#wait seven more months for isabella | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starswordartblog · 6 years

Text

Magic, Roles and Trust

Quick author note: so, I wrote this for the #Febuqueery event. It was originally made for the day 1 prompt, First Crush, but the fantasy part of it became so pronounced that I decided it would fit day 15 better. It got me out of a writing block and I loved every second of writing it so I hope everyone enjoys it too.

“Sylvia! Look, look, I've found some funny looking bushes over here too!”

The girl jumped through the forest, hair in twin tails bouncing all around with her energetic movements. Sylvia, who walked in a calmer pace behind her, watched her with an amused smile and concerned eyes.

“Please be careful, Isabella,” she said gently, “some plants in this forest are poisonous, and you may get gross bugs climbing up your hand if you touch everything like that.”

“Got it, got it,” Isabella nodded, crouching down to lightly touch the bushes of bright colored leaves that had caught her attention. “I just never thought the forest had so many pretty things! I had read about some plants of course, but it's like there's no end their variety, and the bugs are cute too, and the chirping of the birds is so loud I feel it will be ringing in my ears forever!”

Her face was beaming as she said all that, spinning around to check out more things in the forest. Sylvia smiled awkwardly. Isabella looked so childish sometimes, but who could blame her? She had been raised secretly in a hideout all her life, everything was new to her. Besides, it was actually enviable. Sylvia had never been that exuberant, even as a child.

“But it's really great that you're here with me, Sylvia,” Isabella said, breaking Sylvia out of her thoughts, “with all this variety I have no idea how to find what we're looking for! And as you said there are poisonous things and I'm no good at detecting poison yet so...” she grimaced, side-eying the colorful plants.

She ran to Sylvia and pulled her into a hug. “Say, don't you have some awesome protection spells to put on us? That way we wouldn't have to worry about anything and just have fun!”

“You can't abuse magic that much, Isabella,” Sylvia answered, a bit embarrassed. She used to be more flustered at being hugged out of the blue like that, but Isabella liked hugs so much, she couldn't help but get used to it, little by little. They were warm, soft, and made Isabella's joy fell contagious. “Besides, I don't have a spell like that, I'm sorry. My healing magic might be able to treat the symptoms, though.”

“Aw, really?” Isabella pouted, but then grinned. “Well, then we can learn it together, right?”

“Ah, yes!” Sylvia answered without even thinking, and Isabella hugged her tighter in response before letting go.

“So uh, what are we picking up here anyway?” she asked. “I forgot.”

“Oh, umm...” Sylvia's mind floundered for a moment, stumbling over a dozen nice thoughts on Isabella and her hugs before getting back on track. “Mushrooms. Mom wants to cook some mushrooms from here for a change. The mountains don't have much on food, after all.”

“Oh right, mushrooms. Let's look around then.” She paced around, looking at the ground while mumbling, “mushroom, mushrooms, mushrooming...”

In no moment did she remember to grab one of the baskets Sylvia was carrying to put the mushrooms in, but that was fine. She never found the mushrooms anyway. Only Sylvia, used to the task and to the forest's layout, found them with ease. And she did so with a big smile all the way. Since when were chores so fun, so refreshing? It made no sense, but hanging out with Isabella was good no matter what.

Even though her mother had asked her to keep an eye on the girl, Sylvia doubted she could find it in herself to lift a finger against her if needed.

How naive. How dangerous.

“Isabella, I think we have enough.”

“Aw, really? Even though I couldn't find a single one...” Isabella pouted, circling around Sylvia's full baskets. “You're so good at this, Sylvia.”

“That's because mom taught me since I was little, and our magic is good for detecting stuff. I don't know if yours can do it too, but I can try teaching you if you come with me next time.” Never before had Sylvia wanted someone to accept an invitation so badly. Come to think of it, had she ever invited someone to anything before? She was the meek girl who had always just followed the adults' orders to fulfill her role and live up to her magic.

But to Isabella there were no roles to fulfill. They would teach each other and learn with each other and always enjoy each other's company whenever they met. Equals despite their differences, happy despite the hardships. It was everything Sylvia had given up on having by that point.

She desperately hoped she could keep that bond, unlike so many others she had lost before.

The forest shook with a howl and heavy steps, and she was yanked back to the present moment.

“Why is a beast this far...!” she knew strong beasts lived in the depths of forest and had avoided going too far for that exact reason. Why did it sound like this one was rushing straight in their direction?

At her side, she could see Isabella getting in a battle ready position. But she didn't want Isabella to have to fight. Ever since they met, all she wanted was for Isabella to find something in her magic besides destruction.

For that reason, she quickly summoned her staff and jumped to the front, greeting the rampaging beast with her strongest defensive spell, a shield of magical power coupled with a fierce gust of wind to push the enemy back.

It worked. The beast collided with the shield already too slowed down for any real impact. But it hadn't given up yet and swiped at Sylvia with its long claws. Her spell already weakened, she jumped back clumsily to avoid the attack, but it still brushed her leg, knocking her down.

Then someone viciously struck its arm before it could do anything else. It recoiled, and Sylvia noticed the strands of smoke coming from the attacker, Isabella, whose gloves and boots were torn revealing the rust-like skin of her hands and feet, from where a sinister energy could be felt seeping to the air.

Created by a secret cult of mages who sought the concept of destruction itself as a power, a magic meant to curse, corrode, rot, and ultimately destroy anything. That was Isabella.

And no one should be just that.

The beast growled, glaring at them warily. The arm Isabella had hit would stay cursed and hurt for a long time, but while it had backed down it still looked ready to attack at any moment. It would be better for Sylvia to blast it off before Isabella went overboard. Her magic was too unstable.

“If you won't run away then I won't back down either!” Isabella boasted when the beast readied itself for another attack. Her magic flared as she traced an arc in the ground with her foot, likely preparing a spell.

“Isabella...” Sylvia wasn't liking the way things were going at all, but she did nothing besides weakly crying out her name like that.

Mages were an untrustworthy bunch. They would get corrupted by their powers and lost control, obsess over their own strength, and hurt others for their greater purposes. She had seen plenty who would stand tall and proud as Isabella was doing and boast all the pain they caused as an accomplishment.

Sylvia wouldn't lift a finger against the girl because part of her desperately wanted proof that she could trust her. That she wanted more than to delight in her power, that she wouldn't put the burden on others to mind her ego.

Isabella traced another arc with her other foot, chanting a spell in a peppy tone that did not fit the act at all, “To cross the path of a rising goddess, learn your mistake...”

“...And kneel!”

And she jumped back as her magic overflowed the ground and made it collapse under the beast. A few trees fell in that new made hole, making it even harder for it to get up and climb.

“I did it!” Isabella cheered, then turned to Sylvia. “Hey Sylvia, you're not too hurt, are you? Can you get up?”

“Oh, sorry, I should have dealt with this already,” she answered, taking a deep breath and blowing it out, as part of her healing spell. “I'm okay, my leg wasn't hurt too badly.” She got up just fine to prove it.

“Ah, that's great! Anything else? I've trained to restrict my magic as much as I could but I feared you could still get caught on it!”

“No, I'm fine.” Even though the thought made her anxiety spike. She observed carefully the effects of the spell. The ground below her was fine, unlike the terrain in front of her, that had been broken and eroded thoroughly to the point where it barely resembled the forest's soil anymore. Any plants on it had withered or broken down, including the fallen trees, and even trees that weren't within the area of the hole. The effect didn't seem to have spread far though.

“You did well, Isabella,” she said warmly. The fact Isabella had put so much effort into her control was enough. “Normally your magic leaks so much into the air that it gets full of smoke and it's awful, but now there's so little of it too,” as she said that she pointed at a thin strand of smoke floating, barely visible. It landed on a blade of grass and killed it, but nothing else was harmed.

“I know right, I didn't want to hurt you anymore like that,” she said with a short laugh that didn't reach her eyes. “I, I better stop the rest of it though, let's get going so we don't have to deal with the beast getting up.” She started walking back rubbing her wrists as if it would help stop the smoke seeping out. Maybe it would. Magic control was not an exact science.

Sylvia quickly joined her, picking up the baskets of mushrooms she had thrown back before the fight. “Looks like they're all fine too.”

“I know, I know,” Isabella was sounding hurried all of a sudden, “so let's go back quick. If I'm doing this well then there's something I want to check out back there!”

“Huh? What is it?”

“You'll see, you'll see,” she laughed, “So, before that. Give me a score for this one.”

“Huuh? What's a score?”

“Back at the hideout the teachers used to give a bunch of tests for my magic and grave them with a score of 0 to 100. It was fun! Your mom started doing it too when I told her, so I'd like to get scores from you too!”

“Really? Well, that does sounds like something mom would enjoy... But I don't know, Isabella, what kind of number would be a 'well done'?”

“49.”

“Heey, seriously? It wasn't that bad, I controlled the area of effect just fine!” Isabella protested, pointing her spoon accusingly at the older woman. “I want a breakdown of that score!”

They had returned to Sylvia's home in the mountains, where Sylvia's mom had cooked them a nice dinner with the mushrooms as promised, and now listened about their exploits with her typical, eternally smug attitude.

Yes, Sylvia was right, of course she would be all into the grading thing. That woman was known for two things: being proud of her immense power and knowledge, and teasing those close to her endlessly.

“Break it down, hmm? Then let's see:” she said calmly between spoonfuls of her meal, “for going from fully contained to battle-ready in a moment without problems, 45 points; for minimizing the area of effect although still having no control over the intensity, 30 points; for not realizing the beasts would be more agitated with two powerful mages around than with just one, I'm taking away 10 points. And more -15 for not helping Sylvia carry the baskets.”

“Aah, I didn't think there would be that many subjects...”

“One of these things is my fault though...” Sylvia added.

“I didn't think you'd like to play this, but if you want then you can get those points too, Sylvia.”

“So my score would be just -10?”

“No way, my teachers never gave negative scores...” Wow. They were mathematically proving her mother was worse than a cult. Numbers were amazing. “Hey wait, no way those numbers make up 49. It should be 50, shouldn't it?”

“Should it? Then there may be some other work you did that was worth an extra point.”

Isabella's face lightened up at that, and the woman nodded in return.

“Yay! I knew it had worked at least once! Sylvia, come on, I wanna show it, come, come!” and the girl rushed somewhere.

“Goodness, finish your food first,” Sylvia's mom chastised to no use, and then laughed softly to herself.

Sylvia wasn't amused at all the secrecy. “Mom, what's going on?”, she cried.

“Dear, don't worry, it's nothing bad. Isabella has been training hard lately and wanted to make a surprise about it. As you can see she's really eager about it, so you should hear what she has to say. And, maybe remind her of her food while you're at it.”

Sylvia followed Isabella through a path around the mountain. The whole mountain was her mother's territory and she had lived there for most of her life, but she couldn't remember this particular area being used for anything special. It was mostly just rubble. But looking more closely, she could now also see ashes, and broken pieces of ceramic and other materials not naturally from the mountain. Was mom using this place to dispose of trash?

Isabella had stopped next to a pile of similar rubbish, searching for something. Sylvia hesitated to get close as the smell of ash overwhelmed her, but thankfully, the other girl eventually came back to her after an exclamation of joy.

“There it is, look!”

“A vase?” What Isabella was showing was a small ceramic vase, where a small green and pink plant grew. It looked like it had been through rough times, with some stems hanging low and other cut. “Uh, were all these broken things around vases, too?”

“Yeah. One out of a hundred, this survived.” She held the vase close to her chest, almost hugging it. “Uh, all this time I kinda tried to get inspiration from you whenever I trained my magic, but well, there's no way I can do shield spells, and trying to make gusts of wind would just end terribly, right?” She laughed dryly. “I thought I had no chance on healing spells either, but, your mom said I could do it! It's gonna be really really hard, but if I get my control right I could destroy something's affliction without destroying the thing itself. Wouldn't work for wounds, but, well, we were talking about poison earlier, weren't we?”

“So I've been training, with these sick plants we gathered. And failing a lot,” she added, laughing at the rubbish behind her. “And this one survived this far. It should totally be dead by now, it looked so bad, but now it's actually pretty, isn't it?”

Sylvia took a moment to answer, trying to absorb all of that.

“I love it,” she said, lightly passing a finger on the delicate little thing.

“See? I knew you'd like it! Sorry to keep it a secret, but you're so hardworking and so responsible, Sylvia, I guess I wanted a head start so I could impress you for once. From now on we can train together, right?”

For the first time, Sylvia was the one to start a hug. And oh did she put all of her love on it.

She had asked for someone trustworthy, and what she got was the kindest, loveliest girl, who also put so much trust on her. Isabella was the truly hardworking one here, and if there was one role Sylvia wanted to fulfill, it was to be there supporting her, always.

“Aw, no fair, you know I love hugs, but we can't hurt the little plant here!”

“Ah! Sorry!” she jumped back. So much for being the responsible one. But Isabella just laughed, and they walked back home with the new plant to take care of.

#febuqueery #writing #original story #lgbtq+ writing #lgbtq+ fantasy #this was mostly a test for this new setting and stuff for it is not yet set in stone so here's a bunch of temporary tags:#despero #sylvia of the true sky #isabella the goddess of destruction #sylvia's mom #she'll have a name one day i swear #edit 09/28/2019 #sylvia grett #she has been given a name... finally #wait seven more months for isabella #and for her mom #theodora #theodora the air elemental

3 notes · View notes

beautiful-songbird · 3 years

Text

Valentine Baby

Pairing: Dad!Yoongi x Mom!OC

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 0.6k

Warnings: none

Summary: Yoongi and Rosaelia welcome their newborn the night before Valentine’s Day.

“How do you feel about spending Valentine’s Day in the hospital?” Rosaelia asked softly.

She’d just delivered her son a couple hours earlier, hours before Valentine’s Day started. It was ironic. They’d chosen his name to be Valentine long before he’d been due on the day he shared a name with.

Yoongi chuckled as he cradled his newborn. “I don’t mind. Maybe Isa can come by in the morning?”

“I bet she was disappointed she couldn’t come see him tonight.”

“Oh yeah. She threw a fit when I told her it was bedtime.”

Rosaelia smiled. “I can’t believe we have two kids now.”

“Me neither.” Yoongi paused. “No more after this one.” He pressed his finger lightly into Valentine’s nose.

“I second that,” Rosaelia laughed.

The two of them had planned to have no kids. In fact, it had been something they’d mutually agreed on when getting married. No kids. The two of them had dedicated themselves to being the best aunt and uncle on the planet, but having kids of their own was too scary to fathom.

But then Isabella had surprised them. She’d been their brazen little baby from day one. And they’d decided they needed no more kids then. Isa was lovely, and she was enough to fill their hearts.

And then last June had rolled around. They’d been busier than ever having just welcomed Hobi’s third daughter, and Jimin’s wife had been less than two months from her due date. Rosaelia had started to feel weird, and she’d only felt this type of weird once before. Those two tell-tale red lines were all it took to confirm her suspicions. And she’d been happy. Scared, but happy. Raising a baby once hadn’t been as terrifying as she’d expected it to be, and Isabella would be almost eight when they’d welcome the second baby. That didn’t sound bad at all.

Tonight she was sitting here watching Yoongi hold their son. It was the best feeling in the world to see him cooing down at the sleeping boy. If raising kids wasn’t so much work, she might do this a hundred more times just to see him so happy. And of course, she definitely didn’t mind shopping for baby clothes. Or smiling down at that sleeping baby herself.

“You wanna hold him again?” Yoongi asked quietly.

“Yes please!”

◇◆◇◆◇

It was barely nine the next morning when Isabella came running into the room. Zelda was close behind her with Jiho in her arms and Hyeon holding her hand.

“Appa! We went Valentine’s shopping!” Isabella exclaimed as she held tight to a balloon. She tried to climb up Rosaelia’s bed.

“Oh, you did?” Yoongi asked.

“Yeah! We got you chocolates and a balloon!” the seven-year-old grinned, holding up the two gifts to her father.

Yoongi took them, and Isabella leaned over her mother to see her baby brother. She squealed.

“He’s so cute! Can I hold him?”

Rosaelia laughed. “Of course. Go sit down. Appa can hand him to you.”

Isabella hopped off the bed and crossed the room to seat herself in the chair that was next to the window. Yoongi set his gifts down before helping Rosaelia transfer the baby to Isabella. Isabella grinned widely down at her brother once he was in her arms.

“I can’t wait to dress him up!”

The adults laughed.

“Rosa, I got some chocolate for you too. Figured a nursing mom would like all the food she can get,” Zelda smiled as she handed Rosaelia her gift.

“Ohh! Thank you so much. I’m sure these will be gone in the next few days, though.”

“I’m hiding my chocolate,” Yoongi announced.

“Ok, you do that,” Rosaelia nodded, grinning.

This is part of the Dad!BTS series that can be found here

Valentine Masterlist can be found here

A/N: ack ok this turned out way better than the original draft I’m so happy. Also I’m breaking my “don’t post twice in one day” rule cause this was supposed to be posted 4 days ago at the very least 😃

It would be greatly appreciated if you reblogged the story if you liked it!

Taglist: @jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger @jinnie-forthe-winnie @taehoneycheeks @aianloveseven @bangtansjonas @fly-you-dam-fools

91 notes · View notes

inky-duchess · 4 years

Text

Fantasy Guide to Royal Households and How they Work

When I say Households, I mean the entourage that follows around the royal family. The household went everywhere with them to care for their needs from the people who would empty their chamber pots to their noble companions. Most royal households are basically the same as noble ones, only on grander scale. Every royal had a household and an entourage as well as every noble at court.

Palace Personnel ~ The Commons

The commons were an intregal part of every household. They made up perhaps 80% of the work force. Royal courts were often on the road and never spent more than a few months at every palace. The court was constantly moving. Some positions were not permanent, meaning certain servants did not travel with the court because they were employed at the palace only. They would be paid by the Monarch's paymaster.

Scullion: The scullion was a relatively easy position to fill so they were often changed as the court went from palace to palace. They would be responsible for scrubbing and cleaning the servants quarters and the kitchens. They would scrub floors with lye, scour pots with sand, sweep put the fireplace and clean up after the other servants. They were the first to rise in a castle and tasked to light all the fires in the kitchens. Scullions would just be employed to the palace and serve a multitude of chambers

Laundress: The laundress was responsible for the cleaning of anything made of fabric in the household. Since they are handling unmentionables, they knew what happened behind closed bedchamber doors. They knew when the King visited the Queen or hadn't, they knew when marriages were consummated or not and they knew when the Queen and royal women were not pregnant. They often sold secrets to pad their pockets. Laundresses might be permanent staff but sometimes not.

Minstrels: The minstrel was a commoner hired to play an instrument or sing for the entertainment of the royal. A royal might staff a few at a time but they would always have one on hand. The minstrel would likely come with their masters as they travelled. The minstrel might serve the main royal household but a royal might retain their own.

Cook: The cook was one of the most important servants in the household. They would have the task of overseeing the running of the kitchens and keeping supplies in order. They would likely be on call at all times. Henry VIII's cook was often woken in the night because his royal master wanted a midnight snack. The cook was a valued member of the household and would have been highly sought after if they were a very skilled cook. They would have travelled with the joint. Cooks were apart of the greater royal household but often royals retained private cooks for their own use.

Maidservant: The maidservant cleans the castle. She would sweep the floors, scrub them, empty the chamberpots, get rid of the ashes from the fire and ready the fire for later. She would make up the bed or strip it for the laundresses. She would wash anything that needed washing including furniture and ornaments. She was likely not a travelling servant and would be strictly employed at a single palace.

Jester: The jester was the hired entertainer. Working under the master of revels, the jester had the daunting task of making the monarch and their family laugh. They would tell jokes, tell stories, cause havoc in the court for laughs and lighten the mood. The most successful jester of all time was Will Somers, jester to Henry VIII. Will broke bad news to the infamously bad tempered monarch and got away with things that would have sent others to the block. Will survived most of Henry's reign, his head intact. Jesters would be apart of the main household though each royal might have one of their own.

Positions within the Royal Household ~ Noble

Nobility were always welcomed at court. They eat at court, slept at court and were cared for by the monarch. Some nobles had to sing for their supper and most were hired as royal servants. They weren't exactly scrubbing floors and would be paid handsomely with land that would generate wealth for them

The Steward/Seneschal: This person was the head of the royal's staff. They would have the task of running the lands and servants their master or mistress. The steward served as a backup and assistant in all the tasks even representing their master or mistress when they were unavailable. Would be a high ranking noble. Each royal household would have them.

Treasurer of the Household: The treasurer was the accountant and pay master. They would be in charge of ensuring debts were settled, wages were paid and the household was running within the budget. This was a coveted position because it gave the treasurer insight into the financial situations of the royals. Such info was wroth its weight in gold. Each royal would have one.

Usher: The Gentleman Usher would be in charge of escorting guests into the royal chambers and into the royal presence. They would act as a go between their royal master/mistress and the guest often going back and forth with messages. It was just as coveted as the position of chamberlain but with less responsibilities.

Master of Horse: The Master of Horse was in charge of seeing to the horses of their master. They would oversee the grooms or the stableboy/hands who were employed at the stables to actually care for the horses. The master of horse would ensure that the stables were in order and the horses were up to parr in order to bear royalty across the kingdom. Each royal would have one but there would a main one who acted as overseer.

Master of the Wardrobe/Mistress of the Robes: These are the nobility who are employed to look after the clothes of the royal they serve. This would mainly involve a managerial position, overseeing the inventory of the royal wardrobe (a warehouse like building that housed the clothing) and placing orders for new clothes. It was a tidy job that rarely involved getting the hands dirty. Each royal would have one.

Chamberlain/Valet: The chamberlain is employed to look after the Lord's bedchamber. This was the most sought out position as they effectively were the gateway into the royal presence. Their main task was making sure their boss was comfortable and happy. Could be a well born commoner or a noble. Each royal would have one.

The Page: All royal households had pages. They would be a young noble boy about seven years old sent to their royal master. He would be in charge of tidying up after the lord, carrying messages to other servants and occupants of the castle and serving him at meals. Unlike others on the list, the page would not be paid. His experience was his payment as he would learn the running of a court and how to be courtier. Each royal would have one.

Squires: Squires were like pages though they only served the men. They would accompany their royal master to battle, look after his armour and mail, ensure that his lord's horse was saddled, caring for their master's weapons. The squire would always be a young nobleman on the cusp of becoming a knight.

Governess: The governess is a noblewoman woman employed to oversee the Monarch's children's household. She would be the first teacher a royal child would have and would oversee the nursemaids who would have care of the physical person of the child. She would be appointed when the child was four or five. Notable governesses include Katherine Swynford (wife of John of Gaunt and mother to the Beaufort line), Margaret Pole (wife of Tudor Loyal Sir Richard Pole, sister of the last York heir Edward of Warwick, daughter of George Duke of Clarence and niece to King Edward VI and Richard III), Kat Ashley, Margaret Bryan, Madame de Maintenon and Baroness Lehzen. Most unmarried Princesses retained their governesses while Princes generally outgrew their governesses after they were breeched.

Gentlemen of the Privy Chamber: They were the male companions of a King or Prince, sort of like ladies in waiting but manly. They would accompany the King or Prince everywhere they would go and shared duties with Groom of the Stool (royal toilet paper dispenser) and the Chief Gentleman of the Chamber (overseeing the staff and maintaining the chamber). They would help their master get ready, serve him at the table and organize hunting and games to keep him entertained. Gentlemen and companions where often chosen for their connections as well as their master's own opinion. Henry VIII's gentlemen included: Sir William Compton (ward of Henry VII and heir to rich lands), Sir Henry Norris (the grandson of William Norris who fought with Henry's father at Stroke and a relation to the Yorkists Lovells), Sir Anthony Denny (son of Sir Edmund Denny Baron of the Exchequer) Sir Michael Stanhope (brother in law to Edward Seymour, Duke of Somerset), Charles Brandon (ward of Henry VII and son of Tudor Loyalists)

Ladies in Waiting and Maids in Waiting or Maids of Honour: These are the female attendants to the Queen or Princess. Ladies in Waiting were married while the Maids were unmarried. They would have to attend their mistress wherever she went, help her get ready, keep her chambers in order, write letters for the Queen and maintaining her honour. They were chosen for their connections. Using Katherine of Aragon as an example, her Ladies in Waiting included: Maria de Salinas (daughter of Juan Sancriz de Salinas secretary to Isabella, Princess of Portugal and a Spanish courtier in the service to Katherine's parents, wife of Baron Willoughby de Ersby), Elizabeth Howard (the daughter of Thomas Howard, 2nd Duke of Norfolk, sister to Thomas Howard, 3rd Duke of Norfolk and wife to Thomas Boleyn, ambassador to France), Anne Hastings (daughter of William Hastings, 1st Baron Hastings, wife to George Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury and Lord Steward.), Agnes Tilney (wife to Thomas Howard, Earl of and 2nd Duke of Norfolk.), Elizabeth Scrope (wife of John de Vere, Earl of Oxford, a loyal Tudor lord), Margaret Scrope (wife of Sir Edmund de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk cousin to the King), Anne Stafford (sister of the Duke of Buckingham, married Sir George Hastings, Earl of Huntington and daughter of Henry Stafford, 2nd Duke of Buckingham (cousin to the King) and Lady Katherine Woodville (sister of King Henry VIII's grandmother and his great aunt by her marriage), Elizabeth Stafford (sister to Anne Stafford wife Robert Radcliffe, Lord Fitzwalter and Earl of Sussex around). Their connections are what got them their places and you can see why they were chosen.

Accommodation

Accommodation can be a difficult thing to sort both as a writer and a steward. You might have a palace of 200+ bedchambers in which you must house a staff of 500-/+, a varying amount of nobles, the royal family (of a varying amount) and their own households. When assigning rooms it is best to think of a Russian nesting doll. Start from the inside and work your way to the outside.

The best rooms go to the monarch, their consort and their children/siblings/parent(s). These chambers would include the bedroom, a drawing room/ common area, a privy, a closet (a small chamber that can be used for prayer or work). They would be furnished with the best cloth, the best candles and whatever furniture brought by the resident since most royal courts travelled from palace to palace. They will also have chambers for their personal servants such as ladies in waiting and grooms.

The second best set of rooms would go to the highest ranking nobles/people in the court. These rooms would be less fancy and a little smaller. These would be given to from titled nobility descending from those of Ducal rank (Dukes/Duchesses) or even members of the council such as Thomas Cromwell in Tudor times.

The next set would be considerably smaller, perhaps minus a closet or a drawing room. Given to lower nobility.

The next level of chambers would be smaller perhaps only the bedroom and a common area given to minor nobles.

The last set of rooms would be small and only hold enough room for a bedroom. Servants would have to sleep on the ground on pallets beside their masters.

Any other guests at court would have to stay at off-site locations around the palace in the city. Some nobles at houses around major palaces just in case they arrived late or were kicked out of court.

17K notes · View notes

isadomna · 3 years

Photo

As the children grew from childhood into adolescence, Queen Isabella kept them close at hand. They joined her at war during the turbulent 1480s and 1490s. These were not children who spent their early years frolicking in the countryside. Isabella’s children spent their childhoods at war against the people they commonly called the “infidel.” The campaign against Granada lasted ten years. Isabella’s oldest child, Isabel, named for her mother, spent almost her entire childhood with her parents on campaign, first against the Portuguese and then against Granada. She was twenty-one when the Muslims’ capital city surrendered in 1492. The youngest, Catherine, was seven. Queen Isabella was in a war council when she went into labor with her daughter María. They spent their daily lives surrounded by soldiers who were members of their own extended family or else friends and relations of their friends. When a contingent went off to battle, frequently with King Ferdinand leading the troops, they watched and waited to see who would come back and in what condition.

When the Spaniards accepted a town’s surrender, it was King Ferdinand who typically marched in to receive the oath of fealty from its leading citizens. Ferdinand wasn’t the only one who directly placed himself in harm’s way. Isabella entered at least four cities herself to accept their surrenders, including Almería and Baza. In Baza, she was accompanied by the teenaged Princess Isabel. Infanta Juana joined Queen Isabella at the surrender of Moclín. Prince Juan was part of the contingent at Jaén. When Boabdil surrendered in Granada, the keys to the city were given first to King Ferdinand, then passed to Queen Isabella, and then to thirteen-year-old Prince Juan.

Isabella was not the sword-wielding, front-line female warrior imagined by some. That story belongs to Joan of Arc. She was, however, a recognised mistress of some of the more important arts of war. Strategy, logistics, planning, even field medicine, were her specialities. Isabella realised that front-line medicine could save lives and boost morale, and sent with the army what came to be known as ‘the queen’s hospital’ – large tents and a team of primitive surgeons. It would become a custom. ‘The queen would always send six large tents along with the bedding needed for the sick and wounded; and she sent surgeons and doctors and medicines and people to serve them and said that the costs did not matter, because she would pay,’ explained Pulgar.

The travels were grueling, over steep mountain passes and arid plains, or waded through fast-flowing water, in blazing heat and freezing cold. There were dangerous moments. The mule ridden by the infanta Juana stumbled and was washed down-stream as the family waded across the River Tagus at Aranjuez in 1494. Juana clung bravely to her saddle and, when rescued by a stable-boy, was ‘red as a rose’ and ‘with great spirit’.

The royal family moved on horses and mules, or were carried on platforms borne by animals or men. Attempts to introduce four-wheeled carriages, which Margaret of Austria brought with her, fell foul of the steep mountains, rugged tracks and thoroughly battered remains of Spain’s Roman roads. ‘They are for flat terrain,’ one senior royal servant remarked with evident disdain. The acémilas trudged along in great trains behind them carrying their goods in bundles and chests. Isabella’s accounts books show that Catherine started riding – or at least balancing on top of – her own mule at the age of six. A portable altar allowed them to worship on the road; a contingent of priests, including confessors to the king and queen, and chaplains to the family, accompanied them, holding large crosses aloft as they marched.

Travelling like this, it would have been impossible for the royal children not to have noticed the great variety of peoples in their parents’ lands. The family slept in up to a dozen different towns, cities or monasteries in a month as the monarchs used their travels to assert authority over their lands. That meant listening to petitions and administering justice wherever they went. Fortified castles, palaces, monasteries, the houses of nobles or army camps were all part of the nomadic experience.

Isabella and her family lived with constant wartime risks. On the night of 14 July 1491 at the military camp of Santa Fe, a fire started in the tent that Queen Isabella shared with her daughter Juana. The Queen ordered one of her maids to move a candle that was preventing her from sleeping from one end of the tent to the other. Either something fell on the candle, or the flame [somehow] reached the tent itself, which caught fire and began to erupt into flames.The blaze immediately spread through the tents and primitive thatched huts near by. Shepherding Juana and her servants outside, she encountered Ferdinand running out of his tent in his nightshirt, dagger and sword in hand, cuirass on his arm, thinking it a surprise Muslim attack. One version of the story has Isabella herself grabbing her secret documents before rushing out with them in her arms, the infanta Juana behind her.

Then, Isabella and her daughter, escorted by a page also in nightshirt, went to Cabra’s nearby tent. As the royal children also ran from the fire and men started fighting the flames, the Marquess of Cádiz rode out with his men to form a defensive line in case the camp was under attack. His marquesa sent the queen clothes and all necessaries, and on return he himself relinquished to her his own tent. Yet that night, despite the efforts of the entire army, the fire, fanned by wind, consumed much of the camp. And Catherine was present on the occasion of another Moorish raid known as ‘the Queen’s skirmish’ when the royal ladies, young and old, knelt in prayer for safety.

Sources:

Giles Tremlett, Isabella of Castile: Europe’s First Great Queen

Giles Tremlett, Catherine of Aragon

Kirstin Downey, Isabella: The Warrior Queen

Peggy K. Liss, Isabel the Queen: Life and Times

Antonia Fraser, The Six Wives Of Henry VIII

#Juana de Castilla #Catalina de Aragón #Isabel de Castilla #Fernando II de Aragón #Joanna of Castile #Catherine of Aragon #Katherine of Aragon #Isabella of Castile #Ferdinand II of Aragon #Spanish history #Isabel Tve

107 notes · View notes

hecatemoon87 · 3 years

Text

*Story line branching off from Freddie Jackson / Noel SOSN story HERE

Chapter Three - Two Cockneys, One Bella

It was a Tuesday afternoon and Freddie walked up to an ATM, popped in his card and entered his desired cash amount. Placing the money in his wallet he turned around and came face to face with his cousin, Jimmy.

“Freddie, I thought that was you! Where the bloody hell have you been?” Jimmy said and embraced his cousin.

Breaking the hug, Freddie just shrugged.

“Nowhere, just…doing other stuff,” Freddie said.

“Other stuff? Freddie, we haven’t seen you for seven weeks!”

“Yeah, well I’ve been busy.”

“Alright, you don’t have to tell me. I was just worried. I called and sent you texts, did you lose your phone?”

“Yeah I did, sorry mate.”

As if waiting to make him a liar, his mobile buzzed in his pocket. Freddie hesitated, but decided to pick it up.

“Hi, baby. Where are you?” Isabella’s lovely voice chimed through the phone.

“Hey, Bella. I’m out, gonna be back before you get home.”

“No problem, I was just wondering if you wanted to go out tonight for dinner?”

“Sure, that’s fine.” Freddie said.

“Okay, I’ll see you at home, bye!” she said and disconnected the call.

“New phone?” Jimmy asked, his face showed that he knew Freddie had lied.

“Yep,” Freddie said, keeping up the flimsy charade.

“Bella? Who’s that?”

“My girl,” Freddie replied.

“Is that where you’ve been these past few months?”

“Look, Jimmy, I gotta go,” Freddie replied.

“Oh, come on, Freddie. It’s me. If you had anybody that would understand what was going on, you know it would be me.”

Freddie took a deep breath. He was right. Jimmy had always watched out for him, telling him to calm down and to restrain himself. Hell, Jimmy probably kept Freddie out of jail on several occasions. He supposed Jimmy deserved to know what was happening.

“There’s a coffee shop a block over, let’s go there. I’ll tell you everything.”

The cousins walked silently around the block and into the coffee shop. After ordering their drinks, they sat down at a small table. Freddie decided to go right into it.

“I’m done, okay. I can’t go back, cause if I do, I’ll just do lines of cocaine and drink myself to death. With Bella, I have a chance to do something different, be happy even.”

Jimmy was shocked. This certainly wasn’t the cousin he knew a few months back. Freddie must have been completely sober as the intensity that his cousin normally exuberated was gone.

“Bella…hey, do you mean Isabella? Sarah Harken’s friend?”

Freddie nodded. “Yeah.”

“Blimey, sorry Freddie, but what’s she doing with you?” Jimmy said, only half teasing.

“I wonder that too, mate,” Freddie replied and took a sip of his coffee.

“Well, I’m not going to tell anyone I saw you. You have my number, call me if you ever want to talk. I’m really happy for you Fred, I never thought…well, I’ll be honest, I expected you would end up in prison.”

“I know. That’s why I don’t wanna go back.”

Isabella and Freddie had gone to a nice Iranian restaurant for the evening. She was dressed in a well fitted dark blue dress with short sleeves. Freddie wore black trousers and a light lavender shirt that Isabella really liked. She was really hoping that maybe tonight he’d be able to perform.

Earlier in the week, Freddie had told her he needed to go back to his old apartment and drop his keys off. There was a drop box for returned keys and he had wanted to wait until night to do it. He didn’t want to run into anyone he knew during the day.

They arrived in his part of town, something that Isabella couldn’t believe she would have ever frequented. But her friend Sarah, who had been her childhood friend, ended up living in the more unpleasant part of London. That’s how Isabella met Freddie.

He got out of her car while she stayed inside and waited. Walking up to the drop box, he opened the lid and heard the keys hit the bottom. As he turned around he heard someone shout his name. He turned towards the speaker and gritted his teeth, it was his ex-girlfriend, Jackie.

“Oi, where have you been?” she said, walking over to him.

“None of your damn business.”

She gave him a look of contempt. “What’s wrong with you, I was just wondering where you went off too.”

Isabella saw Freddie’s face when he was speaking to a blonde woman. He did not look happy. She got out of her car to see if he was okay.

“Everything, okay, Freddie?” she asked.

At the sound of Isabella's voice, the blonde woman turned her head to face her. The woman was wearing a tight red dress and heels. She was physically attractive and had a pretty face. Well, if it weren’t for the glare that she now was giving Isabella, she would have been pretty.

“Oh, boy,” Isabella said under her breath.

The woman walked over to her and Freddie was trying to get ahead of her.

“Piss off, Jackie. We’re leaving,” Freddie said.

“Fuck you, Freddie. Who are you?” Jackie demanded from Isabella.

“I don’t think we should get into that…you ready Freddie?”

“You his new slag now? You do know he’s just gonna cheat on you, right? He’s a no good piece of fucking shit!” Jackie screamed at Freddie.

Isabella saw that the old Freddie was starting to come out again. His eyes dilated and his hands clenched into fists. His face had gone pale and his upper lip trembled. She could tell he was going to lose control quickly.

“Oh, okay. Um, so you dated him? Yeah, I see. Freddie, get into the car, please?”

He didn’t respond, he was too focused on Jackie at the moment.

“Freddie?” Isabella said, placing a hand on his arm.

It looked like he had just snapped out of a trance. “What?” he said.

“Get into the car, okay?”

He opened the passenger door and got in, slamming the door hard. Isabella then turned to get back into the car, but Jackie had walked up on her.

“Whoa, calm down. I get that you’re angry, but things don’t need to escalate.” Isabella said.

Jackie was fuming and all of a sudden slapped Isabella hard across the face. Isabella was stunned and she could hear Freddie getting out of the car.

“You fucking bitch!” Freddie shouted.

“You cheating bastard! Now you’re dating some chink whore!”

“Everyone, just calm down!” Isabella shouted.

Her outburst silenced both of them. Isabella’s cheek was throbbing from where Jackie had hit her. She had reached her limit. Isabella stepped out from her car and gave Jackie a hard right hook. Jackie fell to the ground.

“I wouldn’t have done that,” Isabella said, walking up to stand over her, “But no one fucking calls me a chink. Call me whore, fine. But I swear to everything that is holy on this earth, I HATE RACISM!”

With that Isabella turned around and got into her car. Freddie stared at Jackie before getting back into the car.

“Holy hell, Bella…that was amazing! How do you know how to punch like that?”

Isabella put the car in gear. “I take kickboxing classes during the week, also my dad taught me.”

#freddie jackson #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fan fic

25 notes · View notes

lottiebagley · 4 years

Text

7 things- Draco Malfoy

I probably shouldn't say this But at times I get so scared When I think about the previous Relationship we shared

"I hate this," Hermione Granger complains as she drops her bag onto the table opposite her best friend

"And what's this?" The girl speaks with no emotion. She looks almost numb. Clearly tired of everything going on in her life.

"You. You being all sad and depressed. If you like Draco this much just be with him,"

"It's more complicated than that and you know it," she speaks in a harsh tone, her voice low as she glances up to see if Draco and his friends had heard the girl's conversation.

"It doesn't have to be. It's like you guys went through all the drama of getting us on board for like 6 months and then just broke up," Hermione comments, staring at her friend trying to work out what she can say to force her to go and tell her ex-boyfriend she's still madly in love with him.

"Look, Draco decided that I wasn't worth the trouble and that's fine. I am fine. Clearly, he is fine. It's all-"

"Fine you've said," Hermione quips

"Then stop pushing Hermione," she snaps. Hermione's eyes widen a little, not expecting to the reaction but one glance at Draco, who has a slytherin girl from the year below draped across his lap in the library, is enough to let her know that her friends anger wasn't directed at her.

"I can't be here. I'll see you later," she gathers her books, stuffing them into her bag and exiting the library.

Hermione watches Draco, seemingly ignoring his friends as he watches her leave, his usual smirk replaced by a look Hermione isn't quite sure what means but would bet meant he was as in love with her best friend as she was with him.

It was awesome, but we lost it It's not possible for me not to care And now we're standing in the rain But nothing's ever gonna change until you hear My dear

Draco Malfoy was not a stalker, he was not the kind of boy that lurked around just to get a glimpse at a girl. Especially not a muggle born Gryffindor.

He repeats this over and over in his head, willing himself to turn around and walk around while he still can. He could leave right now and no one would ever have to know he was here.

But he couldn't.

Watching her in her quidditch robe, drenched in mud and rain but seemingly happy as she laughs with Fred Weasley, he couldn't just leave. No matter how much he wanted to.

She's walking in his direction, her and Fred at the back of the group but they all walk relatively together. Oliver Wood, who is at the front of the team talking with George, is the first to see him, scowling as he mutters something to George who shoots Draco a dirty look.

She stops when she sees him.

"You go ahead Freddie," she assures

"He's an arrogant prick," Fred mutters, purposely shoving Draco with his shoulder on his was past.

Once the team have retreated far enough to be out of ear shot she lets out a sigh.

"You'll catch a cold standing around in the rain," she comments

"Maybe," He smiles gently before letting out a sigh "I wanted to speak to you though,"

"We share almost all out classes. And they are inside, in the day, where it's not pouring rain,"

"I know that," he snaps, sighing a little "I couldn't talk to you there. I-"

"Oh of course you couldn't. Cause heaven forbid any of your little blood supremacist friends know you want to speak to me. Least of all your new girlfriend, Isabella right? Or is Lilliana this week?"

"Come on. You know they mean nothing," He protests

"They mean enough that you'll be seen with them in public. Which is more than I can say for me,"

"Well I wouldn't wait around in the pouring rain for them," He smiles gently, it drops when the scowl on her face doesn't change

"Is that supposed to be romantic?"

"Kind of," He smirks, she lets out a huff, trying to ignore how much she wants to kiss him

"What do you want?"

"To see how you are," he shrugs

"I'm not your problem anymore Draco. We said we'd both tell our friends and I did and you didn't and then you dumped me. So you don't get to check up on me anymore," she states simply

"I still care about you," he sighs, she could cry on the spot. She forced herself to stop crying over Draco Malfoy weeks ago, but now he's so impossibly close and all she wants is him. She hated that she wanted him.

"Well you shouldn't. Now get inside and warm up before you catch a cold," she demands, he softens, hearing the slight crack in her voice but she slips past him before he can say anything else.

The seven things I hate about you The seven things I hate about you Oh, you You're vain, your games, you're insecure You love me, you like her You made me laugh, you made me cry, I don't know which side to buy

"Mr Malfoy your partner is Miss Y/L/N, go and switch seats with Mr Weasley please," Professor Snape demands, moving onto the next pairing of people.

Draco nods when his friends mutter condolences for being paired with her but on the inside his heart is hammering in his chest as he approaches her.

"Hi," he smiles gently, dropping into the seat me to her

"Careful, someone will see," she mutters, he chuckles under his breath, not wanting to draw any attention to them.

"As long as Lilliana doesn't I'm all good,"

"You like her?" She questions, cocking her head to the side in curiosity.

Draco shrugs, beginning to slice the dandelion root as she works on the bat wings.

"Not as much as I like you," he speaks, she rolls her eyes trying to fright the blush on her cheeks "That was smooth right?" He teases

"Until you ruined it by asking," she smiles despite herself, he laughs, turning into a cough when Theo Nott turns around to look at them in curiosity.

"You really do care way too much what other people think Malfoy," she comments

"Yeah," he nods, surprising her a little when he doesn't shoot her claim down.

"Right. Well. Stop doing that," she stumbles a little over her words. He glances at her blushing cheeks.

He doesn't do anything. Doesn't speak. Doesn't smile. Doesn't scowl. Doesn't smirk.

He just stares at her for a full minute before turning back to the cauldron.

Your friends, they're jerks, and when you act like them, just know it hurts I wanna be with the one I know And the seventh thing I hate the most that you do You make me love you

"What the fuck are you looking at mudblood?" Lilliana, Draco's new girlfriend, spits from under his arm.

She had been staring at Draco, wondering if he was as really happy and wishing he'd cared a little more.

"Not you, but that much is obvious," she snaps back, getting to her feet from the bench on the courtyard she'd been sat, only half listening to Harry and Ron while the group waited for Hermione.

"And now you're going to run off all scared? Pathetic,"

"If you think I'm scared of you, you're wrong,"

"Not quite, I think you're scared of my friends," Lilliana speaks, pulling away from Draco's grip and walking towards the girl "I think you've heard what we do to scum like you and you are scared,"

"Don't talk to her like that," Ron demands, jumping to his feet and Harry doing the same

"Oh, oh Dray isn't that precious? Mudblood's hot herself a boyfriend," Lilliana smirks

"Don't call her that," Harry snarls.

"My, my my, it's a love triangle," she continues.

What hurts the most isn't the words, it's Draco. Draco who is still sat next to Blaise, Theo and Daphne with a passive look on his face.

The girl reaches for her wand but Harry's hand jumps out to stop her.

"She's not worth it. None of them are," Harry grunts, really he means that Draco isn't and she shouldn't let him hurt her, pulling her away with Ron following behind, muttering something about sticking their heads up their asses.

She heard clear as day, Draco Malfoy's laughter ringing through the air. He was truly just like them. Yet, when she glances over shoulder he raises an eyebrow in question asking if she's okay, his friend's blissfuly unaware of the interaction. It takes everything in her to keep her face blank and turn back around.

It's awkward and silent as I wait for you to say But what I need to hear now, your sincere apology When you mean it, I'll believe it If you text it, I'll delete it Let's be clear Oh, I'm not comin' back You're taking seven steps here

She is anxious as she sits in her seat in potions, waiting for Draco to arrive as she bounces her leg. She doesn't know what will happen when he arrives.

Will he act like everything is normal?

Will he apologise for his friends behaviour?

Will he apologise for joining in?

Will he ignore her?

Will he mock her just as they had?

She glances up at the feeling of someone watching her. Eyes landing on Harry who has turned around to see if Draco has arrived, knowing his friend was anxious. He smiles. A comforting and warm smile that she tries to reciprocate although she fears it probably looked more like a grimace.

Draco sits down next to her, immediately his eyes are on her. He can tell she's nervous. Her bouncing leg. Her eyes staring straight ahead. Her bottom lip drawn between her teeth as she chews on it. Anxious habits she hadn't displayed due to his presence in a long time. His heart hurts a little.

He reaches his hand out, placing it gently on her knee to stop the bouncing and is pleasantly surprised when she doesn't pull away from his touch.

"It's just me. You don't need to be nervous," He whispers, butterflies in his stomach when she eases immediately, melting into his touch. Unable to stop herself when she loves him so much

"I wouldn't do anything to hurt you," he whispers.

His heart sinks when that seems to pull her to her senses. She jerks he knee away from him.

"You already did," she speaks lowly and before he can reply Snape has entered the room.

Even when the class are told to work with their partner she remains silent. Draco doing the same. Unsure what to say. Glancing at her and his chest feels tight. He hurt her. He never wanted to do that and god did he love her and everything was a mess.

The class draws to an end and he knows this is his one shot at saying something.

"Look, I never should have ended it. I should have been brave enough to tell my friends- I just- I can't explain it. I'm sorry," He speaks quietly, hiding his voice from the other students in the loud hustle and bustle.

"That's not what I want you to apologise for," She states, shoving her book into her bag.

"Then for what?"

"You let them talk to me like that, you laughed along. That hurt me Draco. You have all this power over them and let you allow them to talk to me like that days after you tell me you care about me,"

She turns on her heel and marches towards her friends who are waiting for her leaving Draco to wonder how he ever thought that anything he was doing was okay.

The seven things I hate about you You're vain, your games, you're insecure You make me laugh, you make me cry I don't know which side to buy Your friends, they're jerks When you act like them, just know it hurts I wanna be with the one I know And the seventh thing I hate the most that you do You make me love you

Draco doesn't see her at all on Saturday although he looks for her at every meal and forces his friends to hang out in the courtyard he knows she likes.

On Sunday though, she seems to be everywhere. At breakfast eating with the twins. By the quidditch pitch as he practices and she goes into Oliver's captains office. Helping Ginny and Luna with some test prep in the library. Flirting with Dean Thomas at lunch.

It's only a matter of time before his friends say something, he knows that, and sure enough when they enter the courtyard Pansy can't keep her mouth shut.

The girls is lounging on a bench, head resting on her hand as she watches the game of exploding snap Harry and Ron are playing from their seats cross legged on the floor. Hermione is sat under the tree next to them, back against the tree as she reads a muggle fiction book. The group look utterly at peace as they enjoy the hot day.

"Oh look, everyone's favourite mudbloods," Pansy groans loudly, drawing the attention of the group.

"Shut the fuck up, Parkinson," Ron snaps, turning back to his game.

"Dean Thomas seems to quite like one of them," Daphne chimes, dropping onto the bench next to Theo a few feet away from them.

"Well he would, word on the street is that her blood isn't the only thing that's dirty. Apparently, she's a whore," Pansy jeers.

At this both Harry and Ron are on their feet, ready to defend their friend as Hermione moves to squeeze her hand comfortingly. What surprises everyone, including the crowd of people watching scene unfold, is that before the boys and Hermione can begin their defensive arguments Draco Malfoy speaks up.

"Shut up Parkinson, just cause you can't get any," He drawls, taking his seat on the bench, eyes trained to the girl who is staring back, utterly bewildered, next to Ron Weasley.

"Merlin Draco, anyone would think you fancied the girl," Pansy smirks, in her mind there was no way the boy wouldn't join in after that comment.

"Just cause I wouldn't go near you with a 10 foot pole doesn't mean you need to be so bitter. Now shut up and drop it," He commands.

Pansy blushes a little but makes one more attempt

"She's a mudblood Draco, what do you care what I say to her,"

"I told you to shut up and drop it, fucking listen to me or leave," He practically growls and Pansy finally gets the hint that he means it, sinking to her seat in humiliation.

The crowd of people watching, all of which are in awe at this point, are only more shocked to see him shoot the girl a smile before turning back to his friends, "You were talking about your mother's latest conquest Zabini," He reminds. Blaise stumbles for a second, confused as to what on the earth is happening but with one sharp look from his best friend he continues with his story.

And compared to all the great things That would take too long to write I probably should mention the seven that I like

Draco is sat alone in the corner of the library, nose in a charms textbook and essay half written in front of him. He doesn't notice anyone's presence and jumps a little when she talks.

"Can we talk?" She asks timidly, looking around the quiet room, it's late and the library is practically empty. He looks up at her with an unreadable expression "Here, I mean. I know we don't talk much in public but-" He cuts off what he is sure will be a nervous ramble

"Take a seat," He commands, it's gentle though. Soft enough she could easily say no.

She doesn't though. She takes the seat opposite him as he puts his quill down.

"What's up?" He questions

"I just wanted to thank you. For defending me earlier and getting her to stop,"

"Well, she was wrong. You aren't a whore and no one has the right to call you that," He shrugs casually

"Would you have stopped her if she hadn't said that? If she had just called me a mudblood I mean?" She asks the question timidly, fingers ringing together on the desk, she stares as she can't quite bring herself to look at him.

"Yes. You were right, I have the power to make them stop and I never did. I should have. I care about you and I like you, merlin I might even love you, and I let what everyone else thought and what they would say stop me from being happy, I do that a lot, but I never should have let them hurt you. I won't forgive myself for that,"

She glances up at him, wondering if she can believe him, but something about the look on his face and the gentleness of his eyes makes her believe him.

"Thank you,"

"I know it's probably too late, but could I ever win you back?"

"Yeah. Easily, lord knows I'm half in love with you already, but I can't put myself through it again. I can't be someone's secret," She explains, he nods "I'll see you around Draco. Thanks again,"

The seven things I like about you Your hair, your eyes, your old Levi's When we kiss, I'm hypnotized You make me laugh, you make me cry But I guess that's both I'll have to buy Your hand in mine When we're intertwined, everything's alright I wanna be with the one I know

The next two weeks the entire school seems to be watching. Curious as to why all of a sudden Draco Malfoy is smiling at her in the corridor. Why none of his friends even look at her funny. Why they are laughing together in potions. The shift in their relationship is the talk of the school and everyone seems to care.

It's a Saturday morning and she is walking towards the black lake where most the school were, her friend group included, having decided to meet them down there after she wrote back to her mother.

Draco is leaving his dorm, on his way to look for her. Draco Malfoy is a man on a mission. A look of determination on his face and a fire in his eyes. Having received a letter from home that morning, full of complaints and faults he was done. He was done trying to be the perfect son. He was done trying to live up to expectations. He was done making himself unhappy. Most importantly, he was done pushing away love.

His eyes fall on her the second he exits the castle, she's a few metres ahead, smiling happily and greeting Neville Longbottom on her way past. Draco can just about make out her voice telling him to come and find her and some other Gryffindors later to join their drinks and party games. It was game night in the Gryffindor common room, something she had told Draco already in potions.

Neville scurries past Draco as he speeds up, falling into step beside the girl. He grabs her hand in his and continues walking like nothing is happening. She, however, stills forcing him to stop too, a few feet in front of her.

"What?" He questions casually, she looks between him and their hands a few times, blinking in confusion.

"Dray," She sighs, she wasn't angry but also she didn't want to be led on. Didn't want to be so close only to have him drop her hand the minute anyone sees.

"I don't want you to be my secret. I like you a lot and you are way too good to be anyone's secret. I don't care what anyone thinks, not my friends, not your friends, not my parents. You mean everything to me and I'm not letting you slip through my fingers, so for merlins sake let me hold you hand while I walk you to your friends," He rambles, unaware she feels like she's floating.

She grins, pressing a kiss to his cheek

"I think you missed," He smirks, she giggles a little, a sound Draco wants to hear on repeat for the rest of his life, before pressing her lips to his.

She pulls away way to quickly for Draco's liking "I like you a lot too,"

"Come back here and kiss me then," he pouts dramatically

"I thought you mentioned walking me to my friends," She teases

"You think you're so funny," he complains, hands gripping her waist to pull her back to him. Chest to chest as she beams up at him.

"No you definitely said it, besides, good boyfriends walk their girlfriends places," she smirks.

"Boyfriend?"

"You know you want to be," She shrugs

"I do," he grins "But from what I heard, good girlfriends kiss their charming and attractive boyfriends,"

"Add the word needy to the description and it'll fit you,"

"And then I get a kiss?"

"It's what the good girlfriends do," She agrees, a teasing smile on her face

"All right. Fine. When it comes to you I can be a little needy, but only for you and you can't tell anyone-" She cuts off Draco's ramble by leaning up and pressing her lips back to his.

And the seventh thing I like the most that you do You make me love you

Masterlist

#Draco Malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x gryffindor!reader #draco malfoy x gryffindor #draco fluff #Harry Potter

179 notes · View notes

ginwhitlock · 3 years

Text

summary: JASPER/ BELLA. set in eclipse (but is so far from canon honestly all you need to know is that victoria is after bella). When Jasper snatches Bella away to Texas to escape a vampire’s hunt for the girl who killed her lover, Bella comes clean about her hearts unfaithfulness on an unsettling summer morning, in front of God and everybody.

fic type: oneshot, no explicit scenes

warnings: religious guilt, Bella’s weird brand of horny, cheating on Edward, oh and Alice just doesn’t exist— don’t think about it too hard

There was this openness in the air, something stirring from the west, saturating the cotton fields. A yellow eyed barn cat stood still in the morning light, it’s black coat shifting with the bite of ghostly mice. Whiskers twitching.

It was watching her, she was sure of it, like the pecan trees and the paddock mud and the mosquitoes. All beady-eyed and searching the brown haired girl, the one with crooked ankles and misaligned bangs that just barely kissed her cheeks in the late summer sun. She looked home grown. Wheat wild. A child of desert planes. And most importantly, she looked lost.

“I thought you’d still be sleeping by now.” A hushed baritone slipped from the screen door, it’s owner donned in dark royal denim and loose leather.

If it had been just months before, Bella would’ve rolled her eyes.

But she was different now. As different as Washington was to Texas. As different as evergreens were to red oak. She swore even the sweat didn’t smell right.

“Wanted to catch the sunrise.” There was a softness to her front teeth, the round of her molars quiet against one another. To whose ears she was catering to she didn’t know. And to be honest, she didn’t quite care anymore.

Bella made out a lazy nod from her peripheral, the shaggy haired man seemingly relaxed out here on the front porch of her judgement day, all tan and tall and scented like rolled tobacco.

Shut up, stupid girl.

Jasper murmured out a response, something about humans needing sleep and southern sunrises being worthy enough to diminish the former from its place on his immortal pedestal. There was a creak and a groan from the haint green floorboards underneath her before she found herself shoulder to shoulder with the two hundred year old soldier; a stray wind had blown through the shaved baby blond hair lining his chin in the slightest of ways. There was a caution light screaming out from his stature and the brunette girl had the painful urge to swallow it under her teeth and tongue. Soak it in holy water and hide it in her skin for him to find. Or rather, Him, if this stay was going to end like she thought it ought to.

He couldn’t feel that… could he? Stupid, stupid—

“The marigolds should be blooming about now, just west of the barn. They’re quite a bit prettier than Peter’s fields.” There was something off in the lit of his tongue, the way it flipped and rolled off his teeth. It came out… wrong. Forced. Like he was trying to be overtly kind. The way you talk to a frightened rabbit you clipped with the lawn mower.

Bella frowned something deep and turned nose at Jasper. “Why did you bring me here, Hale?”

With the question came a wince to his brow, a noticeable blow to his stature. He seemed to fold ever so slightly towards the young girl.

“Don’t— don’t call me that.”

Silence filled the unwalled prison of the porch like nothing else, the birds and wind seemingly gone to rest whenever the two entered into each other's space. Like worldly magnets, chess pieces that threw blows instead of diagonals. The quiet held them both. It held them together.

Bella Swan blinked slowly in an unknown apology before settling back on the blond with the stone facade. She waited for him to continue.

He sighed. “It’s safer here. Victoria wouldn’t come this far south without encountering things far worse than the likes of Emmett or Rose.”

“But this wasn’t Edward’s plan, was it?” Bella’s lashes were like rodeo announcers with their back and forth turns to the outlook of western Texas.

Jasper looked every bit of his one hundred fifty years as he laid a freezing hand on hers, their knuckles slotting together with unpracticed ease. “No. But it’s mine. And you’re gonna have to accept that.”

She refused to nod at the man with the thigh clenching, hard work mending, touch, for more than a second. She was far from the type of girl that would lay down and let the boys run out their wildest stupidities on her seemingly catastrophic life, but she felt almost resigned in Jasper's hands. There was a calmness between them she couldn’t place as artificial or not, the soft wool of contentedness slowly covering the surveyor-ship she felt stepping outside this morning. The stares of the flora and fauna turned internal. Fire burned in the pit of her stomach, on the nape of her neck, across the fragile skin of her cheeks where freckles started to show, and mostly, on the warming flesh of her hand where their hands met gently.

Maybe it was Edward looking onto them from a frozen forest hundreds of miles from here as he hunted a scarlet monster, discovering the hidden plumpness swirling around in his lover's chest for the brother he always worried about, but for all the wrong reasons.

Or maybe…

“Jasper, can I ask you something?”

His eyes were like serpents, glowing yellow under the copper wind chimes above them.

“Whatever you wish, Isabella.”

Swallow. Breathe. “When you were human… did you believe in God?”

A pause sliced the air in two. The cotton plants seemed to stop swaying. The feline vanished. A golden eyebrow fell to his browbone.

“Yes, Isabella. Yes I did.” His face was drawn, distant, like an old time movie screen was playing out on his stone eyelids.

Bella’s lips pulled at themselves with her front teeth. “Do you think He’s vengeful?”

Their eye contact sealed itself, his hand moving on its own accord up her hand to her wrist, cradling the small, delicate bones that allowed her to touch him— but not now. Not ever again.

“When I was a boy, my mama took me to church every Sunday at seven A.M sharp, and sent me to Sunday school after the service. I was the oldest, even then, and I had more responsibilities than just listening to the preacher ramble on about divinity and charity and sacrifice.”

Jasper's face was taught with memory.

“I had two baby sisters by the time I turned seven and they were the number one priority, you have to understand, Isabella. Ada and Caroline couldn’t have been older than three when the Leroy boy died sitting in the pew behind us… poor child got heatstroke in his wool britches and after that I started dressing the girls in the lightest things I could find and never waited long after the sermon to get back.”

Bella turned stormy under the weight of the seemingly young man's words, her eyes dropping from his own to study the way his fingers wrapped around her skin like a life jacket, one part caregiver and one part destroyer. Jasper's own hands seemed to start to tremor just slightly under her stare, or maybe it was from the wash of his own words.

He took a breath he didn’t need. “But. I started listening when my mother got sick, before the girls finished schooling. Started praying. A part of me was guilty that I hadn’t started before I needed something, that the reason I spoke to Him was for a favor, and a big one at that. I was making up for lost time, I thought. I was begging on my knees for anything. And I didn’t get it.

“They buried an empty coffin with my name on it under a white wooden cross after the army said I went missing. Caroline would plant violets around it in the spring, weed out the planters and start again in the fall. She’d leave me communion wafers in our family pew and have Ada try to talk with me through the minister.”

“I’m so sorry.” A true sadness settled in her bones, her seemingly selfish desire to have the question answered sat like a heavy stone in the out of her stomach. Her heart held out a warm woolen space for him and she silently begged he would sit in it, for his own sake.

He waved her off and took on a slight smile, something she had never seen from Jasper. Not in any capacity before that very moment.

She decided she would try to see it every chance she got for as long as he’d let her.

“I wasn’t a man of religious structure, Isabella, but. I was a man of faith. The small times I was allowed to watch over my sisters only reminded me of that, no matter how far down to hell I had reached, I still had faith in redemption.”

His teeth clicked together not unpleasantly. “But I haven’t answered your question have I?” There was a knowing-ness in his voice box and Bella wanted to drink it down like communion wine. She smiled back slightly.

He was beautiful when he sighed.

“I’ve done horrible things. Killed innocent people. Slaughtered children and mothers and lambs of God. I have worn blood on my hands like a second skin and not once during any of it did I feel remorse. But darlin,” his lashes fluttered like leaves, “not once did I think God wanted me to hate myself for what I had done. I think… He forgave me a long time ago, before I ever forgave myself. So no. I don’t believe in my brother’s vengeful punisher. Not today. Not in this lifetime.“ She’d never hear the ‘not with you’ fragment he had stuck in his mind.

She had to step back from him then, the vampire who had become all consuming to her chest and her heart and her fingers. The air was warmer in the space behind him but it almost didn’t matter, the warmth layering her skin was enough to burn through an air conditioning unit anyway. Bella’s hands found clumsy solace in her back pockets as she stared ahead at the rows of painful cotton buds waiting to be harvested. The blood almost pulled to her fingertips.

Teeth and lips found each other. “I don’t think I’m not going to get punished for this.”

Her words were concrete. Cement. Blacktop on a Kansas back road. They could’ve cut glass if she wanted them to. They almost did as he looked at her.

“For what, Isabella?”

Knowing bastard. Always. Knowing.

No trembling allowed now.

“For wanting you when Edwards away. When he’s in the same room as us. When he’s hunting the woman who's trying to kill me and you’re just standing there telling me not to be afraid of my own horrible heart… for betraying everything I’ve begged for since me and your brother met. I deserve to get punished for this, don’t I? Don’t you think?”

She was sweating now, cold droplets running down her back to her the soft slope of her ass. Her knuckles were popping against each other like fireworks and she thought she might faint right then and there, MONSTER written across her forehead in a bruise from the impact.

A scarred hand felt itself into its place under Bella’s chin and forced her rocking skull to finally glimpse the face she had been thinking of every moment she pulled her eyes away. Jasper Hal— Whitlock? And his clear midnight pupils branding her soul in a sinner’s blush. His lips formed a wonderful crook as he slowly pushed her flat against the ancient siding of the old farmhouse belonging to his long standing brother who looked like everything Jasper was except for his spirit.

She could die this way and she would face God with a smile.

“What I feel for you deserves no punishment darlin, but if you insist, I think I’d rather do the punishing than any divine power.”

His lips were light rosy steel against Bella’s own as the clouds started to stretch out infinitely behind his back, unnoticed by the interlocked couple in their wake. A soft moan escaped as felt the soft chill of a crucifix digging into her neck.

Maybe God would forgive her for this. Just once.

#my fic #mine #twilight #thetwilightsaga #fic #twilight fics #my writing #jasper x bella #jasperella #writing #fanfiction #vampire #twilight fanfiction #oneshot

32 notes · View notes

unsteadyimagines · 4 years

Text

What She Doesn’t Know Won’t Kill Her (Spencer Reid x Reader)

SUMMARY: Y/N finds out Spencer has been in an accident and wonders why no one called her as she was understood to be his emergency contact. Turns out... his wife is, which only further exposes shocking revelations after revelations.

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

WARNINGS: N/A

NOTE:

*** Thank you everyone for being so patient!! :)

——-

“Someone please just TELL me something! I’m looking for Spencer Reid, please!” Y/N shouts, trying to attract the attention of a doctor or nurse. Y/N’s head whips all directions, people flying by her assisting others, taking calls and checking clipboards. Her head feels dizzy, her heart beating erratically against her warm chest. Stumbling into a seat in the waiting room, she doesn’t know what to do. What to think, say, or feel. Time feels incredibly slow yet so fast.

“Excuse me, please! I’m looking for Spencer Reid! Someone help me… FUCK!” Y/N yells, gripping her hair in utter frustration. To the others around her, she must have looked completely psychotic, but she didn’t care. All Y/N wanted was to find out what happened to Spencer.

A nurse rushes to Y/N, concern spread on her face. As soon as Y/N sees that she’s coming for her, the only words she is able to shakily proclaims is Spencer’s name.

“Why wasn’t I notified earlier? I had to find out from his mother’s carer! I don’t understand, I- ”

“I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N, but the first person we informed was his emergency contact and due to the nature of his profession, we must notify them immediately so- ”

“Wait… wait. His emergency contact? I-I thought I was his…” Y/N was so confused.

“No, I’m afraid not. I’m sorry but we’re unable to disclose Dr Reid’s personal information.”

After trying multiple times to reason with the nurse only to fail every time, Y/N eventually slumps herself in one of the waiting room chairs, emotionally drained. After a long day of work that consisted of a 12-hour shift, she wanted nothing more than to go home, have a hot, relaxing shower and go to bed. But now with Spencer, all she wants is to know if he’s okay or not.

Y/N feels gross, her hair is a mess, her makeup is oily and separated and her work outfit is crinkled and dishevelled.

Only a few minutes later Y/N hears a pair of shoes hitting the ground, the noise getting louder and louder as the person running comes closer. In walks a beautiful auburn-haired woman, dressed in a pencil skirt, white button up shirt and blazer – the heel of her shoes the reason for the sound.

She too looks just as frantic and chaotic as Y/N did when she entered the waiting room, also receiving the same look from everyone else.

“I’m looking for my husband, please! He came in a few minutes ago. Where is he?!” The woman yells, catching the attention of the same nurse that denied Y/N. The nurse walks to the woman, grabbing her clipboard out once again.

“What’s your name?” The nurse asks.

“Isabella Reid?” The woman confirms, causing Y/N’s to whip around. Her eyes are even wider than they were before, her heart starting to beat a little faster. Did she hear this right? No, surely not.

The frantic woman is taken down the hallway by another nurse, whose comforting her during the walk. As soon as the nurse is free, Y/N rushes over to her again.

“I-I’m sorry but who-who did that woman say she was?” Y/N asks, gasping.

The nurse raises her eyebrows, slight concern written on her face.

“I’m sorry but why would that concern you? Do you know her?”

“You don’t understand, please tell me! Who was that woman asking for Dr Reid? W-was that his emergency contact?” Y/N’s words are so rushed she’s not even sure she could comprehend what she just said. The nurse sighs, putting the clipboard down as if she has had enough with Y/N’s behaviour.

“Miss I am not allowed to just disclose information like that, even if it’s just her name. I’m sorry but I can’t help you.” The nurse dismisses, walking back to the reception desk.

Y/N gives up, afraid that if she were to keep trying, they would just eventually call security and get her kicked out. She walks back to sit in her seat once again, even more confused and hurt than when she first walked into the hospital.

She takes a deep breath, praying that Spencer will be ok. Not being able to have any update on his situation was killing Y/N inside. She only just saw him yesterday, so what had happened between then and now?

Y/N only hopes that whatever happened to Spencer was while he was working, that would give her a somewhat small chance of reassurance that he has been taken care of by the best people there is.

Does she leave? Stay? Y/N puts her head in her hands trying to make sense of everything, the pieces not fitting together or making any kind of sense.

Does Spencer have a wife? An actual wife? We’ve been dating for seven months… how? How is this possible?

Pulled out of her trance, she hears numerous shoes firmly hitting the ground and loud voices talking to each other, getting closer every second. A group of men and women rush into the waiting room. They all look stressed yet calm at the same time, almost as if this isn’t the first time they’ve experienced a situation like this. As Y/N’s eyes are planted to the ground beneath her, she feels like she’s being watched. Trying to appear casual, she very slowly looks up and to confirm her suspicions, she makes eye contact with a man who appeared to already be looking at her, his eyes slightly squinting as if trying to figure out where he has seen her before. Y/N quickly diverts her eyes away in hopes that she would be left alone. Her prayers go unanswered as she hears footsteps making their way towards her.

“Excuse me, miss?” A deep voice softly asked, not wanting to alarm her.

Y/N can’t do anything other than to look up again at the familiar man, suddenly remembering why she recognises him.

It was roughly three or four months ago when Y/N had spent the night at Spencer’s apartment, waking up the next morning to find that Spencer had run out to grab them both a coffee. As she had just finished getting ready to leave for work, she flinched suddenly at the intrusion of a man bursting through the apartment door. Before Y/N could even begin to try and defend herself, the man put his hands up in defence.

“Woah, I’m so sorry! I was looking for Spencer, I-I had no idea he wasn’t… alone.” The man explained, trying to normalise the situation.

“I’m Derek Morgan, Spencer’s work colleague, do you know when he’ll be back? He’s not answering his phone and we have to be on a flight in one hour.” Derek explained, still standing by the door.

Y/N, on the other hand, still frazzled, tried to put words together.

“He, uh – went to get us some coffee a-and left his phone here.”

It was no secret that both Derek and Y/N could feel the unbearable tension consuming the room. Derek’s eyes averted to Y/N’s packed bags and then back to her, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Did… did you stay the night here?” He asks Y/N, trying to seem casual.

“Yeah, I did?” Y/N answers back as more of a question, confused on why he felt the need to ask.

Once again, Derek’s face shows complete confusion, trying to come up with what to say next.

“Morgan! What are you doing here?” Derek and Y/N hear from the front door, Spencer’s face looking alarmed.

“Reid we’ve gotta go, we have a flight to Houston to catch in an hour, let’s go!”

“I’ll meet you outside.” Spencer tells Derek, giving him an awkward smile.

Derek looks from Spencer to Y/N, lighting scoffing to himself.

“It was nice to meet you…”

“Y/N.”

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” Derek makes an emphasis on her name, looking back at Reid before he begins to make his way out of Spencer’s apartment.

“Unbelievable.” He quietly mutters to himself.

Y/N now realises why Derek was acting slightly cold around her, and rightfully so.

“I know you now… know.” Derek emphasised, giving Y/N a sympathetic smile. She feels extremely awkward and cornered right now. Between worrying about Spencer and possibly finding out that he’s fucking MARRIED, she still pretends to act as if she doesn’t know what he’s talking about, hoping that somehow this has been a big misunderstanding.

“I-I don’t know what you’re t-talking about…” Y/N tries to play it off as if she’s confused by his statement, but by the look on his face, she remembers that she’s trying to lie to an FBI agent… and failing. Giving up, she sniffles and decides to come clean.

“I-I had no idea he was… m-married, I swear I wouldn’t have d-done anything.” Y/N stumbles, still in obvious shock.

“I know… I know.” Derek sighs.

“Look… I know you’re probably really angry and heartbroken right now and I don’t blame you, but do you have any idea where he could have been going or if he was meeting anyone?”

“N-no I don’t know anything. I haven’t seen him since… since yesterday morning.”

There’s a long, awkward pause. Neither of them knows what to say.

“Is it true?” Y/N asks to break the silence. In her heart she knows the answer she’s about to receive but that doesn’t make her feel any better.

“Is what true?” Derek asks, looking to her with confusion.

Letting out a scoff, Y/N just wants this conversation to be over.

“That Spencer’s married.” She whispers. She can’t look Derek in the eye, in fear that once he gives her any type of facial expression indicating that she’s right, she’d break down all over again. Actually, come to think of it, that will probably happen regardless.

Derek sighs, slowly nodding his head in confirmation.

“Yeah… he is married.”

Frowning her face in order to prevent the tears from spilling, Y/N nods and once again faces the ground and begins letting the tears fall. She’s in such disbelief that she doesn’t even have the energy to feel embarrassed in front of Derek right now.

“I didn’t tell anyone about that time I saw you at his apartment, especially not Isabella… I figured that conversation should come from Spencer and only him.” Derek says, noticing Y/N flinch slightly at hearing Isabella’s name.

“Look… Y/N, right? The rest of my team as well as other law enforcement are going to be asking Spencer who he last saw before his accident happened. We both know it’s you.”

Y/N knows Derek is right. But now, not only is she worried about Spencer but also terrified of the thought of his wife knowing about her. Granted, Y/N didn’t know Spencer was married and would never have dated him if she did know, but his wife won’t care about that. All she will care about is that her husband has been cheating on her for the past seven months with some homewrecker. Oh my god, is she a homewrecker? Has she now broken up a marriage? What if this Isabella woman solely blames Y/N for her hindered marriage and stays with Spencer?!

“Hey, everything’s going to be okay.” Derek tries to comfort Y/N, reaching for her hands to hold in his. She feels a sudden warmth shoot through the entirety of her body, making her feel the slightest bit better.

“I can’t break up a marriage.” She whispers. Gently pulling her in with his arms, Derek holds Y/N as she sniffles, resting his head on top of hers which is leaning on his shoulder. He can feel small tears beginning to dampen the sleeve of his t-shirt, but he doesn’t mind.

“Derek! Come on, he’s awake.” A slim, blonde woman rushes over to Derek, waiting for him to follow. She looks from Derek to Y/N, slight confusion overtaking her face. Y/N’s head moves to the direction of the unknown woman, along with Derek’s.

“Thanks JJ, I’ll be there in a second.”

Y/N so desperately wants to follow them to his room or ask if she can go with them, but she knew that probably wouldn’t be the best of ideas. She’d have to suck it up and either wait here or just go home. But the thought of not knowing what happened to Spencer is killing her, she just wants to see with her own eyes that he’s okay.

“I don’t think they’ll allow you to come in… but if you wait here for a few minutes, I’ll come back and tell you how he’s holding up.” Derek suggests, a sad smile on his face.

Y/N understands, but it doesn’t make her feel any better. She is, however, grateful for Derek and the fact that he even wanted to help her out at all.

Sniffling, Y/N gives Derek a small, toothless smile.

“Sure, thank you.”

As Derek walks away with the woman she now knows as ‘JJ’, she can hear her quietly ask Derek who Y/N was and how he knew her.

Counting down the minutes until Y/N expects Derek’s return, she’s in a world of her own - bobbing her left leg up and down, twiddling her thumbs and biting her lip. Her thoughts quickly begin to consume her mind. Wondering if Spencer had ever accidentally let something slip out about being married but she can’t think of anything that sticks out. She had absolutely no idea or even an inkling that he was being unfaithful. How long would he have let this continue? Was he ever planning to break up with Y/N for Isabella? Or with Isabella for Y/N?!

“Y/N” A deep voice calls, causing Y/N to spin her head around to see Derek standing near the hallway, leading to all the hospital rooms. Hoping her legs don’t fail her, she shakily walks over to Derek with a palpitating heart, eager to hear what he has to say.

“Is he okay? What happened? Is he hurt? I-” Y/N doesn’t even give Derek a chance to inform her of what’s happening.

“Shh he’s okay - Spencer’s okay. He’s stable. But Y/N, the officers need to speak with you. I had to tell them you were the last person to see Spencer." Y/N's heart sank, especially at the thought of his wife potentially finding out about her and Spencer.

"D-do they know... we were dating?"

"Well, our team and the officers know. I'm sorry, I know you would have preferred no one to find out but I wouldn't be doing my job if I hadn't informed them." Derek tries to explain. Even though Y/N knows he's right, she still thinks of every possible worst-case scenario that can come from her going with him to talk to the police and now no doubt, the rest of his team too.

Y/N's just about to ask Derek another question, but he beats her to it. "Spencer doesn't know you're here, and right now it's important he doesn't, especially until after we've spoken with you."

Derek reaches his hand out for Y/N to take, helping her out of her seat to take her down the hallway he had just come from. As she notices they are walking closer to what she assumes is Spencer’s room, she immediately stops walking, causing Derek to pull back a bit.

“I-I can’t go in there with them, please I-”

“Relax it’s okay, you’re not going in there. We have to take you to the room next door, that’s where we’re going to talk to you.” Feeling a little at ease, Y/N continues to walk with Derek, looking the opposite way while they walk past Spencer’s room, fighting the urge to look through the window to check on him.

The door to the next room opens, inside is a round table with three chairs encircled, one of which is occupied by a man in a suit taking notes, his dark brown hair and eyes look intimidating making Y/N gulp at the sight. Once he sees Y/N and Derek enter the room, he stands up from his chair and reaches his hand out to shake Y/N’s hand.

“Hi, Miss Y/L/N, I’m Detective Madden.” Y/N’s hands are now shaking, Detective Madden’s hand firmly shakes Y/N’s before signalling for her to sit down, along with Derek.

She feels very out of place and scared. Having two intimidating looking men sitting across from her staring intensely isn’t what she expected to happen when all she wanted was to see Spencer.

“Now, just so you know you are not in any sort of trouble, I’m just wanting to talk to you as I understand you were the last person to see Dr Reid before his accident.” Detective Madden informs. It’s only now that Y/N realises that no one has actually told her what exactly happened to Spencer, just that he is awake and stable.

“Can you tell me what happened to Spencer? Please.” Y/N asks quietly, her face desperately looking between the two men for some answers.

“We will get to that, I promise.” The detective smiles sympathetically, before reaching for his notepad and pen. Y/N looks at Derek, who gives her a reassuring nod.

“Now, you told Agent Morgan here that the last time you saw Dr Reid was yesterday morning… and you were notified of his accident by Mrs Reid’s carer?” He asks, to which Y/N replies with a soft ‘yes’ and nodding her head.

“Where yesterday morning did you last see him?”

“At my uh- at my apartment.” She is mortified at the fact that this detective would definitely know by now that Spencer was both married and dating her at the same time.

“And are you close with Dr Reid’s mother? Would that explain why you were contacted by her carer?”

“I was planning to see his mother this afternoon actually, after work. We’re not that close but I just wanted to check in with her. Her carer, Wendy called me about an hour and a half ago before I showed up here and only told me that the hospital called her to inform Diana about Spencer.”

Detective Madden was scribbling down notes as fast as he could, nodding his head every few seconds as Y/N was explaining her recount.

“And did Dr Reid tell you where he was planning to go after he left your apartment? Anything that you remember?” The detective looks at Y/N, waiting for her answer.

Y/N’s tries to remember everything that had happened yesterday, from the second she woke up, afraid that she may miss something that could be important.

“N-No he just said that h-he’d be going back to his apartment… that’s all he said.” Tears start to run down her hot cheeks, blaming herself for not thinking that something was wrong sooner. But how could she have known?

“Now… this may be hard to hear Miss Y/L/N, but we believe that Spencer was beaten up and held for a few hours by a group known as the ‘Unswerving Faith’, a religious group who target married individuals who commit – uh… infidelity.” Detective Madden awkwardly explains, clearing his throat among the awkward silence.

Y/N doesn’t know what to say. Is she the reason this group took him? Hurt him?

“Oh my god… I- Does his wife know?” Y/N asked, fearing for the worst. Derek lets out a big sigh, leaning his arms on the table they all share.

“As of right now, all she knows is that Spencer was taken by a religious group, she doesn’t know their motive behind it. But Y/N, with all due respect, she’s his wife… we have to inform her of what’s going on, including about you.” Derek’s eyes pierce into Y/N’s, making sure she understands the magnitude of the situation.

Y/N’s knows that Isabella needs to know about this, but she selfishly doesn’t want to be stuck in the middle. Throwing her head back in distress, she nods and sighs.

“I know, I just… I don’t want to cause any stress between anyone, especially with the condition Spencer is in.” Y/N tries to explain.

By now, her face is even warmer than before and she’s exhausted. The two men stand up out of their chairs, Y/N following along. Detective Madden puts his notepad in his pocket and tucks his chair in.

“Thank you for your time, Miss Y/L/N.” Y/N smiles and watches him walk out of the room, closing the door behind him so only she and Derek are left.

“I’m going to talk to Spencer, tell him you’re here and what’s going on. Isabella has gone home to grab a few things for Spencer but if you would like to see him before she gets back you may do so.” Y/N’s relieved and grateful for how sympathetic he has been for her, but she’s also slightly scared for what is to come.

She obviously wants to see Spencer and see how he’s doing, but in a way, she feels like it might be… wrong? Now knowing he’s married – she doesn’t want to ruin a marriage. Well, by the looks of it, it didn’t seem to be going all that well if Y/N is in the picture.

Before she can try and talk herself out of it, she quickly tells Derek yes before making her way out of the room with him walking besides her. Her heart rate starts to increase again, she’s trying to plan out what she’s going to say to Spencer. Does she tell him that she knows he’s married? Does he already know that she knows?

They walk a few feet before Derek halts in his spot, looking at Y/N. He slowly nods to the left, indicating that they had reached Spencer’s room. Y/N gives Derek a small, grateful smile, taking a big deep breath in. She softly knocks on the door, slowly walking in and shutting the door behind her. She’s met with curtains but she’s now somewhat hesitant to draw them. Y/N feels her eyes already begin to water and she hasn’t even seen Spencer yet.

Quickly counting to three, she whips the pale blue plastic curtains back and sees Spencer laying in his hospital bed, reading a book in a language she wouldn’t have the slightest guess in what in. This makes her smile slightly, but when Spencer notices the other presence in the room and meets her eyes, she’s back to feeling helpless and distraught.

Spencer doesn’t look nervous to see Y/N here, which concerns her a little, considering that Isabella would probably be back very soon. If anything, his shoulders relax and his smile melts Y/N’s insides. She forgets about being mad at him, pissed off, hurt. Seeing Spencer in such a vulnerable state with a loving look in his eyes is more than enough for her to forget about the bigger issue she has to face. Spencer opens his arms out, various different coloured cords moving with his arm. Walking quickly into his arms, Y/N is careful not to move him too much, in fear of increasing his pain – how ironic.

“Spence, I’m so glad you’re okay.” She mutters, her face buried deep into his warm neck, calming down at the sounds of his heart beating. In the back of her head, she is constantly trying to remind herself of what he’s done to her and to his wife, suddenly squeezing him a bit tighter at the fact that this may be one of the last times she’s able to be held in his arms ever again.

From his bedside table, Spencer’s text tone goes off, signalling he had a text message. Leaning back, he grabs his phone for a few seconds skim reading the message before placing his phone back on the table and clearing his throat.

“Hey, you know… you don’t have to stay, it’s going to be boring for you here; besides, I’ll probably sleep the day away” Spencer chuckles, his eyes darting around the room.

Y/N’s heart drops and she immediately recognises what’s going on. She assumes that Isabella is not far away – it explains Spencer’s sudden anxious demeanour. She wants Spencer to know that she knows about him being married, but she also figures that right now probably isn’t the right time.

“Oh- um, yeah okay. I-I’ll see you soon then… right?” She asks. There is now a weird tension floating in the air. It’s turned awkward.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll see you later babe… okay.” Spencer chuckles, giving Y/N a faint smile, leaving a light kiss on her cheek that she can barely feel.

“I-I love you.” She tells him, making her way to the door, turning back to him and giving him a small smile. Her chest hurts when she realises that he’s not going to say it back, he’s just waiting for her to leave. Opening the door just enough for her to fit between, she closes it right behind her.

Derek and Detective Madden are nowhere to be seen, which works out better for Y/N, considering she couldn’t possibly be in the mood for conversing with anyone any further. She’s in too much pain. Pain she doesn’t know how it will ever subside.

As Y/N turns a corner around the hallway, she sees Isabella and a man dressed in all black, loudly whispering to each other. They both appear angry. Y/N quickly throws herself back around the corner into the wall, in fear that Isabella may have seen her.

While trying to figure out a way to leave the hospital without her seeing Y/N, although Isabella doesn’t know who Y/N is, that’s besides the point. Loud, angry whispers are coming from the other side of the wall, prompting Y/N to lean closer towards the edge, listening.

“You idiot, I didn’t pay you for this! What have you done!” Isabella yells, her eyes wide, glaring into the eyes of the man. Y/N remains frozen, scared to try and leave but also wanting to hear the rest of what she’s about to say.

“I-I’m sorry, it was a massive understanding… we didn’t mean to-” a voice stumbles yet cut off by Isabella’s raging voice once again.

“I don’t care! I asked you to take her out! Not Spencer you fucking idiots.” Y/N’s eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of her head. Isabella had people hurt Spencer?

Y/N’s breath becomes shallow and she can’t stop her chest from rapidly falling up and down, her hands begin to tremble, and it feels like her legs may give out any minute.

The man stumbling over his words looks like he has seen a ghost, so in fear of Isabella’s wrath. Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She refused to believe that Spencer’s own wife would hire people to hurt him, or by the sounds of it, they weren’t meant to hurt Spencer, but someone else. A woman.

“I-I’m sorry Issy… we will not fail you this time. We’ll get the bitch don’t you worry… we can’t let her continue to poison and destroy this sacred union.” The man declares firmly. Y/N’s body begins to heat increasingly, she has a feeling she knows what they’re talking about… and who they’re talking about. She desperately wants to run to Derek or someone who can help her but there’s no one around anymore, the quietness of the empty hallway was something she didn’t notice before.

Leaning her head against the wall, Y/N tries to form some type of plan – of how to leave, where to go, who to talk to and what she is to do. The uncertainty of the situation has never made her feel so unsafe and vulnerable. Her scattered thoughts are disrupted at the sounds of many footsteps getting louder. Peering over the corner, Y/N sees about five other men make their way to Isabella and the man, dressed in black also. All the men now have their faces covered with a hoodie, whispering to each other before looking at Isabella. Y/N tries her hardest to hear what Isabella is about to say, but as soon as she does – her heart sinks, her body goes into overdrive and she feels like she may collapse.

“Find the slut. Do with the bitch what you will.” She directs firmly. Y/N’s heard enough to realise that Isabella knows about her and has ordered these men to hurt her, presumably the same men who hurt Spencer. Y/N’s eyes are frantic, trying to decide who to turn to for help.

She’s so scared she doesn’t even want to move, fearful of them hearing her shoes against the pale tiled floor. Spotting Derek on the other side of the hallway, a significant number of metres away, Y/N can’t feel her legs move – her head is screaming at her to run and seek help from Derek but her legs physically won’t allow her. It’s as if they have been glued to the floor. The blood inside her body has turned extremely hot and her head is pounding, Y/N is in a total trance that she can’t get herself out of. The room around her is suddenly quiet, her ears are ringing in a shrieking high pitch and Derek only looks further and further away from her reach.

Y/N’s ears are now filled with the shuddering sounds of the all too familiar footsteps of the people who are in charge of her pain, getting closer and closer to the other side of the hallway where she’s hiding, it’s enough motivation for her to pull herself back to reality.

In order to calm herself down and think rationally, she leans her head against the hard wall, working out her plan of action hastily. Her eyes squint hard against their sockets, drowning in a black swirl of nothingness.

Opening her eyes with a somewhat haphazard plan in place, she eyes off Derek, remembering her plan of escape and exactly what she needs to do. Just as Y/N was about to take the first painstaking step running towards Derek, she feels a vigorous pull, a thick hand gripping onto her flimsy shirt. Retracting back into the wall with a thud, her eyes lock with those of a man – one of the men from the group talking with Isabella. The Unswerving Faith. Before she has time to scream or shout for help and thrash, a warm, grimy hand clawed its way to Y/N’s mouth, her cries now muffled and soft. Y/N’s limbs ache as she continues her attempt to thrash and kick at the man gripping her for dear life, but she can slowly start to feel herself give in to his strength.

The physical, emotional and mental exhaustion from today had finally caught up with her, only, it came at what was probably the most unfortunate time, because as Y/N looks over to Spencer’s door, Isabella is just about to open it, looking straight into Y/N’s eyes, her smile growing creepily wider as she sees the distress in Y/N increase. Giving her a spine-chilling wink and small wave, she enters his room and shuts the door.

Y/N is in such a traumatic state that she doesn’t even realise that the thick hands that were once wrapped around her, gripping her skin harshly, had disappeared. With all the strength she could muster inside of her, she screams for Derek, her eyes filling with tears blinds her. Just as Derek runs to Y/N she collapses in his arm, sobbing and muttering incomplete and incoherent words over and over. The initial shock combined with her exhaustion finally takes over her. Her heavy eyes struggle to stay open, her muscles severely weak. She sees the man, eerily staring into her rolling and blurred eyes, making his way to Spencer’s room, shutting the door and closing the blinds.

That’s the last thing she sees in her fragile state of mind before she is snapped back to reality by Derek, painfully left wondering what would happen to her… and what would happen to Spencer in that god awful room.

Tags: @emmalvei-blog

187 notes · View notes

whataperfectwasteoftime · 3 years

Text

Welcome to my masterlist!

Fics with smut are marked with **, though this whole blog is 18+, so as a general rule, minors should not interact or follow me!

My asks are open for prompts or requests, plus you can always come yell about stuff you like, or send thots!

As of October 2022, I am no longer using a taglist. Follow @pennyswriting and click “Get Notifications” to be notified when I post fics.

Everything is also cross-posted on A03.

Penny's Kinktober 2022

(Hey, where are Lavish and Control?)

Born to Run** (Marcus Pike x f!Reader) [Complete!]

Marcus is sent on a vacation to a cozy cabin on a wooded bike trail by his coworkers after his devastating breakup with Theresa. You are training for your upcoming marathon on the same bike trail when one of your runs is interrupted by a creeper on the trail, and you are ‘saved’ by a handsome stranger with a tragic (recent) past… Content Warnings: BDSM

Common Grounds** (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Stop me if you've heard this one: a handsome stranger walks into a coffee shop.

Forgive These Bones I'm Hiding | Part 2** (Serial Killer!Marcus Pike x Police Officer f!Reader)

When five paintings are stolen from their frames, an unusual crime for your small-town precinct in Hannibal, Missouri, it's easy for you to project your insecurities about being a female police officer in a tiny, Midwest town onto the handsome FBI Agent from Washington who arrives to help with the case. But as your disposition--and the solid walls you've built around yourself--begin to soften, you quickly find you have bigger problems than the charming man you can't help but develop feelings for. One by one, bodies are starting to pile up. Bodies that all seem to share one connection… You.

How to Kill an Immortal** (Marcus Pike x OFC) [Complete!]

There is a strange magic that surrounds the life of Marcus Pike. Born in Medieval York in the 1300s, he realizes that he is not aging like other people. For seven hundred years, he wanders the earth, falling love over and over again due to his caring nature. When a new art theft case takes him back to York, Marcus searches for a way to bring an end to his unnaturally long life, so he can finally be at peace.

Intimidation Tactics** (Marcus Pike x you x Dave York) [Ongoing...]

You and your partner, Marcus Pike, are investigating a case that brings you far too close to something much more dangerous than your average art thief.

le Palais des Roses** (Marcus Pike x f!Reader) [Ongoing...]

A Moulin Rouge AU

The Rift** (Marcus Acacius x Marcus Moreno x Marcus Pike x Reader)

Again, Again** (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Marcus comes home to surprise you with lunch. In the end, who's the most surprised? Content Warnings: Contains CNC

All the Time in the World** (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

You’ve never been able to climax without the aid of a vibrator. Due to your insecurities and internalized shame, you rarely involve any toys during sex with a partner, and have been “faking it” for years. You and your new boyfriend, Marcus Pike, have been taking your relationship very slowly–building up a beautiful connection without ever having seen each others’ bedrooms. Two months in, neither of you can wait any longer. How will Marcus react when he discovers the thing you consider to be your deepest, darkest secret?

The Art of the Double-Cross (Marcus Pike x Reader)

“People have been trying to solve the Isabella Stewart Gardner museum theft for decades,” she says quietly, putting her hand on his arm. “Decades, and yet you find the one detail everyone else had overlooked.”

Best Bike Crash Ever (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

After a hit and run at a crowded intersection, you are suddenly very intrigued by your rescuer–the cute FBI Agent who just happened to be a bystander.

The Crucible** (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Marcus Pike’s latest case takes him undercover to a BDSM club. When he’s called to participate as a dom in a scene with an unattached sub, will he be able to keep his focus on the task at hand?

Everything** (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Marcus is obsessed with your ass.

Lead Me Not Into Temptation** (Priest!Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

[Based on the prompt: "Priest Marcus Pike, praying next to the bed he just annihilated a pretty parishioner in"]

No Net Ensnares Me** (Victorian Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Co-Written with @littlebirdsbookshelf

Of All the Gin Joints...** (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

You and Marcus are both trying to re-enter the dating scene after bad relationships, and you’ve been set up on a blind date. You really hit it off, but after a few dates, it seems like Marcus is being really distant. Before you can ask him about it, you run into someone from Marcus’s past…

Pizza Comes Third** (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

You’ve harbored a crush on your partner in the FBI Art Crimes Department for ages. When he accidentally knocks over your purse and a recent sex toy purchase falls out, how will he react? And how does acclaimed boy-scout Agent Marcus Pike know anything about nipple clamps?

Spilled Ink (Tattoo Artist Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Uhhh Marcus Pike as the world's softest tattoo artist that's it that's the fic.

Spring Fling** (Marcus Pike x virgin!f!Reader)

When you and your friend, fellow pre-Law student Emma, plan to go to Washington DC for spring break instead of the typical beach destination, she makes plans for the two of you to stay with her estranged father for the week to save money on lodging. You never expected Emma’s father, a man she says she’s barely seen throughout the years, to be so sweet, so troubled, and so unfairly pretty. Neither did you expect for what you’d thought was a one-sided attraction to turn into a spring fling… or maybe something more.

What A Pair We Make** (Marcus Pike x f!reader)

A series of short scenes depicting a very loving growth and evolution of a dd/lg relationship with Marcus. Content warnings: dd/lg

Date night**

It's me (I'm the problem)

Pregnancy sex with Marcus**

Slow Dancing [Iron Chef 30 Min. Challenge #1]

First Time BDSM Ask**

Kelli's Unhinged BJ Ask**

Marcus Kink Prompts Masterlist (Ask Game)**

Soft Dom Marcus (Brat-Taming Ask)

Intimidation Tactics** (Dave York x you x Marcus Pike) [Ongoing...]

You and your partner, Marcus Pike, are investigating a case that brings you far too close to something much more dangerous than your average art thief.

Pitch Black** | Part 2** | Part 3** (Dave York x blind!OFC)

Dave York is a DIA operative by day, and a contract killer by night. When he has a chance encounter with an innocent bystander on the stairs and chooses to save her from a band of rival mercenaries, will he be able to stop himself from getting too involved?

Judo and Other Love Languages** (Dave York x f!Reader)

Dave has the hots for the Judo instructor at his gym and joins a beginner Judo class just to get in her pants ask her out.

Judo Dave Ask** (Dave York x f!Reader)

It was supposed to be a one time thing.

Reckless** (Dave York x f!Reader)

Letting a strange man buy you a drink isn’t something you’d normally do, but once again, you’re going through your reckless phase. You also wouldn’t normally let him guide you to a quieter booth, sitting too close and talking in your ear, with one finger occasionally grazing your shoulder, just enough to cause you goosebumps. You especially wouldn’t invite said near-stranger back to your place after several more drinks and a surprisingly deep conversation about love and loss, but like you said–reckless.

Ropes (Valentine's Day Exchange)** (Dave York x f!Reader)

“What are these for?” you ask, examining the hook. Dave’s smile is a sly one. “For the ropes.”

Special** (Dave York x virgin f!Reader)

You’re part of the newest class of interns at the DIA. Told to either sink or swim, can you stay afloat long enough to get everyone’s coffee order right, deliver reports to the correct offices, and juggle the attentions of the gorgeous man in office 712, the only person at the DIA so far who’s given you the time of day?

Stay With Me** (Dave York x f!Reader)

You’re Dave York’s ‘favorite’ analyst at the DIA. You’re also an Omega. When you go into heat during an emergency situation, can the two of you keep your mutual attraction from coming to a head?

The Violence of You** (Dave York x f!Reader)

You’re so fucking predictable. You have a bad night, and you come crawling to him, the only person who can take all this pain inside you and do something with it.

Bekväm** (Ezra x OFC)

Modern!Ezra AU. Ezra may have a nefarious past, but after escaping a long imprisonment (minus one appendage), he wants to rebuild and start over. Literally. Having no belongings of his own, he orders an apartment’s worth of flat-pack IKEA furniture. Unable to put it together himself, he searches Craigslist for someone to assemble it for him, and gets more than he bargained for.

Trigger Points** (Massage Therapist Ezra x f!Reader)

Ezra is a massage therapist. What kind, you ask? Internal massage.

The Rift** (Marcus Acacius x Marcus Moreno x Marcus Pike x Reader)

#look friends i made a real masterlist!#and also a taglist #does this mean i'm a real fic writer now?

748 notes · View notes

alj4890 · 4 years

Text

Angst Prompt

(Liam x Riley) with the prompt of Riley getting shot in another country while Liam was in Cordonia and it have been ordered by King Bradshaw as requested by Anonymous.

A/N Oof. What a way to knock me off my fluff kick, LOL. This isn't a part of my AU's but let's see what I can do for your prompt, Nonny. This takes place after the Bradshaw/Isabella mess but before Barthlemy's challenge. I guess I will ruin that brief moment of peace, LOL.

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @hopefulmoonobject @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight

Masterlist

News

The Royal Palace, Cordonia...

"Here we go, princess." Liam settled his seven month old in her swing. "How about you help your father with reading through these proposals the Council is considering?"

Eleanor smiled around the teething ring she had put in her mouth.

Liam pressed a quick kiss to her cheek then started the swing.

He settled behind his desk, finally feeling a sense of calmness. With all the ups and downs he had gone through since his brother's abdication, he rested in knowing that he, his family, and country were at last entering into a season of peace.

He intended to keep it that way.

The gurgles and coos from Eleanor drew his attention. She waved the teething ring a few times before putting it back in her mouth.

He chuckled at her antics.

He was enjoying these few days of one-on-one time with his daughter. Riley had been asked to be the guest of honor at Lancelin St Clair's fashion grand opening. The renowned designer had created a place where his creations could be not only sold, but created specifically for the customer.

Lancelin had completely renovated a four-story building in Paris's Faubourg Saint-Honoré district, turning each floor into one with a definite purpose. The first floor was a shop that housed various sizes of his most popular creations. The second floor was part runway/part design on demand for the shopper looking for something completely original. The third floor would debut his new bridal line. And the fourth was set as his personal work area/apartment for when he needed to stay late and work on his designs.

All this was to be shown to the public to set off Paris's fashion week.

Since Riley had walked his runway during Liam and Madeleine's engagement tour, he had invited her to be part of his grand opening. Ana De Luca was traveling with Cordonia's queen to do an exclusive spread of Riley in some of the dresses Lancelin had made specifically with her in mind.

It was just the sort of news the people of Cordonia would enjoy after months of uncertainty.

****************

"I really don't want to go without you and Eleanor." Riley told Liam the night before she left.

"I don't want you to either." He held her close. "But I have to meet with the Farmers' Association about the progress of the apple orchards." He pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "I've already had to reschedule twice with them. They need to see I take their concerns seriously."

"I know." She sighed. "And I know that Eleanor would distract everyone from Lancelin's moment." She eased out of his embrace. "This will be the first time I go out without you or any of our friends."

Liam took her hands and tried to ease her worries. "You will do great." He smiled at her. "You charm everyone you meet. I believe I am proof to your effect."

Riley shook her head before kissing him. "If anyone is the charmer, it's you."

He chuckled while tugging her toward their bed. "Do you want me to find someone to go with you? Penelope or Kiara perhaps?"

"No thanks." She snuggled closer to him. "I wish Hana was well enough to go. She was looking forward to it."

Liam gently rubbed her back. "With Maxwell in Hollywood and Drake in Texas, we don't have anyone left."

"I wish Olivia was back." She muttered.

"Amalas needed her expertise." Liam reminded her.

"I know." Riley sighed again. "If I can't have you with me, I do tend to depend on the others to be there. I need to learn how to stand on my own."

"The world will once again be amazed by Cordonia's queen." He kissed the top of her head. "You'll see."

********************

Liam glanced at his desk clock. It was nearly time for Ana's live report of Lancelin's grand opening.

His princess had fallen asleep in her swing, drawing another smile from him as he carefully lifted her out. Cuddling her close, he sat down on one of the sofas and turned the television on.

Finding the right channel, he relaxed as the first images appeared.

Cordonia's Queen Riley has been given the honor of walking the red carpet first. Lancelin St Clair awaits, giving her the shears to cut the ceremonial ribbon.

He readjusted Eleanor in his arms as he watched his wife's bright smile flash towards the cheering crowd.

Ana continued to detail what they would soon see when shots rang out.

Liam stood up, causing Eleanor to whimper at being rudely awakened.

Ignoring her fitful cries, he watched as the camera caught his wife and Lancelin falling to the ground.

Then the feed went dead.

"BASTIEN!" Liam shouted over Eleanor's wails.

The head of the King's Guards hurried inside while talking on his phone. Regina rushed in behind him.

"Give me the baby." She insisted, gently taking the fussy little one in her arms. She left the study, allowing Liam to be able to focus on what Bastien was saying.

"And the shooter?" He asked. "I see. Where is her majesty being taken?"

Bastien wrote down the information. "Keep me updated."

Once he ended the call, he faced Liam.

"What happened?" He demanded.

Bastien cleared his throat. "A lone gunman shot both Riley and Mr. St Clair."

"Is she alright? Have the plane prepared. We must get there as quickly as we can!"

"Sir," Bastien hesitated. "I must insist you remain here. The gunman was killed by one of our guards. We don't know if there is another and--"

Liam shoved past him and called the airfield. Declaring it an emergency, he then rushed to tell Regina.

"Liam." She teared up as she took his hand. "Be careful and call as soon as you know more."

"Your majesty, I insist you remain here while I go to Paris." Bastien followed after him. "Once my team has investigated, I can then guarantee your safety--"

"Do you honestly think I give a damn about my safety?!" Liam rounded on him. "My wife was just shot! She is alone in another country and hurt. If you think I will sit here behind these so called protective walls, then you do not know me at all." He went back to his study and quickly packed his briefcase. "Now get me to the airport."

*****************

Early evening, Paris...

"Her majesty is at one of the private hospitals." Bastien explained as the car continued through the city. "Interpol is working with us to identify the shooter."

Liam stared blindly out the window. "Is my wife conscious?"

"She was." Bastien tried to explain. "She lost some blood from her wound and--"

Their car stopped at the front entrance.

"Liam!" Bastien shouted as the king didn't bother to wait on guards or to check that it was safe.

The young king ran inside, pausing long enough to ask where he should go.

"Je suis le roi de Cordonia. Ma femme a été amenée avec une blessure par balle. Où est-elle? Est-ce qu'elle va bien?" He said quickly.

"Elle se repose dans la chambre 138, Votre Majesté. Dr Miller a dit--" the receptionist blinked when he took off running once more.

Liam slid on the freshly waxed tile floors, barely catching himself as he followed the signs.

A doctor and nurse were just leaving Riley's room when he arrived.

"My wife," Liam gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Is she alright?"

"Oui. She was struck in the shoulder." He paused as both King's Guards and Interpol Agents joined them. "We removed the bullet while she was unconscious."

Liam reached for the door handle as the others began to question the physician.

He paused at seeing his wife laying there, looking so fragile.

One of the first things he had first noticed about her was her inner strength to face any obstacle she encountered. He realized he had taken that he had taken that for granted. The only other time he had seen her like this was when she collapsed during Eleanor's birth.

Liam knew there were only a few things he feared in this world. But those few things centered on something specific: his family.

He could face an entire firing squad and not bat an eye. But let it be Riley or Eleanor that was to be threatened, and he could not take it.

He collapsed in the chair by her bed and pressed a kiss to her fingers. Bowing his head, he waited by her side until she awakened.

****************

A few hours later...

Liam stood up when Riley became restless. Soft cries escaped her lips as she slept. He reached for the buzzer.

Explaining that his wife was in pain, he waited for a nurse to come in.

Bastien entered first.

"Have you learned anything about the shooter?" Liam asked in a low voice.

"We have." Bastien stopped the nurse.

He and an Interpol agent patted him down and checked the IV bag of morphine he held.

They stepped back and allowed him to tend to Riley.

Liam watched him replace the bag that had been on a slow drip.

"Can she have more?" He asked as she cried out again.

"Yes sir." He showed Liam the button he could push if she needed more, reassuring him that it wouldn't administer any past the dosage she could have. He increased the flow and left.

Riley's eyes barely opened. "Liam?"

He went back to her bedside. "I'm here, my love."

"My shoulder." She sucked in a painful breath. "What happened?"

"A man was in the crowd." Liam gently explained, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "He shot at you and Lancelin and--"

Her eyes widened. "Lancelin! Liam, he was bleeding so much!"

Bastien cleared his throat as he stepped forward. "He is in intensive care at another hospital, mam."

He pointed at the right side of his chest and mouthed lung to Liam.

Liam frowned some before turning back to Riley.

"Where's Eleanor?" Riley asked, turning her head. "Did you bring her?"

"No. Regina is watching over her at home." Liam eased down on the bed. "Do you need anything? Is there something I can do to make you more comfortable?"

"No." Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him. "Liam, if...if I had died...you...my baby..." She began to cry.

Unable to take her in his arms, Liam did his best to comfort her. He wiped her tears while speaking in a calming tone that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. That she was safe. That they would soon be home with Eleanor.

Riley tried to calm down but she shook her head. "We'll never be truly safe, will we?"

Liam paused in his assurances. He felt exhausted from the trials they continued to face. Should he now fear peace, knowing it would end horribly in some new threat?

Running a hand through his hair he spoke of what he did know. "No one is ever truly safe, my love. Even if we were locked away somewhere, accidents can happen. Sickness can strike. Bad things happen just as good ones do."

She sniffed and closed her eyes. "I know you're right," she opened her eyes and met his steady gaze. "I just wish we didn't keep having trouble."

"I do too." He cupped her cheek and softly kissed her. "All I need to know to make it through our trials is that you and Eleanor are taken care of." He struggled with swallowing. "I should have been there today to protect you."

She weakly raised her hand and caressed his cheek. "Then you might have been hurt or..." She couldn't finish that sentence. "I can't lose you, Liam."

He nodded, kissing her again. "I refuse to lose you." His words came out in a harsh whisper. "I will find who did this and will make certain they never do so again."

Riley rubbed her cheek against his hand and closed her eyes.

Liam relaxed once he saw her drift into a peaceful slumber.

"Sir?" Bastien motioned for him to step outside.

"What did you find?" Liam asked.

"The man was a hired gun from America." Bastien began. "But he was born in Auvernal."

Liam's eyes narrowed. "And who hired him?"

"King Bradshaw."

********************

Cordonia, a week later...

Riley was rocking back and forth with Eleanor sleeping in the crook of her good arm. She heard voices outside the nursery door. Curious, but unable to hold her daughter properly, she remained where she was.

A few moments later, Liam slipped quietly inside and smiled at her.

"Is she down for the night?"

"She fell asleep long ago, but I wasn’t ready to let her go." Riley let him put Eleanor in her crib. "I missed her so much. I'm so thankful to be home with you both."

"Nowhere near as much as I am." Liam wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I heard voices earlier. Is everything alright?"

He nodded. "Everything is fine."

Riley chewed on her bottom lip. "You never told me what was found about the gunman."

"There wasn't much to discover." He told her.

"Was he just some crazy person or was he hired by someone?" Riley prodded.

Liam let her go and motioned for them to leave the nursery when Eleanor made a disgruntled, sleepy noise.

"I don't want you thinking anymore about this." Liam insisted. "We are taking care of eliminating the threat."

"Eliminating?" Riley's brow furrowed. "But that means he was hired--"

"I want you to rest."

His nearly cold evasiveness alarmed her.

"Liam," she reached for his hand. "Please talk to me. I can handle whatever you have found."

Remembering how upset she was in the hospital, he averted his eyes. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Her lips parted to insist. She shut them when he escorted her to their chambers.

"Do you need anything?" He asked after helping her change.

"No." She murmured.

He covered her up and began to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" She sat up in surprise.

"I have somethings that require my attention in the study." He explained. "I'll be back in an hour or so."

She quietly watched him leave, feeling even more uneasy than before.

*****************

A little after three in the morning...

Riley awoke when she felt the bed dip down.

"Liam?"

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to wake you."

She checked the time. "Are you just now coming to bed?"

"Yes. It took longer than I planned." He stretched out beside her.

"What did?" She demanded, turning a lamp on.

She gasped when she noticed his bruised face and bloody knuckles.

"What happened? How did you--"

"It's nothing." He winced as he tried to get comfortable. "I'll be fine."

"Liam!" She snapped. "Talk to me." Her eyes narrowed. "Now."

"I took care of the one who tried to take you from me." He snapped back.

"So there was someone else involved?"

"Yes. And he will never have a chance to hurt anyone again." Liam declared.

Riley gently touched his face. "Liam, you didn't..."

"I wanted to." He admitted. "I was so close to beating Bradshaw to death." He closed his eyes at that memory.

It would have been so easy. A few more strikes, a quick twist and the king that had caused Liam’s world to nearly crumble would have had his last breath.

"I allowed Interpol to take him." He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. "Olivia found all the evidence we needed to make certain the only way he will ever leave prison is to attend his own funeral."

Riley blinked back tears.

She then punched Liam in the arm.

"Riley!" He sat up when he noticed her shaking with rage. "What--"

"How could you?!" She screamed. "How could you risk your life when you already had everything in place to arrest him?!"

"He tried to kill you!" Liam yelled back. "All because we caused him embarrassment." His eyes narrowed. "Did you think I would do nothing to the man who set out to take my wife from me? Take my daughter's mother?!"

"He wasn't worth you taking a chance on him having a weapon or one of his guards kill you! What would Eleanor and I do without you here?" Tears fell, nearly blinding her. "How could you risk our family?"

All of Liam's anger disappeared at hearing that she had his own fear. Gently pulling her close he silently held her as she cried. His own tears mingled with hers as he thought of a life without her.

The sun was beginning to rise as their tears came to an end. They still held to one another, speaking in low tones of their life together. An occasional hitch in one's words caused the other to try and comfort the one temporarily unable to speak.

As light crept through the drapes, the two remained upright, still clinging to the one they loved.

Riley lifted her head off his shoulder. "Eleanor will be awake soon."

"Yes, she will." Liam pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead. "You should rest. I'll take care of her."

"I'll help you." She hugged him close with her good arm. "I don't want to be apart from either of you today."

His arms tightened around her. Unable to say all that filled his heart, he simply nodded while muttering that he didn't either.

She pressed a tender kiss to his lips and smiled. "It's a new day, my love. A new day just for us."

#choices the royal romance #choices the royal heir #liam x riley #king liam #liam x mc #trr liam #trr riley #trh liam #choices stories you play

81 notes · View notes

neurodihuegent · 3 years

Text

turning thirteen

a birthday fic for the three birthday boys <3

Characters: Huey Duck, Dewey Duck, Louie Duck, minor mentions of other characters

Words: 2285

Summary: April 15, 2021: The day of Huey, Dewey and Louie's thirteenth birthday.

(text under read more)

Today, Huey is 13.

He didn't really feel different. Whenever his birthday rolled around, he was excited that he was getting older, but stopped anticipating a major difference between the day before his birthday and the day of.

Turning 13 made him reflect a lot: He was finally a teenager. He'd be around that age to move up to seventh grade in a public school, except he hasn't gone to public school in three years.

These past three years, his entire perception of his family, his core beliefs, his own self, had completely flipped.

His entire life, he grew up only knowing his brothers and his Uncle Donald as his family, and he knew that Uncle Scrooge existed, but never pieced the connection until the day they met. But now, it seemed like everyday, he was finding out about a new family member and Webby's elaborate family tree was enough to give him a headache.

Ever since he joined the Junior Woodchucks back when he was seven, he seemed almost physically incapable of functioning without a Junior Woodchuck Guidebook at his disposal. He personally didn't see an issue with it as it gave him the knowledge he needed to maneuver through everyday life, especially living with a constantly adventuring and danger facing family, but he also knew that he started to become co-dependent on it even though he had more than enough knowledge now to function on his own two feet. It wasn't easy, and the book is still a huge source of comfort to him, but now he's able to distance himself from his book in times where he needs to think on his feet rather than waste time flipping through the pages of the book, waiting for an answer.

Not to mention, his final encounter kind of tainted his view of the Junior Woodchucks: He knew that Isabella Finch and the Junior Woodchucks by extension had little to nothing to do with Bradford's plans, but her insistance on bringing him to adventure is the trigger that put him and all of his loved ones in danger in the first place. The Junior Woodchucks always had a special place in his heart, and he was eagerly awaiting the day for him to give a second attempt at becoming a fellow Senior Woodchuck with Violet, but he also found himself becoming less and less excited with all of the Junior Woodchuck activities he participated in following that day. It pained him, really.

Then, his anger: This was something he never thought he would've addressed again following that one day, just mere weeks before they met Uncle Scrooge for the first time.

Uncle Donald and his brothers were always aware of his anger, but they never knew the full extent of it until that day. Whenever Huey even got the slightest bit angry, he felt himself losing his grip of control on any situation, and there was nothing scarier to him than not being in control and being able to work his way out of something with a clear mind: So he chose to hide it. He chose to bottle it up inside, no matter how much it physically drained him or how overwhelming it became, it was the only alternative in his mind.

But then he spent that day in Swanstantine with Lena, trying to concoct ways to combat Steelbeak, and he had to come to terms that tapping into his anger was the only way to get a favorable resolution on their side. So he did that: He became one with the alter ego he created in his mind to shove his anger to the further depths of his brain, one that was dubbed "The Duke of Making a Mess" thanks to Dewey trying to make light of that one time he blew up in front of his brothers and Uncle Donald, and he.... controlled it. He didn't let the unhinged nature of this anger consume him, and he was actually able to create an equilibrium between the personality he was okay with people seeing, and the personality he was more insecure about than anything. And he'd be forever grateful to Lena for that.

He grew one inch in height, not that it held any significance considering Dewey grew two inches. As long as he was still taller than Louie, who didn't seem to have grown through any significant change of height, he'd come to terms with Dewey being the tallest.

Today, Huey turned 13, and the more he thought about it, he definitely wasn't the same person he was around this time last year. Physically, he didn't feel any different, but mentally, he definitely grew from the person he was the day Uncle Donald dropped him and his brothers off at Uncle Scrooge's doorstep. And maybe that was a good enough reason to celebrate.

Today, Dewey is 13.

Dewey counted down the days until he would turn 13 ever since he learned how to count past ten. It was a huge milestone to him, as he was finally a teenager. But now that the day was here, it felt a bit underwhelming. Maybe he expected too much for the first day, but he didn't feel any different than how he felt the night before when he was still twelve.

He remembered he left an envelope stashed in his pillowcase, one that was designated to be opened only on his thirteenth birthday that he had written when he was nine. He scrambled through his pillowcase, praying that it hadn't slipped out and gotten lost, until his hand made contact with a piece of paper. Dewey didn't have the best memory, so he honestly had not idea what to expect when opening this letter.

He unfolded the top part of the letter, revealing the title "Dewey's To-Dew List By 13".

He fully opened the letter, and found himself tearing up when he read the first, and only thing on the checklist:

1.) Find my mom!

Growing up, his brothers were often under the impression that Della had passed away and Uncle Donald just didn't like talking about it, but Dewey always had a feeling that it wasn't the full truth. He came up with plenty of crazy conspiracies, such as her getting kidnapped by the government and kept under protection in Area 51, but all of them were somewhat comforting to him: It was better than believing that the mother you always wanted to know, was long gone.

But then his mom came back, and all of these years of having doubts and questions were subsided. He loved having his mom around, especially with how they seemed to click with each other almost instantly, and if it weren't for her influence, he never would've discovered that he enjoyed piloting as much as he did.

When the mom he spents years wondering about, and a year searching for came back, he should've felt satisfied then and there: Except he didn't.

Uncle Donald always made it blatantly clear that he loved all three of the boys the same, and would stand by them no matter what, but sometimes that reassurance wasn't enough for Dewey. He wasn't Huey, who had so many accolades under his name only by the age of ten, and he wasn't Louie, who had a personality that could charm an entire crowd of people. He was Dewey, and it took a long time for him to come to terms with that.

It took a while, but Dewey had realized that he was special, in a way that was unique to his brothers. When it came to adventures, sometimes Huey would get too caught up in trying to calculate the perfect plan, and Louie would get caught up in his anxiety, but Dewey always liked to face things head on. Maybe it wasn't the best tactic, but it was one that earned him the title of "tougher than the toughies" for a reason. His overflowing confidence in nearly all ways of life, was something that both of his brothers lacked in different ways, and that's what helped him stand out rather than blend in as "the third one".

Dewey held the letter close to his heart, reminiscing on the kid he used to be. His confidence never faded away no matter how he aged, it was a staple of his personality for as long as he remembered, and one that he cherished the most.

Today, Dewey turned 13, and he knew he was the same person: his stubborn mind and determined heart remained the same. Yet, something felt different. When he was nine years old, he never could've imagined this life for himself, especially in regards to his mom. But now, even though he'd never admit it, he could actually rest with some peace at mind: That he was good enough, that he shined in his own way, and that he had a support system that truly loved him.

---

Today, Louie is 13.

Out of his brothers, Louie would argue that he cared about this day the least. It was just another day in his mind. Sure, it was fun celebrating his birthday with his family, especially with Webby and Launchpad around who always made sure that the triplets had the funnest day possible, even if that day ended up a bit hectic.

Louie didn't see the hype with getting older: Sure, now he was less than three years away from being able to get a license, and then five years away from being a legal adult, but those were still years: Not days, not weeks, not months, years.

If you told Louie that this was what his life would be like when he turned ten, he'd straight up laugh in your face. In these past three years, he went from being a casual supporter of the Richest Duck in the World, to one of the nephews of the Richest Duck in the World. He went from only ever having Huey and Dewey as brothers, to having Webby, who was more like a sister than a cousin, and May and June by extension. He went from only ever having one parental figure, which was Uncle Donald, to having his mother who he was sure was dead, come back into his life and play an active role in it. Louie wouldn't admit it outloud, but the way his life shifted from a boring one living at the Marina with his brothers and his Uncle, to living in a Mansion with an extended family where all they do is get themselves in and out of trouble, was really exciting to him. It's something he never would've thougnt he'd have.

Especially when his mom came back. They started off on a terrible footing, with Louie being hesitant to become comfortable around her to the fallout they had over Louie and the tub time machine, which as time went on he started to realize more and more where he went wrong, and because of that, there was always an awkward tension between them. Even after all of the hugs, kisses and apologies, Louie could always tell Della felt like she had to be cautious around him. So for the first time since they first became introduced to each other, Louie took the initiative when it came to bonding with his mother: He figured they wouldn't bond over hobbies despite them being the sharpest minds in the family minus Scrooge, so he pushed for them to bond through just talking with each other, which proved to work through time.

Sure, sometimes the conversations would get dark, with Della hinting at the trauma she's obviously dealing with even now that she's been home for two years, and Louie countering her with talking about the toll adventuring has taken on him for a while. It was very rare that those conversations would actually end in tears, but they were conversations that helped Louie unload his emotional baggage of three years that sometimes he felt he couldn't even go to Huey or Dewey about: and it felt nice.

Louie would be lying if he said he didn't learn a lot about himself, because he did.

Money never came easy for Uncle Donald and the nephews.

Louie wouldn't admit this outloud, but he often admired how much Uncle Donald often put on the line just to make sure the triplets had a bed to sleep on at night. Sometimes, when Louie was younger he would sneak out to the kitchen, and get a peak on Uncle Donald panicking about whatever new bill was due that he inevitably couldn't afford at the time.

It was an image Louie could never forget.

When he came here, he was an emotionally reserved ten year old whose only sight of future, was becoming rich after only ever knowing a life of poverty and having to move almost every other month because of eviction notices. But even that sight of becoming rich became skewed due to his original lack of work ethic, seeing as it led him to end up being on watch lists in 49 different states.

But now, he was 13 years old, shadowing Scrooge on his business ventures, studying up on law, being an active participant in adventures, and letting the family he often pushed away, come in to his bubble. He was sure that the ten year old Louie that stood at Scrooge's doorstep that day, would be disgusted by the hardwork he put into everything he did now, but also proud that he was able to make it this far.

"Happy birthday, guys." Louie murmured as he slid out from the bottom bunk, getting ready for the day inevitably crazy day that was ahead.

#huey duck #dewey duck #louie duck #HDL #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #xol writes

40 notes · View notes

mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years

Text

You’ll always be my brother mine; Queen x reader

*Author's note*

Okay get the tissues out my fellow readers because this one WILL make you cry. For this is the LAST chapter with John Deacon in the Rock Angel's life. After this, Deacy will only be lovingly mentioned but will not have another physical appearance. I also want ALL of you to listen to the music choices down below as well as watch the music video above (cause it will REALLY pull your heartstrings and set the mood for this chapter). Up next we're gonna make quite a huge time leap cause next chapter were gonna get into some current events that has happened with Queen/Rock Angel. So be prepared for the next chapter(s).

MUSIC VIDEO HERE

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@simonedk

@ixchel-9275

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@queen-paladin

@queendeakyy

@wormzteef

@bohemiansweede

@labessieisallama

@naturalswifty89

@starswin

@isabella-bby

@5sos-wdw

@geek-and-proud

@onebigfangirlworld

@ssa-sadboi

_________________________________________________________

*Nov. 28th, 1997. Deacy's POV*

I had only agreed to come here to do this one last thing. My last music video that I would ever do with Queen, I had already completed my last live performance with Brian and Roger along with Elton back in Paris but without Freddie it just wasn't the same. Now we were making the music video for a song that Brian had written years ago just shortly after Freddie died.

I was sitting by myself along Roger's bar area (we had assembled at his place to do a mock rehearsal of the song before recording tomorrow) with my bass guitar resting on my lap when Roger came in and said.

"You doing okay?"

"Define okay." I told him.

"You're right. Dumb question. But—in all seriousness John, it really means a lot to us that you agreed to do this video."

"All I keep hearing is Freddie telling me 'darling if you don't get in front of that camera, I'll kick your arse from here to Glasgow'." The two of us chuckled softly.

"Well the team's already to go for tomorrow guys, we'll start filming at 9am sharp. We feel good about this?" Brian came up to us and asked.

"Actually, we can't do this video just yet." I told them.

"Why not?" asked Brian. "It's not much like any of our previous videos have been. We're in the perfect location and we're willing to perform this live instead of going through playback."

"It's not about missing something Brian, it's—someone."

"Look Deacy. We all miss him, but he'd still want—"

"I'm not talking about Freddie, Brian." I snapped before taking a deep breath and calming myself down.

"John I don't even know if she'd be interested in wanting to return to work. After the trail she's been—" Roger said softly before exhaling deeply. "But I can give Jack a call and see."

"No need. I booked a flight to Montreux, if I can convince her, we should be back tonight. Late." The two of them looked at each other and Brian said.

"Alright Deacy, we'll let you go get her. But don't get your hopes too high if she says no."

"Believe me, I know what she's going through. I almost didn't want to do this either. It feels wrong even continuing without Freddie, but—with this being the very last time I'll ever perform for Queen. I need at least one more performance with the Rock Angel. You guys need to give me this."

"We are. Bring our angel home." Roger said as he clasped his hand on my shoulder. I nodded before packing my bass up and headed off for the airport.

After a 2 hour flight, I arrived in Montreux airport and got a cab to take me to the Kline vacation home. It was another hour, hour and a half drive but finally the driver pulled up along the driveway. It was completely silence in the front yard, almost like a graveyard.

I got out of the car and walked up the gravel road, up onto the sidewalk and finally up the few stairs before finally standing before the door. Taking a deep breath I knocked on the door and waited for a couple of minutes. Soon enough a young girl opened the door, she had long (h/c) and familiar (e/c) that she inherited from her mother.

"Uncle Deacy?"

"Hello Kelly." I greeted with a warm smile. She smiled at me and hugged me.

God she had gotten so big since I last saw her. She was really starting to look more and more like her mother each and every day.

"My dear Kelly, look at you." she looked up at me and said.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was wondering if I could speak to your mum?"

"Yeah, of course. She's down in the basement with the boys." Kelly allowed me to enter inside and the first thing I see as I walk through the door was old Sammy, the Kline family's golden retriever. Already he was showing signs of aging around his nose and eyes. But when he saw me, he raised his head up and I saw his tail wag.

"Hello Sammy. Long time ehh boy?" he stood up and walked towards me and nuzzled against my hand. I stroked down his head when Kelly said.

"That's the first time I've seen him move so much since Bucky died." I turned to her in shock. "Brain tumor. We had to put him down last month and it was hard for all of us, Sammy especially." I looked down at Sammy and he looked up at me with those sad brown eyes of his as he let out a sad, soft whimper.

I scratched through his head as I walked over toward the basement stairs. I opened the door and walked down the U-shaped half-pace staircase. All the while I could hear some orchestra music playing and the sound of some creature bellowing before finally hearing someone say.

"How fast are they?"

"Well we clocked the T-Rex at 32 mph." As I came down to the bottom of the stairs, there at a desk surrounded by books and wearing prescription glasses was my sister dear while on the leather couch playing on the big TV was a movie that I wasn't quite too familiar with.

"T-T-Rex? You said you got a T-Rex?" Georgie quoted alone with the woman on screen while the old man nodded.

"Say again?" Jackson quoted along with the actor on screen.

"We have a T-Rex." The old man repeated. The actor on screen then started acting faint while the woman tried to get him steady and that's when the old man said.

"Dr. Grant, my dear Dr. Sattler."

"Welcome—to Jurassic Park." The twins quoted along with the old man on screen. Then soon enough dinosaurs were shown on the screen and I'll admit it was quite a sight to behold.

Never have I seen practical effects like that when it came to dinosaur films. Whatever film this is, I'll have to check it out for myself.

When I turned towards (y/n) I noticed that she turned her head away from her books and paper just to watch the television. I shook my head at her. Some things never change. I even saw her mouth out the next quote that was spoken on screen.

"Some things never change with you sister dear." She turned around to face me, as did the boys and they raced towards me exclaiming.

"Uncle John! Uncle John!" soon I was tackled down to the ground by these big boys. I smiled down at them as the two of them talked over each other trying to speak to me.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat threw up. And I see you finally cut that raggedy mullet of yours." My sister teased.

"Haha, very funny." I mocked up at her.

"What brings you around here?" she asked me.

"A brother figure can't see his surrogate sister anymore?" I asked as I stood back up with the twins still clinging onto my sides.

"Not that I'm complaining but, you haven't really came around since......" she looked away before grabbing the remote and turning the movie off.

"Awww mum! We wanted to keep watching the film!" the twins whined.

"Georgie, Jackson you both have seen the film over a million times. Besides you two got chores to do that you both forgot to do yesterday."

"But, but, but....."

"Now boys. You mind your mother and don't argue back with her." I lectured them giving them my father eye.

"Yes Uncle John." They both said glumly before they walked up the stairs.

"I swear they both got their father's handsome looks but their uncle Jensen's laziness." (y/n) complained which made me softly chuckle.

"They're little boys. And believe me it'll get worse, cause they're what seven now?" she nodded. "So yeah get ready. Ten is probably the age they'll really push your buttons."

"Well thanks for the heads up."

*My POV*

Now don't get me wrong, I love Deacy and I'm always happy to see him (on the rare occasions that he does come around) but this visit has something else written all over it.

"What film was that exactly?" he asked me.

"A Steven Spielberg masterpiece, Jurassic Park. Since it gets scary at around the middle part I don't allow the boys to watch this film alone without either me or Jack in the room."

"And what's with all the books? I haven't seen you this swamped since your first days as Miami's intern."

"Well—believe it or not. I'm finishing college."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. You see since I left college once I became the Rock Angel, and with me taking a step back from the spotlight for a while. I enrolled at a University here about to graduate with an English degree."

"I'm proud of you (y/n). Really I am. And—I know he would be too if he heard that." See there it was. The reason behind his sadness. Sometimes Deacy couldn't even say his name without feeling such agonizing heartache. His eyes that were once filled with light had diminished and rarely sparked up anymore.

"What about you? How are you and the other two aging Queens getting along?" I asked as I took off my reading glasses.

"We're getting by. Day by day. We're—actually about to do a video for a song Brian's made." Okay, I think I know where this is going.

"Deacy—I appreciate the offer but I just.....don't think I'm ready to get back into the limelight just yet. Plus I got school to finish up. And then there are the kids and Jack. The press made my life hell throughout the trial and I refuse to go through that again. So you can tell Roger that I'm not interested."

"Actually it wasn't Roger's idea for me to come down here and have you work with us again. Nor was it Brian's." I looked at him in shock.

"You mean you want me to be a part of this video you're doing?"

"Yes. They told me you might not want to but please, sister dear, for old time's sake. You wouldn't want to break an old man's heart now would you?" he proceeded with the puppy dog eyes and with that greying hair on his head it just made him look like a sad old puppy dog.

"Why must you always get your way?"

"Because I'm your brother and you fall for it every time." I sighed heavily and said.

"Let me get a hold of Jack at the hospital and see what he says." I stood up as Deacy came behind me and said in an alarmed tone.

"Wait? What happened to Jack? Is he alright? He didn't do anything stupid did he?"

"Deacy, Deacy relax. Jack's fine he's with our son."

"Wait you're....." it was then he finally noticed my body shape. The post-pregnant belly and weight gain.

"Was. Yeah. Just 2 weeks ago we had our new baby boy."

"Oh (y/n). Congratulations. But—then why is he......"

"The thing is, he wasn't supposed to come till next January. I gave birth to him prematurely by 2 months." I said sadly as I finally arrived at the phone and touched it.

"I'm so sorry poppet. Had I known I would've never—"

"No need for apologizes or sympathy Deacy. Like I told you once a long time ago about my parents. I didn't tell you so you have no reason to feel sorry for me. Besides our boy's strong. He's shown great improvement. Doctor says we could possibly bring him home come this weekend."

"That's good. But knowing Roger and Brian, they'll be wanting pictures of him shortly."

"And what about you? Don't you want to see a picture of your new nephew?"

"Of course I do." There was a bit of hesitation to the way he responded but I set it aside for now as he asked me, "What's the lad's name?" After he said that, it was my turn to hesitate cause I didn't want Deacy to grow sad again.

"You promise me you won't get too heartbroken when I tell you?"

"So long as you didn't name him Adam, Paul or Steve I think we'll be good." I turned to face my brother and I said.

"It was no difficult decision, Jack and I agreed that this name just suited him perfectly and we—we knew he would've loved it too. Our last and newborn baby's name is Freddie Mercury Kline." I immediately picked up the phone and rang the hospital for Jack.

After awhile of Jack and I talking back and forth between one another, he agreed that he could handle the kids for a couple of days, man down the house, and even look over my final paper that I have to turn in in a couple of weeks for a class.

"Thanks babe. How's our boy doing?"

'Ahh (y/n) you should see him, he's glowing like the sun right now. Maybe when we do get to take him home, we can even get the rest of the Queen family to see him.'

"We don't want to overwhelm him so much." I lectured.

'I know. But I think it's time we told the rest of Queen didn't we? Especially after who we named him after.'

"Well half the job is done. Only Brian and Roger need to know."

'Yeah. Hey can you give me regards to Deacy?'

"Sure thing love. We'll stay here till you get home."

'Baby you know Kelly's old enough to keep the boys under control till I come back.'

"I don't know Jack, I mean yeah she's a pre-teen but I don't....."

'Trust me (y/n). She's clever just like her mom. She knows right from wrong. The kids will be fine. But if it makes you feel any better, I'll head home right now so that way she won't have to be responsible for too long.' I rolled my eyes and said.

"Thank you Jack. I'll be back on Monday, I promise."

'Take as much time as you need. Besides, you need to catch up with the guys.'

"You're right love. I love you Jack, give my baby a kiss for me before you leave."

'Will do mama lion. Give the guys my love for me when you see them.'

"I will." We then said bye to each other before I hung up the phone. "Alright, Jack's on his way from the hospital, he said Kelly can watch the twins until he comes back."

"She's responsible that girl of yours. Reminds me of you when we first met. You made sure everything got organized and planned out accordingly. Hell you managed to keep the four of us in line." I smiled and gathered up my school stuff to take into the study room.

After turning the TV, off and putting my books away I called the kids into the master bedroom while I packed a weekend night bag.

"Okay now listen you three, mum's going away for the weekend with your uncle Deacy to see your other uncle as well as your godfather to do some work. Your father is on his way home from seeing your brother, and until he gets back you're in charge Kelly."

"What!?" the twins proclaimed.

"You heard her." Kelly sassed down at her younger brothers.

"Now you all know the rules, stay inside, no trashing the house, no answering the phone for any reason at all unless the caller ID says its your father or another family member. And absolutely; No one. Sets. Foot. In my study or studio or else." I firmly stated to them, especially the last part.

"We promise mum." They all choired out.

"Good. Now stay safe, and listen to your sister boys. I'll be back on Monday. Now come on kisses and cuddles." I knelt down and got a hug from my three big kids.

I even told them to give their uncle Deacy cuddles and kisses, which he happily accepted, before the two of us headed out back for the taxi car to take us back to the airport.

After a few hours in the air, Deacy and I arrived into London by about 7pm and this time I paid a cabbie to take us over to Roger's place. God all this traveling is really making me jet lagged right now. I only hope I have enough energy to record tomorrow.

The next day we were all in the recording studio to film the music video of Brian's song. I was sitting at the piano with Brian who was giving me the rundown on how to play the tune when it came for my appearance in the video.

"So—how have things been for you lately?" asked Brian. I looked up at him, "I mean it's just—you went underground after the trail and we—got worried."

"I'm sorry I worried you guys. I just......needed some time to myself and my family, that's all."

"No, no we understand. God what—what happened that day was extremely traumatic for you and—"

"Brian. Can.....can we not discuss anything regarding him. Please?"

"Sure, sure, absolutely." God sometimes I hate it when Brian wakes eggshells around me.

"I'm finishing up school."

"Really?" I nodded.

"I'm studying Creative writing. By next spring I'll graduate from college and finally get my diploma."

"That's wonderful news (y/n). I'm so proud of you." he wrapped an arm around me and gave me a one armed hug and kissed the top of my head.

"Also—there's.....a new Kline in the household." He looked down at me surprised.

"You mean—"

"Had him two weeks ago. Prematurely though." His brows knitted in that familiar sympathetic way.

"Oh (y/n), I'm so sorry. Are they....."

"He is doing just fine. Even for being born 2 months early, he's already got the Kline lion strength."

"I'm sure he does. What's the lads name?" I took out my wallet from my inner coat pocket and took out a picture of him from his incubator.

"Jack and I both agreed on the name together. Bri, meet your newest nephew. Freddie Mercury Kline." His eyes looked right at mine, with awe but also a hint of sadness. But a wide smile spread across his face as he softly laughed out.

"God what he would've said knowing that he got one of us to finally name our next kid after him."

"Probably something like 'about fucking time darling. I was beginning to think I'd been neglected.'" We both chuckled softly.

"That is something he would say. Oh and I bet he would've doted on this little chap, just as he had with all of your other kids." I nodded solemnly.

"God I wish he were still here." He placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and lay his head down on top of mine, his curls gingerly stroking my forehead and nose.

"We all do poppet. We all do." I sniffled softly but pushed back the tears.

"Alright, enough of this chatter. Now for this part of the song it goes like this right?" I said shrugging him off before playing the chords he had taught me at the butt-crack of dawn before we even came to the studio.

Finally we were ready to film the video. First Brian, Rog and Deacy got into position with Bri at the piano, Deacy on a stool with a bass guitar, and Roger in the back with his drumkit.

I couldn't help but be touched at the reminder of cups full of beer and a champagne glass sitting right along the piano's edge. It was—a nice little touch that Freddie would've appreciated.

This music video......I'll admit that this is probably my favorite out of all the Queen music videos. Because now people will get to see what it was like on a daily basis with us. Almost like they are a familiar face stepping into the recording studio.

The director called for quiet on the set and I stayed back for awhile until it would be my time to go up there and soon the director called out action! The camera's rolled and I watched as a camera crane came down from the ceiling at a slow pace.

I then saw at men on the mobile camera slowly moved closer across the studio to really give that first person POV as Brian sang the first verse and played the piano. Already hearing him sing this song made my heart .

*Brian*

A hand above the water An angel reaching for the sky Is it raining in heaven Do you want us to cry?

And everywhere the broken-hearted On every lonely avenue No one could reach them No one but you

One by one Only the good die young They're only flyin' too close to the sun And life goes on Without you

Next up was Roger. The cameras slowly came towards him as he played the simple drumbeat and he took over the vocals of the second verse. By that time, Brian had switched over to his Red Special and stood a few feet away from Deacy while I took over at the piano.

But to surprise the fans; I had a hoodie to cover my entire face as I now took over playing the piano.

*Roger*

Another tricky situation I get to drownin' in the blues And I find myself thinkin' Well, what would you do?

Yes, it was such an operation Forever paying every due Hell, you made a sensation (sensation) You found a way through (found a way through)

*All*

One by one Only the good die young They're only flyin' too close to the sun *Roger*

We'll remember Forever

When it was finally my turn, I took the hoodie off and proceeded to play the piano as I sung the third voice. My heart was heavy and my throat felt like clenching up but I kept my sorrow at bay in order to get this done in one take.

Cause I knew if I didn't, then there's probably no way I could keep my composure after three takes of singing this verse. Because all that came through my mind were the good memories of Freddie, and how I couldn't even believe that he was really gone. Even though almost 6 years have passed.

*Me*

And now the party must be over I guess we'll never understand The sense of your leaving Was it the way it was planned?

And so we grace another table And raise our glasses one more time There's a face at the window And I ain't never, never sayin' goodbye

By the end of it all, the video would show Queen and the Rock Angel singing the song with such sorrow but passion as we sung it in honor of our beloved Freddie.

Soon all four of us were gathered around the piano, Deacy still sitting on his stool, but Brian, Roger and I were gathered close together with music sheets in our hands. I stood by Roger and would sing the first line before finding myself unconsciously leaning against him for support.

Thankfully he didn't see anything wrong with it as he wrapped an arm around me and took the next part before Brian would be the one to finish it since he was the one to start it.

*All*

One by one Only the good die young They're only flyin' too close to the sun *Me*

Cryin' for nothing *Roger*

Cryin' for no one *Brian*

No one but you

The video would then close off as the camera would rise up over the four of us gathered around the piano. The lights shutting off and us acting like we were now leaving the studio after a hard day's work.

"Cut! Okay Brian, come and see what you like and what we need to reshoot." The director called out and both he and Brian began speaking to each other as Bri reviewed the footage.

As I watched Bri talk to the director, I felt a slight nudge at my shoulder and I looked up to see Deacy. His eyes were sad but the smile across his face held some warmth to it. I leaned my head against his chest and I felt his hand rest on top of my head, gently scratching my scalp.

"You still got it poppet."

"Singing to the kids still keeps my pipes in check." I felt him gently kiss the top of my head when the director called out.

"Alright Mrs. Kline. We're gonna runback from your verse, your hair got in the way of your face too much." I nodded and soon someone from the hair department came and brushed my hair back out of my face. As well as take a couple of hairpins to make sure the strands didn't get in my face again.

Deacy walked back towards his stool and Brian went to grab his guitar once again while Rog twirled his sticks.

"Okay playback from the third verse." The music picked back up and the cameras rolled and I sung the third verse once again, this time I could feel myself choking up as I sang the verse again.

This continued to go on with reshoots, trying to make this video even better. By the fifth time singing it, I needed to step out and take a breather because at this point I was just about to breakdown crying. Luckily for me, Deacy was right there for me the whole time till I calmed down and was ready to go back to recording.

Four hours later, the video was complete. Once the director as well as the boys were satisfied with the results, it was time to head home. Roger insisted that I stay with him the next couple of days (because he wanted to know more about his new godson) as well as catch up with one another. As I placed my coat back on over me, I heard Deacy's voice say my name softly.

"What is it Deacy?"

"Can I—can I talk to you for a moment? Privately." The look in his eyes were full of regret, almost like he didn't even want to tell me whatever it was he wanted to say.

"Sure Deacy, let me just tell dad to wait up for me." He nodded while I raced off towards Roger and told him that I needed to talk with Deacy.

From behind his new circular prescription shades (kinda similar to what ole Ozzy has), I could see that he must've known what Deacy wanted to tell me.

I walked back towards Deacy who took my hand and led me out of the studio and out into the abandoned hallways. No one was there but us two.

"Alright John Deacon, what's really going on?" he refused to look me in the eye.

"I—the reason why I wanted you to be a part of this music video was because I......I wanted to work with you. One last time." My heart slowly sunk. "Freddie he—he was what made Queen the way it was from the beginning. Without him there......th-there just isn't any need for Queen to continue on."

I remained silent as John confessed his heartbreaking news. I could see the redness of tears at the corner of his eyes.

"I just can't continue with all this. Not without him. This—was my last contribution to Queen. And—I wanted it to also be the last time I worked alongside the Rock Angel as well." He went silent again. "I'm sorry love." He sniffled.

I reached out and softly took his hands in mine. When he felt my touch, his eyes finally looked right at me. I looked at him with pure empathy before walking closer to him till I finally embraced him.

Play video

Oh my poor brother, I felt him tense up underneath my touch. It was almost like he was expecting me to go full on hysterical about him retiring from music forever.

"I was a fan before I met you guys. I've read every interview you guys ever did, seen all the concerts. And never have I seen a band be so involved with each other as Queen has. Like me, Freddie took you under his wing and allowed you to soar. You never just became the 'bass player', or the 'quiet guy in the corner'. No you, John Richard Deacon, are the most vital and important piece that was needed for Queen to finally rise to the top. And Fred saw that in you."

I cupped his face in my hands as I continued,

"If this is what will bring you peace, I'll understand."

"You knew my reason all along, didn't you?" he said. I only gave him a soft smile before I embraced him.

"You will always be my brother mine." He slowly raised his arms and wrapped them around my back and he whispered his last words to me.

"And you'll forever be my sister dear." We remained there in each other's arms. Embracing each other as tightly as we could, inhaling each other's scents, remembering each other's touch.

Because I knew that once we let go, this would be the last time we would ever see each other again.

Finally I forced myself to release him from my embrace. I looked down sadly trying not to cry in front of him. I felt his hand cup the side of my face and his forehead press up against mine.

Our noses softly grazing one another's until I finally felt him give me one final kiss on the cheek.

When I opened my eyes, I only saw his back and heard as his shoes clicked along the hallway. That image would forever be imprinted into my brain for as long as I live.

"Goodbye......my sweet, sweet John Deacon." I whispered softly. The tears then softly fell down my face as he finally turned left and disappeared from my sights, leaving me all alone in the hallway.

After a while I finally left the studio and met Roger at his car. The hidden tearstains still glistening on my face and the occasional sniffle coming out. He didn't say a word as he looked at me knowingly, I looked up at him and ran into his chest and softly wept into his shoulder.

His father instincts toward me immediately kicked in as he wrapped his arms around me and tried his best to comfort me. God I tried so badly to not let this affect me. I knew where Deacy was coming from and I do respect his decision, I truly do, but—I just can't believe that even after this I'll never get to see my brother mine again.

It was like losing my parents all over again, except this was much, much worse. This time he'll be so close yet so far away.

*FF to May 14th, 1998*

I had done it. I was a college graduate at last. Earlier today I had finally done the famed college graduation walk that all my previous friends in college got to do all those years ago, and I was an official college graduate.

(Y/n) Kline, Bachelor's degree in English with a concentration in Creative Writing.

It was late afternoon and I was sitting up along the balcony of the vacation home with a glass of wine in hand. We all had just gotten back from a family dinner in celebration of my graduation, now I wanted to be at peace and watch the sunset.

Because starting tomorrow, I decided that it was time to head back to our home in London and I wanted to get back to work.

"Thought I'd find you up here." I heard Jack's voice say. I smiled as I turned towards him.

"I was wondering if you'd be joining me."

"Well you know as well as I do that if those twins of ours are left unattended during their bath, they'll drown the entire bathroom in soap again."

"God that was such a nightmare to clean up." I laughed as he came up and sat down close beside me on my lawn chair. I noticed in his hands he held some mail. "What all did we get?"

"Well some bills, junk mail, some congratulation cards from the family back home in America, as well as from Brian and Roger, and.....that's it." I extended my hand out and he handed me the mail and I began sorting out the business mail from the personal one.

It was then I came across an interesting letter. One I never though I'd expect to see.

"What's this?" I turned the letter towards him and that's when Jack's face went pale. For you see the letter was addressed to Jack but the place it was from is what had me curious. The letter was from the London Police Academy.

"Oh shit." He muttered.

"C'mon Jack spill it, what is this?"

"I really didn't want to make a big deal out of this, especially since these past few months were all about you."

"Jack." I warned him since he was getting off the subject. He sighed heavily before he took the letter from my hands and said.

"Okay. Do you remember when I had gone up to London, and I told you that I was just going up there to check on the house?" I nodded. "Well, I lied. The truth is—I went to apply for the London Police Academy because—I want to become a police officer, and eventually a criminal detective."

"Jack."

"I know I must sound crazy but, this was my decision. After what happened to us with—you know. For the past year and a half and then....dealing with the trail. It put all of us through hell. And I—I don't want us or for anyone else to go through the pain that we went through. That bastard nearly tore this family apart, and it was because of the law that he got away with it every time. Creeps like him shouldn't get off scot-free."

I hugged my husband as tightly as I could and I said with a wide smile.

"I'm so proud of you."

"Really?" I separated from him and continued.

"You're my husband and you've been so supportive of me for years. It's about time I was supportive of you in your dream career."

"Well I don't even know if I even got in, that's probably what this letter is."

"Then what are you waiting for? Open it!" I chuckled and opened up the envelope and soon took out the folded letter and read it to himself.

"I—I got in."

"Oh my darling that's fantastic! Congrats!" I hugged and kissed him.

"Well hold on, this just means that I'm a potential candidate for a chance at working for the London Police force. There's still like a six month process when it comes to actually getting in. Right now I'm just joining the academy for some training."

"Still, that's something to be proud of. Oh Jack, you're gonna be a fantastic officer. And soon a world-class detective. A regular Sherlock Holmes if you will." I teased the last part as I bopped his nose.

"I don't think I can be that good. But—I'll try my best. For you, for our kids, and for every other stalking victims out there. The law may have failed us, but I won't let it fail for those in the future." I smiled at my loving husband and cupped his face and kissed him. "Oh and there's something for you inside."

"Really? Another surprise?"

"Well it's more like a small package. And sadly it's not from me." I looked at him confused.

"Then who is it from?" he shrugged but led me inside back into our bedroom where the small package lay at the foot of our bed. I opened it up and inside there was a single videotape. It had no marking or writing on it to indicate what it was.

The two of us looked at each other perplexed before I went towards our VHS player and insert the tape into it. I turned the TV on and the screen was blue as the tape finally began to play.

Coming up on the screen sitting right on a couch was none other than John.

"Hello (y/n), Jack. And the young Kline cubs, if they are there." He softly chuckled with a slight smile. Jack sat down beside me on the foot of our bed as we continued to watch Deacy's tape. "(Y/n), my darling sister dear. I know that—my leaving from Queen may seem like another abandonment but I swear to you it's not."

"Seems like this is just for you both, I'll just—"

"And Jack you stay right there with her because this is for you too." Jack looked at the telly surprised.

"Holy shit that was creepy."

"Our Deacy knows all." I wrapped my arms around my husband's arm as Deacy continued.

"Now—I have known you both for a long time. And both of you have equally been such an important part of my life. So it breaks my heart to know that this—might be the last time we meet face to face. But there is no doubt in my mind that you both are going to change the world. (Y/n), my lovely Rock Angel, you continue to spread your wings and fly. I know that you're going to continue to be the brightest and biggest solo female rockstar this world will ever know. And Jack, my pupil, my dearest American friend. You continue to protect your family, because if there's one final piece of advice that I can give you, it's that family is forever. Friends may come and go, but family is forever. And I know that whatever you choose to do with your life, your wife is gonna be there to support you. You both were meant for each other. I love you both so much. Continue to love, to give, to inspire, and......be happy. Bye."

The screen went black for a moment before he came back on screen and he began to say.

"Kelly, Jackson, Georgie and—little baby Freddie." At that point I stopped the tape and I turned to face Jack. I could already see the faint tears in his eyes.

Play video

"So this is really it huh?" Jack asked. I nodded. "I—can't believe we'll never get to actually talk to Deacy again." I rested my head on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"This is just his way of grieving. Deacy's very fragile right now. You know how his childhood was, and losing Freddie at three years his father's age. It's like—losing two father figures to him."

"I know. It's just that....." Jack looked at me with tears in his eyes.

Jack really did look up to Deacy for everything. After all they've been through for over 10 years together, to Jack it was like he was losing a very good friend.

"I know my love, I know. But this is what Deacy needs. To be with just his family now, and not be reminded of the pain of losing Freddie. And who knows—maybe, and this is a slight maybe, we might see him again. But until then we need to respect his wishes." Jack nodded and the two of us cuddled close together as we were both thinking the same thing.

We hope that you're happy at home John Richard Deacon.

31 notes · View notes