I Find This Oddly Sweet.

I find this oddly sweet.

hi, can I request a plus size reader who keeps running away from könig bc she thinks she's undesirable but the chase just makes könig get turned on ever more? and he finally dominate her, breeding her full and a lil dub con would be nice.

sorry if's too much and sorry the English, it's my 2nd language. btw big ass fan of your writing :(

plus size!reader who thinks she’s undesirable despite the affection her big boyfriend showers her in :(( nowt wrong with your english, pet. and i’m a big arse fan of you 🫵🏻 :3

mdni. slight dub-con, cat and mouse pursuit, obsessive/yandere themes, in public, no foreplay :(, praise, sappy and sloppy, dom x sub, shy!reader, down-bad könig, very big-dicked könig :((, belly bulge, breeding kink, creampie !! not proofread </3

creds to the original creator of this image, whoever ya are ((:

you’re not sure how long you’ve been walking aimlessly, lost in thought. you just don’t feel good enough for him. he’s so beautiful — perfect in every aspect of whatever ‘perfect’ equates to. you’d bagged the austrian war machine somehow, at some point. he’d approached you in a club, noticing you alone and nursing the same drink since you’d arrived, stirring the liquor with an olive-speared cocktail stick. the rest is history.

but you just can’t wrap your head around the fact that he’s yours. you’re in love the fact that you’re his. but why is he so content with you? he should be with a woman of athletic stature, like him. right? you’ve asked him before, and every time he tells you, “you think too much, schatz. i love you the way you are. i do not care for shape or size.”

and könig would remind you that he’s no arnold schwarzenegger or apollo creed himself. he has thick, meaty thighs and bulky shoulders — almost too wide for his body. he has firm fat on his pectorals that jiggle when he walks, like yours. his stomach folds when he sits down and bends over, quite chubby in the lower region where his pubic bone extends. his biceps aren’t defined or ripped, but more beefy with a little squidge if you pinch them.

and he doesn’t give a flying fuck. in fact, he’ll care when fucks can fly. he doesn’t understand why you’re so conscious of your appearance. könig worships your body. he’ll touch you whenever the opportunity strikes, hands cupping, massaging, rubbing, stroking, resting as soon as the chance presents itself. but you just can’t accept that his admirations and reassurances are genuine. he’s too good for you. he should be with someone who is confident and self-assured. someone who’s willing to give themselves to him sexually.

it’s your own low opinion of yourself that’s holding back the intimate domains of your relationship; in the sense that you’ve not had sex yet. again, könig doesn’t care. he’ll wait for you. he’ll wait until fucks fly (preferably the fuck you give about your weight), but he understands it’s a deep and meaningful forte.

and great, now you don’t know where you are. you stop in your tracks, glancing around at your surroundings. you’re losing light as the setting sun kisses the horizon, the silhouette of distant trees skimming the pinkish clouds. you pull your phone from your pocket — he’s been blowing it up. fifty messages at least. you could backtrack, you guess. but then you’d have to face him. you’ve done this before, left your shared home. he finds you every time, but he’s never mad. only ever concerned and self-deprecating, rambling that he should be better.

so you keep walking, fingers kneading at your tummy as you do. your lower belly moves independently from your physique with the low incline of your stride — but only slightly. no one else would notice, not that they’d be looking. but you always notice, and it makes you feel like you matter a little less. you’re walking away from the one person who makes you feel like you belong. who lets you know that you have every right to feel comfortable in your own skin. but he shouldn’t have to, because he should be with someone prettier. someone skinnier.

your phone rings then, a selfie of you and könig displaying as his caller id shows on the screen. you swallow, still wandering like a headless chicken towards the treeline up ahead. “hey.” you answer, twigs snapping beneath your feet once you reach the woods. “why are you doing this again, mein liebe?” his voice is soft and inquisitive. he’s so patient with you. “i’m sorry.” you sniffle, emotions finally getting to you. “i can’t give you what you want.”

“and what is it i want that you think you can’t give me?” he asks you, his signal slightly distorted. it sounds like he’s outside too, probably looking for you. you don’t answer his question, holding the phone to your ear as you walk in silence. leaves rustle beneath you, birds chirping above.

“you look beautiful today, haser. that dress is new, ja?”

you stop dead, heart plummeting into your churning gut. you spin on the spot as you look around, eyes darting like a compass in a blizzard. “könig?” your voice wavers, chest heaving as you scan every bush, every tree, every fallen trunk. “did you follow me again?” now it’s your turn for the silent treatment. “könig, where are you?”

“run.”

and you swear you can already hear his footsteps thundering towards you when you flee, the call still connected as you sprint through shrubbery and branches. an evil chuckle echoes from his line and you whimper, nostrils flaring and cheeks burning as you hurry, weaving the obstacles of nature in your path. “that’s right, little rabbit. don’t let me catch you.” his sinister voice tells you — distorted. “let’s make a deal.”

you glance over your shoulder, almost tripping over as your legs carry you haphazardly through the brush. “if you escape, i promise not to come for you.” his voice proposes, but you swear you can hear it somewhere behind you. ”but if i catch you, you’ll never leave me again. ja?”

you cry out, exhausted. doubling over, you brace yourself against the nearest tree, face glistening with a thin film of sweat. you hang up the phone, huffing out staggered breaths while you check the coast is clear. something snaps nearby, no doubt under the heel of a combat boot. you clasp a hand over your mouth and nose, steadying your breaths. the phone rings again and your heart drops when his face appears on your screen. a notification pops down, then.

pick up, herzchen.

you swipe it away and stub your thumb onto the red button, declining his call. leaning back, you allow your head to thud against the tree, windswept hair sticking to the rough bark like velcro. your heart rate skips when movement to your left alerts you of your uninvited company. he’s closer than you’d anticipated. your mobile vibrates yet again in your palm and your resolve crumbles. “leave me alone, please.” you plead with him, eyes flitting back and forth. he chuckles, darkly. a shiver rockets down your spine.

“you look ravishing, my dear; panting against that tree like that. i can see your skin sweating through your new dress. are you trying to turn me on?”

your lips part to retort, but you feel a hot breath fan over your neck and you shriek, dropping your phone as you duck away and swivel on the balls of your feet. he’s standing behind the tree, tall and menacing. his blue eyes pierce into your wide ones, wild and feral. you hadn’t heard him approach you. he’s frighteningly sneaky for his size.

“caught you, little mouse.”

you start to back away, shaking your head ‘no’ with your arms outstretched. but as quick as a hiccup he’s launching himself at you, pouncing on his prey as he tackles you to the forest floor. you squeal, the wind knocked out of you as he settles himself above you, parting your legs with his hand. “oh, schatz. you must stop running from me. i’ll always find you.”

you sniffle, hands weakly attempting to push him off. “why? why do you keep coming back for me?” his mask shifts as he frowns, head tilting like a curious mutt. “you are my liebling, nein? and also, finders keepers.” his hands caress the soft slope of your belly and the pudge of your sides, before sliding down to embrace the plump curves of your hips. “but why me?” you ask again, attempting to squirm away from his touches.

“i believe there is somebody out there for everyone.” he tells you, lifting your dress up so he can reveal your clothed pussy to him. stretch marks decorate your lower belly and upper thighs, faint cellulite dimples peppering the loose flesh. the sight gives him a drastic erection, the rigid outline of his straining cock imprinting the front of his cargos. “and you are my somebody.”

you wiggle and writhe when his hands vacate yours to arrive at his belt, fumbling to unbuckle it. “könig, anyone could see.” you whisper, raising your head to look around. he shushes you, gently pushing your head back down, before traipsing his finger down the divot of your cleavage, over the swell of your tummy, and between your legs. you suck in a shallow breath when he hooks the hem of your cotton panties, ripping them from you like it’s no biggie.

“no one comes out here. only silly girls who insist on running away, ja?” he confidently states, freeing his hard cock with a relieved sigh. your eyes bulge from their sockets, jaws literally dropping. he’s fucking huge, his cockhead sitting above his belly button when his length springs upright to slap his stomach. your pussy clenches at the thought of it being inside you, juices drooling down your arse crack of their one accord.

“let me show you, mausebärchen… how much i love this body of yours.” he crawls over you, his sniper hood draping over your chin and neck when his face levels with yours. you can only gawk up at him wordlessly, dumbfounded. your heart thaws at his determination to make you feel valued and attractive. you muster a small smile, eyes starting to water when he humps the swollen tip of his dick through your slick folds.

the stretch alone of your pussy lips spreading for him stings, and you can only imagine the pain of what’s to come when he finally enters you. “i will be gentle, haser.” he assures, as if reading your mind. “but i am big, so it will be… uncomfortable, no matter what.” you nod, eyes unable to part ways with his.

soon, he’s lubricated himself in your wetness enough to contemplate pushing in, cockhead resting heavily at your entrance. he tucks his face into your neck when he begins to roll his hips forward and you wince, squeezing your eyes shut as your fingers curl into the dirt beneath you. könig bends your legs, granting himself an easier angle to work with as he manouvers himself into you, his belly sandwiching against yours. you whimper, tears spurting with the dull ache of your cunt widening dramatically to take him.

“you’re doing so well, meine liebling. just a little more.” he praises you, hips still rocking gently as he tries to fit his impressive length between your tight walls. he’s slotted halfway into you so far, and he knows you’re struggling to adjust. “never mind.” he decides, propping himself on one arm so he can wipe the tears from your flushed cheeks. “i will not go any deeper.”

you frown, feeling guilty. “a-are you sure?” you peer between you, seeing a good portion of his cock still exposed. “ja, schatz. if you can only take my tip, that’s all you will get.” he practically demands as he commences soft strokes, thrusting his cockhead through your velvety cunt slowly and thoughtfully. you gasp, hands flying to cling onto his back, the muscles beneath his skin twitching and rippling with his efforts.

it takes ever fibre of self-control for könig to not ram his entire cock into your soaked cunny, having to bite his lip until he tastes blood to refrain from snapping his hips all the way. “gott, you’re so tight. so beautiful.” he drawls, hands planting on either side of your head, the lewd sounds of heavy breathing and broken moans filling the clearing. your pussy squelches around him, gradually sucking a little more of his length with each careful drag of his cock.

his gaze is fixated on your stomach, a few rolls present thanks to way he has you positioned. he can see the bump of his cockhead bulging below the flesh as he starts to sink deeper, a raw heat stirring in his balls. “perfect body for a mother.” he mindlessly tells you, and you swear you can see drool soaking through his mask. “let me make you one. let me fill you with my child, ja?”

you mewl, nails scratching at his back through the fabric of his compression shirt. “oh god, whatever you want.” you moan, face contorted with pleasure. “shit- ah!”

he grunts, retaining a deliberate and dexterous pace within you as he concentrates on giving your body the treatment it deserves. “i will breed you, liebe. i’ll breed you so full.” he blurts deliriously, drowned out by your cock-drunk whines. he chases the ambition with admirable determination, grunts and even whimpers falling from his mouth as he breeds your pussy — slurping around him.

before long you start to tremble, a white bliss bubbling in your loins as your uterus contracts. könig curses, sweat dampening his hood as his tempo starts to stutter and jitter. you wrap your limbs around him like a cub, face nuzzling in his chest to muffle your cries when you finally succumb to the rapture, milking him dry as he hits the same high in tandem with you.

he continues rocking into you, knees surely bruised and his trousers definitely mud-stained as he stays bent over your frame, mumbling drowsily about planting his baby in your pretty stomach. he doesn’t stop until he’s certain you couldn’t be any more full up.

“Narcissus does not fall in love with his reflection because it is beautiful, but because it is his.”

I just KNOW that if she didn't have magic in season 1 when Bloom dragged Riven verbally, she would have also dragged him physically. Bloom is always down to fight, especially in season 1.

Bloom is an impulsive little shit. You mean to tell me there wasn't at least one time where the impulsive thought won and she said fuck your magic and swung? I call bullshit. Her opponents gotta keep Bloom at a distance because she will bite.

Glass Bones and Paper Skin

Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader

More Platonic Bruce x Reader than Batfam, but they are mentioned and will have a bigger role in the future.

Trigger Warnings: Hint at suicide, Body Issues, Eating problems (not a disorder), Child Neglect

Just a reminder for everyone, your bodies are perfect and beautiful! Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise.

Part 2

Part 3

Blinding lights and hundreds of eyes are enough to thwart people from the runway. It makes people stumble, trip, or even run from it. Their mind focuses on if they mess up, the world will see. Their managers, agencies, everyone will forever refer to it when they ask them to walk for them again. 

They focus on their walk, the way the clothing either hugs or drapes off their bodies, how the shoes don’t fit, the way their hair is styled, and how the makeup can burn. They try not to focus on how their stomachs ache, how the heels cut into the thin skin on their feet, and that everyone in this room that is dressed and prepped, are equally or more or less beautiful than them. 

Y/N L/N seemed to be the topic of conversation at all of these events. A newer runway model who has been eating it up. From their first runway debut to this one, they have always left people in awe and dropping to their knees for more. It is hard to believe that they are only 18. Y/N has been a photoshoot model since 15, but on their birthday when they turned 18, they finally agreed to their agency’s desire to make them take on the runway. 

It was the best choice for their career. Y/N’s manager was the daughter of their mother’s manager, back when she was alive and used to do modeling. Her manager threw her own daughter at Y/N, and stated that they were the best people to work with because they know Y/N. Whether Y/N was cursed or not –they have yet to figure that out– has nearly the same exact features as their mother and the same ‘air.’ One that demanded everyone to pay attention to them, and is a natural for posing and had a natural strut. 

They’ve been right, and Y/N doesn’t know if it is because of them that they all made it this far. They knew what looked best on Y/N and what wouldn’t work. They knew which designers would adore them and which designers wouldn’t fit. 

Those who know Y/N though understand that the ‘air’ was only on the runways and photoshoots. Y/N is actually a very demure person, while not a wallflower, they were someone who could blend in the crowd. 

Alfred once told them that every country should be grateful to not have Y/N working against them, because Y/N can just disappear. 

“Y/N, are you ready?” They smiled at their fellow models, slipping into the person of Y/N L/N, child of M/N L/N and Bruce Wayne, and nodding, “Of course. When am I not?” 

Cheryl whistled, a fellow model that has been Y/N’s mentor in some way, walking around Y/N and smiling, “Designers sure know how to dress you up. I think almost every runway walk has had your hips on display” Y/N chuckled at her, “It’s because of these hips dips. You can probably drink soup out of them.” 

“If it was ice cream I’d be down, but not soup.” Jon was another model who has been in the scene for a long time. He was a handsome man with a diamond face. 

“Models get ready.” A shuffling of feet and high heels clip clopping sounded in the backstage, and Y/N took their place in front of everyone. They will be the one opening the show today, an honor that the 18-year-old took gratefully. 

Opening a show was a big deal, setting the tone for the show in general and also the tempo. Y/N took a deep breath, and at the cue, their mind went blank as they began walking. Their eyes focused on the end camera, and the walk on beat to the music. Once at the end, they looked directly into the camera and struck a pose. Highlighting the slit hips and underboob design, showing off the almost sheer fabric that had the slightest hint of shimmer in them. A statement piece. 

Turning around they walked back to where they emerged from, making sure they kept their face in control for the last camera. However, a sight at the corner of their eye momentarily broke them out of their blank space. Five familiar people that should not be here. Sitting in the front row, wearing nice tuxedos, and almost making Y/N stumble. 

Almost. Controlling their features, Y/N returned their focus to the camera and disappeared in the entrance they emerged from. Smiling at all the 'congratulations’ ‘you looked great,’ ‘you look beautiful,’ they went back to their manager, Maya, and whispered, “I need you to confirm five people in the front row on the left side. They are four chairs down from the camera.”

Maya nodded, scurrying away and without a doubt checking it out. Y/N could feel the curiosity and dread build in their stomach. If they are who Y/N thinks they are, then the after party is going to be interesting. 

“What’s wrong?” Jon wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, bringing Y/N out their thoughts, “Nothing really. Just thought I saw some familiar faces.” Jon made a weird face, but dropped the issue when another model, Logan, strolled on over. 

“Did you see them?” 

“See who?” 

“The Wayne family! They are in the front row!” Y/N closed their eyes in misery and a headache began forming. They saw Maya running back, her face pale and a large frown on her face. Jon glanced at Y/N, taking in the annoyed expression and scrunched nose, “Hmm, no I didn’t. I was too focused on looking at the camera, Logan.” She rolled her eyes, “Oh, it was only a second.”

Jon and Y/N gave each other a dry look, remembering the last time Logan had said that and somehow the camera managed to snap a photo when she was oggling at someone. Y/N shook their head, “I momentarily saw them, but I didn’t think it was them. Do you think I can get the oldest son’s number?” 

‘You’re not his type.’  Y/N thought but didn’t say, shrugging and smiling in amusement, “Logan, what would your girlfriend say?” The model stuck her tongue, “She’d ask to join.” Before Logan could say anything else, Cheryl waltzed over, “Stop being inappropriate, there’s a kid present.” 

“Hey!” 

“Sorry, if you can’t drink yet you can’t have this conversation.” Y/N made a face, “That’s the stupidest sense of logic I have ever heard.” Everyone laughed at them, clapping Y/N’s shoulders and helping each other fix their wardrobes. Some stylists came over to fix their makeup and hair just in case. Everyone was getting ready for the last walkthrough, and honestly, Y/N was dreading it. 

As the front runner of it all, Y/N’s face will be seen by the now confirmed Wayne family and Y/N isn’t confident in themselves enough to not make a face. 

The show will be closing soon and then there is the afterparty that all models are expected to attend. It's a networking place, where other designers, brand ambassadors, and just people who are rich enough to get a ticket can talk to the models and try and recruit them. Its a place and time to mingle for those who have an open schedule and unfortunately, Y/N has an open fucking schedule. 

This was their last show in Paris, and then they have one destination and then it will be done. Runway season will be officially over and then it will be smaller gigs and back to the every now and then runway. 

“Models get ready!” Y/N took a deep breath and fixed their face, eyes forward and chin up. 

‘I’ll call Alfred when I get home.’ 

+++

‘I want to go home.’ Y/N nursed the drink in the flute, filled with sparkling cider instead of champagne. They stood off to the side, changed out of the clothes they wore on the runway, and instead in a deep-v top and leather pants. Still dressed to impress, but at the moment they just wanted to curl up and go away. Y/N’s hotel room has a bathtub in it and Y/N really wants to just sit down in hot water and relax. 

Y/N was constantly scanning the crowd, moving further against the wall whenever they saw black hair and blue eyes. 

Maya said one more hour, then it will be acceptable to leave. She was doing all  the talking and networking for Y/N, trusting that when it came to meet the designers Y/N will charm them enough to want to have them keep coming back. Sighing once more, Y/N took a longer sip and wished to be home. 

Something moved the hair near their ear, and Y/N almost threw their glass at whoever it was until they caught sight of blue eyes and black hair, staring at and analyzing them. 

“Tim…” 

“Hello, Y/N.” Y/N gave a practiced and polite smile, “Odd to see you here.” Tim shrugged, “Seeing that the designer is friends with Bruce, and told us of your show and that you will be leading the walk, of course we had to come.” Y/N nodded, “In Paris?” 

“Where else? You’re next one is in New York right?” Y/N gave a polite chuckle, “Since when did you pay attention to fashion week?” Tim took a sip of champagne, “Since my younger sibling decided to run off and become a model.” 

Y/N took a sip of the sparkling cider, not missing the way Tim was eyeing them with interest and curiosity. They smiled against the rim of the flute, “ ‘Run off’ huh. I don’t think those are the words I would use. I never hid it and I didn’t pack my bags in the middle of the night and sneak through a window.” Y/N set the empty flute down, still smiling politely at Tim who was still watching them, “I simply walked out the front door and no one stopped me.” 

“Y/N–” 

“Y/N! There you are!” A tall woman, hair dyed a shade-off from white gray and wearing the crispest red suit, strolled over. Y/N gave a larger smile, opening their arms and welcoming the hug, “Ms. Gabbana, you look lovely as always.” The woman laughed, “That’s the botox. Anyways, you looked so amazing opening the show!” 

Tim was quickly forgotten as Francesca Gabbana, an Italian high-end fashion designer and luxury brand owner, chatted away with Y/N. Her presence called forth other designers and models and soon enough, Y/N was entrapped in a small group talking about the next runway show next week. 

They talked about the dreaded flight to New York, and where they will be staying. It will be Francesca’s show next week, along with some other high end designers. Francesca seemed particularly excited for Y/N’s, and when Y/N first saw the design, they had to hold back the shivers.

“Right, Y/N you’re from Gotham aren’t you? Will you be visiting your family?” With the attention all on Y/N, they smiled tightly and shrugged, “We’ll see. They are always so busy so I think it's best if I don-” 

“I hope Y/N visits, it’s been a while since we last saw each other.” A large hand clapped Y/N’s shoulder, and from the facial expression everyone was making, Y/N knows who it was. Peeking up through their lashes, Y/N could see Bruce’s smile on his still handsome face. 

Cheryl was the first to recover, her eyes narrowing slightly, “How… how do you know each other?” Y/N glanced at Bruce, who right now is Brucie, and before he could say anything Bruce gasped, “Y/N, you haven’t said anything?” The young adult shrugged, “It never came up. Bruce Wayne is my father.”

The room erupted, and Y/N actually wanted to go die in a hole. What proceeded afterwards was the most intense questioning for the next two hours. 

++++

“Bruce, why are you here?” Y/N asked over dinner. He tossed the crouton around in his salad, waiting for his father’s response. They have never had a 1 on 1 meal together. It was alway family meals, and even then Y/N rarely showed up for those. There was no need too. They never noticed when Y/N was there or not. 

The Billionaire playboy shrugged, “Is it wrong to see my child open a highly sought after show?” Y/N chuckled, “No, but you have never shown any interest in this before.” Y/N never hid his modeling gigs. Often using the family weight room to keep in shape and also turned one of the unused offices into a strut practice room when Y/N lived in the manor. Hours and the amount of money spent to ensure their skin was perfect and their hair was nice, and that they looked beautiful. 

Y/N never hid their modeling job, even as a teen, and yet the only one who seemed to notice was Alfred. 

“You never said anything.” 

“I didn’t think I had too.” Y/N can recall trying to show Bruce, Dick, Jason, anyone that would bother to look, a photo of them making it onto Vogue. Not the cover, not yet, but as a newer model within the prestigious magazine. They made it at 16. 16, and only modeling for a year! Francessca had them in a piece that was first page worthy, and it fit Y/N like it was meant for them. 

Alfred was the only person to look at the magazine Y/N held open with their trembling hands, and ruffle their hair and congratulate them. 

“You didn’t even tell Alfred where you are living.” No, because Y/N doesn’t want Alfred showing up unexpectedly and seeing the almost empty fridge. The thought of the older man’s disappointed look and inquisitive questions would have Y/N breaking down crying. 

“Hmmm, I’m always moving around so I didn’t want him showing up when I am not there.” Bruce nodded, taking a bite of his lobster, and watching Y/N take a small bite of the salad. Y/N swallowed with great difficulty, “Bruce-” 

“Since when does a child call their parents by their first name?” Y/N sucked their teeth, “The only one who calls you ‘father’ is Damian.” 

“You used to.” Y/N shrugged, “You never seemed comfortable with me calling you that.” Bruce rarely answered when Y/N called him ‘dad’ or ‘father,’ and yet he alway responded when someone else called for him.  Y/N would watch from afar as Bruce came running to them in need, but when Y/N needed help they had to figure it out on their own. 

At some point Y/N stopped calling for Bruce entirely, running and calling only to Alfred.

Y/N is not mad about it. They never were. Dull E/C eyes accepted it and pushed forward, watching the explosive fights, the angry words, and the silent apologies. Alfred’s words affirming that they all loved each other, despite everything saying otherwise. Y/N watched, and continued to watch as they focused on themselves when Y/N began making a name for themself. 

They’re not mad. Y/N never was. Hurt? Maybe, but not mad. That is just their hand in life. Besides, it made the modeling career easier. No need to worry about missing any events, Y/N wouldn’t be invited even if they had lived there. Holidays weren’t huge, nor were birthdays. The only one Y/N sent a card to was Alfred. 

It made traveling easier. There was no such thing as homesickness. It made taking more gigs easier, more destructive behavior easier to handle. 

“Y/N,” Bruce called to him and Y/N paused while eating. Raising an eyebrow in question as Bruce set down his own eating utensils. Ocean blue met E/C, and Y/N tried to place the emotion in those blue eyes. 

“For what it is worth, I… I am sorry about the neglect you have faced within our home.” Y/N’s mind stopped functioning and they stared at Bruce in shock. The man either ignoring him or not realizing that Y/N was staring at him continued. 

“You… you didn’t deserve that, especially when you were grieving and that fact that I could not see that shows my fail–” 

“Wait wait wait!” Y/N held their hands up, cutting off Bruce, “What are you talking about?” Bruce stared at Y/N with questions in his eyes, and blinked in shock when he saw the genuine confusion in his child’s eyes. Y/N looked floored, “Bruce… I-I… what?”

Bruce knows he’s not a good parent. He is intimately aware of his failings and shortcomings, and how some of them haunt him. They claw into his skin, his mind, and chest as a reminder of all the times he has failed his children. He and Dick barely started talking, Jason and him are slowly mending that bridge, and Tim and Damian seem to hate each other and Bruce doesn’t know what to do about that. It seems the only children he hasn’t officially fucked over are those that aren’t even his. 

Then there’s Y/N. A child of his genetic makeup, just like Damian, only Y/N’s mother was a model Bruce had treated as a hookup whenever she was on the east coast. Y/N was 13 when they came into Bruce’s care, older than Damian and a few years younger than Tim. Their mother was caught in a drug-use scandal, one that cost her her career and then her life. Her choice left behind a traumatized child, walking in on the body as she decomposed in their bathroom. They had been forced to pack up their bags and move across the country to live with a parent that they only heard about once or twice. 

Bruce somewhat knew of Y/N. He knew that Y/N’s mother had been pregnant, but when he asked if she wanted child support, the woman huffed and said ‘no thank you.’ Her income was enough, as a high in demand supermodel, and she didn’t need Bruce’s ‘pity’ money. 

So, he never sought after her and she never phoned him. 

Until CPS called and told him of the news and the now homeless 13-year-old child he was now in charge of. 

Y/N and him never really connected, and Bruce wonders if some of that is his own fault. He was always too busy with Batman, then his drama with Dick, and Jason’s whole dying thing, the persona of Brucie Wayne, then there was Tim, then Jason coming back from the dead thing, then Barbara’s whole Joker incident, then Damian…. 

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t too busy, he just never made time for Y/N. Which, the other never seemed to complain about. If they did complain to Alfred, the butler never said anything, and neither did their brothers. Y/N was just a ghost living in the manor that showed up for meals because it was expected, and then… left. 

Now he sits here, across from his child who doesn’t seem to understand the wrong done to them by not only Bruce, but the rest of the family. 

“Where did this come from?” Bruce doesn’t have the heart to tell them that it was because of Alfred that Bruce and the family finally realized what was wrong. The tour of Y/N’s old room, still kept clean due to Alfred’s insistence, but instead of clothes on the ground and signs of life within the room, it had photos of Y/N's past modeling gigs. Hundreds of photos, some framed, some not, as they covered the walls. Magazines that had Y/N on the front cover, magazine pages that had Y/N taking up the entire page.

The tour of the room-turned-practice room. Full of mirrors, and a 4 inch wide ply board used to practice walking. The shoes that were hidden in the closet, some too big and some too small. Blood staining the heel area of most of them as the image of Y/N practicing until and through the blisters filled all their heads. 

The meal regime, still written hastily down on the post it notes, and the exercise routine that didn’t match the calorie intake. The broken mirrors in Y/N’s closets and the clothes that now looked like they would be too big on the present-day Y/N that is sitting in front of Bruce.

The written blogs, printed and folded in one of their drawers, relating them back to their mother. Accusing them of the same thing they accused M/N. Highlighting Y/N’s faults, Y/N’s mistakes, Y/N’s features, and Y/N’s heritage. 

‘Child of drug-abuser model M/N L/N, Y/N L/N using the same drug?’ A 15-year-old Y/N posed in a way to show their figure was the picture that was used. 

‘Child of famous model M/N L/N able to hold up to the heat?’ Another photo of a 16-year-old Y/N looking exhausted as they walked out of a building. Eyes red and bags under their eyes. 

‘Beauty genes skipped a generation.’ Y/N is 17 in that photo. 

‘Y/N M/N will never be as beautiful as M/N L/N without extensive work.’  Y/N is 15 again in this photo. They had kept every critique, every mean and poorly written article about them, and kept them. Some of them were tweets, printed instagram photos, and magazines. 

Bruce could see the drastic changes in Y/N throughout the photos. The strict lifestyle changes affected their appearance and made them look even more like M/N. The Y/N in front of him, still beautiful, but Bruce knows the thoughts behind the perfect skin and perfect hair. 

It would seem that one of the things Y/N inherited from Bruce would be the internalizing of every little bad thing to happen, and deny that it has affected them while they wore the scar of it on their sleeves. 

“Bruce, you didn’t neglect me. I had food, clothes, a manor… where did you get all of that from?” 

“Emotional neglect is still neglect.” Y/N still looked confused, setting their fork down and controlling their expression as they processed that. Okay, so yeah maybe Bruce wasn’t an attentive father, but the man never hit Y/N. He never said anything about Y/N that Y/N would have to go to therapy for. Besides, Bruce’s lack of attention paved the way for Y/N to do this! 

Y/N’s lips formed a serene smile, “Bruce, I’m not mad that you didn’t pay attention to me. You were busy with your company, you are legally a dad of five kids, not everyone is going to get the same attention.” They took a sip of the water, hoping the conversation would end there. 

“It wasn’t that I was busy, I just never made time Y/N… and for that I am sorry.” Y/N hates this. Absolutely hates this. All of their excuses for Bruce are being shot down by Bruce himself and it was leaving Y/N feeling a little raw. Wounds they didn’t even know about now being rubbed with salt. 

Y/N stuck their tongue in their cheek and looked around, before smiling once more, “Bruce, I am literally giving you a way out for your guilt, which I still don’t understand why you’re feeling guilty, so why aren’t you taking it? 

“What are you hoping to do?” Bruce stared into E/C eyes and he could see the irritation in them. He set his fork and knife down, and leaned forward, “Is it wrong to try and mend broken bridges?” 

“The bridge was never broken in the first place.” 

“You’re right, and that’s because there was never a bridge in the first place.” Y/N cocked their head to the side, watching with an intense expression. Those E/C eyes flickering around, taking in the restaurant and narrowing their eyes, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, but did you rent out the entire restaurant?” 

“I did. So we can talk freely.” 

“The other ‘customers’ are Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian.” Bruce nodded, “Family dinner.” Y/N’s smile held no amusement, “You know, if you were anybody else I would be thinking this is a way for you to slide back in my life in hopes you could get some of my paycheck. But what is a model’s paycheck to Bruce Wayne’s?” Bruce chuckled, “You are making quite a bit. I’m happy you're conscious of your position now.” 

Y/N sipped the water, “How do you know how much I’m making?” Bruce only smiled and continued eating. He watched his child contemplate asking the question again, but then decided to drop it. 

‘Smart.’ Y/N continued to watch him, no longer touching the food and seeming unwilling to even look at the dessert menu. 

“You’ll visit when you’re back in the states, right?” It didn’t feel like a question. In fact, it felt more like a demand poised as a question to keep intentions hidden. Y/N gulped, “I’ll try.” 

“You should, Alfred misses you. Besides, Manhattan, New York isn’t too far from Gotham.” It was such an innocent sentence. One spoken with a smile on his lips and kind sky blue eyes. An innocent sentence, except Y/N has never once told them where they live. 

“A beautiful place, I can see why you wouldn’t want to leave. With windows like those and that giant skylight, it is truly a wonderful place befitting a top model such as yourself.” Y/N’s mouth went dry, and they could feel the sweat on the back of their neck as they continued to stare at Bruce. Their instincts implore them to go along with this. 

Urging them to carry on the conversation as they felt the gazes of four others on their back. They gave a wobbly smile, “Ye-yes. I really love it, I am super lucky that I managed to have enough saved up, and that I make enough to own a beautiful home such as that.” Bruce nodded, “As an apology for all the missed birthdays and Christmases, I decided to help out a bit.”

“...Excuse me?” Bruce ignored them, and instead looked at their plate that was still untouched from when Y/N had put down the utensils. He took a bite, “Do you not like your food? I can get something else made for you.” 

“N-no, I’m-I’m just full.” Bruce’s eyes narrowed before making a show of shrugging it off, “If you insist. Do know Alfred will want to feed you when you visit.” Y/N’s smile was becoming hard to maintain, “It was a pleasure to have dinner with you, Bruce, but I have to go. Long flight tomorrow and I need to be ready for next week.” Y/N fished out their credit card, but Bruce stuck his hand out, “Don’t worry about it, dinner has been paid for.” 

Y/N didn’t fight, only nodding and smiling pleasantly, “I suppose I will see you next week?” Bruce stood up, and brought Y/N into a tense hug. Feeling the bone and sinewy muscles in his rough hands. Y/N’s top is open back, exposing the shoulder blades and some of Y/N’s spine. Each one a small knob against skin, looking like the Rocky Mountains. 

“Safe flight, Y/N. See you at the shows next week.” Y/N gave a tight smile and quickly left. The four other pairs of eyes never left their back, and when finally in the safety of the streets, Y/N pulled out their phone and checked their Mortgage app. 

‘Successfully Paid!’ In bright green letters, bolded as if it were a game. 

It’s been paid off. Y/N now owed nothing on that house, and while that might have been freeing, it meant someone could now have access to their mortgage account. An alert sounded on their phone, and when Y/N saw that it was their bank account, notifying them of a deposit Y/N felt the breath leave their lungs. 

A large sum, one that had Y/N blinking at the amount of 0’s, was just deposited to their checking account. Right under their bill for walking on that runway. 

‘Shopping money, for when you visit.’ - Dick 

They have access to their bank account. Y/N’s family, because while Bruce was a solitary kind of guy he never was one to withhold information from his former Robins, now had access to their account. They could see what they were spending money on. 

They know where Y/N lives. From the sounds of it, Bruce was even in the penthouse. Y/N covered their mouth and tried to stifle a sob, the feeling of an invasion of their privacy weighing heavy in their chest. 

++++

Y/N stared at the article of clothing with anxiety. When Francesca had first shown them the clothing, it had only caused slight discomfort. Now, now that Y/N knows that their family is here, and watching, the clothing had felt like it was a metal ball. Francesca stood next to them, admiring Y/N’s hair and makeup, and how it all looked with clothing item. 

“I knew this would look great on you. As a Gothamite, this must feel great right? To be wearing the symbol of your City’s greatest vigilante.” Y/N swallowed down the bile, “He’s typically seen as the boogeyman, but yes. I suppose it does feel odd wearing the symbol.” 

The piece of clothing was quite scandalous, a bat symbol made out of gold rest across their chest, attached to a black silk fabric and lace. It hugged their body, bringing out the hip dips and long legs, as well as exposing their toned stomach. 

“Why didn’t you say anything about you being Bruce Wayne’s kid?” Francesca asked, and Y/N could only shrug, “Just… it just never came up.” Y/N loves that Francesca drops that. There are tons of models who have family issues. Y/N’s are minor. 

Not worthy of anything. 

“Y/N, for what it is worth, I do think you are a one in a century model. No one has taken to the runway quite like you have. I think if you had started the runway earlier you would already be a supermodel.” Y/N smiled at Francesca’s kind words, and they wondered just how they got so lucky to have befriended her. 

“Thank you.” 

“Models get ready!” Y/N took to the back of the line, being offered to close the show just after they had opened one. Another prestigious offer that Y/N gratefully took. Sighing heavily, they watched as the line grew shorter and the sound of cameras flashing and grew louder. 

Taking a deep breath, they steeled their breathing and controlled their expressions. Blocking out the world in the way they do best, strutting. The intensity of the flashes increased, and Y/N made a show of keeping their face neutral. 

Just how Batman does. 

They made a point to not look at the people in the front row. When they made it back behind the entry way, there was no time to catch their breath. They were ushered back into line for the final walk out, and Y/N wonders if they can all see how pale Y/N is. Can they see the sweat on their brow or the fact that their E/C eyes are terrified? 

“You did great Y/N!” 

“Looking beautiful Y/N.” 

“C’mon Y/N, after this its a party!” 

No, no they can’t see it because they are all focused on what Y/N wants them to be focused on. Y/N has spent countless hours into ensuring they loook beautiful without makeup, and ethereal in it, no one will care about their inner thoughts and turmoils. 

Y/N strutted to the music one last time, focusing on the flashing light and hoping that the photos they captured showed exactly what Y/N wants them to see. Once they were in the back, the models stripping and changing into comfortable clothes and all of them getting ready for the afterparty, Y/N stayed seated. The pads of their fingers running against the cold metal that was in the shape of a bat across their chest as their makeup artist and hairstylist undid all of their work. 

Francesca smiled, “You were great Y/N, I knew you would be the right person to pull this off.” 

“Thank you, what inspired this piece if you don’t mind me asking.” Francesca smiled, “Oh, I got a call actually. It was just a call to run the idea by me, but I loved it so much that I accepted it.” Y/N furrowed their brow, “A call?” They began to strip out of the clothing, but Francesca’s startled look made them pause. 

“...What?” 

“You’re not going to keep it on?” Y/N gave a confused look, “We don’t keep clothes, Francesca.” The stylist smiled, “Well, no. But Y/N, that was a commission for you.” Y/N stared at Francesca with a new found fear, and their mouth going dry as they processed it all. 

“Who… who did you say the call was from?” Francesca beamed, “Your father, who by the way I am offended you didn’t say anything about, Bruce Wayne.” Large hands clapped their shoulder, and Y/N would have shouted if it weren’t for the familiar smell of cologne. 

Turning around, they met Bruce’s blue eyes, and the blue eyes of their siblings. All of them dressed to the nines and eyeing the clothes. 

“Truly a wonderful piece, Ms. Gabbana. I could not thank you enough.” 

“Of course! Thank you for the idea!” Y/N felt their breath quicked when Dick’s hands gripped their wrist, and gently tugged them in his direction, “C’mon Y/N, you’ll be late to dinner. Alfred is making your favorite.” 

“At least let them change, Dick.” 

“Todd is right, a drive in that would be difficult. Not to mention that  it is snowing outside.” 

“Y/N, we have some clothes for you. They should be more comfortable then the clothes you came in.” Y/N couldn’t even say anything as they were dragged away, Bruce keeping Francesca busy while their brothers pushed them into a changing room. Dick smiling gently as he passed the bag of Y/N’s clothes, taken from their penthouse, into Y/N’s trembling arms. 

“Bruce paid for that outfit, so try not to ruin it, okay? We’ll be waiting out here for you.” Dick booped their nose, and left Y/N alone in the changing room taht only had a curtain for a door. With trembling hands, they searched the bag for their phone. They have to call someone. Cheryl will help them. So would Jon. Maybe even Maya! Y/N just needs to call– 

“Y/N, we have your phone out here, so don’t panic.” Y/N bit their lip to stop themself from sobbing. One thing. They just want one thing to go right today. 

A knock sounded on the wood that was hoolding the curtain, “Y/N, do you need help?” 

“N-no! No, I’m just try-trying to be gentle with the piece.” Bruce hummed, “Well, try and hurry. Alfred is excited to see you and is expecting us for dinner in three hours.” Y/N gulped, carefully stripping and putting on the sweats and hoodie. Clothes that still smell like their laundry detergent and shoes Y/N knows were in their closet. 

‘Dear God.’ They whimpered as they slipped on the comfortable pair of shoes, and bagged the shoes from teh show, and carefully picked up the article of clothing. The gold bat symbol shining mockingly at them. 

The curtain pulled open, and like a horror photo, the light from behind them casted and eerie shadow. Bruce’s face hidden in teh darkness as he reached his hand out for Y/N, knowing full well his child cannot run. 

“C’mon Y/N, time to go home.”

______________________________________________________________

A Part 2 will definitely happen! Kinda has to, to be honest.

Scared to ask this one lmfaoo!... Let's have the reaction of all of Diasomnia dorm! <3 Uuhhhh but can I get a Biological Teen Mother of Sliver!Mc... like she had him at a young age? Currently she could be in her late 20s going into her early thirties! And maybe they could be from a different or even from Twisted wonderland ( that's up to you! ^w^) but Biological father of Sliver, very bad man, evil king- And Mama Sliver/Mama Mc is very protective and got in contact with Malificent for help! I was thinking of a kind of Sleeping Beauty Syndrome for Mc! Which is an extremely rare condition that causes intermittent episodes where you sleep for long periods of time, which prevents you from staying awake during the day (hypersomnia). This would explain why Sliver is always sleepy, and also what Lilia could not find a cure for it! Mama loves her baby Sliver, but understands if he wants nothing to do with her at all even if she does want to be in his life again...

Female reader, obviously. Low-key made this a Lilia x reader fic lol.

It all started with an arranged marriage when you were 18. Your rich family from the Queendom of Roses were somehow in-touch with a noble family in Briar Valley, and they set up a marriage between you and their son. Upon meeting for the first time, the two of you did not get along. To put it simply, he was rather rude to you despite you both being human. Your family was forcing you into it because, and I quote, “How would you find a husband if you keep sleeping the day away?” You had sleeping spells that left you unable to do much, and your family shamed you for it.

At the wedding, you saw your now-husband slip away quietly, and when you followed him, you saw him with another woman… or three. It didn’t bother you all that much. It’s not like you loved him at all. What did bother you was that you were going to have to sleep with that STD-ridden flea bag in order to produce a child, and then you could escape this loveless marriage. However, that requires being in bed with him.

The first time you had lain with your husband, you felt absolutely disgusted. You were angry; at him, at your family for forcing you to be with him, and at the world for predestining you for this. But, you had gotten what you wanted out of it. You were pregnant, which meant you never had to sleep with that deadbeat husband of yours ever again.

Upon learning that you were with child, you contacted Queen Maleficia for help. You explained to her about your situation, and she was more than happy to help. She already had someone that the baby could go to, actually. You were basically a surrogate now. Her Royal Majesty understood that it would be no good environment for the baby if you were to stay with your husband, so she made arrangements for you to stay within the castle up until your labor and the recovery process.

Lilia was the one to hold your hand while you gave birth, actually. The Queen was making the preparations outside of the room. A nursery had been set up for the baby, and maids and servants were rushing in and out of the delivery room.

When the baby was finally born, you held him for a few moments. It was as though the world had gone quiet, because he was not crying. You weren’t crying either. Baby Silver was sleeping in your arms, and you realized that your child had inherited your condition. You trusted, however, that Lilia would not shame him for the condition as he had not shamed you. You could see the good future that Silver would have, but it would be without you.

One last kiss was placed on Baby Silver’s brow before you, with tears in your eyes and a heavy heart, handed him over to Lilia. 

“I’m sorry, my baby. It’s better off this way. Just know, I will reunite with you soon.”

That started the recovery process, where Silver would remain asleep until your departure. When you left, you left to gain the help of the Queen of the Queendom of Roses. After all, you needed the help of both queens if you were going to get out of this marriage and gain the rights of your child.

~~~~~~~~

When he was just a young boy, Silver couldn’t help but wonder where he came from. He knew that Lilia was not his biological father. After all, if he were, he would at least be half-fae, and their ears would be similar. No, he was fully human. The knight-in-training was very observant. Plus, there was his condition to consider. The man who he came to call his ‘father’ did not have it, and from what he had read it was a genetic condition.

The only thing he has from his mother or father is a letter containing just three words. It isn’t signed, but he knows it’s from one of his biological parents:

“My dearest Silver.”

He had many questions about his parents: Were they kind? Did they know how to cook? Where were they? What did they do? Why did they give him up? 

That last question wasn’t one out of sadness or spite. He genuinely wanted to know. He is sure they had a good reason. From what Lilia had told him, which was very little and very vague, you gave him up because you wanted him to have a better life. A better life compared to what alternative?

“When you’re older, Silver, I will tell you everything. Just know that your mother loves you very much,” Is what Lilia often told him. This answer frustrated him, and he wanted to know more. But, the former General would just brush his questions away.

~~~~~~~~

“Is everyone ready?” Here we are, a few years later. Silver was a second year at NRC, and the Briar Valley crew was going to head back home for Winter Break. He made sure that he had everything he needed, and he made sure to say farewell to Yuu and Grim before going through the mirror. It was unfortunate that they couldn’t go home to visit, but maybe they could enjoy their stay at NRC?

Anyways, everything was just as Silver had left it. His room looked exactly the same. The days were exactly the same. The training post was exactly the same.

…So why did something feel different?

The air was more sombre than he remembered. Typically, there were festivals held in Briar Valley, or there was something happening in the palace. However, the maids and servants were whispering amongst themselves as he made his way to the prince’s chambers. Gossip did tend to spread, so he wondered what the latest piece of gossip was.

“Silver, follow me. Your presence is required in the throne room.” Malleus met him in the hallway, surprising the knight. His tone was serious, and he nodded before trailing after the dragon fae.

~~~~~~~~

“I apologize for taking so long, Your Majesty, General Lilia. A marriage of this sort hasn’t really happened within the Queendom of Roses.”

“It’s quite alright, Y/N. I am just happy that you are out of that dreadful marriage. I apologize that you had to go through something like that anyway!” Queen Maleficia exclaimed.

“I’m sure you would have been here if you could, Y/N,” Lilia smiled as he said it to you.

A knock on the large door to the throne room echoed, making you jump a bit. It had been 17 years since you have been in the Briar Valley Palace, and for that you regretted every second of it. You have kept yourself away from your son just so you could get a divorce, but you missed all of his firsts: his first word, his first step, his first real food, his first day of school, etc.

The door opened, and a guard was followed by Prince Malleus and Silver. You could recognize that hair and those eyes from anywhere. They were your baby’s. You let out a gasp, and your eyes immediately started to tear up.

“Your Royal Highness, Malleus Draconia, accompanied by Sir Silver,” The guard announced, as though you needed an introduction. You quickly stood up and walked over to the pair, hands shaking as you reached out to touch your son’s face.

“Silver,” Queen Maleficia started to say, “Malleus, this is Silver’s mother.”

Tears made their way from both yours and Silver’s eyes. Your hands met the sides of his face, and his hands immediately went to cover yours. This is what the both of you have been wanting for years now.

“My dearest Silver…” Upon hearing those words, Silver broke down in a full sob as he wrapped his arms around your frame. You returned the favor, holding your son close to you. It has been too long, truly.

“My dearest mother.” Were the first words he uttered to you, and you couldn’t be happier in your entire lifetime.

If time could stop, it would have stopped right there. However, he pulled away after a few moments before turning to Lilia, who had walked up to the two of you. He was in his army-day getup, dressed as a former General would be.

“This isn’t some cruel prank, is it, father?” He asked, wondering if he was going through another one of his sleeping spells. 

“I assure you that it is not, my dear boy.” Lilia pulled the knight into an equally affectionate hug. The three of you were crying, and you turned to give the bat fae a hug as well in gratitude.

~~~~~~~~

You and Silver decided that, in order to bond a little, it would be best if the two of you went on a walk with one another. So, you were taking your time in going through the palace gardens.

The 17-year-old knight had so many questions to ask you, and you were very happy to answer any that he had. The first was about his condition.

“Mother, do you have the sleeping condition that I have? Are you where I get it from?”

“Yes, you inherited it from me. Your grandparents from my side in the Queendom of Roses did not like that I had it.”

“What were my grandparents like?”

“Well, from my side, they forced me into a marriage with your father. However, from your father’s side, they were very kind to me. They actually helped with the divorce process.”

“Why did you and my father get a divorce?”

“That is a story for another time. Just know that it was why I kept myself from seeing you because I knew that it was not a good environment for you to grow up in.”

“Is he why you gave me away?” You stopped in your tracks to look at your son, and his eyes held both anger and sadness. You reached your hands up once again to cup his face, your face straight but emotional.

“I did not give you away. I never wanted you to think that, Silver. I wanted to give you your best chance, and that was not with me by your father’s side. Because he hailed from Briar Valley and I hailed from the Queendom, the process got complicated and I had no choice. If I left anybody intentionally, it was him and not you.

“Lilia raised you to be a good man and a good knight to the prince, and he did not judge you for our sleeping spells. You made it to Night Raven College with him guiding you. Your father would have tried to prevent you from reaching success just as he did with me. I was in college myself, studying to become a doctor and maybe find a cure for my… our condition.”

Silver was in deep thought, and you couldn’t read his face. Then he nodded before continuing to walk. 

“What was my father like?”

“I don’t really know how to describe him. He valued his work and he did not value family as much as he should have. He was the son of one of the very few human noble families within the Briar Valley. I’m trying to think of a way that doesn’t impact you negatively, if I’m being honest.”

“I would rather have your honest opinion. I am nearly an adult, and I am a knight now. I should be able to handle it.”

“Well, on our wedding day, I saw him in bed with a few other women, so that was not a very good impression at all. I hadn’t met him before that day, actually. Now, he is where you get your silver hair and auroral eyes. However, from the letters Lilia has sent me throughout the years, you seem to have gotten my personality as well as the Sleeping Beauty Syndrome.”

Silver nodded, looking forward before starting to speak again.

“I waited for as long as I could remember for some other form of communication. I don’t even have any last name. Not yours, not my father’s, not even Lilia’s. Why didn’t you ever send me another letter? Why didn’t you address the one I had received?”

“I didn’t want you looking for me. You don’t have your father’s name because I didn’t want you looking for him either. I do not know why Lilia didn’t give you his last name. You might have to ask him.”

“All my life I have asked the old man many questions about my parents, but he didn’t give me any information aside from that you were beautiful, that you loved me very much, and that you let me go to give me the best chance I could have.”

“I don’t know about the first one, but the other two were correct,” you giggled. Lilia had always been a bit of a flirt towards you, especially during your pregnancy. Even through the letters he had sent, there was always a bit of a flirtatious attitude. “I do love you very much, Silver.”

“I love you too, mother. And for the record, you are very beautiful. All of what Lilia has told me would be correct.” You turned to look at him and he also had a smile on his face.

~~~~~~~~

“Wait… so, what you’re informing me, Waka-sama, is that after 17 years, Silver’s mother finally appeared. How do we know she is his true mother?” 

Sebek could not believe this. He has known Silver his entire life, and only now does any of his parents reach out. He sat with Lilia and Malleus in front of him in one of the many rooms of the palace. He placed himself on the chair at a table within the room, holding his head in his hands as he tried to retrace everything that the two had told him.

“Because, silly, I have met her before. One would say that I’ve even loved her before,” Lilia was still in his mature form when he said this. The former general was there from the beginning. He was at your wedding because the family had history in the military of Briar Valley. That was when he found himself entranced by you.

The reputation of the man you were wed to was less than desirable, and his family was mostly just desperate to get him married to somebody. They opted for someone who didn’t know about the guy, so they decided to choose a family of high standing from another realm.

He remembers the day you came to the palace, a slight bump visible under your gown. You had a cloak on to conceal your identity, and he was the one who answered the palace gate. Tears were running down your face, and Lilia immediately took you inside to get you warmed up.

Malleus remembers that day as well. He was also at your wedding, and while he didn’t talk with you much because you were very quiet, he could tell that you were very nice. He was still awake at the time you had entered the castle, and he listened along with his grandmother about your issues. He also saw the almost murderous amount of anger in Lilia’s eyes.

Anyway, back to the present, Sebek was having a hard time grasping everything that was happening. Then, he stood up.

“Would it be appropriate if I were to go see her?” He asked.

“I have no doubt that it would be very appropriate. I expect her to drop by your domicile later because she is well acquainted with your father. As humans hailing from Briar Valley, they connected, and I believe your father was her dentist when she resided here,” Malleus explained.

Suddenly, the crocodile was overcome with even more shock; His father knew you?? How come he had never informed him or Silver of anything about you?

“Your mother knew her too. The two were actually quite good friends, if I remember correctly…” Lilia trailed off in thought, trying to remember if what he said was actually true.

Then, Sebek passed out from the overwhelming feeling of this bombshell that was dropped on him.

~~~~~~~~

When you had returned from your walk with your son, you were met with Lilia extending his arm to you. You looked towards Silver and he nodded his head at his father figure before walking off. So, you accepted the fae’s arm and began walking with him.

“How was your conversation?”

“It went exceedingly well, Lord Vanrouge. He had so many questions, and I answered each one he had.”

“That is good to hear, darling. I’ve missed you very much, as you’ve probably guessed by now,” Lilia stopped in his tracks as he slipped his arm from yours to bring your hand to his lips and place a kiss upon your knuckles.

You couldn’t help but feel a tad flustered, but a smile graced your lips as you leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ve missed you too, Lilia.” Said fae smiled in return as he once again extended his arm for you to take, and you began walking again.

“By the way, Lady Y/N, young Sebek would like to see you. He’s Dr. Zigvolt’s youngest son, 16 years old. A meeting has been arranged at their abode.”

“That sounds lovely! It’s been a while since I’ve visited the Zigvolt’s. From what I remember, I have only met their older son and daughter.”

~~~~~~~~

It was in the evening when the gathering was, and you, Lilia, and Silver knocked on the door to the Zigvolt’s house. The door was answered by the matriarch of the house.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” She gave you a very tight hug, letting a few tears run down her face at knowing that you were alright.

Everyone went inside, and the table was set for supper. The older Zigvolt children walked up and gave you hugs as well. You remember seeing them when they were barely old enough to speak, but the memory of a half-fae is not to be underestimated under any circumstances.

“LADY Y/N! IT IS VERY NICE TO MEET YOU AT LAST!” You turned towards the shouting voice to see a young man bowed at a perfect 90° angle. “MY NAME IS SEBEK ZIG-”

“SHUT UP! SHE PROBABLY KNOWS WHO YOU ARE!” His older sister shouted at him, bonking him on the head to try to get him to quiet down.

“Thank you for introducing yourself, Sebek,” you were trying your hardest not to laugh at the family dynamic. “It is very nice to meet you! Silver has told me many wonderful things about you, and your dedication is the first thing I see within you.”

The guy was very close to tears at your words, his heart feeling warm.

“Y/N, is that you?” You turned to see the patriarch of the household, and you greeted him with a warm hug of his own.

~~~~~~~~

Walking back to the palace, Lilia lingered behind you and your son so that you two could continue talking with one another. After all, you had only one question for him.

“Silver, I know I have not been present in your life, and I hope you can come to understand the reasoning behind it. However, I am finished with my education and I will be working alongside Dr. Zigvolt as a doctor in Briar Valley. I wanted to ask you something, if you wouldn’t mind.” Your nerves were at an all-time high, not sure how you should phrase your question.

“What is it, mother?”

“Would you still want me in your life? I know you’re almost an adult, and I missed every single milestone of your life. I will understand if you don’t want me to-”

“Yes, please.”

“...What?”

“I said yes, please. I would love to have you in my life. But, how will Lilia take it?”

“He knows, honey. That’s why he’s behind us. I believe there is a way where it could work out…” and suddenly, you were being hoisted up into the fae’s arms in a bridal carry. You let out a squeal as Silver smiled at the shenanigans of his parental figures.

Yeah, he knew that Lilia had been smitten with you for a while now. Throughout his childhood, he has had the pleasure of hearing a story be told and retold, and he understands that it was a metaphor for Lilia’s love for you.

“There once was a princess, as beautiful and as kind as could be. Her voice would draw in fauna of all kinds. However, she was afflicted with a curse. She couldn’t stay awake.

“Her family was horrible to her, calling her names because of her curse. All she ever wanted to do was help people like her, but the family wanted to continue their bloodline. So, they married her off to a noble from a distant land.

“The wedding was a party to remember, but in the audience was a soldier, smitten with the princess. From that point on, he swore to himself that he would protect her until the world ends. Even then, his dying breaths would be used to serve her instead of himself.

“She eventually fell pregnant with a child, and she went to the castle to seek the aid of the Queen of this distant land. There, her unborn child received a blessing, and the soldier took care of her for the nine months following. He was at her beck and call; whatever she wanted, he took it upon himself to acquire it for her.

“It was in her 6th month where the two shared their first kiss. She had been working hard to try and separate herself from her husband, as she never loved him. Instead, she found herself in love with the soldier. His kindness and the stories he had to share of camaraderie and bravery on the battlefield entranced her. She found herself being lulled to sleep each night by his voice.

“However, sleep kept them apart. Her condition extended itself because of the child taking a toll on her energy. There were days where she would sleep for days on-end. However, the soldier would not leave her side. Instead, he would keep bringing her cups of tea in case she were to wake up. Each evening, he would place a kiss upon her forehead and speak to her as though she were awake.

“The night she gave birth to her child, she was accompanied by the soldier. He held her hand, and when the baby was born, the midwife cleaned the infant and handed him to the soldier. At that moment, the soldier swore to protect both the princess and the baby with his life.”

I Became My Son's First Love - By Bubllea (7/10)

**Not Incest**

A beautiful woman marries an older man for money, only to be smacked with divorce papers a mere three years later. She's from a poor family. It seems like she has to live life as a divorcee in an unkind era, but then his son proposes to her. A man who seemed to hate her. Terrified, she tries to avoid his advances. It doesn't work.

Eve is slim and pretty. She has a sister who raised her to be a good woman. She was able to enter the marriage market thanks to her sister. Her sister gets pregnant, and suddenly it's up to her to marry into a good family.

Count Hound is a handsome middle aged man with lots of bastards, lots of lovers, and lots of arrogance. Eve tries to hunt down a safe bachelor. She's totally willing to marry an old guy. That's the plot twist here. Eve is totally willing to marry for cash....in order to stay a noble lady. Her family has nothing and she'll become a peasant at this rate. Beggars can't be choosers. Count Hound is a scary option though, because she's afraid he will either abuse her or grow bored of her. He's not a weak old man. He's a strong old man. He's not an ideal target. His biggest plus point is he doesn't want more kids.

She marries him by promising to live as a doll. You see, Eve isn't his type. He likes curvy women with big bazongas. He doesn't even kiss her after a month of marriage. He gives her an allowance of 2000 gold a month, which she uses to give her sister a dowry.

Eve is a great choice of bride for an aging cad with an awful reputation. She's slim and mature looking and smart. Her sisters lessons made her well versed in the arts. She's the perfect accessory for royal parties, and she doesn't have a jealous bone in her body. She's just happy to have gold in her pocket and a marriage lined up for her sister.

Azazel is the real love interest, and he doesn't approve of his new "mother". Why? Well, he doesn't trust his father. He's sure Eve will be humiliated by his father's lovers and his father's constant arrogance. He's worried for her sake. He pounces on his father for marrying such a young woman, with no power or money of her own, just so he can indulge in weekly orgies.

Eve naturally starts to think he hates her, because Azazel isn't super clear about this. He cannot go against his father. Technically he is of higher rank, because his mother is part of the royal family, but he's still young. Young and unmarried with no formal title. He's very sick of his dad's bullshit.

After a month the count takes interest in Eve. They confirm, again, that they do not want children. Eve watches him with his lovers, because it pleases him. They only kiss. Count Hound is an actual pervert with no redeeming qualities.

Eve has a "wet dream"

This is a story with zero morals so I'm pretty Azazel starts spying on her when she sleeps/touching her.

The maids are on her side and she receives a decent amount of support in her marriage. Three years fly by and she becomes a respected art collector and sponsor. Everyone is jealous of the Count because he found the perfect young wife.

He divorces her.

He doesn't even give her a clear explanation.

The novel reveals that the Count divorced her because he was falling in love with her. He had no desire to be burdened by childish love.

Azazel steps in pretty quick. He has been hiding his feelings. Eve is stunned, afraid, and jaded when he proposes to her. The novel indicates Azazel is extremely persistent. Maybe not quite a yandere but I'd say he counts because his moral compass is super broken and he is utterly shameless. He knows that marrying his stepmother will follow his reputation forever, but he truly does not give a hoot. He also doesn't care when she rejects him. Red flag.