suffering.

He had always sworn to protect you, to not let anything hurt you and he felt like a failure for not being able to do this. He wished that damned bullet had hit him, that it had been him on the operating table having to fight for his life.

At every slightest noise he jumped, hoping it was Connor bringing good news but when he finally actually saw him appear in front of him, he feared it was just a hallucination.

Connor approached Will and Jay who jumped to their feet as soon as they saw him arrive.

“How did it go? Is she okay? Please tell me he's okay, Connor,” Will stammered, his heart beating so fast he thought he was going to have a massive heart attack.

“It was tough but she did well. The bullet had hit an artery and I managed to extract it but she lost a lot of blood and the next few hours will be delicate. But I'm pretty optimistic and she'll make a full recovery.”

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[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hello. Can you write Dark!Thranduil and a plus size female reader ? Please.

.⋆｡Auta Nissë｡⋆.

Dark!Thranduil x human!plus size reader

She was unique, she was beautiful, she was soft and by the gods, she would be his

Warnings: DARK FIC, kidnapping, forced marriage, obsession, mentions of death, magic, manipulation, no use of y/n, drugging

WC: 1.1k

A/N: Title means kept woman

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

It was certainly curious, a woman among the group of dwarves his guards had brought him- and a human woman at that. She stood out from the group like a sore thumb, yet she fit in with them all the same. They crowded around her legs as if to shield her from his gaze, to protect her from whatever he had in store for the trespassers.

“How fascinating, a woman in your midst. Tell me, king under the mountain, is she your bed warmer or just a lost creature you took pity on?” He sat forward on his throne of knotted wood, his crystal blue eyes focused on her, taking in every inch of her face. She showed no fear, nor any offence to his crudeness. The king smirked, she would do well.

The dwarves around her exploded, each attempting to insult him in not only the common tongue but in their native language as well. He paid them no mind, letting his gaze drift down to her body. She was at least modest, a large white shirt and dark trousers hid her away, disguising her curves quite well but he could still see the bulge of her hips and the softness of her stomach.

She was unlike any woman he had encountered before. Her eyes held the fire of a warrior, her hands were as stable as a healer’s, and the protective stance of a mother. “Take them away, but leave the girl. I believe she will tell us what we wish to know.” He spoke over their shoats, ignoring the way that they all reached for her as if their pathetic efforts could somehow save her.

Her fingers curled into her palm but otherwise gave him no reaction to suddenly being isolated. Gracefully, he stood to his full height, easily towering over the woman, casting a dark shadow over her as he approached. “Why do you travel with such… filth?” He crooned.

“I was hired to do so.” She answered simply, her voice strong. It carried through the throne room like a lone instrument in a concert hall and settled into his bones, marking them with the melodic tones of her words. A fire began to grow in his loins.

He took a step closer, she did not flinch. “I could offer you a place here, in my court. Certainly your skills and your beauty would be of more value here than on some fruitless journey that will only end in death.” As he drew closer, more of her perfect imperfections became clearer- her moles and birthmarks, scars and blemishes, but to him, they were simply an extra detail in the statuesque flawlessness of her figure.

“If it ends in death, then that will be how I die.” She retorted, lifting her head to meet his gaze once more as he was now only arm’s distance away. “I am human, death is not unknown to us.”

The side of Thranduil’s face burned with rage, reminding him of what he had lost to death all those many years ago. But that defiance, that drive so similar to that of his late wife, soothed the burn. “There are ways to cheat death, even for a human. But for now, it is my wish that you remain here until I decide how your quest shall continue.” With a flick of his slender wrist, he summoned two more guards.

They stood either side of her and began to lead her away. “You cannot stop fate, your highness.” She called, making him pause. The doors slammed closed behind her, leaving the great elven king to his thoughts.

——————

“I’m glad you joined me for dinner tonight.” He remarks while knowing that she had no choice. The Battle of The Five Armies had concluded months ago, Erebore was free and peace had finally settled over the land, yet Thranduil was still in the midst of his own war.

She refused his love. Isolating herself in the rooms he had so graciously given her, throwing away the luxurious food prepared fresh each day, even attempting to enact various escape attempts, but that had slowed significantly when she was moved to his own chambers and could be restrained each night in his arms.

Her silence irked him but he allowed it. “I wish that you would gain back some weight before the wedding.” She glared in response, merely sipping at her wine with her one free hand, the other bound to the ornate seat she was forced into. 

He sighed through his nose, hiding a smirk behind his own goblet. Her eyes fluttered shut as she drank the expensive liquor, savouring the sweet taste, unknowing that it was not the wine itself that gave the dark liquid its flavour. 

“Meletril.” (lover) He tuts, rising from his own chair to round the table. “Your hair is a mess. Let me fix it for you.” She was stiff as his slender fingers began to pick at her hair, delicately moving large strands into several braids. He worked quickly, the patterns and movements now an unconscious practice even if he had not practised in almost 1000 years.

“There, now I can properly see your pretty face.” His right hand cupped her full cheek, guiding her face upwards to him. Her eyes were now glassy, the potion he had snuck into her drink beginning to affect her, but her fire was still there, just existing as an ember now.

“This will not last, I will perish sooner or later and you will be left alone again.” She hissed, the bite in her tone significantly dulled. Yet Thranduil smiled and brushed her soft skin with his thumb before retreating back to his seat.

“Thorin sends his well-wishes, he is very excited about the wedding. And your little friend, what was his name, oh right! Bilbo, he will be journeying from the Shire with his nephew to attend.” Her nostrils flared with rage.

“Just kill me already! I am of no use to you other than a pet!” She cried, though her voice was beginning to slur as the magic took hold of her. 

The elven king slammed his hand on the table, immediately silencing her. “Enough! I have had enough of your silly rebellions and cruel words. You will be my wife simply because I love you. So no more silly speak of you being a pet, you are my equal, my queen but you obviously need to be reminded of your place. You are to never leave my side, death will not take you, I have made sure of that. Now eat.” Her eyes were now wide with panic, the truth finally settling in.

“What have you done?” Her skin began to glow as the transformation began. The king watched as all the indicators of her age were wiped away, the smile lines, the bags beneath her eyes, even scarring from the blemishes of puberty. She was ethereal, eternal now, just like him.

“I have changed your fate.”

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[blouisparadise]

Upon request, today we have a rec list of bottom Louis fics that feature badass Louis. If you enjoy our rec lists and want them to continue, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Bite | Mature | 10,980 words

Louis is a vampire hunter, and Harry is too happy being his prey.

2) Don't Call Me Angel | Mature | 16,648 words

Manhattan is a dangerous playground for the rich and entitled Alphas of New York. Those same wealthy Alphas are robbed after spending one night in the presence of a blue-eyed Omega and Officer Styles is assigned to the case.

3) Friendly Neighborhood Spideypool | Explicit | 18,705 words

“Don’t fuck with me, I’m not in the mood.” Louis’ got the urge to punch him in the face, but he knows deep down that if anything it’ll just add fuel to Harry's innuendo fire. “You know I only fuck you, not with you. There’s a difference. It’s slight but still there.” He’s joking, but it’s sincere in a way that only Deadpool could make it. It gives Louis a strange mix of emotions, his body doesn’t know whether to fill with butterflies or to knee Deadpool in the balls again for insinuating them fucking.

4) Death Wish | Explicit | 22,067 words

Louis hates vampires, he lives his life trying to kill as many as he can, night after night, year after year. He hates them. Then why the fuck is he kissing one? Again. “I mean it, Harry.” Louis says, into his mouth this time. “You need to get the fuck away from me.”

5) The Games We Play | Explicit | 23,488 words

Louis is a political lobbyist who chose his career over his personal life a long time ago and has never regretted it. Then he met Harry.

6) The Voice Of Range And Ruin | Explicit | 25,470 words

It seemed as if the freshly formed Omega Uprising had always been a step or two ahead of the Commandant and the rest of the reigning Alphanian officials. The idea had been floated that there must be someone working with them from the inside, reporting back to them on the government’s plans so that they could be prepared. That person had yet to be discovered, and the Commandant and his surrounding forces had finally had enough of this game of cat and mouse. Harry understood. He agreed. It needed to come to an end, one way or another.  “Your job is to navigate their landscape and gain entry into their forces. You will pretend to be one of them and gain reliable intel for us. It’s clear that no one else has been capable of doing it, and you at least have some semblance of experience in this field. This has gone on for too long, Harry. Enough is enough.” He made direct eye contact with his son, holding it. “I’m counting on you.” 

7) Now Is The Winter Of Our Discontent | Explicit | 28,832 words

Where Harry is leading an army to overthrow the king of Cheshire and Louis is one of the volunteers who joins them along the way.

8) You Fill My Lungs With Sweetness (Can I Be Close to You?) | Explicit | 29,884 words

Busy picturing Harry’s stupid face on the stupid dummy, Louis goes through a series of kicks before returning to a low guard and cycling through punches. Harry’s still talking, gesturing with his hands as he rounds Louis, standing to his back. “You do a few butt-shaping exercises, tighten this up a little bit,” he smacks Louis’ arse and the omega freezes while Harry cheerfully continues, “you could pull this off.” “You know what?” Louis snaps, lifting on his tiptoes to get the leverage so he can wrap his arm around the alpha’s neck, forcing him to bend in half while Louis locks him in a chokehold. “Pull this off,” he snarls. They stagger over a few steps, Louis gritting his teeth as Harry tries to break free. “Is it because Payne hates me?” he complains, voice edging on an annoyed whine, “Or is it, like, an omega thing?” Too late, Louis realizes that Harry has got a grip on his leg and this time as he pulls against Louis’ hold, it loosens, the alpha lifting him in the air before slamming his back into the mat, breaking Louis’ grip completely. Harry kneels on the mat, hovering over him with a sneer, “Don’t kid yourself. Nobody thinks of you that way.”

9) Just Let Me Adore You | Not Rated | 34,913 words

The one where Louis and Harry shouldn't make sense. Where Louis' past and Harry's present intermingle and no one is thinking straight.

10) Not Everything is So Primitive (Oh, but I’m Giving In) | Explicit | 35,809 words

“Okay, hold your bloody horses, I’m coming,” Niall rips open the door, freezing at the sight of Harry, bloody and disgruntled, standing on his doorstep, “What the hell happened to you?” “My husband,” Harry grumbles, pushing past Niall and walking into his entryway, “He tried to kill me,” Harry pauses, turning to Niall and grabbing his shoulders, “He tried to kill me with his fucking car.”

11) Burning Soul | Explicit | 39,513 words

Louis is a rogue Omega wolf, all he wants is a new start. Will he allow himself to fully embrace what awaits him, or will he run again, too damaged by past hurt?

12) Soaked In The Blood Of Angels | Explicit | 40,867 words

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape. Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago. This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

13) No Easy Choice, But You're Mine | Explicit | 45,603 words

Louis is an omega hitman with one last job that goes a little sideways. Harry is the alpha bartender that looks a little too closely and cares a little too much.

14) Falling Without Caution | Explicit | 50,350 words

Louis Tomlinson, a wanted criminal, was captured by the FBI after years of chasing. Instead of being locked up in a high-security prison, he was offered a deal. What was supposed to be the end of a decade long chase turned into a morally grey circumstance for Agent Styles.

15) Let Your Damage, Damage Me | Explicit | 57077 words

A low and dangerous growl was ripped from the future King’s chest. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” the alpha snarled, eyes dark and nostrils flared. Even as anger rushed through him at the alpha’s brutish display, Louis felt breathless at the intense gaze of the man that was going to be his future mate. ‘Tomorrow I’m going to be under all that. He will be inside me, all muscles and rage.’ Louis felt his cheeks heat again, but refused to be cowed. So he put his best smirk on display, the one alphas despised to see, the one that assured them all he had the upper hand. “Thought you were expecting me, dear husband. I’m your future mate.”

16) Men of Steel, Men of Power | Explicit | 58,849 words

“You’ve been watching me,” Styles said. Louis swallowed around nothing. He tried for light. “You’re the newest addition, people are bound to be curious,” he said. “Sure,” said Styles, in a somewhat condescending tone. “I’m not that daft, I do notice the curiosity regarding my clothes. That’s not what you’re doing though, hm?” Styles’ gaze was intense, and Louis could feel it burn on the side of his face, but kept his eyes stubbornly on the coffee cup. “I,” he said, licked his lips. Took a deep breath, tried to look open, confident, dominant. Alpha.

17) Somethin' Bout You | Explicit | 59,855 words

Of all the government agents in the world, Louis had to go and land the most charming one.

18) The Face Of Love's Rage | Explicit | 67,421 words

“What if I tell you,” the princess said slowly, “I can get you five kingdoms and a lover?” Harry’s brows rose. “Only five?” he said mockingly. “And a lover. Don’t forget the lover.” “I have a lover.” “Do you?” the omega tilted her head, smiling, “I think right now, you have a consort, two friends, and a hostage. If you marry Julien, you will lose a friend and gain another hostage. Do you want him as a hostage or as a friend?” Harry’s temper was about to snap and break all hell loose. His hands itched to do something with the wild creature in front of him, with her untamed spirit that seemed to mock his authority and challenge his very presence. Abigail Tomlinson, with all her secrets and sins, defied not only his status, but everyone who dared to get in her way. Always making everyone aware that the only reason she was still there wasn’t because Harry let her, but because she wanted to be. Seven kingdoms, two sinners and one big secret.

19) Through Struggles, To The Stars | Explicit | 80,582 words

Louis is a Starfleet captain trying to find his place in the universe. Harry is a prince just trying to do what's right.

20) The Rose Of Whitechapel | Mature | 100,182 words

Jack the Ripper au - Detective Constable Harry Styles and his partner, DC Liam Payne, lead the case on the Whitechapel murders. Louis Tomlinson, the Rose of Whitechapel, is harbouring secrets of his own, along with a dark and sordid past. When their paths cross, truths are revealed, and perhaps hearts are mended... A darkness is brewing, and it's finally come to collect on the promise it was made.

21) Gloria Regali | Not Rated | 100,985 words

"I am very proud of you," Louis admitted, his eyes displaying his conviction, "you are very brave and ridiculously determined." Harry looked at him, as he shook his head, reaching out to his hand, he held it, "Trust me, it is not enough." "What makes you say that?" "Because if it was, you would have been married to me."

22) The Galaxy's Edge | Explicit | 113,921 words

In which Louis is a bounty hunter with a messed up past. Harry is a prince who just wants to prove himself. Niall and Zayn have too many things to figure out together. And Liam just wants to take care of his family. Things never quite go as they are planned during a simple rescue job.

23) Run Like the Devil | Explicit | 139,152 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

Harry stops pouting, but his frown is still fixed in place. “Are you sure?” he asks. “You know it’s your soul you’re signing away.” He sounds…sad? No, that’s not right, but there’s something. Christ. This is the most incompetent demon Louis’ ever met. If he hadn’t seen the red of his eyes he wouldn’t believe he was a demon at all. How’d he get this job if he isn’t trying to convince Louis to deal? Or is it just another trick? A ploy for sympathy? “I’m sure,” Louis says. “Come over here and kiss me.”

24) Only You Can Be My Alpha | Mature | 212,387 words

In a world where one was either an Alpha or an Omega wolf, Louis found himself in a body that could be neither. Born an Omega without the expected characteristics of one, he felt broken, choosing to live as Alpha a lifestyle as he could. Harboring a serious lack of respect for Alphas and their authority complexes, Louis managed to get himself banished from his home, forced to wander the unforgiving woods for years, facing the elements and fighting enemy rogues each time they arose. Unbeknownst to Louis, in a tribe to the southwest of his home, there lived a dysfunctional Alpha, the orphaned pack leader Harry, who had never felt satisfied enough with anyone to settle down and continue his royal line. Living their lives apart thus far, the both of them assumed that they might be alone forever, making the best of things despite this even though it hurt. Chance, luck, or maybe fate brings Louis to this tribe when he’d least expected to receive kindness and shelter from a stranger, and when he arrives, something in his soul pulls him to Harry like a raging river current. The two don’t get off to a good start, but everyone around them can sense the chemistry—and in time they do too.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp #blp fic recs #badass louis

[fastlikealambo]

burn for you: coriolanus snow x black!fem reader regency au

summary: notorious rake coriolanus snow, duke of districtshire, must marry or face financial ruin. he sets his sights on you, an extremely wealthy woman in your own right and what transpires over one year told in 4 acts will change both their lives.

this is a sample chapter, please interact, comment or reblog if you would like to see the full chapter.

@rosewine-5

@saturnville

      Act One: Autumn

                                       

Just before the first leaves fell, Crassus Snow, the former Duke of Districtshire, died beneath the warm thighs of a chambermaid, a simple fact that brought joy to His Grace, Coriolanus Snow, his son and the new Duke of Districtshire every single time he thought about it.

The social season had begun and from his rooms in The Corso, he could see that the entire street had begun preparations for The Plinth Ball to open the season. Sejanus would be arriving soon to go over strategy for a successful social event but Coriolanus wasn’t the least bit worried, in fact he was annoyed.

He was a duke now, his name was on several ladies’ dance cards, he had an entire legion of staff and a village at his disposal, the world should have been his for the taking. But with his new title came his father’s old debts and the bastard loved to spend.

His Grace Coriolanus Snow, Duke of Districtshire, was flat fucking broke.

A knock at the door interrupted Coryo’s dream of a new cravat and with the arrival of his grandmother and cousin, his annoyance only grew with whatever Grandma’am was about to pester him with.

     “Coryo,I fixed the buttons on your jacket for the ball, pearls from the guest room curtains worked perfectly. I need to see it on you, make sure it fits like it’s supposed to.” Tigris said

 Coryo was only happy to oblige as his most beloved cousin moving back in with them after his father died had been the only bright spot in weeks. Slipping into the tailcoat, he looked in the mirror, admiring Tigris’ work.

Above all, he would look every inch the duke his father never was even if he only had a bit of cabbage and cold mutton to break his fast all day.

   “It’s wonderful,Tigris, thank you.” Coriolanus said truthfully, happy to see her smile while Grandma’am continued to look dour.

   “I had a letter from Lord Highbottom. He purchased the country estate without any warning and he intends to buy this home, our ancestral home, within a year if we do not pay what your father owed him for investing in his peasant child fighting establishment failure. You must marry well and marry now, Coriolanus! Do you wish me to be the laughingstock of the gardening society?” 

Grandma’am rather melodramatically threw herself onto the nearest settee, sobbing into a handkerchief while Tigris patted her back and gave her cousin an apologetic look.

No.

He did not wish to marry, not when there was fun to be had, that was something for a later date of his choosing, not in his first months of dukedom.

If it took selling off a prized horse or two, so be it.

Absolutely not, not happening.

    “You know my grandson, Coriolanus? He’s very much on the hunt for a suitable bride tonight! There’s not a young lady in all of Panem that wouldn’t want the title of Duchess and my grandson on their arm.”

Grandma’am’s voice unfortunately carried throughout the Plinth ballroom and it took everything in Coryo to not jump through the nearest window and to a brothel where his coin was far more interesting than his title.

       “Cheer up Your Grace, you’re scaring your potential brides.” Clemensia Dovecote quipped, stealing the  champagne flute from him with a smile.

      “Is it really that obvious, Clemmie?”

      “You look like you were bit by several snakes. Come dance with me unless you’d like to be set upon by overeager mamas in the next sixty seconds?”

Coriolanus could see Grandma’am leading an army towards him and joined the quadrille without a second thought.

All he had to do was pick the most agreeable one with the biggest dowry and their money problems would be settled with no more interference from Highbottom. 

He could buy all the cravats he wanted.

No.

He was still a duke and dukes did whatever they wanted and at this moment he wanted a drink, not a duchess.

Yet as he made his way to the nearest servant, the sound of double doors opening made him stop and everyone in the ballroom cease talking and dancing.

You.

You walked through the double doors, a masterpiece for all to gaze upon and immediately every thought of leaving early left Coriolanus’ mind.

Perhaps there was fun to be had this evening.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x black!reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow fanfiction #regency au

[thebrightestwitchofherage]

Dear anti Zionists

I will try and make this brief and to the point since you often attack me without reading the entirety of my posts :

I’ve seen your recent posts about the trials in Haag, and the mockery you’ve made of the events of October 7th. That’s just disgusting. Freeing Palestine has nothing to do murdering Israeli civilians.

- This war was initiated by Hamas , a terrorist organisation on October 7th.

- You cannot deny that they invaded Israel and then massacred thousands of civilans , raped and mutilated women and children, kidnapped civilians , shot thousands of rockets, destroyed homes ….

There are currently 136 Israeli hostages still held in captivity, for almost 100 days. They’re held in underground tunnels and being withheld medical care and medications. The women are raped and the man tortured.

There are currently also hundreds of thousands of Israelis displaced from their homes due to the war.

-I will say it again: Literally every war or operation in Israel’s history was not initiated by Israel. It is always a matter of retaliation to foreign military invasion or terror attacks .

I’m only 22 and I have personally lived through one intifada, 4 wars and countless military operations.

We are all suffering because of Hamas. Once again- my city is often under attack and people I know are dead. And some of you here have absolute nerve to say that I’m privileged????

-Intifadas aren’t cute civilian uprisings. They’re violent terror attacks against civilians. Children’s Buses blowing up, restaurants blown up, shootings, stabbings, running over people…

read a damn book or something before you chant “Globalise the Intifadas🥹”.

-Have any of you here ever spoken to a Palestinian or an Israeli in your life? Do you even know anyone Jewish?

- Please give me actual example of the apartheid in Israel, I’m waiting. My Druze / Arabic colleagues , friends and I literally frequently joke about this claim.

-No, blockades between the West Bank/Gaza and Israel do not count.

There are ISIS affiliated/ Hamas terrorists in the West Bank and Gaza, territories that are not governed by Israel > there are borders check point. Israel has the right to defend itself against terror.

-by the way, Jordan and Egypt both have those blockades btw- I don’t see any of you attacking them? The hypocrisy…

- While I am not questioning the death and suffering of Palestinians , this has to be said:

The amount of Palestinian casualties during the Hamas-Israel war is estimated by unconfirmed sources , and isn’t corroborated by any neutral official organisation.

It was also proven that most of the casualties are terrorists.

The Gaza ministry of health= Hamas .

Al Jazeera= not credible &has been time and time again proved to be biased and anti-Semitic.

Furthermore, It’s been proven time and time again that Hamas terrorists work at UWNRA, and that Palestinian reporters in both Al Jazeera and western media outlets are in fact Hamas members/ supporters.

One of them literally joined the Al Qasam forces in their attack on October 7th, and was reporting rather enthusiastically on the murder of Israeli civilians. As the massacre continued around them.

You would rather believe terrorists & terrorists sympathisers than Jewish/ Israeli victims’ testimonies and the concrete evidence they provide.

-It seems like you’re ignoring what Gazans are saying in your attempts to “free Palestine”.

If Gazans themselves are saying Hamas are to blame for their terrible living conditions and war , why are you defending Hamas?

Why are you assuming that you know better than the people who are actually living this conflict?

-The IDF has been trying every tactic under the sun to alert civilians from incoming strikes. There are whole unites devoted to texting calling Gazan civilians. They have made millions of calls this war alone.

And yes, even the infamous flyers you joke about are used.

Do you know any other army that does that?

God I am so tired of the misinformation, lies and hatred here. So many of you are showing your true colours- ignorance and antisemitism.

#believe jewish women #south africa #jewblr #טאמבלר ישראלי #gaza strip #israel palestine conflict #jewish #hamas is isis #israel #ישראל #human rights #israeli #current events #middle eastern history #middle east #ישראלי #עברית #jewish tumblr #Gaza #news on gaza #gaza genocide #free gaza

[itsscromp]

Ink me up

As per the recent poll, It's time to give our favourite soldier a brand spanking new tattoo, courtesy of his bestie. Co-credit:@callofdudes Word count:988

Before joining the army, You had a dream of becoming a tattoo artist, Wanting nothing more then to create amazing drawings and be able to do this for many people who wanted it. You even went and took classes on how to do so. But though you were now with the 141, You wouldn't change it either way, You still had that desire.

Finding online a professional tattoo kit, you ordered that and some ink too to mail to the base, Once arriving you set it all up. The knowledge of what you learnt in college never leaves you. As if it was all second-hand nature.

Simon you knew had a lot of tattoos, his whole sleeve wrapped in them, Maybe you could be able to give him a tattoo. So you got up and went to go find him. "Simon come check this out !!" You ushered him back to your room once you found him.

"What's got you all excited mate ??" He raised an eyebrow as he entered the room, Seeing the kit in front of him.

"I bought a tattoo kit online, I used to do them back in college" You smiled proudly.

He tilted his head slightly, a little confused "And what do you plan on doing with it ?? Give yourself a wonky little heart on your hand ??" He chuckled.

"If you'll be happy to know Riley, I have gotten solid good grades from classes and my clients" You smirked at him playfully. Having had work experience at shops too.

"Oh, I didn't know you had some experience, Good for you then. But I still don't know what you plan to do with it though" He looked over at the kit.

"Well, I was hoping I could give you guys tattoos, Maybe you as well, add a new one to your collection."

"Really ?? Is that your plan ??" He chuckled.

"Well, if you want too. I can set it up and we can do it now" You smiled proudly.

He contemplated it, He did want a new tattoo, But he didn't know what he wanted to get. "It depends what kind of dumb thing you'd try to put on my skin"

"As the client you have every choice on the design"

He smirked, Starting to consider it. "Ok, what can you do ??"

You then pulled out a tattoo book you ordered as well and handed it to him. "Have a look through this and we'll go from there."

"Your being professional about this" He said as he skimmed through the book.

"I can be unprofessional if you want" You smirked before snickering "Come on, like I would ever do something like that."

He smirked "I'm not taking any chance in letting you putting some wanky shit on my body" Joking.

"Oh come on si, Please ??" You pouted and gave him your signature puppy dog eyes. Simon knew you would pull the trick and tried to resist....... Oh but how can he refuse his bestie !!!!

So sighing and points at the tattoo he wants. "It's dumb but there is no way you could possibly fuck this up."

"Ok, let's get to it" You smiled and set up the machine "Ok, so where would you like it ??"

Simon pulled off his sweater and rolled up his right sleeve, relaxing in the chair you brought in. "I'll let you put it on my bicep... Don't. Fuck it up" He smirked.

"I won't, trust me" You created the stencil and put your gloves on, Rubbing the alcohol on Simon's bicep and placed the stencil on.

"Ok, let's get to work" You started up the machine, dipping the needle in the ink and got underway. Simon watched on as you pressed the needle against his skin gently, careful not to hurt him. He was really impressed with your skill as an artist. "You never told me you could tattoo" He watched on.

"Never underestimate me Simon" You said, not losing focus on the sketch at hand.

"I'll keep that in mind"

After about a couple of hours on the stencil. "Ok, onto the shading"

Swapping out the needle and dipping it back into the ink, You began to shade the tattoo, Simon continued to watch as you worked, The shading making the tattoo come to life. "You're doing better than I thought you would"

"Had a dream of doing this as a career before the military, It was just hard to find a vacant position at any shop, And I wasn't going to start my own business" You chuckled.

And after a few more hours, the tattoo was complete. "And done" You smiled.

"Wow, I would expected to have heard about this earlier, I'll admit I'm a little hurt" He smirked, shifting in the chair a little.

"Better late than never" You then pulled a mirror out and showed Simon the finished artwork.

Inspecting it, Damn you did a great job on this. He started to smile under his mask.

"You like it ??" You said a little nervously.

"Well would you look at that" He looked up at you.

"It's good huh ??" You perked up proudly.

"It's better than I had expected, It can stay on my skin"

"That's the point of a tattoo" You snickered.

"Yeah but this doesn't look like crap" He smiled and inspected it again.

You were insanely proud of your work.

"You know... Even if it looked like shit, I'd still like it. Because you made it, And it looked pretty cool I wont lie."

"Yeah ??"

"Yeah, I like it a lot, Mostly cause you put it there"

Y/n was so happy Simon loved his brand new tattoo, You soon became his artist after that, Always coming up with new designs for him, The kit was a very well made purchase.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

#platonic #reader insert #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley imagine #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty imagine

[narcissisticmf]

say don't go | aragorn x fem!reader

description: getting ready to leave for battle leads to an unexpected conversation.

trigger warnings: angst, mentions of violence, some sexism, daughter of gandalf!reader, witch!reader, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: <1k

You squeezed through the many bodies of men that were amongst the camp. Searching for Aragorn, your tired eyes bounced from tent to tent, hoping he would appear eventually.

Across the camp, Aragorn was saddling his horse. You took the opportunity to approach him as he was seeming to be leaving somewhere in secret; without Legolas and Gimli, more evidently.. without you (you observed).

"You're leaving?" You questioned with a subtly firmness which you did not intend.

Aragorn saw you, eyes locked for a moment before parting his lips to speak, "This I must do alone, Y/N."

You nearly rolled your eyes, but fought yourself from doing so and remained still. The crickets sung, filling the silence between the both of you. He stared at you with reluctance, but continued to saddle his horse.

"So you're no longer the ranger from the North, are you?" You questioned and looked at you. "You are the King of Gondor.. protecting his people, is that right?"

"Y/N, I need you here protecting these warriors. You are more powerful than any of us all together," Aragorn explained, stepping toward you away from the stallion. "I am leaving to summon an army that will defend us, we do not have the numbers and you know that."

"That is precisely why I should be going with you, you'll die back there," You stated, blankly.

"I do not fear death," He replied.

"You have far too much pride, Aragorn," You whispered, lowly.

"You will stay here and protect these men," He ignored your insult.

"That is what I am to do? Stay here and watch you go?" You bit off, frustratedly.

"I must do this alone, Y/N," Aragorn repeated more what felt like the hundredth time that evening.

You were beyond frustrated now. It felt as though you were conversing with a stone wall. Aragorn never doubted your abilities and your magic, but now it felt like you were merely a woman being told to stand back while a man took care of other matters of business.

Unaware of your emotions, your eyes filled with tears and became red. You were angry more than anything and reached your hand up into a fist. Aragorn watched you with a furrow in his brow. His pupils large as he slowly gripped your wrist, ever so gently.

"Tell me to stay," Aragorn spoke softly to you as you looked to him with an emotionless expression, though tears continued to fall. "Say don't go," He added.

"I cannot tell you that," You replied, wanting more than anything to.

"I don't understand," Aragorn lowered your hand as it was no longer balled in a fist. "A moment ago you are angry that I go alone, now you tell me you can't say you don't wish for me to leave."

"What I want is to join you, Aragorn," You told him with pure vexation. "I never felt like just a hopeless woman with you until this very moment. I cannot tell you to stay, but I can come with you. I can make sure that you do not end up dead."

Aragorn stared at you for a moment longer before his lips curved into a soft smile, "You're almost as stubborn as Gandalf."

"I learned from the best," You whispered and a snicker left your lips shortly after. "Don't unsuspect that Legolas and Gimli won't be coming along as well," You warned with a small, thin smile.

Aragorn's lips curved into a pleasing smile in response.

.

a/n: i don't know how i feel about this. is it good?? idk how to feel!! needless to say, i hope you enjoyed this sweetpeas! this is my first lotr fic and i'll definitely be doing more! mwah! be safe and happy (almost) halloween! <33 — angelina.

#smut #imagine #reader #x reader #edit #lotr #lotr x reader #lotr x y/n #lotr x you #aragorn #aragorn son of arathorn #aragorn x reader #aragorn x you #aragorn x y/n #gandalf #gandalf the grey #gandalf the white #the hobbit #frodo baggins #frodo and sam #lotr fanart #lotr aragorn #lotr fandom #lotr fanfic #lotr fic #legolas #gimli #boromir #samwise gamgee #pippin

[meowmeowriley]

The Only Thing We Share is the Same Last Name

Tell ,e about the whump pretty pretty please 🥹🥹🥹

Eheh eheheheheheh okie dokie.

After hearing of his brothers death in Mexico Thomas Riley joins the army. He wants to be more like his brother was, wants to be a better person. He passes selections, gets into the SAS, he's on the right track. Why the fuck does Lieutenant Ghost of the 141 look like he's about to fucking murder him?

Here's the opening 😁

***

Tom held the receiver to his ear and listened to it ring. He could see the man tasked with listening in out of the corner of his eye. They wouldn't recognize this number, maybe they wouldn't answer. He'd just leave a message, but truly he wished-

"Hello?" It was Beth.

"Hey Lov- er, HI, Beth." He wasn't sure where they stood.

"Tom?"

"Yeah."

"Oh thank heavens." Rustling on the other end. Tom could easily imagine she'd just slumped over the kitchen island. The same kitchen island she'd found him slumped against half conscious He'd seen her do it so many times, any time someone on the other end of the phone gave her news that offered relief. So she'd wanted to hear from him? "It's been almost six months, Tom." She sounded tired. She had two young boys to care for, she had a right to be tired.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know." He could've called five months ago. He could've called three months ago. He could've called last week. He had two minutes. "I, er, I've been busy. Been training. Practicin' the CQB. Selections is today. In a few minutes, in fact." He swallowed. His throat was so dry, Beth could probably hear it through the line.

"The SAS, then?"

"Yeah."

"Hmmm."

The clock ticking on the wall was maddening. One minute. Nut up, Riley.

"H-how's Mum?" A frog could've said it clearer.

"She's... oh, y'know... she's coping." Right. Coping. 'The damn army is gonna take both my sons from me! Queen and country, what about your poor mother!?" He wondered if anyone patched the hole in the wall, or replaced the lamp. "Just popped down to the shop with Jo," Beth continued. "'S just me 'n Si-"

"I'm gonna have to hop off, here." He scrambled to stop her sentence. "Gotta... gotta do this." The plastic of the phone groaned under the pressure of him white knuckling it. Beth could probably hear that too.

"Hey." Tom closed his eyes. He deserved whatever tongue lashing he got, but he wished she'd yell. It would be easier. "Y'know, the way we left things..." she sighed. "I miss you. I'm sorry." It would be so much easier if she'd just yell.

"Joseph doesn't deserve a father like that. Not some j-.... The boys, they deserve a father they can be proud of. Not the man I was. But the man I'm becoming." A man like him.

"The man you are, Thomas." Not yet. Maybe not ever. But he'd be damned if he didn't try. "I'm proud of you.... He would be too."

Tom exhaled slowly, desperately grasping at the last of his composure. "Wish me luck." Far from steady, but at least his voice hadn't cracked.

"You don't need me to. You'll do fine."

"If, er, if things go to plan, and I get in, I should still be on track to have some leave. Three weeks."

"You'll come home?" The hope in her voice is what broke him.

"If you'll have me?" There was still an out. She could still send him away. He'd understand if she did.

"Please."

***

Just a lil taste 😋

#ao3 #fanfic wip #fanfiction #fanfic #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #call of duty #simon ghost riley #tommy riley #whump #modern warfare #ask hoard #ask answered #ask #ask game

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Court, death, mentions of violence.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello angels! We are getting closer and closer to the end! Only 3 more chapters to go, I can't wait to finish this with you. I know I sound like a broken record, but jesus! I've had this bad boy ageing in my computer waiting to be posted haha. Anyone, Enjoy! <3

Chapter 107: And So The Tide Rushes to Shore 

The news of the seizing of Kings Landing by Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen spread across the realm like wild fire. There was no corner that had not heard the news, nor person that had not swallowed in apprehension.

But the promise of war was over.

There would be no war.

No torching of the realm and its innocents, no destruction of Keeps and homes and livestock. No call for men to join armies and fight for the throne in a bloody and violent death. Nor women and children who would be left alone without their fathers, or husbands.

However, now was a time where the fragility of her rule would hang upon a delicate thread, and although Rhaenyra had her supporters, there were still those who had supported Aegon’s rule, and then subsequently Aemond’s.

The Small Council of the Greens had been rounded into cells by guards and knights. Gold cloaks flooding the Keep at the order of Daemon, a man who they had kept their allegiance to for all his time spent away.

And as Rhaenyra had personally escorted you, alongside Daemon, towards your original chambers, the ones that you grew up in, and not the one that now housed the corpse of your late husband, you walked quietly, dagger still in your hand, Daemon’s fingers unable to pry it from you just yet.

The corridors were a mess of Lords and Ladies, maids and servants who rushed and fled, were captured, and otherwise scattering like ants as they were unsure of what to do, or what was to come. 

Above you, four large dragons, circled the Keep, crying out into the air. A vision of red, and green, and pale pearl flying about as they surveyed the Red Keep below. One outsized them all.

The bronze scales of Vermithor shimmered brightly in the sun.

A sob of relief fell from your lips as you watched him, looking up at a dragon you had been separated for months from, not being able to see him or know he was okay. There was agitation in his body as he flew, but otherwise he was safe.

He was safe.

And he knew you were too.

When you had gotten to your chambers, Amala and Joanna were already there, waiting, wringing their hands together in anticipation. And upon seeing you, Amala had gasped, and ran towards you, hands checking your face for wounds, no doubt shocked by the blood.

Daemon turned to the girls, “Fetch her some water for a bath.”

And with that, their fussing and stress stopped, and they sprung into action, running from the chambers. Both girls eyes dragging over your body and the crown atop your head as they exited.

It was weird to be back in them. 

The chambers that felt alien to you now.

You stood in the room you had once called your own and breathed, slowly walking over to your old table to place the dagger atop it, finally feeling safe. Finally feeling as though you didn't need the blade any longer. That the last piece of safety Aemond had given to you had served its purpose. And it was then that you breathed, truly breathed. Breathed for the first time since coming to the Red Keep.

It was over. 

It was over.

You stood as you were and watched the maids return, another younger girl in tow, blonde and thin, who bowed and introduced herself quietly to you, ‘Ceryse, Your Grace’, eyes widening at the blood on your skin and hair before she averted her eyes, face having turned ashen.

Daemon and Rhaenyra waited with you as they filled the bath, and as the chamber doors opened once again, you had expected one of the girls to be bringing more water to rinse you with, but instead, you were met with a pair of deep brown eyes. 

Jacaerys.

You sucked in a sob as he raced across the chambers, crashing his body into yours as he gripped you tightly. You almost fell backwards from the clashing of your bodies, arms curled under his and up his back, squeezing the leather riding tunic he wore to you tightly. 

He smelt of dragon, of musk, and the subtle sulfur of dragon flame. But most of all, he smelt of home.

You half sobbed and half laughed, overjoyed and grieving all at once in his arms. Hands shaking around him as he squeezed you tightly. His chest shaking as he sobbed himself, holding you outwards in his arms as his eyes roamed your body, looking you over.

He was taller, so much taller than he had been, and broader too. His hair was long against his shoulders and curled, pulled behind his ears by braids.

"You're here." He breathed, as though he was even unsure of it. As if seeing you had confirmed that his greatest fear had not come true.

You nodded, hand coming to touch his jaw gently. He grabbed the wrist that held his face tightly, emotion pouring through his eyes as he shook. And in a turn of familiarity that you only knew from Daemon, he rested his forehead against yours and breathed, eyes shut, brown lashes clumped together and wet as he fought the tears that escaped them.

"I'm here." You breathed, "I'm here."

The rest was a blur.

A blur of reunion, a blur of being bathed, the milky water below turning a soft pink, to an earthy copper as the blood was washed from your hair and face. The maids scrubbing your body with a sponge to pull the dried blood from your skin, Rhaenyra not once leaving your side.

One of the maids had to bring her a chair and tell her to sit down as she anxiously stood between you and the door, eyes darting back and forth, the fear of having you taken from her again ripe.

But nothing had happened. No knights entered to take away, no Greens supporters came to call, no Alicent, or Jasper, or anyone. Just you and your mother, who insisted on brushing and braiding your hair, and you had let her, tears cascading down your cheeks as she hummed to you.

A familiar tune.

Something the maids had sang to you a long time ago, but this time, it was the song of the Goddess Meleys, and you had cried even harder.

She had been there all along.

That evening you dined with your family, exhaustion burrowed deep within your bones.

And it was still all a blur, it felt like a dream still. Sat with Rhaenyra, Daemon, Jacaerys, Rhaenys and Baela around the table in the intimate dining hall. 

It was almost like it had been before.

Before the war. 

As though this was as it was supposed to be. 

Almost.

And whilst they celebrated the victory quietly and solemnly, toasting a cup towards you which you lifted your own in response, there was no denying the grief that lingered in the foreground. No denying the grief of the loss of Lucerys and your sister. Their palpable absence. The grief of the war and time lost, of your own child, of Aemond.

Tears escaped your eyes, and you were thankful to be with them, but for the most part, sitting with your family, it felt as though you were watching them all through somebody else’s eyes, as though you were watching from somewhere else, or that you were a puppet from Flea Bottom and somebody, high above in the clouds, was pulling your strings, stretching your cheeks into a smile, nodding your head in agreement, ears listening to tales and comments of relief without truly listening. 

It was not a loud and joyous celebration. In fact, it felt more like a funeral, like the one for Laena, like the one for Laenor.

There was no music, there was no dancing, but it was enough.

It was enough to just be with them, to just be in their presence, hear their voices, be able to reach out and touch them if you wanted to. The subtle scents of their own, curling around you in a soft blanket.

You had reached for your goblet at one point during the night, mouth having gone dry at the mention of Aegon, and you had to hold in a scream, eyes finding your hands covered in blood once more. Your eyes had widened in shock, a small inhale ripped into your lungs, and Daemons careful eye from across the room had spotted you.

And though the maids had washed and scrubbed you vigorously, cleaning under your nails with careful hands, even though you knew in your heart that you were clean, it didn't stop your mind from seeing them soaked red with your lovers blood. Covered as they had been that morning.

And he was there.

Watching.

By the corner of the room.

Eye never leaving you.

But you kept a brave face, if only for a while longer, not daring to look where you hands would reach, grasping blinding in front of you, resulting in wine spilt and worried eyes. You had blamed your tired and shaky hands. For how were you to explain that when you looked down upon them you saw the proof of your misdeeds. The proof of your sin. The proof of your betrayal.

Then all too soon, exhaustion creeped over you, and your mother, noticing the shift, escorted you back to your chambers, and readily tucked you into bed, sitting on the side as she looked at you with nothing but love. She brushed your hair from your face, and without a word, climbed into bed beside you. She pulled you to her tightly, and you curled up against her, nestling your head into the crook of her neck to breathe deeply.

And as your eyes were closed, you let yourself pretend that it was him.

Sleep dragged you under, and no dreams haunted you this time, though you felt his presence behind you. And when you woke, still in her arms, her hand was holding your head against her as she breathed, fingers absentmindedly carding through your hair in thought. You shifted, looking up into her lilac eyes which seemed to be shadowed, dark rings on the skin beneath.

She had not slept.

“Did you rest?” You asked, eyes darting across her face as you shifted to sit up in bed.

“I have not slept since the day you left. And now that I have you in my arms again, I am frightened that my eyes shall close, and when they open and you will be gone.”

You swallowed thickly, “I would never leave you.”

Rhaenyra gave you a small smile, though edges pulled down into a frown.

“If it is your wish, I would not keep you here in the Keep. If the memories are-“ She paused, unsure of how to move on, “If it is too much to bear, I would not hold you here. I would not force you to stay.” She whispered, brushing your hair from your face.

You frowned at her, “I am your Hand. I am bound by duty to be at your side.”

Rhaenyra let out the breath she had been holding before she nodded, “Duty be damned, I think you have performed yours and then some, more than I ever would have asked you to." She breathed deeply, "The rest of the council and my men shall arrive today. There will be a trial, to convict those who have plotted against me. Those who aided Aegon in the usurpation of the throne. And those who kept you here.”

You shifted in the sheets as you looked at your mother. 

Her soft brows pulled slightly together, the frown lines that seemed to now permanently mar her skin, were present with the movements of her lips, which she pressed together into a thin line, moving to open again.

But you beat her to it, “Then we must be ready.”

And so, you were dressed in a black leather bustier, with large winged shoulders, the neck of the leather coming just below your chin. It was a shorter gown, coming just mid calf, and beneath, you wore black trousers and leather boots that tucked them inside, just below the knee. Across your chest was chains, hooped and long against your bust, each end being the opened mouth of a dragon on either side.

The girls braided your hair back, gentle and soft in their movements, both working together as they used small pins with red jewels at their tip to hold your hair up and off of your neck. And all the while, your eyes did not leave the Conquerors Crown that was placed atop the table, smears of blood on the steel and ruby.

Rhaenyra had already left, to be dressed and readied for court in her old chambers, joined by her husband. But you were rooted on the spot, unable to move as you looked at it, watching as the light from the sun caused the ruby to glimmer.

A blood red.

Blood.

Like the blood that had covered you. Like the blood you had tried to stop at Aemond’s neck. The blood that spilled through your hands and his and soaked the sheets and pillows below. The blood that had soaked you.

You would not dare look at your hands, for you knew what you would see.

You blinked and moved towards it.

But it was your crown.

Yours by right.

And so you lifted it, placing it atop your head, revelling in the weight that it pressed down your neck. The weight that then settled in your chest and gut. 

With determined steps, you left the chambers, blade tucked into a holder at your side, dried blood still smeared across its blade and hilt as you walked swiftly down to the throne room to meet your Queen, and meet with the rest of the council and Lords of the realm.

All ready to see and watch the true heir to the Iron Throne be seated where she should have always sat, from the moment Viserys had passed, and for her to cast down her judgement on those who went against her. 

Traitors and turncloaks alike.

When you entered the throne room, it was bursting with life, and the floor where Larys had laid was stained with his dried blood, a large smear across the stones from where his body had been dragged and removed.

All eyes were on you, each step echoing in the chambers as the people quietened, and your mother lifted her head.

Your father stood at the foot of the throne, Jacaerys beside him, as you came to stand before her.

Ser Erryk Cargyll announced you to the chambers, presenting your titles to the room, “Hand of the Queen.”

With a bow of your head, foot sliding beneath you, you pressed your knee upon the floor and reached a hand up, grasping the crown from your head as you held it towards her, “Your Grace, I give my crown lands and titles to you, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, the true heir to the Iron Throne.” When you stood again, you looked up at your mother who smiled gently at you.

“Princess Y/n, my daughter and first born, you have earnt that crown valiantly, through months of tireless work.” Her voice rose in the chambers, all still as they listened, “You may hold it in your possession, as a reminder of your deeds.” You could feel the eyes of all in the chambers flickering on the back of your head and then to the Queen who sat atop the throne.

“Your acts of bravery have not gone unnoticed, nor has your role in winning this war, and returning the throne and all the realms to me rightfully.” Jacaerys shifted at your fathers side, a small smile pulling at the side of his lips, “And at this time, the succession for the Iron Throne has changed.”

What?

Your breath stopped in your chest, eyes darting to Jacaerys who gave you the slightest tip of his head.

“Let all who stand here bear witness to the naming of my true successor. A successor who had been promised the throne once before.” Her eyes met yours, “Let it be known, that in the eyes of the Realm and before the Old Gods and the New, that my daughter, Princess Y/n Velaryon, is my heir and successor to the Iron Throne. Duty of the Hand of the Queen shall be placed upon Ser Corlys Velaryon.”

Heir.

Successor.

You blinked.

You were her heir.

You were the heir to the Iron Throne.

"But now," the Queen continued, "Is not the time for talks of succession and my rule. Now is the time to bring forth traitors and turncloak's who broke their oath to my father, King Viserys, and to me, the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms."

The sound of men around you shifted as they bowed their head towards you, your face in pure shock as you looked at them.

“Now,” The Queen boomed over the rising whispers in the chambers, “Bring forth the accused.”

You stepped on unsteady feet, unsure and uncertain as you came to stand beneath the throne on the opposite side of your brother and father, both who beamed at you with pride. The Conquerors Crown still in your hands, the cool Valyrian steel pressing into your palm.

But as the doors to the chambers were opened once more by guards, you had snuck a glance at your father, who was already watching you, and gave you a promissory nod. And so with certain hands, you lifted the crown once more, and settled it against your scalp.

Wild auburn hair appeared first, and then a gown of deep green as Alicent Hightower was dragged before the Iron Throne by Gold Cloaks. Each one stood behind her as her hands were locked in chains at her front, eyes flickering from you, to Rhaenyra, and then back to you.

And then you began.

“Lady Alicent Hightower. Dowager Queen of King Viserys. You stand before Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Roynar, and The First men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. You are bought here to be charged with crimes against the Crown. You are accused of treason.” Your voice carried through the chambers, the chains on Alicent’s wrists knocking against each other as she picked at her hands, fingers raw and bloody.

“You are charged with conspiring against the Crown to usurp the throne with Prince Aegon Targaryen and Ser Otto Hightower. You are charged with the conspiracy to cause harm to a Princess of the realm, and her wrongful imprisonment.”

“Rhaenyra, see reason. I beg you. Your father-“ Alicent began to plead.

“-My father,” Rhaenyra’s voice boomed, “Is dead. And you kept that hidden from the people for days, and rushed to crown Aegon as King in the Sept before the realm. You usurped the throne from its rightful heir and King Viserys’ successor, whom your House swore fealty to. Do you deny your charges?”

“I beg mercy! I only did as I believed was right. Viserys told me before he passed that he wished Aegon to sit the thr-”

“-You will have chance to make your own petition, Lady Alicent. Do Queen Rhaenyra the curtesy of letting the charges to be heard.” You held your head high, mimicking the same words she had said to your mother, a long time ago, “If the Lady Alicent Hightower speaks out of turn once more, cut out her tongue.” You watched as her face ashened, and her brows pulled together in desperation.

“You supplanted the Iron Throne’s rightful heir.” Rhaenyra growled, “You sent Aemond to slay my son, Prince Lucerys, the heir to Driftmark, who was an envoy in Storms End. And you have kept the Princess, my heir to the Iron Throne prisoner in this Keep under the hands of your rabid sons.”

“Please, Rhaenyra.” Alicent begged, “Am I to pay for the crimes of the wants of a father on his daughter? For the crimes of my sons? We were close, you and I. Friends!”

Daemon snickered beside the throne as he watched the Hightower woman beg.

Rhaenyra straightened, “What good is a friend who plots and grooms her sons into usurping the throne from its rightful heir? Their half-sister? From her supposed friend? These crimes are treason. And there are witnesses. A Maester who was slain here. Maids who had watched. Gold Cloaks, and servants, and Lords alike witnessed your crimes, Lady Alicent. Do you deny these charges?”

A tear fell from Alicent’s eyes as she sucked in a shuttering breath.

She stayed silent.

Rhaenyra looked at the woman from down her nose before speaking once more, delivering her conviction.

“For your crimes against the Crown, against my blood, and against the people of the realm, you are found guilty. I, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Roynar, and The First men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, sentence you to death by dragon fire.”

Alicent’s face morphed into horror, “No! Rhaenyra, please! I beg mercy! We are but women who had our hands forced by the men around us!” She cried into the chambers as she was dragged out by the Gold Cloaks, “What choice did I have?! Imprison me, Rhaenyra, I beg this of you!”

Alicent Hightower’s voice faded down the halls and walls she was dragged down, pleading for mercy, begging to the Seven for help. But the Seven did not hear to her prayers, for the Stranger was already on their way to take her.

Maester Orwyle was next, and the man stood silently as his charges were given to him. He did not speak, nor did he rebuke them, or plead for mercy. Instead, his dark brown eyes stared into your mothers with nothing more than disgust and pure hatred, until he was pulled away, the same way he came, back to the holding cells of the Dungeons you had once spent your days in, with his verdict. 

Guilty.

It was this way until the whole of the Green Council and turncloaks was laid before your mother, each one individually brought before the Queen, had their accusations of treason laid. Some were given the option to bend the knee to Rhaenyra and serve her in exchange for their lives, others were not. 

None, bar Lord Jasper Wylde, bent the knee.

And all, bar the Master of Laws, was sentenced to death.

The chamber of the Iron Throne was ripe with energy. Nervous, excited energy from Rhaenyra’s supporters as they watched on as they delivered the sentences to those who had betrayed or turned cloak against her. 

And then, the court was dismissed, and the Lords and her supporters were led outside of the Keep, to the mouth of Blackwater Rush, where a flat grassy knoll lay before the cliffs, and a worn path for traders was trodden upon. 

It was there where Lady Alicent Hightower was led, beside her Maester Orwyle, Ser Tyland Lannister, and the turncloaks, Lord Bourney, Butterwell, Mootey and Rosby stood in a line. 

The oceans breeze ruffled the cloaks and hair of all those in attendance, and Rhaenyra was the last one present. The final person to arrive. 

Above you, the large and excitable screech of a dragon who would finally be reunited with its rider. 

Alicent looked up the skies in fear, her hands clutched tightly together in prayer as she shut her eyes, mumbling to the Seven, begging for mercy, and guidance, and promises of good servitude if they grant her her life.

But dragons did not answer to the Gods.

Nor were they inclined to show mercy.

And so you watched, in delight and anticipation, as the large bronze dragon landed against the grass beside you, purring into the air with his large scarred snout, mouth full of jagged teeth opening, and eyes dancing over you. 

All watched as you reached out to touch him, the dragon rumbling deep in his chest as he leant into your hand. The bond sent sparks through your fingers and arms as you leant a forehead against him, breathing in his dragon smell, sulfur and smoke, and the distinct almost reptilian stench that they all carried. 

But your true reunion would have to wait, for the Queen and realm were waiting on you.

It was only right that you delivered the blow of justice. 

As heir.

As now stand in Hand before Corlys.

In fact, your mother and father had been most insistent upon it, if only you wanted to. 

And the Gods knew that you did.

The crowd of people shuffled backwards as Vermithor’s long tail beat against the ground forcefully, vibrating the earth beneath.

Alicent Hightower jumped in her spot, knuckles white as she stared at you in fear.

“You are guilty and have been charged of treason-”

“-I am innocent. I beg mercy, please. Rhaenyra, see reason!” Alicent cried out into the soft ocean breeze, her words lost to the crashing swell. Rhaenyra blinked impassively at the woman.

“Reason?” You parroted, “Mercy?”

“Please, it was the ambitions of a father onto his child. I had no play-“

“No play? None?” You sneered.

There was that rage again.

“I beg mercy. I will work in-“

“-Where was your mercy for the Queen when you usurped her throne?” You stiffened, Vermithor behind you growling, sensing your anger through the bond. 

“Where was your mercy for her sons? For Lucerys?”

“I was not at-“

The Bronze Fury shifted behind you, head coming to loom forward in the space beside, teeth bared as he growled at the woman who dropped to her knees in fear, legs giving out beneath her.

"Where was your mercy when you locked me in a cell? Where was your mercy when you let him rape me? Defile me.” You took a step forward towards her, “Hurt me.” 

Another step, and ice spread through your chest, “Where was your mercy when the King broke into my chambers?” You spoke dully this time, but inside you was the fire that you had hidden. Trampled by your own hands and feet in order to keep on, to keep moving. 

To survive.

Vermithor lifted his head into the sky and cried out shrilly, all around him flinching from the sudden movement. His large jaws opened, and a plume of fire shot into the air, the heat falling down around you hotly. 

You looked down at the woman who started it all. 

Her children. 

The usurp of your mother. 

The war. 

Lucerys. 

Syndor. 

Visenya. 

All of it.

“You are found guilty of treason, for the usurpation of the Iron Throne from its rightful heir. You are guilty of crimes to the Princess; Daughter and heir of the Queen. You are guilty of hiding the death of King Viserys from the people and Lords to conspire with turncloaks and oathbreakers. And you have been sentenced to death.”

You stared into the eyes of the woman before you, tears cascading down her cheeks as she looked up at you and pleaded, begged for her life, begged for mercy.

Prayed. 

Her hair was messed, her robes were crinkled and green, and as you looked at the woman you felt a surge of rage.

“Dracarys.”

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[angelaestheticbaby]

Late night talking

Summary: You long after him, he long after you. It's late night and he's lonely...What could happen?

Warnings: mention of Darklina, ooc Darkling, mutual pinning, sad Aleksander, confessions, smut (fingering, pussy eating, daddy kink, hair pulling), fluffy ending, no use of Y/N, lmk if I missed one

Minors do not read it. 18+ only

A/n: My first writing please be nice. I hope you like it. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. SORRY FOR THE MISTAKES.

You stepped into his office. He turned from the desk and looked at you. He raised one of his brows waiting for you to explain why your there.

"Uhm..." you tried to start but his presence made you feel dizzy and nervous.

"Don't be nervous." He replies in a calm and soothing voice, "I'm not the monster they make me out to be you know" as he says this, he sets down the glass and pen before walking over.

You can't help but feel a spark of attraction, as you notice his powerful frame towering over you. He smiles, gesturing for you to sit down on the comfortable looking sofa.

You hesitantly sat on the sofa. "So...I-I...the reason I'm here..." you stuttered.

He leans back against the desk, crossing one leg over the other. "You can speak freely, there's no need for fear here" he says, before gesturing for you to continue.

His eyes flicker across to you, studying your features intently. You feel your face go warm as your heartbeat quickens slightly.

"I just wanted to ask...Is it mandatory to appear tomorrow at the party?" you didn't really wanted to see him and Alina flirting all night.

You watch as he leans forward, his eyes still on you as a faint smile forms. "No" he answers simply, raising his head to stroke his chin.

When he looks at you again, the intensity of his gaze makes your heart flutter. "You're not interested in the King are you?" he asks, a slight smirk curling at the corners of his mouth.

"No...I just..." you hesitated before continuing. "It's not my victory. It's yours and Alinas..." you explained.

He gives a sharp chuckle at your words, "You fought in the battle too, did you not? It was the victory of the whole army, including you" When he smiles at you again, you feel even more overwhelmed. "I'm glad that you think that, but the king is very much the focal point of the celebration. You can't just sit out on an event like that" he says in a teasing tone.

"But I want to. I'm not really a party person and I hate crowd" you said. You looked up at him, he's soo much taller than you.

His gaze falls to your lips, before he shakes his head and looks away. "The king is counting on you to be there" he says, trying to sound firm and stern. "And I need you to be there too" he adds in a serious voice. In any other situation, it would be easy to stand your ground, but when you look at him, you feel like you'd do anything for him.

He gives you an amused look, before speaking in a smooth voice once again. "I want you to be there with me, at my side, for the celebrations" he says, his eyes darting towards your lips again.

"You?" you asked confusedly. "But I....We...Aren't you going with Alina?" you felt so lost.

"Alina's a big girl, she doesn't need me looking after her. And I need you" he replies, stepping even closer now. As he speaks, your eyes are drawn to his lips and you feel your heart racing. "I need you to join me on the dance floor" he says in a whisper, leaning closer still and brushing his hand against yours.

"I...I don't..." you were cut off by his soft lips. His kiss felt so calming and exciting at the same time. For a moment, everything around you fades into the background. You're aware of nothing except the touch of his lips and his strong hands holding you. His mouth slowly parts, then his tongue strokes your lips. Then he pulls away slowly, leaving his lips lightly brushing against yours.

You catch your breath, feeling as though you had been hit by a lightning bolt. When your head clears, you look up to find him smiling back at you. He leans in again for another kiss, only for his lips to move to your neck.

"Ohh" you moaned out as his lips touched the sensitive skin of your neck. He slightly nibbed the skin and tried to find your sweet spot. Your body tingles all over as he lightly nibbles your neck, and it's as though your muscles stop working, leaving you helpless. His other hand gently pushes down onto the sofa, urging you to lean back. He softly whispers something in your ear, but you can't quite hear it over the sound of your own breathing becoming more ragged. "Oh...Kirigan" you moaned and threw your head back, giving him more access to your neck.

His lips move back towards you ear. "I've been waiting for this moment" he whispers, his lips touching your sensitive earlobes. His hand starts working its way beneath your shirt, his fingers caressing your skin. You feel yourself completely at his mercy, and this only increases your desire.

"Have...saints...have you?" you were breathless and felt the wetness pooling between your thighs. His hand under your shirt started to wander upwards.

"It's been so difficult not to touch you" he whispers into your ear, his fingers moving up the length of your torso, caressing your waist, your hips. "But I had to be patient."

His hand moves back under your shirt, this time firmly on your back, pushing you into an even more reclined position. His words come out as breaths in between soft kisses. "I want to make you feel like the only girl in the world" he says, before biting your earlobe again.

"You...ahh you already...do" you choked put between moans. He pulls your hair slightly, and whispers back to you, his voice low and husky.

"Good" he leans back in, his fingers exploring every inch of your figure under your shirt. You feel everything building and building, like you're about to explode. As he speaks, you feel his hands move towards your chest. "But I want to make you feel it even more" he says, his voice still in a whisper as his hands reach their destination.

"Ohhh Kirigan" you cried out. You wanted to know his real name to moan it...

As if he could read your mind he said; "Aleksander" he whispers, his voice sounding incredibly soft and soothing as he says his own name. As soon as you hear it, it feels like his name is branded into your mind. As he says his name, his soft lips move down to kiss your chest, and you feel his hands squeezing and caressing you. He lifts his head, and you see a light of desire in his eyes. He looks at you deeply and then leans in again for a passionate kiss.

"Aleksander" it felt so right to say it. "Beautiful" you whispered to him.

"My love" he whispers in reply, his lips still brushed against your ear. His hand shifts, and you can feel him rubbing his thumb along the sensitive skin of your breast. He leans in closer again to whisper in your ear.

"I want you to feel how beautiful you are" his words sound like a love song, his voice being so low and husky.

"Aleksander"

As soon as you finish saying his name, his lips press against yours with a great deal of passion, his grip on you only tightening. His other hand slides back under your shirt and starts exploring the curves and swells of your breasts in a teasing manner.

You moaned as he pressed you into the sofas soft mattress. His whole body fitted to your small one like it was meant to be this way. His hands continue to explore you gently and teasingly. You feel the pace increasing, but are caught in a state of euphoria. You press yourself even harder into the soft seat, your body feeling as though it's lost all function.

He looks down at you, his dark hair lightly falling across his face. Your eyes drift to his full lips, just barely parted as he looks down at you.

"You look...so..gorgeous Aleksander" you brushed the dark curls from his eyes.

"Not as beautiful as you" he replies in a low and husky voice, as his hands make their way down to your chest once again.

"So soft and sensitive" he says softly, caressing you gently before leaning down in for another kiss. As you look up at his face, you notice his pupils have dilated, and his breath comes in rapid and sharp gasps. His lips and tongue gently explore the sensitive spots on your chest. His other hand has shifted up your neck to your hair again, which he gently pulls to force you back into the seat.

"Please" you whined. You desparetly wanted his lips on you.

"My love" he breathes out slowly, his hand stroking your face. He shifts closer to you as his mouth moves further south until his lips touch your soft thigh. He gently pinched your hard nipples and sucked one into his mouth. You arched your back and pulled on his hair. The way pleasure travelled through you made you shiver.

"My god..." you groaned.

His fingers run along your thigh, drawing out sensations and anticipation. Even the smallest touch sends shivers down your spine, as he speaks in a low voice.

"Beg for it" he says, his eyes watching you and that slight smirk still in place on his lips.

"Please...Aleksander...please I need it..so bad" you cried impatiently. He hears your words, as well as his name, and it sends a sharp thrill through his body, only increasing the intensity of your connection. His lips touch you again, but it's light and teasing. He pulls away slightly, his eyes looking down at you.

"You have to beg harder" he says with low husky voice, his eyes still on yours.

"I...please...I'll do anything..please Aleksander" you bucked your hips to his mouth.

His hand strokes your torso as his other hand comes up behind you, gently pushing you into the seat. "That's more like it" he says, the smirk still at the corners of his mouth. "But you still haven't begged hard enough. Tell me who you belong to" je says, his voice taking on a commanding tone.

"You...You Aleks. I belong to you" you said hoping he'll give you want you want.

His eyes look at you with a blazing fire, his hands quickly moving down your thighs and over your body. His dark eyes never leave yours, his breath getting deeper as he watches you.

"Good girl." He whispers, his voice hoarse and husky, as his lips come down to kiss you. You kissed him back. His tongue exploared your mouth and danced with yours.

"Hmm" you moaned happily.

"That's a good girl" he says in a breathless voice, his lips separating from yours for a moment. As they brush against each other again, your lips part to his exploration. You feel every inch of your body being touched and caressed, his hands making you shiver with every movement. He shifts his mouth to your throat, your legs beginning to weaken and buckle under the pleasure overload.

You were so desparet to have his lips on you. You felt how the wetness of your pussy began make a puddle on the mattress. His fingers brushed aganist your wet core and he looked up at you.

"Soo wet" he hissed.

"I want to taste you" he says, his expression turning savage and animalistic. His hand slides back down over your wet thighs, as he looks down at your core.

"Such a perfect pussy" he leaned down and licked over your folds.

"Aleks...saints so.." you cried out. He gently started to suck and nibble on your clit. He talented fingers caressed your slit and pushed carefully into you.

"Ohh my" you stared moving your hips, but he pushed them down. You grabbed his hair and moaned loudly. "Daddy.." it slipped out so easily, but you regret it immediatly.

He lifts his head at the sound of your words, looking down at you with a smirk on his face. "Oh, what did you just call me?" he asks in a low voice and it makes you shiver all over. His hands shift towards your hips once again, forcing you to stay in place.

"Say it again" he gritted out. The way you moaned it made his erection worse. He needed to be in you...But first you will moan it loudly.

"D-daddy" you hesitantly said. Your words have him closing his eyes, his face contorting into a feral expression, he growled lowly. He looked at you with such lust and soft loving at the same time.

A look of pure lust and desire is in his eyes as he stares back at you, his breath becoming sharp and shallow. "Again love" he says in a voice that sounds half wild and savage.

"Daddy" you said much more confident now. His fingers moved fast in you. He leans in and kisses you before slowly pulling away, speaking in a low voice that's just enough to drive you crazy. "Again.." he says, and there's that smirk again, his eyes full of desire.

"You...you like it?" you asked. He nods at you in a slow and seductive manner.

"Very much love" he says, his hand stroking along your jaw. The look he gives you makes you clench around his fingers.

So you said...more like moaned it again.

"Daddy" he gripped your hips in respond. He seems to enjoy the sound of that name a lot, his eyes closing for a moment before he looks back at you. The grip of his fingers gets firmer when he hears it again. He leans in and whispers deeply in your ear.

"Good girl..."

He curled his fingers in you, reaching your G-spot. It made you moan loud. You feel yourself being slowly pulled deep into the sea of euphoria that only he could give you.

"Cum" he commanded. And you did.

His long fingers pumped in you fast and hard, the white, hot pleasure blinded you and you threw your head back. When you came down from your high, you opened your eyes.

He leans in closer to you, kissing your neck. "You're so beautiful when you come love" he says in a quiet voice, still caressing you. "I want you to look at me every time you come"

"This was amazing" you panted as you cling to him. "Thank you Aleks" you kissed his lips gently. He kisses you back, his hands moving down your body.

"Anytime my love" he says in a low voice, his eyes darting around the room. You see the look in his eyes as they land on something that catches your eye too- a beautiful gold locket hanging from the necklace he was wearing. It has your two initials on the front, and for a moment he looks away when you look at it. He quickly looks back at you. "Come here" he says, in a voice that commands your attention.

You moved closer.

"Since when did you have had this?" you asked as you touched the necklace. He looks down at you, that hint of sadness still in his eyes. It's just a small flicker that lasts a split second, before it goes away. But you noticed it. He looks down at the locket.

"I suppose now's the best time to tell you" he says in a soft voice. He takes a deep breath before continuing.

"I had it custom-made. I've liked you for a very long time now. And I knew that one day...it will you that I would want to be with forever. And so I had it made..for the day I had the courage to finally tell you"

"Ohh Aleks. You've been wearing our inatials all this time?" you teared up as grabbed the necklace. You brushed your fingers over it.

He nods at you, his voice low and soft. "I was hoping, you know? That one day you might see it, or notice that it was important. And I was waiting, hoping for the day that you might actually say that you cared too."

The way he says it, it almost seems like he has a difficult time believing that you feel the same way as he does. "I never got the chance to give you the necklace, so I guess that was my way of keeping you close to me."

"That's....I love you" you let it slip out. His eyes light up as he hears those words come out of your mouth.

"You do?" he asks, still looking at the inital necklace in your hand. "You love me?" he asks, his voice sounding both excited and surprised. "Please, you'll have to say it again" he says, a small smile on his face in response to what you said. "So I can hear it for myself to be sure I'm not going crazy."

"I do, for the longest time my love. I love you" you happily wrapped yourself in his hold.

"I love you"

Those words seem so simple, yet they mean so much.

He pulls you in tighter, kissing you deeply. His kisses are filled with all of the love and adoration that he'd been wanting to share with you but never had the chance to. His hand goes back to stroking your cheek, and his lips leave yours for a moment to whisper another

"I love you"

#ben barnes #the darkling #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #darkling x reader #the darkling fanfic #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes imagine

[joedirtymadre]

Cocky - Part 1

SABO X READY! FLUFF! (PLEASE SEND REQUESTS!)

You were practicing Fish-man Karate with Hack. You were lucky enough to learn, as Hack wasn’t too sure if you would get the hang of it. “I don’t know why you didn’t choose to learn the Dragon Claw Fist,” Sabo sighed as he watched you two.

“It looks interesting, plus your fighting style doesn’t really suit me,” you explained. “Ah…” Sabo sulked. “Oh come on, we all know you just want some alone time with (Y/N)~” Koala cooed. “H-Huh!?” Sabo asked. “Why else would you beg her to learn the Dragon Claw Fist,” she laughed. “Cause it’s a good technique!” He defended. “Sure~ Sure~” Koala shrugged, as she walked away.

“Well that’s enough for today,” Hack said. “Alright, thank you again for teaching me Hack,” you smiled. “If I were you I’d go pay some attention to your pal over there,” Hack said softly as he patted my shoulder. “Huh?” You questioned and looked over to a bummed Sabo. You rolled your eyes and walked over.

You took a seat next to him, “Hi Sabo,” you smiled. “Hi (Y/N)…” he said softly. “So what’s that one move you do? Where your hand looks like a scary dragon’s claw,” you asked as you shaped your hand like a claw. “You really wanna know?” He asked, with sparkling eyes. “Yeah,” you laughed. “Well it’s like this,” he said as he carefully grabbed your hand and fixed the form.

You looked up and realized how close he was… “So then you keep your hand like this. Hey, are you listenin-“ Sabo cut himself off as he looked up and realized how close he was. He immediately backed away, his face turning into a tomato. “S-Sorry! Didn’t realize how close I got…” he stumbled. “It’s f-fine…” you said as you felt your cheeks heat up.

It’s not like you’ve never thought Sabo was handsome, but you never really considered any relationships once you’ve joined the revolutionary army. But now… you’re feeling your heart race a little. “Hey (Y/N)? (Y/N)!” He said as he waved a hand in front of your face. You were snapped out of your thoughts, “O-Oh, sorry about that. I was just thinking of something,” you explained.

“Were you thinking about how handsome I am?” Sabo said, cockily. “In your dreams,” you rolled your eyes and stood up. “Hey! Where are you going?” He asked as he followed you. “To grab something to eat, wanna join me?” You asked as you turned around. “Ooh! Asking me on a date now, are we?” Sabo asked, raising one of his brows. “Nevermind…” you sighed. “No! No, I’ll come,” he said as he ran after you.

You smiled as he reached you. You looked over secretly and watched how cool he was trying to look. He had his hands in his pockets and his head held high. “See something you like?” He asked, as he looked over to you. “Just noticed how you're about to trip over a rock,” you pointed out. “A ro-!” He cut himself off as he did trip over a medium sized rock. You walked over and knelt down beside him. “I told you, should’ve listened to me,” you giggled as you noticed his face turn red from embarrassment.

“Awe, are you blushing? Must be because I’m here,” you said, deciding to join in on the jokes. “You’re right,” he said smoothly, making you disheveled. “H-Huh?” You stuttered, as you felt your cheeks heat up again. He slowly sat up and faced you, “You’re right, I can’t keep my cool around you,” he frowned. “Haha, nice jok-“ he interrupted you. “I’m not kidding, whenever you’re around I don’t act like myself…” he said slowly.

“Y-You’re just messing with me…” you blushed. “I’m not,” Sabo said as he carefully, but quickly grabbed my hand. You felt your face explode, “Look who’s blushing now, probably cause I’m here, right?” he smirked. “So you are messing with me!” You huffed as you used your free hand to smack his head. “Ow!” He said. You quickly stood up and marched off to the cafeteria. “Wait! (Y/N)!” You heard Sabo call out, but you were too steamed up and a little embarrassed. So you continued your stomping to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. “Stupid Sabo, and his stupid cute face,” you muttered.

Sabo’s POV

“(Y/NNN)…” I whined as I watched her stomp away. “You messed up, huh?” Koala asked, popping out of nowhere. “Yeah…” I said, tearfully. “Idiot,” Koala sighed. “Yeah, I know…” I pouted. “But I’ll get her one day, she’ll eventually fall for me,” I said, quickly regaining composure. “That cocky attitude is what made you mess up in the first place,” Koala pointed out. “What can I say, it’s part of my charm,” I smirked and headed off to find (Y/N).

#anime fanfic #fanfic #fluff #x reader #anime #one piece fluff #one piece #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x you #revolutionary sabo #one piece sabo #sabo x reader #sabo x y/n #sabo fluff #one piece Sabo x reader #koala one piece #one piece luffy #one piece fanfiction

[sagesolsticewrites]

Hiya could you do Harry Crosby + “ if you asked me to marry you tomorrow, i'd say yes. “ “ what about today?” from one of your drabble prompt lists please and thanks 💛

Thank you so much for requesting, Nonnie! I’ve adored these Masters of the Air requests, especially getting to write for Harry my love!! Our favorite navigator 🥰

Quick warning that there is a nonzero chance of historical inaccuracies here, and the timeline may be a little off, but I did actual research for this one y’all! New additions to the ever-growing Useless Knowledge section of my brain: knowing where Lt. Harry Crosby studied for college (he was working on his graduate degree at the University of Iowa when the Pearl Harbor attack occurred; he went back to finish his degree there in 1947 and earned his PhD from Stanford University in 1953!), when and why he joined the Army Air Forces (paused his studies at U of I to enlist after Pearl Harbor), and where he was sent for his training (Mathers Field, California) before being stationed in Idaho, and eventually at East Anglia. Look at me go lol 🤪 Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

a/n: well, that’ll teach me not to try to format my fics on mobile 😂 I guess the Harry fic’s coming out today! Hope you like it Nonnie <3

Masterlist

Just Say Yes

You waited anxiously under the maple tree at the edge of the campus courtyard, fiddling with the worn, creased paper in your hands — Harry’s last letter, telling you that this next visit home would likely be his last before he was transferred to Idaho, and then to who knows where.

I’ll meet you under our tree, pretty girl, the letter had read, Saturday, our usual time?

The tree— the very maple tree you stood in the shade of now— was where you had met often when you were both students at the University of Iowa, studying English. The tradition had started when you were paired up for a project, and Harry asked if you would mind working outside.

“I think better in the fresh air,” he had said, almost apologetically, and you had agreed almost instantly, captivated by the quiet but clearly very smart boy who sat next to you in class.

Even after the project was over and graded, you continued to meet under that tree nearly every day at 2 o’clock after class to compare class notes or exchange feedback on essays.

And after nearly four months of meeting and working together, it was under that tree where Harry Crosby finally asked you out on a date.

Leaning back against the tree, you were jolted out of your trip down memory lane by a familiar voice calling your name.

Grinning, you turned to see Harry strolling towards you, dapper in his dress uniform, one arm raised in greeting, the other cradling a bouquet of tulips— your favorite.

You pushed off from the tree, unable to wait a single second longer, and sprinted to meet him, uncaring of the students staring at the crazy lady running across their campus.

He opened his arms as the distance between you lessened until you crashed into him, burying your head in his chest. He stumbled back a bit, absorbing your momentum, but he was quick to embrace you, quicker still to turn your momentum into a dizzying, joyous twirl, lifting your feet off the ground.

You let out a gleeful laugh as the world spun around you, and pulled him in for a long-overdue kiss once your feet were firmly back on the ground.

After the two of you reluctantly pulled apart, you cupped his face in your hands, drinking him in: lips stained red from your lipstick, hat knocked askew, uniform now more than a little wrinkled, and best of all, those warm brown eyes you had missed so much overflowing with love.

He looked as dapper as ever.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured with a smile, a greeting for your ears only.

It had been so long since you’d heard those words from his lips, and all you could do was blink back the tears that sprang to your eyes as you replied with a simple, tender “Hi.”

Understanding filled his eyes, and he pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead and allowing you a moment to compose yourself before the two of you headed back towards your tree.

“Oh!” He said, holding the bouquet out to you as if he just now remembered he had it, “For you, m’lady.”

You took the bouquet, fingering the delicate pink and yellow petals. “They’re beautiful, Harry,” you smiled up at him, “Thank you.”

“Anything for my girl,” he said, gesturing for you to sit and make yourself comfortable first before he settled next to you in the shade.

“So,” he said, wrapping an arm around you, “Tell me everything. What have I missed? How’d that paper go that you were telling me about?”

You couldn’t help but light up at the mention of your latest paper— your pride and joy, your best work yet if you didn’t say so yourself— and at Harry’s encouraging smile, you rambled on about themes and motifs and parallels, Harry occasionally chiming in with a suggestion that made the connections you had made even clearer.

Despite the plethora of letters you had sent each other, each doing your best to keep the other updated, you and Harry never seemed to run out of things to talk about: the conversation flowed from your latest paper to how Harry had been giving the guys some book recommendations based on your suggestions, to the small bookshop you had taken to visiting, compiling a list of titles for him that you thought he’d enjoy. Harry mentioned that some of his comrades had set up a small library of sorts in the barracks, running on the honor system, but they’d likely need to shut it down soon, with people moving to their more permanent placements.

“Oh that reminds me,” Harry said, digging in his pocket for a moment before triumphantly revealing a scrap of paper with his distinctive scrawl.

“Plenty of the guys are getting letters from their wives and sweethearts,” he said, slipping you the small piece of paper with the address of his next assignment in Boise, “I wanna make sure I’m one of ‘em.”

“Getting letters from your wife, or your sweetheart?” You asked playfully, tucking the slip of paper safely in your pocket.

“Uh.. Well, I mean…” Harry stammered, trying very hard not to think about the small box in his pocket.

“Hey,” you pause to assure him, “I was just kidding.” Under the shade of your tree, you rested your head on his shoulder, looking out at the courtyard. “I know we’re a little young, but…” You took a deep breath, entwining your fingers with his, “If you asked me to marry you tomorrow, I’d say yes.”

You caught the barest hint of movement out of the corner of your eye, and you glanced over to see a small box held out to you.

A box in Harry’s hand that was open to reveal a delicate gold ring.

“What about today?” Harry asked softly, close enough that his breath brushed your cheek.

“I— Harry—” You were speechless, your world zeroing in on that small gold band before realizing that you had been silent for far too long.

You nodded furiously, turning to kiss him before you could even get the words out.

“Is that a—”

Harry’s tentative question was cut short by your lips crashing onto his. His hands came up to cup your cheeks, kissing you back with equal fervor, the ring box left in your lap.

You both eventually pulled away, gasping for air. Harry’s forehead remained pressed to yours, chocolate brown eyes locked on you.

“Was that a yes?” He asked, lips still just barely brushing yours, and you could feel him trying not to smile.

You were an English major. There were a thousand words you could have said, a thousand speeches of acceptance and love and devotion you could have made.

Only one word mattered to you just then.

“Yes.”

#sage answers #my writing #harry crosby #lt harry crosby #masters of the air #masters of the air x reader #harry crosby x reader #anthony boyle #anthony boyle harry crosby #anthony boyle lt harry crosby #anthony boyle x reader

[coriander-cilantro]

A few months back I chose to write my final critical analysis paper in my written communications class on Attack on Titan. I would like to rewrite parts of it and then release the full thing, but for now I figured I would share the part I wrote for theme. The theme is chose to focus on for this paper was the cyclical nature of violence and how it is shown in the story. Please enjoy 😊 🙏

While Attack on Titan presents many themes throughout its run, one of the most prominent in the final season is on the cyclical nature of violence and how it does no good as it goes on. The war between Marley and Paradis has been going on for two thousand years, and the people alive in the world today have only known this war, not even having a true answer to what started the war to begin with. A great example of how the cycle of violence affects the people within it is again found in the character Gabi. A child soldier, Gabi has known nothing but the war her entire life. Because of the propaganda promoted by the country, she views the inhabitants of Paradis as inherently evil. This, combined with Eren’s attack on her home, are what lead her to climbing aboard the airship and killing a soldier. When she gets to Paradis and is imprisoned, she continues to act recklessly and even kills her guard to escape the prison. It is then she is mistaken for an orphan and taken in by none other than the parents of the girl she had killed. They have no knowledge of who she actually is, but are immediately willing to show her kindness and take her in. When they learn who she actually is, the family turns against her, and it is suggested that the soldier’s father kills her to balance out the death of his daughter. He refuses, though. He speaks of raising his daughter, teaching her to protect herself in the woods where they lived and raised her. Using the forest as a metaphor for the cycle of violence, he explains further. When she went off to join the military, she only traded her home for a bigger forest. She only died because she wandered in the forest for too long, staying in the army she was bound to die, but she knew no other life. Gabi has also been raised in the forest so to speak. She has grown up in this war and has known nothing but violence, which has led her to being in this situation at such a young age, having no experience to know any better. The father addresses the other adults around him, stating that as the adults, as the ones who know how to do better, it is their job to lead the lost children out of the forest, and show them the truth behind the violence they have always known. It is his words, his explanation and his willingness to accept her actions, as well as the acceptance of the rest of the family that leads Gabi to seeing the truth of the world. She realizes that Eldians are not inherently evil, and that neither of the perspectives she was fed are particularly correct. After this she becomes significantly less recklessly violent, and begins to actually fight for what she, not her country, thinks is right--an end to the war on both sides. The show not only focuses on the cyclical nature of war and its effects, but also encourages the idea of one day being able to escape it.

#attack on titan season 4 #attack on titan #aot #gabi braun #aot analysis