#but he's not allowed anywhere near my daughter right now

[igotanidea]

Different lives: dad!Jason Todd x wife!reader

Request: Family au, I believe that Jason Todd is a family man and he would totally have 2 older boys like 15-13 a five year old daughter who has him like wrapped around his finger and the wife and Jason get like a call from the school saying there was a fight and Jason is all like hey no no we don't do that but then asks who won

***

It seemed like they were dancing at Dick and Babs’ wedding only five minutes ago.

Holding onto each other for dear life, like they knew that that person in their arms were the one. Like this little celebration, that was not really little, and not even theirs, made them think about future much more seriously.

And for the first time ever, Jason actually believed that maybe there was something more for him in this life. Something more than rejection, pain, fear and constant loneliness.

Of course, given the fact that he and Y/N had been together for a while, he knew that before. But at that moment, in the middle of the giant dancefloor, surrounded by other couples and guest and yet – having eyes only for her – he knew.

Two different things.

***

When he came back home from his work (he had regular work now! That scrawny kid and rebellious young adult turned into a responsible head of the family, though the moment of change somehow skipped them both) Y/N was on the phone with a concerned face expression.

“Yes. Yes, I understand. I’ll be there right away. Yes. Yes, absolutely.” She turned to Jay and send him a smile, tired if not exhausted, but a smile regardless.

He let her talk, instead focusing on his little princess daughter playing on the blanket next to her mother’s feet. That little being totally had him wrapped around her finger and all it took was a sight of her pretty eyes that looked so much like her mother’s and he was dropping everything and rushing to the girl’s side.

“What happened?” He asked taking Leah on his knees and settling on the couch next to Y/N, wrapping an arm around her shoulders trying to relieve the obvious tension. He had his girls therefore he had everything and there was not a single thing he wouldn’t do for them.

“It’s Liam and Dylan.” Y/N sighed pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Oh, right” Jason smirked at the thought of his two older sons. 15 and 13 now, looking and acting just like him at this age. Causing troubles wherever they showed, not taking anyone’s bullshit, but with a deeply hidden heart of gold. He was so proud of them, even if saying that out loud was a rare occurrence. “What did they do this time?” he chuckled, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Jason!”

“What?”

“This is not funny!”

“Of course it is! They are boys, they are allowed to-“

“I’m warning you, do not finish this sentence!” she placed both hands on Leah’s ears “I don’t want my baby girl anywhere near trouble.”

“You know she’s got our blood in her veins, so that gives her a lot of genetic burden in the troublemaker area?”

“Jason!”

“What?” he shrugged casually “It’s true and you know it.”

“Mhm. Yeah, we’ll see how you act when he grew up on causing troubles with boys-“

“WHAT?!” Jason jumped off the couch, holding Leah’s little body close to his chest, his grip on a girl tightening significantly. “Over my dead body! That’s my little girl! No one is taking her away and-“

Y/N only laughed observing the jealous dad display and fairly enjoying the show of care. It was heartwarming, seeing Jason put so much care into someone. And him having it reciprocated as Leah nuzzled into his body with multiple happy chuckles playing with the fabric of his shirt, fisting and twisting it mercilessly.

“Daddy…” she chuckled enjoying his embrace. Even as a child she was always calmer when he was holding her.  

“Shhh, shh baby. Daddy’s gotta have a word with mummy.” He caressed Leah’s hair and kissed the top of her  head. “Stop laughing at me Y/N, this is serious shit! I need to start planning my predicaments for boys who might want to steal her heart and-“

“She’s five Jason!” Y/N laughed even more “I think you have a little bit of time.”

“This is serious!” he perked up.

“Of course. The same way it’s serious with Dylan and Liam.”

Jason grunted in annoyance seeing how she tricked him.

“Dammit Y/N…” he grinned immediately flinching inside at the thought Leah heard the cussing. “Sorry, pumpkin…” the little kiss planted on girl’s forehead did not stop her from repeating the word however.

“Dammit!” Leah cried out the word on the top of her lungs happily.

And that was how Jason knew he was up to a serious conversation with his wife.

***

An hour later, all the family was sitting in the car, Jason driving, Y/N shotgun and the kids on the backseat, with Leah in the middle being simultaneously entertained by both her older brothers. Under  any other circumstances Y/N would probably let her motherly instincts come to the fore, but this time was different.

“Liam, Dylan, stop using my soft spots and family love for your own purposes.” She warned “you may love your sister, but you’re still in trouble.”

“We didn’t do anything!”

“Liam Thomas Todd!” she almost turned around ‘you got into a fight at school.”

“But it was not our fault mom!” the other son, immediately came to his brother rescue, having his back, which – again – awakened her motherly pride. A feeling she was not going to subdue to. Those boys needed a little reaming out regardless of siblings’ solidarity.  “That guy just came at us and –“

“Dylan Roy Todd. Violence is not an answer and-” She said, with conviction at first but then stopping, having realized that those kids did in fact have Jason’s and hers blood and those words were a hypocrisy in purest form. Fuck. She hissed to herself, hesitating in the middle of the sentence. A mistake Jason was more than willing to jump at.

“A fight huh?” he smirked looking into the rearview mirror to sneak a glance at his sons. Liam with already bruising eye and Dylan with a swollen nose, clutching it tightly to prevent any blood stains on upholstery. “So, did you use those blows and punches I’ve been teaching you?”

“WHAT!?” Y/N turned from facing her sons to facing her husband so fast that something snapped loudly in her neck. “JASON PETER TODD!”

“Y/N, Y/M/N, Y/L/N” Jason grinned in response, not paying her that much attention too curious of his offsprings response “Who won?”

“You should have seen the other guy” his boys smirked in the same way he was, and his fatherly heart could not be bigger at that moment.

Even if he knew Y/N was already planning her revenge on them all.

[jpmarvel90]

Don't Belong part 2

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Part 1

Word Count: 5499

Relationship: Mother WandaNat x Daugher Reader

Summary: After Y/n's accident on her mission, her mother's are terrified that they might not get the chance to make things right with their daughter. That's assuming Y/n wants anything to do with them when she comes around.

Nat: Mama Wanda: Mom

Nat's POV:

It's been over 24 hours since Y/n came out of surgery and she's still unconscious with a machine helping her breathe. I thought she would have been awake by now and there'd be a relief that she was on the start of her long road to recovery.

Instead, Wanda and I are glued to our seats next to her bed. We've only gotten up to use the bathroom. Otherwise, we've remained by her side. Pepper kindly offered to take the boys for as long as it's needed. Though they are both very anxious to see Y/n themselves. They might be young, but they understand that she's hurt. They love their sister, and they want her to wake up just as much as we do.

I've not slept since we found out that she was hurt, and I don't plan to until she is awake. Though the longer it goes on, the more my body is fighting against that desire. I want to be there when she wakes up to show her that her moms are going to be there for her the whole way through her recovery.

Wanda and I have spoken a lot over the last day. We've shared our pain and sadness, whilst making sure we come up with a plan to help her with her recovery and to ultimately gain her forgiveness.

We both know that Y/n will not forgive us easily, if at all. But that doesn't mean that we're not going to try with everything in us. For too long we've allowed her to go about her life thinking that we don't love or care for her anymore. She has every right to feel that way after how we've treated her. But she will not ever question that again.

The both of us are sat in silence, both of us watching over our daughter. My eyes are trained on her chest, making sure that she is still breathing, gaining a lot of comfort from the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. However, the silence doesn't last long until the door flies open.

Out of instinct, both Wanda and I shoot up from our seats and take a defensive stance in front of our daughter to protect her from any danger. However, we soon relax when we see Yelena's worried face. "I came as soon as I could." She tells us as she moves closer to the bed, her hand hesitant as it reaches out towards her niece.

Yelena has been away for most of the time over the last few years. She's been helping to find all the widows and has only come back for a couple of days at a time. Each time though, she has always made time for us. "How is she?" She asks, as I pull up another chair for my sister.

"It's not good. She's still in critical condition. They had to remove part of her liver, but Cho reckons that if she can get through these first few days, that she'll be on track for a full recovery." I fill her in as her eyes never leave Y/n. "Clint said that it was a double agent that set her up." She states and we nod in clarification. "I'll be paying a visit to Fury when I'm done here." She announces, an anger to her voice. "We've tried to see him, but Fury won't let us anywhere near him." Wanda warns her but Yelena just scoffs. "I'll get to him one way or another." She states and I believe her. She's incredibly protective of the people she loves, and she'll want to make sure that he pays. I actually hope that she does.

"Wait, you said you were with Clint?" I question her and she nods. "Yeah, he was with me on my last mission. He's waiting outside, he didn't want to intrude." She responds, pointing towards the window behind her where Clint is stood with a young girl next to him. "Who's with him?" I ask. "Kate Bishop. Clint's stray. He's going to see if she can join Shield." Yelena explains. "She was with us and had no where else to go so I said she could stay here for now." She adds on. If Clint thinks she's worthy of Shield, then I believe that she is. She must also be good if Yelena has been working with her. She wouldn't let anyone help who would slow her down.

"How long are you back for?" Wanda steps in with her own question, making my own ears prick up for her response. "As long as I need to be. I want to be around to help with her recovery." Yelena replies, making me smile. Y/n is going to need all the help she can get, and she adores Yelena, so I'm glad that she's not going anywhere any time soon.

After a while, we indicate for Clint and Kate to come in. We go through our introduction, and I can see how enthusiastic Kate is. She's very chatty and I'm surprise she's not pissed off Clint and Yelena yet though! "I read about Y/n in the Young Initiative files." Kate shares. "Did you know she is the only recruit to ever get a perfect score. She could have passed the exams two years ago and still topped the class." She tells us enthusiastically. "Sounds like you're a fan." Yelena teases her, making the young girl blush. "I guess when your parents are the Black Widow and the Scarlett Witch, you're going to be good." Kate chuckles.

It makes my gaze drop, something that Yelena clocks on to instantly. She's not been around so hasn't seen how we've treated Y/n. I'm actually worried for when I tell her. She's going to hate us for it and I'd be surprised if she even lets us stay around Y/n. "Y/n did it all on her own. With a little help from Steve. Her talent has come from her own ability and desire to be the best." Wanda corrects Kate, showing that we have no claim to how good Y/n is at being an agent. "Oh, that's even more impressive then. You must be really proud." She smiles at us and we both nod. "More than she'll ever know." I mutter.

__________

When Kate and Clint leave, Yelena is quick to question Wanda and I. We tell her of what's been going on and how ashamed we are and how much we want to be able to fix everything. "You don't deserve to fix it." She spits angrily at us. "It's no excuse to say that you got lost in the boys. Y/n is your daughter too and she needed you." She shouts, calling us both out on our actions. "We know Yelena. We can't take back how we've treated her. But I promise that we won't every do anything like that again!" I tell her sincerely. "No, you won't. I won't let you. If you are going to be back in her life as the parents you should have been, you have to be all in. You promised to be better than we had Natasha!" She tells me firmly with a finger jabbing into my chest.

"I know Yelena. I wish I had a valid excuse or reason for what we did. I will never forgive myself. I will always have a hatred towards myself for ever making her feel the way we did. But I'm not going to wallow and hide away from it. I want to own up to the mistake and try and fix it. I know that it's not going to be an easy fix, but I will stay here and face the brunt of the anger and pain that she's feeling because I will not give up on her. Not again." I tell her passionate. "Neither of us will. I promise you Yelena, we will do everything in our power to fix this." Wanda steps up and adds her own promise, taking my hand. At least we have each other through all of this.

Yelena doesn't speak, she just looks between the two of us, her chest heaving with anger. It's intimidating to be the one on the receiving end, but we deserve it. I'm glad that Yelena is here. She simple nods her head and that is the subject over with. For now.

That night, my body ultimately wins, and I end up getting a couple of hours sleep. Though it's full of nightmares that I can't seem to escape and then when I wake up, I'm terrified that Y/n will be awake already and I'll have missed it. But when my body wakes with a jolt, I'm met with my sleeping wife and still unconscious daughter.

I stretch out and move closer to the bed and take Y/n's bruised hand in my own. "I can't lose you. You are my daughter, blood or not and I love you so much. I know I haven't shown that to you and there is no excuse for that. I also know that you have every right to never forgive me. So, my only request, is please wake up. Please survive. I don't think I can live in a world without you in it." I plead with her. Hoping that somewhere in her subconscious she can hear me. I squeeze her hand, hoping for any response, but nothing comes.

The day goes by slower than usual. That is until Cho comes in to check on Y/n and gives us the good news that she should be able to breathe without the ventilator now. Wanda and I step outside as we watch through the window. We're holding on to each other tightly as we watch. "This is good. She's strong and this is the first step to her waking up." Wanda speaks. I can hear the hesitation in her voice, showing that she is trying to convince herself more than anything. "You're right. She is so strong. I know she's going to wake up soon." I add on, smiling at my wife.

Cho soon joins us with a smile. "She's doing well. She's now breathing easily on her own. I expect she'll wake up within a few hours. I'll be back to do a full examination then so we can assess her injuries." She informs us. I feel a sense of relief wash over me. Hopefully it won't be long until our daughter is back with us.

The next couple of hours seems to drag by. Clint, Yelena and Kate all paid another visit but left to try and sort a room out for Kate in the compound. Steve was then the next to join us, taking a seat at the end of Y/n's bed. It's a long wait until we finally see a twitch to Y/n's eye.

I'm the first to my feet, leaning over to see if I had imagined the small movement. "Y/n, honey. It's mama. Can you hear me?" I ask her, fighting off the tears threatening to fall. With a flutter, her blues eyes lock on to mine. "She squeezed my hand." Wanda says excitedly. "Baby, we're here." She tells Y/n, who's got a confused look in her eyes.

"You're in the medical wing sweetheart. You got shot on your mission." I explain to her. "S-t-Steve." She stutters out. "He's fine. He's here." I reassure her, waving for Steve to come closer. "Hey kiddo. Boy we're glad to see you awake." He tells her with a relived smile. One that she returns. "I'll got and get Dr Cho." Wanda states, quickly leaving the room. "T-the m-mission." Y/n starts but Steve is quick to stop her. "Is not to worry about right now. Just know it wasn't your fault. But we'll explain it when you're doing better." He tells her, earning a nod. She reaches out her hand to Steve and he instantly takes it. "You're not allowed to scare us like that again." He chuckles, his voice wavering.

"S-sorry." She replies, her eyes fluttering again. "It's ok sweetheart. Don't fight it if you want to sleep again." I tell her softly. She doesn't really acknowledge me, but she does seem to listen as her eyes flutter shut once again.

They don't stay closed for long though, soon woken up by Cho as she comes in with a wide smile. "There's my favourite patient." She smiles at Y/n, who grins in return. "I bet you s-say that to e-everyone." Y/n responds through a struggled chuckle. "But with you I actually mean it." Cho winks, before looking over Y/n's chart and obs.

She takes the time to explain Y/n's injuries to her and the plan for her recovery. I see her face drop when she realises she's going to be in the hospital for at least another week before being on strict bed rest when she's discharged. "I'll be around if you need anything or have any questions. So please get one of the nurses to get me if you need me. That goes for all of you." Dr Cho offers. "Thank you. For everything." I tell her sincerely. She gives me a tightly smile before turning on her heel and leaving the three of us too it.

With Cho gone, it's silent in the med bay as Wanda, Steve and I just watch over Y/n. She is struggling to keep her eyes open, but I can see a pain in them when they lock on to mine. "You should get some rest kiddo." Steve speaks up as Y/n nods in return. "W-will you s-stay?" She asks, making Steve smile widely. "Of course." He returns, moving to get another chair to sit with us. At that confirmation, Y/n seems comfortable enough to let her eyes close and for sleep to take back over.

It's almost agony to see her asleep once again. We've been waiting for so long for her to wake up, for her to be asleep so soon is tough. I almost want to start apologising and showing her that we're going to change and it's going to stick. But I don't want to overwhelm her. At the moment, her recovery is the most important thing. As much as I hate it, earning her forgiveness will have to wait.

"Now she's awake, you two should head to your apartment. See the twins, eat some proper food, and get some sleep. I can stay with her." Steve offers, but I'm quick to decline. "I don't want to leave her." I tell him, whilst gripping her hand tighter, my eyes not leaving her sleeping form. Steve lets out a sigh. "She'll be asleep for a while, and she needs you both on top form." He tells us.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up to see Wanda smiling warmly at me. I hadn't even noticed that she had moved from the other side of the bed. "Steve's right. We've been here for days. If we want to do what's right by Y/n, then we need to look after ourselves as well." She speaks sense.

With a huff I stand from my seat and lean forward to press a kiss to Y/n's head. "We'll be back later sweetheart. I love you so much." I tell her softly then move so that Wanda can say goodbye too. With one last look to our daughter, we both reluctantly leave. Though I smile when I see Steve move closer and take Y/n's hand in his own. Although I will forever regret how we have treated Y/n, I'm glad that she has had Steve there for her.

Y/n's POV:

Well, that was not how I wanted my first mission to go. I wanted to impress everyone, not end up in the med bay with part of my liver missing! Waking up was a weird experience. Seeing my parents' faces were the last thing I expected to see. They seem genuinely worried, but that was probably all a front for everyone else. They can't be seen to not care about the daughter they've ignored for the last few years.

When I wake up next, I see Steve smile down at me. "You're still here." I say and he nods. "Of course. I wanted to make sure that you're ok." He replies, making my own smile grow. I look around and my smile drops when I see that my moms aren't here. I can't hide that it hurts a little that they didn't stick around. But I shouldn't care about that. They haven't cared about me.

"Should have guessed they would go once I woke up." I complain, wincing as I try to adjust myself in bed. "Careful Y/n/n." Steve scolds me as he shoots to his feet to help adjust my pillows. "I told them to go." He admits and I look at him with a frown. "Not like that. But they have not left your side since you were brought in. They weren't looking after themselves and if they are going to help you through your recovery, they need to be at 100%" He explains but I just scoff.

"I don't need their help with my recovery. They didn't care before I was hurt, they don't get to care now." I groan. Steve takes his seat again and looks at me with his, "I know I'm right" look. "Y/n. I know you don't believe it, but they do care for you. They were cut up when you got hurt. They were devastated that they wouldn't have the chance to be able to make things up to you." He says. I roll my eyes, but he continues. "Look, I'm not saying you have to forgive them. But you can't question how much they have cared for you over the last few days."

"Fine, but I'm not going back to their place to recover." I huff, folding my arms. "Considering you've been shot and in a medically induced coma for the last few days, it's good to see it hasn't affected your attitude." Steve teases.

We sit in silence as I think about my parents. They surely can't think that just because they've been sat beside my bed whilst I've been hurt is going to make up for everything that they have done over the years? Who's to say that they won't go back to how they were once I'm healed? I have a place at Sheild now. Somewhere that I can make a name for myself and create my own family.

"I'm sorry I messed up the mission." I break the silence, my mind now moving on to the fact I failed at my first mission. "You didn't fail anything kiddo. We were set up. If anything, I should apologise to you. They were after me, but you were the one to get hurt. You did a great job of take on as many agents as you did." He explains, taking my hand in his. "You fought, and it's because of your skill and ability that you're alive. You impressed everyone." He assures me, running his thumb over my bruised knuckles.

Our moment is broken when my moms walk back in. "You're awake!" Mom says excitedly as both her and mama move into the room quickly. Steve moves back from my side, which I frown at as mama takes my hand in hers. I'm quick to pull it away. The hurt that flashes across her face doesn't go unnoticed, but I'm not in the mood to pretend like everything is ok right now.

"How are you feeling?" Mom asks, appearing to my left. "I'm fine." I respond shortly, receiving a warning raised eyebrow from Steve. "Are you in pain? I can get the nurse to come in and get you some pain killers." Mom fusses. "I'm fine." I repeat the same words. "That's not true, you've been wincing since you've woken up." Steve rats me out. Traitor. "If a 40 calibre bullet went through you, I'm sure you'd be wincing too." I snap. "Told you. Amazing how your attitude hasn't changed." Steve chuckles.

However, both my mom's look at me with worried looks. "I'm going to get Dr Cho. You look pale." Mom worries before rushing out the room.

Mama reaches forward and places her hand on my head, which I quickly try and move away from her touch. "You're hot. I hope you're not running a fever." She states. "Like you care." I mumble, but she hears it and that look of hurt appears on her face again. "Look Y/n. I know you believe that we don't care or love you. But that couldn't be further from the truth. I want nothing more than to talk to you about it and start to make up for everything. But right now, all that matters is your recovery. You can hate us and ignore us or yell at us, but we are not going anywhere." She states firmly, her eyes locked on to mine. I just roll my eyes and turn to look at Dr Cho who has walking into the room.

She checks me over and I notice the frown on her face. "What's up?" I question. "I'm worried about your temperature. I want to run some tests, but with the inflammation to your incision, I'm worried you've got an infection. It's nothing to worry about as we've caught it early. But we'll need to keep a close eye on you." She replies. "So, no discharge yet then." I huff.

Cho chuckles and looks up from my chart. "It's funny you think you were close even without this infection." She teases. "Aren't you meant to be nice to me? I'm a patient after all." I pout. "If I'm on good behaviour, can I get out early?" I plead. "Maybe in a week. But you'll be on strict bed rest and need to be cared for. You're still technically a minor." Cho breaks the news and I know exactly what she's getting at. "But I'm 18 in like 4 days! Besides, I literally got shot on a mission for Shield. Surely that's enough?" I argue.

"Y/n, you are going to struggle to walk, let alone be able to properly look after yourself. Even after you're 18, you'll need support during your recovery. It isn't a simple road ahead for you." Dr Cho returns. "So, what are you saying?" I get straight to the point. "I'm recommending that you are discharged to your family. You'll be in the compound so if anything goes wrong, you can get the right medical attention straight away." She explains. "Really? There are no other options. Can't I stay with Steve or something?" I ask but she shakes her head.

"Y/n, come on. It's what is best for you. Your moms will be there to help. I'll be away on missions so can't give you the care you need." Steve speaks up, but soon shrinks back as I glare at him. "Really, what makes you think that I'll get the care I need at home?" I growl, my anger building. "Y/n..." Mama starts but I cut her off. "No! You can't just stand there and act like the caring parents when you have done nothing to back that claim up. I've been the forgotten daughter for years! Slowly I have been pushed out this family and now you want me to just act like everything is ok and trust that you'll look after me?!" I yell, that frustration finally finding its way out.

"Y/n, you need to calm down. Your heartrate is getting too high." Dr Cho tries to calm me down. "Kiddo. You're ok. You need to give them a chance." Steve tries to reason. "A chance like I was given? I've practically raised myself these last few years!" I snap. Why is he suddenly defending them?!

"Please sweetheart. You're going to make yourself sicker. We want to be there for you. We're not denying how badly we've treated you. But I promise that it will never happen again. You'll be safe with us. We just want to be able to care for you and help you get to full health." Mama speaks, her eyes filled with tears. I look between her, and mom and I see that she's almost inconsolable. "Do I have a choice?" I sigh, turning to Cho. "Technically, yes. But physically, you won't be able to follow through with it." She breaks the bad news. Suddenly the sounds of my heart monitor becomes noticeable so I lie back and take a couple of deep breaths. I can feel all their eyes on me, and I let out a sigh. "Fine whatever." I respond. I just need to do everything that Cho tells me so I can heal as fast as possible and move back to Shield and start my life again.

__________

The next few days are not fun. My infection hit me pretty hard, and I spent a lot of time either sweating or freezing whilst fighting the urge to throw up. I hate being stuck in this bed and I just want to be healthy again and being able to go on missions. Before it went south, I was loving it. Even if it was just a small one.

I'm also finding it hard that my mothers are suddenly around all the time. Mama is much better at not smothering me. Mom on the other hand, she is always fussing. But that's her and I used to love it when I was younger, when she actually cared about my wellbeing. "Wands, she's already said she has enough pillows." Mama sighs, her own frustrations growing. "Yes, sorry you did." Mom apologises, slowly putting the pillow down she had in her hands.

"Can I get you anything else? Some food. Though the food here is pretty horrible. When you're back home, I'll make sure to cook you something tasty with the food you're allowed to eat." She starts to ramble. I'm not going to lie, that does sound amazing, and I'd kill for a bowl of paprikash right now. I remember when mom taught me how to cook it. It was one of the last memories I have of us spending quality time together.

I don't realise I'm smiling until I see both my parents looking at me warmly. I quickly shake it off, not wanting to let them think that I'm enjoying this in the slightest. "You know what. A sandwich would be good." I say, taking them both by surprise. I've not been very talkative, but I could do with a break right now. I know I won't be able to get rid of both of them, but I can at least take a break from mom fussing.

"Of course. I'll go and make you something up and bring it down. The bread is always dry here." She speaks, grabbing a couple of things and turning to leave. "Maybe I'll check with Cho if you could have a smoothy." She mumbles, making mama chuckle as she leaves.

I let out a breath of relief. I feel slightly less suffocated. But I am still very aware of mama's eyes boring into me. I'm used to her being quiet. She always observes, making her conclusions before talking when it's necessary. But seeing her now, it feels different. I'm pretty good at reading people and I can tell that she is lost in her own thoughts. I've only seen her like it a couple of times before and it's been after particularly difficult missions. Ones that bring up bad memories for her.

I grab the TV remote and try and find something to watch. I end up with Rizzoli and Isles on. I don't really watch it, but the sound is helping to break the awkward silence. Just after they break the case in the show, I notice mama sit more upright in her seat.

"When I found you in Hydra, I knew instantly that I wanted to help you. There was something about you that melted my heart. When we found out that you had no family to return you to, it wasn't even a question, I knew I was going to adopt you. In that short space of time, I had spent with you, I grew to love you." She starts. I don't look to her, my focus on the TV.

"Even though you had been through so much, you had this happiness around you. You were grateful for everything and found the joy in the smallest thing. I just wanted to give you a life that you deserved. When I married Wanda, I was so happy that I could give you two loving parents." From the corner of my eye, I can see her smile tearily as she picks at the skin around her fingers.

"I failed you Y/n. When I adopted you, I promised that I would be the best parent to you. That you would never want for anything. What's worse, is I never even noticed what I was doing. What we were both doing. I've always prided myself on being able to read people, but I couldn't see the damage I was doing to my own daughter." She continues, pain evident in her voice.

"I wish I could go back in time to change how we acted with you. To include you fully with the twins, to support you in your work in the Shield Programme. To show that even with the boys, you were loved and an integral part of this family. All I can do is apologise and promise that we are not going to let that happen again." She finishes, finally look up to me, a couple of tears falling down her cheeks.

"It's been years. We're not just talking about a couple of months here." I speak up, still not able to lock eyes with her. "Steve became more of a parent for me than the two of you." I admit, and that seems to make mama's heart break a little more. "Is it because I'm not biologically yours and moms?" I ask, my voice shaking.

Mama is quickly to her feet and takes my hand in between both of hers. "No. Of course not Detka, and I will forever hate myself that I've allowed you to think otherwise." She tries to reassure me, a panic in her eyes. "I wish I could give you a reason for why we acted like we did. Initially, it was because we were so focused on the boys, but after that, I have no idea. I wish I could pinpoint why, maybe it would make this all easier. I know you probably don't believe it, but I love you as much as those boys. Blood doesn't matter to me. You are my daughter as much as they are my sons. I know and feel that through every fibre of my body." She expresses. The sincerity is evident in both her voice and facial expressions. "Saying sorry isn't going to fix this. You only knew what you were doing because I called you out on it. Had I not gotten shot, would you have made any effort to rectify what was wrong?" I question her, my anger growing.

"We wanted to. We were planning on taking you to breakfast to talk and work out a way that we could make things right with you. But you had gone, and we couldn't get to you. You have a lot of people at Sheild that love you." She chuckles humourlessly. That is true. Maria is like an aunt to me and her and Fury happily kept my room allocation secret, "Look, I know that we don't deserve your forgiveness, but it doesn't mean that we are going to stop trying." She states firmly.

"It's not that simple mama. I have learnt to live without you now and I've got my own place with Shield. We can both move on with you getting your perfect biological family and I get the career I want." I say, but that only makes mama cry more. "No, our family is only perfect if you are in it too!" She almost shouts, but she's quick to calm herself down. "Look, we've got to live together through your recovery, let's just see how things go after that ok." She proposes. "Fine, but I can't promise anything will change." I respond and she nods. "I know. But I'm going to try everything to earn your forgiveness." She comes back with a newfound confidence.

We fall back into a silence, one that feels more comfortable. Mama looks less stressed, but her brow is still furrowed. When mom returns, the quiet is broken again, despite mama trying to get her to calm down. I try not to smile when she tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I miss this caring side of my parents so much. But for me, it's too little, too late.

Taglist: @reggierizzoli @ordelixx @mousetheorist

[mrs-kmikaelson]

05| The Tribrid

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader Summary: As you settle back into the Quarter, you juggle your personal and new professional life—but with the Mikaelsons, it was almost as if there was no difference between the two. Warnings: none Words: 5.6K

Masterlist | Part 6

a/n: i see this series getting long, guys; just letting you know. btw, i'm pretty much unoccupied, so u can expect new posts for this series and possibly other imagines like every 2-3 days. and tysm for all the support! anyway, i'll let you get to reading now.

I walked into the Abattoir with a façade of confidence. I was now completely sober, facing the repercussions of my drunken actions. It'd been about a week since my agreement with Elijah and he'd only just called me in to speak with him yesterday.

I was currently cursing my drunk self, but at least Marcel was now allowed back into the Quarter without any fuss. Of course, he wasn't allowed back into the slaughterhouse, but he did compel himself a nice little townhouse a few minutes of human-walking away from my place.

In New Orleans, it was always better to live in the Quarter than anywhere else. This was the heart of the city's supernatural happenings. You were both safest here and also at most danger. But I guess, if you had enemies, you wanted to be in the Quarter because, if you had a crew to roll with, then nobody would really try you.

That's how it used to be at one point in time, and that's what the factions were trying to achieve now.

I was immediately greeted after making it past the gates. "Y/N," Elijah said, walking towards me, hands held out. He wrapped an arm around me, walking me to the couches in the middle of the courtyard. I tried not to show any discomfort at the physical touch. "It's lovely to see you."

I chuckled a little. "Feeling's mutual," I replied, causing the nobleman to let out a little laugh himself. I sat down on one of the couches while he sat on the other. "So, what have we got today?"

He sighed, "The withes are unhappy because of- all due respect, Marcellus' actions."

Right. Marcel forbade anyone to do magic. While I understand his reasoning, trying to protect a little witch by the name of Davina Claire, it was cruel. To ask a witch to go without magic was like asking a human not to breathe; it was damn near impossible.

Even though I get what he was trying to do, I still didn't agree with it—but that didn't mean that I agreed with what the New Orleans witches were doing either.

"So I've heard. But I'm sure you're aware of why he did what he did." He was; otherwise, I wouldn't have brought it up. I wouldn't do anything to endanger Davina; she'd become like a family to me. I knew that the Mikaelsons knew all about Davina, the harvest, and whatnot.

"Yes, of course. To protect Davina, I understand. She is special, without a doubt." Elijah's voice with filled with nothing other than conviction; I'd expect nothing less when people were speaking about Davina.

I smiled thinking about her. "Yes, she is."

"However, it still hasn't done us any favours on a community-wide scale." Elijah ran a hand through his hair. "The witches' spokesperson, Genevieve, is just about furious with the treatment they've received." A look suddenly appeared on his face. "And considering the... interactions my family has had with her, I wouldn't want to anger her further, especially since Hayley is with child."

This was the first time my heart didn't stop at the mention of Klaus' unborn baby. Instead, I was too focused on the witch Elijah named: Genevieve. Now, this was a name Marcel had somehow neglected to inform me about, but I was well aware of who she was.

From my understanding, Rebekah Mikaelson killed her the same year the Mikaelsons fled New Orleans, sometime in the early 1900s. Marcel spilled the whole story to me one night when he was drunk.

Genevieve died. Yet, according to Elijah (and I know this is not a coincidence) she's alive leading the NOLA coven.

Great.

I responded after a beat, bringing my hands together. "Okayyy, so what are we doing?"

"Making the witches happy, love."

Now my heart stopped.

I turned my head to see Klaus just finishing walking down the stairs. "Elijah tells me you're our new... fixer." He shrugged, making his way to the minibar. "So fix it."

"Niklaus."

"Get a grip, Elijah. I don't think I'm offending the young woman," he said before turning to face me. "Am I offending you, love?"

I skipped the whole processing bit of this situation and dived straight into my persona. "Not at all."

Klaus made a gesture to me with his hand, turning back to his brother. "See, Elijah. Marcel's right hand has tough skin." Elijah responded with a much more exhausted sigh than before, rubbing his hand on his face. Klaus ignored this, turning back to me with a bottle of bourbon in his hand. "Want me to pour you a glass, Y/N?"

"It is ten o'clock in the morning, Niklaus."

"All the more reason," he quipped back. "Y/N?"

I tried to loosen up, but my smile probably came out a little more tense than I originally intended. "I'm good; thank you."

Klaus looked at me for a few seconds before shrugging and pouring his own glass. Elijah took this opportunity to continue, but not before letting out another sigh. "As I was saying before my brother so tersely interrupted us, Genevieve has agreed to meet with us after I told her that you—Marcel's right hand, as Niklaus put it—were going to be representing us."

I tried to focus all my attention on the task at hand instead of my absent father who kept looking over at me periodically. I remembered what this was like when I did it for Cellie; I just had to get back in the game. "So, if you are looking to make an agreement of some sort, what are you willing to negotiate—give up, even?"

Just as Elijah was about to answer, Klaus briskly cut him off. "Oh, that's all on you, love." I narrowed my eyes slightly and he elaborated. "You decide then and there what you think is fair." He shrugged again, and although he looked carefree, he also had a smug look on his face that I doubt he was even trying to hide. "Ball's in your court." This was a test.

I didn't ponder on that for too long, nodding to him. "I can do that."

Klaus nodded back. He looked like he wanted to say something, but a quick look from Elijah seemed to make him want to hold his tongue. Thank God.

While I seemed like I was coming a long way, just the mere idea of holding a conversation with this man was terrifying. There were so many things I was holding my tongue about. It was just lucky that I so happened to be 500 years old. A few, quick conversations with my dad who had no idea I was his illegitimate child would not break me. Maybe it fucked with my head, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle.

I'm here after all, aren't I?

Elijah cleared his throat. "Well, it seems to me that we've discussed everything we needed to discuss for today." He stood up and I followed suit. "Again, it was lovely seeing you, Y/N."

"Likewise." I shook the hand he held out, once again ignoring the weird original rush I felt. "I'll see myself out." Couldn't get out faster.

I walked toward the exit before Elijah could say something gentlemanly about escorting me out and before Klaus could say something that'd boggle my mind even further. I assumed he'd text me the details about the meeting later.

I took a deep breath immediately once I was far enough from the compound that I was sure they wouldn't hear me. I had no idea how I was going to get used to any of this, but it was too late to go back now.

In the meantime, I decided to take my mind off the Mikaelsons for a bit by visiting someone who I've yet to see.

I walked into the old church with caution. It wasn't like I had a problem with Kieran; I just felt awkward whenever I talked to him, so I'd rather avoid him. I've had enough awkward situations in these past few weeks to last me a lifetime.

To my luck, he was absent and so I just walked straight upstairs, dodging cobwebs as I went until I made it to the attic's ajar door. A girl sat on a stool in front of an easel, painting a landscape. She was so focused she didn't even notice me push the door the rest of the way open.

I smiled, leaning on the door as I looked around the room that'd changed since I last saw it, now more decorated and screaming it'd been touched by a teenage girl. "So Marcel's still got you holed up in here, huh?"

She instantly spun around with her jaw dropped. "Y/N?!" She ran toward me, engulfing me in a tight hug that I'm sure would've broken some bones if I was human.

I chuckled, "Hi, Davina. I've missed you, too."

She pulled back, looking over me with disbelief visible on her face. "Oh, my God- when did you get back?"

"A little while ago. I'm sorry I couldn't come see you sooner, but I've been absolutely swamped. I promise, though—going into the future, I'll make time to see you." Davina smiled, pulling me back in for another hug. Her happiness spread to me and I started smiling so hard that my cheeks hurt. I think this might be the first time I've been this happy since I got back to New Orleans.

Davina was an amazing kid. I was supposed to meet up with Marcel the night of the harvest when he saved her, and so I ended up meeting her a few months before I left. She just so happened to be one of the few people who know my secret. She was incredibly gifted and reminded me so much of my younger self. I felt like I owed it to her, to myself, to be there for her. In the short time I've known her, she's become something like a little sister to me, if not a daughter.

When we broke from the hug, we both ended up sitting on the bed. I let her catch me up on what's been happening, even though I already more or less knew it from Marcel's summaries. "Okay, so if the witches aren't trying to hunt you down anymore, why are you still hiding away in this attic?"

"Well, I'm not hiding away anymore," she replied. "Marcel just figured it'd be safer for me to stay here instead of with them. He still doesn't trust them and, honestly, neither do I. They've been acting kind of weird since the witches were resurrected, but I just deal with it and go there everyday to practice."

I hummed. I understood Marcel's reasoning; keeping Davina at the church was actually pretty smart. I wouldn't trust her with a bunch of vengeful witches, either, especially after they tried to kill her once. But this attic was far too small for a little girl to spend her days in.

I looked around the cluttered room, thinking before I said screw it and decided to propose my idea to Davina. "What if you didn't have to stay here?" I asked, looking back at her.

She furrowed her brows. "What do you mean? It's not like there's anywhere else I could go, besides with the witches."

"Not necessarily true." I sat up straighter. "I mean, my townhouse has three rooms, and only one of those rooms isn't empty." I shrugged, gesturing around the room. "It's bigger than this place, so all your stuff would fit."

She sat up too. "Wait, are you being serious?"

"Hell yeah, I am. And the protections on my place are a lot better than this church's, trust me."

"You want me to move in with you?"

"Yeah, Davina, that's what I've been sayi-" I was cut off when she threw her arms around me in the tightest hug she'd given me since I entered the attic, and that was saying something.

"Oh, my gosh! Yes, of course!" 

I giggled at her enthusiasm, hugging her back before pulling away to pull my phone out of my back pocket. "Okay, I'll drop you off at the apartment now and I'll text some people to come pick up your stuff and bring it to you." I glanced back up at her for confirmation, looking back at my phone when she giddily nodded. "You can just make yourself at home and get settled in. I'll be home a bit later; I just have a business meeting first."

"Yeah, sure." Davina then stood up, looking around and clapping her hands. "I'll start packing!"

I laughed for what felt like the umpteenth time since I've seen her, standing up too. "Alright, D. I'll see you later," I said, but she was already far too engrossed in packing her things, giving me a distracted goodbye. I shook my head, the corners of my lips going up even higher as I left the room.

Thank God I wouldn't have to come back to this creepy ass church anymore. I really hadn't even thought of asking Davina move in with me; it was such a spur of the moment kind of thing, but I had no doubts then and no doubts now. She'd be safer with me than here, with the witches, or even Marcel.

At the though of my friend, I went to text him about this new development, coming across a message from Elijah along the way.

Elijah M. We'll be meeting the witches at 7:00 PM at the compound.

You OK, I'll be there.

I stuffed my phone back into my pocket after responding to Elijah and texting Marcel about Davina. Seven was two hours away, so I had time to go home and freshen up before the meeting.

I wasn't nervous; I'd already been here before, already done it all, but I did feel a weird pressure to do this well. Something in me said Klaus was counting on me to fail, so it was my job to prove him wrong.

I walked right into the compound later without standing out front for ten minutes like I did this morning. I was gonna have to get used to this all eventually and I'd prefer that'd happen sooner rather than later. 

I was apparently earlier than everyone else because there wasn't a Mikaelson or red-haired witch in sight. I checked my watch: 6:30, it read. Earlier than I expected, but that was fine with me. I wiped the imaginary dust off my outfit: slacks and a tight white dress shirt that I'd unbuttoned just enough to not look like a female Elijah. Resemblance to the Mikaelsons was not what I needed right now.

I was just about to pull out my phone to keep myself busy when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around, my eyes meeting the mother of Klaus' kid. "Oh, hi," she greeted, a surprised look on her face. "What are you- oh, right, Elijah told me you guys were meeting with the witches tonight."

"Yeah- it, uh, appears that I'm a bit early." I chuckled, making small talk even though I really didn't want to have any unnecessary conversations with anyone that lived in this building.

"No, it's a good quality. Elijah's like that," she told me. I nodded, ignoring my thoughts which were questioning her relationship with Elijah. Something told me it was a lot more complicated than it seemed. "I wanted to thank you, by the way."

My brows furrowed. "Hm? For what?"

"For covering me that day with Elijah- and for saving me from that vampire that day, too," she expressed with an almost bashful look on her face. "I realize I was pretty rude to you, but I was really just having a bad day, and-"

"And I'm a vampire, so you were just being careful." She let a small, embarrassed smile form on her lips which I reciprocated. "It's fine, I get it. I'd do the same if I were in your shoes."

"Thank you for understanding; I really appreciate it." I told her it was no problem, resisting the urge to be nosy and ask why she didn't wanna tell Elijah what happened; I didn't want to risk her growing suspicious of me.

Before Hayley and I could fall into an uncomfortable silence, Klaus and Elijah strolled in through the gates into the courtyard. Klaus' eyes narrowed between me and Hayley, probably in a protective manner, while Elijah greeted me. 

"Y/N, sorry to have kept you waiting-"

"Oh, no, it was no biggie." I gestured to Hayley. "I had good company, anyways." Hayley smiled, excusing herself after wishing us luck with the witches, but I doubted I'd need it.

I was good and I knew it. Half a millennium alone in the world taught you how to negotiate, how to get your way when you had no one else on your side. Really, I was less worried about the witches and more worried about being in Klaus' presence.

Speak of the devil.

"The witches should arrive soon," Klaus announced, glancing down at his watch then up at me, a smirk arising on his face. "And then you'll be able to play your hand."

I stopped myself from narrowing my eyes or doing anything that showed I felt the shade he was so obviously throwing my way. Clearly, without even having really spoken to me, dear old dad has decided he doesn't like me, much less trust me. I don't know why that hurt because I don't even want to be talking to him period. I guess there's just a part of me that disagrees with that.

Like this morning, Klaus didn't waste a second before walking over to the bar. "Can I interest you in a drink whilst we wait, love?" He poured himself a glass. "Some... liquid courage, if you will."

He's being a jackass on purpose.

I declined, "No thanks." I shook my head. "I don't need it." And I also don't need to be under the influence around the Originals.

Klaus chuckled in an almost sardonic manner. Like the night I met him, he had a dark air around him that he barely cared to conceal. Klaus wanted people to notice that about him; he wanted people to be scared. And I was, but for entirely different reasons.

However, I'd sooner die before letting him know that. If he wanted to play hard ball, then I'd be the best damn batter he's ever seen.

Klaus turned around, tipping his glass to me. "You're quite confident."

"Well, I can back it up," I quipped back. In response, he sarcastically smiled, taking a sip of the brown liquid in his hand. From the corner of my eye, I saw Elijah glancing in between us watchfully.

"So I've heard- and you know, it got me thinking, what exactly is it about you that makes you so special?" This-

I was given time to pause by Elijah's interjection. "Niklaus."

He held his hands out in the air. "What, Elijah? I'm just curious," he reasoned.

I cut Elijah off before he could say something more in order to respond. "No, it's alright, Elijah; I understand the skepticism." I looked back to Klaus whose eyes just so imperceptibly narrowed. "The reason why people are more inclined to listen to me is because I don't operate with a desire to instill fear in others, just respect." I maintained eye contact with Klaus, hoping he was picking up what I was putting down. I knew he got the message when I saw his jaw clench.

He looked like he was going to say something else, but before he could, the gates to the compound opened. All three of us looked toward the entrance to see Genevieve and two other witches walking beside her, like a little entourage.

Elijah seemed to let out a sigh of relief at the intrusion. "Genevieve," he greeted, walking toward them. "Thank you for agreeing to this meeting. Please, take a seat. Can we interest you in any beverages?"

While Elijah was clearly doing his best to mediate, Klaus didn't say a word, only burning a hole into the side of Genevieve's head with a hard glare while he drank his scotch.

The three of them sat down on one couch as Elijah and I sat on the one parallel to it. "No, that'll be alright," she said, crossing her legs. "I know you appreciate verity, Elijah, so I'm gonna be honest: I wouldn't have agreed to this meeting if it weren't for the woman sitting next to you."

Elijah nodded. "Yes, I'm completely aware. Y/N is here to make sure that we both get what we want and to ensure that the future of the Quarter, and everyone in it, is prosperous."

I smiled, holding my hand out. "Hello, it's lovely to meet you. I've heard many good things about you." That was a lie.

Shaking my hand, she responded, "Likewise. The elders of the coven are practically smitten with you. I've never seen witches so eager to deal with a vampire."

"Well, I hope that, after our discussion, you will also be more eager to work with the Mikaelsons."

Genevieve almost scoffed at what I said. In my peripheral, I saw Klaus roll his eyes—at me or her, I'm unsure. "Please, Y/N—I'm sure you're aware of who exactly these people are and what they've done. Even though you're a vampire, you have to admit it's outrageous." Her voice was incredulous.

I really don't understand what she was making a big fuss about. From the way the story was told, Genevieve used to have a huge crush on Klaus back in the day—ew—but I wasn't gonna actually use that against her. I didn't want her to resent me; I actually needed her to like me for this to work.

"I understand where you're coming from," I told her, managing to muster up a sympathetic expression. "But we all want the same thing: peace. That is the final destination; there are so many stops along the way to get there, so if peace is where we truly want to be, then we need to be willing to put aside our differences."

The redhead sighed. "I hear what you're saying, but how can we expect peace while working with these people? How do you expect us to trust them?" Now, Klaus scoffed, causing both Genevieve and Elijah to look over at him, Elijah with a more stern look in his eyes. I, on the other hand, ignored him altogether, focusing completely on the witch in front of me.

I said her name to get her attention back onto me, thus causing Elijah to look away from his brother, too. "I am, in no way, asking you to trust blindly. We're willing to negotiate; just state your terms." I knew this was dangerous, giving her the opportunity to ask for whatever she wanted, but the witches had been recently oppressed; giving them the chance to ask for what they wanted was like an apology of sorts, one that I felt they'd appreciate.

Genevieve looked hesitant, glancing at both of her associates, to Elijah, Klaus, and then back to me. Even without looking at him, I could feel Klaus staring at me, probably questionably. None of them were expecting that move. 

See, because I was representing the Mikaelsons, Genevieve expected me to state their terms first then negotiate since they were more powerful. So, of course she was surprised.

After a beat of silence, she finally spoke up. "We want to practice freely."

"Done."

"And we want to celebrate our festivals without a hassle."

"Of course."

"And we want to reclaim witch territory for ourselves and ourselves alone, like the Lafayette cemetery." 

"Reasonable," I noted, waiting for her to say something else. When she didn't, I asked, "Is there anything else we can give you? You don't have to answer right now; we'll take some time then I'll get a contract drafted-"

"Esther Mikaelson's grimoire." At her interjection, the room went silent. I didn't even wanna know what Klaus looked like right now, but Genevieve sure as hell seemed to have regained her confidence. "We want Esther Mikaelson's grimoire." That was one ballsy request.

"Are you out of your mind?" For the first time since the witches walked into the compound, Klaus spoke. I looked over at him to see a look of shock adorning his face as if the redhead just tried to kill him—and, I mean, was he that far off?

You don't ask for the Original Witch's spell book without wanting to kill or at least having the ability to kill if you so need it.

Elijah seemed to recover from a shock of his own, trying to calm his brother down. "Niklaus-"

"I am not giving you my mother's grimoire." Klaus had set his drink down, walking toward where we were all sitting. Smoke might as well have been coming out of his ears. I knew that, if I were one of the three witches sitting across from me, I'd be shitting myself. "After what you tried to do to my family, you expect me to hand over-"

"Niklaus." Elijah cut him off, but more firmly and this time Klaus actually listened, turning to look over at Elijah with hard eyes. His eyes flickered to me for a split second before looking back at Genevieve—or glaring, rather.

While Genevieve looked slightly startled, I saw the dead-set expression on her face. It'd be hard to try and convince her that Esther's grimoire wasn't what the witches wanted, but it was possible.

Gears turned in my head as I thought it over until a quick idea popped into my head. At that moment, I began, "I'm sorry, Genevieve. We can do everything else you mentioned, put it in writing, but Esther Mikaelson's grimoire is a no-go." I saw her shaking her head before I even finished.

"Then no deal-"

Elijah cut in, "Genevieve, please-"

"I can give you the next best thing." I caught Genevieve's attention easily, along with everyone else's in the room. In seconds, I had come up with a quick fix; it was a gamble, but if you aren't willing to go big, then go the fuck home. "I currently have a Bennett grimoire in my possession." I paused, gauging her reaction. Clearly, this night was full of surprises. 

I suppressed the urge to glance over at my relatives; I had a feeling that I already knew what their faces looked like.

Genevieve struggled to compose herself, so I continued, "It's yours, so long as you accept." I understood what was happening here: the witches or the spirits or whatever were already decided, and they wanted the Mikaelson grimoire, but how could they be upset with what I was offering? A Bennett spell book was a damn good replacement if I ever saw one, and if anyone knew that, it was Esther's children themselves.

I knew the history—I've spent my life learning it. Ayana taught Esther everything she knew; the Bennett bloodline was one of the strongest, maybe even stronger than the Mikaelsons. And although I doubt Genevieve knew the lengthy Bennett history, she quickly got her bearings and responded, "I- we accept-"

I cut her off, smiling, "Great. Now our turn." I clasped my hands together. "You guys can keep your sanctuaries, the cemetery and whatnot, but in shared areas like the rest of the Quarter, we ask that you remain peaceful and avoid altercations with other factions. We're asking the same of the other factions, as well. Similarly, the Mikaelsons don't want conflicts, so we'd also like to avoid altercations in that area." 

It seemed pretty simple because it was. It was like what Elijah said to me that night in Rousseau's: everybody wants power, and the witches were no different. They didn't agree to this meeting for peace; they agreed because they wanted power, and the Mikaelsons struck this deal for the same exact reason, even if that's not how the nobleman would've phrased it.

While I didn't provide the witches with the same prepared list of terms, what I was asking for would have the same effect. The Originals were already on top, so what more did they really need to ask for?

Genevieve, once again, looked over at the two girls sitting next to her who both nodded at the silent question she was asking. When she turned back to me, the smallest of smiles was on her lips. "You have yourself a deal."

I reciprocated her expression as we both stood up. I shook her hand. "Pleasure doing business with you. I'll work on getting that contract drafted in more detail, so please, come to us with any other requests you may have."

Genevieve nodded, letting go of my hand, and Elijah took the pleasantries from there, walking them out of the compound. This left Klaus and I alone momentarily.

I looked over at him to see that he was already staring at me. I felt a chill go down my spine from how intently he was looking at me, my mini adrenaline rush dying down. It looked almost like he was picking me apart with his gaze.

I didn't want him to think I had something to hide, so I held his stare. We were both silent until Elijah walked back. This time, he didn't seem to sense the tension in the room—that, or he just chose to ignore it. 

"Thank you, Y/N," he said. I looked away from Klaus to smile in response, but the second I did, he broke his vow of silence.

"How do you have a Bennett grimoire in your possession?" Klaus' voice was cold and accusatory, just as his eyes were. Elijah just might have frozen had he not been a thousand-years-old; hell, I probably would have, too, but I'd already been crafting an explanation as soon as the idea popped into my head.

Not the real explanation, but one that made more sense.

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I met one a few hundred years ago. She died after she was in the wrong place, wrong time, but she left that book to me."

Klaus didn't look sold. "A Bennett witch left her grimoire with you, a vampire? Not with her family?"

"Well, to be fair, she wasn't in touch with her family at that time," I retorted. "And I was human at the time so, yes, she left it to me because she knew it could come of use one day."

Klaus didn't reply to me, instead choosing to continue staring me down. However, his glare was now lessened, so I knew he sort of believed me, even though he had doubts.

In the time that Klaus wasn't saying anything, Elijah cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to him. When I looked over, he smiled and tried to further de-escalate the situation. "Thank you, again, Y/N."

That was my cue to leave. "No problem. Are you okay with meeting up tomorrow to discuss the contract?"

He nodded. "Of course. Lunch?"

"Sounds great," I said, grabbing my bag that I'd left on the armchair next to me. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

Elijah bid me farewell while Klaus remained mute, but I still felt him staring at me, even as I was walking out; only when I'd walked two minutes away from the compound did I finally let go of that feeling

I didn't speed all the way home this time like I had been doing recently after exiting the Abattoir. Instead, I decided to take this time to think since I really haven't gotten a moment alone all day.

The excuse I gave Klaus wasn't too far from the truth—I only warped it slightly. I didn't know who he knew or how well he knew my mother before he slept with her, but I knew that if I gave him the real story, there was a possibility that he'd find out who I was.

The real story was that my mother was best friends with a Bennett. Almost like history repeating itself if you thought about it; Amelia Bennett was to my family what Ayana was to the Mikaelsons. She was both a mentor to my mother and me.

In reality, we were a lot closer than I made it sound. She was a lot closer to my mother than she was with the rest of her family. We were in Salem; the witch trials were just beginning, so any witch in the area was either preparing to leave or to die. She was anticipating the latter, so before she died, she made sure to leave the assets she had to my mother. 

The other Bennetts didn't dispute this, fleeing west. The rest of the story, I try not to think about. I needed to be strong, for Davina, for Marcel, for Amelia, for my mother, and for myself; otherwise, everything I've sacrificed would've been for nothing.

With that thought, I had a new resolution.

This, what I was doing here in New Orleans, could not fail. I have not lived the life I've lived just to fail. So from this moment forward, I decided to be better, to be stronger. No more quivering at the mention of my father or his baby, no more getting shaken up by conversations with the Mikaelsons.

Walking toward my apartment, I made myself a promise.

This city will not break me, no matter what.

[rainbow-femme]

Rewatching the animated Beauty and the Beast

-Right off the bat the thing in the opening that gets me is not the possible age implication but the fact that this prince is opening his own doors and to people he’s not expecting. You’re lucky it was just an enchantress looking to test the purity of your heart and not an assassin. Just power posing with the door fully open, no guards, going “Oh hey it’s someone I don’t know! I’m going to have a conversation with them alone” before god and everybody. Of course you got cursed, your guards should have rugby tackled her before she could get her wand out

-I never liked Maurice as a kid and I still don’t. Like he’s not bad he’s just annoying to me every time he’s on screen. The wind blows and he’s dying on the side of a cliff somewhere

-It is never not funny to me that Belle promises to stay in the castle forever and then just leaves three hours later

-I love Gaston having his whole “I’m going to get Belle’s father locked up so she marries me” scheme and then she’s fully just not remotely near the town. He’s living in a high stakes drama and she’s clapping along to dancing tea cups

-Hey when Maurice goes to look for Belle he grabs a bunch of rolled up pieces of paper and protractor. Is the idea that he’s just gonna invent and build something while actively walking? Sir you spent 6 hours in a dungeon and nearly died of being in a dungeon disease, you can’t help yourself out of a wet paper bag much less get your daughter out of anywhere with an invention you made out of rocks and sticks while clawing your way through the woods because you’re dying again

-But it is funny to imagine this revolving door of Maurice and Belle trading themselves for the other until the beast is just like “hey if I let you both leave will you promise to never come back”

-Belle is such a dick at the beginning it’s so funny. “Oh there’s one place in this giant castle I can’t go? I bet he’s hiding all the really cool stuff in there and I’m going to ignore his wishes and that of the staff. Oh no, consequences, the guy who said not to come here is upset I came here! Who could have foreseen this!”

-Like it’s not bad writing, it’s her character arc that she was mainly focused on herself and her interests and pretty judgemental of people who weren’t like her, so her disrespecting someone’s boundaries because she want to sets up something she grows from, and she learns to connect with someone else on their level even if that person is different from her and she learns that people are more than their surface appearance and even an angry beast has depths if you actually get to know them and see their view of the world, and connecting with people who are different from you enriches your life. Which is why when the townsfolk later try to kill the beast because he’s different we see she’s now understood the danger of that way of thinking and is horrified

-But that’s such a funny thing to do just immediately upon entering a castle owned by a big scary beast. Day one hour one she’s like “oh boy I know where I wanna go!”

-I don’t want to be a CinemaSins and point out how improbable it is that Belle got a giant unconscious beast onto her horse when he would be hundreds of pounds. But I do want to see the scene of her doing it. I’m picturing the horse sorta laying down and the beast is on the ground like a sack of potatoes and Belle has her back against him and is pushing with her legs to try and roll him over. Or she’s got her shoulder against him and is trying to push that way but her feet keep slipping in the snow

-Oh my god I forgot they told her about the library before the beast “gives” it to her. She was already allowed to go in there and knew it existed, “giving” someone a room they had full knowledge of and access to is very funny

-But you know what if he’s the kind of guy who thinks that will work and she’s the kind of girl it works on then they’re perfect for each other. Just two people with zero social skills bumbling around a castle together, making weird decisions and the other is like “wow they’re so cute and normal”

-I love the sweeping faux crane shot during the ballroom dance. Over 30 years later and that shit still slaps, more animated movies need to act like they’re being shot and edited like live action

-Maurice really can find a way to immediately die in any situation. When he’s at home he’s fine but the second he leaves the town border he develops tuberculosis and begins losing all function in his limbs

-I’m going to be honest with you guys, I’ve seen various versions of Beauty and the Beast and every time it’s the letting Belle go scene I have the same thought: I absolutely would not have read that social interaction correctly, I would have been fully under the impression we were all aware I was running an errand and coming back later. Because if I’m Belle, and I can live in the cool castle with a friend and people who are nice to me or a town I specifically stated not liking filled with a guy who is pushy and makes me uncomfortable and people who are mean to me and zero friends, I would not have been like “oh thank god I can finally go back!”

-“You should go to him. I release you, you are no longer my prisoner” See to me that reads “We are friends and I am removing this technicality between us so you can go run out and do something that is clearly important to you.” I would not have picked up on everyone in the castle thinking I was leaving forever. I’d just show up two hours later like “boy, it’s been a day, huh?” and the beast is just laying face down on the floor in his room listening to a sad boy playlist

-But the beast is clearly part dog so I guess it’s a normal reaction for him to have

-I don’t want to victim blame, but if you have a sick dad and are equidistant between “castle where everyone likes you” and “town where everyone is mean to you” and your dying father can be cured by a nap, I feel like it’s a bit on you if bad things continue to happen in the Bad Things Happen To Me town

-Not saying she should have anticipated a mob coming to incarcerate her father but I do feel like it would be expected that the people who have been mean to you and your dad would continue to be mean to you and your dad in the Everyone Is Mean To You and Your Dad town

-Because if the forced incarceration hadn’t been an issue, they would have gone to town the next day and someone would go “Hey Belle, your dad said you were kidnapped by a beast.” And everyone would point and laugh and he’d start waving his arms and going “It was the biggest beast you ever saw! 18 feet tall and claws bigger than my head!” and people would probably suggest that the guy they all call Crazy Old Maurice may be crazy and Belle would need to prove he wasn’t. I just don’t think we would have ended up with much of a different situation in any timeline that involves going back to the town

-Ok. So. If I live in a town. And I find out there is a beast within walking distance that is sentient enough to take villagers prisoner. And this guy is like “yeah he took me and my daughter prisoner, he’s terrifying!” I’m not saying I would have been part of the mob but I do think I would be worried about there being a beast and two people he previously kept prisoner living next door. And her saying “no he’s actually very sweet” would sound like those people with exotic pets who get their faces eaten by their pet tiger. Like yes they’re wrong but Belle also thought he was scary and violent until she’d been there a number of hours. I feel like if instead of giving herself up she went to town and asked for help and they created a mob to get her father back she would not have been against the idea so it’s not wholly their fault for having the same idea

-“Is it dangerous?” “No, no, he’d never hurt anyone” Every owner of a dog who wants to bite you so so bad

-So when Belle and her father are alone she is clearly telling him that the beast let her go and is kind. When asked about the beast by the town, Maurice starts yelling about how he’s the most terrifying monster in the world. Belle has to show the beast to back up her father’s claims to try and save him for the second? third? time. And then they’re locked up and she says “this is all my fault” and this man does not for a second contradict her or take blame at all. “Yeah I can’t believe you specifically caused this mess.”

“We won’t rest until he’s good and deceased.” I know there are only so many words that rhyme with beast but that’s such a funny line in a bloodlust song. I will not rest until this animal has been declared legally dead by the state

-“We will fight even though the danger just increased” I’m obsessed with all the words they had to use to rhyme with beast

-It’s so funny that this is canonically France and he is canonically a prince. They didn’t make him a duke or a lord he is directly related to the royal family and in the line of succession. Likely not the dauphin because they wouldn’t have sent him to run a castle in the countryside away from the center of politics so probably a younger son but still, this guy is part of the royal family. They didn’t have to explicitly state this is France but they do, and they reference the baroque period so it’s after the construction of Versailles. The beast is actively being stabbed to death while sentient furniture watches and at the same time his family are canonically pissing on the walls and floors of their own home

-Oh my god the beast is brooding on a chaise. Did he drag it over to the window just so he could dramatically sit on his chaise and stare longingly out at the rain? Absolute break up mood

-He’s also in a different outfit that isn’t the fancy one or his every day one, he went and changed into a breakup outfit. Important to note the breakup outfit includes a cape and what he was previously wearing did not. He chose to put on a cape as part of his breakup outfit

-So Gaston points his arrow at the beast. The beast acknowledges it then looks away. Gaston then fires and hits him and he reacts all surprised and angry that it hurt like my dude you let him shoot you with an arrow, what did you think that experience would be

-It is so wild that Gaston assumes the beast is in love with Belle. Like yeah he’s right but what a wild assumption to make when you’re not even sure this thing comprehends human speech. Again my thought would be he’s attached to her like a dog is attached to its owner, I would not see a big furry animal and be like “this thing is fully sentient and feels romantic attraction to human women”. Yeah he’s wearing clothes but still that feels like a leap. Pointing at a dog in a sweater following its owner and yelling “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

-The beast’s arc is partly him controlling his temper, and we see him want to kill Gaston but controls himself and lets him go, immediately resulting in his own death. Gotta be honest I feel like less self control would have been helpful in that specific scenario

-I didn’t remember the blood spray after the beast is stabbed followed by the stab wound bleeding a good amount of blood. Are there other Disney princess movies with onscreen blood? I think in Mulan we see blood oozing out through clothes from an injury but that’s the only other one I can think of. Eugene gets pretty bloodlessly stabbed

-Best scene in the movie: The beast floats up in the air, actively transforms into a human in front of Belle, stands up, says “Belle, it’s me!” She then squints at him, touches his hair a bit, squints at his face, and when she recognizes his eyes she goes “It is you!” Ma’am what the hell else did you think was happening. If you didn’t recognize his eyes would you have just been like “Hmmm I dunno…”

-Ok so at the end there is an entire royal court watching them dance. Again I don’t want to be a CinemaSins I just want to see the missing scene. Like did he explain what happened to him? If yes then again I want to see that conversation of him explaining to his family how he was literally transformed into a literal beast for the last ten years and they had no idea this was happening to their family member. If no, imagine just going back to being a prince after 10 years as a beast and you just have to pretend like everything has been normal this whole time. I want a sequel that’s just the human beast reintegrating not only back into society but French royal society, which was notorious for having some of the most intricate and complicated social etiquette in all of Europe

-The final shot is a stained glass window of them with a prominent rose. Now in the original he had a whole rose garden he was very attached to, so that makes sense. But I feel like this beast specifically would have only negative connotations with roses and that window would probably be seen as a little tasteless given the circumstances. “It’s a rose! You know, the physical manifestation of a curse that was clearly quite upsetting for you for nine years and roughly 360 days, reminding you daily of your flaws! Isn’t that fun?”

“Original score by Alan Menken” Look up his IMDB, if you live in at least the US this man has written the score to your entire life

[sunnybunnyy2]

Two Wrongs Don’t Make A Right

Daryl Dixon x platonic!reader

Negan Smith x daughter!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.0k

TIME: season 7

Warnings: imprisonment, talk of rapists(briefly), talk of murder, mentions of Abe’s and Glenn’s deaths, arguments, mentions of saviours, mentions of what transpired in season six and seven, spoiler warning and bad writing.

CHAPTER 2 of the Dark Cell series

Series Masterlist Official Masterlist

This is long awaited! I'm sorry that this has taken so long but I have been making fanfics on Wattpad recently and if you are a fellow fanfic writer you understand how much unnecessary time it takes to come up with ideas and lines to make your character come to life. Thank you all for being so patient with me! Also, requests are open, and I will be redoing my master list, so look out for that. I have been influenced so yes, this is going to become a series so stay tuned! Now that I finished this part I have more motivation to actually write for this! I’d you want to be tagged in the series let me know! Thank you so much for reading<3

(if there is third person slip ups I’m sorry, I’m just so used to writing in third person :( )

The exchanges took place every night at around 1 a.m., and it had for the past seven days.

You would arrive carrying a plate or bowl of whatever leftover food you had managed to swipe from the kitchen or some dinner from the meals you would share with Negan. 

You had aimed to make the food before you went down so that it was still hot but it was risky as, there was a large chance that one of Negan's men would notice and alert your father, which would raise suspicion. 

The food consisted of Sandwiches, chicken, pasta, fish, soup and wraps. 

You wished you could do it more often, but you knew that it would largely increase the chances of you getting caught. 

You knew your punishment wouldn't be anywhere near how severe Daryl's would be. You also knew that as much as you pleaded your father would allow his pawns to have their fun in harming the long-haired man. You weren't quite sure why your father's men were so willing to starve and beat a man senseless to appear strong. Men and their egos you supposed. 

Your father could preach all he wanted about how he would do anything for his daughter, how he would move mountains to appease you. How he would kill anyone who dared to disrespect you (he had) but yet he couldn't try and be a better man. He couldn't put his rage and grieve the wicked world had caused him and help people instead of torturing broken people and turning people who wanted to survive into heartless killers. Turn them into him. 

You couldn't say you hated your father. You never could. But that certainly didn't mean you agreed with half the things he did. 

You could tell he cared what you thought of him. You were the last thing he had of your mother, but that didn't mean he listened to you when you expressed your opinion. 

You and your father were close before all of this happened, well before you found out about his affair. After that day you hated everything about him. Even when your mother got sick and he stood by her, did everything for her. You weren't sure if it was because of how guilty he felt for betraying her or because he loved her. 

Normally you would insist on it being the first but now she was at a loss. 

Since your mother's demise, your once childish but thoughtful father had turned into a power-hungry greedy man. At first you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was grieving and was trying to find a way to cope with the loss of the woman he loved but it was as though he was forgetting that his daughter had lost her mother.

He wanted to make you happy, so he gifted you the biggest room in the sanctuary and allowed you to purchase whatever you desired without working, though you often helped with the growing crops in the back of the sanctuary. Your father never really liked the idea of her around the fence but he backed down after a heated argument between you. He did send some of his men to keep an eye on you, he tried to be discreet but his men were less than. 

You always made sure to bring a large glass of tap water from your room down to his cell, wanting to at least make sure he didn't die of dehydration. 

You knew that his physical health wasn't as bad as it was before but you knew that his mental health was still declining. He had been locked in the tiny cell for weeks on end, the only sound filling his ears was the constant lyrics of the song 'East Street'. 

The bags under his eyes were proof enough of the lack of sleep he had been receiving. The way his eyes could barely focus on one thing when you would bring him his meals was another important factor in your conclusion. 

Since your visits had become more frequent he had uttered his name quietly into the comfortable silence that had filled the cell as he hastily inhaled what was in front of him. It was so quiet that you had barely heard him, but once you realized that it wasn't your imagination you smiled softly to yourself before muttering your name as well. 

In your mind, you were friends. You knew his name, he knew yours, you would bring him food, he would be thankful and you were both the highlight of each other's day. 

Daryl- because he wasn't rapidly dropping weight as he had been before from his lack of food, which in turn kept his brain running so he could coax his thoughts into coming up with a plan to escape his captivity. Plus your company wasn't so bad he reckoned.

You- because you got to meet another survivor from a rivalling group, you had heard your father angrily ranting to his soldiers about how this mysterious group had taken out one of his many posts and killed everyone in it. 

You were shocked at how brutal this group could be but you knew that your father could be even more heartless and it was proven when a week later whispers were passed along through the sanctuary that your father had partaken in another one of his lineups and had bashed in two members of Daryl's groups heads in with Lucille. 

You knew that Daryl's group had killed countless people, saviours but at least their families and friends didn't have to see it, as apparently the people from the outpost were killed while they slept. It was a very cowardly way to kill but it was better in a way, they didn't see it coming. 

You clutched the tray of food which consisted of a slice of ham from a pig the saviours had recently slaughtered as a way to celebrate the new community they had under their control, standing with the other few that they had taken over. With a side of carrots that you had picked herself to give him some energy. 

Then finally a generous helping of mashed potatoes to fill him up, as you knew that a small sandwich was going to get him through the day. Well, you guessed it was two, as Dwight had made sure to feed him a dog food sandwich every other day to keep him going. A dark pork gravy from the brand Bisto (clubhouse is better but whatever) that was covering a large portion of the potatoes. Your father did always say that you made it taste even better when you made it.

Your eyes peeked around the sharp corner to make sure Arat was on her way to her break that she always made sure to hide, always quick on her feet to head to her room to get several strong minutes of shut-eye. 

Your eyes caught sight of Arat quietly creeping her way further and further away from Daryl's new home. You waited a couple of minutes until you were sure she was in her room, possibly already captivated by sleep. You placed one foot in front of the other as you too, crept down the hallway, the fear of getting caught burning fear into her veins.

You balanced the tray on one hand as you reached into your left pocket, to pull out the cell key that you had stolen from Laura, well it wasn't quite stealing, she had dropped it and hadn't even noticed. You could still remember her confused face when she caught you on the ground after catching you mid-grab. You smiled at her and played it off as if you were tying your shoe, which she bought as she shot you a smile and continued on with her ranting. 

You turned the key clockwise into the rusting metal, smiling in satisfaction when the lock clicked quietly as a sign that it was now unlocked.

The creak that was loudly pulled from the door as it was opened left you cringing as you quickly shuffled into the room, closing the door until there was only a fragment of it for a little bit of light but it wasn't large enough to draw suspicion towards your meetings. 

You could already see Daryl gazing up at you as you pulled the door closed, before lowering yourself to the floor, holding your hands out as a sign for him to take the plate which he did. He had loosened up a large amount since you had started being him food a week ago. 

He was still stand-offish and didn't like to talk about his group which you didn't blame him for, you were with the enemy, you were his daughter. You weren't sure if he knew of your status at the sanctuary but if he did, it didn't come from you. It had already taken a great amount of effort to gain his trust and you wouldn't want it broken just because of who your father was. 

If he brought it up, you would talk to him about it, but for now, you didn't want to risk losing one of the only people that didn't just suck up to you because they wanted more points or because they were scared to face your father's wrath if they hurt your feelings. 

"Hey, sorry I was late, Arat took longer than usual to hit the deck." You quickly explained as expected the food in a curious glint in his eyes. "It's ham. Sorry, I didn't know if you liked it but they just killed a pig and me and my-... I had some for dinner earlier, it was good... and there's potatoes obviously, there's some cheese in them too with carrots and gravy." His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you in question just as he had been since you had almost slipped up. "Don't worry, it's not poisoned well... at least I hope it isn't because I ate the same thing but I guess we'll find out."

He let a harsh breath out of his nose that sounded similar to a laugh before he picked up the metal fork before shoving a large bite of potatoes in his mouth, a barely audible groan fell from his lips as he continued to inhale the food, not even bothering to use the knife that you had brought to cut the meat, opting to just pick it up with his hands. 

If it was anyone else you would find the wild eating disgusting, but you understood. He was being starved as a torture method to force him into submission. You had seen this countless times, but nearly all had caved within the first few days. It was shocking to you how strong he was. If it had been you... you weren't sure how long you could last if you were in the same position. 

From how wild he was eating you could only assume today wasn't the day he got fed from Dwight. 

You assumed you did well with the amount of food you had given him. 

You kept your eyes trained on the opened part of the door to make sure the coast was clear still. Normally this side of the sanctuary was almost always deserted, but since Daryl as been held here, you had noticed a lot of working people wanted to catch a glimpse of one of the Alexandrians who had killed numerous soldiers. You weren't sure if was from fear or awe. 

"Why are you doing this." He asked as he looked up from his half-eaten plate of food, to examine you while you spoke as if to see if you would lie to him. 

"I don't like how he's handing this. I mean... what your group did was wrong. Really wrong. But what he's doing to you isn't right. No one should have to deal with this. I mean other than rapists, pedophiles, or child killers. I mean murder is really bad but there are some ways to excuse it, like self-defence but I mean the worlds over. People kill each other every day to survive. Don't make it right but it makes sense. You did what you thought you had to, to 'save' your group." You ranted slightly as you looked down.

"So you're doing this because I deserve better?" Daryl asked with a quiet snort as though he couldn't fathom the thought of someone actually thinking he was a decent guy. 

"Everyone deserves better in some way. But no, some people just need a little help sometimes. You do, so I'm trying to help you." You said as watched him proceed with eating.

He looked up at you after he took yet another bite of his food. "I ain't need no help." He dismissed with a huff as he finished the last of his food.

"Obviously you do. Everybody does. You're no exception." You disagreed as he watched for any signs of Arat possibly returning earlier than usual.

"So why ya helping me? I'm sure the big man has more bitchs." He all but growled as he thought about your father causing your face to drop slightly as he kept your eyes away from him, in hopes of him not being able to see your full life story from just the shine in your eyes. Daryl looked like the type to be able to, you thought.

"He has some other... people in cells-" You were cut off by Daryl as he let out a dangerous scoff that should have had you scared. You were in a closed space with someone who wanted your father dead, I mean sure he didn't know that you and the man he hated most shared the same blood but it didn't matter. You were a Smith and that would never change. No matter how much you hoped and prayed that your father would suddenly turn a new leaf, it never seemed to happen. So at some point, you just saved your previously wasted breath. 

"Ya mean prisoners?" He spoke sharply, his words not a question but a statement, showcasing how enraged he truly was with her father. 

"Yeah...prisoners. There is some down here, yes. But they deserve it." You said while shaking your head as you thought about the awful people that were locked down here.

"Ain't nobody deserve this shit." He said with his whole chest as his eyes scanned your face with a mixture of hate and disgust at your words. You couldn't blame him though, he was locked in a cell and you had just said that the people locked in them deserved it. 

"They're awful people. Rapists, child killers, people who kill without reason-"

"I ain't no rapist and I ain't no child killers. Me and my people had every righ-"

"Nobody has a right to take someone's life. Who made us god? When did we get to choose who got to live and who got to die?" You argued as you furrowed your brows at the man's words.

"How bout' ya tell yer buddy that? He killed my friends." He raised his voice louder than necessary which earned him a dirty look from you as you peeked out of the sliver of the door that shined light into the cell and once you were sure no one was coming with guns raised you turned back to face him. 

"You killed dozens of his men while they were sleeping. You do realize that, right? I'm not saying what he did was right either, but you're lucky he didn't kill more of your people." You ranted slightly as you looked at him in confusion, he was so stuck in his own misery that he wasn't thinking about how other people were affected by his and his group's actions. 

"Lucky? He bashed my friend's heads in." He said angrily but it was quiet. As if trying to scare you into submission but you didn't back down.

"And I'm sorry for your friends. I really am. But you couldn't have thought that your group could get away with slaughtering- and it was a slaughtering,  his men and get away scot-free. You killed his soldiers. He takes that shit as a personal attack. So when I say I'm surprised he didn't kill more of you I mean it." 

"One of my friends' wives was pregnant' ya think she deserved ta see that? Now tha' kid's gonna grow up without a father."

"Of course not. That's awful and I'm so sorry...but some of the men and women you slaughtered had kids. Wives. Parents. They had people who loved them too. One of the men, Mike, had a pregnant wife at one of the other outposts. She was eight months and gave birth to her baby girl two days after he died. Alone. And a woman, Mel, just got married to the man she loved, they were trying for a baby... He killed himself last week. Hung himself in his room all alone." You paused for a moment to see if he was going to speak up but when he didn't, you continued.

"An-and a woman named Willow had a baby at another outpost. Now that baby has to grow up without a mother. Another man named Carlos was an only child and had to work for points to provide for his parents. They're old and can't do it themselves. Now they're barely eating and are so depressed that their health is deteriorating, we're not sure how long they have left. So I'm sorry that your friends lost people they cared about but you didn't just get your group hurt with your guy's actions. You guys ruined so many lives that night." 

You finished your rant as you shook your head, looking up at him only to see him looking down at his hands, his overgrown hair hung low to cover his eyes, masking his true reaction.

"I'm not trying to say that your friends' deaths don't matter but you can't just go around acting like you didn't kill people either. Like everyone else's pain doesn't matter to not feel guilty. But it does." You said quietly before deciding you had spent long enough in the stuffy cell. You reached over, grabbing the plate from in front of him before pulling yourself to your feet. You waited for him to speak again but he didn't bother and once you turned around he noticed that he hadn't moved from his place. 

"Good night." You shook your head before he pulled the creaky door open a little more so the gap was large enough to fit your body through, closing it until you felt the metal clank quietly against metal. 

You pulled out the key and shoved it into the lock, twisting it quickly before you heard quiet footsteps walking down the hallway from where Arat had left from. It seemed like you had left at the perfect time, you supposed.

You quietly but hastily quickened your pace until you were at the same corner you had looked over from around fifteen minutes prior. 

You watched as Arat ran a hand over her short black and bleached blonde hair as she let out a yawn, swaying on her feet slightly from the over-tiredness she was experiencing, which was probably in full swing by the shortness of her sleep. 

You let out a quiet sigh of relief before you quietly made your way in the direction of her room, the plate held tightly in your grasp as you walked past the mostly deserted sanctuary, sending a small smile to some of the saviours on watch duty. Most sent one back your way, while others seemed annoyed at the fact that they had duty at all, leaving them too aggravated to bother.

You were about to turn the handle of your door when you heard a voice stop you.

"Baby? What are you doin' up? It's late." Your father's voice stopped you in your tracks. A part of you wanted to run into your room and pretend that you had been sleepwalking but you knew your father knew you better than that and could almost always tell when you were fake sleeping. It was an odd talent if you were to be frank. So you turned around with a smile and spoke.

"I couldn't sleep. Decided to take a walk." You lied.

"With an empty plate of food?" He asked with raised eyebrows a sarcastic smirk on his face.

"...I got hungry on the way. Just heated up some leftovers from dinner. Didn't know that was a crime, Dad." You huffed in an attempt to sound believable.

"It's late. You could have woken me up. I would have walked with you." He said as he studied you. 

"Seriously, dad? Literal armed guards are crawling the place. I think I'm okay walking to the kitchen. Plus you barely sleep as it is." You rolled your eyes at his mindset.

"I always have time for you, hunny... so who's the boy? Or girl. I don't discriminate. Hell, ya could be in love with a goddamn pumpkin and I would still approve. Maybe a little weirded out but hey, we all have our kinks." He smirked but his nose scrunched up slightly as he realized he was talking to his daughter and not one of his henchmen. 

"Oh, wow, you figured it out. His name is Donteatmyseedsplease. I didn't want to keep it from you but I don't think you would approve. I'm so very glad I have your support, father dearest." You said in an overly happy voice even your eyes rolled with almost every word you spoke. You turned back to your door and turned ten knob, not going in as though to not give your father the opportunity to join you.

"You'll have to bring him over for dinner sometime we'll have squash." 

"That wasn't funny Dad." 

"Damn, you know how to wound a man's ego. Good girl, I taught you well." He said in a proud tone.

"I'm exhausted. Can we talk tomorrow? I wanted to talk to you about something actually..." You spoke as you pushed your door open even wider than it had been and started to make her way into your large room.

"That's never good." He groaned before he leaned over to land a kiss atop your head. "I'll see you tomorrow, baby. I'm busy but I always have time for you." He pulled away and sent a smile your way which you returned before closing the door and leaning against it. A sigh of relief left your lips as you realized you were in the clear.

TAG LIST: @cult-of-norman @book-place @ilovespiderpeople @kazunish @mysouleaten

(let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list for the future chapters!)

[livwritesstuff]

heyo! loving the steddie dads. was wondering if either of them suffer from nightmares or ptsd after everything they've been through? and how they might deal with that on a day-to-day/anniversary basis.

Hi friend -- took some time on this one because this is a Topic for me.

Short answer – yes, 100%. I don’t think any person on the planet could experience that kind of thing and not come out of it with some serious issues to work through. 

Longer answer, and not to abuse my psych degree, but it’s really tough to say how they would be affected 10, 20, 30, etc. years down the line because PTSD and trauma are both so unbelievably complex – for many reasons, but in part because PTSD can do two things (sort of) simultaneously.

Wane over time

Completely and permanently alter the “wires” (neural pathways) in your brain

I think that there’s sometimes this perception in the ST fandom that every character in the show who experienced a trauma would have PTSD by default, but that might not necessarily be true. Stats actually show that the majority of people who experience trauma in some capacity will in fact not display PTSD symptoms. I think Mike and Dustin at the onset of season 2 are a fantastic example of how two people can go through the same events together and come out of it affected very differently.

(Sidebar: I think Stranger Things has a fantastic opportunity to show how varied the effects of trauma can be. Granted, I don’t think that’s the story they’re telling, but they totally could.)

Experiencing a traumatic event is not necessarily a one-way ticket to PTSD symptoms and/or a PTSD diagnosis – to be clear, this doesn’t mean that there are not lasting negative effects from that traumatic event, but it is still distinctly different from PTSD (in its official definition) – and right now it’s not clear why this is the case. 

I have individual thoughts about each character as it relates to what they specifically experience and how I think they would be affected by it long and short-term, HOWEVER I also recognize that I haven’t answered your actual question, so I digress.

Rather than dive into whether or not I think Steve and/or Eddie have PTSD, we’re just gonna call it capital-T Trauma and move along. You’re welcome.

Anyways, by the time Steve and Eddie (as they exist in this ‘verse) are in their fifties, I doubt that any residual effects of their Trauma would still be anywhere near debilitating. Generally speaking, they can go about their day-to-day lives without thinking about what they went through all that much.

I do think that those effects may temporarily worsen around anniversaries, but even that really isn’t all that noticeable by the time they hit the 2020s.

They’ll still occasionally have nightmares and I don’t think Steve ever fully lets himself believe that it’s truly done in a way that Eddie doesn’t relate to because he never had to experience what it’s like for it all to come back.

(Small potatoes, but I also don’t think Steve could ever own a dog no matter how much his daughters campaigned for a puppy when they were in elementary school).

I think the Trauma that Steve experienced shows itself in his adulthood when it comes down to raising kids. 

I’ve talked before about how Steve has a moment when Moe turns ten where it kind of clicks for the first time just how young Erica had been when he allowed her to get caught up in everything. He hadn’t been able to see it until he was a fully-fledged adult raising a ten-year-old, but he gets really hung up on it, and then he spends the next few years being like – Moe’s eleven, that’s how old Eleven was when she broke out of the lab; she’s twelve, that’s how old Will was when he got stuck in the Upside Down; she’s thirteen, that’s how old Dustin was when he almost got eaten by demobats in those tunnels. 

Then the girls start hitting their high school years and Steve starts realizing – oh, it wasn’t just the younger ones. I was also a kid still and put in a really fucked up position. It’s the thing that makes him truly see how few adults he had in his corner.

Eddie has a similar moment when Moe graduates high school and he realizes that his oldest daughter is as old as Chrissy ever got to be.

That being said I also don’t think Eddie gets as torn up over Chrissy as the popular opinion suggests but i’m a little afraid to voice that one lol

I definitely think Eddie and Steve never let themselves forget how Max, Chrissy, Patrick, etc. were vulnerable to Vecna’s curse because of a very specific circumstance – they were grappling with something internally that they didn’t feel they had the resources or people they trusted enough to address outwardly. Sure, they know that their kids aren’t at risk of being possessed and murdered by an evil monster, but the notion of bad things happening when people don’t have the support that they need is a very real phenomenon with very real consequences. By no means was that exclusive to Hawkins and it certainly didn’t go away with the Upside Down. 

I think that this becomes the crux of Steve and Eddie’s mentality behind parenthood – to make sure that their kids never feel like they can’t go to their dads for support, to never allow their children to be in a position where they have to suffer in silence. That, to me, is absolutely rooted in the parts of their Trauma that re-wired their brains irreparably.

Anyhooooo this is really just the tip of the iceberg imo but this is long enough already lol (but if anyone wants to hear more about the Stranger Things-Trauma paradigm, let me know because I could probably talk about it for hours).

[dreamescapeswriting]

⪼Craving You ~ JJK [M]

⤜WORD COUNT:2.9 K

⤜PAIRING: Jungkook X Fem!Reader

⤜GENRE: SMUT Minors DNI !!! Strong language, dirty talk, pregnancy sex, pregnancy kink?, penetrative sex, sweet, cute, fluffy at the beginning, reader not being able to get enough of Jungkook.

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2022

⤜MASTERLIST

The smell of burning wafted through the bedroom door instantly waking you up in a blind panic as you rushed to sit up and look around to make sure everything was okay. There was no sign of black smoke anywhere so you were at least thankful for that but it still didn't answer the question as to what was burning. You were seconds away from getting yourself out of bed when you heard the familiar sound of your husband's voice. 

"Shh, we need to be quiet," Jungkook whispered rather loudly before the bedroom door opened, the smell of burning ultimately got worse but once you saw your daughter carrying a tray you knew exactly what had happened. Jungkook smiled sheepishly over at you when he noticed that you were already awake.

He'd been trying to get Daisy to be quiet all morning but it appeared that your daughter didn't understand volume control when it came to the early hours of the morning. When she'd first woken him up to come and help him make breakfast he was worried she was going to wake you up but was ecstatic when she hadn't. 

This was your second pregnancy and it was safe to say that sleep had been the one thing escaping you since hitting the 6-month mark. It appeared that your little boy - or girl - was moving around so much you weren't ever able to get comfortable enough to sleep for long. Jungkook was doing everything within his power to help you but it was damn near impossible. Even the pregnancy pillows weren't doing much to aid you.

"Mama!" Your daughter yelled, carefully making her way over to the bed and placing the tray down on the bedside table. You giggled looking down at the tray and back over at your daughter. Since she'd found out she was going to be a big sister she had begun to take care of you more around the house and begun speaking to your bump a lot.

Often at night when you were putting her to sleep she would read a story to your bump, which when she had first done this you'd balled your eyes out for almost an hour afterwards. It appeared your little girl was just like her father when it came to being a caring and compassionate person and you adored her for it all.

"Angel!" You yelled back, opening your arms wide for her and giggling as she got up onto the bed beside you, snuggling her head into your chest as she gently put her hand on your bump. 

"Daddy says you're not feeling very well so I made you some breakfast," Daisy said before kissing her hand and placing it on top of the bump quickly as a way of wishing a good morning to her younger sibling, the sight alone made your heart clench,

"We made you breakfast," Jungkook stated just to clear up the fact that he hadn't allowed your seven-year-old to make food all on her own in your kitchen. He was many things but he wasn't stupid enough to do something like that. 

"Okay, so who burnt the food?" You smirked looking at your husband who began to turn a bright red colour. He hadn't been the best chef in the whole world and while he was trying to make sure your daughter was cooking toast properly he'd forgotten about the pan on the stove. It smelt worse than it was and at least the house wasn't burning down to the ground. 

"It was a failed attempt at oatmeal, it ended up burning and sticking into the bottom of the pan," He shrugged his shoulders trying to play it off as if it was nothing. The last thing he needed right now was for you to get up and start worrying about something you didn't need to be. Jungkook simply wasn't going to tell you that the pan was completely trashed, he'd just buy a new one and pray you never notice.

"Oh my," You whined turning so your legs were off the bed and were about to get up but you felt a small hand on your wrist followed by a tiny squeeze from your daughter. She might not have understood everything that was going on but she knew that if you were sick you were supposed to rest.

It was what you made her do whenever she was sick and couldn't go to school so she was going to make sure you obeyed the same rules you set for her. 

"Don't worry, daddy said he's going to get it clean though," Daisy stated before covering your legs up with a blanket as soon as you put them back onto the mattress. Jungkook smirked to himself walking closer to the bed and nodding his head in agreement with Daisy.

"Oh yeah?" You quizzed looking from Daisy and up to your husband, thankful that the pan hadn't been completely unrecoverable.

"Yeah, he said he has a magical thing called a "wallet" that's going to get it fixed like it was brand new." It was sweet that Daisy had no idea what Jungkook had meant when he said that and you sniggered even more as you noticed Jungkook blushing at the mention of it. It was obvious that you weren't supposed to know that part of the conversation that they had earlier. 

"I'll fix everything, you just need to focus on resting," Jungkook scolded, kissing the top of your head as you felt tingles shoot up and down your body. There was no way he was going to let you get out of bed unless absolutely necessary today, he wanted you to be able to sleep soundly. Or even just catch up on a little sleep while he took care of the house and you with the help of Daisy.

"Sounds great, what did you make me baby?" You asked turning your attention to your daughter as she got more excited. Playing house was one of her favourite games - as well as playing nurse - and it appeared as though she was going to be doing both of those while you were resting today.

"Toast with chocolate and then we got you some cereal," Daisy explained so Jungkook carefully placed the tray onto your lap and poured the milk over your cereal while you thanked him. 

"You didn't have to do all of this," You gushed feeling yourself starting to get emotional over it all. It may have seemed simple from the outside looking in but having not just one, but two, people care for you this much was overwhelming to you. And the pregnancy hormones weren't exactly making this easier for you to deal with.

"Mama?" Daisy whined as you noticed tears beginning to roll down your cheeks, she panicked and looked to Jungkook for help she didn't think she'd done anything wrong.

"It's okay, mum's just a little emotional," Jungkook reassured her, rubbing Daisy's back as you began to eat the food while crying, tears running down your chin and falling onto the sheets below. It wasn't as though you meant to cry over something so small but you couldn't help it when every now and again it felt as though someone had turned the tap on in your eyes.

"How about we give her some space to eat? We can go downstairs and clean up before we go shopping." Jungkook offered as Daisy nodded, her eyes never moving from your face as she stared directly at you. You did your best to smile at her and prove that everything was okay,

"Go, Daddy needs to buy mum a new cooking pan," You giggled before kissing your daughter's cheek quickly and ushering her off the side of the bed. It would be good for her to get out of the house for a while and give you enough space to just sleep for most of the day - if you could drift off that was.

"I promise to buy you a better pan than the one we had," Jungkook said nervously before kissing your lips softly making you whimper a little. Another thing the pregnancy had done to you was made you needier than ever and you found yourself wanting Jungkook at every moment of the day. 

"I'll have a bath and try and sleep soon," You told him while going back to eating your food and watching him closely. Jungkook smirked to himself and nodded, slowly stripping out of his clothes so he could change into something else.

"This is torture and you know it," You wailed at him, your eyes not moving from his body as he tensed his muscles up to show off in front of you. Only hit soon stopped when you threw a pillow over in his direction and smirked at the groan he made,

"Go before I force you to stay here and fuck me." You teased him viciously.

The whole day had been non-stop cuddling from your daughter as well as endless snacks and drinks being bought into the bedroom by her. She told you it was because she knew the baby was hungry and she wanted her baby sister or brother to have everything that they wanted.

"You ready for sleep?" Jungkook asked as he walked into the bedroom, he'd just finished putting Daisy to bed and was quite ready to cuddle up to you all night long. Although he'd been there today he'd missed you terribly and had been dying to get you all to himself. 

It had occurred to you in the middle of the afternoon that you were desperate for one thing and one thing only and that was your husband.

"Not even close," You mumbled while staring over at him, your body heating up as he pulled off his shirt and got undressed ready to sleep.

"No? The baby still keeping- whoa," He whispered as you suddenly stood in front of him and began kissing down his jawline. It didn't take a genius to work out what it was that you were after right now and he smirked to himself at the idea of it. 

Pregnancy sex was hot to him but he never wanted to be the first one to instigate anything in case it would hurt you or the baby. He always wanted you to be the one to come to him.

"I'm craving something right now," You admitted while biting down on his ear lobe, smirking to yourself when you felt his body beginning to shiver,

"W-What...What is it that you're craving?" He whimpered, running his hands down your hips softly before rubbing his thumbs against your hips, his stomach doing backflips as he continued to hold you.

"I'm craving you," You sighed happily before kissing him desperately, lips moving in sync with one another as you pulled him closer to your body - well as close as you could get it with your pregnant belly in the way. 

You melted against him and he began to slowly walk you back toward the bed, his lips never leaving yours as you let out small whimpers of his name. This was everything you'd been missing for the last few months and you were going to be damned if you didn't get what you needed so desperately from him.

"I missed you," You breathed out as you pushed your hands into his hair and tugged a little on the long black strands, a groan falling from his throat as he stared at you.

"Fuck, I missed you too...Are you sure?" He wanted to be sure none of this was going to bother you or the baby but you'd never been so sure about anything else. This was what your body wanted and had wanted for quite some time now.

"I need you...The doctor said it was fine," You giggled before biting down and sucking on his neck, a loud and long moan falling from his lips.

"Now please, make love to me." You pleaded before he laid your body down to rest on the mattress, hovering about you as he kissed you tenderly. 

"I promise to be gentle, okay? You have to tell me if I hurt you or..o-or if you feel any pain," He told you before stripping you out of the shirt you were wearing and moaning at the sight of you.

You were always so unbelievably beautiful to him and he couldn't believe he actually got to call you his girl, his wife, and his future. 

"Is this okay?" Jungkook asked as he trailed his hand between your thighs and softly began to rub your clit. Moans instantly fell from your lips as you felt overly sensitive to his touch. 

"P-Perfect," You breathed out as you slowly began to roll your hips up to meet his touch. 

Jungkook and you had, had sex when you were pregnant with Daisy and he had just been as sweet to you then as he was now. Touching you gently and treating you as though you were a porcelain doll that he had to be delicate with. 

"Need more, I want you." You begged as you looked up at him, your eyes darkened with desire as you moaned his name out.

"You look so good," He moaned out as his fingers moved faster against your clit. Slowly slipping himself free of the jeans he was wearing and looking down at you as he lined himself up at your pussy. 

"You're sure?" It wasn't as though he didn't want to do this, fuck seeing you pregnant with his child inside of you turned him on more than anything in the world but he didn't want to hurt you. Or rush things if you weren't ready.

"Yes Jungkook, please...I-I'll beg if you need me too," You whined making his heart flutter at the thought of it all. But he said nothing as he slowly began to ease himself inside of you, letting you adjust to him as you let out a high-pitched gasp at the stretch of him. It had been far too long since the two of you had been intimate with one another and this was exactly what you needed right now. To be filled with him after almost five months of celibacy.

"Oh fuck," You moaned lowly as your nails dug into his back, Jungkook smirked down at you as he slowly began to move in and out of you. Your bodies rocked gently together as he kept his eyes on your tits and the way they moved, it was something that drove him wild when you were pregnant.

"So fucking hot, the way you clench around me like that," He moaned out as you began to clench around his cock with every thrust of his hips,

"You're so big," Your eyes met Jungkooks as he groaned loudly, leaning down and kissing you passionately. 

"I've needed you so badly," You whined out as you began to roll your hips up in time to meet his thrusts, your eyes screwing shut as you gave into the ecstasy of him. 

"You needed me to fuck you this badly? I can feel you clenching around me baby...Hmm? Have you been this anguished for me to fuck you so much you practically jumped me the second we were alone?" He asked while chuckling darkly, his hips speeding up as you clenched tighter around him, nodding frantically. 

"Fuck! Yes! Yes," You cried out as you began to get breathless. Damn the pregnancy leaving you more tired than usual.

"You're so fucking hot with my baby inside of you," Jungkook growled, his pace picking up suddenly as you dug your nails into the sheets around you and bought them toward your body. 

"The way your tits bounce with every single thrust," He moaned lowly before grabbing and squeezing your breasts roughly, 

"You're just so hot," He groaned as he continued to admire your breasts, thrusting just a little harder for the satisfaction of seeing them bounce around. If it was up to him he would knock you up more just to see how much more beautiful you would get whilst carrying his child.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!!" You whined out as he hit your g-spot with ease over and over again, your hands were seconds away from ripping holes into the sheets below you but neither of you cared about that right now.

"You're going to cum for me?" He smirked with a slight growl in his voice, his grip on your hips tightening as he began to hit into you with precision each time that was enough to make your head spin. There was a familiar pressure building up inside of you and before you could warn him what was about to happen it hit you like a wave,

"S-Shit! Shit, J-Junkook! Jungkook!" You moaned out in a warning way as you suddenly came around him, a gushing coming from between your legs as you cried his name out over and over again.

"O-Oh fuck that's hot," He moaned out as he pulled out of you quickly and began to pump himself in his hand. Staring down into your eyes as he emptied himself onto your swollen belly and tits grunting your name out lowly as you let out a small giggle at the sight of him coming undone like that above you. It only further made you want him all over again, you were never going to get enough of him.

"A-Again?" You asked while rolling your hips up to grind against his oversensitive cock,

"Again?" He quizzed, his voice cracking a little at the idea of doing that all over again with you but he smirked, kissing you hungrily as he grew against you. 

Tagline: @exactlygreatcoffee @chiisaiblog @rjdy-367 @rjsmochii @tinyoonsblog @sw33tnight @taestannie @sstarryoong @cherrybubblesandvodka @army24--7 @acciocriativity @mitzwinchester @heyjiminnie @kimahnjung98​ @halesandy​ @jin-from-the-block​ @aerastus​ @namjooningelsewhere​ @psychosupernatural​ @afternoonteabiscuit​ @heeseunger24​ @laylasbunbunny​ @jeonsorchid​

[aftgficrec]

Some fic with andreil kids, i need that to survive

Our most recent ask for this has all of our previous recs. Enjoy! -A

latest ask:

Andreil & kids here

Kevin and his dads by Monsterputt03 [Not Rated, 646 Words, Complete, 2023]

Kevin's life with Andreil as his parents. 

Want by TheBreadWinner [Rated G, 19938 Words, Incomplete, Updated May 2024]

Andrew and Neil are finally in a position without worries. They have a nice home, money, and dream jobs. What more could they want? Their closest friends and family are raising kids and experiencing something Andrew never pictured wanting. Now, in his thirties, he sees families everywhere: in the stands during games, at the park during his runs with Neil, and in the lobby of New York Presbyterian. Andrew knows what he wants, and he wants it with Neil.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse and neglect, tw: implied/referenced torture

you got the heart without the ache. by PatientIsTheNight [Rated G, 2483 Words, Complete, 2024]

[Andrew] cannot kill every abuser in the world, though it would be nice. More importantly, he knows that he cannot allow himself to be visibly angry, or upset - it would give the wrong idea. He isn’t angry at Kylie, after all, and refuses to give her even half of an inkling of that idea. But he is still angry, in the way a wounded animal is. It takes more than he thought it would to keep himself from hiding in corners and lashing out. - Andrew and Neil foster their first kid, and face how hard it is. It’s a kidfic, you know what you’re getting.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Whose Your Daddy Series by chaoticas_hell [Not Rated, Collection, Incomplete, Updated June 2024]

Part 1: Whose Your Daddy [47865 Words, Complete] Andrew Joseph Minyard didn't do regrets. But letting Neil in, allowing himself to want, for letting Neil slip through his fingertips- it was the closest he would get to feeling regret. It had been fourteen years since he last saw Neil, since Neil was taken right from under his grasp by his psycho-killer father and lost forever and Andrew had to make peace with that, had to stop expecting Neil to walk through his front door like he had never left. Except, one day, it all but happened. One day, a small kid with horribly cut short platinum blonde hair, striking blue eyes that plagued Andrew's dreams and nightmares, freckles and an achingly familiar horrible fashion sense showed up at his office door with the strangest question. "Are you Andrew Joseph Minyard, yes or no?" The kid asked in a British accent. Andrew could only nod. "Oh good." The kid said, suddenly unsure of themself. "Cause I think you're my dad." What the fuck?

tw: assumed major character death, tw: implied/referenced torture

Part 2: The Before [11385 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2024] basically a sequel to my fic Whose Your Daddy taking a look at how Neil dealt with single parenthood, how Andrew faired after Neil's faked death, Jo's abysmal childhood, and judgmental family members

tw: assumed major character death, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: violence, tw: choking, tw: unplanned pregnancy, tw: transphobia, tw: gender dysphoria 

Fragments of Light series by DarkD [Rated G/T, Collection, 2 complete works, Updated Jan 2023]

Part 1: Baby mine [T, 18609 Words, Complete, 2022] Andrew could practically see the image of Neil sleeping on his chest, one of the pairs of shoes he'd bought still lying there in bed with them. Neil looked so peaceful, Andrew couldn't stop looking at him. His hand was right on Neil's belly, he could almost imagine what the girls' heartbeats were like there. Neil had sung a song that night, and Andrew memorized every note because, someday, he would also sing that same song for Neil and his daughters. (They couldn't) be more wanted, they've probably never wanted anything more in their life. “You won't touch any of them again.” Andrew said. His voice was low and his throat hurt. “You're not getting anywhere near my fucking family.”

tw: gun violence, tw: attempted murder, tw: major character injury, tw: blood, tw: unplanned pregnancy, tw: transphobia, tw: self harm, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: destructive thoughts, tw: vomit

Part 2: My dear Nebula [G, 10086 Words, Complete, 2023] “Andrew, Andrew.” Neil whispered in his ear, the warm air against his skin making him shiver. “It's time for our nebula.” ... Neil then asked what a nebula was and he replied: Nebulae were nurseries for stars. Birth of stars. Birth… “Fuck”

tw: unplanned pregnancy, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced murder

Retired by IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos [Rated G, 1855 Words, Complete, AFTG Summer Exchange 2022]

Neil turned 35 two months ago and was finally ready to retire. A vacay will be just the right thing for his restless mind.

Neil Loves Dinosaurs series by infernalstars [Rated G/T, 32616 words, 17 Complete Works, Updated 2020]

Part 1 recced here

Part 4: Asking For Help [1501 Words] In which Kevin Day has to shift his perspective on things and he seeks out Neil for help.

tw: ableism, tw: implied/referenced abuse

Part 5: Babysitting and the Conditions of Love [1492 Words] Neil and Andrew babysit for Matt and Dan

tw: transphobia, tw: self harm

Part 6: To Live in Peace [908 Words] Meet Henry!

tw: homophobia, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Part 7: Nightmare [2149 Words] Andrew bonds with his foster kid. 

tw: graphic nightmares, tw: implied/referenced murder

Part 8: Family [1491 Words] Henry comes home to Neil having a breakdown.

tw: homophobia, tw: ableism

Part 9: Again (Family pt. 2) [2034 Words] in which Neil has a chance to bond with his kid

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: nonconsensual kissing

Part 10: Again (Family pt. 3) [1604 Words] The Resolution

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced nonconsensual kissing, tw: implied/referenced nonconsensual drug use

Part 11: Ruby Red [1910 Words] Adopting one kid was always apart of the plan, but another kid...? Unplanned.

Part 12: Second Chances [3329 Words] in which Neil tells Ruby how him and Andrew met

Part 13: Roses and Thorns [1943 Words] Andrew is happy ft. some twinyards, catching up with Kevin and his daughter and a lil snippet of Liam!!

tw: implied/referenced self harm

Part 14: Something Real [3140 Words] How Andrew finds out Neil's Autistic. 

tw: nonconsensual drug use, tw: nonconsensual kissing, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Part 15: Conditions of Love [2104 Words] A mini series that explores Liam Wilds (Matt and Dans kid), his life and his relationship with Henry Josten-Minyard.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: transphobia

Part 16: Anniversary [1180 Words]  The anniversary of the death of Neil's mom brings up some unpleasant memories and Andrew bring him to the museum to comfort him.

The Josten-Twinyards hc by @detectivebambam [Tumblr, 2024]

Andreil daughter and the word “please” by @starrycassi [Tumblr fic, 2024]

the monsters having kids with cool uncles andreil hc by @the-inner-musings-of-a-worm [Tumblr, 2024]

Miles Minyard-Josten age 7 fandom fun post by @andrews-jort-loving-pipe-dream [Tumblr, 2020]

Art

Minyard-Josten siblings also here art by @allfortheslay25

Nicky meeting Asher Minyard-Josten comic by @riceballannie

Andreil with Michael art by @dshr-art, hc here

fanart by @bluetheking for ‘Noah Minyard-Josten,’ fic recced here

[marvelcriminalhoe]

His Sinful Devotion

Part 6

Older! Dark! Church guy! Steve Rogers x Innocent! Naive! Preachers daughter! Reader

Warnings: Age gap (Reader is 20 Steve is late 30s early 40s), Dark, manipulation, blow job, daddy kink, face fucking, chocking, deep throating, tears, Steve is hardcore manipulative (I’m serious), reader is hardcore innocent, innocent kink, praise kink. Possessive kink. 18+ ONLY I think that’s all? Idk let me know if I’m missing something.

AN: I finally got my account to work! I'm so happy I can get this out now!! anyway here it is. I'm really excited for the part after this one, which will be the moment we've all been waiting for ;) until then, enjoy this :))

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1,675

Steve hadn’t felt this nervous in awhile. He knew everything had to be perfect, he wouldn’t settle for less. 

After the week at camp, getting to spend every night with you in his arms, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. Having to go back to sleeping alone was the worst and Steve didn’t want to do it anymore, not when he knows what it’s like to sleep next to you now. He didn’t think it could get any better. 

He’s also tired of holding himself back, he wants you. Wants to ravish you. He wants to allow himself to completely take you as hard and rough as he wants without this worry. He used to think he had amazing self control until you came into his life, and now he’s tired of holding himself back. He deserves you. You were made to be his perfect, innocent, beautiful wife, and he was tired of not having all of you, all of the time. 

He’s also exhausted of playing this small town gentleman roll. The nice church guy act is draining, and the moment he has you completely in his clutches, a ring on your hand, your body claimed by his, the faster he can move out of this small town, somewhere new, and can just live without some type of mask on. 

Bucky is close behind him, making leeway with his own girl, and both men are just ready to retire, ready to have that white picket fence, perfect dotting wife, and a couple of kids. The perfect life they’ve always dreamed of having. 

And it will all start with you. 

And it will all start tonight. 

Steve will make sure it’s perfect. You deserve perfect. He loves you, truly. He’s utterly obsessed with you, would stop the world from spinning if you asked him to. He wants everything to be perfect, not because he’s afraid you’ll say no. 

He knows you wouldn’t deny him anything. 

But because he wants to give you the stars. Wants to give you a memory you’ll look back in fondly every time you’re asked to recall it. 

Your parents were thrilled when Steve asked for your hand. He didn’t think he really needed too, he’s played the game well enough to know you’re attached to him, to his will and permission, not your parents. But he still has to wear the mask for a little while longer. 

Just until he has you completely. 

Steve planned everything and knew it would turn out immaculate, until fucking Sharon opened her mouth. 

“Don’t you think this is all a little much?” 

Steve’s patience is wearing thin, mostly because he’s so sexually frustrated. Even with getting to explore and touch your body, he hasn’t been able to have it all, to bury his cock balls deep into your into your untouched cunt like he so desperately needs to. 

Your mother, being the pastor wife she is, insisted to Steve that the church women would help him prepare and set up everything. Her heart was in the right place he supposes, but having Sharon anywhere near him, especially after that mean girl stunt she pulled at the camp, makes his already waring patience, disappear completely. 

“No.” Steve has to physically make his jaw unclench, reminding himself now is not the time to lash out, when other ears are around, “This isn’t even close to being enough, actually. But I need to save something for the wedding and honeymoon.” 

The other women coo we him, admiring his love for you and wanting to do such romantic gestures, but the scowl on Sharon’s face only depends, and Steve knows he’s going to have to do something extreme soon to make sure she doesn’t ruin anything for you when it comes to the big day. 

He won’t allow anyone to ruin you. Only he’s allowed to do that. 

“I think it’s beautiful, Steve.” Your mom pipes up as everyone looks at the set up around the lake. There flower petals lining the ground all the way to the end of the dock, white roses along the railings. Fairy lights align the wall way from the dock to the cabin door. And inside the cabin, is a beautiful diner set up, set for two. Steve picked up the steak dinner from his favorite restaurant before he arrived here to make sure everything was set up exactly as he asked for it to be. 

Steve smiles, “Thank you.” Looking at all the women, “And thank you for helping set everything up.” 

“Of course. We are so happy you’re going to be apart of the family soon.” Your mother pats his shoulder. 

Steve nods, not bothering in telling her he plans on stealing you away from here the moment you say ‘I do’. Theres no need, and even if she knew and wanted to stop it, Steve knows she wouldn’t be able to. 

You became his the moment he laid eyes on you. 

He doesn’t feel nervous as he picks you up from your house, doesn’t feel nervous as you ask him where you’re going for date night, he doesn’t even feel nervous when he finally pulls up to the front of the cabin, perfect timing, the sun starting to set over the water as he leads you down the path of rose petals. 

Your heart starts beating a little faster, knowing something was up the moment Steve answered your questions with a cog smirk or wink. Of course, you could be wrong, Steve is extremely romantic, but the whispers around church revolving your relationship have been growing louder and louder since camp, wedding bells being faintly heard in the air. 

It’s something you’ve been thinking about more of as well. If the courtship you and steve have is meant to grow into a marriage. Everyone says it is, says he’s perfect, and he has been nothing but perfect for you. You’ve never experienced a relationship, never experienced anything other than Steve. And even if there was a part of you that was unsure, a part that was scared of a forever type of ending with him, you would ignore it. 

Steve is perfect. He is everything to you. He listens to you. Talks to you. He adores you. 

And you adore him. 

Which is why the yes slips through your lips before your mind even fully registers the question. 

You would say yes to anything he asked of you. 

Which is also why you say yes when Steve asks if you could do him a favor. He’s been so stressed out with planning everything for you, it’s only right you help him. He loves when you help destress him and you love that you get to repay him for everything he does for you. 

So you sit on your knees, just as Steve’s taught you to do, as he stands in front of you, softly caressing your face. You watch as he unbuckles his belt, pulling his slacks down to reveal his hardening cock. 

You take it in your hands, warm and throbbing, just as he’s taught you, moving it up and down as you add small kitten licks. 

Once it’s wet enough, you kiss the tip, before wrapping your lips around him, sucking the sweet and tangy precum into your mouth, just as he’s taught you, Steve groaning heavily above you. 

You remember to look up at him, trying to keep your eyes open as he looks down at you, he’s taught you that he likes it like that, likes watching you, as Steve slowly starts to thrust into your mouth, hands on the side of your head as he goes deeper and deeper down your throat. 

The moans Steve let’s out send tingles down your spine, shock waves to course through your body. Steve is an Adonis of a man, a Greek god sculpted into perfection. He’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on, and you can’t believe you get such a reaction from him. 

Trying to keep your eyes open as his thrusts grow deeper is hard, his hands move from your cheeks to the back of your head, tangling into your hair, pulling and pushing. Your eyes fill with tears, begging to roll down your cheeks as you gag on the girth of Steve’s cock.

“So good. Such a good girl for me.” Steve rasps out, his voice straining from the feel of your throat constricting around him as he fucks it. He knows he should slow down, not be so rough. Your delicate, an angel, someone that needs to be treated with care and love. 

But Steve is pent up from not having you completely, he has to release it somehow before he blows up completely. That, with the knowledge that soon he will get all of you, own all of you, pushes him over the edge, making him fuck your face harder and faster, not caring when your gags get mixed with chocks, or when your tears spill over completely. Not caring that your hair that was done so nicely done for the night, is tangled in his fingers. Not caring when your hands are on his thighs, nails digging into his skin, as he forced your throat to take all of him, over and over. 

“You’re mine, right baby? All mine.” He tells you, not stopping his assault as he feels himself get closer and closer to the edge, “Forever mine. Fucking mine.” 

He comes down your throat with a growl and hard thrust, keeping your head pushed down on him as you try and swallow all of his cum around his cock. When he finally lets you up, he wipes your tears as you catch your breath. Kneeling down so he’s the same height as you. 

Steve kisses your forehead, grabbing your hand with the beautiful diamond on it, softly caressing his thumb over it, “I’ll love you forever.” He promises, “I can’t wait until your Mrs.Rogers.” 

And you believe him. You’ll always believe him. 

Just like he’s taught you to do. 

***********

TagList: @mansaaay @sofi1sstuff @sidechrisporn @namelesssav @spencerreidsthings @withasideofmeg @sidechrisporn @dontbescaredtosingalong @katiebby04 @emberenchanted @1-800-punch-a-pimp @siriusjohnpotter @evanswife1918 @jarofdirt04 @jaspearl31 @buckybarnesandmarvel @miiikkeey @wandalovesvision7 @kellhems @beenicejoy

[wintersbitterfly]

in her eyes | episode three

genre: fluff and angst

pairing: sana x female reader

scenario: highschool!au

content warnings: reader is a teen mom, slight harassment, gaslighting

the table was silent as you and dae-jong continue to look at each other, except yours were just filled with anger at this point than fear from what you had felt earlier.

“do you mind if I talk to you,” he pauses as he looks at sana, mina, dahyun, and momo then back at you, “alone?”

“I have nothing to talk to you about.” you sternly say.

“oh, but I think you do.” he says with a chuckle. you roll your eyes with a frustrated sigh before feeling a hand on top of yours.

you look up seeing it’s sana with worried eyes. you give her a reassuring smile before turning back to dae-jong.

“fine,” you get up walking with him outside of the cafeteria so you can both have some privacy.

“what do you want?” you ask.

“when we’re you going to tell me you had our child?”

you nearly cut him off, “my child. she’s my child.”

“doesn’t work like that. I got you pregnant.” he says with a smirk that you really want to punch off his face.

“she doesn’t even know who you are. and I intend to keep it that way until she’s older, but I’m still sure as hell she’ll want nothing to do with you.” you explain with gritted teeth.

his expression changes from cocky to angry in the matter of a second.

“you can’t keep me from her, y/n. I have rights as her father.”

you scoff, then chuckle at how stupid he was.

“last time I checked, my name is the only one on the birth certificate, yours is not. so no, you have no rights to her whatsoever except for me. so, as my right to my daughter, you will not see her until I think it’s appropriate.” you explain making him even more angry.

“you think she won’t be asking about who her father is?”

“Oh wow! now you want to start using that title towards her after four fucking years! how fucking ridiculous. you’re ridiculous. you’re not fit to be a father, much less a good boyfriend. which is why I left in the first place.”

your anger was taking over at the thought of this man wanting to see your daughter. you would never let him step foot towards her. you didn’t care if he promised anything and everything to you, you didn’t feel safe with him anywhere near her.

“like you’re so fit to be a mother? 14 and pregnant?”

“and? I’ve taken the responsibility of being a mother all on my own! and I did it all. you were fourteen and an immature asshole, and still are, so you can guarantee I wasn’t going to let someone like you help raise my daughter.”

you saw his fists balled up at his sides. but you weren’t scared of him, not right now at least. you were in a public school, and as one of the star athletes of the school, he could jeopardize his entire career.

without another word, you walked away from him back into the cafeteria where sana was rushing to the door where she saw you.

“are you okay? I was getting worried.” her eyes scan you.

“yes, I’m okay. I promise.”

sana nods slowly trying to convince herself before she leads you back over to the table you were sitting at before.

the three girls look at you with worried faces.

“are you alright? you seemed like you didn’t want to talk to him.” mina asks.

you nod, “yes, guys, don’t worry about me. I can handle myself.”

the girls nod as they continue on with conversations from before, but you didn’t notice how sana was glaring at dae-jong as he was walking back through the cafeteria, and he as well was glaring back at the girl.

“y/n? I hope it’s not too much of a bother, and you can most definitely say no but, could we possibly see pictures?” dahyun asks with curiosity written all over her face.

you were surprised to hear this, immediately knowing what she meant.

you’ve always kept your daughter private, besides people knowing she exists, you don’t allow much people to see her face unless it’s her daycare teachers, and family.

but you trust sana, so you feel you can trust these girls.

“yes, but not here, too many people.” you say in a slight whisper.

“off to the cherry tree it is!”

once you all made it to the infamous cherry blossom tree where it has history of many many years ago, you all sat down on the grass where you were shuffling around in your bag and pulling out a plethora of photos that were all held together by a rubber band.

you swear you’ll find a case for all these later.

once you took the rubber band off, you look up seeing three girls who are were sitting so eager to see.

you let the girls go through each photo excitedly.

“oh my god! she’s so cute and tiny!” mina squeals.

“her two front teeth!” dahyun smiles.

“she looks just like you,” momo compliments as she flips through photos.

“thank you,” you chuckle.

sana’s silence didn’t go unnoticed by you, in fact, it surprised you when you looked over at her beside you.

she was so infatuated with these older photos of you.

ones where you were holding your baby, even when you were pregnant with her, beside your aunt jihyo.

sana was taken back at how all these photos could practically tell your whole life story.

one photo that nearly brought her to tears was when you first held your daughter in the hospital bed. you held her so close, lips to her forehead, a heart warming smile on your face.

“are you okay, sana?” you ask the girl who snapped out from her gaze, looking at your with a chuckle, watery eyes.

“i’m okay. i just got caught up looking at this photo of you,” she confesses while she holds her head back to catch any tears that may fall.

you give her a small smile before looking at the other girls who were so caught up in laughter and adoring your pictures of your little girl.

it made you think about memories.

some that weren’t all too good, either.

one photo in particular you saw, and you just went into a daze.

“i’m not staying here anymore.” you state as you walk down the stairs of dae-jong’s house.

a furious dae-jong follows behind you, “oh really? you’re just gonna run away again? you always do this!”

“i’m not dealing with it anymore! all you and your parents ever do is gaslight and belittle me about how i would be as a parent when you aren’t showing the responsibility to even be one! and i’m sure as hell not letting my baby live here with you!”

“you are so dramatic. my parents and i know what’s best for you. considering that we took you in after your parents kicked you out, you should be fucking grateful we even did! but you’re just an ungrateful bitch!” he screams as you exit through the front door of his house.

you stop at the last step before turning around to him, “i get that you’re not ecstatic about this baby. hell, i’m not even with the fucking time being. but babies happen when you have sex, alright? you and i took part of that. so if you want to continue being like this, i will gladly raise this baby by myself, because that’s what a decent parent does.”

“y/n-ah? are you alright?” you hear dahyun softly ask.

you shake your head snapping from your thoughts before turning your head to dahyun.

“i’m okay,” you pause before grabbing the photo of you and daejong and ripping it apart in front of them.

“i should’ve gotten rid of this photo a long time ago.” you sigh staring at the ripped pieces of paper.

“so, what was it like?” sana asks you as you both walk your way down the street to your daughter’s daycare.

“what was what like?” you ask in confusion.

“being pregnant? and having her.” she asks once more.

you let out a soft chuckle remembering it all like it was yesterday.

“well, dae-jong was out of the question to begin with. so, i went to go stay with my aunt and she willingly took me in. i will just say, pregnancy is not all sunshine and rainbows. it’s an obvious for all women, but being a teenager and going through it is so terrible. even the epidural didn’t help much.” you ramble.

sana giggles listening to your life story, being very attentive. ever since she’s met you and your little girl, she’s been intrigued and interested in you since then.

“but, i’ll just say i’m thankful i had my aunt by my side. otherwise i don’t know where i would’ve gone.” you finish.

“that sounds like a lot to bare, y/n. it’s really strong of you. it’s what make you so interesting and intriguing.” she says making your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“o-oh.” you shyly smile.

sana smiles before looking up seeing you’re close to the daycare.

“am i allowed to see her again?” she asks with a grin.

you found your heart pounding before giving a nod, “sure.”

[eevylynn]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @violetfairydust and @endwersed like 2 weeks ago, but I had a lot of art due, so my writing wips were the last thing on my mind, lol

This is from a wholesome little unnamed one shot that I've been working on with a meet cute between Single Parent!Stiles and Single Parent!Derek at the park.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

This summer was going to be a rough one, Stiles could tell already.

It was the first week of summer break, and it just so happened to fall on Stiles’ week with his daughter.

Planning for a day at the park as a parent never failed to surprise Stiles in how complicated it was. As a kid, he never would have guessed how much went into it.

Packing everything into his folding wagon, he went through his mental checklist: towel, change of clothes, water bottles, lunch, popsicles, sunscreen, and a folding chair (because he’d long since learned the hard way that most parks simply don’t have enough benches).

“I want to pull the wagon, daddy!” Emma insisted in that adorable little voice of hers.

“I think it might be a little heavy. How about we pull it together?” Stiles suggested.

She happily replied, “Okay, daddy!”

Together, they pulled the wagon across the parking lot and towards the playground.

To beat the heat, Stiles figured he’d bring Emma to the new park that had just been built while he was gone. They had demolished the creepy, abandoned building Beacon Hills claimed as a community center and the rickety playground equipment Stiles used to risk his life playing on when he was a kid. In its place was a large, colorful playground themed around the preserve’s wilderness with the different sized play structures making the playground as a whole look like a fun version of Robinson Crusoe’s campsite, complete with fake logs and tree stumps fashioned into a balancing obstacle course and statues of cute woodland creatures for the kids to climb on. The whole area was on that nice springy rubber base that many kids’ playgrounds seemed to have now.

Right next to it was an open splash pad that allowed kids to run between the two as they wished. It was just large enough to not feel cramped with all of the kids playing, but small enough that Stiles could sit anywhere around it and not feel like he’s a world away from her if she’s on the other side of the splash pad.

Between the two, creating a nice triangle of active play areas, was a large, old tree with a huge, handicapped accessible treehouse with a maze of zig zagging ramps the kids loved to race up and down on. Near the top, was a hammock between several large limbs created from industrial strength cables and ropes.

Today, however, the path they would normally use to get directly to the splash pad was blocked by a brightly colored mobile library.

“Daddy, can we get a book?” Emma asked, letting go of the wagon and running in front of Stiles to excitedly jump up and down while pointing.

“Em, didn’t you just get some books from the library last week?” He said patiently. “Your mom said you even packed them in your bag to bring to my house.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t this library!” she replied with the most dramatic eye roll. “This is in a bus!”

Looking at the mobile library, Beacon County Library logo printed on its side in a bright blue, Stiles thought back to when he was a kid and how he would have felt about it before giving an answer. Being honest with himself, Stiles acknowledged that this would have been the greatest thing ever when he was little, too.

“Fine,” Stiles conceded with a sigh. “We’ll go after we find a spot for our stuff, but I’m only agreeing to ONE book for you. One!” he reiterated with a finger up to nail his point down.

Emma cheered.

He shook his head and smiled at her before turning to pull the wagon between the playground structures to take the slightly longer way to the splash pad.

Stiles had thought that showing up to the park around ten in the morning was a great idea, and that it wouldn’t be packed, that there wouldn’t be as many people.

He was wrong.

Every single bench in the shade was occupied. There were half a dozen different colored umbrellas lining the edge of the splash pad, and Stiles was hoping to get a seat at one of the benches with a view of the playground and treehouse as well, so he could have a set spot for all of their belongings while Emma played.

Well, at least Stiles was in the habit of bringing his chair as a just in case.

He looked around for a spot of shade he could sneak into. Unfortunately, at this time of day, the treehouse tree did not leave shade on the splash pad side of it. If he set up in its current shady spot, Stiles would only be able to see part of the playground and almost none of the splash pad.

That’s no good.

Maybe Stiles could set up near one of the umbrellas, close enough for his chair and the cooler to be under the shade, but not all up in someone else’s business.

Most of the umbrellas seemed to have a whole group of people’s worth of stuff. Multiple parents huddled under the bench with several bags spread on the ground around them.

Except one.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Low pressure tagging: @renmackree, @dear-massacre, @hedwig221b, @triskhellion, and anyone else that wants to

[moldygreenblue]

Want To Be Anywhere But Here

(Day two prompt for Woevember, event, created by @asouefanworkevent)

Father and Mother told her that being a Baudelaire is something to be proud of. They told her this as they were walking to the grand front door of the mansion, when the sun was setting for the day. Father was holding her right hand, while Mother was holding her left hand.

“Don’t tell me what I can do.”

“I’m not telling you what to do. I’m telling you what not to do. Francisca, we been married for seven years now. Seven years since you became a Baudelaire. And you know by now that we don’t associate with those Anwhistles. They not only tarnished the name you once belonged too, but knowing what Seachnall did—”

“I know what my uncle did, Clovis. I wasn’t that young when the incident happened. But you truly wanted me to leave Gale and Belladonna in their condition? How cruel can you be?”

Mother and Father told her as one of the oldest families in the organization, there is much respect and recognition to being a Baudelaire. They told her this in the backyard, when the flowers and bushes were in bloom, and the grass and trees were green. Mother was sitting on the metal bench taking photographs, while Father was standing near the marble water fountain.

“It’s not cruel to allow those who ended up their position the way that they are.”

“And their positions were nearly being dead! What happened to them has nothing to do with Seachnall’s decision!”

“No, it’s not. But that doesn’t mean that you had to stay with them! You could have left after calling the ambulance, but you stayed to help minimize their wounds! You stayed with them, and failed to pick Beatrice up from school! You don’t know how scared I was when I got the call!”

Father told her that being a Baudelaire means having connections others lack. He told her this one early morning in the mansion’s large, cozy kitchen together. Father was preparing a hot coffee for himself, and herself a hot chocolate with cinnamon sprinkled over the whipped cream.

“Oh yes. I know about your fright. You had such a fright, it had you deciding to not physically pick up our daughter from school, but to send our butler in your place instead!”

“Says the one who sent our head housekeeper to pick our daughter up from her singing classes from G.P. Martellato last week.”

Mother told her that a Baudelaire has opportunities many people can never gain. She told her this in the mansion’s library, as they sat on the comfortable, plush sofa together. Mother was helping her read aloud an easy reader adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, for some words were difficult for a seven-year-old to pronounce.

“You want to play the blame game, Clovis? Fine. Then let me count the ways you failed as a father to Beatrice!”

“And the pot meets the kettle! You have failures too!”

Mother and Father told her plenty of times that to be a Baudelaire, is to feel love in their name.

But as Beatice pulls back her hand from her parent’s door, she feels anything but love. Hearing her parents arguing once again…

Beatrice fights back the tears she wants to cry out as she walks down the spacious hallway back to her bedroom. She wants to cry so badly though. Mr. and Mrs. Benvolio told her that it’s natural for people to cry. It helps one feels better.

Beatrice wants to cry, but not when it’s possible for them to see her. If Mr. or Mrs. Benvolio see her cry, they will with all good intentions, tell one of her parents. And Father and Mother will find another excuse to argue for even longer, passing the blame on who hurt their child.

Beatrice as such, will wait to cry until she’s by herself. If there’s something Beatrice knows about being a Baudelaire, is that she too, should keep up the performance.

[dyrewrites]

Did I share these dumb things yet

They are dialogue fun-times for a thing I'm not writing yet, called Bloodhound (at the moment). It is a detective story starring a 345 year old vampire and his 16 year old adoptive werewolf daughter. The same two from this thing

They help monsters and things kinda like monsters.

[for those digging into tags because of Before Deluca, this is an outdated representation of Lucient. He rewrote himself. It was very rude of him, but I like him more as he is now]

“He looks so much like ol’ Darren...”

“You been around a long time, maybe he’s a descendant?”

“Would it be weird to ask him out?”

“Nah, dude’s like forty, even if he is that Darren whatever’s great great great grandkid, it’s not like he’s your kid.”

“But what if he doesn’t like men...or worse, me?”

“Use your vampire mojo, make him like you.”

“Oriana!”

“What? You can, can’t you?”

“That doesn’t mean I should. And you know that! I thought I raised you better...”

“You did, that’s why I didn’t suggest it first.”

“You shouldn’t have suggested it at all.”

“What about the ones you feed on, aren’t they under your...you know?”

“No, they...they actually ask for that.”

“That’s nasty.”

“That’s gothic romanticism, flower, and we wouldn’t live so comfortably without it.”

—

“Wait, so all vampires keep their bitemarks?”

“Correct.”

“But you don't have any marks on your neck.”

“I wasn't bitten…on my neck.”

“Then where, ew, ew, don't tell me it's—”

“It isn't, but it is in that general area. Fortunate really, it allowed me to escape detection during the trials.”

“Who was your, are they called sires?”

“No, that's an invention of romanticism. We simply refer to them as master or maker. In rare instances even father/mother.”

“And yours was…?”

“Building a family tree are we, flower?”

“I'm just curious. Was he famous?”

“How do you know it was a he?”

“Dad. C’mon. Like your gay ass is letting a woman anywhere near your downstairs.”

“...point, though I could do without the color. His name was Lucient, we'll avoid the surname lest you take to the wires for it. He was beautiful, kind and altogether horrible.”

“So bad breakup.”

“Psychotic break more like, but it's not something you need concern yourself with. He is long gone.”

--

“She said it’s a tulpa, and I feel I should know what that is...but I don’t.”

“Simplest description would be a dream made manifest. And they’ve become quite the nuisance since the advent of the internet. Do you remember last year with that especially long-necked horse creature?”

“Oh, but he was so sweet! He didn’t hurt anyone.”

“Not physically, no, but his presence sent a number to the hospital for mental distress. Regardless of danger, we are incapable of destroying them—and it isn’t in our job descriptions to do so. If it’s capable of conversation, we’ll ask it to go elsewhere, otherwise we capture and relocate. Did she offer a description?”

“’Really big moth’...wait, does she mean the moth man? The moth man...is real?”

“Remind me to explain the difference between a cryptid and a tulpa to Ms. Fairweather next she rings, would you? And fetch the lamp, no, no, the Elizabethan lamp.”

“What does it matter what lamp, he’s a moth.”

“One does not stop in on old friends without a gift, flower.”

—

“What’s the sap for?”

“Ichor, flower, it is the blood of a deity.”

“Oh, so a snack for the road?”

“Ha ha. Hardly, it is an offering to a reclusive creature born of…personal mythos.”

“Another tulpa?”

“Similar, yes.”

“Something to do with trees, I'm guessing?”

“Yes, but not living ones. I must offer it in a ghostwood.”

“I remember those, they're forests cut down or burned where it's all stumps and ash, right?”

“Impressive, flower. You do listen to this old man's rambling after all.”

“It's ghost trees, dad, who's going to ignore that.”

“You'd be surprised.”

“So what's the creature then, do you know them?”

“Oh yes…I, I do at that.”

“...you two fucked, didn't you? You fucked a tree.”

“Language, Oriana! Why must you be so crude.”

“You're not answering the question.”

“He is as much man as he is tree and it is no business of yours what we did or didn't do.”

“Just keep it in your pants when we see this tree man, I don't need that image in my head.”

“You're not coming, flower. He'll only show if I appear vulnerable.”

“Tell me this isn't an elaborate booty call…I mean I know it's been a while and you've been lonely and moping but—”

“I've been moping?”

“Well, brooding, but it's fine, it's hard for guys your age to meet people.”

“It is not hard for me to, I am doing fine, and you shouldn't be concerning yourself with my love life.”

“Dad, you're going out into the woods to summon a fuckable tree.”

“I’m not listening to this anymore. There are dryads dying by the grove and Namael is the only one I know that's close enough in species to help without falling victim to the same malady.”

“So the tree has a name…does the name have a meaning? Dryad names always have a meaning.”

“Not a dryad.”

“Not a no.”

“Bloodtongue, his name means he's extremely skilled with,”

“His tongue, yeah, I got that. Have fun on your booty call.”

“...”

[vivummortus]

Alexian froze, her breath hitching in her chest. She knew the risk they were running. Coming here, and trying to fool a Dragon of all things. It had been voiced, several times over, by now. She didn't want to go down this route. The Dragon King was not going to allow them anywhere near his daughters egg. And she couldn't blame him. She didn't want to put a father through this type of stress. Her own children had died, to an attack on her home soil. She knew the pain, but Alyssa was sure it would work.

And The Unicorn knew that she was only trying to help her, rebuild her Land again. It was needed, to restore the light in the world. The 9 hells were going to claim the souls, of every creature here if it wasn't handled soon. Gortash and Orion were the reason behind the removal of the protection veil. They had found a weakness , and made haste. So Alexian was sure the dead 3 wanted her extinct. But as far as those two knew , she had been killed that day as well. So it was only a matter of time before they found a way to snuff out the light, but they weren't stupid.

Sooner or later, they would realize the sun wasn't being turned to darkness because she still was alive. That was why Alyssa was trying so hard to restore her lands and bring the veil back up. But Alexian alone couldn't keep the world safe, with just her. The light wasn't as strong , much like the Bifrost with the elves. It needed more of her kind to make it flourish. Right now she needed to calm the dragon and save her mage. She felt Alyssa's fear, but also her strength, as the mage fought against the fingers about her throat. The mage began to gasp for air, trying to choke out her plea to the King of Dragons. Pushing at the claws that she could feel penetrating her throat.

❝ ---- P - please, your majesty. I, I mean no harm. ------ ��

The queen didn't waste any time, it was clear the king wasn't going to stop until he had the mage choked. Sky blue eyes flashed, going from those bright blues to a swirl of rainbow colors. Chin lifted, as Alexian whispered words unknown to anyone outside of the unicorn kingdom. Only a few rare creatures could understand what they spoke.

The long dress slowly began to fade away, as the woman formed into a unicorn. And a swirl of white light erupted around her., opening a portal to where the mage was. Sparkless of gold and white popped around the portal as a Unicorn walked through. Stopping before the dragon. She didn't move, the unicorn didn't move, didn't make a sound as it stared the dragon down. And her voice invaded his head.

❝ NO, stop, let her go. She means no harm, she is only looking out for my safety. She learned that your daughters egg could restore my kingdom, and raise my staive again. ❞

@bloodlct cont <3 <3

[khoicesbyk]

The Royal Romance.

Forevermore.

A/N: this is the next chapter in the journey of my OTP. Follow along for the fun.

Rated: Mature (at times can and will be Explicit. I'll be sure to change the rating when and if that happens). | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual. Y'all should be used to this from me by now 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me and/or other authors [their characters have been mentioned and/or used in the story with their permission] ) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 5,540 words. (may be slightly more or may be slightly less. Look, I stop counting after editing and re-editing and driving myself insane. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or DM me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

This series is rated Mature and/or Explicit. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations 

Chapter 3.) Ties That Bind.

It had been a few days since Shanelle called her father to let him know that his brother had a stroke and was in a coma. It was news Damien took in stride but Her Majesty could tell her father was heartbroken. When the press release went out about the ailing former King some in the kingdom were sad for him but others not so much. None more than Her Majesty. But protocol dictated that she showed some form of compassion even if she didn't want to. 

She met her parents at the residence of the palace. 

“Hi Daddy,” she said as she hugged her father. 

“Hello, my darling,” he replied. 

She was happy to see her parents. She then hugged her mother. 

“It's good to see you butterfly.”

“It's good to see you too, Madam Minister.”

Shantel snickered just as Marquise and the children came around the corner. 

“Grammy! Pop Pop!” Khari said as she ran up to her grandparents. 

Damien opened his arms to her and her brothers. 

“Hello, my sunshine! Hello boys! How are you?” he said as he embraced them. 

“We're good Pop Pop. Mommy told me that your brother is sick.” Khari replied. 

Damien smiled softly. 

“Yes, he is. But his doctors will help to make him better.”

Khari nodded. 

“And we know you are sad. But we're here to cheer you up. Right boys?” Khari asked. 

Being with his grandchildren always made Damien’s heart swell. 

“Thank you my little ones. Your love can heal anything.”

Damien watched as Khari and the boys toddled over to Shantel. 

“My sweet babies! Grammy missed you.” 

Later that evening after spending family time, Damien found himself sharing a drink with his son-in-law. 

“Since it's just us Damien, how are you, really?” Marquise asked. 

Damien took a contemplative sip of his drink. 

“To be honest I'm not even sure. I am sad for my brother but I also know he made a lot of enemies in his time as King. So part of me feels like this may be his karma coming back to get him but still.” Damien replies. 

“He's your brother?” Marquise asks. 

Damien nodded. 

“Yes. I know why you and my daughter can't stand him and I understand that. I understand why you two would never allow him anywhere near the children. But despite all of that he is still family.”

“You've certainly gone to great lengths to stick your neck out for him.”

Damien shook his head. 

“I know. It's part of the promise that I made to my father before he died.”

“What promise was that?” Marquise asked. 

Damien sighed into his drink. 

“I promised my father that I would always be loyal to my brother. That I would always be here to help guide him. Because he would always need me to be by his side.” Damien replies. 

“Even though he's never done the same for you?” Marquise asks. 

“Yes. Even then. Loyalty and family make strange bedfellows. I would think you'd know what it's like to have an older brother on the trajectory to be a King.” Damien replies. 

Marquise nodded. 

“True. The only difference is mine has never turned on me the way yours has always taken every chance to turn on you.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Damien said with a sigh as he finished his drink. “I guess what you could say bothers me the most is that for the first time in years, I'll actually see him looking and being vulnerable. You know as well as anyone that vulnerability is dangerous.”

“This is true. But you have to remember Edward is no longer a King.”

Damien shook his head as he poured himself another drink. 

“That doesn't mean his enemies have forgotten his time as one.” 

“You said this would be the first time that you've seen him be this vulnerable in years. What do you mean by that?” 

Damien took a thoughtful sip of his drink. 

“When we were children, he had to have his tonsils removed.”

“Only his tonsils? You sure they didn't take his spine too?” Marquise asks. 

Damien chuckled softly. 

“Anyway, for the two weeks following that surgery, he was pitiful. Mad that he couldn't eat what he wanted.”

“I'm almost scared to ask this but what was that?” Marquise asked. 

“Our cook at the time, Lemmy, used to make the best brownies in the world. Edward adored them. So I would sneak him a brownie and a glass of warm milk every night before bed.” Damien replied. 

Damien sighed. 

“We weren't always awkwardly estranged, you know. There was a point in our lives when we were brothers and not just King and servant. We used to be inseparable as children. Always doing everything together.”

“What happened?” Marquise asks. 

“He remembered that although we are brothers, he is and was always meant to be the heir. Once he started taking his governance lessons and sitting in on political meetings with my father, he slowly changed. He got a taste of what true power was like and it shifted his mindset. It changed him. And he's never been the same since.” Damien replies. 

Marquise nodded. 

“I see.”

“That was always my fear of Shanelle taking the throne.”

“What? That she’d become power-hungry?” Marquise asked. 

“Yes. I sometimes feared that she'd forget who she really is. You know better than anyone how hard it is to bring peace and to govern. You also know how alluring that power is and how corruptive it can be. She's not a corrupt dictator like my brother and your father turned out to be. She actually cares about the people and their needs as well as the overall well-being of the kingdom. As do you. Yes, she's gotten used to having the absolute finest and most luxurious things in life, but that's because she's earned that life.” Damien replied. 

“That is something I can assure you that you never have to worry about. If there's one thing my wife has never forgotten it's her humanity. She knows who she is and where she came from. And she teaches that to our children every day. She has never forgotten how precarious her position as Queen is.”

Damien nodded. 

“I know. And please don't think that I doubt her abilities as a leader or yours for that matter. I just know what that much power can do to someone.”

Marquise nodded. 

“I understand.”

Damien nodded at him gratefully. 

“I'm glad you understand,” Damien said as he finished his drink, “thank you for the drink son. But I think it's time I get to bed. We are traveling to Cloutier tomorrow.”

“Good luck tomorrow Damien. I know that it won't be easy for you.” Marquise said as he held out his hand. 

“Thank you, son. I appreciate it,” Damien replied as he shook Marquise’s hand. “I'll see you in the morning, Your Majesty.”

“Goodnight Your Highness.”

The two men nodded to each other before going their separate ways for the night. The next morning with the children staying with Marquise, Shanelle and her parents made the trip to the former capital city of South Cordonia. As they rode to Cloutier Shanelle peered over to her father and could tell something was on his mind. 

“Are you okay Daddy?” She asked as she squeezed his left hand. 

That seemed to snap Damien out of his trance. 

“Yes, my darling I’m okay. I guess.” He replies. 

“What’s wrong dear?” Shantel asked her husband. 

Damien sighed heavily. 

“I guess this reminds me of the last time I was truly home,” Damien replies. 

Shantel laid her head on his shoulder. 

“You mean when we came here the day before your parents died?” Shantel asks. 

“Yes.” He replied quietly. 

Damien shook his head sadly before looking at his daughter. 

“You were just a baby when they died. You were just barely older than the boys are now. But the love they had for you was always so strong. Father adored you and mother…God she doted over you when we brought you here for the first time. Whatever you wanted she made sure you had it. I guess that's one of the reasons why Edward has always resented me.”

Shanelle smiled softly. 

“I guess this trip is bringing up feelings I thought were long buried. That's all. I don't want you two to worry about me.” 

“Too late honey. We’ll always worry about you.”

Shanelle smiled at her dad. 

“What mom said.” 

Damien smiled. 

“Thank you both.” 

The three spent the rest of the ride in companionable silence. Gazing out at the countryside. Seeing many getting ready for the upcoming Harvest Ball and Festival. As they rode down into the palace motorway, Damien took a deep breath. 

“Well here we are,” he said quietly. 

“It's okay Daddy. We’ll be right by your side.” Shanelle said reassuringly. 

“Thank you my darling. Having my two favorite girls with me makes this a whole lot easier.” 

The three exited the limo and headed to the entrance where they were greeted by Prince Edwin and someone from Damien’s past. 

“Good morning Your Majesty, Your Highness, Your Grace. Welcome to the palace.” Edwin said in greeting. 

“Good morning cousin. Thank you for welcoming us.” Shanelle replies. 

Edwin nods politely. 

“You're welcome, Your Majesty. Now please let me introduce you to my aunt Countess Alicia Jacquier-Barbaroux, my mother's lead ladies' maid and head of the palace staff here.”

Shanelle nodded politely to the woman. 

“It's good to meet you, Countess.” 

“It's good to meet you as well, Your Majesty.” the Countess replies before turning to Damien, “Your Highness. It's good to see you again.”

“Hello Countess, thank you for having us,” Damien replied, taking Shantel’s arm in his.

“Us?” she asks somewhat perplexed before regaining herself, “Ahh yes. Shantel is it? It's good that you’re here too.”

Shantel forces a smile. 

“Countess, my mother is a Duchess and is to be addressed as Your Grace.” Shanelle corrected her. 

Countess Alicia nodded politely. 

“My apologies, Your Majesty. It's good to have you here…Your Grace.”

“Thank you for having us Countess,” Shantel says coolly. 

Countess nods demurely before Edwin clears his throat. 

“Shall we go inside now?” Edwin asks. 

“Yes. Let's.” Shanelle replies. 

Edwin took his aunt’s arm and led Shanelle and her parents inside. As they walked behind their hosts Shanelle glanced over to her mother and read the tight expression on her face. 

“Mom, are you okay?” Shanelle asks. 

“Yes, baby I'm fine,” Shantel replied tightly. 

Shanelle looked at her father. 

“Daddy?” she asks. 

Damien sighed. 

“Let's just say, Countess Alicia and your mother do NOT get along,” he replies. 

“That's one way to put it,” Shantel muttered. 

“Do I need to have words with this woman?” Shanelle asks. 

“No baby. I'll be fine.” Shantel replied. 

Shanelle cleared her throat, catching her cousin's attention. 

“I'm surprised you’re here Edwin. I thought you weren't speaking to your father.”

Edwin stopped and then sighed heavily, rubbing his brow. 

“I’m not but because I am his eldest child, protocol dictates that I be here in his time of need. Same as you.” 

“And how are you doing? How is Pascal?” she asks. 

“Forgive me, Your Majesty but I'm not sure why you care,” he replied. 

“Because I know for a fact that you two have been together publicly since his divorce from Giana was finalized back in January. And because I actually want to see you be happy.”

Edwin looked at her and nodded slowly. 

“Thank you, Shanelle.”

“Whether you believe me or not, I wish you both the best. And so does my husband.”

“Thank you, cousin. I wasn't sure how you'd react.”

“Just because we've never really gotten along doesn't mean that I hate you. I genuinely want you to be happy.”

“I appreciate that.” he said before pausing momentarily, “If it's not too forward, I would like to extend you and His Majesty an invitation to our wedding next March.”

Shanelle nodded with a small smile. 

“We would be delighted to attend.”

“You would?” he asks. 

“Yes. Again I don't hate you. I would love to be there.” she replies. 

“Thank you. Now because of the divorce, Giana is barring their children from our wedding so I was hoping you'd allow the Princess and Princes to stand in as a flower girl and ring bearers on their behalf.”

“I'm sure my daughter would love that. I don’t know about my boys. I don't think they would understand the concept but I would love to see them walk down the aisle with their sister.” 

“Thank you, Shanelle. It means a lot to me that you and your family would attend and can you ask His Majesty if he wouldn't mind officiating,” he said to her.

“I most certainly can ask him.”

Edwin nodded gratefully before turning to Damien and Shantel, “I would love for you both to attend as well Uncle.”

Damien nodded gratefully. 

“Send us the invitation and your uncle and I will happily be there,” Shantel replies. 

Alicia rolled her eyes and Shantel caught it. 

“Is there something wrong Countess?” Shantel asks. 

“No no. Well…I'm just not sure why Edwin would invite you. I just thought this would be an intimate family affair.”

Damien sighed. 

“Not that you need to be reminded Alicia, but Shantel is my wife and Edwin’s aunt through marriage. She is no different than you.” 

“I was only kidding Damien.”

“Sure you were…” Shantel muttered. 

“Just so you know Countess, disrespecting my mother is the same as disrespecting me. And I will not tolerate being disrespected nor will I tolerate my mother being disrespected.” Shanelle warned the Countess. 

“Very well. I apologize…Duchess.” Countess Alicia said to Shantel. 

“Sure.” 

“Shall we continue?” Edwin asks before he continues down the main hall. 

Edwin led them to his father’s bed chamber. When they got to the door, they were greeted by two women. 

“Your Majesty, Your Highness, Your Grace, meet my cousins Lady Ariella Barbaroux-Lawrence and Lady Amina Barbaroux-Clauson,” Edwin said as he introduced them, “My ladies, please meet Her Majesty, and my aunt and uncle, Prince Damien and Duchess Shantel.”

Both ladies curtsied before joining their mother’s side giving Shantel the same side eye as their mother that Shanelle noticed. 

“Are you all ready?” Edwin asked. 

“Give us a moment, if you please,” Shanelle replies. 

Edwin nodded. 

“Of course Your Majesty.”

Shanelle pulled her parents into a nearby alcove. 

“Okay, what is going on here?” Shanelle asked her parents. 

Damien sighed. 

“Alicia was the one I was supposed to marry before I met your mother,” Damien replies. 

“Yeah, and the bitch has never let me live it down,” Shantel added. 

Shanelle groaned. 

“What is it with you Cordonians and marrying women you have no business marrying?” Shanelle teased. 

Her parents snickered. 

“The heart wants what it wants,” Damien replied. 

“Are you sure that the Countess won't be a problem?” Shanelle asked.

“Yes, my darling. Alicia has never forgiven me for marrying your mother but as you can clearly see I have never regretted my decision to marry the love of my life.” Damien replies. 

“It's also why Genevieve and I have never gotten along. To her and especially her step-sister, I've never been good enough for your father or his station.” Shantel added. 

“Jesus Christ!” Shanelle groaned. 

“We'll be fine, baby,” Shantel assured her daughter.

“Okay. Let's go see the rusty old windpipe Daddy calls a brother.” 

Damien snickered as he shook his head. Soon they rejoined Edwin outside the former King’s bedchamber door.

“Shall we?” Edwin asked. 

Shanelle nodded while Damien took a deep breath. 

Edwin opened the chamber door to reveal Edward lying in bed hooked up to an IV machine with Genevieve and a nurse by his side. Seeing Edward reminded Damien of what his father looked like in his final moments as he and his family walked in. 

“Father, Mother, you have guests.” Edwin informed his parents. 

When Edward looked up his face instantly soured. 

“What are you doing here in my palace?” he sneered at Shanelle. 

“Believe me I don't want to be here any more than you want me to be here. But since you decided to go off and have a stroke on me, I'm here. Also, you forget this is MY Palace. You stay here because I allow it.” Shanelle snapped at him. 

Edward turned his attention to Damien. 

“And what about you? What the hell are you doing here?” Edward asked Damien. 

Damien closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. 

“Last time I checked this was my home and you are my brother,” Damien replied. 

“Don't you dare get smart with me you simpleton!” Edward snapped at Damien. 

“Watch your mouth, Edward! Unless you want to foot the bill for your care yourself.” Shanelle warned him. 

“You can't do that!” Genevieve said to Shanelle. 

“You're right. I can't but my husband can and I will make sure that he does. I will not tolerate my father being disrespected. Especially by this pompous ass. So I suggest you tell your estranged husband to keep his trap shut.”

Genevieve narrowed her eyes at Shanelle before going back to tending to Edward. 

“Why are you even here Genevieve? I thought you filed for divorce.” Shanelle asked. 

“Yes well, Edward and I have reconciled. We are stronger together than we are apart.”

“You mean your stipend wasn't enough to finance your lifestyle,” Shantel quipped. 

Shanelle snickered. 

“I earned that stipend. Unlike you, Minister.” Genevieve sneered. 

“Minister? What are you talking about sister?” Alicia asked. 

“His Majesty has named her the new Education Minister. Not that someone like her deserves it.” Genevieve replies. 

“She certainly doesn't.”

Shantel rolled her eyes. 

“For the record, my mother has over 30 years of educational experience as an educator, she also has 2 MBAs, one in early childhood education and one in secondary education from NYU, and is working on her doctorate as we speak, as well as being the NYCPS Teachers Union president for nearly 25 years. Most of the nobles who were nominated before her had no prior experience in any form of education. It would do you both good to remember that. Thank you very much.” Shanelle snapped at them. 

Shantel nodded gratefully as Alicia rolled her eyes. 

“Very well. Apologies…Duchess.”

“Careful Alicia. Your envy is starting to show.”  Shantel warned her. 

“Can we do this somewhere else?” Damien asked. 

The two women glared at each other but backed down. That's when Damien finally walked over to his brother's bedside while his wife and daughter stayed close to the door. 

“You never did answer my question, little brother.” 

“What question is that?” Damien asks. 

“What are you doing here?” Edward replied. 

“I'm here because my older brother had a stroke. And whether he wants to hear or not I still care about him.” 

Edward scoffed. 

“I don't need your pity!” 

“And yet you have it anyway.”

“Well now that you've seen me, you and your family can leave.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

“I said leave! I don't need you! I have never needed you! You were always the weakling that I had to carry for the sake of our parents. If it were up to me you would've been exiled the night they died!” 

That's when Damien snapped. 

“I have heard enough Edward! If you must know I'm here to remind you that you are no longer a King. Nor were you ever a God! You are just a man! You want to know why I'm really here? I'm here because whether you realize it or not, I am the only family that you have left!” Damien’s voice boomed, “Look at what all you've done in and with your life! The only reason Genevieve came back to you is because she's broke! Hell, even your own children want nothing to do with you because they are that ashamed of you! The only reason poor Edwin even is here is because of his duty to his father! The same as me!”

By the time Damien was done, Edward was stunned. It was the first time he had ever yelled at his brother. That's when a slow clap coming from the doorway broke out. 

“Well well well! Would you look at that? The coward finally found his spine. Never mind the fact that it only took you damn near our whole lives to do so.”

When everyone turned to the doorway in walked Shanelle’s Godfather and Damien’s best friend Commander Gaspard Devereaux. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Alicia asked. 

When Gaspard turned to her his face soured. 

“Oh, good Lord! What cesspool did they drag you out of? If you must know, I'm obviously not here looking for you. I'm here as a guest of the Queen.” Gaspard replies. 

“I did not invite you!” Genevieve said. 

“I wasn't talking about you, you bottom-feeding wretch!” 

Shantel snorted. 

“I'm talking about my goddaughter,” Gaspard said, gesturing to Shanelle. 

“How dare you insult my wife?!” Edward exclaimed. 

“How dare you insult my wife?!” Gaspard mocked. “Very easily actually. Especially since I am no longer under your command. That means I can insult her and this cheap two-timing golddigger she calls a step-sister all I want!”

Genevieve seethed. 

“Now speaking of my goddaughter, where is my little beauty? Ahh, there you are! And look at you! You are as beautiful as the day I met you, my dear.”

Shanelle snickered. 

“Thank you, Godfather. It's good to see you.” Shanelle said as she hugged him. 

“It's good to see you too, Your Majesty,” he said with a bow. 

When he looked over at Shantel he had a smirk on his face. 

“Well well! If it isn't the cause of my exile!” he teased. 

“Oh go to hell Gaspard!” Shantel hissed. 

“So prickly! You know you used to have a sense of humor when you were younger.” 

Shantel shook her head with a smile. 

“You're lucky I tolerate you.” Shantel said as she hugged him, “It's good to see you.” 

“It's good to be seen.” 

“How is Amelia?” Shantel asked. 

“Fantastic. Ready for Thanksgiving.” Gaspard replies. 

“Good. I can't wait to see her and everyone.”

When Gaspard got to Damien he had a look of smug pride on his face. 

“Well well, you finally did it, old friend. You finally found your voice after years of being the punching bag of the conniving snake you call a brother. Gone are the days of you having the voice of a meager little church mouse, and here to stay are the days of you having the voice of a bullhorn.” 

Edward gave Gaspard a venomous look. 

“Are you quite finished?” Edward asked. 

That's when Gaspard turned to Edward. 

“Of course not Your former Majesty. I have only just begun. How fitting that the once-great King of South Cordonia has been humbled by a stroke. Tis a shame that it didn't claim your tongue or your life for that matter.” Gaspard replies. 

Edward looked at him indignantly.

“You filthy God awful excuse of—” Edward’s words were cut off by a coughing fit. 

“That's it! I want all of you out! Alicia get them out of here now!” Genevieve demanded. 

“At once Your Majesty,” Alicia replied. 

“If I may Countess, I'd like to have rooms prepared for my wife and I, and the Commander,” Damien said to her. 

“With all due respect Your Highness, you have no jurisdiction here,” Alicia replies. 

“You're right, he doesn't. But as the owner of this palace, I do. And as head of the staff here, you are under my command. With that said, I want rooms prepared here for my parents and Godfather, immediately. Thank you.” Shanelle said to Alicia. 

Alicia stared at Shanelle before clearing her throat nervously.  

“Y-yes, Your Majesty. Right away.” 

“Thank you, Countess.” 

“Do not…make rooms…for these fools!” Edward Said through a coughing fit. 

“Big Brother you are in no position to make any demands. As I said earlier this is my home. The same as yours.”

“This is not your home! Not anymore!” Edward wheezed. 

“No thanks to you! But now that you no longer have any power, you can no longer ban me from my home. And you certainly have no power to keep me from the one thing I treasure most in this world!” Damien snapped at his brother. 

“And dare I ask what that is?” Edward asked. 

“Our parents’ final resting place,” Damien replies.

“You stay the hell away from there!” Edward sneered at Damien. 

“You're no longer a King, Edward. You have no power anymore. Once more you’re no longer my King. Which means you have no power over me!” Damien snapped at his brother, before walking out of Edward’s room. With Shanelle, Shantel, and Gaspard hot on his heels. 

Once outside, Damien walked a few steps to a large picture window overlooking his mother’s garden. The tension in his body left him, and his shoulders slumped as he took a shaky breath. 

“Daddy? Are you okay?” Shanelle asked quietly. 

“I shouldn't have yelled at him like that. Not when he's in such a fragile state.” Damien replied. 

“What?! Are you insane?!” Gaspard asked. 

“Gaspard,” Damien replies. 

“Don't you Gaspard me! You had every right to yell at that no-good bastard! He's done nothing but bully me and especially you our whole lives. In case you've forgotten, I hadn't been able to come home in decades because he exiled me to America! An exile mind you, that your daughter and son-in-law lifted. On top of granting me the death benefits of my father that your brother refused to pay after he died.” 

“I haven't forgotten Gaspard. I could never forget.”

Gaspard scoffed. 

“Gee, I can't tell.”

“Gaspard, that's enough! You’re not the only one he hurt.” Shantel said to him. 

Gaspard sighed. 

“I'm sorry my friend. I wasn't trying to take this out on you.” 

Damien smiled softly at his best friend. 

“I know you aren't.”

The two embraced. 

“It's really good to see you, old friend.”

“Likewise Gaspard.” 

Damien faced out at the garden before looking back at his daughter. 

“Come with me?” he asks her. 

“I would love to,” she replies. 

Shanelle slipped her hand into his before they, her mother and godfather walked out to Damien’s mother’s garden. They took time to walk amongst the rows of Queen Angelique’s favorite flowers. Being able to share this with his daughter, meant the world to Damien. They stopped when they got to a garden chair set that had seen better days. 

“Do you remember this?” Damien asked his daughter. 

She looked at the set trying to recall it. 

“No, I don't. I'm sorry,” she replies. 

“It was where we had high tea with your grandmother. She invited me and Mama to join you and her.” Shantel piped up. 

Shanelle looked back at the garden chair set. 

“I don't remember that.” 

Shantel smiled at the garden set. 

“It was a few days before your coronation. She had all the ladies of her court there. That's when she first introduced you to them.” 

Shanelle closed her eyes and nodded. Damien wrapped her in a loving hug. 

“Your grandmother was so proud and excited to show you off to the ladies of the court. She had found out she had a granddaughter and she was going to make sure the whole world knew about you.” Damien said softly to his daughter. 

Shanelle softly wiped the tears from her eyes. 

“I miss her. And Baba too.” Shanelle said quietly. 

“You are the reason, he became a better King in his final days. That is one thing I am most proud of.”

“But I didn't do anything.” 

Damien kissed his daughter on her forehead.

“You changed his life and his view on his kingdom. Because he knew his kingdom would one day be yours. You made him a better man and King. No one can say they did that but you.” 

Shanelle laid her head on her father’s shoulder and smiled softly. 

Later that night, after making sure her parents and Godfather were safe, comfortable, and situated in their guest rooms at the old Palace, Shanelle was back home in her husband’s arms enjoying a glass of wine. 

“Well, you've had quite the day.”

Shanelle sighed. 

“Tell me about it. I swear if murder wasn't illegal or at least severely frowned upon, I'd bomb that damn palace and everyone in it.” 

Marquise snorted. 

“Ever my charming and beautiful murderess.”

“Those imbeciles deserve it!” 

Marquise refilled his drink. 

“Anyway, tell me more about your cousin’s upcoming wedding.”

Shanelle smiled softly. 

“He invited us and my parents and I couldn't say no. And I meant it when I told him that I am happy for him and Pascal.”

Marquise nodded. 

“Did he say who was officiating?” he asks. 

“Yes. I wanted to know if you'd officiate their wedding,” she replies. 

“Me?” 

“You do have the power to officiate weddings, Sir.” 

“True.” he said before taking a sip of his drink, “So I guess I should dust off my Bible and grab my officiating tie. I have yet another wedding.” 

Shanelle rolled her eyes good-naturedly. 

“What else happened?” he asked. 

“We toured my grandmother’s garden and Daddy showed me where she had us have high tea with her,” she replied. 

“Tell me about that.”

Shanelle smiled wistfully. 

“It's beautiful. All of her favorite flowers are there. I felt like she was there with us. I would love to bring Khari. She would love it.”

“I'm sure she would. She loves flowers. She loves taking flowers from the maze and bringing them inside.”

“Part of me is happy we went.”

“You were happy to see your uncle?” 

“No, you dumbass. It was good to be back in the palace because, for the first time, it didn't feel like a dungeon.”

“I mean it is your Palace, my love. You are allowed to come and go there as you please. And the only reason Edward and his family have been able to stay there is because you didn't want to take the only home your cousins had ever known away from them.” 

“True.”

“And now that your cousins are grown and clearly on their own, you have the power to evict His former Majesty if you choose to.” 

“Did I mention that he and Genevieve have apparently reconciled?”

Marquise made a face. 

“Well, that just ruined the mood.”

“Tell me about it.”

Just then Shanelle’s phone buzzed. 

“You should get that,” Marquise suggested. 

“Hello?” Shanelle answered. 

It was her father who was frantic over the phone. 

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Daddy slow down! What happened?…Mom and Countess Alicia did WHAT?!”

Shanelle listened to her father and tried to calm him down. 

“Okay, Daddy calm down! Where is Mom? Is she okay?…Okay, you need to calm her down and tell Godfather to quit laughing!”

Shanelle listened again before she hung up the phone.

“What is it?” Marquise asked. 

“Do you know who Countess Alicia Jacquier-Barbaroux is?” she replied. 

“Yes. She’s Genevieve’s step-sister. What about her?” he asked. 

“She's also about to be a dead woman,” she replies. 

“What happened?” 

“She got into a fight with my mother. And lost.” 

Marquise let out a breath. 

“Yikes!”

“Exactly.”

“Is mom okay?”

“Yeah, she's fine. She's just royally pissed.”

“I don't blame her. Where is the Countess now?”

“All I know is my parents are on one side of the palace and she's on the other.”

Marquise nodded decisively. 

“I’ll have an arrest warrant issued for the Countess in the morning.”

“In the morning? Why not now?”

“Because doing it now would mean that I'd have to get up and walk all the way down the hall to my office. And I don't want to do that now that I'm in a comfortable spot.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes. 

“Fine. I do have a question though.”

“Yes?”

“Wouldn't issuing a warrant on my mom’s behalf be considered showing favoritism?”

“Your Mother is an active member of the Royal Family. So no it's not.”

“Why can't you get a judge to do it?”

“Because all the nobles answer to me, not to the judges.”

“Good. The sooner that bitch is arrested the better.” 

“It will be done, my Queen.”

“Good. I'll go back to the palace tomorrow to check up on Mom and make sure she's really okay.”

“Do you want some company?”

“No, not unless you want to hear Genevieve bitching at me at the top of her lungs.”

“Oh, how I thoroughly enjoy making that woman and her God-awful husband suffer.”

“And you have the nerve to call me a murderess.”

“You want to drop a literal bomb on her.”

“No, I don't.”

“Yes, you do. Not that I blame you. Whereas I want to take pleasure in watching her suffer. And thus why we are not the same.”

“Yeah yeah…” she muttered. 

“Don’t worry my love. All will be taken care of by this time tomorrow. You have my word on that.”

“I know. And besides Khari will have your head if it isn't.”

“Ugh! Did you have to remind me?”

Shanelle snickered as she snuggled with her husband. Because he was right. He would make extra sure that this matter is dealt with as swiftly and quietly as possible.

[bucky-barmes]

♥︎ You should see me in a crown, but you won't ♥︎

Being the daughter of the royal family sounds all fun and games, except when you despise it all. The only one that seems to care is your bodyguard, James, but will that cause friction with your father?

bodyguard!Bucky x f!royalty!reader

word count: 2,976

chapter 1

warnings: angst, so much angst (i was in a major angsty mood apparently) asshole bucky (& i'm not even sorry tbh), no nsfw themes yet

As always, my blog is 18+ only, minors dni

[ all my work is my own and not to be reposted or translated anywhere else ]

[ gif from @unearthlydust ]

Your father was seriously off the mark if he expected you to actually show up to breakfast at 7am. The only reason you were awake in the morning at all was thanks to your old Governess, Juliana.

Even though your baby sister, Aria, was almost 18 and nowhere near being an actual baby anymore, your father insisted on keeping her around. He probably felt bad, people weren’t exactly looking for governesses in this day and age.

“It’s almost 8:30.” Christian, your father, boomed as you dragged yourself into the dining room, the smell of bacon being your only motive.

“And you’re lucky I’m here at all.” You shot him a glare as you slid into your usual seat between your mother and sister. “I’d still be asleep and away from you if it weren’t for Juliana.” The words came out as a growl as you piled bacon rashers and eggs onto your plate.

“Darling, don’t speak to your father like that, please.” The last part of your mothers sentence came out as almost a beg, a plead to not do this first thing in the morning. She knew how you felt about your father, and that the relationship had always been a complicated one, but she couldn’t stand it when the two of you went at it like that.

“Sorry, mum.” Was all you could bare to mumble out, eyes lowered at the plate of food, not wanting to meet your mothers sad eyes. You hated disappointing your mother, but your father made it hard sometimes.

“What was that? I’m not sure you mother could hear you.” Christian’s hold on his knife and fork tightened as he stared you down. So it was going to be like that, was it?

“Oh, I’m sure she did, considering she’s sitting right next to me.” Your jaw jut out in defiance. There was no way you were going to let his shit slide today. “Right, mum?”

“Yes, I heard you quite fine,” your mother agreed, her pleading eyes now directed at her husband. “How did you find the ball last night?” She looked back to you as she took a delicate bite of the bacon on her fork.

“Intolerable, as usual.” Your reply came out between mouthfuls of bacon, a silent prayer for the nausea that was beginning to rise in your stomach to fade.

“I see your lack of food etiquette has followed from last night.” Christian sent you a disgusted scowl, before turning his attention to his wife. “She turned down every single eligible bachelor I had arranged for her to speak with. You need to control her.”

You mentally thanked your father for avoiding the part of last nights story that involved your early departure. As much as you both despised each other, there was an unspoken agreement to never tell your mother about your extracurricular activities. You both knew it would devastate her, and that was something neither of you were willing to do.

“Sweetheart, when are you going to allow your heart to open and just entertain the thought of seeing someone?” The sadness in your mothers voice was deafening. “And if it’s a problem with the fact that they’ve all been men, I’m sure we could work something out, right Dear?”

Christian almost choked on his mouthful egg and toast. “Well, I suppose so-” he cleared his throat. “But one can’t exactly continue the bloodline if they’re,” he paused, struggling to find the right words so as not to upset your mother. “Well, you know.” His sentence trailed off, deciding less was more unless he wanted to endure a lecture from his beloved wife.

“Don’t worry, I like men, if that’s what you’re concerned about. Just not the awful ones that dad is so great at choosing.”

Before the conversation could go on, and potentially end up with your father being chastised by your mother for being so closed-minded, the door to the dining room opened.

Your eyes lit up as they landed on the body emerging from the hall. It was your bodyguard, James. You gave him a small but bright smile as he entered, but you were merely offered a curt nod in response, before he turned to acknowledge your father.

“Good morning, your Majesty,” he bowed his head slightly, then turned to your mother. “Your Highness.” Another bow. “My Lady.” His eyes met your little sister, Aria, as he spoke, this time with a slightly smaller bow.

Finally, he had made his was around the table to you, but all you received was a brief moment of eye contact accompanying the formal “my Lady” before he bowed his head and moved to the corner of the room to wait for further instructions from your father.

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t hurt like a bitch. After the events of last night, of him allowing you to use his nickname, the name some men had nearly died for using. Of course your father would try to ruin the only good thing you had in your life.

There was no other possible explanation, he had to have threatened James back into line. He had only ever been this formal with you during his first couple of moths working with you. Now the two of you had almost 10 years of history together, and you were determined to get that back.

~

Breakfast was well and truly over now, and you were getting ready for the day when James entered your room. “Care to explain what the hell that was?” You just about threw your hairbrush at him as you spoke anger coursing through you.

“I’ve realised our working relationship has been getting too personal.” He was still standing in the doorway, arms clasped behind his back, eyes looking straight ahead at nothing in particular.

“You realised that, or my father gave you an ultimatum?” Your eyes narrowed at him through the mirror you were sitting in front of.

“His Majesty employs me, not you.” That elicited a scoff from you.

“And since when did you care about what my father thinks? The last I remember, you hated him almost as much as me, Bucky.” You instantly regretted the final word out of your mouth, all sense of confidence dissolved at the speed in which James moved to you, standing behind you, towering over you.

“Don’t ever call me that again.” His voice was low, each word enunciated sharply. It sent a shiver down your spine. How could he turn so cold so quickly?

A meek “sorry” was all you could manage as you fumbled with the hairbrush still in your hand. You may have had your eyes glued down at your hands, but you could feel James’ boring through you, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.

“I’ll be escorting you to the ball tonight.” James stepped back to his place in the doorway, hands behind his back and eyes looking ahead again, demeanour snapping back as if the previous interaction had never happened.

“And there will be no leaving early this time.” Momentarily, his eyes flicker to yours in the mirror. If there was any emotion behind them, it was impossible for you to pick up. “The Majesty has requested that you have a list of your picks from the suitors he’s lined up for you. You won’t be leaving the ball without that list.” With that, he ducked out of the room, but not before a sharp nod in the direction of your wardrobe, signalling you to get a move on.

You sat there, motionless, for what felt like hours, but could have been only minutes. You could only assume as much seeing as James would have most definitely returned and thrown any old outfit from your wardrobe at you. Well, at least, he would have before, who knows what he would be like now.

The weather was nice out, sunny without being too warm, so you decided on your favourite jeans, the ones that hugged your body in all the right places, paired with a basic satin button down blouse. Loose and flow-y, perfect for catching the late spring breeze. Also a staple outfit you knew you would be comfortable in, no matter what the day threw at you. On your way out the door, you slipped on your ankle boots.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Christian pursed his lips as you entered the combined lounge and dining area for the second time that day.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise there was a dress code for that day?” You bit back almost immediately, eyeing the room to see what everyone else was wearing. Your mother and sister were both wearing nice summer dresses, the kind regular families would wear to fancy family lunches. Even James was in one of his best suits.

“So, apparently I missed the memo, what’s happening today?” You shot daggers at your father as you questioned, sending them James’ way first when your eyes wandered back to Christian.

“Well, if you were ever actually present for family conversations, you would know that we’re going to the Beauchamp’s for lunch today.”

It was enough for you to try and hold the eye roll in, let alone that groan that begged to accompany it. The Beauchamp’s were one of the neighbouring royal families. The ones that just so happened to be one of your most despised.

“I don’t suppose this has anything to do with trying to set me him?” A shudder rippled through you at the thought. The fathers of the two families had been trying to set up you and their eldest son, Kingsley. You couldn’t make it up if you tried. A royal family calling their son Kingsley. That was too much, even for you. Then you throw in the fact that he was a right asshole. The thought of it all made you want to gag.

“Well, there’s no time to change now.” Christian sighed, looking your outfit up and down again. “This will have to do. I suppose we should be thankful that it’s actually covering everything.”

The slim patience you had left for the day was beginning to wear thin. You knew he was talking about the aftermath of your dress from last night. “Well maybe I just won’t go, don’t want to embarrass the family with my disgraceful outfit.”

“Unlikely,” Christian scoffed. “You’re the topic of conversation for this lunch. You’ll be there and you’ll be on your best behaviour.”

~

The lunch could not be going worse. Much to your surprise, the Beauchamp’s actually liked your outfit, Kingsley especially, as the top few buttons undone on your blouse left plenty for him to gawk at.

It made your blood boil. But what made your blood boil even more was that James didn’t seem to care at all. Under any other circumstance, he would have been death glaring him to hell and back, potentially even pointing it out and telling him to ‘quit it unless he wanted to lose an eye’. But James just stood there by the door, looking at no one or nothing in particular. And that upset you more than anything.

The topic of you and Kingsley marrying had already been brought up three times, and every time you chose not to answer, blatantly ignoring everyone throwing questions at you. You could see how much it was affecting your father, and you loved it.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.” You pushed your seat back from the table and stood, making your way inside. James followed closely on your heel.

“What the hell are you trying to pull in there?” He hissed in your ear, annoyance evident in his tone. You knew exactly what he was talking about, but decided you weren’t going to entertain him. If he was going to treat you like nothing more than a job, so would you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your tone is casual as you fix your lipstick in the mirror of the bathroom, James following you inside and remaining behind you, scowling at you through the reflection.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. Why are you acting like such a child, your father is just trying to find you a husband.”

Your eyes snapped up to his in the reflection, narrowing dangerously. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don’t /want/ to get married? Maybe I don’t want to be another pawn in his royal game.” You turned to face him now, glaring up at him. “And you know damn well what I think about all this bullshit with arranged marriages, so why don’t you cut the crap James, my father isn’t watching over you right now. What the hell happened to you?” You hadn’t noticed it, but your voice was steadily raising as you spoke, to the point of almost yelling.

James could only scoff. “What the hell happened? Maybe I realised that our relationship was getting too personal. I’m your bodyguard, Y/N, it’s my job to make sure you stay safe and keep your annoying ass out of trouble. That’s it.” You’d be lying if you said those words didn’t hurt. A lot.

“Wow, James, that’s really what you think of me? So I’m just some annoying princess you were assigned to?” You’re lost for words, all you could manage was a disdainful laugh.

“Fuck this, I’m going home.” You shoved past him to leave the bathroom, but he grabbed your forearm with his right hand.

“Like hell you are. You’re staying for this lunch whether you like it or not, Christian’s orders.”

“And when have I ever followed any of his orders? Let me go.” You attempted to pull your arm from his grip, but it only tightened.

“Well you will be starting to, today.” He moved to drag you back to the table outside, but you pulled back in resistance, causing him to grip even tighter.

“You won’t win this, Y/N.” James’ eyes narrowed at you, pulling you towards him again, harder this time.

“Ow, James, you’re hurting me now.” Your eyes widened at his attitude, at the sheer flip he had done from just a couple of days ago. The thought brought tears to your eyes. Never, once, in the entire time he had worked with you, had he ever even got close to accidentally hurting you, let alone intentionally. The thought made you instinctively retract into yourself, sullenly trying to pull your arm back with you.

For just a second, James’ eyes flashed with guilt, his grip loosening just enough for you to draw your arm in and grab the spot he had gripped, bruises already started to form.

You pushed past him before he could stop you again. “I’m going home, James, you can’t stop me.”

You were halfway up the driveway of the Beauchamp’s estate when a car honked a slowed beside you.

“Let me drive you, Princess.” James spoke to you from the window, slowly rolling along with your walking pace, but you ignored him.

“You can’t walk home, princess, it’ll take hours.”

“Who said I’m walking?” You bit back.

“How else would you get home? It’s not safe.” There was concern in his words, but you didn’t trust that it was genuine.

“What’s it to you? If something happens to me then you won’t have to worry about my annoying ass anymore.” You snapped back, stopping in your tracks to glare at him.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it, Y/N.” He stopped the car, getting out.

“Then why would you say it then? It sure sounded like you meant it.”

“Just get in the damn car and let me drive you home, for Christ’s sake.” James’ voice had risen, not unlike yours in the bathroom before.

“Why are you so fucking pissed at me, James? I’ve done absolutely nothing to you and you start treating me like shit out of nowhere. Maybe I’d be better off marrying Kingsley, or any one of my fathers arranged marriages, just to get the fuck away from you.” You were practically screaming at him now, right up in his face, stabbing into his chest with your finger.

James went silent, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. “I’m taking you home.” He opened the back door and pushed you inside, his job made easy as you closed the distance between you moments before. There was no getting out of it even if you wanted to. You did, however, want to go home.

The car ride back to your estate was silent and tense. James glancing at you every so often through the rearview mirror, hands gripping the steering wheel like he was trying to choke the life out of it.

The second he opened your door for you, you were out of the car and marching inside and away from him, James following you the whole way to your room.

You made it inside your room and slammed the door shut just before he reached you. The sound of the lock clicking a deafening symbol loss of connection between the two of you. He stood outside of your door, fists resting on it.

“Can we just… talk?” He sounded defeated, yet still nothing like the James you knew before.

“I have nothing left to say, James, and I think I’ve heard enough from you.” He couldn’t see you, but you were stood facing him from the other side of the door, arms folded over you chest in frustration at him.

“Fine, if you’re going to act like a child, you’ll be treated like a child.” His words hit you like ice, sending a chill down you spine. “I’ll see you at breakfast, Princess.”

taglist: @boofy1998 @nerdy-bookworm-1998

& tagging some moots i luv: @traitorjoelite @sweetdreamsbuck @beefybuckrrito @posinhay @igotnoname4thisblog (hi bbys i haven't talked to some you y'all in way too long 🥺)