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

[hellsenthero]

Azriel As a New Father.

Masterlist

***

Azriel never thought he'd be a father. Who could love him enough to make a family with him? How could he even be a half decent father when his own was so cruel?

But then you fell pregnant, and it was perhaps the happiest he's ever been.

Until you birthed your little one, his baby girl. Now, Az is convinced he can't be any happier than he is right now.

He's scared at first to hold his daughter in his arms, to touch her with his scared hands. Hands that have hurt so many. Killed so many. They shouldn't be anywhere near this too pure bundle of love.

But of course, you encourage him. Slowly, gently, he picks up his daughter.

And he never wants to let her go. She smells like a mix of your scent and his own, with something uniquely her own. Her eyes are filled with a light that could have only come from you, but the colour is that of his own.

He doesn't realize he's crying until he feels you wipe a stray tear away with an outstretched hand.

"She's beautiful," he says softly.

You nod in agreement. "Just like you."

Azriel lets out a wet laugh. "Thank you," he says without looking away from his daughter. "My love," he murmurs. It's soft, quiet, but you hear him.

"She's going to be the most protected female in all of Prythian."

"I know," you answer.

"And she won't be allowed to even think about dating until she's thirty." Azriel says.

You let out a laugh at your mate's protective nature. "Agreed."

"What do we name her?"

"I like the name you chose." You answer.

"Really?"

"Really," you say with a smile.

"Well then," Azriel says as he tucks his daughter into his chest just a bit tighter. "Welcome home, Lyra."

[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.

Part 3

Taglist: @reggierizzoli @ordelixx @mousetheorist

[storm-angel989]

hey could you do a Valentino x Daughter Reader where the Vees/Angel finds out that Reader has been starving herself and taking pills that make her lose weight?

Hi there,

So I did write one of these already (check out my master list!) but I wrote another version because you asked to include Angel Dust. Diet pills are another thing I have personal experience with, and I promise you they're not worth it. As hard as it is somedays, our bodies are worthy of love and respect always <3

<3 Mandy

Privacy had never really been a big deal to me. 

Growing up the tech overlord’s niece, I was acutely aware that anything and everything I brought, sent, typed, created, handed in was subject to scrutiny by my Uncle Vox. Not that he went out of his way to divulge into my personal life, but there had definitely been a few times I had been reminded of his power to keep tabs on me. 

It wasn’t until I started dieting to get more into shape for the upcoming school year that Vox’s constant monitoring became an issue. 

It started with the ballerina tea in September. Something my friends at school swore up and down would help me trim down before the holiday season. For the first time in my life, I heard whispers- too big, too small. Just right. Fashion presented in a way even my Aunt Velvette hadn’t shown me. As we thumbed through magazines, shifted through racks of clothes at the local mall, I slowly started to see my friend’s point, and everything my body wasn’t. 

Thoughtlessly, I clicked on the order now button and in minutes, my phone rang.

“Hey, kid. I canceled your order. You can’t drink that stuff, it will seriously mess up your gut,” my Uncle Vox’s voice came through on the line. 

I felt shame spread across my face. Not a single parental figure in my life had ever scolded me for what I wanted to put in my body. Hell, my Dad even let me have ice cream for breakfast one morning when my Mom was out of town. Why was my Uncle Vox even remotely paying attention to what I wanted to drink? Embarrassment. Did he not know just how flawed I was?

Somewhere inside, a little voice told me to keep quiet. 

“Reader? Did you hear me?” Vox’s voice repeated. 

“Ye-yeah, Uncle Vox, sorry,” I squeaked out. “I just…my friends at school they…”

“If your friends at school all jumped off a cliff, would you? I can make a doctor's appointment if you’d like and she can explain exactly what…”

“No, no, Uncle Vox. I’m good,” I replied quickly. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight, kiddo.”

I hung up the phone in dismay as cracks in my fantasies began to form. How exactly was I supposed to be thinner if I was hitting a wall trying to use the resources available to me? How was I supposed to look like the models on the cover of Aunt Velvette’s magazines if I kept doing what I was doing? I needed help, but from where? 

My answer lay in the network of friends I had available to me. A quiet whisper- folded notes with paper currency passed in study hall returned with white powder filled capsules. 

Drink a glass of water and take one pill three times a day, the note back read. 

Instructions I could follow easily, and all it took was downing that first pill to get me absolutely hooked. I couldn’t pinpoint when I slowly started to cut back on what I ate, or when the little voice inside my head started to tell me I didn’t deserve food. That the number on the scale was the only thing that mattered and the faster the number went down, the happier the voice inside my head became. Beauty, numbers, purity took over my thoughts. 

As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, I decided that voice had a name. Ana. And she was my only friend in the entire world. 

Two months passed before my world came crashing down. 

“Hey babe, I know you’re on your way out the door, but meet me in my studio afterschool today, hm?” My fathers voice carried across the kitchen. 

I froze. On my normal day to day, I wasn’t allowed anywhere near my fathers business office- or studio, as he called it. I was well aware of what he was in the business of, but he did his best to keep me from it. Or at least, from the worst of it. 

“Why?” I asked, my back turned to him.

“You have a half day. Your Aunt and Uncle both have meetings, so you’ll be doing your homework in my office tonight,” he replied. “And I received several forms in the mail from the school. You need a physical before winter season begins, so we might as well get that done. And then I’ll take you out to lunch. It’s been awhile since we’ve spent time together.” 

The entire thing sounded like my current worst nightmare. I struggled to come up with the words to try to get out of it. 

“But I was going to go to…I have plans, I…”

“Bebita, whatever plans you have, consider them canceled. In my studio, by twelve. The limo will pick you up. That’s all.” Valentino finished. 

An overwhelming sense of dread washed over me. Ana’s voice grew louder, nonsense that I couldn’t discern. No matter how hard I tried,  I couldn’t see my way out of this. Anxiety flooded through me and I worried my way through the entire morning. In truth, I had planned on making up the extra steps I was losing by leaving early at the school gym before I went home. 

Just take an extra dose, Ana whispered. And double each dose, even. Make up for those extra steps missed, and the extra calories I was sure I would end up taking in. A sense of relief washed over me. Of course. Ana always knew what to do. 

I walked into my father’s studio, backpack slung over his shoulder. Noticeably empty was my father’s directors chair. On stage, Angel sat on the bed, wrapped in his pink red trimmed robe. I brightened up instantly. Angel was the only employee of my father’s I knew, the only one I had any sort of relationship with. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Angel said cheerfully. He stood up and walked over to me. “Yer Daddy said you were coming in, how’s school?”

I shrugged. “Fine. Where is Dad?” I glanced at the clock. Twelve thirty. I needed to duck out and take that fourth dose now if I wanted it to be effective. “I have a ton of homework and I want to get started.”

“In a meetin’, but you can use my dressing room,” he replied as he sashayed across the floor. 

I followed him and he pushed open the door, ushering me inside. 

“Trust me, your gonna wanna hang tight, Val- er, your Dad’s mood is gonna be good or bad dependin on how this meetin’ goes,” Angel told me. 

I settled myself on the couch and dug around in my backpack. Behind me, Angel took a seat at his vanity and picked up a brush. I seized the opportunity to unscrew my water bottle and pull out the plastic bag of pills. I had just swallowed the two capsule when a hand plucked the bag out of mine. 

Shit. 

“Hey, kid. Whatcha got there?” Angel asked as he held the bag up to his face. 

“Give those back, they’re mine!” I yelled as I jumped to my feet. “Angel, give them to me!” 

Angel ignored me and instead took the bag over to his vanity. I watched in dismay as he cracked open one of the clear capsules and inspected the contents. 

“How many of these did you take?” He asked.

Silence for a heartbeat. 

“Does your Dad know you’re taking these?” Was his next question.

“No, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell him,” I growled. “Angel, give them back!”

He crossed his arms, plastic bag in hand. “Only if you tell me how many you’ve taken today,” he replied. 

“Four this morning. Four at ten. And I just took four. And I need to take another two tonight,” I replied sharply. “Now give them back.”

Surprise shot across his face. “You took twelve of them? Are you fuckin stupid?” He turned back to his desk and started to rummage through it. “Fucking stupid kids,” he muttered as he came up with a bright orange bottle. I watched as he poured the liquid into the cap. “Here, take this now or I’m goin right to Val,” he thrust the medication to me. “Now, or else. I mean it.” 

“Angel! I…”

“I said, now or I go pull your Daddy from his meetin and trust me, he’s gonna be pissed,” Angel shot back. 

I didn’t doubt any of that. Reluctantly, I took the cap and swallowed the contents. “There, now give me back my pills.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he replied. He reached out and grabbed my upper arm. “Come with me, otherwise you’re gonna puke all over my dressin room and I don’t think either of us wants that.”

“Angel!” I protested as he practically dragged me across the studio floor. “Angel where are we…” 

He shoved me into the nurses office and yelled to the lady at the front desk to page Valentino. Without waiting, he opened the bathroom door and shoved me inside. My anger turned to pain as my stomach cramped and I felt his hands pull my hair back as I emptied my belly of its contents. 

“That’a girl,” Angel muttered. “Yeah, get it all out.”

“Fuck you Angel, I’m fine,” I snarled. 

“Yeah, cause I make you puke. If I hadn’t, you’d have been dead in about twenty more minutes,” he replied. “Yer Dad’s on the way.” 

“Oh fuck you,” I snarled as the nurse came in. “I swear I…”

Whatever I was going to say stopped as a wave of dizziness hit me. I felt Angel help me kneel to the floor and laid me on my side. The feeling of hands on my chest, my fathers voice as my reality turned black. 

When I came to, I was sitting upright in a hospital bed. Wires attached to my chest and a plethora of monitors surrounded me. A tickle in my throat and I tried to cough as I raised my hand to itch my face. My fingers hit tape and plastic and I couldn’t Groggily, I strained to hear the noise on the other side of the door. 

“Val, I saw it in the mirror. She was sitting on the couch and she swallowed a few, but I got her to tell me how much she took. I had to make her puke or she woulda…” Angel’s desperate voice. 

“Where the fuck did she find that shit?” My father’s voice growled. “How the fuck did my daughter get ahold of that…Angel, just…” His tone shifted to frustration. Silence, and a sigh. “You did the right thing. Probably saved her. Just go, consider this shoot canceled and take the night. Go to the hotel or whatever it is you do, I need to handle this…situation.”

“Just, will ya lemme know when she wakes up?” Angel’s voice pleaded. “Val, if what she took was what I thought, she coulda died.”

“I know. And I will.” My father’s voice was softer. “Go.” 

Time passed and I felt myself slip in out of consciousness. I was vaguely aware of my father fussing, flashes of Angel, my Uncle Vox and Aunt Velvette. But for the most part I stayed asleep. At some point, the tickle in my throat vanished, but the needle in my arm stayed. It could have been a week, or maybe a day when I could I finally held myself awake long enough to hear what was going on. A few blinks, and I could make out my father’s figure standing next to my Aunt and Uncle at the base of the bed. 

“We’re lucky we caught it when we did, she’s lost some weight. Her bloodwork isn’t great, but it’s fixable. It’s more important now that she connects with a therapist and…” said an unfamiliar voice. 

“Daddy?” Even to me, my voice sounded scratchy. “Daddy?” 

Four heads turned to me. The Doctor walked over and began to check the monitors.

“Good to see you awake, baby girl,” my Uncle Vox said as he brushed away an invisible strand of hair. “How are you feeling?” 

“What happened?” I asked as my father sat on the side of the bed. “Why am I in the hospital?”

“Maybe you want to fill us in,” Velvette suggested. 

The doctor cleared his throat. “I would suggest waiting for the thera-”

“Leave us. This is a family matter for the time being,” my father commanded with the authority only an overlord of hell could have. 

I watched as he instantly turned and walked out the door, closing it behind him. My father turned his attention back to me. I hung my head and after a few moments of quiet, Valentino’s voice filled the air. 

“Let me break it down for you. Angel watched you- from the mirror- swallow two pills. You told him those were the twelfth ones you had taken that day. He, because he isn’t a dumbass and has probably taken them himself, recognizes them right away and forces ippapec down your throat. He gets you to the nurse and you vomit until you pass out. I show up, and we decide that your stomach needs to be pumped. Doc asks me how much you weigh and I realize that somehow, since September, you’ve lost about twenty seven pounds. Tell me, muñeca, how exactly does that happen?”

For the first time since this all began, Ana went silent. Without that voice to guide me, I swallowed back my nerves. 

“I went on a diet. I took diet pills, Dad. That’s what Angel got all mad about.”

“And rightly so,” Velvette interrupted. “All diet pills are dangerous, but the ones you took? They’re ten times as strong. Combined with skipping meals, they’ll wreck your body.”

“And don’t try to tell us you wern’t,” Vox added. “I reviewed the footage. We saw it all, honey.”

I looked down at the blanket. “So what happens now? Am I grounded?”

Silence from the three of them. I felt my fathers hand on mine and his finger tilted my chin up.

“I don’t think you quiet get the point. You almost died, honey. I…” 

I watched an expression I couldn’t quite read flit across his face. He took a deep breath before he continued. 

“Here is the plan. Now that you’re awake, you’re going to talk to a doctor. As soon as you get the all clear, you can go home. We can figure out where to go from then, but for now…for now honey, I’m just glad you’re alive.” 

I reached for him and my father folded me into his arms. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I wasn’t trying to die, I…”

“Don’t be sorry. We’ll figure it out. I promise. I love you, mi amore,” he replied softly. “We all love you. We’ll get through this, I promise.”

[stephstars08]

Sheriff’s Daughter

Dallas Winston x SOC!Reader

Warnings: Adult Language, Sexual References, Adult Themes, Controlling Behavior, Make Out Session, Sexual Contact, Smoking Tobacco, and Possible Grammar Errors. (Sorry if I forgot any!!)

Summary: Y/N is the daughter of the town’s sheriff so she knows a lot about Dallas Winston. Little does she know that she’s got the attention of him. When she finally comes face to face with Dallas her father tells her to stay away but, the hold Dallas has on her makes her disobey her father’s order.

Word Count: 1,639

Author’s Note: Enjoy 😊

Dallas has always been the type of guy that is full of trouble and sometimes that trouble leads to him getting arrested. Dallas always does what he can do to not get caught but sometimes Dally actually gets caught on purpose. Dallas has a terrible reputation with the town’s sheriff. But what keeps bringing him back is the sheriff’s daughter.

Y/N is very close with her father, so she knows all about the horror that is connected to Dallas Winston but when she saw him for the first time she fell right under his spell. She knows Dallas isn’t the perfect guy to have feelings for and no matter how many times she’s told herself that he’s full of toxic right when she crosses paths with him, she falls right back into that trap.

They haven’t spoken a word to each other yet because Dallas is waiting for the perfect time and place.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/N was making her way to the police station to get her lunch money from her dad before heading off to school. Y/N was hoping Dallas wasn’t going to be there. Her crush on the greaser has been becoming more intense than ever. Y/N has been having dreams about Dallas and the most recent one she had things got very steamy.

When Y/N walked into the police station she immediately saw Dallas. He was getting checked out since he’s obviously spent the night in the jail, again.

When Dallas saw Y/N his lips curved up into a smirk. Y/N could feel her heart rate speed up when he started to walk towards her. “Hey, it’s Y/N, right?” Dallas said with a flirty smirk. Y/N was completely in shock since this is the first time he’s ever said something to her. Y/N was tongue tied so she just gave him a nod. Before Dallas could say anything else a stern voice called Y/N’s name.

When Y/N and Dallas looked in the direction of the stern voice they saw Y/N’s father standing there with a stern look on his face. He had his arms crossed over his chest. “I’ll see you around, doll.” Dallas told Y/N with a wink. Y/N watched Dallas Walk pasted her and out the doors of the police station.

“Y/N!” She heard her father say to her again. Y/N looked over at her father. That stern look on his face quickly turned from sternness to anger. “My office, now!” Sheriff Y/L/N told her with sternness in his voice. Y/N walked to her dad’s office with him following class behind her. Y/N walked into the office. “Sit!” Sheriff Y/L/N told her shutting the door to his office. Y/N did what he told her to do.

“What was that I just witnessed out there?” Sheriff Y/L/N asked walking towards his desk. He stood in front of his desk and leaned his back against it. He was standing right in front of Y/N. “Dad, he was the one that came up to me.” Y/N told him. “Don’t give me that bullshit!” Sheriff Y/L/N said in a snappy tone. “I saw the look you had in your eyes.” Sheriff Y/L/N added. “Dad-” Y/N started to say but her dad immediately cut her off.

“No, listen here young lady. I talk you listen.” Sheriff Y/L/N told her standing up straight. Y/N just gave him a nod. She knows not to talk back to her dad. “That boy is bad news. He’s like the devil in disguise and I don’t want my little girl anywhere near him.” Sheriff Y/L/N told her. Y/N couldn’t help but feel like her dad is over exaggerating but of course she wasn’t going to say that out loud to him.

“You are not allowed to go anywhere near Dallas Winston.” Sheriff Y/L/N told her in a demanding tone in his voice. “Do I make myself clear?” He asked her. “Yes sir.” Y/N answered with a nod of the head.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

During the whole school day Y/N couldn’t help but keep thinking about what her father told her, but she couldn’t keep Dallas out of her head either. It was finally the end of the school day and Y/N had to stop by her locker to put some of her books in there. She was walking down the hallway with one of her best friends named Cherry. Y/N is a year older than Cherry, but they do share many classes together and also hang around the same friend group. Cherry was talking about something, but Y/N wasn’t even listening.

When they got to Y/N’s locker she put in her combination unlocking the door. When Y/N opened her locker a folded-up piece of paper fell out. “What the hell is that?” Cherry asked her. “Obviously a note.” Y/N said with a hint of annoyance in her tone as she bent over to pick the piece of paper up off the floor.

Y/N unfolded the piece of paper. “What does it say?” Cherry asked her in a curious tone. “Meet me at the lot after you get out off school signed D.W.” Y/N read the note out loud to her. “Wait, D.W. as in Dallas Winston?” Cherry asked hoping Y/N says no. “Maybe.” Y/N said with a shrug of her shoulders as she folded the piece of paper back up. “Y/N, please tell me that you aren’t going to go meet him.” Cherry said in a pleading tone. “Okay, what is the problem?” Y/N asked with frustration in her voice. “What do you mean what’s the problem?” Cherry asked her in confusion. “Have you not heard about the horror stories that are connected to Dallas Winston?” Cherry said which made Y/N roll her eyes. Y/N took some books out of her bag and put them into her locker.

“He’s the baddest greaser in town. He’s dangerous!” Cherry told her and again Y/N rolled her eyes again. “Glad you believe everything you hear on the streets.” Y/N said finishing putting her books away and looked over at her. “Y/N, I’m telling you that going to the lot to meet him is a bad idea.” Cherry told her. Y/N closed her locker shut. “I’m a big girl Cherry.” Y/N started as she put the piece of paper into her bag.

“I can handle myself and I ain’t afraid of Dallas Winston.” Y/N told her and walked past her.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As Y/N walked to the lot she could feel her nerves starting to pace like they did this morning. Y/N isn’t known to be a shy and quiet girl. When she’s around her friends she’s outgoing but when she’s around Dallas she’s the complete opposite. She knows Dallas has a control over her. This is the first time she’s ever disobeyed her father’s orders.

When she arrived at the lot, she saw Dallas standing there with a lit cigarette in his mouth. When his eyes landed on her he smirked. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and tossed it onto the ground. He stepped on the cigarette and walked over towards her.

“Glad you decided to meet me.” Dallas told her. “I wanted to finish our conversation from the police station.” Dallas added. “Okay, what did you want to talk to me about?” Y/N said in a soft voice. “I actually wanted to ask you a question.” Dallas told her.

Every word that came out of his mouth made her want to melt like a snowman. That thick New York accent that he has definitely has a big effect on her.

“What is it?” Y/N asked him. “I was wondering if I could take you out tomorrow night.” Dallas said locking his eyes onto hers. “Go out as in on a date?” Y/N asked him. “Like a date.” Dallas answered with a nod. He noticed the uncertain look in Y/E/C eyes. “Come on, doll.” Dallas said putting one of his hands onto one of her arms. Y/N looked away from his eyes and at his hand that was on her right arm. “I know you like me.” Dallas said which made her look right back up at him. “Y-you do?” Y/N said stuttering a little bit.

“What? You don’t think that I don’t notice you eye fucking me in the police station?” Dallas asked her. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed, so she looked away from him again. “It’s okay, doll.” Dallas reassured her. He used his other hand to lift her chin up so that she was looking back into his eyes. “Don’t shy, Y/N. Tell me you like me.” Dallas told her as his lips curved up into a smirk. “I like you.” Y/N told him.

Dallas moved his hand from her chin to her cheek. He leaned down and smashed his lips down onto hers which took her by surprise. The kiss started out slow but didn’t take long to heat up. No, this wasn’t Y/N’s first kiss, but this was the first time she’s ever made out with a boy. As they made out Dallas’s hands made their way down to her hips. He would give her hips a light squeeze. When Dallas pulled out away from the kiss Y/N couldn’t help but let out a little whine which made Dallas let out a chuckle.

“What do you say, doll?” Dallas asked her once he caught his breath. “We going out tomorrow night?” Dallas asked her. “Yes.” Y/N answered without any hesitation.

“Meet me back here tomorrow night at eight.” Dallas told her letting go of her hips. “Okay.” Y/N said in a soft voice. Dallas gave her a wink. He turned to walk away but before he took a step he said one more thing. “Oh, and one more thing.” Dallas started. “Wear something sexy.” Dallas told her and walked away.

Y/N watched him walk away. “Fuck, that was hot.” Y/N said to herself.

[theladyofbloodshed]

@nerisweek - Day 5 - Modern AU

The autumn began to encroach on her morning runs. Darkness nibbled at them, taking more for itself each day, so soon she’d have to stop. Not that she was particularly sad about that fact.

Nesta was not a natural runner. She was not one of those absolute weirdos who saw running as therapy or enjoyable. She was simply stubborn enough to force herself into it when her gym hiked the prices to an obscene amount that she refused to pay.

Her usual trail was a quiet dirt path that skirted the edge of a forest with no other life to be found. If her friends knew that she took it in near darkness, they’d kill her. If they knew she jogged with headphones in, blocking out every single sound, they’d kill her twice.

When she reached her mark – a boulder with moss that resembled hair – she knew to turn around. Nesta took a rest on the usual log, inhaling deeply. People who found joy in running were unwell. There was nothing enjoyable about sweaty sports bras or shin splints.

Just as she aimed to rise, a pair of yellow eyes were looking back at her.

She staggered, tripped on the log then ended up arse over elbow. Her back screamed in protest but that was the least of her worries. A massive, black head pushed its muzzle against her face, hot tongue covering her neck while Nesta’s hands got lost in its mass of fur, trying to push it away.

‘Get the hell off of me!’

The dog reared back then sat patiently awaiting her next command. It was more wolf than dog, with thick, black and tan fur, and horrible eyes that never left her face.

There was a collar at least although Nesta couldn’t understand why anybody in their right mind would want a dog, much less this one. They were horrid things that left fur upon every surface and smelt. Nesta shuddered inwardly at the sound of her mother’s voice repeating in her head.

‘Find your owner. Shoo.’

The dog remained staring and panting. Gingerly, Nesta reached for its tag.

‘The goddess of chaos and strife is your owner?’ Nesta gave a sigh as she scanned the forest. ‘Is she dead in a ditch? Go and find her. Go Lassie.’

When he showed no signs of leaving, Nesta had a quick scan of the area – then he did follow her. Each time she stopped, so did the dog. Nesta called the owner four times and the cell remained switched off.

‘Maybe Eris didn’t want you. Shame,’ she said to the dog. ‘Your name isn’t Eris, is it? Eris Vanserra is a strange name for a dog, but my friend, Emerie, has a snake called Sweetcorn, so what is normal?’

At the car, the dog waited expectantly.

‘Oh, no. You’re an animal. Enjoy the wilderness. Run free, Eris.’

They were far out from anywhere except a farm. Against her better judgement, Nesta allowed him into the trunk. The damn beast leapt over the backseats and sat shotgun.

‘You don’t look like an Eris,’ she said, taking the driver’s seat.

Nesta fired off names. Boris, Lucky, Drainpipe, and Jacob Black had no effect whatsoever but Hellhound did make his ears prick.

‘Hellhound it is, my furry friend.’

The farmer reported no lost dogs and suggested a shelter, but he was a scary looking dog and they never fared well. Somebody loved him. Eris Vanserra loved him enough to put a metal tag shaped like a bone on his collar.

‘Who names their daughter Eris and why the hell won’t she answer the phone?’

It had started ringing once or twice as she drove them home, but Eris quickly refused the call.

‘Your owner is very rude, Hellhound.’ Nesta supposed she could keep the dog in her apartment for a few hours. She was working from home besides so she’d be able to keep an eye if he started chewing things. The dog drank deeply from a mixing bowl, clearly thirsty from his days spent roaming the forest. Nesta rushed down to the convenience store to grab a few tins of food, but once she set one down on a plate, Hellhound didn’t move.

‘You cannot be a fussy eater.’

The dog sat upright, but every now and then he gave a whine or shuffled on the spot.

‘Eat?’

Hellhound dived in, demolishing the tin in seconds.

When she sat at her desk to begin work, Hellhound curled up beside her feet and slipped into a heavy sleep. The snoring was irritating, but the warmth of his body next to hers was welcome.

Her phone buzzed.

‘I am in back-to-back meetings. Stop calling. I don’t want what you’re selling.’

Nesta read the text again, frowning at the words. Her fingers flew over the keys.

‘I have your dog,’ she wrote.

When no reply came, Nesta continued with her work. They took two trips outside for the bathroom – Hellhound, not her – then she decided to take him to visit her friends. Gwyn loved animals and Nesta was sure that Emerie wouldn’t mind having the dog until Eris Vanserra deigned her dog important enough to respond.

Once they started their walk, Nesta soon realised that Hellhound lived up to his moniker. She had said the word no more times than she could count, but – to his credit – the dog did listen to her. He stopped his barking and pulling, only letting out the occasional low growl which she quelled quickly. People kept a wide berth from them – which she found that she liked a lot. However, at the sight of Em and Gwyn, Hellhound went berserk again.

‘What’s wrong with that dog?’

Emerie refused to leave the step and Nesta didn’t blame her.

‘I don’t know. He was fine with me. He just hates everybody else.’

‘Has he got rabies?’

Nesta looked for froth around his mouth. ‘He better not,’ she replied. ‘Hellhound, enough.’ He stopped. ‘Sit.’ He sat.

Oh, she liked this.

Her phone vibrated in her back pocket.

‘Excuse me?’

Nesta snapped a photo of Hellhound staring at Emerie with murder in his eyes.

Another text, ‘Is this a ransom?’

This Eris was not the sharpest tool. She gave a light tug on Hellhound’s lead. ‘I’ll take him home. Maybe he’s missing his owner.’

‘I don’t think you should let him in your house,’ called Gwyn from the upstairs window. ‘He’s not safe.’

To show them wrong, Nesta went nose to nose with the dog. He wagged his tail and tried to lick her, but that was all. She shrugged. The dog hadn’t been a problem for her. He just seemed to hate everybody else and looked like he wanted to eat them – but Nesta could cope with that. Mostly, he was at her heels like a lost sheep.

Hellhound was a good boy. He didn’t chew the furniture, didn’t cause chaos, just simply jumped onto the couch beside her then lay across her lap. Perhaps he was slightly too big to be a lap dog, but Nesta found that she didn’t mind.

When her phone rang as they were getting ready for bed, Nesta exclaimed, ‘It’s your mama! Finally.’

But it was not a woman’s voice. The voice was deep and smooth as he said a greeting.

‘What I’d like to understand is how my dog is in your possession,’ he said.

A thank you would have been nice, she thought.

‘He was in the woods past Sunny Skies farm. The one with the sign that has a cow with three legs. Anyway. He seemed thirsty and followed me-’

This Eris interrupted her. ‘My useless brother was meant to feed and walk him while I’m away. Three days ago, he got out. What I meant is, how do you have him in your house?’

Nesta rubbed the dog’s belly which received a grateful wag of his tail. ‘Well, I have a magic device called a car. A few thousand years ago, the wheel was invented and-’

‘He doesn’t go to anybody.’

If this man interrupted her one more time…

‘My brother was terrified of Erebus-’

‘Erebus? You named your dog after darkness? And you are named after chaos?’

She imagined a stiff-lipped man wincing at her tone.

‘How do you know that?’

History that was thousands of years old wasn’t a secret, she thought, but Nesta replied, ‘I work in a library.’

Eris was silent for a long while, so Nesta pinned the phone to her ear with her shoulder and started drawing the curtains while Hellhound made himself comfy. She joined him in the bed.

‘Erebus has been fine with you?’ He asked. ‘He isn’t particularly friendly. He doesn’t like anybody except for me.’

‘Well, he’s currently laying beside me in my bed with his head resting onto my stomach.’

‘That’s odd.’

‘It’s your dog.’

He sucked in a long breath. ‘Look, I’m at this conference for another few days. Can you keep him until then?’

‘Why shouldn’t I just take him to the pound?’

‘As soon as he growls, they’ll have him killed. Please. I can pay you for any expenses – and extra. I’ve had him since he was a puppy. Please. You’ll be paid handsomely.’

The money didn’t matter. This big, ball of fluff that was worming his way into her bed, and her heart, did though. She knew he wouldn’t last long in a shelter.

‘Fine. Three days only.’

‘You are an angel. Thank you.’

In the days that followed, Hellhound was not an issue.

The dog accompanied Nesta on her morning runs and she’d bought a tennis ball to throw so he’d race ahead and return. He dropped the tennis ball into her outstretched hand without a fuss; he never held onto the ball, never growled, just wagged his tail waiting for the next throw. In the days, he’d be beside her while she worked. They went to the library so she could scan in new letters to archive at home and he did his best not to growl once she’d warned him off of it. They took walks in the evening when it was quiet and Hellhound padded along beside her. People kept their distance and Nesta had never felt safer walking through the city. At night, Hellhound had stolen the empty space in her bed – but it wasn’t as if anybody else was occupying it.

No, Hellhound was not a problem. He was an angel.

Eris Vanserra was the problem.

Eris Vanserra was a pain in the backside. She needed paying for dealing with him. Apparently, Hellhound needed a very specific blend of food which was specially made for him. Eris had debated giving Nesta the location of his spare key then decided she couldn’t be trusted as his guard dog was seemingly enamoured by her.  In the end, he sent Nesta scarpering across the city to ensure the dog ate a specific – and ridiculously expensive – brand. It would have been cheaper to feed the dog steak. There was only one type of brush that was good enough for his fur. He was not allowed tennis balls or rope toys and definitely no squeaky toys.

As Eris laid out his rules to her, Nesta looked down at Hellhound who was surrounded by carcasses of plush toys that he’d ripped open to get the squeaker out.

‘We won’t tell dad,’ she whispered. 

Apparently, he was meant to be a guard dog and they weren’t allowed to play. She’d disregard most of his mile long list of rules and regulations.

‘It is two nights,’ Nesta lamented to Eris on the phone during one of his frequent phone calls. They came often – as soon as he had a break in meetings and schmoozing. Texts were more frequent. She felt like Hellhound’s personal assistant.

‘Yes, well you are being paid and your expenses will be covered, as I have already told you.’

‘Tell you what, don’t pay me then I can do what I want with Hellhound.’

That earned a chuckle, ‘Erebus.’ 

Nesta knew what sort of man she was dealing with. He probably had an ex-wife and a handful of kids so this was his midlife crisis now he was experiencing single life once more. Hellhound would make him look fearsome. He was likely used to ordering people around but Nesta dug her heels in.

‘While he’s at Hotel Archeron, Hellhound is allowed as many tennis balls as he likes. The food, fine. But I am not buying fancy shampoo from the other side of the city. He can cope without a bath for a few days.’ Before Eris could cut in with his line about expenses, Nesta continued, ‘Don’t like it? Your brother collects him or he goes to a shelter.’

They both knew it wasn’t an option. Hellhound reacted to everybody else the way he did with Gwyn and Emerie.

‘You sound like a woman who knows what she wants.’

‘Yes, for strange men to stop micromanaging me.’

‘Micromanaging?’ he said on a laugh.

‘You asked for proof of the number on the scale because you didn’t believe I can accurately weigh his food.’

He countered, ‘I care a lot.’

‘Hellhound ate cat shit this morning. Should I have weighed that too, Eris?’

Another deep laugh then, ‘It’s getting late here. I’m delivering the speech in the morning.’

‘Is it about the preferred brand of conditioner for German Shepherds?’

‘He’s a Czechoslovakian Shepherd.’

Nesta gasped theatrically. ‘You’ve only told me that eighteen times.’

‘And still you forget.’

It was enjoyable in a way to annoy him. He made a little intake of breath then a sigh each time as if he wasn’t accustomed to such a thing.

‘I’ll come straight from the airport tomorrow – if that’s okay?’

‘No problem.’

‘Are you in bed too? Can you send me a photo?’

Before Nesta could tell Eris where to go, he amended, ‘Erebus. A photo of Erebus. Not you.’

Those final two words were barked out a little roughly.

When Nesta hung up the phone, she snapped a picture of Hellhound tucked up beside her with the blankets around his jaw. She had never invited a man to her home and it had been a long time since she’d shared a bed with a man although Nesta never stayed the night with them. With Hellhound here, it had been nice to talk to somebody. There was comfort in cosying up together. His tail would wag at her at the first signs of movement before attempting to smother her face with kisses. She would miss her furry friend.   

 The only respite from the stream of messages was when Eris was flying. It also meant that the time to say goodbye to Hellhound was drawing close – oddly, Nesta was aggrieved about that. The company had been welcomed despite her initial misgivings about allowing a dog into the house. The fur was manageable even if he shed like mad.

‘Shall we run away?’

Hellhound gave a long sigh in response.

‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ she said, flopping down beside him on the rug.

Their noses touched and she could see her reflection in his eyes.

‘Don’t you dare lick me.’

When the knock at the door came, Hellhound leapt up. His barks echoed through the empty apartment until Nesta told him to stop and sit. He obeyed her command although he jiggled on the spot like he wanted to continue throwing himself at the front door.

As she opened it, Hellhound started to move.

Her command of, ‘Stay,’ was reinforced by another voice saying, ‘Wait.’

Nesta was not in the habit of inviting men into her home. The few workers that had come to install her washing machine or fix the leaky tap had been watched like a hawk and not offered coffee, due to wounds from the past, but at the sight of Eris Vanserra standing in the doorway, Nesta could feel her morals making a hasty exit.

‘You’re Nesta?’

From that tone, she didn’t know what Eris had been expecting. She certainly had not been expecting a very tall man with big, brown eyes who looked like he went running three times a day. A bunch of flowers – sunflowers – were in his hands and he held a bag with an airport’s name branded across it in his other. Her eyes tried not to stray to the light grey sweatpants he wore.

‘No, I’m somebody else who has your dog,’ Nesta replied, trying not to gape. Not a middle-aged man having a crisis at all. 

‘These are for you,’ he said, gesturing to the bouquet of flowers. ‘Sorry, there wasn’t a lot of choice. And,’ he held out the bag, ‘duty free chocolate.’

‘You know how to spoil a woman,’ she said, then grimaced inwardly. Why had she said that? Was a subconscious part of her trying to flirt?

Eris squatted down. ‘Here.’

Hellhound raced at him, tail thrashing from side to side, as he leapt. Eris hauled him up, bouncing him like a baby. Even Nesta found herself smiling at their reunion.

They entered her apartment to discuss payment and Nesta tried to hide her great satisfaction when Hellhound jumped up beside her and practically sat in her lap rather than going to Eris. He didn’t miss it either.

‘It’s because I don’t let him on the couch. You’ve spoilt Erebus.’

Nesta rolled her eyes.

‘I can’t believe you let him in your bed either,’ continued Eris.

‘Well, nobody else is joining me.’

The words shot out before she could trap them away. Eris smirked at her and added, ‘That’s good to hear.’

Was he flirting in return?

There was no ring on his finger but he was too handsome to be single, she decided. Eris leaned over to pass her a wad of money. Too much money.

‘This is ridiculous,’ she exclaimed.

‘Honestly, when Lucien called to say he’d got out, I thought he was gone. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but Erebus is a reactive dog.’

‘I’ve noticed.’

Eris nodded. ‘He’s an angel with me, but – I don’t know. He hates everybody. I had visions of him getting shot or attacking someone. I’m just grateful that he’s still alive. I’d give you every cent in my bank if I could.’ He watched them both, eyes softening. ‘Why does he like you?’

‘Because I’m a nice person,’ she said. ‘I hate dogs. Well, I did until a few days ago. I don’t know. This one is fine.’

‘A glowing review.’

‘It’s the owner who has driven me insane. You’re like a new mother leaving her baby alone for the first time.’

Eris did not deny it, just held up his hands to plead guilty.

‘Just give me enough to cover the food. Don’t worry about the rest,’ she said, pushing the money back across the coffee table. ‘It’s been nice to have Hellhound here.’

‘Erebus.’

‘Eris.’

Long fingers dragged through his short, auburn hair. ‘I’ll be needing to go on a few more work trips over the next couple of months. If it is not too painful for you, would you consider dogsitting?’

Nesta pretended to mull it over. ‘It would mean I’d need to continue talking to you. I’m not sure if any amount of money is worth that.’

Eris placed a hand over his heart, feigning a wound. ‘At least you can see how deeply I care.’

‘I can,’ she said, running her fingers down Hellhound’s coat. ‘It can be his holiday home where he gets to play with tennis balls and sleep on the bed.’

Eris’ gaze lit her aflame. It was too perceptive as it traced every curve of her face. ‘What if I wanted to see you without the dog?’

The butterflies in her stomach gave a little flutter.

‘He literally hasn’t let anybody near me in six years,’ Eris murmured. ‘I’d be a fool if I didn’t follow the path that fate laid out for me. Will you go on a date with me?’

Nesta saw the hope in his eyes, found that she wanted it to grow. ‘Yes.’

[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).

[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

[pwurrz]

i’m glad i’m not alone in my theory that the crying child died first, and what he saw that was misinterpreted in the eyes of child wasn’t his sister being killed by circus baby, but was more likely someone entering either the spring bonnie or fredbear animatronic. for starters, the only animatronics in fnaf 4 that are seen with mouths on their stomachs are the fredbears. og fredbear would’ve been the only animatronic among the gang to be a springlock animatronic.

it also just.. doesn’t make a lot of sense for elizabeth to die first. if she was, that would mean both her and the crying child (two young children) were at the opening of circus baby’s pizza world (unsupervised, in a restaurant filled with animatronics made for the specific purpose of luring and killing kids). then, after baby killed elizabeth, william would have still allowed his youngest son to go anywhere near the animatronics at fredbear’s family diner (again, relatively unsupervised because you know michael wasn’t doing his babysitting job).

now, i know william is negligent father, but allowing his son to go near animatronics he made and knows are dangerous right after his daughter got killed by different animatronics he made? at that point you’d think he wanted the crying child to get bit. why would william allow his son’s birthday to be held at the fredbear restaurant after one of his kids ran off and got killed at another restaurant? is he stupid? /ref

(also also.. why would william be designing robots specifically to lure in and kill children at that point in time, if none of his kids had even died yet? did he just.. really wanna kill random kids? seems like a boring motivation tbh. personally, it makes the most sense to me that after killing charlie and noticing some weird behaviour in the puppet animatronic that would suggest charlie is possessing the puppet, and after his son was killed by fredbear, he would want to try and recreate the circumstances in which charlie was killed to see if there was a chance to bring his son back. so first he killed the five kids from the missing kids incident and shoved their bodies in the suits to hide them (or the puppet shoved their bodies inside, we don’t know for sure), and then, after witnessing the same weird behaviour from the core five animatronics that he witnessed in the puppet, designed the funtimes with the sole purpose of killing kids and storing them inside themselves.)

i don’t think william became a mad scientist for funsies. i think he only resorted to such crazy methods after losing one of his kids, torn apart by grief and resentment and driven to bring them back, whatever it took.

[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

[bledtitanium]

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

[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.

[rosemaidenvixen]

Witch Hunter

Chapter 15

<Previous Next>

Ao3

TW: Near drowning

There was a lump in Claire's throat and rats gnawing at the bottom of his stomach, even as she fought to keep her shoulders stiff and head held high while standing beside the Reverend and his family in front of the mill. She’d rather be anywhere but here, but her status as the Greystones’ ward was shaky at best, she couldn't afford to do anything that might risk it.

Not to mention declining to show for today’s event for anything less than a life or death reason was as good as a confession.

The Reverend gave them the news last night, and made the announcement to all of Arcadia just after dawn. The event itself being held just a few hours later, after the morning chores and before the evening ones. No doubt the timing was intentional to allow as much of the town as possible to bear witness. 

Glancing across the crowd ahead of them, Claire spotted Jim as he and his mother filed in. Across the crowd the two of them locked eyes. They didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t dare. But the shared fear in their faces said more than words ever could.

More than anything Claire wish that instead of standing here right now, all of them were back home in Spain away from these barbaric customs.

Abruptly the spell was broken when Abbie shoved Jim aside to step into the open space. Shooting a smoldering glare his way.

Claire frowned. What was that about? What had Jim ever done to make Abbie so–

Reverend Greystone cleared his throat and all thought ceased, stepping forward with Goodman Hughes and Thomas Greene flanking him.

A quick nod to Goodman Hughes had the other man scurrying off as Reverend Greystone stepped forward. Thomas stayed where he was, his arms folded standing a respectful distance behind the Reverend, but Claire could still see the tension in his haw, vein at his temple throbbing.

Thomas had been absolutely furious when Sarah was accused. Three men had to practically hold him down while the Reverend and Hopkins lectured him.

Said speech was hours long, Claire only catching bits and pieces of it. But from what she gathered after several hours of honeyed words they were able to convince Thomas that the best way to help Sarah was to let her innocence be tested, and if proven innocent help them hunt down the true witch.

Though based on the way Thomas was clenching his teeth it seemed he wouldn’t accept any answer other than Sarah’s innocence.

Claire wondered if it was too much to hope for Thomas to start an open revolt against Hopkins’ hunt.

“It is to my great sorrow that such measures as this have become necessary,” Reverend Greystone projected his voice to carry across the gathered crowd, all chatter falling silent in an instant.

“But soon enough we’ll finish this necessary work and we’ll have the truth of the matter,” the Reverend glanced to the side, Claire followed his gaze only to have her heart give a twist.

Goodman Hughes led the way as Hopkins headed towards them, Constable Mayhew following just behind, dragging a miserable looking Sarah Parson after him.

Claire had to fight back a wince at her appearance. Sarah was dirty and disheveled, hair uncapped, gray from filth, hanging in greasy tangles around her face. Skin sallow and eyes dull.

Sarah made no sound as she was hauled forward, only managing a low moan as Mayhew dropped her, bound wrists preventing her from breaking her fall. Thomas narrowed his eyes at Mayhew but said nothing

“Good townspeople,” Hopkins wasn’t overly loud, but with the hush of the crowd he was easily heard “We are gathered here to bear witness to the test of innocence,”

He gestured back towards Sarah “This daughter of your town is accused of making a pact with the devil for malicious power,” he crouched down to look her in the eyes “Sarah Parson, have you made any such bargain with the prince of evil?”

She raised her head, a glimmer of heat flickering behind her dull gaze “I swear by the almighty,” her voice was a hoarse whisper “I be no witch, I’ve made no such bargain,”

The already hushed crowd was dead silent, no one even daring to breathe.

Hopkins raised a hand “The accused has made a claim of innocence, we shall now test her word,”

He turned towards Mayhew.

“Throw her.”

Constable Mayhew grabbed Sarah by the arm, Sarah letting out a pained yelp as her arms were strained in their sockets. Thomas opened his mouth and stepped forward but Mayhew was already moving. He dragged Sarah to the side of the mill pond and threw her in with a mighty splash.

Claire’s heart clenched, fingers thumbing absent beads in silent prayer, pleading to Christ, Mary, God in Heaven, even one of Barbara’s spirits. Begging any higher power that was listening both that Sarah would sink and Mayhew would be swift in hauling her out.

The water on the surface of the pond foamed white as Sarah thrashed despite her bound wrists. Slowly dissipating as Sarah sank lower.

Had it been long enough, she was clearly sinking, surely that would be enough to prove her innocence?

Claire risked a discreet glance towards Hopkins. But much to her surprise, instead of his usual stern expression Hopkins was staring at the struggling, sinking Sarah with a small smile on his face.

Every second that passed was agony, Sarah was only a faint shadow below the surface now. Just when she thought they might actually let her drown Hopkins turned and waved Thomas forward “Fetch her,”

Thomas, already bouncing on his heels, hardly needed permission, racing forward and diving deep into the pond without a moment’s hesitation. Just a few moments later he resurfaced holding with the limp figure of Sarah, hauling them both towards shore. 

Mayhew pulled them both onto dry land, soggy and shivering on the lake shore.

“There you have it,” Hopkins turned back toward the crowd “The water has accepted her and proven her innocence, she is not the witch we are after,”

“Did you hear that Sarah?” Thomas gave her shoulders a shake “Your innocence has been proven, you’re safe,”

Sarah’s head lolled to the side limply, spasming as she spit up pond water. Eyes dull and listless.

Goodman Parson hurried over and made quick work of the ropes around her wrists, arms flopping at her sides. Lifting an arm around each of their shoulders, Thomas and Goodman Parson lifted Sarah up and moved her away, a fretting Abbie on their heels. Murmurs and whispers broke out through the crowd only to be silenced by Hopkins clearing his throat.

“Our search for the witch troubling this town continues on. Rooting her out may be difficult, but rest assured, we will find this witch and bring her forward to face god’s justice,” 

Claire dug her fingers into her apron, glancing up to see Jim’s ashen face from across the crowd.

Sarah’s ordeal might be done, but theirs was far from over.